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juniperskye · 4 months ago

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That’ll Show Them.

Based on the following ask: 🥰 yay!! Okay. (Deep breath), so the idea was basically either preschool or elementary school setting. Hotch being a sexy single dad has most of the single (and not!) Moms drooling over him. Y/N or Reader is a single mom, not one of those drooling but definitely sees that he's attractive. But her kid (girl or boy) happens to quickly become Jack's BFF and this causes natural interactions and conversations between her and Hotch over the next few weeks which makes the other moms salty and jealous, and she overhears them at one point speculating that she probably told her kid to befriend Jack just so she could get closer to Hotch. I didn't really think of an ending for it but just had an idea of a scene where she's trying to remain calm and unaffected while overhearing them talking about her and giving side eye. Maybe Hotch hears it too and comes to her defense? Or makes them even saltier by asking her out in front of them? 😈 @nyxwolph thank you for requesting this! I did adjust a little bit, so I hope you like it!!

Aaron Hotchner x Single Mom! Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 3569

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, some explicit language, reader is a single mom, mention of divorce, school moms being shitty, mention of Hotch’s ex father-in-law being ill, no use of y/n, Fem reader, reader has no physical description other than being shorter than hotch, reader is mentioned/implied to own a shop (no details), gay best friend, Hotch starts work at 8am (idk what the BAU hours are lmao) let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

The moms were ruthless. You were barely three months into the school year and already you had been completely ostracized from the “mom group.” Part of you had assumed it was because the majority of these moms had all caught wind of your very public, messy divorce. The other part of you, however, knew that the main reason you’d been exiled was him.

Aaron HOTTIE Hotchner, as the other moms called him, had taken Ms. Jenson’s third grade class by storm. Meet the teacher night had been a frenzy of horny moms all praying their child ended up in the same class as Aaron’s son. There were hushed conversations and giggles, and hair flips all night long, you had felt bad for the teachers since their presentations had fallen second to the gossip travelling through the halls about the hot single dad.

“I heard he works for the FBI!”

“I heard he’s a widower. Could you even imagine?”

“Wow. He must be pretty amazing, a single dad and working for the FBI!”

“Can we be real for a moment and just admire how hot he is?”

“Did you see his hands?”

“Yes! Did you see his suit? I love a well-dressed man.”

They were vultures, every single one of them, and Aaron was their newest victim. He, of course, had been completely oblivious to the blatant flirting – he returned every advance they made with a kind smile or polite nod. And listen, you weren’t going to deny that Aaron was hot…you just weren’t trying to be like those other moms and gush about it at meet the teacher night.

Your being excluded by the class moms had only gotten worse since Jack and Millie had become friends. Millie had told you on the first day of school, that a boy had pushed her down on the playground, and before you could panic, she told you that a different boy…one named Jack…had helped her up. She said after that, they sat together at lunch and read aloud.

You could barely contain you excitement. Since the divorce, Millie had been having a tough time making friends – mainly because the moms told their kids to stay away. Your ex had been quite cozy with some of the moms at Millie’s last school and you had eventually found out he was sleeping with one of them. Once the divorce was finalized and you had full custody, you’d moved and that meant a new school for Millie.

Realistically that should’ve been the end of the drama, but it just so happens that the girl who your husband slept with…well her sister’s child was in the same class as Millie. He of course was the kid that pushed Millie down on the first day of school.

It shouldn’t have bothered you, their constant whispers…but it had you seething. This was an everyday occurrence now that you drove Jack home. The moms all waiting for dismissal engaging in hushed conversations about how desperate you must be.

“I bet she told her daughter to befriend his son.”

“What a sad way to get his attention.”

“Well, I mean, her ex did cheat…so she’s probably desperate.”

“She’s ridiculous if you ask me.”

This new development has begun exactly two weeks ago. Jack and Millie had been on their sixth playdate – this had been the first one Aaron had been able to host (due to work obvi) which had led to you staying and the two of you talking about how demanding his work schedule must be. He had told you it kept him pretty busy and that his sister-in-law had been extremely helpful, but with her father falling ill, she was growing increasingly busy.

“You know, I could drive Jack. If you’re comfortable with it.” You offered.

“I couldn’t possibly ask that of you!” Aaron panicked.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t ask…I’m offering. I already have to drive to the school to get Millie, I could grab Jack and the two of them could hang out until you are off work. And if your sister-in-law ever can’t watch him while you’re away, know that I am more than willing.” You punctuated with a kind smile.

“What if I take them to school, I don’t need to be at work until eight, and then you could pick them up? That way it is even. Obviously when I’m out of town, which wouldn’t necessarily be possible, but I could coordinate with Jess and…” Aaron was spiraling.

“Aaron. If you want to take them to school when you’re in town, that would be great. That would allow me the time I need in the shop before opening. When you are out of town, if Jack is staying with me, I will take them to and from school – if he’s with Jess, she doesn’t have to worry about Millie okay?” You suggested.

“You’re a godsend. You know that?” Aaron said, a smile growing on his face.

“Yeah well, Jack has been an incredible friend to Millie, and I would love for them to spend more time together. Plus, the house has been so quiet and, I don’t know. It would be nice to have the kids there.” There was a slight cringe that was brought with the insinuation of your divorce.

“I appreciate it either way.” Aaron gently nudged your shoulder.

So, for the last two weeks, Aaron had been driving the kids to school and you had been picking them up. He shockingly had yet to be called on a case…but you knew it was only a matter of time.

Aaron was called away a few days later, he had let you know that Jess would be watching Jack. That had sent a tinge of pain right to your heart. In truth, you were attracted to Aaron, and the more time you spent with him, you were starting to fall for him. You tried not to focus too much on the fact that he’d sent Jack to stay with Jess…chalking up to the fact that Aaron probably didn’t want to burden you – even though he could never.

You didn’t hear from Aaron until nearly two weeks later.

A: Hey, we just got back from this case. I’ll pick Millie up in the morning for school. Are you good to pick up Jack after?

Y: Hey! Yeah I can pick them up tomorrow. I have to take Millie to get her cleats and shin guards for soccer, is it okay if Jack tags along?

A: I totally forgot soccer starts next weekend. If I sent some money in Jack’s backpack could you pick up his stuff too?

Y: Of course! Will you be late tomorrow?

A: Probably, after a case like this, there’s a lot of paperwork to be done. I will try to be there by 7pm if that’s okay.

Y: 7 is fine, we will get homework done and I will feed them and have Jack all ready for you!

A: Thank you. Seriously I don’t know what I’d do without you.

The next day you arrived at the school at 2:45 pm to pick up the kids. You parked your car like always and stood in wait with the other parents. You were checking your phone to see where the nearest sporting goods store was when one of the dads approached you.

“Hey, is Millie ready for soccer to start?”

“Oh, hey Scott! Yeah she is so excited! What about Macy?” You questioned.

“She’s nervous, but she told me she was glad Millie and Jack were playing too. Michael was really bummed that the girls weren’t in a class together this year.” Scott explained.

“I was too! How is Michael? We should all have dinner some time!” You suggested.

“He’s good, and I am sure he would love to have you and your new beau over for a meal – I will talk to him when we get home!” Scott beamed.

“New beau…what are you talking about? Do you mean Aaron? He and I, we’re not…” You stuttered.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay! You should be bragging to all those bitches that you bagged the hot DILF! Don’t let them spoil something good for you hon.” Scott gently squeezed your arm.

Just as you opened your mouth to reply, the kids came running out. Macy ran to hug her dad while Jack and Millie made their way to you. Both kids hugged you and then said their goodbyes to Macy. You moved to grab their hands and guide them to the car, but not without catching the glares from all the moms. They must’ve heard Scott and you talking…and while you and Aaron weren’t dating, it didn’t hurt to let them believe it for a bit.

After getting the kids soccer gear, you took them home and got them started on their homework and gave them some apple slices. You checked a few emails, changed the washer and dryer, and wrote up your grocery list in the meantime.

When they were done with their homework, you checked their work and then quizzed them on their spelling words. By then it was nearly 5:30 pm, you set the two of them up in the living room with a coloring book and some Legos while you got dinner started. You made some grilled chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans – for the kids, you added some cheese to the potatoes and cut up the chicken – setting that on the table for them alongside a glass of chocolate milk.

“Kids, time for dinner!” You hollered.

“Coming mom!” Millie called.

You were about 10 minutes into dinner when a knock sounded from the front door. You excused yourself and walked over to let Aaron in.

“Hey, we were just having dinner, can I get you a plate?” You offered.

“Oh, as long as it’s not an imposition!” Aaron replied.

“Aaron, how many times do I have to tell you that it’s not an imposition. I like having you around.” You stopped abruptly, embarrassed that you’d let that slip. “I mean, you know, it’s nice that Millie and Jack are friends…I uh. I…”

“I know what you mean. And I like having you around too.” He said, finally stepping fully into the house.

Aaron placed a gentle hand on the small of your back to guide you toward the kitchen. You plated him up some food and he joined you at the table, sitting right beside you. You couldn’t help the growing heat that bloomed on your cheeks as his arm brushed against your own. The room was filled with the playful chatter of the eight-year-olds that sat across from you, giggles escaping them as they recounted the events of their day at school.

Glancing over, you noticed the joy radiating from Aaron’s expression. You hadn’t seen him this genuinely happy in all the time you’ve known him, and you wonder if it is because he doesn’t get to relax like this often. The thought allows your mind to drift even further – splaying images of cooking for the four of you all the time, of late nights cuddled with Aaron and even further into the future, welcoming a new child to the family you’ve curated…only it's all in your head.

“You alright?” Aaron whispers. His warm breath against your ear causes a chill to cascade across your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Yeah, I’m good. Sorry, just lost in thought.”

“Hey mom, is Jack’s dad going to be my new dad?” Millie posed, causing you to choke on the bite of chicken you’d just taken.

“Woah, sweetheart you’re okay, just breathe!” Aaron patted your back gently. “Here, take a sip of water.”

Taking a swig, the chicken makes its way down. “Mills…baby where did you get that idea?”

“Well Rain said that his mom said that you were moving in on Jack’s dad, and I thought that if we were moving in, then that would make him my new dad!” Millie smiled.

It was Aaron who choked this time, only it was on his water, causing some of it to certainly escape through his nose. He pulled his napkin to his face as he coughed in an attempt to clear his airway.

“Aar…breathe.” You returned the favor of patting him gently on the back. “Are you okay?”

He answered with a nod and allowed a chuckle to escape his mouth before looking up to meet your gaze. Aaron wasn’t ignorant of the fact that the other moms had been eyeing him since the beginning of the year, he just hadn’t realized that they’d gone after you due to your budding closeness.

“Millie, Rain’s mom is just kidding. Jack’s dad and I are becoming good friends, like you and Jack, and they don’t like that, so they’re saying some not so nice things.” You explained.

“Oh…okay.” Millie said, a small pout gracing her features.

A pout that pulled on not only yours, but also Aaron’s heartstrings. He allowed himself a glance in your direction and took careful note of the hurt and disappointment that flashed across your own features briefly. Was it possible you felt more than you were letting on?

Six days later you received a call at four in the morning. It hadn’t been the thing to wake you up, but it came as a surprise, nonetheless.

“Hello?”

“Hey, I just got a call about a time sensitive case and Jess is dealing with her dad. Would you mind taking Jack while I am away?”

“Aaron, of course! Do you need me to come and get him?”

“No, I will get a bag together for him and drop him off on my way to the office. I am going to leave you with a key to my place just in case Jack needs anything. Thank you for doing this, seriously it means a lot.”

“It’s really not a problem, I will have a bed made up for him by the time you get here.”

“Thanks sweetheart, see you soon.”

With that, Aaron hung up, and for the second time you were taken by surprise at the pet name he so casually referred to you by. You had to remind yourself not to swoon. It wouldn’t do you any good to get into your thoughts about the meaning behind his slip of the tongue.

