#if you're a grown up and would like something... A bit more your age: Ask me about hotdog water-

[pain-del-doge]

Remade my commission sheet, and with this-- Reopened my comms in full ;w; 💖

I want to help my family stay afloat in these troubling times and my emergency funds are running a bir low, so please share around! And if you're interested, feel free to contact me! Thank you so much 💖💖

[angelic--kitty]

dilf arlecchino stretching out a virgin reader on her fat cock

dom!dilf arlecchino x sub!fem reader

warnings: smut (minors/ageless blogs dni), wlw content, transfem!arlecchino, virgin!reader, age-gap (arle is in her late 30s, reader is in her early 20s), size kink, fingering, penetration, handjob

a/n: tagging my favorite silly @myfriendscallmebun who i hope enjoys this ♡ this is so long

she first hired you merely as a form of entertainment for her children. someone eager to please who wouldn't require such a large salary. someone who, at least, would never ask someone like her for more than she offered.

it's a surprising decision, on her end, to select a college girl to watch over her precious children. though, you presented yourself so nicely at the interview, and your references and resume did you well.

besides, it might be nice for the children to be around someone closer to their age for a change. they often spent time with arlecchino herself and occasionally her coworkers.

and, you had grown on her.

it's been nearly two months since you started working for her, and a few weeks since you began passing flirtatious remarks to one another.

the thing that finally melted her heart was an evening she worked late. she was already irritated her children would be asleep when she got home, but she felt guilty making you stay hours late at her home.

much to her surprise (and inner delight), when she came home, she found the children tucked into their beds, and you standing so sweetly at the door.

you had slipped her jacket off, hanging it up and tugging her into the kitchen. sure enough, you had saved her a plate of the spaghetti you made, along with a glass of her favorite red wine.

that was the day when she finally asked you to accompany her on a proper date.

and, now, here you are, standing in front of your mirror, fussing with your dress and jewelry. the dress she had bought for you special for tonight. it was black, falling just below your knees- rather classy for someone so young.

20 minutes. in 20 minutes she was picking you up.

nervous as you were, you couldn't believe you were going on a date with her. especially to somewhere so expensive and exclusive.

it was some sort of upscale bar with expensive alcohol and food. somewhere arlecchino claimed to frequent often when she needed alone time.

you almost broke out into laughter when she admitted she hired childe, her younger coworker, for the evening to watch her children.

"oh, i'm not concerned for my childrens' safety. if anything, he should be afraid for his own." was her reply, a small smirk on her lips that you nearly missed.

she lead you into the restaurant with confidence, turning heads, eliciting whispers as she kept her hand on the small of your back while the waiter brought you to your table.

"what do you think so far?" she asked, her wine glass already being filled, no need to speak her order.

"it's...definitely different than what i'm used to. but it's really nice. i like having an excuse to dress up a little." you smile at her and she raises her glass to her lips.

"i want to spoil you for the evening. for not only treating my children so well, but because you are an exceptional woman. i only hope my gestures come off as genuine as i intend." she sips her wine, setting it down to begin rambling to you about the menu.

but you're not quite listening, distracted by her hands, her lips, her eyes. how could someone be so perfect?

she's quite a bit older than you, probably much more experienced. does she truly feel the same way you do? and-

"sweetheart?" she breaks you from your thoughts and you stiffen up.

"i'm sorry- i'm listening!" you squeak, but she sees right through you.

although, she finds it rather cute. she's noticed before, obviously. your wandering eyes, the way you bite your lip when she picks up something heavy like it's nothing, or how your thighs press together when she takes a stern tone.

she simply wants to know the depths of your affection for her. after all, she has similar thoughts of you.

"which dish would you like then?" she asks pointedly, allowing you to hold the menu with shaky hands.

"ah...um..." the words blur together, not registering. "what do you recommend?"

she tilts her head, taking the menu back. "allow me to order for you then."

you like when she takes control. she knows what she wants, and she will have it. you wish it a quality you embodied more, though she fascinates you. it is almost natural to her.

dinner goes rather smoothly, and you get to taste test a few different wines, but not nearly enough to get you even remotely tipsy.

"i much prefer coherent company." her lips quirk up as she says this, and you laugh behind your hand.

she's funny, you admit. her dry humor is one of your favorite things about her.

it's a shame when dinner comes to an end, but you two mutually draw it out as long as you can. you share a dessert, and plenty of good conversation about yourselves. you learn things about her you never would've thought, and likewise for her.

the ride back to your place is just as pleasant, though you feel nervous inside. you want to make a move. you want to ask her to come inside. to stay...

but you couldn't possibly. that would be absurd... right?

regardless, she walks you in, ensuring you get into your place safely. she's a gentleman in how she holds your bags and all the doors at every stop.

the little bit of wine in your system has you feeling bold, stopping her in her tracks before she could put her shoes back on. "wait! why... don't you stay for a little? i could make us some tea. herbal! so you won't...uh... be awake all night."

she merely tilts her head, nodding either way. she listens to your rambling about the tea and the coffee mugs you have, her eyes wandering your walls when she sees familiar art.

"did the children draw these?" she interrupts, taking one off the wall.

it's a rather rudimentary stick-figure drawing, but she can tell who each one represents. this is one of lynette's drawings. she's drawn herself with pretty blue bows, along with her brothers, and, of course, their father.

and you.

there you are, standing on the other side as if you were the mother to complete their family portrait.

"oh- those? yeah, the kids drew them for me... i thought they were really cute, so i kept them." you smile and her heart flutters.

she skims her fingers over the papers, pausing when she sees one from freminet. he's drawn a flower field of green scribbles and rainbow dots, the children playing on a swingset while you and arlecchino watch.

with the words 'mom' and 'dad' written above your heads.

she can hear you nervously talking to fill the silence, and she turns to you. "they really do seem to enjoy having you around." she murmurs. "as do i."

you look up at her, feeling her lean in, gently holding your waist. "am i being too forward?" she asks, breath fanning over the side of your face as you shiver.

"not at all-" you breathe out, trembling as she lifts your chin gently. she can see your anticipation.

"you're not phased by our gap in experience?" she asks. "it's inevitable. i cannot change it, but i do not want you to feel forced."

"i actually like it. i really like it." you blurt, catching her off guard.

"oh?" her voice is low, sultry as she cups your jaw. "is this alright with you, then?"

"please-" and that's all she needs to connect your lips, kissing you so softly at first. her tongue gently prods for entrance, and she can instantly tell you truly are inexperienced.

she pulls away, gently swiping a thumb over your cheek. "is this your first time?"

"you could tell?" you groan, and she nearly melts.

"it is not shameful to wait. i only want you to be sure this is what you want." she explains, stroking your cheek as your eyes flutter shut.

"i want you. please? i want you to take it." you leave it open for interpretation, but she knows exactly what you're referring to.

"if you're certain, then i'd be honored, sweetheart." she says so gently you'd think she was someone else.

you bring her to your room, cringing at the mess. "i know it isn't what you're used to but mmph-!" you whimper when she kisses you, pulling you onto her lap on the bed.

she trails kisses down your neck, watching you tilt your head back instinctively. you pant, overwhelmed so quickly she almost feels guilty.

keyword: almost.

instead, it makes her twitch within the confines of her expensive suit slacks.

her hand tangles into the back of your hair, tugging you firmly so she can nip at your jaw. she takes it slow, easing you into things until you're practically begging her to go further.

your dress slides off slowly, a treat waiting when she sees the pretty matching lingerie set beneath. it's white and lacy, delicate, something she could easily tear right off, and it drives her mad.

"aren't you full of surprises? naughty ones at that." she tuts, squeezing your jaw as you gasp.

she unclips the bra, her gently squeezing your breasts as you moan for her.

she teases your nipples until they go pert, wrapping her tongue around them as you arch up into her.

you're being vulnerable with her; she knows this much. she holds you steady, ensuring you feel safe on her lap before pulling away with a soft 'pop.'

she unbuttons her shirt, tugging it off to match you. she watches your eyes go wide, eager yet embarrassed as she tosses her bra aside with the shirt.

"you're so...pretty." you gasp quietly, eyes wide.

"you can touch me, sweetheart." she pulls your hand to her chest, allowing you to explore. your fingers clumsily rub her nipples and she grunts, guiding them into place.

"does it feel good?" you ask her so hesitantly, and she kisses the top of your head.

"you're doing well." she watches your gaze slide down, eyeing the growing bulge in her pants. she dryly grunts, lifting your chin up. "something catch your eye?"

"i... i'm sorry- i didn't mean to stare-" your words are mumbled, your face hot as your mouth goes dry.

"you're curious. that's alright." she brushes a thumb over your lips, coaxing you to open up.

she slides her thumb over your tongue, gently easing it a little further until you gag, keeping you just like that. your eyes are so wide and pretty, glazed over with untapped lust.

she hums thoughtfully before withdrawing, using the thumb to brush over the front of your panties. you gasp, thighs snapping shut as she pushes them back apart.

she lightly smacks your thigh. "keep them open." she rubs gentle circles on your clothed clit, your body clearly unsure how to react. she can see it doesn't take much to bring you to the edge, and she lightens her touch, able to control her own desires with ease.

her hand comes back to your lips, sliding your wetness over your tongue while her free hand slides your panties to the side.

something you've missed before, but she's filed her nails down on this hand. just for you, though only she knew that.

she gently slides her fingers through your folds, hearing you whimper and squirm on her lap. she tucks your head under her chin while she eases a finger into you, feeling you squeeze so tight around just one digit.

she gives you time to adjust, feeling you clutch her wrist. you're such an angel, aren't you? holding so tightly to her, so cute, all while you fidget right above her confined cock, inevitably making her grow harder.

her second finger slides in slowly, with an intent to stretch you out enough to take her cock more comfortably. she curls them inside of you, hearing you whine loudly into her neck.

"ah- that feels-!" you squeal when she brushes against your g-spot. her finger pads rub into it, and you tremble, thighs clamping down on her hand.

"relax." she reminds you, pumping her fingers in and out, slick sounds filling the air. she stretches you out every so often, spreading her fingers slightly and hearing you whimper so sweetly.

your hand clumsily rests on her bulge and her fingers still as she inhales sharply.

"i... want to- try and make you feel good too..." you whisper, looking up at her.

and who is she to deny such a sweet girl?

she pops open the button, unzipping her pants and freeing her cock, allowing you to see her.

your eyes go comically wide, shocked by the size. "that's... i-"

she can feel your walls fluttering around her fingers and she nearly moans. "it's alright. don't be nervous." she practically reads your mind, soothing your concerns as her free hand unwraps itself from your body, collecting some of the messy slick from your thighs, sliding it over herself.

"you haven't done this before, i presume?" she's met with a shake of your head. she proceeds to guide your hand in wrapping around her cock. she hisses through her teeth. "archons-" she groans lowly, her fingers resuming their gentle in and out motions while she guides you to stroke her cock.

"tighter." she tells you, feeling your hand grip more firmly, her pre-cum oozing over your hand, spreading across her cock. "good girl-" she praises and you clench around her fingers once more.

she says nothing, but she knows exactly how her words affect you. such a sweet little thing you are, curled up on her lap, fingers stuffed inside of you while your hand wraps around her cock.

her hand covers yours still, dwarfing your hand and guiding you into her preferred rhythm. "that's it. you're doing well-" she tips her head back, hips grinding into your hand as she lets go.

she allows you to move your hand on your own, finger-fucking you faster. she knows you're losing focus, too overwhelmed by your own need to cum, though she doesn't mind too much. you're just so sweet with how your moans pick up in volume, your eyes closing as your hips chase her hand.

"go on." she tells you, her voice stern as you release around her digits like such a good girl for her.

she slides her fingers out, admiring the webbed slick coating them, cleaning them in her own mouth as you shyly hide in her chest.

she pulls you away, laying you on the bed. "wait! you didn't get to..."

she shakes her head, pushing her hair back. "hush." she simply says, spreading your thighs, pushing them up to your chest. it exposes you perfectly, allowing you to feel shy, yet unable to cover yourself as she studies your twitchy cunt.

arlecchino uses one hand to guide herself through your slick, sensitive folds, gathering the remnants of your orgasm. she is gentle when she slides into you for the first time, a thumb on your stiff, swollen clit to ease the stretch.

she watches your eyebrows furrow, nose crinkling as she stretches you out. "so big-" you whine, chest arching up against her own.

your moans are melodies to her, feeling you flutter around her was like heaven. she lifts you up to sit on her lap while she leans back, guiding you to slowly take more of her in.

"too much!" you whine, looking down.

"you haven't taken all of me yet." she hushes you, easing you down to swallow her all in your pussy until you're mewling incoherently.

"full-" your head falls back and she grabs your hips, her nails leaving sharp little indents as she guides you to shallowly fuck yourself on her cock.

"such a pretty little thing." she coos, slowly growing more harsh, grinding up into you.

and, oh, you sing for her the rougher she gets. you urge her to grow bolder, now using your body as a toy while you desperately try to match her tempo.

you're inexperienced, but oh, so eager to please, aren't you? what a good girl.

she grabs your ass, fucking you on her cock while you keep a vice grip, your tits bouncing with each thrust. "oh- archons!" you squeal.

arlecchino picks you up like you weigh nothing at all, settling you beneath her instead, fucking into you with boundless energy.

she knows the right spots to fuck, where and how to grind herself into a woman, she knows exactly when to speed up and slow down. yet it seems you don't even know your own body fully.

and the thought of helping you explore with her is enough to have her twitching inside of you.

your incessant mewling and moaning of her name is driving her mad for you. her hand wraps around your throat, earning her breathless gasps as she urges you to cum for her.

"be a good little pet and cum." she orders, slick sounds penetrating the air, the smell of sex coating you both. "cum for me."

she rubs your clit harshly, watching you shake as you do cum, tightening up around her cock, sending her eyes rolling back into her head.

the moment you loosen up, she pulls out, cumming onto your tummy, creating a filthy mess as she moans deeply for you.

"fuck..." she sighs, squeezing her cock to ease the rest of her cum onto your skin.

you pant, looking up at her. your eyes are blown wide, but you look exhausted as you lay limply beneath her.

and, well, you'll soon learn her cock may need time to recover, but her mouth and fingers certainly don't...

[bunny-jpeg]

Hi 👋 could I please order a

Maple Cream Pie with a Tonic Water, a Naked & Famous and a Hard Lemonade.

Please, for Lando Norris.

bakery menu!

thank you for submitting an order! i love getting them and have been trying my best to get through all of them! as for this one, thank you for the submission. i love what you ordered and i hope that you enjoy the fic! i messed around with the ages a bit since lando is only 24 (fuckin' baby), so i slowly inserted it into the team principal au where it does made the age gap a lil bigger! (i hope you dont mind)

maple cream pie ("either you wear the necklace with my name on it, or wear my bruises around your neck.") + tonic water (age gap) + naked & famous (bimbo/ditzy!reader) + hard lemonade (possessive behaviour)

cw: smut/pwp, team principal au, age gap (20s/40s), possessive behavior, reference to sugar daddy, bimbo!reader, mean!lando, innocent!reader, missionary position, dirty talk

lando didn't like sharing his toys. and now at almost forty he didn't like sharing the little thing he called his girlfriend. at his age, he shouldn't be chasing after women who barely held down a full-time job in their whole life. he should be settled down with a wife and some kids, at least that was what oscar told him. (damn bastard had been married for ten years with three kids now), instead lando chased young tail like he chased trophies.

except instead of a racer he was the team principal of mclaren. maybe it was the chip on his shoulder that year after year throughout his racing career, he barely missed the wdc. now as principal he could make sure that his drivers did better than he did. maybe it was to relive his youth, the way having you on his arm made him feel in his twenties again.

your smile could warm a brick of ice. especially when you tried to cover your mouth when you got shy. you stood out in the paddock, you were dressed so sweetly. while most were in branded with the mclaren logo. you were in a pretty sundress. it was an olive green colour with off white flowers printed on it.

lando saw you playfully slap his driver on the shoulder before you giggled. it made him get up from his desk and take off his headphones. he clenched his fists before he draped an arm around your shoulders. he smiled at his driver as you got pushed against his chest.

"what are you doing, sweetheart? shouldn't you be with the other girls? this is the boy's area." he said, as if there weren't more women in formula one since he raced.

you looked to your lover and giggled, "well, i wanted to see the action! and he was filling me in with what was going on."

he looked at his driver, the younger man wanted to fill you with something that was for sure. didn't help that the dress showed more of your breasts than he usually liked. lando looked to the other man and said, "i think it's time to get in the car soon. big day today."

the driver nodded, wanting to impress his boss. lando felt a swell of pride at his ability to scare off the younger man without much effort. his attention was taken back to you as you held onto the front of his shirt.

"meanie."

"meanie, huh?" lando laughed a little, "i'm not a meanie, sweetheart."

you nodded. you were so dumb it was cute, it was like a kitten that hadn't grown their teeth. you nipped rather than bit. you needed to be protected, sheltered. and the new mclaren driver was getting too close.

lando dropped his hand to your ass and gave it a firm squeeze, "right, right. because a meanie would buy his beloved girl anything she asked for. or make sure she was comfortable on every trip. all paid for, but i'm the real meanie right."

you dropped your shoulders a little, "you're not a meanie, landy."

he smiled and kissed you on the top of the head, "thank you, babe. now why don't you go see the others. race is gonna start soon." then gave your ass a pat before you left.

-

it would be a few nights later in your shared home. lando would meet you in the bedroom with a box. it wasn't an engagement ring. but something else. when you opened it, his eyes lingered on you.

"what is it?" you asked.

he smiled, "just open it. i promise it won't bite." then sat on the edge of the bed as you carefully opened the box. his eyes lingered on your breasts in the thin tank top you wore to bed.

inside the box was a gold necklace. a thin chain with his name on it, "lando". you picked it up from the box and admired it. you looked up at him and he kept his smile.

"either you wear the necklace with my name on it, or wear my bruises around your neck." his tone was dark, but his smile was like the sun, "i have to make sure that no one gets the wrong idea. i don't like sharing, babe. i'm greedy."

you nodded. so soft under his touch. you only wanted to make lando happy, be his special girl. you said to him, "you know i'd never cheat."

lando took your face in his hands and pulled you in for a heated kiss, "i know. it's not you i have the issue with. it's other men. the most dangerous thing on the planet is a man. and i need you safe. protected." before he got on top of you, to savour his girl, he put the necklace on you. he said, "there, that's perfect." he then cupped your breasts before he licked his lips, "it's improved your whole look."

you yelped as he got you onto your back and his hands on the waistband of the panties you were going to sleep in. you could feel his hungry gaze on you.

"such a little dummy." he chuckled as he yanked the panties down, "the prettiest thing i own." something curled in your stomach. a much older man with a lot of power at his disposal, yearning for something to pretty to fuck.

you practically wore a collar with his name on it so in case you got lost, someone would find you and bring you back to him. it was cute. with your soft lips and the roundness to your face. you looked like a painting on a chapel ceiling. an angel that lando got to pluck the wings off almost every evening.

your body responded to him well as he pushed the tank top off of you, revealing your stomach and eventually your breasts. lando realized that he liked women with a little softness to them. models were pretty, but you were beyond pretty. you curves as soft as your personality. a little dumb for him, nothing in that little head of yours. it was cute. that was why lando was so protective (possessive) of you.

once you were naked, you laid out on the bed. the soft bed that you slept in almost every night. lando got on top of you and eyed your naked form. stripped of everything except for the necklace. it was cute. maybe lando would break his promise and bruise up your pretty throat with his bites.

he got undressed and got between your legs with your knees bent. he even grabbed one of the pillows to elevate your hips for him. to get at the right angle.

"you're mine, right?" he said, "no one else's?"

you nodded, "of course, landy. i'm yours!" your voice was a little higher, sweeter for him. and it made something curl in his gut. you were so innocent, sweet in a way.

"that's what i like to hear, baby. you're such a good girl for me. letting me have a taste of you as often as i can. that's why i have to make sure you don't go running off. you're one in a million and i can't take a chance like that. losing something to sweet. it would be criminal."

his voice was tinged with possessiveness. and when he sank into you and started with a quick pace, you yelped and clung onto him tightly. your back arched a little at the feeling of his cock inside of your slick pussy. even though you were soaked between your legs, the intrusion was still a lot for you.

"you are so pretty on my cock. this is where you belong. letting me fuck you until you get your fill. you're a greedy little thing, aren't you? i'm pretty sure i could throw you to the mclaren team and it wouldn't be enough for you. put you in a little bikini and a sign in your ass saying that you're free use. first come, first serve. and let them all have their way with you." his pace quickened as his cock felt like it was going to bruise your insides.

you whimpered and arched your back. your hands found the pillow under your head as he fucked you heavily. he panted heavily, paired with your loud moans. you were always so loud, lando one time had to gag you with your panties when he fucked you in his office. in fairness, maybe he could slow down the pace. but where was the fun in that?

lando continued, he was a man on a mission. determined in a way that made heat rise in his gut. you looked so good on your back, under him. the steady rise and fall of your chest. your sweet moans and heavy pants. how you clung to the pillow with your pretty nails. lando made your lifestyle possible, the best you could do was reward him with your pussy. a thank you for all the hard work he does.

"please, ah!" you whimpered as you arched your back a little more. you felt the heat in your gut. your cunt felt like a dream around his cock. your toes curled from the sensation. "please, please, ah! lando!"

"so pretty." he said as he continued to thrust into you. his pace was aggressive, almost bruising. he watched you squirm a little as your noises got louder and tighter.

"i'm cumming!" you whined as you felt climax crash over you. you tensed up for a moment, which made lando see stars, before you relaxed with a heavy exhale.

"fuck." he panted as he continued to ram into you. the sounds of your fucking filled the room paired with your soft, post-orgasmic moans. he watched you kick out your legs a little. all the fight left your body. he finished inside of you soon after with a loud groan, his cock shoved as deep as it could go.

he knew it was a risky game with unprotected sex. but, just like everything else. lando would take care of it if anything went wrong. he admired your blissed out features. in your own little dumb world as the after shocks of pleasure coursed through you.

"perfect." hes aid softly before he pulled out.

you laid out next to him on the bed as you tried to catch your breath. lando took you gently by the chain you wore, the necklace he bought you. and you laid up next to him. curled up at his side.

lando rubbed the side of your head lovingly as he chuckled a little bit. "this is how i like you, sweetheart. all curled up next to me." he got your leg over his thigh and held it as he kissed at your face.

maybe next time he'll take some photos of his precious girl in nothing, but your little necklace. maybe sharing those around the paddock will keep those men away from you. <3

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Hey :) Hope you're doing well, I read some of your Aemond fanfics, and they were great. I was hoping you could write a Jacaerys x Alicent daughter fanfic. Something about an arranged marriage, you can take it anyway you wish, but could there be some angst in there. with the prompts 1. ‘’My blood is not noble enough for a prince.’’ and 14. ‘’I’m not used to this. Being a wife.’’

Thank you :)

Request: Alicent’s second daughter to marry Jacaerys to unite the houses

Thank you for the compliment on my Aemond fics <3 More will be coming soon. Also, I was not able to use the first prompt as it doesn’t work with the characters. Alicent’s daughter’s blood is more noble than Jacaerys since her father is king and his mother is princess. I hope you still enjoy what I wrote for you <3

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Twenty years ago, when Viserys made Rhaenyra his heir, the knights and houses who swore allegiance to him had no choice but to accept her as their future queen. She was the king’s only child. But now that the king had a male heir — and a spare —, there were possibilities that people would oppose her claim to the throne and demand Aegon to wear the crown. 

To prevent the situation from happening, the king and queen, along with Rhaenyra, made an accord that Rhaenyra would ascend the throne following the king’s death, but to unite the houses, the princess’s firstborn son — and heir — would marry Alicent’s second daughter and, one day, inherit the throne together. 

Like any political marriage, you nor Jacaerys had a choice or say. At least he wasn’t an older lord you had met once or twice. You knew Jacaerys — a little. He was kind, loyal and protective. He was a good man. 

Prior to that arrangement, your grandsire, Otto, had been talking to you about having a tourney to meet suitors, but your mother had been quick to oppose to the idea. She didn't want you to be the victim of his scheming like she had been at your age. 

You were drawing under the weirwood tree when Jacaerys stepped into the yard, having just arrived in King’s Landing. Its red leaves matched the color of your dress, making him smile. He liked you in red. 

‘’I was told by the servants that my wife was out here.’’ 

Immersed in your drawing, you didn’t hear the prince approaching. You only glanced up when you heard your new title, the sound of his voice almost making you drop your charcoal onto your dress. Your mother would have been furious.

A soft laugh left your lips. Moons have passed since the wedding, yet being called a wife still felt strange. ‘’I’m not used to this. Being a wife.’’

‘’Me either,’’ Jacaerys admitted. ‘’What are you drawing, Princess?’’ 

You reflected his smile as he approached. ‘’Just some birds.’’

Jacaerys walked up to the tree and sat beside you. He had a bit of dirt on his jacket from sparring with Ser Criston in the training yard. 

‘’How was your training session with Ser Criston?’’ you asked, raising a hand to run through the front of his hair, fixing an unruly curl that was on the wrong side. 

The older he got, the more he looked like Ser Harwin Strong. He had the same dark brown curls. But you would never dare saying that out loud. Although you meant it as a compliment, the mere insinuation of his illegitimacy was a vile insult to the crown — to the princess. 

‘’I disarmed him twice…and I ate some dirt.’’ The brunet grimaced, the earthy taste still lingering on his tongue. ‘’It was a blessing that no one was watching.’’  

‘’Mayhaps you need an opponent that is closest to your age?’’ you suggested, not finding it fair that he was sparring against a grown man who had years of practice as a knight. ‘’You could ask Aemond to train with you? He is training for the upcoming tourney, but I’m sure he would a accept to help you.’’

Jacaerys hummed, then leaned back against the weirwood tree, taking a moment of rest. He watched with quiet admiration as you continued your drawing, fascinated by the way you could, with a few strokes of charcoal, illustrate pretty much anything. Birds, flowers, dragons, or portraits of your family. 

Much like your twin brother, you favored solitude over socializing. When the betrothal was announced to you, you assumed that this tranquility would be disrupted, but it turned out that Jacaerys enjoyed it too. Partially. While he often thrived on the excitement and duty that came with his heir title, he found it relieving that he could find peace and comfort in your silent company. 

‘’I’m going back to Dragonstone in the morrow,’’ the prince announced, breaking the serenity of the quiet.

‘’How long for?’’

Jacaerys shifted, fearing the conversation that was to come. ‘’No. I’m going back to Dragonstone…permanently.’’

You stopped drawing, a sudden knot forming in your stomach. ‘’And what of me?’’ 

‘’You can join. Or not. That is up to you.’’ 

‘’And what of us? What of our marriage, Jace?’’ you asked, turning your head toward him. 

When you got wed in the tradition of Old Valyria, you pledged to one another that you were one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever. Jacaerys returning to Dragonstone would break your duties to your House. 

‘’Dragonstone is easy to travel from and back on dragonback.’’ You began picking at your fingers, and Jacaerys noticed, taking your hand in his to stop you. ‘’I tried, but King’s Landing is not my home. I don’t belong here.’’

‘’I can’t leave my family.’’ 

‘’I left mine for you.’’ 

You pulled your hand from his hold and narrowed your eyes at him. Jacaerys moving to King’s Landing after the wedding ceremony was your father’s idea, not yours. How dared he blame you for a decision you didn't make?

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios @lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden@memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08  @mymultiveres  @secretsthathauntus  @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen@naty-1001@katiepie67@moshpot24x@hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler@saturn-sas  @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag@wondxrgurl@aerangi@strmborns@astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection

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[cuteandhughesy]

You Are In Love | Matthew Knies

summary: john tavares' sister is the social media manager for the leafs. she loves her job and the friendships she forms with the team - but what happens when her older brother invites her new crush to live with them.

14.2 + K

warnings: NSFW! secret relationship | brothers teammate | mutual pinning | fluff | suggestive themes | smut | kissing | oral (female receiving) | unprotected! p in v intercourse | read at your own discretion.

a/n: okay I write this like over a year ago so it’s not the best! also i originally wrote it with an original character in mind - so if you see a name instead oh y/n….no you didn’t.

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"he doesn't have a place to stay, so I offered him the other spare," john's voice was grainy over your cellphone speaker but you heard his words loud and clear. "It's the right thing to do."

"yeah!" you we're kind of in...shock. "The kids will love it..." they would - you weren't lying. that doesn't change the fact that you were kind of nervous.

your brother must've been able to tell by your tone, "you okay?" he asked.

you cleared your throat. "yeah."

"he's a good kid and he's your age - you've met him right?"

you have in fact met him. you have worked for the leafs for about a year. they had needed a new social media manager and somebody to run their teams tiktok account. When john told you, he said the team wanted more fun and interactive content on their pages and recommended you.

you had the degree and the charisma so you were hired with no questions. The fans loved the style of content you were posting, and the team had a great time answering your questions and lip syncing to stupid audios.

you were introduced to the newest maple leaf only a week ago. matthew knies had answered one of your daily questions before a practice and you were totally in awe. convinced you had never seen a better looking guy your age, you immediately developed a crush on the rookie.

so yeah, "I've met him two or three times. very polite."

"yeah," john says. jace runs into your legs and you grunt out from the force of your nephew slamming into your shins.

aryne walks into the living room with baby rae in her arms, she was feeding her. "is that john? is he on his way?"

"are you on your way?" you relay his wife's question. you can hear his turn signal in the background.

"yeah, 10 minutes away."

"10 minutes," you tell your sister in law. she smiles at you, ruffling jace's hair as she passes. your nephew has climbed into your lap, playing with the string of your hoodie.

"so," you begin, "when does he move in? do I need to get the bedroom ready..or?" you tried not to make yourself seem to eager to know. your brother couldn't know about your crush on his teammate.

"no no, i'll do the room. don't worry," john says, "he'll be moving in, probably in the next few days. I'll get everything ready when I get in."

you hold in a sigh. "okay, well, i'll let you go, I've gotta wake Axton up and help out with dinner."

"okay, I'll see you all in a bit. love you guys."

"love you," you say, "Jace say bye daddy." you hold the phone up to the little boys ear and he says just what you told him to. John and you laugh and then hang up.

yourself and aryne get dinner started after axton woke from his nap. aryne and you had always gotten along great, which is lucky considering she's married into the family. you're just glad she wasn't some stuck up girl like the kind of girls you'd grown up with. she was like the sister you've never had, which is why she could tell something was on your mind.

"you're quiet," she observes, slicing her knife through the carrot sticks. "you okay?"

"yeah," you say it too cheerful and immediately cringe at yourself, eyes not leaving the potatoes you'd been peeling. "just you know, nervous about the new...roomie. it's like college all over again," you try and laugh it off but aryne raises a brow.

"why would you be nervous?"

there really wasn't a point in lying to her. not only was she like a big sister but she acted like a best friend. "aryne I'm convinced i'm in love with him. he's the most beautiful man I've ever seen." you groan, hands falling into the pile of peelings in defeat.

"oh god," she says. she puts her knife down as jace and axton run through the kitchen giggling. "boys! no running please."

"Don't tell john," you say. "It's nothing serious - just a crush!"

"You know me," aryne says, hand on her hip. "our secrets stay our secrets." she goes back to her chopping. "besides," you look towards her with raised brows, "he's a cutie, maybe you guys will -"

"enough!" you throw a peel at her.

"hey!" johns voice calls through the house, and the sound of four feet running towards him can be heard. baby rae giggles and coos in her high chair as your brother enters the kitchen.

"hey," he repeats, kissing aryne on the lips and squeezing your shoulder on his way past. "what are you two gossiping about,"

"nothing," you say, putting the potatoes in the pot as you and aryne begin boiling the soup.

—

matthew had moved in a week ago. you were right, jace and axton adored him. so did you but you didn't mention that to anybody except aryne and only after two glasses of wine.

you're sure he is actually the sweetest guy like ever. not only does he treat your nephews and niece with the most gentle care, but he has so much love and respect for your brother and sister in law for letting him stay in their home. aryne says she sees him looking at you often, but you don't believe her. matthew was just as lovely when he spoke to you at home and at work - which is weird saying 'see you at home' to two leafs now - but you digress.

It was wenesday morning practice, and you were working. it was question day, so last night around midnight when you happened to remember - you grabbed the bristol board and sharpie and wrote: 'who's your celebrity crush?'

you stood near the entrance of the rink, cup of hot tea in your hands, with the board propped up against your legs. your co - worker, maddie, was holding the work phone, ready to record the players heading onto the ice, answering the prompt as they came from the locker room.

morgan rielly came first and chuckled at the sign.

"cmon mo, give us an answer," you laughed along with him.

he hummed for a moment but settled on, "megan fox."

you and maddie were getting a lot of the same answers, megan fox or margot robbie with an odd ball thrown in every now and then.

"here we go," you laughed knowingly as mitch marner slowed down to read the sign. he dropped his head back in defeat, "can I say my fiancé?"

you groaned, "mitch no."

and then you noticed another body slow down and read the sign as well. you tried not to blush when you smelt the cologne on matthews neck, a dead giveaway that it was him.

mitch rubbed his jaw, "you guys make these too hard," mitch concludes, "you're trying to put me in the dog house."

matthew laughs and your knees get weak.

maddie scoffs, "it's not hard, you're just difficult."

"exactly," you agree.

