#I don’t mean the small driveway ones or even just one or two smaller ones

[samuraisharkie]

If you’re putting off loud ass firework tonight in the suburbs around other houses, let it be known I hate you. nearly kills my dog every year.

[bonitanightmxres]

Birthday Cake(s) || JOEL MILLER

PAIRING: Joel Miller x wife!reader (non-outbreak au)

SYNOPSIS: It’s joel’s birthday, and you have a few surprises in store for him.

WARNINGS: fluff, slight suggestiveness (aka joel wanting to get laid), mentions of pregnancy

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

A/N: Can be read as a “continuation” of “Pinky Promise”, or read on its own!

“I have to say, Tommy, you did a pretty good job with the decorating.” You take a step back, taking in all the banners and balloons and streamers that are hung around the house. It hadn’t been easy, doing all the planning for Joel’s birthday behind his back, but somehow you and Tommy managed to get it all done. 

“I know right,” Tommy laughs as he reaches into the fridge for a drink. A large white box takes up most of the room inside, undoubtedly the cake; but he’s confused when he sees a smaller one sitting next to it. “Hey, what’s in this small box?” Tommy reaches for it, letting curiosity get the best of him.

“DON’T TOUCH IT!” The sudden boom of your voice makes him jump, and Tommy lowers his hand. “I-it’s just a cake. A personal one.”

Tommy crosses his arms, raising a brow, trying to decide if he believes you. “You mean to tell me you got my brother two cakes, and he gets to have one all to himself? I love him, but he ain’t that special.”

“One day a woman will buy you two cakes for your birthday too, Tommy. You just need to learn how to keep her first,” You shoo him away from the fridge, guarding it with such protection, as if it were the last thing you’d ever do. 

“Ouch,” he laughs. “Anyways, what’d you get Joel? Is there a way I can sign it and say it's from me too?”

The mental picture of the small little box wrapped neatly in your bedroom takes over your mind. As small as the gift was, you were sure it’d have an even bigger impact on Joel once he opened it. “Sorry, Tommy, not this year. It’s not exactly something you can say we both got him.”

“What the hell is it then?”

“You’ll see.” Excitement pumped through your veins, making you giddy and nervous at the same time. 

It was still early in the afternoon, and there were many hours to go before Joel would be on his way home, which made it that much harder to sit around with his gift practically teasing you, begging to be opened. And when Joel did finally pull into the driveway that evening, your excitement and nerves only increased. 

You and Tommy shut off every light source in the house, nearly tripping and stubbing your toes multiple times as you did so. Hiding behind the dining table, you could hear the jangle of Joel’s keys as he unlocked the door, making you squeal from the anticipation. 

“Seems like you’re more excited for his birthday this year than usual,” Tommy whispers, “What’re you planning?” 

You don’t get to answer before Joel is stepping inside the house, turning on the light as he walks in.

“SURPRISE!” You leap up, throwing your hands in the air.

Joel is mesmerized by the shiny decorations, but he’s even more mesmerized by you. Seeing your bright smile and the happiness in your eyes makes him grin widely. He hurries over to you, wrapping one of his big arms around your waist, and pulling you in for a soft and sweet kiss. Your lips are soft against his, and he can taste the cherry lip balm. 

“Happy birthday, love.” You say after pulling your lips away from Joel’s, much to his dismay. 

His hands wander up and down your sides, playing with the hem of your dress. “My favorite color… Did you wear it just for me?” 

Giggling, you playfully smack his hands, and turn to the stove, “C’mon, let’s eat. I made your favorite.” 

“Not possible, my favorite meal’s standing in front of me.” He smirks, eyeing you up and down.

“Joel!” Your cheeks flush red, turning your attention to where Tommy had been the whole time.

Once Joel realized that it wasn’t just you and him home, his face turned red too. “Sorry, brother. I’ll keep it PG for you.” 

Tommy chuckled, and was finally able to wish Joel a happy birthday, now that his attention hadn’t been completely on you. 

You could barely eat anything at dinner, too overwhelmed by eagerness for Joel to open his gift. The brothers had barely finished their meal before you’re clearing the table, tossing dishes in the sink, and lighting the candles on the large cake. Together with Tommy, you sing him “happy birthday”, as you carefully bring the cake over and set it down in front of him. The dancing flames light up Joel’s face softly and beautifully, and the genuine happiness on his face makes you fall in love with him a little bit more. 

“Jesus, that’s a lot of candles.” Joel says with a light chuckle. He pulls you to sit on his lap, wrapping his arms around you tightly as he watches the wax drip onto the frosting. “Pretty soon they all won’t fit.” 

Tommy snorts as he stands across from you two, “Yeah, that’s why she got two cakes.” 

You shoot him a death glare with a look that says shut up, and Tommy immediately regrets having opened his mouth. 

“Two?” Joel questions. “What for?”

“Nevermind that, just focus on this one.” You scoot it a little closer to him, encouraging him to blow out the candles, and he does. 

Joel cuts the cake, serving slices for the three of you while you still sit with him. At some point, you feed him cake playfully, and wipe frosting on his nose. Joel kisses your cheek, transferring frosting onto your face, and whispers, “So… what do ya say we send Tommy home early and you can give me my birthday present?” 

The birthday present. 

“Shit!” You practically jump off from Joel’s lap, and retrieve the mini cake and gift. As excited and restless as you had been during the day, the thought of the present had completely slipped your mind as you ate dinner and sang to Joel. 

With the smaller cake in front of him, Joel was… confused, to say the least. “‘Happy birthday, Daddy.’” He read the letters of icing out loud, blushing a bit. As soon as the words left his mouth, your heart pounded even harder in your chest, waiting for his reaction.

Tommy seemed to have gotten the hint first, because he let out a gasp louder than you’ve ever heard, “Wait a minute, are you–”

You send him another death glare, and by now, you’ve given him enough of those that he knows to shut up. 

“Darlin’, you sure we shouldn’t send Tommy home early?” Joel asks, chuckling as he rubs the back of his neck. 

With a confused look on your face, you wonder why you’d need to send Tommy home over a cake. Happy birthday, Daddy. That’s all it said… Wait a minute… 

Daddy. 

Oh. 

A pink tint brushed over your cheeks when you realized. “Joel, get your mind together and just open the gift already.”

You know he tears the gift open painstakingly slow on purpose to mess with you, but it doesn’t stop the urge to rip the gift away from his hands and open it for him, shoving the thing in his face; but, as you never lack common sense, you wait patiently… even though you’re visibly annoyed and Joel can tell–which only makes him open it slower. 

“Joel, if you keep it up, Tommy’s spending the night and you won’t get what you want, and you know what I mean.” You threaten.

It turns out, you should’ve just threatened him a long time ago, because you’d never seen gift wrap fly off a box faster than you did at that moment.  

Joel freezes in place as his eyes are glued to the thing in the box, and suddenly he’s forgotten English. His expression intrigues Tommy, who rushes over to his brother, looking over his shoulder. You’re amused as Tommy’s eyes go wide too, jaw practically dropping to the floor. “I knew it! You are! I’m gonna be a– You’re–”

“Pregnant?” Joel picks up the positive test, holding it in his hand to make sure it’s real. He looks over at you with a softness in his eyes and adoration, and a smile creeps onto his lips. “For real?”

Nodding your head eagerly, your hand travels over your stomach. “I took like a dozen tests, you’re holding number thirteen.” 

“I’m gonna be an uncle, oh my god,” Tommy whoops and hollers in the kitchen, grabbing his cell phone and walking to the porch with a grin on his face. “Just wait ‘til I tell the guys at work that I’m gonna be an uncle.” 

Dropping the test back into its box, he rushes over to you. Joel grabs your face with his hands, kissing you playfully all over. “I can’t believe this. You’re amazing.” He drops to his knees, kissing your stomach through your dress. “Hi, babygirl, thank you for making this the best birthday ever. Daddy loves you.”

You giggle as he continues kissing your stomach, tickling you with every kiss he lays. “How do you know the baby’s gonna be a girl?” 

Joel gets up, caressing your face with a smile, “I just know.”

---

a/n: yet another late night fic... back at it again with domestic joel bc he owns my heart😭

[ruewrote]

𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑛 𝑚𝑦 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑.

PAIRING: chloe price x fem!reader WARNINGS: no use of y/n GENRE: angst, fluff SONG INSPIRATION: mind over matter by young the giant [reprise] WORD COUNT: 1.1k CHAPTERS: one, two, three

navigation | ask | chloe price masterlist

the night was long, the kind that clung to her skin no matter how hard she tried to shake it off. she sat slouched on her bed, staring blankly at the glow of the laptop screen that she wasn’t even using. 

her room felt smaller than usual. the walls too close, the air too thin.

her mom’s words echoed in her head, each one a splinter burrowing deeper. “she always stayed. she cared about you. she still does.” chloe rubbed at her face, the hollow ache in her chest hard to ignore.

what did i do?

she didn’t mean to push you away, but she did. she always did. it was her defense mechanism after all. walls up, barbed wire, keep out. no one could hurt her if they couldn’t get close, right? 

but you, you had already slipped past everything. you’d gotten in, and now it was chloe who was left staring at the wreckage of her own making.

the memory of your voice haunted her.

“i’m sorry. i–i’ll leave you alone, chloe. i’ll stay out of your way.”

that was the last thing she wanted. she knew that now, the clarity was cruel as it tore through her. she paced around her room, her thoughts a tangled mess. every moment you spent together played in her mind on an endless loop.

your laugh, the way your hand always brushed hers when you walked side by side, the look in your eyes when you poured your heart out to her in the diner. that look. the way you completely broke in front of her. she had been so stunned she couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything except sit there and let you walk away.

and now you were gone.

chloe groaned, fists clenched tightly at her sides as she kicked at a pile of clothes on her floor, trying to calm the rising frustration.

“she’s not gone forever,” a small voice whispered in the back of her mind. “not yet.”

she wasn’t even sure if she deserved another chance. you’d bared your soul to her, and she’d let you shatter yourself against the silence she gave you in return. she didn’t know how to fix it, but she knew she had to try, even if it tore her apart.

the next morning, chloe showed up at your house before the sun had even fully risen, gravel crunching beneath her boots as she stood at the edge of your driveway, staring up at your window. she felt like an idiot. it was too early, and she didn’t even know what she was going to say, but she couldn’t wait any longer. 

her chest felt tight with the weight of the things she hadn’t said. the things she should’ve said in the diner.

her breath fogged in the cold morning air as she forced herself forward, feet dragging. when she finally knocked on your door, her heart was pounding so loudly she swore you’d hear it before you opened up.

seconds stretched into agonizing minutes until the door finally creaked open, and there you were. half-asleep, hair a mess, wearing an old hoodie of… hers. that only made chloe’s stomach twist harder.

your eyes widened when you saw her, surprise flickering quickly into something harsher. “chloe? what are you doing here?”

chloe tried to speak, but her throat felt like it had been stuffed with cotton. the words tangled on her tongue, choking her.

you sighed, gripping the edge of the door, clearly still hurt from the night before. “look, if you came to make me feel worse, don’t bother. i already know how stupid i was for saying anything.”

her chest tightened. “no.” the word came out rough and desperate, too loud in the quiet morning air. chloe winced, trying again, softer this time. “no. i’m the stupid one. i… i messed up.”

you crossed your arms, clearly skeptical. “why are you here, chloe?”

“tell her. just say it.” but the words didn’t come easily. chloe looked at you. really looked at you, seeing how tired you seemed, how guarded your expression had become. your eyes puffy from crying. she’d done that. she’d hurt you.

“because i’m scared,” chloe admitted finally, the words cracking as they came out. she forced herself to hold your gaze, even as her voice trembled. “i’m scared, okay? i’m scared of losing you. i’m scared of… of what you make me feel. and i’m scared because i’ve never wanted something this much before, and i don’t know how not to screw it up.”

you blinked, as if you weren’t sure that you’d heard her correctly. “chloe…”

“no, let me finish.” chloe’s voice broke, and her hands shook as she shoved them into her jacket pockets. “you’re the only person who’s ever really given a damn about me. and i’ve spent so long pushing people away because it’s easier to let them go first than to admit i care.” her voice softened, almost pleading. 

“but you… you’re different. you got under my skin. and now i can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

the air between you was thick and heavy with silence. when you didn’t say anything, her shoulders slumped, the fight draining from her.

“i… i’ll go,” she muttered, turning to leave.

“chloe, wait.” your voice was quiet, but it stopped her cold. she turned slowly, finding you staring at her with tears pooling in your eyes.

“you… you mean it?” you asked softly, your voice unsteady. “everything you just said?”

chloe swallowed hard, nodding. “yeah. of course… i mean it. every word.”

you looked at her for a long moment before stepping forward, closing the distance between you. “you’re such an idiot,” you whispered, and for a second, chloe’s heart sank. but then you reached out, your fingers curling into the fabric of her jacket, pulling her closer until your forehead rested against hers.

“you’re an idiot,” you repeated, your voice trembling. “but so am i, because i still want you, even after everything.”

chloe let out a shaky breath, her hands hesitantly moving to rest on your waist. “i’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “for pushing you away. for everything.”

you shook your head, closing your eyes. “just don’t do it again, okay? don’t shut me out like that.”

“i won’t,” chloe promised, her voice cracking. “i swear i won’t.”

for a moment, the two of you stood there, holding onto each other. the morning air was cold, but she didn’t feel it. all she could feel was you. your warmth, the steady rise and fall of your chest, the way you held onto her like you needed her just as much as she needed you.

finally, you pulled back just enough to look at her, your expression soft but still tinged with hurt. “you have a lot to make up for, price.”

chloe managed a small, crooked smile. “yeah. i know.”

you exhaled, your lips quirking faintly. “but you’re here. that’s a start.”

“i’m not going anywhere this time,” chloe whispered, so full of certainty.

“i promise.”

comments and reblogs are appreciated ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

© ruewrote 2024.

[neonponders]

Okay okay okay, just another quick one ~

Part 32 for @wrecked-fuse ‘s pocketverse 🍦🐺🧚🏻‍♀️🦇

Part 31 (werewolf!Billy pt. 1 haha)

( pt. 7′s art 🎩 ) ( pt. 9′s art 👀 ) ( pt. 14′s art 💨 ) ( pt. 19′s art 🦇 ) ( pt. 20′s art 🍳) ( pt. 27’s art 🦦 )

~ on ao3 ~

• • •

The full moon blended into a full day. Between two overeager werewolves and keeping track of little Steve, big Steve wasn’t able to track down Robin until the sun was up. It worked out, at least, that even in with his furry ears and fluffy tail, small Billy wanted to dance to the jazzercise, allowing Steve and Robin the time to repair the front doors.

“I guess we should’ve expected this, given little Munson’s wings,” she conversed while Steve mixed an old paint can from the garage. By some stroke of luck, Billy’s damage to the door could be glued back together. With that done, Steve calked over the cracks, Robin sanded it down, and they both rolled some small paint rollers in a paint tray.

“Eddie doesn’t have wings,” Steve countered and then paused. “Does he?”

Robin shrugged, only for her eyes to light up with epiphany. “Maybe he’s fae.”

“Yeah, let’s just pretend I totally know what that means.”

Robin ignored his tone and explained, “Fae, like fairies. They come out during the full moon too.”

“Then why does little Eds have his wings all the time?”

“The full moon is fun for fae people but they don’t, like, disappear the rest of the month.”

Steve finished the base of the door and used the newel post behind him to stand up. “Whatever he’s got, it’s Chrissy’s fun problem. I’ve got wolves in my house.”

“Well,” Robin countered as she dipped her roller for some more paint, “one and a tiny half.”

Steve had to huff a laugh and offered, “Do you want a drink?”

“Yes, please.”

Steve made a lap through the living room to check on the littles: Billy was having the time of his life on the coffee table while a large wolf lay curled up on the floor, near enough as if to cushion his landing if Billy leapt off the table again. On big Billy’s fur, lay small Steve, chatting away like a small king on a palatial rug or bed.

Big Steve had no idea what the little guy was talking about, but the wolf didn’t seem to mind as his blue eyes followed Steve around. On his way back from the kitchen, Steve set down some bottle caps of drinks, fruit cubes, and a dish of water for Billy, next to a plated sandwich.

Billy made a blunt sound of disapproval at him and Steve only shrugged. “Sucks to lose your thumbs. How you doing, little man?”

“Good,” little Steve chimed, unconsciously swaying in Billy’s warm fur, little legs crossed.

“You’re going for a swim soon, B-Man,” Steve announced on his way out. He got an enthusiastic Awooo! in return. Steve didn’t know how successful a bath would be during the full moon.

No sooner did he hand Robin a glass of water, that a familiar van turned into his driveway. The whole vehicle rocked with his brakes as Steve and Robin glanced at each other when the guy swung himself out of his car. Robin simply sighed at the absence of wings, whereas Steve waved to Chrissy stepping down from the passenger seat.

“Hey! Oh my god, what happened?”

“Depends, are you afraid of big dogs?” Steve asked.

“No? I’ve wanted a dog for years, but my parents have too many expensive rugs for a dog. Say hi, guys.”

Little Eddie sat happily on her head, bat wings fluttering behind him contently while the smaller Chrissy sat on her shoulder. He waved and little Chrissy greeted, “Hi, Stevie. Hi, Wobin.” 

Robin moved aside and waved an arm to gesture Chrissy inside. “Billy’s lost for words this weekend, but his little one bites more than ever.”

Chrissy stepped over the threshold, her body sending a breeze right into Steve and Robin’s face. They both recoiled as if they had been struck by a powerful wind. A wind that smelled like fresh rain, charred flowers, and strawberry brownies.

“Woah,” Robin blurted, lifting a hand to her nose.

“Wow,” Steve agreed, a bit too wistfully.

Eddie arrive at the doors, chuckling around a cigarette before he exhaled smoke. “We just got back from a show. Haven’t slept. Chrissy had a great time.”

Robin looked at Steve, doing the math a second faster than he could. When his large brown eyes stayed a little too vacant, she swatted his chest and murmured, “Eds might have wings, but she’s fully moon-charged.”

His mouth went slack as he exhaled a soft, “Ooh...”

Eddie started to step on the threshold, but Steve barred his path. “Finish outside.”

“Really?” Eddie huffed, and retreated. “When did King Steve stop smoking? Billy’s a goddamn chain smoker.”

Robin answered, in a tone that immediately warranted Eddie furrowing his brows in concern. “Speak of the wolf. What about Billy?”

Eddie stared down the foyer hallway at the large wolf that took up half the height of the walls. “Oh. So,” he swallowed. “You’ve had an eventful night too?”

Steve’s head whirled around at his little’s voice calling from where he rode on Billy’s scruff, “Hi, Eddie! Hi, Chwissy! Eddie, pwease bweathe fire outside. It’s dang’wous.”

Steve pressed his mouth in a tired, resigned line as he nodded his head. “I’ll open the backdoor. Take your time by the pool.”

Eddie nodded once and tapped his cigarette as he pivoted to go toward the backyard. Steve and Robin had to leave the doors open for the paint to dry, as well as to ventilate the smell around the wolves. Meanwhile, Chrissy squeezed past Billy with a hand petting over one of his ears. “Scuse me, Billy.”

He made a soft growl in acknowledgement and turned back into the living room. Little Eddie made quick work of taking flight and drifting down over the coffee table. “WOW! You look so cool! Can you crow like a wock star?”

The living room filled with Eddie and Billy trying to out-howl each other. The real race became how fast Steve could fill up the Barbie pool and scoop Billy off the table. “Okay, you. Pool time and then tacos for lunch.”

“Awoo! ” Billy answered, tail wagging between Steve’s fingers. Wolf Billy tread into the kitchen, pressing his large body against the island and allowing little Steve to slide off his neck right onto the counter. Then he slotted his narrow face right in between Steve’s legs.

“Guh-ack! Hey!” A warm, wet tongue laved the inside of his thigh. “Not now!--oh MY GOD.”

Billy transformed, taking Steve with him so he sat on top of human Billy’s shoulders. His voice was still a bit rough as he ordered, “Robin. Lifeguard.”

“Aye, captain,” she snorted, “if I can burn your ass off of my retinas.”

Unbothered, Billy strolled out of the room with Steve on his shoulders, the latter warning as he dodged doorframes, “I have ceilings. Billy - I have ceilings! ”

[bestarticlesubmissionsau]

Truck Rental Options: Making Selecting the Right Truck Easy

We know that moving can feel like a mountain of tasks and decisions. It’s not just about packing boxes; it’s about uprooting your life, managing time, and dealing with the stress that comes with it. But here’s some good news: selecting the right rental truck, which is a crucial part of your moving process, doesn’t have to add to your stress.

In this post, we’re going to walk you through, step by step, how to choose the perfect truck for your move. Think of us as your friendly moving advisors, here to make this part of your journey as smooth and straightforward as possible. Whether you’re moving across town or the country, the right truck makes all the difference.

You might be wondering, “How big a truck do I need?” or “What if I choose the wrong size?” Don’t worry, we’ve got you covered. 

Understanding Your Moving Needs

Moving can be a complex puzzle, but the key piece that brings everything together is choosing the right truck. This decision hinges on understanding your unique moving needs. Why? Because, like a tailor-made suit, the right truck fits your move perfectly, ensuring everything goes smoothly without unnecessary costs or space issues.

Estimating the Volume of Your Move

How much stuff are you moving? This isn’t just about counting boxes. It’s about considering the size of your furniture, the number of rooms in your current home, and even those often forgotten items in the attic or garage. A general rule of thumb: a studio or one-bedroom apartment typically fits into a small truck, but as your living space increases, so does your need for a bigger truck.

But, don’t just eyeball it. Take a moment to list out your larger items and estimate the number of boxes. This exercise isn’t just useful for moving truck hire; it’s a great way to organize your move. Remember, an overflowing truck is a hassle, but a half-empty one means you’re paying for space you don’t need.

Considering Distance and Duration

Now, think about the distance and duration of your move. Are you relocating across town or the country? The distance influences the size of the truck you should choose. For longer moves, a larger truck may be better to avoid multiple trips. If you’re moving nearby, a smaller truck might do the job efficiently.

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Tips for Efficient Space Estimation

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Use a Moving Space Calculator: Many online tools can help you estimate the truck size based on your inventory.

Visualise with Boxes: If you’re a visual person, try marking out the dimensions of the truck in your driveway or garage, and see how your boxes and furniture might fit.

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Types of Rental Trucks Available

When it comes to moving, one size does not fit all. That’s why it’s essential to know about the different types of rental trucks available and their specific features. Whether you’re moving into a cozy studio apartment or a spacious family home, there’s a truck out there that’s perfect for your needs. 

Small Trucks: Ideal for Compact Moves

If you’re moving out of a small space like a studio or a one-bedroom apartment, a small truck is likely your best bet. These trucks are not only more affordable, but they’re also easier to maneuver through narrow city streets. Don’t underestimate their capacity; they can hold quite a bit – typically the contents of a small apartment. Plus, parking and driving a smaller truck is a breeze if you’re not used to handling larger vehicles.

Medium Trucks: The Versatile Choice

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Large Trucks: For Big Moves

Now, if you’re looking at moving a large household, or if you have particularly bulky items, a large truck is the way to go. These trucks are designed to handle significant volumes – perfect for four or more bedrooms. Yes, they can be a bit more challenging to drive, but they make up for it with their spaciousness, ensuring you might only need one trip to move everything.

Special Features to Look For

Regardless of the size, there are a couple of features you should keep an eye out for:

Tailgate Lifters: These are incredibly handy, especially if you have heavy items. A tailgate lifter can save you a lot of effort and back strain when loading and unloading your belongings.

Automatic Transmission: If you’re not comfortable with manual driving, looking to renting a moving truck with an automatic transmission. It makes the drive smoother and less stressful, particularly in stop-and-go traffic.

Benefits

Fuel Efficiency: Smaller trucks tend to be more fuel-efficient, which can save you money, especially over longer distances.

Flexibility: Medium trucks offer a good balance of space and maneuverability, making them a practical choice for various locations and parking situations.

Capacity: Large trucks might seem intimidating, but their capacity can significantly reduce the time and effort of moving. Fewer trips mean less stress and potentially lower overall costs.

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Cost-Effectiveness of the Right Truck Selection

Selecting the right truck for your move isn’t just about space; it’s also a critical factor in managing your moving budget effectively. Let’s dive into how choosing the correct truck size and type can lead to significant savings and a smoother moving experience.

Balancing Truck Size with Cost

You might be tempted to go for the largest truck, thinking it’s better to have too much space than too little. However, bigger isn’t always better. Larger trucks often come with higher rental rates and increased fuel consumption. On the flip side, a truck that’s too small could mean multiple trips, which also ramps up your costs.

Here’s a practical tip: Assess your belongings and try to accurately estimate the space you need. A truck that snugly fits your items is often the sweet spot for cost-saving. It’s like choosing a suit – you want the perfect fit, not too loose, not too tight.

Long-Term Rentals for Extended Moves

Are you planning a more extended move, maybe over a few days or weeks? Long-term truck rentals can be more economical than you think. Many rental companies offer discounts for extended rental periods. This means the longer you rent, the less you pay per day. It’s worth asking about these options, especially if your move isn’t a straightforward one-day affair.

Tips on Budgeting for the Move

Compare Rental Options: Don’t just settle for the first quote you receive. Take the time to compare different truck rental companies. Look out for hidden costs like mileage fees or insurance.

Book in Advance: Often, you can snag better rates if you book your truck well in advance. Last-minute rentals can sometimes be more expensive.

Avoid Peak Times: If possible, try to move during off-peak periods. Weekends, end of the month, or summer months tend to be pricier due to high demand.

Consider Insurance Costs: Insurance is an essential factor in your budget. Weigh the cost against the potential risks. Sometimes, your existing car insurance or credit card company might offer coverage that applies to rental trucks, so check with them first.

