#still get freaked out when i have to go over 40 :/

[semisentient-entity]

drove without panicking (as much) today :D

[coquettepascal]

texas sweet

summary: joel is your friendly neighborhood dad of the year, so why is his driveway empty on father's day? better yet, why do you feel the need to make up for everyone elses absence?

tags: 18+, smut, handjob, desc of joel mastubrating, a "massage", neighbor!joel x f!reader, massages, general cheesiness, soft!joel, pathetic!joel, almost(?) sub!joel, reader gets blueballed (sorry), biting, joel whimpering, joel being a proud girl dad, no-outbreak, ellie and sarah exist, tommy is mentioned(!!), joel is a southern gentleman, mention of reader having parents, no desc of reader but she can fit between joel and the couch, dilf!joel (yum)

-> part. ii here!

a/n: my first joel fic ever... i would like to thank every person who has written no-outbreak!joel or pre-outbreak!joel. i freaked it.

texas sweet masterlist and my masterlist

(4.9k, not beta read.)

Moving to Texas was not the plan, or even the “blessing” your mother claimed it would be. Being the one who took over your grandparents home after they moved to a seniors facility? Fantastic! Amazing, even. Leaving your job, friends, and boyfriend, back home? Horrible. Heart wrenching and annoying. 

Austin, for the most part, was lonely. Long distance didn’t end up working between you and your boyfriend, your friends just got busier with their jobs, and it wasn’t like your parents could just drive 14 hours to see you every weekend. Co-workers were nice, but honestly who really wants to hang out with people you already spend 40 hours a week with? Maybe you were jaded, or picky, which was what your mother also claimed, or maybe your whole life was uprooted for what felt like no reason.

What you weren’t picky about, was the view from your bedroom window. You’re not a peeping tom, or a perv, but it isn’t your fault that your dilf-y next door neighbor is so easy on the eyes.

No, moving to Austin was not a blessing, but Joel Miller was.

Joel was the neighborhood guy. Need an oil change? Joel. Need your fence fixed? Joel. Block party? Joel’s yard. It’s like he doesn’t know how to say no to anybody, that southern politeness deeper than the drawl that lies in his voice. When you had first moved here he had helped you move your couch through the door, all smiles and polite nods. He barely introduced himself before he was asking if you needed any help, and he had called you “young lady,” which made you giggle. Such a giving man, but of course he was. A single father to two daughters? “No” wasn't in his vocabulary.

Sometimes, you think if your dad was as good a father as Joel Miller was, maybe you wouldn’t be fiending after him with such ferocity. Watching him with his two girls, Sarah and Ellie, was something that tugged your heartstrings no matter what. Sarah wasn’t around a lot anymore, apparently she went away to a fancy college. You had helped her pack all her stuff into Joel’s truck, but quickly went inside when you saw him getting misty eyed, you didn't want to embarrass the poor guy. Ellie is younger than Sarah and still lives at home. Honestly, you didn’t know much about her apart from the fact that she was adopted and that she’s in high school. She’s always happy to chat, but she’s also always going somewhere, which leaves Joel lonely sometimes. 

Joel seems better suited for loneliness than you are though. His brother Tommy comes around pretty often, though they seem fairly opposite. Tommy truly is sweet, has always chatted with you during block parties (even if it may be for nefarious reasons when he’s had too many drinks,) but he looks like… a fuckboy. Without fail, every time he rolls up to Joel’s house, he’s blasting some shitty new country music and wearing Pit Viper sunglasses as he carefully parks his spotless truck. Despite their differences though, they get along just as well. Your summer evenings are often interrupted by the sound of their laughs and the crisp sound of the two cracking open some cold ones. 

So why is it that when Father’s day rolls around, Joel’s driveway is empty?

You aren’t watching on purpose, you just happen to glance over that way a lot. The only action you see from his house is Ellie leaving for her friend's house sometime after noon, like usual on a Sunday. No signs of Sarah or Tommy. Part of you figured that maybe Sarah would make the lengthy drive down from her school, or maybe that Tommy would show up at some point, but nobody does. 

‘Not creepy,’ you assure yourself as you go upstairs to peer through your bedroom window to see if anyone is there. You could totally look through the kitchen window that directly faces his backyard, but you fear the day he’s looking right back at you. 

Looking outside, you see nothing. Joel’s grey-blue truck sits unmoved in the driveway, his plants are watered though so you guess he came outside at some point. The thought makes you feel a bit sad, the image of Joel and his soft eyes watering the plants, whistling to himself and trying to tell himself it doesn’t matter that nobody came. He probably really doesn’t care at all, a lot of men aren’t very sentimental or emotional about days like this, but you care.

He’s a good man, a good father, and a good neighbor. Seeing him be underappreciated on what is basically his day is ticking you off for some stupid reason. When 3pm rolls around you decide that you have to do something for Joel, it feels wrong not to. 

Which is how you end up in line for the register at Home Depot. You sat in the parking lot for 10 minutes racking your brain, trying to think of things that guys like, but came up with nothing. Joel is a contractor, so he’ll probably find some use out of a 50 dollar Home Depot gift card, but it still feels too impersonal. Joel literally fixed your toilet when a date you took home broke the handle off the tank mid-vomit. He’s too nice to just hand a stupid gift card with “Happy Father’s day” scrawled across the mini paper envelope. He deserves something thoughtful, something gentler than a gift card for (probably) his job. 

…Which is how you end up waiting in line for the register at the supermarket. You have a bouquet of flowers in your hand, with a Home Depot gift card shoved in your jacket pocket. It feels utterly ridiculous to give Joel Miller flowers, to pick out which colours you think he’d like and get the florist to wrap them up neatly with a bow, but you have a good reason. At some point in the past week you had seen a post about how a lot of men never receive flowers. It resurfaced in your head as you picked your brain again, making you wonder if Joel had ever received flowers. You know that he was married once, but that was when Sarah was little, it’d probably been 10 or even 15 years since he had any gestures like that made for him.

Not that this was for romance reasons. It was for father’s-appreciation-day reasons. Of course.

Maybe you shouldn’t be so invested in your neighbors emotions and life, but it’s too late now. You carefully pack away the flowers in the back seat of your car, snuggling the gift card into the ribbon that holds the flowers together. 

—

And if you thought that standing in line at Home Depot, or at the supermarket was bad, it’s so much worse trying to work up the courage to knock on Joel’s front door. You can’t figure out how to hold this bouquet of flowers behind your back without dropping them, so you just awkwardly knock on his door with one hand, flowers in the other. At least the gift card is managing to stay in place where you tucked it, but you wish you told the florist not to write his name in cursive.

Your repeating thoughts of “Is this weird? Am I weird?” are interrupted when he opens the door.

Joel looks… normal. He doesn’t look sad like you thought he might, if anything he looks more confused at you being there. His brown hair is tousled slightly and he’s wearing pajama pants, even though he smells fresh. Joel’s eyes meet yours and he tilts his head quietly, as if waiting for you to go on, but what do you even say? Oh shit that’s right–

“Happy father’s day,” your voice comes out shyly. You shove the flowers at him a little abruptly and he blinks in surprise, accepting them. It’s awkward for a second, the way his eyebrows shoot up as he notices the cursive lettering of his name written on the envelope.

“These’re for me, darlin’?” He asks curiously, still looking over the flowers.

A stammering of “um” and “yeah” leave your mouth pretty quickly and he smiles. You’re pretty sure he says thank you, but you just kind of stare at him awkwardly. A beat passes between the two of you as he admires the gift. “You uh– You don’t think of me as your dad, do you?” Joel asks. Oh fuck. You hadn’t thought about the fact that maybe that was what he would take away from this. All of your thoughts had been consumed by worries that he’d think you were trying to hit on him, but here he was thinking that you thought of him as a father figure. Which you didn’t. Your dad is fine, no need to replace him, at least not at this point. 

“No, no. Oh my god– Sorry,” You choke out, half laughing. It’s a quiet moment on the porch for a second, just the two of you standing there. Maybe you should explain your thought process.

“It’s just that you’re a dad and like– not to sound like a weirdo freak but nobody’s been at your house all day and it made me sad for you. Not that I pity you but,” your voice trails off as you fear you’ve made this worse. Joel seems a bit surprised at this, mouth opening slightly but then transitioning to a soft smile.

“And what if I told you that I wanted everyone t’leave me alone today?” He asks you slyly. And oh god, that is so much worse than him mistaking this gesture for flirting or pity. You never would have thought that maybe the guy who does everything for everyone probably just wants to be left the hell alone for a gift. Your heart drops in your chest, taking all the blood in your face with it. Embarrassment floods you with a force you didn’t realize possible, stuttered apologies leaving your lips as fast as you can. Joel shakes his head, laughing quietly as you sputter “sorry” repeatedly, like a broken sprinkler.

“I’m jokin’, sweetheart. I appreciate this,” he says. The crows' feet by his eyes shouldn’t be as charming as they are, but combined with that rumbling laugh and smile… he could get away with anything. He plucks the Home Depot gift card from the ribbon and huffs a laugh, like he’s impressed.

Well that’s… something? It made him smile right? Maybe feeling bad for Joel was better than feeling stupid in front of him. You step back, towards the stairs of his porch, but he shakes his head. “You were really this worried?” He asks, admiring the flowers. That makes your heart bloom in your chest, seeing how much he really liked this. Joel didn’t seem much like a flower guy, but you saw the way he kept his yard neat, with tulips in the spring and his lawn trimmed squarely. Shyly, you nod in response to his question. It feels silly to worry for him like this, you don’t know if he considers you a friend the way he is in your head.

“S’awful sweet,” he tells you. Something about his presence is so big, a balance of hospitality and intimidation all at once. Maybe it’s his big stature, broad shoulders and thick arms, a body built for work. Or his voice, the strong timbre of it, humbled in southern twang. Joel is a force of warmth, a heat that can’t be contained. His heart shines through his golden skin, forcing whoever he looks at to have a spotlight. That’s where the intimidation lies, in how he makes you feel like there’s a halo over your head, all his attention right there. 

He’s so hot you don’t even want him to look at you.

But there he is anyways, smiling as he admires the gift again, dorkily leaning in to dramatically huff the flowers. His mouth is moving but you're deafened by the sensation of a blush on your face. You thought it was just a silly little crush, because who wouldn’t find Joel attractive. He’s handsome, hard working, and just an all around traditional man. But this attraction… It's like your crush on him has given you tinnitus. His lips are moving and you aren’t registering the words. Wait shit, he’s speaking–

“Darlin’?” Joel calls. He looks at you, head tilted, and still fucking smiling. The way his eyes glimmer, the crows feet that squeeze them into a smile… Why is it so hard to hear him?

“I asked if you wanted to come in,” he repeats. 

—

You’ve never been inside Joel’s house, but you’d never thought about it either. Being in it, now, it all makes sense. Photos of his daughters are framed everywhere, their achievements plastered on the walls in shines of silver and gold. It’s hard not to imagine Joel hunched over his kitchen counter, tediously cutting pictures out to place them in frames. He was only an idea before, an idea of a man, and now he has become one wordlessly. All it took was stepping inside his house, smelling him everywhere. Life dances in the jackets that are tossed over dining room chairs, the toolbelt dumped by the shoe rack at the door. The picture of Joel you held in your mind begins to come alive, the movements in the details of his life stealing your breath. He is more than a good man, he is a great one.

And now, you have to strike up a conversation with him.

Joel grunts as he sits down on the couch beside you, placing two glasses of water down. He places his glass in front of the can of beer sitting on a coaster, distorting the label to nothing but warped blue and red. Is he hiding that he was drinking? Why is that cute? 

A pause hushes both of you as Joel gets comfortable, sitting down. He’s paused a show, but it just looks like it was whatever movie was playing on the local TV channel. 

“You must be so proud of them,” you say, eyes glazing over the pictures of Sarah and Ellie. You can tell exactly which photos were taken with a camera and which were taken with his phone. One picture of Ellie, maybe when she was 13 or 14, is from her soccer tournament. She’s smiling, holding up a ribbon for MVP, and Joel’s thumb is in the bottom corner. It’s strange to realize that Joel has basically been a father twice over, but also admirable. 

He talks for a little while, rambling about Sarah and her time up at college, and also how Ellie has been doing better in school this year. You always had a feeling Ellie was a bit feistier than Sarah was, but to hear how proud Joel is of her anyways makes your heart flutter. His love for them was so unconditional, so why weren’t they here today? You ask him, a half smile crossing his lips as he hears your question.

“Sarah called me ‘round lunchtime, one of them video calls. Had lunch with my girl and got to catch up with her. She’s so damn busy, y’know that? Always studying and,” he catches his breath, realizing he’s blabbing again. A reddish tone creeps up his neck in embarrassment.

“Point is, she called. Was nice of her, I miss her lots,” He finishes quietly.

Your eyebrow raises. He didn’t mention Ellie. Joel huffs.

“I’m 99% sure she’s over at Dina’s making me a gift, but it’s fine that she forgot. I’ve been on her ass about homework, fair’s fair.”

He looks cute when he’s begrudging, one side of his mouth sliding to the side so part of his cheek puffs over it. You nod, making a comment in response. The conversation is so smooth you forget what you’re saying as soon as you’re laughing. 

This is easier than you thought it would be. Joel’s always been friendly, obviously, but you just assumed he would be more closed off than this. Even if it’s just rambling about his daughters, or Tommy, or the jobs he’s been managing and how annoying his clients are, it’s something more. Something more than the passing glances and small conversation you’ve had before.

You talk a bit about your own life, how tough the move to Texas was, how lonely it can be. Joel doesn’t seem as receptive to this, but there’s an understanding in his eyes that you can feel. He’s a tough clam to slide your knife into, and you doubt you’ll feel his tongue today. The eager blabber he has for his family and career doesn’t extend to himself, and it seems you’ve hit a wall with him. Or maybe you’ve hit too close to home. “Sorry,” you say, feeling a little weird. 

This whole day has felt like you’re pulling against a lead Joel wasn’t even holding in the first place, like you’re always doing too much. But just like the rest of the day, he isn’t holding the rope around your neck. He’s surging forward with reassurances blooming out of his mouth, Texas sweet to the bone. 

He shakes his head, telling you that it’s fine, he gets it. A joke about being a single father, a smile directed at you, consoling. Vaporub for your congested anxieties.

“I’m sorry darlin,” Joel starts, and fuck is he sending you home? Is that your cue to leave? You did too much, he was just being nice.

“-- I didn’t even offer you water when you came in. D’you need somethin’ to drink?” He asks.

God, doesn’t he get tired of being this nice? Your neighbors warned you that he was a grump when you first moved here, dirty liars. 

“Oh, sure, uh. Water would be good, thanks,” you reply.

You’re only half paying attention to the grunt he lets out when he gets up the first time, your eyes busying themselves with the way his cotton tee stretches across the muscled planes of his back. But, after he hands you the glass of water and groans when he sinks back into the couch, you notice. 

You down the glass like you’re parched, but really your mouth just needs to be full right now. The sound of his groans are bouncing in your ear canals as your neck flushes red with each gulp of water. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything.

“Bad back?” You ask after you catch your breath. 

He hums in response, talking about how it comes with the job he has. “All that lifting in my early years…” as if he’s a thousand years old. Joel mentions that he’s been to the chiropractor a few times, thanks to Sarah’s begging and pleading.

“I don’t know, I think it’s gimmicky. They get you on the table and the guy feelin’ you up acts like he’s Christ himself,” Joel says, rolling his eyes. 

The idea of Joel, shirtless and face down, grumbling as some guy works his hands over his skin. The idea of Joel groaning in relief as someone else works those knots out, God you wish you were a chiropractor, you wish you could put your hands all over him.

Greed hardens over your mind like a shell, and the words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“I could– I could help, maybe. My dad used to have a pretty bad back and I kinda figured out how to work knots out.”

Joel’s eyes widen, looking over to you with mild interest. For the first time today, around Joel, you don’t feel like you’ve overstepped. In fact he looks interested in this offer. A beat passes between the two of you, hesitation caught in his throat it seems.

It’s probably super fucked up in his head, his younger neighbor coming over and offering to rub him down. But your mind is still greedy, coated in thoughts of his skin under your palms, and that southern rumble that’s given you dilf earworms.

He looks like he’s about to say no when you speak again.

“You don’t even have to lay down, or take your shirt off. Could just lift it up,” you offer. 

Joel still looks like he’s going to say no, the left side of his mouth raising to make up some reason. You can’t let him, not when you’ve been this ballsy. Walking out of here now would make this infinitely more awkward.

“It’s your day, Joel,” you supply him with a reason to say yes. The reason might be silly, might be a last minute add-on to his father’s day, but who cares.

Apparently not Joel, since he pulls his shirt up to his shoulders, the fabric scrunching around his broad frame.

—

You feel a little stupid, slotted behind Joel on the couch. The two of you are basically shoved up against one another, Joel wriggling to give you access to his lower back. He hasn’t said anything yet, no reassurance that this backrub is any good. You think you’re doing well, you feel the knots loosening. It might be better this way, him not making noise. The groan you heard earlier was more than enough to push you into a frenzy.

Your hands work further down, where his waist begins to pull in. Looking closer you can see where the softness of his tummy is, a fatherly badge of honor. Continuing your movements, you gently press your thumbs into the flesh there, and earn yourself Joel’s first noise.

Not a grunt, groan, complaint, or cuss. A whimper.

Your voice clashes with his, both of you talking over each other accidentally.

“Are you okay–” you ask as his voice flounders again, a “Darlin--” leaving him out of his own volition.

Pulling your hands away you begin to pull his shirt back down his back, mortified. How could you claim you were good at this and then hurt his back more? Joel’s been through enough today.

“Please don’t stop,” Joel’s voice grabs your brain again, forcing your focus.

He’s sliding his shirt up again, just by rolling his shoulders as he hunches over, waiting for you to continue. His face is in his hands, and his ears are pink. It’s the first time he’s asked you for anything tonight, you can’t refuse him. 

Placing your hands back where they were, you begin to massage again. It seems like his lower back is the main problem, with the way he’s grunting into his palms. As your hands work away the aches he begins to swear to himself. 

“Fuck,” he grunts as your thumbs dig deep, soothing a pain he hasn’t felt eased in years. 

This is good. Pride spreads in your chest, knowing he feels better. Your hands work away, and you get laser focused on untangling these massive knots in his back. Eventually you break your focus, switching to softer rubs and small scratches up and down his back.

Tearing your eyes away from his skin, you realize the throw pillow that was beside you earlier is gone. The yellow corner of the cushion peeks at you from where you saw Joel’s belly earlier, over his lap. A thick forearm is crushing it into himself there, the veins in his neck pulsing. 

Flames lick up your face, onto the tips of your ears and down your neck, heating your spine. Is he aroused right now? “Joel?” You ask quietly. 

He shakes his head, voice tight.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Just– it just feels nice,” he admits.

Your hands pause. Okay, so he’s admitted he’s hard. What do you do now? Keep rubbing his back and blueball the poor guy? On Father's day? That seems mean, and awkward. Everything about this is awkward though, so it couldn’t really get worse.

“I could… I could help it feel better,” you offer meekly.

You’re not scared of a dick. You aren’t. Your voice is quiet because it seems like he is horribly ashamed of this, probably feeling guilty.

Joel rubs a hand over his face.

“You don’t have to, you can just go,” he says, but his voice betrays him. Need is sewn in his tone, a desperation.

Part of you wonders how long it’s been since someone touched him like this as you reach around, palming the front of his jeans. The hiss he lets out tells you it’s been awhile. How wrong that is, an attractive man like Joel being forced to get his own rocks off.

Getting the button and fly of his jeans down is difficult when you can’t see, even worse when your brain is making up images of Joel masturbating. He’s so shy when he’s being touched, does he bite his sheets? Bite his other fist in the shower? Poor boy, he deserves this. 

His hips lift off the couch to help you shove his jeans and briefs down. Joel’s bare ass slides against you and he cringes. “Is it okay if you don’t look?” He asks. 

You hate that he seems so insecure, but you’re not going to push him. Nodding into his skin, you press your face to his back, resting your cheek near the blade of his shoulder. He’s heavy in your palm, warm skin with veins your fingers can trace over.

Telling him that he’s big feels redundant, you’re sure he knows that about himself. Neither of you seem very sure about what you’re doing, the shuddering breaths from his chest matching your hesitant grasp around his cock. 

“Are you okay?” You ask again.

Joel nods into his hand, asking you to please touch him. 

Admittedly, it’s a dry hand job, but Joel doesn’t seem to mind. The flick of your wrist is fluid, even if your arm is cramping from being wrapped around him. Joel lets out these little noises, grunts and whines. His hand is covering his eyes while the other one rests lightly on your forearm, like he wants to know that you’re still there.

Need is exuding from him, making his desperation take over his need to really give a shit about how submissive he might be appearing. He shudders particularly hard as you squeeze on the upstroke, voice choking.

“Shit– shit, please,” he gasps, “please can I spit in your hand?” 

It’s a little surprising, but again, you can’t refuse him. You say “yeah” into his skin, closing your eyes as you feel him spit into your hand. It’s filthy, his saliva on you as he guides your hand to jerk him off. Joel uses your palm to slick the head of his dick, teasing himself on your skin.

It’s the first time you’ve seen him be selfish all day. Part of you wants to call him a good boy, but part of you also knows this might not be normal for Joel. Hell, this isn’t normal for you either. 

Instead, you ask him if it’s good. A rasped “yes,” emanates from him between a low groan and a curse. Your head lifts from his back as he begins to shudder, his orgasm creeping closer. Listening to him is so good, you’re a mess between your legs, where your core nudges his ass.

Without a thought, you sink your teeth into the meat between his shoulder and his neck. Not enough pressure to bruise or hurt, just to let him know you’re there. There was no intention to push him over the edge, but your little bite does. A guttural groan is forced out of him as he comes into your hand, stringing sticky between your fingers. 

“Fuck– fuck I’m sorry, oh my god,” he pants, shivering. 

Your head is shaking again, reassuring him that it was okay, that he’s okay. 

“It’ll wash off,” you joke, feeling the stick of him on you. 

—

Joel does help you wash it off, once he’s done redressing. He’s clingy though, arms around your waist and chin hooked over your shoulder as you wash your hands in his kitchen sink. He’s definitely sleepy, eyes blinking slowly when you peek at him while you dry your hands.

You step close to him, your damp hands meeting his dry ones. The awkward spirit of the evening has been killed off, his shyness melted away.

“Usually I’d offer to return the favor but… I have to pick up Ellie from her friend’s house now. I’m really sorry, darlin’,” he admits.

Shaking your head, you push away the negative feeling that surfaces. How are you supposed to go back to being neighbors after that? But also, what did you really expect?

Joel leads you to the door, legs a bit shakey. A smug feeling joins the negative ones in your chest at that, but it’s not enough. 

“I really do apologize,” Joel says again, “but this just gives me an opportunity to see you again. If you’d like, obviously. I think I owe ya dinner.” 

And there he is, not holding your lead but reassuring your heart. He wants to see you again.

Your eyes meet his in the dim light of the hallway, catching those sweet eyes in your own. He looks so hopeful, so apologetic too.

“I’d like that, but you don’t owe me anything. It’s Father’s day,” you point out. 

Joel rolls his eyes. This Father’s day excuse is a little overused between the two of you now, but it’s still cute to him since you’re the one saying it. He opens the door for you, slipping his own boots on and grabbing his keys.

“Fine,” Joel says, “but when Pretty Neighbor day rolls around, you let me know.

[wonsroyalty]

forbidden, 박성훈

pairing/warnings: 6.4k,, sunghoon x f!reader, brothers best friend, smut, jake and his sister are lowkey spoilt children!!

a/n: my og bias!!! i love sunghoon so so much omg, literally the prettiest boy ever.. hope i did him justice with this trope cause school is kicking my butt😓

masterlist

It wasn’t a secret to say that you wanted your brothers best friend.

You remember the day that Jake brought him over to your house. He was skinny and awkward looking but Jake, the ever-giving saviour, took him under his wing.

Sunghoon truly was innocent before he met Jake. Your brother corrupted him, turning him into a carbon copy of himself.

One time you asked him if he ever missed his old self and he responded harshly asking if you were crazy. Who knew that adopting a fuck boy persona could change a person so drastically..

Sunghoon was over at your house constantly, after school every day, every weekend, every holiday. You were convinced he didn’t ever spend a dinner at his own house.

At first it annoyed you because having two Jake’s at home wasn’t very appealing, but you knew that there was still a part of the old Sunghoon, deep, inside his now cold heart.

Your senior year was an absolute whirlwind, no annoying Jake to pester you and complain about your outfits, no claims that you were slutting yourself out to get the attention of his friends, no Sunghoon.

