#I don't know if I even left it on the porch for two minutes in hindsight

[stopfunkinwmyheart]

[bi-writes]

Is it possible for Simon's MOB request him to dress up as Ghost for Halloween? and of course she will wear whatever Simon want her to

But if you don't want to bring Ghost into MOB's universe, just skip this. We completely understand 😉

it's about time, huh?

mail-order bride (18+)

when simon comes home after a long two weeks away, he's pleasantly surprised by what waits for him. there's carved pumpkins lined up on the porch ascending up the steps, and there's candles lit inside, making them flicker. along the porch railing, there's garlands with orange lights, and there's a black feathered wreath on the door. simon smiles under his mask, even wider once he sees the cats staring at him from the window. their tails are swishing, and he waves at them before putting the key into the door and coming inside.

it smells like pine. there's candles on everywhere, making the entire living room glow a soft orange.

all the throw pillows are different. they've been changed. they are made of velvet and linen, with some of them having fall prints on them like black cats and pumpkins and autumn-colored checkers. there's pumpkin motifs and leaves everywhere, like all the colors everywhere have been changed to browns, reds, and sage greens. you poke your head out from behind the fridge, smiling as you see simon by the door, taking off his boots and jacket. he showered before coming back from work; you can tell because he's not wearing the skull balaclava, and he has regular clothes on.

"hey," you greet him softly, waving. "you're in early."

"couldn't wait," simon murmurs. "had to come see my girls."

you snort, rolling your eyes, but you shut the fridge before coming into the living room. you wrap your arms around his neck easily, tugging him close as you snatch his mask off and kiss him softly.

"i missed you, simon," you whisper between kisses, and he wraps those big arms around you tight, cradling the back of your head as he kisses you back.

"i missed ya more."

you giggle when he picks you up a little, turning you in a little circle before setting you back down. it baffles you how easily he takes your weight; barely even grunts, just smooths his hands down your thighs and picks you up with that wicked, crooked smile.

"loved wot ya did wit' the house, luv," simon adds, chuckling low. your eyes light up, and you look around, beaming at the cozy couch you've made up with the new blankets and pillows you had bought. you giggle, looking back at him, cupping his cheeks to bring him closer to you.

"the kettle's on. why don't i make you some tea? we have so much to catch up on," you coo, and simon blushes, easily, and you giggle when he tries to look away. "simon!"

he slips a hand up your skirt to stop your laughing. you gasp, your breath caught in your throat, and simon hums as he kisses along your jaw, chapped lips sucking at the skin until you're liquid in his arms.

"mmm...a cuppa sounds nice, baby," simon chuckles in your ear, and you nod, pulling away slowly. he squeezes your ass gently before letting you go, kissing under your ear before he collapses onto the couch, sinking into it. he grabs one of the thick new blankets thrown over it, and you come into the room a few minutes later with his mug of tea and a big smile on your face. "oh, ya didn't have ta do tha'...i-i meant--"

"i know what you meant, simon," you say softly, setting it down next to him. "i wanted to, okay?"

he smiles a little, nodding, and then he reaches for your hand to pull you into his lap.

"okay, hafta catch up, luv," simon sighs. "tell me wot happened while i was gone. want ta know everythin'."

you shrug, leaning back against his chest.

"did a lot of shopping," you tell him. "a lot. sorry about the bills, simon."

"don't worry about the bills," he says firmly, and you smile a little when he takes your hands and squeezes them gently. "tell me more."

"i bought mostly stuff for the house," you smile. "all the halloween stuff. i left a few pumpkins for us though. that we can do together."

"mmm. i'd like tha'."

"and i bought...some halloween costumes," you finish, looking over your shoulder at him. he raises a brow, grinning, and he tilts his head to the side.

"you wanna dress up, tha' it, luv?"

"well...i bought a lot of costumes for me," you continue. "i...i was hoping...that..."

simon nudges you a little. you swallow, squeezing his hands, and he kisses your shoulder gently.

"well...i was hoping you could put on your..." you clear your throat, "i mean...you could be...ghost...and i-i could be--"

"ya want me ta wear my mask?" simon asks, leaning in a little. he puts his face into the crook of your shoulder, and you shiver a little. "want me to be ghost...not simon...tha' it, baby?"

you can't meet his eyes. you shrink a little in his lap, and he buries his face further, sucking gently on the curve of your jaw.

"woteva ya want, swee'eart," simon mutters. "can have woteva ya want."

"simon--" you gasp, arching your back, and he wraps a strong arm around your middle and holds you against him.

"shhh--" simon quiets you. "'s olright. why don't ya wait 'ere for me, aye? sit right there, lookin' so pretty..." he wraps a big hand around your throat, holding you there, squeezing gently. "why don't ya sit there, and i'll go put somethin' on, and we can practice?"

"p-practice?"

"tha's right," simon licks his lips. "got to see if our costumes will look nice together, don't we? got to make sure we match."

"y-yeah..."

"will ya wait 'ere, swee'eart? wait right 'ere for me?"

"yes. yeah. yes, simon." you're breathless, shaking practically, and simon tucks you against the couch before grabbing his bag and heading into the bedroom. he gives you a wink before the door shuts, and you put a hand over your chest and breathe deeply as you settle there.

your husband never fails to make your head spin. he occupies your every thought; the way he loves, the manner in which he takes care of you, the insatiable look in his eyes whenever his eyes are on you. never in your life have you ever been more at the center of someone else's world. never in your life has every word that leaves your mouth been so akin to some kind of revered gospel.

everything you say matters. nothing that you do can be wrong. nothing that you feel is ever dismissed, nothing that you want is ever not given to you, everything in your life is sunshine and rainbows and fuck, he's so fucking hot--

your brain goes fuzzy when the bedroom door opens again. it's someone you don't recognize, not really.

even when you've visited him on base, he somehow still maintains himself as simon in your presence. when you look into those eyes, you always recognize them. they are soft, they are kind, they are the ones you have always known.

whoever stands in front of you isn't someone you've met yet. he's taller, somehow. maybe it's the way he stands. feet spread apart in those steel-toed boots, cargos snug around his massive legs. your eyes start low, taking in the holsters that are positively squeezing his big thighs to his waist. mmm, his solid middle. that place that never gives, that feels full and warm when you've fed him a nice meal, now he uses it as his own personal armor. he wears a windbreaker under his tact vest, but he's pushed the sleeves up to his elbow, his tattoos on display. they've never looked so right on him until now. you follow the line of his chest to his face.

his face. his second skin. you've seen this mask before, that dirty skull that he never washes properly that frames his eyes, making him sunken and dead. he's smeared eye-black on under it, and his eyes are voids. they sink, the whites barely peeking through, and as you look at him, really look at him, you don't recognize what you see.

he's so big. he's never looked bigger. he takes up the entirety of the doorway, and you shift on the couch as you take in all of him this way.

it's like seeing someone new. it's like being married to two different men. it's simon, surely, somewhere under there, but whoever you're in the presence of isn't simon.

"hmm..." you giggle nervously, standing up. he narrows his eyes a little, flexing his hands in and out of fists, and you point to the bedroom behind him. "i'm...i'm gonna go get the costumes i bought. and...and we can pick one for me."

he blinks, but he says nothing. he walks slow, past you, and you hold his eyes as he does, and he holds yours. you turn to keep eye contact as he takes a seat on the couch, spreading his legs wide, resting his hands on his thighs. you swallow, nervous under his intense stare, and you hurry towards the bedroom to fish the costumes out of the closet.

you look at yourself in the mirror. you look frazzled. your entire body feels hot, too hot, and your palms are clammy. you wipe your face gently before going back into the living room, where ghost is waiting exactly where you left him.

it looks like he hasn't moved an inch.

you hold up a few of the hangers, showing off the outfits on them.

"o-okay, i got a few. some of them are...kind of dumb," you laugh nervously. you hold up a stupid nurse outfit. it's a short little dress that would show off your thighs and way too much cleavage, and ghost considers it for a few long moments before he shakes his head. you clear your throat, nodding. "yeah, this one was dumb."

you toss it aside, holding up another one. it's a fitted bodysuit with a matching witch's hat, and ghost shakes his head at this one as well. you toss it aside to show him the next. he turns down every single one. little red riding hood. alice in wonderland. even the cute little corset angel dress that you really thought would work.

you play with your fingers nervously, looking at the costumes that you've tossed over a chair. you frown a little, curling your toes, the picture of quietly frustrated as you think about what to say next. ghost sits there, unbothered, staring at you as if he's waiting for something. he blinks slow.

"i-i don't understand what you want," you whisper. "i...i thought you'd like at least one of them, i mean..." you run a hand over your face, shrugging. "what do you want me to wear, nothing? i--"

ghost tilts his head to the side, making your breath catch in your throat.

what do you want me to wear, nothing?

your lips part, and you take a few deep breaths. nothing. he wants you to wear nothing. simon--well, simon would say differently. simon would tell you to wear whatever you wanted. he'd tell you that you would look beautiful in every single one, and you think maybe he'd ask you to wear the nurse outfit just to be cheeky.

not ghost. ghost doesn't like the theatrics. ghost doesn't care for the game. he doesn't chase, everything he wants comes to him, or he makes it come to him. everything he desires ends up between his teeth, and that includes the woman that's wearing his fucking ring standing in front of him.

you take a timid step forward. he narrows his eyes under the mask, watching curiously, and when you make your way between his legs, he stares up at you, right into your eyes. you smile.

"you might be a ghost, but you're still my husband," you say softly. "so will you do the honors for me?"

ghost hums lowly. he reaches for you, gripping the base of your shirt, and he lifts it over your head with ease. he tugs your shorts down along with your panties as you unclasp your bra, and finally you see the flicker of something in those eyes when your tits fall in his line of sight.

there's a man under it all, as much as he would like to pretend like there isn't.

you lean over, putting your hands on either side of him on the back of the couch before straddling him. he grunts as you sit down, his hands finding your waist, and you lean forward enough to press your forehead to his.

ghost, like your simon, is insatiable. as soon as he has you this close, his hands are wandering. gloved hands slide up your slides and cup your tits, thumbs smoothing over your nipples until they're puckered and hard. once he's satisfied that you're shuddering enough, his hands fall to your thighs, spreading them apart even more before he grips both sides of your ass and squeezes, spreading them apart. the tease of his thumb over your ass makes your brain restart, and if he wasn't wearing the mask, you have a feeling you'd seek a sickening grin come over his face.

your mouth falls open, short breaths leaving you, and your eyes flutter closed when his hand slips between your thighs and cups you, big palm swallowing your folds as he puts two fingers to your clit and makes a nasty squelch as he moves them in firm circles.

"olready so wet..."

you squeak with surprise when he flips you over. your back slams against his chest, and it arches away from him as he plants your heels on either side of his thighs and wraps an arm around your middle to hold you against him.

"oh--ha--"

you reach back and grip the back of his neck for support as he puts his hand back where it belongs. two gloved fingers move in achingly slow circles through your folds, but like a teasing shit, he only skims your clit every so often. he leans in, humming against your ear, and he smacks his lips under the mask as he watches from over your shoulder.

"is it time?" he rasps against your cheek. "mmm...y'r husband neglects ya, huh?"

"w-what? no..."

"'s olright," ghost huffs. "i know. even pretty girls need to get fucked, tha's the truth, innit?"

"nnghh--"

"even sweet, pretty girls deserve a firm hand. don't hafta be so gentle...ya don't want gentle, aye? not wot ya need."

"just need you," you whine, and he paws at your tits hard as he sinks two fingers into you, right down to the last knuckle. you cry with relief, bucking your hips up against his hand, and he shushes you, shaking his head. ghost is simon's nasty alter ego, and you just want more and more and more of it.

"relax," he chuckles. fuck, he's so smug, it's infuriating and appealing all the same. "just need ta get ya nice and soft...need ya to open up fer me. won't be easy, takin' me."

like always with your husband, the one thing that is easy is not thinking at all. you sink, relaxing into his grip until there is no resistance from you. you don't have to have any thoughts when it comes to him. you can just be in the moment. you can float on this plane of nonexistence, this place that is just for you where you can just be and enjoy and think of nothing but how good you feel at this exact moment. he's got such big fingers--they curl, petting your insides, coaxing you to make all sorts of soft, pretty noises that just make him more desperate. he's hard against your ass; he chubbed up as soon as you sat in his lap, but now it's an unmistakable feeling.

he is everything you have ever wanted. he is more than you deserve. for your entire life, nothing has ever felt more precious. nothing has ever been more special. no one in the entire world has ever been so pervasive and demanding and thoughtful and wonderful, and you love him so much, you think you might die if you don't have him--

"i know," his voice brings you back. you're crying, tears wetting your face. you're shivering, holding onto him, babbling nonsense that sounds a lot like i love you and please and more. "i know, baby--it's so good, innit? feels so good, look at ya...look at ya, 's oll mine, 's mine, everythin' tha' y'are is mine."

everything you are is mine. skin, bone, and all.

"i'm gonna--no!" you seize when his fingers leave you. you miss them, turning around in his lap, cupping his cheeks, shaking your head, desperate desperate desperate. "don't take it from me, don't--!"

he hums. deep within his chest, something you feel trickling up his throat as your hands slide down his neck. you paw at the tactical vest, pulling on the straps, but ghost is something you cannot move. he's rigid, solid. nothing about him gives. even hard, pressed up against your cunt, he loses no control.

"gonna be good?" he asks. "hmm? gonna be good, and let me take care o' this, aye? can't 'ave ya coming on my fingers, swee'eart. first time ya come tonight, 's gonna be on my cock, y'hear tha'? say you hear me."

"i hear you--"

"tha's good, good, i like tha', like when ya do wot i ask. 's easy, innit? easy ta do wot i tell ya."

you can see those eyes. you're in love with those eyes. it doesn't matter how much he paints around them or how many layers he covers his face with, you will never forget them. you will know them when you close your eyes for the last time, and you will know them when you are born again, and you will spend eternity looking for them until you find the ones you know belong to you.

simon will wear a million faces, and you will know each and every one of them, just like you know this one, even the one you can't see.

simon makes other men so inferior. ghost makes them infinitely obsolete.

"so pretty, i've got such a pretty wife," ghost mutters. "did good, didn't i? gettin' myself such a nice girl. a messy girl." you're drooling as he lifts his hips, undoing his jeans with one wet, gloved hand. the zipper comes down, and your eyes fall as you watch him shove the denim just below his balls. "fuck--so full, baby, huh? won't last if y'keep lookin' at me tha' way, close y'r mouth."

you giggle a little. it escapes you without you even thinking, and when ghost tilts his head to the side, you're caught in it. he's about to fuck you for the very first time. he's about to eat, like he's never eaten before. you're about to lose your fucking mind, that's for certain, and nothing about it scares you.

simon might not be here right now, but ghost still knows what you are to him. he's going to take care of you. he loves you.

you cradle his head when he turns you in his lap. you clutch onto the back of his mask, lowering yourself in his arms as you press your lips to his over the mask. your shuddering breaths make him groan, and he hisses when you use one hand to slip his cock between your thighs, rocking your hips to coat him in slick. the bulbous head catches between your ass, and you lick over his jaw as you draw your hips back, meeting his eyes again.

you never want to know another man. even if they take him from you, even if someone manages to put a bullet in him, you'll never be with anyone else. this is it, the end all be all.

"not supposed t'think," ghost tells you. "y'r too pretty t'think."

your lashes flutter, and he grins under the mask.

"just the tip?" he teases. you press your forehead to his, shaking a little, and you nod your head. you take it nice and slow. he hitches you high up on his lap, on your knees, and you're a whimpering mess when he pushes the fat tip inside of you. you rock your hips, feeding yourself more, and ghost leans his head back when he feels you squeezing and squeezing and squeezing as you take just a little more of him, little by little. "don't need ta work ya open when y'r cunt's beggin' for it, innit?"

you squeeze his broad shoulders, leaning all your weight on him as you sit down on his cock. both of you groan, finally one, and you push his mask up to seal a kiss as you feel him throbbing as he touches deep.

"i love you so much," you whisper between kisses, "but i've been waiting t-too long for this."

"don't worry," ghost mutters. "there'll be time f'nice 'n sweet later. i know wot y'need."

and fuck, he certainly does.

ghost has you propped up underneath him when he fucks you for the first time. he shoved a few pillows under your hips, and the angle has your eyes in the back of your head as he indulges himself. when he puts a gloved hand low on your tummy and presses, you see it--fuck, it's good.

he's hitting that spot again and again now. the groans that slip out, the ones he can't control, have you squeezing his cock every time he meets your hips, and he has to grab onto your thighs to keep you from shaking yourself too hard. his balls are heavy, fat, smacking against your ass with a wet sound that's making it hard to focus. you go in and out, and every time that skull mask comes into your vision again, you feel a new wave of shudders make it's way down your spine, curling your toes.

"tha's it, love--" ghost praises. "ughh, knew ya'd be so good f'me. knew ya'd take it like this. open up--yeah, yeah--fuck--" he spits into his glove, nasty, and when he thumbs at your clit, you mewl. your back nearly lifts off the couch and the pillows you rest on, but ghost just cackles, pressing you back down, his palm a nice weight on your tummy as he pushes down again just right and-- "oh--fuck--there it is..."

your orgasm is unlike any other you've ever had. for a split second, the world is nothing but stars. your vision hazes, white spots dancing, and when you blink back to consciousness, ghost has slowed his hips, his hands gripping your hips as he watches the mess between your legs quickly wet his cargos. he hums low, eyes wild, and he keeps fucking up into you suddenly, a bit quicker, renewed vigor.

"want anotha one," ghost hisses, and you babble as you try and tell him i-i can't, never been able to--but he's still going, still running his big thumb in nice circles, and when he draws your legs up and over his shoulders and leans his weight on you, you cry with relief when something softer but just as lovely hits you head-on. ghost gets down onto his elbows, faltering, and when you feel his cum spurt, you shake at how good it feels to be surrounded by your husband, inside and out, the start of him and end of you blurred between tangled limbs and shared breaths and the wedding band you can feel him wearing underneath his gloved hand as he intertwines your fingers and squeezes.

your body is liquid. it seeps back into the couch, melding to the cushions underneath you, and you smile up at your husband as he smooths his hands over your face and chuckles low and breathless.

"y'r so beautiful," he murmurs, and you tell him the same, because it's true. you touch your nose to his, breathing him in, and when you laugh, he asks you what it is.

"i just..." you laugh again. "hmm...why did we wait so long?"

you laugh together, soft and quiet, and when you kiss him, he's gentle. he sits up enough to throw his gear off, the tact vest falling to the floor, and you toss his mask behind you so you can scratch at his short hair and kiss his cheeks.

"so..." you bite your lip, and he gives you all his attention.

"wot is it, baby?"

"you...wanna go again?"

[4pfsukuna]

She want a big dawg

Inspo: that trend on tiktok and yall know the one. Somebody made a edit to him to this and i seen the vision. Plus the girlies been saying they tired of smutt so

warning: its purely fluff; 865 word

Being ex military Terry always felt like he was on guard— being a light sleeper, always scoping the scenery out, early morning 6 mile bike rides but there was just something about you that put him at ease.

You were so soft, gentle, always finding the humor in something even if you did have a bit of a dark sense of humor. The scent of coconut always lingered on your smooth skin and your lips stayed pink and glossy no matter how much you licked them. 

The way you thought you could command him to do something even being nearly half his size when all he had to do was give you complete eye contact and you would fold like a lawn chair. All you had to do was bat those pretty brown eyes up at him and that man would build you a house anything to keep that smile on your face.

And in the evenings he loves sitting on the porch with you more specifically he’ll come find you wherever you are in the house, wrap his large arms around you and carry you listening to you rant about your day, or whatever book you were reading or whatever you see on social media.

“She dont want no puppy she want a big dog” you sing for the fourth time since he picked you up holding you with just one arm as if you weighed nothing and he just chuckles at you when you place a bunch of kisses on his face.

“You better chill before you start something mama” he leaves a peck on your lips watching the way you look at him with so much love and admiration like he hung the sun moon and stars in the sky just for you.

Ignoring him you squeeze him tighter in a hug loving the way he kisses the top of your head pulling you closer inhaling his scent feeling the humidity kiss your skin the minute he walks to the porch swing. down south was always warm but nothing could beat the warmth of your embrace.

“Babe, you know how much I love you?” You smile up at him tightening your legs around his waist and he holds your face in both of his large palms pecking your forehead, then nose and finally lips.

“What silly little tic tac trend you trying to trick me into now?” He asks, reading you like an open book watching the way your jaw drops. He knew when you were sweet talking him and what for too— you had been singing that song that one specific part for the past two days. 

“Its tik tok! And what you think you know me or something?” You playfully scrunch your face up pushing your long dark curls that fell from your bun out your face. He chuckles, angling his head down to you watching you squirm instantly. No matter how long yall was together it was certain things he did that still gave you butterflies and made you nervous.