Fuel Efficiency: Ask about the fuel efficiency of the trucks. This can vary significantly and impact your overall cost, especially for long-distance moves.

Remember, the goal is to find that sweet spot where cost and convenience meet. By taking these steps, you can ensure that your truck hire choice is not only practical for your moving needs but also kind on your wallet.

[obitohno]

primeval | 01

satoru gojo x reader

synopsis ⤸

you have never believed in fairy-tales. besides, werewolves don’t actually exist… right?

chapters ⤸

៚ contents

next ᝰ

themes ⤸

fem! reader, 18+, dark fic, werewolf! gojo, human! reader, slow burn, soulmates, omegaverse, werewolves, mating bond, smut, masturbation, cunnilingus, blowjobs, anal, breeding, creampies, ruts, heats, action, angst, graphic depictions of violence, mentions of blood

word count ⤸

4.5k (semi-edited, lowercase intended)

a/n ⤸

this fic was originally posted onto my ao3 as a kakashi/sakura story, but it’s been well over a year since i last updated it, so now that i’m back into my writing, i wanted to change it to a reader fic. i’ve spent hours changing the names/pronouns, but i’m v tired, so if i’ve missed any, pls let me know. i used to read n write a lot of werewolf fics back in my wattpad days, so this story always makes me feel nostalgic ♡

reblogs are appreciated ~

one:

it’s the middle of summer and the first scent you inhale upon entering shirakawa is one of freshly cut grass mixed in with the heat in the air. it’s almost stifling in the back of the car, cramped between two large suitcases, despite all four windows being rolled down. up front, your father hums along to a song on the radio, fingers tapping against the steering wheel as he guides the vehicle towards your new home. 

you scowl down at your feet, clad in a pair of weather-appropriate sandals, toenails freshly painted just the night before.

the move—despite you understanding its importance—isn’t at all what you’d expected when your father had sat you down and spilled the news just six months before. you understand that your father’s job is important to him, and being promoted to head surgeon in one of the country’s top hospitals is an achievement that you can definitely appreciate. however, his success means changes. moving six hours away from your childhood hometown is the one that upsets you the most, you think. your friends, family, all left behind. not to mention that you now have to complete your final year of studies in a place that you’ve never even heard of.

but whilst your father is the one whom has remained optimistic throughout your moving journey, despite being shut in a small car for over six hours, your mother seems to share her daughter’s doubts about moving towns. you had listened their arguments during the weeks that followed your father’s promotion, but eventually, his wife had caved and eventually agreed to the move. but that doesn’t mean your mother is as enthusiastic about the move as her husband is, you conclude, glancing up to see her glaring out of the window. 

shirakawa is much smaller than you had expected. surrounded by woods that appear to expand for miles upon miles, the town is enclosed in the middle, almost hidden out of view. if it weren’t for the sat-nav, you are sure that the entrance would’ve been easily missed, the signpost having been barely visible through an overgrown bush. a few people curiously peer at the car as it rattles its way down the street, the rear end strained under the weight of the remainder of the luggage that your father had rammed into the boot earlier that morning. 

it’s a little after three pm when your little family car finally pulls into its new home in an unfamiliar driveway. 

the house itself looks larger than your previous home, you note as you scramble out of the vehicle when your father finally moves the suitcases out of your way. a waft of thick heat smacks you straight in the face and you grimace, stretching your aching legs. even clad in just a pair of denim shorts and a cropped tank top, the warmth clings to your skin in a way that makes you feel sticky and grimy at the same time. a trickle of sweat rolls down the curve of your cheek and you huff, swiping it away with the back of your hand. 

helping your parents lug their belongings into the house is easy enough. most of the furniture had been shipped over just a week ago, already placed into their respective rooms. your bedroom is located at the back of the house, the window facing out towards the large garden. it appears that your new home is situated at the edge of the town—just a small fence separating the garden from the onslaught of forestation that surrounds the building. it’s almost an eery sight, you think as you step out into the garden after hauling your suitcase into your room. 

the trees provide a form of shading as the garden is slightly cooler, much to your relief. leaning against the wall, you close your eyes, basking in the cooler air that shadows provide. you exhale, head tilting at the sound of the back door opening. your father throws a heavy arm over your shoulder, ignoring your soft grunt of surprise. 

‘what do you think?’ 

your eyes peel open to regard the happy grin on his face. the hope is evident in those glistening eyes of his, and you would have to be blind to not see his unconcealed excitement. it crushes all protests that sit on the tip of your tongue, and you swallow, head turning to look out to the bottom of the garden. gaze fixated to a young maple tree, you shrug, arms crossed over your chest. 

‘it’s nice,’ is your honest reply. you are yet to come around to his idea of moving homes, but you can appreciate the scenery. even under the shade of a large berry tree, the sun gleams down upon the garden, and the scent of grass is almost potent in the air. you deem yourself lucky to have missed out on the pollen allergy that seems to run in the family, your father’s head ducking as he suppresses a sneeze into the crook of his elbow. but despite his now reddened nose, his grin widens and you force one of your own. 

he squeezes your shoulder before removing his arm, seemingly suffering due to the heat. it’s late-afternoon, yet the sun is still high up in the sky. both you and your father are bewildered, and he voices his distaste. 

‘your mother and i are going for a walk into town,’ he wipes a trickle of sweat from his brow, ‘we need to get food—and we also need to invest in a couple of electronic fans. you want to come with?’ 

you reluctantly agree. you’re still exhausted from the car journey, and the heat definitely isn’t helping with your mood. however, you know that it’s way too warm to take a nap, and if even if you could, it’s already almost evening. deciding that you’d wait a few more hours to sleep, you think that it’s best to learn the map of the town for yourself, and you explain this to your father, who agrees. 

‘there’s still a couple of months until you start class,’ he reminds you. you hide your scowl, kicking at a raised mound in the mud. ‘but it’s best you learn the neighbourhood in the meantime. maybe you can make some new friends before you start?’ 

‘maybe,’ you repeat, not bothering to voice your doubts. 

‘c’mon, we better make a move if we want to make it back before dark.’ your father straightens, already turning towards the back door. but just as he’s tugging it open, there’s a rustling that comes from the bottom of the garden that freezes you both.

you stare at the trees as if awaiting someone to pop out, heart thumping its way down your eardrums. there’s a sudden gust of wind that spikes through the warm air, blowing your hair back from your face, and you grimaces as it cools the thin sheet of sweat that has collected on the back of your neck. your father chuckles, breaking the silence, ‘it’s probably just an animal. we do live near the woods.’ 

he enters the house, but you remain rooted to your spot by the wall. you can’t put your finger on it, but something tells you that your father is wrong, eyes straining as you peer into the threads of birch trees that spread out far past where you can see. the wind passes and you’re enveloped in silence, dazed as you stare out into the thickened tree-line. the longer that you stand there, the more you feel urged to close the gap between yourself and the fencing, but just as you take a step forward, the spell is broken by the sound of your mother calling your name. 

blinking, you frown down at your feet. sighing, you run a hand through your sweat-stained hair before making your way back inside the house, kicking the door shut behind you and meeting your mother in the kitchen. ‘i’m just going to get changed and then i’ll be ready,’ she tells you. following her up the stairs, you state that you’ll do the same, deciding to shower once you return from the walk. 

you change into a dress this time, your skin immediately thankful for the lighter fabric, less suffocated as you shove your suitcase to the corner of your room. you’ll unpack tomorrow, you promise to yourself. you’re just expelling a spritz of deodorant when something moves in the garden, catching your attention, and you turn, just in time to see a shadow moving through the trees, barely visible among the trees. heart in your throat, you call for your father, who enters the room just as the shadow disappears from view, merging between the birch trees. 

‘what’s wrong?’ he frowns, following your finger as she points. ‘i told you, it’s probably just an animal.’ he ruffles your hair, but you aren’t paying enough attention to scold him for messing your hair. he places a hand on your shoulder, ‘listen. you’re tired, we all are. your mind is probably just playing tricks on you. there’s going to be all sorts of creatures hiding out there. i’ve heard there’s even wolves.’ 

you disagree. whatever that shadow was, you know that it wasn’t just a trick of the eye. something had been stood right there in the garden, just a few yards from your home. but you do doubt that it’s a wolf, something you have no qualms of arguing with your father about. 

‘it could be, you never know,’ he laughs, poking at your ribs before leading the way down the stairs. 

‘it wasn’t a wolf,’ you argue. ‘and if it was, why aren’t you more concerned? they could be dangerous.’

he laughs again, grabbing his keys from the kitchen counter. your mother raises an eyebrow at your bickering but doesn’t join in as she slings her purse over her shoulder, husband and daughter following her out of the house. your father loiters as his wife locks the door, before you begin the walk into town. ‘if there are wolves nearby, they’re probably domesticated to some degree. i doubt they’d do actual harm to people.’ 

you can’t help but gawk at your father, incredulous, ‘they’re wild animals—of course they’d harm people!’ 

his smile is unwavering, ‘i bet you a twenty you see a wolf by the end of the month and it won’t harm you.’ 

at this, your mother slaps his shoulder, ‘don’t say things like that!’ 

‘what? it could—’

‘i don’t want her frolicking with wolves,’ she glares. 

your father rubs at the sore spot on his shoulder, grumbling something about the women in the family being superstitious. your mother argues that being cautious about wild animals isn’t a superstition, and you trail behind your parents, barely listening to their bickering. the conversation continues all the way until you reach the middle of the town. by now, you’ve received a few too many curious glances than you are comfortable with, ensuring that you’re never more than half a step behind your parents as the three of you weave your way down the street. 

it’s when you’re exiting an electronics store, your father insisting on carrying the fans home rather than having them delivered—despite the cashier’s wasted protests—that you inhale the scent of freshly cut grass once more. this time, the scent is much thicker, and you fight back the urge to gag, barely forcing down a sneeze that threatens to escape. frowning, you interrupt your parents’ conversation to ask, ‘do you have any of dad’s anti-histamines?’

fishing into her purse as you walk, your mother’s brows furrow as she presses a tablet, along with a water bottle, into your outstretched hands. ‘you feeling alright?’ even your father is frowning, hoisting the bag up onto his shoulder. 

‘no’ you look at her pointedly, quickly swallowing down the tablet before dropping the water bottle into her purse. you sniff, eyes watering slightly, ‘can’t you smell that?’ 

‘smell what?’ your mother questions, but she’s not really paying attention, already walking into another building—a butcher’s, you notice. nose crinkling, you decide to wait outside, stomach already churning at the sight of the bloodied pig’s carcass hanging up in the front window. your parents enter the small shop, leaving you to lean against the wall as you wait. the urge to sneeze returns, stronger this time, just as the scent suddenly hits you full force. 

this time, you aren’t able to suppress the sneeze that tickles its way out of your nose, only just ducking your head in time to avoid contaminating a passing woman pushing a pram in front of her. sniffing loudly, you swipe the tears free from the corner of your eyes, groaning as your head tilts upwards. pinching the bridge of your nose to halt the threat of another sneeze, your efforts are wasted, and soon, you’re sneezing not once, but three times, one after the other. groaning, you press your thumb against the ache that’s forming between your brows. the heat seems to have increased by a tenfold, but there’s nothing you can do about it, exhaling with relief at the sight of your mother rushing out of the shop, towards you. 

she shouts your name, and you blink through heavily lidded eyes, watching as she scrambles to rip a packet of tissues from her handbag, shoving one under your nose. ‘w-what are you-?’

‘you’re bleeding!’ she frets, leaning closer to assess your nose. ‘what did you do?’

‘i just sneezed,’ you bite out at the accusation, taking over your mother’s ministrations, all but shoving the tissue up your nostrils. ‘i think it’s the temperature,’ your voice sounds nasally, even to your own ears, and you don’t miss the wince that flits across your father’s face as he inspects your face.

‘we should go home,’ he comments, ‘you don’t look so well.’

wiping at your nose, you ask that he checks that your face is now clean of any blood. ‘i feel fine. it’s just the warmth.’ discarding the soiled tissues into a nearby bin, you massage an index finger to your temple, the ache suddenly searing, white hot pain flashing behind your eyelids. looking up, your gaze meets with a pair of light blue eyes that bore right through yours. however, before you can think about how damn pretty they are, the scent of freshly cut grass invades your nostrils once more, so strong that you can’t help but  whimper, sweat gathering upon your brow. the same uneasy feeling that you had felt in the garden has returned and your vision swims. someone calls out your name, but before you can look, your sight is blackened to nothing.

๑

he hadn’t expected a female human to enter his territory. much less two of them. 

the male, he’d been aware of. geto had mentioned something about a transfer at the hospital a few weeks ago, the best shirakawa can get. suguru may have told him about the male’s familial situation, but if gojo is to be completely honest, he hadn’t really been paying attention to the conversation. 

it’s not as if humans don’t already reside in the town—most that live there are descendants of the founding families of shirakawa. and whilst the wilds are allowed to walk the streets as if they were their own, it is the woods where they thrive. for centuries, those whom want to live docile lives such as the humans do, are permitted to do so, in exchange for the protection provided by the wilds who have millenniums of strength built in their very bones. however, it is no secret that majority of the wilds share the opinion that humans are the weaker species, gojo included. because of this, most of their population remain on the pack territory, situated just a mere hundred miles from the townscape. 

not far enough apart, some still argue. 

but for gojo, it is close enough to keep an eye upon on the town’s human leaders; to ensure that there won’t be another revolt. there hasn’t been one since his tenth year on this earth and he’ll be damned if he lives to see another. the relationship between man and the wild is strenuous enough, but as ruler of the forests, gojo has made it no secret that he will not hesitate to eliminate those who dare to disrupt the peace his father fought many years to create. 

and so when word gets out that the human doctor has finally arrived in town, it is gojo’s responsibility to greet him. to his knowledge, the male is fully aware of the wilds that prowl in the darkness—something which gojo is to be glad of because he’s already met his fair share of frightened humans, weak-minded males and females who simply couldn’t imaginesuch a species to exist. he’s had to eradicate a few of them too, for everyone knows that the outside world is better off not knowing of the creatures of the forests. being spared the duty of exposing his species to an outsider is relieving. 

it is indeed a hot day outside, much like both geto and nanami had complained earlier that morning. the heat clings to the skin of his human form in a way that makes his nose crinkle with disgust, upturned as he makes his way through the town. many of the wild greet him with a bow of the head, gojo’s wild basking in the small sign of respect. the humans do not entirely understand the loyalties of the hierarchy in their kingdom, but most are smart enough to veer out of his path as he comes to a halt across the road from shirakawa’s infamous butcher-shop. 

he stands with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his slacks, eyes sweeping across the street for the face he’s memorised from the file that’s now stuffed in the bottom drawer of his desk. his nose shifts through the different odours intermingling through the warm air, searching for one that he doesn’t recognise. for a few moments, he senses nothing. but then it hits him. 

it’s you that he scents first. 

all sweet, like pollen on a fresh spring day, easily standing out amongst the crowd of humans that bustle along the pathway. your  scent clouds him, the heat of the sun suddenly overbearing as he stares across the road. but there’s something wrong, he knows as soon as his heart-rate spikes, pulsing so loudly in his eardrums that he almost doesn’t hear you speak. 

‘can’t you smell that?’ 

his instincts practically purr at the sound of your voice, gently spoken with the tiniest hint of confusion, and gojo has to grip the lamppost beside him to keep himself from shedding his human skin, his jaw clenched so tightly that he wouldn’t be surprised if it snapped. and when he realises that you also sense him, he exhales, breath uncharacteristically uneven as he struggles to rein in the wild that itches to escape. 

he’s no fool. for thousands of years, pups are taught what to expect when one meets the mate that is chosen for them from the day they are born. it’s been engrained into their very history from the first findings of their species. the humans call them soulmates. 

human and wild pairings are not unheard of. but they are rare. gojo cannot even recall the last pairing recorded—long before his time, anyway. and whilst most wilds are taught that humans will have some form of reaction to being mated, their instincts have been bred out of them over thousands of years of evolution. 

you will never feel the bond as he does, or at least, that’s what has been assumed for hundreds of years. 

and when the first drop of blood spills from your pretty little nose, his throat burns as he suppresses the growl that almost escapes from the centre of his chest. his instincts scream at him to cross the road, but gojo likes to think that he has more self control than that, fists clenching so tightly that his knuckles whiten, and his pulse increases in pace when your eyes meet his, wide and glossy. 

but as soon as you are rendered unconscious, all rationality is thrown out of the window as he’s across the street before he can stop himself, moving faster than humans can blink.

the older woman, your mother, he assumes, shrieks with surprise as he catches your limp body before you hit the ground. 

gojo stares down at you, trying his best to ignore the wild that continues to purr in contentedness with your skin pressed flush against his. several people have stopped to watch, most of which are of the wild, much to gojo’s chagrin. this will be the talk of the pack before he even reaches home, he’s sure. but that’s the least of his worries, as the older woman is now frantically attempting to shake you awake. 

gojo’s lips form a snarl before he can stop it, and he blinks, surprised by his own threat. there is a murmuring in the crowd, and he sighs, knowing the action has not gone unnoticed. the human woman stares at him, her surprise morphing into anger. 

‘i will take her,’ she spits, her hand curling around your limp hand. 

the human man calls her name, and when gojo looks up, he immediately recognises his face. 

the doctor. 

and it appears that he knows exactly who gojo is too. sparing him a nod in greeting, along with a smile that resembles more of a grimace, the doctor turns to his wife, ‘she’s in safe hands.’ 

even gojo is taken aback by this. 

your mother looks murderous as her head whips to glare at her husband, ‘we don’t even know—’

‘i own this town,’ gojo speaks for the first time. he winces at the grate in his voice, forcing down the wild that scratches at the surface. despite being unconscious, you stir at the sound of his voice and gojo’s gaze snaps back down towards you, adjusting your prone form in his arms. ‘if you’d allow me,’ he pauses to swallow, tearing his eyes from your face to your mother’s, ‘i’d like to return her to your home. it’s the least i can do.’ 

the human female is evidently confused, protest on the tip her tongue, but all colour in the male’s face drains as the weight of gojo’s words settle. he suddenly hoists his wife to her feet by her arm. ‘we should do as he says. he owns this town.’ 

your mother wrenches her arm from his grasp, not paying attention as gojo shifts his grip before he stands. he easily towers over both of your parents, but to his surprise, this doesn’t intimidate the smaller woman. she stands still, glaring up at him as the male whispers an excuse in her ear—something about not getting him fired before he’s even started his job. but it seems the heat is irritating her just as much as it is him, and so she reluctantly agrees to allow him to carry her daughter home. 

escaping the leering gazes, the walk is filled with a quietly uttered welcoming. gojo tells the male to meet him the following monday morning for a formal meeting before he starts his work. ‘your care is as important to our kind as it is yours,’ he tells him, eyes glancing towards the female who is yet to calm her anger. 

halfway home, you stir in your sleep once more, face pressed to his chest. you’re so much smaller than him, scent enveloping him in a way that he’s sure he’ll never forget. gojo has to bite his bottom lip to muffle the low growl that rumbles its way down his throat, expanding across his chest. the sound, however, soothes you enough to make you still once more and only then does gojo exhales. however, his wild rumbles upon glancing at the expanse of your exposed neck and he breathes heavily through flared nostrils, grunting as he feels the familiar aching of his canines breaking past the barrier of his gums. by the time the party reaches your new home, gojo’s body is trembling, sweat heavily built upon his brow. 

he’s permitted to gently place you on your bed, hesitating just a few seconds too long before he has to swiftly leave the room in order to escape your mother’s overprotective stance. 

by the front door, the male human escorts him out of the house. gojo’s wild immediately expresses its discomfort, itching at the temptation of a bid for freedom. 

‘it’s an honour to finally meet you—’ the man begins to gush, but the sight of gojo advancing upon him forces his mouth shut, eyes wide. 

‘she’s mine.’ 

gojo seethes, wild just inches from the surface of his skin. his stomach churns and it takes all he has to swallow down the bile that threatens to escape the confides of his throat. he towers over your father, who shrinks back, remembering to bow his head and expose his neck. gojo’s wild purrs at the sign of submission. 

he forcibly inhales deeply, eyes closing. when they open, he’s not at all surprised to recognise the terror on the smaller male’s face. ‘i will have her,’ he promises, but he’s not entirely sure if it’s he or his wild who forms the words on the tip of his tongue. ‘i do not need your approval—it means nothing to me,’ he spits, smiling bitterly. ‘you have until monday to tell her of our kind. not a day later.’ the human male has no choice but to agree, frantically nodding, blinking up at him, seemingly disorientated. whether he even recognises the unspoken threat that loiters in the air—thickened by the human male's unconcealed fear—is a matter to be dealt with come monday morning. 

gojo leaves then, coated in a layer of sweat that heats him in such a way that it blows his pupils. the little control he has struggles to remain in place, only just lasting until he breaks into someone’s garden, by jumping the gate, and marching across the recently mown lawn. he barely makes it to the trees before his resolve uncoils, snapping its way down his arching spine as he hunches over, winded. he form morphs, familiar with the sound of breaking bones, the shredding of human skin that gives way to a thick coat of white fur, two legs becoming four, a whip-like tail standing proudly as he prowls deeper into the trees. 

this form is welcomed with a ripple of excitement as he allows the wild to explore, scenting the air. he doesn’t venture far, nose tracking the stench of sweetened pollen, just a few yards from where his clothes are strewn across the floor. his wild shivers, delight thrumming through his veins as his eyes latch onto the bedroom window of which he knows you sleep on the other side of the glass. he inhales your scent through his mouth, tastes it on his tongue, and swallows it down, allowing it to settle into the pit of his stomach.

mine. 

© obitohno. all rights reserved. do not repost my works.

[scarlettriot]

Stood Up

Pairing: Sero/F!Reader

Summary: When you find your dating making out with someone else at a Halloween party, Hanta swoops in and reclaims your evening, rekindling an old flame.

Contains: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Demisexual Reader, Astronomy/Greek Lore Nerd Sero, Old flame

Warnings: 18+ Below the cut, Minors DNI! Swearing, Demi Problems, Praise/Smidge of Degradation, Name-calling (slut & whore), Pet names (Love, good girl, pretty girl), Car Sex, F Masturbation, Oral M Receiving (Road Head) I think that's everything

A/N: This took me much longer than I expected. It's also my first time writing Sero. Given the season, I decided to add a touch of Halloween and costumes to this one.

If you'd like to read other's in the Stood Up series, here are the links:

Stood Up - Bakugo - WC 3,502

Stood Up - Kirishima - WC 3,612

Stood Up - Kaminari - WC 2,461

Word Count Starting Below: 3,494

Denki Kaminari's annual Halloween bash was in full swing by the time Hanta had arrived. He'd come straight from patrol, wrapping himself up in his own tape making a half assed mummy costume for himself. Not like anyone would notice with the flashing colored lights, loud music, and abundance of liquor.

However, Hanta didn't even make it up to the double glass front doors of Denki's home. Not before doing a double take at the very familiar pirate that ran by him.

"Y/N?" You stopped allowing him the chance to catch up to you, "Holy shit, it is you, when the hell did you get back?"

Three years you'd been gone, working in America. Time differences and busy schedules made it so the two of you barely kept in touch. It was a shame, Hanta thought, considering how close the two of you used to be.

"I- uh- just a few weeks now. I heard you were helping out with the disaster relief after that storm."

It had to be his eyes playing tricks on him, the funny colors of the dancing lights were what made your cheeks look wet, right? Those couldn't have been tears.

"I was, yeah, but I got back yesterday. I didn't know-"

"Get the hell outta here!" His head snapped back towards the front of the house, just in time to see Eijiro, dressed in an impressive werewolf costume, literally throw someone out of the party. The guy drunkenly stumbled off, Eijiro walking over towards where Hanta was standing with you. "Y/N, you good?"

You nodded while Hanta tried to piece together what'd happened. "Sorry, it took me a second to find the bastard. Do ya wanna come back in? I'll make sure he leaves."

"No, Eijiro, thanks though. I'm just gonna head home."

The wolfman frowned but understood. "We'll have a smaller party for ya! Just the gang as a welcome home! You know Denki will look for any excuse to throw a party." He turned his gaze on Hanta. "A mummy, really?"

"You've been a damn werewolf for the last two years! You don't get to give me crap."

Eijiro poked the fuzzy pointed red ears carefully set into his spiky hair. "Mina and I worked real hard on this costume... seemed like a waste to only wear it once."

"We both know you haven't just worn those once, big man."

That got a chuckle out of you while all Eijiro could do was shrug and try to hide a shit-eating grin.

He asked you again if you'd like to stay and once more you said you were going to just head home. It was when you specifically said you were going to be walking home that Hanta spoke up offering to drive you back to your home since it was Halloween and people were creeps.

You were a damn pro hero but he still didn't feel right about just letting you walk home alone.

When you agreed he told Eijiro he'd be back soon and walked over with you to his car.

>>><<<

A part of you missed the old station wagon Hanta used to drive, not that this BMW he now drove wasn't absolutely amazing, you just sort of missed the comfort of the old car.

He waited until he'd reached the end of Denki's long, winding driveway to finally speak. "So, you wanna tell me what happened back there, or am I just supposed to pretend like Kiri didn't kick someone out on your behalf?"

"You could probably just ask Kiri and he'd tell you."

"I could, but, I'd like to hear it from you."

You knew you could tell him, there was nothing you couldn't tell Hanta. There was once a time when the man knew every single detail about your life. Sure, time and distance had put a strain on that relationship but you were back now. There was no reason why you couldn't at least start rebuilding what you and Hanta once had.

"Y/N, if you don't wanna say anything-"

"I was just casually seeing this guy. You know me and dating, how we don't always work out." You said abruptly and he quit talking, "And so, we weren't like official but we said we'd go to this party together. Well, I got here and went looking for him and found him making out with one of Hawks' sidekicks. I got a little upset when he noticed me and, well, he just said he found someone better."

