#i have school tomorrow but i stayed up to draw this

[ghostorbz]

I bought nasb today

[spamsandsuch]

self reflection (2) preview

[tendebill]

update: i am becoming more and more sick as we speak

[electricpurrs]

its 3 am ask me anything (i am going to pass away from exhaustion)

[boothefanficeater]

sunglasses pro more like. More like cringefail pro amiright guys. *cricket noises*

My favorite guy who didn’t survive parkour prison 💔

[mold-soda]

art app stop crashing challenge

[gutsby]

Wants and Needs

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Joel x Reader

Summary: Bills are high; your dad’s boss wants to help. How you pay him stays between you and him—for now.

Warnings: 18+. Protected piv. Explicit power imbalance in an exchange of sex for money, so dubcon, technically. Soft dom!Joel. Sex toys. Squirting. Oral (f!receiving). Overstimulation. Daddy kink. Age gap. Praise kink.

Note: Bohanan’s is a steakhouse in San Antonio, TX.

Word count: 8.4k

You wanted a car. Joel needed to cum.

It wasn’t the arrangement a girl your age should’ve made, but what could you do? Your dad drank half of your college funds away, and your mom was long gone.

The next best thing was Mr. Miller, your father’s boss. He’d understood better than anyone what money could buy. What it might do. For him, it was pleasure. For you, it was a future—or what little remained after bills and loans and exorbitantly-priced car repairs bled you dry.

You took the job at the firm on a whim. You didn’t want to be a lawyer anymore, though your dad and Joel were. You didn’t want to be done with law school, though 3L had already long since ended, and that dreaded so-called ‘minimum competency’ test was drawing close on the horizon. In short, you couldn’t afford to pay for bar prep.

With Joel, you could.

It was true that tax law paid pretty well, but a part-time job would never really be enough when your family was treading water at all times. Your dad liked to gamble and drink, and your brothers got all of their brains from him.

You got the short end of the stick, plus the receiving end of another. Lucky for you, Joel’s felt pretty good going in.

Today you were somewhere south of Austin. Your truck wouldn’t start last week, so you’d agreed to come along on this business trip knowing full well what you planned on asking your boss as soon as you had a moment alone.

“CDP hearing at…9:45.” You checked the itinerary twice.

“Alright.” Joel nodded.

“Lunch with Javier, Ezra, and Dave at twelve.”

“Mhmm.”

“Phone call with Revenue Officer Acacius at 3:30.”

“For the…?”

“Martells.”

“Okay.”

“I finished Lucien Flores’ Form 433-F for your review and left notes—” You stopped to tap your finger on a short white pile of papers between you and Joel on the desk, “—in the margins. Still need bank statements from him.”

“Lovely.”

Joel eyed the stack at first, but his gaze strayed a little.

“You should probably plan to talk strategy with my dad before Mayor Garcia’s audit tomorrow, too. Looks like a couple non-cash contributions are being disputed now.”

For a second, your eyes flitted up to him, too. It was brief.

“Sure. When’s your daddy free?” he said.

You blinked, then scanned the schedule.

“Looks like five…or six, maybe. He’s got a consult with—”

“I wasn’t talking about your father.”

You looked back up. Joel was smirking, of course. His hand had drifted a comfortable, innocent distance past the papers and across the table, to you. The pair of you happened to be in one of the glass-paneled conference rooms nearest the hotel lobby, so he had to be discreet.

He never let his fingers stray too long on yours in public. Presently, his thumb grazed your knuckles extra slow.

Posing a question, maybe.

You didn’t have the time to be tactful now, unfortunately.

“I need $2,700.”

Joel, your boss, your daddy, whatever, had to pause at that. He didn’t move his hand immediately, but he did stare harder. Longer. He searched your face for the joke.

“$2,700?” he repeated.

“Yes sir,” you answered out of habit, wincing only a little, “My truck stopped running last week, and it’s just…a lot.”

The cost. For Joel, it wasn’t even a drop in the bucket, but in your world, it was a make-or-break, fuck-your-whole-budget-for-the-next-six-months kind of bad. Suddenly, your cheeks felt warmer than they did before, and you forced yourself to look away. Peering out across the wide and gently rolling terrain of San Antonio and trying to pretend there was something thrilling to see. You’d almost forgotten how much you hated asking this.

“I can make the deposit tonight—” Joel started.

“No,” you interrupted. You wanted to turn but couldn’t. You just shook your head and kept staring out there, “Not now, I mean…I need to earn it over time, I just…”

You stumbled over the words. It was like your lips, your tongue, and your teeth were all suffering from the same sort of embarrassment pervading the brain, and you couldn’t bring your mouth to form the sentences right.

I’m not asking for a handout. I need to earn the money.

However ‘earning’ may have been grossly misconstrued in the context, it was a labor all the same. You didn’t love it, but you didn’t hate him, either. Joel was nice, albeit old enough to be your father, and it didn’t seem that he was nearly as predatory or perverse as he could’ve been. You’d been working for him for two months now, and the idea had been your own when the cash had gotten tight.

Back in April, you’d explained to him, calmly, that you couldn’t take the bar exam unless you got some extra money quick. That you wouldn’t accept his charity, but you’d pay him back in other ways. Joel had been against it at first—you were the daughter of his best friend, after all—but eventually, his carnal needs won out over his sense, as every other man would’ve done, you guessed.

At first, you’d started slow, but that hadn’t lasted very long. You fucked him regularly now, though never had you asked for an amount of cash this big out of nowhere.

Joel blinked and put a hand on his hip, like he always did when he wasn’t sure what to say. The silver in his soft, dark locks shone more in this light. He’d lost the smirk.

“You’ve done…plenty.” Now sounding sheepish.

You tried to protest again; Joel stopped you.

“I mean it. Hey, look at me,” he said next.

You did, hesitatingly. You turned from the window, and out of instinct, folded your arms over your chest. Joel paced closer to you and then he was watching. Pausing.

Brushing your arm with his and glancing once over your shoulder to make sure no one else was around to see.

He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your temple.

When he pulled away, your skin was practically ablaze.

“Mr. Miller—”

“Joel,” he corrected, quiet, “And you’ve done enough. Let me cover the car just this once, okay? Sweetheart?”

You didn’t realize you were pivoting again. That your gut was doing somersaults and your heart was ready to climb up and out of your throat. Your neck was burning.

It wasn’t even anger you sensed was simmering under the skin until you turned back to him, and your eyes flashed with ire before the words were even spoken.

“I don’t need your pity, Mr. Miller. I said I want to pay.”

“It’s Joel. And I said you’ve done enough, so—”

Ire morphed to something more in a blink.

You didn’t mean to say it, but you did.

“Fine,” you huffed, suddenly exasperated, “If you’re so fucking opposed to me paying my way for this one simple thing, I’ll get another guy. Forget I asked.”

It was a low blow, for sure. Joel knew how badly you’d wanted this to stay between just you and him—and he would never dream of seeing you ‘earning your keep’ with anyone else. His expression said as much as soon as he’d heard your words; his whole face hardened at once.

But then you’d turned to leave. You didn’t care what he wanted to tell you, and if you did, you certainly weren’t brave enough to stick around to hear Joel say it then.

So you left. He had a full, busy day ahead of him anyway.

You woke up wet.

In an effort to avoid your boss, you’d run errands all day. Buried your nose in a sea of Civil Procedure notes as soon as you got a second alone, almost vomited seeing the Erie Doctrine, and went back to your hotel room to try and study there. Once you had, you napped instead.

Now your clothes stuck to your skin; the sheets around you were soaked. You peered over the big white duvet holding your body interred and saw smoke overhead.

Or steam.

Yes, definitely steam. It was drifting from the bathroom, where the door was thrown open. You shifted up to sit.

“Tess!” you yelled, “Shut the goddamn door, I’m boiling.”

As a law clerk, you weren’t afforded the luxury of a suite to yourself, so you shared it with the other new grads on work trips like these. Tess Servopoulos loved long, hot showers and never closed the fucking door. You groaned.

And, feeling depleted of all energy from your studies and the stress and the steam searing every inch of your skin, you flopped back in the bed. You kicked the covers off your legs. You’d just lifted a hand to wipe the sweat from your forehead, when an awful, fresh realization dawned.

You glanced at the clock—3:37.

“Fucking hell,” you hissed.

You were supposed to meet your dad at two to get some paperwork signed. You needed to have that filed with the court by four. He was probably engaged somewhere else by now, whether it be a client, a conference, or a couple white lines in the bathroom of a partners-only club downtown, and you wouldn’t have a hope of reaching him here. You rubbed your face and groaned again.

You’d set an alarm for 1:30—you knew you had.

Where the hell was your phone? Why was it so warm? What if he’d called? Aw fuck, he’s probably blown that thing up to hell and back by now. Maybe he was drunk. He had to be. Where was Tess? Where were your pants?

You’d made it up to your feet, clumsily, and faced a full-length mirror. Your bottoms were gone. You closed your eyes and screamed inside, remembering why they were.

“Glad you’re getting some use out of this.”

The second you heard it, your lids flew open. You turned.

And, standing in the warm yellow glow of the bathroom light—holding the culprit, your vibrator, like a prize—was Joel. Naked as the day he was born, save for one thin towel around his hips, and grinning. Moisture glistened on his chest and pooled about his feet, and his hair was smooth, tamed, and combed back neatly from his face.

He waved your silicone toy in the air, and immediately, you regretted giving him your room key the other day.

“I thought we agreed you’d wait for me—”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Your voice was thick with sleep. Joel’s own was slow, dulcet, and kind as it always was, even when teasing. When you grit your teeth, he just set the toy aside.

“I’m sorry. Bad timing. I saw your—”

“No.” You threw up both hands at once, suddenly out of breath and fucks to give, “You know what? I don’t care. You need to go. I have to be down at the courthouse—”

In twenty minutes. You cut yourself short and hurried off to find shoes. You could wear other pants. Ask another attorney to sign the forms if you couldn’t reach your dad. Forget that his boss and yours had just caught you with the vibrator he’d bought you last month and try not to feel too humiliated knowing he knew what you’d been doing. It didn’t matter��Joel didn’t matter. You slid on a mismatched pair of slacks and set off toward the door.

Then you had to stop. Joel beat you there, quick as ever.

“Listen. Hey.”

“Will you stop?!”

You pushed at his big and wet, stupidly broad chest. You felt the small grey hairs on his pecs tickle your palms, and for a second, you thought you heard a chuckle.

“You’re gonna make me late—”

“Hey, hey,” Joel said again. Of course it sounded fatherly, “I already signed the POA for Morales, hon, you’re good.”

You’re good.

“You what?” You stared at him in disbelief. How did he even know you needed Frankie’s power of attorney signed in the first place? You figured your dad would’ve mentioned it, but still, it wasn’t really Joel’s form to sign.

“The case is mine now,” he clarified, reading that look, “Wasn’t my first pick, but it is what it is. And your dad—”

Your dad was probably lagging wildly behind on his own caseload, so he’d pushed one off on his friend. Again.

“You can’t keep picking up his slack,” you gritted out, “One of these days it’s gonna bite you both in the ass. You know he shouldn’t be forcing these jobs on you.”

“I offered.”

“You caved.”

“He’s my best friend, what do you expect me to do?”

“Not let him use you! He’s making you feel bad for him.”

“And what if I did? What if I did pity the bastard?”

You scoffed. Then winced, inwardly.

I don’t need your pity, Mr. Miller.

From the look on Joel’s face, he seemed to be remembering the same. He shook his head.

“That’s not…” he trailed off. He rubbed his jaw with his hand and started to move from the door, deflating some.

His other arm extended to you, wordlessly, and already anticipated what was sure to follow. You swatted him off, then walked to the bed. You considered sitting but didn’t. Instead, you crossed your arms like you always did and turned away, facing the window with a cool, flat affect.

By now, Joel knew better than to take that for what it seemed. He crossed the room to you, treading softly.

His voice turned gentle again, like an apology: “Honey…”

But your gaze was already fixed outside. You frowned.

“Darlin’,” Joel continued, undeterred, “Come on.”

And you didn’t need to see his face to hear the rest: ‘Look at me, please,’ with eyes all comfort and warmth.

“Don’t you have a phone call with an R.O. or something?” Briefly, you recalled Acacius and a stream of other items from the checklist you’d covered that morning, and you had to stop yourself then from straying too far. You blinked once, just as Joel was approaching from behind.

“I cancelled,” he said.

You sighed, “Mr. Miller…”

You knew he hated doing that.

“Joel,” he pressed. Adding, “Something came up.”

You wouldn’t even ask. You shouldn’t care. You felt him standing there, fanning hot breaths across the nape of your neck, and you really couldn’t have taken that worse. You visibly tensed, hands balling into fists at your sides, and—hell, he wouldn’t quit moving now, would he?—Joel bent down. He hesitated, as if gauging your reaction in time, then descended further. He kissed your shoulder.

You cracked; it never took much from him.

For all your inane, ancillary plays at feigning indifference, one movement of Joel’s mouth and your resolve was lost. You clung to words, weakly, but all the rest fell away.

“We don’t…want your charity. Me or my dad. Alright?”

“I know.”

Joel kissed your skin again, then pulled at the strap of your blouse. It fell limply away, and his lips reattached.

Exactly when he’d walked you back to the bed, you couldn’t be sure. By the third or fourth kiss, your stomach was tight, knees weak, and your eyes drawing closed; it didn’t matter to you or to him what had passed before. Your bodies found the bed and blended together.

Tangling, in a way. Tearing blindly at clothes and not saying too much apart from Joel’s soft, sweet words:

“That’s it.”

“I know.”

“Good girl.”