Jack Hotchner was the most wonderful child you have the privilege of knowing – aside from Millie of course. He was polite and he listened with no pushback. He helped Millie with her chores (cleaning up her toys and putting her clothes in the laundry basket), he didn’t complain, and he just exuded this kindness and joy that brought an extra bit of warmth to your home.

You could see Millie becoming attached and you feared her heart would break once Jack had to go back home. You only hoped that she’d understand that although Jack’s presence isn’t currently permanent, they’d still get to see each other all the time.

Jack stayed with you for five nights, Aaron surprised you all by showing up with a pizza on Saturday evening.

The three of you had been cuddled up on the couch watching Inside Out 2 when the doorbell rang. You shuffled over to the door in your sweats and fuzzy socks to see Aaron standing there in a quarter zip and jeans. Good God, he’s never looked so good.

“Aaron!” You couldn’t hide your excitement.

“Surprise! I brought pizza, I hope cheese is okay.” He inquired.

“Cheese is perfect.” You confirmed. “Kids, dinner is here!”

“Dad!”

Jack ran to embrace his father. Millie, however, stormed off to her room. You were quick to throw Aaron an apologetic glance, before following her down the hall.

“Mills…what’s wrong honey?”

Millie replied with a grumble in her pillow and a shake of her head.

“Baby, I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”

“It’s not fair. Jack doesn’t have a mom, and I don’t have a dad. But when you and Mr. Aaron are together it feels like a normal family. How come you guys can’t just be together?” Millie cried.

“Oh, honey. It’s not that simple bug. Mr. Aaron, well he’s a busy man and I just…” You trailed off.

“Don’t you like him?”

“Mills, yeah I like him, but like I said, it’s not that simple. Even if he liked me back, that wouldn’t just make us a family, it would take some time for us to get serious and then we’d have to decide if that was the right step for us.”

“It is the right step! You guys like each other, and Jack and I get along…mommy it’s perfect! You could be Jack’s mom and Mr. Aaron could be my new dad.” Millie said matter-of-factly.

“Oh honey, is this about your dad?” You pulled Millie into a hug.

“No! He wasn’t nice to me like Mr. Aaron is. Mom I want Mr. Aaron to be my dad.” She whispered as tears stained her cheeks.

“I know honey, me too…me too.” You pressed a kiss to her head. “Baby lets go have some pizza and enjoy our time with Jack and Mr. Aaron, yeah?”

“Okay.”

That night, something shifted. Aaron and you had begun spending more time together, going to soccer practices and games together, taking the kids to the park, the movies, pottery painting places, dinner at your house, game night at his. Aaron had also exclusively been asking you to take Jack while he was away on cases – claiming Jess’ father was getting worse.

Two months passed like this, and things had started to feel very domestic. Millie was asking more and more about Jack being her brother and Aaron her father and you had to explain that even though they weren’t related, even by marriage, that friends could be considered family too.

Once again you were taking care of Jack while Aaron was out of town on a case, only this time it was a little different. Your car was in the shop, so Aaron had let you borrow his car, and today was the last day of school before winter break. The schoolyard was buzzing with anticipation of the final bell, parents were discussing their vacation plans with one another while waiting.

You has been talking to Scott and Michael when Becca approached you.

“You know, I think it’s a sick thing you’ve done, using your daughter to help you prey on a vulnerable man.” She hissed.

“Excuse me? What the hell are you talking about?” You shot back.

“Aaron. You had Millie befriend Jack and for what so you could trick Aaron into going out with you? It’s truly despicable behavior. He’s a good man and he deserves someone who is genuine.” Becca spewed.

“I don’t know where you get off, talking to me like that, but I can assure you – ”

“Becca, I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t speak to my girlfriend that way. She is the kindest most genuine person I have ever met, and every day she shows me how much she cares for and loves Jack and me. So back off, and maybe don’t speak on things you don’t know anything about.” Aaron bit as his arm snuck its way around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“I KNEW IT!” Scott shouted.

Becca stormed off with a huff and you turned around to see Aaron wearing a shit eating grin. You couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with disbelief at the fact that Aaron was here right now, he’d stuck up for you, and he’d called you his girlfriend. Yeah, you were fairly sure your brain had short circuited.

“Girlfriend?” Your gaze lifted to meet his.

“You know, I’d been meaning to ask.” He grinned down at you. “What do you say?”

“Yes! Of course!”

Aaron closed the gap between you and captured your lips in a kiss. All the while the moms scoffed and huffed in disbelief that you truly had taken Aaron HOTTIE Hotchner off the market. And before you had a chance to pull away, Jack and Millie came bounding over just in time to catch the last bit of your kiss.

“Does this mean Mr. Aaron can finally be my dad?” Millie asked.

Aaron leaned down to Millie’s level “Mills, I would love nothing more than to be your dad, but we have to take things slow okay? Your mom and I have a lot of grown-up decisions to make before that can happen, so I need you to be patient. Can you do that for me?”

“I can do that!”

You leaned down in front of Jack, wanting to ensure he’s included in all this. “What do you think Jack? Would you be okay with me and your dad being together? It means you and Millie will be together a lot more often.”

“Will you eventually be my mom then?”

“If your dad and I choose to get married eventually, then yeah, I’d be your stepmom.” You explained.

“I think you’d be a really good mom.” Jack wrapped his arms around you.

Aaron and you may have only just made things official, but in the last five or so months, you’d both fallen for each other. Sometimes, things are just right, and all the pieces fall into place naturally. And for the first time in a long time, you couldn’t wait to see where this leads.

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pexels-ind · 2 years ago

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vladimirpasten · 2 years ago

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Mi libro “ El zorro que aprendió a volar” con éxito en la Feria Internacional del Libro de Bogotá Colombia FILBO23

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pedgito · 7 months ago

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𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 | Joel Miller x reader

summary | a series of nights spent with a neighbor you find an unlikely connection with, sharing a similar interest to pass the time, it forms into something much more intense and suddenly, neither of you can deny it anymore.

content warning | no outbreak!joel, f!reader that is mentioned to have hair that can be pushed back but no exact length, descriptions of outfits, lots of w*ed smoking/consuming ed*bles, a quick mention of a burn, joel being a good neighbor, he's still the biggest girl dad, age gap implied but readers isn't specified, joel's not afraid to go for what he wants, most of the interactions happen while they're high so please keep that in mind when reading, lotsa boob worship, fingering, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v, mentions of joel being sterile, strangers to friends to lovers. this was written over the course of a weekend don't look at me

word count — 8k

The first and only time you see him is when you’re moving in next door, trudging in the moving boxes on your own as he seems to ready up his own truck full of boxes, followed by two younger women who seem to be bickering at him and he bypasses them with a smug smile on his face—he’s older, so you came to your own assumption that it was probably his daughters.

That’s all you know about him.

Outside of the fact he drives a truck, works long hours, and that his name is Joel.

The girl with the begrudging smile and worn out converse called his name while you were throwing away your trash and trying to not seem like the nosey neighbor.

He comes, he goes. The roar of his truck is all you hear and you never really see him outside of an occasional swish of his curtains through your own windows, but occasionally you leave your trash can out by the curb longer than necessary and it magically appears at the beginning of your driveway.

Now, you don’t want to point fingers—but the only ones tucked away are his and your own, leaving the other neighbors to fend for themselves.

It’s a simple gesture, kind.

You want to thank him but you never get the chance.

You’re curious if he’s a night owl—lights staying on even into the early hours of the morning, shadows crossing around his living room that you can see from your bedroom window, tossing and turning most nights as you struggle and struggle to fall asleep.

You’ve learned methods to help, plenty—if you ever remember to charge your vibrator it was usually your first choice, a quick release of some of the built up tension over the day and you could eventually find it easier to fall asleep. But, your tried and true method was weed.

That was it. Sometimes you didn’t even need much—an edible to curb the anxiety that filled you, a puff or two at the pen you had stashed away in your bedside drawer, but most of the time it was occupying your mind with the work of rolling the joint before smoking it out your bedroom window that helped the best.

However, tonight was different.

You toss and turn and fling the blankets away that stick to your skin, the broken ceiling fan doing nothing to quell that muggy heat that was permeating in your house from earlier in the day—it just sat frozen, menacing and taunting at you. You search through the drawer at your bedside for the small tin case covered in stickers of various interests and things you enjoyed, kicking the sliding backdoor with your foot as you traveled through the living room to your kitchen and stepping out onto your back deck.

It’s still hot, but the breeze allows a noticeable difference.

You work quietly, hunched slightly over the railing and using the faint glow of the light hanging beside your backdoor, just finishing up rolling the joint as you bring it to your tongue and the distinct creak from the house next to you grabs your attention—the sliding door mimicking your own.

Your heart races and you don’t know why. It could be one of the girls, still strangers but somehow you find it easier to look that way if it was them—Joel was intimidating, the aura he carried within just a few seconds of a glance.

It is him, unfortunately—and suddenly you feel the need to hide your stash, tossing the tin box in the cheap plastic chair you bought when you first moved in. Tucking yourself away as you light the joint and bring it to your lips.

He’s being surprisingly noisy, chair scuffing the deck as he moves it around and you look at him curiously from across the way, a fence and several feet of grass dividing you both. You can see the mug clutched in his right hand and his left hand filled with a few various things. A phone, for sure—lighting up in his hand before he lays it on the table beside him, lifting a leg over the lounge chair in a straddle-like motion before he sits down.

And he does seem like a smoker, not that you have proof or theory—it was just the vibe, but as he lights the item in his hand and takes a slow drag you quickly realize there's not an ounce of nicotine in sight. It’s clear when he catches your gaze and his brow furrows slightly, noting the similar item tucked between your own fingers and you can’t help but laugh to yourself.

You don’t say a word. Neither does he. But, he does offer a weak smile when you grab the tin box from the chair, nodding in acknowledgement. Your entire body flutters to life for some weird reason that you will absolutely blame on the THC obscuring rational thought.

Thankfully, sleep comes easy after that.

–

But, it doesn’t stay that way.

Most of the time you stay tucked inside, especially on the days and nights when the heat wasn’t as ablaze as usual, but there is usually a day or two out of the week where you find yourself outside—sometimes you lounge, or pace, but it never fails that the moment you step foot outside your backdoor, Joel does too.

Once a week, rarely twice—though it does happen, both of you find yourself in quiet submission as you smoke and enjoy the peace, even with the constant click of crickets and lighting bugs that seem attracted to both of your houses, flying around your backyard in a small swarm.

And you wanted to keep your distance, not wanting to impose on his space but your two months into these unspoken nightly meetings when your cheap lighter finally decides to shit itself, offering nothing but dull sparks against your overworked thumb, trying and failing to light the end of the joint.

Joel had been watching, an amused smile growing on his face as you cursed and tossed the lighter into your yard out of frustration—you’d grab it later, whatever. Eventually you sigh, giving up on it for the night and turning to pack away your stuff before Joel is calling over to you from his side of the fence, heart dropping into your stomach at the sound of his voice.

“I got a light,” He offers, “if you’re interested?”

It’s definitely a question. A proposition. An offering.

You scratch at your brow and hesitate for a millisecond, not giving yourself enough time to debate your answer before you’re mumbling “Fuck it,” and taking the path down the steps and to the gate that separated your yards, watching as he stepped toward you all in the same breath, feeling so much more intimidating this close—the smell of him, musky and sweet. His hair was wet, too.

He took a shower, got dressed, and immediately decided to step back out into the humid heat of Texas summer.

You pluck the lighter from his grip with a soft tug, flicking open the top. It was a good lighter, not the crappy three-pack you bought at the gas station down the road—it was chrome, engraved with a JM, and soft to the touch. You admire it for half a second before you attempt to light the end of your joint, still tucked between your lips.

But, as fate would have it, you make a fool of yourself. It wasn’t that you couldn’t get it lit, but that the wind was being your worst enemy in a situation where you just wanted to smoke the goddamn joint and go to bed.

