#pressing the button made her flip the table

[mentally-gone002]

keep him safe

summary: y/n brings spencer to her apartment after noticing him acting differently. 

warnings: mentions of drugs, addiction (i think), blood, guns

a/n: this takes place a few weeks after S3 Ep12 (3rd life) where that kid is killed in front of spencer… and yeah!!! also i apologize cuz i don’t know what addiction is like so hence idk how to write it but i tried… pls enjoy🤓

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7:33 pm

outside the building housing the BAU office it was dark and quiet, only filled with the sound of the few cars that passed and loud chirping of cicadas. it was peaceful compared to the past case that only ended hours before this. 

everyone on the BAU team filed into the building to settled into their desks and get a few files of work completed before they went home to repeat the process the next day. some finished their work quicker; the some was hotch, prentis, rossi, jj and garcia. they all left with quick and tired goodbyes to the remaining members of the team until the only tree left were y/n and spencer and morgan. 

when morgan did leave he shot a suggestive look at the two youngest agents. “have fun tonight you two.” he smirked. y/n rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything. 

spencer was working slow for once, his eyes not taking in all the words of the page at the quick rate they usually do. his fingers tapped at his desk and made the pen in his dominant hand flip and twist. he was fidgeting more than he usually did. 

y/n noticed this of course. because she was just one bullpen away from him and because they were close friends… and she was a profiler. she knew when something was picking his brain, good or bad. he had been like this for a few weeks and today was the day she would step in. because she knew spencer. he wouldn’t reach out until he was too far into a hole he had dug for himself.

she watched him for half an hour in between work until she swiveled in her seat, turning it until her legs were free from beneath the desk. she stood up and walked around to his desk. 

“knock, knock.” she interrupted the silence with an accompanying wrap of her knuckles against his desk. she didn’t want to startle him, as he seemed to be on edge already. “you doing alright with that?” the question she asked was gentle while she leaned her hip against the desks edge and stared down at the brown haired man as he stared back. 

he shrugged. “i can’t really focus on it.” spencer confessed with a tired voice. his eyes had early signs of bruising underneath them that she caught onto before they disappeared behind his thin fingers that pressed into the corners of his eyes in exhaustion. 

a sigh flowed from her nose. she dropped her head to the side and her cheek smushed against her shoulder. “you okay?” she was concerned for him; he’d been quieter than usual on the way home. 

spencer nodded. “yeah, yeah. i’m okay, just- just can’t focus.” he told her as he slumped back into his chair. his pen was abandoned on the open file on the table. he stared blankly at the case file, almost in horror. 

she looked with him at the papers with the inside of her cheek held between her teeth, thinking to herself prior to flipping the file closed. spencer sat up a little with his mouth opening but she shushed him. “you can work on it tomorrow, okay? we’re gonna go home.” y/n said to him with a tone that told spencer not to fight her in this. 

“you said ‘we’ and ‘home’ in the same sentence. i don’t understand.” spencer followed her with his brown eyes, spinning himself in his chair to keep them on her as y/n walked back to her desk, switching off her lamp and grabbing her purse. 

she looked at him over her computer, turning it off with the almost unheard click of a button. “you’re gonna stay with me tonight.” she answered him simply. 

he furrowed his brows. “why?” 

“because i don’t trust you to be alone tonight.” 

spencer swallowed thickly with how her eyes bore into his own. he could have, no, should have known that y/n would have caught onto his behavior. 

a case from weeks ago had taken a toll on him. seeing a kid shot in front of his eyes after he tried everything he could to convince jack, the father of lindsay who was kidnapped, not to shoot the teen holding her captive. the image scarred him; how the bullet exploded the boys head from the close range, how the blood splattered on the walls, and how he stood there in shock because he didn’t know what to do. 

“i’m okay.” he swore to her. 

she pursed her lips as she walked back to his desk. “don’t fight me on this,” her voice was low in a whisper. “i want to help you, spencer.” she reached down to place her hand on the back of his where it rested on the desk. 

spencer swallowed thickly once more before he sighed, looking away. “okay.” when her hand retracted away from his, he stood up and put his bag over his shoulder. 

y/n smiled at him and started walking with spencer on her heels out of the glass doors of the BAU office, into the elevator and to her car. 

9:07 pm

y/n smiled as she unlocked the door to her apartment and walked inside with her hand on the nob until spencer was all the way inside. 

he’d been in her apartment multiple times which meant there was no awkward moments as he took off his shoes and hung his bag on the rack beside the door. 

“are you hungry?” she asked him as she entered her small kitchen and he went to sit at the island. 

“i’m alright… just tired.” he told her with his elbows leaning on the counter. he blinked slowly. 

“okay.” she looked him over with sad eyes. “spencer?” he looked up at her at the utter of his name. “if there’s something wrong you can talk to me.” 

her statement had him nodding with his head lowered and his eyes closed. 

she was the one person he actually told about his addiction problem that had taken him over almost few months ago, and she’d helped him stop. but now he had the urge to use again, and that’s why she brought him home with her. that was why. 

y/n padded out from behind the kitchen island to spencer and her arms went around his middle. her chest was against his curved back from his posture from leaning over the counter a bit and she rested her cheek on his shoulder blade. he was warm through his clothes and his heartbeat was loud, but slow in y/n’s ear.

“thank you.” the words were whispered by spencer. 

“you’re welcome.” y/n whispered back to him. her thumb on one hand slowly trailed up and down where it was against the front of his waist, almost the middle of his abdomen. “i just want you to be safe.” 

“i know.” he breathed heavily due to how her touch was so kind and soft, unlike their job. 

a comfortable silence settled over y/n’s apartment as they stayed where they were at the kitchen island. spencer was in the verge of sleep from how at ease he was, and not a single image of the long past case was in his head, until she pulled away, then it all came rushing back to him. but he wasn’t going to tell her. there was a part of him that knew she knew. 

she always knew. 

“cmon, it’s late.” y/n ran a hand down his back as she stepped away from the proximity, straying to go towards her bedroom. 

spencer stared after her and decided to follow once she disappeared from his sight through the door separating her own space from the open concept of her apartment. 

her bedroom was homy. soft colors made up her bed, curtains and walls, while her dresser and nightstands were a darker shade. spencer liked it. 

“you remember where your clothes are right?” she called from where she stood in front of her bathroom mirror. 

“yeah.” spencer answered. his socked feet carried him to her dresser. the top right drawer was his. it had a set of pajamas and work clothes in it. 

it was almost like spencer and y/n were in a relationship. they had the details of one. with the clothes of the other at each of their houses, the secret looks they passed, some what harmless flirting. they were very close. so close that almost all of their coworkers were waiting for the day they finally got together; they’ve been waiting for three years. 

spencer quickly changed out of his work clothes and into pajamas before slipping into y/n’s bed. he was going to go sleep on her couch but that would only result in her dragging him back to her room. he laid in his left side, facing her empty space with eyes on her pillow u til she joined him, almost coming nose to nose with him. 

“i’m glad you didn’t go to the couch.” she told him. 

his mouth tugged up in the corners. “i decided against it. i knew you’d just drag me back here.” he said it through a yawn. 

“you know me too well.” she hummed. 

“i do.” 

silence. 

“thank you, again.” spencer muttered. 

y/n nodded against her pillow. “it’s my job to look out for people. you just happen to be the most important people i do that for.” 

spencer nodded slowly at her words, smiling softly again. he absentmindedly fidgeted with the top of her comforter, twisting and pulling at the seam between his fingers anxiously. he was at ease with her, but that feeling in his body kept flashing over him. the part of him that wanted to use dilaudid kept resurfacing. 

y/n frowned. “hey,” her hand snaked out from under the comforter to brush through his soft hair, “where’d you go?” she searched his eyes with her own for the previously smiling spencer. he must have gone away for now. 

spencer shrugged with a shaky inhale. “i don’t know…” he blinked his eyes closed, hard. it’s what he did when he wanted to keep himself from crying. he sniffled a little, still toying with the seam of the comforter. 

y/n’s heart ached for him. she’d seen a lot of things that made her feel many different ways, but seeing spencer like this made her want to cry. 

spencer opened his eyes and looked at her. they were glossed over, creating an almost pretty sheen over the amber-brown color. the tear that slipped from one of his eyes made her move the hand she had in his hair to wipe it away. “i almost started using again…” his voice was quivering. “i just don’t want to see that dead kid anymore.”

y/n moved closer to his body under the covers. her hand rested on the side of his face, thumb drawing a gentle line back and forth over his cheekbone. “i know you don’t, babe.” she whispered. “what can i do for you?” 

spencer shrugged immediately after your question registered with him. “i just need distractions.” 

she nodded subtly. her hands retracted from his face as she rolled over to grab a book off her nightstand. “can i read to you?” 

spencer was quick to nod prior to moving closer to her. his arms were acting as a pillow for his head as he remained laying on his side, only inches away from her as she opened her book. 

she started reading, which made spencer’s mind go blank as he listened. he liked how slow she was with the words, taking her time. sometimes she’d stutter, or ask him how to pronounce something. it was a nice change from how he read. 

y/n paused her reading to take a quick glance down at spencer, seeing how he had curled into himself and was now breathing steadily with a few soft snores mixed in. she smiled to herself and closed the book, putting it back on her nightstand and switched off the light.

[kaidabakugou]

y’all already know i need to make it you guy’s problem as well when i’m sick so here you go :)

i love the idea of eijirou threatening you with telling on you to katsuki when you want to ignore your health

just imagine being sick or on the early stages of catching a cold when your nose is congested and you’re sneezing here and there but you have places to be and things to do so you just take some medicine and make your way downstairs to the kitchen where eijirou is making a quick to-go breakfast for you

but once he hears your groggy voice, heavier than your usual morning voice when you have to be out of the house this early, he’s immediately reaching for you and drowning you in questions to figure out what’s wrong

his lips getting all pouty and concern written all over his face when you shrug him off and tell him you’re fine

“morning beautiful”, he chirps as soon as he hears you walk into the kitchen behind him, while he continues to flip and press down on the the grilled cheese on the stove

“morning”, you answer back softly, congestion evident on your voice

“hey what’s wrong?!”, turning to you as he quickly wipes off his hands on a kitchen towel before reaching for you, gently pressing the back of his hands to the sides of your neck and on your forehead to check for a fever

“it’s nothing, just a little congested that’s all”, you say as you reach up to wrap your hands around his wrists while he stares down at you worriedly, feeling the warmth radiating from your palms around him, not boiling hot but warm enough to hint you’re starting to get a fever

“you can’t go out like this”, he finally says after staring you down for a bit

“i have to, i have reports from our last mission that need to get done quickly”, you argue as you make your way around him to grab your lunch bag

“what are you gonna do when kats sees you then?”, he says, eyebrows raised as he crosses his arms against his chest while leaning against the kitchen island

“he won’t, he’ll be out on patrol all day and i clock out before him today so by the time he returns i’ll be gone”

“not if he finds out before that”

“and who’s gonna tell him”, at this point, regardless of how bad you feel, your matching eijirou’s teasing smile as you both taunt back and forth

“listen i need to get to work, whatever you do is on you, okay?” you say as you grab the last of your lunch before giving him a kiss and heading for the door

“oookayy then, whatever you say but don’t say i didn’t warn ya”, he waves you off before going back to the grilled cheese on the stove, one that was made for you but he didn’t worry about it too much considering he waited until he heard your car leave the drive way to quickly reach for his phone and hit the call button, grin on his face since he knew you’d probably be back soon enough to be able to enjoy your breakfast

and he was right, because not even 30 minutes later he could hear your car pull up on the drive way and the sounds of your fuzzy voice accompanied by the angry blonde’s bursting through the front door with you over his shoulder

stomping his way up the stairs as you made eye contact with a laughing eijirou on the couch, flipping him off before you disappeared from his sight

returning a few moments later, this time in your pjs but still over katsuki’s shoulder as he made his way towards the couch to deposit you on eijirou’s lap

“watch her while i’m gone, and don’t let her out of your sight”, katsuki grumbles before sneaking a bite of the grilled cheese waiting for you on the table

“i won’t”, eijirou laughs as he wraps his arms around your center, laughing harder when you glare up at him

pouting at katsuki next when he leans down to give you a kiss

“yeah yeah, glare at me all you want shitty woman, it’s for your own good”

sighing before retuning his kiss, the taste of the grilled cheese on his lips making you forget how annoyed you were as you looked over to grab it, taking a bite out of it as katsuki gives a kiss to eijirou before heading for the door

both of you wishing him a good day before snuggling up to each other on the couch, rolling your eyes at eiji’s smug grin and ignoring the low ‘i told you so’ that followed against your ear

[jarofstyles]

Coconuts

idk where this came from tbh but I loved how It came out. 95% smut but I know y'all will never complain about that so :p 

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WC-4.6k

Warnings- smut, teasing, slight public play If you squint, slight degradation, but lighter compared to our other stuff. Cute

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Y/N could feel his eyes on her as she walked back towards him on the beach, his sunglasses doing little to hide the stare down he was having with her body. She’d known that this bathing suit would probably make him a little handsy, but it had been vastly underestimated how much it would distract him. There was not a single word being absorbed around him and she sort of felt like prey as she made her way to the rented cabana, tummy rumbling with both nerves and anticipation.

“What’s this, darling?” He asked as she flipped her sandals off on the raised wooden platform to avoid the spread of sand the best she could. He’d beaten her out here to set up their towels and made sure the daybed was good to go, as Y/N couldn’t handle another full day in the sun and needed the coverage the cabana would offer. He was being a doting and sweet boyfriend and she’d been planning on making him crazy.

“Hm? Oh, I got us those drinks in the coconuts.” She hummed, handing him one. It was part of the charm, their vacation essential, but he didn’t give the drink a second look before placing it on the little side table offered with the package. A tingle ran up her spine as warm hands grabbed the back of her thighs, urging her to step between his spread thighs while his brows furrowed behind the tinted lenses.

“You know that’s not what m’talking about, love.” He winced slightly at the light as Y/N pushed the glasses up into his hair so she could see his mossy eyes, resting her hand on his warm shoulder before taking a sip from her drink. It was a coconut rum cream type of thing and she knew she was going to be wasted on these, but that was the point. Wasn’t it?

But she was playing coy, tilting her head to the side as she gave him a look. “What do you mean, then?” It was exciting to play games with him. To tease him. Harry was a passionate man with a lot of redeeming qualities, but he was the most fun to tease. To watch him narrow his eyes at her and think about how she was most definitely going to pay for it later. It spiked her adrenaline, heartbeat quickening as his hands moved over her ass and to her hips. His thumbs dug into the dips back there, a deep exhale leaving his mouth and washing over her bare belly, heat pooling between her thighs as he leaned forward to press a chaste kiss right above her belly button.

“This bathing suit. I didn’t see you pack it.” He let her off the hook for playing dumb, rubbing his circles into the dips as he watched the corner of her lip temple as if trying not to smile. “I would remember a little thing like this. Barely fuckin’ there, is it?” His eyes found the tied strings at the sides of her waist. That was dangerous and the entire point. It was a deep red, the smallest thing she’d ever worn in public, and tied behind her neck and at her hips with flimsy strings. It was made to taunt him, make him needier than ever, and a bit of payback from the tiny yellow shorts he loved to wear. He knew just how much she loved his thighs and exactly what it did to her to see them exposed. Knowing what she liked to do on his bare thigh, right over the tattooed tiger.

“Oh, this old thing?” She smiled as innocently as she could. “It’s something from a few years back. I think my chest has gotten bigger since I originally bought it, but that’s not a problem… is it?”

“Actually,” Harry breathed. “It is.” He was quick to pull her into his lap, a squeak leaving her as he gave her a dark look. “Because you know exactly what this was going to do t’me and how it was going to make me feel, and you put it on anyway. You, you can hide when that perfect cunt gets wet and sticky. But me?” He glanced around before pulling her further over his lap so she could feel the growing bulge in his own bathing suit. “Can’t do much without scarring the rest of the people at this beach. You’re causing problems on purpose.” The voice he used was hushed and deep, going straight to her core. Of course it was the goal to get in trouble, but his reaction had been better than she anticipated. He shifted her slightly on his lap, subtly moving her over his length under the guise of adjusting her. “How do you think this is supposed t’get fixed? Want me to go have a wank in the restroom?”

“Nuh-uh.” She grinned. “I told you. I want all of you this trip.” Leaning to the side to place her own drink down, he hissed at the movement of her over his growing prick. “You’re not wasting a drop of you. It’ll get fixed, but m’not gonna rush off the beach before I’ve had my drink.” She shrugged, taking her hand that had been cooled by said drink to hold the side of his neck. There was a lot more satisfaction than she could admit when she saw him shiver at the temperature change. “This is my payback for those stupid yellow shorts you wore yesterday.”

Harry knew she could be vengeful. This cat and mouse game that had been him pursuing her had bled into the relationship and he loved that she liked to tease- but he loved that she was seeking a punishment out of it. “You know what I did in return for that?” He clicked his tongue. “I took you to the dressing area and fingered you until you dripped down my fingers. Had to hold your loud fucking mouth quiet, but I took care of it.” It wasn’t doing much good to think of it, especially considering his current predicament of trying not to get painfully hard, but it was one of his favorite things they’d ever done. Making Y/N melt into a desperate, horny mess had been one of his favorite pleasures in life, but knowing she was too needy to wait had stroked his ego.

The roles reversed, though? He wasn’t too sure. It would be noticeable if she was on her knees in the dressing tents, not just looking like an innocent couple leaving more tents open by changing under the same curtain. Her chest was distracting. It was glistening from the aftermath of freshly applied suncream, her breasts on full display and hanging just the way he liked. This bathing suit was his personal heaven. Or hell. He hadn’t quite decided yet.

“So how are you going to take care of me?”

Y/N knew she had been a little cruel, sure, but she could still feel the slight ache from how he’d fucked her last night. She wanted it again, but harder. He’d been a little soft beforehand and she figured he’d make use out of a little motivation.

“Aw, my poor baby.” She cooed, stroking his jaw as it clenched. “Getting hard for me. Can’t help it when you see my tits, hm? Or is it all of it?” There was a moment she pretended to think while he glared at her. “Probably all. But I’m not extremely cruel, Harry. Just giving you a taste of your own medicine. You failed to mention that you made me wait 3 hours until you took care of me.” It felt longer. “So we’re going to sit on this beach for 2. I’m going to have my drink, read my book, enjoy the warm breeze, and you’re going to sit with me. Then we can go back to the villa and you can do as you please.” She hummed, placing a wet kiss to his forehead before standing up from his lap. A towel was tossed his way, which he failed to catch because he was trying to pull her back into his lap. “Use this to hide yourself.” The smugness she felt was unmatched as she grabbed her book and found her way to the other side of the daybed, laying on her back to start the hardest reading session of her life.

—--

Harry didn’t make it easy on her. Not that she thought he would, considering she knew both of their histories of being menaces when in the mood, but she hadn’t expected to be so heavily affected by simple touches.

His fingers drew circles over her exposed hip as he spooned her, pretending to read over her shoulder. Quiet breaths puffed over the side of her neck as he nuzzled into her, sponging kisses there like clockwork. It was chaste enough that she couldn’t really scold him for it, but that didn’t mean it didn’t make her throb between her legs. It was her fault, she was torturing her own self with drawn out foreplay. Y/N rarely ever made Harry wait for it- she was far too greedy- so she struggled with holding her guns as she felt his fingers move further down to the bottom of her stomach, thumbing over the top of the little bathing suit bottoms.

It was a miracle she’d survived that far, and despite it only being an hour and 42 minutes, she thinks that it was good enough.

Pushing her into the villa, Harry’s hands rushed to tug the strings off of the suit, starting with the bottoms. “You evil little thing.” He growled against her mouth, pressing her up against the door as the red fabric fell to the ground and his hand slipped between her thighs. “What was the point of that, hm? You like being bad, pissing me off?” Fingers slid between her swollen, soaked folds and coated his skin just the way he knew it would. “Tortured yourself too. Could have just told me you wanted me to fuck you again and we could have spent the day in here.”

Y/N whined as she felt a digit sink into her, leaning further back against the door as he moved it slowly in and out of her. His fingers were thicker than her own, longer, making it much easier for him to reach places she couldn’t when she pleasured herself. His hands had always been a weakness for her, knowing how skilled he was in using them to create both art and pleasure. Coaxing the perfect orgasms from her since he’d met her. “Y-You teased me first.” She huffed, eyes fluttering as his mouth sucked over a part of her jaw that he knew would make her weaken. “What did you expect?”

“I expected you to be a big girl and tell me what you wanted, rather than parade around in this slutty little bathing suit and make me wait two hours before I could do anything about it.” He grumbled, teeth scraping over skin making her whimper. “I expected you to keep me in bed and spread your gorgeous thighs for me and tell me that you’re the neediest little thing, and you want my cock. I would have done it in a heartbeat. Instead, you chose to be a fucking brat. Because if you wanted to work me up, if you wanted me to be frustrated? It worked.” His opposite hand came down on her bare ass, the slap resonating through the villa and sting making her gasp. “What was the end goal?”

His finger was joined by another, making her eyes flutter and her brain slow down a little bit. He knew what he was doing- he always did. “Just wanted you to feel… to feel like I did. You made me wait and…” Her voice trailed off as it bled into a moan, his fingers hooking just so to hit the spot she needed.

“And?” He asked expectantly. “And what, sweetheart. Because I recall taking care of you. Even soaking, no one could tell. But everyone would be able to see my dick if I didn’t have that towel. Is that what you wanted? Wanted everyone to see me?”

“No!” She hissed. “No it’s- It’s mine. I just wanted, I wanted you to feel what I felt.” Her head fell back against the door with a thump, spreading her legs a bit more. Harry knew exactly what he was doing, he knew exactly what to do to make her weak. His quickening fingers and his hand gripping the side of her ass, he was making her see that she was definitely going to pay for it. “You’ve been driving me crazy the whole vacation and I… fuck.” Her words trailed off, the feel of the heel of his hand tapping against her clit with his thrusts making her brain fuzzy.

“You think you haven’t been driving me insane this whole time?” He asked, tone incredulous. “Think I havent been losing my fucking mind watching you walk around in these little bathing suits and sundresses? Think I haven’t had to be mindful of what m’wearing or what we’re doing because all I want to do is bend you over and hike up those dresses or pull down those bottoms and sink right back where I belong?” His voice hissed against her ear as he kissed over the side of neck, the sloppy pecks making her breathing pick up. “Because I have been fucking insane, I’ve been trying to be decent and make sure m’not hogging you in bed and let you go to the beaches and to the shops and to dinner, but I’d be perfectly happy with you in here, with our view of the ocean and you warming my cock.”

