#my dad wanted to start doing things immediately so he was calling and scheduling all day. we went to the funeral home we went to the store

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[gutsby]

Wants and Needs

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Joel x Reader

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

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

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

Word count: 8.4k

You wanted a car. Joel needed to cum.

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

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

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

With Joel, you could.

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

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

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

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

“Alright.” Joel nodded.

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

“Mhmm.”

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

“For the…?”

“Martells.”

“Okay.”

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

“Lovely.”

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

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

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

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

You blinked, then scanned the schedule.

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

“I wasn’t talking about your father.”

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

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

Posing a question, maybe.

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

“I need $2,700.”

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

“$2,700?” he repeated.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You tried to protest again; Joel stopped you.

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

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

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

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

When he pulled away, your skin was practically ablaze.

“Mr. Miller—”

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

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

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

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

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

Ire morphed to something more in a blink.

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

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

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

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

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

You woke up wet.

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

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

Or steam.

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

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

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

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

You glanced at the clock—3:37.

“Fucking hell,” you hissed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the hell are you doing here?”

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

“I’m sorry. Bad timing. I saw your—”

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

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

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

“Listen. Hey.”

“Will you stop?!”

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

“You’re gonna make me late—”

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

You’re good.

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

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

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

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

“I offered.”

“You caved.”

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

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

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

You scoffed. Then winced, inwardly.

I don’t need your pity, Mr. Miller.

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

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

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

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

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

But your gaze was already fixed outside. You frowned.

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

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

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

“I cancelled,” he said.

You sighed, “Mr. Miller…”

You knew he hated doing that.

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

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

You cracked; it never took much from him.

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

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

“I know.”

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

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

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

“That’s it.”

“I know.”

“Good girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Like this?” you ventured.

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

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

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

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

You did.

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

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

“In me, daddy. Please.”

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

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

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

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

“No,” you choked out.

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

The night stand.

You closed your eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel was on his stomach, eyes glowing with intrigue.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not me.

Not here.

Just let it—

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

Joel groaned, then pulled away to meet your gaze.

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

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

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

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

Your belly twisted again, then flushed with hot pleasure.

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

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

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

Joel nodded against you. Humming through his kisses:

“I know. Keep going.”

Keep going.

So simple.

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m here.”

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

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

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

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

“Kiss me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good girl,” Joel cooed.

Throbbing even more this time.

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

All but aching with desire. Feeling it double.

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

Feeling it trickle down your legs.

“She’s feelin’ real good, huh?”

You could barely breathe.

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

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

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

Of course, you yelped.

“Joel!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah? Are you sure?”

“Uh-huh.”

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

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

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

Joel slowed.

“What?”

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

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

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

“Money?” he quipped.

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

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

“No,” he said, sharp.

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

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

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

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

“I do! I do…I just—” you sputtered.

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

Well, in a way, maybe.

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

Increasingly irritated, again.

“I just need money, Mr. Miller—”

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

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

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

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

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

Your heart sank.

You didn’t know what to say.

Luckily, Joel’s voice resumed on its own.

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

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

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

Sounding guilty, too.

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

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

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

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

He started to move off, hand dropping from yours.

“…but it’s the truth. I’m sorry.”

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

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

“Why?”

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

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

“Why’d it have to be you?”

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

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

Your stomach twisted. He did?

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

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

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

“This isn’t about—” he started, low.

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

“More than you know.”

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

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

“When you met me?” you teased.

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

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

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

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

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

You crawled between his legs, then straddled his hips.

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

Joel blinked back. Dazed.

“What do you m—”

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

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

You reached back and grabbed another.

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

“Says who?”

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

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

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

But you tried to steady your voice as you spoke.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alright.

“How much?”

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

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

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

You squealed, soft, “Joel!”

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

“Joel—” Again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He rubbed his thumb over your cheek and hummed.

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

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

Submission?

Joel wouldn’t be so bad for that.

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

You were hot. Your legs trembled and ached.

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

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

“Yeah? You mean it, sweetheart?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He lifted his head, not apologetic in the least.

“Maybe just one more—” he started.

“No,” you finished for him, sharp.

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

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

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

Here the fuck we go.

“He’ll kill you.”

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

“Oh, yeah? Why?”

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

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

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

“Joel!”

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

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

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

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

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

Joel paused. He turned, still holding you.

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

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

“What’s—”

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

You blinked.

“I don’t…have a car.”

Joel opened his hand. Keys dropped out.

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

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

“Joel, I-I can’t—”

“I’ve been meaning to buy one anyw—”

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

“I want to.”

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

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

For once, you wanted to believe it.

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

[ssahotchnerr]

👉🏼👈🏼 is it ok to request a fic where jack starts trying to take care of the reader the way he sees his dad does? like maybe hotch is away from a case and reader gets sick or sad or idk, so jack takes it upon himself to be there for reader? like maybe he even starts referring reader with the same pet name hotch calls her? tysm!

like dad does

aw 🥹 cw; fem!reader, established relationship, mentions of sickness, fluff <3

you awoke with a gentle start; a trail of cold water trickling down the side of your face, pooling vaguely in your ear.

likewise, a more concrete sensation was set on your forehead - a cold compress. most likely a washcloth, and one that hadn't been wrung out too much at that.

but it was relieving, a delightful contrast from your burning forehead.

"oops," a small mumble came directly from your left ear, as well as a soft exhale of a breath. "sorry."

"jack?" you muttered, rather drowsily. you forced your eyes open, finding jack's sweet, concerned face beside you. "what're you doing?"

"i'm taking care of you." he explained softly, his tone so nonchalant as if it were the most obvious and simplest thing in the world. he reached forward, adjusting the top of the blanket that was draped overtop you. "like dad does. he put the washcloth on you yesterday, you 'member?"

he was right; you were on day two, maybe three? of a nasty bout of the flu. quite honestly you didn't know what day it was, they all blurred together, and your scattered sleep schedule didn't help. you offered him a nod.

"thank you." you gave him a small, closed mouth smile. if it weren't for the germs, you'd reach out to touch his cheek. you sat up a bit from your position in bed, your voice hoarse. "where is your dad?"

"a meeting."

your eyebrows furrowed, the facial movement burning your sinuses. "he's home?"

jack nodded, "he's in his office, but he said it might take a long time. so that's why i'm helping you feel better."

his face brightened a bit, as if a realization struck him. he reached into his pant's pocket, retrieving a few cough drops he had shoved in there, dropping them onto your blanket covered chest.

"i'm sorry i can't make you soup." jack apologized, solemnly as his shoulders dropped. "but i'm not allowed to use the stove."

your face softened, the weak smile resurfacing. "that's okay bud, don't worry. you can help dad make some later when he's done, how 'bout that?"

he nodded enthusiastically, before hoisting himself onto your bed.

"hey no no no, i wouldn't," you protested gently, your heart also melting at his action. "i don't want you getting my germs."

"if i get sick i get sick." that's the same thing aaron had said, multiple times, when he insisted on getting into bed with you earlier. jack scooted somewhat close, staying mainly on his father's side of the bed.

"and if i get sick, i don't need to go to school."

you laughed softly, but finding yourself too weak to argue, you did the only thing you could - go right back to sleep.

it was restless; you were in and out of slumber, and could roughly process jack getting up here and there - solely due to the distant sensation of the washcloth leaving and returning to your forehead, dampened once more.

and once aaron's meeting had ceased, he went in to check on you, and was pleasantly surprised, and touched, to see jack accompanying you.

you were out, with jack diligently watching over, while also keeping himself busy - his sketchbook and colored pencils were scattered amongst the bed.

"how's it going?" aaron asked him from the doorway, the door producing a sharp creak as he pushed it forward a tad.

"good. i brought cough drops, the washcloth, and made sure she got lots of rest. just like you did." jack continued to draw as he spoke, before his head shot right up. "can we make soup?"

"sure buddy," aaron nodded, a tinge of pride pulling at his heart. he tilted his head towards the hallway, and jack immediately scrambled off the bed. "c'mon."

[callsign-joyride]

But Daddy I Love Him | J.H.S

Summary: You finally tell your dad and Rooster about your secret relationship with Hangman. Content Warnings: Secret relationship, mentions of food/eating Lyric: "Now I'm dancing with my dress in the sun, and even my daddy just loves him." Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Mav's daughter reader

Buy me a coffee

“I know you like to get involved with what I do for work, but I need you to stay away from Hangman, got it?” Your dad had asked you one night over dinner.

“Why? What’s wrong with Hangman?”

“He’s an asshole, that’s what’s wrong with him,” Bradley said.

“Yeah, okay.”

You just couldn’t stay away. The first time that Hangman got you by yourself was on the patio of The Hard Deck. Everyone was too busy inside to worry about what was going on so close to the water. He did a pretty good job of chatting you up and getting your number before you went inside because your dad was getting worried about you. That was months ago, and you and Jake had done a pretty good job of keeping your relationship a secret so far. You had a few close calls but nothing too serious, mainly just Payback and Fanboy catching you hugging or being too close to each other for “acquaintances”. They definitely knew, but Jake scared them into not telling Mav.

Both of you knew what you wanted out of this relationship. You wanted to marry each other but there were a few things you needed to do first. The most important being that your dad had to know about the relationship, even if he’d be unhappy about it. That was the most nerve wracking part, since he was the one who told you to stay away from the Dagger Squad, Hangman in particular. 

“You should come by for dinner tonight,” your dad had told you over a phone call while you were sitting on your couch with Jake. Jake quickly shook his head and you had to stifle a laugh. 

“I actually have plans with some college friends who are in town,” you lied.

”Oh, which friends?”

”Just some friends from the tennis club that I was in. I don’t think I talked about it that much with you.”

”Oh, okay. Well, have fun.”

”Thanks. Oh, I’ve been meaning to tell you that I’ve been seeing someone. He wants to meet you and Penny. Let’s schedule a dinner at my apartment some time in the next few weeks. How does that sound?”

By the end of the phone call, you had dinner scheduled and had told your dad a little bit about your new boyfriend. He didn’t know that it was Hangman, and if he had somehow figured it out, it wasn’t obvious. You spent the rest of the night with Jake, mainly relaxing and watching movies on the couch. As you both climbed in to your bed, you talked about telling everyone else. 

“Let’s tell Bradley on the same day as dinner with my dad. Actually, we’ll call and tell him after. I don’t want him to let it slip to my dad before we get a chance to say anything.”

The next couple of weeks flew by, and there were only a few hours until your dad and Penny would be at your apartment for dinner. You told Bradley about dinner, and he decided to join, so you didn’t have to go to the base just so that you and Jake could announce your relationship. Jake joined you at your apartment while you cooked dinner. You had him set the table and put a bottle of wine on ice. There were plenty of beers in the fridge, since you only had wine on special occasions. (Mainly because you weren’t really a fan of it unless it tasted like jam.)

Bradley walked in with Penny and your dad at the perfect time. You were pulling the lasagna out of the oven and Jake was in the bathroom. You mentioned that when your dad asked you where your boyfriend was, leaving out his name. 

It was a surprise to everyone when Jake walked out of the bathroom and asked if you were all ready to eat. Bradley immediately got a beer out of the fridge, Penny looked impressed, and you couldn’t quite describe the look on your dad’s face. Everyone sat down and started eating, and things were mostly quiet except for the occasional ask to pass something across the table. 

“So, how long have you two been dating?” Your dad asked.

“A few months, and before you get worked up, we’re happy.”

“I’m not worked up, okay? I just wanna know why you kept it a secret for so long.”

“That’s what you’re wondering about?” Bradley asked, “I mean, Hangman, I knew you were seeing someone when you started skipping nights at The Hard Deck. I’m wondering why this, why now, y’know? Like, why get us together for dinner to announce this? Not that I’m really complaining, I get a free meal, but this could’ve been a text, really.”

You sighed and put your head in your hands out of embarrassment. Bradley did have a point, but you were mainly focused on trying not to laugh. 

“We’re thinking of getting married. That’s why you’re all here, because one day, we’re gonna have a big ceremony,” you glared at Jake while he was speaking, “or we’ll head down to the courthouse, and we’ll want you there to celebrate with us.”

“Do you love him?” Your dad asked you. 

“Yes,” you said as you nodded your head.

“And do you love her?”

“Absolutely, sir,” Jake said.

“That’s all I needed to hear. Get married, have fun, do whatever you want. But try not to rush into it, okay?”

“Wait, really?” You asked through chuckles.

“Yeah. If you’re happy, I’m happy. I couldn’t really stop you, anyways, since it is your life.”

“I’ll cheers to that,” Jake said. You clinked wine glasses and beer cans before handing out dessert.You had made a cheesecake before everyone arrived, so all you had to do was pull it out of the fridge and cut it. Bradley stayed a lot longer than anyone thought he would, not leaving until midnight when you pointed out how late it was getting. 

It was somewhat surprising that your dad had approved of the relationship so easily. It was even more surprising that Rooster was okay with all of it. Either way, you weren’t complaining. And since you and Jake were more comfortable with being open about your relationship, you started going to The Hard Deck with him and the rest of the Dagger Squad. You even loudly supported him at the next air show that he had, while hanging out with the other partners of the group.

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[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

Can You Feel My Heart - GF!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This was a request I got over a month ago, and the person that asked for it was very detailed in the things they wanted, and I didn't want to give away the entire fic before anyone read it lmao. If you're the one that requested it, I hope you like it! It's definitely a bigger one, 5.9k words🙃

I can't drown my demons, they know how to swim

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: You were supposed to die in Tara and Sam's apartment, but you never showed. When he tries to finish the job, he realizes that he can't hurt you, and you help him decided to save the rest of your friends.

Contains: Dryhumping? Oral - m & f receiving, p in v, fingering. Nothing too crazy, Ethan's an inexperienced virgin for the most part in this.

A/N: Deadass want to write something where reader makes Ethan cum in his pants💀

Ethan knew he couldn’t do what his family asked when it came to hurting you, but after hours of Quinn telling Ethan that you’d never want him, and that you would never see him as anything more than a pathetic loser, he’d channeled enough rage towards you to hopefully do the job he was asked to do.

When he popped out of Quinn’s closet that night and killed her flavor of the week, the adrenaline was already pumping through his veins. When he went out to the main area of the apartment, he searched for you. He thought back to the text you sent him about being bummed that he had econ and couldn’t join you and the rest of the friend group, so he knew this was where you were supposed to be. He didn’t let you not being there throw everything off, it just meant Anika had to die before it was originally planned.

He met with his dad before he had to show up at the crime scene and play the roll of the grieving father to explain how everything actually played out.

“She wasn’t there?!” Wayne yelled, as Ethan nodded, his breathing still heavy from all the running to get away from the apartment before anyone had a chance to see him. “Fuck, I thought you had this all planned out!”

“I’m sorry,” Ethan said, “She was supposed to be there. I guess she changed her mind.”

“You’re going to finish the job though, right?” Wayne asked, knowing how much convincing it took to get Ethan to want to kill you in the first place.

“Yeah, I’ll take care of it. I know tomorrow’s supposed to be the end of all this, but I have her schedule memorized. I’ll just break into her apartment before she get’s home from class, kill her, and I’ll meet you at the theater,” he said, as Wayne nodded in approval.

“I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”

The next day, you went to class. You’d heard about another attack but had no idea it was Anika and Quinn. With you backing out of coming over to Tara and Sam’s last minute before the attacks happened, your friends couldn’t help but wonder if you could’ve been the one that caused her death. You were the last person they’d suspect, but they thought it was a little strange.

Finally, Tara called you when you were walking back home after your morning classes.

“Hey, sorry I didn’t come over last night. I was so tired,” you said, as soon as you answered the phone.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t,” Tara said. You immediately heard the sadness in her voice.

“Wait, what happened?” you asked, before you heard Mindy yelling at Tara for calling you in the background. “Tara, what’s going on?”