Good girl when he kissed you. Good girl when he stripped you bare. Good girl when his hands roamed the broad, naked expanse of your body and let your own do the same to him. Good girl when your fingers hooked the outline of the towel and tugged it away, your vision filled with a sight you’d come to like more and more each day.

“That’s my girl,” Joel murmured. He cradled your head while you gripped his base, “‘S’yours, baby. All yours.”

Yours. Mine. You weren’t sure you had the sense or self-possession to even know what that meant, especially here. Joel wasn’t a boyfriend. He wasn’t a lover, at least not in the traditional sense. He wore dark wool suits like your father and worked from dawn until dusk every day, practicing law for longer than you’d been alive. Still, the smile above you was sweet. It coaxed you gently as you slid your hand up and down his length, like he sensed this was more like a lesson for you. Learning experience.

“Remember, spit a little first,” he instructed. Then, to demonstrate this point, he brought his fingers to his mouth and wet them quickly. He slipped his touch down to yours and met your gaze while he joined you there.

He rubbed and slicked himself up and he did it with ease. You followed his lead and watched his face contort—crow’s feet pinching even tighter at the sides of his eyes as pleasure began to pool in his gut. He looked pretty. You’d never thought to tell him this, but Joel really had an unparalleled face. It was an old and beautiful thing. For this reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to tear your gaze away, maybe to wet your own fingers. Instead, you slipped your hand between your legs, where his hips had come to rest. You worked a slow, light touch against your folds; you were drenched, and it didn’t take long for your fingers to be, too. You moved them back to Joel’s cock.

“Like this?” you ventured.

The man answered with a grunt, at first. Then a grin.

“Yeah. Yeah,” Joel nodded, quiet but emphatic. Trying not to smile too big as he let your touch take over for his, “Just like that, sweet pea. Get it nice an’ wet for daddy.”

You wanted to whimper at that. Something must’ve flashed in your eyes at the intonation of the last word, and the look must’ve suffused your whole expression, because the next thing you knew, Joel was lowering his body to yours. Petting your hair, letting you rub on his shaft as fast as your soft, lithe hands could manage.

“Feel that, baby? Feel how much daddy missed you?”

You did.

Your brow pinched, and you wanted more of that. More from him: those tender, edifying words of praise being mumbled your way while your touch worked him over. Maybe you could’ve helped it, but then again, in this state, maybe you couldn’t—you whimpered for him.

Wriggling your hips against the bed to get your warmth pressed flush with his own, and squeezing him tighter:

“In me, daddy. Please.”

You angled his cock in your trembling grip to plead as much. You knew he liked being the one to push in the first time, so you didn’t move too far with that push, but you begged him with your gaze. You felt him tense a bit.

And just when you sensed he might let you have your way, he moved off. Down. Sliding his torso away from your own, to go lower on the bed, and smirking again.

“I think she needs my tongue first, doesn’t she?”

You wanted to nod. Instead, you flinched. You crawled away from his hold before it could secure itself firmly on either one of your legs, and you had to snag your bottom lip between your teeth to contain that blossoming need. It almost spilled from your mouth in a moan before Joel’s could reach your lower half. Then you scrambled to sit up

“No,” you choked out.

This wasn’t new. While you shook your head, Joel lifted a brow and stood from the bed. He reached behind him.

The night stand.

You closed your eyes.

“This isn’t…supposed to be for me.” you sighed.

In a second, Joel was back where he started, and you didn’t have to steal a glance through your lids to know what he was holding. Slotting himself gently into place.

“Don’t,” he started, sharp, “—say that. I mean it.”

You knew he meant it, but you also knew better than to accept at face value what he said, moving down on you.

This wasn’t part of the deal. Joel’s money was meant to serve his pleasure, not yours. Letting him take you any other way seemed to blur the lines between transaction and affection, and though you’d done this before, it still didn’t feel right. You couldn’t bear having his focus here.

Evidently, though, he could. He’d snatched your vibrator from the night table and lowered his torso to your legs, lips twitching the tiniest bit. ‘Open up. Let me see her.’

Joel was on his stomach, eyes glowing with intrigue.

“Let me see how much she’s missed me, baby.”

The grey matter in your brain might’ve trickled through your ears—the whole thing went to mush at his words. You pushed at his hands, then the top of his head, but clearly, your will was weak. You wanted this. Needed it.

“That’s a good girl. Let daddy have it,” Joel drawled.

You wanted to cry. Or maybe hide. His index and middle fingers prodded at your folds, pulling them apart, and for a moment, you could’ve sworn you’d stopped breathing. Joel kissed the slope of your mound with a quiet kind of reverence. The salt-and-pepper stubble on his chin brushed your clit, and your back arched reflexively. Then, remembering why you’d come to this arrangement in the first place, you felt a wave of guilt supplant that pleasure.

You clawed at his head and shook your own, weakly.

“No. W-wanna make you feel good,” you choked out.

Not me.

Not here.

Just let it—

“Fuck,” you keened through your teeth. Joel’s lips made contact with your slick, drooling cunt and, in a second, sucked your nub in between them. He flicked his tongue.

Joel groaned, then pulled away to meet your gaze.

“Feels plenty good f’me,” he assured you in a murmur. Eyes glossy, “She’s so fuckin’ sweet, honey. So pretty.”

Then, as if to punctuate his point, he slid his tongue down the whole wet mess of your slit, and he moaned. He curled the muscle and invaded your sticky, sensitive, precious warm flesh with vigor and force—maybe a little desperation—and you whined at the feeling. Your toes curled tight. It was doubtlessly a sight to see: Joel’s old and weathered head against your young and supple skin, the wiry greys of his chin rubbing your cunt like no man’s his age should’ve been. He took you gently. Forked his fingers over your folds to hold you open for him and then, over and over and over again, just licking stripes. Squelching noises only seemed to goad him on while he buried his nose and savored your taste without reserve. Your stomach clenched with that pleasure, then swelled.

“That’s my girl—so good for me,” Joel said, as though reminding you, gently, it was okay to relish the feeling.

Once more, he suckled your clit in his mouth, rubbing the tip of his tongue in a quick back-and-forth motion, and the next sensation hit without a breath of warning.

Your belly twisted again, then flushed with hot pleasure.

“My— fuck,” you cried, shuddering with a climax you didn’t know was coming. You held his head and whined.

Joel’s tongue didn’t stop. Your vision blurred. Whatever reprieve you might’ve hoped to find came in the form of his lips drawing back, momentarily, only to sponge little kisses on your still-pulsing heat. Your body jolted back.

“I c— I’m done. I’m done,” you blurted out.

Joel nodded against you. Humming through his kisses:

“I know. Keep going.”

Keep going.

So simple.

Still, you couldn’t breathe. Your sight was inundated with stars. You felt Joel’s stubble on your slit again, only this time, the pleasure was tripled. Your legs trembled, and your hands made fists in his hair. Joel kept on kissing.

And kissed again, again, and again, until your fingers in his locks pulled taut to the roots and your hips were bucking up in his face: ‘Too much, t—oh fuckfuckfuck.’

Then came a buzz. Skirting your legs in a blink, before diving to meet Joel’s mouth on your clit. You shrieked.

“I know, I know,” Joel joined, as though soothing a wound while he maneuvered the vibrator. Lifting his head and then kissing your thigh, “I know. You’re alright.”

You wanted to sob; you felt ready to burst. You trusted Joel’s judgment but had never been subjected to this sort of pleasure. What if it was more than you could take?

“I’m here.”

Joel’s words were slow to crawl off his tongue, but their intent was clear. You writhed once more, and he was kissing your skin, rubbing your thighs, and taking the toy to your clit with a warm, devoted touch. He wasn’t cruel.

He had a glint in his gaze when you met it, like he knew you wouldn’t accept this feeling alone—but he wanted you to. He wanted the indulgence to be your own and an end in itself. There was care in his touch, tender praise with every caress, and you guessed this was intentional. Joel needed you to know this was more than only his.

You felt more naked than you’d ever been: soaking the sheets with your last release, fresh arousal trickling out, Joel’s spit mixing with your nectar and sweat and pressing you down in the bed. And nudging you, gently.

“‘S’okay, baby. You’re alright. That feels nice, doesn’t i—”

“Kiss me.”

It came out faster than you could even try and stop it. You weren’t sure why you said it. The words were acerbic on your tongue—you hated ever sounding needy—but then your mind and your mouth and your worries were all silenced at once when Joel came clambering up for you.

His lips were wet and grinning as he kissed you. He held the vibrator hostage between your legs while his body pressed tight against yours. His movements slowed.

Then, as if he’d crawled in your head and read your mind:

“It’s okay to need me, baby. It’s okay to want this.”

His hips made that assurance even clearer. Joel reached down and took the vibrator again, increasing the friction between your groin and his while he pressed the buzzing toy to your clit. You whined into his mouth at the feeling.

Your eyes rolled back, and the pleasure soared. This morning, you might’ve bristled at the words he’d just spoken, but here, in this bed, it felt okay. It felt safe.

Joel felt safe, for once, and you weren’t sure how to keep that idea from sticking—how to reconcile the notion of swapping sex for cash with a man for months on end, and then this. Your stomach churned. He held your face and kissed you more, and your clit throbbed and ached. Before you could ponder your thoughts a second longer, a white-hot pleasure washed over, and you came again.

“Good girl,” Joel cooed.

Throbbing even more this time.

“That’s a sweet girl. That’s my baby.”

All but aching with desire. Feeling it double.

“Cum for daddy, that’s it. Keep going.”

Feeling it trickle down your legs.

“She’s feelin’ real good, huh?”

You could barely breathe.

You whined. Felt something splinter between your thighs and then more of it, more of you and that slick, oozing pleasure and Joel’s groans, overjoyed—‘Making a fucking mess’a daddy, isn’t she? She feel that good?’—and by ‘that good’ you guessed it was more than normal.

This was more warmth than usual. Somewhere in the midst of your own mind-numbing pleasure, you’d let out a spurt, sticky and wet. It now coated the hairs on Joel’s tummy, and while his skin shone, his eyes were brighter. He flitted a look to you, gaze flaring, and slid down. Low.

Back to where he was before. Moving the buzzing pink bullet aside and letting his mouth assume its place.

Of course, you yelped.

“Joel!”

You winced, both from saying his name and feeling so raw. Joel grinned at the sound and suckled your clit.

It was drenched. You and Joel, too, were doused all over and practically gleaming under the rays of late afternoon sun then pouring through the window. For a second, you cast a look outside like you had before, but it was only to brace your body for the bliss at hand. You stared and felt a crude, carnal shockwave seize you head to toe. It traveled fast and made you release, again, or else just continue the same flow as before—and this time, into Joel’s waiting mouth. He lapped at you feverishly now.

He squeezed your legs and licked you dry. He worked in merciless circles, like his life might have depended on making you stay at this peak. All the while, you were tearing at his hair. Riding his face as your body fell apart.

That was alright. This pleasure was yours for now, but there was still time yet to make it worth his while, you reasoned in a half-intoxicated state. Your legs vibrated as you started to crawl—limp—back up in the bed and, numb with elation and a desperate need to please, you stretched your arm toward the night stand. You huffed.

You reached blindly but got it. The box. Weak fingers found the first plastic strip and tore yourself a square. Then, lifting it to Joel, you ignored the last stabs of pleasure between your legs. This was fun, but still his.

“Go on,” you told him, breathless, “Fuck me.”

Joel quirked a brow. He took the condom, still panting himself. He brought the latex to his tip out of habit, then:

“Yeah? Are you sure?”

“Uh-huh.”

Your head was swimming. Somewhere entrenched in the furthest recesses of your brain you could feel it, that dizzying, self-centered pleasure. You pushed it back.

You suffocated it, and you spread your legs wide for him. You let him lay you down and tug the rubber over his cock, then nudge at your hips to situate himself in just the right way. How he liked it. He seemed to be content, and your heart swelled. In this airy, buoyant state, you felt more at ease to speak, sure that he’d understand.

“This should cover some of it, right?” you panted out.

Joel slowed.

“What?”

You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, eager to keep going. But you steeled yourself, just barely, then.

“Sex. Now,” you said, “It’ll cover some of my car repairs.”

Instead of nodding like you’d expected, Joel only blinked. Then you opened your mouth to speak again, and his body stopped you cold. He planted a hand beside your head on the pillow and raised his hips; you felt his heat leave with it. You reached for his backside immediately, to try and pull him back into that pre-missionary position he’d held, when Joel brushed you off. His face was hard.

“Money?” he quipped.

“Yeah,” you started, then remembered how you talked outside of the bedroom, when he seemed more serious, “We’ll go again. All week. You can even put it in my—”

Joel balked, like you’d just slapped him across the face.

“No,” he said, sharp.

“No,” he repeated, more to himself this second time. Almost as though he couldn’t believe what you were suggesting—and making him guilty by association.

Joel clenched your pillow like a vice and shook his head.

“You’re not getting paid for this,” he finished, and when your gaze penetrated his, confused, he squeezed harder.

“Thought you wanted it.” Joel added, almost shamefully.

“I do! I do…I just—” you sputtered.

“What? Think you need to offer up a week and a half of fucking to make it worth my time? Is that what this is?”

Well, in a way, maybe.

You weren’t sure what to say. Former dizzying bliss was dwindling fast, and now you were facing him cold. Sober.

Increasingly irritated, again.

“I just need money, Mr. Miller—”

“It’s Joel, hon,” he bit back, for the fourth time that day. His eyes flared with something more, maybe annoyance, but then he was tempering it just as fast. He ran a hand through his damp grey hair and shook his head, pausing, “It’s Joel. I know you need the money, baby, but it’s—”

“It’s what we agreed,” you protested, “What I need—”

“Well it’s not what I want!” Joel barked.