Joel puffs at the joint between his lips and breathes out the smoke through his nose before he huffs out a low laugh and nods in your direction, reaching his arms over the fence and beckoning with his fingers for you to hand the lighter back over. You nearly go cross-eyed as his hands come toward your face—much larger than your own and far better at keeping the flame strong, he peeks around his cupped palm and waits for the end to turn a bright orange before he pulls away and you eagerly pull the smoke into your lungs.

“Thank you,” You tell him, rubbing your bare feet into the grass beneath you, patchy and poorly cut from your own mow job, but you were working the best with what you had—even if it was an ancient lawn mower you snagged at a garage sale that only worked half of the time.

You didn’t like to ask for help, hated it. But, here you were, taking help from a stranger.

Well, neighbor.

It didn’t feel fair to call him a stranger anymore, even if you’ve only spoken a little under ten words to him.

“No problem, sugar,” Joel responds and your cheeks burn with heat, that distinct nervousness spreading throughout your body that couldn’t be mistaken with anything else, “curious, though—you ain’t ever thought about investin' in a good lighter?”

You shrug, tapping away the ash gently with your fingertip and taking another puff, “Why? My neighbor’s got a perfectly good one himself?”

Joel raises his brows in unison and smiles slightly, he laughs. It’s more of a lazy chuckle.

“I… have more. I just lose them a lot. Besides, they’re only like ten bucks a pack.”

You’re waiting for him to cut the conversation short and walk back to his chair, but he finds himself leaning, arms tucked and crossed over the fence, oblivious to how daunting this felt to you—the man you’ve been so helplessly curious about for months suddenly standing in front of you and interested, unbothered…not at all what you expected from him.

“Thanks for constantly moving my trash bins,” You tell him randomly, blowing the smoke out through your lips as you tilt your chin up, “I always forget.”

Joel makes a face, wordlessly offering an “I know,” with his eyes and you roll yours in return, following it with a laugh as you pop a hip out slightly, leaning most of your weight onto one leg and crossing your arms over your chest, suddenly remembering how bare you were under your thin top, assuming you’ve probably already given him quite the show already.

Though, Joel seems like the type of man to be nice enough not to point it out.

You perk up suddenly, asking the first thing that comes to mind.

"Can I ask a question?"

Joel nods.

“What’s the JM stand for? On your lighter.”

“Sweetheart,” The laugh shakes his entire chest, “come on now.”

From sugar to sweetheart—you were clearly making quite the impression on him.

When you don’t respond he answers your question.

“Joel. Miller. I figured that was obvious,” He says, stubbing out the end of his joint into the wood on his side of the fence.

“Oh.”

“It’s on the mailbox.”

Curious, you leave him for a brief moment to slip through the side gate of your yard and….yeah, sure enough.

“I swear I’m not always like this,” You tell him as you make your way back over, forcing away the smile that was creeping its way onto your face.

“Too bad,” He responds, carding fingers through his still slightly damp hair before running his open palm over his beard, scratching at his chin, “s’pretty entertaining.”

“O-kay,” You answer, sarcasm smothering your tone, “I think it’s my bedtime, Joel Miller.”

“Goodnight then,” He bows his head slightly, “neighbor.”

The tone of it makes you snort with a soft laugh, flipping him off as you depart.

Suddenly, Joel Miller doesn’t seem all that scary.

–

The next week is suspiciously quiet, to your surprise. You’ve opted out of keeping yourself inside now that you had a friend to keep you company, but when he doesn’t show up after a few minutes, you can’t explain why you feel disappointed.

Next week is the same, his house suspiciously dark.

You can’t pass judgment—he could be busy, tired, or there could be no reason at all.

But, the need in you is there—for what, you’re not even sure.

By the third week you’re ready with a peace offering, a truce.

That night his lights are on and he’s even moving around, somewhere in his kitchen you’re assuming, but instead of sneaking out into the backyard you’re crossing over your front lawn and into his, seemingly fresh mowed and smelling of wet grass, having been under mostly rain showers all night and you knock at his door.

You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until the door opens and you smile at the sight of him, sleep pants hanging low on his hips and his shirt slightly raised by his stomach. He looks exhausted, eyes puffy with sleep as he rubs at them with his knuckles, but he doesn’t look displeased at the sight of you—in fact, he almost smiles in response.

One rolled joint in your left hand, a second in your right. It’s a wordless gesture that makes Joel scoff in amusement and nod you inside of his home. His home. That you’ve never seen until now. You were in his house and it was the most casual thing in the world. You don’t linger for long, following him toward the sliding door to his backyard but the place feels…homey. Lived in. So much unlike your own and disorganized in a way that showed years of age and memories, pictures scattered along the walls and years of personal crafts that you couldn’t examine for as long as you wished.

“Sorry I disappeared,” He acknowledges the unasked question, even though it lingered on your tongue, “—got a huge job at work, getting the site ready has been a pain in my ass.”

You share the lounge chair, taking a seat against the part of the chair that was propped up while Joel opts for the end, giving you a comfortable amount of space to stretch out if you wanted but also, and maybe instinctively, trying not to pressure you into feeling like you had to share space with him.

“Can I ask?”

Like a goddamn broken record, Joel chuckles at that. Full and genuine as he lights the end of the joint and wordlessly helps you, the same cupping motion of his hands that you welcome this time, almost eagerly.

“Ya gotta stop askin’ that,” Joel says, “especially when you’re just gonna ask anyways.”

Well.

“I’m a carpenter. Long hours, got a bad sleep schedule ‘cause of it. Pays good, though.”

“Oh, that’s…”

“Not interesting at all, I know.”

“No—no, I mean. I don’t know what I was expecting you to say. That sounds…fun?”

“If you think busted knuckles and an achy back is fun—but I’m old, can’t really escape that.”

You laugh under your breath and inhale the joint between your lips, blowing it out as you speak.

“You are not old, Joel. Come on.”

“I’ve got two fully grown daughters in college and a 401k callin’ my name in about a decade.”

“So, what? Fifty five? Fifty six? You can do better than that.”

“You’re a little shit, you know that?”

You shrug at him, a satisfied smirk stretching over your face.

It’s a back and forth game you play for a while—nights spent at his house where you bicker back and forth, offering snacks and occasionally getting the royal treatment of dinner or a late-night breakfast if Joel was feeling too antsy to sleep.

He never flirts, really. Despite how you don’t cover up around him for his own sake, always showing up in your sleep clothes that barely allowed for any modesty or the summer clothes that clung to your body and hugged your curves, allowing his eyes to trace and outline all over your figure as much as he wanted to—and sometimes he did, catching his gaze on you for a brief moment before it fades.

But, the first crack in his hard facade comes over a late night meal of pancakes and bacon, grabbing the blueberries from his fridge as he fries the meat on the stove, his elbow bumping the fridge door and knocking the small plastic box of blueberries out of your hand and to the floor, a surprised yelp coming from your throat as you scramble to catch them all.

“Shit, shit—I’m sorry, that was my fault.” You apologize, picking at the blueberries that didn’t make it, shoveling them into your hand and Joel leans down slowly, kneeling as he scoops the tainted blueberries into his own hand and dumps them in the trash.

“My bad, baby—that was on me,” It flows off his tongue with ease and if he realizes he’s said it, he doesn’t acknowledge it, “damn grease popped at me—go on, sit down. I’ll clean the rest up and we can use up what’s left.”

You both enjoy your meal without a blip, not daring to address the slip-up—he peppers you with sugars and sweethearts and the occasional honey when you get a little too combative over a topic, but never baby.

The second time is less surprising and more of a comfort, if you’re being honest with yourself.

Again, struggling with his lighter—this time your hand is holding one of those sparklers you haven’t touched since you were a child—leftovers from the bunch that Sarah and Ellie, his two daughters had brought home over the holiday. You never came over, despite his insisting invitation and running into his brother Tommy on the way home the night prior to the Fourth of July. He'd insisted too.

It just won’t light—and Joel had made the mistake of getting a few of them wet when he’d cleaned off his deck that night and suddenly you’re wondering it’s just a dud.

You hover the flame, mind drifting as you watch the flame grow and you don’t realize you’re burning yourself until Joel is pulling the items from your hands, dropping you back down into reality as you feel the sting, the sudden burn to your thumb as Joel says something that you don’t quite hear at first.

“Sweetheart, you gotta pay attention—“

You look up at him meekly and he pulls you inside with a nod of his, turning on the cold water and pulling your hand under the stream.

“Where’d you go?”

You raise your eyebrows in question, the lingering high drifting off from earlier in the night.

“Oh—just, kinda spaced out, I guess?”

Joel rubs his thumb over yours gingerly and turns off the water, grabbing you a clean washcloth stuffed with a couple pieces of ice to soothe the burn for the time being.

“Baby, you really gotta be more careful.”

Your head snaps over to him as he threw a damp paper towel into the trash and watches the sudden realization cross your face—looking for uneasiness, fear, worry; but in an instant, your body relaxes and you shake your head.

“I promise. It won’t happen again.”

You see the way his lips part slightly, almost as if he’s gearing to add a, “Me too,” for a different reason, but it never comes.

Near the end of summer, you find yourself there again.

But, things feel different.

“So, I’ve got a surprise.”

Joel leans up at your words, arm resting over his knees as you plop the bag down on the table beside the chair—Joel looks slightly worried, eyes flicking toward you and back at the bag.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never tried edibles.”

“It’s not really my thing, sugar—”

“Joel, you’ve been smoking longer than I’ve been alive.”

“Now, you know that don’t mean a damn thing.”

You shake your head in fake dismay, slipping your hand into the bag to grab a few pieces.

One for him…a couple for you.

“Aren’t those supposed to be pretty strong?”

You shrug, “I think it depends. Person to person. I’ve never tried these before, but I’ve never had a bad trip, so…”

Joel’s eyes linger, finger poking at the small, cube gummy in your hand like a child discovering a new toy.

“Hey, we’re doing this together,” You offer as a half-assed comfort, “so if it sucks, it’ll suck for both of us.”

Joel doesn’t seem to need much convincing, though. He plucks the gummy from your palm and places it on his tongue, watching as you do the same and you chew, settling back on your palms at the end of the chair, feet outstretched and crossed in front of you as you stare up at the sky.

It was a Waxing Gibbous moon, not quite full but nearly there—it hovered over Joel’s house, just enough light to illuminate the space between you two. And you wait in comfortable silence aside from the low hum of music playing inside Joel’s house, dark inside now that he had turned off all the lights as you had followed him outside.

He always spent more time out here with you than he intended nowadays.

By a half hour, you find the idle conversation quickly divulges into things more obscure, your gaze lingering on the sky longer than you realize and Joel speaks to you softly, your heart pounding slowly in your ears.

“It ain’t going nowhere.”

You turn to him slightly, blinking a few times before you realize what he’s referring to.

“Oh. Well, obviously. It’s just pretty. I could stare at it all night.”

“Can’t blame you,” Joel responds, but his eyes are nowhere near the sky.

Oblivious, your gaze lingers upwards still, leaning back so far on your hands you feel yourself slip and yelp, only caught by Joel’s hands nearly a second short of a serious head injury.

“Come here,” Joel beckons, fingers wrapping around your bicep as he pulls you forward until your back is against his chest and he allows you to lean into him, feeling him clear his throat behind you as he keeps his hands a respectable distance despite how easily he’d move you into this position to begin with.

Commendable? Sure. Frustrating? Absolutely.

If you couldn’t feel the hard, solid line of his body at your backside it wouldn’t bother you so much. And the heat of his body, scolding to the touch like a furnace. He ran hot, that much you already knew just by a few faint touches before but this—it overwhelms your senses.

You try to distract yourself, noticing the carved out wooden statue of a cowboy riding a horse while it was rearing back, you squint your eyes before perking up with a sudden question.

“Where’d you get that?”

“Get what?”

You giggle slightly, tapping at his arm to grab his attention before you point in the direction of the statue placed by the stairs, “That thing.”

“Oh, that—I…made it.” He looks away with a sudden embarrassment as you quickly twist your head up to look at him in complete and utter shock—he scrunches his face up and dares to take a peek at you from his peripheral and his face heats up when he sees you looking so rapt.