“The killer came to the apartment last night…Quinn and Anika are dead,” she said, as you were walking through your front door.

“Oh my god,” you said, bracing yourself against the doorway as you took in the news she just told you. “Is Mindy okay?” you asked as you started to get emotional. You weren’t the closest to Anika yet, but you were getting there. You loved her sweet yet sarcastic personality, and you’d recently started to get to know her better from the study sessions with her and Ethan.

“No, not really,” Tara sighed, “Were you really home last night? I hate to ask you because I don’t think you’d do anything like this…but you saying you weren’t coming over last minute was a little suspicious.”

You were taken aback by her accusations, and were about to respond, when you heard the beeping that someone else was calling you. You felt annoyed as you saw the unknown number, quickly declining it before you responded to Tara.

“Tara, I promise you I was at home. I was so tired after class yesterday,” you got out, before you started to get another unknown number call, “Fuck, someone keeps calling me. I’ll text you in a little bit. We’ll figure out who’s doing this.”

“Okay, be safe,” she said, before you ended the call and answered whoever kept calling you.

“Hello?” you asked, the irritation in your voice obvious as you heard a chuckle on the other end of the call.

“I thought you were just going to keep ignoring me.”

You immediately recognized the voice. You’d heard it several times before in the Stab movies, and started to think this was some kind of sick prank.

“Who is this?” you asked, walking towards your kitchen, “Because this isn’t funny.”

“Oh, you sweet, dumb thing,” the person responded, a hint of laughter still in their voice. “I think this is hilarious. You’re all alone in your apartment, no one to save you…”

You tensed up as you glanced around the areas of your apartment that you could see from the kitchen, before inching your way towards the drawer that contained the knives.

“Don’t even think about it,” the voice said, the realization that whoever this was could see you in that moment setting in.

“Who the fuck is this?” you asked, your voice a little shaky as your anxiety kicked in.

“Aww, are you scared?” the voice cooed, “Because you should be.”

That’s when you saw the masked figure darting towards you from your bedroom. You tried to make a run for the front door, but Ghostface was hot on your heels. The knife was shoved in your direction in attempts to slow you down, but the knife penetrated the wood of your door. The killer struggled for a few seconds as they tried to get the knife out, giving you the smallest amount of time to get away from them.

You ran to your living room, searching for anything you could use to help you defend yourself, when you noticed that Ghostface had joined you in the room, holding the knife up as they stared at you.

“Why are you doing this?” you cried. Seeing you like this had Ethan feeling so guilty, but Quinn’s words kept replaying in his head. He didn’t say anything as he charged towards you again. You tried to fight him off, but you were quickly overpowered by him.

He threw you to the ground before he straddled your body. You kept trying to fight, refusing to just give up, even though this person was a lot stronger than you. Both of Ghostface’s hands were wrapped around his knife as they held it over their head, your life literally flashing before your eyes as you waited for it all to be over.

Ethan hesitated, though. The fear in your eyes, your tear-soaked cheeks, and the sobs slipping past your lips were something he knew would haunt him if he went through with this.

“I’m so sorry,” you heard, recognizing the voice as the knife was lowered and clanked on the floor beside you. “I can’t do this to you.”

“Ethan?!” you choked out, gaining enough strength to shove him off you. You used your hands and feet to back yourself closer to the wall, pulling yourself up by the windowsill as he sat on the floor. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“I don’t know,” he cried, pulling the mask over his head and throwing it in frustration. “I can’t do anything right.”

You eyed him as you stood against the wall, watching him cry. You were so shaken up and furious, but you couldn’t help but wonder how Ethan ended up in this position. He was this shy, sweet person that you enjoyed spending time with, and maybe it was your personal feelings towards him, but you felt bad for him.

You walked over to where the knife was, kicking it to the other side of the room under your tv stand. If he had a change of heart and decided he wanted to kill you, you knew him trying to fish that out would give you enough time to escape.

“What the fuck, Ethan?” you sighed, standing beside him as he still sat in his place on the floor. “Why?”

He just kept crying, so ashamed of himself that he got roped into his dad’s plan in the first place. He felt sick, and not just mentally. He was fighting his nausea as you finally crouched down beside him.

“Talk to me,” you said, as he finally looked up at you. He looked scared, his pupils huge as his chin quivered.

“My family is behind all this,” he said, jumping up off the floor as you hesitantly stood up. “Fuck, they’re gonna kill me.”

You started to get nervous all over again as he paced the floor. His hands were shaking, and you couldn’t tell if it was out of fear or anger, but you stepped as far away from him as you could.

“I don’t even understand why you were a part of this in the first place. You didn’t have anything to do with Richie dying,” he ranted, before pausing for a second, “Are you close to your parents?”

You just stared at him, unsure of what to say. This wasn’t the Ethan you knew, and his erratic behavior had a huge lump in your throat.

“I bet your parents love you. I bet they’d never treat you the way my dad treats me,” he said, after you didn’t answer him. “I bet they never make you feel like you’re worthless.”

“You’re not worthless,” you said softly, his head snapping in your direction. You hesitated before speaking again. “Your family is doing this because of Richie? How is he a part of this?”

Ethan stepped towards you, as you backed even further against the wall. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

You shook your head as you looked at him, “You just tried to kill me, Ethan…I’m terrified of you right now.”

“Fuck,” he said, tearing up again. “Richie was my brother. I know you heard the story about Sam stabbing him and slitting his throat,” Ethan paused, you nodded for him to continue, “My dad and sister wanted revenge. I didn’t want to do any of this.”

“Then why did you?” you questioned, as he wiped tears from his cheeks.

“Because my dad told me that it would finally make him proud of me for something…and he said he’d just kill me too if I didn’t help with all this.”

You started to relax against the wall a little as you processed everything. This wasn’t about him wanting to hurt you or anyone else, he just wanted to be loved by the one person that should’ve loved him regardless. He was broken, and even though the voice inside your head kept screaming that you were stupid for wanting to comfort him, your huge heart was breaking for him.

“Ethan,” you said, slowly stepping towards him, “Everything will be okay.”

“No it won’t!” he yelled, making you jump, “Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, noticing that he’d scared you again. He started to speak in a softer tone, “My dad is a fucking detective…even if I try to run away from all of this, he’d just find me.”

You stood there in silence for a few seconds as the realization hit you, “Detective Bailey?” you asked, as he nodded.

“Quinn is a part of this, too. She’s my sister.”

“Ethan…Quinn died last night. This isn’t making sense,” you said, as he scoffed.

“She’s not dead…I wish she was, though. I fucking hate her.”

You both stood in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds heard in the room was his heavy breathing and the occasional sob he’d let out…and the pounding in your chest but you were sure only you could hear that.

“I know you probably hate me right now, and I’m so sorry that I scared you like that. You didn’t deserve it,” he finally said, his eyes connecting with yours. “I’d rather my own life be over than take yours.”

“Your life isn’t over,” you said, as he started to awkwardly laugh.

“It is, though. I still helped with this. I’m going to spend the rest of my life in prison.”

“Not if you stop all this. You can still do the right thing,” you said, his eyes growing wide at your suggestion. “I’m the only person that knows…I won’t say anything.”

He looked at you in disbelief, unsure if you were serious or if you just had a really good poker face.

“I do have another question, though,” you said, walking closer towards him, until he was right in front of you. “Why didn’t you kill me?”

You wanted to pull him into a hug. You wanted him to feel like he was cared about. But you really needed to know why he changed his mind last minute before you did anything.

“I uhm…” he said, trailing off as he tried to find the right words to say, “I really like you, You’re just so sweet, and you’re always showing interest in the things I like, even if you don’t understand it. Quinn tried to make me hate you enough to do it, but I couldn’t.”

“So…Quinn tried to convince you to kill me?” you asked, a little confused. You’d spent plenty of time with her at Sam and Tara’s. You now knew that her kindness towards you was all an act, but you didn’t understand why she thought you needed to die.

“Yeah, she knew how I felt about you,” he said, glancing at the floor as his cheeks started to turn a rosy pink. “She said you’d never want to be with me. That doesn’t matter, though. That wasn’t a good enough reason for me to finish the job.”

“Is that all I am to you? A job?” you half-joked, as he started to smile, looking back up at you.

“Not at all.”

You both just stared at each other as he started to calm down. His eyes were red from all the crying, the guilt for even trying to hurt you painted on his face, but you still grabbed his hands and pulled him close to you.

“It’s going to be okay, Ethan. I’ll help you get through this,” you said, as your hands comfortingly ran over his back. He relaxed into your touch, but he was still a little shocked that you didn’t hate him at that moment.

“Are you okay?” he softly asked, “I know I slammed you on the floor pretty hard.”

“I’m still pissed at you, but I’m okay,” you said, as you started to pull away. He held onto you tighter, not wanting to let you go just yet. “Ethan,” you said sternly, “We need to talk about something else.”

“Sorry…you have no idea how long it’s been since I’ve had affection like this,” he mumbled against you, before pulling away. “I’m really fucked up, aren’t I?”

“I might be a little fucked up, too. I want to make you feel better after you tried to kill me,” you said, as he shook his head.

“You’re not fucked up, you’re perfect.”

You grabbed his gloved hand and led him over to the couch. He realized that he was still wearing the robe and pulled it off, tossing it on the floor before he sat down beside you. Your eyes connected with his as you slid the gloves off his hands and threw them on top of the robe.

“I know your family has their plans, but we need to save the rest of our friends,” you said, his heart pounding when you said the word ‘we’.

“No, you can’t help. I can’t let anything happen to you. I’ll take care of it,” he said, as your hands still held onto his. He looked down at them, before looking back up at you. “You mean a lot to me, even if you don’t feel the same way I do.”

You smirked at him as your thumbs rubbed against the top of his hands, “I never said I didn’t feel the same way you do.”

The tension was building up as you just looked at each other. He wasn’t the most experienced, and you knew that, so you decided to make the first move. You leaned in and gently kissed him before you pulled away. He had a sweet smile on his lips, his cheeks pink, but he wanted more.

He gained a little confidence, leaning forward to kiss you. It wasn’t a simple peck like yours was, as his lips needily moved against yours. Your head was spinning as he pushed you back on the couch, his body hovering over yours as you ran your tongue across his bottom lip. He gasped at the feeling, giving you the opportunity to slip your tongue in his mouth. He didn’t know what to do at first, but soon enough, his tongue was moving with yours.

After a few minutes, he pulled away so you could both catch your breath. He was panting on top of you, a small gasp slipping out of your mouth as he adjusted his hips to get more comfortable in his place between your legs.

You started to get a little lost in thought, wondering if you were crazy. You didn’t expect to be making out with Ethan after he held a knife over you and scared you more than you’d ever been, but it just felt right.

You grabbed his shirt and pulled him back down to kiss you. The grip you had on his shirt relaxed, your fingertips gently running down his chest. He started to tense up a little when your hands reached his stomach, a small groan slipping into your mouth at the feeling. He didn’t pull away from you, the kiss only getting more intense as he started to grind against you.

“Fuck,” you mumbled against him, before nudging him back. “My bed is a lot more comfortable…just saying.”

“Okay,” he said, trying to catch his breath.

After both of you stood up, you could see how hard he was in his jeans. He subtly tried to cover it with his free hand, his other hand laced with yours as you led him to your room.

It got a lot harder for him to hide it once you pushed him back on your bed. You glanced at it before you straddled him, his cheeks turning pink, yet again.

“You keep blushing,” you said, as you started to roll your hips. “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” he spat out, so quickly that you started to giggle. “Please don’t stop.”

Your hips kept moving as he placed his hands on them, pulling you closer to him. You gasped at the friction it was giving your clit, your panties getting more soaked by the second. He was starting to groan, his mouth falling open as his eyes fluttered shut.

“Okay, we need to stop,” he said, his breathing heavy as his eyes snapped open. “You’re going to make me cum in my pants.”

“Would you rather cum in my mouth?” you asked, your eyes looking deep into his. He didn’t know what to say, because he was so embarrassed that just you grinding against him was enough to almost bring him over the edge. He knew the second you put him in your mouth, he’d cum on the spot. You could tell he was nervous, his hands feeling a little shaky as he held onto you. “It’s okay, baby. We can stop.”

“No, I want to…I just don’t want you to be disappointed,” he sighed, turning his eyes away from your gaze. “Whatever we do, I know I won’t last long.”

“Ethan, I know you’re a virgin. I don’t expect you to last long.” He started to get flustered, hating the fact that his inexperience was so obvious. “It’s okay. If you want me to make you feel good, I will.”

“Shit,” he mumbled, “Okay, we can do it.”

You smirked as you slid off him and started to unbutton his jeans. He lifted his hips as you slid them down a little, the wet spot on his boxers from his precum making your mouth water even more than it already was. He sharply inhaled the second you grabbed his cock out of his boxers, his hips jolting forward at the simple action.

“Relax, baby,” you said softly as you leaned down to take him in your mouth.

You were trying to tease him a little, just swirling your tongue against his tip, when his hips jerked forward again. His cock hit the back of your throat, making you gag around him.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” he whined, his chest heaving at the feeling, “I didn’t mean to do that.”

You just kept gagging around him, intentionally making your mouth more wet for him before you started to bob your head. His hands tightly gripped your comforter as you sucked, the feeling better than he could’ve ever imagined. He was trying so hard to hold back, but you made it impossible for him. His groans turned to whimpers as you started to stroke what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You knew he was close when he started to babble, only recognizing the words ‘Perfect’ and ‘So good’.

His hips started to rut forward again, his legs shaking as one of his hands went to your hair. He tightly gripped it as the feeling washed over him, his salty cum filling your mouth. After his hips stopped thrusting, you swallowed and slid him out of your mouth.

You sat there for a minute after you pulled away, watching him fully come back down from his high. He felt your gaze on him as he slowly opened his eyes and smiled at you.

“That was…fuck,” he sighed, pulling you closer to him. “Can we do that again sometime?”

“I hope so,” you said, as you started to think about what Ethan had to do. “When is everything else supposed to happen, like with the Ghostface stuff?”

You sat up a little to look at him as you waited for his answer. “Shit, if I’m going to stop it, I need to get to the theater,” he sighed, pulling his boxers and jeans back over his hips. “Can we finish this later?”

“Of course,” you said, fully sitting up on your bed. “I want to come with you.”

“No, I’m not losing the girl I’m in love with,” he said, jumping off the bed and landing on his feet. He paused when he realized what he said. “I guess you know how I really feel in case I don’t make it out of this alive.”

“I’m not staying here and worrying about you all night,” you said, sliding off your bed. “Do you know the theater well?”

“Yeah, but you’re not coming!” He was starting to get irritated, but he knew with your persistence that you were coming with him whether he liked it or not. “You could get killed, babe. I can’t keep you safe and take down dad and Quinn at the same time.”

“If they already think I’m dead, don’t you think that would be helpful?” you asked, “I’ll get our friends out before anything happens to them.”

“Fuck, okay. But we need to leave right now.”

You were hoping you could catch your friends before they made it inside the theater, but you peaked around the side of the building as soon as they were going in.

“There’s a back way, just let me scope it out for Quinn first,” he said, as the two of you walked around the old theater. He slid the robe back on and covered his face with the mask before he turned to look at you. “Wait here,” he said, before he opened the door and walked inside.

You were outside for a while before you heard screaming and Ethan’s voice booming on the other side of the door. You didn’t know what was going on, you even started to think that he’d decided to go through with the original plan, after all. You screamed once the masked figure walked out, the bloody knife in their hand.

“It’s okay, babe. It’s me,” he said, reaching for your hand. You hesitantly took his hand in yours as he led you inside, noticing a huge pool of blood on the floor.

“Is that…Quinn?” you asked, noticing the body hunched over in the corner.

