#looks like two dads about to drop their kiddos off at college

[theworldofotps]

The absolute joy this picture brings me🖤💜

[tieronecrush]

secret santa

dbf!joel miller x f!reader

summary: your parents throw a christmas party every year, and this is your first time in the “adult” secret santa exchange. the last few times home, you’ve found joel, your dad’s friend, staring a bit too long, flicking away when he’s caught. for the game, of course, you get joel’s name. and you’re going to make sure it’s the best gift he’s ever received.

rating: E

wc: 5.6k

warnings: daddy kink, age gap (sorry folks but i did want to try my hand at dbf!joel lol i pictured him around 50, reader around mid-late 20s), alcohol consumption, mentions of food, distant relationship with parents, party, christmas, gift giving, secret santa game, bit of deception on reader's part just to get joel alone, lingerie, body worship, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, restraints (using clothes/undergarments), daddy!joel, soft!dom joel, praise, a few instances of degradation, dirty talk (as always)

a/n: (images in moodboard do not convey what reader looks like, only the vibe! no descriptions of reader) my first dbf!joel…milestone moment lol <3 hope y’all enjoy my take on the dbf trope! and tysm to my babies for beta-ing @northernbluess and @kiwisbell love you both 😚

dividers by @saradika

Twenty years. This same godforsaken party has been happening every December for the last twenty years of your life, full of overserved middle aged parents, and never has it been less enjoyable than since you’ve been an “adult”. An adult still treated as a child, chastised, fawned over, always told to follow the golden rule. No, not treat others as they wish to be treated. Your family’s golden rule was speak only when spoken to.

And your father was the enforcer. Always required you home for the party, even away, out of state for college, away for the semester studying abroad halfway across the world. You were flown home and called upon to do the heavy lifting — groceries, liquor runs, cleaning the house, decorating to make it all feel magically festive.

At times, it felt like Cinderella had nothing on you. At least she had a prince.

The only time that this party has ever been remotely improved was when Joel Miller moved into the neighborhood. He’d snuck in under your radar due to the fact that it happened the few months you were living abroad, but coming back for the party and Christmas break, you were quickly introduced to him by your father. His new “best friend”. One among many. Each serving a unique purpose to get your dad ahead.

Upon meeting Joel, you were drawn to him immediately. Skeptical over the fact he found company with your dad, but much to your surprise, he was different. Maybe lonely and looking for a friend; you’d found he was living alone, his adult daughter, Sarah, in her final years at the University of Chicago — a choice that was hers but Joel admittedly feared, you learned. He only encouraged her, regardless of the fact he was anxious about losing his kiddo.

Not the same sentiments your dad had when dropping you off to school in the farthest, cheapest corner of the country you could find. He was nearly jumping up and kicking his feet together in glee to get you out of the house.

Joel, though, Joel was kind hearted and patient. He was curious and caring, asking you about school, work, your life every time he saw you over the years. Warmth radiated from him despite his more shy demeanor. Comfortable. You felt so comfortable with him.

Which is what made the smallest of lingering glances or the slightest of smiles turned smirks that much more exhilarating.

Maybe you were being naive or projecting your burning desire for him onto every interaction, but as you stitched yourself tighter into Joel’s life over the years, you haven’t been able to help but notice him checking you out at times or slipping a subtle flirty comment into conversations between the two of you. You would give it right back, and that would usually pump the breaks, bringing things back to surface level.

There was one time this past summer, after a neighborhood barbecue that your parents left early from, that you and Joel really had a moment. It was loud, music drowning out the back and forth you were having to the point where you couldn’t quite make out every word, and Joel must have felt the same because he made sure you heard his next words clearly — “Do you want to go somewhere quieter?”

Agreeing immediately, he pressed his large hand into the midpoint of your back, guiding you out of the confines of the party and to the open air of the street. He led you to his place and around back, pulling two lounge chairs next to his pool closer to each other.

That night, thanks to the alcohol buzzing in your system, you confessed more about your home life and your feelings around it. Joel was surprised, given the picture-perfect image your father paints for everyone, but he was comforting as always. Even as far as offering you his spare room if you ever needed a break.

That’s when you knew you were done for. Never in your life had you wanted to just kiss someone that badly. Let alone all of the thoughts that came along with it.

Harboring this crush for your dad’s friend, fifty plus and a father himself, you attempted to keep things growing closer when you came back. Friendly, polite, reciprocating any amount of flirty banter he threw your way. Even initiating it yourself.

You were so incredibly into Joel Miller. And returning home this time, you decided it was high time you acted on those feelings.

The noise of the bustling party dies down enough for your dad to introduce the game, as if the attendees haven’t been participating for nearly as long as you’ve been alive. But your dad loves the attention on him, cracking jokes that make you roll your eyes while everyone else gives him a laugh. Always so focused on himself. How everyone else sees him. Image obsessed enough to forget to assign anyone as a Secret Santa to his own daughter but not forgetting to give her someone to gift to.

Granted, you weren’t that upset about who you’d drawn.

Watching from afar, you see Joel survey the empty space under the tree, only the deep cherry red skirt laid out on the hardwood. Nothing for him. Everyone opens their presents, laughter and excitement bubbling across the room as the point of the game begins. Partygoers start to guess their gifters, hoping to nail down their Secret Santa in one go. Conversations are struck up as people meet their pair, ‘thank you’s exchanged along with the gifts. Joel observes from his spot with a few of your neighbors, also friends with your dad, and the sight of him shifting his weight on his feet is enough to draw up the courage to approach him.

Crossing the room, flashes of him checking you out, lingering in conversations with you about work and your new apartment in the city, seeking you out each time you visit home flood your mind, reassuring your choices the closer you get to him. The closer you get to completely jumping into the deep end, the last few steps teetering you at the edge.

Slowing to a stop next to him, a finger of yours gingerly taps his strong shoulder a few times, pulling his attention away completely. Joel turns his body to face you, away from others to solely focus on you in front of him. The subtle sign of his attraction to you has your nerves tingling, clearing your throat when he speaks up in greeting.

“Hey there, sweetheart. Y’alright?” he asks, eyebrow raised. Always so goddamn sweet.

You sigh, a tinge dramatic but attempting to sell the dismay and toying with the flute glass in your hand. “Lame surprise, but I’m your Secret Santa and I stupidly left your gift upstairs. It’s a bit obnoxious to bring down so d’you mind coming up to open it and you can grab it at the end of the night?”

Joel agrees with a jolt of nervous excitement down his spine. Shuddering out the feeling subtly, he clears his throat and nods, awaiting your lead. He thinks he catches the slightest drag of your eyes up and down his body, lingering at the expanse of his shoulders and the sliver of his chest that is exposed from the two undone buttons of his red flannel.

When no one’s paying attention, you bring Joel upstairs into your old room that you’re staying in while you’re back in town for the holidays. He stands around a bit awkwardly, sticking out like a sore thumb with his broad shoulders stretching his red flannel, thick thighs straining deliciously against the perfectly worn material of his Levi’s. Stark against the frilly softness of your room, with its bright white furnishings, and feminine touches. He’s all man. Nothing like the guys your age who think they’re like him.

Joel glances about the room before he asks, “So, what was so difficult to get under the tree, sweetheart? You didn’t have to get me anything so major.”

“I wanted to. I mean, noticed you eyeing what I got you for a while so figured the least I could do was give it to you…” Joel’s face twists up in confusion, perplexed by the riddled clue before you’re standing in front of him, reaching to the side of your plaid skirt and dragging down the zipper. Joel stutters out nonsense at your actions, lifting his hands in surrender.

“Doll, I think—you don’t—” His mumblings die in his throat when you drop the material to your ankles, revealing red satin panties. When you turn around, a bow sits at the top of your ass, tying up the material to stay on your hips while elasticated bands run along the outline of your cheeks to connect to the crotch. Very little of your bum is covered, showing off the supple flesh to Joel. He’s rendered speechless, averting his gaze after a second too long of staring, the mumblings starting up again.

“S’not a good idea, shouldn’t be up here right now…” Joel looks around, looking over his shoulder toward the door. One of your hands reaches up to gingerly cup his chin, turning his flushed face to yours again. His pupils are blown wide, eyes darkened with desire. Your own gaze flicks down between the two of you, smirking at the bulge growing at the crotch of his jeans. So desperately trying to fight against what he really wants. Even when you’re serving it up in a pretty little package.

He makes no movement toward the door, which you take as a sign of letting go of at least some of his apprehension. Fingers grip the hem of your sweater, pulling it up and over your head, discarding it on your carpet along with your skirt.

Matching red satin material, the bra you’re wearing has a similar structure to your panties. Held up with straps and the usual clasps at the back, the front is a large gift bow, pulled tight when you tied it earlier this evening to push up the flesh of your breasts. One tug at the tail end of both the ribbons, the one at your chest and at your ass, would fully expose you to Joel. Something you’re desperate to propose to him.

“Aren’t you gonna unwrap your present, Joel?” Picking up each of his hands in yours, you guide one to your lower back and one to your chest, coaxing his fingers to wrap around the ends of the bows. “Or do you not like your gift? I thought you wanted this…”

“No, no, no. I like it. I really fucking like it, sweetheart, I just…Everybody’s downstairs and—”

“I can be quiet. I’m a good girl, Joel.”

That flips a switch in him, hearing those words from you. His eyes darken further, pink tongue poking out to wet his lips. A burning stare combs over you, head to toe, alighting flames in your gut that lick against your insides. Heat crawls across the back of your neck, pooling in your collarbone, and craving oozes between your ribs and between each of your vertebrae. Joel’s right hand lifts from his side, skating up the length of your left arm and leaving goosebumps rising in its wake. Fingertips ghost over the strap of your bra, down to the center of your collarbone, and sitting there. That lasts only a second before his long, thick fingers wrap around the base of your throat, raising his loose grip to settle underneath your jaw.

The silence is heavy, airy breaths the only sounds passed between the two of you. His hand at your neck coaxes your head to tip back, staring up at him looking down at you. A flicker to your lips. A low, curious hum. Arousal pools in between your thighs as you wait with bated breath for something, anything to happen.

“You’re dangerous, doll.” His whisper is coated in lust, his gaze greedy as it drinks you in once again.

“I’m a gift,” you correct sweetly, feigning innocence as a smirk grows on your face at his dark chuckle.

“A gift that keeps on giving?” he questions. His hand twists to allow his thumb to find your bottom lip, dragging across its glossy, cherry surface.

“I guess you’ll have to find out…” Your mouth stays open after speaking, tongue slipping out to lick the tip of Joel’s thumb. He presses his finger further, pushing between your lips as you welcome it, sucking gently. Joel sighs, shoulders relaxing while his eyes flash with need.

“Christ…” he hisses under his breath, shaking his head subtly before clearing his throat. Speaking sternly, unwavering, he says, “Can I unwrap my present, babydoll?”

His thumb leaves your mouth with a quiet pop, hand finding its place again at the slack of the bow at your chest, other arm wrapping around to find the bow at your ass. A gentle tug moves the satiny smooth material a few centimeters, not enough to pull it fully undone.

“All yours, Joel. Picked out ‘specially for you.” Joel smirks at your candied reply, eager to give him exactly what he’s been wishing for. What you’ve caught him staring at the last few times you’ve come back home. What you have been wanting for just as long, if not longer.

“Such a sweet girl. Beautiful girl.”

The words send a tingle down your spine, stoking the flames inside of you. Your eyes stay trained on Joel’s face while his fingers draw the bow at your chest undone, the lengths of material hanging at your sides and exposing your breasts. He licks his lips at the sight of your pebbled nipples, rolling out a stifled groan from his chest.

“Fuck, baby…S’pretty.”

Joel’s hands fan across your lower back, holding your hips against his, pressing his bulge into your covered mound. His broad frame folds forward, draping you backwards in his arms as his mouth attaches to your chest. Humid, open-mouthed kisses are littered across your skin, nips taken at the tender flesh of your breasts. Closing his lips around one of your nipples, he sucks strongly, pulling a whimper from your throat.

“Thought you could be quiet, doll?” he rasps, raising an eyebrow as he looks up at you from your sternum.

Nodding furiously, you pout your lower lip out, whispering back, “I can be, I will be. I promise.”

“You promise? Don’t make promises you can’t keep, baby.” Joel stands up straight, pulling you with him to press against his torso. Catching your lips in a deep kiss, Joel breathes a sigh into your mouth, melting his tongue against yours and drinking in the taste of you.

Dripping with saccharine sugar. Coated with syrupy goodness, plump and succulent like a maraschino cherry. A toothache, or maybe even a heartache waiting to happen.

He’s fucking screwed, but damn if it doesn’t feel good as he nails himself to his own persecution from whoever may find out about this.

Handfuls of your undulating curves fill his palms as he kisses you, groaning into your mouth as he grabs at the swell of your ass. Silky satin brushes against his hand, reminding him of the other part of his present to unwrap. Pulling away from your mouth with one last lick of your candied taste, he has the mind to imagine what the rest of your flavors all across your body might be.

Joel turns you in his arms, back flush to his chest as he grinds his bulge against the lustrous fabric, smirking to himself as you whimper quietly, so hushed he can barely hear it over his heartbeat thudding in his ears. Lips coast over the shell of your ear, nibbling your lobe before pressing a kiss right below.

“Can I undo your other pretty bow, babygirl? Unwrap the rest of my present?” Joel nips again when you breathe out consent. He walks you closer to the bed, hitting your knees against the frame before he takes one step back, touch still lingering on your skin. From behind you, he sighs appreciatively as he drinks in your form, licking his lips as his eyes devour you.

Pinching the ribbon between his thick fingers, he flicks it against your skin, satisfied with the way you react with goosebumps raised. One gentle tug unravels it all, exposing your cheeks to him fully and with the drop of the material from between his fingertips, your panties fall to the floor. One hand wrapping around your thigh, Joel coaxes you to step out to the side with it, kicking the fabric from your ankle.

He kneels behind you, pressing his lips against the swell of your ass. Flooded with the scent of your skin, vanilla and cinnamon, the smell of Christmas. Nose smashed into the supple flesh, teeth sinking into the curve, a gentle bite stealing another taste of you. A curse is mumbled against you, a sweet kiss pressed on the tiny birthmark on your ass, tongue tracing into the fading bite mark.

“Joel…” you whine above him, hand reaching back and nimble fingers tangling into his messy, gray curls.

“I know, doll. Got lost there for a second. You’re so perfect…”

He sighs again, standing up with a quiet crack in his joints. A blatant reminder of the difference between you two. Young versus old. Sprightly versus verging on doddering. Even if he is eager, there’s no denying the difference.

There’s no doubt in your mind that Joel’s about to be more of a gift to you than you are to him. The way he’s touching you, delicate worship before he’s even gotten to what he truly wants, taking his time despite the pressure of the party downstairs. Serves as a reassurance that he wants this as much as you do, wants to take his sweet time if this is going to be his only chance.

You pray to god it isn’t. Even before you’ve even laid eyes on his cock, you just know. He’s going to fuck you senseless. Ruin every other man for you.

In a blur, he guides you to fall forward onto the mattress, hooking fingers to remove your panties from your other ankle while you scoot toward the center. He finds solace between your legs, propping your hips up into a kneeling position to give him easier leverage. 

“Think this might be my favorite present I’ve been given, doll. So fucking gorgeous. Looking delectable…Can I have a taste, darling? You as sweet as you seem?”

Your head is turned sideways, laying against the plush comforter, opening your mouth to whisper to him in the same moment he swipes his tongue through your folds, groaning into your inner thigh before he dives back in, working to devour you like a man starved, quenching his thirst on your arousal. Flicking his tongue against your pearl, coated in your translucence, suckling at it with pure need. Turning to press the front of your face into your bedding, it muffles your moans and whines, raising in pitch as he fucks your tight cunt with his strong tongue, lapping at you with the same fervor he’d lick the color from a candy cane.

“Fuck, Joel, fuck fuck fuck!” you shout in a scouring voice, scratching your vocal chords together with a strain. Curling your fingers into the softened, washed fabric, you gasp when one of his solid fingers slips into your walls. He groans, holding back his louder reaction to your gripping walls, hypnotized by the way you even stretch around his fingers when he adds another.

Head against your thigh, he studies the way you take his middle and ring fingers, the velvety slick of your pussy, and the spongy spot he finds, curling his digits to press into it and watch you squirm helplessly from the sensitive pleasure.

“Talkin’ all well mannered and pretty. So quiet and polite all the time. With your ‘yes’sir’s and ‘please’s and ‘thank you’s. You think about saying those to me while you’re under me like this?”

“Yes, yes’sir. All the fucking time. Every time I—I looked at you, felt myself…felt myself gettin’ so fucking wet. Was always dripping around you, waiting for something to happen. For you to take me so I can be a good girl for you, sir,” you confess, obedience and need sitting every word so prettily into his ears. “M’so—Fuck m’gonna come, Joel.”

He nods slowly, taking last looks at your cunt before he moves his fingers in and out quicker, dipping his chin down for his mouth to find your clit against, lapping at your dripping wetness and sucking hard. At the next press of his fingers against that spot inside of you, your vision grows blurred, white haze painting everything with a dreamlike filter. You bite into the linen fabric of your comforter, gagging yourself to keep quiet as you come, digging the balls of your feet to the mattress to push yourself away from Joel who continues to work you through it. He grabs at you, tugging you back to get his fill until you sob, overstimulation drawing tears up to the corners of your eyes.

“All kept and composed and ladylike. Been taught to behave, haven’t you? Bet you fucking love to be such a little slut. Anybody ever let you? Such a dirty girl, aren’t you, babydoll?” Joel’s voice sounds distanced at first, senses falling back into place in your body as you come down completely. His work-worn hands coast over your body, roughening against your soft skin like sandpaper moving with the grain. Little resistance but catching in places it favors.

“Just—Just for you, Daddy.” It slips out smoothly from your mouth, the weight of the title heavy against your tongue in the same way you imagine his cock would feel. Filling. Satisfying.

Joel rises slowly from where he’s bent behind you, letting one leg fall behind him as he stands, the other propped on the bed. His eyes narrow in on yours, lips parted and tongue darting out as he replays what you said.

Daddy.

First, you’re already on his mind and years younger, yet he couldn’t stop picturing you in this exact position. Next, you’re the one to make the first move, dragging him away from this Christmas party and presenting him with a Secret Santa gift that feels way out of the budget. You’re priceless. And now, you’re laid out for him, already nearly at the level of fucked out from him only using his mouth and fingers, and you’re fucking calling him Daddy.

Best Christmas of his goddamn life.

“Now, darlin’, were you saving that to be the cherry on top of the cake? ‘Cause that’s just about the sweetest thing. My pretty lil’ babydoll saying she’s Daddy’s dirty girl,” he scoffs in disbelief, shaking his head while his fingers work his button open on his jeans, dragging the zipper down against his throbbing bulge. “Gonna have to be quiet, yeah? Gotta keep your sweet mouth closed while Daddy fucks you, doll.”

“I’ll be quiet, promise. Please, Daddy.” Your pleas widen Joel’s smirk, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips once again. He pushes his denim down with his cotton boxers in their wake, sighing softly when his hard cock is fully freed. His tip is aching and red, leaking precum and leaving a wet spot on his underwear. With one hand, he starts to slowly stroke himself, holding in a moan enough that it leaves his lips as a soft exhale.

“Good girl…” he mumbles, studying your form. “Move back toward me, babygirl. Hands behind your back.”

Complying with his direction, you inch back until Joel places a hand on your lower back. At that, you lay forward again, the side of your face pressing against the duvet as Joel steps back from the bed and searches the floor. A dribble of drool drips from the corner of your lips as you watch him, one large hand around his cock, spreading his precum along his length. Part of you has the mind to beg for him in your mouth, to completely disregard the need pulsating your cunt at the moment, and to feel his warm spend coating your throat as he finishes fucking it.

But you’re fucking selfish. This is also a gift for you, so win-win.

Pressing your wrists together at your lower back, you observe as Joel locates what he is looking for, standing up with a devilish smirk. Your panties.

He towers over you again when he steps back to you, one hand coasting over the curve of your ass, a gentle smack delivered that makes a quiet yelp escape from your lips. The same hand skims back up your skin, easily grabbing both of your wrists in his long fingers and holding them closer while he slips the silky material behind. In a quick motion, he has your arms tied together with a bow, a content smile on his face as he makes eye contact with you.

“Wrapped all up again, babydoll. Such a pretty gift for me.”

“Well you’ve got a pretty package, Daddy,” you reply with a mischievous giggle, earning a breathy chuckle from Joel behind you. He grips the knot of your makeshift restraint, tugging taut to arch your back and pull your hips closer. His other hand wraps around the base of himself, dragging the head of him through your drenched folds, circling your clit, and chuckling again at the jump of your thighs.

“Please, Daddy, I need—” you start pleading, muffled into linen before you’re cut off by the stretch of Joel’s cock filling your tight hole, a gasp escaping your lungs with a punch. Your mouth is stuffed with the duvet from your bite down, nursing your tongue against the material as he slowly presses into you, inch by inch. There’s an ever-so-slight pain candy-coating the pleasure, melting away to get to the gooey, oozing center that spreads over your entire body.

Pausing when he reaches the hilt of himself, Joel sighs, rolling his head back as he internally thanks whatever Christmas magic must be out there for this moment.

“So fucking tight, baby.” 

Your dampened whine shoots a wave of intense need throughout him, growling low as he holds your restraint tighter, dragging his hips back before he starts a punishing pace. Control escapes him, desire taking over his actions as he starts to properly fuck you. His cock teaching you how to take every single inch of it.

Messes of his name and your moans are stifled and stuttered into the comforter gagging you, chest hovering over the mattress as Joel holds tight to the knot in your panties.

“Can’t hold back any longer, baby, jus’—fuck—jus’ gonna take Daddy’s cock like a good girl, aren’t ya?” The only precision remains in the soft cracks of skin on skin, not loud enough to draw any attention from the party downstairs. Poppy carols play faintly in the background, the only other soundtrack being the vulgar mumbles slipping from Joel’s lips.

Drawing you closer and closer, the edge is tasted on your tongue, so close but barely in reach as the man behind you rocks his hips, the tip of his hard cock brushing that same spongy spot inside of you that he managed to reach with his fingers, bruising into your cervix with each snap.

At the next drag-out, Joel pulls away from you completely. When you whine with protest, he’s tugging you to stand up on your knees, whispering in your ear amid his quick movements, “Need to see your face when I make you come all over my cock…”

Before you can be left with any thoughts to a response, he’s flipping you onto your back, hands tied still, and tugging you near again. He steals a pillow from the top of your bed, shoving it under your hips to lift your pelvis, gifting himself the perfect angle to thrust into you again from the height he stands at.

The new angle punches out moans from your chest, Joel’s name littering the empty room as you try so hard to remain quiet.

“Shh, I know, doll, I know. Feels so fucking good, doesn’t it? Y’love bein’ Daddy’s little slut.” Nodding furiously, another louder moan leaves your mouth, brows knit together with worry as you hurtle closer and closer to the edge.

A large palm moves to cover your mouth, shaking his head slowly to remind you of your promise to be his good girl, his quiet girl. 

“Pleasepleaseplease, Daddy…” He feels the vibrations of your voice against his hand, the words muddled into slight nonsense from pleasure clouding your brain. Joel holds onto one of your legs, pulling it up to hook onto his shoulder and press forward to get deeper inside of you. The switch has you screaming into his palm, eyes squeezing shut as you squirm under him.

“Eyes on me, babygirl. Keep your eyes on Daddy.”

Joel’s hips pound into you, chasing his own climax. Your eyes snap open at his instruction, mouthing at his hand and moaning loudly behind it, nodding your head furiously. Your tight walls squeeze around his hard cock, his grunts held back to keep quiet despite the noise of the party downstairs growing in volume.

“Come on, doll. Come on my cock…Fuck, you gonna let Daddy fill up your pretty little cunt?” The quick, speechless nods answers his question, both of you toeing the edge.

There’s a moment when both of you seize up, muscles tense and eyes burning into each other’s. It only lasts a split second before it explodes with a pop, at the same second a champagne bottle pops downstairs. Joel breathes out your name, over and over, mingling with your whimpers of his name and Daddy switching back and forth in your mind. Interchangeable to you.

Pleasure fizzes over your bodies like bubbles in the flutes being filled, the bubbling aerations trickling up up up to your head, making you feel lighter than air as pure bliss overwhelms you. Tingles aftershock across your nerves, a shiver sent down your spine as Joel pulls out.

Quietly, he groans as he watches his excess spend drip out of you, mixing with your come and glistening against your folds. One thick finger swipes at the spot, pushing the swirl of you back inside of your walls.

A soft whimper slips from your lips and Joel’s eyes meet yours in a flash, a gentle smile stretching across your face. He coaxes you to sit up and unties your hands behind your back, slowly massaging your wrists with his thumbs and kissing where the skin rubbed against the fabric. The tender touches accompany the soothing, comfortable silence.

Redressing you, Joel attempts to tie the bows of your bra and panties, huffing softly in frustration. You giggle when he’s working on your bra, taking his chin gingerly between your fingers and turning his head to look at you. Leaning in, his lips catch yours in a sweet, sugary gumdrop kiss. 

It’s another moment before both of you are fully dressed again. You study yourself in the mirror above your dresser, smoothing your hair down. Joel steps up behind you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and kissing your shoulder through the knit sweater. He turns you around to face him again, grinning shyly as his eyes comb over your face.

The two of you share another kiss, his calloused hand cradling your cheek when he pulls away.

“You gonna be under my tree again on Christmas day, doll?”

“Depends…Were you naughty or nice this year?” you counter, earning a quiet laugh from Joel as he shakes his head.

“Think what just happened has put me on the naughty list for a long time, babygirl. And you, too.” He shoots you a cheeky wink and you laugh, shaking your head as you lock your fingers together in front of you.

“I did actually get you something though…” you admit shyly, rocking back and forth on the heels of your feet.

Joel grins, eyes flicking down to your anxious hands. His thumb brushes against the skin of your cheek, eyes meeting yours again as he replies, “You have another gift for me? Didn’t need to do that, doll.”

“I mean…Kinda needed a backup plan if this whole thing didn’t work out.” A chuckle is shared between both of you before you continue, “Sorry for spoiling the whole guessing game of Secret Santa.”

“Darlin’, you could spoil any games for me if it ends up with this kinda surprise.” Joel smirks before stealing another quick kiss, pulling away when you step back to fish out the small, meticulously wrapped giftbox from the top right drawer of your dresser.

Handing over the square package, Joel’s eyes glitter with boyish excitement. The corner of his mouth pulls up to one side while his thick fingers slip under the creases of the paper to rip the tape, undoing the festive wrapping to reveal the lidded giftbox that he opens quickly. Inside, Joel studies the contents. Small triangles with rounded corners made from thin nylon plastic. A deep emerald green, all sitting like precious gemstones. His initials are branded into one side with gold paint, the flip side emblemed with the silhouette of an owl.

“Sweetheart…Thank you. These are real nice…” he speaks softly while he picks one up between his index and thumb, turning it between the tips of his fingers. “They’re perfect. Gonna be sad if I end up losing one of these like all my other picks.”

You smile sweetly, stepping closer again and resting your hands on his biceps, “Guess you’ll have to take good care of ‘em.”

As he looks at you, he mirrors your smile, sharing one more gentle kiss before whispering against your lips, “Can think of another something I have to take good care of.”

taglist: @atinylittlepain @swiftispunk @joelsversion @mrsmando @ilovepedro @lovers-liability @deathwife @undrthelights @atticrissfinch @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @yazsos @peppesgirl @pastawench @addictedtotlou @brittmb115 @anoverwhelmingdin @spishsstuff @wolfbook87 @mswarriorbabe80 @harriedandharassed @decemberdolly @laiisleitte @fierce-bab @vickie5446 @pertinentpostmortem @livingdeadmaria @sullyosully @bitchwitch1981 @its-nebuleuse @marini03 @piercethevic03 @joeandpedrosimp @planet-marz1 @txtattoostark @jrosie25 @thereaperisabitch @tbniarq @vee-bees-blog @spidermanfrog @belliezz @joelsflannel @cartoon-garbage04 @bianqueee04 @nostalxgic @xyzstar @cumberpegg @b00klvrs @burningnerdchild

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Jazzercise!: Hazbin Hotel

Buckle up, Buttercups! This one's long.

Charlie: (wearing a pair of pink leggings, rainbow sneakers, white exercise t-shirt, and a red sweatband around her head) Alright, Everyone! Today, we're going to be doing some team bonding exercises throoooough- Da-Dada-Daaaaaah! -Exercise!!!

Hazbins: (all groan in dismay and grumble and clamor in annoyance)

Angel: (wearing powder pink leg warmers and neon green leotard that looks like it came out of an 80s) Is there any way we can sit this out? Some of us are hungover.

Vaggie: (wearing a black and purple sports bra and black spandex shorts that cut off halfway down her thighs, hair tied up in a ponytail) Still? We celebrated the hotel's grand reopening last week.

Husker: (wearing your stereotypical gym teacher windbreaker pants but no shirt or jacket) The empty liquor wall at the bar will verify.

Lucifer: (magically appears wearing a pair of bright red, men's booty workout shorts from the 70s, white Dad sneakers with tall red socks, and a white and red sleeveless shirt tucked into the shorts) Well, I'm all for a little sweat and hard work! Whatcha got for us, kiddo?!

Charlie: Dad! (Averts her eyes) What are you wearing?!

Lucifer: What?! I wore this in my college days!

Angel: Oooooh! While I'm not complaining there, Short King, I don't think Charlie appreciates seeing the "King's Apple" lodged in your shorts.

Lucifer: Huh? (Looks down at the natural, indiscreet bulge in his shorts) ........But these shorts cup the boys so nicely.

Charlie: (about to puke like when she watched Angel's best porno during show and tell)

Vaggie: Babe, let's just focus on getting the workout done. Alright?

Charlie: OoOookay.... Um... Do you mind taking over? I actually have no idea what I'm doing.

Vaggie: (sparkle in her eye) Sure thing, babe. (Turns to the rest and squares her shoulders) Alright, we are going to start with two easy laps around the track followed by partner bear crawls for two hundred meters, thirty burpies, and ending with twenty inverted push-ups! Any questions?

Hazbins: (awkwardly glance at each other)

Niffty: (wearing a 50s style one piece workout suit) YAY!!! PAIN!!!

