#i think the two others have found the alcohol fridge though

[buster-rocket-here]

man i’m tired

[ellieswrldd]

*.✧ arabella ✧.*

pairing: brother's best friend! ellie williams x f!reader

summary: the last time ellie saw you, you were sweet and innocent. now, a year has passed and you've grown up.

content warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI, a bit of angst, r has a tramp stamp (lower back tattoo) & is described to be a party girl, brief dry-humping/grinding, strap-on use (r!receiving), reverse cowgirl & doggystyle, praise & degradation, use of terms pretty girl & princess, ellie calls the strap her cock

a/n: very loosely inspired by that one ph video..iykyk! also, named after the am song bc i think it give the vibes i was going for teehee

The last time Ellie saw you, it was the summer before your freshman year of college. You were still rather innocent, not yet tainted by the bad behavior of others your age. You didn't party, kept away from alcohol and drugs, and preferred to spend your Friday nights reading in your room.

That was how she remembered you, her best friend's cute younger sister. She knew better than to get involved with you, honest to God, she did. The first day the two of you met, your brother had stated that if she were to get too close, she'd find herself with a black eye and a restraining order. But the last day before you left for college, Ellie found herself uneasy. She was nervous, nervous to be around you.

So when she found herself alone with you in your childhood bedroom, your brother stuffing your luggage into the car, Ellie felt herself losing her cool. It was an innocent kiss, sweet and meaningful. One that started when you began to pull away from her hug and looked at her with those beautiful doe-eyes. Her lips found yours with ease like she had been waiting for this moment. The sweet sigh that escaped you was what urged Ellie to pull away. She let her slim hands drop from your sides and turned away from you, awkwardly rubbing her neck. Ellie mumbled something along the lines of a 'sorry' and a 'goodbye' before going downstairs to talk to your brother. That was over a year ago when you were just nineteen. Now, you were back for the summer, excited to spend time with your brother after being swamped all year. You were different now, to say the least. Even though you were still funny and caring, you were far from the innocent girl Ellie once saw you as. You partied, you drank, and now you spent your Friday nights in the beds of hot girls who caught your eye. The morning after you arrived home, Ellie stumbled upon you in the kitchen. She was staying with your brother for the summer, and while she knew you would come home eventually, she didn't expect you to be so...changed.

You wore a fitted baby tee, cropped just above your navel, and a pair of snug, light-wash jean shorts that seemed to end right where your ass met your thighs. It was something Ellie would have never pictured you in.

You glanced at Ellie from where you stood in front of the fridge. "Oh, hey, Ellie," You greeted her softly, returning your focus to the contents of the refrigerator. "Y/n, I didn't know you were back." "Got in last night," You hummed, closing the fridge door with your hip. "Almost didn’t recognize you,” She chuckled awkwardly. “You seem..." "Sluttier?" You muttered. It wouldn't be your first, not even your third time hearing that one. It was a comment your old friends from high school loved to whisper to one another when encountering you on campus. "Older." Ellie rasped, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her sweatpants and briefly looking down at her feet. "Hm," You shrugged and bent down to rifle through a cabinet under the kitchen counter. Ellie's breath hitched slightly when she caught a glimpse of thick, dark lines imprinted on your lower back when you bent down.

A tattoo? She thought to herself as a bright pink blush painted her cheeks. The old you would never get a tattoo, you were always scared of how permanent tattoos were.

"I think I'm going to go for a morning swim in the lake, want to join?" Your eyes darted over to her green ones as you asked. "I'll have to pass, maybe some other time," Ellie said. You shrugged and brushed past her to slip out the back door. Watching you walk down the grassy path toward the lake, Ellie groaned softly and turned to go back upstairs.

