#I put some ice on it hoping it would be back to normal after I got some sleep

[ineed-to-sleep]

*me immediately after going through a terrifying and traumatic experience* haha yeah I guess it was rough but I'm fine now like I'm totally chill. It was kinda funny actually if you think about it

[yuujispinkhair]

I WANNA BE YOUR ENDGAME – Chapter 08

🏒❤️ A Hockey Romance feat. modern!Sukuna

Pairing: HockeyPlayer!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: College AU, Hockey AU, fluff + smut Playlist: I wanna be your Endgame Word Count: 5k Warnings: 18+, smut, cigarettes, alcohol, hockey injuries. Fuckbuddies to lovers. Reader is a creative writing student. Sukuna is an ice hockey player + history student. This story will have approximately 12 chapters. Minors don't interact. Header by me. Divider @/benkeibear

MASTERLIST

You lie awake for hours. What happened between you and Sukuna during the private ice skating lesson? Didn't the whole thing in the hockey arena feel too romantic and too intimate for just fuckbuddies? Do friends with benefits really kiss each other like that?

You feel strangely smitten, almost shy, when you think about your evening with Sukuna. He was such a gentleman, making sure you didn't slip and fall on your ass, helping you exit the ice and make your way to the bench, where you could put on your shoes again. You left the arena, and Sukuna ruffled your hair and made a joking comment about how you had screeched when you set foot on the ice for the first time. And you playfully hit his biceps and told him to shut up. But your heart was racing, and your face felt too hot, and you are sure you giggled like some teenager with a big fat crush.

Sukuna walked you back to your dorm, and you teased each other the whole way. You asked Sukuna if he wanted to come in, and he agreed with his typical sexy smirk. You spent an hour in your bed, low groans and soft mewls and the rhythmical sound of your headboard banging against the wall filling your room.

And now, Sukuna is gone again, but your pillow still smells like him. And you stare at the ceiling, unable to get that kiss in the hockey arena out of your head. A kiss that felt too romantic, too tender.

You know your little private ice skating lesson wasn't a date, but why did it almost feel like one? If you are honest with yourself, the hour spent ice skating in Sukuna's arms felt nicer than any real date you had.

You wonder if Sukuna is lying awake, too? Does he ask himself the same questions you are asking yourself? You want to convince yourself he isn't aware of it. But there's a small voice in the back of your mind reminding you how good Sukuna is at analyzing things. You are sure he can see how close the two of you have become, too.

But does he care? Does he want more? Or is it just fun for him? You know Sukuna has that bad reputation that paints him as a fuckboy. But is he, though? The thing is that ever since the two of you started your little arrangement, Sukuna seems to only fuck one girl... and that girl is you. And then there are all those little things Yuuji says that sometimes sound like he is dropping hints about Sukuna possibly liking you as more than just a casual fuckbuddy.

"Oh shit."

You groan and pull your blanket over your face, hiding yourself even deeper in the comfort of your bed. The little hopeful spark and the butterflies in your stomach scare you. You know this feeling all too well, and you don't want it!

You told yourself you would get through college without the complications of romantic feelings. All love ever did was cause you heartbreak and pain. You swore off it after the disappointment that your ex-boyfriend was. You swore to yourself that you would just have fun when you go to college. Nothing serious. No relationship. No feelings. Just fun. And this fuckbuddies arrangement with Sukuna had seemed so perfect for what you wanted. But what now? What if you suddenly develop feelings for Sukuna?

You cannot let that happen. You have to fight it!

Get a fucking grip!

You see Sukuna the next day, and you manage to act normal around him, ignoring the fluttery feeling in your stomach when he smirks at you and lets his large hand slowly trail down your arm to steal your heavy stack of books out of your hands and carry it for you to your classic literature classroom. He makes a comment about you obviously being too weak to carry it on your own while giving you one of his devilish looks, and you roll your eyes and yank the books out of his arms even though Sukuna already carried them all the way to the classroom.

You agree to meet him for lunch, and by the time the two of you have finished your meals and bickered playfully over all kinds of things, you feel better. More in control again. You can do this. You can continue this fuckbuddies thing with Sukuna without making things awkward. Even if his boyish smirk and those pretty, maroon eyes and mouth-watering muscles make your pulse race. It's fine. Sukuna is your friend. Just that. Just a very hot guy-friend who fucks your brains out anytime you feel like it.

It's perfect the way it is. You wouldn't want to risk losing this.

Sukuna asks you to see him after hockey practice, and you spend an hour in his bed that evening, moaning into his pillow and laughing against his buff biceps afterward when he lies next to you and shows you a funny video on his phone.

You steal a drag from Sukuna's cigarette that he smokes by his window, and he grins at you and pulls you into a kiss with that sexy, teasing tongue flick at the end before he tells you to be a good girl and go home to study for your classic literature course so you can join him in the top-grades-getter-league.

It's Friday, and Nobara keeps bugging you about joining her for a night out at a popular club, claiming that you will get a bad case of FOMO if you don't come with her. You doubt her words, but you have to admit that maybe a girls' night with some dancing and some fancy drinks is exactly what you need to get your mind off a certain pink-haired hockey player, and so you laugh and tell her to help you pick an outfit.

Nobara was right about the club being amazing. You really have a lot of fun, sipping on some pastel-colored sweet cocktail and dancing and laughing with your dormmate, feeling as if this is the authentic college experience.

The club is a popular meeting spot for college students. You see so many familiar faces. And so, it should probably not come as a surprise when you see several hockey players. You try not to do it, but your gaze keeps wandering through the club, searching for one particular Tiger.

And you find him.

He is leaning casually against a pillar, laughing at something his brother is saying to him before Yuuji gets pulled onto the dancefloor by Todo. Sukuna stays where he is, lifting a bottle of some vodka mix drink to his lips and tilting his head back to gulp it down. His Adam's apple bops enticingly, making you involuntarily lick your lips.

You have stopped dancing, you realize. Too busy staring at Sukuna.

Damn, stop it!

You shake your head and laugh, grabbing Nobara's hand to spin her around, forcing yourself to get back into your little fun time with your friend. But even as you dance with her, your gaze keeps straying back to your fuckbuddy, who is still standing at the same spot.

Several hockey players gather around Sukuna, laughing, chatting, and drinking together. Tequila shots this time. It looks like the whole team is here tonight, maybe celebrating something. Sukuna hasn't spotted you yet, and you use that chance to let your eyes trail slowly over him.

He looks hot. He always does, of course. Tall, athletic, and handsome. The tight black t-shirt he is wearing shows off his well-defined muscles and sexy tattoos. The expression on his tattooed face is aloof and bored, making him probably look even more attractive to all the girls who are eyeing him. Sukuna is a challenge. The bad boy, who seems so hard to please. The tough guy who seems like he never smiles. But you have seen his smile and know how to get it out of him.

You are about to walk over to Sukuna to greet him, but you freeze up when you watch a pretty girl dance up to him, a seductive smile on her face. You feel your stomach clench anxiously. The girl gets on her tiptoes, a sugary smile on her beautiful face as she says something to Sukuna. Her hand sprawls over his pecs, her body leaning closer and closer to him.

But Sukuna shakes his head at her and plucks her hand off him with a cold sneer on his beautiful face. He points a long, tattooed finger at one of his teammates and steers the girl over to him.

And as fast as that strange feeling in your guts appeared, it is gone again, and instead, you catch yourself grinning from ear to ear.

And suddenly, that maroon gaze is on you. You draw in a sharp breath, staring back at Sukuna as the seconds tick by.

Sukuna's tattooed face lights up with a broad grin, and he pushes himself off the pillar he was leaning against. Your pulse is racing as you watch him walk over to you while Nobara is laughing. Sukuna stops in front of you, tall and sexy with that boyish smirk and looking so good in his tight black t-shirt and jeans.

"Hey, princess."

The words come out slightly slurred. You tilt your head to smile at him, noticing the somewhat unfocused look in his usually so sharp eyes. He is drunk, you realize. His grin turns into a lopsided smile, and somehow, it makes him look almost cute. Softer around the edges. He seemed so aloof a moment ago when he turned that girl down, but now he is all playful again when he reaches out to wrap his strong arms around your waist and pull you against him.

"Fuck, I'm glad you're here, too, princess. I was so fucking bored."

He jerks his chin at Nobara in a greeting, informing her with a smirk,

"I am stealing her for a while. Find someone else to dance with, Ginger. What about my brother? He is a good dancer. Get him before someone else does."

Nobara complains loudly, smacking Sukuna's biceps while telling him that hockey players suck in general and pink-haired ones in particular, but you can hear the smile in her voice, and she really half-walks, half-dances away from Sukuna and you, looking for another dance partner.

You chuckle softly as Sukuna pulls you to him, making you stumble into his firm body. You put your hands on Sukuna's abs to brace yourself, grinning up at him, your pulse fluttering at being so close to him. His body heat seeps through his shirt, and his firm abs move under your palms when he leans down to press a sloppy, wet kiss on your cheek,

"Come on, dance with me so Todo and the brat get off my dick and stop pestering me about dancing with them."

Sukuna pulls you with him to the middle of the dancefloor, where the rest of the hockey players are. You don't even have time to complain or feel embarrassed about your dancing skills because Sukuna's strong arms are wrapped so firmly around you that you can't really make any move on your own anyway. And the drinks you had make you tipsy enough to just go with it and laugh loudly as Sukuna grinds against you.

You find yourself relaxing, just having fun with Sukuna and his teammates, dancing dirty with Sukuna while singing along to the songs, and smiling when Sukuna grins at you. You wrap your hands around Sukuna's neck, letting him sway you from side to side, or press his tall, muscular body tightly against yours to grind against you slowly.

It seems only natural that the two of you kiss. Sloppy, drunk kisses that make you chuckle against Sukuna's lips, feeling a lot more intoxicated than you truly are. It feels exhilarating to dance and make out with him here in the middle of the club.

Sukuna's hands are all over you, running up and down your back and groping your ass. He slips his hands into the back pockets of your jeans and pulls you even closer to him, and you let your nails trail over his short undercut, smiling when it elicits a low growl from the back of Sukuna's throat.

He trails hot, wet kisses over your chin to your neck, and your breath hitches. It's new to be like this with Sukuna in public, but you can't deny how exciting it feels to have him all over you. Drunk Sukuna is clingy, you realize. He doesn't let you move away even a step. His large hands immediately squeeze your ass, pulling you to him again while his lips trail kisses over your neck and his sexy low voice murmurs in your ear,

"Need you, baby."

Your heart skips a beat. You know Sukuna is just drunk, and it means nothing, but you can't help but feel a fluttery tingle in your belly and chest at his words. You smile and grab Sukuna's chin, pulling him into another kiss to shut him up before he can say anything else that will make you spin out of control and that he might regret in the morning.

You weakly try to decline when Sukuna whispers in your ear that he wants you to go home with him. But he won't let go of you, clings to you, and kisses you all sweetly before he looks at you with a cute little pout that looks hilarious on his tattooed face. His voice is a bit thicker than usual, tongue heavy from the alcohol, making you wonder how many shots he had.

"Don't leave me alone, princess. Who knows what kind of trouble I will get into without my personal lucky charm by my side."

He keeps grinning at you and bugging you until you agree to leave with him, even if it is just to put him into bed. You let Sukuna put a muscular arm around your shoulders while his other arm pulls his twin brother to his side, and the three of you make your way outside while you hastily type a message to Nobara, telling her you are leaving with the twins.

You laugh when Sukuna throws his car keys to his brother, even in his drunk state, not forgetting about the beef he has with Yuuji over his beloved car,

"You drive, brat, but if you get even the tiniest scratch into my car, I will punch that stupid smile off your face."

You sit in the backseat with Sukuna while Yuuji drives. Or, more like, you lie in the backseat because Sukuna is on you the moment the car starts. You spend the whole drive with Sukuna lying half on top of you, kissing you deeply, with those intense deep tongue kisses that make you moan into his mouth and knead his firm ass through his tight jeans.

"So greedy, huh, princess? Don't worry, I'll fuck you until you scream my name." "Oh, shut up. You are drunk. I'll just tug you into bed and then leave." "Don't you dare leave me alone. I had some drinks, yeah, but I am perfectly fine. I can still fuck you better than any other could." He smirks at you with that challenging glint in his eyes, and your pussy throbs, your conviction wavering. Sukuna licks your neck slowly, teasingly, before he captures your lips in another deep kiss, successfully making you change your plans. Your hands slip under his shirt, caressing his hot, smooth skin, kneading his buff muscles, smiling when you hear him groan into the kiss. You go with Sukuna to his room and watch him take off his clothes, heart pounding in your chest as he turns around and beckons you over, his sexy muscles and tattoos unashamedly on display for you, and his gorgeous thick cock already half hard, waiting for you to stroke him to full hardness so you can have fun with him. Sukuna fucks you with sloppy, lazy strokes and those deep French kisses that make your pussy and your tummy flutter. You are gasping his name, wrapping your legs tightly around his narrow hips, mewling with every thrust, enjoying the drunk sex immensely. Sukuna fucks good, even when he had several drinks. The only thing that's different is that he is louder. And it's so sexy that it makes you clench around him, your eyes falling shut to bask in the sexy, loud moans falling from Sukuna's lips.

You really scream his name when you cum, and he moans yours when he follows you a few seconds later, hot thick cock throbbing inside you. Sukuna slumps on top of you afterward with a satisfied sigh, and you hum happily, caressing his neck and running your foot up and down his muscular calves and thighs.

You ask how late it is, but Sukuna doesn't answer.

"Sukuna?"

You push at Sukuna's broad shoulders only to hear a soft snore coming from him, realizing he fell asleep on top of you. You laugh and relax, letting a hand trail slowly up and down Sukuna's broad, muscular back, caressing him while he sleeps soundly on top of you.

Sukuna is heavy, but you let him sleep, grinning to yourself, feeling oddly happy, lying here under the hockey star. After a while, Sukuna rolls off you, mumbling softly in his sleep, but it's incoherent, and you can't make out any words. It makes you feel surprisingly soft for him.

You roll onto your side, too and press a soft kiss to Sukuna's tattooed shoulder, murmuring,

"Good night, Kuna. Sleep well."

You are about to get up to collect your clothes from Sukuna's bedroom floor to get dressed and then sneak out. But before you can get up, a large hand wraps around your arm, stopping you, pulling you back against Sukuna's warm, naked body.

"Stay."

Just a single word, mumbled in a hoarse, sleepy-sounding voice.

You tense up. Does Sukuna know what he is asking? He never before asked you to stay the night, and he also never stayed the whole night in your dorm. It feels like a line fuckbuddies shouldn't cross. On top of that, you don't think Sukuna is the type who lets someone sleep in his bed. You know he's already making a huge exception when it comes to you by taking you to his room and fucking you in his bed. Apparently, that's something Sukuna never did with his former hookups because he thought his room was none of their business. And now he wants you to sleep in his bed the whole night?

You know you are overthinking it, but you simply can't stop worrying that you are somehow taking advantage of Sukuna's drunk state. The sex wasn't the problem because your whole arrangement is based on having sex with each other. But this is something different. Sleeping in Sukuna's bed feels like a big fucking deal! If you sleep here, will he regret it in the morning? Will he be mad? You don't want to overstep a boundary.

"Sukuna..."

"Shhh, no talking. Just stay."

And as if he read your thoughts, he adds in that slightly slurred voice,

"I swear I won't regret it in the morning. Stay. I'll even make you breakfast."

You chuckle softly and close your mouth again, not trying to argue anymore, nor do you want to. You smile and snuggle back against Sukuna's tall, warm body, sighing when his strong arms tighten around you, and he buries his face in your neck, instantly starting to snore again, sounding so cute that it makes you grin from ear to ear. The bad boy star player all cuddly and tame.

Even after your night in Sukuna's bed and the morning after, when he made breakfast for you just like he promised, you tell yourself you can just stay friends with benefits with him.

Nobara tries to rile you up, teases you endlessly, and tries to get you to admit you have feelings for Sukuna. But you turn her down anytime, adamantly declaring you only want him as a friend. A friend who is very good in bed and who you can have sex with any time the two of you feel like it.

You think if you just say it often enough, it will be true. You will be able to convince yourself you have everything under control.

And then the accident happens.

You're in your usual spot in the stands, watching the hockey game, cheering and laughing. The mood in the arena is ecstatic because it looks like the Tigers overcame their loss two weeks ago.

You hold your breath in giddy anticipation as Sukuna steals the puck from a rival player and speeds across the ice, his gaze on the goal ahead. His playstyle is high-speed and brutal, as always. It's sexy to watch. Until two rival players throw themselves in Sukuna's way.

You gasp loudly as Sukuna crashes full speed into the two players. All three go down, slamming hard into the ice with a heavy thud and the loud clatter of their hockey sticks skittering across the ice.

You are on your feet before you even notice it, a hand pressed over your mouth, staring wide-eyed at the ice where Sukuna is lying in a pile with the players he crashed into. The whole arena is yelling in shock because their star player went down, but you only hear it as a far-away noise because the blood in your ears is rushing much too loudly as your heart races fearfully.

What is going on? Why is Sukuna not getting up? You see the other jersey with the Itadori name speeding towards the scene. Yuuji pulls one of the rival players off his brother while yelling something you can't hear. He instantly gets attacked by several other players, but Yuuji fights back angrily, punching them and pushing them away from Sukuna.

Sukuna, who is still lying facedown on the ice. He isn't moving. Panic threatens to drown you, and before you know what you're doing, you start running and pushing your way through the crowd. Nobara is yelling your name, but you don't stop to wait for her.

You feel sick to your stomach. Your heart is pounding fearfully in your chest as you stop in front of the plexiglass, pressing your hands against the cold glass. Your anxious breath fogs up the glass as you watch the whole team and the team medic rush to Sukuna, who is still knocked out.

Or worse.

Tears are gathering in your eyes, and you feel a sob finding its way out of your mouth.

Please let him be okay! Please let him be okay! I never even told him how much I like him!

That's when you see Sukuna make a slight movement, and you huff a shaky sigh of relief.

The team medic is saying something to him, and Sukuna nods softly. You press yourself anxiously against the plexiglass, watching as the doc carefully pulls Sukuna's helmet off.

Yuuji and Todo help lift Sukuna onto a stretcher under the anxious gazes of the whole arena, which is filled with fearful silence.

You are still pressed against the plexiglass, watching as they carry Sukuna off the ice. Sukuna's eyes meet your worried gaze as they carry him past you. He lifts his head slightly, looking at you with a dazed expression. A dreamy look crosses over his tattooed face, and to your surprise, he smiles at you even as his maroon eyes seem unfocused and caught in some daydream.

Sukuna smiles a dreamy little smile at you while his lips move. You can't hear what he says, but you think you can read his lips, and what they murmur is something like "angel".

You stare after him, stunned, even when the stretcher is already getting carried to the back of the arena, away from your gaze.

The game continues, but the Tigers are out of it. The shock of seeing their star player get knocked out seems to sit in their bones. The cheerful and excited mood in the arena has dimmed almost completely. You bite your nails nervously as you stand at the boards, watching the game but not really seeing anything, too lost in your thoughts and worrying about Sukuna.

He was so fast when he crashed into those two players, and he seemed so out of it when they carried him off the ice. You were relieved to see him conscious again, but the shock still makes a painful knot remain in your stomach.

You practically flee from the rink once the game is finally over. But you cannot even consider the idea of going back to your dorm. Nobara walks up to you, reaching out to pat your back.

"Hey, I'm sure he is alright. That thick head won't crack from a bit of ice."

You smile weakly at her, knowing this is her being nice and sympathetic, but you still tell her,

"I'll wait here. Maybe I can talk to Yuuji."

"Okay, you do that. Let me know if Kirby Boy is okay."

You loiter around the lobby, waiting impatiently for a sign of pink hair. When Yuuji finally walks toward you, you hurry over to him with a fearfully racing pulse.

"Is he okay?"

Yuuji smiles that sweet, reassuring sunshine smile at you and nods,

"Yeah. He scared me, too. But he just has a concussion."

"A concussion?"

You stare at Yuuji worriedly, but he laughs softly and rubs your arm,

"It's no big deal. I get one almost every season. Kuna will be fine, don't worry. He just needs to rest for a day, or our coach will kill him."

