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teamfortresstwo · 4 months ago
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God damn it I hate when a cliff hanger fic dramatically alters my brain chemistry . At least if it was finished I could wrap a bow around it and be done with the ordeal but nooooooo now I have to think about the millions of different ways it COULD have ended .
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lovebugism · 8 months ago
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hi bug! Can I request you a ditzy or shy!reader where some girl flirts with Steve in front of her maybe at Family Video? Little angsty because she feels insicure of herself? Thank you🩷
ty for requesting!! — steve doesn't realize he's being flirted with because he's so in love with you (ditzy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, 1.6k)
You color in a scribbled heart with enough vigor to break the pink crayon in your hand.
Steve always hangs your drawings in his locker in the Family Video break room, so you tend to take your art pretty seriously. ‘Cause there’s absolutely nothing humorous about the two stick figures holding hands — each of them vaguely resembling the both of you — that you’re passionately scribbling behind the front counter.
He’d watch you work your magic on a piece of lined scrap paper if he could. He’s too busy tending to a regular now. Mia, he thinks, or maybe Maia. She rents movies every week, but according to the system, she doesn’t watch a single one of them. 
“Well, what do you recommend?” she questions with a smirk on her painted lips, leaning her elbows on the counter until her chest juts out.
Steve leans slowly backward and tries not to cough at the overwhelming scent of her fruity perfume. “Uh… I don’t know,” he answers with an unenthusiastic shrug. “I usually just watch whatever.”
The girl squints her dolled-up eyes. “You don’t have a favorite movie?” 
Steve ponders the question for a moment. ‘Cause he doesn’t have one, really. All his favorite films are your favorites because he spends the majority of movie nights watching you instead.
So, at a loss of how to answer, he tells her your first choice. “The Star Wars movies are pretty alright.”
“Do you have them here?” she wonders.
Steve nods and points her in the other direction. “Yeah. In the Sci-Fi section.”
“Can you show me?” the girl questions with a hopeful glint in her pale eyes. Everything about her sparkles with mischief, like a predator hunting for prey. Stealthy, like a ninja, Steve would’ve called the approach a couple years ago. Long before he found you.
He’s more into forthright proclamations of love these days — bubblegum pink lipstick stains pressed to his cheek and handmade pictures drawn in crayon.
But, for the sake of Keith totally reaming him for not helping a customer, Steve nods and rounds the front counter. “Uh. Yeah. Sure. Follow me,” he urges halfheartedly, sparing you a forlorn glance as he goes. You’re much too distracted to see it, though.
You’re too distracted to notice most things, really.
That’s why Robin’s angrier than you are about the whole thing. She exhales a big huff and stands across from you, peering over the tower of tapes there. “God, he’s so oblivious,” she groans.
Your hand freezes as you color in Steve’s vest. You glance up at her with wide eyes, heart sinking at the annoyed look on her freckled features. “Huh?”
“Steve. That girl’s been drooling over him for five minutes, and he hasn’t even realized.”
Your brows pinch. “What girl?”
“The one that’s hanging all over him,” Robin answers, nodding her head to the other side of the store. The girl in question lingers at Steve’s side, a little too close to be casual. She hangs on every word he says — which certainly can’t be a whole lot, considering he knows next to nothing about that Star Wars franchise.
“I thought she was just being nice,” you shrug.
“She was flirting with your boyfriend,” Robin corrects in a monotone. “It was disgusting. I’m pretty sure her flirt got all over my pants.”
You look back at the two across the room. Steve tenses when the pretty redhead presses her chest against his arm. For the sake of not making things totally awkward, he forces himself not to shrink away. What had seemed virtually innocuous to you now makes your stomach ache. 
“She’s so pretty…” you observe quietly to yourself. 
Robin only scoffs. “Yeah. If you’re into girls like that.”
You don’t know exactly what she means, but it makes you lean slightly forward in interest anyway. “Do you think… Do you think Steve’s into girls like that?”
“No,” Robin answers, features twisted like it’s obvious. “He’s into girls like you.”
For the first time ever, you find that slightly hard to believe. Why would Steve ever pick you over someone like her? The way she smiles is pretty. The way she laughs is pretty. Even the way she talks is pretty.
And what do you have? A couple of stupid crayon portraits?
A strange feeling sears your chest when Steve and the pretty girl walk back to the counter. He must’ve told her a joke or something ‘cause she tips back her head to laugh loudly in response. Jealous tears sting your eyes accordingly. You take your art and your box of dull crayons and scurry off to the break room.
“I can help you check out!” Robin offers, suddenly very chipper. 
The redhead’s face twists. “Oh. I thought that—”
“Steve’s needed in the breakroom, actually,” Robin tells her when the stranger’s pleading eyes flit to the boy beside her. “I can handle it from here.”
“Wait— What’s in the breakroom?” he wonders obliviously.
“Your girlfriend, dingus.”
Steve blinks once. The sudden lack of your presence makes his chest ache. He stalks off to find you without another word.
The redhead, Mia or Maia or whatever, doesn’t bother to disguise the shock painting her dainty features. “Girlfriend?” she echoes, quiet with disbelief.
Robin nods and takes the tapes from her hands, knowing she’s only renting them ‘cause she thought Steve liked them. The scanner beeps as she rings them up. “Yeah. He’s kinda in love with her, turns out. It’s disgusting.”
The conversation fades the further Steve gets down the hall. He opens the door to the back room with a grating squeak. The rusted hinges screech again in protest when he swings it shut behind him. He finds you slouched over the table, vehemently scribbling with vibrantly colored crayons.
He can’t help but smile at the sight of you. “Whatcha doin’?” he lilts in place of a greeting, sliding back a chair to sit across from you.
“Nothin’…” you mutter distantly.
Steve folds his arms over the tabletop and rests his chin on top of them. It bobs with every word. “Why’d you leave me, huh?”
You shrug with a faint I don’t know type of sound.
“Can I see what you’re drawing, at least?” 
He grins and reaches for you without thinking — because you always let him see. Needless to say, when flinch suddenly away from him, it scares him far more than it should. You scramble to cover the paper with your arms like you’re doing something wrong. 
“No,” you answer in a mousy voice.
A chuckle spills from Steve’s mouth. “What? Why? You always show me.”
“It’s stupid…”
“It’s not stupid! I love when you draw stuff for me,” the boy insists with a lopsided smile, distantly surprised by your sheepishness. The pretty pink grin slips from his mouth at the crestfallen glint in your eye. He softens without thinking. “What’s wrong? What happened? Did— Did Robin say something?”
“No.” 
“Then what?”
You avert your eyes from his prying ones, feeling half-suffocated beneath his honeyed gaze. You start to color again with an absentminded hand, if only to have something else to look at. “You’re just…” you trail off, shifting uncomfortably in your chair. “You’re too pretty.”
He laughs before he means to. “What?”
“You’re pretty, and I don’t like that other people get to look at you,” you confess quietly, coloring in Steve’s hair with the ‘deep golden’ crayon. “It’s not fair— No one else should think you’re as beautiful as I do. I don’t like that.”
Steve props his chin on his palm and hides his grin behind his fingers. He reaches for your busy hand with his free one to get your attention. “Well, you know what?” he starts when your eyes flit up to his. “You’re the only one I want looking at me. So what everyone else thinks doesn’t really matter.”
“It is when they’re drooling all over you,” you answer with a scrunched nose.
Steve can’t help but scoff out a laugh. Those words have Robin Buckley written all over them. 
“Last I heard, Rob was giving that girl what for, so… you don’t have to worry about that anymore,��� he tells you, both to soothe the misplaced jealousy and to make you smile. He thinks it only half works. “Can I tell you a secret?”
You perk up at that. Steve grins and leans in close like he’s about to confess something serious. His dark eyes twinkle with mischief. 
“I’m so stupid in love with you that I forget other girls exist sometimes,” he murmurs in true secret-spilling fashion. “And when they’re… drooling all over me? I don’t even see it. ‘Cause all I’m thinking about is how I have my own girl back home. And that I’d much rather have her drooling on me.”
“…Am I the girl?” you press in a tiny voice, just to be sure.
“Yes, baby, I’m talking about you,” Steve chuckles. “You should know that— You’rethe one drooling on my pillow every morning.”
Your nose scrunches sheepishly. “You’ve said that word too many times… It doesn’t sound real anymore.”
“What’s that called again?”
“Semantic satiation,” you answer without missing a beat.
“Well, now I’m gonna tell you I love you ’til you’re semantically satiated,” the boy teases with a knowing squint in his eyes. “‘Cause I love you.”
“Steve.”
“I love you.”
“Stop,” you say, sterner now, though your gaze still glimmers with something soft. Your eyes follow his form when he rises from the table, shifting the short distance to sit in the chair closest to you. “Steve, stop—”
“I love you,” he repeats, anyway, taking you into his arms and smacking a dramatic kiss to your warm cheek. Between each innocuous peck, he mumbles, “I love you— I love you— I love you—”
Steve doesn’t stop kissing you until he hears you giggling again. The pretty sound brightens the dull breakroom. And all he can think about is what a lucky schmuck he is. To get to kiss you and make you laugh forever.
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pedgito · 10 days ago
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𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄 | Joel Miller x reader — Series Masterlist (part ii)
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↝ masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi
summary | The temptation with Joel is unavoidable, one consequential choice leading to several, but with time, you find that healing is easier with someone just as broken as you.
author's note | I DID NOT FORGET THEM I SWEAR. i know the first part was posted in july and i abandoned my baby i'm horrible. BUT, the writing bug is back in full force and this chapter was already halfway done so PLEASE ENJOY. i missed these two dearly.
content warning | 18+ smut, DDDNE - this is very loosely stepcest, so if that's not your thing, ignore. that's the only warning i'm giving on that, additional warnings: no outbreak, step-uncle!joel, age gap (20/late 40s), religious trauma, parental trauma, no one's making good choices here, lowkey religion kink?? if you get it, you get. fingering, unprotected piv sex, semi-public sex, mentions of deconstruction, alcohol tw, this is packed with so much stuff i'm sorry
word count —11k
PART ONE, PART THREE (tbd)
The tweed sweater is more grating than the sound of your mother’s voice as you approach the doorstep of the Miller’s home. It’s fucking itchy, scratching at your neck in desperation to strip yourself of your more modest church clothes the moment you crosses the threshold. Your mother seems to notice your fidgeting, swatting at your hand with a look of unmistaken warning.
Cut it out. 
Your hand drops to your side, fingers curling into your palm as they dig into the skin. The pain squeezes at your vocal cords, keeping you quiet. Tommy always looks slightly ridiculous when you step out for church on Sundays—starched jeans and perfectly ironed plaid button up to match, paired with an egregious belt buckle and cowboy boots. 
The thing was though, he fit in perfectly. And you couldn’t hate Tommy, it was nearly impossible.
Once inside, you’re already beelining for the attic with your shoes slipped off by the door and ready to strip down the layers of clothes to quell the sticky heat that was lingering on your skin. But, there’s a creak to your left and a voice you hadn’t heard since the night before, under…more nefarious pretenses. But, he didn’t know that. You shouldn’t either.
Your eyes can’t meet his own as he rounds the corner, damp hair dripping droplets of water onto his clothed shoulders. He doesn’t speak to you, but he does look you over. There’s a smugness in his expression, amusement at your outfit like he knows. A perfect, modest length appropriate dress with that ugly fucking sweater your mom insisted on you wearing. You hate it, it was smeared all over your face, lips pulled into a tight line as your mother began barraging both of the brothers at once.
“She’ll come with,” You attention focuses back on the conversation halfway through, sneaking a small peak at Joel’s tired features, scratching at his beard with his other hand settled against his hips, so desperately wanting to escape the conversation, “I don’t need her being a nuisance while Joel’s trying to sleep.”
“She lives here,” Tommy points out, “I’m sure she can keep quiet. Do you wanna tag along?”
“No,” you respond with evident distaste, but there was also the creeping worry of being alone with Joel again, unsure how to approach your unfavorable behavior with him, “I’d really rather not, if that’s okay.”
Tommy offers a shrug to your mother, reminiscent of a told you so, before he’s cracking a joke at Joel’s expense, who still hadn’t spoken a word.
“Keep this loner some company anyways, he needs it,” Tommy jests.
“Well, we’ll be out until the evening,” your mother adds, almost like it was a bad thing which wasn’t nearly the case, in fact—it was a heavy weight off your chest, “so call if you need anything and sweetheart, mind your manners.”
“She’ll be alright,” Joel interjects suddenly, “ain’t never caused any problems with me.”
Your mother nods despite her inclination to make a comment or prove a point and after a tense goodbye and a hug that was far too tight, she’s dragging Tommy out the front door again and it shuts with a deafening click as Joel still remained in his previous position, eying the floor for a time before his eye meet your own as yank at the buttons of your sweater and shrug it off your shoulders.
The events over the past few weeks were clawing at your gut, that nervous and fluttering feeling driving you to silence—girl, always testin’ me—it was a constant echo in your head. That, flurried with his grunts and the sight of his hand gripping his cock. And your teasing words were no better, inviting him in and welcoming the temptation.
You had to cut the cord—this wasn’t you. It was wrong, sinful, the shame sitting on your tongue and bitter to swallow. It didn’t matter that it didn’t feel wrong, factually, it was. You would be shamed, frowned upon, rejected by your own mother if she even caught a whiff of your advances toward Joel. But, he’d lied for you when he didn’t have to and that was more confusing than it needed to be. 
Joel clears his throat, “I’m gonna head to bed, worked a fifteen hour shift and I’m barely standin’ right now,” Your gaze flicks up as you kneel on the couch, settling into the cushion but leaning yourself slightly over the arm, “you gonna be alright?”
You nod silently and watch as he returns the motion and turns on his heels, the floorboards creaking under the weight and there was no chance like now—say it, just apologize.
“Joel,” you say louder than needed, but it does the trick, “I—you lied for me to my mother, you didn’t have to and I’m…sorry for the way I’ve been acting. I know that doesn’t change anything, but I—”
There’s a flickering of guilt across his own face that you’re familiar with, knowing he’s dreamt of you in the exact ways you’ve suggested and while he doesn’t audibly admit it, his thoughts almost project, eyes racking over your chest for a beat to long as they press together under your thin top and peek through the deep cut in your shirt.
“No harm done,” He lies, his eyes noticeable flicking back up toward your gaze and you don’t react, neither does he, “no sense in pissing her off more than she already is with you all the time, right?”
“Right,” you mumble dejectedly, chewing at the inside of your cheek as you settle into the cushion more permanently, “just…thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he replies assuredly, knowing he’d done you a favor with the expectation that it might absolve him of some of his own guilt about the entire situation—but just as Joel was being disingenuous, he suspected you were too.
Save your own ass and all that.
It didn’t matter and Joel knew it was better to move beyond it entirely.
Except his dreams are invaded with the sight of your tits, pert and perfect as he squeezed them under his grip and he swears he can feel the warmth of your skin, your smell, but the deep slumber quickly pulls him under.
-
There’s only so much to occupy your day, having made a few snacks for yourself and wandered aimlessly around Joel’s home, even managed a short nap amongst his soft snoring from his cracked bedroom door, occasionally looking around the corner or over your shoulder to find him sleeping deeply. By high noon, you’re restless. It was hot. Wicked summer heat. You decided to change into your swimsuit and head outside, grabbing a towel and a bottle of newly purchased sunscreen.
There’s a few reclining lawn chairs on Joel’s back deck luckily, snagging one as you drag it toward the lawn and into the sun, squinting at the blistering UV as you bring your sunglasses down your face and allow them to make home on the bridge of your nose. The neighbors have their sprinklers going, giving their gardens a much needed drink during the non-stop dry spell that Austin seemed to be under, the spray hits your skin gingerly as you settle into a good spot and take a seat, spreading the sunscreen out sparingly over your arms and legs, resigned to the fact that you wouldn’t be able to reach your back appropriately, but that didn’t matter. 
You untied the back of your top, both at your spine and neck and reclined the chair out completely before resting on your stomach, eyes closed to the quiet hum of afternoon summer and kids playing a few houses down, the soft buzz of dragonflies and bees amongst the foliage.
It was the simple luxuries you enjoyed that weren’t possible with your mother hovering around you, but that was why you had so much appreciation for Tommy, keeping her busy beyond her means and knowing that she was happier when occupied with other things—like him, or the possibilities and expectations that would come with their new life when they did find a place together.
You knew you weren’t going with them, but that was another mountain to climb trying to explain to your mother, knowing it wouldn’t bode well and would end in an all out brawl if you dropped it on her now—in due time, you think. 
Your tendency to fastrack through missed opportunities and experiences were your own downfall, but the newfound freedom was exhilarating, breathing in deep as you closed your eyes and relaxed, several minutes passing before you heard a creak at the backdoor. 
But even then, you don’t move.
You know it’s Joel when the grill lid whines in protest, utensils clinging behind you. 
He doesn’t say a word and forces himself to keep his eyes on the dirtied grill as he scrubs it down ignoring your occasional fidgeting and the soft creaks of the reclined chair, his eyes catching the soft skin of your back, the curve of your breasts as press out at your side, squeezed against the towel you were laying on and the strings dangling toward the grass that Joel had neglected for the past couple weeks and he’s only realizing his wandering eyes when his hand slips through the slit in the grill and drops the sponge into the ash, cursing loudly to himself.
“Was I being too loud?”
Joel tosses the sponge to the side and opens the tray to dump out the remaining remnants of  ash from their last cookout, walking toward the dumpster near the gate leading to the front yard, no further than a few yards from you as he mumbles a quiet, “No. Wasn’t you.”
Weird. Your brow furrows for a moment before you reaching for the bottle of sunscreen, taking advantage of the extra pair of hands as you offer the bottle to his empty ones, the plastic cap hitting his stomach as you press it against him, hands pressed tight over your swim top to keep your breasts covered, despite how much the material failed to hide.
“Just my back,” you explain, “I can’t reach it. Well—I can, but I’m definitely missing some spots.”
Joel’s fingers curl around the bottle but he doesn’t pull and your fingers haven’t left either, grazing against the denim at his waist and you sigh in subtle frustration. 
“Joel, it isn’t a trick,” you promise, “besides, with your hands it’ll take like, two seconds.”
He makes a face at that, halfway between amused and mortified. You shove the bottle deeper against his stomach, insistent as you raise your eyebrows.
“Oh, come on,” You beg, “It’s sunscreen, get over it.”
There it was. The snark you couldn’t hide, like second nature with him. He snatches the bottle with his tongue slipping under his top lip as he snaked it over his teeth and popped the cap with his thumb, flashing a content smile in his direction as you settle back on your stomach, pushing down at the strings of your bottoms slightly to offer the full expanse of your back.
Joel, poor Joel, swallows around the lump in his throat and tries indefinitely to ignore the everlasting bulge that grew in your presence, a side effect of inappropriate thoughts and your sharp tongue. He’s pathetic and he knows it. 
He kneels down between your split legs, one knee on the cheap plastic and his other foot planted firmly in the grass as he hovers. It was as close as he could allow himself, a few inches forward and he would have his thigh pressed against your center, the swell of your pussy grinding against his jeans and he wouldn’t be able to resist, pulling at the loose ties and diving into the sweet divine. 
You clear your throat, turning your cheek to rest against the back of your palm as you wait with the cold tip of your cross necklace snug between your lips, a self-satisfied smile growing on your face as the warmth of his hand contrasts the cool sunscreen, a broad stripe up your back from tailbone to neck as his fingers fold over your shoulder and drag against the chain before he’s tossing the bottle into the grass to make use of his other hand, spreading the sunscreen out evenly on the full expanse of your back.
A pseudo massage masked in the way his thumbs rub along the center of your skin, fingers rubbing in the sunscreen along your side, just along the curve of your hips before they’re back up at your shoulders and the muscle is being squeezed gently under his grip.
“You’re tense, kid,” Joel notes, pulling away to wipe his cream covered hands on the towel, catching your gaze.
“With a mother like mine, wouldn’t you be?”
Joel pauses briefly, a silent acknowledgment as he stands, vehemently ignoring the way your legs slip together and your ass pushes up into the air slightly as you reposition yourself.
He grimaces at how sticky his hands feel still, reaching for the spout on the siding and gripping the hose in his hand as the water pours out, hot for a moment as it slips out before it rushes out ice cool, wetting his hands generously.
“Can’t stand getting a little messy, can you?” You tease when you hear the water run behind you, lifting up on your forearm to peer at the older man, his face still frozen in a tight grimace but his eyes briefly turning up toward you.
What a little shit. 
His thumb slides over the opening on the hose and transforms the flow into a forceful spray as he lifts stream and at the chair you were lounging in, forcing you up in a matter of seconds while Joel rendered you drenched, top forgotten as you slip your arm over your breasts in attempt to retain some decency.
The cause of action only dawns on Joel in the aftermath, watching you sopping wet as you stomp toward him and attempt to yank the hose from his grip, the option for turning the spout off forgotten—it couldn’t be that simple.
Joel quickly extends the main end of the hose from your grip with a tug of a smirk and you huff, hard through your nose as you twist and press your back against his chest as you wrestle for his arm, in a wrestle for the hose his arm finds home against your chest and you gradually fall to your knees, tackled by Joel in a manner that is surprisingly gentle despite your frustration.
But, somehow you end up chest to chest and none of the effort is worth it, even as you turn the house on him and the water soaks his clothes and your chest, hose slapping into the grass as you toss it aside, breath catching as your heart raced from the exertion.
Joel makes the mistake of shifting to move, his knees hiking behind the curve of your ass and pushing his clothed cock against your core, only separated by a couple layers of clothes, his denim against your think bikini tied lazily at your waist and his eyes drag down by pure coincidence as he tries to find his grip against the grassy surface.
There it was—his eyes on your chest, your eyes on him, and his cock hard against your cunt in an unignorable way. 
Joel quickly scrambles to his feet with a frustrated clear of his throat, ignoring you like a quick spreading plaque as he left his tasks behind to disappear as quickly as he had resurfaced and you reach blindly for your top, draping it over your chest hastily as you tried and failed to piece together what the hell had just transpired. 
It was like a shot of adrenaline in your bloodstream as you sat up, the world spinning in a way that made you woozy—you turned toward the back door, slightly ajar from the force Joel used to shut it, slamming against the frame before it popped back open.
He could deny you all he wanted, but his body couldn’t lie—wondering if he was running off to finish himself like he had the night before, almost daring to chase after him.
But instead, you hide.
Decisive and calculated, you’d wait him out.
Like meek prey, he’d seek you out if the hunger struck. 
After a swift shower you barricade yourself upstairs, the murmuring voices below lulling you to sleep as you skip dinner—you couldn’t speak to Joel, wouldn’t. 
He lies for you, despite knowing that your avoidance of dinner was entirely his own fault.
Sort of.
It was a double-edged sword, both parties responsible.
 But, Joel feels the guilt faster, easier, and he drowns it away in a six pack of beers Tommy brings home as he and his brother, and his soon-to-be sister in law enjoyed a quiet dinner, the occasional complaint slipping from your mother’s lips as she ate.
“She wasn’t feeling too good,” Joel fibs, wiping at his mouth with a napkin, crumbling the flimsy material in his fist, “I can bring her a plate up later, after I clean up—”
“Oh, please,” She holds her hand up to interrupt, politely refusing, “we’ll clean up, won’t we?”
Tommy squints, eyeing the table full of dirtied dishes but nods regardless. 
Always the yes man. Joel smirks, a flippant chuckle under his breath.
Joel tips back the final bottle of beer and swallows it down, having learned to manage his alcohol well after years of casual drinking that had slowly morphed into a crutch. He gets the buzz, the warm and fuzzy feeling in his chest but otherwise it was undetectable, aside from the hasty decision making to find a reason to bother you after the wrestling match that afternoon. 
He quietly piled the food onto a plate, working around the kitchen and squeezing past the other two bodies before he’s yanking at the cord to the attic stairs, your body lunging up at the sound, nearly jumping out of your own skin as the light peeks through and the hard, heavy footsteps follow.
Joel hears the both of them, Tommy and your mother, as they finish up in the kitchen and trail off into their own respective room in the house, pulling at the handle with his unoccupied hand to seal out the creeping light from downstairs. He slides the plate of food on the dresser shoved against the nearest wall before his head is turning toward you, watching as you rubbed at your eyes, faking the grogginess from a deep sleep you never managed to fall into, running both hands through the front of your hair before they’re flattening out against your duvet, wondering which one of you should speak first.
Both hands shoved into his front pockets, he turns to you fully. He’s changed from earlier, denim traded for a soft cloth; sweats, paired with his usual dark washed shirt.
Relaxed. He looks…relaxed. His eyes are undeniably softer, too. His lips rubbing together tight before his tongue slips out to wet them and he’s still standing, waiting—for what, you’re not sure.
“I’ll eat it later,” you appease his lingering presence, taken aback as the words seem to bring him back to life, socked feet soft against the wood floors but the intent is heavy and intimidating, “I will, I promise—“
You weren’t lying, you would. 
But, then the bed creaks as he takes a seat and your legs widen to make room for him, the blanket slipping down your thighs and revealing bare legs under a long t-shirt, having changed out of your damp clothes too. 
Closer, you can see the flush in his chest. Cheeks warm and hot, you’re sure if you touched him it would be confirmed. Drunk? It didn’t seem likely, but he had definitely been drinking, a deep but quiet sigh coming from his chest before he spoke.
“Don’t apologize,” you began before he could get the words out, “god—don’t, just…”
“I was gonna ask if you’re feelin’ alright,” Joel begins, turning toward you hesitantly, a fist curled and stamped into the mattress, watching the muscle of his bicep and forearm flex with the action, core clenching at the sight of it.
You nod lazily, “How was dinner?”
He knows you’re not asking about the food.
“Typical,” He responds lightly, “your mom loves carryin’ the conversation, doesn’t she?”
“She just enjoys the sound of her own voice.”
Joel chuckles quietly, hand unfurling and his fingers grazing against your knee. For a moment, you think it could be an accident, but as you find a surge of confidence and drag your fingers over his own, pulling his hand up to your face curiously, making a show to smell his hand with a light quip thrown his way.
“Got all the sunscreen off finally,” You joke and the stretched out glimpse of you flashes through Joel’s mind, his fingers pulling at tied strings, the nylon falling against thick blades of grass, “did you enjoy your shower?”
Joel quirks his brow, curious.
Right, he didn’t know. A momentary lapse of judgment letting the words slip.
“You know, was it…peaceful? Nice?” 
No additional expletives groaned out under the steady stream, fist wrapped around his cock? Selfishly your eyes wandered toward the no longer tented material, having caught quite the eyeful earlier—and felt it just the same.
His hand slowly drops to the bedsheet, thumb grazing the cream material while the rest of his fingers curl over your knee, your own hand placed atop it, an unspoken but welcomed touch.
He was losing his mind, surely.
He shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t have sat down. 
But, Joel lied for you and that was the first mistake.
“I lied for you, again,” He comes clean, emphasis on his final word as his eye flicks up despite his downturned gaze, watching your thumb rub into the spot between his own and pointer finger, “makin’ habit of it, it seems.”
A soft breath mingles between the space, tight and tense, too intimidated to confront him head on now, shaking your head at his words, “You were the one who said my secret was safe, remember?”
His large hand flexes around yours as he presses the back of your hand into the sheets, held prison under his grip, “You know I never meant it like that—“
“Didn’t you?” You counter, turning your eyes up toward him cautiously, daring him to confess.
Our secret, alright?
It was the gateway—one small lie unfolding into many and soon it would be like breathing, second nature. 
“Why are you still here?” There’s a softness in your tone that beckons a confession, but Joel’s hard-headed. 
So, he retaliates.
“Why haven’t you asked me to leave?” His eyebrows raise, a subtle smile pulling at his lips that was brought up by the inhibitions of alcohol, mostly Joel but there was something lingering.
The words float through your head, climb up your throat, but you can’t force them to leave your mouth, eyes softening under his gaze as a warm, careful hand caresses up your thigh, fingertips grazing your clothed cunt, the wet heat undeniable as it seeps through your underwear.
You can smell the beer on his breath but it doesn’t stop your hand from clawing up his chest and behind his neck, allowing him to pull your leg over his lap, spread wide on your bed as he fit between them, “You’ve been drinking,” it was obvious, but Joel shakes his head, tongue licking at his bottom lip as his left hand squeezes at your calf, “haven’t you?”
“That bother you?” He wonders—he’s mostly unaffected, you can tell. The creeping flush to his face a mix of the alcohol and you, he’s just as in his right mind as you, the inside of his palm reaching further to cup your cunt, rubbing gently with the heel of his palm.
A breathy sigh and a head shake in return as your legs spread wider, hips canting into his touch as your hand falls to your side, exposing your clothed chest to him, breasts peeking through the sheer fabric of your top while your other hand grips Joel’s neck harder, blunt fingernails digging into the skin.
“What are you doing?” You ask carefully, not wanting to startle him. 
It doesn’t even seem to phase him, though. His hand moves forward slightly to push your shirt up your stomach before it slipped beyond the fabric of your underwear and against your bare skin, two fingers sliding between your folds to press into your sticky slick.
“Giving you what you want,” Like it was obvious; the constant taunting, ill-mannered behavior, his own resolve finally breaking and the guilt he was feeling disappearing in an instant now that he has you like this, a clandestine sight, “—s’what you wanted, right?”
You nod, a subtle jerk of your head.