You weren’t the sweet, pure girl she once thought you to be. You were a woman now. And Ellie was fucking screwed.

~~~~

You found yourself on the couch with your brother and Ellie later that week. The sun was long gone, and the only sounds you could hear were the crickets in the backyard and the audio from the movie playing on the tv.

Your brother sat between you and Ellie, chewing loudly on popcorn and whispering little comments about the movie to Ellie as they watched.

You stared at the tv lamely, you eyes occasionally flicking over to Ellie’s face. She looked just as bored as you were, a little tense if that. Was your presence affecting her?

After the movie finished, your elder brother stretched his hands high above his head and yawned.

“I’m heading upstairs, you coming Ellie?” He asked as he stood from the couch.

“Uh, yeah, I’ll be up in a few minutes.” She nodded and watched as he trudged up the stairs.

You flipped through the channels on the tv, purposefully staying silent as you felt Ellie’s eyes bore into you. It was the first time you two had been left alone with one another since your first morning back.

“It’s rude to stare, Els.” You mumbled as you put on another movie. You heard her take a deep breath and shift slightly.

“You’re fuckin’ killing me,” She whispered.

“Ellie—” You sighed.

“Listen, I shouldn’t have kissed you before you left. I know it was wrong.” Ellie interrupted. “But I don’t regret it, and I’m sorry for the pain I must’ve caused you.”

You turned to look at her finally.

“God, you’re such an asshole, Ellie.” You breathed.

“I know,” She said in a voice just louder than a whisper.

“After you kissed me, I lost myself a little bit. I was so confused and I didn’t want to even think about you,” You bit your lip. Every word you were saying was true, you didn’t want to think about Ellie, even just seeing your brother mention her name in a text made you think about the kiss.

You hated it, you didn’t want to think about the kiss because then your mind reminded you how she cowered away after. How she bolted the minute your lips parted. How the girl you had secretly pined after for so many years had simply left after kissing you.

It gave you a reason to drink, to party a little harder than you should’ve. You tried to forget, and you seeked comfort in the arms of different girls.

“And now, well now I’ve changed. I’m not that quiet girl who read on the porch while you did stick-and-poke tattoos with my brother beside me.” You laughed weakly. “I doubt that kiss meant anything to you, but it meant everything to me, and you fucking left without saying a word.”

Ellie stared at you for a moment, her mouth slightly open.

“You’re wrong,” She stated. “It meant so much to me, so much. It was shitty of me to kiss you then, but now that you know how I feel? I’m glad I did it. I would have talked to you and explained myself, I really would have, but I’m a fucking idiot, and I got scared. Does that make you feel better?” Ellie’s voice was a mix of a whisper and a shout as her wide eyes searched yours. Your breath stuttered slightly as you took in Ellie's expression. You had known her since you were merely ten years old when she was thirteen, and she had just met your brother. All those years of summers and weekends spent together, and you had never seen her look like this.

Her emerald eyes were full of need, love, and something else. Regret? Something like that. She looked thirsty, thirsty for your touch, your forgiveness, your loving.

Just like that moment a year ago, you leaned in your lips mere inches away from Ellie's. You felt her hot breath tickle your lips as she exhaled shakily. The sound of your brother walking down the stairs caused you to pull away from Ellie. He rifled through a cabinet, presumably looking for a midnight snack as you stood from the couch. Without another word, you walked past him and went to your room. You typed a quick message and sent it to Ellie. R: come to my room once my brother is asleep? E: I'll be there. Waiting for her was torturous, like waiting for a storm during a drought. Everything was on the table now after both of you completely spilled your hearts out of one another. Hearing that gentle knock on your door made your heart race. With a low creak, you opened your wooden door and tugged Ellie inside your room.

It was still girlish and organized from your high school years, tiny Polaroids and colorful posters littered your walls. It was home, like a snapshot of your old self. Ellie looked at you with an unreadable expression, her hands slowly finding their way to your waist.

“Tell me you want this,” She breathed, leaning her forehead against yours and closing her eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve wanted anything more.” You placed your hands on both sides of her face and leaned in to gently brush your lips against hers. It was just the ghost of a kiss, but as soon as it happened, it was like something snapped inside both of you.

Gentle, loving kisses quickly turned into ones full of fiery and heated passion. Ellie's hands roamed your body, squeezing and pulling you impossibly closer to her. Stumbling backward, your legs hit the edge of your bed, and you tugged Ellie down with you. She giggled softly against your skin, pulling you to straddle her hips. "I've wanted this..." Ellie groaned softly as your teeth sunk into the sensitive skin of her neck. "For so long..." She whispered and let her eyes shut. Her hands gripped at the flesh of your ass, slowly grinding your crotch against hers. A sharp gasp left your puffy lips as the friction rubbed against your clit and sent a wave of pleasure through you. "My brother would kill you if he knew," You whimpered as her hands moved your hips back and forth against hers. "So don't let him find out," Ellie chuckled and brushed her calloused thumb against your cheek. "Stay quiet, and we'll be fine. Yeah?" With that, she dragged your clothed cunt across her own, letting out ragged breaths as the two of you needily ground your hips against one another. "M-More, Ellie," You whispered as you grasped tightly at the hem of her t-shirt. "What do you need? My fingers?" She squeezed your ass. "Well," You bit your lip and hesitantly climbed off Ellie. You knelt down to the side of your bed and grabbed a box from underneath your bed. Just about the size of a shoe box, Ellie looked at you with a questioning expression. "I have this, it's brand new." Shyly, you passed a thick purple strap-on to Ellie, your face hot as she glanced at it. "Have you...used one of these before?" She asked cautiously. Ellie was soaked at the mere idea of fucking you with a strap, but she didn't want to rush you into anything you weren't completely sure of. You nodded slowly. "Have you?" She bit her cheek and nodded as well. It wasn't surprising, Ellie had been popular with girls since the beginning of high school and was far from a virgin. "Okay, are you sure you want this? 'Cause once we do this, there isn't any going back." Ellie murmured as she leaned in close to your face. "I'm sure, Els." You kissed her softly and watched as she quickly stripped herself of her baggy sweatpants. Ellie slid the dark straps around her hips, allowing the strap-on to rest comfortably over her navy blue boxers. Effortlessly, she pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor of your dark room. She chuckled softly when she caught you staring at her toned torso. "Can't fuck you with your clothes on, princess." Ellie grinned and glanced down at your flowy pajama shorts. You tugged your shorts off first, then your shirt came off, leaving you in only your panties. "Jesus Christ...what am I supposed to do with you?" Ellie mumbled as she watched you lay back on the bed and spread your legs for her. "Whatever you want," Ellie narrowed her eyes slightly, tracing over your nude figure. "Get up," You wasted no time obeying her command, standing up and waiting at the edge of the bed for her next instruction. She sat down on your bed, stretching out her legs and leaning against your headboard. Ellie pat her thigh. "C'mon," You straddle her hips, the dildo resting against your backside as you kiss her feverishly. Ellie took a deep breath and slid her hand past the waistband of your panties, and gently touched your sensitive clit. She brushed the tip of her middle finger along your aching slit, mouth falling slightly agape as her finger slid against your wetness. "So fucking wet," You gasped sharply and bucked your hips against her touch. "Bet you don't even need my fingers, already so wet for me, could probably just put the strap in right now," Ellie muttered against your ear as her fingers teased you. "P-Please..." "Please what?" Ellie cooed, her hands drifting to palm at the exposed skin of your ass. "Fuck me, please fuck me," Ellie chuckled and pat your hip.

“Turn around, pretty girl,” You bit your bottom lip and slowly turned your back to Ellie, your hips hovering over hers as you tentatively waited for her next instruction. "Look, you can see yourself in the mirror," Ellie grinned and pointed to the floor-length mirror in the corner of the room that was angled toward the bed. "Raise your hips and keep your eyes on the mirror." Your gaze drifted back to the mirror, one your brother and Ellie had put together for you many summers ago. The sight you saw in the reflection was wrong, it was all plain wrong. Your brother's childhood best friend aligning the tip of the strap with your entrance, your panties pushed to the side, and concentration painting her face. A choked moan escaped your lips as Ellie gently pulled your hips down onto the dildo. You covered your mouth with a shaky hand, a weak attempt at muffling the cries of pleasure that left you. "That's it, yeah, ride me, pretty girl," Ellie guided your hips, her hands splayed out across your ass, two thumbs aligning with the dimples of your lower back. She watched in awe as you began to follow her lead, slowly bouncing on her strap. "Takin' me so good- knew you'd be all ready for my cock," Ellie grunted. You felt her thumbs swipe back and forth against your lower back as she mumbled incoherent praises. "God, you're so sexy...fucking love this tattoo..." Ellie breathed heavily as she stared at the dark ink that painted your skin.

It didn't take long for you to begin moving without her guidance. Your slow movements turned frantic and needy while pleasure burned deep inside of you. You had been fucked with strap-ons before, but it had never felt quite like this. This was more than just meaningless sex. With each buck of your hips, each movement you made, the strap pushed against your g-spot and ever so slightly brushed against your cervix, stimulating all of the most sensitive spots inside of you. "E-Ellie-" You whimpered, reaching a hand behind you. Ellie groaned and quickly intertwined a hand with yours. "Holy fuck," She whispered as she looked over at your reflection in the mirror. Your breasts bounced slightly every time you quickly sunk down onto the toy, and your expression twisted into one of pure ecstasy. Not to mention, the way your ass rippled when the skin slapped against hers made Ellie nearly lose her mind. Everything was too much, and she could hardly decide where to keep her eyes, or her hands for that matter. Her large hands squeezed at the fat of your ass, digging her fingers into your skin. Then she slapped the flesh playfully, just enough for the sting to fade into pleasure.

"I-I'm gonna-" You gasped sharply as you felt a familiar tension growing deep inside you. "Get on your hands and knees. I'll get you there, princess," Ellie murmured. You nodded and did as she said, leaning forward into doggy style. Ellie paused for a moment to realign the strap with your cunt and to grasp at the waistband of your panties. Soon, Ellie began to thrust into you quickly and deeply. She dragged your hips against hers by the band of your underwear, pulling you back and forth on her fake cock like you were some sort of doll for her to use. A loud smack echoed throughout your bedroom when Ellie slapped your ass. You moaned into the fluffy bedsheets you were pressed up against. "My brother- he's gonna hear us-" You whined as you glanced back at Ellie with glassy eyes. "Don't worry about that, pretty girl, he sleeps like the dead." Ellie laughed softly as she plunged deep inside of you. "Oh! There! Right there!" You practically sobbed when she repeated the same movement over and over again until your legs were shaking. On the verge of your orgasm, your body buzzed with pleasure, and tears threatened to spill from your eyes. "Mmh- Els, m'gonna.." "Yeah, cum for me princess, cum all over my cock." She whispered as her thumbs traced the intricate lines of your tattoo and her hips slapped against yours. One of her hands slid around your waist and moved down to begin quickly circling your clit. Ellie was desperate to get you off, she wanted to watch as you lost control of your body and experienced an intense orgasm. That was enough to push you over the edge, you screamed into the bedsheets as you felt your body stiffen and shake against Ellie's. Her thrusts slowed but didn't completely stop, as she wanted to prolong that climax as much as she could. Your senses were clouded with nothing but white-hot pleasure while you rode out the rest of your orgasm. After what felt like a few very long moments, Ellie slowly pulled out of you and sat back on the bed. She undid the straps on her hips and placed the toy on your bedside table. "C'mere, pretty girl..." She cooed softly as she gently picked you up and pulled you into her arms. Ellie lay with you in the bed, her fingers lightly tracing patterns along the skin of your back as she cuddled you. "You did so good, you're so perfect..." She said quietly. You hummed softly in response and closed your eyes. "You better get back to my brother's room, he wouldn't be happy to see you coming out of my room in the morning." "I know, but I'll stay until you fall asleep. Don't worry about me, princess." And for once, you listen to her. You focused on the heat Ellie's body radiated against yours and how peaceful you felt in her loving embrace. It felt right. --- tags: @asteroidzzzn , @ellabsprincess , @ximtiredx

[storiesofsvu]

Decadent Desires Ch 21

Emily Prentiss x reader Warnings; language, minor alcohol, minor anxiety/worry but it's all fluff otherwise. 3k. Wow. We're finally here. It lowkey feels super surreal. The passage of time is wild and I don't remember when I started writing this fic, though I know I had a lot of it written before I started posting so that likely makes it seem longer. When it all comes down to it, this is one of my favourite fics that I've written. I'm proud of it. I'm incredibly thankful to everyone who's been reading it, reblogging and commenting, you are all wonderful and amazing. Stay tuned for plenty more one shots and lots of fun with our favourite characters in the future! Don't wanna miss a fic? Sign up for taglist here! Liked the story? Send me a ko-fi!

Now that you’ve finished the fic please feel free to head into my inbox & leave a legit honest review!! It helps me know what y’all like, what you didn’t like & how to improve future writing both here & elsewhere! 😘🩷

To say that Emily’s mind was not focused over the next twenty four hours would have been an understatement. She knew that dinner was occupying her thoughts, trying to think of the best way to get her words out without fumbling all over them or saying the wrong thing. She almost considered practicing by writing them down, having a speech ready to go if she forgot what she was supposed to be saying. She started to wonder if that alone was enough, if words would be strong enough to win you over or if she needed to stop for flowers, dessert or even something fancier on the way over to your place.

She thought she was doing a decent job of keeping it under wraps while at work until Tara asked what break in the case her and DiNozzo had discovered. When Emily’s brow furrowed the other woman pointed out Tony had been in her office for nearly an hour, the two of them involved in a deep conversation and she could only assume they’d discovered something. Emily’s cheeks burned as she bluffed the best reasoning she could think of before excusing herself back to her office. While the case had been the original reason Tony popped into her office, she’d roped him in to staying, saying he was the king of all movies and tropes, wondering if maybe now was the time for some grand gesture.

He'd shot that idea down, which is why she was pulling up to your place empty handed except for a bottle of wine. The biggest grand gesture she was planning was to greet you with a kiss neither of you would be able to forget. Her heart thudded against her rib cage as she waited for the elevator, letting out a breath in an attempt to relax herself the best she could, a kiss was a kiss, the worst thing that could happen was that you wouldn’t read into it the way she did.

You swung the door open, a soft smile on your cheeks as you stepped back to let her into your apartment. Her hand quickly found your waist but any and all plans she had immediately fell out the window at the hesitancy and anxiety wafting off you and vibrating through the air. She could tell your shoulders were tensed, and you didn’t melt into her embrace the way you normally did, so she settled for a kiss on the cheek as per your usual greeting, following you into the kitchen as she passed off the bottle of wine.

“I’ve got a white open if you want to start with that?” You offered, tucking the bottle she’d brought into the fridge and she nodded.

“Yeah, that’s perfect.” She smiled softly at you, watching you pull down a glass to fill for her, adding in a couple of ice cubes just as she liked it.

“How’s the case?” You asked, picking up your own wine as you leant against the island across from her, “Tony mentioned it was still pretty dead ended, I was kinda surprised you had time to make it tonight.”

“It’s a case.” She shrugged, “there’s only so much we can do right now. Figured it was best to let everyone have the night off, come back clear headed tomorrow.”

As her eyes swept through the kitchen she felt her own anxiety beginning to settle into her bones, her heart still strumming faster than usual in her chest. You had made the plan to stay in for dinner, so she wasn’t confused over your very casual attire of pyjama shorts and a cardigan, but aside from the wine bottle, there was no sign of intending to host tonight.

“Bummer.” You let out a sigh as you took a sip of wine, catching the way Emily nearly jumped at the sound of your voice, her jaw tightening and you were quick to finish you sentence, “about the case! Not that you had time to come over. That’s good, I’m glad. I just uh..” you let out an awkward laugh she wasn’t used to hearing, “didn’t want to make it sound like I was happy there was some psycho killer still out there.”

It was Emily’s turn to chuckle, taking another large sip of her drink, “no, I get it, it’s a tricky line to walk…”

Her accidentally chosen words hung heavily in the air, weighing down on both of you as you let out a quiet hum, staring over her shoulder, your wine glass in front of your face. You could feel your heart hammering in your chest so heavily you were almost certain Emily could hear it or at least could see the way the pulse point in your neck was jumping. It was part of the reason you’d pulled away so quickly at the front door, you didn’t want her to be able to feel it, or your clammy hands, she didn’t need to know you were nervous.

“Hey…” you were almost certain your voice cracked, “I uh, wanted to talk to you about something.”

Her face shot up, trying to control the expression written across it when she finally caught your eye, “oh, yeah. Me too, but you first.”

You downed the rest of your wine, your glass likely hitting the island with a little too much velocity as the words tumbled out of your mouth before you could take a second thought. “I think we should end the arrangement.”

Emily felt her heart drop into her stomach, the butterflies that were once there crushed into a churning of bile as she swallowed. This certainly wasn’t what she had expected, she thought she’d read the situation right, followed Tony’s advice that was supposed to lead her in the right direction. Then she felt incredibly stupid, she read body language and people for a living when she’d known them for all of two seconds. Yet she’d spent incredibly intimate and personal hours with you and still didn’t manage to get the right vibe.

“Oh…I, okay.” She placed the half full glass of wine, her eyes not totally focused on anything before she scooped up her bag, “I’ll uh… get out of your hair then.”

You’d caught the way her face fell ever so briefly before she managed to mask it, your heart squeezing in your chest as you darted around the island, managing to catch her wrist in your hand.

“No! Emily, please, no.” You tugged her back to you and when she finally did focus on you there was an evident shimmer of tears threatening to spill into her eyes, “I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant.” You let out a shaky laugh, tripping over your words you were speaking so quickly, “well, I guess it is what I meant, but not how I meant it.”

“You… want to rewrite the contract?” She asked hesitantly and you felt the heat creeping up your cheeks.

“More like I was thinking about ripping up the contract…”

There was a moment of relief washing through Emily that you could feel sparking through your body as she let out a breath. Her gaze was still pouring into you and the entire room suddenly felt too hot, causing you to shove up the sleeves of your cardigan, making sure they were settled above your elbows before undoing a couple of buttons to give you a little cool room to breathe. Emily’s eyes darted over your body as her mind continued to race.

“Listen, I.. god…” you shook your head with a laugh. Despite reciting what you wanted to say for hours, you were still totally flustered when it came to saying it to her face. It didn’t help that you suddenly noticed the way her eyes were flitting between your arms and your thighs. “What?”

She looked up, a curious expression on her face, “no blood drawn?”

��Huh?” Your brow furrowed, head titling in the adorable way Emily loved when you were utterly confused. When she was done shooting you heart eyes she suddenly realized her mistake, her tongue swiping out the corner of her mouth as she began to stutter over her words.

“Uh, just… last time you went out of town you had blood drawn.” She shrugged, “I guess I thought it was some kind of travel, germaphobe, don’t want to pick up a flu or something…” She trailed off, kicking herself for letting it slip out in the first place. Her eyes darted down to your thighs again before flicking up to your collarbone, tracing the line up your neck.

Your face relaxed, lips curving up into a small smile when you caught on to what she was doing, and what she really meant. “No…” You shook your head softly, reaching out to squeeze at her hand, “no blood drawn.”

You felt your chest swell, and Emily wanted nothing more than to kiss you to high heaven in that moment, never wanting to drop your hand no matter what the cost. Instead of getting her chance you spoke again, which, honestly, was probably for the best.

“God…” you laughed again, running a hand through your hair, “I really don’t know how to do this, I’ve never done it before.”

“Wait, what?” Her head tilted, “I thought you like, made a side hustle out of sugar babying.”

“No!” You laughed, “Oh my god I’ve done it once and that was like twenty years ago. We had a very specific end date written into the contract and knew nothing was ever going to come of it aside from my tuition.”

“But you’re so knowledgeable about the subject.” She pointed out, thinking back to how confidently you’d flown through the first few months of your relationship, how you always seemed to be a step or two ahead of her when it came to navigating your way through it.

“I’ve done my research?” You shrugged, “seen a lot of examples with Heather. Hell, with a good chunk of other politicians. Listen,” you squeezed at her hand again, pulling the focus back to the topic at hand, “I don’t know how to navigate it like this.” You gestured between the two of you, “I’m not good at it, I guess it’s another reason I’ve stayed so committed to the job… being committed to a person just kind of scares me. I’ve never felt safe enough to open up the way I needed to, never been relaxed around another person to just… let them into my life so comfortably. I don’t know why things happened so differently with you, so incredibly easily and I think that kinda freaks me out too, but I think that fear is more than worth it if it gives me the chance to be with you…really be with you. Because that’s all I really want.”

When she looked up from your joined hands Emily could hear her heart hammering between her ears, the butterflies from her stomach slowly creeping into her chest. You were fully opening yourself up to her, no matter how much it scared you and behind the hesitancy in your eyes she could see something else pouring out, something that she’d been seeing for weeks but was never ballsy enough to say something about.

“I’m hearing everything your saying and believe me I want to respond and I will, but can I do something first?” She asked.

“Uh… yeah, sure.” Your brow furrowed for a second, thinking that she had to take a call, that over your racing heartbeat you hadn’t been able to hear her phone vibrate.

Instead you were letting out a little squeak in surprise when Emily stepped toward you, her hands gently cupping your face as she brought her lips to yours. Your arms easily wound around her shoulders, pulling her body directly into yours so you could absolutely melt against her. You were instantly lost into the kiss, feeling like everything inside of you was exploding in the best way possible. Somehow the thundering in Emily’s chest was calming down as her lips moved against yours with ease, as if that was exactly where they were meant to be. The sweet smell of your shampoo invaded her nose, you invaded every single one of her senses and there was absolutely nothing else that she could ever possibly want.

Her tongue traced the seam of your lips and you easily parted them, wanting nothing more than to be able to fully taste her. Your had crept up the back of her neck, fingers gently toying with the roots of her hair, your thumb stroking at her skin. Her tongue explored your mouth, rolling against your own and she couldn’t help but let out a small groan into the kiss. When your fingers ever so slightly tugged on her hair she retaliated by nipping at your lower lip while her own curved up into a grin. A small laugh broke free from your mouth, neither of you pulling away as you relaxed deeper into each other, giggles and smiles prevalent through a series of smaller kisses until you couldn’t stop them.

Emily’s forehead rested against your own as she stole one more kiss, her hand cupping your chin, thumb tracing your lower lip and you couldn’t help but press a tender kiss to it.

“I know it can be scary…” she started, “it scares me too and honestly I’m not sure if I’m particularly great at it either. I’ve been trying to untangle my thoughts and emotions for weeks, maybe even longer and it’s been driving me insane. All that I really know is that I love spending time with you, I’m happier when you’re around, you make me laugh, you encourage me to be my best, I even sleep better with you next to me and I want so much more of all of that in my life. So…maybe we can figure it out together?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, a bright smile on your cheeks and a sparkle in your eye that absolutely made her weak in the knees, “I’d really like that.”

With another adorable giggle you surged closer to her, kissing her again, your hands tugging at the fabric of her shirt, pulling her impossibly close. You couldn’t get enough of each other and it made Emily laugh again between the kisses.

“Jeeze,” she shook her head, “I can’t believe DiNozzo was right.”

“DiNozzo?” You murmured; head full of butterflies as you stole another kiss. Though once his name was on your lips you were crashed back down to earth and you leant your torso away from her, “were you talking to Tony about our love life?!”

“Uh, maybe?” She winced, her cheeks tinging as she laughed, “I mean, it turned out he did give some pretty good advice.”

“Oh god.” You hung your head, “I am never going to hear the end of this.”

“At least it was worth it?” She suggested and you smiled across at her, pressing your lips to hers.

“It definitely was.”

Her hand caressed your cheek again as she leant in to kiss you, unable to help herself at this point and you weren’t about to deny her. Right as your lips met you jumped at the sound of the doorbell.

“You expecting someone?” She asked, her arm almost tightening around your waist as you laughed, swatting at her arm.

“It’s dinner.” You grabbed your wallet from the island, “did you really think I was going to cook after such a long day?”

Emily shook her head at the look in your eyes as you disappeared around the corner. Choosing to take the time you were dealing with the driver to collect your wine glasses from the island, refilling both before selecting cutlery and setting things up on the coffee table.

“Hope you’re okay with Indian,” you started, setting the bag down on the table as you tucked a leg under yourself on the couch, “I had a craving.”

“Cuisine doesn’t matter as long as I’m sharing it with you.” She replied and you felt your heart thud in your chest, your body melting at the look in her eyes as she gazed over at you.

“You fucking sap.” You teased, choosing to distract her from the misting of happy tears in your eyes by jumping into her lap, your lips meeting hers for another kiss.

Emily’s hands ghosted up your sides as yours settled on her face, thumbs stroking at her cheeks while your tongue explored her mouth. You let out a happy sigh into the kiss that she eagerly swallowed down, her entire being relaxing at the way you were melting into the embrace.

“What?” She asked softly, a smile on her face as she nudged your nose with hers.

“Nothing.” You shook your head, unable to control your own bright smile.

“Oh c’mon.” She prodded at your sides, earning a squeal from you, “don’t pull that crap anymore.”

You laughed, gazing down at her as your thumbs continued to soothe across her cheeks, “I just guess I’ve spent so long avoiding it and being scared that I never realized it could be this easy to fall in love...”

“You’re in love with me?” If it had been even a day earlier the question would have been filled with worry, but right now Emily asked it with a tease in her voice, because she already knew the answer. You didn’t need to say it, she could feel it, the warmth flowing through the room, wrapping itself around the two of you as you perched in her lap. She wasn’t scared to hear anything you had to say and she knew she felt the same way.

“Yeah…yeah I am.”

“Good.” Her hand gently wrapped around the back of your neck, pulling you to her for another kiss, this one deeper and a little longer than the last. One that you could feel her emotion in, joy dancing deep through your veins as your heart began to strum in time with hers, “because I’ve been in love with you for weeks. I never thought we could end up like this when we started… but here we are.”

“Mmm.” You left a kiss on the tip of her nose, “and I wouldn’t have it any either way.”

_____________________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovakxprentiss @soverign @v3nusxsky @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @asolitaryrose3 @lisqueen @mrs-prentiss @whitewinewithice @d33pd3sire-blog @daffodil-heart @maximoffcarter @i-lovefandom @chimnlex @moonlightjxuregui @chestnutninny @gamma-rae-bursts @just-moondust @idkifimasub @gaydragonwitch @dowsedwithbleach @divergentalwaysandforever-blog @m1lfsh4ke

[loliwrites]

The One You Need | two

🎶 I spent most my life thinkin' love was out of reach, so maybe just this once, you could be the one I need, if you let me be the one you need 🎶

pairing: neighbor!joel miller x f!reader  rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni  summary: when you move into town hellbent on keeping everyone at an arm’s length, your neighbor Joel finds his way into your life. warnings/tags: au, neighbor joel, age gap [reader is late 20s/early 30s, Joel is late 40s], hyper-independent reader, a bit of a misandrist mindset, past relationships, men vs boys, sexual tension, dubcon [tagging to be safe] [slight alcohol consumption but neither is drunk], verbal consent received, reader described as female, no other physical description, protective!joel, soft!joel, dare i say ei!joel, no use of y/n. word count: 6.1k part one | joel miller masterlist  a/n: i’ve done my best to tag as thoroughly as possible, but if you think i’ve missed something, let me know. & tagging @hausofobsession because charlie's the best

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It had been three and a half weeks since move in day and a few things had become abundantly clear about your new surroundings.

1. Having your own place rocked. You did what you wanted. You answered to no one. If you wanted to have a one person dance party at two in the morning, you did. No downstairs neighbors hollered and banged on their ceiling – your floor. You could paint the walls whatever color you wanted and tear up the flooring if you had the impulse to. Nothing ever again had to be “renter friendly” .