You didn’t really miss Jake’s presence while he was at university but you truly did miss Sunghoon.

Maybe that’s why you began to act out, screaming at him when he spilt milk down your top (you’d pushed him), calling him every name under the sun and ultimately teasing him relentlessly.

Jake pretended to be oblivious, ignoring your shouting as he focused on the video game in front of him.

He wanted to enjoy his summer, not deal with your new excessive stress reliever.

When he heard Sunghoon start screaming back at you, he got up with a loud groan.

He grabbed your arm, dragging you away from the kitchen.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he glared.

“He spilt milk onto-”

Jake was seething.

“Shut it.” he threatened. “Stop messing with Hoon and go clean up your mess. Dinner will be ready in 40.”

You grumbled under your breath as you stormed up the stairs.

Your parents were on yet another trip, claiming that they needed another break.

They had terrible timing as the day after they left, the shower in your en-suite broke.

You stomped your way over to the main bathroom on Jake’s floor, still jealous at the fact that they built the whole third floor for him and him only and that he had the shower with the best pressure.

Sulking, you peeled your clothes off and hopped into the shower, letting the hot water pierce your skin. Annoyed thoughts slowly trickled out as you scrubbed the milky scent away.

Not keeping track of time, you grabbed a fresh towel off Jake’s stack and wrapped your body.

As you opened the door, Sunghoon seemed to be reaching for the handle, about to open it.

“Sorry.” he grumbled. “I didn’t know you were in there.”

He waited expectantly for you to move out of the doorway but instead watched as you followed his every attempt to walk past you.

“I need to fucking pee, can you get out the way.” he groaned.

“Oh come onnnn, Sunghoon.” you shook your head. “Can’t I have a little fun?”

You dropped your towel at the last word, feigning shock at your actions.

Sunghoon immediately covered his eyes taking steps back.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” he screamed blushing heavily.

“It was an accident!” you screamed back wrapping your body.

“Yn!” Jake shouts from downstairs.

You ran down the stairs, narrowly missing Jake as you launched yourself into your room and locked the door.

With a laugh you got dressed, calling your best friend as you dried your hair at the messy vanity in your room.

“So.. you’re telling me that you purposely let go of your towel to get a reaction out of him.” Sunoo laughed.

You hummed confidently.

“You’re such a freak, yn.”

“You say that like you don’t already know.” you joked.

“No trust me, I know.” he rolled his eyes.

Yes, you had slept with your best friend a few times, but he had a dick and you wanted experience, so who better to trust than him?

“Well I gotta go, Jakey said dinner would be ready agessss ago.” you laughed. “Bye Noo, love you.”

“Love you more.” he blew you a kiss before ending the call.

You calmly made your way to the dinning room and sat in the seat that Jake had set up for you.

“Ramen, again?” you groaned. “How did it take you so long to make this…?”

Jake shot a deadly glare your way.

“If you want to complain about my specialty why don’t you make dinner tomorrow.”

“Gladly.” you accepted.

Sunghoon was silent the whole time you all ate.

Jake waffled on to him but he kept his head down, feeling the pressure of your stare.

You raised a leg onto his, testing the waters before you raised your foot slowly, letting it make its way further up.

“I can’t do this!” he shouted grasping his head.

“Huh?” Jake was confused, scrambling after Sunghoon as he put his shoes on, your own legs following after him.

“Hoon! You said you were staying over!” he complained.

“Yeah, Hoon!” you mockingly whined.

Sunghoon shoved past you.

“I’ll be back tomorrow.”

He snatched his car keys from the living room table and slammed the door behind himself.

��Wonder why he’s in a fucking mood.” Jake grumbled.

“Let’s just go eat..” you pushed him back to the table, hearing Sunghoon speed away.

~

Sunghoon kept his promise, returning the next day bright and early but camped out in Jake’s room the whole day.

Ear on the door, you heard him say “So, is Yn gonna stay away…”

“You know,” Jake trailed off. “Heeseung was over the other day and she didn’t act like that so I just think she hates you.”

“There’s a big difference between hate and lust.” Sunghoon shook his head.

“Ew! That’s my sister.” Jake gagged. “I truly don’t think she wants to fuck you.”

You sighed at how wrong he was, mentally giving him points for the protective act.

“Right.” Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “Not like i’d want to hit anyways.”

“Doesn’t matter. She’s still off limits, don’t try it.” Jake firmly said.

You heard them both shift around and out of the fear of getting caught you knocked on the door.

Sunghoon opened it, glaring down at you.

“What do you want?”

Your palms pushed his chest away from your intended path. Taking note of the fact that he was a lot more muscular than the previous summer.

“I’m not here for you,” you grumbled.

Jake tilted his head as if to ask you what Sunghoon had already said.

“I’m going shopping, gonna take your car because I’m outta fuel.”

“You can’t just take my car, let’s take yours and fill it up.”

“Let’s..?” Sunghoon grumbled.

“I have no money.” you lied.

“How’d you already finish your allowance?” Jake shook his head. “What was the plan when paying for the shopping?”

“Dad’s card.”

Jake hesitated before agreeing. “We’re all going, in my car.”

“I’m driving!” you ran out of the room, Jake following behind you as you raced to get the keys.

Sunghoon was in agony, sulking in the back seat as you and Jake argued over what songs should be played next in the cue.

“Siri, play Stay by Rihanna please.” Jake grinned in satisfaction as the song blasted through his car.

“Fuck you, I want Sticky! Siri play Sticky by Tyler the Creator.” you grumbled as his assistant didn’t listen to your voice and instead chose to snatch his phone and type it in.

The anger in his gut was slowly building up.

“Fuck! Yn keep your eyes on the fucking road, it’s a green light!” He shouted.

Both you and Jake jumped in fear.

Fingers shifting gears and feet pushing down on the pedals, you whipped into shape at the awareness of your surroundings.

“Jeez, Hoon.” Jake checked his ears for blood.

The rest of the ride was absolute silent, bar the music playing, you and Jake didn’t dare to speak up.

Sunghoon jumped out at the first opportunity, storming away with the shopping list leaving the two of you to trail after him like kicked puppies.

“I’ll go get the steak, it’s best from the butchers market down the road.” Jake pulled you in before he left. “Don’t do anything i wouldn’t..”

You nodded, giving him the sweetest smile.

He shook his head, pulling you in for a hug. You felt his lips place a peck on the top of your head.

“No funny business.” he threatened Sunghoon who grumbled in response.

“Sooo…” you dragged on. “Now that Jake’s gone- Hey! Don’t walk away while I’m speaking to you!”

The rest of the shopping trip was quite annoying.

All of your attempts to have Sunghoon squirming failed, he was blatantly ignoring your presence.

“Uh.. what’s Foie Gras?”

You giggled at his butchered attempt of pronouncing the item.

“Fattened duck liver.”

He physically recoiled. “Why would anyone wanna eat that.. ew.”

“It’s good, you’ll like it.” you persisted, leading him towards the correct aisle. “Sunoo??”

Your best friend stopped looking for salmon and embraced your hug.

His hands gripped your waist as you snuggled into his neck.

“Here with your new boy toy?” he laughed, pulling away from the heat of your body.

“I’m Sunghoon, nice to meet you.” the older boy leaned over you, holding a hand out for Sunoo to shake.

Sunoo gripped it firmly, greeting him with a smug grin.

“I’ve heard about you.”

“Good things I hope..”

“Well…” Sunoo laughed.

You pulled their hands apart, choosing to get all up in Sunoo’s personal space.

“Noo, are you coming to Heeseung’s party?” you poked his toned chest.

“Of course,” he grabbed your finger, the end of his sentence coming out as a whisper. “Kazhua told me that Yujin’s gonna be there as his plus one.”

It had been 3 weeks since you stopped talking to your friend Yujin after finding out that she’d slept with Sunghoon despite knowing that you had dibs on him.

Your expression immediately turned sour, very close to acting on the urge to drop kick Sunghoon then and there.

He’d always claimed that you were too young for him, despite there only being a years difference between the two of you, but then went behind your back and slept with a friend of the same age.

“You should see the look on his face right now.” Sunoo leant in closer, “He’s seething watching me get close to you. What a freak.”

Mood dissipating as an idea popped into your head, you took Sunoo’s hands and placed them on your ass. Letting him shamelessly grope you in public.

“Don’t be mean, I like that he’s kinda desperate sometimes.” you laughed.

Sunghoon fought to rip his vision away from you and your friend, slowly gaining the courage to grab the Foie Gras before storming over to you and yanking you away from Sunoo.

“Hey! I didn’t even say bye.” you turned your body to wave at your friend in response to the wink he sent you.

You watched in bewilderment as Sunghoon slammed the basket items onto the conveyor belt, scaring the cashier.

He whipped his wallet out of his pocket and took a card out to pay.

“You don’t have to do that..” you looked away in embarrassment.

You knew that Sunghoon wasn’t as well off as people like you and Jake. Taking up a summer job just to keep up with the lifestyle.

“Well Jake took your dad’s card, so unless you want to return all this, i’ll pay.” he pressed his lips together tightly.

The lack of refusal on your part led him to tap his card onto the scanner.

Watching him wince at the high transaction go through had you clenching your thighs together. You couldn’t tell if the hormones rose from Sunoo or Sunghoon but you didn’t really care.

He bagged the shopping and walked off to the car, not even bothering to look back at you.

Once the bags were in the boot you stood outside waiting for Jake.

“Jake wouldn’t have liked that.”

“Jake or you?” you rolled your eyes. “Sunoo’s my best friend.”

“So you just let your best friends fondle your ass in public?” he scoffed in disbelief. “Hee was right, you really are a slut.”

“Excuse me!”

You both turned to see an elderly lady coming over.

“Please could you help me load my shopping into the taxi?” she pleaded.

“Of course!” you beamed pushing down your anger with a gentle laugh.

Your parents had raised you right in some ways.

Sunghoon followed after you, keeping himself surprisingly close to your moving figure.

You both helped the lady transfer her bags from the trolley to the car, nodding with respect at her praise.

“What a cute couple, thank you for helping me.” she beamed, waving as she got into the passenger seat.

One look at Sunghoon’s face and you could tell he was torn between annoyance and embarrassment.

“Where the fuck is Jake?”

As if on cue Jake showed up.

You wiped your thumb at the lip stain on his cheek.

“You’re so nasty.”

He held a finger up to his lips before wrapping one arm around Sunghoon and the other around you.

“Sooo what did I miss?”

~

“PartyNextDoor? Really?” Sunghoon muttered walking into the dimly lit kitchen. It was clear that you were trying to set the mood.

Jake had sent him to help you out of fear that you’d burn something while he stepped out to meet some girl.

“He makes good music.” you shrugged seemingly unaffected by the lewd lyrics. “Aren’t you here to help?”

He nodded.

“Load the pasta into the oven dish, please.” you instructed. “Then put cheese on top.”

Sunghoon picked up the cheese block.

“Where’s the cheese grater?”

You told him that you’d get it, purposely bending over in your miniskirt so that he’d get an eyeful of the way your panties clung to your puffy folds.

“Oh… got it.”

Turning around you saw that Sunghoon was clearly distressed, pinching the top of his nose bridge.

You passed the grater over, internally laughing at the way his body jolted when your hand brushed against his.

“Aww Hoonie..” you pouted. “Do you want my help?”

Not even waiting for a response, you squeezed his crotch.

A low groan left his throat watching you drop to your knees with his trousers and boxers.

You impatiently began to suck him off, revelling in the fact that his cock was just as pretty as him.

Sunghoon’s head fell back, knuckles paling at the pressure of him gripping the counter.

“That feels so good.” he praised.

Sunghoon was big, too big even.

You swirled your fist at the parts you couldn’t reach and suckled on his tip, the praise doing something to you. Spurring you on to make him feel good.

“You shouldn’t be doing this.” he moaned.

“But you like it.” you sat back onto your knees.

Something about the look in your eyes had him whimpering.

“I knew the old you was in there somewhere!” your smile widened as you took him into your mouth again.

“Why are you still on that?” he seethed.

His long fingers scratched at your scalp, guiding your head off and on him. The vibrations of your gags had his knees buckling.

Sunghoon experimentally pushed your head fully onto his length. Your nose begged for air, buried in his abdomen and your throat constricted, feeling his dick push past your uvula.

“Come on, yn.” he coaxed. “Take it all.”

Tears streamed down your face, drool seeping out of the corners of your mouth.

“I’m so close, keep your throat open.” he groaned.

“Yn!” Jake shouted from the front door.

You slid off Sunghoon with a cough, scrambling to grab a tissue, wiping your tears and drool away as he pulled up his pants before running to the downstairs bathroom.

“Is dinner ready?” Jake asked poking his head into the kitchen.

“Just need to put it in the oven.” you croaked out.

“Cool, gonna play a game! Send Hoon my way when he comes back..”

Dinner was just like the day before except this time you and Sunghoon both couldn’t make eye contact yet Jake still waffled on.

The air felt thick even for you, trying your hardest to give Jake enthusiastic answers so he wouldn’t suspect anything.

You jumped up and down in happiness when he told you that he would clean the dishes so you could relax, dashing up to your room to get rid of your own problem.

The next few hours passed by rapidly as you tried time and time again to get yourself off, still throbbing from having Sunghoon in your mouth, but nothing was working.

“Ugh!” a quiet groan left your throat.

Your hands reached for the phone on your bedside table immediately clicking on Sunoo’s contact.

You: fuck i’m so horny

You: tried getting off but it won’t work

Sunoo: u want me to come over ??

You contemplated taking up his offer.

You: that’d take too long

Sunoo: is park over ??

You: yh.. i uh kinda sucked him off earlier

Sunoo: yeah I am NOT contracting an std

You: fuck you 😭😭😭

Sunoo: js send him a nude?? or smth 🫡

You: UGH ILY THANKS

You slipped on a thin nightgown, purposely pushing your chest upwards letting your hardened nipples peek through, taking a picture then taking another of your dripping pussy.

Fingers swiftly moving onto his contact, you pressed on the chat.

[1,000 from yn💋]

Sunghoon: so you had money the whole time..

Yn: [2 pictures attached] can you help me…?

seen

Sunghoon wasted no time in stumbling over to your room. Sending explicit pictures to him while he was staying in your brothers room was very insane.

He didn’t even knock on the door, storming in them locking it quietly after he got in.

“You can’t keep doing this.” he shook his head.

You gave him the best innocent look you could muster.

“Do what? What did I do, Hoonie?”

He ran a hand down his face, immediately losing all composure.

“Stand up.” he demanded.

You complied immediately. Yes, Sunghoon had shown his anger through badly timed outbursts but in that moment he seemed furious.

“You can’t keep trying to make me jealous.” he continued. “You don’t understand!”

“But-”

“You’re all I can think about anymore. I wake up and you’re there, I go to sleep and you’re in my dreams!” he whisper shouted, clearly being tormented by his own thoughts. “Sometimes I just can’t stand you but being away from you was absolute hell for me. Trust me, I am also trying to understand how this shit happened.”

“Hoon-”

“Please.” he begged. “Please just let me finish.”

He took a step forward, cradling your head in his hands.

“For years, I have been infatuated with you. Forced to watch from a distance so that I wouldn’t lose you and Jake.” he shook his head. “There really isn’t anything that I wouldn’t do for you. I..”

You placed your hands on top of his significantly larger ones.

“Hoon, what are you trying to say?” you pushed.

He closed his eyes in pain.

“Don’t make me say it.” he frowned. “If I say it, we can’t go back to how we were.”

“I think I love you.” you teared up.

His head whipped up. “What?”

“Sunghoon, I love you.” you repeated firmly.

You’d always wanted Sunghoon since the day you laid eyes on him, but his words put a new perspective into your head. Is this why you were jealous of anyone that got close to him? Is it why you very harshly cut off Yujin? Is it why you felt butterflies every time he was around?

You had let your lust cloud your original feelings for Sunghoon, letting him believe that you only wanted him for sex because you knew that you could never have him romantically.

Sunghoon truly was out of your league. He was genuinely kind and a respcted person. He was everything that you couldn’t be. But none of that mattered when he pressed his lips against yours.

Pent up emotions of the past 10 years released as you kissed back just as passionately. Kissing Sunghoon with as much angst and love as he gave.

You never ever opened your eyes while kissing someone else, but you peeked an eye open to see what he looked like up close.

The perfect mole on his nose, his thick furrowed brows and perfect hair.

He kept his eyes closed for a few moments after you pulled away, taking in the feeling.

“Hoonie.” you called out. “I want you.”

Sunghoon complied, throwing you onto your bed and getting comfortable between your legs.

You attached your lips onto his as he rutted his hips against your warm heat.

From when you sucked him off earlier you already knew he was big, but feeling his so close had you gasping.

“Shhh.” he whispered. “Keep it quiet baby, we can’t let Jake hear.”

Shit. Jake. You hoped that he just wouldn’t wake up or else you’d both be out the house till your parents came back.

Your head bobbled in response.

“Sunghoon,” you moaned. “I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

Hearing you moan his name had his pushing a particularly harsh thrust into you.

“Fuck. Where do you keep the condoms?”

He got off you briefly, taking the time to strip himself as you bent to reach into your desk drawer.

You jolted forwards as his palm made contact with your ass, impatiently begging you to hurry up.

Letting him roll the plastic on while you stripped down had you feeling a little scared. Being naked under his watchful eye was nothing like sending him a nude because you had to witness his reaction firsthand.

“You’re so beautiful.” he repeated, kissing up and down your body.

“Sunghoon please.” you whined.

Pushing your legs into your body, he lined himself up.

“Tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop, okay.” he nodded.

You wrapped a leg around his waist, pushing him into you, drooling at the delicious stretch he gave you.

“Fuck, I can’t.” he groaned into your neck, lapping at your skin, flicking his tongue onto the bruises he formed. “Your legs are shaking so much.”

He wasn’t wrong, this was the fastest you’d ever come close to orgasming instantly and he hadn’t even moved yet.

Two thrusts in and you were clamping down on his dick, mouth covered to muffle the string of moans leaving your throat.

“Oh my, I’m cumming. Fuck.” Sunghoon twitched as he groaned lowly in your ear. “Pussy so good, tight, fuck! I’ve never come this fast.”

You didn’t know if he was talking out of his ass but the fact that he wasn’t ashamed did things to you.

Once you’d both recovered, you realised he was still fully hard and that turned you on even more.

“I want more.” you begged. “Please give me more.”

“Fuck. You’re so hot.” he groped at your chest. “Where do you want me?”

You guided him to lie down near your pillows, discarding the condom before hovering your dripping core over his length.

“I want you raw.” you whined. “I’m on the pill, please.”

Sunghoon closed his eyes again.

“Please.” he begged. “Shit. Never thought i’d hear you say that.”

Your legs burned as you sat down feeling the burn ten times more in the new position.

“You’re so big, so big Hoonie.” you babbled.

He could see that you were struggling to bounce yourself so he sat up and guided your hips in time with his thrusts.

“Do you feel me here, baby?” he pressed the spot where his tip poked into your your lower abdomen, both moaning at the feeling.

“Fuck, Sunghoon, I can’t.” you cried.

This time around it felt so much more intense, the intimacy was off the charts as he forced you to look into his eyes. Tears were fully streaming down your face at the overwhelming pleasure.

“Don’t you wanna make me proud?” he frowned. “Doesn’t my little slut want me to fill her up? Give her my baby?”

His words had you moaning louder and louder causing him to kiss away the noise.

He smacked your ass harshly.

“Quiet pretty, you don’t want Jake to hear? Do you?” he growled.

You shook your head, falling into his embrace.

The squelch of your juices and the repeated slam of the bed against the wall made you realise that Jake probably already knew what was going on.

Your teeth dug into Sunghoon’s shoulder determined to keep quiet.

“I’m so close..” you sobbed. “Please can I cum?”

He lifted your head, forcing you to look at him.

“Of course, baby.” he groaned. “Let go for me.”

Your eyes rolled back, body going limp as the orgasm ran through you.

Sunghoon came after a few thrusts, filling you up to the brim.

He rubbed your back, waiting for you to come back to him.

But you just couldn’t stop crying, tears rolling down his collarbone.

“Yn?” he inspected your face. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry.” you sobbed, palms digging into your eyes. “Sorry that I was so mean to you just because I couldn’t control my feelings.”

He clicked his tongue, fingers tracing up and down your arms to soothe you.

“It’s not like I was an angel either.” he sighed. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like you couldn’t come to me.”

His lips pressed a soft kiss to your temple, bringing you into his embrace.

“I love you, Yn.” he whispered. “I think I always have.”

You gripped onto him a little tighter at his words, checking to see if the moment was real.

“Can you stay here?” you looked up at him with glassy eyes. “Please. I know that Jake-”

“Yeah, of course.” he relaxed. “I’m not gonna leave you.”

~

Over the next few days, you and Sunghoon had fucked like rabbits. Nowhere was safe, not your dad’s office, the living room, dining room, Jake’s bathroom, the outdoor AND indoor pool, even Sunghoon’s own room had been attacked.

You’d almost been caught by Jake on a few occasions but he still seemed to be oblivious. He didn’t even notice when Sunghoon fingered you under the table at a very public restaurant.

Maybe he was pretending, you just didn’t care. Sunghoon was way too good to give up, even for your beloved brother.

Now it was the night of Heeseung’s birthday party.

You hadn’t seen Sunghoon since he left your room that morning to go shopping with Jake and you were experiencing withdrawals.

The two of you had spoken about boundaries, with the impending doom of your parents coming back the next day but for now you wanted to have him as much as you could.

“So, you’re telling me that while I was on the phone with you, he was quite literally eating your out?” Kazhua grimaced. “You two are perfect for each other.”

You laughed swatting at her arm in fake offence.

“Uh oh….” Sunoo pursed his lips.

The three of you looked in the direction he was facing, watching as Yujin felt up and down Sunghoon’s buff arms, Jake and Heeseung looking away awkwardly.

“Yn! Wait!” Kazhua called after you but you were already storming over.

You pushed Yujin out of the way causing her to stumble and placed yourself in front of Sunghoon.

“Woah, Yn..” Jake laughed.

“Can we talk?” you asked Sunghoon.

“Well.. I’m with my friends right now..”

You forcefully grabbed his arm, dragging him outside not stopping till you got to his car.

The cold summer breeze nipped your shoulders, sending shivers down your spine.

“What the fuck is your problem?” you seethed. “Letting her touch all up on you when you know how I feel!”

Sunghoon just leant forward and kissed you.

You pushed him away, flustered.

“Hey!” you whisper shouted. “What if Jake just came outside right now?!”

“Shhh..” he laughed. “Come here then.”

He pulled his keys out of his pocket, and got into the drivers seat, patting his lap.

If you had checked your surroundings before you hesitantly got in then you would’ve noticed Riki, your brothers minion, dashing off to find Jake.

Sunghoon pushed your hips down onto his so you could feel him.

“This is how you make me feel.” he moaned, brushing your hair out of your face.

“Fuck.” you moaned. “I’m still mad at you though.”

“Take it out on me, pretty.”

Your lips attacked his neck, leaving as many marks as possible, you wanted everyone to see that Sunghoon was clearly taken.

He pulled his dick out of his pants, rubbing it along the slick of your panties.

You smacked his hand away, pulled your panties to the side and suck down onto him by guiding yourself.

Tears threatened to spill, body already covered in a thin layer of sweat.

Sunghoon wrapped his arms around your waist, thrusting up into you rapidly.

The whole car shook while the windows fogged up.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Hoonie, faster please!” you moaned.

“You think you can run your mouth whenever you feel like it, huh pretty?” he seemed to go even faster.

“I’m sorry!” you cried, nails digging into his biceps for stability.

“Oh you’re sorry? Prove it.” he growled. “Scream my name.”

“Hoon.” you whimpered. “That’s too risky.”

“Hm.. that’s not what I asked.” he rubbed circles on your clit, going even deeper than before. “I know that you can be louder than that.”

Having him hit the spot time and time again was sending you over the edge, you lost all composure the second he started sucking on your sweet spot.

“Sunghoon, fuck. Ah, right there! Fuck Daddy, please go faster!” you screamed out.

“Daddy, huh?” he groaned. “Gonna make you feel so good princess.”

You cried out as he continued to thrust into you at a faster pace, skin slapping erotically.

“I’m gonna-”

He told you it was okay to let go.

“Fuck, look how much you came for me.” he moaned in admiration, feeling true bliss as your essence leaked down to his balls. “So good for me, baby.��

Static filled your ears as he came inside you, waves of fire burining through your limbs.

Sunghoon’s head hit the headrest and you slumped onto his body.

His fingers scratched at your scalp soothing you.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” he asked softly.

You nodded, too tired to respond.

“I need you to use your words, princess..”

Your lips pressed light kisses on his neck.