At the notion, his hands are in two different directions—one hand is tracing the chain that wore like armor, a dainty necklace your mother had gifted you when you were young that was the only significance you had to show for with her, your undying faith. He slips the necklace around and between your shoulder blades, out of sight. His other hand slips between your thighs until they’re finding home against your cunt. Absent fingers drifting deeper between your shoulder blades, delicate touches tracing along your spine over soft skin until he’s back at the nape of your neck and squeezing, determined fingers rubbing slowly at your sensitive clit, a stuttered and quiet gasp falling from your lips.
He’s not the first man to touch you like this, but he was skilled. No fumbling hands and hesitant touches, there was surety in his movements and his gaze that didn’t shy from yours in embarrassment or lack of care.
Joel Miller was in the mood to watch you fall apart for his own entertainment.
“Shh,” He reminds you, a soft command, “don’t need them gettin’ curious.”
You shake your head in agreement, a plethora of sins being committed in the act of one greedy and selfish desire, “Mo—More,” You plead, feeling his fingers slide down the center of your cunt before they’re breaching your tight hole and pressing inside. Joel grunts as you pull at his short curls, his tongue resting wanting over his bottom teeth, yearning for a taste.
“Take it off,” He demands, “wanna see those pretty tits, darlin’.”
Your skin prickles with anticipation, separating from him briefly to pull your shirt over your head and Joel, in a moment of blind lust, takes the advantage of you on your back to yank your panties down your ankles and balling them up, thrown haphazardly near the top of your bed as he settles on his knees between your outstretched legs—
God, he’s going to hell.
And you want to kiss him, the feeling so strong it sends an ache down your core, releasing a shaky breath as he squeezes at your thighs before his fingers continue, dipping inside of you with ease. Luckily, with this position, he’s got a free hand to rub at your clit, thumb pressed firmly against the nub and drawing soft, mewling sounds from your lips. 
It’s intoxicating, the subtle smell of barley and fresh soap. He’s speaking to you in some far off, distant place, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he sets an inescapable pace. They’re goading words, encouraging and bordering the line of patronizing but you can’t commit them to memory, only coming as another soft command falls from his lips.
Because he sees your fingers itching, needy, “Touch yourself,” He murmurs, his touch somehow more tender as his fingers pump inside of you, thumb working quick circles of your clit as you hands drag feather-light of your breasts, a tickle at the center of your chest before you’re squeezing the flesh under your grip and moaning louder as he changes the angle of his fingers inside of you, deep and undeniably precise. Thick fingers keep you full and satisfied.
He can hear your breath quickening, a silent warning when your brain wasn’t catching up with the rest of your body, words a complete loss. His fingers slip out of you, wet slick smearing over your mouth as he leans forward to muffle the unintentional cry that falls from your lips as he pulls you over the edge with a mere motion of his thumb, your eyes squeezing shut as you come.
The pleasure blooms inside, teeth digging gently into the skin of his palm as you selfishly savor the feeling, Joel only moving away when your eyes fall back on him—back to reality.
“How’s that for a mess?” Joel doesn’t miss a beat, turning your earlier jab back on you as you notice the gleam on his fingers, thin strings of slick hang between his fingers as he separates them and you pull at his wrist, knowing that Joel would follow through the rest of the way, pressing his fingers to your lips as you clean him, tongue dragging along the digits diligently.
You swear you hear Joel groan, but it was muffled by your own squeak as Joel grabbed at your chin, flesh pinched between his fingers, “Eat your damn dinner,” He demands, but you quickly muffle him with the fabric of your underwear, shoving it into his mouth before you move dangerously close to his face, still under the stern grip of his hand.
“No problem,” You appease him, “and a suggestion—”
Pulling the fabric from his mouth, you aren’t amiss as he pockets it, his eyebrows raising in question.
“Double check your doors next time you decide to jerk off to me.”
Because if anything, you wanted him to be more deliberate.
Joel’s flush deepens, shame flashing in his eyes for a brief moment before you break out into a playful smile as you sing softly, “Goodnight, Joel.”
Joel’s never had a harder time falling asleep, night creeping into dawn before the slumber finally takes him, riddled with a guilt that is indescribable. 
Breakfast is quiet.
Too quiet.
You pick lazily at the fresh blueberry muffins your mother had baked that morning, watching as Tommy conversed with Joel across the living room, both of them nursing steaming cups of coffee. Your mother notices your trailing gaze, mistaking it for you spacing out as she perks up, speaking from beside you as she pours more orange juice into your empty glass.
“I was thinking we could do something in town today,” She begins, “all of us—Joel, too. Tommy mentioned they’ve got a fair going on downtown—food, music, plenty to keep you interested.”
You slip the blueberry beyond your lips and chomp down, “What’s the occasion? Big news? Don’t tell me your pregnant—”
Your name comes out as a stark warning, the plastic bottle of orange juice crunching under her grip, “That is not—no, I’m not. But, Tommy and I…may have put an offer down on a house, if you’re that curious. We were gonna drive by on the way there and show it to you.”
You shake your head nonchalantly, “Joel was actually going to take me to that cowboy museum a couple towns over—I forgot to ask, but you don’t care, right?”
Joel perks up at the mention of his name, his conversation with Tommy stalling.
“I mean, I’ll be with Joel,” You remind her, “I’ll be safe, won’t I?”
Your head turns over your shoulder, catching Joel’s surprised expression and watching as it slowly morphs into understanding, silently following the path you had so carefully constructed as he approaches the counter at your side, pressing his mug into the counter.
“I shoulda mentioned it,” He lies through his teeth, “slipped my mind, but it’s alright with you?”
She swallows. Tense. 
Tommy interjects then and chuckles, clapping a hand over his brother’s shoulder.
“History of cowboys?” He asks, “Oh come on, sweetheart. Let ‘em go, they can always meet up with us after.”
She folds for Tommy, of course. Flashing an apprehensive smile that you knew too well, eyes flitting toward the pair of brother’s with a cynical regard, catching Joel’s tight expression for a brief moment. You had lied, big deal.
 It wasn’t the worst thing you’ve done as of late, watching the leisurely swagger of Joel’s walk as he steps toward the coffee pot, offering a sturdy goodbye over his shoulder as the lovebirds make their escape, leaving you both under the thick cloud of unspoken tension.
With disregard, he walks past you and sips noisily at his coffee, taking a seat on the couch with the low hum of the morning news as your sock covered feet pat softly against the floor. Your thigh presses against the arm hanging over the couch as you squeeze by, but you’re stopped by Joel’s foot pressing into the coffee table, blocking your path.
“You make plans for somethin’ I’m unaware of?” 
You huff out a soft laugh through your nose before you shove at his foot gently, knocking it to the ground before you’re climbing over his lap, mug screeching against the table as Joel scrambles to place it down, his hands falling against your hips instinctively as you settle over him, tight shorts crawling up your thighs and settling in the crease of your hips.
His touch is intimate—and warm, god his hands were always so warm. Your fingers scratch testingly at his patchy facial hair, a delicate touch that extends to his mused morning hair, untouched and still riddled with sleep. Then he’s inhaling hard as your lips press to his without preamble, his mouth opening in a quiet sigh and your tongue find the opportunity and slips beyond his lips, dragging over his teeth as it swipes against his own tongue and for a few minutes he melts into you, returning the kiss back feverishly.
But, like a fragile tower—the moment snaps and collapses in on itself as Joel shoves you away, a large hand pressed against your collarbone as you yelp at the sudden movement, slightly disappointed as you frown.
“Stop,” he breaths out harsh, his hand fisting in your shirt as he peers up you through a half-lidded gaze, “you—we can’t keep doin’ this, kid.”
“No one’s here,” you murmur, pushing at his hand but it doesn’t budge, so you settle for his thighs, cotton material smooth to the touch as you fingers climb until they can settle near his groin, rubbing your clothed cunt against his hardened cock, a noticeable tent in his pants, “if you worried about getting caught.”
“I know you’re doing this to get back at your mother,” Joel begins, but he never gets the chance to finish.
“And if I was doing this for me?” You counter, “Because I want to? What would you say then?”
There’s a long beat of silence, Joel’s hands pressing into your hips again to keep you still, frozen in place and unable to chase the pleasure you were so desperately after.
“Naive,” He offers, “childish—downright stupid, if you think about it. I’m twice your age and if the other reason wasn’t obvious, well—“
“We’re not blood related,” you argue, “it isn’t nearly the same thing and you know it.”
You lean forward, crowding into his space once more, the ghost of his breath across your lips as he eyes follow, his head leaning back as you move in, hesitant. 
“Besides, I think you’ve ruined all other men for me,” You goad, a salacious grin spreading across your face, “your fingers—Joel, they’re—“
At a loss for words, you sigh, hips dropping against his groin pointedly, he grunts and you can see the hard line of his jaw as he clenches his teeth.
“I’m not the one, darlin’. You can’t compare me to them—I’m old, I’ve lived. Don’t think you gotta settle for me.”
Joel has sequestered himself to loneliness—after his separation from his wife, the loss of his daughter, he was content being alone. Living alone. Dying alone. 
Drowned out by bad decisions and alcohol, he’s found himself regretting his choices once again, but not for the reasons he had hoped.
He didn’t regret you—his actions with you, but how the repercussions would affect you if your mother found out, his brother. There was no coming back, no explanation that could justify his actions.
But you’re sitting, pouting in his lap as your finger twirls around the string of his sleep pants and he knows that look—more, give me more.
Nothing would satiate that hunger.
“I’m not a virgin, you know,” you add as if it may magically heal things, but the next words out of your mouth have Joel squeezing at the flesh of your hips, words that make his cock pulse under his clothes, “I think you enjoy corrupting me, too. My mom put me on birth control the second she was able, afraid I’d turn out like her.”
Luckily, you hadn’t. She’d never let you live that down.
You press in further, a hand climbing up to press against the column of Joel’s throat, lips sliding against his as you whisper, “Do you wanna ruin me, Joel?”
All you get in response is a growl, deep and intense as he surges forward, kissing you soundly to shut you up.
It was a weight off your chest, a sharp breath as he slips his tongue into your mouth as you part your lips as his fingers pull at the base of your scalp, a sharp sting of pain drowned out by pleasure.
“Upstairs,” he ordered, mouth down your neck hungrily, “in your room, now.”
The heated, dark look in his eyes tells you that you weren’t going alone, his footsteps trailing behind you.
-
He splits you open with his thighs, already bare underneath him as he’s stripped himself of everything but his pants, sans his underwear he definitely wasn’t wearing, an unreadable expression on his face. Pinched, his brow furrowed as he lingered around you, hands pressing into the mattress but not you, careful that his hands didn’t stray too far again.
“Should I say my morning prayers?” You tease, your pointer finger trailing down the center of his chest, both of your eyes following the digit until it hooks into the waistband of his underwear, “Absolve you of some guilt?”
“It ain’t guilt,” Joel retorts, dark eyes flicking up toward you, “you really think all that prayin’ actually works?”
You shrug, “I dunno what I think anymore—what do you believe in, Joel?”
Joel chuckles lowly, ignoring your hand as it slips beyond the material to touch him, his cock heavy in your hands, feeling the surreality of the moment hit you all at once as his hips keen into the touch, a subtle gesture as his fists settle into the space beside your head.
“Ain’t never believe in nothing,” He responds quieter, “easier that way.”
You hum softly, nodding absently to his response as you force the final piece of clothing down his hips, his eyes never really leaving you—wandering, maybe, but you have his full attention.
“Come on, Joel,” You squander, giving his cock a light squeeze before your hand trails up his chest, fingers forming to the lines of his jaw as your fingers glide over his scruff, “Easier?”
“You’re brainwashed,” He admits, pausing to slip his hand between your bodies and drifting over your cunt before he slips two fingers inside of you without warning, a gasp ripping from your throat but quickly settling as his fingers work inside of you meticulously, dragging with gentle pressure against your walls, “can’t think for yourself without feelin’ guilt, can you?”
He’s making a mockery of the beliefs you’ve been under for years—you get it, you do. But, it seems to strike a nerve when you dig deeper, unsure why, amongst your building pleasure the taunting scripture slips from your lips in an attempt to rile him further.
“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just—” Your voice wavers as Joel’s attention snaps to your soft words, eyes locked on his unreadable expression, “ and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousn—”
A tight squeeze at the cross around your neck does him in.
A familiar sound slips beyond his lips, a hungry and deep set growl as he breaks from you, manhandling you with force onto your stomach and in an attempt to muffle your antics and silence you, a hand pressed against the back of your neck, face pressed into the soft fluff of your pillow as his voice rumbles behind you.
“Ain’t gonna listen to that shit,” Joel gripes, his free hand binding to your waist as he lifts your hips up, back arched and ass up, breathing out a soft noise of protest as he squeezes at your skin, “—you done?”
You shake your head weakly, a small laugh bubbling from your chest as the full expanse of his hand slides over your cheek, pressing your face deeper into the pillow, his thumb tracing along the corner of your mouth.
“There’s no savin’ yourself from this, sweetheart,” Joel acknowledges, a vague but somehow crystal clear way of checking in, assuring there was consent to follow through—that you wanted this.
“I know,” You mumble around the finger that glides over your lip, a calloused thumb against soft, fleshy lips.
Joel presses inside of you with a low groan, mixed with a tight hiss as you clench around him instinctively, your eyes drifting shut as his cock fits inside your tight walls, both hands drifting to the pillow under your head and gripping tight as he begins a slow, steady snap of his hips in utter silence, forceful exhales coming from his nose as he fucks you from behind, noting the way your lips drift apart when he presses just a little too deep, the skin between your eyes scrunching up at the bridge of your nose.
His thumb presses inside of your mouth, against the inside of your cheek before pressing against your tongue, effectively silencing you, “Go on,” Joel taunts, “keep prayin’.”
Your eyes roll back as the hand gripping your waist travels over your stomach and toward your cunt, his middle finger drifting featherlight over your clit in slow circles, your grip in the weak cloth fabric growing tighter—you make an attempt, unintelligible mumbles around his thick finger, followed by a deep snicker of amusement from the man behind you, inside of you.
“Don’t try and convince me you believe that shit,” Joel tells you, “not when you’re beggin’ me to fuck you like this—’ve never been a saint, either.”
Eventually, your mind goes blank, a welcomed numbness as Joel fucks you into the mattress above a squeak boxspring in a home that didn’t belong to you, in a room that has only been yours for a short time, giving in to a forbidden temptation with a man who’s challenged every belief you’ve ever known.
He notices your attention drifting, removing his hand from your mouth, smearing the saliva over your breasts as he jostles you upright, your back pressed tight against his chest as you move against him lazily, feeling the deep, full snap of his hips as he breathes hot and heavy into your neck.
“Just this time,” He promises you, “no more teasin’, or lying—”
The preaching to you was rich, given his own actions. He must be speaking to himself, committing himself to it aloud. You nod regardless, knowing now that you’ve learned his weakness.
Because, like you, it was the unavoidable temptation.
“Another secret?” You tease, feeling the crest of your orgasm building in your gut as he squeezes at your breast, his soft groans evolving into throaty moans, a boisterous surprise to somehow who’s always so forlorn, an empty house with no reason to hide his deep and selfish need for pleasure, you giggle quietly through the force of your orgasm as you both collapse on the mattress, Joel’s hands barely catching himself to avoid the weight of his body pressing into you as he pulls out of you slowly, the bed creaking underneath the movement.
You feel candescent, shirt barely covering your body as you haphazardly drape it over yourself, watching as Joel pulled his sweatpants back up over his hips, his eyes catching on you in a way you’ve never witnessed, his come literally dripping down your thighs and he senses the shift in your expression, immediate guilt flushing your body and showing in the way your body curls in on itself, avoiding the eye contact he was offering. 
He sees it, the way your brain is programmed to feel immediate guilt, shame, and as much as he’d like to think of a way to fix it, he knows that was something you had to work through on your own.
A shower would work for now, though. 
Wash away the sin until the inevitable happens.
-
There is some normalcy that returns to your life as your classes resume, finding that time away from the Miller household was refreshing in a way. Tension with your mother was unavoidable, the wedding on the horizon and the impending truth threatening to come to light—your mother had done an excellent job as sheltering you, brainwashing you, and scaring you into behaving out of fear that you might be stuck down. 
It all seemed small and finite now, that craving to break Joel down for your own pleasure, seeing the shell of a man he was now.
And he, of course, couldn’t even follow through with his own promise to himself.
Though, as you return for the short weekends, he doesn’t always seem like…Joel.
He drinks more, itching toward the end of September soon and a couple months back at school and when you aren’t buried in the sheets of your twin bed or locked away in the darkness of his room when you’re both home alone, he reeks of alcohol and silence.
He doesn’t seem angry or upset, but the sadness is like a wave.
It makes it easier to keep your distance, something Joel acts like he wants, but then he’s seeking you out in the dark again, bourbon on his tongue and you return the messy kiss he presses to your lips, trying to silence your own thoughts by occupying yourself with him.
But, he does sense your hesitancy.
“I’ll go,” He speaks into the darkness, a hand cradling your head as he squeezes at the base of your neck, a comforting gesture despite the cloud that shrouded him, “if you want me to.”
You’ve barely seen him all day, both of the brothers overwhelmingly forlorn, but you don’t pry.
“No, no,” You insist, hushed against his mouth as you seek out his eyes, glossed over and hooded, his shoulders twitching when your fingers curl into the hair at the nape of his neck, “you just—you seem tired.”
It was a loaded word, one that Joel doesn’t touch or elaborate on. But, he was tired, physically. Taking on more shifts before the holidays approach, begging to keep himself occupied alongside his brother who was stressing for his own reasons. He’d come to you seeking a weird dichotomy of comfort and it made you feel warm inside, but a tinge of warning couldn’t be ignored.
“Just sleep here,” You suggest, “I’ll wake you early, before they’re up.”
Without protest, he nods.
You can’t explain how easily your bodies mold together on the too small mattress, like this was something you’ve done for years, staring up blankly at the ceiling as Joel snored quietly beside you.
“Hey, kiddo,” Tommy boasts from the kitchen counter as descend the stairs, making your pass through the fridge before you’re gone for another week, “school treatin’ you alright?”
“It’s fine,” You shrug noncommittally, ripping a banana from its bunch and reaching for the half empty jug of orange juice, pouring half a cup to sate your stomach, “how’s mom?”
Tommy feels the heaviness around the question, tensing as he sips at his coffee, “Stressed over the wedding, all the planning, ya know—“
“Yeah,” It’s lazy and short, but Tommy knows your relationship with her is less than favorable lately, sensing your desire for freedom and answers, truth rather than careful lies your mother has constructed around you for your safety, “uh, can I ask a question, actually?”
Tommy nods, hearing the faint creaking of the floorboard somewhere distant in the house. 
“Is…Joel okay?” 
Tommy seems surprised, but he masks it quickly.
“Oh, he…usually gets…worse around the anniversary of Sarah’s death,” Your eyes wander, clearly missing crucial information but your eyes drift toward the closed bedroom door that was vehemently off limits, always wondering but never questioning, “shit—we ain’t mentioned her to you?”
You shake your head.
“She died about five years ago, raisin’ her alone had always been tough on Joel but her dying…it’s been hard.”
“His daughter?”
He had a daughter.
I’m old, I’ve lived, the words echoing in your head.
“He…never mentioned her, you’ve never…”
“He won’t,” Tommy tells you, “can’t even bring her up to him most days—I thought I’d mentioned it to you but it must’ve slipped my mind, I’m sorry, kiddo.”
“No, don’t…don’t apologize.” You assure him, taking a sip of the tart juice and peeling slowly at the peel of your banana, “I guess that explains the bottles on the table when I come home every weekend.”
And the alcohol on his breath when he kisses you.
Tommy notes the way you so easily call the house home now, smiling slightly. But, he’s always been aware of his brother’s…problem, not sure how to help or fix the situation without an implosion happening.
In the distance, you can hear your mother calling out for Tommy, his eyes drifting toward the sound.
“Have a good week,” He pressed a gentle kiss at the crown of your head, squeezing at your shoulder before leaning over to speak under his breath, “—you should talk to your mom before you plan on taking that offer, by the way.”
Your attention perks up, his finger drifting toward the envelope hidden under a stack of placemats on the kitchen table before he’s interrupted by another shout from your mother, “I can handle the fallout for you, kiddo. Don’t worry.”
Tommy retreats and eventually, you do too. Snatching the letter up and stowing it away in your bag, you aren’t able read through it until later that night, Joel’s unsaved number lingering on the phone screen in your missed calls.
It was an internship at your dream job in Dallas, a flat rate pay out with six months of lodging covered while you got on your feet—but more importantly it was an escape. 
You should be upset at Tommy for prying, opening the letter before you had a chance to peek at it yourself, but he’s sensed the tension for months. He loved your mother, but he cared for you, even in the tumultuous months he’s been around you both. 
You were strong, independent, and far better off blossoming on your own without the hard grip of your mother and her undying but fickle faith. 
The second call from Joel startles you back to reality, answering with a shaky finger.
“Didn’t say goodbye this morning,” Joel greets, only sounding slightly bitter.
You’re quiet for longer than Joel is comfortable with and he almost speaks again, apologizes, but you cut him off.
“Sorry…my mom, it seemed like she was already on her reign of terror and I didn’t…she’s hard to be around anymore.”
“I’m just messin’ with you, kid,” He replies, letting out a soft huff as he sat down in his worn-in recliner.
“Are they home?”
“Left about an hour ago, they’re movin’ stuff into the house, I guess? I don’t know,” Joel sounds disinterested and you share the sentiment, but then there’s a distinct snap of a bottle cap that you try to ignore.
Joel hears your lips part on the other end, “It’s been a long day,” It was the first time he’s outright acknowledged it, which was a step, but not what you needed.
“Tommy told me,” You blurt in frustration, “about her.”
“Listen, I don’t need you judgin’ me either. I get it enough from Tommy as is—“
“I’m not…I wasn’t,” You respond, confused, “I just, I wish you’d mentioned her, at least. Not that you owe that to me…but—”
Joel clears his throat and the bottle scuffs the table, undrank as he settles back into his seat.
“I got my own baggage, ain’t no sense dragging you into that,” Joel defends, “not with all you have going on.”
“If you can fuck me, you can talk to me too,”
It silences him effectively, “I’m not a child. I’m not your child. I’m an adult—“
“Where is this comin’ from? I’ve never said that—“
“I don’t know,” You sigh in exasperation, “It’s been a long day, Joel. I’m gonna head to bed, okay?”
You don’t wait for his response, hanging up on him with a frustrated finality, mad at yourself and him, reasons unclear—you haven’t prayed in months, but you find the urge as the guilt creeps in, wondering if Joel was the corruptor your mother had always warned you about.
They’ll come at your weakest and test your faith, and if you break, you’re just as feeble as the rest of the world without faith to guide them.
-
The week drags and you’d much rather be somewhere else, but you find yourself turning the doorknob to the Miller home and a Happy Birthday balloon floating into the open doorway, a contorted look of confusion on your face as your eyes land on the three adults in the living room.
“Are we celebrating early?” You look at your mother, who’s birthday is approaching in a couple weeks, but she’s quickly shaking her head.
“It’s Joel’s birthday, honey.”
“Oh,” Your eyes glide over the three of them until they land on Joel, “Happy Birthday?”
Joel hates the attention, clearly. 
The next few hours are spent together at a fancy restaurant Tommy decides to treat everyone too, a nice gesture for his brother’s birthday, but it doesn’t dissipate the underlying frustration.
And Tommy, being a pushover for the sake of allowing his brother to enjoy his birthday, drinks alongside him—four beers down and a couple shots later, dinner finished and skipping dessert, everyone is heading back to the car in silence, though Joel does look considerably lighter in his expression, his normally furrowed brow now relaxed.
Your mother is quick to drag Tommy to their shared room when you’re home, giving you a gentle hug that you haven’t felt in months, strange and unsettling to your psyche. Joel relaxes onto the couch, kicking his boots off toward the edge of the rug before he’s searching around blindly for the remote, thumbing the button to turn on the television.
It illuminates the dim room and you find yourself standing there, unmoving, suddenly feeling completely out of place in a home you’ve grown comfortable in.
“You’re quiet,” Joel notes, not looking at you while he fumbles with his watch, twisting in on his wrist as he places a sock covered foot against the coffee table.
“And you’re drunk,” You retorted, the again unsaid but implied.
“Believe it ‘r not, I can handle myself. I know my limit,” Joel responds, “I’ve been cuttin’ back, I don’t need you tellin’ me what I can handle. You’re young, you wouldn’t understand anyways.”
“Guess so,” You reply lamely, stripping off your shirt down to the thin spaghetti top, the thick September heat seeping inside the Miller home, even as the sun set—and you can feel Joel’s eyes on you before you look at him, eyes lingering longer than they should.
There were often moments where he would fend off your advances, quiet moments at home alone when you would slip into his lap or behind him and he’d let you down easily, but he wasn’t always that strong—a weak man with temptation dangling in his face. He’s always been in the wrong from the beginning, allowing any of this to develop and further.
But, you’re feeling vindictive tonight—upset and angry at yourself, angry at Joel—no, frustrated. 
And with Tommy and your mother turned in for the night, absolutely no sign of them resurfacing until morning, nothing was stopping you as Joel’s eyes bored into you and the slow rise and fall of your chest.
He’s always been cautious and safe, never while the house was occupied, only in quiet and enclosed spaces that he could lock the doors—that in the chance you might get caught he could lie or evade and not face the consequences, but even as you grow closer and climb into his lap, he doesn’t stop you.
Your hands grip his hair immediately, yanking his head back as you press your ass into his thighs and bring your lips to his jaw, mouthing against the line of his neck and around, pulling at the collar of his shirt to nip at his chest, nothing but his shallow breaths and the soft hum of the television to fill the air, the solid press of his hard cock against your inner thigh a warning sign.
You could end it here, leave him with the guilt that continued to grow within him. 
You could drag him to his room, ride him over his sheets like he desired, a clandestine sight that would have any man on his knees—or so he’s told you. 
Or, you seduce him here.
He was already nearly there, reaching for you as he leaned forward when you pulled back, pressing a hand into his chest, “I’m leaving, after the wedding,” Joel pauses, the furrow in his brow returning faintly, “I got an offer for an internship.”
“Well..that’s good, ain’t it?”
His hands squeeze at your sides as they travel and settle there, ignoring the obvious danger that the two could walk out at any moment, focused solely on you. It shouldn’t make you feel good, but it does. You shouldn’t want this, but you craved it.
“No, like—I’m leaving that night. To Dallas.” A long pause follows and Joel waits, watching as you glance down the hall, “I don’t know how to tell her.”
“Do you want to?” Joel asks.
You sigh softly, playing with the hem of his collar, “No, I don’t. Tommy told me he could deal with the fallout, but—”
“Tommy knows?”
You look at him with a tired roll of your eyes and a faint smile, “Yes, he does. He snooped and read the letter—he’s known I’ve wanted this opportunity for a while.”
“I didn’t think you two talked that much,” Joel replies honestly.
“We don’t, not always,” You admit, “not with my mom around—and he told me, about your drinking problem.”
Joel huffs quietly, scratching at his cheek as he looks away.
“I just—this isn’t…like, it isn’t also because of that, right?” You ask, “Does drinking make you feel less guilty about it?”
You know it isn’t the entire reason, but there is some suspicion. Given the constant lingering taste on his lip after the first instance together and the several that followed, a burgeoning problem of his own melding with the dangerous secrets you’ve been trying to keep.
“There’s no guilt,” It was the most confident you’ve heard Joel to be…ever. Not an ounce of hesitation in his tone, “We’re adults, we made a choice. But, I think there is a point where we have to realize this can’t work.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
Joel awaits quietly, not giving you a nod but his eyes turn up in wait, his thumbs slipping under the fabric of your shirt to press into warm flesh.
“If they weren’t together—if your brother wasn’t going to be my stepdad, would you have thought twice? If we had met at a bar or something?”
“I don’t know,” Joel answers, unsure.
You sigh deeply, leaning into his eyeline to capture his lips, an unexpected kiss that grabs his attention, his hands climbing higher under your shirt in search of skin.
“I think you do,” You mumble against his mouth, “I also think you were vulnerable and you saw that I was too and you wanted to feel a little less lonely.”
Joel can’t find the words to respond, feeling like you’ve seen straight through him.
“So, let me help a little more,” You soothe his rapidly beating heart with your sultry tone, unbuttoning your jeans with slow movements, only removing yourself from him briefly to strip your jeans and underwear off before you return to his lap.
You wait until he finally got with the program and unbuttoned his own jeans, shifting them just far enough down his thighs that they’re out of the way, grabbing for the blanket draped over the couch to wrap around you and you almost protest, but the concentrated look on his face as returns your gaze short-circuits your thinking, fisting his cock as he slides it between your wet folds, pressing inside of you slowly, your slow breaths mingling together in each other’s mouth.
“Quiet,” He reminds you, “we have to be quiet.”
Easier said than done, you giggle against his lips.
“Says you,” You tease, lifting your hips slowly as he follows the movement, allowing you to lead, your hands pressing into the back of the couch, “I like hearing how bad you want it,”
Joel’s hand dwarfs your mouth as he covers it, eyes narrowing at your pointed choice of words and he snaps his hips into you harshly without warning, forcing out a yelp into his palm as your hands tighten into the cushion, canting your hips as you lift them in time with his thrusts.