"alright, let me see the phone," mitch grabbed the cellphone, directing it in your direction, a giggling maddie behind mitch's shoulder. "alright, kniesy , get your interview pants on."

and matthew goes along with it. you didn't think he was comfortable enough - too shy maybe but no. he held a fake microphone towards your mouth and asked "who's your celebrity crush, Ms. Y/N Tavares?"

you felt your face wanting to get hot and you internally scolded yourself. "oh you know.."

"it's not difficult," mitch mocks you and matthew laughs.

you grab the non existent microphone, which just ends up with you pulling Matthew's glove closer to your face, holding his hand in place. "oh my god, It's Dylan O'brien you freaks." matthew laughs as he looks down at you. "now let me do my job and ask you the questions."

mitch gives a laughing maddie the phone back as william nylander walks out, followed by john. your brother barley stops to look but laughs, walking away as he calls out his answer.

william ponders briefly but says, "madison beer." mitch sucks in air fast, "good one!" mitch starts to walk away, "i'll say margot robbie!"

"boring!" maddie shouts with a laugh.

matthew stands with his hand on his hips and takes a deep breath but then he just like, walks away which is...rude.

"hey," you say, "are you going to answer?"

he looks back with what looks so be a slight smirk, "I can't tell - it's a secret!" and you swear you see him wink at you, but based on maddie's reaction of turning to you all wide eyed and open mouthed - you are certain matthew knies definitely winked at you.

—

matthew was sitting on the family room couch, scrolling through his phone as you came down the stairs. at the sound of your foot steps, he looked up and towards you, a small smile overtaking his lips.

you sent him a closed mouth smile back. "hey."

"morning," matthew said. he couldn't help but notice how fresh you looked. you had just showered and gotten ready, and matthew was smitten at the smell of your strawberry honey shampoo mixed with whatever sweet fragrance you sprayed on.

"are the kids up yet?" you didn't hear them, so you knew the answer already.

"don't think so," he hums, "just us so far."

you nod in agreement. "well, I was gunna head for some tims coffee before anybody had woken up, but, I mean, did you want to come with me?"

he was up off the couch before you could finish, "yeah." he said it so casually and the way he whipped on his hat so perfectly and grabbed his keys was just....ugh.

you two made small talk until you were both seated and buckled into matthews car. he passed you the aux cord wordlessly, which was just, wow. you bit your lip to stop yourself from smiling too hard and took the cable from him, hitting shuffle on your playlist.

"so," he started, pulling out of the driveway, flicking on his signal for the passing cars on the street. "how long have you been working for the team?"

he glanced at you quickly before pulling onto the street, the gps pulled up on his phone between his (massive thighs) legs, letting him know where to go.

"probably about a year now...and maddie joined me about 3 months ago. she's great and has helped a lot." after all, what if matthew wasn't winking at you but maddie - what if all this time he's been trying to get know maddie. how humiliating would that be - god he probably doesn't even think -

"do you like it?" matthew brought you out of your depletion. the way he had said it was almost like he could read your thoughts and he was telling your brain to shut up.

matthew didn't know you were johns sister when he first met you. not until you were introduced as so. sure, you both had dark hair and the same eyes, but you were a girl and matthew was clueless so why would he assume that the girl who thought was the most beautiful woman he's ever seen was related to his new captain.

it wasn't until auston matthews said, "have you met johns sister yet?"

"I don't think so," matthew said, "was I supposed to?" he had been confused because why would johns sister be there.

"our social media girl? you know, the hot one with dark hair." auston said it so nonchalantly but matthew felt his face drop. it couldn't be.

"fuck." was all he could say because fuck was right. he was lusting over his captains sister.

"yeah, I love it actually," your answer to his question snapped matthew out of his thoughts. "everybody is so lovely, and the friendships i've gained with the guys, it's amazing...even when mitch drives me up the wall."

he could just tell by the tone of your voice that you truly loved working for them. his phone alerted him they were two minutes away from tim hortans.

"the guys like having you around," matthew says. "or at least I do anyways, It's nice."

"thanks. means a lot." you look over at him and admire his side profile. he is so handsome. the music stops and changed over to the next song. with furrowed brows, matthew glances to the screen and then smirks. "big swiftie?"

you were kinda shocked that's what he said first and didn't slander her. "yeah," you said carefully. "are you?"

he laughed, "duh."

you gave him a skeptical look as the car pulled into the entrance of the coffee shop. he glanced over and saw your face in disbelief and rolled his eyes playfully.

you laughed out in shock, "hey! you can't blame me for being skeptical."

"you're right," he surrenders one of his hands, the other using the wheel to steer them into a parking spot (which was super hot.) "what If I told you i'm in my 1989 era? would you believe me?"

he unbuckled his seatbelt and you stared at him fondly. a look that had matthews stomach doing flips. "yeah. i'd believe you."

"good." he jumped out of the car and rounded to your side to open the damn door like some gentleman and you swooned. a swiftie and opening the door? was he just full of green flags? "you're definitely in your lover era," he states, "the vibes are too strong for any other era."

you laughed. "lover is great."

and when you both made it inside and started the order, you felt like crying when matthew ordered timbits for the kids, got john and aryne a drink and asked what you wanted and then payed for it all wordlessly - you swore you were in love.

as you waited for the drinks you could feel matthews eyes looking down towards you, because hell he was tall and had no choice but to look at the top of your head. "do you always get that drink?"

you rolled your head back to look into his eyes and nodded. "yeah, you can try it if you want."

"i'll stick to my hot drink," he smirks. "hot coffee over cold all day."

you have him a perplexed look. "what?! you're wrong."

"I'm not!" he laughs, moving to grab the tray of beverages as the teen calls it out from behind the counter. "my taste it clearly superior if we're even having this conversation."

you chuckle, "sure big guy."

back in his vehicle, your music resumes from where it left off, the stunning cords of corniela street flowing through the speakers once more.

"that would be a good question for your account." Matthew starts and you raise your brows in question. "ask the boys what their favourite Taylor swift song is? I bet the fan girls will love it - mitch too."

you think it actually would be a good question and take a mental note. "I agree."

__

It was after a team breakfast when you chose to go around with your mini - microphone to ask the boys questions for this weeks video. the team was all dressed comfortably, which is a nice change for the feed, most of them happy and full of delicious food so it was easy to get them to comply for the video.

It was just you today, maddie had the day off so you went around with your phone in one hand, paperwork under one arm and mini mic in the other hand.

"nick, what's your favourite taylor swift song?" nick robertson looked at you with raised eyebrows. he kissed his teeth and his hands on his hips before leaning down to the microphone.

"anti - hero." you thanked him and he laughed. "was that a good answer?"

you smiled, "yes."

and you kept moving, asking any player who you laid eyes on.

"joseph, what's your favourite taylor swift song?" "love story"

"willy, what's your favourite taylor swift song?" "look what you made me do."

"mitch, what's your favourite taylor swift song?" "my fiancés is cardigan so cardigan."

"auston, what's your favourite taylor swift song?" you asked the forward, with a smirk on his lips he looked down at you.

"I don't know any." he was teasing you, obviously.

"yes you do," you laughed, "think hard."

"I am."

matthew could hear your laugh from across the room and his eyes landed upon you and auston. he was looking at you with a look that Matthew didn't like and you were laughing at what he was saying and that made him feel a bit...funny.

before he couldn't even think about what he was doing, he marched over there, abandoning his conversation with kerfoot and joining you and auston.

"hey," matthew says. "are you doing questions today?"

and just like that, you smiled that bashful smile and your cheeks got warm and matthew felt good.

"yeah!" you said, microphone swiveling towards matthew as you captured the two of them on video. "matthew, what's your favourite taylor swift song?"

he smiled and wanted to scream. you had used his question. it filled him so much joy and pride because auston may find you hot and make you laugh but you were using his questions and blushing at him.

"well, y/n," matthew started, taking the mini - microphone from your hands and bringing it to his mouth. you giggled. like an actual little girl. "my favourite taylor swift is cornelia street."

you spit thickened and you felt like you couldn't swallow. oh, you think, that's the song you had played in the car when he proposed the question. it was so...sweet.

"mines probably you belong with me," auston speaks and you have to blink hard because you forgot the goal scorer was even there.

matthew was looking at you with a look that makes you hot and bothered. you're sure now, this isn't been in your head. he was flirting.

"thanks, yeah," you take back you're microphone, "thanks. I better go ask o'rielly the same question, he looks left out."

and then you just left, matthews eyes burning into your retreating figure.

you were so screwed.

—

after that video went out, fans were absolutely loving matthew knies. and fair enough, you think. he was especially popular with the leafs female audience, and once again, you couldn't blame them.

fans wanted more matthew knies - they loved him and loved when you posted videos with him or about him. you also happened to love it too so it was a win win.

"it'll be quick!" you say quickly, "don't you want me to succeed at my job? give me content." you pass your brother the phone.

matthew laughs at your words and you smile.

"do you think you have the idea of it john?" you and already explained when to stop the audio and when to pan to who about 8 times now.

"yeah, yeah." he says. "why can't I be in the video?"

"well one, the audio is only two people," you point out, fixing your hair, "and two, the fans love matthew. you're outdated old man."

your brother laughs.

"okay, ready?" you ask matthew.

he crosses his arms and it makes his chest look even broader. "oh yeah, y/n/n, cmon now."

john doesn't catch on to the lovetseuck look you're definitely giving his teammate - thank god. probably too busy thinking over his instructions again.

"okay, john," you say.

the tiktok starts and the audio begins. you instructed him to focus on you for the first portion. you begin lip syncing to emma chamberlains met gala interview with jack harlow.

"i'll see you in there,"

video stops. you tell him to pan to matthew then, who delivers his line perfectly in your opinion.

"cant wait. love you, bye."

he chuckles when the video stops and you can't help but smile at him. you tell john that both you and matthew will be in the next shot.

"love you," you lipsync with a smile and as instructed, matthew walks out of view, and the last seconds of the video you give a shocked look to the camera - playing out the original interview clip perfectly.

matthew laughs and you and john join him. "ugh, perfect."

john gives you a high five and moves to collect his bag out of the trunk of his vehicle.

matthew joins you as you watch the tiktok over. his body is warm against your back, breathing soft and it tickles your exposed neck, making your stomach tingle.

"they'll love it," you say, "my bosses and the fans."

"how could they not?" he says, eyes looking into yours. "we killed it. you killed it, like usual."

"don't praise me matthew it turns me on." you say before you can even think of who you're talking to. what the fuck, your face drops, why did I say that? "I mean -"

matthew looks at you with a look you can't quite decipher and then he says, "good." he smirks and just leaves, grabbing his bag and walking into the players section of the arena with john. leaving you dumbfounded.

after making sure the audio was properly synced up and that everything looked okay, you posted the tiktok to the maple leafs account with the caption: when the knies/tavares household pulls up for work.

your favourite comment was one you found that said they shipped you and matthew - but you kept that information to yourself.

—

matthew couldn't help but glance at you discreetly once again. he had actually lost count of all the times he found himself admiring the side of your face, only lit up by the movie playing infront of you.

he was slightly smirking when you looked over at him, "matthew, pay attention." you scolded, pulling the blanket up to your chin and rolling towards him on your side. you weren't touching, but the heat of his body made you shiver.

"sorry," he breathes, eyes moving back to the movie.

"I can't believe you've never seen this before, It's a classic." you stated.

"I don't usually like romance movies," matthew says.

you sit up slightly, "how to loose a guy in 10 days isn't just a romance movie," matthew laughs as you try and mimic his voice, "it's funny and unique and creative and- ugh, just look-" you are distracted by Matthew McConaughey teaching Kate Hudson how to ride a motorcycle. "if I was that annoying and somebody still fell in love with me, I'd be smitten."

"you are that annoying," matthew is giving you a look when you scoff and roll your eyes at him. just then the two of you are both laughing, matthews head falling to your shoulder.

"I can't believe you," it's a whisper as it leaves your lips, eyes downcast as you look into matthews eyes. his head is still on your shoulder, looking up at you like a giant puppy dog. "i'm not annoying."

he smirks and you have to refrain from kissing him. "you're not annoying, no."

you smile triumphantly before pushing his head off you softly, to which it's his turn to scoff into the dark room. "rude."

"you love it."

"i do," matthew says back. he watches your face heat up as you try and keep focused on the tv. he's in trouble.

__

you had always found him attractive, but something about him helping the kids make mini pizzas had you wanting to fuck the shit out of matthew knies.

he was so gentle with the boys, and you're heart just melted everytime.

john and aryne had gone out for the night for a date - which was much needed. the leafs had an off day, which was rare, so you made your brother and his wife take the time and focus on them - with the promise you and matthew would watch the kids. well, you promised you watch the kids. you told matthew he should go out with hang with his friends but he declined. 'I'd much rather stay here with you...and the kids of course'

oh okay matthew i'll just fall more in love with you.

"wow, jace look at your pepperoni smiley face!" you're holding rae as you praise your nephew and he giggles, showing you his little teeth. "is it ready for the oven?"

"yes," jace said.

"okay, hold my hand to get down." his little palm grabbed yours and he slid off the kitchen chair.

"matthew, is axton almost done?" jace pulled on the leg of matthews sweat pants with a giggle.

matthew looked down and laughed at the kids sweet expression, "just about buddy."

you rounded the island to looked at your other nephews pizza. "wow!" you smiled and axton gave you a toothy grin.

"axton wanna show your aunt how you put the cheese on?" matthew asked him and you gave an encouraging nod when the blonde looked back up at you.

his chubby little fist grabbed a handful of shredded mozzarella and let it fall on the pizza with a laugh.

"good job baby!" you said, ruffling his hair. "is it ready to go in the oven?"

"yes," he gurgled.

"alrighty," matthew picked him up, swinging his little body out of the chair and placing his feet on the ground. "let's get these in the oven, don't touch okay guys. it's very hot."

"listen to matthew - I gotta put your sister down for bed, okay? i'll be back soon" you told them and they nodded. matthew watched your retreating figure with a grin on his face. he had put the two pizzas in the oven and sat with jace and axton in the living room. the boys were playing with toy cars and then suddenly jace bounced over onto matthews lap with a cheeky grin.

"what's up dude?"

"do you love my aunt y/n?"

"what?" matthew asked, tickling his stomach to make the boy laugh. "where'd you learn that from?"

"I learned from mommy." he said. "she says to aunt y/n that you love her."

oh, he thinks, am I that obvious about my feelings.

"i love everybody in this house. even you jacey." matthew says and jace, satisfied, leaves his lap, playing with his toys again, the only sound being the toy car wheels running on the hardwood floor and the hum of the over cooking the pizzas.

matthew thinks about you then, and how perfect you are. your smell, your smile, you're body...he needs a cold shower and a reality check.

later after you ate dinner and put the boys to sleep, you and matthew were busy in the kitchen. matthew was putting away pizza toppings and wiping down the counter top while you were elbow deep in soap suds.

you heard matthew chuckle to himself and you quirked an eyebrow, looking over his shoulder.

"what's so funny over there?"

he looked up at the sound of your voice and shook his head. "nothing, just -" he collected a handful of dirty dishes left over on the island and brought them over to the filled sink. "-earlier, jace asked me If I loved his aunt y/n."

your hands stopped scrubbing the plate you were working on, looking up towards him on your left. he was leaning his hip against the counter, arms crossed as he watched you.

"oh, god," you chuckled breathlessly. "sorry, he's just, curious."

"I don't mind, really." matthew says it quick and it makes you swallow hard. "At least he doesn't think I hate you...which is good. because I don't."

"right," you laughed, "I don't hate you either."

he looks at you all soft and you just want to grab his face with your hands, soap and all, and kiss him.

"y/n..." his arms uncross and it looks like he's about to reach out and touch you. "I've been waiting-"

the code beeps at the front door. "we're home." aryne says, smile happy and cheeks warm. stomach full of one glass of wine...or two glasses.

you try not to let your face show disappointment as matthew does the same.

"the kids go down okay?" john asks, tossing his keys on the counter.

"yeah," you clear your throat, eyes darting back to the sink. "everything is great."

"thanks again," aryne says, hugging your waist from behind. "you guys are the best."

"of course." matthew said. you glanced at him softly out of the corner of your eye, but he was already looking at you.

—

with the playoffs, it was harder to get content like you usually strive after. the boys were busy with extra practices and they were extremely focused on trying to win games - which, you know, was good.

so you got the most content with fans before the games, taking pictures and videos for the account - which was just as fun.

the guys rocked the first round and you texted matthew every night when they were in tampa, congratulating him on his goals and the teams performance: you tried not to scream of joy when he had sent back the kissing face emoji.

fast forward to a rather difficult round two. thankfully the leafs had pushed it to a game five, which was...good you suppose but still nerve wracking nonetheless.

you had been standing with aryne when it happened. often when you worked, you tried to join aryne and the kids during the warm up to capture some family content for the page. you were entertaining jace as the boys played, your eyes weren't even watching the ice or anybody but then the crowd stood in a rather negative uproar - and not the kind of disappointment when flordia scored a goal - it was different.

"oh no," aryne winced and your eyes shot up, seeing matthew laying on the ice looking rather...uncomfortable.

"what's happening?" you asked her. the trainer had reached matthew and was speaking to him with a hand on his back.

"he kinda got...slammed down. his head hit the ice."

it took a few minutes but he slowly got up, but had headed straight down to the tunnel. the game resumed but you had been too distracted by what happened to pay attention. 20 minutes passed and he still hasn't returned, which wasn't good.

"maybe you should go check on him?" aryne suggested.

you stopped biting at the skin of your thumb. "no, i'm okay." you said it quick and not even you were convinced at your own words.

aryne sighed. "y/n..."

you didn't budge.

"he doesn't have any family here besides us...I'm worried too and axton keeps asking about him - and I can see that you're stressed. go."

you took a moment but nodded in agreement, "okay, yeah," you grabbed your pass around your neck as a nervous habit, "yeah, are you okay with the kids?"

"of course," she said.

"I'll text you."

It didn't take long to reach the assessment room. that's where you found matthew and the team doctor and trainers. they turned at the sound of you entering the room and the trainer sent you a tight lip smile. the doctor was doing another test on matthew but you could tell by his eyes. something was wrong.

"is he okay?" you asked billy, the usual trainer, in a whisper.

"concussion for sure," he sighed, "even if the season keeps going, he won't be able to play."

you felt like crying for him. his nhl dream is cut short for the season. "oh." you whispered.

"y/n?" matthew asked. you tucked some hair behind your ear and moved towards him.

"hey.." you sat down in the stall next to him. billy was directed by the doctor to speak outside, giving you and matthew a moment alone. "how are you feeling?"

"like shit," he sighs, head falling back against the stall. "This sucks." you think you see his lip quiver and that makes your heart ache.

"It does," you agree, placing a hand on his knee and rubbing it soothingly.

"how come you came down here?" matthew asked, "i'll be fine."

you shake your head and look down, tears collecting in your waterline. "oh you know...the boys were wanting me to check -" you look up towards his face and he looks at you so concerned - the guy with the concussion was looking at you like he was concerned about you.

"I was so worried." you admit finally, tears welling in your eyes. "i'm just...sad for you."

"don't cry," he says softly, "I don't want you to be worried about me. I'll be okay." he tucks a piece of hair being your ear, hand trailing down your pleather jacket. "I mean, I got a killer headache but it'll go away," you gave him a look. "besides, if you worry too much you'll give yourself a stroke and then our new social media manager won't be you and then I can't flirt." he was trying to be funny.

"don't crack jokes," you try and scold him, "it's not funny." you can't help but smile though.

his fingers play with your keycard around your neck. "I feel better seeing you though. anytime I see you I automatically just feel like 100 times better."

"matthew," you whisper, "you're too concussed to be flirting like this."

"yeah, but," he grabs your cheek softly, "I mean it. y/n, I really like talking with you, and flirting with you, and hanging out with you. the other day in the kitchen...I was going to tell you but then your brother came in- I know I like you."

you smirked, "like as a friend or.."

"shut up.." he mumbled through his grin.

you kiss him, gently as you didn't want to shake his brain anymore than it's already been shook. his lips carefully move against yours in a way that feels so soft and comfortable you could cry again. matthews hand drops from your face and down your chest, forearm wrapping all the way around your waist until he's pulling you to stand, dragging you towards him, slipping his thick leg between both of yours.

he grunts out and the buzzer goes off throughout the area, signalling the end of a period. reluctantly, you pull away, hands caressing the side of his face. "did that hurt your head?"

the way you ask it so genuinely makes matthew feel like he's healed. he smirks lazily up at you, "no -i'm feeling really good."

the door clicks, signaling its being opened and you jump away from him, running a hand over your hair in attempt to look natural- and if matthew had to cover his crotch that was nobody's business. 

later after a disappointing end to the game, successfully ending the leafs season, you all made it home. aryne had ordered pizza as john said he wanted something greasy - which was nice. the entire time at the table, you kept catching matthews eyes, to which he'd smirk and look away. you're positive your cheeks were permanently red for the duration of dinner.

and when you slipped your foot up matthews leg and he had to cough to cover his gasp, well, you couldn't help but smile cheekily to yourself.

you were laying in bed. glancing at the clock at the top left of your phone screen you groaned put. 1:38 a.m.

without thinking much of it, you opened your text messages.

y/n tavares

you can't tell john

his replay came almost immediately.

matthew knies

I won't

matthew knies

why are you still awake?

y/n tavares

just been thinking a lot

y/n tavares

why are you still awake. you aren't supposed to be on your phone

matthew knies

🤷. it's my hourly wake up. aryne was just in here to check on me

matthew knies

why's got you thinking so much that you can't sleep?

y/n tavares

you honestly

matthew knies

me…why?

y/n tavares

because we kissed

matthew knies

<3

—

the next morning was quiet. everybody woke up around 9, even the kids which was nice. you all had breakfast together not long after waking, and then right around lunch, john and aryne took this kids to aryne's mom's, leaving yourself and matthew alone.

you walk down the staircase after returning from your room, pulling the hoodie you had retrieved over your shoulders. matthew was sitting at the kitchen island, twidling with his thumbs. he wasn't allowed screen time for 72 hours because of his concussion, resulting in a very uneventful morning.

you smile softly at him as he meets your gaze, a sudden nervousness washing over you. I mean, you two like totally made out the day prior, and you hadn't stopped thinking of his lips since.

matthew was the same way. not a second had gone by without thinking of you and the kiss, hell, it was all he could really do without his phone - even after the texts he shouldn't of responded to anyways - he would do anything for you.

"hey," you start and he smirks lazily at you.

"hey," matthew repeats. the two of you hadn't had a moment alone since the kiss and suddenly everything felt really real.

you tug at the sleeves of your hoodie, sitting down at the empty barstool beside him. "how are you feeling?"

"better now that you're here." he says easily, leaning in closer to you. you blush under his intense gaze, biting your lip as you watch his eyes flicker down to your mouth and up again. "how are you feeling?"

you frown slightly, "I'm fine?" you laugh.

"I mean, like, since we kissed." you don't say anything at first so matthew continues, "I like you, like, a lot and everything I said last night...I meant. but I didn't even ask you how you were feeling or if you felt the same way. I just want to check on you."

oh, you think, that's actually really sweet. "matthew I haven't stopped thinking about you since the moment we met. I've had a crush on you like this whole time," you say shyly and matthews smirk grows, "I was so nervous when john told me you were staying here because I thought if you were around me too much you would get sick of me and then you wouldn't fall hopelessly in love with me," you laugh. "but i suppose I was wrong."

"you were definitely wrong," he agrees, tucking a piece fallen hair behind your ear. he moves down your body until he's interlocking fingers with the hand you had resting on the table and he squeezes it three times. "when I first met you, I didn't even know you were johns sister."

"no?"

matthew laughs, "no! and then auston asked if I had met johns sister. he said you were the hot one."

you laugh, "auston thinks im hot?"

"hey!" matthew laughs, "too late for that. anyways - I thought there was no way that the most beautiful girl i'd ever seen was the sister of my new captain. I thought there was no way that...this would happen."

he gestures between the two of you and you smile sweetly.

"guess i'm the luckiest guy in the world, huh."

"I think we both are pretty lucky," you slide off the stool, and matthew spreads his thighs as you move to stand between them, your hands wrapping around his neck as his rest on your lower back, dangerously close to the round of your ass.

matthew smirks.

"so," you state, "with that being said - I want you. like, all the time. even when you go back home, I don't want whatever this is to end."

"I don't want it to end," he agrees, "I want to like date the shit out of you."

you giggle and matthews heart flutters. you're so beautiful, he thinks.

"so you don't have like a girlfriend at home or anything?" you're joking but you do glance at him with a serious look and matthew's face drops.

"god no," he says, rubbing a hand over your ass. "and you don't secretly want auston right?" but he's truly joking and you roll your eyes playfully.

"nah, the guy I want is right here," matthew leans in and presses his lips to yours, squeezing you tightly and pulling your body closer to his. you sigh into it, fingers running through his hair.

"i'm going to miss you when you're gone," you say against his mouth.

"i'll miss you," he says quickly, "but in the mean time, i'll make sure to get as much as you as I can."

you lean in to kiss him again until your phone beeps with a text.

"it's john," you say, "he says there leaving now. they'll be home in 30."

matthew smirks, "mhmm what could we do for 30 minutes...?"

you giggle, running up the stairs towards your room, matthew following.

__

"mhmm, that feels so good." your words are a breathless sigh against the darkness of matthews bedroom.

his bright eyes flicker up to meet yours, his strong arms wrapped around your thighs as he spread your legs, giving himself free range to keep pleasing you.

once matthews concussion was cleared, he headed back home for a month to visit and catch up with his family and friends. that meant leaving you and your new relationship behind. he texted you constantly, so anytime john was near, you made sure the phone wasn't accessible to him.

both you and matthew were absolutely smitten for one another.

it was his first night back from his trip back home, and seeing him again for the first time made you horny - like, immediately. but of course, you controlled yourself around your family to keep the secret a secret. and you had controlled yourself for 10 long, excruciating hours. john and aryne had gone to bed around 9 and as soon as 10 was about to hit, you snuck down to matthews room.

so here you were, with matthews mouth working wonders on your pussy - the squelching of your wetness and breathy moans were the only noteble noises in the room. "fuck, matthew, keep doing that."

he groaned against you, and it had pushed you over the edge, cumming hard all over his face and his fingers he had buried inside you.

shirtless, he crawled up over your naked body, kissing your neck up to your face until you could taste yourself on him. "fuck," he said.

you pushed him onto his back, and he smirked, watching as you climbed on top of him. you pulled his cock out of his underwear, letting it slap hard against his toned stomach. using your slick, you coated his dick before using your hand to line him against your entrance.

you sunk down, moaning loud enough so that matthew had to cover your mouth with his big hand - which obviously turned you on more.

you started rolling and bouncing on his dick fast, gripping your tits as his free hand thumbed at your clit. "fuck, i'm gunna cum soon." he told you.

you moaned, "me too."

he smirked up at you all hot and sexy, "you gotta be quiet."

you smiled breathlessly, continuing to jump on him, taking all of him inside you. between your two bodies was soaked in your juices, making the noises in the room even more intense.

matthew grabbed your hips, flipping you onto your back without leaving your warmth, where's he started to fuck you at unfathomable levels, having your mouth hang open in a silent scream.

you were almost there, the coil in your stomach was about to snap until the light in the hallway flicked on. matthew stopped his movements, his one hand covering your mouth incase any noises slipped out.

his door was locked, of course, but what if. you start to pray it's somebody just using the bathroom but matthew starts to move inside you again, giving you a smirk. fuck, you think, this is so hot.

your eyes roll back and you grip his shoulder as you cum, tightening around his length as he plummets into you. out of the corner of your eye, you can see the light flicker off just as matthew shoots his load into you, effectively bringing your attention back to him. "ugh god." he says into your neck.

how the hell were you supposed to face anybody in the house tomorrow: how the hell were you going to walk after that.

__

you and matthew had a habit of discreetly slipping out to get the mail. you actually did always end up getting the mail - but it was never about that. you two just wanted to spend time with one another, away from prying eyes and questioning.

matthew's body was big and warm pressed up against yours. the heat of the setting sun was relaxing, setting the tone for when matthew could finally slip his hand into yours.

you sighed, head dropping to his shoulder as you approached the community mail box, about half a block away from the house.

"you okay?" he says softly and your heart just about wants to melt.

"yeah," you lean your head back to look at him, "I just needed this." you squeeze his hand to prove a point. "I missed you when you were gone."

"I missed you too," he stopped walked and wrapped you in a hug. "like, wayyyyy too much - I think I jerked off like 5 times-"

"ew!" you screeched out a laugh. "you're gross."

the ways he's smirking all hot and his tan skin and he's bulked back up already from the weight drop at the end of the season and it's just...so good. it gets even better when he kisses you, right in the middle of the sidewalk. and you think you want to marry him.

—

"anything exciting happen over the weekend?" maddie asked you, her soft lips tugged up in a knowing smirk. unlike the rest of the world, she knew about you and matthew and the blossoming relationship.

"nope," you say, setting up the daily question sign, along with your ring light and tripod: ready to capture the team.

"right..." she says, "so no...I don't know - 6 foot 3, hot, muscular, brunette hockey players pay your vagina any visits?"

"maddie!" you scold, "you're being too loud." you look around to make sure nobody was in earshot.

"what!" she laughs in defence. "it's like i'm watching a romance novel, I need to ask the right questions."

you start recording as the players exit the dressing room and make their way to the rink, passing you both, slowing down to read an answer the question provided.

"what's your favourite movie?"

you were getting a nice range of answers, which was good. from oppenheimer to when harry met sally - the boys did not disappoint.

you felt a nudge to your ribs from maddie, which made you raise your brows and look up from the work on the laptop. she gestured towards the players tunnel so you followed her eyesight, only to land on matthew walking out.

immediately, you felt hot, smiling as you made eye contact with him.

he smiled back, coming to a stop to read the sign. he walked closer until he was standing as close as he could to you with still being in camera view. "what's your favourite movie?" he asked you.

you suddenly became shy, tucking some curled hair behind you ear. "oh, I - I don't know."

"yeah, you do." he said immediately, that cheeky smile once again on his lips.

you looked up towards him gobsmacked, you you just knew maddie was watching you two with an open mouth and heart eyes. it's the way he was looking at you: so adoringly.

"probably how to loose a guy in 10 days." you say.

"okay mine too." he tells you and then directs his eyes to the camera. "how to loose a guy in 10 days."

and there's no way you can keep that interaction in the video and post it because the way he talks to you is so...hot.

"okay," you repeat back to him.

"okay," he says back, gloved fingers gently squeezing yours behind the bristol board before leaving you to stand alone, giddy as you watch him skate.

—

"careful, you're gunna get soap in my eyes," you scold matthew as his hands scrub your scalp with shampoo.

"close them then," he tells you and you gasp out a laugh, slapping his strong wet chest with your hand. he smirks, his fingers working wonders over your head, you eyes having no choice but to close in pleasure.

the two of you were taking advantage of the empty house, john away at an event for his foundation, aryne and the kids out visiting her parents and grocery shopping. as soon as the door clicked leaving the two of you alone, matthew practically raced you to the shower, stripping and stepping into the spew of water.

"alright, rinse." he tells you, directing you around to let the warm water wash away the suds.

"your turn," you say. you're stretching trying to reach the top of his head and he laughs down at you.

"having difficulty?"

you give him a look and it makes his smile wider. "help me," you eventually whine out. he obeys, his large hands wrapping around the back of your thighs, pulling you up to wrap around his hips.

as you begin to happily wash his hair, you feel his soft lips trail down your neck, down the valley of your breasts, and moving to take your nipple into his mouth.

"matty," your head falls back.

he stops, unwrapping your legs from his waist, placing you gently back on the floor. "I love when you call me that." your hearts swells at the look on his face, continuing to beat hard as he grabs your face and kisses you.

kissing matthew was always amazing. his lips were so plump and soft, making for the perfect make out everytime. what feels likes hours pass, his lips not once leaving yours. you swear if you looked down, your fingers would be pruned.

a soft knock on the bathroom door breaks you two apart and you gasp, slapping a hand over matthews mouth. he raises his eyebrows at you, unimpressed by your slap, but you ignore him.

"hello?"

"hey," aryne says on the other side of the door, "we're back."

"okay," you say, trying to ignore the way matthews big hands we're feeling you up.

"where's matthew?" his hands stop kneading your ass and he gives you a bewildered look.

"oh, umm, I think he's in his room." you say quickly.

"okay," she says, "I'm going to go see what he's feeling for dinner."

"no!" you say too loud and way too quickly. it has aryne frowning, hesitating by the bathroom door.

"no?"

you meet matthews eyes. "yeah, no. I think he's sleeping."

"okay," aryne doesn't sound convinced and that had you worried. "alright, well, i'm sure he won't mind whatever I decide."

"tell her i'm down for tacos." matthew whispers and you shush him.

"I think he mentioned something about tacos earlier, If that helps." you tell her matthews wishes anyways which earns you a cheesy grin from the man.

"okay," aryne says, "alright, anyways, I'll see you when you're done."

"yup," you say, listening to her footsteps as she walks away from the bathroom. immediately you groan, head falling to your boyfriends chest.

later after everybody has eaten dinner, the kids have been put to bed and matthew and john went downstairs to watch their highlights and game plays, you and aryne sat on the living room couch, cuddled up in pyjamas and glasses of wine: aryne sipping her red and you trying not to chug your white.