Anger surged again, and this time, evidently, the feeling was harder to keep at bay. He was scarcely able to rein in his features, settling on a grave little scowl instead of a frown, and he sucked in shorter, shallower breaths through his nose. You felt him let your pillow go.

“Forget it—the cash.” Joel grit his teeth even tighter, “Forget these payments and the goddamn allowance I’ve had you on. I can’t do that anymore. It’s not right.”

Your heart sank.

You didn’t know what to say.

Luckily, Joel’s voice resumed on its own.

“Whatever you want, whatever you need, sweetheart…”

He stopped. Silence followed, then stretched on for one full, terrible minute. In that interim, you could see his chest rise and fall fast. He was trying to slow it down.

“Whatever you need paid off, I’ll do it. Anything. You don’t have to touch me again. It was wrong of me to allow that in the first place,” he rejoined, tone cooling.

Sounding guilty, too.

Above you, Joel didn’t seem keen on holding your gaze, so he fixed his stare someplace on the headboard instead. Then he moved off your body, slowly.

In spite of the distance he attempted to give, he was still crowding your space. Looming large and bare and weary as you’d ever seen him, knees shuffling back awkwardly through a mass of cotton sheets while his eyes shifted low. Away. The rest of him filled your lungs with a heady cologne scent and your stomach with a thousand tiny blades—you were hurt that he wasn’t sticking to his end of the bargain. You were mad that he was trying to claim the moral high ground now, after everything you’d done.

Mostly, though, you were just upset that you felt like you were losing someone close. That Joel Miller was more of a confidant, friend, and father figure than your own dad had ever been, and that got all fucked up over money. Your lips pursed, and something stung behind your eyes when you reached for him again. Your throat stung, too.

“The reason I agreed to do this,” Joel went on, and the ache in your head worsened when he winced from your touch, “was ‘cause I didn’t want you getting ‘help’ from anyone else. I was selfish. And that’s not an excuse…”

He started to move off, hand dropping from yours.

“…but it’s the truth. I’m sorry.”

At length, Joel found your gaze, and the eyes said it all over again: I’m sorry. You might’ve believed them, too.

But you were you, and you couldn’t help but press:

“Why?”

Your voice was small. Joel was trying to stand from the bed, but you grabbed at his hand again and made him meet your eyes. Confusion was painted across his own.

Kneeling in front of him, curious, you tried to clarify.

“Why’d it have to be you?”

Judging from Joel’s expression as soon as you did, you got the sense that this question made him feel dumb. He frowned, but he held your stare and answered anyway.

“Because I wanted you first,” he replied, “Before all this.”

Your stomach twisted. He did?

You didn’t need to ask twice to know what that meant. What he’d said, in words and with a look, was enough. Still, it was always in you to know more, to be sure, so you crept a little closer. You let your hands roam up and—

“No,” Joel said, as soon as your fingers reached his side.

You’d just wanted to feel him, maybe prod him further on what he’d just said through acts that didn’t require verbal articulation, but he refused. He backed up in bed.

“This isn’t about—” he started, low.

“Sex. I know,” you answered for him. Then your touch grazed his thigh, and you were dying to have more. To be told in a way you both knew and understood. To touch, “You want me to believe you really…liked me before?”

“More than you know.”

There was that blunt, open pragmatism in the Joel you’d always known. Perhaps guided by natural inclinations, or else your hand on his leg, drawing higher. Moving closer.

Showing skepticism through your eyes and the hint of a playful, disbelieving smile starting to curl at your lips.

“When you met me?” you teased.

You’d known of Joel for years, and had met him a couple times as a teenager at various firm holiday functions. You probably hadn’t exchanged more than ten words altogether before starting law school a few years back.

“Hell no,” Joel answered, fast, “When you started work.”

His gaze was timid again. It was fixed on his thigh where you’d started to slide your index up the warm, muscled expanse of his skin, and though you could tell he was more than hesitant, you wanted to know. Wanted to feel.

It wasn’t so easy convincing a man you’d been working for—and fucking, largely without feeling—to pay bills that you wanted him here and now. But you needed to try.

That maybe, somewhere along the way, you’d come to want him, too. That cash wasn’t the only thing at stake.

You crawled between his legs, then straddled his hips.

Your lips smiling still as you did: “How much?”

Joel blinked back. Dazed.

“What do you m—”

“How much did you like me? When did it start?”

Joel sighed when your heat rubbed his. He tried grabbing ahold of your hips, when you glanced down and saw he’d already discarded the last condom. You couldn’t have that if you wanted to continue this talk.

You reached back and grabbed another.

“Darlin’,” Joel said, strained, “We shouldn’t…”

“Says who?”

You’d already worked the rubber halfway down his length when his heavy-lidded gaze locked with yours. You saw lust there, mixed with worry. Curiosity. You kept going.

“Says your dad, if he ever finds out what I’ve done to his little girl,” Joel replied, closing his eyes at the feeling.

You had the latex worked down to the base of him when you smiled. Felt him seize your hips, lids fluttering open to find you in their soft, glossy stare, and you felt better. Like clockwork, you went together and joined, at last. You felt Joel squeeze your backside and groan when you first sank down to take him whole. You shuddered, too.

But you tried to steady your voice as you spoke.

“Semantics, Miller,” you told him, only faltering a little, “Things you are ‘doing’ to his little girl. Not just ‘done.’”

There, you had a point. Surely your father would have had some choice words for his business partner and best friend if he knew how far Joel’s cock was currently stuffed inside your tight, wet cunt. It might even piss him off, if he weren’t too drunk to receive the news himself.

Joel blinked hard, signaling that he knew this too, and presently watched your body swallow all eight inches at once, after you’d raised yourself up to just the tip and sank back. Your ass fell to his groin with an obscene sort of squelch, and your walls involuntarily clenched. You both let out sounds of pleasure, and held on tighter.

Your hands on his chest for stability, while one of his own held your hip and the other fumbled around for your clit, gliding through the sheen of your arousal on his front. You rocked your hips and felt how much it really was—how you’d drenched his whole abdomen with your last release. You smiled at this and stared, pleased with the pretty, sticky display you’d laid bare all over Joel’s belly.

When Joel wasn’t watching you ride, he stared there too.

“Not so ‘little’ anymore,” he mused quietly. Then he looked up to find your eyes, seeing them as glazed as his, “And I ‘like’ you, hon. Present tense. Not just…‘liked.’”

Alright.

“How much?”

You wanted to say it with some confidence. Nonchalance. Then Joel’s cock nicked a particularly sensitive ridge inside your walls, and that thought was gone as quick as it had come. You gripped the flesh of his upper chest and rolled your hips harder. Let out your breaths in little fractured whimpers while you rode him more. Another sweet feeling twisted low in your gut.

With just a glimpse of that, Joel moved his hand from your heat up past your hips and waist, to squeeze one of your breasts. His fingers were wet. You could feel them, equal parts warmth and wanton yearning as the pads pinched your nipple and gave it a firm tug. He grunted.

Clearly, there was more to it than just the touching and feeling for him—Joel’s eyes drank in the sight of your skin as it glistened with the arousal he’d just smeared. He thumbed at the wet, stiff peak and swallowed. And, just as you were about to adjust the rhythm of your hips bouncing on him, his free hand joined the first and pulled you down. You cried feeling his cock wedge deep; your hands fell to either side of his body when he yanked your face down to his. He fucked up into you from underneath

You squealed, soft, “Joel!”

He kissed your open mouth. Made you lay flat overtop him while he fucked your dripping hole. You whimpered.

“Joel—” Again.

“I like you so much, sweetheart,” he said, in answer to your last question, lips close, “Does she like me too?”

As if to save him the trouble of a swift reply in words, your body told him instead. You squeezed around his cock, and with another desperate cry, bit his shoulder. He hammered your poor, aching pussy with a groan of his own, and he held your body down to his. Grinning.

Kissing the side of your head while he pounded away. Stroking your hair, “Is that a ‘yes’? She like her daddy?”

Drool was bound to slip out of your mouth any second. Your lips were locked in a permanent ‘o’ while he drilled from under you on the bed. Still, you managed to nod.

“Uh-huh—oh, fuck, fuck, da-ddy. Yes, daddy.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as another blistering wave seared your insides. Joel was relentless with his thrusts now, driving himself in and out without stopping or slowing. He must’ve known you were close. He was too, judging by the sounds of his grunts and hushed tone.

“Let daddy take care of her then, baby. All of her. OK?”

His words trickled through your ear as sweet as honey. His cock was less kind, but that was okay—you liked it.

You loved him here. Taking care of you. Her. Everything.

And, in this half-coherent state of fuckdrunk pleasure, you were tempted to give in to whatever he begged.

It would be so easy. Joel cradled your face in his hand, practically beaming with pride while he fucked you over and over, and your legs were spread, walls were stretched, eyes practically rolling back, and you felt more secure than you’d been in ages. Joel could care for you.

He rubbed his thumb over your cheek and hummed.

“Daddy’s got you,” he said, voice all warm assurance.

Nudging you closer and closer to your peak—and perhaps some other form of surrender. Release.

Submission?

Joel wouldn’t be so bad for that.

He could fuck you well and leave you content. Make you forget what it meant to be strapped for cash and saddled with guilt and worry over bills every month. Joel could provide, for now. His eyes said as much; his fingers threaded through your hair and rubbed your scalp. He cupped your face, all fifty-six years in his own looking as handsome as they’d ever been. He felt good. He felt safe.

You were hot. Your legs trembled and ached.

“Is that something you’d want?” he pressed.

And, still holding Joel’s gaze with a heavy-lidded, fucked out look of your own, you surprised yourself by nodding, slowly. Your body was spent, but the curve on your lips, then his, was sincere; Joel nodded back as he grinned.

“Yeah? You mean it, sweetheart?”

He flipped you both over and got on top, never breaking apart. You wound your legs around his back and let him cup your cheeks again, and from this angle, you felt it. You wouldn’t try and fight it now; you just kissed him.

Then you came for a third time, walls clenching and squeezing and gushing again, smearing Joel’s front as he fucked you right through it. His groans were a little more subdued than yours, but in their timbre, you could hear his desperation. He emptied himself inside you, in the condom, and kept holding your face all the while.

You felt a low pulse between your legs. Then another. And another. And another. Joel’s hips began to still, his hefty greying belly bumping lightly against your skin while he drained what was left in his balls, and you swore that his bones might’ve creaked from the sheer force of those final thrusts. He seemed exhausted. Somehow, though, the man looked even better in this state—haggard and worn as he was, the face above your own was soft. Smiling, faintly, and kissing you constantly.

You couldn’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it; you were far too tired and fucked out of your mind to protest right now.

Joel trailed a path with his lips from your chin to your ear. He kissed the hinge of your jaw and sank himself deeper.

“Mr.—” But you caught yourself, shortly, “…Joel.”

He lifted his head, not apologetic in the least.

“Maybe just one more—” he started.

“No,” you finished for him, sharp.

Still smiling, but with your eyes on him in a thinly veiled threat. Joel accepted that and kept his dick where it was.

What followed was gradual but natural enough. A little awkward as you broached that uncharted territory of remaining in the other’s presence after the deed was done, but Joel didn’t seem like he wanted to leave the bed, and you had nowhere else to go until dinner with your dad at eight. There was a moment you wanted to separate your body from Joel’s, if only to slip off to the bathroom by yourself, but the man just held you closer.

“You think your old man will mind if I joined tonight?”

Here the fuck we go.

“He’ll kill you.”

You pushed hard against his hold without getting so much as an inch of give. Joel had to fight back a chuckle.

“Oh, yeah? Why?”

“Because,” you began in a huff. Wriggling with very little success in his arms, while you were pinned in missionary, “I smell like you. You smell like me. My dad’s a drunk, but he can sniff stuff like that out in a heartbeat. Too risky.”

You punctuated those words with a still more serious look, but before you could nudge at his chest again or say something more, you were forced to swallow a scream. Joel’s grip tightened even more, and he moved to stand up from the bed—with you still in his arms and impaled on his cock. He started to walk to the bathroom.

“Great. Shower’s got plenty of room for the two of us.”

“Joel!”

“Glad I don’t have to keep reminding you of my name.”

His voice was smug. Your gaze was hard. Joel was still hard himself, amazingly, and you almost groaned when you felt the head of his cock bump somewhere soft and sensitive inside. He toted you into the big, bright room.

“If not tonight, how ‘bout tomorrow? Just you and me.”

He would never stop this shit. He reached for the faucet.

“Still too dangerous. You know that,” you chided. Your resolve only wavered a little when you felt the hot water start to pelt at your back. Joel closed the glass door, “Besides…I need to focus on figuring my shit out right now. Work and bills and getting myself a rental car soon.”

Joel paused. He turned, still holding you.

Then, just as swiftly as he’d stepped inside, he carried you right back out of the shower. You whined in protest.

He took you over to the bed and set you down. He left to find his wallet and keys. You might’ve been tempted to voice your displeasure in some other way—namely, by marching back to the bathroom, locking the door, and bathing alone—but before you could speak a word, Joel was back. He looked down at you and held out his fist.

“What’s—”

“Your dad and me’ll be up to our eyeballs in bullshit working the Garcia audit tomorrow—and I know you don’t want him seeing us leave together anywhere—so we can meet at Bohanan’s at six. How does that sound?”

You blinked.

“I don’t…have a car.”

Joel opened his hand. Keys dropped out.

In a single glance, you could see they weren’t his.

