#day 30+ of my period and damn | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

themultifanshipper · 2 months ago

Note

Do you think you could do something like this

https://www.tumblr.com/themultifanshipper/759431110157631488/quiet-innocent-reader-x-lando-like-lando-finds

Maybe with Oscar ( love your writing)

If Oscar had to describe your sex life in one word : Vanilla.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that! God knows how much the two of you enjoyed the sex you had. You weren’t very experienced when you met Oscar, and you were quite a shy person.

Which is why Oscar was so shocked when he found what appeared to be a list of your kinks just sitting there when he got up to make his morning coffee.

Fun fact, this request was sent over a month ago, and i only have a couple more to do before i can get to my own stuff lmao

Warnings: innocent reader, Smut, PinV sex, rough sex, dirty talk, mention of lots of kinks n stuff

Part 2

He hadn’t meant to get a glimpse into the inner workings of your sexual psyche, but really, who leaves something like that on the kitchen counter???

As he read it over and over again, his cock twitched in interest and got progressively harder until he put it down, the words seared onto his brain forever.

He tried to have a cold shower but just ended up jerking off furiously to completion imagining doing all the things from your list.

But as soon as he got out of the shower and dried off, he realized he was still achingly hard. He decided to put on a pair of his loosest joggers and go about his day while he waited for you to come back from work.

It wasn’t easy, but he managed to answer a whole two emails, internally debating the moral implications of communicating with his bosses while sporting an erection.

Then he jerked off again.

It did take the edge off for a bit, but every time he thought about it during the day he couldn’t help but fist his cock at the thought of all your filthy fantasies.

When you got home, you didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, and you did your usual routine: shower, skincare, dinner with a glass of wine, followed by watching something with Oscar, the two of you huddled up together on the couch.

That’s when you started noticing Oscar’s behaviour.

It was very subtle, but you could tell he wasn’t at all focused on the movie, periodically fidgeting around uncharacteristically. Oscar was usually very settled, and tonight it was like he couldn’t keep still for more than 30 seconds. You also noticed his breathing was irregular, often getting shallower as he fidgeted.

Oscar couldn’t care less about what was happening on the screen, his brain was focused on the same thing it had been all day, that damn list.

And he’d been hard all day, which certainly didn’t help his internal crisis.

“Oscar” you sighed, pausing the movie “Talk to me, tell me what’s going on with you tonight”

“Nothing’s wrong, why would there be something wrong?” his mouth said, but his flushed cheeks were proof that he was hiding something.

If looks could kill, the one you gave him would have certainly done the trick.

“I… full honesty?” he asked quietly.

You nodded “Full honesty”

He closed his eyes and sighed. “Okay, but you can’t get mad at me”

You narrowed your eyes at him “That’s not a promise I can make, but I’ll do my best”

He bit his lip before taking your hands in his.

“I uh… I found your list”

You just stared at him. “What list?”

“This one…” he took the piece of paper out of his pocket where it had been burning a metaphorical hole in his hip ever since he’d found it.

He handed it to you, but you didn’t need to unfold it to know what it was. I was a bright pink piece of paper that had been ripped out of your diary the night before.

You completely froze, panic overtaking you.

“Oh my god. Oscar…” You couldn’t look him in the eyes as you tried to explain “you weren’t meant to find that I’m so sorry! I was going to throw it away this morning and I guess I put it down and completely forgot about it. Fuck- please don’t think I’m weird or whatever and just forget about it, okay? Please?”

You put your head in your hands and whined in distress. This couldn’t be happening. Your loving boyfriend had just learned about your depraved fantasies, and he was never going to see you the same way again.

“I can’t forget about it baby, I spent the entire day jerking off about it”

You head snapped up to finally look into his eyes, your jaw hanging in disbelief. You could tell he was dead serious and your gaze slowly trailed downwards towards his pants, where you could tell he was hard, then back up to his face to find him biting his lip so hard it was turning white.

“you- what?”

“Sweetheart, I got so hard when I read it, I almost got in my car to come and get you from work. I want to do every thing on that list with you” he leaned closer to you and whispered “Every. Single. Thing.”

His arm wrapped around you and pulled you closer to him, lips coming to brush against your neck. “especially number 3…”

You glanced at the list, seeing what he was referring to and gasped.

“Oscar!”

He chuckled into the crook of your neck.

“Who knew you were so dirty, hmm? Where have you been hiding all this time?”

“I- I didn’t know how to ask” you stuttered as he nipped at the skin of your shoulder.

“That right? Well ask me now, then” he said and you frowned in confusion.

“What?”

“Ask me. Go down the list, and ask me to do those things to you…”

His lips trailed down your body and his hands pushed you to lay down on the sofa as you spluttered in confusion. “I don’t- what?”

“What’s the first thing on the list?” he asked, he knew of course, but he needed to hear you say it.

You blushed, checking the list.

“Choking…”

“Then ask me to choke you”

You shuddered as his mouth continued downwards and his hands spread your legs, one of them pushing your flimsy pyjama shorts to the side to expose you to him.

“Oscar what-“

“I want to see how wet you get just from saying it, go on then.” He ordered and you keened as a finger dipped through your barely moist folds.

“I want you… to uhm” your blush deepened and Oscar smiled at you condescendingly.

“Go on baby, you can do it”

You gulped.

“I want you to choke me” you squeezed your eyes shut at the admission, but Oscar was having none of it.

“Now fucking look at me and ask me again”

You gasped and your eyes flew open to look at him.

“I want you to choke me!”

“Good girl” he stroked your thigh “Next thing?”

You glanced at the list still clutched tightly in you hands.

“Spanking.”

Oscar cocked his head to the side. “What about spanking?”

Your jaw clenched, the fucker knew how to get what he wanted.

“I want you to spank me”

He smiled and nodded for you to continue.

“I want you to fuck me over the balcony for everyone to see” you said, and Oscar’s pupils dilated as he used his fingers to spread you open for him.

“Yeah? Want everyone to see how fucking filthy you actually are?” You whined as his thumb came to dip inside you briefly before rubbing it in slow circles over your clit.

“I want you to degrade and praise me…”

He felt like he was barely holding on to his sanity at this point.

“That’s so hot, fuck.” He palmed himself through his sweats “You want to be my good girl yeah? Want to be my good little slut? Only thing you’re good for anyway…”

You whimpered, his words making your whole body heat up, and took a deep breath before continuing.

“I want you to fuck my mouth”

He had to grip himself through his pants to ground himself, your words having an enormous effect on his composure.

Where had his sweet little innocent girlfriend gone?

“I’ll fuck your mouth baby, make you fucking drool for it, god you’d look so pretty taking me down your throat”

You were definitely wet now, and he took the liberty of sliding a finger inside you and hooking it upwards just to watch you squirm as he rubbed that special spot inside you.

“I want you to tie me up and force me to take it” you said breathlessly.

The noise he let out at that was animalistic as his wide eyes found yours and his jaw went slack as he pulled his pants down just enough to get a hand around himself.

“You have no idea how hot you’d look all tied up and helpless under me baby, it’s making me so hard just thinking about it..”

You moaned as he added a second finger inside you.

“I want, fuck- I want you to use me, and fill me up with your cum whenever you want”

“Shit.” He hissed “Fuck baby, I’m going to fill you up so good, you'll see…”

“Please”

You hadn’t realised how close you were getting, but Oscar’s expert fingers were making you delirious as you continued.

“I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk, want to cry from how good you feel inside me, wanna beg for your cock”

Oscar growled and pulled his fingers out.

“Then beg”

He settled over you, putting his weight on you, his dick resting against your folds as he panted into your mouth.

“Beg for my cock, slut”

You were so fucking turned on. Dominant Oscar was something new, but so, so incredibly hot you would have done absolutely anything to have him inside you at that moment.

“Please, please Osc, I need it. I need your cock so bad, please!”

He growled and slid in to the hilt without warning, making you moan into the heated kiss he was currently giving you to distract you. He was thick and the stretch was delicious as his cock dragged along your walls, making you see stars.

He started a deep, hard pace and his hips slapped against yours, obscene sounds filling the room.

“Fuck baby, so fucking wet for me. This what you wanted all along? For me to fucking ruin you on my cock?”

“Yes, Oscar, fuck!”

He chuckled darkly.

“That’s a good girl, so fucking tight, You’re getting close aren’t you? I can sweet your sweet pussy clenching around me, trying to keep me inside...”

He gripped your hips harder and angled his thrusts upwards, nailing your g-spot, and you were a goner. White spots danced in your vision as the pleasure overcame you, cunt spasming around Oscar.

“Perfect, perfect cunt. And it’s all fucking mine” he growled as he finally spilled inside you, filling you to the brim and forcing a pathetic whimper out of you at the new feeling.

Oscar had never come inside you before, and it was insanely hot. The feeling of your slick, hot walls pulsing around him was pure heaven and he couldn’t wait to test everything on that list.

After you’d regained your breath, you chuckled silently to yourself while stroking Oscar's back.

If this is what you got for leaving your list out, maybe you should tell Oscar about your box of toys in the in the back of your closet…

#my thots #oscar thots #oscar piastri #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x reader #op81 #ask #request

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tonyboneysblog · 5 months ago

Text

MOTHER HEN: PART SEVEN

parings: hawks x mother!reader

wordcount: 3.2k

warnings: none

notes: daddy’s…home? genuinely so excited to write the next chapter cause if you notice the timeline, something big is coming😈😈

summary: you, the mother of Fumikage Tokoyami, are just a simple nurse! Who caught the eye of a certain pro.

You haven’t gotten a text from hawks in the past four days, which puts you in a sour mood.

technically it’s a little bit of your fault for kissing his forehead- but if the little shit would have just let you explain…

what’s even worse is that your unable to watch the sports festival- fucking hospital job.

And when you finally get home from that hellhole, Fumikage will be sassy cause you weren’t able to watch him.

He wouldn’t be angry just..slightly disappointed?

Then when you cuddled up in your nest yesterday you see that damned hawks plush you spent 30 dollars on…

So here you are at this amazing place of work! against your will of course.

Currently you’re at the water station- until you were rudely pulled away due to a pro hero getting hurt…as usual.

You open the door to see a younger, dark skinned woman with white hair and the cutest bunny ears on her head.

She looks at you and starts waving happily…your heart would feel warm if it weren’t for the blood on her face.

“Names Mirko!” Oh, you know her! Your sister used to be obsessed with her…well for a short period of time but still obsessed no the less.

“Mirko, how you feeling today?”

She sends you a thumbs up, “terrible!”

You chuckle softly and walk over towards her, accompanying another one of the doctors.

“What’s her condition?”

The doctor sighs, “nothing too serious, we ought to check her for a concussion though..and she’ll have to at least spend one night here.”

“With those injuries it should be longer no?”

The doctor shakes his head, “can’t keep Mirko tied down for too long.” Then proceeds to just…walk out.

But Mirko doesn’t let it stay too quiet.

“So, your name is?”

You smile softly, “ Y/N Tokoyami.”

Mirko looks like she’s pondering for a moment..looks as if she knows you from somewhere.

“I swear I’ve heard that name before..” she says quietly.

You smile again, “you probably have, so is there anything you need?”

Mirko puts her attention back onto you, “nah, I’ll be alright.”

“Really, Why’d the doctor call me in then?”

“Because I complained my ass hurt, I’ve been laying in bed all day.”

You chuckle, “that all?”

She nods her head quickly.

“Well, let’s hope you don’t get a bed sore kay?” You shoot a thumbs up towards her, same she did to you earlier.

Then you walk out, wondering why she even needed you…

But Mirko knew why, hawks told her you were nurse and she wanted to she what all the fuss was about.

Truthfully, he’d been talking about you every time she saw him while on patrol.

She supposes his ramblings are correct, you’re cute.

Then again Mirko has never really pinned hawks as the mamas boy type, and you echo the motherly type.

But you’re sweet, maybe that’s why he’s so attracted to you?

So, Mirko pulls out her phone to bother hawks about his little high school boy crush.

she took it the the group chat though, little asshole.

BEST PROS.

carrot foot

Found ur gf hawks

caw caw bitch

what

caw caw bitch

where

jorts

who?

carrot foot

Hospital

INCOMING FACETIME CALL

Mirko sighs and answers it.

“Where is she, she look cute?” Hawks says frantically.

Mirko shakes her head, “again hawks, get a grip.”

Mirko can hear the wind howling into the phone, of course hawks is flying while on the phone.

“Answer me.” Hawks says sternly.

Mirko immediately starts rambling about the very small amount of information she has on you, “Damn you got a mommy kink or something, cause that woman is a MILF. I mean M.I.L.F.”

“What- what the hell does…no?” Mirko can pick on hawks confusion through the phone.

“Hawks, man, that woman echos mother. Here she is mothering throughout the halls of a hospital!”

“Mirko, what’s your point here.”

“I mean she’s hot dude, get your head in the game…or in her i don’t-“

Mirko can then her hawks yelling loudly out of shock, “GROSS MIRKO, DONT MAKE JOKES LIKE-“

If he yelled any louder you could probably hear him in the halls.

Mirko laughs loudly, “Don’t get your panties in a twist, I’m joking.”

Then there’s an uncomfortable silence on the phone, a little too long for comfort.

but then of course hawks breaks it- as him usually does.

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind…”

Mirko starts laughing again, “aha! Damn dirty bird- go get your wings ruffled elsewhere man!”

Hawks responds quickly, ignoring Mirko comment.

“I gotta go- I see a best jeanist and I’d like to go pull his ear.”

Mirko huffs, “fine, but he isn’t your wingman-I am.”

Hawks laughs softly and hangs up, leaving Mirko in silence.

Until you walk in.

“Oh, there’s my favorite nurse!” She beams.

“Do you mind if I watch the sports festival in here? My kids in it..”

Mirko nods her head, “I don’t mind- need to look for recruits anyways.”

So, there you and Mirko sit watching the sports festival together.

Many times throughout it you had to put a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from screaming and alerting the others your not technically working at the moment.

but during every break in the sports festival, you rushed and did your actual duties as quickly as you could.

Then when you came back, and the 1V1 battles have already started.

And of course your gorgeous boy conquers and destroys the competition.

One after another, what was most surprising to you was seeing todorokis and midoriyas fight, aggressive and raw.

made you vividly remember that was the boy who tripped on his own ice..

You were a little scared that’d he have to face your Fumikage.

Instead it was Katsuki Bakugo who faced him, and after that fight he’ll be the only kid who doesn’t get your end-of-semester cookies.

I mean cmon! Grabbing your son by the beak?! Unbelievable…angers you to your core because who does he think he is?!

But it’s fine.

Fumikage would’ve won if it were anyone else.

But Fumikage still got third, and you can shove it in all your friend’s faces that your son is awesome and that they could never.

Because Fumikage is one of a kind.

You look over to Mirko after jumping for joy for your son’s new shiny medal.

“He’s a good fighter, y’know I know someone all birdy like that.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yea, hawks.” She says bluntly.

You can feel the color drain from your face, hawks low key, high key broke your heart after your last interaction.

“Oh… well I’m sure Fumikage will consider an invitation from him.- if he wanted to work with him.” You say while tapping your fingers together.

Mirko pulls out her phone, typing something, you don’t know exactly what but…it’s whatever.

carrot foot

yea your cooked bud

caw caw bitch

what

Mirko seats down her phone next to the table, where you can hear it buzzing loudly…

“Uhm are you gonna check that?” You say nervously.

“Nah, he’s fine.” She says as she finally relaxes into the bed she had been complaining about all day apparently.

“Ah…okay?” You then hop out of the seat, making your way back to your work.

You should get him an apple pie to celebrate, or maybe just straight apples cause Fumikage will go crazy either way.

Hawks briefly crossed your mind again, what was his favorite again? Wasn’t apples you know what…it was probably something dumb- just like him…

dumb, dumb, dumb man.

enough of him, you have work to do…

right after you call Fumikage!

It rings, but he doesn’t answer? Which is weird because Fumikage always answers his phone unless it’s dead.

Yes that’s probably why, he’ll call you right back when it charges.

But Fumikages phone was in-fact not dead, he was just…distracted?

Fumikages eyes squint slightly, “What could you possibly want.”

It’s hawks he’s being so standoffish with, but hawks just sends him a soft smile.

“It’s the sports festival, of course I’d be here.”

“You decide to stalk me instead of my mother?”

Hawks goes quiet, his carefree smile faltering.

“Not exactly..we got in a small spat.”

“If you’re trying to get me to talk to her for you, it’s not gonna work.” Fumikage starts to walk away before hawks grabs his shoulder.

Then dark shadow comes out.

Hawks steps off slightly, “that’s kinda freaky…”

“Kinda like your face.”

Dark shadow looks over to Fumikage, “that wasn’t even a good comeback.”

“Shut up dark shadow.”

Dark shadow scoffs and folds his cute little shadow arms with what looks to be a pout on his face.

Hawks face completely loses the carefree smile, “I’m serious when I say I’m not here for you…well not technically.”

“What do you mean by that.”

“Yea, what do you-“

“Dark shadow…”

Hawks lets out a small breath, “I was interested in you being my sidekick due to the skills you showed off on the fie-“

“Not interested” Fumikage says curtly.

Dark shadow whips his head over to look at Fumikage with surprise, whispering something in his ear.

“He’s number three- you can’t just reject an offer from him!”

“I can, and I just did.”

Then it’s silent, Fumikage doesn’t mind though.

Hawks sighs softly, putting back on the smile Fumikage hates so much.

“Well if you ever rethink it, my agency will always be open.”

“I hope retribution comes for you in the darkness of your home.”

Hawks stays quiet but then his face twists into confusion, “what does that even mean..?”

Fumikage huffs and if he had hair he would most likely flip it whilst walking away.

Fumikage leaves hawks standing outside, utterly confused in what Fumikage was even talking about.

Maybe that’s what you meant when you said Fumikage was unique…

speaking of you, you were still at that darn hospital.

Fumikage was aware of that, you always worked a lot but the times that you weren’t working you tried your best to spend them with him.

Until Mr. Pro-Hero decided to come into your life..

The first time Fumikage really noticed your relationship with hawks was when you had the talk on the balcony.

He knew he wasn’t going crazy when he thought someone was under a blanket, a blanket you don’t even use may he add.

Then the next day when he went up to your balcony, the blanket was in-fact no where to found.

Then he caught him in your kicthen, Fumikage debated on even eating the cookies because maybe hawks terrible aura rubbed off on them.

They were delicious but that’s not the point!

Then hawks wanders into Fumikages home, which was locked, uninvited looking for you.

Only time Fumikage could tolerate hawks was when he had to save you from the bar.

But then his tolerance shot down when he walked in on the two of you coddling each other.

Then he heard the “little spat” you and hawks had which is why he rushed into your room so fast.

Honestly, who does that damn fowl think he is?!

Fumikage explains all of this to poor dark shadow, who truly just wanted to watch a movie with him.

“Sounds rough.” Dark shadow says quietly.

Fumikage huffs, “It’s worse than rough dark shadow, it’s appalling.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be so…extreme with hawks- Momma seems to like him.”

“Correction, liked, my mother will never participate in any romances with that man again.”

Fumikage ends the conversation there, but dark shadow would like to expand on the topic.

“It was nice of hawks to offer you that side kick position.”

“well being nice doesn’t cut it.”

Finally, the conversation about hawks is finished, Fumikage only ranted for 4 hours this time!

And he’d finished 3 movies in that time as well…maybe the hospital will let you off early.

So Fumikage and dark shadow fight the urge to rest, which they both utterly fail and fall asleep on the couch.

You come in around 5:30 so they never stood a chance, not after the day Fumikage had.

You walk into the door, spotting only Fumikage.

You stumble over towards him, sitting on the floor and brushing your hand through his feathers.

Fumikage is knocked out, so he won’t wake up if you pick him up.

You use all your remaining strength to pick Fumikage up, making your way towards your bedroom.

It’s been a minute since Fumikage got cuddles from his mama.

And also you seriously doubt you could carry Fumikage back to his room, then walk back to yours without passing out onto the floor.

You place Fumikage under the warm covers, then yourself.

You then wrap your hands around Fumikage as tightly as you possible could, as if someone would take him away if you didn’t.

Then you rest, same as Fumikage.

Same as hawks.

And hawks truly needs to thank you for whatever you did to make him stop having those nightmares.

barely dreams now, and if he does it’s always weird shit.

usually has you in it too.

nevermind, you probably cursed him and overrode whatever put that nightmare spell on him.

a curse that just makes him dream about you.

Now he really wishes he talked Mirko into getting a picture of you, he misses you bad.