“Baby girl don't insult me, of course i know you” and he pulls you back to him tightly closing his eyes enjoying the sound of nature as day turns into evening. “And i know if you keep pulling away from me imma have to really pin you down”

Terrys love language actually was physical touch, loved having you in his arms, carrying you, waking up in the morning to you still cuddled up to him or when he’s making breakfast and your little arms wrap around his waist grumbling about him leaving you and the bed being cold without him. Or when it’s your turn to cook dinner and he steals kisses knowing you don’t like to be bothered when you cook, always successfully fishing when you swat at him for trying to steal food from the pot. So who were you to deny this time as if your love language isn't spending time together.

You finally settle in his arms, head on his chest yet halfway on his upper arm and he sinks further into the swing slowly rocking it back and forth, left arm running up and down your back unaware of your antics until something catches his ear.

“She dont want no puppy” the music plays and you try to sit up as if he made empty threats tightening his biceps around your shoulders, he definitely was not against pinning you down. “She want a big dawg”

Opening his eyes he looks down at you watching how contempt you look with him squeezing tightly around you not even bothered in the slightest only looking up when you see him looking at you through the camera.

“Ok ok im done go ahead put your old man music on” you giggle happily. you got your video and his muscles were wrapped tightly around you, even placing a kiss on his bare chest before laying back down. Ignoring your slick comment he puts on redbone by childish gambino and like clockwork your hands start running over his back and arms slowly and softly turning him into putty, unraveling his muscles slowly putting him at ease like you always do. 

[monster-disaster]

[tentacle] The monster under the bed

tentacle!monster x human!Reader Good to know: somnophilia, a bit of dub-con

Summary: Your aunt's house is not as empty as you thought.

A/N: For kinktober 2023, I have a new town full of monsters. Here is the masterlist.

The change in the air is thick and heavy after you leave the Welcome to Grimbrook sign behind you. You feel it in your core. It's cold and silent. For a second, everything goes quiet, and the time seems to stop. The rumbling of your car gets muffled, and the colors of the lush, green forest at your sides fade into a milky fog flowing above the ground. You can't see the tall mountains and their sharp edges in the distance anymore. The clear blue sky turns gray, and you can't find the sun anymore, either. Just a few dim rays shine down on the road in front of you, showing your way to the village next to the sea.

As you get closer, you can smell the salty scent of the water even through the closed windows of your car. It's heavy in your nostrils. The sound of the waves gets louder too. From the top of the uphill, you can see the village with its old stone buildings and the sea behind everything. It seems colorless, merging into the dark sky at the horizon. It is beautiful and terrifying at the same time. There is something in Grimbrook that you can't pinpoint but freezes your insides. The only light you can see comes from a lighthouse at the edge of a cliff. It emits a soft, rhythmic beam of yellow light that cuts through the heavy fog, casting eerie shadows over the still village. Seagulls glide through the mist above the white seafoam, waving across the dark surface.

"Okay," you hum, forcing your eyes to go back to the GPS on your phone. The blue line clearly shows your way to the house you have to reach before night falls. It leads you out of the center of the villages until you reach a small suburb with Victorian houses standing in a long row with grand iron gates and gardens.

The monotone voice of the GPS informs you when you reach the right house, and after sitting in your car for a few more minutes, you have no other option but to get out and make your way up to the porch. The wooden planks creak under your steps as you look around a bit better. The house is old, with tall walls, characterful windows, and a dark green door with a golden knocker in the middle. It's cold in your hold as you knock it against the door.

You don't get an answer, though.

The door opens, and you find yourself facing a narrow foyer with stairs on the right side. Pictures and paintings hang on the walls in dark wood and golden frames. You can see the entrance of the kitchen at the end. And on your left side, there is an arch that leads you to the living room.

"Hello?" You break the silence. Your voice is hoarse and quiet. You have to force your legs to move and not turn back to your car and leave this place immediately. "Somebody?" Your gaze lands on a small table in the corner next to the entrance door. There is a letter with your name on it.

Dear Cat, I'm sorry I can't be here when you arrive. Make yourself at home, and we will talk tomorrow. Delilah

"Great," you sigh, letting the paper fall back onto the surface of the small table.

For a second, you think about searching for a hotel or something similar to spend the night, but to be honest, it doesn't sound much better either. You know you should leave the town to feel better, but it's not an option. So you close the door behind you and wander further into the house.

You got a call a few weeks ago about your aunt you met long years ago. She died, and now you have a house. You can keep it. You can sell it. Whatever you want.

The house is old, with a lot of wood, dark colors, and golden details. There are still newspapers from months ago on the coffee table in the living room. The rug under you is faded and thin. The floor creaks every now and again. There are two rooms and a bathroom upstairs. The bigger room is still occupied with your aunt's belongings. The scent of her perfume still lingers in the air. You remember her when you were a kid. She came to your grandmother's funeral, and you never saw her again. Nobody really talked about her in the family. The only things you know are that she was kind but preferred her own company above everything else. She lost her husband in her late twenties but stayed in Grimbrook, barely leaving the town.

The guestroom is much more bare than the other parts of the house. A bed in the middle with two nightstands and a lamp. There is a drawer in front of it and a mirror on the wall. The window is slightly open, letting in the cold autumn breeze. You have a view of the street from here. It's calm and empty. The only reasons you know you are not the only person in the town are because you can see a few cars here and there and a dog barking in the distance. The fog is thick and heavy. You can't see the end of the street through it.

After wandering around the house some more, you decide to call your friend until you have no other option but to change and try to get some sleep.

Climbing up on the bed in the guest room, you settle under the thick covers. The scent of the linen is faded and mixed with dust and the night air coming through the window. It's dark outside, not counting a few lamps on the street. Their orange lights filter into the room. And everything is quiet. So quiet that your ears almost start to ring. You are not used to it. You live in the city with constant noises.

When sleep takes you, it's restless and everything but relaxing. You fidget and turn, trying to find a comfortable position as you balance between the darkness and the real world. Your head feels just as foggy as Grimbrook, and at some point, you can't decide if you are dreaming or not.

You are on your back, one arm on your stomach, and the other is next to your body. The autumn breeze caresses your skin, moving up from your feet to your ankles and calves. Shiver runs through your spine at the feeling. You want to reach out for the blanket, but even though your arms move, they do not obey your command. Something pets the thin skin of your wrist. It's soft and barely noticeable. You feel your muscles stretch as you reach up to the headrest of the bed, but you don't even know why. The cold moves up further on your legs. It curls around your flesh, spreading you in the middle of the bed. Your heels dig into the mattress. Your body tenses when your limbs don't do as you want. A frown deepens between your brows.

"What?" A hoarse grunt leaves your lips. When you open your eyes, you meet darkness, and you are not sure if you are really awake or not. Your eyelids are heavy, and not even a second later, you fall back asleep again.

The bottom of your pajama slips down on your legs. The waist stretches around your parted legs. Something slides up on your stomach under your t-shirt. It is slick and soft. A gasp echoes in your room when it flicks your nipple. The thing curls around the flesh of your tits, groping and caressing. Your nipples harden under the strange touch. Saliva? A tongue?

Where are you?

And there is something else between your legs. The muscles of your thighs tense, and the hold around you tightens.

"What?" You groan again into the silence. As you look down on your body, you see your t-shirt around your neck. Your breasts are bare. Something dark and purple curls around them, squeezing and licking. The teasing on your nipples is almost painful. At the back of your mind, you want more. Your head falls back onto the pillows, and you are asleep again.

The tentacles between your legs move up and down on your pussy. Your panties are ruined between your wet center and the slick touch of theirs. One of them flicks your clit. Your back arches at the feeling. The cold night air hits your aching pussy when the thin fabric is pulled aside. One of them stays around your clit, flicking and rubbing the hard bud. The other one goes straight to your hole.

You want to move. To get closer or farther away, you can't decide. The tendrils don't let you go anyway.

You break the silence with a sudden moan. The limb enters you slowly. It slips into you easily, stretching your walls until you can't take another inch. It fills you up.

"Fuck," you groan.

Your breasts are soaked. The slickness on your skin shines under the dim streetlights. The tentacles play with your flesh, rubbing and pinching your nipples. The pain takes your breath away every now and again until you feel dizzy.

The others between your legs move without pausing even for a second. Your clit throbs, and your walls flutter. Pleasure flares inside your veins, rushing through your body with such force you never felt before. Your lungs burn for air, and your muscles ache as you lay taut, panting.

When you open your eyes, you see the ceiling and the old lamp hanging above you. You want to force your mind to think, to panic, to do something, but your senses are full of pleasure. The only thing you can do is moan and grind against the tentacle inside your pussy. It pounds into you, reaching every spongy spot inside that makes you see stars and beg for more. The sheet under you is soaked with your mixed juices. You can feel it dripping out of your hole.

Fuck, you want to shout, but you can't find your voice. You just shake and tremble in the hold of the limbs keeping you in place on the bed. Every nerve in your body is on edge, and when it snaps in your lower stomach, you can't remember how to breathe. Your climax forces you down and stops you from moving. A thin layer of sweat shines on your bare skin. Heat burns you from the inside, and your pussy flutters and sucks on the tendril inside you. It still moves in and out. It twitches and rubs against your walls. And doesn't stop even when the darkness envelopes you again.

When you wake up the next morning, you need a few minutes to remember where you are. The sun shines through the window, casting an orange hue over the old rug in the middle of the room. As you sit up, your t-shirt falls back over your torso, but your pants are still around your knees.

"What?" You grunt out. The question is barely louder than a whisper. Your hand shakes as you reach down between your legs. Your pussy is wet, sensitive, and swollen. A moan escapes you when your fingertip slides over your slit.

Your dream is still vivid in your mind. You can feel the tentacle in your pussy, using your hole and rubbing your clit. Your center starts to throb with need at the memory. And your breasts. Your other hand grabs one of your tits. Your nipples are still hard peaks through the thin fabric of your shirt.

"Hello? Cat?" The sudden noise snaps your head up to the door of your room. The voice comes from the entrance of the house. "It's Delilah." "Hey!" You croak out. You are not even sure if she can hear you. "I will be down in a minute." "Great!" She shouts back. "I will make some coffee, and we can talk about your plans with the house." Your fingers sink into your hole. You are still stretched out. You move in and out of your pussy easily.

Yeah, you think, you need a few nights if you want to decide about your plans.

- Masterlist Grimbrook Masterlist Patreon

[rafeandonlyrafe]

safe

words: 1.1k

warnings: home break in (not really described though), drug dealer!rafe and reader, pregnant!reader, husband!rafe

“r-rafe.” your voice is timid and shaky, so unlike what rafe is normally used to hearing. he instantly knows something is off, wrong.

“baby, what is it?” rafe asks into the phone, wishing he could see your face right now, could read the emotion in your expression.

“something uh-something happened. the police are here.”

“shit, are you alright?” rafe is suddenly moving away from the party, needing the noise of music from the live band and people talking and laughing to stop drowning out your words. “is the baby alright? did barry get caught?”

“yeah, we are both fine.” you press your hand against your stomach, the spot your baby always kicks, glad when you feel her stomp against your skin, reminding you she's okay, even if you don't currently feel like you are. “its not the business. there were some um… robbers.”

“what?” rafe shouts, knowing he probably just made you jump over the phone, but he can't help the loud reaction, needing more information, and needing it now.

“yeah they came into the house. i hid in the closet, but they found me. they didn't do anything, just shoved me a bit. they did take a lot of the jewelry you got me, i don't know what else, you'll have to talk to the police and give them a full invento-”

“shit, y/n!” rafe interrupts you. “i don't care about our stuff! i only care about you and the baby. im coming home right now.”

“okay.” you whisper over the phone. “im sitting on the front porch.”

“and police are watching you?” rafe asks, hurrying to his car, not bothering to explain to anyone his sudden leaving as he tears out of the parking lot.

“yeah, they're here. don't worry, im safe. i don't think they even had weapons, at least none that i saw.” rafe can hear you take a shuddering breath, his heart breaking that he wasn't there with you, foot pressing down even harder on the pedal to get him there faster. “the police think they broke in and expected no one to be home because of midsummers.”

you look down, rubbing your hand over your belly. “guess they didn't expect me to be home because none of my heels fit anymore and even the maternity dresses make me look like a whale.” you mean it as a joke, but it has tears flowing down your eyes, wishing you would have just sucked up your insecurities and gone with rafe. you still would have got robbed, but without the trauma of being there during the break in.

“im two minutes, baby. two minutes and you'll be safe in my arms.” rafe tries to keep his voice calm for you, but it's a struggle.

“i… i just wanna be safe.” you mutter the last words of the call, voice breaking as you begin to sob. rafe hears an officer try to calm you, but he knows it won't work, knows the only thing you need is him.

he parks haphazardly behind the police cars, fully blocking the street without a care in the world, not even taking the car keys out as he runs across the yard, sprinting until he reaches you.

“im here.” his arms are finally around your shoulders. “im here.”

you continue to sob, only lessened by pressing your face into rafes chest as he cradles you, even managing to pull you onto his lap despite your protruding baby bump.

“ive got you, princess.” rafe kisses the top of your head, continuing his reassuring words, the police officers giving you some space, but not retreating any farther than the steps leading onto the porch.

“oh my god, i was so scared.” you whine out, managing to blink back your tears enough to look at rafe.

“im so sorry baby.” rafe sighs. “i should have been here.”

“no.” you shake your head. “you had to go to midsummers. it's okay.”

“as soon as you said you weren't coming, i should have canceled it. should have never left my pregnant wife at home alone. im the worst fucking husband.” rafe knows his words aren't comforting, but he needs to make sure you know that he is the one to blame for what happened.

“what?” you press your fingers against rafes cheeks. “you couldn't have known, baby.”

“i still should have been here.” rafe leans in, taking your mouth in a strong kiss. “i love you, baby.”

“oh my god, you're not gonna leave my side for the next year, are you?” you let out a tiny laugh, the noise relieving rafe, loosening some of the tension in his chest.

“definitely not, my love.” rafe pulls you closer.

“thank you for coming so quickly.” you whisper, letting your head rest against rafes chest. “i really am okay. just freaked out.”

“don't worry, baby.” rafes voice suddenly changes tone. “the second they try to sell any of your jewelry, ill find them. they won't make it far at all. ill make sure they can never hurt you or anyone else ever again.”

you know you should tell rafe to let the police handle it, to not get personally involved in clearly dangerous men, but any man who lays their hands on a pregnant woman doesn't deserve to breathe, let alone only be punished to a few months in jail like what would no doubtabley happen if you went the legal way.

“im surprised you haven't called barry already.” you laugh softly, knowing he will be just as pissed as rafe. you came into their life and helped expand the business, turning them from lowly dealers to something bigger, better. still dealing, of course, but offering protection and other services as well.

“figure id let the police leave first.” rafe rubs your back, glad that you're slowly getting back to your jokey and sharp witted self. “before he insisted on being your personal armed guard until those guys are put in the ground.”

“yeah, once baby girl pops, im going to have to ask him to teach me to shoot. just in case anything like this happens again.” you feel bad that you relied so heavily on rafes protection, that you let yourself slack to the point where an emergency arose and you hid in the closet instead of grabbing a glock.

“hey, what about me?” rafe whines, knowing he'd never let another man teach you how to shoot, not even your joint business partner barry.

“fine.” you joke, sighing and sliding off rafes lap. “you better go talk to the police about what else might be missing. i wouldn't let them snoop around.”

you don't keep anything illicit in your house, but just in case you weren't about to give the law open access to your home.

“in a minute.” rafe keeps his arms around you, not willing to let you move too far from his hold. “need to just keep my wife in my arms for a few minutes longer.”

you look out onto the sky, the stars glimmering in the darkness of light, allowing yourself to take a full, deep breath, at peace held in your husband's arms.

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[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 60 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Your bachelorette outing and Bradley's bachelor party are both hosted by the same person, but they couldn't be more different. Spending an evening at home with Noah is reminiscent of your babysitting days, but now he's asking you some pertinent questions.

Warnings: pregnancy topics, swearing, smut, drinking, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Natasha was outside in her SUV on the driveway, ready to pick you up for your bachelorette outing. You refused to call it a bachelorette party since it was just the two of you going out for the evening, but Bradley made sure his best friend knew to spare no expense when it came to anything you wanted.

"It's just pedicures and pottery," you whispered against Bradley's lips with a smile as he held you close so he could feel your round belly against his body. "I'll be home in a few hours."

He grunted softly, kissing you a little deeper before releasing your lips. "We'll still miss you," he murmured, letting his hands roam along your hips while Noah sat on the area rug and worked on one of the new coloring books you picked up for him. "And don't overdo it." When Natasha started honking her horn, he let his forehead rest on your shoulder. "She's the worst."

You just laughed and kissed his cheek as you said, "She's the best, and you know it, Daddy."

It would have been impossible to dispute that fact. She was the one who took care of you when Bradley wasn't stateside. "Go have fun."

"Bye, Mommy!" Noah said, popping up to give you a hug when Bradley released you. He scooped his son up since he didn't want you lifting anything, and you gave Noah a kiss on the forehead.

"Have fun with Daddy," you told him, kissing him once more before heading outside to Nat's idling SUV. 

Bradley stood on the porch with Noah and waved until you were out of sight, and then Noah asked, "Can we get Mommy a coloring book?"

"Hey," Bradley said, nudging the door open while also making sure Skittles didn't get outside without her leash on. "That's a great idea, Bub. Maybe a Princess coloring book? You can give it to her for the wedding?"

His son looked so much like a tiny version of himself, and he had to stifle his laughter as Noah nodded stoically and said, "Yeah, she'd like that. I have so many great ideas."

Bradley took him back inside, and they ended up stretched out on the floor together. Noah continued with his masterpiece while Bradley started searching for options on his phone. After a few minutes, he found an independent shop that made coloring books with different themes based on photos that you send to them. "Do you like this?" he asked his son, holding up his phone.

Noah looked at the sample pages as Bradley scrolled through them. He nodded and said, "Mommy is prettier than that."

"She absolutely is," Bradley replied as he realized the wedding was in a week and didn't know if a custom book could even be completed in that short amount of time. "Let me see if we can get something like this for her. If not, we can always save it for her birthday."

His son started to pout at the mere mention of having to wait longer for it, so Bradley started typing up a message to the owner of the shop, hoping that he'd be able to explain that it was for his wedding. Once that was done, he checked the time and asked, "Do you need a snack before dinner?"

"Ants on logs," Noah replied without missing a beat. Bradley had no problem with the healthy snacks you somehow tricked the two of them into eating, but he was always told he never got the peanut butter proportions right.

"Yeah, okay. I can try to make them the way you like-"

"Mommy left some in the fridge."

Bradley chuckled as he stood up, coaxing Noah to abandon his coloring project for the time being. "Of course she did. She's the best." Somehow even when you weren't here, you had everything covered.

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

"Okay, so if you could ditch Bradley and marry a celebrity, who would you pick?"

You burst out laughing in the pedicure chair next to Natasha with your hands resting on the roundest part of your belly. "Who said I would? Even if I could?" She gave you a look followed by an eye roll before you said, "You'll laugh at me, so I don't even want to say my answer."

"Just say it," she prompted as you dragged your foot through the warm water.

You groaned and said, "I like all the older, DILF-y actors."

Natasha started cackling as you covered your eyes with your hands. "You have a type!" she said amidst her laughter. "And your type is Rooster!"

You thought back to all the time you wasted with Greyson and other guys your age and grimaced. "I don't think that was always my type. It's a more recent development, and I'm not mad about it." You moved your hand on your belly and added, "Boy suck. Men are at least marginally better."

"Well," she said, leaning a little closer to you like she had a secret. "You found a good one. Or rather, I kind of found you for him. But regardless, he's a keeper. Kind of because he has Noah."

"Mostly because he has Noah," you told her, and then both of you were laughing.

After your nails were painted a vibrant purple, Natasha took you out for dinner and let you eat until you were full. You could tell your body and appetite were changing by the day, but you refused to feel self conscious about it in front of her. The two of you were sharing a slice of cake for dessert when you said, "He really did plan almost everything for the wedding. All I did was help him pick out matching suits for him and Noah to wear. And I picked out some flowers and my dress, but that's it."

Natasha hummed as she took another forkful of dessert. "I'm telling you, he'll always be good like that. He's a planner. Very responsible."

You felt silly telling her what was on your mind, but you said it anyway. "He pays my credit card bill. Not that I spend a lot! I try not to! I usually just buy groceries and things for Noah." She nodded like your words weren't as startling as you thought they were. "I kind of wanted to surprise him as a thank you, but if I buy something, he'll see it on the credit card statement."

Maybe you should have been wary of the smirk that found its way to her lips when Natasha said, "What if I rally the boys one night this week and take him out for a little bachelor party?"

"Oh," you said softly. "You'd do that? Just something lowkey?"

"Super lowkey," she agreed with a nod.

You could easily imagine them going to Top Golf or out for some drinks. "I think he might really like that."

