#hey it's been a hot minute since i filled a request and i was i n s p i r e d

[dumpywrites]

Wanna See My Cat? - Min Yoongi / Suga

Prompt: “Do you wanna see my cat?” You're not actually lying but he thinks it's a sexual innuendo.

Prompt request: HERE

Genre/tags: Fluff, situationship-ish

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

a/n: I was contemplating on whether to actually add smut to this but I decided not to cause it's cuter this way and I think we could all agree there're plenty of bts smut but not enough fluff here! :D

Situationship was a funny concept. Either you commit or not, that was what you believed. Which was why you were not precisely proud to say that you was now in fact in one. 

In your defense it had only been what, three? Four weeks? A month or so? Min Yoongi was this nice guy your acquaintance introduced you to. Gentle, could be hilarious when he wanted to, and cute. Although he could be a little emotionless at times, mostly he was a really sweet guy and you liked him a lot. In your other defense, you did not believe what you had with him could be called as a situationship. It was just what your friends had been teasing you about. 

In the whole time of knowing him, you had been to total of three dates. The first being a casual “are you free for dinner after work?” kinda date, second a movie date, and third being a very chill cafe date. And in your opinion, you enjoyed all of them, you had the greatest of time chatting and spending quality time with him. But your friend kept teasing you otherwise. 

Apparently your dates were considered too boring, too innocent for today’s dating world standard. You had not even had your first kiss yet and one of your friends was already asking about his size. Evidently, wanting to take things slow was a crime nowadays and you were lowkey getting annoyed. 

Today though, your park date was cancelled due to the rain. You kept cursing to yourself at home when you saw Yoongi’s text telling you to do a literal rain check, seeing the thunderstorm. The outfit that you bought especially for the occasion failed to see the outside world. 

As you stood in front of the mirror, seeing the reflection gave you a weird idea. A small Siamese cat walking past your feet, meowing adorably. Your pet cat, Zuko. A cat whose existence wasn’t known by Yoongi yet. The lightbulb above your head lightened up. 

“Do you wanna see my cat?” You sent the text. 

**

Yoongi texted you to let you know that he had arrived at your place. You recalled last time he picked you up it took him around fifteen minutes but this time he only took ten. You wondered what made him arrive a lot quicker. 

You were giddy with excitement and took a screenshot to tell your friend. Instead of being excited and giddy for you, your friend sent a bunch of side-eye emojis. Well, they could be just teasing you but the chat bubble following afterwards had you wondering. 

“Woo! Give me a rating score later!!!” 

You crooked your head in confusion, but there was no time to ponder on your friend’s riddle when Yoongi was already waiting for you to open the front door. 

“Hey.”

That hey definitely did not have to sound that deep and hot. You had to gulped your saliva down upon seeing him in his comfortable clothes. Since when did wearing sweatpants and baggy t-shirt looked so good? And did he just had his hair cut or was it just you? So many questions pilling up in your head. 

You knew it was game over when he went in for a hug. Heavenly was the only words you could use to describe his smell. It was a mixture of his shampoo and his laundry detergent, and his intoxicating smell. It seemed like he didn’t even use any perfume. 

“What should we eat?” You said while smiling giddily. 

“I’m kinda craving some instant ramen?” He looked at you while lifting a shopping bag filled with a few packets of noodles. 

Your eyes beamed. “That sounds really nice actually with the weather and all.” 

“Alright cool.” He nodded. “Let’s cook?”

Yoongi was being extra touchy. You were boiling the water and he would swiftly grab the chopsticks in front of you from behind, making you feel his chest. You fully knew well that he could easily grab the utensils without doing that, but for some reason the demons were working hard at the moment. He even leaned his chin over your shoulder as you were chopping some sausages. At this point he could be doing it on purpose for all you knew. 

He did not stop when you both started to eat. From the smooth wiping your lips from food to feeding you. Who was this person and what had he done to Yoongi you might never know. 

Right after washing the dishes and escaping a few of Yoongi’s teases, you both chilled on the sofa. As you browsed through Netflix, you could sense him scooting closer to you. You could feel his body warmth that automatically made yours grew hotter as well. 

“What are we watching?” He asked with a husky voice. By this point he was hugging your waist and rested his body weight on you. 

“I was thinking some action? You love those right?”

“I do.” 

You paused. Why was the tone of his voice sounded slightly off and why was he looking at you funnily?

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

He broke into a small smile. “Nothing.”

“Stop or I’ll make you watch Puss in Boots!” You whined. 

And then it hit you. The cat! You were too busy being swayed, head in the clouds, fantasizing, that you forgot why he was initially visiting you in your apartment.

“My cat!” You exclaimed loudly, which made Yoongi jumped and sat back up from his position. 

You missed the look of confusion in Yoongi’s face as you ran quickly to your room to pick up the furball in your bedroom. 

“I can’t believe I forgot about him!” You chuckled with your pet now in your arms. “He doesn’t like roaming around, he mostly sleeps in my room.”

Yoongi just looked at you, quizzically. As if he could not believe his eyes. 

“Meet Zuko!” You smiled, proudly showing your cat. “Zuko, meet Yoongi.” You giggled and shoved the cat to the man’s hands. 

He stared at the cat blankly for a good few seconds before gently petting the creature’s head. 

“Uh, hi.” He said, sounding lightly awkward. “He’s actually really cute.”

“I know right!” You grinned. “Do you wanna hold him?”

“Sure.” He said, sounding a little unsure. 

The man sat down with your cat on his lap, slowly stroking the soft white fur of its tiny body. You bent down, sat on the carpet on his knee level to pet the cat. Somehow seeing you smile lovingly at the cat made Yoongi’s lips curled into a soft smile as well. 

“You’re adorable.” Yoongi said. 

“He’s the cutest cat, I know.”

“No, I mean you.” 

“Oh.” You shyly looked away, hoping the nervous giggles did not give it away. “Thank you.” 

Yoongi chuckled and huffed a sigh. “I can’t believe there’s actually a cat.”

“Huh?” You crooked your head to the side, wondering what the guy meant by that. “Of course there is? What do you mean?”

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He laughed. “You don’t know?”

“Uh, no?” 

He ruffled your hair and laughed again, this time a little bit louder than before. You were still stunned, too confused to process when he quickly pulled you in and kissed your forehead. Suddenly you did not want to protest about how messy he just made your hair. 

“It’s alright, maybe next time.” 

You covered your face with both of your palms.  “What’s with you today?!” You said with your hands still covering your face. 

“I like you.” He shrugged. “Might not be the most animated guy out there so I’m just letting you know.”

“Yeah, which is why I’m so confused with you today???” You said with flushed face. “Oh my god, that’s not the point though! I like you too!”

He chuckled. “Let’s just get back to the movie?”

The vibe after that conversation calmed down. Maybe it was the whole letting-the-cat-out-of-the-bag thing on your feelings making the air less thick. You ended up just cuddling, snuggling to each other while watching The Notebook. You both hated romance movies, but somehow finished the entire movie anyway after you misclicked it in the first place. It was nice and warm being in Yoongi’s arms and you were afraid you wouldn’t want to ever let go. 

And it was finally time for him to go home. Crazy how you did not notice the time went by so fast. Heck, you didn’t even notice the screen was already playing another movie. How could you when Yoongi was caressing your hair ever so gently? Goodness gracious. 

“Hey, I have to go now. Meeting in an hour, remember?” He tapped your shoulder. 

“I’m not letting you go.” You whined, hugging him tighter. 

He laughed. “Silly, I can come again tomorrow.”

You sat back up and looked at him. “Really???”

“I mean yeah, you don’t have work on Sunday, right?” He smiled. “If you want to, that is.”

“I want to.” You giggled. 

He flashed his gummy smile one more time before getting up from your couch. You walked with him to the door and waited for him to grab his jacket. The whole time you were stalling, asking him the most random questions, and made the silliest remarks. You just didn’t want him to go home yet, especially after finding out that he liked you too. 

“As much as I’d love to talk more about how much I disliked the whole education system, I really have to go now.” He chuckled. 

“Okay.” You pouted. You watch as he got up from tying his shoelaces. 

He huffed a sigh and smiled. “Come closer.”

You did as told without thinking and in a quick seconds, somehow you were pulled into a soft kiss. It was a soft peck and you could feel his smile through it. He didn’t gave you a chance to react as he swiftly let go. 

“See you tomorrow?” 

“Come on…” You whined again and covered your face in awkwardness, and he could only laugh at you. “Go! Before I lock you up!”

“I’ll text you.” He waved and you finally closed your door. 

You found yourself giggling and smiling to yourself like an idiot. This was new. Whatever in the fresh hell was that, you couldn’t lie to yourself that you were into this somewhat bold and flirty side of him. 

You casually walked back to your couch and switched the tv to youtube. As you let random science podcast video play, you decided to check your phone, realizing you had not text your friend back yet. 

“What do you mean by giving a score?”

Your friend replied almost too immediately. You were shocked to see the usage of caps lock. 

“YOU DIDN’T KNOW??????!!!!! WTF???”

“Okay, explain?????”

“Poor Yoongi has to deal with your dumbass 😔” 

“Shut up 🖕🖕🖕”

“It’s a code. You say that instead of asking to come over and have sex. Basically the new netflix and chill.”

“… okay. OKAY???!!!!!!”

“Bestie, did something happen though??? 😍”

“SO THAT’S WHY HE TOLD ME HE WAS SURPRISED THAT THERE WAS ACTUALLY A CAT???? OMFGGGGGG!!!!!! ASFDKSPSKSG 😭😭😭”

You put down your phone to muffle your tiny scream with your knuckles. You recalled him mentioning a next time. Then you also recalled him wanting to come over again tomorrow. Needless to say, it was finally time to let out that one cute underwear you had been keeping in your drawer for months.

Thank you for reading! 🐈‍⬛💕

[macfrog]

shameless cowboy like me chapter two

what if i told you...joel's a flirty menace in this one? 😈 this is part ii of my new dbf!joel series - you can find part i here 🫶🏼 enjoy babes

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: an innocent slip of the tongue leads to some very interesting preparations for the neighborhood barbecue

warnings: 18+ minors dni!!! female masturbation, fingering, praise kink and daddy kink (blink and you'll miss it), age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), mention of alcohol, bit of cursing. all very hot hot hot

word count: 4k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

“Feel good?” Joel’s voice is calm, cool. It’s not at all like he’s just caught you fucking yourself to the thought of him. Your eyes shoot open and hands scramble to push your dress back down, yanking the bedsheets over yourself. He’s standing against your doorframe with his arms folded. “Don’t cut it short on my account, baby,” he purrs, stepping inside your room and closing the door gently behind him. “You take all the time you need.”

You stagger out to the driveway, heaving the bucket full to the brim, rocking side to side with every step you take. Warm water and suds spill over and soak your fingers as you battle with the weight down toward your dad’s car, parked out on the street.

“Aw, what’d I just tell you?” he yells over the hose, cutting the water and letting the nozzle drop as he jogs over to give you a hand. “Don’t fill it all the way!”

You let go of the bucket with a heaving breath, squatting with your palms on your knees. “You told me – gasp – you needed enough – gasp – to do both our cars,” you pant, “there’s – enough.”

“Go on inside and get a glass of water ‘fore you keel over, dumbass,” he says, subsiding a laugh as he turns the hose back on. “And bring out sponges when you come back!”

After a few more deep breaths, you stumble on back up the drive and into the cool house, where you pour a glass of cold water. You’re standing by the window watching your dad soak his SUV when a familiar truck pulls up behind it, gas tank in the bed.

Your cheeks heat just at the sight of him getting out, long legs striding over to meet your dad. It’s been a few days since you last saw him, since he had dinner with you guys. Since he ignited a fire inside you that you’ve done nothing to extinguish.

They exchange a few words, your dad gestures to the bucket at his feet and then gives what you presume is a retelling of your debacle in the drive. Joel’s head falls back in laughter, and you’re not sure whether your heart jumps from embarrassment or something more.

He’s in a washed black tee and jeans. Simple, typical Joel. His toned arms are folded on his chest, shoulders a little hunched as he listens to whatever your dad is probably boring him with.

You check yourself in the mirror, tucking and then untucking your hair behind your ear, and tug the skirt of your yellow dress a little lower.

Lower? What are you doing?

You turn and check yourself out, pulling it up little by little, imagining what Joel might think when he sees you. Where his eyes might fall, the way his breath might catch…

Your dad’s voice calling your name snaps you back to reality. You sigh and give yourself a final once over – adjusting your bra under your dress – and turn on your heel back to the garage door, emerging from the shadows to the red-hot sunshine once again, this time a little more collected.

Joel’s eyes find you the minute the sun does. Still nodding and muttering back to your dad, he tracks you as you stroll down the drive and to your dad’s side.

“Hey,” you chirp.

“Hey, yourself.” Just out of your dad’s view, he eyes you up and down, settling just south of your neck. You feel your stomach fluttering.

Your dad lifts his arms and props them against his hips, glaring at you.

“What?”

“Sponges?”

“Oh…” Fuck. “I…There ain’t no sponges in there.” If you weren’t so busy goggling at Joel and hiking your skirt up, you’d have remembered his request.

Your dad screws his face up. “I have sponges, sweetheart. In one of the boxes on the shelf–”

“I didn’t find any.”

He sighs, frustrated. “The hell’d my sponges go?” he asks, turning to Joel and shaking his head in disbelief.

Joel still hasn’t taken his eyes off you. Like he can read your mind, he raises a finger and turns to your dad. “You gave a couple to me, remember? When I had to wash my truck. Few weeks ago, now. Must’a never gave you them back. My bad.”

“You got my sponges?”

“Truck was pretty dirty. Probably threw ‘em out.”

You tut. “Unacceptable. You call this a best friend?” Joel narrows his eyes and mimics you, and you grin back.

Your dad grumbles. “I’ll let you off this time, Miller, seein’ as you brought that tank a’ gas. But how the hell am I meant to wash two cars with a bucket of soap and no sponges?”

“You don’t need to wash them in the first place,” you mumble, looking down to your feet, rubber toe of your sneaker kicking at the road.

“How many times– I am not havin’ half the neighborhood over with two dirty cars in the drive!”

“Alright!” you hiss back, eyes wide. “Look, I’ll run to the store and grab some. We need drinks, anyways.”

“Good idea. And we need some burgers.”

“B– You don’t have burgers?”

“Or steaks. Get a few steaks, too.”

“Dad! The barbecue is in two hours!”

He bends down to pick the hose back up, smile painted on his face. “Better get goin’, then, huh?”

You throw your head back with frustration, marching off to the house to grab your purse. Your dad chuckles behind you, angering you all the more.

When you come back downstairs, Joel’s standing in the hallway waiting, flannel shirt tucked under his arm.

“I’ll come,” he says, “extra set of hands. Plus, you can show me this new ride of yours.”

Thank you, you mouth as you pass him. He places a gentle hand on your shoulder and follows you out the door.

“Steaks, burgers, sponges, soda. Anything else?”

“Crate of beer,” your dad calls over the water spraying over his car.

Joel gives him a thumbs up as the two of you pass by, other hand still locked on your shoulder blade.

When the two of you settle in your car, Joel turns to you, pulling his seatbelt on. “I could see the sponges from where I was standin’.”

“I didn’t even look,” you mutter back, switching the ignition on.

“Just after an excuse for a half hour alone with me, were ya?”

You lean your head in his direction. “Sounds to me like it’s the other way around. You offered to come with me, remember?”

He responds with a look that you read as Touché, and the car pulls off.

----------

The store is freezing thanks to the aircon, and, after ten minutes of wandering up and down the meat aisle, you’re shivering with goosepimples along your arms. Finally, Joel comes back with a few bottles of soda.

“Cold?” he asks, placing them in the cart beside a three-pack of sponges.

“AC.”

“Here.” He pulls his flannel off and drapes it over your shoulders. You smile in thanks.

“I don’t know what meat to get,” you groan, pushing your arms into the sleeves of Joel’s shirt. It’s warm, and smells like him. When he turns to look inside the freezers, you bury your nose in your shoulder and breathe him in.

“These’ll do,” he eventually says, lifting a few packs of frozen burgers and a couple steaks. “Your dad ain’t the most prepared guy I ever knew.”

“Tell me about it.”

Joel takes the cart, pushing it along while you meander by his side, casually looking around the store. After throwing a few packs of candy in, along with a pack of headphones – “My old ones broke,” you protest, in response to Joel’s perplexed glance – you make your way toward the checkout.

“Shoot, forgot the beer. Go grab a case for your dad, would ya?”

You breathe a sigh. “Can’t you?”

“C’mon, kid, I ain’t askin’ twice.”

You hold his stare for a few seconds, a standoff in the idle store. He doesn’t flinch. You try not to, but his gaze is strong, his jaw tight, and your stomach is doing flips. You roll your eyes and make to turn.

“Good girl.”

Fuckin’ asshole.

You keep your back to him, continue walking with your fists balled tight either side of your hips. You know that Joel knows the effect he has on you, and you know he’s got his eyes on you as you round the corner of the aisle, smirk across his lips, but you at least try to hold on to what little pride you have left.

You meet Joel back at the checkout, standing in line. He acknowledges you with a quick nod, eyes settling on the case in your right hand.

“Coors?”

“Uhuh.”

“No Bud?”

“Dad doesn’t drink Bud. Dad drinks Coors.”

He shakes his head, blank expression. “No, he doesn’t. He drinks Bud.”

You start to feel your face warming. “You think I don’t know what beer my dad drinks?”

“You think I don’t know what beer my friend drinks? Go get a crate of Bud.”

“You fuckin’ go,” you hiss, just as the cashier calls you two over.

“Hi, darlin’s!” she sings as you approach the checkout. Her cheeks swell with her sickly-sweet smile, eyes flitting from one of you to the other. “Got everything you’re after today?”

“Close enough,” Joel replies, perfectly friendly to her, but with a sideways glance to you that makes your chest tighten.

“That’ll be $53.94. Cash or card?”

“I’ll get it,” you say, hand burying into your purse for cash.

Joel pulls his wallet from his back pocket. “I got it,” he says, stepping in front of you to the card reader.

The cashier giggles, looking between the two of you. She scrunches her nose up with a sweet smile, looks back at you, and says, “You let Daddy pay, sweetie.”

You both react at the same time; Joel coughs as if choking on his own tongue, bringing his forearm up to cover his mouth, and you shake your head with a quick gasp, instantly telling her, “No, no, he’s not my dad, he’s a friend– my dad’s f– he’s my dad’s friend. Not my dadd– not–”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” she giggles again, totally unaware of what she’s done to the pair of you. “My mistake. Here, sir, your receipt.” She hands it to Joel, who thanks her with a strained smile on his lips, hoists the crate under his arm and makes off with the bag.

You wave as you take off in his wake, trying to keep up with his long strides.

“Joel, wait up. What’s the rush, I–”

He throws the beer and bag into the backseat as you climb in the driver’s side, and slams his door closed with a bang.

You watch him for a moment as his head falls back onto the headrest, exhaling slowly.

“Everything al–?”

“Everything’s fine,” he cuts across you sharply, then hears it, and opens his eyes, looking over to you affectionately. “Everything’s fine,” he says again, calmer, quieter. His eyes scan over the sight of you in his shirt.

He shuffles in his seat and your gaze trails down to where he pulls the bottom of his tee over the crotch of his jeans. When he speaks, your eyes snap back up to his face.

“‘Let Daddy pay’? What the hell was that?” he scoffs as casually as he can muster, not noticing you, instead looking out the front window to the parking lot.

You laugh a little, leaning into your seat to look at him softly. “She was just tryna get me some free stuff, I think. She was nice.”

Joel breathes out a laugh. “Here I was thinkin’ you’d paid her to say it.”

“If I wanted to getcha all flustered, I bet I could do it myself. Don’t need nobody to help me.” You give him a toothy grin, and he returns it, placing a hand on your knee and shaking it.

“Let’s go. Your dad will be demented waitin’ on these sponges.”

----------

“Coors?” your dad asks, tilting the case in his hand.

“Sure,” you reply, spirit dying already.