Hanta actually stopped the car, pulled off to the side of the road, threw it in park, and looked right at you because he knew what found someone better meant exactly. You'd used those words in high school when that guy from Shiketsu that you'd been seeing got pissed off that you wouldn't put out and ended it with you. You went to his dorm crying because he 'found someone better', is what you told him. It took him a few hours to get the truth out of you.

You'd always been the kind of person to love with your entire heart but sexually, you'd confessed that you felt different from all the other kids your age back then. Not having the same urges and desires that everyone else seemed stricken with.

"Hanta, it's fine, really. Kiri heard the whole thing and, well, you saw what happened."

"Doesn't make it right! So, you went on a couple dates with a guy, that doesn't mean he just gets to expect you to put out for him! Even if you weren't demi, no one gets to just assume they deserve sex."

His lips were pressed in a narrow line, nostrils flared once in annoyance. He was usually so calm and laid back that you thought it rather cute when he got overprotective. "It's alright, Hants, really."

He still gave you a look that said he disagreed but then shook his head, dropping the subject for now at least.

"Still like those late-night drives?"

"I love them."

"Good."

Hanta waited for a car to pass and whipped the car in the other direction.

It wasn't long before he had the windows rolled down, conversations filling in the blanks of lost time, in between belting out choruses of your favorite songs. Minutes slipped by the further he drove, you lost track of both time and kilometers, letting him tell you all about the ridiculous antics the group had been up to.

Eventually, you caught the scent of salty air and even in the dark, you had a pretty good idea where Hanta was going. He followed a winding road, making two left turns and then a right leaving you on a stretch of road that paralleled the ocean.

You let your head fall against the seat, eyes falling shut and inhaling that wonderful smell you missed so much. Hanta had just one hand lazily on the wheel, his elbow resting out the open window, a relaxed smile was illuminated in soft orange lights off his dash.

You let your head roll onto his shoulder, not as easily done without the bench seat in his station wagon but it worked nonetheless. "Thanks."

His free hand came to rest on your knee, "Anytime."

He turned the wheel, pulling over and parking in front of a small beach access that you guys had found at 3 in the morning five years prior. Hanta kicked off his shoes, leaving them in the car to avoid them being sand-filled and you did the same with the knee-high boots purely because you longed to feel the sand between your toes.

The wooden planks were worn, parts buried beneath the sand until eventually, none remained. Breaking waves flooded your ears and you made a run for them! Before you could reach the lapping water though, tape had wound around your middle and yanked you backward.

"Not happening!" Hanta said firmly. "Last time I let you talk me into late-night swimming we didn't have a change of clothes either and we both got so sick! I think I might have actually died without Bakugo's soup!"

You chuckled, remembering being nineteen and curled up with Hanta on the sofa in the living room of the apartment you all shared for nearly a week. The sniffles didn't cease for almost three weeks.

"Okay, okay, no swimming." You flopped back down into the sand, his tape still attached meaning the cellophane hero was pulled down with you. "Tell me about the stars then, Hants. Who's out tonight?"

Astronomy was a hobby of Hanta's you learned about after moving into the dorms your first year. It wasn't uncommon to find him out on the roof most nights, laying on his back and looking up into the clear night sky littered with twinkling stars, usually with a joint pressed between his lips. It became almost a habit for him to grab you on his way up, pulling you along because you were more than happy listening to him tell you about each constellation and the stories behind them.

It was around this time of year, in your final year of high school; somewhere between him recalling the greek mythos of Aries and Sagittarius that you noticed your heart beating a little faster. You realized something had shifted between the two of you, and, holy shit, was this what it felt like to have a crush! When the hell did that happen?

You'd entrusted everything to Hanta back then, and now, laying in the sand shoulder to shoulder while he talked about Draco, that familiar feeling stirred again. You remembered what it was supposed to be like when you weren't forcing it for some random guy. How simple it was supposed to be.

You inclined on an elbow and he stopped mid-sentence. "Eh, everything alright?" You nodded but he looked anything but convinced, mirroring your position and asking you again.

It was easy for you to lean forward, to brush your lips against his for the first time in three years. And, when you pulled away, he looked about as shocked as he had the night you'd done it when you were eighteen.

"You- you still like me?"

When you left for America, you'd both agreed to put a pause on your sort of relationship. Free to date and screw whomever you pleased because three years was a long time and it just seemed like a fair decision to make. The realization that he might now have someone else special in his life dawned on you...

"Yeah but I totally understand if things are different now and I shoulda asked- oof!"

He kissed you so hard you toppled back into the sand, quick pecks, one right after another, ending them with a long one that nearly left you breathless.

"I didn't know how to bring it up. I didn't want to make you feel awkward about things or make you think I expected something. I thought that maybe since we didn't talk for a while your feelings might have changed."

"I can say with confidence they haven't."

"Thank fuck." He groaned and captured your lips in another searing kiss.

It was easy to lift his shirt off, the shreds of tape that remained were now covered with gritty sand that clung to your fingers as you traced the chest and torso you knew so well. Gliding over defined muscles, lingering on old scars and mapping out new ones he'd collected in your time apart.

His own hands were busy flicking open the brass fastenings of your corset, huffing about it being so much more difficult to get to your chest and something about it being very unfair.

By the time he'd undone the last one, bright headlights shown across the beach. "Shit."

Giggling ensued from the walkway and you both sighed, at least it wasn't the police or a hero patrol. Hanta gathered his shirt and ran back to his car with his hand in yours.

"I thought our days of being caught were over."

"At least it wasn't Mr. Aizawa this time."

A chill ran down your spine remembering the night and the lecture you'd received when your teacher had caught Hanta sneaking out of your room early one morning.

"So, uh, do you still plan on going to Denki's party?" You asked innocently enough but Hanta knew you far too well.

"I think I'm gonna miss it this year." His hand found a home on your upper thigh. "Apparently, you and I have a lot of catching up to do. Lost time to make up for and all that."

"Too bad you don't have that old station wagon anymore. If you did, we wouldn't have to wait to get back."

Dark eyes glanced over at you not so subtly parting your legs.

"I dunno. It's not too often I travel in the backseat of my own car but I've been told it's pretty roomy. Lots of legroom."

Your hand ran over your legs, dipping down to lightly brush your more sensitive parts, thankful you opted for the thin pair of black leggings rather than the dark skinny jeans. Your fingers danced again and this time you let a soft moan pass your lips. "Eyes on the road, Hants."

"That's a little hard to do when I've got you spread out in the passenger's seat." He grabbed your free hand and pressed it against the bulge in his pants. "You've got me distracted, filthy little woman."

You appreciated him testing the waters, a subtle way of checking if you liked those nicknames he used only in private with you, giving you a chance to protest if your likes had changed. They were one's that only felt right coming from him and you were eager to hear more.

Forgoing your own high, you leaned over the center console as best you could, undoing his belt first, followed quickly by his zipper letting his strained cock be free.

His grip tightened on your leg when you kissed the tip of him. "Just like old times, huh?"

A chuckle turned quickly into a moan, taking him in your mouth, pushing yourself further on his cock, fighting your gag reflex to get him down your throat. Hanta reclined his seat further, giving you more room to work with.

Your legs clenched tighter with every groan you pulled from him, wiggling your hips in the seat, letting a hand fall back between your own legs. There was an attempt of a moan around his cock when his fingers coiled in your hair. "Such a good slut. Keep fuckin' goin'." He let you continue at your own speed, needing to focus as best he could on the road rather than what you were doing but, damn, you were making that increasingly difficult.

He wasn't stopping you though. He rarely did. You'd sucked him off on countless drives before and only stopped when- "That's it." He lifted you off him by your hair at the same time he pulled off the road. There was a convenient turn-off, hidden by overgrown brush you noticed before he shut off the headlights.

Hanta took you by the chin, smearing drool. "Backseat, pretty girl." He reached into the glove box and pulled out a foil wrapper, "What do you say we test out that legroom?"

He wait to watch your smile grow wide before crawling into the back because he had to be the first to go if this had any chance of working. Once situated, pants under his thighs, he patted his lap for you to climb over.

You slid easily onto his lap, hands traveling up and over his shoulders, kissing hard while you rocked your hips against impossibly hard length.

There was so much comfort in the familiarity of him. It wasn't awkward to fall back into rhythm with Hanta, to remember that he loved the feeling of your nails dragging down his chest. And he was just as eager to get your shirt off, reach your breasts he'd missed so much, and get his tongue on your nipples.

Your head tipped backward, loving the pace he set, hips bouncing creating the perfect tug on your nipples between his teeth.

"Love, if I promise to buy you a new pair, can I rip these damn leggings? They're just so thin and-"

"Please." Your breathy moan had him smirking and with a single grunt the leggings were ruined, cool air from the vents had only a moment to touch your bare ass before Hanta's hands reclaimed it.

There was no way he hadn't felt your arousal before ripping your clothes off, you soaked through your panties and leggings, you knew that, but that didn't stop him from commenting on how soaked you were now on his fingers. "Want me inside you, whore? I think you do."

You nodded with a whimper and he slipped a finger in. "Hants, noo- I- I want your cock, please."

"You're gonna take my fingers like a good little slut first." You clenched at the words falling from his mouth. "So fuckin' tight you can barely take a finger. How'm I supposed to fit in here if you can even take a single finger? Need you to loosen up, alright." He pushed another finger in, scissoring the two inside you.

"This gonna make you cum? You need this bad, don't you? Tell me. Tell me how bad you need to cum."

"I want it. Please, please, I need it. I'm so close," You babbled and ripped the foil open with his teeth, rolling it with one hand on his cock. In an instant, his fingers had been replaced with this dick. Sticky fingers on your ass helping you ease down on him with a hiss.

"Fuck," Hanta let out a throaty chuckle, "You still fuckin' feel the absolute best." He dropped a kiss between your breasts, letting you adjust to his girth. "Perfect. Good girl. Such a fuckin' good little slut."

He wasn't about to last long. Not once you started bouncing up and down on him, your tits right in front of his face.

"Couldn't even wait for me to get you home, had to fucking tease me in the damn car." He held onto the fat of your ass, pulling you along him and slamming you down hard.

"Kinda pathetic how desperate you are. Fuck. Kinda hot too."

When the top of your head bumped the roof of the car, he scooted lower, trying to give you as much room to ride him however you pleased.

"What do you need? You wanna cum, don't you, pretty girl, what do you need?"

"Faster, faster please."

Hanta shifted even lower, making you grab onto the two headrests while he thrust his hips up into you at a rapid speed. His thumb on your clit was the additional stimulation you needed to fall over the edge. Nails clawing at the black leather as he continued to moan below you now chasing his own release.

You stayed poised above him, using every last bit of strength to stay upright until his mouth was rambling and his cock pulsed inside of you. Fingers bruising your skin before holding your pelvis snuggly against his.

He was bent in a way that looked entirely uncomfortable and yet he still smiled so widely. Reaching up to brush hair out of your eyes, "You okay?"

"Perfects, Hants. A little sore but I'm sure you are too." He moved off his lap, letting him slip out of you with a groan, "Is your neck gonna be okay?"

"I'll be fine. Having you back, love, is more than worth a little bit of a neck cramp."

As he tied a knot in the condom, depositing it into a plastic bag he had tucked away under his seat, Hanta raised a brow, "Love, really, are you alright? Please, tell me if I hurt you at all."

"No! I'm good, why?"

"You're sitting silly."

You were sitting a little odd, perched on your knees rather than sitting on your ass because the leather was chilly and you told Hanta as much making him laugh. "Wait, I think I can help." He leaned back to the front of the car, flicking a button making it glow. Once he tucked himself back in his pants he hopped out of the car and you could see him rummaging in his trunk through the rear window.

"I keep forgetting to take this out from our camping trip a couple months ago. Guess it turned out to be a good thing." He laid the blanket down over the passenger's seat, declaring that should help a bit.

You wrapped the now toasty warm blanket around your bottom half while Hanta drove back towards the city, your head on his shoulder, his hand on your thigh.

"So, shopping tomorrow? I believe I owe you a pair of leggings..."

"It's a date."

[avintagekiss24]

one cup sugar, one cup spice | a. barber

→ pairing: andy barber x black!reader

→ word count: 7074

→ warnings: age gap, corruption kink, innocent reader, daddy kink, pain kink, smut, sex, loss of virginity, vaginal fingering, hand job (male receiving)

→ author note: happy holidays my dudes! what i would do to have andy barber standing in my kitchen... anyway, reader is i n n o c e n t, but totally of age, and in college. as always, line breaks by @firefly-graphics​, gif by @evansensations​

There’s a light dust of white covering the green lawns and black asphalt of the street. You shiver as you follow your parents out towards their car, pulling your beanie down over your ears before you shove your hands into your navy blue Dartmouth hoodie.

“Honey,” your mom coos, turning back towards you as your dad loads the car, “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us? Your aunt has plenty of room.”

“I’m positive,” you laugh, “Aunt Sohpie and I don’t get along that great anyway.”

“Well, you could try a little harder.”

Your mouth drops open, eyes wide as you stare at her, “She called me a stuck up, yuppie bitch when I told her I wasn’t going to stop using deodorant.”

Your dad chuckles, prompting a swift slap to the shoulder from your mother before she turns back towards you, “Sophie is a free spirit. She doesn’t believe in putting chemicals in or on her body. One week of trying to get along won’t hurt you.”

“Oh, it’ll hurt,” you answer, pulling her into a hug, “Smelling her B.O. for a week would actually kill me.”

Your mother tuts, pulling back and slumping her shoulders a little as she squeezes your sides gently, “I don’t want to leave you here alone for Christmas.”

“Oh, stop badgering the girl. She’ll be fine,” your dad cuts in, kissing your forehead when he approaches, “She had a tough semester, she’s allowed some alone time. Be good, baby. I left a credit card on my desk for any emergencies.”

You smile warmly, “Thanks daddy.”

There’s a sound of a door opening, then closing, heavy footsteps against the old wood of the porch next door, “Oh, Andy,” your mom calls towards the neighbor, “You got a minute?”

Your face scrunches as you glance over at your father, who sighs heavy, “Don’t get mad, baby.”

“Why would I get mad?”

“She kinda, you know,” he shrugs, knocking his head back and forth, “Asked the neighbor to look in on you while we’re gone,” when your face drops, he throws up his hands, “I didn’t do it, she did.”

“Mom!” You hiss, flipping your eyes to the tall, dark haired man cutting across his front lawn, “I don’t need a babysitter! I’m twenty years old!”

“Hush,” she whispers, plastering a smile on her face as she wraps her arm around your waist, “Sorry to bother you, Andy.”

“Oh, no, no, no. It’s okay, I was just checking the mail.”

You’re angry and embarrassed as the tall, older man approaches, but a sudden heat blooms across your chilled brown skin. Pushing your glasses up your nose, you take a heavy breath, expelling it hard as you eye him. You’ve only really seen him in passing, throwing your hand up in a friendly wave as you jogged into your childhood home during a long weekend away from school. You only vaguely remember him moving in about a year or two before. Hell, you don’t even think the two of you have uttered anything more than just a neighborly ‘hey’, and now, thanks to your mother, he’s going to be keeping an eye on you.

Just wonderful.

She smiles proudly, “You remember our daughter, right?”

“I do,” he smiles slowly, an intense pair of blue-green eyes bouncing between yours, “We’ve run into each other a few times over the years. How you doin’ kiddo?”

He reaches out, extending a large palm and long fingers. You take it gently, smiling soft as you drop your eyes from his, nerves suddenly pooling in your stomach, “Um, good. Thanks for asking. How um,” you swallow, glancing back up at him, finding his eyes still centered on you, “How are you?”

He shrugs, but keeps your much smaller hand in his, “Can’t complain.”

“Listen, honey,” your mom starts, “I asked Mr. Barber to pop over and check on you every now and again while we’re gone.”

“Mother,” fake laughter filling the air, your face hot from being annoyed to all hell, “I’m not a child, and I’m sure Mr. Barber has better things to do with his time than to check on me constantly.”

“It’s no problem,” he shrugs again, those eyes of his now roaming, down your body, then up again, slowly, “I have the next couple of weeks off myself.”

“Congrats on the promotion, by the way.” Your father smiles, finally drawing Andy’s attention away from you. He nudges your side with his elbow, “Andy’s the new District Attorney.”

You keep your eyes on the tall Andy, sliding them the length of his body. He’s sturdy. Broad shoulders not so hidden underneath his zip up hoodie, clinging to thick biceps. Dark jeans accentuate long legs and a little waist. A perfect, full beard lines his strong jaw and chin. Two enormous hands are shoved into the pockets of his pants, so large that they don’t even fit right… You inhale deep, drawing your bottom lip into your mouth, sinking your teeth into the flesh as a tiny moan slips through.

Blue eyes snap to you again as it sounds. God. Your lips part, eyes widen as they stare back at him in embarrassment. He just smiles again, slow and seemingly knowing; his eyes falling down your frame again.

“We better go if we’re gonna miss traffic, hun.” Your dad’s voice suddenly breaks into your conscience, snapping you out of the small trance that Andy Barber has leveled over you, “Andy, thanks for watching over our baby while we’re gone.”

Andy winks at you, “I won’t hover, I promise. If you need anything, at any time, I’m right next door, okay? Better yet, let me give you my number.”

You nod quick, clearing your throat as you fumble around with your phone, pulling it out of your hoodie and handing it over to him, “Sure, yeah. Th-thank you, Mr. Barber.”

“Andy,” he corrects, reaching out and cupping your elbow gently, “Please.”

Another warmth spreads through you, emanating from the contact, making you giggle and smile nervously like a stupid girl before you get a hold of yourself and blink away. You all exchange another round of pleasantries, Andy wishing your parents a safe trip before he locks eyes with you again— biting his lip as he blinks and hands your phone back before turning away and heading towards his mailbox.

Almost frozen in place, you blink as you watch him move across his grass, forcefully swallowing. You really need to get out more.

One last hug from your mom and dad and you wave as they pull out of the driveway, your mom waving excitedly at you through the windshield. Rolling your eyes, but smiling wide, you return a wave before heading back inside, locking the door behind you before making a brisk b-line to the front door.

Andy’s still outside, pushing the green trash cans up against his garage as you peek out at him from behind the thin, white, door curtains. He throws open one of the lids before dipping his head, eyeing the mail in his hand as he flips through it slowly, tossing the junk into the open can. A pink blush piques on his cheeks and the tip of his nose, lips red with the chill. He looks up suddenly— out of nowhere— and cocks his head, letting another smile curl onto his lips when the two of you make eye contact again.

You gasp and jump back, instantly turning on your heel to run up the stairs towards your bedroom, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

The smell of fresh baked cookies fills the house as you pull a pan from the oven. You hum in satisfaction, a small smile on your face as you scoop the sugar cookies onto the cooling rack before pulling your mom’s Santa Claus mittens off your hands and tossing them to the counter. Last Christmas by Wham plays from the small bluetooth speaker in the corner of the kitchen, A Charlie Brown Christmas on mute playing from the ipad leaning against the utensil holder.

There’s a random crackling from the fire you started in the living room as you move around, a whir from the mixer as it beats the eggs, powdered sugar, vanilla extract, and corn syrup together. You dip your finger into the mixture, popping it into your mouth and groaning as the sweetness explodes on your tongue before you pull the beaters out, slipping your finger down the stainless steel to collect the icing still stuck to them.

A knock sounds from the front door, permeating through the rather quiet house. You lean to the side, blinking at the door as a shadow shifts through the windows on either side. Shoving the icing laden finger into your mouth, you jog towards the door, bare feet heavy against the wood floor.

“One second, one second,” you mumble, wiping your hands on your pale pink cotton shorts before you tug at your hoodie and unlock the door. A sharp inhale of cold air fills your chest when you pull open the door to find one Andy fucking Barber standing on the opposite side, “Oh,” is all you can manage.

“Hey,” he smiles, “It’s been a few days, just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Being a biomedical engineering student, you can rattle off some of the most difficult, obscure words known to man with exactly zero problems. When it comes to social interaction with the hot, forty-something, lawyer next door? Your tongue is heavy, your brain… dumb.

His smile widens as you blink like a moron, his eyebrows climbing up his forehead as he waits for you to talk. Here’s the part where you speak, dumbass! “Um,” you stutter, “Sorry, I, uh, yeah, I’m okay. I’m good, sorry.”

“Smells good in here.”

Nodding, you bite your lip, your eyes everywhere but on his face— his stare just too much, “I’m making cookies.” you glance over your shoulder before you point, “Do you want to make some? I mean,” you slam your eyes closed, “Do you want to try some? Not, some, one, do you— do you want to try one? Or some… I guess… whatever.”

Idiot. You’re a bumbling, stumbling, idiot.

He chuckles, the rumble low and deep as he runs one of those big ass hands through his dark, soft looking hair, “That is the best offer I’ve had all day.”

He steps over the threshold, his fingers brushing over yours as he reaches to close the door. You snatch your hand from it quickly, wringing it within the other as you turn awkwardly and move towards the kitchen, swallowing hard, suddenly hyper aware of how bare your legs are.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” Andy starts from behind you, “I’m surprised to find you here and not out with some friends.”

You move behind the marble topped island in the center of the kitchen as Andy walks around the opposite side. His eyes are on you again, staring as you fumble with the spatula, your fingers going as dumb as your brain, dropping it with a loud clang. You don’t even know why— okay, you know why, but this is something deeper, something you haven’t experienced before.

“Oh,” you shrug, “No, I uh, I just kinda like to stay around the house.”

He nods slowly, “A homebody, huh? Me too.”

He makes you dizzy; his masculinity is intimidating. It fills up every little space in the room. His intelligence— worldly, experienced—  oozes from him. He looks like you could ask him anything, anything, and he’d have the right answer for you. He could teach you a thing or two, that’s for sure.

A shudder creeps through your body, heat blooming across your skin, having to shift on your feet as your stomach flutters while you focus on icing this stupid cookie. The physical space he takes up unnerves you too. That wide, towering frame looming over you. Deft, thick fingers tapping gently against the countertop as you stumble around, your hands shaky.

There’s a stickiness. A warm, little wet spot in the center of your panties as stupid thoughts run through your stupid brain. You’re being ridiculous. Like this grown man would be interested in an inexperienced, socially awkward, in bed by eight thirty, little girl. Get a grip.

You slather some icing over the warm cookie and cautiously hand it towards him, clearing your throat and forcing a smile. Wringing your hands again, you find a little courage to lift your eyes just as he pops the small cookie into his mouth, closing his eyes as he chews slowly, a grunt sounding from deep in his throat.

Every muscle in your body clenches at the sound. It’s gorgeous— and if there’s anything your body appreciates, it’s a gorgeous man with a gorgeous grunt.

“It’s okay?” You squeak, timid and small before you nervously clear your throat.

“Shit, girl,” he moans again, licking his lips as he extends his hand again, “I could eat every single one of these.”

Nervous fingers clutch another cookie, adding a dollop of icing before you hand it over to him, eyes drifting up his chest and to his face as he devours the second treat. Your curious eyes watch with a longing. Pretty, thick, dark eyelashes closing again, splashing across smooth, slightly reddened cheeks. A pink tongue darts out of a wet mouth to slip along an inviting— too inviting— bottom lip, and you zero in on it. Chest rising and falling a little harder as you blink, in your own little world as you imagine just how much experience those lips, that tongue has.

There’s a hint of blue suddenly, his eyes no longer closed, now set squarely on you as those sickenly perfect white teeth emerge with another sly smile.

Another wave of embarrassment pushes through your veins, but you can’t look away from him this time. Locked in a heated stare, mind racing, palms sweaty as you watch Andy dip his index finger into the bowl of icing, scooping the sugary mix onto the pad of his digit.

“You like watching me, huh?”

Your mouth parts to answer, but nothing comes out, mouth and throat suddenly dry. He laughs at you, standing there, dumb and nervous, unable to form a coherent sentence as he pushes the tip of his finger into his mouth, sucking the icing from it slowly.

He’s moving, that much your brain can comprehend. Moving around the island, sliding the bowl of icing right to the edge where he dips his finger again, curling it to collect another glob.

Shallow, shaky breaths escape the small part in your lips, your chest and stomach so tight you’re surprised you can breathe at all. As it is, you have to rest your palm against the marble island, just to keep from falling over.

A long arm slips around your waist, nudging you forward— closer— so close that when one of those shallow, little breaths pushes out, your chest, well, your tits, brush against his. You picked a fine day to go without a bra. He drops his free hand to your waist, pushing it underneath your oversized hoodie to feel your skin as he wraps those long fingers around your hip, giving it a squeeze before he cups your chin.

“You have a boyfriend back at that fancy ass school?” He asks, eyes hooded as he tilts your head upward.

A hum vibrates through your chest before there’s a quick shake of your head as he pushes the icing over your bottom lip, smearing the sugary mix along it. He keeps your chin anchored in his hand as he stares down at you through slits, his own mouth dropping open as he coaxes yours.

“No, a smart girl like you doesn’t have time for boys, does she?” He purrs, “You probably haven’t even been touched by a boy.”

A squeak chokes in your throat as he teases you, pushing that finger back and forth, the tip pushing ever so gently into your mouth. He chuckles again, real low, menacing almost as he knows he has you right where he wants you.

“Ya know,” he starts, thumbs stroking your chin and jaw, “This Christmas cookie frosting would taste a hundred times better on you than my finger.” He smiles again, tilting his head, “Can I see?”

You mewl, pitiful and small as emotion pools in your eyes. You’re overwhelmed— nervous and unsure, wanting to be perfect. Womanly— but surely falling flat.

“Oh, baby,” he laughs, sweeping his thumbs underneath your eyes to catch the hot streaks, “Awww, it’s okay.”

