#it’s like brother bear if the big bear was an asshole

[24hrsoda]

clownhunter and ghost-maker’s relationship isn’t really father-son to me it feels like…the step-brother neither of them wanted but begrudgingly spend time with and occasionally realize sometimes they enjoy spending time together.

other times they don’t like being associated with each other. it’s not outright hate but there’s some kind of cringe factor to being known as a relative of that guy (it goes both ways)

and there’s definitely a few “yes he’s an asshole/little shithead but only i can think that about him” moments

[gracieheartspedro]

Dagger In The Heart

pairing: ellie williams x afab! reader

post about palestine - please be aware and know who your content comes from. this post informs you about the tlou writers and creators, as well as how to help the Palestinian people.

word count: 6.1k words

warnings: MINORS DNI!!! 18+ ty!!! abusive relationship mentioned, reader's bf is a cheating asshole, calls her names, makes comments about weight, talks of cheating, some lowkey cheating from reader, sharing clothes with ellie, ellie is 18+ but her age not specified, talks of hardly eating food at dinner, reader is a bit confused with her sexuality and wants to explore (which is fine!!! and normal!!!), wlw relations, pussy eating, fingering, tribbing, tattoos? lots of tattoos, dirty talk, reader being a bit desperate, getting caught (but not really), mentions of a strap, men being drunk and stupid. that's it. I think.

description: when you get the chance to meet your asshole boyfriend’s family, you take a liking to his sister, ellie. when a conversation about her tattoos turns into talks of what you’re really into, you can’t help but want to explore it more.

author’s note: hi girls, gays, and theys! I am so happy to be bringing this request to you. it was an anon request from july and I just suck at getting my life together to actually write. but here we are. FYI, I don't condone this behavior or cheating. anyway I hope you enjoy. I will also be putting this on my ao3 soon, so if you see it there, don't worry, it's just me (;

“You gotta chill, babe. Your anxiety is giving me anxiety.”

He was never very good with comforting you, so you bite back your snappy comment and just fake a smile.  

You had been dating your boyfriend Matt for almost a year. You two met in your college biology class and really bonded over your love for folk music and Greek food. He had kind eyes, mousy brown hair and the brightest smile you had ever seen. 

At first, you thought this was the best relationship you ever could ask for, but Matt grew distant after four months together. You didn’t know why, but his temper had shown itself one too many times. He fought with you constantly. He was quite jealous. You could never be seen with another boy without accusations of cheating. But every time you two argued, he always came back with an apology and a bouquet of flowers. You could not help but believe you could fix him. 

It had been 10 months, you had to brave meeting his family. Unlike you, his family lived two towns over and he visited them quite often. He was close to his younger brother and mom, so he made a point to see them as much as he could. 

He brought up the idea of meeting them back around the holidays, but you were planning to board a flight and visit your family across the country. He understood but was pretty disappointed you could not try his mom’s infamous pumpkin pie.

You had no excuse when summer came. So here you are, standing with him at his childhood home’s front door as he scrambled to find his keys. 

You were sporting something more dressed up than your normal. Matt loved this one black dress on you, so you decided to wear that with some cute flats. You were sorely regretting the shoe decision, the pointed-toed shoes squeezed your big toe and the arch was not high enough to be comfortable. 

He unlocks the deadbolt and the red door jolts open. You are instantly met with the scent of BBQ and cornbread. His childhood is cozy and lived in. The entrance is lined with shoes, everything from high heels to sneakers that have run through countless puddles. It was a sigh of relief, they were a no-shoes in the house family. You kick off your uncomfortable shoes, holding on to Matt’s shoulder for balance. 

His mom is the first one to enter the hallway to meet you two at the door. She is quite beautiful, her hair darker than Matt’s. She was shorter, wearing a nice blouse and jeans. She welcomes you both with a bear hug and cheers of excitement. When she pulls you out of the embrace, she gets a better look at you. 

“You are more beautiful in person, pictures do not do your gorgeous smile justice,” She remarks, squeezing your hands. 

You shake your head, trying your best not to let out that you are beyond nervous about this entire encounter. “You are too kind, thank you so much for hosting us.”

“Come meet the crew!”

Matt eyes meet yours, noticing how tense you are. You had hoped for him to hold your hand and guide you through this experience, but instead he just nudges you with his shoulder. He brushes by, heading after his mom. 

The hallway opens into a kitchen and living room, which is littered with random strangers who, in some way, resemble your boyfriend. 

His brother, Collin, stands up first from the barstools, racing over to your boyfriend to dap him up. When he glances your way, you just smile and introduce yourself. He extends his hand to shake yours, which you gladly accept. 

His dad is next to stand up from a recliner in the living room. He makes your acquaintance quickly, telling you he’s so glad to finally meet you after months of hearing all about you. 

When he moves away from in front of you, she comes into focus. You had not even noticed her sitting on the couch across the room. 

She’s slender, her dark locks framing her chiseled jawline. She looks like Matt, but more like a person who belongs in a Renaissance painting. Her eyes are a more dimensional brown. She has freckles scattered around her pale complexion, which only added her beauty. 

You do not realize you are gawking until Matt nudges you. “This is my sister, Ellie.”

You blink again, bringing your focus back to the situation. She extends her hand, and that’s when you take notice to her tattoo-filled arms. Her tank top raises a bit and you catch a glance of her midriff, exposing more tattoos littering her abdomen. 

“Nice to meet ya. Heard plenty about you.”

You swallow, taking her hand and shaking it. “I hope good things.”

“No, I only tell her the worst things about you.”

Everyone giggles except you and Ellie. Luckily it is filling the room with enough noise to drown out your thoughts about your boyfriend’s beautiful sister. 

Ellie rolls her eyes before whispering, “Don’t worry, it’s only ever good things, sweet cheeks.”

-

Matt’s dad loves to talk and you can tell it annoys Ellie. You were seated outside on their patio set, drinking some homemade lemonade Matt’s mom was adamant you had. He was helping her with all the sides that were still yet to be made, so you took up Ellie’s offer to check out the backyard space. You did not expect Matt’s dad to come with you two and tell you all about the flower beds he curated. 

But you listened, smiling and nodding while sipping on your tart drink. 

He got occupied with grilling, so you and Ellie were left on the couch near a very used and abused firepit. 

You wait for her to say something. She was truly making you nervous, her eyes trailing you every so often. 

“So, you and Matt met in science class?”

You finally look back at her wandering eyes, “Yeah, he was my biology partner.”

“Gotcha,” She leans forward, putting her elbows on her knees. You do not know what comes over you, but you cannot physically pull your eyes away from her arms as they flex. “You good?”

“I like your tattoos,” You barely manage to say, “They are… hot.”

You want to jump into the unlit firepit for that one. 

No other adjective came to your horny mind? Really?

She giggles, enjoying watching you practically squirm under her gaze. “Thanks, dude. My ex girlfriend was a tattoo artist so I let her practice on me.”

You remember a moment about 5 months ago when Matt mentioned his sister being gay, but for some reason, you finally connect that duh it’s Ellie, you fucking idiot. 

You also remember some choice words he had about her. You remember cringing when he called her a slur and said she could not keep a girl to save her life. You held your tongue and refused to reply.

“That’s awesome,” You scoot closer to her, bridging more of the gap between you two on the couch, “Which one is your favorite?”

She smiles at your intrusion into her space and questions. You realize you two are almost sizing each other up, right in front of her family, your boyfriend’s family. They could easily peek outside of the kitchen windows and see you two eye fucking each other. She leans back, her eyes tracing all the tattoos on her arms. 

Then she laughs. A deep guttural laugh. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” She brings her front teeth down on her bottom lip before speaking up again, “It’s a tattoo I can’t show you.”

“Why not?”

She looks towards the window, checking on her brother and mom. Her expression changes when she turns back to you. 

“Because I’m not pulling my tits out in front of my family.”

Your pussy practically pulses when you hear her say it. What is wrong with you? You are dating her brother. What is wrong with you?!

“Your… boobs are tattooed?”

She nods slowly, bringing her one hand up to your bare exposed thigh, “Bet that shakes a sweet one like you to your core.”

The comment insinuates that you are an innocent little girl who knows nothing about the world. And sure Matt is your first real boyfriend. Sure he was the first person ever to eat you out because your high school crushes did not even know that was a thing. Sure you never have been sexually promiscuous. Sure you thought you were straight. 

Sure.

But something inside you was crawling its way out. This small interaction with your asshole boyfriend’s sister was enough to send you into a spiral. You never gave a girl a chance so how were you supposed to know you did not like it?

“What if your family wasn’t around?”

Ellie is gobsmacked by your comment, her jaw practically hitting the floor. You can tell she realized she was flying too close to the sun. She pulls her hand away from your leg. 

“You are my brother’s girlfriend. I am not going to be the one to corrupt you,” She states, scooting over a bit away from you. Your cheeks get flushed, instantly feeling embarrassed for asking such a question. But the more you sat in silence, the more you realized that you really did not care. The feelings Ellie made you feel within the last 10 minutes were more exciting than any feeling Matt had given you in 10 months. 

You clear your throat, “Luckily for you, Ellie, you would not be the one to corrupt me. That has already been done.”

She looks at you quizzically, “Is that so?”

“Yeah, I may look sweet and innocent,” You creep in close to her, “But I am really a freak.”

Now you are just lying. 

Before she can utter a word, Matt’s brother comes out to let you two know dinner was done. You hope and pray he didn’t take notice to how close you two were. Or how Ellie stared at your ass as you walked away. 

-

You sit between Matt and Ellie at the table. 

Every so often during the meal, you would place your hand on Matt’s leg. He would push you away, rolling his eyes when you glared at him. When the conversation came around to him, he would find a way to demean you and then continue blabbing about school or his internship. 

You answered questions from his mom and dad, but you were sorely uninterested in them. But then the conversation comes around as to whether you two would be staying the night tonight. At this point, Matt had already had four beers, and you knew he probably would not want you driving his new Mustang. 

“You can take Matt’s bed and he can sleep on the couch,” His mom suggests, indicating that you two would not be sleeping together. You understood that they were a bit more traditional, but you were not expecting to sleep in your boyfriend's childhood bed without him. 

“That’s a great idea, Ma. We can stay, right?”

You look at the plate of practically untouched food in front of you. You just nod, finally saying, “As long as you give me some comfy sweatpants to wear.”

“Mine are all back at my apartment, but I’m sure Ellie has something you could borrow. Plus, you probably wouldn’t fit my sweatpants.”

Matt constantly made comments about your figure and how he could not share clothes with you. He refused to share his clothes with you, stating that you would not be able to squeeze into them and you also “left your scent on everything”. 

God, he made you feel terrible about yourself. 

Butterflies erupt in your stomach when you think about wearing Ellie’s clothes, though, and you completely drown out the separate conversation happening around the table. You feel a hand creep up your thigh, but it's not coming from the side you expect.

Her hand is so soft and delicate as it creeps up your leg. You cannot help but glance at her direction, catching her smiling over at you. 

“Don’t worry, I got something you can wear.”

-

Dinner finishes up and Matt expresses that he wants to go for a round of drinks with his high school friends and brother at the local tavern down the street. He never asks if you want to go, telling you “It would just be high school friends that you don’t know, anyway.”

He tells you that his Mom and Ellie would get you all set up. He gives you a pat on the back, and heads to the door, right behind his brother. You watch him leave and almost breathe a sigh of relief. 

When you turn back, you see his Mom already going upstairs. 

“I’m gonna get your bed all set up and then I’m probably going to retire to my bed, too.” She states, slowly making her way up the wooden staircase. 

You wanted to scream because this only meant one thing. You were alone with Ellie. 

You follow her up the stairs and look around the hallway. She heads to the right and begins pointing at the only room with the light on. You didn’t even know that Ellie was upstairs.

“Have Ellie get you something to wear, I’ll make up your bed!”

The door swings open and Ellie stands there, having changed into her own bedtime clothes. And for fucks sake, she’s not making this easy for you. 

She is sporting a tight white tank, no bra, and shorts that ride up to the very tops of her thighs. Her legs are tattooed as well, but not as much as her arms. There isn’t a touch of her freckled skin that isn’t marked with art. You can almost see through her shirt, making your mouth go dry. 

“Let’s see what you fit into!”

She lets you into her space. Her room is decorated with posters of space and heavy metal bands. From the looks of one corner of her room, she’s an artist. She has different art styles, anywhere from charcoal to watercolors, littering a desk and her walls. It’s messy, but it’s not dirty. It smells like incense and clean laundry. 

She walks over to her dresser, opens up the top drawer. Everything is neatly folded, which kind of surprises you. 

“I have some sweatpants, shorts, boxers-“

“Sweatpants are fine,” You retort, not wanting her to list off anything else, “Do you have any t-shirts I could wear?”

“Well of course I do, sweet cheeks. What do you want, loose or tight?”

You stare at her dumbfounded. You know what she’s doing. And you hate yourself for liking it so much. 

She pulls out a pair of navy blue sweatpants, still waiting for your reply. 

“Loose.”

She starts to dig through another drawer when Matt’s mom pops her head in. 

“It’s all set up for you, sweetheart. If you need anything, you let one of us know. I’m going to downstairs if you need me.”

You smile, thankfully. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Williams.”

“If she needs anything, I’m sure I could help her find her way,” Ellie says, absentmindedly. She pulls out a white t-shirt from her drawer and tosses it at you. 

“Goodnight, girls!”

And then you two are alone. Ellie slowly saunters to her door and shuts it. 

“You can get dressed here. Just make sure what I gave you fits.”

You silently turned your back to her, tossing your hair over your shoulder. “Can you unzip me?”

You are not even thinking straight. You are so caught up with being alone with the girl you have had weird sexual tension with. She walks over to you confidently, before grabbing the top of your black dress, which lands right at the middle of your back. She pulls down the zipper, ensuring it reaches the very end of its track. 

The hairs on your back stand up in her wake. You breathe deeply, before shimmying the dress off your shoulders. You were wearing a bra, so you were just going to keep it on. You step out of the dress, leaving you in just underwear and the push-up bra Matt gifted you not too long ago. 

You don’t turn to her, but she just comes around to your front, nonchalantly. 

“Jesus Christ,” Ellie stammers, before plopping on her bed. You shakingly step into the sweatpants she gifted you to wear, unsure how to respond. You rack your brain trying to gain the confidence you had before dinner, but your mouth is dry and your brain is dazed from seeing Ellie in her pajamas. 

You finally manage to glance up at her hungry eyes, smiling softly. 

“I never knew I would be jealous of my brother.”

You swallow, “Jealous?”

“Yeah, he gets to have someone like you every night and I can’t even find someone worth hanging out with around here. Never thought a nerd like him would win over a woman like you.”

You are standing in the sweatpants and your bra, not able to digest her words completely. A woman like you?

“Your brother is sweet. And we don’t have sex every night.”

“Just sweet?” She steps a bit closer to you, “And I said nothing about sex, darling, I said he gets to have you.”

She is looking at you like you are her prey. You almost fell to your knees and begged her to put you out of your misery, but you resisted. Instead, she just stands up, trying to catch your nervous glances. 

“H-he, uh, does what he can, when we d-do, yanno.”

Her fingers trace up your arm, her eyes trailing as she does it. You bite the inside of your cheek, waiting for her response. She clicks her tongue a couple of times, shaking her head. 

“I am sure he tries,” She sputters, standing back from you, “Do you even really like him?”

You furrow your eyebrows, suddenly snapping out of the situation you are currently in. You reflect for a moment.

Matt was an asshole but you sometimes enjoyed his company. He made you laugh on occasion. But deep down, you knew that he wasn’t made for you. He lacked emotional intelligence and made sure to put you down any chance he got. You had inklings he was talking to other girls and his friends were probably the most intolerable people on your college campus. And then there was that one time when the inklings were just. 

The realization that you maybe didn’t like him made you sick. You wasted so much time and now you have met his family.

“When he’s not mean to me. When he isn’t cheating on me.” You admit quietly, almost too humiliated to say it. 

She crooks her neck, “He cheated on you?”

You hate talking about it, it made you feel as though you were never good enough. He made it out that it was your fault because you would not have sex with him when you had the flu. “It was just some hand stuff, baby,” he said to you. 

“Just once. I forgave him because he told me he loved me.”

“People who love you don’t hurt you like that,” Ellie says without a beat. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Is he mean to you all the time?”

You think back to the last nice thing he said to you. Your ass looks fat in that dress. And even that could be seen as a bad thing. You shake your head, trying to find a good way to paint her brother. From the looks of it, she doesn’t really like him all that much anyway. 

“Most of the time.”

“So, what I’m hearing is my brother is an asshole that doesn’t know how to treat a woman both in life and in the bedroom. Is that what you’re saying?”

You stand there pondering her question, coming up with nothing. She was right, but were you ready to admit that?

So you shrug.

Ellie stands with her arms crossed now, chewing on the inside of her lip. She’s contemplating something, her eyes falling to the floor for a moment. 

“Listen, I am not just saying this because it has taken everything in my power to resist sinking my teeth into you,” The first half of the sentence put your heart in your throat. Nonetheless, she carries on, “But I have an inkling that you don’t like my brother at all. I think you like girls and you’ve never had the chance to explore that. You want to say you are a freak, but you really don’t know what that even means.”

“Ellie, I d-”

“You need to break up with my brother,” She states plainly, “And then, after all is said and done, I can show what it looks like to be taken care of.”

You agree, sadly. You do need to break up with Matt. And on the basis that you believe that he’s probably at the bar hanging out with old friends, probably with other girls, probably flirting with those other girls. You decide you are not going to wait anymore. He cheated on you once, what’s stopping him now? Ellie was right about everything, and while that revelation changes your entire perspective on life, you settle on jumping head first. 

“Show me now.”

You watch all the blood drain from her face. She fumbles with her inked hands, waiting for you to say you didn’t mean it. That moment never comes. 

“Are you sure about that?”

Swallowing hard, you just nod. You do not even realize what you are getting yourself into, but the undeniable chemistry cannot be ignored anymore. You don’t even want to waste another thought on Matt. You know if you think too hard about it, you’ll talk yourself back into staying with him.

Ellie’s face gets closer to yours and your lips connect seamlessly. She wastes no time, bringing her hands down to your waist to pull you in. You wrap your arms around her neck while fireworks erupt in your chest.

Her lips taste like mint and a dab pen your college roommate made you hit a couple of months ago. She was borderline intoxicating. 

She backs you up towards her bed, letting your knees hit the edge of the mattress. You plop down, disconnecting from her lips. 

Through hooded lids, she asks you, “Do you want to see my favorite tattoo, then?”

Your breathing hitches as she does not even wait for a response, she just pulls her tank top over her head.

Each piece is connected somehow. Her stomach piece is what appeared to be a dragon flying up towards her under-boob area. It was extremely detailed and took up a large half of her upper stomach. Around her collarbones were very intricate lines that almost rain over her body like veins. They spread down her chest onto her boobs, where around her nipples were two matching daggers appearing to go through her areola. 

You smirk at the idea that these are her favorite tattoos. The cheeky ones around her tits.

“Holy shit, Ellie.”

You reach out and touch her tits, ever so delicately. You use your finger to outline the daggers, smiling to yourself. 

Being this close sends a pulsating feeling down to your pussy. You have never felt a lightning strike quite like it before. 

She’s letting you feel her up, but when you change your tune and start pinching at her nipples, she throws her head back with a groan.

“Hmm, you should try putting one in your mouth,” She remarks, hoping to God you would be eager enough to do so. She was very in tune with you because you leaned forward taking her right nipple into your mouth. She’s guiding you around every turn, whispering how good you are doing already. 

You release her with a pop and sit back. You reach around to release your own, but she stops you. 

“Lemme do it,” She says mounting your lap. You place your hand on her hips while she runs her fingertips across your back. She unhooks your black bra, letting your tits spill out. 

You feel the tops of your hands stand up as soon as her hands begin to knead your tits. You glance down at her movements, watching your sensitive nipples perk up due to the attention she’s giving them. 

“Mmm, you like that, sweetness?”

You just groan, your lips needing to do more than just talk. You pull Ellie’s ajar mouth down to yours, diving your tongue between her teeth. You never had such a hunger for anyone else. No guy ever made you feel this way. 

She nudges your shoulders, having you fall onto your back. Her lips move away from yours and start to trail down your neck and chest. When her wet mouth touches your tits, you cannot control the sounds that leave your throat. She bites down on your supple skin, which makes you groan more. 

“You gotta quiet down a bit. Don’t need anyone hearing us.”

You try to manage your noises, but as soon as she starts to kiss down to the hem of the sweatpants she loaned you, you know you’ll never be quiet like she needs you to be. She tugs at the waistband, taking your underwear with it. 

You are now butt naked on her bed. And god, the air is hitting the wetness between your legs is titillating. 

“Listen, sweets,” She whispers, palming your thighs with her tattooed hands, “I’m going to make you cum on my tongue first. Then I am going to fuck this pussy so good, you won’t know any other cock but the fake one in my side table. You hear me?”

Your stomach is in knots, but you know that this is what you really want. “Okay, Ellie. Please do whatever you think I will like.”

“You’re gonna like it all, baby girl. And if it gets a bit dodgy, you just let me know and we can stop.”

You shake your head positively as she smiles between your legs. She starts by kissing up your thighs, keeping you completely in a trance. When her mouth finds your slit, she licks a long stripe. She takes her time, working her tongue in between your pussy lips. The wet sound that happens when she shakes her head is pornographic. When she finds your clit, she encases it and starts to suck lightly. You scream out in pleasure, never feeling this sensitive before. It usually took a whole lot of Matt lazily fingering you and fucking you to illicit such a response. Ellie is building up an orgasm within you in record time. 

She uses her fingers to open up your pussy a little bit more. You instinctively want to close your legs, but her left arm has your legs locked on her bed. Her middle and index fingers curl inside you with every motion forward. 

Her eyes are closed and you are laser-focused on her expressions. She’s putting her all into making you feel good and it’s relieving to watch someone put so much care into it. 

You notice the small little freckles that scatter across her nose get lighter as they reach her cheekbones. She’s so fucking pretty. 

“Jesus, you’re doin’ so good sweetheart. You feel so good.”

“Oh my god, Ellie, please don’t stop,” Your voice is strained, begging her to continue fucking you. She chuckles and begins to pick up speed. Your mind is cluttered, unsure how you can feel this good. 

When the peripherals of your vision begin to get white, you know it’s over. She latches her lips back onto your clit, humming to drag the orgasm out of you. When it happens, your deep guttural moans get muffled by her palm.

You think your heart is going to stop beating. 

Once you begin to feel your muscles relax, Ellie is crawling on top of you, hovering over your chest, her lips kissing your collarbones.

“You did such a great job, baby girl,” She dotes, her short hair falling across her forehead, “You’re so fuckin’ sexy.”

Your heart swells up a thousand sizes. You never got called that before, let alone felt sexy. But Ellie had this aura to her. She made you feel sexy, desirable, wanted. 

Your hand reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear, “Please show me more.”

She nods, before she leans back on her knees. She balances on one leg before shoving her pajama shorts down. The ink travels to every part of her body and you wonder if the ones around her hips hurt. The snakes that travel up her thighs, have their heads resting right on her hip bones. 

You sit up and observe her movements, she’s fumbling with something in her drawer. She seemingly cannot find what she’s looking for and slams it shut. 

“How about this,” She says with a huff, “I want you to see what it feels like to grind that pretty little pussy on mine anyway. The strap will have to wait.”