Maybe a text wouldn’t hurt? No, too risky- you’re probably still mad at him.

Maybe he could worm his way back into your life with that weighted blanket, if his plan worked he could probably steal it back anyways.

It still smells like you, which is weird because he’s had it for awhile.

That’s probably his favorite part of the day now, getting home, taking a shower, cuddling into his mostly bare bed and just sniffing that shit like it’s coke.

Kinda like how some people spray lavender onto their beds to get sleepy, he just smells the hell out of that blanket.

He wishes he was able to snatch another item from your house that smelled like you.

Fumikage doesn’t really smell like you, he noticed.

He smells kinda like wood? And also a little fruity too.

You wouldn’t really guess fruits and flowers from looking at him but maybe your scent rubbed off on him too.

Honestly, hawks kinda feels like Edward when Bella first walked into that classroom though- hawks wouldn’t be covering his mouth to avoid the smell, he would be INHALING that smell.

He would never admit that the night that he comforted you out on that balcony he didn’t even go home and change, he kept that uniform on.

The coat didn’t truly smell like you, but the under shirt did.

Maybe he’s going a little crazy, sure he’s real kept together most the time but- the things you do to that poor man.

And Mirko- peacefully sleeping in the hospital, she may be hawks wingman but she needs her rest too!

And when you wake, you’ll have to go right back to the hospital.

doesn’t men’s you can’t talk to your son before you leave though.

“Mama.” Fumikage says sleepily, awoken from you moving all around the room.

You perk up now your son’s awake, “Fumikage?”

Fumikages eyes a still closed, fighting to go back to sleep.

“Did you see me, in the sports festival?”

You run your hands through Fumikages feathers, “Course’ I did.”

Fumikage smiles softly, “guess who talked to me after..?”

“All might? I saw it on-“

“No it was hawks, invited me for an internship.”

You jaw slacks slightly, “did you accept?”

“No, not after what he’s done.” Fumikage says with a little rasp in his own voice.

“You should’ve.”

“What?”

You sigh, “hawks is number three- doesn’t matter what he did to me Fumikage.

Fumikage stays silent, suddenly now regretting telling you.

“But…”

You kiss his temple, “thank you for thinking about how I’d feel though. Don’t let my emotions or relationships get in the way of your future.”

Fumikage nods, understanding your point of view.

“Are you leaving for work?”

“Yep, it’s not a long shift though.”

You open your bedroom door, “I’ll see you later, Fumi.”

Then walking out of your own house, making your way to the hospital.

Once you walk in, your infact greeted with Mirko!

and hawks.

“Ah, my favorite nurse!” Mirko cheers excitedly.

“Mirko! Shouldn’t you still be on bed rest?”

Mirko chuckles, “glad you’re worried about me toots.”

You gasp a small bit at the nickname, “Oh!”

Mirko places her hand onto her hip, “Hey, didn’t I see you hear like 7 hours ago, why you already back?”

“Duty calls?”

Hawks chuckles at that, wasn’t even funny.

Mirko throws an arm around hawks, “this was the birdy boy I was talking about!”

“We’ve met.”

suddenly there was an awkward silence.

Hawks wanted to throw himself out a window, you wouldn’t even look at him.

Mirko taps her foot nervously.

“Hawks…” you say his name softly.

His head perks up form Mirko hold, “yeah?”

“Sorry that Fumikage rejected you…I know how he is.”

Hawks can feel his heart beating in his ears, “it’s all good- doors always open.”

You nod softly, looking away.

The three of you just stand there in silence, Mirko foot tapping repeats.

Then she breaks, “Mrs Tokoyami, sorry for holding you up-You got a job to do!”

You jump in surprise, “ah- your right, it was nice talking to you both!”

You quickly walk away to clock in, Mirko and hawks make there way outside.

She scoffs, “had the perfect opportunity.”

Hawks rolls his eyes, “I wasn’t gonna apologize to her in a hospital.

“I’m going to put you in the hospital/ what the hell even was that back there?!” Mirko exclaims.

Hawks pushes her arm away, “I was nervous.”

“Doors always open!” Mirko mocks him.

“Oh quiet down.”

“I’m your wingwoman- giving you a perfect chance and you fuck it all up.”

“It wasn’t that bad-“

Mirko smacks the back of his head, “Hawks, shut your trap.”

Hawks doesn’t reply, walking next to Mirko throughout the less populated areas of town.

Mirko snaps her fingers, “You know what, I can fix this.”

“You can?”

“Of course I can, I’m Mirko.”

Hawks groans softly, already annoyed by the days events.

Mirko starts her plan, “clearly she cares a good bit about her son-but there feeling are mostly separated for different things.”

Hawks nods along.

“So instead of getting all cushy with her son again, you need to fix it with her- clearly your not gonna getting through with her son based on what you told me earlier.-“

Hawks interrupts, “her son is always home though.”

“Don’t interrupt me, he goes to U.A. I bet they have some trip for passing the exam.”

“How are we supposed to find that out?”

Mirko groans, “let me talk, I’m always going to that hospital for some reason- I’ll find something out…she likes me unlike you.”

Hawks looks away with a pout, “Don’t say that…”

“I’ll say whatever I want, I’m your wingwoman.”

Hawks and Mirko continue their walk up until they get to his agency, since Mirko doesn’t have one.

Though Mirko continues walking, “See ya later, Hawkey.”

“Where are you going?”

“To my house?- don’t fuck up anything else while I’m gone.”

Hawks huffs lightly, walking into his own office.

He has so much paper work to do, then the commission will be badgering him later for “doing it wrong” according to them.

He can’t wait to just be home.

Be home next to you.

or…your blanket at the very least?

…he really needs to fix this.

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loliwrites · 3 months ago

Text

VI. Love

pairing: joel miller x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+, minors dni warnings/tags: jackson era!joel, sharpshooter!reader, enemies to lovers [ish], age difference [joel is mid 50s, reader is early to mid 30s], joel lives forever fight me, canon compliant violence, SMUT, basically pwp, oral [m & f receiving], fingering, brief handjob, unprotected p in v sex, choking, blink and you’ll miss it anal play, and then real anal play, just a couple pussy pronouns (come at me, jk don’t), terms of endearment [babygirl, pretty girl, little girl, you get the gist], periods, female reader, reader has hair long enough to pull, no physical description, protective!joel, no use of y/n. word count: 8.3k series masterlist a/n: the culmination! I’ve had so much fun with this fic and i hope y’all have thoroughly enjoyed

⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾

Joel exhaled deeply through his nose. The sound was followed up by the feeling of his hand cradling the back of your head; fingers twisting in your hair and giving a tug close to the roots. Between your own deep inhale through your nose and the relished moans that vibrated around his shaft in your mouth, you also heard all the little things Joel whispered to you in a stream of consciousness.

Yeah babygirl, that’s it. And… that mouth feels so good wrapped around my cock. And… look at you. Doin’ so good for me, pretty girl. And… wanna feel you choke on me. That one came with a particularly hard thrust up of his hips that had the head of his cock bumping up to the back of your throat which made his ask a reality.

You sputtered around his length, saliva dripping down your chin and you pressed down against his hip, pulling yourself back from him just enough to not be triggering your gag reflex. You flicked him a glance – something a little playfully scolding. He responded by letting his chest bounce with a soft laugh and his fingers relinquished their grasp on your hair, trading it for a soft pat on the back of the head.

“Sorry,” he grinned and sucked in a deep breath when you lowered your lips on him again. Concave cheeks that tightened around his shaft was nearly the end of him and he lowered his head back on his pillow, eyes pinched shut. “Where’d you learn to give head like this?”

To the best of your current ability, you smiled. Lips tightening even further around him. And with firm pressure, you pulled your mouth off of his length with careful attention paid to the head. A couple slow swipes of your tongue over his slit before you removed him from your mouth completely. You shot him a coy smirk, and curled your fist around him to administer long, slow strokes. “I’ve got a lot of skills,”

“That you do,” he agreed, adding just the slightest bit of pressure to the back of your neck to guide you back down to him. “Though this might be my favorite of them,”

The way his body reacted to your touch was more than enough evidence of that. His member throbbed in your hand, and when you succumbed to the press of his fingers on your head and secured your lips around him again, precum dribbled out of him and re-coated your tongue. There was a finite amount of time to finish him off – it was why you preferred not to partake in this type of activity in the mornings. At least not on patrol days.

But Joel had looked so damn beautiful this morning. Early morning light coming in through the window and hitting his lashes. The slight downward curve of his lips – displeased even in sleep. The gentle rise and fall of his chest; steady. All of that paired with how he’d looked after you in the past couple months. How he bathed you when the soreness and bruises intensified at their height. How he changed the bandages on your wounds with the preciseness and routine of a no-nonsense nurse. And how when all the physical signs of the attack faded, he remained steadfastly dedicated to ensuring that the psychological repercussions didn’t rear their ugly head and send your progress backward. So that’s why you pushed the sheets down this morning and positioned yourself between his legs. Why you untucked him from his underwear and started upon this oh so delicious task despite the time constraint.

His member twitched in your mouth and you flicked your eyes back up to his face. His eyes were glued to you, jaw had fallen slack. You knew that look on his face all too well. He didn’t have very long left. And with a quick glance at the clock on the bedside table, that was for the best. Joel came with a strangled moan, his come flowing out of him and directly into your mouth. Your prize for a job well done. Proud that you’d since moved on from him pulling out and needing an extensive amount of time cleaning up the aftermath.

It all happened quickly. His orgasm and you swallowing it down. Before he’d even had time to fully catch his breath again, you were backing up and pushing yourself up from the bed. Even managed to catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror propped up against the wall to make sure there wasn’t anything too egregious looking about you before you ventured out into the rest of the house in case Ellie was around, too.

“Hey,” Joel called from the bed. He’d paused long enough for you to look at him before he continued, “let me return the favor.”

“Can’t,” you said back, pulling open the bedroom door. “Work,”

Joel tilted his head back and glanced at the time, quickly coming to the conclusion that you were right – there was work to be done. The first time the both of you would be moving on from the creek trails and heading back to the lodge where you’d gone on your first patrol together all those months ago. After the… incident… Tommy had thought it important to send you back out on patrol as soon as you were strong enough to do so. More specifically, thought it was important to send you back to Elk Creek as a sort of exposure therapy. Joel, of course, had something to say about it, though it was to little avail. Your first patrol back out had indeed been to the trails, and every patrol since had been there. Now apparently, you were free from purgatory.

⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾

Your horses walked side by side, the lodge now just a couple hundred yards away, looming in the distance. Comfortable silence had settled between you and Joel not long after you’d left Jackson. That’s how it normally went now. No reason to fill the silence with words; just happy to be riding along together. The way it could have been in another lifetime. It also wasn’t lost on you how different this trip to the lodge was from the previous one. How last time, Joel rode behind you, nervous as all hell you were going to turn around and shoot him. How you’d gotten inside and embarrassed the hell out of yourself asking him how they went about violating their women on patrol. How you killed those two runners while Joel stood beside and watched.

Things were certainly different now. For starters, your little dilapidated cottage went mostly unused now. All the belongings you’d collected had since moved into Joel’s house. It was just easier that way considering you spent most of your days and nights there anyway. Though your cottage occasionally saw a visitor. Ellie. Joel balked at the idea of her living all on her own at the cottage. He simply wouldn’t allow it. But when tensions started to run hot between them, she’d spend some evenings there for a little extra space. Joel learned to be alright with that as long as she came back at an appropriate curfew of eleven o’clock. And not a night went by where Joel wasn’t up listening for the sound of the garage door, indicating her safe return home.

Your relationship with Joel had also changed vastly. You figured that was the only reason he told you about Sarah. It wasn’t something he would’ve disclosed if he didn’t think you were close. Serious. He told you how he got the scar on his temple, too. How life just didn’t matter for a while. Not until he met Tess. And then Ellie. Though he didn’t say it out loud, you knew what would’ve culminated that thought: and then until he met you. But Joel kept his emotions close to the vest. Never gave away too much through words or expressions. It was like learning a foreign language, analyzing all the things between the lines.

“Hey,” Joel called from his horse, just a few feet away from yours. “I gotta tell you somethin’,”

Far be it from Joel to preface anything he had to say instead of just saying it. Though with your gaze fixed ahead on the ski lodge, the intrigue you felt by what he’d say was tempered by the image of the main entrance door on the lodge open. Instead of seeing the thick natural oak door, you could only see darkness – cluing you in that the door had either been blown, left, or forced ajar. It seemed that Joel followed your gaze and found the same thing you had.

“You stay out here,” he mumbled, pulling his rifle out of the scabbard and propped the butt against his thigh.

You flicked your eyes at him, nearly rolling them to the back of your head, “fuck that.” Digging your heels into the belly of your horse, you got it to take a quick trot forward, but all at once, Joel’s horse was perpendicularly in front of your horse, intruding on its path.

“I mean it,”

“You know what’s really gonna piss me off today,” you cocked your head to the side. “If you die. Take the front, I’ll go around back.”

Your horse got moving again with spectacular speed. The type of speed that ensured Joel would have to abide by your rules. Your terms. And he did. Begrudgingly. You swore you heard him mumble his displeasure under his breath, but it was all mixed in with the wind zipping past your ears as you worked your way around to the back of the lodge.

From what you could tell, the back of the lodge seemed to be secure, and though you dismounted your horse and hitched it to an old, rotted post away from the view of the large windows on the first floor, everything seemed to be in order back here. No doors or windows were ajar. Had you come up on this building from this vantage point originally, you’d never even think twice about going in. Yet, still with the utmost caution, you stayed out of view from the windows, ducked around and crouched with your rifle poised in your hands and duck-waddled to the staircase that led up to the second floor balcony where you and Joel had first posted up on that first patrol together.

Thankfully there was no one out there like you two had been. If there had, there wouldn’t have been anywhere for you to run for cover. Just standing out there like a sitting duck, ready to be shot at. But even on the second floor, none of the doors or windows had been propped open. Nothing to make you think that anyone had holed up inside. Even while on patrol, you’d tended to open the windows of any building you happened to be in. The ventilation was needed. After a couple decades of stale air and death, a through-breeze was appreciated.

You slung the rifle strap over your shoulder and pressed your hands flat to the dusty glass of one of the windows at the library. Hopefully, whomever had left the front door unlocked and ajar, had also forgotten to lock one of the windows. That first try was no luck. Locked and gathering cobwebs like it’d been shut for a good, long while. Second and third tries had the same outcome as the first, and with the fourth try, you were about to give up and go back downstairs when that window suddenly slid upward beneath the force of your hands. With an extra pause to make sure there were no out of the ordinary noises coming from within the room, you crawled through and tiptoed forward while simultaneously swinging your rifle back into your hands.

There still weren’t any unusual noises; nothing you could pinpoint as being a threat. So unless there was someone very clever inside that had spent so much time in here as to know where all the creaky floorboards were, you knew everything was clear. Knew that whoever had last been on patrol here just hadn’t secured the door as well as they should have. You made a mental note to check the log book for the culprit. Still, you did your due diligence of doing a walk-through of the upper floor. Though you had to admit you held your gun a little looser than you would’ve on a normal patrol.

You wandered through room to room, allowing yourself the patience to move at a leisurely pace. An abundance of time passed and feeling certain no one else was in the lodge, you shouldered your rifle, though still spooked when Joel came up behind you and set his hand on your arm. Only when you saw his rough, calloused hand there did you soften and turn toward him.

“You’re no good at listenin’,” he mumbled and looked down at his other hand. Your gaze followed his whereupon, he raised it a little higher. And held between his fingers, the stem of a delicate white, woolly flower. Edelweiss. Joel thrust the singular flower in your direction and waited for you to pluck it out of his hand.

“Where’d you get this?”

“It’s growin’ out front now,”

You twirled the stem between your thumb and index finger, watching the flower go round and round. It brought a smile to your face. Something this simple during the apocalypse. Who would’ve thought. With your mind and attention elsewhere, Joel’s hands migrating to your hips and tugging you closer to his chest brought you back to this very moment. A glow seemed to wash over his face; your eyes meeting his was all that was needed.

“Joel Miller picks flowers?” You mocked, allowing him to pull your rifle off your shoulder and set it on the old, wooden table beside you. To your utmost surprise, the table didn’t buckle beneath the weight of it. Surely, you thought, it would.

Joel smirked and crowded your space until your backside hit the edge of the table, just barely rested on it. It didn’t buckle then, either. “Don’t tell anyone,”

The softness in his expression, you could tell this wasn’t going to be one of your more serious patrols. This happened occasionally. When things were quiet. Especially since the coming of early summer. When it first started happening, Joel would get this look on his face – similar to the one he was giving you now – and you knew what he was after. He’d be all clumsy hands and lingering touches. Giddy like the schoolboy he must’ve been in the 70s. And when you began to request it on patrols, your method was a little more forceful. Direct words and hands. Joel never was good at picking up on hints. So when the face gave you the inkling, the slow hand he raised to the center of your chest to feel your heartbeat was the confirmation. It was odd seeing him like this; even if you had grown increasingly familiar with it. Though now many moons since you’d first stepped foot through the gates of Jackson, Joel’s capacity for tenderness never ceased to amaze you.

Because he hadn’t always been this gentle. No. You now knew of his wild youth. And the years he spent before the Boston QZ, when survival had nearly taken every last shred of humanity from him. He’d opened up because you’d asked him to. Asked him to let you in and make a home there. He’d been all too willing. Never bristled at any of the countless questions on the topics. Never shied away from telling you the truth even if it wasn't pretty. Because of all that, you now got to see him like this. With gentle hands, he helped you back further on the table until your feet dangled below. You brushed your fingers back through his hair in silent adoration while he stared at you with equal adoration.

When heat rose in your cheeks, you reached forward and looped your arms around his neck, clasping your hands behind his head. “What’d you want to tell me earlier? Before we saw the door?”

Joel pursed his lips and leaned in for a kiss. Maybe if he wooed you with something mind-blowing enough, you’d forget you even asked. So he slipped his tongue into your mouth and lapped against yours, nibbled on your bottom lip, and gave you the most passionate kiss he knew how. But you still pulled away from him, albeit with glazed over eyes, and took an extra breath to steady yourself despite the dampness you felt between your legs, before cocking your head to the side to await his answer.

He smiled softly and took your chin between his thumb and index finger, “‘m happy I didn’t shoot you that day.”

You barked out a hoarse laugh and rolled your eyes while simultaneously dropped your hands to his ass and pulled him closer to you until his crotch and chest were pressed up against yours. Then with playful bites, you nipped at his whiskered jaw, “M'sure you would’a found someone else to fuck.”

“Probably,” he laughed when you squeezed his ass, jaw dropping in shock at his answer. He bowed his head and nimbly undid the button and zipper on your pants. “But I don’t think anyone would be as good as you,”

“You’re pussy whipped,”

Joel took a beat before he looked up at you. A playfully confused look on his face, “now how do you know that? Ain’t nobody been usin’ pussy whipped since outbreak,”

“I heard Tommy say it,”

“Yeah?” Joel looked back down and wrapped one strong arm around your waist, lifting you off the table just enough that he could work your pants down over your ass. “Do you think I am?”

You smiled and shook your head, watching as he took a half-step back to allow for some room for him to unbutton his own pants. “I think you would do anything for me but I don’t think it’s ‘cause you’re pussy whipped.”

“No?” He grinned and rested one of his hands on the table beside you while he leaned in with the other and dragged his middle finger through your slit and up to your clit. He nodded when you whimpered and pulled your bottom lip between your teeth. “Why do you think it is?”

Eyebrows furrowed together and with your head tilting backward, face up to the ceiling, a breathless smile passed over your face. Your lungs just barely managed to get enough air to speak. “‘Cause you like me,”

“Actually I don’t like you,” Joel studied your face (or what of it he could see with it tilted back) as he traced two fingertips down the length of your slit and eased them inside you. “I love you,”

“Joel,” you whimpered, bowing your head forward again with your eyes cinched shut, “you’re not supposed to say that for the first time when your fingers are inside me,”

He chuckled and thrust his fingers slowly, “sorry.” When his digits plunged back in to the last knuckle, he curled them upward inside you, against your front wall. Pride emanated from him when the immediate result was your thighs trembling and clenching together. “Tried to tell you when we rode in,”

You hummed and leaned in closer to him, enough to be able to rest your head on his shoulder, lips angled to his neck as to be able to deliver loving kisses to his skin. Your arms took the opportunity to wrap around his torso, hands splaying over the broad expanse of his back.