Andy pushes in close, his lips brushing yours as he nuzzles his nose into the crook of yours, a low sound thrumming in his throat. He presses his cheek against your face, the soft hair of his beard pushing along your skin, goosebumps popping up all over. Your bodies start to sway in a slow rhythm, side to side, his warm breath washing over you as he smiles.

He pulls away, eyes traveling your face, “You haven’t even been kissed before?” When you don’t answer, he closes his eyes, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth, “No? Oh, my sweet girl. That is just,” he groans, eyes twinkling with an emotion you don’t even understand, “You are so perfect— so good.”

His forehead comes to rest on yours, his hands still corralling your face, fingers sticky. His tongue darts out quick, licking at your lips, dragging up to the tip of your nose. You shudder, bleating as the rough velvet passes over your mouth.

Andy moans again, sucking the icing into his mouth and swallows slow, “Yum.”

You’re jittery— clammy, as labored breaths push out of your mouth, a murky fog clouding your brain. Shaky whirs tremble through your chest as you shift on your feet, your panties sticking to your now throbbing pussy. Andy closes the distance between your mouths again, his eyes hooded as he nips at you.

Your eyes flutter, closing instinctively— waiting for the claim. It doesn’t come, not right away, making your eyes pop open, a childish whine squeaking out. You even stomp your foot a little. Twenty years is a long enough wait.

“Kiss me,” you breathe, not wasting a second, “Please, Andy—”

The words are barely out of your mouth before he grabs your lips, inhaling deep. His tongue fucks into your mouth, slipping along the roof before massaging yours, sucking lightly. You go limp against him, trying to keep up with the fervent kiss, but soon just let him take full control.

Andy pushes his hips into yours, pressing his hard cock against you, forcing you to break the kiss, gasping deep. He rests his forehead on yours again, tittering as he bites his bottom lip, “Never felt that before, huh? Mmmm,” he groans again, “I bet you feel good. So tight and warm— umph, I’m probably not even going to be able to fit my cock all in.”

You shudder at the thought.

He brushes the tip of his nose against yours, “I gotta open you up a bit, don’t I? Hmm? This sweet little cunt needs to get used to being stuffed full.” He turns you in his hands, presses his burly chest into your back, his lips to your ear, “I want you to finish icing these cookies like a good girl, okay? You do as daddy says.”

You don’t move, you can’t really, as you try to comprehend what’s going on. It takes Andy pushing his crotch into your ass, grinding your hips against the island and literally grabbing your wrists, making your hands grab the butter knife and a cookie before your brain catches up. With shaky fingers, you push the knife through the icing and slather it on one of the small, round, golden brown cookies.

“Good girl,” he praises, pecking your cheek, nuzzling into the side of your face, “Daddy wants you to focus.”

He drags his warm palms up your forearms, stroking gently before they fall to your sides. They push up into your hoodie, fingertips glancing across sensitive, untouched skin. Small laughter vibrates through his chest as you jump and gasp, huffing and keening as he explores.

Little kisses are pressed to your temple and side of your face as his hands venture up your sides, curling around your rib cage until he’s grasping your bare tits in both hands, squeezing and kneading— hissing as he grinds his rigidly hard cock into your ass.

You freeze, body going stiff as nimble fingers play with your thick, piqued nipples. Warm lips nip at your neck as you push back into his hips, wiggling slowly, the thin cotton of your shorts not proving to be much of a barrier at all.

Andy reaches around, plucking the cookie out of your hand and pops it into his mouth just as his free hand skips down your stomach— right into your shorts. You jut your hips forward as his fingers plunge through your folds, massaging your clit slowly as he murmurs in your ear.

“That’s what I love about virgins. The slightest little touch gets you all worked up.” He pulls his hand from your shorts, holding it out for you to see your slick coating his fingers— a string connecting from his index finger to the middle. He brings his wet fingers to your lips, steel eyes peering at you as he waits, “Clean ‘em up.”

He slides his free hand back into your sweatshirt, pushing it up over your tits before he tweaks your left nipple, rolling it slow as he pushes the tips of his fingers into your mouth. Sweet, tiny little whines sound from you as you accept his long fingers into your mouth, starting to suck gently, the taste of your arousal exploding on your tongue.

“That’s right, just like that baby.” He reassures, slipping a hand back into your panties.

Your mouth goes slack around his fingers as he toys with you, rubbing your achy clit as your hips start to move with his rhythm. Resting your weight against his sturdy body, you moan loud, pushing out hard breaths, eyes slipping closed, head rolling on his shoulder as his wet fingers slip from your mouth back to your left nipple.

His fingers start to tease your slit, pushing gently, slowly, until… a sharp yelp fills the kitchen as two fingers stuff you full. Andy wraps his arm around your waist, holding you to him, cooing in your ear as he continues to push in, “You’re okay baby. I know, I know sweet girl, we’re almost there. Just a bit more.”

Tears sting your eyes as your face strains from the pressure and pain of being spread for the first time. Once his fingers have disappeared, the heel of his palm pressing against your folds and clit, he pulls your chin towards him and licks at your mouth, sucking air in between his teeth.

“I can’t wait to fuck this sweet pussy,” he kisses you quick and hard, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth before he releases you with a loud smack, “I love a virgin cunt. It’s been a while since I’ve had one.”

You squeak when his fingers start to move, slow, deep, a squelch sounding as his fingers push into your muscles. It hurts, but there’s a twinge of good, something inside of you being pleasured once you push past the pain. The sweet taste of pleasure doesn’t stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks as his fingers pick up a brisk pace.

Andy growls in your ear, the sound scratching at the back of his throat, kind of hollow and breathy as he grinds his cock into your ass, “You havent fucked yourself like this before? I didn’t think I’d hurt you this bad with just my fingers, baby.”

A hot, rough wetness slides along your cheek, his tongue, lapping at you. You grab onto his forearm, feeling his muscles tense and flex as he fingers your innocence, digging your nails into the thick Shetland wool sweater covering his torso. He pushes deep, suddenly, making you cry out again.

He grunts, snaking his hand up into your hoodie to take a firm hold of your tit. Resting his forehead to the back of your head, he quickens his fingers, his hot breath on the back of your neck, quick swipes of his tongue and lips against your hypersensitive skin— making the miniscule hairs on your body stand on end.

His palm presses against your clit with each shove of his fingers. Strapping, hard chest flattened to your back, loud, husky moans in your ear. His hips roll and push, writhe into yours as his fingers start to thrash. Teeth sink into your shoulder, his tongue sliding and sweeping.

“Andy—” you cry, whimpering like a child, “It hurts. I— I can’t,”

“Oh, sweetheart.” His fingers slow and then stop, pulling out of you to rub your clit, soothing the balmy flesh. He turns you around in his arms as you cry, lifting you right from your feet, “I’m sorry. Shh, shh, I’m sorry, baby.”

The instant warmth of his mammoth chest and arms soothe the tumultuous pangs of anxiety coursing through you. Nuzzling in, the softness of his beard helps ease your nerves as you wrap two jelly arms around his neck. Andy’s big hands push up and down your back as he murmurs sweet nothings. Stomach tight, heart fluttering, face hot and wet with tears— you’re properly overwhelmed and overstimulated, and Andy could just eat it all up.

“You are so pretty when you cry, you know that? You did so good, baby. You took my fingers so well.”

You huff, disappointed, pushing your face deeper into his neck, “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, don’t do that,” he whispers, “It’s okay to not be ready.” He sits you back on your feet, pulling and adjusting your sweatshirt back over your chest. He pecks your lips quick before cupping your face in his hands, “It’s gonna make our first time together so much better.”

He pushes in to kiss you again, but stops, just as his lips brush yours. You get up on your tiptoes, wanting to meet his mouth but he’s quick, pulling away and stealing another cookie as he takes a step back.

“Thanks for the cookies, sweetheart.”

And just like that, with a wink and a smile, he’s moving out of the kitchen, the front door slamming behind him.

It might as well be the middle of a Texas summer heatwave in your bedroom. Exasperated, you throw the covers away from your body, skin slick with sweat as you wipe at your forehead. You’ve been like this all day— hot and irritated, stomach and mind jumbled, unable to focus on much of anything but thoughts of depravity. Pissed off at yourself more than anything; that you couldn’t take it all.

You sit up in the dark room, a sliver of moonlight spilling in from behind the thin curtains over your window. Snow flakes float down from the sky, glimmering, basking in the soft, natural light of the moon. Thoughts of Andy return. Reddened, full lips on your face, his soft, velvety, pink tongue forging its own path in the uncharted territory that is your mouth. His hands, big and warm, pinching and grabbing, pushing in deep.

Every muscle in your body clenches; achy cunt squeezing around nothing.

A soft light illuminates from the nightstand, followed by a buzz, a random alert from your twitter. But then, oh but then— Andy’s words come floating back to you. Better yet, let me give you my number. The sleek iphone is in your hand within seconds, fingers sliding over the keyboard, shooting off a text.

You 1:15am

You up?

Andy B. 1:17am

What’s a smart girl like you doing up so late on Christmas Eve?

An influx of air fills your lungs as your heart leaps.

You 1:17am

I can’t sleep…

Andy B. 1:18am

Want me to help with that?

You won’t be getting much sleep tho…

You 1:18am

That’s what I’m hoping…

Andy B. 1:19am

LOL, okay smarty pants, come wait for Santa with me, front door’s open

You’re already halfway down the stairs by the time his invite slides across the screen. You shove your feet into your Ugg boots at the bottom of the staircase and grab your jacket from the coat rack, pushing into it as you throw open the front door. Crossing your arms over your chest, you jog down the steps of the porch and start for Andy’s, an instant chill rattling right down to your bones.

Footprints in the snow follow you as you cross the lawn, a light crunch sounding underneath your feet, adding to the whoosh of a breeze that rips through the sleepy street. Once you’re on Andy’s porch, you reach for the door, pushing through the threshold and closing it softly with a click.

The house is dark, and quiet, a tiny point of light coming from the kitchen and the random ticks of a clock somewhere deep. Your jacket hits the floor, ugg boots thump against the wall as you kick them off, hand slides along the banister as you climb the stairs slow. Wide eyes adjust to the dark as you pad slowly down the long hall, passing by one closed door, and then another until you reach one that’s slightly ajar. Light spills out of it, splashing over your bare toes as you step right up to it, fingertips pushing against the door.

You find Andy propped up against his headboard, chest bare, legs spread— hard, pink cock sticking out of his boxers, gripped tight in his hand. He flips his eyes to yours as he strokes himself slow, pushing his hips into it, groaning at the sight of you.

The air in your body— the room— is sucked right out as you lock eyes. With a blink, your greedy eyes are on the move, down his hair smattered chest and chiseled stomach, over the dark blue boxer briefs, down his meaty thighs and toned calves, right to his curled toes and back up again.

You have to bite your lip to keep quiet.

“I’ve been,” the words out of his mouth come to a halt being replaced by a low grunt as he squeezes his cock, precum dribbling out of his slit, “Shit sweetheart, I’ve been thinking about you all day. Haven’t been able to cum since you left me all worked up.”

You bleat softly, blinking wild and nervous as you watch his hand slide up and down, palm and fingers sweeping over his mushroom head to collect the droplets of his arousal to push it down his shaft.

“Well, come on. Come touch me.”

It’s a good thing your feet aren’t as stupid as your brain, or else you’d still be standing in place. Before you can get your mind to catch up, you're pulling yourself towards the edge of the bed, falling forward, catching yourself with your hands. Crawling between his legs, your tank top hangs low, Andy’s eyes peering down your cleavage before you sit on your knees— hands trembling.

He reaches for you, grabbing your wrist gently, pulling your hand towards his towering cock. Guiding you slow, he wraps your hand around him, his hips jerking soft at the warmth of your palm and pushes your hand down to his base, before dragging it up to the tip. He helps you for a few more strokes, twisting your hand around him, guiding your fingers up over his cock head and then back down, squeezing your hand to apply a gentle pressure.

“That’s right, baby—ah—” he hisses, jutting his hips up into your hand, “Shit.”

You continue to pump him after his hand falls away, relishing in the small noises that sound from him— sending your heart soaring. His hips pulse into your hand, eyes fluttering as more cum bubbles out, slipping and sliding over your fingers. Andy reaches for the lamp on the nightstand, turning it out, covering the room in darkness except for the moon.

He’s beautiful like this. Chest tight and shuddering with each breath, dark eyelashes splayed over fair skin, a chorus of sweet, small little whines and praise pouring from him. A soft pink blush unfurling over his broad chest, creeping up his neck.

“Fuck baby,” breathless and strained, “You’re a fuckin’ pro already. My smart little girl.” You suck your bottom lip into your mouth but still can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners, “Oh, you like that?” Andy smiles lazily, “You like being my smart little girl?”

Hot lips are on yours before you can even form your mouth to answer. Flipped onto your back, strong hips digging into yours, his cock pushing against your covered clit and slit as he kisses you hard. It takes your breath away.

You’d always thought you’d be awkward, stiff and unknowing, once you finally reached this moment— nothing but teeth and elbows and knees in all the wrong places— but, there’s a natural instinct coming into play. You’re lost, but somehow intricately aware. Fingers creep up his biceps and curl around his shoulder blades, digging in as your hips push back into his. Mouth leans into the feverish kisses, tongue sliding with his.

Colossal hands push into your shorts, pushing them down before his feet knock them off the rest of the way. Your top is rucked up, up over your breasts, exposing more brown skin, two soft, jiggling mounds, two piqued nipples soon sucked into a warm, wet mouth. A long middle finger toys with your clit, rubbing circles before more fingers join, slipping through slick and skin as they play.

“Tell me,” hot, whispered words sting in your ear, “Tell me you like being my smart girl.”

Hips dig into yours once more, hard cock pushing against your sensitive nub, then pressing at your opening. You grab the back of his neck, moaning hard and loud as electricity bounces through your veins, “Andy—” you squeak, “I like—”

A sharp cry breaks through the words as Andy pushes hard, spearing you for the very first time. Pressure and pain courses through you, body going tight and stiff as he sinks deeper and deeper, large palms on your cheeks, forehead to yours, warm breaths and ragged, choked grunts washing over your face.

Hard kisses— one, two, three— on your lips as he holds your face, his eyes closed, mouth hanging as he sinks, sinks, sinks until you’ve taken him all. Your head is empty. Devoid of any real, coherent thoughts, unable to focus on any one thing; well, nothing other than the fullness.

“Tell me you like being my smart girl.” Andy rasps, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to keep himself together. He shifts, hips pulling away from yours, cock dragging out, “Come on baby, tell me you like it.”

Andy pushes his hips, pushes back into you, but real gentle and smooth, knowing you’re teetering— overwhelmed in more ways than one, a feeling that can turn south on a dime. So, he keeps his hands on your face, thumbs rubbing soft circles. He opens his eyes, giving you something to focus on as he moves gently— so, so gently. Keeping you present.

“Use those words, sweet girl. Talk to me.”

Water fills your eyes as you grip, nails biting into the meat of his sides as he fucks you slow and sweet. Heat burns through you, tiny sounds, choked sobs scratch at the back of your throat, but it’s good— feels so good. Your legs push up and around his waist, hands start to snake up his sinewy back, feeling the muscles flex and tighten as he makes you a woman— makes you his.

Safe. Warm. Cocooned between his heavy body and the light mattress. Hips rolling, pushing and pulling. Hot breath over hot skin. Quick, jumbled words, thick and ripe with a heady lust. You like being his smart girl. Gripping fingers, around your face, your wrists, your tits, hips, thighs, ankles— everywhere you could possibly imagine.

Andy flips you over suddenly, his back now pressed into the mattress as you lay on top of him. He positions you right where he wants you— sitting you up straight, positioning your hands against his brawny chest. He encases your waist with those massive hands, squeezing tight before the pads of his fingers drag along your thighs as you wiggle, getting used to the new position.

“Push up— that’s right, sweetheart,” he sighs softly as you follow his direction, “Now sit back down— slowly, baby, go slow.” His head falls back on the pillows as he exhales, a groan trembling through his chest, “God, yeah babe. Good girl. Up and down, up and down.”

Your fingers push through the tuft of soft, dark hair covering his chest as you ride him, lifting and sitting, rolling and bucking as you get a hang of it— catch a feel— your clit rubbing against his taut skin. You feel Andy trying to keep his composure, feel him trying to restrain himself, his hips. Watch his eyes flutter and close as his mouth goes slack again as he pushes up into you, meeting your increasingly greedy thrusts downward.

“I’m your smart girl,” you whisper, heart beating hard and fast in your chest as your confidence grows, “I’ve always wanted to be your smart girl.”

He jams up into you, much harder than anything you’ve felt so far.

A sharp yelp cracks into the silence and he grabs your wrists, runs his hands up your arms, before he cups your face, “Shhh, shhh, shhh, I’m sorry baby. I didn’t know it was gonna sound so sweet,” he laughs, “God, I fucking love hearing you say that.”

He drops a hand back to your chest, grabbing a handful of your tit, toying with your nipple, pinching and pulling. His other hand wraps around your hip again, helping to pull you forward, as he thrusts soft. You don’t move; you just let him fuck up into you, grab his hands and thread your fingers with his as you bounce.

Thrusts get faster; hips hurried, jabbing. Wet rasps fill the room, octaves soaring. You fall forward a little, unclasping his hands to catch yourself against his chest. Andy’s hands are back around your waist and hips as you fuck down onto him, chasing that little, dull ache in the pit of your stomach that grows with each push of his hips.

Andy has two full handfuls of your ass, growling loud, hips faltering— losing control as he forces you down on him. You take each hard thrust, tears spilling down your cheeks, pleasure and pain all wrapped up into one. Sweat and heat crawls along your skin, stomach goes tight, throat dries. You dig your fingers into his chest as your toes curl, whimpering and crying out, choking as the pressure builds.

You tighten— freeze quick, gasp hard as a white hot orgasm floods your veins, like a molten lava, oozing, spreading. Flattening yourself to Andy’s chest, you let him wrap his arms around your back and hold you tight as he fucks you through it. The meat of his thighs slapping against yours, your cunt sounding wet and filthy, squelching and convulsing as you come.

There’s another heat, quick and dense, filling you as Andy’s grunts grow deeper. His grip on your ass tightens as he spurts— your used cunt coaxing long, hot ribbons of white silk from his sensitive, red cock head. He falls out of you, dick wet and hard, pushing through your ass cheeks as his hips still churn out of habit and inherent instinct.

Hands are on your head, fingers wiping at your face and forehead, pushing hair away. You’re embarrassed— not sure why— and nuzzle into his neck, hiding your face as you tuck your hands into your chest protectively. Another laugh sounds from him, vibrates through you, as he kisses your forehead and rubs his bearded cheek against your face.

“You’re a sweet girl,” honeyed, his voice, smooth and sweet, slow drags of his hands up and down your back lulling you, calming you, suddenly nervous, “My sweet, smart little baby. You okay?” you nod, but it isn’t good enough, “Tell me.”

“I’m okay.” You sniffle, eyelashes clumped, cheeks wet, lips swollen and red.

You nuzzle into him more, taking a deep breath as you listen to his heartbeat. Another silence fills the room, Andy’s breaths soon turn deep, slow and rhythmic, his hands and fingers coming to a slow stop but still splayed out over your back. A quick press of your lips against his neck makes him shift, but doesn’t wake him. You press another on his chin before you settle down into him once more, watching as snow starts to fall again.

There’s a Christmas present sitting at the edge of the bed when you wake the next morning, your name scrawled out on the name tag. You tear into it, pulling out a small white box, the name LELO embossed over the top. Eyebrows firmly furrowed, you turn it over in your hand, mouth falling open as you read the description and eye the two twenty karat gold Ben Wa beads.

Andy appears in the doorway, a steaming cup in his hand, a smile on his face, “Merry Christmas. Santa came for you, huh?”

“Merry Christmas,” you glance away, “I don’t have anything for you.”

“That’s okay,” he shrugs, “I was a bit presumptuous after our little rendezvous in the kitchen— ordered those from Amazon yesterday.” He pads towards you, leaning down to kiss you quick before he hands you the hot mug, “Are you okay?”

A nervous giggle escapes through your lips, your head falling as you cover your mouth with your hand, “Mmhmm.”

Andy tips your head back upwards, pushing his index finger underneath your chin, smiling again before he kisses you all sweet and soft and slow, making you go all stupid and gooey again.

“What are these for?” You ask after he pulls away a few moments later.

His eyes twinkle in the sunlight as he winks, “Training. Now, lay back and spread your legs for daddy, little one.”

[doll-in-the-walls]

Wherever, Whenever You Need Me (M!Any x F!Reader)

[This was originally going to be a Billy oneshot but it became a choose who you want fic from Steve, Eddie, and Billy. Since Billy is tagged this shouldn’t show up to people who don’t like him anyway so I went with a Billy gif. Three would’ve taken up too much space]

Summary: She wasn’t answering the phone and he was getting worried. - Just a comfort fic, taking care of a reader going through a depressive episode. Sometimes there’s no reason for the big sad… it just happens.

Notes: Reader has hair, smaller than him, she/her pronouns. No names or descriptions whatsoever for either character.

Warnings: Non-sexual nudity but nothing described. Angst with happy ending, hurt/comfort, (the opening bit might make you worry and think it’s gonna end up being something it’s not. I promise it’s not what you think if you do think that. I would’ve put a warning.)

A/N: So I wrote this initially without any names or descriptions for the guy, it was intended to be a Billy fic… and I realized it works as a pick your own guy kinda fic. So this could be about any of the three you want. Eddie, Billy, or Steve (Cause I don’t think it would fit Jonathan and I don’t write for him anyway). (I mean it could also be about ANY other guy because there’s nothing that even links this with the ST universe mentioned other than no cell-phones.) And yeah this is gonna be OOC for Billy if you read it with him in mind, but that’s because I don’t write about canon Billy. Don’t Like, Don’t Read.

Words: 1477

She hadn’t answered his phone call that morning nor had she returned the call after he left a message about being free for the rest of the day. He had tried again about an hour later, giving her the benefit of the doubt that maybe she was busy or in the shower, but still no answer. He knew she was home alone for the weekend, there was no one else in the house to answer the phone, so unless she had left the house she would have heard the phone. They had agreed the day before that they were going to hang out over the weekend since she wasn’t comfortable being by herself; he knew she would have called if she didn’t want him to come over. 

Around noon, he pulled up to her house and saw her car in the driveway, confirming that she was home. When she didn’t come to the door after the fifth knock he used his key she had given him to let himself in. 

“Babe?” he called out. He could hear the sound of the shower running above him and, after kicking off his shoes, headed up to the bathroom. “Babe?” He knocked on the door softly. “I tried calling,” he called through the door. “Twice,” he added under his breath. There was no response so he knocked a little louder and called her name. “Baby, you don’t answer in two seconds I’m coming in.” When there was still no response he pushed open the door and stepped in. “Hey,” he started but the sound of harsh sniffling made him stop. 

It had been impossible to hear through the door over the sound of the running water, but now that he was in the room he could hear her small whimpers and sharp breaths. He could only see her back, as she sat at one end of the tub, through a space between the curtain and the wall. 

“Hey, hey..” he started softly as he moved closer, crouching beside her, but making no move to pull the curtain open, “Are you alright? What happened?”

“Nothing…” her voice was a hoarse whisper and it only made his concern grow.

“Bullshit. Are you hurt? Did something happen?” She didn’t respond. “Can I move this?” He raised a hand to the curtain. “Just a bit. I’ll only look at your face, I swear.” Usually this would’ve been said with some hint of playfulness or in a flirty way, but his tone was completely serious. Her hand came up, under his, to pull the curtain over a bit. She didn’t turn to look at him, but he could see her eyes, red and puffy, as she held her knees to her chest. “Can I turn off the water?” he asked. “I’m sure you can’t be too comfortable in there.” She shook her head and opened her mouth but no words came out. He saw the bottle of shampoo laying in front of her and nodded before he moved to kneel beside the tub. She looked over as he pulled his shirt over his head. 

“Wh-...?”

“Don’t wanna get my shirt wet,” he said as he reached in and picked up the bottle. “Lean forward for me?” he asked gently. She moved forward and her head was fully under the stream. Once her hair was properly saturated she leaned back. 

“Y-You don’t have to-”

“I know I don’t have to,” he interrupted, “I want to.” He began lathering the soap into her hair gently. “You don’t have to say anything. You can keep crying if you need to.” Her shoulders shook as she let out a shaky half sob half laugh. “So… you can just shake your head, yes or no; did something happen?” She shook her head. “Is.. there a reason?” She shook her head no again, her head turning away from him slightly. “Alright.” He wanted to ask her if this was the first time, but he could see her closing herself off.

The two were silent as he finished sudsing her hair before having her lean forward again to rinse. Once all the soap was washed away he grabbed a nearby washcloth and bar of soap. She hugged her legs tighter to her chest as he started on her back.

“I’m sor-”

“You finish that sentence… and I’m getting in there with you. Pants and all.” After a second she turned her head to look at him, her brow furrowed in confusion.

“That… doesn’t really sound like a threat,” she said before sniffling. 

“Well, it’s all I got to work with,” he said with a slightly sheepish look. “Got you to look at me though, didn’t it?” He used his soap free hand to gently cup the side of her face, using his thumb to gently rub under her eye. “You know I’m always just a phone call away. Wherever, whenever you need me.”

“I…I don’t even know why I’m-… I didn’t wanna bother you.”

“Hey,” he gently stopped her, “you don’t need to explain. I don’t need you to even give me a reason. You want me to come over and I will, no questions asked. And if you don’t want me to come over I can just stay on the phone with you. You don’t even need to talk. Whatever you need, baby. I’m here.” Her eyes started to tear up again.

…

He grabbed the towel that was on the counter and unfolded it.