You feel the blood drain from your face, “The strap?”

She giggles at your not-so-faux innocence. “We will try that next time.”

You aren’t ready for her to grab onto your legs and move you like a rag doll around her bed. She rests her body horizontally from yours, her lower half lining up with yours. You were not sure how this worked, but you had heard of scissoring before. The technicality was lost on you. 

You sit up waiting for instruction, but Ellie is so hypnotized by your wet slit, she doesn’t even look at you. You watch her reach out and touch your dripping center and it sends an electric shock down your limbs. You throw your head back, hissing at the action. 

“God, that cunt is so pretty.”

You finally look back at her, wanting nothing more but to fuck her like she fucked you. So in return for her toying with you, you hastily reach out and touch her pussy. You are confused by what to do, but by her reaction, you know you did something right. 

“Tell me what we are doing,” You beg, closing your legs in closer to hers. She nods, watching your fingers pull apart her pussy lips. 

“Pull your cunt against mine and ride me like you’d ride Matt’s dick.”

You halt your movements, “Ride him?”

“You’ve never ridden him before?”

Your response was your silence. You had never explored much with him, simply because he was quick to get his nut before traversing to other territories. 

She helps you sit up, hover your cunt over hers. You can not lie, the sight of her sticky wet pussy was hot. She guides you down so your mound is on hers. She bites her lip as you practically drool watching your purely untouched body against her painted figure. 

“Now move your hips back,” Her hands are gripping onto your hips, showing you the way, “And forth.”

The friction is immediately overstimulating, but it feels like an itch you’ve never scratched. So fucking delicious. 

“Shit…” You groan at the response your body is giving you.

“Practice makes perfect, baby. Keep moving those hips.” 

You have never been on top, but it’s almost freeing to be in control of the movements. You weren’t sure what you should grip onto as you rubbed your pussy against hers, so you grip onto your own shoulders. Your hips gyrate, the slickness between your legs starts trailing down to Ellie’s navy blue sheets. 

“God, this pussy is so fucking perfect,” Ellie says through gritted teeth. She holds down your hips, somehow trying to get you closer to her.

“It’s yours.” You whine, letting the lust take over your speech. You had no clue what that meant for this situation, you just knew that Ellie knew how to fuck you and it was bliss. Your hands leave your shoulders and eventually find Ellie’s tits.

“This pussy is mine? The first cunt you fuck is the cunt you fuck forever?”

You want to laugh, but the bubble in your stomach is about to burst already with how fucked out of your mind you are. “If the cunt is yours, then yes. I want this forever.”

Ellie sucks on her two fingers before she reaches down, finding the very top of your cunt, and begins to press down on that sensitive little bud. The saliva only mixes with the messiness of your liquids. You squeeze her nipples in response. 

“Never going back to my stupid fuckin’ brother, hm? This pussy belongs to me.”

“Yes, Ellie, fuck!” 

She smiles at your quickening pace. She knows you’re reaching your breaking point, and she knows that she’s close herself. 

“Come for me, baby. Come all over my fuckin’ cunt.”

You jolt forward, your hips stilling over hers. You don’t know if you’ve felt a sensation quite like it. You had tears pricking the corners of your eyes as your body felt like a volcano erupting. The curses leaving Ellie’s lips as she came from your orgasm only added to the high you felt. You knew words were leaving your mouth, but they were just jumbled together strings of sentences. 

“Jesus Christ…”

“It feels so good…”

“I want this pussy forever…”

You fall over next to Ellie, your legs still intertwined with hers. She was trying to catch her breath, her body still jittery from her high. 

“That was per-”

“Babe!!”

Your stomach drops to your ass when you hear Matt’s voice.

You jump up from Ellie’s bed, finding the closest clothes you can grab at. Ellie does the same, but takes her time throwing a tank top over her bed head. His footsteps are practically running up the steps. 

You are still wobbly on your legs, practically falling over trying to put on the pants she loaned you. You just keep saying “fuck” over and over again, knowing that you two will probably be caught. You just finished putting on a shirt when he barges into the room. 

He’s drunk. 

“What are you still doing in here?” He asks you in an accusatory slurred voice. Collin is close behind him, trying to shush him.

“Chill, dude. I was just showin’ her some of my art.” Ellie defends, plopping down on her bed. She’s trying to mask the fact that her bed is wet with your cum. 

While he blabs about how Ellie sucks at art, which he is very wrong about, you notice a red blotch on his shirt collar. You zero in on it because you fucking knew. 

“Matt, what’s on your neck?” You interrupt.

He stops his rant to look down at you. His eyes are bloodshot. He’s so gone that his mind can’t make up an excuse. 

“It’s from Sophie,” He blurts out, his lips getting ahead of his brain. Ellie pauses and the entire room goes dead silent. You had no idea what to say back to that. You had no clue who Sophie was. You honestly did not care, your relationship was already done in your head. You were just kind of shell-shocked that it happened exactly how your mind doctored it.  

You glance over at Ellie who is already looking at you. Collin clears his throat. 

“I think this a conversation for the morning,” Collin says, grabbing Matt’s arm to tug him out of the room. 

You nod, “Yeah, Collin, great idea. Why don’t you take Matt to bed? Tuck him in and give him a sweet kiss like Sophie did.”

Matt’s face turns bright red, the same thing it always did when he got mad at you. Before he could lash out at you, Collin drags him out of the room and into the hall. Before shutting the door behind him, he says, “I’m sorry.”

You furrow your eyebrows, “It’s fine. It’s not the first time. But it will be the last.”

When the door clicks shut, you hear Matt whisper yelling at Collin about how big of a bitch you are. How you didn’t deserve him. Yadda-yadda-yadda. 

Ellie just gawks at you. The tone of the room changed so drastically so quickly that you felt almost disconnected from reality. 

“You okay?” She asks innocently, her hand holding onto your shoulder. 

Your legs are still weak. “Yeah, I think I’ll need more practice though.”

She is confused, you can tell by the look on her face. “Huh?”

“I’ll need more practice riding you. And, hey, you didn’t get to use that fake dick on me, remember?”

-

taglist (for those who said they wanted this haha)

@cavillscurls @satellitespinner @mourningdovee @hockeyhughes @stonerzdaze420692 @00ops1e @sunflowerwinds @holilogram @whoucallingalesbian @aurelialuna

[youronebraincell]

I just know that Sofia uses sex as a grounding technique. The only way she can truly calm down is being skin to skin with her girlfriend. Kissing her, looking deep in her eyes. Generally being very possessive and close to her. She’d be very verbal and talkative during sex. Talking about how stressful her day was, how she’s feeling, her fears, her worries. They’re all laid bare into her woman’s bare skin until it all washes away and all she can think about is the angel kissing her and telling her it’s all going to be okay. That she’s here and she’s never leaving Sofia

Sofia Gigante x fem!reader

I’ve never written a self-insert fic but I got this ask and couldn’t resist so bear with me.

Warning: spoilers for the first five episodes of The Penguin, angst, implied homophobia, mild fluff, reference torture/abuse, smut, spit as lube, strap-on, rough sex, masturbation, minor voyeurism, sustaining injury, possessiveness, floor sex, tribbing, cunnilingus

Word count: 3K

Though she kept it well-hidden, Sofia was extremely anxious most if not all of the time. With the stress of the foundation and being the daughter of mob boss Carmine Falcone, you were the only thing that kept her sane.

Then she got sent to Arkham.

You didn’t see or talk to her for over a decade, but not for the lack of trying. Carmine forbade you from going to Arkham by ‘kindly suggesting’ that Sofia take this time away to work on herself until she’s all better. It didn’t surprise you.

He had never approved of your.. close relationship with his only known daughter.

But then he passed away.

You and Alberto were able to file for an appeal for Sofia’s release. The judge that previously handled her case was found unresponsive in his chambers a week before Carmine’s death.

You saw this as an opportunity to get a new judge, someone who wasn’t on Carmine’s payroll, to review the case. It didn’t take long before Sofia was exonerated and released back into society.

Sofia was different.

The light in her eyes had dimmed. Her smile, once so bright and blinding, had become faint and bittersweet. Every response, every move she made seemed premeditated.

Sofia stayed at your place. You didn’t think it would be good for her to go back to the Mansion so soon. To your surprise, Alberto agreed.

You didn’t mind that he stuck you with two of his guards stationed outside of your apartment in the process. All that mattered was that you had Sofia.

You gave her space even though it was the last thing you wanted. Sofia must’ve had the same thought because on her first night in your apartment, you awoke to the sound of her settling beside you on your worn-out couch, her breath soft and even against your neck. She kept her hands to herself. You did the same.

Yet when morning came, her arm was draped over your waist and your hand was close to her chest. When your eyes fluttered open, you saw big brown eyes staring right at you.

“You still snore.”

You let out a laugh.

The corner of her mouth tugged upward into a smile. It was small, but you didn’t care.

It was progress.

But then.. then Alberto died.

Sofia completely unraveled. She moved back into the Mansion and took you with her.

You watched as the family, especially that fuck Johnny, sidelined her, treating her like she was nothing more than an inconvenience instead of the only living Heir to the Falcone empire.

(Un)fortunately for you, this caused sex with Sofia to improve greatly. Not that it wasn’t already out of this world before, but it was different. It was like she had something to prove now and she had to do so by working her fingers inside of your wet cunt, her teeth grazing against your collarbone.

You were the outlet for her frustration.

Like now at her brother’s memorial.

It didn’t matter where you were. She’d pull you aside, find somewhere private and then eat you out or fingerfuck you to the brink of insanity while ranting to you about whatever asshole or shitty situation upset her this time.

When you came for the second or third time, your legs a little shaky, she cleaned her fingers with her lips and tongue. She held your gaze as she proceeded to wipe them on your dress.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

You were rewarded with a chaste kiss on the lips before she told you to clean yourself up and meet her back inside. You didn’t care that she made you feel like a whore when she left.

You were hers. Solely and unconditionally, hers.

If a whore was what Sofia wanted,

then a whore you would be.

You were reading a book late in the night as you waited for Sofia to come to bed when the double doors were thrown open, startling you and making you drop your book in your lap.

Sofia closed the doors behind her and made her way over to you, her heels clacking against the polished wooden floor. “Take off your clothes.”

You stare at her, your mouth slightly agape.

“Now, Y/N!”

You closed the book and set it on your nightstand before pulling your shirt over your head and lifting your hips to take off your panties.

You were more than a little concerned, but also really turned on by your girlfriend’s commanding tone. A gush of wetness left your cunt as you thought about what she was gonna do to you.

Sofia took off her dress, her bra and panties following soon after. She let her hair down and opened the walk-in closet.

When she came out, she looked down as she adjusted the harness of the strap-on around her waist. A black dildo stood out between her legs.

Your jaw dropped as you marvelled at the size.

Sofia eyed you with a hint of irritation as she walked towards you on the bed. “Close your mouth. I won’t be needing that tonight.”

You closed your mouth.

You moved to sit in the middle of the bed before spreading your legs. Sofia was on you in a matter of seconds, her mouth ravishing yours as she laid you down. Her hand slithered down to see if you were wet enough. She pulled away, breaking the kiss. She watched your reaction as she slipped her middle finger into your cunt.

You tried to suppress a groan, but she noticed.

“Don’t do that. I need to know if I’m hurting you.”

She spat into her hand and rubbed her spit along her length before pressing the tip against your entrance. You shivered with want.

She spread your lower lips with her fingers. Her eyes never left your face as she pushed her cock inside of you, watching every microexpression from the furrow of your brows to the slight tremble of your bottom lip. It was bigger than the dildos she used on you in the past. This one was stretching you out in a way that was almost too much for you to handle. Almost.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding when she bottomed out. She gave you a moment to get adjusted to her size.

You put your hand on her shoulder, but quickly pulled it away when you touched her scars.

“It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt me.”

You looked up at her.

“Go on.”

Hesitantly, you brought your hand up to her shoulder. You grabbed onto it. You brushed the pad of your thumb along her scars in a back and forth motion, a frown forming your lips. “I’m sorry..”

“No. None of that, okay? The past is in the past.”

Still, your jaw clenched at the torture and abuse Sofia was subjected to at the hands of her father.

It relaxed as you let out a surprised gasp when Sofia pulled back and thrusted her hips forward.

She spent the rest of the night and better part of the morning fucking into you with reckless abandon as your velvety walls clenched around her faux cock orgasm after orgasm after orgasm.

From what she was saying, the family wanted to send her away to Italy. Assholes.

Then there was something about her being suspicious of Oz..

It was hard for you to keep up as she fucked you well within an inch of your life.

Sofia seemed content with the barely coherent hums you gave her every now and then.

You dragged your nails down her back when you came for the umpteenth time. You hid your face in the crook of her neck, whimpering as another orgasm washed over you like a crashing wave.

You heard her panting lightly next to your head.

You felt raw and empty when she wordlessly pulled her cock out of you. Your walls clenched around nothing, immediately missing the warmth and stretch that the toy provided.

You tried to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling as you laid sprawled out on the bed.

You closed your eyes.

When you opened them, you turned your head towards the sound of uneven breathing and saw Sofia masturbating, the strap-on long abandoned. Her eyes were glued to the ceiling like she was planning something in her head.

You turned to lie on your side so you could watch.

Her neck strained when she tilted her chin up. You could tell she was close. She inhaled sharply and suppressed a groan when she came, her eyes still trained on the ceiling. She breathed out.

Then she turned to look at you.

Your fingers danced on her upper arm, slowly making their way to her face. You tapped her temple. “What’re you thinking?”

“You need to go to a hotel for a couple days.”

You brushed the end of her brow. “Okay.”

You didn’t question her. You never did.

Sofia smiled and took your hand from her face to press a gentle kiss to your palm.

“Grazie, bella.”

She set you up in a hotel suite just outside of Gotham with one simple instruction: don’t leave the room. Two guards were stationed outside to make sure you didn’t defy her.

On one of those mornings while you were eating a breakfast sandwich in bed, you saw the news of what happened at the Falcone Mansion.

You saw Sofia talking to Chief Mackenzie just outside the Mansion before going in. The camera panned to Gia being taken away in a beige van.

Your heart dropped to your stomach.

You jump out of bed and put on a shirt and some sweats before opening the front door.

One of the guards, a tan woman about an inch or two taller than you, stepped in front of you.

���Get out of my way.”

“I have direct orders to keep you here, ma’am.”

“I don’t care. I need to see Sofia.”

You tried to move past her, but she continued to block your path. The other guard didn’t bother stepping in. His phone rang. “Shit. It’s the wife.”

“Go. I got this.”

The man walked away from the suite, his receding footsteps growing quieter and quieter. The woman made sure he was out of sight before pushing you back into the suite by force.

You stumbled backwards and fell flat on your ass. The back of your head made contact with the edge of the footboard. You cried out in pain.

The guard didn’t seem to care. “You will stay here until Miss Falcone says otherwise.”

She left you on the floor, the door slamming shut behind her as she made her exit.

You stood up and went to the fridge to get something cold for your head. You take a soda can from the back of the fridge and press it against the bump forming on your head. You wince when the cool metal touches your scalp.

A few hours later, the woman came in unannounced to tell you they’ll be taking you back to the Mansion. She handed you some painkillers. “For your head.”

You stared at her, your eyes ablaze with fury.

Much to your irritation, she cracked a smile. “We leave in ten. That should give you enough time to look.. presentable for Miss Falcone.”

Your nostrils flared as she left. Bitch.

You put on an emerald green, one-shoulder evening dress. You contemplated putting your hair in a bun, but decided against it last minute.

You didn’t need Sofia asking questions.

The drive to the Mansion was spent in silence.

When you arrived, you walked behind the guards and entered what you called ‘The War Room.’

Sofia was standing at the head of the table with Johnny sitting on her right. You watched in awe as she spoke. You hung on to every word.

Johnny told her to take it easy.

You rolled your eyes.

You flinched when she shot him in the head.

Silence enveloped the room.

She blew a raspberry then continued speaking as if nothing had happened. She opened a duffel bag and dumped stacks and stacks of cash onto the table. Nobody dared to move. Not even when she urged them to take what’s rightfully theirs.

“Come on, guys,” You said with a smile, sauntering over to your girlfriend. “Dig in.”

Sofia wrapped an arm around your waist. “You heard her, ladies and gentlemen. Have your fill.”

Two dozen greedy hands reached out to grab what they could before it was all gone.

“Not you.”

The woman who kept guard at the hotel froze, her body bent over slightly on the table.

“Put it back.”

The woman emptied her pockets and put the stacks back on the table.

“Everyone else, continue.”

The table was cleared in seconds.

Sofia’s eyes never left the woman standing across from her with her fists clenched at her sides. “You hurt the woman I love when you were supposed to be protecting her. I can’t let that stand.”

The woman swallowed nervously.

“Since you were such a loyal soldier to my father, I will give you the benefit of a doubt and let you leave with your head still attached to your body.”

The woman didn’t need to be told twice.

She turned on her heel and left the room.

Sofia’s grip on your waist tightened, her fingers digging into the fabric of your dress hard enough to bruise the covered skin that lay underneath.

“First person to kill her gets ten grand.”

The two of you didn’t witness the chaos that erupted as you left the room beforehand.

She took you into her father’s study and closed the doors. Her eyes raked over your face. “You weren’t gonna tell me.”

You pursed your lips. “I was being difficult. She was just.. doing her job.”

She reached behind you to asses the damage that had been done to the back of your head. Her heart ached at the bump she felt. “Hurting you is not one of the requirements.”

She pulled her hand away when you winced.

You looked at her.

“You killed your family.”

“I did.”

“You orphaned Gia.”

Sofia pressed her lips together. “I did.”

“Did it feel good?”

“Yes. It did.”

You threw yourself onto Sofia, surprising her for a split second before her surprise morphed into something else. Something more inviting.

You found yourself lying on your back in front of the lit fireplace. Clothes were literally torn off and ripped apart by Sofia’s needy hands.

You moaned into her mouth as you grinded your cunts together, sloppily and unrestrained. Your hardened nipples rubbed against hers. Your tongue submitted to hers as they danced inside your mouth to a rhythm only the two of you knew.

She bit your bottom lip when you reached down and cupped her ass, urging her on. You welcomed the taste of your own blood on your tongue.

A thick strand of saliva connected your lips together when she broke the kiss.

“You’re so gorgeous when you’re like this, bella;”

Sofia leaned down to nip at your earlobe.

“Spent, barely hanging on,”

Her tongue licked the shell of your ear.

“But begging for more.”

She kissed you again. You both orgasmed simultaneously, moaning into each other’s mouths while getting down from your highs, your hips bucking wantonly to chase after each other.

When you broke apart for air, you pushed her down so she was the one lying on her back.

“I haven’t seen you in days,” You said as you made your way down her body. You stop inches away from her cunt. “Care to bring me up to speed while I eat you out, Miss Gigante?”

Sofia loved the way her new name rolled of your tongue. “Only if you put that tongue to good use.”

“Don’t I always?”

You ate out Sofia as she told you what you had missed, your mouth and tongue working overtime to satisfy the woman you loved.

Oz betrayed her (surprise, surprise), Julian ‘saved’ her after the Maronis ambushed her and then she killed him before killing the Falcones.

You listened intently to each and every word.

Your bodies were covered in thick layers of sweat by the time the two of you were finished.

You had your head on her chest. You drew meaningless patterns on her arm and stomach while her fingers played with your hair.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

You looked up at her. “For what?”

“Everything, I suppose” She looked deep into your eyes. “You could’ve abandoned me a handful of times, but you didn’t. Which is more than I could say for my family. May they rest in peace.”

You tried not to smile at that.

“Now that Berto’s gone, you’re all I have.”

She cupped your left cheek, her thumb brushing against the corner of your mouth.

“I love you. I don’t know what I’d do without you in my life. Hopefully, I’ll never have to find out.”

You weren’t stupid. There was an underlying threat to her words. Of course there was.

There was no forgetting what Sofia was. Even when you were putty in her arms like you are now, you knew what she was capable of when crossed.

Still, you gave her a genuine smile. “I love you too. Even if you accuse me of snoring which I don’t.”

Sofia let out a loud laugh.

You caved three seconds in and laughed with her.

[plutoswritingplanet]

could you do a request of Buggy (opla) falling for Luffy’s older sister? (Adopted or blood relation, doesn’t matter) like he takes her hostage but she doesn’t seem to mind. She know she can escape at any time, but keep annoying buggy to a point where… he doesn’t see her as a hostage anymore, more like treasure? And she starts to maybe feel something for the clown?

You Started It (Buggy The Clown x Reader)

a/n: how did i know the first request will be about the clown lmao. i took some liberties when writing this but i hope you still like it <3

Warnings: Buggy Being Kind Of An Asshole, Captivity, Some Suggestive Themes

Summary: Poking the bear isn't the wisest things you could be doing in your particular situation.

Part 2.

You've memorized every nook and cranny of your shoes. The time you've spent in containment has really opened your eyes, when it comes to how little you actually knew about the clothes you were wearing. For example, your right shoe was slightly bigger, molded by your foot. You must be putting more weight onto your right leg, when standing. The hem of your shorts is made with a very close cross stitch, making them slightly sturdier and thicker. Right where the material folds, just above your knee, you've managed to pick out a small hole, the strings of abused material hung sadly and tickled your skin.

There wasn't really much to do, while being kept in a cage, in the backstage of a circus which belonged to the infamous Buggy the Clown. Well, except studying the stains on your shoes and waiting for the Captain to visit you, which he did quite frequently.

"Entertainment purposes" is the reason he declared, when you've asked him why on earth is he keeping you locked up in a hanging cage. But you weren't so easily fooled. You knew from the start, that the role he has envisioned for you to play, was that of a Hostage and Bait. So, inevitably, when your younger brother and his merry band of misfits come to save you, he'd be able to even out the score. Which was a shitty plan, in your opinion.

They've kicked his ass before, they can do it once again.

So, that's why you're here, feet dangling above the floor, as you hum to yourself. Anything to pass the time. That is, until you hear the door to the backstage open, and a familiar tone of voice calls out.

"Hostage!"

Really, how did he even expect you to stay in the dark about his plan, while calling you like this? The man was clearly insane.

Buggy the Clown stands before you, makeup disheveled as always, with his Captain's hat abandoned in favor of a striped bandana. He's excited, which is evident, by the way he can't seem to stop moving, jumping from one leg to the other, hands fidgeting at his sides.

"How are you feeling, my dear Hostage?" he asks with fake concern, and just as your mouth opens to answer, he interrupts "Ah, never mind that, I don't care."

You don't even try to hide the annoyed expression on your face.

"You can sing" he states matter-of-factly, pointing a finger right at you.

"Barely."

"Can you dance though?"

"Barely as well."

He hums in thought, pacing the floor in front of your cage. Finally, he stops, looking at you with his head tilted to the side. His eyes rake over your body, and it brings a sudden wave of discomfort to your bones.

"You'll be performing in our next act."

Again, his tone leaves no space for an argument. Still, you were never an agreeable person, smiles were more of your brother's thing. So, you straighten out as much as the cage allows you and cross your arms in front of your chest.

"Do whatever you like, my brother will get me out of here before you can say Welcome to my big show".

"Welcome to my big show" he says immediately, then, raises his finger, as if he's waiting for the entire crew of Strawhats to fall from the sky.

They don't, obviously, and he gives you a pointed look, to which you respond with a roll of your eyes.