2. Having your own place was a lot of work. There were any number of things that seemed to break, leak, or hang crooked on any given day and instead of ringing up a landlord and complaining, you could only complain to yourself… And then figure out how to fix the broken, leaky, or wonky thing. And it boggled your mind how dust and grime seemed to manifest out of nothingness. Rooms you don’t even remember stepping foot into had somehow acquired a thin film of dust. You were constantly cleaning something or fixing something, and in the most unfortunate of times, your cleaning of something resulted in you also needing to fix it. If anything, owning a home had reinforced to you that you were indeed the man in your life.

3. Joel Miller was practically the mayor of the neighborhood. Everyone knew him. It was impossible to spend any amount of time in the yard and not be bombarded with Joel Miller, Joel Miller, Joel Miller. While he wasn’t particularly outgoing, he seemed to be there when someone needed help. Whether it was Mrs. Cole with her grocery bags or the young, single mother next door to him who needed someone to put her son’s basketball hoop together. He was an everyman. And though he had helped you in a big way on your first day as part of the neighborhood, you’d spent the past few weeks dodging him as much as possible. 

4. And lastly, you needed his help again. At some point during the week, a foul odor had wafted through the entirety of your home. And short of thinking an animal had crawled up and died within the walls, you began scouring the house with as much disinfectant as your sense of smell would allow. Every inch of every room was scrubbed down, and when that still didn’t get rid of the odor, you figured it was time to call an exterminator. Dehydrated, hungry, and about to snap, you opened the refrigerator and was punched in the face by warm, smelly air that burned your nose more than the disinfectant. Ah, the source. 

How long the fridge hadn’t been working, you didn’t know. What you did know was that all the perishables – namely the dairy products – had certainly perished. And after three hours on the phone with a local handyman you’d found online, his ultimate advice was, “get a new refrigerator”. On a normal day, that was easily said and done. You would’ve ordered one the same day and gotten it delivered the next. Only, you’d spent the week prior throwing an obscene amount of money at new furniture to fill the oodles and oodles of empty space you now found yourself inhabiting.

You had genuinely thought about asking Joel for help that same day. At least to get the fridge out of the house because you were sure the smell wouldn’t leave until the entire appliance did. But when you looked out your window, his truck wasn’t in his driveway. And it didn’t arrive back until late that night. There was no way you were going to burden him so late, so you cracked some windows and told yourself you’d ask him in the morning. But the next morning when you Houdini’d yourself out of bed and made a pot of coffee, his truck was already out of the driveway again. An hour and a half later of throwing everything out and deep cleaning it, the fridge didn’t nearly smell as bad. And after a while, you kind of just let it be.

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Saturday. A day of rest. Except you were standing on Joel’s porch, curling your hand into a fist to rap your knuckles against his door, about to ask him to do a little work. A shred of guilt was growing inside of you. Yes, he had said to reach out if you needed something. He’d been nothing but neighborly. But you knew what you were doing. The thing where you use a boy for your gain but have nothing to offer in return. 

Joel opened his front door, breathing a little heavier than normal with a sheen of sweat over his face and down his neck. He appeared to be completely clothed, but whether or not you’d caught him in a state of undress and he threw this on, you had no idea. From what you’d observed by peeking out your front window, the single mother that lived next door to him seemed to have a little bit of a crush. Perhaps that crush was reciprocated on his end.

“Sorry, am I interrupting something?” You squinted your eyes shut and partially shielded them with your hand.

“What?” He looked down at himself, tugging on his shirt, “no, I just got in from doing yard work out back.” Joel took a deep breath and slowly let it exhale. He remembered when he could be working hard all day and not even feel it. Now there were days when he went up the stairs in his house and got winded. “How ya’ doin?”

“Good, I… I need your help again,”

Joel grinned, something cheeky that you wanted to slap right off his face.

“Don’t look too excited about it. My fridge is on the fritz and it’s too heavy for me to move,”

There was a part of him that wanted to bring to attention that this was the second time in less than a month that you were coming to him for help. Ultimately he thought better of it. The hard line of your lips and narrowness of your eyes clued him in that you were waiting to rebuke anything he might say. Instead he disappeared from the doorway, leaving you utterly confused, only to return a minute later with an old metal toolbox in hand. He stepped out onto the porch and pulled the door shut behind him.

“No, it’s not getting fixed. I’m getting a new one,”

He quirked his eyebrows and looked down at you, “that fridge is only three years old.” He stepped off his porch and started toward your house.

You took a few quick steps to catch up with him, falling in line and then keeping up that pace to stay even with him. It did look like a fairly modern make. “How do you know that?”

“‘Cause I helped Mrs. Wilson get it in her house three years ago. I’d told her to get that fridge because I knew it’d last. Now unless you or Mrs. Wilson did something on it that it’s not meant for, it should still be perfectly fine.”

“What’re you implying?”

Joel shot a wink in your direction, “you have any male suitors over lately? Get a little frisky in the kitchen over dinner?”

Your jaw dropped as you followed Joel up your porch steps. “No! You can see my house from your house. You know I haven’t had anyone over,”

“I don’t spy on my neighbors.” He walked through your door after you’d opened it for him, “are you spyin’ on me?”

“No, I’m not,” you protested, leading him into the kitchen and directing him toward the problem appliance. “But I do know that next-door neighbor of yours, fancies you,”

“Fancies me?”

“Mhm. She twirls her hair every time she talks to you,”

Joel set the toolbox down on the counter and angled his body at the fridge, “does she now?” He wrapped his arms around it, fingers gripping to the sides, and began to shimmy the entire thing out from its little cubbyhole.

The whole display was rather impressive. Despite actively not yearning or searching for a relationship, acts of masculinity did get you going. It was the double-edged sword that lived inside you. Boys – can’t live with them; can’t live without them. Just because you couldn’t rely on men, didn’t mean the desire to sleep with them wasn’t there. But even you knew, that under no circumstances, were you to sleep or have any sort of sexual contact with Joel Miller. Even if he was a rugged display of masculinity. With sinewy muscles that strained beneath his skin when he flexed them. And fingers that surely knew how to wrap around more than just the handle end of a hammer. He was your neighbor. You weren’t going to shit where you ate. But by God if he didn’t look like a delicious meal. 

It’s the reason you picked up so quickly on the tell-tale signs of attraction by Little Miss Next Door Neighbor. She was looking at him the way all women did when they wanted to be swept up by a man. They wanted to be handled, and led, and submissive. Something you could never be. To a man? Absolutely not. 

This argument you were having with no one but yourself was interrupted when Joel called your name with a tone that indicated to you it wasn’t the first or second time he was calling it. You blinked and focused your eyes, finding he was only partially visible – most of him being shrouded by the fridge that he now stood behind.

“S’not working because it’s dirty. Do you have a handheld vacuum?”

Approaching him, you contorted your body around it to sneak a peek at what he was looking at. “It stopped working because it’s dirty?”

“Could be somethin’ faulty inside, but the condenser coils and gasket seals are a mess. My guess is it’s just that,”

“I called some handyman and he told me I needed a brand new fridge,”

Joel peeked his head out to look at you, “why you callin’ some random handyman when you got one ‘cross the street?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, “I was going to but you worked weird hours this week and were never home when I looked out my window.”

“So you are spying on me,” he chuckled. “That’s why you’re jealous of Kelly,”

“Who’s jealous?!” It wasn’t lost on you that your voice rose about an octave or two higher than your normal register. You were sure Joel clocked that, too. “I’m just making sure you know she’s got a big ol’ schoolgirl crush on you,”

“She doesn’t ‘cause we’ve gone out before and it wasn’t a match.”

“Does she know that?” 

“I’d say she does,”

You smirked, having a little fun poking the bear. “How do you know?”

“Because when a woman gets naked and propositions a man for sex, and he says no, it’s usually a pretty definitive sign.”

“Yeah, right,” you laughed incredulously, “no man looks at a woman who’s ready to fuck and says no to her.”

“This man does,” he looked you dead in the eyes and held your gaze. “You got a vacuum?”

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The resoluteness of Joel’s answer had honestly come as a shock. It was something you knew you’d want to circle back on at some point simply because of how insane it seemed. A straight guy turning down sex from a woman? He had to have been the first man in history to do so. The thought kept you busy while your refrigerator kept him busy. Coincidentally, you both became significantly less busy around the same time.

“It works again?”

Joel plugged the fridge back into the wall and stepped out from behind it. He wiped his hands in a rag you’d brought out for him, which just happened to be one of your old, white t-shirts. He didn’t seem to care. Or notice. “Gotta give it a few minutes. See if it’s gettin’ cold,'' he looked up at you, noting how you began to get a little more fidgety, looking around. He wasn’t sure why; perhaps just itching to get him out of your house. “You got any food for dinner?”

“Yeah,” you said half-heartedly, thinking about how you were about to endure yet another day of some sad, canned soup. “I can whip up a can of something,”

He shook his head and waved you off, “come by tonight. I’ll fix you a meal,”

“You just fixed my fridge.”

“Maybe,” he smiled.

“I should be cooking you a meal,”

He shook his head vehemently, “I haven’t eaten chicken noodle soup since I was about nine, and I don’t aim to start up again.” He pulled open the fridge door, set his hands on one of the shelves and decided it was slightly colder than it had been just a couple minutes prior. “It should be good to go now,” he loaded up his toolbox and locked it up. “Swing by around seven. If you stand me up, I’m coming back over here and breaking the damn thing,”

“Joel,”

“Seven.”

With that, he was out before you could protest again. Somehow both of you knew you’d be showing up to his house that night. Annoyance bubbled up at your surface with the realization that not only did you know you weren’t going to disobey him, but he knew it too. The few hours between him leaving and you showing back up on his porch for dinner had been spent sulking. Whatever this was becoming – you weren’t sure what just friendship looked like with a boy because no single, unattached boy you’d ever met only wanted friendship – was getting to be too much. There needed to be a line drawn in the sand. You needed to draw the line in the sand. And more importantly, after the line was drawn, you and Joel needed to be securely on opposite sides of it.

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But curse this man and his ability to put ideas in your head. Horrible, awful, domestic ideas. The sorts of ideas that made you think this image of him: on the back porch with a beer in one hand and a pair of tongs in the other, a dish towel slung over his shoulder for quick access, flipping over and inspecting a couple steaks, chewing on his bottom lip as he pondered how close to medium they were getting… was an image you could get used to seeing.

It was how all boys in the past had gotten you.

They wooed you with their little acts here and there of masculinity. Or their wit. Or just cute looks. They made you believe that they were different. That they were honest, and open, and evolved. And you’d get sucked in and follow the white rabbit down the hole. For a while it’d all be good. You would actually believe that you had found an evolved man that you could coexist with and be happy. But after the momentary bliss, you’d come to realize that the wool had been pulled over your eyes. You’d been deceived and lied to. The boy could not manage his own emotions, let alone understand yours. You’d sit in the anger that you betrayed your sense of self to make room for this boy, and only when you’d talked yourself far enough off the ledge, you’d explode like a time bomb. Afterwards, a tiny piece of you would be the only thing left to go around picking up all the other little fragments of yourself. And you’d put yourself back together with tape and a promise that you wouldn’t ever allow another to break you like that again. That is, until another boy found his way to you and made you think he was different. And thus the cycle continued.

“You have family out here?” Joel looked up from the barbecue and took a sip of his beer while he waited for you to answer.

Taking a step forward and buying some time by swigging down a gulp of your beer, you shook your head. “They’re all in California still. Just had to get away. What about you?”

He nodded and closed the grill, “Sarah’s a few hours away at school and her mom’s ‘bout a half hour away. But my brother’s here. I work with him actually,”

“You must be close with him,”

Joel nodded absently.

“But no wife for Joel Miller,” you smiled, half-hidden by your bottle. “I take it no girlfriend either since apparently you don’t like getting laid,”

He laughed. It was the first real, hearty laugh you’d heard from him. It seemed to shake his whole body and he opened the grill back up and plucked the steaks off it, depositing them on an awaiting plate. “I like getting laid. It might be my favorite thing to do,”

“That’s why I think you’re full of shit. Turning down, what’s her name…”

“Kelly…”

“You’re telling me,” you approached Joel slowly, got right up close to him, and dragged a delicate finger over one of his shoulders and down his bicep to prove a point. “A woman… an attractive woman, I’d say… stripped down in front of you, told you to have your way with her, and you said no thanks,”

Joel watched your finger. His tongue poked out of his mouth quickly to lick his lips before he flashed his eyes back to you, obviously finding great pleasure that his gaze in this close proximity made you avert your own eyes downward. “Exactly,”

You half-smiled and shook your head as you took a step back, “bullshit.”

He shut off the grill and scooped the plate up. “Explain to me why you think that’s bullshit,” he meandered past you and pulled his back door open, allowing you the chance to walk in first before he followed you in.

Instinctively, you progressed into the kitchen, where two stools at the counter were awaiting with place settings. You perched in one while Joel set the steaks down by you and continued to the oven where he pulled out a tray of roasted vegetables. “Because you’re a guy,”

“Man,” he corrected and started placing food on your plate.

“A man,” you mocked. When he finished giving you food and moved onto his, “thank you. And men don’t do that. They chase pleasure. They get their dick wet and they move on down the line, leaving a path of destruction in their wake,”

This time, Joel waited to respond until he was seated next to you. He clinked his bottle against yours, “thanks for coming over.”

“To be honest, I was actually afraid you’d blow up my fridge and I can’t really afford a new one right now,”

“But I’m gonna have to disagree with you,” he focused on his plate and cut into his steak. Seemingly pleased with the degree with which it was cooked, he took a first bite. “Men don’t only care, as you so delicately put, about getting their dick wet.”

“Joel, come on, you know…”

“Boys do. For sure. A boy would look at you, a beautiful woman, and see a direct path to his pleasure. Absolutely. And a boy probably wouldn’t care too much about whether or not you were getting as much out of it as he was. ‘Cause he’s getting his, right?”

You nodded, silently pushing a mixture of steak and veggies into your mouth, enraptured with where he was going to take this conversation. And slightly unable to concentrate past the point of having heard him call you beautiful. 

“Men don’t do that. A man would look at you and see that yes, you’re a beautiful woman. But he’d also see that you’ve got a helluva brain, and you’re witty, and funny, and more than a little stubborn. He’d see that you hold yourself and everyone else to a high standard, and he’d want to meet it. And when he slept with you, he’d want to make sure you were getting more out of it than he was,”

Awe-struck was the only word to describe how you felt. Was a guy actually verbalizing everything you already believed? That there was a difference between boys and men. And that most guys thought they were men simply because of their age, when you knew age meant nothing in defining a man. 

Joel took a deep breath and finished off his beer, “I turned Kelly down because I knew if I slept with her I’d be taking on a lot more than I wanted to with her. And despite whatever your experience with men might be, this one’s not out to leave a path of destruction behind him.”

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What were these complicated feelings inside of you? Someone who prided themselves on being emotionally intelligent and level-headed and yet… you were spinning like a top. On the one hand you wanted to keep everyone a safe arm’s length away, and on the other you wanted Joel to scale the walls you’d constructed and fortified around yourself. For a long time there was an odd sense of accomplishment at how tall and strong you’d managed to build them. Look at how good they were at keeping people out. But now there was someone in front of you that you thought you wanted to let in – only in constructing your walls, you never put in a gate. And that ribbon of apathy, and the moments of enduring loneliness, maybe it was all self-inflicted.

Who knew how to hurt you better than you?

The beer helped dull those thoughts. Finishing off the second as the conversation meandered through Joel’s last relationship. A topic that would’ve given you supreme pause, and yet he recounted it with ease as if he were just a court reporter, tasked with jotting down the facts. He even acknowledged his role in the dissolution of that relationship. His eyes seemed to glaze over and travel to a distant land as he described all the ways he didn’t measure up. How he was never quite what that woman wanted. And how he had no idea how to become what she wanted. On the flip side, he admitted she’d started off as someone that only saw the moon with him. She’d kept some nights from being too cold and lonely. Only when a certain amount of time passed, did she speak up and sort of declare a relationship was there. 

That conversation ended when a third bottle was grabbed for each and moved to the living room. Both on the couch, you with your back pressed up against one of the arm’s of it. Your knees bent with feet planted securely on the cushion. And Joel sitting as close as he could with your legs creating a physical boundary between you. Even his thigh covered your toes, as if seeing how close to the boundary he could get. Despite feeling like this was someone you wanted to let through your walls, however temporarily, your brain still managed to cut off any inkling from your heart – using your body as the vehicle to keep everyone at bay.

“Hmm?” Joel hummed and grabbed your attention back to the present. “‘S’not fair leaving me hanging after I just spilled all my gory relationship details. What about yours?”

You shook your head, trying to appear innocent, “there’s not much to say.”

“Say anything,”

Staring at him, you took a deep breath and a generous sip of your new beer. Then feeling on the good side of buzzed, you stretched forward to move for the coffee table. Seeing your plight and the awkwardness of the angle given that you weren’t inclined to lower your legs to make the action smoother, Joel leaned forward, gently took the bottle from your hands and set it on the table for you.  

“He was nice at the start. A bit older than me. I thought it meant we’d be on the same wavelength for once, y’know? That he’d outgrown the frat boy, tool bag phase and moved into a more evolved one. It got physical quick and it was… awful.” You glanced down at your hands, remembering for the first time in a while about what sleeping with that guy felt like – a trial run with hari-kari, complete and self-inflicted betrayal.

With your pause and sensing obvious discomfort, Joel reached across his body and got a loose grip on your shin. He gave it a soft squeeze that felt like permission to stop if you were so inclined. But it didn’t hurt like it used to; as if you had been able to remove yourself from the equation and were now just recounting the plot of some terrible film you’d seen once.

Shrugging and with a half-smile he couldn’t place, you looked back up at Joel, “he had a good time.”

“Was it ever good for you?” He mumbled as though he didn’t actually want to hear the answer. And because you hadn’t reacted in any way to his hand on your shin, he took a chance and used that grip to lower your leg across his lap.

“No, but I’m a helluva actress.”

He raised his eyebrows and absently took hold of your other leg and lowered that one across his lap, too. Now the literal barrier you’d put between you had been carefully circumvented. “He never stopped to figure it out?”

You shook your head, “he was getting his, Joel. See, it’s hard to figure out when you’re dealing with a boy. They hide it well,”

Joel reached forward and set his half-empty beer next to yours on the coffee table. When he reclined back to his previous position, his hands migrated to your feet and squeezed them with a familiarity of an old married couple who’d been practicing this dance for decades.

“It ended two and a half years ago, so a distant memory,”

He only nodded. You thought he’d have something about that. Something like what’ve you been doing for two years without a man. But maybe he figured you were doing just fine. Probably better. So he only squeezed your feet again before his hands migrated a little further north to your knees, fingers just barely dipping between your thighs that you’d managed to keep pressed together. Finally he asked:

“No fillers in the meantime?”

It made you laugh. Any number of innuendo could be applied to his question. It was also at this point that you felt your resolve fading. The will to keep him at bay becoming less of a conscious effort. “No fillers. Not really my style,”

“Not a one night stand kinda girl?” He smirked and shot a playful glance at you. There was no chance he was unaware that the press of your thighs together had lessened. Any further action of his hand would’ve resulted in him going wherever he wanted, however he wanted. But he didn’t. His hand remained where it was, gaining no further purchase and adding no extra pressure.

“Would you be if sex was never good for you?”

He chuckled and threw his head back against the couch, “fair enough.” He shook his head, absently staring at the ceiling. Only when he’d gathered his thoughts and words did he shift his gaze back to you. “People are simple creatures,” there was a slight pause and though you opened your mouth to refute that, he continued first. “I mean the biology part. It’s not hard to get a woman off,”

“Okay, hotshot. Let me go get a horn for you to toot a little louder,”

He grinned widely, showing off nearly every tooth in his mouth. The look made you smile as well – like a kid getting caught opening presents before Christmas. “There’s a lot of hard tasks in this world,” he pursed his lips and shrugged, “making a woman come isn’t one of them.”

The heat you’d felt rising in your chest and neck after he’d successfully moved your mattress into your bedroom was returning. Only this time, you felt it settle in your cheeks, and you wondered if he was aware of it. Your eyes were glued to him, wide, trying to pick up on as much visual information they could get. What you found was Joel adding the slightest of pressure between your knees to spread your thighs just enough for him to pivot on the couch and face you squarely.

You swallowed down a lump in your throat, eyes flicking over the sight of him: the way graying curls moved across his forehead, or the way his eyes never left yours. Not even for a second. Not even when he was positioning himself closer to you, kneeling back on his shins with his thighs nudging yours upward at an angle. He smiled softly, a gentle thing that instantly put you at greater ease, and leaned in closer to you, planting his hands on the couch on either side of your chest.

“Can I kiss you?” His focus wandered down to your lips when they parted. 

In all your years of life, no one had ever asked that, and it took you aback, scrambling to make sense of the English you believed you were fluent in. But you nodded quickly and assumed that would’ve been the green light. Probably would’ve for most people, but as you were coming to learn, Joel wasn’t quite like most people.

He smiled and bowed his head, taking a breath to gather himself. In the meantime, his hair was close to your nose and the muskiness of his scent was everything you thought and wanted it to be. He raised his head and looked at you again, his eyes practically pleading. “Can we make that verbal?”

“Yes,” you exhaled. But when it didn’t result in his lips meeting yours with haste, you tried again. “Kiss me,”

Like a fire ignited under him, Joel closed the rest of the gap between you. Hands drifting to your cheeks, he cupped your head with the most practiced of ease and pressed his mouth to yours, first with closed lips to test the waters before the next action was the parting of his lips on yours. His tongue searched for entrance into your mouth, finding it when a soft breath was exhaled.

While trying not to talk yourself out of this moment, you also tried to think about the last time you’d been kissed like this. Or kissed at all, period. But like this, with want, and desire, and passion. Like all of Joel was made for this exact moment: to kiss you with the intention of every fiber of his being; to make your brain go foggy and blur out everything that did not add to this need. It was as if he could sense you slipping away from him, focused elsewhere instead of letting yourself buy into this, and he recaptured you with a soft bite to your lower lip. He re-positioned his hands; one at the side of your neck and jaw, and the other gripping onto your hip, adjusting you further until your ass was pressed up against his crotch. 

He forced himself to pull back, slight enough to be able to speak but still close enough to press his forehead against yours. “Stay with me. Don’t go somewhere else,” 

Your instinct was to protest, that you weren’t about to leave, but realized he’d picked up on the thing you were wondering about. The thing no guy had ever picked up on, or cared to, before. The distance your brain was willing to create between itself and your body.

“Joel,” you whispered, sounding slightly more needy than you would’ve hoped. 

“I know,” he murmured back. His hand ditched your hip for a split second and took hold of your wrist. Led it up over his shoulder and to the back of his neck, until the backs of your fingers brushed along the ends of his hair. Without fail, you softly clutched into it. “Stay with me. Right here,” his hand went back to your hip and your lips reconnected. Open-mouthed with his tongue pressing into yours. He tilted his head to the side and groaned into your mouth, sending a vibration down your throat, past your chest, through your stomach, and straight to your core.

You hummed back into his mouth, for once closing your eyes and letting yourself live in the feeling his lips could administer. The heat that had already been living in your cheeks seemed to amplify with the size of him around you. His broad shoulders meeting a wide chest that seemed to dwarf you. Large hands that effortlessly cupped around your hip or engulfed your cheek. He was everywhere at once and when he ducked his head lower to kiss your neck, landing a love bite on your jugular, it took extra measures to keep yourself grounded and there for him.

Your hand slowly released the hair at the nape of his neck, and slid down over his shoulder to his chest, followed the seam at the side of his t-shirt until your fingertips reached the hem at the bottom. With fingers tucking beneath the fabric and meeting the skin at his oblique, you felt him exhale a hot breath against your neck, his hips shifting beneath you. As you ran your hand north, you took stock of the muscles your fingers passed, and how while still present and firm, they’d grown less pronounced with age. A softness to his body that he’d earned the right to after years of hard labor. Or so you assumed by the feeling of calloused hands on you. 

Gauging what you wanted from him as your hands worked their way upward, pushing his shirt up with them, he groaned not wanting to take his lips off your neck, but doing so anyway to sit back. With a swift motion, he tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor unceremoniously. He wiped his hand down over his mouth and shook his head as if in disbelief as he pressed his hands back into the couch on either side of you, “god, you’re fucking gorgeous.”

His eyes danced their way over every feature on your face as if trying to commit them to memory, before they drifted lower, down to where your hips met his. But all this unadulterated looking sparked a flame of timidness inside you, and your instinct to quell the nerves was to grab for him, urging him back to you. If he was busy with his lips on you – any part of you – it’d keep his eyes from boring holes into you. His lips met yours again with fervor, this time forcing his tongue into your mouth. A helpless moan floated out of your throat and Joel responded by laying a hand at your neck. Fingers around it but applying no pressure.

“Bed. Please,” you whispered so low you wondered if you had wanted him to hear it or not. 

But it was like he was attuned to you and your body more than any previous guy had been. And in hearing your request, he moved his lips back to your neck and you felt a smile spread across his face, pressing against your skin.

“Please tell me you’re not drunk,” he mumbled against your skin. So tight that it distorted his words and had you humming for instant clarification. He lifted his head and looked back down at you, as if his eyes alone would be able to figure out the answer. “Drunk?”

You ran your hands up to his chest, “on two and a half beers?”

“That’s not an answer,” he let out a breath and drifted his hand from your neck, down to your chest where he gave one of your breasts a squeeze. You noticed at the same moment, he reached around to your ass but avoided it to simply adjust himself in his jeans.

“I’d have to be drunk to want to sleep with you?”

“I reckon it’d help,” he grinned boyishly and bent in again for another tongue-led kiss as though he couldn’t help himself.

You grabbed either side of his face in your hands and curled your fingers into his beard. “Not drunk, just want you,” there was a lack of movement on his end and you weren’t sure if he was short-circuiting or trying to figure out if someone your size could indeed get drunk on two and a half beers. Either way, you tapped his ribs, “now, if possible.”

[uluvjay]

Family- C. Caufield

Dad Cole Caufield! x mom reader! x daughter!

Summary; The journey of your and Cole’s family

Warnings?; FLUFF, hints to sex, kissing, cursing, pregnancy, mentions of labor, emotions, can’t think of anymore

All credit for this idea to my bby @turcott3

Part of my 1k celly:)

July 2021

Cole stood with Trevor watching you play beer pong with Alex and Jack, a smile bright on his face knowing how well you got along with his best friends.

The two of you had grown up together, both committing to Wisconsin together and both planning a full time move to Montreal this upcoming fall, for Cole to play his first full nhl season and you to being your career in interior design.

“Dude Just ask her out already, the way you two stare at each other is creepy” Trevor laughed beside him.