“They run out of Bud?” he screws his face up in confusion.

Your eyes run from his along to Joel’s shoulder, and up to his face, which sits in a look of smug bemusement.

“Hm,” Joel cocks his head, “that’s weird.”

“They were all out,” you mutter tonelessly, turning on your heel back into the kitchen. You grab a cup and fill it with soda.

“Aw, poor baby,” Joel’s voice coos from behind you. You turn to find him leaning against the kitchen island. “Did you get Daddy the wrong beer?”

You place the glass down on the counter with a sharp thump and rub your eyes. What little energy you have left in you, you decide to use it to tease him straight back.

“I dunno. Do you like Coors, Daddy?” you mewl, floating over to him and leaning into his chest.

“Alright, enough,” he grumbles, pushing you off of him with a laugh you’re sure had an echo of nervousness in it. You link your fingers in his hand and he draws you back in to stop you from falling back dramatically.

“I’m fuckin’ exhausted.”

Truth be told, the last thing you want to be doing is hosting a neighborhood cookout. What with the dry heat now that the rain has passed, and the headache brewing behind your eyes, all you want to do is lie down in a quiet, dark room, and doze in and out of sleep.

“Why don’t you go for a lie down before everyone comes over?” Joel pats your head. “Me and your dad can finish up the cars, get the barbecue goin’. I’ll come wake you once the party’s started.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.” You take your soda and make for the stairs, only realizing at the first step that you’re still in Joel’s shirt. “Oh,” you pull it off one shoulder, “here.”

He holds a hand out to reassure you. “Keep it. You suit it.”

Then he pauses. Takes a breath. Turns it over in his head once or twice before he commits to saying it.

“Keep you thinkin’ of me while you sleep, or…whatever you’re headed up there to do, baby.”

He makes for the garage door without another word, without even glancing back to see your speechless expression.

Doesn’t matter. You know he knows the knot he’s just tied in your stomach.

You drag yourself up the stairs to you room, pull the curtains closed and lay back on your bed, kicking your shoes off. You can smell him all over you. You were sleepy, now you’re wide awake. You lie staring at the ceiling for who knows how long; furious, tired, pining.

Through the open window you can hear Joel making casual conversation with your dad as if he hasn’t just turned you the fuck on and left you to deal with it yourself.

You shake your head. You’re mad at him, but when you think it over, the anger turns into pent-up frustration, adding to the pile that’s been slowly growing harder and harder to bear since that night he drove you home.

The way he looked down at you. What was behind his eyes? Dark, brooding. The way he gripped your jaw, forcing you to look up at him.

Your stomach tightens with excitement, eyes fluttering closed to hear his chuckle, his cool voice as he talks about last week’s baseball game. Your legs seem to fall open on their own, your hips lifting as your hand trails down to meet the lace of your underwear.

Then him calling you trouble. Trouble. Knowing exactly what he really meant, and knowing you knew, too.

Your finger hooks around them and pulls back, other hand lifting your dress to expose yourself to the warm breeze passing through your window. You cup yourself, feeling how wet just the thought of him has you.

The way he looked at you earlier as you walked over. Offering to come to the store with you. Good girl. Let Daddy pay. Good girl.

Your fingers toy with your clit, eliciting a quiet moan from the depths of your throat. You push down, around, adding pressure, taking it away again.

Thinkin’ of me while you do it. Good girl. Nothin’ but trouble.

Your free hand pulls the top of your dress down, cupping around your breast. You lick your fingers and roll your already hard nipple between them, picturing Joel’s lips around it, sucking, licking, kissing…

Let Daddy…Good girl.

“Joel…” you whimper, as you insert a finger inside yourself. It’s the release you’ve been after since that first glance, the first comment that set your stomach ablaze.

You picture his hand in place of yours, rocking back and forth, curling just the way you like, big fingers stretching you out and feeling your walls clamp around him.

You’re a whimpering, whining mess. Covered in your own slick, chasing your high, clit rutting against the palm of your hand.

Feeling a need for more pressure, you bring your other hand down and begin mercilessly rubbing at your clit while your hand pumps in and out, in and out.

You’re close. You have to bury your face in the shoulder of his shirt to stop from screaming. It only drives you crazier. The smell of him, the way his name sounds escaping your lips in breathy moans, the thought of his weight on top of yours, making you feel so good, making you cum over and over…

“Feel good?”

Joel’s voice is calm, cool. It’s not at all like he’s just caught you fucking yourself to the thought of him.

Your eyes shoot open and hands scramble to push your dress back down, yanking the bedsheets over yourself. He’s standing against your doorframe with his arms folded.

“Don’t cut it short on my account, baby,” he purrs, stepping inside your room and closing the door gently behind him. “You take all the time you need.”

“Didn’t hear you come in,” you whisper.

He settles back on your dresser, looking over at you with a barely noticeable smirk across his lips.

“Barbecue’s heatin’ up.”

“Thanks for letting me know.” You’re still in a daze, part-embarrassed, part-confused. Joel’s acting so casual that you’re not even entirely sure this is happening right now.

“What were you thinkin’ about?” He cocks his head.

Your eyes screw shut. You swing your legs off the side of your bed and lean forward, your back to him.

“You can tell me if it was me.”

“Wasn’t you, Joel.”

“You know a lot of Joels? You rubbin’ that pretty little pussy to all your other Joel friends?”

Your head finally clears when he starts teasing you. That humming energy picks up again. He’s riling you, maybe not for the same reason as before, but he’s doing it.

You stand from your bed and turn to face him.

“Was thinking…was thinking about being a good girl for you. Letting you put your hands on me.”

You start stepping forward. Your voice drops to a whisper.

“Was thinking about you making me cum while everyone’s here, and we gotta be quiet, and you’re all over me…”

Joel’s eyes darken. He straightens up.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You reach him, and place both hands on his chest. Did you just feel his heart skip beneath his shirt?

Downstairs the doorbell rings, and you both suddenly hear your next-door neighbor’s voice rattle through the house, remarking how nice the kitchen is, and where can she put this salad?

Joel’s head turns ever so slightly to the door, eyes still locked on yours.

“Party’s started,” he murmurs.

You nod slowly. You’re feeling unusually bold – but this fucker just cut in right ahead of your orgasm, and you want him to pay it back.

You tell him in low voice, “Better hurry up.”

He pushes off the dresser, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you backwards. Your eyes never leave his as you stumble across your hardwood floor and the back of your knees hit your bed. Joel pushes you down, shoving your thighs open with one knee, and bends over you.

“This what you want?” he slurs, drunk on the heat radiating off of you and the sight of you in his shirt. “You want your daddy’s best friend all over you?”

“Uhuh,” you moan when he hauls your arms above your head.

Without a word, he hauls your dress up and drags a finger around your underwear, pulling them to the side. You throw your head back, bracing for the moment his hands touch you where you need him most. You could fold right now just at the thought of it.

Joel makes no move for a few seconds, and when you glance back down, he’s hovering, drinking in the sight of you. You smile.

“Aw, baby,” he breathes, noticing you watching him. Then he dips his head and his lips crash against yours roughly, like he might’ve died if he hadn’t kissed you there and then.

Your arms come down and wrap over his shoulders, fingers tangling in his hair. You feel his weight over you as he kisses you deeper, and then starts rubbing your swollen clit. You moan into his mouth, bucking your hips.

Music begins playing from downstairs, your dad obviously having worked out how to use the sound system by himself. Voices from neighbors arriving float in through your open window. Joel tears his shirt off of your shoulders and begins sucking on your neck.

“Joel,” you whimper, “want more.”

He laughs against your skin. “So needy, darlin’.”

His hands pull away from your clit for a few seconds before he inserts a finger, slow, but fucking perfect. Your back arches against him as he pushes in further, going deeper than you ever managed yourself.

“Good?” he’s whispering, and all you can offer as response are your panting breaths.

He pumps slowly a few times, then pulls all the way out and inserts two. Your hands pull his lips against yours again, purely to allow yourself to moan without risk of being heard from the front yard.

Joel’s fingers curl and hit that spot inside you that yours never could. Your mouth agape, you writhe under his touch as his hand fucks you, his palm providing just enough friction on your clit to nudge you closer and closer to your orgasm with each drag of his wrist.

“Fuck, Joel, I’m close,” you whisper.

“Gotta be real quiet, baby, okay? Too many people downstairs.”

Your back arches again as your high approaches.

“Fuck, keep going.”

Joel’s hand pumps in and out of you at a punishing pace, fucking you so hard that his palm comes down on your clit harder and harder with each thrust.

Your nails dig into his shoulders, trying your best to keep the noise down, but his fingers feel so good, the feeling of him overwhelming, so wrong and yet so fucking right.

You’re sure you’re about to cry out, and Joel notices too, because he instantly pushes himself against your body; lips brushing your ear to coax you through your high, shoulder at the perfect position for you to sob into as you cum all over his fingers.

When your orgasm subsides, aftereffects washing over you like waves, you lay with your eyes closed, letting your shaky breath come back to normal. Your body hums with energy, but you’re so spaced out you feel like you can’t move.

Joel lifts his weight off of you, leaning onto one hip to pull your panties back and your skirt over them. You watch him lazily through your eyelashes. He fixes your hair, and runs his cupped hand down your cheek.

It’s soft, unlike the last ten minutes were. He’s being Joel again, the Joel you’re used to. But you kinda want to get to know this new Joel, all the same.

Then he shows you one last glimpse of him.

He lifts his middle finger, buried deep inside you not even a minute ago, and brings it to his lips. Sucks on it, moaning at the taste of you, before letting it go. He holds out the second digit he fucked you with.

You instinctively part your lips and he pushes it in, letting you taste yourself. He’s watching you with cloudy eyes; you’re not sure what he’s thinking as you suckle on his finger, but you know it’s filthy.

He removes it and then uses his thumb to wipe your lips, before getting up and resuming his position, leaned against your dresser.

You understand it as your cue to get up, too.

You stand, adjusting your dress, and stare at him for a moment.

“This…” He gestures between the two of you. “This is…We’re…We don’t…”

He looks up. Your eyes meet, and there’s an unspoken exchange of words. You understand, so does he.

“Nothing happened,” you breathe.

Joel nods, and leaves the room first.

----------

tag list: @yvonneeeee @brittmb115

[hiddenlife-manager]

i dont know if you do driver x driver x reader, if you do then maybe oscar x logan x reader? if you dont then just logan x reader is good. i dont really have a good idea for smut but if youre up for it there could be some oral sex, choking, possessiveness, and degradation? ima gonna be honest its been a hot minute since ive read your smut so id theres something in my request youre not comfortable with, my apologies!

Logan Sargeant X Reader X Oscar Piastri

cw... anal, double penetration, not edited, cumshot, kissing with cum, hair pulling, slight dom, slight hinting to the two of them being into each other, gagging, blow job, oral, jealousy, timeskip, plot and porn, etc...

notepad... HIYA! Second post of the day. Honestly speaking I enjoyed this. But i probably could have spent more time on it. Either way I had fun.

There were only a few things Logan Sargeant had that Oscar Piastri didn’t. He hated to admit it, but it was true that Oscar was the better rookie and the better driver. He had things that Logan didn't, but he had one thing—the only thing Oscar couldn’t have and wanted more than anything. He had you. You were his trophy, the girl the two of them fought for in the Perma days. There was no hate between the two of them, still being the closest of friends, but Oscar could never help but be filled with jealousy each time he saw you with Logan. He was the better match for you, yet you chose Logan. 

It was the Miami Grand Prix; you were there supporting Logan after a disappointing week. Oscar certainly had a bad week, but compared to Logan, it was a hundred times better. He couldn’t help looking at you talking to Logan, walking hand in hand. He wanted what Logan had; it was selfish; you were happy; his friend was happy; he knew it was wrong. 

“Hey Oscar!” He heard Logan's voice call him out, it stunned him. He looked up, seeing him walk up with you. You waved to him, clearly unaware of his feelings.

“Oscar, you look great; how long has it been?” You asked, letting go of Logan's hand, hugging the tall man. Leaving him confused for a moment, he slowly raised his arms to hug you back. It had been sometimes since he felt your touch that all the feelings he felt became stronger than ever. 

“Likewise, are you two still together?” He asked if it was true that you were never in the media and were also never posted about. You nodded. Logan grabbed her hand and pulled her away. 

“Stronger than ever. Oscar, do you want to join us for dinner at my place? Like before, this time at my own home.” Logan asked him rather quickly. Oscar was unsure of how to respond. After spending an entire night with you and Logann being in love, It sounded like hell, yet he missed you, the sound of your laughs, or the way you talked. It was a tough decision; it felt like hours passed while the two waited for his answer. 

“Like old times.” 

“Ah~” You mumbled your head back, your legs being pushed while Logan’s mouth sucked at your clit. How did Oscar get here? Watching his friend eat out the girl he wanted. He could have left, but he stayed. Your moans sound so sweet, like honey to him. He watched Logan suck your clit almost as if he were making out with your pussy. You were clearly close to orgasming, your words becoming less coherent. He heard the low voice of Logan. 

“You’re our guest, Oscar; I know you want to.” Logan stood up, looking at him with your juices on his lips. Logan knew him too well. Oscar walked over to you and him. Logan sighed, seeing your panting face cumming just by his mouth. “You are my friend, but do know I am possessive of her. Don’t leave a mark on her Oscar, or I might not be able to forgive you for it.” 

Oscar nodded; it seemed like all that Logan told him went through one ear and out the other. Logan sighed, climbing on the bed right behind you, hauling your panting body up. He used his chest to support your back, putting you right at the edge of the bed for Oscar. His other hands spread your legs wide. 

“You want me to?” Logan rolled his eyes, taking one hand away from you and tossing a condom for Oscar to catch. He hated it because he was acting so inexperienced in front of you. He held the condom, opening it while pulling his cock out and putting the protection on properly. 

“Pick a hole, ass or pussy?” 

“I know you, Logan; you pick.” Logan smiled upon hearing Oscar say such a thing. He was caressing your cheek, flipping you over, and having you on all four. 

“I say surprise her. You dreamed of this, so do what you want for once.” Oscar knew Logan's kind heart was nothing but excited to have control over him. Logan pulled out his cock, pumping it a few times. "Besides, I have her mouth.” He shoved his cock into your mouth suddenly. Oscar began to hear the lewd sounds of your muffled gags. He groaned while doing it. He shoved his cock up your ass. It was so tight, and you were so unprepared. “You picked her ass. I’ve been training her, so she’ll be fine.” 

Logan gently placed his hands on your head, playing with your hair; cooing at you. Oscar could tell he truly cared for you. No matter what, even face-fucking you, he had a hint of gentleness. Oscar held onto your hips, bouncing you back and forth on his cock. Causing moans to be heard that were muffled by Logan's cock in your mouth. Logan thrust deep into your mouth, gagging echo into the large room. 

“Can I grab her hair?” Logan smirked, nodding to him. Oscar's hand went to your hair, pulling it back, causing a small pop when your lips left Logan's cock. Logan used the opportunity of shock from you to shove his cock once more into your beautiful mouth. Logan and Oscar found themselves moaning, both enjoying the view of you being used. Clearly, they both enjoyed it; their relationship has been a bit rocky since Logan got with you, and this was a good way to get them to fix it. 

You, on the other hand, didn’t mind it; you were being fucked in two holes and forced into a moaning mess. You loved it even when your hands got weak. They began to shake, feeling like you were about to orgasm. You knew Logan was close, his cock twitching in your mouth and his thrust being deeper than normal, making you gag even louder than before. You weren’t sure how Oscar orgasmed and were unsure if he was close or not, yet the sounds of his whimpering from how good your ass felt told you all you needed. 

The abuse of your ass and mouth continued until Logan thrust so deep it made you gag that you had to pull away while he came. Oscar grabbed your hair tightly, your mouth open, and Logan once more shoved his cock in your mouth, making you milk him dry. You were gasping for air, trying to moan, cum flowing out of your lips, unable to hold yourself up. Oscar fucked you faster; you knew he was enjoying it, but it became overwhelming for him. 

That was until he pulled you back by your hair so tight that he sat you up and came into your ass deep, filling his condom up. Leaving you moaning loudly at the feeling of his cock getting soft slowly. You were still covered in cum. Logan leaned down to you, kissing you deeply, not caring about the cum clearly on your lips. Oscar is still deep inside you; his cock is so deep that it feels better than any woman he has been with.

“We can do this again, Oscar.” Logan and Oscar were both naked, watching your sleeping body. You went right to sleep after they helped clean you up. 

“I missed you too, Logan.” They turned to each other and shook hands, firmly embracing each other in a quick hug.

[sanguineterrain]

Your writing is so damn good, you execute every request perfectly 😭

Could you maybe write something where Dick's insecure partner wants to break up with him because their self-image is getting worse cause they feel they can't catch up to the Golden Boy reputation, superheroes, billionaires and so on?

hi, thanks for the request! I hope I did it justice :) a brief interlude from jaytodd before we return to our regularly scheduled program lol

dick grayson x gn!reader. low self esteem, an almost breakup, reader feeling insecure, threatened, sad. happy ending! 2.1k words

****

You've been tugging at your outfit for ten minutes. At this rate, you'll have to concede that this is as good as it's going to get.

"My love, you almost ready?"

You sigh and watch your reflection fold its arms.

"Yeah," you say softly. "'M ready."

The door opens. Your heart swoops.

Dick is beautiful, as usual. Your boyfriend can do a lot, including fill a suit. Both your and his outfits were tailor-made because that's one of the perks of being the son of a billionaire.

Over and over, you'd insisted you could wear off-the-rack, and over and over, Dick had said that was silly, that Bruce wouldn't mind.

And it's true that what you're wearing flatters you better than anything from Macy's or Marshall's would've. But you know it won't help tonight. Not in a room full of Gotham's elite.

"Just as I suspected," Dick says, immediately draping his arms over your hips. "You're gonna steal the show tonight."

He's lying.

That voice in your head has gotten louder recently, and you don't know how to turn it off.

You kiss him instead of responding. Dick enthusiastically reciprocates, always delighted when you touch him. You used to think it would be enough.

But ever since you found out that not only are you dating a billionaire philanthropist with a face that makes angels weep, but that said guy is also arguably the most beloved hero in Gotham, maybe second only to the Batman (who's his freaking dad?!), you've begun to have doubts.

You pull back. Dick's tie perfectly sets off his eyes. They're bright as they look at you.

"Everything okay?" he asks, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

"Uh-huh," you say, trying to smile. "Just nervous."

“Hey, it's alright. I'll be by your side all night. I'll save you from any and all small talk, promise." He winks. "And we can duck out early, get hot chocolate from that place you like. They won't care."

Dick's always doing that. Always catering to you. You're just some nobody who happened to stumble into the best relationship you’ve ever had with a golden god.

Dick never reminds you of that. That he could do better. He doesn't have to—you know it all on your own.

You swallow. “Okay. If you're sure. I... I would like to leave early, Gray."

“‘Course, baby,” Dick says, attaching his cuff links. "Anything you want."

You turn back to the mirror, wondering if you can reinvent your personality before you go and remind everyone what a mistake Dick Grayson has made in choosing you. 

****

The party is tasteful, though a little stuffy. You're only here because Dick is going to give a speech, and he asked you to come support him. And while you know it's better for him to go without you so you won't dull his shine, it seems Dick hasn't quite figured that out.  

You hold onto Dick’s arm as he makes his usual rounds. Dick doesn't enjoy these events, you know that, but he's fluid in his interactions. There is no doubt he’s Bruce Wayne’s prodigy. With his suit, his hair, his easy posture, Dick is almost unrecognizable from when you woke up with him this morning. 

He's in his element. All you can do is peer in and watch. 

Dick leans in and slips a hand around your waist after the fourth interaction with a donor. A donor who, again, acted like Dick may as well have been dragging around a coat rack with how intently they ignored you. Not that you give a shit about what the one percent have to say about you, except sometimes they say a lot of mean things, things you're pretty sure they don't let Dick overhear, and sometimes you start wondering if Dick is the only person who can't see truth in what they say, and sometimes—

“Hey.” Dick leans in to talk in your ear. He's warm and solid. You wish that was a comfort. “You okay?”