“I won’t look,” he said as he held it out to her, his head turned.

“It’s fine…” she said as she took it. With the towel wrapped around her, she sat on the edge of the bath. He grabbed his shirt and pulled it back on as he turned to her.

“Now, I promise not to snoop, I’m gonna go get you some clothes. Okay?” She nodded. “Alright, I’ll be right back,” he said, giving her a kiss on the forehead before leaving the bathroom. A few moments later he came back with a handful of clothes. “Grabbed the first pair I saw, I swear.” He gently placed the bundle of clothes on the counter. “Want me to help you?” She shook her head. “Alright, I’ll wait outside.”

“C-Can-?”

“Or I can wait right here,” he said and smiled softly when she nodded. She slowly got dressed and he gently took the towel which he then used to dry her hair for her. “Bed? Couch?”

“Bed. Please.”

“You got it, doll,” he said and grinned at the squeak she let out when he picked her up in his arms.

“Hey!” she protested, but he could see the smile he loved so much. He started to carry her down the hall to her room but stopped.

“Hey, you eat today?” he asked. 

“Kinda…” He raised an eyebrow.

“Define kinda.”

“I… had some eggos.”

“Alright… I’m shit in the kitchen; you got anything simple I can make you?”

“You don’t need to-”

“Babe. Haven’t we already had this conversation?” he asked, giving her a look with an over exaggerated pout that pulled a smile to her face.

“Okay. Couch?”

“Alright, just a sec.” He brought her into her room and put her down on the bed. He grabbed a stuffed rabbit that was next to her pillow and tossed it onto her lap. Before she could question him he was pulling the blanket around her and lifting her up again. “Okay, one bunny and babe burrito, check!” He started down the hall, grinning as she giggled quietly. 

…

He placed her down on the couch, which was in view of the kitchen, allowing her to watch as he looked around in the fridge. After a few minutes of him opening the fridge, closing it, moving to a cabinet and repeating the process several times he finally turned to her with a sheepish look.

“Pizza?”’

“Pizza sounds great,” she said with a nod. He grinned and grabbed the phone off the wall, moving to the fridge where a number was held up with a flower magnet. 

After placing the order he sat down on the couch and pulled her, blanket and all, onto his lap. He secured his arms around her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. 

“You… you know I love you, right?” he asked. “And I’m not just saying that so I can see that beautiful smile of yours,” he added quickly as he nuzzled his nose against her cheek. “I really mean it.” He kissed her on the nose and smiled as a smile came to her face.

“I know,” she said with a nod and snuggled into him. “I love you too.” 

“Good,” he said. “That you know, I mean.” He pulled her closer. “I don’t want you to forget that, okay? I’ll always be here for you, wherever, whenever you need me.”

A/N: Yeah I know the title was said twice, but I felt it was the perfect line to end on. Hope this worked as a pick your own guy fic with me not using any name for the guy. Let me know what you think.

Past two days depression has just hit harder for no reason and I wished this would've happened to me today.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Fell For You (Part 1) - The Nanny

Summary: The reader interviews for a new live-in nanny position with Jensen and quickly gets the job but she starts to slowly see that her new employer is going to be different than any other she’s had before...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Square: Slow Burn

Word Count: 4,800ish

Warnings: language, mention of death of a spouse/death of a parent

A/N: Please enjoy the first part of this series! This was also written for @supernatural-jackles​ Tell Me A Story Bingo!

________

If someone had said you’d be celebrating your 30th birthday by accepting an interview to be a live in nanny when you were a kid, you would have told them they were nuts. Beyond nuts. Beyond help for that matter.

But there you were. Thirty. Single. Childless. Taking care of other people’s families and not doing much else with your life. You weren’t sure if your mom would have been on you about the no kids thing or the no boyfriend thing more to be honest.

But the pay was normally good and sometimes great and it gave you a taste of family, even if you were just the help to the adults most of the time.

You buzzed the button by the gate at the end of the driveway, a brief moment passing before it opened. It was probably on a timer like most of the people you’d worked for before, an alarm system kicking on at some point in the evening that required a buzz in, the code or a car sensor. You drove down the driveway and parked a little behind a black SUV. The house was a little modern, a little grand, a little overwhelming. A fence and lots of trees surrounded the property. The yard appeared large but you could see houses on either side. Private but suburban. 

The cadillac wasn’t a shocker. Most everyone in these neighborhoods had Escalades. You walked past an open garage on the way up, a muscle car and a more modest smaller SUV parked inside. You went up the very short path and stepped up, ringing the doorbell and fixing your shirt. You were in jeans and a plain gray shirt. It was your normal wear for chasing small children around all day and you weren’t a fan of uniforms.

“Hi,” said a very tired, very handsome man as he opened the door. “You must be from Nanny Core.”

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N from Home Pair,” you said with a smile. He shut his eyes and leaned his head against the door. 

“The last girl was from Nanny Core,” he said. He blinked them open and shook his head. “I’m so sorry. Yes, Y/N. You’re the one that’s a consultant, not firmly associated with Home Pair, right?”

“Correct,” you said as he opened the door more and you stepped inside.

“Can I ask what the distinction is?”

“Mostly it has to do with benefits,” you said. “Consultants pay out of pocket for their own or negotiate with their client for those to be covered.”

“Gotcha,” he yawned. You looked ahead and he wiped his hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I must seem like an ass.”

“You seem tired is all Mr. Ackles. Not a crime,” you said with a smile. He nodded and he returned it, no fake cheesiness to it. 

“Mind if we do the interview in the kitchen over a cup of coffee?” he asked.

“Wherever you like, sir,” you said. You took off your shoes when you noticed he didn’t wear any inside and he chuckled as you walked back farther into the house.

“Uh, for the record, call me Jensen. None of that sir stuff. They must teach that at nanny school or something huh?” he said, motioning to a table. “I noticed all of you do it.”

“Something like that,” you said. You took a seat and watched him go to a coffee machine, fumbling with it before he spilled some ground coffee on the counter. He shut his eyes and gripped the counter’s edge, taking a deep breath to himself. “How about I make the coffee and you take a seat, hm?”

“I’m okay,” he said as he opened his eyes. 

“Well making you coffee is probably going to come up in my job quite a bit so consider this part of the interview. It’s alright, really,” you said. He glanced over to you and you smiled. 

“Thank you,” he said. You swapped places with him and got him a cup going, taking a mug off the counter and waiting a beat before liquid started pouring out. “I’m gonna ask you the same question I’ve asked all seven other women I’ve talked to today.”

“Yes?”

“Why should I trust you to watch my children?”

“Honestly?” you asked as he nodded. You smiled and carried the cup over to him, Jensen taking a long sip. “You shouldn’t.”

“I shouldn’t. That seems counterproductive.”

“I wouldn’t trust any stranger with my child. Trust is earned, not given. I think the real question is do you believe I’m capable of earning that trust with you and that’s something intrinsically only you know.”

“How so?”

“You meet a lot of different kinds of people with this job. My gut reaction to you is stressed, overwhelmed, sleep-deprived father who doesn’t really want any nanny at all but is forced into this situation. It’s going to be impossible for you to trust any of the seven woman from earlier or me off the bat, Jensen. You should be thinking of who will you come to trust. Who can you count on.”

“This is why my wife should have been the one doing this,” he said, smiling to himself as he drunk down most of the hot liquid.

“We could always re-schedule for when she’s available.”

“Oh, we’d have to wait a very long time for that,” he chuckled. He sat the mug down and glanced down briefly, smiling as he looked up. “She passed away unexpectedly six months ago. Car accident.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you said. He nodded and made a face like he wanted to make a comment. “My mom died kinda unexpectedly. I know it’s...harder.”

“You’re young. How old?”

“Turned thirty today,” you said. He laughed and you heard the life behind it, Jensen shaking his head.

“Well Happy Birthday. I meant with your mother though. If that’s okay with you I mean.”

“It’s fine. I was sixteen,” you said. 

“That...fucking sucks doesn’t it?”

“So does losing your wife,” you said. 

“Yes it does. I’ve grieved. We all have. The kids are small. They’ll be okay.”

“Is dad okay?” you asked.

“Yes. Ready to start moving on with life again,” he said with a soft smile. “You’re kind. Not in a I’m trying to get this job kind of way. Just kind.”

“Well being cruel doesn’t sound like very much fun,” you said.

“You’re not trying to impress me.”

“The first rule of nannying, Jensen. You think you’re interviewing us when in reality we’re interviewing you too.”

“How am I doing so far?”

“Nice coffee choice,” you said with a smile that he nodded at. “You respect people. You’ll employ me but won’t treat me like I’m second class. You’re checking the boxes so far.”

“What if I don’t check all the boxes?”

“You don’t get to know the luxury of knowing the answer yet, Mr. Ackles,” you said. “Interview isn’t over.”

“You got fucked over by somebody, didn’t you.”

“Also perceptive,” you said. “Like I said, I don’t tolerate being treated unkindly anymore. It’s why I left my last position.”

“I have one more question,” he said. “Would you treat my children like they’re your own?”

“Again, asking the wrong question,” you said. He sat back and crossed his arms, smirking at you.

“What exactly should I be asking?”

“Will you treat my children kindly and with respect but take charge when required?”

“What’s the difference?”

“One is me doing my job and the other is me doing yours.”

“How old did you say you were again?”

“Thirty today.”

“Right. Well I think I know where I stand. Do you have anything for me?”

“Can you show me a picture of your kids?” you asked. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. “You answered my question.”

“I didn’t show you anything yet.”

“You’d be surprised how many fathers I’ve met don’t carry pictures of their children in their wallets. That one is just a me thing.”

“Your dad do that?” he asked as he tucked it away.

“Maybe,” you said with a shrug. He was polite enough to not go down that route though and this was already getting more personal than you anticipated. “I think I know where I stand as well.”

“I’d like to hire you,” he said.

“Assuming our negotiations go well, I accept,” you said. He held out his hand over the table and you shook it.

“I did come up with what I thought was fair for salary and benefits. Let me go grab the paperwork and hopefully settle on something,” he said. He excused himself and you looked around the house, already trying to familiarize yourself with things. He was more relaxed when he returned with some papers and a notebook, handing you a few sheets. “If I’m missing anything let me know. I-”

“This is my weekly rate?” you asked when you saw the number at the top of the page.

“Oh no. That’s your daily,” he said as he took a seat. “So I think that’s-”

“Jensen,” you said, pushing the paper back. “I have to ask, things like insurance, are those coming out of your pocket or mine?”

“I’ll cover the expenses of your health, dental, all of that. You just choose and I’ll subsize it as part of your paycheck,” he said. 

“This is for a live in position. Um...can you just...explain what makes up that daily rate number?” you asked.

“It’s simply your base pay. Obviously I pay for housing, utilities, gas obviously. I will get you a credit card to make purchases with for the kids and all of that so it’s simple to keep track of. You’re free to any of the food in the kitchen. I’m guessing the salary is the sticking point here.”

“Jensen,” you said as you scratched your head. 

“I can go up fifty more dollars a day.”

“Jensen. This is way, way too much money. Way too much,” you said. “The average rate around here is about twenty five an hour or two hundred a day. Jensen this is double that. Are you factoring in like time and a half for additional nights and weekends?”

“No. That’d be on top of that. I thought that was a fair value based on the fact you are going to be taking care of the most valuable things in my life. It’s gonna get taxed too so it’s not like you see all of it.”

“You’re sweet, Jensen,” you said, writing down a number at the top of the page. “The average in Austin is twenty five an hour. I would be very happy with that.”

“You have to literally be the first person in existence to negotiate their salary down from the offer,” he said.

“Are you rejecting my offer?” you asked. He took the paper and crossed your number out, jotting down his own and spinning it back. “Jensen.”

“Y/N,” he said, crossing his arms. “I came down. Now it’s your turn. Do you accept?”

You knew thirty five was still way overpriced for the job, especially considering everything else he was paying for.

“I will accept on the condition that you get four hours of what we’d call evening or weekend at the normal rate ever week.”

“I can agree to that,” he said with a smile, writing that down. “So medical plan. Single, plus one, family?”

“Single for all that,” you said. 

“I should mention that there is an in-law suite off to the other side of the garage where you’ll be staying. It’s just down the hall but it has its own small living area and kitchenette. There is a separate entrance to it. If you have guests over I just ask you keep them to your area of the house,” he said.

“Absolutely. I don’t tend to bring people over much anyways while I’m on the job,” you said. He let you read over the rest of the benefits, a good amount of sick and vacation time too. Technically you were free evenings and weekends but he could ask you to work longer if he needed you and you were available. Overall everything seemed in order. “Alright. Everything looks good to me.”

“Awesome. Are you available to start Monday?” he asked.

“Sure,” you said. “It gives me plenty of time to move in things tomorrow so I can jump into the kids routine first thing Monday.”

“Perfect,” he said. “I’ll show you around. We can start with your side of the house.” You got up and followed him over to near the front door and down a long hallway, past a set of doors. There was a frosted glass one to your left just before he pushed open a wide white one.

Behind it was a living area and kitchen. Not huge, about the size of a small apartment. There was a TV and sectional, a table tucked against the wall and a kitchenette like he’d mentioned with full size appliances. 

“Like I said, I know it’s small. Please like, seriously watch TV out in the family room at night if you want or hang out wherever or the yard or pool. This is just your own space when you want to be away from us.” You hummed and he showed you a closet and then a bedroom and bathroom. It was simple but decorated nicely and looked relaxing. “If there’s something obvious I’m missing please let me know. A cleaning service does come by every two weeks on Tuesdays at around ten in the morning. They’ll do in here too. Otherwise you can keep after yourself. Cleaning stuff is in the laundry room. Oh yeah. Um, this is probably the last time I’ll like, ever come in here unless you need help moving things in since this will be your space.”

“Thanks. I don’t have too much. I do have one request before we sign all the paperwork.”

“What’s that?”

“I’d like to meet the kids if that’s alright. There’s not much point in hiring me if they hate me.”

“Fair point. We’ll get ‘em over here and then get you all squared away.”

Monday Morning

“Good morning,” you said, a cup of coffee in your hand already as Jensen yawned. 

“Morning,” he mumbled. His hair was a mess and he was in only a pair of boxer briefs before he paused and looked down. “I should probably put on some clothes.”

“This is your house. Wear whatever you normally would. Pretend I’m invisible,” you said as you poured a cup of coffee into a mug for him.

“Sounds like you worked for some real assholes,” he said, graciously taking the cup. “As long as it doesn’t bother you, me walking around in my undies.”

“No, not at all,” you said with a smile. “Would you like me to drop the kids off at school and daycare this morning?”

“Sure,” he said. “Car keys are on the table by the garage.”

“Okay great. I’m used to driving that kind of SUV,” you said. You snuck a look at your schedule you’d printed out again, knowing the twins would get need to get picked up around noon. You started to work on their lunches and snacks for the day while he took out the carton of eggs from the fridge. He cracked one into a pan and turned the heat on, yawning again as he got out some bread and threw it on a plate. “Would you like me to make lunch for you as well?”

“No thank you. I’m getting lunch with my manager today. You don’t have to make me coffee in the morning either, Y/N. Your job is to take care of the kids, not me,” he said.

“A cup of coffee is not difficult, Jensen. My job is to help you so if I can make dad’s life a smidge easier it’ll make theirs better too,” you said with a smile.

“You’re not like, a morning person are you,” he chuckled. “I don’t do peppy in the morning.”

“Oh no. I’m always a little nervous when I start a new job. I’ll get a rhythm down soon,” you said.

“So what do you normally do once the kids are dropped off?” he asked as he got out a spatula.

“On a weekday I’ll review their schedule, see if anything different is going on. An average day like today I will clean their rooms, their bathroom, do some laundry while they’re at school, maybe some shopping. I’ll pick up the twins, bring them home for lunch, a little playtime, a nap. We’ll have some quiet time and maybe a craft or coloring before we get JJ from school. Then I’ll give them all a snack, we can get outside and play to get some energy out. I’ll help JJ with any schoolwork she has while the twins play and then I will start on dinner about the time you’ll be getting home. Since you have no plans currently tonight I’ll leave you guys be at that point until tomorrow unless you ask me for help.”

“So when do you take a break?” he asked.

“Naptime. I’ll have lunch with the twins. Don’t worry about me Jensen. That’s my normal plan but if you would like me to run some errands in the morning I can,” you said.

“No, no. Just…” he trailed off. “I still want to make them breakfast and dinner and play with them too is all.”

“We’ll figure out the right mix of things,” you said. “You just gotta tell me is all, okay? It can vary day to day too,”

“Yeah,” he said, taking his fried egg out of the pan and placing it on one piece of bread. He made a sandwich and took a big bite, looking out the back window. “I never asked. How was your birthday?”

“Hm?” you hummed, dropping some carrots into a reusable bag.

“On Saturday you said it was your 30th. You do anything fun that night?” he asked with a soft smile.

“I got a new job. That was the highlight of my day,” you said, Jensen cocking his head. “I ordered pizza, binged netflix. My normal Saturday routine.”

“I know everybody jokes about 30 but it’s really just jokes. Wait until you’re 42,” he chuckled. “Then you really feel old.”

“Most 42 year olds would kill to look like you,” you said. You shut your eyes and shook your head. “I’m so sorry. That was so inappropriate.”

“It’s alright. I took it as a compliment,” he said, smiling again. “So you did nothing for your birthday, huh?”

“Uh, no,” you said, mixing in some grapes into each of the snack bags.

“I’m gonna get you a birthday cake,” he said.

“Mr. Ackles-”

“I thought I said it’s Jensen. I’m the boss so what I say goes. We’re gonna have a birthday cake for you tonight. So. What’s your favorite flavor?”

“Whatever you want is perfectly fine.”

“Y/N.”

“...I like red velvet,” you said. He smiled and chuckled. 

“That was my wife’s favorite,” he said. “Haven’t had that since her birthday. She would have liked you.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. You’re quite kind to me. She was always protective of me, even if she was the scaredy cat most of the time.”

“Can I ask how…” you said as he took another bite.

“Accident. Tractor trailer versus her car. He tried to miss her but it was too late. I wanted to hate the guy too but it was an accident and I couldn’t blame him for that.”

“My father died in a car crash when I was six. It does get better with time,” you said.

“That’s why you didn’t know if he had a picture of you in his wallet or not,” he said as you nodded. “You’re too young to have that much tragedy in life.”

“So are you.”

“I’m not young anymore.”

“You’re young and overly generous,” you said with a smile. 

“Misery loves company,” he said as you both heard a few feet above you running around. “Munchkins are up.”

“You want to make breakfast or should I?” you asked.

“Give me five minutes to get them in some clean clothes. Then I can show you how they like their eggs.”

“Sounds like a plan, Jensen.”

Later That Evening

“Y/N?” said Jensen, knocking on the door to your room. You got up from the couch and answered it, Jensen standing there with a smile. “The kids and I were wondering if you’d like your birthday cake for dessert.”

“You actually got me a cake?”

“I did indeed,” he said. You followed him down the hall and back into the living space, Arrow running up to you.

“Y/N! Are you sleeping over?” she asked as she gave you a hug.

“I live just down the hall now, cutie,” you said.

“Daddy, can we have ice cream too?” asked Zeppelin as he climbed up into his chair at the table.

“Sure thing bud. Girls, would you like some too?” he asked. Both the little ones said yes as he looked back at you.

“I really shouldn’t,” you said.

“We eat ice cream in this house,” he said.

“You don’t have to twist my arm over it,” you said. He got out the container and set it down on the table by the cake, lighting the match on the candle on top. “Oh please don’t-”

He started to sing though and the kids joined in, Jensen having a really good voice actually. You blew out the candle when they were through and he dished up some dessert for everyone.

“Y/N, can you read me a bedtime story later?” asked Zeppelin and you glanced at his father, Jensen making a face.

“Well Y/N’s not at work right now so she doesn’t have to unless she wants to,” said Jensen. “We’re already cutting into her-”

“I would love to, Zepp,” you said, his little face lighting up. “Maybe you guys want to join us?”

“JJ’s a little big to get read to at night I’ve been told,” said Jensen.

“Am not,” she said. “I can get a story too, right?”

“Of course,” you said. You took a bite of the cake and hummed. “This is really good.”

“I bought it myself,” said Jensen. 

“Well you have good taste,” you said. “In fact, I’m gonna have another slice.”

“Good,” he said as Zeppelin grabbed the ice cream container. “Alright, alright. You can have a bit more, bud.”

“Night, JJ,” you said, getting a hug from her as you put her back to bed an hour later. JJ smiled from her bed and you flicked off the light, pulling the door shut after you turned on her night light.

“Thanks for giving up your night with them. I didn’t mean to have that happen,” said Jensen as you headed downstairs with him.

“It’s no problem. It’s good bonding for us,” you said. You helped him pick up the plates at the table and wash them off, Jensen grabbing a bottle of whiskey from a tall cabinet as you covered up what was left of the cake. 

“Drink?” he asked.

“A small one,” you said. He poured a single into a whiskey glass and slid it over to you, smirking when you took a sip. “Oh that’s smooth.”

“Very,” he said, drinking from his own glass. “Thank you for tonight. JJ’s been…”

“She’s the oldest. She’s gonna have a harder time with it.”

“You were about her age when your dad died you said?”

“She’ll be okay. She’ll miss her but it won’t be a deep pain. She’ll have nice memories of her mom. She’s doing pretty good, trust me.”

“Can I ask another personal question?”

“I’m off the clock. Shoot,” you said.

“Your mom ever...try again with someone else?”

“Yes. Years later she found a good guy. He actually is who I stayed with after she passed. He’s married now, has some kids of his own but I know if I call him up he’d drop everything for me.”

“Good. I was getting afraid you were a complete Shakespeare tragedy,” he chuckled.

“Nah. I’m not at that level of crazy in my life,” you said. “As long as we’re off the clock, can I ask if you’re asking because you’re thinking of getting back out there?”

“I am. My wife kind of insisted on it. When we first got serious we had this deal that we’d go try again if something happened. I mean, I don’t cry everytime I think about her now. I can smile and be happy and that ache doesn’t try to swallow me up everyday anymore. I think it’s time I could get back out there.”

“I’d say it is. The kids are ready. They’ll understand.”

“You think your mom loved the second guy as much as your dad?”

“For sure. She was a bit of a free spirit but she didn’t think you had to have just one soulmate. She told me that after she’d met Ray. She said she got two so maybe I had two out there. I haven’t found either one of them yet so I’ll take increasing my odds as best I can.”

“Well you’re not gonna meet your soulmate sitting at home on Saturday nights, Y/N.”

“Just a lot of douchey guys,” you said.

“Ah. You need to meet a better kind of guy is all,” he said.

“Yeah see I’m thirty. All the good guys are married by now.”

“Oh all of them are taken. I didn’t realize that,” he said with a chuckle. “What am I then? Another douchebag?”

“You don’t count. You’re…”

“Too old for you?” he chuckled.

“My boss. Plus you’re like famous. You can go get like a victoria secret model or something.”

“Looks ain’t everything.”

“Maybe I ought to try older guys now that you say that,” you said.

“Y/N, you gotta be careful with that. I don’t want to see you get taken advantage of.”

“And this is why I watch netflix on Saturday nights,” you said.

“You serious about the older guy crack?” he asked. 

“I do find them more...attractive sometimes. I guess it depends on how old. Why?”

“I got a friend my age, might be interested?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” you said. “No offense to your friend but...I mean if he’s 42...I want kids and stuff you know? Although a dude it doesn’t really matter how old...I don’t know.”

“It was just a thought,” he said with a smile.

“I’ll think about it,” you said. “He’s not a weirdo, right.”

“No. He’s an actor. Something to think about,” he said.

“I will,” you said. “Thank you for the birthday cake, Jensen. You’re a good person.”

“I bought a cake.”

“Yeah but I haven’t really had one of those in years. You’re a good person.”

“You’re very welcome,” he said as you slid off your seat. “You’re free to hang out if you like.”

“I’m kinda tired. I won’t be getting up that early from now on I don’t think.”

“I completely understand,” he said. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight Jensen.”

________

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

[blissfulparker]

A Work in progress→T.H

Parings: Tom Holland x Actress!reader

Summary: when You and Tom both have each other as a celebrity crush, you two unknowingly take on the role of each other’s lovers in a new movie and are expected to make it real. When the director puts the two of you in a house for the weekend to get to know each other there is little more to rehearsing than just your lines.

Warnings: awkwardness in the first half, smut(oral female), sexual tension

A/n: this is based off of a blurb I did, where it was just from a physical affection prompt list that I went off on! I hope you guys enjoy 💗

Wc: 4k

Tom didn’t know why he was so nervous as he opened the large glass doors to the conference building. His palms were sweaty as he walked alone rather than with his brother and assistant Harry.

He loved working on new projects, new films, meeting new people but the scare of not knowing the new people made him nervous. At this point he normally would be able to get some sort of name, do some research on said person but this time they gave him nothing but a script.

The script was more of a love story. a serious role but one where he could be more seductive and serious, he could let go of the goofy teenager character he seemed to be stuck with.

His character, Jack, who would be the corrupt business man who falls for the one trying to bring down his company, the main female protagonist, Beth.

The meeting started at 10:00. Always being early he seemed to see someone else was too. You stand in front of the coffee machine, trying to get it to work as you waited for the meeting to start—or at least people to come in.

“Oi let me help you with that—“ he offers but a small Yelp comes from your mouth as you quickly turn around and hit your head against the British accented stranger.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry! You scared me half to death—“ you hold your head as you look up, a wave of heat washes over your body and you don’t know if it was just because you hit your head hard enough or if it was because you finally figured out who you were working with.

“I should’ve said something else first, I’m so sorry—“ fuck. He thinks as he looks at you. You who managed to make a way onto the list of celebrities he wants to work with. You who also made it on the list of celebrities he wants to date.