Vaggie: THEN MOVE!!!

-One Hour Later-

Hazbins: (moaning and groaning in agony as they lay defeated on the track)

Angel: (rolled out like a spider that got run over) Charlie..... Toots.....

Charlie: (gasping for breath as she falls to her knees and holds herself up on shaking arms) Yeah.... Angel?

Angel: (Looks over to Vaggie who is on her third iteration of bear crawls and using an equally dead Lucifer for weight) If this psychopathic bitch of a stamina monster brings this kind of energy to the bedroom, (wheezes and coughs) then I'll pray for your loins the next time you guys have sex.

Charlie: (panting as she rolls onto her back, too tired to even correct the inappropriate statement) Thank you, Angel. (Tilts her head up and leans on her elbows to watch Vaggie)

Vaggie: (finishes the bear crawls and drops Lucifer off with a jump) Thanks for being my partner, Sir. (Breaks into her burpees)

Lucifer: (wheezes through little spindles of smoke) No problem, Vaggie. Anytime. (To Charlie) What do you feed that girl?

Charlie: (watching Vaggie intently with a fresh blush not caused by exertion)

Angel: Charlie?

Charlie: (watches the muscles in Vaggie's thighs and shoulders work as she speeds through her burpees)

Lucifer: Chaaaaarlie? (Snaps fingers) Little Duckie, are you alright?

Charlie: (hearts beat in her eyes and Careless Whispers plays in the background somewhere as she watches Vaggie's leg, shoulder, and back muscles contract and flex under the duress)

Vaggie: (finishes her burpees and goes into a handstand, briefly getting her balance before starting her handstand push-ups)

Charlie: (watches a bead of sweat follow the contours of Vaggie's shoulder muscles and scars and drool starts dribbling down her chin) Angel.... I need that prayer now....

Angel: Huh? (Follows Charlie'sline of sight and groans in pain as he brings his hands up in prayer) Our Unholy Father of Debauchery, please see that this horny bitch's snatch makes it safely out of the upcoming pounding she is about to receive. May her holes be elastic and well lubricated to avoid tearing, her legs be flexible as they reach behind her head, her orgasms shake her very foundation, and the aftercare be filled with all the cutsey cuddling she can handle. Amen.

Charlie: (continues watching) I wanna climb her.

Lucifer: (awkwardly) Uhhhhh.... Vaggie's not a tree, sweetie.

Charlie: I want her to *CENSORED* my *CENSORED* and *BEEEP BEEEP BEEEEEEEEP* while *CENSORED*,and then *BEEEEEEEEEEEP* and *CENSORED*

Angel: (gasps and clutches his imaginary pearls) Holy Fuck, Babe!!! Cool your jets! (Pulls out his phone and starts recording) I gotta use some of these lines at the next recording!

Charlie: When she smacks my *BEEEEP*, I want to *CENSORED* *BEEEP BEEP* and *BEEEEP-EP-EP-BEEEEEEEP* to taste *CENSORED*.

Lucifer: (faints after hearing his daughter saying such filth)

Angel: (stops recording) ......Fucking-A, Charlie, that's even making me feel dirty.....

Thank you, @sevi-fuk, for giving me the idea of Charlie going fiendish about Vaggie and her muscles.

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Mister Riley | Pt. 1

(A/N) Here it is, the 15 page masterpiece (not really). But I still hope you enjoy it. The two other parts will be posted within the next few days.

Pairing: dbf!Simon x Reader (no Y/N)

Warning: suggestive themes (smut in part 2 and 3), cursing

Synopsis: It's the summer holidays and you decide to visit your parents. While on your way, your mom lets you know that Simon, your dad's best friend and your crush since you know what crushes are, is going to pick you up at the train station. This is going to end well...right?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we will soon arrive at our final destination. Please make sure you take all your belongings with you when you leave the train. Thank you for choosing us today.”

You barely registered the announcement as you stared at your phone. Two stops ago you had texted your mom that you would soon arrive, so she’d know when to pick you up from the train station. It was planned all along that she’d do so, but now the plans had changed. Staring back at you was a text from her, letting you know that your dad’s best friend, Simon, would be picking you up. Apparently, he was going past the train station anyway and since he was on his way to your parent’s house, he offered to pick you up.

Now, if it had been any other friend of your dad, you wouldn’t really have minded. But this was Simon, the man you’ve had a constant crush on, since you were old enough to understand what kind of god of a man he is. Of course, your crush never went anywhere, but a girl could dream, you know?

You hadn’t seen him since you’d left for college two years ago. Sure, you knew that you would see him again at your parent’s party this weekend, but you thought you still had time before that. The way it was looking now, you had about ten minutes.

With renewed determination, you jumped to your feet and grabbed your duffle bag, locking yourself in the toilet. Originally, you had planned to safe your shortest pair of hot pants - which left nothing to the imagination - for the actually barbecue, but now you had a good reason to wear them earlier.

You paired them with a forest green, corset like, tight crop top. You didn’t bring another pair of shoes, so you put your heeled ankle boots back on and left the toilet, but only after refreshing your make up.

Soon after, the train stopped and you followed the other passengers out and onto the platform.

You spotted Simon as soon as your eyes adjusted to the bright sun. A cigarette between his fingers and leaning against his truck, he looked like a god on earth. And of course you weren’t the only one noticing that. It felt like every woman close to him couldn’t take her eyes off of him. You even saw a few whispering with their friends.

But…his eyes were on you.

You picked up your duffel bag and started walking to him. And maybe you were swaying your hips a bit more then necessary, but it was working, as you noticed his eyes racking over your form before they landed on yours.

“Hi Mister Riley.”

You dropped your duffle bag and stretched, letting your crop top ride up a bit further. Again, his eyes, which were looking into your eyes before, raked over your body and stopped at your chest. You couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at your lips. Simon quickly cleared his throat, before turning to his truck.

“Kiddo.”

He nodded in greeting and you rolled your eyes.

“Will you stop calling me that? I’m a grown woman now.” His eyes flicked from yours, to your chest, to your lips and back to your eyes. Then he turned away.

“Let’s go.”

Once again, you rolled your eyes before you obeyed and threw your bag in the back of the trunk before getting in on the passenger side. As soon as you were buckled up, Simon drove off.

The drive to your parent’s house was uneventful. Well, at least for you. But for Simon it was a battle not to crash the truck. The sight of your bare thighs, squished against his car seat did something to him. Multiple times, he had to rearrange the way he was sitting as his cock grew stiffer by the second.

As soon as he had seen you at the train station he knew that he was in trouble. The little girl he had babysitted from time to time had grown into a beautiful woman. A woman that caused him to drool if he wasn’t careful. He knew it was wrong, but the way your tits jiggled whenever the truck passed a bump, didn’t help the growing bulge.

A sigh left his lips as he parked in front of your parent’s house, his best friend’s house. A wave of guilt overcame him as he watched you jump out of the truck, your ass jiggled at the motion. He almost groaned at the sight, as his cock twitched in his pants. He had to have you, no matter what.

Simon took a deep breath, got out of the car and quickly checked if his bulge was visible. As soon as he was sure that it wasn’t, he followed you to the front door.

“Mom! Dad! I’m home!”

Squeals sounded from within the house and both you and Simon could hear your mom running through the house to get to the front door. As soon as she saw you, she enveloped you in a big hug. She spoke as she pulled back to look at you.

“I’ve missed you so much, my dear.”

She smiled at you, unshed tears in her eyes and you almost started crying.

“I missed you too mom.”

You hugged her again, squeezing her extra tight.

“There she is!”

Your dad came walking towards you and your mom and you immediately threw your arms around him. You hadn’t seen your parents in over a year, so this was long overdue. As you pulled away from the hug with your dad, his eyes immediately found the hulk of a man behind you.

“Simon! It’s been too long!”

They immediately fell into a hug, patting each other’s back on a brotherly fashion, while my dad led his friend inside the house. Your mom picked up your duffle bag and gestured you to follow her.

“I cleaned your old room, so you can stay in there while you’re here. Also got you some new bedsheets and threw out the old Barbie ones, I’m sure you don’t mind.”

As your mom was talking about your bedsheets, especially the old ones, you noticed Simon glancing at you, a smirk on his lips. You just glared at him, mouthing a quick ‘fuck off’, making him chuckle.

“Also, I hope you brought a bathing suit or something like that. All the ones that you left here would be way too small on you now, we gave them to your cousins.”

“Don’t worry, ma. I brought a bikini.”

She turned around and smiled at you as she lead you to the stairs.

“If you want, go and change, the pool’s got a great temperature. Dad will fire up the grill in an hour, when the rest of the guests are here.”

You nodded and thanked your mom, before making your way upstairs. Once in your room, you dropped your duffle bag on your bad and started rummaging through it, fishing out your red bikini.

You had just undressed down to your underwear when the door to your bedroom suddenly opened and quickly closed again. Startled, you turned around, just to see Simon, his back against the door and a hunger in his eyes.

“Wha-”

Before you could get the entire word out of your mouth, he was up against you, his hands squeezing the flesh at your hips and his forehead pressed against yours. A groan escaped him and he cursed under his breath.

“You’re gonna make me loose it.”

With another groan and a squeeze of his fingers, he crushed his lips against yours, swallowing the moan that immediately left your lips. He continued to work his lips against yours, pushing his body onto yours, trying to get you as close as possible.

A sudden nip at your lower lip caused you to squeak in surprise, making Simon pull back and look towards the door.

“Honey, are you okay?”

You were breathing hard, your chest rising and falling with each intake of air. How could you answer her in that state? Simon chuckled, his lips moving to your neck as he started to nibble on the soft flesh.

“Answer her, love. Or should I?”

That thought got you going.

“I-I’m okay. Ju…Just though I saw a spider.”

You heard your mom chuckling downstairs, while she walked away from the landing.

“Good girl.”

A whimper passed through your lips, as you squeezed your eyes shut, his words moving straight to your core. You rubbed your thighs together, desperate for some friction, but Simon wasn’t ready to give that to you yet.

“So someone likes to be praised.”

He tugged on your earlobe, making you moan.

“That is so good to know.”

With those words he suddenly straightened back up and took a few steps back. Your eyes followed him as he moved to the door, winked at you and left the room.

It took you a minute or so to calm down. You couldn’t believe that all of that had just happened. The things you’d been fantasising about since you were a teenager just came true. You quickly moved to the mirror, hanging on your wall, to check if that make out session had left some traces, and indeed it did.

Aside from the fact that your face was a bright red, that fucker had given you hickeys. You groaned, annoyed. How were you going to explain this to your parents?

With heavy steps, you went back to your duffle bag and rummaged through it until you found your make up bag. Thankfully you had brought some water proof concealer, as well as a color correction palette.

For ten minutes, you tried your best to hide the bruises, and you were surprisingly satisfied with the end result. So you decided to put on your bikini, throw on a towel and make your way downstairs. As you passed the kitchen, your mom asked you about the spider, but you just assured her that it was just some dust that had gathered in a corner.

As you made your way outside to the backyard, you noticed that most of the people your parents had invited had arrived. The yard was filled with adult men and women, drinking, chatting and laughing.

Your eyes immediately landed on Simon, who was sitting close to the grill, with a woman on his lap. Her long flowing hair was hanging down her back, while she ran her hands up and down Simon’s naked chest, his own hand on her waist.

You watched her mouth move, but noticed that Simon’s eyes were on you the whole time. Of course he noticed the jealousy in your eyes and a smirk quickly formed on his face as he pulled the woman closer to him. You scoffed. Seeing him like this minutes after he kissed you hurt, but there was already a plan forming in your head. You just had to find your victim. And that was easier than you’d expected.

Of course some of the adults had brought their kids with them. And one of them you knew really well. You’d grown up with Benjamin, he was maybe one year older. And you knew that he’s had a crush on you for approximately as long as you had a crush on Simon. Your eyes quickly found him in the crowd and you made your way over to him, swaying your hips. You felt Simon’s eyes on you the entire time.

As you got closer you had to admit that he’d grown into a fine man. If your crush on Simon wasn’t that bad, you would have probably flirted with him the entire day. But now, he was the means to an end. And that end, was Simon all over you.

Continue here.

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Call of Duty - Masterlist

Master-Masterlist

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

In Plain Sight (Part 2)

Summary: The reader has a talk with Jensen about what actually happened with her ex-fiance that led her to come back home...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x daughter!reader (with lots of daughter!reader x OMC)

Word Count: 4,800ish

Warnings: language, mention of cheating/family angst/minor character death

A/N: More of a peek of Jensen and the reader’s relationship in this part along with some insight into Crew’s past!

______

It was late afternoon when you found yourself out back with your dad, his computer in his lap as he laid back in one of the lounge chairs under the porch. You were by the edge of the yard, camera focused on a lady bug hanging out on the edge of leaf. A few clicks of it went off before the little thing decided to fly away.

You spun around, taking a candid one of him working away, probably responding to several thousand emails if you had to guess.

“Y/N,” he chided without looking. “What’d I tell you about taking pictures without people’s approval?”

“Hey. This would go great on your insta,” you said, snapping another picture when he gave you a bitch face.

“I just had to buy you that camera when you were a kid, didn’t I.” He patted the end of the lounger and tucked his feet up, typing out another message as you walked over.

“Blame yourself. I would have been an accountant if you hadn’t pushed me to try photography as a job.” He closed his computer, setting it down on the small side table. 

“That’s what I get for being a good parent,” he chuckled as you sat down cross legged to face him. “Two things. One, I would really appreciate it if you gave Crew the friends and family discount for his pictures.”

You rolled your eyes. “He’s your friend. Of course I will. I was just messing with him.”

“Good. He normally doesn’t warm up to people so fast but he’s pretty relaxed around you.”

“Are you trying to set me up on a play date with him?” you scoffed. He shook his head. “Is he some weirdo loner or something? Both you and mom have said-”

“Crew went through a bad breakup last year. He lost a lot of his friends over it. He’s kind of on his own. He reminds me of a certain someone else in that way,” he said, nudging your knee with his foot. You glanced at the taupe cushioned space between you, not wanting to have this conversation. “I know you didn’t go out with friends last night, Y/N. Why did you lie?”

“This falls under the privacy thing we talked about.”

“This falls under I’m your father and I can damn well know what happened to you to make all your friends disappear.” You lifted your chin and faced him. He wouldn’t drop this. Not when he was like this. He’d wrestle you to the damn grass and get it out of you if he had to. 

Stubbornness unfortunately ran in the family.

“What happened with Anthony, kiddo?” he asked. 

“You know he cheated,” you mumbled. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

“Yes, but something else happened. You don’t lose all your friends if-”

“They weren’t my friends! They were his. All my high school friends are gone from Austin or I haven’t spoken to them since graduation. My college friends were all Anthony’s friends. I was just too stupid at the time to realize, to realize he’d been cheating on me our entire seven fucking year relationship. That he only wanted to marry me so he could divorce me once I got my trust and get a whole bunch of money. I came home because I was alone. The only reason I went out last night is because I see you and mom looking at each other like something’s wrong with me cause I spend my nights at home and-”

“Sh,” he said, pulling you straight into his lap, wrapping his arms around you. Sniffles filled the air as you realized you were crying, staining the shoulder of his t-shirt. He stroked his hand over your head, shushing you for a few moments. “God I wish you didn’t bottle shit up like me.”

“I was embarrassed,” you whispered, closing your eyes, hiding away in him. “I thought you thought I was weird or anti-social when I came home. I just…I got so used to Anthony doing things with his friends without me all the time in Atlanta and I buried myself in my work and-”

“One good friend is worth more than a thousand bad ones. You are not weird. I mean, you are, but in healthy ways, and you have nothing to be embarrassed about. Nothing.”

“I know but…” you trailed off. “I miss when we used to talk.”

“We were so close when you were in high school. I thought you grew up and got sick of me was all.” You shook your head, his hand rubbing up and down your back. “Well, it’s not true that you have no friends, you know. You got mom and your sisters and brother. Your whole family and I’d really like if we could be best friends again too.”

“Okay,” you said, nodding your head, hugging him tightly. 

“And you got Crew and that boy doesn’t make friends easily. I know you don’t have as big a social battery as most but there is not a damn thing wrong with that or with you. You need to cut yourself a break because Anthony and his friends are scumbags that are not worth a second of your time.” 

“Thanks dad,” you murmured, a heaviness in your body floating away. “And thank you for letting me come back home.”

“This place will always be your home. No matter where that is, you always have a place with us.”

“Especially since rent in Austin is obnoxious and you won’t let me live in anything in my budget,” you laughed.

“True,” he chuckled. “But, and you can tell me to shove it, I’d like it if you stuck around home for a bit. I don’t want you going off on your own until I know you can be okay by yourself again.”

“I’m actually kind of scared to live alone. I know that’s such a girl thing but I don’t…want to live by myself. I can pay rent or-”

“You clean up after yourself, you help around the house and you help trudge the other three around when it doesn’t inconvenience your work and you can stay here until you’re a hundred and thirty seven. I draw the line at a hundred and thirty eight, though.” You rolled your eyes, his large hand ruffling your head. “So. No more moping over the dickhead?”

“No more moping,” you said, giving him another hug before his arms loosened and you stood up. “What you said about Crew…”

“He’ll tell you in his own time if he wants. Just know he could use a friend right now.” You hummed, picking up your camera. “Send me that picture. I’ll tell all my followers you forced me to post it.”

“Knowing you, you will.”

“Y/N…” he chided as you turned to head inside. “Don’t get in the habit of working on the weekends. Trust me on that.”

“I know,” you said, taking a step and getting tsked. “Dad, please don’t ask me how the business is doing.”

“I know starting over in Austin set you back. You doing okay?” he asked. 

“Well if you really want to know, it’s none of your business,” you said with a smile, patting his head. “Later pops.”

“If I find out you’re not doing okay-”

“Dad,” you said, looking over your shoulder, halfway to the back door. “I’m doing fine. I promise. I need to build up a client list again but I got this.”

“Alright, alright,” he said, waving you off. “Let me or mom know if-”

“I need help. Now get back to your emails, movie star,” you said. He groaned and threw the pillow behind his back at you, barely grazing your leg. “Your aim’s gotten worse, old man.”

“I’m forty five you little shit,” he said, suddenly hopping up. “You need a good old fashioned toss in the pool is-”

You bolted inside, finding your mom in the kitchen and hiding behind her with your camera strapped firmly around your neck. He wouldn’t dare let that get ruined.

“You watch yourself, honey bun,” he said, circling you around your mom when his phone started to ring. He wandered off to the kitchen table, speaking in hushed tones before he was staring at you. “One sec. Hey Y/N? What’s your schedule look like this week?”

“I have an engagement shoot tomorrow morning and some family pics on Thursday afternoon for an hour and a wedding Friday evening,” you said. “Is that Crew?”

He was talking in his phone again though, nodding his head quickly. “Sounds perfect.”

“Did you just book me? I need to offer packages to my clients before-” you said before he put a finger against your lips and shushed you.

“Our on set photographer started her maternity leave this week and they screwed up getting her backfill in. The DP knows you do photography and if you can swing it, he wants you for the week, possibly longer. He can work with your schedule you already have,” he said. 

“Oh how exciting!” said your mom as you held up a hand.

“Dad, I’ve never done that kind of photography. Not since college and even then, it was only a few weeks on a real film set. I only shadowed. I wouldn’t even know what to do.” 

“You take pictures of scenes and behind the scenes. The job is everything you’ve ever done of me on a film set since I got you a camera when you were eight years old. Plus they’re in a bind and it doesn’t hurt to make some contacts in the business,” he said.

You pursed your lips, narrowing your eyes. “One week is all I promise. And I’m charging double my usual rate.”

“Let me handle your salary and all that. You just bring your A-game to set tomorrow. Deal?”

“Fine. But only this week, dad. Got it?”

“Crystal clear.”

Two Weeks Later

“This should be illegal,” you mumbled, snapping a picture of your dad between scenes. 

“I heard that and hey, I’m not a fan either,” he said, laying in the bed, forcing a smile out. “Think of this as a gift for your mother.”

“I’d rather gouge my own eyes out than think of what she’ll be doing with this ‘gift’ of yours,” you said, adjusting your focus. “Now act like I’m not here and give me your best blue steel or else I tell mom about the whole taking me skydiving thing.”

Several heads turned at you as he suddenly looked a whole lot more relaxed. Some would call it sexy. He was lying shirtless in bed, nothing but sheets wrapped around his slim waist. Well, he was wearing nude colored underwear but still. 

If you saw him looking like that at home you’d laugh and tell him he’d have an easier time seducing mom if he brought home an extra large burrito for her and cleaned the bathroom.

“Thank you. You look slightly less horrifying in these,” you said, putting your camera down.

“We really didn’t think about all the shirtless scenes when we hired you, did we,” your boss said, arms crossed as he stood by your side. “This doesn’t make you uncomfortable, does it? If there was ever going to be any full nudity-”

“Y/N’s out sick those days,” said your dad, closing his eyes and laying back against the pillows. “When are we rolling again? I need the bathroom.”

“Can you hold it for fifteen?” asked the director from nearby. Your dad gave a thumbs up and soon they were filming. You quietly lurked underneath one of the steady cameras, switched to a much quieter shutter. Crew suddenly appeared in the scene, the two of them sharing an awkward exchange. They repeated the scene one more time before they claimed it was set, your dad jumping out of bed, grabbing the robe that was thrust at him and rushing off to the nearest bathroom.

“Y/N.” You looked up, finding your boss, the director and the lead producer standing in front of you. You shot to your feet, immediately hitting your head on the camera rigging above and stumbling back down. “Are you-”

“Y/N!” Crew said, at your side in a second. You patted the top of your head, annoyed to find something sticky. 

“I’m fine. I’m sorry. Is the camera okay?” you asked, standing with Crew’s help, keeping one hand on top of your head.

“She’s bleeding,” said Crew, voice rough. 

“I’m really fine,” you said, spinning around, trying to inspect the camera. “Please tell me I didn’t break it.”

A trickle fell on to your forehead, your boss immediately taking your hand, shoving the camera in your hands at the producer. “It’s not that-”

You stopped when you felt more trickles, multiple pairs of hands on you sitting you down. “Medic now!” shouted the director.

“It’s fine,” you said quietly, grateful Crew had his arm wrapped around your back. They were all important people on set. They didn’t have time to deal with this. “I just need to…rinse it off or something.”

“What the hell happened?” said Crew, his hand pulling away only so he could rip his shirt off one handed, balling it up and pressing it against the top of your head. “There’s supposed to be padding under the cameras for this exact reason.”

“We must have-”

“Jesus christ. She has a head injury because you forgot?” said Crew, raising his voice. You turned your gaze to him, his eyes softer when they found yours. “You’re gonna be fine. It’s just a lot of blood.”

“I-”

If it wasn’t apparent when your dad walked back on set, the person either had to be deaf, blind, or all of the above.

The shout he let out made your whole body shake. He was at your side in an instant, his face in horror for only a split second before he was forcing it to be soft and relaxed.

“You’re okay,” he murmured, to the both of you in equal parts you were sure. “You’re okay, honey bun. What happened here?”

“She hit her head because they forgot to put up the fucking padding,” growled Crew, an edge to his voice that made everyone stare at him. Before anyone could respond, the medic arrived, forcing the group away. You winced when they pulled Crew’s shirt from your head, dropping it to the ground and instead handing you a towel from their bag to use. They gave you a quick concussion test that you passed but their face was still neutral.

“It looks like a bad laceration. Head injuries are fairly bloody. She should go to a hospital to be checked out and get her head stitched. I don’t want to do that in the field.” 

“I am not going on a stretcher,” you said, standing, both Crew and your dad’s arms around you. 

“Let’s get going,” said your dad, already moving when the producer cleared his throat nervously. “What?”

“You have a very packed day and this sounds like a minor…” he trailed off when your dad gave him a death glare. “Injury. Of course we can stop and reschedule.”

“Mandy flies out tonight. She’s got that shoot thing tomorrow,” said Crew, nearly tucking you against his side. “I’m done for the day, Jensen. I’ll stay with Y/N the whole time and bring her home later if that’s okay with you.”

You looked up at Crew but his focus was on your father. “Are you okay with Crew staying with you? You tell me you want me there and I’m there.”

“Dad, I’m fine. I don’t need Crew to babysit me,” you said. Your dad crossed his arms and you groaned. “Fine. Crew can stay. Please don’t worry, dad. It’s just a cut.”

“Call me if anything changes,” said your dad.

“I’m literally right here,” you said.

“And you’re stubborn as fuck. Crew,” he said, turning back to his director. “Get me through these scenes as quick as possible.”

“Come on, Y/N,” said Crew, guiding you away, an arm over your shoulders. “Let’s get you feeling better.”

“Hey,” said Crew when you exited the hospital room, heading to the nurses station to get discharged. He stood up from his chair by the wall, a nervous smile on his face. “How’d it go?”

“Just a cut. Only three stitches. It was like the medic said, head injuries can look worse than they are,” you said, signing a few sheets of paper the nurse slid to you.

“You’re all set,” he said.

“Thank you.” You turned, Crew standing beside you. “You really didn’t have to stay.”

“I made Jensen a promise. Not to mention you looked like Carrie for a second,” he said, stroking a piece of stray hair behind your ear. “I’ll give you a ride home.”

You walked in silence, sliding into Crew’s passenger seat without a word spoken between the two of you. He seemed different. No flirt about him. Maybe he really was more shy than you gave him credit for.

“My dad said the funniest thing about you, you know, that you’re a pretty shy, quiet guy. Funny cause that’s not my experience,” you said. Crew chuckled, pulling to a stop at a red light. “So which is it?”

“Oh, I’m definitely an introvert. Absolutely hate attention and fanfare and all that. But you, kid? You make me the good kind of nervous which gives me all the confidence in the fucking world to lay it all on the line.” Your lips parted, Crew smirking out of the corner of his eye at you. “That’s your new nickname by the way. See, honey bun, that seems special to you so I’ll give you that one. But kid? Now that I can tease you with and I know it doesn’t have any sentimental feeling while being classically being one of the most romantic nicknames in all film history ala Casablanca.”

You shook your head, Crew shushing you. “Just go with it, kid.”

“Crew.”

“Kid,” he grinned. You crossed your arms, smiling as you stared out the window. “Don’t be asking me to explain a damn thing about this newfound confidence either. I’ve heard Jensen talking about you enough to know you do not talk to people you’ve just met the way you talk to me. See, that tells me I’m already well on my way to catching you.”

“Pft. You wish.”

“Damn right I do,” he said, the car moving forward again. You shook your head, leaning it against the cool glass window. “You know, I dig chicks with brain injuries.”

“Oh my god. You’re such a guy,” you said. His deep chuckle filled the air, your stomach flipping over and over. “And don’t be thinking just because you gave me a ride and stayed with me or anything this is getting you any closer to anything.”

“Oh, of course not. Women hate when you’re kind to them.” You smacked his bicep, keeping the surprise off your face of how hard that muscle felt under your skin. “I’m going to tell Jensen you beat me up.”

“Wimp,” you teased. He tsked you, shaking his head.

“You don’t know your own strength. I’m just telling you now that you’re going to be opening all the pickle jars in this relationship.” You groaned, Crew laughing to himself as he ran a hand through his gorgeous head of lush brown hair. “You ain’t sick of me yet, kid.”

He pulled onto the highway, tapping his finger lightly against the wheel as he headed towards your house. “Tell me something real about you Crew Foxe and maybe things will start going in your favor.”

“Well, since my attempt at showing kindness and concern so clearly failed,” he laughed, ruffling his hair into a messy floof that you so desperately wanted to touch, “I’ll try a different tactic. Sixteen.”

“Sixteen what?” you said before he was putting a hand over your mouth, shushing you.

“You’ll find out another day,” he said with a big ass grin. “Maybe.”

“Tease,” you said, his hand shooting in front of your chest as he slammed on the brakes. Your seatbelt caught as his forearm pinned you back into your seat, the two of you breathing hard as he’d narrowly avoided a car stopped dead in the middle of the road. “Crew.”

“Yeah?” he said, voice husky. 

“You can let go now.” He pulled his hand away quickly, not saying another word the whole way home.

“I am fine,” you said for the hundredth time that night when your dad and Crew got back from a ride in Baby. 

“I know. Hard headed like your mother,” he said, gently kissing the top of your head. You finished up going through your shots from earlier in the day, surprised to find Crew still around after dinner.

“Y/N,” he murmured, nodding toward the front door. He was still off, an uneasiness to him. You bypassed your dad who’d settled in with the twins on the couch. 

You were expecting Crew to head to his car but instead he walked around the side of the house and down to the back porch. “Jensen said it was okay to sit out here. I…I need to tell you something.”

You settled into your usual spot, Crew taking one close by but out of arm’s reach. He sighed, closing his eyes as it dawned on you.

“You’ve been in a car accident before and you got shook up today. Didn’t you?” you asked. 

“No,” he said with a smile. “No, I’ve never been in an accident. Your parents have really never told you about…?” he trailed off.

“Honestly Crew, my parents take secrets to their grave. You can trust them.” He nodded. “Is that why you took a ride with my dad after dinner?”

“You’re right, I am shook up. And he noticed so we talked and I think I owe it to you to tell the truth. Because you’re right. I’m not the cocky, flirty guy. People think I am because of how I look but honestly, I miss every social cue on earth. I hate parties and press and I’d rather stay at home where I can be myself. You’re just the only girl I’ve flirted with like that cause it feels like a game and you’re in on it so it’s just fun, not so scary.”

“Don’t tell the cocky guy but getting the nickname from Casablanca does give him some brownie points,” you said. Crew’s face was soft, his eyes showing only a hint of sadness in them.

“That’s good because what I tell you, so few people know. They will someday I’m sure but right now, honestly, your parents are my only industry…” he trailed off, closing his eyes. “Just don’t tell anyone, okay?”

You slid closer to him, taking his hand in yours, Crew seemingly grateful for the movement. “Not a soul.” He took a few moments before he inhaled deeply.

“When I was sixteen, in middle of nowhere Kansas, I’d just gotten my license. It was Wednesday night, pizza night in our house cause I had basketball practice and my little brother and sister had soccer and dance so it was very chaotic in the Foxe household. So we always got pizza on the way home. And my dad said I should drive myself to practice and after I’d drive myself to Wally’s pizza for dinner like we did every single Wednesday in the winter to meet up with everyone else.” He started to bounce his knee rapidly, looking out to the dark yard. “They were on the highway and a tractor trailer hit black ice on the other side and it was fine one second and then it wasn’t.”