“I’d love to.” you sighed contentedly. “Can we stay like this for a bit?”

You felt him nod, head falling on top of yours.

Sleep almost overtook you but a knock on the window woke you right up.

“Sunghoooon.” Jake sang.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he whispered.

You immediately shot up, looking for something to cover your face.

“One second.” Sunghoon shouted back.

He gave you his jacket so that Jake wouldn’t notice your outfit as you slipped on a cap from the car and faced the other way.

“Can we talk through the window?” Sunghoon asked nervously.

“No…” Jake groaned. “Open it.”

Sunghoon reluctantly pushed the button, internally cursing when Jake claimed he’d been hit by a whiff of sex.

“What’s up, Jake. I’m kinda busy.”

“Yeah.. I can see.” he gestured towards you, believing that you were just some random Sunghoon decided to fuck. “Have you seen my sister?”

He felt you tense beneath him.

“Um.. no.” Sunghoon shrugged. “I haven’t seen your sister.”

Riki walked out from behind Jake.

“He’s lying!” Riki shook his head. “That’s your sister, right there!”

Jake looked at him in disbelief, finally noticing that the girls hair looked a lot like yours.

Sunghoon tried to swat his hand away when he reached in to take your hat but failed miserably.

“Oh my…” Jake stumbled back.

Your head slowly turned to face him, a sheepish smile on your face.

“Hey, Jakey.”

“Oh my.”

He tried to grab you and pull you out of the car but the loudest whine left your mouth.

“You’re balls deep in my SISTER?!” Jake was furious. “My sister? My little sister!”

The two of you flinched.

“Fucking hell, Sunghoon! You could’ve had anyone else! She’s off limits!” Jake frowned. “Forbidden even!”

“Jake you don’t need to-” you started.

“You shut it.” he shook his head. “Both of you get decent and get out.”

Sunghoon rolled the window up so you could have privacy as you lifted your body off his, cum spilling out while he cleaned you up.

“Riks you can go now.” Jake dismissed the boy who had a smirk on his face.

You and Sunghoon stood infront of Jake, silently taking the verbal beating.

“We’re going home now.”

“I’ll drop her off.” Sunghoon stood his ground.

You pleaded with your eyes to get Jake to agree.

“Fine.”

You couldn’t help but laugh on the drive home.

“That was seriously bad timing.” you sighed, spotting Jake outside the door of your house, waiting for you.

Sunghoon got out first, opening the door for you.

You pulled him in and kissed him goodbye, ignoring Jake’s gags in the background.

“Come over for dinner tomorrow.” you pleaded. “Mother wants you there. So do I.”

“Okay.. I’ll be there.” he smiled. “If Jake tries to hit me though, I am swinging back.”

Jake cleared his throat loudly.

You said your goodbyes to Sunghoon as he watched Jake wrap an arm around you and guide you into the house but not leaving before throwing a middle finger up at him.

“So unnecessary.” Sunghoon sighed.

~

Sunghoon and Jake didn’t even try to hide the fact that they were arguing.

When your dad had told them to set the table together they argued in hushed whispers, fighting over forks.

Even your eldest brother, Noah could tell that something was up, he’d come home and intended to stay for a week after not being around for a whole year.

“Sunghoon?” you mother asked plating up caviar. “Has your mother said yes to the trip?”

Sunghoon nodded in response.

Right the trip. Your parents announced that they were taking you all to Greece, Noah was just there for the free holiday.

“You’re a leech, get a job.” you poked at him.

“Med school is kicking my butt, and who’s gonna pass up a free holiday?” he shoved you back.

“Yn.. you don’t have a job yourself either..” your father teased.

“She doesn’t need a job, I’ve got her.” Sunghoon caressed your shoulder.

Jake began to hysterically gag.

“Stop being so dramatic.” you sneered, body relaxing as Sunghoon rested his palm on your knee.

Everything was going well, Jake and Sunghoon didn’t interact and your parents didn’t pick up on a thing.

Sunghoon tried Foie Gras, he didn’t like it and begged you to let him go to a fast food restaurant but other than that he was enjoying himself.

That was until Jake dropped his fork under the table and noticed how shamelessly close the two of you were under the table.

“Oh my I’m gonna throw up.” he cried out.

“What now, Jake?” Noah sighed.

Jake leaned over the table to whisper at you and Sunghoon.

“Footsies under the table is fucking disgusting.” he sneered.

“What are you talking about?” Sunghoon frowned.

“UGH!” Jake shouted.

“Jaeyun Sim.” you mother scolded. “Sit down.”

“Mumma, no!” he whined. “Those two were fucking behind my back!”

Your dad choked on his wine as you dropped his fork.

“I mean we all thought it was gonna happen soon..” Noah trailed off.

“What?” Sunghoon raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean by all?”

Your mother ran round to the other side of the table, pulling you and Sunghoon into a hug.

“Aww my baby is growing up!” she wailed. “Who better to bring into the family than Sunghoon!”

Your dad shook Sunghoon’s hand.

“Careful with that one.” he joked. “She’s a handful.”

“You’re supposed to be on MY side!” Jake glared. “I found out that my best friend is sleeping with-”

“Dating.” your boyfriend corrected.

“Ew!” Jake shivered. “My little sister, my baby sister who I tried SO hard to protect from the men of this world.”

“Even I don’t care this much, Jake?” Noah snickered.

Jake stormed off to his room and slammed the door.

Despite having ups and downs with your brother you truly did love him. Seeing how much he hated the situation made you feel sorry for your actions.

“He’ll come around.” your dad assured.

You waited until the table was cleared to go bring Jake the rest of his food.

“Can I come in?” you asked softly.

He grumbled.

His figure lay on his bed, playing catch with a ball.

“What do you want?” he mumbled.

You placed the food on his desk and sat next to him, ignoring how he aimed the ball at your head.

“Jakey.” you started. “Why are you so against me being with Sunghoon?”

He rolled his eyes.

“I knew him first.”

“Yeah but..” you had to take a deep breath to stop yourself from crying. “I just don’t want you to be mad at me.”

“I‘m not mad.”

“Right.” you pursed your lips together. “I just wanted you to know that I really do love Sunghoon and that he loves me and I just want us all to be happy..”

A tear slipped out of your eye.

He sighed.

“Yeah, I get that. It’s just..” he wiped the tears that ran down. “He’s my best friend and you’re my little sister, if anyone hurts you i’d naturally have to go after them.. I just can’t bring myself to do that to Sunghoon. I love you both too much..”

Now you were both crying.

“Why didn’t you just say that?” you laughed through your tears.

“I thought that if I delayed the conversation it wouldn’t have to happen.” he smiled sadly. “But i’m not mad, I really am happy for you.. change just isn’t my strong suit.”

“He isn’t lying.” Sunghoon laughed from the doorway. “He’s couldn’t sleep for two months when we first got to uni. Claimed it was nerves but I think he just missed you too much.”

You pulled Jake into a hug, both sobbing gently.

Jake grabbed Sunghoon, pulling him in.

“You’re both so emotional.” he whispered, letting you both cry on his shoulders.

“Yeah well, you have to deal with this forever because you’re not leaving now.” you cried.

“I wouldn’t even dare.” he smiled.

THE END.

[pedgito]

𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 | Cowboy!Joel Miller x reader

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summary | Through all of his supposed wrong-doing, Joel has never failed you. Alternatively, falling in love with your dad's enemy while he shows you your full potential.

author's note | this is for @kedsandtubesocks's wild ride writing challenge! i struggled with this for a while, but ultimately erika and @hauntedhowlett helped me settle on something after sitting on the struggle bus for longer than i liked. this is all unbeta'd so please go easy on me dsjhkg

content warning | 18+ MDNI, no outbreak au, rodeo cowboy!joel, dbf but they're rivals now, forbidden love, hefty age gap (early 20s, late 40s), daddy issues, switches between present/flashbacks (all titled to differentiate), joel strolling around shirtless in a cowboy hat, mentions of injuries from riding, angst/internal conflict, fluff, smut (inappropriate use of a barstool), joel's such a loverboy

word count — 7.5k

Austin, Texas — Present Day: 

The energy in the stadium is inconceivable.

Austin always had amazing crowds during rodeo season, especially with such a close-knit community of people supporting a passion many have attempted to pursue. For you, it was in your blood, riding on the coattails of your father, you were saddled on a horse before you could even speak full sentences.

You can hear the deep, roaring chants as you stand steadily in the waiting pen, eyes locked on the television as the words echo in your ear, a faint smile growing on your face as you feel the solid press of his hand against your back.

 Joel.

It was a year of tireless dedication to get you back on a horse, somehow managing to entangle yourself in his grasp in more ways than you can explain—he wasn’t just a partner, he was your lover, a confidant, and the only person that could ease the quickly growing nerves.

“Like ridin’ a bike,” He says with an ease that comes natural to his voice, hand climbing up to settle against the back of your neck with a reassuring squeeze, “what’s goin’ on in that head of yours?”

“What if she gets startled?” You ask absently, the accident flashing through your mind in snapshots, the subtle twinge of pain in your knee that came and went when it felt like it.

“All she needs is you,” Joel reminds you, “s’never been a time I’ve seen her freak out when she’s got you on her back and you know it.”

Honey had been with you since you were a young girl, a trust built through years of connection and care, having practiced the art of non-verbal communication, you knew there was nothing to worry about, but the fear still lingered.

Joel’s Ranch, One Year Ago — Flashback:

Joel can see the way your hands shake, attempting to grasp the reins a few times with a clammy grip, over-adjusting yourself on the horse he’s ridden for many years, even into retirement. Buttercup was docile but strong and he’s attentive to Joel’s instruction, a rub over his snout as he attempted to reassure you.

It was your first time back on a horse since your accident, months of recuperating on Joel’s ranch with the help of him and his brother Tommy, working through doctor’s visits and physical therapy alongside two men who weren’t your father, but had filled the hole enough that you didn’t have to suffer through your injury alone.

“We’re just doing a few laps and getting a feel on things,” Joel reminds you, “I’m not pushin’ you and I’m not gonna let you push it too soon—what’s your number today?”

You bend and stretch your leg hesitantly, a subtle movement as Joel’s hand rests just above the thick band of your jeans, your face contorting in slight discomfort.

“Five…six,” You say indecisively, looking down at Joel.

“So, an eight,” He surmises with a smile, “alright—just a few laps and we’ll work from there.”

It was a step forward, fearful that you might never ride again. 

But, Joel follows you around the ring from start to finish.

He promised in the beginning that he wouldn’t leave your side and he hasn’t lied once.

Austin, Texas — Present Day:

While dressage started their run, you and Joel slipped off into a dressing room to watch the show and deal with the insistence from Joel that you shouldn’t ride on an empty stomach.

You picked at the food sparingly though, still feeling rattled by the energy in the arena.

Joel’s presence comes from behind, palms spread over the arms of your chair as he leans his chest into your back, lips brushing against your ear in an endearing manner, a ghost of his breath against the side of your face as he presses a gentle kiss against your neck.

"Hey," he murmurs softly, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. "You're going to be amazing out there, baby. I believe in you."

You lean back into his warmth, letting out a shaky breath. His arms encircle you, strong and comforting. "I'm just so nervous," you whisper.

Joel turns your face with his fingers at your chin. His eyes, filled with tenderness, meet yours. 

"Remember why you started riding in the first place? That freedom? The connection?"

You nod and his hand flattens against the side of your neck and you tilt your chin up expectantly, eager for a kiss that never comes, instead he chuckles and placates you with another kiss to your cheek.

“No distractions,” He chastises, “I meant that.”

You pout for a brief moment but relent, knowing that you needed a clear head and Joel would give you anything but with how easily he’s clouded your thoughts in the past several months.

Joel’s Ranch, Six Months Ago — Flashback:

When it happens, you aren’t expecting it.

Neither is Joel, which makes the entire situation unfold faster than you’re capable of processing.

The storm rolled in without warning, the wind picking up like someone had flipped a switch. 

But, the lighting strikes unexpectedly from the right and downfield with not a drop of rain in sight.

It startles everyone, but especially Buttercup, Joel’s horse. It was quick buck, with Joel’s hands on your waist luckily, so the decent is smooth but the impact isn’t as graceful as you would have liked while Joel’s horses thrashes wildly until he can calm him down, moving you a safe distance away before he can eventually get Buttercup tucked away in the stables and return to you, jogging toward you as the rain began to mist.

As Joel approaches, his eyes lock with yours, concern etched across his features. 

The misting rain clings to his cheeks, making them glisten in the fading light. He reaches out, his calloused hands gently cupping your face. Thumbs rubbing over your cheekbones.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his voice soft and filled with worry.

You nod, unable to speak as you realize how close he is. 

It’s never been like this, even in the moments of physical therapy and joint dinners with him and his brother—Joel had always been careful about being respectful and keeping his distance.

Joel was prominent in your childhood, weekend dinners with him and his daughters after the death of your mother—it was all a blur now, most of it buried away and forgotten. But, there was an eventual blow-up with your father and then he was gone. 

You’d see him on television and around town when shows were happening and he had a break from his extensive tour through different states, having turned his professional career into entertainment both out of a need for change and necessity.

He constantly remained out of reach, but with your injury and his willingness to yield to you when you needed someone in your life the most, he had stepped in. It made you feel like that little girl again, scraping your knee on the ground and crying for help, but instead of your dad it was Joel and the floating feeling in your stomach wasn’t because he was comforting you, but because he was touching you and neither of you had the courage to speak on it.

He’s never touched you like this. He wouldn’t. 

Joel’s always been careful—too careful.

"I'm fine," you assure him, but your voice trembles slightly. Joel kneels closer, his warmth enveloping you despite the cool rain. His hands find your shoulders, steadying you, “Joel—I swear, I’m okay.”

“M’so sorry, sweetheart,” He apologises despite no wrongdoing, “I should’ve checked the weather or at least held on a little tighter,”

You look up into his eyes, seeing the genuine worry there, and something else – something that makes your heart flutter in your chest. "It's not your fault," You insist, blinking away the rain from your lashes before Joel is helping you to your feet, his touch never once leaving your body.

The rain is falling harder now, but neither of you can find the urgency to move.

Joel's hands slide down your arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Your breath catches in your throat, coming out in a desperate attempt to clear the swell as you make a small, weak noise that seems to break him from his trance.

“Let’s get you dry,” He nods toward the house, grateful for the deflection as you turn, but his hand is still pressed firmly against your back as you both walk toward the door, like he’s too scared to let go - like you were too fragile to leave on your own.

Austin, Texas — Present Day:

Honey nuzzles into your chest before nibbling at the apple in your palm, always rigid about the time you spent with her before your shows, a moment of quiet and connection that strengthens the bond.

She was full of personality, leaning into the gentle touch you apply to her snout as you rub your hand up and into her mane, a small push into your ribs as she hears Joel approach.

Your heart swells with affection as you lean into Honey's warmth, savoring the sweet moment. 

Joel's footsteps draw near, but you're reluctant to break the spell. 

You press a soft kiss to Honey's velvety nose, whispering words of love and gratitude. As Joel appears, his eyes meet yours and a tender smile spreads across his face. He understands the depth of your connection with Honey, having witnessed your bond grow over countless shows and quiet moments like this. Even when you were much younger and Honey was twice the size she is now.

Your father had purchased her when Joel was meeting Buttercup, how the girls had hounded him over the responsibility to name his horse. He wouldn’t admit how much he liked it, either.

"You two are inseparable," he murmurs, stepping closer. His hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers as you both stroke Honey's mane, "I swear, sometimes I think you love that horse more than me."

You laugh, giving your horse one last pat before turning to Joel. "Are you jealous?" 

Your head tilts, eyes as wide and vulnerable as they always were with him.

“Not when you look at me like that,” Joel explains, his hand cupping your chin as his thumb rubs against the point of it, the corners of your mouth tugging upwards as Joel mirrors that same admiration, a playful glint in his eyes as you pucker your lips and kiss his thumb, keeping your eyes on him, “boy, you are really pushin’ it today.”

It was silly to think about now, but a few months prior Joel wouldn’t even allow himself to touch you like this, despite the clear indication of how you felt and how he had ultimately fallen first, too scared to admit that he’d fallen for his old friend’s daughter, knowing your father despised everything that Joel was, it was a maze he didn’t know how to navigate.

He still felt lost on most days.

Joel’s Ranch, Five Months Ago — Flashback:

Mornings were sacred on Joel’s ranch - a beautiful sunrise etched out over the hills and through the trees, animals rousing from their sleep, and a silence that reminded you of a simpler time.

Usually you found Joel up this early, nursing a mug of coffee in his hands as rocked in the old chair on his porch, eventually finding the courage to join him after a while, when it didn’t hurt to bend down to his level, taking a seat on the deck near his legs and sipping at your own drink of choice, talking through your pain level on whatever particular day it was.

Your fondness has grown over shared meals and proximity; seclusion, too.

It was you and him, months alone aside from Tommy’s occasional visit.

Maybe it was inevitable—that your injury served a purpose.

You always tried to find a reason to excuse your own mistake, a moment of hesitation that cost you an entire year of your newfound career, excitedly filling in for Joel in his departure. 

It couldn’t have been for nothing.

You felt her heart skip a beat as his footsteps approached, his gaze warm as it descended upon you, peering over your shoulder to be met with a tired smile.

The morning sunlight caught the silver in his hair, and you found herself admiring the lines around his eyes - evidence of a life filled with both laughter and hardship.

"Good mornin’," Joel's voice was a low rumble, softened by the early hour, “something botherin’ you?”

“Why do you ask?” You chirp with a soft laugh, narrowing your gaze in a manner to intimidate. 

Joel smirks half-heartedly, “It’s a good place to think,” He notes, “so—what is it?”

“Can I ask about my dad?” You start hesitantly, not sure how sore of a subject it was for him.

“Whaddya wanna know, sugar?”

“I want your side,” You wanted honesty, not half-truths, “did you cut him out of the deal?”

“He cut himself out,” Joel explains without skipping a beat, “we were partners for a long time, couldn’t have imagined doin’ all I did without him before he turned on me, but it was good money, security—it put Ellie and Sarah through college.

“He’s a sell-out,” If there was any time for your father to disparage Joel Miller, he would, “runnin’ off to Florida and taking some big deal, that shit ain’t right—it’s selfish.”

Joel had never meant to turn his career into entertainment, competing in circuits at a professional level before his body started to take a toll, eventually earning the Old Timer moniker and booking shows around the surrounding cities of Texas before touring the country.

If you were involved in rodeo, or even caught a whiff of it in the media, you knew who the Old Timer was. And even with him gone, you can feel your father looming.

The echoing mantra of his words in your head as you remember watching Joel perform with Buttercup, a long-established Bronc with his own exuberant personality to match Joel’s more subdued one, a perfect balance. 

Ain’t nothing out there you won’t experience here in Austin. 

You weren’t sure where the animosity stemmed from until now—it was a clear path he had pictured for himself and you, riding out the rest of your career in Texas, even as you were starting to climb the ladder as one of the more notorious female riders, still just a whisper for most people, living in the shadow of your father for so long.

“He’s stuck in his ways and that’s not sayin’ I’m any different, but I don’t regret signing that deal for a better way of livin’—a easier way, it got me all of this,” He throws his arms out lazily, property that stretched for miles, a place where he’s come to offer a camp for young riders to learn the ropes and get comfortable around the animals in a safe environment.

But, it was also home.

It was a surprise waking up one morning to a yard full of kids, a handful no older than ten or eleven, showing how easily Joel molded into the teaching role in such a relaxed environment.

You weren’t sure if that was when your feelings for him had evolved or if it was during the early weeks of being injured when Joel would sit with you bedside almost every night, either reading or working on his crosswords like it was religion, glasses perched on his nose as he moved with every subtle twitch you would make, worry etched on his face.

It was a mix of both and more, countless times you’ve found yourself at a loss for words.

“If he knew,” You pause, chewing at your bottom lip with worry, “if he knew—that I was here, that I turned down his help to come to you, Joel, I don’t know how he would react,”

“There ain’t a single reason he needs to know,” Joel assures you, “I’m sure he’s said a lot about me and some of it is probably true, but you deserve a place you feel safe.”

You nod, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. 

Joel's words sink in, and you realize just how much you needed to hear them. The weight of your father's expectations, his dreams for your future, had been suffocating you for far too long.

"Thank you," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the soft whinnying of horses in the nearby stables, and your words linger, like you’re holding back, “I do—I do feel safe…”

Joel hums, turning his body toward you more, his elbow meeting the railing of the ring.

“But?”

“You have to know,” You begin, heart constricting with nerves, a surge of adrenaline rushing through your veins as Joel looks at you, all of you, that familiar full body glance that you’re not even sure he realizes he’s doing, “it’s more than just safety, Joel.”

"I reckon I do know," he says, his voice low and gravelly, still thick from sleep. "Been knowin' for a while now."

The words hang in the air between you, heavy with meaning and possibility. Uncertainty.

“I feel stupid,” You laugh away the sudden embarrassment, face heating as the silence grows, “fuck I’m—I’m only a couple years older than the girls and you were helping me with my math homework while trying to teach them how to tie their shoes. It’s wrong, isn’t it?”

“Seems to me like you’re an adult capable of making her own choices,” Joel decides.

You feel a flutter in your chest at Joel's words, at the implicit acceptance in them. 

Your eyes meet his, searching for any sign of hesitation or doubt, but you find only warmth and a hint of something deeper, enticingly haunting.

"I've been making my own choices for a while now," you say softly, not realizing the instinctual gravitation toward him until his chest is pressing into your shoulder. "Some good, some...not so good. But, coming here? It was the first choice I’ve made for myself that felt right."

“It always needs to feel like that, sweetheart.”

Austin, Texas — Present Day:

Joel tightens the belt at your waist, the leather stiff from lack of wear. You’ve only worn the uniform a few times for fittings, a brightly colored shirt and riding pants to match, which were still hung on the rack behind Joel. 

He takes a moment to tug at the leather to assure it was secure before he drops down to his knees, catching you by surprise with a bubble of laughter slipping past your lips.

“Joel, what are you doing?”

He shrugs, pressing featherlight kisses along the top of your thigh while his hand drags along the back, hooking behind your right leg as he brings your knee to his mouth, his lips pressing over the jagged but healed scar.

You find yourself overcome with unexpected emotion, throat burning with the threat of impending tears, the moment holding still as Joel looks up at you.

Joel’s Ranch, Four Months Ago — Flashback:

It was intended to be a simple task, filling the troughs with water as you both lugged the buckets to each individual pen, narrowly escaping Joel’s increasingly boyish behavior as he fills the trough up halfway before he’s tossing the rest of the water at you, gasping at the cold, frigid temperature of it.

“You ain’t smiled today,” Joel reminds you, suddenly sheepish as you realize how big the grin on your face has grown, wasting the rest of the water to return the wet favor, tossing the bucket on the floor before you decide to make a run for the house nearly at the door before you slip on a slick spot of mud.

Squealing, your arms flail out—you accept your fate, arms bracing behind you as you wait for the impact, but instead you’re caught by two thick arms wrapping under and around you and your breath catches as you find yourself pressed against Joel's broad chest, his strong arms holding you securely.

Your heart races with an anxious stir of emotions, interlaced with excitement, suddenly very aware of how close your bodies are. Joel aids you back to your feet, shoving him away playfully as you snake your way out of his arms, trying your hardest to seem upset even though you weren’t.

“Careful,” Joel warns, “can’t have you injuring yourself any worse, you’ll be takin’ up a permanent residence here.

“Would it be so bad?” You ask curiously, a hint of teasing to your tone, “I think you like the idea of keeping me here, all to yourself.”

His eyes echo his earlier words. Careful.

The restraint he shows day by day amazes himself with how hard you’ve tried to break him down, some guilt surrounding his own growing feelings, ashamed with how strong they’ve become.

“Where’s your manners, anyways?” You ask, “You get a girl all wet and you can’t even invite her to dinner or kiss her first? And I thought you were a gentleman.”

Joel wasn’t intimidated by much in his life, but the way you see straight through him with ease—he’s helpless under your gaze, the grin on your face that follows is tortuous to his psyche.

“Oh, don’t hurt yourself, Joel,” You tease, poking at the damp fabric stuck to his chest, his eyes following the movement as you pull away and turn toward the house, “I’m just fucking with you.”

Joel snaps then, pulling at your wrist with a gentle tug, “Now, you ain’t gotta be so crude all the time, mouth like that’ll get you in trouble,”

Like this?

Joel sees the smug expression as it sneaks onto your features, his grip climbing higher until you’re at the lip of his front door and he’s got you crowded, pressing into the flimsy screen as he noses at your cheek like a wolf sniffing out prey, violently aware of how your hand squeezes into his wet shirt and pulls him closer.

“Just kiss me,” You plead, “fuck—please. Just do it.”