And he, while never losing sight of the fact that he was currently trying to pleasure you, kissed your temple and let his mouth linger there. “I love you, babygirl,” he whispered near enough to your ear that his words were clear as day – as if they hadn’t been the first time he said it. Feeling you nod against him, his lips stretched into a wider smile. It had been years since he’d felt this sort of thing for someone. The willingness to be soft with someone, but you pulled it out of him. “More ‘an life,” he whispered again, feeling your hands migrate to his pants. No doubt going to match the speed of his fingers which hadn’t ceased soft thrusts inside you. “You got me. I’m yours,”

Managing to just barely gain the wherewithal to shove your hand down into his underwear, you curled your fingers around his semi-hard shaft and began to stroke him with decisive, firm tugs that kept pace with his fingers in you. Eyes widened to take in as much visual information as possible. The way his jaw hung slack. Or the way tendons in his forearm pulled taut every time his fingers changed their angle inside you. But mostly, the way his eyes were fixed on you. Gaze gentle and longing. Almost like you could tell he’d spend the rest of his life loving you.

“Gonna fuck me or what, Miller?”

His lips curled into a smile and he crowded your space a little more, making it almost impossible for you to continue stroking him. “Was hopin’ you’d say it back. Only thing worse than sayin’ it when my fingers are inside ya’ is sayin’ it when my cock’s inside ya’.”

Heat rose up in your neck and cheeks. “Make me come and we’ll see what we can do,”

Joel leaned in the couple inches more needed to press his lips to yours. At one point in life you would’ve balked at such an activity happening when you were supposed to be focused on a patrol – keeping an eye on anything that could cause a threat to Jackson. Maybe on another day you still would. You’d smirk and push on Joel’s chest and say a cheeky, little comment that wouldn’t bruise his ego too heavily so he’d give up the fight and pick back up on it when you returned to your quiet home. But this – getting in a quickie while out – was beginning to be part of the routine. You thought it funny; less than a year ago, you’d cringed at the thought of going on patrol, knowing a couple men were going to impose themselves on you. Now, you almost hoped it would happen with this particular man. That he’d push you up against anything sturdy enough to withstand your weight, spread your legs apart, and press himself inside you. You knew he’d always find you wet, arousal dripping from you and coating your inner thighs. Now you knew that when he’d do these things, he’d also be telling you he loved you.

Joel eased his fingers out of you and nodded, sympathetic to the whine you muttered at the new emptiness. He pushed his pants down past his hips and untucked himself from his underwear; his length laying heavy and thick in his hand. His fingers, shiny with your slick, ran over his shaft in languid strokes. Very little would have to be done to keep himself hard as his eyes flickered between your face and the place he longed to be between your legs. “You want your pants completely off?”

You flashed a quick grin and shook your head, knowing what that meant. He wasn’t about to Houdini himself over or under your pants to get in between your legs. Using him as support, you hopped off the table and turned around, facing away from him. You smiled again when you felt his lips press to the back of your head and linger there. His hands made quick work of pushing your pants down a little bit further, to your knees. Then he stepped forward, one hand gripping into the supple flesh of your ass, and the other guiding his member to your awaiting entrance. Reaching back, you set your hand on his hip. A little intimacy given your history with this position – not only with Joel, but with the men of yesteryear. He let out a hum that went up in pitch at the end; wordlessly asking if you were ready. To which you nodded and used your free hand to brace yourself against the table to keep from your hip jamming into the edge.

But Joel entered you slowly. No quick or harsh movements. Just a steady drag of himself into you as if he was relishing in feeling every inch sink inside your tight heat. And when he bottomed out, there was a simultaneous adjusting of hands between the two of you. He re-positioned his around your body. One forearm crossing over your stomach to keep your lower half secure, and the other arm over your chest, his hand splayed out over your breast. In perfect position to keep you near enough that he could whisper all the filthy things he surely would in your ear. Your hands came up to his forearm over your chest, holding firm for the deep thrusts you knew would surely overtake you.

“I fuckin’ love this pussy,” he growled in your ear as he pulled his hips backward. The last word was emphasized by the powerful forward motion of his hips again. The force of it and the way the head of his cock nudged up against your cervix was enough to send you stumbling one step forward. And had his arms not been holding you, would’ve resulted in you toppling over the table. “Tell me whose it is,”

Your fingernails dug into his forearm, “it’s yours. Only yours,”

Based on the way you felt his lips stretch along the skin just below your ear, you knew he was smiling. All too happy to have you give in to him in the best of ways. He let out a long breath with his next thrust. The throbbing in his shaft only matched by the throbbing of your core around him. If he were a lesser man, he could lose it right then and there. Fill you with his spend and fuck it up into you. Getting a chance to see if what you’d told him was true. Not like he could knock you up. He was in no position to be bringing about life. Hell, the world was in no position to be bringing about life. But shit if he didn’t want to try.

You moaned and tilted your head to the side, away from his, knowing he’d give you what you were asking for. Fingers, mostly limp, curled around your neck. And with a kiss to your temple, he added pressure, keen to the way your expression shifted into a breathless smile. As he mumbled a string of dirty thoughts and questions into your ear, you nodded to him in response. Yes to anything he had to say or offer. Always yes. Eyebrows knitting together each time he slammed back into you to the hilt.

Soon the pressure on your lower back came to be a bit too much. Years on horseback will do that to you. You eased yourself out of the octopus hold he had on you and laid down over the table, chest and cheek flush to it. Joel gave your ass an appreciative squeeze. Sweat beaded at his hairline and he wiped it away with the heel of his hand before he brought that hand down to the back of your head. He took a fistful of your hair and pulled on it until your head followed suit. Neck stretched out, hands splayed out in front of you, it was impossible to ignore the delicious push and pull of his cock. He pistoned forward, very nearly splitting you in half before dragging backwards so you felt every last inch of him moving in and out of your hole.

“You’re a dirty old man,” you grinned, letting out a particularly hearty moan when he moved his hand from your ass cheek and centered over your puckered hole.

Another proud smile washed over his face, “yeah but you’re the dirty little girl moanin’ like a dog in heat for him.”

Even you couldn’t keep yourself from smiling at that. Were you not the person who begged for him almost every night? Albeit in the comfort of your own home. And now, taking him deep inside you, hitting that place that made your legs tremble. He trailed his hand down to your spasming thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze. Relax anymore and you were liable to topple right over. The most amazing part of it all was that he didn’t have to do anything in particular to make it good. You’d always imagined there was some mind-blowing thing that would have to be done in order for you to like this. If there was, he did it so routinely – so easily – that it was imperceptible.

In the beginning, you never knew when your climax was coming. It wasn’t something you could pinpoint the feeling to and give notice ahead of time. As you grew more attuned to it, learning yourself and what it felt like, you found there was no reason to give notice. Joel had learned at the same time you had. The way it felt when you were close. The way your back arched. The way your core pulsed around him as if trying to get him to slow or stop. The way your eyebrows knitted together to create an almost-frown on the rest of your face. The way your breathing shallowed out…

There were any number of signs he could look to and know. It’s how he knew you were close now. Your chest heaved searching for fresh air despite quick, shallow breaths that almost seemed like you were hyperventilating. He pulled you back up to him then until your back was flush to his chest and his arms wrapped around you to keep you still. He drove himself up into you in perfect rhythm, and though that felt amazing, it was never the thing that got you over the edge. It was the way his voice rang in your ears.

“Lemme see how pretty you look comin’ all over my cock,” he nibbled your earlobe with the next deep thrust. Then after a high-pitched squeak from you when he dropped one hand to your clit, “attagirl. That’s my fuckin’ girl. C’mon. You don’t have to hold out, give it to me,” he rambled lowly. “I’m gonna fill your cunt all the way up, just wanna feel you first,”

That’s ultimately what does it. Gets you to give in the pleasure until you’re a whimpering, trembling mess in Joel’s arms. Feeling wetness from your release trickle down your inner thighs and in the hair on his lower belly; each snap of his hips smacked that wetness back against your ass. And you’re weren't even done shaking when Joel stilled, tense. The muscles in his arms flexed, holding you as close to him as possible. Then the feeling of his spend painting your walls. Quick, jabbing thrusts pushed his release deeper as if he was trying to ensure every last drop stayed inside you.

Joel let out a throaty groan when his orgasm culminated. There was just a hint of a beat where he allowed himself to catch his breath before he leaned in and kissed your neck tenderly. You stirred in his arms, hips shifting back against him and he looked down at where you were connected. With care, he eased his hips backward until his softening length slipped out of you. The lack of stretch within was replaced by his fingertips pressing against your entrance – not yet pushing past the muscle to be inside, but just enough pressure at the rim that you knew what he was doing. Trying to keep his come from dripping out of you.

With a breathless grin, you tilted your head back until it bumped along his collarbone, “I love you too.”

A smile made a home on his face and he leaned in for another kiss. This one to your lips with gentleness you never thought you’d find in a man. Let alone this man.

⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾

It was evening by the time you and Joel got settled back at his house, and even later by the time you let your body hit the bed. An old desk fan with metal blades whooshed away in the corner, spitting out as much cool air as it could though it wasn’t enough to keep up with the heat the house had retained during the afternoon. Though there was more than enough electricity provided by the plant, everyone tried to stay away from air conditioners in the privacy of their own homes to allow for the community spaces to have that luxury. So now you lay, tits up and out to the world, on the bed like a starfish, waiting for the fan to cycle back around and hit you with a burst of cool air.

Joel came in and shut the bedroom door behind him, quickly ditching the towel he’d slung around his hips in the event Ellie happened about the house. He moseyed over to the dresser in his fully nude form, very keen to the way your eyes tracked him – or more specifically – the way your eyes tracked his manhood swinging between his legs with each step.

He pulled a clean pair of boxer briefs out of the top drawer and then turned toward you full frontal. “You’re droolin’,”

It took a second longer of staring at his member before you registered his words and looked up into his eyes. “Then get over here and give me something to drool on,”

A quick laugh ripped through him and he walked over to the bed, underwear still in hand, and crawled up just far enough that his torso was above your legs with his hands pressed to the mattress on either side of your thighs. “You already did that today,”

“A girl can only do it once a day?”

“You’re not gettin’ a second one in until I get to pay you back for this morning,”

“Oh yeah. I’ve been really good to you today,”

Joel nodded in agreement and laid down on his belly. His arms hooked beneath your thighs and hauled you in closer to his face. With your legs slung comfortably over his shoulders and your feet returned to the mattress, he nodded a second time and turned toward your left thigh. Then, shaking his head back and forth slowly, he rubbed his coarse whiskers over your inner thigh. “You’re good to me everyday,”

You giggled and shifted your hips down closer to him even more. “You’re right. You owe me so much,” you joked, but as you looked down to watch him, you noted how he nodded yet again and this time pressed his lips to soothe the skin his scruff had rubbed sensitive. With a soft hum, you lowered one hand to your waist and laced your fingers with his.

He squeezed your fingers and pressed your joined hands down against your lower belly. His lips made their way a little further north, nearing the apex of your thighs. “We’ll start with a couple orgasms tonight, then see how else I can repay the rest of the debt,”

You nodded eagerly, eyes glued to his mouth until it disappeared from your line of vision. The sight ended and was simultaneously replaced by the feeling of his tongue paying careful attention to your swollen lips. He lapped his tongue over them, opening and closing his lips around you, seemingly delighted with the entire thing. Your legs shifted wider over his shoulders, inviting him even closer if that was possible. And with the hand not intertwined with yours, he raised it to your hip to hold you still when his mouth centered just where you’d wanted it to be.

A coo floated out past your lips, your other hand reaching down and tangling in his salt and pepper curls. His mouth doing absolute wonders as his tongue encouraged your anatomy to open for him. Licking along your velvety slit until his tongue inadvertently notched at your entrance. Your hips jerked further onto his mouth and your moans turned into a whimper when he flattened his tongue and trailed it up to your clit.

You cried out his name and he responded by closing his lips around the sensitive bud, and took it into his mouth gently. Your legs flinched together then. Involuntary and quick. And though it impeded Joel’s ability to continue, he took it in stride and pressed his palms to each of your thighs, easing them apart until he had space to continue – which he did with immediate fervor. But instead of replacing his hand with yours on your lower belly, he turned his hand upright beneath his chin and carefully pushed his middle and ring fingers into your throbbing core.

“Joel,” you moaned, extending his name and curling your fingers a little bit tighter in his hair.

He hummed back to you; a vibration moving through your clit and up your spine. And then with his fingers spearing into you at a slow pace, you cried out again for him and tugged on his hair. But he was not inclined to stop. Not when your body was giving him exactly what he wanted. Arousal came from your outstretched hole and pooled down into his palm. Your walls clenched in on his digits, trying and failing, to hold them still. But what absolute pleasure there was in the failure. You bucked your hips upward, a slave to the feeling he was giving you, and his fingers slipped out. With haste, he lowered his tongue to your gaping entrance, and rimmed the muscle. But instead of replacing his fingers where they had been, he set them at your other, puckered hole. The arousal that still coated them now rubbed over the taut skin.

Your eyes flicked open and looked down at him to already find him staring at you. Waiting. With his thumb pressed against your hole but not in. His mouth never stopped its ministrations, now back on your clit. And unsure of the exact reason why, but you nodded at Joel. Clear and definite. A growl rumbled through his chest and he sunk his thumb into your ass. Though it wasn’t anything exceptionally large, it had you chewing at your bottom lip. And as soon as the forward pressure began, it stopped. Now just a stretching fullness as Joel got his thumb into you to the first knuckle.

“Joel,” you whimpered, eyebrows furrowing, “please.”

For the first time, he pulled his mouth away from you and looked down at his thumb. An open mouthed, breathless smile crossed over his face and he looked back up at you with pure lust in his eyes. “You wanna come with my finger in your ass?”

“Yes– yes please. M’close,”

So he put his mouth back on your clit and got to work. He knew it wasn’t going to take much more. Your legs were already shaking. Your calf muscles spasmed tight and released. He could count to ten and call out your orgasm with an insane amount of accuracy. Joel bent his thumb inside you, adding downward pressure to stretch out your ass a little more. Make it feel a little fuller, though he doubted he needed to do much to make it feel like that. In fact, he didn’t even make it to the ten count in his head before a scream tore through your throat and your thighs squeezed around his head. He lapped away at you until your body settled, little aftershocks coursing through you though he kept drinking down the arousal that came out.

Only when you physically pushed his head back, did he pull away. Though he didn’t get very far. Stayed between your legs and looked back down at his thumb as he eased it out of you. You shifted uncomfortably beneath him, but as soon as his finger was free, he crawled up over your body and rested his lower half on yours. The weight of him, easing you back to calmness.

“You’re all messy,” you scrunched your nose and smiled, noting the way his beard shone with your slick in it.

He grinned back at you and lifted one hand up to his face, wiping it over his mouth. Then with both hands firmly planted on the bed on either side of you, he leaned in for a kiss. Relishing in the way he could force his tongue into your mouth, getting you to taste the remnants of your release. “You made the mess. I was cleaning up,”

Your jaw dropped but he just kissed you again, and lifted his waist high enough that he could reach in between your bodies and grab his length. It was a quick moment thereafter that you felt his erection pressing against you – although not to the place you expected to feel it.

You shot him a glance, not worried or scared… just noticing. “Wrong hole,”

“Sure?” He smiled, not pressing his luck any. As soon as you nodded, he shifted up to the correct entrance.

“Maybe another night it can be the right hole,” you whispered, almost feeling like you needed to band-aid his ego.

Joel pursed his lips together and eased his hips forward. He watched the way your jaw dropped open when his shaft stretched you open and when he bottomed out, he pulled his hand away and cupped both of his over your head. “It doesn’t need to be. Only if you want it. Don’t do it for me,” he pulled his hips back and then drove them forward again, “I got this. And I love this,”

“Yeah?” you chirped, lifting your hips off the bed to meet his, “she feels good?” Off his brazen nod, you lifted your head off the pillow and nipped at his scruffy jaw. Then a touch lower to his neck. “You like the way she creams for you?”

“Fuck,” he muttered and bowed his head. His cheek now rested beside yours. Hips stuttering forward. “You can’t keep talking, ‘cause I’m already close,”

“The old man can’t keep it together?” You mocked playfully, reaching up to tangle your fingers in the ends of hair at the nape of his neck. Your body was rocking up and down along the mattress, at the mercy of his powerful thrusts on top of you.

Joel lifted his head enough to look down at you and brought a hand to your neck, applying pressure to the sides. “The old man just got done eating the best tastin’ pussy he’s ever had, and then watched his girl come with his thumb in her ass. The old man is doin’ pretty damn good, all considering.”

The laugh you wanted to give was stifled because of his hand on your throat, but he muffled the rest of it with his lips. Wet, open-mouthed kisses that had his tongue wrestling yours. You moved your hands to his chest, rubbing along his pecs. But even that was short lived. Joel wrangled your hands in his and pinned them down on either side of your head. He laced your fingers with his and lowered his full weight to you. At this angle, only able to thrust into you with short jabs; ones that kept you filled to the brim and feeling him at every spot within you.

You stared up into his eyes, your jaw hung slack and your lips swollen and throbbing. Every part of both of your bodies seemed to be throbbing. Pulse points making the pleasure known to every cell.

He shook his head absently. Now his own eyebrows furrowed, trying to stave off his orgasm. “So fuckin’ beautiful like this,”

You smiled and let your eyes drift shut. But Joel’s hand cupping over your cheek stirred you enough to get you to open your eyes again. “Like what? Sexed out?” The rest of that breath was expelled from your lungs with a thrust from Joel that nearly had you thinking he’d gone beyond pressing against your cervix and being fully in it. A pain that quickly subsided into a weighty, stretching pleasure. “Keep going, don’t stop. Please… please,”

Joel lifted himself off of you just enough to keep pace. Long, languid thrusts rolled into you like waves breaking on the beach. You had made fun of him but the truth was you weren’t far off either. Way too close to another orgasm to even be nearly respectable. You came first, and even though Joel had a passing thought about having a smart ass remark about it, he didn’t say anything. You whimpered and curled forward into his chest, choking his cock inside you. Before you’d finished completely, he groaned with you, abs flexing as quick thrusts shot rope after rope of his come inside you.

He collapsed on top of you, his lips at your neck while yours were at his shoulder. You breathed together for a few moments. Just long enough to catch enough air in your lungs, before Joel pulled out of you and rolled over onto his back. In the same instant, you turned onto your side, curling into him with one leg slung over his waist. The air, warm and muggy between you. A sheen of sweat had you both glowing in the moonlight.

His arm beneath you, curled upward and his fingertips brushed over the skin on your shoulder. Both absently stared at the ceiling fan above until you let out a content sigh and rocked up onto your forearm, gaining the advantage in being above him. He’d said you looked beautiful but you couldn’t help but notice he looked beautiful, too. And with a long, soft kiss that felt like I love you, you peeled yourself out of bed, the sheet sticking to your skin as you went, and quickly pulled one of Joel’s t-shirts out of the dresser. Slipping it over your torso, you pulled the hem down over your ass and tugged the bedroom door open. Finding the hallway clear of roaming teenagers, you tiptoed directly across the hall into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. You stole a glance of yourself in the mirror, feeling foolish with the level of “modesty” you tried to retain in Joel’s t-shirt. Had anyone seen you in the hallway, it would’ve been wholly obvious what you’d just been up to. Your skin had a tacky, sweaty glow. Your hair was an absolute wreck. There was even a slight mark on your neck where his hand had been.

Yet you still grinned to yourself when you sat down on the toilet. Proud (if that was the right emotion) to look this way for Joel. You tore off some toilet paper and reached between your legs to wipe. Already sensitive and sore, you did so with even more attention and care than you would’ve on a normal day. But when you finished and looked down in the bowl, your heart jumped to a stop.

“Joel!” You stared down at the water, now a color you hadn’t seen in some time. “Joel, can you come here?!”

It took a few seconds, likely just long enough for him to find where his underwear had gone, before he rapped a knuckle against the bathroom door. You called him inside, long past the days of being shy to pee around him. Though you insisted everything else was still off limits.

“Did you give the Diva Cup back to Maria like I asked?”

Joel racked his brain for the memory of this conversation. Right. Your first day here – slid the Diva Cup over to him and told him you wouldn’t be needing it. When his memory caught up with the present moment, he shook his head. “I held onto it in case Ellie needed it. Why?”

A smile flashed over your face. “I got my period,”

“Yeah?” He stared at you. A nervous nod swept over you. “That’s great,”

“Is it?”