“We don’t stare at each other!” Cole defended, “I’m just watching her and Alex destroy Jack” he shrugged.

“Dude you two need to give it up already and just admit your feelings, or at least fuck. She’s a dime, and if you don’t swoop her up someone else will” the New York native spoke as he downed the rest of his beer and left his friend alone.

Cole didn’t want to admit his friend was right but sadly he was. He’d always felt something for you, he wasn’t really sure what exactly her felt but he’d always found himself being drawn to you.

Not to mention the way you stood by his side through everything, the way you cried into his shoulder when he was drafted, stood by his side and cried again when he won the Hobey Baker award; Twice. How you talked his anxiety away before his first nhl game and comforted him when the habs lost the cup final.

You were always there for him and he was forever grateful to have someone as amazing as you in his life.

He was taken out of his thoughts at the sight of your bubbly frame making your way towards him with a beaming smile on your face.

“You kick his ass?” He laughed as your arms wrapped around him, his hand that wasn’t holding his drink wrapping around your waist to pull you into his side.

“Annihilated Him” you smirked before cuddling even more into his side.

A blush tinting your cheeks at the feeling of his lips pressing against your head and the way his hand ran up and down your back.

Cole smirked at the shudder that ran down your body at his touch, he always noticed how you always got goosebumps when he was touching you.

“Wanna come get a some snacks with me?” He asked into your hair.

“Sure” you smiled and followed him inside the house.

You took a seat on the counter while Cole scattered through the fridge and cabinets looking for food, “what sounds good to you?” He asked, back facing you.

You weren’t sure if it was the small amount of alcohol in your system or the severe amount of built up sexual tension between the two of you that made you say it but it came out either way.

“You” you spoke causing the blonde boy to turn around quickly.

“What?” He asked making sure he heard you correctly.

“You heard me Cole, I want you” you extended a leg out to wrap around his hip and pull him forward.

“Are you sure? This could mess things up between us if it doesn’t work out” He attempted to be the voice of reason even though he was slotting himself between your thighs.

“I’m positive Cole” you assured before pulling the boy in for a deep kiss.

-

August 2021

Something was up, you had been sick all week and you couldn’t take it anymore. All the guys besides Alex had gone out to golf, having a late night before hand the Kings player decided to stay in.

“Why don’t we run to urgent Care? You could have a real bad case of food poisoning and you and Cole are supposed to leave in three days” He tried.

“Okay fine, let me get ready” you spoke finally agreeing with the boy who had been pushing you to go to the doctors after three days of consistent puking.

You were sat in the room with Alex in the chair next to you, they had wrote all of your symptoms down and had taken blood and urine samples.

“This is taking forever” you grumbled, a hand subconsciously rubbing over your stomach.

“I’m sure it won’t be much longer” the curly haired boy beside you spoke.

Just as you were about to issue another complaint the door opened and the doctor came in with a worried expression on her face.

“So I have some news sweetheart and I’m not really sure if it’s good or bad” she smiled sympathetically causing your stomach to drop.

You and Alex shared a quick look before you asked her to continue.

“You’re five weeks pregnant” she said.

You felt like your world stopped spinning for a moment, Pregnant? There was no way you were pregnant.

“No I’m sorry, it has to be a false negative” you laughed in disbelief.

“Honey your blood and urine test came back positive” she added.

“But I haven’t had any unprotec-“ yes you did, with Cole. Five weeks ago.

“Oh no” you cried, dropping your head into your hands.

“I’m assuming this wasn’t what you wanted to hear, uh are you the father?” She asked pointing to Alex

“Uh no, best friend” he awkwardly smiled in reply.

“Baby-daddy is out golfing” you cried, feeling like a train of emotions hit you at once.

“What? Oh-oh shit” Alex spoke as he finally connected all the dots, you and Cole disappearing that July night and you walking out of his room the next morning with disheveled hair and a limp.

After getting a talk through of the calls and appointments you needed to make the doctor let you leave with some paperwork and a copy of your test results.

“What am I gonna do Alex? There’s no way he wants a baby right now! He’s about to start his first season in the NHL” you cried out to the boy in the drivers seat.

“Hey calm down, I’m sure if you guys talk it out everything will be okay” he smiled reassuringly and patted your knee.

Returning home you found Cole and Jacks cars in the driveway meaning everyone was home.

“Relax, it’s going to be okay” Alex spoke up sensing your anxiety.

You nodded with a smile as you both made your way into the house, hearing everyone in the kitchen.

“Hey we were wondering where you to went” Jack spoke as he watched you both enter.

“Finally convinced someone to go to a doctor” Alex laughed in attempt to get the boys off your back so you could find Cole.

“Uh do you guys know where Cole is?” You asked.

“His room” Trevor replied, he knew something was wrong he could see it on your face and in your eyes.

Mumbling a thank you, you made your way up to the Centers bedroom knocking before entering.

“Hey, everything okay? We came back and you guys were gone” he smiled pulling you into his side from where he stood.

“Um, We need to talk. And you might want to sit down” you mumbled.

“Okay..” he said as he sat at the edge of the bed, you standing in front of him.

“So we went to urgent care to see what was going on and it’s not food poisoning” you began.

“Oh that’s great, what did they say you sicknesses is from then?” Cole smiled happy that you weren’t sick.

“I-uh, I’m five weeks pregnant Cole”

You could see the boy physically pale at the words that dropped from your mouth, his smile had dropped and he looked at you like a deer in headlights.

“I-your what?” He stuttered out in disbelief.

“Pregnant” you whispered.

“Okay” he nodded

“Okay? You’re just perfectly fine with this?” You panicked.

“No, I mean I’m fucking terrified but this is our fault. Our parents taught us what protection is and we chose not to use it. But if this isn’t what you want I won’t be bad, I understand” he softly spoke as he stood up and wrapped you in a hug.

“I’m so scared Cole” you finally broke down.

“Me to but we got this, I promise I will never let you or this baby down” he promised into your ear.

-

November 2021

“Do we have any ice cream left?” You asked looking over at Cole as he sat on the sectional next to you.

“No I gave you the rest last night” he replied

“Can we go to the store?” You smiled up at the man.

“Y/n it’s midnight” he laughed.

“It’s for the baby though! She wants it not me” you pouted.

You two had found the gender a few weeks ago and Cole was beyond excited to be having a baby girl.

“Come on please! I’ll even drive” you offered, doing your best to get the boy to agree with you.

“Fine” he sighed but a smile still covered his face.

“Yay! Come on” you squealed jumping up and heading to the door and sliding on your crocs and grabbing your car keys.

Cole followed behind you slipping on his own shoes, following closely behind you towards the elevator. He smiled at your little dance as you skipped in pure excitement at the thought of getting ice cream.

You sported one of his Wisconsin hoodies, leggings, and your fuzzy crocs-the boy truly thought you’d never looked better.

The ride to the twenty-four hour grocery wasn’t long and you made it there quickly.

“What flavor are you thinking?” He asked as you stood in front of the ice cream section, a look of pure concentration on your face.

“I don’t know, trying to get the baby to send me signals” you groaned knowing it had to hit just right to satisfy the craving.

He laughed, “okay well I’m gonna go grab some chicken while you and our girl pick your flavor” he he smiled softly at your small okay.

Finally after ten minutes you settled on cotton candy and made your way to the meat section to find Cole.

However your happy mood suddenly dropped when you seen what had been taking the boy so long, pretty little brunette.

She stood clad in an outfit not much different then yours, a beautiful smile beaming up at Cole as she made him laugh with something she said-His smile mirroring hers.

You really didn’t have a right to be jealous, you and Cole had both felt that a relationship wouldn’t work between the two of you and that doing this as best friends would be better. But for some reason you couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling in your lower stomach.

Sensing eyes on him Cole turned to find you in a staring contest with the ground, obviously stuck in your thoughts.

The girl had followed his eyes to where you stood, body being swallowed by a hoodie that obviously didn’t belong to you.

“Oh I didn’t know you had a girlfriend” she mumbled stepping back a bit.

“She’s not-it’s complicated” he mumbled.

“On and off again complicated Or?” She asked trying to get him to continue.

“We’re best friends but we did some stuff that ended us in a sticky situation, and now I’m not really sure what we are” he did his best not wanted to expose his entire private life to a stranger.

“Ahh” she nodded before continuing, “well if it’s not a problem with you, I’d like to give you my number” she blushed.

“Yeah sure” he blushed back and handed his phone over.

-

November 2021

“Do I look okay?” He questioned stepping out of his room dressed in a nice sweater and jeans.

“You look great” you smiled at the boy.

Cole had began talking to the girl from the grocery store-Sophia was her name, and tonight they had a date.

He nodded in thanks before gathering his things and turning back to you, “You sure you’ll be okay while I’m gone?” He asked

“Yeah, me and Emma are going to grab some pizza and maybe a movie, I’ll be good” you smiled at the boy.

“Okay just call me I-Oh!” He stoped himself and ran back over to you.

“What’s wrong?” You asked with worry at his sudden move.

He ignored you and just leaned down to pull your shirt up over your bump and placed a kiss to the center of your belly.

“Bye sweet girl, be good for mommy” he whispered and placed two more quick kisses to the same spot.

“Had to tell her bye” he shrugged before placing a kiss to your head and heading out the front door.

When Cole returned home that night he found you bundled up and fast asleep on the couch, his heart warmed at the sight. He loved coming home to you and he always would, especially once your baby got here.

Scooping you up in his arms bridal style he carried you to your bedroom, his lips parted in a bright smile at the feeling of you cuddling into his chest.

“God I love you” he whispered to himself as he laid you down and watched you snuggle into your pillow.

Cole wasn’t sure what it was that made him do it but next thing he knew he was opening his phone to text Sophia, thanking her for tonight but that he wasn’t really feeling a relationship; it was a shitty lie but he knew the only girls he’d want in his arms were you and your daughter.

-

March 2022

“You look beautiful” a voice spoke from behind you causing you to jump.

“Christ Cole! You scared the shit out of me” you groaned as you turned around to face the blonde.

“I’m Sorry. But seriously you look gorgeous, stop judging yourself” he scolded you.

“I just feel fat! Nothing fits and my feet hurt” you cried.

It was the morning of your baby shower and all the dresses you had picked didn’t seem to fit anymore causing you to rip through your closet like a mad woman.

“You are not fat, you’re growing our gorgeous baby girl in there” he softly spoke as he made his way towards you.

He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you while his hands rubbed your belly, smiling as he felt his daughter kick him.

“You look absolutely stunning Y/n, and I love this dress” he complimented.

“Thank you but you’re not really helping” you groaned, head leaning back to rest against his chest.

“Yeah why not?”

“Because I’m an overly hormonal pregnant woman and you just turned me on when both of our families are down the hall”

-

April 2022

“Oh my god Cole she’s perfect” You whispered to the man who was still clad in his dress pants, button up and suit jacket long discarded due to wanting skin to skin with his daughter.

You had gone into Labor right as the Habs were exiting the plane from their short trip to Ottawa meaning cole rushed in right from the airport, not having time to change out of his suit.

“She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen” he spoke in a soft voice, tears brimming his eyes as he continued to star at his daughter.

“I can’t believe we made that” you laughed

“Thank you” he suddenly said as he turned to face you, face as serious as ever.

“For what?”

“For giving me a family. I’ve never seen myself settling down or having a child but you’ve blessed me with the most beautiful thing in the world. I truly can’t thank you enough Y/n, I’m so thankful you were the one I was able to do this with.”

“Cole come here” you cried as you pulled the man onto the bed with you, carefully of course.

“I’m thankful to you know, it wasn’t exactly on my bucket list to be a mom at twenty one but I’m grateful that it’s you I get to live through this with” you sweetly smiled at the man as he leaned his forehead against yours.

You felt his eyes shift from your lips to you eyes a few times and just as you were both about to lean in, a knock sounded on the door.

-

July 2022

“You know when I said to make a move I didn’t mean knock her up” Trevor spoke to his friend as he helped set up the candles on the dock.

“Yeah way to baby trap her Cole” Alex laughed from where he picked the petals off the roses.

“I did not baby trap her!” The blonde exclaimed causing his three friends to laugh.

“Hey we’re not judging man, you got the girl you wanted and found a way to keep her around forever” Jack spoke

“You guys are assholes, now hurry up and finish helping before her and Ellen get back” he replied with a shake of his head.

An hour later Alex was blindfolding you and leading you out the back door of the Lake house towards the dock.

“Turcs what’s going on?” You laughed hearing your daughter giggle at Jack and Trevor behind you two.

“Nothing! Just be quite” he sassed and continued leading you.

“Okay take it off” he whispered and when you did you felt warmth flood your cheeks and tears prick your waterline.

There on the dock stood Cole surrounded by beautiful bouquets of white roses and candles while red petals covered the wood below him.

“Wha-?” You muttered as you stumbled towards him.

“Hi” he whispered, taking your hands in his as you approached him.

“What’s all this” you smiled with warm tears now running down your cheeks.

“I uh-You-shit this is harder than I thought” he laughed at his self

“I know we haven’t exactly established what we are but um” he began but was cut off by a loud New York accent.

“Just get on your fucking knee!”

Trevor’s voice caused the group around you-that you hadn’t realized was there to laugh. However it did cause Cole to shake off his nerves and drop down onto his knee.

“Things have always been a bit tricky with us but I’ve always known that I loved you. You’ve been there for all my ups and downs, my lowest of lows and highest of highs. These past eleven months have made me realize that I want you forever, I Want to go to bed to you and wake up to you everyday, I’m sick of telling people your just my best friend because baby you are way more than that. I’ve spent everyday loving you and I want to do that forever, so what I’m trying to say is, baby will you marry me?”

A sob broke through your and if it wasn’t for the smile on your face and nod of your head Cole would have been panicking.

“Yes, A thousand times yes” you cried as he slipped the breathtaking oval diamond onto your finger; the ring you showed him in college drunk off your ass, telling him that if someone ever proposed you wanted this one.

“I love you so much” you whispered as his cupped your cheeks to pull you into a kiss.

Your short moment was interrupted by Jack running down and jumping on Cole while Trevor handed you your daughter. Your families joined to share hugs and congratulations, both of your mothers smothering you in kisses and sweet words.

“Fucking finally Cole grew some balls and made it official” you heard Trevor exclaim causing a round of giggles and head nods.

-

April 2023

“Look Rosie! Here comes daddy and uncle Kirby” you exclaimed to your daughter as she stood against the glass.

“Ada!” She giggled as Cole slammed himself against the glass

“Hi baby!” He waved blowing the small one year old a kiss.

He went to open his mouth but his body was pushed out of the way by three large ones causing your daughter to beam brightly at the three men.

“Hi Rosie!”

“Ahoj Kočka”

“Hi pretty girl”

Spoke Arber, Juraj, and Kirby in sync, all three men smiling brightly at their niece, your daughter babbled in return smacking the glass with her tiny hands.

“Can you fuckers move!” You heard your fiancé yell as he pushed between Arber and Juraj to get back in his daughter’s sight, this time with a puck.

“Here baby, daddy got you a puck” he smiled and tossed one over the glass for you to catch.

You smiled fondly at the two, while you hadn’t expected to be a young mom you wouldn’t trade it for the world. You were madly in love with an amazing man and had a beautiful little girl together.

The journey was bumpy but in the end you got the life you’d always wanted

-

The end…

I apologize for any errors!

[goldsbitch]

Could we dance in the past?

part 2 to I gave so many signs

summary: First unrequited love is not the one to ever leave your mind. Y/N looks back at her missed connection with Charles Leclerc from the time they were just teenagers and regrets having him slip away.

song fic (disclaimer: rights belong to the respectable owners)

right where you left me - Taylor Swift Before love came to kill us - Jessie Reyes

warning: Present time, the past....alcohol and typos

Charles did all he could to appear normal and not give away that he was shaking on the inside. He was used to masking his true feelings, can't let other drivers know you're nervous, ever. Years of training and overused trick with digging his nails to his palm paid back. His latest girlfriend didn't seem to notice.

Life's good and I'm gettin' paid, mm But I think about you everyday, oh no (still) When I miss you I medicate (pour up drink, drink)

They went home earlier than planned, but Charles could not spend another minute locked up in the same space as Y/N without acting out or worse - getting up to talk to her. It was surprising that his lame excuse worked and hadn't caused any alarms with his girlfriend. He tried his best to look chill, laughed at the jokes he would have, listened attentively, contributed to the conversation, kissed his so called love on the cheek and took her home, where he made her feel good, as he normally would. Only once she fell asleep, only when he was really sure of that, he allowed his mind to roam free. He had to get up and leave the bed their currently shared. If he had been a smoker, this would be the moment to drag out half of pack. In the end, he opted for a glass of his favorite drink, or at least something that would resemble that. As he sipped his faux Moscow mule, he cursed the day Y/N showed him this drink.

For a moment at least I know You were mine and it was beautiful

"Ok, ok, listen, listen Charles," Y/N insisted, waiving her drunker finger around with a drunken sassy demeanor. "Yes, mon chéri," he replied, so alcohol flowing through his system one could be surprised he was still lucid. "I absolutely hate this...this thing," she pointed to the contents of her glass. "Oh, come on! You can't leave me alone in this celebration!" he moaned like a little baby. It was right after one of his biggest achievements in racing yet, but he was just too young to celebrate publicly, so there they were, two teenagers discovering the limits of alcohol in Y/N's empty apartment. Charles was over the moon when he found out that her parents were out of town, already being high on the post race hormones. Sometimes the starts just align. "I'm not going to leave you alone, you're stuck with me. But! We have to stop pretending like this tastes good," she nearly threw her fancy glass containing her dad's whiskey. "I mean, it is absolutely horrible," Charles admitted and made Y/N laugh. One of his favorite things. He got closer to her, one narrow kitchen counter parting them. "So what will we do?" "Let's get creative," she exclaimed and started to google around and sent Charles over to the fridge for a variety of ingredients that did not go together in any situation. "We need to find our signature drink. I want to walk over somewhere one day and be like...one martini, dry," she played a parody of her older self. "Yeah, you're right. Because the whiskey is definitely not it," he agreed and spit the rest of his out. "That's like few hundred euros you spit there, buddy," she whispered. Charles's eyes went wide and immediately started to apologize and offering to pay back. He was not amused when she laughed at him and brought it up when he went to the toilet, saying that he did not have to pay for the toilet paper. When he came back from the bathroom, he managed to bump right into Y/N, who though that the best thing to do was to jump at him from a corner. This resulted in her spilling her Moscow mule on both of them. Charles found it funny at first and took it as a great opportunity to take his shirt off, with a little hope that it might actually impress her a bit. He had worked out a lot lately. This had totally backfired the minute he noticed that Y/N was also soaking wet. He had already noticed earlier that she was not wearing a bra and tried not to imagine what she would have looked like without her loose t-shirt. His imagination could have gone on vacation now, her nipples were poking through and the t-shirt hugged the shape of her breasts tightly. Once again, as he had been times before with this girl, he was speechless and frozen. The internal battle being that he wanted to be as respectful as one could be, but his dreams were also becoming real right before his teenage eyes. She seemed to be drunk enough not to take care. He peaked several times and cursed himself when he heard the diplomatic words coming out of his mouth, informing Y/N of her situation. She thanked him dearly and covered herself by wearing his hoodie. This image made Charles's situation ten times worse, especially when he saw the little blush on her cheek. For a moment he imagined that she was his and only his. Took him two years before he washed that hoodie again.

But I wanna hold ya Like it's June in the west end Back when you were my best friend Before love came to kill us

It was always hard, seeing Y/N. He thought with time and age it would get easier, but all those talks about talk about time healing wounds did not align with his experience. He somehow got over it, had several girlfriends after her and discovered he really was the relationship type. But she just shined in colors brighter than anyone else. They understood each other. Charles was aware of that when he was young, but underestimated the rarity of that kind of a connection. Years had passed - and it didn't seem to matter.

Trends change, rumors fly through new skies But I'm right where you left me

He loved his girlfriend. He must have. The note was there simply in case she woke up when he was on his fake midnight jog. Occasional midnight run was something he did from time to time, so it was not suspicious. To sell it properly, just in case, he put on his running shoes and a hoodie. Strangely similar one to the one he gave Y/N that one Moscow mule night.

She must have stopped going to their usual café spot. It had been weeks since they talked, Charles took the events that happened at her prom to heart and decided that it was time for him to get over his best friend. He was sure you'd be friends again, sooner rather than later, but he needed some time to process. Or at least he thought, this was all very new to him, nobody to talk to about it and nowhere to get some decent advice. But that was what all the songs he blasted for hours on end seemed to agree on, so he tried that. No contact. He caught himself taking the roads that lead pass the spots he knew you might be, whenever he was back home. His body playing tricks on him. He always peaked into the café window - what if... After sometime, the realization that Y/N had stopped coming there hit him hard. Suddenly, the possibility of you two never talking again started to look a little too realistic. No word from her, which was odd. She would always be the one to bombard Charles no matter how bad it got.

Help, I'm still at the restaurant Still sitting in a corner I haunt Cross-legged in the dim light They say, "What a sad sight"

And with days adding up to their friendship hiatus, he started to literally occupy that café, way more that when the pair hung out there together. There were only two waiters there changing their shifts back and forth. What Charles didn't know was that they put a bet on how long it would take for the girl that used to accompany the young man, whom they'd known by his name at that point, to come back with him one day. Young love, they used to reminisce of their own first heartbreak whenever he left the door.

They expected me to find somewhere Some perspective, but I sat and stared Right where you left me

He imagined this is what it felt like to have an heart attack. She finally sent him a message. And with that one text, he threw away all the work he tried to accomplish by keeping his distance and ended up right back where he started. Madly in love.

It's gettin' late And I should go

He knew he shouldn't have. Was old enough to know better this time. Understood that it was all super toxic for him and that he was in a much better place now. Oh, and then there was the fact that he had a girl back in his apartment. And it wasn't Y/N. But still, he casually jogged right back to the bar they'd left not even two hours ago. Surely, she'd be gone by now. He'd just check it out, have one last Moscow mule of the night and call it a day. That would have worked just fine. Hadn't it been for Y/N, standing alone in front of the bar entrance. Charles saw her getting shocked the moment she noticed him and dropping her cigarette. He slowed down and stared back at her. As if to make clear that him being here was not an accident this time. And also to finally look at her gorgeous, now adult, face without having to hide it.

So under the mask of the moon Could we dance in the past? Before love Before love came to kill us

part 3

[collapsedglasshouses]

Consequences || Noah Sebastian x Reader [Part 1]

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Summary: Y/N has known Noah since he became her brother's best friend. Growing up with him and knowing everything about each other let to them also being close friends. But something changes between them when Y/N is moving in with them due to a water damage in her apartment and it all leads to Nick's 30th birthday party.

Warnings: NSFW 18+!, MDNI!, language, mention of marijuana, implied medication use, oral sex (female receiving), alcohol consumption, (feel free to let me know if i missed anything <3)

A/N: So this is the first work I every put onto tumblr and also the first work I every publish in English… Therefore: Pls have in mind that English isn’t my first language and I'm new to writing smut! If you have tips or tricks for me to improve my writing, pls feel free to message me! The idea was spooking around my head for a while. Be safe ppl and remember if you are under the age of 18, pls do not interact with my stuff since I’m really not comfortable with that (if i see it anyways i will block you). Now enjoy! <3

November 29, 2022 was the day everything changed…

12:34 PM; November 29, 2022

You woke up in the house where your brother and his friends lived. At the moment you kind of lived there due to water damage at your own apartment.

While the other roommates were momentarily out of the house, it was very empty and quiet around here. So it was no problem for you to get the spare bedroom. When you realised your brother was still sleeping, you tip toed down to the kitchen area where you found Jolly, Noah and Folio preparing a cake with candles.

"I think I've never seen you guys be so cute before." you mocked them while eying the cake. It was shaped like a guitar and coloured in black while being decorated with wonky red letters saying „Happy Birthday, Nick!“

You smiled to yourself before going around the kitchen counter and grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge "So, when do we start tonight?" you ask your friends while sitting down on the kitchen counter.

"It depends on how long Jolly and Folio can distract Nick." Noah answers before walking towards you, stepping in between your legs and than grabbing a cup from the shelf above you while looking at you.

"What do you mean 'Jolly and Folio'? What about us?" you ask your brother's best friend while holding his gaze. It wasn’t unusual for you two to be close to each other since you had known Noah for ages considering his friendship with your brother Nick, but since you were living here something had changed. From sleeping in on the couch together while watching anime and waking up in each others arms to him telling you about song ideas that he didn’t tell anyone else about or those small touches you exchanged whenever no one was watching that seemed so innocent but still left you guessing.

When he finally broke your gaze and stepped back to pour himself a cup of coffee, you took a big sip out of your water bottle to drown out your thoughts before anyone noticed your nervousness.

"You two need to prepare the house while Folio and I go equipment shopping with your brother." Jolly explains before you hear a shuffling upstairs, causing you all to become quite and stare at the stairs while gathering around the cake which candles were quickly lit by Jolly. It didn’t take long before your brother wobbled down the stairs and came to a hold when he saw you four standing in front of his cake smiling.

"Happy Birthday, Nick!" you all shout in union while Nick rubbed his eyes and took a couple of tired steps towards you before blowing his candles. "What are you guys planning? You act like fucking robots." he mumbles while Folio cut the cake into small pieces.

"Can't we just be grateful that mom brought you into this world 30 years ago?" you said before hugging him tightly. "Jesus… You making me sound so old. But yeah… Definitely… Even though Folio looks like you stapled that smile onto his fucking face"

The guys quickly changed the subject to not cause any further suspicion before you ate breakfast together. It didn’t take long until the three boys took of, leaving Noah and you alone to decorated the house.

You talked about anything and everything, before you asked Noah to help him hang a "Happy Birthday" sign on the wall.

You were unsuccessfully trying to reach the height the sign was supposed to go on. Before you could argue you felt arms go around your waist and shortly after that you were being lift up. You felt your pulse rise and your eyes widened. "What the fuck are you doing, Noah?" you protested - "Helping you. Now do your job."

You muttered under your breath and tried to concentrate while Noah's arms were wrapped around you. You would lie if you said you didn’t like how close he was to you but at the same time you tried to push away the way it made you feel.

"You know, I actually can’t believe Nick's thirty already. It feels like time flies by so much faster since we formed the band." Noah almost whispered while you try to concentrate on the banner before you and not how soothing his voice sounded to you. "It feels like yesterday when Nick called us to pick him up from that girl’s house because her dad caught them making out." You slightly chuckle at the memory before you signaled Noah to let you down.

"It also feels like yesterday when you called me in the middle of the night because the exact same thing happened to you and you were too proud to call Nick because you made fun of him because of said story." you reminded him while turning around and looking up into his eyes. You would never get used to the fact how tall Noah was in comparison to you. It wasn’t like you were tiny but he still was more or less a head taller than you.

"It’s not like nothing like that never happened to you, Y/N Ruffilo." he noted in a teasing voice and you exactly knew which story he meant. "Noah, you promised we would never talk about that again." - "I promised to never tell your brother that you slept with that skater jerk Michael back at your senior prom and than almost getting pregnant from it."