“Joel, that is insanely fucking good.”

“Sweetheart—”

“Don’t sweetheart me,” You mock his tone, “how long did that take to make?”

Joel tries to think—it’s been years now. Sarah was barely out of grade school and he had just adopted Ellie, it was all a blur anymore with both of the girls in college now.

“A month, on and off between jobs. It’s just a piece of junk, really.”

“Joel, shut up.”

Joel can’t hold back the even bigger laugh that escapes him at your bluntness.

“It’s just a hobby.”

“A hobby you seem to be really fuckin’ good at.”

Joel shrugs and you decide to leave it be, relaxing back into his chest more comfortably, though his arm lingers more closely to your body, fingertips resting against your bicep that slowly start to move on their own, whether by Joel’s own conscious movements or just by nature of seeking touch. It’s a gentle trace, it tickles and you shrug your arm slightly to which he responds with a gentle squeeze.

By the hour mark you find that Joel hates when you ask about his statues or some of the homemade structures in his backyard—littered throughout along with an old playhouse that you can only assume belonged to his daughters, much outgrown and covered in vines and weeds, intertwined through cracks in the wood.

He hates it so much he actually tries to distract you with something else. Anything.

Unfortunately, nothing really works. So, he changes gears completely.

“What’s with the sundress tonight?” Joel asks suddenly, the playful lilt to his voice hidden behind a sudden need for authority over the situation. “Gettin’ all dolled up in the middle of the night.”

“It’s new,” You say with an eagerness, rubbing your finger over the silk fabric of the dress, “do you like it?”

“You really askin’ my opinion?”

Of course. I bought it for you.

“Do you have one?” You say instead.

“It’s nice,” He runs his pointer finger and thumb over the strap on your left shoulder that slips down, lingering against your skin as his palm covers the expanse of it.

His touch feels far away but so intense, head swirling with thoughts you can’t follow—there’s a primal need there, though. And you can’t tell if he feels it too. If it’s just the weed in your system or if it’s weeks and weeks of built up tension boiling over the edge.

This is the closest Joel has allowed you to be—he’s relaxed, his barriers are down and the hand lingering on your elbow is careful but explorative, his fingers trailing to the middle of your chest, flipping the small silver necklace around your neck under his fingertips, feeling so delicate. More importantly, he feels your heart, stretching the palm out wide and over your skin.

“Y‘alright?”

You nod and shuffle your feet, planting them on the end of the chair as you pull your knees up, the dress falling just at the apex of your thighs, barely allowing any modesty and if you spread your thighs even a half inch—

Joel breaks his eyes away, watching the slow rise and fall of your chest despite your rapidly beating heart.

“That heart of yours is racin’, sugar. Are you sure?”

Again, you nod. But, the subtle shift against him forces his fingers lower as you adjust yourself higher, ass pressed right against his groin and it does no favor for Joel, who’s fingers dip just below the fabric of your dress in the process, grazing down the center of your chest.

“You nervous or something?”

Nervous, no. Joel didn’t make you nervous anymore. The heat between your legs told you otherwise, and the need for touch was impossible to ignore and maybe just for a moment—just a second, you could let him. It would solve this ridiculous ache that had grown between your legs.

Joel seems so in tune with you and he sees the way your eyes are locked on his hand, unmoving but the half of his fingers tucked under the top of your dress.

“You don’t make me nervous, Joel.”

That wasn’t necessarily the question—and suddenly, you realize your misstep, looking up at him suddenly to catch the intense look on his face, almost like he was anticipating your gaze. His bottom lip is slightly parted from his top, face flush from the summer heat but his eyes are dark, follow the path of your face until it lands on his hand and then he speaks.

“What is it then?”

The way you press your thighs together at the sound of his voice, low and heated, spoken behind a gaze that made you feel small but admired.

Touch me. Make it better.

You don’t say it, it’s only a thought.

But, Joel is a mind reader. He never leaves your sight, but his hand moves on its own accord and squeezes your breast gently. His rough and calloused palm is a stark contrast over soft skin and if you would have made any sign of not wanting this, he would’ve pulled away.

Instead, your chest cants under his touch and your head nods without an answer to his question, because he already knew.

“Lemme see ‘em, sweetheart,” It takes little effort to pull the straps down your shoulders, his other hand pushing the fabric just below your breasts, allowing them free and Joel makes a soft, low noise behind you as he covers your chest with both hands, thumbs grazing over your nipples as they pebble under his touch, “that feel better?”

Not good. Not alright. Better—was he helping you? Was he soothing that ache he’d created?

“Y-Yeah, yes.”

He’s just as curious, squeezing the flesh in hands and occasionally letting his finger trace down your abdomen as your dress shifts and shifts until it’s barely a means to keeping your modesty over your lap, hands pressed down at the space beside Joel’s hips as you push yourself up until your head is nearly level with his, his hands squeezing your tits together as you sigh. He hooks his chin over you shoulder and watches, your eyes falling shut as you lean your head back.

“You need more?” He asks, “Tell me, baby—I’m right here.”

The baby rings through your head like a warning bell.

Once was an accident, twice a coincidence, three times…

Stop it. Stop it now and you won’t have to face the awkwardness after your high wore off and you both had a night to sleep and think and regret—but you find yourself nodding anyway.

Why was Joel any different from a random hookup? Other than being your neighbor, slowly coming to what you consider to be a friend, crumbling apart before you as he hikes your dress up over your hips and grips it tight.

You nod to his question.

“Take those off,” He speaks over your shoulder and you don’t need persuading, fingers hooking into the underwear clinging to your hips and down, over your ankles as you kick them away and almost instantly Joel’s hands are on your knees, spreading you wide, his palms squeezing at the inside of your thigh, “shit, look at that—“

He dips a finger down the center of your pussy, through the slick pool of accumulated pleasure and pulls away, shiny and glistening against his fingertips as he breathes against the shell of your ear, “All that just from me touchin’ you?”

You could answer—keep dragging out this game of cat and mouse that had started between you but instead you reach for his hand, placing it against your cunt as he cups it with his palm, dragging the two middle most fingers up and down the seam, circling over your clit briefly before they’re plunging inside of you with ease, aided by just how wet you were—your pussy throbs around his fingers.

Words are few and far between outside of the soft, mewling noises you make into the side of his face as your arm comes up and wraps around the back of his neck, yanking at the short hair at his nape and dragging your mouth along his cheek as you breath out in short huffs, his other hand coming down to circle at your clit with no preamble—straight for the kill and eager without saying it.

His grip is heavy, forceful as his fingers pump in and out of you pussy with little care, the soft squelch of your arousal around his fingers forcing the heat to climb to your face and you feel his jeans rutting into the backside, desperate for relief just as much as you but too selfless to speak up about it.

And you feel the crest in your chest, eyes squeezing shut as your pussy flutters around his fingers, a shout that is quickly muffled by Joel’s hand as it covers your mouth, the fingers still buried inside of you and working you through the aftershocks as he shushes you gently. Your body feels like it’s vibrating, legs shaking slightly as he removes his fingers and squeezes tenderly at the inside of your thigh, feeling the dampness from his fingers spread over your skin before they’re climbing their way up your body, along your skin until he’s bringing them to his mouth silently and cleaning them up like he’d made a mess of his meal, your eyes widen at the sight and you feel overtaken, flooded with desire that you can’t sit and suffer with any longer.

“Knew I was right in callin’ you sugar,” He teases, catching your face in between his fingers as you turn to kneel between his legs, “so damn sweet.”

His fingers tap at his thighs, rough denim under his fingertips to match his overworked, weathered hands and you can’t help but admire, knowing they had been buried inside of you a few moments ago and you bow your head, popping the button of Joel’s jeans as he casually reaches for your hips, kneading the muscle of your thighs as he watches, helping you situate his jeans far enough down his own thighs that you can slip your hands past his boxers, straining against the weight of his cock, hard and aching as it reached up toward his stomach.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to,” He tells you, but you scoff slightly in amusement, not wanting to know how frazzled you look, half-lidded and bloodshot eyes under the moonlight, bare aside from the newly bought dress at your waist and Joel is most definitely still staring at your tits, his eyes dragging up to your face a few seconds too late, “I’m guessin’ we should of talked through this first but I just wanted to make you feel good—”

“You think I feel obligated?” Your eyebrow raises up slightly before you’re pulling his boxer down just enough that his cock springs out, bobbing away from his stomach slightly and you only allow yourself half a second to react.

He’s big, from root to tip you know it is the biggest you’ve ever had and you’re waiting for the cocky remark, the begging for compliments and thoughts that you hear so often during these halfway thought out hook-ups but this wasn’t that. It was weeks of build up, the tension line snapping under the weight of your unspoken desire for each other.

“Joel—”

“Don’t go boostin’ my ego,” He chuckles, “—not you, baby.”

You laugh softly and dip your head, feeling his hand curve over and through your hair, down your neck before it settles against the middle of your back and he brushes the stray hair from your face, allows his finger to rest behind your ear as you tilt your head and lick a long stripe up his cock, flicking your eyes up briefly to catch him staring, mouth closed and unnaturally stoic for a moment, like he’s holding his breath.

“Show me,” You plead with him, “whaddya like?”

You move down slightly to roll your tongue along his balls, the weight of it in your mouth as you suckle and feel his fingertips scrape gently along your skin, allowing a few moments of your own exploration before he’s wrapping his hand around his shaft and using the other to grip your chin and rubbing the tip against your half-open mouth, forcing a dribble of spit between your lips and letting it trail down the tip before he feeds his cock into your mouth, tongue spreading flat over the underside and keeping him in your eye-line before it’s nearly impossible, feeling him guide you down until his cock nudges the back of your throat with a slight sting, eyes watering.

“Look at that,” His voice is low, gruff as it rumbles in his chest, “makin’ it all fit in that pretty little moutha’ yours.”

You quickly realize that Joel enjoys watching you feel consumed by him, choking on his cock as your head bobs up and down with fervor, a gentle guiding hand against the back of your head as you breathe through your nose, feeling him nudge the back of your throat over and over and over until you find yourself fighting for air and oblivious to the symphony of curses Joel was spewing above you as his neck was tight, straining as he tipped his own head back against the chair.

And he looks too fucking good to pass up on. You rise, pulling at the collar of his shirt to grab his attention and his eyes open wide, his pupils blown out and dilated as he watches you move, biting at your bottom lip as you shuffled your legs over his hips to straddle him.

“Can you fuck me?”

“Can I—sweetheart, you sure?”

You give him a look of flippant disregard, too impatient to pace through the steps of sureness. But, Joel is focused suddenly, pulling your attention to him as his palm finds your face, cradling your cheek and rubbing his thumb over the shape of your lips.

“Don’t give me that look,” He tells you.

“Yes, Joel.” You answer him impatiently, “I just—I mean I don’t have anything, but…”

“You ain’t gotta worry about that,” Joel chuckles, “been out of commission for a while, sugar.”

You can’t help to release the giggle that bubbles in your chest at that.

He’d had kids, a family at some point—but that wasn’t his life now. He was a renewed bachelor, experiencing all the things he’d put on the back-burner to be a good and proper father. While this hadn’t been at the top of his list, or even anywhere on it really, you can see the happy satisfaction on his face with how comfortable he’s grown in the time you’ve gotten to know one another.

“Can’t tell,” You comment slyly as you lift up on your knees, allowing Joel to shift his jeans further down until they’re bunched sloppily at his ankles.

Joel rolls his eyes fondly, “Go on, baby.”

He watches, eyes following your hand as you grip his cock at the base, rubbing it along the center of your cunt, gliding through messy arousal and finding some excitement in the way he squeezes at your thighs a little too hard, fingers curling around the back of your knee as the head of his cock catches against your clit, again, again, barely allowing him to press inside of you until finally, a few harsh pleas balancing on his tongue that quickly dissipate as you sink down onto him inch by suffocating inch.