The fans knew quickly he had a tiny crush on you. As he once liked a fan edit of the two of you on the read carpet. He seemed to be one of the firsts to like your Instagram photos and even mentioning your name in an interview saying how pretty you were.

You were the same, with smaller fame of course. You along with half of the other population who enjoyed marvel movies and dorky characters, you fell in love with the curly haired British boy. Finding him extremely talented and a heartthrob of course, you quickly dreamt about working with him but laughed about it never coming true.

Now he was in front of you. His chin red from where your head collided with it and he only stares at you in response.

The awkward silence quickly filled as the two of you tried and laugh off the interaction.

“Tom—“

“(Y/n)—“ you both say your names at the same time. Him going in for a handshake and you going in for an awkward hug. The two of you stop and laugh it off before deciding a simple handshake was the way to go. You had never wanted to quit your entire career more than now.

“Oh! Perfect!” Finally as the tension was cut the director walked into the room. Two people followed behind and you took a deep breath already nervous for the new film and exactly what Toms role was. As far as you read, the main female character, who you were to be playing, had to be in lingerie a few times in front of the main male character. There were also sex scenes, plenty of kiss scenes and sexual tension. You were fit for the character but you were not fit for Tom. All your fantasies about him were just fantasies.

“I see the two of you have already met. But If not, (y/n) meet Tom, Tom meet (y/n) you two will be working together for the next few months as I’m sure you are aware of your roles. (Y/n) will be playing the lover and spy where Tom you will be playing the businessman. I’m sure we already know our positions…” the director starts and you swallow hard.

Tom doesn’t know if you’re looking or not to see the pink shade coming to his cheeks and making him hot. You were just an actress, he thought, an actress who just had to play the role. He was an actor as well, he reminds himself. A very good one for the fact so he didn't want to mess this up all because of one silly crush.

“We want to put you two in a house together.” The director claps his hands together making you nearly spit out the coffee you had in front of you. Tom's head snaps to look at you as you cough a bit trying to digest the words.

“You want us to live together?” Tom speaks for you it seems.

“We only want to see your chemistry! The fans, the academy, loves chemistry! Trust me, people will love the movie but they will not care if they see just two other actors acting to be in love. Not really caring you know? We want to see you guys build a bond, passion, some sort of love even if you lie to us about it to make it believable. Run through your lines, skinny dip with each other for all we care we just want to see passion!” You feel like his words are turning into a dream as he speaks. You feel your heart pounding at his words and try your hardest to keep your calm.

“And where will we be going?” You finally find the strength to speak. If it was anyone else you would not care, reminding yourself you are a good actress and have acted like you wanted to fuck a man you hate. But this was a man you actually wanted to fuck, a man you actually wanted real passion with.

“We rented you two a flat in spain,” he mentions, right, where you’ll be shooting, you think. “It’s only three days and if you want more we will give you more if you don’t we will let you free. Every expense is paid for, go to dinner, have wine, everything will be on the film. This is both of your chances at big awards this year. This is for you and for us.” You could almost feel Toms body heat as he was just as nervous as you, you didn’t know why though. He was the heartthrob, he was the actor that was wanted left and right, this was your big chance at a movie that can skyrocket your career.

The next hour feels torturous as all you could think about was what this house looked like for the two of you. Did it have two rooms? Two bathrooms? Why did your head hit his chin? Is there a bump? What if he hates you? What if he’s secretly seeing someone and just doesn’t want to announce it? All thoughts ran through your head as you had to make this your best acting gig yet. Except the most acting might be pretending not to love Tom the way you do.

-

Three days. That’s all it was. You would spend three days in whatever this house looked like and all you would have to do is pretend to get to know Tom. All while trying not to expose how much you truly like him.

There were rumors he had a crush on you, of course you saw the interview and noticed how he liked your pictures but you also knew his co-stars from Spider-Man so your thoughts were friendly.

Taking an Uber to the destination, you pull up to this beautiful Italian cottage. Gorgeous stone walls and large driveway, If there was one emotion to be real about this entire thing, it would be that you were spoiled with this house.

You were already nervous as people started to catch on through social media, his fans seeming to know his constant move now quickly knowing yours.

‘Stars (y/n) (y/l/n) and Tom Holland possibly take on a new film with one another: here’s what we know’

‘Why is Tom in Italy?’ ‘Is (y/n) in Italy?’ ‘Rumor is they are filming together soon’

Your heart rushed with comments you had read. Maybe this wasn’t for you, maybe you should stay with doing small movies where you were a side character or something simple. Keep the small amount of followers you had compared to Toms 40 million.

As you go up to knock on the door wondering if he’s already beat you to the place, the door opens and reveals the sight of Tom.

Another Yelp escapes your lips as you jump at Tom opening the door so quickly.

“If we’re living together I think you should hold off on scaring me.” You take a deep breath. His hair was wet, he was fresh out of a shower.

“Sorry darling! They told me your flight landed at 2:00 and well...it’s 2:00 so you aren’t supposed to be here until like 3:00.” He claims and you take a deep breath. Three days, you remind yourself, don’t mess it up.

“Oh…” you swallow.

“Not that I didn’t want to see you! It’s nice to see you again, you look really nice!” He says as you wear the sweats and the sweatshirt from the airport. “Let me help you with those.” He grabs your bags for you and you smile letting him take it. He leans in just close enough for you to smell the aftershave he put on, his muscles flex as he grabs your bags making this all the harder for you.

The night was young, fans already knew, this was your shot at making it big, Tom's shot of winning an Oscar, you two needed to work together. Pushing aside the worried one sided emotion and be able to make a movie that blows people away

“Have you ever done anything like this before?” You asked as you walked into the kitchen. It was now late, you were starving, you and Tom already getting to know each other but it was strange.

“No, I mean the most I’ve done for a chemistry read is take the person out to dinner.” He laughs a little and then runs a hand through his hair. “Speaking of dinner...should we grab something or make something. Unless you had plans of your own then that’s totally fine—“ he starts to ramble and you laugh.

“I cannot cook, so unless you can I prefer to pick something up.” You cut him off to make sure he doesn’t go on and on.

“Have you ever pizza from Italy before?” He asks and you lean against the counter.

“I’ve never been in Italy before.” You shrugged and he grew a smirk. He turns on his heels as if he already has an idea.

“Then I know a place.” He walks out of the room to grab his phone.

You feel your heart pounding as you check your phone. You made a mistake by opening your Twitter, 10k new followers, 50k mentions and plenty more all regarding Tom. You only hoped he wasn’t the type to use Twitter as it was flooded with people wanting you guys to be together.

Your mind swarms with the thought of your character again. Soon you’d have to stand in front of your celebrity crush, half naked, trying to seduce him. It was going to be more awkward if you guys were friends.

“Are you coming?” He calls out and you quickly shove your phone in your back pocket before grabbing your purse to go.

Three days and you feel like you’re already going to snap.

-

It was a lovely little place he brought you to. You didn’t know If he’d come to Italy often but he clearly knew a decent way around the city. The two of you sat in the corner of a dimly lit Italian restaurant, sharing pizza and feeling more comfortable with each other as the night went on. He was just another person, you thought, nothing to worry about.

“We didn’t order any wine.” You stop the server as he pours both you and Tom a glass. Tom already drunk off of the beer he had and you only enjoying his presence.

“Ah it’s on the house, such a lovely couple in such a lovely city! You two should have fun!” The server winks. You almost protest to stop him telling him that you and Tom were nearly just coworkers stuck in a house for three days.

But rather Tom thanks the server and takes the glass. Your heart pounding as you pick up the glass as well, the boys eyes already red from how much he’s had already and you can tell you have to take him home.

“You know I was nervous to be working with you.” He took a sip before setting it down. “When I saw you I was like ‘shit this is happening’ and freaked out.” He admitted and you try to hold back the butterflies in your stomach.

“You freaked out for working with me?” You swallowed and he nodded.

“Well look at you, you’re gorgeous! Anyone would be lucky to work with you, as your lover as well.” He falls back into the booth and stares at the décor on the ceiling.

“So you read all the scenes?” You ask and he nodded.

“Of course i did! I only improve when I feel like it.” He shrugs, taking another sip.

“You said you’re method too.” You remember from one interview you watched years ago. Your voice was more of a whisper, more to yourself but he grows a soft smirk as he turns his head to face you.

“So you watched my interviews.” He says feeling cocky. You roll your eyes taking another sip of wine yourself to hopefully drown out the embarrassment you just gave yourself.

“As if I don’t see you being the first to like my posts, Holland.” You avoid eye contact and rather look around the room but Tom only focuses on you.

When you catch his eyes they’re sober, this whole time he was telling stories in a drunken state and now he looks at you with glossy soft eyes as if he wants to hear more.

“So you see me liking your posts?” He teases and you finally look at him.

“I see everyone liking my posts. Why do you follow me?” You challenge and he holds back a smirk.

“You’re friends with Z, why do you follow me?” He asks back and you feel yourself straighten.

“Z is friends with a lot of people, I don’t see you following all of them?” You argue and he falls back into the booth again with a soft chuckle.

“So not only do you follow me but you stalk me?” He teases and you groan.

“Not what I meant.” You see how much wine you have left, not a lot as your nerves filled you and the wine didn’t calm you. “You liked a fan edit of us a year ago. We’ve never met until a few days ago.” You rest your head on your hand that props itself up against the table. That’s what makes him lose his game, he turns a light shade of red before quickly straightening himself up.

“You’re talented, why don’t we see more of you?” He asks about your roles.

“You’re about to see everything in a few days.” You mumble and he chokes on his wine.

Page 281

*Beth removes her robe in front of Jack, slowly stalking towards him wearing the tight black lingerie* *she crawls on top of his sleepy figure and points a gun*

It was embarrassing that such a scene turned him on after finding out who it was with. After finding out it was you, he read over every single sex scene, strip scene, makeout scene to make sure everything was real.

“Oh relax.” You hold back a smile. “You’re the Method actor, remember?” You tease. He leans forward, he’s not sure how he’s gotten so confident but he takes your glass and drinks from it before setting it down.

“Yeah, I am. We should rehearse some things, get more comfortable.” He suggests and you look at him up and down. His lips slightly stained reddish pink from the wine, his skin damp from how hot the room was, and he looked at you as if no one else was in the room.

“And where should we start?” You swallow, you can’t get shy now. You’ve dreamt about this moment and now it’s happening.

“Well, if we’re starting with their meeting, I think it would go something like this.” He leans in and places a soft kiss on your neck. You’re frozen as his lips are soft and warm, he pulls back and realizes what he’s done. His thoughts of you, his crush on you, the warm alcohol that ran through his blood all while being in Italy got the best of him.

“I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done—“ he started and you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to kiss lips. His eyes go wide softly as if he was a school boy getting his first kiss.

“More wine?” The waiter comes back and Tom snaps out of it for a split second.

“We’ll take the check.”

-

Your hands tangled in with his messy hair, his shirt already off as he was warm from the summer heat Italy provided. His lips trail down from your lips to your neck as he plays with the strings of the summer dress you wore.

“I can’t believe this is happening.” His words mumbled into your chest as he lets the shoulders of your dress fall.

“Why? You want to admit you have a crush on me now?” you teased and when he looks up his eyes are darker. The sweet chocolate puppy dog eyes before now darkened as his lips were swollen and his face was hot. His hands rest at your hips with a tight grip as he wants more.

“You admitted to stalking my interviews and who i follow so i should be asking you that question.” he teased and you rolled your eyes. Your Only respond by pushing his head back into your chest where he planted soft kisses trailing down.

“So soft,” he takes off the bra you wore. Hes thought about this moment but would never admit it. Hes thought about how soft your skin is and how you looked under his touch with his head in between your legs—

“Do something tom.” you groan as he is on his knees for you. Your dress bunched at your waist, all exposed for him as he takes off the black lace underwear you wore under the dress.

“All for me?” he asks and your head hits the back of the wall, your hands go to his hair and he kisses gently at your thigh. “Say something, darling.” darling, you think about the way he says that word. The simple nickname that made you melt. Darling, that was going to be the death of you.

“Y-yes!” you find the words. “I-I don’t think this is apart of the script though.” You still try and be playful and just below your eyes you can see he has a playful and cocky smirk.

“This,” his thumb rubs at your clit as he looks up. His lips cherry red and his smirk is full view to you as he sees your eyes flutter shut as your head was thrown back. “This is where I improve.” he replaces his thumb with his tongue as he pumps his middle finger in and out of you. Your hands grip his hair as you moan his name, his name that you thought of so many times before this in your dreams.

Your knees go weak as his one hand pins your hips against the wall and his other fingers thrusted in and out of you while his tongue works at your clit.

“Tommy!” The nickname slipped, you didn’t mean it but you imagined it sometimes long before you met him and just had a crush.

“Huh darling? Like that? Want to cum?” His words horse and his accent thicker. “That’s right...” he almost laughs as he can see how much you’re whimpering. “Cum for me.”

You fall under his touch with soft moans leaving your lips. The wave of euphoria washes over you and you struggle to open back up your eyes and come back to reality.

He comes back up to face you, this time you have a thin layer of sweat over your forehead and your chest rises as you catch your breath. You take Tom's fingers and take them into your mouth. Acting as if it were him in your mouth you work your tongue around his finger before taking them out with a pop.

His eyes stare and he almost winces at how hard he is. How hard you've made him.

“This is going to be the best damn movie i've ever filmed.” he nearly whispers as you bite down on your lip before pulling him back into your lips.

This was going to be the best six months of your life.

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[in-ky]

An Old Scent [1] - Negan x Reader (A/B/O AU)

Summary: During summer break, you decide to come back home to visit your dad, Rick. Over the course of your stay, you realize that your dad's friend is pretty hot.

Warnings: Eventual smut, A/B/O dynamics, cheating, age gap, Negan

A/N: yay first fic! this will have four parts! i hope everyone enjoys. this is an au where the apocalypse never happened. 3.2k words

I squinted as I stepped out into the bright Virginian sun. People swarmed all around me, creating the steady hum of airport ambience that I had grown accustomed to over the years. I had just gotten off a four-hour flight home from college and all I wanted to do was shower and curl up in bed. But I couldn't. Oh, no. First I had to endure a fun thirty-minute car ride with my best friend since second grade. I scanned the curb in front of me for her small black car and caught sight of a tall woman waving at me. I grinned and walked forward, tugging along my baggage behind me.

"Ugh, it's so good to see you, Bee." I sighed as I enveloped my friend into a large hug. She let out a laugh and swayed us gently.

"It's good to see you, too," She hummed, rustling my hair "I forgot how short you were." Bee was an alpha; tall, muscular, and very quick to remind me of our differences. Of course, it was in a 'joking with love' kind of way. I was an omega; small, rounded, and very quick to punch her gently in the abdomen.

"I forgot how much of a jerk you are." I quipped, huffing and wheeling my bag to her trunk.

"Oh, come on, babes, don't be like that," Bee laughed, opening the driver side door and waiting for me to walk back to my side. "Now get in, we've got a lot of catching up to do."

---

"How are your heats going?"

"Jesus, that's what you want to start with?" I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest. Bee shrugged.

"We don't have to if you don't want to," She clarified, turning out onto the street "I'm just saying, I know they've gotten pretty bad as we've gotten older. Did you try out those tips I sent you?"

"Yea, I did," I said quietly, looking at the trees rushing by on the side of the highway "They worked for a while but..."

"But you need an alpha," Bee sighed, finishing the sentence for me.

"That's the plan for this summer," I agreed "Might finally settle down."

"You know, I'm always here if you need me." She said with a wink. I scoffed at her.

"I'm not that desperate," I laughed, shoving her lightly "Not yet, at least."

"Anyone take your interest back in Colorado?"

"Not really," I hummed, tilting my head in consideration. "There was this one guy. We dated for a few months but towards the end he became a total knot-head. He couldn't keep his hands off me. I thought it was cute at first, but after I started to miss a few classes...well, that shit got old pretty quickly." Bee made a disgusted noise.

"Ugh, men," She grunted, wrinkling her nose "I'm glad I never went through that phase. I'm perfectly happy with chicks, thank you very much. Much less of a pain in my ass."

"Oh, they're not so bad," I smirked "I think it's just alphas in general." She glared at me momentarily and I stuck my tongue out at her. We drove in a comfortable silence for a few moments, just enjoying each other's company. That was always something I loved about Bee. We never had to fill every second with chatter, we could just exist together in the same space and be just as content. She started to hum along to the song that buzzed softly from the radio and my eyes tracked a hawk. Soon enough, we reached our exit and Bee turned the car onto a smaller road, starting the countdown to my arrival home.

"Are you excited to see your dad?" Bee asked, killing the silence.

"Yea, I am," I smiled. We hadn't always had the best of relationships, but the distance that college gave had done wonders for us. A few texts and calls had worked perfectly for us. When he invited me to stay a few weeks during summer I gladly accepted. I wanted to see just how well our relationship had strengthened. Plus I knew he really needed someone.

"How's he doing?" There was genuine concern in Bee's voice. A few months ago, my mom had revealed that she had been having an affair with one of dad's work buddies. She left with him and took my brother down to Georgia.

"I think he's okay. But you know dad, he's not really an emotions guy. He was starting to get some closure but then the divorce papers came in the mail. That really hurt him," I told her, twisting a strand of my hair around my finger. "I just don't know how Lori could do that to him, you know? She won't even let Carl up to visit. The new baby's cute, though. Looks just like Shane." Bee hummed in acknowledgement.

"Well, tell him I said hi, alright?"

"Will do." A few more seconds of silence passed. Until we stopped at a light. Bee looked up and spotted a billboard that sported a very familiar, very handsome face.

"Holy shit!" Bee shrieked, slapping my arm.

"Ow, what the hell?" I hissed, grabbing my shoulder. She pointed frantically at the sign.

"That guy! Isn't that, shit- the hell's his name?" Pulling my eyes from my lap, I let them settle on the object of her excitement. All of the color drained from my face. It was an add for a law firm. There was an old geezer posing proudly on the left, and to his right, was the man who haunted my wet dreams for the majority of high school.

"Negan." I gulped.

"Yea, your dad's hot friend you never shut up about." Bee groaned, pressing on the gas and moving us away from the sign. Negan was a lawyer/make-shift-law-professor and baseball coach at the local community college. He had a sort-of contract with my dad's department. Many times I had come home after school to the two of them puzzling out a case on the kitchen table. Negan was an alpha of alphas, something that got my little omega heart (and other things) pumping until I couldn't breath. His humor and dominating persona made me blush a deep crimson color any time I saw him. Sometimes I would spend hours sitting on the stairs just listening to him talk to my dad. His voice was something else. I had gushed to Bee about him countless times during our times at high school. But I hadn't seen him since my graduation party.

"I wonder if you'll see him again," Bee teased, nudging me again to pull me out of my trance of memories. Then, she did a dramatic gasp. "What if he's your mate?" It was my turn to slap her in the shoulder.

"He's older than my dad!" I squealed, burying my now-blushing cheeks in my hands.

"You're an adult I don't think it matters."

"I think he's engaged."

"Just 'cause there's a goalie doesn't mean you can't scoooore." Bee pulled a face at me and I returned her grimace.

"Whatever, you're lucky we're almost at my house." I huffed, falling back into my seat with my arms crossed over my chest.

"Oh, yea, omega? What are you gonna do?" I rolled my eyes as she laughed off my grumpiness. We rolled to a stop in front of my driveway and a leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks so much, Bee, I really appreciate you," I grinned, popping open the door.

"No problem, babes," She winked, unlocking the trunk "But I swear to the gods, you better fucking call me and give me updates on everything, especially if you run into Mr. Hotcakes." I rolled my eyes once more and promised her I would before closing the door. I retrieved my bag and gave her a wave as she drove down the street. When she was out of view, I took a deep breath and turned around, walking up the driveway to the front door.

I knocked heavily on the dark oak door. While I waited for someone to answer, I decided to look around at the home I had left behind about a year ago. My childhood home had changed now and then over the years, but there were still some iconic pieces of memories in the front yard that could never be forgotten. My personal favorite was Eddie the garden gnome. He was a standard gnome: small and stout with a large white beard that led into a pointy red hat. His eyes were shut and his mouth was curved into a smile. However, he was missing a nose. I grinned as I recalled the unfortunate mishap that caused Eddie to become deformed. I was about twelve, and carl was five. He had gotten a kid's baseball from Negan for his birthday and had begged me to teach him how to play, since I was on the local softball team at the time. I relented and set it up in the front yard. Eddie was our outfielder. Eddie didn't have a mitt. Well, he did, but it was his face. Carl absolutely smashed the first pitch I tossed at him and hit poor Eddie right in the face, shattering his round, pink nose into pieces. Carl bursted into tears and I had to promise him that he did not in fact kill our precious protector of our house. Lori ran out frantically and comforted her son before giving me a thorough chewing out for damaging Eddie. We never used the set again. That she knew of, anyways. Negan always let us play in his yard, though. I smiled at the memory, but the clicking of the lock to the door pulled me from my train of thought. The door swung open and I was met with the smiling face of my father.

"Sweetie, I'm so glad you made it!" He laughed, pulling me in swiftly and squeezing me tight.

"It's good to see you too, dad." I croaked, letting out a small chuckle. I tapped on his shoulder as a signal for him to let go.

"How was the flight?" He asked as he stepped out to grab my bag. I told him it was good but that the screaming kids had given me a bit of a headache. He gave a small laugh and gestured for me to enter. I thanked him and he rolled my bag in behind me. We exchanged a few words but as soon as I walked through the kitchen into the doorway of the living room I was hit by a wall. Not literally, no, but rather a wall of overwhelming scent. It was a delicious swirl of campfire and whiskey, with a hint of cigarettes and leather. I paused for a moment, my eyes forced closed and my lungs taking a deep breath of the intoxicating air. Colors danced across my eyelids. My whole body was flooded with warmth and my toes tingled. I felt safe and calm, and there was something else; something deep within my stomach that I couldn't quite identify, something I never felt before. My eyes snapped open when I felt my father's hand rest firmly on my shoulder.

"I hope you don't mind, sweetie, but I invited company over while I was waiting for you to arrive," He smiled at me. I got a good look at him then. He looked the same, his hair was a bit longer, a bit greyer. But his eyes were different. They were darker, rounder, rawer. I gave a soft smile and told him it was fine. He guided me into the living room. It was then I realized where that deadly smell was coming from. Or, rather, who it was coming from. "Negan, you remember my girl." In that moment, I held my breath as I scanned Negan. He looked fucking amazing, just as he always had. Perfect dimples guarding a charming smile, all surrounded by a gorgeous salt and pepper beard. His hair was longer than it was when I had left, not slicked back, but it still framed his face perfectly. Negan's body was draped casually over the sectional couch, legs crossed at the ankle on the ottoman. His arms were on the top of the couch and his wrists were dangling. He knew he was hot. That bastard. I suddenly became aware of his eyes raking over my form and I shifted from one foot to the other.

"'course I do, Rick," Negan said, voice silky and deep. I couldn't help but let a small shudder run down my spine. All I wanted to do was kneel down in front of him and curl up at his feet. I forced my inner omega down, shaking the thought from my head. "How could I forget the little slugger?" I cringed inside at the nickname. Especially the use of the word 'little'. I begged that he didn't still see me as the kid down the street. Instead as a grown woman. A grown omega.

"Hi, Negan." I greeted with a small smile, swallowing to relieve my dry throat. Now that I was next to him, his scent was clogging all my senses. I gripped onto the couch and lowered myself onto the cushion, hoping to ground myself. It helped, just barely. My heart was pounding, my instincts telling me to submit to this man in front of me. Why, though? Why now? He had never smelled this good before. No alpha had. Was I getting close to my heat? I did have a stomach ache, but that could be from Negan alone.

"Hey, sweetheart. How's college goin'?" Negan asked, sipping on his drink. He kept eye contact with me the whole time. Rick handed me a glass of soda and I thanked him.

"It's good!" I said after taking a sip, thankful for the hydration in my coarse throat "Towards the end it got a little hectic, but I was able to stay on top of everything, thankfully."

"You're studying film, right?" He asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

"That's right," I grinned, crossing my legs to relieve some of the pressure the movement caused to build up in my lower abdomen "You still teaching law?" This caused him to chuckle. Literally music to my ear.

"If that's what you want to fuckin' call it." Negan sighed, falling back to his original position, hands resting in his lap "I talk, the kids kinda listen. I just do it for the coaching job, really. You remember how much I love that damn sport, right?"

"Baseball?" I asked, raising a brow "You mean the only thing you talked about at all of the Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners you were invited to?"

"Touché." Negan grinned. Goddamn that smile. Butterflies erupted in my chest, beating hard against my ribcage, begging to throw myself at his chest and bury myself in him. Rick cleared his throat and smiled at me to get my attention.

"I want to know more about your college experience!" He beamed, rubbing a hand through his beard "Any special alphas you've got your eyes on?" I heard Negan choke slightly on his whiskey. A small bubble of pride rose in my chest. I laughed at his words.

"Dad, I don't think Negan wants to hear about my love life."

"Shit, doll, I don't mind," He grumbled "I don't get to hear any drama now-a-days"

"What do you mean?" I giggled, tilting my head "You argue for a living. Your job is to literally deal with drama."

"Yea, but that's complex drama," He growled, waving his hand dismissively "I wanna hear simple, schoolgirl 'he loves me, he loves me not' kind of bullshit."

"Well sorry to disappoint," I snorted, running a hand through my hair "but no, there's no one I have an eye on." Dad's smile turned into a frown.

"Shame." I heard Negan whisper. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to hear it. It was quiet, barely above his breath, and he said it while twirling his whiskey, following the words with a large gulp.

"You really should start looking, dear." Dad said with a sigh "You know it only gets harder as you get older."