"Besides" he turns around and opens one of the chests laid out on the table "Aren't you a bit old to dote on your younger brother so much?"

The question genuinely offends you, and as he pulls out another bandana, this one red, covered entirely with big white polka dots, your eyes glimmer with venom.

"Aren't you a bit old to play dress up?"

He turns in a blink of an eye, and with terror mixed with disgust you watch his hands detach from his body, slamming into the cage. The force of impact sends it flying right into the nearby wall, the back of your head smacks against the metal bars. The swinging of the cage coupled with the stars erupting before your eyelids from the impact make you feel dizzy.

Then, Buggy takes a step towards the cage, connecting his hands with the rest of his body, and your prison stops swinging in an instant.

"I should kill you for that" he says lowly, his blue eyes bearing into your face.

"You started it" you choke out an accusation, trying very hard not to vomit.

He stays completely quiet, just watching you for a long while, his hands slowly loose tension. Then, as if his rage has entirely dissolved, he smiles, teeth completely exposed, as his cheeks crease. God, you'd do such a better job at his make-up, given the chance.

"You're funny, Hostage" he shakes his head, and suddenly, for some unknown reason, it downs upon you, just how close to you, he's standing.

"Sing for me some more" he says.

And then, his hands push back with sufficient force to send your cage flying again. You groan at the movement, another wave of nausea almost making you loose your breakfast. When you finally have the perfect, biting comeback, he's already gone, the door slamming after him. You're alone again.

A sigh escapes your lips, as you press your forehead to the cold metal of the cage. You've already memorized all the details of your own clothes, and the room was too dark to see anything more. So, you start observing the cage. The way the light shifts up and down on the bars, the way the brown paint seems to peel away under your thighs. Then, you look up, towards the place where all the bars have been stuck together.

And then your eyebrows furrow. Because just above the ceiling of the cage, you can see something poking out. Something roughly the size of a fist and colored a pale, fleshy color. You raise yourself slightly in your seat, to get a better look, and immediately regret doing so.

It's an ear. His ear. Detached and placed right on top of the cage. That's how he knows about your singing, the bastard.

An idea brews in your brain, mischief spilling out of your growing smirk. You pull yourself up, until you can reach the top of the cage. Your arm is just slender enough to slip past the bars, and your fingers brush against the cold flesh of the ear. Before Buggy, wherever he is, can react, you snatch the ear from the top of the cage, keeping a tight grip, as it starts to jump in your hand.

Then, you take a deep breath, place the ear close to your lips… And give the most blood-curling, shrill scream you could muster.

Immediately, you hear a string of curses coming your way, and a second later Buggy bursts into the room, a murderous expression on his face. You open your hand, and the ear nearly bursts out of your fingers, flying back to it's owner like some sort of deformed beetle. The sight, for some reason, is so incredibly funny, you can't help but choke out a little giggle. Which soon becomes a quite big giggle, which in turn morphs into a full blown laughter.

You can't see the Captain through the tears of laughter forming in your eyes, so when he knocks on the metal bars of your cage, you nearly choke from surprise. He's looking at you strangely. Not quite as angry as before, but there is something else lurking behind his eyes. As if he's enveloped deeply in his thoughts, but at the same time completely present and focused on you. Your laughter dies down in an instantly, and you reach up to wipe your tears, clearing your throat awkwardly.

"I've captured myself a comedian, huh?" the man leans closer to the bars of the cage, placing his forehead against them and looking at you from below "You trying to take my place as the funniest person in the circus? Hm, Hostage?"

You risk a smirk, leaning down towards him. He watches your movements with a curious expression, eyes darting all over your face.

"Yeah" you whisper "So, you better watch your back."

At that, he smiles one of his brilliantly wide smiles. This one however, seems the most honest out of every one you've seen up to this point. You try not to linger too much at the way his eyes seem to shine in the dimly lit room. Or how the stubble on his face makes his features sharper. Or even on the way his arms flex as he leans against the cage. And definitely, without a shadow of a doubt, you're not focusing on the fact, that he's standing nestled right between your dangling legs.

So, before your brain conjures up any unwanted ideas, you clear your throat again and straighten up. Buggy notices the shift in your posture, but doesn't move, instead it seems as if a lightbulb has literally appeared beside his head. Desperate to change the subject, which hasn't been even brought up yet, you wave your hand in the general direction of his ear.

"Your ability is pretty useful" you try to sound as neutral, as humanly possible.

"Oh?" he tilts his head back and gives you a suspicious look.

"Yeah, that eavesdropping thing was really cool… And slightly disgusting" your nose scrunches "But mostly cool."

He hums low in his throat, his hands slowly letting go of your cage. Still, he remains standing between your legs, your knee brushing against his prominent hip bones.

"Are there" you swallow "Any limits to this ability?"

Now, his eyebrows jump straight under his bandana, and you definitely do not like the slow smirk filling his features.

"I mean, like, can you detach your nose? Or um… I don't know, your fingernails?"

Finally he steps back, stretching his arms to the side, as if he's giving you a show, and in a way, he does. There are muscles, hidden under those circus clothes. His exposed forearms are nicely shaped, with thick veins running the length of them. You really don't mean to ogle the man, but fuck, he is handsome. In an "insane-sadistic-clown-who-is-also-a-pirate-for-some-reason" way.

"I can detach every single part of my body with no effort" he says, his smile growing.

Before you could really think about your actions, your gaze falls downward, right to his belt keeping his trousers up. Mortified, that your brain would even go there, you tear your eyes up, and with a horrified expression, look upon a face full of excitement.

Then, Buggy raises his hands to his heart, feigning a scandalized expression, which would've been funny, if you weren't currently blushing in the lovely shade of a ripe beetroot.

"I'm sorry… that's not… I didn't" your words come out a jumbled mess, and Buggy wheezes out a laugh.

"Oh would you look at that" he puts his hands behind his back, as he slowly starts to stalk towards your confinement "You know, with how sheltered your little brother is, I didn't expect you to be such a dirty pervert."

You choke on air, arms flailing inside the cage, as you genuinely are at a loss for words, You can feel your face grow impossibly hot, the heat spreading all the way to the tops of your ears. The Clown still advances, until his face is pushed right between the bars of the cage, a smile on his lips and a glint in his eye. You don't know what to do with yourself, as the man continues to laugh at your outrage.

Finally, his right hand flies from behind his back and stops right above his head. Then, as if making a show specially for you out of his unusual abilities, he lets his pointer finger remove itself from the hand. Involuntarily, you make a face, and try to push yourself as far into the cage, as humanly possible. Which, given the size of your prison, does practically nothing. The finger aims straight at your nose and presses it with slightly more force, than a friendly "boop" would.

"You started it" he throws your own words back at you, and watches your dumbfounded expression with a smile and a giggle.

Finally, he steps back, all his body parts in place, and you can breathe again at last. Then, with a flourish, he bows down before the cage, before giving you a slightly unbalanced twirl. At that, you can't help but smile, almost fondly. He's not so bad, when he isn't actively trying to murder you and your friends.

"Anyways, get ready, your grand performance is in a week" he concludes, and you sigh deeply.

So he hasn't let this one go.

No matter. A week from now, you'll be out of this place. The thought fills you with joy, and strangely, with some sort of melancholy, which you have to jot down as nausea, just to protect your own mental health.

"Hostage" the man says, as a goodbye, bowing once again, this time with fewer theatrics, and begins to walk back towards the door. "Captain" you respond in kind, inclining your head slightly.

He stops in his tracks, back turned to you, before slowly, twisting his body, to look you in the face. He wants to say something, his mouth opens and closes, and anticipation floods your stomach. But then, his lips pull back into one more smile, more reserved, more private. Now, in this rare moment of tranquility, he looks truly handsome, and your heart jumps to your throat at the realization. He gives you one last look, shakes his head at the floor, and exits with a soft click of the door.

You're, once again, left alone with your mismatched shoes and the hole in your shorts. This time, however, your head is filled with tender thoughts, one that could keep you company, until another visit befalls you.

[tenko-thinks]

Upper moons and an s/o with large breasts

Cw: a reader with some huge honkers. I'm talking a real pair of badonkers. Some HUGE habagah-- anyways, suggestive , mentions of lactation?¿ I'm projecting my back hurts

Ft. Douma Akaza and Gyutaro

Requests are open i encourage them, im not that creative

♡ ------ ♡

Douma

Douma is one person I see that values breasts on a feminine partner. They imply fertility, after all.

And that implies youth. Beauty. Which is quite attractive not only to the part of you that he desires to devour. But also to the part of him that is a.. Man.

His hands are almost always trailing down to your breasts. Resting on the softness there.

He only becomes handsier over time, bolder and pretty uncaring of boundaries. Or public opinion. He has a right to squeeze, he feels.

When he's bored he enjoys them in an almost cat like fashion. Lifting them and releasing them to watch the jiggle of soft flesh.

Absolutely the worst to sleep with though you'll be in bed and a hand with find your tit under your clothing and it's like Antarctica. He thinks your reactions are to die for. So he's going to keep doing it of course.

There's a part of him that wants to delve deeper on the idea of your fertility. Watch your breasts swell. He wonders if your milk would be like drinking your blood? Just as devine?

Also you're twinsies with fat tits congrats

Akaza

Akaza does not strike me as someone who cares about the body of his partner so long as they're healthy.

However he cannot deny his base attraction to. The simpler things in life. If you're well endowed. Well, it only means more of you to love.

And love you he does. He's not great at showing gentle affection but words of affirmation are natural to him.

If you're insecure of your chest? He's there to soothe you.

If you're proud of them and love showing them off? Free hype man.

#1 malewife no matter the form his s/o takes i will die on this hill.

Pull a "my tits feel heavy" and ask him to hold them. It'll be funny i promise.

Gets very flustered around you in the nude however. Pointedly NOT looking at your chest. Save him.

Gyutaro

Living in yoshiwara, Gyutaro has seen numerous women. Most of which bearing a few extra pounds on their chest.

He hardly even knew smaller boobs existed . Sure he knew they Did but big was average to him. So I can definitely see him being more of a tits guy just by nature of his environment.

He's an asshole though , bless his heart. Very much the type to just like. Lightly swat at your boob when you annoy him or catch him off guard.

Laughs if your chest is sensitive, and he will abuse that knowledge. Going out of his way to find situations to tease about it.

He however also knows the downsides of having them as well. Considering he's a brother to a sister in a similar predicament as you. Back pain or whatever.

So to make up for his unrelenting teasing, Gyutaro will often just hold you. Or help you crack your back. On a good day he might give you a shoulder rub if you ask nicely. He will call you a loser or pathetic ♡

He often has Daki bringing you warm compresses or bags of rice to rest on your lower back. When she doesn't cry about it, she's actually surprisingly understanding about the whole situation. Not that she'd say that through her pride.

[chaoticfandomgirly]

The Stupidity of hating on fanon, featuring Jegulus.

Alright folks,

Welcome to another one of my rants because I found out that there are jegulus haters on tumblr. I have not encountered one but I saw it on my mutuals' page and I had some words (a lot of words) to say.

So let's get started...

One of the main complaints is saying that 'James would never fall for Regulus.' Umm...child, do you know what fanfic is? What fanon is? If not let me spell it out for you- it's made up. Something that is not canon and created by fans by employing their imaginations. We are not saying that James would fall for Regulus in canon at all, so please don't come barging in with your opinions. So yes, we don't really care about canon anyways.

Secondly, the argument of 'Regulus being a terrible person and pureblood supremacist' is really weak. Alright, he was a pureblood supremacist and was involved in terrible things. But do you know what else he was? He was just a 17 year old boy who grew up in an abusive household. A boy who had lost his big brother and had to learn survival at an age too young. He grew up before his time and was so traumatized that he always wanted to please his parents and do as they wish. Regulus was just another victim and he also was the one who ended up being the catalyst to Voldemort's defeat. As someone who studies psychology, viewing a person on the surface is the biggest sign of ignorance and it really shows. As for 'being terrible' then let's not forget that canon James wasn't all sunshine and rainbows either. He improved ofc, but he was still an asshole when he was young. Also, we really don't have enough background on canon Regulus to place him in one box. I love that some people want to believe him as good and fill in the blanks by writing something redeeming.

Then comes the 'it's a misogynistic ship'. Now, I won't argue it fully because I do think there are some people out there who don't like Jily bc they hate Lily. But, from what I've seen majority shippers ship both of them interchangeably or in a polyarmorous sense too. In fact, most jegulus shippers are also Marylily and pandalily shippers too. I really can't see anything misogynistic in it. I've actually read some great fics where Lily is a strong independent woman who is fierce and an overall queen.

And, if the 'canon' of it bothers you too much, then you should check out early Jegulus fics like Choices where nothing is sugar-coated. James still ends up with Lily. But in the end, it leaves you thinking and rooting for them anyways. The more new Jegulus fics are on a fluffier side but that fluff came in after bearing the pain of the full of angst fics like Choices.

Another thing should be noted is that these characters are also a big part of queer community. I've seen so many fans exploring themselves through these characters. Like Regulus as Trans is becoming a popular headcanon and it shows that through creative expression people are finding a safe place to explore. And if you're a bigot then...that is frankly a you problem. One I, or jegulus fans, don't want any part of.

In the end, my motive is not to convince you of shipping these two. It clearly started as a crackship, one even I stumbled upon accidentally. But the fandom has made it into something really beautiful and I think instead of spreading hate we should accept it. There are more problematic pairings to be concerned about, trust me. This one is the least of them all.

Thank you for listening to my rant. And if you have anything negative to say, kindly don't because it would just be proof of your own stupidness. There is no point you can argue about with anything substantial. Because in the end it's fanon. Let fans do what they want and if you don't like it then ignore. No one is forcing it on you.

@corwnvus I hope this covers it all. Also, I love your art. Did I mention that, already?

[heartcereql]

𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲𝘀 𝘂𝘀 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹𝘀

ao'nung x fem!metkayina!reader

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒- after an abrupt break up, your feelings for your best friend's brother arise again.

𝐂𝐖- slightly ooc ao'nung (felt like writing him soft for once; bear with me) cursing, english is not my first language.

𝐀/𝐍- i love this song ong

tsireya and you had been joined at the hip since you were mere babies. you'd been there growing up, through life's ups and downs, knew each other like the back of your hand.

so, naturally, you knew her family as she knew yours. your parents had also grown closer over the years, used to their daughters spendind the better part of their time together. and you got to know the other's siblings. which you would certainly be grateful for.

at first, you were intimidated by tsireya's brother. he scared you, to be completely honest. but then he actually talked to you, you must have been nine or so, and fright turned to childish infatuation.

of course, once you identified your feelings, you immediatly buried them and tried your best to avoid and forget ao'nung.

as you grew, you used to stay up all night, sneaking out, looking for a taste of real life. you met new people, loved to explore, discovered secrets and messed around some more. you had eventuallt found a guy. he and you were no more than a fling, but to tsireya always seemed like a big deal. and then the omaticayas came and she got involved with that sully boy. you were beyond happy for her, but you didn't miss the way it was more and more difficult to find time for you both alone.

this all led you to standing in front of her marui, doing your best to not break down crying again about some dumb idiotic kid, hoping to be able to see your best friend.

"uh, hey" you said, startled by ao'nung there, immediatly trying your best to hide the trace of tears on your face. "is tsireya home?"

"no, she went out for a while. with that sully boy." he replied, smirking.

you laughed softly.

"well, alright, i'll come back later" you were already turning around when he grabbed your wrist, turning you to face him again.

"you can wait for her here. if you want, of course"

"really?" you grinned lightly. he just nodded and let you in.

only when you passed by his side he noticed the tears running down your bambi, round eyes.

"hey is everything okay?" he sat down as he spoke, motioning for you to sit down as well.

"yeah, yeah, why?" you tried to smile.

he gestured around his eyes and you realized you had entered in your rather vulnerable state.

"oh, yeah yeah yeah, i'm fine" you attempted to lie but your voice broke.

ao'nung knew about that guy you were seeing; he wasn't quite fond of him. after all those years you spent with tsireya, he couldn't help but develop a sense of protection over you. you didn't exactly keep this guy a secret, but hadn't told him directly. after observing him for a while, he realized the guy was a complete asshole. he wanted you to see that too, but you were rather infatuated.

"is it about that dickhead?" he asked, putting his arm around your shoulders; your skin turning to fire where his flesh met yours.

you nodded, a single tear rolling down your cheek. he immeadiatly brought you closer in a half hug, your head resting against his shoulder.

"he didn't deserve you. at all."

"gosh, i feel so incredibly stupid. you even tried to tell me!" you laughed under your breath. "but this is what makes us girls, right? we know what's gonna happen and yet we put love first. it's like our curse. making the same mistakes over and over again"

he laughed with you too, before moving to sit in front of you. he gently wiped the tears off your cheeks.

"don't cry about it, 'kay? i'm here for whatever you need" ao'nung assured you quietly.

you smiled at him.

"i'll be fine. he's just a guy" you laughed it off, not missing the way his hand didn't leave your cheek.

you had thought about ao'nung like that a few times, but you pushed away the thought every time. he was tsireya's brother, for eywa's sake. how would she react?

as a comfortable silence fell between you both, you glanced at his lips- you mean, his eyes. you could hear his breathing, unconsciously synchronizing yours with his. faces inching closer every second, losing control of what you were doing.

"fuck. i really want to kiss you" he whispered, lips so close they were fanning against the others'. "but it wouldn't be right. not now"

you nodded. you understood. you shared his worry. now wasn't the time; you had just called it quits with that boy- you hated how you weren't even a thing. it would seem like a rebound on your side and taking advantage on his, though that was far from the truth of your feelings, hidden, deemed as childish over the years.

as if on cue, you heard tsireya's happy and giddy steps. you and ao'nung scrambled away, not wanting to look suspicious to his sister. she entered the marui instants later, a smile painted bright on her face.

"well, well"

"someone had a nice time with forest boy" you teased.

"shut up!" she put on her best show to sound annoyed, but she was madly blushing and grinning.

"i, uh, i'll leave the two of you to catch up" ao'nung announced before walking out, not before directing one last glance your way.

"tell me everything!" he could hear you gushing as he walked away.

you didn’t expect to see him. then again, you hadn’t seen him for a couple of weeks, so it was only a matter of time before you ran into him.

“i guess it’s kind of our thing, huh?” you joked, a smirk appearing on ao’nung’s face. “finding you when i come looking for tsireya”

“yeah, uh, well, you wanna come in?” he asked.

your mind flashed you a memory of the last time you’d been with him. but that only encouraged you further to come with him.

"so. how have you been?" ao'nung said once you entered.

"good. better. much better" you looked at him as you replied, grinning a bit.

“that’s nice”

awkwardness settled between you.

“tsireya’s out with lo’ak again” he bluntly spoke.

“figured”

you fidgeted with your fingers nervously, debating wether you should bring it up or just forget about it. your eyes danced around the room, averting your gaze to the spot on the floor besides your feet. your eyes could have burnt holes in the spots they bored into from the harshness of your stare.

so focused were you on the texture of the floor or whatever, you missed how ao'nung snaked closer to you. you remained oblivious to how near he stood now until his fingertips ghosted over your shoulder, making you turn around to face him.

he brushed a loose strand of hair away from your face, his own face hovering over yours. your eyes shot up to meet his, eyes round, looking at him with longing and desire.

and then you weren’t able to hold the need for him any longer. you kissed him, and eywa did it feel good. your lips fit like pieces of a puzzle.

you gave him enough time to regret it, to back away, to tell you this was just a misunderstandment, and never speak to you again. but he did more than just stop you. he kissed you back, feverishly, the hand that had been gracing your cheek now cupping your face, pulling you even closer to him. warmth blossomed in your chest, sparks igniting from ao'nung's touch.

your hands steady on his chest, your heartbeat quickening as your lips parted slightly, allowing his tongue to slip inside, mouths exploring each other with the suppressed eagerness from all the years prior, which had remained hidden to the other. he traveled your body with his free hand, trailing every curve, sailing above your skin. ao’nung felt like he wanted to learn every bit of you.

the kiss soon went from sweet to needy and blazing, holding onto each other as if you were going to disappear once you pulled away. maybe for the sole purpose of contradicting this thought, ao'nung broke the kiss just for an instant, just to look at your messy state: cheeks flushed, lips plump, a blessed expression upon your features. but then he resumed the kiss, impossibly deepening it. you two were almost absorbed by your own bubble, away from everything else.

that's why, perhaps, you didn't sense the person approaching until it was too late.

"what. the hell. is going on here?" tsireya's voice shrieked, making you abruptly pull away to face her.

© heartcereql, 2023 || thank you for reading ! 𓆩 ♱ 𓆪

[11queensupreme11]

In Cu grow up with Percilla

At least Gabe would die much faster and quicker.

I mean personality would change too, if sally can do Fix PJ Poseidon to be Broseidon

To make Cu a bit nicer would work easy. Still a asshole, but a asshole with heart and familiy love

wait ur right cu chulainn comes from a time where ppl can just randomly kill ppl for whatever reason (a hobby he definitely loved to take part in 😂) so he would definitely kill gabe but i see him as doing it as an exchange first???

"take me in and i'll kill gabe and act as percy's protector" kinda thing, and ofc sally would hesitate first because helloooo why would she trust a random kid to kill her husband (+ the whole morals thing), he could get caught (modern day = cameras, more technology to catch killers, she's the wife so detectives would look at her more closely, etc.)

BUT she just witnessed this kid save her daughter from a monster like it was the easiest thing ever, he clearly knows SOMETHING about the divine world, and gabe IS abusive so she hesitantly agrees to it and cu chulainn somehow manages to kill gabe and get away with it and BAM the jacksons got a new addition and percy gets a new unpaid babysitter big brother!

for percy's sake, i feel like sally would ask cu chulainn to keep it a secret that he killed gabe and that she conspired with it, so the excuse they go with is "oh nooo, gabe must've pissed someone off during his usual gambling sessions and they snapped and murdered him!" and percy would nod cuz yeah that seems believable plus that's what the cops deduced too

i think cu would also be confused as to why sally wants to keep percy in the dark but after she explains the whole "her scent gets stronger if she knows = more monsters appear & i don't want to send my kid to a camp where they'll shape her into what the gods want her to be" he'll understand and play along. so the cover story for why cú's staying with them is "cú chulainn/sétante is from the foster care system and i managed to get custody over him, so he's gonna be your new big brother now, isn't that great? 😊 " and little percy would be like "fiiiiiine 😒" cuz he's a meanie but if her mom wants him around then she'll just have to grin and bear it 😂

[lorbanery]

I just need to talk about Dick Grayson and Jon Kent's relationship for a minute

Just 'cause I keep seeing people file it under the typical Super-Bats dichotomy (Bruce and Clark, Tim and Kon, Jason and Bizarro, Damian and Jon)

BUT

Have you considered: Dick is the Superman to Jon's Robin?

Just

Just listen

There's the obvious justification that's just "Dick is much older than Jon", sure. But there's more nuance here.

Dick is different people to different generations of heroes.

To his own generation he's the responsible best friend everyone knows they can rely on, but also know better than to think of him as superhuman because they've all seen him at his worst (and by worst I don't just mean "most depressed" I mean most "shouting at his four year old niece" bitchy asshole).

I'm skipping Jason because he doesn't have his own generation he just kind of awkwardly pilfers people from Dick's and Tim's until they'd willingly shank Batman for him.