"so," her demeanour shifts from fun conversations and discussing what funny things the kids did at their grandparents to a more serious, inquisitive tone and immediately you feel worried. "how long have you and matthew been seeing each other?"

you spit your mouthful of wine back into your glass, sitting up in the couch a little straighter. "what," you splutter out, "I am not seeing matthew- I-Why would you even think that."

her face doesn't change, still the knowing smirk on her lips. "y/n, I'm not stupid."

"aryne - matthew and I - I don't even like him that much honestly," you try to be nonchalant, sipping your spat out wine with red cheeks.

"oh," she sits up, "so in the span of what, 7 months, you've gone from being totally smitten and in love to not even liking him?"

damn, she got you there. "yup." you lie, crossing your legs.

"please," she says. "also, you two weren't slick today."

you give her a look.

"I mean, at first I didn't think anybody was in the shower with you - but then when matthew had come downstairs form his 'nap' with damp hair - and smelling like your shampoo, I knew."

you didn't know why you wanted to cry. but you did, and when aryne looked at you again she frowned. "don't cry," she says, wrapping you in her sisterly hug. "why are you upset?"

"because," you sniffle, "you're right. we've been seeing each other since before the summer."

aryne laughs, "I knew it."

"how?" you say into her shoulder.

"y/n, he looks at you like you created the universe - like you could do no wrong. and you look at him the exact same. I just knew."

her words give you goosebumps - did he really look at you like that?

"you can't tell john."

she pulls back from your cuddle with raised brows, "you know me, y/n/n , cmon."

the two of you cuddled on the couch in silence after that, the proposal playing quietly on the tv.

"for what it's worth," aryne says after a moment, "I think matthews amazing, and you two are most definitely perfect. It makes sense. and I would never tell him, but your brother wouldn't be mad at you - he loves matthew, and he loves you."

"I know," you hum.

and that was it. the movie was watched until you both fell asleep under the thick knitted blanket you shared, cozied up on the couch, glasses on wine now empty and sitting on the coffee table.

john and matthew came upstairs, talking amongst themselves until they stumbled into the living room, going quiet at the sight of you two cuddled on the couch in a deep sleep.

"oh gosh," john chuckles quietly, moving towards his wife. "do you mind getting y/n to bed?" he asks matthew as he gently shakes his wife awake.

"sure," matthew says.

john wakes aryne, and she groans, letting her husband drag her to bed, nothing more than a quiet goodnight passing her lips.

as they left, matthew moves towards you with a full heart. your lips puffed out as your breathed, on the verge of a soft snore. he crouched down, a hand running over your hair to wake you gently.

your eyes flutter in confusion at first, but then they spot your boyfriend and you smile. "hi."

"hi." he says with the smirk you love so damn much.

"I fell asleep," you state, letting matthew sit you up.

"I can see that," he says, pulling you to your feet.

you naw on your lip as you two begin walking to your room. "aryne knows." you tell matthew.

"knows what?" confused, he questions you.

"about us." you clarify. something flashes on matthews face that you can't decipher. you think he may be mad, but then he breaks out into a grin. "why are you grinning like that?" you can't help but smile as well.

"that means you can sleep in my room tonight," he says, dropping you to his bedroom. "john and I will be leaving for practice, and aryne won't be confused why you aren't in your own bed - because she knows."

"you're right," you whisper, admiring how excited he was. "let's go to sleep then. take me to bed."

—

october 17th

it was late when john and matthew got home from their game, party decor from matthew's 21st birthday still hanging in the kitchen, cake still on the counter.

john had nodded a goodnight at the rookie, wishing him one more happy birthday before heading up to bed to join his wife in a deep slumber.

all the lights were off, saved for the one under the microwave...and apparently the backyard light, matthew notices, the warm glow illuminating the kitchen through the glass patio doors.

making his way over, he opened the door, peeking around the corner.

you were sitting on the patio couch, bundled up in your favourite oversized hoodie, and a pair of what matthew can tell are his sweatpants.

"hey," matthew whispers and you jump slightly, hand held to your chest.

"you scared me," you laugh. he shuts the patio door softly behind him, making his way over until he was sitting next to you. "i've been waiting for you."

"here I am," he smiles, bringing you into his chest. suddenly you are grabbing a throw blanket, tossing it over the two of you to protect you from the nippy october air.

"I had all these candles lit and was gunna order your favourite food and wear that set you like under my clothes and wear one of those coats, that you know, cover it, but then," matthew loved when you rambled, "the frickin wind kept blowing the candles out, and the thai placed was closed and well I got cold so I had to change out of the coat,"

you are wearing a slight pout and matthew just chuckles sympathetically, kissing the side of your head. "that's okay."

"I wanted it to be perfect for your birthday." you concluded.

"having you next to me is perfect enough," matthew admits and you look up at him softly.

he presses a quick kiss to your lips, leaving you hot and bothered when he pulls away. he really knows how to kiss. "I have one more gift for you," you smirk and matthew raises his brows.

"I don't need anymore gifts - oh," matthew watches as you sink to your knees infront of him, unbuckling his belt. he lifts his hips to help you pull his pants down his thighs, revealing his already semi hard dick in his boxers.

matthew shivers as you reach in with your cold hand and pull his dick out, it hardening completely at your touch. he groans when your tongue licks the underside of his dick, all the way up until you reach the head. you kiss the tip softly, licking the pre - cum from his slit. "fuck baby," matthew says.

you look up at him through your lashes, a smirk on your lips and matthew thinks he could cum right then and there.

you take him into your mouth, bobbing your head as you suck him off. your hands cover the portion of his dick your mouth can't reach, the combination leaving a hot wet mess on his dick. matthew is groaning, calling out your name until he's reaching climax.

"i'm gunna cum," he says and not a moment later, he's shooting his load in your mouth. you swallow all of him, sliding off his dick with a pop.

you giggle at his relaxed face, very much pleasured out. "happy birthday," you whisper, climbing on his lap so you are straddling him.

he grabs your hips and kisses you.

"did you like your gifts?"

"I did," he chuckles, "although the hoodie you got me may have some competition with the gift I just received," you blush and throw your head back with laughter.

he brushes his lips against your exposed throat and instinctively your hips roll against his crotch looking for friction. matthew moans again.

"i'm not fucking you out here, it's cold." you decide and matthew groans with disappointment. you laugh, hitting his shoulder. "i'll fuck you inside though."

"i'm sold," he says, picking you up off his lap and setting you on the ground. you grab his hand and he says, "earlier you said you had to change out of your coat..does that mean you're still wearing lingerie underneath these sweats?"

you give him a sultry look, "guess you'll have to find out."

"you're killing me," he says, letting you drag him back inside.

matthew is a very happy birthday boy when not 5 minutes later he sees you are still clad in midnight blue lacy garments. happy 21st birthday to him.

—

you had been intently trying to finish up some work on your laptop from the comfort of your own bed before the work day ahead - key word: trying.

not only were you tired (it was almost 1 a.m.) but you were grumpy because maddie was sick, so a bunch of extra work was dumped on you and your boyfriend wouldn't stop annoying you.

matthew wasn't even doing anything that outrages, just playing with your hair and kissing your neck and he kept trying to show you funny videos on tiktok that aren't even that funny.

he tickled your side and you pushed his hand away. "you're annoying me," you say.

he doesn't buy it, so he did it again. "pay attention to me," matthew all but whines and you have to refrain from snapping at him.

he wasn't even doing anything that annoying. in fact, if it was a regular day, you would welcome everything matthew was doing with open arms, happy that your boyfriend wanted your attention. but it wasn't a normal day, the stress of the work load slowly building.

"babe, you know I want to get this done and you keep distracting me! it's annoying." your tone was sharp, a warning.

"i'm not even doing anything that bad," matthew argues like a naughty toddler, sitting up so he can look right into your eyes.

the bar of your patience has overfilled, except you don't get angry - just overwhelmed: throat tightening.

when matthew sees your eyes start to get watery, he frowns, "hey, i'm sorry." he knows you've been stressed, with like...everything and that wasn't even including the stress of having a secret relationship, which was something he was apart in. "I didn't mean to annoy you."

you sigh, sniffling. "you're not even being annoying - it's just everything is stressing me out and overwhelming me."

matthew uses his thumb to wipes your tears. "I think you should take a break for the night. we can finish tomorrow, right?"

"yeah," you huff, wiping your eyes. "I didn't mean to snap at you. are you mad at me?"

"i'm not mad at you." he laughs because your question was, well,...ridiculous. he grabbed you, pulling you down to cuddle into him. a few minutes pass of him playing with your hair in a way that didn't annoy you, pressing kisses to your hairline that has a way of fluttering your eyes, sleep on your doorstep.

your almost sleeping when matthew speaks up.

"hey," he whispers. you look up at him with gentle eyes and he pauses briefly. "you're my best friend, you know that?"

you smile. "am I?"

"yeah," he says in a sassy tone that he does that drives you up the wall but you don't even care in that moment - because you have the sweetest guy ever. "besties." he mimics a typical girly voice that you can't help but roll your eyes playfully, "besties," you agree.

he smirks all hot and you feel it all the way down to your toes. when matthew lays you down on your back and slips his big strong hand underneath your waistband - you don't protest, suddenly wide awake.

__

seeing the other wives and girlfriends wearing WAG jackets while you didn't and couldn't was never a nice feeling. there's nothing you wanted more than to wear Matthews name on your back - but instead, you stood with the teams phone to capture moments for the account: very much jacketless.

you were taking a video of TJ Brodie's kids watch their dad excitedly, giggling happy as their dad passed you a puck through the camera hole for you to gift to them.

you beam down at the blonde kiddies as his wife tells their kids to wave to their dad when suddenly you see a maple leaf player slam their body into the glass beside you. looking up, you make eye contact with matthew.

he smirks, and you try not to seem to excited in the arena full of fans, your friends and your brother. you roll your eyes at him, waving the phone as to tell him you're working but he just rolls his eyes playfully back at you. he does a couple warm ups in-front of you, which you record, because hey, it's good content.

he uses his stick to pick up a puck, gesturing you to open the camera hole. which, you do, of course. he puts his hand through, holding out the puck for you to take.

"why are you giving me this?" you ask him.

he shrugs, "just giving back to my fans."

you laugh sarcastically, taking the puck and shoving it in your jacket pocket. "how kind."

he winks before skating away.

unbeknownst to the two of you, john watched the interaction from the blue line as he was stretching, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. since when have the two of you...sure, you'd always been nice and civil to one another, friends even, john would say. but there was something on matthews face as he skated away from you that had johns heart strings being pulled.

inbetween periods, matthew had pulled out his phone, which he thought he did sneakily, and smiled at his screen, typing out a message. john couldn't help but think he was texting you - but, no, because he had to be imagining it. there's no way that the two of you have been building and involved in a romance - in his own house, at his work, that he didn't know about.

but then, at the end of the game, in the players tunnel we're you'd usually wait for them, john couldn't help but notice your face light up when you saw his teammate, and the way you squeezed his arm, congratulating matthew on a good game: john was pretty much convinced.

later that evening, him and aryne stood in their on suite, brushing their teeth as they two of them got ready for bed. john spit out his last bit of toothpaste and turned toward his wife.

"have you noticed that matthew and y/n have been...I don't know...extra friendly?"

aryne spit out her own toothpaste and giggled.

"what's so funny?" john asks her. "am I just going crazy? is that why you're laughing?"

"no, no," aryne reassures him, "you've just now noticed that matthew and y/n have been flirting?"

and john is taken aback for a moment and suddenly, anything you and matthew have ever done together, and they way you both speak to one another, always ending up sitting next to one another, hell, even the way you looked at each other...oh. "I guess I have noticed." he says momentarily.

"good for you." aryne rubs some expensive moisturizer on her face.

"are they like...In love?" he asks with a funny look on his face.

"I'm not sure," aryne thinks, "but they are definitely having se-"

"okay! I don't need to know." john says. the two of them make their way into their bed. that makes him think back to about a month ago, when he saw you cooking the in kitchen.

"hey," john says, eyes trained on his cellphone as he walks into the kitchen, back from morning skate.

"hi," you and aryne had said in sync. his wife hovered over the stove, cooking eggs and bacon while you stood at the island, chopping fruit.

he looked up then once he heard his daughters giggle, he smiles as he watches you pass her some fruit, the baby as happy as ever getting attention from her aunt.

but then - "is that matthews shirt?"

you looked up with wide eyes because yes, it was. "oh," you look down at yourself, "yeah, I didn't even realize."

suddenly aryne piped up, "I think i mixed up the laundry. I thought it was a sleep shirt."

if john saw the exchange the two woman gave each other, he didn't say it.

you definitely knew that was his shirt, john is sure if it now. with his arms behind his head, he breathes deep. "why haven't they said anything?"

"what do you mean?"

"like...if their dating, or in love - not just hooking up. why have they kept it a secret?"

"I don't know honey," aryne rubs a hand over his chest and he closes his eyes. "they were probably scared. I mean Matthew probably didn't want you thinking that you've gone out of your way for him, letting him stay here and he repays you by banging your sister -"

"aryne!" john says and she giggled.

"and y/n - she doesn't want to upset you."

"she could never upset me." john says immediately. "If they are dating...well, Matthews a good kid. he's the best possible guy for her - I don't want her to feel like she has to hide it from me."

"you should tell her," aryne flicks off her bedside lamp, letting the room become overcome with darkness. "they're cute - we should let them do their thing."

"yeah, i'll talk to them tomorrow."

the next morning, you and matthew had been cozied up on the couch. any opportunity that the two of you had in the early morning to be cuddly while everybody else was sleeping, you and matthew took.

matthew had been whispering something into your neck, making you squirm and giggle when footsteps were heard bounding down the stairs, making you and matthew scrambled apart just as john rounded the corner.

he had a look on his face you couldn't quite figure out - he almost looked...in pain but also uncomfortable but at the same time happy.

"hey," you start in hesitation, "what's going on."

he shifts awkwardly before moving to sit on the love seat. "you guys can like...continue whatever you were doing. like cuddling or whatever."

you are sure matthews eyes are as wide as yours. "what?" you ask, your tone of voice perfectly depicts your level of shock.

"I know you guys are...doing stuff." he gestures weirdly in between your bodies.

"oh my god." you cover your face. this is like having the birds and the bees talk with your parents - expect it's with your brother and your boyfriend is also there to hear it. "doing stuff? what?" you repeat.

"listen, I'm not mad."

you look up towards john with raised brows. "you're not?" matthew says before you can.

"no, god- " john leaves forward so his elbows rest on his knees, "matthew you are the nicest guy ever. you are great with my kids, and you'd be a great...are you guys like dating or is is strictly just -"

"dating." you say loud and quickly.

"you'd be a great boyfriend, especially to my sister." john continues.

"I didn't want you to think that, I don't know, you've gone out of your way to bring me into your home, and i've repaid you by sneaking around with your sister." matthew says sheepishly. aryne was really on the nose with that one.

"I don't think that." he says immediately and you can feel matthew sigh in relief beside you.

"and y/b, I could never be mad at you. you're an adult and i'm your brother, I don't control you, nobody does. I just wish you didn't feel the need to keep it a secret."

you wanted to cry because you really loved your family. 

"I just didn't want you to treat matthew any differently."

matthew looks at you with a look of confusion. he didn't know that, he just thought you didn't want john to know - not that you were trying to protect him. "really?" he asks you.

"yeah." you whisper.

"I wouldn't of," john says. "i'll still treat you the same." john watches your face relax at his words and it fills him with a nice feeling.

"alright," john says, hitting his knees and standing up like a typical dad, "so you two can get back to cuddling or...whatever, just don't french infront of me."

matthew laughs loud beside you and your mouth drops in shock. "french? who says french. you...old man."

john laughs as he walks away, leaving you and matthew alone once more. almost immediately, matthew wraps you in a hug, pulling you down on the couch.

"this is good, right?" he asks you gently, hand gently tracing your face. his eyes are so soft that you can't help but smile.

"yeah," you say back, letting matthew kiss you gently on the lips.

the sound of four tiny feet come bounding down the stairs, making you pull apart before the kids jump onto the two of you, laughing, begging matthew to turn on Bluey before breakfast. you watch in admiration as he interacts with them, and everything feels good.

—

christmas was approaching- way too fast for you liking. this time of year was only hectic in the Tavares home - that wasn't even including the load of extra work you needed to complete for upload during the small holiday break provided by the NHL.

matthew had the 22nd off (as the team had played their last game the day before) and suggested the two of you head out to do some last minute shopping - which was a relief because in all your work stress, you've barley had time to shop for anybody besides your boyfriend - so immediately you took matthew up on the offer.

the two of you had gotten into matthews car and headed downtown to begin the much anticipated long shopping day - hoping to check off your never ending list of presents.

a few hours after your arrival, matthew had grabbed the back of your neck, directing you in the direction of a hot chocolate stand, because 'you can't christmas shop and not get a warm drink' as he claims.

matthew had pretty much gotten everything he wanted to get for the family (his and yours) as did you, which calmed you down so much compared to your hectic stressed filled past couple days.

matthew had your hand wrapped in his large one, swinging them between your bodies as you made your last walk down the strip. you both sipped your hot chocolate carefully after matthew burned his lip on his, pouting until you kissed it better (you love your big baby).

you came up upon one of your favourite market stores. they always carried to most beautiful, antique looking items and most of the time you ended up loving something in the cute shop - and this time was no exception.

you had gasped slightly, your hand squeezing matthews as a reflex. "oh my god, how amazing." you were face to face with the most beautiful winter snow globe, filled with tiny fake snowflakes and a cute little village - it was right up your alley. "oh I love it."

you could feel matthews front press against your back, hovering over your shoulder to look at the antique. "it's nice." he agrees. matthew tugged your hand, "hey, I think I see Santa if you want to go sit on his lap and ask for it for christmas."

your head snapped back at him so fast your slicked back ponytail almost wiped him in the face. "ha ha, you're so funny."

he smirked in satisfaction at his own joke and tugged you into his side, kissing your temple - ignoring the way you swatted him away, claiming he was going to mess up your makeup.

__

christmas morning

a bunch of tiny knocks on your and matthews bedroom  door makes you groan out, eyes squinting to adjust to the dark bedroom.

a moment later the door opens, revealing the kids in their christmas pyjamas: eyes full of excitement.

"wake up aunt y/n!" jace says, jumping up onto your bed. you sit up, nudging matthew as you rest against the headboard.

"matthew," axton's little voice whispers. "it's christmas."

"hey buddy," he whispers, picking up the blond boy and sitting him on the bed between the two of you.

"santa came!" Jace said excitedly.

"did he?!" you asked, "are you going to show us?"

"yeah!" the boys cheered, they had dragged matthew out of bed and downstairs quicker than you could put your robe on. aryne was waiting by the bedroom door with a cup of coffee, made the way you love it.

"good morning." she hums.

"hi," you say, taking the mug and wrapping your hands around it as the two of you descend down the stairs and into the warmly decorated family room.

"aunt y/n look at all the presents!" the boys say, practically vibrating as they resisted the urge to tear up all the wrapping paper in that very moment.

"wow!," you say with as much enthusiasm the early morning would let you, taking a seat beside matthew who immediately wraps his arm around you, bringing your body into his own. it wasn't long before you dragged a throw blanket over the two of you, cuddling into him tightly.

"alright boys, everyone's here you can start." john says, holding onto his daughter. the kids laughed loudly as they started, and you swear you've never felt excitement or happiness the way you did when wtaching your nephews open gifts.

the four of you helped all the kids open their gifts when needed, which was often because they wanted to play with every new toy they opened (which was so darn cute).

an hour or so of present opening had passed, leaving the kids to entertain themselves with their new toys from santa, while the four of you got to exchange gifts with one another.

you tore open your gift from aryne, opening the white box to reveal a demin jacket with a bunch of leaf decals on it. you knew what it was immediately. "you didn't." you pull out the jacket to look at it fully, the back displaying exactly what you thought it would: Knies 23.

"oh my god," you laughed, "did you know?" your question was directed towards your boyfriend, who held his hands up in surrender.

"my lips are sealed."  he laughed as you hit his chest playfully, letting him kiss your cheek two times quick.

you couldn't help but feel giddy inside, and you bet your bottom dollar anytime you weren't working, you'd be repping your man on your jacket for the whole world to see. "I love it, thank you honey bunny," you give your sister in law a squeeze and she hugs back just as hard.

"alright, mine next," matthew says, handing you a neatly wrapped square box. you raise your brows in suspicion and start to unwrap it. "you didn't wrap this."

you knew him too well, matthew thinks. "just open it - don't jostle it around," he scolds before laughing.

"you're insufferable," you say. you are left with a plain white box, leaving you no option but to gently open the lid and - oh my god. "matthew..." you whisper, gently taking your gift out of its protective styrofoam. "you didn't."

"what is it?" john asks, trying to peek over your shoulder as he bounced baby girl.

"oh, it's beautiful," aryne says as soon as she gets a proper look at the gift, her hand held to her chest.

matthew bought you the snow globe. "the person at the cash wrapped it for me - she insisted. she's a sweet lady," matthew says.

you knew he didn't wrap it. "yeah, beth is a sweetheart."

"of course you know her name," matthew laughs. the four of you laugh at his comment before aryne jumps up, helping one of the boys build a toy, john walking off to grab a bottle for the baby.

you're still staring at the snow globe when matthew looks down at you. he smiles involuntarily, admiring the way you looked so content and happy. "merry christmas," he whispers.

you look him in the eyes and it's just like the first time you saw him. you have the biggest crush on your boyfriend. "merry christmas."

you are so in love.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

link to playlist

[21280]

warnings for age gap, no pronouns used. sfw. toshinori's insecurities are explored a bit.

there’s something about the older pro heroes having a controversially young partner that makes them feel young again.

when it comes to toshinori yagi, he feels like a 20 year old breezing through life. scratch that, you make him feel like a dumb teenager. he stumbles over his own feet, mixes up his words, and he constantly sweats at the thought of being around you. it feels like he’s suddenly trapped inside a romcom, where he’s head over heels over his new workmate.

the day you moved into the teacher dorms was the day you were introduced to him. the great all might. the symbol of peace, and also the hero whose posters are stuck decorating the walls of your childhood room.

when you began your work as a teacher at ua, he was the first to ask you out for lunch in his office. and who are you to deny, when the muscly, steaming hot man of your dreams is leaning against his office’s doorframe, the famous, million dollar smile plastered on his face. with a small bento box in hand.

a part of him feels like he has to care for you. it’s a small gesture, one he would’ve liked to have at his early twenties. he’s just doing what anyone would do, right? there’s obviously not a part of him that is intrigued by you. no, not one bit.

and to say you’re interested in uncovering what’s behind all might’s strong front is an understatement. in your eyes, it’s clear that he’s struggling, and you’re more than willing to become the one he can rely on. though, it takes time. your patience is about to be tested well beyond its limits. so, you start off slow.

yagi might think of himself as self centered, but there has to be something going on. that's what he thinks, at least.

you fix his tie when it’s slowly slipping, and straighten the collars of his shirts. you twirl the two beautiful blond strands of hair decorating his face, and always have your hand grazing his when walking with him around campus. his desk is next to yours in the teacher’s lounge, and you always offer him your post its and stickers for him to use when grading. he’s grown so comfortable, in fact, that he takes them without asking. there’s a comfortable silence, except when you’re softly humming whatever 80s song pops in your head. he thinks he’ll faint because you enjoy the same music he did back in the day.

you’re just being you. you’ve done the same with mic, and eraser too. he has to be too full of himself for even considering the fact that you feel something for him. which brings the question, does he feel something for you? if he doesn't, then why is he spending time analyzing his every interaction with you? your expressions, actions and reactions are on loop as he tries to figure out what he feels.

is it even okay? he’s well into his fifties, and you’re still a long way from there. his morality begins to chew at him, because you’re a young spirit, and he’s already seeing himself in a grave. it’s harsh, but yagi's mind goes to the extreme. he doesn’t want to take away your youth.

but hasn’t he been selfless his whole life? it should be time for him to think for himself. he’s come to recognize that you may be sending signals, because there’s something so adoring about the way you look at him—he’s certain there’s a spark. and it's then when he realizes he's fallen. very hard.

and there’s no way for him to be straightforward about it. would it be abuse of power if the all might went and confessed everything he felt towards his younger, new-in-the-field pro hero and coworker? would you be pressured into reciprocating because of who he is?

he’s assuring himself that if you were to be interested, you’d be interested for what he once was. he was the symbol for everything: peace, hope, sex—you name it, he's been it for decades. he's sure that you're chasing the idea of him, and not what he has become.

the best way to push someone away is to show what makes you ugly, right? the next thing you know, you're calling him by his surname because he asks you to, and when it's two in the morning and both of you can't sleep...

you see him outside the dorms. sitting down, lanky arms wrapped around his legs. you knew the teaching faculty was a bit secretive with him around you at first, and this was why. when he asks if you can't sleep and you nod, he looks at you with the most melancholic expression, daring to ask a single question.

he gestures to his torso. “you want a bedtime story, kid?”

toshinori yagi talks. he talks a lot. he’s telling you of the gruesome fight five years ago, of his declining health, and his fears for the future. he talks so much, in fact that he’s asking you if you can keep a secret, and talks about how his search for a successor had come to an end when he came to ua. it’s during this moment that you realize there’s more to your attraction to him than your brain let on.

and he realizes something too. he feels comfortable with you, and you remind him of home. but what’s home to toshinori yagi? he doesn’t have a clear answer, but he knows you resemble it. you’re easy to be around, and as he would come to find later on, you’re easy to love.

yet he pushes every happy thought away, his mind clouded with doubt. you scoot closer to him, and his hand unconsciously reaches for yours. as soon as he realizes it, though, he's pulling his hand away and muttering an apology. and you insist, because you don't mind if it's him who does it. and his mind wanders.

"i really like you, yagi."

he's been broken out of his trance. he stares at you in disbelief, "you like me?"

you nod. "are you sure? you probably like the old me, like everyone else. it's just in your head, kid—"

"god fucking damn it i'm in love with you, toshinori."

and to toshinori yagi, it's hard to believe. his mouth falls agape because there is no barrier left to protect him now. you've broken every wall with a single sentence. so you continue.

"i love the way your eyes crinkle when you smile, i love how your two hair strands frame your face, i love the way you're always looking out for others, and how you go into your muscly form to cheer people on. i love your patience, and how dedicated you are when you truly love something. more than a great hero, you're a great person. you need me to go on? because i—"

"do you pity me?"

"do i need to pity you? i'm being genuine, yagi. kinda sucks to get brushed off like that, y'know?"

he stops for a moment.

"...i like you too. like—a lot. it's just hard. to process, i mean."

you look at him enamored. toshinori finally takes the first step and intertwines his fingers with yours. and for the first time in the whole night, he smiles. so wide.

"let's do this step by step, yeah? now let's get some sleep, old man. we have a class to teach tomorrow."

[dilf-docs]

Drunk In Love

eddie brock x younger!reader

summary: you don't exactly hate your job as bartender. well, sometimes, like when customers who can't take a no show up. your boyfriend decides to take matters into his hands, or better said, tentacles...

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (ofc), a bit of angst, smut, rough sex??, exhibition kink, oral (f. receiving), fingering, jealous!eddie puts on a show, venom's tongue slurping ur clit like a caprisun, reader gets harrased (is this like a norm for my eddie fics??? lmao)

word count: 3,884 words

side note: this lil' baby is based on this request. that being said, my reqs are still open! keep the suggestions up i say 🗣🔥🔥especially those with classic tropes, cause i'm a deep sucker for them jealousy fics fr most when they get possesive lolz this is me placing my input here *smoothly slides card to the front of the table* ENJOY

If you were to ask your 9 year old self what she wanted to be, she'd tell you an actress. Never a bartender, and most certainly, never the girlfriend of an alien symbiote.

Turns out, life has more on storage of what you expected, certainly. Things haven't gone in the way your kid brain had planned, and going back to the bartender thing, it's one of those things that hasn't been the way you wanted it.

And it isn't the job, really. Over the years, you've grown fond of the drinks you know like the palm of your hand and the scene that occurs behind the bar. Besides, it pays the bills, and there's something comforting in witnessing night engulf the sky, just for the sun to rise again as you're back on your apartment. You're an owl, which really is just how Eddie, your boyfriend, likes to call you with affection.

What hasn't changed and still bothers you after all this years is the people.

It's not like you're an introvert, but crowds aren't really your thing, which is quite the contradiction given the job. The problem lies not on your frequent customers or those who come looking for a good time, but on those who don't know how to take "no" as an answer: most recently, this guy, who won't leave no matter how many times you've told and showed him already.

And it's the wost kind: they don't bother for the drinks, rather the person serving them; and he's been at it for hours, not taking the hint from the one-sided conversation he's been having all this time.

"Hey" the customer speaks again, your back facing him. "So, I want something" he makes a little pause, "but it's not on the menu"

You use a little more force than necessary while cleaning the glass you're holding, "tell me what you want and I'll see what I can do"

He chuckles, and when you finally face him, he seems pleased.

"I want you"

"Too bad" you turn around again, "can't help you then".

"Playing hard to get, I see" you'd think after at least two hours being ignored, he would stop, but he only seems to still not get the cue. "It's fine, I like it this way"

You decide not to add anything, focusing on this drinks for table #2, but he keeps adding comments that drip in annoying drops until your glass of patience overflows.

"C'mon, sugar" he nudges playfully, "spare me a glance, would ya'?"

You scoff, resting your arms on the bar. "If I give you a free drink, would you let me do my job?"

Clearly a mistake, as his hands travel to touch your skin, making it prickle like it burns.

"Still don't get it? The only thing I want is you"

Eddie wanted to surprise you. After some time dating you, he thinks he deserves some credit on to how much he truly knows you; you'd argue he knows you even more than you know yourself.

He knows your small quirks, like the small frown in your lips when you feel sad. He also knows by heart your breathy shrugs, the intricacy of your blinking, the flinch you often do because you get easily scared, and also, how much you hate tuesdays, which is why he's here. Whenever he's free, he drops by, trying to make your night shift a little less difficult. You'd never voiced it out, but he sees it in the way your eyes sparkle when you catch him in the crowd, coming your way, or in the efforts he makes to keep you entertained, your lips curving up in a beautiful smile.

"We are going to see y/n!" chirps Venom in his head, and Eddie can't help but feel a little off at his amount of excitement. "Oh, don't be jealous, Eddie. She sees me as a pet! Still, I like her" he says as Eddie gets inside.

The immediate smell of the alcohol stench place hits him, making him nauseous.

"I hate this place!" Venom agrees, "we should all escape!"

"And get y/n in trouble?" He scoffs, speaking over the music. People don't hear him as he walks by, which helps, since it looks like he's speaking to himself. "Sorry, but I won't be the reason she's gonna loose this job"

"Pussy! You're no fun"

Eddie ignores him as he walks towards you. It isn't until he's almost there, that he notices you're not alone.

"Who's that?" Venom asks.

"I have no idea, buddy" he then notices the proximity, his skin immediately on fire. Not like he's a jealous guy, but never say never.

"He's close to her!" Venom shouts. No shit, thinks Eddie. "We should eat him!"

"He isn't touching her" he butts. Yet, pops the grimy thought up. "Besides, is eating people all you ever think about?" he whisper shouts.

"Yes!" Venom doesn't seem not even a bit embarrassed, "especially bad guys. Like that one"

Eddie is reasonable, he thinks. Feelings like jealousy or possesiveness aren't on his book, yet, seeing the man that doesn't leave you alone, something ugly inside of him burns.

"You judge me, but I know you want the same" he's inciting Eddie, who is angrier than ever. But he doesn't cave in, counts to ten, and breathes in and out, even if he has sped up his walking.

I'm rational. I'm rational. I'm rational.

"Liar" Venom whispers. "You want to kill him"

"Not yet" he can't let his feelings get the best of him, "I can't put y/n in danger so you get some brains. If we do a mess like the ones in Mrs. Chen's store, she'll be fired"

He's being the bigger person here. Eddie just wants you to feel proud of who he is (the lethal protector), and not like you're dating a man child. It happened once (Anne being dissapointed in him, which is worse), and he's not willing to let it happen again. So he'll be polite and politely shove him out of your sight.

At least that's what he thinks until the guy touches you.

"The fuck-"

"Now we're talking!" Venom senses the anger radiating from Eddie, and decides to fire him up, "let's get his brains!"

You're so deep in your shit you don't notice when Eddie walks towards you, his perfume invading your nostrils. In a way, it brings a bit of comfort to your situation.

"Excuse me" his gravely voice goes. Fuck, how you love the sound; you can even feel the nerves going down. It's not like you're a helpless damsel in distress, but sometimes, even if you hate it, a man is needed. Eddie is very much needed now.

"Yes?" the man turns around, and he swears he's screaming when he notices the man is still touching you.

"I'd appreciate if you did me a favor, you see, it's very simple" his tone dripping in venom (hehe), "get your hands off her. Now"

It's stupid, really, how your panties twist at the demading tone, waves of possesivenss radiating off him, considering the situation you're in.

"Why? Are you her guard or something?" he challenges.

"Boyfriend" he spats out.

That would've been enough: at least for a normal person. But some have proven to have worms for brains, like him. Because, even when you've expressed your clear discomfort and Eddie is there, the man doesn't seem the slightlest intimidated, not backing off, by not even a centimeter. All this is very stupid really, and it's testing your patience like it never has in almost three decades alive.

"Yeah?" he stoods up to Eddie, and he's even slightly taller. But Eddie and his strong arms don't back off.

"Yeah" he challenges. God, how you hate men.

"Please, don't make a mess" you beg to no one in particular, because Eddie may be a rational man, but today, all in his eyes are a fury you'd never seen before.