He’s got his teeth digging into his bottom lip in an attempt to silence himself, eventually grabbing for your hand and covering his own mouth in desperation, wrapping his free hand around your back and pulling you to his chest, foreheads pressed against each other as you meld together, different emotions swirling as he commits this feeling, and your body, to memory.
Joel feels the familiar, cold touch of your dangle chain necklace, plain silver cross interlocked at the center of it, at this angle it nudges his nose with every thrust, a dainty piece of jewelry that he always took the time to tuck behind your neck—he’s never seen you without it.
He thinks for a moment, considering his action before he’s reaching to tuck it behind your head.
But, your hand stops him, placing it back center before you’re reaching behind to unclasp the necklace from your body, dangling it over the empty cushion beside you.
“It’s okay,” You can sense Joel’s confusion, worry— “I’m starting to figure things out for myself,” It’s intimate, the way you’re talking to him now, voice barely above a whisper as his hips rock gently to keep a slow place, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face, “besides…the things I want you to do to me, it’s blasphemy, really.”
Joel snorts at that, finding the sudden burst of energy to snake his hands under your thighs, lifting you up slightly as he scoots himself further down the couch, feet planted flat on the ground and allowing you proper leverage to use his body just the way you desire.
It takes very little time to work him up, a deep growl suppressed behind clenched teeth as your fingers dig into his cheek where your hand is still tight over his mouth, riding him with a clear determination, his eyes softening and pleading—he’s right there and you can see it.
His eyes flutter, hand squeezing and kneading at your thigh in silent prayer. 
Rich, you think. Maybe you’ve been worshiping wrong your entire life.
Your climax comes slowly, alongside his. It’s quiet, a long moment of drawn out sighs poured into each other’s skin, his achy groan a light reprieve to the moment as you climb off of him.
“Staying or going?” He asks after you’ve stood, blanket wrapped around your body.
“Depends,” Your finger dangle in front of his face, watching as he works his jeans back up his thighs, belt sitting unbuckled in his lap, “your room or mine?”
Joel nods with a smile, nudging you toward the hall.
Joel’s dangling the silver necklace in his hand as you exit the bathroom, hair damp and dressed in only a shirt—his shirt, climbing onto his bed while he approaches with an extended hand.
You take it silently, passing it off to his bedside table without a word.
“So, when do we have the talk?” You ask curiously, ripping the bandaid off immediately.
“Not tonight, if you don’t want to.”
Your brow pinches together as he slips under the blanket beside you, throwing the cover back to beckon you underneath. You oblige, sliding onto your knees to lean against his chest, forearm covering his abdomen as you rest your chin on your arm.
“I was thinking about starting deconstruction therapy,” You admit, scratching a fingernail at the patchy and fading emblem on his shirt, “It’s…silly, I know. But, I think it might help. I’m doubting—well, everything. I just need someone to talk to. A professional, I mean.”
“That really what you want?” Joel asks curiously, his fingers wrapping around your wrist gently, rubbing his thumb into the skin, “It ain’t because of me, is it?”
“I think I’ve been questioning things long before you, or even Tommy. I’m telling you because—I don’t know, I guess I want to hold myself accountable. So I don’t chicken out. Besides, you seem pretty good at keeping secrets.”
Joel shakes his head slightly in amusement, heaving out a long sigh as his eyes turn toward the ceiling, still favoring your touch as he continues to rub slow circles into your skin.
“I…also think you should get some help,” You add gently, “talk to someone about Sarah—doesn’t have to be me. I mean, Tommy is terrified to mention her, and thinks you’ll blow up on him. You’re…you’re an alcoholic, you know that? My mom was too, before she met Tommy.”
Joel keeps quiet, chewing at his bottom lip. It wasn’t a horrible sign, so you continue.
“She hid it really well, you…not so much.”
“So, holdin’ each other accountable then, huh?” Joel inquires, eyebrow raised.
“I can forgive your lapse in judgement when it came to me—the sex is…good,” You pause, considering your words, “really…really fucking good, but I think we’re using it to avoid things.”
“Think you can fix me?” Joel asks, with a tone of honesty in his voice, “Sweetheart, I’ve been broken for a long time.”
“Mend,” You emphasize, “you can heal—so can I. I think we both owe it to ourselves”
His hand engulfed the side of your face, the hot press of his skin against your cheek as you smiled against the touch, watching as he slowly returned the gesture.
“I think we do, sweetheart.”
I’ll try, for you—he thinks silently but doesn’t say. It doesn’t matter that his fatal attraction had turned into something of lasting admiration, because that would never work. 
But, for you, he’d try.
441 notes · View notes
maybankswhore · 1 year ago
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I don’t know if you’re still taking obx requests (if you’re not feel free to ignore this) but maybe you could write about JJ dating the girliest girl on the island and all the pouges are like HER? And he’s so proud like yeah that’s my girl
𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓.
this request was too cute not to do! i don’t know if this is the direction you were looking for but i think it came out adorable! i hope you like it <3
pairing(s): jj maybank x fem!reader
summary: in which jj bags the girliest girl on the island— but what can he say? opposites attract.
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The minute JJ saw you , he knew he had to have you. You made his eyes glimmer the moment they laid upon you— with half of your hair pulled back in a pretty pink claw clip , a pretty white sundress on as you laughed sweetly with your friends , nails done and makeup complimenting your features so well.
You were quite literally , breathtaking , in his eyes and although you weren’t the usual low maintenance , tom–boyish type of girl he was used to , it had only made him more attracted to you.
At first he didn’t know how to approach you. He never had problems in the girl department before. Being so confident and charismatic , talking a girl up was a slice of cake to him. But when it came to you , you just seemed so nice and warm. He was afraid that he wouldn’t meet your standards , that maybe you deserved someone better than him. The difference in aesthetics were clear— him with his years old shorts and plain tee while you sported that white sundress that was so elegantly simple.
He sipped on his beer slowly watching you from across the Boneyard , trying to get a good feel of your personality. From what he could see , you seemed nice. You talked to almost everyone and seemed genuinely interested in each convention. He knew you weren’t a Pogue but you didn’t give Kook vibes either. JJ was just about to give it all up and walk away , until Pope walked over to you and gave you a hug– which you had excitedly returned.
JJ watched the two of you converse for a bit wondering if he should wait and ask Pope about you or just go up mid–conversation and introduce himself. . . The conversation wasn’t long enough for him to interrupt though , because by the time he got his thoughts together Pope was already walking towards him.
“What’re you staring at me for?” Pope shoved his shoulder playfully , filling up his cup at the keg JJ was standing next to.
JJ snorted. “You wish I was staring at you. I was looking at her— who is that?” He nodded in your direction.
“That’s Y/N and she’s not your type.” Pope snorted , rolling his eyes at the glint JJ’s face held– he knew that face all too well.
JJ huffed. “And why not? She’s a pretty girl. I like those.”
“Pretty and girly , JJ. She’s emotional and likes all that romantic bullshit you hate. You’d hate it.” Pope pointed out , reminding JJ of the millions of girlfriends he had but soon discarded because he couldn’t keep an emotional connection to save his life. Let alone know how to romance a girl.
JJ gave Pope and offended expression , scoffing. “I can be romantic , Pope.”
“One time you gave a girl a bag of dirt for Valentines Day.” Pope deadpanned.
“Bitch , I was literally ten!” JJ defended. “And it’s the thought that counts. I picked out all the bugs.”
Pope stared at JJ for a second , giving him a knowing look making JJ sigh deeply. “Whatever! I don’t care what you say. I’m in love!” JJ oogled in your direction , a hand over his heart.
Pope patted JJ on the back and shook his head. “I’m sure you are , buddy. I’m sure you are.”
With that Pope walked away to find his other friends , leaving JJ to huff on his own.
“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” JJ muttered , finishing off his drink. Sure he acknowledged you weren’t his ‘usual’ type— but hey! How’s that saying go? Opposites attract!
Downing the rest of his drink , JJ shook his body to release his nerves. You were finally alone , sitting next to the fire while your friends played beer pong a few feet away from you. Taking this as his time to shine , he strolled over to you with sweaty palms. He felt like a teenage boy having his first crush all over again! All sweaty and nervous. He really did think you were the prettiest girl ever , and he had to talk to you.
“Uh– want some company?” JJ asked lowly , hoping you’d still be able to hear him. He didn’t want to scare you or seem to pushy , so he made sure not to tower over you and keep a good distance away.
Your eyes looked away from the fire and up at him , your cheeks burning red. He was cute. A messy head of blonde hair with small dimples barely noticeable when he smiled. You could feel his nervousness and it made you giggle a bit , excitement in your tummy swirling at the thought of such a cute boy wanting to talk to you. “Sure.” You accepted , moving over for him to sit next to you.
“I—um. . . I like your dress.” JJ said as he sat down , cringing at how awkward he sounded.
You grinned at his compliment. “Thank you. I like your shirt.” You returned the compliment , although the shirt wasn’t to interesting , the person wearing it made it look good.
“Nah this thing’s old.” JJ brushed off.
“Well I don’t know how old this thing is but I bought it at a thrift shop not too long ago.” You shrugged , bumping his shoulder. “I’m Y/N.”
Feeling more comfortable with making conversation , JJ looked at you smiling. “JJ.”
“You’re Pope’s friend!” You remembered Pope bringing up someone named JJ before in distant conversations. Though he was always ranting about the boy , seeming exasperated every time.
“The one and only.” JJ said proudly. “So that means he talks about me— how sweet.” He cooed.
You chuckled. “Only about how you never stop forcing him to leave work early.”
“What kind’ve friend would I be if I just let him work his little self out like that!” JJ defended.
“Point proven.” You nodded , laughing with him. He seemed easy to talk to , even with just a few exchanges of words to eachother. His aura seemed sweet , something that you noticed. “So Pope wasn’t there to keep you company?” You teased.
JJ cheeks blushed slightly , scratching the back of his neck. “No actually , I–uh , I saw you earlier and I think you’re like really pretty and I really wanted to talk to you.” He admitted , hoping to see if you’d be interested in— well anything.
It was your turn to blush. A sweet smile on your face as you tucked a piece of hair away from your face. “You think so?”
“The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” He vowed with one hand up in the air. “Scout’s honor.” JJ added.
“Well I think you’re really pretty , too.” You grinned , copying his actions. “Scout’s honor.”
The rest of the night flowed easily between you two. The two of you talked about anything and everything getting to know eachother , seeing what you had in common and what you didn’t. You weren’t much of an outdoorsy person , and loved everything bright and cheerful. JJ seemed to be quite the opposite but he was interested in what you liked , and you seemed to have an open mind about the things he did , as well.
The night ended and your friends called you over telling you it was time to leave , but you put your number in JJ’s phone telling him to call you.
And you didn’t get too far before he dialed that number right up , making sure he had it before you left.
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Things had ended up well betwen you and JJ. He had taken you out on dates. Some being what he wanted to do , some of you forcing him to go thrift shopping with you and give him a fashion show. He had researched every romantic comedy , every romance novel to give you the most that you deserved because he started to really like you.
He loved everything about you , how girly you were , how your nails were always done and your hair always fixed. You had such passion for so many things and it shined through you , and it showed inside and out.
JJ fell for you quickly , asking you to be his girlfriend on the seventh date. He planned everything all by himself. A beach picnic at night with pretty little candles and lights. ( All things he had thrifted , knowing it’d make your heart happy. )
He’d never forget how pretty you looked that night in your skirt , big eyes watching him in admiration as he asked you to be his girlfriend , getting all emotional and crying when he did.
But now that things were really serious , he wanted to introduce you to the Pogue’s— which he was excited about , but you were so nervous.
“Baby they’re gonna love you.” JJ promised as the two of you walked to the front door. “I told them they’re gonna love you and they have to listen to me and do what I say regardless.”
You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend. “It doesn’t work like that , JJ.”
“Well it does in my world.” He told you , wrapping an arm around your waist and bringing you close to him. He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. “I love you so they’ll love you because I do.”
Your heart melted and you always fell to your knees. “I love you , too.”
JJ kissed you one more time before opening the door. You could hear the chaos as soon as it opened , laughter and commotion. Your stomach was in knots as you walked in , wondering what his friends would think. You had seen Pope a couple times since being with JJ , but you hadn’t said anything out of respect for your boyfriend because you knew he wanted to be the one to tell them.
“Hey guys!” JJ said loud enough for them to look at him , their eyes immediately looking at you then back at him then the arm around your waist.
Kiara smirked , knowing that JJ always did have that soft spot he claimed never to have. Pope looked like a deer in headlights and John B was just confused.
“I want you to meet my girlfriend.” He put emphasis on girlfriend. “Who is extremely hot and girly and also extremely my type.” JJ said , looking at Pope.
You nudged JJ’s shoulder and smiled at them. “I’m Y/N.”
“No fucking way.” Pope said , obviously shocked.
“Aw! My little JJ is all grown up.” Kiara pretended to wipe a tear away. “You’re so cute— I’m Kiara.” She pushed past the two boys and tugged at your arm. “I’m excited to have another girl around , do you smoke? Let’s smoke a joint outside.”
JJ pulled you away from her. “Um , no. She doesn’t and her first time ain’t being with you!”
Kiara scoffed and pulled you back , standing in front of you protectively. “If she wants to she will.” She glared before turning back to you and pulling you towards the back yard. “You totally don’t have to.” She whispered in your ear making you laugh.
JJ smiled as he watched his bestfriend take to you and bring you outside. He was excited to have you around more and bring into his life in this way , the Pogue’s were a part of his world that he wanted you a part of.
“I gotta say JJ , I wasn’t expecting that.” John B clapped him on the shoulder.
“No kidding!” Pope scoffed. “I didn’t think he’d get past the first conversation.”
JJ crossed his arms and smirked , shrugging nonchalantly. “What can I say? Opposites attract.”
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ohbueckers · 2 months ago
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TWO CAN PLAY THAT GAME. you dope, have a player ‘bout to choke, i was at a loss for words first time that we spoke.
CHAPTER ONE! pairing, paige bueckers x teammate!oc. notes, new ju series just dropped who clapped… i’m so excited for this so please let me know what you think and what you wanna see!!! it’ll feature a few different tropes (these bitches are complicated as hell) and i’ll be using different songs. this was also supposed to be out yesterday whoops. warnings, not much just some slight rivalry.
april, 2022
paige sat on the floor, her back pressed against azzi’s bed, eyes staring blankly at her phone screen. the dorm was packed to the brim, all of her teammates crammed into the room, waiting for the news to drop. she wasn’t sure why her palms felt clammy, or why her heart was hammering harder than it should be for a thursday night in late april… or she was completely sure and refused to come to terms with it.
we’re really doing this again, huh?
it had been weeks since the national championship loss, and yet the sting still hadn’t faded. south carolina. dawn staley’s generational ran gamecocks who got almost everything, including that damn sana caruso.
for years, their careers had paralleled each other, both rising basketball stars, always in the spotlight, always part of the same conversations. and yet, for reasons paige couldn’t quite figure out for the life of her, they had never crossed paths. sana was stubborn, that much she knew. paige remembered the day south carolina landed her—it had been all anyone could talk about. opinions flew in every direction: sana should’ve gone to stanford, to ucla, anywhere but there. paige couldn’t lie—part of her had wondered why uconn hadn’t even been in the mix, but it was now, and the blonde felt like she was reliving that evening in 2019 all over again.
wherever she ended up, it would be some news that would flip the script. impact their season, because sana was undoubtedly everywhere. the defensive mastermind, the one who didn’t care if she was 5’10 going up against post players towering over her. she locked them down, put up numbers, and somehow always found her way into the conversation, even when paige tried not to pay attention.
they were talked about like rivals, the head of every one of their matchups, but there had never been any real competition, at least not on the court. paige couldn’t remember a time they’d even properly interacted. but despite how much they were constantly compared, sana had made it painfully clear that paige might as well not exist in her world, and it was infuriating as hell.
“you think she’s really coming?” azzi asked, her voice soft and almost like she didn’t believe it herself as she cut through paige’s thoughts. no one did.
aaliyah, sprawled out on the floor, rolled her eyes. it’d been pushing 10 o’clock, and almost everyone had class in the morning. what had that been stopping, though? absolutely nothing. “if dorka doesn’t hurry up with the article, we’ll never know.”
“hey, be patient.” dorka threw her hand up, shooting her teammates some tight-lipped grin as she furiously scrolled through her phone. “they’re slow with these drops.”
“thats that uconn wifi,” aubrey mumbled, sending everyone into different variations of a laugh.
nika snorted. “nah, she’s right. it’s either that or we’ve got like, fifty million people trying to figure out where sana’s going.”
“bro, you know espn’s probably crashed by now,” aaliyah chipped in, leaning back on her elbows.
paige didn’t know why, but it bugged her that sana had never really acknowledged her—like, at all. not a comment, not a follow, not even a glance her way during games. paige wasn’t used to that. she wasn’t used to being ignored, and their minimal interactions only made the internet have more of a field day with that non-existent rivalry, and if sana weren’t to say anything, why would paige?
and now here they were, possibly about to be on the same team. paige had no clue how that was going to play out, but the thought of it made her stomach flip. it was like some cosmic joke.
“yo, i’m serious though,” aaliyah said, slowly rising from her spot on the floor. “how wild is this? if she really comes here, we’re stacked. that chip is ours this year.”
the blonde suddenly felt defensive. they didn’t need sana caruso to get that chip for them. “she’s not coming here,” paige blurted, half to herself, shaking her head. “no way.”
“why not?” azzi asked, narrowing her eyes. “i mean, all signs point here, right? unless i’m crazy.”
“yeah, but it’s sana,” paige replied as if it were the most obvious thing, running a hand through her hair. “she does what she wants, she’s the type to pick somewhere else just ‘cause everyone thinks she’s coming here.”
“you sound so stupid! and in denial,” nika snickered, throwing herself back into the couch. “just admit you want her on the team, paige.”
paige shot her a look, but couldn’t quite hide the smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. “i don’t care what she does.” she pointed at her chest, sinking further into her spot. “she could go anywhere.”
“sure,” dorka added, inserting herself into the conversation. her eyes didn’t leave her screen as she continued to refresh her browser, almost like she didn’t have to. “because that’s exactly why you’ve been all up in your head about her this whole time.”
“hey, wait. don’t do that.” but it was too late, her teammates had already been throwing out their ‘ooh’s,’ like this were some kindergarten class. but the truth was, she couldn’t deny it. there was something about sana that had her all twisted up, more than she cared to admit. maybe it was the way she carried herself, like she didn’t need anyone’s approval, or the fact that she always seemed to be a step ahead. and it didn’t help that she was ridiculously pretty. like, stupidly pretty. the kind of pretty that got under paige’s skin and made her feel something, even when she tried to act like it was no big deal.
maybe that was what really irked her all these years.
“nah, for real, though,” paige said, trying to keep her cool, “she’s different. she’ll probably pull some wild move and end up at notre dame or something.”
“notre dame?” azzi shot her a confused look. “you’re reaching now.”
“i’m just saying!” paige replied through a laugh, although it was mainly just a gesture to defend herself. shrugging and throwing her hands up in surrender. “she doesn’t follow the crowd. everyone thinks she’s coming here because it makes sense, but you know sana—”
“you don’t know sana,” aubrey cut in with a laugh. “that’s the problem.”
“you sound really passionate about this, paige,” nika laughed out, always the one getting the biggest kick out of things like this. she was always in the mood to tease her twin.
paige opened her mouth to argue, but she stopped short, because aubrey wasn’t exactly wrong. she didn’t know sana, at least not personally. she’d known this version she made up of her in her head, the one that frustrated her to no end, the one she couldn’t ever figure out. and while she did that, sana, with her perfectly highlighted curls that framed her perfect face that always held that stupid fucking smirk probably hadn’t even thought twice about paige bueckers once in her damn life.
“you’ve definitely thought about this way too much,” azzi said, chuckling herself. “like, more than any of us.”
paige threw her head back, groaning. “why is this about me all of a sudden?”
“‘cause you’re acting like she’s been living in your head rent-free for years,” nika teased again, her next laugh coming out in a sputter. this entire thing had clearly been amusing someone.
“yeah, okay, whatever,” paige mumbled, crossing her arms.
“hey, don’t worry,” dorka said, eyes glued to her phone as she moved her hand to rest on paige’s thigh comfortably, consolingly. “you’ll have plenty of time to figure out what’s going on in that head of hers.”
paige raised a brow, lifting her head and turning to the other blonde. “what do you mean?”
dorka’s grin widened as she looked up, everyone’s attention turning back to her. “because she’s coming here. she’s ours, guys!”
for a second, the room went dead silent, the words hanging in the air like they needed time to settle in.
then, chaos.
sana caruso is a uconn husky, meaning paige bueckers could finally figure out what made the girl tick.
july, 2022
the gym was full—more than usual. everyone was there for the first day of summer workouts, even the players sitting out due to injuries. there was the familiar sound of sneakers squeaking against the hardwood floor, and the faint trace of cleaning solution still lingering from the early morning scrubs. july in storrs was hot, too. the kind of heat that clung to your skin and didn’t let go, even inside the gym.
the team was standing around near the sidelines, waiting to start. geno had the new recruits huddled, running through some preseason talk, but all paige could think about was sana—standing a few feet away. they’d obviously been in the same room before, the same gym before, but today felt all too intimate. as it should, though. they were teammates now. hell, they’d be sharing the backcourt.
this would be the first time she’d see her up close—really up close—since everything went down. the transfer news, the headlines, the pics of sana decked out in uconn gear flooding her feed (a sight paige needed to mentally prepare for because damn, did she look good in white and navy blue). it had all felt surreal then, but now, it was about to be real real.
what’s she even thinking right now? paige wondered, feeling a slight pinch of annoyance. because as much as she wanted to believe this was just another day in the gym, it wasn’t. not for her.
when handshakes started, paige couldn’t even hear her own thoughts due to the loudness as everyone went through the routine of greeting the new faces. paige made her way through her teammates, exchanging quick daps and nods, her focus drifting back to sana more times than she’d like to admit.
the blonde was normally more noisy, doing everything in her power to get on with the people she’d be spending the season with. but right now, her interaction with sana would either confirm or deny every assumption she’s ever had, and that was quite frankly the only thing consuming her mind.
she could feel the intensity in her chest when it came time to shake sana’s hand. she stepped forward, hand extended, ready to make some kind of connection, but sana barely looked at her. it was quick, almost dismissive. no eye contact, no words exchanged. paige pulled her hand back, clenching her jaw as she watched her move into conversation with azzi, who seemed to earn a more genuine response than paige could get. a smile, and a giggle that could’ve been mistaken for music.
seriously?
the team broke off, moving toward the court. this’ll be a long practice.
they lined up, and as they went through the typical routine—light shooting drills, ball-handling, footwork—it became clear that sana wasn’t just good. she was a standout. and for someone who was only 5’10 in the basketball world, she carried herself like she could take on anyone, work with anyone, too, no matter the size or position.
“she got handles,” nika muttered under her breath. the comment was meant for the girls around her to catch and respond to, but paige just stood, eye squinted and arms crossed.
“handles? she got vision too,” ice brady, a freshman added, eyes wide as sana weaved through a defense drill, her speed and precision on full display. her ponytail swung perfectly on her head, lip tugged tightly between her teeth as she moved to make a layup. the ball went in, and ayanna moved to grab her rebound. the group cheered her on voluntarily, and paige only moved to turn her head as sana jogged past her to the back of the line, her demeanor as calm and collected as ever. and damn annoying.
the players gathered at the top of the key, forming a loose circle as they got ready to start a more structured scrimmage. paige found herself standing across from sana, their eyes meeting for the first time that morning, but the moment left as quick as it started. sana had her hands on her hips, listening intently to geno as if she didn’t already know what they’d be doing, because the blonde wasn’t supposed to have caught her looking.
“let’s run it!” geno’s voice snapped through the gym again, clapping his hands once, and the team split into two sides as directed, ready to play.
as the scrimmage began, paige tried to shake off the weird tension and focus, although it wasn’t really working. nothing had ever managed to get her off-game this bad. it was the escape, after all, so why did it feel like it would be causing her more problems now? she ran the court as a point guard, eyes scanning for plays, calling out switches, directing traffic. but every time the ball moved to sana, paige noticed the same thing—she’d find a way to dish it to someone else. anyone but her.
what the hell?
on a fast break, paige found herself wide open again, just outside the three-point line. she threw her hands up, calling for the pass. sana had the ball at the top of the key, and paige practically begged for some type of acknowledgment that she didn’t get. but instead of passing, sana faked it and lobbed it to aaliyah under the basket for an easy layup. paige didn’t even move. she just stood there, hands still raised, eyes burning into her ponytail.
“alright, switch it up!” geno called, and the team rotated.
the ball was in her hands now, and she dribbled down the court, eyes searching for a play, trying to shake off the irritation in her chest. the worst part was that no one seemed to notice, because sana had a way of singling the blonde out in a way that made her think she was fucking crazy. she passed to nika, and they rotated again, the pace of the scrimmage picking up.
it finally came to a head when they were working on a transition drill. paige had the ball, racing down the court, and sana was on the wing. paige pushed the tempo, looking for an outlet, but sana cut her off at the last second, forcing her to pull up and reset the play.
that was it. paige lost it.
“yo! if we’re gonna work the backcourt together, you’ve gotta work with me,” she snapped, her voice only turning a few rather concerned heads. she stopped dribbling, staring at sana, her breath coming out in heavy bursts.
sana finally turned to face her, full body and everything, their eyes locking for what felt like the first time all day.
she wasn’t angry, wasn’t startled by paige’s tone. she was calm like she always was, and the slight tilt of her head only pissed paige off more. she was looking right at her now, really looking, and all the playful cockiness that always held some undercurrent, yet always came so naturally to paige, was just gone.
damn.
she didn’t know why she was still standing there, seething, waiting for sana to say something after her outburst. and when she finally spoke, it wasn’t the apology or acknowledgment paige might have been expecting.
“you’re pressing,” sana said, her voice maddeningly casual. like there had been no heat from the beginning. “you’re rushing everything. it’s like you’re trying to do too much.”
paige blinked, caught off guard. rushing? she almost laughed. her jaw clenched, fingers tightening around the ball. she hated how calm sana was, how she managed to deliver criticism like she was just making an observation. “too much?” she shot back, stepping closer. “i’m just trying to get us moving, trying to get you involved. but it seems like you’re more interested in doing your own thing.” she hated that every time she tried to connect with sana on the court, it felt like she was hitting a wall.
but she also hated that she cared about it so much.
sana didn’t break, expression remaining composed, annoyingly unreadable with her short manicured nails digging into her hip. “you think running the floor means you’re the only one who gets to call the shots? that’s not how i play.”
paige blinked, trying to regain her footing, mentally and physically. “you’re not even trying to work with me!” her voice raised a bit as she addressed what had been bothering her before, causing a few heads to turn. the exchange didn’t look entirely friendly after all. “every time i’m open, you’re looking the other way.” she pointed to the court.
sana’s eyes narrowed slightly, some kind of look crossing her face—was it amusement? “it’s not personal, paige. it’s basketball.” it was the first time the blonde’s name left her mouth, first time she felt like an actual person to her, and it still didn’t feel good.
sana, on the other hand, was watching her closely, reading paige’s reaction like she was still deciding how much of this back-and-forth was worth it. she knew she was poking at her ego, but she also thought that ego could use a little deflating. everyone talked about her like she was the second coming of basketball itself, and while sana could respect her talent, the way everyone hung on her every move grated on her.
sana wasn’t jealous. not even a little bit. she wasn’t wired like that. but that didn’t mean she was going to be another cog in the well-oiled bueckers machine. she never liked to make things more complicated than they needed to be, and basketball? basketball was supposed to be simple. play smart, play efficient, make the right decisions. that’s why she was here. that’s why geno recruited her. she didn’t bring flash—she brought results. she played smooth, and if she wasn’t in charge, she sure as hell wasn’t going to let anyone treat her like a sidekick. especially not paige bueckers.
she was willing to work with her, of course. sana was well aware of what her transfer meant, how good it would be for the both of them if people stopped pitting them against each other. but it didn’t mean she would warm up straight away. they’d make an unstoppable duo—if they could just figure out how to coexist.
“look, i’m just saying, you’re pushing too hard. sometimes it’s about playing smart, not playing fast.”
paige’s stomach churned at the implication. she wasn’t just some showboat out there. it felt like a direct shot to everything she stood for.
“you think i’m not playing smart?”
sana raised an eyebrow, her lips curling just slightly. “i think you’re playing like you’ve got something to prove.”
and that stopped paige cold. she’d proven enough. but the way sana was looking at her, cool and detached, like she could see right through her, made her feel small despite her taller figure. it wasn’t anger that sana was giving her—it was indifference. like she didn’t even care enough to be mad.
“run it again!” geno yelled, and they did.
paige inhaled sharply, chewing on her lip as she clutched the ball to her side, watching as sana jogged off, obeying orders immediately. she could feel the eyes of her teammates on her, especially nika, who was biting back a grin from the sidelines, one hundred percent sure her best friend just got schooled. dorka raised an eyebrow at her, silently urging her to keep her cool.
they lined up for the play again, the ball bouncing back into paige’s hands. she hated it, but sana’s words echoed in her head. pressing… rushing… trying too hard. as much as she didn’t want to admit it, maybe she was pressing. maybe she was letting this whole situation get to her in ways she shouldn’t.
when the whistle blew, paige instinctively took control again, charging down the court. but she couldn’t stop herself from hesitating for just a second, looking toward sana on the wing. without overthinking it, she passed the ball to her, her hands moving almost against her will.
sana caught it, knees bent and ready before driving to the basket. she didn’t hesitate, didn’t flinch. she just played, like she always did. the ball went in, and the play was perfect, but paige didn’t feel satisfied. if anything, she felt worse. it felt like they were already at odds, and the season hadn’t even started yet.
it had worked. but it was because she’d done what sana said. and if it wasn’t personal before, it definitely was now.