To Tim's generation he's a legend who they quickly realized is actually almost as out-of-touch as the first gen heroes. They're like a big queer friend group and he's the one kid's kind of square straight older brother. He's cool, he's supportive, he's always willing to drive them places, covers for them when they ditch class or are out past curfew, and he WILL throw down with anyone's homophobic parents; but he always has a lecture ready about underage drinking and while he laughs along with their "I'm too gay for this" jokes, you can tell he doesn't really get them. At least he's always excited for Pride. He buys himself a new "ally" shirt every year.

(Disclaimer: Previous paragraph was meant merely as a demonstrative metaphor and not to express any definitive opinion on Dick Grayson's sexuality. @ DC Comics let that boy be bi)

But to Damian's generation? Dick Grayson is a parental figure. When Damian and Jon were first starting out their superhero careers, Dick was not only acting as Batman, but as Damian's guardian, two roles most people, in-universe, expected him to be in permanently. And for Jon Dick wasn't just his friend's dad; when Clark had to leave Earth, forcing Jon to step into the role of Superman, and Jon expressed concern over being up to the job, Clark specifically told Jon to seek out Dick.

Because Jon, of course, was a teenager facing down not only the responsibility of being a superhero, but of bearing the weight of being a famous figure of hope. Something Dick had already done as the first Robin, and had helped at least a little two other teenagers navigate.

Now, I'm going to take a little tangent here to explain why Dick is the Clark in this situation.

When we talk about Dick's tragic backstory, a lot of little details change from retelling to retelling; but the one thing that stays consistent is the fact that Bruce took him in because Dick reminded him of himself. They both watched their parents get murdered at a young age (sometimes the exact same age, depending on the retelling); neither of them had any immediate family to take them in; both of them were only children who suddenly found themselves with the burden of being the sole carrier of their family's significant legacy. But that's pretty much where the similarities end.

Bruce was raised in a wealthy family, in a mansion in a major metropolitan city where his family had deep roots all the way back to its founding. Dick was raised by a very much working class family that lived out of a trailer/wagon/train most of, if not the entire year, traveling all across the country and/or globe. If they had a permanent residence anywhere, it was probably one of the suburbs around Tampa that were historically the off-season homes for circus performers (at least that's where I would put it).

Bruce was able to stay in his childhood home with a guardian who'd known him his whole life, who knew his family history and legacy. He was able to step into his family's legacy when he grew up and even expand it well beyond what his parents did.

Dick had to leave not only the circus he grew up in, he had to leave behind the entire community and culture and ended up being raised in a world that was completely different from it. Raised by a man who certainly respected his family and their history, but didn't know much about it or what their hopes and expectations had been for Dick.

While the path that eventually led him to becoming Batman began, for Bruce, that night when his parents were murdered, he didn't actually start seriously working towards and mentally taking on that responsibility until he was much older. In some cases he was in high school, in some not until after he graduated. But he taught himself and learned how to be a hero as an adult. He was in his twenties when he was taking the responsibility of other people's lives onto his own shoulders; when he was learning how to be most effective; when he was learning in real time the consequences of doing something wrong.

Dick started training and/or working as Robin the moment he became a permanent member of the Wayne household. He was anywhere between roughly 8 and 16, depending on the retelling, but in every version he was very a child or teenager taking on that responsibility of other people's lives, learning in real time the consequences of doing something wrong. He was trying to navigate school and a social life while feeling that responsibility for other people's safety and having this huge secret he couldn't talk about. He was given these special skills from his birth family's legacy that his adoptive parent warned him to hide from people lest they guess his secret. He had this overdeveloped strength and fighting skills that meant he had to consciously hold back when he fought bullies in school.

But while that doesn't describe Bruce, it does describe someone else in Dick's life: Clark. He lost his parents at a very young age leading him to be raised in a completely different culture and world by his adoptive parents. They respected his birth family and their culture, but knew nothing about them. They were a working class family, who lived in a small town. He developed his powers when he was just a kid. They were a part of his family legacy that his adoptive parents encouraged him to hide to keep his secret. They created a sense of responsibility in him at a young age to use them to help and protect people. They made it so that he had to hold back when he fought bullies in school. He had to learn how to navigate school and a social life while feeling that responsibility, while having this huge secret, and learning the consequences of doing something wrong when he was trying to protect people.

Clark related to Dick as a kid/teenager in ways that Bruce never really could. Clark understood a lot of the struggles Dick was facing, the weight on his shoulders. That's one of the many reasons he was, typically, very friendly and supportive of Dick; why he treated him as a respected colleague ; why he was always happy to spend time with and chat with Dick, even when Bruce wasn't around. He became a second trusted mentor to Dick, someone who understood what it was like to dedicate your entire life to protecting people; to spending your entire life as someone potentially dangerous to normal people; to being removed from your family legacy and their culture and taking up that of your adoptive family instead.

That's why, when Dick finds himself in situations where his life is drastically changing, one of his first stops is always Metropolis. That's why, when his life drastically changes and he doesn't come to Metropolis, Clark comes to check in on him. And Clark doesn't always have good advice to share to help Dick find his way. But he has enough similar life experience that it makes him pretty much the only mentor figure in Dick's life that Dick can really talk to who best understands him and his unique struggles.

Back to Jon.

When Jon was forced to become Superman, he was worried about how to be Superman. How to take on that kind of responsibility when he was so young. Clark sent him to Dick not just because he had a unique perspective on what Superman needs to be as someone who's been a fan, a colleague, and a friend; not just because he could teach Jon how to fight and protect himself and others even without his powers; not just because he's an excellent teacher. But because no other non-super has as much experience navigating the complex life of being a high profile kid superhero.

And Dick taught him. He trained him, and he told him about his father and his legacy, about who Superman was to the people who cared about him and worked with him.

And well after Dick's gone back to being Nightwing, even when he's not a constant fixture in Damian's life anymore, even when he's off in Bludhaven, when Jon finds himself struggling to navigate a new situation as a superhero, one of the first things he does is seek out Dick. Dick doesn't always have good advice to give him, but he does have similar experiences that help him understand Jon and his unique struggles.

[nymime]

I just can’t stop the thought of Steve as Kevin of Home Alone man.

A little Steve who was blond in his childhood but with the years he got brunette. (like his mom, she was also blonde in her childhood and on her 14 got brunette.)

A menace who is smart in his own way, creating home made traps for the assholes that tried to get in his house, afraid but putting a big boy faceted to beat those thieves of stealing his house, be sassy when those criminals got catch by the police (the old police chief loves him despise his family name, always go to watch him time to time even after he retired). Big dysfunctional family who treats him like trash, big brothers and sisters that he don’t talk with, cousins of his same age who he barely bear them sometimes, a mom who forgets him for stress with the rest of her husband family side, an incompetent dad who is focused in be cool and respected by his brother who is a major asshole. Scared of the homeless man who clean the streets and have a really scary expression according to him, befriend the crazy pigeon lady of the park, who ‘adopts him’ like a pigeon, giving him candies, hugs and funny stories to make him laugh.

And just the party + plus the young adults + older adults finding out cause the old crazy pigeon lady randomly hugged Steve and he hug her back, smiling like a child again when the lady gives him candies and a pat in his cheek, calling him her “sweet pigeon baby” and then just ignored the rest while walking away. The old retired chief who didn’t notice hopper (who in its moment was the one who replace him back them) but he approached Steve with a smile of a grandpa, patting his shoulder while asking him if he captured any other thieves those days, an amused look in his old eyes as he walk away without greeting Hopper cause he didn’t recognize him, to focus in the kid who considered family.

And then just Hopper ask the new chief, Powell, what the fuck is all this about, and the man just give him a huge archive with all the case. Eleven decide to do spooky telepathic magic to see those memories by seeing the archive, and everyone just looks like “:O”.

[thestarryeyedadmirer]

In my head, these four are brothers. Allow me to explain…

Tom:

Tom is the oldest of the bunch—the responsible one. An honest, well-mannered fellow, he’s spent his whole life having to look out for others, so he’s gotten pretty used to being the guy who speaks up and calls the shots. It doesn’t matter where he is, or who he’s with, he moves through life with a presentational sense of confidence and behaves as though he’s the top dog—in charge of everyone—which is something that stems from some deep-seeded childhood trauma. As far back as he can remember, he’s been second in command to his parents’ authority… the one that would handle his brothers’ petty disputes and emotional outbursts when his parents weren’t in the immediate vicinity. If something went wrong, he had to handle it… and when he couldn’t get things in order, he was the one who took the fall. Everything was his fault… and everything was his problem to fix. Each of his brothers’ actions were considered his actions, and every single one of his actions were seen an example… a precedent for his younger siblings. Somehow, the shame and paranoia that used to haunt him transformed into an unhealthy form of pride. These days, that natural tendency to overpower every other voice in a room tends to bite him in the butt… but it’s not totally a bad thing. With endless experience in being a mediator, Tom has grown to be an incredible problem solver and people-person, who values rationality and above all else, and possesses exceptional emotional intelligence. What’s right is right, and what’s wrong is wrong. There is no gray area or leeway… only reasonable explanations, that sway toward either side. These days, he’s still parenting his brothers in many ways—keeping them from making bad decisions, lending them money whenever they need it, and breaking up their petty fights. That’ll never change. He’s a successful author—who’s written several bestselling motivational, business, and self-help books in his career—the co-owner of a small chain of coffee shops on the west coast, and he’s invested in several local businesses all over the state. Even though that may sound like a lot… and it is… Tom isn’t exactly rolling around in millions—just one or two. Living by himself, in a big house by the beach, just a few hours away from his childhood home and immediate family, he’s pretty comfortable. He’s got no spouse to compromise with, no children to chastise, and nobody around to put any kind of pressure on him, and him feel like he’s doing something wrong. It’s just perfect.

Jordan:

Jordan is the second oldest—the bad boy. Growing up with Tom as his big brother, micromanaging his every move, and constantly filling his head with arbitrary concepts of right and wrong, Jordan has always enjoyed the thrill of breaking rules. Even as an adult, he hates having to answer to anyone, and will go out of his way to defy the wishes of any authority figures that he encounters. He’s not dangerous, by any means, but more of a petty pest—the kind of guy who pokes the bear for fun, until it mauls him to death. He doesn’t go overboard with the things that he does to spite people, or purposefully put anyone in danger… but he’s still an asshole. An asshole who, deep down, has a good heart… though he tries his best not to show it. Jordan flunked out of college because he stopped going to class, after spending an entire semester causing disruptions in lecture halls and cheating on assignments. He got kicked out of his parents’ house because he kept rigging all of the electronic appliances to shock whoever used them. He’s even been to jail a few times, for a handful of stupid non-violent crimes that he committed in his early twenties. Nothing serious. Jordan is such a dick, he can’t keep a job, or a partner, or even a roof over his head. He lives fast, breezes through his life like a speeding train—one thing after another, after another—and now he’s so far down the wrong path, he’s hit a dead end. In his late twenties, he wants nothing more than to get his life on track, and find some sense of stability… but old habits die hard, and abrasive personalities don’t change overnight. Having not spoken to his family for years, he’s recently reconnected with his brothers, CJ and Stephen, and is trying to make up for the lost time. As far as reconciling with Tom and their parents goes, it’s still a work in progress. Tom sends him money every now and then, and checks in on him from time to time, but they haven’t really spoken in ages. Aside from his brothers, Jordan has no other family to rely on—no serious partners, or any kids… that he knows of—so it’s important to him that he un-burns those bridges as soon as he can. These days, Jordan is either living out of his car or crashing at CJ’s apartment. He makes his money via Onlyfans, Fansly, and a wide selection of cam sites, just so he can get by. Seeing the wonders that it’s done for others—like CJ—and feeling as though he has no other legal options, he’s only testing the waters of the porn world while he waits for something better to come along, but the money is looking good, and the job prospects are thin. Maybe he’ll ride the wave a bit longer.

CJ:

Cj is the second youngest—the sexy himbo. He’s gone his whole life skating by on his looks alone, and he doesn’t plan on stopping anytime soon. He first knew he was handsome when he was a little boy… when women at the grocery store would stop him and his mother in the aisles and gush over how cute they thought he was. They’d pinch his cheeks, ruffle his hair, and go on and on about how he was going to be a heartbreaker when he grew up. Little did they know that they were creating a little monster. When he got to elementary school, and started to interact with other kids more frequently, he quickly noticed how all of the little girls in his class would fawn over him. They’d bat their little eyelashes and giggle like mice whenever he spoke… and, at first, it made him a bit uncomfortable. He wasn’t used to that kind of attention from kids his age. Most, if not all of his typical admirers were grown women, just being sweet… but, as the years went on, and the girls got more bold, he began to learn how to use his looks to his advantage, and get the better of his peers. CJ wasn’t good at long division in third grade, so he’d always ask the smart girls to do his math homework for him—bribe them with quick kisses, or by inviting them to play with him at recess, and use them like his own personal minions. They were so easy to trick. Middle school was just the same. He got taller, his voice dropped, his teenage features started to take shape, and his lean physique became more muscular… and from the time he entered the sixth grade, all the way up through the end of his eighth grade year, he hardly ever had to try academically. That’s how easy life was for him, up until he graduated high school. Instead of doing things himself, he’d just pass the buck to someone else and take the credit for what they did—whether it was a beautiful, naive girl, or his own brothers—and, by the time he was a legal adult, he had nothing to show for himself. He couldn’t do simple math, or read any books that didn’t have interesting pictures on them. He couldn’t cook for himself, do his own laundry, or drive a car. He could hardly even hold a conversation. Tom tried to help him learn, teaching him how to care for himself—past maintaining his appearance—but he quickly gave up the effort when his career started to take off. Left to his own devices, as an extremely late bloomer, CJ didn’t have any of the skills that it took to make it as an adult… but he did have his amazing body. Using what he had in order to get what he wanted, CJ dove headfirst into the porn industry, taking any job that came his way, and stacking up the money. He did both amateur and professional work—hardcore stuff, fetish stuff, taboo stuff, and vanilla. He slept with guys, girls, and everyone in between, all in an effort to make enough cash to move out of his parents’ house and live on his own… and it didn’t take long before he had the keys to his very own apartment. Now, he’s living by himself, pumping out NSFW content like a peon factory, making thousands of dollars a week, and showing Jordan how he can do the same. Having been in the business for a few years, CJ is a very successful entertainer… and, after years of being a lackluster student, he’s finally discovering the joys of teaching and mentoring someone else, for a change.

Stephen:

Stephen is the youngest—the kind-hearted, awkward geek, who’s just trying to start what will be the rest of his life on the right track. Having idolized his eldest brother, Tom, for pretty much all of his life, Stephen knows that it takes hard work, intelligence, and integrity to be successful in this world, and he wants to build a great foundation for the rest of his life to thrive on. He sees the things that his other brothers are doing, and he doesn’t judge them for it, or see them as any lesser, but he knows that he wants more for himself than what they have. He wants to be like Tom. His only problem is that he’s in his first semester of college, and he still doesn’t know what he wants to do with his life yet. There are so many possibilities, and so many paths that he could follow. He could be a doctor, or an engineer, or a writer. He always did have an interest in biology and anatomy, and he’s got his academic transcripts are outstanding. He could be an architect, or go into the business world. The choices are endless! Just barely nineteen, living under his parents’ roof, he’s a blank canvas with the world at his feet… and he has no idea what he wants to do with it yet.

Maybe I’ll end up writing some story with these characters soon… explore them some more.

[sunboki]

🎥 NEXT TUESDAY ┆ part one of "My Shirt"

boxer!lee minho x gn. reader

warnings — cursing

genre — boxer au, enemies to lovers, hinted strangers to lovers

word count — 1.2k

aug’s notes — got reminded of how leeknow used to do boxing, wanted to write something i might follow up on with a part two? this is kinda like a test product :)

“You should take a self defense class since you live alone now dear.”

No Mrs. Kathy, you don’t need a self defense class. You don’t want to go to a self defense class, and living alone does not make you a weak and vulnerable person. In fact, you’re thriving with your own company.

But that’s not what you said. Of course not, Mrs. Kathy was simply a nosy old woman doing her nosy old job, it felt pathetic to let her words get under your skin.

“I might do that! Thank you for the suggestion.” You lied, lips pulled into a tight smile.

As much as you would’ve preferred to disregard the interaction and proudly admit what she said was long forgotten, it wasn’t. Instead, it bugged and bugged. Until you simply couldn’t bear to repeat that god-forsaken phrase for the 100th time and had to confess.

“Don’t get me wrong, Mrs. Kathy is a nice woman but this is really, really getting to me.” You deflate, arms stretched out on the wooden table. Sitting across from you Chris, your coworker, cocks a brow. He’s impressed. It’s been a while since you’ve had an itch like this.

“Look at you, dealing with your first problem in the big scary adult world.” God, even if you went deaf you’d still hear the teasing in his voice.

Except you’re used to this, used to his antics despite the sweetness you know him for personally. Chris was an older brother to you, an undeniably attractive and charismatic brother that was being an ass at the moment.

You mutter a “I’ve been in the adult world” under your breath, assuming he heard the remark from the knowing smirk sent your way. Great help dude. You’re a savior.

“‘Just playing, I can hook you up.” There’s a certain lilt to his voice you can’t quite translate as he stares down at his drink, dissolving the salt covering the rim of his margarita into the cocktail.

“Hook me up? This isn’t arranging my marriage so I can make sure to get married before thirty asshole.” He scoffs at your bitterness, warm brown eyes flickering back at you with mischief glittering beneath hardly visible irises.

“I mean you wouldn’t be living alone anymore-OKAY okay. But on a serious note. I can arrange something. I have a friend. His name’s Minho, I think he’d be the perfect person to help you out.”

There’s that lilt in the voice again, and somehow, perhaps in the midst of your desperation, you agree.

2 pm, Tuesday. In front of the real sketchy looking building. You have to walk into the place and go down the stairs to your left, from there you’ll figure it out.

If GTA was real, you think one of the buildings would look like the one in front of you.

Graffiti covered the walls, and you couldn’t feel more out of place in the foreign downtown surroundings. Minho. His name was Minho. That’s all you need to remember. Oh, and the stairs to your left. That too.

When you first stepped in, you were pleasantly surprised to find the space not occupied with greasy men and the smell of cigarette smoke, but a diner. Light blue hues here and there, and dimmed lights placed above each booth. A few glances here and there, but the atmosphere wasn’t all too bad.

Almost immediately you caught sight of the stairs hidden in a far corner, your step forward increasing the sound of bass seeping through the walls—getting louder as you approached the door at the bottom. And whatever had earlier crossed your mind was now completely gone without a trace upon turning the knob.

Inside was a boxing ring. Not a self defense class or a gym, but a nicely sized room with a boxing ring on one side and punching bags scattered on the other. Even with the new surroundings, the revelation of what you’d gotten yourself into hadn’t quite registered yet. Especially not when the one man appearing to be around your age in the middle of the ring pulled off his helmet and boxing gloves and turned to face you.

He was painstakingly beautiful. Dyed grey hair tousled in bizarre directions due to the helmets jostling, dark chestnut eyes similar to that of Chris’ yet the strangers’ were more soulful.

“I think I came to the wrong place, sorry I’ll be leaving..” You hurriedly reach for the door before he speaks, effectively stopping you in your tracks.

“If you’re the one Chris mentioned you’re in the right place. Either come or go, don’t waste my time.”

Initially he seemed passive, his tone then distorting into impatience. To say his bluntness surprised you underestimated the situation. With these circumstances though you found yourself more enticed than offended.

“You really suck at introductions.” One step forward, one step closer to this stranger you had no idea about. He could’ve been a mass killer for all you knew. It didn’t matter right now because his attitude was the only thing determining your next move.

“Oh? Wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings sweetheart,”

He leaned forward, a conniving tilt of his head used to address you.

“Lee Minho. It’s a pleasure.”

One fact about Lee Minho. He has a shit-eating smile when he gets his way. It pisses you off.

“I could say the same.” You basically spat, watching him collect additional gear.

He threw the items your way, leading you into the ring. The more you considered it the funnier it became, realizing you were surely not dressed in proper boxing attire compared to this noticeable veteran.

“Ever boxed before?”

“Nope, I do want to beat that look off your face though.” His shit-eating smile returned, giving you a once over.

Opening his arms, it’s almost like he’s daring you to give it your all. Another part of Lee Minho that pisses you off. His arrogance.

Somehow, it’s kind of hot.

You wait for his move, dodging narrowly and attempting to land hits yourself till you notice a glove placed on your shoulder. Holding there, not going through with the move.

“There.”

“And there.” This cycle goes on, pointing out open spots. Your frustration bubbles furiously, blindly swinging before being swiped off your feet to pummel on the ground in exhaustion. Minho squats down from above you, index tapping your chest that causes you to squeak out in surprise.

“I’d recommend wearing a thicker shirt next time, but I don’t mind the view.” Embarrassingly enough, due to the sweat clinging to your skin your bra was very much visible through your shirt. The man only shrugging and hopping to his feet.

Wait.

“Next time?” Your lips pull at the corners, following not far behind him putting equipment away. He doesn’t reply, earning a satisfied hum from you. Bingo.

Out of nowhere, a t-shirt is thrown your direction.

“Put it on. You can give it to me next Tuesday. You better come back.”

You somewhat wish you would’ve said thank you of a sort, maybe bothered him about his red ears. Except all you did was wave a goodbye and watch him disappear upstairs. Apparently marking the end of this uniquely strange.. boxing class? Something like that.

. ..

FaceTiming Chris the next morning before work, you listened to him talk until the line quieted and you found him squinting at your shirt.

"Whose shirt is that?"

all rights reserved by @sunboki. repost and plagiarism will not be tolerated.

[meetmypointlessaddiction]

Joel Miller x f!reader: Drunk

Summary: Your boyfriend is being a work obsessed dick so you send him out to get drunk with his brother. Warnings: Alcohol consumption, allusion to smut (i think?), soft!joel, drunk!joel, kind of asshole!joel at the beginning, Please let me know if there is anything that I've forgot to put a warning for. This has not been proof read so any mistakes are completely my fault. Enjoy and don't forget to reblog and like so that the algorithm can do its thing. Words: 1,3k

Joel Miller was an asshole to most people. To his employees, to people he saw on the street, he came across as an asshole but that was simply the charm of him. In reality, he was a polite Texan gentleman who loved his girlfriend and family but just so happened to have a resting bitch face and a natural dickish tone. 

To you, Joel Miller was a teddy bear. You made each other breakfast and coffee on a morning, got ready for the day together and once you were both home from work, you relaxed together. But ever since Joel’s construction company had taken off, relaxing evenings turned into you begging Joel to stop looking a blueprints and just pay attention to the movie for once. Instead of both of you destressing, Joel never stopped and you got more worked up trying to get him to relax. 

Eventually, you had to bring in reinforcements in the form of Tommy Miller. Tommy had planned a night out for the boys from work and Joel had been invited but had not so politely turned it down with the excuse of not wanting his boys to have to spend their night with him. Contrary to what Joel believed, many of his boys wanted him there. His quick wit and dry humour made him popular amongst his employees as well as the fact that he didn’t take anyone’s shit. If you aren’t doing your job, you faced the consequences but if you did your job well, you would roll in the rewards. 

“I’m not going.” Joel grunted as he sat back down at the kitchen table, documents piling high and his reading glasses sat beside them. 

“Joel Miller I will drag you into your brother’s truck kicking and screaming if I have to.” You threatened and Joel, like a goddamn child, fucking pouted. 