Joel drove a garish Super Duty F-450, not an Audi. The cogs were quick to turn in your head, but clearly not fast enough, because Joel was closing your fingers over the keys before you could breathe so much as a syllable to him. When you did, it came out more like a stutter. Palpably mad but far too rattled to get much out:

“Joel, I-I can’t—”

“I’ve been meaning to buy one anyw—”

“You’re insane,” you started to push the keys back, and for some reason, your heart was thudding extra hard as you did. You went on, unblinking, “You don’t…need to.”

“I want to.”

Joel’s hands were warm when he pressed both of his palms to secure yours between them. He could probably feel the way it shook a little, but he didn’t seem to care. His gaze was too busy trying to find, and hold, your own while you swallowed and stared and racked your numb brain for any words of defiance. At length, nothing came.

All you could do was meet that look. In the soft brown irises above, you could see it all—the need to comfort, and care, and provide where he could, offer better than the hand you’d been dealt and maybe, interspersed with those feelings somewhere, a simpler need in him to give.

For once, you wanted to believe it.

Fun fact: This fic was inspired by true events‼️💯 My life 😫🤪😤😈 Like reader, my truck is also busted as SHIT and needs $2,700 in repairs!!!! Unlike reader, I will not be sucking and fucking Joel Miller to recoup my losses (not asking for donations, just wanted to give y’all a giggle at my misfortune LOL)

[rainyreading]

Hey! I love your Theo fics and I was wondering if I could request a Theo x Hufflepuff, granddaughter of Newt Scamander reader? I think it could be cute!

Maybe he notices her one day minding her business, and one of his friends calls her weird for the same reasons Newt was called weird in school? Whatever you like! thank you!

Weird

Theo Nott x Hufflepuff!reader

wc: 950

a/n: Sorry this took so long! Hope it’s ok.

Requests open

Theo was in the library with his friends. He wasn’t doing any work of course because he was distracted talking with his friends. They were talking about the quidditch match that took place yesterday.

Theo quickly glanced around the library and his eyes landed on you. You were sitting there reading minding your own business. Theo thought you were pretty. He admired your beauty. He thought you were so cute and loved how you weren’t bothered by others.

Draco caught sight of Theo looking at you. He decided to speak up. “You know that’s Y/L/N, she’s weird. She talks to animals and what not. I’d stay away from her if I were you,” Draco warned.

“Maybe she’s just misunderstood,” Theo reasoned.

“Nah mate i’d listen to Draco, she’s a freak,” Blaise commented.

“You guys are mean,” Theo responded.

“Trust us, we would never steer you wrong,” Draco threw an arm around Theo.

“Ok ok I get it,” Theo put a stop to their conversation.

“We are just looking out for you,” Draco explained.

“Yeah yeah i know, let’s drop it please.” Theo grumbled.

Theo and his friends continued hanging out in the library for a little while longer. Theo however was busy thinking about you. He couldn’t get you off his mind. You intrigued him.

After Theo’s friends left he decided to go up and talk to you, despite what his friends told him. You were minding your own business, reading your book.

“Mind of I sit here?” Theo asked.

“Um sure go head,” you replied. You were shy and a little nervous but he seemed nice.

“You’re really pretty you know that,” Theo charmed.

You blushed at his words. You didn’t think anyone noticed you.

“What’s your name?” you asked.

“Theo,” he said with a smile.

“I’m Y/N.” You stuck your hand out for him to shake, which he did.

“I’ve seen you around school, I’ve always wanted to say hi,” Theo began.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I was always too nervous, and now I just thought hey, it’s worth a shot.”

“Well I’m glad you did,” you answered.

“Me too.”

“So what are you reading?” Theo asked.

“Oh this? I’m just reading about the care of magical creatures.”

“Interesting!”

“Really? Cause I find it fascinating.”

And maybe it was the way your eyes lit up or the smile on your face but Theo could have sworn he died and gone to heaven. You were simply stunning and so lively. He liked to look at you when there was a spark of joy in you.

“Forgive me if this is too forward, but would you like to have a picnic at the black lake with me tomorrow?” Theo requested.

“I’d love too!”

“Great!”

——————

Tomorrow came fast. Theo couldn’t wait he was so excited to see you again. He planned out the whole thing. He brought a ton of food and he even got you flowers.

When you arrived at the black lake Theo gave you the flowers.

“These are beautiful, thank you!”

The two of you sat down on the picnic blanket, and Theo started to serve the food. What Theo’s friends might think if they saw him here with you was in the back of his mind, but he tried to ignore it and enjoy this time with you.

“Anything for you.”

You smiled at him, feeling really good about going out with Theo. He seemed really nice and you were excited to get to know him.

After the both of you ate you decided to just enjoy each other’s presence and talk.

“So what do you do on days you don’t have class?” Theo asked.

“Well I like to read, sometimes I go on walks around the castle. Then there’s spending time with my cat. I also like to draw. What about you?” You answered.

“That’s interesting! I usually hang out with my friends. I’d love to see your drawings sometime!”

“Really? I’m not that good,” you shrugged.

“I bet you are,” Theo implied.

You smiled at him. “Maybe someday.”

“What do you read about?”

“Mostly animals.”

“You really like animals don’t you.”

“Well my grandfather is Newt Scamander.”

“Really? No way.” Theo was impressed.

“Yep.”

“That makes a lot of sense.”

“Hahaha.”

“Have you ever gone swimming in the black lake?” Theo asked.

“No I haven’t,” you replied.

“Do you want to swim with me?” Theo grinned.

“Are you crazy?!”

“Come on,” Theo said lifting his shirt over his head.

You laughed at him. You were a little shy but you quickly stripped down to your underwear, ripping it off like a bandaid.

Theo did his best to avert his eyes from your body. You were breathtaking and he just couldn’t help it.

“Last one in is a sweaty oaf.” Theo called out.

You squealed as you jumped into the lake. The water was cold and it felt refreshing. You swam over to Theo.

Theo watched as droplets of water fell from your lashes. Theo went and held your waist.

“Is this ok?” Theo asked.

You nodded.

One hand came and brushed your hair out of you face then rested on your cheek.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” You replied.

Theo placed his lips on yours in a heated kiss. His mouth explored yours. Your lips were moving in sync. When the need for air became to strong you pulled away.

“You are a really good kisser,” Theo complemented.

You giggled, “Thank you.”

Theo was quickly falling in love, and he didn’t even know it yet. The last thing on his mind was what his friends would think. He couldn’t care less about their opinion because he found someone he enjoyed spending time with.

[starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies]

The Princess and The Pogue | J. M.

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Summary: Your daughter comes home from school telling you about a local OBX fairytale. It turns out it’s about you and your husband.

Listen to But Daddy I Love Him for full experience

Requested by @idontevenknowbsblog

A/N: This turned out way longer and more angsty than I had anticipated but I’m a sucker for the angst. I just can’t help it. I’m sorry this took me a million years to finish!

As I am an adult, all characters I write for are written as adults. Any minor characters will be aged up to the general range of their actor’s age.

Warnings: allusions to domestic abuse, controlling parents, forced engagement, so much fucking angst, only kinda proofread

Word Count: 3.5k

~

Your daughter’s tiny feet press against the back of your seat as you head home after picking her up from school.

“Mia, stop kicking,” You laugh, “Mommy’s trying to drive.”

“Sorry, Mommy.” Your daughter giggles. “I’m just so happy today!”

“I’m so glad you're happy, Baby.” You smile at the five year old in the rearview mirror. “What did you do at school today?”

“We got to draw all our shapes today and we sang the alphabet song a bunch of times!”

“Ooh sounds like a fun day.”

She claps excitedly. “Oh and Kylie’s older sister told us a fairytale at recess!”

“A fairytale? Very cool. What was it about?”

“Did you know a princess used to live here? A long time ago. She ran away with a pogue because her evil king father wouldn’t let them be together.”

Your eyes widen at her words, a small smile forming on your face as she tells the story that takes you back to what seems like a lifetime ago.

-

“Mom, I’m headed out,” you yelled through the foyer.

“Ok, hun.” Your mom poked her head over the stairwell. “Just don’t stay out too late. We have that business lunch with the Cameron’s tomorrow and it’s very important that you be there.”

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” you promise, “besides I’m just going to hang out with Sarah.”

“We just love that you and Ward Cameron’s daughter are friends. It looks so good for your father’s business for the families to be close. Especially with you set to inherit the company someday.”

With Ward Cameron being the biggest real estate developer in the Outer Banks and your dad owning the biggest construction company, the two men worked closely on most of their deals. They were also the closest thing to friends that either of the men had. The two richest men in the island made for a powerful team.

“Glad I can help you keep up appearances,” you muttered under your breath.

“What was that, hun?”

“Always happy to help the family.” You gave your mother a forced smile and made your escape, slipping outside and into Sarah’s waiting car.

“Ready to go see your man?” She grins at you and you return the gesture.

“God, yes.“

-

You hadn’t expected to fall in love with JJ Maybank. Considering the very different lives the two of you led it was surprising the two of you ever even crossed paths, but that was one of the perks of being Sarah’s friend. When she fell in love with John B and got involved with the pogues she dragged you along with her.

It wasn’t like you had anything against the pogues. In fact, you had admired them from afar your whole life. Their freedom and adventures were something you envied, forever stuck in your kook bubble. You didn’t have a choice but to follow the plan your parents had created for you.

JJ, on the other hand, hated kooks with a passion. He had a hard enough time with Sarah joining the group and when she brought you in, arguably the even bigger kook princess with the even bigger kook king of a father, he vowed to himself he would never accept you. After all, you represented everything he hated, the life he always dreamed of but would never attain.

He would sneer and call you “princess”, his voice dripping with disdain, doing everything in his power to piss you off, but you didn’t mind. You loved his passion and the way he would do anything to protect the people he cared about. You ignored his insults, treating him just as well as you would anyone else.

Before he knew it, your soft words and beaming smile had softened JJ. He began to actually look forward to your presence in the group, feeling sad when you couldn’t get away from your parents to spend time with them. Then, one day the two of you were the only ones to show up to a pogue hang out. You ended up spending hours just talking and getting to know each other. The rest was history and you had been together from that day forward.

Unfortunately, you knew that your parents would never let you spend time around a pogue, let alone be in a relationship with one. So, like Sarah and John B, you and JJ had to keep your relationship hidden. Thanks to the help of the pogues, the two of you had been successfully seeing each other behind your parents’ backs for over a year.

-

“I’ll be back to pick you up at 8:00,” Sarah reminds you. She pulls up to the little cove where you and JJ liked to meet. “We only have a couple of hours tonight because of that lunch tomorrow. Don’t want our families to get suspicious.”

You nod. “Got it. I’ll see you then.” You slip out of her car. “Tell John B I said hi.”

“Will do.”

She pulls away as you make your way around the rocks hiding the entrance to your spot.

“Hi, princess.” Your boyfriend grins at you in the orange light of the sunset, pulling you into a hug.

“JJ,” You breathe him in, soaking up the comfort he gives you. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, baby. Four days without you is four days too much.” JJ leads you over to the blanket on the sand, sitting back so you can settle between his legs.

“I know. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t get away much this week. My parents are going crazy about this lunch tomorrow.”

“Aren’t they always crazy?” JJ jokes, poking your side. You squirm a little bit, trying to escape his prodding.

“I mean, yeah. They’re just extra crazy this week.” You settle further into his chest, JJ giving up his attack in exchange for wrapping his arms securely around you. He nuzzles his head into the side of your neck. “But, it’s okay because at least we have right now.”

“How long do we have until Sarah comes back to pick you up?”

You let out a sigh. “Two hours.”

“That’s it? Damn.”

“I’m sorry, J.” You look back apologetically, but he just shakes his head.

“Hey, don’t apologize. We just have to make the most of the time we have, like usual. It won’t be like this forever.”

“Right.” You give him a small smile, turning back to face the sunset before he can see the doubt in your eyes. You hoped JJ was right, but you had no idea how things would ever change.

As expected, your time together flew by too quickly and before you knew it Sarah was back to take you home.

JJ was reluctant to let you out of his embrace. “We’re still on for tomorrow night, right? After you finish up with all your kook business?”

“Of course, baby. I wouldn’t miss it.” You give him one last goodbye kiss, distracting him long enough to slip out from his arms. He pouts, but lets you go, knowing if it was your choice you would never leave.

-

You stare numbly at the wall, unable to will yourself to move from your position balled up on the bed. You aren’t sure how long you've been laying there looking at nothing. You didn’t feel anything, having cried out all your tears hours ago. A buzzing sounds from the other side of the room, your phone going off once again, but you don’t pick it up. It’s probably Sarah calling again to see if you’re okay after what happened at lunch. You’re not.

Having sat in silence for so long, you jump when you hear a rattling at your window. It takes you a minute to clamber over to the window with the lights out in your room. You hadn’t realized how dark it had become outside.

You peek out warily, trying to determine the source of the noise. “Shit.” You mumble under your breath as you realize JJ is perched in the tree closest to your room.

You unlatch the door so he can climb inside, turning away from him quickly. You’re thankful for the darkness in that moment as you scramble to make yourself look presentable, flattening your hair and wiping at your face. You pull down the sleeves of the massive sweatshirt you’re wearing, one you stole from JJ months ago, making sure you are completely covered.

“JJ, what are you doing here,” you whisper, “What if someone sees you?”

“I was worried about you. You were supposed to meet me hours ago, remember?” He sounds frustrated.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I totally forgot.” You run your hand down your face stressed. “I didn’t mean to stand you up.”

“You forgot? Y/N, I’ve been calling and texting for hours.” JJ moves closer, but you step back. “I thought something bad had happened.”