"For your own good, I'm giving you a chance to back off" he threats.

"And what are you gonna do?" he bumps against Eddie's smaller yet built frame, "can't do much, can you?"

The music is on, but it's like it's stopped. All the people have started to stare, and you just want earth to swallow you. The initial wave of arousal is starting to wash away, making you wonder if it's all Eddie's macho ways, Venom or both.

"Eddie, don't" you warn, but it's over: the distraction of your voice makes Eddie turn, and the guy's fist slams across his face, all the regret leaving Eddie's face.

"It's on" he says in a distorted voice.

And it's off for you.

Venom takes over Eddie, the black engulfing his body. People around gasp, and a few do recognize the so-called lethal protector of San Francisco.

"I said" now he towers over him, by various centimeters "...back off"

Punches get thrown, and if you thought he'd cower in fear, the guys tries to fight him off. Some people leave amidst the chaos, and others stay to watch it. How can you take control? Not only is he causing a show, but so is Venom, all rational thoughts flying out of the window.

"Eddie!" you plead, "stop it!"

Your voice falls deaf on his ear. Why doesn't he stop? Eddie thinks he should be scared by now, but he's still fighting. Isn't he scary enough? Isn't he strong enough? Why is he still fighting? He can't loose this fight. No, Venom can't loose this fight.

"You'll pay, scum" he growls, "nobody messes with my girl"

Oh, alright. He got you there; that was kinda hot.

When you get back to your senses, the guy is on the floor, his nose bleeding.

"Eddie, that's enough!" but he ignores you, "Venom!" you try again. Nothing, just alien and guy fighting.

"Have you still learned nothing?"

"Wait!" he shouts, terrified. Nothing like the guy from before, who couldn't take a no, "I'll stop!"

"Good" Venom growls threatening. "I hope you've learned your lesson, asshole" now on Eddie's voice.

The guy scurries away, cowering in fear.

"Alright" you clap your hands, "showtime is over"

You've had enough for today. Really, your hate for tuesdays is justified: an asshole who wouldn't leave you alone, and your boyfriend and his alien pet (derogatory; hey, you're mad!) ruining your day by trying to save it.

"Hey" Eddie's soft voice sounds from behind, "are you okay?"

You laugh, bitterly. "Oh, I don't know. Let's see: a guy harrased me and my boyfriend just fucked up my only income"

His face falls, and you feel a bit bad, yet you can't help it: your nerves are on edge, and your boss not only happens to know you but Eddie too, given all his visits. That means, he sees the cameras and goodbye to your ass, no matter how much you tried to stop it.

This job helps you pay college and your bills. You're fucked: these men's mess will drag you along. Your boss is strict, and the bar reputation will go first: it's a bar, not a brawl. You already hear their stern voice, scolding you (worse) for shit you didn't do.

You start walking away, back to your spot behind the bar. You sigh, deeply: maybe it's the last time you'll ever be there.

"Wait, y/n!" Eddie calls back. The music is going strong and the crowd has long gone, but you know there are still eyes on you. All you want is to curl in bed and cry: you're sad, mad, tired and horny. The week's just getting started: it's not fair.

"What?"

He's taken back by your dry tone; you've never been like this with him. He remembers Anne and their break up, his stomach churning in fear. "Have we fucked up?" asks Venom, but Eddie is too afraid to ask.

"I was trying to help" his voice comes out small, helpless. Funny considering who he is: alien-human symbiote and fearless reporter.

"What does help mean to you? Playing superhero?" you spit. "You'll get me in trouble, Eddie. This job is all I have, yet you seemed to care more about putting a show than me"

"It's not like that!" he argues back, "I was trying to protect you!"

"I know!" you shout, some heads turning around. "I know" you repeat, this time lower, "it's just hard to tell when it's about me, and when it was about you" you confess. Eddie feels bad when he sees your teary eyes, "I don't want you to think I'm angry that you helped me: that guy was scary, and I needed help. I'm just... it's a lot, you know? I thank you for saving me, but I can't thank you for letting your ego take the best of you" you let out a shaky breath. "I want you to know that there are consequences, Eddie, and what started as a noble act ended up hurting me too. Almost like you forgot why you did it in the first place. It was about helping me: for me- Not to, I don't know, prove something..."

He understands, knowing his emotions got the best of him.

"I'm sorry" he rests against the bar, "I know I lost control; you're right. I wanted to help you, talking my way out, like I always do. But then he touched you, and I-, I froze. I hated seeing him touching you, and some jealousy got me there too..." he's ashamed to confess but does anyway, "I don't know... I kinda did also feel a bit... bruised" you're confused, an eyebrow quirking. "Alright, fine. You want me to say it? I will! I felt dumb, you know? That a douchebag like that didn't feel intimidated by me: not first, not second. I didn't know if it was me, that I lost my... well, abilities? My charm? I don't know how to explain it, but that guy was getting on my nerves. It's like-"

"Like he's stupid, Eddie. He's a hard headed idiot who kept fighting an alien symbiote for no reason: despite the disadvantage, despite people watching him loose" you reason, "you can't find logic on something without it. I've already made my peace with it"

"Maybe he was drunk" he ponder, "or high..."

"Or just dumb" you breathe. "You know? Let's stop. I want to enjoy my last day here, definitely not talking about the guy who was harrasing me minutes ago, and also, is the reason I'll loose this job"

"Alright, I'll shut up" Eddie gives up, then "I'm sorry, by the way"

You give up too, "it's okay"

"She won't leave us for this?" Venom asks. Eddie tells you and you laugh. "No, but it's your first strike"

There's some silence, the quiet sipping and chatting of the people sitting close to you, the music now a background white noise for the chaos of your mind and feelings.

"I'm still mad, you know" you drop. He looks up at you, his brown eyes colored in a dark shadow of something dangerous.

"I can make it up to you"

You know that voice. Is he thinking...?

"No" you say hastily.

"The worst already happened..." he starts, voice dropping low.

"We live in a world where superheroes and powers exist. There is always, something worst" you reason.

"Not today, baby" he gets close to your ear, his hot breathe tickling your lobe. "What do you say?"

"Eddie" you warn, but the urge to give in is so bad. It's been a while since the last time you and Eddie were intimate: lack of time, exhaustion and other factors playing a part in cock blocking you both.

"Eddie what?" he mocks, "tell me you don't want it, and I'll stop"

What if you leave the bar unattended? What if you succumb? What if one of the stalls has two people inside, even if forbidden?

"I knew you wanted it" he gasps against your skin. His soft lips kiss along your jaw, his hair brushing your face. His smell always makes you intoxicated, and in the reduced space, the dizziness is excruciating. His hand tightens around your waist, and he looks you deep into your eyes when he says:

"I know I fucked up, baby. So let me help: you won't do anything, just me"

He slams your body against the wall of the stall, which is unhygienic and against the bar norms, but really, why do you care?

"Just wanna taste you, baby" he kisses you again, full of your flavor on his lips. Your gloss coats them in a pink sticky layer, "missed you so much"

It’s shameful for him to admit how easy he seems to fall at your feet: how much he is willing to beg for forgiveness. But he can give and not receive, not having a problem with it; it's the least he can do for you, and you deserve it.

Yet you return his kisses with full hunger, your hands digging in his cheeks, pressing on the skin while diving to his neck, nipping on his sensitive spots. His hold becomes stronger, looking at you with a need so primal it dampens your folds.

"I need you to do something with this" he motions the bottom of your uniform, "be a good girl, yeah? And take this off"

Once your tights are bare and the pants are over his shoulders, he gets to see your sticky panties on their full glory.

"Fuck..." he mutters hazily.

He tears the panties down, while his knee gets his way in the middle of your tights, parting them.

You tug at his jacket, pulling him closer to you, making his knee crash against the wall of the stall.

"If you wanna taste so bad" God, you sound so demanding and it's driving him nuts, "don't keep me waiting, pretty boy"

He hovers over you, kissing you hungrily.

"I'm sorry, won't happen again" he kneels down, breathe hot and close to your puffy folds.

"If you want to fix it, then fucking do so" your hands went to his hair as you felt his teeth lightly press into your thights, sucking and tugging when needed.

"Eddie" you whine, feeling his tongue trail, taunting you, his hands circling around your thighs, the mocking flick of his tongue putting you on edge. Your folds drip, reacting to him.

"Let me help this pretty cunt, yeah?" and there's a sudden swipe at your clit by his long tongue.

You claw your nails into his scalp; the tight grip has his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he let himself get lost in the taste of your pussy.

Long forgotten is the teasing, as Eddie lets his mouth fall open, pressing his starving mouth against your wet heat. His tongue kisses between your folds, finding your hot needy clit.

"Right there..." you let out a shaky breath, hips slowly bucking into his face.

His teeth graze softly the plushy skin of your pussy, knowing how sensitive you get.

"Eddie" you plead, "more"

He lets out something that sounds like a huh, pleasant vibrations against your core.

"Deeper" you mewl, "now"

"Let me try, Eddie" Venom's voice sounds inside his head, "I want to apologize too" he's about to argue but he adds, "Besides, you promised I was going to eat. I'm hungry"

Even in the dark of the bathroom, you can see black cover the front of Eddie's face, nesting in between your legs. You let out a yelp when his now longer muscle gets again inside your bud, a failed suppressed moan escaping your lips.

Brock sucks your clit into his mouth, lips wrapped around tight walls while his tongue swiped against the tip. He began a repetition of that, and when you let out a weak cry, he knows he's found your weak spot, sucking your labia into his mouth, making you press your back hard onto the wall, pushing until it starts to hurt.

"Eddie" you softly moan his name, fingers tugging at his hair roughly.

He doesn't pull his mouth from the feast, instead, his ministrations grow rougher. He lets go of the support he has on your thigh and wanders to your pussy, his fingers touching your labia. The trail is dangerously close to your entrance, his fingers get coated with the taste of you. Without thinking, he takes them to his mouth, pupils blown wide.

"So sweet" he praises, longue slicky tongue tasting your leak. Your body was filled by pleasure, coming to its peak when Brock presses his long middle finger into your needy cunt.

"That's it" he kisses your now trembling muscles (how long have you been standing?), sending butterflies to your chest. He's really earning that pardon, isn't he? Eddie is really making it hard to keep mad at him, and Venom isn't helping. "Cum for me, darling"

You whine as he pushes a second finger in. "Are you sounding louder in purpose, babe? Do you want them to find us and see what I'm doing to you? How just my mouth and fingers fuck you up? What a whore you are, fucking in a public restroom?"

You let out another loud whimper that barely gets muffled by the music coming from outside, defiant.

"I'm already fired" you pant, "I don't fucking care"

He feels it; he knows you too much: moving upwardward past your pubic bone, easily finding that soft sensitive spot of yours. Your folds clench around his fingers, Eddie knowing you're close. So now he's back to just being him (he's still warm on his chest for all those jealous feelings from before; no more sharing), his plushy lips around your clit while he thrusts into the wet sweet spot.

Your legs tense, and before you know it, you slam against the wall, arching your back as you shake with release, "Fuck!"

Your juices coat all his fingers, and without thinking he tastes again, licking the release in a rather whore-ish way. "Mm, Venom was right: sweet"

You try to catch your breath and come to understand what had just happened: you just fucked in the bathroom of your soon to be ex-job. Jesus.

Eddie gets closer to kiss you again, cupping your face, but his fingers are still wet. Without thinking, you take them into your mouth and lick your own release off him, mirroring his sensual lick movements from before, all while mantaining eye contact.

"You're gonna be the death of me" he confesses without thinking, his eyes swimming between something dark and soft.

You suck on them with your cheeks hollowed in. His breath hitches, "does this mean I'm forgiven?"

You laugh, throwing your name tag on the trash bin next to you.

"Yes" his mouth falls open, and before he says anything, you're cutting him with a kiss, still as hungry as in the beginning, to Eddie's surprise. Of course: your age says it all. "And you're next"

[venus-haze]

You're My Best Friend (Homelander x Reader)

Summary: Homelander was a test tube baby, raised in isolation in a cold, clinical lab. But that doesn’t inspire America, does it? Vought tasks you with creating the idyllic backstory for its hero, and what starts as a limited comic run spirals out of control when Homelander himself demands your help in making the story a reality.

Note: Gender neutral reader, but no other descriptors are used. Based on a request by @crash-and-cure as well as a bastardization of one of the sweetest love songs ever written (sorry, John Deacon!) This got kinda meta? Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Emotional manipulation, I guess some gaslighting on Homelander’s part? Do not interact if you’re under 18.

When Vought hired you to create their long-awaited Homelander origin comic series, you were thrilled—until they gave you so little information about his childhood to work with, you weren’t even sure you could come up with one comic, let alone the ten they requested. The details about his childhood were minimal, not even a full printed page—a loving mom and dad, played baseball, did well in school, strong sense of justice from a young age, his friends called him “Johnny.” Your requests to meet with Homelander so you could get some stories from the man himself were constantly denied.

You almost considered dropping the project, until you decided to throw caution to the wind and pull from your own childhood and set it in good ol’ generic suburbia. Some of the storylines were based on your own experiences or things that had happened to people you’d grown up with, though you changed enough names and details to not link it to anyone in particular. Except yourself, of course. Using a pseudonym professionally meant you felt no need to change your own name in the comics. Sure, making your cooler fictionalized self Homelander’s childhood best friend was a bit self-indulgent, but no one would know, really.

To your relief, the editors at Vought loved your ideas, making minor changes before bringing the storylines to their comic artists to bring it to life. The result was Finding Homelander: A Boy’s Journey To Be a Hero. The issues flew off shelves when they were first released, ironically praised for their relatability and authenticity. Vought extended your contract, asking you to produce the cartoon adaptation and another ten issues.

Still, in all of that, you’d never met Homelander. A representative from Vought emailed you to let you know to tune in to his interview on a talk show one day, saying that he’d be talking more about the cartoon project on it. You recognized the host, Tracey, always chipper and having some extravagant giveaway for her audience members. Daytime TV was never your thing, though.

“I think what resonates with so many people is how relatable your childhood is,” Tracey said, holding up a copy of Finding Homelander issue #3, where he saved ‘you’ from getting hit in the face with a baseball at one of his games, catching it with ease. It’d been the happy ending to a short storyline of him struggling to find his place on the team and you encouraging him to not give up. “You and Y/N were pretty close, do you still keep in touch?”

“You know, Tracey, not as much as I’d like, unfortunately. Adulthood can be so busy, you need to cherish those childhood memories,” Homelander said. “I did give them a call when the comics first came out, and wow, the laughs we had over those old antics of ours. Talk about a walk down memory lane!”

You guessed the bullshitting was all part of the promotional circuit for Homelander. Knowing this childhood of his was your own fabrication, you couldn’t help but wonder what else about him was fake. Maybe he wanted to maintain his privacy, you could certainly understand that. You couldn’t shake the voice in the back of your mind that said it wasn’t so simple, that the narrative Vought pushed was a cover to hide something in Homelander’s past.

“Now, I’ve heard rumors of a cartoon show based on the comics in the making, is this true?”

“It is! I’m excited for this project, getting back to my ‘roots’ so to speak. I’ll be voicing myself, of course, but it’s funny you’d bring up Y/N, because they’ve agreed to voice themself, too.”

“How fun!” Tracey exclaimed over the roar of the talk show crowd’s applause and cheers. “I guess this is the hopeless romantic in me, but I hope this reconnection leads to something a little more. I’m just a sucker for childhood sweethearts!” 

Homelander laughed along with the host’s giggles, “Well, you never know.”

You balked at the television, mouth agape. Surely he couldn’t be talking about you. ‘Y/N’ could be anyone with your same features. Vought had probably hired a professional voice actor for the role and were pushing the authenticity angle. The whole situation felt odd. 

When you checked your work email again on your phone, you nearly dropped it on the floor. 

SUBJECT: Meeting with Homelander This Week

The email contained a list of days and times throughout the week wherein Homelander would be free, apparently wanting to meet you to thank you for the success of the comic series and discuss upcoming work. Yeah. That last part you sure as hell wanted to discuss too. You responded with the soonest time available, in a meeting room in Vought Tower the following evening. As soon as you hit ‘send’, you wondered what exactly you were getting yourself into.

Anticipation filled your gut as you went about your day leading up to meeting the supe himself. What would he be like, really be like? Was there even a version of Homelander that wasn’t hopelessly manufactured for the masses? You knew then that his upbringing was a lie, and thus stood the probability that so much else was, too. 

When you stepped into that meeting room, you hadn’t been expecting his face to light up at the sight of you. 

“Homelander, hi, it’s great to—“

“No need to be so formal, Y/N! You can call me Johnny, just like old times,” he said cheerfully, in on a joke you clearly hadn’t been aware of.

“Sorry, Johnny,” you said, playing along. “It’s great to see you again.”

He pulled you in for an unexpected hug that you returned. “Figured we should catch up before things really start getting crazy, don’t you think?”

You nodded, your nose brushing against him as you did so. Just as your lips parted to offer an apology, he smiled, shooing away the assistant who’d accompanied him out of the room. 

He sat down, motioning for you to do the same.

“Gotta say, I’m a fan of your work,” he said.

“Thank you,” you said. “I’m not sure I understand exactly what’s going on, though.”

“What’s there to understand? I’m not allowed to know more about my best friend, our lives together growing up?”

“How did you know it was me?”

“Wasn’t hard for me to put two and two together, but considering everyone else around here has their head up their asses, they have no idea,” he said, before lowering his voice conspiratorially and giving you a charming smile. “I haven’t told anyone. What’s a secret between friends?”

You nodded, overwhelmed by the intensity of his attention on you. “What do you want to know?”

He sighed, resting his head on his hand. “Everything.”

So you told him. Not quite everything, of course, but enough to abate his curiosity. At least for the time being. His interviews were sharper, more specific with details rather than rattling off whatever had been in the comics. You watched in shock as convincing photos of his Little League days were posted to his social media accounts, anecdotes provided by his increasingly frequent conversations–or more like interrogation sessions–with you, but in his style, of course. It was almost scary what the graphic design team at Vought could accomplish, not that you’d ever know how, exactly, as they were all under the same strict NDA that you were.

He started spending more time with you, too, and after a while, it did seem like you were old friends. Part of you flinched whenever you called him Johnny, because Johnny wasn’t even real, but with your complacency, this fabrication was slowly morphing into a strikingly tangible memory. With each conversation, he drew you deeper into the world you’d been paid to create for him until you found yourself slipping up.

You’d been showing him a goofy stuffed monkey on your desk, a cute little thing with big sparkling eyes. A prize for getting two out of three at the ring toss. Probably spent more money winning it than it was actually worth, but it was about the effort, the memories made.

“You remember, don’t you? You won it for me at the county fair,” you said without thinking.

He laughed in agreement, as if he actually had. Except he hadn’t. Your high school boyfriend won it for you a week before graduation. Sensing the mood shift, he set down your prize and looked at you with the same intensity he had when you first met.

“It’s been a while since we were there, huh?” he said. “Why don’t we go back?”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Go where?”

“Home.”

With a strong arm around your waist, he took off for your hometown. You could hardly tell which way was up or down, he was flying so high, but he didn’t seem to mind the way you clung to him at all. When he finally landed, you recognized the community baseball field where all of his fictional games were set. 

“Geez, it’s like nothing’s changed,” he said cheerfully.

You looked at him in disbelief. How long was he going to expect you to go along with it? Or maybe the question you should have been asking was, how long were you going to enable him? The end wasn’t anywhere in sight as he took your hand, and you walked him through your childhood, further enmeshing him in it until you arrived at the house you grew up in. 

The middle of the day, no one was home, and so you let yourselves in like you owned the place. Suddenly, the house seemed too small for a man like Homelander to occupy, but he was engrossed in the details of it. He scanned the kitchen, no doubt inspecting the contents of the fridge and cabinets with his x-ray vision. Moving onto the living room, he stared at photos on the wall, the magazines and DVDs that were strewn on the coffee table, giving away your parents’ taste in entertainment.

“Which one was your room again?” he asked.

You swore you could feel his breath on the back of your neck as you wordlessly led him to your room. Each step down the hall felt dangerous, as if you were about to walk into a trap. Face-to-face with the closed door, you opened it, standing aside while Homelander looked around, from what you had hanging on the walls to the knick-knacks you’d left behind.

An uncomfortable tension settled over the room when Homelander closed the door of your childhood bedroom. An odd blend of hurt and amusement spread across his face as he observed the way you were eyeing him, body ready to fruitlessly run from him the way a rabbit would a hawk.

“C’mon, after how long we’ve been friends, I would never hurt you,” he said, as if reading your mind. “We’ve been through so much together. I mean, we were each other’s first kiss.”

You froze. Issue #9. That was something Vought’s editors had added, claiming a romance angle would make the series appeal to the younger female demographic. You hadn’t thought much of it at the time.

He slyly backed you into the wall, leaning over you as you slinked down the slightest bit.

“Show me how we did it,” he whispered, his hand caressing your cheek. “So clumsy and nervous, I can even feel you…quivering.”

“Homelander, I don’t know what you’re—“

He tsked. “Y/N.”

You let out a shaky breath, “Johnny—“

He hummed in satisfaction. “It’s alright. I know it’s been a while.”

You let him kiss you, sweetly in a way that put your actual first kiss to shame. His lips were soft against yours, his tender movements intentional as he cradled your face, pulling you the slightest bit closer to him when you kissed him back. 

A sense of familiarity settled over you, warm and comforting like pulling a blanket out of the dryer on a chilly evening. Every time it seemed like you were beginning to overthink the situation with Homelander, he drew you back in with the kiss, a more than effective distraction until you pulled away with a dazed smile on your face.

[joelscruff]

feelings on fire (joel miller x f!reader) 18+ PART ONE

"trying to play it coy, trying to make it disappear"

⚠️ new series alert! ⚠️ and also my 1k follower celebration!!! (altho it might as well be the 2k celebration now considering how fast my following has grown. thank you ;-;) i polled my followers a little while ago to choose between 3 different fic premises and this one was the winner! it was originally meant to be a stand alone but i'm actually more interested in making it a brand new series, so i hope you guys enjoy! i'm not exactly sure how many parts this will be yet, i'll let you know when i do. title and lyrics are from 'bad liar' by selena gomez.

summary: you're back from college for the summer, staying with your devout catholic parents in your childhood home while they order you around and try to keep authority over you. as an act of rebellion you ask your new neighbor mr. miller to teach you how to play guitar, but it turns out there's a lot more he wants to teach you. (no outbreak, no use of y/n) rating: 18+ explicit (minors, do not interact) warnings: (for this fic in general) age difference (reader is in her 20s, joel in his 50s), innocent/inexperienced reader, dirty old man joel, corruption (but it's consensual), praise kink, dirty talk, general smut, mentions of religion (reader's family are very catholic) -- (for this chapter) wet dreams, mentions of masturbation. word count: 5k ao3

The sun is warm and pleasant on your bare skin as you lay out in the freshly mown grass of your backyard, absorbing the heat and smiling languidly despite the humidity. You're grateful for your family's wealth on days like today, knowing that at any moment you could take a few steps and dive headfirst into the cool water of your pool, fresh and inviting. It's been about a month since you returned and you've spent almost every day outside among the green grass, the chlorinated water, the burning Texas sun. It's been heaven.

The backdoor suddenly swings open and your father's voice booms out into the backyard, "Family meeting," he states, loud and serious, "Five minutes."

Or hell.

With a groan you slowly sit up, hands digging into the thin towel laid out beneath you. You know better than to ignore an order like that. Being back from college for the summer has certainly had it's perks; no annoying roommates, no loud parties, a large backyard and pool to yourself, but having to deal with your parents again certainly isn't one of them. You'd thought coming back after three years might have softened them a bit, lowered their guard, made them less strict. Instead, it's almost had the opposite effect.

You slide into your flip flops and walk begrudgingly inside the house, making note of your mother standing anxiously by the stove with her arms crossed. What's the issue now? At least once a week your father calls these "family meetings", which always pertain to you and only you, seeing as you're their only child. Last week they'd spent half an hour berating you about forgetting to put the garbage out, the week before they'd tried to explain the importance of an early bed time to you, like you were seven.

You're a grown woman, a full fledged adult. Sure, you're only twenty one, you're unemployed, you're currently in the process of obtaining an arts degree that probably won't secure you anything tangible in the real world, but you're an adult nonetheless. You only have one year left of school before you can leave all this behind and start fresh somewhere else. You'd thought coming back home for one more summer would bring nostalgia and happiness, a few months of normality before life exploded in front of you.

Turns out your parents had pictured something different.

Your father gestures toward the kitchen table, urging for you to sit. You hate when they do this, make you feel small and childish while they both stand above you and reiterate rules they've had your whole life, rules that apparently you'll never grow out of. You wonder what rule you've broken now.

"We've noticed that you barely leave the house," your father begins, voice deep and authoritative, "We were under the impression that when you came home you'd be spending time with old friends, doing some volunteering again."

"Going to church," your mother adds beside him, a frown permanently etched on her face, "You've only gone twice since you've been here."

Call the cops, you think to yourself, forcibly holding back an eyeroll. Ironically your father is a police officer, and you highly doubt he'd ever come if you called.

"Instead, you just spend all your time in that backyard," he continues, nodding along with your mother, "We didn't invite you back to simply laze around all summer, there have been clear expectations you're not meeting."

You take a deep breath, feeling a hint of anger and stubbornness burning in the pit of your stomach. You shove it down, back to that secret hiding place you've cultivated throughout all these years of having to deal with them.

"I'm sorry, dad," you say, trying to sound as earnest as possible as you look to him and then your mother, "Sorry, mom."

"Sorry doesn't cut it, we need to see action," your father replies quickly, brow furrowed, "No more lounging around in the backyard on weekdays, that's a weekend activity from now on, we clear?"

You nod, "Clear."

"We want you to get involved in something," your mom takes a step forward, places her hand awkwardly on your shoulder, "Why don't you call Bethany? She's always looking for more helpers at Sunday School, or maybe Alice? I hear she's been volunteering at the soup kitchen for the summer."

You haven't spoken to either Bethany or Alice since you left for university three years ago. The thought of calling them, let alone having to work with them in either setting, makes you feel ill. You nod again, pretending to agree.

"That sounds good, I'll call them tomorrow morning," Both of your parents smile, appeased, "I think I'll go for a walk now, if that's okay. Clear my head, think about things I can do to improve."

"That's the spirit," your dad says, wrapping an arm around your mother, "Remember, be back before dinner or the door will be locked."

"I know," you nod, forcing a smile, "I won't forget."

--

Well, that's it, then. You'll have to leave.

It sounds dramatic to say that your parents telling you to get off your ass is enough to send you packing, but it goes so much deeper than that. You've spent your entire life doing everything these people say, nodding and smiling when you're meant to, apologizing for everything, doing anything you can to appease and impress them. You'd spent your high school years in youth choir, church group, organizing fundraisers, studying your ass off, tutoring, joining as many extracurriculars as possible until you had no free time. And even then, nothing ever seemed to be enough for them.

When you'd left for college they'd both cried at the airport, held you in their arms and told you with sincerity that they'd miss you so much. Your mother had kissed your face and held your hands and your father had hugged you for the first time since you were eleven years old. And because of their sudden burst of emotions, of affection, you'd actually missed them once you left. You remember you'd cried on the plane, scrolling through pictures of them on your phone until the battery died, thinking to yourself that maybe they weren't the horrible, authoritarian people you thought they were.

They called you once a week while you were at college, asking for updates, telling you they missed you, giving you neighborhood gossip that made you laugh and feel nostalgic for home. Being away from them, it was like they suddenly became two entirely new people, bonded together by their suddenly empty nest and seemingly trying to do right by you now, even if it felt a little too late. You'd thought about coming home a few times for a visit, but the memories that triggered the anger in the pit of your stomach kept you from doing so. You'd kept them at arm's length until you felt ready to come back.

And now you're back, and nothing has changed. They're the same people they always were, expecting too much of you, thinking they can control you, never quite believing that you're trying your best. You'd told them before you came that you just wanted to relax this summer, spend some time at home, maybe meet up with some old friends - keyword being maybe - and they'd seemed totally on board with the idea. There had been no mentions of keeping busy, no mentions of Sunday School or soup kitchens or rules. Then you'd arrived and realized how stupid you'd been to believe that they could ever change.

Your entire life you've been their perfect girl, their A+ student who volunteered and read bible verses and tutored the neighborhood kids, sacrificed your happiness more times than you can count for the sake of keeping them satisfied. But that's the thing: they're not satisfied, and they never will be.

Your flip flops smack against the concrete of your suburban street, sun beginning to set in the distance as you think about how exactly you're going to escape this hell. Yeah, you could just walk out the front door without a word, but it's not like you have anywhere to go or the money to do it. You have your plane ticket for your return flight back to school, but it's not 'til September and it's under your father's name. Your family might be wealthy but none of that wealth has ever gone directly into your pocket, and you doubt it ever will if you just bail on them in the middle of the night with no warning.

Your thoughts scatter when you hear someone call out your name nearby. Your head swivels and you see one of your neighbors, Mrs. Lillard, waving from her front porch. You wave back, give her a small smile.

"How's college treatin' ya?" she calls to you, taking a sip from a bottle of beer, "Got a boyfriend?"

Your cheeks warm immediately and shake your head, "Not yet!" you call back.

"I bet you're battin' 'em all away," her voice is slurred and you're sure that's probably not her first beer of the day, "Nobody's good enough for ya, huh?"

"I guess," you say awkwardly, continuing to walk and hoping she won't ask you to join her for a beer, "How's your husband?"

"Pain in my ass," she responds with a grunt and takes another swig, "Bet you can't wait to have your own white picket fence, perfect as you are."

Her words make you uncomfortable but you just give her your signature fake laugh and flip your hair, waving again, "Bye, Mrs. Lillard."

Your face falls as soon as you turn around, anger burning again. You've spent so much of your life being the picture perfect little suburban girl, doing everything your parents say, saying your prayers and reading to the elderly, killing yourself to get straight A's and only speaking when spoken to. Your reputation is widely known around the neighborhood; the sweet little girl, the pure and innocent God fearing angel. You've portrayed yourself as that girl for so long that you almost don't know which part of you is real anymore.

You keep walking down the street, eyeing the sunset as you go and wondering what would happen if you just didn't go back home tonight. As your father had said, he locks the door every night after dinner; you don't have a key, you've never had a key. You're only allowed into your house on the basis of trust and good merit. If you just refused to go back tonight, how would they react? The thought of doing something like that sends a warm flush of rebellion across your skin, eyes bright with intrigue. But where would you go?

You turn the corner and your nose is suddenly hit with the delectable scent of a barbecue, smokey and delicious. You slow a bit, closing your eyes and breathing in the warm air, stomach growling. You suddenly realize that if you don't go home tonight you'll also miss dinner. Another rule broken. You keep walking, trying to follow the scent like some kind of bloodhound. Maybe you know whoever's cooking and they'll invite you to eat with them.

A few houses down you start to hear the sound of music. There must be a party going on, a birthday or some other special occasion. It's only as you get closer to the sound that you realize it's not being played from a speaker or stereo, but from someone's front porch; a real guitar, live and acoustic.

You approach the house in question and see a man sitting on his front step, guitar in hand as he strums a steady tune. He's looking down, watching his fingers, monitoring his movements, but you see dark brown curls with hints of grey peppered throughout, a stubbled jaw line and curved nose. You slow your speed, furrowing your brow as you try to place him. You're not sure you've ever seen him before.

His music is calm and inviting, a plucky sounding tune that seems vaguely familiar. You're suddenly filled with intrigue, trying to place the song and slowing to a complete stop in front of the house without meaning to. You watch the man's callused fingers pick away at the strings, fast and professional, like he's been doing this for years. He probably has.

You're still trying to place the song, biting your lip and swiping through songs in your mind like an invisible rolodex. Johnny Cash? Bob Dylan? It sounds like one of those songs your parents would forbid you to listen to as a kid, the ones with devil worship in their lyrics, sung by bad men who didn't believe in God. You'd always questioned this logic, wondered how songs about living out in the country or falling in love could be inherently against your religion. They didn't even listen to it, just blindly told you it was against the rules.

Suddenly the man stops playing and you realize the song has come to an end. He looks up then, notices you standing there at the end of his walk with your furrowed brow and flip flops. His eyes are brown, expression startled at first but then fading into something softer as he gives you a small smile.

"Been there long?" he asks, voice crackling slightly, like he hasn't spoken much today.

You shake your head quickly, "I'm sorry, I heard you playing and I-"

"S'alright," he replies strumming his guitar absentmindedly and giving you a shrug, "I don't mind an audience."

He's southern, definitely a Texan, but you're sure you've never met him before. His face and voice are unfamiliar to you, but certainly not unwelcome. He's older, probably in his 40s or even 50s, but he's handsome and slightly boyish in a way despite his greying hair and freckled skin. He reminds you of one of those men on album covers your father had slammed down one day in the record store when you were nine, yelled at you in front of everyone that the men who made that music were filthy sinners. It hadn't stopped you from listening to them, though, curiosity getting the better of you.

Is that who you're looking at now? A filthy sinner?

"You okay?" he asks slowly, tilting his head. You realize you're just staring at him, gathering your thoughts.

You shake your head again quickly, feeling yourself blush under his gaze, "Sorry," you repeat, "I'm uh, I was just passing by and I heard you playing that song. It sounded really familiar."

He gives you a crooked smile and a nod, "Tangled Up in Blue, Bob Dylan."