Y/N could feel herself getting close. It was hard not to with how worked up she’d gotten trying to tease him, the way he was talking to her, how his fingers always managed to coax the orgasms out of her faster than anyone else- including herself- ever had. “I would have- I would have, I want that, please.” She begged, which Harry knew all too well what that tone of voice meant. She was deliciously close, the slick of her arousal dribbling down his hand and she was just right there-

And he stopped. Y/N whined, tears welling in her eyes as she looked at him in disbelief. He was so generous with her pleasure that she hadn’t been expecting that in the slightest.

“If you hadn’t been a brat, maybe I would have let you.” He took his fingers from her, bringing them up to his mouth and made a show of licking them clean. Running them over his tongue with a soft hum and making a show of it as she scowled. “Mmm, none of that, my angel. You’ll get what you want. Just be patient.” Without another word he lifted her up, making her squeal as she was carried across the place before being deposited in the bed. Seeing as he was shirtless still, it was quick work to get himself naked, shorts kicked off to the side as he crawled up the bed and found her mouth right away.

She could taste herself on his tongue as he kissed her deeply, fingers finding the knots behind her neck to undo the swimsuit. It was quick work to pull the cups down, exposing the soft chest he had been obsessed with since day one. Pulling away with wet lips, he looked down at her exposed breasts, pebbled nipples calling to him as he grabbed under her arms to pull her up on the bed and stayed right where he was. “You know how cruel it is to have these right in front of my face, unable to do a thing?” His hushed words made her nod. She did know, she knew exactly how much he loved her chest and just how crazy it would drive him. “I know you did, pet. You know how much I fucking love your body.” His fingers plucked both nipples, squeezing lightly to make her gasp.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, feeling the heat throbbing even hotter as she looked at her. There was something in his eyes, the full lust, the desire and hunger that made her feel like the most desired person in the world. Like no one else could compare. Harry had the ability to make her feel as if she was the only one he’d ever had eyes for, the only one he ever would. She wanted to be his forever, hold on to this feeling and let it grow. “I’m sorry, I just wanted you.” Her whine was cute, he thought, but the apology didn’t cut it.

“I don’t think you are, my love. But you will be.” The man’s tongue brushed through the valley between her breasts, tasting the salt of her skin and the ocean air as it moved to the right one. He was getting her wet as he trailed down to her nipple, moving his fingers out of the way so he could do his job.

If you asked Harry if he was an ass or breast man, he’d tell you he was both- but he had a significant soft spot for Y/N’s chest. He’d been obsessed since the first time he saw her, but more so the first time she took her shirt off and let him suck on her. She was so sensitive, the little whimper she let out proving it as her fingers threaded into her hair and she pushed him further into the soft flesh. Hips moving while she tried to grind against his thigh feeling his lips pull more of her nipple into his mouth and sucked on the raised skin.

“Fuck me.” Y/N breathed, Harry’s thigh giving her a bit of mercy as he pressed it against her cunt. It limited how high she could move her hips, but he didn’t stop her from rubbing against him. His lips pulled and sucked, swirling his tongue over the nipple as he groaned against her breast. She could feel his cock against her thigh, feel it leaking over her skin and felt the desperation rising in her stomach to get him inside. She craved it just as much as he did, and had half a mind to demand him to make good on his promise of keeping him tucked inside of her so they could go again and again and again. It was an addiction, how his body made her feel. Desperate and needy, wet and achy, she had the best man to take care of her but he loved to fucking tease. “Inside me, please. I’ll be good, you can do it hard, I just need it. M’empty.”

Harry ignored her, pulling off of her right nipple and switching to her left. This time, though, he kept his eyes open and watched her face scrunch up with pleasure. It was able to be felt smeared all over his thigh as she ground herself against it, making a mess of him before he was even inside of her, but he loved it. Making her this desperate was his favorite thing to do and it wasn’t hard. His girl was sensitive and needy and he took pleasure in making her teary and begging for him. It was his payback.

Y/N mewled as his teeth scraped over the swollen nipple, hips jerking and hands tugging sharply at his hair which only spurred him on further. Sucking harder on the bud and making her keen out loud, hips bucking into the air before he finally released her. If he did too much he could probably make her finish from that, but that was something he wanted to try another day. His dick had been throbbing for hours now, and he wanted some relief.

“Lay on your stomach.” He ordered, watching her scramble to listen. He had gotten his point across and he knew it, a self satisfied smirk coming on his face as he pulled his briefs down and gave himself a few tugs. She laid down just as he said, her cheek to the pillow as she looked back at him with a soft pout on her lips. His sweet girl, desperate for his cock but trying to make it up to him now for being a tease. “Looks like you can listen. I’m so proud of you.” He crooned, kneeling on the bed and finding himself between her spread legs. “Ass up for me, darling girl. Let me see.”

She did as asked again, shuffling her knees so she was spread and tilted up for him. Her cunt was dripping and hot, empty and aching for him to fill her. Her plan had backfired significantly but at the end of the day, all she wanted was his cock. That’s been the goal this whole time. “Please. I need it, H.” She whispered, gripping the white sheets. “Give it to me. I can take it. M’sorry for teasing you.”

“I’m sure you are.” His hand spread her ass open, spitting over her hole and letting it drip down to her swollen clit where he took the tip of his cock and spread it all over her. “You know, I had a plan t’punish you even more, but.. Turns out, I’m fucking weak for this cunt.” He sighed, pushing the head into her and watching it stretch her a little bit. “I’m just as greedy for it. So m’gonna be nice to you and give you what you want, but I’ll remember this later.” His head pulled forward as he sunk deeper in, the hot channel making his brain go a bit fuzzy.

“Fuck, you’ve got perfect pussy, baby.” His tough exterior faded as his hips met her ass, exhaling sharply. “Can’t resist it. Make me a fucking mess every time.” The warm air flowed into their villa through the open door with the sea view, making him pause. Leaning down, he wrapped a hand around her throat and pulled her up to look at it, letting her shaky arms hold herself up as he began to thrust into her welcoming cunt. “Look at where I’ve brought you, baby. Beautiful views, but… This one will always be my favorite.” Lips brushed her ear as the sloppy sound of her soaked cunt being fucked by his prick filled the room. “Seeing you take my cock is my favorite thing. Most beautiful thing in the world, love that you let me own you like this.” His lips pressed against her cheek as she moaned. The firm grip around her throat had her fuzzy, this position making him feel so goddamn deep that she could barely breathe.

“I love it, I love you. Love your cock, love how you make me feel.” She babbled. “Just… Don’t pull out. Please.” Her begging seemed to spur him on, the slap of skin against skin getting louder while he fucked into her. The man was always greedy for her but his sexual frustration was showing, not at all going easy on her. It wasn’t mean, it wasn’t punishment, but pure lust. This was need, and Y/N was happy to be on the receiving end of it.

“M’not going to, baby. Promised you that you could have every drop.” He was nearly purring, breathing a bit heavy but more than satisfied as he fucked into her over and over again. “That’s a lot of love, but m’happy to hear it. Just want to make you happy, make you feel amazing. Don’t have to tease me to have my cock next time… just have to ask me in that pretty voice and give me those gorgeous eyes and I’ll give you anything you want.”

Y/N nodded even though his words sort of went through her. His slight adjustment to his position had him hitting the spot he needed to hit and she was making a fucking mess. She knew she was, hearing the wet sound increasing as he cursed under his breath. It was hard for her not to shudder as she gushed around him, feeling his balls tap against her clit as her watery eyes were forced to look out to the ocean. No words could leave her besides his name and a string of moans. His name was the only important thing, according to her brain.

“Got your cunt all sloppy for me… god, baby… I love you.” He moaned, feeling a little wrecked as he took a glance down to see himself covered in her. Wet and glistening from her how good he was giving it to her, it was another one of his favorite views. “Love my sweet girl and her sweet pussy, m’gonna give it to you over and over… fuck, you’re going to make me cum.” It was hard to keep holding on. Her skin was hot and he could feel he ragged breathing against his palm, her pulse thundering against his fingertips as he worked his prick into her weeping hole. “Never going to stop makin’ love to you, my perfect girl.”

Her orgasm surprised them both. He felt it come on as she whimpered his name, rippling against his cock and squeezing him hard as she shuddered underneath him. Her body fell forwards on the bed and he was done for, releasing her throat to fall on top of her and give a few more sloppy thrusts. A guttural groan left his throat as he buried his face into her neck, feeling his cock pulse and balls tighten as he unloaded inside of her. Keeping himself buried as promised, he ground himself as deep as he could and let it stay deep as his hips twitched, breathing heavy and hot against her skin. “Shit- god.” He croaked, pressing a sloppy stream of kisses from her neck to her cheek. “Fucks sake. Knew I wasn’t going to last a long time but, christ.” A drunken laugh left his throat as she hummed, turning her face with a pout.

“Kissy?” She whispered, lips puckering and effectively making his heart melt. He’d never say no to a kiss from her. It was an immediate wish granted, leaning closer to kiss her but making them both moan as the shift made his cock push further into her. He didn’t break away for a few moments though, pressing sticky pecks to her lips and sighing happily once she laid her cheek back on the pillow.

“Have a really hard time saying no t’you, sweetheart.” He admitted, keeping his face in her neck as he tried to recover.

“Good.” The girl’s voice was still a little shaky. “So you’ll go get me another coconut drink before we go again?”

“Again?” He laughed against her skin, biting down gently to make her yelp. “Fucking minx, my lovely little slut. Course she wants t’go again. I shouldn't have given you the benefit of the doubt. You’re my greedy girl.” Though no one would ever hear Harry complaining about that. His recovery time may need a bit of work if they were going to spend all day here though. “I’m gonna say yes, but only because I want you to lay here and keep my cum inside you.” The man was definitely catching her onto her neediness. “As hot as it is when it drips down your thigh, we don’t want to waste any. So lay here and be pretty for me while I go get you that silly little drink. M’not gonna go as easy next time.”

“Sounds perfect.” The giggle was music to his damn ears. “But don’t forget the cute little umbrella, kay? Need it to be part of the experience.”

[kedsandtubesocks]

your heart, a sonnet

Author!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: you discover there’s more to your boyfriend than you realize

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, no outbreak/modern AU & Joel has both his daughters, surprise hidden identity reveal, grumpy but soft!Joel who has a secret love language of writing and love letters, mentions of unspecified age gap (reader’s age is not mentioned but Joel is older & in his 50’s), light discussion of reader and Joel’s insecurities, reader is addressed as darlin/honey/baby, a few spicy moments where Joel gets handsy

word count: 5.3k

a/n: I know, I know… this doesn’t seem like the typical Joel fic but i blame Pedro’s look at the Hollywood star walk of fame ceremony because it immediately made me think ‘oh that’s Joel’ and now here we are lol I couldn’t have done this without my forever babe @the-wild-wolves-around-you and i can’t thank her enough along with @ahauntedcowboy for always letting me scream about all my wild ideas, and now to you, if you’re reading this too I also can’t thank you enough ♡

You first met Joel at a bookstore.

The weekend after your birthday you went in to treat yourself and wandered into the records section of the store. As you flipped through the selections, the sudden sight of a Fleetwood Mac album had you inhaling sharply in surprise.

“S’good one.” That’s when the sudden smooth drawl of a southern accent floated out to you.

A few steps beside you stood an absolutely gorgeous man. The evergreen plaid button up shirt he wore flattered him as if it was made to be only worn by him. Rugged and distinguished, he seemed like a romance hero plucked straight out from one of the books among the shelves. You even blinked a few times wondering if he was real.

“If you don’t take it, might have to fight ya for it.” Even with his gruff low voice, an underlying teasing nature radiated friendly and light.

Now, many months later, a piece of you believes you might have fallen for him right then and there.

Joel is a rare beautiful soul of a man. He’s strong and a bit rough around the edges. He used to work as a contractor, even managed to build a very reputable business with his brother. His hard work remains effortlessly etched into his hands that now type editing books, his current job. He’s kind, so deeply loyal and loves fiercely.

With a yawn, you slip out of bed to pull on his cozy Texas longhorn shirt.

Heading downstairs, you walk among the clouds.

Instead of working at his office desk, Joel sits at the dining table typing away. Just seeing him wear his reading glasses sends a delicious desire trickling through you like a soft rain.

His dark earth eyes flicker up over the edge of his laptop and his gaze softens.

“Was wonderin’ when you were gonna wake up.” His wonderfully smooth as molasses voice makes you want to get caught up in its sticky sweetness.

“It’s not even that late. You’re one who woke up wanting to get work done on a Saturday.” You scoff playfully yet press your lips to his, a soft good morning greeting.

“Besides…who’s the reason I slept in so soundly, hm?” You smile against Joel’s lips that now twitch with a smirk.

His large warm hand slowly creeps up against your bare leg and rubs soft against your skin. After a few sleepy kisses, Joel’s tongue smoothly slips into your mouth trying to now consume you with a syrupy heat.

Joel pulls you down onto his lap. Your hands run up his chest to his cherub curly gray hair. His lips leave yours to start nipping at your jaw.

“What happened to working, cowboy?” You sigh softly.

“Come keep me company, darlin’.” He breathes out and any hope of maybe making breakfast is happily forgotten.

The rest of the morning unfolds at a nebulous pace you bask in.

When a late brunch is finished and you start cleaning up the kitchen, Joel’s warm solid hands map out your hips with other plans in mind. He slides behind you, a towering comfort that you lean back against.

“You’re extra handsy today Mr. Miller.” You tease.

“I can stop?” Joel offers while his scruffy beard scrapes a path against your skin. Against you, his broad shoulders, his wonderfully built frame, wraps you in his protective cover.

You hum a content no and move your hands over his now.

“Just wanna enjoy being with ya before I get busy.” Joel mutters while his hand slides down your cozy lounge shorts.

You had forgotten about his upcoming work plans.

You already want to mourn the impending weekend without him, but that can wait for another day. Especially when his thick fingers delicately, so sinfully, run up and down your underwear playfully touching you.

But then that weekend arrives and it brings a hollowness.

Lounging on the couch back at the apartment you share with your best friend, you force yourself not to text Joel again. He’s busy and you know this. So you vow to hold all your yearning and longing chained inside like a Jane Austen heroine.

“Are you done sulking?” Your best friend teases from the kitchen and you glare at her from the couch.

“I get it, being awake from your hunky handsome older boyfriend is hard. What will you ever do?” She snickers playfully. You’re tempted to throw the nearby couch pillows at her.

“What did you say his job was?” She asks.

“He used to be a contractor, but now he’s a book editor.” You answer.

“A hardworking hot Texas cowboy who reads and is a good man? Yeah, keep him locked up.” Your best snorts and you understand exactly what she means.

Fanged temptation claws at you more to text him again. Joel promised he would call you tonight and you don’t doubt him. But you didn’t realize how badly you’d missed him.

“Alright,” your best friend declares. “No more moping! I’m dragging you out with me to that book signing I’ve been talking about.”

She’s been obsessed with this apocalyptic novel series for so long. You happily tag along and even perk up when you see how excited she gets.

“And the author is finally doing a book tour! He’s kept his identity hidden this entire time so I wanna get a chance to maybe just even see him!” Your best friend gushes the entire time she drives you both to the bookstore the signing would be held.

Just so happens it’s the same bookstore where you first met Joel. A deep surge of affection swallows you whole and you float on blissful lovesick nostalgia.

Then the impressive line already waiting outside the front doors stuns you.

“I told you! It’s a big deal! Plus the series is so good.” Your best friend exclaims. She has been trying to get you into the series for a while.

The core of it focuses on two young girls who manage to survive an apocalyptic fungal zombie outbreak. The series follows the girls growing up, the journey to live with each other, and how it slowly bonds them as sisters.

“I heard they’re trying to make a Netflix series on it.” Your friend adds hopeful.

You can’t help but snag your best friend’s book copy she also hopes will get signed. Flipping through the front pages you land to the dedication page.

“To my baby girls, this will always be for you two.”

The author must have based the series on their daughters. That’s adorable.

Now curious, you flip to the first chapter.

“After seeing the end of the world, after witnessing the carnage of life consume itself, Ellie thinks she’s seen it all.”

Your best friend's sudden excited laugh pulls you out of the book. She’s talking with the other fans in line and you decide to join in.

Everyone discusses how worth the wait will be and how most of them even purchased the newest released book to make sure they reserved a slot for the signing.

“So why’s the author finally doing a face reveal?” You ask quietly not wanting to seem too out of place.

“So apparently,” your best friend begins in her hush about to spill the good gossip voice. “Some random ass moron on Twitter came out and said they were the true author. It became a whole messy issue of who it really was.”

Your best friend goes into more detail about how even a couple of online sites had articles on it.

“That’s awful.” You sympathize with the author. It must’ve been a headache trying to enjoy the peace of anonymity only for it becoming something used against them. You can only imagine how heartbreaking it was to see others steal and take credit for your work.

Like a surprise strike of lightning, an electric excitement suddenly breaks through the air.

Glancing up, you watch the line rapidly move towards the front doors. Time to go in.

Unfortunately, the main seating for the reading and q&a fills up fast. The bookstore though manages to wrangle the remainder of the crowd that can fit on the first floor towards a section where they can watch. It’s more than enough for your best friend who’s about to burst with anticipation. The buoyant commotion in the room even pulls you into its current and you get excited to see the new surprise author.

Soon a chic handsome older looking man, the moderator of the event, scurries to the front of the gathered group.

Warmly he begins the introduction to the writer.

First, writing sweet children’s books, stories for his daughters, those works became the author’s first publications. After that he navigated apocalyptic writing and his hit series has earned critical acclaim.

“Simply known as the anonymous writer J Miller. I’ve had the greatest pleasure to know this man as both his friend and now agent and I’m beyond proud to introduce him to you. Everyone please help me in welcoming J Miller!”

The thunderous applause and screams of excitement galvanize the entire room.

Then Joel walks out from the side.

Your heart instantly leaves your body.

For a moment you think your lovesick yearning heart has you slightly projecting Joel in any man you might see.

But the minute you focus, truly watch him slide into the chair, you see him.

Soft gray grown out curls, a strong beautiful nose, the patchy beard with the spots you love to kiss, and his reading glasses - the ones he’s so self conscious about because of how they make him look “so good damn old,” yet you love how they distinguish and elevate his appearance. You even remember the first time Joel wore them while he read waiting for you.

Truth makes its way into your heart.

It’s Joel.

The famous mystery author is your Joel.

“Thanks Frank.” And when he takes the mic, thanking his agent, his slick southern sunset voice melts the crowd.

“So, uh he’s gorgeous?!” Someone behind you squeals.

“Who would’ve thought he’d be this hot?!” Someone adds.

The whispers and mummers swarm like wasps buzzing all around you and you want to swat at them.

You can’t wrap your mind around this or the amount of emotions rushing through you. You feel separated from your body, floating detached from the scene and trying to gather yourself back.

Why didn’t he tell you?

Did he not trust you?

Joel suddenly laughs at something Frank says, that gruff wonderful laugh you hear after you show him a ridiculous video or his daughters tease him. It snaps you back into awareness.

“He’s about to read a section!” Your friend giddily whispers under her breath

Now you fully focus on this man, this almost stranger.

He’s so handsome it isn’t fair. He looks like a distinguished professor and your throat tightens seeing how broad his shoulders look in the dark casual suit jacket he wears.

“One of my favorite parts.” He admits quietly. “It’s when Ellie and Sarah realize they can make it outta Pittsburgh together.”

His daughters. He named his characters after them.

Joel clears his throat and begins.

He reads the passage with a magnetic cadence. The words slip from him like the smooth drink of whiskey that lingers on your tongue. When he finishes, an ache twists in your chest.

The applause he gets is shatteringly loud. The smallest bit of pride does float through you. But confusion drowns it out.

The floor now opens to quick questions. Some are about the book itself and the certain decisions made writing wise. Others are obviously about why he stayed hidden for so long.

That one perks you up quickly.

In such typical Joel fashion, he shrugs.

“Just couldn’t figure out Twitter, s’all.”

Everyone laughs at his playful reply and you do as well, but it sounds hollow and watery.

Soon enough the last question arrives.

“Do you ever see yourself writing for any other genres? I mean, we’ve seen horror and some moments of romance in the series. So I’m just curious if you’d write anything else?!” The lady asks brightly and now you simply settle your thoughts aside to listen.

Joel chuckes, a bit breathless and his gaze drops. This entire time he’s teetered between a sly southern charm that’s hypnotized you, to being guarded almost a bit nervous.

But now a boyishly hesitant grin falls over him and it’s so familiar.

”Uh, guess romance would be the next I’d maybe try.” He answers low, bashful.

The crowd erupts into fangirl like shrieks.

“Right?! I keep saying he doesn’t know the potential he has if he became a romance writer!” Frank, who has such a bright and lovely personality, adds.

Too many emotions clash in you.

You wonder if he wants to explore romance writing because of you?

Or a much harsher voice creeps out from the back of your mind whispering maybe you’re just being used for source material.

You quickly stomp those thoughts away.

The rest of the event shifts to the signing and you walk in a sort of guided daze.

“You okay?” Your best friend asks gently, noticing your slight mood change.

You don’t have the heart to tell her the truth yet. This was something she had been looking forward to and you didn’t want to ruin her excitement or experience. So you wearily just smile and tell her your head simply started hurting.

She sympathetically nods.

“Thankfully we won’t be waiting too long.” She adds and explains how the signing would be called by groups.

“We might not have gotten seats, but we did manage to sneak into group A for the signing.” She grins proud and it lifts your spirits.

The line curls against the sides of the bookshelves blocking your view of Joel. It becomes both a blessing and a curse.

Maybe you should wait in the car for his and your sake?

However, something inside you slightly bitter, raw and wanting answers, decides to stay. Besides you, your dear friend tries to keep herself calm but you can sense her bubbling nervous energy.

“I’d be calmer if he wasn’t so damn attractive.” She hisses and a jealous flare gently rises in you.

“Just think,” you reassure her. “He’s probably just as nervous as you.”

The relieved comforted grin she gives you makes staying worth it. But then all of that flies out the window the closer and closer you get to Joel.

Petrified dread claws its way in when you realize your best friend is next in line.