"Dad please, I don't..." I cut him off "Listen, I appreciate you trying to understand this stuff, I really do, but I don't really want to talk about it with my father." He looked at me with an understanding smile.

"Sure," He nodded "But if you ever need anything, anything at all, you just let me know, alright." I nodded.

"Well, this sure has been fun, Ricky-boy," Negan grinned, getting to his feet and stretching his arms far above his head. "We do have that big court case in the mornin', though, and I need my shut-eye."

"Big case, eh?" I asked, rising from my seat as well. Dad nodded and excitement sparked in his eyes.

"You should come! It's an open court and I would love for you to see what I do. I know you always wanted to as a kid, but your mom made you wait until you were older. Well, now's the perfect time!" He rambled, grasping my shoulders.

"W-Well, I dunno, I don't want to be a distraction," I stumbled, taken aback by my father's display of enthusiasm. I turned to Negan, as if asking for permission. He just laughed.

"Oh-o, doll, I don't get distracted. Not in there, not anywhere. Don't you worry about a goddamn thing. You should come, Rick seems like he really wants you to."

"Okay, then," I grinned, nodding in commitment "I'll see you there in the morning then." I looked up to Negan and we locked eyes for a brief moment. But in that moment, something within me quivered. He brushed up against me and smirked down at me.

"See you tomorrow, sweetheart. It was nice to see you. You're lookin' great." It took all my willpower not to let out a whimper as he walked past me, taking his glorious scent with him.

My dad said that he should also get some rest, but that I could stay up as long as I wanted to. I was pretty wiped from my flight so I opted to follow him up the narrow staircase, tugging my bag behind me. I hugged him goodnight and stepped into my room. It hadn't been touched since I left last summer. The forest green bedspread was still perfectly tucked into the mattress and two plump pillows were perched at the head of the bed. My muscles ached for the soft release of sleep. I put my suitcase down by my dresser, taking a moment to smile at some old photos of me and Bee as kids. I showered and brushed my teeth before getting into the comfortable bed. I looked up at the ceiling and giggled softly at the glow-in-the-dark stars shining overhead. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I wasn't thinking of anything in particular, but for some reason, all of my dreams were plagued by the sweet smell, sound, sight, feeling, and taste of Negan.

[hangovercurse]

Favorites

You work at the preschool next to Casie’s middle school. One day, you catch Colson’s eyes while working, and lucky for him you happen to know his daughter.

Request: “Hi!! Let me start out by saying that you are so so so talented!! I was wondering if you’d write something about colson falling for a preschool teacher? like he just sees her one day while he’s picking up casey from the middle school and he’s all soft seeing her interact with the kids and he makes up excuses to keep coming to see you!?”

Colson X Reader

Warnings: Cursing (maybe?)

A/N: I did that thing where I write too much… again.

Word Count: 2394

Colson tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, drumming softly to the beat of the music coming from his radio. He pulled into the school parking lot, the line already a million cars long it seemed. But he promised Casie he would pick her up whenever he wasn’t working so she didn’t have to take the bus. If that meant spending thirty minutes in a line of slow-moving cars, so be it.

As he was jamming, he glanced out the passenger window, finding a smaller building with a chain link fence outside, surrounding a child’s playground. The door happened to swing open while he was looking, and from there time seemed to move in slow motion.

Out of the door came a dozen or so toddlers, waddling their way outside, surrounding the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. The sun bounced off of your skin perfectly, making everything around you seem so much brighter.

Your skirt flowed with the slight breeze, making the scene more picturesque. He watched as you reached down, picking up one of the toddlers and holding him in your arms. The small boy seemed to be crying, over what Colson couldn’t tell.

You seemed to be speaking to the boy, bouncing him up and down in your arms to comfort him. Meanwhile, a little girl with pigtails made her way over to you. You spoke to her brightly, reaching the arm that wasn’t holding the boy to hold her hand.

Colson’s eyes followed you as you let her drag you over to the playground. You supported her as she climbed the small rock-climbing wall and reach the landing for the slide. You then smiled as she made her way down the slide, telling her good job when she made it to the bottom.

You then turned your attention back to the boy in your arms, making silly faces at him until he laughed.

All it took was those few moments for Colson to get hooked. If there was one thing he found attractive above all else, it was women who loved children. He refused to date anyone who wasn’t supportive of his relationship with Casie, so you were already ahead of everyone on his list. It also helped that you were breathtakingly beautiful.

Colson just got good vibes from you. From his brief observation of you, he could tell you were compassionate and kind, but also childlike and fun, much like himself.

The blonde man was pulled from his thoughts as the car in front of him started moving, signaling the line was moving.

 The next day, Colson had a plan. Instead of driving into the school parking lot, he pulled into the pre-school. He checked himself out in the mirror, praying he would see you working. He stepped out of the car, putting on his best confused dad face, and walked into the building.

And by some miracle, you happened to be speaking with the woman at the front desk.

You were even prettier up close, eyes meeting his and stopping him dead in his tracks. You smiled kindly, voice ringing out, “can I help you, sir.”

He returned your smile, “I was looking for the middle school but I have a feeling I ended up in the wrong place.”

You giggled slightly, “just a little. The middle school is just next door.” You pointed to your right. “Are you picking up a sibling?” You asked.

Truthfully, the man had caught your eye the moment he stepped into the door. It was rare you saw someone your own age, and he was exponentially more attractive than most men. What would it hurt if you got to know him a little bit?

“My daughter, actually.” He spoke, fiddling with the key in his hand. You tilted your head, his face seeming vaguely familiar.

You hesitated before speaking, “who’s your daughter? I substitute over there sometimes and you look vaguely familiar.”

He bit his lip, hoping he hadn’t blown his cover. “Casie Baker.” But surely, he’d have remembered you if he’d met you.

Your eyes widened at the name, “Casie? She’s my absolute favorite!” You grinned at the man, realizing immediately that their similar features made him feel familiar. “She’s awesome.”

Colson smiled, letting out a nervous chuckle, “thank you. Yeah, she’s great.”

“She tells me about you. Whenever I sub in her classes, she talks about how cool you are.”

Colson blushed lightly, rubbing his neck. “I’m Colson.” He reached out an arm to shake your hand, mentally kicking himself as soon as he did it.

You found it endearing, shaking his hand “Y/N.”

 A few days passed and Colson still couldn’t get over how soft your hands were, or how your touch sent electricity running through his body.

He felt ridiculous, leaving rehearsals and recording sessions to pick Casie up with the hope that he gets a glimpse of you.

After a few days of nothing, he almost loses that hope. Until he happens to arrive at the school a little bit early, windows rolled down to let the cool air in. He hears the sudden sound of children laughing, pulling his attention to the playground next door.

And there you are, in all your beautiful glory. Guiding the kids out, helping them into swings and onto the stairs.

Colson must’ve pleased some God because you looked over your shoulder and found him. Of all the cars in the line, you found his, eyes locking immediately. You smiled softly, reaching a hand over to him and waving. He waved back, trying to keep his cool. But really, he was freaking out.

He thought about saying something, or mouthing something, rather, as you were too far away to hear him, but he was stopped by the beautiful brown hair of his favorite girl in the world. Casie plopped herself down on the seat next to him, her backpack falling to the floor with a frown on her face.

She looked up to her dad, about to complain about her day when she saw his preoccupation. She followed his eyes, finding you in the playground. Immediately her mood was lifted, and she turned back to her dad with a grin on her face.

“Daaad?” She questioned, her voice lifting at the end of her question. The blond man looked down to her a soft smile in his face.

“Hey Case, how was school?”

“You think she’s pretty, right?” Casie ignored his question.

Colson scoffed, rolling his eyes, and shifting his car into gear. “She’s… pretty. I guess.” He mumbled, pressing lightly on the gas.

Casie continued smiling up at him, “that’s Ms. Y/N. She’s the coolest.”

“Put your seatbelt on.” He said, pulling out of the parking lot. “And I know, I met her the other day.”

Casie’s eyes lit up at the thought of her two favorite adults meeting. “Really? How? Did you like her?”

Colson chuckled at his daughter, “I went into the pre-school parking lot by accident and she showed me how to get here.” He blushed, knowing Casie would easily spot his lie.

And that she did, “I’ve been going here for almost two years, how did you accidentally go into the wrong parking lot? You pick me up all the time.”

Colson coughed nervously, “so, how was school?” He tried to change the subject.

Casie gasped, “did you go to the preschool just to see her? You like her!”

“I just met her Casie.”

“You like Ms. Y/N!” she sang, dancing in her seat.

“How was school, loser?” He asked, laughing at her.

She ignored him, again. “Does she know you’re my dad? Did she say anything about me?”

He rolled his eyes, chuckling to himself at her excitement. “Yes, she does, and yes, she did.”

“What did she say?” Casie practically yelled.

“She said you were the worst student she’s ever substituted for.” He smirked, flinching lightly as Casie slapped his arm.

“She did not say that!” The girl pouted, “Ms. Y/N is my favorite teacher in the whole world.”

He couldn’t help but smile at her affection for you. “She’s not even technically your teacher. But she did say that you were her favorite student.”

Her eyes twinkled, “really?”

Colson nodded, “she also told me that you talk about me in class.” He looked at the girl, raising an eyebrow, “any reason why?”

Casie sunk into her seat, a guilty expression on her face. “No.” Colson looked back to the road, but his eyebrow was still raised, “Okay, fine. I just think it’d be really cool if my favorite dad and my favorite teacher were… friends.”

Colson laughed, “I am your only dad, first of all, and second… don’t be weird.”

“But you said you liked her!” Casie pointed out, making the man’s ears turn red.

“I said she was pretty, that’s not the same thing.”

Casie sang again, “whatever you say.”

He rolled his eyes again, letting out a sigh and dropping the conversation, knowing he would lose. “Are you gonna tell me how school was or not?”

Casie sighed, hitting her back against the seat, “Mr. Clemmons was being mean today again. He said he’s not gonna curve our test even though only 2 people got an A on it.” She crossed her arms and huffed.

Colson pouted, bringing a hand to rub her shoulder, “what’d you get on it?”

She mumbled out, “a B.”

His eyes went wide, “dude, what? That’s awesome, that’s above average. You should be proud of that!” He always tried to encourage Casie, knowing the insane amount of pressure people put on their kids nowadays and not wanting her to feel that.

Casie shrugged, “yeah but my guidance counselor says if I want to get into a magnet program in high school, I have to get all A’s. And I have to get in a magnet program high school to get into a good college.”

His eyes went wide as he pulled into his driveway, “woah, woah, woah. You’re 11 years old! You don’t need to worry about that stuff and whoever is telling you that is wrong. Getting a B or even a C isn’t gonna stop you from getting into whatever program you want, I promise.”

Casie sighed, opening the door, and sliding out. “I don’t wanna talk about this anymore. Can we go back to talking about how you like Ms. Y/N?” She asked, her shoulders slumped.

Colson rolled his eyes, climbing out of the car and following her inside. “I don’t like Ms. Y/N.” He groaned.

“Whatever, but next time she substitutes my class, I’m texting you and you’re gonna bring me lunch and talk to her.” Casie said, going to her room and throwing her backpack onto her bed.

 A week and a half later, Colson was sitting in his car in the school parking lot, staring at himself through his rearview mirror. He looked at the bag of chick-fil-a in the passenger side seat and sighed. His phone buzzed, a text from Casie coming through.

Lunch is starting, where are you???

He chuckled and texted back.

Going to the office now, calm down

He grabbed the bags and drinks, opening his door and stepping out. He made his way through the office, getting his visitor’s badge, and moving towards the cafeteria. He opened the door, searching through the sea of children for his daughter, only to find your eyes instead.

You smiled brightly, head tilting as if to ask why he’s here. He returned the smile, holding up the bags to answer your question. Casie appeared next to you, waving her hand. Colson made his way through the pre-teens, trying not to crush any of them.

Casie and you giggled at his struggle, joking with each other. Eventually he reached you two, setting the food on the table that Casie had reserved just for you three. The girl took her place across from him, motioning you to sit down next to him. You laughed but followed her directions.

Colson took the food out of the bag, passing Casie her sandwich and fries and pulling his food out of the bag. He turned to you, a smile on his face. “Woah, they must’ve given me an extra sandwich.” He held it out for you to take.

You obliged, giggling lightly. “How strange.” You commented, your smile never leaving.

“Oh, right. Ms. Y/N, this is my dad, Colson. Dad, this is Ms. Y/N, the best substitute ever.” Casie said, pointing between the two.

Colson chuckled, “yes, Casie. We’ve met.” He looked over to you, hiding his laugh behind his sandwich.

“Yep. Someone got lost and found me at the preschool.” You said, your voice exaggerating. Shit, Colson thought, you were onto him. “Speaking of, Casie. I know you’ve been talking about needing volunteer hours. If you want you can come by after school some days and help me with the aftercare program? I can take you home afterwards if your dad can’t pick you up.”

Casie smiled brightly, nodding her head. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!”

Colson watched the interaction, fondness in his eyes. If he wasn’t sure before, he was now. He was falling hard.

You turned to him, kindness in your eyes, “if it’s okay with your dad.” You said and he nodded.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind having her around. I’m cool with it.” He tried to hide the blush on his cheeks as you continued to look at him, taking in his features.

Casie squealed, “thank you!”

You simply smiled and shrugged, “it’s not a big deal. I get some extra help and I get to spend some more time with my favorite 11-year-old. Maybe her dad can even stop by and help sometime.”

You turned to the man next to you, who was sure he’d turned very red. He was never this nervous around women, but something about you made him incredibly self-conscious, like he had to impress you.

He mumbled out a quick “huh?” before registering your question. “Uh, yeah, sure. If you want me to come help. I’d be cool with that.” He turned to meet your eyes.

You giggled, holding the eye contact, “I do want you to. I’d like it a lot if you did.”

Casie looked between you two, suddenly regretting what she’d done, “are you two done? I’m trying to eat my sandwich.”

[moonbaby26]

Title: Sleepover

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Continuation from previous chapter. After getting Peter back to his house in D.C., he asks you to spend the night. You want to, but you’re also worried about what his mother and his twin sister Wanda may really think of you. As you and Peter get a little more time alone, you also wonder how far you’re ready to go yourself.

Warnings: Nothing more than kissing really in this chapter. Bit of awkwardness from Reader though not knowing what they really want or how to go about it yet.

Chapters: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: @drikawinchester , @n0obmaster69 , @alexloveskili , @bluesprings18 , @weakmoony-stuff , @slytherinsi-mp , @wintwrsoldiwr , @tommy-braccoli , @amourtentiaa , @cringingmemeries , @bi-panicatthe-disco , @himbos-are-my-lifeblood , @simp4mcuwomen , @ikkleroniekins , @cowboyenorgy , @the-chaotic-cow

My Masterlist

——————————

“Anyway, can we argue inside at least? (Y/N) promised to call Xavier when we got here.” Peter piped up, trying to shuffle away from his mother at last.

At the sudden sound of your name though, you felt an added bit of nervousness. You also made eye contact with Peter’s mother for the very first time then, as if she’d only just realized you were there.

Peter’s sister Wanda was also looking back at you with question in her face as well at the reveal of your name. But you said nothing yet, just walking up to hand Peter his crutches.

You purposefully busied yourself turning right back around too, getting that jacket he’d stolen on the plane out from the back of the car as well for him. The sunglasses he already had still on top of his head.

So then, the only other things left in the car were the meager amount of clothes you’d bought for yourself. Which you didn’t need right now as you walked back to the others, carrying his jacket. But really pretty unsure yourself if you were even going to be invited inside for long at all.

“Come on, I’ll show you where the phone is,” Peter spoke again though, either oblivious to the increasing awkwardness for everyone else or just ignoring it entirely as he motioned for you to follow him back up the steps and through the still open front door.

—————————

As you were unfolding the little piece of paper with the motel address and phone number from out of your pocket, you tried to concentrate on the task at hand. The corded phone was propped against your shoulder to rest against your ear, you now standing there in the Maximoffs’ small kitchen. But even as you started to dial the numbers, half your attention was still on whatever Peter was now rapidly saying to his family.

“Yeah, (Y/N) goes to that school. You know I just went there to go ask about Dad since they know him. But then there’s this explosion, and I had to pull everybody out. And all the sudden this mutant god is apparently attacking the world and he took Xavier. But then the government shows up like dolts thinking Xavier’s doing it instead. And they take us to question us, but they’ve got some evil experiment shit going on in there too-”

He only took the smallest breath, continuing at that accelerated pace. “And they had that other guy, remember him, Mom? Logan? Anyway, so he breaks out and wrecks the place, so we get out and I get (Y/N), then we find out where Xavier is so we go to get him. We’re in Egypt and we all fight and that god dude breaks my leg. But he’s trying to make Dad help him, but Dad turns on him and-”

“Hello?” You heard someone on the other end of the line finally answer at the motel. You could still hear Peter rattling on excitedly behind you though, your name peppered into his story several more times as you just answered back on the phone.

“Hi, is there a Charles Xavier checked in there? I need to ring his room please.”

There was a long pause where you could only keep standing there, just looking at the kitchen wall and the bit of older panelling that covered it before the phone finally started ringing again.

Peter was now already talking about the aircraft carrier and your stay there by the time you heard the receiver pick up again.

“This is Charles.”

“Hi…hey, it’s me.” You answered with some relief.

You could hear the quick recognition in the Professor’s own voice as you didn’t have to say your name before he gladly responded. “Ah, good. You made it with no trouble then? We checked in here a while ago. I’m in room 104 if you’d need to call back. Are you leaving now to drive back?”

You tried to commit the room number to memory even as you were already replying. “Yeah, it wasn’t a bad drive. We just got here a minute ago. I-”

“Yo, Prof.!” Peter interjected, surprisingly at your side abruptly, also speaking into the phone then. “We’re barely in the door. I was going to show (Y/N) around a bit. That cool? Pretty jet lagged anyway. Probably be safer to crash on the couch tonight and have (Y/N) head your way in the morning, right?”

You blinked, for one thing not even having heard Peter stop talking to his family. But two, he was really saying you should sleep here? Not just joking around anymore? Could he even decide that on his own?

You felt frozen in that moment, not wanting to look back towards the kitchen at all and whatever surprised expressions his mother and sister may now also have on their faces.

The pause on the other end of the line was very noticeable as well before Xavier eventually continued. Peter shimmied even closer to you so he could also put his ear almost against the phone as you turned it slightly for him.

“Peter, I appreciate you looking out for everyone’s best interests and safety,” The Professor answered then, but with that tone which said he clearly doubted that was the speedster’s true or only reasoning. “But I would think that’d be more for your mother to-”

“Mom!” Peter turned his head back, rather loud in your ear as you flinched a little. “Can (Y/N) sleep on the couch? I mean you hate it when Wanda drives late by herself. Same thing right? It’s a long drive back to New York. What self respecting mom is just going to throw anybody’s kid out into the night like that, huh?”

You were tired, yes. It’d already been a very long day of traveling. But you weren’t that helpless. You were pretty sure you’d be fine. This was so weird though. Standing here in silence while someone else bargained for you. Was he really just trying to extend your time together however he could?

“I don’t care, Peter.” You just heard a rather exasperated answer though from Magda after another moment. “You’re going to do whatever you want anyway. Why even ask me anymore?”

The tension from their argument in the driveway clearly remained, or maybe this was how it always was between them? You couldn’t know yet, just caught in the middle it seemed as Peter only took that as good enough, talking back into the phone quickly, “Mom says it’s cool.”

You heard a sigh on the other end, and Xavier replied, “You’re old enough, I don’t have much say myself. But do call me again when you are leaving so we know when you’re back on the road, agreed?”

“Yes.” You said, pulling the phone more back to you then. “I’ll definitely let you know. Please tell the others I’m okay. I’ll see you all soon.”

After that, you and the Professor both told each other goodnight, and that was it. You hung the phone back up, but not yet sure what you’d really gotten yourself into as you glanced back at Peter. Peter who was now outright grinning from ear to ear.

“So…Chuck Norris or Bruce Lee? Movie night?” He asked you.

But what else could you do? You didn’t mind getting the chance at a little more time together of course. You just weren’t sure about how much anyone else actually wanted you here in this house tonight.

——————————

Not long after, whatever deeper discussions still loomed in the air about Peter’s choices of chasing his estranged father straight into a near death experience with a genocidal mutant god appeared shelved. At least for now anyway.

You’d seen Magda grab some sort of drink. Resigning herself to an armchair and the living room television as she seemed to ignore you all then, even as Peter remained almost bubbly while the two of you started down the basement stairs to his room.

You really hadn’t seen where Wanda had gone, but Peter just kept talking. So your focus only returned to him as you both cleared the last step at the bottom of the staircase. You behind him as you carried his crutches, then handing them back to him as you entered the room.

“And voila, man cave de Pietro!” He announced, waving an arm out towards the space.

You weren’t sure why you’d expected something smaller either. Of course most basements sprawled out to take up near the whole bottom footprint of a house. But this was still large to you, and clearly well used.

There were things everywhere. More than just a room obviously. No, this was his life, his hideaway. The more you looked, the more things you saw. Bicycles, guitars, comic books, band posters, all pieces of his hobbies and likes scattered about.

But there was furniture as well. A little table, some chairs, was this always where he ate too? There was a big sectional couch, the cushions indented a little like he may have a favorite spot there.

You didn’t miss the expensive looking television as well, and the VHS player. All the tapes, and the nintendo and the atari, the record player, a stereo, and boxes of games, cassettes, and music records.

And his bed was near in the center of it all, much wider than one person should need and almost right on the ground as he just fell back onto it sending a noticeable wave across the sheets. A waterbed clearly. But you just laughed a little, still a bit amazed. “You really do live here in the true sense of the word don’t you?”

“Hey, I make do. Home sweet home.” He smirked, but also raised an eyebrow at you not long after. “So you didn’t even notice the table back there did you?”

At his words you did look back over your shoulder with a little confusion. But you started to smile as soon as you realized what he was talking about. An air hockey table back around the corner. Some clutter on top of it like it hadn’t been used in a while, but it was clear he remembered your arcade favorites to point it out like he was.

“I figured I’d try to keep that a surprise until now…you know, since our arcade date might be a little postponed for the moment. So uh, surprise?” He said, laying back on his bed as he put his arms behind his head, still watching you.

“I did see the Ms. Pac-Man.” You replied, motioning to the more obvious machine right against the wall. No wonder he’d said he was pretty good at that one.

“Yeah, I used to have Pong too. Wore it out though. And got tired of trying to find parts to fix it.”

“Oh, I could see that happening.” Sure, he probably played everything with a little super speed. Though imagining him somehow ‘shoplifting’ a whole arcade machine whenever he needed another one was a bit interesting. How did that even work?

“So, uh…you want me to put a movie on for real? I was trying to get us out of that kitchen before Mom went off again. But we can do whatever. You know…whatever you want?” He spoke, albeit maybe a little oddly as you glanced to him again.

He almost sounded a touch nervous with those last words? The slight change in tone was enough for you to catch anyway as you did walk over to the bed regardless before sitting down on the edge of it beside him.

But it was strange here, the more you considered everything. It was hard to explain really. Because how many countless times had you sat in your friends’ rooms at the mansion? Guys or girls, just talking or playing games or whatever. Just hanging out as you supposed most all people your age did. But there was never anything weird, never anything uncomfortable.

It could even be late at night sometimes, some of you only half dressed in your sleep shirts or pajamas and no one thought anything about it. Because you just knew back then that no one thought of you as anything but a friend too.

But with Peter…being here now, you were suddenly acutely aware that you were sitting on his bed. In his room, as he seemed to be waiting for some sort of guidance from you as well. Was that why he sounded nervous?

Yet had Crystal ever been here too you wondered. Sitting just where you were sitting now? And why would you think of such a stupid thing in this very moment?

“Hey.” Peter said gently, causing you to look down as you felt his fingers graze your wrist after he moved his arm to reach out.

You smiled a little at the contact, but still felt kind of foolish. There was no point in trying to play it cool though as you confessed the current reason for your own awkwardness at least. “I guess I just didn’t expect to be in anybody’s room like this. It’s not bad, it’s just…”

“Different?” He asked, helping you out a little to your surprise.

“Yeah.” You answered simply. But you could see as another emotion seemed to pass briefly through his expression, furthering your bit of confusion.

Was that guilt on his face?

And he spoke a little abruptly, with that rarer more serious tone emerging even though the words came fairly quick. “You know I was still just giving you a hard time right? I’m cool going as slow as we need. Despite being the fastest dude alive and all, I don’t have to be the fastest guy in bed. That’d royally suck actually. For both of us. So don’t feel like there are some sort of rules here. Like, you do not have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

You blinked, those words not what you were expecting. But it wasn’t bad at all the more you got to consider them. Was he really so worried that you may think he was trying to get something from you here that you weren’t yet ready to give?

Honestly, you didn’t even know yourself what you were ready for though. “Really, it’s okay.” You replied truthfully. “I’m not uncomfortable. I think I’m still in disbelief is all. I never would have thought this is how my summer would start this year. Never in a million years.”

He sat up, smiling again then with his normal tone bouncing back fairly easily. “And I am totally coming over for a pool party, as soon as this damned cast is off. I mean I’m white as shit so people may have to avert their eyes. But we would totally wreck the others in some volleyball or something. I know we would. As long as Jean doesn’t cheat with the telekinesis crap. I could do some whirlpools too you know, knock ‘em off their feet.”

“Sounds safe.” You said, laughing at the image. Maybe living in some random motel for the foreseeable future wouldn’t be so bad after all?

He chuckled in return, but was cut off by another voice just before he started to speak again.

“Knock knock.”

You both looked up toward the stairs as you first saw a pair of black boots coming down them. Black boots, old jeans, and a dark red t-shirt.

Peter called back, straightening up a little more at the sight. “Hey, sis. Fun run out upstairs with Mom and Dynasty on the tube or what?”