“Yeah,” he repeated and took a couple steps forward to close the gap between you. After he kissed the top of your head, he pulled open the top drawer of the vanity, going drawer by drawer until he found the box. He looked down at it momentarily before handing it over to you, “means your body knows you're safe again. Get back to its nature,”

“We’ll have to be more cautious with the way we’ve been…” you glanced at the bulge in his underwear before catching his gaze again, “you know…”

He nodded. You both seemed to be doing a lot of that here. “Yeah,” he set his hands on his hips, absently staring at the box in your hands.

“See? Told you it was better I didn’t have it. No pressure,”

His eyes flashed back up to yours. “I’m happy you got it. Your body’s doin’ its thing. You’re healthy. You’re alive. That’s all I want,” he brushed his hand through your hair. “We’ll figure out how to work with it.” Then a pause that seemed to last a little too long for comfort. Joel took a deep breath, “havin’ a little you runnin’ around would probably give me a heart attack. Might be kinda fun too, though,”

You figured there was an emotional glint in your eye. This rock of a man opening up to you like this. “I wish we weren’t having this conversation while I’m on the toilet,”

A laugh rocked through his chest. Joel motioned down to the box again, “y’need help with that?”

“I think I can manage,”

He smiled again and bent over. He cupped his hand over your cheek and planted the most tender kiss you’d ever had on your lips. Joel pressed his forehead to yours with a wink. “Alright. Come back to bed when you’re done. I’ll be waitin’ for ya’,”

“‘Kay,” you nodded. Then as he backed up and headed for the door, you called out to him. “I love you, Joel.”

He looked back over his shoulder as he pulled the door open, “I love you, too.”

#joel miller x reader #jackson!joel #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller angst #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fluff #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #ppcu fanfiction #edelweiss fic

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caitlinclarkluver22 · 5 months ago

Text

~ Please Please Please ~ P.B a fanfic ( sfw)

inspired by the song by sabrina carpenter

pov: smart!fem! reader x player! paige bueckers

an: so this is my first paige bueckers fanfic, the intros kinda long, but i think it came out pretty good, but there is gonna multiple parts to this, so just let me know if you’d like another one.

remember blue is flashback and purple is lyrics!!

warnings: mention of alcohol, cheating, lying, and mention of sex

“ i know i have good judgment, i know i have good taste. it’s funny and it’s ironic that only i feel that way.”

you’re a senior in college at uconn, your mostly known for being the smartest person in your classes, never failing one grade, getting higher than a 90 at all times, 85 on your bad days.

you were in calculus, to you it was light work. you didn’t really need to study often, having amazing memory and overall good attention span in class.

since you already completed 2 years of college in highschool, having your associates degree, you were already looking forward to getting your bachelor’s degree this year.

————————————————————————

you were collecting your stuff of the desk, putting it in you book bag, ready to go take a break from the series of classes you had just taken.

as you were walking out of the room, you heard someone call your name.

it was your teacher, professor zamora.

“ hey, your the one with all the good test scores right?” , he asked knowing but just wanted to make sure, to ask for a favor.

“ yes…. i am”, you shyly responded, a little nervous at the sudden attention.

“ okay good, so since you have the best grades in the class right now, i was wondering if you were free for another class period.”

free? another class period? what is he trying to imply? i know i might look naive and small, but I’m not stupid to know what men want. i am lesbian after all. although i had my suspicions, i trusted my professor.

“ yes i actually am. why professor?”

“ great! i was just wondering because my next class period is algebra, and….lets just say ive had them for a few years now…anyways, they need help. just pick the one you want and you can tutor them.” , he said praying that she would agree.

although she did have a break for the next two hours, she could spend one of them helping someone, it’s the right thing to do.

“ yes of course! i’m willing to tutor anyone that needs my help.”, you say enthusiastically, ready to help people be the best they could be.

“ great! just come back in around 30 minutes, and by then they should be here.”, your professor said, thankful for your help.

“ okay i got you.” , you said walking out of class, going to grab a bite to eat.

————————————————————————

after the short thirty minutes pass by, you start walking back to the class, praying that this goes well.

as you make your entrance through the door, you see a familiar face.

shes a blonde, tall, blue eyed girl walking to her desk, a purple nike elite backpack on her back (that looks fairly empty ), and a slow sluggish walk .

you could tell who it was from a mile away, it was paige bueckers.

THE paige bueckers.

you noticed her since in your free time u went to go watch the basketball games, cheering for your favorite player on the team, paige obviously. although you went to almost every game, you went unnoticed by her, standing in the back of the crowd just admiring how she played.

you weren’t a mega fan.

you totally didn’t scroll on tiktok, looking and saving the edits you’d find. damn she’s so attractive…

‘ah ah ah, no liking her. she’s in algebra. she’s obviously not smart, not to be mean of course. just observing.’ , you think to yourself as you look around the room, waiting for everyone to take their seats.

it wasn’t only about academics. paige was also known for hopping around from girl to girl, you know this since a couple of your friends had their fair share of dating her.

you were awoken late at night by a loud knock at your door. who could be awake this late?

as you opened the door, you came to a sad sight.

there your friend, lilly, was crying at your doorstep.

she was sobbing, her eyes swollen , puffy, and red due to the amount of uncontrollable tears.

you knew what…or should i say who this was about.

over the course of 2 months, your friend was on and off with her situationship, paige. lilly didnt know wether her and paige were a thing or not, she never knew what paige’s next move would be, little did she know that her next move would be completely ghosting her and pretending like she didn’t exist.

“ i just- i just don’t know what i did wrong. i mean i bought her things, i spent time with her, i supported her at all her games. every single one. how could i be so stupid? i’m literally one of the smartest people in this whole college and im not smart enough to realize that a girl is totally playing me.” , she sobbed grasping onto you like her life depended on it.

“ it’s okay lilly it’s okay, you deserve better.”

although lilly was your friend, karmas a bitch, she should’ve known better, if she had a wish, she would’ve never fucked around with paige ( LMAOOO ).

lilly, yes got hurt, but she was a bad person. in her past she was known for cheating, lying, and stealing. well stealing other people’s hearts of course. she would talk to them, make them fall in love, then drop them after they bought her a gift of some sort.

another one of your well known friends, keisha, always hooked up with paige. whenever paige was bored, she’d text keisha a good “ u up?” late night text , and keisha would be at her dorm room in no time, ready to have good sex.

of course, they weren’t your friends anymore, you realized soon after that lilly was a bad influence since she lied and cheated, while keisha was just to influenced in alcohol and hook up culture.

in essence, this girl was bad news, and she only liked the bad girls, so you’d obviously have to stay far far away from her….

————————————————————————

“ so how do you find x if you don’t have y?”

fuck my life.

“ paige, it’s not that hard. really. i learned this shit in seventh fucking grade, and you can’t get it. look let me show you….again.”, you said irritably, getting impatient by the second. you felt like you’ve taught her over a thousand times.

you guys were in her dorm, on her purple comforter, you were trying to teach her the literal easiest shit ever, and she couldn’t comprehend it. ugh she’s like a toddler.

“ so to find out x i have to add y and…what again?”

kms.

“ UGHHH paigeeeee”, you said, hands in your hair , frustrated with the stupidity this girl had. how could she be so smart on the court, yet so dumb when it came to math?

“ please, i need help, if i don’t pass this then i can’t play basketball. and we both really know how much i love basketball. it’s my everything. please?”, she said, her player facade fading away, showing her true and vulnerable self.

ugh those eyes….

“ …one more time paige. just try your best to get it. concentrate.”

paige nodded and smiled at her, looking down at the paper to attempt to grasp the information that she had trouble with.

————————————————————————

“ I ACED IT”, paige screamed, jumping up and down.

“ REALLY?”, you said eyes wide.

“ YES YES YES, omg i’m so happy right now!”, paige said , her eyes showing the pure raw excitement paige had.

paige then unexpectedly embraced you in a hug, it catching you off guard, but nonetheless, you hugged back.

if you knew the hug was wrong…..why did it feel so right?

you guys stood there for a solid minute, embracing eachother. you inhaled, smelling the sweet scent she radiated.

“ okay well i gotta go”, you said, sad knowing that this would be the last time that u had an excuse to spend time with her.

“ yea- um same.”, she said, giving u a slightly forced smile.

as you were walking away , sadness filling ur heart, u heard someone shout your name.

it was paige.

“ hey um, what about i take you to dinner?..you know just to thank you for all the work you’ve done to help me of course.”, she said with a hopeful look, her bright blue eyes illuminating like the pacific ocean.

how could i say no to those eyes?

“ um..you know what…yea of course. tommorow at 9 sounds good?”, you said , happier than you’d like to admit.

“ i promised’em that your different, and everyone makes mistakes. but just don’t.”

“ i’m telling you, you shouldn’t surround yourself around her, she’s a bad influence! she literally broke your ex friends hearts! both of them! paige isn’t a good girl to fall in love with.”, dominique one of your most recent friends said, stressed out about your love life right now.

“ i mean, she asked me out to dinner…”

“….she what? don’t tell me you said yes…”

“ i said yes.”

————————————————————————-

“ don’t bring me to tears when i just did my makeup so nice.”

you finished up your final touches in your makeup, when u got a text message.

pb and j

hey pretty girl

i’m here

i’m going.

as you came out your dorm, paige was there at your door checking her breath, startled by your sudden appearance, she smiled awkwardly, bringing up lego roses to your face.

how did she know that i didn’t like real flowers? and that i love legos?

your heart warmed at the sight, smiling at her, full teeth on display.

“ thank you paige, you shouldn’t have, really.”, you said, almost feeling bad that she spent money on you that she shouldn’t have.

“ no no no it’s my pleasure honestly.” , she said with a grin, sighing , relieved that you liked the gift.

“ let’s get going?”, you said.

“ whoever is last is the rotten egg!”, she yelled loudly, before running down the hall making her way down the stairs.

————————————————————————

“i heard your an actor, so act like a stand-up guy. whatever devils inside you, don’t let him out tonight.”

they’re at the restaurant, it’s way fancier than you expected. the waiter sat you guys down, and now both of you are looking at the menu.

when the waiter comes back, both of you agreed on chicken alfredo, and both of you got dr. pepper.

you guys start making conversation, talking about the things you didn’t know about eachother , and your goals in life.

————————————————————————

as you guys finished with your delicious meal, you decided that it was time to leave and go home. it was getting late after all.

as both of you walked out, the moon shining bright on your faces, the date unfortunately coming to an end, you guys talked a bit more, laughing at eachother jokes.

“ well that was fun.”, paige said, laughing, her teeth as bright as the stars.

“ yea it really was…”, you say with a smile on your face that couldn’t be removed no matter how hard you tried. a smile so permanent that it ached.

you guys gazed into eachothers eyes, her eyes taking a trip down to your lips, slowly bringing them back to your eyes once again.

“ paige i-“

you got cut off by paige, as she brought her lips to yours, sealing the night in a fond memory of the kiss you shared, the kiss that was between the two of you.

after a while, you opened your eyes and looked at her. she had her goofy smile on, looking at you with….i think love…? no couldn’t be. just lust.

“ um we should do this again. “

say no say no.

“ yes of course”, you said with a smile.

“ okay well…see you later. i’ll text you! “, paige said as she back peddled to her car, winking at you, before running to the vehicle .

god she’s such a goof.

as you got in your car, you only had one thought while having your head on the wheel, thinking about all the occurrences that had happened over the past few months. even though you knew it might end up bad, you couldn’t help but think…

please please please, don’t prove em right.

————————————————————————

WOOHOOO I FINISHED IT DONT PLAYYY!!! i was literally working on this for hours and my friend dominique was helping me with it too( literally love her )!! anyways hope you enjoy and make sure to lmk if yall want a second part or not!!! 💕💕 sorry if it’s bad ik i misspelled a couple i think and definitely misworded but not so bad to the point where you won’t get it. LOVE YAAA!!!💕

#Spotify #lesbian #paige bueckers #paige buckets #wnba x reader #wnba imagine #wnba basketball #wnba players #wnba

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octuscle · 1 year ago

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My professor is such a pain in the ass! I tried turning him into an average dumb college frat guy, but it’s not working!

Whew! Indeed, your professor is a tough nut to crack. He's as stiff as if he'd swallowed a stick. On time like a Swiss watch. And the strictest teacher imaginable. I'll see what I can do. Time is pressing, it's Friday and the exam period starts on Monday.

07:30. Your professor's shiny Volvo rolls into the faculty parking lot. He's always on time to the second. His suit may be cheap, but it's immaculate. And he walks into the staff room with his hair perfectly parted. No one notices the small tattoo on his forearm.

When he arrives at your lecture, it's like a sensation: he's not wearing polished Oxfords, he's wearing sneakers. Pretty cool, pretty expensive sneakers. And WHITE socks! He's never been seen wearing anything like that before. And you swear his stomach is flatter. Normally his jacket always conceals a tummy bulge. But now his silhouette is perfectly slim. Unfortunately, it doesn't change anything about his lecture. He's way too fast, firing his questions like a sniper in the direction of the students who weren't paying attention. He's a pain in the ass, and that hasn't changed yet.

During the lunch break, the professor is seen wearing jeans for the first time. Pretty crisp fitting jeans. He really has a tight ass. And damn: Does he actually have a beard shadow? Normally he's always perfectly shaved. You're sitting in the canteen with your bruhs when he approaches you and asks "All gud, bruhs? can one of you give me uh fag? I must have forgotten mine at home…" You are far too surprised not to give him a cigarette. "You're such uh lifesaver, dude," says your professor and asks what you're up to this weekend. You tell him about your plans to go to the sports bar, work out in the gym and maybe take a trip to the beach on Sunday. "Sick thing" replies the professor. "See you around, bruhs!" He leaves you with your mouths hanging open.

The professor leaves the parking lot in his open-top Mustang with loud hip-hop music and screeching tires. You grin broadly. Your plan seems to be working. You are sure of it when you meet the next day at the gym. Your professor has a cool haircut, a stylish beard and looks like he's a regular at the tattoo parlor. You greet each other with a fist bump. And when he takes off his sweaty T-shirt after two hours, you say goodbye with a chest bump. Damn, this guy has a killer body.

On the beach, your prof disappears from time to time with random people and goes to the trunk of his Mustang. Shit, he's selling drugs. Hashish or apparently steroids and other stuff. And at sunset you see him lying on his towel smoking pot while one of the musclemen from the gym massages his nipples. Fuck, the boner in his surfer shorts is impressive. You're very pleased with yourself. You don't need to be afraid of tomorrow. It's a good thing you didn't waste the weekend studying.

Hot picture, you think to yourself on Monday morning when you see your professor's latest post on Instagram. And then you read the caption: "Sicc training 2 start the new wk. Now let's go kicc sum student ass. I luv it when i c the airheads sweating over my exam questions"

Pic found @marechais

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #male transformation #muscle transformation #inked man #age reduction #jock tf #nerd to jock

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wavesoutbeingtossed · 7 months ago

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To continue riffing on the marriage/tradition stuff because that’s one of the themes I’m obsessed with in her discography, it’s fascinating because it would be easy to reduce it to, “she’s adhering to patriarchal societal norms in chasing the traditional nuclear family and that’s why she throws herself into these relationships,” but it’s just so reductive to well, how human beings exist in the world. Just because it’s a societal pressure doesn’t mean some people don’t genuinely want to get married or have families.

Yes, she’s been singing about it right back to her first album when she as 16. Yes, her view on it has evolved, from marrying the sweet neighbor boy to the princess fairytale early on (debut/fearless), to the disillusionment that increasingly pushed it out of the narrative (speak now/red/1989), to slowly letting herself believe in forever again (rep), to seemingly actually committed (lover), to questioning what that means (folklore/evermore) to trying to reconcile what it means for her current life (midnights). Every relationship she experienced throughout those periods informed those views and how *she* pursued it.

I think what makes it so interesting on TTPD is that it is EVERYWHERE, as I mentioned in my previous post about it. And it’s unsettling because it’s not just in the setting we expect it to be — e.g. a long term partner she’d previously indicated she was ready to marry — but also in songs about a man who swooped in to save her when she was low only to break her apart, in thinly-veiled fantasies about strange bedfellow neighbours, another thinly-veiled story about marrying the person you want consequences be damned, in taunting your on again/off again partner in a bar (e.g. i want to smash your bike or be your wife).

And it’d be easy to chalk it up to, well she’s in her 30s and the clock is ticking, she’s just obsessive! And there’s a nugget there about women and their bodies and both the lauding and weaponization thereof and everything that personally I’m dying to talk about at some point. But when it comes down to it, I’m willing to bet that the reason why it’s everywhere is because THAT WAS HER LIFE. That was the plan she’d taken for granted for so long — and I don’t just mean in a general sense as a girl in the world — but in the very real, very tangible way she was living her life and in the circumstances that led to what would be written about in TTPD. By working out all these scenarios through her songs (and tbh in whatever she was doing IRL that inspired them), she was grappling with and grieving the loss of the life she thought was ahead of her. We’ve talked about how pervasive grief has been on her recent albums, in all kinds of forms, and I think this is kind of the culmination of all of those worries.

She’s not the girl with the paper ring and all’s well did not end well to end up with him. She’s not the girl who has his midnights after cleaning up bottles on New Year’s Day. She couldn’t give him her wild or a child because it wasn’t enough. She may have even been the self-fulfilling prophecy of the girl who is fucked in the head, but feels more like the one left out on the landing.

So in TTPD, she is all of these things. She’s the neglected wife whose husband cheats on her so she runs off with an old flame. She’s the one who gets the jewel on her ring finger and talks about babies because he says it’s love. She’s the woman whose partner once made a promise but never followed through. She’s the hell-raiser who follows love in a different kind of getaway car while the town calls her mad, consequences be damned, but joke’s on them because she gets the wedding in the end anyway. She’s the wife who feeds her cheating husband to the swamps of Florida. She gets swept off her feet by an old flame to run down the aisle. SHE’S the one who gets to decide if she’s gonna marry him or decimate him (be his wife or smash his bike). She’s the girl who didn’t become the wife while she watches the one that got away marry his. She’s the woman scorned who has to call the whole thing off. She’s the saucy girl who bets her new lover is gonna marry her for real. She’s sold off as chattel to the highest bidder in an arranged marriage. She’s the young girl starry-eyed with the dreams she grew up with only to have them go up in flames, leaving only her pen behind to turn it into art.

She navigates all these scenarios because in the end, she isn’t any of them and she is all of them. She’s mourning what she gave up, mourning what she’s already lost, mourning the time she feels she wasted and could have started over. She’s mourning any number of women she could have been if she’d just tried something else, but also mourning that ultimately much of this was out of her hands. She’s grappling with a past that can’t change and a future that doesn’t exist. Every one of these scenarios is a way her life could have gone with any number of different decisions, but in the end, none of that matters, because she is who she is and what happened happened.

Obviously there’s a lot more going on in the album; she’s not just processing the end of relationships, she’s processing her fame and career and health and harassment and trauma and struggles and misogyny and any number of things in frankly shocking ways. But, I think there’s also no denying that this very important thing — the step many young adults expect to take in their lives — precipitated a whole lot of what went on, and may have even had a domino effect on all the other issues explored. It’s raw and vulnerable and ugly and funny and human.

Anyway apparently I’m back and thinking.

#maybe i should not sleep more often #the tortured poets department #writing letters addressed to the fire

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fictioninmyblood · 20 days ago

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Best Birthday Gift

Summary: Terry finally makes his way home just in time for his love’s birthday. Despite starting the day like any other, Y/N gets to end it with the best birthday gift ever.

A/N: I watched Rebel Ridge and it’s my birthday.

Warning: 18+ themes, fluff and angst(y)

Like most years Y/N had spent without Terry, Y/N looked forward to her birthday the same she did any day. She didn’t. It was always for others that she mustered up the energy to celebrate, but with Terry on active duty for the last few years and a swiftly dwindled social pool she hadn’t really had to lately. Now with Mike dead and Terry fighting through who knows what kind of white hell over in Silver Springs she hadn’t found the will to do more than pack and worry. She just kept praying that she would get another call from him soon.

Y/N had been hanging onto life by her bloody fingernails for years. When Terry crashed into her life, she had almost no craving to live. By the time he’d begun training troops, being stationed away from her for longer and longer periods, there wasn’t much she looked forward to each day. Despite finding some joy in becoming a teacher, Y/N still couldn’t help but see the world as it is. For all the serotonin those sweet babies brought her, knowing them brought just as much anxiety and despair. Terry had promised that when he was discharged he would put her on Dr. Richmond’s personal recovery plan. She would get to cook and bake and homemake as much as she wanted while he and Mike towed boats and he would come home to her every night to rub and kiss on her until all she could feel was their love. A traditional dynamic wasn’t popular these days, but with a man like Terry to ease her fears it was exactly what she was looking for.