You huff, feeling like Yuuji is downplaying it, or maybe this is really the way the hockey guys are. But his reassurance makes you relax anyway.

Yuuji cocks his head,

"I'm heading to our dorm to get the car because they won't let Sukuna walk home. Do you want to come with me?"

You nod and quickly hurry after Sukuna's twin brother.

When you finally see Sukuna after his accident, you curse loudly.

He is sitting on an examination table in the first aid room in the back of the arena, in his sweatpants and Nikes and the black compression shirt he always wears under his hockey jersey. His pink hair is ruffled, and he still looks as dazed as when they carried him off the ice. A dark blue bruise is already forming around his right eye.

Your heart clenches at the sight, and you find yourself hurrying over to Sukuna and hugging him lightly before you can stop yourself.

"Oh god, are you okay?"

You pull away a bit to look at him with big, worried eyes while you caress his biceps gently, afraid to hurt him if you touch him more firmly. As if the big, broad hockey player is a fragile porcelain doll. But you can't think rationally at the moment. All you see is that Sukuna is injured, and it triggers something in you, making you feel all protective and worried over him. And scared. So scared to lose him.

But Sukuna laughs softly and smirks at you. It's a bit crooked and a bit slower than usual, but it manages to calm you down regardless. A large, tattooed hand comes up to rest on your back.

"I'm fine, princess."

But you see how Sukuna can't seem to focus his gaze on you and how he squints his eyes against the bright neon light in the small room. Even if Yuuji hadn't told you about Sukuna's concussion, you would have figured it out by now. He belongs in bed, in his dark room with the curtains closed and lots of rest.

Luckily, Yuuji is already by his brother's side, pulling him up.

"Come on, let's get you home."

You help Yuuji, the two of you taking Sukuna in your middle and leading him slowly to the car. He complains all the way about how he can walk on his own and that he doesn't want Yuuji to wreck his car. You roll your eyes, but at least Sukuna seems to be halfway okay if he can talk like that.

You sit with Sukuna in the back of the car again. Not making out this time, but instead holding his large hand in yours and watching him worriedly, checking if he is still okay.

Once you are in Sukuna's room, you help him take off his tight compression shirt and sweatpants before telling him to get into his bed. He is a good boy for once and does as you say, lying down and letting you pull his blanket over him.

Sukuna looks up at you with that same dazed smile he had in the arena when they carried him past you and he thought you were an angel. It's an expression that seems so foreign on his face that it instantly makes worry flare up in your chest again.

Your decision is made at that moment. You grab the hem of your sweater, pull it off, and slip out of your jeans, crawling into bed to join Sukuna under his blanket,

"I'm staying. I don't think you should be alone right now."

Sukuna laughs softly, but his muscular arm wraps around you immediately and pulls you against his side. You sigh and snuggle against Sukuna, placing a hand on his naked chest, feeling his warm skin and his heartbeat, which is strangely reassuring.

Sukuna's low voice sounds tired but nonetheless smug when he murmurs,

"You're really worried about me, huh, princess? That's so cute."

"You were knocked out. Of course, I am worried. If you had seen the expression on your face when they carried you off the ice, you would have been worried, too!"

"Shhh, it's okay, princess. I'm just teasing you."

Sukuna's large hand lands on yours, holding it in place right there on his chest, his thumb caressing the back of your hand as he adds in a low voice full of amusement,

"I should get injured more often. I quite like it when you get all scared for me and dote on me like that."

"Oh, stop it. You are such an idiot. And don't you dare get into trouble!"

But Sukuna just laughs that raspy low laugh as you add firmly,

"You should get some sleep now. The doc and your coach said you should rest."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm on it."

And Sukuna really drifts off to sleep just a few minutes later, his body and brain obviously exhausted and in dire need of rest. You, on the other hand, can't find sleep for a long time.

You lie awake in Sukuna's bed, your palm resting on his chest, fingers sprawled over his defined buff pecs, feeling his heartbeat and listening to his soft breathing. The earlier anxiety has left your body now that you know Sukuna will be okay. But something else is keeping your mind busy.

You fucked up. You have a big problem, you realize.

Because what Sukuna's little accident clearly showed you is that he means a lot more to you than you planned.

I AM SO WEAK FOR HIM!! 😭 Tipsy Sukuna made me smile so much while writing 😍 He is so clingy and cute. "Need you, baby." I would have MELTED!! Did you feel protective over injured Kuna, too? I wouldn't leave his side either 😭 Thank you so much for reading the new chapter! I am so glad that I finally had time to post it. I missed our fave hockey player so much. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet. In Chapter 09, we will see Reader accepting her feelings + there will be jealous!Reader and jealous!Sukuna. And we will finally also see Sukuna's POV ;)

[jymwahuwu]

Wrote some pointless thirst. I know this is OOC because nothing official has been released😚 He's so hot... I can't control myself...

cw: dub-con, yandere

Capitano is super cool!!! He has his face covered 24/7. I would hazard a guess that there is a long and deep scar from the war on Capitano's face, or that there are many healed scars on his tightly wrapped chest and abdominal muscles. He held his chin as he relaxed, his long hair hanging down his back. Wrapped in dark fabric were thick muscles and thin nipples.

Capitano has the concept of "absolute righteousness". He requires you to comply with HIS norms, and he requires himself to comply with the ethics of the strong. "No, this is wrong." You murmured. And he argued with you in a commanding tone. He respects your right to express your opinion, but he doesn't want to see you siding with the enemy. In fact, he did not appreciate some of Fatui's actions in various countries. He'll appreciate it if you stop fighting him. While fighting for the Queen and Gnosis, he hopes he can protect you at the same time. He felt a crack in his stoic heart once he thought that you were too weak for the entire jungle and might be destroyed in the unconscious night.

Capitano's palms have some calluses over the years, and he is used to grabbing weapons and condensing ice and snow. He faced many enemies without even using weapons. His palms cupped the soft flesh of your buttocks, and his fingers dug slightly between your thighs through the fabric. Lift your whole body up and place it on his arms. (No matter what size you are,) it's as easy for him as picking up a piece of paper or lifting a kitten. Your eyes widened and you had to put your hands on his neck for balance. This is his way of moving you anywhere quickly. As your hands caressed his chest and applied ointment, he looked at you through the mask, then closed his eyes. He felt sorry for his thoughts that gave rise to indulgence and immorality.

Once Capitano returns from a fight, he lays you on the bed. gently. He pulled the soft fabric of your lower body and spread your legs, staring at the private part between your thighs. No matter how much you try to close your legs and change the subject, it doesn't work until you say a frustrated "…yes." His body will cover you, the long night will cover you, and that monster cock rubs you for a long time until you are so wet that it becomes a puddle and mud. He drove forward, controlling the lightest intensity.

"Too-too big…!! This is impossible!!" As he gradually advances and expands, the panic chases the pleasure and entangles your heart. Capitano doesn't understand. He felt that he was of normal size and nothing "impossible" would happen. Are you making too much of a fuss? He gritted his teeth and explored the deepest area more slowly but surely. Your eyes reflected "❤", and the sound of water responded to his desire, followed by a slow and deep push in and out. Gradually increase the speed until your waist bounces and your toes curl, forming an orgasm.

After you were too tired and fell asleep on the pillow, Capitano took off his gloves and caressed your cheek with the back of his hand. The sound of your sleeping breath and chest rising and falling. With his other hand, he tried to remove the mask, but stopped. The kiss was too soft and intimate for him now. He needs to complete his mission of taking away Gnosis from the gods and protecting the world from Heavenly principles first.

Capitano <3<3

[parkerluvsu]

need some virgin! art x touch starved! reader who really fucking needs some action and he just DOESN’T KNOW HOW so it’s a lot of laughter but both of them kiss so desperately…

I'D WANNA BE NEXT TO YOU..

(virgin art donaldson x touch starved! fem reader)

art has been your best friend since forever.. from sharing ice cream cones as kids to sharing homework answers in high school. you didn't want to lose him when he went all the way to stanford for college, so you went with him, stating that you already wanted to go to school there, it was just a coincidence that they had a tennis program for art. it was no secret that you two liked each other, it was obvious since you were young, and once you decided to follow art to college it was clear to him that he wanted to do something about it.

it was a normal sunny day at school, you made your way down the winding paths to the tennis courts like you usually do after class, knowing art is probably there practicing. he greets you with his usual smile and wave, walking over to say hi, spitting out his gum on the way. "hey, you're here earlier than usual" he says, "not that im complaining" you look away to hide the light blush forming on your face. "yeah well my lecture ended early, i thought i'd come surprise you" you smile, admiring the thin sheen of sweat on arts face, the moisture turning his hair curlier than usual. art says that his practice isn't over yet, but he'll come hang out at your dorm after. you nod, leaving and heading to your room to prepare. you know it's not normal to feel this pressure to be perfect for your friend, but you can't help but take a quick shower, slathering your body and hair in sweet smelling soap and spraying some perfume around the room.

you feel your stomach jump when art knocks on your door (you should really just give him a key), walking over and looking back at your room to make sure everything looked good, before opening the door. art immediately notices the sweet smell of you, his eyes fluttering shut as he greets you. "hi.. you smell nice" he says shyly, a big change from his demeanor earlier. you smile, waving him into your room and sitting cross legged on the bed. art sits next to you, on the edge of the bed, which you find strange, usually he gets comfortable right away. "are you okay art? you don't seem like yourself.." tilting your head to the side you try to meet arts eyes, but he doesn't look at you. "you know you can talk to me art, we've been friends since forever, you know?" he nods slowly, taking a deep breath before turning and facing you, sitting cross legged like you are. "okay.. ill tell you, but promise not to laugh at me okay?" you nod, urging him to speak more. "well.. patrick has been making fun of me a lot lately, you know how he is.. when he found out i was a virgin in college he couldn't believe it.. and- and i know we've been friends forever so i was wondering if you could help" he blurts it out so fast you have to take as second to actually understand what he means. "art.. are you sure? i mean wouldn't you want your first time to be with someone you like?" you ask, hoping you'll get the answer you're looking for. "i- it would be, if it was with you" he says, hanging his head down. he knows it's putting you in an awkward situation but it's now or never. you don't know why it happens, but you start to giggle, your heart filling with happiness after art confessed. "listen, art you know i'd do anything for you yeah? i just wanna make sure you actually want this.. with me, i don't want you to regret it" art looks toward you, finally meeting your eyes with his watery blue ones. "i could never regret anything i do with you" he says, leaning closer and pressing his lips to yours, sighing happily when you take control of the kiss, deepening it as you climb into his lap. pulling away and cupping his flushed face with your hands you press your forehead against his. "tell me if you want to stop okay art? ill take care of you i promise" he nods slowly, only looking at your lips and wishing they were on his again. you kiss him, more aggressively than before as you let your fingers wander down his chest, gently tugging at the hem of his shirt, feeling his flushed skin underneath. art gets the message, pulling off his shirt as he lets you do what you want to him, shifting from kissing him to sucking down his neck, leaving blooming purple marks in your wake that are sure to get art in trouble. he welcomes it though, he needs a reminder that you were actually here with him, that he wasn't imagining it. when you make your way back to arts mouth he whines softly, pulling at your shirt, "wanna see more of you.." you laugh softly, leaning back and pulling off your shirt, happy to press your own heated skin against arts. his head is reeling, the first girl he ever liked is kissing him, not just that but she's gonna take his virginity, art almost can't believe it, but feeling of you in his lap pulls him into reality.

after a few minutes you lean up on your elbows, telling art to take his finger out. "did i do something wrong?" he immediately asks, scared that he hurt you. "no no it's okay, i just think that im ready to have you inside of me okay?" he nods quickly and makes his way back up the bed, his hips hanging over yours. you fumble around on your nightstand to find a condom, taking it and handing it to art (who only knows how to put one on due to his embarrassing sex ed classes in high school) and spreading your legs wider to accommodate his frame. art looks quite anxious for someone who's about to lose his virginity with a girl he's liked his whole life, so you take his mind off of it by kissing him softly, not aggressively like before. when he starts to slowly enter you have to close your eyes at the stretch, he's not uncomfortably thick but he's definitely the longest you've taken. opening your eyes you're faced with art in the same situation, fully inside of you but not moving, his eyes scrunched closed. finding his hand white-knuckling the sheets next to your head, you replace the sheets with your own hand, lacing your fingers together. "art are you okay?" he nods, taking a deep breath. "yeah im fine it's just.. you're so warm and tight.. feels like i can't move" he almost whines, slowly dragging his hips out before pressing balls deep inside of you again. "fuck.." art swears he's in heaven when you clench around him, his forehead dropping to touch yours as he starts a steady pace, keeping in mind he could cum pretty much anytime. he can tell he's too nervous to get closer to you, so, making the move first you wrap your arms and legs loosely around him, feeling him actually relax and stop tensing his body. the closeness spurs him on as art sets a faster pace with his hips, now not even pulling out all the way, mostly just humping his hips into you. you weren't expecting him to perform as well as he is, feeling yourself clenching around him as you get closer. "art.. art im close.." you whine out to him and he nods, his eyes still closed as he squeezes your hand. as he gets closer you notice he also gets much louder, whines and moans escaping his lips with no sign of stopping, mostly utterings of "fuck you're so warm" and "please keep squeezing me like that" and though you love hearing him you know your neighbors will complain, so you kiss him yet again, still soft like before, and you can tell that both of you are trying to convey feelings of fondness through it.

you aren't surprised that art cums before you, with a loud moan that you're glad you had the foresight to stifle. it almost sends him into complete overstimulation when you cum, clenching tight around him. after the adrenaline wears off from cumming, art completely rests his body weight on you, his warm body actually weirdly comforting in the moments after sex. you sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before art finally pulls out, taking off the condom and throwing it in the trash before laying back down with you. "i really can't thank you enough.. i mean i thought losing my virginity would be awesome but.. that was like next level.." you laugh at arts flattering but funny wording as you flip onto your side, looking up at him. "of course art.. we've been friends forever, there's nothing i wouldn't do for you" arts stomach drops at the mention of friends, immediately thinking the worst. "so.. after this we'll just go back to being friends?" he has the cutest pout on his face when he asks. you almost laugh again, stopping yourself when you see the serious look on his face. "i mean after this i would hope that we could be more than that" you say, sitting up slightly. art let's out a breath he didn't know he was holding when you say that, "thank god.. ive been waiting to ask you to be my girlfriend for like 8 years now.." he smiles genuinely at you, his pretty blue eyes gleaming in the beams from the sun peeking through your window. you lean in, pressing a soft kiss before pulling away, reaching over for his backpack. "what are you doing?" he asks, confused when you hand him his phone. "don't you want to tell patrick the good news?"

art doesn't have much experience with his own pleasure, only finding time to jerk off quickly in the shower or to help himself sleep before bed, so he can't explain it when his hips start to cant against yours, whines and little moans escaping his swollen lips. you smile when his hips start to move, knowing that since it's his first time he probably can't help it, but you can't stop yourself from teasing him. "excited art?" you smile against him. he immediately blushes, hiding his face in your neck. "i- im sorry i don't know why that's happening.." he says, panting into your mouth. you giggle, feeling a bulge against you as you stop kissing art and look at him. arts lips are shiny and slick with spit, his chest and face flushed and his hair curled with sweat. "do you.. want to go further?" you ask even though you know the answer. he nods quickly, "yes.. please i do" you smile, happy with his answer, leaning forward and kissing him. you tap his hips with your hands to signal him to lift them, pulling off his gym shorts and exposing his boxers underneath. he gasps at the pressure of your hand on his bulge, the warmness of your hand feeling different (and much better) than his own. you look up at him, silently asking if you can go further and he nods, lifting his hips again to let you pull off his boxers, groaning when his drooling dick slaps against his tummy, smearing precum where it rests. art is so sensitive that even the air touching him makes him twitch. he looks away, embarrassed of his sensitivity and the fact that he's the only one naked. sensing his nervousness you say softly, "it's okay art, i knew you'd be sensitive, it's your first time after all, i was sensitive too" he smiles and nods, biting the inside of his cheek at the thought of you being the sensitive one.. but he'll save that thought for another day. he's brought rudely back into reality when you touch his dick softly, running your fingers gently from his flushed pink tip to his base, tightening your grip until art pretty much slaps your hand away. "i- im sorry i was too close, i don't wanna cum yet.." he says, trying to avoid the embarrassing truth that he just wants this experience to last longer. you nod, deciding to pull off your shorts and panties as well, for the first time feeling a bit embarrassed as art can't pull his gaze away from you. "you can touch me if you want to art.. i can help you" he nods wordlessly as you switch positions, now you lay back against your pillows as art hovers over you, desperate for the next step. "okay art, so before we do anything you have to prep me okay? it's best to use your fingers.." it's awkward to talk about it to him, but knowing it's his first time helps spur you along. "okay and.. and where do i put them?" art asks, looking up at you for guidance. you move him down the bed, so that he can be face to face with your pussy. the urge to squirm away or cover yourself up is hard to resist, and art is able to tell that, gently placing a warm hand on your inner thigh, the pressure calming you down. you take his other hand in yours, slowly guiding him down to your slit but letting him push a finger in on his own. he looks up at you constantly for validation that what he's doing is right, and feels good to you, his eyes widening when you clench around his finger, his dick twitching against the bed when he imagines how nice you'll feel against him. finally relaxing, you let art do his thing, blissfully rocking your hips against his hand. you're thankful that you're able to do most of the work, letting art just experience things for the first time.

[yelenasbraid]

take a breather — joe burrow

summary — its a few days after the loss to the chiefs and you and joe decide to go out for dinner. unfortunately, there’s kc fans everywhere

warnings — fem!reader, established relationship, reader gets defensive and starts gets in a fight, fluff, some suggestive comments, mean comments, implied smut

note — not every chiefs fan is like the one in this fic, i know that, but for the sake of this fic the reader interacts with a pretty mean one. also this is SO long y’all oops

THE LOSS TO THE CHIEFS was as shocking as it was devastating. for a while, you thought they were safe. you believed that the bengals would win against the chiefs, their longstanding rivalry. joe talked about how excited he was, he talked about how he was ready to take them on after the grueling practice they had.

so, when the chiefs won by one point, everyone’s heart dropped. anger and frustration swirled around in your head, the cold feeling of sadness making it a sour cocktail. it was a good game, filled with many good highlights and great plays, but you knew that joe was already beating himself up about it.

you tried your best to be there for him, reassure him and help build his confidence back up. the night after the game was the hardest, especially since you both were battling intense emotions.

flashback

the silence that fell between you was thick. you tried your best to remain neutral, to be a grounding force for joe. being home didn’t change that.

he didn’t bother speaking to you as he walked in, making a beeline for the stairs. you stopped in your tracks, trying your hardest not to cry.

“please talk to me,” you begged him softly. you knew that joe took things at his own pace, which normally meant alone. you’ve had to help him realize that he’s not alone, and that you could help share the burden.

“i’m not in the mood for talking, y/n,” he informed you, barely looking at you. you bit your lip and flicked your eyes up to the ceiling to stop the oncoming tears.

“do you want anything to eat?” you asked him, walking into the kitchen.

“no, i don’t.” he answered shortly. you nodded, and as he went to go up the stairs, you went to follow him.

“i want to be alone, just leave me alone, y/n,” he snapped, turning his eyes to you, eyes that were iced over. as much as you hated to do it, leaving him to his head, you inhaled and exhaled slowly.

“ok, i’ll be down here if you need me,” you told him, barely evoking a response out of him. so, that was that.

flashback end

joe did apologize for his behavior, swearing he was going to try his best to keep you with him. ever since that night, he’s done just that. he’s confided in you about more than he ever has, and you were proud of him for being vulnerable.

ever since that night, he’s also been clingy. he never wants you to feel the way you felt that night, the way he made you feel.

“we’re going on a date tonight,” joe announced as he walked in the door from practice. you looked up at him from your spot on the couch, raising an eyebrow.

“what?”

“we’re going on a date tonight, you know, the thing normal couples do,” he playfully reminded you. you smirked, putting a bookmark in the book you were reading and closed it. it was refreshing to see his eyes lit up, to see how he glowed with a renewed sense of hope.