"Or.... and just hear me out," she said, holding up her hands innocently after handing her credit card to the waiter. "Or, you let me absolutely roast him for the night."

You studied her face; how bad could it be? She was Bradley's best friend after all. Even if she was giving him a hard time, she'd probably make it fun. "What did you have in mind?" you asked as the two of you left the restaurant and headed for the pottery boutique down the block.

"A few things I'm going to need your approval for," she replied casually. And while you worked on making yourself a mug that said Noah's Mommy, you listened to Natasha's not-so-lowkey plans for Thursday night. By the time your mug actually looked like a mug, you gave her full approval.

"I almost feel bad about this," you told her with a laugh.

"I don't."

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

The following evening after Noah was in bed, Bradley set you up for a nice shower while he cleaned up the kitchen from the chicken enchiladas you made for dinner. When Nat called him, he held his phone to his shoulder with his cheek and kept working.

He answered the call and asked, "Hey, what's up?"

"Your bachelor party with me and the guys starts at six o'clock on Thursday evening."

He laughed in response. "It's funny that this is the first time I'm hearing about it."

Bradley could practically feel her rolling her eyes through the phone. "Just be ready to go."

"Ready for what?" he asked, knowing better than to just trust her with this. The dating app was one thing, and that had turned out great in the end, but he wasn't going to blindly go with her on this.

"Uhhh... just some stuff."

"Natasha."

"Bradley."

"What did you do?"

There was a brief pause before she said, "Just be ready for dinner, booze and some strippers."

With a deep sigh, Bradley closed his eyes and said, "I'm going to have to check with my wife-to-be about the strippers, Nat." You had to know by now that you had nothing to worry about, and he wasn't even all that keen on going to a strip club, but he didn't want you to be upset.

"She knows the plan."

He froze as he loaded the dishwasher. "She does?"

Natasha laughed, and Bradley swore he felt his skin crawl. "She does. Be ready for six o'clock on Thursday."

"We have work on Friday-" 

She already ended the call. Bradley finished cleaning up when he heard you getting out of the shower. "God damn it, Nat," he muttered as he turned off the kitchen lights and made his way back to the bedroom where you were all wrapped up in a towel.

"Hi, Daddy."

He groaned at your words and your little smirk. "Hey, Baby. Can we talk for a minute?"

Your eyebrows shot up as you held your towel around you a little tighter. "What's wrong? Is it something about the wedding? Did the marriage license not go through? We only have six days."

"No, no," he promised, reaching for you. "It's not that. It's... I just got off the phone. With Nat."

You looked relieved as you leaned against him. "Good. I was worried for a second."

Bradley didn't quite know how to approach this topic now that he was here. Natasha would be as tenacious as a junkyard dog about her plans, so he had to say something. "You don't have anything to worry about."

You laughed softly. "That sounds nice."

He cleared his throat and said, "Nat called about my bachelor party night?" 

It came out more like a question than a statement, but you just nodded and said, "Dinner and drinks and the strip club."

"Yeah," he rasped. "You approved this whole thing?"

"Mmhmm. To be fair, it was all her idea. I just told her it was okay."

Bradley tipped your chin so you were looking up at him, your face fresh and perfect after your shower. "If this plan is not okay with you, then I'm not going."

"It's okay with me," you replied easily. "I trust you."

He studied your face. "I feel like I'm going to end up babysitting everyone on a work night. Two days before the wedding."

You snorted in response. "You'll have fun. And so will everyone else. You should go."

"Yeah, I'm going," he groaned. "Nat will just have the guys drag me out if I don't go willingly. But I don't really care about looking at strippers. I got you and your perfect tits right here at home."

You didn't stop him when he slowly tugged your towel from your fingers and pulled it open. And yeah, your tits looked perfect, but so did the swell of your pregnant belly and your soft skin. He was hard as soon as the towel hit the floor. 

"Daddy," you whined softly, shivering in his arms. It was December, and the nights were chilly in San Diego; you had taken to snuggling with him even more than usual in your sleep. "Now you need to warm me up."

"My pleasure," he replied, scooping you up and dropping you carefully onto the king sized bed that you picked out for the room. "Let me start right here," he whispered before he kissed you softly, covering your body gently with his. "Feeling warmer?"

You shifted beneath him, spreading your legs wider so he was nestled against your pussy, his cock straining against his jeans zipper. "A little bit," you whispered innocently. 

Bradley smirked, and when he brought his hand up to stroke your breast, he said, "I told you, I got these perfect tits right here."

"Bradley," you giggled as his fingers skimmed along your skin, but when he stroked his thumb across your tightly furled nipple, you arched your back and made a raspy gasping sound. Your eyes went wide as you looked up at him. "Oh my god," you moaned.

"Are you okay?" he asked, pulling his hand away, but you were already nodding vigorously. 

"It felt really good." The words rushed right from your lips as you rolled your hips up to meet his. "Different, I guess. I can't explain it."

When he rubbed your nipple between his thumb and index finger, he smirked. You were instantly squirming and moaning, reaching for his zipper with one hand and his hair with the other. Your eyes were wild even though he was being gentle, and he dipped his head down to whisper in your ear. "You're extra sensitive right now. It's the pregnancy hormones." He plucked and stroked as you started panting. "God damn, Princess. You like that?"

"Yes!" Your voice already sounded broken, and he'd barely touched you.

"Shh. Keep quiet like a good girl." But his words and hand seemed to have the opposite effect on you, because you just got louder. Bradley reached down to where you had his cock free from his zipper and pulled your hand up to his lips. He kissed your fingers before shoving them a little rough into your mouth. "You have to be quiet if you want me to play with you."

You moaned around your own fingers but nodded your head, and at least you were quieter now as Bradley kissed his way from your neck down to your tits. He didn't know how he was going to manage you when there were two kids in the house trying to sleep, but at the moment, he didn't really care. You were going to be his wife in a few short days. That thought alone had him bucking his cock against the bedding as he ran his mustache along your peaked nipple, inhaling your wildflower scent.

When he pulled your nipple into his mouth and sucked, he could tell your breasts were already a little bit bigger than before. Soon you'd be bigger everywhere. Getting even more sensitive by the day. He was painfully hard right now, listening to your muffled screams and tasting you. He licked and sucked until your tits were both damp from his mouth and overstimulated from his mustache. 

When you started bucking up, Bradley eased his hand down to cup your pussy and found that you were soaked. He couldn't remember Meredith getting quite like this as he dipped his middle finger into your slick and easing it down to your hole.

"Daddy," you gasped as you pulled your fingers from your mouth. "I'm going to come."

You looked shocked by your statement as you sank down around his finger. He could already feel your tight pussy fluttering around him as he whispered, "You want me to make it so good?"

His only answer was a whimper as you bit your lip, and he knew he'd make sure you were always taken care of in every way. Carefully, he added a second finger and started to circle your clit with his thumb. You were shaking a bit, your pretty tits bouncing softly as he ran his nose down the valley between your breasts. 

"Be a good girl. You know where to put those fingers, Princess," he coaxed, watching you slip them between your lips. Then he let you have his mouth on your tits again, while his hand worked at your pussy. He carefully drew a shaking orgasm out of you as you slobbered on your own fingers, not stopping until he was afraid you'd be too far gone soon.

"Daddy," you whined around your fingers as he ran his tongue flat across your nipple.

"Let me fuck you," he begged, realizing he was already close and needing to be inside you. "Please, Baby."

You reached for his cock and guided him home, and he fucked you with his jeans barely pulled down, coming inside you after just a few strokes. You were the picture of sated perfection with his cum oozing out of your pussy and your wet fingers skimming along your swollen belly and breasts. You were his young, pristine babysitter and his pregnant wife-to-be and everything in between. "I love you."

"Keep me warm all night, Daddy."

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

As you sent Bradley off with Natasha, you shared a conspiratorial look with her. You only felt slightly bad for keeping the bachelor party plans to yourself, and ultimately it made you feel good when Bradley went out for the night in an old pair of jeans and an uninspired shirt. He didn't look the part of a man who wanted to try to dazzle some strippers, and you loved him for it. 

"Bye, Bub," he said, kneeling to kiss Noah where he stood at your side. "Be good for Mommy." Then he stood and kissed you deeply. "I won't be out late, okay?"

"Stay out as late as you want," you told him, running your fingers along his cheek as he pulled away from you. "Just don't have a hangover on Saturday."

He smiled and focused on your face even as Nat and the guys yelled at him from Javy's car in the driveway. "Our wedding day. It'll be perfect. Like you."

"Go," you told him with a laugh even as you had butterflies in your belly. "Have fun. We'll be here when you get home."

With one more kiss, he was off and jogging down the walkway. You watched him climb into the backseat, then they all waved at you as Javy backed out of the driveway with Natasha in the front seat. You were wondering how long it would be until Bradley called you to tell you he had in fact been taken to see a bunch of male strippers. The guys had apparently all been so excited when Natasha mentioned the strip club, she had a hard time holding in her laughter. The plan all along was that she'd take Bradley and the rest of them to dinner and then to The Tiger's Cage- San Diego's premier male review.

But you didn't hear from them at all while you and Noah ate macaroni and cheese together. You still didn't hear a word as the two of you took Skittles for a short walk to look at Christmas lights. You even let Noah dip his hands in green paint to make a Christmas tree art project to hang on the refrigerator, but nobody called or texted you.

"Mommy?" Noah asked as you got him changed into his dinosaur pajamas. "Are you going to adopt me?"

You smiled and kissed him on his chubby cheek. "I am," you promised. But when you looked at his face, his brow was pinched with worry.

"Is it going to hurt?"

"Oh, Noah," you said with a surprised laugh, pulling him into your arms and holding him against his growing younger sibling. "Not at all! It won't feel like anything."

"Then why are you going to do it?" he asked, face muffled by your shoulder.

You soothed his back with your hand, considering his question. For all intents and purposes, you really were his mom. Bradley added you to his will; if anything happened to him, Noah was solely yours. "I kind of want to have a little piece of paper with an official signature that says we get to be together forever. Does that sound okay?"

"That's adoption?" he asked. 

"That's adoption."

"Yeah, okay," he agreed with a little shrug before climbing into bed. "Can I sleep with Skittles again?"

The pup appeared in the doorway, always excited to hear her name. "She can stay in here until Daddy gets home." You set the dog in bed with him and gave him a little kiss on his forehead as he yawned. "I love you."

"Love you, Mommy." He was half asleep as you turned on his night light and left the room. When you checked your phone, you smiled, having finally received the message you were waiting for. 

Bradley Bradshaw: Nat brought us to The Tiger's Cage. My name is on the marquee. It says CONGRATULATIONS DADDY BRADSHAW

You were doubled over in laughter, holding your belly and trying not to wet yourself. Because he also sent a picture. All of the guys were lined up under the marquee sign, and you were pleased to see that they all looked like they were being good sports about the entire thing. Bradley was the only one who looked slightly mortified.

You texted back Go have fun, Daddy Bradshaw!

Natasha sent you some random photos as you got ready for bed. You were surprised Jake was there, given your history with him, but even he looked like he was having fun. You laughed at a picture of Bradley drinking something pink and blended, and then the photos stopped. 

You wondered what was going on, but you kept yourself busy. Bradley told you not to clean up, promising to take care of everything tomorrow night before the wedding in the backyard on Saturday afternoon. Since you had the time and the privacy, you tried on your wedding dress one last time, sliding the fabric along your legs and zipping it up your side. You grabbed your purple paper crown, which was looking a lot worse for the wear now, and set it on your head. 

When you looked in the mirror, you smiled. The dress fit like a dream and hugged your bump. The crown looked fun at the moment, but you wouldn't wear it on Saturday; you were pretty sure Bradley considered it a 'bedroom' item at this point anyway. Mostly, you looked happy. Like someone who was accepted in this perfect place. Like a woman who was needed here. And you needed the Bradshaw boys to be your family.

You wore the dress around for a few minutes before carefully unzipping it and getting ready for bed. It was late now, but you requested the day off tomorrow, and you wanted to see Bradley when he got home from his bachelor party. After you checked on Noah and Skittles, you curled up on the living room couch. 

Every time you stopped to think about the wedding, you got a little anxious. When you asked Bradley what he had planned for dinner for the reception, he just told you he had everything under control. He said all you had to do was show up with some sort of wedding vows, but he didn't tell you anything that he had planned. 

You dozed off on the couch, somehow still exhausted all the time, and you had no idea how late it was when you woke up to the sound of laughter and a key in the front door.

"You smell like Axe body spray. I can't believe someone is marrying you."

"Jesus fuck, Nat. I smell like Axe because you took me to see male strippers."

"Well, I know I had a great time tonight," Natasha cackled as she guided Bradley inside, and you stood up with your hand clasped over your mouth. He was a swaying mess, and he was holding a huge wad of cash and a bag from a convenience store.

"Princess," he crooned softly when he saw you, and your heart skipped a beat at the look in his eyes.

"Hi, Daddy."

And then he was on you, so gentle in his overindulgence, it was almost surprising. He was looking around like he wasn't sure what to do with everything he was holding, trying to touch your belly.

"I'll see you on Saturday," Natasha said with a smile as she closed the door behind her, and then you were alone with him. 

"What's in the bag? Are why are you holding a roll of cash?" you asked as you guided him to the couch. 

He sat down hard and handed everything to you as you stood between his splayed legs. "The strippers were dudes. I made Nat and Javy stop so I could get you some Skittles. I'm really drunk. Can we get married soon?"

When you looked in the bag you found six packs of your favorite candy. "Wow, you must be very intoxicated if you bought a pack of Sour Skittles too."

"Did I?" he asked before stretching out on the couch. "Shit. I'll eat them. Come here."

You sat on the floor next to him and handed him the bag of Sour Skittles as you counted the nearly seven hundred dollars you were holding. "Bradley, where did this come from?" you asked in alarm.

But he just crunched on some of the candy in response. "Oh, these are fucking nasty. Baby, can we please get married?" he rambled, dumping more Skittles into his mouth.

You pushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed him there. "Were getting married in like thirty-six hours. Now can you please tell me where you got this money from?"

"Huh?" he grunted like he'd never seen it before. "Oh. Oh, that." Then he casually dumped the rest of the Sour Skittles and chewed them up while you laughed and shook his arm.

"Bradley!"

He swallowed and dropped the wrapper on the floor before pulling you up onto the couch with him. "Jake got tips for stripping, and Nat made him give me the cash."

"I'm sorry, what?" you asked with in shock as you tried to settle into a comfortable position on him.

"They tried to get Daddy Bradshaw up on stage. I pointed to Jake and said it was him."

You couldn't stop laughing now. "But you got the cash?"

"Yeah," he said, eyes drifting closed as he propped his arm behind his head. "A wedding gift. For the honeymoon."

Just as you settled your head on his chest, you popped back up again. "Are we going on a honeymoon?" You started to feel a little apprehensive about going away for an extended trip without Noah while you were pregnant, but Bradley brought his big hand up to settle on your back as he snuggled in a little more.

"Next year. After the baby's born. Anywhere you want to go."

He really did kind of smell like Axe body spray, and he definitely needed to take a shower, but you let him hold you for a few minutes while he slept.

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

Part 61 will be their wedding! Thanks so much for reading and letting me share this family with you! We're almost to the finish line. Thanks @caitsymichelle13 for the request about the coloring book; stay tuned. And thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 61

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[lvrxly]

ִ ࣪𖤐- An Odd Feeling

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader

summary: your neighbor, Simon, is a single dad. and you frequently babysit his son, Oliver. You've grown to love Oliver, buying toys for him, planning play dates, and even offering to babysit him while his dad goes on a date..wait what? You really thought after all of this Simon would choose you, but maybe he will..?

cw: simon is somewhat oblivious at the beginning >:((, mdni - smut, slight age difference (Simon is in his mid-30s while the reader is in her mid-20s), unprotected sex, breeding kink on Simon's part, oral sex (f receiving), Simon can't help but want another kid after seeing how you treat his :((

a/n: sorry this took so long to get posted! and i apologize for any grammar mistakes, i don't have the energy to edit this right now ;( (it's almost 4am).

hope you enjoy lovies ;)

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"Thanks again for this love, I should be back around 9pm, please try and get him to bed before then," Ghost says frantically as he passes his son over to you along with his diaper bag and favorite blanket.

There was that damned nickname again. 'Love'. Simon always seemed to call you love, it was almost infuriating how that little pet name could make your heart race and your cheeks heat.

Simon had a date with someone a friend of his set up for him, Soap, you think was the guys name. From a photo Simon showed you, she was pretty, gorgeous even. Slim and tall, long blonde hair, and seemingly put together.

"Yeah no problem. Have fun, try and get laid. You definitely need it," You say with a dry laugh, bouncing his son, Oliver, over to your other hip. Why the fuck would you say that? 'Get laid?' Why would you even suggest such a fucking thing knowing you can barely stomach watching him go out on this date in the first place.

He cleans up nice, a fitted pair of dark grey khaki pants with a white button up shirt, the sleeves rolled, revealing his tattooed forearms, and his sandy blonde hair slicked back out of his face, making him less shaggy looking than you were used to.

Simon laughs and waves goodbye as he turns on the heels of his dress shoes and hops down the steps of your front porch. You wave at his back, shutting the door with a heavy sigh. You turn around and set Oliver down, watching as he bolts toward the little corner of your living room which you had designated as his play area for when he comes over.

Your heart feels heavy as you walk over towards your couch, tossing Oliver's diaper bag and blanket onto one of the cushions. You flop down onto the other cushion, kicking your feet up on the coffee table that is placed in front of your couch.

Oliver looks just like his father, from what you could see anyways. Dirty blonde hair, gunmetal blue eyes, and a small dimple on his left cheek. He was an adorable kid, an easy one to babysit too.

Oliver runs up to you, a toy tractor in his hand as he holds it up to you, his other hand rested on your knee as if to help him balance better. "Tac-tar!" He exclaims.

You smile at him, taking the toy he was offering you, and touching your fingertip on his nose, causing the little boy to giggle. Enough about Simon. Oliver was your date tonight. Your own play date buddy.

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It was a little after 9pm, maybe just about 9:47, when Simon got back. He had knocked on your door for a good 5 minutes before he gave up and decided to let himself in.

He used the key that you would poorly hide under your doormat. The two of you would get into arguments about the placement of the key.

"It's the most obvious spot, love, you're gonna end up getting robbed on of these days." Simon had said the day you told him where it was, he was always worrying about your safety. You knew he was an ex-military Lieutenant, but then again that might just be the dad in him talking.

After unlocking your front door and pushing it open he begins to speak, "Sorry I was a little later than I thou-" But he cuts himself off after his eyes land on your couch.

There you laid on your back, an arm falling off the couch and a leg propped up on the back cushion, snoring lightly. That position couldn't have been that comfortable. But that's not what made him freeze. It was how his son was laying on your chest, fast asleep with his favorite blanket draped over his back. You looked as if his son was your own.

His breathe is caught in his throat as he stares at the two of you, slowly shutting the door behind him as he makes his way over to the couch.

A small smile paints his face as he stands behind the small and slightly sad turquoise couch, bending down so his forearms rested in the back cushion. He watches you sleep, his eyes dragging up and down your frame. After a moment he uses a single finger to brush a stray piece of hair off of your face, tucking it behind your ear.

His smile never falters as he pets the back of his sons head, his long blonde hair slightly sweaty from how hot it probably was being all nuzzled up to you.

You stir in your sleep, your eyes fluttering, only for them to end up shooting wide open in shock. You gasp and clutch the back of Oliver, sighing after realizing who was really watching you sleep.

You sit up, cradling Oliver in your arms, careful not to wake him. "Do you normally watch people sleep?" You say with an annoyed look on your face as you rub your eyes, sleep still attempting to pull you back in.

After regaining most of your consciousness, you stand from the couch, your clothes wrinkled and Oliver's little head on your shoulder as you hold him in your arms.

"Eh, define normally," Simon says, a joking tone noticeable in his voice. Was he trying to make a joke? Since when did Simon Riley ever makes jokes? What the hell happened at the date?

"Your in a good mood. You didn't really end up getting laid right? You know what..? I don't think I wanna know." Your words are frantic and slightly irritated. Why did you feel so...odd right now? Simon is a single man. He has the right to go on dates with beautiful women. Unfortunately.

You bounce around your kitchen, rocking your hips side to side to keep Oliver asleep for as long as possible. You can't help but notice how Simons eyes follow your hips as they move. And..what was that? Did he just groan? No no, that would be crazy.

"No I didn't get laid," He finally replies. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in. Almost like a breath of relief.

"If I was getting laid I would have gotten back a lot later..It takes more than 30 minutes with me, love.." Simon was suddenly behind you, his breath hot on your neck as his hands hover above your hips, heat radiating off of his tatted skin, almost scorching the flesh of your thighs through your pants.

You stop bouncing his son, glancing over your shoulder at Simon and..holy shit he was close, almost too close. Those damned eyes were pulling you under and you didn't know if you wanted to be saved.