You put a hand on his knee, Crew exhaling. “Crew.”

“They left early that night because they didn’t pick me up. They were only on the highway right then and there because I wasn’t in the car. I didn’t even know what happened until I was sitting in Wally’s waiting and waiting and I drove home because I knew something was wrong. When a cop showed up and no one else, I knew it was my worst nightmare. So that is why I haven’t said a word to you all night. Because if you got hurt in an accident? One I caused? No, no. I’d be done for. I can’t. I fucking can’t.”

“Crew, Crew,” you said, wrapping your arms around him when he shivered. “Honey, it wasn’t your fault. It was shitty fucking luck. I’m so sorry.”

“I know it wasn’t. Sometimes I have a bad day and it gets to me again. Seeing you get hurt at work and then the car made an otherwise good day really crappy.” He rested his chin on your shoulder, slowly embracing you. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to dump all that on you. You had a bad day too and-”

“Relax,” you murmured, tentatively sliding a hand up to his head, stroking your fingers through his hair. He turned into the touch, an involuntarily happy little sound slipping past his lips. “You’re allowed to have bad days and get scared. You have no idea how nice it is to meet a guy that doesn’t act tough because he thinks he has to.”

“It’s all part of my master plan. Drop all my emotional baggage right up front. Makes the girls go crazy,” he chuckled, tilting his head so he was leaning it against yours. The air was quiet, Crew’s body calming down as you ran your fingers over his scalp. “You don’t have to do that, Y/N.”

“I know.” There was a small laugh, his chest rumbling lightly against yours. 

And just as suddenly, he was pulling away, standing and taking a step back. “What the hell am I doing? I have to go.” 

“Hey!” you said, jogging after him as he tried to walk around the side of the house as fast as humanly possible. You grabbed his arm, spinning him to a stop when he was nearly to the driveway. Hidden in the dark shadows, you could only just make out his face. 

Your cocky bastard looked so embarrassed it made your heart break. “Kid, don’t cry.”

“Then don’t run away from me. You’re supposed to chase me, remember?” He glanced down, eyes fixated on where your hand rested on his wrist. 

“That was until I remembered I’m not a normal guy. I-”

“Look at who my parents are. I was raised by a single dad most of the first decade of my life because my mother wanted nothing to do with either one of us. Do you know the guilt he carries? How he still to this day thinks if he’d done something different she wouldn’t have…” Crew was staring at you, eyes attentive, concerned. “Crew, you’re not the only person around here with a secret. So no, you’re not a normal guy. You’re more attractive than most human beings on the planet. You’re famous and only going to get more famous. Do you have any idea that I might be the one person that can understand that? Growing up in this world? Watching my dad be your age and go through the same exact things? If this doesn’t work, it’s not going to be because you’re not a normal guy. I don’t give a shit about that. I just…fuck Crew, you’re breaking my heart over here. You don’t have to be scared of me.”

He jerked his arm, tugging you right into his chest. When you tilted your head, he was there, pressing his lips to yours, cupping your cheeks, fast and hard, pulling away much too soon. You swallowed and blinked up at him, Crew nodding once.

“You had your chance to get rid of me. Remember that.”

“Who said I’ve let you in?” you said, smiling as he cracked one himself.

“Lying doesn’t suit you, kid.” He grazed his knuckles over your cheekbone, smiling when it made you visibly gasp. “Just my opinion but you were better off with just your dad. You wound up with two good parents that obviously raised a kind young woman.”

“Your parents would be proud of you too Crew. You’re alright.” He chuckled, nodding his head.

“I appreciate that,” he said, still stroking your cheek. “I guess I should go home now before Jensen catches us staring longingly in the dark.”

“Don’t you want to know my secrets?” you asked as he turned to leave. He looked over his shoulder, stepping next to your side.

“Kid, I want to know everything about you.” You’re breath caught, Crew kissing your forehead. “I’ll still gonna catch you. Whatever your secrets are, they don’t scare me, because Y/N Ackles, you are going to be the best thing that ever happened to me.”

He kissed your forehead again, a smile on his lips.

“Goodnight, Y/N. I’ll see you at work.” 

With that he was gone, leaving you standing in the standing in the shadows while your insides were lit up in a way Anthony never had.

_____

A/N: Read Part 3 here!

[mintymonicaa]

The Pool Party (Preview)

Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x Reader (she,her pronouns AFAB) Word Count: 1,688 Summary: A party is thrown in your honor before you move out of state. Leon falls in the misfortune of being your next target. (The full thing will be posted on AO3, for now this is a preview to see how many people are interested in this. It's a slow burn and also the reader is toxic.)

It was your final day here, your last day with your parents. Your father, he decided to give you a final party for you. Since you finished your two years of college, and were soon to move out of state. He invited a lot of his friends over, and one of them stood out to you. He was a bit younger than the rest of your dad's friends but still older than you. No more than 7-10 years older than you. Leon would stare at you occasionally but you noticed that his stares would linger a bit. It wasn't his intention, he was examing everyone in the room, not just you.

You were a depraved young woman, Leon was far more innocent than you unfortunately. He was drinking out of a red cup, a drop of the alcohol fell onto his chin, then it went down to his throat. You stared at him, from across the room. You couldn't help it, it felt like that small drop of alcohol was guiding you, telling you where to look at him exactly. 

Your father came up to you, snapping you from your depraved thoughts. Leon was clueless that you were practically lusting over him , you saw his taller figure move up to you as well. Your father did a quick introduction of the two of you and then left to go to his other friends. Leon was shirtless and you had a better look of him. His nice blue eyes and blonde hair, he had a bit of a stubble on his chin. Looks like he hadn't shaved in a while, maybe a couple of days. 

Leon awkwardly smiled at you and glanced back at your father, he didn't know what to say or how to strike up the conversation. Since Leon was such a social butterfly and an expert at making conversations. He said,

"So...you're graduating soon kiddo?"

Leon said to you in a bit of a sheepish smile, he felt like he was doing great at conversating with you. It was awful, but a part of you was happy. It was really odd to see such a beautiful man have very little social skills. It made you want to play with him a bit, sorta like teasing a cat with cat nip.

"I already graduated" you responded in a neutral tone, it made him fidget with his hands a bit. He felt like he was messing up the conversation.

"Oh! I thought you were in...highschool? My apologies", Leon responded back to you, the final part was a bit more silent. His large chest moved up and down slowly because he exhaled in a bit of frustration. 

"I'm in college...Leon was it?" You responded back, Leon assumed you were younger.

Leon looked a bit embarrassed and mentally gave himself a slap because of that. He didn't mean to insult you, after all, you were the daughter of his good friend. 

"I didn't mean to insult you-" Leon got cut off by you, you placed a finger on his mouth. This shocks him, he looks over your shoulder and he saw that you were alone with him. He backed up a bit, and looked you up and down in confusion. Leon thought you were really pretty but he would never act on any of the thoughts he was having because he found them inappropriate. Something you need to understand from Leon is that he has a heart of gold. Something you need to understand about yourself is that you're evil.

"You know...I noticed you staring at me a lot, Leon"

This catches him off guard, you tilted your head and made full eye contact. He doesn't know what to say, he was staring at you but not because of the reason you thought......was it? No, he would never..

"Was I? I didn't notice....hey? Why don't we go inside? I'm sure everyone has gone inside by now"

There's a silence, it's very awkward. Leon doesn't know what to do, he thinks that you're flirting with him. You are, but he's telling himself that there's no way you would do that. Especially on the first day of his meeting the daughter of one of his work friends. You were 19-20 and Leon was 8 years older than you. He knew that, so he should go inside and try to ignore whatever you were trying to do. Instead, he stayed put, your eyes felt like they were anchoring him down. He stayed silent and waited for you to say something. 

"I wanna go in the pool and play a bit more....join me" You grabbed his hands, they were much larger than yours. They had callouses, and some scars here and there. He was shirtless, so you saw how his chest was going up. You were making him a bit nervous. He doesn't understand how forward you're being but he allowed it. He glanced back at the house behind him, almost as if he was hesitant. 

"Hey don't worry...we're just going to play silly," You said to Leon, your voice teasing him a bit. He let himself be guided by you, well if it's just playing, it's fine right? He thought to himself.

You were wearing a white long sundress, he couldn't make out your figure at all. At most he saw your arms and your neck, your face was really pretty. You slowly stepped inside of the water, still grabbing onto his hands. He followed you inside, and he noticed that when you stepped inside of the water, the dress you were wearing became see through a bit. You ducked inside of the water and he looked around, he saw your figure under the water swim across to the middle. Then you jumped back to the surface and he saw your body. A clear and visible blush formed on his face, he looked away at first and then glanced back slowly as if he was trying to gain permission from you.

"What exactly did you want to do with me?" He asked, he saw your bikini underneath. The folds of the dress completely stick to your body, he would try to only look at your face. Small beads of the pool water stuck in between your eyelashes, your hair sticking to your cheeks and neck. It didn't matter where he looked at you, you looked good. Too good in this moment, you looked so sensual and alluring to him. He was trying his best to keep it together, the cold water barely controlling his hot skin. 

Then you splashed him with the water, your giggles were the only thing he could focus on. They were echoing in his head, when he felt that sudden splash of water. He snapped back to reality and felt more playful, he was beginning to have fun with you.

“Hey! You're gonna pay for that!” He playfully shouted, his muscles were all wet now. He pushed his hair back, it gave him a sleeker look. His mouth began to shift, and he smiled at you. It was a smirk, a playful one. The way he looked made you feel things you knew were wrong and you loved it. You always loved doing these types of things, it was about the thrill. He was a little eye candy to you and you just made him look all the better for you. You blushed.

“Yeah right! As if you can catch me!” You said to him in a taunt. He looked very physically fit, more than capable enough to catch a small thing like you. He just shook his head and smiled at you and gave you a look, a “Oh really?”, type of look. This is good, you’re making him lose his control. A bit more and maybe you’ll get lucky. You were basically pushing his buttons.

“We’ll see about that little lady”, he responded a bit snarky. He licked his lips because he felt a bit adventurous now. You kept swimming away, and when he got too close, you would go under the water and escape from him again. You would splash him a lot, at this point the both of you were soaked. You were planning on stretching out this game of cat and mouse, he was beginning to grow frustrated seeing you escape every time

Once again, you went under the water. You were planning on getting away and teasing him more but Leon has had more than enough of you taunting him. He sees you go under the water and he goes under neath too, he stretches his strong arms out to you and grabs you. Your entire body was locked in place, you couldn't move an inch because of him. In a way, it started to make you throb. If you weren’t in the pool, it would be noticeable how wet you were. 

Both of you were inside of the water, seconds passed by and then you got a bit more bold than him. Sure he grabbed you, he was practically hugging you but you found your way to his lips. You kissed him.

You felt Leon kiss back, it wasn't rough. He was being gentle and he was enjoying how your lips felt, Leon had a moment of realization. He was kissing you and liked it, so he pulled away. He went back up and so did you, both of you swimming above the water and Leon stared at you with a shocked expression. He was even more shocked that he actually kissed you and for a second…he enjoyed it. His heart was pounding, his hands were shaking a bit, and he still felt you on his lips. He furrowed his eyebrows in frustration and backed away. He started to walk out of the pool.

“Hey wait! Leon!” You shouted in confusion. He can’t even look at you because of how intense his desire is at this moment. So he’s doing what he believes is the best option right now, leaving you. Before things get too heated, he shouldn’t have gotten too excited because of one simple peck. It just felt so romantic to him.

Authors Note: First, I want to say that this is going to be a story filled with angst. The reader is aware at how emotionally vulnerable Leon is, how awkward he is and how much of a genuine and sweet person he is. She is going to take advantage of that. This is a very sexual story but just realize that the reader IS evil. So it's going to be very spicy but Leon is gonna be in pain a lot.

[hello-im-not-a-possum]

Shattered Identity

Chapter three: Li(es)ghts, camera, action!

Chapter one. Chapter two.

Fitting the ghost-speak-to-English-translator around his neck, adjusting his face mask, and double checking to make sure he looked presentable enough that they wouldn't call child protective services or the non emergency hotline the second they saw him, Vlad took a deep breath in and rehearsed his regular human cover story.

"I'm Vlad Masters's son and I came to Amity because I got a letter stating that my father was killed under mysterious circumstances and you two seem like people of interest."

No, he shouldn't start with that, felt too accusatory too quickly and could tip Danny off that he does have something of a grudge against his parents, which would mean that he'd lose the boy's trust.

"Hello! I'm Vlad Masters's son and I originally came here because I'm an aspiring crypto-zoologist with an interest in ectobiology, so naturally I figured that the most haunted town on earth had a few colleges with good courses in the subject."

Good, good, it's not perfect yet but it's certainly better than murder accusation. And the Fentons would be more likely to open up to him if they assumed he was fascinated in their field. Now to explain why and how they've never seen him in their lives before, not even as a picture...

"I've been studying abroad for years, mostly in Europe. And Dad? We haven't really seen each other since the divorce, it was a messy and complicated one so he really doesn't like talking about it."

Perfect! But should he go for a fake accent, or just speak normally? Hell, he hasn't even picked out a fake name yet! Ugh! If he kept going on like this and stalling, he'd completely miss his chance!

He took a deep breath in and knocked on the door.

"I'll get it!"

Jack Fenton opened up the door with a friendly grin. "Hello there kiddo, here to report anything ghost... related..?" He trailed off as he noticed that the young adult on his doorstep had a stark resemblance to his old friend.

He looked just like how Vlad did back in college! A little thinner and his hair was sticking up in ways that reminded him of the Wisconsin Ghost, but other than that he was the spitting image!

"Hello Mr. Fenton! My name is Jack Masters and I'm an aspiring Crypto-zoologist with an interest in ectobiology..."

"Jack... Masters..?" the man repeated, his eyes watering with a weak smile.

"Er.. Yes..?"

The teen nervously smiled back despite the smile in question being hidden. Swiss rolls! What did he do?! Why was Jack crying?! ACK!

Jack scooped his Best Friend's son up in a tight bear hug. Despite how distant they've grown and how upset he was after he came out of the hospital, Vlad still loved and respected him so much that he named his own son after him! And despite the white-gray hair, this kid was clearly at least sixteen! Doing the math, that meant that he was born a few years after the portal incident!

"Uh.. Nice to meet you too?" The teenager in the gold, white, and green sweater wheezed while being crushed.

"Oops! Sorry about that." The big Jack put the small Jack down and wiped his eyes while the teen brushed his sweater off. "I guess I got a little too excited..."

"No worries, mind if I come in? I think your family and I have a lot to talk about."

"Of course, J-Kid! Come in! We're about to have breakfast, we'll fix you a plate too."

"Thanks Mr. Fenton!"

"What's with all the commotion?" Jazz asked and froze as she saw the guest.

"Kids! Your cousin Jack Masters dropped by! Isn't that great?"

"Yeah.. Great..." She nervously smiled while her brother held back his laughter behind her. "Hey, can we see him in private before breakfast?"

Before their father could answer, she was already dragging him upstairs and into her room, Danny following close behind.

"Are you okay? Did something happen back at your house that you came to warn us about? Are you suffering side effects from the Ghost Duster and came here for help?"

"Were you panicking when you picked Jack as a fake name or did Dad mishear you when you were getting a bear hug? And of all the things to steal from my parents, why an old lab coat?"

"Tell your homicidal friends that Vlad didn't make it!" The masked teen blurted out instead of answering any of the duo's questions.

"What?!" Both Jazz and Danny gawked in unison.

"Sam and Tucker, tell them either the core was destroyed due to a mishap or that shortly after he reformed, Jack and Maddie gunned him down for good. Either way, I know they want me dead and if they already believe that I am, they won't try to kill me. I may not know the full picture of why I'm being hunted down and treated like the scum of the earth, but I don't want to be destroyed!"

"...Did you catch them breaking into your house when you went home last night and thought that they wanted to kill you in your sleep? Because if so, that wasn't the plan." Danny wrung his hands with a nervous smile.

"...You know what? Forget it, that's not the important take away here." He shook his head. "The important thing is that this" he gestured to his own body. "Cannot be reversed. The only way for me to grow back up that I know of is the natural flow of time. Which means that I need to both fake my own death and fake my own new life."

"Okay, that sounds... reasonable, but what do we have to do with that?"

"You two can't tell anyone else that I'm alive, not even your friends who you might trust but I certainly don't. I know they won't buy that I'm actually my own estranged son which is why my cover story for them is that I'm a clone designed to play 'undertaker'. You know, that I just exist to handle all the chaos that normally would've come up without a death plan in mind as well as destroy all evidence that Vlad has supernatural abilities after his death and may or may not just melt into nothing imminently after the Job's done?"

"...I hate that that's a plausible thing you- Er, past you would do." Danny groaned.

Vlad gave him an unamused look which was easy to read even with the face mask.

"What about our mom?" Jazz raised an eyebrow.

"...What about her? She can't be trusted with the truth or the clone story."

"Not that, I'm curious, do you still have any strong feelings towards her?"

"Yes: Fear. I feel very strong feelings of fear." Vlad nodded. "And other various and hard-to-name emotions too, but those are in the background. If you're worried about me lusting after her then don't. I know that even boiled down to our very essences as people, we're completely incompatible as a couple."

"Oh? Care to elaborate?" Jazz sat next to the bed and gestured for him to lay down on it and gestured for Danny to give them some privacy for Vlad's comfort, which both did. "When did you discover that you and mom are incompatible?"

"I can't really put it down to an exact date or moment, just... It was like a switch was flipped while I was reduced to a core. The need to survive outweighing both ghostly obsession and human delusions. It was like... carrying a backpack full of rocks while trying to scale a cliff, and when I almost lost my grip, I cut off the backpack without even thinking about it. It didn't matter to me if they were the most precious jewels or just dead weight in the moment, I had to..."

"I see... And how exactly would you describe this incompatibility? Romantic, platonic, spiritual..? Or were you so deeply effected by the trauma she inflicted on you that you can't even tell what you used to see in her anymore?"

...He was going to say that while he is willing to forgive her for her part to play in the portal incident, her abandoning him to rot alone in the hospital while marrying his best friend, robbing him a few times, several attempted dissections, and many more things, he still had standards and self-respect and would never in a million years date a Viking's fan. But he also felt that if he did say that out loud to her, she'd think his priorities were completely stupid.

"Y-yeah, both the trauma and the romantic thing... Looking back with a new perspective and going off of what I remember about us, if by some means we genuinely got together, we would bring out the worst in each other and I think that it would be an exhausting power struggle where if one of us won, the other would be trapped in a miserable metaphorical cage and if it was us as equals against a shared enemy, say, the ghost zone, we would be genocidal tyrants of likes the universe had never seen before."

"...Okay... And how come you and her worked out as friends then?"

"In hindsight, Jack was the glue that healthily held us together-"

"Wait, you don't wanna kill my dad anymore?"

"Well out of everyone who intentionally tried to kill me that I know of, he's been the most friendly and considerate, so no? Not really." He shrugged

"That's great! Er, not the almost dying thing but..."

"Kids! Breakfast!" Maddie called up the stairs. "Better hurry and get it before the bus comes!"

"Okay, while we didn't the chance to dig too deep I think we made some good progress on figuring out what you're working with. Wanna do this again next week?"

"I'll think about it..." Vlad got off of the bed. "I mean, the next few weeks are going to be insanely busy for me with all the paperwork."

The two went downstairs and sat at the table, where the Fenton Family ate while Vlad just picked at his food as he didn't want to take off the mask.

Maddie took notice of the older teen's lack of appetite as well as a few other red flags about him.

The son of one of the most talked about billionaires in the world, and there's never even been so much of a peep by media about him? She wasn't denying his paternity, it would be extremely difficult to prove that the teen wasn't his son. (He was practically the spitting image of his younger self from what she could see of his uncovered face) but how and why did Vlad manage to keep the boy out of public eye for so long? Not even a single family picture anywhere in the house? Vlad never even talking about him once?

And that's not even touching on the mysterious teen's physical state; He was frail, had dark circles under his eyes, he was shaking like a chihuahua, and call it a mother's intuition, but the way his clothes and mask were, it... it seemed like he was strategically covering up injuries...

Oh god... did he name his kid "Jack" because he was using him as punching bag to let his anger out..? She tolerated so much of Vlad's... peculiarities for her husband's sake, but so help her, she will maul that man like a feral bear if he's been abusing his own son over his petty grudge against her husband!

"So J-Kid, tell us about yourself." Her husband gave the guest a warm smile. "What got you interested in Crypto-zoology?"

"Mostly morbid curiosity. I grew up hearing about sightings of strange creatures, both alien and terrestrial and I wanted to know more about them. What evolutionary niches are they supposed to fill? How intelligent are they? Are they sentient and sapient? And regarding my interest in ectobiology, with the existence of ghosts being proven real, how many of the cryptids on earth are living, breathing creatures that we know very little of and how many are ghosts of the entities they once were? ...I figured if I could tell the difference between ghost biology and living entity biology, it would come in handy with some of my questions."

"Well if you're up for an internship here, we'd be more than happy to teach you everything we know about ghost biology!" Jack beamed.

"Thank you for the offer Mr. Fenton, I'll think about it while settling in to town."

"And do you have a place to stay? ...Specifically, a place you feel safe staying at?" Maddie inquired.

"Yes, don't worry, I plan on staying with Vladimir. It's going to be my first time meeting him since the divorce so I'm both nervous about it and excited."

"The divorce..?" She repeated, surprised, but not sure what she should be surprised about. Maybe the fact Vlad got married in the first place?

"Yes, from what I can tell about it it was really messy and mom was pretty spiteful about it, not giving an inch while taking miles, refusing to let him see me, spreading bad rumors... I'm not surprised he never really told anyone about me, I bet he didn't want to talk about the whole thing. It kinda feels weird calling a man I've never met my dad though..."

Okay, so whatever the kid's been through wasn't directly caused by Vlad... He's safe from her mama bear wrath for now.

"Well I'm sure you two will get along just fine, why, you and V-Man even have the same favorite football team! Sure moving's always hard to adjust to, but you have nothing to worry about regarding your old man, okay?"

"Got it, thanks Mr. Fenton. And thanks for the breakfast" Vlad weakly smiled.

"Oh? Going so soon?"

"Yeah, sorry, but boxes aren't going to unpack themselves and I really just came to let you two know I'm in the neighborhood before you get caught off guard."

"Well feel free to visit again any time, J-Kid!" Jack gave him a firm handshake. "Our home is your home too."

"And mine is yours." the teen smiled back.

---

"-So let me get this straight. He's dead? As in, dead dead?" Tucker almost couldn't believe his ears.

"Yeah, as it turns out, while I was trying to take him to Frostbite, he didn't survive the trip..." Danny scratched the back of his head. Not comfortable with lying directly to his two best friends but it wasn't like paranoid amnesiac had an unreasonable request considering that all he knew about them right now was that they tried to kill him. "His core fell apart while we were trying to figure out what happened to him.."

"Dang..." Tucker leaned against the bus stop. "I mean, I never liked the guy... but really? That's how the cookie crumbled instead of some epic final battle?"

"Are you sure? It feels too... convenient." Sam spoke up. "He just falls apart and that's it? He's done and dealt with?"

"Do you want him to come back..?"

"No! But just.. I think we should keep our guards up. He could be faking it so he can go lick his wounds somewhere before ambushing us."

"I... don't think it's possible to fake having a core fall apart." Danny frowned.

"I'm less worried about him somehow surviving being completely destroyed and more worried about who or what will raid Vlad's mansions for weapons and money to use against us." Tucker shook his head. "Just imagine Skulker with the Plasmius Maximus incorporated into his arsenal."

"So he'd disable his own powers?" He snorted in amusement.

"Okay, bad example..."

"Anyway, I don't think we should be too worried about what happens to his stuff, Vlad made a clone of himself specifically to handle it. I've met him and he's not too bad."

"HE HAS A CLONE OF HIMSELF?!" Both Tucker and Sam gawked in unison.

"...Yeah? But don't worry, he's not evil, just skittish."

"How do you know this..?" Sam shook her head in exasperation.

"He showed up on the doorstep and Dad let him in to have breakfast."

"Huh... Does Dani know she has a big brother?"

"...Or a little brother depending on how long he's been out of the tube?"

"Good question... I guess I'll ask him the next time we see each other."

[loverrrgirl]

KISMET- Austin Butler x reader - PART 11

Warnings: we’re starting to get spicy so minors, it’s nothing much yet but you should exit the premises. The chapter after this one has me swooning and the next two chapters I have planned also having me throwing up.

I’ve never made a fic before so send me tips and tricks and loves!

Here’s a masterlist

What do you think is gonna happen next?

I marched right back up to the 8th floor. Walking quickly to my dad's room only to find mom wasn't in there. "Hey kiddo." I heard dad say. "Oh hey dad! Have you seen mom?" I asked as I was already turning around to look in to Jude's room. "I'm not sure where she went. She did tell me a boy stopped by here for you though" he said inquisitively. I blushed. "Yes that's exactly what I need to talk to her about. WHAT DID SHE SAY?" I asked, definitely sounding way too excited and verging the line of desperate. Calm down girl. Calm down.

"Oh hey Stella." I heard form behind me. "A really cute boy stopped by for you. You actually just missed him." She teased. She was enjoying this. Getting to be front and center for all of my life events. Although we kept up and talked every other day while I was in New York, I wasn't dating anyone. So she's been missing the boy stories since college.

"Okay what did he say?" I asked eagerly.

"Oh he just said he was hoping you'd be here. He's gonna come back tomorrow. He was actually very polite. How do you know him?" She raised an eyebrow at me.

Of course he was. Have you met him?

"We met on the plane on the way here. He dropped me off here instead of me taking an Uber. I guess I left my sweater in his car and he wanted to make sure I got it back." I said, staring off in to the distance. I could feel the butterflies starting up just thinking about it.

After not too long, the doctors came in and told us that as long as dad and Jude were able to get around on their own by the end of the next 7 days, they'd be able to head home. I went down to the cafeteria to order us some celebratory ice cream. Things felt good for the first time in nearly a week. We all had a feeling of hope that we didn't have before.

The next morning, both mom and dad suggested that I just go home and hold down the fort while they finished up their hospital stay. Not to say I couldn't come visit. But they were suggesting that I meet up with some friends, relax, sleep in a real bed while I could since I wouldn't be staying that much longer now that they were on the mend.

I forgot that I needed to text Austin the address. I pulled out my phone and shakily typed his phone number in.

What do I say? Do I just play it cool and only text him the address? Do I say "hi I've been thinking about you nonstop since I saw you last" ??? Of course not. But I was thinking it.

Once his number was saved in to my phone as Aus so that no one passing by would ever see his full name in my phone and ask about it, I started typing the message.

"Hey you. (: it's Stella. Here's the address: 78654 Melody Lane. See you at 6!" I typed and quickly pressed send before I could over think it.

I think I'll throw right up. This is crazy.

The whole drive home was a blur. I hardly remember driving at all. It was almost 1pm and that meant I had 5 hours to get ready. Surely I didn't need that amount of time but I was going to use all of it anyways.

I started with a shower, making sure every single hair was shaved off my legs. Yep. The top halves of them too. Just in case. I scrubbed, I exfoliated, I did my most thorough skin care routine. I got out of the shower and moisturized my whole body.

I liked to wait until my hair was half way dry to blow dry it the rest of the way. I got my hair in rollers to set and then started on my makeup. I wasn't even sure where he was taking me so I figured a soft glam look would be a safe bet.

It was nearly 4:30 at this point and I heard the doorbell ring.

He said 6. That can't be him. Who the hell is ringing the bell?

I walked slowly out of my room, down the stairs, and towards the front door. I pulled my robe closed and tied it in the name of decency in case it was someone selling Girl Scout cookies or something. The bell rang again.

Jesus. I'm coming. Be patient.

I opened the door to find a man in a nice pair of jeans and button up shirt. He was holding a white box. It was secured closed with a large silky gold ribbon. "Stella Porter?" He inquired. "Uh. Yes? That's me." He handed me the box and walked away promptly.

This feels like a trap and I'm probably about to be fucking kidnapped. That would be just my luck right before going out to dinner with Austin. It's just the way the cookie crumbles for me I guess. If this is how I go, this is how I go.

I walked back up the stairs, turning the box over and checking it out to see if there was a tag anywhere. There wasn't. I got to my room and tossed it on the bed, bracing for the possibility that it would probably explode when I did that. It didn't.

Phew. Just open the box Stella.

I untied the gold bow, slowly. Savoring the moment before the surprise just in case it was someone's dismembered finger or something. It would have been an awfully large box for a finger I suppose. I removed the ribbon and pulled the lid off. There was a handwritten note on top of pearlescent white tissue paper. It said "I can't wait to see you in this dress tonight. See you soon."

I set the note down and opened up the tissue paper slowly. It was a dress. I pulled it out to reveal it was a black silk dress. The slit up the leg was high and the neckline was low. But not too low. A classic silhouette.

I walked over to the mirror and held it up to my body, imagining what I'll look like in it. What he'd think of me in it. I started feeling those butterflies again. I laid the dress out on the bed so I could finish getting ready.

I put the finishing touches on my make up, unrolled my hair and styled it. I thought I looked pretty damn cute. Austin better think that too.

I glanced at the clock. 5:30pm. I better get dressed. Once again I held the dress up to my body in front of the mirror. I dropped my robe and put on some black lace underwear, then I slipped the dress over my body.

It fit my body perfectly. It was tight in the right places, loosened just enough in others.

How could he have known what size dress to send me? He's incredible.

I did a little spin in front of the mirror. Shit. My underwear lines were visible. This fabric showed everything. I slipped my underwear off from underneath the dress. I guess it's just the kind of dress you don't wear undergarments with. And I smirked a little wondering what Austin would have to say if he knew.

I remembered I had this pair of strappy black heels. They would look perfect with this dress.

*ding dong* the doorbell went off.

Shit.

I tapped my phone. 6:00 on the dot. Of course he is here right when he said he'd be.

I threw on my shoes and nearly ran to the door to meet him.

I pulled the door open and he was all dressed up. Black suit pants with a black button up shirt. He left the first few buttons undone. And I wanted to undo the rest of them right here, right now. The butterflies in my stomach turned to fire.