“Yeah, we don’t have much time. Dad will be here soon,” he said, leading you down the hallway towards the museum-like display.

You bumped into Chad and Tara when you came around a corner. They both froze when they saw you, your hand still in Ethan’s.

“It was you?” Tara asked, as your eyes went wide, realizing how this all looked.

“No, but we need to get you guys the fuck out of here,” you said, motioning for Tara to come with you. They both stood in their spot as Chad glanced around, looking for something Tara could defend herself with as he tried to take down the masked person. “I’m fucking serious! We have to go!”

“Please just listen to her,” Ethan said, as Chad and Tara looked at each other. “I know how this looks, but you need to go with her. I’ll get Sam and Kirby out next.”

“Why should we trust you?” Chad asked, as Ethan lifted the mask off.

“I’m trying to do the right thing…and it’ll all be for nothing if you don’t go with her. Please, my dad’s on his way,” he sighed, as Chad hesitantly nodded.

“We can both take her if this is bullshit,” Chad whispered to Tara as she nodded. “You’re going to get Sam and Kirby?” he asked, as Ethan nodded. “Fuck, let’s go.”

You led them down the hall as Ethan made his way into the theater to search for the other two. Once you got closer to where Quinn was, you warned them.

“Try not to freak out, but there’s a body around the corner,” you said, noticing the blood spreading across the hall.

“What the fuck is going on?” Chad finally asked, “Whoa, who is that?”

You turned to face them, the confusion on their faces obvious when they noticed the red hair.

“That’s Quinn, she never died. Detective Bailey is in on this,” you said, before trying to think of the best way to explain Ethan without telling them his involvement. “Ethan is Quinn’s brother. He figured all this out today, and he wanted to stop it.”

“Oh,” was all Tara said, as you led them out the back door.

The three of you waited outside for a while. Tara was starting to freak out, the concern for her sister’s safety made her want to go back inside.

“Where the fuck are they?” Chad asked, as he heard Sam start to yell for Tara from the front entrance.

You ran around to the front of the building, panic setting in when you saw Sam and Kirby, but no Ethan.

“What happened?” you asked, peaking around them, hoping to see him walk out behind them.

“We didn’t believe Ethan at first…until he started to fight Detective Bailey,” Sam said, noticing the sadness in your eyes as your thoughts ran wild. “He’s okay, he’s in the ambulance over there.”

“Oh my god,” you said, running over to him. He smiled at you as you crawled into the back, your anxiety fading once you saw he was okay. “I forgot to tell you something earlier,” you said, sitting down beside him. You leaned in to kiss him, mumbling “I love you, too,” against his lips before you pulled away.

You were soon joined in the back by a paramedic, who was looking over a huge gash on Ethan’s arm that you didn’t see before, the blood unnoticeable with the black robe he was still wearing.

“Oh shit,” you said, looking at it. “How hurt are you?”

“This is it,” he said with a smile, before wincing at the numbing medication being injected into his arm. “That burns.”

You were shocked after he was all stitched up and one of the new detectives on the case said he was good to go, but that he’d just need to come down to the police station the next day. Ethan looked over to you, silently thanking you for keeping your word and not ratting him out. You knew he was wrong for doing what he did to Anika, but it was so easy for it to be pinned on his dead dad.

“Thank you, Ethan,” Sam said, as he hopped out of the back of the ambulance. “We’re going back to our apartment. You guys want to come?”

You and Ethan exchanged your glances as he took your hand in his.

“No, I think we’re going to…uh, hang out?” he said, like it was a question. It made you giggle as Chad curiously eyed him. He stopped Ethan before the two of you walked away, discreetly pulling a condom out of his wallet.

“Just in case you need it,” he said, as Ethan nodded and slid it into the front pocket of his jeans.

“Thanks, dude.”

Once you made it back to your apartment, you couldn’t figure out if you were with the same nervous Ethan from earlier in the day. He had you out of your clothes in minutes, your bare back against the plush comforter as he trailed kisses down your stomach. His hands were inching up your thighs as he pushed them apart.

He moved lower, groaning at the sight of your soaked pussy before he started to place gently kitten licks to your clit. You started to moan as his tongue moved faster, your hand tangling in his curls to encourage him, as if your moaning wasn’t already doing that enough. Once he moved his tongue a little lower and swirled it inside of you, your hips involuntarily jolted, much like his did earlier in the day. When your hips kept moving, he pinned them down with his free hand as he kept lapping at the wetness dripping out of you.

“Shit, Ethan,” you moaned, which only made him go faster.

His mouth worked you closer to the edge when he pulled away. You whined at the loss of contact, knowing how close you were getting to your orgasm. He wasn’t going to let it slip away, instead using his fingers and curving them inside you.

“Right there,” you whimpered once he brushed his fingers over the spongy spot inside of you.

His fingers firmly pressed as they moved, his tongue moving back up to lick fat stripes across your swollen clit. The orgasm you were so close to having was quickly approaching again, your hips still trying to buck against him as he struggled to hold them down. Your vision was getting hazier by the second, your whimpers getting louder as your legs started to shake.

“Fuck, I’m cumming,” you whined, as your pussy started contracting around his fingers.

He pulled his mouth away from your clit to have a better view of your face as his fingers slowed inside of you. You were a panting mess as you came back down, your eyes hooded as your hands reached for him.

“Don’t take this wrong because that was amazing, but that wasn’t what I expected,” you said, your breathing still labored as he snuggled up beside you. “I didn’t really have to tell you what to do at all.”

He started to laugh to himself as his hand reached over to run along your naked body, “I guess it just came to me. I knew moaning meant I was doing something right.”

“You did everything right, fuck,” you sighed, feeling his hand run over one of your breasts, gently pinching your nipple between his fingers. “No pressure, but if you want to have sex, we can.”

“Seriously?” he asked, sitting up a little to look at you.

“Yeah, I know you already have a condom,” you said, running your hand over the pocket of his jeans. “Chad should really be a little less obvious.”

“He just wanted me to be prepared,” he sighed, sliding the condom out of his pocket.

He crawled off the bed to take his jeans off. You started to giggle as he climbed back up, the tent in his boxers obvious as he sat on his knees and looked at you.

“Those have to come off, too,” you said, as he started to blush. His hesitance made you roll your eyes as you sat up and leaned over, shimmying his boxers down his hips. “You have nothing to be self-conscious about,” you said, as his cock stood at attention right in front of your face.

You grabbed the condom off the bed beside you and opened it. He intently watched you as you rolled it on his length, the feeling making his breath hitch in his throat.

“Please don’t hate me if this doesn’t last long,” he said, as he got settled between your legs.

“No pressure,” you assured him, as he started to push inside of you, stretching your walls.

He took it slow, at first. His hands teasingly roamed the areas of your body he could reach, the tickling feeling only building your anticipation up even more. Once he got through the initial fear of cumming too quickly, he started to move a little faster. His bottom lip was in between his teeth as he looked down at you, your tits jiggling with each thrust. He held on to one of them as his other hand went to your hip, holding you in place as his thrusts sped up.

He started to groan as he fucked into you, his cheeks red as his mouth hung open. You could tell he was trying to hold back, his mind somewhere else as he tried to distract himself. You moved one of your hands to your clit, rubbing quick circles as your other hand grabbed onto his arm.

“Baby,” you moaned out, as he started to focus on you again. “Go a little faster, I’m close.”

“Shit,” he groaned, snapping his hips into yours. You started to move your hips to meet his thrusts, the feeling of the tip of your cock repeatedly hitting your g-spot had you teetering on the edge.

You let out a loud moan as the euphoric feeling washed over you, your skin tingling as your pussy clenched him. His eyes started to flutter as his thrusts started to falter, a whimper slipping past his lips as he started to fill the tip of the condom. He stilled inside of you as you just kept tightening around him, his head hanging as he caught his breath.

“God, babe,” he said, sliding out of you. “I just want to stay inside you all the time.”

You giggled at him as he laid down beside you. “Is it that good?”

“You have no fucking idea.”

You were starting to get some post-nut clarity as you laid your head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat. He’d killed three people in one day and tried to kill you. You were still so proud of him for saving the rest of the people you cared about, even if he had his little psychotic tendencies. You made a mental note to bring up therapy to him once the investigation was over, knowing he needed to work through the daddy issues he ultimately had after years of neglect. You knew that you were going to be by his side the whole way, not wanting him to feel like he didn’t matter ever again.

[creedslove]

MAKING OUT WITH THE BRIDE'S FATHER - JOEL MILLER HEADCANONS ✨

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: the reason why I love Pedro so much is that he always makes me feel alive no matter how bad the situation is 💟

A/N #2: besties I'm so sorry about this Headcanon, I know it's sooooo bad, but I had the idea several weeks ago I think I don't really remember and I've been writing a little bit every day since but I went through a lot in a short time and I lost inspiration but at the same time it was really bothering me to see it lying in my drafts unfinished, I'm sorry it sucks, but I love you all 💕

• you met Sarah Miller when she was only a freshman girl, completely lost in her first day of college after she was dropped off and looking like a scared little deer even if she tried assuring you she was alright

• you were a few years older than her and you'd been there, so you pretended to believe she was alright but still offered her some help to get her dorm organized and simply find herself around campus; she quickly accepted it and that was how your friendship had started

• during the semester, you became one of Sarah's best friends; as you were always there to help her out, advise her or simply offer her some company or comfort the days she felt lonely and missed her family too much - you knew she didn't know her mom and she was raised by her dad and her uncle which you thought it was pretty awesome of them, but other than that, you didn't actually hear much about them, as you both often talked about other stuff

• and so the years passed and soon enough Sarah was graduating and marrying her college sweetheart, Ben, who'd been introduced to her by you during a party, so it was more than exciting to be invited to that beautiful party

• so you packed your bags, got yourself a decent place on Airbnb and went to Austin, to celebrate the wedding of your beloved friend, due to conflicting schedules, you could only get there a few days before the wedding, which ruined your plans of meeting Sarah's family, having dinner together and getting to the city, since the most you were able to do was just handle the last adjustment and details for your dress, help Sarah with the arrangements for the party and of course, party hard in her bachelorette party

• the bachelorette party was partially organized by you, as you never really knew how those things were supposed to go, other than just the scenes you saw in several movies, should you go to a male strip club? Should there be men half naked rubbing themselves against you and your friends? You weren't so sure, so you talked to Sarah and you picked a nice nightclub to dance and drink

• so you and your group of friends hit the club, all in your best clothes, nice heels and Sarah wearing a cute little party veil so everyone would know she was the bride to be. The night was perfect and you danced and drank as much as you wanted, knowing you could just call yourself a Uber to go home

• you stayed until the end of the party, your group of friends had all left home in different Uber rides and Sarah was picked up by Ben just some moments ago, so you grabbed your purse, paid for your part of your check and went to the parking lot, since your uber wouldn't take much to get there

• and that was when you saw him: easily the most handsome man you'd ever seen, older than you of course, tall, broad, brown hair salt and peppered and leaning against his truck. He seemed to be waiting for someone, but his attention was immediately shifted towards you, and he couldn't pay attention to anything else

• you just caught Joel's attention as you walked out of that bar; you didn't seem drunk or wasted, but definitely a little tipsy and while he wasn't a creep - Sarah had accidentally called him and asked him to pick her up and there was no way in the world he wouldn't come for his little girl, even if she wasn't little anymore and was going to be a married girl in a couple of days

• and even when she explained to her dad that she didn't mean to call him and he didn't need to pick her up because she was already going home with Ben - clearly drunk, which bothered Joel but he couldn't actually do anything about it - he said he was just going back to sleep, omitting the fact he was already at the parking lot waiting for her. She wasn't a child anymore, but he really missed when she was one because then, she would still be his sweet little Sarah wearing her cute star PJs to bed, and not exiting the club completely drunk like she did a while ago

• but all that whining went away in the blink of an eye once Joel spotted you, because he couldn't recall seeing a better looking woman at a bar in so fucking long, that or it was because he hadn't gotten laid in so long, his balls might've been blue but he wasn't just gonna empty them on the first woman he saw, so he just kept using his hand for it

• but you... He swallowed hard and decided to take a few steps towards you, after all, it wouldn't hurt just to make sure you were doing okay and no creeps were bothering you, because he wasn't a creep, he just wanted to make sure you were alright

• and when you saw Joel walking towards you, you felt your breath caught in your chest. He was so freaking handsome, big and manly, the kind of man to put you on all fours and fuck you while he whispers into your ear what a good girl for him you really are

• and you didn't remember much of your interaction with him, when you realized what you were doing, you were pressed against the hood of his truck, kissing him hungrily while his strong hands squeezed your body and roamed all over you; your hands messing up with his curls, tugging at them slightly as you moaned into his mouth, against better judgement you could let yourself be fucked by him at that moment

• however, you didn't even know his name, it was a dangerous game your body begged you to play, but your rational side was still too alert for it, so when you managed to see your Uber had arrived, you found strength in yourself to get rid of his intoxicating touch in your body and simply run to the car, you should've asked his name, but you didn't

• and the following days after that night at the bar, as much as you tried thinking of something else, all you could focus on, was that handsome man and the way he held you, he gripped your body and kissed you; it was different from any kind of touch you'd experienced, that mysterious man seemed addictive to you

• but as the wedding approached, your lustful thoughts had to be placed aside so you could focus on all the tasks you had to do: help Sarah get ready, check the venue for her and so on, not to mention getting ready yourself for the event, being so busy you totally skipped the part where you'd meet her family

• as you waited in church for her with the rest of your friends, you couldn't help but being extremely shocked to see Sarah walking down the aisle by her father, whom you had never actually seen before that night at the bar, but he happened to be your mysterious fling from the parking lot

• Joel also couldn't believe the hot girl he'd made out with was his daughter's best friend, he knew he was older than you even if you both hadn't much time to talk, but he didn't expect that

• you two had to stop those feelings aside so you could focus on the ceremony, but the way Joel kept glancing at you, made it pretty obvious you'd have a very interesting wedding reception afterwards 😉

____

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Game Day

Pairing: NHL!Steve Rogers x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: You're a nanny for a famous NHL star player whom you have a major crush on. You take his son to one of his games, which he loves, but it's revealed later on that Steve wasn't playing for his son... he was playing for you.

Squares Filled: engagement (2021) for @avengersbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

You’ve been sitting in the driveway for five minutes just contemplating whether or not you should go inside the house. This is your job. You shouldn’t be nervous. You’ve been coming here for two years. Should you look for a new job? Would that make things better? With a shake of your head, you get out of your car and head up the porch steps to the house.

You don’t even have to knock. Steve knows you’re coming over.

“Steve? I’m here,” you announce as you enter.

Steve doesn’t come down right away and you breathe a sigh of relief. You’ve had a major crush on him since you started working for him, but you’re his kid’s nanny. You can’t do anything with him anyway. Instead of facing your feelings, you push them down in hopes you can survive another day. It sucks because you love babysitting his son, Jasper. He’s such a sweet boy and has grown into a very energetic kid. You’ve been with Steve and Jasper since Jasper was born after Steve’s wife left him.

“Y/N!” Jasper squeals when he sees you.

Jasper runs over to you on little legs, and you scoop him up when he gets to you.

“Hi, Jasper! I’ve missed you so much!”

“I miss you!” he grins and hugs you tightly.

Steve comes jogging down the stairs to the left of you and your mouth immediately goes dry at his outfit. He is on the New York Rangers NHL team so he’s dressed in skin-tight clothing that will go under his official uniform. However, the skin-tight spandex stretches over his chest so deliciously that it’s taking everything in you not to set Jasper down and feel his bulging muscles. He has a game he needs to get going to so he asked you to babysit last minute. His sister was going to take him but she backed out at the last second due to medical reasons.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” he says.

You put Jasper down and he runs off presumably to get something for you.