“Why? I don’t want to spend my night with them and they don’t-.” 

“You’re going. You’re going to get some alcohol into your system, socialise with somebody who isn’t me and I hope to god you come back drunk and without this new workaholic asshole that has sprouted.” You yelled and Joel fell silent, flicking through the pages of his paperwork. “And if you pick up that pen once more, I’ll fucking jam it up your asshole.” 

Joel smirked and opened his mouth to come up with some snarky reply but you were quick to cut him off. “And it will be the only form of action you get for a helluva long time.” Your harsh words seemed to put his brain back into gear and he sighed. 

“What time’s Tommy getting here?” He asked and you grinned, mood doing a complete 360. 

“He’s on his way, you look great.” You smiled brightly, brushing a few of his stray locks back into place and pecking his lips. “Enjoy.” He walked to the door, scowl on his face and Tommy couldn’t hold back his laughter as he pulled up outside his brother’s home. 

“I owe your girl $30. Get in, we’re headed straight to the bar.” Tommy cheered as Joel pulled himself into the passenger seat with a low growl, not ready for the night ahead. 

Somehow, drunk Joel was so much worse than sober Joel. Instead of making quick remarks at everything anyone said to him, he stared wistfully at his phone screen, head resting on one hand as he stared at the photo of you from a few months ago, his favourite one of you to date. “C’mon big brother, lighten up a little. She’s set some kind of reverse curfew, doesn’t want you back any earlier than 11.” Joel hummed in agreement, now scrolling through his entire camera album dedicated to you. 

Once Tommy had managed to get a few more beers in him, he offered him a game of pool and Joel seemed to brighten up a little bit, missing the days when he and Tommy would go to their local bar every night and shoot pool for hours at a time. “I’m pretty sure I beat your ass last time.” Joel teased and Tommy rolled his eyes. 

“You got years on me old man.” Tommy snarked back and Joel barked a laugh, racking up the balls while Tommy chalked up the cues. 

After a few games with varying opponents and a concoction of different drinks, Joel was ready to go home, Tommy more than happy being the designated driver. “She’ll be proud, it’s almost 12.” He chuckled and Joel shrugged, ready to go home and see his girl. 

Climbing out of the truck, he stumbled to the front door, looking for his key before almost falling through the door when it opened. “Goddamn! There’s a fuckin’ angel in my house. Tommy there’s an angel in my house!” You nodded your thanks to Tommy before he drove off and then led your man into the kitchen. “Hi baby.” He drawled and you couldn’t help but smile. 

“Hey handsome. You have fun?” She asked and he shook his head. 

“Kicked all their asses.” He slurred, almost falling against the counter as you steadied him. 

“Oh yeah?” Joel nodded and you handed him a glass of water watching his face sour. 

“No more vodka. Have to go see my girlfriend.” You chuckled and pushed the pill into his hand and nodded. 

“Well your girlfriend said this pill is gonna make you feel better and you need to drink water before we go to bed.” Joel thought about it and you knew just what to say to convince him. 

“She even said you might get lucky tomorrow if you take the pill.” You hummed and he threw his head back, swallowing the pill and then downing the water, slamming the glass on the side for dramatic effect. “And now you need to brush your teeth because I’m not going to kiss you with the taste of whatever ‘Tommy special’ you’ve been drinking. 

“Thought you like my kisses?” He frowned, eyes wide and you smiled. 

“I do baby but I’ll probably get drunk from one kiss and we only need one drunk in this house.” You teased, taking his hand and dragging him towards the stairs, doing an awkward shuffle to drag and guide him up each step. Halfway to the bathroom Joel stopped moving and you looked at him with amusement sparkling in your eyes. “Everything ok?” 

“No.” Joel grabbed your wrist and stomped over to the bed, flopping on it and pulling you on top of him, quickly flipping your position and resting his head on your chest, looking up at you. “Missed you.” He hummed, reaching up to press a kiss to your chin, leaning up on his elbows and pressing a multitude of extremely delicate kisses across your face. “I like you.” 

You staved off a laugh and smiled. “I like you too. Can we go brush our teeth now?” He shook his head, his eyes holding some kind of childish innocence to them as he pecked each area of your face. 

“I love you.” He muttered against your nose and you giggled. 

“Joel, I can taste the vodka on your breath. Please can we go brush our teeth. We’ll come straight back to bed and we don’t have to leave until tomorrow afternoon.” You tried but he just shook his head. 

“Sorry for being an asshole. Shouldn’t be working so much.” He murmured and you smiled. 

“It’s been stressful for you but it’s ok. We’ll get through it. Thank you for apologising.” You whispered and he nodded, going back to pressing kissed along your hairline. 

“You didn’t say you love me.” He mumbled shyly and you chuckled. 

“I love you with every atom in my body, Joel Miller. I love your grumpy looking face and your scary voice and I can’t imagine my life with out you but for the love of us can we please go and brush your teeth. You smell like you brought the entire damn bar home.” 

“Fine but only because you love me.”

[michaelceraifhewasagirl]

I accidentally assaulted Clarisse

NEW SERIES ALERT

summary: A new girl at camp, but…. She’s different..

warnings: minimal swearing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ow. “Ow” is a onomatopoeia, I think, but it didn’t matter if I was grammatically correct, because I had just hit Clarisse La Rue in the head with a rubber axe during practice with the Stoll brothers, and she was now sitting on the ground in a fetal position, holding her head in agony, and staring at me with anger in her eyes.

“Oh my God” I muttered under my breath, as I slowly backed away. “Avery, come back, she’s, she’s not going to hurt you!” Connor Stoll pleaded, but then Clarisse began to get off of the grass and I sprinted towards the strawberry fields. I looked around frantically, trying to see if Clarisse was still following me, but then I caught a glimpse of Beckendorf scolding Clarisse, and I visibly relaxed. 

Okay, quick Backstory: two days ago I nearly got killed by a big bear-wolf thing. A goat-child told me that my mom fucked a Greek God and I’m the offspring. If that makes sense. I thought my mom was Hindu, can multiple Gods exist at once? Anyways, the goat guy brought me back to this cool camp and I got to talk to a horse man and a LITERAL GREEK GOD but he was an asshole so I don’t really care about him to be honest. Fast forward to now, this is my first day training, and I somehow managed to injure 5 people, including myself. 

I was sitting down under a tree, trying to catch my breathe after running a fricking marathon trying to not get stabbed by Clarisse, when I noticed one of the Stoll brothers coming up to me, Connor, was it? “Hey, Avery,” he greeted 

“My name is Aikaterini”

“…Can I call ya’ Avery?”

“No”

“Fair enough,” he nodded, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah” I responded “She’s just… She’s terrifying” and Connor chuckled.

“She’s not that scary, give her a chance, she’s tolerable” he said, and gave me his hand to take to get up off of the dirt, and I took it and dusted off my pants when I was off my butt, “She wants to kill me” I retorted and Connor grimaced. “Stay outta trouble, okay? And be careful”, I nodded and he offered a hand on my shoulder as comfort before heading off somewhere to scold an Ares kid, or kill a small child, one of the two.

I awkwardly walked to the Hermes cabin, in which I was staying in, since my father hadn’t claimed me as yet. I hope he does. I heard a lot of undetermined kids get stuck at the Hermes cabin because their bitch-ass parents didn’t claim them. Anyways, I was like, an Inch away from the cabin, before the boat goy came up to me, wait, no that didn’t sound right, anyways, he came up to me, “Chiron needs to talk to you” he said and he practically dragged me by my arm towards a big building “Who’s Chiro- woah! Okay, so I guess I don’t get to say no”

We arrived inside the building and I paled at the sight of the old horse guy. “Aikaterini Balakrishnan, how are you? Getting along well with the rest of camp?” I could tell that he was trying to make conversation, but I couldn’t focus when there was a 7-foot centaur standing infront of me “I… uh… yeah” was what I managed to choke out before glancing around the room, and noticing that the asshole of a Greek God was sitting at the table, with a irritable look on his face and I rolled my eyes.

The centaur sat down on his hind legs and offered me a seat at the table, where I noticed that they were playing a card game “You’re playing Pinochle.” Chiron raised an eyebrow “Why, yes, do you know how to play?” “Yeah, my mom taught me, well, actually, she taught me Bezique, but I taught myself how to play Pinchole” Chiron nodded in approval “You know how to play Bezique as well, that is quite impressive for a girl your age” I blushed in embarrassment, “Yeah, I guess, why did you call me in here?” “Ah,” he put down his pack of cards and looked at me.

“Do you know what tomorrow is?” He asked

“Friday” I responded confidently

“Yes!” He clapped his hands excitedly and I squinted my eyes “Huh?” Mr. D groaned and stepped out of the room, and Chiron waved him away “Don’t take him on. Tomorrow is Friday! Which means we are playing capture the flag!” He explained and I pursed my lips “You guys actually do things in this place besides trying to impale people or set people on fire?” And Chiron grimaced, “Now now, girl, what happened yesterday with Sanya was a mistake, she was just trying to make a sword and her hair caught on fire, it was a, what is it you children say now-a-days? No biggie” I raised my eyebrows “So why don’t you go find a group to be apart of, huh? Get out there, make some friends, I heard you were training with the Stoll brothers, cheeky bastards, aren’t they?” I furrowed my eyebrows “No, no, they aren’t cheeky, they seem really nice” I said and Chiron chuckles, “That is until they steal a family heirloom from you” “Why would they steal from me?” Chiron seemed suprised I didn’t know about these things, “Aikaterini, their father is Hermes, the God of thievery” “I thought he was the God of messengers?”

Chiron looked at me with a thoughtful look on his face, “Has your mother not thought you anything about your roots?” “Not really, I’m Hindu, I grew up believing in Hindu Gods, now, I don’t know what I believe.” If my mother knew that, that Greek Gods are real, and not just fiction, then why would she grow me up with a religion?” “I am sure your mother had her reasons, that of which, I do not know, but you will come to find out anyways, now, I’d like you to meet some people, if that’s okay with you,” I nodded. Chiron called the goat boy, in which I learnt his name, being Grover, into the room, “Yes?” “It would be appreciated if you could kindly locate our respective leaders, those being one for Team Blue and another for Team Red." Grover nodded and came back into the room shortly with a two girls, a pretty one, with long box braids, and then Clarisse.

“Ladies, we have a new camper joining us, I’m sure you have seen her around, I am going to be making a public announcement soon, tomorrow, before the tournament, but for now, you can introduce yourself to her, and maybe recruit her to your team,” Chiron smiled and I looked at them and awkwardly waved, “Hi, uhm, hi Clarisse, sorry for hitting you, uhm, at- at the uh, the axe throwing thing, sorry” I swallowed nervously “My name is Aikaterini, it’s long, I know, you can call me, Kat, or whatever” my voice cracked and I made a mental note to hit myself in the head with a bat later.

“Hi, I’m Annabeth, I’m blue team leader” “You’re not joining the red team”

“Clarisse.” Chiron butted in, “Atleast see what she can do before you make a decision, now go on, bond, I want to finish this game of Pinochle.” We left the building and Annabeth made conversation “So, do you have any special training? Or any training at all?” “Uhm, I can do kumon?” Annabeth looked at me, a puzzled look rested on her face “What is that?” “It’s like… maths” and Clarisse snorted, Annabeth glared at her, “I mean, physical combat. Do you know any form of self defence?” “I, I can dance?” Clarisse butted in “Yeah, no, Annabeth, you can have her on your team.” I looked down in embarrassment, God, I wanna go home. “What kind of dance can you do? Ballet?” “Kuchipudi,” “Okay, I don’t know what that is, how hard do you have to train for that?” “Not as hard as ballet, probably, but if you saw me do it you would be terrified” “You can’t be any scarier than any monster I’ve ever fought, if you put the same energy that you put into dancing into training, then you’ll be a pro in no time” 

I smiled at her, she was nice, unlike Clarisse, who was walking away, I didn’t mind though, being on the blue team seemed like the better choice. I guess we’ll see how the tournament goes tomorrow, but for now, I’m going see if I’m any good at hand-to-hand combat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ hey guise 😁 I hope you enjoyed the first part of this Pjo fandom seriesssss 💗💗 nones of the characters in this stories except my oc’s (Aikaterini Balakrishnan) that were used in the story so far are mine. I wanted to add a Desi character to this story because they don’t get enough recognition 💗💗 Please lmk what you think about this in the comments and lmk what else you would liek to see in this series 💗 idrk where I’m going with this but I am not gonna let this story go to waste, I’ll try to get it done but I got school and stuff so 😪😪 thanks for reading 💗

[syd-djarin]

Sugar, Spice & Please Fuck Me Nice (neighbor!joel AU)

chapter three: fair game - in collaboration with @katiexpunk

*18+ Minors DNI*

Word count: ~6.5k

a/n: katie and I wrote to our slutty hearts' desires. srsly she is a smut fairy & loving friend. plz follow her. @katiexpunk

warning(s): SMUUUUUT.

tags: f & m masturbation, 2000s style (needs a TW lol), joel is a little rough/bossy, unprotected p in v, creampie, blowjob, pet names, praise kink, spitting (1), fair date, eating, flirting

NOV 2005

You can’t stop thinking about that night at Joel’s a week ago. The way he touched you, pleasured you in a way that you've never experienced before. The way he kissed you, fervently yet soft. You could kiss him for hours and never tire. 

Not only are you craving his touch, but you also find yourself wanting to learn more about him. You want to know him. The things you’ve learned about him through Sarah and what you’ve picked up on are tiny crumbs, leaving you starving for more. 

You hope he feels the same. 

You haven’t had a chance to talk to Joel since that night, as you’ve been drowning at work. You started working for this publishing firm in college, first, as an intern, and now that you’ve finished school, you’re an editor. You agreed to take on extra responsibilities due to your coworker being out on maternity leave, which has exponentially increased your workload, on top of your boss being a micromanaging asshole.

Joel’s been burning the candle at both ends. He’s working against a tight deadline on a big project for a persnickety client and Sarah’s soccer team is in the playoffs for the district championship; he’s incredibly proud but attending her neverending roster of games has left him a bit preoccupied. He never thought he would end up being a soccer dad, but life has a funny way of keeping him on his toes. 

Much like you, he’s replayed you squirting on his leather couch in his mind over and over, a never-ending lascivious reel that plays in his head as he fucks his cock at night. Joel longs to hear those saccharine sounds you make while you ride his cock, your tits bouncing in tandem with your movements. He’s kicking himself for not getting his hands, or mouth, on your pillowy breasts. The cheekiness of forgoing a bra in your bunny costume revealed a side of you that he wants to unleash. 

He wants to know everything; what keeps you up at night, what makes you double over in laughter, your ticklish spots, which movies make you cry without fail, all of your little quirks. Hell, he even wants to know if you believe in aliens. 

+++

You pull into your driveway after a long, grueling day at work. Your brain is so fried you didn’t even turn the music on for the drive home; a rarity for you since you always have music playing in your car, whether it be the FM radio or one of the various CDs you’ve collected over the years. A true indicator of your current state of being. You can’t wait to veg out on the couch, rid your mind of this shitty week, and huddle into an antisocial ball. 

After a few moments of idly sitting in your car, you peel yourself from the driver’s seat and go to retrieve your work tote from your trunk when you hear a deep voice calling out to you, one you’d recognize anywhere. You turn in the direction of the sound and find Joel. He’s clearly working on a renovation project; a miter saw, lumber and a plethora of other tools are set up in his front yard. There’s another man with him, bearing a slight resemblance to Joel. Brothers, maybe? 

“Hey, neighbor!” Joel immediately regrets his word choice, finding it oddly stiff — considering he’s had his face between your thighs. 

“Hey Joel!” You manage to shout back, despite your energy battery being crucially depleted. 

He waves for you to come over. Unfortunately, or fortunately, you’re unable to resist him. Not when he’s covered in a sheen of sweat, hair tousled, and coaxing you across the street. 

Though you feel drained, being in close proximity to Joel makes your body thrum in nerves. You’re being energized by anxious attraction. 

Joel and the mystery man greet you at the edge of the yard. 

“This is my brother Tommy. Tommy, this is my neighbor.” 

“So, this is the pretty neighbor you were tellin’ me about,” Tommy says, his southern drawl identical to Joel’s. 

Joel glares at Tommy. If looks could kill. 

Tommy holds out his hand, you tell him your name and give him your hand for a brief shake; much like Joel’s does, his palm size is large in comparison to yours and envelops your full hand. You survey the man in front of you; handsome, dark curly hair like Joel, slightly longer and free of the grays his brother sports, deep brown eyes, similar to Joel’s. The Miller genes are super fucking strong. 

“Nice to meet ya, sweetheart,” he says, nodding his head in acknowledgment, his eyes dragging over your figure just a second too long. 

“I’m gonna start packin’ these tools up,” Tommy announces to Joel and then shoots him a wink. It’s obvious he wasn’t aiming for subtlety, clearly wanting to give you and his brother a moment alone. 

Joel shifts his broad frame to face you directly. You wish you didn’t feel so bashful in his presence, but it’s hard to breathe evenly when he is standing so close you can smell him - earthy and a hint of his deodorant wearing off. It should be gross to you, but you want to put his scent in a candle. You’re fucking deranged. 

“Sorry, ‘m all sweaty…” Joel apologizes, looking down at himself, remembering that he probably reeks like a locker room. 

You wave off his apology, giggling at his self-awareness. 

“I wanted to ask you somethin’,'' Joel says, gently wrapping his hand around your arm right above your elbow. Goosebumps erupt on your skin at the touch of his calloused fingers. 

“Okay…” 

“I was wonderin’...” Joel pauses, his fingers now grazing over the soft skin of your arm. 

You gulp in anticipation. “Yes, Joel?” 

“I was wonderin’ if you’d like to go on a date with me,'' he asks, his eyes dropping to his boots for a second before coming back up to meet yours, “a proper one.” 

You’re so giddy at his proposition you think you might burst.

“Well, you know…I’ve gotta check my calendar,” you say, a big grin plastered on your face. You see his face drop, but before he can sulk too much you wink at him and say, “yeah, I’d love to,” you exhale and try to keep your voice level, not wanting to give away how excited you actually are. A date. With Joel Miller. 

“You free tomorrow?” he asks, beaming, revealing the dimpled smile you’re so fond of. 

“Lucky for you, I am,” you say, feeling your skin warm. 

“Pick you up at 7?” he asks, dipping his face closer to yours, his hand now on your waist pulling you into him. 

“Works for me,” you confirm while planting a chaste kiss on his cheek, “see you then, neighbor!” you conclude, being sure to emphasize the neighbor in your words, and before he can convince you to stay, you’re sauntering across the street back to your house.

+++

It’s finally here. Your big date with Joel.

The day went by torturously slow, anticipation pulsing through your entire body.

You spent almost two hours getting ready, the majority of the time trying to pick an outfit. You probably changed 30 times, trying to find the outfit that conveyed the perfect balance of sexy, yet subdued. 

You decide on a pair of dark wash flares and a lacy top, both accentuating your figure heavenly. You spritz on a little perfume you save for special occasions. If this ain’t a hell of an occasion. 

Joel, with impeccable timing, rings the doorbell right as you tug your black cowboy boots on. It’s sill relatively warm in Austin, so you decide to forgo a jacket. 

Opening the door, you and Joel take a moment to check the other out, neither of you trying to hide it whatsoever. Joel’s wearing his signature jeans and a green flannel with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, exposing his veiny, strong forearms. You’d hump his arms given the opportunity. 

“Absolutely stunnin’, sweetheart,” he licks his bottom lip while his brown irises roam over your entire body, paying special attention to your waist and tits. You’re mentally patting yourself on the back for your outfit choice. 

“One could say the same for you, cowboy,” you quip back, a smug grin plastered across your face. 

Your smile shoots blood straight to Joel’s cock. 

He swallows as he realizes the night is just beginning. 

+++

Joel takes you to a quaint diner for your date. From the outside, it’s unassuming; an older building in urgent need of a pressure wash, adjacent to a virtually empty shopping center. A true hole-in-the-wall in the middle of downtown Austin. 

“It doesn’t look like much on the outside, but I promise ya, they got the best damn burgers in town,” he assures, seeing the questioning look on your face when he pulls into the parking lot. 

You and Joel slide into a booth in the far corner, Joel insisting that booth seating is part of the experience. You both order burgers, per his recommendation and boy, it does not disappoint. 

Between bites of food, you and Joel learn more about each other. The conversation flows easily, both hanging onto each other’s every word; no awkwardness or feigning interest. You both share parts of your childhoods and you share stories from your college days. Joel recounts the mischief he and Tommy got into when they were younger, earning several belly laughs from you. 

Joel loves the way you laugh; candidly, throwing your head back, your shoulders jerking uncontrollably as you try to catch a breath. 

You’re pleased to learn that both you and Joel have a fondness for 80’s action movies, especially the over-the-top-borderline-cheesy ones, and 70’s artists like Fleetwood Mac and Electric Light Orchestra.

Joel asks about your job as an editor. You tell him the different types of manuscripts you have to read; some you drudge through, others you enjoy. “I love seeing how the story progresses from the first rough draft up until the final copy,” you tell him,” a lot of authors are really full of themselves, so you have to boil down a lot of the flowery language and hubris.” 

In return, he tells you about how he got started as a contractor, hard work rewarded him with promotions until he opened up his own contracting business six years ago. “It’s priceless gettin’ to be your own boss,” he says, “not havin’ to answer to anyone, can be more selective in projects you wanna take on,” he continues, and you swear you’re listening but you’re secretly caught up in the sound of his voice and the way his lips move when he’s talking; hypnotizing you with every word.

Joel opens up about when Sarah came into this world; the happiest day of his life while simultaneously being scared shitless — he was wild and ungovernable, definitely not ready for fatherhood.  

Through the years he’s found his rhythm. He doesn’t talk about her mother and you don’t ask; you’re not looking to dig into that lore on the first date. He tells you what Sarah was like as a baby and the subsequent years. Your heart melts at the adoration and pride that glow in his eyes when he talks about his daughter. 

You both sit in the overused booth, totally absentminded to the world around you. You’re both locked into one another, afraid of missing even the faintest shift in facial expressions. You might as well be the only two people here. 

Taking the final bite of your burger, you tell Joel that you’re inclined to agree that these are the best burgers in town. 

He mumbles something to the effect of “told ya,” before finishing his last bite. 

On the ride home from the diner, you spot an illuminated Ferris wheel, glowing in the distance of the Austin night. 

“Oh, I didn’t know the fair was still in town. I haven’t been in years!” exclaiming a little loudly for a woman your age, “can we…..?” 

Joel can’t say no to you, not when you’re giving him a pleading, pouty look. 

+++ 

Once inside the fairgrounds, you both walk through the selection of vendors, and it doesn’t take long for the funnel cake sign to catch your eye; Joel purchases you one and you continue on your adventure together. 

“Here,” he says, offering you a paper napkin. 

You gently shake your head, shoving another bite of funnel cake into your mouth, “don’t need one.”

He laughs. You look like a stubborn child learning what sugar is for the first time, “you’re gonna get all sticky,” he says, a big grin enveloping his face, your eagerness for the sweetness of the battered dough reminds him of Sarah’s sweet tooth. God, you’re cute – it makes him wish she was with you both tonight. 

Well, that is until he notices it. It’s subtle, but it’s there – a sprinkling of powdered sugar on your cheek and exposed chest.