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matchingbatbites · 8 months ago
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somehow we're here
Explicit | 6.5k | Modern AU | Full Tags + Read on Ao3
Steve only downloaded the app because he was drunk. 
At least, that’s what he’ll tell himself in the morning, once he’s back in the light of day and not half-gone on a few fruity cocktails and multiple shots of tequila - at least three, though it’s realistically more like five or six. Nevermind that he’s been home for almost an hour at this point, is only still awake because of the vague nausea still rolling in his stomach. 
It had been incredibly easy to set up an account, even in his drunken state - something he thinks might be a feature and not a bug - and he’s been scrolling on it for about ten minutes when he realizes-
He’s still bored.
Because that had been the real reason, hadn’t it?
Steve is bored. Bored of first dates that seem to go nowhere, of relationships that seem to fizzle out after a few weeks, and for whatever reason, Tequila Steve seems convinced that a gay dating app would be a fun thing to sign up for. It’s not like he has anything to lose, he’s just bored and kind of horny and definitely not lonely and desperate.
So Steve flips through profiles, taking in photos of the same waifish boys and beefy gym bros. He’s just about ready to give up and try to sleep through the nausea, when he stumbles across a profile that makes him stop cold. 
The photo looks like it’s from a concert or something; the guy is on a stage, clearly mid-show, with a wicked looking guitar in his hands. Steve’s eyes get caught on those hands, the veins and the painted nails and the chunky, silver rings. 
His hair is a riot of dark curls haloed by the stage lights, and Steve regrets that he isn’t able to see the man’s face. He focuses instead on his clothes, the black t-shirt and ripped jeans, his exposed forearms littered with black ink. 
The photo is so honest. It’s pure, simple emotion and Steve is instantly drawn in, eager to know more about this person.
The next photo is closer, clearly cropped down from a larger picture, and Steve gets his first good look at the man’s beautiful face. Deep, chocolate eyes that house a delighted sparkle, a blinding smile that sets loose a swarm of butterflies in Steve’s stomach. Not to mention the piercings; two just below his lower lip and another through his eyebrow - Steve briefly wonders if he has more, maybe his tongue or his nipples - fuck, that would be so hot.
In the last photo the man is seated on a couch, holding an acoustic guitar this time, and he seems focused on whatever he’s playing, clearly unaware of the camera-person at all. Those brown curls are pulled into an updo, revealing ears littered with even more silver jewelry, and there’s a cute little crinkle between his brows that Steve wants to smooth out with his thumb.
Steve scrolls down to actually read the guy’s profile, and sees that his name is Eddie. He’s 27 and local to the area, he likes metal music and D&D, and he definitely seems to check a lot of Steve’s boxes. Nerdy? Yeah. Hot? Fuck yeah. Confident? If the concert photo is anything to go by, this man has confidence coming out his ass. So yeah, check there too. 
He adds the guy without hesitation, and will once again blame Tequila Steve for what’s next once he’s sober. He sends Eddie a message.
‘Hi, i’m straight, i literally just got this app cause im kinda bord and kinda drunk. But you’re actually my type. Can I be honest?’
Steve doesn’t really expect an immediate response, considering that it’s two in the morning and all, so he decides to flip over to a different app, already knowing that he isn’t really going to care about anyone else he might come across. He’s surprised when only a couple of minutes later, he gets back a simple ‘Sure lmao’, and scrambles to flip back over to the messenger.
‘I didint think i’d message anyone on here but your cute and hnestly i geuss i kinda like that you won’t get pregnant.’
He decides to wait this time, to see if he’ll get another quick response, and he holds his breath when the typing indicator pops up, only to disappear again. It does this a couple of times, like Eddie is writing and pausing, or erasing and starting over, and Steve just waits, so curious to know what the other man is going to say.
‘Are you free tomorrow? I need to know if you’re as adorably endearing when you’re sober.’
Steve gasps in delight. Eddie wants to meet him! He kicks his feet a little in excitement and messages back ‘I can be as endering as you want me to be baby.’ It takes him a second to realize he hadn’t actually answered Eddie’s question, and he sends a follow up ‘Yes i am free tomorow.’
‘Meet me at Hank’s on 6th? 7pm?’
He confirms the time and place, and even as giddy as he is, Steve’s barely able to exchange a few more messages before he’s out like a light.
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Steve wakes up the next morning with a headache. It’s nowhere near the level of one of his migraines, but it’s enough to be annoying as he gets up and starts his day. He’s thankful it’s Saturday, that all he really has to worry about are some errands and brunch with Robin.
A quick shower and a cup of coffee has him feeling more alive, but meeting up with Robin makes him feel better than anything else could. She looks about as bad as he does, which is interesting considering that she didn’t even come with him to the club last night. 
They chatter on for a while, with Steve letting her rant again about the situation she finds herself in (she refuses to drop Vickie even though the girl bounces between her on-again-off-again boyfriend and Robin like a fucking ping pong ball, and she also refuses to admit her growing feelings for Chrissy, her roommate turned friend with benefits. It’s a whole mess.)
She asks about his own dating life, and he honestly has nothing new to report. He’d gone out last night intending to at least find someone to take home, but once he actually got into the scene, the effort just didn’t seem worth it for a temporary fix. 
Instead he drank, and he danced with strangers until the room started to spin, and then he made his way home. He’d had fun, even though he'd ended his night alone. Robin hums and pours another drink from the pitcher between them - White Peach Sangria this week, and it’s good, though Steve prefers the Bloody Mary they had last time. 
“We're kind of pathetic, huh?”
“I mean, you are,” Steve replies, and shrugs when she gives an affronted Hey! “I might be single, but you're the one who's letting a great girl slip through your fingers because you can’t say no to your fickle ex.”
“She’s not fickle-”
“Where was she last night?” Steve asks, staring Robin down until she says “With me.”
“Mhm. And where is she now?”
Robin frowns hard and grumbles “With Jack.” 
Steve gives her a look, and she sinks down a little in her seat. 
“You know, sometimes I forget that you were friends with the mean girls in high school, and then you hit me with that fucking Carol Perkins face and it all comes flooding back,” she says, and Steve rolls his eyes. 
“Stop being a drama queen, and stop waiting for Vickie to change her mind about Jack. It’s not fair for her to come running to you every time they have a fight if she has no intention of actually leaving him for you. You deserve better, Rob.”
Robin groans and drains the last of her glass. “When did you get so wise and shit?”
“Fuck you,” Steve says, no heat behind it as he kicks her under the table. “I know how relationships work and shit. You’re the one who doesn’t listen to me.”
She kicks him back with a “Yeah, yeah. Come on, let’s finish this pitcher so I can go home and wallow.”
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The notification comes in after brunch, once he and Robin have parted ways and Steve’s just parked at the grocery store (he doesn’t take Robin with him to the store anymore, for both of their sakes). 
‘Hey, just want to make sure we’re still good for tonight?’
Tonight? What’s tonight?
It takes him a moment to remember his actions from the night before, to remember the app. Steve’s stomach flips at the vague memory of a conversation and he opens the messenger. He scrolls up, reading his message history with this Eddie person, and oh god. 
Is it possible to get secondhand embarrassment from your own actions? Your very drunk and somewhat horny actions? The guy seemed to take it pretty well, at least, and Steve taps over to his profile out of curiosity.
And yeah, okay, Tequila Steve had a point. He’s never thought about dating a guy before, but this man is hot, just absolutely sexy in a way Sober Steve isn’t prepared for. He had been planning on telling this Eddie guy that he was drunk when he agreed to meet, that he wasn’t interested, but now that would be a lie. Because he’s definitely interested.
He sends a ‘Yup! Still good :)’ and then quickly follows it with ‘I was so drunk last night that I kind of forgot about our conversation, so I’m glad you messaged me!’
Eddie’s reply takes a second, that starting and stopping going on just long enough to make Steve nervous before a message comes through. 
‘Oh damn! I’m glad I did too. Though you did tell me last night that you’re straight, so I won’t hold it against you if you don’t want to meet anymore. I know alcohol can make us do things we normally wouldn’t.’
Oh, he’s sweet. Steve actually does decide to think about it, and flips back over to Eddie’s profile as he does. He goes through the photos again, imagines what it would be like to be close, be intimate with Eddie the way he has with women. It doesn’t scare him the way he thinks it should, because he doesn’t actually think it would be that different. Sex is just sex, right? It’s the person that makes it fun, makes it special. And Eddie definitely seems like a special one.
What reaffirms Steve’s decision is the last photo, where Eddie is holding the acoustic. His eyes catch again on those ringed fingers, on the rough, clearly hand cut neckline of Eddie’s shirt. He thinks about what it would be like to lick the jut of Eddie’s exposed collar bone, and the shiver that runs down his spine has him immediately flipping back to the conversation.
‘I definitely still want to meet. As embarrassing as I was last night, I was telling the truth.’
‘Oh good! Nice to know that sober Steve also thinks I’m cute and is glad I can’t get pregnant.’
Steve groans and drops his head onto the steering wheel a few times. He's never gonna live that one down, is he?
Another message comes through before he can be too mortified, though he almost regrets looking when he sees ‘Unless sober Steve is more upset by that than glad’ which is followed rapidly by ‘It’s okay baby, we can always pretend if you want ;)’
This man is gonna fucking kill Steve.
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Hank's on 6th is a little dive bar that Steve has actually been to a few times, when he and Robin had wanted to go drinking but hadn’t wanted to deal with the noise and bustle of the club. It’s cozy compared to other bars in the area, and Steve is happy for the familiarity of the location as he steps inside. He pauses inside the door and glances around, looking for- oh.
Sitting at a nearby table is Eddie, in the flesh. He’s even more stunning in person, with his hair pulled up into a bun, showing off the jewelry in his ears and the long line of his neck. He’s wearing a dark t-shirt and jeans, and Steve can see a leather jacket slung over the back of his chair.
Eddie spots Steve about the same time and waves, inviting him over. He does his own once-over as Steve approaches, and Steve knows what he looks like. He spent long enough in front of the mirror agonizing over his appearance, making sure everything was perfect. His red sweater is comfortable even though it’s a smidge too small, and he can see Eddie’s eyes catch on the way it stretches across his shoulders, on his forearms where he’s rolled the sleeves up. 
“Not gonna lie,” Eddie says as Steve sits down. “I’m kind of surprised you showed up.”
“I said I would. Tequila Steve might not be the smartest, but sometimes he has good ideas.”
Eddie laughs and Steve is overwhelmed with the desire to dig his thumb into the dimple that appears in the man’s cheek. “Well I hope I get the chance to thank him someday.”
Eddie’s photos don’t do him justice, don’t properly convey the energy he has. They get on better than Steve would have imagined, and while the conversation lulls every now and then, it never truly stops. His piercings catch the light, pulling Steve's attention down to his mouth, to the way it moves while Eddie speaks. It’s distracting, and the teasing smile Eddie wears for the conversation tells Steve that he knows.
Steve learns that Eddie works at an assisted living facility, something he never would have guessed based on the man’s appearance. It’s not a job Eddie ever expected to have, but he loves it, loves helping people who need it and gossiping with the old biddies that have taken a shine to him. In exchange Steve talks about his job as a physical therapist, how he recently started his experiential hours so he can specialize in pediatrics. 
(“I feel kind of dumb now,” Eddie says. “Knowing that you’re a whole ass doctor and I just have a CNA.”
“Eddie, I majored in kinesiology. You’re probably better in a medical setting than I ever will be.”)
They talk about their hobbies and interests, pleased to learn there’s a little bit of crossover with everything. They may not know the ins and outs, but Steve has absorbed some knowledge on D&D thanks to the kids he used to babysit, and Eddie likes to watch sports with his uncle to keep him company on his off days.
They sit and talk for a long while, completely unaware of the time passing until Steve looks at his watch and realizes it’s been nearly four hours since they sat down. 
“Holy shit, it’s almost eleven,” he says, and Eddie blinks in surprise. “Oh wow, I had no idea.” 
It’s like they’ve been snapped back into reality, and Steve notices the half dozen beer bottles littering their table along with the bill that’s been there for who knows how long. Steve pays the check - nearly shoves his card into the server’s hand so he can beat Eddie to it - and they both leave cash for the tip before heading out of the bar.
It’s outside Hank’s that the hesitation sets in. This is one of the best dates Steve has been on in a long, long time, and he really isn’t ready for it to be over. He thinks Eddie feels the same, if the way he reaches over to thread their fingers together means anything.
“Do you want to come back to my place?” Steve asks, practically on impulse, and Eddie smiles.
“I would love to, Stevie.” He takes a breath like he wants to say something else, but pauses, and Steve squeezes his hand gently.
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m trying to figure out how to tell you that I want to have sex with you without sounding like a slut who puts out on the first date.”
Well, that’s fair. Steve doesn’t usually have sex on the first date either. He likes the connection that comes with knowing someone emotionally before learning them physically, but there’s just something about Eddie. Steve feels like he knows the man inside and out after just four hours together, and he knows it’s fast but he wonders what it would feel like to wake up next to him in the morning. 
Steve just grins at the blunt honesty and tugs Eddie closer. “If you’re a slut then so am I, because I’m definitely down for that.” 
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The drive back to Steve’s place doesn’t take long, and before he knows it he’s locking the door behind them as Eddie sheds his leather jacket. He drapes it over the back of the couch as he looks around, taking in Steve’s apartment. It’s not much, but it’s comfortable, cozy, very different from the sterile house Steve grew up in.
Eddie smiles as he sees the trinkets dotted about, a mix of gifts from the kids Steve used to babysit and his own little knick knacks, but pauses when he sees a photo collage of Steve and Robin on the nearby wall. Steve doesn’t like the way his smile dips down into a frown, and he walks over to wrap his arm around Eddie’s waist.
“That’s Robin,” he says as he pulls Eddie into his side, needing to quell any doubts or misconceptions he might be having. “She’s my best friend in the entire world, and a lesbian, so you can stop pouting now.”
Eddie gives him a bit of a side-eye and says “Not pouting. Just want to make sure you’re not doing this behind the back of an unsuspecting girlfriend or something.”
Steve smiles at the consideration and shakes his head as he turns Eddie to face him. “No girl, Eds, I promise. Just you and me.”
Something about that seems to be the final straw for Eddie because he surges forward, hands landing on Steve's neck as he leans up to press their mouths together.
The first kiss with Eddie is easy. It’s not earth-shattering or life changing, not like Steve thought it would be kissing a man for the first time. It feels like a normal kiss, and honestly that’s more of a comfort to Steve than anything. The fact that it’s Eddie on the other side of the kiss is what makes him shudder, makes him press closer. 
Eddie’s hands push up into his hair, messing up the styling as Steve dips his head to kiss along his jaw. He hums into smooth skin and slides his own hands down to Eddie’s ass, squeezing it briefly before using his grip to drag Eddie’s hips against his own.
He can feel the line of Eddie’s dick through the layers of denim and yeah, that’s different, but not bad at all. Steve warms up to it pretty quickly actually, especially once Eddie starts moaning into his ear, a low “Fuck, baby,” that only encourages Steve to continue. Their mouths meet in another kiss as Steve grinds their hips together, each thrust working to drive Steve absolutely insane.
Eddie’s hands eventually make their way south to ruck up Steve’s sweater, and he breaks the kiss just enough to mutter “Off, get this off,” against Steve's mouth.
Steve laughs but steps back, pulls off his top and drops it carelessly to the floor. Eddie groans and reaches out, not even hesitating before he pushes his hands into Steve’s chest hair. “God, I’ve been wanting to do that since I saw your photo last night,” he mutters, and it takes Steve a moment to remember the picture he’d drunkenly added to his profile. 
It was just a typical shirtless thirst shot he’d taken before a run one day (though he had put a shirt on before he actually left, thank you), because he’d felt good about the way he looked - and clearly Eddie had appreciated the picture as well. Steve shudders as Eddie scrapes his nails down his chest, and he half-expects Eddie to start purring in delight. 
“Is it as good as you imagined?” he asks, biting back a chuckle, and Eddie nods. 
“Better than. So fuckin’ hot. Don't ever shave it, I beg you.”
Steve does laugh at that. He lets Eddie get his fill for a moment before swooping in to kiss him again. He slips his fingers into Eddie’s belt loops and mutters a “Bed?” against his mouth. Eddie hums in agreement and Steve tugs him along, guiding him to the bedroom and only stopping once to grind their hips together.  
He steps back enough to pull off Eddie’s shirt and groans because his nipples are pierced, and fuck if that isn’t doing something for Steve. Thumbing over one makes Eddie shiver and gasp, and he knows that he needs to get his mouth on them as soon as possible. He feels like a predator as he pushes Eddie back, not stopping until the man is sprawled across his bed, a beautiful feast meant just for him.
Steve crawls on top of Eddie and presses his lips to the spider decorating his shoulder before moving down to lick over his nipple. Eddie shudders and pushes his hands into Steve's hair, holding him in place as Steve seals his mouth around the pink bud. The piercing is warm, and the stark contrast between metal and flesh has Steve groaning into Eddie's skin.
He sucks on it, earning a stuttering moan from the man under him and hands tightening in his hair. “Fu-uck, Stevie.” Steve thumbs over the other nipple and pinches it just to hear him gasp again, before continuing his journey southwards, pressing kisses into the tattoos he comes across along the way. He pauses for a moment to suck a bruise into Eddie’s hip, just above his waistband, and the man is practically squirming.
“God, when I agreed to come over, I didn’t think you were gonna be this much of a tease.”
Steve rolls his eyes and bites into the bruise he just created, pulling a low groan from Eddie. “It’s called foreplay, you ass.”
“I’d rather you foreplay my ass,” Eddie mutters, and Steve laughs into smooth skin. He does concede, though, and pulls back so he can slide off Eddie’s jeans and underwear, discarding them to the floor. Eddie’s dick is pretty, a smidge thinner than his own but just as long, and weeping heavily from the pink tip. Steve wants to touch it, taste it, wants to feel the weight of it on his tongue as Eddie fucks his mouth.
“Feel free to touch it, not just look at it,” Eddie says, and Steve smirks. 
“Normally I would, but someone wanted me to skip the foreplay.”
Eddie groans dramatically in response and Steve ignores him as he reaches over into the nightstand to grab the lube and a condom. He drops the items next to Eddie, and the man gives an “Oh shit!” as he grabs the tube. “You actually have lube?” 
“Uh, I'm a grown man, Eddie. Not some 15-year-old that still uses lotion to jack off.”
Eddie rolls his eyes and smacks the bottle against Steve's chest. “Twenty-four hours ago you told me you were straight, excuse me for making some assumptions.”
“Stereotypical assumptions,” Steve tacks on and Eddie rolls his eyes again harder. “Also you might be surprised to learn this, but some women also enjoy anal, so I'm not actually a complete newbie when it comes to this.”
“And here I was thinking I'd have to hold your hand through the whole thing.”
Steve huffs a laugh and slicks up his fingers. “Oh, do you not want to hold hands while I fuck you into the mattress?”
Eddie gasps and brings a hand to his forehead, like a mockery of some swooning maiden as he says “Why Stevie, I think that's the most romantic thing you've said so- ohhh my god.” He groans as Steve pushes the finger deeper, and kicks his shoulder gently when Steve just grins.
“Shut the fuck up,” Eddie spits, but Steve can tell there's no real heat behind it. He just hums, says “I dunno what you're talking about,” as he slides a second in alongside the first. He hooks his free hand under Eddie’s knee and pushes it closer to his chest, exposing him a bit more. 
Steve leans down to press a kiss to Eddie’s neglected dick and curls his fingers at the same time, trying to hit Eddie’s prostate. He knows he’s successful when hands jerk down, sinking into his hair once more as Eddie keens.
“Shit, Stevie-!” 
“Wanna suck you off next time. Wanna pin your hips to the bed and see how much I can take, wanna tease you until you come on my face, in my mouth.”
Eddie shudders and nods, bucks his hips as best he can with Steve’s fingers in him. “Oh fuck, yes. Gonna let me paint your face, baby? Gonna let me be the first cock to fuck that pretty mouth?”
Steve groans a “Fuck yeah, Eds,” and pushes in a third finger, eager to finish his prep but not wanting to rush. He spreads his fingers wide as he leans in again, sinking his teeth into the junction where thigh meets groin, and Eddie's entire body jerks at the bit of pain.
He tugs at Steve's hair, trying to pull him up as he says “Fuck! That's gotta be good enough, need you in me fucking last week, sweetheart.”
Steve shudders and nods with a “Yeah, baby,” as he pulls his fingers free. He stands up and strips off his remaining clothes, not worrying about where they land before he climbs back between Eddie's legs. He can feel Eddie watching as he rolls on the condom, and he's about to make a remark about it when the man says “You know what kind of sucks?”
Steve just hums in response as he scoots closer, until his thighs are pressed against Eddie's ass and all he has to do is push forward just a little more-
“That we’ll have to get tested before we can put my ability to not get pregnant to good use.”
A groan rips through Steve and he drops his head back at the mental image that creates. “Fuck, you can’t just say that.”
Eddie grins, all Cheshire and taunting as he says “Oh, I can’t? I can’t tell you how excited I am for you to come in me, to fill up my ass until I’m fucking leaking- mmh!”
Steve dives down to shut him up with a kiss before he can say anything else, and he can feel Eddie laughing into it. Arms wrap around Steve’s shoulders, holding him close as they take a moment to just make out, all slick and languid like they're not both on the verge of desperation. Steve wraps a hand around his dick and blindly rubs the head against Eddie’s hole before he finally pushes forward.
Even after prep, Eddie is tight, and Steve groans as he slowly sinks in, not stopping until his hips are flush with Eddie’s ass. He rubs his hands over Eddie’s sides as he just waits there, giving the man a chance to adjust. It only takes a moment before Eddie gives a soft “Okay, I'm good,” and Steve holds good on his word. He leans forward, lacing his fingers with Eddie's and pressing them into the bed as he starts a slow pace.
Eddie goes all starry-eyed as he glances at their joined hands, and mutters “Didn't think you were serious about that.”
“I don't joke about hand holding, Eds. It's very important.” That pulls a soft laugh from Eddie and Steve leans closer until he can kiss that smile, can taste the laugh at its source.
It's hands down the best sex Steve has ever had. Eddie is so responsive, all noisy and twitchy and eager. He quickly figures out what Steve likes and doesn't even attempt to keep his mouth shut, just offers a stream of encouragement that’s only broken when Steve finds and abuses that sweet spot inside him.
“Right there, Eddie? Is that it, baby?”
“Uh-huh, fuck, so good!”
Eddie's a fucking vision, with his brown curls slowly escaping the confines of the bun and his eyes glazed over in pleasure. Steve releases Eddie's hands and slides his own down to clutch at the man's slim waist, his fingers digging into the tattoos decorating his skin. He fantasizes about leaving bruises, about leaving his own mark alongside the black ink and fucks into him harder at just the idea. 
“Shit, Stevie! Gonna come, gonna-”
Eddie gets a hand around his dick and barely gets in a few strokes before he’s coming, a loud “Fuckfuckfuck!” escaping him as he spills over his hand and onto his stomach. It’s so fucking hot, and Steve’s hands tighten around Eddie's waist at the sight. His thrusts are a bit wild as he chases his own orgasm, and all it takes is Eddie's reedy “In me, Steve, give it to me-” before it hits him like a fucking truck. 
He doesn't remember the last time he came this hard, his hips grinding against Eddie's ass as he fills the condom before eventually collapsing down onto the other man. They just lay there for a moment, waiting for their highs to settle and their breathing to return to normal, and Steve smiles when Eddie starts to giggle.
“What's that about?” he asks, using the opportunity to press a few kisses along the line of Eddie's shoulder and neck. The man just grins and shakes his head.
“I haven't bottomed in like- three years. Forgot how good it feels.”
That surprises Steve a bit, actually. “Three years? And you just break that streak for some random person you met on the internet?”
“Mhm. You sent me those messages and I was like ‘Wow, I can't believe I'm gonna let this guy fuck me’.”
Steve laughs and nips at Eddie's shoulder. After a few minutes he carefully pulls out and reluctantly leaves Eddie on the bed as he goes to the bathroom to trash the condom and grab a wet hand towel. He cleans Eddie up before tossing the cloth to the floor and laying down beside him. He's instantly wrapped up in Eddie's arms and he sighs happily as they huddle close together.
“Stay the night? I'll make you breakfast in the morning,” Steve offers, and Eddie hums into his temple. 
“With coffee?”
“With coffee.”
Another hum before Eddie nuzzles into his hair, and Steve can feel Eddie press a kiss to the crown of his head. “Then I'd love to stay the night, Stevie.”
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Steve wakes up slowly the next morning. The sun shining through the window bathes the room in golden light, making Eddie look ethereal where he lays curled into Steve’s side. He takes a moment to just watch the man, to admire the relaxed lines of Eddie’s face as he slumbers on, unaware.
He doesn’t know the last time he felt a connection with someone this- profound. 
Actually, no - the last time this happened was probably with Robin, the girl who became something closer to him than a sister, the one person who probably knows him better than he knows himself. Being with Eddie feels so similar to those early days with Robin - after they’d gotten locked in the bathroom during a mall fire, not the actual early days when Robin seemingly hated him.
So Steve knows deep in his soul that there’s something about Eddie. Something so special ingrained into his very existence, and Steve’s sure that, if he just gives it a chance, Eddie could change his life.
After a few more minutes of basking in the morning silence, he tries to slip out of bed without waking Eddie, but he knows he’s failed when the arms just tighten around him. Eddie groans out a “Noooo,” and Steve grins. He presses a kiss to Eddie’s hair and says “Gotta let me go if you want me to make your coffee.”
A muffled “Man of my dreams,” as Eddie releases him has Steve chuckling as he climbs out of bed. He throws on a pair of sweatpants and heads downstairs, and puts on some coffee before he does anything else. By the time Eddie joins him, dressed only in his boxers from the night before, the coffee is ready and Steve is stacking pancakes onto a couple of plates. 
Eddie seems more awake as he wraps his arms around Steve, pressing a quick kiss to his shoulder along with a soft “Morning, sweetheart.”
“Morning, baby. Coffee’s on the counter, sugar’s in the jar and milk is in the fridge if you want it.”
Another kiss meets his skin, this one just below his ear, before Eddie is pulling away. Steve finishes plating the pancakes while Eddie makes his coffee, and they converge at the kitchen island. They eat mostly in silence, but it's not uncomfortable. It's easy, actually, to let the quiet settle around them like a warm blanket. But that doesn't mean Steve's thoughts aren't racing.
“So, uh.” Steve pauses, feels almost bashful as he looks up at Eddie. “It's been a really, really long time since I've felt a connection like this, and I may be a little dumb, but I'm not an idiot.” Eddie frowns at Steve's little self deprecating dig, but doesn't say anything as he continues. “I really want to see where this goes, if you're up for it.”
A slow grin breaks out on Eddie's face and he leans in, getting into Steve's personal space. “Why Stevie. Are you asking me to be your boyfriend? After only one date?”
Steve huffs a laugh and slides a hand up to the base of Eddie's neck, feeling and tangling his fingers with the soft hair there. “I’d ask you right now to move in if it wouldn't make me look fucking insane.”
Eddie's expression instantly goes slack with shock, and fuck, Steve's done it again, hasn't he? Said too much, too soon, and lost something good before it even had a chance to go anywhere. He starts to pull away, wanting to give Eddie some space, but he's stopped by two hands settling on his waist, practically clutching the bare skin.
“My lease is up for renewal in three months,” Eddie says, and Steve blinks in surprise. “So maybe at that point we can see where we are? Because you're right. I don't think I've ever just clicked with someone like this before. It feels like- like fucking destiny or something. And I also really, really want to see where this goes.”
Steve gives in to the urge to pull Eddie forward into a kiss. It’s intense and passionate and a bit sticky, the maple syrup making their lips tacky and causing Eddie to giggle into Steve's mouth.
They’re interrupted by the sound of Steve’s phone ringing with a video call, and he knows who it is before he even looks at the device. He answers with a “Morning, Robin,” and is met with a manic “You’ll never guess what happened this morning!”
“I would hope something with Chrissy, but I’m guessing it’s something with Vickie-”
“Vickie called! Jack fucking proposed to her last night!”
Oh shit. “And she said..?”
“They’re on good terms right now, so of course she said yes!”
Steve takes a sip of coffee and hums. “Sounds like it’s time for you to put on some big girl panties and ask Chrissy out on a real date.”
“Steven, you know I hate that word.”
“I will record it and set it as your ringtone if you don’t make some kind of move, Robin. Before Chrissy gets tired of waiting for you to make a decision and makes one herself.”
She groans pathetically and Steve watches her scrub a hand over her face. “I hate it when you make sense. Can we stop talking about me, please? Distract me with something else.”