The last 10 months of careful planning to finally build towards the growing old promises they’d made each other went out the window with one moment. Y/N had been upset to get that call from Mike in jail, the man doing exactly what she’d predicted and warned Terry about plenty of times. No matter how much they loved him, a pattern was a pattern and his kept putting their own plans on hold. He was always getting into trouble and Terry was always bending over backwards to get him out of it but this time had made her livid. She dug into him about it too, threatening that if he tried this shit in Florida he’d have to worry about her being his parole officer. Terry had worked too hard to make it out of the military with his body, mind, and heart intact, she’d be damned if Mike was the reason any part of him broke.

Too bad she couldn’t cuss him out now for doing just that. She loved Mike like family too, looking out for him in her own way while Terry was gone, but she didn’t know how to grieve. For some reason she still felt like all she had to do was wait a few weeks to pop him upside his head. The only thing Terry told her that had fully processed was the fact that he was in danger now. How could someone think about celebrating their birthday when the love of their life could potentially be strung up in the middle of some hick town to never be heard from again? How could she be happy to have her heart beating when a man she called family, no matter how much he made her mad, was dead? She could wait for him to call for a ride off of the prison lot all she wanted, it wasn’t coming ever again.

So she finished packing, ordered some takeout, took a gloriously long hot shower, lotioned, and cuddled up on her blowup bed in one of Terry’s old hoodies. Not many of his clothes still held his scent as strong as before so she only used the ones that did for emergencies or special occasions. Today counted as both.

Not wanting to think about what she spaced out on, Y/N started watching one of Terry’s favorite franchises. She was about 30 minutes into the first movie when her ring doorbell rang on her phone. Not bothering to look at the video feed, she opened the app and spoke into the phone.

“You can just leave it on the porch, thank you.”

“No can do ma’am, there’s some extra here you have to sign for.”

At the sound of his voice, Y/N finally looked at her video feed to see her baby on her porch looking dirty and exhausted but alive. She squealed, quickly kicking off her covers and ran to open the front door. Terry barely sat his backpack on the floor just inside the front door when Y/N launched herself into his arms, her own instantly locking around his neck. She felt the vibration of his soft laughter as he closed her door with his foot and walked to the island to put the food down.

As soon as the food was out of his hands, Terry grasped the underside of her ass where they met her thighs, helping her wrap them around his waist.

“Hi princess,” he said into her hair.

“You made it,” she mumbled back, still caught up in the feel of his arms around her waist and the smell of his irreplaceable scent drenching her senses.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Terry finally pulled back, pecked the tip of her nose, and looked at his lady. He kissed her sweetly until she started to lose her breath and pulled back to look at her when he was done. He kissed her forehead and took in not only her appearance but also the room. Spotting her makeshift cocoon he sat her on the island and rushed over to his backpack, bringing it with him. Y/N let her legs swing as she watched her man pull a pint of her favorite ice cream out his bag to put directly in the freezer along with a card and mini balloon.

She hadn’t meant to but she went from smiling to full out sobs in seconds as she watched Terry walk towards her with his small offering. It scared the crap out of Terry to see his princess fighting so hard to regulate her emotions and losing.

“Please don’t cry princess, it’s not even that much.”

“But-,” she couldn’t get any of her words out, too overwhelmed with this moment. Terry always seemed to have the magic touch of getting her to live in the now again, even if it meant sobbing uncontrollably. He was her safe place to just be in every form.

Terry cupped her face and wiped at her tears as he continued, “I didn’t even get you a proper gift.”

That made her throw her head back and laugh. “You lyin’ to me Terrance.” She sniffled away the last of her tears and grasped his face back. Y/N pecked his lips until he held her a little tighter and kissed her deeper. She put her hands on his back and rubbed up and down as the moment became extremely heated.

Y/N pulled her face away to really examine Terry, keeping her hands on his back, continuing their rubdown.

“You survived the military, whatever colonizer’s hell is going on in Silver Springs, made your way back to me on that bike for most likely most of the way, and still found time, energy, and resources to get my favorite ice cream and a card for my birthday.”

“Don’t forget your mini balloon.”

“That’s right, a mini balloon too! And the most important part of my gift Terrance Richmond,” she pecked his luscious lips a few more times, “you.”

Terrance was rubbing her lower back and the top of her ass when she grasped his face, her eyes darting between his swirling Hazel blues. She almost lost him, he almost didn’t make it, and it hadn’t been from his time in the military. Faced with what it felt like to finally breathe again, to have her heart beating with every breath he took, Y/N was finally looking forward to finishing the day.

Her voice cracked a little bit, but she held it together. “I almost lost you before I could have you again. This is the best birthday ever. You could have crawled in here needing an organ donor and it still would’ve been. You hear me?”

Terry smiled, only she could end up celebrating him on her birthday. “I hear you. How you wanna spend the rest of the day?”

“Go shower and only put clean undies on please. Your suitcases of clothes are still upstairs.”

Terry smiled wide, with every word Y/N was emoting more and more. God he missed this woman.

“Then?” He asked with a raise of his brow.

“We’re gonna eat and cuddle naked, well I’ll be all the way naked, but either way skin.”

Terry laughed out loud at that one. The life was definitely returning to her eyes, bringing the woman he left back to him. No matter how much pain and grief he suffered these last few weeks, he’d do it all again to end up here, with or without Mike. Mike was family but Y/N was his world, his inspiration, his safe place, and his home. Seeing how depleted her spirit was when he arrived, it nearly killed him to think of what she’d have turned into had he not made it.

“We can make that happen.”

With a few extra kisses to hold him over, Terry made his way to the bathroom and did as told. While he got cleaned Y/N read her card and set it up on the counter before she made their plates. By the time Terry made his way back into the living room, she had a tray set up to make things easier for them to sit down together.

He made her sit on the bed before him so that he could be the one to bring the tray over. After they ate, he cleaned up the food while Y/N changed to the next movie in the series before she removed the hoodie and wiggled on her feet, waiting impatiently. When Terry finally did lay down in the bed, Y/N instantly curled into his side, her head laying on his heart and one of her legs coming up to rest on his pelvis. The opening credits had just finished when Terry looked down at his lady and thanked god that he got to spend another birthday with her. It’d been a few years since he got spend her birthday with her and even longer since he treated her properly. She never cared, so long as he was there to share the day.

Y/N had been drifting but jolted out of her sleep and sat up rubbing at her eyes.

“What is it baby? You need something?”

She shook her head no just like a sleepy toddler and mumbled out, “Thank you for the best birthday gift big daddy.” As quickly as she sat up, she was back down, cuddled in his arms and quickly slipping into her dreams.

This was all she had wanted. To be held and comforted to sleep. It wasn’t much, but Terry had given her that. With the troubles of their lives waiting for the morning, Terry settled in, letting his pride swell with the knowledge that she considered him her best birthday gift.

#rebel ridge #terry richmond #terry richmond x black reader #terry richmond x y/n #terry richmond x reader #fictioninmybloodworks #fictioninmyblood #birthdayblurb

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hellishjoel · 1 year ago

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slow shift

7k / pairing: linecook!frankie x waitress f!reader

Series Masterlist l Next Chapter

series summary: Tommy’s Diner is where dreams go to die and burnouts clock-in for work. Waitressing would be boring without the flirtatious distractions of line cook Frankie Morales.

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), swearing, talking about w33d, alcohol consumption (not by reader or frankie, but discussions of alcohol), oral (f! receiving), discussions of periods and Plan B, frankie having a fat d!ick, slightly public sex, unprotected p in v (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), you know how I roll

A/N: welcome to the first part in my linecook!frankie series! It's all just going to be chaos!! enjoy dirty dishes, cussing, and decent food made by the hot linecooks. I’ll have a title as soon as I stop putting it off <3 enjoy! let me know what you think! also how LIT is the banner

here's my masterlist!

**follow hellishfics and turn on notifications get updates on my fic postings**

“Don’t-- mm -- don’t have a lot of time, Francisco.” You teased for dominance, using his full name made him muster up a dirty chuckle. You were ready to turn around and have him fuck you into the wall, but his hand snagged your wrist, and he stopped you. Confusion screwed into your face. Then his mouth muttered the most filthy thing you had heard yet from him. “Wanna see that pretty face when I fuck you.” He muttered, your body slumping into his. Fuck it, you were Frankie Morales’ tonight.

Welcome to hell.

A makeshift building somehow still holding up four walls that housed a small restaurant inside.

This wasn’t some secret treasure that belonged on an episode of Diners, Drive-Ins, & Dives or a hidden hole-in-the-wall five-star Michelin Restaurant. This was Tommy’s Diner.

The locals had different names for the run-down dump you called your place of employment: the Hometown Heartburn Hut (true), American Pie ( ha-ha funny), the Rusty Spoon (some guy OD’s behind the place one time, and no one ever forgets), or Tumbleweed, your pothead coworkers liked to call it. It was a tumbleweed because the restaurant was barren, emphasis on the weed to accommodate the faded line cooks that lurked in the back of the restaurant.

Don’t let today’s slow shift fool you; there were times when Tumbleweed was cram-packed. Friday night football games were busy with tailgaters, bustling with teens after a championship game. Other times, it was when a Greyhound bus or a similar cross-country vehicle drove through and took a stop for the passengers.

The most popular time of year was in the summer. Tommy’s Diner hosted Saturday night Cruise Nights. The town would flood with classic cars and hot rods, and the diner would transform into a drive-in. Their engines revved through different cities from far and wide to be at Tommy’s. That’s when the place felt the most alive, bustling with people and their laughter, little kids running with their milkshakes and flipping quarters into the rigged claw machine.

But it wasn’t a Saturday in August. It was a Monday. You were stuck with the misfit motley crew that did everything from dishwashing, cooking, bussing, running the register, being half-ass managers, and, of course, the token pretty waitress. You.

You will admit that each character working at Tumbleweed had a unique story etched into their grubby hands or baggy-eyed faces. They’ve weathered years of late-night shifts and condiment, grease-stained aprons.

Tonight there was Lou, the jaded by heartbreak teenage busboy. He walked with a shuffle, always sniffling about an ex-girlfriend. He worked slow and god damn, did that piss you off.

Then there was Tina, the aspiring singer stuck in a small-town type. She was newer, still learning how things worked since she had never waited tables a day in her life. She had that fresh twinkle of stardom in her eye despite being in her late 30’s. You were training her and trying not to let her drive you up the wall whenever she started singing different songs on the jukebox. Note to self: Put a sticky note saying it’s busted every time you work together.

Paul was the do-it-all guy. Toilet clogged? Get Paul. Dishes piling up? Ask Paul to do it. The cashier on a bathroom break? Paul can run the till. He was useful, just complained and grumbled a lot.

Tommy of Tommy’s Diner hasn’t worked a day in years. He’s older, so it’s understandable. Last thing you heard was he was down in Florida, living out retirement in a cheap home with a gambling addiction. Sounded like he was doing well for himself. But now his idiot son Rudy ran the place. Tommy’s picture was still on dusty display, toothy smile and all at the front door that people huddled in and out of—speaking of.

Your head lifted to attention as the bell above the door chimed, sighing in annoyance as you leaned back onto the counter. It was just Frankie.

“It’s fifteen after. You were supposed to be here on time today because we have to set up for Carla’s thing.”

Frankie breezed past you, aviators and stupid ballcap on, his smile lifted in a sneer. He was smacking on pink bubble gum as he neared your part of the counter and purposely shuffled past you with his hips against yours in an attempt to get into the kitchen. You couldn’t help but lean into him with a little smirk.

“Tommy said it was fine I was late.” He joked once he ducked into the back, your arms crossed as you followed him aimlessly.

You sigh and lean back against the locker next to his, watching him shuffle off his jacket.

“You disappoint me, Frankie.” Your face held a teasing pout.

“Never meet your heroes, baby.” That stupid fucking cocky smirk painted his face.

You opted to roll your eyes and look away as a defense tactic against Frankie’s flirty moves. Frankie calling you baby made your guts twist.

He was an ass ninety-nine percent of the time, but you two were hired the same summer a few years back and were the only ones who stayed once summer had run its course. You supposed it was bonded trauma after that.

New workers had come and gone, but you and Frankie were still at Tommy’s, still working crappy shifts on crappy hourly pay. Despite Frankie being a douchebag, he made the place bearable. He was comfortable. You knew each other.

“Can you just meet me on the floor like you were supposed to fifteen minutes ago and help with the banner? Carla’s going to be here at five, and you still have to make her special-”

“Jesus fuckin’- yes, I’ll be out in a few.” Frankie playfully groaned, shoving the brim of his hat into his mouth to hold it, his hands busy as he tied a tattered red bandana around his forehead before he replaced the cap back on. Okay… hot.

He took a deep breath once he finished, and leaned against the locker beside you, arms crossed, mimicking you as your shoulder brushed his bicep. You looked up at him, so many inches taller than you, as he looked down. Maybe too far down. He started at your eyes, but those eyes of his tended to wander right down to the cut of your shirt.

“Ugh- Frankie!” You rolled your eyes and pushed him away, readjusting your top as he playfully threw his hands up on the defense.

“You look fuckin’ gorgeous today, by the way!” He shouted as you exited the locker room, smiling and shaking your head with your back to him and throwing up your middle finger before the door swung closed with your exit.

---

You stood on the top of a dining table in your sneakers, attempting to hang a shitty banner you had painted for Carla’s birthday. You glanced down at the table and made a little face about the scuff you put in it. Oops. You can try and scrub it later.

There was no other person you or Frankie would do this stuff for. But it was Carla’s birthday and she was a diamond in the rough at this dump.

Carla's position at Tumbleweed is a mixture of human resources, accounting, decent management, and a mother figure to not just you but the entire staff. Besides Carla, we could all care less about everyone else's birthday. You were burning this ‘Happy Birthday!’ banner as soon as the clock struck midnight.

You let out an exhausted huff as you attempted to tack the final hanging string into the wall, but it was just out of reach. That’s when you heard the smacking of his stupid pink bubble gum. You didn’t even have to look.

“Are you gonna help me or not, Morales?” Your voice seethed in annoyance, not only to Frankie but also cursing your short legs and your just not long enough arms.

He didn’t say anything. Just crossed the differential space between you and took the tack and string into his meaty fingers.

You glanced down, watching his teeth capture his lower lip in concentration, checking to see if it was straight. Pushing the pin in, he backed up to where you stood on the dining table and crossed his arms in observance.

It was incredibly crooked. But it was the thought that counts, right?

“Good enough for me. You?” You glanced down at Frankie, and he was biting back a smile.

“What?” You pushed, narrowing your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s good.” Distracted by something else. “D’you paint this?” The warmth of his hand slowly crept onto the back of your calf, your chest tightening as he slowly skated it higher with no interference from you.

You gently nod, avoiding his eye contact as you look at the sign. Now, his hand was on the back of your thigh, and you had to take a breath. A mhm was all you could muster up.

His fingers delicately skimmed the skirt of your uniform, knuckles brushing against your backside. You used to hate these 50’s style waitress uniforms, but now they didn’t seem so damn bad because Frankie’s movements were making you lightheaded. Snap out of it!

“Need help down?” Frankie asked, hand at the ready on your hip.

You shook your head despite using his assistance anyway. You squatted on the table, black lace panties peeking out as you used Frankie’s broad shoulders as leverage. You put one foot down onto the linoleum and then the other, wiping your hands cleanly down your uniform as you both returned to look at the lopsided sign.

You hoped it was enough. You hoped she appreciated it, especially all that she’s done for you over the years. Covering your shifts, leveling out the register when you accidentally gave someone the wrong change, tucking extra tips into your apron when she knew your rent was coming up. Everyone needed a Carla, not everyone was lucky to have one.

“She’s gonna love it,” Frankie seemed to sense your nerves as he lifted his cap to bring some air to his sweaty dark curls before putting it back into place. “I’ll start workin’ on her special. Mushroom Swiss patty melt?” He said before disappearing into the kitchen again, only leaving once you gave him your little nod of assurance. You liked that he remembered.

---

“Happy birthday, Carla!” Uncoordinated voices cheered as Carla entered Tumbleweed right on time for her shift.

Her face lit up, and she looked beautiful. She packed a little extra blush and eyeshadow to commemorate the special occasion.

“Oh, shit- oh my- You guys! Thank you!” Carla made special eye contact with you, knowing you were the only one caring enough to orchestrate this shindig.

Carla has this soulful charm about her. Raised in Louisiana, she loved to cook family recipes and bring the leftovers to work for you and Frankie to fight over. You remember she had three kids at home, so she had this curvy mom's body that put a proud sway in her walk. A playful and confident woman at heart, she was all the regular’s favorite to see. And she knew everyone. And she knew everything. She put Tommy’s back in business during the slower seasons. People would come to see her face on Sunday mornings over their coffee and runny eggs.

“Oh, baby, thank you.” She cooed as she cupped your cheek and squeezed, making your face tick. “This the red velvet?” Her voice hummed as she observed the cake in your hands, pushing her finger lightly into the frosting to taste it.

You had pulled one of the cakes from the display case and shitily piped it with chocolate sauce ‘HBD!’.

“Of course, your favorite... Right?” You pursed your lips and snuck a nervous glance at Frankie before you set the cake down on the countertop.

Carla looked beyond touched for something you’d consider a bit lackluster. “It’s my favorite ‘cause you made it. Thank you, baby.”

You glanced around for the cake cutter, watching as Tina pushed a quarter into the jukebox and got the party started. Everyone was doing shitty dance moves, even the one or two customers that had filtered in for a cheap dinner.

You sighed as you looked behind the counter for the cake cutter, grabbing the cake and its stand to haul it to the back.

You thrust your shoulder blades into the swinging door, setting the cake stand on the counter as you started sifting through the different drawers to find the serving knife.

Half a carton filled with cigarettes; Frankie’s. Matches from an old jazzy gentleman’s club; Rudy’s. Hair ties; yours. Where’s the fuckin’ cake cutter?!

The music from the jukebox was more faded in the kitchen. The serving window, professionally called the pass, was just big enough to see faces and hand plates through from the kitchen to the front.

You made a face when you found the cake server inside a large pot-- how, no, why? Jesus Christ. Fucking idiots.

The swinging door to the kitchen wooshed in before slowly creaking closed, seeing Frankie coming to stand beside you in your peripheral.

You carefully plunged the slicer into the soft sponge of the cake, carving a piece for Carla and setting it on a plate. You reached forward across the counter for another small plate, the short skirt of your uniform revealing the curve of your ass to an overly curious Frankie. You could feel his heat burning through his chest.

“Could you be less obvious?” Your voice held teasing notes, putting another piece of cake on a plate and pushing them away to make space for more.

He had tried this a handful of times with you, and he had yet to be successful besides that one time when you both drunkenly made out at the last December holiday party. You were pretty sure he had been hung up on you ever since. You enjoyed watching him try.

Your eyes flitted over to his, observing his body and facial features.

He looked gross, honestly. The two meals he cooked including Carla’s special before she came in for her shift made his face and neck sweaty and his hands greasy, his apron to match. It was white at one time, a long, long time ago. His stupid red bandana was still tied around his forehead, catching the spare sweat droplets, as the kitchen became unbearably hot in the middle of August.

You probably didn’t look much better. Hair all over the place with makeup you put on in the morning probably half smudged off by now. Your hands were checkered in pen ink, a spare papercut from snagging a receipt from the register. But still decent. He was still decent.

His hand was back in dangerous territory, lingering low on your waist. He didn’t care if anyone saw him. You could feel warmth flooding your body, heat from the heart of his hand burning into your hip. He was admiring your body, slow and appreciative as he cupped the curve of your ass. And then he squeezed.

Your shaky hands barely got the fourth slice you cut onto a small serving plate. The cake cutter clattered onto the metal counter as Frankie shifted his body behind yours, his watchful eyes on the pass. No one was watching, stupid and oblivious. You swallowed a lump down your throat, your small hands clenching the rim of the counter. His hips were flushed against yours. Worst of all was that you really fucking liked it.

“This okay?” You’re flattered he asked after the fact.

You leaned back into his touch, quietly humming on the brink of a little moan. You were a little desperate for touch, maybe you’d be on your period soon. “Mhmm..”.

Frankie was a douchebag, but you two have been flirting back and forth with one another for years like an ongoing tennis match. He was older, he had years on you. Not an obscenely amount, but enough to make people raise an eyebrow. You were surprised he had the balls to actually make a move on you like he was right now.