"Wow. Stella. You look incredible." He held out his hand to me. "Are you ready?"

The dress ⬇️

Austin's Point of View

Right after I left the hospital I went out shopping for an outfit I thought she'd love to see me in. I walked by a store and saw a black dress on display in the window. The slit was just high enough on the thigh. It would let you imagine but also leave you desperate to see the rest. The neckline was set perfectly. Not too low cut and not too high cut that it clashed with the silhouette and height of that slit. So I B-lined directly in to the store. I couldn't stop thinking about how Stella would look in that dress. And I needed to see her in it. I held up every size dress until I found the one that I thought fit her frame well. And I prayed it would fit her just right. This was risky.

I wasn't sure how she'd take it. Me, dressing her for the night. And I wouldn't typically do this on a first date. But everything was tunnel vision now that I'd imagined her wearing that dress.

I asked the cashier to gift wrap it for me, hoping I wouldn't have to re-wrap it when I got home. She finished tying the bow and it was gorgeously wrapped. I wondered if Stella's eyes would light up at the gift or if she'd sit there confused but I didn't care in this moment.

Just then, I got a text from a number I didn't know.

Please be Stella.

It was Stella sending her address. I waited all night for her to text it to me. I didn't like being made to wait. But I knew she was preoccupied at the hospital so it would have to do.

Later in the day I sent my driver to her house to deliver the dress. He had never done anything like that for me before and I was thankful he didn't ask questions.

Once I got home, I took a shower and looked through my wardrobe. I because so occupied with getting that little black dress to Stella that I didn't even bother going in to any other stores. I decided on classic black suit pants and a black button up. I left the top three buttons undone and added a thin gold chain to my neck. I slipped my rings back on my fingers and grabbed my favorite pair of black dress shoes.

I grabbed the Volvo keys and headed out.

God I can't wait to see her again.

I sat the whole drive in silence. I deciding between being nervous or excited. I landed on both. I really hoped she liked the dress and that it fit her well. I couldn't imagine anything fitting her poorly.

As I was pulling up to her house I noticed it was 5:58. Cutting it close Aus.

I gathered myself and walked up to her front door.

Do I ring the bell? Do I knock?

I decided on the bell so she could hear me if she was upstairs. It took all of about 45 second for her to get to the door.

Stella opened the door to reveal that she had the dress on.

"Hi" she said to me, eyes sparkling as she suddenly looked down. She was nervous too.

She looked immaculate. The dress fit the curve f her hips just right. The thigh slit hit the exact spot I'd hoped it would. And boy was I imagining more. Craving more. The neck line lay across her chest perfectly. Just low enough to show the start of cleavage but high enough that she wasn't exposed too much. I didn't want anyone looking at her like in that way. I could take her with me anywhere in this dress. The way the thin straps hit her collar bones. The way her light brown curls cascaded down her back teasing the low cut back of the dress.

"Wow. Stella. You look incredible." I finally said, hoping she didn't think I was speechless for too long. I held my hand out to her. "Are you ready?"

She took my hand and I led her to my car. I opened the door to help her in. The fabric of that dress showed everything. And as she stepped in front of me and turned her body to enter the car, I noticed I didn't see any panty lines.

Surely, she wouldn't go pantyless on a first date, would she? God damn.

[fatecantstopme]

Heyy,

I wanted to asked if you could write a “part two” to -Aged to Perfection- where Bucky or reader or both (idk) tell her parents that they are dating, her father is very mad and tries to “attack” Bucky or something?

The end could be a smut, if you want😉😂

Byee

AS REQUESTED! Hope you like it :)

My Forever

Part 2 of Aged to Perfection (read part one here)

Pairing: dbf!Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Your dad finds out you and Bucky are together and he loses his mind. His instinct is to go after Bucky and "defend your honor", but you intervene.

Warnings: Fighting, cursing, pet names, angst, little fluff, a little bit of smutty smut.

"Doll, we're gonna be late!" Bucky called up the stairs.

"I'm coming!" you yell back. You take one last look in the mirror at your summer dress. You decide it's as good as it's gonna get, so you slip on your sandals and make your way downstairs.

Bucky looks up when he hears you and lets out a low whistle. "Damn. If we weren't already running behind, I'd drag you back upstairs."

You laugh lightly and place a soft kiss to his lips. His hands wrap around your waist and tug you in close. He deepens the kiss and tries to hold you in place, but you squirm away. "Bucky! You're the one that said we're gonna be late."

He groaned. "But you're so pretty in that little dress."

He tried to pull you back in and you gave him a light smack. He chuckled and reached for your hand. "Time to go, sweets."

You straightened your dress and felt your nerves start to bubble up again.

"Hey," he said gently. "We don't have to go."

"It's my parents' annual summer party. It would be really strange if their only child and dad's best friend didn't show up."

"I know," he said softly. "But I can tell you're nervous."

"What if he flips out?" You whisper.

"Then we'll deal with it." He tucked a hair behind your ear. "Don't worry about it right now, okay? Let's just go and enjoy ourselves."

You nod and he gives you a gentle kiss on your forehead. "I'm not going anywhere, (Y/N). No matter what happens."

His words warmed your heart and calmed your nerves. You shot him a genuine smile and he returned the expression. "I love you, Bucky."

He smiled. "Not nearly as much as I love you, doll."

***********

The drive to your parents' house was shorter than you would have liked. Thankfully, Bucky drove, which let you focus on trying to relax. Bucky pulled into the driveway and turned off the car. He reached across and squeezed your hand. "Ready, sweets?"

You nodded. "I'm ready. Let's do this before I lose my nerve."

You both got out of the car and Bucky took your hand. You took a deep breath and let him guide you to the front door of your childhood home. Bucky dropped your hand to open the door for you, stepping back to allow you to walk ahead of him. He desperately wanted to take your hand again, but he knew he couldn't.

The two of you made your way into the house towards the back yard. When you reached the sliding glass door, you heard your dad yell, "There you are!"

He came over to give you a hug. "Hey, dad."

"How you doin' kiddo?" He turned to Bucky. "Hey, Buck, good to see you."

"Always good to see you, man."

The two of you followed your dad into the yard and you said your hellos to your mom, other family members, and close friends. You and Bucky got separated; he was sucked into a conversation with one of your cousins who was heavily flirting with him. You were dragged across the yard by your mother who wanted to introduce you to one of her friend's sons.

You weren't at all interested in the conversation or your mother's obvious attempts to set you up with this guy, but you pasted a smile on your face that you hoped conveyed interest.

"(Y/N) has been single since she graduated college a year ago," your mother said.

"Mom! He doesn't need to know that." Besides I'm most definitely not single.

"Well, I'm just saying sweetie. You're not getting any younger."

You sighed. "I'm going to go grab a beer and see what dad's up to. Nice to meet you." You bolted from the conversation as quickly as you could without making it awkward...or more awkward, anyway.

You grabbed a beer out of the cooler and heard a soft voice behind you. "Fancy meeting you here."

You grinned and turned to face Bucky. "Save me from my mother," you whispered.

He chuckled. "What's she up to now?"

"Trying to set me up with every one of her friend's single sons."

He laughed louder. "What did you say?"

You leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, "I told her I was banging dad's best friend."

He laughed again. "You're terrible."

"You love me," you said with a grin.

"So damn much," he said. He wanted so desperately to kiss you, but he knew he couldn't in front of everyone.

"You okay?" you asked, noticing his expression.

"Just dying to kiss you," he murmured. He played with the beer bottle in his hands to keep them busy so he wouldn't touch you.

"I have an idea." You gestured to the house with a nod of your head. You turned and made your way inside, Bucky following after you.

You made your way to the back hallway that led to your childhood bedroom.

"Where we going, doll?"

You stopped halfway down the hall. "Somewhere a little more private," you said with a wink.

Bucky looked back down the hall where you'd come from. "You're killing me, sweets," he murmured.

"No one's around, Buck." You reached for him and he took a step towards you.

He pressed you up against the wall and kissed you softly. You pulled him closer and slipped your hands into his hair and deepened the kiss. He braced himself with his metal arm against the wall. Bucky let out a soft moan against your lips and you responded in kind.

"What the hell is going on here?"

You gasped and Bucky's body tensed as he pulled away from you. He slowly turned around to face the newcomer. When he turned around, it allowed you a full view of your dad's face. You'd heard the anger in his voice when he'd spoken, but you couldn't have imagined the rage on his face.

Bucky instinctively blocked your body with his own, shielding you from harm. Not that your dad would ever hurt you, but you'd also never seen him this angry.

Bucky opened his mouth to speak, but your dad punched him directly in the face without any warning. You gasped in surprise and Bucky took a step back. Your dad went to hit him again, but Bucky moved out of the way, taking you with him.

"You son of a bitch!" your dad yelled.

"Steve, just hold on a minute," Bucky started.

"Hold on? Hold on?" your dad's voice raised with each word he spoke. "You're making out with my 24-year-old daughter, you bastard!" He took another swing at Bucky, but he ducked to avoid it.

Bucky had pushed you into the open bathroom and out of the line of fire, which gave you time to wrap your head around what just happened.

"Steve, please. Just let me explain."

"There's nothing to explain! How long has this been going on, huh? You fucking her too?"

"Steve!" your mother yelled as she entered the hallway. "What is going on?"

You poked your head out of the bathroom to see Bucky essentially pinned against the wall, your dad directly in front of him, and your mom and several other people crowding into the end of the hall.

"He's fucking our daughter!" your dad yelled.

Your mother paled and took a step back. "What?"

"I walked in on him kissing (Y/N)," your dad responded as he threw another punch.

Bucky once again blocked it. "I'm not going to fight you, Steve."

"The hell you're not!"

Your mom started to yell at Bucky and a couple older family members did as well.

You closed your eyes and tried to shut out the shouting. "Stop!" you yelled, but no one listened. You stepped into the hall and wedged yourself between your dad and Bucky. "Stop!"

Your dad looked surprised and took a step back. Everyone else went silent and watched you closely. "(Y/N), get out of the way," your dad said.

"No."

"(Y/N/N)," Bucky began.

"No. Everyone shut up and listen to me."

Your dad's eyes widened, but he remained silent.

"I'm not a child. I'm not being taken advantage of. Every single decision I have made, I have made without any pressure."

"But he's--" your dad interrupted.

"No. I said listen. You can talk when I'm done." You sighed. "Look, I understand this isn't conventional and you're bound to have certain feelings and opinions about it, but this is my life, not yours. This isn't just some fling. We're together, dad. I love him."

Your dad opened his mouth to respond, but Bucky cut him off. "It's not just her, Steve. This is real for me too. I know you might not understand, but I love her with everything I have."

You turned your head to look at Bucky and offered him a small smile. "We've been together for a year," you said as you turned back to your dad. "This wasn't just a heated moment. We were actually planning on talking to you and mom after the party."

Your dad's breathing had begun to slow to a more normal rate while you spoke. You could tell he was still angry, but he was listening to what you said. "(Y/N), he's 15 years older than you."

"Mom is 10 years older than you. Is 5 years really that different or is it just okay because she's a woman?"

Surprise lit up your dad's face. "That's different."

"No, it's not. I'm old enough to make my own decisions. I know you see me as your little girl and you always will, but I'm not a child, dad. I know this scares you, but you can't control my life."

Your dad started to speak again, but much to your surprise, your mom interrupted him. "She's right, Steve."

He turned to your mom in surprise. "What?"

She shrugged. "I'm a little confused too, honey, and I wish (Y/N) had come to us sooner, but she's right. This is her life and she's an adult who can make her own decisions. We raised her well, Steve. She has the same morals and values that we do and she's a good girl. She'll always be our baby girl, but she's grown now. We can't hold her back."

You looked at your mother in shock. Bucky touched your back and you turned to look at him. His eyes were filled with nothing but love and it warmed your heart. This isn't the way you wanted your parents to find out, but it didn't change anything for you. You loved him more than anything.

"Besides," your mom continued. "Look at them. It's obvious that they love each other. We were just too blind to notice until now."

Your dad looked between you and Bucky before letting out a deep sigh. "You're my best friend, Buck, and I love you, but you have to understand how hard this is for me."

Bucky nodded. "I do. This isn't how we wanted to tell you."

Your dad sighed again. "It's going to take me time to be okay with this, but I know you're a good man. One of the best, in fact. But I swear to God, if you hurt my daughter, I will kill you."

"Dad!"

"I know," Bucky said at the same time. He looked down at you and smiled. "I would rather die than hurt her."

You matched his smile and squeezed his hand.

"Well this is definitely the most interesting summer bash y'all have ever thrown," one of your cousins said.

Everyone let out a grateful laugh. You walked over to your mom and gave her a tight hug. "Thank you," you whispered.

"You don't have to thank me, sweetie. I had a feeling you were seeing someone. That's why I kept trying to set you up with people...I wanted you to tell me."

Surprise graced your pretty features. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything, mom."

"It's alright, (Y/N). Your dad was afraid to tell his parents when we started dating. Don't you worry, I'll keep working on him."

You nodded and gave your mom another hug. You turned to see your dad and Bucky shaking hands and your body relaxed. Your dad made eye contact with you, so you made your way over to him.

Your dad wrapped you in a hug and you squeezed him back. "I'm sorry, kiddo."

"It's alright, dad. I'm sorry you found out this way."

"It's gonna take me some time..."

You took a step back and gave him a small smile. "I know. I understand."

"Okay y'all," your dad said to the onlookers. "Let's get back outside and finish this shindig!"

Everyone made their way outside, including your parents and you and Bucky. The party continued as though nothing had happened, but the dynamic between you and Bucky had changed. He was much more affectionate and touchy than he'd ever been in public before. It made you so happy. You'd hated hiding your relationship and you were proud to show off your man.

Bucky appeared beside you with a drink for you. "Hey, sweets, where's that pretty head of yours at?"

"Just thinking about how much I adore you."

He chuckled. "Really? Is that all?"

You laughed. "You're a dork." You leaned back against his body. "I'm glad they know, though."

"Me too, doll. I hated keeping it from them, but I also hated the idea of giving you up. I'm never gonna give you up," he whispered in your ear.

"Never gonna let me down?"

He laughed loudly. "Did you just Rick-roll me? Now who's the dork?"

You grinned. "You opened the door, James Barnes. What did you expect?" You felt his body tense against your back. "You okay, babe?" you asked softly.

"I think it's best if you don't call me 'James' in front of your parents," he murmured.

"Why?" You had a good idea why, but you really wanted to hear him say it.

"Because I might not be able to resist fucking you senseless," he growled.

You groaned softly. "We are definitely leaving early."

He grinned and pressed his lips to your neck. "Right now?"

You laughed and stepped away, earning a groan of annoyance from Bucky. "We have to stay for dinner, then we can escape."

"Doll, if you make me wait too long, you know what'll happen."

You grinned. "That's why I'm making you wait." You shot him a wink before backing away and joining the people sitting at the table.

"You're gonna be the death of me," he groaned as he followed you to the table, taking a seat beside you with a sigh.

"Be a good boy and I'll give you a reward," you whispered.

His eyes widened and he leaned towards you. "Promise?"

You smiled. "Promise."

**********

"Fuck," Bucky groaned.

You smiled to yourself, mouth wrapped around his throbbing cock. You continued to suck his cock, each motion eliciting a moan from Bucky.

"Shit, doll, I'm close."

You sped up your movements, earning a cry of pleasure from Bucky as he came in your mouth. You swallowed every drop and licked your lips when you'd finished. "So was your patience worth it?"

He chuckled breathlessly. "So worth it." He smiled at you and reached towards you. You allowed him to pull you into him, placing kisses to his face and neck as he caught his breath. "I think the real question is, was your patience worth it?"

You barely had time to register his words before you found yourself laying face up on your back, Bucky hovering over you with a grin on his face. "James," you said with a giggle.

He groaned. "Don't do that unless you want me to fuck you into next week."

You ran your hands down his bare chest, admiring his perfect form. "Is that a promise, James?" you murmured.

Bucky stared at you with dark eyes. He gripped your hips and thrust his already hardened cock into you in one swift movement.

You cried out and dug your nails into his shoulders. "Bucky!"

He smiled wolfishly. "I warned you pretty girl."

You matched his expression. "I can still feel my legs, so --"

Bucky cut off your snark with a deep thrust. "What was that, doll?" He continued pumping into you, each motion giving you pleasure.

"James, please."

He groaned and sped up, effectively fucking you into the mattress. You dug your nails into him and moaned loudly. You felt the rubber band tightening in your lower belly and you held onto Bucky as he fucked you. "Please don't stop."

"Never," he growled in your ear.

You came without warning, pussy fluttering around his cock. Bucky helped you ride out your high before flipping you onto your stomach. He slid his arm under your lower body, lifting you up so your ass was in the air. He slid back into your pussy and you moaned loudly.

He gave your ass a harsh smack with his right hand, soothing it with his left. He pumped fast and deep, each thrust of his cock hit your sweet spot, sending waves of pleasure through your body. Before you'd even come down from the previous orgasm, you felt another one overwhelm you.

Bucky held your hips in place as he continued fucking you. He slid his hand around to rub your clit gently, making your body shake in pleasure. "Can you give me one more, sweets?"

"It's too much, Bucky," you whimpered.

"Come on, baby, just one more."

You could already feel the pleasure building so you whispered softly "Don't stop, Buck."

He grinned and kept thrusting into you. His nimble fingers worked your clit and your body was shaking in pleasure. Moments later, you came around his cock. He moaned loudly and his thrusts began to falter. "Fuck, (Y/N/N). This pussy is so perfect. Feels so good."

You responded with a moan, which was all you could manage.

Moments later, he came inside of you with a cry of your name. He slowed his movements before pulling out and collapsing beside you. You collapsed onto your stomach, body completely sated.

"Hey doll?"

"Hmm?" you grumbled.

"Can you feel your legs?"

You laughed lightly. "No comment."

He grinned. "Come here, doll. I wanna hold you."

"I think you might have to move me."

He laughed, but you didn't move. "Wait, you're serious?"

"Roll me over or leave me be," you mumbled.

He chuckled and gently rolled you over and pulled you into his side. "How bout we lay here for a little bit, then we go take a nice hot bath?"

You moaned softly and nuzzled your head into his chest. "Sounds perfect."

He smiled and kissed the top of your head. "You're perfect."

[frankenhookersmonster]

ʟᴏᴠᴇʙᴜɢ - ᴏɴᴇ, "ʀɪɢʜᴛ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴᴇ"

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ - 18+, ᴅᴀᴅꜱʙᴇꜱᴛꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ!ꜰʀᴀɴᴋ, ᴀɢᴇ ɢᴀᴘ (ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ 22, ꜰʀᴀɴᴋ ɪꜱ 40-45ɪꜱʜ), ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛᴜᴀʟ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴏɴᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ, ʟᴇᴍᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪꜰ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪꜱ ᴍɪꜱꜱɪɴɢ :)

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ - 934

ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

The summer between school years was supposed to be relaxing. A full nine or so months of school work, all pay off for a few days by the water soaking in sun, a hike through the wilderness, or sleeping in at the very least. But now here you were, moving dusty boxes from the basement and garage to the attic. Why you needed to do this? Your father had simply shrugged, mumbling about late spring cleaning. So now you were spending the warmest day of May wrestling cardboard full of useless shit no one’s touched in years while everyone and their mother flocked to the beach, lake or pool. 

You ungracefully dropped a box onto the wooden planks of the attic, wiping your forehead of sweat. The air was thick, you felt like you were swimming. 

Isn’t that just great, it’s almost like a beach day.

Sighing, you put your hands on your hips and made your way to the ladder. The halls of your house still looked the same way they did when you were small. Your mom had kept up with the decor of the house, so since she split it was perpetually stuck in 2009. You didn’t judge your mom for leaving, you were young and still saw her over school vacations and long weekends. She was happier without your dad, which you understood, though you had always preferred your dad even before their divorce. There wasn’t any rhyme or reason to it, you had always been a daddy’s girl. 

Once your mom had moved away, your dad really became your go to. Sat through conferences, math team meets, any other extracurricular you had picked up. He took you driving around empty parking lots, bought you your first box of pads, helped you apply to colleges and kept you as out of debt as best he could. He was a good dad. 

You had made your way into the kitchen and filled a glass of water, chugging it down so fast you couldn’t breath. Looking out the window, you saw your dad’s truck was missing from the driveway. “Son of a bitch…” you muttered, filling your glass and gulping it down again. How dare he leave you to deal with his project turn mess all alone? You set down your cup a little harder than you had intended, stretching your arms over your head before throwing the door to the garage open. 

Suddenly, a crash, followed by mumbled cursing. Confused, you slowly moved down the two steps into the garage. 

Frank Castle, standing over a capsized box of old pots and pans. A hand ran fingers through his hair while the other rubbed his stomach. 

“Jesus kiddo you can’t go sneakin’ up on a man like that.” He licked his lips and chuckled. You crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Didn’t mean to spook you. I didn’t see my dad's truck and I thought someone broke in.” That really made him laugh. 

“Well then, you better work on those sneakin’ skills. If someone broke in, bam!” He raised his finger guns to your head. “You’re dead.”

Frank had lived next door since you were twelve. It was right after his own divorce, while your dad was going on year three of single life. The two grew inseparable, they spent nights at the bar playing pool for hours, weekend long camping trips, and most commonly Sunday football. The two would sit in front of the tv in your living room, nursing beers and yelling at the top of their lungs every week through the fall and winter. You weren’t home often on Sundays, most of the time you were working or busy with a school club. 

All to say, you didn’t interact with Frank too often apart from a quick greeting at the fence between your houses or a nod as you headed upstairs to your room. Your dad wasn’t super hands on with your friends, he didn’t attempt to insert himself, so you didn’t either. You were just happy he was talking to someone that wasn’t you, not that you didn’t want to talk to him, but even you knew he was better off making friends with someone his own age rather than his teenage daughter. 

“Your dad just ran to donate some of the stuff from the basement. He’ll be back soon.” Frank smiled quickly before bending over to pick up the box. Even from your limited interactions, you knew Frank wasn’t much of a talker. He liked to watch, furrowed brows and all. He brushed past you with a grunt, presumably bringing the box to the attic. 

“You uh… you stayin’ all summer? With your dad?” he asked, though he couldn’t meet your eyes, instead staring at the door frame. 

“Yeah, I might go see my mom at some point but other than that I’m here ‘till the fall.” He then made eye contact, licking his lips. 

He licked his fucking lips.

Frank nodded, turning slowly and heading back on his way. You backed up into your dad's tool desk, hopping up to sit on it. Did people just lick their lips like that? Unprompted? Was it hot, sure, a little bit. Just because you thought it was attractive didn’t mean anything. Any man could lick their lips and make eye contact and it could give you butterflies. Combined with the fact that Frank was undoubtedly conventionally attractive, a little standoffish and you hadn’t had sex in almost six months made you question your own motives. 

You shook your head, stood up, and got back moving those damn boxes.

a/n - i hope y’all likey :) pls reblog helps motivate me to keep writing muah much love xx

[avintagekiss24]

one cup sugar, one cup spice | a. barber

→ pairing: andy barber x black!reader

→ word count: 7074

→ warnings: age gap, corruption kink, innocent reader, daddy kink, pain kink, smut, sex, loss of virginity, vaginal fingering, hand job (male receiving)

→ author note: happy holidays my dudes! what i would do to have andy barber standing in my kitchen... anyway, reader is i n n o c e n t, but totally of age, and in college. as always, line breaks by @firefly-graphics​, gif by @evansensations​

There’s a light dust of white covering the green lawns and black asphalt of the street. You shiver as you follow your parents out towards their car, pulling your beanie down over your ears before you shove your hands into your navy blue Dartmouth hoodie.

“Honey,” your mom coos, turning back towards you as your dad loads the car, “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us? Your aunt has plenty of room.”

“I’m positive,” you laugh, “Aunt Sohpie and I don’t get along that great anyway.”

“Well, you could try a little harder.”

Your mouth drops open, eyes wide as you stare at her, “She called me a stuck up, yuppie bitch when I told her I wasn’t going to stop using deodorant.”

Your dad chuckles, prompting a swift slap to the shoulder from your mother before she turns back towards you, “Sophie is a free spirit. She doesn’t believe in putting chemicals in or on her body. One week of trying to get along won’t hurt you.”

“Oh, it’ll hurt,” you answer, pulling her into a hug, “Smelling her B.O. for a week would actually kill me.”

Your mother tuts, pulling back and slumping her shoulders a little as she squeezes your sides gently, “I don’t want to leave you here alone for Christmas.”

“Oh, stop badgering the girl. She’ll be fine,” your dad cuts in, kissing your forehead when he approaches, “She had a tough semester, she’s allowed some alone time. Be good, baby. I left a credit card on my desk for any emergencies.”

You smile warmly, “Thanks daddy.”

There’s a sound of a door opening, then closing, heavy footsteps against the old wood of the porch next door, “Oh, Andy,” your mom calls towards the neighbor, “You got a minute?”

Your face scrunches as you glance over at your father, who sighs heavy, “Don’t get mad, baby.”

“Why would I get mad?”

“She kinda, you know,” he shrugs, knocking his head back and forth, “Asked the neighbor to look in on you while we’re gone,” when your face drops, he throws up his hands, “I didn’t do it, she did.”

“Mom!” You hiss, flipping your eyes to the tall, dark haired man cutting across his front lawn, “I don’t need a babysitter! I’m twenty years old!”

“Hush,” she whispers, plastering a smile on her face as she wraps her arm around your waist, “Sorry to bother you, Andy.”

“Oh, no, no, no. It’s okay, I was just checking the mail.”

You’re angry and embarrassed as the tall, older man approaches, but a sudden heat blooms across your chilled brown skin. Pushing your glasses up your nose, you take a heavy breath, expelling it hard as you eye him. You’ve only really seen him in passing, throwing your hand up in a friendly wave as you jogged into your childhood home during a long weekend away from school. You only vaguely remember him moving in about a year or two before. Hell, you don’t even think the two of you have uttered anything more than just a neighborly ‘hey’, and now, thanks to your mother, he’s going to be keeping an eye on you.

Just wonderful.

She smiles proudly, “You remember our daughter, right?”

“I do,” he smiles slowly, an intense pair of blue-green eyes bouncing between yours, “We’ve run into each other a few times over the years. How you doin’ kiddo?”

He reaches out, extending a large palm and long fingers. You take it gently, smiling soft as you drop your eyes from his, nerves suddenly pooling in your stomach, “Um, good. Thanks for asking. How um,” you swallow, glancing back up at him, finding his eyes still centered on you, “How are you?”

He shrugs, but keeps your much smaller hand in his, “Can’t complain.”

“Listen, honey,” your mom starts, “I asked Mr. Barber to pop over and check on you every now and again while we’re gone.”

“Mother,” fake laughter filling the air, your face hot from being annoyed to all hell, “I’m not a child, and I’m sure Mr. Barber has better things to do with his time than to check on me constantly.”

“It’s no problem,” he shrugs again, those eyes of his now roaming, down your body, then up again, slowly, “I have the next couple of weeks off myself.”

“Congrats on the promotion, by the way.” Your father smiles, finally drawing Andy’s attention away from you. He nudges your side with his elbow, “Andy’s the new District Attorney.”

You keep your eyes on the tall Andy, sliding them the length of his body. He’s sturdy. Broad shoulders not so hidden underneath his zip up hoodie, clinging to thick biceps. Dark jeans accentuate long legs and a little waist. A perfect, full beard lines his strong jaw and chin. Two enormous hands are shoved into the pockets of his pants, so large that they don’t even fit right… You inhale deep, drawing your bottom lip into your mouth, sinking your teeth into the flesh as a tiny moan slips through.

Blue eyes snap to you again as it sounds. God. Your lips part, eyes widen as they stare back at him in embarrassment. He just smiles again, slow and seemingly knowing; his eyes falling down your frame again.

“We better go if we’re gonna miss traffic, hun.” Your dad’s voice suddenly breaks into your conscience, snapping you out of the small trance that Andy Barber has leveled over you, “Andy, thanks for watching over our baby while we’re gone.”

Andy winks at you, “I won’t hover, I promise. If you need anything, at any time, I’m right next door, okay? Better yet, let me give you my number.”

You nod quick, clearing your throat as you fumble around with your phone, pulling it out of your hoodie and handing it over to him, “Sure, yeah. Th-thank you, Mr. Barber.”

“Andy,” he corrects, reaching out and cupping your elbow gently, “Please.”

Another warmth spreads through you, emanating from the contact, making you giggle and smile nervously like a stupid girl before you get a hold of yourself and blink away. You all exchange another round of pleasantries, Andy wishing your parents a safe trip before he locks eyes with you again— biting his lip as he blinks and hands your phone back before turning away and heading towards his mailbox.

Almost frozen in place, you blink as you watch him move across his grass, forcefully swallowing. You really need to get out more.

One last hug from your mom and dad and you wave as they pull out of the driveway, your mom waving excitedly at you through the windshield. Rolling your eyes, but smiling wide, you return a wave before heading back inside, locking the door behind you before making a brisk b-line to the front door.

Andy’s still outside, pushing the green trash cans up against his garage as you peek out at him from behind the thin, white, door curtains. He throws open one of the lids before dipping his head, eyeing the mail in his hand as he flips through it slowly, tossing the junk into the open can. A pink blush piques on his cheeks and the tip of his nose, lips red with the chill. He looks up suddenly— out of nowhere— and cocks his head, letting another smile curl onto his lips when the two of you make eye contact again.

You gasp and jump back, instantly turning on your heel to run up the stairs towards your bedroom, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

The smell of fresh baked cookies fills the house as you pull a pan from the oven. You hum in satisfaction, a small smile on your face as you scoop the sugar cookies onto the cooling rack before pulling your mom’s Santa Claus mittens off your hands and tossing them to the counter. Last Christmas by Wham plays from the small bluetooth speaker in the corner of the kitchen, A Charlie Brown Christmas on mute playing from the ipad leaning against the utensil holder.

There’s a random crackling from the fire you started in the living room as you move around, a whir from the mixer as it beats the eggs, powdered sugar, vanilla extract, and corn syrup together. You dip your finger into the mixture, popping it into your mouth and groaning as the sweetness explodes on your tongue before you pull the beaters out, slipping your finger down the stainless steel to collect the icing still stuck to them.