You're exhausted. 

“Uh-hmm.”

He is going to wake up one of these days and realize he can have it so much better. 

Dick moves like he's about to say more, pull you closer and permeate your senses with his gold.

“Dickie!” 

Sweet, tinkling laughter echoes across the room. The crowd parts for this new woman, an obvious socialite, dressed to the nines and gorgeous. 

Her dress matches Dick's tie. You feel sick.

When she reaches you two, she wastes no time grabbing Dick and kissing his cheek. He extricates himself from her, like he's done a million times before with everyone else who thinks they're entitled to a piece of Dick Grayson. He shoots you an apologetic look. You look away.

“My God, it’s been what, ten years?” she says. Then she sees you. “Oh! Where are my manners? I’m Caroline Banesbury, Duchess of Middlesworth. I heard the Dickie Grayson was going to be here, and I had to come.”

“Been a while,” Dick says, smiling blandly. “How are you, Caroline?”

“Spectacular! Father just bought another castle. You should come and see it sometime.” She plucks a flute of champagne off of a passing tray and smiles behind the rim of the glass. 

“Dick and I go way back,” she says, gaze roving over him. “I hear you're transforming Blüdhaven. Taking a page out of Bruce's book, hm? You always had a big heart, Dickie.” 

She grabs his arm and links it with hers. You sigh and take a sip of your own drink. You half-wish Poison Ivy would come in and gas the room or something.

Dick clears his throat and maneuvers out of her grip once more, letting go of her with a light pat. He returns to you, snugly holding your shoulders.

"This is my partner," he says about you.

Caroline hums, looking over you. "I see. Pleasure."

You nod. She turns back to Dick.

“If I can be of any help to your project, you let me know,” she adds, glancing down at where her empty arm now hangs at her side. “Anything.” 

“That's generous of you, Carrie.” 

Dick and I go way back.

Oh. Right. You're stupid. They've dated. 

“We should have dinner,” she continues. “Catch up. I'm dying to know what Gotham's darling has been up to.”

“I feel sick,” you announce. 

Dick and Caroline turn to you. Caroline looks perplexed, like you've just said you like to chew concrete. 

“Oh, I'm sorry to hear that,” she says, hardly sparing you a glance. "Perhaps you ought to lie down."

You feel Dick's eyes on you. If you don't leave soon, he'll know you're lying. Possibly the worst part about dating Batman's protégé.

Suddenly, leaving this hall is the most important thing you've ever had to do. You feel like you'll die if you don't.

Your feet start moving.

"Baby—"

Anyway, this is Caroline's chance. She can swoop in with her trust fund and while you think Dick can do way better than her—he can always do better—anyone is better than you. For Dick Grayson, who has been a master acrobat since he was a child, son of Batman, leader of the Titans, indubitably intelligent, capable, beautiful, the best goddamn guy you'll ever know—

You've lost your way. You're out of the gala, away from duchesses and doom. And you meant to get your coat but this hall that Bruce rented is enormous. You've no idea where you are. But you're alone.

Bruce must've known too, how unfit you are for his son. And why wouldn't he tell Dick? Unless Dick ignored him, because Dick, for all his smarts, is stupidly in love with you, thinks you're where he should put his heart, is certain you won't fumble and drop it.

Warm, callused fingers catch your wrist and you remember, suddenly, Dick telling you once, after you'd nearly stumbled into the street, that he'd never let you fall.

You meet his eyes. Why does he look at you like that? Who gave him the right to look at you like-like you—as if you could ever deserve—

"Hey," he says, squeezes your hand. "Hey, hey. What's going on?"

Dick Grayson is not a trusting man but he trusts you and good God, you're about to break him.

"I need to break up with you," you blurt.

"What?" he breathes. "What—why would you say that?"

You wish he'd give you the slip he gave everyone in that room, gently separate your arm from his hand. You never learned how to evade Dick's touch.

"Because it's true. Dick, please understand—"

"No, I'm trying to understand. Because yesterday—no, tonight, you were fine—"

"No, Dick, I wasn't fine! I haven't been fine in months!"

You wrench your arm away. He looks like you slapped him.

"You know anybody I talk to in there means nothing, right? You know that, honey." He's pleading.

You curl your fist into your eye. "It's more than that, Gray."

"Then tell me what the problem is," he says desperately. "Tell me and we'll fix it. I promise we can fix it."

"You can't!" you say, voice cracking. "You can't fix me."

Dick shakes his head. "I don't—"

"Why can't you let me break up with you with a little bit of dignity?" you ask. "Do you have to be better at this too?"

"I don't want to break up," he says, tugging at a handful of his hair. "This doesn't make sense. We're happy. You're happy, aren't you? Don't I make you happy?"

"Of course," you choke out. "Of course you make me happy. But you don't see I'm bad for you. You're wonderful and perfect and golden, Dick. And I'm a stain. I need to be scrubbed away."

"Wh—that's not true!"

"Everywhere we go, people see me with you and are immediately confused. I'm not a superhero, I'm not royalty, I'm not a socialite, and yet somehow I've managed to snag Gotham's darling. This is a mistake. I'm trying to do you a favor and wake you up!"

Dick's face is hard with anger. How could you have thought this would be easy?

"I don't need to be woken up! What is it that makes you think I have no agency over the people I choose to spend time with? Everyone I meet thinks they're entitled to touch me, demand me. Everyone but you. You, the person I chose to love, who I love everyday. Do you think you pulled the wool over my eyes and you're snapping me out of it? Is that what you really think?"

And isn't this the most puzzling thing? That he's not sad or gently accepting; Dick is mad.

"I just—" He runs a hand through his hair. "I don't mean to yell, but really, I can't bear it if you see me as some god on a pedestal, unattainable and inhuman, like everyone else sees me. I love you on purpose."

"You're so accomplished, though," you say weakly. "You're..." You wave your hand over him. "You're fucking Nightwing, D. You were Robin, you have superheroes for friends, Batman for a parent, you're beloved by, like, all of Jersey—"

"My love, you know those are just parts of me. You see all of me. You know me. And that's not a one-way privilege, okay? I'm so damn lucky to know you, to love you, to be with you, to fight with you. To fight for you. Knowing you isn't something I take for granted."

"But I'm boring," you say, tears spilling over. "Jesus Christ, Dick, I'm plain and untalented, barely a dime to my name, so painfully ordinary that—"

"Listen to me," he says, taking your face in his hands. "Flying around or shooting lasers out of your eyes, sure, it's cool, and it's helpful for taking down an alien dictator. But I don't need you to do any of that, honey. I don't need nor want you to be anyone but you. I wasn't tricked or swindled into loving you. We caught each other halfway, just like we were meant to."

You let him pull you into his arms, let him press your tear stains to his silk pocket square, let his hair fall around you.

His embrace is solid, firm, but when he inhales, his shoulders shake.

"Do you—" He swallows, throat against yours. "Do you still want to break up?"

His heart beats against your cheek.

"I'm just afraid you'll get tired of me," you whisper. "Bored. Annoyed."

"I won't," he whispers. "You're the least boring person ever. It's never boring to be loved."

You squeeze your eyes shut. Dick's warmth encloses you.

"No, I don't want to break up. I'm sorry."

He holds you tighter, and you realize you never had to match Dick's tie. Not when you've got his heart.

[fluentmoviequoter]

It's Not About You

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: When Tim overhears his fellow police officers and your other neighbors flirting with you, he gets jealous, and takes it out on you.

Warnings: jealous!Tim (he's hot), brief angst, fluff at the end

Word Count: 2.1k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Over the last few years of impromptu visits to the Mid-Wilshire LAPD station, you’ve gotten to know most of the front desk staff. They know you too, and you’re often wordlessly handed a visitor’s badge and wished good luck. You’ve heard the stories about the man you come to visit: how intense and grumpy he can be, but you’ve never seen that side of him for yourself.

Today, two people sit at the front desk, and you’ve never seen either before. Moving into one line, you wait until you reach the desk. You smile as you look at his name tag and are surprised to realize that you have heard his name.

“How can I help you today?” he asks, clearly displeased with his current position and forcing his smile.

“Officer Nolan, I am here to visit Officer Bradford,” you answer.

“Bradford,” Nolan repeats. “Tim Bradford?”

“That’s the one. I just need to drop something off and ask him a quick question.”

“Oh, sure,” Nolan replies. “Just fill this out for me and I’ll get you a badge.”

You nod, stepping to the side as you fill out the paperwork you haven’t seen since your first visit. Knowing that Nolan is new, though, and seeing just how busy the station is, you decide to do as he asks rather than argue with him.

“So, do you know Officer Bradford?” Nolan asks.

“I do. I’m his neighbor,” you answer.

“Ah, I see. I’m surprised someone as nice as you would intentionally visit him.”

“What does that mean?” you ask, furrowing your brows as you pass the clipboard back to him.

“Nothing, just- Hang on, I’m out of badges. Jackson, do you have visitors’ badges over there?”

“Uh, yeah,” the man beside him, Jackson apparently, answers.

“She’s here to visit Bradford,” Nolan explains.

“On purpose?” Jackson asks.

“That’s what I said!”

“Why is that so surprising?” you ask, smiling.

“He’s just… grumpy, and you seem so kind and fun to be around,” Nolan replies.

“You think I’d be fun to be around?”

“I- I mean, yeah. So envisioning you and Bradford talking to each other is just weird.”

“And concerning,” Jackson adds. “Have you been tested for any cognitive issues?”

“That’s not cognitive-related, you’re just questioning if I’m a good judge of character,” you argue.

“What’s your impression of me?” Nolan inquires. “Just to make sure you’re okay.”

“Well,” you begin, tapping the desk as you think.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim looks down at his watch before glancing at the door. You should be here by now; your text said ten minutes, and it’s been twice that. Tim abandons the conversation he’s been ignoring and walks to the door behind the desk. He hears you say why you’re there, but when Nolan starts talking to you about how different you are from Tim and then dips into what sounds like flirting, Tim's jaw tightens as he listens.

“As much fun as this has been,” you say with a chuckle, “I’m really late, and-“

“Bradford hates that. Trust me, I know,” Nolan interjects. “Do you know where you’re going?”

“I do. Thank you, Officer Nolan.”

“John.”

Tim watches you smile as you use Nolan’s first name, and his nostrils flare. Usually, he can recognize his own emotions (and he’d admit - to you, at least - that he doesn’t have much emotional range). Right now, he can’t place the feelings he’s experiencing watching you and Nolan.

“Uh, Tim?” you ask, stepping through the door to go to the bullpen.

“Hey,” Tim replies, turning quickly. He picks up a folder and adds, “Everything okay? Took you longer than usual.”

You look at the folder in his hand and answer, “Yeah. My favorite cop wasn’t at the front desk so I actually had to go through the whole visitor thing.”

“I’m not your favorite cop?” Tim asks.

“Depends on the day,” you reply, smiling as he steps beside you.

Tim doesn’t answer, and when you look over at him, you’re surprised to see him looking straight ahead, bending the folder with a tight grip. You stop, placing a hand on his forearm.

“Are you okay?” you ask softly.

“Never been better,” Tim answers. “Why’d you stop by?”

“Oh. I wanted to let you know that Kojo is at my house, but also have a question.”

“Then ask.”

You bristle slightly at Tim’s disinterested tone, but you know his job is tough, and he’s probably had a long day.

“Do you-“

“Bradford!” someone calls. “Let’s go!”

Tim looks toward you, and you say, “Go ahead. My question can wait. Have a good day, Tim.”

“You too,” he mutters.

Tim takes the time to watch you leave, despite his seeming indifference. When you stop by the desk to say bye to Nolan, Tim destroys the folder as he realizes what he feels. Tim Bradford is jealous. Worse, he’s jealous of a rookie.

✯✯✯✯✯

Kojo is on a leash in your front yard, and you smile as you watch him jump after a ball. Tim lives directly beside you, so you’ll know when he gets home. Hopefully, the rest of his shift went okay, and he’s in a better mood now.

A deep voice calls your name, and you look away from Kojo. Your neighbor from the other side stops on the sidewalk before your house to continue talking to you.

“Hey! How are you?” you respond, staying by your porch.

“Better now,” he replies with a flirtatious smile.

He’s not a bad neighbor, but he makes you uncomfortable because he flirts with you every time he sees you. Having Kojo nearby makes you more comfortable, but you hope to get through the small talk and move on.

“I’m having a little get together on Friday if you’d like to come over.”

You call Kojo to your side, and he happily sits before you, another buffer between you and your neighbor. Tim’s truck turns into his driveway, and you sigh in relief. He gets out quickly, stopping by his passenger door as he watches you and Kojo. You smile, unsurprised but disappointed when Tim doesn’t return it.

“Friday?” your neighbor asks.

“I’ll, uh, I’m not sure if I can make it,” you offer. “Thanks for the invitation, though.”

“Open invite,” he adds before walking back toward his house.

“Hey, Tim,” you call, walking across your yard with Kojo’s leash in your hand. “Work go okay?”

“Yep. Thanks for taking care of Kojo.”

Tim takes the leash, his hand covering yours for just a moment. He pulls his hand away quickly and nods before he turns toward his house.

“Do you need me to watch him tomorrow?”

“No,” Tim answers, keeping his back to you. “Have a good one.”

You stand in your yard for a moment, wondering what happened. You’re starting to see the Tim Bradford that the officers at Mid-Wilshire talk about, and you’re not sure you like it.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim was hoping that you’d ask your question when he got home. When he saw your other neighbor talking to you and, from what Tim heard, asking you out, he decided he wasn’t in the mood to talk. Turning his back on you felt wrong, but his jealousy is calling the shots for now. Everyone close to you, close to Tim, seems to be making a move on you. Tim doesn’t want to admit it, but part of why he likes you so much is because he’s falling for you. He knows he’ll never be good enough for you, so he’s happy to be your friend... until today, and now he’s not sure if he can stand by and watch another man attempt to make you happy.

“Any chance you can tell me that I saw that wrong?” Tim asks Kojo. When Kojo huffs, he replies, “I didn’t think so.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Kojo starts barking as soon as you return home from running some errands. Tim said he didn’t need your help today, but Kojo needs something. You text Tim, asking if he wants you to check on Kojo, but he doesn’t answer. After a few minutes, you use your spare key and enter Tim’s house.

As you walk into the backyard with Kojo, you call Tim, but he still doesn’t answer. Kojo is fine, simply lonely, so you take him back to your house. After texting Tim to let him know, you walk back to your car to lock it. A police car stops across the street, and when you see Nolan exit the driver’s side, you yell his name and jog toward the road.

“Hey,” he greets.

“What’s going on?” you ask, walking into the street so you can hear him.

“Noise complaint. How long have you been home?”

“Ten minutes, maybe.”

“They called about excessive dog barking, and that’s a direct quote.”

“Oh… that was Tim’s dog. He’s fine now, but he was barking at me when I got back because he was lonely.”

Another shop parks behind Nolan’s, and Tim slams the door as he exits.

“It was Kojo, I’m so sorry,” you offer.

“I told you he was fine today,” Tim replies.

“He started barking and I was worried about him. You didn’t answer, so I-“

“It’s fine,” Tim snaps.

“Sorry,” you whisper.

Nolan nods as he gets back in his shop. Tim waits until he drives away to take a deep breath. He begins to speak, but another neighbor stops as he drives by, rolling his window down to ask how you are. Tim opens his door, and you rush to his shop and look through his rolled-down window.

“I’m sorry, Tim,” you repeat.

“It’s fine.”

“Clearly it isn’t because you can’t even look at me. I won’t do it again.”

“It’s not about you,” Tim argues. It is, but he can’t tell you that.

“Got it,” you murmur, stepping back. “I’ll take Kojo back to your place and leave my key.”

You cross the road, walking through your yard as you think about what you’re losing by accidentally pushing Tim away. Tim yells your name, and you stop but don’t turn toward him. He walks up behind you, and you can’t see his hands flex at his sides as he tries to find the words to say.

“It is about you, but not about you taking care of Kojo,” Tim begins. “It’s about you and me.”

Turning your head, you watch Tim’s hand fold into a fist as he continues.

“I just- Nolan was flirting with you, and…”

“You think he was flirting with me?” you ask, turning so you’re facing Tim.

“He was. And it made me angry. When I came home and saw what’s-his-name flirting with you too…”

“You got angry?”

“I got jealous,” Tim forces out.

“Why?”

“Because they’re doing what I want to do.”

“What does that mean, Tim?”

“It means that I want to be more than your friend but I’m not relationship material. Watching guys try to be what I want to be makes me jealous and angry, and for some reason I took it out on you.”

“And Nolan?”

Tim pauses before nodding.

“You know the worst part of this?” you ask. “That if you had just told me, I would have let you know that I feel the same.”

“You don’t get jealous,” Tim argues.

“That’s not true. Every time someone flirts with you or stares a little too openly, I remember that you could have anyone you wanted. Being your neighbor was the closest I thought I could get.”

Tim steps toward you, and you match his movement, closing the distance together.

“So…” you begin.

“So. What did you want to ask at the station?"

"If I could come over, but I feel confident assuming that you'd say yes."

Tim closes his eyes when your neighbor says your name.

“Cute,” you murmur.

“I realized that a big gathering like that wasn’t a good choice, so I wanted to ask if you were free Thursday? Maybe we could get some dinner or something."

“She’s busy,” Tim answers, his eyes on you.

“But-“

“Let me rephrase, she’s taken!” Tim yells.

“Oh, sorry man, I didn’t know.”

Tim watches him scurry inside before turning back toward you. You smile as you look at him.

“I’m taken?” you repeat.

“Only if you want to be.”

Nodding, you lay your hands on Tim’s chest. He moves a hand up to your waist, pulling you against him. Kojo barks before he can do anything, and you laugh against Tim’s uniform.

“Aren’t you still working?” you ask.

“Technically. How about dinner when I get off?”

“Only if you cook.”

“Like I’m taking you out in public this soon. I just got over the jealousy.”

You kiss Tim’s cheek just before dispatch alerts him of a call in the area.

“Where are you going?” he asks as you walk away.

“Home!” you call as you walk into his porch. “My boy lives here. And you do too.”

[certifiedbueckethead]

concert confession﹒⪩⪨﹒

paige bueckers x teammate! reader

warnings: eating out, fingering

word count: 3.3k

a/n: it’s been a bit since I last posted a ff but here goes nothing I guess ;-; feel free to send me any requests and maybe I’ll post more - inspired because im seeing Bryson this weekend <3

readers pov

You take a step back in front of the mirror in your shared dorm with your roommates Azzi and Kamorea. You had on a lacy, black corset and a tight black leather skirt and a pair of those cute heels, that have the pretty strings going up your leg- also black. You may ask, what’s the occasion? Well, you’re going to your first concert. As roommates, you got lucky since both Azzi and KK know how to do hair and makeup, which you weren’t gifted with. But, you had all the cute clothes, so you all helped each other out, and honestly - who knew a bunch of college basketball girls could look so hot because you guys really did look good. 

“I am so glad we convinced you to come along with us y/n because you look so fucking good.”, Azzi says, taking a picture of the three of you in the mirror. KK hummed in agreement before getting the shot glasses and setting them on your dresser. “Okay, how about we do three here and we can have some in the car ride there.”, you say and the girls were far from opposed. You didn’t want to get too far gone, especially since this is a concert to remember. You loved rnb music a lot, it was your favorite genre - making Bryson Tiller one of your top artists. 

You all finish your shots, taking a few more photos together and you run to your uber that you ordered a few minutes prior. “No way.”, you say in the car - staring at a message on your phone. You had posted a picture of your fit on your story on Instagram, with some text saying “bryson tn <3”.  Not only did your crush like the story, but she had responded to your story too. 

pbuecketz 

hey, didn’t know yall were going to the concert tn, you should’ve told us 

                                                                                                                               st3rg1rl (y/n)

who’s us? 

pbuecketz 

me, ice, nika, and aubrey 

let’s meet, it’s all floor tickets anyways 

Your roommates take your phone and read over the short conversation. “Yeah we knew Paige was coming, but if we told you, we knew you wouldn’t-”, KK started, before stopping to watch you down the small plastic bottle you had filled with soju. 