“He looks kinda familiar now that we’re closer.” The casual comment your friend says makes your heart sink.

“Maybe.” You mutter.

The times Joel has been to your place your roommate, your best friend, has been either at work or sleeping. You can only think of the first instant you introduce Joel to her when he picked you up on a date.

Your eyes flicker straight to Joel.

His hair seems so perfectly curled and his dark jacket highlights his wonderful grays.

Thankfully, any discussion of who he might look like gets squashed because your best friend gets called next in line. She turns to you squeaking excitedly and you beam back bright.

Joel lifts his eyes up, like a true southern gentleman wanting to give someone his full attention.

You wait on the side and watch the interaction unfold. Joel chuckles at something your best friend says and you’re glad she’s enjoying herself.

The book signing is done so fast. In a blink, it’s finished. With her newly signed book, your friend turns to you. She makes a slightly embarrassing but endearing noise of excitement that has you laughing.

That’s when your eyes flicker over to Joel and your gaze locks with his.

Instantly, Joel’s handsome face drops. His gorgeous earth eyes widen as he immediately recognizes you. His mouth falls open slightly and a flash of something close to fear fills the depths of his eyes.

He breathes out your name on a shaky exhale.

Everything seems to slow and stop. You don’t know what to say. So all you do is weakly smile.

The fleeting moment fades. The next group in line already giggles moving towards the table.

Time’s up. Turning on your heels to leave with your friend, Joel calls out to you, calls your name.

“Wait!”

You freeze.

Glancing back at him, Joel’s eyes pin you on the spot. An unspoken heaviness hangs in his deep eyes while he stares intently at you.

“It’s okay, we’ll talk later.” By some strange possession of slight bravery, or maybe delusion, you manage to speak.

But it’s all you can say and it’s all you can do before Frank, Joel’s agent, slides in to whisper something to him.

The moment again shatters.

Your best friend however grills you the rest of the day

That’s when you pull out your phone. You show her a photo you secretly took of Joel. It’s one where he’s adorably glaring at his ipad while he tried ordering take out for dinner.

Your best friend shrieks. “He’s your boyfriend?!”

He is.

Your boyfriend, Joel, is a writer, a very famous best selling author.

And that weight yanks you under a dangerous current you can’t seem to swim against.

Even after lunch, even getting back to your apartment and trying to settle your thoughts, your emotions are still so tangled.

You mindlessly scroll through your phone for the rest of the day and a blink, you notice it’s already early evening. Your plan to stay sulking is ruined when your phone starts ringing so loud.

It’s Joel.

“Hello?” You answer as composed as you can.

“Darlin?” His beautiful rich voice sounds hesitant and guarded.

“Hi.” You reply back quietly.

“Can we talk?” He asks just as low.

You agree, expecting to have the discussion on the phone. Except a knock taps on your apartment door and scares you right out of your body.

Ever proactive, ever the man who takes action, Joel stands waiting for you when you open the door.

You’re thankful more than ever that your best friend went to the gym for the evening.

“Wanna sit outside for a bit? Maybe get some air? S’really nice outside today.” He offers gentle.

He’s breaking up with you. That’s what your mind jumps to.

At least the weather is surprisingly kind this early evening.

You’ve sat out here on your apartment’s decent sized balcony with Joel before. But now the energy between you and him shifts strangely.

The sky stretches above a soft sherbet orange. A breeze comes, thankfully not too cold, but you think about maybe heading in to grab a blanket.

Joel however quickly slings off his jacket and drapes it over you. Always the gentleman.

The smell of his cologne, so comforting and masculine, wraps around you like a cloud.

You thank him with a soft small smile and Joel nods. Then he sighs and leans forward on the folding chair.

“Always loved the outdoors.” He begins, a small olive branch of a conversation to break the tension. “The girls and I love hiking the trails out by the lake. You ever been?”

You shake your head no.

“Maybe one day we can all go together.” The comment holds hope, a delicate thread of it. Yet you catch the hesitation.

Your eyes flicker to him, confused and cautious.

“Wait, you aren’t breaking up with me?” You blurt out, maybe just wanting to get it over with. You hate the way your voice cracks slightly.

Joel, with his beautiful concerned wide eyes, snaps his face to you.

“What? Honey no. Thought maybe you’d be the one maybe tryin’ to break up with me.” Joel, who Sarah jokes about how some of their neighbors question if he’s perpetually grumpy, stares at you with a tenderness that melts you to your core.

You can’t help but laugh watery.

“Why d’ya think I’d want to end things with you?” He asks patiently.

You can think of so many.

He’s a famous writer who’s about to maybe become an online sensation. He’s older than you, wiser and seasoned. He’s a full on father with young teenage daughters.

So you reveal your heart to him and all the fears that dwell in its shadows. You wipe away a few tears that manage to spill out.

Joel moves to hold your hands in his, a guarded warmth and protection keeping you stable.

With a heavy sigh, Joel’s attention fully focused on you.

“Honey…I’m so sorry for not telling you about my work, about me, sooner.” He earnestly apologizes and his words drip with comforing earnesty.

Now his gaze drops down to where your hand sits in his.

“Didn’t want it complicatin’ things with us. I knew I had to tell you eventually. But really…I was worried you’d see me differently once you knew. I know I don’t seem like the writin’ type anyway.” He mutters and you miss the hint of embarrassment coloring his tone.

You squeeze his hands.

This could never make you look at Joel in a negative light. If anything, you now feel proud knowing he’s a writer. You do explain your worries though and the ache you felt knowing he kept his from you.

“I know darlin’ and I promise,” he squeezes your hands now. “No more secrets between us.”

“You…us…means more to me than you’ll know.” He adds and you draw his hands up to your mouth.

You kiss his worn hands, his hard working beautiful hands that now move to hold your face so tenderly in their grasp. His thumb strokes your bottom lip delicately as if you’ll disappear from his sight.

“Can I kiss ya baby?”

You nod and in that same breath Joel pulls you towards him. He kisses you light, delicate enough that you feel so precious and treasured within his hold.

It seems like such a simple small kiss but it soaks into your bones.

You have so many questions. And as much as you’d like to make out with your boyfriend on the balcony, you’d like answers.

So you pull away and stand up.

Joel looks adorable as confusion paints his face.

“Don’t worry I’m just getting us a blanket.” You grin at him as you sling on his jacket claiming it as your own.

Blanket in hand you now curl up with him in the lawn chair, thankful for its sturdiness and cozy size. Your heart soars at how quickly Joel pulls you into his arms and basically onto his lap.

It feels like it’s been months since you’ve last been with him, or maybe that’s just how exhausting today was.

Joel sighs content and pleased once you fully rest against him. Hesitantly you ask if it’s okay if you can talk about him, about his work.

“Ask away honey. I’ll tell ya everything n’ anything.” He says firm.

You grin and your thumb starts stroking the back of his hand.

“So what made you decide to reveal yourself now? I heard there was an issue about someone saying they were you?” You ask, thinking of the discussions earlier with your best friend.

“Yeah..” Joel now sighs tired with an ancient weariness that settles over his handsome face.

“Sarah was the one who saw it first on Twitter or wherever it was.” He adds with a grumble.

Your heart aches knowing one of the girls saw it first.

“Didn’t help either that I ain’t online. So it became a whole fuckin’ mess we had to deal with it a couple months back.”

A light bulb goes off inside your brain.

“Was that when you said you had to visit a family friend out of town?” You connect the dots.

“Yup.” Joel nods. “Went to visit Frank, my agent, to try and figure this shit out. Could’ve let it all maybe die down but… ya know.” He huffs and you understand completely.

Joel is too stubborn, a bit too prideful. You almost snort amused just over the thought of him trying to let the situation blow over.

“Frank wants to meet ya by the way.” Now his voice dips with a bashful tone while his hands begin softly stroking your thighs.

“I’d love to meet him too.” You truthfully tell Joel.

“So, are you going to be online now? Should I start making secret accounts to follow you?” You now tease and Joel barks a beautiful amused laugh.

“Baby, I’m over 50. The only apps I need on my phone are candy crush and ESPN. Ain’t got the time or patience for social medias.”

Now you’re the one laughing.

It feels freeing, blissful, like this is the first moment you’re spending time with him all over again. Yet, there’s a deeper sacred connection that settles.

You can’t help but kiss him again and Joel eagerly welcomes you on his lips.

Now his lips move fervently, almost possessively, against yours, licking and trying to consume you. A small moan squeaks out of you.

“Come on baby,” he mutters, shifting you against his lap so that you fully feel his hardness straining against his pants. “Wanna taste ya.”

You’re thankful you manage to drag him back inside because you can’t imagine getting intimate with Joel on the balcony. Well, at least not yet. But that was a thought for another day.

Now in the afterglow’s soft relaxing peace you wish for more time with him.

But Joel must sense that ache too.

“S’late honey. Come back home with me. Even if it’s just for the night.” He mutters against your lips and you can’t deny him. You don’t want to deny him or the aching tug pulling you to him.

That night you fully embrace every inch of the man Joel Miller is and let a dizzying adoration for him swallow you whole.

The next morning, in the soft early still dark shade of his room, Joel wakes you with a tender kiss to your forehead.

“Gotta go meet with Frank for the day. I’ll see ya later, honey.” He mutters against your cozy heated skin.

You hum a soft agreement and sleepily wish him a goodbye before falling back to sleep. After that, you wake up later to a colder and empty bed.

Tugging on another one of Joel’s shirts you head downstairs already missing his presence.

And when you get downstairs, there on the table sits the most gorgeous floral arrangement. Its beautiful vibrant blooms make your heart flutter so fast against its cage.

A folded paper sits beside the flowers. Your name is written on the front in Joel’s slightly chicken scratch like handwriting.

You scramble fast to grab it.

A letter, he’s written you a letter.

“Honey,

I know I’ve already apologized and you’ve forgiven my old undeserving ass.”

You snort at that line but continue on.

“But I just wanted to fully apologize to you again. Might take me a while until I stop, but just be patient with my old bones yeah?”

You would. Your heart would and will always wait for him.

“Doesn’t seem like it but, I aint that good at talking about things, about my feelings. Shocker right?”

You smirk. You know he isn’t good with words - that’s why it almost feels ironic and a bit unreal that he’s an author.

You’ve discovered Joel shows his affection through his actions.

He spent an entire day rearranging a business scheduling conflict just so that Tommy didn’t have to worry about it. Joel never missed a single one of Ellie’s basketball games. Sarah only prefers a certain type of orange juice and Joel never fails to only get that one.

The first few weeks you started dating Joel you got sick with a nasty cold. He dropped off a whole bag of various items like tissues and cough drops. It was then you knew his heart shines through his actions.

He sometimes surprises you with an order from your favorite take out spot. He never lets you touch a door, always opening them for you instead. He’s the most generous lover and never fails to remind you of how tender, how consuming, his passion can be.

Joel does grumble, sometimes even seems grouchy, but he loves fiercely.

And now here he is showing you this side of him, this form of himself as a writer.

So you return to reading his letter.

“I got into writing because it helped me process all my emotions, my thoughts, the good and bad days - everything. And sharing my writing with others, especially with someone as important as you, still makes me feel so vulnerable. Funny how that worked out though huh? Guess fate wanted to drag my ass and make me face my fears and vulnerability and whatnot.”

Someone as important as you - The line makes your heart flutter.

“I know I told you the reasons why I didn’t tell you. But another reason was because I was afraid.

I was afraid of how much you mean to me. Telling you about this part of me would be taking a bigger step. And it scared me shitless. Cause darlin’ I haven’t felt this way in a very long time. Like, as Ellie loves to say, in such a long time that ‘dinosaurs weren’t even fossils.’

That makes you laugh a bit watery but you let his words carry you again.

“You make my damn heart race when you smile. I get so worked up just seeing you walk around my house as if you were always meant to be here. And I didn't want to lose that either. I still don’t.

You feel like a bright future, like waking up after a cloudy week and the sun greets you so nicely. And I just wanna stay in that warmth, your warmth.

Yeah sorry, that line might be too romance novel writer for my league…but like I said I’m thinking about it. And it’s because of you.

We said no more secrets yeah?

So I’m not lying when I say you’ve become so god damn important to me. And I wanna see more days with you, as many as you’ll have with me.

Fuck. This damn letter already feels too long and I hate my old ass for rambling and maybe not making sense. But I adore you honey. Plain in simple.

And I’m just gonna leave it at that.

Don’t miss me too much and I’ll see you soon.

P.S I picked that bookstore as the tour’s first stop here because it’s where I met you… and I’ll always be grateful for that

-Joel”

You now fight back an absolute ocean’s worth of adoration for this man.

Tears clog your throat and you try not letting them flood your vision, but it’s so hard. So hard when you’re this head over heels.

You don’t want to say it yet, and you don’t know if he’s even ready to say it, but the emotion filling you like a newborn star feels like love.

You barely manage to send out a text thanking him and hoping you’ll get to talk to him soon.

Joel, ever the endearing man he is, replies back with a simple heart emoji and you laugh.

You really might love this man.

And you hope, you so brightly hope, that he maybe loves you too.

You think of his book series, of how he became a writer simply wanting to tell his daughters stories. Those stories grew out of his love for them and now he gets to crystallize that among his pages.

You realize how writing truly is its own form of love.

After all, what better way for a writer to show their love, their heart, than to capture you in their words?

You think that’s where writers must live now, in the heart. Or maybe - your maybe gruff handsome one just does. And you happily welcome Joel’s place in yours and hope he resides there forever like a love poem etched into your very soul.

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

Break In

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: 3.4k

Summary: How Y/n ends up moving to the compound

A/N: :(

Warnings: blood, violence, injury, sexual assault, angst, hurt/comfort

You’d been alone for hours which wasn’t rare for your day off. It was in the middle of the week, and rarely was Wanda able to spend it with you due to her busy schedule. For this reason, you’d spent the morning cleaning the apartment and going on a walk because of how nice it was outside. You typically went grocery shopping today, but you were too tired when you returned mid-afternoon and decided to take a nap. 

You barely shut your bedroom door behind you when you hear the unmistakable sound of your front door being kicked in. Your heart jumps into your throat as you look around the room for anything that can be used as a weapon. The only one you have within reach is in the bag you take to work, and you barely have the knife in your hands when your door swings open with a loud bang.

You can’t stop the surprised gasp that leaves you at the sight of two men standing in your bedroom. You don’t recognize them, not that you’d expected to, and you move without thinking. You grab the lamp on the table behind you and bring the heavy metal base down hard against one of the intruders faces. You miss and it only hits his shoulder, but you still hear a pained curse as you’re tackled onto the bed. 

Your breath is knocked out of you and you stare wide eyed up at the brunette who is crushing you underneath his weight. You flip open your knife as his arm presses down against your throat to stop any sound you were about to make. You can’t tell what you’re aiming for, but you nearly sigh in relief when you hear him scream as you stab him hopefully somewhere it really hurts. You drag the knife up as you rip it free, and you’re rewarded with another scream and a spray of blood that covers your clothes and the comforter. 

You don’t have much time to celebrate before you’re hit across the face and thrown off of the bed. You manage to hold onto your weapon, but you feel a burning pain in your stomach from where you land on the ground and roll into the wall. You focus just long enough to close the knife and throw it under the bed before you focus on the shadow looming over you. 

“You’re going to pay for that you little bit-!” 

You’re grateful about many things in life. First and foremost, that when Wanda moved in with you, she didn’t make you clean up all of the clutter in the bedroom. You’d of course compromised and made room for her by relocating some of your books to the spare bedroom. You’d wanted your girlfriend to feel comfortable, but some of your old habits die hard.

Including moving some of your old storage containers from school. 

You reach for the bottom drawer that you know if filled with notecards and random pages from your anatomy class first year. You slide it free from the rest and fling it up and toward the sneering face above you. He’s momentarily distracted by the sudden appearance of pink and green paper, which gives you enough time to stand up and drop the container on his head and shove him to the ground. He stumbles into his friend who’s grabbing a knife much larger than yours from his belt. You curse and do the only thing you can think of and charge toward the brunette who’s thrown the plastic container onto the floor, but isn’t prepared for you to barrel into him. 

“Fuck.” 

You curse at the strain of shoving him into his friend hard enough that they both end up on the floor. You ignore it as best you can as you jump over the duo and run for the front door. You grab your phone where you left it on the counter as you fly by the kitchen on your way out. You are already dialing when you take a step out into the breezeway. 

“Oh no you don’t.” 

You press the call button at the same time that someone grabs you from behind with an arm around your waist and a hand over your mouth so your scream is only loud enough for your next-door neighbor who’s never home to hear. 

You continue to curse him as he drags you back into your apartment despite your protests. He’s much larger than you are and you’re easily subdued when a third hand reaches out for your phone that you’re holding onto for dear life. You realize it’s the brunette that you stabbed when you notice the bloody hand out of the corner of your eye. 

You’re getting lightheaded from how tightly you’re being held back against the body behind you, and you realize that if you don’t do something soon, you’re going to be hurt or worse if these two are after you for the reason you suspect. 

“Ow, you fucking bitch!”

You throw your head back as hard as you can into the brunette’s nose as he drags you past the kitchen. Your phone falls to the floor when you throw it down, and you scream as soon as you catch your breath. 

“Let me go you fucker! You’re going to—”

You’re honestly not sure what you would have said next because any threat felt empty when it was two against one, and you were once again on your back beneath an angry blonde who had blood running down his face. You only have a second to feel victorious about the probable broken nose when you’re hit so hard you see stars. You curse under your breath and try to regain your bearings only to realize you’re on your stomach now. You panic when you feel strong hands twist your arms behind you back and hold you down while another set of hands fall to your hips. You twist and turn and try to break free, but it’s useless and you feel your anxiety peak when you hear the rustling of clothes behind you. 

Someone fists your hair and shoves your face into the comforter so you can barely breathe, but this doesn’t stop you from screaming when you feel a hand between your legs. You try to move away but you’re only pressed harder into the mattress and the hand in your hair tightens.

“I’m going to have fun…” 

He trails off and suddenly his hand is gone from between your legs and your hair. You realize that you’re no longer being held down a few seconds after you register the two nearly simultaneous thuds. You sit up on your forearms grimacing in pain as you look around for the intruders. You don’t see them immediately but you hear someone move behind you and your gaze falls to your precious turtle paperweight that you keep on the bedside table next to you. You lunge for it and spin around prepared to launch it into someone’s skull, but you stop short when you spot a familiar face.

“Wait! It’s okay, it’s just me.” 

You end up shot putting it at Bucky who manages to catch it and set it aside before he takes a second to look you over. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees that your injuries appear minor. He reaches out for you when he sees your eyes drop to the two dead men on the ground.  Their blood soaking through the carpet and filling the room with a sickening smell.

“Come on, Y/n. Let me get you out of here.” 

You don’t think about the dead men or the police that may be on their way, and you just nod numbly as you reach out for your friend and allow him to lead you out of your wrecked apartment. 

Wanda’s pacing like a caged animal as she waits for you to arrive. She’d been in the middle of a meeting for something she can’t even remember now when you’d called her. You knew that she was rarely available when at work, and you always texted her unless someone was wrong. So when she saw you calling her she didn’t hesitate to answer. She hadn’t been expecting to hear what she did, and the sound of you shouting at someone to let you go sent her running. 

She’d told Bucky to keep close to you since she’d moved in, but today he’d been a little farther away running errands for her. She’d had him check in every hour or so by walking by your apartment, and she was grateful that he was on his way back when you called her. He’d called her after finding you and given her a rundown of what happened. She’d been furious and slightly miffed that she hadn’t been the one to kill the two men that hurt and violated you. She’d sent Steve to survey the damage at the apartment and clean up the evidence. He’d sent her pictures as requested and ever since Wanda saw the destruction and the amount of blood in the bedroom, she’d been inconsolable. 

Bucky had told her that you had a few minor injuries, but he’d found you being held down on the bed. She luckily didn’t need to ask before Bucky clarified that everyone was still dressed, but that didn’t stop her from seeing red. She had asked for her rooms upstairs to be ready for when you arrived and finished up in medical. You wouldn’t be able to stay at your apartment anytime soon, if ever again, but she’ll figure that out later. Right now her main concern was you. 

The sound of approaching footsteps makes Wanda stop in her tracks and turn. She feels her heartrate kick up and her face fall when she spots you in a wheelchair that’s being pushed by Bucky. There are a couple of nurses walking behind you, but Wanda can’t spare them a glance as she studies you and feels a wave of guilt wash over her.

Your cheek is bruised and you have a couple of cuts on your forehead and temple from where you’d hit the wall or been struck. She notices that your shirt’s been cut away and you’re holding some bloodied gauze over your stomach. Wanda wonders if you’re dizzy and if that’s why you’re sitting down, but you clarify as soon as you see her panicked expression. 

“I’m okay, it’s mostly my back.” 

Wanda cringes at your voice and how rough it sounds. She looks to Bucky for an explanation, but he just shakes his head as he leads you to the closest room. Wanda watches as you’re brought to the bed and she doesn’t realize she hasn’t said anything until she’s standing right beside you. She sticks to the side that the nurses aren’t on as they rush to get an IV in you and hook you up to something. You wince a little as Wanda reaches out to brush your hair behind your ear which unfortunately reveals caked blood that she hadn’t noticed before.

She doesn’t care what you say. You’re definitely not okay.

“I’m so sorry this happened, Y/n.” 

She watches as you lift your hand off of your stomach at the doctor’s request and she pulls away the gauze to reveal a steadily bleeding wound. Wanda didn’t even realize a doctor had arrived until she’s being ushered away so they can take care of you. You squeeze her hand before shooting her a nervous look as you bite your lip. Wanda doesn’t care what you’re about to say, she’ll agree to it and more if it will help you feel better.

“Will you come back soon? Please?” 

Wanda gets in the way one last time to kiss your forehead before nodding in agreement. She knows she needs to give them time to examine you figure out the extent of your injuries, but selfishly she hopes it doesn’t take long. 

“They won’t be able to keep me away.” 

Wanda focuses on your smile as she reluctantly backs away and heads to the door. She’ll be back soon, but first she’s going to figure out what the hell happened this afternoon. 