“Like you in black.” Frankie’s voice was cut down to a murmur, low and all-enveloping. You weren’t sure if he was referring to the black in your waitress uniform or your black panties. Probably the latter.

His fingers brushed past your goosebump-covered ass and slipped between your legs to your clothed pussy. You softly gasped, eyes shifting closed as your hips involuntarily leaned into Frankie’s touch. You didn’t look subtle at all. You looked like you wanted to be touched, manhandled, kissed, fucked…

“Open your eyes, baby girl.” He purred, your chest already heaving. “Act normal.” You forced your eyes open, looking back at him with wide, innocent eyes. Needy pupils connected with his blown-out ones. The back of your head brushed his shoulder, setting it there for just a moment before he looked straight ahead.

Frankie nodded back to the pass, your eyes following his eye line to everyone distractedly dancing and sipping coffee mixed with bourbon on the floor.

You bit down on your lower lip, knuckles cast over in a milky white with the iron grip you held on the metal rim of the counter. Frankie’s body heat had disappeared from your back, and now you felt it cast against the back of your legs. You glanced around, seeing him on his knees behind you with his mouth now latched to the back of your thighs. Oh, fuck. His kisses sponged up higher, towards your heat.

Your eyelashes fluttered, Frankie’s act normal echoing through your hollow head. With distracted hands, you resumed cutting the cake. You probably looked slow and stupid, but feeling his patchy beard hair nestle between the sweet skin of your inner thighs had you in a haze.

Frankie’s big hands reached under your skirt, lining the black panties that sat snugly on your hips with his forefingers. He slowly peeled them down, feeling the material roll as he stopped them to rest halfway down on your thighs.

Your shoulders shuddered as your warm pussy met the slight chill of the outside world, panties adorning a little soaked spot.

“Frankie,” Mm? “Someone’s gonna see.” But you weren’t stopping him. You weren’t telling him to fuck off. You weren’t kicking him right in the gut like you probably could. In fact, you were leaning into him.

“Such a pretty pussy... Can’t stop, baby.”

A helpless whimper left your lips, thighs shaking at his affectionate, warm kisses.

Frankie’s hand swatted at the inside of your right ankle and then the other, hinting for you to spread yourself for him. You pursed your lips and shakily sighed, parting your legs as your sneakers lightly squeaked on the checkered floor. Fuck me, Frankie.

You didn’t know how much longer you could be patient. The waiting was tantric, hypnotizing you into seduction.

Spread for him and dripping, Frankie’s mouth finally attached to your slit. Your knee lightly jerked up and smacked a bus tub filled with dirty dishes, a few eyes on you through the pass as you nervously laughed. “S-Sorry!”

Frankie couldn’t help but let out a warm puff of laughter against your cunt, and you swore your insides were twisting at the sensation.

“Easy pretty girl… Don’t need us gettin’ caught. You want me to stop?” Frankie’s voice was husky, warm palms spreading your thighs, your body lightly bending over to lean on the counter. You tried to look busy with something, stupidly polishing a random fork. With the extra exposure, he had full access to your sex.

“Does it look like I want you to stop?” You finally punched out through air-abducted lungs, anxiously chewing on the skin of your lip. “Frankie.” You said in a hushed warning tone, wanting more and not knowing how to ask nicely for it. But that’s what he liked about you. You weren’t nice.

His lips finally attached properly to your pussy, his devilish tongue lining the center of your cunt and flicking off your clit. Your head dropped, ears ringing at the sensation.

You wondered how good he would feel if he could take his time instead of giving you head quick while all your coworkers were distracted. Maybe he could run his thumb over the front of your panties, trace the seam of your pussy, and feel how soaked you were for him and his attentive fingers. You thought Frankie had always been so down bad for you. He probably dreamed about getting this opportunity. He finally got you when you were just as horny for someone with a pulse. But this wasn’t all the time in the world; this was a slow shift at Tommy’s.

You rut your hips back into Frankie’s face, hot pants fanning fog onto the cool metal of the counter.

Frankie put his mouth where you needed him most, his tongue dedicating a poem to you. He flattened his tongue and licked a wide, wet strip up through your core, taking in all your juices. His tongue lapped at your weeping hole, thighs shaking against his head as you stifled a moan into the counter.

He was good, manipulative, a fucking menace.

Frankie’s tongue made precision flicks against your bundle of nerves, a gasp a bit too loud leaving the kitchen as you whimpered broken fragments of his name.

You weakly looked up, seeing Tina pluck another quarter in the jukebox, cranking the volume to some seventies soul music. Fuck being quiet.

Concealed by the groove of Stevie Wonder singing We Can Work It Out, your moans were hidden by the shake of a tambourine and plucks to an electric guitar.

“Goddammit, Frankie, mmm, so fucking good,” a gasp and a moan followed suit, lazily smirking with your eyes closed. “So fucking… hot.” You murmured.

Frankie’s mouth was a welcome wonder, dedicated to making you cum. He was swirling his tongue around your clit, weakly flattening your front over the counter again and pressing your cheek against the cool metal. Don’t be a douche right now, Francisco Morales. Make me fuckin’ cum.

The kitchen door swiftly swung open, and your body flew up to stand straight as Carla waited in the doorway.

“What’s taking you so long to cut my cake, baby? I know that bitch is stale as hell, but that don’t mean I don’t want it.”

Your eyes were wide, lips parted in an attempt to speak, but Frankie’s movements didn’t cease despite Carla’s unexpected intrusion. You bit back a whimper as he lined his tongue just barely into the tight entrance of your walls, his greedy fingers piercing into the flesh of your thighs to keep you spread. Thank god the counter covered your waist down.

“I-I’m sorry, I’ll be out in a sec.”

Carla looked you up and down, curious but ultimately not giving a damn. You could feel Frankie’s dirty smirk against your thighs.

“Alright... Hurry up. I’m tryna get my dessert.”

And with that, the door swished closed, and your back slumped at the relief.

Frankie’s unexpected voice made you jump lightly, his words echoing against you. “Gotta make ya finish fast, princess. Want my dessert, too.”

You whimpered but willed yourself to stand up straight and turn around to face him. He looked like a mess. Lust-filled black eyes and a cocky smirk to match. Your juices glistened on his lips and chin. Frankie would be incredibly hot if he knew how to keep his mouth shut.

“Taste as good as you look, princess.” Frankie stood up, tall and broad body making a white hot spot form in your stomach. Fuck, you couldn’t do this right now. Not right here.

He could tell. He took a few cautious steps away, you watched him carefully like a rattlesnake. He knew when not to push you and when to let you make the decisions. He also knew how to give you orders when you were too pussy fucked to think straight.

“Serve that cake and meet me out back.” He was looking over you, enjoying the few times you looked totally fucked like you did right now. He stepped back into your space and pulled your panties back into place, a sobby whimper leaving your lips as he gently cupped your aching mound with a smirk. “So fuckin’ needy, huh?”

“Fuck off.” You mumbled, fixing the bottom half of your uniform.

You watch as Frankie grabs the beer bottle you all used as a makeshift door prop and his half-carton of cigarettes you had brought out of a drawer in an attempt to find the cake cutter. He disappears out back into the alley. Shit, the cake.

You hurriedly sliced the remainder of the cake, placing a few stray candles into the slices. You lit them once you greeted the group waiting on the floor, singing a shitty rendition of Happy Birthday. Paul lights his cigarette from one of the candles, puffing smoke across the frosting.

The crowd hastily grabbed one of the small plates and a fork. Most of you only tried a bite or two. The cake had been in the display case for far too long.

---

Anxious and impatient, you slip into the back with everyone’s dirty dishes and sneak back into the kitchen. You do nothing more with them than chuck them into the sink for Lou to wash up at some point or another. Your eyes stare at the beer bottle keeping the back kitchen door ajar. You take in a deep breath, leaving a shaky sigh before following Frankie out into the alley.

The air was warm, a welcome breeze passing over you. The alley was everyone’s hideaway, littered with crushed beer and soda cans, two large garbage dumpsters, and a large one for recycling. You could see the highway in the distance. The sun was setting, and the sky was turning purple and blue. You’d watch those cars drive right past your little town, paying no mind, probably off going to somewhere bigger and better. The only people from the highway who stopped to visit Tommy’s were people who didn’t know any better.

A flick of a lighter crackled, dividing your attention. Frankie was smoking his cigarette, his back leaning against the brick wall of the diner. He was trying not to smirk. Seeing you out here was way too much power for him. He took a drag, the end of his cigarette lighting up in a glowing orange haze before he pulled it from his mouth. The smoke he exhaled was taken by the breeze.

“Happy to see me?” His goading tone asked.

“No.” A challenge. A pause.

“So, you want me to go back inside?”

“No.” Another beat. A step closer to him, arms crossed. He’s smart enough to let his cigarette land on the ground.

“So, you want me to stay out here?”

Silence. Staring. Gauging each other’s reactions. Your tight jaw meets his cocky smirk. Too stubborn to ask meeting too stubborn to give without begging. Fuck.

Maybe it’s because you’re both desperate. Maybe because Frankie knows you. Knows you’re too stubborn to ask for him to fulfill your needs. Your inaction meets his unwillingness to waste another moment that he could be inside of you.

Stomping on his cigarette before closing the distance between you two, he envelopes you in a kiss that robs you of your breath. He tastes musky and bitter. The smoke that recently captured his lungs was hot on your lips.

Your heart was beating with excitement, happy to lose control for a moment as Frankie walked you blindly backward into the brick wall. Ouch.

Your tongues danced in a rhythmic motion, seducing you into letting him take the power as the kiss deepened. The flavor was subtle but distinct. The Marlboro’s held an acrid undertone, an unexpected layer of the kiss you sort of liked. If he tasted like spearmint gum, it might have turned you off.

It was like you were his cigarette now, breathing you in and clinging to you in addiction. It was his bad habit, but who were you to judge. You had a closet full of skeletons you weren’t open to anyone seeing. Maybe this was one of his.

His hands were a welcome guest, feeling his warm palms explore a body he had probably fantasized about.

“Don’t-- mm -- don’t have a lot of time, Francisco.” You teased for dominance, using his full name made him muster up a dirty chuckle.

You were ready to turn around and have him fuck you into the wall, but his hand snagged your wrist, and he stopped you. Confusion screwed into your face. Then his mouth muttered the most filthy thing you had heard yet from him. “Wanna see that pretty face when I fuck you.” He muttered, your body slumping into his. Fuck it, you were Frankie Morales’ tonight.

Frankie guided you further from the backdoor, hearing voices enter the kitchen. Probably Paul and Lou to start working on closing chores. He took you behind the dumpsters and hiked up your dress. You decided to be useful and push your panties down. He rounded up the material that was tying you up at your ankles and shoved them into his pocket. You were not letting him keep those.

You pushed his apron aside, fingers fussing over his belt buckle. He watched, amused, unwilling to help. He liked seeing you so desperate for his cock. Unbuttoned. Unzippered. Black boxer trim peaking out now. You made slight eye contact with him before you shoved his pants and boxers down to his thighs. Your heart clenches at how girthy he was. Fuckkk, this was gonna feel good.

He didn’t take his apron off, merely shoved it to the side as it haphazardly swayed on his hip. He closed the distance between you again, a greedy kiss, a kiss to mark you with. You pulled away to spit into your hand, taking him by his base and squeezing.

Frankie’s eyes shuddered closed, his head dropping as you took his manhood in the small of your hand. He was.. more than a handful. He was so meaty, not even able to wrap your fist fully around him.

You purred out a little moan as you worked your hand over him, feeling him grow heavy in your hand as you lubed up his tip, slowly circling your thumb teasingly around the pulsing head.

“Enough.” He muttered. He didn’t like you toying with him.

Frankie hiked up your leg by the underside of your calf, hooking around his hip as you leaned your back against the cold brick wall. It wasn’t comfy, but when you fuck against a run-down diner, you don’t get many options.

Your chest shuddered as you felt his cock heavy against your folds, erect and brushing up against where you needed him most. He was running his hand up and down himself now. You watched as he put down another line of spit from his mouth to his cock before his knuckles shuffled up and down his shaft a few more times.

The sight made you reel your head back and stare up at the sky. As eager as you are, you’re worried about feeling how thick he is. He knows.

“M’gonna go real slow.” He punches out, setting his forehead down against yours, and you shakily nod. Please don’t fucking split me in two, Frankie Morales. You still have a shift to finish, after all. You’re thankful he at least acknowledges his girth. It’s sort of the elephant in the room.

You both look down at your centers, your dripping one and his angry, pink head meeting in unison. It’s sort of fucked up the way that you’re two horrible people. But you knew horrible people always seemed to find each other.

You wet your lips and bite down. Hard. You weren’t a fresh spring virgin, but this wasn’t any other half-decent dick.

You lay your head back against the wall as Frankie guides himself into your welcoming entrance. Your wetness lubes him up well, but he’s still large.

You clench your eyes close and smile. The pain is always pleasure. “Fuck,” you mutter, your head wanting to come back down and watch.

Frankie’s being gentle, an odd word you’d never describe him as. He’s grunting and impatient, but patient for you. He fills you up to the brim and your head is flooded with clouds. You’re in the sky, lightheaded, but so fucking horny.

His hips meeting yours are a gentle greeting, both of your lips brushing as you shared pants of desperation as well as relief. Your stomach was tight, recoiling with the pressure he was providing to the inside of your walls.

“God-

“Jesus-

“-fucking damn.”

“Christ.”

The two of you moaned in unison.

Your nails are piercing into his shirt, bunching around the tops of his shoulders. You move to grip his apron for some sort of control. There is none.

One of his hands is still supporting your leg wrapped around his hip, the other flattened against the brick wall beside your head. You took solace in his arm, resting your forehead against it weakly.

He was cocky for a reason. His length in inches was his amount of reasons.

“Fuck me.” You finally mustered up enough strength to demand. He shakes his head against yours.

“Give it a minute.” He mutters, barely coherent. You’re scrumptiously tight around him, and you know it. You both do.

“We don’t have a minute.” You feverishly bite back, attempting to shift your hips against his. He retaliates by planting his hips against you, fucking the final few inches of his dick into you as you both fell deeper into the wall.

A hot moan rolled off your tongue, hiding your face away in his forearm and shuddering your eyes closed. Frankie’s hand slipped from your leg, cupping the globe of your ass in his warm hand. He squeezed and it made you smile as he reeled his hips slowly back.

He grumbles something.

“What?” You asked with a dopey grin. He pushes back inside you and wipes the smirk clear off your face.

“I said… you’re so fuckin’ impatient.” His voice was tattered with grunts, your tight little pussy making it hard for him to breath.

Now he was creating a rhythm, fucking you into the wall in steady thrusts. You were already feeling your insides tug eagerly in excitement, the hot pool he had created in your guts simmering to a boil.

“Mhmm, mhm, mhm,” you moaned in silent begs, moans you had to read between the lines to understand. Fuck me, fuck me harder, fuck you feel good, I-I can’t think of anything other than fuck! Fuck me, Frankie!

He filled you up to a brim you had yet to discover you had. His tip tickled your cervix with each snap of his hips. He was getting greedy, a little sloppy. You’d judge him on this short-lived fuck later, for now, it was perfectly timed to get back into work without anyone noticing.

Your eyes widened and met his murky brown ones as he moved the hand he had against the wall nudged between your thighs, circling your clit. It was messy at first, but he found what made you tick and adjusted. Now he was running tight circles around you, and you were finding it hard to stay silent.

“Feel so fuckin’ perfect for me.” He murmured, his lips ghosting over yours in a teasing motion. You actually wanted to taste him again, so you leaned into it, your tongue lining his mouth and tasting his old cigarette with a moan.

Now he was filling you up, no hesitancy in his hips as he snapped the full extent of his length into your cunt. Your head flew back against the orange and red brick, a fucked moan leaving your mouth. Neither of you cared. Frankie’s face was nuzzled against your jawline and neck, sloppy kisses tasting old perfume as the circles on your clit intensified your impending orgasm.

“F-Fuck, Frankie, shit, I’m gonna-” You gasped and closed your eyes, clutching your arms weakly around his shoulders and holding him to you. His body enveloped you like a shield protecting you from anything in your surroundings.

Your orgasm crashed over you, coursing through your body like a million volts of electricity as you whimpered and moaned into his neck. Your eyes were clamped closed, your walls clenching and fluttering around his sensitive cock.

His moans were heavenly, guttural and deep, a little shaky even as he puffed them into your neck and shoulder. His hips twitched against the inside of your thighs as he came undone inside of you. It felt like he was cumming for days, filling you up with white rope after white rope of his semen and painting your insides with only remnants of him.

You couldn’t think. You just focused on the distant sound of the highway, creating a bustling amount of white noise for you. You gently held his head to keep him close, your shaky hand winding into his hair as the two of you reconciled over your orgasms.

He was the first one to move. He slipped himself from you and gave you a few lazy kisses. Your stomach fluttered before you shook your head.

Stop it, Frankie.

‘M not doin’ anything.

Teasing smiles. Hands softening their holds on each other’s bodies. Fixing hair. Fixing undergarments.

He would have held onto your panties. He probably hoped you forgot about them. You tugged them from his pocket and attempted to slip into them with ease, but you ended up having to use the brick wall as a support to lean into.

You steadied his apron straight, and he pulled the skirt of your uniform down. Teamwork.

You don’t really talk, just clean yourselves up, nod, and dart back inside before anyone can really notice or give a damn that you were missing in action. You kept having to excuse yourself to the bathroom, feeling Frankie still seeping from you. It made your chest hot, an embarrassed smile on your face.

Fuck it. That’s what Plan B is for. Or you can just wait to see if you get your period in a few days time.

---

You and Frankie danced around one another during the closing shift. Carla went home and took the cake in a to-go container to give to her kids. It was shitty that she had to work on her birthday, but she said that getting to see your gorgeous face was a present of its own.

You tiredly yawned, seeing it was a few minutes past ten. You helped Tina even out the cash register, putting today’s earnings in an envelope, then putting it in the safe for Rudy to take to the bank at the end of the week.

“You sure you don’t mind cleaning up on your own?” Tina asked, giving her a tired smile and a soft shrug.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you Wednesday.” Despite her annoying singing, Tina wasn’t that bad. She gave you a big grin before she hopped off the stool and left out the front door. Lou and Paul had already left at the start of closing. You didn’t know if Frankie snuck out the back early.

You did a double take to the jukebox, watching Frankie flip his baseball hat backward and push a quarter into the machine. Your face softened, seeing him flip between the different records before landing on one.

Something by Fleetwood Mac started playing. You watched him reach up and untack your banner from the wall easily. You nodded softly before grabbing the spray bottle filled with disinfectant and began wiping down the counters, seats, and tables.

He walked up to you once you finished cleaning, handing you your folded-up banner. You twisted your lips in thought, rolling the banner around in your hands.

“Wanna help me burn this in the burn barrel out back?”

Frankie sighed and put his hands on his hips. “Yeah. Fuck it. Got nothin’ better to do.”

---

With Frankie’s lighter, both of you watched with glassy eyes as the Happy Birthday! banner burnt to ashes. His face was lit up in orange and yellow hues. He haphazardly tried to lean into the flames with a cigarette dangling between his lips, a stupid laugh leaving you. He shrugged and put the cigarette behind his ear.

“Fuck it.” He huffed, both of your eyes transfixed on the fading flames.

There was a beat of silence.

Frankie’s eyes met yours. “We should do that again sometime.”

Half of your mouth quirked up into a smirk. “Do what?”

He cocked his head to the side in annoyance. “You know what.”

You shrugged and shoved your hands into your jacket pockets. The hum of the highway in the distance made you flashback to just a few hours ago with Frankie railing you against Tumbleweed. A black and purple-streaked night sky submerged the two of you, making you feel tiny. You sigh and shift on your feet, keeping your eyes on the flames that licked up the ay! in Birthday!

“Maybe.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Maybe?”

“Mhm.”

Frankie teetered on your half-ass decision. Even the notion of having an open door left for him to sneak in was enough to make him happy. “Okay. I’ll take a maybe.”

God, you were bluffing so hard. Maybe it wouldn’t be sooo bad to throw him a bone every once in a while.

Your fantasizing was cut short as ashes of the banner spewed up from the depths of the barrel and fluttered up into the air between you and Frankie, both of you taking a preemptive step away.

His lighter clicked again; he had to do it a few times before the end of his cigarette caught a flame. “I’ll see you when I see you.” He murmured. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was trying to walk you to your car, wanting to leave, but not until you started heading home, too.