If Paige was going to be here and you looked this good, you couldn’t waste it being in your head. You had to shoot your shot. Liquid confidence can’t hurt anyone. Maybe that’s just the alcohol speaking. Your thoughts are silenced when the uber driver pulled up, a full block from the venue, like you had requested. 

You all quickly thank the driver and get out, drinking the last of the small bottles of alcohol you brought, fixing your clothes and checking your makeup. 

The walk to the venue was nice, it was a cool night and since it’s May, it’s not too hot but during the evenings it’s the perfect temperature. Azzi teases you about Paige, showing you her stories on instagram with her fits - since you refused to look at them. “AZZI, STOP SPOILING THE GOODS”, you say to her, flipping her off. Getting into the venue was fine, you showed your tickets and ID since there was a bar. You all knew this prior to arriving, but why pay for overpriced water downed alcohol when you could just pre-game. But the pre-game has gotten to your small group of friends, since you all were smiley, giggly and not making much coherent sense. At security when checking in, you all tried your best to be the mature adults you were. 

It was a bit early, 8:17 pm and the event didn’t start until 8:30. You drag your girls to the bathroom, and ask for a pep talk. “Y/n, you’ve liked her for 3 fucking years, if you don’t do something about it then it’s your own fault.”, Azzi tells you, rubbing your arm. “You look hot, Paige would have to be straight as a fucking ruler if she doesn’t have her eyes on you the whole night.”, KK tells you and you look in the mirror and fix your lip liner. 

“You’re Y/n, uconns second best player, right behind Paige. You look hot tonight, and you can do this.”, you mumble to yourself as you follow your girls out the bathroom and the find some of your other teammates and you all find a good place, near the stage. 

“You look way better tonight in person, your story didn’t do you justice mamas”, the girl you were nervous the entire way to the venue said, standing right in front of you. Something was different tonight, something felt different but you couldn’t put your finger on it - maybe it was the alcohol messing with you again but you go for it. 

“If I knew you were coming tonight, I would’ve put some more effort in - you’re a tough girl to impress.”, you respond. It’s true anyways, she was hard to impress. It wasn’t the first time you’ve worn something like this, or just about done anything for her to say something like this. 

The concert starts, and the team is taking selfies with each other to capture the moment, and of course KK is on live with Ice and Azzi, streaming the concert and you, Nika, Aubrey and Paige are singing along and taking videos. You glance at Paige, and admire how she looks. She didn’t have to wear much makeup to look so gorgeous, she wore black dress pants and a black crop top, matching your vibe - unintentionally of course. As the concert progresses, you feel the alcohol start to ware off, and though you didn’t want to waste money at the bar, you end up going to the back and getting a drink. You still had to shoot your shot, which you still had no clue what you were going to do. 

Then it hits you, you knew what to do. You get another quick shot of soju, down it and make your way back to your friends. “Hey guys, I gotta use the bathroom anyone wanna come with.” you say to them, and luck is on your side because the very girls at the concert with you all know about your 3 year crush on Paige, and they let her answer. “Yeah, I gotta go too.”, Paige says, grabbing your hand and pulling you through the crowd. 

Azzi and KK shoot you a look as you get dragged through the crowd and you feel your face heat up. When the two of you get to the bathroom, Paige actually goes to the bathroom and you bend over slightly over the counter and fix your eyeliner. Nodding along with the music, mouthing the words, Paige comes out of the stall, and you can see her checking you out. 

Perhaps, you might have bent over slightly more - of course you won’t admit it but this has to work somehow. Paige washes her hands and then sits on the counter. It’s just you two in the bathroom, so quiet enough to have a conversation over the loud music from behind the door. 

“I didn’t know you liked Bryson.”, Paige says, watching you reapply your lip gloss. “I could say the same thing about you Paige, don’t you mostly listen to gospel?”, you say to her, teasing - you are familiar with her music taste since she often has aux at practice. “Hey, don’t even start, you listen to Taylor Swift.”, she says, laughing but not taking her eyes off of you. “Paige, stop doing that.”, you say, getting frustrated at her. For 3 full years you’ve liked this girl, and she’s never noticed and it’s quite obvious. From all the cookies you’ve baked for the girl, the light night calls while playing fortnite, the ice cream cheer ups after a rough game, you spent a lot of time with her, just her. 

“Doing what.”, she says, getting off the counter and facing you. Usually, you wouldn’t be able to be so honest but it came so easily when you’ve drank over your limit. “Come on Paige, I like you and you act like you could care less. It’s painfully obvious, but you’d rather keep me on the back burner right? You’d rather be in my arms crying over a girl you’ve got too close too who was supposed to be a casual hookup, countless of times, then even give me a fucking try.”, you say to her, your voice not even wavering at the accusation that just spilled from your lips. Paige reaches for your hips, pulling you closer and not letting her hands falter, but just rub small circles on the bone. “Y/n, you know it’s not like that.”, she says, avoiding eye contact. 

“No but it is Paigey, it really is and I can’t keep waiting for something you won’t even acknowledge, let alone for something to happen.”, you say, resting your forehead on hers.”Y/n, I mean it, it’s not like that.”, Paige says, in almost a whisper. “Then what is it like,”, you say in return. You take a step back, and a deep breath. Preparing yourself for the answer you’ve waited years for. “Y/n, you’re like this super talented athlete, who spends all of her time devoted to her school and her sport and I am here just as this girl who just sleeps in others beds every other night and yeah, I’m fucking good at basketball too. But to you it comes effortlessly, and you know what you want, you have this big plan for your future of everything. Down to the name you want your fucking cats when you graduate. You deserve more than me.”, Paige says to you, her voice breaking and her back against the counter. 

“One try, okay? Give me one try, and I can show you why you are what I deserve. You are so gifted and your sport will take you places. Sure you do have some labels at school, but those don’t reflect the Paigey I know, the real you.”, you tell her, suddenly feeling bad for the ambush. You reach over for her hands, and hold them gently before placing soft kisses on them. 

“I only fucked all those other girls to try and get over you y/n, it wasn’t me crying over the fact I got too close to any of them, it’s just none of them were you.”, Paige confesses to you and all you can do is bring her into a hug. The answer you were so scared to hear all this time, it was so simple. Maybe this could’ve been easier, if you said something sooner. 

The two of you return back to your group of friends, holding hands and you enjoy the rest of the concert. You all take photos for Instagram and call ubers to get home. “Guys, lets all sleep over at Aubrey’s and Paige’s.”, KK says, and the team all agrees but you get on your tippy toes, and whisper to Paige, “I want some time with you alone tonight if it’s alright.” She nods her head, trying to not make anything obvious as the group was walking to the door. You call a separate uber, and as everyone else is getting in the cars called a bit earlier, Paige says, “Hey, Y/n had too much to drink, I’ll meet you all at the house, I just want to make sure she gets back okay.” 

Of course everyone believes what Paige says, because they knew you were in love with the girl not the other way around. When the two of you arrive at your dorm, you tell her to excuse the mess and she just laughs. “Y/n, trust me you guys could not be anymore messy then me and Aubrey.”, she says, as you walk in. Now that the two of you are finally alone, you pull Paige into a tight hug, feeling her warmth and embracing her smell - a mix of old spice and ariana grande’s cloud perfume. You feel her breathing, slow and deep as she hugs you back. “You good mamas?”, she whispers and you hum in response. 

You slowly let go of her, and you make your way to your bed. “Paige, can I ask you something?”, you say to her and show follows you to the bed, sitting right next to you. “What’s on your mind?”, she says, not taking her eyes off of you. 

“You know…I haven’t you know. Lost…. Uhm, you know, lost it yet.”, you say to her quickly, avoiding her gaze. She laughs lightly, “Yes, y/n I know that already, what about it?”. “I’ve always wanted it to be you.”, you tell her, bluntly. It’s true, you’ve had offers before, you’ve had people confess to you plenty of times, but you’ve waited for Paige. You needed it to be Paige. 

“Yeah, and why is that?”, she say, gently turning your face towards her and leaning in closer. “Because, with you, it’s real.”, is all you can say before giving into the space left between the two of you. You kiss her, and it’s far from what you expected it to be. Her lips tasted like her cherry lip balm, but the kiss itself. It felt so good, and before you know it, Paige is kissing you back needily, and pulling you into her lap, setting her hand on your lower back. You pause to breathe finally, and there is a single string of saliva connecting your lips together. But Paige doesn't waste her time. She moves her hands to your waist, and kisses your neck gently while untying your corset top. “This okay ma?”, she whispers against your skin. “Mhm, Paige I trust you, I want this.”, you tell her. Looking up at you she says, “At any time you want to stop please tell me okay?”, and this is the reason you’ve fallen in love with her in the first place. She is always so gentle and caring with you, and knowing she felt the same way this is what you wanted. 

Paige gets off your bed and kneels in front of you, helping you take off your top and pulling down your skirt. Admiringly, she stares at you - as if she’s never seen the body of another woman before. You bend a bit down and kiss her lips, feeling vulnerable to be this naked in front of someone. She returns the kiss and places her hands against your chest, rubbing her thumbs against your nipples and you can’t help but whimper into her mouth quietly. She leaves one of her hands on your chest while the other slowly slides down your bare and cold body, rubbing between your thighs. You widen your thighs because you know you want more, you need more of her. Paige takes the hint and stands up and pushes your back against the bed. Before getting on top of you, she takes off her shirt revealing her defined abs. God… she looked so fucking hot and she isn’t even doing anything. She removes her sports bra and her pants, leaving her just in her boxers. She goes back to appreciating your body, kissing and sucking on every inch of your neck, your collarbones and your breasts. Circling her tongue around your nipples, you feel yourself weaken. You want her to make you feel even better and in a small voice you tell her, “Paige… please just make me feel good.”. Kissing your forehead gently and tucking your hair behind your ears, she moves down and gently rubs between your folds, feeling the slick that’s accumulated from her previous advances. It’s clear how needy you were for her and it was embarrassing to you. 

But Paige made it known it turned her on because she groans at the sight of your wetness coating her fingers, she takes her own boxers off and latches her tongue onto your clit. You are so entranced in the feeling of her sucking on you that it takes you a while to realize that she is using her own fingers, that were wet with your slick, to finger herself while she pleasured you. It was so hot to see, you close your eyes from everything that was presented with you. You feel Paige moan against your dripping wet cunt, wet from your slick and her saliva. You get greedy, and want more, yearn for more so you start rolling your hips against her face. 

“Oh my fucking god… paige, paige, please, oh my, fuck just like that, please, ah oh my god, keep going.”, was all you could get out as you took one of your hands and collected some of her hair and shove her against your cunt, wanting even more. You’ve touched yourself to your own dirty thoughts of Paige before, but you could never have imagined it was this good. You feel yourself getting closer and closer, and Paige notices too and she takes her own fingers out of herself.

“Sweetheart, can you get on your knees for me please?”, she says, in such a loving tone you felt compelled to not even question what she was going to do. You get up and do as your told, and Paige slides one of her fingers into you, letting you get used to it. 

Letting out a few desperate moans, Paige slides a second finger into you knwoing you could take another and begins to curl her fingers up inside you. And that is what just about does it for you. “Oh my pretty girl, how does it feel, can you tell me how it feels please angel?”, Paige asks you, using her free hand to caress your waist while her other hand does what only exists in your dirty thoughts and dreams. 

“Paigey, oh so good, more please, fuck me more.”, is what you tell her, feeling your face redden even more. You widen your legs, spreading out your ass for her and pull your plushie into your arms. Paige listens to you, wanting it to be the best first time you could ever be given. She shoves three fingers into your throbbing cunt and you moan into your plushie only dirty things. Whispering in your ear, Paige says, “let me hear what I’m doing to you my love, you sound so pretty for me, it’s only right I get to hear.”, and you let out a few more moans, getting louder the harder Paige curls her fingers into you. 

It was getting overwhelming, having your wetness drip down your thigh but knowing that Paige was taking care of you so good, just the way you’ve wanted turned you on more. It felt like a dream. Before you know it you’re spurting out cum against Paiges fingers, and she doesn’t waste a minute to lick her fingers and eat you out from behind to get everything. The overstimulation was driving you insane, and Paige removed herself from your cunt, leaving a gentle kiss on it. You lay on your back and Paige is quick to pull you into her arms, and placing the covers over the both of you. 

Your forehead is sweaty, making your hair stick to it and Paige tucks your hair behind your ears neatly and kisses your forehead, your cheek and then your lips. “Did I do good for you mama?”, she says, and suddenly the vulnerability you thought only existed in your previously virgin self, you realize she wanted to know if she did good enough for you. “Uh huh, just like I’ve dreamed of, only better.”, you tell her, placing your head against her chest and encapsulating her smell. “I’m so glad I could do that for my girl.”, she tells you and you feel yourself drift off to sleep. 

All the previous anxiety of everything that existed between the two of you has gone away and you feel at peace in her arms. You are sure you can prove to her she deserves you, and that you deserve her.

[fandom-oneshots-etc]

Hey, can you write a story about Evan Buckley and Reader announcing that she’s pregnant to the 118 at like a family gathering :)

🍄 Pairing: Evan Buckley x Reader

🍄 Genre: Fluff

🍄 Summary: At a 118 family gathering, Buck's overprotective nature reveals a little more than the two of you had planned.

🍄 Word Count: 1618

🍄 Abbreviations: N/A

🍄 Warnings: Pregnancy, implied pregnancy complications

🍄 Note: I really liked this request Anon! I hope this is what you were looking for. I thought about this scenario and I instantly imagined Buck accidentally announcing the pregnancy rather than planned. If you would rather a planned version, just pop in another request. A similar request came from @quinnstan247. Enjoy :)

You could feel the eyes following you closely as you slipped into the kitchen to refill your glass of orange cordial. Your overprotective, puppy-dog boyfriend remained outside in the garden of the Nash household along with the rest of the team as they stood around Bobby and the BBQ grill. You knew that Buck was searching for any reason he could to follow you inside, but you met his gaze through the windows and offered him a reassuring smile that seemed to subdue him for the minute.

Since the second you found out, Buck had been glued to your side. It had been three weeks since you took that test, since your doctor had confirmed it and in that time you had, had to convince him every single day that he could leave you and go to work. Every day he fought you, wanting the both of you to stay home so you could rest and he could wait on your every want and need, but you couldn’t do that. You were only thirteen weeks along and there was hardly any reason to be confined to the bed just yet. You knew that he was only concerned about the safety of you and the peach you currently carried in your womb. It was endearing and one of the sweetest things you’d ever seen, you hadn’t thought that Buck could get any sweeter, but here you were one act away from having a mouth full of cavities.

What hadn’t helped was that Buck had been responding to a number of pregnancy calls in the past few weeks a few resulting in sadder endings than anyone wanted. They had definitely struck a chord with Buck and had only made him hover all the more.

Adding the water to your cordial, you took a sip of the orange, a light buzz filling your taste-buds. You had become obsessed with anything orange flavoured since your pregnancy diagnosis. Whether it was orange skittles (which Buck had kindly sat and sorted out for you), or orange flavoured chocolate, or even the orange flavoured cupcakes you had found at the grocery store and ate within an hour of buying, anything orange and you were all for it.

Walking back into the garden, your entire body seemed to clench a little as you stepped back into the gaze of the sun. As much as you were enjoying this down time with the 118, it was so hot. The heatwave had only hit LA in the past few days but already it was in full swing and you were feeling every beam of it.

“Y/n,” you turned over to where Athena was sat with Hen and her daughter May. The three of them were stood around the mini bar that Athena had installed, in direct sunlight. Already hot, you fought down the urge to grimace as you moved to stand by them, the sun glaring on your skin. “We were just telling May about Buck and that kiddie ride at the mall. She doesn’t believe us.” Hen informed and a grin split across your lips, taking your mind off of the sweltering heat.

“Oh my, God. I have a photo, hang on,” You pulled your phone out of your shoulder bag and set your drink on the bar, thumb flicking through the many photos in your gallery in search of the one from the Saturday before. “He thought it was funny and I tried to tell him he wouldn’t fit but he insisted,” You giggled and turned your phone for May to see. “I honestly thought I’d have to call nine-one-one.”

Displayed across your screen was the photo that still had you giggling a week later. There sat Buck, who had squeezed his way into the small metal bus which was obviously aimed for children 7 and under. But Buck had twisted his body at all kinds of angles and had somehow managed to worm his way into the ride. His head was poked out of the door hole, his legs curled up against his chest, unable to stretch out in the tiny space that his body was occupying.

What Athena and the others didn’t know was that Buck wouldn’t have gotten into the ride if it wasn’t for you. That morning your hormones had been playing you like a fiddle and every little thing had upset you, the bin bag had broken when you were trying to change it out for a new one, somehow a red sock had slipped in with your whites and now everything you owned was slightly toned pink and they had shown that advert with the puppy sat in a box, in the rain, on the side of the street with people walking past ignoring it. It seemed, that morning, that everything was stacked against you. Buck had offered to come with you to the mall so you could pick up your clothing order from a store, you had ordered certain items that they didn’t have in stock and they had delivered into the store the day before. You were buzzing to see the new pair of pumps you had ordered. You knew that in a few months if not weeks, the shoes would probably be pressing against the sides of your feet and ankles because of the pregnancy swelling, but that hadn’t stopped you from ordering them in your size. However, like everything else that morning, even that didn’t go as planned. The shoes had been delivered in the wrong colour and in a size smaller than you wanted, making them impossible to wear. Buck had seen how disheartened you had been when you left the store, trying not to cry in frustration. He had wanted to do something to cheer you up and in a joking manner he had made a bet with you that he could fit inside the kiddie bus ride.

It had definitely succeeded in cheering you up, if not from how silly he looked, his large muscular frame curled up inside the ride, from when he got stuck and couldn’t get himself out straight away. You had done what you could to help him out, but you were giggling so hard your entire body went weak. When he had finally gotten out, the two of you had continued to giggle all the way home and your mood had been lifted for the rest of the day.

“Oh, my God,” May giggled. “That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. Please send me that!” she begged.

“Of course,” you agreed with a laugh of your own. “I could never gate keep on a photo like this.”

“What made him get in there?”

“It’s Buck, does he need a reason?” Hen scoffed. As the ladies continued to giggle, the heat seemed to make it’s presence known as it glared down onto you. The side of your temples was beginning to throb and your skin was starting to get slick and sticky, sweat oozing from your pores. You raised a hand to swipe at your brow, glancing around the garden for the closest seat, your legs aching.

As you moved towards one of the sun loungers, your boyfriend’s eyes caught onto your movements, already on high alert.

“Y/n? What’s wrong?” he asked, abandoning his drink at the grill and rushing towards you, one arm slipping around your waist to help guide you to the seat.

“Buck, I’m-”

“Dammit, it’s too hot out here for you. We should’ve cancelled,” he began muttering to himself. “Are you dizzy? Do you need a drink of water? What about something to eat? Is your blood sugar low? What if you’re dehydrated?” The only thing making you dizzy was the hurricane of questions Buck was sending your way, not even leaving a chance for you to answer them. One of his hands instinctively came to rest on the front of your stomach.

“Babe? Baby?” You tried to pull Buck out of his panicked rant, his eyes not once meeting yours as he kept scanning you for any visible injuries. Not that there were any, but the paranoia was getting the best of him and the heat probably wasn’t helping.

“We should get you in the shade,” he decided. “Shit, you should’ve stayed inside. You’re carrying precious cargo now, baby. You and peach can’t take this heat. We shouldn’t have come. This is all my fault-”

“Buck!” You pressed your hands to the sides of his face, directing his eyes to yours so you could try and ground him. “Buck, baby, I’m fine. We’re fine. I’m just a little hot and tired that’s all. It’s normal.” He still seemed a little uncertain, and his eyes held a lifetime of worry for you and his unborn child. “We’re okay. I promise.” You offered him a reassuring smile, your thumb coming to brush against his bottom lip rhythmically, giving him something to focus on. His eyelids pressed shut as he breathed slowly for a second.