“Oh, well, uh,” Steve glances up at Eddie who has been watching the interaction with an amused smile. His heart swells with affection and he blurts out “I have a boyfriend.”
Eddie beams at him as Robin blinks, most likely processing before she says “You just told me yesterday that your dating life was practically nonexistent, and now you have a boyfriend? How did that happen?? And moreover, how long have you liked men??”
She sounds incredulous - rightfully so, honestly - and Steve shrugs. “At least twenty-four hours, but it could realistically be closer to something like thirty-six. I downloaded a dating app the night before last and met Eddie on it. We went on a date last night, he stayed over, and I asked him to be my boyfriend this morning.”
“You asked me to move in this morning,” Eddie says, and Robin must catch it because she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. 
“You’re gonna put every U-haul lesbian in this city to shame,” she mutters before looking at Steve again. “Are you not like- freaking out? I mean, in the near decade I’ve known you, you’ve only dated girls, and now you’re dating a guy? Just like that?”
Steve shrugs and reaches out to take one of Eddie’s hands. “I guess so. You know I’ve always been a roll with the punches kinda guy. And Eddie is- Special. He’s special.”
Eddie is looking at him with those big, brown eyes, wide and a bit awestruck, and Steve can’t resist reeling him close for a quick kiss.
“I am so happy for you,” Robin says, pulling Steve’s attention back to his phone, “but also incredibly upset because now I know I have to follow your advice about Chrissy. Which is just absolutely terrifying.”
“You should have been listening from the beginning. Seriously though, go get your girl, Rob. You deserve to be happy.”
They say their goodbyes after another moment and Steve focuses back on Eddie. “Did you have anything to do today?” he asks as he collects their empty plates and takes them to the sink. Eddie follows, draining the last of his coffee before he replies “Not today. Why, did you have something to do?”
Steve grins and takes Eddie’s mug, setting it on the counter before he scoops the man into his arms. “Other than you?”
Eddie barks a laugh at the line and shakes his head fondly. “Jesus Christ, how did I get my hands on such a dork?”
“Just lucky, I guess,” Steve replies, and tugs Eddie into another sticky kiss. 
Much love to @bramble-berries for brainstorming this with me! (Even if she didn't know it at the time lol.) Also thank you to @sidekick-hero for cheerleading me through the last bit of writing on this! You're an absolute dear! <3
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kithtaehyung · 1 year ago
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seven days (m) (teaser) | jjk
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POSTED HERE JULY 22ND, 2023!!  upcoming series: seven days (m)  pairing: fuckboy!jungkook x reader(f) genre/rating: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; roommates to lovers au  summary: you dump yet another guy that wasn’t up to your “ten day standards,” which leaves your cocky ass, very off-limits roommate to tease your single status yet again. but the teasing is always expected. what’s not expected, is the bet that you make without thinking. the bet that even though you give ten days, he wouldn’t even last seven. warnings: cursing, alcohol/vape mentions, parties, he wears glasses sometimes😔👍, chains bc it’s tradition atp lmaooo, cocky!jk, feelings🤕, big big big jk, flirty!jk, baddie!reader😌, multiple explicit scenes🫠, jk constantly in grey sweatpants and nothing else :))), full lists to be revealed each chapter! notes: …so this song called seven dropped and— notes 2: but really there was a fic that had been in the wips for a minute, and i just so happened to have a burst of energy to expand on it so here we are! making it a series to allow myself time to dedicate meaningful energy to each scene and not rush them💕 est. chapters: prologue | mon | tue | wed | thurs | fri | sat | sun | seven days est. running dates: july-september 2023 taglist: sign up here (i check every entry so read the rules!) teaser: below the cut if you want a taste 🩵
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“Sure did,” Jungkook puffs before stepping away, taking all the tight space with him and letting you breathe again. “But all I’m saying is, you gotta lower your standards or—” 
“No.”
“Or,” he continues, giving you a look, “Not complain if they’re too high.” 
“Well, thank you.” With your nose grazing the sky, you point out, “I’d like to think they’re just right.” 
“What even are they anyway? All you’ve said is something about ten days.”
“That’s basically it,” you murmur, resting your arms on the island as to not have your chest in full view. “If I still like someone after ten days, I know I’d be fine dating them for real.” 
There’s silence when you finish. When you finally look, the gawk you’re getting in return almost makes you laugh. “What?”
“You mean those days are only a trial run?” 
You do break into laughter this time, burying your face in slight shyness. “And what about it!” 
“Are you serious—?” Jungkook rounds the island so that he can speak directly at your hidden features. “Has anyone even gotten past all ten with you?”
You pause, breath fanning the granite top beneath you and wisping around your face. When you lift your gaze above your arms, you keep it trained on the countertop instead of his curiosity, 
“No.” 
He doesn’t say a word. 
“Not since my standards changed.” 
And you think that’s the end of this conversation. Because what else is there to say? You know your expectations are impossible but you think this is a hell of a lot better than—
“I could do it.” 
“What.” A glare is shot. “Absolutely not.” 
“Why not?”
“You? No.” You shake your head. “You wouldn’t even last seven.” 
“Try me,” he challenges, and you still can’t take him seriously despite the fire in his eyes. “I’ve lasted a lot more than that as your roommate, right?” 
“But that’s—this is—this is different! Be for real, Kook.” You vacate the island and head to your room, having enough of his teasing for one morning. 
But you get stopped at the doorway, a bare chest and chains blocking your vision and sending your mind into a frenzy. When you flick your gaze to his face, he simply says, with the straightest expression,
“I am.”
--
--
--
tbc. :))
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🦋 soooo how do we feel !! | wanna be tagged? 🩵
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a/n: yeah idk what happened to me. one moment i was saying i wasn't gonna get bitten by the seven bug, and the next.. well. this happened lol. anyway! taglist is on a form so that i can easily keep track of who to tag. pls make sure to either tell me ur age in the survey or to have it on your blog bc i check all entries when tagging. prologue is already written and will be up soon! ++ ⇥ masterlist
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apute11as · 1 year ago
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Everything happens for a reason ~ Alexia putellas x reader
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Author note: The poll was close but I’ve decided to do it as parts as it’s easier for me to get regular smaller posts out with my work and things but I hope you enjoy❤️
⚠️ suggestive themes, slight smut, pregnancy, failed ivf mentions
——
The sun light pierced your blinds, bathing your room in a gentle yellow glow. As your eyes fluttered open, you were met with the beautiful site of your wife’s naked, tattooed back asleep next to you. You knew she’d be tired, as were you after your late night activities that went on into the early hours of the morning, needing to make the most of your time together before a gruelling 2 months likely without seeing each other at all.
You admired the woman next to you, and the way that the light made her tanned skin look ethereal. Tucking the loose strands of hair behind her ears, you pressed a light kiss to her cheek but as you went to bend back up, you felt an unusual lurch in your stomach. Rising immediately, you went to empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet bowl. After gagging for a couple of seconds, you felt a warm hand on your shoulder, one that surely belonged to your girlfriend.
“¿estas bien mi amor?” she questioned with a soft look of concern present on her features.
“Si carino estoy bien I think it’s just nerves because of how soon the World Cup is and the pressure that I’m going to be under.” you replied patting her hand that rested on your shoulder.
“Ok if you’re sure let’s get some water” she exclaimed, offering her hand and using her other to lift you by the hips.
As you entered the kitchen, she quickly made you water and a warm cup of coffee which seemed to work pretty well to soothe your aching stomach, a sure sign that this wasn’t a bug but simply nerves.
——
A couple of hours passed and you were feeling almost completely better which definitely helped in reducing your girlfriend’s anxiety. She had helped you with all the finishing touches to packing your bag so that you were now completely ready to go to the airport. Despite the original plan being for you to get a taxi to the airport, after this morning Alexia insisted she drive you in her car, claiming that she could easily divert her taxi to take her to her camp from the airport. After a large discussion, filled with many kisses, you finally agreed.
You planned to leave at 8am but it was currently 7:30 so with half an hour to spare the two of you were cuddled up on the sofa, with Nala settled asleep across both of your laps.
“I’m going to miss you so much amor” alexia whispered into your neck, tightening her grip around you.
“I’ll miss you too Ale, but I’ll see you in the final, when we both get there” you replied, kissing her cheek.
“Hmm” she hummed into you, her hands creeping up your jumper and onto the bare skin beneath it.
“what do you think you’re doing love” you giggled as her cold hands made contact with your exposed midsection.
“Mmm gonna miss you so much” she mumbled as she pulled you into her further, startling poor Nala who preceded to fall into the rug, showing her annoyance with a small bark. At this point, you were now straddling her hips, and she was leaving open mouth kisses on your neck on the marks she’d left last night. She then carefully slotted her thigh in between your legs, trying to make contact though the layers of fabric between her legs and your pussy.
“Ale I need to get ready to go soon or else I’ll miss my check in.” You reminded her but she seemed unfazed as her hand reached your breasts and began to massage them. You moaned as she reached your nipples, allowing her to keep going despite the more logical side to you saying no. However, you draw the line when her hands reach down into your sweatpants to touch your pussy. “Alexia putellas segura you are like a teenage boy are you always horny?” you questioned, whilst simultaneously trying to escape her newfound grip on your hips.
“No I just love you so much bebita and I’m going to miss you and these” she said groping your breasts again.
“Ale stop it I mean it we have to go” you say sternly, finally managing to escape her grasp.
“Fine” she huffed like a child being scolded by their parent. She made a move to stand up but not before giving your ass a smack as she shuffled past you.
“You little-“ you remarked as you began to chase her, Nala joining in with her mami’s playing.
After a painful 15 minutes of Alexia touching you in anyway she can, you finally made it to the car with all of your stuff and Alexia of course opting to carry as much of your stuff as humanly possible, the princess treatment ever present as always. And of course once you had begun your journey, Alexia had placed her hand on your thigh for the entire 30 minutes.
Once you finally reached your destination of the airport, Alexia parked up her Cupra and promptly strolled around the other side of the car to open the door and offer her hand to you so you could get out. Hand in hand, you both ventured to the car trunk to collect your bags, and of course Alexia carried as much as possible; ever the gentlewoman.
So you walked over to the airport hand in hand. After unloading your stuff into the baggage section, it was time to say goodbye to your girlfriend for the next two months. What you hadn’t expected was for the tears to form in your eyes so easily.
“Amor are you crying” alexia asked, her eyes slightly glassy too.
“Yes sorry my love” you responded, letting the tears fall without restraint now as she held you tight in her arms, just had she had after every failed IVF attempt.
“Don’t be sorry I’m just shocked you don’t normally get this emotional I’ll see you soon I promise cariño” she stated with a pitiful smile.
“I think I’m just having one of those days my love I’m really going to miss you” you replied
“And I you guapa” she smiled.
With one last hug, the two of you parted ways and you headed to security and baggage check, boarding pass in hand and unsettling feeling in your stomach.
Once you boarded the plane, you quickly found your seat, it was next to a woman and a small child. Placing your stuff in the overhead storage, you sat down by the window staring into abyss. Around 20 minutes into the flight, the unease in your stomach returned and you suddenly felt bile begin to rise up in your throat. Noticing your discomfort, the woman next to you spoke up.
“are you alright love” she questioned with a maternal glint in her eyes.
“Oh- yes sorry just feeling a bit ill” you replied hesitantly.
“would you like travel sickness tablets?” She asked with a smile.
“Oh no thank you I don’t usually get travel sick” you assured her.
“Well haha I thought the same until I was pregnant with this one here” she said pointing at the toddler asleep next to her.
“I was great with travelling but then I just started to feel sick every time I entered a moving vehicle” she chuckled.
“Oh wow I’m sure I’m not pregnant though” you offered weakly.
“Probably but you never know” she rebounded.
“Actually I took a test the other week we were trying for a while, but after the last negative we’ve decided to give it a break” you replied with a hint of sadness.
“Ah I see but those box tests aren’t always correct, I’m sorry if I’m overstepping here but given what you’ve told me maybe it’s worth taking another” she professed.
“Maybe” you said weakly, offering a small smile.
Throughout the journey your thoughts spiralled, what if you were pregnant and the test had been wrong? How would you explain this to your coaches, to Alexia? The sickness persisted, you excused yourself to the bathroom once or twice, but nothing but dry heaving occurred. The likely reality of your predicament began to settle in and what felt like an extensive flight, despite the fact it was only 2 hours, the plane touched town in rainy England and as you stepped out of the plane, all that you felt was dread.
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exceptional-z · 6 months ago
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zed necrodopolis x reader
this is an au where zombies were never allowed to go to human high school. so zed is aged up (though age is never mentioned so you can imagine whatever) but has never been on the other side of the barrier. i attempted not to use gendered language but i tend to write with fem!reader in mind.
also please ignore any inconsistent verb tenses. english is not my first language and verb tenses are literally the bane of my existence. + i wrote this in like an hour
your family didn’t have much money growing up, hence why you lived so close to the gate. real estate was cheap since no one wanted to live near the zombies. but it also meant you learnt how to save money in as many ways as you could.
seabrook was all about perfection. if a mattress was two years old, it was time to throw it out and buy a new one. if a bike had a single scratch, it was thrown into the dumpster. all of the old items deemed as ‘garbage’ were brought to a warehouse that was emptied around every two weeks. and this was your favourite place to be.
you sneak into the warehouse. it’s late at night and there’s never any security around. you’re immediately greeted with piles of furniture and clothing and trinkets that are too unique to fit into the seabrook aesthetic.
you start to rummage through with the plastic gloves you always wear just in case any bugs or mice decide that this is a perfect place to burrow. lost in thought, you don’t hear the creaky door open, but you do hear the sudden shout that erupted from behind you.
your heart nearly stops beating at the sudden noise and your head swivels around. the lighting isn’t great, and you can only make out the vague shape of the person blocking your only exit. he looks fairly lanky, and if you squint you could make out some of his features. he doesn’t look much older than you and he certainly doesn’t scream “imposing”. he’s taller than you, but maybe if you caught him off guard you could knock him out with one of the many heavy objects splayed around you.
“i was told no one ever came in here,” the boy says. fuck, his voice is attractive.
“they don’t. in the three years i’ve been doing this i’ve never run into anyone else.” you answer, obviously suspicious.
“i’m uh- i’m just looking for a gift for my little sister,” he explains, “it’s her birthday soon and she said she wanted a new bike but we can’t really afford it.”
you relax a little at his explanation, sharing that you’d gotten into the habit of coming here to rummage for things since your family also doesn’t have much money. “i could help you look if you’d like? and even if we can’t find a bike, there’s a ton of cool stuff you can find if you’re willing to dig.” you offer.
you can’t be sure, but you think he smiles as he answers. “i’ll take any help i can get. my friend eliza told me to try coming here to look, but honestly, i’m a bit overwhelmed.”
you talk and laugh together for what must be at least two hours. you don’t end up finding a bike, but you find an old cheerleader outfit that looks to be in perfect condition. you can’t imagine why anyone would throw it out unless it just didn’t fit anymore. the boy -who still doesn’t have a name- literally jumped up in joy when he saw you holding the skirt from the set, doing a little celebratory dance that should have been embarrassing but was somehow endearing. (that’s how you figured out his little sister was obsessed with cheer).
eventually you have to part ways; it’s getting into the early hours of the morning and you both need to be getting home. he’s halfway down the street when you realise you never shared names and you yell out, “wait!”
he stops and turns around, and you jog to catch up to him.
“what’s your name, stranger?” you ask, “just in case we run into each other again.”
he tells you his name is zed, and you tell him your name in return. for a few seconds the both of you just stand in the street, memorising each other’s faces until you look away, shaking off the thoughts of how attractive he is under the starlight.
(bonus: when zed gets home, all he can think about is you. he wonders if eliza would recognise your name, or if he would possibly run into you if he chose to go to school for once instead of always skipping. he wonders where you live in zombietown, since he doesn’t recognise you and is sure he would remember seeing someone as gorgeous are you. he spends the next few days wondering, and then is in for the shock of his life when he sees you through the fence that blocks off zombietown from seabrook and learns that you’re human.)
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clumsybriar · 5 months ago
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Ghost X Fem! Reader — Savior To The Neighbor
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*Minors do not interact! I repeat do not interact if you are a minor!*
Ghost x Fem! Reader
Masterlist
Word Count: 16,687
Warnings/Notes: sexual themes at the end, smut, (y/n) is used, reader can be clumsy or needs saved often, she’s ghosts neighbor. Minors do not interact. (Re-read but not closely so mistakes could still be in the writing!)
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What was it like being a neighbor to a 6’4 SAS Soldier? (Y/n) would describe it in three different words, ‘thankful’, ‘terrifying’, ‘embarrassing’. All three words she deemed as the correct response for being a neighbor to the War ridden soldier named Simon Ghost Riley.
Just like now, as he grumbled about having to kill a spider on her bathroom wall while it was all steamed up from her hot shower. Not only that but he had the distraction of the woman in nothing but a towel.
(Y/n)…was embarrassed. Dispising that he had heard her squeal like a little girl, and embarrassed that she had been caught in only a towel.
If he would have let her handle the situation though, the house would have been on fire as she kept ahold of her towel and the torch she had rushed off to get.
“Jesus, give me that.” He grabbed that from her hand as she nodded her head unsure whether arguing spiders deserved to be roasted with the SAS soldier was a good idea. “Torch your house and I won’t save you from that.” He grumbled. Oh but he would.
He was always grumpy, in her eyes, hence the word ‘terrifying’.
“Got a death wish?”
“No sir.” She uttered quickly.
“Good, then don’t grab the torch.” He told her raising a brow at her ridiculous idea. His skull balaclava hiding the rest of his facial features, she was sure she didn’t want to see them knowing his expression would be a sign he was judging her.
“But…spiders are from hell.” She uttered softly.
“They eat bugs, not you.” He looked her up and down as she flushed red.
Well, how did he know that? He didn’t know that? She was a very well informed person about spiders. The info wasn’t right, but he didn’t need to know that. Right? Right.
She was petrified of spiders and her in form was fear based off of her own fears.
“It wanted to kill me,” she said quickly. “It was looking at me with those beady eyes.”
“Did it slobber?” Simon asked.
“I’m sure it did…”
“No it didn’t, you're too big to be its meal.” He grumbled. “It’s more afraid of you then you are of it.”
“That’s a very under-thought statement.” (Y/n) said softly.
“Your right,” Simon corrected himself. “The spider is almost just as afraid of you as you are of it.”
“That’s probably pretty true.” She took a deep breath as he started to walk out of the bathroom with the dead spider in a tissue.
She got frantic following him. Who wouldn’t, her father used to tease her and act like he was throwing it at her, or joking that it’s under her pillow.
“You're throwing it away right? It’s dead right? What if it comes back to life? It’s a spawn of Satan, it might come back from the dead.” (Y/n) were panicking and he knew it.
“It’s dead, if it comes back to life, call a priest.” He uttered. “I’m leaving, have friends over, don’t scream unless you want a stranger to come bursting over here.” Simon warned her. “Always have a hard time telling Johnny to sit his ass down when you need…rescuing.” That was a judgment, he just judged her. Rescuing was not the word he wanted to use, she knew that. But he used a politer word than what he wanted to use.
She didn’t realize she was standing in her window that faced his backyard where Johnny was standing smiling at her.
“Oi, little lady,” Johnny waved. She screeched and stared at Johnny embarrassed. How much worse could this day get.
“Stop staring in her window,” Simon walked past the open window slapping Johnny’s head.
“Oh but Ghost, a Bonnie lass like that needs a good man to worship her.” Johnny said walking away with Ghost as (y/n) was left staring at the trash can.
She trotted back to her shower where she sat in the warm steaming water thinking about her embarrassing moment with her grumpy neighbor.
She knew it wasn’t the first time and it wasn’t the last time she would be saved by him.
After that save, she was in need of help three days later. she had a mouse scurrying in her house as she screeched.
Simon—with his sixth sense of whenever she was in some weird situation where she needed help—had already been halfway across his yard heading into hers when he heard her shrill screech.
“The lassie in trouble?” Johnny asked as he sat his cooler of beer on the porch.
“Yes,” Simon said as he walked into (y/n)’s house as if he was a resident there too.
“Oh, they're on a new level of no knocking now, just barging in.” Kyle hummed as he looked at Johnny. “He’s such a hero.”
“I think he’s in love.” Johnny hummed.
“How so, he seemed to lack enthusiasm.” Kyle asked, cocking his head to the side.
Johnny knew his best friend, that man had a sixth sense for the ‘young hot neighbor’ (soaps words). Simon—a man who would not go out if his way to help his last neighbor who was also a young and pretty woman—was helping (y/n), a new young and pretty woman. Maybe it was because she was a foreigner. Truly it could have been anything really. Johnny though had seen how Simon held his body, having puffed his chest out more and making sure he looked strong and attractive as if he was a peacock showing off his colorful feathers. Plus Johnny knew the last girl screamed and screamed more about things than what (y/n) did and he never came running over to help. Never ever puffed his chest out and looked bigger and more attractive.
Johnny knew there was attraction there.
“What are ya’ bloody screaming’ about?” Simon asked as (y/n) jumped, turning around and running into his arms. It was quick and there was no thought. She just ran and clung to him like her life depended on it.
“A mouse, Simon, a mouse!” She clung to him. Her eyes darted around as she looked for the little mammal that had made its home in her kitchen. “There is a mouse in my kitchen!”
“Alright mama,” he said carefully as he sat her on the kitchen counter. Her legs were pulled up as if she thought the mouse could jump that high and get her. Her eyes darted around as she squirmed a bit.
He left her there where she grew a bit frantic. She was nervous and wondering where he was going. Was he just leaving her here? She hoped not, she was so frantic and worried.
She didn’t hate mice, she just didn’t like them in her home. They were cute and all, just not cute scurrying across her floor.
Simon walked across his yard as Johnny and Kyle watched with a beer in their hands as he crossed back over with a live trap for the mouse. He had peanut butter on the trap as he walked back into her house.
“A mouse,” Kyle hummed.
“A mouse,” Johnny agreed.
Her eyes met his as he sat the trap in a location where the mouse would be able to get to.
“Alright, we’ll catch him this way.” Simon hummed. As he sat the trap down. She watched him. One thing was for sure his muscles didn’t go unnoticed as he was wearing a tank top. It was a hot day, if she had her way she’d be in something much cooler than what she was wearing. Everything felt suffocating in this muggy weather, and don’t forget the daily rain that would only make it muggier.
“Thank you.” (Y/n) said softly as she looked at the man who had grown to be a decent neighbor to her. There were many reasons for that statement, and one was because he saved her from a million spiders at this point, and bats in her home. Now she could add mice to the mix of animals he’s saved her from.
“Ya’ ya’,” he waved it off with his grumpy demeanor. “Let me know if the mouse takes the bait.” He said as he walked back out to his friends as they got everything set up for their almost daily poker game.
Almost daily because if they could play it everyday they would.
“Ye’ got a crush, mate?” Johnny asked as he looked at Simon.
“No,” he hummed as he cracked open a beer taking a large sip. “Why?” He asked so calmly. He eyed the two men up as they sat under the cabana Ghost had put up. It was mainly for at night time when they could zip up the sides and keep the mosquitos away while playing into the wee hours of the morning.
“Cause ya’ run over there when she’s in dire need of some help.” Kyle added.
“Ghost’s in love?” Price asked as he lit his cigar trailing his cooler of his own beer behind him.
“No,” Simon shook his head. “Far from it, I don't need love in my life to distract me from my work.”
“I don’t know, mate, ye’ seem to be fallin’.” Johnny laughed as he started to set up the cards.
“Shut up,” Simon grumbled at them.
Needless to say four hours later in the middle of the game she rushed out onto the porch shouting from her yard to his. “Simon!”
“Yes love?” He asked, unzipping the cabana cause the mosquitos were out. They had candles around them to keep the bloodsuckers away too.
“You caught something!” She said leaning over her porch.
“Get away from the edge like that.” He chided her. “You’ll fall off.”
“But…” she paused and backed away like he said.
“You're clumsy, you dimwit.” Simon grumbled out. Johnny could be heard chuckling at a comment Price made.
“Expressed his careingness in such a friendly manner.”
Simon would remember to make the captain regret those words.
“Mmm,” she brushed it off as she padded behind him into her own home.
Surely enough it was a little mouse that had been feeding off her little crumbs she had been dripping and trying to clean up as best as she could. It was like anyone’s kitchen, it wasn't going to be a hundred percent clean, it would still have crumbs that would need to be swept up, and swept up again until the person sweeping said forget it.
“It’s so cute.” She smiled as she looked at it kneeling down in front of the box.
“You screamed four hours ago ‘cause it was scampering across ya’ kitchen floor.” He uttered lost at her change of temper for it.
“Don’t want it in my house, it can live outside.” She smiled up at him.
That smile, oh god, that smile. Simon could feel his legs go weak. It was so cute, so pretty, so gorgeous.
“Ya’ ya’.” He uttered as he scooped the live trap up and went to release the animal in the very backs of their yards. She trailed behind him like a lost puppy. His chest was puffed out as she followed behind him asking questions. He would answer calmly but he was masking it with his grumpy attitude to make sure the guys didn’t get any wrong ideas. When she trailed behind him coming back the boys watched finding it funny how he had his chest puffed out showing off and she was oblivious, but it seemed to be working as she rambled on.
“He feels like a pretty bird puffin’ his chest out ta’ attract the little lassie as his mate.” Johnny giggled to Kyle who giggled some more.
“You two keep blabbering your mouths and we’ll all three be killed.” Price tried to keep them shut.
“Sorry Captain.” The two said in unison as Simon ignored the three of them
“Thank you Simon, I appreciate it.” (Y/n) said softly as she leaned up and kissed his cheek for the first time. She had never had this type of confidence before. Simon was frozen as a glare was etched onto his face. She was so embarrassed and upset at herself for making such a slip up like that.
What she wasn’t hearing was Simon’s friends, specifically Johnny laughing about him. That’s why the glare was etched into his face.
“He’s so in love, so is she, the two just have this connection.” Johnny giggled.
Simon wanted to strangle the ever living hell out of him, but it would have to wait.
“Anyways, thanks again.” She walked away quickly as she bolted into the house she had made a home about a year ago.
Simon stood still as he turned around slowly making his way back to the poker game.
“Got choked up there mate.” Johnny teased.
“I’m going to choke the ev’ah livin’ ‘ell outta you.” Simon grumbled as his accent got thick. Meanwhile Johnny giggled.
“Also forgot ta’ puff your chest to get the pretty mate.”
Oh Johnny was gonna be buried in his backyard tonight,
Days had passed and you had been avoiding Simon like he was a live wire about to catch you in fire. You were so embarrassed for kissing his cheek.
“A simple thanks would have been enough dummy!” (Y/n) huffed as she got out of her car grabbing her reusable grocery bags. She walked into the grocery store oblivious at the moment of the harsh world they lived in. She grabbed a basket and shopped around for a bit.
“What’s the difference,” she uttered to herself. She sat the one product down and went with the one that looked better in her mind.
She froze though, froze as soon as she heard a gun ring out. She ducked as she looked around seeing if anyone was close to her. Screaming came from the cash register area. And then the intercoms went on.
Everything was moving so fast.
“Everyone get down, we’ll shoot you if you try to escape or run, we’re not leaving until we have all the money from the cash registers and from the back.” A man shouted at the surround sound.
She almost screeched though when a man picked her up and covered her mouth as he took her to a secure area in the back of the grocery store where they stored delivery truck packages.
“Just me mama,” She felt a breath of fresh air having recognized the voice.
Simon.
“Simon,” her voice was muffled as his mouth was over her lips clamping down on it tightly to keep her quiet. Almost as if this wasn’t the first time he had to drag someone who could possibly be screaming away.
“You’re safe.” He said as he took her to the exit of the building in the back where the gunmen had made a grave mistake and didn’t have anyone guarding the exit in the back. It was clear to Simon they were an armature crew.
“Listen to me,” Simon whispered. “You get out of here and walk half a block down, and call 999. Think ya’ can do that for me, (y/n)?” He asked softly.
She paused as she nodded but then looked back at him. “I mean yeah, but what about you?” She clung to his forearm.
He paused as he shook his head, “don’t worry about me.” He urged her to go out the door. “Don’t worry about me, I got to go help some people.”
“But it’s not safe,” she tried to tug him with her.
“I’m a trained SAS soldier, darlin’ I have a duty, I’m gonna go do my duty.” He pushed her out the door and latched it. She tried to yank on it to get him to open it up.
“Simon,” she hissed through the door. “Simon.” She gulped as she grabbed her phone and ran down the blocks like he told her to do. Her heart was beating and her mind was fuzzy and she was panicking a bit. Mainly about the people and Simon, hoping he was okay and safe and away from harm.
“Simon,” she whimpered as she made it to a shop bolting in looking frantic. “I don’t have service but someone needs to call 999!” She looked around seeing it was a metaphysical shop. The smell was one to instantly soothe and calm her mind just a hair. It smelled like incense and sage and things she remembered growing up with at her grandma's house. It was a sense of comfort in such a stressful and scary situation. “Please, the market, um…” she tried to remember the name. “The family run market, uh… Tillie's Market, men with guns and hostages. Please, many people are in danger.”
The shop keeper didn’t wait, she called 999 and quickly reached a responder who had cops and people at the scene quickly. (Y/n) had taken a look around as she waited unsure of what to do whether she should go back for Simon or if she should stay.
“I need to go back.” She uttered.