A knock sounds from the front door, permeating through the rather quiet house. You lean to the side, blinking at the door as a shadow shifts through the windows on either side. Shoving the icing laden finger into your mouth, you jog towards the door, bare feet heavy against the wood floor.

“One second, one second,” you mumble, wiping your hands on your pale pink cotton shorts before you tug at your hoodie and unlock the door. A sharp inhale of cold air fills your chest when you pull open the door to find one Andy fucking Barber standing on the opposite side, “Oh,” is all you can manage.

“Hey,” he smiles, “It’s been a few days, just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Being a biomedical engineering student, you can rattle off some of the most difficult, obscure words known to man with exactly zero problems. When it comes to social interaction with the hot, forty-something, lawyer next door? Your tongue is heavy, your brain… dumb.

His smile widens as you blink like a moron, his eyebrows climbing up his forehead as he waits for you to talk. Here’s the part where you speak, dumbass! “Um,” you stutter, “Sorry, I, uh, yeah, I’m okay. I’m good, sorry.”

“Smells good in here.”

Nodding, you bite your lip, your eyes everywhere but on his face— his stare just too much, “I’m making cookies.” you glance over your shoulder before you point, “Do you want to make some? I mean,” you slam your eyes closed, “Do you want to try some? Not, some, one, do you— do you want to try one? Or some… I guess… whatever.”

Idiot. You’re a bumbling, stumbling, idiot.

He chuckles, the rumble low and deep as he runs one of those big ass hands through his dark, soft looking hair, “That is the best offer I’ve had all day.”

He steps over the threshold, his fingers brushing over yours as he reaches to close the door. You snatch your hand from it quickly, wringing it within the other as you turn awkwardly and move towards the kitchen, swallowing hard, suddenly hyper aware of how bare your legs are.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” Andy starts from behind you, “I’m surprised to find you here and not out with some friends.”

You move behind the marble topped island in the center of the kitchen as Andy walks around the opposite side. His eyes are on you again, staring as you fumble with the spatula, your fingers going as dumb as your brain, dropping it with a loud clang. You don’t even know why— okay, you know why, but this is something deeper, something you haven’t experienced before.

“Oh,” you shrug, “No, I uh, I just kinda like to stay around the house.”

He nods slowly, “A homebody, huh? Me too.”

He makes you dizzy; his masculinity is intimidating. It fills up every little space in the room. His intelligence— worldly, experienced—  oozes from him. He looks like you could ask him anything, anything, and he’d have the right answer for you. He could teach you a thing or two, that’s for sure.

A shudder creeps through your body, heat blooming across your skin, having to shift on your feet as your stomach flutters while you focus on icing this stupid cookie. The physical space he takes up unnerves you too. That wide, towering frame looming over you. Deft, thick fingers tapping gently against the countertop as you stumble around, your hands shaky.

There’s a stickiness. A warm, little wet spot in the center of your panties as stupid thoughts run through your stupid brain. You’re being ridiculous. Like this grown man would be interested in an inexperienced, socially awkward, in bed by eight thirty, little girl. Get a grip.

You slather some icing over the warm cookie and cautiously hand it towards him, clearing your throat and forcing a smile. Wringing your hands again, you find a little courage to lift your eyes just as he pops the small cookie into his mouth, closing his eyes as he chews slowly, a grunt sounding from deep in his throat.

Every muscle in your body clenches at the sound. It’s gorgeous— and if there’s anything your body appreciates, it’s a gorgeous man with a gorgeous grunt.

“It’s okay?” You squeak, timid and small before you nervously clear your throat.

“Shit, girl,” he moans again, licking his lips as he extends his hand again, “I could eat every single one of these.”

Nervous fingers clutch another cookie, adding a dollop of icing before you hand it over to him, eyes drifting up his chest and to his face as he devours the second treat. Your curious eyes watch with a longing. Pretty, thick, dark eyelashes closing again, splashing across smooth, slightly reddened cheeks. A pink tongue darts out of a wet mouth to slip along an inviting— too inviting— bottom lip, and you zero in on it. Chest rising and falling a little harder as you blink, in your own little world as you imagine just how much experience those lips, that tongue has.

There’s a hint of blue suddenly, his eyes no longer closed, now set squarely on you as those sickenly perfect white teeth emerge with another sly smile.

Another wave of embarrassment pushes through your veins, but you can’t look away from him this time. Locked in a heated stare, mind racing, palms sweaty as you watch Andy dip his index finger into the bowl of icing, scooping the sugary mix onto the pad of his digit.

“You like watching me, huh?”

Your mouth parts to answer, but nothing comes out, mouth and throat suddenly dry. He laughs at you, standing there, dumb and nervous, unable to form a coherent sentence as he pushes the tip of his finger into his mouth, sucking the icing from it slowly.

He’s moving, that much your brain can comprehend. Moving around the island, sliding the bowl of icing right to the edge where he dips his finger again, curling it to collect another glob.

Shallow, shaky breaths escape the small part in your lips, your chest and stomach so tight you’re surprised you can breathe at all. As it is, you have to rest your palm against the marble island, just to keep from falling over.

A long arm slips around your waist, nudging you forward— closer— so close that when one of those shallow, little breaths pushes out, your chest, well, your tits, brush against his. You picked a fine day to go without a bra. He drops his free hand to your waist, pushing it underneath your oversized hoodie to feel your skin as he wraps those long fingers around your hip, giving it a squeeze before he cups your chin.

“You have a boyfriend back at that fancy ass school?” He asks, eyes hooded as he tilts your head upward.

A hum vibrates through your chest before there’s a quick shake of your head as he pushes the icing over your bottom lip, smearing the sugary mix along it. He keeps your chin anchored in his hand as he stares down at you through slits, his own mouth dropping open as he coaxes yours.

“No, a smart girl like you doesn’t have time for boys, does she?” He purrs, “You probably haven’t even been touched by a boy.”

A squeak chokes in your throat as he teases you, pushing that finger back and forth, the tip pushing ever so gently into your mouth. He chuckles again, real low, menacing almost as he knows he has you right where he wants you.

“Ya know,” he starts, thumbs stroking your chin and jaw, “This Christmas cookie frosting would taste a hundred times better on you than my finger.” He smiles again, tilting his head, “Can I see?”

You mewl, pitiful and small as emotion pools in your eyes. You’re overwhelmed— nervous and unsure, wanting to be perfect. Womanly— but surely falling flat.

“Oh, baby,” he laughs, sweeping his thumbs underneath your eyes to catch the hot streaks, “Awww, it’s okay.”

Andy pushes in close, his lips brushing yours as he nuzzles his nose into the crook of yours, a low sound thrumming in his throat. He presses his cheek against your face, the soft hair of his beard pushing along your skin, goosebumps popping up all over. Your bodies start to sway in a slow rhythm, side to side, his warm breath washing over you as he smiles.

He pulls away, eyes traveling your face, “You haven’t even been kissed before?” When you don’t answer, he closes his eyes, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth, “No? Oh, my sweet girl. That is just,” he groans, eyes twinkling with an emotion you don’t even understand, “You are so perfect— so good.”

His forehead comes to rest on yours, his hands still corralling your face, fingers sticky. His tongue darts out quick, licking at your lips, dragging up to the tip of your nose. You shudder, bleating as the rough velvet passes over your mouth.

Andy moans again, sucking the icing into his mouth and swallows slow, “Yum.”

You’re jittery— clammy, as labored breaths push out of your mouth, a murky fog clouding your brain. Shaky whirs tremble through your chest as you shift on your feet, your panties sticking to your now throbbing pussy. Andy closes the distance between your mouths again, his eyes hooded as he nips at you.

Your eyes flutter, closing instinctively— waiting for the claim. It doesn’t come, not right away, making your eyes pop open, a childish whine squeaking out. You even stomp your foot a little. Twenty years is a long enough wait.

“Kiss me,” you breathe, not wasting a second, “Please, Andy—”

The words are barely out of your mouth before he grabs your lips, inhaling deep. His tongue fucks into your mouth, slipping along the roof before massaging yours, sucking lightly. You go limp against him, trying to keep up with the fervent kiss, but soon just let him take full control.

Andy pushes his hips into yours, pressing his hard cock against you, forcing you to break the kiss, gasping deep. He rests his forehead on yours again, tittering as he bites his bottom lip, “Never felt that before, huh? Mmmm,” he groans again, “I bet you feel good. So tight and warm— umph, I’m probably not even going to be able to fit my cock all in.”

You shudder at the thought.

He brushes the tip of his nose against yours, “I gotta open you up a bit, don’t I? Hmm? This sweet little cunt needs to get used to being stuffed full.” He turns you in his hands, presses his burly chest into your back, his lips to your ear, “I want you to finish icing these cookies like a good girl, okay? You do as daddy says.”

You don’t move, you can’t really, as you try to comprehend what’s going on. It takes Andy pushing his crotch into your ass, grinding your hips against the island and literally grabbing your wrists, making your hands grab the butter knife and a cookie before your brain catches up. With shaky fingers, you push the knife through the icing and slather it on one of the small, round, golden brown cookies.

“Good girl,” he praises, pecking your cheek, nuzzling into the side of your face, “Daddy wants you to focus.”

He drags his warm palms up your forearms, stroking gently before they fall to your sides. They push up into your hoodie, fingertips glancing across sensitive, untouched skin. Small laughter vibrates through his chest as you jump and gasp, huffing and keening as he explores.

Little kisses are pressed to your temple and side of your face as his hands venture up your sides, curling around your rib cage until he’s grasping your bare tits in both hands, squeezing and kneading— hissing as he grinds his rigidly hard cock into your ass.

You freeze, body going stiff as nimble fingers play with your thick, piqued nipples. Warm lips nip at your neck as you push back into his hips, wiggling slowly, the thin cotton of your shorts not proving to be much of a barrier at all.

Andy reaches around, plucking the cookie out of your hand and pops it into his mouth just as his free hand skips down your stomach— right into your shorts. You jut your hips forward as his fingers plunge through your folds, massaging your clit slowly as he murmurs in your ear.

“That’s what I love about virgins. The slightest little touch gets you all worked up.” He pulls his hand from your shorts, holding it out for you to see your slick coating his fingers— a string connecting from his index finger to the middle. He brings his wet fingers to your lips, steel eyes peering at you as he waits, “Clean ‘em up.”

He slides his free hand back into your sweatshirt, pushing it up over your tits before he tweaks your left nipple, rolling it slow as he pushes the tips of his fingers into your mouth. Sweet, tiny little whines sound from you as you accept his long fingers into your mouth, starting to suck gently, the taste of your arousal exploding on your tongue.

“That’s right, just like that baby.” He reassures, slipping a hand back into your panties.

Your mouth goes slack around his fingers as he toys with you, rubbing your achy clit as your hips start to move with his rhythm. Resting your weight against his sturdy body, you moan loud, pushing out hard breaths, eyes slipping closed, head rolling on his shoulder as his wet fingers slip from your mouth back to your left nipple.

His fingers start to tease your slit, pushing gently, slowly, until… a sharp yelp fills the kitchen as two fingers stuff you full. Andy wraps his arm around your waist, holding you to him, cooing in your ear as he continues to push in, “You’re okay baby. I know, I know sweet girl, we’re almost there. Just a bit more.”

Tears sting your eyes as your face strains from the pressure and pain of being spread for the first time. Once his fingers have disappeared, the heel of his palm pressing against your folds and clit, he pulls your chin towards him and licks at your mouth, sucking air in between his teeth.

“I can’t wait to fuck this sweet pussy,” he kisses you quick and hard, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth before he releases you with a loud smack, “I love a virgin cunt. It’s been a while since I’ve had one.”

You squeak when his fingers start to move, slow, deep, a squelch sounding as his fingers push into your muscles. It hurts, but there’s a twinge of good, something inside of you being pleasured once you push past the pain. The sweet taste of pleasure doesn’t stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks as his fingers pick up a brisk pace.

Andy growls in your ear, the sound scratching at the back of his throat, kind of hollow and breathy as he grinds his cock into your ass, “You havent fucked yourself like this before? I didn’t think I’d hurt you this bad with just my fingers, baby.”

A hot, rough wetness slides along your cheek, his tongue, lapping at you. You grab onto his forearm, feeling his muscles tense and flex as he fingers your innocence, digging your nails into the thick Shetland wool sweater covering his torso. He pushes deep, suddenly, making you cry out again.

He grunts, snaking his hand up into your hoodie to take a firm hold of your tit. Resting his forehead to the back of your head, he quickens his fingers, his hot breath on the back of your neck, quick swipes of his tongue and lips against your hypersensitive skin— making the miniscule hairs on your body stand on end.

His palm presses against your clit with each shove of his fingers. Strapping, hard chest flattened to your back, loud, husky moans in your ear. His hips roll and push, writhe into yours as his fingers start to thrash. Teeth sink into your shoulder, his tongue sliding and sweeping.

“Andy—” you cry, whimpering like a child, “It hurts. I— I can’t,”

“Oh, sweetheart.” His fingers slow and then stop, pulling out of you to rub your clit, soothing the balmy flesh. He turns you around in his arms as you cry, lifting you right from your feet, “I’m sorry. Shh, shh, I’m sorry, baby.”

The instant warmth of his mammoth chest and arms soothe the tumultuous pangs of anxiety coursing through you. Nuzzling in, the softness of his beard helps ease your nerves as you wrap two jelly arms around his neck. Andy’s big hands push up and down your back as he murmurs sweet nothings. Stomach tight, heart fluttering, face hot and wet with tears— you’re properly overwhelmed and overstimulated, and Andy could just eat it all up.

“You are so pretty when you cry, you know that? You did so good, baby. You took my fingers so well.”

You huff, disappointed, pushing your face deeper into his neck, “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, don’t do that,” he whispers, “It’s okay to not be ready.” He sits you back on your feet, pulling and adjusting your sweatshirt back over your chest. He pecks your lips quick before cupping your face in his hands, “It’s gonna make our first time together so much better.”

He pushes in to kiss you again, but stops, just as his lips brush yours. You get up on your tiptoes, wanting to meet his mouth but he’s quick, pulling away and stealing another cookie as he takes a step back.

“Thanks for the cookies, sweetheart.”

And just like that, with a wink and a smile, he’s moving out of the kitchen, the front door slamming behind him.

It might as well be the middle of a Texas summer heatwave in your bedroom. Exasperated, you throw the covers away from your body, skin slick with sweat as you wipe at your forehead. You’ve been like this all day— hot and irritated, stomach and mind jumbled, unable to focus on much of anything but thoughts of depravity. Pissed off at yourself more than anything; that you couldn’t take it all.

You sit up in the dark room, a sliver of moonlight spilling in from behind the thin curtains over your window. Snow flakes float down from the sky, glimmering, basking in the soft, natural light of the moon. Thoughts of Andy return. Reddened, full lips on your face, his soft, velvety, pink tongue forging its own path in the uncharted territory that is your mouth. His hands, big and warm, pinching and grabbing, pushing in deep.

Every muscle in your body clenches; achy cunt squeezing around nothing.

A soft light illuminates from the nightstand, followed by a buzz, a random alert from your twitter. But then, oh but then— Andy’s words come floating back to you. Better yet, let me give you my number. The sleek iphone is in your hand within seconds, fingers sliding over the keyboard, shooting off a text.

You 1:15am

You up?

Andy B. 1:17am

What’s a smart girl like you doing up so late on Christmas Eve?

An influx of air fills your lungs as your heart leaps.

You 1:17am

I can’t sleep…

Andy B. 1:18am

Want me to help with that?

You won’t be getting much sleep tho…

You 1:18am

That’s what I’m hoping…

Andy B. 1:19am

LOL, okay smarty pants, come wait for Santa with me, front door’s open

You’re already halfway down the stairs by the time his invite slides across the screen. You shove your feet into your Ugg boots at the bottom of the staircase and grab your jacket from the coat rack, pushing into it as you throw open the front door. Crossing your arms over your chest, you jog down the steps of the porch and start for Andy’s, an instant chill rattling right down to your bones.

Footprints in the snow follow you as you cross the lawn, a light crunch sounding underneath your feet, adding to the whoosh of a breeze that rips through the sleepy street. Once you’re on Andy’s porch, you reach for the door, pushing through the threshold and closing it softly with a click.

The house is dark, and quiet, a tiny point of light coming from the kitchen and the random ticks of a clock somewhere deep. Your jacket hits the floor, ugg boots thump against the wall as you kick them off, hand slides along the banister as you climb the stairs slow. Wide eyes adjust to the dark as you pad slowly down the long hall, passing by one closed door, and then another until you reach one that’s slightly ajar. Light spills out of it, splashing over your bare toes as you step right up to it, fingertips pushing against the door.

You find Andy propped up against his headboard, chest bare, legs spread— hard, pink cock sticking out of his boxers, gripped tight in his hand. He flips his eyes to yours as he strokes himself slow, pushing his hips into it, groaning at the sight of you.

The air in your body— the room— is sucked right out as you lock eyes. With a blink, your greedy eyes are on the move, down his hair smattered chest and chiseled stomach, over the dark blue boxer briefs, down his meaty thighs and toned calves, right to his curled toes and back up again.

You have to bite your lip to keep quiet.

“I’ve been,” the words out of his mouth come to a halt being replaced by a low grunt as he squeezes his cock, precum dribbling out of his slit, “Shit sweetheart, I’ve been thinking about you all day. Haven’t been able to cum since you left me all worked up.”

You bleat softly, blinking wild and nervous as you watch his hand slide up and down, palm and fingers sweeping over his mushroom head to collect the droplets of his arousal to push it down his shaft.

“Well, come on. Come touch me.”

It’s a good thing your feet aren’t as stupid as your brain, or else you’d still be standing in place. Before you can get your mind to catch up, you're pulling yourself towards the edge of the bed, falling forward, catching yourself with your hands. Crawling between his legs, your tank top hangs low, Andy’s eyes peering down your cleavage before you sit on your knees— hands trembling.

He reaches for you, grabbing your wrist gently, pulling your hand towards his towering cock. Guiding you slow, he wraps your hand around him, his hips jerking soft at the warmth of your palm and pushes your hand down to his base, before dragging it up to the tip. He helps you for a few more strokes, twisting your hand around him, guiding your fingers up over his cock head and then back down, squeezing your hand to apply a gentle pressure.

“That’s right, baby—ah—” he hisses, jutting his hips up into your hand, “Shit.”

You continue to pump him after his hand falls away, relishing in the small noises that sound from him— sending your heart soaring. His hips pulse into your hand, eyes fluttering as more cum bubbles out, slipping and sliding over your fingers. Andy reaches for the lamp on the nightstand, turning it out, covering the room in darkness except for the moon.

He’s beautiful like this. Chest tight and shuddering with each breath, dark eyelashes splayed over fair skin, a chorus of sweet, small little whines and praise pouring from him. A soft pink blush unfurling over his broad chest, creeping up his neck.

“Fuck baby,” breathless and strained, “You’re a fuckin’ pro already. My smart little girl.” You suck your bottom lip into your mouth but still can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners, “Oh, you like that?” Andy smiles lazily, “You like being my smart little girl?”

Hot lips are on yours before you can even form your mouth to answer. Flipped onto your back, strong hips digging into yours, his cock pushing against your covered clit and slit as he kisses you hard. It takes your breath away.

You’d always thought you’d be awkward, stiff and unknowing, once you finally reached this moment— nothing but teeth and elbows and knees in all the wrong places— but, there’s a natural instinct coming into play. You’re lost, but somehow intricately aware. Fingers creep up his biceps and curl around his shoulder blades, digging in as your hips push back into his. Mouth leans into the feverish kisses, tongue sliding with his.

Colossal hands push into your shorts, pushing them down before his feet knock them off the rest of the way. Your top is rucked up, up over your breasts, exposing more brown skin, two soft, jiggling mounds, two piqued nipples soon sucked into a warm, wet mouth. A long middle finger toys with your clit, rubbing circles before more fingers join, slipping through slick and skin as they play.

“Tell me,” hot, whispered words sting in your ear, “Tell me you like being my smart girl.”

Hips dig into yours once more, hard cock pushing against your sensitive nub, then pressing at your opening. You grab the back of his neck, moaning hard and loud as electricity bounces through your veins, “Andy—” you squeak, “I like—”

A sharp cry breaks through the words as Andy pushes hard, spearing you for the very first time. Pressure and pain courses through you, body going tight and stiff as he sinks deeper and deeper, large palms on your cheeks, forehead to yours, warm breaths and ragged, choked grunts washing over your face.

Hard kisses— one, two, three— on your lips as he holds your face, his eyes closed, mouth hanging as he sinks, sinks, sinks until you’ve taken him all. Your head is empty. Devoid of any real, coherent thoughts, unable to focus on any one thing; well, nothing other than the fullness.

“Tell me you like being my smart girl.” Andy rasps, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to keep himself together. He shifts, hips pulling away from yours, cock dragging out, “Come on baby, tell me you like it.”

Andy pushes his hips, pushes back into you, but real gentle and smooth, knowing you’re teetering— overwhelmed in more ways than one, a feeling that can turn south on a dime. So, he keeps his hands on your face, thumbs rubbing soft circles. He opens his eyes, giving you something to focus on as he moves gently— so, so gently. Keeping you present.

“Use those words, sweet girl. Talk to me.”

Water fills your eyes as you grip, nails biting into the meat of his sides as he fucks you slow and sweet. Heat burns through you, tiny sounds, choked sobs scratch at the back of your throat, but it’s good— feels so good. Your legs push up and around his waist, hands start to snake up his sinewy back, feeling the muscles flex and tighten as he makes you a woman— makes you his.

Safe. Warm. Cocooned between his heavy body and the light mattress. Hips rolling, pushing and pulling. Hot breath over hot skin. Quick, jumbled words, thick and ripe with a heady lust. You like being his smart girl. Gripping fingers, around your face, your wrists, your tits, hips, thighs, ankles— everywhere you could possibly imagine.

Andy flips you over suddenly, his back now pressed into the mattress as you lay on top of him. He positions you right where he wants you— sitting you up straight, positioning your hands against his brawny chest. He encases your waist with those massive hands, squeezing tight before the pads of his fingers drag along your thighs as you wiggle, getting used to the new position.

“Push up— that’s right, sweetheart,” he sighs softly as you follow his direction, “Now sit back down— slowly, baby, go slow.” His head falls back on the pillows as he exhales, a groan trembling through his chest, “God, yeah babe. Good girl. Up and down, up and down.”

Your fingers push through the tuft of soft, dark hair covering his chest as you ride him, lifting and sitting, rolling and bucking as you get a hang of it— catch a feel— your clit rubbing against his taut skin. You feel Andy trying to keep his composure, feel him trying to restrain himself, his hips. Watch his eyes flutter and close as his mouth goes slack again as he pushes up into you, meeting your increasingly greedy thrusts downward.

“I’m your smart girl,” you whisper, heart beating hard and fast in your chest as your confidence grows, “I’ve always wanted to be your smart girl.”

He jams up into you, much harder than anything you’ve felt so far.

A sharp yelp cracks into the silence and he grabs your wrists, runs his hands up your arms, before he cups your face, “Shhh, shhh, shhh, I’m sorry baby. I didn’t know it was gonna sound so sweet,” he laughs, “God, I fucking love hearing you say that.”

He drops a hand back to your chest, grabbing a handful of your tit, toying with your nipple, pinching and pulling. His other hand wraps around your hip again, helping to pull you forward, as he thrusts soft. You don’t move; you just let him fuck up into you, grab his hands and thread your fingers with his as you bounce.

Thrusts get faster; hips hurried, jabbing. Wet rasps fill the room, octaves soaring. You fall forward a little, unclasping his hands to catch yourself against his chest. Andy’s hands are back around your waist and hips as you fuck down onto him, chasing that little, dull ache in the pit of your stomach that grows with each push of his hips.

Andy has two full handfuls of your ass, growling loud, hips faltering— losing control as he forces you down on him. You take each hard thrust, tears spilling down your cheeks, pleasure and pain all wrapped up into one. Sweat and heat crawls along your skin, stomach goes tight, throat dries. You dig your fingers into his chest as your toes curl, whimpering and crying out, choking as the pressure builds.

You tighten— freeze quick, gasp hard as a white hot orgasm floods your veins, like a molten lava, oozing, spreading. Flattening yourself to Andy’s chest, you let him wrap his arms around your back and hold you tight as he fucks you through it. The meat of his thighs slapping against yours, your cunt sounding wet and filthy, squelching and convulsing as you come.

There’s another heat, quick and dense, filling you as Andy’s grunts grow deeper. His grip on your ass tightens as he spurts— your used cunt coaxing long, hot ribbons of white silk from his sensitive, red cock head. He falls out of you, dick wet and hard, pushing through your ass cheeks as his hips still churn out of habit and inherent instinct.

Hands are on your head, fingers wiping at your face and forehead, pushing hair away. You’re embarrassed— not sure why— and nuzzle into his neck, hiding your face as you tuck your hands into your chest protectively. Another laugh sounds from him, vibrates through you, as he kisses your forehead and rubs his bearded cheek against your face.

“You’re a sweet girl,” honeyed, his voice, smooth and sweet, slow drags of his hands up and down your back lulling you, calming you, suddenly nervous, “My sweet, smart little baby. You okay?” you nod, but it isn’t good enough, “Tell me.”

“I’m okay.” You sniffle, eyelashes clumped, cheeks wet, lips swollen and red.

You nuzzle into him more, taking a deep breath as you listen to his heartbeat. Another silence fills the room, Andy’s breaths soon turn deep, slow and rhythmic, his hands and fingers coming to a slow stop but still splayed out over your back. A quick press of your lips against his neck makes him shift, but doesn’t wake him. You press another on his chin before you settle down into him once more, watching as snow starts to fall again.

There’s a Christmas present sitting at the edge of the bed when you wake the next morning, your name scrawled out on the name tag. You tear into it, pulling out a small white box, the name LELO embossed over the top. Eyebrows firmly furrowed, you turn it over in your hand, mouth falling open as you read the description and eye the two twenty karat gold Ben Wa beads.

Andy appears in the doorway, a steaming cup in his hand, a smile on his face, “Merry Christmas. Santa came for you, huh?”

“Merry Christmas,” you glance away, “I don’t have anything for you.”

“That’s okay,” he shrugs, “I was a bit presumptuous after our little rendezvous in the kitchen— ordered those from Amazon yesterday.” He pads towards you, leaning down to kiss you quick before he hands you the hot mug, “Are you okay?”

A nervous giggle escapes through your lips, your head falling as you cover your mouth with your hand, “Mmhmm.”

Andy tips your head back upwards, pushing his index finger underneath your chin, smiling again before he kisses you all sweet and soft and slow, making you go all stupid and gooey again.

“What are these for?” You ask after he pulls away a few moments later.

His eyes twinkle in the sunlight as he winks, “Training. Now, lay back and spread your legs for daddy, little one.”

[miioouu]

He's dilf

(also dk what else to call this)

Dilf Sakusa? Yes, dilf Sakusa. As I said before my head is sooooooo empty, just want Omi to rail me, so here we go!! Also i wanted to write more but i felt like it got too long, if you guys enjoy iiit, i just might write another part.❤️💜❤️

Warning:smut, age gap, perv reader...

Sakusa is a single dad, and a caring, loving one to say the least. All he ever does is for his kids, he always got them in mind, he dedicates his best matches for them, he dedicates his whole life for them really. But being an athlete means a lot of special training, a lot of overnight practices, a lot of overseas games, and as much as he loves that he's able to do what he's really passionate about for a living, the only downside, the thing that he hates the most about volleyball, is that it takes away from his family life. If it were for him, he'd spent everyday with his two kiddos, waking up next to them, having breakfast on the same table, spending the day laughing and doing normal family activities, bathe them, put them to bed and read their bedtime stories, but unfortunately, he couldn't do that. And that's why you're here.

A college student balancing studies and work, you honestly were so grateful that you applied as a babysitter for Sakusa. Not only are his kids literal angels, but he paid you good money, you technically live in a luxurious home for free, everything, from food to bed is there for you. His rules are pretty simple, keep an eye on the kids, make them happy and be there for them, support them, and stay clean. When first read that in the contract you were taken aback, but you quickly realized the man's strange phobia.

And to be honest you find it hot. When he came home, the way he takes off all his clothes at the door, leaving him in nothing but his undershirt tank and his boxers. If you're lucky, he's just came back from practice, his body is still glistening in drops of sweat. A look of pure disgust on his face as he takes his mask off, revealing his entire face as he marches to the bathroom, his bathroom, seeing every muscle of his contract as he moves. And you know it's wrong, kind of gross to be having lewd thoughts about him, not only he's your boss, the man is a good fifteen years older than you. But maybe that adds to the attraction. Older, more mature and well wise, you bet he knows so much more than your stupid college boys. You bet he knows exactly how to make you feel good. You can't help to think that way. Not when on the rare days he spends home, he looks so heavenly. The muscles in his arms flexing as he's wiping the table after his kids have finished lunch. His back muscles bulging as he's picking up one of them, and even more when it's the both of them. The odd times when you're alone, his words make you shiver, his whole attention on you. You can but rub your thighs at his weird habits; holding your hands to his nose seeing if you washed them properly, peaking over your shoulder as you do the dishes, sometimes standing way to close you can feel his body heat, running his fingers into your hair, putting them in ponytail, tightening it because "Don't want none of you hair in my and my kids's food."

All those small moments, they shouldn't make you wet, but they do, as you replay them in your memory, layed out in his bed. You know it's kind of creepy and inappropriate, if he ever finds out, it's the end of you, but you're addicted now. It only take you once. As you were putting away his laundry, the scent of him invaded you. The kids are well asleep, he told you he's coming late, you had plenty of time, and you couldn't help but think "What do his pillows smell like? Is his mattress firmer than mine? His sheets softer? What if I just..." and you did. You slipped into his bed, your unconscious taking over as your hand traveled down between your folds, the smell of his fresh laundry mixed with the remnants of his expensive cologne invading you, and it became a little, naughty habit of yours to cum in his sheets.