You breathe out slowly, watching Joel as he watches you, his eyes locked on the sight of his cock as it settles inside of you, only allowing the slow, gentle rock of your hips as you adjust.

His stomach flexes under your touch, fisting your hands into his shirt and lifting it out of the way before Joel gets the hint and strips himself completely, kicking his jeans off weakly as you sigh, squeezing gently as his shoulders and feeling his hands grip at your backside, into the soft flesh of your cheeks and you strip the wrinkled fabric over your head, tossing it somewhere behind Joel’s head as you fingers grip along the edge the bar of the chair above his head, lifting your hips in time with his movements as he keeps a firm hand on you, allowing soft puffs of groans to fall from his lips as your tits bounce with the frantic movement and Joel leans forward, capturing the side of your breast between his teeth, a gentle bite that causes you to squeak.

It’s quickly soothed by his tongue before he flicks it over your nipple, circling the peaked and pebbled nub before he’s sucking it between his teeth, eyes locking on yours from the depraved angle it allows you, still able to spot the few shining grays of his hair in this light. You card your fingers through his hair and arch your chest into his mouth, “J-Joel, maybe we should move this inside.”

He shakes his head, mouth still stuffed full with you as you moan out loudly when he smacks your ass in one gentle but solid swing and you want to blame his boldness on the dwindling drug in your system, but somehow you come to the conclusion that it was just Joel, unbridled and wanting. Of you.

“Not a chance in hell, sweetheart,” Joel disagrees as he pulls back, “no one gives a damn ‘round here, anyways.”

“Says you,” You laugh weakly, whimpering softly as he snaps his hips into you with sudden force, his hand reaching for the back of your neck to urge you forward, forgoing your body for your lips and it’s more intense than anything else going on around you—his cock stuffed inside of you, the fingers on your skin, it didn’t matter for that brief second of a first touch, kissing you sloppily as you moan into each other’s shared space.

“Well, I do—got this one neighbor,” He jokes, “nosey as shit but damn is she a good fuckin’ time.”

You gasp as he pulls you close, free arm wrapping around your back as he slips his tongue past your lips, using the opportunity as your lips part to devour you in an instant and you pull at the stands of his hair in turn, kissing him back with a harsh pressure that begs for more.

“M’not nosey,” You defend lamely, “just—fuck, curious, ya know?”

“Thank god for that,” Joel sighs, and your pussy flutters before squeezing around him, “oh, fuck baby—do that... do that again.”

You do, teasingly, watching as Joel curses under his breath and leans back, watching you move against him without shame, a hand pressing against your stomach to guide you to lean back slightly, “Look at that, sweetheart—makin’ a goddamn mess on me.”

The short, coarse hair at his groin is wet and sure enough, covered in the messy slick of you and mixed with the thin sheen of sweat that had covered both of your bodies in this sticky heat.

“You like the idea of gettin’ high and letting me fuck you?” Joel questions amongst the pound of your heart in your ears, the heat of his gaze quickly driving you toward the edge again. He chuckles, “Dirty—dirty girl. Was that what you’ve been plannin’ since the beginning?”

“Would’ve let you fuck me either way,” You admit, only a half-truth. You weren’t sure if you’d ever pluck up the courage had Joel not made the first move, but you’re damn sure glad he did anyways, “and with a cock like that, god—”

“Easy,” Joel warns, “givin’ me a complex the way you were looking at it.”

“It’s big, Joel.” You admit, pushing the stray hair that had fallen down over his forehead away and back into this messily quaffed hair, “You like knowing I can barely fit it all in my mouth, don’t—don’t act coy about it.”

He’s not—he’d been more than willing to allow you to choke on the girth of him until you begged for mercy, but given his normally gentle nature with you, he wasn’t going to take it that far.

Your brow drags up in a pinch, moaning as his thumb presses against your clit and circles, presses down gently, just the right amount of everything to drive you to near insanity. Your thighs squeeze against his own where he has you spread out, hands balled up into fists that punch gently at his chest.

“You’re right there, baby—gotcha, I gotcha.” He murmurs, watching you intently as you grip at the arm wrapped around your back to keep you upright, fingers digging into his bicep as you tip over the edge, legs shaking through the second orgasm he’s given you that night, squeezing your eyes shut so hard you start to see the flurry of stars in your darkened vision.

Your limbs give out shortly after, falling against his chest as he snaps his hips, just near the edge himself as he groans, grunts, breathing hotly into the curve of your neck and you rub at the little spot behind his ear that makes him chuckle, “Want it all inside,” You tell him through a cloud haze of need and pure desire, “can you do that, Joel?”

“Fill you up, sugar?” He asks, sounding a little taken aback, “If that’s—if that’s somethin’ you’re comfortable with.”

You nod eagerly and he loosens the reins completely, lifting one of your legs until you can plant a foot near his hip and he pounds into you, pulling back when he feels the impending orgasm grow in his gut, hot and intense. He watches as he comes inside of you with a few slow snaps of his hips.

“Shit,” He curses after a drawn-out silence, helping you move off of him and into a more comfortable position between his legs as he grabs lazily for his shirt, cleaning up the mess of your wet arousal against his skin and letting the spoiled shirt rest over his groin for modesty, breathing in slow, full breaths.

It’s been too long for him and he knows it.

Joel reaches for the dress that caught on the edge of the chair by his head and hands it over, watching as you slipped it over your head, legs still spread out over his own and he can’t help but draw his eyes to the sight of his come dripping out between your legs and he grins subtly, motioning you forward with a tired finger that you look at curiously before scooting forward an inch, thinking he may wipe something of your face, arrange a piece of hair back into place, but instead he’s slipping his ring finger inside of you and it forces a surprised gasp from your chest.

You laugh airily and swat his hand away, “Stop that,” You tell him.

“Just makin’ sure you don’t waste any of it, sweetheart.”

You snort, flipping him off half-heartedly as you reach for your underwear, standing up to pull it back up your hips and under your dress, swaying slightly on your feet after having been sat for so long.

You sigh, pushing your hair back with your hands, suddenly feeling sticky and gross in the aftermath and Joel seems to notice, slowly redressing himself as he stands.

“Why don’t you shower?” Joel suggests, leaving his jeans unbutton but pulled back up his hips. Shirt balled up in his hand.

You look geared to say no, but Joel sweetens the deal.

He looks at his watch, nearing two in the morning.

“I’ll make us an early breakfast,” He offers, shrugging with a lazy smile, “I mean—early early, because I know you’re probably starvin’. I know I am.”

“Only if you’ll make the blueberry pancakes.”

Of course that was the ultimatum.

“Deal, sugar—go get your ass in the shower.” He nods toward the house and you laugh, running away from the hand that pushes at your back.

So, maybe Joel wasn’t the scary neighbor you assumed him to be. But, you couldn’t deny the bursting affection that was growing in your chest for him and that was even more terrifying.

And when he serves up the pancakes to you, hair damp and dripping down your back and onto the shirt he’d lent you, a small square of pancake balanced on a fork that he feeds into your mouth, you feel it.

He's still shirtless, barefoot against his kitchen floor.

“We can—we can do this again, right?”

Joel smiles, looking down at the plate as he cuts off another piece.

“I’ve been waitin’ an entire summer to get the courage to do that, or even ask you on a proper date—we can do whatever you want, sugar.”

“Dates are overrated,” You shrug, “I like this better.”

“Good,” Joel grins, “least now I can mow that lawn of yours without feelin’ bad for asking.”

“Excuse you—I do just fine on my own,” You gasp with mock offense.

You’re lying—that mower was a piece of shit and Joel could see the way your face quickly melts into embarrassment, laughing quietly behind his fist.

“I like helpin’ out,” He tells you with a shrug, beginning to list off a few things he could help work on around your house, eyes drifting off as he went through the mental list, oblivious to the sudden closeness as you leaned over the counter and capture his lips, closed mouth with both of your cheeks puffed full of pancakes.

“You ramble when you’re high,” You tease him, “it’s adorable.”

Joel grimaces at the word but relents when he sees you smile, wide and spreading out across your entire face, snatching the fork from his hand while he’s distracted.

“So, same time next week?”

“Deal, sweetheart.”

Joel doesn’t care that you show up empty-handed the following week.

And frankly, neither do you.

divider creds: @saradika-graphics

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pasca #pedro pascal characters #my writing #um i have no reason other than pure horknee-ness

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cybersunnie · 2 months ago

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18+ MDNI f!reader; rafe has reader in a headlock i fear i may have forgotten how to write smut with RAFE CAMERON

Rafe had you locked in place.

Behind you, the heat of his body engulfed yours. A strong arm snaked around your neck, your head forced into the crook of his elbow. The initial fear muddled as the buzz in your mind grew louder, your legs parted to his liking, opened and bared. That’s it, his palm traveled down your torso, just like that. And there his other hand lay, nestled between your thighs, fingers rubbing circles over your clit.

Rafe didn’t know how to play an instrument. He never had the patience to learn. But the strum of his fingers had you letting out the prettiest sounds no instrument could replicate. It made his ego swell.

Your hips lifted in protest for more. All you earned was a tut, the arm around your neck tightening ever so slightly. It was enough to subdue you back into place.

“Greedy bitch,” he scoffed. You could almost see his smirk. “You’re gonna take what you get. Got it?”

Shrouded with lust, you moaned in response, grabbing at his arm, fingers digging into his flesh. Rafe chuckled, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest. He lifted his hand to your lips, and without needing to be told, you parted them, allowing his digits to slide into your mouth, tongue swirling, tasting your sweet nectar on him.

Yeah, he had you all figured out.

thank you so much for reading! haven't written anything in a hot minute so my writing is.... not the best. also just made a side blog that'll act as a taglist! if you're interested, follow @sunniefics to be notified for all my future fics!

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #RAFE LET ME B-A-N-G BABY!#（ sunnie writes obx! ）#✶ — rafe cameron

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svtiddiess · 8 days ago

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AssCoups

Synopsis: It's not your fault that your boyfriend has such a biteable ass.

Pairing: Seungcheol x afab!reader

Genre: fluff, slight crack, established relationship

Rating: sfw

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: ass biting but nothing sexual, lemme know if I missed anything!

Note: Is this fueled by my very feral need of sinking my teeth into his ass? ...no.

Thank you always to @tusswrites for beta reading!

Here's your juicy ass Chee @nothoughtsjustfic

Click here to join my taglist!

Read on ao3

Reblogs are appreciated ♡

.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ

You step out of the bathroom, feeling refreshed after washing away the day’s troubles. Dressed in a comfy oversized hoodie—which you may or may not have stolen from your boyfriend, Seungcheol—and a pair of shorts, you spot him lying shirtless on his stomach on the bed, lazily scrolling through his phone.

You pause, taking a moment to admire him. Even though you can only see his back, it’s still the most handsome view you’ve ever laid eyes on. Your gaze travels from his broad shoulders to his toned back, eventually landing on his undeniably plump butt. Damn, you think, his ass is huge. You hate to admit it, but it might even be bigger than yours.

Smirking, you walk over and sit down beside him, but not before giving his butt a firm squeeze. His surprised yelp makes you laugh.

"You have such a huge ass, Cheollie," you tease, giggling as he turns to look at you, his eyes wide with shock.

His cheeks flush pink as he whines in embarrassment, burying his face into the mattress. The sight only makes you laugh harder.

"It looks so juicy. Can I bite it?" You ask, grinning mischievously.

Seungcheol freezes, his head snapping up to stare at you in a mix of horror and disbelief.

"No, you weirdo!" He screeches, gently pushing you away despite his obvious mortification.

You fall back onto the mattress with a dramatic pout, still giggling at his reaction.

You sit back up, pouting and giving him your best puppy eyes.

"Please?" you plead, your voice sweet and hopeful.

"No," he replies firmly, completely unmoved by your attempt to charm him.

"C’mon, just one bite!" you whine, flailing your arms dramatically like a child mid-tantrum.

"Y/N, you are not biting my ass," he deadpans, his expression unamused.