"I knew it was Bob Dylan," you say, a satisfied smile spreading across your face. That song was from one of the albums you'd listened to in secret, one of the only times you'd had to delete your browser history. You feel pride swell in your chest at the smile you elicit from the man in response, like he's recognizing a fellow music lover.

"Good ear," he continues to lightly pluck at the strings of his guitar, "You play?"

"Um, not really." It's a half truth but mainly a lie, you've never played in your life. You feel slightly disappointed in yourself and you're not sure why; it's not like you've ever felt any kind of urge to learn, especially considering your parents would've made sure you only learned appropriate songs. When would you have even found the time between all your extracurriculars?

"Well, it ain't difficult," he starts playing the song again, slower this time, "Pretty repetitive chord progression, room for some adlibbin' here and there once you get the hang of it."

You nod like you understand what he's talking about, suddenly lost in the way his fingers pull at the strings, make the music come to life out of nothing. His hands are big, fingers long and thick as they curve back and forth, up and down. It's hypnotic to watch. He stops again and looks up, catches you staring.

"How old are you?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

You swallow, unsure what exactly the right answer is. Part of you wants to lie, tell him you're older than you actually are so he doesn't just see you as some bright eyed kid. This is the first person you've encountered since coming back who doesn't know who you are, doesn't know about your reputation. You could tell him anything, be anyone, and he'd take it at face value.

"I'm twenty five," you lie, but it sounds unnatural in your mouth.

He looks you up and down, eyes raking your body in a way you're unfamiliar with. Like a man. Like the way your roommates back in college get looked at, sensually and flirtatiously, being eyed up by drunk guys at the bar who only have one thing on their mind. You feel your heart begin to thrum quicker in your chest; is that really how this man is looking at you? This grown man, not a high school crush or a college fratboy, a real man?

"Sweetheart, we both know that's a lie," he says with a chuckle, eyes coming back to rest on your face, "I'd guess twenty."

You make a face, "I'm twenty one, actually."

He laughs again, putting his hands up in surrender, "My bad, twenty one."

You watch as he starts to strum once again, something new and unfamiliar. You listen for a few moments, eyes trained back on his fingers, watching him play.

"You wanna come in for a bit?" he asks, voice nonchalant, like he's asking you something completely casual.

And maybe he is, but the words make your eyes widen, your breath catching in your throat. The way he'd looked at you just then, laughed at your words, wanted to know your age... now he's inviting you into his house? You've never actually been flirted with before, not when it mattered, and you're not entirely sure if that's what's happening. But it feels like it, even though you can't imagine how someone like him could see anything sexy about a girl like you.

"...Why?" you ask quietly.

He looks up at you with another smile, still plucking the strings, "If you need to ask then maybe I read you wrong," he chuckles again, eyes trailing down your legs and taking in your short dress, the way it stops at your knees, "Now that I really look at you, maybe I'm talkin' to a good Christian girl."

"You're not," you say it too quickly, "I mean, I'm not. I'm not a good Christian girl."

"No?" he smirks, "Don't have a good southern daddy waitin' for you to come home? Momma waitin' with a pie in the oven?" he's not being serious but you feel your skin flush at the accuracy of his words.

"Maybe," you mutter, hand going down to touch your dress nervously, "But maybe I don't wanna go home."

He nods and stops plucking, licking his lips and thinking to himself. You have to admit, there's something about him that draws you to him, something masculine and new. He's much, much older than you but not in a way that creeps you out or makes you want to run away. You find yourself hoping he'll ask you to come inside again so this time you can give him the right answer, the one he wants to hear.

"You probably should," he finally says, then stands up on his porch steps and slips his guitar onto his back. The strap digs into his broad shoulders, accentuating his size as he suddenly towers over you on the step.

"Sh-should what?" you ask breathlessly, and you wonder if he can tell your heart race has picked up, see the thumping of your pulse in your exposed neck.

"Go back home," he says with a shrug, "I mean, if they're waitin' for you..."

"They're not," you say it with firm finality, shaking your head, "I'm twenty one, I do what I like."

He walks down the steps then, getting closer and closer to you until he's suddenly standing directly in front of you. His eyes cast downward, assessing your expression; you swear he looks at your lips and licks his own again.

"So would you like to come inside?" he asks again, peering down at you with a dark sense of desire that makes you swallow roughly, feel a light and steady thrum between your legs, "Let me teach you how to play that song?"

Here's your chance. Just say yes.

"N-no," you gasp, taking a step back from him, "Um, n-not today."

He smirks, almost like he knew that would be your response. He hitches his guitar up his shoulder and gives you one last smile before turning around and walking back up his steps.

"Well, I'm here if you change your mind," he calls back to you, reaching for the doorknob on his front door and peering at you with another side glance, still assessing you, "Would love to teach a pretty thing like you how to use her fingers."

You feel your lips part in surprise, an unfamiliar tingling sensation flooding your body as he gives you a wink and walks into his house, shutting the door behind him. You've still got that steady throbbing feeling in your underwear, something you've only felt a handful of times. You know what it is, you're not completely clueless, but you can't remember the last time it happened.

You take another step back slowly, heart still pounding in your chest as you stare at his closed door. Then you turn on your heel and speed walk back the way you came, flip flops slapping against the ground aggressively. You revel in the way your thighs rub together as you walk, soothing that ache.

Any thoughts of not going home have gone from your mind. You need to ask your parents who this man is. As soon as possible.

-

You get home right before dinner, giving yourself just enough time to formulate exactly how to ask your parents about the man with the guitar. You're slightly afraid that you might seem too eager, too curious, and that they'll see right through you; you can't imagine how they'd react to knowing their perfect little girl is getting butterflies over a middle aged man.

But that's what you have: butterflies. In your tummy, all over your skin, between your legs. Being talked to the way he did, being looked at the way he did, it's making you feel hot all over, itchy and uncomfortable but in a good way.

The last time you felt this way was during your first week of college, at a party you'd gone to with your roommate. You'd seen him across the room, tall and blonde, watched as he licked his lips and looked you up and down. He was gorgeous, an angel you were convinced God had placed at this party just for you. You felt that tingle between your legs, swallowed down the nervous lump in your throat and imagined what it would be like to be kissed by him.

Then he'd approached and you realized he'd been looking at your roommate the entire time.

Your mother is just beginning to plate the meal when you slip into the kitchen, taking a seat at the table beside your father. She serves you both with a smile and sits, then extends her hands to both of you.

"Bless us, O Lord, for these, Thy gifts," she begins quietly, and you quickly hang your head and close your eyes as she continues, "which we are about to receive from Thy bounty. Through Christ, our Lord. Amen."

"Amen," you and your dad echo, then begin your meal. Just the same as always.

"How was your walk?" your father asks.

Here goes nothing.

"It was nice," you say, nodding thoughtfully to yourself and hoping you sound nonchalant, "I said hi to Mrs. Lillard."

"We've been praying for her," your mom interjects immediately, "She's an alcoholic, you know."

Your mom stays on top of all the neighborhood gossip, part of the reason you feel she might know something about the mysterious man. With a nod of your head you continue, "And then I saw someone else, a man playing guitar on his front porch, but I've never seen him before."

"Oh, him" your mom rolls her eyes, "Mr. Miller. Piece of work."

Bingo.

Your eyebrows raise, intrigued, "How so?"

"Kindness, dear," your father says with a disapproving nod to your mother, "He's done nothing to us."

She sighs and shakes her head, "You're right, I'm sorry."

The conversation is definitely going somewhere but it's already taking a turn into dangerous territory; you're not one to question, to interfere or interject. Pressing them further might make them suspicious, but you have to know.

"What did he do?" you ask, trying your best to sound casual, "If you don't mind me asking?"

Your mother is about to speak but your father gives her a look, almost a warning. She closes her mouth and sits back in her chair, waiting for him to answer you instead.

"He didn't do anything," your father explains, "Your mother invited him for dinner and he declined, that's all."

"It's the way he declined," your mother sits forward again, voice curt and irritated, "He was very rude."

"Rude?" You can tell your mom wants to talk about it, dredge up something she hasn't been able to discuss for a while; you're surprised she hadn't already told you over the phone while you were at college.

"This isn't appropriate conversation for the dinner table," your father says sternly, and you're not sure if he's talking more-so to you or your mother, "End of discussion." As usual your mother folds in on herself, picking up her fork and starting to eat again.

"Your father's right," she says, though you know she doesn't really believe that, "Let's just eat."

You wonder what the man - Mr. Miller - could have said to make your mother react this way. It's not unusual for her to get stiff and bothered by people - it's pretty easy to push her buttons, actually, but the list of things that offend her is long and detailed. He could have said pretty much anything to set her off. The specifics are lost on you.

You resign yourself to defeat and eat your dinner, sincerely glad that the tingling sensations in your body have subsided. You do not need to be feeling like that with your parents in the room.

-

You dream about him.

It's muddled and confusing, taking place simultaneously back at college and in your childhood bedroom, but he's there. In both places, somehow. You're back at that first week of college party, but instead of the blonde boy it's him standing across the room, eyeing you up and down. But this time he doesn't go for your roommate, he walks over to you and looks deeply into your eyes, gives you that delicious smirk and brings his hands down to touch your waist. He's so big compared to you, so much older. He pulls you in with a strong grasp and holds you to his broad chest, runs his hands down your back.

Then you're both transported from the college party to your parent's house. You're on your bed, sitting next to him atop the covers and watching him play guitar. You watch his fingers, long and thick, hypnotizing you with their movements. He stops playing and brings one to your chin, tilts your head up to look into your eyes again.

"You're not a good Christian girl," he whispers in that southern drawl, breath ghosting across your face, inching closer and closer, "You're all mine, aren't you?"

You wake up with a start and immediately feel the dampness in your underwear, the butterflies back again with a vengeance as your pussy throbs and pulses. You've never felt anything like this before, grasping your chest and reaching for your bedside lamp in the darkness. You sit there in bed for a few moments, catching your breath and waiting for the feelings to vanish again, for your aching core to stop reminding you that it's never been touched, not once, even though you know it's absolutely begging for it.

With shaky hands you reach down and run a finger through your wet folds, shivering at the soft touch. You've never masturbated before, never had sex or anything else you've learned about from your friends at college. They'd looked at you with disbelief when you'd told them you'd never even had an orgasm; one of them had gone so far as to ask if she could give you one.

"No," you'd said curtly, "No thank you."

Now you sit on your childhood bed with your legs open and a finger pressed lightly against you within your underwear. You're not even sure what to do, where exactly to touch, how to bring yourself to completion. You're twenty one years old but you've spent your entire life being the good, pure, God fearing girl waiting for marriage like her parents taught her.

"Enough," you whisper into the darkness, "I'm done waiting."

You yank your finger out of your panties and lay back on the bed, switching off the lamp and closing your eyes again. You've already decided before you drift off that you'll be paying Mr. Miller another visit tomorrow, as soon as possible.

He told you he wanted to teach you how to use your fingers; you intend to make sure he does.

[erospandemos]

Some things never change

NewJeans Danielle x Reader

Where Danielle tries everything in her power to make you understand her feelings

Beta-reader: @leafostuff

You had known Danielle Marsh all your life, from when she was just a little kid to now that she's a fully grown adult, although her height kind of stopped halfway. You met her in the first days of elementary school. She must have looked weak to the other kids with her two missing teeth, thin legs, and pale complex, so a group of rascals started messing with her.

They would call her all sorts of names with their limited word knowledge, mocking her with gestures and weird sounds. They'd also push her around or make her trip and fall. Even though their mind was still limited, they already had a knack for bullying.

You happened to be around her when you witnessed one of those scenes. All it took was a slap and a threat and the kids fled away. It was just a normal thing for you, as fights were very common at that age but for Danielle, you were her saviour.

"Are you okay?" you asked her worryingly.

Amidst her sniffling, Danielle managed to reply, "Those bullies were teasing me. But you made them go away, so thank you."

You felt a bit bad about her. Her eyes were so red from crying and she kept rubbing her eyelids to dry those endless tears. "Don't worry Danielle. They will never tease you again. I'll always be here for you," you reassured her, not knowing what kind of promise you were making.

What followed were days, weeks, and months of annoyance. Danielle followed you everywhere you went, pestering you from the morning to the afternoon—always talking, always joking, always asking.

"Thank you for helping me!" she told you. "Jinyoung hasn't been mean to me anymore! I love you!"

You were annoyed. You let her talk and kept walking, "He was just being an ass. It's nothing special."

She began to be your shadow, a silent companion seeking solace. A girl looking for a friend, or at least that is what you and she thought. There was already something present in her heart but you just didn't know it yet. But kids learned quickly.

It was a random day in April when she made her first move.

"My parents taught me that I should hug the ones I love. Can I hug you?" Danielle asked you, her eyes earnest and pleading.

You were caught off guard but still nodded hesitantly. You opened your arms and she stopped closer, embracing you tightly. She found comfort in your warmth and kept you there close to her. You didn't know why she did that but you liked it too.

Then a couple of months later, you were invited to her house. You and her parents got to know each other and figured it would be a good occasion for you two to bond together. At her house, there was a very nice illustrated book for children. The kind to have small but enormous sentences. Her eyes were sparkling with excitement when she brought it out from her desk to show it to you.

"It's a story about a prince who married the princess he saved. Don't you think that it's so... cool?" She said, her eyes wondering between dreams and fantasies.

"Yeah, I guess," you replied. You didn't fully grasp the implication of the tale. You just liked the drawings.

"You saved me from the bullies, just like the prince. Maybe... maybe we could get married someday?" Danielle confessed, blushing.

You chuckled nervously, still oblivious and clueless.

Things also got more complicated when she caught you talking with a girl from your class.

"Who's she?" Danielle asked, laced with jealousy.

"Oh, this is my friend from the class, Seo-yeon," you introduced her, unaware of her stern demeanor.

"Well, she better not try to steal you away from me!" she declared, pouting and crossing her arms.

You laughed nervously again, not understanding what she was trying to say, and apologized the poor Seo-yeon who was receiving the possessive gave from Danielle.

That was more than ten years ago. But now that you were both grown up, things didn't change at all.

You're reading the book you've been saving up for weeks, finally free from the exam season of college. It's been a relaxing day, as it's been the first full break you could take and you decided to just replenish your energy by doing nothing all day. The day was good outside but you didn't feel like going out at all.

But you did not know that the outside would visit you instead.

A too-familiar figure barged into your room, with a familiar voice and force. "Hey! Your mom said I could come in. Hope you don't mind," Danielle exclaims.

You look up, surprised. You have to bid goodbye to your book because there was no way she would've left the house now.

"Uh, hey. No, not at all," you say, recollecting yourself. Looking around, you could see the mess the room was left in but after all the times your friend had seen, it wasn't much of a problem. You just left it as it was.

Danielle approaches, her grin widening as she eyes the book in your hands. She lowers her head and reads your title, not because she is interested, but because it could be a potential reason to tease you.

"What fascinating world are you escaping to today?" Danielle asks you.

Before you can respond, Danielle snatches the book away, dramatically flipping through the pages, not a word passing through her eyes.

"It's a great book, you know," you say before she can judge you. But that wasn't her intention. Danielle tosses the book aside and, with a sly grin, moves closer to you.

"Boys, your age don't really stay in their house all day, shouldn't you go outside?"

You raise your eyebrow. "What are you trying to say?

She clears her throat, "Well, you know, all boys go around picking girls, shouldn't you be interested in girls too? Especially me..."

"Books are interesting enough," you say, annoyed.

Danielle sighs heavily and slaps your shoulder. "You really don't get it do you...? Whatever," she says, "But do you know what's even more interesting than books?"

Without waiting for an answer, Danielle wraps her arm around you, pulling him into an unexpected side hug. You, visibly annoyed and embarrassed, squirm from the surprise and try to claw out of her grasp. But it just gets tighter. "Danielle, seriously, what are you doing?" you stutter.

Danielle chuckles, enjoying your annoyed remarks, and lets her other arm get you too.

"Just playing with you."

You try to pull away, but Danielle persists.

"Can we not do this right now?" you say. Danielle rolls her eyes and sighs before releasing you.

"Oh, come on. Just having a bit of fun," she says, pouting.

She playfully pokes your cheek and laughs.

"This is ridiculous."

Danielle seizes the opportunity and leans closer, circling your thighs. "You know, a little embarrassment never hurt anyone," she says and eyes you up and down, locking her eyes with yours. "Besides, you're kinda cute when you're flustered."

You groan, covering your face with your hands. "Why are you doing this???"

She laughs, finally satisfied, and lets herself fall on the couch. "You know," she speaks truthfully, "there's something about you that's just too irresistible."

"Yeah, you aren't the only one."

Suddenly, you feel Danielle's intense gaze on you. "Who else is teasing you? Girls?"

"Sometimes?"

"Oh, that's not good. They have to know you're taken."

You raise an eyebrow. You don't sense anything good coming. "What are you talking about now?"

"I was thinking, maybe I should leave my scent on you. You know, like marking my territory. That way, other girls will know you're taken."

You blink repeatedly, utterly bewildered.

"Leave your scent? Danielle, we're not animals."

Danielle chuckles.

"Just imagine it – you walk into a room, and everyone's like, –Oh, they smell like Danielle. They're off the market!–"

"You've been watching too many nature documentaries."

"Shut up and come here."

Danielle snuggles closer, her energy warming the room and your body. You feel her arms quickly wrapping around your body and her legs tangling into yours and before you knew it, she was already spooning you. After all these years of doing so, she has gotten quite good at it. "You know, you really should loosen up. It's just a cuddle between old friends."

You shift uncomfortably, a bit against her although her lively insistence was stronger than your will. "Danielle, seriously, we're not kids anymore. We can't just... cuddle like this."

She tilts her head, studying you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Come on! Don't be such a grown-up. We used to do this all the time when we were kids. It's nostalgic!"

You sigh, giving in a bit. "Yeah, but things are different now."

Danielle was a slim girl, petite. She felt small although you were the one under her grasp, and her limbs were delicate and fragile. She felt small but soft as well. She was an adult now, and her touch made your heart beat faster, in a way it never did.

Danielle grins, unphased. "Different doesn't have to mean worse."

"But seriously," Danielle says with curiosity, "you used to be the one initiating these cuddle sessions. What happened to that fearless little kid?"

You blush, a rare occurrence for the reserved you. "Well, things change. People change."

Danielle's eyes soften, and she nudges you gently. You can smell her perfume and it calms you. "Change isn't always bad, you know."

You can't help but smile at her infectious enthusiasm. Danielle, her head still nestled against your shoulder, can't resist the opportunity to tease you. "You know, I always thought you were the bravest little knight in our little adventures when we were young."

You raise an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. "A knight, huh? I'm not sure I see the resemblance."

Danielle chuckles, tracing imaginary patterns on your arm. A soft red starts to appear on your cheek. "Oh, please! You were my protector, always ready to face imaginary dragons and monsters. What happened to that fearless warrior?"

"Well, maybe I outgrew the knight phase."

Danielle leans back, looking at you with a sly grin. "Outgrew, or maybe you're just afraid to admit that deep down, you still have a bit of that brave knight in you."

You roll your eyes, but a small smile lingers on your face.

"Did you remember when I told you I'd be your princess? I still mean it you know?" she says, as if it was nothing.

You realize the meaning of her words and can't fathom any response, and Danielle can't help but enjoy the gentle blush that colors your cheeks. She teases you further, "You're blushing, Mr. Grown-up. Who would've thought the mighty knight would be so easily flustered?"

You mumble something incoherent, avoiding her gaze.

That was typical of you and your friend: constant teasing and joking. But you knew you wanted something more from her and you were just running around, trying to avoid it. One day, however, it finally came to you, knocking at your door, and you had to face it head-on.

You hear a loud frantic knocking on your door. The sudden noise surprises you and you get slowly, weary of who might be on the other end. The knocking doesn't stop and you look into the peephole. To your surprise, it wasn't a killer coming for you but it was your friend, Danielle, and from the looks of it, with her disheveled hair and tired eyes, she wasn't looking so good. You open the door and she bursts inside your apartment, drenched from head to toe, dripping water everywhere.

"Whoa, Danielle! What happened to you?" you exclaim.

She shakes herself like a wet dog, sending droplets flying, and brushes her wet strands away from her forehead to look at you in the eyes. "Caught in a sudden downpour. I practically swam here!"

You chuckle and walk to the bathroom. "Don't move!" you tell her as you go grab some towels. You don't want her wetting the whole house as well. "Well, you certainly look like you went for a swim."

Danielle takes the towel, but instead of immediately drying off, she shoots you a mischievous grin. "You look quite excited about seeing me, don't you?"

You raise an eyebrow and look at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

Danielle pretends to inspect her soaked clothes with exaggerated concern, scanning her shirt, and her skirt. She opens her arms and invites you to look at her clothes. "Oh, no. I think these clothes might be see-through now. But I'm sure you already noticed. I can feel you glued on me."

You immediately understand what she's trying to say. You roll your eyes and grow. "Danielle, come on. Don't be ridiculous."

She smirks, wringing out her hair over the towel. "Ridiculous? Or am I just giving you a little peek? You know it's fine. I didn't tell you not to look."

You blush, trying to play it cool. "You're impossible. I'm lucky it's just the two of us. Otherwise, I might get in trouble." You hate to agree with Danielle, but it was impossible for you not to notice her figure, perfectly feminine, perfectly grown, and perfectly beautiful. You gulp loudly and stare at the wall.

Danielle giggles, sauntering over to me with a playful twirl of her wet hair. "Well, I can't let you miss out on the view, can I?" She laughs again as you shoot a quick sideeye at her. "Oh, did I catch you looking again?"

"Come on! No, I didn't."

Danielle comes closer, she's having fun, too much fun. She sways her hips, brushing your chest, leaving wet handprints on your shirt and looks at you with such a teasing smile that you couldn't do anything but blush and back intot he wall. "Oh, don't look away, baby."

"Danielle, cut it out," you stammer, my cheeks turning a deeper shade of red.

She leans in, her voice dropping to a sultrier tone. "What's the matter? Don't tell me you're not enjoying this."

You try to look away, but Danielle continues to playfully tease you. Then she laughs, finally satisfied.

"Okay, okay, I'm just messing with you!" she confesses, wiping away a tear of laughter. "I couldn't resist seeing you squirm."

You sigh in relief, but your embarrassment lingers. "You're unbelievable, Danielle."

She giggles while running away.

You go to your room to pick up some clothes for her, unfortunately you got nothing else to give her but your own clothes. You try the smallest size possible, so at least she wouldn't have to swim in them. You smell them first, to make sure, she won't be annoyed by an unwanted smell, then think if she'd feel cold or not—the house was quite warm on the inside. You knew she always liked to wear shorts, so you get a pair and a shirt and sweater to match.

You hand her the clothes, "Here, these should be more comfortable than wet clothes."

Danielle, takes them and smiles brightly. "Oh, I didn't know you were such a considerate boyfriend," she says. You start blushing but this time she's blushing too between her creased cheeks. You chuckle nervously, dismissing the comment.

"It's nothing," you say and then point the bathroom. "You've already been here before. Go change there or take a shower if you want."

"I'll just change, thank you. Don't peek at me though, okay?"

"What are you saying? Of course I won't," you reply.

She grins and runs into the bathroom to put on your outfit. It doesn't take her a while before she emerges wearing your oversized hoodie and shorts, her hair slightly toused. You have to admit, she looked adorable. The way the hoodie was way too big for her, and how the shorts let you peek at her legs, it was amazing.

It almost looked like she was your girlfriend, and she knew it too.

"Look at me, wearing your clothes," she says, raising her arms. "It's like we're in some romantic drama."

"It's just because your clothes are wet. Don't read too much into it."

Danielle continues, batting her eyelashes dramatically. She looks at you with wide eyes. "You've never offered me your clothes before. Are you sure you're not secretly seeing me as your girlfriend?"

"Don't be ridiculous. It's just clothes," you say, but her words can't leave your mind. You almost agreed.

"But these clothes smell like you," she says, taking a sniff at it. You blush brightly. "Am I stealing your scent now?"

The situation looks absurd and you're getting more and more flustered but still, you had to keep your cool. "Don't overthink it."

She bursts into laughing and jumps into the couch. "You're so cute when you deny things. Maybe I should keep wearing your clothes more often."

Trying to hide his embarrassment, you manage a weak smile. "Sure, Dani, make yourself at home."

You and Danielle keep joking around until something starts to bother your friend. She looks at the sky, more precisely at the rain, as it runs down the window, and her smile starts to fade.

Danielle turns to you and her face drops into a malinconic gaze, her eyes are half there, they're thinking about something else, but you feel the weight on you. "You know, I'm starting to feel like a fool," she says with a sigh.

You blink, taken aback by the sudden intensity in her tone. "What do you mean?"

Danielle paces the room, her agitation pouring out with every step. "You've known for ages how I feel about you. I've dropped hints, practically spelled it out, and yet you never do anything."

Bewildered, you look at her. You couldn't lie to her, you wish you could say you never realized it, but you did. You did know she was flirting with you and you did hear what she told you, clearly and explicitly. But you didn't want to accept it, you didn't want to believe it. "I... I don't realize you feel that way. I think we're just really good friends," you say and truly, you didn't think a girl like her would have any serious intentions behind her smile.

She halts, turning to face you, frustration etched on her features. "Really good friends? You and I spend hours together, we share our deepest thoughts, and I've been giving you every possible sign that I like you. How do you miss it?"

You stammer, attempting to find the right words. "I don't think... I mean, I think you're just being friendly. I never imagined you feel something more. I thought you were just messing with me."

Danielle sighs."That's the problem. You never imagine. You never consider the possibility that my feelings might extend beyond friendship. I've been dropping hints, practically shouting them, and you remain oblivious. Did it ever go through your mind?"

You run a hand through your hair, frustration mirrored in your eyes. "I never mean to hurt you, Danielle. I just... I didn't see it."

Her eyes narrow, the pent-up frustration reaching its peak. "That's precisely it. You don't see it. You never see me. It's like I've been invisible, and no matter how much I hint, you never make a move."

Danielle's words knock the air out of your lungs. You've never seen Danielle this riled up and it hurt you to know you were the cause. You take a moment to trace back your words. Have you ever imagined a life with her? Have you ever wanted to have her to yourself? Have you ever desired her?

The answer was yes. You think deeply if it was fair for you to say that only after she basically begged you to acknowledge her, but it was true, you did like her and you didn't know you were allowed to.

Danielle takes another deep breath, attempting to compose herself, but the frustration continues to spill out. "I've liked you for so long. I think you might feel the same way, but you never make a move. I've been stuck in this limbo, unsure if you even see me as more than a friend. It's driving me insane."

Your eyes soften, a mix of regret and realization settling in. "I didn't mean to make you feel invisible, Danielle. I've just been clueless, and I'm sorry if I hurt you."

She shakes her head, her frustration giving way to a sense of vulnerability. "It's not just about now. It's about all those moments before, the missed opportunities. I can't keep waiting for something that might never happen."

As Danielle's words linger in the air, a heavy silence envelops the room, punctuated only by the sound of rain tapping against the window.

"I never wanted to hurt you, Danielle," you begin. "I've been so focused on convincing myself that you couldn't possibly feel that way about me, that I never stopped to consider how you might be feeling. I'm sorry for not seeing what was right in front of me."

Danielle's gaze softens, a mix of frustration and hurt still lingering. "You're not off the hook that easily. You can't just apologize and expect me to believe you."

You nod. "You're right. I messed up, and I can't change that. But I can be honest with you now. The truth is, I've been afraid. Afraid of ruining our friendship, afraid of facing my own feelings. It's not an excuse, just an explanation."

Danielle raises an eyebrow and folds her arms. "Afraid? You?"

You chuckle wryly. "Fear doesn't always make sense. And I guess I've been scared of admitting that I like you too."

Her eyes widen, she's surprised "You do?"

You nod, your vulnerability laid bare. You hope you didn't make a mistake but you couldn't hold it in, it was now or never. "Yes, Danielle. I do. I've liked you for a while, but I never thought you could feel the same way. I convinced myself it was just a dream."

She tilts her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "So, Mr. Fearless finally admits he's not invincible."

You grin, the tension between you starting to dissipate.

Danielle steps closer, a playful glint in her eyes. As the rain outside continues its rhythmic dance, Danielle takes your hand. "No more hiding, okay? Let's figure this out together."

And for the first time, you hug her first. Your hand gently pulls her and she lets herself go, straight into your arms. You hug her softly, but with passion, with happiness. Danielle does the same, for the first time, not to tease you and not to try to make you fall in love because for once, she knows in her heart you truly love her.

THE END

Written, 16 February - 22 February 2024

[dreadsuitsamus]

Bleach Men Taking Your Baby to the Grocery Store Headcanons

author's note: yes the premise is random but it's also very cute and perfectly in line with my recent onslaught of baby fever. also, the banners in this post were created by the always amazing @actuallysaiyan!! thank you for the gorgeous banners, babe! 🩷🩷🩷

pairings: kensei muguruma x reader, byakuya kuchiki x reader, grimmjow jaegerjaquez x reader, renji abarai x reader, ichigo kurosaki x reader

warnings: children ages 5 and younger and grimmjow's parenting lmao this is mostly fluff and some mischief mixed in from the babies

Kensei is definitely the tough parent of the two of you, and he relishes in that fact

But goddammit do those baby eyes make him waver

As he carries little Mila into the store, he tells her they're only there for necessities

No candy, no sugary cereals, only what you've tasked him to buy for dinner

Despite being only three and a half, however, Mila has a pretty good idea of how to get her way with Kensei

It's gotten slightly less effective since the pacifiers have been removed from her arsenal, but anything that cracks her dad's tough exterior is remarkable as is

It starts off innocently enough, though soon the way she sings her little song and bops her head around becomes rife with intent

"Daddy, can has hug?" She blinks up at him, holding her arms up

Either he's willfully choosing to fall into the trap, or Kensei is merely blind in the face of his precious girl

"Of course, baby." Kensei picks her up from the cart and kisses her wonderfully chubby cheek, leading the cart behind him as he continues through the store with Mila hooked on his hip

Mila curls up, humming as her eyes scan the shelves for something she wants

"Hold Momma's list for Daddy, okay?"

Mila's little fingers hold the list carefully, and soon Kensei is at a crossroad

"Broth. What kind of broth?" He mutters, fishing his cell phone from his pocket to call you

As usual, it turns into a bit of a squabbling match. He thinks remembering every little detail is silly, and you think you've made this dish so many times he should know you need chicken broth

Kensei is sufficiently annoyed by the time the phone call ends, and Mila strikes then

"Daddy, can has kiss?"

"Yes, baby." She gets a kiss on either cheek, and the kiss she gives his cheek right back is just about the final nail in the coffin

With Kensei holding her, she's able to reach the shelf and snag a little box of animal crackers

"Daddy, can has this?"

Played by the fucking toddler again!! That's three times this week!

"... Don't tell your brothers." Kensei sighs, hanging his head in shame

It's not all bad though; he does get another sweet kiss from his princess

Byakuya is a strict but ultimately fair father

Little Jasmine has grown up under his watchful eye, though through that she's certainly learned just how many of his limits she can press and how to get around them

Going to the grocery store is rare, and even more so if you're not present for the journey

But it's vacation time, and you're busy setting up the cabin for your family's stay, so Byakuya has been tasked with gathering enough groceries to make it through dinner and the morning's breakfast

Byakuya holds Jasmine’s hand and they walk inside together, Byakuya using a tissue to pick up one of the small hand baskets. There's no telling the last time this thing has been sanitized!

“What would you like for dinner tonight?” Byakuya asks the five year old, and Jasmine hums thoughtfully

How can she end the first day of this vacation with a delicious banana split?

Appealing to her father's tastes will increase the likelihood of success, and her father is quite fond of spicy foods…

“Can we have curry?”

The light in his eyes isn't missed by the girl, and she can practically taste an ice cream sundae with a waffle bowl already

“You're becoming more accustomed to spices, I see.” Byakuya hums and begins to survey the store's offerings, whereas Jasmine is mentally preparing her list for dessert

“Daddy?” Jasmine dials up the sweetness in her tone while Byakuya examines the various cuts of chicken on display

“Yes?” He hums

“Can we have a treat tonight?”

“What sort of treat?”

“A surprise treat. Please, Daddy?”

Byakuya pauses. He's no fan of sweets, and in general sugar is limited in the Kuchiki household

But she did say please

“Mm… I suppose.”

Byakuya doesn't meet your eyes when he and Jasmine return from the store with more ingredients for ice cream sundaes than dinner and breakfast combined

He is such a sucker, but he's happy to be played when he receives his banana split with a chocolate syrup drawing of his beloved Wakame Taishi from his darling daughter

Renji tries his best to be a strict father, but his determination wavers frequently. He wanted for many things as a child, and as a parent he doesn't wish to push that same feeling on his child as long as he's capable of providing a warm, loving home

Not to mention, that damn two year is old is just so cute it makes his heart melt at the mere sight of the toddler

“C’mon, honey, gotta get some soup for Mommy.” Renji murmurs as he carefully takes little Rin from his car seat, carrying him into the store on his hip

“Why?” is Rin’s favorite question right now, and Renji’s eye twitches a bit

“Because her tummy is upset.”

“Why?”

“... I don't know.”

“Why?”

“I don't know!”

“Why?”

Renji gently pinches his son's lips between his fingers. “Shhh… Quiet time.”

But of course, the moment he lets go, Rin is back at it again

“Why?”

“Because now Daddy has a headache.”

Rin, as gently as he can while simultaneously not managing much grace in the act, pats his father's sunglasses that sit atop his head

“All bedder?”