You remembered it clear as day how Noah drove you to the pharmacy in the early morning hours to get a Plan B and how you cried about not wanting to be a teen mom and how he comforted you by saying he would be there for the child like it was his own.

You also clearly remember your dumb crush on that Michael guy. There was this boy in your and Noah's year that you had a huge crush on since eighth grade. Michael was a skater and in retrospective he definitely wasn’t a good guy, considering his first love were definitely joints but when Noah left school at 15 to pursue his music career there was no one who stopped you from your stupid little crush, considering the fact you didn’t tell your brother because he would have hunted Michael down.

"You know I would kill you if you would even think about telling Nick." you threatened your friend and pointed a finger to his chest. Noah smirked while looking down at your hand, before grabbing the tape from your other hand and leaning to your ear. "As if you could do anything against me."

Shivers went down your spine and your heart began to beat faster while Noah left you standing there in the middle of the living room to go on with decorating. If that wasn’t enough he looked back at you and said "But at least you didn’t lose your virginity to that jerk."

You felt your cheeks burn while thinking about what he was implying. You and Noah being the same age and having such a close friendship at a phase in your live that was purely controlled by hormones, it wasn’t far off that you did in fact lose your virginity to your brother’s best friend. But you both swore that not a soul in the world would ever find out about that and managed to keep it this way to this day.

You tried to push the thoughts of the past away by biting the inside of your cheek. You didn't know what to do. Slowly but surely he was driving you insane and you didn’t even know if he was doing on purpose.

This was the moment you decided that it was best for your own good to try to avoid Noah's presence at the upcoming party. You didn’t want to risk ruining your friendship with him and therefore ruining the bond your brother had with him since ages.

11:19 PM; November 29 2022

Hours later you found yourself on the couch in the corner of the living room while the party for you brother was at its peak. You didn’t really know how many drinks you consumed, considering the fact that you took at least four shots with your brother, but you definitely started to feel the alcohol in your system while you listened to a story Bryan told you about the last tour.

You couldn’t help but think about what happened early. Noah seemingly consumed your mind. You could only think about his hands around your waist or how comfortable you two slipped into this weird situation in your friendship. When you were younger you often cuddled or were close but it all seemed so different lately and you couldn’t wrap your head around why it suddenly felt so different for you. You feared that you were imagining that change.

"I'm sorry, Bryan, but I'm not doing so well." You quickly excused yourself while standing up and making your way upstairs. You didn’t know what had gotten into you but you knew that you needed to clear your head.

You entered the upstairs bathroom, leaving the door open since no one was on this floor and looked at your self through the small mirror. Your cheeks were flushed because of the alcohol you consumed and your eyes were slightly red.

You bent down and splashed a few drops of water in your face when you suddenly heard a voice behind you. "Are you okay?" Noah asked with furrowed eyebrows while placing a hand on your back, instantly sending a wave of chills down your spine.

"Yeah, yeah… Uh… I'm fine just a bit tipsy" you mumbled, drying your face with a towel before turning to face your friend.

Without even realising it you let your gaze wander and looked at Noah more closely. He wore a black turtleneck and black cargo pants, if you didn’t knew better you would say he was about to go on stage. In comparison to him you seemingly looked naked. Only dressed in a lacey black crop top and a skirt that was to short for your own good. But you were at your brother's, one of the places you felt save with wearing anything and everything.

Suddenly he raised his hand and put a strand of her behind your ear. "Do you maybe wanna watch a movie or something? You seem nervous."

You slightly look up to meet his eyes. The eyes of one of your best friends. The eyes of the boy who knew everything about you except your confusing feelings towards him. You took a deep breath and noticed his eyebrows rose for a second, before you nodded. As confused as you were, Noah was still Noah and knew exactly what he needed to do to calm your nerves. So you decided to sneak away from the party and not even an hour later you found yourself showered and in pyjamas sitting in his bed while searching for something to watch while he got ready for your sleepover.

You could still hear the music blast from outside of his room when he came back wearing sweatpants and a worn out band shirt.

"You know what you wanna watch?" Noah asks you while making himself comfortable next to you.

"You will laugh at me." - "Spirited Away?" Bullseye. Over the years Spirited Away became your comfort movie. You remember it clear as day when you first watched the movie with your brother when you were around ten. So when Noah started playing the movie all the memories you had while watching it filled your body and for a second you forgot about the weird things you've been thinking all day while snuggling into Noah's side like you always used to.

"Do you wanna tell me what has gotten into your mind?" he asked carefully when you were halfway through the movie and your heart automatically started to beat faster while you turned to look at each other.

You thought about a way to get out of this situation. You couldn’t just tell him that you had been thinking about it all day how his hands felt on your body. That would have been stupid considering the fact that you were sure you were imagining that whole atmosphere so you decided to just shake your head and look him in the eyes. Your cheeks started to feel warm and him than brushing a strand of hair behind your ear while signaling you to come closer to him didn't exactly help. You obeyed him, knowing full well he didn’t believe you, and slid closer to him until your head found its place in the crook of his neck while his arms slung around you. One around your back and the other one, to your surprise, slightly under your shirt.

"You know you can tell me everything." he said, his voice becoming a bit deeper and raspier while he started drawing circles on the exposed part of your skin. You had a feeling that you would catch fire any moment. You felt like you didn’t have any control over your body anymore. So much to your own surprise you lifted your head slightly and before you knew you placed a couple of soft kisses on this neck before stopping in your tracks and panicking. He had stopped doodling circles on your skin. Instead now he had grabbed your waist a little harsher than normal and let out a sound you last heard when you two were seventeen, a bit too drunk for you own good and definitely more naked than now.

You paused in your actions and waited for his reaction, trying to guess if you officially ruined your longterm friendship for the sake of your own amusement, but than he whispered in your ear "Why did you stop?"

Before you could think Noah turned on his back, pulling you with him so now you were sitting directly on his crotch and could feel him growing harder.

"Do you even realise what you do to me?" he almost moaned in your ear causing you to lose the last bit of clarity in your head and you kiss his neck again, more firmly than you did before.

He let out that noise again that send heavy shivers down your spine and before you could even process what was happening you grinded your hips against his. A wave of pleasure hit you when Noah began to fiddle with your shirt, silently demanding you to take it off, while slightly buckling his hips upwards. So you sat up on him and did as he demanded.

You never thought that you would every be in the position again that Noah Sebastian was looking at you like that. Pupils dilated and that look on his face that made you want to rip of his clothes.

With easiness he turned you two around so he was on top of you and took his turtleneck off, displaying all his tattoos to you that always made you weak and started kissing down your neck, than along your collarbone and eventually landed between your breasts.

"You are so fucking beautiful" he whispers against your skin causing you to moan quietly. "Fuck… Noah." You stutter while he slowly takes one of your nipples into his mouth while massaging the other with one hand. Your hands quickly found their way into his dark hair and when you pulled on it slightly he moaned against your skin.

"N-Noah.." you mumble causing him to look at you "I-…" - "Take your time, Y/N."

You took a deep breath while he stroked your skin around your waist "I need you to touch me"

Never in a million years you thought that you would say those words ever again to Noah but in this moment you needed nothing more than to feel him closer to you.

You again thought for a moment that you overstep an unspoken line because Noah stared at you for a second to long. In the exact moment you wanted to say something again he began kissing down your belly and stopped at the waistband of your panties, looking at you, searching for any kind of regret in your face but the only thing you could think about was his mouth where you needed it the most. So you buckled your hips up a little, signaling him to go on which he did with anticipation.

Noah slowly let the last bit of clothing on you slip down your legs before spreading them with his hands.

Before you could even say anything you felt his tongue against your clit and arched your back. Immediately your hands found their way back into his hair and you pulled on it, causing him to moan against your core while you nearly lost your mind.

You nearly began to sob when you felt two of his long fingers push inside of you and curve upwards. You begged that nobody would hear you scream those profanities while Noah ate you out like it was his last meal on this earth. Wet noises filled the steamy air in his room while the end credits of Spirited Away rolled in the background. You began to shake.

"Noah… I'm gonna… Noah… fuck" you cried out while trying to get a hold of yourself. You never felt this kind of way. And the fact that it was Noah making you feel that way made it even better to you.

You were a moaning mess when you came undone, grabbing Noah's hair so hard you feared you would hurt him but hearing him groan against you instead made you cum even harder.

"Oh fuck… baby… look at you… cumming so hard you can’t even contain yourself." Your body shaked as you started to come down from your high, still jerking towards Noah while he slowly kissed his way up to your face.

Your first clear thought started to form in your head when Noah was right above you looking into your eyes.

"Holy shit." - "You call it." - "Fuck." He nodded looking as surprised as you did in that moment.

You looked into his brown eyes that never left your face while he admired you. You didn’t know what to say so you did the only thing that came to your mind and grabbed his face before kissing him with force.

Noah sighed into your mouth while you could taste yourself on his mouth.

You knew that nothing would be the same after this but you both also knew now wasn’t the time to talk about.

So when you left Noah's arms and than his room around two hours later, when the house got quiet, with messed up hair and lips still slightly pink, you knew this would definitely have consequences…

READ PART 2 HERE

[sp00kymulderr]

lost, found

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x gn!reader

Warnings: homophobia, unsupportive family, bad family relationships, drug use, alcohol use, implied poly relationship, sex mentions, angst angst angst. There is an ezra in this, whether he is our ezra or not is up to you. writer projecting their emotions on to their favourite character.

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: When Dieter is hurt by the words of someone else, he turns to his art to help him. What he really needs is you.

A/N: As part of the follower celebration, @ozarkthedog asked for the prompt "I need a hug" and @schnarfer asked for "I don't want to be alone". Then I had some big bad emotions this weekend and decided to use them to write a fic which is very personal to me. Unedited and I wrote this in an hour so forgive me for mistakes.

The garage turned art studio on the side of Dieters house is something like a sanctuary to him.

A place for Dieter, and Dieter only – lucky individuals might be invited in from time to time but if there was one place on this earth that was home to him, the studio was it.

You've been in there once or twice. Those times he has wanted to paint you, brush to canvas as he muses on the art of your body. Other times he’s called you in with a proud smile to show you a finished piece. Those time are some of your favourite; unlike his acting work, Dieter was often proud to look on the art he had created in a particularly inspired period. You were proud of him too.

There had been that time too when he’d found you and Faye and Ezra all in bed together, not an unusual happening at the house, and he had demanded you all drag your naked asses down to the studio so he could watch you fuck while he painted the scene.

Dieter was different in the studio, it seemed to change him. Like stepping through a hazy veil to become another person; one who could shuck off their mask and let emotion take them completely. He would transport himself away from the duties of a public life in the times, finding a solitary world to call his own in that small space of other.

There have been times he would stay in there for days. Painting, drinking, getting high, not sleeping only to emerge three days later red eyed and covered in paint, ready to collapse in to bed with you and whoever else he’d find along the way. You never minded when he’d pull you in to bed so he could finally fall asleep, all too happy to hold him until he drifted away to a much needed slumber.

Dieter hadn't planned to paint today. Not that you know of. The two of you were supposed to be attending a movie premiere in a few hours. Your outfit was laid out on the bed waiting for you, but he’s been in the studio for three hours already and you’re starting to think you’ll be staying in tonight. You could go with Ezra, you suppose, though he always said how he hated going to those events without Dieter.

So did you. Hollywood events are so tedious, Dieter whispering lewd stories about other attendees and groping you under the table always made them better. No, you’d stay home and enjoy a quiet evening instead.

Besides, something in you was telling you to worry about Dieter. He’d taken a phone call out in the garden this morning and had been agitated ever since. Checking his phone with every ping, fiddling more than usual, quiet even when you’d straddled him to kiss him good morning and massaged his scalp just the way he liked. He’d even scowled at the gummy edibles you’d brought home yesterday, though he still took some for himself before mumbling something as he headed off to the studio.

It wasn’t like him to be quite so dour with you of all people.

Hours pass by. The stylist is cancelled, the car too. You hang your nice outfit back in the wardrobe with a quiet sigh, you’ll wear it next time. You entertain yourself with some tv and a good meal. Leftovers in the fridge for him, he’ll be hungry whenever he eventually comes back out.

You should resent him for this a little, but you don’t depend on each other like that. You both enjoy time alone, in fact with him you need it.

So perhaps he needs it right now.

Dieter is aware that everything is going fuzzy at the edges. His head thrums in a half pleasant, half sickening way. The air in here is thick and sticky around him as his brush drags burnt umber up the canvas. He’s not even sure what the painting is going to be. He knows he doesn’t like it.

Paint covered fingers scratch at his chin, smearing some new colour there. Doesn’t matter. It doesn’t fucking matter, he thinks.

For all the syrupy drip in his mind, he can still hear the ping of his phone. All the way upstairs and covered by his pillow but he can’t stop hearing it. His body tenses up with each pernicious, imagined burst of noise. His hand smacks the side of his head, makes him even more dizzy for a promising passing moment.

“Fuck” Dieter sighs, stepping back from the canvas and grabbing the bottle of bourbon.

A long swig. He can feel it all warm sloshing down him inside. Mixed with the other shit in his system, it swaddles him in a thick blanket of warmth that muffles some of the noise in his head. He can’t hear her as loud for now, at the very least. He doesn’t want to hear her ever again.

There’s a stash of pills behind the paintbrushes. He takes one more, chases it down with the bourbon and unsteadily shuffles himself back to the canvas again – contemplating with increasingly bleary eyes.

For a short moment they focus in on the painting before him, and he lets out a pained groan before stumbling backwards.

It’s a memory from his childhood; the view of his home town from the roof above the window of his parents house.

You give Dieter a few more hours and it’s well in to the night. He has yet to emerge, and you’re struggling to sleep in the too-big bed on your own tonight. It’s not often you’re completely alone here, even if it’s not Dieter there is another friend or visitor to share it with.

Tonight the loneliness is seeping in to your bones, the cold of it permeating from the studio downstairs.

You know there’s an unspoken promise to leave him be when he’s in his sanctuary, but you can’t help the feeling in your gut. You need to check on him, so you make your way back downstairs and towards the door where there seems to be silence on the other side.

“Dieter? Baby?” You whisper, knocking quietly once and then again when there is no answer. Taking a breath, you open the door and enter.

Your heart falls when you see him.

He’s sat on the cold concrete floor, nothing but his grey shorts on. Cuddling his knees to his chest, muttering under his breath. You can tell from the way he talks that he’s taken a lot, drank a lot.

“Hey, Dee?” You murmur, moving in to the room and standing a few steps from him.

He takes a moment to react, then looks over at you with unfocused eyes. He doesn’t answer you, just nods and turns back to the painting.

“I’ll...I’ll leave you alone. Just thought I should check-” Your cut off by his quiet voice.

“I don’t want to be alone”

You hear pain. Fear. Doubt. It tears your soul in two. You’re by his side immediately, sinking to the floor. His face is wet with tears, you realise when you see him up close. It breaks your heart to see him like this.

He’s looking at the painting again. He doesn’t seem proud, not at all. He doesn’t seem happy about it. But he can’t seem to stop looking at it, so you look too. It’s beautiful like most of his work, but it’s bleak, all dark colours and shadows and heartfelt emotion laced in to the brush strokes. Your breath hitches when you recognise the view.

“You’re thinking about home?” You ask softly, placing a gentle hand on his forearm.

The sombre mood after the phone call this morning is starting to make more sense. You slide your hand down to lace your fingers with his. Home, family, it’s complicated for Dieter. He barely talks about it, but he’s told you enough that you know that.

He nods again, silent to your questioning. He looks almost out of it. A lump forms in your throat at the knowledge that he’s in pain, painting not working to quell the sadness in him like it usually does. This isn’t a haven for him right now, it’s the opposite.

He’s easy to move, pliant as you get to your feet and haul him up. He doesn’t need to be in here, not now. You pull Dieter out of the studio and over to the couch to sit him down a cover him in the softest blanket you have. He just leans back and closes his eyes, but holds on to your hand with a squeeze for a moment before you head to the kitchen.

You give him food, water, gently wipe some of the less dried-on paint from him.

“Dee...please. What happened?” You whisper to him, trying to keep every motion tender and quiet towards him while he’s in this state.

Dieter lets out a long breath and pulls the blanket more securely over himself. He feels pathetic, but you don’t seem to care that he is.

“My aunt…” He finally says, voice a little clearer but barely.

“She called you today, right?”

“I told my cousin I’d try and come home for his birthday. She must’ve found out, told me not to bother-” Dieter nods, the words still a little slurred, breaking mid sentence, “Said they’d seen those photos of me and Ezra at the gala the other week”

You nod and stroke his hair as he talks, try to soothe him. You know which photos he means, paparazzi shots of the two of them kissing outside the venue. They hadn’t been trying to hide it; Dieter never usually gave a shit what anyone thought of his relationships. But his family...they still had their way of making him feel small and wrong.

“She said they were all praying for me, still hoping to get me back to normal one day. S-said I embarrassed mom and dad again” Dieter stuttered over the last words, a tear slipping from his eyes.

“I don’t even fucking care. I don’t. It’s just. Just...I need a hug...” He finally let himself break.

“Baby...come here” You’re quickly pulling him to you, wrapping yourself around him under the blanket. His head rests on your chest and you rub your hands up and down his back. It’s heartbreaking to see how even now, a fully grown man with his own life and his own world, they can make him feel like this.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, yeah? You’re perfect, Dieter Bravo. You’re free and you’re here and they’re missing out on knowing just how fucking amazing you are all because they can’t see past something as little as who you like to kiss” You whisper loving assurances in to his messy hair, kissing the top of his head occasionally.

He lets out a tiny sob muffled against you, some mumbled words you can’t quite make out.

“Fuck them. You’ve got me, you’ve got a family here…you know that, don’t you?”

Dieter sniffles and raises his head very slightly to look up at you. He looks so tired. Your shirt has paint on it now. You don’t care, you only care that he knows.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know” He answers quietly, clinging on to you still as his eyes droop with physical and emotional exhaustion. He snuggles back in to you and lets his breathing slow, mumbling a few more words

“You’re right, I’ve got all the family I need…you’re my family”

[fictionalmenmakemecry]

Fuckin' with the Ecosystem- Chapter 2

Characters: Carmy Berzatto x Reader

Summary: You spend your Sunday afternoon with Carmy, by your side, trying to make sense of the piles of disorganized paperwork. You finally have a chance to ask what happened to his brother, only to regret it after finding out the answer. You start to realize you might be there for more than just financial guidance.

Warnings: Angst, Suicide mentions, Alcohol.

A/n: I'm really excited writing this series. It's been awhile since writing something like this. I hope you guys enjoy it and please let me know what you think! Any feedback would be amazing. If there's any other ideas you have in mind about our Carmy, my requests are open!

Here's chapter one, if haven't read yet.

Enjoy :)

It was a Sunday evening, and after officially a week of being at 'The Original Beef of Chicagoland,' you were no were nowhere closer to telling Carmy the legal or financial status of his restaurant.

It took you half the week to just organize the random letters and scraps of paper laying in boxes. With that, there was still portions missing.

Carmy came through the swinging doors with two plates. He placed your plate on the desk and scooted a chair closer to you. He felt bad about dropping this bomb on you. But even worse now, because you came in every day this week to get on top of this mess.

When he found out that you were coming in today, there was no doubt that he was coming in too, even though the restaurant was closed. He didn't say anything though, knowing you would try and convince him not to come in.

You looked up and gave him a grateful smile picking up the plate of pasta and swapping your pen for a fork.

"Don't go too hard on me. It's whatever I could lay my hand on." He said with his mouth half full.

You rolled my eyes, like you were going to be judging him on his culinary skills right now. Especially, after everything you saw in the previous job.

You stabbed the penne pasta with your fork and shoved it in your mouth, not really caring about the taste. You started to notice how hungry you really were. The taste was the last thing on your mind. Saying that, it was delicious.

You both sat in silence, scoffing down the food as fast as possible. Carmy took the cleared plates from you and worked his way back to the kitchen.

As he rinsed the last bit of suds off the plates, he paused a moment and went over to the mini fridge in the corner of the kitchen. He took out two chilled bottles, thinking that you need something to help you relax after searching through piles of paper all day.

After a few moments, he popped back through the doors with two beers in his hand.

"Thanks." You smiled, taking the cold beer from him.

"I wish we had somethin' stronger than this, but 'aven't found my brother's hidden stash yet." Carmy put the lip of the bottle on the edge of the desk and slammed his hand down on it.

The cap popped off and fell onto the ground and he took a swig of his beer.

"He has one?" You asked, trying the same move as he just did with his bottle.

You slammed your hand onto it but at the wrong angle. Your hand ended up punching the desk and you felt the pain traveling up your arm.

"Fuck" You muttered wincing.

You look over to see Carmy holding back a smile and reached over to take the bottle off of you.

"Very smooth" He broke into a snicker before doing the same maneuver on your bottle with ease.

"Fuck you" You smirked back, snatching the bottle off of him and bringing it to your mouth.

You looked over to see him leaning back on the chair with his legs straight out in front of him. Your feet leaning against his awkwardly in the smallest office in Chicago.

"How's Nick?" He asked, playing with the beer label.

"Uh.. I wouldn't know" You were caught off guard by the question. Since coming into town, you and him haven't really had the chance to talk about anything other than work.

"We broke up a year ago." You eventually said taking a glance up at him.

Thank fuck, he thought to himself

"Shit, sorry, I didn't know" He hummed taking another drink.

"Nah, it's fine. The relationship was past its expiry. It was becoming toxic as hell." You glanced up at him with a soft smile.

"You were right though" You continued after a moment of silence.

Carmy looked up with slight confusion, wondering what you were talking about.

"He was lying to me, about... well pretty much everything." You explained, feeling the sinking feeling in your heart.

You remembered finding out about all the lies. That the person you had spent so much time with had lied about everything good in his life. You didn't know him at all.

A memory sparked in Carmy's mind, he was back in New York. He was at a bar with you. After begging him week after week to go out for a drink with you, he gave in. Too many beers later, he blurted out his real thoughts on Nick. Looking back, he couldn't help but cringe on the way he acted. He couldn't even remember the exact words he said. But he remembers your reaction and the hurt in her eyes.

"W-What did I even say?" Carmy asked, squinting his eyes trying to think back harder.

You thought back to the memory. The loud music, sticky bar table and Carmy's messy hair across from you. You remember smelling beer on his breath and his words were slightly slurred. The haze in his eyes was getting thicker.

"Um.. you said that Nick was full of shit." You recalled and then smiled to yourself when you remembered more.

"And I quote 'He's playing you like a fuckin' fiddle'" Feeling a smirk climb onto your face.

Carmy rubbed his mouth down with his hand trying to hide his smile. But a smile broke through anyway.

"Jesus, I really have a way with words." He scoffed to himself, taking another gulp from the bottle.

You quietly laughed, bringing the beer up to your mouth.

Carmy brought his hand to his hair to scratch his head. He felt ashamed for his raw words. But he was grateful that you didn't hold it against him.

To say he struggled socially would be an understatement. He felt too awkward sometimes, to the point where he would be uncomfortable. Over the years of moving the way he did, he rarely had more than one or two friends at most. Those friends were mostly work colleagues.

"Can I ask you somethin'?" You asked bringing him out of thought.

He nodded, putting his empty beer bottle on the desk.

"How did your brother..." You trailed off, not knowing how to phrase your question.

"He killed himself, shot himself in the head," Carmy's said bluntly, crossing his arms avoiding eye contact with you. His stare never leaving the floor.

You stared at him and didn't say a word. For some reason, you just thought he died in a car accident. Your mind went blank for a moment only to realise what Carmy might be going through.

"Fuck Carmy, I'm so sor-"

"Don't." He interrupted, shaking his head.

"It's fine. Really." He shrugged getting up abruptly to the point it startled you a little.

He grabbed his empty beer bottle and gestured at you to see if you wanted another one.

You nodded absent-minded, still digesting the bomb he dropped on you.

He went to the kitchen and shook his head in annoyance while walking to the fridge. He felt like a shithead saying something like that so plainly. He didn't want to scare you away. It didn't help that he walked away straight after saying it.

Well fuckin' done, smooth as always, he thought to himself on his way to the fridge.

He came back with two new bottles and cracked them open with ease again. He placed yours on the desk in front of you.

You both sat there, not saying a word. He was never the type that was good with words. Usually talking got him into more trouble. His family were blunt and to the point. No feelings were ever spared in the household. He didn't want to be that way. Since moving away, he always made an effort to get better at communicating.

You looked over to see his leg shaking non stop. It was dumb for you to bring up his brother. You could have asked anyone else, and they would have told you.

You gulped down the last of your first one and pushed it onto the desk. Carmy held the neck of the bottle, resting it between his legs. He shifted in his seat, making you glance over at him.

"I didn't mean to unload this on you. For some reason, I thought you knew. It's fuckin' stupid for me to think that." He leaned forward resting his arms on his thighs.

"I-I'm sorry," He continued, resting his hand on your arm, looking up through his lids.

You looked down at his hand on your arm, the warmth of his hand on your wrist.

"You're the last person that's should apologise." You gave a weak smile resting your hand on top of his.

You both sat there, not saying anything. The peace you felt between both of you was something you missed since going your separate ways. You notice that his leg shake slowed down to a halt.

"If you need someone, you know I'm here, right?" You angled your head making sure to keep eye contact.

"Yea- yeah I know" He nodded pulling away and leaning back into his chair.

Since moving back to Chicago, he hasn't had a moment to himself to think. He didn't know if he even wanted one. He felt that if he stopped for one brief moment, that everything would catch up. His thoughts, feelings and grief. Him being next to you, gave him comfort. Having someone who knew him before his life turned into a shitshow. His old life where it was stressful but not chaotic. Not the way it is now.

He took out his pack of cigarettes, taking one out before turning the pack to you.

You quit smoking a year ago but didn't have the heart to deny his offer, especially after the heart wrenching conversation. You took one and got up from your seat grabbing the coat from the chair. You followed him out behind the building. His cigarette held between his lips as his zipped up his wool jacket shielding him from the sharp breeze. It was becoming dark, the fall evenings really settling in Chicago.

Carmy searched his pockets and pulled out a pink transparent lighter, flicking it with his thumb a couple of times before a small flame emitted from it. A glow was cast on his face, with the end of his smoke burning bright orange.

You gazed at him with the weight of guilt in your stomach. You started to think that maybe you weren't just there for management guidance. Maybe you were there for support. It was hard to tell, Carmy was never the type to speak his thoughts. That's what made this so difficult. How do you ask someone about something so sensitive?