“Are you sure? ‘Cause we can go home-”

“We’re fine. I just need to sit for a minute that’s all.” You peeked over his shoulder. “While I’m sitting, we should probably talk to the people behind you, they seem a little shocked. You kind of let the cat out of the bag.” Buck twisted his head to look around at the team behind him, everyone stood, jaws dropped and eyes wide. Eddie was the most comical of the bunch, his glass halfway raised to his mouth ready to take a sip but frozen in time with the news that Buck had unintentionally shared.

“H-Hey, guys,” He chuckled awkwardly with a sheepish grin. “I guess we have some news to share.”

[saddleups]

James is just so HUGE and I mean like height and muscle likee..,, can I request something with just him manhandling reader…

★ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 . . . 2k

★ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 . . . request , complete. JAMES SUNDERLAND X F!READER !! 18+ SMUT MDNI !!

★ 𝐂𝐖 . . . a slightly possessive james . unprotected p in v . creampie . slightly fluffy ? p_rn w/o a plot !

★ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 . . . oh totally , he carries himself quietly but we really see the size/strength of him when it matters most ! also love the concept of james being such a loving , attentive partner who takes care of you ;)

If James passed by you in a cramped corner, he delicately placed his hands on your torso to shift your body slightly so he could get through.

Sometimes, if your seat was too far away, he would reach over and pull it closer to him, eager for your proximity.

And then there was that one phrase: "I can take care of it." How many times have you hard that from him?

From a can you couldn't open, to a spider you didn't want to deal with, James always "took care of it."

It was no different in the bedroom, where his confident touch and skilled hands left you breathless and satisfied. Yet there were days when your desire for him burned so intensely, it almost became unbearable. Waiting in anticipation for him to come home, craving the pleasure only he could provide. The routine sex at the end of the week paled in comparison to the moments when your libido was at its peak.

Much like today where you were eager to be taken care of.

The kitchen was a symphony of clinking pots and sizzling pans. The aroma of garlic and rosemary filled the air, mingling with the scent of freshly baked bread. You hummed softly to yourself as you diced tomatoes, your mind buzzing with anticipation. James would be home any minute now, and you had something special planned for him. It had been too long since you two had connected intimately, and you were determined to make tonight unforgettable.

The front door clicked open, and you felt a thrill shoot through you. James’s deep voice carried through the hallway.

"Hey, babe, I'm home." he called out, his footsteps heavy and purposeful.

You turned your head just in time to see his tall, muscular frame fill the doorway. His blonde hair was slightly tousled from the wind, and his eyes sparkled with warmth as they met yours. He was dressed in his usual work attire—a crisp white shirt clinging to his broad shoulders and well-fitted slacks that accentuated his powerful thighs. Your pulse quickened just looking at him.

"Hey, you," you said with a smile, your heart skipping a beat. "How was your day?"

"Long," he replied, stepping closer. "But it got a hell of a lot better when you texted me about this surprise."

He moved into the kitchen, and suddenly, the room seemed much smaller. His presence was commanding, filling every corner with his energy. As he approached, you could feel the heat radiating off his body, a palpable reminder of the raw power that lay beneath his exterior.

"Mmm, something smells amazing," he murmured, his gaze fixed on you.

You couldn’t help but lean against the counter, letting your eyes roam over his form. "Well, I thought we could use a nice dinner together," you said, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper.

"But I have a feeling it might not be the only thing we end up indulging in tonight."

James chuckled, low and deep. "You always know how to get my attention, don’t you?"

He reached out, his hand curling around your waist, pulling you flush against him. The contact was electric, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. His other hand slid up your back, fingers threading through your hair as he tilted your head back, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Missed you," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "So damn much."

You melted into him, your hands gripping his shirt as his mouth found the curve of your neck. His kisses were firm yet gentle, each one stoking the fire within you. Your breath hitched as his tongue flicked out, tasting the sensitive flesh just below your ear.

"James," you gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders. "I’ve missed you too."

His hand slipped lower, cupping your ass as he lifted you onto the counter. The sudden shift in altitude surprised you, but you quickly wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. His erection pressed against your core, a delicious reminder of what was to come.

"Fuck, you drive me wild," he growled, his lips moving back to capture yours in a bruising kiss.

Your mouth opened eagerly, your tongues tangling in a passionate dance. The world outside the kitchen faded away, leaving just the two of you locked in a heated embrace. His hands roamed your body, exploring every inch of you with possessive intensity. You arched your back, offering yourself to him completely, your nipples hardening under his touch.

"God, you’re so beautiful," he breathed, breaking the kiss to trail his lips down your jawline.

His hand dipped beneath the hem of your shirt, sliding up to cup your breast. The rough pad of his thumb brushed over your nipple, eliciting a gasp from your lips. He squeezed gently, his touch both demanding and tender. You moaned, your head falling back as waves of pleasure rolled through you.

"James, please," you whimpered, your hips grinding against him. "I need you."

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression fierce with desire. "Tell me what you want, baby," he commanded, his voice thick with lust.

You bit your lip, your resolve wavering under his intense gaze. "I want you inside me," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I want you to take care of me, James."

His eyes darkened even further, and he let out a ragged groan. Without another word, he reached down, yanking your leggings and panties down in one swift motion. Your breath caught in your throat as you kicked them aside, your pussy throbbing with need.

James didn’t waste any time. He adjusted himself, positioning the head of his cock at your entrance before thrusting forward with one powerful stroke. The sensation was overwhelming, filling you completely as he sheathed himself inside your tight, wet heat.

"Ahh!" you cried out, your nails digging into his back as he began to move.

His rhythm was relentless, each thrust driving deeper and harder than the last. The counter dug into your back, but you didn’t care. All you could focus on was the way James claimed your body, his strength and dominance pushing you toward the edge.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he muttered, his voice strained with effort. "So fucking tight."

You could barely think, your mind clouded with pleasure. Your hips rose to meet his, desperate for more of his thick, pulsing length. Your breasts bounced with each thrust, your nipples brushing against his chest. The friction sent sparks of sensation coursing through your body, adding fuel to the already raging fire.

"James," you pant, your voice trembling with urgency. "Don’t stop… Please, don’t stop."

He captured your lips again, swallowing your plea as he increased his pace. His hips pistoned against yours, the sound of your flesh meeting echoing in the small space. James's hands grip your hips tightly as he withdraws from your wet, throbbing heat. His breath is hot against your neck, his chest heaving with exertion. The intensity of the moment is palpable, every nerve in your body alive and buzzing with anticipation. You can feel the pulsating warmth of James's erection pressing insistently against your lower belly, still eager and ready despite the relentless pace he set.

"Take care of me, James," you whisper, your voice trembling with desire. "I want you inside me when I come."

James' gaze locks onto yours, as if he's conveying a silent promise. Without a word, he lowers himself, positioning the head of his cock at your entrance. The anticpiation makes your breath hitch, your body shivering with need. James pushes in slowly, deliberately, savoring the sensation as he fills you once more. The stretch and pressure are exquisite, sending shivers down your spine.

"Yes," you moan, arching your back to meet his thrust. "Please, James, don't stop."

James's movements are slow and deliberate, a stark contrast to the frenzied pace of earlier. Each glide of his thick shaft inside you feels like pure pleasure, the friction electric against your sensitive nerves. His rhythm is steady, controlled, drawing out the tension that coils tighter and tighter within you.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside. The feel of his muscular frame pressed against yours, his hard length buried deep within, sends waves of ecstasy crashing over you. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, nails tracing patterns on his skin, while his hands roam possessively over your body, molding your curves, seeking out the most sensitive spots.

His thumb brushes against your clit, just a gentle tease, but it's enough to send jolts of pleasure radiating through you. You gasp, your hips bucking involuntarily as you chase the elusive peak. James matches your rhythm, pushing in deeper with each thrust, his cock sliding along your inner walls with delicious precision.

James leans down inviting you into a searing kiss that leaves no room for doubt about his intentions. His tongue delves deep, tangling with yours in a dance of dominance and submission. It’s a claiming, a promise of unyielding devotion. Determined to fulfill the task you gave him, to take care of you. His hand moves from your clit to grasp your hip, angling your body just right to maximize the depth of his thrusts.

"Feels so good," James murmurs against your mouth, his voice rough with desire. "So tight and wet…all for me."

His words fan the flames of your arousal, making your core clench around his invading length. You can feel the pressure building, the tingling coil tightening inside you, growing closer to its breaking point. James senses it too, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more desperate as he strives to bring you both over the edge.

With a sudden, savage thrust, James buries himself to the hilt, his cock throbbing powerfully inside you. The sensation is overwhelming, your vision blurring as the world narrows down to the pulsing connection between you. His fingers return to your clit, this time applying firm, rhythmic pressure, stoking the fire until it becomes a roaring inferno.

"James, I'm—" You can barely form the words, your breath coming in ragged gasps. "I'm so close…"

"Come for me," James orders, his voice a deep growl that resonates through your entire being. "Let go, baby. Let me feel you come around me."

That final push is all it takes. The dam breaks, pleasure erupting in a torrent of cascading waves. Your body convulses, muscles tensing as you reach the pinnacle of ecstasy. Your pussy clenches down on James's cock, milking him with each spasm of your orgasm.

James roars in response, his own release imminent. You can feel the telltale signs, the way his cock pulses and thickens inside you. With one last, powerful thrust, he surrenders to his climax, flooding your depths with his hot seed.

"Inside me," you manage to gasp, your voice shaky with residual bliss. "Fill me up, James."

His thrusts become erratic, his control fraying as he spills himself into you, pulse after pulse of warm fluid filling your waiting channel. The sensation of his cum flooding you, mingling with your own juices, brings a fresh wave of pleasure, prolonging your orgasm even further.

James collapses forward, his weight supported by his arms braced on either side of you. His face buries in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. For a few moments, there is only the sound of your combined panting, the quiet hum of satisfaction.

Then, with a lazy smile, he lifts his head to look at you, his eyes gleaming with contentment. "You were amazing," he murmurs, planting a tender kiss on your lips.

But before you can respond, before you can even catch your breath, James shifts beneath you, causing a fresh wave of sensation as his softening cock slides out of your well-used pussy. A small trickle of his cum follows, dripping down to pool between your thighs.

"Stay right there," he says, his voice a low purr that sends shivers down your spine.

"I can take care of it."

[g4yforethan]

can you a do another Nate Jacobs x male bottom reader fic in the same series as intimate? maybe reader and Nate get caught in the school bathrooms by Nate's dad whose looking for him?

RISKY

pairing: nate jacobs x male!reader

summary: it already says it

warnings: cursing, kissing, smut

a/n: i’m so sorry for doin this request so late but here it is!! hope u enjoy :)

5th period was a bore like always. reading a 400 page book, completing essays, and taking quizzes was a routine every day. while on your phone, you got a text message. it was from nate jacobs. you two had been seeing each other for months and had been a while since you two had anything sexual happen. “hey how’s class?” he texted. “boring like always and there’s nothing to do.” you replied back. “well how bout you meet me in the bathroom? i wanna show you something.” you were confused by what he meant. what did he want to show you that he couldn’t wait till after school?

you asked the teacher to be excused to the restroom and made your way to see nate. the bathroom was empty for once and you waited by the door. nate entered and gave you a kiss. “hey baby. so how’s class?” he said as he held your waist and your hands around his neck. “boring i already told you. i rather just stay here with you.” he smiled and kissed you. “oh yeah and do what?” he started grabbing your ass. “haha you know what." you replied back as you started kissing his bottom lip and reaching for his neck. the two of you went into a stall and locked it. you proceeded to kiss nate all the way down to his pants and unzipped it. you looked up at him and he nodded for you to do it.

you took his hard cock and teased him by kissing the tip and putting your hot breath all over it. he moaned and begged for you to put it in and so you did. your mouth was filled with his thick and long dick as he gripped your hair and forced you to take it all the way. "fuck baby your mouth feels so fucking good." his moans filled the empty bathroom as you continued devouring his cock. "put it in me nate." he was taken back by what you said. "oh shit for real baby? you aint scared we could get caught?" you didn't care to respond as you unzipped your pants.

you turned around and put your ass towards nate who slowly entered your hole with his cock. he went slow and soft at first before he started to pick up, gripping your ass and leaving marks all over. "fuck nate it feels so good." he was turned on by your moans and went even faster. he took his hands and put them in your mouth making you suck on them and pull your head back. the pleasure was overwhelming but you craved it more and more. just then, someone entered the bathroom and the two of you panicked. "nate you in here?!" it was nate's dad. you look to nate who tells you to stand on the toilet.

"uh yeah i really had to go to the bathroom." nate said as he walked out of the stall. "well it took you long enough. i've been calling you for the past 10 minutes you're telling me you weren't on your fucking phone?" nate was annoyed with cal as they walked. "calm down alright. i'll be out in a minute. let me just wash my hands." cal left as you opened the stall. "im sorry baby i know we were getting at it." you smiled and kissed him. "it's okay nate. we can always continue later." you grinned and kissed his lips before leaving.

[reidsaurora]

Your event is so cute!!! Could I get a sun kissed Malibu dream house with Aaron?? 🥹 in need of some fluff with him hehe

i am so so sorry this took me so long to write! writer's block these past few months has been kicking my butt. but, thanks to my awesome betas, i think i wrote something you'll like! hope you enjoy!

"Summer Lovin" ~ A. Hotchner

Summary: As the start of summer arrives, you and your friends at the BAU find yourselves feeling a bit reminiscent of the summers before. Along with that reminiscence, you start to miss the days when you and Aaron had little babies instead of big kids…

Pairing: Dad!Aaron Hotchner x Mom!Reader

Word Count: 2,019

Content Warning: lots of talk of babies/pregnancy, sexual humor, kind of fade to black smut if you read between the lines lol, small mention of food, lmk if i missed anything!

Extra Notes: i'm so sorry this took so long, i had a very hard time writing this and def meant to post it sooner. however, in the spirit of my city being under a heat advisory today, this feels appropriate to post 😂

Originally Written: 06/04/2024 through 06/25/2024

Beta Read By: @dungeons-are-too-cold and @virtual-vivi 🫶🏻🩷

Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!

Summer Celebration info can be found here!

Sun Kissed - fluff requests

Malibu Dream House - domestic!au

Aaron tossed off the blanket, letting out a small sigh of relief. “When did it get so hot?” he grumbled, his morning voice prominent. As he rolled over to his back, you spotted a big wet spot on the front of his tee shirt from just how much he was sweating.

Still, you scooted closer to him anyway and tossed an arm over his abdomen, his familiar scent filling your senses. “News said there’d be an excessive heat wave today.”

“It's probably ninety degrees already,” he complained, “and it's not even 9:00 yet.”

Rolling onto your side to face him, you left a trail of kisses along his jawline. “Hey, Mr. Grumpy Gills,” you giggled, referencing one of your kids’ favorite movies. “When life gets you down, you know what you gotta do?”

“It's sweltering! How in the world could you possibly want to cuddle right now?” Aaron ignored your attempt to brighten the mood, instead opting to toss a pillow over his head and groan into it.

You just pulled the pillow away and left another peck on his jaw. “Because I love you. And because our children are gonna come in here any minute to take you away from me.”

He noticed the small pout that followed your statement, the expression enough to soften even Aaron Hotchner, king of stoicism, up. “Alright, fine. I'll allow it. But only because you drive a hard bargain.”

Your pout was replaced with a smirk as you snuggled closer into his side. “Mmm, that means a lot, coming from an ex-prosecutor. Maybe I should've gone to law school with you.”

“You're too sensitive for the big house, or whatever they say,” Aaron snickered. After noticing your look of offense, he quickly covered with, “I didn't mean it in a bad way. You have feelings. It's a very nice thing to come home to after dealing with emotionless psychopaths all day.”

“I think you're trying to compliment me. I'll take it.”

His lips met yours for a quick peck before saying, “I have nothing but compliments for you, my love,” Then, he met you with a second, much longer kiss, and while he tasted like morning breath, moments like this were so rare that you were willing to look past it.

One of his large hands met your leg, his calloused fingertips trailing along your bare skin. It felt like a lifetime since you'd been like this, with two children always needing your attention and the FBI always needing Aaron's. Just a simple touch of his fingers had you forgetting about the outside world, if even for just a moment.

Your lips met his neck, his stubble scratchy against your skin. He'd been away on a case in Seattle for about a week, and you were certain he hadn't shaved the whole trip. You liked it that way anyway.

His hand traveled further up under your nightgown, settling on your thigh. He squeezed the supple skin, a gesture of both affection and want.

“Are you trying to go for number three?” you joked before kissing his neck once more.

“Believe me,” Aaron chuckled, “if I knew I had enough time, I'd certainly try.”

As if on cue, four scurrying feet came stamping across the hardwood floor into your bedroom. “Good morning, Daddy!” both of your children yelled in sync, climbing onto the edge of the bed.

“That's why you're not allowed a third,” you mumbled into his ear. “The ones you have don't even appreciate me.”

“They love you, I promise,” he whispered, kissing your cheek. To the kids, he said, “Good morning. Don't you have anything else you want to say?”

They both turned to you, sheepish looks coming across their tiny, adorable faces. “Good morning, Mommy.”

“That's better,” Aaron said, gaining him a snicker from you. “Now, may I ask why the two of you are up so early and you're already in your swimsuits?”

It was then that you realized he was right. Jack, the older of your children, was sporting his favorite Spiderman swim trunks, while his little sister, Libby, had managed to dress herself in a cherry-print swimsuit she hadn't quite grown into yet. They made your heart melt.

“Daddy,” Libby sighed, clearly exasperated with her father, “don't you know what day it is?”

It happened to be the day your kids hadn't stopped talking about for weeks: the beginning-of-summer pool party you and Aaron threw every year for your friends and his coworkers at the BAU.

Aaron tapped a finger against his chin, his brows furrowing as he thought. “Let's see… it's not Libby’s birthday, and it's not Jack’s birthday, it's not my birthday, and I don't think it's your mom’s birthday,” his last comment earned him a sarcastic look from you. “Hmm, what day could it be?”

You joined in on his little game, tapping against your chin as you pretended to think. “Perhaps it's Christmas?”

Jack narrowed his eyes at you. “It's too early in the year for Christmas,” he said matter-of-factly.

“You're right.” As you continued tapping your finger, you shot Aaron a knowing look, which he gladly returned. He could tell by the gleam in your eye exactly what you meant with that look. “Is it…”

Each of you grabbed a kid, tickling and eliciting little squeals and giggles. “Pool party day?!” the two of you shouted in sync.

Libby thrashed around in your arms, laughing and squirming, while Jack attempted to escape his father's arms. Moments like these were almost as rare as the ones with just you and Aaron, so you had to take advantage of them while you could.

“It's pool party day!” Libby squeaked, while Jack was laughing so hard, he could barely breathe.

Their smiles and laughs pulled at your heartstrings. You wondered when the universe decided to make your babies grow up, since it seemed like only yesterday when you had a newborn and a two-year-old.

Bringing yourself out of your nostalgic trance, you pulled yourself out of the bed, grabbing each kid by the hand. “Who wants to make pancakes while Daddy’s in the shower?”

—

Soon enough, all your friends had arrived and it felt like summer had too. Penelope and Spencer were currently entertaining all the kids, while the other men were crowded around the grill and the rest of the ladies were sitting poolside and working on their tans.

“You ever wonder if either of them will have kids?” JJ asked, nodding toward Penelope and Spencer.

“Spencer, a hundred percent,” Emily answered, like her statement was a fact. “Penelope, I'm not so sure.”

You were next to jump into the conversation, not even bothering to look up from your magazine. “Why do you ask, Jen?”

JJ let out a longing sigh. “It's been so long since we've had a baby around here.”

Putting the magazine down, you looked over to her, eyebrows creased. “Henry's only three. It hasn't been that long.”

“You don't miss having a baby at our get-togethers? Emily, where do you stand?”

“Don’t look at me,” Emily said with wide eyes. “If I didn't have to change another diaper for a lifetime, it still wouldn't be long enough.” She was the one person in the group that was rather indifferent to children, but babies, she'd rather not talk about or be around.