“alright, where are we going, ya know, as a totally normal couple?” you played along with the joke, standing up from the couch and walking over to him.

“there’s a nice place downtown, the one we always say we want to go to but never do because of how busy we are,” he excitedly told you. seeing his smile again after the two losses was refreshing, but it also just made you fall even more in love with him.

“oh yeah, the place that apparently has really good burgers,” you smiled up at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “you asking me on a date, burrow?”

“why yes i am,” joe chirped. he was chipper, and you knew that he was taking the losses hard, but you also knew that he couldn’t feel down for long. joe knew his job for the next game, and he was going to finish it.

“then i accept,” you smirked, and in response joe leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips.

“good. i’m gonna get a shower, then the bathroom is all yours. we’ll leave around 6,” he told you as he made his way towards the stairs. his timeframe gave you about 2 hours to get ready, which was plenty of time.

“sounds good,” you replied, feeling butterflies build in your gut. despite having dated since your time at lsu, you still got butterflies whenever you and joe would go on a date. you guessed that feeling never goes away.

—

about an hour and half later, joe is dressed and ready sitting on the edge of the bed. you, on the other hand, are putting final touches on your outfit for the evening. it was something breathable, but cute. you put your earrings in and fluffed your hair. once you were happy with your look, you applied your perfume and put on your shoes.

“damn mamas,” joe commented as he watched you emerge from the bathroom. a blush crept up on your cheeks as you walked towards him.

“hope that’s a good thing,” you hummed as he stood up. he was dressed in a black button up, jeans, and platform van-type shoes.

“oh it definitely is,” he mused, leaning down and pressing a soft and quick kiss to your lips. he knew he’s been clingy, but he also knew you didn’t mind. ever since he got snappy with you, he’s never wanted to sound like that ever again. be knew there’d be losses, especially tough ones, but he needed to work on how he processed through it. he couldn’t drag you through the mud too.

“mmm good,” you hummed. it was in that moment you realized that you could stay with him all night, in that bedroom, on that bed and not go on a date. but, dates were rare during the season, and plus dates were fun. you and joey always had fun on your dates.

“we should get going, huh?” joe asked, almost sounding disappointed.

“i’m hungry, so yeah,” you chuckled, making joe crack that beautiful smile of his. you both walked out to the car, joe opening your door of course, and he got in the driver’s seat. he pulled out of the driveway and headed towards the restaurant.

—

the restaurant wasn’t packed, but it had a decent amount of people in it. the hum of conversations drew you in, but what pulled you in further was the sweet smell of food.

you two were quickly seated and ordered your drinks. you looked at the menu, browsing the different options.

“this all looks amazing,” you commented as your eyes saw a pasta section of the menu.

“if i were like, infinitely hungry, i’d get the whole menu,” joe agreed, and you snorted.

“ok, joey,” you laughed, shaking your head.

“what? think about it, if you never got full and have an infinite amount of space in your stomach, you could realistically have several meals in a sitting,” his eyes grew wide with this theory, and you loved whenever he got like this. it was the cutest — and hottest — thing ever, well, for the most part.

“ok, but what about your intestines? they’d be begging for mercy,” you replied as your drinks were settled in front of you. you ordered your choices of meals, gave the waitress your menus, and continued talking.

“ok well in a perfect world they wouldn’t be,” he replied, sass evident in his tone. you laughed, shaking your head as you took a sip of your water.

“i need to pee, i’ll be back,” you informed him, standing up from the booth.

“speaking of intestines,” he commented, earning a glare.

“that’s your bladder,” you whispered as you walked off. joe only rolled his eyes as he sipped his water. he watched as you disappeared into the bathroom, and patiently waited upon your return.

a few minutes later, he caught movement in his peripheral and he flicked his eyes over, hoping to see you. he did, but with a very different expression on your face.

“excuse me?” you seethed, your eyes wide with anger. the girl you were standing in front of had the audacity to speak ill of joe in front of you, but also to speak ill of you. in front of you.

“you heard me the first time, i said your boyfriend would have played better if he’d been getting taken care of at home,” the girl replied. it only enraged you further, especially since she had no right to be involved in yours and joe’s private life.

“and what does your boyfriend do? sit at home and criticize the guys he’ll never be?” your words were just as venomous, your adrenaline driving you even further.

“for all i care, i hope he tears a ligament again. all this hype around joe burrow needs to stop, or maybe he just needs to retire already,” she kept going, and you’ve never seen red before until that moment. this girl had no idea the rehab joe went through, the mental blocks he had to overcome just to get to this point.

words weren’t enough to voice your anger, the rage that fueled you. you laughed, allowing some of that tension to release, but also because you thought it was hilarious some random woman was criticizing joe burrow.

you took a step towards her, your hands curling into fists. you saw what joe went through, you knew of the dark place he went to after his injury. she didn’t, and it pissed you off that she wanted him to go back there again.

“i hope he has another season ending injury, so for once, other teams can have a chance and stop listening to bengals fans’ whining,” she continued on, and the more she did, the more her words added fuel to the fire. it was the final thread in a rubber band, and you snapped.

you shoved her away from you, your eyes hard and angry. you went for another, your muscles tensing to make sure this one hurt, but strong arms pulled you back. you knew it was joe because of his scent wafting over you, but you didn’t much care.

“don’t you dare,” you growled, fighting against the hold joe had on you. your hands tried to pry joe’s arms off of you, but your attempts were futile. what distracted you for just a moment was the feeling of his muscles rippling under his skin as you went to shove him off.

“i bet you got scared when that helmet came off, huh? well, i wasn’t,” she kept mouthing off, and you knew she was doing it on purpose. she wanted to see how far you’d go.

“it’s nice to say that when your team gets paid by the refs to win games!” you hissed, body tensing with every word. neither of you were going to back down, and joe could see that. he’s never seen you this angry, he’s never seen you go after someone like that.

“walk away, love,” he calmly told you, whispering in your ear. he moved to stand beside you, using one arm to hold you place instead of two. you strained against him, anger radiating from every pore. your straining made him eventually wrap his other arm around you again.

“y/n,” he looked down at you, and even though you weren’t trying to plow through him, you weren’t exactly backing down. it was admirable, really, how you went to war for him. you didn’t have to, but you did. you would defend him until your dying breath, even though he never asked for that. he just didn’t want you to get hurt.

“listen to your boyfriend y/n, this is a fight you’d lose anyway,”

“you’re not helping,” joe snapped, turning his eyes towards the girl. she didn’t seem to get the memo, not entirely caring that joe was addressing her. you, however, did notice. the way his jaw was clenched, the way his muscles were contracted, it was hot.

“why’s that?” you retaliated, anger still coursing through your veins. joe was trying to keep you from getting away from him. it wasn’t helping that the other girl kept moving towards you.

“because, unlike your boyfriend, you’re too pussy to fight anyone,” she was so confident it killed you. you managed to slip out of joe’s grasp, lunging for this girl, but joe caught you by the bicep. he drew you back, pressed a firm hand to your chest and walked you back.

“that’s enough,” he sternly told you, thankful you were walking with him. your eyes flicked to meet his, just for a moment, and in that moment you were the most turned on you’d been that whole day. feeling his hand firmly but gently guide you back, hearing the sternness in his words, it made that all too familiar ache begin to take hold in your stomach.

that feeling didn’t last long though. your irritation and anger came back the second you made eye contact with the girl again, wearing that obnoxious red jersey. you wanted to say something back to the girl, but no words were coming to your mind. your emotions were all over the place as joe walked you back. you watched the girl as her own group walked her away. they should’ve done that earlier.

you two left the restaurant, and once you were alone, you slipped away from joe’s grip.

“what the hell was that?” joe asked, now facing you, “i have never seen you that angry,”

“you heard what she said! she-she was saying all of these things about you, about how she wished you snapped your ligament again and retired! i couldn’t just let that slide!” you argued back, your adrenaline still on a high.

“you could have! people say stupid shit!”

“i saw what you went through! i’ve seen you rise above it, i’ve seen you grow and to have her laugh in the face of that is disgusting!” you defended, tears now pooling in your eyes. you watched as he processed, and you felt a tear drip down your cheek. there was a beat of silence. joe sighed, walked up to you and wiped the escaped tear with the pad of his thumb.

“you didn’t have to defend me, but, thank you for doing so. as much as i appreciate it, and don’t mind at all seeing you get fired up, i just don’t want you to get hurt,” he hummed, cupping your cheek with his hand. you sniffled, feeling your body crash from the adrenaline rush.

“i know,” you exhaled, “but next time we play the chiefs, we need to pummel them into the ground,” you sniffled, and joe just chuckled, bringing you into his arms.

“we will,” he promised, kissing the top of your head, “were you really scared when my helmet came off?” he asked, and you looked up at him in disbelief.

“yes, i was terrified,” you admitted, burying your head in his chest. you knew the likely hood of a concussion increased just because he played football, but you knew how scary they were. you’ve heard of too many players who’s seasons ended because of a concussion, or even worse, their lives ended.

“i’m ok, i promise,” he assured you. as he held you, his remembered the look you gave him earlier in the restaurant.

“what was that look for earlier?” he asked.

“what look?” you mumbled against his chest.

“that look, the look you give whenever you’re feeling a certain way,” he answered, causing you to part from him. he didn’t miss it, how could he? he’s seen that look several times before, but he’s never seen it in this context.

“oh…”

“oh what?” he chuckled, watching as your cheeks flushed.

“it’s nothing, just pure emotion,” you lied. you were feeling a number of things, and arousal was just one of them.

“you liked that, huh?” joe gave you a cocky smirk, the kind that could get you into trouble. his tone didn’t help either.

“oh leave me alone,” you playfully shoved him, walking towards the car. he wrapped his arm around your waist, kissing the side of your head.

“i would be lying if i said i wasn’t also turned on,” he hummed in your ear, breaking the hard exterior you had on.

“is that so?” you mused, casting a look up at him, “remember how it feels to not be sore, love, because after tonight you will be,” you hummed, your eyes darkening with desire. your tone sent him into overdrive, not to mention your confidence. he wasn’t sure if he was going to make it home or not. he wouldn’t be necessarily complaining if he didn’t.

he was in for a long night.

YOWZERS this is long. not sure how i feel about it BUT it’s probably the longest one i’ve written, so c’est la vie. but what inspired this was joe holding back ja’marr at the game on sunday and i went crazy with it. enjoy!

[dokries]

sunshine

pairing: yoon jeonghan x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

word count: 1.1k

warnings: mentions of bruising (reader gets hurt), passing mention of alcohol (no one drinks), a kiss on the forehead, jeonghan gets called a loser lovingly, pet names (babe/baby, sunshine)

author note: this was requested by an anon! thank you so much for requesting once again, and i’m sorry that my work isn’t exactly what you asked for. i still hope you enjoy this though <3 lots of love!!

masterlist

you probably should’ve taken up jeonghan’s offer when he texted you earlier, asking if you wanted to be dropped off before he went to a group dinner with his friends.

of course, you had said no, assuming that it would be the normal amount of traffic when leaving work. to your luck, it turned out the elevators stopped working right before it was time for you to go home and you risked going down the stairwell with everyone else—no one wanted to be stuck in the plain office building any longer, that’s for sure.

however, that also meant that there were some people rushing and elbowing others aside, despite it being…you know, a somewhat steep stairwell that was already crammed with others walking down it. sadly, you were one of the victims of a particularly brutal shover and pushed towards the railing and the cold metal had dug into your body multiple times, which is exactly why your legs ache as you sit down onto the couch slowly.

you take a peek at the back of your forearm and sigh seeing the small red marks leading up to the hem of your shirt sleeve.

you contemplate changing into a shirt with longer sleeves so you don’t worry your boyfriend but decide against it, knowing that he won’t be back for a while; when it’s the whole group of thirteen, they usually stop around one am at the earliest.

you grab an ice pack from the kitchen before stumbling back to the comfortable couch once more with a sigh, turning on the tv to a random channel as you wince at the feeling of the pack touching your tender skin. you keep treating your new bruises gently, with most of your attention on the screen in front of you—it turns out you put on a random reality show and there is drama that’s way too interesting to not watch.

it’s a little after eleven pm when the door unlocks and jeonghan lets himself in, carding a finger through his long hair before he places his motorcycle helmet and keys down, his lip ring glinting in the dimly lit room—he didn’t get to drink anyway since some of the guys had to cancel, and went bowling instead with mingyu and seokmin.

he hums the song that kept playing at the bowling alley as he looks up at you with a mischievous grin. “hey, babe.”

“hey, jeonghan!” you chirp, your voice unusually high as you hurriedly hide the ice pack behind you.

he raises an eyebrow at your cheerfulness this late at night but doesn’t press it, not yet noticing your bruises—that are on full display, even though they are starting to look better—as he goes to hang his leather jacket on the hanger specially designated for it.

your boyfriend turns and walks over to where you’re sitting, placing a small kiss on your forehead as he slumps down on the couch beside you, dangerously close to the biggest bruise you have.

jeonghan smirks at the way the two women on the screen argue with each other. “wow, over a man? he doesn’t even seem to be all that.”

you nod and he smiles, leaning his head against your shoulder as the guy cuts in, taking one woman’s side.

as jeonghan nuzzles his face into your arm, getting bored of what’s on the tv, his lip ring digs into one of the red spots you had gotten earlier and he can feel the way you tense. he frowns at your furrowed brows before looking down at your arm and sighing, his face freezing. “what’s this?”

when you don’t answer, he sighs. “what happened.” he phrases it like a statement instead of a question and you roll your eyes, already knowing he would be like this.

“hannie, nothing happened, i promise,” you say and jeonghan stares at you until you begrudgingly continue. “fine, fine. the elevators stopped working so i went down the stairs when work ended and people kept pushing me off to the side ‘cause they were in a rush. that’s all.”

your boyfriend scoffs, looking out at the window before back at you, his eyes hard. “are you serious? that’s not nothing at all.”

he grabs your hands gently, making sure he doesn’t touch any sore spots and speaks softly. “i’m sorry you had to go through that, baby. next time, i’ll make sure to just pick you up and not ask in case there are jerks like that again. in fact, i’ll be dropping you off and picking you up until the stupid elevators get fixed. i’m not about to take any risks when it comes to you.”

“this really isn’t helping your ‘bad boy’ agenda, you know that, right?” you smile teasingly, squeezing your boyfriend’s hand.

jeonghan looks at you in confusion. “what do you mean by that?”

you smirk. “come on, hannie. you have the whole package: a motorcycle, your leather jackets, the whole package—even your lip ring!” you pause, sighing. “all my coworkers talk about how you seem so brooding and like a lone wolf. it’s like they think you’re the coolest person ever when really, you’re just a loser.”

“hey, i’m not a loser!” jeonghan scoffs before reaching for the ice pack behind you and putting it to the bruises he can see.

“what?” he says when you raise an eyebrow and look down at the pack in his hands. “oh, this? i knew it was behind your back since earlier. you’re not very good at hiding things.”

you roll your eyes before leaning on his shoulder. “see what i mean? loser.”

jeonghan’s eyes soften as he looks at your big grin next to his face and places a kiss on your knuckle. “there’s my sunshine.”

“hey, that’s part of the ‘bad boy’ agenda too!” you chuckle, moving away from him slightly to hit his arm lightly. “besides, i told you not to call me that, it’s so cringey!”

“what, sunshine? i’ll never stop calling you that because it’s true.” your boyfriend sticks his tongue out at you before smirking when you roll your eyes again.

jeonghan then pauses before winking, his head making its way onto your shoulder once more with a content sigh. “either way, i need to make sure i keep up my reputation with your coworkers, am i right?”

[1d1195]

Honey III

Read Honey here | ~7.8k words

From Me: It's slow going here timewise. I just have a lot to say.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, pining, more of a daddy-kink if you don't blink. Some jealous Harry (NIALL 😍) and some mentions of self-care 😉

Summary: “Harry?” She whispered looking back at the little girl as a distraction from thinking about Harry’s abs. Or the way his thighs looked.

“Hmm?”

“I love Cece.”

Harry grinned, looking a little lovestruck himself over the little one...and her nanny. “I know,” he nodded. “She loves you too.”

Harry nearly sprinted into his home just like he had in his dream. He was so excited to kiss Cece as much as humanly possible. But when he got there the house was silent. Not a single light was on in any of the main rooms that should have been on. Even if it was in the middle of the day, the kitchen light was almost always on. Harry frowned wondering why on earth she would take his daughter out when she knew he was going to be home today.

Right about lunchtime, he decided it was a half day for himself since he missed Cece so much.

Which is why he was so sad she wasn't there. He went to the garage to see the car he left for her was gone which meant she purposefully left with his daughter.

He called her immediately. Curious more than anything but became irritated once it didn’t go through. Where the fuck was she that she didn't get service? He frowned and ran a hand through his hair looking at the messages she sent earlier in the morning and realized she hadn’t sent her normal mid-morning update. Harry felt a hot, creeping feeling start from his toes and it flowed all the way up his body.

What the fuck?

He called Niall. He was of course still at the office, and he was hoping maybe she was trying to surprise him. “Is Cece there?” He asked.

“What did she drive herself?” He snorted.

“Niall," he grumbled.

“No of course not. What’s wrong?”

“They’re not here,” his voice flat, irritated.

Niall didn’t say anything. Which told him that he was right to be confused and worried. “Oh,” he murmured.

Harry ran a hand through his hair. “Her phone's not connecting.”

“Shit,” he sighed. “Hold on... let me...” he hung up and Harry paced looking at the ceiling. After a moment he called back. “Nothing,” he frowned. “Listen, you trust her, and she loves Cece. She knows how much you missed her so if she left with her, it was for a good reason. Check your cameras.”

Harry put it on speaker and searched through the last few hours of footage. She left almost two hours ago—right around when he got the first of his daily picture updates. There was nothing other than seeing her car leave so there wasn’t anything to go off as far as where she was headed.

“Hold on,” Niall said and hung up again. Harry paced hands shaking as he tried to cling to the control he desperately wanted. When he called back, Niall took a deep breath. “Okay, she’s fine. So just don’t freak—”

“Niall spit it the fuck out!” He snapped.

“She’s at the hospital and—”

Harry slammed his phone on the counter so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if it was shattered—his phone or his counter, maybe both. He sped twenty miles over the limit the entire way. He parked in a tow zone and headed directly to the desk and presented what little information he knew. He was directed to the pediatric ward.

“Harry!” She shouted in shock as she hurried to him entering the floor and looking around for help. The dream he had of kissing the perfect girl was long gone. His trust in her was cracking like thin ice on a pond. He didn’t want it to, but what was he supposed to think? How could she do this?

“Where is she?” He snapped. Anger and hurt on his face. She blinked in surprise, confused by how mad he looked and why it was directed at her.

“She’s right—” She pointed toward the door and Harry shoved his way in without even letting her finish.

Cece was gazing up at the lights and other than a flush of color on her face, she looked perfectly normal. “Hello, sweet girl,” Harry cooed. His heart felt like it was going to beat right out of his chest. He hunched over the bed made for a little kid, but she was of course so tiny it made his heart ache. He felt tears sting the back of his eyes. “Are you okay?” He asked. Cece smiled, delight dancing in her pretty eyes as she recognized Harry. As if she wasn’t in a hospital and he hadn't seen her in over two days.

“Harry,” she said from behind him. She was holding a cup of coffee in her hands as she watched the pair of them. Harry was fuming. Pretty sure he had literal steam coming out of his ears from how hot he felt. But when he glanced back at her, there was one small part of him that couldn’t help but notice she looked exhausted. As exhausted as Harry felt his anger boiling him from the inside. “I tried all day to get in touch with you.”

The small reprieve he had from seeing her exhaustion was gone. Anger coursed through him with a vengeance, and he turned away from his favorite little baby and looked at her.

His eyes narrowed into a glare. He shook his head disappointment all over his face. “How could you fucking do that?” He snarled.