Unfortunately, there’s not much else to tell her when she checks in again with Steve. They’ve cleaned everything up and they’re figuring out how to replace some things that were damaged beyond repair. He has several people looking into who could have hired the intruders, but so far nothing. Wanda is frustrated but not enough to leave you and try to find answers for herself. She needs to trust that her friends can figure this out while she focuses on you. She’d thought more about what they could have wanted. If their goal had been to kidnap you, they would have left before Bucky arrived, right? If they’d wanted to kill you, as much as she hates to admit it, they probably could have succeeded before help arrived. That said, their injuries told her that you put up a hell of a fight which has her proud and disgusted in equal measure. She hates the idea of anyone touching you, and she swears that if they weren’t dead, she’d enjoy spending hours tearing them limb from limb. 

Wanda’s distracted from her thoughts of murder by someone clearing their throat. She turns to see the doctor who’s been treating you, and she immediately has her full attention. After thanking Bucky for his help, he’d offered to go figure out what he could. This left just Wanda to figure out how you were doing. 

“How is she?” 

Wanda listens patiently as your doctor tells her of all your injuries. The ones on your face she’d seen and guessed how those had happened. She’s horrified to hear that you’d been thrown against a wall, and she has to push down her murderous thoughts to pay attention to the rest. You’d accidentally cut yourself on your knife, but luckily this injury was already treated and closed. It was mostly your back and head that would bother you. She’d been told that the soreness of your throat from being choked will likely go away in a couple of days. Wanda’s told to watch for any signs of a concussion and if they appear that they’ll run additional tests on you. For now, you just needed plenty of rest and some pain medication.

Wanda opens her mouth to thank the doctor, but she stops when she remembers what Bucky had told her. She forces herself to speak even though her mouth is suddenly bone dry.

“Was she hurt anywhere else?” 

Wanda can’t make herself say the words, but luckily the blonde seems to understand and she feels overwhelming relief when her response is a negative. 

“Not that I can tell, and not that she mentioned.” 

You’re lying down when Wanda comes back into the room, and you immediately smile at the sight of her. You consider sitting up to greet her but Wanda rushes forward to stop you. She kneels before you and reaches for one of the hands that you’ve propped your head on.

“Hey detka. Are you feeling any better?” 

She watches as you settle back down and nod with a heavy sigh. All of your injuries feel like a dull ache and you’re glad that your exhaustion has finally kicked in. You could sleep for days, but you wanted to make sure you saw Wanda first. 

“A little. I’m mostly just tired now.” 

You shift slightly and Wanda notices that your IV line beside your pillow dips down toward the ground before running up to the machine that’s hooked to a metal pole. She figures you’re receiving fluids and pain meds. At least she hopes you are. The glazed look in your eyes confirms her suspicion and she figures she should let you sleep.

She nods before she kisses your forehead again and studies your injuries.

“I bet. You should rest, Y/n.” 

You seem to start at this and your eyes open as you look around the room briefly. You aren’t sure what else Wanda has to do today and you don’t want to assume that she’ll drop everything for you, but you really don’t want to be alone. You say this and Wanda shakes her head when you ask if someone’s been assigned to watch you if she can’t.

“I’m going to stay with you. If that’s okay?” 

Wanda sees relief and joy in your eyes as you nod only to immediately regret it. You wince but Wanda doesn’t get to comment on it before you try to pull her closer.

“Please. Will you hold me?” 

It takes some maneuvering and extra caution on Wanda’s part, but a couple of minutes later she’s lying behind you with her arms wrapped around your waist. You already feel safer and you wish you’d never had to wake up this morning to find Wanda gone.

You think back to what happened and you realize how lucky you were that their goal hadn’t been to simply kill you. Although you got a few hits in, they hurt you a lot more and it will take you days to feel better. You shift underneath the thin sheet and cringe at the memory of how far they could have gone if Bucky hadn’t showed up. 

You don’t realize you’re crying until you open your eyes to find them clouded by tears. You take a deep shuddering breath before squeezing Wanda’s hands where they rest low on your stomach.

“I’m sorry.” 

You barely whisper this but Wanda hears it and frowns in confusion. She can’t imagine why you feel the need to apologize. She’s the one who feels like she’ll need to grovel for forgiveness for not stopping you from getting hurt. She’d thought about it a little, and as long as you were on board with the idea, she figured that it would be best for you to live here with her. It was safer for sure, and although farther from your work, she knew that she could protect you better. 

“Why are you sorry?” 

Wanda nuzzles her face in the crook of your neck and kisses you as you continue to cry. Her frown deepens when you start to try and wiggle out of her hold, but she lets you go immediately when you start to cry harder. She barely understands you through your hiccupping sobs.

“I was s-so scared. I want t-to be brave like you, but I thought I--.”

You trail off and shake your head again as you turn in Wanda’s hold so you’re facing her. You hide your face in your girlfriend’s hair as your breaths continue to come as uneven gasps. Wanda holds you tightly and grits her teeth as she tries to figure out how to tell you that you’re not at fault. That you did everything right. 

“Y/n, you were so brave. I saw what you did to them, and it’s okay that you were scared. Fear can be useful.” 

Your breathing starts to calm and your tears have slowed as you relax in Wanda’s arms. You just wanted to be close to her and have her hold you in the way that makes you feel invincible. That nothing can hurt you when she’s around. 

“If being afraid is what keeps you fighting and brings you back to me; it’s not something to be ashamed of, okay?” 

Wanda waits as you think about this for a bit, and eventually you sigh before nodding in admission. As much as you hate what happened to you, you’re glad that you have a life worth fighting for. Someone who you desperately don’t want to be without. 

You fall asleep a little bit later, and you miss Steve coming back with an update an hour later. He tells Wanda that the two who attacked you were a dead end. They traced any and all contact with who hired them but nothing. Fake names and fake accounts left them with even more questions than they’d had before. This discovery is all the reassurance that Wanda needs to decide that she’ll have you move here with her. If someone is after you, she wants you close to the compound. No one who’s out to get you will be able to touch you here…

Masterlist

[falrydyke]

against the rules (pt.1)

ceo!abby anderson x secretary!f!reader

the content warnings only include what happens in the specific part!!! there is no nsfw in this part, but there will be smut eventually!!!

cw: slow burn (multiple part series), slight angst, y/n used (IM SORRYYYYY), mentions of drinking

(i’m sorry this sucks ass, i just really wanted to get pt.1 out so y’all aren’t waiting forever 😭)

You sat at your desk, typing up an email to your boss when the phone rang. You picked it up and, using your customer service voice, answered, “Hello, Anderson Offices. How can I help you?” You were smiling even though the person on the other line couldn’t see you.

The person went on and on about needing to make a meeting with the ceo and you took a deep breath. You got these calls about 5 times every day.

“Ma’am, Miss Anderson is busy today. I’m sure you know she has a very busy schedule due to being the ceo of a business,” You said, smiling forcefully. You clicked on the calendar on your computer and scrolled a bit before continuing, “The next available spot she has to meet is in a month, on September 6th. Is that alright for you?”

The woman kept pushing and pushing before you eventually told her that was the soonest you could fit her in and she hung up.

You groaned and rubbed your forehead. Stupid people, you muttered. You were about to call your boss before the phone rang again.

The phone sat there, ringing for a moment before you finally grabbed it and started, “Hello! Anderson Offices, how can I help you today?”

You almost dropped the phone when a familiar voice responded, “Y/n. I need to see you in my office. Now.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, your stomach doing flips, twists, and turns. “Y-Yes, ma’am. Right away.”

The black heels that you wore that day clacked against the floor as you speed walked towards the elevator. You pressed the buttons as fast as you could and waited impatiently to get to the top. You quickly walked over to the huge doors at the end of the hallway, your heart beating at an insane speed.

Click! The door opened slowly without making a sound (besides the small sound of turning the door knob). Your boss had her back turned, staring out the window while sat in her large seat. You could see her large arms sat on the arm rests.

“Sit,” Her voice boomed in the large room that echoed so easily. Your heels continued their clacking as you made your way to the seat across from her. You sat, your legs crossed over each other and your hands perched in your lap.

“Did someone call earlier?” She asked, still not turning around.

You were going to nod and then remembered she couldn’t see you, so you said, “M-Mhm. Wanted to meet with you, so I told her your next opening was in a-“ You were cut off when Abby turned and slammed her hand on the table. You jumped in your seat and stared at her with wide eyes.

“Do you even know who that was?!” She yelled, glaring at you.

Abby Anderson. Intimidating, terrifying, and possibly dangerous. Her blue eyes seemed to pierce through you, as if she could see every single thought running around in your mind.

She went to yell again but you just mumbled, “No.”

Abby looked at you like you were stupid. “How long have you worked here?”

“A year—“ You barely got your words out before she continued as if you hadn’t said anything.

“How the fuck did you not recognize her voice?!” She panted, out of breath from just how angry she was.

You stood there with wide eyes, breathing shakily. Abby stared into your eyes. The silence was louder than the screaming that had just happened.

“I’ll call her back and tell her that you’re unavailable.” You turned and quickly walked out the door, not looking back once. The sound of the door slamming shut behind you was the last thing Abby heard before she slammed her hands against her desk and screamed.

———————————————————————

After you called the woman back and told her that Abby wasn’t available anymore, you worked until your shift was over. As soon as you looked at the time and saw that it was 8:03pm, you rushed out the door.

You sat in a cab on the way home and stared out the window, watching buildings and people pass by. Even though it was later in the day, the streets were still full of tourists, women club hopping, and your typical Chicago wanderers.

You grabbed your bag and handed the driver your money, smiling and thanking him before getting out and walking into your apartment building. You got paid surprisingly well for being a secretary, mainly because you worked specifically for Abby. The door clicked open and you smiled when your cat came running.

Vixen wrapped around your legs as you shut the door behind yourself, the black cat purring.

“Did you miss me, baby?” A big smile spread across your face as you set your things down and picked Vixen up. She settled into you, purring still.

You carried Vixen to your living room and set her down, going to the kitchen quickly and grabbing a glass of wine. The couch made an oomph sound as you sat down and pet Vixen while you sipped your wine.

All of a sudden, your phone rang. You groaned and grabbed it. What the fuck? Why is she calling me?

You answered and put the phone to your ear, “Miss Anderson, why are you calling me at almost nine o’clock at night?”

“Y/n,” She slurred. Was she drunk? “Are you at home?”

“Miss Anderson — are you.. drunk??” You finally spoke what had been swirling in your brain since she started talking.

“No, no, y/n, of course not!” She snickered. “Why would you think that?!” Abby burst out laughing, and finally when her giggling faded, she confessed, “Y/n… I think I am drunk! You’re so smart!”

You groaned and rubbed your temple. “Miss Anderson, go to bed. Please.”

“Mmm… why are you telling me what to do?” She scoffed.

Please don’t yell, please don’t yell, please don’t- “Do not tell me what to do, y/n, I am your boss.” She said, her voice raised.

“Yes, right, sorry Miss Anderson. Goodnight. I’m going to bed seeing as I have work in the morning.” You responded with a forced smile and hung up.

I need a new job.

[vampiretendencies]

throw another stone at a glass house

request/summary; your writing literally gives me life. love it sm <3 would you be able to do something where jj and the reader get into an argument at dinner but they have a rule to never go to sleep mad at each other?

pairing; jj maybank x fem!reader

warnings; fluff & angst, maybe a bit suggestive

authors note; love loved writing this anon :,) pls continue to send in requests ! gif creds to owner

His cured blood was boiling— searing even.

Eatery being complacent, fairy bulbs roped neatly and whimsically throughout the establishment. Fake plastic plant leaves braided about the paneled open roof. The trimming on the tables simplistic and clothed white, any other vibrancy would clash with the modern elegance that was being established. Clammer from steel trays and the mouthy Kooks that JJ was rubbing elbows with.

His attire is classy to fit his false image— dapper wrinkle-free black button up: buttons done up until the narrowing of his chest, not too revealing, not too Pogue-like. Arms broad and fibrous, giving quite the show whilst they bulged and unbulged with every movement he made. Grey slacks, steamed specifically for this event, an absolute fool as to not recognizing himself cleaned up so pleasantly.

The amount of meals he missed simply for this one meal, to scrimp and scrape pennies together merely to see a joyous picture-perfect smile planted on your face.

And he hadn’t told you he was doing so, but for about around a month now he’s been saying ‘Got a special night for us in the works baby.’

You knew it was tonight and you knew the address.

It wasn’t a familiar one, no, the both of you, Pogues, and not having heard of such a lavish restaurant. Hell, JJ was even awestruck himself when he stepped foot in the door.

But to him it was showing you a glimpse into the future with him. The life he would scavenge to define, to escape the one he’s living in now.

Full Kook.

But, nevertheless a Pogue at heart.

With that being said, he cannot fathom as to why you wouldn’t be here.

As to why you wouldn’t be here basking in the night, with him.

As to what could possibly be any more revelation, right here.

“Sir, are you ready to order yet?”

The same lanky waiter, with a nasal like voice spoke— and the irritation of it made JJ’s skin crawl. His class bow tie, with upheld posture was something JJ cut his eyes at, interrupting his thoughts as he already done prior.

“I told you no the past three times, didn’t I?”

JJ bit back at the man, partially because he’d been to JJ’s table all those times within the span of twenty minutes, not to mention prior to when he’d arrived two hours ago. The waiters mouth turns up in disgust.

“M’waitin’ for my girl, alright?”

He proceeds to add, confirming again to not come back unless he proclaimed he was ready. A kind way of saying ‘fuck off’.

“We cannot continue to keep holding your table this long, there are other people waiting to eat.”

“I’ll call her.”

The waiter clicks his tongue, spinning on his heels to the rest of his section to serve. And JJ presses your contact in his phone, as he did thirty six calls ago— to be exact.

Pitiful, going straight to voice mail, beating organ falling straight to his half-cut boot clad feet.

Pissed, seeing to it that he should be. All this money, all this devotion, only for it to go to waste due to you not being on time?

JJ would give his soul away not feel this.

On the verge of flipping over this table and making a scene just for shits and giggles, or to cope.

The reason you were late was anonymous to him. A slumber took over you, sleeping in later than usual after work, exhausted in that shared apartment. Forgetting to charge your phone, all events that pushed you farther and farther behind. Remnants leaving you pressed to get ready for the event, all whilst having to catch a ride from Kie.

One would probably wonder why JJ simply didn’t wait for you to get ready and just drive you to the surprise himself. He was too adamant, prying on the idea that, even appearance would be a remembrance factor.

Small heels colliding with cement in a clack sound, digits on the iron knob studying the building once more, to assure yourself this location was right.

Pulled straight out of a dream.

And you prodded on the thought of JJ affording this, the effort that went into it. Wondering why he thought he had to spend so much just on you, yet impressed with your boyfriend— if only you knew the sheer devastation upon him.

The red lacey satin of your dress was enough to turn heads and you did just that, strutting whimsically to the front podium to be sat at the table with JJ. Every Kook eye studied you, but you spotted one head of hair in particular. Sat in a dainty wooden chair that caused his back to be turned to you.

Numerous round tables, purely yearning for just that one.

That one with the unearthly being; light locks dancing over his features, and a jawline fierce enough to cut paper.

The one that’s battling with himself as to wether or not to make a big deal out of this, the moment he saw you next.

Little did he know you were feet away, gawking at him and the entirely ethereal gesture he did for you.

Jesus, he looks so fucking hot.

Dapper.

Heat growing on his neck whilst he feels a shadow standing over him, he continues to play with the given metal utensils in front of him.

Perhaps the knife grazing past his fingertips, would pain much less than the ache of disappointment surging in him.

He almost, turns to face the shadow preparing to tell the waiter off. But as his sense receptors fill with that familiar warm vanilla scent ...

He doesn't.

He doesn't because he knows it's you.

And he's gathering himself for the argument that's about to ensue.

Did JJ want to fuss and fight with you?

Absolutely not, he avoids confrontation at any given moment.

However, he is also human and can only take so much.

Your graceful hand stretches over his flexed back, tensing up at a touch that would normally lull him away into no tomorrow. Blue orbs daggering into your figure overtop his eyelashes, clearing his throat at your presence. Your chair scratched along the patterned wooden floor, a notion JJ always does; pulling your chair out.

This time, you do it with no complaints; declaring to avoid the subject at hand. Acknowledging that you were in deep shit with your lover.

That exact lover teaching you so: deny, deny, deny.

And God, that dress is hugging you so tight his hairs stand up on his neck. Alluring and sensual.

If he wasn't so fucking livid, he'd rile himself up enough to temper delicate, mouth-biting, love marks to your neck.

Over

And over

Again.

Until he got his fill.

You're supposed to be mad at her, JJ thought to himself.

"Hi, J!"

His insides rumbled as if he ate sour food.

But, no food would be eaten tonight.

"Hey."

His tone laced with malice and defeat. The worse kind of greeting, not the usual 'baby' or 'pretty girl' attached to it.

Then you knew were in for it.

"Thank you for tonight, s'so pretty baby."

Reading you, he knew you were probably thinking how he managed to get a table here. But something this polite, it was uncalled for to ask such a question.

"Yeah, it was prettier earlier."

He muttered under his breath, with his face contorting into a frown. Across the table yet so far away, the bright light of the eatery highlighting his cheek bones so handsomely. And you longed for him to be, himself.

"What'd you say?"

His words unclear, he was someone that usually has a voice prominent enough to hear from miles away; so it couldn't have been anything loving.

"Nothin'."

Accent think and harsh, eye contact here and there, though it wasn't anything promising.

"Gonna' have to fix your face J, it might ruin the night."

You gasped out a laugh, but to JJ it wasn't fucking funny.

If he wanted to glower, then he'd do so and he meant it.

How dare you joke about something he busted his ass to do, money that could've been enough to pay the apartments rent that month.

He thought you were being ungrateful and that you didn't appreciate him.

First you were behind time, and now you're laughing in his damn face beating around the obvious bush that was weighing him down.

And he can't help himself.

"No ... you ruined the Goddamn night!" He spat, voice broad and demanding, through grit teeth. Knowing that if he spoke any louder the couple would be asked to leave.

He's disgusted with you for being so careless with his feelings.

A night that was supposed to be filled with desperate, needy touches, and bellies full of the finest food; JJ could find it coming to a halt.

You grew ansty in your seat at his remark, lungs missing air and guilt replaced it.

Remorse entering your features.

Falling apart at the cause of his disfunction being you.

"I didn't mean to, JJ."

You reach for his hand across the table, veins apparent and digits long; in effort to console him for your mishap of being extremely late. And he lets you interlock your finger with his upsettingly, though he waited for that same touch all night; unable to deny any touch from you.

To get his point across, he lets go.

"But, you did."

He corrected you with a tilt of his head, replacing your missing fingers with a comb through his hair.

"I-I overslept after work ... and-"

"That's such bullshit. Do you know how many long hours I worked for tonight? Just for you to not be here?"

The palm of his hand slams against the table, drawing the attention of the couple next to the two. You hurriedly shush him, bringing his anger back down to earth.

"M'trying to say sorry JJ."

Both sets of eyes glare at eachother as if in competition, and JJ's stomach whirls.

"I don't want a sorry, I wanted you to be here."

"Well ... well, I'm here now. We can still order, J."

You try again but ultimately fail.

"M'not sitting here with you and pretending like everything's 'dandy', when you fucked everything up."

His words were cold and emotionless. You search for everything to say, but all that JJ said clarified it for you. Your sullen heart thumped, salty tears brimming at corners of your eyes.

Making you feel small.

Fighting to prevent them, so you didn’t fall apart in the middle of this restaurant.

“C’mon, let’s go.”

He wasn’t cruel, not enough away, to leave you here with no way back to the shared home.

No matter how big the fight or the cause of it, it always left JJ wondering if you still besotted him the way he did you.

He wondered why, altogether going with the fact that nothing was ever permanent in his life,

Did you still crave him— on your lips, in your lungs, and beneath your skin?

One way to describe the ride home was— sickeningly tense.

Amid his rage, his hand clutches the wheel so tight that his knuckles turned white. Stealing glances at you, hoping you didn’t hate him. Neither of them able to etch a sentence, whilst the radio played and you sat turned with your knees to the door staring out of the window.

Oddly close enough to your position now.

On the edge of your side of the bed. Admiring JJ peel off his pants and unbutton his shirt, leaving them aimlessly on the carpeted floor— stripped down to his only boxers.

You’d thought you wouldn’t get much comfort tonight, being that he avoided even still after arriving home. Mustering a ‘gonna’ pick up the kitchen’, knowing full well it was only to an excuse to not be up under you while you both were overstimulated and on edge. Leaving you to get the bed ready and practice your night time routine. That’s why you are in the pajama attire of JJ’s t-shirt, his musk still attached to it.

His flesh on fire, conscious that you were boring at him.

‘When you fucked everything up,’ stung your chest and tainted your mind.

Reflecting, he’d wished he would’ve cut you some slack.

His baby, that he hoped for on nights when he had no one.

He baby, that he hoped for on every shooting star.

His baby, that he hoped for in a crowd of people.

His baby.

There was this rule book.

This rule book, was true and real, and contained all the expectations you and JJ had for eachother being together. It was for numerous reasons to begin with, but a year passed by and another and they fully became implicated.

The rule book was a thin black note book, adorned with two red pairs of lips. One was yours, and one was JJ’s— having put red lipstick on his puckered lips, afterwards staining your entire face with them.

Painting your face with his desire for you.

And still that notebook remains framed in the living room, just above the TV.

Rule #1: Never go to sleep mad at eachother.

It was in big, chunky black letters— JJ wrote it and with every letter he wrote he meant it more. One would think cheating would be at the top of the list— but that wasn’t a worry.

It wasn’t a concern because if JJ could inject you into his veins he would do just that.

And so would you.

Opening up his heart to you was not a thing he’d ever regret doing.

Letting himself become infatuated with you, and letting you treat him the way he deserved to be.

You’d silently prayed that JJ would enforce the rule tonight, seeing as even though you did fuck up, you had reason to be irate as well.

His feet pad against the khaki carpet to switch off the bedroom lights. Miscellaneous TV show, playing whilst it illuminated his appearance. He made a b-line for his side of the bed, queen size engulfing him. And you did the same, twisting to lie in bed next to him, but not right beside him.

Lying the exact same— backs flat against the black silk sheets, duvet pulled up past either arms. Pairs of eyes darting at the the other. Except JJ’s left arm is behind his head, the muscle fissuring with ease as it grooved forward from the small glance you got. His right arm is the one closest to you, flat in the open space between the two.

He doesn’t know what to do.

He doesn’t know how to lay.

He is so use to having skin on skin contact, but now he’s lying alone and deprived of your touch.

And you would initiate but you quiver at being denied again.