You gave a quick smile as he leaned the lighter to you. You inhaled watching the cigarette catch a light before feeling the smoke travel down to your lungs. You exhaled letting out a sigh of relief, forgetting the bliss that smoking gave you. He looked up with his lip curled at the end blowing smoke out his nose.

"It's been awhile" You looked over smiling softly.

He gave a slight nodded, scratching his upper lip with his thumb while holding the cig.

Your denim jacket wasn't doing you any favors in this unforgiving cold, you brought your arms closer to your body. You didn't think Chicago was going to be this cold into Fall and took note that you needed to buy a heavier one.

"How long can you stay?" He asked walking over and sitting down to the weathered wooden bench.

You take a seat beside him thinking about your response.

"Uhhh, great question." You licked your lips after another pull.

How do you break it to him that you lost your job 3 months ago.

You clicked your pen over and over, sitting in the office on a late weeknight. As you looked at the roster for the upcoming weeks you double checked the bookings to make sure enough staff was around for the busy season to come. With people taking their PTO, it was a challenge every year that always left you with a nightmare to figure out. The knock on the door broke your focus and you looked up to see Vince popping his head in.

"Hey Vince" You smiled leaning back on the office chair.

"Hey" He closed the door behind him gently and you noticed something off immediately.

"How's things going?" He asked with soft tone stuffing his hands into his back pockets.

"Just the usual, it's the time of the nightmare PTO" You chuckled lightly.

"What's up?" You glanced at the clock on the wall noticing this was an off time for him to check in, 10pm on a Tuesday night.

He took a deep breath but keeping his gaze on the ground. You felt your stomach turn from the sudden change in atmosphere.

"I-I don't know how to say this." He stuttered.

Now you were real concerned, you sat up watching him. He was only a shadow of his usual self. The bearded man who would put a smile on your face when just being around his presence. He would check in on everyone to make sure there was no issues. He helped you become who you are today with everything he thought you when it came to managing a bustling restaurant.

"Marie, she's been diagnosed with ....cancer." His voice broke, you could tell he was holding back.

"What?" You said to yourself in disbelief. You saw her last week when she came in to check in. She looked fine, totally normal.

"But-" You stopped not wanting to say anything to upset him.

"Did you get a second opinion?" You asked after a moment, hearing about misdiagnoses can be a thing.

He nodded looking down at the ground. You could tell he was barely keeping it together. They've been together for decades and you knew this hit him to his core.

"It's stage 4" He whispered keeping his eyes on the floor.

You stared at him, not understanding the words coming out of his mouth. You've known them for years. You've grown as a manager here. You've been through the ups and downs, through the surreal covid time.

"I'm so sorry Vince-" You said sympathetically, getting up from the chair to try and comfort him.

He went on to tell you that they would have to shutdown the restaurant for the foreseeable future if not for good. They didn't have enough time nor money to keep the restaurant going and treat his wife for however long she had left. You started recommending things that might help them but it seemed that the decision was already made.

You watch him leave the office sorrowfully and in that instant felt completely lost. The roster that you were making, didn't matter. The new menus that were freshly printed on your desk didn't matter. You could hear Vince muffled voice from the kitchen. Most likely telling the rest of the staff the devastating news.

Two weeks later, you closed up the restaurant for the last time. After spending years there, you had no backup plan. It was completely unexpected.

The honking of a car down the street snapped you out of your trance.

"The thing is.." you paused flicking the ash off your cigarette.

"Vince shut up shop a couple of months ago" You blew smoke out of your mouth.

"What?" Carmy furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

You nodded dropping the butt on the ground smooshing it with you boot.

"Marie got cancer, terminal" You stated remembering the last phone conversation you had with Vince.

He sounded weak on other end of the phone. You called to check in knowing they needed all the support right now. He told you that she was in a hospice, making her comfortable and waiting for the inevitable.

"Last time I spoke to him, he said she only had a month left at most" You scrunched up your lips, your feelings whelming up inside.

Carmy sat there. He didn't say anything. You didn't want to tell him after everything he's been through but when it came to Marie passing you didn't want to shock him.

"Shit" He whispered, his head dropped.

You brought your hand over and rubbed his back. You didn't want to deliver the bad news but keeping something like that from him wasn't right either.

You could feel tears pricking up in your eyes and wiped them away quickly. You had no right to cry right now. You wanted to be there for Carmy.

Both of you sat there in silence. You wondered what he was thinking and wanted to not make him feel worse than he probably already did.

"I remember when you first started." You smiled to yourself while the memory ran through your mind.

"You came in so focused on what Vince was telling you. You wouldn't talk to anyone. You get in, do your work, stay late and then go home." You chuckled lightly to yourself.

You remember watching him as he watch Vince guided him. He would hang onto every word Vince said, like his life depended on it. People would crack jokes here and there especially when it was a slow night but Carmy wouldn't even crack a smile. He wasn't there to fuck around.

"I remember that one dick that screamed at me in front of a 12 top after his food was delayed and Vince came out and gave him an earful, 'emeber that?" You reminisced

Carmy sat back up and nodded, half smiling.

"I just remember being in the walk in and you burst in crying." He commented glancing over at you.

"I didn't even notice you were there at first. I was just in shock from getting screamed at in front of everyone"

You remembered looking over and seeing him with a container of sauce, frozen in place and staring at you completely startled. He came over asking what happened and through the sobbing you explained. Carmy gave you some words of reassurance knowing the bastard that screamed at you was just a cruel prick. It was the first time you talked to each other and it was nice to know he wasn't a complete robot.

He remembered seeing you in such distress with your eyes red and swollen. After hearing about what happened, he wanted to go in front and tell the motherfucker to get out of the restaurant. But he knew Vince was handling it. He never spoke much to you, but knew that you were nothing but nice to him and that you didn't deserve to be treated that way. Nobody deserved that.

After that day, Carmy and you would share some words through the shift and then those words turn to conversations which eventually lead to both of you hanging out at work.

"Wanna go back in?" Carmy nodded towards the door.

You both return to normal temperatures where you dethaw from being outside way longer than you should have been.

You made your way back to the office still wearing your jackets feeling the stiffness in your hands from the cold. You leaned over to checked your phone for it to light up, 7:30pm.

"Today flew by" You stretched out feeling the effects of sitting at a desk majority of the day. The cold didn't help either.

"Oh, so you never answered my question" Carmy rubbed his hands together to get some friction heat going.

"Uh... " You thought for a moment and clicked into what he was on about.

After coming to the realization that you were going to be jobless, you sat with the idea of maybe staying that way for awhile. You haven't taken any time off for summer in years. You thought if you didn't do it now that you never have another chance.

Your phone screen light up beside you on the couch, with a number you didn't recognize. You paused the movie and picked it up and hesitated for a moment before answering.

"Hello?"

"Hey, uhh.. it's Carmy" A smile immediately popped up on your face hearing the familiar voice on the other end.

It was a pleasant surprise and totally unexpected for you to hear from him. He explained the situation he was in and that he would really appreciate if you could stay for awhile to help him in any way. You thought to yourself about how it would be nice to visit an old friend. He explained he wouldn't be able to pay you right now but if he would figure something out. Money wasn't the issue. You had a nice little nest egg to fall back on for the unanticipated free summer you were going to have.

He asked if Vince would mind, giving you sometime off to help, even if it was for a couple of days. You avoided the topic and said that you could work something out. You were thankful that he didn't challenge you and accepted the answer.

"Oh staying yeah... well my flight is booked for the end of next week".

You saw a flash of disappoint in his face before he looked down at his hands. You didn't want to look too much into his reaction, but seeing him that way ping something in your chest for a split second.

"But.. if paperwork isn't sorted by then, I can always reschedule my flight" You offered with a smile.

"Yea, yeah of course. I don't wanna take you away from anythin' that you have going back home..." He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Carmy, I'm literally unemployed right now." You said bluntly glaring at him before breaking into a snicker.

"Anyway let's just wait til' the middle of the week and then I'll decide if I need more time." You explained, breaking into a yawn.

"Heard." Carmy nodded.

"Anyway, it's getting pretty late so I think it's time to close up" He stuffed his hands in this pockets, turning towards the swinging doors.

You started putting away the paperwork you were looking at, leaving the desk in a somewhat tidy state for the morning. Carmy did a round on the kitchen to double check everything was off before making his way back to the office.

It felt like nothing had changed between you two. After years of both you doing your own thing, when it came down to you both chilling, everything was the same. He watched you tidy up and could imagine this being the norm, you working here permanently. He instantly knew that you would slide right into this place. How easy it was for you to read people and get on with them. He also didn't want to have any expectation on you though.

It would be crazy to think just after 2 weeks you would even consider moving to Chicago for a job that wouldn't be paying you for God knows how long. He felt at ease when you were around him. Saying goodbye to that when you leave was going to be hard on him. But he didn't have time to lay on his feelings. There was a million things that still needed to get done in the restaurant. The restaurant that felt like it was going to crumble to the ground any second. He would be the one to witness it. He would be the one with the burden on his shoulders. Not Mikey.

Carmy pulled the door to check it was locked and stuffed the keys in his pocket. You both looked at each other giving a small smile.

"I'll see you tomorrow... Chef" You added taking a step back.

"See ya, Boss" Carmy developed an amused look turning down towards to street.

You rolled your eyes playfully and started walking further down the side walk crossing your arms, trying to keep your jacket as close to you as possible.

Carmy walked home feeling better than usual. Normally, he was always thinking about the next day and want needed to be done. What could make the restaurant more money. But, he caught himself not doing that, instead he was thinking about the evening he just spent with you.

His mind drifted back to the memories of him and you back in New York. Memories that he hasn't thought about it a long time. As much as he hated asking for help, he was glad he reached out to you. He was grateful that you were able to come out.

When he arrived home, he took off his jacket, kicked off his shoes and fell back onto the couch. He flicked through the channels not really paying attention to what he was watching. He felt his eyelids get heavy and within minutes he was asleep. It must have been the first time since moving back from New York that he fell asleep with such ease.

Chapter 3

Masterlist of other fics

[hearts4golbach]

The Night shift.

Chapter 9.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

new year, new me. new year, bolder me, I decided. luckily, I wasn't working on New years eve I invited Johnnie and Jake over to celebrate, get fucked up, and stay the night for new years.

"yooo, y/n!" Jake called as he walked in my door.

"I think we pregamed a little too hard." johnnie giggled with a weird accent.

"damn, you guys pregamed without me?" I asked as he passed me a few different alcohols. "you look like an alcoholic right now."

"it's new years! everyone's an alcoholic on new years!"

"so true. I'm about to get sooo fucked up!" I giggled, pulling the pizza I had made out of the oven.

"awe, fuck, man." johnnie couldn't stop giggling as he leaned against the counter. "I'm going to be covered in vomit and shit by the end of tonight."

"why would you be covered in shit, man..." Jake trailed off.

Johnnie slapped his arm. "you know what I meant, asshole." Jake gave him a look and he began to blush.

I raised an eyebrow. "are you two gay for eachother?"

"some people think we're lesbian women or gay men but-"

Jake cut him off. "if the boot fits..."

I squinted at them. "I mean, that's pretty accurate."

"y/n, stop trying to take my bitch." Jake rolled his eyes.

"whaaat are you talking about?" I asked sarcastically. Johnnie turned away to laugh, a darker shade of pink spread across his face.

"we will go right now, slut." he said in a high pitched voice, waving a pizza cutter at me.

"you're autistic." I replied normally, snatching the pizza cutter from him and proceeding to use it.

"what else do you got to drink up in this bitch?" he asked, walking over to the fridge.

"I have diet cock and diet mountain dew, or water or milk." I said, ripping off 3 paper towels ans getting everyone a few slices of pizza before putting the other in the oven.

"diet what the fuck?" johnnie asked.

"diet cock, my little twinks favorite." I smiled, pinching Jake's cheek.

"oh shit, Tara's calling." Jake said before stepping into the living room.

"who's tara?" I turned to johnnie.

"his ex. she's super chill though, so don't worry."

"okay, good." I sighed. "whats something you want to happen in 2024, like a goal or something."

his breath hitched at the question. "I can't tell you, it'll ruin it."

"wow." I replied, pretending to be hurt.

"you'll just have to wait and see." he smiled.

"okay." I shrugged

"do you have one?"

"I wanna be more outgoing."

johnnie remembered the talk we had. "oh, yeah. yours is good." he smiled. "I think you got it."

I rolled my eyes and laughed. "thank you, johnnie."

jake walked back into the room a minute later. "is it cool if Tara comes? she was ranting to me about how lonely she is."

"I don't care." I shrugged. "she can come." I smiled and told Jake the adress so he could send it to her.

less than 20 minutes later, there was a knock at the door.

"I'll get it." I said, dragging myself off of the couch. I opened my door to be met face to face with the same girl from the cafe.

"oh my god, hi!" she squeeled. "you have to give me updates. I'm tara." she shook my hand.

"hey, it's so nice to formally meet you. that was a weird first interaction." I giggled.

"so you two know eachother?" Jake pointed at us.

"she came into the cafe the other night and we talked about.. issues." I glanced at johnnie. he was already looking at me. his arms were crossed as he leaned against the doorframe to the kitchen.

"I think tara just found her new best friend." Jake looked towards johnnie. He simply nodded and giggled.

"you know it." she responded.

"so, we have like 6 different alcohols and pizza. I can make more pizza, too." I walked into the kitchen, taking the last slice of cold pizza.

"can we make more? I can put it in." Johnnie offered.

"what are you putting your dick in?" Jake asked, turning the corner and meeting us in the kitchen. "her?" he asked, pointing to me.

"shut the fuck up, dude." johnnie shoved him while he laughed.

I rolled my eyes. "if you don't mind, you can do it. I don't mind either way."

Johnnie's cheeks were bright pink. "okay, I don't mind, so I'll make it." he gave me a shy smile.

I cleared my throat and shot an awkward smile back. I quickly moved my hair out of my face and turned to tara. she glanced at johnnie then raised her eyebrows. "him?" she mouthed.

I looked away for a second to see johnnie digging in the freezer. I looked back and nodded once.

her hand flew over her mouth. "that's so cute, this is happening." she whispered in my ear before running into the living room to talk to Jake.

"uhm, they seem a little bit closer than exes." I scratched the back of my neck.

"yeah, they had a good breakup so they stayed friends. I'm sure deep down they really miss eachother, though."

"yeah, that's what it seems like." I paused, sitting on top of the counter. "whatever happened with your ex?"

"I still haven't heard from her." he glanced at me. "I don't think she'll ever fully leave me alone, though."

I frowned, crossing my arms. "isn't it basically stalking at this point? and isn't that illegal?

johnnie shrugs. "I have no clue, its weird."

I nodded, not knowing how to verbally respond. I picked up a few cups and one of the multiple alcohols and sat in the living room with Tara and Jake. he smirked at me, then immediately dropped his expression. "I know your secret." he said in a grim tone before smiling again.

I scrunched my eyebrows. "okay, then. who wants some?"

They said me in unison, and I heard johhnie ask from some from the kitchen.

"guys, we have to do a cheers video so I can post it." tara grinned.

"real." Jake nodded.

"okay." johnnie walked into the living room and sat next to me. I passed him his cup and held up mine.

"cheers!" Tara began

"cheers!" johnnie and jake said, mimicking her voice.

"that's so cute." I complimented, watching the video.

after about 3 shots, johnnie was fucked up.  His eyes slightly squinted as he narrated basically everything he did. Although, he usually ended his sentences with, "I need to shut the fuck up," or "I don't know why I said that."

I settled on just having one drink since I had to go to work tomorrow night. I was buzzed for sure, but I could think straight.

johnnie leaned against me, wrapping hid arm around my shoulders with a smile. "sooo," tara began, "Jake, will you be my new years kiss?"

he looked at her weird before a look of realization washed over his face. "of course. johnnie, when was your last new years kiss?"

"neverrr." he rolled his eyes.

"really? me neither." I laughed

"maybe you guys should!" tara nodded, giving Jake a look.

"yeah!" Jake agreed, but johnnie was too drunk to realize what they were doing.

I looked at johnnie. "you think me and y/n should kiss? wouldn't that be awkward cause we're just friends?"

"me and tara are just friends, there's nothing bad about kissing the homies." Jake smirked.

"I mean, y/n?"

"i- uh, I'm down." I stuttered.

Johnnie's gaze on me softened. "okay, me too."

tara rested her hand on her leg, palm up.  Jake gave her a quick high-five. "I saw that."

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Andy [S. R.]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Word count: 2.7k

summary: you and Spencer have to learn to deal with grief without losing your marriage in the process.

warnings: grief, death, angst with unhappy ending, separation, divorce, alcoholism, minor details of a murder, two totally different points of view (don't hate Spencer or the reader)

The set of keys jangled in Spencer's hands, who was struggling to open the door without dropping the shopping bags in his other hand. He tried to do the shopping with only healthy and non-hazardous things and lately he had started bringing some of your favorite sweets, hoping this might cheer you up in some way. 

When he entered, he assumed that you were asleep, as always, so he thought of going directly to the kitchen to place the food in the corresponding spaces, thinking that maybe after that he would clean up the place a bit. He never expected to find you sitting in the dining room and both of you were startled to see the opposite. There was half a bottle of wine in front of you, you were puffy-eyed and carefully holding a photo that Spencer recognized perfectly. He noticed that you had lost some weight and you noticed the same characteristic in him, coupled with the marked bags under his eyes that evidenced the lack of rest. But in fairness, he hadn't had a decent night's sleep in a while.

"What are you doing here?"

“I brought groceries,” he reported, though it was obvious. Spencer reached over to the fridge to rearrange things and he noticed that almost all of last week's food were there. The milk was out of date, some of the vegetables were blackened, and there were a couple of bottles of alcohol that he definitely hadn't bought for you but always turned up there. He brought the garbage can closer and began to get rid of the rotten food, replacing it with the contents of the bags. "You have to eat something, there are things in here that you didn't even touch."

“And that's why I insist that you don't bring so much. Don't waste your money”

“It's not about the money. It's about you” he said in a stern voice and when he turned to look at you, he noticed that you weren't even looking at him.

He continued to organize things in the fridge while out of the corner of his eye he watched you take occasional gulps straight from the bottle. Before, it was the task of both of you to put the purchases in the cupboards and it had become a habit, because he liked to make you suffer with the high spaces of the cupboard just to accommodate things himself and take the opportunity to steal a kiss, which you always complained about.

He was so lost in memories that he couldn't understand you when you muttered something and then he asked you to repeat it.

"We promised to take him to Disneyland," you said, your slurred words a clear sign of drunkenness. You were holding a picture of Andy's 6th birthday: he was blowing out the candles while you and Spencer held him on either side, grinning from ear to ear. You had bought some green party hats, Andy's favorite, for the three of you to wear and the cake was a dinosaur, your son's absolute obsession “Somehow he found out they were going to have a Cretaceous world attraction and he was dying to go. We told him that when we had vacations, we would take him and to comfort him we bought him an illustrated book."

He perfectly remembered what you were telling him and a lump formed in his throat. That book was kept carefully on the small shelf in his room, along with the figures that multiple people had given him and with which he loved to play, since neither of you had had the heart to move a single object that was there.

Spencer was silent because he simply didn't know how to respond to what you had just reminded him, but he couldn't help but his stomach turned at the thought of your little boy. Although two months had passed, he hadn't even allowed himself to talk about what happened, and very rarely did he think about your son. Not because he didn't want to do it, but because he felt that if he did, things were going to completely collapse and he wasn't in a position to let that happen, not when he had so many responsibilities to fulfill.

Receiving no response, you tried to drink again, but Spencer didn't take more than a second to cross over to you to take the wine from your hands.

"Stop"

"Give it to me," you defended, standing up to try to take your drink back, but he held it just far enough out of your reach.

"You cannot continue that way"

"That's none of your business"

“Of course it is. You are my wife and I care about you."

Spencer hated the way you looked at him since that night. He felt that you were looking at him with contempt, as if he wasn't even worth your eyes on him, as if you had stopped loving him completely. And now you were looking at him like that while he was holding the alcohol you'd been drowning in for the past few weeks. 

"I don't need your pity" you practically spat, standing in front of him, but at a safe distance.

He didn't want to answer anything, for fear of hurting you in some way, so he just went to the sink to start emptying the contents of the bottle. Of course you squealed in offense at what he was doing and just headed for the fridge to get something else to drink, but before you could Spencer got in the way.

"You need help" he murmured, with a tone that reflected nothing more than the desperation he was going through. You looked at him, from below, with the same disdain that completely broke his heart "You are not okay"

"How do you expect me to be okay? I lost my son"

"He was our son," he said, suddenly sounding quite angry. It was so rare for him to get angry, much less when it came to you, but these two months had been too much to bear "Do you think I don't suffer the same as you?"

"No, I honestly don't think so. We never talked about this, Spencer, we just cried profusely at the funeral and then you carried on like nothing happened. All this time you have seemed so calm that I doubt very much that it will affect you”

“You are so wrong. You don't even know what you're talking about. Do you think it's easy for me? I have to go and work in a place where I see murderers and dead bodies all the time so that both of us can eat, pay the mortgage and basically keep our economy afloat because you decided to sink into depression and drink like a barrel without background"

“Oh, do you really want to talk about addiction problems? Because I don't think you're the best fit for that."

"Unlike you, I have not relapsed"

"Okay, then forgive me for being a weak dueling drunk."

“It's not about that, it's about the fact that you don't want anyone to help you. I hired a therapist that you decided not to go to, I have bought you everything you need in recent weeks, I have even stopped sleeping in my own house, all so that you feel calm”

"I never asked you for that, don't justify with it the fact that you wanted to leave"

"Well, maybe I left because every time I come here to check on you, you ignore me and look at me as if it was all my fault"

"Maybe it was"

"What did you say?"

"I said maybe it was" you exclaimed, now a little louder to make sure he heard you. You didn't mean any of that, you really didn't, it was just all the alcohol speaking for you “It was yours and it was my fault that man took our son from us. We should have done more"

“How, Y/N? Please explain to me how you want that, because I honestly don't understand you."

"Well maybe I should have been a better mother, because if I had been I should be dead instead of him" at this point it was useless to try to stop your crying. You were tired, dizzy, and hurt. You just wanted the whole nightmare to end “Spencer that man killed Andy just because you provoked him and you know it perfectly. He wanted revenge on you and decided that the best way to do it was to kidnap an innocent child and then kill him and then simply throw him on the side of the road. He could have hidden the body, but he wanted you to find it. He wanted us both to know that we couldn't question him like that without suffering the consequences."

"And that's why you see me as the cause of all your suffering?" tears had also started to roll down the man's cheeks, who was just as bad at holding them back as you were “Y/N I had to go identify Andy's body. I had to see him in a morgue, bruised and…” suddenly his voice broke completely. He had never told you things because he didn't want to stress you out anymore, but he felt that after everything that was happening there was no point in continuing to protect you “I barely knew it was him. He was completely deformed, I only recognized him by that scar he got on his knee when he fell from the swings and as soon as my fingers passed through it and felt the frozen skin I was completely destroyed. I had… I had to see my little boy in that state just so we both would have peace and yet you dare to say that I don't care."

“If you didn't have that job none of this would have happened to begin with! That has always been the problem, that as a family we had to compete with your work as a profiler”

"So you expected me to give up my life's work overnight?"

"I did. I quit my job to be able to raise our son.”

"And I had to stay in mine to be able to give him everything he needed"

“And look at us now. What of that did we do well? We weren't good parents and now I don't even think we're a good couple”

You two knew that this conversation was useless. You always knew Spencer went to superhuman lengths to spend time with your family, and you couldn't blame him for anything. He knew everything you had given up to take care of the housework and raise Andy. And when there were bad days, you were there for each other, but at that very moment you weren’t thinking straight. Your judgment was clouded by the pressing pain that was building up.

 “Y/N, why are you doing this to me?” his voice sounded so sincere and wounded, that even with the unconsciousness caused by the alcohol you felt a pull in your heart. Spencer was silent for a moment, a lump in his throat, and when he finally got up the courage he spoke again, “When Andy died I thought… I was devastated. I am devastated. But even with everything I thought that… I thought that I still had you. I thought together we could get through this and now you're telling me you're not even sure this is working. I try to take care of you, but you refuse to eat, you refuse to go to a therapist, you drink and sleep all day and I don't know what else to do."

"I just want you to be here, Spencer."

"I am"

"No, it's not true"

“I am supporting you, I do everything in my power to make sure you are well”

“But I don't want you to take care of me like someone sick, I just want you to be my husband! I just want you to stop pretending nothing is happening, just sit here and cry with me... I don't want you to support me, I want you to love me”

Both of you looked at each other for a second, your vision blurred by accumulated tears.

“Every day I wake up and I am strong just because I love you. You are the one who seems to no longer love me"

How could things work when the two of you offered such different things and needed such different things? Spencer thought you didn't love him anymore, you thought he didn't love you anymore, and neither of you knew what to do about it. You wanted him to be there but not the way he did and that's why you pushed him away. He walked away because he thought you didn't want him with you anymore.

But those were things none of you understood, and probably no one could. Mourning was a complicated, heartbreaking, but above all confusing process.

And, as much as he evaded reality, Spencer knew that it was a matter of time before you two broke up permanently. He knew the statistics; he knew that a large number of couples divorced after the death of a child and the numbers were more decisive than his hopes of maintaining the marriage with you. So, if these were the conversations you guys were having at one of the few times you saw each other, perhaps the threat of disbandment was closer than he imagined.

Suddenly the ringing of your husband's phone rang and you could tell by the look on his face what kind of text it was.

"A case" you guessed bitterly "It's always a case, right?"

A part of you desperately hoped that he would ignore the message, come up to you with an apology, and tell you that he would stay right there with you. But the utopian version your mind created didn't look like the real situation at all, where he just gave you a pained look from behind those teary eyes.

"I promise I'll be back. I'll come and… we can talk about all this when we're calmer. We can try to fix it, things don't have to be that way."

“But that's how they are,” you muttered, shrugging, as another message rang on Spencer's phone.

You wanted to tell him that if he really wanted to make things right with you he'd send the FBI to hell and stay there to talk, but you held back because you simply thought it was useless to do that. You were tired, so you were just going to let it go; you told him to come back whenever he wanted, without much interest in when that would be, and new dizziness hit your head from the decision you had just made.

You didn't push him away when he approached to hold your face, with a softness that surprised you, and he left you a kiss on the forehead, one of those you'd received thousands of but now it felt so strange to share.