“It’s no problem. I love being here.”

“Well, you know my schedule and everything about Jasper. I won’t have my phone on me so if you need anything, call Bucky. I asked him to be on call if anything happens.”

“Steve, don’t worry about any of this. I got this.”

“You’re the best.” He brings you in for a hug which causes you to stiffen up. His clothes don’t do a good job of hiding how strong he is. He is built like a monster even though he is one of the sweetest men you’ve ever known. “Oh, I’ll be home late. The team will probably want to hang out afterward, win or lose.”

“You guys are going to win,” you smile and pull away from him, “but I don’t mind staying a bit later. Be careful, it’s snowing a lot.”

“Nice to know you worry about me,” he winks.

Just like that, he’s gone. You let out the breath you’ve wanted to let out since seeing Steve in his uniform. Jasper comes back with a picture he was coloring shortly before you got here.

“Alright, Jas, what do you say? Want to surprise Daddy at work?”

“Yeah!” he giggles.

“Okay, let’s get ready.”

You were planning on going to the game with tickets you bought yourself, but what better way for Jasper to show his support than to be there for one of his dad’s games? Steve knows you love going to his games so he’s reserved seats for you if you ever wanted to go. It doesn’t matter if you go or not, those seats will always be available to you for every single game he plays.

You and Jasper get ready before getting into the car, and you make the careful yet short long ride to the stadium he’s playing in. The snow is coming down but not hard enough to keep people off the roads. Luckily, you’ve lived in New York all your life so you can navigate a few icy roads.

When you pay for parking, you two head inside and find your seats quickly. They are some of the best seats in the house, right in front. There is a small ledge between the glass and the wall that someone can stand on if they’re small enough. Jasper is only two, so his small feet fit perfectly on the ledge. You allow him to stand there while holding his legs so he doesn’t fall over.

Steve and his team skate onto the ice, and Jasper gets so excited that he starts doing a little dance and clapping his hands. Damn, he looks so good in his hockey uniform. He doesn’t have his helmet on yet since the game hasn’t started.

“Daddy!” he grins and taps on the glass with his tiny hands.

Steve skates around to get used to the feel of the ice beneath him. He looks at the audience in curiosity when his eyes lock on yours from across the rink. A smile breaks out on his face but he keeps himself from skating over to you. He waves at Jasper who waves back and you almost melt at how cute their relationship is.

The game is about to start but he is going to do his best to make every shot knowing you’re out there watching him.

The game starts off without a hitch, and you sit on the edge of your seat hoping Steve’s team wins. It’s neck and neck until the ref calls for a timeout to settle a disagreement on the points the Rangers just scored. Steve takes this moment to skate over to you and Jasper while taking his helmet off. He puckers his lips which means he wants a kiss from Jasper, and the small child kisses the glass since that’s the best he can do. Steve kisses the glass right over his son’s before winking at you.

It’s the smile combined with the wink that makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. Why did he wink at you? Was he hinting at something more? Was it just friendly? He’s sending you mixed signals that are making you confused, but the last thing you’re going to do is ruin it and confront him about it.

The rest of the game went really well for the Rangers, and they won 38-30 just as the buzzer sounded off. Everyone who is in the stands are Rangers fans, so almost everyone cheers for that team. Steve and his team had to get off the ice fairly quickly and into the locker rooms so you didn’t have time to catch him after the game. Plus, he did say that he and his team are going to hang out afterward, win or lose, so it’s time to pack up and get back home.

“Alright, did you like that game?” you ask Jasper when you walk into the house.

“Yeah! Daddy was awesome!”

“Yeah, he was,” you grin. “I’m glad you had a good time but it’s nearly bedtime. I’ll read you your favorite story.”

“Okay!”

“Go brush your teeth and I’ll be right there.”

He runs off to his room while you grab a boxed dinner from the freezer. It has to microwave for ten minutes so you pop that into the microwave and heat it before going to Jasper’s room. He’s not a fan of brushing his teeth at night which is why it only took him thirty seconds to do it, but you’re working on getting him to do it longer.

Storytime only takes six minutes because Jasper is wiped out by today’s events. He didn’t do a lot of running around but he did do a lot of cheering and eating stadium foods. Bedtime has always been easy for Jasper, which you are grateful for.

By the time you got changed into comfier clothes, your dinner was done. For the next two hours, you eat dinner, drink some wine that Steve bought specially for you, and watch one of your favorite TV shows that you’ve seen a million times.

You don’t even realize you fell asleep until Steve got home two hours after that. He shakes off the snow from his jacket before hanging it up and finds you sleeping on the couch with the TV on low volume. Your half-eaten meal and empty wine glass sit on the coffee table, and he lets you sleep a little while longer as he cleans up your mess quietly.

“Doll, wake up,” he whispers and moves some hair away from your face. 

You jerk awake but calm immediately when you see it’s Steve. You look at the time and almost curse because it’s so late. You weren’t meant to fall asleep but you had an extra glass of wine that put you right out.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“I don’t mind. I only woke you up because you can sleep on something much more comfortable than this couch.”

“No, I should just go home. It’s pretty late.”

You get up and stretch, and Steve can’t help but look at the patch of skin that shows when your shirt rides up slightly.

“Y/N, it’s snowing pretty bad out there. I had a hard time seeing the road while coming back. Just sleep in my guest room. Honestly, it’s not a problem.”

You should have said no. You should have insisted on going home, but you didn't. Instead, you nod in agreement and follow him to the guest room. You have kept some of your clothes in here from when you had to stay the night previously, so you use those for tonight. After brushing your teeth and doing half of your skin-care routine, you get into bed. Snow isn’t as loud as rain when it hits the window, but you can see it through the shadows and patches of moonlight outside.

It’s hard to fall asleep knowing Steve is only a few doors down from you. Suddenly, there is a knock on the door and you know Jasper didn’t do that. You get out of bed and tread through the darkness to the door. Steve is standing outside fiddling with his hands. There is enough moonlight to light up his face so you don’t bother putting the lights on.

“Is everything okay with Jasper?”

“Yeah, he’s okay. He’s sleeping. I just didn’t thank you for bringing him to the game today.”

“I was already planning on going and figured what harm could it do to bring him along? He had a lot of fun, and he loved seeing you on the rink. You played really well.”

“Yeah, I had someone I needed to impress out there.”

Your heart beats faster at his words but you try to keep the conversation neutral.

“Well, your son was very impressed by you.”

Steve raises his arms to lean them against the frame of the door and moves a bit closer to you. Even in the darkness, you can see how blue his eyes are.

“That’s not who I was trying to impress.” You don’t think you can say anything to him even if you want to. What would you even say? He leans in closer until there is only a few inches between you. “Were you impressed by me?”

“What are you doing?” you whisper.

“If you tell me you’re impressed, I’m about to kiss you. So, were you impressed?”

“Maybe a little,” you tease.

He leans in the rest of the way and kisses you, and just like that, everything between you two changes. He only kisses you that night but makes it a point to do so after every game he plays for the rest of the season. Even when the season is over and done with, he still kisses you as if you’re the only woman that matters to him… and you are.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[weebsinstash]

As much as I want to have children by this man, let's take a moment to sip our platonic yandere Miguel juice

-i can't decide which sex he'd be more partial to in a 'child'/you since in the movie there was Gabriella but in the comics he eventually has a son who becomes the next Spiderman but--

-as a girl i just naturally think of a lot of those sorts of gender specific ideas 👉👈 he's this big scary hulking intimidating threat and his "daughter" is the one melting his cold exterior

-doesnt matter if you're a grown ass woman, Miguel sees you struggling to braid your hair and suddenly here he is, full dad mode, doing it for you,and depending on how close you two are, maybe he disguises it with "ugh, stop spending so much time messing around with that. If I do it for you will you get back to work? 🙄", but really it's just your new self proclaimed dad/tio wanting to help braid your hair and help you feel pretty and, oh, how he can fondly remember the last time he helped braid "his daughter's" hair...

-of course this evolves to him just loving to do things with your hair. Braid it, wear it natural, style it, use products on it, hes got you. you were just trying to put your hair in a lazy updo like a ponytail or bun and this man doesn't let you leave until he's got you completely combed out, hair braided with ribbons, and of course this entire time youre awkwardly sitting there in a chair in his absolute cave of a workstation with this gargantuan 6'9 man there, "so how was your day? Staying out of trouble?"

-really I mean. Is stealing other people's kids NOT technically in character for him. You're unfortunate enough to trauma bond with this man and you're never getting rid of him

-you hear Miles Morales call him tio (as in the tio meaning dude) and you jokingly teasingly start calling him tio, which Miguel secretly pretends is the version that means uncle. You're just constantly joking around or looking up at him with these big pouty eyes, "but tio 🥺 can't I PLEASE--" and its like. Lmao people know that if they need to ask Miguel for a favor, that it increases their chances to have you ask in their stead

- I mean, as a female adult abused as a child by my own father, raised by a single mom myself, like...

Reader flinches away when Peter B goes to give you a supportive pat on the back or comes in for a high five after a mission and you force yourself to laugh because you're feeling more than just a little awkward and in the spotlight. "Oh, sorry, that was dumb!" And they eventually get you to kind of anxiously word vomit "my dad used to just kind of, rough me up sometimes when I did something wrong! It-it could've been a lot worse honestly, but, it-it just makes me kinda jumpy around guys sometimes! It's not a big deal, or personal or anything. I'm sorry if I made you feel bad 🥺"

Peter B, Jessica, and Miguel all there as older parental figures and also literal parents, immediately exchange looks and agree like "oh hell naw, don't like that" and you get silently adopted by all three of em right then and there

-if it's a physically abusive father and you're still the victim of abuse, I imagine your dad had some suspicious figures suddenly show up in the middle of the night to terrify and threaten the shit out of him and suddenly you aren't getting as manhandled anymore

-can you imagine, like, you show up to Spider Society one day with a black eye "oh, this? It's, it's nothing. My dad is just, he's about to make police captain and he's really stressed about it is all" cue all your friends mentally high fiving around the table because your abusive piece of shit dad is going to die and you don't even know. When it happens they'll all be "oh no, sweetie, I'm SOOOO sorry :(" meanwhile they're thrilled bc now you don't have any parents and they can weasel in there as your new family, schedule your birthday parties, monopolizing more of your time, things like that

-goddd I just imagine it could become some kind of weird fucked up enmeshed scenario where the structure it's providing for your life is actually good for you meanwhile Miguel is like, retroactively kind of soothing some of his trauma both from his own childhood and what happened with the second universe he broke that it's just like. You're a grown ass adult and this man is tucking you in goodnight and saying "te amo, mija" at the doorway and you bet his ass is going to stand there and not let you sleep until you say it back. He knows you're just absolutely seething at him and he'll still refuse to leave without a grumbling "te amo, papá 🙄"

-He eventually just has you doing so much shit and depending on him so much that it starts to become second nature to you. one day you're in the Society doing one of the odd jobs you're allowed to help with and suddenly you're thinking, "Ugh I actually don't know what to do next, I wish Papá was here to-- WAIT SHIT NO I MEAN MIGUEL--"

-lmaooooo as a non Spanish speaker I keep thinking of how awwwwwful it would be if he actually forces you to learn Spanish. Not inherently because there's anything wrong with Spanish, but, I'm not always smart, and I can just SEE him quizzing your ass, forcing you to have entire conversations in Spanish, always clicking his tongue or chuckling at you when you make a mistake and he just thinks you're so cute struggling to learn 🥰 man hears you're trying to take extra lessons from Miles and he instantly drops everything he's doing to go track the little scamp down. Insert meme "I can forgive being an anomaly but I draw the line at teaching Reader bad Spanish"

-siiiiiiigh eventually the day comes when you're in big danger and you need his help, maybe you disobeyed him and was hanging out with some other Spiders in another dimension when there was a sudden villain attack, and he comes to your rescue as a villain does something dramatic like has a gun to your head or a knife to your neck and the second you see him you're just overwhelmed wirh a sense of relief, calling out for him, calling him dad/tio/papá whatever, and he's just like 😭❤️ pumping his fist internally, like YES you are so grounded when you get back home but also 🥰 you finally called him dad without him having to twist your arm 🥰 nevermind if the "villain" who kidnapped you was actually a Spider who owed him a favor, and this whole thing was to teach you a lesson about listening to your Papá, that's not important ❤️

-Miguel who forces you to learn Spanish vs Miguel who forces you to be Catholic. I can excuse kidnapping and forced adoption but I draw the line at making me practice religion 💀 no but seriously, he probably does have certain morals and values he instills/forces upon you if he thinks you need them, and he'll probably be one of those fathers, "are you leaving the house dressed like that? Go change" and orders you not to hang out with certain people he doesn't approve of or thinks have bad character (like hobie lmao)

-bruh you two will be on a super serious important mission and this man will be like "it's dark, hold my hand so we dont get separated"

Eventually it comes to a point where you're, not perfectly behaved but, just about. If someone finds Miguel, it means you're not very far away, or vice versa. Members of the Society quickly learn not to make any advances on you or make any "adult" comments unless they want to get suspiciously hurt during a personal training session by the big boss himself. You think you're safe just cause Miguel isn't around? Nah, cause then you have Peter B and Jess keeping an eye on you, and, not that YOU'RE aware of the extent, but, if Miguel ever gets worried, he can just ask Lyla what you've been getting up to, since your modified little daypass has her installed into it and she can track your every move ❤️ helicopter parent? Oh honey, you have NO idea...

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Productive Ways to Make Up | Dean Winchester

✦ pairing — Dean Winchester x afab!female!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 2.1k

✦ request — Maybe taking charge of the plus size reader. Like hot angry rough sex. Spanking maybe? Idk that just seems like it would be a good one. Maybe just they get in a fight during the holidays. Like at the readers family’s Christmas party. Then dean takes charge of her and they have angry rough sex

✦ warnings — nsfw, teasing, hints of a fight, smut, spanking (reader receiving), angry sex, rough sex, fellatio, face fucking (reader receiving), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (please don’t do this), creampie, aftercare.

✦ author's note — changed this to a New Year’s party just to fit the date better.

════════════════════════

The fight got out of hand easily, as things often did with Dean. It was one of those fights that you didn’t know how escalated to this, on this day specifically when you needed him on his best behavior.

Your parents had been excited to finally see you for more than a couple of hours, happy that your hectic schedule had given you a break for New Year’s. You had to skip Thanksgiving and Christmas because you were out of town, your mom didn’t take it well. This party was supposed to be perfect for everybody.

Dean rarely made things hard for you, but he had to do it today, apparently.

You left early, making up an emergency with Dean’s brother. Poor Sam, you had to drag him into this just so your dad wouldn’t start hating your partner out of nowhere.

For the first time in a very long time, getting home was worse for your mood. Dean didn’t help, glaring at you as you peeled off your jacket as if you had done anything wrong, as if you started the stupid fight.

He grabbed you by the hips before you could leave the living room, grip tight and strong. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To the bedroom. Or am I not allowed?”

“Watch it,” he warned.

“I need to call my mom and assure her Sam isn’t dying.”

Dean pushed you against the wall to stop you, trapping you with his warm body to the cold wallpaper.

“Dean…” You struggled against his hold.

“Oh, honey, you know what you’re doing, don’t you?”

In most circumstances, you would wiggle against his hands just to egg him on. But this time, you honestly simply wanted to annoy him into letting you cross the living room and hopefully find the warmth of your cozy bed where you could call your mom and take a nap.

Dean had other plans. You hated that you weren’t as against them as you wanted to be. After all, it was a more productive way to take out your anger than yelling at each other in the middle of the half-empty living room on New Year’s Eve.

Your breaths mingled as both of you opened your mouths to say something. Dean took charge, as he often did with these things, and leaned in to kiss you.