He swung his body into the driver seat of his beaten-up pickup truck. You decided to follow suit, sliding into your car. You saw Tommy’s fade away from the rearview mirror in the distance. But the thoughts of Frankie between your legs, fucking you into oblivion, and begging to serve your aching center would sit with you until your next shift at Tumbleweed. Sorry. Tommy’s Diner.

---

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delulujuls · 11 months ago

Text

emotional support rivals | ls18, sp11

hi! i dont know how to comment on this one, basically i thought that i would try to tame sergio and lance a bit because i know that some people may not like them as much. but they did pretty well here!

anyway, enjoy!

summary: reader is having the worst day of her life aka first day of her period, lance and sergio dont know how to act but they tryna be supportive

warnings: none i think

pairing: lance stroll x fem!mclarendriver x sergio perez

This day was terrible. And that was it.

But you might ask, how could a day be terrible when it hadn't even had a chance to start? Y/N just felt in her bones that this would be the case. She also knew her current schedule of duties, which considering the current jetlag that weighed heavily on her mind, added quite a bit to her already full plate.

Of course, days like these were allowed to exist; balance in life was the norm. Nevertheless, Y/N fervently wished for this one to, as soon as possible, come to an end.

Unfortunately, a quick end was out of the question, as her alarm had just rung. She struggled to open her sleepy eyes and saw the gloomy 6:30 on her phone's display.

She sighed and sat up in bed, feeling an unpleasant sensation in her stomach. She was familiar with this feeling and it signaled one thing and one thing only.

"Oh no, it can't be."

Y/N muttered under her breath and quickly reached for her phone, opening one of the apps. The notification confirmed her worst fear. "Your period may start today!"

"Fantastic, just fucking fantastic."

In a already bad mood, she tossed her phone into the pillows and got up with a symphony of groans, sighs and curses. As soon as she got out of bed she checked the sheets but the snowy white fabric assured her that today would be a one big roulette of waiting for her period to start.

When she showered and got ready to leave, she also packed her emergency kit for days like this. She had to use it partially though, because the pain in her stomach was simply unbearable. And it wasn't the typical stomach ache that everyone thinks of when they hear 'oh no, my stomach hurts' but this stomach pain was the Lance Stroll of all stomach pains. It doesn't seem to hurt too much, but it spoils your whole mood with its terrible nature.

Since talking about Stroll, it happened like that she still had practice laps that day, which she failed to pass while everyone else did. As it turned out, the same task was waiting for Lance, because in the cafeteria, apart from the busy employees, there was him. And that damn Mexican, too.

"What time are you supposed to be on the track?"

Checo asked from behind her when she was grabbing breakfast from one of the swedish tables.

"What happened to 'hi, good morning'? 'Buenos dias,' at least?"

She muttered, pouring syrup on her pancakes.

"Normally you don't talk to me, so I figured there's no point in trying."

He replied, somewhat thrown off by her response.

"Hello Sergio, nice to see you too and yes, it just happens that we're stuck with each other today. I'm on at 10am, you're ahead of me at 9, and that Aston idiot is at 11."

Y/N said sarcastically, putting on the nicest tone she could muster.

Sergio didn't know how to respond, so when she turned to leave for her table, he simply stepped out of her way.

Lance ate in silence, observing the scene quietly. He was watching the McLaren sun, today completely covered by stormy clouds, going away and sitting alone. Inadvertently his gaze met with Checo, who just shook his head and returned to choosing his breakfast.

Y/N sighed heavily, sitting at one of the empty seats. She ate absentmindedly, not used to the absence of Oscar and Lando. They had different things to attend to that day, so it wasn't unlikely that they wouldn't even cross paths. Maybe it was even better for them; each of them would probably receive a monthly dose of sulking. The charms of being the only girl in the company could be really tough at times.

And it's not that Y/N was a pain in the ass only for Oscar and Lando. She got along well with most people she interacted with daily. A few times she even went out with other girls; she wasn't limiting herself to the company of guys only. Unfortunately, Oscar and Lando had happened to take a particular liking to each other, which made the trio basically unseparable.

There were people with whom she didn't have frequent contact, or with whom she only exchanged smiles in passing but she had never had the chance to exchange a word.

It's also known that in life you can't be liked by everyone and not everyone can be liked by you. In this case, there was no magical exception. It just so happened that she would spend today in the company of those people who sat at the other end of the cafeteria, occasionally throwing her stolen glances.

After finishing her meal, the girl got down to her duties, wanting to bring this day to an end as quickly as possible. At the appointed time, she appeared on the track, quickly changing into her racing suit. She put on her helmet and after a brief discussion of notes, she sat in the car. That's when she felt that something was wrong. The worst-case scenario flashed before her eyes.

"Can I quickly go to the bathroom?"

She asked, looking at the technician nearest to her.

"We're a bit behind schedule. Can it wait?"

Y/N resignedly nodded. She knew there was nothing left to salvage.

She adjusted her straps and when she got the signal to leave the garage, she drove outside and headed straight for the track. After the radio test and receiving permission to start, she clenched her fists and roared the engine.

She was angry and as it's known, there's nothing worse than a female rage.

She was angry at this day, at herself, at this damn car. She was angry at the bloodstain on her damn orange suit, even though she hadn't seen it yet.

She was so hormonal that if it weren't for the helmet restricting her movements, she would have screamed at the top of her lungs.

However, female anger was priceless.

"Best lap time, I repeat, best lap time."

She tightened her grip on the steering wheel, not responding to the message.

In moments like this, she didn't care about anything. And it's pretty well known that a person who doesn't care has nothing to lose.

When the session ended and she received the message that she could pull into the pit lane, she complied. Mechanics rolled her into the garage and only then did it dawn on her that her hands were still clenched on the steering wheel. When she managed to free herself from the car, she immediately checked her seat. She cursed under her breath and took off her helmet, placing it aside. Quickly grabbing the nearest rag, she began to wipe away the stain of shame on her seat. The technician, whom she asked about going to the bathroom before the start, when he realized what had happened and what she was doing, just gave her an apologetic look.

She unzipped her suit and slid its top off, covering the stain on her backside. Zac wanted to congratulate her on the result and discuss the outcomes, but she apologized and grabbed her emergency kit, heading straight to the bathroom. She changed into her unstained clothes, guarded against another unpleasant surprise and bundled up the suit, muttering under her breath that a visit to the laundry awaited her later that day.

When she returned to the McLaren garage, Zac, upon seeing her, immediately smiled.

"Young lady, you charmed us today! You literally flew in that car!"

"I guess that's good, I think."

The girl replied, mustering a smile as she glanced at the monitors in front of her.

"Good? It's brilliant!"

Zac replied with a smile and checked his notes.

"After checking the car, I would ask you to put on your suit again for a moment because we need to do a few more laps on different tires."

"I thought that was it for today."

Y/N replied, looking at him.

"Now, you were driving on mediums; it would be good to know what time you can achieve on the hard compound."

The girl tightened her suit under her armpit.

"But—"

She started, but it felt silly, so she lowered her voice and approached him, "My suit is not suitable."

"How so? What happened?"

He frowned and looked at the bundle she was holding.

"I won't be able to drive in it anymore today."

Zac looked confused, so she just said "period" without using any words. He quickly understood and immediately nodded his head.

"Ask someone if we have another suit in stock. It would mean a lot to me if we could finish these tests today."

Y/N nodded and walked away, sighing heavily when she was out of his reach. However, as it turned out, racing suits are not as straightforward as one might think and the only McLaren suit in this garage was hers—rolled up into a ball of shame and unfit for use. One of the women upon hearing her situation only gave her a comforting hug and suggested borrowing a suit from Sergio or Lance, taking advantage of the fact that they were only drivers nearby. The situation was exceptional and it was all about internal measurements.

Disheartened by the fact that she would be forced to confront the men, she left the garage and looked around. Checo and Lance were sitting nearby, chatting in front of the Aston Martin garage. Y/N gathered herself and approached them, causing them to immediately pause their conversation.

"Can I borrow a suit from either of you?"

"You drive for McLaren, not for Aston or Red Bull."

Sergio said, taking a sip from his bottle. The girl involuntarily clenched her fists. Be professional, she thought and took a deep breath.

"If I didn't have to, I wouldn't ask. I need a suit; mine... is not suitable for driving."

"What happened?"

Lance asked, glancing at her. His expression lacked the hint of malice that Sergio currently possessed.

"I just need one; is that not enough?"

"Give a good reason and I might even give you mine."

Pérez said, crossing his arms.

"I just got my period which means my suit is having a fucking bloodstain on my ass and even though I feel like they're cutting me in half completely alive I have to do some extra laps because this fucking fat idiot didn't think about pitstop to change my tyres and let me go straight to the track" Y/N she spoke quietly and calmly, but her voice was dripping with fury "So do me the pleasure and let one of you give me your overalls before something hits me, for fucks sake."

Lance and Sergio stood still. Sergio's face lost its fierce expression and Lance suddenly realized that he had started holding his breath out of stress.

"I'll give you mine, no problem."

Stroll spoke up, starting to unzip his suit.

"Yours is light, you idiot; if something happens again, everything will be visible."

Pérez scolded him and turned his gaze back to the girl.

"Wait a moment; I'll bring you mine right away."

Y/N nodded and watched him leave.

"Do you feel very bad?"

Lance asked, looking at her. He couldn't wrap his head around how the girl standing in front of him, bleeding and all, could endure such a great strain and still set the best lap time.

"It's been better."

She sighed.

Lance, not knowing exactly what to do or how to help, reached out his hand with a bottle in it. Y/N looked at the bottle first and then at his face. Seeing that he was genuinely concerned, she whispered a quiet 'thanks' and took the water from him.

Sergio returned shortly after, handing her his suit.

"I hope it'll fit well for you."

The girl handed back Lance his water and thanked Pérez as well.

"Good luck, tigresa."

Y/N nodded at them one last time and returned to the garage, changing into the borrowed suit and taking her place in the car again.

As she sat there, waiting for permission to leave the pit lane, she noticed that she wasn't angry anymore, at least not as much as she was some time ago. When she drove out and headed towards the track, she passed Lance and Sergio once again, who were giving her thumbs up.

For the first time that day Y/N genuinely smiled and who would have thought it would be thanks to her rivals, who had now become her emotional support ones?

#f1 imagines #f1 one shot #f1 #formula 1 #f1 oneshots #f1 imagine #lance stroll x reader #sergio perez x reader #sp11 #ls18

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friendly-neighborhood-boricua · 8 months ago

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[1] Parent-Teacher Conferences

Summary: James meets his favorite student's mother for the first time.

Notes: Marauders modern elementary school AU, kindergarten teacher!James Potter x nurse!reader, mom!reader x son!OC (Liam), inspired by this post by @ravishinglavishingluvr

Next Part: Seeing Each Other Around Town Series Masterlist here

teacher!james teacher!james teacher!james teacher!james teacher!james teacher!james teacher!james teacher!james teacher!james teacher!james teacher!james teacher!james teacher!james teacher!james teacher!james te—

specifically james as a kindergarten teacher

(see inspiration post)

(just kindergarten instead of preschool)

(yaknow, for the plot)

Okok lets get started :D:D:D

You’ve got a sweet baby boy of a son (I’m sorry if you don’t!! I also don’t but idk my stepmom is pregnant with a boy and I’m super excited and this mess is what came out so here you go)

And he’s five and in James’ kindergarten class

Baby boy is just the sweetest little thing

James loves him to death

He’s smart and nice and helpful and just an absolute gem

Like seriously tho James goes to the library during his lunch break to hang out with school librarian!Remus and school secretary!Sirius and just can’t shut up about how much he loves your son like James just talks about him the whole lunch period

And Remus and Sirius are like

“That’s great, James 😐"

But James doesn’t care he’s just too excited to have such a bright young boy in his class

And also (because James is nosy af) he’s super curious to see what kind of parents this kid has

So parent-teacher conferences roll around and he’s like “What kind of geniuses are raising this kid?? Let’s see em????”

And then nurse!reader rolls up to the 7:30 PM meeting, still in her hospital scrubs and profusely apologizing for being like three minutes late

And James is like

What.

Not at ALLLLLL what he was expecting

(not that he’s complaining, you’re fucking adorable and a great break from all the stuffy parents he’s had to deal with all day)

So you and him sit down and talk about your son’s work at school

And James just gushes about him to you practically the whole time

Like legit James fell for him before he even met you

Meanwhile you’re like

1) damn i didn’t know my kid’s teacher was so pretty

(Not like that’s important ofc because you have priorities and your son always comes first.)

And 2) but like can my son read?? Can he do math?? Are you teaching him science sir????

And James is like “yeah but he’s NICE and KIND and EMPATHETIC

“DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO GET FIVE YEAR OLDS TO SAY THEY’RE SORRY

“AND HE JUST DOES IT”

And you’re like

“……yeah…… bc that’s an important part of learning to be a good person … ofc I showed him how to be kind?? Like what????”

And James

(poor baby’s bar is on the floor from all the Karens who’s kids he teaches)

He’s just so enamored about how you’re just like naturally kind and caring??

And you imparted that onto your kid????

Your conference time is the last one on James’ schedule, and he absolutely irritates the fuck out of Remus and Sirius as he drives them back to their flat

Like he can’t shut up about you

And your kid

Like he just loves your son

And has a little puppy-love crush on you

Remus pretends to be annoyed and Sirius teases him

But when James drops them off they’re already planning your wedding

(Remus: “You know, we haven’t actually even met her …” Sirius: “So? Have you ever seen James this smitten??? It’ll happen, love. Trust the process.”

Next Part: Seeing Each Other Around Town

#teacher!james potter #teacher!james potter x reader #james potter x reader #teacher!james potter x you #james potter x you #nurse!reader #james potter x nurse!reader #teacher!james potter x nurse!reader #james potter x mom!reader #mom!reader #librarian!remus #librarian!remus lupin #school librarian!remus #school librarian!remus lupin #secretary!sirius #secretary!sirius black #kindergarten teacher!james potter

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missjomarch · 8 months ago

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Josephine - Luke Hughes

A/N: This is the longest thing I have ever written. Like actually. I heard the song Josephine by Pony Bradshaw and my brain was begging me to do something creative with it, so I wrote this. But I'm on my period so it turned very sad and angsty quickly. So now you all get to suffer along with me! With that said please please read the warnings and if at any point you feel uncomfortable click away.

Word Count: 3.7k 😳

Warnings: Grief and angst with no real happy ending or comfort. Cursing, crying, mentions of blood and pain. A half second on 18+ content but no explicit details.

(Portions in italics are flash backs. Enjoy, lovelies. 🫶)

Luke Hughes sat sprawled in one of the cushioned armchairs spaced across the rooftop bar the New Jersey Devils currently resided on. His view of the New York skyline was fuzzy, but he wasn’t sure if it was because of the beer in his left hand or the smoke from the joint in his right. The one thing he was sure of was that he didn’t want to be here, and he damn sure didn’t want to be sober. Luke could feel the pitying looks from his brother and captain all the way across the bar, but at least they hadn’t made any comments tonight.

The team had won the game earlier in the day by a large margin and Luke wasn’t beating himself up over minuscule mistakes like he used to. No, that wasn’t the issue. In fact, Luke was playing some of the best hockey he had in years. His on-ice performance was probably the only reason he was even still on the team, considering that he had been skipping most morning skates and all public appearances for the past few weeks.

He had seen the therapist the team provided and taken the weeks off that the trainers had suggested, so he isn’t sure why they insist on continually doing mental checkups on him. It was irritating. Especially when he didn’t give them the answers they wanted, so they sent Jack to pester him instead. All it did was remind him of you.

“Luke.”

His head snapped towards where you sat in the passenger seat of his car, eyes shining and a soft smile on your lips.

“The light has been green for like 30 seconds, babe. What’s going on in that pretty head, hm?”

Luke always swore that your sweet voice could melt 20 feet of snow in the dead of winter. It was like coming home from a long day to a warm house. It was one of his favorite things about you. So, because he knew you’d ask the question again, he simply shrugged his shoulders in response. He fully planned to keep his troubles to himself in an attempt not to worry you, but then your manicured hand was running through the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Tell me about it, Lu. What’s wrong?”

With your use of the nickname, he was gone. Suddenly all the world’s problems were spilling from his lips, and he couldn’t stop them even if he wanted to. You tended to have that effect on people. You were just so damn easy to talk to. And the best part? You almost always knew how to make it better. A quick kiss and a Band-Aid, and Luke was back on his way with a smile.

“Luke,” you mumbled, “Luke…”

“Luke.”

Jack stood in front of his brother, shaking his shoulder to break him from his trance.

“You okay?” Jack questioned, not missing the shine in Luke’s eyes as they were torn from the skyline view. He watched as Luke took a deep drag from the joint in his hand, exhaling the smoke as he attempted to clear the lump from his throat.

“Fine, Jack.”

“Bullshit,” Jack couldn’t help the scoff he let out, “Get up, we’re going home.”

Luke didn’t have it in him to argue. Not that he would have, anyway. He never wanted to leave the house in the first place, especially after the situation Jack got him into the last time they had gone out. 2 months ago, his brother had dragged him to this same rooftop bar insisting that it’d be good for him to get out there again. It took all of 30 minutes before Jack was pushing Luke in the direction of a random girl. “A good fuck will fix you right up”, Jack had claimed.

“Luuuuke,” the girl below him moaned as he kissed down her neck. He didn’t know her name, didn’t particularly care to either. He was a bit too busy resenting his brother for setting him up with this random girl in the first place.

He tried to ignore the hot anger flowing through him, tried to focus on the heavy breathing of the blonde and the way her nails were raking down his back. Luke’s hands dipped under her shirt, quickly finding her bra and giving it a harsh tug downwards. His fingers fumbled deftly until they gripped her tits, drawing a sharp gasp from the girl.

“Oh! Lu, please,” she whined. When he didn’t respond, she went to pull his face to hers. But Luke had froze, brain short circuiting at the nickname he hadn’t heard in over 8 months.

His throat was burning. His breath turned ragged as he yanked his hands from beneath her shirt. He stared at her with wild eyes, chest heaving.

“Get out,” he ground out. His heart was pounding. What was wrong with him?

“Are you okay?” The blond started back at him with a horrified expression, and Luke had to bite his tongue to keep from spitting out any malicious words. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Leave, please.” He begged, unable to look her in the face.

“Luke, I don’t understand,” she tried to reason, “Luke…”

“Luke.”

Jack was looking at him expectantly from the driver’s side of his sleek BMW as he navigated the late-night New Jersey traffic. Luke blinked slowly, trying to clear the bitter memory from his foggy mind.

“Sorry, what’d you say?” Luke questioned, choosing to ignore the concern blaring in his brother’s eyes. Jack seemingly decided to let it be, instead jumping back into whatever he originally asked.

“I was asking if you thought the stadium series would be a good time to introduce Sydney to mom and dad? I know it’s only been a few months, but I don’t know when they’ll be in town again.”

Luke nodded, “Are you just going to do it at dinner? Or the hotel?”

Jack hesitated, clearly contemplating the options before lighting up, “What if I brought her to the family skate? She’s been wanting to learn anyways! It be just like when you brought jo-” Jack choked on his words, immediately recognizing his mistake. He turned towards his brother, attempting to get a read on his face in the dim light of the passing streetlamps. But Luke had already shut down, face turned to stare blankly out the window.

Jack reached over to give a comforting squeezing to Luke’s left shoulder, “Luke.”

“LUKE!” you squealed as your hands white knuckled his sweatshirt. He giggled at your skating stance before pulling you to his chest.

“You alright there, Bambi?” He smirked down at you as you sent him a glare.

“I’m new to this, asshole. It’s not my fault my teacher is no good,” you threw back at him. It was your turn to smirk as Luke’s mouth hung open in mock offense.

“I’ll have you know that I’ve taught hundreds of kids across the state of New Jersey how to properly skate.”

“Those poor kids,” you quickly retorted, sticking your tongue out as he scowled at you. However, that scowl quickly faded into a look of mischief and your face dropped as his arms loosened around you.

“Fine. Suit yourself, Bambi.” Luke let you go, giving you the lightest of shoves backwards. Then you were stranded. Forced to watch as your boyfriend skated backwards away from you, leaving you wide eyed and terrified as you froze on the ice. Your fear quickly turned to anger, and Luke marked the shift in your demeanor with a laugh.

“Luke Warren Hughes, you come back here and get me right now.”