The case dragged on into the next day, and the entire time Spencer pondered your words. Maybe he was right about some things, but you are right about others too. Perhaps if you tried to understand each other things could improve and if both of you reached an agreement little by little you would return to being a married couple and not just two people going through the loss of a child. It was worth stopping avoiding the problem and facing it to be able to be not only with you, but also for you. 

When he got home, the silence made him think that you were resting, and he still wanted to be able to lie next to you to simply hug you without saying anything. In a matter of a few seconds, so many nights passed through his mind in which he had loved you, in which you had feared and he had protected you, and those in which you had been immensely happy talking for hours until the sun bathed your face. You hadn't shared a decent kiss since Andy's funeral and suddenly the need to taste your lips became urgent, not to satisfy itself but to tell you how much he loved you. He had been an idiot these months, too busy not to break down to realize what was falling around him.

But upon reaching the room and turning on the light, all his hopes were shattered by a half-empty closet, a bed without you and a letter resting on the nightstand.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14

[welldonebeca]

The Triplets (3)

Summary: Lizzie moves in with her favourite honorary Uncle, Beau, to find work in a big city, and starts sharing a house with him and his other two twins brothers. The triplets - Dean, Ben and Beau - couldn't be more different and more similar at the same time. One thing they all share? Well, they all want to fuck her, of course. Pairing: Ben "Soldier Boy" x Lizzie (OC), Beau Arlen x Lizzie (OC), Dean Winchester x Lizzie (OC). Warnings: Emotional hurt/comfort. Alcohol. Fluff. Quiet sex. Size difference. Size kink. Virginity loss. Virginity kink. Oral sex. 

Lizzie didn’t leave her room after that, even skipping dinner.

She had almost fucked Ben right there!

What was wrong with her? Was she really gonna throw away her virginity like that? To the first guy to kiss her in the middle of the corridor, where anyone could find them?!

But the way he kissed her…

His lips were so soft and his beard rubbed against her face…

She had made herself cum for an hour straight before falling asleep, and now it was past midnight and she couldn’t sleep.

Lizzie was hungry, embarrassed and horny, a horrible combination.

So she listened and listened for any movement outside, and put on a baggy shirt over her panties, walking out in bare feet. Everyone was asleep, thank goodness.

Maybe there were leftovers in the fridge.

Instead of food, though, she found a six-pack, cool and taunting her.

Food be damned, she needed a good buzz.

She pulled it out and went to the living room, opening a can a nursing it while looking for the remote, so she could flip through channels, watching a random game show mindlessly.

“What are you doing?” she heard all of a sudden.

Lizzie jumped, nearly falling down the couch.

Oh my God, she was sitting all spread, her clothes were a mess, had he seen anything?

She quickly grabbed a pillow and covered her thighs.

“Sorry,” Dean approached her quickly. “Are you alright?”

She blushed, embarrassed, and nodded quickly.

“Yes,” she confirmed. “I’m just… watching TV.”

Dean nodded stiffly.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m fine,” she insisted. “I just got … thirsty”

Dean’s eyes darted to the beer in her hand, but nodded, a little more relaxed.

“Right,” he agreed. “Thirsty.”

She flushed, looking away, and Dean sat down by her side.

“Look,” he spoke softly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude to you.”

Lizzie blinked, confused.

“What?”

“The way I talked,” he explained. “I’m not good with people sometimes. I can be an asshole.”

Oh, right. She remembered that now.

She had forgotten it after Ben put his tongue inside her mouth.

“It’s alright,” she insisted.

Dean just shook his head.

“I know I upset you,” he insisted. “You didn’t do anything wrong, you were just looking at the car.”

Lizzie moved, a little unsure.

“It’s a nice car,” she mumbled. “I understand you being protective of it.”

Dean smiled, relaxing.

“It was my dad’s,” he told her. “Don’t tell the guys, but I’m pretty sure we were made in that car.”

She snorted a laugh, surprised.

“Really?”

He shrugged.

“We might,” he elbowed her playfully. “I like to think I was the first and the other two are a corrupted version of me, you know? From the whole copying process.”

That made her laugh out loud, which Dean seemed to like.

“It’s why I have a different name,” he told her. “They thought they were having twins, so dad suggested Benjamin and Beaumont. I came out first, I was Benjamin, then Ben came and he was Beaumont.”

She nodded and he then chuckled.

“But then,” he raised a finger. “Beau came out. And they realised we were triplets. So, they did a reshuffle of the names. Ben became Benjamin, Beau became Beaumont, and I became Dean, because I’m the oldest, and mum wanted to pay homage to her mother.”

That was… messy.

“Let’s just say I got teased a lot for being named after grandma Deanna,” he sighed. “But I was her favourite, anyway.”

She giggled, but frowned a little, resting her head on the couch, a little buzzed.

“I wish I knew more about my mum,” she confessed, lips a little loose.

Dean’s face softened.

“What happened?” he asked.

Lizzie sipped her beer for a moment and sighed.

“She got sick when I was a kid,” she told him. “And… well, you know.”

Died.

He frowned.

“I didn’t know you had lost your mother.”

She smiled sadly, looking at him.

“Dad tried to work on his own with me, but then he remarried,” she told him. “It’s his wife that you have met.”

Dean hummed along.

“And I guess you don’t like her, then,” he supposed.

Lizzie clicked her tongue.

“Nope,” she agreed with him. “Not at all.”

She started to drink more at the thought, and dean follows along with her, picking one of the cans and drinking along.

“I get it,” he told her. “My mom died first, and I felt like I had to fill her shoes. I practically did.”

Lizzie rested her head on his shoulder slowly, and Dean reached for her free hand, giving it a squeeze, a soft comfort without the need of explaining themselves.

“Thanks for talking with me...” she sighed, a little slow on her lips. “I think you’re the first person who’s ever gotten it.”

He looked at her, lips parted, and she looked at him.

Lizzie really didn’t know who broke their stare, but in a minute his lips were in hers and he was kissing her hungrily.

It was different from the way Ben had kissed her.

Dean kissed her softly, giving her space, but desperately, as if he needed her to survive.

“Lizzie,” he sighed, a hand of his moving around her waist to pull her closer.

He moved her slowly, until she was laying on the couch with him on top of her, and Lizzie push her hand under his clothes, pushing his shirt up.

Dean pulled away for a moment,

“We should-” he looked at her. “Lizzie, we’re drunk.”

“No we’re not,” she shook her head, kissing his lips again.

Dean kissed her lips back eagerly.

“Fuck me,” she whimpered. “Please, Dean.”

Dean closed his eyes, resting his head on her shoulder, and pushed her shirt up, pulling it over her head.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he kissed her neck. “Just be quiet for me, alright? Can’t let them hear you.”

She nodded, and he looked down at her body with a smirk on his lips.

“Such cute little tits,” he cooed, kissing the middle of her chest.

Lizzie squirmed, flushing and feeling her cunt warm and wet.

“Dean,” she whined.

“So cute,” he praised her, and licked her nipple. “You’re such a cute little thing, aren’t you, Lizzie?”

She whimpered, trying to pull his shirt up.

“I wanna see you too,” she pleaded.

Dean sat back, pulling his shirt and tossing it down to the floor near them.

He looked a little softer than Ben, less chiselled, but strong nonetheless.

He kissed the way down her body and then up again, kissing her lips, and she felt him moving over her.

“Hey,” he pulled back suddenly. “When was the last time you got tested?”

She blinked, a little confused.

Tested.

“How long has it been since you last had sex?” he asked.

Lizzie opened and closed her mouth.

She could lie.

Lying was easy.

“It’s… been a while,” she squeaked. “I’m clean.”

Dean squinted a little.

“How long?” he asked.

She bit her lower lip, and he raised his chin slowly before kissing down her neck.

“Are you a little virgin, little Miss?” he bit her earlobe.

Lizzie squirmed, blushing, and whined when he put a hand between her legs.

“Is this why your cunt is so wet just by my kisses?” he pulled her panties aside, pushing his finger between her folds.

“Yes,” she squeaked, unable to keep the lie to herself.

His hand squeezed her more and Dean pulled away, looking at her with a darkened gaze.

She was shocked when he tore her panties.

“They are my favourite!” Lizzie protested.

“I’ll buy you more,” Dean pinched her clit, making her moan and jump. “I’ll buy you a ton more.”

He kissed her to shut her up before kissing down her neck.

Then her chest.

Down to her stomach.

And then her pussy.

“Dean?” she asked, unsure.

He looked up at her and simply stuck out his tongue, licking her folds from her entrance to her clit.

“Let me prep you, little thing,” he hummed. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it good.”

She nodded, holding back a whimper, and Dean smirked.

“Be quiet, we don’t want the whole house to hear you.”

He licked her hungrily, and Lizzie had to grab a pillow to muffle her moans.

“So fucking sweet,” he grunted.

He licked and sucked her clit, pushing two fingers into her cunt and spreading them.

His fingers feel so thick, bigger than any toy she’s used, but she was always afraid about putting stuff inside her. It always hurt.

But Dean didn’t.

Her eyes nearly crossed when she arched her hips to his lips, flooded with pleasure.

“Dean,” she pressed the pillow to her mouth. “Please.”

He squeezed her hips tighter, devouring her.

Fuck, she was going to cum.

She was so loose and tipsy she couldn’t stop herself even if she wanted to.

Lizzie came with little whimpers and crying, squirming under him.

Dean crawled up her body while she was still shaking a little, and kissed her lips hungrily again, making her taste her own wetness as his cock nudged between her folds.

“Look at me,” he whispered into her lips.

She obeyed, looking at his face, and Dean was gazing deeply at her face.

"Are you sure?" he asked softly. "We can stop if you want to."

His eyes were so sweet. Dean was so sweet.

“I want you, Dean,” she told him. “I am sure.”

Dean smiled and kissed her lips again, moving a hand down to between her legs, and she felt his cock nudging into her entrance.

He pushed into her slowly moving his nose over hers as he did, biting her lower lip and holding her tight.

It was new.

He was big.

Very big.

Large, stretching her, like nothing had ever done before.

Dean moved closer to her and pushed his face into the crook of her neck as she gripped his shoulder, trying not to make any sound, but Lizzie squealed anyway when he moved his hand to play with her clit, rubbing it tightly.

“Good girl,” he grunted. “Taking my cock so sweetly, all wet for me.”

“Dean,” she whined.

He moved his hips shallowly, rubbing and rubbing, not even moving much, nearly just humping her.

“Wanna feel you cum,” he grunted into her neck. “Sweet little virgin, all needy for me.”

She moaned more, trembling under him, sensitive.

“Gonna eat your pussy every day,” he grunted into her neck. “Devour your little cunt.”

Lizzie closed her eyes, covering her mouth with a hand, near another orgasm. Ben had kissed her stupid earlier, and Dean was finishing the job by fucking her dumb.

“Cum for me, pretty girl,” he grunted into her ear. “Cum for me and I’ll cum in you, I’ll fill you up and make that virgin cunt all messy.”

“Yes,” she panted. “Yes, Dean.”

His lazy thrusts became faster and harder, and Lizzie came again just as he started slamming into her cunt so hard she knew she would be a little bruised later.

Suddenly, he stopped and moaned into her neck, and he came, throbbing in her and filling her in a strange way.

Lizzie was already sleepy when he stopped, and Dean nearly slumped against her before turning her around and laying her on his body.

“Good girl,” Dean squeezed her, cock still in her and hands holding her tight, like he was afraid to let her go. “Just mine.”

. . .

"The Triplets" was posted on Patreon on January 2023. To read it now before anyone else and read the sequels "The Livestream (Ben x Lizzie)", "patience is a virtue (Dean x Lizzie)" and "the pictures (Beau x Lizzie)", subscribe to my page! It's just $2 a month and it helps a lot.

. . .

[samptlay]

To My Sweetheart Who Carries A Wounded Heart Ch. 11

Series Masterlist, Chapter 1 🤍, Chapter 2 🖤, Chapter 3 🤍, Chapter 4🖤, Chapter 5🤍, Chapter 6🖤, Chapter 7🤍, Blade & Reader's Relationship, Chapter 8🖤, Chapter 9🤍, Chapter 10 🖤

Special Thanks to @msun1c0rn @uhfhfhfhf @klemen-time @delulu-val @skyl8ver @ssecylia @xdrin & ALL of my taglist. I love you all so much 💕

Donuts? The delicious creamy-filled cloud of fluffiness that has you head over heels in love the first time you tried them over 20 years ago? And who would believe that they would show up at your doorstep being carried by your soulmate? Maybe you were exaggerating by calling him that but you two understood each other more than anyone else could. Looking up from the pink box you were staring at for too long, you’re met with crimson eyes pouring into your own, a small smile on the man’s face.

“Do those happen to be for me?” You smile back, opening the door wider to let Ren inside to which he happily accepts the invitation and heads inside before you close the door behind him and take the box from his hands as he removes his slides. “You know I don’t like sugar, so they aren’t for me.” He chuckles while hanging up his keys before you both go to the kitchen.

You set down the box of Sweet Haven on the counter while Ren invites himself to your fridge and grabs a can of root beer, knowing he doesn’t even have to ask since you specifically buy a whole pack for the fridge for him and only him to drink when he comes over. Levi enjoys alcohol and keeps a lot in the house while Ren finds it displeasing, and with how much he comes over, you didn’t want your friend to have anything to sip on during his (often, though not too many since you’re married and it would seem inappropriate) visits.

Just the thought of you going out of your way to buy things for the time you two spend together makes him want to latch onto your body and never let go, and Ren’s sure you wouldn’t mind that much. It’s not his fault you decide to do all this but like you always say, it’s the little things that count.

When he turned around and leaned against the fridge while opening the can, he couldn't help but observe your eyes lighting up at the sweets when you opened the box. Ren found it enduring. Since the box was yours, either way, you just stuffed one in your mouth while turning to him.

“Thanks for being here right now, and for bringing these. I needed company and I have no idea where Levi is.” At your husband's name, you could visibly see Ren's expression harden a bit, and it would have made you giggle any other day but you weren't in the mood for humor and he didn't look as sarcastic as usual.

“So he left you alone on this day, without even letting you know?” You swore you could almost see a blood vessel on his body pop, and immediately felt the need to soothe his concerns. “Right now is hard for both of us, I don't blame him so please call down, he’s dealing with this in his way.”

There you go again, always defending him even though he can see the hurt in your eyes. Ren was about to open his mouth to call him out himself and let you know that you deserve better, (Quite literally, he wasn't going to boost himself but inform you of how he should be here.) However, you opened your mouth again before he could.

“Though, I… He asked for some space from me yesterday night and I didn't want that. I want to be anything but alone right now. You know I don't like distance, I hate it. He should know that I would want to stick together as well, so why..? Do you think he's starting to resent me? Do you think he blames all of this on me? He-”

You fall silent once you look up to see Ren in front of you, one thumb wiping away the tears that have formed in your eyes, oblivious to you. His other arm was unoccupied, made its way to your waist, and held you tight against his chest. He was offering you comfort and you couldn't be more grateful.

“...It wasn't your fault. I'm aware of what you might be thinking right now but believe me. Don't beat yourself up over this it's him, his fault-”

It's all Ren can say at the moment, and he so desperately wished he could say more but his mind was blank if it was any other thought concerning you. Yet you didn't defend or deny what he said, proving it to be true in his eyes. He couldn't stand seeing you like this, your tears were so foreign to him and they broke his heart.

You can feel his broad muscles flex as he still keeps one arm around your waist as he reaches across the counter, grabs a tissue, and slowly brings it to your face, as if not to alarm you. It makes you warm inside, the fact that he's always been so gentle with you. Even as he wipes all the tears away you can feel he's doing it gingerly.

However, it wasn't warm enough for you. You still can't stand touching your stomach without almost gagging, you still can't think about the life lost, your very baby lost at your own hands. Ren knows his warmth isn't enough either when he feels and sees you trembling in his arms and the streams down your cheeks seem never-ending so he sighs and places the tissue down and replaces it in his hand, cradling your face back and forth.

It made you smile a little bit and you were about to apologize for embarrassing yourself like this but only a choked sob came out. You drop your head to his shoulder and everything that's been building up since yesterday pours out of your soul. You knew Ren wasn't judging, you knew he would never think of you negatively in any way and he knew you needed him right now.

~

After Ren had carried you to your living room and warmed you up into a blanket, he put on your favorite show and sat beside you. He wasn't reaching out to touch you, though it took everything in him to hold back from doing so every time he heard a sniffle from you.

He wanted to hold you, he really did and Ren knew you wouldn't deny him even if you felt guilty, but the thing is you're still a married woman. So for now he'll settle with being the one to comfort you as you grieve. After an hour, he can hear your soft breath hitting his neck. He recognizes the pattern in your breathing and doesn't even need to look down to know you're asleep. He'll carry you to your bed in a moment and stay in the guest room until you wake up and the two of you could talk again. Ren just has a feeling your husband won’t be showing up any time soon.

~

A/N: I'm backk! School's done and I have a lot of time on my hands so expect more updates, at MAX every two weeks (keyword, MAX) I'm sorry for the wait, thank you all for the encouragement to keep writing, otherwise I believe the hiatus would have lasted longer. I love you all. Also, I want to give a special thanks to a bunch of my taglist for always supporting my work and for the encouragement I got from them. They don't realize how much I adore them.

Taglist:

@uhfhfhfhf @xdrin @msun1c0rn @umi-adxhira @lovingnahida @strrawb3rrysh0rtcak3 @ssecylia @skyl8ver @immahuman @meowmeowraven @01234 @markexplanation @esthelily @dawnofazrael @chickenalfredo4life @eccaza @jun-xiu @klemen-time @delulu-val @everi-eve @cluelesstoeverything @strangersomeone @lapinaenmicoche @alwayslegendarymoon @lumiiiiiiiiii @superninjaarbiter

Borders by @cafekitsune

[dumfanting]

Strap In, ch 1: Surprise

AO3 Link

Rating: E, explicit

Warnings: alcohol, Tech is shy, meet-cute, kissing, makeouts, nipple play, oral sex (F receiving), squirting, handjobs, penetration (F receiving), PiV, creampie, cum eating, Dom reader, Sub Tech, enthusiastic consent | Notes: Fem reader, second person pov, present tense

This one is long overdue! I’ve had the idea since I finished “Orders” over two years ago. This first chapter has been sitting, 99% complete, in my drafts for weeks, and I finally found two seconds to finish it up and post. This one breaks the pattern of the first two in that a single chapter is over 5k words, and we got to the good stuff right away, neither of which was planned. I had to take a break midway through the final part, so you should enjoy it as much as I did. (Also using updated banners for the first time)

5872 words

F! Reader/ Tech

“When I noticed he doesn’t leer, it was a nice change of pace. He doesn’t clam up with any of the others that work here either, so I can put two and two together.”

You’ve had busy nights before, but that was on the small backwater planet you left behind, and a busy night in a Coruscant bar is literally worlds away from what you’re used to. When your manager, a pretty older Chiss woman named Jenko, had shown you around about an hour before opening, it didn’t seem so bad, just much larger than the small cantina you came from. However, almost as soon as the place opened, 79s was overflowing with clones. A few platoons of soldiers had returned to the capital earlier than expected. 

It’s been an exhausting night so far. Your feet are aching, you haven’t eaten in hours, and the persistent wave after wave of men hitting on you is doing nothing to improve your mood. It had been flattering at first, but after hearing the same lame pickup line from three different people within an hour, the novelty wore off quickly. 

You find a brief reprieve when your manager notices that someone isn’t taking your polite ‘no’ for an answer and quickly marches over. 

“I’ve told you two times already tonight to leave the staff the fuck alone, and if I have to repeat myself again I will personally kick you out on your ass,” she says to the man, her red eyes narrowed as she steps in front of you. He grumbles something in response before drunkenly stumbling away as she shakes her head at him. 

“You can’t be nice with these guys,” Jenko says, her voice stern but her expression understanding. 

“Yeah, I can see that now,” you say, unconsciously rubbing your temple. Jenko asks when you last ate. 

“Uh, about an hour before we opened, I think?” you say, turning from the bar and starting to wash a mountain of used glasses in a basin nearby. Your hands are trembling just enough for you to lose your grip on a heavy flagon and drop it at your feet, where it shatters. You curse under your breath and glance around for something to clean it up with. Jenko holds a steadying hand to your shoulder, stopping you. 

“Go take a break in the office honey, we can handle it up here for half an hour,” she says. You’re about to protest, but a loud growl from your stomach cuts you off. Jenko turns you around and gently pushes you toward the long hallway that leads to the refreshers, supply closet, and manager's office. You sigh, but make your way down the poorly lit hall. 

As you go, you’re too focused on whatever Jenko might have in her mini fridge to pay much attention to where you’re going, so it’s no surprise when you run into someone. Having walked face-first into them, you stumble backward and trip over your own feet, landing flat on your ass. You blink a few times before looking up to see who you’d run into. From your perspective on the floor, he’s very tall and almost intimidating, though he appears just as startled as you are. He hesitates, then offers his hand and pulls you back to your feet. 

“Apologies, I-I didn’t see you there,” he says, nervous. He takes a step back and you know he’s looking you up and down, but, unlike everyone else that night, it doesn’t bother you. Besides, you’re doing the same, now that you can see him a little better. He’s wearing what appears to be modified clone-issue armor, but he doesn’t look like any of the other soldiers you’d been dealing with; he’s slightly taller, leaner, and most importantly, sober. His goggles, and the dark, inquisitive eyes behind them stand out most to you though, and you feel your heart beat faster when they meet your own. 

He seems to realize that he’s staring after a moment, then shakes himself before taking another step back. The entire encounter has caught you both off guard, and it takes you a moment to realize that he’d said something. 

“I didn’t see you either, sorry,” you say, trying not to stumble over your words as you speak. 

“Are you alright?” he asks. His voice is different too, almost soft spoken, and his words are thoughtful, deliberate. 

“Y-yeah, I’m fine,” you say, slightly embarrassed. You don’t give him time to respond, and instead move around him before slipping into the office, leaving him in the hallway looking mildly confused. 

Around an hour or so later, things are calming down as many of the men leave for the night, which thins the crowd significantly. Every now and then you’ll glance around, wondering where the guy you bumped into had gone. You eventually spot him at a round table at the back of the room with four other men. They don’t look like the other clones either, save for one, and you can’t help yourself from asking Jenko if she knows who they are. 

“Oh, them?” she says, glancing in their direction from behind the bar where you both are standing. 

“Freaks is what they are, fuckin’ lab experiments. Them and the half droid,” comes a drunken mumble from the patron in front of you. You look over and see it’s the same guy who’d been so persistent with you earlier. “Keep your distance. ‘Sides, I’ll take better care of you,” he continues. 

Jenko looks as if she was about to tell him off, but you beat her to the punch. 

“Says the guy that still hasn’t realized he’s dumped his drink into his chest plate. I’ll take my chances on my own,” you say, disgust evident in your tone and on your face.

“Aw, c’mon baby, don’t be like that,” he says, reaching for your arm. As soon as he does, Jenko grabs him by the wrist and twists his arm around, immediately pulling his attention away from you and making him yelp.

“Three strikes asshole, now leave on your own before I kick you out myself,” she spits before letting him go. He calls her a ‘psycho bitch’ under his breath, but obeys and leaves the building. 

“‘Lab experiments’. So they are clones?” you say, otherwise not acknowledging what just happened. 

“Yeah, as far as I know,” Jenko says as she wipes up the mess left behind on the bar. She looks over and sees you watching them. “Mind that one with the toothpick,” she continues. You make a questioning sound at her, so she keeps talking. “You definitely can’t be nice with him,” she says. 

“Noted,” you say, shaking your head. “And the rest?” 

“Big guy’s loud, but friendly. Other two are polite. That one with the goggles barely speaks,” she says. She straightens up and gives you an appraising look. “Why?” she asks. 

“Oh, no reason,” you say, looking away from them, and her. 

“I may not know much about you, but I can already tell you’re a bad liar,” Jenko says, laughing a little. 

“I walked into the quiet one earlier in the back, that’s all,” you say, still not looking at her in an attempt to hide the soft flush on your face. 

“Well, don’t expect to see them very often,” she says, then drops the subject. 

It seems that Jenko was wrong, as you do, in fact, see the unusual clones at least once every week or two after that, which is often enough to memorize their regular orders. It eventually reaches a point where, when you see them come in through the door, you’ll have their drinks already made and bring them over once they’ve been seated. The first time you did this, the one you’d run into was nervously shaking so much that he spilled his drink when you handed it to him. Thinking about it later, you hoped that meant he was just as interested in you as you are in him. 

As much as you want to go talk to him, you never seem to have time while on shift; you’ve proven to Jenko to be a dependable worker and there are other regulars that monopolize your attention. While you work, you’ll occasionally glance at the table in the back, wondering if the one you’d bumped into would ever come and talk to you. After several weeks passed and he still hadn’t made a move, you’re disappointed, but accept what you interpret as disinterest. 

One night, after enough time has passed for you to be bumped up to assistant manager, the odd clone with the toothpick, whom you learned was named Crosshair, slinks his way over to where you are at the quieter end of the bar and catches your attention. 

“Save it,” you say, before he’d even opens his mouth. 

“Ooh, snappy little thing today,” he drawls. You roll your eyes at him. 

“What do you want?” you ask, hoping he’ll just order a drink and go. 

“I don’t want a damn thing from you, that ship has obviously sailed,” he says. He jerks his head over at the table. “But he does,” he continues, smirking. 

“He’s interested after all?” you think, and fight to keep your face neutral. “Has he just been nervous?”

“Are you trying to embarrass him?” you ask, your tone flat. 

“What if I am?” he says, watching you. 

“Then you’re an asshole,” you say, exasperated, as you make drinks. “I’ve had a suspicion for a while anyway,” you say. Crosshair raises a silver eyebrow at you. 

“Oh really?” he says, sounding unconvinced. 

“I’m not oblivious to the way you all look at me,” you say, pausing to clean up a spill. “So when I noticed he doesn’t leer, it was a nice change of pace. He doesn’t clam up with any of the others that work here either, so I can put two and two together.” 

Crosshair scoffs dismissively at you, needling you further. 

“So… what are you trying to do here, talk to me for him? He’s a grown-ass man and if he hasn’t said anything to me there’s probably a reason, even if you don’t agree with it,” you say, growing impatient. “Now order something or get the hell out of the way,” you say before waving him off. He scoffs again before skulking away. 

You glance over at Jenko, knowing she’s been watching the entire interaction, and she looks proud of you. You shake your head, exasperated, then she nods her head at something behind you. Confused, you turn back around and see the quiet guy getting up and heading in your direction, looking just as annoyed with Crosshair as you had felt. 

“Take a minute if you want, I’ve got it for now,” she says, obviously trying not to smile, and you nod a quick thanks to her before moving to the very end of the bar, your heart pounding. 

At the round table in the back, everyone watches Crosshair talk to you. You snap at him, hands on your hips, then wave him off, and he returns, grumbling. 

“Ooh, shot down!” Wrecker says, laughing at him as he sits. 

“Again,” Echo says, rolling his eyes. 

Hunter glances at you before he says “I think I like her too,” while looking over at Tech.

“I know what you’re doing,” Tech says to Crosshair, irritated. “And I am perfectly capable of speaking to her myself.”

“Oh? Go on then. Take a shot,” he says, just as annoyed. Tech huffs and stands. 

“Fine, if it will shut you up,” he says, then makes his way over to the bar. His irritation outweighs his nerves, so he doesn’t notice the way his heart rate kicks up when you meet his eyes and smile at him. 

“You need a bacta patch for his wounded pride?” you ask. 

“You shut him down quite effectively,” he says, and he looks impressed. 

“Maybe, but he still got what he wanted,” you say, softly shaking your head. 

“And what’s that?” Tech asks, confused.

“You’re talking to me,” you say. 

“Oh god damn it,” he mutters while briefly hiding his face behind his palm, which pulls a laugh out of you, though it isn’t mocking. 

“Took you long enough,” you say, smiling at him again. 

“You say that like-,” he says, speaking slowly, as if trying to figure you out. 

“Like I’ve wanted you to? Because I have,” you say, being upfront with him. He makes a startled ‘what?’ sound at you in surprise. You nod at him and rest your elbows on the bar, leaning in closer to him. He tries not to look at the way your breasts are straining against the buttons of your shirt as you do this, and his mouth suddenly goes dry. 

“I haven’t had a chance to get to you myself yet,” you say, and you can tell he’s flustered, even if he isn’t saying anything. 

“Although… my shift ends in,” you pause and glance at the chrono on your wrist. “About thirty minutes. Stick around?” you say, and your tone is flirtatious.

“I-if you want me to,” he says. He’s starting to sweat, just enough to be noticeable, and swallows loudly. 

“I do,” you say, smiling again and watching him with your chin resting on your hand. 

“That- that’ll be acceptable,” he says.

“Great!” you say, straightening yourself. He nods at you and turns to walk back to the table, but you stop him. 

“Hey, by the way,” you say, getting his attention. You give him your name, and he does the same. 

“Nice to finally know your name, Tech. Half an hour, okay?” you say. 

“Y-yes, of course,” Tech says, obviously not expecting any of this to have happened. As he returns to the table, he is now vividly aware of the effect you have on him, and a smile cracks his lips before he can stop it. He sits back down and finds that everyone has been watching him. 