A hand of his came up to grip your chin, forcing your mouth open to slip his tongue past your red lips. You squirmed, feeling your skirt ride up at the movement between the wall and Dean’s bulk.

“Don’t be a brat,” he gritted out. Yet he traced the outside of your thighs with both hands, forcing your skirt to bunch up at your hips. Humming against your skin, he manhandled you toward the couch.

His hands fell on your ass. He made it jiggle with a light spank, laughing when you gasped in surprise. “That okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you consented.

He immediately spanked you again. “Count for me.”

“One,” you mumbled as the first slap landed. Dean hummed, you could picture the smile on his face, and did it again. “Two.”

“See how easy everything is when you listen to me?” He sounded almost condescending. Slapping you again, harder, he waited for you to count once more before rubbing his hand over the spot he had just hit.

He made you count to ten, careful not to make you cry. No matter how pretty you looked with tears streaming down your face, this was clearly about control, not a punishment.

Rubbing your ass, Dean ripped your pantyhose and spread your legs open. “Of course you’re fucking dripping already.”

He sat on the couch and brought you onto his lap. You would probably ruin his new pants, but by the way he grabbed you and pulled you into a sloppy kiss, that was his intention.

You moaned as he pushed his tongue against yours. Before you could start enjoying yourself with the kiss, Dean pulled away. He even laughed when you whined.

“Be patient,” he told you. “You aren’t supposed to enjoy this too much.”

You pouted, naively thinking it would convince him. Dean wasn’t in a playful mood, he just wanted to remind you who was in charge and why. His grip on you tightened, bringing you flush against him.

The tent in his pants brushed against your sensitive skin. He purposefully drove you to move your hips backward, then forward. You rested your hands on his chest, grinding against him of your own volition.

"You're enjoying this, huh."

Dumbly, you hummed. His laugh almost snapped you out of it, but it was too late. You cried out as he stopped you from keeping grinding. It bordered on torture, feeling the texture of his pants on your bare skin, rough and so readily available for you to get off.

Dean pushed you to your knees and undid his pants in haste, pulling his cock out of his underwear swiftly. He petted your head for a moment, then tapped his cock against your cheek. “Open up.”

You did so, resting your hands on your thighs in expectancy.

He caressed your cheek before shoving his cock into your mouth, only careful not to get to your throat for a moment. As he hit your throat, you gagged from the force, then relaxed as your brain registered what was happening.

He groaned as you began to hollow your cheeks, thrusting his hips up and choking you with his cock. You gagged once again, balling up your fists. Not touching him was worse than the sensation in your throat, that one you weirdly enjoyed, something about him causing you to gag and slobber all over his cock simply did something to you.

He knew.

“Should have known this would shut you up.” He rutted his hips, groaning deeply as his cock slipped down your throat.

He grunted as your tongue slid along his cock, gripping your face tightly so he could fuck your mouth at a quicker pace. The only indication you got that he wanted to come was him pressing your face to his pelvis.

Before you could taste the familiar salty cum, he pushed you off his cock and caressed your neck with his thumbs as he regained his breath.

"On your back."

You understood he meant on the couch simply because you were sure he would never fuck you into the floor when your backs were so ruined from all the hunting. So you laid on the couch you had fucked on more times than you could count and waited for him to get inside you.

Dean showed you two fingers. "Keep these warm for me, yeah?"

You nodded and opened your mouth, eager to suck on his fingers. Dean cackled, shaking his head.

"Can't leave this pussy unattended, honey." He teased at your entrance, gathering the slick dripping down your labia. "So good for me," he mumbled to himself.

Sliding his middle and ring finger inside you, Dean hummed to himself. "Knew you'd be warm and ready for me."

Teasingly, he curled his fingers. You whimpered.

"More." You couldn't help yourself.

He started shoving his fingers in and out, thrusting like he had done this a million times before. He almost had. The lewd sounds bouncing against the walls made your skin grow hot, feeling yourself getting more aroused at the wet echoes.

You squeezed around his fingers and rolled into his hand. Dean tsked, shaking his head. He tried to hide his proud smile from you as best as he could, but the cockiness always won over. His thumb grazed your clit as he wiggled his digits inside you, crisscrossing them.

"You know what? Go ahead, fuck yourself on my fingers. Can't do all the work for you."

Rutting against Dean's hand, you allowed yourself to enjoy the tendrils of pleasure every time his thumb made contact with your clit and his digits became buried inside you. He would stroke against your movements when you would get too complacent, reminding you he was still in charge. As if you would have it any other way.

You gasped out his name, hands floundering in search of something to hold onto. Dean removed his fingers before you could even grasp your orgasm.

Taunting you, he licked his fingers clean. "You would have made your mess already if you hadn't been so difficult earlier. You know that, right?"

You mumbled a reminder, "You were difficult too."

"Take that back," he demanded, wrapping a hand around his hard cock.

You shook your head, frustrated to no end as Dean started to pump the cock you should have been riding already.

As if reading your mind, and somehow agreeing, he roughly grabbed your thighs and forced your legs open enough to slot himself between them. He slapped his cock against your clit, smirking when you jolted. He did it a couple more times, only stopping when he dragged his tip along your slit to wet it.

Dean coated his cock all over with your wetness, using his fingers to gather some more for good measure. The emptiness inside you grew. All of this was not only unnecessary but only dragged your so much-needed pleasure.

"Gonna fuck some manners into you, honey," he announced in glee as he pushed inside you.

"Uh-huh."

He hovered over you to kiss you, sticking his tongue into your mouth while holding your legs open. You panted as he thrust into you with little care of pace or rhythm, only worried about fucking you stupid.

"I can feel how badly you want to come already," he boasted, relentlessly pumping his cock into you like he would die if he didn't reach as deep as humanly possible. "Hold on," he insisted, almost desperate. "You gotta wait until I tell you to."

Just as you were going to hum in acknowledgment, he pulled out and forced a desperate cry out of you. Dean grabbed your hips, guiding you onto your knees and hands.

Pressing his chest to your back, he pushed back in. His hands moved to your belly, searching for the hem of your top; as he found it, he rode it upward. Some of his fingers were ice cold, leaving goosebumps all over your skin as his hands reached your breasts.

He pulled on your breasts as he pistoned into you, quickly and harshly, pushing your face into the couch. You gasped for air, whining as you ground back against him, chasing permission to come.

Dean wouldn't relent that easily. He dropped your breasts, wrapping an arm tightly around you whilst resting his other hand on your thigh. Slapping your clit, he started to pant in your ear. "You're so fucking close," he told you, as if you didn't feel like you were on fire.

His fingers drew circles on your clit, applying as much pressure as your desperate humps and his hurried thrusts allowed him to. "Come on," he encouraged you, "let go. Make a mess all over my cock."

His thrusts only slowed down long enough for you to ride your high, coming so close to using him to get off that you hoped you would remember to plant the idea of trying that out into his head. He picked up the pace again, taking advantage of your pulsing walls and your half-relaxed state.

"Inside?" he asked breathlessly.

"Yeah." You moaned at the overstimulation, hoping he would just come already so you wouldn't have to go through more of it right now. Maybe later.

Not only did he fill you with cum but he pushed it deeper with a couple of pumps, moaning through a string of curses. His embrace loosened around you, but Dean didn't let go.

With his chest against your back and ragged breath in your ear, Dean coaxed you into laying flat on your stomach. "You okay, baby?"

You hummed. "Yeah, all good."

He kissed your shoulder and slowly withdrew from you, slipping out. "Gonna clean you up," he told you before you could ask if something was wrong.

Cleaning you up with a damp rag, Dean caressed your skin soothingly. "Can you sit up and drink some water?"

You gave it a try, groaning as you turned around on the couch. Sitting up was especially daunting as your sore ass made contact with the cushioned seat.

"I..."

You looked up at him, glass in both hands.

"I'll run you a bath, then we'll call your parents and invite them over for dinner this weekend."

"Really?"

"Really."

By the end of the night, you called your mom from your warm bed, head on Dean’s chest while his fingers traced your back.

[begebege28]

My thoughts. Please don’t come for me.

Ever since that man is has been introduced back on our screens, and is now kissing Buck, it’s like we aren’t allowed to view Eddie anything other than, straight? It’s so interesting because we all over the years whether or not people shipped buddie, people viewed them as queer coded. Therefore, queer individuals identified and connect to their story. Now, we can’t because…… NOW it matters what’s canon in show? NOW, it matters what the actors say? REALLY NOW? Did we forget throughout the seasons, the SR and Oliver when discussing buck, classified him as straight… because at that time, he was. To buck and BuckTommy fans, you NEVER viewed buck as bi or queer coded DURING his previous relationships when he was CANONICALLY straight or when Oliver and co said he was straight in interviews? how he talked about his relationship with Natalia pre s7. Bi buck wasn’t even supposed to happen this season. So now they are tying to use Ryan’s comments as a “gotcha”…. They love to throw out the term “actual representation”.. but it’s like, you talk about “actual representation” but bi buck was simply a LAST MINUTE decision. They were gonna continue with buck and Natalia. But due to scheduling it fell though. Then it was gonna be buck and Lucy (same thing). Then Eddie and Tommy. AND THEN WE GET to buck and Tommy. They think Tim is master and this “great love story” but if that was the case, they would have planned them from the start. Not a last minute decision as Oliver admitted. Why have these scenes if you want the audience root for them. For example, their first date. Why include Eddie? Why make it awkward for buck. Why did Tommy leave buck stranded on the sidewalk looking like an idiot. It’s NOT Tommy didn’t have a right to leave. What we are saying is the “joke” wasn’t funny. Why even say it? Especially since Tommy is “so confident” Second, if Tommy knew he wasn’t ready, why continue with the date after buck made the “hot chicks” comment. He clearly saw and realized, and buck TELLING HIM. “THIS IS MY FIRST DATE WITH A DUDE, and IM AN ALLY”. Like…. It’s not rocket science. He led him on. Why not show the continuation of the date? They could have easily done that. But they mirror bucks and Natalias where they only showed like 5 minutes. Buck thought they were continuing with the date to go to the movie. Tommy couldn’t give him the benefit of the doubt. Especially he KNOWS what buck is going through… Tommy immediately, seconds after coming outside of the restaurant ordered the Uber and WAITED until he opened the door of the car to tell him. That’s fucked up and fuck him for that. Then they had buck apologize because he wasn’t ready to come out? LIKE HUH? Or Tommy’s continuation comments of being jealous of buck, the 118, and the way he belittles buck. “Enjoys while it lasts” after earning his medal? Like do you have to be a POS. WHY WHY for the life of me, have his LI say that if you have the audience to like him. The “daddy joke”. Really? In ANY other context, awesome! But there? I simply can’t. The way I have been watching since s1 and have never seen this much pushback to like a character or couple. None of bucks previous LI had this many “defenders”… AND HE ONLY HAS LIKE 15 minutes of SCREEN TIME. It’s weird.

Now, the plot hole that is 7x04 What stopped buck from reaching out to Tommy after the air hanger. NOTHING? He never called or texted… also, idk if anyone realized buck Tommy knew he was goi he to hang out with Eddie, and YET CONTINUED to invite buck… why show us the last maybe minute before they begin to talk about Eddie and where Eddie is NOW in the frame. Why didn’t they show the beginning where buck comes and meets Tommy? Buck getting upset at Eddie circling the basketball game? Buck grilling Christopher on his thoughts about Tommy? When did he care about Christophers thoughts before about his dads girlfriends or friends? Accusing Tommy of lying to get bonus points with Chris. You think he truly cared which movie is better? Why does he try to make him a bad guy to Maddie? He really didn’t have the time to talk to Eddie to go to the basketball game? Really? You mean to tell he HAD to wait until the gym scene? Or hell… even ask Tommy. When he does talk to Maddie after hurting Eddie, he says “i felt left out”. So that tells me something, he felt left out over not being able to do things with Eddie. the fact that buck didn’t know they were hanging out for 2 weeks? Not that he was trying to get Tommy’s attention

[futurepastme]

Prince!Merlin Au

I saw a TikTok of a guy saying how Kings in movies didn't seem to do anything when they should actually be surrounded by people all the time because they are THE RULERS and decided that Uther is just a bad King (shoking, I know) so I added this scene to my Au ≈ 1800 words English not my first language

The Pendragons and the Ambrosius sat together at the dining hall of Essetir's castle for breakfast.

After the Pendragons found out that Merlin was not only a prince but also a skilled sorcerer, Balinor wanted nothing more than to bring them back to the reluctant peace they once were before the whole thing happened. Enough to at least sign the treaty and have them leave without any more trouble.

Uther was still not completely satisfied with Merlin's punishment, even though he almost lost his life. Almost wasn't enough for spying on them for three years, but he knew better than to go against Balinor in his own kingdom.

Morgana, on the other hand, was having a very pleasant time. King Balinor was very charming and his stories entertaining and funny, you could really see where Merlin got his personality from.

Arthur was just miserable, he was mad but seeing Merlin almost fall to his death gave him some perspective. He would still scream at him when he gets a chance, though.

“And after that Mordred never listened to Merlin's fashion advices again” Balinor finished the story with a smile.

“I didn't know Merlin could be this mean,” Morgana said with a small laugh.

“That's because you never had him as a brother, trust me, that one was almost kind,” Mordred laughed as he drank his wine.

Just then they were interrupted by the sound of the doors opening, where a disheveled looking Merlin barged in.

“You're late!” Mordred said with a smirk. “and… sweaty?”

“Thank you, Mordred, I hadn't noticed” was Merlin's reply as he walked towards his place between Mordred and their father.

“I take it you're back from the western border?” Balinor asked, “Was it handled?”

“Hm,” Merlin agreed as he sat down, immediately making food fly to his plate as his goblet filled with water from a floating jug. 

“Western border… Mermaid problems?” Mordred asked

“Sirens” was Merlin's answer before digging into his food like a starved man.

“Wait, if sirens were the problem, why the hell are you sweaty?” 

Before Merlin could answer, the doors opened once again to reveal Balinor’s personal manservant.

“My Lords, my ladies, forgive me for the interruption.”

“Am I out of time, Frederick?” Balinor asked

“I'm afraid so, sire”

Balinor smiled as he stood up. 

“Well, this has been pleasant, but I'm afraid duty calls.”

“Uther, Prince Arthur.” He gave a small nod that was reciprocated.

“My love” he gave a kiss to Hunith's cheek before heading around the table where he reached Morgana. “My lady” and kissed her hand.

“This was delightful King Balinor, we should do it again” she smiled at him

“We shall, you're always welcome to join us if you please.”

Balinor started walking towards the door, Frederick right behind him, and he didn't even turn around as he spoke “Boys, I'm assuming I'll be seeing you at the meeting so…” and raised a hand in a small wave.

“See you, dad.”

“Meeting? What meeting?”

The Ambrosius brothers spoke at the same time.

“Don't worry, Your Grace, your servant was informed and should have adjusted your schedule accordingly.” Frederick answered Merlin's question before turning to his king “Are you ready, Your Majesty?”

The Pendragons watched curiously as King Balinor stopped a few steps from the main doors, his servant by his side.

“What are they doing?” Morgana asked no one in particular. 

Merlin smiled behind his wine glass as Mordred answered “He's getting the few details before going back on duty. Don't you do that in Camelot?”

“Before going back on duty?” Arthur asked

Just then, Frederick gave a nod to the guards at the door. The doors were opened and a group of well dressed men walked in immediately surrounding the King, all talking at the same time.

“Things work differently in Camelot.” Merlin answered Mordred's question while they watched the group leave with the King.

The doors barely closed before they were opened again, this time by Merlin's own servant, Will.

“No.” Merlin said before stuffing his mouth with more food

“Yes. C'mon, get your lazy ass off that chair.” Will waltzed towards Merlin with a piece of parchment.

“Buy me time” 

“Already did.” Will stopped behind Merlin's chair and prepared to read from his parchment.