“Nope. Come and get me, baby.” Luke winked at you as he skated past, only serving to further frustrate you. You’d never admit that his plan was working, but the anger was motivating. You let out a strangled groan before starting to shuffle forward, sliding your skates like Luke taught you. You were doing well for a while, slowly making your way towards where Luke was taunting you from the boards behind the net. That was until two kids flew past you, knocking you off balance and sending you scrambling to regain it.

“Luke! Luke, Luke, Luke,” you called, too focused on your slipping feet to notice if your boyfriend was coming to your aid. Then you lost balance completely, tumbling down towards the ice. You closed your eyes as you avoided flinging your arms out to catch yourself, still heeding Luke’s warnings even as he got you in this mess in the first place. You prepared yourself for the cold hard burn of your backside hitting the ice, but it never came. Instead you landed in a pair of unfamiliar arms, barely recognizing that you weren’t on the ground before being hauled to a standing position. You carefully turned around and were met with Jack’s smiling face.

“Knight in shining armor, at your service,” Jack grinned, adding a small salute for effect. You rolled your eyes, scanning the ice for Luke.

“How long have you been following behind me?”

“Ever since Luke pretended to leave you stranded. He planned the whole thing, I was behind you the entire time to save you from your inevitable demise,” Jack poked you, smile growing impossibly wider at the annoyed look gracing your face.

“Big words for someone who never went to college,” you shot at him, needing anything to level the playing field between you. It was then that Luke finally returned, skating to a smooth stop to your left.

“What’d I miss?”

“Your girlfriend was insulting my intelligence after I graciously saved her precious be-hind,” Jack spoke, adding a bit more than his usual sassiness into the bit. Luke turned to tsk at you.

“Now, now baby. We can’t make fun of people just because they’re less fortunate than us. It’s not Jacky’s fault he’s stupid,” Luke joked, loving the way your eyes lit up when you realized that he was joining your side. Jack, however, stood slack jawed across from you.

“Now what the hell, Luke? I went along with your little plan, and this is how you repay me?” You and Luke just blinked at him, silly little grins sitting on your face. “Go to hell, both of you,” Jack scoffed before skating off. Once he was gone, you turned towards your boyfriend. Your pout returned, but it was quickly kissed away.

“I promised you I’d never let you fall, baby. I just never said it’d be me who caught you.”

You scowled, “you’re such a smart ass.”

“Love you too, Princess,” Luke grinned. You begrudgingly allowed him to pull you into his chest, the warmth he radiated melting the glare right off your face.

You turned your head to press a kiss into his jacket-clad chest, right over his heart. A warm smile graced your lips, “I love you, Lukey.”

“Lukey!”

John Marino stood before him on the ice, stick poised to do the defensive drill coach had instructed them on.

“You’re out of it today, kid. Are we going to do this drill or not?”

“Yeah, my bad. Let’s go,” Luke nodded his head, once again trying to shake the thoughts of you from his mind. He had just barely cleared his vision before the puck was dropped, and John was racing towards him. Practice continued like that, Luke losing focus periodically until one of his teammates pulled him back into the moment.

When he trudged into the locker room an hour later, he was more than ready to go home. These were usually the days he would most appreciate having you to come home to. Leaving a hard practice and coming home to fall asleep in your arms was the best feeling. He tried not to think too much about the gaping hole that memory left in his chest as he untied his skates.

Once he was dressed in his sweats he rushed from the locker room, hoping to escape the arena before anyone could question his mental wellbeing. Luke made it to the car without any hounding from the guys or trainers, but he had to wait for what felt like an eternity before Jack finally made his way into the parking garage.

“What the hell took you so long?” Luke questioned, hopping into the passenger seat as Jack unlocked the car doors.

“Coach wanted to talk to me for a second. You could’ve gotten the keys from my bag, yknow.”

“Yeah, but then I would’ve been tempted to leave you here,” Luke smirked at his brother.

Jack only rolled his eyes, all too familiar with Luke’s teasing. His mind swirled with the reminders his coach had left him with after their brief post-practice discussion. Coach was getting extremely concerned about Luke and the lack of focus he displayed at practice and games. Jack was also concerned, and so was most of the team. He knew he should bring it up, but the joy in Luke’s eyes was so rare these days that Jack couldn’t bring himself to disturb it. He just wanted to support his brother the best he could, but Luke wouldn’t open up to him. Or anyone, for that matter. Not his mom, not Quinn, not even his old teammates from Michigan. Luke wouldn’t talk to anyone about you. So Jack took what Luke gave him. Watching late night hockey, Door Dashing dinner, or playing video games for hours on end. Anything to keep his brother occupied, and make him realize that he wasn’t alone.

Luke finally made his way into his room at 11 pm later that night, feeling relatively okay after eating dinner and watching a Canucks game with Jack. He had felt so unlike himself lately that any small reprieve from reality was a welcomed gift. He also knew that it helped Jack worry about him just a little bit less.

Luke had just turned out his bathroom light after brushing his teeth when his door creaked open, revealing Jack standing in the doorway. It wasn’t unusual for Jack to check on him before bed, but it had recently become more frequent.

“You good to leave for practice at 8 tomorrow?” Jack questioned.

Luke nodded, “Yeah, I’ll be up.”

“Better be. I’m not in the mood to drag your ass out of bed in the morning.”

Luke rolled his eyes, but the wary look on Jack’s face made him hold his tongue on the snarky response he was about to shoot back.

“Promise, I’ll be good to go at 8.”

Jack deemed that a good enough answer, and went to shut the door.

“Alright. Night, Luke.”

“Luke…” you shakily whispered on the phone. Your voice was wobbly and high pitched, the tears streaming down your face evident in your tone.

“Baby?” Luke spoke into the phone, “What’s wrong?”

It was an hour and a half until puck drop, and you should’ve been on your way to the stadium by now. Luke’s furrowed brows caught the attention of Jack in the next stall over, stopping his movements from where he was lacing up his skates.

“I was on my way to the arena, and I…” a broken sob escaped your mouth, startling Luke as he tried to fathom what could’ve possibly happened after he left the house.

“Someone hit me.”

Luke jumped to his feet, “What do you mean hit you? What happened?”

“I don’t know. Someone ran a red light or something and they hit my car. I think I spun into a pole,” your breath was growing ragged as you recited the wreck.

“Are you okay? Where are you? I’m coming to get you,” Luke rushed out as he began grabbing his clothes back out of his bag. Half the locker room was staring now, all with varying looks of concern.

“I don’t know what to do. I’m bleeding,” you squeaked. “Lukey, there’s so much blood.”

This sent Luke into a panic. He was stripping his gear as fast as humanly possible while simultaneously yelling at Jack to give him to car keys. Jack’s concerns fell on deaf ears as Luke undressed, and he finally decided that following Luke was the safest option.

“No. You’re okay, baby. I just need you to tell me where you are, okay? I’ll be there so soon, just tell me where,” Luke begged. He knew logically that the cops would arrive before he could, but he needed to be there with you.

“Don’t know. But my head hurts so bad,” you whimpered out. Luke tried to ignore the way he could hear your voice weakening as you spoke.

“Just stay on the phone with me, love. I’m on my way to come get you, yeah?”

Luke tried to reassure you as he shoved his feet into his shoes and rushed from the locker room. Jack was hot on his tail, car keys in hand.

“ ‘m sorry, Lu,” your whisper was barely heard by Luke as he sprinted down the hallways of Prudential Center.

“For what, love?”

“I wanted to be at your game tonight,” you mumbled.

“It’s fine, baby. There’ll be a million more games for you to come to, yeah?”

Luke attempted to comfort you as he searched for your location, plugging it into the GPS as Jack pulled out of the parking garage. Luke could only hope the pregame traffic wouldn’t get in the way.

“Mhmm. Lukey?”

“Yeah, baby?”

Your voice was barely a whisper, “I love you.”

Luke swore he could feel his heart shatter at the crack in your voice. There were tears streaming from his face as he pushed Jack to drive faster.

“I love you too, princess. So much. Jacky and I are going to be there so soon. I just need you to hang on for a few minutes. Can you do that for me?”

Luke’s voice was frantic and only grew more so when he heard your phone tumbling out of your hand.

“Baby? You’ve gotta stay awake, okay?” Luke pleaded, as tears streamed down his face. His hands shook where he held the phone to his ear.

“Baby? Please tell me you’re okay. I just need you to say something.”

Luke’s begging continued until the line went dead.

“Fuck,” Luke muttered, sobs beginning to wrack his body. Jack looked at him frantically as he continued to navigate the streets of New Jersey.

“Luke? What the hell happened?” Jack kept spitting questions, but he might as well have been talking to a brick wall. “Snap out of it, Luke.”

“Luke.”

Luke awoke to Jack shaking him violently, and he tasted the salty tears streaming down his face before he felt them. ‘No. Not again,’ Luke thought. He shot up in bed, sending Jack scrambling backwards to avoid knocking heads. Luke’s head whipped back and forth wildly as his eyes searched the room. ‘Please, please, please,’ he begged the universe. He ignored the way his brain reminded him of the truth, ignored his brother’s pitying look, ignored the cold bed beside him where you should’ve been. It was if the whole world was pointing and laughing at his grieving heart. ‘Look at this idiot,’ they all seemed to say, ‘He still thinks he can save her.’

“Fuck,” Luke exhaled, finally giving up his futile attempts at disproving what he knew was his reality.

Jack stared as his younger brother lost himself to grief once again. Watching as Luke’s hands disappeared into his curls, head bowed as sob after sob wracked his body. Jack felt helpless knowing he couldn’t take this pain from his little brother. All he could do was hold him and promise to be there through it all.

“I can’t keep doing this,” Luke whispered into Jack’s shoulder. “Every time I wake up, I lose her all over again, and I can’t do it anymore.”

Jack hesitates, unsure exactly what to say in this situation. You were always the one with the best advice, the one who could handle anything.

“We’re going to get you through this, okay? You’re not alone in fighting this,” Jack paused, contemplating how to suggest his next thought. “I know you think you’re fine, but I really think you need help Luke. She would want you to get help.”

Luke nodded, knowing his brother was right. You would hate to see him like this. Ever the caretaker, you had always been the first person to chastise him for not taking proper care of his mental health during hockey season. If you saw him like this, you’d pull him into your arms and then absolutely rip him a new one until he promised to take care of himself.

“I know,” Luke mumbled, “I’ll start seeing a therapist. I think I need to step away from hockey for a bit too. It’s not fair to the guys that my mental health is affecting the team performance.”

“I think that’s smart,” Jack agreed. “The guys might not understand what you’re going through, but they know it’s not your fault Luke. They want you to get better too.”

Luke could only nod, trying to accept Jack’s words as the truth and fight the part of his brain that was saying this was all his fault. Luke was so tired, but he wasn’t willing to go back to sleep when he knew memories of you was what awaited him.

“I’ll call the trainers tomorrow. I don’t really want to go back to sleep, can we watch a movie or something?”

“Of course,” Jack agreed, despite the exhaustion weighing him down. “I’ll even let you pick.”

A slow, knowing grin spread across Luke’s features, “Even Secretariat?”

Jack’s sigh could be heard all the way in New York, but he smiled nonetheless. Just happy to see that Luke was making small steps towards returning to himself.

“Even Secretariat.”

So that’s how Luke and Jack spent their evening, watching movies and eating obscene amounts of popcorn. Luke had smiled to himself for most of the night, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders. He knew the process would be slow and that he might never truly get back to ‘normal’. But admitting his pain and asking for help, that was enough for now.

#jay writes #luke hughes #nj devils #hockey

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starcrossedreaders · 1 year ago

Note

HELLO! I noticed that your requests are open AAAAH! BUT before i will tell you mine i need a silent minute to appreciate your work. ......

THANK YOU VERY MUCH FOR YOUR WRITING STYLE, YOUR CREATIVITY, YOUR MIND, YOUR BODY, YOUR FAMILY, YOUR MOM, YOUR DAD AND OF COURSE FOR YOU!!!! because your writing style?! Im always kicking my feet how you picture Leon skdjdkdnrekekddjfj. So umm yeeah my request, if you will so kindly agree with writing it down, your majesty. KABEDON!🧎‍♀️ Yeah you saw right KA-BE-DON. I, because i love, once again your writing style, let your fantasy bring out the best of you! Love you and now i will, finally take my leave. (I dont want to pressure you so, if i can, feel free to ignore this! And sorry if there was some kind of a mistake! English is not my first language tee hee) SENDING LOVE 🦫

Author's Note: KABEDON!!! Whenever I think of Leon and kabedon I can only picture a cocky RE2 STEP BRO LEON. So that's what I just wrote :) and Im not sorry. ENJOY!

Warnings: StepBro!Leon, stepcest Fem implied reader. Oral male receiving, sloppy toppy, cursing, uses of names like whore and slut Leon being a meanie weenie :(

Summer was always a dreadful time for you. Divorced parents were nothing to take lightly, especially when your mom packed her bags and moved across the country. In that short period of time, she found a wonderful husband who just also happens to have a son your age. Leon, the biggest asshole you have ever met in your lifetime.

These first few weeks have been awful, the teasing and bullying were getting on your nerves. Today was going to be no different. Your mom and Leon's dad went off to work in the early hours of the day, leaving you two alone once again.

Rolling over in your bed you could hear Leon's loud music playing in the garage. Looking at the time on your phone you groaned. 8:30 in the morning and he's already working on that damn Jeep. Whoever told him that building a Jeep was a great idea is stupid.

Rolling out of bed you lazily put on some shorts. Swinging your door open the cool A/C greeted you. Basking in the cool air you took your time to walk to the connected garage.

When you opened the door loud music spilled into the quiet house. Scanning the garage you were met with Leon's back contorting with each movement. The garage door was open and his Jeep was parked half-way into the garage. Leon was ducked under the hood as he worked on something. His t-shirt was tucked into his jean pocket. His other pocket had an assortment of tools. You watched as a bead of sweat ran down his neck onto his back, entranced by his tan skin and muscled back.

Cringing at the thoughts that ran through your head you walked down the few steps and stormed over to his speaker and slammed down on it, abruptly stopping the music.

"Good morning to you too," Leon wasn't phased one bit. This wasn't the first time you've done this to him these past weeks.

"Seriously Leon, you're going to wake up the whole fucking neighborhood." You watched as Leon worked on the engine hands on your hips.

He twisted his arm to tighten a bolt before he carefully ducked out from under the hood. Grabbing a work rag he turned around and leaned on the car. Leon gave you a look of annoyance but you were too busy admiring his arms.

As he wiped the grease off of his hands his forearms would twist causing his veins to reveal themselves. Trailing your eyes up you tracked his defined collarbone and dragged your eyes down to his chest. His v-line hid behind his boxers. His jeans hung off his hips showing the elastic of boxers. Sweat dripped down his chest down to his grease-covered stomach. He had noticeable abs that moved as he pushed himself off of the car.

Leon watched as you practically undressed him with your eyes. The smirk that adorned his face was almost cocky if it weren't for his boyish features that still remained. To enamored by your thoughts you didn't notice Leon push off of his Jeep and stalk over to you.

Before you could chastise Leon again your back hit the wall as a soft don rang to the left side of your head. Leon's musk scent wafted to your nose as his body heat radiated into you. Your nose bumped into his chest as you looked up at him. Leon was already looking down at you with that stupid smirk on his face.

"Y'know it's not nice to stare, especially at your own brother." His voice was deep and husky. His hot breath fanned over your face.

Scoffing you crossed your arms and rolled your eyes. "You're disgusting, besides it's not like you're my actual brother."

Leon clicked his tongue. "I wasn't the one staring sweetheart." The name made your stomach twist and thigh squeeze together.

"Whatever, just keep the music down." You tried to duck under Leon's arm to leave this awful situation.

Before you could make your escape Leon's hand wrapped around your hair and shoved you to your knees. The hard cement bit into your knees as you slammed to the floor. Leon's hand held the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. He angled your head so you looked up at him. His other hand came down and cupped your cheek. His thumb swiped over your bottom lip before he pushed it into your mouth.

"God, you look so good on your knees little sis." A groan lay dormant in the back of his throat.

Your eyes scanned over his body trying to avoid his icy blue stare. Trailing down to his groin you were met with his member tight in his jeans. Your eyes widened at the sight.

"See what you do to your brother. Walking around in those skimpy shorts. You're practically begging to get bent over and fucked." His lewd words made your pussy clench around nothing as the hot arousal made your head heavy and full of want and need.

Pulling his thumb out of your mouth his hand went up to his jeans and unzipped them. He pumped his dick a few times before he pulled the raging cock out of its confinements. It sprang out, tip red and oozing pre-cum. The sight made your mouth water, but everything about this was wrong. So so wrong but in that moment any and all reason went out of the door.

Grabbing your jaw he pried your mouth open with ease. "Stick it out," His voice was dark and filled with command. Your nipples harden against your shirt as Leon's uncut cock neared your mouth.

Listening to him you stuck your tongue out and looked up at him, eyes glossed over. The sight made him twitch.

“What a good girl you are, helping your big bro out.” He tapped his tip on your tongue twice.

Strands of salty pre-cum stick to your tongue before Leon slowly slid his dick in your mouth. It was huge, to say the least. He stretched your jaw wide open leaving it to soon ache. For Leon though, your mouth was heaven to him.

Your tongue wrapped around his dick closing your mouth around him as the tip hit the back of your throat. Gagging tears brimmed your eyes before Leon quickly pulled out of your mouth.

Hissing Leon’s deep voice rattled through you. “Fuck you’re such a fucking slut. Now suck it.” He tapped his dick on your mouth once before he put both hands on the wall above you for stability.

Doing as told you gripped his cock. He was so thick, the thought of him being inside of you sent stars to your vision and slick between your legs. Bring his dick towards your mouth you kiss the tip. This simple action had Leon groaning and throwing his head back.

“Fuck don’t be a tease.” Rolling your eyes you left small kitten licks along him.

You wish his pants were down, you wanted no, needed to taste his balls. Moaning you sucked his tip in your mouth. Your moans vibrated up to his balls, Leon let out a shaky breath curling one of his hands into a fist. He was just so big in your mouth. Your jaw ached as your clit pulsed with need.

“G-god, your mouth.” His words were shaky. He rolled his hips pushing his cock further in your mouth.

You move your hands on his thighs for support as you take him deeper. In one go Leon grabbed the back of your head making a makeshift ponytail as he shoved the rest of his dick in your mouth. He moaned at the overwhelming feeling as you gagged. His tip kissed the back of your throat, gagging you. Your nose was met with his curls at the base of his cock.

“Look at you, taking my big cock so well.” He watched as you coughed. Pulling your head back he watched as his pre-cum and drool fell dripping down your chin.

Pulling you off of him he gave you a moment to breathe before he was shoving himself right back into your mouth. His tip teased the back of your sore throat once more. Salty tears ran down your cheeks as your hole turned syrupy. You grinded down on nothing with need.

“Goddamn. Look how pretty you look, letting me throat fuck you like the whore you are.” Leon’s hungry eyes pierced into you.

“Didn’t know my sister was such a slut.” His words had you squeezing your eyes shut the further he fucked down into your throat.

“M’gonna cum.” Your muffled moans clouded Leon’s vision.

“Yea? I’m gonna paint your pretty little throat and you’re going To .Take. Every. Ounce.” WIth each word he slammed his tip in the back of your throat.

“Fuckfuckfuckkk.” With one last thrust his cock was throbbing as white cum spurted out painting the back of your throat as promised.

He slowly slid his sensitive cock out of your mouth leaving a trail of salty cum in his wake. When he pulled it out his dick went limp as his blue eyes went soft. Cupping your cheek he wiped your tears away as your cringed, swallowing his seed.

“Such a good girl.” Wiping your mouth Leon helped you up and even handed you a bottle of water.

The cold water soothed your sore throat, turning towards Leon you pointed. "What happened just now stays between us. Our parents can't know." Your voice was stern and laced with a plea.

Leon only scoffed before he smirked. "What? It's not like I'm your actual brother." His mocking tone pushed each one of your buttons.

"Besides I'm sure the neighbors heard you choking on my big fat co-" You were quick to cut Leon off.

"Stop!" You groaned in embarrassment and stormed off to the few steps leading into the house Leon hot on your heels. Before you could twist the door knob he grabbed your arm.

"Hey," His voice was soft as you turned to look at him.

"I promise this stays between us, no one will know not even Chris." You scanned his face body sagging before you said. "Thank you."

Smiling he took one step up to you. Cupping your face in between his hands his blue eyes scanned over your features before he leaned in a pressed a soft and sweet kiss to your lips.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

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