“Y’know you can’t go to sleep yet.”

His raspiness booms and echoes off the walls, causing you to jump in the slightest. Still continuing to look forward at the cinema before him, you bore into him with furrowed eyebrows— head turning on the firm pillow.

“How come?”

His insides fluttered at your melodic and rhythmically put together voice.

He’s still scolding to the touch, but realizing his tad of unreasonableness consumes him. Turning to his side, he faces you, an everlasting lump in his throat.

“Rule number one-“

“Never go to bed mad at eachother.”

You finish his sentence, and his mouth is partially open. Heartbeat becoming deathly, hands clammy at him bringing the rule book up. He remembered.

He remembered it all.

“So can we stop being mad?”

He pleads, voice cracking in the slightest.

Giving himself to you in every way possible.

Vulnerability only amendable when he’s near you.

Enchanted and explicitly, letting you suck his soul in.

And he didn’t care.

“I was never mad at you J, you were mad at me.”

Solely, truthful acknowledging that you couldn’t be viled at him chewing you out at dinner. Feeling like you deserved every bit of it.

“I s-shouldnt have said that, baby m’sorry.”

His lone hand encapsules your shoulder, the pet name leaving his mouth smoothly, a part of his everyday vocabulary. You crane your neck to place small pecks to each one of his knuckles, showing each one more attention than the last.

“S’okay, I get it J.”

“Just wanted us to have tonight, for us.”

“I ruined it, I know-“

“Nothing’s ruined … we still have us.”

His head lowers, lips puckering in the faintest way. Softly pressing with yours, all whilst enveloping you closer into his frame. An embrace his sore body hungered for. Tongue delving into your mouth, molding together like puzzle pieces. Angrily kissing to make up for the love lost today, he hummed at the comforting sensation.

“And m’not letting go of that, baby.”

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Danger Zone (Part 6) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 3.5k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Secret Relationship; Angst; Undefined Relationships; Overprotective Family; Background Relationships; Visit to an Obstetrician; Medical Inaccuracies Just in Case; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: You and Jake go to your appointment together. And then you sit down to tell Maverick the news.

Series Master List

Master List

Jake had never quite felt so far out of his depth than when he was sitting alone in a gynecological office. 

You had gone back with the medical assistant, who told him that he was supposed to wait in the waiting room until someone came and got him. And so, Jake was just sitting there, trying not to make eye contact with anyone. He had awkwardly made eye contact with a girl who was in college, who stared at him like he was an invader, and Jake hadn't dared to pick his head up since.

A little squeal tore his eyes from his phone and over to where the only other man in the room was sitting. The man was probably around Jake's age, mid-thirties, but unlike Jake, he looked completely at ease in his seat.

Maybe that had something to do with the little girl in his arms.  

“Where’s Mommy?” the girl asked her dad. 

“She’s talking with the doctor about your little brother. You’ll see her in a little bit.”

“Okay,” the girl returned, pressing her hand against her dad’s face, causing him to chuckle and grab her hand, pressing a kiss to it before dropping it again. “Can we get blueberries?”

“You want blueberries?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t have any on me, sweetie, but you can have some when we get home, okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed, sending her dad a cheek-scrunching smile. 

“Jake?” a voice called, making Jake realize that he had been staring. 

Turning to see the medical assistant from earlier standing at the door, he quickly stood up. Jake followed her back through the halls to the room where you were seated on an exam table. You smiled at Jake as he walked over to your side. 

“Hey,” you greeted him as he sat down. "You alright?"

"Yeah," Jake assured you, nodding slowly. "My first time at a gynecologist. Just a little nervous, that's all."

"I promise to not poke and prod you," your doctor joke, turning to Jake. "I'm Dr. Jennings. It's nice to meet you."

"You as well," Jake returned politely.

"Alright, now let's get to what you two came here for," Dr. Jennings replied, standing up with a kind smile.

You shifted the patient gown and Dr. Jennings covered your small bump in a clear gel. You shifted a bit and glanced over at Jake, who seemed to still look like a fish out of water. Which, for a large man who usually radiated confidence, was a rare sight to see.

"Let's take a look now," Dr. Jennings stated, causing you and Jake to turn to the monitor.

There were a lot of random shapes and movement on the screen and Jake half-wondered if he was in some kind of delusion that he was going to wake up from. But then the image on the screen shifted and Jake didn't need your hand suddenly reaching out for him to tell him what he was seeing on the screen. Jake took your hand in his own, subconsciously holding his breath for a moment.

“And here’s your baby.”

Jake wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting to see when he walked in there. He wasn’t exactly a scholar on pregnancy. It was supposed to just look like a little ball, right? He thought so. But that image in front of him, there was a clearly defined head. The rest of it wasn’t too clear, but that was definitely a baby. A baby human. Your baby human. His baby human. Your shared baby human.

"Everything looks normal," Dr. Jennings reported, moving the wand around a bit.

You turned to Jake with a relieved smile, and he shot you one back, trying to not let his nerves show. You turned back to the monitor as Dr. Jennings pressed a few buttons.

“And here’s the heartbeat.” 

She flipped a switch and suddenly the distinct sound of a heartbeat, though one that was much faster than Jake was expecting, echoed around the room. Jake looked up, a shocked expression on his face because it was one thing to just see the baby, but to hear them just made it all the more real.

"Is it supposed to be that fast?" Jake asked, turning to Dr. Jennings, who smiled in return.

"Yes, your baby's heartbeat is perfectly normal. And very strong. You might have a little fighter on your hands."

"Wouldn't surprise me," you mused, staring at the screen while you listened to your child's heartbeat.

Jake turned away from Dr. Jennings and took a moment to stare at you as you took in the moment. You had been nervous when he met you in the parking lot with your Notes app pulled up to your list of questions for your doctor. But whatever happened before Jake showed up must have settled you and now, with your baby moving right in front of you and their heartbeat echoing in their ears.

And you, well, you looked like you were glowing.

And even though he heard that the term “glowing” wasn’t accurate to describe a pregnant woman, he couldn’t come up with a better one. You were absolutely, positively glowing.

“So, I would put you at about fourteen weeks,” the obstetrician explained to you, causing you to turn away from the monitor. “I’m just going to take some measurements, but please feel free to ask any questions that you have.” 

“So, everything looks healthy and happy?” you immediately asked, sitting up a bit. 

“We’re still waiting on your blood results, but everything else appears to be normal. The heart rate is good. Very strong. They seem to be measuring well. I don’t have a clear look at any signs of gender yet—they seem to not want to cooperate—but how did you want me to mark the file? Did you want to wait, or did you want to know as soon as possible?” 

Jake turned to you immediately as you slowly moved your head to meet his gaze. The two of you had a silent staring contest. You didn't even think that it was going to be an option to find out the gender at this appointment. You had mentioned it in passing, but Jake never commented on it.

“It’s your call,” Jake stated, nodding slowly. “I’m fine either way.” 

You nodded slowly before turning back to the obstetrician, who was typing away at your chart. After a moment of thought and another glance over at Jake, you made your decision.

“We’ll wait, please. Maybe for the birth or maybe at a later date,” you replied softly.

“Well, feel free to tell me at every appointment either way. Or you can call the office too, if you change your mind,” the obstetrician assured you with a supportive smile. “And did you want any photos of the ultrasound from today?”

“Please,” you answered immediately.

“How many copies?”

“Two, please,” you replied, glancing over at Jake. 

Dr. Jennings talked with you about your diet and exercise and your future appointments before she excused herself. Sitting up, you grabbed some paper towels from the patient cart and cleaned yourself up while Jake sat there a bit awkwardly. You got redressed, with Jake averting his eyes respectfully, before the two of you headed out of the examination room together.

“How are you feeling?” Jake asked softly, causing you to look at him.

“Well, it’s nice to know a little bit now,” you returned as Jake held the door open for you. “Not just a guessing game about if everything looks okay or not.” 

You made your way over to the patient window to make your next appointment and sign a few things. Jake lingered by the door, waiting patiently for you, when the father and daughter that he saw earlier in the waiting room walked past with a very pregnant woman. The three of them were all beaming with happiness that Jake couldn’t help but stare after them, wondering if you and him and your little baby would look like that one day--happy.

“Jake,” you called, causing him to snap his head around again. 

You smiled softly and held out a small square photo, which he took very carefully into his own grip. Holding the small photo in his hand, Jake just stood there and stared up at the little, tiny human that was half him and half you that was so impossibly small that he was afraid of even looking at the image for too long for fear of risking the baby's safety. 

“You okay?” you asked, finally bringing Jake out of his thoughts. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he assured you, picking his head up. “And you?”

“Better than I was a week ago,” you returned, giving him that smile that he could only describe as ‘glowing’ once again. “Are you sure that you’re good? You’ve been really spacey lately.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Jake promised you as the two of you walked out of the office. "I'm fine."

The two of you stepped out into the warm San Diego air as Jake carefully held the ultrasound photo in his hand. But staring down at the photo one more time, Jake turned to you with a more serious expression. 

“Are you still planning on telling Maverick soon?”

“I told him to come over to my place on Friday,” you explained, wrapping your arms around yourself. “I’m already into my second trimester. It’ll only get harder to hide and I would rather be able to tell everyone on my terms. Our terms.” 

“It’s your call,” Jake repeated, glancing around the parking lot as you came to a stop beside your car. “Your family, your rules.” 

“Thank you,” you returned, fiddling with your fingers. “Why don’t you come over around five? I told Maverick six, so that should give us some time to prepare and plan and take some breaths. He usually shows up late, anyways.” 

“I’ll see you Friday, then,” Jake replied, causing you to nod slowly. “Thank you for inviting me.” 

“Thank you for coming with me,” you returned, offering him another glowing smile. “Bye, Jake.” 

Jake watched you climb into your car before turning for his truck. As he climbed into the driver’s seat, you pulled out of the parking lot, heading back to your apartment. He watched you go before looking down at the ultrasound photo once again.