It was a craving so unnatural you ache, in your gut and chest, lips parting as your chin lifts in an effort to chase his hesitance. You’ve both been dancing around this for weeks.

Joel's resolve crumbles, his self-control shattering like glass.

With a low growl, he captures your lips in a hurried kiss, weeks of pent-up desire pouring out in a single, passionate moment. His calloused hands frame your face, holding you steady as he deepens the kiss, tongue seeking entrance between your lips.

And you melt instantly, fingers curling tighter into his shirt. It was everything you needed.

Rough but tender, his soft lips against your own with the satisfying scratch of his overgrown beard that tickled your cheeks and nose, hiccuping a breath into the kiss as he tilts your head up to meet his hungry mouth, each press more insatiable than the last. 

When you finally part, both panting for air, Joel rests his forehead against your own and allows his eyes to fall shut for a moment as you giggle, shaking slightly in his hold.

“Now, was that so hard?”

Austin, Texas — Present Day:

He’s got you imprisoned this way—body and soul, your hand shifting to rest at the crown of his head, curling into his hair, another gentle kiss before he’s leaning his cheek against the inside of your thigh and offering a gentle squeeze of reassurance.

“You plan on stayin’ down there, cowboy?”

Joel chuckles, shifting to hide his face into your thigh.

It’s a gentle tickle, his mouth against your skin, but it brings you immense comfort.

“We’ve got fifteen minutes,” You remind him, eyeing the clock overhead, “I think we can manage.”

He shakes his head with relaxed defiance, groaning quietly as he pushes to his feet again.

“Right—right, later. No distractions,” You repeat his earlier words, followed by a playful roll of your eyes, “You’re not making it easy, you know?”

Joel’s Ranch, Four Months Ago — Flashback:

Joel’s got you on a strict schedule lately once you’re cleared for training—breakfast, a workout, practice, lunch, repeat, only a few months out until your inevitable return and he’s hammering the routine into your brain, which you appreciate, but a break would be nice.

The run-through was flawless this evening and you retired earlier, savoring the burning heat of water as it melted over your skin, dressed in a loose shirt and panties as you searched through your messy suitcase of clothes and the pile that has grown over time with your extensive stay, down on your knees.

It wasn’t always this easy, depending on Joel for nearly everything in the beginning of your stay.

He was showering in his room simultaneously, or so you thought.

Joel spotted your hat about halfway through the living room, resting on a post outside.

His chest is still wet, jeans unbuttoned but snug on his hips as he strolled barefoot outside and retrieved the item, knowing that you hardly parted with it, it was a strange sight.

You pause in your rummaging, sensing a presence behind you moments later.

Turning, your breath catches at the sight of Joel standing in your doorway, hat balanced on his head as he leaned against the frame and smiled, the muscles in his arms conforming to the stretch and pull as he crossed them, tanned skin glistening with the few droplets of water still lingering.

“Found your hat,” Well, one could only suspect.

You stand slowly, acutely aware of how little you're wearing. "Thanks," you murmur as you make your way toward him, reaching for the hat. Your fingers brush as he hands it over, his own molding around the crown of the hat, bottom side up.

Joel doesn’t let go immediately like you’re anticipating, “I think you deserve a weekend off,”

“No,” You argue instantly, “I’m finally getting comfortable with the routine, I don’t need a day off.”

Joel’s face scrunches up in with a lack of belief in you words, tilting his head with narrowing gaze, “Now, that’s something only a person who needs a day off would say,”

“Joel, no,” You put your foot down, finally prying his fingers away from the hat, seeking a few inches of space from his bare chest and the unbearable heat that radiates from his frame.

While your admission of feelings had led him to be less reserved with the way he approached your or talked, more touchy during practice and at night while you both cuddled up on the couch and watched some old western you could care less about—Joel really loved them, though, so that had to count for something.

He makes you nervous, anticipatory of his next move, waiting for him to put your misery and break the metaphorical seal over your relationship—if you could even call it that, but it never happened. It would have to be you, a choice you made entirely on your own.

Your heart races as you take a step back, clutching the hat to your chest like a shield.

Joel's eyes follow your movement, a flicker of something indecipherable crossing his face before he schools his expression back to that easy, warm smile. It’s subtle, but there.

"I get it," Joel levels, "You're afraid of losing momentum.”

You shrug, unsure if that was fully true.

“C’mon,” Joel beckons, uncrossing his arms to offer his hand, your eyes following it with hesitance.

Joel chuckles to himself and pulls the hat from your grip before placing it on your head, fingers circling your wrist before they trail toward your hand and lead you toward the kitchen, through his expansive living room until he’s guiding you toward one of the few barstool, silently ordering you to sit down.

Almost immediately, he squats behind the island to rummage through the liquor collection he kept stored away for the occasional celebration or nightcap, avoiding it mostly out of preference while you trained, but he’s sliding a glass of whiskey over before you can fully piece together what he’s doing, rounding the counter with his own glass in hand.

“Happy early birthday to me, I guess,” You joke before taking a small sip of the whiskey, knowing your 22nd birthday was on the horizon but enjoying the reaction as Joel’s face contorts through phases—first confusion, then fear, before he’s attempting to pull the glass from your grip as he realizes his mistake

You giggle and stretch the glass out of reach, “Oh, calm down—I’m old enough to drink, Joel. Old age is really getting to you, isn’t it? I didn’t celebrate last year because I was so focused on the show, but we all know how that turned out,”

“You’re tryin’ to kill me, aren’t you?” Joel asks, downing the rest of the liquid in one go.

He’s drifted closer now, palm pressed into the counter beside your arm, his free hand rising up to tip the brim of your hat up, your bottom lip pulling between your teeth with an impish gaze.

“I’m just so young and impressionable,” You feign innocence, “I blame you.”

Joel's eyes darken, a mix of amusement and something more intense swirling in the depths of brown. Holding his eyes, you slide the glass against the counter and reach for your hat before placing it back on his head, a little on the snug side but still wearable.

“Kinda like it on you better,” You decide, adjusting the brim before your fingers trail toward his shoulders and settle there, feeling the muscle underneath twitch as he laughs, though you find yourself deadly serious and sincere, no longer meeting his eyes as yours trail toward the patch of hair at the center of his chest and down, a solid wall of muscle follow—Joel wasn’t defined, but he was large, intimidatingly so. When he wasn’t riding, he was building, working with his hands, lifting and moving things around the ranch, it was mouthwatering to watch.

“Eyes up, sugar,” He warns, not realizing how dangerously low your hands had trailed before your fingers were folding over the open seam of his jeans and how blatantly obvious it was that Joel wasn’t wearing anything underneath and how his cock had swelled slightly with your proximity and innocent touches.

You feel a rush of excitement as your fingers brush against the warm skin just beneath the waistband of his jeans. Joel's breath hitches, his hand moving to grip your wrist firmly.

“But, you’re—”

Joel shakes his head dismissively, “Can’t help that part—bein’ around you ain’t easy lately.”

In any other circumstance you would take those words harshly, but you can see the pain on his face, the self-restraint he’s holding himself to.

“I can—we can,” You offer, legs spreading on their own as you turn toward him, fitting him between your thighs as you lean into him, “I mean—it isn’t like you’ll be stealing my virtue. I’m not that innocent, Joel.”

Joel's grip on your wrist tightens, his jaw clenching as he struggles to maintain control. 

You can see the conflict in his eyes—desire warring with his sense of propriety.

Impatient, you surge upwards, pressing your lips against his with a hunger he hasn’t seen from you before, taking advantage of his parted mouth and dragging your tongue across his top lip, feeling the restrain in the way he kisses you back subdued with his hesitant touch.

“Think about—what you’re—askin’ for,” Joel interrupts through hurried kisses, his hand curling around the side of your neck to push you back, “What this’ll mean for you.”

“I think you should fuck me,” You respond crudely, “besides—you kissed me first.”

His resolve wavers, and you seize the opportunity. 

Your free hand slides up his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm. Joel's eyes flutter closed for a moment, a soft groan escaping his lips at the indecent sight of you looking up at him, lips parted on a breath and eyes wide with desire.

Joel never made great choices, only what felt right in the moment.

And somehow, it has led him here.

“We shouldn’t,” He says softly, “s’just another distraction.”

“My mind has never been more clear, Joel,” You argue.

Joel’s resistance is weakening quickly and with a low growl, he’s capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his hand leaving your wrist to grip your hip with a natural possessiveness, the same touch he lends while you’re riding, not an entirely different circumstance, but the intention is loud. You moan into his mouth, arching against him as his fingers dig into your flesh.

“Slow down, cowboy,” You tease, flicking at the hat, your laugh breaking through the tension as Joel parts for a brief second, watching your fingers fold around the hem of your shirt, “help me?”

It’s devious, you know, he knows it. 

But, he listens.

The moment your shirt is thrown to the floor, Joel’s jaw slackens.

Instinctually, his thumb drifts over your nipples, circling the areola before he’s using the full expanse of his grip to cup your breasts, maneuvering the barstool until you’re leaning against the marble top, his lips latching onto your skin, tongue alternate as they circle the sensitive buds.

He’ll repent later, much later.

A gasp escapes you when he grazes his teeth against your nipple, sending a spark of pleasure through your body.

"Joel," you breathe, arching into his touch. He hums against your skin, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. He knew exactly what he was doing, hesitance out the window and replaced with newfound confidence.

His hands slide down your sides, rough calluses catching on your soft skin as he explores every inch of you. When his fingers reach the waistband of underwear, he pauses, looking up at you for guidance and surety. 

You nod eagerly, lifting your hips in time with his tug, pulling the damp fabric down your legs and leaving you bare. The cool air hits your heated skin, making you shiver with anticipation. Joel's eyes rake over your naked form, hunger evident in his eyes.

And you learn quickly that his skilled hands and fingers aren’t entirely for show, two fingers to start as they push inside of your cunt, head tilted back into his empty hand as he watches you carefully - the quickened breath as he curls his fingers, eyes fluttering shut when he reaches a sensitive spot deep inside of you, gasping for air while he brushes it once, twice, until you’re nothing but a sobbing mess, crying out his name until you come over his fingers, the butt of his palm pressed against your clit for added measure.

“She loves me, don’t she?” Joel teases, the gall of that man.

You offer a pathetic sound of acknowledgement, Joel's eyes never leaving your face as you come undone, drinking in every gasp and shudder. As your climax subsides, he slowly withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips. His tongue darts out, cleaning up the mess you’ve made, his chest rumbling with a deep groan.

You’ve had enough.

You reach for his jeans, fumbling weakly as you push them down, desperate for as much of him as you could consume—all of him, preferably.

His arousal is evident as you rid him of his jeans, watching as he kicks away the tangled mess to fit himself between your spread legs, his cock bobbing freely against his stomach, thick and heavy against your thigh as you pull him closer. You wrap your hand around his cock, stroking slowly, reveling in the way his breath hitches and his hips buck involuntarily.

"I’m good," You assure him without elaborating, guiding him towards your entrance—you could talk later, too desperate to feel him inside of you.

Joel hesitates for a moment, searching your eyes. Whatever he sees seems to convince him, both of your breaths holding as he presses inside with slow, hesitant thrusts.

The sensation steals your words, knowing just by the sight of him that it would be pushing what you were used to, and no fumbling hands either, sure in every touch he laid upon you.

The way he squeezed at your hip and curled his other hand around the back of your neck, protecting you from the hard edge of the counter before he’s slinging your arms over his neck and nearly knocking the barstool to the floor as he leans into you, his hips picking up in their intensity as he listens to your body and your voice, distant and soft but there, floating in some ethereal plane of pleasure.

Your fingers dig into Joel’s shoulders, moaning at how he fills you in the most satisfying way, amiss to the bite of the counter in your back as the chair creaks and rocks with Joel’s hurried movement, breath hot against your neck where he’s buried himself.

“Jesus, sweetheart,” He sighs, mouthing his way to your ear, hissing at the sting of your grip and with that his thrusts become deeper, more forceful— each one pushing you further over the edge. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, wanting more.

Joel’s lips find yours frantically, in desperation as he groans, a low rumble that seeps into your own mouth, “Gonna gimme one more,” He tells you,

You nod fervently, barely able to form words as Joel's movements grow more insistent.

His hand slips between your bodies, finding that sensitive bundle of nerves and circling it with a precision that leaves you breathless. The dual sensations of his thick length filling you and his skilled touch on your clit quickly push you towards the precipice.

“Good, good,” He coos, soothing your weak cries with his mouth as your voice muffles under his guise, kissing you soundly, “go on—let go for me,”

His words push you over the edge and you come undone while Joel follows, burying himself deep inside you with a guttural moan, coming forceful and deep, fucking his spend deeper inside of you as reality resurfaces too soon.

“You alright?” Joel asks almost immediately, slipping out of you with a soft grunt.

The barstool creaks ominously as you adjust yourself and Joel chuckles.

“Probably not the sturdiest spot for that,” He jokes, thankful for the levity as he helps you stand, unsteady on your legs and held up by his firm grip, “I’m blamin’ you for that one.”

The grin it brings out of you is worth the slight discomfort you feel.

You shrug, nonchalant and admit defeat, “Guilty,”

Austin, Texas — Present Day:

He’s not supposed to be here.

There was always a plan, something tucked away in his back pocket.

This time it was the element of surprise and a mix of fear, eyes landing on him for the first time since he rushed onto Joel’s property, half-cocked and throwing out demands where he had no position or right.

He knows what he’s doing, eyes locked with yours from several feet away.

“Guest speaker?” Joel asks, the words biting as they leave his mouth, “Seriously?”

“It’s okay,” It was a mantra to yourself mostly, but Joel hears you, “I know what he’s trying to do—it won’t work.”

“You say the word, I’ll take care of it,” Joel promises.

You smirk slightly, rubbing your hand against his cheek and offering a reassuring squeeze.

“Easy, cowboy,” You offer lightheartedly, “I can handle myself.”

Joel’s Ranch, Two Months Ago — Flashback: 

You knew he’d figure it out eventually.

For a while he believed the lie—that you had been transferred to a beautiful place in Florida that dealt with injury and rehabilitation for your line of work and he accepted that, kept his distance.

He almost followed through on his reconciliation with Joel, that is, until he sees you at his side.

It was such a natural moment for the both of you now, Joel’s arm slung around your waist as he pulled you in, lips pressing against your temple before you both called it for the day, Honey’s head slipping between your hands as she noses at your head, suddenly whining at the shadowed intruder as he grew close.

At the sound of his voice, you fade away. 

You’re still here, standing, but Joel’s protectiveness jumps out instantly.

The words were loud and harsh, but the moment you snap back is as your father’s hand squeezes at your bicep and yanks you forward, immediately met with resistance. 

“I forbid it,” He shouts, “whatever brainwashin’ you’ve done to my kid, it’s over.”

“Forbid it?” You counter, “Do you hear yourself?”

“Always liked makin’ a show of things,” He sounds bitter, he is, “come on, we’re leaving.”

“No,” You tell him, voice unrecognizably strong, “I’m finally doing something for myself.”

Your father's face contorts, a mix of anger and betrayal etched into every wrinkle. He takes a step forward, his voice lowering to a dangerous growl. "For yourself? You think leaving everything behind and letting him influence you is for yourself?"

Joel shifts behind you, a ghosting of his fingers against your back but you don’t waver.

"Yes, for myself," you say, shocked at the steadiness in your voice. “I deserve a chance to figure things out my own way, I don’t have to follow the same path you did.”

Your father scoffs, shaking his head. "Your own way? You don't even know what that means, honey. All we built together, you’re ready to throw that away for him—”

"We?" you interrupt, feeling a surge of frustration. "You built that, Dad. I was a kid, I did what I was told.” It was clear he still saw you as a young girl, his protege, destined to take over after he was gone and carry on the legacy.

The silence that follows is deafening. 

Your father's eyes narrow, searching your face as if seeing you for the first time. You weren’t the same young girl who stared at him wide-eyed, amazed by his ability to wow the crowd and commit to everything he did. The disappointment in his gaze morphs into something else—hurt.

“I’m not gonna sit and wait around if he breaks your heart,” Your father tells you, “let alone how inappropriate it is—you try justifyin’ that to the public. I see what this is and what you did.”

His eyes land on Joel.

Fortunately, he couldn’t be more wrong.

Austin, Texas — Present Day:

The truth was, no one cared.

You and Joel had created an amazing partnership with natural chemistry and it seared the crowds, grabbed their attention, all eyes on you when you finally took your run out in the arena.

It was weeks that had built to this, following through your routine almost masterfully and without missing a beat, ending with a flourish trick as you stood on Honey’s back for the hundredth time it felt like now, not a single waver in your movement and lasso’d the cowboy hat from the middle of the ring and yanked it in, placing it on your head before the crowd erupted in a loud cheer.

It was the feeling you had searched for since you were younger, fulfillment like no other.

Your father’s appearance couldn’t be further from your mind and as you dismounted Honey and took your bow, your eyes searched the side for the one face that mattered most. Joel's proud grin beamed at you from across the arena, his eyes locked on yours. 

In that moment, the roar of the crowd faded away and it was him.

Joel’s Ranch, One Month Ago — Flashback:

You feel guilty for the way your eyes linger on his back as Buttercup trots around the ring, distracted and smiling to yourself as you step onto the railing and lean over with your forearms.

“Focus,” Joel chirps, “c’mon—put on your best voice.”

You clear your throat dramatically and lower your tone a bit, fighting through the giggles.

“You know him, you love him,” You bellow from deep in your chest, “It’s Old Timer!”

Joel chuckles, “That was horrible, baby.”

“So what?” You shrug, “I know him, I love him—point proven.”

It was rare to get a glimpse of Joel like this, back in his element as you watched him run-through your routine without all the flair, offering a slightly different view—though, he knows it won’t help.

You were barely focused on the routine, preoccupied with how easily Joel could capture a room like this, noticing your glossed over gaze as he finishes and hops off his horse, walking over with a knowing smirk.

"You weren't paying attention at all, were you?" Joel teases, his voice low and intimate.

You feel a heat creep up your neck as you meet his gaze.

 "I was... distracted," You admit sheepishly.

His smirk softens into a tender smile. "By what, exactly?"

“Not Joel,” You clarify, grabbing hold of his collar as you pull him close, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to his cheek, “I like it when you ride, Old Timer.”

“All I gotta do is hop on a horse to make you swoon?” Joel asks, the skin around his eyes crinkling with the emotion as he blushes at the affection.

“Among other things.”

“Done and done, sweetheart.”

-

divider graphics: @saradika-graphics <3

[feral4daryl]

need a part 2 of sweet scent with pervy daryl trying to explain it to you but you couldn't get it cuz you'd never done anything like it so he says he's gonna show you how good it feels and has to muffle your screams so no one in the house hears you as his cock practically splits your tiny cunt in half and he uses his thumb to rub ur clit to try and make u relax.........

I'm crazy but I'm free

masterlist and other infos || MDNI

sweet scent pt2.

perv!daryl x innocent!fem!reader

summary: after getting caught sniffing your panties by you, daryl persuades you into giving your precious virginity away to him while your dad's just in the next room.

warnings: EXTREME AGE GAP (daryl's is in late 30s/early 40s and reader is 18 [or older, it's up to you]), 18+ smut, praising, dubcon? (reader lacks enthusiastic consent at first and daryl has to do some convincing), panty gagging, p-in-v, blowjobs, cunnilingus, masturbation, manipulation, petnames, daddy kink, orgasm denial, mentions of dumbification, mentions of degradation.

word count: 6.2k

a/n: the following content contains some extreme fetishes and kinks that some readers might find disturbing, so if you're not comfortable with any of those, please do not proceed. click here to read part 1.

<previous chapter>

[...] His movements got slower until they stopped and he let go of his now sensitive cock. He sighed after catching his breath. he was left with that afterglow and the feeling that he made a huge mistake. suddenly, he felt dirty like before. He opened his eyes slowly, removing your panties from his face and putting them in his pockets. yeah, he knew it was wrong, but he was still planning to keep them for later.

Then, when he averted his gaze to the mirror on his side, he saw...

You. Standing on the doorframe with a shocked look on your face.

"U-uncle Daryl?"

---

Shit.

You definitely weren't what Daryl expected to see when he opened his eyes, the remains of his freshly busted nut all over his hand and his cock out, fully on display. For a good 5 seconds, he just freezed, completely unsure of what to do. But then, it hit him. He freaked out.

His eyes got as big as they possibly could and he immediately pulled his cock in his pants back again, clumsily trying to regain his composure, taking a little longer than usual due to his nervousness. Meanwhile, you just stood there with an unreadable expression. You didn't look exactly shocked, or angry, or anything like it. You looked strangely curious, with your head slightly tilted to the side.

Daryl shook his hand to get rid of some of his essence that was still sticking to it and then rubbed it on the side of his pants, on the hip area. Still not capable of looking you in the eyes, he quickly glanced at your frame and finally broke the awkward silence.

“Y/N? W-What'r'ya doin' here?” Stuttering was very unusual for Daryl, considering that although he was a man of very few words, he was always very direct and precise with them. Maybe playing it cool as if you hadn't just caught him in the act was the way out of that unpleasant situation.

“Well...” You let out a small chuckle and took a step closer to him. “This is my room.” His awkward smile immediately faded away.

“Oh, uh... I was jus’...” He looked around the room, searching for anything to use as an excuse for being there. But before he could start, you interrupted him.

“I didn't leave with the others, daddy told me to stay here to take care of you. He's in his room.” Your sweet girly voice had a way of calming Daryl, making him a bit more relaxed despite the current scenario and the shame he was feeling. But at the same time, just hearing you enunciate that one little word 'daddy' had him taking a deep breath to control his urges and not have another erection right there and then. You said that so innocently, because, well, it was in fact innocent since you referred to your actual father Hershel, but still, Daryl's twisted mind made it sound suggestive in his head.

“Take care'a me?” He pondered. Daryl wondered why your reaction was so calm considering what you had just witnessed. Maybe you didn't see much.

“You know, somebody's gotta change your bandage.” You smiled and pointed to his head that still had the bandage around it. “Actually, can you step to the side a bit? So I can...” You gestured to the dressing table behind him. He didn't say anything and just did as you said, moving to the side a little so you could approach the piece of furniture. In that moment, Daryl was the definition of what they call a standoffish.

“I was expecting to find you in your bed, resting. As you should, uncle Daryl.” Your voice carried a hint of playfulness along with a sincere worry. But the way you called him uncle for the second time that day gave him mixed sensations. He wasn't sure if he was aroused or weirded out by it. Or both.

You extended your hand, meaning to pull the drawer open to collect the items needed to change his bandage, which included the gauze, antiseptic wipes, medical tapes, sterile dressing and other kinds of medical stuff your dad had taught you how to handle, but you had to stop your hand midway when you noticed a white slimy thing dripping down the furnishing.

He followed your eyes, noticing how stared at the liquid. The farmer's sweet young daughter had just noticed the results of Daryl's arousal while it coated the dressing table. His mind started rushing with apprehension, you could tell your dad and everyone else how much of a perverted old man Daryl actually was, and he could be kicked out of the group, being left alone in the woods to fend for himself. It's not that he wasn't capable to make it on his own, but his family was important to him, he didn't wanna lose them over that type of thing that could change the way they looked at him forever.

“What's this?” You bended your knees a little, leaning forward and squinting your eyes to take a better look at the unknown substance. Now, you had completely forgotten the reason why you came into that room that was changing his bandage. Daryl lifted one of his eyebrows out of confusion. Did you really not know what that was? If that was the case, it kind of made sense.

Of course. Living on a farm far from the city, you had a close-knit relationship with your family in a way that they were pretty much all the people you would interact with. You had never had boyfriends, or kissed, or anything remotely romantic like that due to your dad's overprotectiveness, after all, you were his youngest daughter. All you knew about the existence of sexual stuff had been taught by him, when he mainly warned you about the terrible consequences of that type of action and that you had to stay innocent.

You didn't really know what he meant by all that, since he was very vague in his descriptions about sex. Hershel just used to say that there were certain areas on your body that you should never let a boy get near and you knew better than to disobey your father's orders, being aware that he always knew what was best for you. Not even your own hands had ever darted down your body to meet those spots more than once or twice before quickly pulling away. You wanted to remain innocent, whatever that meant.

But Daryl was the observant type, and he quickly caught up that you knew nothing about that type of thing. He knew you had always lived in that farm, away from the perverted hands of boys your age (or older like him) so connecting the dots wasn't tricky at all.

Oh, the things he could show you. That thought alone brought a somewhat creepy smirk to Daryl's face as he stared into the wall, contemplating the opportunity he had in hands to finally have his way with you. He knew he still had to be careful though.

