#the woman is not perfect like jesus christ let her be

[lightscamerabitchsmileee]

A hot take here: but can we all agree that it's not an artist or actor or athlete or any other celebrities' responsibility to be a political activist on every single goddamn issue?? Like for fuck sakes guys give it a rest...I'm sick of it

[pedrospatch]

flutter

Jackson! Joel Miller x Pregnant! Female Reader

snapshots masterlist

summary: When you finally start to show, Joel has a tough time with it as the reality sinks in—he’s going to be a father again.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) PREGNANCY. established relationship. no mention of reader’s age, however in other works for this universe, it is implied she is younger than Joel, her specific age will never be stated so do with that what you will. brief descriptions of a pregnant woman’s changing body, brief mention of morning sickness, mention of breastfeeding (it only comes up in a conversation very briefly) these subjects can possibly be triggering, especially mentions of a changing body, so while i try to handle everything with the utmost care, i still ask that you proceed with caution. domesticity, reader enjoys taking care of her family, ellie is a little shit, grumpy joel, he’s sort of a dick at first? but only because he’s working through some feelings so let’s forgive him, okay?

word count: 3.5k

a/n: this is part of the snapshots universe, but it could absolutely be read as a standalone too. minimal editing, this has been sitting in my drafts and i did a quick edit during my lunch hour, so please excuse any mistakes.

“Shit.”

You almost can’t believe your own two eyes. Staring at your reflection in the large, oval shaped mirror hanging over the porcelain bathroom sink, your gaze widens in complete surprise. “Jesus Christ,” you mutter, turning to the side. It takes your brain about a good minute or two to process, really process, the way that your belly strains against the thin, white cotton of your camisole. It had seemingly swollen overnight—because it hadn’t been this prominent the day before, had it?

Over the last few months, there’d been changes.

Some subtle and some not so subtle.

“Ellie! Stop fucking staring at them,” you’d scolded the teenager late one evening during yours and hers weekly game night. For as hard as you tried focusing on what move you should make next, it was hard to concentrate on the chessboard in front of you when you could feel the way her eyes were fixed on your breasts. “I mean it! Quit staring at my boobs, you little shit.”

She held up her hands, her mouth full of popcorn.

“Hey, in my defense, they’re just fucking there, man. If anything, they’re fucking staring at me, okay?”

During your chess rematch the following week, you had accidentally knocked one of your pawn pieces off of the table. When you’d stood up and bent over to pick it up, she had made the observation that your butt seemed to have gotten a little bigger too.

“Bet Joel’s liking these changes,” Ellie had smirked. “It sure as hell explains why the headboard’s been banging against the wall more than usual lately.”

You threw the pawn at her, smiling in satisfaction when it bounced off her forehead and landed into her glass of lemonade.

One part of your body, however, hadn’t changed.

Not until now.

“Hon, trust me, you have nothing to be worried about,” Maria had assured you with confidence when you had brought up your concerns about your stomach. “Every woman, and every pregnancy, is different. I didn’t start showing until I was around six months, remember?”

“I guess you’re right.” You’d been around four months, then. “Doesn’t help that I haven’t felt the baby move.”

“You will,” Maria had promised. “Just be patient”

Biting your lip, you place a hand on your belly.

It’s always been one of the softer parts of you, but now, it’s firmed into a perfect, round bump.

“Maybe soon I’ll feel you move,” you murmur, giving it a gentle pat. You tug the lace hem of your camisole down as far as it can go and then pull at the elastic waistband of your blue, terry cloth shorts.

Shutting off the lights in the bathroom, you slip out into the bedroom where you find that Joel’s still tangled up in the sheets, fast asleep. He had been assigned to the afternoon patrol route today—normally an early riser, if he was still snoozing, it meant that he really needed the rest. Deciding it was best to let him keep sleeping for a little while longer, you quietly tiptoe out of your shared bedroom and head downstairs into the kitchen.

After making yourself a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice, and one for the kid as well, you prepare the coffee maker for Joel. You spoon dark roast grounds into the filter and set the timer for the coffee to start brewing in thirty minutes.

He should be up by then, you think, pulling a basket of eggs out of the refrigerator.

You’re starting to get used to this. Domesticity.

Despite your protests, Maria had made the decision to pull you off patrol that same afternoon you had shared the news of your pregnancy. “I’m putting you on leave,” she’d told you. “Effective immediately. I don’t want to see you outside of these walls. Got it?”

“That’s not fair, Maria. You were out on patrol until—”

One stern glare from her had shut you right up.

“Fine.”

Sure, you missed it and looked forward to the day when you’d be able to get back into the saddle with your rifle in hand, but this way of life had grown on you. Certainly a lot more than you thought it would.

You enjoyed taking care of the house. Packing Ellie her lunch for school and checking her homework. Having a nice a meal on the table for the three of you to enjoy in the comfort of your own home instead of having to go down to the crowded mess hall for supper because you and Joel were both always much, much too tired after a long day out on patrol to bother with cooking.

With the baby due to arrive in the winter, looking after your little family had become your purpose, and you did not mind it one bit.

As strips of bacon sizzle in one pan on the gas powered stove, you crack a couple of eggs into another, knowing the kid is already on her way downstairs. You can hear the sound of her old, tattered low top sneakers that you have been trying to throw away for almost a year now squeaking on the kitchen tiles just as you finish plating her breakfast.

“Morning!” Ellie pipes, the loud plop of her backpack into a chair prompting you to turn around. “What’s for brea—whoa! Holy shit!” Her brown eyes widen in shock when she sees you and her jaw drops. “Dude.”

“Ellie,” you say her name warningly as you walk over to the table. “Don’t.”

“You’re bigger!”

With a playful glare, you set her plate down, along with her glass of orange juice. “Thanks a lot, you little jerk.” You feign offense. “You’re making your own eggs from now on.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Ellie’s cheeks flush a shade of red and she squirms, sputtering apologetically, “I swear, I don’t mean it like that at all. It’s just, your stomach, it didn’t—you didn’t look like this last night, you know?”

She’s fucking lucky that your raging hormones decided to take the morning off duty.

“You look different. I mean, you look great—”

“Ellie?”

“Yeah?”

“Just shut up and eat.”

“Deal.”

She shoots you a sheepish grin and sits down, scarfing down her food in her usual manner. 

“You get your fractions homework done?”

“Yeah.” Ellie huffs, rolling her eyes. “Took me forever. I was up until fucking midnight.”

Amused, you offer, “Want me to check your work?”

“Sure.”

As Ellie inhales the rest of her breakfast, you pull out a green, single subject notebook from her backpack and look over her homework for miscalculations.

“So, uh, how are you feeling?” she asks after a minute.

“I’m feeling alright. I think the morning sickness finally stopped, so can’t complain.” Shrugging, you close the notebook and stick it into her backpack. “You did good, kid. Only got two problems wrong.”

“Man, I really wish we knew whether it’s a boy or girl,” Ellie mumbles through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. “What do you want to have, anyway?”

“It doesn’t matter to me, Ellie,” you answer, honestly. Clocking the skepticism on her face, you laugh and say, “It’s true. As long as the baby’s healthy, that’s all I care about.” And you mean it. As an expectant mother in the post outbreak world where medicine is scarce, supplies are limited, and the closest thing you have to a hospital is the town’s old clinic, the only thing you can hope for is the smooth, safe delivery of a healthy child.

Before she can say anything, you both catch the sound of Joel’s heavy boots as he descends the staircase.

She quirks an eyebrow. “Uh, has Joel seen you yet?”

Grimacing, you shake your head. “No.”

“Well, I don’t wanna be here for all that awkward,” Ellie says, chugging the rest of her orange juice. She stands up and snatches up her backpack, along with her lunch bag, which you’d packed for her earlier that morning. Just as she’s about to whirl around on the heel of her sneaker and make a run for the front door, she pauses, watching as you make your way back over to the stove to light another flame. “Unless you want me to be?”

“I’ll be fine, Ellie,” you assure her. “Go on, get to school. Maybe you’ll be on time to class for once.”

“If you say so.” She wishes you luck and then bolts out of the kitchen, throwing a quick goodbye at Joel on the way out. “See ya later, old man!”