But do you really think he didn't notice? From the first night, he felt you scent in his sheets. He's not surprised, he's not dumb. The man has seen you eyeing him, your orbs looking from the curls on top on his head to his toes, always focusing on the bulge in his pants for a bit a too long. He should be disgusted by your behavior, but instead he's grossed out by his own dirty thoughts. He'd be lying if he didn't feel the same attraction. The man is well aged, too tired to be chasing around, so when he has someone like you living under his roof, he doesn't need to do much. Just close his eyes and let his mind wander; why are you in a skirt so short around kids? Your work consist of bending down, crouching over, moving around, do you know what you're doing? And why do you keep fluttering your eyelashes like that? Why do you smell so good? Everytime you walk past him, his cock twitches in his trousers. And he's so close, so close. Just remembering your form bent over helping one of the kids, your shirt opening and revealing your chest, one hand busy cleaning the kid's face, while the other holding into your own popsicle, getting it closer to your mouth, your lips wrapping around it, and it's when he remembers your innocent eyes looking up and meeting his hungry ones for a second that he finally reaches his climax, leaving traces of white in the sheets for you to discover tomorrow morning...

[poisonedapples]

Patton’s Home for Traumatized Kids - Chapter Three

New School and Friendships

Chapter Summary: Roman has his first day in a new district while some bonds are strengthened.

First Chapter Previous Chapter Story Masterlist

Warnings: Past abuse mentions, mentions of hidden cameras, anxiety, some bullying, crying, and food mentions

Chapter Word Count: 5,860

Taglist: @shade-romeo, @grayson-22, @pixelated-pineapple, @acrobaticcatfeline, @astrozei, @edupunkn00b, @princey-7258

“Hey, dad?”

“Yeah?” Roman’s dad turned to face him. Roman felt his whole body start to shake.

“You know how you said that…I could ask for anything from you? Since, uh- since you didn’t know what present to get me last time?”

His dad smiled in a way so normal it was disturbing. “Got an idea?”

“Yeah, uh…I want a canopy bed.”

His dad’s face dropped, and Roman could feel the anxiety and regret bloom through his chest. “You know why I can’t do that, Roman.”

“Please? I know it’s probably a bit much to replace my whole bed frame, but I could make my own canopy for cheaper! I’ve already looked at a bunch of ways online how, I just need you to buy the materials-”

“It’s a no.” Roman’s dad looked angry, and Roman would’ve done anything to run the other direction at that moment. To burst out the door and never come back. “Nice try, Roman, but I’m not stupid. Come back when you have a better idea.”

Roman blinked to fight back the tears. “…I’m sorry.”

“Go back to your room.”

Roman ran up the stairs as fast as he could, wishing more than anything that there was a lock on his door. Instead, Roman took his desk chair and propped it against the knob for some kind of security, curling into the corner of his room as he shook and tugged at his hair.

He tried to block out the knowledge of the security camera on his shelf, hidden well but not well enough, pointed right at his bed.

***

Several fast knocks came onto Roman’s bedroom door, waking him up with a jerk. He groggily pushed open the curtain in front of his head to grab his phone and look at the time. Six o’clock on the dot, it read. Ugh.

The knocking on the door didn’t stop, and Roman whined. “What?” He called out.

“Get dressed, we need to leave the house by 6:30.” He heard Logan call back.

“Fine, fine.” Roman pushed the curtains out of the way and practically rolled out of bed, grabbing the clothes he’d organized for himself the night before. He put on a pair of jeans with a white and red t-shirt, nothing fancy but fancy enough for a first day surrounded by strangers. He grabbed his backpack and put his phone and some earbuds in his pocket before heading downstairs to the kitchen.

“Morning, kiddo!” Patton chirped as he made breakfast, “Didja sleep well?”

“Yes, I did.” That was a lie. He had some strange dream where his dad was also there, and he only managed to calm down and fall back asleep an hour ago. He still couldn’t stop thinking about it, even if the dream was hazy now.

“Good to hear! Be ready by 6:30 so I can drive all of you to the school. Then once you get there, you can ask about your schedule at the office.” Patton laid down a plate of bagels with cream cheese and strawberries in front of Roman, so Roman began to eat.

Once he finished his breakfast, Roman rushed back upstairs to style his hair and brush his teeth before they had to leave. As he brushed his teeth, he stared at the shower to the left of him and sighed. He touched his hair, feeling the grease slick onto his fingers.

He really needed to shower. He hadn’t showered since he got here, and with how thick his hair was it was really starting to gross him out. He hated feeling greasy and grimy, but Roman hadn’t checked the bathroom for cameras yet and he refused to shower until he did. Though, he knew that was also just an excuse. Roman also felt too tired to take care of himself.

Just brush your teeth, he thought, they told you that if you can’t shower, at least brush your teeth. Greasy hair can be fixed, cavities are expensive.

He spit out the toothpaste into the sink and rinsed out his mouth. He grabbed some face wash and decided to use it as quickly as he could to hold back the gross feeling he felt. It would help him feel a little cleaner, at least. A little more presentable for the first day.

A loud bang came onto the door. “Roman, hurry up!” Virgil called out, “Some of us need to piss!”

“Just a second!” Roman vigorously splashed water on his face and quickly dried it with a towel, rushing out of the bathroom so that Virgil could run in. He sighed again, walking downstairs to wait on the couch until it was time to go.

“Alrighty, everyone got everything?” Patton eventually asked, making Roman crack open the eyes he didn’t even realize he closed. Patton smiled and clapped his hands together when his response was tired hums of agreement. “Perfect! To the car!”

All three kids bunched themselves together in the back of Patton’s car, Roman and Virgil at the window seats while poor Logan was squished in the middle. Roman squeezed his legs together so he could fit his backpack between Logan and himself, acting as a barrier so Logan couldn’t touch him. It was uncomfortable, but it was what Roman had to do.

“So, Roman, are you excited?” Patton asked, making Roman open his eyes again to look at Patton through the rearview mirror. Roman leaned his head against the window.

“More nervous. I’ve never been to a new school before.”

“Well, hopefully you can make lots of friends here! The school is pretty big, so there are certainly lots of options!” Patton laughed at himself and Roman closed his eyes again.

We’ll see about that.

Eventually, after a failed attempt of getting in some extra minutes of sleep before school, Roman felt the car come to a stop. He opened his eyes and looked out the window to see the front of the large school building, kids with smiling faces talking to each other as they walked inside while others looked tired yet excited. Roman wasn’t feeling it.

“Alright, kiddos, have fun!” Patton exclaimed, “Remember to check in with the office for your schedule, Roman!”

All the kids started to pile out of the car, grabbing their bags off the floor to rush inside. Once they were all out, Patton’s car drove away to head for work.

Roman looked at the building as Logan and Virgil walked inside. It seemed huge compared to his old school, where the county was much more rural than here. They still had twenty minutes until school started and kids were already swarming in from multiple entrances, both from the main entrance and other doors connected around the building. Roman walked inside and held his arms close to himself, desperate not to be shoved around by the other students. 

The office was fairly easy to find, considering there was a giant sign over the door in bold, white letters reading Office. Roman opened the door and stepped inside to get in line, feeling a little bit better that he wasn’t the only student having first day issues. The line shrank very quickly until it was Roman’s turn to ask questions, being faced with an old lady who could either be very sweet or the rudest person in the building. Roman could never tell.

“Uh, I’m a new kid at this school, and my guardian told me to come here to get my schedule?” Roman asked.

“Name.” Okay, well, rude it was, then.

“Roman Goldsberry.”

The desk worker didn’t respond, only typed something on her computer and didn’t make eye contact. “Next door to your left of that entrance is the counselor’s office. Your counselor is Mrs. Walters and she’ll call for you shortly.”

“Okay, thank you.” Roman had never scurried out of an office so quickly in his life. So much for a great first impression.

In the other office, Roman sat on a waiting chair and awkwardly glanced at all the college items they had hung up on the walls, waiting until his name would be called. The school day hasn’t even started yet, what’s taking them so long?

Roman drummed his fingers on the armrest of his chair and waited. There was a lot of college stuff in this room. Granted, high school’s whole thing was trying to take you to college, his old school was the exact same. And he should really start thinking about that stuff since he’s a sophomore now. He only had two more years left after this, but it’s not like he could go anyway. He wasn’t even supposed to graduate high school, let alone college.

Besides, his dream was stupid anyway, so it didn’t matter.

“Roman Goldsberry?” A voice called out, taking Roman out of his thoughts. Roman stood up to follow the counselor into her office.

“I’m Mrs. Walters, and it’s nice to meet you Roman!” She said cheerily as she sat at her desk with Roman sitting right in front of her. “Your schedule was a bit last minute to pull together, but I tried my hardest based on your last school’s transcript and your test scores from last standardized testing. All I need is to schedule some extra electives for you. You have advanced English 12, advanced geometry, advanced biology, and world history. You can also choose Spanish 3 here if you wish to continue that. You also still need your gym credit, so you can take regular PE or strength training. I also have a list of other electives here if you want to look at that.”

“Yeah, I can look.” The counselor handed Roman a paper of all the electives organized by their subject. Well, Roman definitely wanted to continue Spanish, so that choice was easy. Strength training sounded like a fun way to do gym class with less dodgeballs to the face, but it was only a semester long, so he’d need to pick another semester class for the second half of the year. And he could join another painting or drawing class as his last elective, but he’d already taken those at his old school…

Roman gazed at the arts section of the packet, trying to find something he might like. His eyes lit up as he noticed the names of two classes: set design, which was a semester long and sounded magical, and something called sculpture. “What does the sculpture class teach?” Roman asked.

“It’s an art class that teaches you how to sculpt with different things. Like clay, wood, things like that. It’s a very hands-on class if you’re interested.”

Roman smiled. “I want that one then.”

The counselor typed something into her computer. “Have you chosen your other classes?”

“Yes, Spanish 3, set design, and strength training.”

“I’ll put you in strength training for this semester, but next semester you can join the set design class. I’ll email your elective teachers to inform them you’ll be joining their classes, but for now…” The counselor printed off a piece of paper and handed it to Roman. “This is your new schedule. Your first class is English with Ms. Fritz, and her class should be up on the third floor at room 316. Do you think you can make it there?”

“I can, thank you.”

The counselor smiled. “Have a nice first day.”

Roman walked off to head toward his first class, going up two flights of stairs and wandering across half the floor before he finally found his classroom. Thankfully, the halls were full of students desperately trying to locate their classrooms, so Roman didn’t feel as weird. He eventually stumbled upon the correct room number after checking multiple hallways and trying to follow their scattered number system. He looked at the door with a paper rabbit and a book with a phrase reading hop into a good book, and could guess immediately what type of teacher this would be.

Roman pushed open the half-cracked door and stepped inside.

The dozen kids who were already sitting stared at him when he walked in, but quickly resumed their conversations shortly after. Roman glanced at an empty seat off in the middle row near the other end of the class and moved to sit down in it. He looked around at the other kids off in their own worlds, with no one to get excited to see him and strike up a conversation. He was sitting alone in a class where it seemed like no one else was.

Roman got bored quickly with no one to talk to, drumming his fingers on the table and starting to daydream instead.

The long lost princess with the power to see into the future is forced to hide in protected wilderness, Roman thought, picking up from an old story idea he’s had for a while. Can’t have a teen novel without an orphan, so she lives with a guardian healer instead. Then, she needs a trusty companion to not only start her adventures, but to assist her alongside them. Perhaps he could be a peasant boy born with more magic power than the normal peasant has? It sure would be interesting. Or maybe, he’s not a trustworthy companion at all! What if he’s using the princess to promote his own selfish ideals? But as the story goes on, they actually become close friends and he has an intense internal conflict as he turns into the antagonist! Then maybe-

“Alright class, I think it’s been late enough for us to start!” Roman tried not to be aggravated at the teacher for interrupting him. The teacher stood at the front of the class with a wide smile. “I’m Ms. Fritz, but of course I’m sure a lot of you already know that since you had me last year. I teach all grade levels for advanced English, so if you keep down this path you might stick with me until graduation! Now normally, teachers will start their first day with class expectations, maybe a rubric or a supplies list, but I have a better idea! How about we travel across the class and try to get to know each other better? I can pass around a ball, and if you catch the ball, you have to share three fun facts about you!”

A sense of dread filled into Roman after hearing that. He usually didn’t mind games like this since it was a mindless way to pass the time, but he didn’t have any friends to pass him the ball anymore. Was he just going to sit there until the end? Sounded awkward, no thank you.

“I think,” Ms. Fritz said with her hand gripping her chin in thought, “I’m going to start with the new kid.”

Roman perked his head up as all the other kids turned to him. Well, that was unexpected.

Ms. Fritz tossed Roman the ball, and thankfully he caught it without making a fool of himself. The teacher smiled at him encouragingly as he stood up, looking around at all the kids waiting for him to talk. What should I even say?

“Can you say your name first?” Ms. Fritz asked.

“Well…I’m Roman. Uh, I like to paint, I’m half french, and…” Roman tried to think. What else was interesting about him? Something that shared a lot about him as a person?

Quickly, it dawned on him. One idea that I could possibly share, he thought. Well, it’s a bit invasive, but they’re all looking at me. So whatever.

He took a deep breath in. “…I’m a foster kid.”

When Roman admitted that, all the kids seemed to be more interested in him, leaning closer as their eyes widened. It was the first time Roman ever said it aloud, and it was so strange to hear coming from his mouth. He was a foster kid. That was an important part of his identity now.

He didn’t know how he felt about it.

“You’re half french?” Ms. Fritz pulled Roman out of his thoughts with that question. “Do you know any french?”

“I’m fluent.”

“That’s so cool! Can you say something in French for us?”

Roman seemed to think about it. “Quelque chose.”

Ms. Fritz blinked. “Well, I hope it was appropriate to say in a classroom. When did you move here, Roman?”

“Like…four days ago. Very recently.”

“You only got added to my roster last night, so I believe you! How about you pass the ball to another kid now?”

Roman looked around the room awkwardly before making eye contact with a random girl and tossing her the ball. He sat back down and only paid half his attention to what the other kids were saying. Well, at least he didn’t have to wait awkwardly anymore.

The rest of the class went like that. It seemed like a lot of these kids were students that Ms. Fritz had in the past, as well as being students that were also close friends with each other. They talked a lot and made lots of jokes with the teacher, and they seemed really close, which Roman understood since he was the same with his old group of advanced kids. The extra conversation dragged the game out longer than it probably should have been, but Roman didn’t mind. He didn’t want to actually work or anything anyway.

Eventually, the game ended, and the last kid tossed the ball to Ms. Fritz. “Alright,” she said, “That game dragged out longer than I thought it would, but that’s fine! The bells are shorter the first few days anyway. We only have a couple minutes left, so talk amongst yourself if you want, I don’t care. The assembly should be after your fourth bell for the sophomores, so don’t let your teachers forget!”

All the students turned around to talk to the kids around them. Roman simply watched their conversations with no one to talk to himself, realizing how all the new kids at his old school must have felt. It was like looking in from the outside, where no one else could see you. Roman was just…there.

“Hey,” the kid in front of him turned around to face Roman. Roman almost jumped at the sudden attention. “What’s your name again?”

“Oh, Roman. Roman Goldsberry.” Roman turned to sit properly in his seat and leaned in closer. This was a good start! He seems nice, maybe I can make a friend!

“Roman Goldsberry!” He mocked, turning to his other friends to laugh. “That’s such a pretentious name. And very American sounding, by the way. I thought you were French?”

Roman’s shoulders sagged. Nevermind. Eight in the morning on my first day, and apparently I’ve made an enemy before a friend. “I’m half french, not fully french.”

The kid turned to his friends and made a face at them before they all laughed. Roman felt his blood boil.

“So your dad is the American?” The kid asked.

“Yes.” Roman hoped his sharp tone would help them realize not to mess with him.

“Are you close with your dad?”

Roman froze, and the group of kids turned to each other to make faces at each other again. He really didn’t see what was so funny. Who asks a complete stranger a question like that out of the blue?

Before Roman could snap and tell the kid to mind his own damn business, another kid from the other side of the room scoffed. “Mitchell.”

“What? I’m just asking!”

The other kid opened their mouth to retaliate, but a loud and obnoxious bell went off before they could. Kids started to get up to rush to their next class, and Roman joined them. The sooner he got away from Mitchell (who had no right to bully Roman for his name when he was called Mitchell), the better.

Roman rushed out into the hall and hyper focused on the schedule in his hands. World history, room 203. The next floor down.

Roman was so occupied in trying to find a flight of stairs, he didn’t notice the kid trying to catch up to him.

***

The rest of Roman’s day wasn’t half as eventful as his first bell. History class had a chill teacher, which was nice, then next was his strength training class. His teacher was a little confused when he showed up but was happy to have Roman on board. He seemed very strict with his class rules though, and Roman hated that considering one of his rules was they had to change into gym clothes. Which meant Roman had to wear gym shorts.

…Well, guess he’d have to get used to wearing multiple pairs of boxers again.

Besides that, he also got lost on his way to sculpture, so he showed up ten minutes late telling this random teacher he was her student now. At least she didn’t seem bothered. After that, they all went to the sophomore assembly where they were told the school rules and updates, which Roman’s pretty sure he was the only kid who actually listened. Then, after the assembly, Roman went to the cafeteria to eat a lunch that Patton packed him. He hadn’t actually brought a packed lunch to school in years, so the sentiment was…strange.

Not that Roman would complain about an edible lunch, though.

Roman looked around the cafeteria for a place to sit. The place was starting to become crowded as more students got out of line for buying lunch, so Roman needed to find a spot fast. It’d be easier if he made a friend to sit with, but after the morning Mitchell incident, Roman hadn’t cared to try again in his other classes.

That’s when Roman spotted him. A kid with thick glasses eating a fruit cup as he worked on some papers next to him, completely ignoring the world to finish some homework. Roman wasn’t exactly close with his foster brothers, but hey, maybe Logan could prove himself a little useful. He had to be lonely too, right?

Roman took his chance and sat across from Logan. Logan didn’t look up from his papers. “Hey there, nerd!”

Logan glanced an eye toward Roman. He focused back on his work. “Hello.”

“How’s your first day of high school going?”

It took Logan a solid minute before he responded. “It’s going alright. I got unlucky with a teacher of mine, who already gave us a homework packet for the week, so I’m trying to get a head start on it.”

“Really? What teacher?”

“Mr. Owens, he’s the more strict teacher of the two that teach medical technology.”

Roman’s eyes widened. “Medical technology? That’s a class here?”

“Yes. I had to do a lot of things last year to get into it, however. It’s part of the intensive medical learning path. However, the extra work is necessary.”

“…Right. What other classes are you in?”

“Advanced biology, advanced geometry, advanced English, medical tech as I just mentioned, German 2, health, and painting.”

Roman tilted his head to the side. “Wait, I thought most of those were sophomore classes?”

“And I took freshman classes my eighth grade year. Your point?”

Roman blinked. “…Fair enough.”

Roman brought out his own sandwich and ate it in awkward silence. Logan seemed so focused on his paper that he wasn’t saying a word, and trying to spark conversation with him when he was like this was next to impossible. He felt like he was intruding by sitting next to Logan, the air feeling thick for a reason Roman couldn’t quite place. Once he finished his sandwich, Roman had enough.

“I think…” Roman said, “I’m going to sit…somewhere else.”

Logan didn’t react. “Alright.”

Roman stood up and awkwardly shuffled to an empty spot at a table on the other side of the cafeteria, placing down his lunch box and trying again. Well, he thought as he opened up a cheese stick wrapper, better get used to being alone, then.

“Hey, excuse me?”

Roman looked up at the voice while he was mid-bite. It was the same kid who scolded Mitchell back in his English class, tired circles under their eyes and a gray sweater on despite it being August. Though, Roman had been freezing in most of his classes today, so maybe this person had the right idea.

“Oh- I’m sorry, were you sitting here?” Roman asked.

“No, you’re fine, I just…” The kid looked side to side anxiously. “…Mind if I sit with you?”

“…Oh! No, I don’t mind at all.”

The kid smiled and set their lunchtray across from Roman. “Thanks. I’m Elliott by the way, they/them pronouns.”

Roman’s brain took a minute to process what they meant. “Uh, hello! I’m Roman…he/him?”

Elliott seemed to get happier when he said that. “Nice to meet you. How’s your first day been so far? Besides for you-know-who this morning.”

Roman laughed. “Well, aside from that uncalled for mess, it’s been quite normal. I got lost a few times, but that’s not new for me. My teachers seem quite alright so far.”

“That’s good to hear. We have a lot of good teachers, I think, unless they teach calculus, then they have some serious issues. But so long as you don’t act like an idiot it’s easy to get past those teachers.”

“I’ll keep that in mind! Hopefully I stay on this hot streak, though.” Roman took out a water bottle from his lunch and started to drink it. “But it’s the students I’m more worried about. They all seem so off on their own. Or just outright rude like that guy this morning.”

Elliott groaned, leaning his head on his hand and slouching. “I’m really sorry about him. He can be a huge jerk for no reason. I think he’s just itching for a fight.”

“You seem to know him quite well. Old friend or something?” Roman asked.

Elliott groaned again. “…He’s my ex.”

“…No offense to your type or anything, but…ew.”

“Oh no, yeah, dating him was definitely an ew,” Elliot sighed. “We broke up like, four times in the span of a year and a half. It was a mess. Eventually, over the summer I broke up with him for good. I think he’s still upset about that and taking it out on the first easy target he finds. That, and he’s a jerk.”

“Well, he’ll soon learn I’m not one to be described as an easy target.” Roman gave a cocky smile and posed.

The bell sounded off again, and all the students stood up from their tables and started to swarm the trash cans and cafeteria exits. Roman and Elliott gave each other a look as they also stood up.

“So…what class do you have next?” Elliott asked nervously.

“Let’s see…” Roman pulled out the schedule from his pocket and looked at it. “Advanced biology with Mr. Weber.”

Elliott’s eyes lit up. “Me too! Uh…wanna walk together then? I can show you where it is.”

Roman smiled. “Of course!”

The two kids headed down the stairs, talking more and laughing long after they sat down in the class and the bell rang. Roman continued to whisper to Elliott during class until the teacher gave them both a warning glance, shutting their mouths but smiling at each other.

Even as Roman tried to pay attention, he felt a weight lift from his chest.

He’d obtained a friend after all!

***

The entire bus drive home, Roman spent it texting Elliott’s number that they’d given him right after biology ended. He talked about his last two classes and listened to Elliott ramble about his bad luck with classmates this year, grinning to himself with his eyes glued to his screen until his stop came. Virgil banged his fist on Roman’s seat to get his attention, making him jump and stand up to get off with Virgil and Logan.

During the walk home, no one said anything. Roman was off in his own world and Virgil just looked tired, with Logan staring intently at his own shoes as he walked. Virgil unlocked the door for them all to come inside, and they all branched off into their different directions. Virgil got a snack from the kitchen while Roman and Logan ran up to their rooms.

Roman spent a lot of his time in his room now that he’d gotten the curtains around his bed. Lying there was a lot softer than hiding on the bathroom floor with his legs propped up, and Roman was still confused as to how he managed to get away with installing this. He’d have to make sure Patton never entered his room again in case he planned to rip the curtains off their hooks.

He’d have to make a plan to effectively keep him out.

But for now, Roman actually needed to talk to Patton as soon as possible. He needed to ask for gym clothes, since that was the only thing Roman still needed to get for class, and he wanted to get it over with so Roman wouldn’t need to keep worrying about it. He was almost certain Patton had come home half an hour ago, but Roman just ignored him and stayed in his room. But he had to take advantage of the fact that he was remembering to ask for the clothes, so there was no time like the present to go find him.

Roman hopped out of bed and exited his room, making his way downstairs to the living room. He figured Patton would be either watching TV or doing something in the kitchen, but when Roman looked around, he didn’t see him anywhere. Virgil was sprawled across the couch on his phone, but no one else was around. Roman put his hands on his hips.

“Where’s Patton?” He asked Virgil.

Virgil didn’t look up. “Upstairs. In his room I think.”

Roman groaned and stomped back upstairs. He hated going into an adult’s room, so he instead opened the door and poked his head in so he wouldn’t have to step inside. But before he could get a word out to Patton, Roman stopped himself.

Patton was sitting on his bed with the lights dimmed, his back resting in the headboard, but what shocked Roman was that Logan was there also. He had his face hidden in Patton’s neck as Patton rubbed his back and played with his hair, holding him tight to his chest while Logan sniffled. Roman had never seen Logan emote before, so watching him cry was…disturbing. Roman wanted to run over and rip Logan from Patton to protect him.

Patton looked at Roman in the doorway and smiled. “You gotta remember to knock before entering, kiddo. What do you need?”

Roman forgot the main reason he came here. “Is Logan okay?”

Patton looked down at Logan and whispered something in his ear. Whatever Patton said, Logan agreed with a quiet nod of his head. Patton rubbed at Logan’s neck in a way that made Roman’s skin crawl as Patton began to speak. “He’ll be okay, kiddo. He’s just a little overwhelmed from school today. Do you need anything?”

Roman took a step inside Patton’s bedroom. It made his whole body shift into fight or flight, but he couldn’t leave Logan alone with him in good conscience. “I just wanted to say I need to buy gym clothes by next Wednesday. I’m in a strength training class this semester.”

Patton smiled. “That’s fine, we can go shopping this weekend.”

Roman looked down at the floor. “Well…I was more thinking, like…I go into the store while you wait in the car.”

Patton raised an eyebrow at him. “I need to buy the clothes, kiddo.”

“You can just give me the money. I’ll stay within the budget and give you any left over, so…please?”

Patton’s face dropped a little, but he didn’t get angry, so Roman considered that a win. “Sure, kiddo. We’ll do that Sunday.”

Even after the conversation seemed to end, Roman still stood near the door, shifting on his feet awkwardly. Patton shifted his eyes between Logan and Roman as if he was analyzing both of their mental states, but Roman’s throat felt stuck as he tried to bring out the words he wanted to say. He was so scared, but he couldn’t force himself to ask the question he knew he needed to ask now. Yet his feet refused to make a run for it out the door despite his fear.

“Do you need something else, kiddo?” Patton lightly prompted. Roman attempted to swallow the rock he felt in his throat.

“Can I…Can I stay with you and Logan?” He hated it, but he had to do it. He didn’t know what Patton would try when Logan was vulnerable.

Patton looked down at Logan, and Logan nodded. Patton turned to smile again. “You can if you want, Logan doesn’t mind.”

Roman carefully walked to the other side of the bed, sitting as far as possible from Patton but keeping his eyes glued to Logan. He knew he wasn’t helping much, not saying a word and not even being close, but it was something Roman had to do. Just because him and Logan weren’t close didn’t mean he’d leave him in danger. Even if Roman felt stuck in his head and couldn’t find the power to move his arms.

Roman sat there for a while, watching Logan’s chest rise as Patton rubbed his back. It felt like ages before Logan’s chest slowed and he fell asleep on top of Patton, somehow not caring at all about being asleep in Patton’s presence. Roman’s heart ached for him. He was too trusting and innocent for his own good.

“I gotta do some chores,” Patton whispered, “So I’m gonna tuck him in and let him nap. Do you still wanna stay with him?”

Roman nodded, not being able to get the words out himself. He felt stuck as Patton lifted Logan up gently, petting his hair to soothe him when he stirred. Roman helped by tugging the covers back from his end of the bed so that Patton could tuck him in and let go of him sooner, his hand on the back of Logan’s leg making Roman anxious. Patton tucked Logan under the covers and watched his reaction. After a few seconds, Patton grabbed a squishy stuffed frog from his bedside table, handing it to Logan who curled around it in his sleep. It’d be cute if Roman wasn’t so worried.

“Tell me if anything happens, okay kiddo?” Patton said right as he was halfway out the bedroom door. Roman nodded, only finally relaxing after Patton left and slowly closed the door. 

Roman immediately ran over to lock it. He didn’t have his security bar, but this would be good enough. Hopefully Patton wouldn’t test anything when he knew Roman would be by Logan’s side.

Despite all of Roman’s worries, Logan slept peacefully on the bed. He didn’t shift or seem distressed at all, just snuggling closer to Patton’s stuffed frog and resting. Logan was calm.

Roman sat on the floor to block the door and watched to make sure no one took that away from him.

[mrs-gucci]

A Different Kind of Urgent {Charlie Barber x Reader}

author’s notes: hellooooo! my penpal friend, a fellow adam driver rat, sent me a print of a charlie picture (that I’d seen a gajillion times before, mind you) and for some reason, I thirsted hard. so, naturally, I wrote a fic inspired by the picture. the reader in this story is a college professor, but it doesn’t really contribute to any ‘essential’ parts of the story (aka the smutty parts). it’s just her job lol

warnings: smut. some fluff. masturbation. semi-public smut. the sending of nudes (well, lingerie pics, to be specific). charlie’s dad outfits™️. cigarette smoking during sex. uhh tennis shoe kink??

(possible) tw’s: semi-public sex. semi-public masturbation. tobacco use (as is canon for Charlie’s character). implied age gap (everyone’s over 21, no more than 10 years).

You’re in the middle of class when Charlie texts you. Your phone buzzes and buzzes on your desk so much so that you have to stop your lecture for a few seconds, worried that something urgent has happened.

Well, something did happen, and it was pretty urgent, but not exactly in the way you’d expected.

-Charlie: I know you’re teaching class right now kid.- -Charlie: But I need you.- -Charlie: Right now.-

A shiver runs down your spine as you read his words on the screen.

-Y/N: I’ve got like 45 more minutes of lecture, baby, I can’t.-

He growls under his breath, cock straining in his tan khakis.

-Charlie: Fuck.- -Charlie: Can you send me a picture? Just need to see your pretty body, kid.-

-Y/N: Say please, Charlie.-

Charlie groans in sexual frustration, hips bucking up in his desk chair.

-Charlie: Jesus fucking christ, fucking brat. PLEASE! PLEASE send me a picture!-

You smirk, picking out one of the lingerie photos you’d taken when you were home alone one night. You’ve been waiting for the right time to whip them out and...well, this seems like the right time.

-Y/N: Attachment 1 image- -Y/N: Knock yourself out. Take a picture when you’re done, and I’ll be over as soon as class is finished.-

His shaky hands scramble to type in his phone passcode and click on your message, a strangled moan leaving his lips at the picture you chose. He’d never seen this one before, never seen this set of lingerie before.  He unbuckles his belt and almost tears the button clean off his khakis as he pulls his cock out, tip already red and drooling with precum. 

Before he starts anything, he quickly runs over to his office door, locking it to keep anyone from walking in. 