“Daryl?” Your voice snapped him out of his trance. You turned your head to look at him before turning your entire body to face him. Your gaze was curious.

“This?” He motioned with his chin towards the dripping substance on the piece of furniture, looking out of place. “Ya don'... know wha' it is?” He double checked, wanting to make sure you were actually unfamiliar erotic nature of what you saw him doing.

“Well, I saw where it came from.” You revealed, not sounding accusing at all, just simply stating a fact.

“...How long 've ya been watchin' me?” He asked with an almost audible gulp. Though he was considerably excited about teaching you all that new stuff, he was still unsure if he should or not. It'd been so long since his last sexual interaction with someone else that he could barely remember it. And doing it with the daughter of the man that gave him a roof to put over his head in times like these? That was risky.

“A while.” You stated. Now, Daryl could notice how you started staring at his crotch area with a renewed sense of interest. That meant you had definitely seen his dick despite his efforts to hide it when he first got caught just moments ago. He wondered if you knew what it was or its purpose.

You stepped even closer to him and he couldn't help but step back slightly. “I've never seen somebody pee like that. Are you... Sick?” You raise an eyebrow. “The bathroom's just in the next room, you know...” Your worried tone was awfully adorable to Daryl. And well, he was indeed sick, but not in the way you meant it. Nonetheless, the amusing way you mistook his semen for urine made him share a light chuckle.

“Nah, tha's... Tha's not piss.” He bluntly let out. You walked across your room and over to your bed, sitting on its edge. Daryl followed you until he was standing in front of you. He crossed his arms.

“How so?” You tilted your head to the side with a sincere curiosity displayed on your face. You had seen the way he rubbed that one thing of his that you weren't sure how it worked until that slimy liquid started oozing out of it, deeply stimulating your curiosity.

“Ya sure ya wanna know?” His tone sounded more dark and his voice turned hoarser, however, that didn't seem to faze you. You nodded frantically. “Aigh', i'll show ya.” Once again, a smirk creeped onto his face. Your eyes were all sparkly as you attentively listened to him. “Sometimes people touch themselves ta feel good, ya know?” You shrugged, not really sure of what he was talking about.

As he spoke, he took light and slow steps towards you, like a predator preparing to hunt its prey, until his knees was almost touching yours. “Ya ever touched yerself, darlin'?” Despite the raspiness in his voice, it was now rather calm, with a surge of some sweetness to it.

“Like how?” You asked.

“Like here...” He extended his hand with a gentle movement, his finger tracing a path from the valley between your breasts down to your bellybutton. The slightly ticklish sensation made you flinch a little. Then, his finger continued making its way down to your lower belly, stopping inches above your clothed pussy. “'N here...”

Your breath hissed, and you started remembering how your dad told you those parts were sacred and shouldn't be touched by anyone, no matter who. The uncertainty was obvious in your face as you discreetly pushed his hand away. “Uncle Daryl...”

“Ya can call me jus' Daryl, sweetheart. 'M yer friend, remember?” He tried his best to sound convincing.

“Yes, Daryl...” You corrected yourself with an awkward chuckle. “I... I think I shouldn't.” You avert your gaze from his.

“Why not? Dontcha wanna know wha' it's like?” He leaned in a little closer, resting his hands on your thighs. You made a motion to try to push him away again, but he insisted on his touch. “Don' be scared, doll. 'M not gunna hurt ya. Quite the opposite.” He smirked while practically whispering the last part, making sure to sound extra coaxing.

You weren't really sure what you were afraid of, exactly. You just knew that you wanted to make your father happy and proud of you, since he'd always been so caring towards you and your family. In the end, you just wanted daddy's approval.

“I'm... I'm not sure. I don't know, it doesn't feel right.” You confessed, your voice filled with worry. Daryl knew how to be intimidating when he wanted to.

“'S okay, doll.” He spoke the way one would speak to a puppy. And giving you no time to protest, he used one of his hands to tug at the hem of your white tank top and pulled it up in one go, revealing your bare tits to him. He bit his lips, noticing you weren't wearing a bra. As quick as he did so, you felt so ashamed of your sudden nudity that you lifted your arms up to try to cover yourself up from his hungry eyes. “D-Daryl...”

“Shhhh...” He shushed you against your ear, making shivers run down your spine. Although you were uncertain, the way he spoke to you made certain parts of your body warm up, an unusual sensation for you. “Ya got such pretty tits... Ya shouldn't hide 'em away from me.” As he said that, he gently grabbed one of your breasts, giving it the slightest squeeze not to startle you. You couldn't help but let out a small squeak at the unfamiliar sensation. Weirdly enough, it felt good in a way you had never felt before.

“Ya like tha'?” He whispered. “It's nice, but... Daddy wouldn't like that. I just wanna make daddy happy.” You just wanted to be a good girl. Perhaps, you could find a different way of doing that.

“Yeah?” He muttered practically to himself as he got an idea. “Well, I can be yer daddy for today. Like tha', ya could make yer daddy happy in a way. Yer jus' gotta lemme lead ya, aigh'?” He didn't feel guilty in the slightest for making you engage in one of his twisted fetishes while you were barely aware of it.

“H-huh?" You were uncertain about the reason behind his suggestion.

“Ya can pretend 'm yer daddy.” He continued playing her mind. You weren't really sure if you liked the idea to depict him as your old man, but you tried to convince yourself to play along.

“But... What will he think of me when he finds out?” You fidgeted with your fingers. Meanwhile his grip on your breast continued to intimidate you.

“He don' have ta know. C'mon, dontcha wanna make daddy happy?” He conveyed in a hush against your ear, his thumb now grazing your sensitive nipple, making you feel that one funny sensation again. You couldn't help but lean into his touch.

You closed your eyes, darting your tongue out to lick your lips. The nervousness in you due to the newness of it all made your lips dry. The way Daryl was making you feel was curious, and you just wanted more of it. He took your silence as a confirmation.

“Good girl.” He cooed before capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, very gently sucking on it. The feeling made you arch your back instantly.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

You just wanted to be a good girl. And if following Daryl's lead was a way to do it, you were all in for it. Your senses awakened as a cascade of unfamiliar yet electrifying sensations coursed through you, a dance of pleasure that tingled on your skin. In that moment, a subtle warmth enveloped you, as if you had discovered a secret realm of bliss previously unknown.

You reached for his head, the feeling of your delicate fingernails scratching against his scalp and pulling him closer sent tingling sensations all over his body. Instinctively, you slightly opened your legs at the pleasure and that drew a smirk onto Daryl's face.

“Eager fer daddy, huh?” The way he referred to himself like that made a faint blush spread across your cheeks, although you couldn't wrap your head around the reason why. It felt so wrong but so right at the same time.

“I need ya to trust me, 'kay?” He said as he pulled your shorts down and then tossed them aside, revealing your white cotton panties. Once again, you felt to urge to hide, not knowing how to deal with someone else seeing you naked for the first time. But before your legs could involuntarily close, his big hands groped your thighs, keeping them spread apart. “'S okay, sunshine.” He practically manhandled you, gently but firmly pushing your body downward so you rested you back on the mattress.

The new position made you feel strangely vulnerable, but it wasn't exactly a bad feeling. Your doe eyes had a mix of unsureness and curiosity as they meet his. Sensing the mixed sensations within you, Daryl leaned in to place a small peck on your plush lips, aiming to make you more comfortable. The feeling of his rough lips against your soft ones so suddenly almost made you flinch, but they felt rather inviting. As he pulled back, a confident smirk could be seen displayed on his face.

The archer's rugged fingers traveled their way down your body once again until they found the soft fabric of your panties, making your breath hiss. He brushed his index and middle fingers against your clothed pussy lips. Just with that, the dampness was so obvious that a small wet spot could be seen on the cotton fabric right where your slit would be. He dragged his fingers across it until they reached your clit.

“This lil spot righ' here...” He kept his hand there. “...is magical." For now, he just added a small pressure, testing the waters and watching close to your reaction, but that was enough to draw a whimper from you, the unknown sensation making you grasp his forearm. It indeed felt magical. You bit your lips and though you couldn't see it, Daryl shared a satisfied smile at the way he was able to get you all hot and bothered with just a simple touch.

Your legs squirmed a bit and he took that as a good sign, so he continued. Now, he started slowly rubbing your clit in circular motions over the fabric of your panties. Your back arched again, and you accidentally let out a dangerously loud moan.

“Nuh-uh.” He brought his other index finger to his lips, gesturing for you to be quiet. “Ya gotta be quiet, ya hear me?” His tone was mostly reprimanding, which strangely excited you. You nodded, enjoying the authority he guided you with through those new sensations. You had touched yourself there before, but never like that. The sensation always felt somewhat wrong, but with Daryl, it was totally different.

You were still kind of upset at yourself for disobeying your dad, but the way Daryl worked his fingers so skillfully had you seeing stars. You never thought you'd be handing out your innocence for some old redneck you met just a while ago, but there you were, completely given to him.

In the beginning, Daryl used to always kind of avoid you, despite your attempts of trying to get to know at least a little bit about the mysterious archer. He knew that deep down, those desires towards you were always there, since the very first time he saw you. At first, he tried to brush them off, but now, all he wanted was to be the one to feel your tight virgin cunt for the first time.

In a swift motion, his big hands tugged at the hem of your underwear. “Up.” He ordered, gesturing for you to lift your hips so he could pull them down. You didn't argue at all and promptly did as he said, reveling in the control he had over you. It was like he dominated your weak mind. “Good girl.” He cooed once again. Oh, if only he knew what that did to your little inexperienced pussy.

After tossing the piece of fabric aside, he reached for you knees, gently spreading them apart. The sight of your glistening bare cunt had his mind rushing through all the things he could do to it. He wondered if he would be able to hold himself back and be gentle or if he would end up losing control. After all, he hadn't done anything like that in such a long time that his whole body was aching for it. He stared at it in an almost scary way, you'd never seen his eyes so hungry.

If his cock hadn't awaken until that moment, now it was hard as a fucking rock. He had to really fight the urges to pull it out his pants and dick you down right there and then, but he knew he had to take it easy on you at least for now and get you nice and ready for him, even though you were already visibly dripping wet.

“Is this all fer me?” His tone was almost mocking. You weren't sure what he meant by that, not fully understanding the concept of natural lubrication, but you just nodded with your eyes closed. Something about being in that position felt so right, so freeing that it had you wondering why you never did that before, and why you were so afraid of trying it in the first place.

Daryl's hands sensually traced their way down your body, exploring your every contour until they reached the back of your thighs, pushing them back until your wet cunt was all over his face. He tried his best to control himself, but his own arousal was practically taking over his mind, so he buried his face on it like a starving man. As soon as his wet tongue made contact with your sensitive little clit and he lapped at your abundant juices, you immediately gasped, gaining a look of disapproval from Daryl.

“I warned ya.” That was all he mumbled before taking your panties he had just took off you and sticking them into your mouth almost aggressively. You could taste yourself on the white fabric, and although it felt strange, it turned you on even more. Now, your little sounds were muffled by the piece of clothing as he resumed eating you out, flicking his tongue on hour clit and burying it between your folds. You never thought a feeling like that could actually exist as you experienced that overwhelming rush of pleasure, a novel sensation coursing through you sending shivers down your spine as a delightful warmth enveloped your entire being. You tried your best to hold back your sounds since your dad was home and could hear you if you slipped, but Daryl's skilled tongue and lips made it an extremely difficult task, even with your panties stuck in your mouth.

He continued working your clit with his mouth, and maybe a little sooner than it should, a tingling sensation forming in your lower belly caught your attention. Daryl noticed the obvious shift in your demeanor and took the panties out of your mouth so you could speak. “D-daddy...” You experimented the honorific he had previously suggested. “I-I feel funny.” You whimpered, squirming a bit harder than before as it started feeling as if you were gonna burst at any moment. Daryl smirked against your skin and gave your pussy a last peck before pulling away, making you whine in disapproval. It had only been seconds but you immediately missed the sensation. You craved it.

“Not yet, sweetheart.” He said. Not yet what, you wondered. But you still wanted to be good for him, so you nodded as the good girl you were. You couldn't think of anything you wouldn't do for him in that moment, considering how desperate you were to feel that pleasure again.

Your curious eyes followed his hands as they reached to unbuckled his own belt, setting it aside. He undid his pants and pulled them down just enough to reveal his boxer briefs to you. There. There was the place where you saw that sticky white thing shooting out from. Now, the excitement in you was unbearable as you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch his movements closely. Your eyes visibly lighted up and that didn't go unnoticed by Daryl.

“Yer gunna love this, lil' girl.” He bit his lips. Something was very obviously bulging in his boxers, which you found odd since it didn't seem to look so obvious when it was in his pants even though now it looked so big. Either way, you were completely drawn to it. You glued your eyes to his crotch while he pulled his underwear down.

You had heard about it, but you had never actually seen one of those before. In the aftermath of the apocalypse, his pubic hair had grown wild and untamed, a reflection of the makeshift survival and the absence of the once routine grooming practices. Not that he used to care a lot about that kind of thing before the outbreak. In a way, you thought it looked charming, suiting his rugged looks and personality.

You could feel your mouth starting to water at the sight of his cock standing tall and proud in front of you. Since the archer had touched his mouth to your cunt, you wondered if you could do the same to him in that same area on his body. As if he could smell your thoughts, he brought a hand to your head, gently pulling you closer to his crotch while he held it by the base.

“Ya wanna have a taste?” He slyly suggested and chuckled at your frantic nodding. Leaning closer to it, you felt the musky and raw scent that emanated from it, which made you even more drawn to the possibilities that ran through your mind. But at the same time, you didn't know what to do or how to handle it.

Bringing his hand to his mouth, he collected some saliva from it and rubbed the wetness on the tip of his cock to lubricate it. “Gimme yer hand.” He reached out his hand, and instantly you complied, allowing him to direct it towards his cock. He enveloped your hand around it, keeping his atop yours, slowly starting to move it up and down. It felt warm and hard against your soft fingers, and the way he threw his head back and quietly groaned made your stomach churn with butterflies. “Fuck baby, tha' feels good.” He had to whisper due to the dangerous presence of your dad in the house threatening to put your little playtime to an end.

You smiled proudly at yourself. You liked the way he sounded and you wished to draw more of those grunts from his lips. And Daryl, being just as eager as you, removed your hand from his length, holding it by the base. His other hand found its way to the back of your head, his touch almost feeling impatient as he pulled you closer to his cock. “Open yer mouth.” He didn't have to tell you twice. Therefore, he guided his swollen tip to your awaiting tongue, smearing his salty pre-cum all over it. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best to hold back any compromising sounds.

Your lips instinctively closed around his tip, trying to mimic the way he sucked on your clit, aiming to make him feel as good as he previously did to you. The act not only gave him pleasure, but it also brought you a deep sense of satisfaction, making you hum against his sensitive skin. The vibrations from your vocal chords sent a chill through his body and he couldn't hold back this time, the warm sensation of your mouth being so tempting and promising that he pushed his hips forward a bit too much, causing it to hit the back of your throat and you to gag on it.

He immediately retracted his body, removing his cock from the velvety confines of your mouth. Your eyes got a little watery but you smiled either way. “Sorry, princess.” He said with a hint of awkwardness in his voice.

“It's fine, I liked it.” You confess, looking up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, sitting at the edge of the bed while he stood in front of you. Your innocent expression contrasting with the dirty nature of your encounter made him impossibly hornier, and he didn't feel like waiting any longer. “Fuck” He almost whined. Eagerness to feel you wrapping around him filled his body, so he grabbed you by the arms, not too rough so he wouldn't hurt you, and put on your feet against the pink wall of your room.

He brought a hand to your head, pressing it against the wall. You gasped a little at his roughness but soon you felt him brushing the tip of his cock on your slicky slit and clit. “'S gunna feel good, I promise.” He mumbled against your ear, making your body hair stand on end. The sensation had you biting your lips to try and not make any sounds, but your efforts were proven useless as you felt the pressure of his tip carefully going in your cunt, causing a burning sensation and you accidentally let out a loud cry.

Daryl's hand went immediately to your mouth, forcefully pressing his palm against your lips to muffle your sounds, your dad shouldn't hear Daryl using his sweet daughter in his own home after all. “Shhh, shhh.” He shushed you, resting his chin on the top of your head for a moment. You wrapped around him so tight even though he only had his tip in yet that he couldn't restrain himself from pushing his hips forward a little more, intensifying the burning sensation while he stretched your virgin cunt out.

“'S okay, ya can take it.” In that moment, you were confused at why he was making you feel so good just a moment ago, and now he's ripping your little pussy apart. But even though it hurt, it was somewhat pleasant to feel so full in such a new way, so you stuck your ass towards him, inviting him in. While still keeping his hand pressed on your mouth, he brought his other one to your hips, gripping them a little too tight.

Without warnings, he buried his entire length in you in one swift motion, filling you up to the brim and worsening the burning to a whole new level. The only thing that kept you from letting out a scream at the sudden invasion was his hand muffling your pathetic sounds and the fact that you'd be in deep trouble if your dad found out about that, but even so, Daryl couldn't help but quietly grunt at the intense sensation. He didn't know he missed fucking a warm cunt so badly until he was completely inhumed inside you. “Good girl. Yer being so good fer daddy.” He praised you. His words had an immediate effect on you, making your pussy even wetter, if that was even possible.

You didn't even care if it hurt or not anymore, so you just stood there, caught in the paradox of sensation — a mix of pain and pleasure etched across your face. The twinge felt like a sweet ache, and yet, an irresistible allure pulled her deeper into the experience, as if the discomfort held a hidden charm that she couldn't resist exploring.

Despite the pain, you found herself oddly drawn to the sensation, craving more as if the discomfort carried an inexplicable appeal that kept you coming back for another taste. So you slightly wiggled your ass against Daryl's body, moving his cock a little inside you. The feeling of being stretched out had you desperate for more.

Daryl's warm breath hit your ear as he let out a light-hearted laugh at your reaction, sending delicious goosebumps all over your body. His hips started going back and forth to meet yours in a sensual dance. He tried to be gentle at first, but your virgin cunt was just so wet and warm that he couldn't help it but succumb to his primal desires. “Jus' like tha', princess. Take this fat cock.” He whispered loud enough so only you could hear, making you weak in the knees.

His calloused hand let go of your hips to find your clit, starting to rub it with just the right pressure to make you squirm under his touch. The mixed sensations of intense pleasure and pain confusing your brain, making you melt like putty in his hands. Overwhelming waves of pleasure surged through you, leaving your head blissfully empty as if every thought had been swept away by the sheer intensity of the sensation, which was exactly what Daryl wanted, to turn you into a brainless little fucktoy for him.

If a few months ago somebody told you that you'd be letting some perverted older man take advantage of you in your own room, you would've laughed right in their face. Giving your innocence away to anybody used to feel like such a distant reality, and now there you were, pressed against the wall by Daryl's sweaty body while he mercilessly pounded your no longer virgin cunt, making you experience the most pleasurable pain you could ever feel.

As he continued bucking his hips like a desperate animal, you drooled against his hand, your brain now reduced to putty due to the overpowering sensation that dominated your every sense. “Nngh...” Your muffled moans stirred an even deeper desire within Daryl, turning him as primal as one could be. Your body language made it obvious that you were close to your orgasm, and this time, he didn't plan to deny you of it.

But you had never experienced something like that. You didn't know pleasure could get so extreme that could made you burst, so as the sensation built and grew stronger, it also made you unsure about where it was taking you, and you tried to fight the feeling. Daryl's skilled fingers working your clit only threw you even closer to the edge and you felt like your legs could fail at any moment.

Noticing the shift in your demeanor, he muttered against your ear. “Jus' let it go, baby. Trust me, don' hold it.” His tone was strangely sweet considering what you were both up to, but his encouraging words relaxed you a little, and as he intensified the rubbing on your clit, you knew you wouldn't be able to hold it in not even if you wanted to, whatever it was.

Then, it hit you. An entirely unfamiliar and intense sensation washed over you, catching you off guard. It felt like uncharted emotional and physical territory, leaving you completely stunned, wide-eyed, and grappling with the unexpected intensity of the experience, something that almost made you mad at your dad from convincing you of staying away from it for so long.

Daryl had to intensify the pressure of his hand against your lips, but even so, he wasn't able to muffle your cries completely as your body convulsed and you were sure you lost consciousness for a few seconds. “Good girl, cum for me.” You didn't know what that word meant, but considering the situation, you understood that it probably had something to do with the new type of pleasure you just experienced.

As the orgasmic sensation slowly faded away, it was replaced with an even more overwhelming feeling of overstimulation. You squirmed even harder and you swore you could cry if he continued using your cunt like that, not giving you any breaks to catch your breath. You'd been turned into a whimpering and drooling mess, a total slut for his cock. You wanted him to have his way with you and you knew that if he wanted to, you'd let him fuck you all day without arguing.

The intense clenching of your tight pussy around his length initiated his own orgasm, and now it was his turn to experience the compelling feeling of being right on the edge of pleasure. “Fuck, turn 'round." He desperately voiced, but he didn't even waited for you before decisively grasping your shoulders, swiftly turning you to face him. As he did so, he removed his cock from inside you and stroked it hard and fast for a few seconds with just enough pressure to make himself burst.

Your mesmerized eyes watched as the pleasure took over his body. And now, it all made sense as he started shooting his load aiming right on your bare pussy, just as he was doing earlier today when you first caught him in your room. The warm sticky substance coated your cunt and it was so much that it felt like it would never end, leaving you astonished. You couldn't help but smile at the sight before you.

You two stared into each other's eyes while desperately trying to catch your breaths, sharing a small chuckle and satisfied smiles. He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead and now, you knew who to come up to when you feel that funny feeling in your lower belly again. You knew Daryl had what it took to take care of your needs.

Without saying anything else, he pulled his briefs and pants back up again, adjusting his clothes. Then, he reached for his pocket, pulling out those panties he had stolen earlier and putting them on you again, leaving his load smeary and sticking to your skin. “Leave it there.” He hoarsely voiced, ordering you to walk around with his cum inside your clothes while no one else knew of it except the both of you.

“And these...” He walked over to your bed and bended his knees a little so he could reach for the white cotton panties he had tossed aside right before railing you and put them in his pocket.

“...'M gunna keep these fer later.”

a/n: omg guys the first part of sweet scent got over 1.1k notes and that's like??? insane??? tysm for all ur support, that's crazy. it was so much fun to write both parts and i'm so thankful if you read it this far!! i hope y'all have a great and happy holidays xx

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[zepskies]

Hi Zep!! I love your writing so much!

How do you think Dean/Beau/ Ben would react to a surprise pregnancy and if the reader was unsure of keeping it?

Hi there! Aw thank you, anon. 💜

I know you asked me this a while back, but to be honest this is a touchy subject, so I wasn't sure if I wanted to answer it. All I can do is give my honest thoughts based on what I know of these three characters, with all their flaws and personality traits and humanity that goes along with that.

Headcanon: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to a surprise pregnancy.

(And if you weren't sure about keeping it.)

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff.

Dean Winchester

Once Dean gets past the initial shock, and the inevitable "how did this happen??!", he remembers just how he could've gotten you pregnant. Part of him wants to smile at the memory.

Good times.

He slowly realizes that he's...he's happy.

He never thought that he'd have any piece of "normal" after the way things ended with Lisa. Hell, he never thought he'd find what he had with you, let alone have a kid.

He hasn't told you this, because he's locked it deep within himself and hasn't allowed himself to open that door, but the part of Dean that considered what he would leave behind on this earth if he died--the part of him that wanted a family, is still there, beating in his heart. Maybe now he's finally getting his chance.

But he focuses on you.

He gauges your reaction, and his urge to smile falls away when he realizes you're more nervous and freaked out than excited.

Dean sits down with you, taking your hands to calm you down. He suppresses his own feelings on this for a moment, and he asks you the important question.

"What do you wanna do?"

You look up into his eyes, and you really don't know. The hunting lifestyle you both lead, how can you bring a child into this? Would that be right? Are you even ready to be a mom? Are you even capable?

"I don't know if I can..." you confess. "Dean, I don't know if I'm ready."

It breaks Dean's heart, though he tries not to show it.

For once, he thinks hard about what he's going to say next.

Eventually, he takes a deep breath and squeezes your hands.

"I get it," he says. "Whatever you want to do here, I'll back you up. But for the record, I'm right here with you. I might be screwed to hell in ways that I can't even...but I got no doubts about you, sweetheart. And I know we could do this together..."

If that's what you want. The rest is implied through his eyes. You read it there, clear as day.

You try blinking your tears away. When that fails, you sink into Dean's warm embrace and let him hold you. You press a lingering kiss against his prickly cheek in a wordless thank you. And I love you.

For now, you know that he's with you, and he's not going to let you go.