She blinked, surprised by his tone directed at her, completely flooring her. “I tried—”

“You could have tried harder,” he growled. “Do you have any idea what y’did t’me just now? You know how terrified I am of losing her,” his voice felt off. Strangled by his own emotion. “This is unacceptable. How dare you—”

But she doesn’t even flinch when he yelled; instead, she glared right back at him. Stepped toward him, bitterness in her expression, her tone, and her body language. “I tried, Harry,” she snapped just as irritated as Harry had. “I have called every number I had access to. I tried to contact your mom and sister through social media, but they must have private accounts. I tried everything. I called every person at your company, and they kept transferring me to your incompetent secretary so don’t fucking yell at me like I didn’t do everything I could have done,” she pulled her phone from her pocket and threw it the short distance at him which he caught easily. “Go ahead, go through every app and message, I’ve spent hours on the phone,” she assured him. “There’s no goddamn service here on top of that, so I kept using the nurse’s phone. I tried, Harry. I would never try to scare you like that by leaving you in the dark.”

Harry glanced down at the list of numbers with multiple calls to numbers from his company he recognized the grouping, all the numbers off by one for the different sectors. Each listing had a minimum of three missed calls most were closer to ten. Throughout the listings, Harry's name appeared, five, eight, six, at least fifty he had to imagine at the end of it. Niall had about the same. There was a plethora of messages sent to his phone too. Not sure you're getting these, but nothing is working. This is a shitty way to say it but we're at the hospital. Everything's okay, I just want to get her fever down. Niall’s thread had similar messages along with He's going to hate me :(

Harry's heart ached. He never received the messages, and knowing that one to Niall broke his heart most of all.

How could not one of her calls or messages have reached him?

“I take my job so seriously Harry. Of course I wanted you to know before I brought her here. But you entrusted me with Cece’s care and wellbeing and I wasn’t going to let anything happen to her. I talked to your secretary over and over and she didn’t pass the message on because you were in meetings and refused to interrupt even though I begged. Niall’s phone worked either. I tried everything short of leaving her here alone and coming to get you myself.”

Harry flinched. He would never want her to do that. Leaving Cece alone was one of his worst fears.

How could his secretary not pass along messages about his daughter? Harry was so angry and now, he had someone to actually be angry at. “Fuck,” he snapped and headed out of the room.

“Where are you—”

Harry marched out of the room up to the desk station in the middle of the floor. He reached over and grabbed one of the phones without asking. The nurse closest to him opened her mouth to answer but after looking at Harry briefly, his intimidating stature, and anger rolling off him in hot waves, she thought better than to deny him the phone.

“Niall,” he ground out when the phone stopped ringing. His teeth hurt.

“I think I figured it out... The work phones have been wonky all day for everyone. I contacted the phone company--” Niall answered without waiting for Harry.

“Are y'still at the office?” His voice was low, angry as hell.

“Yeah... of course. How is she?"

"Fine."

"Are you sure? Fuck, Harry... that was so bad. I guess since we have personal phones through the work offer—”

He didn't have time for this. “Fire my secretary, Niall.”

“What?” Niall shook his head forgetting his train of thought about the phones.

“Tell her t'pack her shit and go,” he snapped and slapped the phone down into the receiver making the nurse bounce in her seat.

He turned to find her standing in the doorway between him and his daughter. “I’m sorry,” his voice was raw, and he ran a hand over his tired face. “I shouldn’t have...” he closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose trying to quell the emotion in his throat and eyes. “I can’t lose her,” he murmured.

Then, as if he hadn’t just implied that he didn’t trust her, she sighed. “Of course not,” she whispered. “I swear, I was doing—”

“I know,” he shook his head. “I know, I’m sorry. M’sorry I implied otherwise. I shouldn’t have—”

“Forget it,” she waved her hand flippantly. She crossed the few feet of space between her and Harry and she grabbed his hand. It felt so warm, so safe. She squeezed his hand and tugged him back to the room. “Come see her, she missed you,” she tilted her head toward the room. It was forgotten. The way he yelled at her. The way he insinuated she was anything but trustworthy.

Harry felt shaky and broken but glad she was there to keep him from freaking out. Glad she was willing to overlook his anger even if he knew he didn't deserve it. How quickly that feeling of being broken, cheated on, and lied to returned and made him feel worse than any of the times he had experienced before. She had no idea how much she had changed him and she hadn't done anything other than care for his baby.

Once in the room, he shook his head and focused his attention to his precious angel sucking on her pacifier happily and quietly in the hospital bed. “I will say though," she dropped Harry's hand as she crouched on one side of the bed and brushed her fingers over her cheek. "She looks pretty freaking cute in this big bed,” she whispered a smile in her voice.

Harry couldn’t argue. Cece looked cute as hell everywhere though. He wanted to smother her little face with kisses until she giggled. A smile played at the corners of his lips. “She’s okay?” He asked quietly. He should have asked that first rather than exploding at her. Even if he was mad, it should have been his first concern.

“Just a fever,” she promised. “Comes with the earache and cold she’s got," she frowned. "Poor baby woke up in the middle of the night. Inconsolable," she explained. "The medicine wasn't helping after a while and I wanted to be safer than sorry. Little miss scared me half to death,” she sighed her worried expression breaking Harry's heart. No wonder she was exhausted. At least Harry had a full night's sleep. He was getting a new phone company tomorrow. “But she’s on the mend now. Some stronger meds and whatnot. I hope that’s okay.”

“You hope that y’deciding t’give her medicine that will make her feel better is okay with me, after I screamed at you?”

She smiled wryly. Like she was keeping a secret. She rested a hand on Cece's leg over the blanket while Harry brushed his thumb along her face. It felt right holding his sweet baby with her looking at Cece like she was the most amazing thing to ever grace the earth (and she was, but Harry didn't know someone not related to her could feel that way). “To be fair," she sighed and squeezed her leg. "If my daughter were in a hospital and I didn’t know, I would have burned the whole city down until I found her.”

Harry smirked. “Thank you,” he hoped the sincerity in his voice made up for how terribly he treated her. “I’m sorry about the phone issue. It won’t happen again,” he assured her.

"Don't mention it, Harry," she smiled.

*

Harry woke with a start in the middle of the night. He sat up and went to the kitchen to get a drink of water, feeling emotionally drained. The hospital visit ended only a couple hours after he arrived. Because his car had been promptly towed after his arrival, he drove Cece and Miss Honey in her car on the way back home. She sat with Cece in the backseat without asking but Harry was extremely grateful.

Once he finished his glass of water, he peeked inside of the fridge. It was stuffed with several containers of yummy food she had made the last couple days. Half of them were labeled for Niall with hearts all over the sticky notes that made him roll his eyes.

The other half were labeled Dada with a single heart, but Harry thought the one heart was more important than all the ones Niall had.

He smirked and glanced around at all the decorations she had put up for Halloween, making his house feel like a home. It hadn’t felt like that in all the time he lived there. As he returned to his bedroom, he thought he would make a pitstop in Cece’s room.

Harry was an idiot to adamantly deny his feelings for Miss Honey. He was serious when he told Niall how perfect she was. At the time, he had convinced himself that it was because she was perfect for Cece. But if he wasn't in love with her before, he was now.

She laid across the area rug tucked part way under Cece’s crib. A pillow held below her head like she was hugging it, and her adorable seasonal blanket draped across her. But it didn’t reach her toes. Her eyebrows were pinched together like she was having a bad dream. Harry didn’t want her lying on the floor, but he didn't want to wake her either. She had a longer day than he did. His heart clenched knowing how much she adored Cece. How she would do anything for his little baby.

Harry grabbed one of the many fluffy blankets in Cece’s collection beneath the window. He spread it over her to cover her legs, making sure her feet were got wrapped up too. The crinkle of her eyebrows disappeared as he did which only tightened the bubble around his heart.

Grabbing another blanket from her basket, he settled into the chair. No way he could go back to his room knowing his favorite women were in one room. After watching both of them for a time, he fell asleep.

*

When she woke up, she stretched, her back creaking from the hard surface she slept on. But other than sleeping in the crib with Cece, this was as close as she could have gotten and it was well worth it to ease the anxiety she felt from the previous day. Getting to her knees, she sighed again, leaning low to stretch her lower back, her forehead touching the floor as she bowed backward. It was still early. Too early for even Cece to be awake.

The nightlight plugged into the wall was soft and painted the room in a warm, gentle, yellow glow. She peered at Cece through the slats of her crib and smiled—she was sleeping soundly, no pain, no fever. Just a little stuffy. “You scared me, pretty girl,” she whispered quietly.

“Me too,” Harry’s deep voice spooked her because she hadn’t registered that he was snuggled cutely into the chair that she assumed was used for late night feedings back in the first couple months of Cece’s life--split between Harry, his mum, and his sister. She pressed a hand to her rapidly beating heart. Her cheeks felt warm. If she had been turned away from Cece’s crib, she would have noticed his presence, but her yoga pose was done without thought and now she felt embarrassed that her boss saw her stretching her lower back out.

His voice was raspier in the morning. His eyes seemed tired but still as beautiful as he always was. She could see he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and she wondered if he had forgone the sweats again as he had when he saved her from the front step. Biting the inside of her cheek she swallowed. “I just... didn’t want to leave her alone,” she admitted glancing briefly back at Cece, her little chest rising and falling easily. Then she turned back to Harry.

His smile was was so gentle, so sweet, it made her stomach twist. “Thank you," he looked beyond her for a minute at his daughter and then returned his gaze to hers. "I was going t’wake you. But y’had a long day.”

Her cheeks warmed again. She tried to remind herself that Harry was her boss, and it wasn’t okay to fuck him with her eyes regardless of how his half open eyelids screamed sex like he just had an orgasm. What was it with getting so turned on by him in the middle of the night?

When he had pulled her from her book in nothing but sweatpants a few nights prior, she thought it was almost worse than the boxers. She had to keep her eyes above his waist but there were even more sinful things to think about looking at his pecs and broad shoulders. It worked wonders for when she got back to her room and slipped her hand into leggings and pressed circles over her depressingly underused clit. It was not good to think about him like that. Not when just a hallway separated the pair of them.

Not when his infant daughter was sleeping in the very same hallway.

“Harry?” She whispered looking back at the little girl as a distraction from thinking about Harry’s abs. Or the way his thighs looked. She needed a safe thought. Something she could tell him that wouldn't get her fired.

“Hmm?”

“I love Cece.”

Harry grinned, looking a little lovestruck himself over the little one... and her nanny. “I know,” he nodded. “She loves you too.”

*

When Harry came home the following day with a mountain of papers and a laptop, she hurried to the door and grabbed as much as she could with her free hands while Cece stayed attached to her hip in the wrap. “Thank you,” he smiled. “Hi sweet girl,” he cooed and bent slightly to the height of Cece at her waist. He kissed her forehead.

“What is all this?” She asked, carrying what she had grabbed toward the kitchen.

“I fired my secretary,” he said as explanation.

“Jesus,” she blinked and deposited the papers on the kitchen island. She had a feeling that was what his call to Niall was at the hospital yesterday. So, she knew why. She felt guilty for calling her incompetent and for causing this mess.

“She made a mess of everything. I spent most of the day trying to organize it, but frankly I haven’t a clue as to what some of it is,” he ran a hand along the back of his head. Harry pulled the suitcoat he wore off where his sleeves had been rolled up to his elbows. He wasn’t wearing a tie, and the top two buttons were undone. He was way too hot for her own good. For her own good. “I’m exhausted,” he admitted.

She frowned. She couldn’t imagine. He didn’t sleep much before his trip. Nor during—not if the late-night texts asking about Cece were any indication as he worried about her fussing prior to his departure. Paired with a delayed flight, Cece’s hospital visit, and what was probably a much less comfortable sleep in a chair before getting up to do it all over again? She wanted Harry to go to bed right that second. But he had to be hungry. She knew he hadn’t eaten breakfast, and something told her he probably skipped his two o’clock meal as well.

“Well, I made dinner,” she offered and hurried to the stove and Cece gurgled a cute little noise on her hip. “I know,” she smirked knowingly as if it really made any sense. “Dada’s hungry too,” she kissed the top of her head as she scooped the stew she had made into a bowl. She put a piece of the special bread she bought for the occasion in the toaster oven and then worked on Cece’s bottle. When she turned around holding the bowl of stew, the bread balancing on the rim, and Cece’s bottle in her other hand, Harry was staring at her. “What?” She blushed and tried to catch a glance of her backside in case she sat in something in between cooking steps. “Do I have something on my—”

“No,” he shook his head and grabbed the bowl from her hand. “Thank you,” his voice was low, deep.

She nodded and held the bottle out as well. “Do you want to hold her now?" She wanted Harry to eat, but she also knew he wanted to hold his baby for as long as possible before bed.

He seemed to be in a trance as he took a few bites of his stew and watched her and Cece. “Yeah,” he murmured eventually and held his arms out for his baby. “Hi baby,” he cooed and peppered her cheek with kisses. “Are you feeling better?” He asked bouncing her gently.

Harry, without holding a baby, with sleeves rolled up like that was one of the hottest things she had ever seen. Holding a baby? She shook her head trying to get the circuits running because she was pretty sure she forgot why Harry was asking if Cece was feeling better.

“Right, we need to give her medicine actually,” she said glancing at her watch as if she just remembered. When she looked back at Harry, she realized he probably hadn’t once given his own daughter medicine, and he had no clue what to do. Without thinking any more of it, she grabbed the medication, and the liquid syringe dropper needed. “Alright, girly, I know it’s not your favorite,” she smiled. “But it’ll make you feel better, here we go,” she aspirated the medicine into the syringe and brought it to her mouth. “She’s going to fuss,” she warned Harry. Harry nodded and held her like she did when she got her shots at the doctor’s office. She gently put the dropper into her mouth and depressed a few drops. “Hold her chin so her mouth stays closed,” her tone was gentle, instructive without demanding. She watched as the frustration appeared on her little face and she grunted and squirmed in Harry’s arms. Gently she ran her fingers down her little neck encouraging her to swallow. Harry watched her every movement.

“How do y’know what t’do?” He asked.

She smiled. “Classes, Google, experience.”

“Experience?”

“My youngest brother is fifteen years younger than me,” she explained. “Mom had to go back to work, so I babysat a lot. But it didn’t feel like it. Honestly, he felt a lot like my baby. My mom was great, don’t get me wrong, but I would kill for that kid even though he barely talks to me now because he’s a cool, broody teenager.”

Harry smirked. “Do you have other siblings?”

“Yeah. I have an older brother. Three years older. But I also feel like his mom.”

He chuckled. “I think sisters are superheroes.”

“Why thank you,” she put a hand on her heart and smiled like she was winning an award. Harry chuckled again and helped with the remainder of Cece’s medicine. “That was so yucky, huh?” she crouched in front of Cece’s eyeline. “So yucky,” she wrinkled her nose and giggled at her. Cece gurgled back and smiled at her. “Let’s eat the good stuff,” she smiled and plucked the cap off the bottle for Harry before grabbing a bowl of her own. “Do you want more?” She asked.

“M'still working on this one,” he jutted his chin toward the bowl. She looked at the papers on the counter beside them.

“Is this organized by person or by file type?” He stared at her for several long seconds as if that was the most ridiculous question she could ever ask. “Alright,” she smirked. “When you ask for a file, do you want the whole bit from the person/company/etc. or do you want all the same files bunched together?”

“I would probably want everything from the same company,” he yawned. “I think she had it the opposite way. Or maybe she messed it up on purpose before she left. This is only an eighth of it. I couldn’t be in that room anymore.”

“You didn’t hire another secretary?” She asked blowing on the bite of her food that steamed visually in front of her. It seemed like something Harry would have in surplus.

“They were all women,” he grumbled.

“Mr. Styles,” she tutted. “What happened to we’re superheroes?” She frowned.

He rolled his eyes. “You are a superhero,” he said simply making her stomach flip. The pause seemed infinite as he let that title settle over her. “Mum, Gemma, Cece, even Cece’s mum...” he trailed off looking at her in a way that made her feel special. “I can’t have anyone who puts m’daughter’s life at the bottom of a priority list work for me,” he explained.

“Harry,” she clucked. “She wasn’t a good secretary. You can’t swear off—”

“No. This is my decision, love. Also, I made everyone program your phone number into their phones today. And whoever is m’next secretary has a laminated index card next t’the phone that says even if m’in the middle of a meeting with the Secretary-General of The UN, they’re t’forward your call t’me,” he said it so casually and with his chin on the bottom of Cece’s bottle holding it upright, he continued eating his own food hungrily. “This is delicious,” he remarked.

Her heart fluttered. “You... you gave my phone number to everyone?”

“I never want there t’be another emergency, but if there is,” he shrugged. “I want you t’be able t’get in touch with me,” he sighed, looking at the papers on the counter and shook his head. “M’gonna put her t’bed,” he scooped her up. “Can y’leave that on? S’really good. M’gonna have more while I work on this," he nodded to the pile of papers there. "Niall might not even get any tomorrow, I might eat it all," that didn't surprise her. She needed to figure out how to get him to eat at lunch time.

She frowned and nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

“Say night-night, Cece,” he cooed and kissed the top of her head. “Say I love you, Miss Honey, thanks for taking care of me and feeding me yucky medicine,” her smile overtook the frown, and she grabbed Cece’s little hands as she kissed her forehead while Harry faced her forward. It felt unbearably sweet. Sweeter than any bedtime routine she had witnessed while babysitting her brother, or anyone else, or the kids she nannied before Cece.

“Good night, sweet girl,” she pinched at her little belly making her giggle before Harry took her to bed.

*

She heard Harry’s shower pipes whine from down the hall after he finished putting Cece to bed. While he was out of earshot, she finished putting away the dishes that were clean from the dishwasher. Then she looked at the stack of papers on the counter and started to sift through them. Fortunately, the names were at the top of the files, so it was easy to differentiate, and she began to make piles. She turned her phone on low and played gentle music so as not to disturb her concentration nor the sleeping baby (even if she wasn’t going to hear it from upstairs anyway).

Every paper was different so she could see how it would be overwhelming. Especially if there was a whole room of it. Poor sleepy Harry. She was so entranced and humming to her music that she didn’t notice Harry had reappeared. “What are y’doing?” He asked.

She jumped in surprise, the handful of papers she was holding fluttered to the floor. “Sorry!” She grabbed them swiftly and then stood back up smacking her head on the bottom of the counter. “Shit!” She hissed, rubbing the back of it.

Suddenly there were hands on her waist. Gently pushing her to the stool he previously sat in for dinner. Harry grabbed the papers from her hands and tossed them haphazardly into one of her organized piles. “Are you alright?” Harry asked concern in his voice. He went to the freezer immediately as she was seated then came back with a bag of frozen green beans to place at the back of her head as he looked intently into her eyes.

“Yeah,” she swallowed. “Just...clumsy.”

Harry’s free hand was on her thigh, whether he meant it to be there intentionally or not, she wasn’t sure, but she was glad it was. It was warm and big. It felt comforting even if she only bumped her head and nothing more. Also, it would be good fodder for the fire between her thighs when she went back to her room later and thought about the other things that Harry had that were warm and big. “What are y’doing?” He repeated, looking at the counter right over her shoulder.

“I thought I would organize—” His expression was weird again. Like when he was watching her scoop his stew into a bowl. “What?” She asked.

“Nothing,” he shook his head quickly. “Just... m’very grateful for you, love. Niall says I don’t say it enough and I think he’s right. Cece and I would be lost without you.”

Her cheeks felt warmer from the compliment, but she snorted out a breath of laughter. “Niall is just jealous that you get to eat the food I make fresh,” she teased.

Harry rolled his eyes. “He’ll be fine,” he assured her. “Are you okay?” He asked putting the green beans on the counter and running his fingers along the back of her skull very softly. It felt so intimate, and the motion went right between her legs. She nodded trying to keep her breathing even as she answered.

“I’m okay,” she hoped the waver in her voice didn't give her away.

He smiled and replaced the veggie bag on the back of her head. “Thank you, love,” Harry’s gaze was so filled with gratitude and warmth it felt like she was going to catch on fire.

*

Everything okay? Harry’s message read. She hadn’t sent any updates in hours. She didn’t need to. It was her day off and she didn’t even need to answer Harry if she didn’t want to, but he was so nervous that she wouldn’t. He missed her, plain and simple.

Fortunately, she answered before he got too worried. Completely. Just finished up my last appointment.