“Yeah, babies are nice,” you said, “but the pregnancy part? That's what I'd rather go a lifetime without.”

“Well, I'm sure there's one thing we can all agree on,” JJ snickered. “At least making the baby is fun.”

Emily tossed the pillow behind her back in the direction of her coworker, giggling all the while. “Jennifer!”

“What?” she laughed as she swatted the pillow away. “Am I wrong?”

You let out a small snicker yourself, shooting a glance in the direction of your husband, who was currently taking his turn in manning the grill.

Neither of your friends missed that look, both their mouths falling agape at the expression. “Spill!” they squealed in sync.

Penelope made her way over from the edge of the pool, her face overtaken by the brightest smile known to mankind. “I heard the ‘Someone has beans to spill’ variety of squeals and giggles. What am I missing?”

“Nothing,” you insisted with an eye roll.

Emily patted the edge of her chaise, welcoming Penelope over. “Come sit, we're gonna get it out of her. After all, two out of three of us are profilers.”

Your eyes narrowed at the brunette. “Do you forget that I also used to be a profiler before my kids came along?”

“Stop changing the subject,” Penelope said with a swat of her hand. “Spill your guts. What did I miss?”

“Well, we were talking about how it's been so long since anyone on the team, past or present, has had a kid,” Jennifer explained.

“And someone looked at her husband with that look,” Emily further explained.

You scoffed. “It was not that look.”

“It totally was,” your friends spoke in sync.

Penelope's face lit up like a child in a candy store, her mind clearly running rampant with ideas of what the look meant. “Oh my God, are you-”

“No!” you quickly interrupted, knowing exactly where that question was headed. “Not yet anyway,” you mumbled under your breath.

The three of them practically jumped out of their seats and gathered around you, all screams and smiles.

“We haven't even had the conversation yet!”

“But you're going to!” Penelope insisted.

You rolled your eyes, but internally, you couldn't be happier for the gift of friendship from these three women. Jennifer, the mom friend in more ways than one. Emily, the voice of reason who not-so-secretly had a funny side and always knew how to make you laugh. And Penelope, the perfect shoulder to cry on and perfect soul to confide in. Lucky didn't even begin to describe how you felt about knowing these women.

Suddenly, you found yourself— as Penelope had said— spilling your guts. “I don't know. This morning just felt… different. Like, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have another baby around.”

The three of them flooded you with comments of love and support, hugs wrapping around you from each direction. Having another baby would be different, of course, but your friends were making sure that you knew it would be a good kind of different.

“I still have to get Aaron on board, so no one get too excited,” you reminded them.

JJ was already way ahead of you. “We've got the kids, Rossi and Derek have the grill. Don't worry about anything out here. You and your man deserve a moment of free time.”

“Just so we're clear,” you said, pointing a finger as if to further prove your point, “we are just going to talk. No funny business.”

Emily snickered. “Yeah, the same way you guys used to ‘talk’ on the jet?” Your cheeks heated to a bright red shade at her comment.

“Ew, Hotch is in the mile high club?!” Penelope practically screamed. Luckily, everyone else seemed too engrossed in conversation to hear her, but you were still mortified nonetheless.

“Okay, scratch what I said. I'm actually going inside to give myself a lobotomy.”

And with that, your friends were shouting in sync different variations of “Have fun!”

Then, with a smile on your face from both the joy of friendship and the love you had for your husband, you found yourself heading over to the grill and pulling Aaron away. His reaction was nothing short of laughter as you practically dragged him toward the house, his shirt nearly coming off with how hard you were tugging it.

Lips met skin as you closed the back door behind you. Aaron let out another chuckle, though he surely wasn't protesting your affection. “Woah, that look in your eyes tells me you're the one thinking about number three,” he commented, referencing your words from that morning.

“Well,” you said as your fingers started to trail under the hem of his dark gray tee shirt. With another kiss to his neck, you continued, “About that…”

taglist: @1234-angelika @lowsodiumfreaks67 @drayshadow @alexxavicry @cordyandbilliehavemyheart @the-lucky-ones311 @mercuryvapours @darkloverfox @sammyrenae68 @cherrycandle @asgardprincess97 @gh0stgurl @esposadomd @randomwriter1021 @eddieharrington @paintlavillered @lavhoes @rhyanishere @danielle143 @handsupforamiracle @ah-blossom @reidselle @dungeons-are-too-cold @louderfortheback @reidsbookclub @cwritesforfun @lover-of-books-and-tea

[haku-s0ultrain]

just requesting literally anything seob related ^_^ super excited to read anything u write in the future :333

overworked

pairings: jongseob x reader genre: fluff, teensy tiny bit angsty, comfort tags: established relationship, seob is overworking himself :(, reader is concerned, lack of communication, petnames, idk lmk if i missed any wc: 973

a/n: this is my first fic please be nice ((´д｀))

you look down at your phone, disappointment and concern weighing on your chest. 

why hasn’t he responded? it’s been a whole day since he left.

it’s not normal for you and jongseob to go more than a few hours without at least texting each other, so not hearing from him for a full 24 hours was unusual. you continue your walk to his company building, shoving your phone back into your pocket. the hot air of summer pricks at your skin, leaving you feeling sweaty and uncomfortable. you pick up the pace, longing for the crisp ac that waits for you at your destination.

realization dawns on you as you recall the conversation the two of you had before he left your apartment last night, the both of you having only had time to have dinner together.

you watch as he puts his shoes on, a playful pout resting on your lips. “i wish you didn’t have to go so soon, seob.” you cross your arms over your chest, looking down at him as he ties his laces. “i know, but i have to get back to the studio.” he chuckles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as he stands up. “there’s a lot i still have to do.” jongseob steps forward, pulling you closer to him and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, resting his chin on your head. you breathe in, wrapping your arms around his waist. he tightens his grip, squeezing you one last time before reluctantly letting you go. he moves toward the front door, opening it and smiling back at you. “i’ll text you once i’m out of the studio, okay?” he steps out of your apartment, shutting the door behind him, leaving you alone. your daydreaming fades away as the sight of the company comes into view. there’s no way he’s still at the studio, you think to yourself, halting your steps as you reach the front door to his company building. you step inside, reveling in the fresh air conditioning as you walk up to the front desk. the receptionist recognizes you as you come in, knowing exactly who you're here to see. all she does is smile knowingly, pressing a few buttons on her keyboard and handing you a keycard. you smile back at her, walking over to the wall of elevators, swiping your keycard and pressing a button to summon one of them to your floor. you step in, pressing another button to take you to the floor his studio is on.

you find yourself at the door to his studio in a matter of minutes, knowing exactly where to go, having been here countless times in the past. you knock on the door and call out his name, waiting a few moments for a response. when you hear nothing you open the door cautiously, peeking in to see your hard-working boyfriend slouched over his desk, tapping away like a robot. you can tell just by his posture that he’s been here for a while, and you carefully approach him, letting the door fall shut behind you. “seob?” you call out, reaching for his desk chair. he whips around to face you, and you tear your hand back at the sudden movement. he takes his headphones off, resting them on the desk. you look at his disheveled state in shock, noticing his bloodshot eyes and dark circles, his caramel hair a complete mess. you scan his body carefully, seeing the same clothes that he left your apartment in. worry creeps into your features as you crouch down to his level. “hey! wha- what are you doing here?” his voice is tired and shaky as he chuckles awkwardly. it's clear that he hasn’t slept, opting instead to overwork himself in favor of finishing before his deadline. “you haven’t been responding to me, love. how long have you been here?” your eyes are filled with concern as you bring your hands up to gently cradle his face, gazing into his soft, tired, brown eyes. 

“since i left your place. so, a while, i think.” his lips turn up weakly, but the muscles in his face are too exhausted to move so his beautiful smile falls just as quickly as it appeared. he chooses to press his face into your palm, instead, closing his eyes in content and sighing. “baby, that was yesterday. you left my place 24 hours ago.” you speak with a carefulness akin to trying to console a toddler. “seob, please tell me you haven’t been working non-stop since then. please tell me you’ve been taking breaks.” his eyes open as he processes your words, his eyebrows furrowing as he thinks. “i’ve taken some breaks, yeah. it’s been a while since my last one though. a couple hours.. i think.” he speaks slowly, moving a hand off of his lap to rest on your waist. “i think it’s time you took one, a much longer one. maybe at my place, yeah? you look like you need a nap.” you watch as he nods slowly and you stand up, turning to his computer. he stands with you, snaking his arms around your waist from behind, slumping his weight onto you. “m’so tired,” he mumbles into your neck, moving with you as you go to save his work and shut down his computer, being extra careful to make sure he has backups of everything before closing out. you move with him still attached to you, gathering his belongings and putting them in his bag.

you peel him off of you carefully as he whines in protest. you hold onto his hand in an attempt to keep him happy as you grab his bag and sling it over your shoulder. the two of you make your way out of the building and towards your apartment, a much needed nap awaiting your sleepy boyfriend.

a/n: okay this is literally so exciting please send more requests this was so fun !! also thank you kisseobie for sending in this request, it helped me find the motivation to actually sit down and write something :))

taglist:

@kisseobie

[ashwhowrites]

Hello, I'm so glad that your requests are open. Could you do steve harrington x reader, where in high school the reader was a nerd but they fall in love. But prom was coming up and he ditches the reader so he could win prom king, which he regrets.

some angst to fluff pls!!! happy ending

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻 very hard to give this a happy ending so I did my best

Prom King

Steve Harrington was the face of Hawkins High School. He was the guy every guy wanted to be and the guy every girl wanted to be with. He had a huge selection of girls to pick from. He always pictured himself with another popular girl on his arm, adding to his popularity. Someone he could win the prom king with, someone who made sense.

But that didn't happen. He fell in love, fucking hard, with the quiet nerd in his English class. She was the first girl to make him forget how to speak. The first time he ever made eye contact with her, he tripped over his feet and landed flat on his face. No one dared to laugh since he was the king, but she helped him stand back up.

He swore when her hand touched him a whole lightning bolt lit him up where he stood.

Months later, they were together. A couple that no one expected and no one knew how it worked. But Y/N had something special he never had seen in any other girl before. They've been together for months, meeting at the start of the year and now it was near May.

Prom was coming around the corner, just a few weeks away. Y/N was growing a bit nervous that Steve hadn't talked about prom at all. They were together, so that meant they would go together, right? She watched daily as girls screamed and cried as their boyfriends asked them to prom. She wondered when it would be her turn. She knew it wouldn't be in a public place, Steve had been shying away. They barely interacted at school recently, but she had all of him once they were behind closed doors. Of course, blinded by love, she didn't see that as a warning.

~

Prom was in a week and Steve had avoided every conversation about it. It was clear to her that something was holding him back from asking, and she was sure the answer was going to damage their relationship.

"Alright, Steve. We need to talk about prom. And we are talking about it now." She demanded as she took a seat next to him on his couch.

Steve felt sweat on his eyebrow. He had been scared of this conversation.

"Why won't you ask me to prom?" It was clear to hear how sad she was and Steve felt horrible.

"It's just...I don't want to go to prom," he lied through his teeth and hoped she bought it.

"Oh, like with me?" she asked, he frowned as her eyes began to water.

"Not like that, baby. Just prom in general. I was never a fan of school dances." Steve shrugged, he watched as she started to believe him.

"Well I mean if it's not something you like, I guess I have to understand that." She sighed, very disappointed. "What if we do something else? Like, have a movie night at my house?"

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," he said, smiling as he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers.

~~~

It was the night of prom, and Y/N was setting up snacks for movie night. She felt sad as she helped her friends get ready, but she was okay to give it up for Steve.

She set up the movie and looked at the clock, Steve was running a few minutes late. She walked to the phone as it began to ring,

"Hello?"

"Hey, baby. I'm not feeling so hot. I think I might rest at home. I'm sorry, but maybe we can do a raincheck?" Steve's tired voice filled her ears.

"Oh no! I can come over and bring you some soup and juice," she said, already planning to run to the store as she grabbed her keys.

"I don't want to get you sick. I'll be fine, baby. I love you,"

Then he hung up. She couldn't lie she felt blown off by him. It was weird for him to be pushing her away. He never missed movie night and never had issues with her helping him when he was sick. She found it very strange but pushed it off.

She didn't want to spend the night alone, so she raced to her bedroom. Her dress waiting to be worn in her closet as she yanked it off the hanger. She felt a little sad when she gave up prom for Steve, but she smiled at the thought of going with her friends.

She got ready as fast as she could and went to the school. Excitement in her stomach as she walked into the gymnasium. The lights and the sound of the loud music mixing with people laughing made her happy. She wished Steve could have been here but her friends would make it memorable.

She reached her friends with an excited scream, her arms wrapped around them as they cheered for her arrival. She gave a twirl in her dress, her friends gushing over how perfect she looked. They were lost in conversation when the teacher on stage called for an announcement.

"It is now time we declare the winners for prom king and queen!"

The students quieted down, their attention to the stage as the teacher tore open the envelope. The students smacked their thighs as a drumroll.

"Your Prom king is..Steve Harrington!" The crowd cheered and clapped. Y/N felt proud of him, and sad that he wasn't here to accept it. As his girlfriend, she felt like it was her place to accept it for him.

She pushed gently through the crowd, keeping her eyes on the floor to make sure she didn't step on anyone's shoes. She reached the front, and looked up.

She froze when she saw Steve walk onto the stage, a big smile on his face and no sickness in his eyes. He looked smug and cocky as he bent down for the crown to be placed on his head. He wore a perfect suit, his hair gelled down and brand new shoes. He didn't just throw this together, he was already prepared.

The realization that he lied made Y/N feel sick.

Steve looked out into the crowd, smiling at all the students who clapped and cheered for him. And then his eyes fell on her and his face went pale.

She shook her head and turned out, pushing through the crowd of students as fast as she could. Steve was quick to jump off the stage and follow after her.

Once she felt the cold hair hit her face, the tears began to fall. She opened her small bag and began to dig for her keys.

"Y/N!" Steve said, panting as he busted through the doors. He was relieved she was still there. He reached forward and grabbed her elbow but she yanked it away.

"Don't, Steve," she hissed, turning around as she glared at him. "What the fuck was that?"

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Steve apologized.

"Really? Because I don't think you give a single shit about me to mean an apology." She scoffed

"I do! I just..I-I" he stuttered, he didn't know what to say and he knew every second he waited, more damage was done.

"Just tell me why!" She exclaimed, shoving him as hard as she could. He stumbled back, his crown slightly moving on his head as he gained balance. "And no bullshit lies. Tell me the truth."

Steve sighed, regret-filled in his bones. "My friends told me I wouldn't win the prom king if I was with you. I didn't want to break up because I love you! I swear I do. I-I was an idiot and told them we broke up. I kept my distance from you in public so they wouldn't know I lied. Then I lied and said I was sick so you wouldn't come. You have to believe me, I'm so sorry."

"You're sorry you got caught!" She argued. Every word he said made her feel like nothing and had her second-guessing every part of their relationship.

"You knew I wasn't popular and you knew that wouldn't change. Yet, you let me fall in love with you? You let me think I meant something and meant more to you than your stupid King Steve image. I don't believe you're sorry, I mean look at you!" She scoffed, "perfect suit and that damn crown on your head. This is what you wanted, you chose that crown over me. You're selfish and scum. But congratulations Steve, you're the prom king, I hope that helps you sleep at night" She spat. She gave him one last glare and broken look, then she turned around and walked to her car.

Steve felt his eyes water as he watched her walk away. The crown on his head felt like it was digging into his skull. He yanked it off his head and stared at the shiny material.

Why was this more important than her?

~~~

Y/N needed a lot of space from Steve, she needed her head clear so she could move on. It was clear Steve was embarrassed by her and his status would remain most important. She didn't deserve to be second place to anything, and especially a stupid high school nickname.

She thought Steve was more mature and grown up, but she was wrong. She got played by a boy and she hated it. She also hated how much she missed him. She missed playing with his hair as the TV played, singing in his car on the way home, and kissing his lips.

But they were broken up and she needed the reminder.

Steve gave her the space she wanted. He made sure to use that time to figure out how he was going to make it up to her. He feels stupid and embarrassed he let himself get sucked into a stupid high school moment. It was one moment in his whole life, something he wouldn't care about once he graduated. But Y/N was someone he would care about his whole life, and he fucked it up.

It had been a long week but Steve finally made his way to her house. He knocked on her window, smiling softly when her face came into view. She rolled her eyes but opened the window.

"What?"

"Can we talk? I brought your favorite!" He said with a big grin, pulling out a bag of her favorite candy from his back pocket.

"This doesn't help your case," she said and snatched the bag of candy. She moved over and allowed him to come inside.

"I wish I had some really good explanation for what I did, something that could make you feel better. But I don't. There is no explanation for hiding you just to win something so stupid. I know I never should have thought for a second the crown was more important, and I made the mistake of realizing that too late, I'm sorry" he said.

She sat quietly as she listened to his words. She felt torn because she loved him but was just so mad at him.

"I'm sorry for listening to my stupid friends. I'm sorry I didn't tell them how in love with you I am. And I'm sorry that I hurt you. I don't deserve another chance, I know that. But is there anything I can do to fix us?"

"Steve, do you understand that you were embarrassed by me? Do you know how that made me feel? It broke my heart. I don't know what to do to fix it, and I don't know if I want to fix us."

Steve gulped as he looked at her. "You want to stay broken up?" He choked out

"I don't know," Y/N shrugged, "I don't want to be loved in only private. I think I deserve to be loved the way I love you. If I forgive you and we stay together, did you learn the lesson? Do you deserve to suffer without me? I'm split in the middle." She sighed, moving to sit on her bed.

Steve walked in front of her and dropped to his knees. He placed his hands on her thighs and looked up at her.

"You do deserve that, and you always did. I know I can be better and love you. I don't want you to deserve better with someone else, I want to be better for you. I want to give you what you need. I learned my lesson the second I saw your face," he spoke softly as he moved his hand up to her cheek. "Can you make me suffer while we try to make it work?"

"I don't forgive you yet, but I'm willing to see if we can work," she said, melting into his hand

"Thank you," he said, moving in to wrap her in a tight hug

She wasn't sure what the future had in store for them, but she loved him enough to find out

[bangchansdirty-slut]

"Would you like another one?"

Paring: Baker!Felix x Bottom!Male reader

Genre: Smut

Summary: Brownie Boy decides to put a little something inside a brownie he made just for you so he can get a special ingredient for his frosting.

More: Masterlist

A/n: I wrote this half-awake today. Also, should I make a fem version of this? Anyways enjoy! And requests are opened.

M/n stepped into the dimly lit bakery, the smell of freshly baked pastries filling the air. It was well past closing time, but Felix, M/n's best friend and the baker extraordinaire, had left a light on for him. The two of them shared a special bond, one that transcended mere friendship; they were practically inseparable. M/n wove through the empty tables, the chairs on top of them, and the counters covered in neatly stacked bowls of freshly whipped cream and sprinkles. He rounded the corner to find Felix in the back, his hands covered in flour, his face beet red from the heat of the oven.

"Hey, Felix," M/n called out, setting his bag down on the counter. "You know you could've just texted me to come back later."

Felix laughed, wiping his flour-covered hands on his apron. "Oh, you know me, M/n. I always like to see you." He glanced at the clock, then back at M/n. "But since you're here, why don't you help me with these cupcakes? I made an extra-large batch today, and I could use an extra pair of hands."

M/n nodded, stepping up to the counter. He loved helping Felix in the kitchen; it always made him feel so… useful. Together, they worked in companionable silence, piping icing onto the cupcakes and decorating them with sprinkles. After a few minutes, Felix paused and leaned in close. "You know," he whispered, "I made a special brownie just for you."

M/n's stomach growled at the mention of brownies. "You did?" Felix grinned, handing him the pan. "Go ahead, take it. I already put it in the oven, so it should be nice and warm."

As M/n carried the pan over to the oven, he felt a surge of warmth in his chest. It wasn't just from the heat of the oven; it was the thoughtfulness behind Felix's gesture. He set the pan on the counter, taking a deep breath in anticipation of the first bite. He glanced over at Felix, who was carefully icing one of the cupcakes, and found himself wondering how long it had been since they'd had a night like this, just the two of them.