Beau Arlen

Like Dean, Beau would go through similar rounds of Oh, dear sweet Lord, and holy shit.

He thought you and him had been careful, damn it! But, apparently he's more potent than he thought he was.

For a few moments, it's just pure unadulterated silence between you two...until he looks over at you and tries to figure out what you're thinking.

He's got a half-grown daughter, sixteen going on seventeen. He's approaching his mid-40s. He hadn't even been thinking about the possibility of another kid...at least not yet.

Though he can admit, the thought of having kids with you makes him smile.

"So, uh..." he trails, earning your teary-eyed expression. He softens. "Aw, darlin'. Come 'ere."

He wraps you up in his arms and holds you close. You bury your face into his neck and sniffle, holding onto him tightly.

You love Beau. You truly, truly do, but you don't know if you're ready for this. You had plans, things you wanted to do, things you feel you have to do.

"I don't know, Beau. I don't know what to do," you admit. You don't want to hurt him, even though you know that you are. You can see it in his eyes when you pull back to look at him, though he tries to hide it.

"I'm not going anywhere. You know that, right?" he says. His voice is low and steady. He rubs your back to try and calm you down.

It starts to work. You nod and heave a shaky sigh.

Then you steel yourself, and you work past the fear making your chest tight to ask him an important question.

"What if I tell you that I'm not ready?" you ask.

For once in his life, Beau is quiet. He takes a long beat. So long that your heart begins to break.

But he does answer.

"Then I'd tell you...that I love you," he says. "That I'm with you. That I'll be with you, come whatever. But I gotta tell you...I got no problem being an old-ass dad. If I've got double-knee replacements in my future, then that's just what I gotta do. I'll break my hand building the crib and the porch swing. Hell, I'll build a whole damn tree house."

You can't help but break into giggles through your tears, in the way only Beau manages to accomplish. You stroke his cheek and rest easier against him.

Your heart eases quite a lot just being in Beau's supportive embrace.

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Ben isn't all that shocked when you tell him that you're pregnant.

His surprise quickly fades into a pleased grin, and he pulls you into his lap to kiss you. Fucking finally...

But he stops short, realizing that you're not as happy as he expected you to be. Actually, you look anxious, and even scared.

"What's the matter?" he asks, his voice deep and direct.

You hesitate to meet his gaze, but you gain the courage to do so, resting a hand on his chest.

"Ben, I wanted to be honest with you, and so I am. I'm just...I'm not sure about this."

His brows furrow. "What's not to be sure about?"

Your gaze drops from his, making him frown. Upset begin to rise in his chest, disguised as anger. When you rise to get off his lap, he grasps your hand to stop you from walking away from him.

"Hey..." But then it hits him. The realization dawns, and deep inside, it hurts him. "You better not be saying what I think you're fucking saying."

Tears begin to well up in your eyes. Your heart clenches tight in pain just watching him work it out in his mind. You try to tug your hand out of his.

"Ben, please. Don't make this harder for me--"

He stands, but doesn't let go of you.

"What, you think I won't take care of you? You think I wouldn't take care of my own kid?" he says angrily.

"That's not it!" you say, shaking your head. "I just need some time to think, for Christ's sake!"

"What's there to think about? If you give a shit about us, about what we have? What, all of that isn't fucking good enough for you?" Ben says incredulously, gesturing at the home you two live in, and the life he thought you were happy with. "What the fuck is the problem?"

You look up at him in frustration with tears in your eyes, slipping down your cheeks. You shake your head at him.

This," you say. "This is the problem."

This time, when you tug sharply against his hold, Ben actually lets you go. You walk away from him and slam the door to your bedroom.

Ben just stands there for a while. The silence is only broken when he can hear you in the bedroom, trying to muffle your weeping.

Something unsavory churns in Ben's chest, squeezing tight around his heart. It's the sting of regret, both unfamiliar and irritating.

Blowing out a sigh, Ben cards his fingers through his hair. He can either stand here like an idiot, or he can do something worthwhile.

He goes to you. You haven't locked the door (not that that would matter), so he opens it. He sees you burrowed under the covers, laying on your side away from him. You turn away from him again when he approaches.

Almost hesitantly, he sits down beside you, smoothing a hand over your hair.

"Sweetheart, you're gonna have everything you need. You don't need to worry about anything," he says.

"I told you, it's not about that," you say sharply. "It's not about money, or being comfortable."

Ben endeavors to be calm. He counts to five in his mind, then he squeezes your shoulder, taking pains to be gentle.

"Then what's it about?"

After a beat, you finally turn around to face him.

"I just don't know if I'm ready for this," you admit. "We haven't been together that long, and I..."

Ben shakes his head. He strokes your cheek with his thumb.

"Don't worry about that," he says. He hesitates to say anything more.

The truth is, he cares about you more than he's been willing to express. The thought of you leaving him, or even not going through with this pregnancy--both cut him down to the bone.

Is it that you don't trust him? Do you not trust yourself? He doesn't understand all of what's in your head, but if the reason you're not sure about having his kid really is because of him, then...

His curled fingers brush along your jaw and prop under your chin, until your eyes meet his.

"Look, whatever reservations you have about me, just know this," he says. "I'm not going anywhere."

You sigh softly. You know how long Ben has wanted to be a father. You know he wants a family. You don't want to take that away from him, but you also need to protect yourself.

You consider his words carefully, as well as his face, and you see that he actually means it. You believe him.

It doesn't take away other concerns you have, but it's a start.

You sit up in bed, letting the sheets slip away from you. You reach up a hand to cup his bearded cheek.

He lets you guide him down to kiss you, his arm wrapping around you strong, but noticeably gentle. Tears sting behind your closed eyelids.

Maybe he is ready to be a father, and a better man.

AN: 😮‍💨 This one was angsty, huh? I think Ben's part was the one that held me up the most. It still assumes he's had some character growth from having a "real," actually caring relationship, but I tried not to sugarcoat what I think his reaction would be.

Let me know what you think! 💜

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[peachie-bumblebee]

FNAF SECURITY BREACH NSFW HEADCANONS

MAIN 4

MINORS DNI

getting back to my ROOTS with this one!! hope my community is still out there- the dlc has brought back my love for the game :) i haven’t posted SB content in a LONG time so a reminder- I ONLY WRITE FOR CHARACTERS WHO PASS THE JACK HARKNESS TEST. They are OF AGE OR ABOVE, have HUMAN OR ABOVE INTELLIGENCE, and can VERBALLY GIVE INFORMED CONSENT. The SB animatronics are canonically sentient. None of the past ones are. okay- back to the content :D

CW: ONE PREGNANCY MENTION, KINK RELATED T0YS, SEMI-PUBLIC MENTIONS, DACRIPHILIA

GLAMROCK FREDDY

lord have mercy…

he’s the most virgin coded out of all of them. i’m sorry.

but do I think he’s a TOTAL virgin? no.

there are FREAKS out there (me writing this and y’all reading this-) who would 1000% show up to the pizzaplex just tryna get a piece of the fazballs

SORRY

he’s the type to silently get off in his dressing room and then get all embarrassed about it like there’s someone there to judge him

he’s an actual sweetheart in the sheets. he’s so so nice about everything. as we go down the list this DECREASES.

don’t push him too fucking hard tho. if you’re one of the ones who read my old fic Competition, you remember.

his fingers vibrate.

and so does that dick.

he’d turn it on inside of you and listen to you gasp before putting a hand gently over your mouth and hushing you.

he seems a lot like a gasper. maybe the occasional curse word coming out, but mostly praises of how good it feels.

i know he is a messy cummer. i’m right and that’s final.

he’d be absolutely humiliated after the fact and go get a wet washcloth asap, but it’s a very shocking amount anyway.

pregnancy isn’t a concern, but he’s still wary about cumming inside for some reason. he’s the type to make sure it’s okay like 3 times before he does it.

okay i lowkey think he’d be into getting handcuffed. i don’t know what handcuffs could genuinely hold him, but if you brought them out he’d be (figuratively) SWEATING

i think his eyes roll back when he cums. and i’m correct. eat me.

he’s the lead member but he’s humble about it… except a few times in bed. then he lets it go to his head(s). just a bit. ;)

if he was in a relationship he’d have a thing about his partner dressed in his merch

switch! but the most vanilla out of everyone- but remember, not completely.

…he’d eat his cum out of you.

no he is NOT gonna call you superstar during sex leave me ALONEEE

GLAMROCK CHICA

my biggest hc for her will and will always be that she has a MASSIVE toy collection. she is a toy girl. do i know how she gets them? not exactly.

but I DO know that they’re all pink and white and sparkly!

that doesn’t mean it’s all vanilla toys though (respect to the vanilla community but it is not me :) )

she does own a hot pink flogger and she WILL happily use it on a groupie or her partner.

she’s such a tease. she’s such a fucking tease jsghskbnsjh

doesn’t matter if she’s domming or subbing (60/40 ratio)

she’s a TEASE

and she giggles during sex

her whole bubbly pink happy girl thing doesn’t stop

she’ll put you in a bubblegum pink sex swing and use a big ass vibrator on you while giggling and telling you how cute you look

i know she likes pulling on nipples I KNOW SHE DOES

for those who used to ask- no, she can’t give head with her beak. and she’s not taking it off. sun/moon can’t give sloppy either BUT THEY MAKE IT WORK!

AND SHE DOES TOO!

she can fuck up the guitar with her fingers, what else do you think they can do?

she’s the type to pull you into a side room, hush you, finger fuck you, then send you on your way with a hug

i know for a FACT SHE WEARS A STRAP!

yes it IS glitter. it is also 9 inches.

and if you want more, she has more ways to give you that.

she’s also the type to get you front row tickets and put a remote control vibe in you so she can watch you squirm right in front of her.

she’s also a praiser, but there’s a lot of false sympathy in there too.

food aftercare. she wants to eat 3 pizzas with you. food is her love language

ROXANNE WOLF

YOU BETTER BARK LIKE YOU WANT IT!

she’s a dom. she just is.

god I miss that fic I wrote.

she’s so fucking cocky in bed. it’d be insufferable if she wasn’t so hot and so good at sex.

if who she’s fucking is AFAB she’s EATING IT!!!! YOU CAN BET ON IT THAT SHE DOES MUNCH!

if they’re AMAB then you can expect her to lean them back on her chest and give them the most intense handjob of their life.

in general, the animatronics are stronger than people, so when they’re rough they’re still not going at their hardest. that would actually just kill you.

she’s a show-off. she’ll leave marks in very noticeable places on purpose so that everyone knows that you’re getting fucked by THE Roxanne Wolf

she’s a hair puller. I just know she likes to wrap her claws up in it and pull.

don’t fucking pull hers though, she doesn’t like that shit.

yeah her tail wags when you eat her out, what about it? don’t point that shit out, it’s embarrassing to her.

she curses so much during sex.

the strap is purple and THICK. if you want more then she’ll just hit up Chica for a new one. Chica is more than happy to help. and more than happy to watch.

she’s only the jealous type if its some rando loser. THEN she’ll fuck the living shit out of you while telling you how she’s the best and making you repeat it back to her.

if it’s Monty or Chica? If you’d be into it too, then yeah, she’ll share.

…Freddy is more of a hard sell, but it’s not a hard no.

it’s more of a “Yeah yeah yeah but why do you wanna fuck the dumbass bear? Why him? Monty’s got a bigger one, I’ll tell you that.”

yeah but roxy baby his doesn’t vibrate

she comes off a winning high after a particularly close race, she’s going to go feral on you

with those eyes of hers, she can find you wherever you go. so if she’s randomly in the mood and her partner is there, even halfway across the pizzaplex, she’s on her way to pull you into her room and take some “private time.”

MONTGOMERY GATOR

hhhhhhooOOOHHH BOY

y’all remember the start of SB where he’s fucking up his room?

prepare to be destroyed HSGDHJSGBDNH

degrades. degrades the fuck out of you. it’s a toss up between Roxy and Monty who’s the more cocky, but he’s certainly meaner.

LONG ASS DICK. IT’S HUGE WITH ALL SORTS OF BUMPS AND RIDGES AND SHIT.

head pusher IF you’re okay with it. consent is mandatory.

he’d grab all his partner’s hair if they had any to grab, even just an INCH and go ham.

his long ass dick matches his long fucking tongue.

loves giving lethal backshots LOOOOOOOORD HAAAAAAAAVVVEEEE MEEERCYYYYYY

he’s not only breaking the bed, it’s straight up sawdust. idk how his partners live but they certainly live happily after.

as cocky as he is, he’s not exactly a selfish lover by any means. yeah, he’ll edge you, but he also likes to get his partner real sloppy if you catch my drift.

he aims to make you cry from pleasure. it’s straight up his goal.

i just know he knows EXACTLY where all the right spots are. you don’t even gotta tell him, inside or outside, no matter personal preference, he can always pinpoint his partner’s sweet spots

and then he proceeds to abuse the fuck out of that knowledge

he gets so jealous over Freddy, it’s insane

he sees his partner in his merch, he’s ripping it to shreds.

Roxy is less of a threat. That can be more of a collaborative effort.

he honestly doesn’t know how much of a freak in the sheets Chica is. If he had a threesome with her and she whipped out her chest of fun he’d be like “DAMN BITCH WHERE’D YOU GET ALL THOSE” and she’d be like “^-^ wanna see my buttplug collection? :>” LMFAOOO

GROANER. he GROANS LIKE CRAZY

also a bit of a growl but NOT in the cringe tiktok way don’t worry

HOPE YALL ENJOYED!!! I really hope I can start to find my old community with this :)

[callme-holly]

i love how accurate ur hcs are!! do u think u could do dating hcs for sodapop??

𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐩 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - I love Soda so freaking much someone please requests more stuff for him like ugh <33 Hope ya'll enjoy and as always my asks are still open for requests!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 495 words

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - none!!

He loves you so much and he will tell you every chance he gets. There will never be a moment in your relationship where you feel unwanted or unappreciated because this boy will shower you with praise all the damn time.

He'll really open up to you. He trusts you enough to be vulnerable around you and if something is bothering him or he’s upset please just hold him until he’s better.

He is so clingy like it drives the gang insane. He always has to be near you or touching you in some way and if you aren’t nearby he’ll feel super uneasy.

He is not shy about pda at all, in fact, if you two are out together he is almost always holding your hand and covering you with little kisses. He doesn’t care what other people think at all and will show you off.

In private, he is even worse. If you’re doing something, he’ll drape himself over your shoulders and kiss your neck until you pay attention to him. If you’re sitting on the couch reading, he’ll rest his head in your lap and place your hand in his hair. He needs all the attention, please give it to him.

Honestly, Darry and Pony love you. You make their brother happy and that’s all that matters to them <33

Steve is always fighting you for Soda’s attention. He likes you well enough but that’s his best friend right there and he’s not having you steal him away.

Always visiting Soda at the DX just to watch him work. It’s definitely the highlight of his day when you walk through that door and if you don’t know, he’ll mope around and whine to Steve.

Showering together every chance you get!!

He will never let you walk home alone, doesn’t matter where it is you’re going or what time of the day it is, he wants to make sure you get back safe.

Dates consist of going to the diner and getting milkshakes or going to see a movie. He gets restless after the first 40 minutes or so but he can try and sit still for you.

Soda has and will use every single pet name he knows on you. It doesn’t matter how cringy they may be, he is using them.

Stealing his flannels!!

You two very rarely argue but when you do he’s so upset about it. He’ll go all quiet and once you’ve both made-up he’ll just hold you and whisper apologies in your ear.

When you’re upset, he’s there in a heartbeat, kissing away your tears and whispering little words of comfort into your hair. He hates seeing you sad and will do anything and everything to cheer you up.

He thinks you’re the prettiest person on the planet and will remind you of that at least once every hour.

He’s always buying you little things. It’s never for any particular occasion, he just likes seeing you smile.

𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬!!

[steddieasitgoes]

he can't sit with us (or maybe he can?)

written for @steddie-week Day 4 prompt: Trade Rating: T | wc: 2651 | no cw thank you to @stevethehairington and @thefreakandthehair for beta-ing this one for me!! Read on ao3

Eddie is amped up. 

Lunch has always been his favorite part of the school day, but today is going to be an especially good one. Not because of his lunch — he forgot to grab the sandwich he made last night so he wouldn’t forget, and he’s been out of lunch credit for weeks now, so he’s shit out of luck on that front — but because today’s the day he unleashes his latest rant on the hivemind that is the Hawkins High student body. 

It’s taken him weeks to work out everything he wants to say about the giant mall they’re building a few blocks from Main Street that everyone and their workaholic fathers are excited about. The one that led to the demolishment of Hawkins' second-best trailer park — Forest Hills being the best, obviously. He even asked Wayne’s advice on what he should say since his uncle has way more experience going against The Man™ and The Man’s™ People. 

He’s pretty proud of what he’s come up with. Sure, it’s a typical Munson rant that goes on a personal tangent in the middle about how Sam Goody and Tape World are probably going to put Jet’s Jams out of music. And okay, yeah, Jet’s Jams is the fucking worst most of the time and only ever has the top 40s bullshit in stock, but at least Eddie has some pull with good ole’ Jet and can bargain with the dude to order a metal record or two every once in a while. You think Sam Goody is going to take his advice? Not a chance in hell!

But then he’ll get back on track and get into the educational stuff that Wayne talked to him about. At least, that’s the plan; all he has to do is stick to the bullet point list he scribbled out in Ms. O’Donnell’s class thirty minutes ago, ignoring whatever the fuck she was going on about at the front of the room. 

It’s going to be great. Definitely one of his best lunchtime soapbox speeches. Hell, maybe this will be the one to actually wake some of his peers up. Capitalism is the real devil here. Not him. 

He’s bouncing with adrenaline and nerves as he saunters into the crowded cafeteria, ready for his moment, ready for—

What the hell? 

Eddie stops midstride when he spots Gareth and Jeff waving at him from a table in the middle of the room. Again, what the hell? That’s not their table. Not even fucking close. 

Eddie doesn’t believe in the social hierarchy of high school cliques, but he does respect the lunch table distribution system Hawkins’ operates under. And he knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that tables in the middle are destined for the so-called elite. Not his Dungeons & Dragons club and the other lost sheep stragglers he’s accumulated over his extended high school career.  

They’re supposed to be sitting at a table on the outskirts of the room. The one by the windows, with the art kids to his right and the drama kids to his left. The weirdo, outcast corner. 

And yet, there they are in the middle of the room at a table usually occupied by the so-called elites and anyone else they’ve deemed worthy of their company. 

“This isn’t our table,” Eddie says, slamming his hands down with enough force to knock Gareth’s brown paper bag over, taking his unopened Dr. Pepper can with it. 

Gareth scowls, righting the can. “Now I see why you’re a super senior. Of course, it’s not our fucking table!” 

Eddie intertwines his fingers before pillowing his chin against them. “Okay then, Gareth the Great, tell me why we are sitting here.” 

“Our table is occupied,” Jeff supplies. 

“Occupied? Everyone knows that’s our table! Is this person new? Have they recently had a lobotomy?” 

This time, it’s Freak who speaks up. “No. He knows. He probably just doesn’t give a shit. A table’s a table or whatever.” 

Or whatever? Fat chance. A table hasn’t ever been just a table in the hellscape that is Hawkins High. Still, Eddie can’t help but be curious. There aren’t many people who would willingly sit at a new table this late into the school year. It’s a ballsy move.

He figures it’s a scorned drama kid or drumline member — there’s always drama in those groups; someone is always fucking someone they shouldn’t be, horny assholes. But when he turns to get a glance at this intruder, it’s not a butthurt outcast taking up court at the table, but rather Hawkins' very own Fallen King, Steve Harrington. 

For the third time, what the hell? 

“Did you tell him it’s our table?” 

“No! He’s Steve Harrington! I don’t think he’ll appreciate a couple of nerds telling him to move.” 

“And we value our lives too much to mess with upperclassmen,” Gareth says, mumbling something about learning his lesson the last time he tried something stupid like that. 

Eddie rolls his eyes before scoffing loud enough to startle the nearby table of cheerleaders. He wiggles his fingers in an innocent wave before focusing his attention back on his friends. 

“Please, Steve is all bark and no bite. And he hasn’t been Steve Harrington in a while.” Eddie raises his voice several octaves, batting his eyelashes as he says Steve’s name. “Now he’s just Steve Harrington,” he says, shrugging his shoulders with a nonchalance he never would have expected to use for someone of Steve’s former status. “He’s just some guy whose girlfriend dumped him for an artsy loner.” 

“It doesn’t matter, man! You don’t mess with people like Harrington,” Jeff says, shaking his head. “I’m sure it’s just like a one-time thing or something. It’s not like any of his friends are sitting with him. Maybe he’s just fighting with them.” 

Jeff has a point. Steve is alone. Sitting at the table all be himself, poking disinterestedly at an apple sauce cup. He’s not cowering or trying to make himself smaller like most people would do if they were stuck eating lunch alone, but he’s not making a show of it either. He’s just there. Minding his own business, staring out the windows Eddie has spent all five years of his high school career looking out off. 

“Those sounds like quitting words, Jefferson,” Eddie taunts, turning his attention back to the group. He makes a show of looking each and every Hellfire member in the eyes when he speaks again. “Are we quitters?” 

The entire table groans, a few shake their heads. Gareth, always the brave one, throws a chip at Eddie’s head that he manages to catch in his mouth. And people say he’s not athletic! 

“Since we’re not quitters, what should we do about this unlawful infiltration?” 

“I don’t know if it's an infiltration,” Freak says. “We just like traded tables without a verbal agreement.” 

“That’s worse than a seize!” 

“I don’t know, man. You’re the one that’s all fired up about it. Why don’t you go over there and ask Harrington to give it back to us.” 

“You know what,” Eddie says, pushing off the table until he’s standing. “I will.” 

With the same gravitas he entered the cafeteria with, Eddie saunters over to Steve. The sooner he gets this table thing handled, the sooner he can get on with his lunchtime diatribe — see Mr. Vance, I do listen in English class, old bat.

Eddie’s not a quiet walker by any means — he’s had enough pillows thrown at his head from Wayne for the way he stomps around the trailer in the mornings — but he manages to sneak up on Steve. Maybe it’s because his eyes are trained on a squirrel running up a tree in the distance, mumbling encouragements as the poor thing struggles to make it up. 

Huh, Harrington’s a squirrel fan? Who knew? 

Eddie’s watch chirps, a reminder that there are only ten minutes left of lunch. Jesus H. Christ! He’ll have to do an abridged version of his speech now, but it should still be enough to get his point across. That is if he manages to get Steve to trade tables with them without a fight. 

“Fancy seeing you here, Steve,” Eddie says, loud enough to startle Steve out of the squirrel watching. “What brings you to my humble abode?” 

Steve glances up at him with a look of disinterest he seems to have perfected in his fall from grace. And honestly, as much as Eddie hates to admit it and would never say it out loud unless he was being waterboarded or some shit, this new version of Steve really works for him. 

“Your humble what?” Steve asks, dropping his disinterest to look up confused instead. 

His brows pull together, scrunching up his forehead in a way that should be unflattering but is honestly sort of endearing. And his head is tilted to the side like a confused animal — something Eddie has a lot of experience with, given his unofficial status as a trailer park animal rescuer. Eddie’s so lost in studying Steve’s confusion that he forgets to actually respond, which like, is new territory for Eddie. He’s never one not to talk. 

“Look, man, I don’t know what you want, but could you just spit it out so I can go back to enjoying my lunch?”

Eddie’s personality returns to his body in an instant. “Enjoying your lunch, you say?” He takes a second to glance at Steve’s lunch tray. A measly bite has been taken out of the cardboard the school passes off as pizza. The side of congealed mac and cheese sits untouch and his apple sauce cup is open but still perfectly intact. “Doesn’t look like you ate at all, Steve.” 

“Seriously, Munson, what do you want?” 

Eddie tsks and yanks the seat next to Steve away from the table before not-so-gracefully falling into it. He kicks his feet up on the table a moment later, the toe of his boot knocking against the carton of milk he’s willing to bet Steve also hasn’t touched. Though he can’t really blame him for that one. Milk is not a lunchtime beverage, and no amount of dairy propaganda is ever going to change that. 

“As I’m sure you’re aware, Harrington, this is my table.” 

“I didn’t know the cafeteria had assigned seats.” 

“Bullshit, you didn’t,” Eddie growls, throwing his hands up in the air. The move forces him to lose his balance, chair wobbling on two legs under him, threatening to give out and dump him on his ass. Definitely not the lunchtime show he was hoping to give today. But before he meets his demise, Steve extends his hand, steadying the chair long enough for Eddie to drop his feet and reclaim his balance. “Thanks.” 

Steve grunts in response and goes back to staring out the window. 

Fucking squirrel. 