She didn’t wait for the old woman to call out to her. She left the metaphysical shop and rushed to the door she had escaped from.
The lungs in her air felt heavy, and the time seemed to be slow even if she was running faster than when she had escaped. She darted down the alleyway seeing a crying mother and her baby in her arms as she didn’t know where to go. (Y/n) could hear the sirens as it caused the baby to stir, she knew if Simon was right here at the moment he’d tell her to take them to safety.
The police were still a distance away.
“You're safe,” (y/n) cooed. “Please let’s get you to safety.” Her words came out in a rush. “Simon, got you two out safely, I assume.” She guided them down to the metaphysical shop.
And that’s what (y/n) did with the wayfinders who found their way to the back of the shop with Simon exiting and guiding them to safety.
She had caught Simon’s eyes on her a few times as he looked at her. He would grumble at her and urge her to stay at the shop where it was after but she refused. Continuing to do her duty if he was doing his.
“They figured out what he was doing.” A man was frantic. “They figured out he was sneaking people to safety. They didn’t even know he was there until they had caught him.”
“Simon,” (y/n)’s eyes widened. By now the police had set up caution tape and were negotiating with the criminals to let go of civilians. (Y/n) stayed put at the metaphysical shop biting her fingers now as a crowd of people sat nervously.
“Simon,” (y/n) uttered as the old woman urged her to sit behind the counter with her as others sat watching the tv thankful for Simon’s bravery.
“He’ll be fine, honey.” The older woman said softly. “I have no fear.”
“I hope so.” She took in the scent of the intense and natural drying herbs that hung from the old wooden ceiling.
The old woman wasn’t wrong, he was safe and the first thing he did was come searching for you. He rushed down the sidewalk looking everywhere shouting your name.
“(Y/n)!”
(Y/n) could hear him shouting. She stirred from her hazy daydream that was laden with fear and rushed out from behind the counter and stumbled out the door as she saw him there panting and breathing heavily. He had a bit of blood from getting hit in the head from the butt of one of the men’s guns but for the most part he was sound and safe.
“Simon.” She felt her eyes water as she looked at him.
“You’re okay?” He asked quickly.
“I’m okay.” She nodded as she rushed into his arms. “Are you okay?” She asked softly.
“I’m okay,” he nodded as he held her tightly. He wasn’t letting her go anytime soon.
But she knew at some point the high of them finding each other would dwindle down and she would get a lecture, especially when she was doing something so dangerous and that was constantly sneaking down that alleyway and helping those to safety.
“Don’t you ever do that again.” Simon pulled away and grabbed her firmly by the shoulders. She squeaked out in a bit of surprise. “Do you understand me?”
“Simon?” She looked up at him.
“No, do you understand me? That was dangerous.” He said his tone was stern and she felt like she was a puppy who just made a mess in the house. She felt horrible, now she knew how the puppy felt. “I don’t ever want to see you do something reckless like that again!”
“But—“ she uttered.
“No buts, you’ll never do that again. It’s too dangerous!” He seethed at her.
“Yes sir,” she said quickly, averting her eyes.
He was panting as he slowly started to calm down. “It was dangerous and reckless, yet very brave of you to help all those people.” He said softly. “I worry, that’s all.”
“I know.” She looked down at her hands as she messed with her rings she always wore. “You scared me, that one man said they had found that you were smuggling people out.” She said softly as her eyes met back up with his.
“You're not gonna lecture me, no, no.” He tried to turn this around, looking down at (y/n). He had a slight frown on his lips and she could see it.
“It was also dangerous.” (Y/n) added nodding her head.
“Oh no, no,” Simon shook his head. “You're not lecturing me mama.” He looked at her cupping her face. He brushed her hair from her face as he saw her watery eyes.
“I was so worried.” She sniffled.
“I know mama.” He cooed softly. “I know.” He hugged her tighter to his chest. She clung to him crying as he tried to soothe her.
It had done this weird pattern of worry for one and another and calm one and another, to receive a lecture, back to calm and worry about one and another.
“Are you sure you're okay?” She asked softly.
“I’ll be just fine, something I can patch up on my own.” He told her softly.
(Y/n) knew she wasn’t going to let Simon do that by himself, no way! She could help, she was going to help. No ands, ifs, or buts.
That’s where the two ended up, in Simon’s home, cleaning up his cut as Johnny tried to help.
“Take off the mask,” Johnny's deep Scottish accent made (y/n) jump as she cracked her head on the cabinet below the sink.
“Johnny,” Simon grumbled. “Scared her.”
“I’m so sorry, lassie.” Johnny apologized quickly.
“It’s okay Johnny.” (Y/n) wiggled back out of the cabinet. “Not in there.” She said softly to Simon.
“Ah fuck.” He huffed as he rubbed his temple but hissed. “Give me a second mama, let me think.”
“Need a first aid kit.” Johnny hummed. “Brought the one from my jeep.” He held it up.
“Perfect.” (Y/n) giggled as she stood beside Johnny looking at the contents fluttering around and pulling things out.
“Just got a bad headache mama, don’t need nothing’.”
“LT, you took a hit to the head.” Johnny hummed looking at the man.
“Take your mask off and I can look at it.” (Y/n) cooed. He didn’t move for a few seconds as he leaned forward and breathed slowly as if he was trying to calm down something. A minute had passed and he didn’t move, Johnny had an idea of what was going on but (y/n) was fretting.
“You okay, Simon?” She asked softly. Her eyes remained on him as he let out a deep breath.
“Feeling a bit queasy mama, give me a minute.” He said softly. “Don’t worry about me.”
“Concussion.” Johnny hummed softly. He flipped the switch off putting the three of them in the dark.
“Should I take him to the doctor?” She asked as she looked up at Johnny.
“Nah, he should be okay in a few days, we get concussions all the time.” Johnny smiled. “Let’s just patch him up and get him tucked in bed like a wee’ baby.”
“Yeah.” (Y/n) quietly agreed as she rubbed Simon’s back.
An hour later they had Simon tucked in bed as Johnny got ready to leave.
“I’m gonna head out, don’t fret about him, he’ll be fine.” Johnny said as she nodded her head.
“Yes Johnny,” she said softly. She shut the door as she quickly and quietly walked up to his bedroom where he laid with a pillow over his head.
“Mama, what’s up?” He lifted the pillow off his head and looked at her.
“I was just gonna lock the doors and leave for the night, if you need anything let me know okay.” She said softly rocking in her feet.
“Could you do something for me?” He asked softly as she lit up, happy to help him in any way. She nodded her head and smiled at him softly. “Come rub my belly.” She nodded her head as she sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his belly.
“Believe it or not, my mum used to sit and do this for me when I had an upset stomach.” Simon said softly as she rubbed her hands on his belly.
“Did it soothe your stomach?” She asked softly.
He chuckled as he nodded his head and licked his lips. She looked away flushed and red from embarrassment and from finding such a display of actions attractive.
“Yeah, when m’mum would rub my stomach it would go away and as soon as she would pull her hand away it would come back.” He hummed softly.
“Simon…” she stopped as she looked away embarrassed. She couldn’t express the feelings she was feeling right now, there was no way he would reciprocate her feelings for him. She was just some woman, who wasn’t probably good enough for the strong soldier.
“Yeah, mama.” He said softly.
She gulped quickly and thought of something to say because she had such a weak display of actions. “Um…I’ve gotten some really scary messages from my abusive ex.” She said softly as she continued to rub his stomach softly. “He’s been threatening to come and get me and drag me back to my country with him.” She said softly.
“You can stay over here mama,” he said softly.
She felt her heart swarm with love. She was grateful he would let her stay but she also knew he had no idea where she lived.
“That’s okay, I appreciate it, but he doesn’t know where I live.” She said softly. “I was just hoping maybe you could help me hook up cameras.” She said softly.
“Yeah, I can get you some good ones and get them hooked up.” He hummed softly.
“Thank you.” She nodded, smiling as she bit the inside of her cheek as she looked away. She was feeling disappointed in herself for not saying what she truly wanted to get off her chest, but she also knew there was no way he would feel the same way.
Ever since the grocery store, (y/n) had been too afraid to go shopping alone. Especially without Simon nearby. So Simon had suggested they go together, and that’s what they did.
She stuck close to him as he pushed the cart for the two of them, it was easier just to split the cart and split the bill.
They went around the store crossing things off their list as they went laughing at silly things.
Simon was no longer her grumpy terrifying neighbor. She had grown over the last few months to stop being terrified of him. She rather enjoyed the moments she got to spend with him where he would often rescue her from something going array.
(Y/n) was stretched reaching for something as Simon’s phone buzzed. He didn’t care to look at it thinking it was Johnny.
“My mother used to buy these when I was a little kid.” (Y/n) tossed the snack into the cart that had so many memories and so many happy moments associated with them. “I didn’t think they would have them here.”
“Sure it’s gonna taste the same as when you were a kid?” Simon asked as he chuckled lightly.
“Oh god no,” (y/n) giggled with him. “They have had to change the recipe since I was a little girl. But it’s just the nostalgia of eating them for me, whether it tastes the same or not.” She nodded. “Did you have anything like that?” She asked softly.
“My mother used to make me an apple dumplin’, had a apple tree growin’ in the backyard.” He hummed as he pushed the cart while she listened intently. “And every year she’d pick the ripest apple and bake Tommy and I a damn good apple dumplin’.”
“Mmm,” she smiled. “My papa used to make apple dumplings.” (Y/n) said softly. “Of course I didn’t appreciate them until it was about three years before he passed, so I missed out on a lot.” She rocked on her feet as they stopped to grab something he needed. “Damn where they are good and damn do I miss those apple dumplings. I’d do anything to get an apple dumpling made by him again.” She smiled sadly.
“Sounds like we need to try and make some apple dumplin’s, mama.” He said softly,
“Sounds like we should.” She giggled. “Oh, I forgot to let you know, Johnny said he was stopping by with his sisters later on in the week and wanted me to let you know. He had stopped by when you weren’t home and came over to me to relay the message.”
“Oh dear god,” Simon took a deep sigh and used it to express his emotions. “You room the Mactavish’s.”
“M-me!” She pointed to herself. “Oh no, no, no!” She shook her head quickly. “Johnny is beyond enough for me, last time he stepped foot into my house he broke my vase that was full of flowers.” She giggled softly. “My house would be falling in.”
Her words were so sweet it made Simon melt a bit. His cold heart was thawing more and more everyday.
He knew as soon as he came running out of that grocery store that day, he was going to hightail it to (y/n) because he had to know she was okay. Yeah he had a tiny lecture, but he wanted to make sure she was safe and sound and the only way he could trust it was if he saw her and god was she a sight to behold rushing out of that metaphysical store crying for him.
“I don’t want my house to fall in, I just put that new addition on.” He looked at her smiling underneath his mask.
“I don’t want my house to fall in, I’ll have to move back to my country.” She giggled. “You wouldn’t have anyone to save constantly.”
She wasn’t wrong, he would be lonely then, lonely and stuck with a neighbor he didn’t care for like the last one who was always trying to impress him and wear skimpy clothing outside to get his attention.
“Yeah, maybe I’ll stick to keepin’ the MacTavish family at my home then.” He snickered.
The two walked to his jeep as they continued to giggle and chuckle about things off and on. It was a flourishing friendship at the moment, that was one thing that was for certain. Though it was quite obvious the two had a crush on one and another.
“I can get my groceries Simon, don’t worry about it, you have a lot to put away too.” She hummed as she fought to keep his hands off of her bags laughing as he would win and start tugging a bag into her home. She would chase behind him and open the door for him smiling as he carried a heavy load.
He would then start unpacking groceries with (y/n), wanting to be closer to her in the moment, especially since in his eyes she was so pretty doing such candid things.
“Simon, seriously, you don’t have to get my grocers unpacked for me either.” (Y/n) snorted. “Johnny just pulled in over at your house I can get this.” She giggled softly.
“Oh alright mama,” he hummed softly. She leaned up and kissed his cheek.
It made Simon pause as he looked down at her smiling, but she couldn’t see with the mask on his face.
“Thank you Simon for talking me shopping and helping me unpack.” She hummed.
“Anytime mama,” he smiled at her and paused looking back at her. She looked at him smiling seeing as he paused almost wanting something.
“Is something the matter, Simon?” She asked softly as her eyes looked deep into his. Simon’s breath caught in his throat as he slowly made his way back to her. They were lost in each other's gaze while Simon’s arms wrapped around her waist. Her hands rested on his thick muscles as she felt the butterflies swirl in her stomach, she was so excited, was he going to kiss her.
“Simon!” Johnny jolted the two out of their moment as they both backed away and looked embarrassed. “I should go.” Simon said softly before he left through the back door.
“Yeah,” she said, a bit disappointed. “I should uh, put these away.” She paused and knocked her hand on her granite countertop. “Not that this open space needs to know, maybe a ghost that lives in my home.” She hummed softly. “I should just stop talking.” She nodded her head and went to work.
Simon came to his jeep as he started to unpack the back as Johnny rushed out of his house.
“I was lookin’ everywhere fer’ ya’, mate.” Johnny patted him in the back. “We’re ya’ with the lassie?” He chuckled as Simon turned and glared at him. “Oh.” Johnny paused as he knew that look. “I interrupted somethin’, didn’t I?”
“Ya’, ya’did.” Simon nodded.
Johnny paused as he chuckled lightly. “Oh me’ were ye’ two kissin’!” Johnny howled with a bit of laughter. It was deep from his chest and sounded not like a chortle.
“I was gonna’ kiss ‘er, until ya’ yelled my name.” Simon huffed grumpily that his moment didn’t come forth with his girl.
“Sorry, LT.” Johnny snickered as he followed the man close behind up his steps into his home which the Scottish man frequented. “Maybe next time.”
“Maybe next time.” Simon uttered.
“Hey who knows m—“ Johnny was interrupted when the phone went off and Simon grabbed his phone quickly.
“Eek—“ he could hear (y/n) scream as he flung the phone away and rushed out of the house. Johnny didn’t have time to think, but he sprung to action just like his LT knowing it came from (y/n)’s home and LT wasn’t pissing around.
“(Y/n)!” Simon rushed into the kitchen seeing that she had obviously put up a struggle. As she had knocked over her groceries and a mess was made down the hallway leading up to her stairs.
“I’ll make sure it’s clear down here.” Johnny said as he started to inspect the bottom floor. Ghost didn’t hesitate as he rushed up the stairs slowly peeking into rooms deeming them clear and safe.
“Let me go, you bastard!” (Y/n) shouted as a man grunted and grumbled at her to shut up.
Simon felt like he was ready to fight and rip this man apart whoever it was.
“Mama,” Simon rushed into the room tackling the man who was your ex.
“Get off of me you idiot!” The man growled.
Simon got a good look of the man as he memorized his face, one thing was for sure no one fucks with his baby. No one. And Simon was going to protect her for as long as he was allowed to and he hoped that was for an eternity.
Simon could feel his heart beating in his ear as (y/n) was quickly on the other side of the bedroom watching the two men brawl. It wasn’t before long Simon was sitting on top having won the brawl of dominance as he shouted for Johnny.
“Bring me some Zipties Johnny, got the bastard!”
What was this, Florida men capturing a crocodile? No it was just Soap and Ghost doing what they knew best, beating the bad guys (in the simplest of terms).
It wasn’t long before Johnny appeared with zip ties as the two men began to restrain (y/n)’s shitty abuseive ex.
It wasn’t long before Simon’s focus was on her again as he looked at her.
“Ya’okay, mama?” Simon asked as Johnny held the man in place by sitting on him while also calling 999. It was a weird sight to see, but at the moment they were both heroes.
God bless their teamwork, it really made the dream work.
“Why the fuck is this bastard calling you mama? Are you pregnant with his kid?” (Y/n)’s ex snarled at her as the young woman jumped back a bit. She was terrified of the man, terrified of what he had done to her and what he would do to her, that’s why she ran. Now she was wondering who gave up her location. Was it her mama who had too sweet of a heart and was also afraid of the man? Wasit her papa who slipped up and made a mistake while he was arguing with the bastard? Was it her shitty ex friend who found out and then told him? Oh god, it was making her head swirl and her stomach heave.
She didn’t want to think about it, off the mind, off the body, and off the soul.
“If she was it wouldn’t fuckin’ matter to you mate.” Simon snapped. “Mama, let’s get you in another room.” Simon cooed softly as he guided her to the spare bedroom. “You’re not stayin’ alone no more.” Simon said softly. “Either I stay with you some nights or your stayin’ with me.” He was stern.
“Yes Simon.” She bit her lip as she looked at the man nervously.
“Don’t look at him mama, he’s not a threat to you.” Simon brushed her hair away. “Come one sweet girl, hide yourself away from his sight. I’ve got ya.” She curled into his arms hiding away from the man who was her ex and had caused her a lot of caution in all her relationships. Something that Simon was tearing down piece by piece.
Things soon turned into a big long fiasco. Police questioning (y/n), Simon after, and then Johnny at the very end. Asking them what had happened, maybe what his motives were. It was questioning her sanity. That was a fact. She was ready to go see if a bear really did shit in the woods.
“Come on mama, you're safe.” Simon cooed softly as she had a meltdown. Good thing the meltdown occurred in his arms after being questioned. “You're okay.”
Her mind was buzzing all night long. Thinking about the what if’s, the why’s, the maybe’s, and the not so much’s. Simon knew she needed to change her mind right now before she lost any sleep in this. So as he was corralling her into his room—after a very long night of fretting for her safety—he kissed her passionately on the lips.
She didn’t know how to react, didn’t know what to say. But it was very obvious how she felt when she kissed him right back.
They had finally shared their first kiss. One that was needed a lot sooner than when it had arrived.
(Y/n) felt like she was floating, maybe it was a bit too much with the day she had, but she didn’t care, she liked it. Liked his lips on hers as he kissed her so tenderly, so passionately.
He loved it, he loved how she melted against his embrace as his lips merged with hers.
The two were currently feeling things out, like is this what he wanted, is this what she wanted? Was she into it as much as he was into it?
Answer: yes!
Weeks had passed and the two would sleep off and on at one and another’s house. When they were sleeping in hers, they were at his. And when they weren’t at his, they were at hers. It was back and forth making sure she was safe and she was okay, she didn’t mind as it kept her close to Simon, and she liked to be close to the man. He was her big strong hero and she wanted to keep it like that.
We’re playin’ poker, mamas,” Simon said softly as he looked back at her. “Wanna play?”
“Never played before.” She came down the stairs looking at him confused. There was another woman standing in his home. It wasn’t Moria and Kaitlyn, Johnny’s sisters who would visit often. She seemed more put together unlike the fun Scottish sisters (y/n) enjoyed hanging with. “I can teach ya, mama.” Simon said softly his eyes twinkling as he wanted her to be seated right beside him.
“Is Moria and Kaitlyn here?” She asked softly.
“Oh lassie, their comin’ tomorrow.” Johnny added as he started to introduce the woman. “Has Simon introduced you two?”
“No,” (y/n) said slowly, always unsure about people in the beginning.
Simon had learned that when she had met Moria and Kaitlyn, she was fearful of people and it had to do with her ex who created that fear. Simon had learned real quick that he would feed her lies and fears so she would stick close to him and never leave like mother gospel did to Rapunzel.
“This is Farah, mamas,” Simon said softly. “She is the commander of the Urzikstan liberation force.”
Simon knew she had been on edge since her boyfriend and tried to force in a position she didn’t like. Her fear and constant needing to be on edge was her body keeping her alert and ready to run if she needed to. The thing was, she had nothing to fear when Simon was right here, he wasn’t going to let anything hurt her.
“She’s good friends with the 141.” Soap added as he smiled.
“Nice to finally meet you, they all say good things about you,” Farah smiled softly as she reached her hand out.
“Nice to meet you too.” (Y/n) said softly as she shook her hand looking back at Ghost, he had on his balaclava like always. “Can I watch?” She asked softly, sticking close to his side. Johnny and Farah left the house with a beer in their hands as they giggled and joked about something. Simon rested his large palm on (y/n)’s hip as he leaned forward and nuzzled his face onto her head.
“Good girl.” He said softly. She tensed up subtly liking the way he called her a good girl. It wasn’t something she ever thought she’d get to hear from him, but then again she wasn’t so sure why she thought she wouldn’t ever hear this, he was so sweet to her. “Gonna be my good luck charm, pretty girl?” He asked as she wasn’t so sure what to even say.
Yes?
Yes…
Yes!
“Maybe I could bring you good luck,” she smiled as she spoke softly following him out to the usual place they played poker in the middle of summer.
The two were seated so close to one and other it didn’t go unnoticed by the guests residing at the Riley residence. Soap who always sits beside Ghost was now sandwiching (y/n) in between the two large SAS soldiers.
(Y/n) had her leg lifted up and over Simon’s where he had tugged it as his large palm rested on her thigh rubbing her skin in a soothing manner. He wanted her calm and wanted her as relaxed as he could get her.
“Keep Johnny from cheatin’ and lookin’ at my cards, mama.” Simon hummed softly as she giggled nodding her head fighting Johnny off at times.
The night couldn’t go any better, it actually took a turn for the worse. All because of a simple slip up from Johnny and his terrible ways of phrasing things.
“(Y/n), lassie,” she looked at the Scottish man curious as to what he was going to say. “You got the LT running after you constantly saving your clumsy arse from things. When are ya gonna learn from him and care for yourself lassie?” (Y/n) froze up as she laughed nervously.
“Yeah, guess I do rely on him too much.” She fiddled with her lip.
‘Embarrassing, relying on Simon all the time. Embrassing and probably a hindrance.’ She thought in her head as Johnny continued to tease her. He wasn’t meaning to make her feel like shit, he was just play-teasing her. It wasn’t supposed to be taken in such a way where he was ridiculing her. She just panicked because she already felt like a problem. Simon was always rescuing her it had to be annoying.
‘Knew I was annoying.’ Her eyes got a bit glossy. She blinked a few times hiding them.
“Can’t have a big guy saving you all the time!” Johnny was a bit tipsy, he really didn’t mean anything ill about it. “Be a big girl and go take on the world a bit without Simon’s help, ya’, it’s not too scary.”
“Yeah.” She frowned slightly. “I-I’m sorry,” she looked up at Simon. “I-I’m gonna go to bed. Not feeling so good right now.”
“Lovie, don’t listen to him,” Simon said quickly. “He’s just drunk Dovie. You’re not a problem.” Simon nodded his head as he sat the cards down. “He’s a terrible joker when he’s drunk and doesn’t understand what he’s saying.”
“It’s okay, I’ve been a problem enough.” (Y/n) shut the cabana leaving the crew to hide in her house.
“Jesus Johnny!” Simon snarled conveying his anger at Soap.
“I’m sorry, mate, it was a joke.” Johnny uttered.
“Not a harmless one, now mamas is upset.” He was so protective of her. So madly in love with her.
So much so that when he found out she had locked him out of her house he tossed and turned all night not able to sleep. Worried she would need his help, he opened his windows and shut the AC off and listened Incase she called for him.
Meanwhile she was beating herself up for being so…immature. In her eyes she felt immature, felt so kiddish always needing rescued by some SAS soldier who was her neighbor.
“She won’t even come out and talk to me Johnny.” Simon snarled as he spoke to Johnny in his kitchen three days later. “What the fuck were ya’ thinkin’?”
“LT, it was a playful joke, everyone knows she’s a fully capable woman.” Johnny said softly.
“Yeah, well, now she avoids me like the fuckin’ plague.” Simon slammed the dishrag on the counter. He was having withdrawals, withdrawals from the most addicting drug he’s ever had in his life, (y/n). “What the fuck!”
“Let me go talk to her,” Johnny said calmly. “I’ll right my wrongs and things will go back to normal.”
Meanwhile she was in her head sitting on her bed trying to read a romance novel, but just not able to get into it.
‘He hates me, resents me, he can’t even have a relationship because I ruin it. Constantly needing his help. When was the last time he went on a date, pretty sure he went on them all the time before. I’m ruining his life.’ It went on and on in her head like this until a knock made it pause and she could hear Johnny calling for her at the front door.
“Lassie, m’sorry for what I said, I was trying joke in a playful manner but I made a hurtful joke.” Johnny was apologizing. “Open the door and we’ll talk. I owe you an apology in person.”
‘Don’t, he’ll make fun of you again, and Simon will be there and he’ll agree.’ Her mind shut her off as she hauled herself more into the bed. If she was quiet they wouldn’t know she was here…right? She hadn’t left her house the last three days, just got a shower are food and made sure nothing went wrong. When nothing went wrong it kept Simon away, and he could then find a social hour again and maybe find a woman he likes. Not some girl who screams and can’t take care of stuff on her own. Like killing a spider, the one from the shower. She was working herself up to killing it, just hasn’t been able to yet…it’s a work in progress…maybe.
She just kept her eyes on it and pleaded to any god that would listen not to let that bastard move while she was showing.
“Please let me see ya’, Simon’s about to break down this door and do a wellness check.” Johnny knocked louder.
“Johnny get the fuck out of the way!”
“No LT, she’s maybe coming downstairs, don’t kick it in!”
“Or maybe she fell down the stairs and has a broken limb…please not a broken neck, mama, I’m coming!” That was like his battle cry as Simon kicked down the door. He was like a new parent who locked his beloved kid in the car. He was in frantic mode.
(Y/n) could hear the crashing of the door biting off the wall. She jolted forward on the bed, she didn’t think he’d actually break it down. For god sakes she was just in boyshort underwear and a sports bra.
“Mamas!” His cries for her were getting loud as he stomped on the stairs and walked right into her bedroom like he owned the place. She stared confused, really not sure what else she should be feeling.
Her eyes met his brown ones as he let out a breath of relief.
Soap wasn’t too far behind as he fought his breath. “I’m so sorry lassie, I tried, I really tried.” Soap said as he was hunched over catching his breath from the hike up her steps. “We’ll fix your front door, we swear.”
Needless to say, that night her toes were curled while his toes were digging into his mattress to get better traction while he made her lose her mind.
That’s what (y/n) gets for making Simon worry like that for three damn days. He was claiming his stakes and his were her.
And when Simon was all done making her scream and cry, he rested beside her brushing her hair from her pretty sweat coated, tear stained face.
He had just gotten her all cleaned up while he looked at her proudly.
‘That’s my girl,’ repeated on his head while he smiled content.
“He’s right, you know.” (Y/n) broke the silence. “Drunk or not he was right, I need to learn to take care of myself.”
“The fuck you do,” Simon snarled as he nipped at her neck making her squeak in suspense. “Mama, I’m taking care of you from now on, that’s my god given duty.” He said while he kissed behind her ear. “Let me do my one and only duty I actually care about.”
“Okay,” she gasped out squirming a bit. “But let me learn to do some things, si.” She had never called him that before and his head shot up and he got the wild look in his eyes. He liked feeling her naked body below his squirming just like it had been a few minutes ago. He also really liked the fact that she called him Si, it made some gears churn in his head and he could feel his body buzzing and hearing up.
“I’ll let you try, but I’m gonna take care of ya’ at the end of the day.” He said sternly. “Like right now, lay down and call for me mama.” Simon trailed kisses up her neck,
“Simon,” she squeaked out in surprise but was quickly shut up as soon as her mind went blank from the rearing pleasure he was giving her. At this rate he was most likely going to break his own bed, but she wasn’t going to complain, not when she was on the receiving end.
On top of that, she was gonna be lucky if she could even walk tomorrow.
After a few days of trying to get Simon to back off a bit and let her learn how to handle some simple scenarios—not the spider in her bathroom that one was gladly done by Ghost. She was able to make it so Ghost wasn’t saving her twenty-four-seven.
He wasn’t being pulled away from poker games and things such as that.
She thought she had everything under control, until her faucet had fallen off in her sink as the water spewed everywhere. How she had no idea, it just popped off and chaos ensued.
She turned the water on and turned her back to grab her veggies she needed to wash and next thing she slowly processed that she was getting rained on and not from a leak in her ceiling. She went into instant panic as she turned around trying to shut the water off but it kept spewing.
“Shit! Shit! Shit!” She cursed as she slipped on the puddle forming on her laminated flooring. She groaned and quickly shuffled to the cabinets pulling them open as she tried to shut the water off down there but she knocked something and it spewed in her face.
Well at least it wasn’t raining…now it was just gushing in her face. She squirmed back but the water quickly stopped. She was confused, but then her ears picked up on Simon’s loud steps coming from the basement. He shut all the water off to her house.
She crawled on her hands and knees away from the sink as she stood up. She was sipping wet and entirely embarrassed by the fact that she had made it worse and didn’t think of shutting the water off from the start.
Ghost stopped behind her glad his mask was on. He quickly averted his eyes for her respect trying not to turn his head again to look at her pretty black lace panties. Made something in his stomach churn in a good way, gave him butterflies. Though it was game over when she turned around, he couldn’t not gawk, a white shirt and water didn’t go well, especially when one wasn’t wearing a bra.
A sight to behold. Now in this moment, he’d be smacking Johnny and telling him to not look but he himself couldn’t look away.
It didn’t matter if (y/n) and Simon had already done the deed. He still tried to be respectful, especially since they weren’t dating yet and surely as hell weren’t married yet. It would be different in those scenarios.
“Thanks Simon,” (y/n) brushed her hair back as his eyes remained on her chest. Not the makeup she was wearing running down her face looking horrible but somehow still making her so pretty.