He knows this is a family event, but he wants to do anything but PG-rated things with you right now.  

He stares at the white dust on your skin until your voice catches his attention again. 

“Maybe I want to be sticky,” you reply, “gives you more to lick off of me later.” 

And fuck, if that doesn’t turn him on. 

The thought of his tongue on you sends a flood of impure thoughts to his brain; much like the ones he had when you first showed up at his door, covered in remnants of flour, all sugar and sweetness. 

He knows now.

You may be sugar, but fuck, if you haven’t got some spice in you, too. 

+++ 

As you stroll, your eyes grow wide when you see it; a yellow wooden sign with the words “bobbing for apples” in Comic Sans engraved into it. 

“Ah! Joel! Bobbing for apples! I haven’t done that since I was a kid – we have to do it!” you say, your voice is a little too eager and a little too high-pitched, but the childlike wonder on your face is all the convincing that Joel needs. He might not admit it, but he’d give you anything you want. You reach out for his hand, and he takes it, letting you lead the way. 

You and Joel make your way up to the station, and a fair worker in an apron and a straw hat shouts to the crowd, “Come one, come all! Test your skills at an apple grab; the winner gets a prize,” his voice is low in octave but loud enough like he’s speaking through a megaphone. 

A line of fair-goers of all ages quickly forms around the barrels filled with water and apples, and you look at Joel with eager eyes as you step up to yours.

The rules of the game were explained by the worker with a chuckle, “Alright, folks, no hands, just your teeth. Lean in, and bob for an apple, and what you catch is yours to keep plus a prize from the booth to the right.” 

“You sure about this, sweetheart? You’re gonna get all wet,” Joel asks, probably just a smidge too concerned about your well-being considering it’s just bobbing for apples. 

“You gonna act like you don’t know that I’ve been wet this entire night?” you say, not waiting  to hear his response as the worker calls out a loud “GO!” 

Giggles and cheers fill the air as you and your fellow participants lean over the barrel. Your face disappears into the water; your competitiveness in overdrive  – edging yourself deeper and deeper into the water; so far that your shirt gets soaked. You don’t care, though, and you gleam from satisfaction as you resurface with a gleaming red apple held triumphantly between your teeth. 

The crowd erupts in applause at your efforts, and Joel stands watching you with his hands on his hips, a smile plastered on his face. As his gaze drops from the apple in your mouth, he notices the wetness of your shirt and shit, you’re positively drenched. 

It takes Joel all of .0002 seconds to notice the silhouette of your nipples peeking out from your shirt, the goosebumps littering your skin, and the tail ends of your hair wet and starting to curl under the weight of the water. 

You drop the apple from your teeth and catch it in your palm.

“Well, well…looks like you’re on a date with a prize-winnin’ apple picker. Feeling lucky yet?” you tort, attempting to flirt through the uncomfortable press of the damp fabric on your skin. 

“Sweetheart, I’ve seen that mouth in action, I already knew you were going to win,” he says, “but you know I’d never thought I’d see the day…” he trails off. 

“What do you mean?” you ask, slightly confused. 

“Never thought I’d see the day that I was jealous of a fuckin’ Red Delicious apple,” he says, humor behind his voice, “s’ashame I wasn’t the one you were bobbin’ for in that barrel.” 

“Listen, if you want to get wet and let me put you in my mouth, I am more than happy to accommodate,” you reply back, your voice flirty and suggestive. 

Joel doesn’t respond, but you see him palm himself through the denim of his jeans at your suggestion, interjecting his thoughts. 

You can’t hide the shivers that take over your body from the chill of the night air and the wetness of your clothing. 

“C’mere, baby, you’re freezin’,” he says, brow furrowed, and arms wide open stretched out to you, beckoning you into his large arms. You take a step forward and step into his brace, letting yourself melt into the warmth of his arms and the aroma of his natural scent. 

You stand there, wet in more ways than one, and let him hold you. Your arms wrap around his thick middle, and he rubs up and down your back with both palms in an attempt to warm you up. He releases you momentarily before saying, “Here, take this.”

You step away from him for a second, giving him space to slip off the flannel he’s wearing, revealing nothing but a white t-shirt underneath; the little tufts of hair peeking out through the collar of his shirt almost send you into a tailspin. 

He holds the flannel open by the collar to face you, encouraging you to put it on. You turn your back to him, allowing him the privilege of holding  it as you slip your arms into the sleeves. The fabric of the shirt is warm from his skin, and the moment you put it on you’re flooded with the smell embedded deep within the fibers; all musk, whiskey, cinnamon, wood, and Joel. 

“Come on, now, you little bobbin’ minx,  let’s go get you your prize,” he says, tilting his head to the prize booth. You grab his hand and let him lead the way this time. 

You and Joel make your way to the prize booth, the smell of kettle corn invades your senses; sure, you were already stuffed with funnel cake and your dinner, but the sweet aroma makes your mouth water. Or maybe it’s just Joel, you’re not quite sure, but you don’t really care. 

In the small structure of the prize booth, the shelves were adorned with a colorful array of stuffed animals of all sizes, trinkets, and games. You carefully assess your prize options while the attendant tries to convince you that of all of the random assortment of prizes, you absolutely need the goldfish. Right. 

You look over the options in front of you for what feels like a good ten minutes before the attendant not so subtly grows tired of your indecision. You sigh. You decide on a small puppy dog with beady plastic brown eyes, and you nod in thanks as he hands it to you, and you and Joel walk away from the booth. 

“Had a tough time decidin’ there, didn’t ya, sweetheart?” Joel asks, not really questioning. 

“Well, to be honest, none of the prizes were really appealing to me,” you respond, playing with the fluffy ears of the stuffed plush in your hands. “I only picked this one because I thought Sarah might like it,” you say. Your consideration for Sarah, and your accepting demeanor to her, warms Joel’s heart. 

“But I can think of one I’d really like to claim,” you say, catching his gaze. You see his jaw clench at your words. 

“Oh yeah? And that would be..?” 

“You,” the word comes out breathy. 

You both stop walking and the crunch of the dirt under his boots and the distant sounds of the fair in the background all but freeze as you stand there, seemingly paused in your own little private moment. 

“Take me home, Joel,” you say, planting your palm on his broad chest and stepping closer to him, your chest nearly flush against his. His hands skate down to your waist, and he closes the gap between your bodies, holding you close enough that you feel the growing bulge between his thighs. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, leaning down, planting a kiss on the top of your head. 

And it’s sweet. 

Just like the funnel cake. 

And just like he thinks you are. 

But you have other plans for him tonight. 

And he has the same for you. 

+++ 

You and Joel make your way out of the fairgrounds and to the lot where Joel parked his truck. 

Still wearing his flannel, the stuffed puppy dog intertwined between your crossed arms, you wait for him to open the passenger side door. You all but eye fuck him as he reaches into the depth of the  front pocket of his jeans and grabs his keys. He unlocks the door, and opens it for you; offering you a hand to help guide you in. 

“Always such a gentleman,” you say, placing your hand in his, accepting his offer, using the strength of his arm to help lift yourself into the bed of the truck. 

Joel rounds around the front of the vehicle, unlocks the driver’s side door, and slides in. He turns the key in the ignition and the engine rumbles to life and the radio turns on, “Come a Little Closer” by Dierks Bentley plays over the speakers. 

Deciding to take a note from the lyrics, you don’t bother to buckle yourself into the passenger seat, and instead slide over into the middle seat of the truck, positioning yourself tightly against Joel’s side. You lace your arm through the underside of his and interlock them, your hand curls around his firm bicep. You lean your head into his shoulder, and close your eyes, taking a moment to bask in the solitude of the strong man beneath you. 

He looks down at you for a moment – god, he could get used to this. He dwells on the thought for a moment longer and then begins to drive away. 

You’re clinging to him and you both ride like that in an easy silence, apart from the faint music and the hum of his truck. It has been so long since you felt so content, so at peace with the moment and yourself; not worried about work or life, or anything. It was just you and Joel, and you like it that way. 

Nearly back to your house, and your shared neighborhood, you let your left hand wander on the expanse of his thigh. The time for sweetness is over. The events of the night, your combined obvious want, and the flirtatious taunts catch up with you. 

Joel keeps his eyes on the road, but you don’t miss the way his grip on the steering wheel tightens as your hand makes its way closer to his belt buckle. You begin to toy with the cool metal there, and his large palm comes down to cup yours. 

“We’re almost home,” he says, holding your hand tight against his stiffening cock, not letting you move. “But I want to feel you now,” you whine. 

“I know, baby, I know you wanna get your hands on this cock, and I would like nothing more,” he says, “but you’re gonna have to be patient, we only have a few more minutes until we’re there.” 

“And why do I have to be patient, neighbor?” you ask, pulling your hand away, slightly keyed up. Greedy. Horny. 

“Because I wanna give that needy little pussy the attention she deserves,” he says, “and because once I get started, I know ‘m not gonna be able to stop.”

“And neighbor ain’t gonna be what you’ll be calling me,” he says roughly, “I’ll fuckin’ make sure of that, sweetheart.”

He takes a turn and pulls into your neighborhood. You catch a glimpse of Mrs. Morrison taking out her trash. She glares at you in disapproval as you drive past in Joel’s truck. 

You sometimes wonder what your neighbors might think; a pretty little young thing like you, the youngest daughter, hanging out with the older, single-father neighbor across the way. 

But truthfully, you don’t really give a fuck. 

+++ 

Joel pulls up into your driveway, the engine purrs softly before falling silent.  You both pause in silence. 

Joel turns to you, a smirk on his lips “We’re here,” he says, his voice carrying a hint of invite me in behind his voice. 

You glance out the window, your house bathed in the soft glow of your porch light. You turn back to Joel and say “Thank you for tonight, I really had a fun time. But to be honest, I just realized I never got to thank you properly…” 

Joel looks at you and something dark flickers in his gaze. “And what would you need to be thankin’ me for, sweetheart?”  As if he didn’t know. 

“For the best orgasm I’ve ever had. Come in and I’ll return the favor” conjuring your sultriest voice, knowing he doesn’t need an invitation.  

You step out of the truck, and the night air is cool, a  gentle breeze whispers through your hair;  your features are illuminated by the street lights in your neighborhood, and the warm glow casts an inviting aura around you. Joel appears at your side of the truck and helps you exit. 

The gravel under your feet crunches as you walk toward the front porch; the air is charged with electricity, a livewire, a magnetic pull drawing your bodies together. 

The porch light by your door casts a warm yellow glow on your faces. You pause at the front of the step and reach for your house keys in your purse. Your porch swing sways gently in the breeze, its rhythmic creaking adding to the undertone of the moment. 

You insert the key into the lock, but before you can fully turn the doorknob to open the door, Joel already has his large palm on yours, opening the door,  pushing you through the door frame and into your house, his hands cradling your face before he crashes his plush lips into yours. 

The second you’re both fully in your house, Joel's hands are on the hem of your shirt,  silently begging for you to take it off. You let him work on getting you topless, meanwhile, your hands are hastily working to undo his belt buckle, the excitement of finally being able to touch him and him not being able to stop touching you has you worked up.  Joel presses his thighs together against yours, drawing little moans from you while he nips at your neck. 

As much as he is trying to distract you, he’s no match for your determination. In record-breaking time you have his buckle undone and the zipper of his jeans is down; you gracefully fall to your knees before him, tugging his pants and his boxers down with you to the floor. Joel’s cock releases from the confines of his clothing and slaps against his tummy, leaving a little trail of pre-cum in its wake. You already knew he was big, but having him in full view makes you realize just how big he really is. 

You lick your lips and reach out to grab his thick cock, affectionately kissing the tip of his cock; you run your tongue through the slit, lapping up the salty pre-cum that drops out before you circle your tongue along the underside of his head. You let your jaw go slack, and you begin to dip down on his length; a gurgling sound escapes your lips as you pull back up again. You do this a few times before letting his hard cock fall from your lips, your lips puffy and coated in saliva, some of it dribbling past your chin. 

You pull off momentarily and smile up at Joel. He thinks you look far too sweet and innocent for someone who is absolutely taking his cock deep in your throat like a champ. He intertwines his fingers through your hair and groans, before gently urging you back down onto his cock. 

“Fuck, sweetheart – can’t tell you how long I’ve been thinking about having that pretty little mouth of yours on my cock,” he says slightly breathless. 

The thought of him thinking about you goes straight to your core and makes you want to mouth fuck him harder. 

You wrap your lips around him again, and he thrusts his hips to glide his cock inside of your mouth to the back of your throat. 

He begins to pick up his pace, holding your head steady by your hair as he fucks into your throat, pressing deeper and deeper until spit pools at the corners of your mouth and slight tears form in the corners of your eyes. He presses you down onto him until your lips are wrapped around the base of him and the coarse hairs that reside there. You’re drowning in the taste of him, hardly able to breathe, but you don’t care; you want him to chase his high, to use your mouth for his own pleasure. He made you come harder than anyone ever has before; this was the least you could do for him. 

“Jesus – look at you, pretty girl, fuck you feel so good wrapped around me,” he grits out, “takin’ it so well, baby.”

His words go straight to your cunt, the ache now insufferable. 

You begin to work him harder with your tongue, struggling for air, and he inches closer to the back of your throat and you begin to gag. Joel pulls out, not wanting to hurt you, and a strand of saliva trails between your lips and his cock. You blink back tears and look up at him, your mascara now a mess on your face, and your eyes glossy. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks, his brow furrowed in concern. 

You swallow, and reach up to wipe a tear from your cheek. You are okay. More than okay. 

“Peachy. I'm relieved I finally got to return the favor,” you hum, standing to rise to meet his face. 

He wraps his hands around your waist, and pulls you tight against the front of his body; you feel the warmth of his tummy, the hardness of his cock, and the strength of his back behind your grip and it makes your legs turn to Jell-O. Fuck, you need him. 

Joel kisses you for a moment, before pulling away and bringing his lips to your ear “Gonna fuck you now, sweet girl.” 

You feel your stomach swoop and your folds tingle; you have thought about this moment for so long and you yearn for the stretch of him; to know what it’s like to be filled to the brim with Joel fucking Miller. 

He kicks off his boots, steps out of the clothing bunched around his ankles, and takes your hand to follow you down the hallway into your bedroom. 

Part of him wants to take his time; to make you feel good, to taste you again, and feel you come and come on his fingers. Part of him wants to shuck down your jeans and put your pretty pussy in his face. 

Joel doesn’t particularly think of himself as a selfish man, but he has waited patiently, and he needs you. Now. 

As much as he wants the taste of you on his lips, the part of him that wants to shove himself into your addictive cunt until you forget your name until you forget every other name except for his, is the dominant one right now. 

Once in the bedroom, he crowds you back until the back of your calves meet the edge of your mattress. He grabs both of your hips in a bruising grip and pulls you tight against his chest, his hips grinding into yours, and you lean your face up to kiss him. You think he might kiss you, but instead, he ghosts your lips and leans forward until your back meets the soft fabric of the mattress with an oof, and he’s on top of you. 

He grabs both of your wrists, pinning them above your head. His grip on you is firm, yet gentle. You’ve seen his brute strength in action and the fact that he could overpower you sends a shiver to your clit. 

“So beautiful, darlin’ – you know that?” he kisses your nose and trails a slew of them down your cheek, your jaw, your chin, and neck. Once at the nape of your neck, he nibbles on your earlobe and whispers “You ready for me, sweetheart?” his breath is heavy in your ear. 

You can’t nod fast enough in agreement. 

“You gonna be a good girl for me?” he practically purrs the question. 

You want nothing more than to be a good girl for Joel. You nod almost aggressively to make up for the fact that you’re unable to construct a single sentence right now. 

He lets out a satisfied moan and drops his grip on your wrists, and drags his heavy hands down your body to the center of your jeans and undoes the button of your pants, and hooks his thumbs in the waistband of both your jeans and your panties and pulls them down in one fell swoop. 

He dips down to place a delicate kiss to your tummy and lets the weight of his head rest on the softness of you. He inhales deeply, the aroma of your perfume comforts him, and he fights the urge to dip his face lower and bury himself in your pussy. 

You drop both of your hands and grab his head, your fingers carding through his hair, and he groans. 

“Thought you were gonna be a good girl for me,” he says, not really questioning. 

“I am being a good girl,” you respond back, not really sure what prompted his statement. 

“Maybe I wasn’t clear enough the first time. When I put you in a position, I want you to stay there, until I say you can move. Got it?” 

And holy fuck, bossy Joel turns you on. 

You only hum in response. 

“Need you to use your words, sweet girl. Answer me, or I’ll make you,” he says, voice low, his head closer to your center now, almost to exactly where you need him but not quite. 

“Ye - ah, yes, fuck I understand,” sending all of your energy to string the words together. 

He hums in acknowledgment and pushes your hands back up overhead, telling you to keep them there, and only to touch him when he says you can. When he releases your hands and sees that your arms stay put, he rasps out a “good girl”. 

He then reaches down and notches his tip at your entrance, and drags the weight of his thick cock through your glistening folds.

“Mmmm so fuckin’ wet, this all for me?” 

“All for you, J-oel,” you’re trembling, desperate to feel him deep inside you. 

He pauses momentarily, only the tip of him inside you, and god, it’s such a tease. 

You know it’ll sting, but you want him to just fucking bury every inch of himself inside of you. You don’t care about the pain; you crave the stretch of him. 

“Joel – ah, need more,” you moan, “need all of you.” 

“You sure, sweetheart? I ‘don wanna hurt you,” he says, once again concerned about you. 

“Joel, I want you to fucking wreck me. Need you to move, please.” 

After your plea, he obliges. You feel every inch of him, the way he throbs inside of you, and the tip of his head drags against the spongey spot inside of you. 

Your eyes flutter shut as he begins to move in and out of you, he feels so fucking good, and you’re so perfectly full. 

“Open your eyes, sweetheart,” he says, voice low and gruff, still continuing to saw in and out of you. ‘’Want you to look at me while I fuck you.” 

And his words are like music to your fucking ears. He’s the perfect balance of gentleman and fucking filth. 

He brings a hand down to circle your clit, and with the added sensation you’re not far off from your orgasm. You can feel it growing in your stomach with every circle of his thumb and every thrust of his cock. You open your mouth, your jaw slack, and you begin to moan. 

“Fuck, baby – you shouldn’t open your mouth like that,” he moans. 

“And – fuckkkk, why not?” You respond back, breathless from each of his thrusts. 

“Just a reminder of another hole I need to use,” he responds, and then gruffly says “Open,” while pressing his thumb and index finger into your jaw, holding you in place. 

You do as he says, and he spits into your mouth. Your eyes wide as saucers. It was hot, dirty, filthy. 

“Taste how perfect we are together, baby” he says, still pounding into you and circling your clit. 

His words send you into fucking oblivion, and you’re gone. Your vision goes white, and despite his order to keep your eyes open, your eyes fall closed and he fucks you through your orgasm. 

Your tight, slick walls pulse and squeeze around him. His hands squeeze your hips, his fingertips bruising your skin as he rocks your limp and shaky body against his cock, chasing his own orgasm. 

Not long after you’ve come, he’s finishing too. He fucks into you at an erratic pace and then shoots his seed deep into your cunt. 

“Fuckkk, baby” – he trails off, letting the final spurts of his cum paint your walls. 

You let out a sigh, and once again drop your hands to his head, intertwining your hands with the hair behind his head. 

You both lay there in your fucked out bliss and then he pulls out of you, taking a dribble of his cum with him, a glob of it landing on your thigh. 

You’ve never felt so satisfied, to be laying there, content and full of Joel Miller. 

He rolls over onto his side and puts his hand on his chest. 

“Fuck, baby. You’re perfect,” he says. “I don’t think I’m ever gonna get enough of you.” 

You hum in delight and roll over onto his chest, melting into him. 

“You in the mood for some cookies?” you ask, and he beams in delight. 

He hit the fucking lottery with you. 

THE END

[silvervioletvalentine]

•The trouble with love•

Pairing : Sidney Crosby x Cherrie!

Word count : 11k

Summary : in which she’s trouble and he really should have known better than to fall in love with his best friends little sister.

Warnings: a Lil angst in the beginning. Nothing too bad. Mentions of using drugs , cherries a party girl who likes to self destruct instead of facing her own feelings. Age gap. If that’s not your thing then simply don’t read! She’s 22/23 though. So legal and nothing wrong about it at all. (My daddy issues coming through big time in this me thinks lmfao). Also, when I write these. I only see them as face claims. I’m not writing their personalities because I don’t know them in real life nor do I want to. So don’t be a numbskull. It’s called fanfic for a reason. I write this shit in my own time for free, for my own entertainment to escape my shitty little life for a while. Writing is supposed to be fun, just like reading it is. Not perfect . So be kind or fuck off! Enjoy xoxo

Sidney knew that she was home as soon as he opened the door to her brothers place and smelt the same vanilla and coconut scented perfume that she had been wearing for as long as he had known her.

A small smile twitching at his lips as he took in the sight of her perfectly pristine , dark red , satin heels at the door. Some designer that he recognised vaguely , alongside her Chanel bag hung up on the rack and her usual leather jacket.

He hung his own jacket up beside hers , then dug his hand into his jeans pockets to pull out a small pack of travel sized haribo bears that he knew she loved , he quickly made work of sliding the small packet into her Chanel bag.

Stealing a quick nosy look inside while he was at it, his eyebrow arching at the sight of her fancy perfume , a row of condoms , cigarettes that definitely weren't just nicotine , some lipstick and then...a amethyst crystal at the bottom of the bag.

He slowly shook his head in amusement to himself as he carefully closed it, running a hand through his hair and smoothing out any wrinkles in his shirt before taking a deep breath, preparing himself to deal with her usual attitude and snarky remarks .

It had been almost three months since he had last seen Cherrie and he had honeslty missed her sarcasm and her bitchiness. Somebody to bicker with that didn't give a single shit as to who he was. She laid into him hard , often leaving his ego and pride in pieces for her own entertainment. No matter how many times her brother told her to leave him alone and play nice , she flat out refused.

Because as long as Sidney had known Jacob , her brother , his little sister had never really been very fond of him at all. He don't really know what he had done at first , wondering if perhaps his disgust towards her favourite boy bands when she was eighteen had pissed her off so badly that she felt the need to form a lifelong vendetta against him.

He genuinely didn't know . He had asked her brother about it once , wondering if he knew why his sister hated him so much and his answer has been simple ,

a Casual shrug with a apathetic  "she's like that. A bitch sometimes but she's a good person ...just not a great one." And that was that.

And despite being older than her and knowing better. Sidney couldn't help but snap back at her all the time she gave him her little attitude , couldn't help but bite and give into her goading , bickering with her until she finally got bored and wandered off somewhere. Leaving him with a scowl and fidgeting on his seat , wondering how she could get underneath his skin so easily . Wondering why he couldn't seem to control his mouth or his emotional urges whenever she was around .

He didn't get it, don't want to really. Because Cherrie was annoying , mouthy and had a huge stick shoved up her ass as far as he was concerned . She lived to torment other people , got entertainment when people tripped over , laughed when somebody cried and was all around a little asshole to be around.

So really, he should want absolutely nothing to do with her. And the only reason that he should tolerate her was because he was such good friends with her brother. He should just give a polite hello and leave her alone because she was nothing to him, just his friends annoying little sister . That was all.