“Look, Steve,” Eddie says, getting straight to the point this time. “I don’t know why you decided to switch tables today or why you decided my table was the one you suddenly wanted, but can we please just switch back?” 

“I’m good here.” 

He tears his eyes away from the window for long enough to glance at his former table, where Gareth and Jeff are using straws as lightsabers without a care in the world. Steve snorts, and Eddie stiffens; he really, really doesn’t want to have to fight anyone today, but if Steve’s willing to be a dick about his friends in front of his face, well, fight, he will. But then Steve’s face softens, and he shakes his head in amusement. 

“Looks like your friends are good where they’re at, too. Though the lightsaber skills could use some work,” Steve teases. “Are we good then?”

“No, we’re not good!” Eddie shouts, trying his best to keep his brain on task. We’re here to get our table back, not ponder why Steve Harrington suddenly has a soft spot for nerds because what? “That’s your table, man, and this is ours. You’re going to upset the fragile balance of this place.” 

“Shouldn’t you be thanking me or something? I thought upsetting the balance was your life goal.” 

How dare Steve Harrington read him like that.

Since his dramatics haven’t worked, Eddie opts for the truth this time. “I have no interest in sitting in the middle of the damn cafeteria where everyone can see me and my friends just to cause a little societal unrest.” 

“And I have no interest in being forced to sit in the middle so everyone can stare at me while judging me and my mistakes.” 

Oh. 

The truth shouldn’t be all that shocking. Anyone who has eyes has witnessed Steve’s fall from King too well; Eddie’s not sure there is a word for what Steve is now. He’s not a pariah or an outcast, not smart enough to be a nerd, and the rumor is he quit basketball, so he’s not a jock. He’s just… lost? 

Steve groans, running a hand over his face for a second before his fingers pinch the bridge of his nose. “Can we pretend I didn’t say that?” 

“Uh, sure?” 

“Look, Eddie, I’m not going to trade tables with you, but if this one means that much to you, I don’t mind sharing.” 

“I thought you said you don’t want people staring at you?” 

“I don’t.” 

“Okay, well, sitting with the Freaks of Hawkins is definitely going to get people staring and talking, and honestly, you might even have to dodge a punch or two just for being in our vicinity.” 

“I’ll survive.” 

For the first time in his life, Eddie has no idea what to say. On one hand the idea of sharing a table is so preposterous he’s convinced he might be dreaming right now. But after a quick pinch to confirm that he is awake, he goes back to weighing his options. Sharing a table with Steve isn’t ideal, but sitting in the middle of the fucking cafeteria is a death sentence. He might be able to hold his own with the upper echelon of Hawkins High, but his ragtag group of friends isn’t so scrappy. 

And then there’s the lost sheep of it all. 

Eddie’s spent most of his high school career looking after lonely high schoolers. Whisking them under his wing, giving them a safe space to eat lunch or a club to hang out at after school to avoid having to walk back home alone. He thought he’d become somewhat of an expert at it, but it seems Steve Harrington has managed to slip through his cracks. 

Eddie would be the world’s biggest hypocrite if he didn’t at least try with Steve. It’s not like he has to join Hellfire or anything. All he’s really asking for his a spot at their lunch table. 

“I have one condition.” 

“Of course you do,” Steve says, rolling his eyes. 

“Actually, I have two.” Steve chuckles and motions for Eddie to get on with it already. “One, you can’t make fun of anything that happens at the table. We’re weird. You know it, we know it. We’re allowed to tease each other about it. You are not.” 

“I wouldn’t do that. Not anymore.” 

Eddie nods. “And two, you have to give me your dessert every day.” 

“Every day?” Steve balks. “You can have my applesauce and pudding cups, but I’m not giving you Friday’s chocolate cake.” 

“Guess you’re going to have to go back to sitting at the fishbowl table then.” 

Eddie watches as Steve considers this for a moment before his shoulders heave the world’s biggest sigh. “Fine.” 

Without warning, Eddie pushes away from the table, the legs of the chair screeching against the linoleum. His lips twitch at the corners, pulling into a genuine smile as he stands and offers Steve his hand. “Welcome to the Freak table, Steve.” 

[bookworrm1999]

How Far Away? Epilogue

Caleb x Mc

Tags: unplanned pregnancy, presumed death, depression, miscommunication

Summary: Mc and Caleb fight right before he goes on a long mission into space. Caleb ends up MIA while Mc finds out she's pregnant. She struggles to deal with the grief while Caleb is fighting for his life to make it back home to her.

Ao3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

Epilogue

25 weeks

You were really starting to show now, it had seemed to already be big before but you had no idea what was in store for you. There were still 15 weeks to go! When people said that pregnancy was 9 months, it wasn’t quite accurate, it was actually 10 months when you broke down the 40 weeks.

It was spring now and it was warm enough in Skyhaven to leave the windows open, letting the spring breeze in.

You were laying on the couch on your side, your head sidled up next to Caleb’s thigh.

His hand was smoothing your hair down, a comforting feeling as you dozed. He was reading a pregnancy book to look even more into what was happening in your body.

Things that you weren’t even sure that you wanted to know.

How the baby would most likely have a lot of hair if you had frequent heartburn, how the baby's first poop would be dark and sticky like tar because the baby still peed even in the womb.

The baby breathed even in the womb, practicing breathing and swallowing.

Even now, your baby could hear you and would recognize your voice when they came out of the womb.

What really made you want to cry with all these pregnancy hormones, was that the baby didn’t even consider their mother a separate person from themselves for their first year of life.

Caleb told you all these things as he pet your head gently, the quiet intimacy was something you needed after so many weeks of loneliness and grief.

27 weeks

Laying on your bed together, Caleb’s head resting on your belly

“Hi baby girl, it’s me, your daddy.”

“I love that you talk to her every night like this.”

“Well with me back to work, I gotta make sure that she recognizes my voice too! I wasn’t here for the first few months after all.”

“She couldn’t even hear anything back then, you goose.”

“Semantics. Your mother thinks she’s so smart and knows everything. The only reason she does is because I read the books and told her.”

“I would’ve read them on my own if you hadn’t!”

“When?”

“…. Eventually…”

“Ha! When you were in the hospital and freaking out in the middle of the night, freaking out about what you were supposed to do?”

“Be nice to the lady carrying your baby.”

“I’m always nice. Hear that little girl? I’m the nice one, your mama is the meanie.”

You flick his forehead in retaliation.

“Hey! Ow! What was that for?”

“You’re poisoning our child against me! Before she’s even out of the womb too!”

“Okay, okay I’m sorry!”

“Sing her a lullaby, I’m going to bed, I’m tired.”

“Are you that mad at me?”

“No, just being pregnant is tiring. I may not be out in the field but doing desk work here at home is still mentally exhausting on top of this little one rolling all day.”

Caleb kisses your belly gently and begins to sing quietly.

“Hush little baby don’t say a word, daddy’s gonna buy you a mocking bird. If that mocking bird don’t sing, daddy’s gonna buy you a diamond ring. If that diamond ring turns brass, Daddy’s gonna buy you a looking glass. If that looking glass gets broke, Daddy’s gonna buy you a billy-goat. If that billy-goat don’t pull, Daddy’s gonna buy you a cart and bull. If that cart and bull turn over, Daddy’s gonna buy you a dog named Rover. If that dog named Rover don’t bark, Daddy’s gonna buy you a horse and cart. If that horse and cart fall down, You’ll still be the sweetest little baby in town.”

“Sounds like Daddy is going to be wrapped around her finger.”

“Just go to bed.”

30 weeks

Two weeks into your third trimester, your belly felt so heavy now. Caleb had bought you a maternity belly support belt.

It was a godsend but it wasn’t comfortable to lay down in but when you needed to work at your desk or do things around the house, it was amazing.

Caleb had been grounded until your baby was born and for another 4 months after the birth.

With Ever flailing around like a chicken whose head had been cut off, the Fleet had gone back to what it had used to have been.

Similar to what Zayne had described when you had first reunited with Caleb all those months ago.

A quiet but always present authority.

It let Caleb be a proper pilot, he didn’t have to be scary just commanding now.

Sylus had Ever on the defensive, Viper was instrumental in either eliminating threats within the organization or passing on information.

They were dying a slow death all because of an inside job taking out the heavy hitters.

It let Caleb and you have a proper relationship, you were finally communicating and you had even brought in a couples therapist.

Your personal therapist was great but Caleb hadn’t quite worked up the courage to go to one himself.

It had been hard enough opening up to the love of his life after all.

You were hopeful that you could both move forward with your lives.

The only issue now was that Caleb hadn’t brought up marriage again.

It had been weeks since he had mentioned it that morning you had reunited.

Had you been too harsh in rejecting him and just settling for being his girlfriend?

There was so much in the air at that time, life and not really knowing what was happening with Caleb.

The threat to all of your lives.

But it was different now, would you have to bring it up?

You would but Caleb still had a tendency to be secretive, you would hate to ruin a well thought surprise just because you were impatient.

Speak of the devil, you had been washing dishes when Caleb came up behind you, head resting on your shoulder.

Grabbing your hands gently and intertwining his fingers with yours, the soap sudsing between your palms.

“I thought I said I would wash the dishes?”

“You made dinner, which was delicious, thank you.”

“Oh I try, but really, you should go sit down. It worries me to see you up and doing things.”

“Really Caleb, I’m pregnant, not injured. Pregnancy is not a disability.”

“It can be for some people.”

“Honestly, I know but you’ve seen me, has it really given me much of an issue besides the usual symptoms?”

“I just want to help.”

“Listen, what’s really going on honey?”

“Ah, you caught me. I…. I guess I just feel guilty that I left you alone for those first few months. I know how sick you got and it eats me up. I want to help as much as I can now.”

“Caleb, I appreciate the thought. Really I do. But if I want to help and do things, just let me. It makes me feel like a caged bird again when you don’t let me do anything.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So long as you understand. But since you’re here and you offered, you can take over now! My back is starting to hurt.”

“On it! I’ll massage you after I finish ok?”

“You’re such a puppy.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing dear!”

35 weeks

So close but yet so far from the end of pregnancy. Everything felt heavy and took so much energy to do.

It was hard to take a deep breath, her little head living in your ribs. Maybe it was her feet now, the doctor had said that she had turned to face down now.

Getting ready for birth, you didn’t want her to come early but you were starting to get tired.

You couldn’t lay on your back, it was uncomfortable, not to mention unsafe.

Something about the baby putting pressure on a certain major blood vessel, slowing blood flow between you and the baby.

You groaned aloud, catching Caleb’s attention. It was the evening, you were laying on your side, watching a mindless home renovation show.

He was beside you, reading a report, bringing work home as usual.

“What’s wrong baby?”

“I feel so heavy and uncomfortable!”

“What can I do to help?”

“I dunno, I’m tired but it’s hard to get comfortable and then it’s hard to stay asleep because I have to pee so much.”

“I’ll draw a bath for you. Maybe being in the water will help you feel lighter, take some pressure off your back.”

“That sounds heavenly.”

“Give me a minute.”

Caleb leaves the room, you hear the roar of water from the bathroom after a few seconds.

It takes him five minutes to come out and offer you his hand to help you up.

“Your bath awaits my lady.”

“You’re such a goof.”

“And after all that effort? I’m offended.”

“If you could really be offended by a little thing like that. I’d be disappointed in you.”

Helping you up and leading you to the bathroom. The scene was so nice that it made your eyes tear up, touched by his gesture.

He’d set the mood by lighting some candles, the bath warm and filled with bubbles from your favorite bubble bath soap. A bath bomb on the side in case you wanted it, he’d even grabbed a water bottle and some crackers and cheese to munch on.

“You really are the best boyfriend.”

“I’m flattered! Such high praise!”

“Shut up and help me get in.”

Caleb helps you into the bath after getting undressed, a bath pillow behind your neck. Water buoying your body, giving you some much needed relief from the pressure in your back.

A low groan escaping you, sinking down into the water, your hair is up in a bun safe from getting wet.

“Thank you.”

Caleb trails his fingers in the water, happy to just watch you.

“You’re welcome.”

39 weeks

It’s the middle of the night, you had just gone to bed 2 hours before.

You awoke feeling odd, you stood up and made your way to the bathroom.

Caleb still sleeping in the bed behind you.

You had just made it to the tiled floor when a weird but warm feeling spread down your thighs.

It was wet.

Like you had just peed yourself but it was different.

You checked, sitting down on the toilet. It was not definitely not pee.

It was still leaking, a constant drip.

So you stuck a pad in your underwear, not having gotten use from these for months.

Going back to your room; you shook Caleb awake.

“What…?”

“I think my water broke.”

“What?!”

He sits up straight in bed looking at you with panic.

“Don’t worry, I’m not feeling any contractions but we do need to head to the hospital. Since my water broke, I’m at risk for infection if I don’t go into labor in the next 24 hours. I need to be at the hospital so they can induce me if I don’t naturally start progressing.”

“I’ll grab the bags, you go get in the plane.”

“It’ll be ok hon, from what I’ve learned. It’s nothing like the movies, we have time.”

Reaching Skyhaven hospital, you had let your OB know that your water had broke. It was the middle of the night so it had taken her a bit to reply back, but she’d be there in a few hours.

The nurses brought you and Caleb into the intake room, asking questions about when your water had broken, what color it was, if it was still leaking, etc.

Once they had you alone to get you changed into a gown and move you to your room, they asked you the standard question if you were safe at home.

Boy oh boy if they had asked that question at the beginning of your relationship, it made you ligas but appreciate the progression of your relationship as you answered yes.

They got you into the hospital bed, Caleb coming in behind you now.

Hooking you up to the fetal monitors to check on your contractions.

“Looks like you are having some small contractions, are you feeling those?”

“No i'm not actually.”

“Alright, you let me know when you start feeling them. Would you like to be able to walk and bounce on the ball?”

“Yes please!”

“Ok, when you start feeling the contractions, since you won’t be hooked up, just press this button ok?”

“Sounds good!”

“Will you be wanting any pain medication or an epidural?”

“I think I’ll be fine.”

Famous last words.

**

“Son of a— agggh!”

Caleb holds your hands anxiously, not able to help and distracting you just made you mad.

“Maybe I can see if they can get the anesthesiologist in here to give you an epidural?”

“Please!”

He presses the call light and explains the situation, the nurse says that the anesthesiologist would probably take about 15 minutes to get there.

“Are you kidding me?”

The contraction passes, now 3 minutes apart. You had been here for 10 hours already, you had thought you could tough it out. But as they got closer together, the stronger the pain became.

“I’m here baby.”

“I know, I don’t know if that’s making me feel better or not yet.”

It does indeed take 15 minutes for the doctor to appear, right around the same time as the OB comes in to check on your progress.

“Hey, I’m feeling some intense pressure like I gotta go bad.”

The anesthesiologist stops preparing your back and looks at the OB knowingly.

She puts in her gloves and has you spread your legs.

Checking your progression, she smiles.

“Your feeling your baby’s head bearing down. You’re at 10 centimeters and it’s time to push!”

“Wait! What about the epidural?”

“I’m sorry dear,” the two doctors look at you sympathetically, “You progressed too fast and it’s too late for that. You’ll have to do without it, we do have some gas you could take though!”

Another contraction starts and the pressure is unbearable. The doctor tells you to bear down with the contractions.

Everytime, it feels like fire down there, the pain so bad that you can’t think straight.

Caleb holds your hand, having gone silent to avoid getting his head bitten off and for nervousness.

“There’s the head! The next contraction should bring it out! Come on, next one and push!”

Bearing down like you were going to the bathroom seemed to be the best way to get the baby out. Your body naturally taking over in this act.

“She’s almost here! You got this baby.” Caleb whispers in your ear, having been wiping your forehead off and being the one to ground you.

“Aaahh!”

“The head! Bear down! The shoulders and everything else will follow if you can get those out!”

“Nnnngh!”

You felt your baby slide out from you and the pain released you. Quickly laying your baby on your chest, stimulating your little girl with a soft blanket and vigorous rubbing of her back.

The sweetest little cry, like a lamb bleating greets your ears.

“Oh! Oh! You’re beautiful!”

She’s the most precious thing, looking up at you with dark hair and a peek of purple eyes.

Tears falling from your eyes, you look up at Caleb, seemingly stunned at first but he raises his hand and lays it on her back. His hand covering almost all of her little body.

Tears fall from his eyes, a beaming smile covering his face.

“Hi little girl, I’m your daddy.”

“And I’m your mama, and we love you so much.”

You both surround your little girl with your bodies, feeling the bliss of the golden hour. The doctors in the room but leaving you to bond with your baby before taking her to check on her.

You smooth her soft hair, a little slimy with vernix but everything seems so novel and perfect about her regardless of the fact that she’s basically covered in cheese.

Placing a kiss on her forehead, you notice that she seems to have fallen asleep on your chest. Lulled by the familiar sound of your heartbeat and your scent.

“So what do you think? Should we keep the name we picked out?” You ask Caleb, not taking your eyes off of her but grasping his hand.

“Yes absolutely. She is our most cherished one now and that’s what Ahava means.”

“Hello little Ahava, welcome to the world.”

Everything else passes with a blur, she weighs 6 pounds and 7 ounces all in perfect health.

You lay her on your breast and it takes some finessing but she manages to latch

You hadn’t slept that long the night before and the pain had kept you up. So you passed her to Caleb and fell asleep, sore, the placenta already passed but you still had so much healing to do.

A few hours later, her little snuffling cries woke you up. Caleb looked a little stressed but he rocked her gently and murmured soothing words. His lips against her forehead and his body surrounding her.

“I can take her.” You held your arms out for her.

Ahava was placed in your arms and you breathed in the smell of your baby. You had often wondered about parents talking about the smell of a newborn but it was true. Babies smelled amazing at least when they were clean.

Breastfeeding her, yawning and still out of it. You swore you saw something twinkle on your hand.

No it was there! A ring!

You turned your head accusingly at Caleb but he just grinned smugly.

Whispering into your ear as not to disturb your daughter, he said

“I measured it all those weeks ago while we were washing dishes. I think you’ve been my girlfriend long enough now. I’d like to say you’re my wife as well as the mother of my children when I introduce you to people.”

“Children? As in plural?”

“Absolutely, I think we need a few more of these little ones. Don’t you?”

“I’m sure you’ll find some way to convince me.” You sigh teasingly.

“Oh you can bet on it.” Caleb leans forward and kisses you gently, the feeling of your daughter sleeping in your arms and all threats gone. Life truly felt complete in that moment.

Thank you so much for reading! I’ve really enjoyed writing this fic. I may write more about these characters in the future, maybe a smutty one or about their lives as parents, we’ll see.

Tags: @moonberry69 @supermyeon22 @tinnyrabbit @gavin3469 @marina27826 @crowleysthings @tabi-callico @midiplier

@his-ocean-emissary @rosalyne08

@xaviers-pookie-bear @tsunamethyst @thejujvtsupost @cherrybeomgyu

@gojosballsack69 @apple-lov3r @dinochocochip @violetpurplez @raiyuxa @nickibunny23 @sh3sa1dwhat @playboygeniusphilanthropist @flwerie @lynnlovesthestars @twilightsmissingfur

@kasuumi @i-messed-up-big-time @mcdepressed290 @mc-cos-charm @needsleep3000

[matthewswifeyx]

Nothing better <3

I was on week 40 of my pregnancy. I think Matt was more excited than me at this point. He just wanted our baby to be born. We both came to the decision to leave the gender as a surprise. We had our guesses. Matt and Nick was on team girl, me and Chris were on team boy.

I was sitting on the couch cuddling Matt and watching my favourite disney movie, The Aristocats. It had always been my favourite ever since my mom watched it with me when I was a child. Matt was rubbing small circles onto my back. God it ached. This pregnancy weight was getting the better of me. I yawned quietly.

"You okay sweetheart?"

"Never better, just tired."

"Do you want to go to bed?"

"No, I really want to finish the movie. I'm just going to get some water to wake up a bit."

"I can get that for you if you want?"

"No it's fine, I need to stretch my legs anyway."

I stood up and walked to the kitchen to go get a glass of water. I was still watching the movie while doing this activity. I got distracted and looked over at the finished nursery. It had been completed weeks ago. I just wish this baby would hurry up, they were already past their due date.

As i couldn't really do much of the building for the nursery, so Matt just told me to choose everything online. Hi didn't mind what I ordered. I also ordered all of the decorations, toys, books and so on. Matt had told his brothers to come round our house to help build everything for the nursery. Chris helped Matt build the crib, changing table, wardrobe, rocking chair and storage. Nick put up shelves and picture frames. The nursery looked very welcoming and homely.

I had got distracted with my own thoughts and forgot about Matt and the movie. I slowly started walking back to Matt on the couch.

"Oh baby, did the water splash from the tap?"

"No?"

"Well why are your pants wet?"

Realisation hit both of us and we started to freak out. The baby was coming. I could sense Matt's nervousness and excitement bouncing off the walls just from his facial expressions.

"I didn't even realise." I laugh. "I was just having a look at the nursery."

Matt nodded, and went to go grab my hospital bag. He came pack into the living room and dropped the bag by my side.

"I can't believe this is happening! I love you so much my love." Matt said quickly and kissed me lovingly on my lips cupping my cheeks. "We better get going!" Matt squealed. "Are you having contractions yet honey?"

"No I'm doing okay at the moment! Before we leave, I'm just going to change my pants."

"Okay sweetie. I'll go put the bag in the car."

I changed out of my sweatpants and changed into a pair of Matt's sweatpants as they were bigger and I always find myself more comfortable in his anyway. I put my crocs on and started walking downstairs to the garage. Matt was waiting by the door to guide me to the car. He opened the door to the car and I sat in the passenger seat. Matt took the seatbelt and buckled it for me. Before he went to go to the drivers seat he kissed my forehead and closed the door.

We were on the road and I was doing just fine with contractions. They hadn't come yet. Matt was too nervous to even play any music. He gripped the stearing wheel tightly and a way to calm his nerves.

"Matt babe, you look petrified." I chuckle.

"Sorry. I shouldn't be this nervous as you're just about to push a human out of your body. Am I overreacting?" Matt rambles.

"Not at all Matt, just take deep breathes and calm down. I'm not in any pain yet anywa-" I was interrupted by a mild contraction. I grit my teeth and suck in my breath to get through the contraction with no hassle.

"Are you okay sweetheart. Do you need me to pull over?" Matt worries.

"No I'm doing fine, just get me to the hospital in one piece will you?"

We had finally arrived at the hospital and Matt went straight to reception carrying my bag to let them know I was in labour. i was miles behind Matt but I was just in time as they pushed a wheelchair in my direction as I entered through the doors. Matt helped me sit down, and the nurse wheeled me to my hospital room. This was such a surreal feeling.

I was given a hospital gown and some privacy to change. Matt helped me get out of my clothes and into the fabric. He was so gentle with me. It was nice though as I was in such a vulnerable state. We finished changing and Matt helped me lay down onto the hospital bed. While doing so I was hit with a more intense contraction this time.

"Ow." I peeped out. I didn't want to cause much noise.

"Are you okay sweetheart?"

"I don't want to make a lot of noise that's all."

"Honey, you have an excuse, you're in labour, make as much noise as you would like!"

The contraction has passed by the time Matt had said that.

TIME SKIP

The nurse had come in a few times to check how dilated I was. the first hour I was 3cm, the second hour I was 5cm, the third hour i was 8cm, but it took ages for me to dilate to 10cm. The nurse had come in three more times and the length hadn't changed. I felt so frustrated. All I wanted was to get this baby out of me and Matt could go home. I was so tired and exhausted. The contractions had worn down all of my strength.

Time had passed and the nurse came in once again not expecting me to grow much more. I had accepted that I would be waiting what felt like forever.

"It looks like you're ready Y/N, you're at 10 cm."

I was so happy, but the worst was yet to come.

More doctors flooded the cramped hospital room, there were student doctors examining me. 4 nurses reassuring me. And 1 doctor commanding what would happen next. It was so hot. I had never felt so vulnerable in my life, I didn't like that everyone could just see my intimate area. I didn't consent to any student doctors watching me go through this. Matt could sense my stress.

"Baby, everything is going to be just fine.I know you don't like this at the moment. But very soon we are going to meet our baby. You are the strongest person I know. Just focus on your breathing okay?" Matt breathed with me. I don't know what I would have done without him.

While doing some breathing exercises I was interrupted yet again with another contraction. This had been the most painful one yet. I groaned in pain which caught the attention of the doctor.

"Okay Y/N, it's time to start pushing." I looked at Matt with a tired smile. Matt was over the moon. I held onto his hand and waited for what the doctor had to say next. "When you feel your next contraction you need to push as hard as you can. can you do that for me?" I nodded my head. "Okay, let's get ready everyone!"