“Who are you?” Came from Morgana 

“Forgive me, My lady. My name's Will, I'm His Grace's manservant” He smiled with a shallow bow. “I'm here to informe Prince Merlin that his time for breakfast is over and his duties await”

“I just sat down!”

“Well, it's not my fault, is it? You're the one that decided to run away and disappear for three years, and now has a ridiculous amount of work to make up for your stupid absence. Can I read this or not?”

Merlin nodded, still eating desperately.

“Alright, the knight training will be done by Sir Llywelyn, the King has decided he won't have you do any training before the duel tomorrow, instead you will have a council meeting in about half an hour.”

Merlin began rising from his seat, a goblet in his hand as he still chewed a piece of sweetmeat. 

“After that, you have clothes fitting, dragon scale inspection, you'll have to do a round through the citadel at some point to show yourself for the people, I recommend after that,”

Will followed Merlin around as he pat Mordred's head, kissed his mother goodbye and bowed for the Pendragons,

“And that is all for the morning, I'm still arranging your schedule for the afternoon so I'm assuming you'll have lunch at this time, but don't hold yourself to that, and you'll need a ‘I’m back home’ kind of speech ready before the end of the evening, but I'm not sure yet if you'll be giving it today, I'm waiting on Frederick to confirm that as well,”

They started walking to the same spot the King was before.

“At the door, you have Lord Wesley with a complaint about his dragon, Lord Rathmore has reports from the east village's that he would like to share with you before the meeting, Lord Bowers wants permission for a restoration of his manor at the Shallow Falcon Cliff, it will have to break parts of the mountain,”

Will continued his brief summary of what each Lord at the door wanted with Merlin while he finished his drink, once he was done he made his goblet fly back to the table where the remaining nobles were talking about the Prince.

“And that is normal? When do they get time to think or, I don't know, breathe?” Morgana was asking Prince Mordred.

“Well, Lady Morgana, you should recall that he already had time to breathe, he had a whole five minutes of breakfast before Will entered to take him, I'm not sure what you mean.”

“I never had Merlin following me around giving council meetings debriefs before they took place.” Arthur mentioned.

“Council meeting debriefs? That's not what Will is doing, Prince Arthur.” 

“Well, if those aren't debriefs then, what is he doing?”

Mordred pointed at his brother, now standing at the same place his father was before. The young servant that once walked a step behind him, reading names and tasks from his list, now walked to stand near the guards by the door, hands empty with no parchment to be seen.

Once again the Pendragons watched the door be opened by the guards and a large group of men walk in, except this time, differently from what happened with the King, the group of men was stopped by the servant before they had a chance to engulf the Prince in requests and demands.

“Hold on, Your Lordships, you know how it goes with His Grace. Papers to me, keep quiet and no running or pushing.”

One by one, the lords left their papers with Will before calmly entering the rest of the room and finally surrounding Merlin. After the last one was inside by the Prince, Will, with his hands full, walked back and was given a way to stand at his place by his prince.  

Only after Will gave Merlin a random paper from the pile they began to walk, at the same time the Lord which the paper belonged to started talking with Prince Merlin, and the group smoothly and almost quietly walked through the doors, leaving the dining room.

“Merlin doesn't like the overlapping shouting, neither does father but he tried Merlin's method once and it didn't go well. Frederick is too formal to tell a Lord to shut up, even if given permission by the King himself. Will handles them well.”

“Sorry, Prince Mordred but I still don't get it. What are they asking of the King and Crown Prince if not preparing them for the meeting?” Arthur asked again

“I'm afraid I'm the one who doesn't get it, Prince Arthur. The King and Crown Prince are currently ruling the Kingdom, they are simply doing their duties. Those are decisions that have to be made before the meeting, and after the meeting is done there will be more to make. The kingdom never stops, and neither does their rulers.”

“So��� what you're saying is that they have to make decisions about the whole of the kingdom by themselves at every moment of every day? Don't they have paperwork, training or open court?”

“Well, of course they do, but like I said the kingdom never stops, some decisions just can't wait for a group of old men to debate for hours on just one subject.”

Arthur looked at the closed doors and pictured himself in Merlin's place, walking down the hallways of his castle surrounded by old lords demanding immediate decisions out of him while he went from breakfast to a meeting, only to be met with more lords and decisions. Every day all throughout the day. He would lose his mind 

Despite his lingering anger with Merlin for his lies and treachery, he could feel certain admiration growing somewhere within himself.

The door opened once more, with a new servant.

“It's time, your highness” was all he said.

Once again Arthur watched as the last of the Ambrosius men followed the steps of the last two. The only difference was that at his door only three men were waiting for him.

Once again the door closed, and Arthur turned to find the wise eyes of queen Hunith staring at him, a small smile gracing her face.

King Uther, Prince Arthur and the lady Morgana finished their breakfast with the pleasured company of queen Hunith, and even though the Queen could keep a conversation as well as the King, with the same amusing stories and anecdotes, the minds of the three Camelot residents still lingered on the image of three tall heads of dark hair surrounded by loud voices following them as they walk.

[justjensenanddean]

Jensen Ackles Solo Panel | JIBCon 2023 (June 17, 2023)

(NuttyForAckles)

Jensen was headbanging to Smells Like Teen Spirit with Jason, then mentioned that he has that "writer‘s strike hair flow". (x)

jensen will be at the monday concert (x)

‘Take the guitar away, I’ll just sing on Monday!’ (x)

Monday‘s band will be called "No Rob". (x)

Jensen has always wanted to go to Brazil. But when he finally got there, they had so much work to do that he had to stay in the hotel and he never left. He didn’t get to meet locals or see anything. In his mind he hasn’t been there yet. (x)

His prep for Beau Arlen & Ben? Since he didn’t have the history he had with Dean, he had to dig into personal feelings. (x)

Jensen has a major short term memory to learn lines but his long term memory isn’t as good. He has intense scenes and then purges the feelings. (x)

As Beau, he took what he’d feel if the things were happening to his daughter and then tailored it a bit. A lot of Dean was him. As Soldier Boy, for the scene with Butcher about his dad, he dove into Dean and John, because he has a good relationship with his dad. (x)

And in the end he just pretended. Some people can do it and some can’t. Some can paint, some can write, some can do Math. He can’t draw a stick figure, but he can *play* (x)

Dean and Soldier Boy were both just looking for their father’s approval. Jensen jokes that he wondered if he was being type cast. Ben had an opportunity to make it better with his son & grandson, but in the end he reverted back to his DNA. (x)

jensen said that for emotional scene he filmed for soldier boy (about soldier boy's father) he leaned into dean's relationship with john (because jensen has good rs with his own father) (x) he joked about getting type casted for characters with basically daddy issues (x)

Jensen and Jared have both been invited to Hot Ones and wanted to do it years ago, but they couldn’t work it out. And now they have stars so big, he probably won’t get invited anymore. (x)

someone asked about the rumors about batman and jensen was like “i don’t know” “even i know about it i’m not telling you” and he started laugh. (x)

What about being in a top 3 list to play Batman? He doesn’t know, but even if he would know, he wouldn’t tell us. Could he do it? Sure. Does he want to? Yes. (x)

‘When I’m Batman, does my voice have to be… much different?’ (x)

Musical interruption. Jensen is confused and wants to keep answering questions. (x)

The music indicated that he had to spin the wheel. It lands on “drink” and he hugs the wheel, “it’s like it knows me”. He doesn’t actually pour one though but goes back to answering. (x)

(NuttyForAckles)

There were many scenes surrounding the Impala where Jensen had to become Dean and he’d yell at the team when they were driving it or when Jared banged against the car or fart in it. “Not on the seat, she’s been through enough.” So he knew he had to own the car. (x)

One of his old friends got offered Eric Brady on DooL and he called Jensen before accepting. Jensen said “great, knock it out of the park.” (x)

Apparently Mr Rhodes, his first job, was a multicamera sitcom. It was the best schedule he’s been on so far. Soap Opera is next because they have 40+ actors. They will shoot all 80 pages his character has consecutively, shoot an hour or two. They produce one episode in 1hr (x)

You start by 9 am and get a few short breaks, end of the day, 7:30 pm, 80 pages done and he can go home. Daytime actors don’t get enough credit for having to jam in so much story in a short time. On The Boys they get 15 days for 1 episode. (8 on SPN). (x)

One of the actresses on DooL told him first day „hit your mark, say your lines, stay out of my light“. He said „yes ma’am“, earned her respect and she took care of him big time later. (x)

When he went to lunch with Alison Sweeney, who played his evil twin sister, she got heckled and Jensen defended her immediately. She told him to stop because if people hate her, that means she‘s doing her job. (x)

Rich tells us that Jensen is a sitcom and he has his own catchphrase. He plays Jensen entering the set at morning or any room late. "What are we doing?" He has developed a special greeting with Richard out of it. (x)

(NuttyForAckles)

Jensen spend several birthdays in Brad Creasser‘s house, with his wife cooking him dinner. He‘s a good friend of Richard‘s too. Rich acts out a scene on set one day and Jensen is in tears. (x)

When Jensen walked on set of Big Sky, he also went "What are we doing?" Nobody answered, so he repeated it louder. (x)

(Julie_Fleming)

[thevioletcaptain]

So I've been quiet on here a lot longer than planned.

The reasons are many. The reasons are varied.

The reasons are mostly fucking horrible.

Under a cut because it's long. Check tags for content warnings.

First was the expected absence: my parents came to visit me in Los Angeles over my birthday, so I spent the first half of October showing them around whenever I wasn't working a shift at my shitty department store day-job, or in class at UCLA.

Then, almost immediately after they went back to Australia, I got a second job working as a personal assistant for a composer. This was (and is) an extremely fun and rewarding job, but meant having one more thing on my weekly schedule, which was an adjustment.

Given that until halfway through last year, I'd been out of work since I immigrated in 2019, it took a while for me to get used to having so many concurrent responsibilities, and I'd just started to get a handle on things when I got sick right before the holidays. I took many covid tests -- all negative -- and eventually determined that it was just last year's strain of flu, which I hadn't managed to find time to get the shot for due to the aforementioned super busy schedule. I'm almost positive it was thanks to a particular customer at the aforementioned shitty department store job who coughed hard enough in my direction for their germs to get through my n95.

Anyway, last year's flu was a monster, and I spent a week in bed with a fever, then several more weeks being utterly drained and with a horrendous cough to match. It took a full month for me to recover, and then in mid-January, almost as soon as I started to catch up on all the things that had fallen behind while I was sick, things got bad, then good, then worse, then better, then much, much, much worse.

Basically, it starts with my dad being diagnosed with prostate cancer. He'd told me in October when they came to see me, but the surgery was scheduled for the tail end of January.

The surgery happened on a Monday, and it was a complete success. They got it all in one go. No chemo or radiation or further treatment needed at all. I spoke to him on the phone after he woke up, and he was in good spirits. Happy to have been given the all clear by his doctors.

I told him to watch Star Trek: Strange New Worlds & Evil while he rested up at home, because I'm writing specs for both this year and wanted him to be able to read them and know what was going on. He's the one who got me into sci-fi and horror, after all.

He went home.

He was home for two days.

He started feeling a bit rough on the Thursday. Short of breath. No appetite. Mum took him back to the hospital, just to be safe.

Turns out he'd had a mild heart attack. They couldn't figure out why. The echocardiogram didn't show any issues with his heart.

Then over the next couple of days, his breathing got worse. They took a scan of his lungs, and found that they were extremely inflamed. They'd given him covid tests but they came back negative. We told them about a work accident he had about 20 years ago, where a switchboard he'd been working on exploded in his face, and he'd suffered from inhalation burns among other things.

They thought that maybe something during the prostate surgery had caused irritation in his already damaged lungs, which put stress on his heart and caused the mild heart attack. He's never had any issues with his lungs since that accident, but they thought that maybe he'd just adapted to the damage over the years without realizing.

They kept trying different treatments to help his lungs heal. Nothing seemed to work. His breathing kept getting worse. They had him on as much oxygen as possible without intubating him, but it wasn't enough, so over that weekend they decided that they'd need to move him to another hospital with a more specialized lung unit.

When they were preparing to do that on the Monday night, he crashed. Another heart attack. Bigger, this time. They intubated him. Sedated him. Called my mum and told her to come in right away because things looked so bad.

But then he rallied. By the morning, though he was still sedated and intubated, the doctors were confident that with the right treatment at the specialized lung unit at the other hospital, he'd be okay. He was still in a rough condition, but stable. They transferred him to the other hospital.

He was given another covid test. This one came back positive.

My mum and brother called me once it was a reasonable time in Los Angeles to let me know what was going on, and the next day my brother booked me a flight back to Australia. I had to leave for the airport about five hours after my ticket was booked.

I got to Melbourne on February 1st.

For the next two weeks, dad was intubated, sedated, and in an isolation room. Every few days, they scanned his lungs again, and they were slowly improving.

Finally, he stopped testing positive, and was moved to a regular room in the ICU. Then he healed enough for them to extubate him and wake him up.

On February 13th, he was conscious enough to squeeze my hand when we went in to see him. On February 14th, he was conscious and capable of talking enough to ask a nurse in his ward to bring him his phone, and called mum first thing in the morning to wish her a happy Valentines Day.

Two days later, on Friday 16th, his lungs looked good enough on scans that they felt it was safe to do an angiogram, which they wanted to do just to double check that there weren't any issues with his heart that they missed with the echo.

They did the test. They found massive blockages. 90% blockage in one artery; significant blockages in two others.

Even though he'd barely recovered from covid, the blockages were bad enough that they scheduled him for open heart surgery on Monday 19th. They said without surgery there was a 100% chance that the blockages would cause another massive heart attack that he would not survive. They said there was about a 20% chance that he'd have complications, but only about 4% that they'd be serious/life threatening.

Like before, the surgery went well. Triple bypass, in the end. We got a call late on Monday afternoon to say that he was in recovery and looking good. His heart was functioning perfectly. They'd bring him out of sedation that night. Keep him in the ICU one or two days just as the standard post-op procedure. He'd spend a week or so in a cardiac ward after that, then head to a physical rehab ward for a couple of weeks until he could build back the muscle mass he'd lost while sedated.

We went in to see him the next day. Tuesday 20th. His 66th birthday.

He was tired, but looked good. Color in his cheeks. He made a couple of jokes. We left after about 45 minutes because he was pretty worn out, and we wanted to let him get some rest.

But then after, that his breathing started to get bad again. By Wednesday morning, they'd switched out the oxygen prongs in his nose for a big, high-pressure mask again. They called to let us know they were going to intubate him again so he could rest while his lungs recovered a bit more.

They struggled to get the tube in.

His lungs were deteriorating badly. He kept getting worse. We couldn't go in to see him because they were working on him all day.

At 9pm we got a call to say that he was just getting worse. They had him on 100% oxygen. He just wasn't absorbing it. His entire body was under massive strain. They were doing everything they could, but he just wasn't improving.

They said we should go in right away.

We got there by 10pm. My brother and his wife arrived about the same time. We went in to see him. He didn't look good. He looked pale. But he was warm, and he'd come back from the brink before, and we were sure he could do it again. We stayed with him for about an hour, and left not long after 11pm. Went back to my brother's place because they live closer to the hospital.

We were there about half an hour before they called us again. Just after midnight. He was gone.

That was about a week and a half ago, now. It still doesn't feel real. He was only 66. He hadn't even retired yet. He was working full time up until the week before Christmas, and had planned on going back to work a few days a week after he'd recovered from surgery. He never had any heart trouble, or lung trouble. He was active. He was fine.

My wife Zel and her mom flew in a couple of days after it happened. I barely remember anything from the past two weeks. Everything just feels fake.