Scowling, you flop down next to him, turning your back to him as you sulk. He chuckles at your childish antics before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a warm hug. Despite the gesture, you stay stubbornly faced away, refusing to give in.

Out of nowhere, you feel his fingers digging into your sides, tickling you mercilessly. You yelp and burst into laughter, wriggling to escape his grasp, but his hold is ironclad.

"Seungcheol! Stop!" you shriek between fits of laughter, squirming as he continues his relentless attack.

He laughs along with you, clearly enjoying your struggle, then suddenly flips the both of you so he’s hovering above you. Pinning your wrists above your head with one hand, he uses the other to keep tickling you.

"Cheol! I yield! I yield!" you cry out, your stomach aching from laughing so much.

"Do you really?" he teases, raising a brow.

"Yes! Please, I can’t take it anymore!" you plead, breathless.

Finally, he lets go, chuckling as he rolls off and lies down beside you. You take a moment to catch your breath, the room falling silent except for your heavy breathing. Turning to face him, you flash him an innocent look.

"Just one bite?" you ask again, batting your eyelashes.

Seungcheol groans, turning to you with an exasperated expression. "Princess—"

"It’s not my fault your ass looks so juicy and biteable!" you defend, throwing your hands up dramatically.

His cheeks turn a deep shade of pink, and he groans in embarrassment, hiding his face in his hands. Seizing the moment, you quickly push him onto his stomach and, before he can react, take a playful bite of his butt.

"Y/N!" he yelps, completely stunned. He flips over to look at you, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

"They’re just as squishy as I imagined," you say with a devilish grin, your tone unapologetic.

His shock quickly turns into determination as he lunges at you, pinning you to the mattress. You squeak in surprise as he flips you over, pressing you down firmly.

"Cheol, what are you—" Your words trail off into a gasp as you feel him lift your hoodie and nip at your butt.

"C-Cheol!" you squeal, utterly flustered and caught off guard.

He finally lets you go, sitting back with a smug look plastered across his face. "Now we’re even," he declares, smirking triumphantly.

You stare at him, eyes wide and mouth agape, as a beat of silence passes. Then, without warning, you lunge at him again, aiming for his butt.

"Wait, no! I’m sorry!" Seungcheol yells, his voice laced with panic as he scrambles to defend himself. He’s pushed back into the mattress, throwing his hands up in a futile attempt to fend you off.

Laughing, you snap playfully at the air, dodging his grasp as he tries to grab hold of you. But Seungcheol is quick, and with a swift move, he catches your wrists, flipping you over and pinning you down on the bed once more.

"Che—" you start to protest, but your words are cut off as his lips crash into yours. The kiss is sudden and firm, momentarily making you forget everything.

His head tilts slightly, deepening the kiss, and you feel your body relaxing in his hold. When he finally pulls back, his gaze locks onto yours, his eyes soft and pleading.

"Enough with the ass biting, please?" he says, his tone almost desperate.

You pretend to think about it, letting the silence linger just long enough to enjoy his exasperated whine.

"Fine," you say with a giggle. "But only for today."

Seungcheol lets out a relieved sigh, grateful for the temporary truce, though the thought of future "mischief" visibly weighs on him. His grip on your wrists loosens, and one hand moves to gently cup your face while the other rests on your hip.

"Thank you," he murmurs softly before leaning down to kiss you again. This time, the kiss is slower and more passionate, and it sends sparks coursing through your entire body.

Your hands, now free, wander down his back, eventually making their way to his butt. Without hesitation, you give it a firm squeeze mid-kiss.

Seungcheol pulls back with a startled yelp, staring at you in utter disbelief.

"Y/N!" he exclaims, his voice a mix of shock and resignation.

You laugh unabashedly, your grin mischievous. "I couldn’t resist!"

"You’re seriously a handful," he sighs, shaking his head in mock defeat.

"But you still love me," you tease, a playful glint in your eyes.

"Unfortunately," he mutters, though his lips curl into a small smile before he leans in again. This time, he kisses you deeply, pinning your wrists firmly to the bed to keep them far away from his vulnerable backside.

Little does Seungcheol know; you might have just discovered a new obsession with his perfectly plump butt.

Taglist: @tinyelfperson @gyuguys @stay-tiny-things @tomodachiii @unlikelysublimekryptonite @miyx-amour @iamawkwardandshy @codeinebelle @brownbunnyb @do-you-remember-summer-127 @sclovreina @theidontknowmehn @toplinehyunjin @gyuhao365 @mysticfairies @cherrylovescheol @cookiearmy @4shypotato @lxnnrobin @aliiikareed @jennwonwoo

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missnxthingg · 2 months ago

Note

Gal I need lando fluff as well could u do taking care of him when he’s sick and he’s all tired and clingy

needy | LN4

pairing: Lando Norris x Female!Reader summary: After a busy month, all Lando needs is his girlfriend to take care of him words: 1 K - warnings: Sick Lando and lots of cuteness (also not proof read, sorry) author’s notes: I'm so sorry for the delay, it was a busy & unplanned week at work. But here we are, just in time to celebrate our favourite boy's birthday

main masterlist | main blog | taglist

Triple headers always hit quite hard on Lando. Since he joined Formula 1, he doesn't remember a single time he didn't end up sick after almost a month travelling around the world. And this time it wasn't different; he started having a fever the morning after he arrived from Brazil and stayed in bed all day.

Y/N found it odd to not find him in his usual state of relaxation after a full month of work: locked inside his dark gaming room, full of snacks and laughing with Max. Instead, he was wrapped around three blankets in their living room, body almost lifeless on the sofa as he watched a boring movie on TV.

“Oh, baby boy, are you feeling okay?”, she asked, putting her things down so she could check on him.

Lando smiled tired at her and shrugged, too tired to even say something. She knew he was getting sick, especially after he spent the entire flight home – and their night of sleep – coughing. She just didn’t expect for it to be that bad, to the point where the most chatty boy in the world would go speechless.

“Have you eaten?”, she ran her hands through his face and he nodded tiredly. Then she found the empty yogurt cup beside him and rolled her eyes. “A yogurt isn't eating, Lando”.

“Come cuddle, baby”, he mumbled, wrapping one of his hands around her wrist.

“I'm worried about you, my love”, she ran her hands through his curls, making him open a tired smile. “I swear to God, every triple header is the same. I won't let you go anymore”.

“It's just a way my body found of telling I'm tired”, he assured. “If you come cuddle, then I'll be fine”.

“Later, baby. I have to make lunch for us”, she pressed a kiss on top of his head and Lando whined loudly. “Stop being a baby!”

“You're evil”.

Y/N started taking things out of the fridge to start cooking their lunch, and Lando suddenly appeared behind her, wrapping his hands around her waist from behind and resting his head on the crook of her neck. She smiled at the gesture and cuddled into his touch as she cut some onions.

“Ouches my eyes”, he cried, making her giggle just before she stopped cutting the onions, to put it in the hot pan. “What are you doing?”

“Caramelized onion and creamy cheese pasta”, she revealed, making him open a big smile. “A favourite for my sick boy”.

“You're the best, baby. I love you so much”, he pressed a kiss on her shoulder, but didn't let go off her, choosing to stay glued to her side as she cooked.

“Lan, it's a bit hard to cook with you clinging onto me”, she chuckled. “Maybe sit right there and keep me company. Then I'll give you as many cuddles as you want”.

“Mmm, okay”, he smiled tiredly, finding a spot to sit close to her, as he observed her cooking. Travelling the world is nice, but he loved coming home to the love of his life, who always took the best care of him.

Suddenly, he was taken back to the early dates of their relationship, when she’d invite him over for dinner and cook him the easiest pasta that, in time, became his comfort food. That’s exactly what he needed after a long month away from home, and away from her, since she only came to the first race in Austin. His heart felt at ease when she served him a plate and found a spot next to him.

“Thank you”, he mumbled before attacking the food. “It’s so good to be home. It’s so good to be with you”.

“I was counting the seconds until you were back to me”, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and cuddled to his side as they ate in silence, just feeling each other’s presence. He learned to appreciate silence after loud days as he rested next to his favourite girl. “Are you feeling better?”

“My throat is sore, and it feels like I was hit by a truck”, he joked. “The headache is gone, though”.

“I’ll use my super healing powers to make you feel better”, she sprinkled kisses through his face, making him open a genuine smile for the first time that day. But just before she kissed him on the lips, he backed away.

“You’ll get sick, baby”.

“It will be worth it, then”, she declared, before sealing their lips into a sweet kiss. Lando had missed those lips more than anything, and if she was willing to take the risk of getting sick, then he’s not arguing about it. “I love you, my sweet boy”.

“I love you too, beautiful”, he pecked her lips once again and took a second to analyse her face from up close; the face he adored so much. “Now, can we please cuddle?”

“Yes, my whiny baby, we can”.

Lando wanted to sweep her off her feet and take her to the couch, but felt too weak to do so. Y/N almost had to do this to him to get him to stand up and walk. He collapsed onto their couch and was too tired to open his arms to invite his girlfriend to join. She still found her spot next to him and pulled him closer, until they were tangled together between the blankets.

She pressed soft kisses all over his face and watched his lips tiredly curve into a smile, just as he felt a little better to have her taking care of him. They didn't even notice they forgot to turn on the TV.

“I'm so glad you're finally home”, she whispered. “This place is too quiet without you. I don't like it”.

“I'm happy to be back with my home”, he pressed his fingers to her skin and she smiled at him. “You're the best. I missed you so much that I might as well take you with me next time”.

“Anything so we can be together”, she said. “Sleep, baby, I'll be here holding you”.

“I love you so much. You're my everything, the love of my life, the sweetest…”, he continued to list various things about her and fell asleep mid-sentence.

“I love you more, Lan”, she pressed one last kiss on his forehead before falling asleep too.

⤿ add yourself to the taglist!

#lando norris #ln4 #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris comfort #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #lando norris fluff #ln4 x reader #ln4 x y/n #ln4 x you #lando norris blurb

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meletesmusings · 2 years ago

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Salutations fellow Travelers!

Hello and welcome to my musing space!

Genshin has been giving my brain a lot of things to chew on, and a friend suggested I make an account to share those thoughts so they don’t spiral out of control in my head. I find it fascinating and incredibly fun how Genshin has been inserting references to mythology, history, literature, etc. throughout the game!

Not all of my posts will be concrete theories; rather thoughts and some open-ended questions. Also, much of this will be quite informal and I expect even with quick refreshers on information I may misremember or make mistakes. I will inevitably have to scrub around some finer details and nuance to post anything remotely casually readable. History and mythology will be points of discussion but it's been a long time since I've actively studied the topic. It also wasn't my primary realm of study and I no longer have access to certain sources I've had prior. And I sure wouldn't want to return to an academic setting...oh dear... With that being said, do take what I say with a grain of salt (maybe even a whole box's worth) and most importantly, I hope we can all have fun together pondering on the 'what-ifs' and 'maybes' of this game.

Happy musing! M

#introduction #i do apologize if my formatting of early posts are a bit odd #im unsure how to run this blog or how to present my thoughts without sounding too formal or off the walls but i shall endeavor to do my best #thank you once again fellow travelers for reading my ramblings and i hope you may find enjoyment in them

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traveler-at-heart · 4 months ago

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The Doctor's In - Part 3

Summary: Wanda gets a little jealous and you're in trooouublee.

Wanda Maximoff x F!R, Carol Danvers x F!R.

A/N: Part 1 & 2 are recent, so you can find them on my blog. Sorry I'm tired and lazy to link them. Will do that later lol.

Part 2

Coffee in an IV, that’s what you need. However, drinking it is the next best thing so you get one from the cafeteria and give the other cup to Darcy, who’s yawning in one of the stretchers that people leave in the hallway.

“Bless you”

You hum in acknowledgment, sitting next to her.

“Duty or booty?” she asks when your phone pings.

“Ha, good one. You should do stand up” you say, ignoring her.