 Letting out a breath, he pressed his head back against the headrest before carefully placing the photo on the passenger’s seat. Starting his truck, Jake pulled out into the afternoon sun, trying to not get lost in his thoughts. For the thousandth time since he found out that he was going to be a father. 

~~~~~

You rushed around your apartment, cleaning and finishing up with the cooking. Jake came over to help you set up about an hour ago, but after you rearranged everything that he already did, Jake just decided to stay out of your way. You were very clearly on the edge of a mental breakdown, and he didn’t want to risk pushing you over the edge before Maverick even got there. 

“Are you sure that you don’t want to sit down for a bit?” Jake asked as you checked on the food cooking in the oven. “You’re going to put yourself out.”

“I’m fine,” you insisted, pulling the tray out of the oven. “Just a little nervous, that's all.”

Wiping your hands on a towel, you looked up when there was a knock at the door. Turning to Jake, you motioned for him to go and hide in your bedroom for a little bit. Adjusting your dress, which you bought purely because the pattern hid your figure very weel, you walked over to your front door. You took a final deep breath to calm yourself down before pulling the door open, revealing Maverick and Penny.

“Hey, Mav, Penny. Thanks for coming.”

“I’m not going to say ‘no’ to a home cooked meal,” Maverick replied, pulling you in for a hug in greeting. You hugged him back tighter than usual, which caused Maverick to pause. Returning the squeeze, he asked, “You alright, honey?”

 “Yeah, of course,” you returned softly, peeling yourself away from him. “Come on in. Dinner’s all done.”

Maverick shared a look with Penny, who shrugged in response, before walking into your apartment. He moved towards the dining area and paused when he spotted four plates set out on the table. Penny moved to take her seat, but Maverick stayed standing, staring down the extra plate suspiciously. 

“Are Rooster or Emma joining us?”

“Uh, no,” you replied, carrying over some food to the table. “I actually have some news, Mav.”

“A boyfriend?” Maverick assumed, causing you to pause before nodding slowly. 

You and Jake hadn’t really put a label on your relationship. Not even after you found out about the baby. But even though you weren’t together romantically right now, he was definitely something. And honestly, he was already more committed than any of your previous boyfriends or flings.

“Well, where is he then?”

A set of slow footsteps caused Maverick to turn his head in time to see Jake walking towards him. Jake lacked his usual confidence, but he wasn’t exactly cowering to Maverick's gaze, even if he was sweating through his shirt a bit. A splash of surprise flashed across Maverick's expression before he steeled it once again.

“Sir,” Jake decided on, causing Maverick to raise an eyebrow. 

“Hangman,” Maverick returned evenly. He glanced between the two of you before finally turning to you. “So, how long has this been going on for?”

“A few months.”

“Alright,” Maverick responded calmly, moving to take his seat. He sat down beside Penny, shared a look with her, before turning to you again. “You still have beer here?”

Penny lightly smacked the back of her hand against Maverick’s chest, but Jake moved to collect a beer for Maverick. If only to have an excuse to leave the awkwardness for a moment. The four of you slowly sat down for dinner and Jake chose to forgo an alcoholic drink for himself to make your decision to not drink less obvious. Dinner was passed around as an awkward silence settled in the room.

“So, Hangman,” Maverick started off with, “what are your intentions with my goddaughter?”

“Mav. This isn't 1986."

"It's a fair question," Maverick defended himself.

“Well, I do see a future with her if that’s what you’re asking,” Jake ventured, being very careful with his words. 

“You’re serious about this relationship?”

“Very much so.”

You glanced nervously between Jake and Maverick as Maverick seemed to stare Jake down for a moment. Mav reached for his beer, took a sip, and then turned back to his plate, as if it was a casual conversation. 

“Well, I will not sugarcoat my opinion that I think dating one of your brother’s teammates is not a good idea,” Maverick told you, causing you to wince. “It can get complicated quickly and even more messy.”

“We know, Mav,” you replied quietly. 

“And quite honestly Hangman, you were not my first choice.”

“I figured,” Hangman stated, nodding slowly. 

“You weren’t even on the list.”

“Mav,” you interjected to Jake’s defense. "You don't have to be rude to him about it."

“That being said,” Maverick replied, getting the conversation back on track, “if you’re happy, that’s all that I care about.”

“Yeah, of course I am,” you responded defensively.

Maverick looked up from his plate, staring you down with a concerned expression. Looking away from him, you smoothed your hands down your thighs, trying to not let your nerves show. Apparently, your words weren't convincing enough for Maverick.  

“Are you?” he repeated softly. 

“I have something else to tell you, Mav,” you admitted after a moment, voice barely above a whisper. 

Maverick glanced suspiciously and with an underlying threatening glare over at Jake before turning back to you for your explanation. You summoned your courage and pushed down your anxiety before finally letting out your secret. 

 “I’m pregnant.”

Maverick immediately dropped his fork onto his plate, causing a loud clattering noise to echo around your apartment. You winced at the noise and sunk a bit farther in your seat. Jake reached over and grabbed your hand under the table, offering you a reassuring squeeze, but you were frozen, staring at Maverick as you waited for the bomb to drop right on top of your dinner table. 

Penny turned to Maverick, resting her hand on his arm to try and ground him. He himself looked like he was having a momentary stroke at the news that you were pregnant. With Hangman's baby because you just had to give him a heart attack while he was already having a stroke.

Maverick’s first emotion was fear. 

Fear that it wasn’t what you wanted or that it would somehow lead to a situation that you would regret later on. One that he could have helped prevent in the first place, if he had been paying attention. Fear that something could go wrong or would go wrong and there wouldn’t be anything that he could do to help you. Carole had relatively easy pregnancies, but that didn't mean you would. Fear that you weren’t prepared for this because this baby was clearly unexpected and fear that you wouldn't be prepared when it finally came time for the baby to be born.

 And Maverick’s second emotion was anger. 

How could you be so reckless? He had Penny and Sarah give you the talk. He took you to the doctor to get you on birth control when you were seventeen at your request. Did you just forget to take the pill? Did condoms suddenly go off the shelves? It wasn’t like you were a dumb teenager anymore. And of all the guys to knock you up, it had to be Hangman? Really? Hangman?

Maverick was also ready to launch over the table at the dumb, reckless pilot who just potentially ruined your life and certainly changed it forever. Because Hangman wasn’t a dumb teenager either. He knew what a condom was, and he should have used one. He should have carried his weight with that. And if Hangman even thought about running out on you and the baby, Maverick would set him straight. Personally. 

But when Maverick finally locked eyes with you again, his anger broke in an instant. 

He saw your fear. He saw your concern. There was nothing that he could say in that moment that you hadn’t already anticipated and stressed yourself out about. And him yelling at you and threatening Jake wasn’t going to solve the problem. It wasn’t going to solve anything. It was just going to make it worse.

Letting out a breath to release what was left of his anger, Maverick turned back to you with a calmer expression. Penny gave his arm a squeeze, feeling him calm down with time. 

“You’re healthy? Both you and the baby?” he stared off with.

“Yeah, we’re healthy,” you assured Mav, nodding slowly to confirm. 

“And you made this decision on your own? No one forced you to make this decision, right?” Maverick asked you seriously.

“Well, we didn’t plan this,” you replied, sharing a look with Jake, “but yes, I made this decision and Jake’s supportive of my decision, so we’re in this together now.”

“And you’re happy?” Maverick questioned you. 

“Once it’s all out in the open, I will be,” you replied honestly. "It's just a lot of anticipatory stress right now."

“Bradley doesn’t know?”

“No,” you stated softly. 

“Are you planning on telling him soon?”

“I was thinking hopefully this weekend or next weekend. I’m already farther along than I was expecting. I won’t be able to hide this news for too much longer.”

“How far along are you?”

“Fourteen weeks.”

“So, you’ve been to the doctor?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you have an ultrasound photo?”

Nodding slowly, you stood up from the table and tried to not let out a sob in relief. You moved to grab the ultrasound photo that you hid in your room, leaving Hangman alone with Maverick and Penny for the first time since you broke the news. Jake opened his mouth to speak, but Maverick raised a hand to stop him. 

“We will have a separate conversation later, Lieutenant," Maverick stated, quiet enough that you didn't hear him.

“Pete,” Penny sighed, turning to him. “He’s here and involved. It’s not like he’s a deadbeat.”

“Later,” Maverick repeated as you returned from your bedroom. 

You walked around the table and handed the ultrasound photo to Maverick, who took it carefully. You stood beside him, nervously fiddling with your fingers. There was still a chance that Maverick would show how upset he was, so you were still a little on edge. Maverick stared down at the photo, the reality of the situation hitting him all over again, before turning back to you. 

“Is it a boy or girl?”

“We don’t know yet. We wanted to wait.”

“Well, either way they’re beautiful.”

“Yeah, they are,” you replied, your shoulders shaking as tears slowly slipped out of your eyes. 

“Hey,” Maverick called softly, handing the photo to Penny before standing up and pulling you into a supportive hug. Tucking your head under his chin like he did when you were a little girl, Maverick assured you, “Hey, everything will be okay.”

“I was just so worried you’d be so pissed and disappointed in me,” you choked out, burying your face into Maverick’s shoulder. “That you’d tell me I was making the worst mistake of my life.”

“You know that there's nothing that would stop me from being there for you, right? You know that, right?”

“I know, Mav. I was just scared.”

“You shouldn’t stress yourself out over me. I’m always going to be here to support you.”

“Thanks, Mav.”

After you and Penny shared a tight hug as well, you made your way back to Jake’s side of the table and sat down. You wiped the lingering tears from your cheeks and shot Jake a small smile before turning back to Maverick and Penny.  

“So, have you discussed anything yet about the future? With each other?” Maverick asked, folding his hands in front of him.

“Like what?”

“Like what is your living situation going to look like?” Maverick started off with. “Are you both moving into Jake’s apartment? Are you getting a new place together?”

“Why didn’t you mention my apartment?” you asked, confused.

“Well, it’s not exactly a nice building for kids. And you don’t have a tub for the baby. And you know how I feel about your landlord."

“And your sink still leaks,” Jake added, causing you to shoot him a look. "And the elevator's broken half the time."

“And did the landlord ever fix that faulty wiring?” Maverick asked, causing you to narrow your eyes.

"So, you'll agree with him when it's convenient for you?" you questioned Maverick.

“My house is always open,” Maverick suggested, avoiding the question. You sighed and stared at him with an exasperated expression. “Bradley and Emma are moving out in two weeks and the spare bedroom can be all yours. And there’s room for Jake on the pullout couch in the living room.”

“I think what Pete is trying to say,” Penny cut in, shooting Maverick a look, “is that babies take up a lot of space and you don’t want to be worrying about home improvement projects while you have a newborn at home.”

“What about finances? Are you creating a joint account? Are you splitting it up piece by piece?" Maverick suggested, moving on down his list. "Are you getting married?”

“Mav,” you hissed, feeling some heat crawl up your neck at his question. "No, we're not getting married."

Maverick paused, tapping his fingers on the top of the table for a moment. He had an unreadable expression on his face, and it only made you concerned. Looking between the two of you, he turned first to Hangman. 

“What is she allergic to?” Maverick asked him. 

“Uh . . .” Jake stumbled a bit, “. . . shellfish?”

“Pollen,” Maverick corrected Jake before turning to you. “When’s his birthday?”

“October 27th?”

“21st,” Jake mumbled under his breath, causing you to wince. 

“What’s her blood type?” Jake didn’t answer immediately and looked a bit like a fish out of water, so Maverick turned straight back to you, “What’s his hometown?”

“Austin, Texas," you answered confidently.

“I was born in Austin but technically I grew up outside of it,” Jake replied, causing you to sigh. 

“Are you two even dating?” Maverick asked, looking between the two of you. "Do you even like each other?"

“Yes,” you both replied, causing Maverick to sigh and hold his head in his hands for a moment. 

“You two need to take some time and get to actually know one another. Forget about everyone else in this equation. If the two of you aren't strong, the whole thing falls apart.”

Picking his head up again, Maverick turned to Jake first.

“You need to know her medical information like the back of your hand. If something happens and she can’t advocate for herself, you need to be ready to give that information.”

Maverick turned to you next while Jake squirmed beside you.

“And you need to have full trust in him if you’re going to raise a kid together. If he's going to be in the delivery room with you. And how are you supposed to trust him if you don’t even know him?” Maverick leaned back in his seat and looked between the two of you, who both appeared like scolded children, before letting out a breath. Thinking over his words carefully, Maverick leaned forward a bit. 

“All that said, I will help you out however I can. But you two need to put in the work yourselves. This isn’t about you anymore. This is about your child. And the two of you need to start working together and having difficult conversations."

You and Jake slowly picked up your heads and shared a look before turning back to Maverick and nodding slowly. 

"And you need to tell your brother," Maverick told you, "becauase it's going to be worse if he finds out from anyone else."

"I know, Mav. I know."

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[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

All at Once, This is Enough

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader Setting: Alexandria (Whisperers Arc) Warnings: Descriptions of childbirth Summary: Baby Dixon is impatient, an experience you and Daryl will never forget. A/N: I actually love writing Daryl as a dad (or soon to be dad). I think I’ll continue this with little drabbles here and there, but for now, this is the last installment of And Baby Makes Three series

*Click here to be added to taglists.

The door flew inward and bounced off the wall from the force of Daryl’s boot, wood chips flying but it seemed to still be functional. He turned his body to shield you in case of any threats inside, but the one room cabin was empty save for some old, run down furniture. You curled in on yourself with a pained wince, clutching your rounded belly as the muscles tightened and rippled under your hands. 

“Tha’ ‘nother one?” Daryl asked, gently placing you on the decrepit couch, Dog lying obediently by your feet. You nodded, breathing through your mouth, slow and deeply. “‘Bout four minutes maybe.” He mumbled to himself. He had no way to time but Siddiq had told him to try. In a rush of movement, the archer tore the old sheets off the bed, sending dust up in a cloud. He glanced at you apologetically while digging the extra blankets out of the pack. You had stuffed the damn thing full, so he could only pray there were things that would be useful. 

“I’m sorry.” You sniffled when the pain ebbed away and you had a moment to relax. He was spreading a blanket over the mattress but stopped to look at you over his shoulder. 

“Wha’ fer?”

“I begged to come with you. Now, we’re here waiting for Siddiq and what if something goes wrong and Daryl, what if the baby… what if I…” You felt his hands on your face, not even realizing he had moved. 

“Hey, hey. Ev’rythin’ s’gonna be okay. He’ll be here soon. Okay?” 

Your eyes danced back and forth between his but you nodded and wrapped your fingers around his wrist, pulling his hand to your mouth. Your lips were so soft against his palm. He smiled at you, small but genuine, and moved his hand so he could press a kiss to your mouth before going back to work on setting up what Siddiq said was needed. 

He made it two steps when he heard your breathing pick up and then a whine of his name. Glancing at you and then the bed, he came back and kissed your temple while gently lifting you. It had only been about three minutes since the last one. 

With the utmost care, he placed you on the mattress with the two pillows to prop you up. His poncho was draped over them to keep any dirt or dust away from you. 

“Daryl… it feels like…” You had begun to sweat, even in the freezing interior. There hadn’t been time for him to start a fire yet. 

Daryl took hold of your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. “Feels like wha’?”

“It burns.” You hissed. The archer felt his stomach flip and thought he might vomit. He had no idea what that meant or how to help you. 

He let go of your hand and patted the back of it before snatching up the radio. “Siddiq.” He heard the static and waited, driving his boot through an old coffee table. He had to start a fire. When there was no answer in the time it took him to break up enough pieces to burn, he pressed the button harder than necessary. “Siddiq!”

“I’m here, Daryl. Ran into some walkers. Tell me what's happening.”

“She’s hurtin’ ‘bout ev’ry three minutes now. Says it burns.” He could have cried when the flame caught so quickly. Jogging back over to you, he started unfolding the second of three blankets. They were small and not very thick but they would cover you and help with the chill. That would do for now. 

“Okay. Have you checked her to see if the baby is crowning?”

“Not a doctor, man.” 

“Right. Sorry. I need you to look and tell me what you see.”

Daryl felt dizzy. A part of you that he was so intimately familiar with now scared the living hell out of him. He was out of his depth, but he had no choice. You and the baby had to be okay. “Yeah…um, okay… hang on.” He dropped the radio at the foot of the bed and then placed the blanket next to your hip. “Hey, I, uh, need ta look at ya.”

“Help me get these off.” You seemed utterly unbothered, pulling at the soft elastic waistband of the jeans. With a nod, Daryl took over, pulling them and your panties down your legs once you had raised your hips. He tossed them aside and placed one knee on the bed.

“I don’ know wha’ ‘m doin’.” The archer whispered, voice trembling. 

“You’re just looking right now, Daryl.” You said between quickening breaths. When this one hit, your fingers dug into the blanket, twisting it, and you threw back your head with a scream. Daryl moved then, a hand on each of your knees, he separated them and reached behind him for the radio. 

“I…don’t even know how describe wha’m lookin’ at.”

“Try, Daryl.”

He lifted his other hand from your knee and wrenched your fingers from the blanket, letting you squeeze his hand instead. At least now, he didn’t feel completely useless. Now, he was staring at your poor vagina and trying to think of a way to describe what exactly was going on down there. 

“It, uh…it looks like half a peach with the pit still in it.”

“Shit.”

That did not inspire confidence. “Shit? Whaddaya mean shit?!” Looking up, the archer met your eyes, wide and terrified. He gave your hand a squeeze. This was all too insane and he knew if he thought about more than the here and the now, he would lose his goddamn mind. Here and now, you needed him. His baby needed him. He couldn’t think past that. 

“I think the baby is crowning.”

“Th’fuck that mean?” 

“It means that your baby is going to be born before I can get to you.”

His heart was pounding furiously, his chest literally hurt with each beat. You were looking at him, mirroring the terror he knew was showing naked on his face. His hand trembled as he pressed the button on the radio. 

“Tell me wha’ ta do.” 

“Daryl.” You cried, barely able to catch your breath while the grip on his hand tightened. 

“I know, Sunshine.” The radio remained silent other than static. “Siddiq?” You were repositioning yourself as best you could while refusing to let go of him. “M’gonna kill ‘im.”

“Yeah, do that, but first…could you maybe catch our baby?”

“Wait… wait, wha’?”

You could feel another contraction coming, leaving you very little time to speak. “I helped with Hershel and with RJ. I can do this. Just… don’t pass out.” With a deep breath during the first spasm of the next contraction, you pushed, teeth clenched with a scream brewing behind them. 

“Won’ pass out.” He wasn’t very sure of himself but he couldn’t let you down. It wasn’t an option. Daryl moved to the area just below your feet, holding your knees to give you some kind of grounding connection. He was supposed to say something, right? Encourage you? It felt like the right thing to do. You’d surely tell him to shut up if it wasn’t. “Ya, uh… ya got this.”

You fell back, feeling like you got absolutely nowhere. It still burned and the pressure was incredible. “Fuck. Ow.”

Daryl’s thumb swiped back and forth over your kneecap. “Wha’ can I do? Whaddaya need?”

“I need this baby out of me!” You panted, your fingers flexing in the blanket. 

“Well, tha’s the endgame, Sunshine.” 

You were making a conscious effort to not end up like the women in movies. All “I hate you” and “you did this to me,” especially when Daryl was looking at you with an expression somewhere between worry and that he thought you hung the moon. You couldn’t imagine yelling at him during the most important event of your lives. 

Then the next contraction came and it was time to push. Maybe yelling at him would make this easier somehow. It didn’t matter because the pain was unbearable and you couldn’t form words if you tried. 

“Yer doin’ great. Holy shit, baby’s right there!”

You wanted to ask questions as you sagged against the pillows, feeling like you got no reprieve before you’re sitting up again to push. Daryl was talking, encouraging you and squeezing your knees until he wasn’t. You had enough conscious thought to miss the contact but then you were being torn in half. You screamed, the pain white hot and new and then the most intense relief that you had ever known. 

That angry wailing was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard. 

You did it.

Panting hard, near gasping, you looked at Daryl. His eyes were wide and shining, his arms moving to wrap the little bundle in a blanket. He looked so adorably alarmed and lost that you would have given anything to wrap both him and the baby up and hold them. 

“There’s a…uh,” he lifted the cord that was still attached and you remembered there was still work to be done but your body knew what to do. Right then, you just wanted to see this little person that you and Daryl created. 

“It’s okay. Just leave it.” You reached toward him and he automatically offered up the newborn while a tear rolled down his cheek. 

“S’a boy.” Daryl said quietly while you positioned your son close to your chest. Offering up a nipple while careful not to pull against the cord, you were surprised at how easily he latched on.

“Wow, hungry little guy. Definitely yours.” You smiled up at the archer to find him still looking awestruck. “You’re a daddy.” He nodded carefully while moving to sit beside you, blue eyes flickering between you and the baby. “He looks just like you too.”

“Poor kid.” With slow, gentle movements, Daryl brushed a finger over the baby’s soft, light hair before pressing a kiss to your temple. “Yer amazin’.”

“I bet you say that to all your baby mamas.”

“Stop.”

Daryl did not, in fact, kill Siddiq.

Baby Dixon was now a week old. You and Daryl had settled into a routine of such domestication that you could almost forget the dead walked outside the walls. He had turned over anything that needed done around the community to someone else, aside from hunting. He made sure Carol and Michonne were there to help you when he had to go out. People had to be fed and it was winter. It was the one job he couldn’t ignore. 

Your eyes opened to the moonlight peering through the window. You propped yourself up on your arms and looked around the room. The other side of the bed and the bassinet were empty. You were alone. 

That meant there was only one place Daryl could be. 

When you pushed open the nursery door, you found your archer sitting in the rocking chair with your son tucked in the crook of his elbow, talking softly. 

“Yer uncle Merle was a real sumbitch but he’da loved ya. Well, after he told me wha’ a pussy I was fer settlin’ down with yer mama.”

“Language.” You whispered around a smile. 

Daryl didn’t seem surprised to see you there. “He was fussin’ n’ he only ate a hour ago. Didn’ wanna wake ya so we came in here. M’sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You walked over and brushed back the archer’s hair before leaning on the back of the chair to gaze at your son. The baby was staring intently between the both of you, gurgling and cooing around his fingers. 

“He likes stories.” Daryl informed you, never looking away from the tiny bundle. “Keeps ‘im from squaling when he gets changed if I tell him somethin’ new.”

“We should name him soon.” 

“Yeah. Lil’ bean ain’t what I wanna saddle the poor kid with.”

You chuckled. “You called Judith lil’ asskicker.”

“Kid eventually got a name.” Daryl stood carefully, holding the baby in one arm while the other reached for your hand. You laced your fingers through his and followed him back to your bedroom. With the baby in his bassinet, Dary wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into his side. He pressed a kiss to your temple. 

“I think I know what we could name him.”

“Yeah?”

You smiled up at him. “Yeah, I think so.”

Michonne moved around your kitchen, putting together plates for everyone. She and Carol would bring food over to make sure you and Daryl were eating while adjusting to being parents. Carol was snuggling the baby and pointing out which features belonged to Daryl and which were yours. 

“Definitely Daryl’s ears.” She laughed. 

“Wha’s wrong with my ears?” Daryl gave her a light kick on the ankle. 

“Nothing, Pookie. They’re adorable.” Carol smiled sweetly and Daryl flipped her off. You had all just sat down to eat when the hungry whimpers began. “I think this little guy wants his dinner too, mama.”

You accepted your son and sat down on the couch, sliding your arm through one sleeve so you could pull up your shirt without it continuously falling down while he tried to nurse. There was no need to cover up. It was just the five of you. Judith and RJ were at Aaron’s with Gracie. 

The baby latched on eagerly. “There you go, little bean.”

“You two ever gonna name him?” Michonne queried. You and Daryl exchanged a knowing look. 

“We already did.” The archer noted before sipping from his water glass. 

“Well, don’t keep us in suspense here!” Carol beamed, food forgotten. 

You smiled at Daryl and he nodded. “Well,” you began while stroking your baby’s cheek. “We’d like to formally introduce you to Merle Richard Dixon.”

Daryl kept his eyes on you but could feel Michonne looking at him. “Fer the brother I’s born with and fer the one that chose me.” 

The room went quiet save for the sounds of little Merle suckling away without a care. 

When Daryl saw you shift your gaze, he finally turned to Michonne. “Is, uh…is tha’ okay?” There were tears in her eyes with one escaping to travel down her cheek. 

After a moment, she smiled and nodded. “Yeah. I think he’d love that.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, watching relief wash over Daryl as well. You shifted Merle to sit upright on your lap with your hand under his chin while the other rubbed his back. “Then it’s settled.” There were smiles and nods shared before everyone went back to eating. 

And the baby let out a burp worthy of an adult man. 

“Yeah, Merle fits.” Carol teased. The air in the room was lighter with laughter and everything seemed perfect. At least for now, but you’d definitely take that. 

[attapullman]

Stupid White Car | Neighbor!Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: Pretty trees and cozy fire pit nights are all you expected when Robert mentioned wanting to landscape his backyard. And then the architect in the slutty white Benz shows up.

Word Count: 810

Warnings: none except sorry if your name is Alyssa 😬

A Note From Mo: The world's biggest shoutout to my favourite Bradshaw Baddie @roosterforme for coming up with this delicious idea and beta-ing this sake-written, jealousy-fueled oneshot for the neighbor!Bob anthology. Hope this satisfies everyone's appetite until Part III graces your screens.

The project was supposed to be done a week ago. No more white Mercedes in his driveway, no more lemonade on the back patio, no more mulch deliveries outside business hours. No more her.

When Robert announced he was finally landscaping his boring grass lawn while on leave, you had encouraged him. Dreams of sitting out there with him by a fire pit under some string lights danced before your eyes. But now you’re wishing he had kept his patchy lawn that turned into a mud pit at the slightest chance of rain.

Then she showed up.

You were working in your home office, deep into a spreadsheet, when you heard a female voice in the yard next door. Face pressed into the window, turning just so, a tiny postage stamp of his yard visible from your vantage point. Your sweet boyfriend walking around his desolate lawn, pointing out problems, while the most stunning woman followed him, smiling and nodding and jotting down notes. 

It should be illegal for him to look so good in faded jeans with grass stains. Or for her to pull off work boots so well. 

You missed your three o’clock meeting observing them from your hideout, having moved to the laundry room where you could see his yard better. Watched them sit at the little finicky table he needed to replace and go over pages in her catalog, pointing out the design features he liked and what she recommended. 

You didn’t know words like drip irrigation and concept plan could sound so…intimate.

Now it’s been weeks, and that annoying little car is always in his driveway. When she’s not “supervising” the subcontractor, she’s delivering supplies or needing to go over the plans one last time. The 15th has come and gone, and yet she’s still here. And you’re not sure whether it’s your imagination or not that her blouses suddenly have one less button done.