His navy cardigan suddenly feels almost suffocating and he sheds it without hesitation, unbuttoning his dress shirt and parting it, revealing his undershirt. 

Wait...you want a picture. Fuck.

An idea comes to him and he whimpers, equal parts aroused and nervous about giving it a try. God he hasn’t touched himself since the divorce proceedings, just needing to blow off some fucking steam, but you’ve reignited his sexual passion, overwhelmingly so, and seemingly even more than before. Maybe even more than ever, if he’s honest with himself.

He feels like a teenager again, both completely smitten with you while at the same time incredibly horny for you.

Charlie stands up on shaky legs and shoves all the paperwork off his desk, clearing a roomy spot right in the center. He bites his lip as he props his phone up on his desktop computer with the picture of you pulled up. Jerking off with just his hand wouldn’t be enough this time around, a small part of him just knew it. He needs to fuck you, fuck something.

He positions his hands around the edge of his desk, leaving his thumbs right at the top, putting them in a wonky sort of ‘o’ shape. He adjusts so that the sharp edge is pressing against his palm before experimentally thrusting his length forward into the hole he’s created with his thumbs, immediately groaning in pleasure. 

“O-Oh, kid.”

He whispers, picking up a slow thrusting rhythm, eyes squeezed shut as he imagines your pussy.

“Such a good little pussy, my good f-fucking girl.” A line of sweat has already begun forming on his forehead as he moves a bit quicker, growling wildly with each thrust. He’s embarrassingly close already. “God, j-jesus fucking christ, gonna make me cum so f-fast, kid. I’m already s-so close, damnit.”

His hips grow desperate, bucking erratically into his grip. The drag of his cock against the faux wood surface feels absolutely incredible, and he barely even hears the desk begin to groan and shift against the floor of his office, too consumed with his impending orgasm.

“Yeah, you ready? Y-You fuckin’ ready for my big fat--fuck!--load in this pretty little--shit!--k-kitty?”

Just hearing him say the word aloud, his nickname for your cunt, has him cumming within moments. His vision blacks out for a second as his hips rut forward, a seemingly continuous stream of warm white cum painting his desktop. 

“Ahhhhh, fuuuuuuuck.”

He has to bury his mouth into his shirt arm to hide the cries that come from him, eyebrows knitted at the center of his forehead. His breathing is heavy as he begins coming down from his high, eyes flitting open and looking down at the mess he’d made. 

His load had gone across the entire width of his desk, and his eyes widened for a moment as his brain somehow comprehended to grab his phone and take a picture of the spread. 

-Charlie: Attachment 1 image- -Charlie: Come straight to my office when you get to the theater.-

You take a quick peek at the message from Charlie as your students pull out their workbooks, jaw dropping when you open the picture full-screen. Holy shit, he really did need it.

-Y/N: You sure you still have enough to fill me up with when I get there?-

-Charlie: I always have enough for you, kid. Gonna have it leaking out of you when you leave.-

You chew your lip, thinking of a quick yet clever response.

-Y/N: Is that a promise?-

He groans under his breath, chuckling lightly with a small smile.

-Charlie: Absolutely. Can’t wait to see you, kid.-

-Y/N: I’m excited too. I’ll be there in 20.-

The twenty minutes it takes for you to finish class and walk over to Exit Ghost feels like some of the longest in Charlie’s life, knee bouncing impatiently and eyes glued to the door. He twirls the Marlboro package in his hand, the clock behind his desk tick-tick-ticking the seconds away. 

Finally, a soft knock comes and, just in case it isn’t you, he stuffs the carton into his pocket. “Come in.”

Your head pokes through the door and you smile at him as you walk in, shutting and locking the door behind you. You immediately notice his outfit, specifically his shoes, which are propped up on his desk. 

He knows that you like how he dresses, especially when he dresses very dad-like. And those sneakers he has, the white ones with the blue lines on them...god, they drive you absolutely crazy and you have no idea why.

Your bags are quickly shoved off your shoulder by the impatient director, pulling you into his body as his lips attack yours fiercely. He notices the way you’re eyeing his outfit, and it’s then that he realizes what shoes he has on, the pair that you like so much. Oh, he could use that.

His grip on the meat of your hips tightens increasingly as the kiss heats up, lips eventually moving down to your neck. 

“Well, hello to you too.”

You say, laughing softly.

“Mmmm,” He hums onto your skin, lips littering kisses and small nibbles everywhere they can reach. “I missed you, kiddo, feels like forever since we’ve had time for something like this.”

Charlie’s large body presses you up against the door, hands eager to rid you of your pants. He quickly yanks them down to your ankles, fingers finding your clothed folds.

“I’ve got a staff meeting at two, baby. We h-have to be kind of quick...sorry.” You breathe, hand wrapping in his hair, tugging at the silky raven locks.

A small and slightly disappointed sigh leaves his lips, but nothing more is said on the matter. His movements do become a bit more rushed, though, digits dipping beneath the fabric to shove up into your entrance. 

Your legs spread instinctively, knees shaking as he finger-fucks you, thick digits scissoring inside you to prepare for his girth. Meanwhile, you try to focus on getting his belt and pants undone, but it’s awfully hard when his fingers feel so damn good.

He pulls away suddenly, sucking the juices off his fingers as his hungry eyes roam your figure. The carton of cigarettes presses against his thigh and he smirks, pulling his digits out with a lewd pop.

Charlie suddenly pulls you off the door, putting himself in your spot instead. He smirks, fingers running under your chin, keeping your head tilted up at him.

“Will you go open the window for me please, beautiful?”

You nod, rushing over to push it open, then come back over to stand in front of him.

“Good girl. Thank you.”

His pointer finger twirls and points to the floor while the other hand grabs the pack and lighter from his pants pocket.

“Now, turn around and bend over right here, hold your ankles or feet, or whatever.”

As you position yourself accordingly, he leans back against the door, legs spread and sneaker-clad feet planted on either side of you, right within your line of vision. He’s almost fully hard again already as he moves to free his cock from its khaki confines, undoing his pants just enough to have it out. 

Again, his cardigan feels suffocatingly hot, so he quickly pulls it off and tosses it away. He rolls the sleeves up on his button-up, a sight that makes your insides clench.

He jams a cigarette between his teeth, jaw clenching when he looks up and realizes that you’re bent over for him, in just the way he asked. Your glistening pussy’s on full display as you wiggle your ass a bit, his cock bobbing and twitching with excitement. 

“Oh kid, you’re dripping.” Charlie whispers, almost to himself, hand kneading one of the globes of your ass.

You chuckle softly. “Hey, baby? As much as I love hearing and feeling you, my legs are getting kinda tired.”

Laughing, Charlie says a quick ‘sorry’ before holding and pulling your hips back, lining himself up with your soaked entrance. He pulls you back some more, impaling you on his cock, head falling back against the door as he does so. 

His hands shakily ignited the small flame on his lighter, bringing it up until the tip of the cigarette turned orange before flipping the cap back on and shoving it back in his pocket. He takes a long drag, groaning on the exhale. 

He keeps one hand on your hip while the other spreads out on your lower back, guiding you back and forth over his shaft slowly, gently.

“Thaaat’s it, just like this, kid.”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, the impossibly deep angle created with this new position has it feeling like he’s reaching into your guts. Plus, with the natural up-curve of his cock, he’s brushing all the right spots inside you.

“C-Charlie…”

The familiar and comforting scent of Charlie’s cigarettes fills your nostrils, a haze of smoke surrounds your joined bodies. He continues to move you up and down on his length, buttocks clenching as his hips naturally rock forward, burying himself to the hilt each time you sink down.

“God...jesus christ...love this little pussy of yours, kid.” He breathes through his gritted teeth. “Taking me so nicely, always wrapped around me so goddamn tight.”

You quickly begin moving yourself up and down his stiff rod, bouncing as fast as you can manage. The sweet burn in your thighs only grows more prominent with each passing second, but you don’t care, too consumed in pleasure.

“Mmmmmyyyeah, baby, all for you.”

His hand comes down on your ass, giving it a firm smack before taking another quick drag, exhaling through his nose.

“That’s f-fucking right, all mine. You love being a little slut for this cock, huh? I know you do, you love when I bring you in my office and fuck your pretty cunt in the middle of the goddamn work day, can’t even wait until I get home, this f-filthy slut cunt needs to be split open and stuffed nice and full. Can’t go one fucking day without my cum fucked in you, always needs to be filled up and leaking, hm?”

Charlie was never able to do stuff like this or talk to Nicole like this. She was pretty vanilla when it came to sex, just like to be fucked quietly in bed. He called her a ‘slut’ once and she almost cried, lecturing him for half an hour afterwards on how disrespectful it was.

But now, he gets to explore everything he hasn’t gotten the chance to with you. You love it all, love the way he talks filth in your ear, calls you naughty names. You love getting fucked in all sorts of places, which at first made him a little nervous, cheeks and the tips of his ears bright red when you asked him to fuck you in your classroom or finger you under your dress on the subway. But, after almost a year and a half together, you can safely say that he’s a full-on exhibitionist deviant.

Your walls clamp down around him, eyes still squeezed shut as you feel his hips begin to thrust forward. Soon, he holds you almost completely still, moving his hips as fast as he can. His cigarette is almost ashes at this point, and he kicks himself for not thinking of a good disposal plan beforehand.

“Oh baby, oh baby...f-fuck!” You whine, hips squirming and gyrating as your impending orgasm grows closer. “Y-Yeah, I love it, love everything you do to me. Wanna take every s-single fucking drop of your cum, Charlie, want it inside me, want it dripping down my thighs.”

He almost loses his mind over your comments, drilling into you at an impossibly hard and fast rate, the lewd slapping squelching sound of your hips colliding overwhelmingly prominent in the space around you. 

“You’ll go back to work with so much cum shoved into you, make you sit through your stupid fucking meeting with my cum dripping out of you. B-Better hope no one notices, huh? Better hope your boss doesn’t find out what a good little cockslut you are, how much you love having a pussy-full of your boyfriends f-fucking cum.”

A few muted cries leave your lips as he pounds you harder, his own words spurring him on. He can feel your walls pulsing around him, a sure-fire sign that you’re about to cum. 

“C-Charlie! Charlie, I...I’m close.”

“K-Know you are, kid, I know you are. You’re doing so f-fucking well for me, Y/N, squeezing my big cock like a fuckin champ.” Charlie growls, quickly tossing his spent cigarette in a coffee mug on a nearby table. “And now you’re gonna rub your little clit and cum for me like I know you want to. C’mon, kid, wanna feel you come undone around me.”

You quickly begin rubbing your clit and, despite the odd angle, it brings you right up to the edge. You just need something, just a little something, to push you over the edge. Your eyes flutter open to look up at him, but then, you’re met with the sight of his sneakers.

“Goddamnit!” You’re cumming almost instantly, flooding his shaft with your release. “Yes! Oh god, yeah, c-cumming for you baby!”

His hips keep pumping, taking you right through your climax before abruptly coming to a halt when they’re buried as deep inside you as they can possibly be. His eyes go wide before squeezing shut, a guttural groan ripping through his chest as he pumps and shoves his thick creamy load into you.

“T-Take it, f-filthy whore!” He groans, rutting his hips the whole way through, making sure every drop is put inside you.

Once he’s finished, having ridden out his high to its fullest, he tucks himself back into his pants before helping you stand back up. He holds you close, looking down at you with a bright, genuine smile. 

“You’re amazing, incredible...just so perfect.” He kisses all over your face before landing on your lips.

Your cheeks heat up at his compliments, hands weaving through his hair as the kiss deepens. 

Suddenly, someone knocks on your office door, jiggling the doorknob.

“Charlie?”

His eyes fly open and he pulls away. Shit.

“Yeah, I’m h-here, just give me a minute!”

You quickly pull your pants up and jump under his desk to hide just as he opens the door, running a hand through his hair. 

He talks to the person on the other side of the door in a rushed voice, answering their multitude of questions before quickly shutting the door, sighing as you crawl out from under the desk. 

“At least we both got to cum, unlike last time.” You walk up and put your hands on his pecs, rubbing them over the fabric. “I gotta get going though, baby. I wanna grab lunch from the deli before my staff meeting.”

Charlie nods, dipping his head down to kiss you one last time, nuzzling his large nose against yours. 

“Come over tonight, though? Nicole’s in town and she’s got Henry, so we’ll have the house to ourselves. I feel like we haven’t spent any quality time together lately.”

Nodding, you smile. “I would love to come over. I’ll text you when I get home.”

“Great.” He smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll see you later, kid. Have a good meeting.”

You laugh as you grab your bag and head out, turning back to wave and flash him a soft smile.

“See you tonight.”

[teenwolffan-with-nolife]

Mistakes

Word Count: 1,713

Characters: Derek Hale, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Reader, OC Characters

Pairings: Eventual Derek Hale x Reader

Warnings: ANGST, Derek being an asshole, TW: drugs, overdose, death

A/N: this will have mulitple parts, either 2 or 3, so nothing too long lol

Masterlist

“I don’t care! Keep looking!” Derek paced around the loft, while Stiles and Scott sat on the couch, bounding their legs nervously. Allison, Lydia, and Isaac were out with Argent, all looking for you. 

“People don’t just disappear,” Stiles shook his head.

“Yeah, no shit,” Derek replied.

“Okay, just think. What did she do all day? Did she go anywhere o-or something? Has anyone seen her all day?” Scott asked.

“She was with you guys last. Her phone’s right here,” Derek held up your phone, before exhaling harshly.

“Maybe it’s time to tell your dad, Stiles. He can help us,” Scott suggested.

“Maybe I should, yeah,” Stiles got out his phone, before hearing the loft doors open. 

The three of them froze, looking at the door cautiously as you stood in front of them. 

“What’s going on?” you frowned slightly.

“What’s going… What’s going on!?! Everyone has been looking for you for the whole day! Where the hell were you?” Derek yelled at you.

“I was on a hunt, I-I forgot my phone, I meant to text you-” you started.

“Stiles, Scott, get out. Now,” Derek clenched his jaw as he kept his glare on you.

The two boys nervously stumbled out of the loft, not wanting to leave you alone with Derek.

“Did you not think it was important to let someone know where you were?’ his voice was calm, but the anger was still evident in his face.

You hated when he would act like this. Ignore you for 40 percent of the time, yell at you for 60. You had grown tired of it.

“I forgot,” your voice was low.

“We wasted the entire day looking for you,” he crossed his arms.

“And I never told you to look for me. If you’re just gonna get mad at me, then I’d like to go now,” you replied.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that? If I had it my way, you wouldn’t be in the pack. You’re less important than Stiles,” you always felt hurt by his words, yet never showed any emotions.

“Yeah, I’m unbelievably useless, as you keep reminding me,” you sighed.

“I don’t understand why you can’t just…” you cut him off, before running your fingers through your hair.

“Why I can’t just listen? Why I can’t just stop being useless? I’m a fucking mistake and you keep reminding me every single second you get. Don’t you think I know by now? If I could change, I would. You refuse to give me the bite and so does Scott. I’d leave Beacon Hills if I could, leave instead of forcing you all to live with the burden of knowing me,” you were already exhausted from your day, and Derek pushing your buttons didn’t help one bit.

“I never said that,” he started.

“You don’t have to. I see the way you look at me, I see the way you all look at me. I have nothing more to say to you, Derek, so if you don’t mind, I’m going home,” he stayed silent while you walked out of the loft. You felt a tear fall down your face before wiping it away, heading back home.

---

“Mom, I’m home,” you placed your bags aside as you pulled off your jacket.

You walked up the stairs, kissing your younger brother’s forehead.

“How’s Mom?” you asked him.

“She said she was feeling better but I don’t believe her,” he replied.

“Thanks for being a strong kid and looking after her while I was gone,” you gave him a small smile before patting his back.

“Go eat your dinner, I’m gonna go check up on Mom,” you said, before making your way up to her room.

“Mom?” she was sitting up in her bed, holding a cigarette in her hand.

“Mom! You can’t have those!” you yanked it out of her hand, throwing it aside. 

“Why not? I feel fine,” you could see dark bags under her eyes, while her skin was visibly paler than earlier that day.

“Did you take something?” you asked.

“What do you mean?” she shook her head.

“I’m talking about drugs, Mom! Did you take any drugs?!” you yelled.

“That’s none of your business,” she crossed her arms.

“Except it is. Do you not remember what happened last week?” you scoffed.

“Last week was a mistake, it’s different now,” you shook your head, remembering her near overdose.

“No, it’s not. You need to get clean, Mom. For yourself, for Sam. Are you forgetting who found your body in the bathroom?” you ran your fingers through your hair as you sighed, thinking of your brother

“Sam should have left with his father,” your mom scoffed.

You felt chills go down your spine, at the mention of your dad.

“Well, Dad’s gone, and he’s an asshole. Mom, please. I need you to start taking care of yourself. I already dropped out of college and I can barely keep us afloat,” you begged her.

“You only started college a month ago,” your mom frowned.

“Yeah, I know. But our family is more important. When we’re stable, I’ll start college again. But in order to do that, you need to promise me, no more drugs,” you said.

Your mom nodded her head before you wrapped your arms around her. You could hear her snoring within a few minutes while you chuckled softly, slowly putting her back in bed before flipping off her lights.

You frowned, feeling your neck and arm bugging you from the hunt, before you rubbed your eyes, yawning.

“(Y/N/N)... I need some help with my homework,” you heard your brother’s voice as you held in a groan.

“Sure, kiddo, Come on,” you led him to your room, before closing the door, making sure not to awake your mother.

---

“Scott, you’re joking,” you exclaimed.

“We called partners like 20 minutes ago! You weren’t here and no one picked Derek,” Scott groaned.

“Yeah, and for good reason. I don’t understand why I can’t be by myself,” you shook your head.

“Because it’s dangerous,” Scott said.

“It’s a vampire!” you exclaimed.

“Exactly!” Scott replied.

You squeezed your fists before exhaling sharply. 

“Fine, where’s the douche-bag?” you sighed before Derek walked to you, rolling his eyes.

“Well, let’s go then.”

---

You rolled your eyes, visibly bored as you and Derek sat in silence. The two of you sat in the car, waiting for any suspicious activity while you watched people walk in and out of the restaurant.

You turned on the radio, before Derek pushed your hand away, turning it off. You glared at him, before taking out your phone.

“Get off your phone,” he said.

“I’m bored,” you replied.

“And we’re on a stakeout mission. Get off your phone,” he said.

You turned it off, before hearing it ring. He glared at you, while you gave him a look, checking your texts.

You felt your chest aching as unbuckled your seatbelt.

“I have to go,” you said quickly.

“What? Why? (Y/N), you can’t leave me-” he started.

“I’m sorry, I really have to go,” you could feel tears rushing from your eyes as you pushed out of the car before he grabbed your wrist.

You pulled away from him, running off into the night.

---

Your brother sat in a chair at the hospital, bouncing his leg nervously.

“Sam,” his head shot up as you called his name.

He ran to your arms, burying his head into your chest.

“I-It wasn’t… It wasn’t an accident this time,” he cried out.

“What happened?” you bent down to his level, putting your hands on his shoulder.

“W-We were watching… We were watching a movie, a-and then she got up, a-and… she didn't come back,” your brother stumbled with his words, holding in his cries.

“Shh, it’s okay. It's okay,” you wrapped your arms around him tightly, before shutting your eyes tightly.

She was getting better, it has been a week since your conversation with her, and she was trying so hard.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N),” you heard the doctor as he walked towards you.

“I’m so sorry…” their words drifted off as you bit your lip, tears rushing down your face as you held onto your brother tightly, holding in your cries as you shut your eyes tightly.

She was gone. She died.

---

You held onto your brother as the two of you made your way back to your house, biting back a sob.

“H-Here… I need you to… How about you go to y-your room?” you said.

He nodded before walking upstairs. Your body began to visibly shake, while you cried, holding in your sobs so he wouldn't hear you.

You leaned against the table, breathing shakily as more and more tears escaped from your eyes.

You heard loud knocking, banging at the front door as you wiped your face, before opening it.

You were met with Derek’s angered face as he gripped your arms tightly.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” he yelled.

“I-I,” you stuttered.

“No! Shut up! The vamp killed three people before I could do anything! Do you have any idea how big of a mistake you made?! Why did you leave?! What was so important that it couldn't wait till later?!” he yelled.

“I’m sorry,” you started.

“You little…What is wrong with you?!” he yelled.

You pushed him away from you, as you clenched your jaw. He only walked closer to you, before you swing your fist, punching him in the jaw, only angering him more.

His eyes glew red as he pushed you against the wall. You could see his claws coming out of his hand, digging into your arm.

“Derek…” your voice broke.

“(Y/N)?!” you heard Sam crying loudly, standing by the stairs.

Derek’s class retracted, his face softening.

“Who the hell is that?” Derek asked.

“Get the hell away from me! You want me out so bad?! You got your fucking wish! Leave!” you screamed at him.

You punched him back, kicking him out of your house before locking the door behind you.

You fell to the ground, sobs erupting from you while Sam ran to you, burying his head in your lap.

“I-It’s gonna be okay,” you cried softly, running your fingers through his hair.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

[ackerfics]

the parent trap — levi ackerman (iv)

— levi ackerman x female reader (modern au | the parent trap au)

— warnings: angst??? and feels, i think

— summary: after assuming that everything was starting to shift further away from the plan, the people in the ackerman estate found out the identity of the boy mirroring the twin they know so well.

— word count: 8.6k (i know, i had to do it bc it's been so long)

— author's notes: finally, after weeks of not touching this series, i finally updated it. this part is centered around the reveal in levi's side of things. to those who watched the movie, you know things will go down from here. happy reading everyone !!

part one | part two | part three | masterlist

The news that was dropped on Altair last night stole away every ounce of sleep from him.

At first, he felt like everything collapsed on his shoulders. His mum is getting married? In what universe? There wasn’t even a decent man in a five-meter radius around his mother, well, except for her employees at the bridal shop. Nonetheless, all of the men trying to court her were turned down in an instant but why was she getting married to an idiot when he was away from home? The number of times he ran his hand through his hair and wishing everything was perfect can’t be counted on his fingers. First, it was that Cindy woman and now, an unknown man wooing you with serenades and God knows what in London has added himself in the list of pesky outliers. There shouldn’t be outliers in the first place. Throughout the night, Altair made his mind busy by making adjustments in their plan, eyes fixed on the ceiling in concentration.

The next thing he knew, daybreak dripped on his eyelids, peeking through the spaces between his curtains. Altair sat up on his bed and rubbed his eyes free of sleep crust before turning to his alarm clock on the nightstand. A red 9:34 glared at him, telling him he overslept. The boy huffed and plopped himself back on the plush mattress, his pillows swallowing him whole as he tried to give himself more hours of sleep. His five-minute doze was interrupted with a knock on his door. It took everything in him not to shout ‘five more minutes' so he decided to might as well wake himself up by walking to the door and answering the person on the other side.

Petra’s face beamed at him and Altair had to narrow his eyes because Petra’s smile was too bright for his own good. It was like looking too long at the sunrise.

“Good morning, Al!” the redhead greeted him.

“Morning, Petra,” Altair replied, rubbing his eyes again. “I’m sorry I overslept.”

Petra waved him off. “It’s fine. I expected it yesterday since you just came home from camp. You must be so tired. Why don’t you go take a bath and change and come downstairs for some breakfast? I’m sure this will wake you up — I cooked your favorites.” The boy nodded at her suggestion. She tried teasing him by calling his name again, Altair turning around to acknowledge his nanny with a raised eyebrow. “You know, I’d probably oversleep, too, if I were up in the middle of the night making mysterious phone calls from my bathroom. It’s pretty quiet in here at midnight so I think that pretty much exposed you.”

Altair froze at Petra’s inquiring tone, blinking his speechlessness. In an instant, he doesn’t feel sleepy anymore. He scratched his undercut. “Uhm, it was a friend from camp. He just wanted to talk to me, that’s all.”

The redhead hummed as she crossed her arms. “Ooh-kay. Well, your breakfast will be waiting on the kitchen counter!” She shouted while making her way downstairs.

“Okay!” Altair yelled back.

He opened his closet and took out a blue flannel, a white undershirt, and a pair of jeans. Without wasting any more time, Altair got himself ready by taking a bath just as Petra suggested and made himself presentable once he reached the kitchen. His hair was still wet, a towel wrapped around his shoulders when he inhaled the savory smell of breakfast on the first floor. As Altair sat on the high counter stool, Petra turned around from cutting up fruits and placed too many plates in front of the boy with a smile. He couldn’t control the twitch in his eyebrows as he stared at his breakfast. Is his twin really eating this much food every morning? He realized he might be coming off as rude since he was only staring at the number of bacon slices on his plate so Altair took a bite of bacon and let the sound of knives against the cutting board flit through his ears.

“Petra?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I have a cup of rose tea?”

Petra stopped cutting the mangos and stared at Altair, who was immersed in doing small bites of his breakfast. The redhead stared for a moment and assessed the way Altair picked up his fork and knife — it was the same way a certain someone did back in college when Levi’s friend group and lover ate meals together. Now that Petra remembered it; when you gave birth to the twins, she mentioned how one of them inherited the shape of your eyes. It could be a trick of the light but Altair’s eyes were softer in the edges instead of the sharpness Levi adorned, the boy’s eyelashes slightly fuller than usual.

“Petra?”

The said woman jumped at the mention of her name, with Altair’s face scrunched up in worry at her lack of response. She cleared her throat while transferring the mangos in a small bowl, sliding it towards Altair. “Yeah?”

The silver-eyed boy rose an eyebrow. “Are you alright? You look like you were in a trance there.”

“I’m fine.” Petra washed her hands before wiping them dry with a clean towel. Her gaze went from the boy’s expectant stare to his unfinished breakfast. This was weird. Altair usually never leaves any leftovers on his plate, it was what Levi taught him since he could eat on his own. Pushing this matter at the back of her mind, she smiled. “You’re not going to finish that, Al?”

Altair looked down on his half-eaten scrambled eggs, bacon slices, and still full pasta salad. He only had a couple of bites from the last dish and wished he could eat more but the two slices of bacon and scrambled eggs made him full in an instant. His stomach couldn’t handle too much in an early hour. He needed the tea to wash all this down. “No, I’m not, I think I’m full,” he answered, patting his stomach with a grin. He hoped Petra wouldn’t notice that his appetite wasn’t like his twin. That idiot (his twin, never Petra) appeared small like him but the buffoon has a vacuum inside his torso, always hungry at the wee hours of the day. If this was roast beef, this was a different story. “Must be because I’m tired from the trip. I don’t feel like eating and moving around too much.”

Petra nodded in understanding, preparing the rose tea the boy requested. She was waiting for the water to boil as she glanced at Levi’s pride and joy. “So why rose tea?”

“Pardon?”

Pardon? With a suppressed chuckle, Petra turned around with an incredulous expression on her face. “Camp made you prim and proper, huh? So why rose tea, champ?”

“Because I thought it would be nice to try the flower teas instead of the fruit-flavored ones this time. I know Dad has been experimenting with flowers for the next blends.”

Petra hummed, letting the tea steep for a few minutes. The scent of roses immediately wafted across the kitchen, making the two sigh in contentment. Petra wasn’t one for tea but smelling the pink drink made her want to try one. She presented the cup of rose tea to the black-haired boy, who was leaning forward to finally have his drink, his silver eyes sparkling at the small petals floating on top of his tea. Petra knew she was watching Altair closely but all her doubts flew out the window when she witnessed the boy hold the teacup the same way Levi does. Maybe she was looking into this too much. She shook her head and took away the leftovers, placing them in containers.

She missed the way Altair blew out a sigh of relief, a small half-smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

Altair stood up from his seat, patting his lap from imaginary dust and placing the towel from his shoulders to the back of the counter stool. He took a long sip of his tea before grinning widely at his nanny. “Thank you so much for breakfast, Petra!”

“No problem, kiddo. Oh, and your Dad wants to talk to you about something. He’s in his office.”

“Okay!”

The black-haired boy walked past the archway leading to the living room, where the glass double doors to the patio were located. Snuggling on the floor and chewing on his toy was Levi’s golden retriever, Captain. Altair flinched when he saw the dog shift their head in his direction. A series of barks came out of the pet, making the boy hurry for the handles of the double doors. His heart was pounding when he couldn’t get the doors to open, pulling on them as Captain was now standing up to give him another round of barks. It caught the attention of Petra and the woman instantly shot to the living room but not before shouting something that made Altair’s ears turn red of embarrassment.

“Push, Al.” Petra was now wrapping her arms around the dog, eyebrows furrowed with confusion.

Altair stopped for a moment, twisting the handles of the double doors and pushing them just as Petra said. He turned around with a sheepish smile, chuckling nervously because this mistake might have lost him the plan. “Must have slipped my mind.” He had never gotten out of a house that quickly in his entire life.

Only when he stepped foot on the patio that he could breathe normally. Altair kicked a pebble on the pathway, hands snug inside his pockets, as he thought about what his father will tell him. He followed the pathway until he was met with a slope, a building looking the main estate was sitting on top of the small hill overlooking the plantation. With a bundle of nerves swirling in his stomach, Altair took a deep breath and trekked the hill. The higher he got, hectares of a variety of tea trees greeted his vision, mimicking the sea with its vastness. It was the first time he saw something so wide and before he knew it, questions started entering his mind.

If the Ackerman family held so much money, why did his grandparents make his mum go back to London? Why did they take away the only person who made her feel loved in every sort of way possible? She could’ve been happy here. Everything is so soothing and secure.

The sound of people talking snapped him back to reality. Altair shook his head and continued his small walk towards the building. It looked like there was more activity in here than he imagined. People were sorting out the tea leaves they harvested and others were manning a machine meant for grounding the leaves. It was so busy that he didn’t realize he stopped in front of the huge window showing all of the employees trying to keep Levi’s business booming.

A person rounding the building noticed his gawking and smiled a little. They clutched the flowers they picked for the new blends Levi was experimenting on and went to the black-haired boy. “Al, welcome home. I’m sorry I couldn’t be here yesterday to welcome you back.”

The silver-eyed boy turned around to the young woman sharing his features — the same jet-black hair, pale complexion, and shade of silver for the eyes (though hers were more on the bluish side of the spectrum). He tried recalling the family members his brother told him to remember. There was a woman with the same appearance in one of the pictures. She was hugging the Altair she knows, their smiles shining through the piece of shiny paper. She was the older cousin his twin was telling so many stories about since she was the only one closer to his age around the household. The Altair standing in front of her right now smiled, muttering her name, “Mikasa.”