“So, it is a booty call” Darcy insists when you begin typing, a smile on your face.

“It’s not. My neighbour was telling me something about her children. You remember them, the Maximoffs”

“The broken arm?” you nod, sipping from your cup. “Ok, so now you text her about her children? To get into her pants?”

“No! Not everything is about sex, Darcy”

“If you really think about it, it kinda is. And you still haven’t told me why she’s texting you”

“I took care of the twins the other day, when she went out on a blind date. With a man” you give her a pointed look. “And I showed them a videogame I loved when I was kid, and apparently helped to create a new obsession”

“Which one? Lara Croft?”

“Spyro”

“The purple dragon? You are such a dork” she says, scrunching up her face. You roll your eyes, ready to give her the middle finger when her pager goes off.

“Karma” you cough up and she glares.

“This conversation is not over!” she threatens, leaving you alone.

You look at the chat with Wanda.

Wanda: They both want to be Spyro for Halloween!

Y/N: Sounds cute! They could have a little Sparks floating around on their shoulder.

Wanda: It’s all they talk about every day, I swear I’m dreaming about dragons.

Y/N: Sorry?

Y/N: I do have a plan to make it up to you.

—

You’re done with the coffee, at least if you want to get some rest. Still, you pick up a latte and a scone for Wanda, and carry the new videogame as you knock on the woman’s door.

“Oh, hi!” she looks at you, confused.

“Hey. Sorry, I don’t know how you take your coffee. It’s a latte, dairy free” you hand over the cup and the scone. “And I have something for the twins”

“That’s so sweet, but they’re at school”

“Today’s not Saturday?” you say, confused. Wanda giggles at that, making you blush.

“Today is Tuesday. Come on in”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt, I’m sorry” you say, following her to the kitchen.

“I don’t have to be at work for another hour, so it’s fine” she assures you. “Plus you saved me a trip to the coffee shop”

“You know, I’ve never asked about what you do for a living” you say apologetically, only now realising that you’ve barely interacted with Wanda since you moved here.

“I’m an author and illustrator” she says.

“That’s so cool! Anything I’ve read?”

“Only if you like children’s books” the woman smiles.

“Can’t say that I have read any lately. But that’s awesome. I’m a little starstruck, I’ve never met a writer before”

Wanda laughs at that, and you blush a little.

“Oh, before I forget. Maybe this will distract them from dragons” you hand over the new videogame and Wanda arches an eyebrow.

“The solution to a videogame is another videogame?” she says with her mom voice.

“Uh… yes? It’s Crash. It’s really funny. Sorry, it was dumb, forget it” you begin to regret it, reaching for the box, but Wanda does the same thing, her hand landing on yours.

“I’m kidding. It’s very sweet of you, Y/N”

The way she says your name is almost hypnotic, and once again your eyes travel to her lips.

For the first time, you’re willing to admit that it wasn’t the alcohol that made you wanna kiss Wanda.

Still, your hands are touching and you want to lean forward.

Your phone interrupts the moment, and you apologize, thinking it might be from the hospital.

Carol: I’m outside your house :)

What?

“Work?” Wanda says when you frown.

“I’m not sure… I should get home. Sorry”

“I’ll walk you out. If you want to come by for dinner and show the boys the new game, you’re more than welcomed” she offers.

“Yeah, that sounds like fun. I’ll text you later” you promise, waving the woman goodbye.

Carol is leaning against her motorcycle, and she does a double take when you walk out of the house across the street.

“Did I get the wrong house?”

“No” you laugh. “I was at my neighbour’s, I got something for her kids”

“That’s very thoughtful” Carol holds your hand, and you try not to blush at the sudden contact.

“So, what’s up?”

“I was wondering if you’d like to come to my place tonight. I’ll cook something nice, we’ll have a lot of sex and you won’t have to hold back those pretty moans of yours”

“Such a romantic, Danvers” you roll your eyes, but smile nonetheless. “I’m in”

“Alright. See you tonight” Carol says, kissing you. That’s another thing that takes you by surprise, and you don’t know what’s gotten into her.

Walking inside your home, you open the fridge and it doesn’t hit you until you see Billy’s drawing.

You told Wanda you’d be there for dinner.

Crap.

It feels cheap to cancel over what is esentially a -very tempting- booty call, but you’re also aware that you might be thinking too much of yourself. The truth is, Wanda probably doesn’t give a crap about whether or not her workaholic neighbour comes to dinner.

A few hours later, when you’re still thinking of a way to politely reschedule, you get a text from Wanda.

Wanda: I forgot we had a thing with friends from school. Maybe some other time?

Y/N: Yeah, no worries!

You try to ignore the disappointment you feel over not seeing Wanda again, focusing on the night ahead.

Here were the facts:

Wanda dated men, obviously.

Darcy would kick your ass if she even suspected you had a crush on your straight neighbour.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s what is happening.

—

“I hope you like parmesan chicken” Carol says, as you look around her apartment. The decoration is very modern and you admire the collection of books she has. You’re more of an online article person, but right now you’re reconsidering your stance.

“Smells great” you comment, opening the bottle of white wine you brought. You hop on her kitchen counter, watching as she finishes the food.

“So, what did your neighbours say about that thing you got them?”

“I don’t know, they were at school, but maybe I’ll stop by tomorrow”

Or maybe not, considering you’re developing a crush on their beautiful mother.

“I didn’t know you liked kids so much” she comments and you shrug your shoulders.

“I mean, I’m ok with kids, but these two are really sweet and nice. One of them was at the hospital recently, he broke his arm”

“Really? And how come I didn’t hear of it?” Carol raises her eyebrows, always on top of everything that happens at her department.

“Relax, Ortho Goddess. I drove them there and took care of everything, your intern just helped with the cast” you take a sip of your wine. “I don’t even know if you were at the hospital”

“So, no dad?”

You shrug your shoulders, a bit impatient. You were hoping to push Wanda out of your mind, and Carol kept on bringing her up.

“I’m not sure what happened, if there’s a father in the picture or not… but enough about this. How’s the grant application?”

“It’s hell. But I’m glad Kamala is so committed, I’d go nuts without her”

“Must be nice, to have an intern like that” you say, thinking about the rotation of doctors you get. They’re helpful, but none of them stay long enough to understand the logistics of an ER.

“No more chat about work” Carol proclaims and you laugh.

“Oh, what else can we talk about?“

“You’re right. Maybe we shouldn’t talk at all” she pretends to think about it, standing between your legs. Your laugh is cut off by her lips on yours, moving impatiently until you let her explore your mouth with her tongue.

“Food’s gonna get cold”

“We’ll heat it up” Carol says, pulling your legs around her waist and carrying you across the apartment. “Let me show you the bedroom”

“We’re skipping the rest of the tour?”

“No, we’re definitely having sex in the shower” Carol says, making you laugh.

As her kissing becomes frantic, and you lose yourself in the feeling of skin against skin, for a brief moment, you forget those green eyes and auburn hair.

—

The rest of the week goes by in a blur. An accident in the highway keeps you locked in the hospital for 48 hours straight, and all you can manage is sleep and shower between surgeries.

You get to be for eight hours at home before returning for a day and a half shift. The only thing in your mind as you finally get in the car is working out, because you’ve seen horrible situations for the past four days and need to be so exhausted that you’ll pass out as soon as your head hits the pillow.

You go out in a sports bra and shorts, hoping the exercise helps with all the stress. After a good thirty minutes, you return home, sweating and panting.

You turn to the garden hose to pour some water on your face and neck, when you hear someone cursing and something falling.

“You ok?” you run to Wanda, trying to get her garbage can back up.

“Yeah, thanks” she says, looking anywhere but you. “Busy lately?”

“God, you have no idea” you sigh, crossing your arms. “Heard about that crash in the highway? We had like twelve people come in”

“That’s horrible” Wanda says, finally looking at you.

“It’s the job I guess. How are you? And the twins? Did they like the game?”

“Oh, they actually haven’t had…”

You hear a motorcycle pulling up and have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. What’s Carol’s game? The blonde eyes you, and you want to smack that smug grin off her face.

“Sorry, you were saying” you ignore her, turning back to Wanda.

“It’s not important, I have to get back and make dinner” she says, saying goodbye as fast as possible. You turn back home, feeling dejected.

“Was I interrupting?” Carol asks.

“Is that supposed to mean something?”

“I don’t think you notice the way she’s looking at you, Y/N” she insists as you both step inside your house.

“Wanda? Don’t be ridiculous, she’s just my neighbour”

Your perfect, funny, beautiful neighbour who has her life together and no time to entertain a workaholic like you.

“And last time I checked, we weren’t exclusive” you add.

“Why are you trying to pick a fight with me?” she smiles, cornering you against the wall.

“Because, I don’t know what’s up with you, having me over and then showing up out of the blue. It’s very… couple-y”

“Is that so?” she leans forward, her lips barely touching yours.

“Y-yes”

“Maybe I just had a bad week, and I know for a fact you did too. So we can take a bath together, have some pizza and then fuck each other’s brains out”

This time, her lips do actually meet yours and inspite of everything, you give into the kiss.

“Unless you wanna invite your neighbour over to join us, which I’m definitely not against”

“Ugh, you’re such an ass” you break apart, rolling your eyes and going upstairs, laughing with Carol as she follows you eagerly.

—

They’ll have to move. That’s the only way to escape.

Wanda closes the door, leaning against it, hoping that the image of you, walking in those sinful clothes disappears from her mind.

Of course she had to make a fool of herself, dropping the garbage and attracting your attention.

If only she had gone out earlier, Wanda could have saved herself the trouble of witnessing that mysterious woman, who was very obviously your girlfriend, looking at you like you were an entire meal.

What if she moves in with you? What if Wanda has to see you everyday, kissing the blonde goodbye or hanging around or…?

“Mom” Tommy calls for her, and she has to pull herself together.

“Yes, sweetheart” she forces a smile, looking at her son.

“What are we having for dinner?”

“Well, I was thinking some mac and cheese”

And then, she’ll drown her sorrows in a bottle of cheap wine. Hopefully she’ll dream of you, sweaty and having your way with Wanda.

—

There’s an unfamiliar weight as you wake up, and as you turn, you look at Carol’s disheveled state.

“Blanket thief” you accuse.

“Shhh”

“Gotta pee”

“No, five more minutes” she pleads, nuzzling against your neck.

“What? Too tired after last night?” you taunt, remembering how she seemed to be insatiable and only stopped when you were too sensitive.

“Well, yeah. I rocked your world. Where’s my reward?”

“I can offer you coffee and scrambled eggs”

“Your fridge was empty, remember?”

“Oh. In that case, coffee and breakfast somewhere nice”

“Deal” she kisses your shoulder, moving to get her clothes.

“I can’t believe we have to be back in three hours” you complain, stretching. The sheet falls, leaving your entire body in full display.

“Maybe we can have something else for breakfast” Carol says, pulling you back down.

After another hour, you finally go down the stairs. You’re arguing over taking her motorcycle or your car when you hear voices outside.

Billy and Tommy are looking curiously at the motorcycle, touching the handle.

“Hey, kiddos” you greet, and they turn around, scared at being caught.

“Wanna get on it?” Carol offers and they nod excitedly.

Carol is busy showing them how it works when the front door opens, Wanda calling for the twins.

“You know you can’t leave the house like that. I am so sorry” she turns to you, but Carol is the one who answers.

“It’s no problem, really”

Wanda gives the blonde a tight smile.

“Come on, let’s get back inside”

“Oh, how long has he had the cast?” Carol says.

“Like a year” Billy says and you laugh, ruffling his hair.

“3 weeks?” you turn to Wanda.

“It’s actually 4. I meant to ask you when is he supposed to get it off”

“Come by the hospital and we’ll take a look. Children’s bones heal faster” Carol says, and it’s very obvious now that she’s inserting herself in the conversation so Wanda acknowledges she’s with you.

“Sure. I’ll text Y/N later”

“Great. I’ll make time to personally check Billy, did I get it right?” Carol turns to the kid and he nods.