Renji's lip practically wobbles at the sweetness. “Yes, Daddy's all better. Thank you, sweetie.”

Rin rests his head against his father, playing with the Renji’s chain while he surveys all of the varieties of soup, Renji occasionally pulling the chain away from the baby's open mouth

Rin whines after his third attempt to eat the necklace, so Renji quickly grabs the first can of chicken noodle soup he sees and makes a dash for the checkout. No baby meltdowns in public, for the love of God

Renji gently bounces the baby, pleading softly with him to calm down. It's not working very well, however, and these damn checkout lines aren't moving at all!

Desperation wins and Renji's grabbing a lollipop before he knows it, tearing the wrapping off and popping the sucker into Rin’s teeny mouth

His plan to calm the baby works, and by the time he's actually able to check out and purchase the soup, the small pop is already gone and the tantrum is starting to blossom again

And just as Renji gets the baby strapped back into his carseat, he checks his phone to see a text you sent twenty minutes ago that practically sends his eyes popping out of his skull

Can you pick up a pregnancy test too?

He glances over at the toddler, and can practically see the boy as a big brother already

Even with a fussy baby in round two of the long lines, Renji's smile doesn't waver and he just kisses and coos at the hopefully soon-to-be big brother

Grimmjow is an interesting parent. Much like how every day with a four year old is a mystery, every day with Grimmjow is a deep dive into the unknown

So when sending the man and his mini-me to the grocery store, you're not quite sure what they're going to come home with. Hopefully it at least includes the items on the list, otherwise dinner is going to be very different from what you've planned

“Oi, keep up!” Grimm looks over his shoulder, the four year old having been distracted by a vending machine

“Want snack.”

“Too bad. Let's go.”

The toddler’s stare is a little too lead paint-y for Grimmjow's liking

“Zen.” Grimmjow looks on, unimpressed as he fishes a coin from his pocket. “Fine, brat. You win, you get a snack. I win, I get a snack.”

That gets the boy to smile, clapping his hands as he jumps in excitement

Grimmjow smirks. “Heads I win, tails you lose.”

The coin is flipped off of Grimmjow's thumb and he catches it easily, Zen waiting with bated breath for the results. Does Daddy win or does he lose??

Grimm sucks his teeth, shaking his head and tucking the quarter back into his pocket. “Heads I win. Tough luck, kid. Maybe next time.”

Zen pouts, watching his father slip a dollar into the vending machine and press the buttons for a honey bun. “Aw man…”

“C’mon.” Grimmjow opens up the snack, taking a big bite and grabbing the front of Zen’s coat, carrying him inside of the store like a handbag

The boy can't help but giggle as he looks up at his father; he loves air jail!

“You're in jail. Stop laughing, fuckin’ psycho.” Grimm shakes his son a bit, hiding his own laughter into the next bite of his honey bun. He's a hardass, but that baby's laugh is precious and melts him like ice cream on a sunny day

Heads turn at the way Grimmjow carries Zen, but Grimm is highly unbothered by such judgment. His kid is happy and healthy, and anyone that thinks otherwise can kiss his ass, for all he cares

“You got the list?” Grimm looks down at Zen, the boy fishing out the neatly-folded post-it note you lovingly tucked into his jacket pocket

Grimmjow perks a brow as he reads off the ingredients you've listed. “Say, kid—” he looks down at his son. “Whaddya say we ditch the list and get some pizza instead?”

Zen claps happily at the idea and Grimm grins menacingly, crushing up the grocery list and tossing it on the floor as he hoists his boy over his shoulder, stuffing the last bite of the honey bun in his baby's mouth whilst flipping off a scandalized woman at the checkouts

Growing up with two younger sisters was good for something after all, Ichigo thinks as he wrangles his twin girls through the parking lot with relative ease

The three year olds are stubborn and independent, having insisted they walk instead of having daddy carry them! But they still want to hold his hands, of course

why no he is not melting like a lava cake, why do you ask?

The girls gasp at the sight of a shopping cart with a racecar on the end that's the perfect size for two little ones!

“We don't even need a cart.” Ichigo deadpans, though it's in one ear and out the other as the babies pile into the little racecar, turning the steering wheels and beeping the (thankfully noiseless) horns

He feels like an idiot but as the dutiful father he is, Ichigo complies with his girls’ wishes and pushes the cart into the store

Chubby fingers point as little voices call out for candies and trinkets, and Ichigo's quick with each of his responses

“No.”

“I said no.”

“No ma'am!”

He's definitely cleaning their ears out when they get home, because clearly they can't hear him! Why else would they ask for things a million times over, hm?

“Daddy always say no.” Indigo pouts, her sister nodding in agreement. All they want is some candy!! Why is Daddy so mean?

Ichigo sighs in frustration as the aisle he needs to go down is absolutely packed, and he's stuck with this behemoth of a shopping cart. Settling it at the end of the aisle, he kneels down to make eye contact with the girls

“Stay put; I’ll be right back.”

Ichigo quickly rushes down the aisle, weaving between people to get to the pasta section

Now… If only he could remember what shape of pasta you told him to buy

Indigo and Imani look at each other, covering their mouths to hide their mischievous giggles

Those Push Pops they were eyeing are still nearby, and Daddy isn't!

As the tag team they are, Indigo and Imani spring into action, Indigo rushing to get the candy while Imani (who turns up the cuteness to a ten!) rushes down the aisle to her father

Ichigo frowns and picks up Imani, scolding her for leaving the cart

It isn't exactly effective, however, as the baby eyes and the cooing let her off the hook easily

When they get back to the cart after Ichigo remembers which pasta you've requested, he sets Imani back into the racecar

Indigo slips a blue Push Pop into her twin's hand, the two of them sharing a conspiratorial smile

They almost get away with it too, though when Ichigo's strapping them into their car seats he notices the lollipops

“Stop stealing!!!!”

These girls will surely be the reason he takes medication for his blood pressure, and he dreads the day when they become teenagers!

[cherricola-star]

Good girl

Of course you're his good girl you'd do anything to please him, Anything.

Tags: Afab!reader, Dom!Bangchan, Sub!reader, Daddy kink, cumming inside (protection pleeeease), squirting, cunnilingus, piv, Age gap (like 5 yrs dw), dirty talk, Chan is big (obvi), groping...etc

Word count: 2.2k

Posted: 11.26.24

Smut under the cut

How could you ever disobey your love? He did spoil you with many things, after all: love, lavish gifts, emotional support, and amazing sex. Honestly, you don't understand how you could have ever upset your beautiful husband. Well, that is what you're currently asking yourself. You couldn't help it; you were needy, and he was home because of his occupation.

You’ve been a stay-at-home wife for a while now after meeting Chan straight after graduation from your university at an after-party held by one of the previous graduates since their younger sibling happened to be in your graduating year. You still remember meeting him for the first time. How could you forget? He may not have been the tallest but his blonde hair, plush lips, strong jaw and adorable dimples were drawing you in like a moth to a flame. You couldn’t resist, especially not when he spotted you in the crowd.

He approached you and struck up a conversation asking you if you were a graduate and what your major was in. You learned some things about him too, like the fact that he was 5 years older than you with a house, car, and a well-paying job. God you never thought a grown man with a mortgage and his life figured out would turn you on so bad but you couldn’t help it you’ve always been a daddy’s girl.

This small interaction led to you getting to know each other even more with him courting you until you signed that marriage certificate promising to be with him through sickness and health.

The stay-at-home wife part came much later, about 2 years into your marriage when he came home to you and there was a home-cooked meal for him. After a bit of begging, you gave in and decided to quit your job, not like you enjoyed it anyway, but it was one of the best decisions you’ve made.

Chan was always busy with work but, it never bothered you since he still took you out on dates and spoiled you with sex and vacations whatever he had his days off but now he was on one of his business trips for his company and it was supposed to be a week long.

A whole week, how could you wait that long without an orgasm? Your sex life had never been put on such a long hiatus, the most being 3 days max but a week? You didn't know if you would survive. One of your favourite parts of the marriage was and is your sex life. He was so attentive and firm, he never made you feel unsatisfied, always making sure you came before anything else but there was one rule he had for you. Don’t cum without daddy.

You’ve followed these rules fairly well save for the few times where you disobeyed just for the fun of fucking around and finding out but now? You’ve been on a dry spell for 5 days and still had another 2 to go. You weren't a nympho at least you tried not to be but honestly, you couldn’t help it with a man like yours every time you weren’t on him was when you were either asleep or he was at work and it wasn’t your fault either, not when he was so graciously blessed with something you wanted in your mouth 24/7.

You glanced at the clock to see it was 1:30 am and all you’d been doing was fighting the urge to indulge in your impulsive thoughts but as time went on you began to realise. Nobody is home and it's the middle of the night one orgasm wouldn’t hurt especially in the dark. You made up your mind and turned to your favourite position to masturbate which was face down and ass up. You loved the way you felt spread like this and that when your legs gave out you’d fall onto your hand to continue to play with yourself even in overstimulation.

You pull up your nightgown and spread your legs, having forgotten underwear since you were too lazy to put on a pair earlier. Your fingers started to rub at your clit, stimulating you further and pushing you to continue. Your fingers move from your clit to in between your slick folds to gather your arousal to continue to rub at your sensitive bundle of nerves. You had never been loud while masturbating this time you decided there was no harm in letting out sweet breathy moans since nobody was around to hear them anyway. You move your fingers to prod at your entrance while you start to think about how upset your husband would be if he saw you right now but instead of stopping it turns you on even more causing you to slip both fingers in to find your sweet spot.

Finding your g-spot you start to massage the soft spot bringing your breathy moans to light whining while thoughts of your husband spurred you on to continue. Lost in your self-pleasure while still being in a dark room you don’t seem to recognize another presence in the room with you at the same time. You feel two warm hands on the globes of your ass causing you to let out a scream and retract your hand from your drenched pussy.

“Shhh careful baby you might hurt yourself.” You heard the voice of your husband right against your ear and tried to steady your breathing and steady your heartbeat.

“What were you doing in the dark baby? Surely you weren’t being naughty and violating my rules were you?”

You’re fucked, completely and utterly fucked. He wasn’t supposed to be home this soon, never mind this late at night. Your thoughts are dragging you into your world before your husband’s voice pulls you out again.

He continues to massage your ass while speaking “And here I thought I could surprise my beautiful wife by coming home early and having her wake up to me but instead I get a brat playing with her naughty pussy without her Daddy’s permission. What should I do with you?”

You break out in a whine due to your neediness and the lack of stimulation on your aching core. You feel his hand slide from your ass to spread your further to look at your dripping centre before blowing on it causing you to squeal. He pulls away and you push your ass back to seek him out again craving his touch on you again.

“Please please please Channie needs you so bad... Didn’t have you for so long couldn’t help myself”, you plead with him raising up your body with your arms to turn around and look at his shaded silhouette in the dark room. He lets on a chuckle before putting a warm hand on the centre of your back and pushing you back down into an arch. You feel his warm breath near your sopping wet cunt before he speaks again “Im sorry baby shouldn’t have left my needy girl alone for so long but don't worry I'll make it up to you,” He licks his warm silky tongue against your wet cunt dragging out a long deep moan from you. You weren’t sure if you wanted to cry from the pleasure or relief of knowing that you were going to be able to cum regardless you loved the feeling as his soft thick plush lips latched on to your swollen clit to such on it before moving them to your entrance to suck and lick at that as well.

That warm feeling of your orgasm warns you of its incoming presence and you push yourself further back on his face as he tongue fucks you. “Fuck such a needy baby,” he pulls away forbore turning you onto your back to resume his activities from earlier while he put your legs over his shoulders. The new angle had him ravishing you more intensely than the previous one with his tongue licking aggressively at your clit before switching back to sucking on it. The pleasure was borderline overwhelming with you giving broken breathy moans and your nails digging into his scalp to pull him closer.

“M’ Gonna cum” You whine. Chan doesn’t stop, instead continuing to lick and suck with more intensity than before. You feel that thigh band snap and you cream all over his tongue as he licks up your arousal before sitting back on his knees. You pant trying to get your breath back after that leg-numbing orgasm while Chan takes off his clothing.

You look at his naked body in all of its glory admiring every curve and lean cut of muscle. He was so perfect that you sometimes had a hard time believing he was your husband. As your eyes continue to wander you look at his v-line following down to his cock. It was one of the prettiest ones you’ve ever seen really, it was pretty and veiny with a pink tip, a girth that would leave you aching all day and a length that would either gently or brutally kiss your cervix every time you two got intimate. You truly loved his cock and if the situation was different you’d no doubt have it in your mouth right now sucking and licking it to your heart's content.

You watch him reposition himself between your legs and spread them wide to look at your puffy blushed cunt as he takes one hand to rub through your wet folds again causing you to buck your hips. He takes his slicked-up finger and rubs them up and down his shaft getting it wet so it’s easier for you to take him.

You look up at him with pleading eyes silently begging him to give you his cock. “Is my baby that desperate?” he slaps his cock on your pussy a couple of times before sliding it between your folds and rubbing his tip on your clit simultaneously. You hump yourself onto his cock begging for him to stop teasing you and to just put it in. He seems to pick up on your non-verbal begging and decides to take mercy on you and slams his cock into your tight pussy.

As if all the air is knocked out of your body your eyes roll to the back of your head as you cream on his cock just from that forceful entry. He stares at you in disbelief, shocked that you came before he could even get 3 thrusts in. He pulls his cock out to thrust it in shallowly before you whine from overstimulation.

“Don’t be like that love, Daddy has to come too. You wouldn't want to be the only one having fun huh?”, You shake your head in response and he smirks at you “Good girl, you'll let me do anything right,” You nod your head in response “so you'll let me use this cute pussy until I cum?” You give him your verbal consent knowing that he wouldn’t continue if you didn’t respond without words. He takes your consent and slowly starts to thrust back into you slowly picking up speed as he does.

.

.

.

You've had more orgasms since and your poor cunt was being constantly bullied with your husband's fat cock which in turn was causing you to continuously clench around him. “Such a good girl f’me letting me use her till I come,” you gasp as one particular trust hits a little too deep. “Too much.” you slur out and you don’t know if you have any more in you, “Just one more baby you can do it.” he encourages you to hold on for one more. He takes your legs, puts them over his shoulders and grabs your hips to slightly elevate your lower body. This new position and his new vigorous speed have you seeing stars. His hard cock bullying your soft spongy walls now felt way more intense and made you clench uncontrollably on him making him whisper out curses.

“Fuck you’re so fucking tight for me. Daddy’s gonna come soon yeah? He’s gonna ruin this pretty pussy with his cum yeah?" You whine at his vulgar words as you feel your final orgasm coming on. He impossibly picks up his pace hitting that sweet spot continuously before you scream out your orgasm. Though, this time instead of creaming on his cock you squirt all over him which in turn causes him to cum deep inside of your abused cunt. He leans down and takes your lips in a soft wet kiss nipping at your bottom lip.

He pulls back and lets his softening cock slip out and with it his cum. He chuckles at your ruined state before leaving the bedroom to gather your aftercare kit and a bottle of water. He returns and takes the wipes to wipe you clean while whispering sweet words of praise and love before giving you the water to drink. Once you were finished he laid you down and cuddled behind you giving delicate kisses to your lower neck. He pulls back and leans over to your ear giving a light whisper “Next time I catch you paying with yourself like a whore, I won't be so fucking nice.”

You smile to yourself knowing exactly what you were going to do the next time he had a business trip before drifting off to sleep.

Hi guys I have a new one shot again. Please be sure to interact because Ik I tend to forget after reading a fic. Have a lovely day/night until next time.🍒

[awkness]

Serial killer! Platonic! Yandere Older Brother & Genderneutral Teenage Reader (Part 2)

(Part 1) (Part 3)

As reader tries to adjust to their new life without their father, a number of concerning incidents occur, including off-putting behavior from your brother, prevents that from happening. But despite everything, you make a new friend. Surely, this can only mean good things for you, right? Things must be looking up!

Content warnings: implied murder, manipulation, domestic abuse, briefly mentioned alcoholism and child abuse, and general yandere shenanigans. If I missed anything here, please let me know :3

Authors note: lmao I have no excuse for being this late I'm just slow. This was originally supposed to be the last chapter but it got too long so I had to split it up. It feels like a bit of filler but I promise we'll get to the good stuff soon it just needs some set up. Part 3 should be the last part so I'll try not to be too slow uploading (<- lying)

There were very few things about your father you liked, but his house was one of them. It was something he had inherited from his father, who Ben would inherit as soon your father could be pronounced legally dead. It came with a master bedroom, two normal bedrooms, a bathroom, a living room, a kitchen, the basement, and an attic.

The attic was something you had always been fascinated with as a child. It was spacious, fully insulated and even had an openable window. It could have been a bedroom all on its own. As a child, you had often daydreamed of moving your stuff up there, utilizing the bigger space for blanket forts and storing all the toys your little heart could desire. In reality, it was used in the same way the basement was, except it stored much more valuable items. Holiday decorations, clothes, old valuables that had no room to be displayed, and whatever family heirlooms your late father kept were shoved up above your head, taking space that could have been used for you. You had thought you had grown out of this fantasy, content with the room you had, but with your father gone and your brother running the house, the childhood dream had crept its way back into the front of your mind, tempting you with visions of a bigger, cooler room.

So, after working up the courage, you finally asked Ben if you could move up there. It surprised you just how easily he said yes.

And now you're here, Ben helping you sort through trash and treasure alike as you both clear out the room.

You pulled an unlabeled box from the seemingly endless pile, the top covered in dust and cobwebs. You try not to think about how many spiders are in the room with you now. Cleaning them out will be a trouble for another day.

The box opens easily, cardboard weak from age, a musty smell emanating from within. You look inside, only to be left dumbfounded. Why were there women's clothes in here?

"Hey, Ben, do you know whose clothes these are?"

Ben looks up from his own box, a vaguely confused look on his face. As he makes his way towards your box, you watch it drop into a frown.

"Those are moms."

"Oh." Is all you can say.

An awkward moment passes between you two as Ben stares into the box, face strange as he becomes lost in thought. You decide to break the tension.

"Why do you think he kept them?"

He looks away from the box and towards you, his body slowly beginning to relax.

"He was always a sentimental man, I guess that's reason enough for him."

You let out a snort. "What's there to be sentimental over? She cheated on him, divorced him, and then dumped us on him. She's not exactly a woman worth pining over."

"I'm not arguing with you, but you remember how he was. Couldn't ever let anything go."

He began rummaging through it, quickly getting to the bottom before closing it back up.

"Nothing but clothes. We should probably donate this."

You give a nod as you watch him put it in the growing donation pile. That was going to be such a pain to bring down to the car.

Instead of thinking about that, though, you turn your head to the box that Ben was searching through before you called him over.

"Is this one mom's too?"

Before you get an answer, you take a peek inside, only to once again be at a loss for how something like this could be in your home.

Inside was an assortment of strange objects. A broken polaroid camera, a stained photo album, and an array of metal objects like locks, deadbolts, and... were those shackles?

Before you could make out any more objects, Ben had made his way to you and reached over to close the flaps of the box.

"I doubt it, probably just more junk he couldn't throw away."

He turned around to you and smiled, hands holding the flaps shut.

"Want to do me a favor and go start bringing the donation boxes to the car?"

"Ugh, why do I have to bring them down?"

"Because you're the one who wanted to move up here."

You glared at him as his smile turned into an amused smirk, before you finally gave a huff and picked up a box from the pile.

"Jerk."

"Brat." The smile never left his face.

With only moderate trouble, you navigated your way down the stairs and out the door, making your way to the car. Unfortunately, you had only realized you forgot the keys when you tried to open the door to pop the trunk open.

You quietly mumble curses under your breath as you set the box next to the car, ready to make the trip back inside. Instead, you go completely still as you catch a look at the people across the street.

It was a small group of high schoolers your age, maybe older, who go to your school. They were standing the the yard across the street, a few houses down, talking together to throwing glances in your direction. Your ears strain as they try to make out their incoherent babble. They couldn't have known about your situation, could they? Or at least, what the official story was. It had been over a month since that happened, it doesn't make sense that they would be talking about it now. But you were just moving boxes out of the house such a short time after it happened. That looks suspicious, doesn't it? Of course it does. Why did you have to ask to move into the attic now?

You had been standing like a deer in headlights, openly staring for what felt like minutes before one of them seemingly made eye contact with you. You avert your gaze down as you feel your cheeks grow hot and your hands grow sweaty. A chorus of laughter erupts from the group.

Without thinking, you rush up to the door, fling it open, and slam directly into Ben as he was carrying. You hear it hit the floor as you speed walk past him.

"Wha- Hey! (Y/N)! What happened?"

You didn't reply. You barely even heard his words. Panic had fully taken over and kept you moving away from Ben, away from the door, away from the outside world, and all the judgemental people it contained.

You finally make it to your room, shutting the door behind you, and seating yourself on your bed, trying to get your bearings. 

Tears begin stinging your eyes as your shaky hands try and wipe them away. You wonder if they were still laughing at you.

A soft knock comes from your door, and your body shrinks inward, unprepared for the upcoming talk.

"Kid? Can I come in?"

You don't reply. You know Ben is going to come in anyway.

He waits a beat before opening the door, his face the picture of concern. His footsteps are quiet, and his movements gentle as he sits next to you. You find your body leaning away from him.

"Want to tell me what happened?"

You shrug, turning your head away from him. Even if you did want to talk, you couldn't trust your voice right now.

"Alright, that's fine, we can figure it out together. Was it something to do with mom's clothes?"

You don't move. Maybe if you don't answer, he'll leave and let you deal with your embarrassment in peace.

"The attic?"

A pause.

"Something in the box you were carrying...? Or maybe something outside?"

You stiffen, and immediately try to make yourself relax. Maybe he didn't notice?

"Does this have something to do with the neighbors?"

Oh. Nevermind.

Despite your best efforts, your body language must have given you away again. You hear the bed creak as he gets up, the blinds rustling a moment later as he gives a huff.

"It's those kids across the street, isn't it?" His voice takes on an edge of irritation, and you feel yourself curl inwards again.

The bed shifts as he takes his seat next to you again, a comforting hand placed on your shoulder. His voice takes on the softer quality it had before.

"I can't help you if you don't help me, kid. Did they talk to you?"

You shake your head, trying to talk, but finding the words stuck in your throat.

"They-" Your voice falters and you clear your throat, barely able to speak above a whisper.

"They didn't have to. I could see them looking at me and laughing, I knew they were talking about me, just like all the neighbors do whenever they see us. It's like they know. And these-"

You sniff, snot beginning to run and throat burning as you talk. Ben squeezes your shoulder, and you continue.

"These people go to my school, Ben. They know me. When I have to go back, they'll talk and tell everyone and the whole school will know what happened. They'll treat me different, they'll ask questions, and I won't know what to tell them-"

Your quivering voice finally gives out, and you cover your face. Ragged, irregular breaths come out as you try to force back the wave of emotions you've just unleashed. Gently, Ben pulls you to his chest as he rubs your back, murmuring gentle reassurances you couldn't quite hear.

Moments pass until your breathing finally evens out, eyes dry but still red and puffy. You slowly pull back and he lets you, his face full of worry. His hand still remains on your shoulder, an ever-present weight.

"You've had this on your mind for a long time, haven't you?"

You give a feeble nod. The thought of having to return to school had been weighing on you, but you hadn't realized how bad it had been until now. The thought is almost enough to send you spiraling again.

"I don't want to go back."

Ben gives you a smile. "You don't have to."

Your mind freezes for an instant, any and all thought muddled into incohereency.

"What?"

"Why don't I sign you up for online school this year? I remember you talking about wanting to do it a couple of months back, so why not now?"

"I..."

Your brows furrow. You did tell Ben that you wanted to do online school a couple of months ago before summer started. But this wasn't a new wish. You had been dreaming of being homeschooled since you had dreamed of living in the attic. Troubles in finding friends and fitting in had always followed you throughout the years until you realized the futility of it all, and only dreamt of a home where you didn't have to leave, and Ben and you could spend your days in peace. But the reality of your father's abuse had made school a begrudgingly safe haven of yours and you had slowly given up on that dream, too. But now that it was fully within your hands, you found yourself hesitating. Why? There was no monster in your home anymore, you were safe, and there's no reason to say no.

"I don't know."

He smiled.

"It wouldn't have to be permanent, just for this year. And if you don't like it, I can reenroll you back into your old school, so your options are always open. Plus, you're right, (Y/N). I know how cruel kids can be, especially when they're confronted with situations and people they don't understand. I don't want you to face that if you don't have to."

You gnaw on your lip, unsure of what to say. Ben was right on all accounts, the things he was saying made sense, and yet you couldn't find yourself saying yes. Why couldn't you let yourself have this?

"Can I think on it?"

Ironically, it came out of your mouth before you could think at all.

He nodded, his good-humored smile still on his face. You let out a small breath, so glad to still see it there.

"Of course, kid, it's a big decision. Take your time."

He gave your shoulder one last pat before getting up.

"I'm going to move the rest of the boxes in the car and go drop them off. You want me to pick up dinner on the way back?"

"Yeah, I'm fine with whatever."

"Alright. Rest up, I'll be back soon."

Unable to say much else, you nod as he gives you one last smile before he heads out the door, closing it behind him.

You rub your eyes, your body slowly unwinding from the tension just moments prior, until it gives in and you lay down on your bed.

With nothing else left to do, you crawl under your covers, the familiar comfort of the soft and worn fabric soothing your nerves. Distantly, you hear the sound of Ben's footsteps as he makes his way back and forth from the attic, the familiar and comforting sound lulling you into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning was pretty uneventful. Ben was off at work while you continued clearing the attic, sorting out the junk and keepsakes, only occasionally getting scared by the stray spiders that had made their home in the crevices between the boxes.

By noon, everything was sorted, with the only thing left being to take the boxes to be donated or tossed in the trash. But you needed Ben to help you with that, so you found yourself heading down to the kitchen, heating instant noodles in the microbe, wondering what you were going to do until he got home.

Around this time is when you usually went to go check the mail, but since yesterday, the thought of having to leave the house left you with an uneasy feeling, tension building in your spine and shoulders the longer you thought of it. A part of you was ashamed that you couldn't even walk out to the mailbox without it being a big deal, and another, much larger part, found immense relief in the thought of abandoning the task altogether, and not having any more chance encounters like yesterday. The more you considered it, the more you found your body sagging in relief. Yeah, Ben can grab it when he gets home, you're sure he wouldn't mind. It's no big deal.

The microwave beeps and you grab the noodles, all thought of the outside quickly leaving your head.

You had just dumped the flavor packet in when you heard a knock at the door.

Your heart, ashamed you were to admit, skipped a beat, and you froze mid-action, breath catching roughly in your throat. Who could that be? Maybe that was Ben, and he had just forgot his keys? No, that's stupid, he wouldn't be home this early, and he never forgets his keys. With no other answers coming to mind, you quietly set the packet down and got up to the door to peek through the peephole.

On the other side of the door stood one of your neighbors, a kid your age. You see him the most often out of all of your neighbors, often doing yard work and tending to the flowers in his front yard. He was also the guy you caught staring at you the most. Well, maybe staring wasn't completely accurate, but whenever you looked his way, you two would usually make eye contact before one of you shyly looked away. You didn't know why, and it played havoc on your nerves. He wore a hoodie despite the summer heat and had an envelope in his hand. He looked nervous.

You pull away and bring your hand to undo the locks before stopping.

For one glorious, tempting moment, you picture yourself turning around, going back to your noodles, and taking them upstairs and away from the door to eat in peace until Ben comes home.

Instead, you undo the locks and open the door.

Your neighbor looks slightly taken aback like he didn't expect anyone to answer. You try not to notice.

"Hello?" You ask.

"Oh, uh, hi! I'm Alex, your neighbor. I live right next to you, the house to the right, well- uh, my right, your left. The one with the red car and lawn gnomes out front?"

He gestures sheepishly towards his house, face nearing the complexion of a tomato.

"Nice to meet you, Alex. I'm (Y/N)."

The social protocols of politeness take over, unable to fully pay attention as your mind stalls, still in a state of shock from the anxiety of the situation.

"(Y/N)? That's a nice name." He smiles at you before quickly looking at the ground.

He hands the envelope over to you, speaking as you look over it.

"Uh, I just wanted to drop this off. I think our mail got mixed up."

Sure enough, the envelope had your brother's name and address on it.

"Oh, thank you." You say lamely.

For a beat, you wonder if you should say something more. It felt wrong to just leave the conversation as it was and close the door, but what else were you supposed to say? Before you can think about it, he speaks again.

"I, uh, wanted to say that I heard about what happened to your dad, and I'm sorry."

Again, your heartbeat skips, and you stiffen, body alert, eyes wide. You probably look like a deer caught in headlights in front of him if he wasn't still looking at the ground. The thought would embarrass you if it weren't for the sharp spike of adrenaline hitting your veins.

"I... I had a dad like him too."

And just like that, your body pauses its panic response, and you find yourself fully focused on him as he continues.

"I thought it would be easier after me and my mom moved away, and it has been, but those kinds of experiences don't just go away, and I wanted to say that you aren't alone."

You still felt a little wired from the previous scares, you you felt a strange sense of ease slowly pass through you at his words.

You stare at him, as he stares down, no words passing between you two before you finally speak.

"Thank you."

You only hesitate for a moment before continuing.

"It has been rough, but it's been more of a relief than anything. It's nice not having to hide away in my room until he leaves."

He looks up, a small smile gracing his face as he finally relaxes.

"Yeah, it's nice not having to check to see if he passed out in the house again."

You find your lips quirking up. "Or having to check his pulse when he is passed out."

"Not having to worry about him throwing a fit whenever he runs out of beer despite him being the one who drank it all."

"Not having to constantly hide food in your room so you have a supply when he does throw his tantrums"

Alex gave a disbelieving laugh.

"Yours let you get food out of the kitchen? There was a lock on the fridge and pantry when I lived with mine."

Your smile widened into one of disbelief, amusement, and shock. "What the hell? Why?"

"Kept getting upset that the food would go missing. Worst part is, every time he got blackout drunk, he'd binge eat, pass out and get mad at us for eating all the food."

You couldn't help it. You started giggling, and he started giggling, unable to react in any other way to the absurdity of it all.

"Sorry! I really shouldn't laugh-" You began, failing to stifle the laughter.

"Don't be!" He said. "He's a stupid guy, you should laugh at him."

You both share the moment, the laughter slowly dying down as you both take your first good look at each other. In this moment, you see something you can't help but talk about.

"Is that a minecraft necklace?"

He looks surprised, but pleasantly so. He glances down before holding it up with a grin. The pendant was the shape of a creeper head.

"Yeah, I'm a big fan!"

He puts it back down and his demeanor changes back to being sheepish, but not painfully so like he was before.

"I have minecraft for Xbox and a spare controller at my house. If you want, you can come over and play?"

It was your turn to be nervous again.

On one hand, you wanted to say 'absolutely'. You couldn't remember the last time you got invited to hang out, and the thought of something as normal as playing a video game with a friend was something you needed. Well, maybe you couldn't call him a friend yet, but you feel like you could, given enough time. Plus, after being so afraid of your neighbors and leaving your house, having someone come up to you and act so warm and friendly made you feel soft. It was hard to say no to that.

On the other hand, you had the nagging, unnameable feeling that Ben would be, upset, but you couldn't think up any concrete reason as to why. In fact, if you focused on that feeling too long, your mind went blank.

Sure, you were going about out of the house without him knowing, but Ben has always been supportive of you. Sure, he's never really discussed rules about going over to a friend's house because the situations never come up, but he's fairly easygoing. You were sure that if you explained why you went, he would be understanding. Happy, even.

Plus, you were only going next door, you had your phone on you, and you would be back before Ben came home, so it's not like he had to even know what happened. Not that you wanted to lie to him, but something about that option comforted you more than any of the other things you listed.

Discomfort pushed aside, you gave a smile back to Alex.

"Sure thing, let me grab my phone."

It could have been the perfect hangout. Alex's mom was nice, bringing you two snacks and telling stories from Alex's childhood despite his embarrassment, as you two hung out in the living room while he helped you figure out the controls. Soon enough, you two were building a base together, laughing at each other as a creeper or sneaky skeleton would get kills on you both.

You were halfway through making the third story of the base when your phone started ringing. You felt your heart drop to your stomach when you saw Ben's picture on the screen.

"Shit."

You immediately pocketed in and got up.

"What's wrong?" He paused the game and looked up.

"I wasn't supposed to stay so late, my brother's probably home by now."

You went over to the window and peeked through the blinds, and as fate would have it, you saw his car in the driveway.

You hear Alex speak from the couch, voice slightly concerned.

"You're not going to get in trouble, are you?"

That was the question, wasn't it?

"I... don't think so. Maybe? I've never been out late before."

"If you want, I can come with you and explain what happened. I'll take the blame."

Despite your growing worry, you felt a pang of gratitude come through. You gave a small smile.

"That's okay, he'll probably be a little mad, but I don't think it's that serious."

You headed to the door, Alex following behind.

"Hey, on the chance you don't get grounded or whatever, here's my phone number."

You look back and see him scribbling on a piece of paper before he hands it over to you. You take it and look at sloppy, but thankfully still legible writing, and give a bigger, more genuine smile.

"I'll text you later. If I still have my phone, that is." You joke, or at least try to.

He gives a smile and a wave as you turn back and exit the front door.

As it closes behind you, the warmth of the interaction slowly leaches from you and leaves you feeling cold and rattled.