Oliver shifts in your arms, waking up slowly. His tiny hands rub his eyes, rubbing the sleep out of them. Once he's awake and spots his dad he immediately makes grabby hands towards him.

You gladly hand him over to Simon, anything to get away from the man that was way way wayyyy to close for comfort. You give Oliver to his father and take a large step away from Simon. You see his smile falter but he quickly regains his composure when his son calls his name, his tiny hands on Simons cheeks.

"You have fun while I was away buddy?" He asks his son, to which Oliver responds with a vigorous nod. He then begins to blabble on about his trucks and snacks he ate, but you space out, your eyes still locked on the two of them.

Simon looked so good with a kid, he was a good dad. You can't help but imagine how good he must have been to his wife while she was pregnant. Her lose for leaving him. He's a great guy. Unfortunately, that means women probably throw themselves at him. Hot, ex-military, AND good with kids??? Yeah, they definitely do. And you would to, if you were so full of self doubt.

"Love?" You hear Simon say, his eyes now focused on you as Oliver was seemingly put down to go play for a little longer.

"I asked if you're free this weekend? Oliver is going over to his grandparents for a few days and I was wondering if you'd like to do something?" His voice was shy...that was weird. It's almost like-

"Are you asking me on a date?" You say, a teasing smirk playing across your lips.

"No no, well- no it's not like that. Just as friends, you know- without the ruckus of that one running around." When he says "that one" he points towards Oliver, who was currently crashing two tractors together and making a crash sound with his mouth.

"You know what? Sure Simon. I'll see you then."

He smiles, nodding softly as he runs his hands through his hair, the gelled effect must have worn off because it was back to its shaggy state, almost getting to the point it reached his eyes. He needed a haircut, but it's not like you didn't like the shaggy look. It was unexpectedly sexy.

Maybe it was just your hormones talking but everything about this man was unexpectedly sexy. His tired eyes from sleepless nights and early mornings, his tatted arms, a few of the tattoos colored in with what seemed like marker from Oliver, and his tall frame, almost towering over you to the point you had to look up to see his face.

You did suggest that he should get laid, but maybe you're the one who really needed the action. It's been who knows how long, and your getting so desperate that you literally can't look at him without butterflies fluttering in your stomach as well as..further south.

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After sending Simon and his son home, you immediately ran to your bedroom, quickly stripping out of your clothes and hopping into the warm water of your shower. With your back to the water and your hands in your hair, you can't help but let your mind wander back to your neighbor.

What was he doing right now? Was he helping Oliver brush his teeth? Was he just getting into the shower too? Was his shower water warm or cool? Did he have tattoos elsewhere? What did the soap look like running down his chest and down his legs..?

Okay, you need to go to bed. Sleep would do the trick. Right?

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Wrong. Sleep 100% didn't do the trick. Two full days of almost nothing but sleep and this man has been filling your head with thought of him, some more naughty than other. He had crawled into your dreams, your thoughts, and your daily life in general. You cant even pour creamer into your coffee without seeing his smug ass face in your mug.

It was now the weekend, around 7pm on a Saturday. The sun had already gone down and you were sitting in your living room, a random cheesy rom com on the television as you scrolled on your phone. You scrolled through your feed, seeing videos of your college friends out partying, drinking, and having fun. Then there was you, sitting at home with day old mascara on your lashes and sleep evident on your face.

There was a heavy knock on your door, with a raised brow you hop up from your couch and make your way over to the door, peaking through the peep hole to see who it was. And to your surprise, it was exactly who you were thinking of.

There Simon stood, a bottle of champagne and a single red rose in his hands as he bounces on his heels, he was back to his regular shaggy look, unkempt hair, white t-shirt, blue jeans, and his silver dog tag hanging from his neck.

Quickly, you open the door with a smile and invite the man in. As he walks in towards your kitchen counter you quickly become aware of your appearance. Old makeup on your face, and crinkled clothes that you couldn't be bothered to iron.

However, at this point the two of you have seen each other at your worst, hell you've seen Simon running off of two hours of sleep with a sick little Oliver who wouldn't stop crying and coughing.

"Champagne and a rose? This feels like a date to me.." You tease running a hand across his shoulder as you pass him, earning a shiver from the man. you stand on the opposite side of the kitchen island as he takes a seat on one of the barstool chairs you have, sliding the bottle towards you.

"Take it however you want love." He laughs, running his fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his face, his bicep flexing in the process, and holy fuck.

You shake your head and pop open the bottle of champagne. "I'm glad I know you and Oliver, he's a good kid."

"You're such a big help with the little guy, I honestly don't know what I'd do without you. He loves you a lot." Simon is more soft spoken than usual as he twirls the rose between his fingertips.

You're frantically searching your cabinets for those champagne glasses you got all those years ago but have never used. You swear you still had them.

"It's no biggy. He's a joy to have around and probably one of my only friends!" You laugh, sighing after you cant find those dumbass champagne glasses and grabbing two mugs out of the cabinet instead. Not quite what you'd normally drink something like champagne out of, but it would have to work.

"So I'm not considered a friend? I see how it is," Simon fakes a hurt expression as he takes a mug from you with a raised brow. His shoulders shake in silent laughter after he looks at the mug to which it read "Male Tears" in big black lettering.

You laugh along with him, "Eh, I kinda like your son more than you, he's less broody," You tease, pouring the champagne into each of your mugs. Your mug saying "Reading is Sexy" with blue lettering.

There the two of you sat, at your kitchen island drinking cheap champagne out of coffee mugs with a single red rose placed between the two of you.

-

After a few hours and an entire bottle of champagne, the two of you sat on your couch together, a movie on your tv.

You sat with your legs draped across Simons lap, his hand resting on your knee as his fingers gently rubbed circles into your skin. It tickled, but in a good way.

You fought sleep, your eyelids slowly shutting and reopening. Your breath was calm and slow, a comfortable silence had fallen between the two of you.

"Gettin' sleepy love?" Simon asks with a chuckle, his deep blue eyes lingering on you as he rubs up and down the length of your leg.

You don't bother answering verbally, you don't have the energy. You shake your head in a quiet and small 'no', your hand coming up to rub your eyes. What time was it? It couldn't be that late.

With a groan, you sit up and grab your phone off of the coffee table, tapping your screen a few times for it to turn on. Your screen nearly blinds you, a curse falling from you lips as Simon merely chuckles next to you. 11:57. Almost midnight already? You thought, there's no way.

Simon peaks over your shoulder and shakes his head, running his hands over his face with a yawn. "Surely I haven't been here all that long, it's definitely past our bedtimes," he teases as he moves your legs off of his, standing from the couch with a stretch, his shirt lifting, showing off a fucking happy trail. This man was too hot for his own good. It had to be a crime at this point.

You stand next to him, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you yawn, making your way lazily towards the direction of your bedroom.

"I better get ta' goin'-" Simon begins, before you cut him off.

"Oh please, theres no way in hell you came over here just to hang out as friends, Simon." Your voice is low as you stand before him, your bodies mere inches apart as you stare up at him. Messy hair, sleepy eyes, and those god damn dimples shining through as he smirks down at you. You fuckin' knew it.

His arms wrap around your waist, his face nearing yours as he walks you backwards into your kitchen, your hips hitting the kitchen island. "I've been caught."

His breath smelling of cheap champagne and cigarettes as his lips grazed yours. His lips are soft as he finally kisses you, fitting perfectly against yours.

Simons hands remove themselves from your waist, landing on the kitchen island, trapping you between him and the counter. You deepen the kiss, standing on your tippy toes to match his force, earning an audible groan from the blonde man in front of you.

When the kiss ends, nothing but heavy panting and quiet curses fill the air. "Fuckin' hell love.." he whispers against your neck, his lips leaving a trail of kisses up and down your warm skin.

Quiet whimpers leave your lips as his lips work their way up to your ear, where he whispers a phrase that makes your knees want to buckle. "Get on the fuckin' counter doll, I've waited far to long for this and my tongue is tingling for your taste.."

Obviously, you do as he says, hopping up onto the cool granite. "Atta girl," he says, his voice raspy as he tugs the waistband of your pants down, pulling them off your legs as if he's been craving you for years. Maybe he has been..

In a swift motion he pushed you onto your back, earning a quiet yelp from you as your back touched the cold surface. With his eyes glued on your panties and his hands on your plush thighs you can't help but whimper, letting your head fall back onto the counter top.

"Fuckin hell lovie, you're already so wet..." Simon says through gritted teeth, the pad of this thumb rubbing slow circles against your clit, the feeling of the pressure over the fabric of your panties was enough for you to clench around nothing.

"Simon please-" you whimper, your hips rolling against his touch, eager for more. This draws a chuckle from the man in front of you, he pulls his hand away with a smug smirk on his lips.

Not another word is shared between the two of you before Simon is kneeled on the tile flooring and he has your legs over his shoulders, his face at perfect height with your core. He pulls your panties to the side, groaning at the sight before him. He was so fucking hard right now, straining against the zipper of his pants.

He blows a cool puff of air against your cunt, watching as it flutters before it, his smirk never falters as he runs his thumb over your cunt, coving his finger in your juices.

"Riley I swear to the gods, if you don't stop playing with your food-" you begin, getting cut off with his tongue against your slit and his thumb rubbing circles against your sensitive bundle of nerves. His tongue works in and out of you, flicking and sucking, the noises that fill the kitchen are positively hypnotic. Your whimpers and moans mixed with the wet noises of Simons tongue between your legs. And to top it off, every time you buck your hips against his face he moans, a low growl like noise that makes you absolutely drip.

Simon is only using one hand to hold open your legs, his right hand has traveled down to his pants, unzipping his jeans and finally giving himself that oh so needed friction that he's been deprived of. His tongue goes flat against your cunt, his head shaking side to side, flicking his tongue every so often, just enough to catch the tip of your clit.

He palms himself through his boxers, rutting into the palm of his hand. "You like that baby? You're gettin' louder.." he teases as he sucks on your clit, causing your back to arch off of the counter top and your hands to fly to his hair, tugging on the blonde strands, pressing his face into your greedy little cunt even more.

"Simon! Right fucking there, please please please..." You moan, your thighs threatening to close around his head as your legs shake with pleasure. Your breath is quick and your moans are loud as Simon god damn Riley holds your legs open, sucking and licking your clit, you were about to fall apart right then and there, but after he shoves two fingers into your cunt you absolutely crumble.

The orgasm rushes throughout your body, your grip on his hair tight. He doesn't stop though, his tongue stays glued to your clit, his fingers moving at a pace that makes your writhe, drawing out this heavenly orgasm as long as he can.

You're already fucked out as he pulls his fingers out of you, kissing your fluttering cunt, kissing up your torso and tugging your shirt over your head to kiss all the way up your lips. This kiss was everything passionate, the taste of you still lingering on his lips.

Your eyelids are heavy and your chest rises with a quick pace, still trying to come down from your high. Sweat glitters your skin, your panties hanging from your ankle and your mascara running down your cheeks. "So beautiful, so fucking gorgeous baby.." Simon whispers as he kissed you on the forehead, running his hands over your cheeks. "But we're not done yet, no no no, this night isn't over until I fill you up so full that Oliver will have a fucking sibling by tomorrow.." His voice is deep and sultry, pulling you up off the counter by your wrists and tossing you over his shoulder like a damn sack of potatoes.

With a yelp from you, Simon gives a little smacks to your ass. His quick strides make it to your bedroom in no time at all. He tossed you on the bed, you landing on your back, your toes bouncing along with the mattress, earning a low curse from the man in front of you. He stands at the end of your bed, quickly pulling his pants and boxers off of himself. He can't go another fucking second without being inside of you.

The image of this man crawling on top of you, his ink covered arms on either side of your head and your legs on either side of your hips as he pressed against you. It was all so much, your cunt was dripping, and from what you could see so was the tip of his cock.

Holy shit his cock, it was huge, veins running up and down the length of it. You figured he was from the start, but now that it's in front of you, how the hell will it all fit?

His hands reach for your thighs, pushing them up so your knees neared your ears, the tip of his cock teases the entrance of your cunt, the bead of pre-cum smearing all over your clit. You wiggle your hips, eager for something, anything but this fucking torturous teasing that this man seems so obsessed with.

"Simon.." You moan, earning a groan from the man. His eyes have not left you this entire time, his gaze wandering up and down your figure with a look of biting desire.

"Moaning my name like that..fuck," He groans through gritted teeth, pressing the tip of his cock inside, fucking finally.

You suck in a breath through your teeth, biting down on your bottom lip as you grip the sheets.

Simons eyes shut with pleasure as he pushes into you. Only to open once again to watch your face, watching for any looks of displeasure, he makes it about half way when your eyebrows furrow and your hand flies to his torso, pressing against his abdomen as a way to tell him to stop for a second.

"It's okay lovie, breath, you're taking me so well.." He whispers, leaning down to kiss your cheek, kissing away a single stray tear that had seemingly rolled down your cheek. Slowly, he continues to push into you, the two of you share a mutual moan as he finally bottoms out, his stomach pressed flush against your clit.

"Good girl, my good girl baby, yes.." He moans, his hands under your knees as he holds one leg over his shoulder and the other off the the side.

Your whimpers, his groans, and the smell of sex fills the bedroom. You rock your hips, indicating the need for friction. With pleasure, Simon gives you what you needs, rolling his hips and pulling out about half way before slamming back inside you. Your loud moans and pleases for more, more, more fill the room, causing Simon to let out a guttural groan, hai cock twitching inside of you.

Simon shifted his hips, dragging his cock out of you. It glistened with your arousal, and it made his face grow hot. He bit back a whimper when he pushed inside you once more. You gasped, and he did it again. Again and again until he had a set a rhythm that had your entire body on fire, writhing against the mattress.

"Yes yes, fuck Simon, makin' m' feel so good, I-" You whimper, your legs shaking and your eyes squeezed shut out of pure pleasure.

Simon had reached a hand down and was now rubbing circles on your clit. Your words had his brain swimming, his thrusts deepening and pace quickening. The tight ball of pleasure was drawing tighter and tighter in the base of your tummy, your cunt fluttering around his cock.

"Fuck baby, you feel so good..wanna put a fuckin baby in you lovie..." His voice is low, his groans turning into whimpers as his thrusts become sloppy, he's nearing his own climax. Your own peak is nearing, your cunt fluttering around his cock, clenching and squeezing as he moves at a pace that is absolutely intoxicating.

"Come for me, baby," he whispered. "Come on my cock. That's it, baby, yeah– good fuckin' girl."

His finger moves quickly against your clit, rubbing as his cock bullies in and out of your greedy little cunt. The force of his thrusts make your tits bounce, earning deep and needy groans from the back of Simons throat.

You came around his cock with a sob of his name, your cunt squeezing him tight as the ball of pressure snapped in your tummy. Your orgasm was hard, slamming over you and rendering you breathless, your head floating. Your clit pulsed beneath the movements of his fingers.

The tightness of your cunt earned a fucked out moan from Simon as he slams in and out of you, reaching even deeper than before. You wanted to scream. He was so deep. You were so full.

"Such a good girl, suck a greedy little cunt— so tight I don't think I'll be able to pull out-, yes baby.." He blabbered helplessly as he becomes utterly pussydrunk, his head lolling back and his eyes closing with pleasure.

"M'gonna come in this tight cunt," Si whispered, almost too quiet for you to hear. He spoke louder when he continued his sentence. "You want my cum, baby? You want me to come inside you? Want me to fill you up, fill this pretty tummy?"

"Yes! Please—!" You practically scream.

"I will— I'll fill you up with all of my fuckin' cum.." He moans, his thrusts sloppy and his grip on your thighs bruising. "Take it all like a good girl," he moaned. "Get you–fuck —get you pregnant. Fill you up with my kids. I'd look after you, baby."

You were basically screaming.

And with that Simon cums, your name falling from his lips as the white hot liquid spills from his cock into you. He doesn't pull out, tugging you up so that you straddled his hips, his hands on your as as he holds you up, him leaning back against the heels of his feet. The two of you share a tender kiss, his lips softly kissing your lips, cheeks, and neck.

"Fuckin' hell love.." He laughs, his voice raspy. He finally pulls out, a deep groan slipping from his lips as he watches his cum drip out of that sweet little cunt. Carefully, he lays you back down on the mattress, staring down at you with low eyes and a small smile on his lips.

"You were so good just now, you know that? So beautiful, so fuckin' hot-" He moves so he's laid beside you, his chest pressed against your back as he rubs small circles on your hip with his finger. "-I loved your moans, and the feeling of your pussy..just stay like this with me for a second, yeah?" His hand runs up and down your side, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence as his breath tickles the back of your neck.

What an odd feeling. It all felt as if everything had always been like this. As if the two of you were meant to be, and this was all just natural.

⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆

Simon and You sit in your living room together, his hand on your thigh and Oliver running back and forth with a superman action figure in hand making a 'swooshhh' sound with his mouth.

The promise ring on your finger sparkles as you look down at it, you can't take your eyes off the damn thing. It's been a week since he's given it to you, but every time you eye catches the little piece of jewelry you can't help but stare.

Three years of crushing and helping him raise his kid. One night of his name being moaned and orgasm after orgasm. Two weeks form that night he asked you out. It's been four months since he asked you to be his girlfriend. Everything seemed to be moving so quickly. But not, at the same time. It feels like you've know each other forever so it was natural. Nothing odd about falling in love so quickly.

Or maybe the love has always been there, it was the commitment and the confessions and the confusing mixed signals that were messing with the process.

But in the end everything had fallen in place. Simon still lives next door, but that is gonna change soon. He spends more and more time over at your place than his own. Both his and Oliver's clothes litter your laundry, and instead of one lonely toothbrush in the bathroom, there's now three.

Pink, Blue, and a tiny red one for Oliver.

This was how it was meant to be. Simon, Oliver, and you. And possibly another one. Simon is pretty eager for that addition. Now that was a little fast even for you.

⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆

a/n: not to singledad!simon anymore. <33

p.s.- i tagged everyone who i saw asked to be, sorry if i missed ya! and thank you all so so much for all the love. i love all of ya so so much! <33

[marscardigan]

to the moon and back

remus lupin x reader

summary: your son is just like his father. remus hates that.

warnings: angst, mentions of self-hatred and anxiety, panic attack, cursing, not proofread!!

When you gave birth to Teddy, the marauders delight, you noticed he looked just like his father. The same lopsided smile, the little frown, how he looked at you with pure adoration and joy... everything reminded you of Remus. You adored that. It was like you just made him a twin. And it wasn't only you who noticed it, oh no, everyone did.

From Sirius' jokes to Lily's compliments, everyone knew he looked just like Remus. It was only the named one who seemed to dislike it. So when everyone left the hospital the night teddy came, you confronted him about it. "What is it?"

Remus looked up at you, looking confused. "Come on, don't lie to me" He laughed, failing at making you calmer. "I just don't know what you're talking about, dove"

"You've been weird and quiet all day"

"I am weird and quiet always" you scoffed, frowning as if you were just insulted. "Answer me, please. I am worried over here"

He moved his gaze to the window, avoiding your eyes. "You aren't going to like it"

"Don't care, just want to know why you look sad and why you haven't looked at your son in all evening" Remus grimaced at your voice. "So you noticed" Still, his eyes didn't meet yours. "Of course I noticed" You answered, offended.

"I just... don't like... that everyone says he looks just like me" He tried explaining, but you didn't get it, you couldn't bear to get it, after how proud you were your child looked just like his father. "I just wished he looked like you, that's all"

You pouted, looking at Teddy's sleepy face. Remus kept spiraling on his own thoughts. "I don't know why I feel this way, i should be proud of it" The postpartum hormones started to hit you harder, and some tears escaped your eyes. "If it helps, I couldn't be prouder that my kid looks exactly like you"

"Oh baby, please don't cry" Remus got up from his seat, and with his warm sweater dried every single tear left on your cheeks. "Let's just hope he gets your personality"

"We better hope he doesn't get your sense of humor, because we're screwed then" You laughed, and Remus joined too. He then started to believe in the possibility of loving his own son, even if he looked just like him, and made him sick inside.

When things started to get better, and your kid was almost two years old, you received a letter from the Potter's. Teddy was staying with them for the weekend, so you two could get some time alone. But all of your plans got screwed when Remus got a letter from James. He came to you, hand shaking while grabbing the piece of paper, tears threatening to escape from his beatific chocolate eyes. You got up from the bed and swiftly went to his side, grabbing softly his cheeks, which were burning. Before he could explain himself, he started crying, panic running through his veins. You asked what was wrong multiple times, but the only thing that left Remus' lips were "I told you", repeating it until he couldn't breathe. You tried to do everything you could to stop him from the anxiety, but every time something like this happened, you never knew what to do, so you hugged him and make his head hide in your chest, tears falling from your eyes as horrid shouts left Remus' mouth.

Once he got calmer, he just gave you the letter, too tired to even open his eyes. You didn-t have to read it to know what it said. So before he could do anything, you were going to the Potter-s and taking Teddy back home.