Just checking, you don’t need to rush. I can tell Cece just misses you :)

She smiled feeling guilty she was spending the day away from her favorite four-month-old. But she liked making appointments like this. It was easy to get them all done in one go, doctor, dentist, gyno, nails, and hair. Her last appointment was her haircut; she got several inches cut off making her feel lighter and bouncier. The blowout was fresh, making her feel brighter for whatever reason, too. She probably only needed a half day, but she thought some retail therapy would be her reward for a long stressful weekend. When she got home, she hoped to see Cece before her nap time, help with the medicine if Harry wanted (he did a great job on his own this morning but asked if she could watch to be sure), and then she planned on having her own, very needed, naptime.

She was headed to her favorite clothing store when she passed Harry’s office building. Without registering her own thought process, she was parked on the main road, and in his building before she realized.

The bustle of Harry’s main office floor never ceased to amaze her. The security guard at the floor entrance tipped his hat at her arrival. “Where’s Miss Cecelia today?”

“Daddy-daughter day,” she smiled and headed for the door labeled with Harry's name on it. Her nap was forgotten and she only thought about how he had brought those papers home and because she had asked to take the day off, he would be stuck with these again tomorrow.

She waved to a couple people who recognized her, two of whom complimented her hair. When she got to his office it was stacked with papers on every available surface. Even she got overwhelmed by the look of it.

She felt even more terrible that she asked Harry to take the day off when this was left for him.

She entered his office without catching anyone else's attention, started the quiet music from the night before, and got to work.

*

Cece was halfway through her afternoon nap when Harry sent a picture to the pretty woman who normally sent pictures to him at this time. He hadn’t heard from her in a while and was getting worried. It was odd that he didn’t worry about her when he was at work, but perhaps it was the comfort of her at his home being the perfect person to help raise his daughter.

I thought you didn’t hire a new secretary?

He read Niall’s message twice trying to figure out what joke he was playing at. He called him quickly. “I didn’t?”

“Well, there’s a woman in your office.”

Harry thought this week was destined to kill him mentally. He blew out a long breath and scrubbed a hand over his face in exasperation. “Well, call security!” He snapped.

“Wait a second...” he trailed off.

“Wait a second!? Niall! There’s a stranger in my office!”

He knocked on the door to what he assumed was his office. Knocked. Like he was interrupting someone doing important business and not stealing trade secrets.

“I didn’t recognize you with your hair like that, darling. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Harry could hear him grinning and almost immediately Harry realized who was in his office. Then, Harry heard the most beautiful laugh through the phone line and his heart squeezed with affection. The feeling of affection was directly replaced with jealousy that Niall was near her when all he wanted was to see her. “She got a haircut,” Niall narrated into the phone. “She looks beautiful,” he said to both of them.

“I’m going to kill you,” he growled.

“What are you doing?” Niall asked, ignoring Harry’s threat. He put the phone on speaker while he scooped up his sleeping daughter and placed her in her car seat. He already knew what she was doing and if he wasn’t already head over heels for her, he would probably kill her shortly after killing Niall when he got back to the office.

“Harry... papers... I’d help,” her voice was just far enough away from the speaker that he couldn’t catch every word. He grabbed the bag that was always ready to go for his little love and slipped it over his shoulder as he marched to the garage carrying Cece in tow and listening to his best friend flirt with the insanely perfect woman he lived with.

“That’s so nice of you,” Niall said sincerely. Harry let the call switch to his car, and he hurried to get to the office listening in on the conversation.

“Hardly,” she said flippantly. Her voice was closer now. “Harry brought some home yesterday and I felt bad that there was so much. He’s had a really long week.”

Harry glanced at the monitor on his dashboard catching sight of his pretty girl still sound asleep and notched up his speed.

“How long have you been here?”

She paused, maybe looking for a clock. “An hour, two hours?” There was a shrug in her voice again.

Harry stepped on the gas a little harder again.

“No one saw you?”

“The security guard did.”

Harry was going to have a serious talk with him too.

“Harry, do you have anything you want to say to her?” Niall asked.

“No,” he grumbled.

“Hi Harry,” her voice was soft, velvety. Harry couldn't fall in love. He didn't love anyone but his baby, his company, and his family. But where did that put her? He hired her to take care of his pride and joy, but this was beyond anything he could have anticipated. She was doing it out of the kindness of her heart.

“Hi, love,” he tried to lighten his voice. He wasn’t mad at her. Well, he kind of was. He had hoped she was using her day to enjoy herself not worry continually about Harry.

“I think I messed up,” she stage-whispered to Niall.

“He’s fine,” he whispered back in the same way.

Harry rolled his eyes listening to their inane conversation. After what seemed like an eternity, he found his usual parking spot before getting Cece from the backseat as well as her bag. He rushed into the building and made his way to his office without so much as looking at his employees.

She managed to organize as much paperwork in two hours as Harry did in a day. “Oh hello, my sweet girl,” she smiled at the waking baby and pulled the seat from Harry’s grip. She tugged the baby from the seat and held her against her chest and kissed the top of her head repeatedly. “I missed you,” she hummed.

“Wish you greeted me that way, darling,” Niall smiled mischievously only to get a rise out of Harry which worked incredibly well based on the way he glared at Niall.

She smirked and shook her head. “Reserved for Miss Cece only,” she squeezed her closer and inhaled her scent. “Did you have fun with Daddy?” She cooed.

Daddy Niall mouthed at Harry, a knowing smirk on his face. Harry shoved Niall, dropping the bag beside her car seat and started looking through the stack of papers she was working on while she and Niall fawned over Cece.

“Don’t y’have work t’do, Niall?”

“Figured I deserved a Cece break,” he said. “But while you’re here, I have the applicants for your secretary.” Harry ignored him and continued the work she started. Although it was obvious she was a well-oiled machine and Harry was incapable, in comparison. “Guess we’ll deal with it tomorrow?” Harry waved without looking up.

“Good luck,” he murmured to her. “Bye-bye Cece,” his voice changed octaves as he spoke to his daughter. “I love you more than Daddy.”

Niall was really pushing it lately. As soon as he was gone, she returned to the papers humming as Cece reached for them. “Oh, thank you, cutie pie,” she smiled grabbing them from her reach. “You didn’t need to come in,” she said. “I was going to go shopping but I was passing by and thought I—”

“I appreciate it,” his tone was clipped. She frowned feeling like once more she had done something wrong. As if he was sensing her nervousness, he sighed. “It’s your day off,” he reminded her. “I would never have expected you t’do this,” he sighed.

“Well, you’ve had a long week and—”

“You keep saying that, love. But so did you. Maybe even longer than me," he thought of her exhaustion clear as day on her face back at the hospital. He was certain she had a longer week.

She bit the inside of her cheek. Her face flushed a bit making Harry wonder what he did to embarrass her. “But you had a work trip and your flight issue, plus the hospital, and phone problems--"

“So what? You dealt with all that and more," she didn't answer. "What?" He tilted his head. “What is it?”

She sighed and looked away from him, nosing at the top of Cece’s hair. “You called me a superhero,” she said.

“Of course—”

“But I’m not, Harry. I’m not.”

Harry grabbed the papers from her hands and then settled them on the desk. Cece was making noises and blowing bubbles with her spit, so she walked over to her bag and grabbed bib while barely looking. Harry took it from her hand and placed it around her little neck to catch her drooling. But Harry just continued to look at the woman holding his daughter with awe. “You very much are,” he assured her.

“Harry, I...” she took a deep breath and dragged her hand down her face. “You pay me an insane amount of money for me to be a glorified housewife. I take your baby to the library and the park and sometimes a doctor's appointment. I give her a bath and make sure she naps," she explained.

"Arguably some of the most important jobs in the world."

She sighed. "Do you know how many people tell me my job isn't real? That I get paid to do nothing but play with a baby?"

Harry held his tongue before he said something crazy like "tell me who and I'll kill them."

"You do so much more than that," he reminded her.

"I'm glad you see it that way. But not everyone else does."

"What about all this?" He gestured to the papers. "S'not part of your job. Cooking and cleaning for me? S'not your job. I should jus' hire someone else t'do it so you won't--"

"Don't do that, please. I don't mind, I like--"

"Exactly," Harry stared at her hoping she saw how serious he was, how serious he was taking this. "You take care of families," he said. "But the way y'love them is beyond what anyone would expect."

How could she feel so inadequate? She did so much. But even if he placated her and that was the “only” thing she did, so what? She was damn good at it. She kept his baby safe and healthy without batting an eyelash. He knew she was working on Cece rolling over and grabbing her feet. He knew she read to her and sang to her. She counted out cooking steps and stairs and everything she did with Cece. She was ensuring Cece hit milestones and never once complained about anything. Not the lack of sleep, not the lack of time off.

She was brilliant. Harry was pretty sure she knew more about Cece than he did. He couldn’t imagine the stress she was under making sure Cece was always okay. For fuck’s sake, she slept on the floor to keep a close eye on her. Even Harry didn’t think to do that.

Harry stared at her. He cleared his throat. “Should anyone have a question of your qualifications, feel free t’give them m’number because I would be happy t’give them m’own recommendation,” he pulled Cece from her grip and placed her back in the car seat. “Let’s go.”

“Go where? What recommendation?” Confusion painted her face.

“The recommendation where I suggest they pull their head out of their ass. They’re fucking stupid for believing y’don’t work three or four times as hard as they do. Y’work way harder than I do and way harder than Niall. Probably even put together. You are on all the time. Middle of the night? You’re there. Breakfast? You have it covered. Y’have the most important job at this company--you realize that, right? I don’t trust anyone with m’daughter more than you,” he said. “Do y’know how long it would have taken me t’give her the medicine?” He asked rhetorically. “I would’ve called m'mum.” She felt uncomfortable—Harry was acting like she was making space rockets. “If y’think m’paying y’too much you’re dead wrong. M’not paying y’enough. You are doing more for me than I could have ever thought possible,” he picked up the car seat. “Now, if that’s all, I believe your first quarter review is done,” he grabbed Cece’s bag. “Let’s go. I’ll have the driver get your car back home.”

“Go...? Go where?” She asked.

“Shopping, y’said y’were on your way when y’stopped,” he headed out of his office and left her paused, contemplating everything Harry said and feeling warm all over. Her last family adored her, it was obvious. They didn’t expect her to cook and clean, but it just happened. So, she continued that in Harry’s house. It hadn’t occurred to her that Harry didn’t want her to do it.

“Hey, love?” He asked turning back into the room while she gathered her stuff.

“Yes?”

"Thank you," his expression softened around his lips and eyes. "It was really nice of you t'do this for me," he looked at the papers that seemed a little less daunting to deal with tomorrow.

"Oh... you're welcome. I kinda like organizing stuff," she looked a little shy admitting that and followed after him quietly. Settling her mind with thoughts of how important she was to Harry.

Her old family cared for her. But there was no declaration like that. She felt so special to be around Cece and Harry.

They got on the elevator to head to the parking garage. The little baby seat sat between their feet as Harry pressed the button that closed the door. "And..." he turned to her and smiled a little brighter. It touched his eyes and made her think Harry might be the most beautiful man she had ever seen. Carefree, beautiful, and absolutely kind. "Your hair looks really pretty like that, too."

--

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[rainylana]

“Takin’ care of my best girl.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: reader has a panic attack during the night.

warnings: panic attack, anxiety, tears and descriptions of anxiety symptoms, hurt/comfort, fear of allergic reaction/throat swelling.

You’re sitting on the porch. The air is cool and breezy against your face, the moon shines a calming light on the grass in from of you, making it shimmer. There’s cats roaming in trash cans. Maybe they’re raccoons, actually. It was a beautiful night, but you weren’t really able to enjoy it.

Your heart was pounding, head aching and body trembling with fear, a fear you didn’t know what it exactly was. Your stomach was so twisted with knots and nerves you thought you’d surely pass out. It hurt to breath. You couldn’t breath. Your hands were cradling your head, holding your body tight and hoping it would pass.

It always passed. It always went away and you were always okay. They didn’t normally get this bad. You were getting so much better at handling them. For some reason tonight wasn’t the case. You debated waking Eddie up, but you hated keeping him up with you when you got this way. It wasn’t fair to him.

You had tried all the things to help you. You squeezed an ice cub in your palm, took a cold shower, tried watching to tv to distract yourself. You couldn’t stop swallowing, testing to see if your throat was closing up, which was now raw and irritated from your constant swallowing. You tried taking deep breaths, hands shaking as you placed a hand over your chest, grasping at your shirt.

Once you thought you were getting better, it would start up again. The sudden racing of your heart that made you breathless. After a few minutes, you began to pace, gripping at your chest and willing it to go away. What if there was something wrong with you? Were your lungs actually closing? Were you having an allergic reaction?

That’s what got you every time. You always thought you were dying, and you never were.

You needed to go to the hospital. You couldn’t stand it anymore. You’d been to the er many times for panic attacks, but what if it was serious this time? With trembling legs you walked back inside to your bedroom, rounding the bed and shaking Eddie urgently.

“Eddie?” Your still holding your chest. “Eddie?”

His eyes flutter open, squinting in the dark. “Hmm?”

“I’m scared.” You say, bringing up a nail to bite. “I think something might be wrong.”

Those key words had him sitting up, rubbing his eyes. He leans over and switches on the light, looking up to take you in. He knows what’s wrong immediately, lifting the blanket so he can get out of bed. “What’s going on?” His voice is tired and gruff. “You anxious about something?”

You shake your head yes, grasping at your throat. “I- I uh, I think my throat might be swelling up. Maybe I ate something.”

He nods slowly, bringing his hands up to ghost at your arms. “What brought this on? Did it just start?”

“No, I’ve been up awhile.” You say, trying to swallow again. You do, but harshly, pushing out a choked breath that has you pacing around the room. “Eddie, I’m scared.”

“You’re alright, baby.” He’s following you, grabbing your hand. “Come on, let’s go out to the living room.” He guides you out there, sitting you on the kitchen chair by the stove. “I’ll make you some tea.”

Your eyes start to well up and you shake your head. “No, I- I think we should go to the hospital, Eddie.” Your voice came out desperate.

He’d done this with you so many times, yet the urgency and fear in your voice always made him nervous, even though he knew you were completely fine. He puts the tea in the microwave, setting it for two minutes before he’s crouching in front of you. “Hey,” He’s grasping your face. “You’re alright. You know that. We just have to work through it okay? Like we always do.”

You let out a sob that makes his heart ache, a tear dropping town to his wrist. “But I’m scared.”

“I know you are.” He coos, petting your hair. “If you really want to go I’ll take you, but you’re strong enough to fight this, baby. I’m right here with you, right? We can get through this.” He leans up and kisses your forehead, then your cheek, going back to the microwave to let you think.

Your knee is bouncing quickly, your knuckles tapping at the table like you’re trying to communicate through morse code. Your breathing gets heavier and heavier, your head getting harder to keep up. You gasp, groaning loudly as you lean over.

He’s bringing the cup of tea over to you quickly, sitting it on the table to hold your back. “Just breath, sweetheart.” He’s rubbing your back, crouching beside you. “You’re alright.”

You start to sob, head between your knees as you fight to be sick. You hiccup, shoulders shaking with your cries. You reach to grip his arm. “My stomach hurts so bad.”

It wasn’t rare for you to throw up when you got worked up. He quickly brought the kitchen trashcan over to you, sitting it in front of you so you could have it at the ready.

“Keep breathing.” He instructs you, bringing the tea over to you. “Here, try and drink some of this.” He wasn’t ever sure if the tea helped, but it made him feel useful when you got to feeling poorly.

When your tea is gone, after practically gulping down the hot liquid, he’s rubbing your shaking shoulders, trying to get the knots out of muscles. He switches on the tv to gilligans island, the episode where the professor is trying to make a phone out of a coconut and a banana peel.

You keep crying through half of the episode, coiling over here and there. When you did, he rubbed the back of your neck and kissed your shoulder, telling you to breath and that you were going to get through it.

When you’re three episodes in, your tears have stopped and you’re left with nothing but embarrassment and humiliation, your face beat red as you begin to mutter an apology. “I’m sorry.” Your voice is shaky and hoarse. He’s sitting beside you now, his arm tossed around your shoulders.

“Don’t be.” He smiles, tapping your nose. “Just doing my job.”

“Your job?” You sniffle.

“Takin’ care of my best girl.” He kissed you, a quick peck on the lips as he leans over and turns off the living room light, snuggling back into the couch and pulling you into his chest.

[cherriesformatt]

boston || matt sturniolo

matt x fem!reader

summary: matt takes reader home to meet his parents and he takes her ice skating for the first time where he used to play hockey

warnings: pure fluff

word count: 1,6k

a/n: Hi!! I combined two requests I hope you're okay with that! I tried my best! Ily <3 I will read proof after work!

based on:

"Hey...do you want some?" Matt asked me when he opened some kind of cookies.

We were on the plane with his brothers right behind us. It was my first time flying to Boston with them and I am going to meet his family. I was shitting my pants and felt like throwing up because we were hour from landing.

"No, thanks" I smiled at him and went back to my book.

We were flying first class and it was nice and quiet here. I am glad because I was able to read and it kept my mind from stressing out.

"You don't have to be scared, they going to love you I told you that already" Matt said and put his hand on my thigh and stroked it.

"You can't possibly know that" I closed my book and looked at him with my worried eyes.

Matt smiled at me and tucked some of my hair behind my ear. He kissed my nose which made me giggle.

"Yes, I do. Justin is chill and our parents even more. Please Marylou probably already has our picture on the wall and Jimmy will want to take you fishing and hope you will say yes because we always say no" He laughed.

I laughed too.

"Please say no because if you say yes we all will need to go" Nick's head popped out of nowhere in the middle of our seats.

It calmed me down just a little bit. But as we landed it all came back. My palms were sweaty and I was fixing my hair and hoodie every three seconds as we waited for our bags in the baggage claim. Chris made me and Matt to take a picture with "Welcome to Boston" sign. And I probably looked like I saw a ghost.

"Justin just landed too and Mom is going to be here in 20 minutes" Nick said looking at his phone.

We collected our luggage and waited on the chairs for their brother.

"It was not hard to find you...Nick you look ridiculous it is so warm outside snd you wearing fucking Uggs" I heard and my eyes followed the voice.

Justin walked up to us. He was a little shorter than his little brothers and had very similar style to Chris. I wouldn't say he looked similar to them but they only shared a mom and also I knew how Justin looked like from the pictures and videos.

They said hi to their brother and he brought so much energy and made everyone laugh. I could see how boys missed their brother a lot.

"And you must be y/n, it is nice to finally meet you. This one does not shut up about you" He embrace me with a warm hug and I smiled hugging him back.

"That would be me. Its nice to meet you too Justin" I said.

"Smart choice, this one can drive and doesn't talk too much" He joked and I laughed.

"Okay let's go...mom is here" Nick said and we went outside to look for their van.

When we found the car I tried to keep my cool. But it was just so normal to be stressed about it. I never did that before. Meet my partners parents. I never felt about anyone as I felt about Matt. He was so important to me that I just needed for his family to accept me because I knew how much his family was important to him.

We all were friends for almost two years now. Me and Matt started dating like 7 months ago but it was going on for longer than that. We were both just too scared to confess our feelings but one day our friends just couldn't stand us and they set us up with a date. And we talked and talked about feelings for hours and there we are now. I am meeting his parents.

"Hi kids! I missed you so much!" Their mom gave them a hug and a kiss and I stand next to them smiling at how adorable it was.

"Hi honey, you're even more pretty in real life... welcome! I hope the flight wasn't bad for you. Matt told me you do not like flying that much" She gave me a warm smile and hugged me too.

"Thank you Ms. Sturniolo... No, it was all great I am so happy to be here" I said and her aura just made me not stress at all anymore.

"Oh please, call me Marylou, get in, choose the best seat before they all start to fight" She laughed.

Boys put all our stuff in the trunk and got in the back so I did seat in the front with their mom. She was asking me about myself and everything else. The conversation was very easy with her. All the way home we were just talking and catching up.

When we got to their house all the brothers just walked in and straight away were met with their dog. Trev was so happy to see them. He was wiggling his tail.

"Oh.. brothers are back Trevor...look at that happy boy" Their mom smiled.

"And Matty brought you new best friend" She aded happily and I smiled and kneeled to give Trevor my hand to sniff.

"Hi buddy I heard so much about you...you're so cute...oh yes you are" I smiled when he let me pet him.