“Didn’t expect to get wet today, I see.” He couldn’t help but utter out. He wanted to slap himself and see his mouth shut. What an idiot, what an absolute idiot. He still couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “Not company also, it seems.”
She paused and took a minute to try and understand what he was saying.
“Yeah,” she snorted softly. “Not expecting any company, and not expressing to get w—“ she froze as she remembered she was wearing just her black lace panties and a white shirt that belonged to her ex who dumped her. It was a weird rock band shirt she had never heard of, but kept it because she could swim in it and liked to wear it on hot summer days—like today—and stay cool without having to wear a bra. “Don’t look!” Her screech was shrill and loud as she threw a towel at him. Simon had winxed as he quickly looked away.
“I’m an Idiot.” She uttered as she tried to walk past him to get a change of clothes. Ones that didn’t show her perky breasts when it got wet.
“Mamas,” Simon said softly with a bashful look in his brown, honeyed eyes. “I need you right now.” He said softly. “I’ll fix your leaking tubes, after…” she paused as she looked at Simon.
He what?
“What?” She asked embarrassed and flustered.
“Mama, don’t make me say it again.” He was also flustered.
“Say it.” She said softly. Her eyes lingered on his for a second.
“Mama, let me have you, please.” He looked at her. She could see his arousal not only in the physical action of his member but in his eyes. How they lingered in her body how they looked deep into her eyes showing his want and need for her.
He slowly walked up to her while staring at her back, he then put a hand on her hip and moved closer to her.
“Yeah, I want you…” he said in a low and gruff voice. His body was just behind her now. He then leaned down and put his face close to her ear. “Real bad.”
“Simon,” she was flustered as she felt his thumb rub her hips. She was red and embarrassed but she felt her own need pooling in her abdomen. It was a warm and tingly sensation, one he always pulled out of her.
He loved how her body reacted to his touch. Her breath hitched as she spoke his name. His large hand was still planted on her hip while his other hand came forward and put a piece of her wet hair behind her ear. “Say you want me too.” he whispered in her ear.
Her breath hitched as she gasped slightly, feeling his hands trail across her abdomen.
Her hands slowly found his hands as her fingers weaved into his large fingers. He breathed in her scent as he felt her small hands weaved through his much larger ones. He moved his lips up to her neck and gave it a light kiss.
���Tell me you want me…” he said again while his tongue traced her neck lightly.
She gasped as she felt his tongue glide across her skin. “Simon.” She gulped. She felt her mouth go dry as she tried to formulate a sentence.
He chuckled in her ear then gave her neck another light kiss. “Come on, baby girl, I know you want me too.” Ghost left a trail of light kisses up the side of her neck. He then grabbed her hips and pulled her back against him.
She could feel him pressed up against her, her eyes fluttered closed as small moans left her lips. She couldn’t think straight and she wanted to tell him, but she couldn’t find the words.
He let out a soft growl as he heard the little moans escape her lips. He couldn’t get enough and his lips left a trail of kisses on the back of her neck. “Can you feel how bad I want you?”
He pulled her hips back into him more. His body was now completely pressed against hers and she could feel the heat and want come off of him.
“Yes.” She said softly gasping as his large hands trailed her abdomen and slightly under her panties. Her hand was still grasping onto his as he held her sturdy against him slowly grinding against her.
He loved how her body reacted to his. Her soft little gasps and moans drove him wild and her body moving against his was driving him to the edge.
“You like that, sweetheart?” He murmured in her ear as his hand crept further into her panties. “You like how I’m touching you?”
Oh yes, yes she did. He was a god to her when he toyed with her like this.
“Please Simon, I-I…” she trailed off having always been bashful, but she knew Simon was a gentle lover as this wasn’t the first time the two had acted out of instinct. “I-I, want you t-too.” She gasped being at his mercy. “It feels good.” She whined.
He smiled against her neck as he felt his hand reach her most sensitive parts. Her body arching against him and her breath hitching as he made contact. He let out a soft growl as she told him that she wanted him too. The sounds she was making were driving him crazy. “Yeah?” He asked while he slowly started to apply pressure to her. “How bad do you want me mamas?”
She for this hips grind against her ass as she was being hit with so many pleasurable things. She almost felt dizzy and delighted all at the same time. “I-I…” she stuttered.
He bit down on her neck as she ground her hips back into him. He had to take a second to recover from the sudden movement before he started speaking again. His fingers started to circle her most sensitive part. “Mmm… you’re being so good for me, mamas… tell me how bad you want me.”
The man had skill, god did he have skill.
She arched as she tried to focus but his hands distracted her. She gasped and moaned as she couldn’t focus. She whined slightly as his hips still grinded against her.
Simon moved his lips from her neck to gently brush against her ear. “C’mon sweetheart….” he coaxed her again. “I need to hear you say how bad you want me.” He continued to move his fingers against her, slowly increasing the pressure as he heard her sounds getting more needy and desperate. His hips kept grinding against her, his grip on her waist keeping her against him.
“C-can’t think straight,” she uttered, feeling a bit dizzy and overwhelmed. Her head rested on his chest as her head was thrown back in ecstasy.
Simon chuckled softly and he heard the sound of her head falling back on his chest. Seeing her all flustered and a mess was such a turn on for him. He could hear how hard she was breathing and he could feel just how much her body was shaking. He continued to circle his fingers against her while his hips continued their slow but rhythmic motion against her. “I know you want me, mamas. I can feel how much you’re enjoying my fingers.”
“S-Simon, slow down.” You squeaked out. “C-can’t think—“ a deep moan interrupted her. “Bad.” She groaned out loudly. “So bad, Simon!”
Simon smiled as she had no choice but to surrender to him. He was having so much fun watching her struggle to form a sentence. It looked like the only words that came out of her pretty little mouth were his name and how bad she wanted him. “Mmm that’s it sweetheart, tell me just how bad you want me.” He could feel that she was starting to get close as she started squeezing around his fingers.
“So bad.” She pulled her hands away from his as her hand trailed up to her breast.
“That’s it sweetheart…” he could see her reaching up and he almost thought she was going to take his hand away, but as it moved higher he realized what she was doing. He was now breathing heavily as he watched her hand reach up to her chest. He slowly his grip on her waist, wanting to see how far her hand went on her own.
“Just like that.” She uttered as she bit her lip, eyes closing in euphoria. She started to lift her one leg up holding it there for Simon so he could feel her better. Her hand worked on her chest.
He grunted as he saw her leg go up. He grabbed her thigh and pushed against her more. He could feel her shaking in his grip and he could see how her body was losing all control. “F-fuck… mamas,” he mumbled in her ear while his fingers kept their steady movements against her. He pressed his lips to her neck again and started leaving a trail of kisses. “You’re so good, you feel so good.”
She could feel his fingers delve into her core.
She gasped and whined, her back arched as her head was thrown back. He leaned down and kissed your lips softly.
He pressed his lips firmly against hers and let out another low growl as he felt her arching against him. She looked so beautiful like this. In his arms, completely coming undone. He increased his pressure on her and continued his slow but firm circles around her core. He wasn’t surprised when she let out a needy moan against his lips.
“Simon!” she cried out. “Simon, I-i love you.” She gasped as the sensations were getting too strong for her to handle. She gasped when she realized she said she loved him, neither of them had said anything like this to the other before.
She almost felt embarrassed and could feel the pleasure dwindling down because she felt like she fucked up.
Simon froze as he heard her whimper out that she loved him. Never in their time being together had either of them said those words to the other. He was still holding her thigh up and his fingers were still touching her most sensitive parts, but he slowly removed his lips from hers and started to pull his hand away.
“What’d you just say…?” He asked gruffly as he looked at her.
Now she felt like she fucked up, she looked away bitting her lips. Tears welled in her eyes. Now she was being a big cry baby, how embarrassing.
She held them off as she tried to find the words to say. Did she say it was a mistake? Should she say she didn’t mean it when she really did mean every word she said. Did she come out and say she loved him again? It was all confusing.
Simon was completely taken off guard by her saying that. He knew they didn’t have any labels but what they had was more than just some casual fling.
He let go of her thigh and moved his hand to her chin. He grabbed her firmly and turned her head back to him so she’d look at him. He then reached up and brushed the tears away from her eyes. “Say it again, sweetheart…” he said softly as he looked into her eyes.
“I-I love you…” she said quietly.
“Again…” he said with more demand now. He needed to hear her say it again. He wanted to hear that she loved him over and over again. He moved his hand from her chin to cup her cheek and gently brush his thumb across it.
“Say it again, baby girl…” he repeated once more.
“I love you Simon,” she said with a bit more confidence.
A big and stupid smile appeared on Simon’s face as he heard her say it again. He leaned down and gave her a quick and soft kiss.
He then wrapped his arms around her and pulled her flush against him. “F-fuck…you...” His voice was barely above a whisper as he held her tight against him. He was obviously having a hard time finding the right words.
“I love you too, mamas.”
She felt her heart beat pick up at Simon’s words and also at the sight of Simon undressing.
Her eyes lingered in his body as she bit her lip. Her hands clung to her wet white shirt as she rang out the edges gently out of nerves and excitement.
Simon shrugged out of his shirt. The man’s physique was insane. A perfect mix of muscle and scar tissue. His eyes never left hers while she watched him and she could see the heat and need in them.
Simon looked at her and noticed that she was holding onto the edges of her shirt, he tilted his head slightly. “What’re you doing with that shirt, baby girl?” He asked curiously.
She looked down nervously at it, not sure what she should be doing seeing him stripped down into nothing.
He walked over to her and stood right behind her. He looked down at her. The shirt was practically see through but he was still disappointed there was anything blocking him from seeing her body. He pressed up against her. His chest against her back as she was once again very firmly pressed against him. He wrapped his arms around her and ran his finger up and down her arms. “Why aren’t you taking this off, sweetheart?” Simon asked quietly.
“T-take it off?” She asked softly, embarrassed.
He chuckled at her response. He was almost surprised she was so shy all of a sudden. Seeing her so embarrassed was a new but exciting feeling for him.
He leaned down in her ear and spoke with a low and gruff voice. “Yeah… I want you to take it off, mama. I want to see your body… all of it.”
She nodded as she slowly lifted the white shirt off, but it left her in her black lace panties.
As the shirt made its way over her head and her hair fell back he could finally see her. And god was she a sight to see. “Damn…” he growled quietly as he took in the view of her body. The way her curves were shaped, the way the lace hugged her body, everything. He took a moment to recover before he spoke again. “Turn around.” He commanded.
She did that, slowly turning around for him.
Once she finished turning around he just took a second to look at her. He had an almost wild look in his eyes as he looked her up and down.
He was practically salivating at the sight of her so he took a step closer to her. “You’re so damn beautiful, you know that?” He ran his hands up and down her arms. “Look at you. So good for me.”
“S-Simon.” She was so shy right now.
He smiled as she said his name and he saw how shy he was making her. It wasn’t often she was shy like this and he loved it. “You’re so damn cute when you’re all flustered and shy, baby girl.” Simon said with his gruff voice as he continued to run his hands up and down her arms. “And you’re so good for me,” he continued to murmur as he moved his hands down her sides.
She felt her breath hitch. If she wasn’t wet from the water, she would be soaked from his words.
He smiled as he could see she was really starting to get worked up based on the way her chest was heaving and he could hear her breathing getting heavier.
“Lay down for me, baby girl,” he said in a low voice. “Right here on the floor and I’ll take real good care of you.”
She felt the cold water touch her skin as she did as told.
He stood over her and stared down at her. Seeing her laying on the floor, her body now completely visible to him, was a stunning sight. He knelt down, his knee on either side of her legs, and positioned himself right above her. He didn’t move, he was just staring at her body. “God. You’re perfect,” he mumbled.
If it wasn’t for Simon and her nipples already being hard, the cold water would have done it as she gasped at the feeling.
Simon let his eyes take in her entire body as he knelt over her. Hearing her gasp when the cold water hit her skin was an absolute treat. “S-so damn cute…” he mumbled again as his hands slowly ran down her sides and came to rest on her thighs. He gave her a little squeeze before he continued his hands’ journey over her body.
He grabbed his shirt and bunched it up underneath her head as a pillow as he leaned down against her grinding his bare body against her clothed core.
Simon grunted as he felt his hips press against her. He continued the slow grind back and forth as he leaned down and kissed her, both of them still damp from the raining tap water that had spewed from her faucet about fifteen minutes ago. He could feel how warm and wet his body felt against hers. He continued to press his chest against hers and his hips continued to rub against her core. Both of their breathing was heavy at this point.
He then stopped as his fingers looped under her panties.
His fingers were looped around her panties and he was slowly pulling them down while she was still laying down beneath him. He leaned down to her ear and started to talk in a soft and low voice. “Lift your hips for me, baby girl…”
“Simon.” She gasped as she did as told.
He chuckled as he heard her gasp as she did what he told her to do. She was being so good for him right now. “That’s it…” he mumbled as he started to slide her panties down her legs. “God look at you. You’re so good for me, baby girl. So damn good.”
She felt his hands lift her thighs up some as he spread her legs taking a look at her. She squeezed her eyes shut as she felt embarrassed.
He looked down at her, taking in the view of her now completely exposed body. He had been anticipating this sight and it didn’t disappoint.
“Don’t close your eyes, sweetheart, open them for me…” he said in a gentle and soft voice. “I want to look at you.”
If she wasn’t throbbing before—trust me she was—she was surely throbbing now.
“Simon, you can’t say stuff like that.” She arched off the ground. As her hands reached for something of his.
Her arching her back had his chest pressed even closer against her and her hands reaching for him, searching for something on him, only turned him on even more. He chuckled, amused that he was making her so shy and embarrassed. But there was just something about it that made it more exciting. He slowly ran his hands back and forth along her thighs as he spoke to her. “Why not? I want to look at you, baby girl. You’re so damn Beautiful. I want to see all of you.”
She could tell this was a much more emotional and deeply bonding intimate moment then the time he had sex with her the night he broke her door down when she was hiding from him embarrassed at soaps drunk words about how she needed to learn to take care of herself.
This time around the two souls were bounding to one and another as he showed her sweet love. The love he wanted and could provide to her.
This time had been different than that night. It was a more emotional and intimate moment between them. They both knew how they felt about one another now.
Simon gently stroked her thighs, his hands moving slowly up and down her skin. He was completely captivated by her. He was captivated by the way her body reacted to his every touch. He moved his hands closer and closer to her inner thighs before running his thumbs across her core. “You’re perfect, you know that?”
He started gently kissing and biting his way up her body, his lips leaving a trail of kisses on her skin. When he finally got to her neck he spent extra time there before moving up and kissing the corners of her mouth before finally capturing her lips with his.
He slowly and gently started kissing her, his tongue gently tracing her lips, seeking entry. His hands were resting at the base of her head, his fingers playing with her hair.
“You really think so?” She asked as her hands rested on his waist.
“Yeah, I do think so.” He replied as he hovered over her, staring down at her as he replied. “You’re so goddamn beautiful, mammas. Every inch of you.”
“Simon,” she got so lucky having him. “I love you.” She said softly.
The way she said his name, he loved the way it sounded coming from her mouth. Every time she said it, he felt a sudden rush of feeling. Feeling he’d never felt before he met her.
He looked into her eyes, hearing the three simple words come out of her mouth again. Those three simple words were everything to him and he couldn’t hear them enough. “I love you, sweetheart, more than you’ll ever know.” he mumbled as he looked into her eyes.
She smiled as he sat up looking down at her core.
He was big and the two both knew it. She had gotten pretty good at adapting to him. But it still took her a bit to get used to his fit. He knew he needed to be gentle.
His finger ran up her core making sure she was slick enough, and she was. He didn’t have to worry there.
He leaned down and kissed her core before cooing at it.
He leaned down on her and let his lips touch her most sensitive area. He gave it a gentle kiss before he looked up at her. “So damn beautiful…” he muttered. “So sensitive for me, huh?”
“Only for you.” She nodded.
He chuckled as she responded to him. “Damn right it’s only for me.” He grumbled before he took another moment to admire the view. “God,” He groaned. “Every part of you is so perfect, but this…” he mumbled as he looked down at her core. “This is my favorite part.”
His lips touched it one more time. As she giggled at his words. “And here I thought your favorite part was my lips.” She teased softly.
His lips caressed her one last time before he lifted his head and looked at her. He chuckled a little as she teased him about his favorite part.
“You’re pretty cheeky today,” he said with a small smile on his face. “Looks good on you. But don’t kid yourself, sweetheart. I love a lot of parts of your body—your lips included.”
She giggled some more as his head rested on her thigh. He looked at her softly smiling. “You like the way she clings to you.” She said softly.
The sound of her giggling caused his smile to deepen. He could probably listen to it all day.
He chuckled softly and ran his hands along her thighs. “Mmm, I love the way she clings to me. It’s like she's begging me to never stop.”
“Don’t blame her, she knows what she likes.” She hummed as she arched her back feeling Simon leave a hickey on her thigh.
Simon didn’t look away from her thighs as he continued kissing and sucking the skin of her thighs before he left a big hickey on them.
He chuckled as he looked up at her and saw her arch her back. “Mmm, she’s a smart one, ain’t she?” He said in his gruff voice. “She knows I’m all about giving her what she likes.”
“Simon,” (y/n) gasped as her hands touched her chest.
Hearing her gasp his name and her hands coming up to touch his chest was enough to have him aching for her. He didn’t wait for another moment.
He moved out from between her legs and came to hover above her. He had a wild and lustful look in his eyes as he looked down at her. “Say my name again…” he said hoarsely.
“Simon,” she chanted like a prayer as her head lulled back and forth. She felt his member poke at her.
The way she said his name, each time she said it was like she was chanting it, praying to it. It had his body on fire, the need for her was almost painful.
He leaned down and positioned himself right between her legs, his member rubbing her core, teasing her. It was a grinding motion and it was enough to make her squirm underneath him. “Again…” he growled softly.
“Simon.” She gasped out, eyes opening up to look at him as her head was thrown back and she arched.
As she said his name again, her eyes opening and looking up at him, the arching of her back, the gasping as she was on the edge, it was all driving him crazy.
He placed a hand underneath the small of her back and slowly started to press forward. “Again…” he said huskily. “Say. My name.”
“Simon,” it was more blissed out than before. She was gonna reach ecstasy if he kept teasing her like this.
The way she said his name this time, it sounded like she was completely lost in the bliss of the moment. It only drove him wilder.
He held his hips in place, continuing to tease her but not fully giving her what she wanted. “Just say it one more time, baby girl and you’ll get what you want.”
“Simon Riley.” She sighed, cupping his face as she brought his lips closer to hers kissing his lips and then trailing down his jaw. “Please, I need you.”
Hearing her say his name as she took his face in her hands and trailed kisses down his jaw, hearing the need in her voice as she said she needed him, finally pushed him over the edge.
He grunted, his body stilling for a moment before he moved, finally giving her what she was begging for. “I got you, baby girl. I got you right here…” he muttered before his lips met hers.
She felt the pressure as she arched her back. She moaned. Her eyes rolled back in her head.
“Ah, fuck, Simon.” She groaned out.
The noise she made when he entered her made his body ache with need for her. He had never heard anything so good.
He grunted as he felt her arch her back and felt her tighten around him. “Fuck—baby girl.” He gasped. “You’re so damn good for me, so good…” he muttered. “Mamas, that’s it. Take it, atta girl.” He gasped as her pussy fit him so well as he moved at a slow pace. “She’s just eager to greet me, eager to take me. Atta girl, mamas. Spread those legs.” She did as asked. “Mamas pretty girl is just sucking me in.” Ghost groaned.
He cooed to her more as he talked her through the pleasure and pain making her heart swell with love at his actions.
He started moving his hips, slowly and softly at first. He wanted her to get used to the feeling.
He leaned down and placed his arms next to her head so that he was hovering over her. “Shhh—just breathe, baby girl, I got you… you feel so damn good, so damn good.”
She could tell she was losing him to pleasure. She tried to ground him, but her core tightened on him when he hit a certain depth.
When she tightened around him he let out another low moan. He was getting completely lost in the feel of her.
He grunted as his movements started to get quicker and more sloppy. “W-wait baby girl… slow down…” he muttered as he was still trying to ground himself.
“Simon, you’re the one moving.” She mewled and arched.
He grunted when she said his name and she started to wither underneath him.
He realized she was right, he was the one moving. He slowed his movement down, trying to make them more softer and more controlled.
“Sorry, sweetheart, you just feel so damn good…It’s hard for me not to lose control.” He paused for her as she clung to him. His one arm lifted her thigh above his shoulder.
When he finally got completely buried inside her he had to stop himself again. He needed a moment. Being completely inside her felt that good. He grunted and his head hung down for a moment, trying to control his breathing. “Oh fuck!” he mumbled before he picked up his head and looked deep in her eyes.
He looked down at her and saw her eyes closed and a smile on her face. Even just the expression on her face was enough to bring him pleasure. He grunted and started moving his hips again. Starting off with a slow and controlled rhythm.
“You like that, baby girl?” He asked her in a low voice.
Her toes curled and her body pulsed and buzzed with heat. That should have been a good enough answer.
“Yeah,” her eyes rolled back in her head as she arched. “Right there Si!” She begged.
When she said his name again and arched back and begged for him to keep going, it only made him pick up the pace. He needed to hear her say his name again and again. “I got you baby girl. I’m gonna take real good care of you…” he mumbled and he started to thrust faster, making sure to hit the spot that made her say his name louder.
“Simon,” she gasped. “Oh god, so good.” She kissed his jaw with hit open mouthed kisses leaving a hickey here and there.
He panted as he continued to move his hips, each of her gasps and every whine and moan that escaped her lips only pushing him forward. He couldn’t even think, all he wanted was to hear her moan his name more.
“That’s right baby, keep saying my name.” He groaned, his head tilted back, exposing his neck more of her kisses.
Her hands dug into his biceps as she closed her eyes panting, “Simon, can’t think right.” She gasped.
The ecstasy was getting to both of them as they both had blissed out looks in their faces and their eyes couldn’t pull away from one and another.
He groaned and grunted as he felt her fingers digging into his arms. He couldn’t think straight either, all he could focus on was the way she was making him feel.
“Don’t think, baby girl,just let go.” He gave her a sloppy kiss. “Feel me inside you…hmm? Feels so good, right?” he mumbled through his moans.
She wasn’t sure if she could even find the words at the moment as she felt his hands grip the back of her head as his face rested against hers. He was being so sweet to her like usual.
He was completely lost in her. The way she felt around him, the way she gasped and moaned his name, the way she dug her fingertips into his arms. Everything about her drove him crazy. He wanted to give her everything. He wanted to show her how she made him feel. She was so damn perfect.
He grunted into her ear as he held her head up to him, their faces were pressed against each other as he continued to move inside her. “You feel so damn good, mamas. I need you so bad—only you.”
She gasped at that.
“How do you do it?” She uttered as her lips touched his as she spoke against them.
He kept his face pressed against hers, his voice was gruff as he spoke. “Do what?” he muttered as he continued to move his hips forward. He had a feeling he knew what she was going to answer, but he needed to hear her say it. “How do I do what, baby girl?”
She took a minute as she groaned and gasped feeling the intense pleasure.
He grunted as she gasped and their lips touched. Even a soft touch from her lips to his was enough to break his heart and heal it all at once.
He continued to thrust into her, a little faster this time, getting closer to his release. His body was on fire for her.
“How do I do what?” he breathed out, panting as he spoke to her. A few strands of his hair were sticking to his damp forehead.
“H-how—oh god—how do you make it feel so good?” She uttered. “How do you know all the best places to touch me and…” she groaned, trailing off as her body shook from ecstasy.
He chuckled a bit when she began to speak, then cut herself off with a moan. The way her body shook when he hit that right spot was one of his favorite things.
“Do you really think there’s a place on your body where I haven’t kissed or touched, baby girl?” he responded to her. He grunted as he continued to roll his hips. “I do it because I know you like it, I need to touch you. I need to hear you moan so bad.”
She was falling apart in his arms and it was driving him crazy. Seeing her struggling to speak because of the pleasure made him grunt when her body shook, the tightness around him making his body react to her.
“Simon,” she arched. The puddle they were laying in made things slippery still, but not enough to deter Simon.
When she arched her body he let out a moan and grunted loudly.
How was she even real? How did he ever manage to get her into bed with him?
The sound of her core as he moved inside her was like music to him. It was perfect. She was perfect.
Hearing her say his name again, caused his pace to quicken. “Say it again,” he panted out to her. “Say my name, sweetheart.”
“Simon,” she rocked with him gaining some friction. Her arms wrapped around his neck pulling him tighter to her.
Her could feel her perky nipples brush against his stimulating the two of them more.
Simon grunted as her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to her body.
He was completely surrounded by her. Her scent, her voice, her touch, her taste. It was all driving him crazy.
“God,” he grunted as his eyes looked down at her while his hips rolled. Her flushed face was Divine, her parted lips made him want to devour her mouth, and her breathy words and moans made him feral. “You feel so good, baby girl. So damn good.” He mumbled against her skin before he pulled his head back and looked her in the eyes, continuing to pant as he spoke. “Look at me.” His words were hushed and breathy as he was feeling the heat of everything.
Her eyes met his as she gasped and panted squirming a bit underneath him as he kept hitting that specific spot with his hips rolling. She knew that he knew that was her G-spot.
Watching her react as he kept hitting that sweet spot with his hips made him smile. How was she so perfect?
He loved making her gasp and moan his name. It was addictive.
He grunted as his hips moved into hers a little harder. “You know I love it when you look at me, sweetheart. I could never get tired of seeing those beautiful eyes.”
“Having a man as highly addicting as you, telling me that—“ her head was thrown back as immense pleasure rolled over her body. “It just does something to me.” She whined scratching down his chest as his biceps now caged in her head.
The way her head was thrown back and the loud whine that she made caused goosebumps to rise on his skin. It was so damn good watching her fall apart because of him. He grunted and panted as her fingernails scratched down his chest. She left behind little red lines.
Looking down at her, seeing all her perfect features, how did he get so damn lucky with her?
“Does it, now? What does it do to you, baby girl?” he asked her through his grunts and pants.
“It makes my body feel on fire.” Her cunt tightened.
The feeling of her pussy tightening around him was something he knew he would never get tired of. He grunted and groaned as the feeling combined with her words, making him move faster.
“I’m on fire for you too, baby girl.” He grunted out to her. “I’m on fire for you all the time. You drive me crazy.”
“Yeah?” She cupped his face brushing the sweat away.
He leaned into her hand as she cupped his face. Even just a little touch like that had him aching for her. He let out a soft moan and nodded his head before he looked into her eyes. “Yeah,” he mumbled, panting and grunting. “I’m crazy for you, mamas. All the damn time, you don’t even know. I’m just trying to control myself from losing it for you all the time.”
Her hand touched her chest as her other hand touched his swirling around his nipples. It sent him into a tizzy.
When her hand touched his chest and her hand went to his nipple, he let out a loud moan. It was sensitive for him as well. He arched his back a little bit and let out a shaky gasp. “God, fuck! You’re gonna break me, baby girl. You know how sensitive I am there,” he grunted.
“Sorry.” She didn’t stop though, she kept rubbing and flicking with both hands now. So, his thumb found her clitoris and rubbed it in smooth circles.
He chuckled when she said she was sorry, but didn’t stop. It felt too good for either of them to stop.
He let out a low moan as his breath was shaky.
Her rubbing the sensitive skin of his nipple and running his thumb over her clitoris had them both whimpering. They were both really sensitive to each other’s touch.
His face hung down as he let out a loud groan. “Don’t be sorry, baby. I love it.” He hummed. “You’re just driving me crazy though.” He lifted his head and looked into her eyes, his own eyes looking very dark with desire.
“Simon,” she cooed softly. He didn’t think it was possible but her legs spread even more.
When she spread her legs more, taking him deeper, it got a loud moan out of him, and he buried his face in her neck. “Fuck, mamas, fuck,” he panted out against her skin. “You’re going to be the end of me if you keep this up. Can’t think straight when I’m with you like this. I’m addicted to you, maybe I’m obsessed with you.” He nipped at her neck.
“That feels good for you Simon.” She cooed softly as her back arched. “Feel so good, hmm?” She brushed a hand through his hair.
He groaned into her neck as her words. “It feels so damn good, mamas. Never felt like this with anyone.” Those words made her feel like she was soaring. “I need you, mamas. Always. All the damn time.” He growled out as his hips rolled into her faster. “No one else. ” he mumbled against her skin. He panted and grunted, continuing to move his hips. “Need you so damn bad. I’ve never wanted or needed anyone so damn much as I need you, baby.”
His words could push her over the edge, but add the sex itself and she was driven mad by the end of it.
She felt her abdomen tighten as her release was coming. She clung to him as her moans and breath got faster and louder. She couldn’t think straight, she couldn’t even see straight. Her eyes focused on Simon as she called out his name like a prayer to some god who she had devoted her whole life to. Simon was her god and she would devote her life to him if he asked.
There it was. His favorite sound.
He loved it when she said his name. He never could tire of hearing it, especially when she said it like that.
He panted and grunted as she panted and called out to him. Her body was clenching around him tightly, her walls squeezing him as her release approached.
He could feel her body reacting to him, how tight she was getting… and it made his mind go blank. Nothing else mattered to him. It was the end for him. He couldn’t keep it together anymore. Hearing her call out his name and feeling her squeeze him was too addicting.