After a few minutes, the room was set up for the birth and now we were just waiting for my contractions. This was probably the only time in the whole journey that i wished a contraction upon myself. Suddenly I felt my contraction building up.

"Okay Y/N, lets have a big push."

I pushed as hard as I could which was draining the life out of me.

"Come on Y/N! I love you so much, you're so strong."

I squeezed Matt's hand to relieve any pain I felt. What Matt was feeling was no where near close to what I was going through.

"Again Y/N! You can do it!" the doctor repeated. I screamed and pushed like I never had. "Only a few more pushes Y/N!" The doctor assured. I felt a wave of pain run through my body and that was my sign to push again and again.

After a while of this cycle I finally heard the best news. "I see the head." The it was followed with: "The head is out!" The doctor announced. "One more push Y/N!" I pushed once more and my cries were interrupted with the little cries of our baby.

I had never felt such relief in my life. The little wails from the baby felt like music to my ears.

"It's a boy!"

"I told you Matt!"

Our baby boy was passed over to me to hold for the first time. He was so tiny. I could never ask for anything better. I heard small sniffles ring my ears. Matt was crying.

"Oh Matt!"

"He is so perfect, I could never ask for anything more. I am so proud of you Y/N." He wept.

After that small family interaction a nurse came over to me.

"I just need to take the baby for examinations if that's okay." Me and Matt nodded and the nurse took our baby from my arms.

I had never felt so happy in my life.

TIME SKIP

I must had fallen asleep because I was woken up by the same nurse with my baby in her arms but now in a cute onesie and blue beanie.

"Does dad want to have a hold?" She asked. I smiled towards Matt.

"Yes please." He took the baby from the nurse and was given some privacy. "He's so small." Matt couldn't stop admiring the baby. "What do you think we will name him?"

"I'm not sure yet. Maybe once you are done holding him we can go through some names?"

"Perfect."

Matt went to sit down in the chair next to my bed. He was having some father-son time with his baby boy.

"I love you so much already buddy. I can't wait to watch you grow up and teach and show you all the things I did as a kid. We are going to be best friends."

I started tearing up when I heard that last sentence. I sniffled.

"That's so lovely Matt. You're already such a great dad."

"That means the world to me honey." Matt stood back up and placed the baby in his crib for now.

Matt came over to me and kissed me on my forehead.

"I could never be more proud of you sweetie. I love you so much. You're going to be the best mommy."

I smiled up at Matt. He pulled the chair next to the bed impossibly closer to me.

"Now, lets talk baby names." He smiled.

Hey guys! I hope you really enjoyed this fanfic! If you have any suggestions or requests, send me a message and I will try get back to you asap! <3

[dekusdante]

Well it's that time again for another JJK rant.

So by this point I would assume that most of you know my eternal hatred towards the enemies to lovers trope when it comes to Gojo x reader stories right.

Well we are back at it again cause I am hoping people know that this type of relationship isn't one that Gojo would ever go for. Like it's one of those things that the fandom latched on to like My Hero Academia Hawks being a flirty playboy. It's not something that fits the character but it something that so many people latched on to that they now believe that it's a thing.

Like Gojo knows his worth and value. He literally dislikes those that he views as stuck up or just down right unlikeable. Aka every reader in the enemies to lovers trope. Like you are telling me you hate this guy for no reason but it's okay because your only saving grace is that he finds you attractive.

Seriously.

That is the how 95% of them go. Also to even it out they would make Gojo do some out of pocket stuff to justify the reader treating him like dirt while also always making him the bad guy even if he did nothing wrong.

I am so sick of this copy and paste trope. Now I know i don't have to read it which I don't. If I see it I keep scrolling. Although there are gems I sadly just skip past them because I'm used to the bad and boring ones. (Lowkey reminds me of the dumbest Gojo x reader story on wattpad called Debt. Freaking dumbest reader/mc I have ever read couldn't even get past the first few chapters. The first and only time this has happened)

Another thing is bad reverse harem stories. Like I don't care the reader is 18! Why are men close to their 30s trying to have a relationship with them? Why is said 18 year old trying to have a romantic relationship with freshly turned 15 year old? Look 18 maybe considered an adult but it's still gross and it would have been better if the reader was 20 and up. Also if you want your reader to have love interests that are 15 then they should at least be under 18.

I am sick of gross age gaps, don't care if you are 20 years old dating a 30, 40, or whatever just make it legal! 18 isn't a cheat code!

Also harems suck since they either end up with no one, end up with someone not in the harem, or worst not even completed. Yet, the biggest crime is as I said it before the gross 18 year old cheat code.

Finally the last of my random rant which has to deal with genders and sexyal orientation. Stop writing about boy x boy if you are only going to stereotype them. Yes gay mean may like to be more of the feminine side but NOT all of them. Not all males who prefer to be a bottom want to wear feminine clothes and act like a femboy.

Not all trans people want to be just a title! Don't include them if you are not even going to try! Same with the non binary or gender neutrals. Don't include them but give traits that have a gender that goes against their stances. It's wrong.

Also I lied this is my final rant. Stop saying it's a reader story if you are not going to be neutral. For example giving a reader appearances that instantly alienate a reader. Sure I understand fem reader or male reader tags but to then give them hairstyles, skin tones that alienate others, or ect. I'm a POC (Person of color) and it sucks when you are reading something and instantly shown you are not included. Luckily the anime community is slowly but surely getting more inclusive. No I'm talking about those that want to read reader stories from fandoms like The Boys (Scarlett Witch took over i swear) or (Squid Games I know it's in Korea but dang why can't I be american?).

Anyway that's all. I would love to read and possibly reply to comments. Some may agree others not so much which is far I am criticizing something so it's 100 okay to throw it back!

[luvbugs-blog]

(( if requests are open rn/okay)

Getting caught with the boys, Hitoshi Shinsou version? xx

getting caught with the mha boys - part 3

featuring: hitoshi shinsou

a/n: aged up characters!

warnings: just a lil spicy dicey. spoilers for a grey's anatomy episode.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

midterms were exhausting. it was a friday afternoon, and you were trudging back to your dorm to rot in your bed for a little bit. you barely had any time for yourself this week, choosing to lock yourself in your room or the library to prepare for all the tests. the late nights took a toll on you, so when you finally fall into bed, you almost want to take a nap. but you choose to scroll on tik tok instead, occasionally giggling at a funny one before sending it to your boyfriend.

oh. shinsou! you haven't seen him at all this week, as his test schedule happened to be when your free time was, and vice versa.

you would go visit him after taking some time to recharge. eventually, you do end up falling asleep, not waking up until the morning, weirdly warm. you blink, extremely tired despite sleeping for 10+ hours and shift in bed before hitting something hard. you whip around, heart pounding, to see your boyfriend leaning up against the headboard, smiling at whatever video he was watching. he glances over at you, before sending you a cheeky smile.

"finally up, kitten?"

"you freak! what are you doing in here?"

"i have an extra key."

"oh yeah." he sets his phone to the side and smirks at you.

"i missed you."

"i know, i'm sorry babe." he scoots closer to you, putting his leg over your hip and drawing you into his chest.

"well, we have time now." you smile, holding him close, nudging your nose to his.

"yes we do."

you didn't. just as your lips touched, his phone buzzed. the two of you jumped and he glanced at his phone before groaning loudly.

"what is it?"

"extra training with aizawa." he looked at you and you grinned.

"go on you big, lazy baby. i'll be here when you're done." he tucked some hair behind your ear before rolling over the bed, heading to training so he could get back to you.

but now that he left, you were twitchy, moving around the bed, feeling a bit anxious for him to come back. he had gotten you in the mood and then left. prick. you straighten up your room, clean your bathroom, and then decide to start an episode of grey's anatomy. at this point, you were relaxed again, and the door cracked open just as meredith placed her hand on the live bazooka in the guy's chest. locked in, you barely noticed as shinsou throws his shoes off and goes to take a shower in your bathroom.

he comes out in a towel and starts to crawl over to you, positioning himself over you. you push him aside, much to his displeasure, to watch meredith shakily put the live bazooka in the bomb squad guy's hand.

when the kisses start up your neck, you whine.

"baby, wait. this is interesting."

"i'm interesting."

but when meredith exists the O.R. to see the bomb squad blown up, shinou sits up.

"whoa."

you smirk. "told you it's totally interesting."

the ending credits play and you finally turn your attention to him. when you start kissing him now, he pays no attention as the next episode started playing.

"shinsou."

"no you're right. this is interesting."

"ugh." he smiles, still looking at the tv, and puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest. but you are not going to wait another 40 minutes. your hand trails down his abs (and damn, they are defined) to the hair that peeks out from the top of his towel.

no reaction.

your hand doesn't stop, lightly touching the bulge under the towel. he hisses and grabs your shoulder tighter.

"what are you doing?"

"asking for attention."

"you needy baby."

you throw your leg over his lap, now straddling him, hands reaching to move his hair out of his eyes. his eyes travel back to the tv, but you grab his chin and forced him to look at you.

"pay attention to me," you whine.

he smirks.

"make me."

you do. you smash your lips onto his, swallowing his groans. your hands move up his chest and one links in his hair while the other claws at his back. he kisses back with fervor, and to throw him off his game, you grind down on him. his head falls back onto the headboard, and you take the chance to start sucking on his neck.

his hand goes to your hair, pulling him back. his lips part, ready to say something, when a loud pounding on your door has the two of you quickly breaking apart.

"SHUT THE HELL UP."

the both of you groan, and shinsou shouts,

"way to kill the mood!"

you hear, "DON'T CARE," as he stomps back to his room and slams the door. you totally forgot his was your neighbor.

oops.

[lucisfavoritedemon]

Through The Portal: Chapter 2

Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary: The strange girl slowly begins to reveal her secret past and her true connection to the brothers, and her terrifying encounters with Bill Cipher.

Pairing(s): Stan x platonic!reader, Ford x platonic!reader, Bill x reader

Warnings: flashback, mentions of torture, angst, fluff, mentions of hopelessness, unrequited love, self confidence issues. Age gap (reader looks 21).

A/N: The events and ideas are based on a theory I have about the Nightmare Realm. This is in no way canonically true, just my theories based on what we canonically know about the Nightmare Realm.

The next couple of days were a bit weird. I didn’t sleep very well as thoughts of waking up in that dreaded world again ran through my mind. I hardly slept when I was in that dimension, and now sleep seemed to be something unfamiliar to me. It was strange not having to sleep with one eye open anymore. My body felt uneasy about it.

Mabel being the good hearted person she seemed, showed me around the house. She made sure I could make my way around easily and not have to worry about being awkward. She was a good hearted person, and definitely seemed like she had a heart of gold.

I noticed Stan had avoided me after his comment about me not changing a single bit. It was true though, I freaked myself out when I first looked into a mirror. Still looking like the 21 year old girl who disappeared 40 years ago.

I didn’t get stuck on that fact very long though, the thing I got stuck on was what he called me. Toots. A pet name I haven’t heard in a very long time. I felt like maybe this comment was also the reason he was avoiding me. It probably felt weird for him to call me that again after so long. I couldn’t imagine what was going through his mind though, what happened to me all those years ago? He probably thought I ran out on him after promising to stick with him after everything he had been through.

I walked along the beach trying to find scraps of metal, or plastic that could have washed up on shore. That’s when I noticed a man walking around with a metal detector. I decided to approach him wondering what wonders of the world he was looking for.

“Hello.” I smiled as I walked up to him.

“Oh, uh, hey.” He smiled back, taken aback a bit by my kindness.

“What ya doing with the metal detector? Find anything interesting?” I questioned.

“I’m searching for gold, but I haven’t found anything yet.”

“Gold? Not necessarily impossible, but very difficult here on the beach to find. Uless, you know you find a gold earring, necklace, or ring.”

“Huh?”

“And what are you doing looking for gold anyways?”

“I’m trying to make a fortune.”

“A fortune? Why?”

“You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?”

“So I’ve been told. I can’t help it. I naturally have a curious mind.”

“I can tell. It’s none of your business anyways.”

I looked him over, sensing a sort of sadness with him, “something happened and you owe someone money.”

His eyes widened, “can you read minds?”

I giggle, “no, but I’ve been told I can read people pretty well.”

“I’ll say. Yeah, I may or may not have ruined my brother’s chances of going to his dream school and making millions of dollars. My pa kicked me out because of it, and I’m determined not to go back till I make a fortune.”

“Woah, sadder than I thought it would be. Well, if you need a place to stay while you go on your mission to make millions, I have a spare room you can use. My parents' house is big enough, and they won’t mind.”

“A-are you sure?”

“It’s the least I could do. You look like you could use a friend in this lonely world, and I want to offer my friendship to you.He smiles and nods, reaching his hand out, “name’s Stanley.”

I smile and take his hand to shake, “nice to meet you Stanley, I’m Y/n.”

I walked downstairs trying to remember where the kitchen was. My nightmare last night disorienting me worse than they ever had. I walk in to see Stan making breakfast and the kids sitting at the table whispering to each other. That was till Mabel noticed I was standing there.

“Y/n! You’re awake!” She beamed as Stan froze in place.

“Morning Mabel, Dipper, Stanley.” I greeted everyone.

“Just Stan is fine, thank you.” He kept making breakfast, an unenthused look on face.

“Sorry, Stan.”

I walked over and sat at the table. I looked out the window at the woods surrounding the house. It wasn’t long till my gaze was yanked back towards the kids as they were staring at me. Mabel was smiling, and Dipper looked like he had a billion questions for me.

“So, did you and Grunkle Ford go through the portal together? Or how did you and Grunkle Ford meet?” Mabel broke the silence.

“O-oh, um…we met when he went into the portal. I didn’t meet Stanford until he went through the portal..”

“What was in there anyways? How long have you been in there?”

“Those are hefty questions, I…” I started to speak when Stan walked over with plates of pancakes.

“And ones that should remain unanswered.” Stan spoke, “I’m surprised you’re not helping my brother in the basement anyway.”

“Wh-what would I help with?”

“I’m sure Ford would figure something out. I think you should go ask him.” Stan stated, hinting that I shouldn’t be interacting with the kids. “Come on, I’ll show you where the basement door is.” He offered, gently guiding me out of the kitchen.

“Stan, what’s going on?”

“I don’t want you around the kids. Whatever happened to you there, it was unnatural. I don’t need them figuring out you’re supposed to be like 60.”

“You don’t think I know that? I understand that I’m a freak, but you don’t need to point it out. You have no idea what I went through, and how difficult it was to survive.”

“If it was that hard, why did you go through your darn portal in the first place?”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“Sure you didn’t.”

“Something went wrong Stan! I didn’t want to leave you. There was a malfunction, and I got sucked in. I’ve spent 40 years trying to survive hoping to get back to you, but I guess that doesn’t matter.” We stop at the entrance to the gift shop of the Mystery Shack, “I know where I’m going from here.” I say and walk through the door to the gift shop. I open the vending machine door and head down to the basement.

Stan had no right to judge me like that. He had no idea what I went through, how hard I tried to find a way back to him, but that didn’t matter to him apparently.

“Y/n?” Stanford’s voice rang out.

“Hey…”

“What are you doing down here?”

“Stan doesn’t want me upstairs around the kids.”

“What? I thought you two were friends?”

“We were…but he thinks the fact I am unaged…if the kids find out it’ll freak them out.”

“The nightmare realm really messed you up huh?”

“You have no idea…Bill was obsessed. Would do anything to get me to reveal where you were. He went as far as manipulating my mind to look like he was torturing Stan…he knew you two were my weakness…”

“Now talk! Or Stan gets it!” Bill threatened.

“You’ve used that on me too many times, Cipher! Stan isn’t here, and I know you wouldn’t go after him in the mind!”

“Is. That. Right.” Bill squinted at me.

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you Bill, I don’t know who this Sixer fella is.”

“To think I was starting to like you, but the lying is getting annoying.”

“I’m not lying. I don’t know who he is.”

Bill snaps his fingers making chains appear around my wrists and ankles. He makes me levitate there as one of his henchmaniacs yells to electrocute me to get me to talk. Bill laughs and suddenly my body is sent spasming as hundreds of volts of electricity surges through my body.

“To think I actually liked you. You were the first person to try to build a portal from my decaying dimension to enter yours. I would have loved for us to be partners in chaos had you succeeded. Too bad you decided to lie to me.”

Bill stops electrocuting me for a minute. My body is weak as I float there in front of Bill and his henchmaniacs. “I-I don’t know where he is…he escaped this dimension years ago…”

“And the truth comes out. Maybe you’re still useful to me afterall.”

I shot up in the chair I was sitting in, cold sweat running down my forehead. I pant heavily as I take in my surroundings. I was in the basement with Stanford. I slowly remembered I wasn’t in the night realm anymore. I looked down at my wrists still feeling like I had chains on them.

“You okay?” Stanford’s voice broke me from my thoughts.

“These nightmares are getting more and more vivid.”

Stanford looks at me knowingly. His eyes are filled with concern and guilt. I knew he felt bad leaving us refugees in the asteroid when he decided to venture out to find materials to build his weapon to defeat Bill. I never blamed him though. He only did what he felt he had to do.

“Why don’t you head upstairs. I feel the longer you’re down here, close to the portal, the more of a grasp Bill will have on you.”

I nod, “what about Stan?”

“Tell him I told you that being down here isn’t good. You need to get accustomed to society again, and being down here is not going to be any good to you.”

I nod, “thanks Stanford.”

He smiles softly, “you know, you can call me Ford if you like.”

I smile softly, “thank you, Ford.”

He nods, and goes back to doing what he was doing. I head back upstairs feeling even more disoriented than I did that morning. The nightmares hit me harder and harder each time I close my eyes. I slowly opened the door to see Stan. Mabel, and Dipper are sitting in the gift shop laughing and joking with each other.

Stan notices me and glares, “what do you need?”

“Ford said it wasn’t a good idea for me to stay down there. He wants me to try and get accustomed to society again.”

Stan rolls his eyes, “fine. If you say so.”

“Look, you can be pissed at me all you want to, but I’m sorry I left you behind. I’m sorry it took me so long, but if you had never opened that portal, I wouldn’t be back here. I realized I never thanked you for doing so. So, thank you. Thank you for bringing me back home.”

Stan’s eyes widened. He wasn’t expecting either of us to thank him. He knew what he did was idiotic and reckless. He smiled at me softly, “you’re welcome toots. I couldn’t leave you there for any longer. But, New Jersey is your home, not Gravity Falls?”

“Gravity Falls is now. It’s where my two best friends are. There’s nothing left for me in New Jersey.”

[kantocamping]

Kichijiro. He/Him. 40s. Experienced pokemon trainer and studying ornithologist. Currently making a living selling/trading pokemon professionally; please inquire if you're looking for a pokemon native to Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, or Sinnoh.

I don't do competitive battling anymore, but I did in the past (non-circuit) so I may speak on the subject now and again. I'm also living in an RV for work purposes (no, I don't need help, I'm not homeless, I could buy a house if I wanted) and will likely also post about that from time to time. I don't care if you find it boring.

Please ask me about ornithology and my current research projects in Kantonian farfetch'd and its possible evolution.

My current team consists of pidgeot, noctowl, psyduck, delibird, farfetch'd, and rowlet. Feel free to ask about them as well.

// ooc

hiiii <3 my name is kristopher!! he/him + 22 :] i'm an enviro science/agriculture student, avid birder, and passionate hiker + camper!! please keep in mind that i'm a white american trying to portray a japanese man as best i can; feel free to let me know if i get anything wrong or do anything insensitive!!

i also run @pikachuwanted (meowth)

the pokemon lore i go with is based on a mixture of the games, anime, and comics, alongside my own headcanons that i've come up with over the years!! i'm totally okay with people interacting who have differing and even totally contradicting hcs to my own!! it's all in good fun.

that said, generally some baseline 'rules' (and i use the word loosely) that'll likely come up often enough i go with are:

pokemon are typically more intelligent than real animals and are treated as such. they have an understanding of human concepts that real animals don't, and can even communicate now and again. however, even humanoid pokemon still have animalistic behaviors, since they're not humans.

while multiple universes do exist, kichijiro is generally unaware of and skeptical about this concept. most direct references to this will be glossed over and not taken seriously by him. i generally just don't really like storylines like this and probably won't engage in them.

legendary pokemon are provably real, but rarely seen, and never documented as being captured by trainers. i won't ignore characters that have legendaries, but this won't be referenced outside of direct interactions! pseudo-legendaries are just considered to be very rare.

please keep the following in mind when interacting with me!

content warning: this blog may at any time contain themes of smoking, drinking, alcoholism/drug use, suicidal thoughts, pokemon death/abuse, veterinary practices, organized crime, guns, and non-canon typical violence. bolded topics will always be tagged! please let me know if you want anything else to specifically be tagged.

pelipper mail is on, but please don't go crazy with it, i'll just ignore it if i don't know what to say or think it's not going to be fun for me. magic anons are off.

fallers and sentient pokemon are fine to interact, but i'd rather not interact with eebies specifically

i'm totally down to write literate threads if anyone wants! i love long-form writing and am more than happy to plot something out. all of these will either be on discord or @finefeatheredfoes

kichijiro is not a nice man! he's trying to be better, but he's a generally rude person who's done a lot of bad things in his life and has been in rough circles for over 20 years. he might be mean, but this doesn't reflect my thoughts on you/your character at all!! if this upsets you, please just let me know.

related, but if you have ANY issues with me please please PLEASE bring them up to me in dms!!! i'm always willing to talk things out, and i'll never freak out on you or whatever :]

[beweepbomp]

I NEEDED TO URGENTLY VENT BECAUSE IDK WAHT ELSE TO DO.

A lil background. I knew my sexuality as like early as 12. I had two gfs but never anything physical. Now as adult trying to venture out to physical things with another woman. This person we will refer to as Lizzy, from the convos we had never was with a woman in any manner ever but interested to try with me. Okay now this is the insane shit i went thru. enjoy.

Lizzy matched on tinder with me and she asked after some great chit chatting to exchange #'s. Sounds great what could go wrong. After several back n forth spicy texts of what we want to do finally we say hey we should definitely meet up. A few days pass by to finally our meet up date. Science. Ghosted. Okay no biggie. 19 DAYS LATER “Hi i got busy how are you?” I brush it off things do happen and I’m trying to be reasonable. I reply with a hello. No reply again. 40 DAYS LATER “How are you?” At this point I roll my eyes. This is not worth the energy but wow she’s actually replying back idk maybe just shit happens. She tells me it’s been a busy summer travel & work. Okay fair. She shows me cute magnets she made and tells me she’s house sitting.

After a few text exchanges she’s asking me to come over. I get hesitant but she insists. WHAT COULD GO WRONG I SAY? I text her I’ll get ready and take an Uber over. Let me tell you i was giving femme hotness. My skirt was so hiked up. My cute shirt low v cut. Had a jean jacket since it was late into the night. I’m jittery with excitement. I call my best friend she gets the address and says to text me after etc. I order the Uber which was $30+ DOLLARS but i was too excited to care. In the middle of my Uber drive she texts she’s having a panic attack and throwing up. I feel awful. Did i freak her out? But i kept reassuring that we don’t need to do anything physical even when i arrive. No pressure. Assuring to have full consent before engaging in anything. But she insists she’s stuck in the bathroom throwing up and to turn around. Now I’m over 20 minutes away from my apartment around 11:30pm in the middle of the damn suburbs. I arrive and ask by text if i can just sit in the living room until the next Uber comes she says no. I’m outside alone in a foreign place terrified. I video chat with my best friend explaining the situation and she’s in shock as well. Putting me in danger in the middle of nowhere , just alone. Just perfect. My gay ass in the wind trying to remain calm since the streets are barely lit and i have no immediate way home. The connection to data is shitty but im able to order another Uber. Another $30+ out of to go back. But it’s fine no one’s fault right.

She insistently asks texting when my Uber will ber here. My connection isn’t great but it shows 9 minutes. It’s been at least 8 minutes now but the Uber isn’t properly showing the accurate time. My best friend what a god send kept me sane as i waited but a car pulls up and it definitely isn’t my Uber. “Oh i thought you were the girl im meeting with.” OH MY GOD i laugh almost loosing my mind. I point to her house, “oh no no she’s in there.’ Thankfully my Uber arrives as the guy calls out you’re beautiful. Oh thanks bud. Lizzy texts me to say that’s my friend helping me with my panic attack. of course i say seriously you have to be fucking joking. I freak out on her thru text and she insists she’d never intentionally try to put anyone in danger and every other excuse in the book and STILL try’s to see if we will meet up again. Of course i tell her she is fucking nuts and maybe next time be a hospitable hoe if you’re gonna be a hoe at all. I’m not against it but also don’t make a crazy lie and embarrass me. I have no idea im like crushed to seek out afraid to have the same experience of wacky shit. What do i do???? Help pls