Nervously, you turn around and start cracking another two eggs into the pan. There’s no telling how he’s going to react.

Joel’s been fairly supportive since you’d found out you were pregnant, considering how unplanned it was. But you know him like the back of your own hand, and you know, despite the numerous times he’s denied it, that it has been weighing heavily on him. Each time you’d try to sit down to talk to him about it, he would brush you off and insist he was fine. But he wasn’t fine.

And you wish he would spit it out and tell you why.

In your periphery, you notice the stained glass butterfly he had hung in front of the window above the sink, the ornament catching and refracting the sunlight. Flecks of color dance across the walls in captivating patterns, brightening the space. You think of the sweet little girl he’d hung it for, the little girl he rarely talks about, that he keeps tucked away safely in his memory.

You bite back a small sigh.

By now, you’ve learned not to push him. Especially not about what he was feeling. He would tell you when he was ready.

“Who the hell lit a fire under her ass this mornin’?” Joel asks gruffly as he walks into the kitchen. “She ain’t ever this fuckin’ eager to go to school.”

“Not sure,” you reply in the most nonchalant tone you can muster as you use a spatula to scramble the eggs. Transferring them onto a plate, you add three strips of bacon, and then pour his coffee. “I have your breakfast ready, Joel. Have a seat.”

You hear a chair scrape against the tile.

“I keep tellin’ you I can make my own breakfast, darlin’.”

“And I keep telling you I don’t mind making it for you,” you quip, and you hear him grumble something under his breath.

Inhaling a deep, calming breath through your nose, you take the plate of eggs and bacon in one hand, and his cup of coffee in the other. Your fingers grasp the handle of his ceramic, owl mug in a near death grip. You exhale slowly, and then turn around to face him.

He sees your swollen middle and stiffens in his chair. 

The tension is instantaneous. Palpable.

Uncomfortable.

Awkwardly, you shift from one foot to the other.

“Your belly,” Joel murmurs, a visible tick in his jaw as his gaze drags over your midsection. “S’bigger.”

“Yeah. It is. Guess I’m going to have to start trading for maternity clothes soon,” you remark, shuffling over to the table. Setting down the plate and mug of coffee in front of him, you take a seat across the table. Your eyes try desperately to meet his, but they refuse. There’s no way for you to decipher what he’s thinking. You let out a small, nervous laugh. “Can you please say something?” 

He lightly clears his throat. “I’ll take you to Main Street on Saturday,” he tells you, picking up his mug. “I’ve got the day off from patrol. I’ll, uh, pick through some of my own things and see what I don’t need so we can make a trade for some clothes.” He pauses, then offers quietly, “In the meantime, you can wear my shirts. They might be more comfortable for you.”

You flash him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Joel.”

Sipping his coffee, he continues to avoid your gaze.

“Mhm,” is all he says.

Your smile falters.

It’s the middle of August.

The afternoon heat is sweltering. Unforgiving.

“Jesus, it’s a fuckin’ scorcher,” Tommy sighs, glancing over towards the lake where his mare, Maxine, is taking a drink beside his brother’s stallion, Phoenix. His raven curls are damp with sweat, plastered to his forehead. “Hotter than the devil’s fuckin’ balls out here, ain’t it?”

He’s met with silence.

Looking over his shoulder, he sees Joel leaning against a tree, his rifle in hand as he stares at the Grand Tetons in the distance almost like he’s in a trance. “Joel?”

Blinking furiously, Joel shakes his head. “Sorry, you say somethin’ to me just now?” He asks in a daze, pushing away from the lodgepole pine. “We headin’ out?”

“You’ve been actin’ real strange all afternoon,” Tommy observes, walking towards him with his own gun slung over his shoulder. “Either the heat is startin’ to get to you, or you’ve got somethin’ on your mind, big brother.”

Joel hesitates. His dark eyes flit to the other side of the lake where the other members of their afternoon patrol group are refilling their canteens with water.

“S’alright,” his younger brother says. “Don’t worry ‘bout them. Can’t hear us.”

Joel’s chest heaves with a heavy sigh. “She popped.”

“Huh?”

“Her belly finally popped. She’s showin’ now.”

Amused, Tommy lightly shakes his head. “Y’shouldn’t be so surprised, Joel. Was ‘bout time,” he remarks with a shrug. “What is she—like six months along now?”

“She’ll be six months in a couple weeks.” Joel wipes the perspiration off his brow with the back of his hand and sighs once more. “Look, I ain’t stupid, Tommy. I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later, but it still caught me by surprise. When I saw her, it became real for me. She’s got my kid in there. I’m gonna be a dad again.”

“You’re scared.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement.

“Shitless,” Joel confesses, feeling his chest tighten. 

“What are you afraid of?”

Joel almost laughs.

He doesn’t know where to start.

He’s afraid of everything.

“All of it, Tommy. I’m afraid for her, havin’ to give birth with no medicine,” he tells him, his voice breaking. “I’m afraid I won’t remember what to do with a newborn or that I won’t know how to help her durin’ those first few months—”

“This ain’t your first rodeo,” Tommy reminds him. “You did it once, and you did just fine, Joel.”

“That was over three fuckin’ decades ago. And it was a different world. If Sarah—” He stops, taking a second to catch his breath. The image of his daughter’s little face flashing in his mind feels like a violent punch to the gut. Even after all this time, it still knocks all of the wind out of his lungs. “When her mom had trouble breastfeedin’ her, I could head to the grocery store and buy her baby formula. If she got a real bad fever, I could load her up in the truck and drive her to the emergency room.” He glances down at his broken watch. “Besides, I was a lot younger, then. And I wasn’t half fuckin’ deaf like I am now. When Sarah would wake up cryin’ in the middle of the night because she needed a diaper change, I’d hear her. What if I can’t hear my own kid cryin’?”

“Joel—”

“I’m in my fifties. What if I can’t keep up because I’m too fuckin’ old?”

Tommy reaches out, clapping a hand onto his shoulder.

“Brother, I need you to take a fuckin’ breath,” he says, chuckling softly. “You’re puttin’ the weight of the world of your shoulders right now—you need to put some of it down. Look, we might not have everythin’ we used to before the world ended, but we make do with what we do have. Considerin’ just how many growin’ families we have and how many little ones we’ve got runnin’ around our town, I’d say it’s workin’ out pretty fuckin well.” He gives his shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “And as far as your ability to be a good dad, you’ve still got it, Joel. You know what to do, and so does she. I’ve seen her in action with my little boy, and it seems like she’s already got those maternal instincts, y’know?”

“Yeah, she does,” Joels agrees quietly, thinking of how you had stepped up to help him care for Ellie.

“Trust me, between the two of you, it’ll be alright.”

He peers at him. “You really believe I still got it in me?”

“I do.” Tommy smiles. “You never stopped knowin’ how to be a father, Joel. You’re gonna be just fine.”

Their patrol shift extends into the evening, turning into a double, and it’s late when he gets home. 

“What the hell are you still doin’ up?” Joel asks when he finds Ellie sitting at the kitchen table, cursing to herself as she flips through the stale, yellowing pages of an old life science text book.

“What does it fucking look like, man?”

“Shouldn’t have waited until the last minute, kiddo—”

Ellie holds up a hand and cuts him off.

“Save the lecture for another time, dude. I’m busy.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Finish up and get to bed. S’late.”

Without waiting for some smartass response, he turns on the heel of his boot and then heads upstairs to your shared bedroom. He flips on the lights only to find that you’re already in bed, fast asleep, wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties. He toes off his boots and leaves them by the door, being as quiet as he possibly can as he rummages through his top drawer for some clean boxers to sleep in.

He slips into the bathroom where he takes a quick, hot shower, scrubbing off that day’s sweat, dirt, and grime. After he’s dressed and his sopping wet, salt and pepper curls are haphazardly towel dried, Joel walks back out into the bedroom where he switches off the lights and climbs into bed next to you.

He lays on his side and he’s just about to close his eyes when he feels a light shift beside him. You roll over and curl into him, your belly pressing up against his curve of his spine.

He stiffens, freezing as if someone had just placed the barrel of their pistol against his back, their finger over the trigger.

Christ, get a damn grip, he thinks silently to himself.