“Oh god mamas.” He kissed her lips. “I’m close…
so damn close.” Every moan and every gasp she let out as he kept moving his hips was like music to his ears. He was addicted to the sound of her voice and saying his name was like a drug. His most addictive drug.
Then the bough broke. She could feel the flood gates release and her whole body was in euphoria. Was that a god before her? A god that made love to her in no ways a mere mortal could.
When she came, her body arching underneath him, it was all he needed. Feeling her squeezing him, listening to her moan his name, all of it sent him over the edge.
The curve in her back as she arched against him chanting and praising him through a prayer of his name.
He let out a loud and shaky moan as his body tensed, his release overtaking him. He buried his face in her neck.
“Oh god!” He growled as his thrusts were uneven just trying to ride though his own orgasm and hers. “Oh fuck mamas, that’s all you baby, that’s all you! Fuck!” he growled into her skin.
He continued to twitch as his body tried to ride through his release. He was gasping for air, his face still buried in her neck. She wasn’t in any better shape.
“God, mamas, never felt anything like that before.” he mumbled in between breaths, his body still shaking.
She let out a wail of a moan as she stopped twitching herself.
The sound of her moan made him shiver, he could have sworn she could have him coming again with a sound like that.
“Bloody hell,.” He muttered as his body went a little weak on top of her. “You’re gonna be the death of me, baby girl, I swear to god.” He chuckled.
He looked down at her smiling face and gave a weary smile back at her. He was so tired but seeing her smile just made his heart melt.
He started to kiss her face softly, peppering her forehead, cheeks and nose with gentle kisses. He was praising her. His perfect and beautiful baby girl.
“Okay, mamas, let’s get you cleaned up.” Simon picked her up softly carrying her up the stairs knowing she would need to relax. Aftercare was important to him and he was going to run her a nice warm bath while he fixed the faucet. He returned after about an hour.
“Such a good mamas.” He cooed softly as he found her sleeping in the tub. “Faucets all fixed mamas.” He cooed as he kissed her forehead watching her stir awake.
“Thanks, Si.” She smiled. “Let’s call takeout.”
“Good idea, mamas.”
Needless to say, if you asked her what it was like being neighbors to the 6’4 SAS soldier she would have three words to describe it.
‘Pleasurable’, ‘greatful’, and ‘hers’.
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lovelywritinglady · 8 months ago
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Hi I've been reading a lot of your fan fic for a while and one I would just like to say they're great and awesome. But two I was hoping to ask you if you could make this into this fan fiction
where it's swap Audible and Tengen Uzi is a Upper moon that is secretly dating a hashira (male reader if possible)
Thank you so much! I’m glad you like my content!💜
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Demons Love
Demon Uzui Tengen x male!Reader
In which reader and Uzui are dating and no one knows…
Fluff, Wholesome themes, mentions of blood, slight violence.
Your pov
‘Dammit Uzui! You gotta keep a lower profile.” I barked at my boyfriend. As the two of us stood in a dark alleyway.
“I know I’m sorry, I just can’t help it. You’re so flashy and strong.” Tengen replied with a wide fanged smile on his face.
“Thank you, but as you know, no one can know that your my love and I’m yours. A gay relationship is already taboo, but a hashira and a upper moon is much more taboo.” I reminded him.
“I personally don’t care.” He shrugged leaning in and stealing a kiss on my lips.
I melted into his kiss. Allowing him to hold me close to him as he shoved his tongue into my mouth. I then moaned pulling him closer. Despite him being a demon, he sure was attractive. From his fuchsia eyes to, his fanged teeth, bulging muscles, and pale skin. He was like a god.
Tengen then pulled away letting me breathe. A massive blush graced my features as he looked at me with hunger in his eyes. I could tell that he wanted me, but this just wasn’t the time as we were in the middle of a battle. A battle that I had to fake considering I didn’t kill my love.
“God you’re handsome.” Uzui complimented still holding my bloodied face.
“I know I am and so are you.” I flirted back as I wiped some dirt off his gorgeous face.
“You know, you didn’t have to go so hard back there. I think those kids know you’re strong.” He teased.
“I know, but I need to make them believe that we actually hate each other.” I responded in a no duh tone.
“Fine, wanna go back?” He asked in a annoyed and saddened tone.
“I guess so, just kiss me first.” I demanded as I captured him in another heated kiss feeling slightly sad that we couldn’t continue…
Our battle together destroyed an entire town and all the whole neither of us were really trying. Uzui has a tendency to try and show off even though I’m fully aware of how strong and flashy he is. We pretended that he got away and was too scared of daylight to continue any longer. This exact scenario has happened only a few times, but I’m concerned that someone will catch on. But I really don’t care. As long as I have him I will fake fight as much as possible to keep him. And I know he’ll do the same, even though he’s a blood thirsty human eating demon.
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Thank you so much for reading💜 And thanks to the person who requested this fic! Also, sorry I made it so short my writing bug hasn’t been super strong lately.
Please feel free to like, comment, request, and reblog.
Click here to see what I’ll write for and HERE for my mater list.
•I do NOT own any characters except y/n•
-L.W.L
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saintwyfe · 2 years ago
Text
࿐ ˚ . ✦ PDA. jude bellingham
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summary. you and jude in the corner of an event doing little couple things :p
cw. none
word count. 528
"you’re not uncomfortable, are you?" 
he lowered his head, his breath hovering over the hem of your neck. 
"no, i’m fine. i promise, my love," you said, chuckling as your hand brushed his neck.
being about the sixth or seventh time he’s asked you this since you’ve been at this event, you found it incredible how much he needed reassurance about your security. you couldn’t complain, though. the extra attention was nice.
you two were intertwined in the bay of the busy venue. being an award ceremony, cameras were ubiquitous, and interviews were being conducted all over the room. luckily, he’d already appeared in a few, so you basically had him all to yourself for the rest of the night, excluding the instances of small talk exchanged with random acquaintances of his, of course.
his left hand gripped your waist, making sure everyone knew you were his (which simultaneously kindled your relationship's publicity). every now and again, he’d pull you in closer, and out of curiosity, you’d look up at him to make sure he wasn’t signaling for something.
your eyes darted to the side of your torso that he’d been latching onto when he pulled in slightly tighter again. instinctively, your eyes darted to his to make sure he wasn’t in trouble. unbothered, he’d just been scanning the room, watching his professional counterparts interact with each other. it took him a few seconds to realize that you’d been staring at him, and for the moment his eyes met with yours, you smiled. 
he hovered over to the nape of your neck, rhapsodizing, "you look so, so gorgeous tonight." he pulled away, grinning. 
for a second, you wanted to hide your flushed face, but your eyebrows just furrowed as you retained a gushing smile. "yea? i do?" you queried.
he nodded, repositioning you so that you were facing each other rather than side by side. "you do." he followed, "i can’t believe you’re mine. all mine." he pushed a strand of hair behind your ear while stroking your cheek along the way.
you bit your lip, preoccupied with scanning his angel-like features. you were taken aback when he did that eyes-lips-eyes thing (iykyk). it was difficult not to tremble—you couldn’t handle the butterflies. though you two have been dating for a hot second, there’s still a nervous pit you get in your stomach whenever you interact with him, let alone display affection.
you fluttered your puppy dog eyes, clueless of his temptations, forcing him to initiate something. 
"you know, it’s so hard to try not to kiss you right now." he muttered, almost whining.
your eyebrows furrowed, letting out a small chuckle. "mm, then why don’t you?" you teased, cocking your head.
he shook his head, his hand reaching to cup your cheek before crashing his lips onto yours. his lips were soft and cherry-flavored from his lip balm. it was easy to drown in them. his other hand skimmed your back, pulling you closer to him and immersing you deeper in the kiss. your arm found itself cradling his neck for extra support. before you could pull back, you felt and quickly recognized a bright white flash in your direction.
click.
an: hmmm finally tumblr decided to cooperate with my posts? don’t even know why my tags were bugging for months but expect a post soon <3 thank u for 4k+ notes while I was gone, lygsm.
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lovebugism · 9 months ago
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hi bug!! for your shy!reader requests, idk if you’re going smutty w them but if you ARE: I love the concept of reader being generally pretty quiet, which extends to r’s sex life bc they’ve never thought to b otherwise… enter Hawkins’ own loudmouth DM who takes it upon himself to coax every noise out of reader that he can 💖🫡
ty for requesting! here's my first attempt at smut on here since 2023 :D — eddie teaches his quiet gf how to be louder in the bedroom (shy!fem!r, smut 18+)
Eddie’s face appears from beneath the covers — pale cheeks flushed, chestnut hair wild. He’s still got his ringed fingers wrapped ‘round your thighs, clutching you with the same intensity he’d had when his face was shoved between them. 
He blinks at you with chocolate eyes and drags his tongue across his lip. His pink mouth is softly swollen with use and glittering with your honey. “Is this okay?” he slurs between labored pants.
You lift your swimmy head from the pillow and peer at him through the valley of your breasts, rising and falling with each deep breath. You nod until the words catch up to you. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s— it’s good,” you answer breathlessly, though you don’t think that describes the half of it.
There aren’t enough words in the English language you could string together to describe how he makes you feel. How good he is with his tongue. How you’re throbbing clit still pounds like a heartbeat for more of him.
“Okay. Good,” he huffs with a lazy nod. 
His fingers fidget around your thighs when he shifts on the mattress, wincing slightly when his sensitive cock ruts against it. “I just… I wanted to make sure, you know? ‘Cause you weren’t… You weren’t really… Saying anything.”
He forces out a chuckle to keep the honeyed mood light while horror floods your features. Your eyes soften around the edges with worry. “What was I… What was I supposed to say?” you squeak.
“Nothing!” he answers quickly, eyes going wide when he senses your panic. “It’s just… Most— Most people moan when they feel good and stuff…” His lip quirks in a lopsided smile before a laugh sputters from them. “I mean, you’ve heard me. I’m fucking loud.”
He is. He’s more than loud, actually — full of gruff moans, pretty whimpers, and neverending praise. He never leaves you with an ounce of worry when you’re with him ‘cause he’s constantly rambling about how good you feel.
“Fuck, baby, that’s good— Oh, shit,” he babbled while he fucked your mouth, some minutes ago now. He whimpered after, high-pitched and faraway.“Gonna make me cum— so fucking hard— in your pretty little throat. Fuck, angel. Fuck—”
You writhe on the mattress, feeling suddenly uncomfortable in your own skin. 
You become acutely hyperaware of how bare you are below him, with his face mere inches from your glistening pussy and his chocolate eyes swimming with warmth. You feel more naked than you already are. Totally fucking see-through.
“Sorry,” you murmur sheepishly. “I just… I guess, I’m just quiet. I don’t know.”
Eddie smiles like he isn’t wearing your slick all over his chin. “That’s okay,” he assures with an innocuous twinkle in his eye. “But you don’t have to be. You know that, right?”
You blink at him until you realize the question isn’t rhetorical. 
His smile falls into a mischievous smirk when you nod. 
“Be as loud as you want for me, yeah? Make all the noise you want…”
—————
He’s a menace.
Eddie Munson is a total fucking menace.
He doesn’t eat your pussy like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. No, he takes his good and well time with you — like he plans on doing this, and only this, for the rest of his life. 
Your inner thighs are slick with saliva. His spit drips down your ass, along with your honey, as his tongue laps mercilessly at your cunt. Slowly, gently, agonizingly. It’s like he can’t help but be so sloppy. Like he can’t help but drool all over your pussy ‘cause he loves it so damn much.
“Eddie, please,” you whine through heavy pants, clammy hands cradling your knees to keep them spread for him. “I wanna cum, Eddie. Please, I wanna cum.”
If he’s doing all this to get you talking, well, it’s fucking working.
His mouth smacks when it parts from your sensitive clit. The delicate button is as swollen as his lips are now. His pretty face is utterly blissed out — mouth rosy, eyes lidded, cheeks flushed. Like he’s found heaven in your pussy.
“Shit,” he huffs with a crooked smile, still a bit breathless. “You taste too good… Got me all distracted… Wasn’t tryin’ to tease you, babe, I swear.”
He pulls back the sticky hood of your cunt with a ringed hand. You keen when his thumb rolls over your throbbing clit. “Fuck, Eds,” you gasp — back arched, head thrown back.
“Need it that bad, huh?” He chuckles quietly when your hips buck into his hand, desperate for more. 
“Please, Eds,” you beg with your eyes squeezed shut. Tears burn in the very corners of them, stinging like you might cry at how good he’s making you feel. At how badly you want him to make you cum.
Spit dribbles from his pursed mouth onto your already slick pussy. He rubs it in with guitar string-calloused fingers, and your toes curl into the sheets. “Wanna cum?” he slurs, blinking slowly at your trembling form with pretty button eyes. “Wanna cream on my tongue?”
You whine at the vulgarity of his words — and at the lightning strike that rushes down your spine when his merciless fingers graze your pulsing clit. Swallowing down a sob, you nod rapidly against the pillow.
Eddie kisses your pussy like he would your mouth. Your honey clings to him when he pulls away, smirking up at you with glittering lips. “Then keep talking for me, yeah?”
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sohnric · 9 months ago
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KISS STAINS — E. SOHN
pairing: eric sohn x fem! reader
genre: fluff, situationship to lovers ?? poor eric is a little confused, but he is very much in love.
word count: 1.7k
warnings: the reader is titled as "girlfriend", misunderstanding/miscommunication
a/n: this is a late valentine's day fic because it wouldn't appear in the tags on wednesday and i had to wait to get home to fix it >:( !! thank you @/from-izzy and beloved @/csenke (as always) for beta reading o:)
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When the front door to your apartment opens up in front of his eyes to reveal you staring at him in surprise, Eric can’t help but feel a little confused at your expression. You’re wearing a mini dress– one of the black ones that hug your figure just in the right places– makeup adorning your face and making your gaze twice as much magnetizing to the boy through the layer of eyeliner tight-lining your eyes. He suddenly feels a little silly for coming up to your apartment in a casual outfit– as far as he was concerned, neither of you made reservations to go out, though.
“What are you doing here?” you ask, making Eric twice as confused. Still, you let him inside your place, stepping aside from the doorway and watching as he trails after you like a lost puppy, a pouty look playing with his features.
“Well… it’s Valentine’s Day,” he says, as if the reason wasn’t already clear enough before. Scratching the back of his head, he offers you the flowers he’s been holding in one hand, watching as you take them with big eyes that only soften when you bring them up to your nose and breathe in the scent of your favourites. “I thought we were staying in today…?” he asks, pointing at your outfit that’s very obviously meant for going out.
“Oh,” you look at him, tone of voice almost a little ironically surprised as you walk towards your kitchen and take out a vase, pouring water in it and placing the bouquet inside. Eric was too busy with practice to get you any reservations outside, and although he was sure he could sneak you in somewhere in a mediocre restaurant, he was thinking you two could just hang out at your place instead. He liked the idea of cuddling with you in bed much better if he’s being honest. “I’m getting ready to go out, though.”
The sentence catches Eric off guard. He watches as you walk back over to your bathroom and plug in your hair straightener, sectioning your hair into thirds so you can work on your hairdo more efficiently. The boy follows you in, staring at your expression through the mirror. “Why…?”
“Well… You never asked me to be your Valentine, Eric,” you shrug as if the reasoning was the most obvious thing in the world.
The boy instinctively furrows his brows at you, the argument making him a little taken aback. Sure, he never asked– but the only reason was that he thought he didn’t have to. “I assumed that was a given,” he hums, watching as you touch the hair straightener to see if it’s hot enough to use on your hair, “besides, you could’ve asked me to be your Valentine too! This is the 21st century, men don’t have to do everything…”
Your expression morphs into frustration– a clear sign that the fact that Eric didn’t ask you to be his Valentine has been bugging you for quite some time now and he hasn’t noticed until now. It makes the boy feel a little bad. Had he known it was important to you, he would’ve asked you, no big deal. The thing is… he really didn’t think he had to ask in the first place.
“Why did you assume it was a given?” you ask, scoffing. 
Eric watches as you run the hair straightener over strands of your hair, yet the usual concentration on your face when you do so leaves your expression and is replaced with a look of irritation. Your eyebrows are furrowed and there’s a wrinkle in between them, rendering the boy speechless. “Because… we are dating…?” he says, eyes staring into yours through the bathroom mirror.
A snicker leaves your throat at his argument. “Correction– we went on a few dates.”
Now, this has Eric Sohn even more speechless than before. He didn’t think there was much difference between dating and going on dates, but now he realises that your mind is perhaps even more complicated than he thought it was before. “So… we aren’t dating?”
The question leaves his mouth before he has a chance to stop it. His mind is swirling around with all the dates you two have been to. It’s been two months since the two of you started dating– well, what he assumed was dating– and never once has he doubted that this is what you two were doing. He took you to the arcade and let you win on a few of the machines. He took you to the amusement park and bought you all the cotton candy your heart desired. You two took photo booth pictures and he keeps the strip in his wallet. He told you he loved you when you went on a late-night walk a few weeks after your first date, and since then, every day at least once. Hell, he even brought you over to his dorms and didn’t dismiss his friends when they started calling you his girlfriend after you left.
Because in his mind, that’s what you were. His girlfriend. Because you two were dating. You did all the things people in relationships do– you hold hands, you kiss, you sleep over at each other’s houses– you are intimate… 
Are you two not dating?
“You’ve never asked me to be your girlfriend either,” you shrug, combing your hair before you move to straighten another piece, making the boy fall into a momentary silence.
Has he not? Well, if he really thinks about it, that’s true. He hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend, because after the shift you two made from being friends to going on dates and being rich in PDA, he thought his intentions were obvious. Somehow, in his lovesick mind, the moment he asked you out on a date was the moment you two started dating– and when you say it like this, it makes perfect, logical sense, doesn’t it? 
Obviously, now that he thinks about it, it doesn’t. “Well, I just assumed… is this not exclusive?” he asks, his heart suddenly dropping into his stomach.
“Well, you never asked for that either,” you shrug.
“So that means you are seeing other people?” Eric clarifies, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Never in his life did he need a response to his question to be negative as much as in this moment.
Your eyes meet his in the mirror, something behind your gaze shifting when you notice his distressed expression. Eric recognizes just how anxious he looks in your bathroom mirror, and before you give him a chance to crumble, he hears you chuckle. “I am not. Are you?”
“Well, up until this moment, I thought we were in a serious, committed relationship, so no, Y/N. I am not seeing other people,” he says, an airy laugh escaping his throat.
Staring at each other’s expression in the mirror, Eric watches as you sigh and put the hair straightener down on the sink, turning your body towards his. His eyes go wide as you stare at him with your warm orbs, fondness and tenderness now mirroring your gaze– a big contrast to the stern look you greeted him with upon opening your front door. 
To Eric, the progression of your relationship was natural. He took it as it came, admiring the shift from being friends to something more, and never once questioned the direction it was heading. He loved you– of course, he always thought of you as his. To Eric, the love you two share for each other has always been habitual. 
He never asked you to be his, because in his mind, he was already yours. It was as obvious as that. No second guessing– he was always sure of what you two had.
“You’ve been telling people that I am your girlfriend?” you ask, voice quiet, tender, yet almost amused– pleased.
“Well, was I wrong?” he hums, locking his eyes with you directly now, laughing.
“We never had the talk.”
“I didn’t think it was necessary,” he says.
Watching you roll your eyes, the misunderstanding now vanishing into thin air– he leans in and presses a kiss to your red lips. When you pull away from him, a soft giggle resonates in the four walls of your bathroom, a finger pointing to his lips. “That looks good on you,” you hum as the boy looks at his reflection in the mirror.
Red lipstick is smeared all over his lips, a messy imprint of your affection. He finds himself smiling at his reflection, a lovesick look warming up his gaze when he looks back at you. “Does it?”
“Yeah,” you hum as you stand on your tippy toes and press another peck to his face– now reaching for his left cheek instead. Eric’s arms come to hold your sides, helping you balance as you press wet kisses all over his face, wherever you can reach. He feels you glaze his other cheekbone, the tip of his nose, his chin, the very middle of his forehead. Two kisses placed on his temples, a hearty giggle escaping your throat when you peck his jaw and the side of his face, only pulling away to admire your masterpiece.
“Just so we are clear,” Eric clears his throat, finally verbalizing the thoughts he’s been keeping to himself– the thoughts he assumed were clear as day and didn’t have to be said out loud or clarified, “will you be my Valentine, then? Or my girlfriend? Both, actually?” he asks, heart leaping out of his chest when you laugh at him and thread your fingers through the hair on his nape.
“Well, I kinda assumed those two go hand in hand, Eric,” you hum to him like a secret, and he can’t help but roll his eyes at your punctuality.
“Is that a yes, then?”
“Let me think about it–” you joke before you burst into a screechy laughter, having Eric’s hands prop below your knees and hoisting you up onto the bathroom sink. 
The boy leaves another kiss on your lips before he pulls away and admires your face from up close. Eric Sohn likes pretty things and your face is so far his most favourite. And when he catches his reflection in the mirror– his face full of lipstick kiss stains and a dumb, lovesick look in his eyes– he’s almost happy for all of the confusion. 
See, as the hopeless romantic he is, although he hates to admit that he hasn’t been dating you for the past two months like he thought he has been, he doesn’t really hate the idea of your anniversary being on Valentine’s day: the holiday of love.
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lovelettersforthedamned · 11 months ago
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I just read this and 🥹🥹
https://www.tumblr.com/lovelettersforthedamned/736383346194694144/okay-this-request-might-be-a-little-specific-and
Could you do a part two?? Where Peter finally knows from her telling him because he’s still worried something is wrong between?
The Parkers
--genre: FLUFF, slight angst
--pairing: husband!tasm!peter parker x pregnant!wife!reader
--word count: 0.9k
--warnings: language, reader is pregnant, anxiety, one mention of nausea, FLUFF, peter loves his wife and her overthinking so much.
lowkey was waiting for someone to ask for a part two because i love this fic so much...
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It was half past nine when you and Peter decided to head back home. The party was winding down, and after a cleaning up, May seemed like she was ready to hit the hay as well. With one last hug for everyone left in the living room, Peter leads you out the front door. 
As soon as the two of you stepped into the night, a shiver ran up both of your spines. A quick glance at each other signaled that it was absolutely freezing. Peter immediately pulls you into his side and starts to rub his hand along your arm at a fast pace, a simple attempt at trying to warm you up. You giggle at his action, looking up at him and his now rosy cheeks, admiring your husband. 
You must have not noticed how long you were silent, Peter broke it, “You sure you’re alright, bug?” Peter still thinks that there’s something wrong between the two of you. The thought was eating him alive as you’ve been silent the entire walk home. 
Your body tenses at his question, and with you still pulled into his side, he felt it too. May’s get-together was a good distraction from the very real situation you’ve found yourself in, and Peter's question brought back all the anxiety you felt earlier today. The hairs on his arms raised at the sudden nervousness radiating off of you. Even though your anxiety is urging him to speak, he allows you the time to respond. “Oh–um…Yeah, everything’s alright. I just need to talk to you about something,” your voice wavering, didn’t help either your or Peter’s feelings right now. 
Peter clears his throat, “Yeah, what’s going on?”
All of a sudden, you feel hot. Even a thin sheen of sweat appears on your brow, but the last thing you want is for Peter to let go of you. Your pace slows as you muster up the courage to tell him about everything, the test, the nausea, the conversation with Miriam, all of it. “Peter, I-I’m,” you take a sharp and deep breath, not daring to look anywhere but the pavement, “I’m pregnant.”
And still, with the words leaving the tightness of your throat, you still don’t feel any better. As you wait for any sort of response from Peter, you feel worse. 
You finally pry your eyes away from the gray cement and to the warm brown eyes of your husband. You two look at each other for a prolonged moment. You’re so nervous, but you can’t bear to pull yourself out of the trance of Peter’s eyes. 
You sigh, as you begin to speak, more like ramble, again, “Fuck, I know I should have told you as soon as I found out this morning, but I was, still am, nervous. And I also know I have no reason to be nervous, especially around you, but everything about this scares the shit out of me, but it also makes me so excited? I just have a lot of emotions right now, and I don’t know how to–.”
You're quickly enveloped in a bone-crushing hug, Peter rocking you two back and forth. He lets go of you as he brings both of his hands up to your face, “I’m gonna be a dad?” 
His entire reaction throws you off guard as you look at his features, “Uh…yeah, Pete. You’re gonna be a dad.”
A little giggle leaves his mouth before he leans his head down to kiss you softly, but passionately. The tenseness in your shoulders dissolves as you kiss him back. You two probably look crazy to others walking or driving down the street, but neither of you cared for them. 
With one last peck, Peter pulls away from your lips with a wide smile on his face. He brushes a stray hair that fell into your face behind your ear as his eyebrows furrow, “Why were you so nervous baby?”
“I don’t know,” you start, “I know that we’ve talked about kids before, but now, it’s real and I didn’t know how you were going to react.”
“Oh, bug. I will always stand by you and with you through whatever life throws at us. This is pretty big, but I fully believe that you’re capable of amazing things like being a mother, and with me, raising a family. I love you so so much (Y/N). Forever and ever.”
Peter always can bring a tear to your eye just off the way he loves you. You never knew how much you could love someone until you met Peter, and you were silly for ever thinking that his love for you would dull due to something like this. 
“You know, Miriam caught onto me earlier today?”
He leads you into a casual stroll as he recoils in disbelief, “No way. You just found out, how could she know?”
You shrug, “Said she could ‘see it in my face’.”
Peter laughs, grabbing ahold of your hand, and giving it a soft squeeze, “Maybe she’s magic…You know, May said that she once knew if her patient’s baby was a boy or a girl. And she was right.”
“Well,” you look at your husband, “we know who we need to go to when one of us wants to buy a lottery ticket!”
--author's note: EEEKKK!!! YAY A PART TWOOOO!!!!! peter loves reader so much omg its sickening. i need to write dad!peter more bc damn, i need him. be sure to like, comment, and reblog if you love what you see. my asks/inbox is open to send requests!!! ok, bye ily<3333
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krypticcafe · 10 months ago
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How do you feel about CoD boys in a monster au? Whether they’re the monster or their s/o is the monster, I just think it would be neat. I’m partial towards werewolves but honestly I love anything that goes bump in the night. I LOVE the idea of a monster being afraid of hurting their partner but their partner knows that they could never hurt them. If you’re open to monster requests, I have so many ideas. Just… monsters, man
oooo are we spitballing bc I love throwing around ideas!!
I absolutely love monster AUs, one of my faves is @/bluegiragi's and I'm sure you all know that iconic one. I'm totally open to monster/hybrid requests, and a detailed list of what other things I write can be found in the cafe's Customer Service Policy aka rules :]
And monster-related plots? I'm a sucker for that shit, need more of that and monster!reader.
If I were to make a Monster Hybrid AU with my own specific ideas though, hmm...
Powerful and stoic, Price would make a great minotaur (lower half of a bull). Sure, maybe his back isn't what it used to be, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have the strength to send you back to your maker. Every step he takes on base acknowledges his presence, a posture that demands respect from its witnesses. The horns on his head aren't something to mess with either, though it takes him ages to scrape out the dried blood from the cracks and tailor his bucket hats.
On the other hand, the canine hybrid for Soap is oddly charming. Similarly to a werewolf, he would have the senses of one, but as a just hybrid, he's unable to fully transform. Instead, he's equipped with features like ears, tail, fangs, some fur on his arms and legs, and a longer tongue. I can see him being a border collie, the Scottish sheepdog just makes sense. But a kelpie/merfolk would also work with his callsign. Soap, a mischievous water spirit known for "cleaning out" rooms of enemies? A body with slick scales, gills, and a frilled mohawk when in monster form? Yeah, I can definitely see that.
For someone with a Queen's honor, a phoenix feels right for Gaz. Bright and burning wings and tail—a light that feels regal and elegant, yet so youthful and lively at the same time. With him in the sky, you're guaranteed to be safe under his watch. Or maybe a cervitaur with those doe eyes of his, gorgeous as ever. Yet equipped with a kick that's sure to shatter the ribs of those who mock him for being just a faun with a pretty face.
Undeniably, with such a specific callsign, Ghost can't be anything other than a wraith. Maybe mix in a bit of demonic blood, soul-eater tendencies, or even marks of an incubus for a little extra kick. His scars look more like shadowy cracks in his skin, smoke pours from the concerningly realistic skull he wears, he looks more like a reaper than a spirit. Regardless, this man is a shadowy phantom that provokes the fear of gods in whoever he sets his target as.
Roach, sure maybe his energy is fitting of a satyr or something more fitting and urban for our token American, like a roach version of Mothman. Bug wings and scales similar to the structure of an exoskeleton, But Roach came to be for being nearly indestructible, like the bug. In fact, it would be more accurate to call Roach, Roaches, as a bogeyman with a human body that can crumble into a swarm of those insects would explain why gunshots and explosions can hardly stop him.
Like Ghost, we can't deny who Hound is, either. Werewolf. Anything less would be criminal. For fun, mix it in with a bit of hellhound hybrid biology, so that he has to either go as a full hellhound or a human with hellhound features. Eyes that burn like Tartarus and a fanged snarl that even Cerberus would shudder at. Maybe even make him in charge of a hellhound K-9 unit, forced to face the very thing he fears.
As for the Reader? Well, that's up to you. Personally, I'm a little fond of shapeshifters. Might need to draw some of these ideas sometime...
Ah well, just some thoughts I had. Any other spitballs you guys have?
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