He takes another step back. Again you back away, trying to keep him from seeing your face. Brows furrowed, JJ moves towards you again. This time you can’t move away fast enough, bumping your dresser as you try to get away.

“Woah, wait.” JJ takes your face in gentle hands. “Have you been crying?”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” You try to pull away, but he doesn’t let you off that easily.

“Baby, what’s going on? Is it something I did?” The worry in his eyes brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. You shake your head, willing them not to fall.

“No, no. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Something with Sarah?” You shake your head again.

“Your parents?” That stills you. “It is your parents. What is it? Did something happen at lunch?”

You don’t answer.

“Talk to me, baby. I can’t make it better if I don’t know what’s wrong.” JJ’s voice is so sincere and his touch so soft. He really thinks he’ll be able to fix whatever the problem is.

You gather your strength and gently pull away from him, not wanting to see the look in his eyes when you tell him.

“My father and Ward Cameron have decided that it is in the best interest of their respective businesses for our families to be officially joined.”

“What on earth does that mean?”

You feel like you're going to be sick, but you force the words out anyway. “I am set to be married to Rafe Cameron.” You keep your eyes on the floor, waiting for JJ’s response. He stays silent.

“I had no idea they had this planned until my parent’s announced it at lunch.”

“What do you mean you’re marrying Rafe Cameron?” He tries to keep his voice calm. But you can hear the venom behind his words anyway. “You can’t just marry Rafe.”

“I don’t have a choice, JJ. They practically signed my ownership papers over to Rafe right there.”

JJ is pacing your room now, hands constantly running through his hair. “He can’t just do that. You’re an adult, Y/N. Tell him no.”

“I can’t tell him no JJ.” He stops in front of you, the look on his face half shock half anger.

“What are you talking about? You can’t just tell me that your father is marrying you off to Rafe and not even try to fight him on it.” You turn from his intense gaze, unable to handle it any longer.

‘Y/N-” JJ reaches for your arm to turn you around and you flinch back hissing in pain. Your sleeve rides up, revealing a number of dark bruises.

“I tried talking him out of it, JJ. He made it clear saying no wasn’t an option.”

JJ seethes, body tense with anger. “He hurt you.” It’s not a question which is just as well because you have no response.

“I’m gonna kill him.” He growls.

You lay your palms flat against his chest. “No, you’re not. We can’t make this situation any worse than it already is.”

“He can’t just get away with this!” JJ’s voice rises with his anger and you shush him quickly, looking back at your door.

“Please, Y/N.” His voice cracks on your name. “Things can’t just end like this.”

The pain in his words breaks your heart. You let the tears fall freely, unable to hold back the emotion any longer.

“I’m so sorry, JJ.” He cradles your face in his hands like he did at the beginning of the night. “There’s nothing either of us can do to change this.” JJ brushes his thumbs against your cheeks, brushing at the tears. “You should go.”

“No, Y/N.” He has tears running down his face too. “I can’t leave you like this.”

“Please, JJ. You have to go before something wakes him up. I don’t know what he’ll do if he finds you here.”

JJ’s eyes flit down to your wrists, taking in the bruises once more before he nods slowly. He won’t be the reason your father hurts you again. You lips press against his slowly, both of you pouring all the love you have for each other into the kiss.

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips.

“I love you, too. Always.”

With those last words, he slips back out your window, closing it quietly behind him. You watch as he climbs back down the tree and crosses the property. As he finally fades out of blue, you sink down to your floor, your knees unable to hold the weight of your body as it’s wracked with sobs.

-

You don’t leave your room for days. All you can do is lay in your bed and cry, mourning the loss of the man you love and the life you had planned.

If it was up to you, you would never leave that room. Unfortunately, your parents have other plans. They parade you and Rafe all over town, making sure everyone on the island knows the two of you are “madly in love” and engaged to be married in the spring. The whole pageantry of it makes you sick.

The cherry on top of the whole ordeal is the engagement party that you parents planned for the weekend. They rented out the whole club and invited every kook on the island. You’re pretty sure it’s your own personal hell.

Sarah pins one last curl to your head. “Done. You look beautiful.”

You give her a small smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “Thanks, Sarah.” You were dressed in a white sundress that your mother had bought for the party and Sarah had done your hair and makeup to perfection. The whole look was stunning, but you just feel like a trophy being shown off.

Sarah gives you a sympathetic look. “You ready for this?”

“No. But I have to be.”

It takes everything in you to keep a smile pasted on your face as Rafe takes your hand and leads you out to the throng of people. Everyone smiles and hugs you, offering their congratulations. You do your best to seem gracious and excited, but all you feel is emptiness and the faces move before you in a blur.

You make it two hours into the party before you can’t take it any longer. The panic that has been creeping up your throat all night takes hold and you have to break away. You excuse yourself from Rafe, claiming a need to run to the bathroom. He gives you a harsh look and makes you promise to hurry back, but ultimately lets you go.

You hurry away from prying eyes, not letting yourself break until you get inside. Chest heaving, you gulp down air like you’ve just run a marathon. One of your hands is pressed against your chest, the other braced against the walls to hold you up as you stumble towards the bathroom.

Before you can make it more than a few feet an arm catches you around the waist, pulling you into an alcove you had never noticed. You stumble back, trying to pull yourself together, not wanting whoever grabbed you to see your harried state.

“Hey, hey. It’s just me.”

Familiar hands rub up and down your arms, grounding you. You look up to see the blue eyes that you love so much.

“JJ,” you whisper, breaths still coming fast and hard.

“It’s okay, baby. Just breathe.”

JJ holds you close as you will your body to calm, feeling safe for the first time all night.

“What are you doing here?”

“I had to see you, talk to you.”

You sigh, looking at him with sad eyes. “As happy as I am that you’re here, you have to go. If anyone sees you. My father, or Rafe-”

“What if you didn’t have to worry about them anymore?”

“JJ, we’ve been over this. I can’t break this engageme-”

“What if we just left? You and me. Right now.” His eyes bore into yours, willing you to see the possibility.

You can’t act like you haven’t had the same thought yourself, but you just didn’t see how it would be possible. “How would that work, JJ? My father controls my whole life. My money, my future, everything.”

“You don’t need anything he has to give you, Y/N.” His voice is pleading.

“JJ…”

“We can figure it out. You have a degree, I have experience. We’ll get jobs. We’ll make it work.” He reaches a hand into his pocket. “I know I can’t give you a life like this-”

“I don’t want a life like this.”

“-but I will do everything in my power to give you a good life, to make you happy.” He holds up a simple, beautiful band of silver. “Will you marry me?”

You stare up at him with wide eyes. “Are you serious?”

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. Say you’ll marry me. We can leave right now. I have a plan to get us off the island. Your parents won’t know until it’s too late. Just say yes, please.”

“Yes, yes.” You nod vigorously. “I’ll marry you.”

You rip off the gaudy ring currently on your hand and JJ replaces it with the silver band. He kisses you so deeply you think you see stars.

“I love you, JJ Maybank,” you whisper when you part.

“I love you too, Y/N Y/L/N, so much.”

You could stay in that moment forever, but you both know you don’t have time to waste. JJ begins to pull you to a side exit, but you stop him. There’s one last thing you have to do before you leave.

You find a piece of paper, scribbling out a few quick words and titling to your father.

Have fun explaining to the Cameron’s that your daughter ran off with a pogue

Y/N Y/L/N

You set the folded paper on the center table, placing Rafe’s ring next to it.

“Ready to get off this island?”

You grab JJ’s hand. “God, yes.”

-

JJ was right, the two of you figured it out. You both found jobs on the mainland and created a happy life for yourselves. You and JJ got married a few months after you ran off and Mia came along a few years later.

You had kept in touch with the pogues of course and they let you know when your father and Ward Cameron’s businesses had come crashing down, forcing the two men off the island. They had no power anymore, so eight years later you decided to move back to your home. People had gossiped at first, but they moved on to the next big thing when they realized that neither you nor JJ cared what they had to say. You wanted to be in the place where you grew up and fell in love, and you wanted Mia to be surrounded by the friends that you called your family.

Mia was just about bouncing in her seat by the time you got home. You hurried to get her out of her carseat so she could rush inside and see her dad. Friday’s were always her favorite because JJ got off work early and was already home by the time you brought her back from school.

She pulled you along by the hand as she continued on about her fairytale. “The evil king disappeared and they lived happily ever after.”

JJ scooped Mia up as the two of you entered the house, making the little girl squeal in delight.

“Daddy!”

“Who lived happily ever after, Mia-mine?” She giggled as he burrowed his face in her little belly.

“The princess and the pogue!”

JJ’s eyes met yours over Mia, giving you an intrigued look.

“Kylie’s older sister told her a fairytale at lunch about a couple that used to live on the island.” You tell him with a knowing grin.

“A fairytale? That’s awesome, baby.” JJ lowers Mia back down to her feet. “Hey, why don’t you go wash up and Mommy and I will make you a snack.”

“Okay, Daddy!” The little girl runs off happily.

You make your way to the kitchen, JJ coming up behind you and snaking his arms around your waist. “So the princess and the pogue, huh?” He smirks as you turn to face him.

“Who knew we’d become an OBX fairytale?” You reply.

“It makes sense. It doesn’t get much more ‘happily ever after’ than this. Right, princess?”

You give him a gentle kiss. “Right, pogue.”

~

Writing Masterlist

[kayhi808]

First Crush - 6

After the park, all Abby could talk about was her day with Bucky. Even when her eyes were closed, she kept chatting away, past her bedtime. Part of you found it adorable & the other part had you worried. Abby is way to attached for your liking.

Jason was an absent father, but that still doesn't mean Abby didn't miss him or wasn't affected by his death. He died in a plane crash. His daredevil ways that first attracted you to him was the same reason you were alone now. He wasn't brave & heroic, dying for his country or on a mission. He was foolish and selfish, hot-dogging it when he lost control of his aircraft. Most people dropped the subject after you say he died in a plane crash, assuming it was work related. He was stupid. Always chasing the next high. The next rush. He had a wife and baby at home. He should have been thinking of you and Abby.

You couldn't deny the attraction you felt to Bucky, but look at his job. He was an Avenger for God's sake! The bad guys he chases were much worse than your common criminals. The risks were much higher. You were second-guessing you decision in exposing Abby to Bucky. Not that you could truly stop it. Abby was drawn to him at first sight.

*****

"There you are." Bucky enters your office & sits in the chair opposite your desk.

Pushing your lunch to the side, "Hey Buck, did you need something?"

"For the past couple days I thought I'd see you in the cafeteria."

"Sounds like high school," laughing, "I was studying in the library." Bucky frowns at you, "I usually bring home lunch so i eat in my office. It's easier."

Leaning forward, "Well, tomorrow, would you have lunch with me? We don't have to stay here. We can go to this diner around the corner. Their burgers are pretty great." He picks up that you're unsure. "C'mon, doll. I know you want to."

You laugh at his ego. I mean, he wasn't wrong. "Ok."

"I'll swing by around 1p. Is that too late?"

"No, that's fine."

"Then its a date."

"It's not a date. It's lunch." He doesn't say anything, just gives you a look. Its a date.

******

The following night at the gym with Sam, Sam broaches a subject that the others were shying away from. "I saw you leaving with Y/N earlier."

"We went to the diner for lunch."

"So, what's going on with you two?"

Bucky shrugs, "Just 2 friends having lunch."

"MmmHmmm. Do you know what you're doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Y/N's a special breed. She's a single mother. She don't need you wasting her time. You take on extra responsibilities if you start dating her."

"Relax."

"I'm just saying, you can easily find someone else to kill time with. You string her along, she's not the only one you'll be hurting. From what i hear, her daughter is obsessed with you."

"We went on a picnic & lunch. We're still figuring out what this is."

"And that's fine. Just keep in mind she brings more to the table than just herself."

"Ok, got it. Lecture over?"

Sam shrugs and leaves the gym.

*****

"Mama?"

"Yes."

"When am I seeing Bucky again?"

"I don't know, baby. He's very busy with work." You feel a little guilty at how badly Abby wants to see Bucky & you've been having lunch with him everyday for the past couple weeks. He's been dropping by your office with his own lunch to spend time with you.

"Can I asks him? I can draws him a letter." You laugh but stop when you see the earnest little look on her face.

"You know what? That sounds like a very good idea. Maybe you can invite him over to watch a movie & then dinner?"

Abby screams, climbing on the couch to give you a wet kiss on your cheek. "Bucky comes to my house??"

You release a deep breath, "Yes, you can invite him here." She runs off to her room to draw his letter. You lean your head back on the couch hoping you made the right choice.

*****

LIke clockwork, Bucky shows up at 1pm for lunch with you. You slide Abby's drawing across the desk to him. He has a smile on his face even before he opens it. When he opens it, his smile freezes and he looks between you and Abby's drawing. You cover your lips with your fingertips while you watch him, trying to suppress a smile.

"Doll, you're going to have to help me out here. Wh...what am I looking at?"

"What? You can't figure it out?" Bucky is put on the spot. "You're lucky Abby isn't here." You tap the left side of the picture. "What's this?"

"It looks like guts and eyeballs."

"Bucky!!"

"I don't know."

"It's spaghetti and meatballs."

"Oh! Ok. So this is us," indicating 3 stick figures in the middle. "And...I need help again. "This isn't brains."

"Jesus! You're terrible at this. It's a bowl of popcorn. Abby is trying to invite you over for a movie and dinner at our place."

Bucky laughs so hard, he has to rest his head on your desk. "So, I'm not invited over to commit a murder, because I don't do that anymore."

"My baby does NOT murder people! I'm not sure I want you over anymore."