You left your son's room after putting him to sleep, and tiredly, you searched for your husband, only to find him smoking outside the porch. Remus didn't turn around, only lightened another cigarette. "I-m going to bed" You said, hoping to get some reaction from him. After a minute without any sign of him hearing you, you sighed, going to your shared dorm. Before you could close the door, you heard him mumble something under his breath. After asking to repeat it, he finally turned around, cigarette between his lips. "I said how bad is it."

You looked at his eyes, ignored the big eye bags those carried for almost two days now. "It could-ve been wor-"

"No. Tell me how bad is it" He cut you off, voice monotone.

You started to lose patience. "Well, if you're so interested about it, why don't you just try to look at your son's face? Then you could see how fucked up it actually is". You spitted at him, angry about his behavior. "But I told you, the scar on his cheek will fade eventually"

"That's what the doctor told me with mine" He almost laughed. You crossed your arms. "Thank god we have a better doctor then." Remus' tries to look guilty were hidden behind a weird smile, "So this is funny to you now? The safety of our child?"

"Of course it's not fucking funny, for god’s sake!" He almost shouted, throwing the cigar out. "I tried to warn you, ya know. About it before we had... him. But as always, you didn't listen"

"I did listen, you dumbass" You answered back, your words sounded almost venomous. "But as I told you back then, I couldn't give a shit, not before and not now, about it."

"You do seem mad about it" He shrugged.

"I am mad about it because our son needs his father, and his fucking father can't even look him in the eye" You pointed out at him, getting closer. "He needs you, and you seem to be gone." Your voice cracked, and Remus gaze softened just a little bit. He called out your name, but you ignored him. "I swear that every day that passes I have more clear that you are going to leave us, leave him, and I, I can't stand it."

"No, listen, it's not-"

"You listen to me" His eyes looked worried at your face, almost noticing now how pale and unhealthy you look, or have been looking for the past week. "I am scared every time I wake up and not finding you in bed, because you're gone" Your throat suddenly feels dry, as if your thoughts somehow would become reality once spilled. "Teddy needs you, I need you..."

Remus grabbed your hips, caressing your skin with his thumbs. "I know, I... I have been on my mind too long" He looked down, almost ashamed. "I was so scared of passing my... condition to him that once it happened I didn't know what to do after" He finally whispered. "I had no one when it happened to me, and I would've loved to have someone" "Let's give Teddy that support he needs, especially from you." You took advantage of the closeness of your bodies to rest your head in the crook of his neck. "He really misses you"

"I miss him too..." He sighed. "God I'm such an awful father" You shushed him, not daring to open your eyes. "Don’t say that. You are wonderful, you just need someone to remind you that"

Without being aware of his smile, Remus looked down at you, hiding the biggest smirk that now rested on his lips. "I love you, dovie. Love you to the moon and back"

"And just so you know" You looked up at him, copying his smile. "I couldn't be prouder that he is just like you"

And Remus started to believe it. He started to believe the blessing he had with Teddy, but mostly he started to believe how lucky he was to found you, and how his son would found just another angel like you in a future.

[lymtw]

Gym Buddies

"Hey, it's, uh, Toji from... Fuck, why am I telling you this? You already know. Well, you said I could hit you up if I ever needed a gym buddy... So, how 'bout it? Maybe in an hour or so? Alright, let me know."

You laugh as you listen to the voicemail for the third time in a row. He sounds dumber and dumber, but in the most adorable way, every time you play it again. You're tempted to get back to him, but it's been two hours since he left that voicemail. You weren't able to answer when he called because you had just gotten home from work and you left your phone on the couch while you went to change into comfy clothes. Maybe he'll answer if you shoot him a text message.

Hey, sorry I didn't get back to you earlier

Just got home from work

He didn't answer fast at all. You figured maybe the window of opportunity had closed and he went to sleep or something. So, you went to your kitchen cabinet and grabbed a bottle of wine and a glass. You put some popcorn in the microwave and transfered it into a bowl once it was ready. You set everything down on your coffee table, and picked up the TV remote, but before you could turn the TV on, you heard a buzz.

Don't sweat it, unless you're doing it at the gym with me ;)

I'm still down if you are. Want me to pick you up?

You giggle at the corny first message.

I could go for an hour or so.

Are you sure you're fine picking me up?

Just send the address. I'll be there soon.

—

Toji shows up at your place fifteen minutes later, honking twice to let you know he's there. You open the blinds to peek through the window, and he greets you with a raise of his hand above the steering wheel. Why you felt your heartbeat pick up after that, you're not sure.

You grabbed your things, turning off all the lights except for the porch light. You've stumbled on the stairs once, stumbled even twice, but you will not stumble a third time, so the light stays on.

Toji unlocks the car, looking around to make sure there's nothing in the way for when you get in.

"Hey," you smile, inspecting the passenger seat to make sure you don't sit on any of his stuff. "Thanks for picking me up." You enter the car, everything sinking in when the door shuts.

You look at the man beside you, taking in his appearance. He looks the same as last time, but for some reason you don't recall him being so handsome. Perhaps, it was your adrenaline getting in the way when you first met him, and the fact that he was pushing the hell out of you when your arms started shaking at the pullup bar.

"Don't worry about it. I know it's a little scarier to travel alone at night, so what kind of man would I be if I let you leave your house alone at this time?"

You laugh, putting on your seatbelt while he backs the car out of the parking spot. You kept yourself in check by declaring that he was only objectively attractive for now. You don't know him well enough to say he's a good man, or that you trust him entirely, but he's gaining some of your trust, given this is only the second time you've seen him, and he already knows where you live.

Throughout the drive to the gym, you and Toji talked about yourselves. How long you both lived in the area, hobbies, whether you were in school or working, or both. It was a conversation that scratched the surface off, allowing you both to dig deeper and make room for friendship.

—

Toji told you stretching is always a must, especially if he's working out with someone else. He doesn't want them to get hurt once the workouts got more intense, and he won't be held responsible for any muscle damage. He's being especially pushy with you, though.

"We're not moving on until you stretch, so get on the stupid mat."

He watches you pace around, turning to avoid his intense gaze. You sigh, bored and ready to start the more rigorous stuff. "I never do this. I usually start out with a run and go from there." You plop down onto the mat, just sitting there.

His brows furrow, the information not processing in his head. For someone who claims to go to the gym enough, you don't take the correct precautions necessary to avoid damaging your body. "That's a perfect way to develop shin splints, dummy." In his mind, his eyes are rolling straight out of his head. "Alright, just follow my lead. Mirror me."

He had you doing leg stretches, lunges, calf stretches, quads, the whole nine yards. There were times when he stopped to watch you, to make sure you were doing it correctly. When you got to the supine stretches, his eyes went low on your body. You felt like you were being torn with all the stretching. This made you gain a new level of respect for Toji starting all his workouts this way.

Toji kept his eyes on you, unable to ignore the groans and hisses you let out. He didn't know what compelled him to stand so close over your head, but he ended up helping you out. With his hand locked around your ankle, he pulled your leg back just a little more.

"Huh?" You tilt your head up to look at Toji. You weren't sure if you had missed something he said and he went on to the next stretch, but his touch had you shaking.

"You should be feeling more pressure in your hamstring. You're not pulling your leg back enough."

You could feel your face getting warm. You were unsure if it was the pressure of the stretching or if it was the touch his warm hand on your ankle, but in all that confusion, you still managed to mock him under your breath. "You're not pulling your leg back enough..."

He chuckles, hearing a good amount of that impression. "I got you, don't worry." He releases your ankle, the cool air from the ceiling vent hitting it as it dropped to the floor. "Switch." His hand beckons for your other leg, and he does the same for that one. He grabs onto your ankle, and pulls your leg back slowly until you tap the floor. "See how far you can actually go? You're more flexible than you think."

Toji was really enjoying watching the way your leg quivered with its unaccustomed use of certain muscles. He looks down at your uncomfortable facial features. Your nose is slightly scrunched, your lips are tucked, and your brows are pinched. It's cute, but he can't help but picture it in a more vulgar scenario.

He pats your leg before releasing it. "Good girl. Have some water."

Your eyes widened at the praise, something you had to let go of quickly because Toji was ready to move on to the next thing. That didn't stop your stomach from flipping around as you took a quick water break.

"Arms? Legs? Back? What do you wanna work on tonight?" His voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

"Oh, um... your choice. I'm following your lead, aren't I?" You smile.

"Alright, then. You're gonna spot me." He picks up his water flask and walks ahead, assuming you'll follow. Your heart starts racing. He's joking, right? Right?

He puts his flask down, sitting on the bench in front of the huge shared mirror. "How much can you lift?" He asks, looking at your timid frame through the mirror.

"Um... well... I-"

"You don't, do you?" You see the hint of a smirk forming on his lips.

"Yeah, not really. I don't," you say, feeling a little embarrassed. You didn't know this was a good thing for him know. There was no challenge meaning he was going to take this opportunity to show off for you. Toji knew that any amount of weight he lifted that was over one hundred pounds would impress the hell out of you. This was Toji's equivalent of the bird mating dance. His muscles were the colorful feathers and him lifting a lot of weight was the attention grabbing dance.

"Wanna help me put the weights on?" He points at the rack with varying weight plates.

"Okay," you agree.

"How about ninety to start?" That is absolutely nothing to him, but he really wanted to you to believe that you would be spotting him.

"Sure," you confirm, following him to the weight rack after. You grabbed a forty-five pound plate with both hands while he grabbed another, holding it with just one hand. He laughed at the slight change in posture for your walk, from carrying the weight. You returned to the bench, putting the metal bar through the plate while Toji did the same on the other side.

He sat down on the bench, watching you through the mirror. "You ready?" He asks. "If I start struggling, you're gonna pull the bar up, yeah?" His serious expression really sells his little joke on you.

"Mhm," you mumble, with little certainty. Your hands shake as you near the head of the bench.

Toji lays down, looking straight up at your nervous expression with a sly grin. The sound of the bar coming off the ramps makes you jolt, something that Toji breathily chuckles at as he brings the bar down low then pushes back up. You lose focus by the fifth time he does this, narrowing your eyes on the veins bulging out on his biceps. He can see you staring, and it only fuels his motivation to do more reps. But then your eyes start wandering. You see the way his chest inflates and deflates as he continues to push, you notice the shape of his abs bulging through his shirt, and then you find yourself looking all the way down south. You start wondering if he could bench press you. Maybe at his place, with a lot less clothes on.

He whistles, green eyes absorbing the flustered reaction on your face. "Eyes up here. Could've been crushed over here and you wouldn't have even noticed, doll."

"Sorry... fuck, i'm so sorry."

He laughs at how awkward you got after getting caught. He finished up a couple more reps before securing the bar back in it's spot. He sits up, only able to see your back through the mirror.

"What's up with you?" He asks, standing up from the bench.

"I don't think i'm the best person to spot you. Maybe someone else could do it. I could ask this guy if you want. Hey-"

"No, no. Nope. It's all good." He pulls you away from the guy doing squats next to you guys. "I was just messing with you." His hand rests on your shoulder. "You really think i'm not capable of lifting ninety pounds without struggling?" You still can't look him in the eyes after what happened earlier without going red, but that's fine 'cause he can look at you. "Sweetheart, I can lift you up so easily. I'm talking featherlight easy."

"I knew you could lift ninety pounds alone. You just like to make me feel dumb." You glance at him and hold back a laugh.

"Guess you're too smart. Is that why you let yourself get distracted so easily?"

You groan, the embarrassment from before flooding you again.

"It's water under the bridge, but listen, I'm gonna stay and do a couple more sets. You can chill here and watch me, or you can go to some of the other equipment, or... you can be the sweetest girl and do squats right next to me. You know, to keep me motivated."

"Toji, you dog." You smack his arm, giggling to yourself. Toji finds it really amusing when he makes you blush. You turn away or cover your face every time, like it'll hide the reason for why you're acting that way. "I'll pass on being a sweet girl, just this once."

Toji smirks, crisp green eyes raking up and down your body.

"I'm going on a run. I've got too much energy to just stand here or, you know, squat for you."

"That's too bad. Was really hoping you'd be my prize for finishing my sets." He watches your tongue dart out to lick your lips, completely mesmerized by how the gesture transitions to you nibbling on your lip. "Go on, but you're showing me your pull up game when I come get you."

You playfully roll your eyes. "Yeah, yeah. See you in a bit."

—

You ran a mile and a half to rid yourself of those lust filled thoughts that formed in your mind when Toji was around. You thought the lack of breath would be enough to cloud your mind and discard all thoughts in general, but you still found yourself looking for him on the other side of the gym.

"Looking for someone?" Toji asks, scaring the life out of your already racing heart. You gasp, turning the treadmill off. It slows you down at a good pace, eventually stilling you.

"Almost two miles. That's really good." He grabs onto the sidebar, watching you lean forward onto the control panel in an attempt to regain your breath. "Heh, you look like a tomato," he jokes, poking your cheek. "Come on, clean yourself up and drink some water. We've got one more stop and then we can head out."

He offers you his towel, seeing that you didn't bring one with you. Your legs feel like they're buzzing, and you feel incredibly sluggish, but still you pick your head up and have some water.

Toji watches your throat movement as you swallow the water. He notices how fast it's going, and he wants to tell you to slow down, but instead becomes distracted when some of it seeps down your chin and lands on your shirt. You really are a pretty picture in that moment. Your neck is glowing with a layer of sweat, your baby hairs on the back of your neck curl and stick to your skin, and your cheeks are flushed with color.

"I'm tired," you sigh. You use the towel to dab at your forehead lightly, handing it back to Toji afterwards. "Ready," you huff. You cleaned up the treadmill and waited for Toji to lead again. He seemed to be buffering though. "Hey, aren't you the leader here? Come on. I wanna go home."

"Yeah, my bad. Let's see those pull ups."

—

Reaching the bar has always been your biggest issue. It's like the starting height for some of the equipment is six feet. You stand beneath the bar, your arms stretched upwards, and you jump, barely grazing the metal.

"Too short?" Toji asks, ready to assist you.

"No. I'm gonna get it." Your arms go up again, your knees bend and you put all your remaining strength into your jump, still missing the bar. "Fuck. Yeah, i'm too short."

"Need a hand?" He asks, stepping towards you.

"Let me borrow your thigh, please. I'll dust my footprints off aft-"

His hands are on your waist, lifting you off the ground with ease. You freeze in shock of his gesture. "Grab the bar when you're ready. No rush." He chuckles.

His fingers are poking into your sides, leaving a ticklish sensation behind that snaps you out of your thoughts and pushes you to grab the bar.

You huff, your hands tightening on the bar as you hang for a few seconds before pulling up, slowly.

"One," Toji starts counting, watching you dip down again. Your shoulder blades flex as you bring yourself up, then down again. "Mhm, there you go. Got another one in you?" Toji asks, watching you look up. You exhale, and with slightly shaky arms, you pull yourself up, letting yourself hang for a couple seconds after.

"My hands hurt. Two more and i'm tapping out."

"I'll give you some of the salve I use for my calluses. Now, go."

You grunt, knowing how much harder it is when you pause in between. Your arms are worn just from hanging, but then having to pull yourself up again? It's a task and a half.

"You got it. Up, up, up!" Toji drills. The fact that you were able to do two was impressive enough to him, but you were a trooper for pushing yourself to do more.

Toji paces around you, supposedly taking note of your form, but really he's peeking at the exposed skin that is revealed by your shirt raising up. Your stomach, your lower back, your waist, it's all eye candy. He gives your ass a good stare down once he's behind you again, but something that unexpectedly got him was you doing the final pull up cross-legged.

You groaned at the burn in your muscles, the force of your arms having to pull your weight up one more time. Even though your arms were shaking and your hands were in agony, you pulled up. Your chin made it slightly above the bar before you quickly dropped to the ground.

"That was good. I'm done. I'm out," you blurt, exhausted beyond belief.

Toji grabs your hands, examining your palms. "Gnarly," he mutters, running his thumb across the thickened, rough skin. "I've got just the thing for these in my car. Come on."

—

"Just a little bit of this will do the trick." He grabs a blue tub of hand salve from his glove compartment, twisting the lid off to reveal a faded pink colored substance. "Let me see," he says, after dipping his index finger into the tub. You put your hand in his, and watch as he distributes the medication across the bumps on the upper part of your palm. "Your hands are way too pretty to have any type of damage on them," he murmurs as he rubs your palm until the salve is properly smoothed in. He does it for your other hand as well, his excuse being that he can't just start something without finishing it. "Good to go," he says, before releasing your hand.

"Thanks," you respond. Thank god he turned the light of immediately, because it would have been mortifying if he saw the furious blush on your face.

"Don't mention it, doll." He inspects his own hands, and though his have calluses as well, he doesn't want to hold you up any longer, so he puts the lid back on the blue tub and stores it in his glove compartment. "Let's get you back home."

—

You felt tension throughout the whole drive back to your house. There wasn't as much conversation going on as before, but there was something. You felt something. You kept trading glances with him, occasionally meeting eyes. He could take turns, looking into your eyes and watching the road, but you wouldn't let it happen. As soon as he made eye contact with you, you turned to look out the window.

The tension was driving you insane, but at last, you made it home.

Toji turned the car off, his headlights dimming down until they lacked brilliance. You unbuckled your seatbelt, and made sure you had everything you brought with you.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Toji breaks the silence, one hand resting on the steering wheel, the other on the compartment between your seats.

"I wouldn't do it more than three times a week," you joke, grinning at him.

"Hey, that's better than nothing. That's three days out of my week that I expect to see you... at the gym." Toji realizes the pause in his sentence was very much noticeable, so he chooses to elaborate. "You know, you can hit me up whenever. For the gym, a random food run, whatever. I have a pretty open schedule."

You laugh, nervously. "I don't. I work five days a week. I don't really have time unless I force it."

This doesn't discourage Toji. Rather, it raises the stakes for him.

"How about forcing some time out for me?" He sees the hesitant look on your face and decides to double up. "What do you have to lose? A boyfriend?"

Your jaw drops. You don't know if he's assuming you have a partner or if he's foreshadowing himself in your life.

"Is that your way if asking if i'm single...?"

"Maybe." He chuckles. "Only if it's not offensive to you."

"It's not. I'm not hiding it or anything like that, but yeah, i'm single."

Toji nods in acknowledgment, a content grin on his face. "Good to know. I won't be limiting my calls or text messages anymore, so pick up, will you?"

You smile. "I'll do my best." You take one more look at the floor to make sure nothing is left behind, before opening the door and stepping out.

"I'll stay until you make it inside your house. Need to make sure no one hops out of the bushes and drags you away."

"Stop, i'll have nightmares." You look at the bush next to your staircase and sigh. "Goodnight, Toji. Thanks for the ride," you say, slightly unsettled by the scary thought planted in your head.

"'Night, doll."

You shut the door and go up the stairs, carefully so that you don't stumble like you did the last two times. This time would be really embarrassing, considering Toji is still there waiting for you to make it inside, safely.

You unlock your door and shut it behind you, quickly, locking up for the night. You fast walk to the window, hoping Toji is still there, and thankfully he is. You wave goodbye to him as he's reversing his car, and he reciprocates with a hand raised above his steering wheel like before. You watch him drive off, his taillights being the only things visible in the dark street, until they're gone.

You turn the porch light off and secure your home, shutting the windows and closing the blinds. Once everything is closed, you carelessly throw yourself on the couch and allow yourself to melt—fully dissolve, at the thought of your time spent with Toji.