At least, that was what it should have been. But this was Cherrie. Stubborn , mouth and insanely beautiful Cherrie that seemed to be heading down a path towards destruction for a while now.

And she got him, because of course she did. She was an little asshole like that.

So despite knowing how wrong it was and how much he shouldn't get involved and how he should just leave trouble alone. He still found himself thinking of her whenever she wasn't around.

He found himself double checking her socials to see what she was up to or who the new boyfriend of the month was (which then he got into a terrible loop of checking out these boyfriends and being horrified by her type: which was assholes. Class A ones that were older and quite frankly not worth a second glance). And then because he couldn't help himself , and knowing how much she didn't want her older brother to know what she was doing , having blocked him on everything and hardly ever staying in contact while she was out of town.

Sidney would snitch on her . Plain and simple. He would snapshot the photo of her with some rich, thirty year old asshole that she definitely shouldn't   have been hanging around (especially when criminally convicted wives : yes multiple: we're still involved.) and simply because he couldn't stand the rush of anger and the ugly feelings that would stir within him whenever he saw her with some asshole that want worth her time , but he knew that he couldn't say anything. Couldn't tell her who not to date , he definitely couldn't tell her why he didn't want her to be anywhere near them.

But her brother could. So Sidney told him and then sat back and watched as she got scolded like a little child , all the while she glared at him hatefully knowing fully well that he was the reason her brother knew all of her business .

Then she would turn to him and lay into him too, running off her dirty mouth and cursing him out until her brother had to literally eject her from the room.

And then Sidney would feel a little bit whole again because when she was screaming at him, when she was bickering with him and giving him her attitude, it meant that she was home. She wasn't running around god knows where with god knows who while getting into trouble .

It meant that she was there, with him, giving him her attention again. Even if it was negative and mean, Sidney just liked her being there. Liked seeing her safe and in the flesh, liked seeing the flush to her cheeks each time she got mad at him. Liked seeing her squirm and lie when she was asked what she had been up to lately. Liked seeing the way she swore to hate him but still followed him around, just to annoy him.

And Sidney knew that it was wrong, he really did. He should leave her alone and he definitely shouldn't have been getting involved.

She was trouble . Big trouble. She was younger , mouthy and a mean, little bitch when she wanted to be. And she was also his best friends little sister. That should have been enough to turn him in the opposite direction running.

But either he was insanely stupid or he was ...insanely stupid. Because he kept coming back and hoping that she would be there too. He kept provoking her , kept getting involved and stirring the pot . And he knew exactly why he was doing it, had known for a while now but he refused to acknowledge his feelings, refused to admit what was really going on. Rationalising it as just wanting to mess with his best friends little sister, annoy her a little. Because he could and that was okay.

She wasn't eighteen anymore, she was twenty two and she was giving him just as much hell as she did back then. If not more. Because somehow she had gotten even more arrogant over the years , something he hadn't thought was possible. He was surprised that her head even fit through the door, she was the little princess who always got what she wanted now. Even if she got it in the most unconventional of ways.

Sidney sighed, ran his fingers through his hair again before finally entering the front room. Spotting said princess already on the couch in matching shorts and top, blanket around her legs as she watched Harry Potter on the big tv . Her brother was cooking dinner in the kitchen , giving Sid a grin and nod as soon as he saw him.

"Hey Sid! You hungry? I'm making pasta." He said ever the friendly guy.

Sidney chuckled as he kicked off his shoes, nodding his head . "Yeah. Sounds good." He said.

Cherrie scoffed frown the couch, not even glancing up from her phone as she muttered moodily  "sounds boring. He should look up salt and pepper seeing as his spice rack is just that..a rack. Empty and bland . Prepare to choke Crosby."

Her brother didn't even blink , simply slamming the kitchen door shut so he couldn't even see or hear them anymore. Not wanting to deal with her today.

Sidney chuckled as he took a seat beside her "in a lovely mood as usual I see." He commented amusedly , taking in her perfectly curled hair and shiny skin. Even when she was cozying up on the couch, she looked like she just come out of some press shoots. A pampered princess indeed.

Cherrie glanced up from her phone so he could see her roll her eyes at him, pulling a unimpressed face in return.

"What's the point of having your own home if you're never there?" She snarked.

He rose a brow at her then, watching her go back to texting. His curiosity peaked as he wondered just who she was talking to.

"You wouldn't know what thats like though would you? How's living at mommy and daddy's going for you?" He smirked back at her, tongue in cheek to stop himself from laughing when she immediately took the bait.

Scoffing as she threw her phone aside to glare at him, kicking his thigh to get him away from her. She huffed "fuck you. Eat dick asshole." She spat at him.

He snorted "now that you know all about. What happened to the last boy toy? Kill him with your hair rollers?" He teased her , pulling at the gold ankle bracelet on her leg.

The same one that he had gotten her for Christmas . It had stars and penguins on it , a small C charm too. For Cherrie. He had said. Lying to himself because he knew exactly what the C stood for. His chest filled with warmth every time he saw her wearing it.

She was picky with her jewellery , refusing to wear anything that wasn't real gold or diamonds . So to see her wearing the anklet he got filled him with some unfamiliar emotion, because she had deliberately put it on. Did she even take it off? Did she wear it whe he wasn't around? Or did she just wear it when she knew he was coming? His mind ran with a million thoughts, all of which he knew he shouldn't be having.

Cherries eye twitched as she sat up, swiftly kicking his hand off her ankle. She knelt up on her knees and leaned forward on the couch , hands outstretched her in front of her.

"No but I'm going to kill you Crosby!" She threatened him , jumping at him. As though she was going to strange him.

As soon as her small hands wrapped around his neck, Sidney was laughing . Head thrown back as she squeezed his throat with hardly any pressure at all, glaring down at him as he giggled.

Then she let out a sharp gasp as he wrapped his arms around her waist and turned her over quickly so that her back was to his chest , her body sliding down as she wiggled and tried to push him off. But he was too quick for her .

"Ooo so scary princess!" He mocked her as he got her into a loose headlock, ruffling her perfect hair with his fist. Laughing as a she screeched and cursed him out , slapping at him with a scowl on her pretty face . Looking murderous but still so beautiful  .

"Fuck you!" She yelled as she tried To get him off, slapping at his thigh, hard. He barely even flinched.

He Just snickered as he hugged his arms around the front of her shoulders, jokingly hugging her as he swayed them from side to side on the couch.

"No thanks. I know where you've been." He snarked. Gasping a laugh when she laid a hard punch to his side, forcing him to let go or be winded.

She rolled out of his lap with a glare , huffing and puffing as she tried to fix her messed up hair .

"Jealous that I'm getting laid? Not a good look on you babe." She tossed back at him. Crossing her arms over her chest, stood in front of him now. Looking down her nose at him.

He just leaned back into the couch lazily, smirking up at her as he got comfortable . Looking up at her in amusement , enjoying how quick to bite she was. She was the only person he could bicker with like this and know that he would 100% be getting that shit back at him. She was nasty.

"I'm babe now am I? Should I call you sweaty? Honey pie?" He teased her. Chest glowing with pride as he watched her face flush as she realised her little slip up .

Immediately rolling her eyes as she looked away from him stubbornly even though his eyes never left her.

"Call me that and they'll have to roll you out on the ice asshole." She warned him dangerously . Stomping around the couch to get away from him.

He tilted his head to watch her leave "it's been a pleasure as always princess!" He called out to her in amusement. Finally feeling relaxed how that she was back where he could see her.

He heard her groan as she stomped down the hallway to her room "eat shit Sidney!" She yelled back at him before he heard her door slam shut.

He grinned just as her brother came out of the kitchen, shaking his head at him with a scornful look on his face as he handed him a bowl of pasta.

"I don't know why you bother syd. She's been extra bitchy since she broke things off with tony." He told him with a sigh as he sat down.

Sidney stopped grinning then, looking at her brother with a slight frown on his face as he nudged his pasta with his fork.

"That was his name?" He muttered unimpressed "the guy looked like a sleaze? He has two gold teeth Jacob.." he pointed out with a look of disgust "two! And two ex wives. And two criminal records . What was she even thinking?" He snapped . Shaking his head.

Jacob rose a brow at his quick mood change , just taking it as him being protective . Like he would be. Completely oblivious to his friends feelings for his little sister . But maybe that was for the best, Sidney would like to keep his kneecaps thank you.

"Are you forgetting what a sleaze my sister is as well Sid? She doesn't care. She'll get with anybody that shows her even the slightest bit of attention." He muttered barely even paying him attention. Gaze on the tv.

Sidney frowned at him "don't say that. She's still your sister man." He scolded him lightly . Stomach turning because he wasn't untrue .

Jacob just chuckled and rolled his eyes "I know she is but it's still true. She's a party animal. I keep trying to tell her to stop and slow down but she won't have it." He said.

He took a bite of his food and sighed "this is your dads fault." He mumbled grumpily after taking another bite , frowning even deeper. "He was a whore who didn't give her any attention. And now she's got daddy issues."

Jacob looked at him defensively, shocked. "dude that's my dad! It's not all his fault. He doesn't make her go out and make bad life choices!" He defended. Daddy's boy.

Sidney rose a brow at him , scoffing a little. Feeling his blood pressure rise just at the thought of her father, he had seen the way the man talked down to her as though she was some silly child that was too stupid to understand anything. Demeaning her feelings and refusing to give her any attention , because in his eyes she was a mistake. She wasn't a boy and she wasn't doing anything good with  her life.

Jacob was a successful businessmen with multiple yacht company's around the world. Cherrie dropped out of collage and partied every night and didn't turn up last Christmas. It was safe to say that there relationship was a little more than strained .

"He ignores her unless money is involved. The only time I've ever heard him even acknowledge her was when she was dating that businessmen that he liked." He reminded him firmly , because he hated the man.

"And what did he do when they broke up?" He looked at her brother pointedly , Jacob just sighing loudly in defeat .

"He called her a waste of space and told her that she needed to clean her act up or that she would be servicing men for a living. I mean-" his grip tightened around his fork in anger "what kind of father says that to his sweet daughter who's just trying to navigate the world and doing her best?" He spat before he could even stop himself. Forgetting for a moment just who he was taking to.

Jacob looked at him with wide eyes, blinking In shock. Not realising that his friend felt so strongly about this.

In fact , he had no idea that he even cared at all . "Sweet?" Was all he could repeat , surprised . "My little sister? The one who just tried to strangle you and told you to eat shit? That's the sweet little sister that you're talking about?" He laughed.

Sidney just rolled his eyes and shoved another forkful of food into his mouth so he didn't have to speak. His cheeks flushing from his little slip up that thankfully Jacob didn't think much of , easily getting distracted by the tv again. Leaving Sidney to wallow with his own thoughts, eyes straying to her bedroom door more than enough times.

It was on Friday that Sidney found out that Cherrie had been kicked out of her home . But it didn't stop the air from leaving his lungs as soon as he was told about it, looking at her brother with wides eyes as he entered Sid’s apartment , looking stressed.

"What do you mean they kicked her out?" He voiced incredulously . Mind running with worry as he pictured her slumming it with one of her asshole boyfriends somewhere .

What if she left town and never came back? Sidney felt the panic slowly creep beneath his skin as he wondered what the hell her plan was. Worse, he knew Cherrie , her plan would be terrible , dangerous and maybe illegal.

He groaned.

Jacob sighed , looking annoyed. "They found drugs in her room. So she's out." He simply summed up for him.

Sidney paused by the couch, hands on his hips to stop himself from pacing. He rose a brow at her brother curiously "like..how hard are we talking?" He asked, tilting his head .

Jacob winced "enough to make a horse do the moonwalk." He told him with pursed lips. Not happy at all.

Sidney’s eyes widened "no shit." He muttered with a frown, not happy either. "I thought she only smoked weed?" He was confused.

She had a bad trip a year ago on acid while partying and had refused to do hard drugs after that , she had sworn it to him when he had picked her up from the stupid party and hauled her high ass Back home while lecturing her the whole way. He had stopped for McDonalds for her twice on the way back while she sang a song about ponies to him.

It was a strange night.

Her brother laughed humourlessly "apparently she was dating a drug dealer and was looking after his stash. She's lucky that they didn't call the police ."

Sidney scoffed dryly "yeah . You're dad would just love to see her Locked up." He couldn't help but mutter. Because maybe if he hasn't neglected her, she wouldn't be running around with a drug dealer boyfriends all the time.

"Sidney.." her brother gave him a look.

He ignored it. Running a hand through his hair as he wondered out loud "where is she going to stay?she can't be out there with all her fancy stuff. What if she gets robbed or hurt-?"

Jacob cut him off "I think she's planning on staying at her boyfriends ." Seeing the disbelieving look on Sidney’s face, he quickly added. "A new one. Not the drug dealer." Like that would relax him.

Sidney just tensed up even further, eyes widening. "A new one? Already?" He couldn't believe it. She worked quick.

"And what is this one? A porn director? A 'musician'? Please tell me. Put my mind at ease."He sarcastically said.

Her brother hesitated , then answered him quietly "I think he's a pawnbroker-"

Sidney laughed loudly "oh that's great. Yeah- well she can kiss goodbye to all her designer things then. Don't be so stupid. She's not staying with him." He told him like he had any say in the matter.

Jacob gaped at him, shocked by how hard he was taking this . "What do you mean? Where else could she go? She's refusing to stay with me." He told him .

Sidney thought about it for a long moment then his face lit up. "Oh! She can stay in my apartment next door. That would be perfect right?" He gasped . Grinning at the thought of having her right next door to him, not having to worry about where she laid her head or if she was safe or not.

There was no safer place. Sidney had bought out the entire top floor of the apartment building for his own privacy and the only time that the apartment next door got used was when friends came to stay. So rarely. It was perfect but...

"Just maybe don't tell her that I own it." He told her brother sheepishly "otherwise she'll just tell me to go fuck myself again."

Jacob laughed and relaxed, easy agreeing . Just happy that his sister would have somewhere safe to live now.

True to his word Jacob didn't tell his sister about just who's apartment she would be staying in, leaving her to nearly lose her shit when she glanced up from her front door, where she was dragging In her large box of shoes , only to see Sidney coming out of the door next to hers.

She gasped "what the fuck? Are you stalking me?!" She immediately accused him. Standing straight again. Considering throwing one of her shoes at him for scaring her like that.

Her eyes narrowing when Sidney just chuckled, arms crossing over his chest as he looked her over , taking her in in her athletic shorts set. He smiled.

"I live here." He told her simply . Voice Curt and firm as he asked her next "and how is my favourite criminal?" Smirking at her slyly.

Her face dropped as she cursed "fucking snitch!" She cursed out her brother. Flushing red.

"he's lying!" She lied.

Sidney tilted his head at her in amusement "really? So you weren't hiding drugs for your drug dealer boyfriend then ?" He called out her bullshit.

She hesitated , then mumbled "ex boyfriend." Not denying it. "And it wasn't that big of a deal. I wasn't doing them just...holding onto them for him." She felt the need to let him know.

Sidney wasn't impressed. He took a step closer to her making her look up at him, lips parting a little as he got into her personal space.

"You could have gone to jail. It's a crime Cherrie . You know better than to do shit like that. Especially for some guy that doesn't even respect you." He muttered down to her unhappily.

Her heart was racing as she flattened her expression. Pursing her lips at him . Trying to act unaffected by him.

"He loved me." She weakly muttered.

Sidney chuckled a little meanly "he loved how easy you are." He snapped at her before he could stop himself .

And Cherrie scowled up at him, giving him a little angry shove as she spat "what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means it's Been only twenty four hours and you're already with someone new. Where do you even find these assholes?" He wanted to know. Was it asshole.com or something?

She scoffed and took a step away from him , reminding herself how to breathe normally. He shouldn't be affecting her like this.

And maybe she was easy because she was trying not to squirm in her damp panties as he sternly looked down his nose at her, his broad shoulders blocking her view as she glared up at him.

His eyes Stern and mouth set as he glared straight back at her. Not budging. and she hated how hot he looked then , hated how turned on she got whenever he got like this with her . Hated how much she liked it when he got bossy and when he got strict,  his mean comments and firm hand made her quiver in all the best ways .

She liked it when he tried to put her into her place , pointing out her fuck ups and calling her out on her bullshit. Nobody else did it like him.

She was a mess. "At least I can find someone. How's your love life Mr hockey? Find a way to fuck a puck yet?" She snarked at him. Defensive because he was right.

His eyes narrowed down at her dangerously , and he seemed even bigger then. She pressed her thighs together. Wincing.

"I'd rather be alone than tossed around and catching shit." He insulted.

She gasped sharply "I don't have anything! I get regularly rested." She snapped at him. Shoving him away from her but he barely even moved.

Instead he stood his ground and rolled his eyes at her , jaw clenching. "That's not the point. You need to be more careful Cherrie. These guys aren't nice. I don't wand anything to happen to you." He told her firmly .

She just scoffed , swallowing hard . "You would know all about the not so nice guys wouldn't you? Asshole." She huffed at him. Overwhelmed with what she felt then.

Sidney sighed and shook his head, finally backing up a step to let them both breathe again .

"I'm only trying to help." He muttered.

She turned away from him with a haughty sniff, leaning down to pick up her box of shoes. "Yeah well.. I don't need your help. I'm perfectly fine on my own Crosby!" She snapped at him kicking open her door.

He watched her stomp inside to put the box down before returning. Then they both stared at the heavy dresser that she had yet to bring inside .

Sidney hid his smirk behind his fist, clearing his throat instead.

"Want me to help bring it in?" He offered smugly .

She glared at him and shook her head "no." Then she tried to pick it up and failed miserably.

Sidney looked at her, Cherrie looked at everything but him. Then she sighed and mumbled quietly "please."

"Good girl." He mumbled smugly , as he walked over to help her bring it in.

Chuckling a little as he did so. Smirking at the way her cheeks flush red at his praise. "That wasn't so hard to say was it?" He mocked.

She gave him the middle finger. And as soon as she turned her back Sydney finally grinned to himself , relaxing now that she was there. Safe and okay. With him.

It didn't take long for them to settle into a routine . With Sidney staying out of her way and Cherrie going out of hers to make sure that he heard every little thing that she did in her apartment .

He had never realised just how popular she was until he was being kept up every night because of it , with their loud laughters and music all night. The creaking of her bed and the loud moans, the shouts and the drunken cries . The terrible singing and the rambles , the giggling girls and boorish guys who shouted like they were dying.

It had finally gotten to his nerves by week three , she barely spoke to him. Usually just giving him a Middle finger in passing . But he heard her alright .

And as he was staring down at the ridiculous pile of parcels that he had gathered while she was out, he finally had enough. Staying away wasn't working anyways . So he marched over there and let himself into her apartment without even knocking, he owned it . So he decided that it was perfectly fine for him to do so.

"Don't you know how to fucking knock jackass?!" She squealed at Him in shock as she jumped up off her couch. Staring at him with wide eyes.

Sidney just glanced around the apartment, teeth grinding as he took in the sight off all the mess of beer bottles and clothes strung everywhere, half of which he was certain weren't even hers. He glanced down at his foot and saw an empty condom rapper, and that was the last straw.

He snapped "you're a little witch! You've kept me up for weeks with your shit now! What the hell are you doing ? Don't you have any respect?!" He seethed. Pushing away the jealously and nasty feelings in his chest as he threw her parcels down onto the table angrily . Trying to calm down.

Cherrie paused , startled by his anger then she slowly walked over to him.

Scowling back "I haven't done anything wrong." She denied. Defensive.

Sidney let out a humourless laugh "I can hear everything Cherrie." Was all he has to stress for her to understand .

She went red and swallowed hard . Inhaling a little

Too sharply in shock as she let out a startled "oh." Realising just what he might have heard.

"Yeah. Oh." He scoffed shaking his head unkindly at her .

"No more of that shit do ya hear me?" He instructed her firmly . Not joking around this time. And she got it.

And for once in her life she listened. Nodding her head a little, not looking at him as she mumbled a embarrassed"okay." Shocking him into calming right down.

He frowned down at her, surprised by her lack of argument. "Okay? You're agreeing with me?" He couldn't believe it. That much was evident.

Cherrie rolled her eyes at him , annoyed. "Yes. Anything else daddy?" She tested him .

They both tensed for two different reasons. She leaned against the back of the couch to look at him, even more annoyed when she saw how his tight shirt was hugging his muscular biceps perfectly. She hated it.

Sidney inhaled deeply, crossed his arms even tighter against his chest as he tried to keep calm. Something incredibly difficult to do when it came down to miss trouble.

"What even is all this crap anyways?" He changed the subject before she could get him roped into her said trouble.

Looking down at all of the parcels he had been collecting for her, he rose a brow. "How much more do you need? Are they..even more shoes?" He sounded incredulous because he was.

He knew that she had turned the spare bedroom into a closet, and he knew that because he had spent an entire afternoon filling the walls with all of her ridiculously overpriced heels. She refused to let him leave until they were all perfectly lined in order of colour. Sidney had never seen so many heels in his life , he had been overwhelmed and needed a beer to get through it all. She was ridiculous.

Yet his heart still beat fondly for her as he watched her pull out a brand new pair of heart shaped heels, looking almost identical to a pair that he had seen her strut around in bedore.

Her grin was childish as she held up her leg in the air between them for him to see her new shoes, turning her ankle this way and that way proudly for him .

"Beautiful huh? I got them on sale!" She informed him excitedly . Hardly paying him any attention as she slipped on the other heel and started pretending that the living room was her runway , watching herself in the floor to ceiling length mirror as she did so. Flicking her hair over her shoulder confidently .

Sidney exhaled quietly , tucking his hands into his pockets . "Yeah..yeah." He agreed quietly , eyes glued to her smile . A genuine one. No sarcasm or meanness to it. It took his breath away.

So he quickly turned his back to her and changed his tone of voice again, needing to rid himself of this softness that overcome him then.

"Try not to be so annoying tonight alright? No more raging parties. Otherwise I will be calling your brother about it." He threatened her , striding to the door. Needing to leave before her sweet perfume , ridiculous heels and pretty smile made him do something that he really shouldn't do.

He heard her scoff, but he still don't turn around.

"Get fucked Sid." She called after him, laughter evident in her voice. Knowing that there was no way he would be snitching again. Not when he had her right next door to keep an eye on. Not when he could just go there and scold her himself.

Still, he rolled his eyes and quipped back "you're so obsessed with fucking me and me getting fucked lately princess . You sure it's not a you probekm?"

The sound of a heel being thrown against the door as he quickly shut it behind him , echoed alongside his laughter as he went home. Grinning the whole way.

How's my sister settling in? Jacob text him concerned. Not causing you any bother is she?

Sidney didn't hesitate , no bother at all. She's a good girl.

Sidney finally got to meet cherries new boyfriend that weekend , he was already standing by the elevator waiting for it to open up when he heard a familiar voice coming from around the corner, footsteps coming his way.

He tilted his head down to his feet. Straining his ears as he listened in, brows furrowing at the upset whine to her voice. One he recognised all too well.

"I don't see why you're complaining. There's nothing wrong with my dress." She was clearly not happy, sounding put out.

Sids frown deepened . Her dress? He wondered confused. What could possibly wrong with what she was wearing? She looked good in everything and every time sid saw her, she was dressed to the nines. She loved her clothes, loved her fashion. She was trendy and on top of her game, and most the time she looked like a supermodel. Even when she was just at home.

It was something that always amazed Sidney about her. How put together she was, even when she was acting out like a little shit. She always looked good while doing it. Always a new dress and perfect hair , Sidney had never known her to miss a single nail or hair appointment even when she was sick.