Joel thinks about that morning in the kitchen.

He knows his reaction had hurt you. Or rather, his lack of a reaction. His shitty ways of coping aren’t your fault, and his struggle to come to terms with your pregnancy sure as hell isn’t your fault, either. He owed it to you to try harder to be the man you needed.

The man you both needed.

Joel’s train of thought comes to a screeching halt when he feels a soft flutter against his middle of his back, the spot right where your tummy is nestled—did the baby just move?

He lies still, waiting to see if he feels it again, and when he doesn’t, he rolls over to face you, causing you to stir.

“Joel?” you mumble his name, sleepily. “What time—?”

“Shh,” Joel soothes, pulling you into his bare chest. He kisses your temple. “S’okay, baby. Go back to sleep.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice.

Within seconds, you’re asleep again, snuggled into him and snoring softly.

Lifting a hand, he hesitates, then rests it on your belly.

He waits.

And waits.

And waits.

And waits.

Until the minutes turn into hours.

Until dawn’s light filters in through the lace curtains. 

Until he finally feels that little flutter again.

He feels it against the palm of his hand. Faint, nothing more than a brief whisper against his skin, but there is no mistaking it.

He’d just felt the baby’s movement.

There’s a sudden shift.

Tense muscles that had been painfully wound up since the moment you’d mentioned to him your period was a week late back in the spring loosen slightly—the breath he had been holding since he’d picked up that positive pregnancy test from the bathroom counter finally falls from his lips, fanning over yours.

His fears, his worries, his uncertainties about what lies ahead, they’re all still there, of course, but he finds they are now accompanied by a glimmer of hope, a sliver of optimism that maybe, just maybe, Joel doesn’t have to be as afraid as he is.

Joel’s eyes glaze over your face, warmth radiating in his chest when you breathe a little a sigh of content in your sleep as he gently rubs your stomach through his shirt.

With his hand still splayed over your belly, he closes his eyes and begins to drift off, falling into the most decent sleep he’s had in the last few months.

Maybe his brother’s right.

Maybe he will be just fine.

divider credit to @saradika 🤍

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Extra Credit - Rafe Cameron One Shot

+18 Minor DNI

CollegeProfessor!Rafe x CollegeStudent!Reader

��� republished ⭐

+18 Minor DNI

🪄 Fingering, oral (female receiving), unprotected p in v, pet names, squirting, overstimulation, breeding kink, praise kink, ownership kink, creampie, cum play, older Rafe

📖 College Student Reader is close to a C and decides to ask her gorgeous professor for some extra credit.

✨ This - This is a man. Sure, I’ve been with plenty of boys, but this is divine. I can tell that he knows what he’s doing: how to kiss, how to touch a woman. I need him. All of him. ✨

3.1 k lightly edited (<- mostly smut) I'll be adding part 2 soon :)

“I'm so close to a C,” you grumble, eyes rolling as you hold yet another Econ test between your fingers; D+ scrolled in blood-red ink. “Another fuckin’ D.”

“A D+, actually,” your friend teases, tapping the top.

“Well, would you look at that?" You sass, readjusting yourself from your slumped state, eyes drifting ahead, matching Professor Cameron’s. He represses a smile, running his palm against his lips.

"Do they do extra credit in college?” You whine, leaning into your friend, resting your head on her shoulder as you continue to sulk.

“Professor C? No fuckin’ way; the guy’s a hard ass.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” You look his way again, just missing his eyes. “He looks sweet,” you whisper.

“He’s hot as fuck,” she adds, making your cheeks flush pink. “Is he married? I don’t see a ring.” She studies him a little further, trying to get a better look.

“Why does it matter?” You ask, narrowing your gaze on him.

“Meh. It doesn’t, but it makes it easier. You said you wanted extra credit, sunshine.” She wiggles her eyebrows, elbowing you playfully.

“Just tell me what you’re getting at,” you huff. “Class is almost over, and I need to figure this shit out.”

“Jesus Christ, babe. You want extra credit. He's not married. And he already looks at you like he wants to devour you.”

“Eat me?”

“If that’s what you’re into, or you could suck him off, I suppose," she giggles as you let out a little gasp. ”Ugh… Stop clutching your pearls. If he was lookin’ at me like that, he’d be blowin’ my back out every day of the week.“

”So, you really think he likes me?“ Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you turn in his direction. He’s not looking at me…

"Just give it a second," your friend breathes.

Professor Cameron thumbs through the remaining stack of tests, handing another small pile to his teacher’s assistant before snagging his school bag and coffee cup. Your stomach floods with butterflies as he matches your gaze, walking toward the lecture hall steps.

”Just fucking do it,“ she groans. ”Even if you don’t get the extra credit, at least you’ll get somethin’ out of it.“

"Something?”

“Dick… Seriously. What the fuck, girl?" 

"Stop bein’ mean,” you whine. ‘What if he doesn’t want me?“

”Sure,“ she laughs.

You walk down the hallway, heading toward the faculty offices. Wandering slowly as you skim the name plaques, searching for his.

Professor Rafe Cameron

Rafe? You bite back a nervous smile. I’ve never met a "Rafe” before. You lift your fist, giving the door a soft knock.

“Come in," he calls from behind it. You twist the handle; Rafe’s blue eye expands slightly, along with his smile. It quickly fades. Maybe he doesn’t want me here. Maybe I need to go.

”I’m sorry. I… Well, I didn’t make an appointment,“ you babble, twirling your hair nervously.

"No - No. It’s alright,” he assures, the corners of his lips curling as he says the words. “Take a seat. Please.” He gestures to the leather chair across from his large desk. You walk over taking a seat, smoothing your little skirt before matching his eyes. He addresses you by Miss, surprising you when he uses your last name, falling from his lips with ease. You’re taken aback, frazzled at the moment that he knows you by name, out of a lecture hall full of students.

I’m clearly not an exceptional student. There are students with perfect scores in my class. Maybe he’s just thoughtful. Maybe he remembers everyone’s names.

“Are you alright?" He asks as he leans back in his chair slightly, adjusting in his seat.

"Umm… Just a little nervous," you let out a flighty laugh as he gives you his full attention.

"I don’t bite," he smiles, crossing his arm across his broad chest. You watch as his linen shirt stretches across his strong arms. You study him a little more, taking in his features. You’ve never gotten to see him this close: perfectly quaffed locks, just the right amount of stubble on his chiseled jaw. He’s loosened his tie since you saw him last, Rafe’s top button drawn open as well, a peek of a gold chain matching his ring-adorned fingers. He guides your attention back to his eyes, using your first name this time, making your heart race.

"So, is there anything I can help you with?” He asks you again with a softer tone, just trying to pull any sort of answer out of you.

“Sorry… Umm. I’m not doing very well in your class. I just - I’m not used to doing so poorly.” His eyes soften on yours as you continue to spin your sob story. “I seem to do well on my papers, but, I do really bad on my tests.”

His lips tug to the side, brows knitting tight. “Well, that’s because I grade your papers,” he hums as he turns his swivel chair toward his computer, pulling up the gradebook. “My T.A. is on a little bit of a power trip this semester. And it does not help that you’re stunning. Think someone’s a little jealous,” he chuckles. You feel heat spread across your cheeks as you take in his compliment. “We’ll see if we can work something out.”

Professor Cameron matches your smile, lingering a little while before returning to his screen. “Alright…” He takes a deep breath, squinting slightly before taking out some black glasses. “Let’s see what we’re workin’ with.” He scans the numbers, writing down a few things on a little Post-It note. “So it looks like lesson 5, 6, and 8 tests were all D’s.” You nod your head in acknowledgment. “Well, you can retake these if you’d like. And, I can regrade them for you; skip the middleman.”

“Really?” You bubble.

“'Course,” he breathes. “There’s no reason those tests should be that low given what you know. I’m very impressed with your written work.”

“Yeah?” You expel a sigh of relief.

“Yeah… I would bet that you could finish the course with at least a B.”

“Wow, Professor Cameron. Thank you so much. At least… So, I could maybe get an A?” You smile, sweetening your tone, just playing around, doing your best to lighten the mood.

“Maybe,” he chuckles, relaxing back in his chair. “I don’t see why not. And we can always talk about extra credit if you’d like.”