"Probably more than about me, huh?" Their dad walked out from the living room and smiled.

"Hi everyone!" He said and each of his boys hugged their dad hello.

"Good Morning.." I smiled standing up from the floor.

"Hi y/n, I'm Jimmy" He smiled at me and I shook his hand gently and he stroked my arm warmly.

"It is so nice to see you... We were waiting to meet you I am so glad you could visit with boys. " He said and I smiled even more.

"Me too..." I truly said.

"Okay... we are going to put the stuff away and rest a little bit" Matt said.

"Yes.. You guys go, sweetheart if you would ever need anything let me know... I put extra stuff in their bathroom for you and please feel like it is your house" Marylou said and I smiled.

"Thank you..." I said.

We went to Matt's room and I smiled.

"Your parents and brother are just as you said... I am sorry I was stressing out so much. And your house is just so warm and feels like family and love" I said looking at him.

"I told you... Yes, I love coming back home...nowhere feels like here and now that you are here. I have all I need" He kissed me gently and I wrapped my arms around him.

"I love you.."He said when he moved away and I smiled.

"I love you too" I said back and he smiled and kissed my nose.

He always did that and I loved it. He was so cute for that.

"Okay... I will show you whole house later, you go to the bathroom first and than we can have a nap if you want or whatever. Mom said we can eat dinner together" He said and I nodded.

I loved being in Boston. First few days we all spend together. They were showing me around but also we had family movie nights and game nights. I felt very welcomed and part of the family. Their family was everything I ever wanted for my future family.

"Where are we going?" I asked one evening when Matt told me to dress warmer and take a hat.

"Oh.. remember how you told us you never ice skated before?" Chris smiled at me.

"No way...."I said.

"Oh yes way! We kinda booked our old ice ring for the evening" Nick said and I looked at them.

"Thats so cool! I cant wait to see you guys on ice" I said.

"Thats what they said about you" Nate laughed from the back.

He was also going with us.

Once we were there boys collected all the stuff they needed from the trunk and we went in.

"Here I bought this for you. I will help you put them on" Matt said handing me a box with a smile.

"You bought me ice skates? Matt..."I said and pouted my lips.

He kissed my lips and smiled.

"I always wanted to take you and I do not who actually wanted to see you on ice more me or my brothers" He laughed.

We sat on the bench and he helped be put on the skates after he put his own.

"Ready?" He asked and I looked at rest of the group already skating on ice. They were fast. Matt reached for me with his arms.

"Okay.. but do not let them run me over” I said standing up and not letting go of Matt's arms.

"I would never" He laughed and we slowly entered the ice.

"Yes!! Go y/n!" Nick clapped his hands for me and I smiled but concentrated on keeping myself up. He was filming me.

"Slowly...move your legs like you would roller-skate, you did that before so it should be easier" Matt said.

I did as he asked me and I was able to move myself. He let go of one of my arms.

"I think I got it!" I said happily but it caused me to lose my balance and I somehow fell on my bum.

"Ah..baby are you okay?" Matt helped me up and all of them gathered around me.

"Yes... guys I like fell skating 1 mile per hour and you gathered here like I was gonna die here” I laughed.

We spent all evening on ice and I got okay to the point where Matt wasn't scared that I am going to kill myself. They were also filming for a video. I helped them with the camera and was cheering from the bleachers.

I had so much fun. Here and in general. I already knew Boston had a special place in my heart. Seeing boys how they were here with their family and friends. I knew I would always want to be back here with Matt.

[cevansbrat0007]

The Do-Over

Summary: Everyone deserves a second chance, including jerks like Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson. Takes place directly after the events in Hello, Duchess.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Bucky Barnes, A Deep Love of Clark Bars, Light Groveling, Bickering, Discussions of Grief, Threats of Violence, Gentle Manhandling, Brief References to Negative Body Image, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Special thanks to my creative consultant, @curls-and-eyeliner. Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

An annoyed Ari takes a pull from his cigarette as he listens to his friend and fellow combat vet give him shit all the way from his office back in New Mexico. As soon as this was over, he was going to ditch this empty parking lot to find himself an ice cold beer and a goddamned steak. 

He was officially ready to put this day behind him. But first he needed a decent dinner.

“So let me see if I’ve got this right.” His friend begins, now that he’d finally stopped cursing up a blue streak. “Do you really mean to tell me that you took our best lead, which just so happened to be the perp’s girlfriend, and fucked it all to hell?”  

Okay, but just because that’s what happened doesn't necessarily mean that it was actually his fault. He’d just been a little off his game.

“Hey Buck, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re beginning to sound as dramatic as Rogers.”

“Steve would never fuck-up something this big for us.” He could practically hear the man flipping him off.

“I’m telling you this girl would’ve cut off Golden Boy’s balls and fed them to him for breakfast, okay?” He takes another puff, flicking some of the excess ash out his driver-side window. “Trust me.”

“Hold on.” An exasperated Bucky sighs into the receiver before placing the phone on his desk to speak to whoever had just walked into his office. He hoped whoever it was had better news than he did, otherwise he feared his old war buddy might have an aneurysm.

Sometimes he got the impression that Sergeant James “Bucky” Barnes was wound a little too tight.    

The silence drags on as Ari contemplates getting out of his car to stretch his legs. It’s another several minutes before Bucky is back on the line, and this time he sounds positively exhausted.

“We can’t afford to lose this one, man. Westbrook might be a piece of shit, but he’s an expensive piece of shit. So while I don’t care how you feel about the girl, you need to make things right. She could have some valuable intel.”

“Yeah, I know.” His mood darkens as he flicks the cigarette onto the pavement. As he watches it hit the ground, he finds himself wondering if it was finally time to quit the cancer sticks altogether. It’s not like he hadn’t thought about it before.

“Besides, what do you care if she was Westbrook’s fuck buddy?” Ari’s treated to the sound of his friend unwrapping something that sounded suspiciously like a candy bar. There was only one person who was known to keep that stuff at the office.

Which meant that shit had better not come from his personal stash, otherwise Bucky Barnes was a fucking dead man.

“I don’t.” Ari growls, sucking on his teeth. “And that had better not be a Clark Bar you’re eatin'.”

“Hate to break it to ya, pal. But based on what you told me earlier, it kinda sounds like you might.” There’s an unmistakable sound of a grin in his voice, which irks the bounty hunter to no end. 

“And I think it’s finally time you got your hearing checked, old man.” He growls back, although his words lack any real fire. 

“As for your precious Clark Bars,” he continues. “See, normally I’d pass on ‘em. But Pixie’s been on a health kick lately and she threw out all the junk food. So, I’m desperate.” Bucky gives an exaggerated groan. “Plus, she has no idea about your stash.” 

“Jesus.” Ari grumbles, firing up his engine with the intent to head back to the house he was currently renting. “I really wish you two would just suck face already and get it over with.”

“Mind your fucking business, Levinson.”

“Then keep your filthy hands off my fuckin’ Clark Bars, Barnes.” There’s a heavy sigh on the other line, prompting Ari to roll his eyes. All he wanted was for this conversation to fucking end.

“Look.” Bucky grunts. “You bring down this Westbrook fucker and I’ll buy you a goddamned case of those stupid bars. Alright?”

“You got yourself a deal.” Turning on his truck, Ari slowly heads for the exit as his stomach begins to rumble. Maybe he’d track down some shrimp to go with that steak.

“And fix whatever it is you fucked up with that bookstore broad while you’re at it.” 

“I’ll do my best.” He grimaces as his mind treats him to images of you threatening him with your taser. “But if that little spitfire puts me in the hospital you’re footin’ the bill.” And with that, Ari hangs up the phone.

As of now, he was officially done for the night.

A Few Days Later…

You’re sitting on the floor of your stockroom when you hear the tinkling of bells signaling the arrival of a customer. Groaning as you rise to your feet, you wipe your palms on the fabric of your pants and head to the front of the store. 

Business had been unusually slow today, so hopefully this patron - whoever they were - would be in the mood to buy something. As you were driving in this morning, you’d briefly considered holding another sale. Maybe it was time for another book fair. That seemed to be pretty popular the last time you’d done it. 

You’re in the middle of making a mental note to reach out to the local librarian when your eyes land on the absolute last person you wanted to see standing in your lobby: Ari Levinson. 

Not this guy again. 

“Yeah, it’s me.” He says, offering up an unapologetic shrug as he takes in the sight of you in your form-fitting yoga pants. 

Apparently you’d spoken out loud. Perhaps if you kept doing it, the man would eventually get offended enough to leave. Wishful thinking at its finest.

When the intruder realizes you don’t plan on speaking again, he decides to take advantage of the silence by doing something completely unexpected. 

“I just dropped by to, uh…” He takes a deep breath, rocking back on his heels. “Apologize for how our last meeting went. While it wasn’t my intention to insult you, I know that I did.” One big hand comes up to massage the back of his neck. “Just wanted to offer that, for whatever it’s worth.”

“Oh. Wow.” You reply dumbly, crossing your arms over your chest. For whatever reason, you got the distinct impression that he didn’t make apologies often. 

“You’re right, sweetheart. I don’t.” His lips turn up in an awkward grin as he takes a step toward you. “But a real man knows how to own up to his shit, which is exactly what I’m doin right now.”

“Okay.” 

Mouth suddenly dry, you go to take a step back, only to find that your legs no longer work. Next thing you know, Ari is in your space, his boot clad feet are now mere centimeters from your well-loved sneakers as he towers over you. 

He holds out his hand as a gesture of goodwill, silently imploring you to take it. Your eyes lock with his as yours moves on its own accord – almost as if you’d been entranced. 

Your hand feels so small and delicate in his grasp. And for a second, you wonder what it might be like to lace your fingers together. How it would feel to hold onto him so intimately for just a few seconds longer. You sneak a glance up at Ari, only to watch as his pupils dilate, his nostrils flaring just slightly. It’s enough to let you know that you’re not the only one affected.

“You think we might be able to try this again?” His deep baritone washes over you like a balm. “You have my word I’ll do a much better job of, uh, keeping myself in check.” 

Yanking your hand away, all you can do is nod. Part of you almost wished the man would go back to acting like an asshole. At least then you would know how to handle him. This so-called charming and apologetic Ari was a different beast entirely.

“I–” You swallow thickly. “Yes, that’s fine.”

“Thank you for your kindness.” His easy smile has the nerve to do funny things to the butterflies in your belly. “And while I would hate to do anything that might spoil this good will, I would like to ask you a couple of questions right now.”  

Instantly suspicious, you open your mouth to deliver a curt “no”. However, having already anticipated this, Ari is quick to amend his request by promising not to be too invasive. He also insists that he’ll follow your lead. 

“If at any moment you want to stop, we’ll stop. You have my word on that too, darlin’.” He surveys the room, absentmindedly scratching at his jaw. “You good with me ensuring we have a little privacy?” Again you nod, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible. 

Because at this point, it just didn’t make sense to kick the man out. Especially not when he seemed to be taking great pains to be respectful. You could only hope that he’d appreciate your cooperation enough to go bother someone else when you were through. 

Maybe it might be worth leading him back towards someone who’d actually appreciate his attention. Someone like your would-be frenemy, Charline Marshall. 

Seemingly encouraged by your response, the invasive bounty hunter hustles towards the door so that he could flip your sign from open to closed. And, unbeknownst to him, it also gives you a chance to begrudgingly appreciate just how good his ass looks in his Levi’s. 

Alright. So maybe you’d hold off on feeding Ari Levinson to Charline and her disciples – at least for right now.

“You know.” You cough, needing to give yourself a moment to recalibrate before you said or did something dumb. “I actually just remembered that I needed to fix a couple of things around the shop during my lunch break.”

An unruffled Ari simply smiles and winks back at you. “Thought you said you believed in your ability to multitask?”

You resist the urge to stick your tongue out at the smug bastard. Because he was right. You absolutely had said that. And then he’d had the gall to fucking listen. 

“Fine.” Shooting him a glare, you head over to the counter and toe-off your shoes. 

“Appreciate it, darlin’.” 

Just like last time, out comes his pen and tiny notebook. He flips it open to a new page before giving you his full attention. Meanwhile, you’re now hellbent on acting like he doesn’t exist. 

“How long have you owned your shop, Baubles & Quills?” 

If you were to look in his eyes at that moment, you would’ve seen them shining with genuine inquisitiveness. Almost as if he actually wanted to get to know you. 

“A few years.” You reply, bracing your hands on the flat surface of the desk. “I spent a large part of my childhood here, buried amongst books. My uncle left it to me when he passed. But I’m sure you already knew that.” 

Taking a deep breath, you send up a silent prayer to the Lord asking him not to let you fall before hefting yourself onto the counter with all the grace you can muster.  

“Maybe.” Ari concedes while jotting something down on his notepad. “But it’s different coming from – just what the hell are you doin’ woman?!”

“Checking out this light fixture.” You huff as you work to steady yourself.

“Any reason you couldn’t do that from the ground?” The bounty hunter surprises you by sounding more than a little stressed.

Confused by his response, you manage to spare a quick glance in his direction. Although your unlikely companion looks less than happy, you fail to fully grasp the nature of the problem. 

“Because I couldn’t quite tell if this whole panel was out, or just the one little section.” 

“Alright, well…” He drags an agitated hand through his already messy brown locks. “Now that you’ve seen it, how about you come on down from there?”

“Oh my goodness, Levinson.” An exasperated chuckle bubbles its way from your throat. “It’s just the counter. Save the freakout for when you find me on the flippin’ roof or something.” 

“You’re standin’ on the damned thing wearin’ nothing but socks. It’s like you’re askin’ to fall.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic.”

“How the hell is my expressin’ concern about your safety bein’ dramatic?” 

“Next question, buddy.” You have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing at the affronted look on the bounty hunter’s gorgeous face.

Ari forces himself to take a breath before attempting to return back to the task at hand. “I have it here that your Uncle is the late Lenny Barstowe. He was, by all accounts, an upstanding pillar of this community.”

“He was.” You agree, bending down to grab the duster resting near your feet. 

“You say he was your uncle, and yet you two don’t share the same last name.” He frowns when he notices your slight wobble. 

And for the tenth time in almost as many minutes he finds himself wondering why the fuck you didn’t hire someone to take care of shit like this for you? Hell, give him a ladder and a free afternoon and he’d handle things himself.      

“Wow. Nothing gets past you.” You sniff, trying to fight back a sneeze as dust goes flying. “They teach you those observation skills in private detective school?”

“Sure did.” Ari snorts without missing a beat, tucking the pen behind his ear. “First thing on the syllabus, in fact.”    

“Thought so.” 

“So glad we cleared that up.”

You can’t stop the small thrill that courses through you when you notice the newfound tick in his jaw. If you weren’t careful, you could find yourself growing addicted to that little zing in your blood. To that tiny spike in your pulse you felt every time you two sparred.  

“But if we could go back to your uncle, I’m sure losing him had to be hard – what with him being your only family.” He takes a turn fanning himself with his notebook. ”Was your friend, Martin, there for you during that difficult time?” 

That particular question actually makes you pause and reflect. You’d been so lost in grief back then, which is part of the reason it had taken you so long to claw your way out of that dark hole. And, if memory served, you’d done that majority of that clawing on your own.

“I’m sure he was around, Mr. Levinson.” Your answer sounds cagey, even to your own ears. “But I pretty much wore my grief like a sweater back then. And if I’m being honest, those first few months after losing him were nothing but a miserable haze.”    

“I know the feeling.” He murmurs as he scribbles on the page. 

“Look.” You blow out a breath as you attempt to gauge the distance between the desk and the ground. As of this moment, you officially regretted not grabbing your step stool. “I don’t know where Martin is or who he’s running from. All I know is that he was scared, but he refused to tell me anything more, okay?”

“Did he ask you for money?”

“Yes.” 

He’d also called you too. And while you choose to keep that little detail to yourself, you figure there was no harm in telling him about the money. At the time you’d had no idea you were potentially aiding and abetting a criminal. Or maybe you just hadn’t wanted to believe it.

“And did you give it to him?” The intense look in his beautiful blue eyes has you suddenly feeling foolish.  

“Yes.” 

It’s that one word, spoken barely above a whisper, that leaves Ari shaking his head. His gaze drops to the ground as he works to rein-in his temper. You have no idea what a struggle it is for him to do so – because he’s not upset with you. 

If anything, you’d just given him one more reason to run that slippery motherfucker into the goddamned ground. 

“How much did he get you for?” Even though Ari has calmed himself considerably, his tone still comes off harsher than he intends. 

“Almost $500.” You tell him, your face hot with embarrassment. “I suppose I should’ve asked more questions. You probably think I’m an idiot for –”

“It’s okay, darlin’.” He swiftly interjects, not wanting you to get upset. “You’re doin’ so great bein’ honest with me right now.” Unsure of what else to do, he tosses his notebook aside in favor of reaching for your hand. “I know this shit ain’t easy.”  

“I think I’m done for now.” You tell him, doing your best to avoid looking at your now joined hands. God, he really needed to stop doing that. “Please.”

“Okay.” He readily agrees as his thumb strokes along the ridge of your knuckles. “Then we’re done.” You watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows. “Are you gonna let me help you down off the counter before you kick me out?”

“It’s okay. Don’t want you to hurt yourself.” You mumble as you busy yourself with trying to figure out the easiest way to sit and scootch your way out of your current situation.

The last thing you needed was this man accidentally throwing out his back over some misplaced chivalry. 

To his credit, Ari decides to ignore your feeble protests. “C’mon and let me help you.” He repeats, gesturing for you to step towards the edge of the counter so that he can grab you by the waist. “And then I’ll be on my way.”

“Really, I’m fine.” You attempt to swat at his hands, which doesn’t actually work.

“C’mon, darlin’.” He assures you gently. “Just trust me.” The next thing you know, you’re suddenly being lifted into the air. “I got you.”

“Ack – I’m too heavy!” You squeal, immediately caught off guard by the way your legs briefly dangle in the air. Try as you might, you honestly could not remember the last time a man had picked you up. 

Your heart speeds up as he effortlessly sets you down on your feet, allowing your body to slide down the solid wall of his chest. Instinctively, your hands fly to his biceps in an effort to steady yourself. 

“Thank you.” You’re suddenly having a hard time breathing around this man. “But you really shouldn’t have done that. You could’ve hurt –”

“Sweetheart, you ain’t nothin’ but a feather.” Ari rumbles, his hands still resting firmly on your hips. 

“Somehow I doubt that.” You whisper, knowing that you should demand that he let you go. Except your body is too busy buzzing to actually cooperate. 

“Happy to prove you wrong any time.” While you suspect that he hadn’t really meant to say that, his smile is full of promise. “But right now, I’m afraid I’ve gotta head out.” Although it still takes another second for him to release you. 

Not that you’re complaining any. Which deep down you know could spell trouble for you. 

Before he leaves, however, Ari reaches into the front pocket of his jeans to hand you what looks a lot like a business card. “What’s this?” You mentally smack yourself in the forehead the moment the question leaves your mouth. 

“My card.” He responds as he now heads toward the door. “That’s my cell, just in case you need it.”

“Oh.”

“Call any time, day or night.” Ari’s gruff, no-nonsense tone goes straight to your core. “You remember somethin’ about Martin? Call me. You lookin’ for someone to stand guard while you lock up at night? Call me. You need to hear a friendly voice in the dark? Fucking call me.” 

His offer takes you by surprise. So much so, that you’re temporarily rendered speechless as you clutch the stiff piece of paper in your palm. While you weren’t sure if you’d ever take him up on his offer, you could certainly appreciate his generosity. 

“Thank you.” You rasp, your teeth going to nibble at your bottom lip.

“Any time, Duchess.” His head dips politely as he exits through the front door. “I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

And just like that he was gone, which meant you could finally breathe normally again. Strange butterflies once again fill your belly as you take your time examining the card your bounty hunter had left behind. While you weren’t sure if you’d ever call him, you decide it’s worth tucking into a zippered pocket in your purse before getting on with the rest of your day. 

Little did you know that you would come to need that tiny piece of paper sooner rather than later…  

END

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Farmer's Daughter 14

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You wake up with your head on Walt’s arm. You lay on your side, facing him as his chest rises and falls, a rumble thundering through him with each breath. His warmth has you in a sheen of sweat. You hesitate to move, not wanting to disturb him.