It’s a beautiful spring day outside, and you wish you were out there instead of holed up trying to make sense of this budget. The window is open to allow a soft breeze, tickling the skin not covered by your thin tshirt. An hour ago you shot Robert a text asking if he wanted to have dinner out tonight, try out that new bistro with the cute patio and enjoy the sunshine and some tiramisu. 

Maybe add in an evening walk along the beach? Ending with a night cap and him wrapped in your overstuffed comforter, enjoying his last night of leave blissfully unaware of the rest of the world.

Checking your quiet phone again, you settle down to your computer. And then you hear a perfect twinkle of a laugh. 

You abandon your computer and race down to the laundry, face pressed against the glass as emerald green jealousy licks along your skin.

No wonder you haven’t heard from Robert, his full attention is on his landscape architect as she has him choose between gravels for the stepping stones they’re finally installing. He’s brought out lemonade. Innocent blue eyes trained on her and laughing good-naturedly as she makes a joke about mortar. A joke a little too sultry for your taste.

You didn’t even hear her car pull in. When you talked to him last night he acted like all decisions had been made, one more full day of work and his backyard would be summer ready. It’s not a surprise she has weaseled herself into another visit.

Their hands accidentally brush as they flip between sample pages. Your entire being is rigid, the world in front of you an ominous red. How dare she touch what’s yours!

Before reasoning can interfere, you’re slipping on sandals and racing to the back fence. Pupils wild, heart racing, the green-eyed monster hot on your heels. 

The latch on his fence, newly installed, nearly pulverized in your jealousy-fueled mission. The gate swings open and there they sit, too close for your liking, her manicured fingers gliding along his forearm as she explains costs. 

Robert stands from his chair, shock and surprise written all over his face. He’s never seen this look in your eyes, this possession written all over your features. The woman raises her eyebrows to you, mildly shocked, mildly irritated you’ve interrupted her meeting with her favorite client.

“Alyssa, this is my, uh, neighbor next door…” he trails off awkwardly, realizing he’s never had to introduce you since that fateful night in your kitchen.

You see her smirk. Her revealing blouse. Her eyes that pity you. And from the corner of your eye, you see that stupid white Mercedes.

Rounding the rickety table, Robert’s eyes are filled with nothing but affection. A gentle reminder that she’s had his time, but you have his heart.

Your shoulders relax, returning her smug smile as you complete his sentence. “Neighbor…and girlfriend.”

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[lotus-n-l0ve]

HIS TRANQUIL EMBRACE

— Geto Suguru x Female Reader

I Found My Forever Home In Your Soothing Arms.

*⁠.⁠✧ SYNOPSIS : When late at night you don't find your husband beside you. You go out to find him only to find him in the office.

*⁠.⁠✧ WARNINGS & TAGS : Husband!Suguru, wife!reader, workaholic!Suguru, mention of abuse, late night talk, peaks, cuddling, 1.2k words.

*⁠.⁠✧ — NAVIGATION // JUJUTSU KAISEN MASTERLIST

DO NOT PRESS [READ MORE] IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE. MINORS DNI, IF YOU DO THEN IT'S YOUR OWN RESPONSIBILITY.

Your feet padded on the floor as you made your way through the dark and gloomy hall. Drowsiness, heavy on your eyelids. In the middle of the night, your sleep broke due to the need to use the washroom.

When you were done, you noticed the empty side of the bed where Suguru was supposed to be. The bed sheet on his side was perfect and wrinkle free, meaning he has not come back to bed. You shook your head in disbelief. That workaholic of a husband of yours. But there is always a limit as to when to take a break.

You stopped in front of a wooden door, gold work carved into it. You raised a hand to knock but then changed your mind, instead you twisted the golden door handle and pushed the door open, walking inside.

The room was mostly dark, only a table lamp lighting up the room. Your husband sat behind the table, a file opened in his hand. A pair of spectacles resting on the bridge of his nose. He looked like a man straight out of romance novels. Suguru averted his eyes from the white sheets when he heard the door open only to be greeted with the adorable view of his sleepy wife trudging towards him, the long night gown dragging on the floor.

Suguru's eyes narrowed as he put the red file on the table, "Why are you up this late, Sweetheart?"

You didn't bother answering. You just slipped between his hands, dropping yourself on his lap and settling on. Your legs dangled on one side while you wrapped your arms around his torso, snuggling into his warm and strong chest. Suguru couldn't help but snort. You looked like a baby snuggling in his chest.

"How long are you going to work? Did you forget that you have a wife?" You mumbled, your fingers playing with his shirt's button.

"Just a little more." He ran a hand on your arm and placed a kiss on your forehead, "Why don't you go back and I'll join you as soon as I'm done?"

"No, thank you. I'm way too comfortable to move now." Your hands wrapped around his firm torso.

You closed your eyes, ear pressed on his chest as you concentrated on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Suguru let you be and picked up the file again. His father had given him the responsibility of a big project and Suguru definitely did not want to let his father down.

Silence filled in the room, only the occasional noise and page flipping. You tried to go back to the dreamland but instead you were led back to the nightmare. It was the time when Suguru was yet to appear in your life. Those gloomy days when you were barely surviving.

You have never known who your father was. He walked out of your and your mother's life eight months into the pregnancy. Soon after your mother fell into the dangerous trap of drugs. You were mostly raised by a grandma in the neighbourhood. She tried to save you from your mother's clutch as much as she could but soon enough she passed away, leaving you unprotected under your mother.

She would bring home different men everyday to hook up, to forget all her sorrow in sex. She didn't care if you saw doing the act or not. She always blamed you for her misfortune. To her, you were the reason her husband left her. He didn't find her beautiful after her belly grew. You were the bane of her life.

All the household work was left on your shoulder. The little money she made by hooking up was mostly spent on her drugs, whatever she gave you was not even enough for a bread. Often days you went to sleep with an empty stomach along with the beating from your mother. You were, after all, her anger venting machine.

You silently endured the abuse, physical as well as mental. After you turned fifteen, you ran away from home and moved to Kyoto. There you rented a one studio apartment with some money you had saved and got yourself multiple jobs to support yourself.

You completed your studies and started working in the infamous company, 'Iazami', as an intern. Years later, when you were twenty one, your life came to a stable position. In the company you met Suguru for the first time.

You knew him, everyone who used the internet knew him. He was the oldest son of the Geto family. 'Izami', founded by Akira Geto, dominated the hospitality industry. The company is now led by Suguru.

You first met him when he needed someone to fill in for his secretary and your HR recommended you for that position. You were nervous, working directly under the President put a ton of pressure on you. Suguru was professional. He liked things being done perfectly and on time. He knew when to be stern and not.

Soon you got to know the soft man under the disguise of a stern boss. You worked as his temporary secretary for one month and that one month was enough to make you fall for that man. You two developed a special bond, a bond, you knew, was not a simple boss and employee one.

After you transferred back to your previous position, you thought that everything had ended. Your story ended before it could even began. After all, what could happen between a billionaire, someone who literally owns the country and a simple intern. But you were quickly proven wrong.

The next day you found yourself face to face with Suguru. His hand held out for you as he uttered those words 'Will you go on a date with me, Y/N?'

Life after that felt like a tornado. Your lonely days were replaced with fun times with Suguru. Your bland dinner was replaced with cooking with him, going on dates, late night cuddles. Everything felt so ethereal that you worried it was all just a dream but Suguru made sure that you knew it was very much real.

You dated for three years and now you were married for two. The nightmares that haunted your nights before were overshadowed with Suguru's love.

You blinked your eyes, the sleepiness that you were feeling had now vanished with the thoughts of the past. Your head lifted to rest on the crook of his neck.

"Suguru?" You called him, your low voice appearing loud over the dead silence of the night.

Suguru hummed, one hand reaching to run it through your tangled hair. You smiled, almost like a drunk one.

"Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

Suguru chuckled, "Are you trying to get me to go to bed?"

"No…………. Is it working?"

"Yep, definitely working." Suguru closed the file, abandoning it on the table as he picked you up in his arms, "Let's go and get your beauty sleep."

He looked down when you didn't reply, only to see you already asleep. You snuggled in his chest again and this time you finally reached the dreamland instead of the nightmares because you knew this time Suguru was here to protect you from any harm. You found your forever home in his soothing arms.

© 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐔𝐒-𝐍-𝐋𝟎𝐕𝐄 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑, 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 — all content rights belongs to LOTUS-N-L0VE. do not plagiarise any works and do not repost or translate onto any other sites.

All the rights and credits of the characters, gifs, songs and pictures used here belongs to their rightful owners.

[zhounauts]

OPPOSITE GENDERED FRIENDS? lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıılıı.lllııılı. based on the web drama. . . "the allowed female friend" k.gyuvinx f!reader warnings; jealousy (?) fluff & comedy wc 1.95k

“FEMALE FRIENDS. . .?” you ask, taking another bite out of your noodles.

“yeah,” gyuvin answers, taking a sip of his drink, “just in case you, y’know. . .care,”

“why would i? do you have a lot or something?” you laugh, “i have plenty of guy friends, you don’t care about that right?”. gyuvin shakes his head.

“i have a couple female friends to, and just like you. why would i care? they’re just your friends after all,”

“right! just friends,” you answer excitedly, “it’s crazy how so many people make such a big deal out of it. i mean of course if they’re an ex i get it, but if it’s just a friend from the opposite gender. . .” you sip your water.

“exactly, people who get upset over their boyfriends or girlfriends having opposite gendered friends just don’t—”

“have trust! they’re letting fear get to them!” you finish. gyuvin smiles widely, reaching across the table to playfully give you a high-five.

“i think we might just be made for eachother”

gyuvin holds onto your hand, leading you down the street, as you, without a clue, follow him. you aren’t quite sure where you’re going, but you accept the surprise date and put your trust into gyuvin. yet, you can’t help your curiosity as gyuvin leads you down a smaller, less populated road filled with small shops.

“here,” he stops, standing in front of a small restaurant. he lets go of your hand, doing a little, dorky ta-da before taking your hand again. “this is one of my favorite spots,”

“it’s so cute!” you exclaim, entering the restaurant, “i like it. it’s so intimate,”

“i know right? iseul introduced me tot his place,” he says, “she’s one of my friends, gunwook knows her,”

“ooo, she’s got good taste,” you say. the two of you stand at the entrance, waiting for a waitress to come seat you two. as you wait, you watch as gyuvin snaps a picture of the place, before quickly typing something into his phone. you peek over his shoulder, watching as he sends it to someone. seulie. . .? you think to yourself, you flick your eyes between gyuvin and back to the contact name before shaking it off and greeting the approaching waitress.

“and then do you know what he—”

“oh shoot, sorry,” gyuvin mutters, reaching towards his ringing phone.

“no, no,” you beckon, “go pick up,” he nods, and presses the green accept button. a female voice rings out.

“yah gyuvin! how could you go without me??” she whines, “you must look stupid right now, sitting all alone,”

“i’m not alone iseul,” gyuvin laughs, “i’m with my girlfriend right now,”. gyuvin looks towards you, motioning you to say hi.

“hi! i’m yn,” you greet.

“hiii!” she exclaims, “hope you’re enjoying the food!”

”we are, you’ve got good taste,” you answer.

“of course i do!” she jokes, “oh also, gyuvin, are you coming later tonight or what? don’t be a party pooper and ditch,” you listen in, before your own phone lights up with a message. you grab your phone to read the message, and promptly answer.

“you’re going out tonight right?”

“yeah,” gyuvin answers, “why?”

“i’m going out as well,”

“oh really?” he asks, “with who?”

“a close friend,” you say, “they’re back in korea for break,”

“what are you waiting for? go!” he says, “i’m going out with my friends as well anyways,”

“right,” you answer, giving him a peck on the cheek. “let’s both have fun tonight!”

your date continues, the two of you exchanging animated stories, laughing and giggling with one another. yet, one thing you can’t ignore is the constant buzzing of his phone, and you watch as the same groupchat name lights up over and over again. you furrow your brow.

“you’re dating someone?” eric asks, flipping the pork belly on the grill.

“yeah,” you answer, sipping your coke.

“so. . .he’s okay with us hanging out alone together?” he questions.

“yep,” you say happily, watching the barbecue in front of you.

“wow, he sounds cool,” eric laughs.

“we’re just having trust in one another,” you say simply, “what’s a relationship without trust?”

”pft,” he laughs, “have you gotten wiser as well dating him?” it goes silent between the two of you, only the sizzling of the grill in front of you being heard. “hey, pork’s ready,” you reach your plate out eagerly, smiling as eric cuts up pieces for you. he laughs suddenly.

“you’re cute,”

“what?”

“not like that man,” he says, “like a little sister,” you stare at him unimpressed, shaking your head.

“whatever, let’s dig in already! i'm starving,"

you walk out of the restaurant with eric, shoulder to shoulder, stomach hurting from all the laughing. “stop it!” you gasp through giggles, slapping him on the shoulder. he laughs with you, leaning into your shoulder.

“yn!” you hear, you wipe tears away from your eyes, to see gyuvin standing underneath the street light near the store next door.

“gyuvin!” you exclaim. you turn towards eric, pulling him in for a quick hug goodbye. “let’s meet up another time again,” you say, nudging his shoulder.

“of course,” he answers, giving you a fist bump. you smile one last time at him, before bounding over to your boyfriend. gyuvin wraps an arm around you, as you snuggle into him.

“is that your close friend?”

”yeah, that’s eric,” you answer.

“i didn’t know you were hanging out with a guy,” gyuvin says aimlessly.

“he’s a great guy,” you tell him, “you’re not jealous are you?”

“jealous?” gyuvin gasps, pulling away from you, “you know me yn, how could i be jealous? also who in their right mind would cheat on me of all people?”

you shake your head jokingly at your boyfriend’s big, fat ego.

“just joking, i trust you yn,” he says, “trust is the most important thing!” you smile again, snuggling closer into him. his phone rings, and when he picks up, iseul’s voice rings out.

“ughhh gyuvinnn!” she whines, “why’d you leave so early?”

”i was picking up my girlfriend iseul,” he answers.

“well take her home then come back! i’m expecting you to not disappoint me and the others! come back soon, okay?”

”alright, alright, i’ll come,”

you get back to your house exhausted,. after you had bid gyuvin good night, you showered immediately, and then plopped onto your bed. you pick up your phone from the side table, seeing a new message from gyuvin.

gyu 😼 i’m gonna stay for a bit only, i’ll be back soon

stay however long you want! have fun with your friends!!

♥

you close out of messages, sighing, and then open instagram. you see that gyuvin’s updated his story, his icon appearing first. you click on it, seeing a video from only a couple hours ago when you were still with eric. the phone swivels around the table, revealing gunwook and junhyeon who you recognize and then a group of girls you don't know. he has a lot of female friends doesn’t he?

you shake it off, clicking on the tagged people on the stories. with that, you enter a rabbit hole, going through profile after profile, and iseul's catches your eye the most.

it's filled with pictures of your boyfriend, at restaurants, cafes, amusement parks, and even an arcade. you furrow your brows, as a story pops up from her. you click it fast, maybe too fast, but you don’t care as it opens to show another video of your boyfriend sandwiched between gunwook and iseul, who’s awfully close to him. you can’t help but frown slightly, before shaking it off once again.

what the hell? trust, yn, trust

the next day, you wake up to a flurry of texts from gyuvin, leaving you smiling. you answer every single one of them, and he responds quickly, the two of you agreeing to meet up at the park. yet, when you arrive at the park, the thing you don't expect is to see gyuvin talking to someone else. a girl. iseul.

“gyuvin!” you exclaim, speeding up. he turns around, a wide smile adorning his face as he sees you. you hug him, before turning to the girl in front of him.

“ah, this is iseul,” gyuvin says, “iseul, this is my girlfriend, yn,”

“nice to meet you!” you say cheerily, or atleast you try to sound like it. she smiles back.

“you’re so pretty! so you’re the girl gyuvin’s been ditching us for,” she jokes. yet, it leaves a slightly bad taste in your mouth that you can’t explain.

“you to!” you answer, “i love your nails,”

“well, i’m glad you two got to meet each other,” gyuvin interrupts, “but we’ve got a date to—”

“there’s something in your hair,” you say, pointing to iseul. she reaches to her hair, patting the wrong spot.

“oh, wrong spot,” gyuvin says, tousling her hair for her, removing the leaf. you can’t help but freeze, watching it. words were one thing, but physical touch was a whole other thing. “it’s gone now, but like i said. we gotta go, see you later!” iseul waves at the two of you, giving you a small smile which you return, before you turn around to leave.

it’s silent between you and gyuvin, as you sit at a table in the corner of the cafe. two of you share a cheesecake in front of you, as you sip your mocha.

“you’re meeting iseul later?”

“i’m helping her move some stuff,” he answers.

“oh,” you say.

“you okay with it?” he asks, taking another bite of the cheesecake, “this is so good,”. you don’t answer, only zoning out. “yn?” you give him an apologetic smile, picking up your own fork to take a bite of the cake.

“are you okay?” he asks, setting his drink down.

“well. . .” you start, “do you really have to go?”

“what?’ he asks, surprise evident.

“nevermind, that was silly—”

”do you not want me to?”

“. . .” you stop, taking a sip of your drink once again. you don’t want to come off as possessive, yet the thought of gyuvin being alone with only her, and at her house of all places bothered you. you couldn’t deny your jealousy any longer, and you shake your head, “it’s you two alone. . .and at her house. . .” you trail off.

“you ate out with that guy alone,” he says suddenly.

“what?”

”eric or whatever his name was. . .” gyuvin mutters, twirling his fork.

“you have her contact as seulie, and she’s pretty,” you bring up.

“he was good looking as well,” gyuvin retorts.

“you were fine when you picked me up and saw him?”

”i wasn’t,” he confesses simply. the two of you blink at each other owlishly, “i was just pretending,”

“you were. . .pretending?”

“you didn’t know?” you shake your head.

“you’re a good actor,”

“thanks,” he says, “you to,”

“thanks,” it goes silent between the two of you once again, the both of you simultaneously taking sips out of your respective drinks.

“how about we do this,” gyuvin says, putting his cup down, “if you don’t see him, i won’t see her,”.

“completely?”

”what do you want?”

”I don’t like you seeing her,”

“then i won’t,”

“okay,”

“sounds good, yeah,”

“yep,” the two of you nod assertively, before dapping each other up in agreement. gyuvin grabs his phone.

“i’m cancelling with her right now,”

“me to,” you answer, texting eric. the two of you put your phones down in sync, and then nod again. then the two of you dap each other up again.

“i feel like we should stop doing that,”

“yep,”

“yep,”

networks: @a-dream-bookmark @zumblrnet

a/n my hells kitchen phase has ended, and now have fallen into a rabbit hole of korean and chinese web dramas. . .i saw this one and i thought of writhing it for gyuvin, hope you enjoy !!

[coldfanbou]

Maid Life

Day 13 with a Maid Monday.

Length 1.8K

Monday x Mreader

“You’re on.” A bet was made between you and Monday. You both smirk, confident that you’ll win. The game was blackjack; the robot between the two of you shot out two cards for each of you before shooting out two for itself. You check your cards with two aces; you feel a little worried. You glance at Monday; she has a giant smirk on her face. You reach over to the robot’s card and flip one card; it’s a six. You press the button to get another card, and it’s a seven. You internally curse your bad luck. Monday decides to stay her hand and not get another card, making you worry. You hit again, praying to get a low number, or you’d go bust. A card slides across the table toward you. You hold it against the table and lift an edge up; it’s a four.

Adding up your cards, you have twenty-one. You glance at Monday; she still has the biggest smirk on her face. Her hand hovers above the robot. “Ready?” You give her a nod, and she moves toward the robot’s cards, flipping the other card to reveal a king card. The dealer is done, and you both show you’re hands. Monday’s smirk disappears as she counts your cards. She throws her cards onto the table before throwing herself onto it. “No way!” She complains as she smacks the table. Monday had an ace and nine, leaving her at twenty. You shoot up out of your chair, reveling in your victory.

“Haha! You’re mine for a day!” You pull Monday onto your lap. “I wonder what I should have you do?” You say mockingly. At that moment, an idea pops into your mind. “I have just the thing.” You move Monday off, leaving her confused until you return with a skimpy maid outfit. “You’re my personal maid and cum dump for a day.” Monday lets herself fall to the floor as she begins whining.

“Why do you even have that?!” She says, kicking her feet against the floor. You laugh at her, knowing that she would still agree and eventually come to enjoy it. Knowing Monday well was a perk of being friends with her since you were kids. 

“Oh, shut up. You knew what would happen when you agreed.” You reply before tossing the outfit on her. “I’ll make a list of things I want for tomorrow.” You smirk, watching her act so pitifully. Monday stays on the floor as you leave the room.

The following morning, you wake up and walk toward the kitchen. You spot Monday wearing nothing but an apron as she looks through the fridge. You pull down your pants and sneak up behind her, staring at her unsuspecting form. Once you’re close enough, you place one hand on her back, keeping her bent over while you align yourself with her slit. “Hey! What are you doing?” She shouts at you.

“I’m going to use my favorite maid, of course.” You say as you push your cock inside her. Monday holds onto the sides of the fridge, annoyed that she has to follow along. She bites her bottom lip, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of making her moan. Your cocks fit snuggly inside Monday, her walls spreading apart for you as you push more inside. Your hand slithers under the apron from the side and massages her modest tits as you remain buried inside Monday. “I love your outfit. I’m glad you chose not to dirty your uniform.” Monday wants to tell you to shut up but knows that if she opened her mouth, the first thing to come out would be a moan. You drag your cock out of Monday slowly, her walls gripping onto your shaft. You ram yourself back inside, causing her to lurch forward. Monday bites down harder, making her bleed. As you begin thrusting, you squeeze her tits, her soft mounds feeling good in your hand. Monday still refuses to let you know how you’re making her feel, and you know as much. You move your other hand to her clit, moving it in circles slowly. 

“Aah,” Monday moans, finally letting her voice out. You smirk, satisfied that you got a noise from her. You begin thrusting faster, impaling Monday with your cock. As her walls coat your cock in her juices, you’re able to move more freely, and you take advantage of that. Monday tries to cover her mouth, but it becomes too late for that. You grab her hands and pull them back. Her ass presses against your crotch as you drive your cock deeper into her cunt, “You’re so deep,” She groans. Her body begins to move on its own; Monday pushes her ass back as you thrust forward. You begin to near an orgasm and slam your hips against Monday. She begins to moan louder; her walls clamp down on your cock. Their grip makes it a little hard to pull out but much easier to bury yourself inside her. 

Grabbing onto her waist, you ready yourself. “Monday, I’m cumming. Take it all,” You groan loudly. She can’t say a word before you bury your cock inside her and fill her with your cum. Monday grips the sides of the fridge; her knuckles grow white as she goes through her orgasm. Her cunt milks you of your cum, greedily taking every drop you deposit. You pull out slowly, “Thanks, Monday. When’s breakfast going to be ready?” You ask, slapping her ass.

Monday struggles to stand up properly. She remains bent over with cum leaking out of her. “I’ll have it ready soon.” She replies. Monday whips up some eggs, not wanting to put in any effort. She serves you first and then herself; you stop her before she can begin eating. 

“Hey, Monday. I have a different kind of breakfast I want you to have.” Monday rolls her eyes. She knows exactly what you mean. She gets off her chair and settles in between your legs. Grasping your cum coated cock she places her lips on your head. Her small tongue moves around the tip, getting a taste for your cum. You tilt your head back and enjoy her warm mouth as she takes in more of your cock. As she reaches the halfway point, your cock grows hard in her mouth. Monday’s jaw extends to fit your size. Though she would never admit it, Monday starts to get into it. She bobs her head at a consistent pace while massaging your balls. Her tongue teases every part of your cock, from circling your shaft to swirling around the tip. Monday tastes your precum as her tongue runs over your tip. Her lips tighten around your cock as she focuses on trying to make you cum. You get into it, too. You push the back of her head forward until she reaches the base of your cock. Hearing her gag, you let her go for a moment; she coughs, but you push her back down before she can complain. You feel her throat tighten around you as she gags when you push her past a certain point. You’re so close, though, you ignore her hand as it slaps against your thigh. Thrusting your hips, you give Monday mere seconds to get a breath when you pull your cock back before it rams into the back of her throat. 

Feeling yourself about to cum, you slam your cock back into Monday’s throat and pour your cum down it directly into her stomach. Monday’s eyes roll into the back of her head as she’s forced to drink your cum. You moan again, reveling in the knowledge that you’ve gotten to cum in Monday twice already. You pull out and eat your breakfast before showering, leaving Monday alone. She remains kneeling on the floor, saliva running down her chin and onto her apron. She puts her hands around her throat, thinking about how you rammed your cock down it just seconds ago. She picks herself off the floor, holding onto the counter. She cleans her face off by the sink before sitting down to eat her food.

The day goes by with you occasionally using Monday’s body. She still tries to play it off as being uninterested, but you’ve felt her try to do more. Her uniform has slowly come further and further undone as the day progresses; as it becomes night, all that remains is the white part of her skirt and her headpiece. “I just want to sleep. I’m tired.” Monday says as she throws herself onto your bed. You walk in behind Monday and spread her legs slowly; her cunt still leaks cum. You stroke your cock until you’re stiff and lay on top of Monday. 

“Just think you can almost go back to being you.” You respond as you place your cock at her entrance. Monday spreads her lips apart, waiting for you to slide into her. You pat her head, “Good girl.” Following that, you ram your cock back into Monday’s abused pussy. You slam yourself into her; Monday groans as she feels your cock pierce her cunt.  As you slide in and out of Monday, you feel her try to tighten her pussy, contracting her muscles as you push in. “Look at you enjoying this.”

“Shut up.” Monday moans as you pound away at her cunt. She continues to tighten her cunt around you. “Fuck, I’m cumming.” She groans; Monday’s voice grows higher in pitch and comes quicker as she nears her climax. You slow your pace, making sure she can’t cum just yet. “Ah, come on, I was so close!” She yells while slapping the bed. 

“Beg.” 

“What?”

“Beg for my cock, beg for my cum.” You tell her.

“I-I…” Monday grows quiet; she musters her courage. “I want you to make me cum! I want your cock to fill up my tight pussy!” She shouts. You chuckle, knowing how much she hates herself for saying that. You start slamming into Monday again, driving your cock deep and quick. She moans loudly, and you feel her cunt tighten around you. She wasn’t trying to; this was her body naturally reaching the peak. Monday plants her head into the bed as she cums. Her walls are clenched around your cock; you continue moving, trying to hold on just that bit longer. You’re unable to and bury yourself inside Monday, filling her with cum one last time. 

You pull out and lay beside Monday. “So, how would you rate your master?”

“Zero out of Five.” She replies.

“Oh yeah. Why don’t we make another bet, then?”

“You’re on loser.” She retorts. “Let’s do it tomorrow, though; I feel a little sore.”

“I bet you are. My cock was just that good, huh? You couldn’t get enough.” Monday sighs and shakes her head. That was enough for the day. You and her rest beside each other and go to sleep soon enough.

[morganwrites12672]

1999 - Seventeen Years Old

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Working with the Winchester's to solve a case brings up old, unresolved feelings.

Word Count: 4.0k

Warnings: Blood. Canon typical violence. Dean being an absolute menace. Minor injury. A tiny bit of kissing.