A deeper voice echoed back, sounding annoyed. And it instantly had his shoulders tensing.

"A dress?" The man scoffed "is that what you're calling it? I hope you don't bend over tonight then otherwise it's over for you." He said.

Sidney scolded darkly . She did like to wear short dresses. But so fucking what? If the jackass couldn't handle it then what the hell was he even doing around a girl like Cherrie? She was way to good for him. Way out of his league.

If she was mine, Sidney thought darkly . I wouldn't care what she wore because it was her body and her choice , and if any asshole had anything to say about it. He could fight. So She wouldn't have to worry with him.

"Well you definitely won't be bending me over with that attitude mark!" He heard her snap back, but Sidney knew her. And he could hear the subtle hurt tone to her voice and knew that his slut shaming comment has gotten to her. No matter how much she pretended it hadn't.

"I'm just saying!" The idiot continued on talking down to her. And Sidney felt his fist clenched by his side as he waited for the to round the corner, wanting to see this idiot with his own two eyes.

Because why the hell was she doing going out with a guy that clearly had no respect for her? What could he have that she could possibly want?

"And I had to wait over an hour for you to get your nails done again! I've never met a girl as high maintenance once as you before! Can't you calm down a little with it? Life doesn't always have to be diamonds and high heels babe!" He condescended.

Sidney scoffed. Then he straitened up to his full height as they finally came around the corner , Cherrie looking like a deer in headlights as she realised that he had heard every word. Not looking impressed at all.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he felt his eyebrow raise in shock as he looked at the jackass. Wondering what's he saw in him.

Then he did a double take.

Dark hair. Older. Broader . Taller . Looking like a knock off version of Sid, dressed in jeans and a button down shirt . Rolex on his wrist.

Sidney couldn't believe it. His eyes flickering over to Cherrie, only to see her uncharacteristically quiet , eyes staring down at her sparkly heels instead . Looking uncomfortable as she stood stiffly by her boyfriends side.

He looks like me. Sidney thought faintly , biting back a knowing smirk as he came to a realisation then. Looking at her a little longer , almost daring her to meet his eyes. But when she didn't, when she just stayed quiet. Sid sighed.

"I don't think being high maintenance is a bad think. Sounds like she just wants to be looked after." Sidney commented bluntly , looking at the man.

Mark looked straight back, eyed him up and down in distaste. "And who the hell are you?" He scoffed.

Cherrie was embarrassed , keeping to herself as they all stepped inside the elevator . Arms around her waist , shoulder brushing against Sids as he shuffled closer to her. Eyes never leaving the side of her face , anger making him clench his jaw at how upset this guy had made her with his stupid comments.

"He's my neighbour mark. This is Sidney." She muttered.

Mark laughed "ah. This is the guy you were complaining about? The one who's got a stick up his ass?" He repeated her words.

Her cheeks flushed red as Sidney a brow at her, lips twitching . Her eyes briefly rose to meet his own for a moment before quickly looking away and clearing her throat . Embarrassed.

"Yes." She mumbled.

Sidney snorted "you know, I prefer your complaints hand delivered to me. Not second hand." He told her, unimpressed by her shit talking him to this asshole.

Cherrie looked at him with a glare "shut up Sid." She snapped.

He laughed quietly but his smile quickly fell when mark muttered impatiently that they were going to be late because of her, already walking out of the Elevator as soon as it opened, not even waiting for her as he strode off to his car.

Sidney frowned, gently taking a hold of her arm before she could trail off after him. She looked up at him in surprise.

He cleared his throat a little , eyes staring into her own with concern. "Call me if you need a getaway car alright? I don't like him at all. You shouldn't be letting him talk to you like that. He's an asshole." He murmured to her , angrily.

Embarrassed that he had seen her in such a way, that he had seen her as anything other than her usual confident and self assured self. She yanked her arm away from him with a scowl.

"Leave me alone Crosby ! I don't need your help." She hissed at him bedore storming away. Leaving Sidney stood in the lobby of their building with his arms hanging by his side, watching her leave with yet another guy that wasn't good for her. Worry written across huf face , chest tightening as she left.

Fucking hell. He rubbed a hand over his face stressfully. He was so fucked.

It wasn't until the next night that she called him in a fit of tears. Having him be her getaway driver as he picked her up outside some fancy condo. Watching in shock as she wailed in the passenger seat, mascara running down her face. Still in last nights dress.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" He rushed out worriedly to her . hands hovering over her as he looked her over for any injuries . Finding none. Just tears falling from her eyes as she scowled furiously , Hand wiping at her tearful face angrily .

She sniffled loudly "it's over! He was a Right cunt Sid !" She declared to him while sobbing .

Sidney cautiously  glancing around before starting his car and getting them out of there, heart racing as he kept glancing her at her in concern, not knowing what the hell had happened. Hating that she was crying and hating that he didn't know how to solve it.

"What happened?" He asked her in one breath. Reaching his hand over to wipe at the tears falling down her cheeks, keeping one hand on the wheel as he drove them home.

Cherrie groaned. Leaning down to pull off her heels, sniffling and crying as she mumbled "I overheard him calling me a bitch and a slut to his friends so I..." she hesitated to tell him. Remembering then just who she was talking to.

She crossed her legs beneath her, reaching into the backseat to grab at Sidney’s hoodie he kept there. Not even asking him before she was pulling it over her body. Covering her dress. Inhaling his scent and calming down a little , scrunching up the sleeves in her hand as she turned her body towards him.

Wanting comfort and seeking it in him.

Sidney glanced over at her, then down at his hoodie that she had pulled on, before meeting her tearful gaze again.

He sighed, bracing himself for it. "Jesus. What have you done now?" He asked her concerned. Because he knew that look on her face, knew exactly what it meant.

It was mixture of guilt, fury and shame. Like she couldn't decide what to settle on but she knew that she had fucked up. Again.

"Well..I thought. Fine. I'll show him just how much of a bitchy slut I can be so I .." her voice quietness as she told him in embarrassment "I fucked his dad."

Sidney’s head snapped to her with wide eyes, mouth dropping open in disbelief.

"You did what?!" He almost shouted. Hoping that he heard her wrong.

He hadn't.

She grimaced. Sinking deeper into her seat in shame.

"I went over there and I knew-I knew that he was at least attracted to me . I mean who wouldn't be?l" she missed Sidney’s incredulous look as she started crying again.

Still a little drunk from all the wine she had been pitifully downing the whole night . "So I seduced his dad and then fucked him-which by the way-he fucked so much better than his stupid son did-"

Sidney made a strangled noise, teeth clenching as tightly as his fists did around the steering wheel. He did not want to hear this.

"Okay! That's enough! I don't want to hear it!" He snapped. "God! Why are you like this?" He felt the anger, jealously and frustration in him take over.

Shaking his head in disappointment at her , making her lip quiver as she watched him tearfully . "It's not you at all! Why do you keep doing this? All this sex, drugs and -"

"Rock n roll?" She chimed in weakly. Giggling drunkenly as she held up the rock on sign with her fingers. Only lowering them when Sidney just glared at her. Not impressed At all.

His look of disappointment just made her cry harder, curling into herself as she looked at him with a pout on her face. Chest feeling heavy, regretting all of it. Just wishing that she had stayed home. That she had just stopped doing this and just stuck to annoying Sidney instead . Maybe then she wouldn't be stuck feeling like this.

"You're not funny." Sidney let her know . Shaking his head. "Stop crying." He muttered as he turned into their building. Chest feeling tight at the sight of her tears.

He turned off the car and unbuckled himself . Leaning over the console to cup her face in his hands , gently brushing away the tears with his thumbs . Still glaring at her as he did so. Tense and upset.

She snuggled onto his hand with a sniffle "I'm sorry." She whined , looking up at him with big , glossy eyes.

"I'm going to stop all this. I'm gonna be better." She suddenly declared. Meaning it.

Sidney laughed. He had to. Smirking down at her incredulously . "Oh really?" He didn't believe it and she could tell.

Frowning up at him , upset  . Watching as he got out of the car. Jogging around to her side to open the door for her. Unbuckling her and helping her out, grabbing her heels from her hands. Steadying her.

"I mean it Sid." She continued trying to convince him. Letting him wrap his arm around her shoulder as he led them inside safely , leaning into his side with loud yawn. "I'm done being a wild child."

He laughed even harder then , the pressure slowly easing from his chest as he cuddled her into his side. Pressing his lips against the side of her head as they came out of the elevator , stopping by her door.

"Yeah." He chuckled ruffling her hair gently "I'll believe it when I see it." He muttered amusedly.

She just huffed tiredly. Then groaned when he suddenly spun her around and tugged her into him, wrapping his big arms around her back as he squeezed her to his chest firmly. Leaving her to stare wide eyed at his chest, gasping in surprise.

She slapped his stomach "what are you doing?!" She exclaimed, voice muffled against his shirt.

He just squeezed her harder, chuckling on top of her head as he closed his eyes. Savouring the cuddle.

"Hugging you.." he mumbled. Amused. "Don't tell me you don't hug either? Are you too cool to hug me?" He teased her.

Cherrie groaned. Cheeks heating up as she loosely wrapped her arms around his waist , hugging him back. "Shut up." She mumbled. Giggling a little. "You're so stupid."

He chuckled lowly "you are." He stated shaking his head as he slowly pulled away from the embrace . Sighing at the state of her.

He took her keys from her bag and opened the door, taking ahold of her hand gently instead as he led her inside the apartment.

"Come on trouble . Let's get this makeup off you and you can sleep off the hangover." He instructed her gently .

She followed him without a single complaint. Jumping up on the counter as he pulled out her makeup remover .

"Hey Sid?" She spoke up a few minutes later when he was wiping the streaked mascara from her cheeks.

"Yeah?" He looked up at her. Biting his cheek to stop himself from smiling as he saw the pouty look on her pretty face.

"You like my dress?" She wondered quietly.

He laughed lightly , affectionately. "I do. I like all your dresses." He replied. Then "that guy was a idiot and a liar. You're perfect as you are. Don't change." He told her quietly.

His eyes widening in surprise when she suddenly leaned forward and willingly hugged him on her own, squeezing him to her with a long sigh . Her soft smile pressed against the side of his cheek as he hugged her back without any hesitation.

Yeah. He sighed. He was so , so fucked.

Sidney couldn't believe it but things really did start changing for the better after that night.

Meaning that suddenly , she never left him alone. He had almost gasped in fright the first night that he returned home after practice to find her already on his couch, watching tv.

Having let herself in without any shame . She hadn't even looked at his astonished face , merely pointed to the kitchen. And told him that there was some leftover takeout in the fridge for him.

Getting over his shock had been hard but then he was watching a movie with her. Listening to her ramble onto him about all of her favourite scenes , smiling to himself when she told him where he could have seen the actors before. His heart pounding in his chest when she fell asleep with her head against his shoulder , his arm around hers . In disbelief to himself . She stayed the night.

And since then she hadn't really left.

She was there in the mornings, sharing his horrible healthy smoothies with him. She let him drag her along to the gym with him with the promise of getting her ice cream afterwords . Then they started hanging out , going shopping together , or just driving around .

Sidney accompanied her to the bank where she got him to sort out all of her Money problems for her, claiming that she needed an 'adultier adult.' Which she clearly was not.

Then she started coming to see his games. In the family box waiting for him, wearing his shirt with a wide smile on her face each night. Hugging him whether they won or lost and Sidney felt like he was on cloud nine. Yet too scared to break it, too scared to wake up from his dream. So he didn't say anything for a while , didn't question her sudden closeness. Just bathed in it instead.

He ignored his friends knowing looks, told her brother that he was just looking out for her as he cooked her a home made meal . Bought all of her favourite snacks and tried to bake cookies just because she was craving them.

And Sidney could only feel both overwhelmed and amused because he knew what was happening. He wasn't some dumb kid that wasn't aware of his own feelings or somebody else's .

He could see the way she looked at him now, saw the way she lingered and waited impatiently for his attention. The way she would look his way after each dumb joke she said, just to see if he would laugh. The way she went out of her way to prove to him that she wasn't going to be some dumb little shithead anymore that sent his blood pressure skyrocketing just for fun

She finally wanted him her like he had wanted her for so long and it felt so fucking food to know. Even though they hadn't said a thing.

Sidney knew what was happening. And he could only smile despite knowing how fucked he was. He has fallen for trouble and trouble was finally falling for him too.

Then he opened his door one night and could only sigh in disbelief as he saw Cherrie waiting for him, eyes trailing down to the fluffy fur ball in her Arms, a not so innocent smile on her pretty face She cheesed at him.

He just groaned "Jesus Christ Cherrie! I was only gone for a couple of hours!" He breathed out . Hesitantly reaching out his hand to stroke the kittens soft head, eyes never leaving cherries face. Arching his brow at her as he waited for excuse to come.

It didn't disapirnwmnt . She never did.

"I needed a friend! Isn't he pretty? It's a rag doll. I've called him zoomy." She told him proudly. Kissing it's little head repeatedly as it purred away in her arms, big blue eyes slowly blinking up at her. She awwed loudly .

Sidney just sighed, more than amused. Unable to be mad at her. I mean. It was Cherrie. This was absolutely something she would do. Silently move herself into his home and get them a cat while he was at practice .

"Why?" He dared to ask.

She grinned "cause look." She put the little kitten down. Both of them watching as the cat suddenly took off and started sprinting around the room chaotically , fast as fuck.

Sidney let out a mixture of a groan and laugh, rubbing his hands over his face with a disbelieving grin.

"You're unbeblivale ." He said. Fondly .

Then he looked at her and muttered "going home anytime soon?" Already knowing her answer . The little kitten scratching at his heels as it followed him into the kitchen. Sidney pulling out all the ingredients he would need to make her favourite food.

Cherrie threw herself down onto the couch with a giggle. "You kicking me out?" she called out to him. Grinning As she put in his favourite movie for them to watch.

He grinned down at the cutting board , cheeks flushed with happiness as he picked up zoomy and placed the kitten on his chest , kissing its little head .

Heart pounding in his chest as he dared another peak at her, safe and content with him. In his home.

"Would you even leave if I did?" He joked.

Silence.

Then a snort "i don't listen to liars Sid. You've always wanted me here. You're never getting rid of me now." She told him confidently . Seeing right through him. She always had.

Sidney just smiled.

Then her brother text him , my sister doing good?

Sidney hesitated . Then replied. Best she's ever been. And he's wasn't lying. He just failed to tell him that the reason why she was the best she had ever been was because she was with him.

Sidney finally spoke up about them playing house without telling each other how they really felt a month later.

After staring down at the boutique of flowers on the kitchen island that he had gotten her every Friday , signing off his and cherries name as his plus one to his teammates wedding . He came to the startling real stool then that this was really it for him.

They did everything together now. He had met her friends. She hung out with his. They had dinner together almost every night . She practically lived with him. Most of his wardrobe was filled with her pretty dresses and he could barely find his sneakers through the mountain of her heels.

Her makeup sat in his bathroom, her tooth brush next to his. Most nights they fell asleep on his bed while cuddling together, their favourite shows playing in the background.

They were a couple without being a couple and Sidney was getting too old to be playing these games and he knew that if he didn't bring the whole subject up first, then they would be doing this forever . Because Cherrie definitely would not say it first.

She was more of a 'always have the last word' Kinda girl instead.

So looking down at the little cat in his arms. He kissed it's tiny head for courage , sighing into its soft fur as he mumbled . "This is it zoomy. Jacob is going to kill me." Before putting him down carefully.

Then Sidney took a deep breath, gathered his courage and looked at her. She had been browsing gifts to get his friends for their wedding, head snapping over to him mid ramble when he said her name. Firmly .

Eyes widening at the serious look on his face, she blinked at him. "What?" She laughed a little, but the feeling in her gut told her that she knew exactly what was coming. Had been waiting for this moment really.

She slowly put down her phone and faced him, fidgeting with her rings as she sat on her stool. Heart pounding nervously in her chest. This was really it. She realised.

"What the hell are we doing Cherrie?" He breathed out . Slowly walking to her side , bending his head so that she would meet his eyes. Needing her to realise that he was serious this time. No time for playing around.

She laughed a little nervously  "what do you mean?" She tried to play dumb but it wasn't working.

Sidney just levelled her with a stern look, shaking his head at her. Tapping his fingers against the counter anxiously . "I'm getting too old for your games princess. What's going on?" He repeated a little more firmly this time. Watching her cool facade crumble just like that.

The sigh she let out was shaky as she swung her legs around to face him, wrapping her arms around his stomach as she pulled him in between her legs. Hugging him, Sidney only hesitated for a moment before loosely putting his hand on the back of her head as she rested her chest on his chest. Running his fingers gently through her hair to keep her calm, grounding her.

Her mumble was muffled ahinst his shirt "you've always taken care of me Crosby." She fiddled with the belt loop of his jeans as she said it.

He gently tugged at her ponytail to get her to look up at him, his face calm despite the rapid racing of his Heart . He knew that this was meant to be. Knew where this was heading and he wasn't scared anymore . He had been waiting for this moment for what felt like forever.

"I have." He agreed quietly "I've always wanted the best for you but you never seemed to go for that." He told her honestly .

Even when they were bickering and arguing , when she was giving him attitude and getting on his nerves . He had always made her his priority. Had always made sure that she was okay, that she was safe and getting everything that she needed and wanted. Simply because he was a sucker for her.

He always had been. That was the problem. Falling in love with his best friends little sister had never been the plan. But when did anything ever go as planned anyays?

And deep down, Cherrie knew it. She knew exactly what she was doing. Knew exactly what he was feeling and how he felt about her. It wasn't hard to see.

How he had spent years making excuses to be around her. Coming to every gathering, every party and event with them. Even though he liked to be low key and kind of hated the rest of jacobs friends. He still came , because he wanted to see her.

He always picked up the phone in the middle of the night , always ready to drive her home from her drunken escapedes . Always ready to be her getaway car. Helping her sneak back in the house , helping her sober up so her parents wouldn't realise what she had been doing . Even when they 'hated' each other. He was always on her side. Always.

She sighed in vague amusement , and fondness was written all across her pretty face as she gazed up at him. Chin resting on his chest as he looked down at her, throat bobbing as he swallowed hard . She rested her hand over his heart and felt how it raced beneath her skin, then she laughed lightly .

"I know that the apartment you gave me is yours Sid. And I know that you paid off my parking tickets and I know that you're the one that got that jackass , who badmouthed me at that restaurant, fired. And I know that everything good that's happened to me has always been because of you." She admitted to him affectionately.

Sidney was speechless. And a little mortified .

Face going red as he realised that he really hasn't been subtle af all. It was one of those times where he thanked the heavens that her brother was so fucking oblivious, otherwise he had a feeling that he would have had his ass handed to him a long time ago.

Was his love for her really that obvious? Who else knew?

She did.

And she was smirking up at him smugly , gently squeezing his waist to bring him back down to Earth.

"You know?" He weakly muttered. Taken aback. Having expected that he would need to lay out a whole love confession to her to get her to understand.

She nodded her head, giggling. "I know old man." She confirmed amused.

"Can't resist a pretty face huh Crosby ?" She teased him.

He gently cupped her face in his hands. Smile softening , face wary as he admitted to her quietly. "I can't. Not one as pretty as yours but Cherrie.." he hesitated for a moment. Not wanting to scare her away but needing her to know that this was it for him.

"This is serious for me alright?" He tells her softly , the colour on his face only deepening. Blushing like a school girl as he gazed down at her , so in love with trouble that it hurt .

"I want forever with you . I don't want to play games or have to worry about you not being mine. I want-" he stumbled over his words for a moment , overwhelmed by her then. Overwhelmed by all that he felt for her. He didn't know that it was possible to love somebody so much. "-I'm not getting any younger and you're still so young ..you have to be sure-"

She cut him off quickly , still smiling .

"I'm sure." Shes more serious than he's ever seen her. Looking up at him like he was her entire world and all the stars intertwined .

He breathed out shakily , hands trembling on her jaw as he pulled her closer . "Are you? Because I'll get it if you're not ready , you've never been serious about a guy in your life. I don't want to be boyfriend number thousand. I don't want to be someone that you regret." He whispered to her .

She shook her head at him, eyes glossy and heart so full for the man that had never let her down. Had never let her go. Realising that he had waited for her to be ready, had let her get all of her stupid mistakes and rebounds out of her system first .

He had let her be young and dumb, had let her live. But now she realised that happiness was what she wanted. And what was life without happiness?

Her happiness was staring down at her like she was his heart . Like she was the shoelaces to his shoes. The bones that protected his heart, like she was the one.

So She smiled "Your not going to be.. you're going to be the last boyfriend that I ever have Sidney Crosby . Because I love you. I have for a while and I'm sorry for being such a little shithead and making you wait around for me." She told him honestly . A little embarrassed but so fucking thankful that he had stuck around .

He laughed Wetly , struck with love for her. Shaking his head in vague amusement , his thumbs rubbing circles into her soft skin as he nudged their noses together gently .

"Don't be. I enjoy you being a shithead . It's what made me fall in love with you , you're trouble. And I love that. Are you sure that you're serious about this?" He needed to know. His future standing right in front of him. Bright eyes and a pretty smile .

It was always going to be her , wasn't it?

"I am." She promised him. Her cheek in his hand. Smiling up at him genuinely. "I want you Sidney." She told him. Meaning it with everything in her. She wanted everything that he could give her.

So he kissed her. Like he had dreamt of kissing her for the last couple of years. Caressing her mouth with his own, his hand cupping her jaw as she pulled him closer. Her fingers scratching lightly into his scalp as he sighed blissfully against her tongue , tasting her. Needing her so bad it hurt .

"Aren't you going to say it back to me now ?" She impatiently mumbled into the kiss, and he could feel her frowning against his cheek , fingers tugging a little harder at his hair in punishment for making her wait .

He laughed breathlessly against her lips, more than amused at the sass she still had. Even in a soft moment like this, she still gave him attitude.

That was his girl.

"I'm so in love with you." He grinned , kissing her again simply because he could now .

Then he groaned in misery "And your brother is going to kill me." He muttered , sighing as he pulled away.

Looking down at her carefully , his lips twitching . Taking in her swollen lips and flushed cheeks , the way she pulled him in. Fidgeting with his belt loops , Puckering her lips up impatiently for another kiss. Greedy for them now.

"Which part of my face do you think he'll break first?" He wondered out loud warily.

She just grinned. Giggling . Kissing all across his face , giddy with love.

"Hopefully not your nose. I really like your face. Kind of want to sit on it soon ." She let him know. Not caring too much about it.

She loved him. He loved her. There really wasn't much her brother could do about it now. No matter what he did or what he said , it wasn't going to change a single thing.

So She kissed him again. Smugly. "I'm worth it through aren't i?" She confidently muttered , giggling as he bruised his face into her neck. His laughter tickling her skin as he held her close, the smile never leaving his face.

He laughed breathlessly as she began tugging him impatiently to the bedroom. The buttons of his shirt flying across the room as she ripped it off him, leaving him panting and watching her with wide eyes . So in love it hurt.

"You are so worth it." He promised. Meaning it.

He would take as many punches to the face as her brother gave him. As long as he got to come home to her for the rest of his life. He would be happy.

She was trouble . But she was Cherrie. And he loved her. So the little shithead was worth every headache and every worry.

Because she was his now.

Finally.