I've been trying to write something to say at the funeral, which we've finally been able to arrange for next week -- it was delayed because we had to wait for dad to be released by the coroner. I don't think I'll be able to do it.

Anyway. That's where I've been.

It'll probably be a little while longer before I'm around here much, let alone posting with any regularity, because I'll be in Australia helping my mum & and my brother sort everything out. I have no idea how long I'll be dealing with stuff, or when I'll be able to make words cooperate enough to post anything, but I'll be back eventually.

I'm trying to keep an eye on Discord (I'm violetmatter over there) so you can find me there if you want. But yeah, I just wanted to let you guys know why I've been so quiet.

[joekeeryswife]

u should defo do a fic where r breaks something at steve’s house and she’s apologising and crying and starts panicking & steve just comforts her bc he knows the feeling all too well bc of his dad

ur writing is literally terrific love 💕💕

Picture frame - s.h

hello love, thank you for your request! i hope this is okay, i am not really liking my writing atm. this is really short and i hope that’s okay. feedback is always appreciated and my requests are open- enjoy x (also did i have a mental break down about Steve possibly dying in season 5? yes. a lot of crying has been done)

taglist (feel free to add yourself 🤍):if there is a line through your @ i can’t tag you x @eddieamoremio @johnricharddeacy @theshireisonfire @ssababe @snackycake1975.

it was late and you were tired, so tired that Steve had to put his arm around your waist to keep you up right so you could walk to the door. Steve had taken you on a date which was rare. you were both so busy all the time with working, you both had different schedules and it was hard to figure out a day where you were both free.

luckily this weekend you were both off so a date night was 100% needed. he’d taken you to a restaurant and then to the movies, it was just the cutest date and it suited both of you. you were in Steve’s house more then you were in your own and it was all because of your dad, like Steve, you and your dad didn’t get along.

he was just one of those dads who hated their daughters and loved their sons. you had two older brothers and one younger one and it was like you were the outcast. you got along with your mum though, she was always on your side and stuck up for you when your dad shouted but there wasn’t a lot she could do.

to your dad, anything you did was wrong. he’d shout at you to the point where the neighbours would call the police with a noise complaint because of how loud he was. this is why you loved staying at Steve’s, it was quiet and comforting and you never felt scared being with him.

Steve’s house was dark and you being tired and disorientated you had no idea where Steve was leading you to. Steve knew you were tired. he could tell as soon as you got out of the cinema that the moment your head would hit his pillow you’d be out like a light.

Steve had to go into the kitchen to finish the dishes before his parents came back (which he had absolutely no clue when they would) because the last time they came back unannounced, per usual, he hadn’t cleaned up the house to the ‘family standard’ and was shouted at by both his parents for being too lazy when they went off for different business trips.

he carefully laid you down on the couch and kissed your forehead before he made his way to the kitchen. you didn’t wanna be on the couch, all you wanted to do was be in Steve’s bed with his hoodie and joggers on so you did the only logical thing, got up off of the sofa and started making your way to Steve’s bedroom still half asleep.

the next thing you heard was glass smashing which woke you up out of your sleepy state. you immediately went down to the floor and saw it was a picture of Steve and his parents. the glass on the picture frame had smashed all over the floor and the wooden part had also broken. you instantly felt tears welling up in your eyes.

the last time you had broken something was in your house and you had gotten screamed at for it by your dad. you had absolutely no idea how Steve would react, would he be mad? would he shout at you? so many negative thoughts ran through your mind as you picked up all the big bits of glass and put them in your hand.

Steve heard the smashing and quickly left the dishes to find you on your hands and knees picking up shards of glass with thick tears rolling down your face. Steve could see a little bit of blood on your hand, you’d definitely cut it on the glass. you heard Steve’s footsteps approaching you as you kept picking up the glass but it was difficult with how teary eyed you were.

you looked up and saw Steve towering over you with a confused look on his face. the only thing you knew what to do was apologise and beg for forgiveness. you didn’t want Steve to shout at you but you had broken something of his and surely he was going to be mad. “i’m so sorry Steve. i didn’t even see the picture and i should of been looking and i’ll-”

Steve bent down to your level and lifted his hand to wipe away the tears which were falling down your cheeks quickly. “baby, it’s okay. it’s only a picture frame” he gave you a genuine smile to try and calm you down but it was no use.

your tears were still falling, if Steve wasn’t mad then his parents most definitely would be “but i broke it” Steve had never heard your voice like this. so soft yet so weak. it honestly broke his heart. “by accident. it’s only a picture frame sweetheart. it can be replaced. now, let me see your hands”

he watched as you opened your hands up for him to see and saw some bits of glass in your left hand were covered in blood. he started to pick the glass out of your hands and put them on top of the picture and once all of the glass was out of both of your hands he took your hands into his. “come on, we need to clean you up baby”

you and Steve stood up from the floor and he guided you to the kitchen. Steve started cleaning up your hand and you watched intently as he did so. he was gentle and made sure he didn’t hurt you. “i’m really sorry Steve” he shook his head and lent down to place a quick kiss on your cheek. “stop apologising. it’s honestly fine honey” Steve knew how your dad was and he also knew what it was like for a parent to dislike their kid, he’d lived through it himself.

when he saw you sobbing on the floor like that he knew his only approach should be a soft one. you hadn’t done anything wrong and it didn’t matter. it was a picture frame. Steve always wanted you to feel loved and that’s why he was always so gentle with you when you were upset, he loved you so much and nothing would ever change that, even if you did break another picture frame his feelings would never change.

[kingofmyheart-19]

Begin Again - Chapter 2

Mack POV

Alex is staring at me and shakes her head.

"Mack, I'm so sorry."

I bob my head, "It's okay. I mean, it's not, but you don't have to apologize."

She smiles sadly, "I do. I'm sorry for your loss."

I nod, "Thanks."

She sighs, "Can I ask what happened?"

I nod, "Car accident. She was coming home from work."

"That's horrible, Mack." She reaches her hand out and covers mine.

Her hand is warm and comforting, it feels like it's always been there.

'It feels like Ally's.'

"It was. Riley took it really hard. I mean I did too, but Riley didn't understand. I don't think she will fully understand for a while."

"That makes sense." She says and pulls her hand away.

I immediately miss the contact.

I sigh and wipe my face, "So what do you do?"

She chuckles, "I play soccer."

"Like professionally?"

She nods, "You know, most gay women know who I am."

I feel my cheeks heat up.

"I'm just kidding. Well, I mean I'm not, but I'm just teasing. Yes, professionally. I play for Wave FC."

I bob my head, "That's so cool. I want to come to a game."

My eyes widen and she laughs, "Well good, because I want you and Riley to come to our next one."

I smile.

"What do you do?"

"I'm a teacher. High school English to be exact."

"Wow, that's awesome."

I nod, "Not as awesome as being a soccer player."

She chuckles, "But being a teacher changes kids lives. I bet you're a cool teacher."

I shake my head and laugh, "Only for my students who are doing their best."

She smiles and I feel butterflies.

"So where's Charlie tonight?" I ask.

"She's at her dad's, we're divorced." She says.

I nod, "Oh."

She sighs, "It's fairly recent. Like a few months, Charlie is still getting used to it."

I bob my head, "That has to be hard."

"It is, but we alternate weekends."

"Are you guys amicable at least?" I ask.

"Mostly. Like we argue about small things. He doesn't always love my soccer schedule, but we make it work." She says.

I stare at her.

'God, she's so beautiful.'

"Where's Riley tonight?" Alex asks.

"My mom came over. Riley, she doesn't- well she's really attached to me. It's hard to have a sitter, so I mostly use my mom."

She softens, "She lost one mom, she's afraid to lose another."

I sigh and nod, "Exactly."

She smiles softly.

"So, who are you here with?" I ask.

She shakes her head, "A few of my teammates who are convinced that I need to start dating."

My eyes widen, "Oh."

I start to stand up, "I can let you get back to uh-that. You shouldn't sit out here with me."

She chuckles and grabs my hand, "I'm exactly where I need to be."

I look at her hand and feel my face heat up.

I slowly sit back down and look up.

"What was your wife's name?"

I stare at her and smile, "Ally."

She bobs her head, "Did Ally ever tell you that the tips of your ears turn red when you're embarrassed?"

I nod and chuckle, "Yeah. All of the time, would call me adorable."

My phone buzzes, which snaps me out of staring at Alex.

I grab it.

Mom: She's asleep. Took a few Disney movies and more stories than I can count, but she's up in your bed.

I let out a breath.

"Everything okay?"

I set my phone down and look up, "Yeah, just my mom letting me know that Riley is finally asleep."

She smiles, "Well that's good."

I smile, "Really good, she usually gives my mom a harder time. But she's in my bed."

She chuckles, "That's cute. Charlie will crawl into bed with me too."

I smile and have this moment where I imagine being in bed with Alex. Riley and Charlie crawling into bed with us and sleeping like a fam-.

"Mack?" I shake my head.

She chuckles, "You like zoned out."

I smile softly at her, "Sorry, was just thinking."

She bobs her head and looks at her watch.

"Past your bedtime?" I tease.

She shakes her head and bites her lip, "No, but um- I was hoping that you'd want to go for a walk on the beach?"

I look down at my ring finger on my left hand and bob my head, looking up.

"Sure." I say.

She stands up and I stand too, "Hold on, let me tell Lauren that we're heading out."

She smiles and nods, "Meet outside."

I nod and head to find Lauren who is dancing with some girl.

I wave and she stops then walks over, "Hey!"

"Hey, I'm going to head out with Alex." I say.

She smiles, "Have fun, but not too much fun."

I glare, "I'm not ready for that, we're just going to the beach to walk and talk."

She gives me a thumbs up, "See yah!"

I watch her go back to dancing and head out front to see Alex.

She sees me and smiles, "Ready?"

I nod, "Yeah, let's go."

Alex POV

We start walking and make it down to the beach.

"Okay, so you're a professional soccer player?"

I nod.

"So have you always played here in San Diego?" She asks.

I chuckle and shake my head, "Okay. You really are going to need a rundown."

She smiles.

"Okay so for starters, I grew up outside of LA, so I played there. Then went to Berkeley and played there."

She nods, "So Berkeley? You're like a super genius then?"

I shrug, "I mean I'm smart, yeah. Super genius? No."

She laughs, "Okay, then where?"

"I played on two teams here in California then those leagues folded and a new league started, which I went to New York. After that, went to Seattle. Now, a new league formed and I went to Portland, was there until 2016. There, I got traded to Orlando to follow my ex. I then did a stint in France for like six months."

I turn and see her trying to following along and chuckle.

"Okay so stayed in Orlando, but during Covid, went to North London."

She stops walking, "Wait, when did you have Charlie?"

"In 2020, after the World Cup-"

"The World Cup?! Wait, you're on the national team?"

I laugh and nod, "Yup, kind of a big deal."

"Seriously. Okay keep going."

"Okay after coming back to Orlando, I asked for a trade in 2021. So I've been here since last year."

"Whoa. Wait it's 2023. Isn't it a World Cup year?"

I nod, "It is. Going to be gone like all of July and August."

"Whoa." Mack says.

I chuckle, "It's a lot, I know."

"I mean. That's a resume. You've been everywhere."

I nod, "I have, but I like being here the most. The beach, my family, the city. I really love it."

We start walking again and she nods, "That makes sense. My mom moved here after Ally died."

"Where did she live before?" I ask.

"Philadelphia. That's where I'm from, actually."

"Nice. I've played there." I say.

She smiles, "So, do you have siblings?"

I nod, "Two sisters, they're both older. You?"

"I have an older brother and a younger sister."

"What about your dad?" I ask.

"Oh. Uh, he's not really around. He hasn't been since I was pretty young."

I stop walking, "Oh, I'm sorry."

She shakes her head, "It's fine, he just- he was a drunk, cheated on my mom, and then just left us."

"Wow. That's horrible."

I start walking again.

"It was, but it's okay. So when's your next game?"

"Sunday actually." I say.

"Sunday. Okay, Riley and I will be there." She says.

"I'll get you guys tickets." I say.

She laughs, "Okay, cool. Can my mom come?"

"Sure, I'll get her a ticket too." I say.

While we're walking, our hands keep brushing and I feel butterflies.

We start heading back to the bar and Mack stops, "I uh, how did you get here?"

I chuckle, "Took an Uber, you?"

"I drove and I promise I'm sober, so can I-uh drive you home?"

"You want to drive me home?" I ask.

She looks up and nods, "Definitely."

"Okay, let's go." I say.

We get into her car and I look at her, "So, why a teacher?"

She shrugs, "I love learning. I love watching others learn and I feel like I'm making a difference."

I smile, "You are making a difference. What did Ally do?"

"She was a surgeon."

"Wow, she was a super genius then."

She smiles and nods, "She was, I mean she went to medical school at Johns Hopkins."

"You know, I haven't really talked about her to anyone." She continues.

My eyes widen, "Oh my god. I'm sorry, Mack. I can stop asking-"

She grabs my hand, "No, don't. It's easy to talk about her to you. I think because you didn't know her and your not analyzing me like my therapist. So please keep asking."

I go to pull my hand away, but she keeps holding it.

I smile, "Okay. So how'd you guys meet?"

She laughs, "Bad dancing."

"Bad dancing?" I question.

She follows the GPS and turns into my neighborhood.

"Yeah. At a party in college. I was drunk and dancing horribly. She laughed at me and offered to help, dancing with me. The rest is history." She says.

I laugh, "Wow. That's- I want to see these bad dance moves."

She shakes her head, "Yeah, no. Never."

I squeeze her hand, "I'll get you to dance, promise."

She laughs, "Okay, whatever you say."

"Whoa. Big house." She says.

I look over and smile, "Yeah, my dream house."

I turn back, "See you Sunday?"

She smiles, "Maybe before?"

I chuckle, "Definitely. Text me."

"I will."

She pulls her hand away and I immediately crave the contact.

"Okay, night, Mack."

"Night, Alex."

I get out and watch as she pulls away.

I walk inside of the house.

'A big, empty house.'

Mack POV

"Mommy!" I open my eyes and groan.

"Mommy, wake up!" Riley says.

I smile and roll over, tickling her.

"Mommy! Tickle monster!!" She squeals.

I stop and kiss her nose, "Morning, monkey."

"Morning, mommy! I missed you last night." She sighs.

"I missed you more." I say and squeeze her tight.

"Pancakes, momma?"

I smile, "Yeah, let's go!"

She gets out of bed and races down the stairs.

I rollover and look at the picture on my nightstand.

'Is it okay to move on, babe? Give me a sign.'

I get up and get downstairs to see Riley with Max on the couch.

"Okay, blueberry or chocolate chip?" I ask.

She turns, "Chocolate chip, just like momma liked!"

I smile and nod, "Coming right up."

I walk to the kitchen and start pulling out everything needed.

I go to start making coffee and groan when I realize I have none.

I'm starting to wallow in self-pity when I get an idea.

I pull out my phone and create a new message.

Me: Good morning. How do you feel about saving an idiot who ran out of coffee but so desperately needs some.

I set my phone down and continue making pancakes when my phone starts going off.

Alex: I'm assuming this is Mack, and I'll get some and be right over. Just send me your address.

I smile and send her the address and continue flipping pancakes.

I finish up and hear the doorbell.

"Mommy! Someone is here!" Riley says.

I walk to the door and open it, smiling when I see Alex with coffees.

"My savior." I sigh and reach out.

She chuckles and I hold the door open for her to come in.

"Charlie's mommy! Where's Charlie?" Riley asks while running in.

"Hi Riley! Charlie couldn't come today, but I'm hoping that I can hang out with you?"

She thinks about it, "Do you like Bluey?"

"I love bluey!" Alex says dramatically and I stifle a laugh.

"Do you like pancakes? Mommy makes the best pancakes."

"I do love pancakes too." Alex says.