“Extra credit? That would be really nice, Professor Cameron.” Your eyes fall to his thigh; two thick fingers moving ever so slightly, tracing the sleek black material, making your mind wander as you think about what he could do with his hands, if he was rough or gentle. He looks like he’d be rough.

“Yeah, extra credit,” he hums; you follow his gaze, eyes lost in your cleavage, hidden slightly by your oversized jean jacket.

“What can I do for you, Professor Cameron," the words leave your lips before you can think them through. "F-For extra credit, that is," you recover quickly your cheeks shifting from a pretty blush to a deep red hue.

He fights off a smile, rapping his ringed finger against the wood desk a few times."Whatever you’re comfortable with," he breathes. Rafe raises his hand, brushing away his smile just as he did in the classroom. This time, more of a smirk.

Whatever I’m comfortable with… He wants me to? Maybe?

Grabbing your jean jacket, you pull it off your shoulders, exposing your pink top, black lace peeking out."I’ll do whatever it takes to get an "A,” Professor Cameron.“

"You will, now?” he sighs, sinking in his seat slightly, widening his thighs, making himself a little more comfortable. “You sure about that?”

“Mhmm," you breathe as you lean in closer, giving him a better view of your breasts. He lets out a sinful laugh, loosening his tie a little more than before, his icy blue eyes darkening along with yours.

”And, you’d do anything it takes to get that “A." Huh?" He mumbles as you work the satin straps over your shoulders, letting it fall around your waist.

"Anything.”

“Shit," he draws out the word, snatching his glasses off his face before rising in his seat. He’s tall, far taller from this angle, towering over you as he walks around the desk, designer dress shoes shuffling along the floor.

"Are you married, Professor Cameron?”

“Nah… I’m not. I’m single. And, you can call me Rafe if you’d like," he rasps, pawing his tie the rest of the way off. ”Are you single? Anyone taking care of you.“

"Just me," you whisper, your innocent eyes set on his.

"Just me. Huh?" He echoes. You nod as he grips the armrests of your swivel chair, towing you closer. "These boys not cuttin’ it for you, princess?" You shake your head 'no’. You can see the print of Rafe’s long, thick cock; pressing against his slacks. "I’m gonna take care of you." He takes hold of your chin with a heavy hand.

"Okay, Ra-” He steals your words, claiming your lips against his. Rafe catches your moan in his mouth, answering with his own. You let out a little gasp as he lifts you to your feet, bringing you closer. The two of you work on what little clothing remains between sloppy kisses, tearing it off each other’s bodies until all that’s left are his black boxer briefs.

Rafe groans as his rough fingers glide down your smooth skin, tracing the small of your waist, massaging and pressing your breasts together as his eyes roll back. He lifts you effortlessly, taking you into his strong arms. You hold on tight as Rafe swipes his palm across the desk, making the items tumble to the floor. He lays you on top, lips barely losing contact, kissing you roughly.

Your hands drift down his chest, journeying lower and lower. You rake your hands back up, feeling his muscles, resting on his chest, feeling his heart pound underneath. You dig your nails into his skin, making him hiss out a breath.

You feel the chill of his rings against your hot skin as he squeezes your tits, shoving them together. “Jesus fuck, baby girl,” he mutters, locking down on your nipple, swirling and flicking, leaving you a whimpering mess. “You look good… So fuckin’ good,” he groans, running two thick fingers between your thighs, skimming your slit. “How are you so wet?” He growls.

You take in his scent, rich and delicious, amplified by the warmth of his bare skin. You reach for him desperately, pulling him to your lips as he rocks into you, thrusting languidly, stroking your aching pussy with his clothed cock. His gold chain sways, with each roll of his hips brushing against your cleavage.

“Please,” you whimper, desperate for more.

“Want me to eat your pussy, angel? Hmm? Bend you over my desk?”

“Yes, Rafe. Fuck," you whimper.

He lowers himself between your legs, looping his arms under your thighs, pulling you toward his face. Rafe spreads your legs, kissing you deeply, marking you in a way that’ll surely leave a bruise, teasing you as his digits slip closer. You take a grip on his sandy-blonde hair, pulling him nearer as you buck your hips, craving more friction between the two of you. Rafe breathes warmly against your clit, making you melt into the table.

"Rafe-" You beg, your words turning into a breathy cry as he plunges his tongue deeply, drawing out slowly, licking a line to your clit that has your body quaking. He sucks your bud, releasing you with a pop. Doing it again and again, leaving your thighs trembling uncontrollably. He brushes his tongue side to side on your clit, making your vision blur.

Rafe slings your legs over his broad shoulders, working deeper than before. You grip the edge of the desk; teeth clenched, muscles firing hot as you hold back your cries of pleasure. ”Cum for me...“ He grunts, driving his fingers into you as you nod rapidly.

"Y-Yeah,” you shudder, chasing your climax as he pounds into your dripping cunt.

“Do it.” Rafe curls his fingers inside of you, tension snapping as you moan his name. “Fuck… Say it again. Say my name again," he groans, looking down at you in a drunken haze as he works you through your orgasm.

"Rafe," you breathe. He slips between your legs, cleaning the mess he made with his tongue.

This - This is a man. Sure, I’ve been with plenty of boys, but this is divine. I can tell that he knows what he’s doing: how to kiss, how to touch a woman. I need him. All of him.

"Tastes so fuckin’ good," he mumbles. "Anything?" He asks again as he tugs at the elastic of his boxers.

"Anything," you mewl.

”Need to be inside you,“ he mutters as he pulls his boxers off his body. ”You want that. Don’t you?“

"Yes.”

He gives you a few experimental thrusts, watching you jolt in your sensitivity every time his rock-hard cock nudges your clit. You look at the slight space between the two of you, letting out a desperate moan, yearning to be filled. Rafe’s long, thick dick curved toward his stomach, glistening with precum, smudging against his tight stomach with each rut.

“Fuck me," you plead.

You let out a gasp as he stuffs his cock in your pussy; hips flush with your ass, balls deep; pushing even further. ”R-Rafe...“ You whimper, tears running down your cheeks as you feel the pressure in your guts. 

"Goddamn…" He grunts. ”You’re so fuckin’ tight. Shit - Pussy feels so good.“

”You’re so big,“ you whimper as you press your hand against your tummy.

"You okay? Takin’ me so well…”

“Yeah. M'fine. Feels so fucking good.”

“Been hopin’ you’d walk in my office since the first day I saw you." He brushes your tears away with his thumbs as he kisses your lips, dick buried deep. ”Who woulda thought you be such a slut for your professor. Huh?“

BANG. BANG.

"Hey, Rafe. Are you free?" His colleague yells from outside the door, causing the two of you to freeze. Rafe snares your hips, holding you in place. He draws a finger to his lips, demanding your silence.

"Wanted to see if you could look over something for me.”

Rafe grinds his hips slowly, not wanting to stop, cupping your breast in his hand. He leans down, giving you a soft bite, eyes focused on yours.

“Rafe?” The male tries again, making Rafe roll his eyes in annoyance. You watch as the shadow shifts underneath the door, walking away.

“Fuck, that was close,” he breathes, kissing his way up your stomach. “Come over tonight?”

“You want me to come over to your house?” You whisper as you smile against his lips.

“Need to fuck you in a bed. Want you to ride me. You want that "A.” Yeah?“ He asks, his voice deep and dark.

”Yes, Professor Cameron,“ you smile as you flutter your lashes, your angelic tone contrasting his wicked one entirely.

"You’re a pretty little thing. Fuck. You’re gorgeous," he praises as his swollen tip presses against your entrance, stretching you slightly, making your lips part in a soft "o.” He groans as he nudges himself a little further, rocking into you nice and slow, teasing you with the first few inches and his fat cockhead.

“Rafe… Pl-" Your plea turns into a gasp as he pushes himself inside, bottoming you out completely. Your back arches off the desk, nipples grazing his chest.

Rafe thrusts at a rapid pace, skin striking skin. Knocking you deep in your core. "Such a good girl f'me," he grunts, punctuating each word with a rough thrust leaving you trembling.

You let out a moan that has him rushing to silence you, sealing your mouth with his broad palm, each muffled sound more fucked out than the last.