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry." He grabs your hand from across the desk & kisses your knuckles. "Please don't take away the invite. I want to come over."

"Will you be free this Saturday?"

"Yes, I leave next week for a mission, but I'll be here on Saturday."

"Ok," you text him your address. "Maybe 3p? It'll be after her nap & we can watch a movie before dinner."

"Thank you, I'll be there." He give you his charming smile & you have to look away. You hope this isn't a mistake.

Next Chapter

@waywardhunter95 @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @crazyunsexycool @thezombieprostitute @ilovetaquitosmmmm @julvrs @unaxv @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @winterslove1917 @ozwriterchick @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @mrsnikstan @hisredheadedgoddess28 @itsteambarnes @otterlycanadian @enchantedbarnes @purplecolordeer @samsgirl93 @buckitostan

[nonbinary-potatoes]

Prompt: Change 19/10/24 @rosekillermicrofic

Word count: 811

(Was feeling super motivated to write today, but it's not proofread)

Barty would never understand why Evan and Regulus liked the library so much. It was too quiet most of the time, and the room temperature was always too warm for a jumper but too cold not to have one. Still, Barty sat in his seat and doodled mindlessly onto parchment because he'd rather be bored out of his mind in the company of his boyfriend and best friend than bored out of his mind by himself At least there was something to do here, and being alone was always a recipe for trouble when it came to Barty.

"Nice drawing, Bug," Evan muttered softly, looking up from his notes briefly and smiling at the sketch Barty had been half-heartedly working on. There were some basic anatomy sketches, based on the pictures in the book Regulus was working on - some bullshit about healer school prep. But it was fun to draw, and the pictures were pretty cool, especially the ones from autopsy results. Barty smiled, writing an I and a U on either side of an anatomical heart and sliding the parchment towards Evan who took it, folded it, and tucked it safely into his breast pocket on his shirt. "I heart you too," he mumbled before returning to his notes.

"Heyyyyy Junior," an annoying voice drawled out, some blonde girl strutting over the table the three were working at. She batted her eyelashes and smirked, clearly wanting something. Barty recognised her as some hookup from a while ago, Chloe, maybe? Some C name.

"Yeah?" Barty squinted at her suspiciously. She leant over the table the buttons on her blouse undone at the top, showing off far too much cleavage for a casual interaction. She pouted before running a tongue over her teeth and speaking in a disgustingly sweet voice.

"A little birdy told me that you're not seeing any girls at the moment... so I safely assume you're on the pull..." she drawled her words in a particularly annoying way, Barty was coping by imagining using her as a specimen for an autopsy. At least this conversation had given him some insight on a possible future career option.

"Me, you. Hogsmeade tomorrow, get me a drink, and we can come back to my dorm afterwards." She was straight to the point; credit where credit was due. Evan wrinkled his nose but stayed occupied on his notes. A shame, really. Barty would've liked to see him shut her down.

"Sorry, dollface got plans. Can't change em" Barty shrugged her off, encouraging her to quiet while she was ahead. Unfortunately it was rather unbelievable that Barty wasn't actively hunting down someone to sleep with, he wasn't exactly known for his celibacy in the same way he wasn't known for his ability to maintain a longterm relationship. He had since realised that he just didn't get that spark for women. There was never any romance... no desire to make it last the same way there was with Evan.

She reached foreward, walking her fingers up Barty's chest and pushing his chin up to look at her face. It was a rather disgusting plea for attention, attention Barty wasn't going to give her.

"Yeh bitch, we have fucking plans" Evan grumbled quietly, clearly not too please with the attention she was giving Barty but he wasn't often the type to cause a scene unlike Barty who didn't mind putting people in their place. She glanced at Evan and raised an eyebrow. "Who invited you to my conversation? You swot." She scrunched her nose up. She looked a lot like an ugly hare. Somehow, the way she spoke to Evan made her look even uglier.

"Don't talk to him like that," Barty snarled, swatting her hand from his face. He had no shame in punching her if the need arose. Luckily for her, she seemed to get the idea that Barty didn't want her unsolicited touching.

She frowned, suddenly looking much less friendly. Kissing her teeth, she stood up and buttoned her blouse back up properly. "Fucking enjoy your date with your bros" she muttered, gesturing to Evan and Regulus and glancing between them like they were offensive. She leaned close again to whisper "I don't get why you're cockblocking yourself Crouch" spitting the words out bitterly, she gestured widely to herself "what's not to want?"

"The clap," Regulus says before chuckling to himself and going back to his book, clearly proud of the comeback. The girl looked even more offended now, much to Barty's amusement.

"I'll enjoy my date with my boyfriend... and then after that, I'll very much enjoy-" Barty was cut off by Evans hand clasped over his mouth, giving Barty that stern look that easily made him shut up and not even consider talking. He smiled with his eyes and waggled his fingers as the girl stormed off, looking half disgusted and half disappointed.

[starkwlkr]

omg can you write charles reaction to baby leclerc first kindergarten boyfriend and how jealous he would be 🥹🥹

no boys allowed | charles leclerc

in honor of my birthday, here’s one more baby leclerc fic <3

Ruby woke up ten minutes earlier than she should’ve. It was a new school day and she was more excited than ever. While her mom slept peacefully, Ruby was in her bathroom trying to untangle her hair, but each time she would end up with a knot in it. She gave up and ran to her mom and dad’s room with a brush stuck in her hair.

“Mama, I need help. Mama, wake up.” Ruby poked Y/n’s cheek repeatedly until her eyes fluttered open.

“Baby, what? What’s wrong?” Y/n rubbed her tired eyes. She then saw the mess on Ruby’s head. “Oh, baby girl.”

Y/n was alone with the kids since Charles was coming back from Italy for his home race. Mathéo slept in his nursery. Y/n got out of bed and took Ruby to her bathroom to fix the tangled hair.

“Why did you do this, Ruby?” The mother asked.

“Because I want to look pretty for my boyfriend!”

Y/n choked on her own saliva when she heard Ruby mention the word ‘boyfriend’. “When did this happen, Rubes? Does papa know?”

Of course Charles didn’t know. If he did, he would immediately change Ruby to a different school. Even if it was a pretend boyfriend, Ruby was still too young to be thinking about boys in his eyes. Thank god Charles wasn’t home.

“Yesterday he told me he loves me. Papa doesn’t know . . Yet! Can I tell him?” Ruby jumped up and down, eager to tell her papa about her love life.

“Not right now, baby. He’s working. But you can tell me all about him. What’s his name?” Y/n asked as she continued to brush through Ruby’s hair.

“His name is Ben and we’re getting married! Can you be my flower girl, mama? And uncle arthur can give us a ring.” Ruby said. “I want uncle pierre and kika to be at my wedding. I love Kika.”

Y/n chuckled. Ruby reminded Y/n of a younger version of herself, planning out her dream wedding, not having a single stressful moment. Y/n wished her Ruby would stay little forever.

“Okay, all done. Go get dressed, I have to get your brother ready.” Y/n pressed a kiss to the top of Ruby’s head and watched as the little girl ran off to her room. Before Y/n walked to Mathéo’s nursery, she grabbed her phone and texted Charles.

Y/n

Good morning my love. I’m going to take Ruby to school and when you get home, I have news to tell you. It’s important.

Charles

Good morning mon amour❤️ tell Ruby I love her and I miss her. Are you not going to give me a hint? I can’t wait that long

Y/n

Well it’s about our daughter. That’s all I’m telling you.

Charles

You’re an evil woman

I love you ❤️

Y/n

Love you more 🥰

She left her phone on her nightstand and walked to Mathéo’s room where he was not laying awake staring at the ceiling. “Good morning my little boy. Let’s get you ready for the day.”

After both kids were dressed, the Leclerc family was on their way to school. Ruby kept telling her mother about Ben and how good he was at drawing, counting from 1 to 100 and apparently he knew about f1 because of his dad. The school wasn’t that far away from their home so they walked.

“When is papa coming home?” Ruby asked.

“He should be here tomorrow or maybe even today.” Replied Y/n. Mathéo squealed from his spot in his stroller. “You’re exiting to see papa, Théo? He misses you too.”

“I can tell him about Ben! Can Ben come to the race with us? Please mama!” Ruby stopped walking to face her mother.

“I don’t know, Ruby. We have to talk to his parents first.”

When Ruby got to school, she refused to set foot into the classroom until Ben arrived. Five minutes later, a little boy with a Ferrari cap on ran towards Ruby and hugged her.

“Ben! Don’t run! You’ve tripped enough already!” A woman about Y/n’s age scolded the boy.

“Mama! He’s Ben, my boyfriend!” Ruby yelled as Ben put his arm around her shoulder.

“Nice to meet you Ben. I’m Ruby’s mom.” Y/n said to the little boy.

“So I guess we’re in laws?” Ben’s mom laughed. “I’m Clara, Ben’s mom. I’ve heard so many things about your little girl. Were you invited to their ‘wedding’?” Clara asked.

Y/n nodded. “You’re looking at the flower girl.” She joked.

“I’m jealous, Ben told me I have to pay for the whole thing!”

After school, Pascale, Lorenzo and Arthur would always arrive at Y/n and Charles’ house just to spend time together. Ruby absolutely loved it. This time, Charles joined since he had taken an early flight from Italy so when he got home, he found Ruby and Arthur doing some crafts on the kitchen table while Pascale, Y/n and Lorenzo were with Baby Mathéo in the living room.

“Papa!” Ruby threw her crayon on the table and ran to Charles.

Charles let his suitcase fall to the ground. He wrapped his arms around Ruby and picked her up, spinning her a couple time as she laughed. “You didn’t cause any trouble, did you?” He kissed her cheek.

“No! I’m a very good girl. Ask mama and Théo!” Ruby giggled.

“Okay, I’ll ask them right now.” Charles set her down and turned his attention to the rest of his family. “How was my boy while I was gone? Was Ruby good?” He sat next to Y/n on the sofa.

“He didn’t cry at night often, but he did miss his papa a lot.” Y/n passed the baby to Charles. “And yes, she was an angel.”

“Just him and Ruby missed me?” Charles teased.

“I missed you!” Arthur spoke from the kitchen table.

“Anyone else missed me? Anybody?” Charles looked around, ignoring Arthur. “I’m kidding, I missed all of you.”

“Oh! The news! Ruby, want to tell papa now?” Y/n prepared herself for Charles’ reaction. Everyone did.

“What news, Ruby?”

“I have a boyfriend!”

“Mon amour, grab Théo please.”

Y/n took the baby from Charles’ arms and watched his confused face.

“Baby, you can’t have a boyfriend.” Charles said to Ruby. “You’re too young and he is too.”

“But I already made him a card! Uncle Arthur is helping me!” Ruby pointed at Arthur, who immediately dropped the marker from his hands and froze.

“Arthur! Why are you helping my daughter make a card for a boy?!”

“She didn’t tell me it was for her boyfriend.” Arthur defended himself.

“Yes I did. I said ‘uncle arthur can you help me make a card for my boyfriend?’ and you said yes.” Ruby innocently said.

“I thought she was joking.”

Charles shook his head. He knew it wasn’t a real relationship but he still didn’t like the idea of his little girl already thinking about boys and relationships.

“And you haven’t even heard the best part yet. They’re getting married.” Lorenzo added followed by a loud laugh.

“No one is getting married!” Charles announced.

“So you and mama aren’t getting married?” Ruby asked.

“We are married, baby.” Y/n said confused.

“But Ben’s parents got married two times. He told me.”

“So his name is Ben. Where does he live?” Charles asked and before Ruby could answer, Pascale hit his arm. “Maman! This Ben can’t date my daughter!”

“They’re kids, Charles.” Pascale said, bringing in her granddaughter for a hug.

“You’re telling me you’ve never had a girlfriend when you were a little kid?” Y/n asked Charles. Not that he could remember, no he never did that.

“And you had a boyfriend when you were little?” Charles rolled his eyes, and watched Y/n stay silent. “No, someone was your boyfriend before me?!”

“This isn’t about me, now excuse me I have to practice my flower girl skills before the big wedding.”

[a-ikuoliver]

w/c: 2.4k tw/s: f!reader, alcohol, underage drinking, characters 17/18 (high school grad age lmao), emotionally neglectful parents notes: so incredibly selfship coded sorrynotsorry i need him in ways i cannot describe, thank u my loves @t-tomuras & @heartsyougave for always helping me i will love u in every life mwah + archive link if you prefer <3

you were a good baby. your mother had gone on and on about it when speaking to your family, their sweet coos of how adorable you were was always followed by how easy you were. no colic, hardly ever sick (your mothers favourite fact that you'd started sleeping through the night before any of the other kids in her mama & me group), the happiest, giddiest baby if the photos decorating the house were anything to go by; pictures of you giggling in the sink for a bath, babbling while you crawled through the house, squealing with two tiny teeth poking out of your gums when you'd play with your animal blocks.

you were a good child. your parents bragging to their friends about you constantly; not clingy, not whiny, so independent. every report card was a testament to your friendliness, your teachers gushing about how well you played, well-behaved, quiet, how they always trusted you to stay attentive as the rowdier kids tugged at your belongings.

you were a good teenager. quiet. reserved. smart.

relaxed. easy. unbothered.

the kind your parents friends adored.

the kind of teenager that didn't kick up a fuss when they'd forget to pick you up after school, or when your hobbies were brushed aside, or even when they told you they'd booked a trip, only two weeks long they assured you, promising you'd be okay without them. you were a good teenager, you'd be able to take care of yourself.

in return, you reassure them, too, you'll be okay. you'll be good. you'll make smart decisions.

you don't kick up a fuss, don't even mention your graduation date, right in the centre of their trip, when your parents will be preoccupied with sunshine and drinks and dancing.

you're a good kid. you don't cling. you don't whine. you don't cry. not the kind of kid your parents have to worry, or think, about.