Time seemed to slow down as he took a bite of the brownie. The chocolate was rich and fudgy, the walnuts providing a pleasant crunch against his teeth. But it wasn't long before he felt a strange sensation washing over him. His cheeks flushed, his heart raced, and he found himself unable to meet Felix's gaze. "Um," he stammered, putting the half-eaten brownie down on the counter. "Felix, I think you put something in this brownie."

Felix laughed, walking over to stand behind M/n. "You mean the aphrodisiac?" he asked, his breath hot against M/n's ear. "Don't worry about it. It's all natural, and it'll make things more fun."

As the effects of the aphrodisiac continued to take hold, M/n found himself growing more and more uncomfortable. His heart raced, and he could feel a warmth building in his groin. "Felix," he said, his voice strained, "I don't feel so good."

Felix placed a reassuring hand on M/n's shoulder. "It's okay, M/n. Just relax. You're with me, and I won't let anything happen that you don't want." He guided M/n over to the counter and helped him sit down. "Now, just take deep breaths and try to calm down."

As M/n tried to steady his breath, Felix retrieved a bowl from the cupboard and placed it on the counter. "I'm going to help you feel better," Felix whispered, his voice low and soothing. He knelt down in front of M/n and gently urged him onto all fours. "Just like this."

M/n felt a mixture of embarrassment and arousal as he obeyed Felix's instructions. His heart raced, and he couldn't help but wonder what Felix was planning to do next. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that Felix had retrieved a bottle of frosting from a drawer. "Felix?" he whimpered.

Felix smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, M/n. I'm just going to make sure you're comfortable. This will help." He dipped his fingers into the cupcake frosting onto his fingers before slowly, carefully parting M/n's cheeks. "Just try to relax and enjoy this."

As Felix's fingers traced circles around M/n's anus, his touch was surprisingly gentle. He started by just teasing the entrance, using his fingertips to spread the icing that was already there. Then, with a soft moan, he began to slowly push one finger inside. M/n let out a soft gasp, his body tensing up, but Felix continued to move in and out of him, careful not to go too deep or too fast.

With each thrust of his fingers, Felix pressed harder against the spot that made M/n squirm the most. It felt so good, but at the same time, it was almost too much. His hips bucked involuntarily against Felix's hand, begging for more contact. "Felix…" he moaned, his voice barely audible over the sound of their breathing.

As Felix's fingers expertly worked their magic, M/n couldn't help but notice the wet, sticky sensation that was starting to build between his legs. The aphrodisiac was doing its job, and his arousal was growing by the second. He could feel himself becoming more and more engorged, the head of his cock beginning to peek out from the folds of his foreskin.

Just when M/n thought he couldn't take any more, Felix withdrew his fingers and knelt down behind him. M/n felt the warmth of his breath against his sensitive skin before he felt the tip of Felix's tongue press against his entrance. With a soft, wet lick, Felix began to circle his tongue around M/n's opening, gradually easing deeper and deeper. M/n arched his back, moaning loudly as the sensation sent waves of pleasure coursing through his body.

As Felix continued to tongue-fuck him, his hand found its way between their bodies, teasing and stroking M/n's engorged cock. He slowly began to jerk him off, matching the rhythm of his hand with the movements of his tongue. M/n felt like he was about to explode, the pleasure building inside him with each thrust of Felix's tongue and each stroke of his hand.

With a final, deep thrust, Felix pushed his tongue as far inside as it would go, and M/n felt the familiar tingle in his balls that signaled his impending orgasm. He let out a long, shuddering moan as his hips bucked wildly against Felix's hand. His cock jerked violently in Felix's grip, spewing hot cum across the palm of his hand and into the bowl with frosting in it beneath M/n. The release was intense, overwhelming, and blissful all at once.

As the last spurt of cum pulsed from his cock, Felix pulled his tongue away and licked his lips, looking pleased with himself. He reached over to the counter and picked up the bowl, holding it up for M/n to see. "There you go, M/n," he said with a grin. "Your special gift for me." He held up one of the cupcakes with the icing that had been mixed with M/n's cum and offered it to him. "Go on, eat it up."

Still catching his breath, M/n reached out and took the cupcake from Felix, his heart racing. He took a bite, savoring the sweet, salty flavor that was uniquely his. As he chewed, he felt a new wave of arousal begin to stir inside him. He looked up at Felix, who was watching him intently, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Felix smirked and grabbed another cupcake from the counter. He knelt down beside M/n once again and placed the cupcake between his legs, directly against his engorged cock. "Here, M/n," he purred, "why don't you finish yourself off with this?" He pressed the cupcake firmly against M/n's throbbing member, the icing already smeared with their combined essence.

M/n groaned, feeling the familiar pressure building inside him. He closed his eyes and reached down, using one hand to guide the cupcake against his cock. With a sharp thrust, he impaled himself on the cupcake, moaning loudly as the sensation sent shockwaves of pleasure through his body. His hips bucked wildly, fucking himself on the cupcake as he came, his cum splattering against the icing and coating both their hands.

Felix leaned in, capturing M/n's lips in a deep, passionate kiss. He could taste himself on M/n's tongue, the tangy flavor mixing with the sweetness of the cupcakes. As their tongues danced together, Felix reached down and stroked M/n's cock, milking the last drops of cum from him. He continued to kiss him, their bodies pressed tightly together, until they both collapsed in a heap on the floor, breathless and spent.

Slowly, Felix pulled away, his eyes trailing up and down M/n's naked form. "Mmm…that was quite the show, M/n," he purred. "You're quite the talented performer." He picked up the tray of cupcakes and held it out to him.

"Would you like another one?"

[1-800-local-slut]

Back and Forth

Franklin Saint x Black! Fem! ex-gf! Reader

Franklin is that toxic ex that won't leave you alone, you're no better. Franklin and the reader are on again off again but for some reason they just don't work every time.

This is for all the girlies who bounce on business, I would fold for Franklin instantly. This man could be my favorite evil ex, idc. Stand on business tho y'all, Franklin is my favorite fictional liar but best believe I stand ten toes down.

Warnings: allusions to smut, drinking, drug dealing, typical Snowfall violence, season 3 Franklin, smoking weed (stay off that booga suga y'all), mentions of death, toxic relationship, Franklin is also pretty possessive, both of y'all are really jealous, reader is described as a crazy bitch, reader was caught in a drive by in the past, mentioned kidnapping

Request are open <3

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A cloud of smoke streamed from my parted lips, the smell of weed blanketing the car. Tasha and Latisha both scoffed at me after my last statement, their disappointment in me as thick as the smoke filling the car.

"You know he's gonna be right back in yo draws come tomorrow after church, stop playing." My eyes rolled before I could stop them. My brain felt fuzzy and the world seemed peaceful in the dead of night. Passing the blunt to Latisha, she took a deep inhale and held her breath.

'Between the Sheets' blared from the cars radio, adding comfort to my addled brain. Comfort and a slight hint of anger. This was one of our songs, that played while we were under the blanket in his back seat.

The car steamed up that night, similar to the smoke filling the car right now. I had an irrational fear that night that we would shake the car so much that it would roll off the hill we were parked on.

That was before he fucked it all up again.

Latisha was wrong. I was done with his bitch ass this time. This time, I was done playing with him, all his bullshit, his hypnotic eyes, the mountain of lies.

"Girl it's okay, no one blames you for giving into Franklin. Brother's fine." Tasha stuck her tongue out teasingly, which prompted a laugh from me.

Perched on the edge of the back seat with Latisha and Tasha sitting in front, I pulled my sweatshirt over my legs and pressed my head against the window. Latisha gave her a playful smack.

"Oh girl watch out before she do you like how she did Ki and them. Remember how she kicked through that bitch screen door?" Latisha laughed and Tasha cackled. I still remembered how hot it was last summer, when I put my foot through Kira's screen door and ran in swinging. Bitch shoulda closed her front door too but her broke ass couldn't afford air conditioning.

Sure, Franklin and I were technically broken up at the time but what does that matter? Especially after Leon rolled up on Delroy, my 'special friend', and Delroy told me to get to stepping the next time I saw his ass. I know Franklin told Leon to do it too. I don't think I gave Leon any reason to purposely make my life harder.

"Hey now that bitch deserved the ass whopping she got, she could fuck with that nigga all she wanted but how you gonna talk shit about me knowing you can't fight? Let's be serious y'all." It was funny, how she swore that Franklin wanted her over me. After I put my foot through Kira's door and caught her by her tracks, Franklin was at my bedroom window that night.

He was in my desk chair ten minutes later, handing me a box of chocolates that he knew were my favorites. Then he was in my bed giving me some deep, slow strokes that should be illegal. Looking deep into my eyes, pressing soft kisses down my neck and whispering apologies in my ear. Promising me that things would be better this time, that he would be better this time.

He hadn't even looked at her ass since.

Maybe he was over there right now. It had been six hours since he told me it was over, that he couldn't deal with my 'controlling self' and I told him to go ahead and kiss my ass.

Controlling, like he didn't have Peaches following me around all day because he had the slightest suspicion that I might've been considering cheating on him. He wouldn't have that problem if he wasn't ducking me out of nowhere and then when I pressed him he thought it was cute to lash out on me and tell me to get the fuck on.

"Look at her ass. Dick has her stuck." Latisha snickered and I snapped my head towards her. A lazy smile spread across my lips. The smoke stung my red eyes, it was a beautiful summer night and I was planning on getting so high I could shake hands with God, I was with my friends just having a great time. Fuck Franklin, fuck everything.

"If you don't leave me alone." I giggled and stretched back. I could feel it now, and wanted nothing more then to enjoy the feel of the seats under my skin.

It was like I was sinking into a wave of comfort and sleep. And before I knew it, I was floating through my dreams.

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"So y'all are over?" Franklin's eyes were burning into the house phone, his eyes willing it to ring. His long arms stretched over the back of the couch, head facing away from the TV the minute something interesting stopped happening. Leon, as always, had doubts, but as long as he stood ten toes behind Franklin, he didn't really care.

The moonlight casted in on Franklin, his eyes lit by the moon and the TV. Jerome and Louie were cuddled on the couch, while Burst City played from the TV.

"Yeah. She was all over me, I couldn't take it." Finally he turned his head back to the TV and stopped trying to force the phone to ring. A loud noise from the movie, amplifies by Jerome's speakers

"You the only nigga I know who'd be mad about a bitch that fine being all over him." With a chuckle, Leon took a drag of his cigarette. Jerome chuckled and Louie rolled her eyes before she smiled. The way she always smiled when she was with Jerome. The way Franklin's girl ex-girl used to grin uncontrollably when she was snuggled into his side.

"Shit, you fuck with her then." Franklin grumbled bitterly, taking an annoyed sip from his coke. He hated knowing that others could see how fine she was. If it were up to him, she'd wear a potato sack and stay in the house. He'd stay in the house with her too, the two of them together forever. But that just wasn't how things worked.

Why the fuck were they talking about her anyways? Franklin broke up with her, Franklin told her to get lost, Franklin was telling himself that it was over this time. Not just for his sake, but for hers.

Would you believe that she brought out the worst in him? Not his fucked up job, not his dad abandoning him and coming back now that he's grown, no. His ex-girlfriend.

She made him jealous, possessive, down right nasty. Nasty in a way that was different from when he would be pushing into her and could feel her nails dragging down from the nape of his neck. Nasty in a way that was just mean.

Yes, they had their highs. When they were the happiest people on Earth, but when they had their lows they were so low that it might have been in Hell.

"Aye man, I ain't mean that. All I'm saying is you two do this every week." The tension now palpable while they all sat in silence.

That wasn't even true. It wasn't every week, more like every three weeks! Usually Franklin fucked things up, usually by getting annoyed at something (work, her, they hadn't been having sex, he was arguing with his mom or Jerome or Louie or Leon, someone hit on her, she wore something sexy and he knew other niggas would like it just as much, he was hangry) and taking it out on her.

But not this time! This time, they had she started the argument when he came by her house late and she asked him where he'd been. When she came at him with the evidence that he let a stripper toss her ass in his face (which he put a stop to quickly) and refused to tell him who told her, then he got mad. Then she was like 'okay but why did you lie' and obviously he couldn't tell her he went to the club for business purposes because then she'd demand to know why it needed to be a strip club.

According to her, it was just about him lying to her. Which made sense or whatever. He even tried explaining she was the only girl for him and that he only wanted her ass in his face. He even tried cupping her chin and making her look him in the eyes, which usually made her weak in the knees. Franklin just wanted to come over, fuck, have a meal and spend some time with his girl but of course he can't just get what he wants.

So naturally Franklin felt caged and decided to tell her it was over.

"Whatever man, I said it's done."

"Alright then, damn." Easing back into the silence, they both sat and watched the TV. Franklin more so stared, his brain focusing instead her.

Inside he felt shaky, weird. Kinda like how he imagined the addicts he sold too felt without his rock.

She got jealous, but it was kinda sexy how mad she got. How crazy she was over him. Mostly she was only mad because he lied. He could go without lying. He never met to hurt her, just avoid the stress of her knowing he was around strippers and having to answer all her questions. But if he told her earlier that he was going and explained to her that it was for work then he could've avoided all of that all together.

Whatever, it was done now.

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"WHOSE AT MY GOD DAMN DOOR?!" It was 7:00 PM, Saturday night and there was a jumping party that needed me on the dance floor. Yet as I slipped in my earrings, my shorts rubbing against my thighs, someone was repeatedly knocking at my front door. Rather loud too.

As I stormed through my apartment the banging got louder. My apartment was filled with warm colors and the radio I picked up from Jerome's ages ago was humming 'Turn Off The Lights' and it put me in the mood to maybe someone over tonight. Fuck someone who wasn't Franklin.

More banging at the door, it wasn't Latisha or Tasha, they'd just use their keys. A sense of dread hit me suddenly like a car hitting a pedestrian. Being Franklin Saint's girlfriend had put me in two drive byes and one almost kidnapping and now there was someone beating down my door.

My hands found the knife I'd used earlier to rip open a package I'd gotten earlier, small remnants of the cut up box scattered on my carpet right under the coffee table in front of my couch.

Slowly I stepped to the door with my heart thudding around in my chest and the music fading away around me and now I just had to open the door. The knocking continued and suddenly my thoughts cut off by my foot thudding into a box.

A box full of shit. A box filled with Franklin's shit that I intended to drive by his place and fling out the window before never seeing him again. The sweatshirt I stole from him last winter, some cash he left here, changes of clothes, some socks, a bracelet he got me and a bunch of other jewelry wrapped carefully to avoid damage, plus some framed pictures of us. I could only hope he took the same care with my stuff.

The way the box smelt of him made me want to just run back to his arms. It was weird, being without him. But I knew it was for the better, my refusal to go back to him unwavering. As long as I stayed far from him.

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻

Well damn.

There he was standing in her door way towering over her small form. A bunch of flowers, foxgloves and oleander (my favorites he knew that), held in his hand in contrast to her knife which she now knew she could never bring herself to use on him.

He smelt so good that she had to fight the urge to jump in his arms.

Girl don't do it, send him on his way, her brain told her but her heart, like always, wanted to ditch the party and just spend the night laid up with him. Without any of the bullshit, the way things used to be when they could just be happy together.

Her legs on the other hand wanted to split open on their own. His eyes had that effect on her. He could just control her body with a look. What even was it about this nigga, was she that vulnerable to seduction?

Was it his smell? The rich cologne he bought with his new earnings with the slight smell of cigarettes and the night air. Plus the smell of his mommas house. Maybe.

Was it his strong jaw, the dark eyes that tore right through me like the sky being torn open by a gust of wind.

Fuck how the nigga smells, tell him to go. Do NOT let yourself get hypnotized

"You gon let me inside or keep pointing that at me?" That smirk crossed his lips. Damn. I wondered if I had this affect on him? Did I make him weak? Did he miss the sex so bad he was pathetically trying to get himself off every night thinking of that thing I do with my tongue that he likes? Was he damn near humping his mattress without even realizing it? No matter if he was, as sexy as it was to imagine Franklin touching himself to me. He had to go.

With a kiss of my teeth, I extended my arm to block the door way. This nigga could not pass.

"What you want nigga?"

"You."

"You came here to tell jokes? Take your shit and get the fuck on, I got somewhere to be?" A deep chuckle was his response. He had the nerve to laugh, teeth and all?

You can do this, you can do this, tell him to get to stepping

"Yeah I see you going outside looking real good. I just wanted to talk, see if we could get some closure. I promise I'm not gon take all night." He stepped closer, knowing my body would drive me back. Instead I dug myself into the ground, I stepped back then he'd be in my house.

I had to scan him up and down, find some way to even the playing field. Or make him think his seduction skills weren't working but damn they were working.

Remember how he acted, remember the lies, you wanted out

He smiled and looked like the guy I grew up with. The nice mammas boy who would never try to hurt anyone. I knew better, but he looked so...non threatening.

He was standing there, all washed up wearing a black jacket that he knew I loved him in. He held the flowers up in his right hand and knowing that he probably had a gun on him turned me on some how. The danger of being with Franklin always turned me on. Watching him get aggressive with others and knowing in a few hours he'd be taking it out on me.

The music I had playing wasn't helping me not get weak.

I don't know when he got so close that his chest was pressed to mine. He could hear my breathing and probably my heart beat.

Fuck his closure, send him packing

"Take your shit and go." It slipped out as a whisper, a breathless sound.

His face was right in front of mine and I couldn't do anything to stop myself. I should push him out my way and get to that party. Go find some other nigga who couldn't be as fine as Franklin but he would do for now.

"I'm sorry." He whispered against my lips. I could feel basically every part of him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry for getting mad. Baby, please. Take me back. I'll do better. I'll stop lying to you. I'm sorry." He was inside now. Pushed through the door, his body against mine and my head spinning.

"What do I have to do to make it up to you baby?"

"I don't believe you. You always do this, you know your not going to change." I whimpered, my eyes shutting. My brain was fogging, an effect Franklin always had on me. But I would be stronger than this. I had too.

"I swear I will." He planted a soft kiss on my neck and I jumped. He was so warm. He tossed the flowers on to the little table I usually throw my keys on when I come in. Both hands ran up and down my arms.

"I promise I'll change. You don't have to pretend you don't want to come back baby, I'll do better this time. Just let me treat you right tonight, I'll start changing right now." More kisses undid me. I needed to tell him off. But the funny thing was, whenever Franklin and I broke up it was like I could only remember the best parts of him.

Not the lashing out, the screaming, the controlling, the random lies, the secrets. Only the gentle moments, where he held my face and gave me soft kisses that chipped away at me. The gifts that would adorn me when we went out, the way he proudly showed me off, the shopping sprees and little weekend trips, even the normal nights we would just sit around with our friends.

Sitting on his lap where I belonged, on whoevers porch as we just talked (and disturbed the peace of the neighborhood) and passed a blunt around and drank. He always made sure I got home safe afterward, my designated driver.

It was weird. Maybe it was feeling him kissing down my neck and him gently caressing me, but the good memories were just rushing to me. Like water smashing into a wall, slowly chipping away from it.

"I'm sorry I got mad at you. I'm sorry for lying, I just didn't want you to worry. I understand that I hurt you by lashing out and I'm gonna work on that. And you know I'm not perfect, just like you not and we both gon have to work on that. But I want to work on us, and I'm going too do whatever it takes. I'm building an empire and I want you to be right there with me when we make it to the top. It wouldn't be right without you." He was staring into my eyes, staring into my soul and heart and making his way back into both.

"Just one more chance. I promise this time I'll be better." I was never gonna hear the end of it this time. Another kiss, another piece of my self control.

"And if I'm not, I'll never bother you again. You have my word." It wasn't like he was all bad all the time. Standing trapped right next to my doorway, the city howling outside I felt the chill of the Summer night air blowing in from my open living room window. Somehow I was able to find it in me to push him off of me, stepping away into the living room putting more distance between us.