"You’re killin’ me," he mutters against your neck. "Gonna let you be real loud tonight. Alright? Gotta big fuckin’ house. You can scream as loud as you want." His hand works between your thighs, brushing quickly against your clit; making you dig your nails into his shoulder blades."If I move my hand, are you gonna be a good little whore? Keep that mouth nice and quiet, f'me?”

“Yeah-”

“If you can’t, I can stuff it full for you. Keep you real fuckin’ quiet.”

“N-No. Wanna cum… Fuck, I’m gonna-” His focus falls to the sound of your body gushing, squirting onto his cock and thighs as he continues to pound you into the wooden desk.

Your body clutches him, muscles pulsing. “That’s it, baby. Fuckin’ squeeze me." He looks down at you with half-lidded eyes, trying his best to thrust. Rafe doesn’t give you orders, simply forcing you right where he wants you. Gripping your hips, turning you a moment later, lifting your ass in the air as you take a hold of the desk. You look over your shoulder, watching as he winds up to smack your ass. Stopping himself with a smirk and a raspy laugh. ”I’m gonna ruin you tonight.“ His voice sends chills down your spine. Rafe grips your skin tightly, bunching it up in his hand as he coaxes his dick back in.

He ruts his hips deeply, fingertips driving into the fat of your ass as his hips clap against your skin. "Rafe," you blubber, trying your best to steady yourself on whatever you can grab. You can feel his tip kiss your G-spot with each stroke, working incredibly deep.

"Almost there… Want you to cum with me," he groans.

"Let me cum. I can’t-”

“You will…”

“Please-”

“M'gonna cum, baby," he grunts, hand weaving into your hair. He yanks it back, pulling your orgasm out with it, blanketing your mouth as he silences your cries. You flutter wildly around his cock as he fills you to the brim with his climax. Rafe draws out slowly, letting your releases drip from your cunt; rolling down your inner thigh. He grips his cock in his fist, collecting your shared release, swirling his tip around your entrance before stuffing it deep inside again.

"Goddamn," he mumbles. Swiveling his hips slowly, jagged breaths are heard as he continues to move, completely overstimulated but loving the feeling too much to quit. "Mmm… You’re gonna ride me tonight. Bounce on me; tits in fuckin’ face. This wet fuckin’ pussy is mine..." He moans, already desperate for more, as he palms your soft skin.

You reach for air, doing your best to catch your breath, riding a euphoric high. ”Shit… Did I get an A, Professor Cameron?“ You laugh breathily.

"A” fuckin’ plus, princess.“

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[earlysunshines]

vixen

hirai momo x fem!reader ; pining, fluff, angst, smut

wc: 14.7k

synopsis: when your boyfriend takes you to meet his family the last thing you had expected was to be eyed up and down by his step-sister – and honestly, you’re checking her out too.

warnings: smut!! ; fingering ; oral ; making out against the door, on the couch, in the elevator ; some soft sex ; reader has a *gags* bf ; momo is readers boyfriends’ very hot step sister ; not too happy with the pacing ; pining pining and pining ; brief implied homophobia ; anything else I didn't mention ; not proofread

a/n: i’ve never had a bf ever in my life or even talked to a man romantically so sorry if the whole having a bf part is really bad (lesbian since birth basically)

literally nothing could have ever prepared you for this moment. nothing.

the woman standing right there in front of you, a foot away looking down at you from the door; she’s gorgeous, she’s fucking hot. 

you’re meeting your boyfriend's family for the first time after dating for three months, yeah you were nervous about this whole meeting, picking out appropriate clothes for dinner with his parents and sibling. it was normal to feel this way, however, you’re much more nervous as the woman in front of you scans you down. 

those cheekbones could have been carved by aphrodite herself, sharp and perfect. her eyes, a dark brown, send a shiver down your spine. her lips are a tempting shade of pink, parting just a bit the more she takes in your presence. she gives you a curious look, you can't help but avert your eyes and your gaze inevitably travels, trailing down her crop top, lingering on the tantalizing glimpse of abs peeking out–

“and you are?” she clears the air, looking you up and down with the same hint of interest.

clearing your throat, you respond, “oh, hi. i’m um, thomas’s girlfriend…” 

the word girlfriend rolls off your tongue weirdly in the presence of whoever she is. you’re indicating that you’re taken, taken by… thomas.

“ahhh,” she says so casually, it still makes your breath hitch right then and there, the tremble of her voice vibrating in the air and reaching your ears like a cold brush of wind. then she smirks, and your knees go weak. “you’re y/n? i didn’t know he managed to get with someone so–” she eyes you up and down, smiling wider now. “--striking.”

you don’t know what to say, don’t know how to react because jesus fucking christ the woman of the century has just complimented you. you’ve just met her and weirdly enough she has you like putty.

“momo?” you hear a deep voice shout from inside the house. 

the familiar face of your boyfriend appears seconds later, he smiles at you, pulling you in by the waist - you almost trip. and then he kisses you on the lips, deeply. the fact that the woman from before is witnessing this makes you cringe internally, so you pull away for a bit, stopping his advances with a hand on his chest.

“hey, babe, not um, now.” you whisper, earning a strange look.  

“oh, okay.” he says dissapointedly. you turn to the side, looking at the woman again. your boyfriend raises his brows in disinterest. “oh, her? she’s my stepsister.”

the stepsister (the prettiest woman you’ve laid eyes on) looks at you again. her eyes go from your eyes to your lips, down your body and back up to your eyes. her brows raise up in interest, amusement – something along the lines of that – before she introduces herself.

“momo.” it’s such a simple name, but it fits her image. you’d love to know this momo more. “it’s nice to meet you, y/n.”

“yeah, likewise.”

she smiles at you, almost like she knows she has you under a spell.

“thomas been treating you well?”

“oh, yeah.” you look over to your boyfriend, he’s rolling his eyes at momo. “he’s great.”

momo snickers, “uh huh, sure. i bet.”

“oh stop that.” thomas says, “you’re being annoying.” he puts his arm around your waist again before tilting his head to the side and winking at you. “let’s go to my room.” 

you nod and he leads you down up the stairs, still, you manage to catch another glimpse of momo before you head up. she looks at you with narrowed eyes, complimented by a grin that shows a bit of her teeth. 

your clench your jaw before redirecting your attention.

–

the fact that you’re thinking about your boyfriend's step sister more than him the whole time he’s entertaining you in his room is a little concerning.

even when he shows you his stupid trophies and pictures of his lacrosse team, you can’t shake momo off your mind.

momo, momo who’s probably the prettiest person you’ve seen. she looks nothing like thomas, clearly not because if you’re being honest, his visuals don’t have a chance against hers. it’s terrible though, you shouldn’t be thinking this, you can’t.

but even when your boyfriend is kissing you suddenly, sliding his hands up your torso and shifting his lips to your jaw, you still think of her. 

–

thomas sits you down at the dinner table, squeezing your hand as you situate yourselves.

thomas’s dad sits in front of him and his stepmom – you assume, she has similar features as momo – sits on the same end of the table. 

in front of you is momo, of course.

if you were to lift your head up, even shift your look up, you’d meet her features. 

as she sits at the dinner table, engrossed in her phone as she waits for the food to cool down. your boyfriend's parents initiate the conversation, delving into inquiries about your life, your background, your family, etc – basically throwing around questions you’d expected. they come across as warm and inviting, particularly momo's mom, whose voice is sweet and genuine – contrast to thomas's dad's straightforward and blunt tone.

“so, what are you majoring in?” momo’s mom asks.

“public health, i also used to minor in art… but it didn’t really fit.” you answer. 

she raises her brows, looking at momo now. “did you hear that honey? she used to do art. my daughter does something in that field, what was it?”

momo looks up and into your eyes, making you shrink in your seat.

“architecture and graphic design.” she says, tilting her head. “what classes did you take when you minored?”

“oh, um, intro to art history and the basics, you know… um…” you start to trail off, watching as the woman in front grins wider.