"i've never done this," you think your voice wavers, either with excitement, apprehension, you don't quite know.

"never snuck around? i know, i've been trying to get you to come party with me since my fifteenth." the tension around you melts, even as you glare at your best friend, your shoulders sagging with every ounce of stress slowly abandoning your body staring up at him, your lips even tugging a little at the corner.

"this is far different than sneaking over to your house, oliver."

"well, duh, we're stealing alcohol this time," stretching the final inch to the cabinet above the fridge, he grasps two bottles from the tall cupboard, inspecting the labels with a firm grip around the necks of the bottles, "vodka okay?"

you shrug, you didn't know what vodka tasted like, only knew that this was expensive. this is your long-awaited teen rebellion, isn't it even better if it's not okay? if your parents return home, aghast at a house full of empty bottles and broken glasses? (you know they won't. you know you'll wake up tomorrow and tidy your mess, you'll be the good kid you are.)

pressing your back into the cold steel of the fridge, you stare up at oliver, reaching for one of the clear bottles, inspecting it like he had, the percentage on the front of the label meaning nearly nothing to you, "i've never had it before."

"you've never had anything," oliver teases, odd eyes glinting impishly when you crack a tiny grin at him. in all your years of friendship, he had never failed to make you smile, always drawing out a bubbly person, the you oliver knew like the back of his hand.

you'd been upset since your parents left, even more so this morning since you got to school, your dim eyes meeting his shining with energy, blue and green radiant, eager for the end of this chapter; he'd seen the dejected look in your eye, the small line of tears gathering in your waterline when you asked him to come over after the ceremony.

if oliver had asked you, he's certain you'd flash a smile at him, say you were fine, you were good, assure him not to worry. he knew you better than that.

"i have so!" immaturely, you snatch the second bottle from his arms, something about his teasing always riling you up easily, always having you act like a stubborn child even as you played at being an adult for the night. setting the bottles down, you debate getting martini glasses down, somehow using plastic cups feels too immature for your newfound rebellion, your sprouting adulthood.

"name one thing," the lid cracks easily in oliver's hands, his lips splitting into a grin when you stutter over your answer, "tell you what, let's play a game instead."

placing two plastic tumblers on the counter (deciding against the glass, deciding they're too grown up for a teen rebellion) letting oliver fill them with the alcohol and juice until they're nearly overflowing.

"name one thing you haven't done, and if i've done it, i'll drink it."

"… you mean never have i ever." you stare blankly at him, leaning a hip on the counter.

"i guess you can call it that."

"quit acting like you invented the game," again, his eyes sparkle when your lip curves even more at his stupid jokes, finally seeing a flash of your teeth.

"i mean, can you really prove i didn't?"

"let me see if i understand this brand new game," holding the bottle in one hand, and your glass in the other, you wander from the kitchen to the living room, sitting cross-legged on the floor, waiting for oliver to follow suit before continuing, "never have i ever: invented a drinking game that was already invented before."

you give him a pointed look, your first giggle of the night breaking through the air as he rolls his eyes and takes a sip of the drink, grimacing a little at the flavour, the cups poured with far too much vodka.

"my turn."

"good luck, is there anything you haven't done?" you repeat in the same tone he'd used on you in the kitchen, playfully jabbing at your best friend.

he was a horrible influence truly, almost completely opposite to you; rolling his eyes at you from across the maths classroom, knowing you'd offer to help him later, winking at you from across the soccer field whenever he scored while you studied on the sidelines, revving his car beside you whenever he caught you walking along the street, his list of athletic achievements at graduation was longer than anyone else, while your name had only a few listed after, oliver earning cheers and screams from his teammates and every fan he'd earned in the school, you on the other hand had only heard him calling, whistling and cheering your name from the crowd, whooping still when you walked back down the stairs from the stage with hot cheeks.

with a playful glare, he speaks, "never have i ever: stolen my parents vodka."

"that's cheating, you've stolen plenty of their drinks."

"never vodka before. and, as the creator of this game, i declare you must drink."

rolling your eyes, you take a mouthful of the drink, grimacing like oliver had at the awful taste, the liquid dancing from your tongue down to your stomach, already making your fingers tingle at the exhilaration.

"you like it?"

with your face still scrunched up, you shake your head, trying to think of any universe where people would choose to drink this, oblivious to his gaze washing over you, both of you still in your uniforms, your mascara smudged at your waterline, your fist clenched on your thigh, willing yourself to like the abhorrent drink he'd made.

"you get used to it," oliver laughs, taking another short sip of the drink in his own glass, the taste not as polarising after the first drink of it.

"i don't believe you," you tease, following his suit, taking another small sip, hoping to force your taste buds to adapt to the taste quickly, pausing your drinking only to continue the game, "never have i ever rejected the person i fawned over for a literal year just because she asked me out first."

he pouts before taking a sip, mumbling under his breath like a petulant child.

"what was that, huh?" your cheeks are warm, the tips of your fingers already tingling with each mouthful more, already nearing the bottom of your glass, oliver's now empty after this drink.

"i wasn't fawning over her." he mumbles like a brat again, leaning over you to reach for the bottle, topping up your glass then his own, making no comment to the fact his crush had all but vanished the moment she'd approached him beside your locker after school had ended, ren leaning between the two of you to flirt with your best friend, the glimmer in his eyes dimming the more she spoke, seemingly only bright when he'd glance at you over her shoulder.

"never have i ever fallen asleep during one of my matches." he nearly tips your glass all over you, pushing it closer with a very pointed look, the memory from your first year of friendship always fresh in your mind, only ten falling asleep beside the soccer field, staying up all night the day before after your first sleepover of many at the aiku house, oliver had too much energy for a child, and you still stand by that now.

"how many times are you going to make me apologise for that?" dramatically, you sigh and roll your eyes, having a mouthful of the drink he shoved towards you.

raising the drink to your lips, you swig your losing drink.

"never have i ever kissed someone."

glancing at him over the rim, you think you can almost see two of him, something that would once terrify you, two olivers? you can't imagine living in a world like that. now, it makes you feel a little warm, a fuzziness flowering over your spine that you hope is because of the wine. you hope it's just because he's the one in front of you right now and for no other reason. not when you knew oliver's dreams, his plans, and your own ambitions. both of you planning to abandon the town you grew up together in for bigger, better things.

"that's cheating." both blurry oliver's glare at you, slurring his words ever-so-slightly.

"no, it's not!" you're quick to defend yourself, nearly tipping backwards onto the floor, batting away his hand trying to pass you the bottle as punishment for lying, goading you into doing a penalty shot.

"is too! what about that guy you dated?" oliver knows his name, hadn't forgotten it since you told him you had a boyfriend a year ago.

"sota? we hardly dated for a fortnight."

"you never kissed him?"

giggling, you shake your head, your eyes sluggish to meet his again when you take another sip.

"did you want to?"

"kiss sota? not now." you make a disgusted face at him, similar to the one you'd made after your very first drink, sticking your tongue out dramatically, "at the time, i don't know, his lips didn't look soft like yours do, though."

"you look at my lips?" your face is hot, from the alcohol, from your loose lips.

"what? no." fuck, you said that way too fast, the lie making your body hotter when you glanced at his smiling lips now, flashing his teeth laughing at you, a large hand clutching his stomach, your embarrassment more hilarious than normal with the vodka running through his veins.

"it's okay if you do, i think about kissing you, too."

you freeze, mid-stretch toward your glass, stuck between wanting to clear your dry throat with the alcohol, something to keep your hands busy and to remain frozen like a deer in headlights, as if your movement is what you'd heard instead of his words. to keep you from staring at his eyes. when had you two gotten so close?

despite your proximity, oliver leans closer, leaning his forearm on the table beside you to inch further into your space, his hair tickling your forehead.

"you want to kiss me?" it's all but a whisper into the room, loud enough for him to hear, but not enough to disturb the atmosphere around you both.

"do you want to kiss me?"

you don't move, you don't want to disrupt the air as you both lean forward into the other, losing yourself in his gravity.

your lips are barely an inch away from his, your eyes stuck on his soft pink smile, you think you've been staring at his lips since he cheered for you walking across the stage at 10am, his beaming smile at the forefront of your mind.

"yes." you don't remember saying the words as soon as your lips move, too preoccupied by the sensation of his mouth on yours, of his hair between your fingertips, of his hands on your jaw, your saliva becoming his and his oxygen becoming your own. your head feels weightless, his hands steadfast on you all that's keeping you from floating away.

you don't know if you're too intoxicated by the alcohol or him but it feels so different from how your friends had described their adventures in kissing, how strange and alien it felt to taste someone else, to breathe (you keep forgetting to inhale, oliver's touch on your warm skin stealing the oxygen from your lungs each time you think to suck in some air), where to put your hands, how to use your tongue.

all of their stories felt nothing like this. nothing they described could live up to this.

you sigh against his lips, melting into his body, a million thoughts racing through your mind and somehow not a single thing floating to the forefront except the feeling of his touch on your mind. a deep want panging in your gut when his lips part, his tall frame crowding closer to you, your head tilting back almost until you're laid beneath him on the floor.

you almost think this is too much for a friend to just help a friend learn how to kiss, almost pull away to break the connection between your bodies, almost remember his plans to leave here. to move on.

you break the kiss after what feels like hours, certain your eyes are crossed and glazed when you stare up at him, his hands still cradling your jaw, yours slipping from his hair down to his shoulders, averting your eyes thinking of him moving on, forgetting this kiss while it would haunt you for your life.

© all works belong to @a-ikuoliver, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost, feed my works into ai or recommend my work on other platforms, or bind my fanworks for sale.

[louloulemons-posts]

Missing You

Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader

Summary : Eddie misses his favourite girl.

Word count : 0.7k

Warnings : Toothrotting fluff, Eddie being clingy, pet names, minor mention of sex, minor angst if you squint, a kiss, reader calls Eddie Edward lmao, fluff fluff fluff.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“See you later Wayne,” Eddie shouted out to his uncle as he headed off to his night shift. He heard the older man speaking to his favourite girl as he went.

“Hey Wayne,” said her sweet voice.

“Hiya Sweetheart, you have a good night okay.”

“You too, don’t work too hard.” Wayne’s soft laugh echoed through lightly and he heard the front door shut again.

Sliding her shoes off and putting her bag down on the couch, she called out for her boy, “Eddie.”

“In here baby.” Soon enough his bedroom door was pushed open and there stood his love.

“Hey pretty girl,” he smiled softly, she was slightly disheveled, hairs sticking out wildly, but still so beautiful. “Whatcha working on?” she motioned to the guitar on his lap. “Just trying to figure out this piece, but it doesn’t matter, come to me.”

He placed the red guitar on the bed next to him, and held out his hands to her. Walking into his space he rested his head on her stomach, wrapping his arms around.

“How was work?” he mumbled.

“Same old, Saturday shift so busy,” she smiled, running her hands through his curls. “Missed you,” he spoke gently.

“You okay?”

“Can’t I miss you?”

“No you can, just wondering. Let me get changed and we can cuddle okay?”

He whined as she pulled herself from his hold. “The sooner I get changed the sooner you can have me back,” instantly he let her go, so fast that she stumbled slightly. “Jesus babe,” she laughed.

Taking her clothes out of her designated draw, Y/N spoke, “What do you want to do tonight? Steve and Robs are heading to the movies after work, we could join them?”

“I thought we could stay here, hang out.”

Popping her head through the shirt she cocked her brow, “Okay what’s up with you?”

“Nothing!”

“Edward,” she sighed, walking back over to him, now in sweats and an old tee, “baby what’s up?”

Taking his face in her hand she met his beautiful chocolate eyes, like a baby cow she’d tease. “I just miss you.”

“Eddie I’m right here. We see each other nearly every day. At school, we hang after school, I come here.”

“But it’s never just us anymore! It’s us and other people : Dustin, Gareth, Robin, Wayne, god damn babe, even Steve Harrington,” he exclaimed, flailing his hands dramatically.

“Are you trying to tell me you’re horny?” and asked, softly rubbing her thumbs on his cheeks, “Babe we can fix that.”

“No! It’s not that, I mean I love doing that, but I just want you .. just us, to spend time together. I miss you,” he closed his eyes, embarrassed by the outburst.

Gently she sat down on his lap, legs wrapping round his waist, pulling his head to rest in her neck. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“What? Eddie no! You have nothing to be sorry for. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than lay in bed and cuddle with you.”

“Really?” he asked, coming out of her neck to look at her face. Nodding, smiling slightly, “Really, I love spending time with you Eds, you’re my favourite person. Honestly I’ve been missing you too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I feel like with work, and school and friends. We’ve been seeing each other but we’re not really SEEING each other, you know?” she explained.

“Exactly! I just miss us.”

“Hey, you listen to me Edward Munson, we are still us, we just need to be us in private rather than with other people. I have an idea,” she said, as he gently played with the hem of her shirt. “Hm?”

“I’m gonna go call Robs, get her to cover for me, then I’m gonna call my mom and tell her I’m with Robin.”

“Why would you do that?” he asked as she stood up from his lap. “Because we are having a sleepover, and tomorrow we’re gonna hang out all day, and you’ll be so sick of me!” she grinned, kissing his cheek.

Turning around to run to the phone, she was pulled back by Eddie who stood up. Taking her face in his hands he kissed her softly, “I love you so much my sweet girl.”