A/N: This is the longest part yet! I hope you enjoy it! Also, you can read this without reading the rest of the series here: 𝕆𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕐𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤.

▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣

The old library computers were slow as hell. She passively sorted through the archives of newspapers from this town. She had begged her father to let her go out and do anything else, maybe even try and get some of the witnesses to talk, but he hadn't let her. No, he had made her go to the library.

Spending the entire day the library hadn't been something she wanted to do. Even if on any normal day she would be ecstatic. The library was a magical place to her, most of the time. Definitely not right now.

She has spent hours sitting in this stupid, uncomfortable chair. She had found nothing. Whatever spirit was killing people was well hidden in the records. No strange deaths had occured at the hotel where people had started dying in extremely. . . odd ways.

All of the victims had been stabbed to death while they slept. And, the people were all so different. Different ages, races, home towns, etc. So far, she hadn't been able to find a connection between the victims. Neither had Sam.

She pauses her search for a moment and looked over her shoulder. Dean was flipping through a more recent newspaper while sitting at one of the small tables. His feet were propped up on the table, he was leaning back in his chair.

She snapped her gaze back to the ancient computer in front of her. She still had a lot of work to do. She peeked over at Sam's screen. He hadn't found anything either.

"Anything?" She asked quietly, even though she already knew what the answer was.

Sam sighed and looked away from the computer screen glowing in front of him. "This is stupid! There has to be something," Sam said with a huff.

But, there wasn't. Not yet at least. She nodded and went back to scrolling through the archives. After several dozen key word searches (and another hour), she found something. She sat up straighter in her seat as she skimmed through the article. A woman who had been murdered while she slept, at the hotel. It looked like the hotel had tried getting this article buried.

She was about to say something, but she heard Dean's chair scrape across the floor. She didn't have to look back to see what he was doing. She could feel him hovering over her shoulder. Her breath caught in her throat at the proximity. She hadn't been this close to Dean since the apple orchard.

"Finally," Dean's deep, velvety voice murmured into her ear. "It only took you all night."

She abruptly turned around in her chair. Who was he to criticize how long it had taken her to finally find something? This had been a difficult case so far. She had been the one to finally find something, not Dean, Sam, her father, or John.

"You were supposed to be helping!" She snapped at Dean. She heard the sound of Sam shuffling in his seat and looked over. Sam had his backpack alung across his shoulder. He walked over to the table, escaping the argument.

Sam's reaction made her feel bad. She was about to say something to the younger Winchester brother whenever Dean opened his stupid mouth again.

"You and Sam are the eggheads," He said. Dean had his signature cocky smirk plastered on his face. His favorite thing in the world seemed to be pissing her off. There was nothing he loved more than seeing her like this, well that or pinning her against an apple tree.

She rolled her eyes as she began writing down the main details of the article she had found. She quickly pressed the 'print' button afterwards. She then gathered her things from the small surface area of the desk she had been working at. She was tired of dealing with Dean. There was no in-between with him. They were either all over each other or arguing.

Dean fumbled for words as he watched her leave. He watched as she stood by the large, noisy printer and waited on the documents she needed to finish printing. He hadn't been expecting that. Usually he would piss her off until she gave in and kissed him.

"Where are you going?" Dean asked, crossing the room in a few strides.

She sighed in annoyance as she yanked the freshly printed pages off the tray. She wasn't in the mood to exchange a few insults and snarky remarks with Dean. She was tired and anxious. This was one of the few hunts her father allowed her to come on. It was a recent thing too. Bobby was strict about letting her tag along, even if she was useful.

"Back to the motel."

"How?" Dean asked. "I drove you and Sammy here."

She looked back at him, "I'm walking back."

Her words made a brief sense of panic seize Dean's chest. The thought of her walking back to the hotel, alone, and in the middle of the night made his blood run cold. Maybe he needed to stop being such a dick for a few minutes.

"No, I'll just drive you."

"No," She snapped. She didn't want to spend fifteen minutes in a car with him right now. However, the long walk back to the hotel didn't sound all that appealing. She didn't say that to Dean.

"Son of a bitch," Dean muttered. "No- wait." He let out a huff. "Just let me drive you. Your dad will shoot me for letting you walk home in the middle of the night." Dean used Bobby as an excuse for a reason to drive her home. He didn't want to have a rom-com moment with her in front of Sam.

She begrudgingly agreed with a sigh.

While she had been arguing with Dean, Sam has finished packing everything else up. He was ready to get back to the hotel. Listening to the bickering of his brother and the girl his brother liked was annoying as hell whenever he was this tired. Normally he didn't mind it that much. It was obvious that the two idiots liked each other.

The drive back to the hotel felt like it was hours long. The soft hum of rock filled the car. Anytime she had tried changing the music in the last when driving with Dean, the older Winchester always replied with the same exact words; "Driver picks the music. Shotgun shuts their cakehole."

Once they finally arrived at the hotel, she practically jumped out of the car. She clutched the printed article in her hands as she walked through the parking lot. If her father was back yet then she could give him the information.

She had figured out almost everything they needed. She hadn't figured out where the body was buried though. It has been too late, she would leave that part up to her father. Bobby could probably dig it up in a measly hour. He was incredible at figuring things out quickly.

Whenever she finally made it to the hotels elevator, Dean and Sam had caught up with her. She wasn't surprised that Sam had. He was all long legs and wobbly steps. He reminded her of a baby deer sometimes.

She pressed the button for the floor before Dean could get to it. It wasn't often that she stayed at hotels when her father was off hunting. Motels were much cheaper, and that was were they always ended up. Getting to work a case at a hotel was like a vacation. Even if she felt out of place here.

The elevator came to a stop and she practically leaped out. She needed to get the papers to her father as soon as possible. She finally arrived at the room her father was staying in and knocked. Bobby and John had decided to stick the kids in one room together for this hunt, so she didn't have a key to her father's room.

"What do you Idjits want? It's two in the goddamn morning," Bobby grumbled. Seeing his daughter and the Winchester boys at the door to his room in the middle of the night was not pleasant. He was glad that he was the one who got up and not John.

"I think I figured out who the spirit is."

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It had only taken Bobby an hour to figure out where the woman was buried. While Bobby had been doing that, John had discovered the pattern between the victims. They all shared the same birthday, different years but the same month and day. Further investigation revealed that the woman who had been murdered also shared that birthday.

It didn't take her long to hack into the hotels records. She quickly found someone, the last someone, who matched the description.

The group was split up. Sam going with Bobby to salt and burn the bones, and she was with Dean and John to prevent the spirit from killing anyone else at the hotel. Bobby had argued like it was his last day on Earth for his daughter to take the safer route and go with him. Eventually, John had gotten Bobby to let her stay at the hotel.

She stood outside the soon to be victims door alone. John was handling something else, she had no clue what. And, Dean was gathering up iron weapons from the trunk of the Impala. She only had a rock salt shot gun and practically useless iron switch blade. She knocked on the door. It wouldn't get an less nerve wracking. She adjusted how the duffel bag crammed with bags of salt rested on her shoulder. It was heavy, twenty pounds of salt tended to be like that.

"Wrong room kid," A woman said as she opened the door.

"No, this isn't. This is going to sound insane, but I need you to trust me. Uh, there's been an issue with the pipes," She blurted out. She needed to get the woman to leave. Now.

The woman rolled her eyes. "Damn kids," she muttered and began closing the door. She thought that this girl was just trying to mess with her, completely oblivious to the serious threat to her life.

She mumbled a curse before sticking her foot in the door. The woman looked at her in shock. Before she could explain anything, or come up with some bullshit excuse, the lights began flickering. The usually warm hallways temperature seemed to drop them degrees in mere seconds. A chill ran down her spine.

Shit.

The spirit was already here. She wouldn't be able to get the woman out safely. She knew that her plan had been incredibly unrealistic to begin with. Things never went according to plan in this lifestyle. It just didn't happen.

"W-what the hell?" The woman said with a gasp.

"Move," She muttered to the woman and shoved last her into the hotel room. She dropped her bag and grabbed one of the salt bags. She quickly formed a circle. "Stand in it."

"You're fucking insane!" The woman shrieked and turned to leave. That was whenever she saw it.

The spirit knew what was happening. She wouldn't stand by idly while her bones were burned. The spirit let out a horrible wail, her ripped and bloodied dress flowing behind her, as she charged for the woman.

The kickback of the rifle left an ache in her shoulder as she shot the spirit. It screeched even louder before disappearing. She knew that this wouldn't last long. She quickly touched up the circle of salt.

"Oh my God! Oh my-"

"Get in the damn circle!"

The woman quickly jumped into the circle. She was clueless on what was happening. This was supposed to have been a nice little vacation, not a night of hell!

"What's your name?" She asked the scared woman in a softer voice even if she already knew the answer. She didn't want to freak the woman out anymore.

"S-Stacy. Stacy Jean," She stuttered out.

Stacy was wide eyed as she stood in the salt circle. She stared at the girl who had shot the ghost. It was weird as hell to her that someone so young was capable of so much.

"W-what was that thing?" Stacy asked.

She reloaded the rock salt shot gun before answering Stacy's question. There was no easy way to do this. Stacy had seen the spirit. She wouldn't be able to lie to the woman. It was better to come clean about what was going on.

"It's a vengeful Spirit," She said to Stacy.

Before either one of the two woman could say anything else, Dean burst through the door. He looked like he had ran straight here. Finally. Dealing with a pissed off ghost on her own had been unpleasant.

Stacy was in too much shock to do or say anything else. The woman simply stood in the circle, body trembling from fear.

She sighed, quickly reaching for the duffle bag that Dean had brought with him. She hoped that he had brought something useful.

"Took you long enough," She said under her breath as she sifted through the contents of the bag. She took the iron blade out and watched the way the dim lighting of the hotel room was reflected.

"I-" Dean's words were cut off as the lights began flickering again. "Shit!" The spirit reappeared after a couple of seconds, ready for a fight.

There wasn't any time to try shooting at it. She lunged with the blade. Before she could actually stab the spirit, the spirits blade nicked her arm. She hissed in pain before swinging her iron blade. The spirit let out a horrible shriek before vanishing again.

Everything had happened so fast. The seconds had blurred by. The only thing that grounded her back to the present moment was Dean's hand pressing against the small wound on her arm. His brows were knit together as he assessed her injury.

Something that closely resembled panic covered the features of his face. He moved his hand away, his fingers coming off covered in blood. Covered in her blood.

She was frozen in place as Dean darted across the room to get to the duffel bag he had brought. He quickly found the item he had been looking for, a small roll of bandages. He tore off a piece and approached her.

"This is gonna hurt," He said in an oddly gentle voice as he wrapped the bandage around her arm.

A whimper escaped past her lips whenever he tightened the bandage. It made tears sting her eyes. She swallowed thickly, trying to think about anything else.

Dean's jaw had clenched sometime since she had been injured. Her injury pained him almost as much as it did her. Every single time she'd draw in a sharp breath, or he'd catch the slight wobble in her lips, his heart broke. It felt like someone had ripped his chest open.

"There you go," Dean said, thankful that he was finally done. Her wound would still need to be cleaned out and properly bandaged later. This was just for until the Spirit was handled.

"T-thanks," She replied before clearing her throat. Her left arm now ached. It was more inconvenient than anything. She just wasn't used to having injuries like this. Her father rarely let her do anything that might result in one.

She held her iron blade, ready to take a shot at the spirit whenever she would reappear. Hopefully Bobby and Sam were able to find her bones, and quickly. She was buried out back, or at least that's what the article said. The small graveyard shouldn't be that hard to find.

"Why don't you go stand in the circle?" Dean asked her.

"Dean, I can-"

"I'll do it too."

She rolled her eyes but agreed. It was a bit of a tight fit. She stood in the circle with Dean and Stacy. The poor woman still looked completely terrified. Not that anyone could blame her. Finding out about the Supernatural was a horrible experience. Even more so whenever someone finds out while something's trying to kill them.

She shivered as the temperature of the room dropped even more. An invisible forced blew through the room, the curtains billowing in the guest of air. The salt circle had been blown apart and was now useless. Dean took a step to the side, positioning himself between where she stood and where he thought the source of the ominous puff of air had come from.

The spirit flickered into view looking just as pissed as she always was. Her anger radiated around her, leaving a sense of dread inside of everyone who occupied the room.

The spirits dress was covered in blood. The delicate material was also covered in rips. Looking at her, it was obvious what had happened. The pale and graying skin of the spirit seemed to almost glow in the moonlight that had coated the room after the curtains had been blown open.

She almost felt bad for the spirit. What would it be like to die like that? The thought sent a shiver down her spine. She didn't have anymore time to waste sympathizing, the spirit charged towards her and Dean. Stacy was cowering behind the two.

Before the spirit could finish the job, she fell back shrieking. Orange flames overtook the body. The spirit let out a horrible wail as her bones were burned.

It was finally over.

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The rest of the night had went by in a blur. Stacy had left the hotel, leaving most of her things behind. She had helped Dean find John, who had been in the basement. Apparently the older man has thought that maybe the bones could have been hiding down there. He had been wrong.

Sam and Bobby had successfully managed to locate the bones and burn them. A simple salt 'n burn. The small graveyard hiding out back had been relatively easy for them to find. And now, everything was over. Everyone was safe.

Other than the small wound on her arm, she was fine. The cut has been hidden by her flannel so that her father hadn't seen it. Now that the adrenaline had faded the pain had increased. It was only a small wound though. She had already taken a few Ibuprofen pills for it.

That didn't stop Dean from fussing over her.

She was sitting on the ledge of the sink in the motels tiny bathroom, Dean stood in between her legs. She had discarded her flannel and long sleeve shirt earlier, leaving her in a tank top.

Dean poured antiseptic over a piece of gauze before wiping it over the wound. The sudden burning sensation made her eyes water. She suddenly understood why her father always made her stay in the motel.

"Shit, shit. I'm sorry. This won't take long," Dean said quickly. He tried to get this done as quickly as possible without doing anything incorrectly.

As Dean cleaned the cut, he racked his brain for ways to distract her from the pain. He leaned in a bit closer, one hand resting on her upper thigh. He still hasn't addressed his feelings for her.

Kissing her in the apple orchard had been one of the best days of his life. His lips connected with hers had just felt right. He couldn't say that about much. With how hectic his life was, nothing felt right anymore. It wasn't like that with her.

"Does it need stitches?" She asked Dean, around eye level with him since she was sitting on the counter.

Dean chuckled, "No, don't worry about that."

She nodded as he grabbed the roll of bandages. He wasted no time in quickly bandaging up her arm, making sure that it wasn't too tight.

Now that she wasn't so distracted by the pain, Dean's proximity made her heart race. He was so close to her that it made her cheeks heat slightly. A light pink blush creeped up on her neck.

"Something got you flustered?" Dean asked in that stupid velvety voice of his that made her melt.

"Obviously," She mumbled under her breath.

Dean placed his other hand on her thigh too. His gaze finally met hers. Their eyes met and it felt like they couldn't control themselves. Dean's lips quickly connected with hers. The two fell into a rather familiar pattern.

One of her arms wrapped around his neck. She threaded her fingers through his short hair. He groaned into the kiss whenever she gave a slight tug. The kiss didn't last long before she pulled away breathlessly.

"I want this to mean something," She said quietly to Dean. Now it was her turn to make his cheeks turn red.

Dean responded just like she had thought that he would. He pulled away even further and stated at her, jaw slack. It was no secret that he had a tiny bit of commitment issues. But, over the past year, ever since that day in the apple orchard, things had been different.

"I-I don't know," Dean said finally. He didn't believe that she actually wanted that, wanted to be with him. There would be obstacles. Neither one of their dads would approve.

"Dean, I've given you a year!" She said a little bit loudly. She quickly lowered her voice so that Sam would not hear anything she said. "You don't get to kiss me in the motel, and then act like we don't mean anything to each other."

Dean stepped back, considering her words. He didn't want to lose her. If he was being honest with himself the thought absolutely terrified him. She meant a lot to him, more than he would ever be able to admit.

"Okay," he said. "I want to be with you... but your dad might shoot me, no, your dad will shoot me if he finds out." Dean ran a hand through his hair, fixing it from where she had mused it.

She moved forward, letting her feet hit the floor as she left the counter top. She moved until she stood directly in front of him. One of her hands gently caressed his cheek.

"I never said that I wanted my dad finding out."

Dean leaned down, letting their lips connect once again. This kiss was different than the last. It was more desperate, more needy. Dean invaded every single one of her senses. All she could feel was Dean's hands roaming her body, all she could smell was his aftershave, all she could do was grasp at his shirt, her fingers wrapping around the cotton fabric.

Deans lips moved to her neck, lightly suckling on her soft skin. He was careful not to leave any makes that wouldn't be covered by a t-shirt. He lightly dragged his teeth a ross the skin below her collarbone, his lips never leaving her skin.

She had begun to lift his shirt up whenever she was interrupted. A loud knock on the door made her and Dean jump apart from each other in shock.

"Are you two almost done in there?" Sam called out impatiently. "Hurry up already! I need to take a shower." Sam had tried getting to the bathroom first, Dean had kicked him out though. The older Winchester had claimed that fixing up the wound would only take a few minutes. It had been a lot longer than just a few minutes.

Sam was covered in dirt from helping Bobby dig up the grave, and he smelled like a campfire. He had began to knock on the bathroom door again whenever it flew open.

A pissed off looking Dean walked out.

She followed behind him. She gave Sam a sheepish smile before following after Dean. Sam rolled his eyes before walking into the bathroom. He didn't have enough time to question what they had been doing. He was tired of their antics.

She had sat down on her bed, Dean had sat next to her. Her face literally up as his hand rested on her knee. The two began chatting about how the hunt had went, and well, they might have exchanged a few quick kisses. Getting caught by Sam wouldn't be pleasant.

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A/N:

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[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

can we get a fic where r is a nurse or med student and she just had a terrible terrible day at work and steve just comforts her? ly <3

i know nothing about the medical world so forgive me. kinda basing this from a breakdown i had after orientation for my job then texting a friend for some help.

masterlist

silence. peace and quiet after a twenty-four hour on call shift. no beeping monitors, no patients getting angry with you, no messes to clean up; just you sitting in your car letting your brain melt. and then the tears started to sting, face pinching to withhold yourself but letting the floodgates free. your breathing was labored and your head was getting fuzzy, you hoped no one was a witness to your breakdown.

fingers death gripping onto your leather steering wheel, head falling forward and almost hitting your horn. you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to take deep slow breaths, needing to steady yourself before making the thirty minute drive back to your apartment where steve was waiting for you.

steve. with his name popping into your head you reached into your bag, pulling your phone and flipping it open then pressing one to speed dial the landline. the dial tone rang twice and then you heard his voice.

“harrington residence.” just those two words from your husband lifted your sorrows for a moment, allowing you to calmly speak into the receiver. “hi honey.” a sigh of relief before a wet hiccup followed.

you could hear the concern when steve asked, “hey, you off? need me to pick you up?” already knowing you had your car with you, but also knowing you would be exhausted to drive.

you shook your head even though it wasn’t seen, “no, no. just… just wanted to see if you needed anything?” closing your eyes as the welling tears continued. “want something for lunch? was gonna stop by-“

“it’s fine, honey. i already cooked something for you. just get home safe. i love you.” and he didn’t hang up right away, waiting for you to respond back. a croaked “i love you,” then quick to press the end call button. you took deep calming breaths, five in five out, before starting the engine and cutting the radio off.

you kept to the speed limit, sometimes going three over or even five under causing people to honk and speed past you. you didn’t have the energy to care about their pissed stares, just counting the stop lights until you hit your block, rolling into the complex then pulling into your parking spot.

your bones felt like liquid as you gathered your bags and drinks, locking your car then heading up the one flight of stairs. a quick left then past three doors and you stood outside yours, number 736, a lovely floral reef circled the peep hole.

with a heavy hand you slid your key into the lock, turned the knob and was greeted to the warm lighting and laugh track blaring from the tv. the lingering smell of mac and cheese with some baked chicken and steamed veggies caused your stomach to gargle.

“hey pretty.” steve’s smooth voice slid into the hallway with you, his hands reaching out to take your load off your shoulders.

he made sure to keep your belonging organized and hang your coat on the rack. he knelt to the floor and helped tug your sneakers off your aching feet before ushering your further into the apartment to the couch.

reruns of your favorite sitcom light the room as steve leaned in to press a tender kiss on your left temple, eyes closing in contentment. “i’ll be back with our food.”

steve was gone less than five minutes and you could feel your eyes growing heavy as each second passed, head lulling to rest on the back of your couch. you smiled and chuckled low at a joke you already knew, but it still tickled you pink.

“kept it in the oven to stay warm. hope it taste good, i followed the recipe for the mac and chicken, but you know me.” steve set the two plates on the small table covering your feet. “how’s my girl doing?”

he rested a palm to your left thigh and rubbed over your scrubs comfortably. you took a deep inhale before sighing out, “draining.” the one word sufficient in summarizing everything.

steve hummed, “sorry. but luckily you’re taking the next two days off. how about we just rot in bed for one day and then be slightly adults the next day. how’s that sound?” his browns eyes darkened and shaded with the flickering light.

leaning your head onto his right shoulder and fighting sleep you yawned out, “sounds perfect.” the laugh track and commercials becoming your white noise.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

KINKTOBER DAY 4 | Billy Loomis x Reader

Kinktober day 4: knife play

Warnings: 18+, knife play, mention of murder and blood, fingering

Timeline and age accuracy is something we don’t look at on this blog

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

—

All your life you tried so hard to act nice like a lady, but you met Billy and he taught you that it was good to be crazy. 

You sat on a chair in the Loomis’ kitchen, watching Billy methodically take off his black robe and mask after returning from killing Maureen Prescott. He moved to the sink and cleaned his knife, the sound of water running filled the room as the clear water turned red from the blood.  

Your heart raced as you realized just how crazy Billy Loomis truly was. He murdered someone tonight. He snuck into the Prescotts’ home and stabben Maureen multiple times with a knife. 

Once it was rid of all traces of blood, Billy set it on the kitchen table. 

A dark smirk formed on his lips. ‘’She screamed like a pig in the slaughterhouse,’’ he said, his voice devoid of remorse. ‘’Bled like one too.’’ 

Although you didn’t participate in the murder, you were Billy’s accomplice — and alibi. When you arrived at his house, you made sure his neighbors saw you so you could be his alibi in case the police suspected him. There were very slim chances for that to happen though. Billy had been extra careful to leave no traces behind. Not even a single hair. 

‘’That’s what the bitch gets for ruining my family and robbing me of a father,’’ Billy muttered bitterly, his eyes filled with a chilling mix of anger and satisfaction. 

You stayed silent while he finished cleaning up. 

You didn’t understand why Billy wanted to kill Maureen so bad. He wanted revenge, but wouldn't revealing her hidden romance with her secret boyfriend be a more fitting way of revenge? It would have ruined her family the same way she had ruined Billy’s.

The sound of sirens in the distance snapped you out of your thoughts, and you raised your eyes at Billy. ‘’Did anyone see you on your way back?’’ you asked, suddenly nervous.

Billy shook his head, setting down the — now clean — knife on the table. ‘’I went through the alley and came to the backyard through the bushes,’’ he explained, taking your hands in his and making you stand up as his eyes met yours. ‘’They’re not gonna get to me.’’ Sensing your worry, Billy wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against him. ‘’I promise.’’ 

You nodded against his flannel shirt, taking his words. Everything’s gonna be alright.

The sound of the sirens faded away as they neared Sidney’s house, making you breathe of relief. One of your hands reached behind Billy’s neck to pull him down for a kiss, igniting a fire in both of you. A kiss was rarely just a kiss with him.  

Your lower back hit the edge of the table, Billy’s tongue swiping into your mouth while he undid the buttons of your shirt, eager to get you naked and pressed against him, but you grabbed his knife and broke contact. Billy gave you a confused look. A mischievous smile drew on your lips and you stepped back. 

‘’Careful with that.’’ 

Ignoring his warning, you dragged the knife between your breasts, the dull side of the blade brushing against the delicate lace of your bra very slowly. ‘’Knives don’t scare me,’’ you said.

Before you, Billy was biting at his bottom lip, his dark eyes fixated on the knife in your hand. He felt himself grow stiff in his jeans, turned on by the sight of his girl playing with his knife. The same knife he used to kill someone half an hour ago.

You felt him take it from you and he angled the blade up towards your face. The pointed tip got flipped around now. He gracefully pressed it against your bottom lip, careful not to hurt you. 

Billy looked down at you. ‘’Are you sure? Because I could slice your throat with one easy swipe,‘’ he whispered into your ear and you felt your knees go weak. ‘’Or I could tear your clothes off with one easy swipe.’’ 

Your breath caught in your throat and your stomach burned. Do it.

Slowly, Billy pulled the knife from your lip and gently slid it down your neck and sternum until he reached the gore of your bra. He cut the fabric with one swift movement, letting your breast naturally fall from the bra. He circled one nipple, then the other. The cool metal made them harden and left you even more turned on.

‘’I didn’t take you for a freak,’’ Billy pointed out with a soft laugh as he watched you react under his knife. 

You looked down at the blade over your nipple, then back at your boyfriend. ‘’Don’t tell me you’re not enjoying this too.’’ Without taking your eyes off his, you cupped Billy’s cock over his jeans, making him groan.  In the next ten seconds, both your pants had joined the floor. It was a mess of rush and shuffling on one leg to get the other out, but once they were off, Billy’s hand found your aching — and so wet — pussy and slipped two fingers in with ease, eliciting a relieved moan as you clung to his shoulder.

—

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