[archangeldyke-all]

okay i’ve seen people talk about werewolf sevika but what about werecat sevika like she gives off such cat vibes she’s an introvert who so would love sitting by her window or on her porch watching things also i’ve always headcanoned that she literally purrs when you scratch her head so werecat sev just makes sense to me

YES i fucking LOVE THIS

this is what i think sevika would look like in cat form btw hehehehehe (send me cats u think sevika would look like too! i want to see all ur ideas)

men and minors dni

it all starts with a loose lab-cat. singed had pumped the thing with shimmer and underestimated its strength. he returned to the lab the next morning to a broken glass cage, quickly followed by hissing and hollering coming from the bar.

sevika stepped on the cat's tail where it had been sleeping beneath a table. in return, the cat sunk it's claws into sevika's calf-- four deep scratches running down her leg-- dripping half blood red, half shimmer pink.

singed told her she'd be okay.

he told her to go home and sleep it off and that she'd be fine.

singed is a fucking liar.

the next full moon, sevika turns into a cat.

not a panther, or a lion, or a fucking tiger or something cool. a fucking house cat. and a tiny one too.

she didn't tell anyone. who could she tell? singed would just try to strap her to a lab table and start experimenting on her. silco would probably just laugh. jinx might be her best bet if she wanted answers, but she fears that jinx would do something horrible like pet her or something.

so she just... deals with it.

the more full moons that pass, the more used to it she gets, and the more she can transform herself at will without the moon's powers.

she kinda likes being a cat. it's useful as fuck in the undercity, with all it's steep walls and drop-offs. it gives her crystal clear vision, even in the deepest darkest streets; it gives her great instincts, even in her human form, and...

there's nothing quite like finding a stray beam of sun and curling up for a few minutes to snooze on a peaceful day. both in her human and cat form.

which is how she meets you.

you live on a high floor of a big apartment building in the lanes. it's miserable climbing up and down the stairs multiple times a day, but the nice thing about it is you're high up enough to get some direct sunlight in your home for a good few hours a day.

you don't have a cat-- your landlord would kill you. but you keep a two little pots of catnip and catgrass growing on your fire-escape, a little tin of water and some tuna or chicken when you've got scraps to spare.

you've got a few cats that come to visit you a few times a week, all varying levels of friendly.

the white stray visits every afternoon to snack on your plants, sometimes bringing a skinny orange friend along with her. you let them be, watching fondly through the window as they groom each other.

there's a fat tuxedo cat that you know has an owner somewhere in the neighborhood, that seems to know when you set out food scraps-- always there in a flash to gobble them up. he's friendly as hell, meowing incessantly at your window until you open it up for him and let him come in to get pets for a few hours before returning home for dinner.

there's a new litter of calico kittens you've caught sight of. you think there's five or six separate kitties, but you can never keep track because they grow so and change so much between your sightings of them.

and then there's your newest visitor.

she's a unique cat, silver eyes, only three legs, her left front leg missing completely. there's blue scratches running down her left side, shimmering in the sun when the wind blows her fur away enough for you to see them.

and she doesn't eat any of your plants, or drink any of your water. most of the time, you come home and find her sleeping in a ray of sun. and every time when she wakes up and realizes you're home, the cat will jump up on your windowsill and simply watch you; her tail twitching occasionally in the wind, purring loud enough for you to hear through the little window as her silver eyes follow your every movement inside.

.....

sevika's fucked.

she's so, so, so fucked.

she's been fucking stabbed, twice, and she's loosing blood so quickly that she's starting to see spots.

the men who stabbed her are chasing her, and she's leaving a trail of blood right to herself. no matter how fast she runs, she's not going to lose them.

she's so woozy that she almost forgets that she's got fucking magical powers. she ducks into an alley and quickly transforms, before sprinting away. that takes care of those idiots beating her to death-- but it doesn't change the fact that sevika's dying.

she doesn't know where to go.

the last drop is way too far for her to get there before she bleeds out. she's got no friends in this neighborhood-- and people down here don't have the spare time, money, or sympathy for a dying street cat.

wait.

she knows someone who likes street cats.

someone sweet, and pretty, and always smiling and talking to her like she can speak human language. she can, but she knows your other cat visitors can't-- and it just makes her like you all the more- - the idea of you talking to some clueless cat, just like you talk to her.

she makes it to your fire escape just before her three legs give out.

and while her vision starts to fade completely, the clouds overhead move and a beam of sun shines down on her, the smell of your cat plants wafting over her as the wind blows.

well, sevika supposes. if i'm gonna die i guess this is the nicest place to do it.

you come home and find a dead woman on your fire escape... which isn't a total surprise in this neighborhood.

it's only when you go out to prod at her that you get really freaked out-- because she's not dead, just barely breathing.

you scramble to pull the woman inside your apartment, spreading her out on your bed and nearly throwing up at the sight of two deep stab wounds in her sides.

you've got some shimmer stored in your medicine cabinet in case of emergencies, and you quickly slide the liquid down her throat before scrambling to find something to stitch her side together with.

you aren't sure if it's a good thing or a bad thing when she starts blinking awake, groaning in pain and weakly trying to shove you away from her wounds.

"hey hey hey, wake up." you say, shaking her shoulders. she grunts and scrunches her face up. when her eyes blink open, your stomach twists.

you've never seen eyes that silver besides on the cat that comes to visit you. they're different on a person. much more attractive.

"uh..." you say, trailing off for a second suddenly realizing that the woman beneath you is very naked. and now that you're looking at her, the blue scars on her left side seem awfully familiar. you clear your throat. "uh, wake up." you say again, gently smacking her cheek.

she gasps awake when you start stitching up her second wound. "fuck!" she shouts. and then, she seems to process where she is. "fuck." she says.

you gulp. "uh, i'll get you a blanket." you offer.

sevika nods numbly as you-- the woman she's been shamelessly peeping on for the past year-- stumble out of your bedroom.

"i thought you were dead, honestly, and then you started moving and i got really freaked out. gave you some shimmer-- i hope you don't mind." you ramble as you walk back into your room, throwing a blanket over sevika. "is there anyone i should call for or...?"

"you're even prettier up close." she says. then she cringes.

fuck she didn't mean to say that. it must be the blood loss. and the shimmer. and your pretty eyes.

"uh..." sevika watches as you start to back away like you're scared, and she huffs before she gathers all her energy and transforms into her cat form. "what the fuck?!" you squawk as the woman in front of you disappears in thin air.

and then, a little lump under the covers starts to move.

and the three legged silver eyed cat comes crawling out, two new wounds on her side.

"what the fuck?" you ask, immedietly reaching forward to pet the cat in front of you. you don't consider that the cat is a woman-- it's your natural instinct-- you see a cat, you pet it.

but then the woman's back and your hand is in her hair and she's blushing all the way down to her tits which you can see because she's still naked.

"wha--"

"i'm sevika."

"hi, sevika." you giggle, slightly hysterical. sevika's blush gets even darker. "i'm--"

"i know." she cuts you off, then bites her lip in embarrassment and presses her head harder against your hand, like she's a cat. well, you suppose she kinda is. "i... sorry for stumbling into your life like this. i thought if i died as a cat i died in real life." sevika shrugs. "guess the whole nine lives thing is true, though."

"i don't--"

"i can leave, if you give me a pair of sweats or someth--"

"no!" you squeak. sevika smiles, and now you're embarrassed. "i-i mean... you're injured. you should stay until you're better..." sevika raises an eyebrow at you. "plus... you're kinda cute."

she grins. "as a cat or...?"

"fuck off." you giggle, crawling into bed beside her. "you've fucking... been watching me for a year! it's only fair i get to interrogate you, too, you creep."

"i-i'm not a creep!"

"you've seen me naked!"

"you didn't seem to mind at the time..." sevika pouts.

you can't believe how ridiculous this whole fucking situation is. sevika's blood drying into your mattress underneath the pair of you, but her skin is becoming more vibrant as the shimmer works through her system, flashes of pink sparkling in her silver eyes. she's practically purring as you scratch her scalp. you burst into laughter, and sevika grins up at you.

when you finally catch your breath, you shake your head and look down at the only sorta-stranger beneath you. "so, what are you... a werecat, or something?"

sevika groans before bursting into laughter with you.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @claude999 @nhaaauyen

[etherealising]

chapter one | a berzatto family christmas

masterlist | next chapter ↣

pairing(s): carmen berzatto x fem!reader : platonic!michael berzatto x fem!reader : platonic!richie jerimovich x fem!reader

summary: you reunite with carmy years later at the berzatto family christmas party.

warnings: language (cursing), blasphemy, angst (maybe?), spoilers kinda (if you haven't seen season 2 don't read), the berzatto family, not dialogue heavy, very subtle hints to mikey being suicidal, probably ooc!characters, idk what else but if you find something let me know please! not beta’d and minimal editing so sorry for any mistakes. i also wrote this overstimulated on caffeine so if it doesn’t make sense or it’s repetitive then we know why : )

semantics: no use of Y/N: reader goes by the nickname Baby it has a backstory and its literally so simple, if this bothers you idk what to tell you, sorry : (

wc: 4.7k

You were standing on the sidewalk, nerves filling your body as you hyped yourself up to take the few steps left to the porch and ring the doorbell. You shouldn’t have been so nervous, you knew that but your mind was spinning with the myriad of scenarios both good and bad; that could play out once you stepped foot past the threshold. In all honesty, it wasn’t so much that you were nervous to enter the house itself, it was the fact that you’d be face to face with your childhood best friend for the first time in you didn’t even know how long. Maybe childhood best friend was a stretch you had only been introduced into each other's lives due to circumstance, and because of that forced proximity, you both took comfort in having someone stable around.

The two of you weren’t friends because you had chosen each other, or because you had met in kindergarten and shared toys in the sandbox because the other kids were stingy. No, you met because as a single mom, your mother needed all the shifts she could get even if that meant working the graveyard shift at the hospital, and only seeing you a handful of hours throughout the day because most times she was too dead on her feet to be conscious for more than a few hours. And when she could no longer pay the babysitter her next best option was the eccentric woman across the street who had children close in age with you.

Enter Donna Berzatto, a woman who came to feel like a second mom to you. It's not that she replaced your mom, no one could ever replace her, but she was the only real mother figure you knew for a time in your life. Who took you in as her own when your mother needed a new babysitter, and not just you but integrated your mom into the family as well, when she was spared the time off from nursing. Donna Berzatto who never sent you home empty-handed, and always made enough food for you and your mom to last throughout the week, just so your mother wouldn’t have to worry about fitting grocery shopping into her already hectic schedule. Donna Berzatto who, even when you were old enough to no longer need a babysitter, would send Carmy across the street to fetch you for family dinner, or even just invite you over because she thought you needed company.

Now that you were thinking about it, it seemed like you were more friends with his mom than you ever were with Carmen Berzatto. But then that would be a lie wouldn’t it?

You and Carmen Berzatto were friends due to circumstance, maybe even best friends. You weren’t just friends at his house, but you were school friends, you were everywhere friends. He really was your only true friend, of course, you had school friends, but that’s just what they were. You saw them Monday through Friday for a mandatory education, never an hour before school started or a minute after the final bell. Which didn’t necessarily bother you, but sometimes you longed for a weekend invitation to hang out, not that it ever came. And it wasn’t like you were shunned or unpopular in school, you were just average, you didn’t see a point in making friends with people you weren’t actually interested in befriending.

That’s what made Carmy so different, yes maybe you were only introduced due to circumstances but that didn’t stop the two of you from latching onto each other for dear life. Your mom always wondered how you two even established the friendship you did, with both of you being shy and never feeling the need to go out of your way to make friends. Include the fact that you had been neighbors practically your whole lives and never once taken an interest in each other aside from shy waves and curious childlike staring when either of you would be outside.

Your relationship with Carmen progressed as any childlike relationship would, you befriended each other, had your incessant petty arguments and fights, nothing ever serious enough to actually cause damage just childish antics. And it continued to progress through middle school and high school, the two of you were each other’s person, you just understood each other, the two of you let the other understand you, and wanted to be understood by each other.

You could also recall what you explain as a minute change in your friendship. As Senior year approached and you and Carmy continued to grow into yourselves, you developed a slight crush on the boy you had grown up with. It obviously wasn’t as small as you thought it was if you were standing in front of his childhood home giving yourself a pep talk just to ring the damn doorbell though was it?

The unsolicited card and wrapped present weighed heavy in your tote bag, as your breath was made visible by the chilly Chicago weather.

It was Christmas and for all intents and purposes you had been planning on mailing the present to Carmen’s New York address, but after visiting The Beef on your way back into town Mikey and Richie had let it slip that indeed the infamous Berzatto sibling would be gracing everyone with his presence this holiday season.

It was moments like these you wished you had picked up on the Berzatto family’s horrible smoking habit, thankfully your mom had taught you just how vital having functioning lungs was.

Your head shot up as the sound of loud rambunctious voices drew your attention to the front door opening and closing revealing a face you were all too familiar with and actually relieved to see. The oldest Berzatto brother stood on the porch, hands on his hips as he gave you a goofy smile. You could feel your lips stretching into a smile of your own, the infectious aura that Michael Berzatto exuded doing wonders to calm your racing mind.

“I know you didn’t come all this way just to stand outside staring at my family home like a fucking weirdo Baby.” Mikey’s smile grew in size as he teased you.

You rolled your eyes at the childhood nickname you wish hadn’t stuck as Mikey opened his arms to wrap you in one of his signature hugs. The two of you stood on the porch embracing each other for what felt like hours, you needed this hug as much as he needed it, you knew it and Mikey did too. That was the thing about you and Mikey although not blood-related it was as if your souls knew each other in a past life. Of the Berzatto siblings, Mikey was the last sibling you developed a relationship with. Growing up he was always just Carmy’s older brother but as you grew up surrounded by him, he became your surrogate older brother as well. And when Carmy dashed off to pursue his culinary dreams in New York, you and Mikey grew even closer.

You stepped back from the embrace, your eyes finding Mikey’s as he looked at you with a knowing glint in his eyes. “You not standing out here cause of a certain Chef in that house are ya?” Mikey asked, smirking down at you.

You chuckled “The only reason I come around anymore is for Mama Donna.” You joked doing a poor job to convince Mikey.

He nodded, tossing his head back with a laugh, “You were always a shit liar Baby. Carmy’s an idiot, don't let him ruin your Christmas.”

You let out a sigh head resting against Mikey’s chest as you tried to let his words soothe you even more, “He’s not ruining it, you just know things have been kind of stilted between us, and I don’t know this whole situation just feels awkward.”

You raised your head to look at Mikey again, “It’s awkward right? Am I making things awkward? I don’t wanna ruin Christmas Mikey, I know how your mom is and I know how Carmy is, I don’t wanna ambush him.”

The worry in your voice was evident as Mikey stood there listening to your ranting. His hand reached out as he used his thumb to massage away the frown between your eyebrows. “Calm down Baby, you know Ma is expecting you, and she wouldn’t take it well if you missed Christmas. She looks forward to seeing you every year, you give her a piece of Carmy when he can’t be fucking asked to come home and visit.” His hand moved down to cup the side of your neck rubbing soothing circles where his thumb rested, “Do it for Ma okay? Let Carmy be fucking wonder boy Carmy a’ight.”

You laughed nodding your head as best as you could with Mikey’s hand holding it, he smiled giving you one last hug before dropping his hand to grab your wrist and tug you into the house. You stopped him by placing a hand on his arm that was connected to yours.

“Hold on Mikey, I got you something.” You moved to start rummaging through your tote bag stalling because you were too nervous for his reaction to the present.

“Awe you didn’t have to get me nothing.” You turned back to him with the present in your hands as he held his own hands over his heart mockingly. You knew Mikey didn’t do well when it came to sentimental things and the best you would get out of him was a joke as opposed to anything else.

You laughed holding the rectangular wrapped present out to him, “I wanted to Mikey, don’t think of this as a gift, think of it uhh…as a show of appreciation yeah?” You nodded feeling your face heat up as you dropped your head so he couldn’t see how unsure you were about the gift.

He smiled, finding your shyness endearing before tearing into the neatly wrapped paper and revealing a frame, his hands engulfing it from end to end. He smiled looking at it before you saw confusion etch across his face, “This is great Baby, yeah but uh what the fuck am I looking at?”

You shove his shoulder before laughing at him and grabbing the frame out of his hands but holding it in front of your chest so he could still see its contents, “It's a trademark certification you dumbass, can’t you fucking read Mikey.” You joked to try and underestimate how big of a gift this was.

Mikey’s brows furrowed before he snatched the frame out of your hands to get a better look at the certificate sitting behind the glass, eyes snapping back up to your face with a look you couldn’t read. You shuffled your feet feeling like you overstepped a boundary you didn’t even know was between you and Mikey, “Don’t worry though I-I, put it in your name, it’s not like I trademarked it for myself or anything. I just know how much this means to you and I, I know shit has been tough lately and I’m sorry if you feel like I stepped on your toes but…Mikey, you deserve good things too okay?” You hadn’t meant to go on a rant, but you could feel the apprehension leaving you as you became passionate in every word you spoke.

“You deserve to be fucking happy Mikey, and I, I want you to know I fucking believe in you and I’m always in your corner. If it's-” You were cut off by Mikey clearing his throat, causing your eyes to snap back up to his, all the emotions he didn’t know how to translate into words swirling in his brown eyes, a small smile resting on his lips.

“Mikey-,” Before you could get another word out you were once again trapped in his comforting embrace, this hug conveying something completely different from the earlier one you shared. Mikey’s head tucked into your neck as you felt his uneasy breathing through your hands clutched around him. Mikey wasn’t the type to get emotional in front of other people, and feeling a tear of his smear against your cheek as he raised his head from your neck and settled his bearded cheek against yours, you weren’t sure if you had done the right thing by giving him the gift or not.

The two of you stood in silence as you allowed Mikey his moment, not wanting to make him feel insecure about you being present while he was being emotional. When he finally pulled away you could see the leftover sheen in his eyes. He tucked the framed certificate under his arm as both his hands reached up to grab your face in both of his hands, eyes finding yours, a whispered “thank you, baby,” leaving his lips as he placed a kiss on your forehead before he grabbed the frame again and wrapped you in another hug.

His head rested atop yours as your face rested against his chest, ear pressed against his beating heart. You lied, you thought the last hug was different, but no it was this hug that was different, while the second hug you shared in the span of 20 minutes was a hug of love and gratitude. This hug felt heavier, like there were things Mikey wanted to tell you but couldn’t, things he only felt he could convey through a hug, things you weren’t sure if you wanted to question or not.

It had been almost 20 minutes since Michael had escaped the house to do whatever the fuck it was he was doing outside. Carmy didn’t know and in all honesty he didn’t actually give a shit either, too busy helping Donna out in the kitchen to try to give any thoughts to whatever had grabbed Mikey’s attention.

He was focused in the corner of the kitchen making Tiff Sprite to help alleviate her nausea symptoms. Anyone else would have done their best to block out the rambunctious noises going on throughout the house, not Carmy though, the chaos fueled him, it grounded him. If the house was quiet it would have been too much for him, to be alone with his own thoughts ping-ponging around in his head, waiting for a chance to drown him. So if he had to listen to his mom list a plethora of things he needed to make sure happened for Christmas dinner to go off without a hitch while he was making Sprite from scratch, he welcomed it.

He finished his concoction just in time for Richie to walk through the kitchen, the older man trying to figure out how the fuck it was even possible to make Sprite from scratch. Gratefully taking the glass Carmy had offered to him, marveling at the carbonated drink in his hand.

Carmy nodded in his direction, “Yo Cousin, where the fuck is Mikey. He just fucking disappeared.” Carmy’s head swiveled around the kitchen double checking whether his brother was there or not, coming up empty in his search. Richie glanced up before settling his eyes back on the drink in his hand still doing the mental math to wrap his head around what the fuck Carmy just made.

Richie jutted his head in the direction of the front door, “Outside talking to Baby.” His eyes finally focused on Carmy’s in time to see the frown grace the younger man’s face, his eyebrows pinching together in agitation, annoyed that his brother was on a phone call rather than inside. Though that’s what Carmy told himself subconsciously he knew he was just annoyed at the fact that Mikey was even talking to you at all. Carmy didn’t think he was possessive but as you and Mikey grew closer through the years, he couldn’t help but feel miffed about the ever growing friendship between the two of you. You and your friendship with Carmy was the first thing in his life that he felt like was actually his and his alone.

It’s funny really for Carmy to think he has any sort of claim over you, or like the two of you were even really friends anymore. When he left Chicago to pursue his culinary dreams, he left you behind to, essentially ghosting the one real friend he did have. It’s not like he meant to, you two just went your separate ways after graduation, and he wasn’t even sure if there even was an “Us” when it came to the two of you anymore. If that was the case the only person he had to blame was himself, it was no fault of yours that your friendship had hit a plateau, Carmy hadn’t responded to a text of yours in years, and the fact that you still texted him to this day caused a slight pain in his chest as he stood in the middle of his mother’s kitchen, frown still etched into his features.

“He’s outside on the phone with Baby?” Carmy questioned the ache in his chest doing nothing to alleviate his irritation. It was Richie’s turn to frown reciprocating the same confused look Camry wore.

“What - No dickhead, he’s talking to Baby, like she’s right in fucking front of him and shit.” Richie swatted the side of Carmy’s head like a child. “Your moms invites her to every holiday, Cousin, and she comes every time.” Richie knew the last bit wasn’t necessary but felt Carmy rightfully deserved it, all anyone wanted from the youngest Berzatto was a visit.

“Dudes been out there for fucking ever though, those to idiots just standing outside like a bunch of fucking jackoffs.” Richie left the kitchen not waiting for Carmy to follow him before heading to the front door. He stopped moving the curtain on one of the side windows to spot two of the people he considered family. He let out a low whistle nudging Carmy’s shoulder who had finally joined his side nodding his head to the window.

“Get a load of these fucking losers hugging on the porch like they’re in some fucking Hallmark movie or some shit.” Richie laughed pointing at you and Mikey through the window. Carmy leaned closer to get a peak at what Richie was going on about.

Carmy hated to admit it, but Richie was right, the too of you looked like the happy couple who just saved a small town’s Christmas or whatever the fuck Hallmark movies were about. Mikey had finally separated himself from you long enough for Carmy to take in your features. He’d be lying if he said the years apart made him forget what you looked like. You were still the same girl he left in Chicago all those years ago except the wand of maturity had touched you, and in his opinion he thought you looked more beautiful than you had in high school.