“that’s cool” she says simply. she thinks it’s cool, this is great.

thomas speaks up, chicken and rice still half eaten in his mouth, “yeah, art is cool but it’s not gonna get you paid.” his tone is judgemental, making you frown. “momo spends all her tuition on classes that teach you how to draw a stick figure on a laptop and make buildings with popsicle sticks.”

momo grimaces. “oh shut up, at least everyone that takes art isn’t an egotistical snob.” 

her mom butts in, “hey, let’s not fight at the dinner table in front of our guest.”

thomas puts his hands up in defense. “right, sorry for reminding you that i have a secure job and career coming my way. my bad little sis.” he grins, raising his brows. “y/n has a good path too, not as good as business, sorry babe, but still, good money – at least after you go to medical school or whatever.”

“hey, thomas…” you respond, voice small. he’s unbelievably obnoxious right now. “i think… art is cool momo.”

momo looks at you again after your words of reassurance, smiling. you could be delusional, maybe just a little, but you swear there’s a little flush on your cheeks. you might just be delusional, though.

as dinner progresses, you make a point to compliment thomas's dad on his delicious chicken recipe, eliciting a bright smile from him, probably the first of the evening. momo's mom shares more details about her, capturing your attention more than any information that’s dropped about thomas. you like how momo get’s a little more timid when anecdotes are dropped, you don’t pay attention to any shared of thomas other than the time he got hit by a seagull when he was four. that made you laugh, it made everyone laugh.

the night comes to an end with thomas’s arm around your shoulder, the feeling of it heavy and a little overwhelming, but he’s your boyfriend and you’re in front of his family out for display, so you decide to ignore the weird feeling in your heart – especially the discomfort when momo manages to meet the scene.

thomas is later sent to do the dishes, giving you more time to converse with his parents one on one. they seem to genuinely enjoy your company. his dad's smiles become more frequent, and his stepmom expresses her fondness for you, commenting on how cute and wonderful you are.

you spot momo in the corner of your eye wiping the table down, her tricep flexing when her arm moves forward, the small curve of her bicep prominent when she brings her arm back. you decide – after seeing this sight – that you want to talk to her, alone.

you walk towards her, standing just by the side of the table. feeling the new presence creep in, momo turns to her left, catching you in her vision.

the sight of you there, clad in a loose sweater and shorts, makes her smile a little.

“hi.” you greet, offering a small smile back.

“hey.”

“do you need help with that?” you ask her, “i feel bad just letting you two do the work.”

“i’m almost done.” momo shrugs, then begins to wipe again. “don’t worry about it, you’re our guest y/n.”

you frown slightly, feeling helpless as you stand there, watching momo wipe down the table silently.

“by the way,” she starts, making you perk your head up. “why do you like my brother? how did you two even meet?”

“oh,” you shrink when momo’s eyes meet yours. “my friend introduced me to him when we went out to eat. he made me laugh a lot and, i guess i thought he was cute–”

but wow, if i knew you were even cuter? i don’t know what i’d do.

“--and he’s funny. we went on a few dates later on and now, now i’m here.”

momo hums, looking at you with narrowed eyes now. “well, i’m glad he makes you happy. you guys are cute.”

you respond with a “thanks.” before momo turns to finish off the last side of the table, but before she can do that, you invade her personal space a little. she’s surprised when you’re leaning in, lips near her ear and muttering, “i’m sorry for how he acted earlier, i thought it was really rude, i’ll talk to him about that. i think architecture and graphic design are really cool, my friend chaeyoung is an art major actually.”

when you pull away, faces a hand width apart, the two of you find yourselves staring at each other for a bit. momo chuckles, her smile even wider now.

“wow, you’re really cute y/n. no wonder my brother pursued you.” her words ring in your ear as if you’d been thrown against some giant bell. you find yourself blushing and look away. momo begins again, “it’s fine though. he’s my brother, he’s always like that – it’s how siblings are.”

“right, sorry i just, i thought it was rude.” 

“he’s like that.” momo shrugs, “i guess he’s nicer to you than he is with me.”

“oh, maybe.”

she places her hand on your shoulder, her very nice-looking hand with nude colored polish and visible veins running on the top of it. you almost shudder, the contact makes you stiffen up a bit.

“don’t overthink it.” momo suggests, “he’s just a guy. he’s like that, don’t worry, seriously. i’m not going to cry myself to sleep because some 5’7 guy made fun of my major.” 

you giggle at her joke and find yourself being pulled into someone seconds later – to your dismay.

“alright, that’s enough of bothering my girlfriend.” he teases, kissing your forehead. “let me drive you home babe, that okay?”

“yeah of course, let me get my bag.” you kiss him on the cheek as well. 

momo begins to walk away from the scene and you feel a twinge of disappointment. you kind of hoped to have more conversation with her, but there’s always more opportunity considering the fact that you’ll probably be over more.

part of you has to remind yourself that the reason you’ll be over is to hangout with your boyfriend – not to learn more about momo.

–

you’ve lived alone for a few semesters, the first two being the year you shared a dorm with yeri. you were sent on a scholarship, almost a full ride, so your parents decided to be generous since you pretty much lived out their expectations.

having your own place also meant having a whole living place to do whatever you want. you had a single bedroom apartment to yourself, no bathroom to share, no roommate to bicker with over stupid little things like dishes. sure, it got pretty lonely without your best friend, but she visited often anyway. now that you have your own place, the world is basically your oyster. you missed yeri a good amount of the time – at least she didn’t have to have that fear of walking in on you and thomas getting a little… intimate. 

thomas hovers over you, his grunts muffled into your neck as he desperately thrusts into you. it’s not the worst feeling – his dick inside – but it’s definitely worse than the foreplay, which says a lot.

now that you and thomas have more time and space to get hot and heavy, he never takes it for granted, and you’re never against it, wanting your boyfriend to feel good.

and when he cums – not really minding that you didn’t do the same – he kisses you on the lips sloppily, muttering a few curses against your lips while you send your hands down his back, falsely scratching at the muscles he’s worked for as if you’d felt the same sensation as him.

(you like him a lot, really, enough to the point where you’ll fake pleasure.)

“fuck, baby,” he sighs as he flops down next to you, catching his breath. “that was so,” he kisses the corner of your lips, “amazing.”

maybe for you.

“mhm,” you hum, he smiles at you, and it’s kind of cute, so is the ruffled hair. thomas can be cute sometimes.

the sound of buzzing fills the now quiet room. thomas looks over to his left, reaching for his phone, then tenses his jaw a bit. you quirk a brow, turning over to place your arm over him and before you can even ask – he sits up.

“baby.” he turns, looking down at you with an apologetic expression. “i’m sorry, i have this thing to go to.”

“now?” you prop yourself up on one arm, your palm holding your cheek as you question, “what thing?”

“business, you know.” and you for one, do not know. what business does he have at three – almost four – in the afternoon? he runs a hand through his hair before kissing you on the forehead, whispering a, “i’m sorry, i’ll text you later, okay baby?”

“um, okay.” you mumble, looking at him confusedly as he finds his boxers, slipping them on before checking his phone again.

“seriously, i’ll text you.”

“okay thomas, have fun.”

you lie there, your eyes half-closed, listening to the rustling of fabric as he retrieves his jeans and t-shirt. just before he leaves, you hear him mumble a "love you," and then the door shuts, leaving you alone, naked in your own disheveled sheets.

turning over, just enough to let the afternoon light seep through the blinds and into your eyes, you pull the blanket up and over you, engulfing your whole body. 

your phone makes a loud ding from the bedside table, prompting you to open your eyes a little so you can check whatever the notification is. you lazily scoot your head over to peek at the screen, reading the words on the screen–

your eyes widen at the “cafe pop up at the park!!! spring flavors!!!” reminder, instantly giving you a burst of energy despite the activity from before.

then it hits you; you haven’t done shit today, nothing at all. waking up with thomas was one thing, but not enough(clearly), and then that movie you can’t even remember the plot of since thomas was too busy eyeing you, feeling you up, rubbing your thigh and fuck, you really wanted to finish that movie. some stupid rom-com that you were invested in, thomas seemed to be interested in something else.

you force yourself up and the blanket falls down to your stomach, your tits out on display now and you can see a faint hickey on the left side of your chest in the mirror across from you. you comb your fingers through your hair, fixing it up before heading to your bathroom.

this is better than being a bum for the rest of the day anyway.