Mikasa returned the smile with her own, sitting on her heels to meet the boy’s eyes. “How was camp?”

“My opponent in a fencing competition pushed me in the washing area of our pavilion.”

Mikasa winced, ruffling the boy’s hair gently. “Why did they do that?”

Altair shrugged, feeling proud of himself for doing that to his twin despite being guilty to this day. “Guess he was better than me at fencing. He has a teacher specifically for that sport back in their hometown.”

“Oh, wow. If you want someone to practice fencing with, I’ll gladly help you.” The young woman tilted her head with a smile. “That is if you want to go back to that camp next summer. I’ll even learn the rules for you.”

The older of the two had so many records in her portfolio. Altair recalled that his brother was gushing about how Mikasa was a part of the track and field team the entirety of her stay in college. She was also a part of a volleyball club when she was in high school. This young woman has everything in her belt and it would be so good if Altair practiced fencing with her. However, he also realized that Mikasa probably had her hands full with academic and familial responsibilities. “But you have your final year in college, though, and you’re so busy in the plantation.”

Mikasa once again tousled Altair’s hair, chuckling under her breath. “Anything for my baby cousin so don’t worry about it.” She looked down at the pile of flowers in her arms. She handed a single red lily flower to Altair. “Here, to brighten up your day.” Mikasa stood up and waved at Altair. “I’m testing these flowers out with some berries, kiddo. I’ll be in the kitchen by the sorting room with Annie. If we can get the right combination, we’ll let you try some. Your dad is in his office waiting for you.” With that, Mikasa turned around but not before ruffling Altair’s hair again.

Altair nodded at nobody in particular and entered the building with a slight skip in his steps. The office was situated on the second floor of the manor-like establishment. The color palette of red and olive green was still observed in the interior but the large, open balcony let in enough light to illuminate the second floor. There was a railing surrounding the middle space of the entire floor, perfect for looking down and observing the bustling life inside the house. Altair’s destination, however, was the door to the left side of the second floor down a painting-covered hallway. He tentatively knocked on the door with his father’s name pinned on it. Altair faintly heard someone call inside the room and opened the door to peek his head in.

Levi was behind his desk, phone close to his ear. “Yes, Erwin. I thought you will be visiting because of Altair today. I see. No problem. You can visit the plantation anytime.” He glanced at the opened door, seeing Altair meekly staring at him. He smiled a little before telling Erwin, “Al’s here. Yeah. The stocks are fine and the new blends are coming out great. Sure, I’ll send you some. Bye.” The silver-eyed man sighed as he placed his phone on the desk. “You can come in, Al. Usually, you just barge in here and wait for me on the couch.” Levi hummed, eyes softening at the sight of his son grinning in front of him.

Altair chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “I thought it was an important call.”

“It was just Eyebrows.”

“Whatever you say, Dad.”

The boy sat on the couch, eyes inconspicuously roaming around the office. He heard the sound of a chair scraping against the floor and Altair looked up to find his dad preparing a cup of tea in the kitchenette installed in the room. He looked away from Levi and shifted his attention to the framed photographs on the desk. Everything wasn’t facing him but there was one frame positioned to face the person behind the desk. Altair craned his neck to get a glimpse of the picture, his eyes going back and forth between the frame and his dad, who was waiting for the tea to steep. With his body draping over the couch and neck stretching as far as he could (the position was starting to hurt), Altair saw that it was a picture of you, his mum. The silver-eyed boy gasped because it was you in a wedding dress.

“Blimey.”

“Al?”

Altair dropped the position with a huff. He straightened himself to face a confused Levi, a tray of two teacups filled with raspberry tea held by his hands. “Thought I could just, you know,” he nervously chuckled, “get a good stretch after oversleeping. So what’s up, Dad?”

Levi hummed, placing the tray on the low table. He sat beside Altair, body facing the little boy as he surveyed the innocent smile plastered on his son as he sipped on his cup of tea, the two of them mirroring how they held their cups. Maybe it was because Al went away for summer camp in the last eight weeks or maybe he was just missing you and your presence in his life, but Levi felt his heart clench at how fast his little boy was growing. The summer camp must be a blessing in disguise because his boy came home with newfound manners and the whole time he was away, he thought hard enough to make a decision he won’t come to regret. Eight weeks was a long time, things are bound to change. So Levi cleared his throat and readied himself in spilling his carefully thought-out plans to his son.

“There’s something really important I want to talk to you about, Al,” Levi started, putting this teacup back on the low table.

“That’s funny because there’s something really important that I want to talk to you about.”

“Yeah? Well, you go first, kiddo.”

Altair shook his head rapidly, gulping down his tea first. “No, you first, Dad.”

“Hmm.” The black-haired man carefully formulated the words in his mind. The first order of business was to cut off any people who would dare hurt his son. Yesterday was just the catalyst in his ongoing debate with Petra all summer to get rid of the publicist leeching off of him. From the look on Altair’s face while he was wading in the pool, Levi figured that Cynthia said something to him that might have shaken his mind. He leveled his gaze with Altair’s and told him, “Okay, I want to talk to you about Cynthia, the hired publicist for the teahouse and plantation.”

The boy turned his body so that he was seeing his father eye to eye. “And I wanted to talk to you about Mom.” Altair furrowed his eyebrows in distaste. “Oh, so Cynthia’s her name. What about Cynthia?”

Levi blinked in surprise. He knew Altair was a smart kid but he didn’t expect him to pick up on things so fast. There was no one in the estate that he shared his current sentiments. Petra was known to be a person not careful enough to keep a secret hidden from Altair and Erwin will most likely tease Levi throughout the day if he revealed his plans. Not to mention that Mikasa will probably indulge his kid in spilling every embarrassing thing about him so that makes his niece out of the list of people worthy enough to be told a secret.

With a calm voice, he regarded his little him with a flat expression. “What about your mom?”

Altair groaned in exasperation. “Dad, I’m almost twelve. I’m at a point in my life to ask about the whereabouts of my mom. You can’t expect me to believe the stork story all my life!”

A slow inhale and a look at the ceiling was all Levi needed to compose himself. “You know what, that is a story for later. But first, we’re going to talk about the publicist. Did she say anything to you? Anything that might have hurt you in any way yesterday?”

One pair of gray eyes looked away from the other to examine the invisible dust gathering on top of the coffee table. Altair wanted to tell Levi that Cynthia was trying to exploit him, trying to wound him in her trap and to make him fall in love with her. But the way that his father was insisting on the topic of Cynthia instead of you didn’t sit right with him at all. To Altair, it looked like Levi was desperate to clean the woman’s name and to make him build a relationship with her when the time comes that she’ll be carrying the Ackerman name. He mentally apologized to his other half across the ocean for not having the strength to continue the plan. Because as he glanced at Levi, the man’s concern apparent on the glint of his eyes, Altair wanted his father to be happy — to love someone without any pain that spanned for more than a decade.

“No, she didn’t say anything to me. She just told me how happy she is to be on the plantation.”

As much as he was scared to be a father when his boys were born, Levi always knew if his son was lying after years of raising Altair alone (with the help of Petra but the nanny will always give him the credit). Right now, however, he couldn’t tell if Al was lying or not. “Al, are you telling me the truth? If not—“

The door burst open, bringing with it an overly dramatic woman. “Levi? Are you here, sweetie?”

Eld followed after Cynthia, his face betraying his aggravation at the woman. “Don’t just enter Levi’s office without permission, Ma’am!”

Cynthia scoffed, insulted at the term. “'Ma’am’?! I’m not that old, employee.”

The blonde man bristled. He tried puffing his chest to remind the publicist that he has more authority than just a last-minute accommodation in the staff, but he stopped when he saw Levi starting to stand up from the couch. He had never seen his boss express anger in his years of being Levi’s secretary, however, the apparent look on the onyx-haired man will probably drive Cynthia more than six feet under the surface. Eld dismissed Cynthia with a roll of his eyes, focusing on the annoyed man walking towards them with terrifying footsteps. “Levi, she just went inside the building. Believe me, we were trying to prevent her from getting her head cut off by you but she wouldn’t listen!” The blonde glared at the woman who was gasping dramatically, manicured hand pressed on her chest. “Levi, you have to believe me. Mikasa even had to—“

“I understand, Eld.” Levi’s voice was uncharacteristically icy. Sure, he was known for being blunt and dismissive at times but that was the man's nature in forming social relationships. The employees were used to him being that way. Right now, though, his glare could have frozen Cynthia in place. “What is this, Miss Maryland? I thought I told you to leave a message to my secretary if you want to have an appointment with me. But I remember telling you that I’m not free this day.”

Cynthia pouted. “But I also told you that I wanted to have lunch with you! Is your job more important than me? Or are you just using that as an excuse to not make time for me?”

Eld looked scandalized at the woman’s reaction while Altair was wincing at the sound of Cynthia’s whine.

Levi was praying for his ears as well, pinching the bridge of his nose to calm himself down. He looked at Altair at the corners of his eyes. “I don’t recall you being on my priority list, Miss Maryland, and I have plans with Al today anyway. Horseback riding.”

“You’re lying!” The woman turned to Altair. “Is this true, Al, darling?”

The boy quickly took note of the hint of desperation from his father’s eyes so he smiled. “Yeah, I’ll be riding Nox since I miss my horse while I was at camp.”

“You heard my kid,” Levi drawled. “Now get out. You’re invading my privacy — sounds fitting for your job.”

Cynthia’s face scrunched in disgust, turning around abruptly, her hair hitting Eld in the face. The blonde man sputtered before incredulously staring at the retreating publicist. There wouldn’t be any need for Mikasa to restrain her if needed since she knew the way out. Eld turned back to Levi and Altair, his face showing how guilty he was. “Levi, I’m really sorry. If I’d known she’ll barge in here like this.”

“No, it’s fine. Thank you, Eld.”

“Alright.” Eld trailed off, shifting his attention from Levi to Altair. He waved at Levi’s son before pointing at the door behind. “Have a great afternoon, you two.”

Levi nodded at his friend, sitting on the couch with a sigh when the door closed. He had to get rid of that publicist, she was starting to become a headache. Levi then felt a small weight on his shoulder. Turning his head to the side, a head of onyx hair greeted his vision. With a small smile, he lifted his arm and wrapped it around Altair, letting him snuggle into his side some more. The two of them cherished the silence as if the room was their haven, away from pesky publicists and the bustling activity a floor below.

Speeding through the plantation felt liberating for Altair. He wanted to raise his arms in the air as they zoomed by the small tea trees but that would mean having Levi being suspicious of him. At first, Altair thought that the predicament with Captain would be the same with Nox but the black beauty of a horse nuzzled his palm affectionately as if he was the real owner. Of course, it couldn’t happen without the help of the sugar cubes laid out on his palm. Now, he was laughing as he raced with his dad, their destination was the hill on the other side of the plantation. It looked like Levi was winning but Altair tried to spur Nox faster. A blur of black reached their landmark, a tree with a swing on it, and Altair whooped at the top of his lungs.

“I won!”

“You always win,” Levi told him, a loving stare directed at his son.

Altair turned his horse to meet Levi’s stare. “I do?”

A confused frown painted the silver-eyed man’s lips.

At that, Altair brightened immediately, realizing his mistake. “I do! Just slipped my mind again. I can’t seem to stop forgetting things. That’s so weird.”

Levi guided his horse to walk towards Altair’s. “Yeah, so weird,” he murmured until he was beside his son. They stared at the plantation with varying expressions. The boy looked so mesmerized at how the sun touched every single tree while Levi blankly surveyed the rows of what brought him to this moment. It was once upon a time when he brought you here during spring break in junior year at college, telling you his dreams of starting a tea plantation. You looked radiant against the sunset, the rays creating a halo that Levi wanted to preserve forever. Altair’s laugh when he won has the same smile as yours when you manage to outrun him in a race. Levi couldn’t help but think of a life with you and the twins here in the plantation and estate, the two boys growing up with each other and with both parents unlike now. The four of you wouldn’t experience the pain brought by the separation. But reality struck him hard when Altair breathed out an expelling sigh, eyes soft around the corners like yours.

“So, Al, do you think we’re lonely?”

The said boy looked at his dad, who was wistfully looking at the plantation like it was hurting him. “I don’t think so.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Altair’s grip on the reins tightened. “Why are you asking this, Dad?”

Levi took a deep breath. “Believe it or not, Al, but I feel lonely every night. The moon and the stars must be tired of my internal monologues to them, all wishing to have a normal night with our complete family. But with Maryland here, there seems to be someone at the back of my head telling me to make a move. You know what, Al, I want—“

“Race you back to the ranch, Dad!”

“What—wait, Al! Hey, slow down, kiddo!”

Tears were starting to blur Altair’s vision as he rode around the plantation. No, the plan wasn’t going to work. His twin brother was a liar when he said he had an amazing and genius plan. Everything was starting to burn in flames and Altair had no choice but to watch it fester until only ashes remain. When he reached the stables, he tied the reins to the post with hurried yet precise knots. And Altair ran and ran. Up the slope leading to the manor, past the building where the workers were happily interacting with another until he felt himself bumping into someone. He brushed off a concerned Mikasa shouting at him to slow down. Minutes later, Levi passed by the fretting young woman, the latter asking if Altair was alright. But the onyx-haired boy finally reached the safe confines of their manor, passing by the opened double doors. He started pacing around the living room.

Altair buried his hands in his hair, his accent coming out as he rambled. “This isn’t going the way he expected it to. Bonkers, this is a mess! I’m just a kid and I couldn’t handle everything at once. Now, Mum’s getting married to a person I don’t know and Dad is tying the knot with Cindy—Cassandra—whatever!” He leaned on the back of an armchair, body slumping on the plush cushion. “And I don’t even know Dad as much as he does. How am I supposed to fix this?”

“What are you trying to fix?” Petra suddenly appeared in the armchair. (She was there all along but she figured that by keeping quiet, she will learn more about why Altair acted strangely since he came home.) The redhead stood up, arms crossed on her chest. “Do you want to share something with the class, Al?”

Altair jumped back, placing a hand on top of his pounding heart. “You gave me a fright, Petra.”

Petra leaned back with an expression of disbelief. “What? Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to talk to me about? If you’re scared of your dad finding out your secrets right now, you can always tell me.” Altair remained silent as he stared wide-eyed at the nanny and housekeeper. “Care to explain to me why Captain doesn’t like you anymore when he has been with you since you were a toddler? Or how you can’t open the doors properly? Even your appetite change this morning. I have so many questions, Al, and it all stemmed from when you came home. Do you know something we don’t?”

The boy shrugged. That didn’t seem to alleviate the suspiciousness he carried. “I just changed over the summer, that’s all.”

Petra slowly took a step forward and tilted her head down to meet Altair’s eyes. “I’m starting to think you were raised …” She shook her head to dispel the thought and turned around to make herself busy in the kitchen. “That’s impossible. Never mind. I must be needing sleep from all these theories.”

“I am raised by who, Petra?”

She waved her hand to dismiss the question. “Forget it, Al. I’m not supposed to talk to you about this anyway.”

“Like I’m raised by [Name] [Last Name]? Like I’m the other half of one pair of twins?”

The redhead tensed at the question, her smile frozen in place. She managed to blink herself outside of her stupor, slowly regarding the onyx-haired boy, who was gradually turning into an image of you. Those eyes, though sharing Levi’s stormy irises, were reminiscent of your kind ones — always appearing as soft as they can be despite the intensity of a present glare. Petra was at a loss for words and she had to clear her throat a couple of times to find her voice. “How do you know her full name? How do you know that you have a twin, Al? How do you know about—?”

“About Caelum?” The boy pursed his lips, forcing himself to smile. He dropped the act because there was no use continuing their charade any further. Besides, this is Petra, the most loyal person from what he could observe during a full day in the Ackerman estate. She reminded him of Oluo, the way they stuck to each parent almost every day. His British accent came out when he said the next words, “That’s because I am Caelum.”

If this wasn’t a serious situation, Caelum would’ve laughed at Petra’s reaction.

“Altair?!”

Levi looked around when he stepped foot on the patio. However, he was surprised at the peculiar scenario welcoming him in the living room — it was as if Petra was looking at his son for the first time in years. The redhead had both hands covering her mouth, tears prickling her eyes, and an expression showing disbelief. He rose an eyebrow in incredulity because nobody paid him any attention. With measured footsteps, Levi placed a hand on his son’s shoulders, making the boy jump a few inches in the air.

“Hey, buddy,” his voice was so soft since his boy looked shaken up just as much as Petra, “why did you take off on me like that? I told you I wanted to talk to you about something.” His son looked up at him with wide eyes so Levi expectantly glanced at Petra. The woman was still silent with that constipated look on her face. “Petra, do you need to take a shit? Why are you looking at Al like that?”

Caelum was breathing heavily, eyes pleading with Petra to let him tell Levi the truth.

With a subtle nod, Petra wiped her eyes and turned to Levi, who had his face scrunched in perplexity. “Like what? I’m not looking at him in a special way.” She shrugged but with one look at the bright-eyed boy beside her friend, her voice started to falter. “I’m looking at him like I’ve looked at him for eleven years. Since the day he came home from the hospital, all wrapped up and squirming for contact with his parents.” Petra looked like she could cry any minute. (Levi was staring at her like she had grown a second head. He was ready to give her a day-off.) “Seven pounds, five ounces, 21 inches long. This is how I look at him.”

Caelum felt himself smile as Petra gestured at him.

“Can I hug him?”

Levi blinked and stayed silent for a second. He lifted his hand from his son’s shoulder and stepped back since Petra wrapped the boy in a tight hug. He felt the back of an armchair behind him, leaning against it with a sigh. “Everybody’s so weird.”

As the woman continued hugging Caelum, she exclaimed, “Oh, he’s so beautiful and he’s grown so much.” The boy nuzzled his head on the crook of his nanny’s neck, a large smile painted on his face.

For once in his life, Levi wanted to sleep the day off. Maybe everything might go back to normal.

Petra pulled away from the hug, wiping her eyes with her sleeves. She pointed at Caelum while trying to control her voice from shaking. “I’m going to make you something special to eat. What do you feel like eating? Anything? You know what?” She waved her hand once she reached the entrance of the kitchen. “I’ll just whip up something from everything we’ve got, okay?” With a last nod and an apologetic smile directed at Levi, Petra went to the kitchen whilst wiping her tears, leaving behind the two Ackermans’.

Now that heartfelt moment ended, Levi knew he had to tell his son what’s weighing on his mind for the past years. All it took were eight weeks for him to steel himself in making a choice he won’t come to regret. If only he had done this when you gave him your back, a baby looking like him snug in your arms and reaching out to a father he won’t come to have. If only he had chased you to London, fighting for your love in front of your parents, promising a life filled with enough luxury for your newfound family. If only he had the strength back then, none of this would’ve happened. So Levi gently directed his son to the couches, sitting in front of the boy on the low table. Their gazes matched each other and it looked like Levi was staring at his younger self.

“We have to talk.” The onyx-haired man’s voice was so soft, matching his visage that was contorted in slight wariness and expectation.

Caelum nodded. “Okay. Shoot, Dad.”

Levi nodded back. “I’ve been thinking about this since you were a toddler and this summer was the only time I could focus on debating with myself on it.” He took a deep breath, his heart thundering in his chest, and his cheeks burning. “Al, I want to get back together with your mom.”

The whole world stopped. Caelum stopped breathing for a few seconds. There was a lack of emotions inside him at first, him just staring like an idiot at Levi. Suddenly, he felt like jumping but that would look suspicious so Caelum abruptly stood up in front of his dad, tingles traveling in every fiber of his body.

“Al?” Levi asked, confused at the constipated look on his little boy.

Bright gray eyes stared back at Levi, Caelum’s grin erasing every doubt in his father’s body. “This is perfect, Dad!”

“It is?” The onyx-haired man trailed off before perking up a little, a small grin tugging his mouth upwards. “Yeah, it is. I decided that I will do everything right this time and have our family back again.” He looked down wistfully on the floor, fingers wringing with each other. He murmured under his breath, “I wonder how Caelum’s doing right now. Will he like me? I’m not exactly awarded with the best father of the year title.”

On the other hand, Caelum heard it and he couldn’t help but grin knowingly. He erased that on his face when Levi looked up at him. “So, Dad, what are you going to do about Cindy?”

“What about the publicist?”

Caelum sat back down, leaning forward to enunciate his next words. “Well, it’s quite obvious that she’s so enamored by you.”

Levi scoffed a disdainful laugh. “Why would she? I’m not interested in her in some way. I don’t even like women her age.”

“That’s the thing, Dad. I heard from her yesterday that you’re planning on telling me something. I figured it would involve her since she suggested it. It might be a different thing than what you told me right now.”

“Oh, that. I decided, with the help of Petra and the other workers, that you will be the face of the tea shop. Since I am not too comfortable with the idea of having my pictures posted on every branch, a majority vote prompted you to do the job. But Mikasa suggested that we also do that by putting you in the new label design. It doesn’t have to have your face on it, just your silhouette. I think Isabelle will do that well enough.”

“So,” Caelum prolonged the word, “you’re not engaged to her, right?”

Levi looked ready to barf his lunch. “What? Where the hell did you get that idea?”

A sheepish smile prevented the laugh that was bubbling in Caelum’s chest. “I tend to overthink at times, Dad.”

The silver-eyed man sighed, running his hand through his hair. “You get that from me.”

“I asked you that because yesterday, she told me you proposed to her because you wanted me to have a mother figure. She even told me you dated because you liked her at first sight. She mentioned that you went horseback riding in the sunset like a typical chick flick pairing and there you confessed that you felt lonely because Mom left you. Oh, I mustn’t forget how you reciprocated her feelings under a moonlit night. Hey, Dad, where are you going? Dad?”

“Don’t mind me, Al, I’m killing a bitch this afternoon and it’s best if you stay put while I do that.”

“Dad?!”

Cynthia Maryland is a fucking menace to society.

It has been so long since Levi met a person who just by talking, brain cells are diminishing at every word they utter. The first one who made him feel this way was a genius, however, they were too much for his social battery. They always hung off of him at times during college all because they were your childhood friend, who followed you to America to make you feel like you had someone in a foreign country back then. That was seen as endearing but this time, it’s fucking irritating. Levi didn’t even have to control himself from showing how much he wanted this meeting to be over.

“Miss Maryland, can you please listen to me for one second?” Levi spat out, the stress coming to him in a migraine.

“I am listening, doll, and I guess those plans with Altair didn’t happen because you have me in your office — doors closed and just the two of us,” Cynthia spoke in a sultry voice that didn’t have any effect on the man slumped on his chair. “I will do anything for you, Mr. Ackerman.”

“Thank God for that.”

Cynthia was over the stars at that statement.

“Because I believe it’s time for your job as my shop’s publicist to be terminated. So I suggest getting out of here.”

“What?!” The brunette all but shrieked.

At the commotion, a knock resonated in the room. “Levi, is everything all right in there?” Mikasa asked. “Do you need me to restrain her?”

“No need, Mikasa,” Levi answered, not looking away from the distressed woman squawking in front of him. “Hey, Maryland, what are you whining about? Didn’t you hear what I just said? You’re fired. What are you still doing here?”

“Pray tell, why are you firing me?! You need me!”

Levi rose an eyebrow. “Why would I need you when I have capable people working on the plantation right now? It was a mistake hiring you. Eld was actually the one who wanted to have a publicist for the tea shops and if my secretary said it would be beneficial to the business, I will always say yes. But I guess he hired the wrong person. As for the question of why I fired you, let’s just say, you were spewing things that weren’t even true. And of all people, you said those things to my son. What are you trying to gain from telling him we’re fucking engaged? Money? My last name?”

The brunette remained silent, angry tears dripping on her cheeks.

“Let me tell you this, Miss Maryland, you’re not worth those things. So if you don’t want me to get fucking angry at you, get the fuck out.”

While the whole debacle with Cynthia was happening in Levi’s office, Caelum was in the kitchen rolling a pin over a chunk of dough. The silver-eyed boy was helping Petra with the afternoon snacks, something that the nanny suggested since Caelum looked bored out of his mind, staring into the high ceiling of the living room while lying on the long couch. Only half an hour passed since Levi stormed into his office, demanding Eld to contact ‘that hysterical fucking woman’, and only two batches of apple turnovers were ready for the oven. There were a lot of workers on the plantation, all of them having big appetites, so Caelum and Petra had a lot of work to do.

Caelum just finished his story of meeting Altair for the first time and his shoulders felt so light after spilling everything out.

Petra pensively gave Caelum a wistful glance. “I’m happy that you two found each other.”

The boy looked up at the redhead. An air of earnest gratitude exuded from her, the idea of two twins reuniting was worth being happy about. Petra wasn’t the only one thanking the moon and stars for granting a request, Caelum felt like his world expanded because of that summer camp. “I am happy, too. I got to meet you, Mikasa, and the workers. I want this stay to last longer than a day but Al and I will eventually go back to our rightful homes.”

“Why are you being sad, kiddo? Didn’t Levi tell you that he’s planning on courting your mom again?”

“That’s the thing,” Caelum mumbled. The dough became too thin to wrap around apple fillings at the force he was pressing down on the rolling pin. He sighed, starting over again. “Mum is engaged to someone in London. I can’t even do anything about it.”

Petra hummed casually. “But Altair can.” Beside her, Caelum once again shifted his attention from the dough to her side profile, making her smile. “One thing I know about Al through the years is that he will do everything to make his plan a success. That brother of yours is a stubborn kid but he’s determined to fulfill his goal, which so happens to be what Levi’s planning, too.” She placed the knife on the cutting board, leaving the apples unattended, and faced Caelum with a half-smile. “How about this, you want to make this a success?”

Caelum nodded.

“Then tell your dad who you really are.”

The boy’s eyes widened. “No!” He looked down, cursing himself for raising his voice at Petra. “I mean, he’ll be mad for sure.”

The redhead chuckled before pointing a ladle at Caelum. “That’s where you’re wrong. Levi was always praying every night to have a glimpse of his other son across the sea. Now that you’re here, you’ll be giving him the happiness he always wanted for eleven years. He deserves to hug you, knowing who you are.”

This is how Caelum found himself standing in front of Levi’s bedroom. It was inevitable anyway — his dad finding out his real identity. Letting out a sigh, Caelum twisted the doorknob with clammy hands, opening the door to the image of Levi reading a book on his bed. The boy smiled when Levi looked up at the sound of the door opening.

Levi took off his reading glasses and smiled. “Hey, kiddo, come in.” He lifted his covers as an invitation for the tentative boy. When Caelum got on the bed, Levi placed his book on the nightstand along with his glasses. For a moment, he only looked at his son with soft eyes as Caelum adjusted the duvet to cover his lap. He pulled him close with an arm around the boy’s shoulders, letting Caelum relax against him. “Did you have a nightmare?” Levi felt his son shake his head. “Is something bothering you?” At the silence, Levi looked down on Caelum's onyx hair. He kissed the side of the boy’s head. “I hope you will feel better once we spend the rest of the day tomorrow.”

“I can’t, Dad, I’m sorry.” It was a low murmur that Levi had to crane his head to hear. “I have to go somewhere tomorrow.”

“And where will this somewhere be? Is Mikasa going with you? Or did Petra invite you to go get the groceries?”

The silver-eyed boy squirmed out of Levi’s hold, burying himself in the think blankets.

“Al? Are you feeling unwell? Kiddo?” Levi tried tickling his son’s sides but was only met with muffled laughs. “Al.”

A British accent enveloped the words Caelum uttered next, “That’s where I’m going! I have to go see Altair.”

“And where might Altair be?”

A pause. “In London.” Levi froze. “With his mum, [Name] [Last Name].”

It was as if cold water surrounded Levi, dunking him in a fever dream. It was too good to be true. Of all the surprises he received for the day, this is by far the most responsible for taking away his voice and steady breathing. He couldn’t think properly at the revelation. So this was the reason why Petra looked like she saw the boy for the first time because she did, after eleven years. His heartbeat echoed through his chest, making a duet with his clattering mind. Levi didn’t know what to do. Should he embrace the son he never got to hug in almost twelve years or should he stay quiet and let the night go on, pretending that this was a dream? His eyes started to burn with unshed tears as he carefully lifted the edge of the duvet off the small figure lying beside him. There was no way this was happening. But as he finally got a glimpse of his son staring up at him, eye shape boring some similarities to yours, Levi let out a shaky breath.

“Caelum?”

Caelum sat up. “Yes, Dad?”

Levi’s vision became blurry, arms instantly wrapping around Caelum. He hugged him tightly, worried that this might be a trick of his loneliness, that this was Altair pretending to be his twin to make him happy. But no. He knew Altair like the back of his hand and if he hugged him like this, the little brat would whine at the long physical contact. This was Caelum, hands gentle like yours as they patted his back. He didn’t know he was crying until Caelum rubbed rhythmic circles on his back to calm him down.

“Al and I met at camp and we decided to switch places.” His breath hitched, nuzzling his head on Levi’s chest. “Dad, I’ve dreamt my whole life of finally meeting you. Seeing you waiting at the airport nearly made me cry because you were exactly like Mum’s vague stories. And Al wanted to meet Mum as well so we sort of made the switch impulsively.”

Levi pulled away, a smile present on his face. “Who exactly made this plan?”

“Never in my life would I suggest switching places with my twin. I told Al this is an idiotic plan yet here we are.”

Levi snorted a laugh. “Of course it’s Al’s idea.”

“But Dad …”

“Hmm?” The man waited patiently for his little heaven to speak up.

“I hope you’re not raging at the moment because I love you so much and I just hope that one day, you will love me as me — not as a mirror image of Al.”

Levi pulled Caelum again in a hug, kissing the boy on the crown of his head. “Did you know I was the one who named you?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Since your mom named Altair after a star, I thought it would be best if you were named after the realm the star is situated. You’re my little heaven, Cae, and nothing can change that. I’ve loved you your whole life. Stop being a mopey little brat — I meant that term in the most endearing way possible because your mother was the original one, she was my pain in the ass — and give your dad another hug.”

Caelum felt like he forgot something, choosing this moment to never mention you being engaged to someone and instead chose to let his dad’s warm hugs lull him to sleep.

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