Riley nods, "Okay, you can come."

She turns and heads to the kitchen.

"Wow, all I need to come over apparently is coffee and loving a kids TV show and pancakes." She says.

I smile and nod, "We're easy to please."

"Is that so?" She smirks and walks towards the kitchen.

My mouth hangs open and I shake my head while walking into the kitchen.

'Did she just...?'

[makeitmingi]

Cause Baby You're My Muse [Chapter 35]

Genre: Romance, Idol!AU, Music, Slight angst

Pairing: Mingi x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Producer!Reader, IdolLyricist!Mingi, IdolProducer!Hongjoong, Idol!Seonghwa, Idol!Yunho, Idol!Wooyoung, Idol!San, Idol!Yeosang, Idol!Jongho, cameo(s) by other celebrities

Summary: You always preferred producing underground, having an unknown face and governed by your own rules. But when you start freelancing for idol groups, you say goodbye to your lone wolf lifestyle as you learn to work with idol producers and lyricists.

Word count: 3.2K

When you alarm rang, you blankly reached over to turn it off. Your arm fell limply in front of you. You haven't been able to sleep much the past few days, working yourself to the bone. Work was the only thing that could take your mind off things.

'Hey, Eden. I'm not feeling too well so I'll be working from home today. - Prod. Indigo'

'If you're not feeling well, you should just take a rest day! You're ahead of your progression schedule anyway, Indigo. A day of break won't hurt you. - Eden'

'No, it's fine. Ping me for the progress meeting later. - Prod. Indigo'

'Fine... Because I know even if I say no, you'll somehow sucker someone else into pinging you in. - Eden'

You left your phone on the nightstand and turned to face the ceiling. Even if it was just your paranoia, you haven't even been in much contact with Hanuel. You were worried about her safety.

'Hi, baby! Going to practice now! Things have been going well. Have a great day :] - Mings'

Thankfully, Mingi had become busier too so you didn't have to lie to him. He only calls you for a short while or texts you periodically. He hasn't even had the time to drop by. You knew he felt bad and you both missed each other dearly but maybe it was for the best, a blessing in disguise.

The threatening messages have even been coming in on your ghost servers, making you temporarily close them. But you weren't really concerned about that since it was a ghost server.

For those, you made sure to take picture proof in your phone just in case you wanted to go to the authorities.

*DING DONG*

You sat up immediately as the sound of someone knocking your front door. You waited for a while to see if the person would go away.

"Indigo. It's me."

Hearing the familiar voice, you relaxed. You got out of bed and went to open the door for San to come in. He had a few bags by his feet and a tray of drinks.

"What are you doing here, San?" You blinked in confusion, taking the tray from him so he could bring the bags in.

"I heard Eden hyung telling the other producers you were unwell so I came to check in. I brought some porridge and tea for you." He smiled. You melted at his words. Knowing that Mingi was busy, the other boys had all been very attentive and caring to you.

"Thank you, Sannie. That's really sweet of you." You locked the door and went over to where he was unpacking the stuff he brought in the kitchen. There was a lot.

"I also got some vitamin drinks. My dad said this brand is really good so you don't feel so tired." He pointed.

"You didn't need to get so much." You chuckled.

"You've been working so hard in the studio, skipping meals and not sleeping. You need the supplements." San argued. He put the cold stuff in your fridge while you got bowls and cutlery out.

"Does Mingi know you're here?" You asked as you poured the porridge into two bowls.

"No...? I don't need to tell him I'm here. This is your home. And don't forget, we were a family before you started dating Mingi hyung. I don't need his permission to come care for you. I was closer to you before he was anyway." He scoffed, sounding almost offended. Seeing the small pout on his face made you laugh.

"I know that, Sannie. And I don't mean anything bad. It was just a question." You giggled. San still had a displeased pout on his face, making you pinch his cheek.

"Let's eat first." You said, putting the small dishes of kimchi in the middle of the two porridge bowls.

"Thank you for the food. And thank you for bringing this to me." You smiled gratefully. Only then did San smile shyly, picking up his spoon.

"I would have made it myself like my omma but I didn't want to do it wrong and end up making it taste horrible. You should be feeling better, not more sick." San rubbed the back of his neck.

"No, it's okay. I know you're busy. You coming and bringing makes me feel better already."

"I'm glad then." He smiled.

"So I've heard that practice and comeback preparations have been really busy. Tell me how that has been going." You asked, leaning your head on your hand to look at him as you ate. San began to excitedly tell you about the choreography.

"But the vocal lessons are getting tough. Plus the extra gym sessions to keep in shape. It's alright though, all the hardwork will lead to a successful comeback." He said.

"Yeah, you're right. You've all been working so hard. But remember to take care of yourselves too. I know idols can get sick or injured easily from how harsh comeback preparations are." You sighed.

"Mingi hyung feels bad that he hasn't been able to see you as often though." He softened.

"I know, I miss him too, I miss all of you. But it's just something we have to deal with in our jobs." You forced a smile.

"It's not easy." San nodded in agreement.

"But Indigo, if you need anything, you can come to any one of us, okay? Not just Mingi hyung. We'll be there for you. We're family, no matter how busy any of us are." San held your hand.

"And I'll always be thankful for that. Thanks, Sannie." You squeezed his hand. You remembered telling San when you first joined how you were not used to being cared for since you were always on your own, you've cared for others but no one has genuinely ever cared for you. But the Ateez boys did, right from the start.

"You all accepted me right from that get go, never once questioning my mask or my name. You've never made me feel like I was alone or an outsider." You said.

"Because you're not alone with us. We would never push you to do something that would you feel uncomfortable." He promised.

"But it's nice seeing you and Mingi hyung happy together. I think you compliment each other." He told you.

"You think so?" You giggled.

"Mhmm... You both bring out such good sides of each other. Like Mingi hyung is calmer with you around and you seem less guarded with Mingi hyung is with you." He tried his best to explain.

"I guess so. You all make me feel less guarded." You said. San smiled softly at your words.

After sharing the meal together, you and San sat in the living room, just talking. He was someone that was calming to talk to. The conversation could go in any direction and be about any topic without being awkward.

"Yes, Hongjoong hyung?... I'm just... out." San paused the conversation when Hongjoong called him. You knew that Hongjoong was probably asking where he ran off to.

"Indigo's not well?" San feigned innocence, eyes casting over to you. You stifled your laughter.

"I'll see you back at the company... Yes, hyung... Alright, bye." He bid the captain goodbye and hung up, tucking his phone back into his pocket.

"Joong's looking for you?"

"He's always looking for us, making sure we're not getting into trouble and at our schedules. But I'm on a break now, my gym session isn't until 2pm." San informed. You nodded your head, checking the time.

"I have a progress meeting at 4pm with the other producers. Eden will be pinging me in virtually." You replied.

"Yeah, that's why Hongjoong hyung brought up that you were unwell just now. He mentioned that he wants us to sit in this time to listen to the producers' conversations with him. At the same time, he wanted to make sure that I stay behind after my workout with the others." San explained.

"I should go, to give you time to rest and prepare for the meeting. I'll go to KQ and warm up before my session." San patted your head, standing up from the couch.

"I'll text our manager hyung to come pick me." He took his phone out to text his manager.

"Thanks for dropping by and bringing so many things for me." You walked him to the door, grabbing his jacket from the chair for him.

"You're welcome." He smiled. You both shared a hug.

"If you still feel unwell, don't attend the meeting okay? I'm sure the others will understand, people get sick. You've been working so much, you're only human." He said after pulling away.

"Okay. If you see Mingi later, is it okay if you don't tell him I'm unwell? I don't want to worry him. Knowing him, he might just skip practice and come down to take care of me. I'm fine, really." You assured. San nodded and reached over to give you a friend kiss on your forehead.

"Bye, Indigo." He waved.

"Bye, Sannie. Have a good workout session, stay safe." You wished. He gave a final wave before disappearing into the lift. You let out a long breath, closing the door and locking it.

With that, you went into your studio and shut the door. You put your headphones on to isolate you in the world of music before starting your work.

Mingi bowed to the vocal instructor as he left the small room where he just had his lesson. He let out a tired sigh.

"Still nothing?" He checked his phone. You haven't texted him all morning, which was weird. But Mingi knew you were very busy and didn't want to bother you with his overthinking.

"Oh, Mingi ah." Seonghwa called. Mingi stopped in his tracks, lifting his head up from his phone.

"Hwa hyung." Mingi blinked.

"Just finished vocal lessons?" Seonghwa tilted his head, looking at the notebook the taller had tucked under his arm. Mingi nodded his head as they walked together.

"The teacher said my condition wasn't very good today I shouldn't strain my voice too much, I guess. You're headed for the producers' meeting too, right?" Mingi asked. The oldest of the group nodded his head. They took the lift together to the floor with all the meeting rooms. Some people were there already.

"Hongjoong ah." Seonghwa called. The captain broke away from his conversation with Yeosang to wave to the two members. Mingi and Seonghwa bowed to the others that were in the room.

"The members are sitting here." Yeosang said softly. They nodded and took their seats.

"The producers are here." Yunho stated. The Ateez boys stood up to greet Edenary, who entered the room.

Mingi craned his neck and realised you weren't there. He was about to take his phone out to text you, Eden cleared his throat.

"Producer Indigo is feeling under the weather so she will be joining us virtually. She apologises for the inconvenience." Eden said. Mingi's eyes widened at his words.

You were unwell? Is that why you haven't been texting him the whole day? There was a panic going on in Mingi's head now. Yunho seemed to have taken notice, placing his hand over his best friend's leg and patting it gently to calm him down.

"Indigo~ Can you hear me?" Mingi heard Maddox speak.

"Uh huh. Thanks, Maddox."

Your voice was heard. Maddox smiled, happy the connection was working well. He set the computer on the table, making sure it was plugged into the wall outlet.

"Hi, boys." You waved to the Ateez boys once Maddox turned the computer around.

"Hi, Indigo." They greeted back.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Hwa. Thanks. I just needed to rest for a bit." You giggled. You had your mask on so Mingi couldn't really tell if you were okay or not. But he couldn't go to you now, you wouldn't like that.

"Sorry for the inconvenience everyone." You said when Eden was going to start the meeting.

"Nonsense. You shouldn't even be joining the meeting if you're sick." Eden scoffed. After that, he began the meeting. The other Ateez boys just listened to the conversations that were taking place. The ones that participated were Mingi and Hongjoong. Although Mingi was more concerned about you.

"I've sent in track 4 to Eden. Still need some time to arrange track 6, it's not sounding right yet." You informed. Eden played the tracks that you have sent him for everyone to listen.

"I'll polish up the tracks and submit them to the CEO." Eden said when the track finished.

"Yes, please." You replied.

"Since the main track is done and we're practicing the dance, the current update from the team is that we'll be filming the music video in about three months?" Hongjoong said.

"The team has to come together to decide on the locations and logistics. Then the stylists will have a concept meeting." Eden added.

"Am I needed in any of those meetings?" You asked. You've never been so participative in the entire process of an artist's promotions before so this was all new to you. Was a producer needed at a creative concept meeting?

"Maybe not the stylists meeting but the story boarding and the music video concept meeting? It would be good to share your concept and vision with the team since it is your track, Indigo."

"Yes, sir. I'll be there. Loop me into the communications so I can schedule it in, please." You requested.

"Sure, I'll let the team leaders know." He nodded.

Mingi sat there in worry. This was just another thing to add to your already crazy schedule. He didn't want you to have something new to stress about.

"Before we end the meeting, anything to add from the boys?" Eden asked. You looked up from the iPad you had been scribbling your notes on to focus on what the boys were saying.

"Nothing from us. Thank you all for your hard work." Hongjoong bowed his head and the other 7 followed suit.

"You're all working hard too, giving it your all. Do well in promoting the album!" You giggled.

With that, Eden summarised set the deadlines for the producers' different submissions and concluded the meeting. The boys stood up and bowed repeatedly to the producers as they took their leave. You waved and bid everyone goodbye before hanging up. The Ateez boys left the meeting room after.

"Did you know Indigo's sick?" Wooyoung asked Mingi while they walked to the dance studio.

"I didn't know. I texted her this morning but she hadn't reply. So I thought she was just busy." Mingi frowned slightly. Yunho nudged Wooyoung to not ask anymore.

"Maybe I should go check on her to see if she's okay or bring her something." Mingi thought out loud, stopping in his spot.

"Maybe you can see her after practice. Indigo sounded fine during the meeting earlier." Seonghwa stepped in before Mingi could decide to just leave now.

"She's fine, right San? You went to see her this morning." Yeosang said. All heads turned to San.

"You visited her, hyung?" Jongho asked.

"Yeah, I had some time before coming here and I went. I heard she was not well so I went to get her some food and vitamin drinks to help her recover. Then we ate together. She was fine, just seemed tired." San recounted, nodding his head.

"Thankfully you had the time to go see if she was okay, San ah." Hongjoong patted the younger on the shoulder. The others nodded their heads in agreement, just glad to hear that you were okay.

But Mingi wasn't. There was a weird feeling in his chest, a sort of heaviness. Did you tell San you were sick and not him?

He admits that it was probably jealousy and the fact that you two have not been able to see each other recently. But something felt weird, something felt wrong.

"You good?" Yunho asked as the two of them trailed at the back of the group.

"Mmm..." Mingi nodded.

"Call her." Yunho encouraged, knowing it was the only way for Mingi to calm down and focus for the rest of the practice session. He didn't want to see his best friend get scolded by Hongjoong.

"Yeah." Mingi took his phone out and slipped into the handicap toilet, locking the door and sitting on the closed seat.

"Oh hey, Mings. What's up?" You answered after a few rings. Since it was a video call, you had propped the phone up against the bottom of your monitor to continue working. Mingi watched as you continued to work, now feeling guilty for bothering you while you were obviously busy.

"Mings? Are you okay? You're not saying anything." You stopped typing, looking straight at the camera. You picked up the device and blinked in confusion.

"I just wanted to hear your voice." Mingi forced out.

"I miss you too, Mings." You smiled softly. He finally relaxed, his tense shoulders falling slightly as he let out a shaky sigh.

"You know you can tell me anything, right baby? I'm never too busy for you. I'm a phone call away." He said. You nodded with a hum, eyes still trained on him to give him your full attention.

"And likewise for me too, Mings. Don't think that you're bothering me or interrupting my work. Just call me at any time." You said.

"I don't have morning practice tomorrow so I'll come over tonight?" He tilted his head.

"I'd like that. You know that you can come over whenever you want to. I love when you're here." You chuckled.

"Alright, I have to go before the others wait too long for me. But I'll see you tonight. I love you, baby." Mingi said, voice full of unwillingness to hang up.

"I love you too, Mings. Have a great practice session. See you later!" You wished before hanging up. With another sigh, Mingi stood up and left the bathroom to go to the practice room. He bowed apologetically to the members that were waiting for him.

"Sorry, let's start." Mingi said. From his warm up spot, Yunho looked at Mingi through the mirror. He guessed that the phone call went well because there was now an almost excited pep in his step.

Practice went well. After running through a few times, the 8 boys split up to work on the choreography in smaller groups.

"And 1, 2, 3, 4." Wooyoung counted as he worked in the small corner with Yeosang and San.

"Something is weird." Jongho laughed as he and Yunho worked together. His moves looked a little different from the taller male's. Yunho couldn't help but giggle.

"Like this, Jongho ah." Yunho directed.

RINGGGGGGGGG

"Yah, I thought I said phones on silent during practice." Hongjoong yelled from his spot, a frown on his face and his hands on his hips. He didn't know whose phone it was. But Jongho jogged over to his bag, picking up his ringing phone. His phone is usually on 'Do Not Disturb' but there were exceptions.

"Sorry, hyung. Family emergency." Jongho said and exited the room to take the phone call.

~

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