Carmy was never one to pay too much attention to a woman’s features, and not because he didn’t care, it's just that he didn’t think it mattered. But as he drank in your form he learned in that exact moment why a woman might want people to notice the small things. Like the haircut you were sporting that Carmy felt shaped your face well, not that he knew shit about stuff like that, but he could appreciate art when he saw it. The outfit you picked out doing wonders to compliment your tall form and accentuate your legs. Carmy could look at you all day, scratch that he wanted to look at you all day.

He was torn from his reverie as Richie narrated the scene happening in front of them, “Aw look at these fuckers lookin all in love an shit.” He joked watching as Mikey slung his arm around you and led you towards the door, what looked to be a frame held in his other hand. The two of you walked side by side, your arm wrapped around his torso, hugging him into your side, Mikey’s head leaning slightly down to whisper something in your ear a small smile gracing your face as Mikey pressed his lips onto your temple lingering there for what Carmen swore was forever.

The tightness in his chest intensified tenfold as the realization of just how close you and Mikey had become sank into him. He didn’t know how to feel, his brain not even allowing any emotions to process, saving himself from any conclusions he might come to from a split second interaction.

Carmy left, he chose his path, he knew this, and he had no regrets he would pursue his dream every time the opportunity was presented. He just wished that, maybe if he held onto you as tightly as you still held onto him, it would’ve been him greeting you on the sidewalk on Christmas Day, being the sole object of your attention holding you close to his longing body. He knew overall the decisions he made regarding you were wrong, while he ignored your daily text and calls enough times for you to just resort to monthly check ins asking him about his endeavors and congratulations as you heard about his achievements in the culinary industry, he knew deep down that Mikey answered every text and call you sent his way, made it his mission to connect with you anytime you were back in Chicago.

Carmy couldn’t admit it to himself but deep down he knew his family saw spending time with you as a way to stay connected to him. You were the closest thing any of them still had to Carmy, and even though he had essentially cut you off from his life, his family loved you too much to allow Carmy’s shortcomings to affect their relationship with you.

He was broken from the recesses of his mind as Richie threw the door open stepping over the threshold raising his hands in the air to welcome you and Mikey into the house. The glass of Sprite still clutched in his left hand, a broad smile spread across his face as you left Mikey’s hold to greet Richie eyes not having spotted Carmy who was hidden behind Richie’s small frame.

Carmy’s first up close look at you in years were your hands wrapped around Richie’s torso as he pulled you into a hug, rocking the two of you back and forth, Richie let you go quickly turning his body back into the house “A’ight fuckers you can all stop pretending you care so much about Carmy and his little rat in the chef hat bullshit. We got the real deal here now, Baby's gracing us with her journalist presence.”

Carmy’s brows furrowed at Richie’s dig only slightly offended about being compared to a fictional character named after pasta, too caught up in allowing the sound of your laugh to grace his ears for the first time in what felt like forever. Mikey had finally caught up to you standing behind you with a hand placed on your shoulder, Carmy watched as his brother’s hand glided up and down your arm before giving your bicep a slight squeeze and nodding his head in Carmy’s direction.

If Carmy was being honest it was becoming increasingly difficult to quiet his mind that was eagerly trying to piece everything together. From yours and Mikey's prolonged moment on the porch, to the kiss he placed on your temple, add in Richie’s jokes and the almost constant physical contact between you and Mikey and Carmy was sure he figured shit out.

You looked to where Mikey motioned his head finally noticing Carmy’s figure standing there while Richie ran off towards the stairs after his impromptu introduction. Looking at Carmy was like being in a Time Machine, nothing had drastically changed, he looked more exhausted than what you remembered. But overall he was the same Carmy you parted ways with all those years ago.

A small smile graced your lips as you took him in, he was still your Carmy appearance wise, and right now for you that was all that mattered. You lifted your hand in a small wave gaining his attention, your smile growing wider as your eyes locked with his.

The clearing of a throat broke you from your thoughts, Mikey’s hand giving your shoulder a squeeze as he walked you two into the house before shutting the door behind him. As he finished he stood in front of you so that Carmy was partially covered from view by each brother in your line of vision though your focus was taken up by the eldest. He gave you a reassuring smile before gently knocking his fist against your chin and presumably turning to leave you and Carmy alone.

As Mikey walked past Carmy he gave him his signature grin and a wink before patting his shoulder as left to check on Donna in the kitchen and mingle with the other guests.

Carmy’s face was still set in the same frown it had been in when he first asked Richie where Mikey ran off to. You took a deep breath to settle your nerves before taking a step to close the gap between you, your hand reached out to gently squeeze Carmy’s arm though stopping in midair as you watched him subtly flinch. Your smile faltered, your hand finding its rightful place at your side. You looked up to see the apology in Carmy’s eyes, you did your best to brush the moment off, maybe you came on too strong, maybe it wasn’t fair that you were still pushing for a friendship when Carmy had given you all the reasons to stop trying, maybe the Carmy in front of you was a different Carmy to the one you used to know. Maybe the life where it was you and Carmy had finally taken its last breath and you were just too clingy and desperate to realize.

You cleared your throat trying to alleviate the lump forming from the thoughts that were racing through your brain. The small placating smile on your face there to stop you from having a full breakdown in the Berzatto’s foyer. “Its good to see you Carmen, I hope New York is treating you well.” You lips wrapped around the generic greeting forcing yourself not to say anything you might regret.

Carmy nodded his head rapidly accepting your lackluster words, his lips parting and closing all in the same breath. The man obviously had nothing to say to you, and maybe you just had to accept that. You stayed a moment longer cursing yourself for doing so as the air between you two filled with palpable tension.

“Baby, is that you? My goodness you look fucking gorgeous.” Half of Donna’s body had popped out of the kitchen finally gaining a spare moment to greet you. Her words mumbled through the cigarette between her lips, a ladle held in her right hand while the left was occupied by tongs. Her apron covered in all sorts of sauces and whatever the hell else your brain couldn’t even begin to discern.

You laughed half in amusement and half in relief, you weren’t sure how much longer you could stand there as Carmy burned holes in your body. You waved at Donna quickly, beginning to head towards her to join her in the kitchen. It wasn’t your first choice as an escape from Carmen but you’d rather try and help Donna finish preparing Christmas dinner than be around Carmy for another minute.

Donna waved the tongs in Carmy’s direction, “Jesus fucking Christ Carmen, take the girls bag and coat. Don’t just fuckin stand there.” She huffed eyes glaring the longer Carmen stayed glued to the spot. You handed him your tote as soon as his arm shot out and began hastily shimmying out of your jacket. You gave him a soft smile before laying the jacket on his awaiting arm.

You began to leave the foyer as Donna motioned for you to follow her, mentally preparing yourself for what you were about to walk into. A sudden thought occurred causing you to gently grip Carmy’s bicep as you were walking past him, “I uh, I actually bought you a Christmas present. So um, find me later yeah?” You smiled tilting your head slightly in questioning.

Carmen Berzatto graced you with a small smile, nodding back in agreement as you sent him one final nod and turned to enter the kitchen. The first positive emotion he granted you since you walked back into his life 30 minutes ago.

next chapter ↣

a/n: this is my first fic that i’m publishing and i genuinely have no clue what the fuck any of this is, : ) but nonetheless hope you all enjoy! or don’t i’m just a stranger on the internet. constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated though. please like, comment, reblog if this behemoth tickles your fancy!

also i write for fun/hobby and i'm such an inconsistent bitch so don't get your hopes too high, but this will potentially be a series idk yet though lol.

[appocalipse]

Kiss prompt #9 with Eddie? Por favor?

anything for you. ♥

#9: "I think I deserve a kiss."

Eddie is charming your mother. You can tell even from this distance, sitting on the small step in front of your porch while you watch them.

He's been squatting with a some sort of screwdriver near that lawnmower for about 10 minutes, poking it, tightening screws, taking out parts of it you can't even name.

His hands are dirty with what you suppose it's oil, but he doesn't seem to care. He's so focused that he brings the back of his hand to his face and leaves a stain on his cheek without even realizing it.

You smile.

He looks up from time to time, to sneak a glance your way or when your mother talks to him, and then the two of them laugh amicably. After a few more moments, Eddie straightens up the lawnmower and turns it on, demonstrating that, as if by magic, it now works. Your mom thanks Eddie politely, then says something that makes him, you realize, look embarrassed as he stands up, wiping his hands on a grey cloth.

Embarrassed, Eddie? It's an unusual occurrence, to say the least.

It doesn't last long.

She says something else to him, insists. Eddie vehemently denies with small smile. You wonder if she's offering him money.

Eddie, very helpful, turns the mower off and puts it back in the garage.

Your mom touches your shoulder affectionately when she passes you on her way back inside the house, offering a smile that you're not sure you understand. Maybe it's best to not even try to understand.

Eddie comes right behind her, looking very pleased with himself.

The step is too small for two people, but he sits down next to you anyway, his knee lightly bumping yours. "I think I just won your mother over," he announces, and it's probably true; that lawnmower had been abandoned in your garage for the past few months, all but useless. He'll sure be in your mother's good graces for a long time.

"And why would you need to win her over?"

He bumps your shoulder with his. "Oh, you know, for when we decide to get married."

Eddie has no filter. You shouldn't even get flustered by this kind of comment at this point.

You laugh without looking at him, although you sound a little more nervous than you'd like. "So fixing a lawnmower is worth my hand in marriage?" you ask in mock seriousness.

"No, but it's a start. Don't you think I deserve, say…" he puts a strand of hair behind your ear, the tips of his fingers lightly brushing your temple. "…a kiss? I think I deserve a kiss. Sounds fair enough, doesn't it?"

Now you have no choice but to look at him. This space really is too small for two people, and the proximity between is slowly melting away what little common sense you have left.

"You can ask her," you chuckle, pointing to the front door despite knowing that, of course, Eddie wasn't talking about your mother, "but I think my dad won't like the idea, you know."

Eddie grins when you look away. He can read you like a book.

"Don't be mean, sweetheart."

"You're the one being mean."

He leans closer, and you can feel his breath on your cheek, the tip of his nose almost touching the side of your face, hoping you turn to look at him too. "Me? I'm just trying to make things clear." He pauses, and you can practically hear him thinking. "Maybe I should try a different approach."

You tilt your head, curious. "Like what?"

"Like..." Eddie hesitates for a moment, gathering his courage, "…you could go out with me."

You blink.

"Don't look so surprised," he says quickly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I can do dates. Fancy dinner, movies, the whole shebang. Just give me a chance."

You can't help but laugh, turning your head to look into his eyes. It's true, at first glance, he's not exactly the most romantic person you know, with his tattoos, his love for heavy metal and his old van that always smells like cheap cologne, cigarettes and leather. But none of that matters, because you can't deny that there's something there between the two of you, something that you've been forcing yourself to ignore for far too long.

The oil stain is still right there, on his cheek. Without thinking too much, you reach up and rub it off slowly with the pad of your thumb. "I don't need fancy," you murmur, because it's true. You don't care about the glitz and the glamor, not when it comes to Eddie.

His breath hitches when you touch him, like he's not used to anyone being this gentle with him, like he's forgotten what it feels like.

You can feel the warmth of his skin through your fingers, the rough stubble of his beard prickling your palm. You wonder if he knows how soft you've become around him, how easily you let him affect you.

"Really?" he whispers, eyes wide and unblinking, as if he's afraid he's imagining this.

You nod, still rubbing his cheek even though the stain is already long gone. You can feel him relaxing into the touch, leaning into you just a little more. It's like he's been waiting for this, for someone to finally see past the tough exterior he shows the world and find the tender, vulnerable boy underneath.

Eddie grins, leaning closer, his voice lowering to a husky murmur. "I promise to be on my best behavior."

[join my 3k followers celebration! ♥]

[unstoppableforcce]

bad dreams

PART ONE: some people are ghosts before they are dead.  pairing: jake "hangman" seresin x f!reader next part a/n: it's been two years! the words don't come as easily anymore but i'm still trying! i hope yall enjoy!!!

Sometimes a drink isn’t just a drink. 

Sometimes quiet isn’t quiet enough. 

Sometimes an ache of something — too raw, too familiar — echoes in your gut and leaves you with no choice. 

They’ll never believe you, you remind yourself, sometimes over and over and over again. They’ll never believe you when you say you had no choice. 

But sometimes you just don’t. 

Sometimes the pangs of sadness reverberate so violently through your chest that you shake into a shape that can’t even be termed human. Sometimes the claws of darkness climb up through your throat and speak for you in a voice you don’t recognize. Sometimes your feet move, step after step, carried by a will you don’t know as your own. 

Sometimes you end up at a bar, ordering a drink you hate, and feel your mouth salivating for it as your stomach churns. 

Penny slid the amber-colored liquid across the length of the counter, sloshing the drink up the sides of the tumbler but never past the rim. Her eyes carefully scan up and down your form, and even as you drop your head away from it, you can feel the weight of her concern settling on your shoulders. 

“Haven’t seen you out and about in a minute…” She said as she accepts your card across the counter, as much a statement as it was a question. 

But you didn’t have any answers for her. 

With a brief shrug, you finally looked up to meet her eyes. “I had some leave.”

“Do anything fun?” Bless her heart for asking. 

“No… just caught up on some sleep, that’s all.” 

You could see in the gentle lines creasing on her forehead that you weren’t getting that one by without suspicion, but if she had any plans of stopping you before your first sip, she didn’t show them. She grabbed a bowl of peanuts, set them on the counter in front of you, and gave you one last smile. “Always glad to see you.”

For the first time in a long time, you looked around a cloud of unfamiliar faces and believed her. Maybe you recognized a few buzz cuts here and there, but the majority of the excitement rattling around the old beach shack bar came from groups of sailors you had never seen. There must have been a recall on pilots, surely something you had received a memo about at some point in the last few weeks, but checking your email hadn’t exactly been top priority. 

Turning back to Penny, you pulled your cigarettes from your pocket and offered her what you could manage of a half smile before pulling your drink from the bar and wandering toward the back porch. 

The sun had only just set as you settle into one of the deck chairs out back, thankful that the few pairs wandering around you pay you no more kind than you pay them. It isn’t silent, certainly not as the waves continue to pound the shore line, but it is quieter and that would do for now. 

You manage to take your first sip when a rowdy group of pilot-types begin ascending the back stairs, tripping over themselves to make it out of the sand. You manage another as they quiet themselves down and make it to the back door and another when the tall blonde at the back of the group met your eye with an appraising look. He doesn’t seem to mind when you return the look, in fact, if it were possible with an ego as large as his already seemed to be, he continued into the bar with his head held a little bit higher. 

You should’ve known that was a mistake then, but your mind was elsewhere as you worked your way to the bottom of your glass. 

You knew for sure that it was a mistake when he walked back out with a two drinks in hand. 

“Hey.” It was a smooth offer, even you’d admit that, passing you the drink in his hand and giving you a similar, yet far more in depth, look up and down. 

There were still a few sips left in the glass in your hand but you accepted the drink and set it carefully down on the table next to you. As his eyes scanned you, you downed what was left in your glass and reached for your new drink. “Hey yourself…”

“Do we know each other?” There’s a quirk in his eye as he asks. Something almost playful, something almost fun.

It takes you about a second to complete your read on him, and another half a second to accept that this is what your next few minutes looked like. 

“Yeah, I’m the woman of your dreams or something I’m sure.”

The laugh that bellows from his chest seems to catch him off guard. Any drop of composure, anything he put on just for the approach, washed away in an instant as the true laughter breaks through.

“I was being serious,” he sighs at the end of his laugh. “You actually look familiar.”

“You don’t.”

“Well, I just got back.”

You should’ve ended it. You should’ve known right there and then that it wasn’t worth your time. Other pilots were never worth your time.

Then he smiles again and you just couldn’t help yourself. “Trust me, we don’t know each other.”

“You’re sure?” His smirk curved up at the edge, a challenge. 

One pointed stare and a mirrored raise of your brow was all it took and his hands shot up in a playful dance of surrender. His bright smile accompanied it and you swore you felt something far too light bubbling the darkness sitting heavy on your chest. 

This was a mistake. 

“Hangman.” He extended his hand your way, offering a shake as he laid his call sign on the table, confirming what you already knew his day job to be. 

You didn’t take it, sipping at your drink instead, watching as he bit back laughter and pulled his hand back. He had pulled back just enough to offer you a way out, you could tell that was his intention at least. He was giving you space to tell him off entirely, and everything about him, from the perfectly manicured hair to the broad shoulders to the boots on his feet, told you to back out now. 

But his smile was telling you something else entirely. And you met him there.

“Is it a good story?”

He tried to hide his satisfaction with the question, doing his best to hold something else in as well as he turned his head to the side and shrugged in a play at indifference that just didn’t suit his ego. “Depends who you ask.”

The porch had emptied out as the sun set completely, leaving just the two of you. So when you leaned your head from left to right and shrugged, he nearly lost it laughing again. “I guess I’m asking you.”

“I’m very quick.”

“Aren’t all of you very quick?”

“They’re quick, I’m very quick.” He gets one laugh out and swallows the rest. “Quite a few have been left behind when they can’t keep up… or so the story goes.”

That almost makes you laugh. Almost. “Not a very good story.” 

“Well, no one asked you.”

How long had it been since a smile bubbled to your lips so naturally? It was barely there, and you certainly did your best to hide it with your drink, but it was a real smile. A natural smile. 

He must have seen it too, offering you yet another chance to meet him halfway. “I didn’t get your name…” 

Your smile isn’t fading. “I don’t have a name.”

“No?” He laughs.

“Nope.” Another sip of your drink brings you painfully close to the bottom. 

“You work on base?” He tries a new line of questioning, anything to get more than a few words in a row out of you. 

Your head feels a bit heavier than it should as you weigh it back and forth before offering a non-committal hum. He repeats it back to you in question and you sigh, offering him an answer. “Yeah, sometimes.”

“Sometimes? You don’t look like a civilian?”

Part of you can’t help but wonder what that means you do look like, but you don’t bother. Shaking your head, you answer, “not a civilian, just complicated.”

“I can do complicated.” 

That seemed to be whatever you needed to push you the rest of the way over the edge. A reminder from the echoing voice in your head, from the clawing darkness in your gut. 

This was a mistake. 

He didn’t know who you were, he didn’t know what he walked himself into. This wasn’t fair to him. 

And it certainly wasn’t fair to you. 

Pretending was fun. In some of these darkest moment, distraction was the only thing keeping you sane, but it would never last. You knew it could never last. 

You came for a drink, something to wash the bad taste in your mouth away long enough to sleep through the night. You didn’t come to ruin someone else’s night. It just wasn’t fair to either of you. 

“I’m sure you excel at it, Lieutenant.” You mock with a heat you hadn’t been able to muster when he first gave you the chance. “Look… this has been a fun few minutes but if you’re looking to have another fun few minutes tonight, you’re wasting your time with me.”

“I disagree.” The offer on the table wasn’t there anymore. He gave you a chance but you were in it now, you could see it on his face. That smile. He was feeding off the back and forth. He liked this. 

Fuck. This was a mistake. 

“Well, I’m glad I can be a source of entertainment but I’m serious.” Additional heat but his smile never melted. He didn’t just like this, he liked you. 

“Serious is a strange name for a woman as pretty as you are but if that’s what you go by…”

You couldn’t help the small turn of a smile this time, you beat it down with heavy fist but he could still pull it out of you like it was nothing. 

“Should I try guessing your name?” He’d give anything to keep your smile going. Anything he could. “Normal name? ’parents tried to be unique’ name? you kinda look like you could go either way.”

And as much as you knew you should back out, something light, something you barely even recognized in your chest, kept beating and you kept going. “Well your parents named you Hangman, so I don’t know if you’re really allowed to talk.”

He’s halfway through a sip of beer and sputters at your words. As he catches himself and wipes his lips, he smiles again, “it’s Jake, actually.”

“Jacob or just 'Jake'?”

“I don’t think parents name their kids just Jake-“

“Yeah, Jake is a pretty stupid name.”

“I meant just 'Jake'-“

“I honestly can’t tell anymore if your name is Jake or Jacob now-“

The rumble of laughter is cut short, like wind to a flame. 

A group of sailors roll out the door, drunkenly hanging off each other and locked into the chorus of whatever song had been playing through the walls just a minute ago. The three of them barely notice the stairs they’re falling down, so for a few seconds, your heart stays where it is in your chest. But the seconds fall quickly through the hourglass when the taller of the group stands to full height and a roughly 15 degree angle and turns back to where you and Hangman are sitting. 

A mustache and a face you know right away. 

“Holy shit, Ghost?”

Now silence and the crashing waves is all you can hear. 

Jake’s head turns in realization, matching your face, ever so slightly older, to the pictures of previous top gun classes they had been scanning through just days ago. Few are lucky enough to hold the title of best of the best, and you were one of them. Or you had been. 