You didn't fully believe the things you said to Alex. You had no real idea what Ben would like because you had never gone against what he said before. The thought alone turned your stomach into knots. It was simply how you two functioned, Ben was the one in charge and made the big decisions, and you listened. Sure, he never had any explicit rules about this, but that didn't mean anything.

As you made the short walk to your home, you began strategizing.

You should do damage control right away, start apologizing straight away, and let him know where you were and what you were doing. Wait, should you mention Alex? At that thought, you shoved the paper with his number deep in your pocket. You didn't want Ben to see it.

Before you could think about it anymore, you were at your front door. Your back tensed, and you hesitated only a moment before opening the door. Waiting would only make it worse.

Before you can fully step in, you see Ben pacing the kitchen, brows furrowed, face strained. As soon as he heard you, his head whipped up, and you felt yourself freeze like a rabbit spotted by a wolf. Frozen, unable to do anything else than stare.

"(Y/N)?"

Just like that, you were broken out of your trance, finally allowed to move again.

You step in all the way and close the door behind you.

"I'm sorry! I didn't think I'd be out that long, I wasn't keeping track of time, I-"

Your voice died the moment you looked back to Ben's face, his features looked so... angry. You've never seen him look at you like that before, never seen him look like that at all. It set off a loud, blaring warning in your brain that something was wrong, and that you needed to leave. But that was crazy. This is Ben, your brother, you were fine.

You tried to start again.

"I was..."

It tapered off as you saw him move towards you, movement swift and robotic as he kept his attention on you. Without thinking, you shrunk back.

"Ben-"

Before you could finish he's in front of you, grabbing your shoulders so tightly it's borderline painful. You grip his arms, weakly trying to push away, knowing better than to seriously try.

"Where were you?"

There was such a dangerous edge to his voice that you couldn't think, couldn't look away. Your breaths came out shallow and your voice so tiny you could barely hear it.

"With the neighbors."

That only made him angrier.

"What neighbors? We don't talk to the neighbors here."

Oh, you were shaking now.

"With- with the neighbors right next to us, the Rogers. I was hanging out with Alex-"

"Who the Hell is Alex?"

His grip got tighter as he shook you, and you could feel the bruises forming. You started pushing at him again, but your arms trembled so badly you might as well not have tried.

"B-Ben, it hurts."

Your voice was so thick with emotion that it was hardly coherent, but Ben understood.

His face blanked for a moment, body shocked to stillness as you continued to try and leave. Then, without warning, he let you go, turned his back and walked a few paces away from you, pinching his nose as he let out a sharp breath.

You listen to him as he takes deep breaths while you rub your sore arms, snot beginning to run as your eyes turn wet. As you step away, you feel your back pressed against the door, and you have the fleeting idea to open it and run away. You realize what you're thinking, and the idea terrifies you so deeply you stay rooted to the spot.

Finally, Ben turns back, face still hardened but not as severely as before.

"Who's Alex?"

You sniff. You really didn't want to do this anymore.

"He's the neighbor's kid. Our mail got mixed up and he brought it over to me, and invited me over to hang out."

You probably should have stopped there, but some scared, hurt part of you needed Ben to understand that you didn't mean this, it wasn't your fault. Your voice cracked as you continued.

"I'm sorry, I'm really, really sorry. It was only supposed for a little bit, I didn't think I would be over for so long, just an hour or two. I- I didn't mean for this to happen, I should- I should of called you."

You stopped, but only because the shaking in your hands had spread to your voice, and you didn't think you could keep going without sounding like a complete mess.

His face didn't soften for a moment, staring blankly as you had gone on. After it ended, he closed his eyes, rubbed his face and gave a sharp sigh.

You couldn't read him when he looked away. Was he calming down? Did that make him more upset? Every second that ticked by frayed your already worn-out nerves. You were only one yell away from bursting into tears.

He looked up again, face the same as it was before.

"Do you know what it's like to come home with the door unlocked and see you missing, with no goddamn clue where you could be? What was I supposed to think? You didn't even pick up your damn phone!"

He stopped, took a breath, and then continued, a dangerously calm edge to his voice.

"And then you tell me you decided to stay over at a stranger's house without calling me? A person you only met today? They could of been anybody, anything could happened to you. I thought you had better sense than that."

It stung.

"I'm sorry."

It sounded small and pathetic, even to your own ears.

He let out a sigh.

"Go to your room. We'll talk about this more later."

You don't think twice. You rush away on shaky legs to your room and quietly close the door behind you, afraid of doing anything else to set him off. The bed lets out a soft creak as you sit down. You gather your quivering hands in your lap and look down on them, not sure what to do with yourself.

Before you can think about it any further, you hear the front door open and slam shut, then the car turning on and driving away.

As it quiets down, you can't help it. Stifled sobs climb their way out of your chest, feeling like they're choking you until you can't resist anymore. You collapse on your bed, openly crying until you exhaust yourself to sleep.

The next morning felt almost surreal. You woke up to hearing Ben walking about the house as he did his morning routine. Usually, you would be out of the room right now doing the same, with you both then sitting down to eat breakfast together until it was time for him to leave. This time, you stayed in bed the entire time, idly scrolling your phone as you listened to his footsteps.

A part of you expected him to knock at your door, and ask you why you weren't out yet. Instead, you heard the sizzle of eggs hitting a hot pan as they cooked, and after a short few moments, the front door opening, closing, and locking behind him. The familiar sounds of the car's engine slowly faded away, and you finally got out of your bed, ready to start your day.

You decided to text Alex. You were hesitant to give the details of what happened, simply saying that Ben was upset and things were tense, and thankfully, Alex never pushed it. Instead, he started sending you memes and talking about his ideas for the minecraft world you both started. It was surprising how easy it was to talk to him, the conversation going for hours before he had to leave to help with dinner.

When it was time for Ben to come home, you scurried back to your room, feeling relieved but guilty when you closed the door. On one hand, you could still feel the fear you had last night, and you had no idea what to do with it. It was perplexing and off-putting, and thinking too hard on it made you feel like your brain was turning to static, so you opted to not think about it at all, which meant avoiding your brother as well.

But the guilt wouldn't let you be. It turned what should have been the comfort of your room into a place of wrongness, that you were doing something awful by keeping yourself here and not going down to see him like you usually did. Your lip began to bleed, and only then you realized you had been chewing on it since you heard Ben's car pull in.

You contemplated texting Alex for a distraction as you heard him make his way into the house. And then, step by step, make his way way to the hallway, and then to your door.

And then, the knock.

"Can I come in?"

You don't know if you want to answer, so you don't.

"I know you're awake, kid. Your lights on."

Thoughts raced through your mind as you tried to figure out what to do. For a moment, your mind latched onto the idea that you could pretend to be asleep, but you immediately shrugged it off. This was going to happen anyway, might as well happen now.

"Come in."

The door opens, and you see Ben, completely exhausted, his gaze nervously flitting towards you and the floor as he carried a fast food bag in his hand.

"I brought dinner."

You instinctively perk up at the mention of food, and he takes that as a sign to step closer and sit on the far side of the bed, bag between you two, as he clasped his hands together. His leg starts to quickly bounce before he stops it.

"Figured I'd pick up something on the way home. Didn't feel like cooking.

You nod, even though there's something in you that compels you to do or say more to try and ease his nerves. Even now, after what he did, you hate to see him upset. You try to push the urge to comfort down as you pointedly look away.

Both of you sit in silence while looking anywhere but at each other. In your peripheral, you can see him fidgeting with his hands.

"I know I scared you last night, I just-"

He nervously shifts in his seat. His voice is halting but sincere.

"It worried me, seeing you gone. You mean so much to me, (Y/N). Ever since you were born, I've been there to take care of you. I can't remember a time without you, and I don't want to. You're a part of me, without you, I... I don't even know who I am."

You look over at him and freeze. You're big brother, the man who protected you and cared for you your whole life, is bunched in on himself, face strained and twitching with barely contained emotion as he doggedly stares directly ahead, like looking at you would hurt him. His eyes are red and dark circles frame them. You swallow, years of experience screaming at you to reach over and comfort him, but instead, you sit, never once looking away as he continues talking.

"I shouldn't have done that to you, kid. I should of known better. Should of contained myself. I try so hard for you, but there's times it feels like it isn't enough, and it keeps me up at night."

He sniffs, and your eyes begin to blur.

"I never wanted to be like that in front of you, you didn't deserve to see that. I-"

He wipes his hands over his face, taking a deep breath as he tries to collect himself. After a beat, he uncovers his face and finally looks at you.

"I'm sorry."

It was like a spell had been broken. You found yourself pushing a food to the side and leaning against his shoulder. He hesitantly wrapped his arm around you, and when you didn't resist, he reached his other arm around you, pulled you into his chest, and began softly rocking you back and forth.

You feel the rise and fall of his chest, and it feels the same as you did as a kid when you would run up to him when something scared you, or when you felt your emotions overwhelm you. He would hold you tight and it felt like you were in the safest place in the world. The relief of that feeling after everything you had been through was like coming home.

Still safely tucked in his arms, you spoke again, voice more quiet and child-like than you meant it to be.

"Promise me you won't do that again."

The mere thought of him acting so uncontrollably and violently towards you was enough to make you nauseous.

He squeezed you tight.

"I promise, kid, never again."

You nodded, unable to reply. The both of you stayed like that for what felt like an eternity before he slowly began letting you go.

After getting fully untangled, you rub your eyes, a feeling of exhaustion settling in as your stomach rumbles.

"I'm hungry."

"Hi hungry, I'm Ben."

His reply is so quick, you think it's automatic for him.

You shoot him a glare, but it's undermined by your smile. He returns it with one of his own.

"You wanna go down and eat? I got you a milkshake too, it's down in the kitchen. But might be a bit melted by now."

You spring up, fast food bag in hand as you make your way towards the door.

"Why didn't you say so, let's go!"

You hear him let out a chuckle, and you let out one reflectively, too.

You both share the meal together, talking and laughing late into the evening, until it was finally time to sleep. You drifted off easily into a deep, restful sleep, finally at peace.

[slayfics]

Camboy Katsuki.

Warnings: NSFW | Katsuki aged up

1,500 words~

Chapter links

Chapter 1

You locked your bedroom door and sat on your bed. Placing your headphones into your ears you opened your laptop and logged on to a familiar site.

You already felt the stress of the day start to leave your shoulders as the website loaded. Your eager eyes met with the flashing GIF Live now.

No matter how many times you click on Katuski Bakugo's live cam page your heart never fails to flutter.

"Ah it's you- back again so soon you dirty slut," he grumbled into the mic. Katsuki was laid back sitting in his chair with just a muscle T-shirt and boxer briefs.

You bit your lip watching the boy on screen already feeling your heart rate increase from the sight of him alone in his room and his provocative words spewed at you.

"Well don't be so fucking shy, you're the one that came here to talk to me say something," He spoke into the camera.

You nervously typed into the chat box, "Hi Katsuki".

"Hi? Is that all you have to say? No one else is on right now. It's just you and me, alone. So, are you sure that's all you want to say to me?"

You bit your lip harder and typed, "You look so fucking hot sitting there half nude."

"Ha! That's more like it, I knew you were fucking filthy. You've been coming here almost every day. Can't get enough of me can you?" He laughed. His laugh was a low sexy laugh that sent shivers between your thighs.

You typed out, "You already know I'm obsessed with you."

"You've got good taste," He laughed again, causing you to tighten your thighs together. "Well, it's just you and me right now, so tell me. What do you want me to do?"

Your hands began to shake as you typed. You had never been alone in the chat room with him before. You usually watched as others gave him demands. "Play with your bulge," you typed out.

"You fucking whore, you would want to see me play with myself. You already know that's going to cost you," He spoke, responding to your chat message.

You sent over a tip in the chat causing Katsuki to smile.

"There you go, such a good kitten always obeying me," He said as he grabbed at his bulge squeezing it between his palm and fingers. "Bet you want to know what it feels like don't you?" He said almost in a whisper, his husky voice grumbling in his throat.

"Yes please," you typed out eagerly.

He palmed at his bulge in slow exaggerated moments letting out hard breaths as he did, "Hmm- you're so dirty. You want to imagine grabbing it with your own hands, don't you? You want to feel as it grows with each of your strokes. Until you have the full length of me in your hands. Then what? Hm? What would you do with me then?" He teased as he continued to grab at himself.

Your heart continued to beat faster in your chest as you thought of a response, "I'd want you inside me," you typed out.

"Hm- you don't waste any time do you?" He laughed as he grabbed himself, his bulge now fully grown. "Look at that, hard just for you. Now what?" He asked with a smirk on his face.

"I want to see all of you," You typed.

"Then you know what you have to do," He responded.

You sent another tip through the chat.

"Perfect," he grumbled as he took off his shirt. He pulled down his boxer briefs allowing his dick to flop out and rest on his abdomen. "How is this view?" He asked with a smirk on his face.

You felt your whole face flush, his words ringing in your ears through your headphones. You clawed at your own clothes trying to get them off.

"So hot," you typed into the chat.

Katuski smirked reading your comment. "You're turn, what are you doing?"

You froze at his response. Katsuki never asked questions like this to his viewers before. Was it because you two were alone?

"Don't be shy, tell me what you're doing. Are you touching yourself? Imagining me inside you? I bet you'd feel so good stretched around me," He said, each word dancing in your ears causing you to shudder.

"Let me see you slide your hand up and down yourself so I can imagine you inside me," you typed and sent another tip.

Katsuki smirked and slowly ran his hand up and down the length of his dick as he eyed the camera. Even though there was no way for him to see you, it felt as though he was looking directly at you. "I bet you look like you're starving for me to touch you. Lips puffed out, hands shaking. You'd love me to fucking take you wouldn't you."

"God yes I want you to take me so fucking bad," You typed back.

"I bet you dream about it, wake up to a mess in your panties about it, don't you? I bet you can't wait to fucking get home to see my face on your computer. Do you think I haven't noticed how consistent you are? You've logged in every day for the past 72 days to watch me cum. I bet you know the shape of my cock even better than I do at this point," he spoke as he continued to run his hand slowly down the whole length of himself.

"I have the look on your face when you cum committed to memory, I think about it every time I touch myself," you typed, your excitement washing away any nervous reservations you had before.

"Who are you, hu? What do you look like? So many other regulars have sent me direct messages with pictures. I want to see you," He grumbled and took his hand off of himself.

You felt a cold sweat come over. He- He wanted to see you?? Your heart began to beat out of your chest.

"Come on- don't be shy, be a good little kitten, and show me what that face looks like. I want to see who I've been cuming for the past few months. I'm not going to keep touching myself till you do," He said.

You were forced to oblige. Your addiction to Katksui was so strong, that you'd do anything he'd ask if he was holding pleasure over your head. You grabbed your phone and covered yourself skimpily with a sheet snapping a seductive picture quickly. You sent the picture to his direct messages on the app and waited with bated breath.

"Holy shit-," He said, eyes widening as he opened his phone to view your picture. "You're fucking hot as hell, what the fuck are you doing on a website like this, hu? You could get plenty of guys to rail you in real life," He said, looking up at the camera and setting his phone down. As promised he began to run his hand up and down his dick once more as he waited for you to respond.

Your heart felt like it skipped a beat at his compliment. Did he really mean that or was he just doing fan service? "I only want you to rail me," you typed out back to him.

"I fucking would," He grumbled, pulling harder and moving faster up and down his dick. "I'd fuck every one of your pretty holes babe."

"I bet your dick would feel so good inside," You typed back.

"Damn- you've been this dirty the whole fucking time," He said starting to pant at his own touches. "You need to speak up more often in the chat babe."

"I like that we're alone right now. I don't want to share you," you replied.

"Well, I'm all yours right now. What do you want me to do, hm?" He said as he kept his swift pace moving his head up and down his full length.

"Cum for me," you typed out.

"A cum shot? Before anyone else even logs on? I don't know kitten, that's gonna cost you a lot," He said.

You sent over an extra large tip.

"Damn, beautiful and rich? How the hell did I get so lucky? You got it, babe, just for you." He spoke and began to move even faster, squeezing himself tighter. His panting became heavier leaving you mesmerized watching his chest rapidly rising and falling. His moans ringed through your headphones giving you a euphoric rush on their own.

"It's going to be so much easier to cum now that I know that sexy face is behind that camera," He said, eyeing directly into the camera. His gaze was piercing and full of lust.

"Say my name when you do," You typed out and sent another tip.

"Fuck you're dirty~" he said, his pre cum beginning to lube up his strokes. His dick shined as his hand moved from the tip to the base in rapid movements. Katsuki rested his head back in his chair. A movement he always did when he was reaching his limits.

"Damn, this feels extra good today," he spoke with barely any breath continuing his strokes. "You feel so good," He said head back and eyes closed, speaking just for you, just this once. "Fuck," He muttered and moaned out your name as his release spilled all over his abdomen.

Shout out to the anon that gave me this idea for Muichiro. I had to write it for Katsuki as well.

Tags~

@unofficialmuilover

[pinkaditty]

Holidays with Ghouls (Sho Haizono x Reader; Tokyo Debunker)

please read:

okay. big news + life update: i got into a major car accident a little while ago. my first one ever! i am in a lot of pain so things may be slow-going for a while and ill be unable to commit as much time to writing due to the tangled mess that is dealing with modern insurance companies and recovering from my injuries. thankfully its not so bad to be hospitalized, but its bad enough to limit my activity for the time being. i am somewhat ashamed to ask, but if you like my writing, please consider donating to my cashapp: $cindyfromstarbucks! my car was 100% totaled, and im gonna need to save up for a new one, and my job doesn’t pay very much. thank you for your consideration! please enjoy, regardless! (this paragraph will be on my posts indefinitely, probably until i fully recover)

a/n: LET ME START THIS OFF BY SAYING IT’S ENTIRELY SELF-INDULGENT… i have a green thumb and i’ve been growing a small garden lately (limited space. i hate captialism.) and i just thought “hm. what if we grew fresh ingredients for sho’s food truck?” and the idea stuck and didn’t leave no matter how much i tried 2 shake it off. mc is basically written as me im not gonna hold y’all, but i kept it 2 a minimum so it could still be an ‘x reader’. 

summary: self-indulgent reader x sho. in which you do something nice for him and he struggles to return the favor. 

no cw! enjoy!

big fan of the “woman that is so wound up all the time and extremely professional and tries to keep everyone at arm’s length distance” x “guy that is only a few years younger than the woman but loves calling her by age-appropriate honorifics (i.e. noona, ojou, jiejie, madame, etc) and goes out of his way to teach her how to fucking relax every once in a while” trope and essentially if i were with sho that is how the relationship would go LMFAOOOOOOO

You used to have a bit of a garden before becoming a student at Darkwick. A part of you often wondered if there were people tending to your garden now so you could return to it, well kept and exactly as you remember it, when you were cured of this curse and got this anomalous ring off of you. You'd never really had the idea to plant anything here; you were much too focused on missions and other incessant errands the ghouls saw fit to send you on. You didn't like it, but held your tongue regardless. If all went well, you wouldn't have to deal with this after less than a year. 

You were fond of a few ghouls, though. Some of them were a nice reprieve from the other harsher and more selfish ghouls. Haku was a great example of that, and so was Subaru, his dorm's captain. You'd grown fond on the Jabberwock ghouls, as they were always kind and polite. You didn't really mind the Obscuary ghouls, either. Even if odd, they were good natured, and never turned you away. You appreciated that Rui had a bit of a green thumb too, and would often stop by to assist him with plant care. 

The one ghoul you were the most fond of, despite his less than agreeable best friend, was Haizono, or Sho, as he insisted on being called. Sho, despite his friend Leo, was actually pretty friendly. You enjoyed the time you spent around him, whether that was collecting supplies from the diner, or training with him, or even helping him meal prep for the following day for his food truck. It was fun, spending time with Sho. You're almost angry the idea didn't dawn on you sooner.

Said idea is why you carefully sift through the dirt in your compost container, careful not to split any of the worms with your nails. The potatoes should be done growing by now. The idea had dawned on you one day when Sho mentioned not having enough potatoes to serve fries the following day. Potatoes were an easy crop. And they took three months, at most, to grow. Sure, if worse came to worst, you'd die, but growing potatoes was a good distraction and encouraged you to plan for the future, as though you wouldn't die. After a few favors from Benji and some begging towards the chancellor, you had a small garden behind the chapel. Granted, you'd just started it three months ago, so it wasn't as full as your garden back home, but it was good enough. It was hidden from the rest of campus by the surrounding trees, ensuring no one would find the garden unless they had reason to cut around the chapel, which wasn't necessary considering the path out front. Not only did it serve as your little place of respite, it allowed you to do nice things for others. You were just growing potatoes for now, but it felt like enough of a starter, at least. You’d just planted some tomato seeds that you’d hoped Sho would also find a use for. 

Once done harvesting a substantial batch of potatoes, you wrap them up in plastic bags to look like you bought them. It would save you the embarrassment of having to explain that you’d grown them yourself. 

It’s pleasantly chilly outside, the still afternoon air heavy with promises of cold weather and a white winter holiday. Dirt remained underneath your fingernails from all that harvesting, but it was a small price to pay. Your heart pounded with anticipation and exertion as you made the trek to Vagastrom, heading for the nearby food truck. As expected, you find Sho sitting on one of his supply boxes, far underdressed for the cold weather. You can’t tell if he’s resistant to it or rebelling against it, but you can tell he’s cold. His cheeks and nose are tinged red and his eyes are squinted against the cold wind. You can even tell he’s sniffling with how often he inhales. You exhale both fondly and exasperatedly. The stubbornness of these ghouls was simultaneously attractive and irritating. 

You make it no secret you’re approaching, the bag of potatoes crinkling with your upbeat steps and your own runny nose sniffling in response to the cold wind. You place the bag of potatoes beside him with a heavy ‘thud’, to which he finally looks up, appearing jolted out of his thoughts. 

“Here,” you start, taking your scarf from around your neck and tying it around his without waiting for a reaction. “You must be an idiot to sit out in the cold with just your uniform on.”

“Senpai.” He greets you with wide eyes, watching but not protesting as you tie your scarf around his neck. He appears confused at first, his lips pursing at your actions, but seems to relent as he buries his face into the scarf. You watch as he settles into it, his eyes sliding shut against the cold wind, his nose and lips finding warm solace in the comfort of your scarf. Before long, he pulls it away, revealing himself back to the chilly air with a slight wince. “...No need. Thank you, though.” He glances up at you with a smile before rising to his feet and dusting off his knees. “Whatcha got here?” He gestures to the plastic bag before picking it up, far more effortlessly than you, and inspecting it. 

“Potatoes.” Your breath puffs out in a white cloud. “They’re for your food truck. I remembered you mentioned you were running low, so… I decided to help and buy you some.” At some point, you’d shifted your attention to the ground, toeing at a rock as you realized how ridiculous that sounded. Surely Sho could handle himself. He might even find your help embarrassing, when you really think about it. 

You sneak a glance at him and are relieved to see a small smile on his face as he observes the potatoes. He huffs out a light breath, his face visibly softening. “You didn’t have to do that.” He slings the bag over his shoulder, using his other hand to ruffle your hair and return the scarf. “Come on,” he turns around, headed for the door of the food truck. “You can help me prep.”

‘That’s only helpful if you’ll have any customers in this cold,’ you think to yourself, but decide not to say aloud. Instead, you watch the slow smile on his face as he nods towards you, and continues towards the truck. Crazy, how a simple glance of his could make your heart race. Something about the warmth of his smile, the feel of his fingers carding through your hair, and the leftover scent of his cologne lingering on your scarf tugged at your heart, just a little bit. 

You briskly follow after him, throwing the scarf back over his neck. “Keep it,” you say sternly, watching as he turns to you quizzically. “Have you seen the state of yourself in this cold?” The phrase ‘I want you to have it,’ lingers on your tongue, but you decide not to voice that, instead letting a small amused smile rest on your face. You vaguely gesture to him, your gaze flicking to his red cheeks and nose. He rolls his eyes, noting your point, and keeps the scarf around his neck, opening the side door to his food truck.

“Alright, fine. I’ll wash it and return it.”

As he steps inside the food truck, even from standing behind him you feel a wave of warmth. You follow, stepping inside, feeling the sweet relief of pleasant warm air and smelling the scent of roast chicken. The environment is warm and cozy, wrapping around you like a cushy blanket or a hug from a loved one. Sho closes the door behind you and you note your scarf is still around his neck. Something clicks.

“Wait a minute. You won’t need that.” You point to his scarf, your nose crinkling in mock displeasure. He instinctively flinches away, looking at you with a raised brow. He was seemingly already protective of your scarf, even though he’d only just received it. “Hand it over.”

“That’s hardly fair.” A crooked smile forms on Sho’s face and his brow raises higher. “Why do you assume I won’t need it?”

Indignantly, you gesture to the warm space surrounding you. Sizzling meat, a warm oven, and heaters in a corner, adjusting the temperature of the truck. “Vagastrom is literally right next to here. What do you need that for?”

He doesn’t answer directly, instead tilting his head at you. “I seem to remember a certain someone insisting I keep this scarf. Are you going to go back on your word?”

You clamp your mouth shut, remembering what you’d said and did earlier. He was right, you had insisted, even if only a little. You huff out a frustrated breath, crossing your arms and furrowing your brows. He laughs at your display, pulling the scarf off of him and tossing it on a high shelf of boxes you couldn’t reach. “Like I said, I’ll wash it and return it.”

You decide to swallow this loss. You had other scarves at the chapel anyway, and if he was going to use it, at least it wasn’t going to waste. 

You look around the space again before taking off your coat and hanging it on one of the hooks on the door. “Any plans for winter break? Will you be going anywhere?” 

“Nah.” Sho shook his head, checking on the chicken in the small oven before continuing to stir fry a vegetable medley on the stove, jutting his shoulder out towards the cutting board, covered in various vegetables. You wash your hands before heading over, carefully scraping at the dirt built up under your fingernails from digging. “Unless my… brother… goes, I’m not going. He’ll beat my ass if I don’t and he does.” A look of displeasure crosses Sho’s face, and you have to hold back a laugh at the thought of Professor Hyde chastising Sho for not seeing his family over break. 

You head over to the vegetables laid out on the cutting board, and start with the garlic, peeling it out of its husk. “Sounds like a struggle.”

He scoffs, pouring soy sauce over the vegetables and tossing them before scraping them off on a nearby to-go container. “Holidays are always a struggle with pushy family.” Despite his outward scowl, amusement lights up his eyes for a moment. 

You chuckle, having finished chopping up the garlic and moving to a green bell pepper. You slice it open, its seeds spilling onto the cutting board. “Your family’s pushy?”

“Yes, too pushy sometimes.” Sho shakes his head, shooing you to the side as he grabs potholders to pull the chicken out of the oven. “My brother’s more like my parents than I am.” He carefully places the roast chicken down on a short counter. It’s golden brown, stuffed with rosemary sprigs, lemon slices, and garlic cloves. 

He places it to the side, readying the frying pain and reaching for the peppers you’d chopped, tossing them into the oil. You finish a pepper and reach for a leek next, slicing it into thick chunks. Your eyes flicker back over to the chicken momentarily, rosemary stems sticking out of it like a tail. “The rosemary stems look like a chicken tail.” You voice the thought absentmindedly, smiling to yourself. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Sho glance over at the chicken himself. You hear a huffed laugh as he returns his attention to the peppers, sizzling in the oil. “Yeah, it does.” He’s silent for a moment before speaking up again. “Speaking of, it was hard to find fresh rosemary this time around.”

You look up, having finished cutting the leek. A confused expression crosses your face. “Where in the world would you find fresh rosemary in the dead of winter?” You look away, reaching for a carrot, slicing it thinly.

“Rosemary’s an evergreen,” Sho states flatly, reaching for the leek and garlic you cut earlier, mixing it in with the batch of peppers on the stove and stirring them. “You can find that fresh anytime. What’s harder to find, however…” Sho trails off, leaving the stove for a split second, reaching for the bag of your potatoes he’d placed on the ground earlier. He opens the bag and pulls one out, some dirt still stuck in the indents of its skin. “...Is fresh potatoes. They’re typically harvested in the fall.” He smiles at you, before turning away to rinse it off.

Realizing you’d been caught in a lie, you turn away from him, putting all of your focus on the carrot in front of you. You hear his footsteps slowly approaching before he places a freshly washed potato right in front of you, his hand shaking with mirth. 

“Come on, MC. Don’t think I didn’t notice the dirt under your fingernails.” He chuckles before turning back to the stove, stirring the vegetables again. You drop the knife with a clatter and hide your hands behind your back, too nervous to check if you’d missed any spots. 

You sneak a glance up at him, mistakenly making eye contact with him. His eyes gleam with amusement and his smile is soft and fond. “...It can’t have been that obvious.” You decide to admit to it, realizing the heat in your cheeks probably gave it away. 

“It wasn’t.” Sho nods to you, pouring soy sauce over the stir-fried mixture and tossing it before scraping that off in a different to-go container. “I just happened to notice the dirt when you handed the scarf to me, and your potatoes smelled extra earthy.” He takes the pan off the heat, moving over to the chicken and carefully cutting out the breast. 

It’s silent for a few moments, you staring at that freshly cleaned potato and Sho slicing through the chicken, placing the breast in one to-go container and the wings in the other. Sho finally speaks up, though his voice is low. “...You didn’t have to do that, you know.” You look up again, just to find him turned away from you, his ears turning red. Silence falls again as you watch him check off the to-go containers he’s finished. You assume he’s trying to distract himself from the obvious blush on his face, but you can’t say for sure. Something about it makes you feel similar, your heart rate picking up and your face reddening more. It wasn’t due to your embarrassment anymore. “I dunno, I’m bad at thanking people. Just, well…” Sho trails off, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck, hiding his face from you. His voice lowers significantly, and contrastingly, the blush on his ears brightens more. “Thank you. I know potatoes take a while to grow. And…” He trails off again and swallows thickly. You don’t bother asking him to finish his sentence. The implications of his words grow somewhat heavy in your heart, and you wring your fingers nervously. Of course it was profound, growing potatoes for someone when you’re doomed to die, now in nine months. The thought of dedicating your time to anything that wasn’t curing your curse was odd, but this distraction had done you well nonetheless. You didn’t want Sho to feel bad about it at all. You were certain that, if anything, the gravity of being recognized by a girl doomed to die was dawning on him. 

The words spill out before you can really stop them. “Don’t worry about it, Sho. I did that because I wanted to.” Confessing this was almost as raw as confessing your feelings, and your chest tightens at that thought, but you continue despite that. “You’ve been kind to me since after our first mission. And I’ve enjoyed spending time with you, including things as mundane as meal prep!” You gesture vaguely to the setting before you, hoping to get your point across. “I just randomly had the idea, and figured it couldn’t be so bad to act on it. It’s been a good distraction anyway, and what with all that happens here, a distraction does me some good.” Silence falls once more, and Sho finally turns to look at you, face flushed. He wipes his palms on his apron and worries his lip between his teeth, his gaze flickering between you and the floor. “...So what if I used up three months to grow potatoes? The time will pass anyways.” You turn away from him, looking at the washed potato. You reach for it and pick up the knife, beginning to cut it into cube chunks. 

“...I guess you’re right.” You can hear a gentle smile in Sho’s voice, and it warms you up internally, feeling thankful he’s accepted the gift. You glance towards him, giving him a smile, and catch him staring. There’s an odd glimpse of admiration in his eyes, which makes your cheeks warm.

“Go on and finish cutting the chicken.” You wave off his stare and jerk your gaze away from him, hiding your blush and focusing on the cubed potato. 

He scoffs and turns away, picking up his knife. “Giving me orders in my own kitchen, huh?” 

You don’t respond. You don’t need to. The warmth of the heaters settles into your skin and the warmth of the previous pleasant conversation settles into your heart. You glance down at the bag of potatoes that started it all. The eyes of the potatoes seem to stare up at you knowingly.

You’re carrying a short stack of to-go containers outside to Sho’s bike, Bonnie, your boots crunching the frosty path beneath you. Snow would surely be coming soon. You gently place the stack in the box on the back of Bonnie, careful to make sure none of them tip over. You hear more crunching footsteps and turn around to see Sho, carrying the rest of the boxes. He places them in the box as well and organizes them before securing the box with a few straps. He steps back and exhales, smiling to himself. You can’t help but smile at his pride.

“Now, to deliver these…” Sho approaches Bonnie and gets on, patting her twice affectionately. The gentle thrum of the engine comes to life in response. He looks to you and smiles, and you notice he’s wearing your scarf. “Sure you don’t want a ride back to the chapel?”

You eye the box of food already on the back of Bonnie and shake your head. You wouldn’t test fate today. Your eyes find your scarf again, sitting snugly around Sho’s neck. “Well, at least you have a use for it.” You say, resigned. Part of you wonders if you’ll ever get it back. 

Sho smiles, reaching up to touch the scarf. “Again, I’ll wash and return it.” He looks up to the sky, and you follow suit, noting the pale white blanket of clouds blocking the sun. “That said…” He starts, lowering his gaze to you again. “It is cold out. I may need this for longer than I expected.” There’s a teasing lilt to his voice and his smile turns crooked, as though suppressing a smirk. 

“...I’m not getting that back, am I?”