–

the ten minute walk to the infamous park – adorned with beautiful cherry blossoms, blooming tulips, and public spaces to gather and catch up – makes you forget about everything that had happened before.

there are various friend groups around, each holding a cup of coffee with the words “kim’s kaffeine,” belonging to the new cafe that opened months ago, the same cafe hosting a little pop-up to promote their new blend.

once you reach the cafe, there’s already a line – maybe seven or eight people – unfortunately. 

still, you decide that it could be worst, considering it’s a pop up and at the newest cafe. recently you had seen a promotion video of the place on instagram, so it’s not surprising that there’d be a wait that would take more than ten minutes. 

after scrolling through texts in he groupchat with your friendgroup, looking at their various reels sent and stupid debates on where to hangout next; you look up and finally it’s your time to order. you were here for one thing, that popular latte they’ve been advertising and of course that’s what you had ordered. 

it takes about five minutes for the barista to finish up your drink, and when she’s done, she calls out your name with enthusiasm and smiles at you once you walk over, quickly rushing a “thank you!” before tending to the next order. 

you swirl the coffee around and take a sip, relishing the taste and considering coming over more often. usually you’d be underwhelmed by foods or drinks that had gained so much attention, but this particular beverage really met your standards. 

without thinking, you turn around swiftly and manage to run into a woman. you hear her gasp as soon as you two clash and feel the iced coffee from your drink seep into your clothing.

you look down to see a damp, rosy region on your t-shirt and a few drops on your white shoes.

“oh my god im so sorry–” her voice is laced with panic, and then she looks up, looking horrified when she processes just who she’s run into. “y/n?”

mouth agape and eyes widening, you pause in place as you stare at the woman: momo.

she’s an inch taller, eyes angled downwards in the slightest to meet yours apologetically. she reaches for the pocket inside her blazer, pulling out a napkin before handing it to you. 

“momo?” her name rolls off your tongue almost like a question, but also as if you were happy to see her despite the circumstances.

(you are, in fact, happy to see her despite your t-shirt being stained with half your cherry blossom latte.)

“y/n, sorry, i was rushing and i didn’t see you.” her voice is bashful, eyes tearing away from yours as she takes off her blazer, which reveals a black tank top underneath. she hands you the blazer, insisting, “here, take it – for the trouble of course. i’ll get you another drink.”

shaking your head and waving your hand at her, you flash a smile and quickly respond, “no, no it’s fine. it was an accident, no need to–”

“no, please, let me.” momo butts in, “i know the owners, i mean, i was the one who designed the posters and menu after all. i also know the barista really well, she’ll give them for free.”

you can’t really argue with her after that, so you reluctantly nod. “right, okay.”

she puts her hand on your shoulder, looking relieved. your eyes meet her hand, the hand on your shoulder. your shoulder. her hand. on you. 

“i’m sorry again, here–” momo puts the sleeves of the blazer on either shoulder before making a little knot, which covers the stain solidly. “this should do it.”

she grins at you, looking proud of her work (she’s done the bare minimum, but somehow cutely) and you can’t help but grin back after seeing her like that. the glasses she has on make her seem a little dorky, which is honestly adorable to you, making your smile grow even wider – a toothy one. 

warmth spreads across your cheeks, and you even feel your ears grow a little warm too. “thanks momo.”

-

momo was right; not only did you get your drink, but it got upgraded from a small to large, with an extra shot of espresso, and it was all free.

she interacted with the barista freely, joking around and even getting teased. the barista had sent you a cheeky look – one which you ignored – when she realized that momo was ordering for you as well. 

“one large iced cherry blossom latte! one hot, large mocha!” the barista had shouted soon after. once you and momo had received the drinks, the barista smiled at you widely, eyes moving back and forth between the two of you with a little smirk. “you two enjoy the rest of the evening.”

“thank’s dahyun, see you soon.”

“yeah yeah, thanks for leeching off my business.” the barista jokes, rolling her eyes at momo. “and have a good one, momo’s friend.” 

caught off guard, you laugh, “thank you, you too!” before momo reaches for your tricep and lures you away from cafe. you turn around to see the barista – dahyun you assume was her name – waving, adding a little wink to the mix.

you and momo find yourself walking over to a bench, and once you sit down she immediately apologizes.

“i’m so sorry again, i’m so dumb.” she pinches the bridge of her nose, shaking her head. “so sorry.”

“don’t say that, trust me it happens to a lot of people.” you assure, giving her a smile. you take a sip of your latte, smiling even wider as you sit next to her. “thank you for the drink – and the size upgrade. your friend is very sweet.”

“it’s no problem, i mean even if it weren’t for free i’d pay for it. you’re thomas’s girlfriend after all.” 

you turn away from her, snickering before you look down at the drink in your hand. “is that all you see me as?”

“what?”

“your brother’s girlfriend?”

“no, not at all.” momo pauses, turning to face you instead of the little boy playing with his dog across the park. “do you see me as just his sister?”

“not right now, no.”

“not now?”

your faces meet each other now after you turn, smug smirks that mirror each other. momo laughs and all you can do is laugh too.  

“i mean, last time i just saw you as thomas’s really pretty sister. now all i see is momo, the person who spilled coffee all over me.”

she pushes your shoulder playfully, rolling her eyes to hide how flustered she is after hearing you call her “really pretty.”

“oh stop that.” momo sighs, “i’m sorry, again.”

“apologize again and i’ll spill coffee on you.” you warn teasingly, making momo laugh again. 

silence falls over for a short moment as the two of you people-watch. momo sips on her mocha, and you catch her in your peripheral, waiting for her to continue the conversation or say something else.

she’s interesting, you note, with the way you’ve already warmed up to her. she’s a stark contrast from her brother; talking to her is definitely less stressful. you can speak your mind and joke freely. 

momo doesn’t look at you when she suddenly asks, “are you doing anything? or did you only drop by to get coffee and go back?”

“oh, no not at all. i’m pretty much free, thomas had something to do so…” you force a smile, pursing your lips together a bit. “why do you ask?”

“i came here to study for a project actually. do you want to accompany me?” 

you grin at her, crossing one leg over the other before you respond, “of course,” because what else do you have to do? and besides, momo’s company would be much better than walking around the park alone.

“great.” momo says, then stands, grabbing your wrist and urging you up with her.

–

–

she leads you down the park, a little deeper where there’s less families and more students trying to study in an area that’s full of sunlight.

the two of you walk beside each other and halfway through the walk momo pulls out a small notepad, then fishes for a pen in her bag. you observe carefully, watching her take notes of her surroundings and sketch small designs of what looks to be some type of public architecture. momo sits you two down by a concrete bench, right in front of a singled out tree that’s surrounded by grass and the wooden trail through the park.

her tongue sticks out as she sketches, then her glasses slip down her nose and you’re quick to push them back up with your finger. momo looks at you in surprise, a small blush painted on her cheeks as she mutters a small “thank you.”

momo’s really cute, which is a little conflicting for some reason. 

you’ve been silent most of the time, not really saying anything because momo hasn’t either, and because you’re too busy watching the way her expression’s change as she thinks to herself, finding the purse of her lips and those scrunched brows oddly alluring – and that smile of yours hard to fight back.

“what are you working on by the way?” you ask, which makes her perk her head up in surprise.

“oh, it’s for a project. we’re proposing architectural designs and ideas that might be considered – like, they might actually build it.” momo explains, then scoots over so that your shoulder is touching hers, showing you the notepad. there’s a sketch of the tree and around it are sketches that you can’t really make out. shecontinues, “surrounding it are little sitting areas, maybe to protect the tree and prevent it from deteriorating, i don’t know.” she puts the pen to her bottom lip, thinking to herself again. “there’s not a lot of seating in this particular area because they don’t want to get rid of the natural aspect, but that means it’s not as versatile because people don’t want to stay in a spot thats–”

momo looks up at you, second guessing herself. 

you look away from the notepad and back at her, tilting your head in confusion. “why’d you stop?”