All Jake knew now was that you didn’t fly fighter jets anymore. “Shit.” He says almost silently.

It was a mistake. At least you could leave knowing you were right about that now.

“Bradley Bradshaw…” you hum, taking the last swig of your drink and finding your feet. “Now that’s a pretty unfortunate name.”

Jake wants to laugh with you as you pass by, but you aren’t laughing and when he notices how quickly you’ve abandoned your smile, he can’t find it in him to laugh again. 

Rooster musters up a half-hearted and mostly drunken apology that you wave your hand at, figuring he’ll forget he ever saw you by the time the sun re-emerges. He tries again as you step past him but again, you dismiss him. “Don’t worry about it.”

It isn’t until you find the stairs that you turn back to find Jake’s waiting stare. “Thanks for the drink.”

He nods, unable to find any other semblance of words. 

And you carry on, hoping the bottle of liquor in your nightstand can calm the nerves boiling under your skin at the mere mention of your call sign. 

[chiaraanatra]

Lavender Girl

Summary: JJ was never one to believe in fate but one chance encounter may have him changing his mind. (Or the one where JJ helps Kook!reader through a panic attack and neither one of them can get the other off their mind.)

Warnings: vague descriptions of a panic attack, reader is an anxious wreck, reader tends to bite the skin on her fingers when anxious (don't mind me and my self-inserts), swearing feelings of distrust on JJ's part, nick-/pet names (pretty girl, lavender girl). one use of Y/N.

WC: 2.1k

AN: I'm not sure what this is or where its going! If anyone has any ideas/would like a part two let me know! I hope you like!

Song: Loosely based on Lavender Girl by Caamp

《 m.list || ao3 》

JJ POV

Why do I do this to myself?

Are pity tips from old ladies worth it?

This stupid getup is bad enough, let alone having to wait hand & foot on these fucking Kooks.

Do these people have nothing better to do on a Thursday morning than sit around bitching and drinking mimosas?

JJ made my way back inside, empty tray under his arm. Thank god it was nice out. It meant that the main bar inside the club was completely empty, giving him a minute of peace away from out-of-touch members of 'high society'.

Or so he thought…

When he turned the corner, he was met with soft sobs and lavender fabric pooled delicately on the floor under the bar. "Um… You okay…?" He didn't want to be rude, but heavy emotions weren't exactly his specialty, and he didn't have much experience with girls crying on the floor. At least not like this...

“Oh God, I'm so sorry…" you mumbled.

You looked up at him with teary eyes and in that moment, JJ was sure he had never been met with a more beautiful sight. Even glossed with tears, JJ was positive he had never looked into eyes as clear as yours. He watched as you scrambled to wipe away the tears that were still spilling over and mask the sounds of sniffling.

"Hey, hey, hey, you're okay." JJ set down the tray and crouched to be at eye level with you. "Wha's gotcha so upset? Far too pretty to be crying like that…" His last statement was barely above a whisper, brought into existence before JJ even knew he was saying it.

You glanced away, biting the skin of your thumb, "It’s all too much, it's just… I-I just couldn't…" You were trembling, shaking like a leaf. JJ knew if you kept this up you would probably pass out from lack of oxygen and/or gnaw straight through your finger.

"Hey, look at me." He reached out, gently taking your hand away from your mouth and bringing your attention to him. "Deep breaths." For a moment JJ thought he may be overstepping, but something in him had switched to autopilot, set on helping you, comforting you. "Breathe with me. In." He paused to take a deep breath, "And out." He slowly blew the air out of his lungs before repeating the process and the mantra. "In�� and out…"

He watched as your trembling slowed and your body seemed to relax at his words. "There she is." He gave you a smile and you reciprocated with a small one of your own, "See? Knew you were far too pretty to be cryin’ like that," JJ helped you to stand. He thought you were about to say something before his name caught his attention.

"JJ, what the fuck are you doing man?" JJ looked behind him to see Ben peek his head out from the hallway. "If Mr. Burton sees you fucking around again, he’s gonna cut your ass."

"Shit…" his attention was brought back to you. "Sorry pretty girl, I gotta go." he grabbed his tray before giving you one last glance. "It’ll be okay. Don't let anyone make you believe otherwise. That includes yourself!"

And with that he was gone, leaving you with puffy eyes and a soft smile. JJ didn't know that he also left you wondering why anyone would be so sweet to you and that soon you would be clamoring to know more about the dirty blonde that went by JJ.

After his shift, JJ went straight to the Chateau, where he now found himself hanging off one of the chairs on the porch and regretting just about every word he had said in the last 15 minutes. He didn’t know how you got brought up and he certainly as hell didn’t know why, considering the two of you had barely a 10-minute interaction and you only said 5 words to him.

Regardless of circumstances, he was now getting berated with questions from two of his best friends, fearing it would only get worse when Kie and Sarah made their way back out onto the porch.

"Shit man you should have at least asked for her name!" John B exclaimed almost tipping over the beer bottle that was haphazardly perched on the arm of his chair.

JJ rolled his eyes, "I wasn't exactly thinking about that!"

"Yeah, I can only imagine what you were thinking about." Pope chuckled to himself. "Speaking of, what did she look like?"

JJ didn't want to tell his friends that you were the most gorgeous human he had ever seen "I don't know man, she looked like every other Kook princess running around." JJ could only shake his head at how unconvincing his voice sounded.

"Bullshit!" John B laughed at his best friend's failed attempts to mask his budding feelings.

"What are you halfwits arguing about?" The three boys looked up to find Kie and Sarah stepping out of the Chateau. Sarah made herself comfortable on John B's lap while Kie sat on the couch next to Pope.

"JJ's in love."

"Wha- fuck you, Pope!"

"With a mystery Kook," John B added.

"Oooo! Tell me more!" Sarah loved gossip and loved the idea of JJ showing interest in a girl that went beyond the realm of a one-night stand.

JJ stood from his seat, "I'm just gonna go walk into the ocean while y'all have fun."

"Oh, sit down," John B waved his hand and JJ returned to his seat. "We're just fucking around, JJ."

"So how did we meet this mysterious Kook Princess?" Kie leaned in, her elbows on her knees.

"Don't matter. For all I know, she's some rich bitch Touron and I'll never see her again."

With that, the conversation fell to other topics, but JJ's thoughts were still on you. Your soft smile. Your puffy eyes. Your lavender dress. He would never admit it, but he was hoping that he was wrong and that he would be lucky enough to see you again.

It had been a week since JJ’s interaction with you and with no signs of you at the club, he feared that he was right. You were gone and he was left with only the memory of your lavender dress and beautiful eyes.

Or so he thought…

Little did he know that you had been looking for him whenever you entered the country club. You just so happened to miss each other, just barely, every time.

He was walking back from the kitchen when he heard his name being called from down the hallway. “JJ?” The voice sounded small and apprehensive but familiar.

When he turned around, he was greeted by the same beauty from the week before, only you had shed your fancy lavender dress for something a bit more casual, shorts and a flowy white shirt.

When he didn’t respond she continued, "That's your name, right? JJ?"

"Uh yeah. That's me. Um, how can I help you?" A look of confusion danced across his face. He half expected you not to remember him and was waiting for you to ask him for a drink or complain about the hors d'oeuvres.

"I wanted to thank you for the other day…" When his confused look didn’t cease, you couldn't help but continue, "I was the girl in the dress, crying her eyes out on the floor under the bar…" Your hair twirled around your finger in what JJ’s eyes looked to be nervousness.

He couldn't help but chuckle softly and shake his head. Of course, he remembered you; how could he forget, you plagued almost every thought he had had in the last week. He was more taken aback by your kindness.

"I get like that sometimes…" you continued. "Sorta like a tidal wave, once it starts it's hard to stop… but you helped me calm down and you didn't even know me… don’t even know me. So, I-I just wanted to thank you…" your voice faded out as you looked down at your pristine, white Converse.

"No problem." JJ watched as you turned to walk away. Wishing he could bring himself to say something, anything that would make you stay for just a second longer. But JJ knew a girl like you would never go for a guy like him.

Your voice pulled him from his thoughts, not noticing that you had turned to face him once more, "Would you like to hang out, sometime?"

Disbelief flashed over his features, "You wanna hang out with me?" This had to be some kind of trick, at any moment some Kook fucks would jump him for thinking he could so much as look at you.

"If not that's fine! It's probably super weird that I asked that! You don't even know me…"

JJ heard the increased anxiousness in your voice and noticed you starting to gnaw nervously at your fingers once again. "Hey, calm down." He made his way closer to you and gently pulled your hand away once more. "Deep breath for me." He watched as you did what you were told. He released your hand before speaking again, "You really want to hang out with me? You realize I'm not like your kook friends, right? I don't have a pretty Benz to drive you around in and I barely have 20 bucks to my name."

"I just moved here, and I don't really have any friends." A look of embarrassment washed over your face, "not that we have to be friends!" You paused, taking another deep breath. JJ could see you trying to fight off the waves of anxiety as they hit you, "It's just- you seem genuinely nice and that seems a bit hard to come by around here…"

JJ's tongue pressed against his cheek as he smiled. "Got your phone?"

You nodded, pulling the device out from the back pocket of your shorts. You unlocked it and handed it to the blonde where he proceeded to put his number in. You looked at the new contact name when he handed your phone back.

JJ Maybank 🌊

You couldn’t help but smile.

"I’m off all day tomorrow, maybe I could show you around the island or something?”

You couldn’t hide the excitement in your voice. “That would be great! Um, I should get going, but I’ll text you?”

“Sounds like a plan, lavender girl.” He gave you a parting smile and a wink before returning to work.

"No need to ask. He's a smooth operator!" Pope’s voice rang out as the three boys made their way down the dock to the HMS Pogue.

John B was quick to join the other man in song, as the three jumped on board, "Smooth operator!"

JJ made his way to the bow looking like he was about to jump into the murky water below, “That's it! I'm never telling you guys shit ever again!"

“Relax, J!” John B pulled his friend off the edge, “Like you didn't give me this much shit with Sarah."

"If not more," Pope laughed as he started the boat.

While that was definitely true the blonde rolled his eyes.

"So, what's the plan?" Pope continued as he lowered the anchor. "This doesn't feel like your usual catch-and-release."

“Man, I don’t know, she’s a fuckin’ Kook. I told her I could show her around the island since she just moved here but I’m not sure she’s gunnin’ to see how the other half lives.”

“Hey, you never know. She might surprise you,” John B had a look in his eyes that told the world that he was thinking about Sarah in that moment.

“Sounds like she has so far,” Pope couldn't help but take a couple more jabs at his friend's expense, never having seen the blonde like this before.

With that, JJ’s mind ran through all the possible things the two of you could do tomorrow. Only to be interrupted by the ping of his phone.

*PING*

Unknown Number - Hey it’s Y/N.

*PING*

Unknown Number - Lavender girl…

JJ felt his heart skip a beat. Part of him didn’t think you would actually contact him.

*PING*

Unknown Number – Are you still free tomorrow?

Contacting him was one thing but actually wanting to hang out with him? He quickly saved your contact in his phone, the nickname he gave you seemed appropriate. He ignored the small flips in his stomach brought on by the thought of you.

*PING*

Lavender Girl - If you still want to hang out, that is.

JJ couldn’t help but smirk and shake his head at your nervousness, not noticing Pope glancing at the digital exchange.

“She uses commas when she texts? Girl after my own heart.”

JJ pushed the other boy, “Fuck off, Pope!”

Do we like? Do we want a part 2? If the answer is yes, do we have suggestions/ideas for part 2? If the answer is also yes please share!

As always, feedback, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

OBX Taglist: @daisydark @Ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist @lillyxlillian @jjsfavgirl

𝑊𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑎 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑑? 𝐿𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 💜

[thezombieprostitute]

Trying

A/N: Written for @the-slumberparty's December Daze Challenge.

Prompt: here, take my jacket.

A/N2: Follow up to this ask. Takes place in the same town as What's Mine. Reader is female, no other physical descriptors used.

Warnings: Controlling behaviors, Implied smut, Non/dubious consent. Let me know if I missed any!

Within the first week of Steve finding you, he'd replaced all of your clothes with ones he liked. Dresses and skirts that gave him easy access. Low cut shirts that did nothing to hide the tattoo he'd made you get when you were first together, marking you as his. He threw out all of the foods he thought weren't good "for a mother-to-be" including the coffee. And if you even looked at a bottle of alcohol Steve would give you a lecture on being careful for the baby's sake. Never mind that every pregnancy test had turned up negative so far.

Not for lack of trying, though. Steve had been making good on his promise to get you pregnant, to give you the kids you'd once told him you wanted. As many times as you pleaded for mercy, he seemed insistent on making up for lost time. It would be sweet if it were wanted.

You wake up from a nightmare only to find yourself living in one. Steve slumbers next to you, gently snoring. There was a time you would have stuck around, adoring how handsome he looks. But now your only thought is getting away from him, even if it's just for a minute.

As sore as you are from Steve's attempts at breeding you, it surprises you that you're able to walk. You make it to the kitchen, eager for a warm drink, and have to fight back tears when you remember that you're not even allowed hot cocoa. You grab a packet of hot apple cider mix and brew that up for yourself instead. When it's done, you walk out the to porch and have a seat, trying to enjoy the cool weather with a warm drink.

The weather is colder than expected but you don't mind. It matches the coldness you feel in your heart. Well, that's not entirely true; you're also burning up with guilt. You genuinely thought this small town would be beneath Steve's notice, that it would be a safe place for you. You never intended for him to follow you, much less bring his entire gang with him.

The poor librarian, especially, got the raw end of the takeover. Bucky and Steve were all smiles when they introduced you two, as if you hadn't already known her. Steve's told you several times how happy he is that Bucky's got himself a girl and is settling down. You're just glad she has yet to lash out at you for cursing her with Bucky. The two of you have yet to be left alone so you can't express this, but you hope your body language conveys how sorry you are.

You hear your name roared and you nearly drop your empty mug.

"I'm out front, Steve," you call out. You can't go back in yet. The fresh air is all that's helping with your sanity.

Steve storms out the front door soon after. "What the hell, Bunny?! Do you have any idea how scared I was when I woke up and you weren't there? I practically had a heart attack!"

"I'm sorry, Steve," you sniffle. "I just...I'm not yet used to being back together again. I'll try to remember. I'm so sorry."

He softens a little at the tears forming in your eyes. "You left me once before and I went on a rampage thinking someone had stolen you. You can't just leave me alone in bed anymore, Bunny."

"I am sorry, Stevie."

He smiles at the nickname. You were the only person ever allowed to call him that. You're glad it seems to have the effect of calming him even further. He heads inside for a moment and comes back out with this coat.

"Here, take my jacket," he gently orders. "Can't have my girl getting sick, especially if she's carrying our baby."

"I...I do need to ask..." you hesitate as you put the jacket on. It's the only thing that's allowed to cover up your tattoo. "What happens if I can't have kids?"

Steve sighs as he sits next to you. He gently maneuvers you so that you're sitting on his lap and he pushes your head down to rest on his shoulder. "Is that why you've been so stressed out lately?"

"Part of it," you admit. You don't dare tell him the full truth.

"If it turns out we can't have kids, we'll look at adoption."

"Not a surrogate?"

"Not exactly. Bucky's offered to knock up his girl and let us adopt the kids."

You're frozen in shock. You know Bucky can be cruel but this felt like a new low for him.

"Why not just knock her up yourself?" you blurt out.

"Ah, so that's what you're actually worried about." You're not sure what he's talking about but you stay silent. "Bunny, no one could ever replace you. I know you didn't leave because I was too controlling, you're smart enough to know I was keeping you safe. You were scared I'd get tired of you, not want you anymore. I saw how you looked at some of the girls at the bars. I promise, I never gave them a second look after you came into my life. You're it for me, Bunny." He gives you a gentle squeeze to emphasize his sincerity.

You feel numb. All that work to get away from him and he still found you, still took over your life. And he's promised to always be there to control you. You let the tears fall, hoping he'll see them as tears of relief instead of despair. He gently rubs your cheek and alternates coos and kisses to your forehead.

"Let's get you back to bed," he smiles. "Your period tracker thing says you're not ovulating yet, but you never know. Besides, Bucky's foaming at the mouth to knock up his girl." Your brows knit in confusion. "Years ago Bucky and I agreed our kids would grow up together. But whoever found their girl first got to have the first kid. The sooner you make me a dad, the sooner Bucky gets to become one."

"That's--" you stop yourself short of calling him insane. You know it wouldn't go well for anyone. "That sounds like fun. It's nice to know I won't be alone in pregnancy troubles. And I'm sure our kids will be natural friends."

Steve's smile grows. "That's my Bunny. Now lets get back inside so we can keep trying."

Tagging:

@alicedopey; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness;

@lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

[epiphainie]

😱 i've seen "buck comes over randomly and finds tommy with another dude" a couple of times and i want SO MUCH MORE 🙏 underutilized knife to be twisted!

@teabroomsandbooks and anons. i don't know if this will ever be a completed fic but i loved starting it lol, thanks for making me write this one 🫶

___

Tommy's place was an hour and twelve minutes away from the firehouse 118, across the city, out of the way. A seventy-two minute drive, before the morning traffic jammed the roads and slowed down time. As the clock on the Jeep's dash changed from 5:18 to 5:19, Buck knew he wasn't going to make it to the shift relief on time today.

It'd probably be a good idea to let Bobby know.

He didn't know how to say it, though. That he was parked at the end of Tommy's street, watching his door on the rearview mirror. That he'd been parked here since before the sodium lamps dotting the road had even come to life. It was still dark, dawnbreak still away, but at least he had that golden glow over his car, highlighting the creep creeping on his ex at this ungodly hour.

Buck just... couldn't sleep. His kitchen smelled like sourdough starter and his bed felt too empty and too cold even with all the pillows he'd stacked around him, and Tommy had bubbled him. Sure, it'd been weeks ago – the breakup longer than a month behind them now – but lying there on his chilly bed, wide-eyed, Buck just remembered the bubbles. Or couldn't forget about them. Something like that.

He just wanted to talk to Tommy. He just wanted to say something about Eddie leaving and Maddie being pregnant and Bobby being busy with the new Grant-Nash house. He just wanted to ask something. For a clarification of some sorts. Something between 'What did I do wrong?' and 'Why did you even start if you were always going to leave?'

You're the first person who left me when all I heard was that they desperately wanted to stay.

It didn't make sense.

Buck rubbed his eyelids. He looked at the rearview mirror again. Along with the sodium lamps, a single light in Tommy's house had flickered alive. It was the one between the living room and the entrance. The first night Buck had stayed over, Tommy had joked about it being easier on his old pair of eyes as they'd maneuvered around the otherwise dark house getting ready for work.

Tommy would leave in about twenty minutes. Maybe ten if he fancied coffee from that cafe three blocks over that he'd pretended was just okay. 

Mind made-up, Buck released a breath, and tore his keys from the ignition. If anything, he needed to dump all these useless Tommy facts he'd had somewhere and maybe that place could be Tommy's threshold.

He hunched in his walk to the door. He knocked, twice, and waited. Anything more felt too desperate and Buck was sick of feeling desperate.

The door opened to Tommy, his chest exposed, ass jean-clad, hair still mussed. His blue-gray eyes flashed with recognition and something else, and quickly dimmed back.

“Buck,” he said, stepping out to his porch, and pulling the door ajar behind him. His voice sounded low, deep, with that cadence that would fire up a whole different feeling in Buck just a couple of weeks ago. It'd also call him by another name. “What are you doing here?”

As it stood, it just made Buck run his palms on his thighs with nerves.

“I'm sorry,” he said, then cleared his throat. Sticking his hands in his pocket, he took a fortifying breath. “I know it's early, I just…” The breath left him. “Can we talk?”

Tommy stared at him. He didn't look particularly happy or upset about seeing Buck, but Buck could see the line of awkwardness in the way he was standing. His eyes flicked to the door and back and his mouth pinched. “Look, I'm not su–”

“Just talking,” Buck said. Okay, maybe a little desperate. “I'm not here to start a fight or anything, I just want to talk.”

Tommy shook his head. “Not now.”

“Tommy, please, I just need to–”

“Tommy!” interrupted, calling out from inside the house. It wasn't a deep voice, but it certainly belonged to a guy and it was wide-awake, sing-songy, in that playful way reserved for people who weren't just friends.

The door nudged behind Tommy. “Here you are.” Shock of black hair popped out. “So, question. Would you find me using your toothbrush absolutely gross or irresistibly erotic? Because I'm– Oh! Hey.”

He had a dimpled smile. Even with the question laced there dimming the shine of it in his eyes, it was a good smile. Tommy loved good smiles, dimpled ones, sunny ones.

Buck bit on his lip too hard, he tasted copper.

“Evan…”

His eyes slid to Tommy's, then to the hand reaching for him. Before Tommy's touch closed on his elbow, he took a back step down the stairs and turned around.