“You’re welcome,” Crosshair says with a smirk. 

“That went well,” Echo says. 

“Yeah, I ain’t seen you this happy since we got the ship,” Wrecker says, and Hunter doesn’t say anything, much to Tech's relief. He glances back and finds you watching him. When you see that he’s caught you, you blush and busy yourself elsewhere. 

A half hour hasn’t felt this long since you were back in school. Time seems to crawl past, and you’re getting antsy, restlessly wandering up and down the bar. Every now and then you’ll glance over at Tech, and he’s often doing the same to you. Jenko notices this and calls you over. 

“Go ahead and count out your till, you’ve only got five minutes left anyway,” she says. You’re about to protest, but she chuckles and stops you. “It’s fine. Your mind is clearly elsewhere,” she says. 

You fail to hide the smile on your face as you say thank you, and try not to rush through your task. Once that’s done, you spend a few seconds fretting over yourself in the mirrored back of the bar. 

Jenko nudges your side, getting your attention. “You look fine honey. Besides, the others are leaving. Don’t keep him waiting,” she says, giving you a little push. You take a second to compose yourself and find that, yes, Tech is still in his seat while the other four make their way to the front door. Crosshair shoots you a smug look as they pass.

“You’re still an asshole,” you say, and though he doesn’t respond, the big guy loudly laughs at him. 

You call Tech’s name to get his attention as you approach, though you don’t need to; he’s been watching you since you passed his brothers. You sit and settle in on his right, rather than across from him, but you can see that his body has stiffened, and he’s noticeably uncomfortable. 

“Oh damn, am I too close?” you ask. He doesn’t verbally say anything, but the way his posture relaxes when you move further back from him tells you enough. “Sorry,” you say. 

“You don’t need to be,” Tech says. “You’re the first to ever ask; it’s appreciated,” he says without looking directly at you. 

“You’re not like the other clones I’ve met,” you say casually, turning your body towards him. Tech cocks an eyebrow at you. 

“You’re just now noticing?” he says dryly, and you laugh a little. 

“Oh haha. That’s not what I meant,” you say. 

“What do you mean then?” he asks, his head tilting slightly to one side. 

“Well, the obvious aside, you’re so much more respectful, for one,” you say. “It’s nice to not be stared at or hit on. I’m willing to bet that you’re more intelligent than the other guys too,” you continue, gesturing at the men around you. You notice how his posture subtly shifts as you speak; he’s turned his upper half toward you and moved slightly closer. 

“You would win that bet,” he says, clearly trying not to smirk. 

“There’s no tactful way to ask this,” you say apologetically, “but why are you and your squad so-,” you say, but he interrupts without realizing it. 

“Weird?” he says, sounding exasperated. 

“Different,” you say, gently correcting him. “I don’t think you’re weird.”

Tech meets your eyes and when he sees your sincerity, his breath catches in his throat. He takes a moment to adjust his goggles before launching into how he and his brothers, minus Echo (the one with the cybernetic limbs) were genetically engineered to enhance specific traits and minimize others. You’re paying close attention to his every word, and neither of you notice how you’ve been subtly moving closer to each other. Tech suddenly stops and seems to deflate.

“S-sorry, I’m rambling again,” he says, looking away from you and slouching. You feel a pang in your chest at this; clearly he’s been told to shut up by people he respects multiple times. 

“Oh, no you weren’t! I’ve always wondered about cloning and Kamino, it’s fascinating,” you say. He blinks at you for a few seconds, taken aback by your interest, before continuing to talk as if he hadn’t stopped and gradually sitting up straighter again. 

As he speaks, you occasionally ask him something or make an observation, and he asks if you’re familiar with certain concepts or ideas. He’s consistently impressed when you already know most of them. 

“I have to ask,” he says, adjusting his goggles as he looks at you. “What are you doing working at a bar? You’re clearly smart enough to do something else,” he says. 

“‘Something else’ was too restrictive for my taste,” you say with a shrug. “The drunks aside, I enjoy this a lot more, and I read plenty in my off time. I will admit the conversations aren’t this stimulating though.”

Tech doesn’t comment but you pick up the way he seems to be studying you before getting the conversation back on track. Once he does, you both talk for so long that you only realize how much time has passed when Jenko switches the lights on and starts mopping the floor by your table. 

“Oh damn, have we really been here that long?” you say, surprised, glancing at your chrono. 

“It’s been a few hours, yes,” Tech says.

“Well, it certainly didn’t feel like it. I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed myself with someone like this,” you say, your cheeks getting warm. 

“Agreed. I know I’ve never had the pleasure of such good company before,” Tech says, sheepish. 

The two of you suddenly realize how close you are, and when you meet his eyes, you can see that he’s noticeably relaxed, which is a relief. You then notice how he seems to be glancing from your lips to your eyes. You start to lean in, then remember that you’re technically still at work, so instead back off and clear your throat. You look away for just a second while you recompose yourself, then sigh softly and get to your feet, Tech following you. 

“I guess I should get home,” you say, disappointed. 

“Is it far from here?” he asks. 

“Maybe ten blocks down,” you say. “Walk with me?” you ask, giving him a pointed look. Taken aback, he stumbles over his words. 

“Y-you really, um, want me to?” he asks, flustered. 

“I really do,” you say, surprising him yet again that night. “Just give me a second to grab my bag, okay?” Tech nods and you speed walk behind the bar. 

As you sling your purse onto your shoulder, Jenko stands next to you and nudges your upper arm. You look over at her with a questioning sound. 

“Think you’ll be late tomorrow?” she says with a knowing expression. Your face flushes, and you glance over at Tech, who is now waiting for you by the door. 

“To be blunt, I want to be,” you say, making her laugh. “But that’s not entirely my decision,” you continue. 

“Well, when he’s here and you’re not, he always looks disappointed,” Jenko says. You don’t verbally answer but she can hear the small ‘aw’ sound you make. 

“Regardless, if you won’t be on time then I need you here at least two hours after we open and no later,” she says, using her ‘boss voice’ even though her face is relaxed. 

“Yes ma’am,” you say, followed by a soft but nervous laugh. You take a deep, steadying breath, then move back around the bar and meet Tech at the door. 

The two of you step outside and Tech watches you take a deep breath of the ‘fresh’ air. There’s a small satisfied smile on your lips. They look soft, and he can’t help but wonder what they would feel like on his own. 

“Tech? You coming?” you ask. You had moved a few steps ahead of him and he didn’t notice. He shakes himself and quickly catches up with you. 

Neither of you say much, having already talked for so long in the bar, but the quiet is comfortable. As you walk, Tech keeps getting distracted by the way the multicolored lights of the city reflect in your eyes. He already finds you attractive, but something about you tonight is just-

“Beautiful.” 

“What’s that?” you suddenly say, confused. 

“What’s what?” Tech says, also confused. 

“You just said-? You think I’m beautiful?” you say, your voice soft and disbelieving, and Tech realizes what happened. 

“No, I d-,” he says, but you cut him off.

“You don’t?” you say, more confused. 

“No! Wait, I mean, I-I do, I just didn’t-,” he says, stumbling over his words and getting flustered again. You come to a stop before a small door, watching him. He shuts his eyes and takes a moment to compose himself. 

“Tech? Are you alright?” you ask, your voice still soft. Maker, he loves the sound of his name on your lips. He thinks about how close the two of you had unconsciously gotten to each other back in the bar, and before he can stop himself, he takes a step closer to you, cups your cheek, and softly kisses you. 

You’re startled by this, and reflexively pull away, an unreadable expression on your face; Tech immediately regrets it. 

“I am so sorry, I-,” Tech says, starting to apologize, but you cut him off by moving forward and kissing him back, decidedly less softly. 

It takes a moment for him to process what’s happening, but he quickly relaxes and pulls you closer, resting his hands on your hips. You link your hands behind his neck and press your body against his, humming softly. He shyly swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, and when you open for him, his heart threatens to burst out of his chest. You taste each other and he wraps his arms around your waist, holding you tightly. 

A passing speeder blares its horn and the two of you are rudely reminded of where you are. You break apart and both take a step back, breathing heavily and staring at each other for a tense moment. 

“Well… um, this is my place,” you say, gesturing to the door. Neither of you say anything else as you unlock your it, and Tech clears his throat. 

“I should be going,” he says. He’s about to walk away when you suddenly grab his hand. He looks back at you and says your name, confused. You pull your hand back and fidget with the topmost button of your shirt. 

“I…” you say, then pause, swallowing loudly. 

Although he doesn’t have heightened senses like his brother, Tech can tell by your breathing and wide eyes that your heart rate is going up. “Are you okay?” he asks. 

“I’ve never done this,” you say, unfastening the button without noticing. 

“But?” he says, taking a step closer. 

“But, I-,” you repeat, undoing the second button, this time fully aware of your actions. “I want you, Tech,” you say, undoing the third button, then the fourth. The swell of your breasts, slightly exaggerated by your heavy breathing, is uncovered the further down your shirt your fingers move. You step closer to him, and he can see the red and black lace of your bra in the dim light. 

“You want me? For what?” he asks, his own breathing becoming heavy as he also moves closer, waiting to see if you’ll say what he’s hoping to hear. 

“I want you to stay with me tonight,” you say, your face now only inches away from his. 

“A-are you sure?” he asks, in complete disbelief for the second time tonight. In response, you suddenly kiss him deeply while taking him by the shoulders and moving him with you as you step through the door. Once you’re both past the threshold, you break apart. 

“I’m sure,” you pant, your voice high and breathy. “But only if you want to,” you say, taking a step back and leaving it up to him.

“Oh god, yes,” Tech says, with no hesitation. He shuts the door behind him, sweeps you into his arms, and kisses you feverishly. 

His hands return to your hips and he pushes you against the door which has barely shut, his lips never leaving yours. His gloved fingers fumble with the remaining buttons of your shirt, and you take the lead by grasping either side of the garment and yanking it apart, popping the remaining buttons off before freeing yourself from the sleeves and dropping it to the floor. Tech uses his teeth to pull his gloves off, and when you feel his hands travel upwards, you arch your back and press your chest against his. 

Your hands also roam his body, but you struggle with the straps and snaps of his armor as he has an equally difficult time with the hooks of your bra. The two of you break apart after a few seconds and huff in unison as Tech shakes his head. 

“Apologies, it’s been a long time-,” he says, unable to look at you. You cup his cheek and turn him to face you before softly kissing him. 

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’ve never had to deal with all this before,” you say, gesturing at his armor as he takes a step back. 

“Really?” Tech says, methodically shucking off his kit. 

“You sound surprised,” you say, laughing a little. 

“I suppose I am; with the attention you get at the bar I assumed you could have whoever you want,” he says, being blunt. 

“Well, you aren’t wrong,” you say as you reach behind yourself and quickly undo the hooks of your bra with a single hand. 

“Then you have before?” he asks, freezing midway through lifting off his chest plate, and you can hear a trace of insecurity in his voice. 

“I think you misunderstand,” you say, taking the large piece from him and respectfully setting it down on a nearby dresser. “I can have whoever I want, yes, but I haven’t wanted anyone else,” you say. As you speak, you slip your arms out of your bra straps and let the thing fall to the floor with your discarded shirt. You step forward and hold either side of his head as you pull his mouth towards yours, crushing your lips together. 

Your tongues meet again, and when you finally break apart for air Tech is panting for breath. You can see the ‘are you serious’ in his eyes before he even says it and simply nod at him with a wide smile. He shakes his head, in disbelief once again. 

You slip your hands underneath his compression shirt and feel your way up to his chest, making him groan when you experimentally drag the pad of your thumb around one of his nipples. He whips the shirt off, and you touch him the same way with your other hand. His hips jerk forward and he curses under his breath when you grind against him. His hands grab your ass and pull your body even closer to his. 

You move a hand from his chest to the back of his head and pull his face down enough for you to kiss him again. Tech closes his eyes and moans into your mouth, and you take this opportunity to slide your other hand downwards, gripping his belt and pulling him behind it as you take a few steps back towards your bed, stopping when the backs of your knees bump into the mattress. 

Tech unhands you long enough to drop his belt and codpiece to the floor, but before he strips any further, you’re already palming his cock through his blacks. He groans, then reaches up to rub his hand against the very wet crotch of your panties, thankful that you wore a skirt. 

With a gasp and a quick movement, you’ve managed to free his cock from its confines, then spit in your hand and steadily jerk him off, relishing in the sensation of his heated breath in your ear as he moans your name. You kiss him again and your tongues dance as Tech steers you downward onto your bed. You flop onto your back and hike your skirt up over your hips. You’re about to slide your panties down when his hands stop yours from moving. 

He takes you by the wrists and pins them above your head into the mattress singlehanded, then uses his free hand to pull your soaked panties to the side before slipping his digits into you. His long fingers quickly find a spot deep inside that makes you whine and arch your back as he rubs tight circles into it. After a few seconds of this, he changes tactics, suddenly pulling his fingers back out and freeing your wrists as he moves downwards past your waist.

He holds your legs open and dives face first into your dripping cunt. Your hands grab the sides of his head as he lavishes your clit with his strong tongue, his movements making you shiver and gasp. Your fingers tangle into his short brown curls and you don’t miss the way he whines when you tug at them. He slips two fingers back into your wet cunt while continuing to work your clit with his tongue. 

“Oh fuck, Tech, just like that, so fucking good,” you pant, your words a gasping jumble of praise and curses. You pull at his hair again and he whines against your pussy; the vibration of his lips around your clit finally pushing you into your first orgasm. All the while, he never slows down, continuing to finger you through it until he overstimulates you into coming a second time with a loud cry of his name as your body spasms and you soak his face. 

You don’t even have time to catch your breath before he’s suddenly sliding the head of his cock between your folds. He’s teasing you, but you can tell he’s barely holding himself back. You grab at the sides of his head again and yank him into a deep kiss, tasting yourself on him as you shift your hips around in an attempt to get him inside you. Catching on, Tech pauses long enough to yank your soaked panties off and position himself against you. 

“I’ve wanted this, wanted you, ever since we met. Please let me have you,” he says, refusing to move any further. 

“Take me, Tech, I’m all yours,” you purr, and he pushes himself into you as soon as the last word has left your lips. You gasp as you stretch around him and hook your hands around his shoulders to keep yourself grounded. He waits just long enough for you to adjust to his size, and once you nod at him, he drags his hips backwards before snapping them forward into you with enough force to rock the entire bed. 

The furniture thumps against the wall in time with Tech’s movements, and the noise seems to spur him into fucking you even deeper. With a particularly strong thrust, you see stars and barely contain a shout. 

“I’ve waited too long for you to hold back on me,” Tech says, then grips your jaw and holds your mouth open as he repeats the motion, all but forcing the sounds out of you this time, loud enough to make your ears ring. 

You wrench yourself free of his grip and clash your mouth against his. You greedily swallow up each other's moans and cries of deepest pleasure, your lips never separating for more than a second at a time as his hips stutter and you feel him fill you. His muscles lock and you hold tightly onto him, wrapping your legs around his hips as you both come at the same time.

After about a minute, Tech’s body relaxes again and he shakily sits back, his softened cock slipping out of you as he moves. You sit up and feel his load leaking from you, and you maintain eye contact with him as you flex and push a little more out. He makes a kind of strangled sound at the display before suddenly diving face first back into your hot cunt, taking care to clean you up as much as possible while eating you out. You shiver, then push him off of you and onto his back, and he seems to snap back to his senses. 

“Oh fuck, did I-?” he starts, but you shut him up by crashing your lips against his again. You break apart to strip yourself completely, and he follows suit, leaving his armor in a pile at the foot of your bed next to your own clothes. 

“If you’re going to make me come a fourth time, it’ll be around your cock, got it?” you say, smirking at him. 

“Y-yes, whatever you want,” Tech says, eyes wide. You pull him into a sitting position and meet his eyes. 

“No, it’s whatever you want. Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop,” you say, speaking firmly. Tech says he understands, then returns to where he was, laying on his back. 

“So you’re still okay with this?” you say, watching him carefully. 

“Yes. Yes, please,” he says, his voice steady but needy, his cock hardening again. Your eyes gleam. 

“Good,” you say, moving to straddle him. “I’m not done with you just yet.”

Taglist: @madameminor @kaminocasey @jennamelinda12 @arctrooper69 @the-cantina @jedi-hawkins @bitchyglitterfox

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[ruelpsen]

Feedist Kinktober 2024: Part II (October 8-14)

Here's the second batch of 100-200 word drabbles! This set continues the theme of involving my favorite fictional alien, the six-tentadicked L/ondo M/ollari from B/abylon 5. On top of the prompts used themselves, below you'll find stuffing, weight gain, burping, dom/sub dynamics, alcohol intox, public play, tentacles, alienfucking, weight-related teasing, magic/rapid weight gain, clothing malfunction, exhibitionism, and cnc abduction play with an actual alien...

If you enjoy these, stay tuned for future batches, to be released on or shortly after October 21st, 28th, and 31st!

Part I (October 1-7) here

(8) Ren Faire 👑 / Plugged In 🔌 “Another drink for you, my dear,” he said, his body then jolting with a hiccup subsequently working up a belch. He took another swig from his big tankard of beer as we walked from the drink stand. “You sure you don’t urrrrrp- want any?” “I’m fine with just the soda, thanks,” I replied. “More for me, then!” he giggled, more than a bit tipsy by this point. He’d had a lot to drink, but still, he’s no lightweight. I glanced around again, hoping nobody might see what we were up to in this quiet corner of the fairgrounds. We found a tree and sat down in its shade, my love leaning back against its trunk to support his increasingly swollen, boozy belly. “Ah, where is it…” he mumbled, setting his tankard down and fumbling around in his pocket for something. “Here it is… you enjoy seeing me be a belchy mess for you, yes?” I nodded. He beamed mischievously, and with that, the plug in my ass started to rumble. “Get through the rest of the afternoon without cumming in your pants and I’ll let you fuck me later, understood?”

(9) Massively Milky 🥛 / Euphoria 💖 “Great Maker, you’re so sexy.” He leaned forward and kissed my neck, pressing his fangs against my skin. I dug my nails into his back as he worked his way up with his lips to my mouth, continuing to grind his ass against my hips as I thrust up into him. The two tentacles in my own ass filled me with pleasure, the other four enveloping me in L/ondo’s lust as they explored my body. Their heads worked their way over flesh, into folds, against the sensitive canvas that is my growing body. He did this to me. He did this to me because he knew how badly I wanted to be his fattened plaything. “You’ve wanted this for so long, haven’t you?” he moaned against me between kisses. “You’ve always been beautiful, darling. But my, how you’ve grown, how much more alluring you’ve become… my fat fucking slut.” Oh fuck. That’s all I could think as I came, as I felt him tense up in me as he kissed me again. Somewhere beyond the heaven of my senses he whispered sweet words that echoed in my mind: you’re perfect. I love you.

(10) Full Moon 🌕 / Containment Breach ☢️ I could tell from the look on his face that I was not supposed to have eaten those… whatever they were in his fridge. “And you ate all of them? The whole package?” he asked. “Yeah? Like I said, they looked good, they tasted good, and I was hungry. I didn’t think they’d leave me feeling so full, though…” He looked at me with a strange expression, one of dismay tinged with arousal. “How many times must I remind you to not eat random things from my refrigerator?” he scolded. “Those are-” My eyes widened as I felt my body surge outwards. The clothes that fit comfortably mere seconds before were now tight as could be, struggling to stay on my expanding figure. I looked up at him helplessly, only to find him staring at me with eyes just as wide. His cocks were beginning to stir under his waistcoat, try as he might to hide it. “What’s happening to me?!” I gasped. But before I could say anything more, my body surged outwards again, leaving me fattened and naked as my clothes practically exploded off me. “You’ll be fine… are you free tonight?”

(11) Theatrical 🎭 / Power Play 🔃 I’m still not totally sure where he got the idea for it, but Maker must I thank him for it. I must thank him again for pulling all the strings to make this work, for finding an excuse to leave for his homeworld with me in tow, for arranging a time and place for us to play, for finding an audience in which no one knew me… Somehow, that’s how I ended up onstage in a sex club, engaging in an explicit display of hedonism and human submission. The show started as a normal dinner, then devolved into a argument over which of our species had a superior capacity for the fine foods of his world. That’s when he would seize me and feed me into submission, undressing me and stroking me before hundreds of watchful eyes as he showed them what a fat, submissive slut I am, letting our viewers use me as some sexy eye candy to get off to. Only when moans began to erupt from the audience did he even consider that I was full enough to be allowed to cum…

(12) Candy Crush 🍬 / Eldritch Nightmares 👁️ “And that’s the… twenty-first type of candy you’ve tried tonight. We’ve still got many more to go. Think you can handle it?” I looked up from my notebook at my crush sitting at the other end of the couch. Empty candy wrappers littered his lap and the seat around him, each one signifying his first taste of the new-to-him treats I’d brought back for him from Earth. “I’ve got plenty of room still, of course,” he said, reaching out a hand. “What do you have to offer next?” I reached into the bag next to me and pulled out a Milky Way bar, passing it to him. He tore into it excitedly, polishing it off in just a couple big bites. I tried hard to not squirm in my seat, hoping he wouldn’t notice how much I was blushing. He’d already eaten a lot, and it showed… “Delightful!” he exclaimed, before tipping his face down slightly and belching into his fist. “I do have to wonder though- is there any particular reason you wanted to share your culture with me in this way?” “Oh, perhaps,” I blushed, quickly glancing away from his increasingly full stomach.

(13) GoTHICC 🥀 / Stitched Together 🪡 “I’m still not fully sure what to think of it, you know. Are you really sure I’m not underdressed? You told me this, what did you call it, Halloween party is essentially a fun costume party- but this is so very close to what I normally wear. What else do I need to do?” I watched him as he dressed before the mirror, buttoning a black waistcoat over a red shirt. The waistcoat hugged his gut slightly more than the ones he normally wears, and the black pants he had on served well to highlight his wonderfully thick thighs. He looked so sexy like this, and the colors he wore only helped to serve his naturally vampiric nature. “The only other thing I recommend,” I said, my voice sultry, as I rose and moved to stand behind him, glancing over his shoulder and wrapping my arms around him midsection, “is to act literally bloodthirsty. That’s important if you’re going as a vampire, my creature of the night. Put those fangs to good use.” “Oh, I will put them to good use…” He kissed the base of my neck, fangs pressing into me.

(14) Pumpkin Spice 🎃 / Alien Abduction 🛸 “My, my, what have we here? Biped, much like myself… at least when clothed. Squirms when touched. Sentient, given that he yelled and fought back when I caught him…” He pulled my shirt up and pants down, exposing me. I wanted him to fuck me then and there, but being as bound as I was, I could only whimper through the gag to express my arousal. “Subject is too skinny, has only one attribute, far smaller than my six in size but increasingly turgid. This would suggest he is aroused by this examination. Hmm, it would only be fair to begin some internal probing, then…” He took off his shirt, revealing the six attributes that already writhed with excitement. One pulled away the gag and snaked its way into my mouth, another wrapping around my dick. The other four caressed and explored my body. And goodness, was he already quite excited himself- within moments, he released a large load of his sweet, thick cum into my mouth. I swallowed heartily, then belched around his cock. “My, a vibrating orifice- I think this hole was meant to be fucked! As for the attribute, time to test how sensitive it truly is…”

[norcalbruja]

Updates with Loki, because of COURSE it's Loki.

What's up folks, I went to a witch festival yesterday and bought way too many candles, lmao.

Copied and pasted from Instagram/Facebook:

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October 5: In the hot-as-hell weather, I unwisely bought wax candles and metal or stone jewelry. I promised myself I would only buy what could fit in my bag or what wouldn’t get wrecked from the heat, so I just tried to jam the heat-sensitive items in my bag, away from the sun.

Most of it fit! I got a shop bag for the candle care kit, but then the jar candle started sweating inside my regular bag. Eek. I was damn lucky that it was on top of the candle dish, which was also wrapped in paper. Maybe I have an excuse to get belt pouches now, lol.

I probably made another unwise decision by buying a statue of NORSE MYTHOLOGY LOKI and not Marvel Loki, but there were these two adorable girls who spotted him and went “It’s Loki, my boy! …Asterisk!” Which clearly referred to Marvel-Loki being genderfluid, and it tickled me.

If you don’t hear from me next week, or if you hear TOO much from me, you know a statue of Loki is crashing at my place. Send help and/or a statue of Thor, so he can reenact the Lokasenna.

My smartest decision today was NOT buying a Norse drinking horn, even though they were super nice. I can barely afford normal amounts of alcohol—I will have no opportunities to use a Viking horn, that you traditionally had to pass around for everyone to get a drink. In Covid times, I don’t think anyone should share drinks from the actual horn, but I’d definitely pour out drinks. If I’m ever rich enough to buy any kind of keg or pay for a bar crawl, I’m getting a drinking horn to celebrate SOMEONE’S birthday. 😆

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And copy-pasted from early noon, when Things Started Happening:

So I’m eating spaghetti now and not hangry anymore. Here is why getting a pound of ground beef was way too exciting for me.

Last night: Came home from the Witchfest and started cooking spaghetti, only to find that the now-thawed ground beef was too old and gray for me to risk using it for the sauce.

Sighed, ate something else, tossed the meat in the trash, and put everything in the fridge. Made a note to get more ground beef before lunch.

This morning: Took the trash out and the bag leaked meat juice on the floor!!! Wiped it up fine and double bagged the trash, but I did not need that smell. 🤮

Went to the nearest store: Someone was warning customers that the credit card systems were down and it’s cash only for now. Checked my wallet and bag, no cash. Said bye to the employee, headed out. Ugh.

On the way to the next store: A fire truck starts blasting their alarm and no less than two Volkswagen Beetles look genuinely TRASHED, like they were used for Mad Max. One was beat up and covered in dust, and the other had no trunk door.

Next store: Parked asap, headed for the meat section, stashed my keys in a back pocket, and THEN found five dollars hiding out. With meat prices right now, I wouldn’t have been able to buy anything with it, but I feel like SOMEONE up there was laughing at me, hint-hint.

While I’m waiting in line to buy this damn beef, the shoplifting alarm goes off twice. It’s sorted out quickly, but at this point I am getting wigged out, and I just wanted the damn spaghetti sauce to get finished.

THANKS FOR THE UNWANTED ADVENTURE, LOKI LAUFEYJARSON.

I should have bought the Thor statue to keep this dude in line. 😩

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At 5:30pm: Me and my sister were headed to the hardware store and there was a DAMN FALLEN BRANCH lying in the road a block away. It was a huge widowmaker across the whole lane, and everyone had to drive around it. Loki is now on probation while I make a proper containment bag.

I’m not returning the statue or anything, but we clearly need some house rules before I unroll him from the Mjollnir joint. 😩

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Spirit-world/headspace wise, Loki was just cackling nonstop until I actually got fed up and rolled his statue up. He is confused that I was serious about Mjollnir and went, "Hey! Heyheyheyhey! Bro, I'm not trying to hurt YOU!" and the other spirits are like "Loki, that is not how things work. 😔 "

This seems to have literally "contained" the part of him responsible for "Things Happening WAY too close to me," because now he's just asking me to pleassssssssse let him outttttt.

I told him I'd let him out next Monday at the latest, and I might let him out earlier if he stays... NEUTRAL??? Like, I know he won't necessarily "behave" because he's a damn trickster, but he has to 1) avoid serious physical danger, and 2) try not to affect my family's finances.

And like, I assured him that I'd still FEED HIM until he was out. Because, you know... he seems genuinely distressed that I'm "locking him up," and he is specifically saying "Come onnnnnnn, Cyborg, let me out! I can't get you the good Marvel deals if I'm stuck in this dumbass shit!"

The other spirits are just constantly repeating to him about WHY he's rolled up in a Mjollnir joint. Even Sigyn came up while he was yelling, and she just sighed and went "Loki, what did you do now?"

Brighid is upset that I'm feeding him since 1) he's a god and (mostly) immortal, and 2) even if he needed food, it's not like he'd go hungry from LACK of followers like the Filipino spirits.

And I went, "Brighid, it's the PRINCIPLE of giving him basic necessities. I don't want to imprison him completely or banish him--I'd just prefer at least my BASELINE bad luck for when my mom gets home, and after I've had a couple of decent work-days."