Sho shrugs, revving up Bonnie. “Who knows?” He smiles fondly at you one last time before speeding off, the wheels of Bonnie leaving tire tracks on the frosty path. You watch him as he leaves, his hair lifting in the wind, the tendrils of your scarf billowing behind him. You watch until he turns a corner and you can only faintly hear the rumbling of Bonnie’s engine. ‘I guess he really did have customers, even in this cold…’ You think to yourself, a faint smile growing on your face. You inhale the crisp cool air, feeling a bit cooler around your neck now that you’re missing a scarf. You idly look back up at the sky again, wondering if it really would snow today. Despite you enjoying the stillness of the winter air on Darkwick campus, the cold eventually bites at you, urging you to return to the chapel. Your footsteps crunch along the frosted path, following Bonnie’s tracks.

It’s Christmas evening, and things are finally winding down for the day. You’d been to Frostheim and made snow angels with Luca and Kaito, had coffee and played chess with Tohma, and Jin, despite himself, hadn’t asked you to run any errands for him today. You’d been to Vagastrom and exchanged gifts with Alan, tolerated Leo’s selfies with you, and looked around for Sho, but hadn’t found him. You’d been to Jabberwock and fed the animals with Haru, watched a romance movie with Towa, and played a holiday-themed horror game with Ren. You’d been to Sinostra and done some gambling with Taiga while Ritsu tagged along to ensure Sinostra’s reputation wasn’t damaged further, and had a surprisingly pleasant conversation with Romeo despite him saying your large coat made you resemble a slug. You’d been to Hotarubi and had tea and holiday sweets with Haku, Subaru, Zenji, and Lyca, who was visiting Subaru. You’d been to Obscuary and had Rui’s new holiday-themed drinks with Ed, chattering time away at the bar. You’d been to Mortkranken and reluctantly exchanged gifts with Yuri, aware of the fit he’d throw if you hadn’t gotten him anything, and pleasantly exchanged gifts with Jiro, reminding him to take good care of himself. 

Finally, after a very long, exhausting, and eventful day, you were back at the chapel, counting the vines growing under your skin, glowing lavender like the flower on the back of your neck. Some small flowers broke your skin and bloomed here and there, leaving the exit wounds somewhat inflamed. Granted, you didn’t have much time left, and these vines made that clear, but this holiday had been much better than you’d expected it to be. You appreciated the effort most of the ghouls put forth to make this holiday at least somewhat enjoyable for you, especially considering it may be your last. 

You sit by the fireplace in your room, watching the snow fall from the sky through your window. You had a tiny pine tree near your bed, decorated with handmade tinsel from the three Hotarubi ghouls and some small ornaments from Jin. You wore new pajamas from Romeo, though you weren’t sure how in the world he knew your size. You had a new bracelet from Taiga, who had originally forgotten who he’d gotten it for. On your nightstand lay a dreidel from Kaito and a snow globe from Luca. The hot chocolate you sipped on was a gift from Tohma, and some wine awaited you in your fridge, a gift from the Obscuary ghouls. You had a few new ugly holiday sweaters from various ghouls, Yuri and Ren included, and some not-so-ugly ones, thanks to Haru and Towa. A thick, heavy book about the origins of the laws of Japan sat on a nearby table, a gift from Ritsu that you had no plans to read. You had lit a scented candle from Leo, which you thought was surprisingly thoughtful, and had set aside the wax melts from Alan, planning to use them after the candle ran out. The new watch from Jiro was wrapped around your wrist, displaying the increasingly late time. In all of this, you wondered where your gift from Sho was. You hadn’t been able to spot him today, and the thought made you feel a little down. You’d wanted to spend some time with him today, but guessed he was probably too busy preparing Christmas dinner for all of Vagastrom and Hotarubi that he simply hadn’t had the time. You set your hot chocolate down on top of the accursed thick book and sprawl out in your chair, turning to the window again. Regardless, this had been a surprisingly wonderful holiday. The ghouls had given you gifts and willingly spent time with you, doing various fun activities and filling you with holiday cheer. It was a nice escape from the reality of your situation, even if it was only for a little while. 

You check the vines under your skin again, resisting the urge to scratch at where a new white flower had bloomed near your elbow. You could feel that, soon after the holiday season mellowed down, it would be back to reality, and you’d have to face your own death once again. Part of you dreaded the eventual change in weather and in the length of days, knowing your predicted end was growing near. But a part of you was also resigned to it. Regardless of whether you were due to die soon or not, this had been a nice holiday. And you could stand to live in the now, just this once. 

You carefully pluck the flower from your skin, wincing at the sharp pain. You bleed for only a few moments before it clots up. At least you could stave off the growth of the curse for now. 

You hear a gentle knock at your door. Physically, you’re too exhausted to have much more fun at this point, but mentally, you could use a pick-me-up. You head down your stairs towards the door, opening it crack by crack, trying to prevent too much of the cold wind from slipping inside. You peer through the open doorway, jolting in surprise when a familiar pair of dark blue eyes meet yours. 

“Hey,” Sho starts, lifting two boxes in his hands. “Thought you could use a warm holiday dinner.”

Your heart swells and all at once, a wave of emotion hits you. Sure, you didn’t have much time left, but that didn’t stop these ghouls from caring, and that was evident in the gifts piled up in your room, the fun you’d had all throughout the day, and the ghoul now standing at your doorstep, seeking more time with you. There was a reason he was your favorite. 

You swing the door open wider, unable to hide the smile that breaks across your face all at once. “I was looking for you, you know.” You cross your arms and narrow your eyes in mock disappointment. “Where’ve you been all day?”

“Cooking.” Sho lifts a brow and shrugs, tilting his head at you. He smiles fondly at you, and you notice he’s finally dressed appropriately for the season; a hat covering most of his hair, a matching coat and gloves keeping him warm, and your scarf, tucked snugly against his neck inside his coat. Yet again, you realize you are probably never getting that scarf back. 

“That scarf is still mine.” You gesture at his scarf, and he laughs, reaching up to brush the built up snow off of it. 

“And I’m still using it.” He replies, smiling wider. “So… Gonna let me in or what? It’s cold out here.” His breath puffs into white clouds, and you notice his cheeks and nose are tinged red again thanks to the cold. You smile and step aside, letting him in. 

You close the door behind him and he shakes off the snow built up on his coat. When he looks at you, his smile holds the warmth of a thousand candles and his voice holds the joy of a thousand holiday carols. “So… got any mistletoe? If not, we can start with gifts. Either works for me.” A blush covers his face as he pushes the boxes towards you, his smile growing wider and fonder.

You figure, regardless of how much time you have left, it wouldn’t hurt to spend a holiday with your favorite ghoul.

Bonus:

The gift, wrapped surprisingly delicately inside one of the boxes, is a knitted scarf in your favorite colors. It’s not bad, but you can tell it was done by a beginner. Holding it in your hands, a small smile grows on your face, and you sigh, totally resigned. 

By god, you are never getting that scarf back. 

“Well, thank you for your collateral replacement, but I expect that scarf back one day.”

Sho shakes his head, smiling as he chews on your shared meal, packed in the other box he was carrying. “No can do. It’s still cold and I still need a scarf.”

“I’m withholding the mistletoe, then.”

Sho huffs, rolling his eyes and continuing the meal. At his lack of a reaction, you purse your lips, thinking of another thing to withhold that might gift you a victory. Sho speaks, having swallowed his mouthful, “I can find other reasons to kiss you-”

“I’m withholding the potatoes.”

Sho looks at you in shock, dropping his forkful back onto his plate. “...I’ll think about it.”

Maybe you would get that scarf back, after all.

----------

a/n: it's done. finally it is done. finally! i've been writing this romance fic 4 a long while so im glad it is finally done

thank you all so much for reading!! as usual, i love likes, but especially comments, reblogs, and asks detailing how much you enjoyed my work!!! please feel free 2 fill up my inbox with whatever, i love talking 2 u all! but be warned my responses will be slow... im still recovering!

happy holidays 2 you all! i hope, whether you're surrounded by family, friends, or by yourself, that it's a wonderful and fulfilling holiday season 4 u. merry christmas 2 those who celebrate, and happy kwanzaa 2 those who celebrate that as well!! not very well versed in other winter holidays, but may they be joyous and merry!

[pinkslaystation]

[Part 3] If I meant something to you.

toxic!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Here's Part 1 and Part 2 hehehe enjoy ;> Word Count: 5k trigger warning: drugging. viewer discretion is adviced.

Dating Simon reminded you of the British economy, constant fluctuations.

He would stay over at your flat, shower you with wet kisses, and the next day he'd walk right past you as if you didn't exist.

It felt like at times Simon did really love you. He listened you to, he brushed and plaited your hair post sex, but sometimes it's like his brain would switch and his behaviour would mimic that of a ghost.

Though it been nearly 3 months since he'd popped that question in the car, you often found yourself regretting your decision.

"I do like him...but I mean- it's just, he doesn't like me back you know? Sometimes I wake up and he's just staring at me like I've just told him I've killed his dog. I mean, he doesn't have a dog I don't think, but if he did, he'd prefer the dog over me, y'know.

I don't even know why I said yes that day. I mean, he's the first real guy that's actually shown interest in me. Maybe that's why I crave his attention so much. He makes me actually enjoy being with my family, if that's so hard to believ-"

"With all due disrespect, d'ya know you?" Your neighbour answers finally.

You stare back, blood rushing to your face, "I literally live next door to you. I smile at you before I leave for work every morning-"

"So, there's nothing wrong with your face?

"What? You know me- and I'm talking about Simon, he's next door to me too..."

"What?"

"You know skull face..."

"Who?"

"Tall buff dude, y'know."

"Huh?

"Riley-"

"Oh, the guy with the big dick."

You choke on your saliva, "What- How? Um..."

"Military dude yeah? The fit blonde? Yeah, he's big, if you get what I'm saying, virgin."

You furrow your eyebrows, words trailing off, "No I'm not...I'm sorry, how'd you know..."

"Yeah, he's fucked like everyone in this building, girl. Why d'ya think he doesn't come to the flat meetings? 'Cos then he'd be surrounded by all the people he's stuck his dick in, duh." She states like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "Guy comes in, drinks a bit, and runs out."

"...I thought it was because he was nervous to see....me?" At this point, you don't know if you're telling your neighbour or asking her.

"Oh girl don't be delusional, you ain't no Beyonce. Anyway, been a while since I got that dick. Let 'im know next time you see 'im." She winks at you before, hobbling off with her walking stick.

"Yeah...sure...wait- Mrs Brenda, you're like 65... AND MARRIED-"

When the 3rd month anniversary mark finally reached, Simon decided to treat you to an expensive meal at a luxurious restaurant.

And by that I mean, 6 McNuggets at Maccies.

"They're cold, babe." He complains, slouching across you, one leg bent and propped on his seat.

Yes, Simon. Because you spent 15 minutes arguing with the worker for an extra packet of mayo. But you refrained yourself from saying that, in case you'd anger him further.

"So how's the task force?"

You've learnt very little about Simon, one part that stuck out to you was that the people he was closest to was his team in the military, naming his Captain John Price, who seemed to pop up in every conversation the two of you had.

"You got that 'lil mustache on yer face again."

"Excuse me?"

"Nah babe, it's cute. Reminds me of Captain's."

It hurt even more when he showed you a picture of John Price and you're face to face with a middle aged man with a full grown beard, who's being compared to the peach fuzz on your upper lip.

"Team's good." He sighs out of exhaustion. "Soap's engaged now, y'know."

You smile, mind suddenly racing to the thought of Simon proposing to you, but you shake it away, oddly cringing at the thought.

"'Old man's thinking of getting transferred to the States. Finally..."

The thought of Simon being jealous over his Captain was always a hidden theory for you. He'd mention it so frequently, it was as if he was keeping tabs on his superior, bringing it up at every moment at his signs of weakness. And when he'd compare Price to you, it was never in a positive light, rather one where it felt like he was looking down at Price, but through you.

You wondered if Simon had a superiority complex, and maybe that's why he'd chosen a little naive lamb like you, to project all of his insecurities onto you.

I mean, you're not gonna do anything about it are you? Nah, you're gonna take it like the good little girl you are.

I mean you are right now- literally.

His dick is cramped right in your pussy, his rounded tip rapidly kissing at your cervix. His chapped lips crash against yours, but you can't seem to ignore the faint taste of his Big Mac through his mouth.

"Can tell your cunt likes that, 'lil slut." He seethes out, through inconsistent breaths. You can barely hear him, through the sound of your sweaty bodies colliding and the ringing through your head.

You hum uncomfortably. It was gonna be a long night.

The following weekend, you find yourself spending eons getting dolled up for a get together at the base. You decorated your face with a bold smokey eye, paired with a lined red lip, only to be mocked by Simon.

"Red? We're going to base, not the circus."

So you take off the lipstick. And the eye makeup. In fact, even when you changed from a tight black pencil skirt to a matching sweatshirt and joggers combination, you still find yourself being berated by Simon.

"Getting kinda lazy with the clothes huh, love?" He asks, cocking his eyebrows towards you.

Is he for real?

Grunting in response, you look out the window, shoving your headphones in, grateful for the noise cancelling feature so you wouldn't have to sit through Simon's mouth breathing throughout the journey.

The meeting itself was as awkward as imagined. The moment the pair of you entered the room, Simon decided to detach his arm wrapped around your shoulder and immediately brisk walk to the nearest woman possible. If he was trying to fool his team to thinking he was single...boy was he good at it.

Being left out in an unfamiliar space was unfortunately not too foreign for you, and you quickly found solace by the water fountain, sipping on a plastic cup of lukewarm water.

"Bored, eh?"

You jump, having zoned out.

You turn to a man you've seen oh so many times on Simon's phone.

"Captain John Price?" You smile.

"The one and only, lass. My, a pair of sweatpants. Priorising comfort, are we?" He jokes, lightly.

"Were you expecting lingerie?"

"Pretty either way." He chuckles, and you eye the way his eyes squint as he smiles, and the smile lines painting his cheeks. You shouldn't be looking at your boyfriend's competition captain this way.

You're at peace with John. You find yourself opening up about yourself, something you now know you couldn't truly do around Simon. John cared about what you said, reacting to every joke you dropped here and there, unlike Simon, who plays connect the dots with your forehead blemishes as you rant passionately.

John chuckles, "Oh God. Work sounds intense."

You hum, admiring his laughter, which cuts off to the sound of a loud buzzing (buttplug?) coming from his back pocket. He excuses himself from the conversation, but you can't help but eavesdrop.

"John Price speaking. Yes. Uh huh-what? Another soldier? Same substance? Christ's sake...Doctor's got a name? Succiny- Succinylc- what? Okay, okay. I'm coming, gimme 20 minutes-what, now? I'm...busy" He turns to flash you a small smile, "Okay, fine. Dammit."

"You okay, seemed urgent?"

He dramatically sighs, "We both got work problems...There's been a...how do i say this...another one of our soldiers have been getting drugged?" It sounds more of a question than an answer, "We think it's some sort of new drug on the black market, and now that our enemy's have a hold of it, our soldiers...fuck, getting drugged left, right and centr- Sorry, um, unauthorized information..." He trails off, realising he's said too much.

You're ears perk up, "Drugs? What are the um, symptoms?" You can't help but be curious.

John looks around, as if to check if anyone was listening to the conversation, though most people are hammered on hardcore liquor and cigarettes. He lowers his voice, "Starts off with headaches, nausea, then there's seizures...worst case scenario is paralysis. Gotten 4 of our soldiers already, poor men, had to be medically dismissed...."

You hum, silently and unsure of what to reply with. If you were attempting to flirt with John, the mood had definitely dissipated.

"But hey, listen. You ever need a change of pace, a better job, you can call me." He grabs your hand, and messily writes his phone number with a biro, winking before he leaves.

Maybe you will call him.

As the sky becomes darker and the clock strikes past 9 P.M., you find yourself walking outside the building, searching for Simon.

"...annoying."

Huh? You peer over the corner to overhear the conversation. Was that Simon?

"..follows me around a sad 'lil shit."

Was he talking about you?

You catch a quick glance, confirming that it was indeed a drunk Simon, with who you believe was Soap.

"Her mum's hotter, too. All over me." Simon boasts, whipping out his phone, presumably to show them a picture of your mother, as it sparks a 'milf alert' comment from Soap.

"...nothing compared to her. She's like a doormat."

You look at Simon, and for a second, you swear he made deliberate eye contact with you.

"She's fuckin' spineless."

For a moment, time pauses.

...

Spineless.

You're spineless.

I mean, it may be true. But the truth doesn't always have to come out, no?

After doing so much for this man, you'e still...spineless?

Laying at the comfort of your bed, dragging a tipsy Simon out of the car and him rushing to his flat, you find yourself gazing down at the smudged ink on your palm. Maybe it's time to switch your job.

Who knows who you'll run into...

That night, you rest, dreaming about John Price.

You're in an abyss in your dreams, John's pale muscular arms wrap around your frame, with the faint scent of cigars and whisky wafting around your nose. You blink and you see the bottom of his groomed beard, and small smile resting on his tired face.

You blink once more. But this time, you don't see John Price. This time, you're staring into the sullen eyes of a skeleton-masked man, lifelessly staring straight at you with no emotion. You look down the body of Simon.

The lower half of his body was missing.

By the third blink, you jolt awake and look around, but this time you're on the floor wrapped in your quilt and covered in sweat. Very much alone.

What was this dream trying to tell you?

The jump from retail to cyber-operations was large and challenging. You went from serving customers to quite literally serving the country, from scanning items to defending the weapon's system. But 2 weeks into your new career and you feel like you've actually put your degree to some use.

Your family have been ringing you almost weekly, asking about your new position, although it's mainly your mother interrogating you about Simon.

And to say he was upset with your choice of working with the army, was an understatement, in his words, he felt like you were crowding him in all areas of his life. His home, his workplace, and now his mind.

You'd ask him to drop you off, considering he's going the same way, but he'd come up with unjustified excuses.

"Can't. Need to be there early."

"Nah, gonna distract me, love."

"Can't be seen with you." He mutters the last one, but you're not deaf and Simon can't exactly whisper very well. Sometimes you wonder why you haven't broken up with him.

So you've resorted to the next option.

Public transport. Calling John Price.

"You're not a burden, sweetheart. Who's been tellin' you that?"

You subordinate <3 But you can't say that, so you resort to casually laughing at his question. You can't help but think about the reoccurring dream you've been having, they always start the same.

You're in a abyss, and you're in the arms of John Price, you blink and suddenly face to face with the half-corpse of Simon. You're struggling to work out the deeper message of the visio-

"Love, you there? Went to lala-land or something?"

Think about John Price. Focus on him, why are you still bound to that jerk? You think.

"I'm good. So uh, how's the situation with you? And the um...drugs thing?" You look at him, your words surprising yourself, since when did you have an interest in drugs?

"Oh, uh. We're not allowed to disclose that sweetheart...besides, Simon didn't tell you? Kinda big thing here..."

Of course, Simon wouldn't tell me, why would he? You tell me, John.

You give him your best puppy dog eyes, eyebrows knitting together, "Oh..."

He runs his thick fingers through his brunette hair, adjusting himself in his seat, "Succinylcholine. There's a mixture, but that's the main component. Causes paralysis to the legs and spine...seems like that's what they wanted, to paralyse our soldiers, 7th victim this we..."

Paralysis huh. You turn to look at the passing trees outside the windows. Paralysis to the spine and legs...

By the time you reach work, you're at your computer by your desk, typing away at the lines of code on your programme, once again eavesdropping to the conversations in your vicinity.

"...it's the same location they keep getting deployed, why are they getting deployed there again?"

"Captain Price is going this time..."

"...2nd guy's in a coma now..."

The chatter dies down to the loud slam of the door: Your supervisor.

"People. Come on. Chop chop, we have deadlines to meet. Stop the chatter, fucks sake."

You get back to your screen, but you can't help but shake the unsettling feeling off your mind.

Ding!

11:26 A.M. Si:- Come outside on your break. Need to talk.

I guess you're finally breaking up.

"Getting deployed."

Simon's scarred hands caress yours, gently lifting your ring finger and slotting a shiny silver ring, with a skull stuck in the center. You think back to the times where you told Simon that you preferred gold jewelry over silver, since it complimented your skin tone better. To love is to be seen I guess.

A crowd of soldiers begin whistling at the scene, and Simon retracts his hands almost instantaneously.

"Wanted to give this to you for anniversary...but I ordered it a little late."

You hum, immediately twisting the ring around your ring. It's tight and cramped.

"How's work?" He asks, his eyes roaming around the people behind you, his gaze not falling on you once since the conversation had started.

"Oh it's goo-"

"Cool. So um, here's my key if you need something." He hands you his key, more like shoving it into your chest, before pressing a chaste kiss on your forehead and running off towards the crowd of soldiers that were now practicing drills.

Seems like you've gotten promoted from girlfriend to house-keeper.

By 8 P.M., you and a handful of your colleagues began to go home.

With your 4th cup of caffeine in your hand, you check Simon's text once more.

7:52 P.M. Si:- What time u finish Si:- 8? Si:- Too long to wait, going home

He couldn't wait 8 minutes?

As you trudge past the empty hallway, you're met face to face with the door of the lab, which you notice was half open.

You felt like a character in Alice in Wonderland. Trespassing is a crime, is it not?

A normal person would just inform a staff member and go home right? Definitely wouldn't enter the room. And definitely wouldn't head straight towards the counter that held various labelled test tubes.

Definitely wouldn't snatch a test tube labelled danger, and most definitely stuff it in their bag and run out the door, as if they haven't basically committed a crime.

But it's a good thing you wouldn't consider yourself a normal person.

The wind blows against your skin when you finally make it outside, and it feels like natures punishing you for breaking into the army's laboratory. With your bag clutched tightly against your chest, your mind begins racing - what if someone saw you? What about cameras? What if-

"There you are love. Thought I'd have to come 'n get you myself."

John leans against his range rover, wrapping his large military jacket around your shoulders, and you instantly lean into his towering frame.

"John...didn't you go home?"

He shakes his head. "Saw Simon speeding off the moment we finished, thought you needed a ride, especially at this time."

The wind blows against you again, and your smile falters, remembering the contents of your bag.

"Can we go home now? Please?"

A comforting silence accompanied the drive, with John's palm ghosting your thigh ever so slightly and you had to resist every urge in your body to just lock hands with him.

So you do.

His large hand encompassing yours completely. If his grin could widen anymore, they just did, and you swear you could see faint dimples decorating his cheeks.

But they fall just as quickly, jerking his hand back.

"Nice ring."

You're visibly confused, eyes dragging back to the tight skull band wrapped around your ring finger.

Fuck you, Simon.

When you exit John's car at the entrance of the block of flats, your eyes catch another deep brown pair of menacing eyes, standing at the balcony, hiding behind a black balaclava. You can't see the lower portion of the face, but you'd bet your life that there was a smirk hidden behind the cloth.

You grit your teeth, tossing the ring by the nearest bush as the car drives off. The grip around your bag tightens, and you remember the test tube.

If you're going to ruin my chances of love, I'll ruin your chances of life, Simon Riley.

A week later and the test tube lay aimlessly on your bedside time, alongside a small post card gifted yesterday from your truly. John Price, that is, not Simon.

Leaving soon - If I find something you like, I'll bring it for you :-D - J Price

Even the way he drew his little smiley faces warmed you.

On the other hand, Simon had shot you a single text, ignoring all the spelling mistakes.

Si:- bee home ina mont. by.

When he gets home, you're immediately breaking up with him, assigning yourself mental homework.

But for the meanwhile, you have to decide what to do with the test tube...for now you decide it's too risky to keep it at home, who knows if the wrong people get their hands on it.

So you opt to shoving into deep into your purse.

At work, as you walk back to your team's common room, you hear the commotion coming from the...laboratory?

"Doctor, how careless are you?"

"Sir...I-I-I didn't do anything! The lab was locked, I don't know who would have taken it-"

"And how are we sure you haven't stolen it? I mean for all we know, you might have the drug at home. How do we know you're a traitor and working for the other side. I should have you reported."

"Boss, you've known me for the longest! And why don't you stop shouting me and get these cameras fixed already-"

"Captain Price's gonna flip and fire his entire team when he comes back-"

"If he comes back that is-"

"Boy if you don't shut your mout-"

Scurrying to the common room, you shut the door abruptly. You don't why you stole the drug, but you do know you can't let anyone find out about what you did.

Not Simon.

Not John.

A month had nearly gone by, and a train of gifts has began coming, from small affirmation notes to bags of lego flower bouquets and teddy bears. All of course, accompanied by a small note with the signature smiley face :-D.

Considering the notes weren't hand written, you couldn't tell whether it was from Simon or John, though it was quite obvious. Even though you liked John, you couldn't help but feel some sort of sorrow towards Simon. I mean, who else does he have apart from you?

On a dark Friday evening while you and your team were getting ready to leave, the sound of shouting followed by stampede coursed through the hallway. Screams of terror broke from whom you made out to be doctors and nurses.

"What's happening?" You turn to your coworker.

"More people have gotten drugged, like 7 this time..."

You couldn't help but feel a wave of guilt washing over you, considering a sample of the weapon of the crime was quite literally concealed with your belongings.

"Oh -"

"Apparently, Captain Price and Liutentant Riley were involved."

That was enough to strike a nerve. You don't know which name hit you harder, but before your colleague could even stop you, you began sprinting down the hallway towards the hospital rooms.

By the time you reach though, it's already too late, and the doors have shut, the nurse informing you that surgeries have already begun undergoing. But for who, they didn't disclose.

It didn't matter who it was, you just had a reoccurring thought that if maybe you had left the sample alone, maybe a curve could have already been developed.

Oh God, this is your fault isn't it....?

A person's going to die in your hands, and you're not even a soldier.

With discomfort running through your nerves, you sit by the hospital rooms, your hands feeling heavy under the weight of your head, waiting to hear more from the nurses. But as they rush in and out of the room with urgency, your voice gradually drowns out by the monotonous beeping of the machines inside.

4 hours go by, and you can't tell if it from the lack of sleep or not, but the staff around you shoot you looks of pity as if you're in critical condition. Those hours in the waiting room felt like hell, and you couldn't help but notice the lack security in the building. No cameras again, huh?

"Nurse, is John Price in there?" You ask wearily, the strain in your voice was evident.

The nurse shakes her head, "It's Lieutenant Riley."

Your breath hitches, and unfortunately you can't help but a slight feeling of relief.

"Is he okay? Was he...drugged?"

The nurse clenches her jaw, "That information can't be disclos-"

"He's my boyfriend." You urge, standing up to meet the nurse eye to eye.

The palpable tension in the air was uncomfortable and pervasive, hanging over the room like a heavy fog, and the nurse eventually breaks, slowly opening the door to what looked like a corpse.

"No traces of the drugs were found in his body, but there's no way to really say in the early stages...He is displaying some symptoms however..." She reads off a clipboard.

You nod, though her words aren't really getting to your head, "Like...paralysis?" There's no movement from the bed, just the constant ringing from the machines.

The nurse pauses, "No. Headaches, and muscle pain, just the regular. Bullet shot in the shoulder, but that's been taken care off. We're still monitoring him. I'll be outside if you need anything." With that she leaves, shutting the door behind you. And you find yourself alone with Simon's corpse.

Simon's face looks like broken china, like fine art but damaged externally, yet still holding the essence of its beauty within. His features, usually composed and serene, now bore the cracks of strain and worry. His under eyes were now darker than ever, and you couldn't help but press your now tear soaked lips across his rough cheek, until you stopped.

His neck, though scarred, bore scattered red marks, which you know could be confused with a rash. But it wasn't.

They were hickies.

Fresh hickies.

It's been a month since you've last seen Simon, so you immediately rule out yourself, disregarding the fact that you haven't even been intimate with anyone in a while.

As you sit beside the bed, a surge of anger rises within you, fueled by the betrayal and disappointment coursing through your veins. You want nothing more than to confront Simon, to unleash a torrent of accusatory questions upon him, but you know it would be futile.

His chest rises and falls gently, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within you.

The situations looks like that particular scene straight from your dreams. Dark room, alone with Simon, him laying there still.

His body is still intact, you think. Intact and littered with marks.

You try to recall what happens in the dreams after this, but you always wake up at the last second.

And you can't help but inch your hand towards your purse., the outline of the test tube screaming at you to finally use it.

Use it for the reason you had originally stolen it for.

Use me.

Drug him. It screams. It's not like he ever loved you? Francesca, remember her? The other women? Your own mother, your own flesh and blood? Think about the times he forgot your anniversary, your birthday, when he insulted you, in front of you, in front of others, hell, even behind your back! You're spineless remember.

I mean you'd be doing the world a favour, getting rid of this from this world, wouldn't you?

Wouldn't you.

John Price would be proud of you wouldn't he?

He finally be with you.

With a steady hand, you reached into your purse and retrieved the test tube, its contents glinting in the dim light of the hospital room. You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest, before steeling yourself and uncapping the tube.

The acrid scent of the drug filled the air, its toxic fumes making you gag slightly. But you pushed past the discomfort, focusing all your attention on the task at hand. With precision, you extracted the entire liquid from the tube and carefully poured it into Simon's IV drip, mentally wincing at how effortlessly you had manipulated the situation.

You have to get rid of the drug somehow, and if it means using it against him, then so be it.

The next morning had come and you're awaken by the phone buzzing by your bedside table, the screen lighting up with John's name. You hesitate, your fingers hovering over the screen for a moment before you finally answer, steeling yourself for whatever news awaits you on the other end of the line.

"Hello?" Your voice comes out strained, betraying the anxiety churning within you.

"Hey angel, it's me," John's voice crackles through the phone, the urgency in his tone palpable. "You need to come to the hospital. It's Simon."

Without a word, you hang up the phone and hail a cab, the journey to the hospital passing in a blur of anxious thoughts and racing heartbeat. Did they find out you stole the drugs? No...how could they? The empty test tube is in your bin, at home, not at the hospital and there's no cameras at you recall...

Arriving at the hospital, you're met with a scene of controlled chaos. Doctors and nurses bustle about, their faces tense with worry. You navigate through the maze of corridors, the familiar scent of antiseptic hanging heavy in the air.

Finally, you reach Simon's bedside, and what you see makes your heart drop into the pit of your stomach. Simon manually lies propped up against the pillows, his face pale and drawn, his body racked with violent tremors as he retches into a basin. The sight is enough to make you physically ill, although it slowly dissipates, seeing the now purple marks on his necks darkening.

John appears beside you, and without a word, he takes your hand in his, his grip steady and reassuring, pressing a small kiss at the side of your head. In that fleeting moment, the world falls away, leaving only the two of you suspended in time.

"I'll be outside," he mumbles, leaving with you with Simon.

With a heavy heart, you take a seat beside him. Simon looks up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of confusion. It takes all your strength to meet his gaze, the truth burning like acid on your tongue.

"Hey." He groans out. He can barely move, as his head painfully cranes to look at you, the effects of the drugs taking effect slowly.

"What happened." But it's more of a demand than a question.

Simon sniffs, "Traces of drugs..."

"No. I meant your neck."

He pauses, like he was trying to carefully choose his words, though he didn't have much of a escape now.

"Don't act like I see you and Price-"

"Don't bring him into this, Simon."

Don't lie to me anymore.

A tear rolls down his cheek, but you can't tell if it's crocodile tears or not.

"They-they... dismissed me."

You hum, a smirk gradually building up on your face.

"Why?"

Simon closes his eyes, "Back. My spine. Can't move it..."

You let out a slow, deep breath, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you like a heavy stone.

"I know." Your voice is barely above a whisper, but the words hang heavy in the air between you. "I drugged you."

Simon's eyes wince once again, studying your face silently.

"Excuse me?" He begins.

You stand up, placing your purse back on your shoulder.

"What- what do you mean? You he-heard me? Love. Listen to me-"

You walk towards the door.

"WAIT. Wait. What do you mean you knew? You said you knew. What. What did you do. Sweetheart. Come back. Let's talk. You love me don't you? I love you! Where's that ring I gave you?"

You laugh, twisting the door handle.

"Baby, you better not fuckin' leav- THEY'LL FIND OUT-"

"And who's going to believe a damaged, deluded man, Simon Riley? You were out on a mission, I'll pin the blame on the enemies."

Simon shakes in his bed, unable to control any part of his body now. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME- HOW FUCKIN' DARE YOU- After that life I gave you-"

"Life? You call that living?"

"I LOVED YOU WHEN NO ONE ELSE DID-" His voice is painfully loud now, you're wondering how no one's running to his room already.

"Love? You don't know one thing about love, you fucker."

"I should have never fucked you, you- YOU BITCH-" He shouts, his body flailing violently, globes of tears racing down his clenched jaw and red cheeks.

"Rot in hell Simon Riley, I guess we're both fucking spineless now."

And that's a wrap for this mini seriesss - thank all of you for sticking around ;D IM AWARE IT TOOK SO LONG- I KEPT WRITING IT AND FOR SOME REASON IT DIDN'T AUTOSAVE LIKE TWICE??? SO I HAD TO REWRITE IT- Quick Notes: Let's all be real. We wanted reader to get with ol' john boy. But let's also be for real, if Reader was an object, she'd be a doormat. Although I've implied John Price x You, the bitch really needs to focus on herself and sort her shit out right now 💀 in the near future they're together for sure. ALSO the reference of drugs is highly inaccurate but let's all switch our imaginations on <3 lemme know you're interested to be tagged in my future posts! tags -> @lilliumrorum, @kxtz3, @poohkie90, @rainlovesyou12 , @restrictionsapply-blog , @lunamoonbby , @nigthmar3moon , @thychuvaluswife , @itsnourm , @bubusi11, @owkittie, @cheomain , @corvusmorte , @k4es , @mandythemint , @copiasratscheese , @yyiikes , @funkyyysho3s