As you lay and listen to his snores, your stomach topturns. The realisation flows through you and turns to ice. As unusual as this awakening is now, this will be your forever. That’s what you agreed to. Your days, your nights, your everything will belong to Walt.

You squirm as suddenly you’re on fire, your scalp speckling with impending doom. You shift onto your back and slowly sit up. You bend your head forward and cover your face as you try to ease the spinning in your head.

You drag your feet from beneath the blankets and turn to sit with your back to him. To your future husband. You just can’t make it sound normal in your head.

You stand cautiously, mindful not to jostle the bed. His low snores carry through the air as you walk across the creaky floorboard, peeking over with each step. Your legs prickle with goosebumps as you get to the door. A shiver rolls over you and you hug yourself as the morning air flows up the bottom of the flannel shirt.

You leave him and find your way downstairs. You turn on the space heater and linger before it, building the courage to detach yourself from the glow of heat. You continue into the kitchen and carefully make your way around it.

The least you can do is make breakfast. You suppose that will be expected from now on. It’s not so out of the ordinary, it’s only Walt will be more than just a guest, more than a friend.

You take out eggs and a tray of breakfast sausage. You pause as you wonder if it’s too much. You hope he doesn’t mind.

You do your best to be quiet as you put a skillet on the oven to heat. You line a pan with the sausages and preheat the gas stove. You flutter your fingers anxiously as you wait, staying close to absorb some of the heat.

“Morning,” Walt’s gritty timbre sends a tremor through you.

You glance over as he enters, a brown robe around him as he rubs his eyes and sweeps his curls away from his face. You return his greeting as you crack the eggs into a bowl to whisk. He hums and nears the counter, grabbing a tin near the back.

“Coffee?” He wonders.

“Oh, no I–” you set the bowl down, “I didn’t– I can do that now.”

“Mm, thanks, sweetheart,” he puts the tin down and sidles closer to you, “sleep okay?”

His hand touches the small of your back as stands close. You nod, “mhmm,” you step up to the counter and grab the beat-up percolator. “Thanks, I… I did.”

“Rain’s let up,” he reluctantly parts and peers through the window as you fill the percolator from the tap, “should go out and check on the truck after breakfast… then we can head up to the bank.”

“The bank?” You shut off the faucet and loud the grinds, then pop the metal lid into place. You put the metal jug onto the burner and twist the knob.

“Get some thing’s sorted. I told your mother I’d bring some paperwork,” he explains as he sits in one of the wooden chairs. He watches you intently as you face him. He’s quiet as his eyes rove you from head to toe. A breath fills his chest, “and we can tell her the news.”

You try to smile and quickly turn your attention back to the eggs. You put oil on the skillet as you clear your throat, “yeah, she’ll… I think she’ll be happy.”

“Could do a lot worse around here,” he grits.

“I didn’t mean…” you shake your head as the oil sizzles, “I only… I’m getting used to the idea still.”

“Seem to be getting used to it,” he remarks, “lucky me got a woman like you to wake up to, make me breakfast…”

“Uh, yeah,” you pour the eggs into the pan.

He lets a long exhale and the chair groans beneath his weight, “it’s like a dream come true. Finally,” he drawls as the savoury smell of sausages blooms from the over, “about time I settled down. Least that’s what the old crones whisper down at the grocery store.”

“Oh, ha, well, everyone talks,” you shrug, “I’m sure they whisper about me too.”

“Uh huh, I heard them,” he scoffs as his tone harshens, “about you talking to Odinson… making eyes at him.”

“What–” you nearly choke, “I…I didn’t— I wouldn’t.”

You scrape the pan to scramble the eggs as your voice knots in your throat. It feels like an accusation but you know it was harmless. Thor was just being helpful and that was weeks ago.

“Well, you won’t,” he says tersely, “from now on, I don’t want you being friendly with the likes of him. He’s no good.”

“Walt, I wasn’t–”

“That’s before,” he interjects, “this is now. We’re gonna be married. Things are different.”

“I know,” you eke out, “but I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t do that.”

“Uh huh, but you flirted with me,” he insists.

“I…” you stop yourself before you begin. You didn’t flirt with him, you were nice to him. Like you always were. Like you had been for years.

“Sweet thing like you, it’s easy to get the wrong idea and men like Odinson, they always get the wrong idea,” he growls.

The percolator trembles and you turn off the burner. You quickly twist the other down to low and put a lid over the eggs to keep them warm. You turn to the cupboard and pick out a mug with an ombre of brown. You pour the steaming coffee and bring it to him.

“You don’t have to mope, I’m just making you aware,” he says, “you’re too sweet to see it. I’m protecting you. That’s what a husband does, right?”

You make yourself smile and swallow, “of course, thank you.”

“No, thank you,” he takes the mug from you with a wink, “look at you, my sweet little wife.”

[ikeuverse]

FAV PERSON IN THE WORLD — p.jongseong

PAIRING: uncle!jay x fem!reader GENRES: angst, fluff WC: 3.6k+

WARNINGS: mention of food poisoning, mention of vomiting, mention of food too. just a completely sensible uncle jay, not a lot of warnings. lmk if i missed anything.

SYNOPSIS: jay has always put his nephew above all else, loving him unconditionally. but one incident – completely normal – makes him question whether he really is a great uncle.

NOTES: i made a poll a while back about uncle!enhypen. originally my thought was not going to be for jay, but this idea flooded me and i simply had to write. that's all! hope you like it.

masterlist

The Park family parties were memorable. Whether it was a simple dinner or lunch, or a completely glitzy birthday celebration, that was the purpose, even more so after Oliver, Jongseong's nephew, was born.

During the boy's twelve years, every birthday Jongseong made a point of working hard on the decorations, attractions, and places where the parties would take place. Elaborate halls, the backyard pool at his parents' house. Even renting a home on the beach and spending the weekend when Oliver turned eight, he told Louise and Heeseung, Oliver's parents, that he would give them this gift. Now, the famous twelfth birthday is coming up and it couldn't be any different.

The day started off bright for Jongseong as if he were turning another year older. But with the birth of Oliver twelve years ago, everything changed in uncle Jay's life. He was always loving and did everything for his sister, but after his nephew was born, everything was for him. All the extra attention and love Jongseong got was for Oliver.

The packets of sweets he brought on the way home, made a point of stopping by his sister's house just to say hello to the little boy. Let Heeseung and Louise deal with it, he wasn't there to see them. Jongseong had known them forever, and they got the attention they deserved. Now it was the youngest's turn to have it all.

And that's why the boy decided to dedicate one more moment on that date to Oliver's day. From the moment Jongseong woke up, he kissed you good morning quickly and left the house to pick up the little one. The two of them would go out for a walk and buy something, whatever he wanted. Then they would get ready for the big night in a hall with an arcade and lots of video games. The perfect place to turn twelve with school friends and close family. It was an exciting adventure and they both looked like two excited kids. Oliver, incredible as it seemed, was more restrained than his uncle.

But Jongseong couldn't have predicted when things would go wrong. Least of all eating so much candy before the big party would result in a boy bent over the toilet vomiting for the fourth time in less than thirty minutes.

He felt terrible. The worst uncle in the world for not foreseeing that mixing ice cream, a snack with an extra layer of cheese and lots of soda could weaken Oliver's stomach. Let alone that it would ruin the party he had planned for a month.

“What's up, buddy?” Heeseung leaned against the doorframe, sighing defeatedly when he saw his son throwing up again. Jongseong didn't want to leave his nephew's side for a second “Louise is with Y/n at the pharmacy to get the medicine, I think I'll get him some more tea—”

“Dad, no” Oliver took a deep breath, his head close enough to the toilet to echo the sound throughout the bathroom as he spoke “I can't take any more tea.”

“But it's great for the stomach, buddy” he said, “and your grandmother always gave it to me and Uncle Jay when we had… food poisoning.”

“When you were both drunk enough, right?” Oliver laughed, looking at Jongseong and then at his father, slowly raising his eyes and taking a few more breaths. It had been a few minutes and he had stopped vomiting, at least “Mom told me that story once.”

“Your mother's a big mouth” Jongseong grimaced, sitting down on the bathroom floor next to his nephew, occasionally running one hand over his back “But your granny's tea does cure everything the stomach is capable of rejecting.”

“I don't want to…” he whimpered, feeling his stomach ache. There was nothing left to put out and he believed he had already thrown up enough. His head was aching, his whole body as fragile as a sheet of paper. Meanwhile, Heeseung felt his heartache at seeing his son like that, but it was nothing compared to how Jongseong was feeling.

It was all his fault. If the two of them hadn't gone out that morning and eaten everything in sight, at least Oliver would be well enough to enjoy his birthday party. Or if he had been a slightly more responsible uncle, he would have put a limit on what the two of them could eat. Jongseong could have listened to you that morning when you told him to be careful because he should save himself for the party at night, but he didn't. He wanted to do whatever he wanted. He wanted to do what the little boy wanted and enjoy it with him. Now he was paying the price and with an even heavier heart.

“Uncle Jay” Oliver's voice echoed in the older man's ears, making him abandon his thoughts and focus on what he was saying. The pale face and watery eyes staring at him made Jongseong hold back the knot in his throat that was beginning to form.

“Yes?” he tried to say in a firm voice, almost cursing himself when she faltered.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

That I'm the worst uncle in the world.

The sound of the door opening, conversation, and footsteps on the floor below spared Jongseong the answer he wanted to give. He heaved a sigh of relief when he heard his sister's voice talking to Heeseung and the sound of her footsteps hurrying up the stairs.

“Son” she came into the bathroom, a bag in her hands, rummaging through whatever was in it in a bit of a hurry “Your aunt and I talked to the pharmacist and he gave me this medicine here” she took the small bottle from the bag and knelt down next to Oliver and Jongseong. She tried to smile at her brother, giving him a little more comfort. Louise knew how crazy her brother was about his nephew, she admired and loved it so much “You can have some, yeah?”

“Mom” he pouted, his corsican eyes almost begging for nothing else to enter his mouth apart from that bad tea he'd been drinking all along.

“Please, I promise you'll get better soon, okay?” she knew he would. That medicine was the salvation of all problems.

Still hesitant, Oliver kept looking at his mother with his Corsican eyes, almost pleading. There was a clear resemblance to Heeseung and a little bit of Jongseong. She smiled as she opened the bottle and poured in the amount indicated on the lid, which could easily serve as a mini cup.

As if asking permission before anything else, Oliver's eyes focused on Jongseong and how he still stared at his nephew. He didn't care if his mother was right there, she was the one who had to say yes or no to him. But his uncle's opinion and acceptance were more important than anything.

Nodding slowly, Jongseong seemed to encourage him, giving him a quick smile before his eyes focused on his sister. Louise raised the medicine to her son's lips and slowly made him take it. Even with grimaces and noises of denial, Oliver drank every drop until there was nothing left, holding back the urge to get it all out. But he knew that if he did that, he'd have to take the medicine again, and he didn't want to go through that twice.

“Now you're going to be fine, my love” she sat down across from him, kissing him on the top of the head.

Oliver disentangled himself from the toilet to snuggle close to his mother, her lap making him feel a little safer and less vulnerable than he was. Jongseong slid down a little further, leaving that moment for his sister and nephew to enjoy together. But he didn't go that far as he felt a small weight on his arm, Oliver's hand slowly sliding down and pulling him a little closer.

He smiled faintly, looking at Louise and Oliver hugging, and staying in place. That moment calmed his nerves a little, although he still had the thought that he'd ruined everything.

You didn't have to say a word to know that Jongseong had been wanting to fall apart ever since he left Louise and Heeseung's house. His fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly as he drove, not saying a word to you. Just nodding now and then when you asked something and murmuring in agreement when you tried to break the silence. The air was getting heavy as the two of you arrived at the shared apartment.

Jongseong was never one to get up front, always waiting for you with his hand resting on your back. Exchanging a few kisses here and there and playing with you even if the day had been the worst of all. But at the end of the day, with the weight on his shoulders, he went up to the apartment floor while you opened the back door of the car to get your coats and your travel bag. It had been intended for the change of clothes from the party, but with the event, everything was postponed and you had your clothes and your husband's in that bag, carrying it into the apartment.

When you entered the shared space, the only noise coming from inside was the shower, indicating that Jongseong would already be in the bath. It would probably take longer than usual. He spent a considerable amount of time under the shower when he had a particularly unbearable day at work, so you couldn't even tell how long he would be taking today into account.

Leaving the travel bag in the corner of the sofa, walking into the kitchen and leaning on the counter, thinking about what you could make him eat, or even thinking about how to talk to him to try to find out what you could do. It also left you feeling a little lost. Jongseong's love for Oliver was clear, and in the boy's twelve years, you'd never seen his uncle so shaken up.

Of course, things had happened, like Oliver breaking his knee while Jongseong and Heeseung were trying to teach him how to ride a bike. Jongseong let a tear fall when he saw his nephew whimpering. You secretly helped him clean up, managing to say words of comfort that he soon understood. Also remember the time Oliver got into a fight at school for the first time; the contrast that was Heeseung a little dazed, trying to talk peacefully to his son and teaching him that things could be solved with dialog or that he could talk to the teacher. Jongseong, on the other hand, was asking who had pushed him, and if he had fought back and was hurt. Oh, he was going to that school the next morning to get some satisfaction!

You laughed alone at the little thoughts surrounding your husband's relationship with his nephew, wondering what it would be like when you and he had a child too. Jongseong was the most loving and protective guy you'd met since the day you became best friends with Louise in college, seeing the way he treated his sister among so many frat guys. Caring brother and, a caring boyfriend. You've been lucky since the day you started dating him.

The sound of the shower turning off woke you up from your nostalgic thoughts, so you thought you should take some action instead of standing around thinking about everything and nothing at the same time.

Jongseong was probably taking his time drying off, applying some cream, and changing his clothes. That would give you time to open the fridge and see what you could make for him. Maybe cut up some fruit and put it in a small bowl with honey… That would calm him down somewhat. Alcohol, no way. Jongseong would bury himself in a whole bottle of whisky and soon you'd be just like him and Louise, holding him down while he flushed everything down the toilet just like Oliver that same day.

The sound of distant footsteps gradually approaching made you smile a little. The fruit was already cut, a good amount of honey was poured over the slices and you walked over to the cutlery drawer to pick up a fork. Your gaze lifted to the figure that had just entered the kitchen.

“Hey, love” you greeted him with a smile, only to be greeted with a weak smile back. He approached you in slow steps, without saying much, dragging his slippers across the kitchen floor until he stopped next to you.

“Hi” the husky voice whispered, which you only heard because of how close you were to each other now. Otherwise, sure you would have asked him to repeat it.

Jongseong's hands gripped your waist, slowly pulling you towards him as you placed your fork on the counter and flattened your hands against his chest. From that angle, with your face close to your husband's, you could see how red his eyes were. The pigment trailed down to the tip of his nose. His cracked lips were a little darker in color, perhaps Jongseong had bitten so hard that he almost hurt himself, not wanting you to hear him cry in the shower.

“Jay” you whispered, raising one of your hands to touch his face. The subtle touch of your fingertips was too much for him to bear, and he felt his eyes sting again and couldn't hold back the urge to shed even more tears.

His heart was aching, each salty tear running down his cheek and being wiped away by your fingertips. You pulled his face a little lower, resting your forehead against his and letting him cry as much as he needed to relieve what he was feeling. Even if you wanted to stop it all. Jongseong needed to let it out a little more, to feel vulnerable enough to be trembling in your arms. His fingers wrapped tightly around your waist, squeezing you as if he didn't want to let you go.

“I—” he sobbed, swallowing a large ball of saliva with the amount of anguish and pain that lingered in his throat “I'm a terrible uncle— Shit, Oliver's going to hate me for the rest of my life” another sob, this time a little louder.

“Baby, hey” you were desperate to make him stop thinking that kind of thing, Jongseong's sobs only making it worse “Look at me, please” your plea ignited something in him, the tone of your voice being soothing, even though the boy was still in tears. His eyes quickly forced themselves to focus on you, even though his vision was blurred, he looked at you.

The broken look and trembling lips made you let out a sad sigh at the sight. Very few times have you been able to see him like that, and each time it was even more heartbreaking.

“I made you something to eat and, well…” you looked between his eyes and his entire tear-soaked face, painted a light pink against your husband's tanned skin “How about we go to bed and do that?”

“All right” Jongseong's voice was hoarse and shaky, he just obeyed you. You didn't have the strength to challenge anything while you felt that he was still holding you, with no indication that he was going to let you go.

You didn't mind doing everything for him. From holding his hand to picking up the container with the other and walking with him to the bedroom. The instructions for him to sit on the bed while you left the jar of fruit with honey next to the bedside table, now focusing on taking off your clothes for the day and replacing them with a large, baggy T-shirt that Jongseong had bought for himself some three years ago. You stole it, and he never cared.

Walking towards him, his tearful eyes and quiet position sitting on the bed with his back against the headboard made you smile again. He looked like an older baby, pouting without realizing it as you approached and stopped next to him on the bed. Your husband's eyes followed your every move as you propped yourself up on the mattress enough to get close and sit against his lap. Bending down far enough to pick up the fruit jar and plunge your fork into a very red strawberry filled with honey on top.

“Open your mouth, young man” you ordered, noticing that his eyes shifted from you to the pot, only realizing at that moment what you would give him to eat. Jongseong was so engrossed that he didn't see anything, only the moment a strawberry was hovering over his face. He gave the first laugh of the night, slowly moving his body beneath his.

“Did you put honey on all that?” he asked, trying to sound a little firmer as he opened his mouth to eat the fruit. A sound of contentment came from his lips, knowing how much that sweetness soothed him. Even after years of doing this, Jongseong never thought that a sweet liquid could do wonders for his body.

He ate in silence, letting you feed him each fruit, now and then asking for an extra amount of honey, only to smear it on his lips and wipe them with a small smile.

“Thank you” he said, feeling satisfied almost halfway through the pot. He held it in his hands, placing it back on the bedside table so that you were free of any utensils while he wrapped his arms around your waist. Burying your head against his chest and feeling your arms encircle his neck.

“I love you” you whispered softly, your lips between black hair with the scent of freshly washed shampoo. You gave Jongseong's temple a quick kiss, sliding your lips down to his forehead to linger there. The skin you loved so much slid over your lips until you brushed your forehead against his “And you know you didn't do anything wrong, right?”

“But—” Jongseong sighed “Look at everything I've caused, Y/n. You don't have to say that to make me feel better.”

“But I'm not doing that” your hands rested on his shoulders, sliding down to grip either side of Jonseong's neck. With their foreheads still together, you could feel his breath against your lips every time he said something.

“I ruined Ollie's birthday, he's got a bad stomach because of me—”

“You made his twelfth birthday very memorable” you interrupted him, seeing the boy's curious eyes quickly go to yours, searching for some answer or continuation of what you were saying.

“We had to postpone his party, love.”

“But you spent the whole day with him” you said. “Love, you're Oliver's favorite person. And even without a party, he just wanted to spend time with you, and that was worth it.”

Is he his nephew's favorite person? Really? Jongseong's eyes practically begged for it to be true, that you weren't talking out of your mouth.

“Did you see him complaining about the party being canceled?” you asked your husband. He tried to search his memory during the turbulent hours between seeing his nephew fall ill and how much he ran so that the little boy wouldn't throw up on the way. But he couldn't remember a single moment when he had even mentioned the birthday party.

“He didn't even mention the party” Jongseong whispered, watching your smile widen a little more as he came to his senses. That was what it was all about.

Oliver didn't care about the party, although the family always liked to celebrate. He just wanted to spend time with uncle Jay, to take part in all the adventures his uncle provided. The party was just a complement to the day because everything was worthwhile from the moment Jongseong arrived to pick him up and spend the day with him.

“Not to mention the fact that he'll take this with him for life” you left a quick kiss on Jongseong's lips “Can you imagine him remembering that he was sick on his twelfth birthday because uncle Jay took him out?”

“Do you think he'd remember?” he laughed a little, returning the kiss once more. Feeling your lips on his slowly chased away even more of the bad sensations in his body.