“I love you Eddie Munson. Now put your guitar away, I’m you to be ready for cuddles when I’m back.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading, feel free to leave any requests 🤍

[agirlwithglam]

TEENAGE SUMMER (12-16yo)

so summer has finally arrived and school has ended. and ofc, we want that hot girl summer with the perfect body, mindset, habits, holidays, and a great time in general but what if we have sorta strict parents who are just.. parents. so here are some tips to have your dream summer and glow up but also make it family/ teenage friendly!

GLOW UP:

external glow up tips:

numero uno: WORKOUT. yes, ofc this is on here, what did u think? work.out. decide why u wanna workout first: healthy body? dream body? abs? being stronger? for happiness? for fun? then, you can find a workout on youtube / pinterest for the one you want. (also what i love doing is the workouts on pinterest where its related to a tv show- or just search up [movie/ show name] workout)

smell nice! perfume, scented shampoos/ body scrubs, etc.

SUNSCREEN. trust me, u DO want to put it on.

skincare! moisturiser, lip gloss/ lip balm, exfoliation, etc.

put cold spoons under your eyes in the morning to reduce puffiness.

u dont like something? fix it! i didn't like my teeth for a while, so i got braces. you can't fix it? stop worrying about it and just give it to god cus u got better things to do

MANIFESTING:

affirmations!! affirmations in the mirror, listening to them, repeating them, thinking them, they helped me SO much!

Believe you’re hot. As simple as that.

Visualisation. Imagine people giving you compliments and staring at you all day long

internal glow up tips:

confidence. duhhhh! heres a guide to self love& confidence

abundance mindset. everything works out in YOUR favour.

detachment. stop taking shite so seriously. honestly, if someones hating on you then pity them or laugh then move on. like ur too busy to spend even a second of your day to make someone feel bad about themselves or argue about something pointless.

keep learning! educate yourself, expand your knowledge and your mind.

HAPPINESS. the real glow up starts when you're genuinely happy with who you are and where you are. be a light, carefree, bubbly girl but also remember to set standards and boundaries. when you're just genuinely happy, life truly does start to get better.

hotness is a mindset.

other tips:

channel your little kid energy

take a bunch of photos! (at the end you'll basically have a pretty summer mood board)

don't be on your phone all the time. try to ✨socialise✨ your time on earth is limited don't waste it on crusty, unhot stuff. ur parents will thank you for this as well

romanticise it. (laugh. smile. wear nice clothes, talk to people, get lost in a daydream. appreciate the beauty in stuff. even if its just a sofa.)

be positive. quit complaining. be happy and focus on what you have. spread love and happiness! you're privileged and you are a privilege. act like ittt!

stay present minded. live here, now.

listen to groovy, aesthetic-themes music. to get u into the moooddd!

become a better person. a better daughter/ son, sibling, friend, person in general.

GET OUTSIDEEEE!!!! TOUCH SOME GRASS. its sunny, its summer, why tf r u staying indoors????

sleep girl. sleep. just because you don't have to wake up early tomorrow, does not mean you can stay up till 2am watching netflix. sleep makes your skin glow, makes you look prettier, makes you happier and 10000 more benefits. so sleep.

channel your creativity! (paint, draw, sketch, write, poetry, music, etc.)

play. you're still young!! have fun and do silly and embarrassing things while you still can!!!!!!!

create a summer mood board!

channel a certain era- barbie summer, blair waldorf summer, hot girl summer, etc.

bucket list ideas:

go to a park

redecorate your room

spa day (w friends)

girl slumber parties! (face masks, girlie things, movies)

volunteer somewhere

beach day!

write letters and kiss them (like those pretty pinterest summer!)

go biking (i love doing it in the mornings)

bake! (cakeeee)

get back into some old hobbies (childhood nostalgia)

gardening. care for a plant (then talk to it when you feel sad ur won't be insane i promise)

look at the sunrise / sunset

read dude. just read and romanticise it with a pretty comfy space

make a goal. then work on it so hard that you get it!

learn something new (for me i rly wanna learn crochetting)

scrap booking

do a workout with friends

video diary!! (film everythinggg)

make jewellery (u can sell them after if u want. also there are tons of jewellery making kits on amazon or toys r'us!)

donate / sell stuff (like books and toys)

flower press (with printer tho)

dance with your friends

wear jewellery!! summer necklaces, bracelets, etc!

go for walks (w friends)

get your nails done. (you don't have to go out to get them done. you can do it yourself. i dont have nail polish but my friend does so we love putting it on together)

make some new friends! (join clubs, visit new places, talk to people, join classes,)

go to the beach

"what makes life so beautiful is the fact that it ends"

[bfictioncorner]

“Come Through the Window, Spend the Night”

Media: Jennifer’s Body (2009)

Rating: 18+ (or R or M)

Pairing: Jennifer Check x fem (afab) reader

Content and warnings: cunnilingus/oral sex, biting mentioned, mommy kink, blood mentioned, sorta cannibalism mentioned, Jennifer having a teasing attitude… mentions of her demonic powers/possession and killing…

Summary: You’ve been wanting to get to know Jennifer a little better throughout all of high school, but now that graduation has come and gone she suddenly seems interested.

Author’s notes: Takes place in the Jennifer’s Body universe as if she never got caught and killed, and just kept doing her thing past graduation. Jennifer is at least 18 or 19 here based off that (and reader is implied to be about the same age). Also there’s a mention of Needy.

Years of color guard and a failed year in cheerleading had you regularly trailing around Jennifer… not intentionally, just circumstantially. Which you didn’t mind at all. Sometimes you spoke casually, even outside of practice, and every time she was sweetly warm (which was saying something, considering she often seemed short to others).

Now that the summer after graduation had rushed upon you, you felt the need to do something to draw closer. There was a magnetism to Jennifer’s presence that skewed what it was you actually wanted to be to her. What were you classified as to begin with? Were you just always gonna be the nice floater friend, or were you trying to reach bestie status? It wasn’t as if she hung around Needy as much anymore…

“Hey, Jen,” you bumbled one day at the end of a post-grad color guard get together. (You didn’t want to be there, but talking to her was the only appeal in it.) “Your hair looks nice. I wanted to ask you where—”

“Yours is too, babes.” She delivered that automatic, white-and-shining performance smile. “I’d like to braid it sometime. It’s so long and smooth.” Her fingers reached out unexpectedly and interlaced with the strands hanging off one of your shoulders. You stiffened at the touch. “You have to tell me what you use! Mane and Tail? Some kind of mask treatment?”

You stumbled, completely taken aback. “Um, well…”

“You can tell me when we do hair together. Wanna come over tomorrow night?”

The urgency to obtain the details of where and when escaped you. “Yes!” was all you could manage.

…And that was how you ended up staying over at Jennifer’s house, sprawling around on her cushy bed late into the night. As promised, she brushed and braided your hair, went into a hair care rant, and then settled into a quiet hum of kicking stuffed animals off the bed and looking through magazines.

The quiet was comfortable enough, allowing you to steal secret glances over the curve of her ear and the black hair that trailed from behind it and over her shoulder… over her chest where the neckline sagged revealingly. Every detail of her form, her presence, made you panting, lips and tongue sticky with dehydration.

“Jen, can I ask you something?” you broached, feeling the need to fill the air. You squirmed around in the purple silk shorts and tank she’d leant you. “Why don’t you hang out with Needy anymore?”

A strange, pallid glaze clouded Jennifer’s eyes, serious and pensive. Her lips moved, a crack in her voice starting and stopping, unsure where to begin. “Sometimes people change. I changed, and Needy didn’t really vibe with it. I maybe also did some not great things… But, like, I had to…”

“Oh, well, I guess that’s part of getting older and growing apart,” you reasoned with a small shrug. Your eyes were hesitant to lock with hers, rushing around everywhere but. “And I’m sure the things you did were hard for her to deal with, but it wasn’t like you killed anyone.”

The flash in Jennifer’s crisp, light eyes—lashes framing and fluttering like thick, black, scalloped lace—appeared remorseful for a brief moment. A blink-and-you-miss-it moment. But that quickly shifted into a playful admittance of guilt. “You know all those murders around here? Specifically all the boys from school that—” Jennifer mimed a slashed throat, drawing her thumb across her neck.

“…Yeah?”

No answer. No verbal confirmation. Just a finger pointing to herself, a sheepish smile to match.

“Bullshit,” you rasped, letting your eyes roll reflexively. “You’re yanking my tail! As if you’re some kind of serial killer…”

“Not a serial killer. I was just… hungry. Like REALLY hungry. Like, on your period hungry.”

“I don’t—” You shook your head, confused.

Jennifer moved as if she was growing impatient in her own explanation. Just cut to the chase. Black hair fanned off her shoulders gracefully as she reached away, into her nightstand drawer, to retrieve a box cutter. It didn’t seem like the type of thing she would own. It also reflected some old red residue crusted on the blade.

Holding up her palm in front of your face, she slashed the thin skin with the angled blade. But as soon as blood had started to drip down in thick trickles, the source had sealed up… making you question what you just saw.

“I’m… different…” she shrugged, tucking a slick chunk of hair behind your ear, something mildly apologetic in her inflection. “I’m… a god…”

“You’re a demon,” you sort of gasped, keeping your tone as light and slightly joking as possible. It was an understatement to say you didn’t know how to react, how to speak… and yet you were drawn in hard.

“Not a demon! Just possessed, silly!” Her sheet-soft expression melded into a giddy grin. The strand she had just tucked behind your ear was now wrapped around her finger. You felt her subtle tug. Every touch was like a carnivore playing with a carcass, or laying claim to some prey.

Your unmasked reaction gave you a hesitant quiver, as if you were winding yourself into a fatal predicament. “God, what are you gonna do to me? Eat me? Drink my blood?” Your tone was surprisingly nonchalant and mocking—so hushed, though desperate. It might have been a mistake if what was concluded about the killing was true… But your time had to come sometime. If you were going to give in, “too late” didn’t matter.

“Eat you, huh?” Jennifer smirked nastily. “All this… softness?” She raked the silken neckline down to expose your breasts, no bra as a barrier. You could feel sticky pink lips and the gentle point of her nose bury into your cleavage. “Gross. How disgustingggggg…” Her voice trailed off, teasing. “You must think I’m some kind of monster.”

Her muffled voice was deliciously appealing, especially the more her lips and tongue suctioned to your skin, sounding oddly vulnerable and messy.

“Maybe I’m into that,” you murmur, biting your lip to maintain control and composure (futile as it would be).

“Say ‘please’,” she whispered against the thin skin against your sternum.

“Please for what?”

Your chest was suddenly cold with the absence of her lips. You could feel your back curve into the plush comforter below, helplessly, warm and suffocating, chest pressing upwards as Jennifer gingerly lowered herself upon you. Her hands braced down your forearms, a gentle sort of touch in her palms, her fingers. There was an itch for violence and domination in the contrasting force put upon you, but all babying smiles the whole while. Her glossy pink and black nails grazed sweetly on your skin, moving from your arms down to your bent legs.

“‘Please’ to start and ‘please’ to stop,” she chimed. In such an impenetrably fast change in position, Jennifer’s body had sort of caged over yours, head lowered to inspect the taper from your ribs to your belly to your hips, and then… “Such a good girl,” her voice fell out, somewhere between a growl and a giggle. She looped her arms under your bent knees in a motion to scoop you under her in a more strategic placement.

“Please?” you stuttered, having an idea where this was going, but nearly blacking out from the reality of it.

“God, so well-behaved too. Mommy likes that.” Her last words trickled off, the whole sentiment nearly lost on you for the fact that her face was buried between your legs, chin somehow pushing the tiny shorts out of her way.

Thighs jolting and cramping all at once, you were sold perpetually on the pleasure and pain of it all. Your eyes remained shut in bumbling, untethered ecstasy, Jennifer’s nose pressing against your clit with just the right pressure… her lips sucking around your soft, fleshy entrance. For a moment, it felt like little pinpricks, little razors, were raking and pushing into your pussy. It didn’t hurt as much as it tortured and overstimulated, causing a greater throb to your clit. You had to convince yourself it was her “regular” teeth and not some fangs that had suddenly sprouted. But you couldn’t be certain of that.

Everything felt muffled as you pushed deeper against the mattress, pink sheets encapsulating your view, skin tacky from the heated friction… Too soon had you felt the warning pressure coursing from your core to further down.

“Jen…” You felt embarrassed, a little shy… Incredibly turned on. “I’m gonna…”

“Go ahead, come for Mommy.” Her command was obstructed by her tongue thickly lapping and curling up from deep within up to the peak of your rosy clit. Saliva strung from her tongue and down her chin like an animal, except her cold eyes had glared at you with wanton intention.

“Please, Jen… Mommy…” you piped up, ashamed, but letting yourself go at the same time. You wanted to squeeze your thighs together at the itching, haze-inducing release, but didn’t dare crush Jennifer’s head. Instead a fragile, satisfied whine escaped, echoing strangely in a voice that didn’t quite sound like your own.

Jennifer’s mouth, glided over your pussy with a final lick, popping off with an unnecessary flair. She dabbed her chin and lips daintily before rearranging her posture and pouncing on you again. “Sorry. I might’ve drawn a little blood, but you tasted so good, babes.”

“I wasn’t sure what kind of, um, eating I was expecting.” You wanted to gulp like a cartoon, adrenaline high and nerves uncertain.

“Don’t worry, I typically only eat boys. But, uh, I can eat you like that again, if you like. Sometime. Whenever….” Jennifer’s blue stare caught yours, her lips curling into a sweet pout, her index finger locked into the spaghetti strap against your clavicle. Her eyes fell to that spot, as if she was considering biting you right there on the collarbone.

“Well, I’m usually free on this night during the week,” you bashfully replied.