“Well, it was an Alexis and Dominique Deveraux battle episode, actually.” Wanda answered a little regretfully.

“Aw, your favorite catfight duo! Why the exit then?” Peter questioned in return.

She gave Peter a slight accusatory look. “Well, you got Mom in a mood and she wanted to talk about my school next. She wanted to and I didn’t. Simple as that.”

“Well…actually I thought you’d still be at your dorm too really. Not that I’m complaining. Haven’t seen you in forever. Your classes get cancelled?” He asked.

“Well, when the metal roof got pulled off the main assembly hall, I think they decided to err on the side of caution.” She responded, rather deadpan.

“Understandable. You think you’ll still go back in the fall?” Peter questioned anyway.

“Don’t know. I haven’t really liked anything about that college yet. But I said I didn’t want to talk about it remember?” Her tone wasn’t cold to him, but still rather final.

He clearly wasn’t as intimidated by her as you were though as he didn’t miss a beat. “Well how about a movie with us? Me and (Y/N) were about to pick something.”

How true that statement was on Peter’s part, you weren’t really sure. But you still said nothing as Wanda just moved to sit on the other edge of the bed, almost as far from you as could be you noted. But Peter still between the both of you as she looked unimpressed. “Can it be something a little less bloody than your usual at least?”

He scoffed, teasing back. “Well I don’t keep your Bewitched and I Dream of Jeannie box sets down here you know.”

“Oh shut up.” Wanda retorted, but it was the first time you’d seen her really smirk. Though the siblings were clearly very different, that expression was also a brief resemblance you couldn’t miss.

“Wanda’s a bit of a sitcom connoisseur.” Peter commented for your benefit.

You took the chance to make eye contact with her at that, thinking that might be your in to finally start a real conversation. But she only looked away. If Wanda was unfriendly with strangers period, or actually just disliked you specifically, it was hard to know yet.

“Just pick something.” She finally replied to Peter though. “If I go back through the living room to try to go to my room right now, Mom’s just going to try and start an interrogation again.”

—————————

Hours later

“Hey, you keep moving around. Do you want a pillow?” Peter’s voice drifted from above.

You were pretty disoriented, for one strange moment just staring up at him and clueless to where you even were before your senses returned a little.

The sunlight was gone then. The only real light flickering from the television nearby that was now on some movie you didn’t remember the name of as you sat back up a little on his bed. Was this the third movie he’d put in? You hadn’t lasted very long at all had you?

“I can get on the couch,” You offered, awake enough then to at least remember his mother and sister were still around here somewhere. Though, when had Wanda left? You didn’t see her anymore and you didn’t even know what time it was.

“Seems kind of unnecessary,” Peter replied, in a quieter tone that caught your attention as you paused.

Was he inferring that you should just get under the blankets right here? With him? But sharing the bunk on the aircraft carrier wasn’t the same as being in his literal bed. Here in his family’s home where they already seemed to be rather distant with you at best.

They didn’t know you here. You had to remind yourself of that. They couldn’t know you didn’t spend the night at boys’ houses as habit. You didn’t get in their beds with them upon just meeting. Honestly, you couldn’t even remember the last time you’d slept somewhere besides the now destroyed mansion.

“Peter…” You didn’t know how to convey that concern really. You did want Magda and Wanda to like you eventually if you were being honest. You wanted them to understand. But you wanted Peter to understand too. Even though he’d said he was fine taking things as slow as you wanted, you felt it would still be all too easy to make him feel rejected without meaning to if you weren’t careful.

“I mean, we could both fit on my couch down here too,” He added, so close then that you were sure he was waiting for you to cross the rest of the small distance and kiss him.

And how could staring at each other in the dark, with the muffled sounds of some badly dubbed kung fu movie in the background now be bordering on romantic for you? Somewhere in the back of your mind you did think of all those stereotypical movie scenes all of the sudden. Two young people just in their own world, oblivious to all else.

“I don’t know if I’ve made the best impression on your family yet.” You tried to explain. “If I’m still in this bed with you the next time one of them comes down here…there is no way they’re going to believe we only watched movies and slept tonight.”

He tilted his head a little, yet already smiling. “And you assume they think someone like you would be that physically attracted to someone that looks and acts like me?”

“I do…and I am.” You answered though. Not trying to lead him on, but unable to help yourself either then as you did close that small distance to kiss him. You still disliked anytime he made those comments about somehow being underserving. He was far from it.

The little bit of tension you felt in return told you he was surprised too, but that quickly faded of course as he only pressed into it to kiss you back.

You had no intention of going too far or taking advantage of his family’s allowing you to stay here tonight however. It wouldn’t be right.

But you were still young as well, and it’d be a lie to say it didn’t feel good as he touched your face and your own hand moved onto his chest. It was something too how quickly the heat rose inside you. You could feel the outline of his body through his shirt as your hand trailed down.

He was warm, his abdomen firm against your moving hand. You kissed him harder actually as his own hand moved back behind your neck. But you needed to stop soon, either that or he needed to wear thicker clothing as your hand wandered further.

It was him that surprised you to finally pull back first though. Yet smiling at you again as he kept his face close.

Your breathing had already changed a little as you looked back to him before he glanced down. He raised an eyebrow at your hand now resting on the waistband of his shorts.

Realizing what he was looking at, you pulled your hand away, apologizing reflexively. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to…” Your mind fumbled a little. Your hand had just been running down. There was no real intent behind it, despite how it looked.

“You’re so funny. Seriously.” He said in that slight tone of amusement though. “Jumping out a plane one day, ready to sacrifice yourself samurai warrior style for your buddies, brave as shit.” He tilted his head, before then enclosing his hand around yours that you’d just pulled back. “But here you get flustered? I’m just a guy, (Y/N). Total nobody. There’s nothing to apologize for. Though I still don’t get it at all. I mean, why you like me like you do.”

“But you admit it then at least?” You tried to counter back, instead of arguing against his very real point that a new relationship could be more intimidating to you than a battlefield. “You admit that I like you. Instead of just telling me I’m making a mistake?”

“Yeah, I mean I guess even I can’t really make up a story of why you’d choose to drive all the way back to New York by yourself instead of bringing one of your friends here with you…unless you really wanted to be one on one with me.” But he just smirked once more, leaning in again to steal a quick additional kiss before pulling back away. “Guess you’re just that nuts.”

“Thanks.” You joked back.

“Takes one to know one.” He answered tauntingly, then sliding off the bed a little awkwardly as he put his feet back on the floor, albeit trying to only put weight on his good leg.

He didn’t have to go far though to reach a nearby closet, pulling a large blanket from it. He wadded it up a little, then tossing it to you. “Since you’re being modest though, you can sleep with Optimus Prime and Megatron tonight. But here, take one of my pillows too.”

In the dark, you couldn’t really make out what was on the blanket. Some sort of characters. You’d just have to take his word on it being Transformers before you caught the pillow that he threw to you next.

“As far as which couch you sleep on, your call. But Wanda always gets up, classic insomniac. I don’t think you want to tempt her with the opportunity to peek into your head if you stay in the living room. She hasn’t met you for real yet and probably still wants the background deets on you.”

“She’s another psychic?” At first you couldn’t remember if he’d already told you that or not. But no, you definitely would have recalled that. Yet maybe this was better? You wouldn’t have to prove anything if she could just see the truth in your mind of how you felt for her brother.

But Peter waved his hand in a ‘so-so’ type gesture. “I don’t think labels really work well with my sister. Yeah, she can get in people’s heads. But she’s not like your friends. She’s her own deal. It’s different. There’s a lot more that she can do. I’m just saying I wouldn’t advise messing with her is all.”

Whatever concerned look you must have given then was enough for him to quickly continue though, “But I’ll work on her the whole time while you’re back in New York. She just doesn’t know you yet. It’ll be fine!”

“Uh huh.” You said, not so confidently. “Guess I’m sleeping on this couch then.”

“A wise choice I think.”

“Of course, you could just be saying all this to get me scared enough to stay down here.”

“Oh, it’s both of course.” He smiled, watching you lay down on the couch even as he got into his bed. “And if you get cold, babe. I’m just a few feet away you know.”

Even from here, you were pretty sure he winked at you as you wrapped yourself up in that blanket he’d given you and stretched out on his couch. “If I go over there, I’m not coming back over here and I know it.”

“Or I could come over there,” he offered, only half jokingly of course.

But you just laid your head on the pillow, knowing you were trying to do the right thing at least. “Not enough room for your leg. You’d be uncomfortable.”

“If you say so, killjoy.”

You only smiled. “Goodnight, Peter.”

“Night, Glo-Worm.” He responded happily.

“Ugh,” You’d hoped he’d forgotten that by now, but apparently not. “Really have to fix that. There’s got to be a better codename for me.”

“Well we can’t all be Quicksilver. Sorry, I called dibs.”

“And we can’t all choose our nicknames out of a department store display case either.” You retorted.

“Ouch. Touché.”

He didn’t tease you anymore after that, but you could still feel his gaze on you as you closed your eyes again not long after. He was close enough that you also felt safe, even here in this new environment.

It was going to be hard to leave tomorrow, that much was certain. But at least you’d also know what you’d have to look forward to as soon as his cast was off again.

Maybe the next time you two fell asleep under the same roof, it’d be in a more neutral territory where you wouldn’t have to worry about his mother or sister’s judgement. Then you could hold him just like you wanted to. And it would be well worth the wait.

——————————

(Continued in next chapter here)

[red1culous]

Oh part 1

Part 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7

Standing in front of that imposing building you felt your resolve falter slightly. It looked as though nothing had changed in years. Even the grove of trees that lined the driveway, tall and graceful, seemed to be frozen in time.

One foot in front of the other, you coax yourself. 

You suck in a laboured breath and walk into the large courtyard stopping once again as you take in your surroundings. You had hoped to be able to come and go without notice but the gravel covering the courtyard was doing a great job in announcing your arrival. 

This is new, you think to yourself slightly amused at your naivety thinking things would have stood still just because you left.

You hadn’t been back in over a decade after that little incident and if anyone had told you you would be standing where you were right now, you would have laughed in their faces before smacking them across it. 

You walk through a smaller sylvan courtyard of blooming orange trees. In its centre you see a fish pond. Smiling you look into it and search for the red and gold koi you had put there when you built the pond as a birthday present for Tony. It swims up to the surface as if it recognises you and if it weren’t for the boxes you were lugging about you might have even bent down to poke at its mouth.

For a split second you consider turning around and walking, no, running away. Screw the freshly baked muffins that were precariously balanced on you. You could just head back to the shop and sell them off at half price. You didn’t need the huge commission that the Avengers had agreed to pay for them. No you definitely didn’t need it…

…you also definitely did not need your business partner chewing off your ear about passing off said commission. 

Think of all the rich people eating your food? you can hear her clawing voice bounce about in your head. 

In truth you knew that the Avengers could easily afford a better baker. The best pastry chefs this side of the globe would happily saw off their left foot to be able to cater for them. But Pepper rings your mobile phone, claiming she meant to actually dial the shop, to place an order…a significantly large one…one she knew you would not be able to resist.

“Shit…” you mumble under your breath seeing the cause of your stress marching towards you a huge smile on her face.

“Is that how you greet an old friend?” Pepper says holding onto your upper arms and leaning in to place air kisses on your cheeks.

“No of course not…it’s just…umm…” you stutter as your heart thumps so hard it rattles its ribcage.

“I know…it’s a little weird being back” she says hands still holding you in place as if she knew you were about to bolt right out of there.

You shrug chuckling a little. “It’s stupid isn’t it?” you adopt a wide smile which had always been effective when dealing with difficult customers.

“Don’t give me that look” she swipes at your chin, “and it’s not stupid either. Just so you know, we’re all on your side.” She adds giving you a sympathetic look and you calm slightly at her words. 

“Thanks Pep.”

“Ok you head in. I’ll meet you inside in a bit, you don’t mind do you? Tony ordered a grand piano and it’s just arrived…” she trails off.

“Sure, I know my way around” you say smiling as she squeezes your arms before letting you go. Of course you knew your way around. After all, this had been your home too for over 5 years. 

5 years of bliss with her. 

You mentally chide yourself. Nope, not gonna go back there. 

As you climb the white marbled steps that led to the main door of the mansion you steal a glance at the silent looming windows glinting in the early morning light. You hesitate a little seeing a shadow pass quickly across one of them. 

Shit. 

Shaking your head, yet again, you finally reach the large oak doors. The bright and zesty scent of your lemon muffins waft into the air and as you are about to ring the doorbell the solid doors open revealing a tanned and muscled man in a shirt way too small for his body.

“STEVEN!” you shout whisper as his face splits into a wide grin.

“Y/N! Wh-what are you doing here?” he almost engulfs you in a hug stopping at the very last moment realising your arms were occupied.

“I-I…umm, muffins?” you return his grin looking down at your packages.

His eyes widen a little before taking some of the boxes from you. He balances 3 with ease in one hand as he pulls you inside. “No I mean I knew we had ordered from you…,” he says walking with you towards the kitchen, “…but I thought you said you were going to send a runner or something.”

“Well I was but our regular guy called in sick” you say gently placing the boxes onto the kitchen island.

“Well isn’t that unfortunate” he eyes you winking when you catch his gaze.

You roll your eyes at him. “No Steve, it’s the very opposite of what you mean.”

“Oh come on Y/N,” he shuffles up beside you to bump your shoulder, “it’s been so long.”

“It has...but hey! I get to see you again!” you bump his shoulder back and he pretends like it hurts him. “Ok so these need to be consumed within 3 days…”

“Woah woah woah now…” he cuts you off, “…you’re talking like you’re about to leave.”

He gives you a sad pouting face. His crisply parted hair makes him look like a choirboy albeit a very well built one. You almost feel sorry for him. 

“Steve you know I don’t belong here” you say fingering the hem of your shirt.

Your answer seems to baffle him. He straightens up and stares at you for a moment narrowing his eyes slightly. “I’m skipping my morning run just to hang out with you, so you can at least spend some time with me.”

“Steve…” you protest before he cuts you off again.

He raises a hand in your face. “Not hearing any of it” he says grabbing yours and leading you out of the kitchen, “…we’re going to take a walk and you’re going to meet some of your family.” 

You knew there was no use arguing with him. The death grip he had on you meant that you couldn’t even try to make a dash for it. “Steve if she…” you add and he cuts you off. Third one in a row. This was getting ridiculous.

“Shh!” and that was final. He leads you into the giant library where that vapid painting by Albert Ryder still hung on the wall. You hated that massive eye sore and always wandered what Tony liked about it. You’d always pegged him for the colourful extravagant type and this painting was just so out of character.

“Sam! Look who’s here?” Steve’s voice bellows out interrupting your thoughts. Your eyes trail up the curving mahogany spiral stairs that Steve is looking at and onto another floor of bookcases that were bathed in sunlight pouring in through a round skylight on the ceiling. 

“OMG Y/N?!” Sam almost shrieks as he bounds down the steps at a dangerous pace to collect you in a massive bear hug. “What are you doing here?!” he adds still crushing you in his arms.

“I came with the cupcakes…” you giggle as he picks you up and twirls you around. “Th-They brought me as their plus one.”

He puts you down to really look at you as if committing you to memory. A large smile sits on his face. “I see the sass is still there?”

“It never really left, big guy” you raise an eyebrow smirking as he hugs you one more time. 

“Pleaseee tell me you’re here for the party?” he groans wrapping an arm around your shoulders looking at you hopefully. “Parties here have been so sad since you’ve been gone.”

You hum about to answer as out of nowhere two slender arms wrap around you. It knocks the wind out of you and you instinctively hug back letting the smell of cinnamon and spice invade your senses. “Wanda!” you yelp.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming” she squeals smacking you across the arm.

You giggle at her pout. “I didn’t know I was coming, malyshka.”

She grins at your use of the word. “Ok let’s go” she says to a chorus of groans. 

“Excuse me! You are not taking her any where!” Sam blurts out grabbing your free hand.

“Sorry guys but I found her first” Steve adds standing in front of you and placing an authoritative hand on your shoulder his fingernails biting into the flesh there. 

“Guys…” you cough nervously, “how about we take a walk…together” you say quietly and sigh in relief as everyone starts smiling and pestering you with questions again. 

I guess nothing’s really changed after all.

---

Tagging: @thewidowintheweb   @natasharomanoffismywife  @imnotasuperhero  @cybeleceto  @silverwing2522  @thelastavenger-3000  @peggycarter-steverogers  @rooskaya-yelena  @blackwidowromonoff  @lesbian-x-blackwidow  @nowthisisliving27   @izalesbean  @aaron-despair  @marvelfansince08love  @rileigh519   @wannabe-fic-reader  @hcartbyheart  @marvel-randomness  @thewitchandtheassassin  @username23345  @xixxiixx  @rebeliz777  @summergeezburr  @frostedfavesmain  @higherfurther-romanova​ @sapphicluxanna​

[scented-morker]

⇢˚⋆ ✎ life of the party

Party boy! Jay x female reader

Warning : drinking, partying, but I think that’s it

Word count : 2.05k

Overview: dating the university’s party animal means you have to attend as well, and one night you get a little too into it, ending up with your boyfriend simping for you while you’re wasted in his passenger seat 🥰

･:*:･ﾟ☆

As soon as Jisu turns onto the street you can hear the blaring music, a telltale sign that the "small get together" your boyfriend had convinced you to attend was not as small and casual as he made it sound. You probably should expect it by now, dating the class party animal comes with some not as normal girlfriend duties as say your friends who went to their boyfriends sporting games or went on study dates after school. Not that you and Jay didn't do those kinds of things, but it was a Friday night and half the towns "in crowd" had parents away on a company retreat.

Jisu pulls into the grassy area on the outside of the gate, shifting the car into park while you have her a grateful smile.

"Thank you for coming with me, I get it if you don't wanna be here since it's way bigger than I said"

"Y/n, honey I've done this before, I know your boyfriend and his friends, it'd be crazy of me to think it was going to be anything less than a circus in here. Why do you think I made you change out of that awful mom jean fit?"

You looked down at the expensive lavender dress she had let you borrow, it was a satiny texture and a little out of your comfort zone, but it hugged your figure well and all fear about being overdressed was now scratched as you saw the magnitude of the party.

You sent her a sheepish smile, glad to have a friend with brain cells when it came to parties at least, she copied your homework every morning before class

You step out of the car, thanking past you for choosing the white go-go boots on your feet instead of strappy heels at the sound of your friend squealing as her heels sink into the wet grass. It makes you both walk faster, and before you know it you're walking through the door, instantly being sucked into the giant crowd of bodies. Jisu takes your hand before you can get separated, leading you to the kitchen.

"You," she mixes random bottles set out on the counter into two red solo cups, taking one herself and then shoving the other into your hand, "are going to have so much fun tonight"

You raise your eyebrow at her but take a sip anyway, confused when it doesn't taste disgusting.

"Can you make more of these?" You excitedly ask, knowing this is a much better alternative to the gross keg everyone else was drinking out of.

"Yeah, if you finish it and still want another one I can, but honestly with the amount of stuff in there and your ahem, lightweight tendencies, you might be gone before you finish that"

You give her a playful glare but listen anyway, taking smaller sips as not to chug it all and ruin your brain for the rest of the night.

She heads out to find her other friend Yuna, who she heard was here thanks to the drunk freshman babbling about her smile, and you head out to look for your boyfriend.

You make your journey into the crowd of dancing bodies, stopping to dance with some of the acquaintances you've made at school. Eventually the music changes and you continue your journey, spotting Jay over by the wall, popping a sucker in his mouth as he heads over to where his friend Heeseung is standing.

A surge of excitement goes through you when you see him, the same emotion you get every time you're reminded that he's yours, intensified by the atmosphere of the party and whatever was in your now nearly empty cup. His black hair shone under the party lights and the smirk he wore gave you an adrenaline rush.

'That's mine' you thought smugly as you walked past some girls that were staring at him, giving them an obvious side eye to let them know you had seen them checking out your boyfriend. They averted their looks as you continued your confident stride up to Jay.

"Babe!"

He spotted you coming up to him and his entire demeanor changed, the smirk now a full on smile and he practically ran towards you. Apparently he was just as excited to see you as you were him.

"You made it!!"

"To your little get together" you put sarcastic air quotes around your words while giving a laugh, "yeah I did"

"I'm sorry babe, I should have known it would get this wild" he really should have, but you let it slide because he looks genuine with his apology.

He finally let's go of the hug, sliding his right arm around your waist and looking down at you, seeming to just notice your outfit.

"Wow, you look, wow"

You let out a giggle, pulling the collar of the white shirt he wears under his black tee, and he lets you bring his face down to yours as you connect your lips in a kiss.

You're still giggling when you pull away.

"Thank you"

He laughs at you, grabbing the cup from your hands and checking the level of liquid.

"Yeah how much of this have you had babe," he asks, although the look on his face tells you he already knows.

"Just that one!!"

He gives you the cup back, ruffling your hair and muttering something about "lightweight" before sliding his arm back around you, pulling you with him as he goes back to his group of friends.

You stand with him as he talks to Jake, something about dancing you think, you weren’t really paying attention. Your focus was on his chest, where your hand was fiddling with the long chain hanging off of his neck. You don’t know why you were so transfixed with it, and at this point you were so far gone you didn’t have the brain power to think about it.

You took another sip from your cup, finding it empty and pouting down at the plastic. You tugged on Jay’s chain lightly to get his attention, lifting your cup up to let him know where you were going. He nodded his head once in understanding and turned back to his friends.

You once again had to cross the slew of sweaty, dancing bodies to get to the kitchen, and you once again stopped to dance, partially forgetting what you were even doing in the first place.

Maybe you didn’t need another drink after all. Another drink! That’s what you were doing!

You smile to yourself, eyes turning into round circles as you got back to your original plan.

You’re too lazy to try and make your own drink or find Jisu to make you one, so you just grab a bottle, pouring until your cup is halfway full and then heading back out to Jay.

When you get there he’s laughing at something Sunghoon said, and you get back into your spot on his side, hands finding their way back to his chain.

“Welcome back babe”

You find yourself giggling at the affectionate nickname, leaning into his chest.

“Okay, you” he’s chuckling slightly to himself while he speaks, a raspy sort of laugh that makes your stomach do flip flops, “have had enough of this”

He takes a sip of your cup, almost coughing up a long immediately after before looking at you like you’re insane.

“This is straight vodka”

His friends break out into laughter and you join in with them, enjoying Jays unfortunate action.

“Oops”

He smiles at you before setting your drink down, and quick as lightning he’s picking you up, spinning you around while teasing you for trying to ‘drink like a big kid’, your endless laughter right in his ear the entire time.

When he finally stops you explain yourself, “I was just too lazy to mix anything and beer is gross”

The group laughs again, and then Jay starts telling them goodnight, doing the weird bro hug thing they did after every party and saying he’s going to ‘take this one home before she starts dancing on tables’ which honestly, now that you think of it does sound pretty fun.

You wave goodbye as your boyfriend leads you out, shooting a text to Jisu that you’re leaving with Jay and won’t need a ride home so she doesn’t freak out when she can’t find you.

He’s parked a few feet away from the driveway, surprisingly not blocked in by other vehicles.

He goes to the passenger side ahead of you, opening the door, presumably to let you in, but you take a slight detour.

“Dancing on tables sounds fun, but you made us leave”

He stares at you while you climb up on the hood of his car, slightly shaking his head and letting out a laugh when you start doing the Macarena on his hood.

“Wait wait!! C’mere”

You call him over, and he immediately comes, the passenger side door still wide open as he leaves it to come see you.

“This is gonna be so cool, I’m finally taller than you”

He looks at you with a raised eyebrow, but the loving smile is still there.

“C’mere”

You notion him closer, and he obliges, eyebrows shooting up in surprise when you attack him with a flurry of kisses all over his face, laughing before eventually joining together at the lips.

He meant it to be a short peck, but when he goes to pull away you don’t let him, holding on tighter to his collar and chasing his lips.

By now you’ve sat down on the hood, abandoning your standing position as you slide further down the car to be closer to him, and his hands rest on your waist before he’s finally able to pull away, although the pout on your face let’s him no you aren’t happy about it.

“What has gotten into you tonight” he laughs, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear while you grip onto his biceps.

“I don’t knowwww!!!” You whine, leaning back on the car, “you just look really good tonight. Did you know that? Like as soon as I saw you I just died, and I really want to mess up your hair”

His cheeks stay the same shade of peach that they previously were, although the tips of his ears light up and he smiles down at the floor.

“I mean you can still mess up my hair, but I’m not making out with you in my friends driveway while you’re wasted”

You give him a frown, wanting to deny his accusations but realizing that’s exactly what you wanted to do.

“Fine” you huff out, sliding off of the car and letting him lead you around to the still open door.

He walks around to the other side, sliding in the drivers seat and starting the music, Tattoos Together by Luav floating out of the speakers as he pulls out of the drive.

“I don’t want to leave you yet, can we not go home”

He looks over at you for a little second eyes on the road kids before giving a little nod.

“How about we go get some coffee, sober you up a little, and then we can go to my house and you can show me the star shapes you like”

You excitedly agree, giving a little “yay” as he turns toward the 24 hour coffee place, although your brain can’t let his small transgression slide, and you launch into a speech about “they’re actually called constellations Jay. C-o-n-s- tellstions, idk I can’t spell, but they aren’t star shapes”

He smiles at your rant, purposefully having said it to get you to correct him, laughing while you give a very dumbed down and partially incorrect explanation of how stars are formed.

He wasn’t sure why you curled up in a ball in his passenger seat drunk babbling about astronomy at 2am made him realize it, but he was oh so in love with you, and there was no going back from the blooming in his heart when you laughed at yourself for saying something completely wrong, your hand latching around his and shaking it in your amusement.

Yeah, Jay was in deep.