"I'm sick of going back and forth with you Franklin. It's constant with you, you lie for no reason and expect me to just forgive you. Why can't you just be straight with me?" He glanced at his feet, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. He looked guilty but I knew no matter how beaten up he looked I knew the next thing out of his mouth would probably be a lie.

"When my dad started coming back around, I couldn't tell my mom the truth. That I was the one who bailed him out that time. And I have to hide shit from people all the time, because I feel like I know better than they do and how news will effect them." He sighed, coming in and placing the flowers on the little side table next to my door. He ran a hand down his face, and I took another cautionary step back.

"You can't decide for me how things will make me feel. It isn't fair. You demand I tell you everything but it just isn't fair." That's bullshit! Yeah, Franklin had it tough growing up. His dad ran out and what not, but that has nothing to do with me!

He stepped closer in two large steps and took my hands in his. He ran his thumbs over my hands and I found myself admiring how big and perfect his hands were holding mine. Franklin really was beautiful and our everything just went together with pure perfection. If only he stopped keeping things from me. My eyes met his and he looked so..sad.

Sympathy overcame me even though I knew his ass didn't deserve it.

"I know. I know and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't be better for you. But I'm gonna try and do better this time. Imma give you everything you deserve this time. No more back and forth." Crouching, his forehead touched mine and I saw his eyes closed. He always did this, it was like a hug for him. I closed my eyes too.

"You promise?" It came out a soft whisper, and I could feel relief washing over him in waves.

"Promise."

[winchesterwild78]

Please Don't Go

Characters: Dean x Reader

Warnings/Theme: Language, a little angst, fluff

A/N: A short little story featuring our favorite green eyed hunter. Story idea from a reblog by @jackles010378. I couldn’t help writing this. The pictures were too good not to write about. 😂

All work is my own, please do not copy or take it. Feel free to like and reblog. 

*Requests are open*

Minors DNI 18+

Dean Winchester was a force to be reckoned with. He was tough, grumpy, and was known for being a bed hopper. He would roll into town on a hunt, find the bustiest, loosest women he could find and bed them. Then he would be gone. A trail of heartbreak in his wake.

When you met the boys, you were all hunting the same monster and decided to work together. By the end of the hunt you and Dean definitely had some sexual tension. You however, refused his advances. 

Sam laughed as Dean’s jaw hit the ground. “Come on sweetheart, let’s blow off some steam together.” “I’ll pass. Thanks though, Dean.” You sat at the table sipping the beer you had. Dean was frustrated. “Well boys, it was good working with ya. I’m heading to bed. Keep my number in case you need help with another case. See ya.”

You got up and headed towards your room. Getting about halfway across the parking lot you hear Dean, “Hey, Y/N, wait up.” Stopping you turned towards him, “Yes, Dean. How can I help you?” “Are you seriously not going to blow off some steam with me?” You got right near his face, lips inches from each other. You could feel his hot breath mixing with yours. The smell of beer, whiskey and mint filling your nose. 

Your lips ghosted over his, “No, I’m not.” You smirked and walked away. Dean standing in the parking lot, lips quivering and body aching for your touch. He groans, runs his hands through his hair and walks to his room.

The three of you had an adjoining room. You left your side unlocked, and opened as you jumped in the shower. The bathroom door was slightly open.You knew what you were doing.

Dean unlocked their side when he entered the room, determined to break down your walls. He’d never been rejected before and it was driving him wild, you were driving him wild. 

He wanted you more than he’d wanted anyone else. Dean had no idea what it was about you. Maybe it was the thrill of your rejection, or it could be because you were in the life, or perhaps it was the way you looked, cutting off a vamp's head and then got covered in blood. Whatever it was, he knew he wanted you. He wanted you for more than a night, he just had to figure out how to prove that to you. 

When he unlocked the adjourning door he saw your side was unlocked. He called your name as he stepped into the room. Dean heard the shower running and you singing. God her voice sounds like an angel. I shouldn’t be here. She’s showering, but the door was open. Oh shit! The bathroom door is cracked. 

Dean swallowed hard. “Hey sweetheart, are you in here?” He called loudly. You heard him and you smirked. “No, Dean. The shower is just on and the radio is playing. What do you want?” You turned off the shower and stepped out, grabbing a towel. Dean looked through the crack and saw your naked body. His member twitched against his zipper. 

You stepped into the room, with the towel wrapped around you. Dean smirked and ran his fingers through his hair, “I just wanted to talk, but I’ll let you get changed.” “Dean, come back in 5 minutes and we’ll talk.” Dean nodded and walked out. 

That conversation is what led you to where you were today. Three years later and you were still hunting with the Winchesters. The difference, you finally gave into Dean and the two of you have been inseparable ever since. Sure you’ve had your ups and downs, but you’ve always found a way to work it out. 

You love Dean. He is the love of your life. You know he loves you too, but he hasn’t said it yet. Well, not using those three words, but you know he does. He shows you in the little things he does. 

When you’re not feeling well, he brings you your favorite soup, when it’s that time of the month he brings you chocolate and rubs your back, when you cry he holds you tight. Dean might not be able to say he loves you, but he definitely shows you. 

Sam came into the bunker and told you and Dean he caught a case. The three of you loaded up and headed towards Jody and the girls. Sam told you there was a rash of killings and disappearances near Jody and they needed help. It was an all hands on deck situation. 

Dean drove, Sammy rode shotgun, and you sat in the back reading a book. You would glance up and catch Dean’s eye in the rearview mirror. He’d smirk and you’d smile. After a few hours Dean was pulling up to Jody’s house. She came out and greeted the three of you. She offered her spare room and sofa, but you and Dean would feel more comfortable in a hotel. Especially since the girls were there. You didn’t want to traumatize them if they walked in on you and Dean. 

The hunt was harder than expected. You got hurt and Dean was pissed. “What the hell were you thinking, Y/N?! You could have been killed!” “I was thinking about saving that girl. She was terrified and needed help, Dean! You would have done the same thing if you were in that room.” “It was a trap! You were just too blind to see it was. That was incredibly stupid!” 

Sam, Jody and the girls whipped their heads and looked at Dean, then back at you. “Excuse me?! Are you calling me stupid?” “Well if the shoe fits.” He said. You gasped, “I can’t believe you said that, Dean.” Sam stepped in, “Hey, guys, come on. Don’t do this. You’re going to say something you’ll regret.” 

“Stay out of it Sammy.” Dean hissed. Sam, Jody and the girls decided to go inside, leaving you and Dean outside to work out your latest argument. You looked at Dean and he looked at you. Tears filled your eyes. 

“This was a mistake.” “You damn right it was, sweetheart. You should have listened to me. Maybe next time you will and you won’t make a stupid mistake.” Your breath hitched as the tears fell. You felt the rain start and could hear the sound of thunder in the distance. You knew a storm was coming, and not just in the sky, but in your heart. 

“Dean, I can’t do this anymore. I love you, but this, (you motioned between the two of you) isn’t going to work if you don’t trust me to make decisions. I have never questioned your actions on a hunt, but you always question mine.” “Yeah, when your actions are reckless and could get you killed.” 

It started to rain harder. “Let’s go inside, sweetheart. We are getting soaked.” Dean reached for your hand and you pulled away, “No, goodbye, Dean.” You took one last look at Dean and started to walk away. Tears streaming down your face.

Dean yelled for you to stop and come back. You kept walking. He stood there watching you walk away.

Walking into Jody’s house, Sam and Jody looked at Dean who was soaked. “Where’s Y/N?,” Sam asked. Dean couldn’t answer, his heart was shattered. “Dean! Where is Y/N?!” Sam yelled. “She left me.” Jody looked at Dean and shook him, “Go after her! That woman loves you and she brings out the best in you, you’d be a fool to lose her. Go get her now!” 

Dean got up and ran outside. Standing outside he froze, you were walking back up the driveway. When you saw Dean you stopped. Dean stood staring at you, regret and love filling his eyes. You were soaked and your hair was sticking to your face. Dean saw the hurt in your eyes and his heart clenched. The two of you looked in each other’s eyes, saying things your mouth couldn’t. 

You ran to Dean, throwing your arms around him. He pulled you into his arms and your legs wrapped around his waist. His lips crashed on yours, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I love you.” “I love you too, Dean, so much.” After that night, the two of you made two promises to each other, the first was to always talk things out, and the second was to always find time to kiss in the rain. 

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[macfrog]

greetings from austin, tx cowboy like me chapter one

alright hwfg. first part of a dbf!joel series i'm gonna be working on. i hope you guys enjoy 🤍 please feel free to send in any requests or ideas, i'm constantly writing this so would love to know your thoughts!!!! love u all thank u sm for being the best

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: you return to austin after graduating to find everything as it always was. well, most things...

warnings: age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), little bit of alcohol consumption, and lotsa flirtin and allusions to...something more

word count: 2.3k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

The doorbell rings and your dad jumps up. “Ain’t got no cash ready. Be right back.” He jogs off past you down the hall, but your eyes remain locked on Joel, who notices you once your dad’s gone. Or so you think. “Rude to stare, darlin’,” he tsks, bringing his beer to his lips. “Wasn’t starin’.” “No?”

Summer. Texan summer. One of the few things drawing you back halfway across the country to your hometown: bright, sunny, so hot the car bonnets burn your fingertips. It had become a running joke between you and your dad: he’d send a picture of Austin’s scorching sunshine, and you’d reply a picture of New York’s grey skies.

You were ready to come back home.

That is, until your flight landed onto saturated wet tarmac, during the rainiest month of the year. It hasn’t let up in the five days since.

You stumble off the bus into a torrential downpour and throw your hood back up, but it’s no use. By the time you arrive at work, your clothes are soaked through, your hair is plastered to your shoulders, and your mood is worse than ever.

Sal hands you a towel from the back when you walk into the office, but not before giving a hearty laugh from his desk.

“You oughta be gettin’ yourself a car, anyway, lady. Now that you’re back home.”

You give him as sincere a smile as your cheeks will allow. He’s your boss, sure, but he’s also a buddy of your dad’s. Gave you a part-time job for some extra cash when you were still at school, and has taken you back on now you’ve graduated. It’s in your best interests to keep him sweet.

The hardware store is the same as it always was. A little dim, a little dusty; same old tools and same old customers, but homely. You get to work unpacking this morning’s delivery, hauling boxes off of the trolley and filling the shelves. The day passes quickly enough, and you’re folding up empty cardboard boxes to waste the last half hour of your shift when a voice hums from behind you.

“Well, hello, darlin’.”

You stand up straight and spin around to find Joel Miller before you, trademark flannel and subtle-but-still-there smile on.

“Hey, stranger,” you reply, smiling back, before he opens his arms and pulls you in for a bear hug.

Joel Miller. Same as always: tall, rugged, handsome, dark hair and beard singed with grey, warm and sweet-smelling, grumbling, mumbling Joel. His chin rests on top of your head for a second before you pull away, and he looks you up and down.

“Been meaning to come over to see you since you got back, your dad said you were pretty busy unpackin’. Thought I’d give you a few days. Everything alright?”

“All good,” you reply with a nod. “I accumulated a lot of crap in New York.”

He smirks, shoulders jerking a little with a laugh. “Didn’t realise you’d gotten your job back in here,” he looks around, “you likin’ it?”

You shrug. “It’s money. And I know how things are run. Sal’s a good guy.”

Joel nods. “When do you get off?”

You glance down at your watch. “Five minutes.”

“You want a ride home?”

You take a deep breath and breathe out a, “Yes, please,” with a sigh. It’s been a long, damp day.

“I’ll just go grab these,” he holds up two boxes of nails, “meet you outside when you’re done, kid.”

He brushes past your shoulder heavily as he passes, something he always used to do when you were younger. You snort when he mutters, “My bad.”

Joel Miller and your dad have been best buds since, like, the eighties. Your dad has a few years on Joel, but they’re as close as can be. Grew up on the same street, saw each other through girlfriends, marriage, children, divorce. Never one without the other, all that.

Joel’s daughter, Sarah – four years your junior – is a freshman out west, somewhere in California. Another of the reasons you thought it was time to come home: your dad and Joel must feel pretty lonely having both of you gone.

When you’ve grabbed your hoodie and bag and made your way back out front, Joel’s being served by Anna, a girl you went to school with. She stayed here in Austin, has some side hustle selling makeup and perfume. She flutters her eyelashes at Joel as she rings him up. You cringe as you find place at his side.

“Ready?” he murmurs, looking down at you.

You nod.

“How’s things, anyways, Mr. Miller?” Anna asks, even as he’s turning to leave.

“Uh, good, thanks. Good luck with the…makeup.” Then he gives a low grunt and makes for the door.

“Not much of a talker,” you mutter to Anna, and flatten your lips against one another in the form of a goodbye.

Joel’s sat out front in his truck, looking down the receipt.

“Girl charged me for three boxes. If she wasn’t talkin’ so damn much about her perfumes…”

You pull your seatbelt over your shoulder. “Why don’t you go back in there and get your money back?”

“What, and subject myself to her battin’ eyelashes again? Almost blew me off my feet.”

Your head falls back against the headrest with laughter. “You know, you were the first thing she asked me about on my first shift back.”

“I bet I was, baby,” he replies, switching the ignition on and reaching an arm behind your seat as he reverses back.

You spend most of the drive home catching up, telling him about New York and listening to what antics he and your dad have gotten up to since your last visit home. It’s easy talking to Joel, easier than with your dad. He hums and grunts, lets you ramble, tells you what he thinks, then the pair of you fall back into comfortable silence until the next conversation sparks. No judgement, no lectures. Just Joel.

When you pull up in your drive, Joel casts you a meaningful look and says, “He’s really missed you, y’know. We both have.”

“You both have?”

“Sure. Gets quiet ‘round here at times. And with Sarah gone…It’ll be real nice to have you back again.”

“I’ll keep you on your toes, Miller.”

“Holdin’ you to it.”

“Joel? Hey, buddy.” Your dad’s voice breaks apart your conversation and you both turn to see him approaching from the garage. “Hi, kiddo.”

“Hey. Joel came in to get some stuff, gave me a ride home.” You hop out of the truck, and Joel wanders round to meet you.

“Well, thanks, man. You say thank you?” he asks.

You glance awkwardly at Joel, muttering a thank you like some little kid. He shakes his head softly in return, giving you a look that your dad misses, but you understand.

“C’mon inside, I was just tidying up. Stayin’ for dinner, Joel? I bet this girl’s been chewing your ear off about NYC…” Your dad’s voice fades away as he wanders back into the garage, and you and Joel begin to follow.

“Ain’t no need to thank me,” he whispers, leaning into your space.

You nod appreciatively. “My presence is thanks enough, I know.”

He nudges you toward the house.

Your dad orders in pizza and you set the table while he and Joel sit to discuss a potential new client. Joel sits at the edge of the table, turned outward to face the sliding doors, elbow hooked over the back of his chair. As you maneuver around them, placing mats down, you can’t help but note how fucking good he looks.

Tousled hair, unshaven beard. A broadness that even his own shirt can barely hold in; from where you’re standing, you can see where his neck meets his toned shoulders, skin tanned from the sun and the tiniest burst of chest hair over his collar…

The doorbell rings and your dad jumps up. “Ain’t got no cash ready. Be right back.”

He jogs off past you down the hall, but your eyes remain locked on Joel, who notices you once your dad’s gone. Or so you think.

“Rude to stare, darlin’,” he tsks, bringing his beer to his lips.

“Wasn’t starin’.”

“No?”

“Uh-uh. You got a stain on your shirt.”

His brows furrow and his head instantly snaps down to his chest. “Where?”

You snort, wandering over to put his plate on the mat. “My bad,” you whisper, leaning over, “must’ve been the light.”

Joel’s breath wavers only for a second, before your dad re-enters the room and he’s forced to compose himself.

“Alright, let’s see…Pepperoni, bleh, keep that one on that side of the table, please, and plain cheese over here.”

“See you haven’t improved Dad’s taste in pizza,” you say to Joel as you pull your chair out beside his and sit down, cross-legged.

“He – he’s immune to change,” he replies, then, only once he’s regained composure, adds, “or improvement of any kind.”

“Hey,” your dad protests, lifting a slice. “Cool it on the insults, here. You’ve been back six days,” he points a greasy finger at you, then steers it in Joel’s direction, “and you’re the one who turned down Lois last month. Talk about improvement, she could turn your life around, son.”

“Who the hell is Lois?” you ask, mouthful of pizza, aiming for chill, but coming across overly interested.

Joel shakes his head, only looking at you briefly from the corners of his eyes. “Receptionist at Clark’s Plant Hire. And I didn’t turn her down.”

“She asked you out?” Your knee brushes against his waist. He feels it; you know from the way his body tenses.

“She…said she’d like to go for a drink, sometime. I said yeah, maybe…some time.”

“Ouch. Poor Lois.”

He turns to face you now. “Don’t give me the same spiel your dad did, alright? I can decide for myself when I’m ready to be…datin’.”

“Wouldn’t he be nice with a receptionist from a plant hire on his arm?” Your dad fades into the background as you and Joel back-and-forth.

“If you don’t think you turned her down, why say you’re not ready to be dating?”

“Ha! See, my little girl,” Dad waves his slice of pizza around, “she got a degree, Joel. She’s smarter ‘n us. She’s got you on that one.”

“What is your degree in, again? Law?” Joel speaks through his teeth.

You beam back, happy to have riled him. “Film.”

“Film. My mistake. Must’ve felt like I was bein’ interrogated or som’.”

You decide to pull it back then. Enough discussing Joel’s love life – it doesn’t interest you much, not for the right reasons, anyway. The conversation shifts naturally to your degree, your graduation, and the year you spent living in the city afterward.

When most of the pizza is gone, the three of you sit idly chatting; the last Rangers game, the neighborhood barbecue coming up, the weather. Right as your dad voices concern about a job he has next week, his cell starts to ring in the living room.

As hasty and tactless as ever, he jumps up and almost knocks his chair flying. You and Joel laugh quietly as he bounds off in search for his phone.

You turn back to Joel, who’s playing with the label of his beer bottle.

“Hey.” You nudge him with your knee. He grunts in response. “Hey,” you say, clearer, this time pulling your legs up and over onto his lap. “Didn’t mean what I said about that Lois lady. I’m sure you had your reasons, and it’s none of my business. Or my dad’s.”

He stifles a laugh, sucking a breath in until his chest meets his chin. Then he lifts his head to look over to you. “Sorry I snapped. Wasn’t all serious, but I don’t want you thinkin’ I’m mad with you.”

“You can be, if you want.” You lean forward. “Just not for long, okay? It’d be a long summer with just my dad to hang with if Sarah’s gone and you ain’t talking to me.”

This time he laughs. For real. You mirror his swollen cheeks, glad to see you’ve amused him. He puts the bottle on the table and his hands fall to your ankles, where he gently rubs with his thumbs.

“When does she get home?” you ask him.

“Couple weeks. Still got finals and all that to worry about.”

You nod knowingly, muttering, “Rough.”

He gently lifts your legs from his lap and stands, towering over you, your chin inches away from his belt buckle as you look up at him. He doesn’t move, just brings a hand down to cup your jaw and tilt your head back ever so slightly with his thumb under your chin.

You can feel your pulse in your throat. You know Joel can, too. You clench between your legs, an ache forming there, and the only thought behind your eyes is him remedying it.

You bring your hands up to settle behind his thighs, trying desperately to send him a message through your doe eyes. Something in the way the corners of his mouth rise almost imperceptibly tells you he hears you loud and clear.

Your dad bursts back into the room like a bat out of hell, and the two of you spring apart.

“Supplier had some trouble with directions,” he mutters, tossing his cell onto the counter.

Joel grumbles in response, then, like nothing at all out of the ordinary just happened, begins gathering the bottles and gestures to you to grab the pizza boxes. You follow him over to the sink where you set the boxes down and he runs the bottles under the faucet, filling them up and pouring the dregs of beer down the drain.

Your dad’s busy clearing the placemats from the table, babbling to himself about work, when you feel Joel’s shoulder lean into yours.

“Trouble,” he murmurs.

You tilt your head and furrow your brows in response.

“You,” he breathes, “are nothin’ but trouble.”

You smile back at him gleefully.

Trouble, indeed.