“Well, Y/N has been his doctor, so I don’t think that’s necessary” Wanda pushes back, crossing her arms. All you do is look between them.

“Oh, we can both check it out if it makes you more comfortable, after all I am the head of Orthopedic Surgery”

“I thought you didn’t date other surgeons” Wanda turns, and you can finally get a glimpse of how scary she must be when one of the twins disobbeys her. She’s smiling, but her eyes tell a different story.

“I… well…” you mumble like an idiot.

“Time to go, or we won’t eat breakfast. Come on, I’m starving after last night” Carol takes your hand, pulling you away from Wanda.

You’d rather be doing an enema on a patient than witnessing this weird tug-a-war they have going on.

“Come on, boys” Wanda takes them back home, and Carol waves innocently at her.

“Seriously?” you say, ripping out the extra helmet from her hands.

“What? I was just messing with her. Come on, princess. Hold on tight”

Carol revs the engine loudly, leaving your driveway with a smile on her face.

She has the better sense to drop the subject during breakfast, picking out a small diner close to the hospital.

On the other hand, you are unable to stop thinking about everything that happened and, against your better judgement, do something that you’ll clearly regret.

You tell Darcy.

“Wait, wait, wait!” she says, holding her sides. “Your situationship and the MILF next door were fighting over you?”

“It’s not funny” you say, resisting the urge to choke her with her stethoscope.

“It so is. Girl, you gotta pick a struggle”

“You’re useless” you complain.

“No, ok, hear me out” she takes a deep breath, wiping away the tears and looking at you. “So, on one hand, you have a thing with Danvers. Do you really think she got over Rambeau already?”

“Of course not! Which is why I was fine with it being just sex. She’s the one who started doing other weird, couple stuff”

You weren’t an idiot; Carol and Maria had been together for years, and engaged until Maria left to work with Doctors Without Borders. Thought you didn’t know why they split up, it was fairly obvious that they were too proud to talk it out, but they still loved each other.

“Exactly. So, let’s say you start seeing Danvers more seriously, and then Maria comes back. You’re…”

“Fucked” you nod along, starting to understand Darcy’s point.

“On the other hand, you have the hot mom. According to you, she dates men. We have no clue if the father of her children is dead, missing, crazy… Maybe he'll come back eventually”

“And I’m fucked again” you rub your eyes, frustrated. “All I wanted was a way to destress. This is the exact opposite”

“I guess you’re very charming” Darcy shrugs her shoulders, and you’re about to thank her when she adds. “Or stupid”

In spite of everything, her words hold some truth. As you see patients and take care of the ER, you think of a way to fix everything.

Then, your phone pings and dread invades you.

Wanda: We’re in the foyer.

Fuck it, you’ll make sure you get to them before Carol and send them home before they get into another weird ass argument.

You run to find the Maximoffs, taking Billy to get an X-Ray.

“It’s urgent” you tell the technician.

But Carol is three steps ahead of you, because she asked to be informed of any patients that came to get X-Rays over cast removals.

So, by the time you and Billy come back, Wanda and Tommy are in the room, while Carol confirms Billy’s arm is completely healed.

“Hey, thank you for getting that X-Ray” Carol says with a smile and you curse to yourself.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Come on, kiddo, let’s get your arm back” you bring him to the bed, where Kamala prepares to do the removal. Carol forgets her little feud with Wanda for a moment, reminding her resident how to do the procedure.

“Is that a saw?” Wanda says, pale.

“Yes, I know it looks scary but it’s perfectly safe, I promise” you say, holding on to her arm. She looks at you, nodding and you smile, letting your hand drop to her back, rubbing slowly to calm her down. Wanda leans into the touch, her shoulders relaxing.

It’s so easy, to reach out for her.

Carol doesn’t miss the contact, but keeps on observing as Kamala cuts the cast.

Billy moves his arm tentatively.

“It might be weird at first. Try to take it easy the first few days” you say and Billy nods, keeping the cast with all stickers and drawings from his friends.

“That’s pretty much it” Carol says, removing her gloves. “If you have any questions…”

“I’ll call Y/N. Thank you” Wanda cuts off.

“Mom, we should celebrate!” Billy says. “Can Y/N come over?”

“That would be fun…” you begin to say.

“Oh, sweetheart. Y/N is very busy” Wanda speaks over you. She’s not even looking your way and you hate to admit it, it kinda hurts.

“No more running down the stairs, buddy” you say, opening the door for them. The three walk out, Tommy and Billy waving goodbye.

Carol goes after you the minute you leave the room.

“What the hell was that?”

“Excuse me?”

“The touching and the love eyes” she insists.

“You’re the one that made it weird to begin with, Carol” you say, feeling a headache approaching.

“Well, yeah. We have this thing going on and you act like you’re in love with someone else”

“Now hold on” you stop in the middle of the hallway, pointing a finger to her chest. “You and I agreed it was just sex. We don’t talk about the massive elephant in the room because frankly, it’s none of my business. But be honest. If Maria came back right now, would you not to want to be with her?”

Carol takes a step back. This is the first time you’ve seen her speechless.

“I don’t know. Maybe. If she came back, I… she would come first. But that’s just hypothetical”

“No, it isn’t. Because she is right there, Carol”

You point behind her, watching as Maria Rambeau, former head of Pediatric Surgery is talking to Chief Fury.

Carol turns her head so fast you’re shocked she didn’t snap something.

The look of adoration, longing and sorrow in her eyes tells you everything you need to know.

“Go” you smile, squeezing her arm. “You should always go after what you want, Danvers”

She nods, still too shocked to move.

You’ll let them have their reunion in private and will use the rest of your shift to mope about Wanda.

“Go home” Fury says when you stick around long after your shift. “Sorry about Danvers”

“Sir, you knew?”

“I know everything” he shrugs his shoulders and you can’t help but smile.

Of course, Carol drove you here so you take a cab home, which is fine. You’re too tired and distracted to drive anyway.

Truth is, you’re not sad about Carol. The only thing you can think about is Wanda and how she left without so much as a look in your direction.

“This the place?” the driver says and you snap out of it, handing him the money and some extra. “Sweet, thanks. Have a good night”

“You too, man”

After a shower, and eating pizza leftovers, you’re still thinking about Wanda. As you sip from your beer, and look at the tv without paying attention, someone knocks at the door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Wanda”

You jump from the couch, spilling some of the beer on your pants.

“Sorry, if it’s a bad time I’ll come back later”

“No, wait” you run to the door, opening and looking ashamed. “I spilled beer on myself. I seem to do that a lot when you’re around”

“I should have texted, I’m sorry”

“No, you can come over whenever you want. Is everything ok, are you ok?”

“Well, no” she runs her hands through her hair, and starts ranting. “I came to apologize, I was so rude to you, and I have absolutely no right to be. You have been nothing but nice, helpful and kind and I… I was a total bitch”

“Hey, hey, stop it” you take her hand, pulling her inside. “Wanda, it’s fine, I get it. I’m not mad at you”

“You have every right to be” Wanda insists, and you can see she’s spiraling, so you pull her against you, hugging her.

“I’m here. Not going anywhere”, you say against her shoulder. You only let go when you feel Wanda’s breathing going back to normal. You take a step back, your hands dropping to her waist. “Want some pizza and beer?”

“Uh… that sounds good, yeah. Can we sit on your kitchen? That way I can look out the window, just in case the twins wake up”

“Yeah, come on” you take her hand, closing the door as she enters your place.

You stay silent as you warm a slice of pizza and get another beer for you, offering her a bottle.

“I don’t think I’ve drank beer since college” she says, smiling.

“Only fancy wine?” you joke, taking a seat next to her.

“Not even that these days. Listen… I really am sorry and though it may not seem like it, I’m happy for you and Doctor Danvers”

“Oh, that’s not a thing” you interrupt her.

“Was it something I did?” she says, looking mortified.

“No, it was just… uh, never serious. I think she might be fixing things with her ex so that’s the end” you explain, removing the label of your bottle.

“Are you ok?” Wanda reaches for your hand and you blush.

Yeah, I’m ok because you’re here now.

“I am, it wasn’t serious. Honestly, it was just sex”

“Oh” Wanda blushes, and removes her hand from yours, taking a large gulp of her beer.

“I mean, we all have needs, wouldn’t you agree?” you tease, leaning forward as if you’re telling her a secret.

“I suppose so, yeah” Wanda gets lost in your eyes, hoping you close the distance.

And you want to, you really do, but Wanda gave you a hard time and you might make her sweat a little before giving in.

So, you lean back on your chair, smiling mischeviously at the other woman.

“How’s Billy? Happy to be cast free?”

“Yeah, he’s excited about getting to play that dragon game you gave them from the start”

“I guess Crash wasn’t good enough to replace Spyro” you say, understanding the twins. You always had a soft spot for the latter.

“Actually… I didn’t give them the other game” Wanda admits, chewing her lip nervously.

“Why?”

“To be honest, I wanted you to give it to them so I could… I don’t know, have an excuse to see you again”

As Wanda admits her reasoning, red invades her cheeks. Your heart skips a beat at the sweet admission, and you stand up, walking to where she’s sitting.

“You don’t ever need an excuse to talk to me”

“No?” she says, fidgeting wih her bottle.

“You can text me, call me, fax me, page me. I’ll give you my email so you have that option as well” you say, making Wanda laugh.

“I just don’t know what to talk about sometimes, I get nervous”

“Well, we could talk about the weather, how inflation is crazy high… you could tell me about the Scarlet Witch”

“You looked up one of my books?” Wanda says, blushing.

“Yeah, I have it, ready to get an autograph from the author herself”

Wanda blushes even more at that, chewing on her bottom lip. You take another teeny, tiny step towards her, eyes going to her lips.

“Or, we could not talk. There’s plenty one can do without verbal communication. Like bird watching”

“Crossword puzzles” Wanda jokes, following along.

“Kissing” you say, leaning forward until you’re inches apart. You let her decide if she wants to close the distance, and Wanda does, her lips tentatively moving against yours.

She tastes like vanilla and you sigh against her mouth, pulling her close to you.

It’s everything you imagined and more, her pretty sighs spurring you on until your hands go down her sides, and to her waist.

At the movement, Wanda breaks the kiss, making you whine.

“Is this… do you want this to be just sex?”

“You deserve more than that”

Yes, the thought of Wanda naked, moaning your name make you weak in the knees, but you also want to bring her coffee and have lunch together.

“So, does that mean…?”

“Go out on a date with me” you blurt out, trying to catch your breath.

“Yes” she nods, pulling you in for another kiss. This time, you’re not so sure you’ll be able to resist the urge of worshipping her body right in the middle of your kitchen, for all the nighbourhood to watch. “I should go”

“You only just got here” you complain, kissing down her neck.

“And if I stay, you won’t get your beauty sleep”

“Sleep is overrated” you mumble, biting down her neck playfully.

“Ok!” she holds back a moan, jumping as if your touch burns her.

“Did I hurt you?” you say, worried.

“No, it wasn’t pain that I felt” Wanda admits, turning red.

“I’ll behave” you raise your hands and Wanda steps back, not sure that she believes you. “How about next Thursday?”

“That can work, yeah. Let me just check with the nanny”

She walks to the door, lips slightly swollen.

“Sounds good. I’ll see you before that, though”

“Right, because I live across the street”

“And I might need to borrow some sugar” you joke, leaning forward to open the door, trapping Wanda’s body. “Or other stuff”

“I should go”

“You sure?”

“Yes” the woman nods, biting down her lip. Still, she pecks your lips one last time, and takes advantage of how flustered you get to walk out the door.

“Text me when you’re home” you joke, making her giggle. Still, you don’t get inside until she opens her own door, waving at you one last time.

You take your phone, reading a lenghty text from Carol saying she was really sorry about everything. And then another one comes in.

Wanda: I’m home.

Y/N: Come back.

Wanda: I wish.

Wanda: Night, Y/N

Y/N: Night, Wands.

Part 4

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff fanfic #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n

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