“Actually” taking advantage of the fact that his mouth was still pressed lightly against yours, you whispered, sliding your lower lip between his lips. One of your hands went up to Jongseong's face, caressing the skin of his cheek “Imagine Oliver telling our son how insane it was to spend his twelfth birthday next to his uncle?”

“Oh” he laughed against your mouth, sliding his teeth over your bottom lip slowly “How about we practice on that now, then?” you felt Jongseong's hands slide down to your ass, squeezing the flesh on either side before pressing your hips a little closer to his. You let out a laugh, slowly opening your mouth.

“I think that's a good idea” you said.

That was a great way to let all the stress and worry out of Jongseong's body. With the thought that he was the favorite person in his nephew's life, that hadn't made him such a bad uncle. Add to that the desire to make real the thought he'd had of a mini Jay or a mini you sitting next to his nephew, listening to the crazy stories he and Oliver had told over the years.

Maybe one slip-up and one memorable story wouldn't make him such a bad uncle after all.

© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.

[eminems-skittles]

Jess Mariano with the prompts 1. “Are you cold?” “No.” And 12. “My jacket looks good on you.” (But they’re not dating yet and there’s tension between them🥹)

25 days of christmas event

pairings: jess mariano x reader

warnings: none just fluff

a/n: hope you like it anon!!! i love writing jess <3

why you were voluntarily out in the cold, harsh wind, you weren’t sure. it was the morning of the snowman building contest and there was nothing you wanted more than to be snuggled in bed with all the blankets you could find. the cold air hitting your face was probably the harshest of wake up calls and the cold bench you were sitting on did little to prevent the shivers that were jolting through you. the only thing offering any relief from the icy air was the near empty cup of coffee from luke’s diner.

making the trek to luke’s seemed to take longer than you would have and you debated running across the street to get there that much quicker.

you sighed gratefully as the warmth of the diner overtook you, heating your cold nose and cheeks while you removed your gloves.

“hey y/n,” jess said as he walked by you with a smile that seemed to only be reserved for you. “i’ll be right there.”

you nodded, your face heating up for an entirely different reason. of course he had to be there when you were nowhere near functioning as a normal person would. you walked over to the counter and sat down, relieved to be sitting on something that didn’t feel like sitting on an ice cube.

“more coffee?” luke asked, moving to grab the pot from where it was sitting. you opened your to-go cup and placed it on the counter in front of you.

“yes please,” you sighed. luke filled the paper cup up with coffee before moving on to the next customer. jess appeared behind the counter a moment later.

“luke already get you coffee?” he asked. you nodded as you took a sip, the warm liquid already warming you up. “i was just about to head out there, you coming?”

“sure,” you agreed, immediately mentally cursing yourself. you were freezing you didn’t want to go back outside so why on earth did you agree? it was simple. jess asked you to, so you said yes.

jess called to luke saying he’d be right back and the two of you made your way back into the harsh cold. he led the way to the same bench you previously occupied. a silence that was equal parts awkward yet comfortable over took the two of you and the shivers that wracked your body returned.

“are you cold?” jess asked after a minute of silently observing you. that seemed to be what he did best. he was always observing, picking up on the things you believed to be nearly imperceptible.

“no,” you replied stubbornly. he could see you were cold, you might as well have ‘i’m freezing’ written across your forehead in sharpie. “it’s just a little chilly.”

“y/n, you’re shaking like a chihuahua,” he stated simply. before you knew it, he was shrugging off his jacket and placing it in your hands. “put it on.”

“aren’t you going to be cold?” you asked him.

“i’m going back in soon, i’ll be fine,” he said. you sighed and stood up, removing the jacket you were currently wearing and replacing it with his much larger, must warmer jacket. he smiled at the sight and if he noticed you subtly inhaling the traces of his cologne on the jacket, he didn’t say anything.

you smiled shyly at him muttering a quiet thank you. his hand came up to your face, pushing a piece of hair that had fallen in front of your face behind your ear. his eyes trailed down to his jacket again.

his hand was resting on your cheek now and his thumb brushed across it, trying to send some warmth to your face in order to stop you from freezing. he leaned in but was interrupted by something cold hitting him.

“get back to work!” luke yelled, brushing snow off his hands. as he was walking back to the diner, he shouted “i’m not paying you to flirt!”

“did he really just throw a snowball at me?” jess asked incredulously, trying to get the snow off of his t-shirt.

you laughed and he smiled back at you. “so you have to get back?”

“apparently,” jess grumbled, annoyed that his uncle cut his time with you short. he started walking back to the diner but before he could get too far, he turned back to face you. “my jacket looks good on you. keep it.”

and like that, he had disappeared back into the diner and your crush on him grew impossibly larger. suddenly, the cold wasn’t all that unbearable, the warmth from his jacket (and his words) spreading through you like wildfire.

[lingerina]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀𝐎𝓥𝐄𝐑𝐃𝐑𝐈𝓥𝐄 － yu jimin

␥ karina x fem!reader ␥ 916 words 🚨 choking, overstimulation, dacryphilia (?), praise ␥ you swore to never work for a rideshare app again but getting laid off leaves you no choice. you end up becoming someone’s getaway driver, not realizing you’re in for way more than you bargained for. ␥ A/N inspired by this ask (and reblogs) from ages ago. also could be read as (sort of?) optional bias since i realized i never used her name here. 🧍🏻‍♀️ and it took me this long to write for my bias? 🤪

You never wanted to go back to Uber but after being laid off and having bills due soon, you had no choice.

You earned the most when you drove around the airport, downtown, and during late-night hours, which were windows to some of the craziest things you’ve previously experienced as a driver. You’ve gotten caught up in a drug deal and bank heist before, which was why you swore to never be an app driver again.

Every ride, you hoped that your passengers were normal law-abiding citizens who just needed a ride to the local market or something. Fortunately, they had been.

Until you made the mistake of driving off with a passenger who wasn’t the one that ordered a ride from you.

She had run up to your car—impressively in heels—and slammed the door shut as if she was being chased, shouting for you to drive off before you even get a chance to confirm you’re picking up the right person. Meeting her sharp eyes in your rear view mirror startled you into stepping on the gas because in the pit of your guts, you were uncertain if you were in harm’s way again and ignoring her might actually put your life on the line.

The ride had been silent, your actual passenger that you’d driven past being one of the only two thoughts crossing your mind after you had hovered a shaky hand over your phone, that’s mounted to the air vent, to cancel her request. You didn’t know where you were driving, and you couldn’t accept any other ride that were popping up on your app. There were more red areas on the map, indicating major activity and hefty tips that you could’ve gotten your hands on had you refused to let the mysterious raven-haired beauty in your car.

She stared out the window for what felt like hours. She didn’t utter a word and you were too afraid to ask questions. You aimlessly drove around, hoping she would finally say something and end this torture.

When she abruptly met eyes with you in the mirror again, you startled.

You tried to break the ice and asked for her destination, but what followed was more silence, a sudden request to park in the parking lot of an abandoned warehouse, and two-word commands for you to step out and join her in the backseat where she ended up breaking you.

You’re seated on her lap with your back pressed against her chest and her hand wrapped around your throat. Taunting words brush over your ear, inducing a chill that ripples down your spine as three of her fingers are inside you. Your body horribly betrays you as your car echoes with the filthy squelches of your dripping pussy and your cries as she violates you.

Nonetheless, you part your legs wider and buck against her hand, tears pricking the corners of your eyes from your morals dissipating and your desire to be broken burning. With your leggings torn at your crotch and bearing the stains of your pleasure, you’re reduced to nothing but a moaning mess for a gorgeous stranger who may or may not be dangerous.

She squeezes tighter, her well-manicured nails threatening to pierce the soft skin of your throat, a low praise of ‘good girl’ uttered at the shell of your ear threatening the sliver of sanity you have left. You catch your breath when she releases her grip, which moves down your clavicle to tear at the collar of your tee. She yanks at your bra, unveiling your breast for the palm of her hand, and kneads in tandem with the pace of her fingers.

Your head lolls back over her shoulder, hoarse moans polluting your once-silent vehicle as she fucks you harder. Tension grips at your limbs, your toes curling as her curled digits reach that spot. The spot where you need her most.

“Come on, baby,” she purrs with a sly smirk. “Give it to me.”

You oblige on cue. Your eyes roll back as you soil her hand in the midst of ecstasy, your wetness dirtying her dress, her lap, and the back of the seat. She didn’t spare you mercy before, and she’s definitely not sparing you now.

She toys with you until you think you’ve given her your all. As soon as you fall limp, she slips back inside you and you swiftly ascend to your brink once more, the sensitivity blurring your vision with white dots as you gush all over her. 

She refuses to let you recuperate. Just when you think it’s over, she makes her unwelcome return, her expert fingers repeatedly bringing you to ecstasy like a broken film. She gets off on your tears and pleas because they’re a stark contrast to you squirting all over her and dirtying your car in the process. When she’s had her fill, she shifts you off her lap like a discarded toy and finally steps out without a word, leaving you alone in the abandoned parking lot.

With the silence and post coital clarity setting in, you sit up straight and stare at the mess you made. You don’t need a mirror to know that you do not look presentable to customers at all.

Fortunately, it’s still early in the morning. You can rush home, clean yourself and your car up, and still have a whole day to earn money.

You just hope that you don’t have another potentially dangerous or salacious run-in again.

[cherry-pop-elf]

Over For Dinner

Art The Clown x Reader

AN: I got SO MUCH love for my Your Own Happy Ending so here we are with more horror x reader content!

Sum: Halloween had passed and Christmas was just around the corner. You were just doing some domestic things when you couldn’t help but notice a window was open. One you had locked

Warnings: 18+, Violence, gore, home intruder, Art being Art, MUTE Art (gotta take the disability rep when we can) gun violence, implied cannibalism, attempted sexual assault, (but we all know revenge is on its way. Shout out to my fellow victims that need their comfort killer to kill their abusers) it’s gonna get messy, very horror aesthetic story line, just. Art being art. (Needs another warning 😭) and of course domestic fluff as icing on this murder cake

“Honey! Where did you put the Christmas lights?!” You shouted to your boyfriend, only to stumble upon them in the kitchen. Just where he had left them for you.

“NEVER MIND-!”

You would grab the box, and started to hang the slightest all through out the interior of the home. Oh the joys of LED lights. Saves you money while still enjoying the festive spirit.

It wasn’t Halloween, sure, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be fun. To enjoy the lights, music, sounds, and pleasures. Each holiday had its own little flavor. Some might not enjoy certain flavors, others may have a favorite. Doesn’t hurt to dabble in multiple.

You were humming away at some Christmas tune, while wrapping the lights or hanging them, when you stumbled upon an open window. You would poke your head out, and looked around. Was wondering where that draft came from.

You pulled your head back in, and then closed it shut. That’s when you noticed something was off with the lock. It was locked in place, yet the window had been open. You gave the window another look over and found that the wood work looked strange. Like someone shoved a crowbar between it and forced it open. The small splintering a reaction from it.

“Honey?” You called out, trying to reason that maybe it was his doing. Some kind of prank of sorts. Yeah. Your boyfriend was quite the card after all. Would make sense that he would do something wild. Always liked to keep you on your toes.

Still…..This wasn’t his style. Not his style at all. Was way too subtle. He’s NOT the subtle type.

You hurried back into the kitchen, and pulled out one of the knives from your block. Someone was inside the house. Someone who shouldn’t be.

“Hey honey?! You still in the attic?!” You called out, as you slowly walked the hallways. Maybe if you kept making it clear you weren’t the only one in the house that the intruder would get scared and run off. Right?

That’s what you hope anyway. You had a theory that this person assumed you lived alone. Your boyfriend always made sure to leave the house at night, and it was normally very late at night no less. People wouldn’t assume you had someone live with you.

“Honey?!” You called again, wondering why he wasn’t responding. Yeah he can’t respond, but he had ways to indicate he heard you. You made the effort to learn sign language for him, and he made the effort to find alternatives to share his voice with you.

Just where was it right now?

Slowly through the hallways you went. Each step as calculated as it could be. Every creak of a floorboard was memorized by all your little hide and seek games with your partner. All the corners treated with care. Any sound you heard was listened as hard as ears could muster.

Nothing but wind, cars driving by, and your own breathing.

Like a crack of lighting the back of your head was grabbed, and your face was slammed into the wall. Such pain made your body instinctively let go of your blade, and reach for where you hurt. Curse your human reaction. Hardly so much as touched your face when you were yanked away from the bloody wallpaper.

A arm was around your throat, and another around your waist. Your fingers tried to tear at the arm on your neck, but the invader was wearing thick clothing. No way for you to get any kind of hit. All you could do was fight to breathe.

“I know you are home all alone. That Honey bullshit isn’t fooling me. Now just play nice and you won’t get hurt more than needed. Got it?” The man would speak into your ear, as you felt cold metal being pressed against your temple.

Guess you gotta play nice.

“The hell do you want, huh?” You snapped. Suppose when your lover is a few lions short of a full circus you don’t get scared of dangerous situations as easy as you should. If this was between you and your boyfriend it would simply be foreplay.

“Well for starters money. You got yourself a pretty fancy house here. Not enough for security cameras, but it’s clear you got enough. I also want to have some fun with you. No point wasting a warm body.” He chuckled at you, as he would rub the gun across your body. Made you want to gag. Or was that just the borderline suffocation?

“Fuck off. For your information I do have a boyfriend. My boyfriend is an insane bastard no less. He’s going to turn you into mush for what you are doing to me. He’s around here somewhere. Must be behind the house helping decorate. You are dead meat when he comes in here!” You threatened, just to get the barrel of the gun pointed back at your temple.

“Oh will you fucking shut up? You got no boyfriend. I’ve been watching this house for ages. Never seen him once. It’s always just been you. I sure as hell never heard him either-!” That’s when you had to cut in. “He’s mute you shit head. Of course you wouldn’t hear him-!” That just made him laugh.

“You are really sticking to that whole boyfriend thing, huh? Well if it’s true then that means you know how to please a man. Don’t you?” That made you shiver in disgust, as he gave another tight hug around your waist. Just finding any excuse to touch you.

That’s when there was the sound of the back door opening.

“Who the fuck is that?” He would grit between his teeth, as you grinned.

“My boyfriend. Duh.”

That didn’t please him one bit. The attacker was soon trying to drag you somewhere else in the house. To try and maybe buy some time to think of how to handle two people against one. You sure made sure he struggled though. Kicking your legs, and trying to make a noise. The cold metal to your temple made it clear you couldn’t speak or it’s game over. So all you can do is legs.

He was making an attempt for the stairs, to try and make distance away from the back door, but that just gave you the perfect kicking items. You nailed each photo frame you could with your feet. Sent them crashing down, and glass breaking. Was very loud against the quiet house. Not to mention since it’s on the stairs they would go toppling down.

That noise alerted your boyfriend in an instant, and now he was at the bottom of the stairs.

He looked like such a normal guy. Snow was still fresh on his black boots and pants. A cozy white sweater and gloves. A nice finish was a black beanie. Looked like your typical string bean. The only thing that seemed off at all was his very defined nose. If not that, just another guy off the street.

“Watch it! I’m the one with the gun here! Don’t try anything or the bitch gets it!” The man would yell at your boyfriend, as said boyfriend held his hands up. Acting as if he was a scared man.

“We are going to do things my way. That means no funny business, got it?!” You couldn’t stop your snort, despite the dire situation. Had him look down at you, and press the gun harder into your temple.

“The hell is so fu-!”

Bang.

The intruder wasn’t the only one with a gun.

He was just to damn fast for the attacker to comprehend. One second he had a gun at your head, the next he was tumbling down the stairs. Screaming in pain, as he had been shot right into his hand.

“I warned ya! But no~! Someone wanted to be all big and tough huh?” You mocked, as you would come down the stairs. Stepped right over him, and gave your knight in shining armor a kiss of gratitude. Arms wrapped around his neck, and his own around your waist.

“Eh. Guess we should be good hosts and have him over for dinner. I know you love fresh meat.” You giggled, as your attacker was in pain and confusion. Didn’t have time to ask what you meant, before he was tossed over the shoulder of the man who shot him. Gun playfully spinning in his hand, as you focused on cleaning up the mess.

You would hum away, as you would hang up the photos that weren’t broken, meanwhile the intruder was screaming for help. Begging for god to save him.

There was no god here.

You would take the gun off the stairs, and bring it to a trunk that was stuffed full of weapons. Many your boyfriends, but most from all the other people who tried to fuck with the clown.

You locked it up, and came to the kitchen. Going to get some bleach from under the sink.

“Aw dammit. We ran out of bleach. Art, sweetie, do we have any in the pantry?” You looked over so casually, while the man was strapped down on the marble counter top. Currently having himself become a dissected mess. Organs currently being pulled out and separated.

Art would give you a nod, before getting back to work. That work being pull the man’s heart out, and offering it to you. Had you all giggly, as you kissed his bloody cheek.

“Aren’t you sweet. I’ll clean up the stairs while you finish with dinner. Guess we don’t have to worry about a Christmas ham this year. Thanks so much for coming over! Saved us alot of stress.” You would wave at the man, as he would soon just lay there. Eyes glossy from death pulling him to wherever his soul may lay.

“My hero.” You laughed, as you kissed his cheek again. Was happily returned, before you two nuzzled your noses together. As if simply newly weds.

What a way to start the holidays.

[simpforrooster]

exactly what i was texting her.

robert 'bob' floyd x f! reader

summary: your first date with bob.

a/n: my first bob fic just for you anon! i won't lie, it was hard to tap into bob's sweetness. i wanted them to banter sooooo badly xD

phoenix has been begging you to meet her new weapon systems operator.

no. that isn't quite it.

she's been trying to set you up with him.

you don't know anything about the man other than his callsign. which is bob.

bob.

hanging around naval aviators all your life, you figured one day you'd go on a date with one of them. you just assumed he would have a cooler callsign than bob.

maybe something like snake, or the infamous maverick. a girl can dream right?

anyway.

phoenix finally wore you down, and you're waiting outside a small diner for this infamous bob.

"wow, phoenix didn't do you any justice. you're beautiful." you hear to your left. a man in navy issue glasses and sandy hair smiles, slightly awkwardly, at you.

"i'm robert, or bob," he chuckles, reaching out a hand to you.

bob was the most perfect call sign for this man.

sweetness exudes off bob immediately putting you at ease, and you praise phoenix for being so resilient in this pairing.

"phoenix has told me all about you," he tells you, a hand on the small of your back, leading you into the diner. the two of you find a place in the back corner, away from loud customers.

it doesn't escape you that phoenix hadn't told you a thing about bob, except for his name. "i want you to form your own judgment!" she'd said.

bob slide into the booth across from you and fed you another nervous smile. "i'm sorry. i'm normally not this nervous."

"it's okay, i'm pretty nervous too," you tell him, reaching across the table to lay your hand on his arm. his cheeks pinkened, and yours followed, as your hand must have done that on its own. you return your hand to lap quickly.

as the night progresses, you and bob have fallen into a comfortable rapport. the way you've fallen into step with him, and at the speed surprises you. it's not that you've been closed off entirely to dating, it was just something that you hadn't focused on too much.

now, it seems like you can't remember what it was like before you met this quirky, sweet aviator.

at some point in the evening, bob has abandoned the seat across from you, favoring sharing the seat with you. you sit, your back to the wall, fully giving your attention to him.

bob reaches for your hand, confidence having replaced the earlier apprehension. for a few moments, he plays with your hand in his while the two of you continue talking.

"for the happy couple. on the house," your waitress interrupts your story, placing a piece of apple pie and ice cream on your table. "the two of you are just too sweet."

you and bob share a secret smile. you slide a little closer to him in the booth and his hand causally falls around your shoulder. the two of you share the dessert, and soon after, your being kicked out the diner so they can close up.

standing in the cool evening air while bob pays, you pull your phone out to text phoenix.

"i hope you're telling her the date was perfect and you can't wait to see me again," he tells you over your shoulder. when you turn your head, his mouth is right there. he drops his gaze to your mouth, silently asking if it's okay to kiss you. you answer him by closing the gap between the two of you.

his hands fall to your waist, and he spins your body around to pull you into him.

"as a matter of fact, that is exactly what i was texting her."

masterlist.