“sorry i just– you know, i feel like im rambling.” momo chuckles awkwardly, looking down at her notepad once again. “it’s just something for my class–”

“no, i like it, keep talking.” cutting her off, you reach out for her hand to stop her from closing the notepad. “it’s interesting, and i like your rambling so…”

your hand is on her’s, spiking both your heartbeats. momo gulps lightly, giggling her nervousness off again.

“you’re so strange y/n.” momo teases, smiling down at the pen in her hand. “anyway,”

she continues on about her ideas for eco friendly study areas, small structures and designs that are fit for the elderly and others that are fit for the younger generation. she’s really lively about it too, using her hands ask she talks, her expressions growing more animated. 

you find yourself propped up on both hands while you sit, body leaned back as you listen and watch her with stars in your eyes.

“momo.”

she hums, looking up from her notepad. “yeah?”

“are you single?”

she freezes, her cheeks starting to flush as she looks away. she starts to laugh under her breath, shaking her head before responding, “what kind of question is that?”

“just curious.” you admit. “you’re pretty and youre passionate about this and it’s really adorable. i kinda just started thinking if you were single or not because if you are, that would be unbelievable.”

your compliments are like bullets, and you just keep shooting and shooting until her knees and body grow weak. momo doesn’t know how many more shots she can take.

“well, i guess you might not believe me then.” she mirrors the way you sit, then turns her head to face you. “i’m very much single.”

“you’re kidding.”

“no.” she looks away again. “you sound so patronizing right now.”

“hey , hey, i’m not making fun of you or anything – i just think it’s weird that no one has made a move.” you say, and momo looks at you in a way that asks for more. you sit up again, slouching a bit as you rest your elbow on your knee. “you and thomas are so different you know, but you both have one common trait from what i’ve observed so far: you both are oblivious.”

“what?”

you shrug, then state simply, “just an observation.” momo opens her mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. instead, she looks at you again, watching you smirk like you haven’t sent her brain into a swirl. “anyway, tell me more about your architecture stuff.” you tilt your head and laugh lightly. “i think your ramble is much more interesting than anything business related i’ve heard from thomas.”

“business majors…”

“business men.” you correct.

both of you laugh harmoniously, playfully shoving each other in the process and it seriously feels just right.

-

after getting her number, you discover that she even rambles through text. she shares her thoughts and feelings in a stream of consciousness that makes you laugh. her messages are filled with blurbs about things that have made her happy or pissed her off, the level of openness and expressiveness contrasts sharply with thomas. 

her candid messages and pictures, plus the willingness to share her emotions freely make you realize how much you appreciate that quality. you can't help but wish that thomas were a little more like her, it’d make him just as cute. 

a few days later, while you’re with thomas, momo gets the courage to ask you out to the park again, sending a little text that reads “coffee? won’t spill it on you this time…” and you can’t help but smile at your screen. 

thomas notices the change in expression, raising a brow in suspicion.

“and who’s got my girlfriend smiling at her phone like that?”

you shake your head and grin to yourself. “your sister, actually.”

“momo?”

“yeah, she’s nice.” 

he looks at you from the bed, watching you sit back in the office chair in your room as you reply to the text. your fingers tap against the screen, and your smile grows wider with each second. he can’t help but notice the way your eyes light up, the joy on your face undeniable as you exchange messages. his brows crease as he sits up, looking at you like you owe him an explanation.

you look back at him with a confused stare. “something wrong?”

“when did you hang out with her?” 

“oh,” your face lights up again. “i went to the park after you left for your business thing, and then she bumped into me and spilled coffee all over my shirt.” your tone reflects the scene like it’s some sort of thrilling story, even though it isn’t – at least to thomas. to you, it was a memory you had thought about a little too much. “it was really funny, she’s adorable, your sister is, haha. anyway– she got me some coffee and we just strolled around and hey, architecture is really interesting! i don’t know why you bashed her that one time at dinner.”

thomas lays back down, rolling his eyes and picks his phone back up again. you tilt your head as he responds, “she’s a loser, you know.” the features on his face contort into something not so short of resentment.

“you’re just saying that because she’s your sister.”

he sends you a weird look, nearing a glare, then adds, “not just that.”

you can’t help but giggle at him, finding the chance to poke at him and tease him. your hand meets your opened mouth as you gasp dramatically. 

“you’re jealous.”

“what? no.”

“oh you’re so jealous– that’s adorable!”

thomas loosens up as you laugh at him, immediately making your way over to the bed and pinching his cheek as he pretends to be annoyed by it. you kiss his knuckles, your lips soft on his rough skin before placing his hand on your cheek. 

“your sister won’t take me away from you, and besides, this is a good thing! i’m getting along with family.”

he sighs before bringing his arms out and pulling you closer. “yeah, whatever.”

placing your head on his chest, you let him gently rake his hand in your hair, waiting for him to fall asleep.

the signature snoring – loud and honestly, quite bothersome – fills the room, prompting you to fish for your phone blindly. it’s on the table, still there as you left it, meaning momo had been on read. the thought of her being left with the text “read” at the bottom of her own message makes you pout, so you end up with an apology, a response, and a stupid emoji in order to make up for it.

on the other end of the line, momo watches her phone light up, redirecting her attention from the book in her lap.

the contact reads “y/n,” and the mere sight makes momo smile. she picks up the phone, nearly on the edge of her bedside table, and reads your little text. a small chuckle leaves her lips as she fixes the glasses to sit on the bridge of her nose, the frames just barely reflecting your text:

[11:30pm]

y/n: 

sorry for the late response :( 

your brother is jealous that you’re using my time for him

kidding lol

anyway, coffee sounds great, i look forward to that.

tomorrow in the afternoon? let’s get lunch while we’re at it

sleep tight, momo

😛

momo grins, immediately typing up a response.

[11:33pm]

momo: 

let’s meet at kim’s and find our way out from there

i’ll see you there, 3pm sharp

you sleep well, y/n

your eyes had been closed, kind of, just not enough for you to not notice the light from your phone after momo sends her message. you’re quick to grab your phone, your tired features unlocking it and displaying her text in the small default font of your phone. you grin again, placing the phone back on the bedside. 

the thought of a little “date,” with momo doesn’t sound too bad, it urges you to fall asleep faster. little do you know, your limbs start to loosen up and your body slowly strays away from thomas’s, turning ever so slightly to the point where it faces the ceiling. 

–

sitting down at a small two seat table in front of the cafe, the sun shines down on you in fragments. the sky is adorned with clouds, they’re scattered all over, but not to the point where you might wonder whether you’ll need an umbrella or not.

it’s not even three yet, but still, you worry.

you worry a little more than you should. worry that momo may not show up, won’t give you that smile that shows her teeth, her eyes won’t slim as she does so – and who knows, you worry that it might even rain despite the forecast assuring semi-clouded skies, a faint breeze, and warm, wonderful weather.

without thinking, you fidget with your fingers before fixing the collar of your t-shirt for absolutely no reason.

“y/n! hey!” a voice calls out, heard from your left and just the sound of momo’s voice reaching your ears makes your turn in her direction.

you’re greeted by a smile as she walks over, and then brown eyes drill into you through black frames and it brings a little warmth to your cheeks. you figure it might be the warm weather, the sun shining – but momo seems to radiate much more than what had been forecasted.

“momo, hey.”

she’s wearing a gray tank top that showcases a small display of her tummy – you note that, making sure to revisit the landmark once you get the chance since it’s oddly enticing – and a light flannel over it. hair flows down to her shoulders, she scratches the dip of her collarbone and it moves a strand. for a moment, you wonder what it’d be like to be the one moving her hair out of the way, how soft the skin of hers feels like if you were to just graze your fingers across.

“hi y/n.” she fixes her bangs. “did you order anything yet? you better not have, you know my perks.”

“relax, relax.” you start to stand, chuckling. “i wouldn’t do that to you.”

“that’s what i thought.”

she tilts her head and signals for you to follow her to the line. thankfully, it’s not busy, lending the chance for you two to be those people who stand and observe the menu carefully with expressions that make you both look more considerate about your choices than you really are.

(at the end of these few seconds, you’ll both be ordering something you’ve already had, nothing out of your comfort zones.)

her barista friend isn’t working that day, but momo manages to playfully banter and immediately, the barista present laughs along with her, waving her hand and you hear a faint sentence that guarantees free drinks.

this time you order a small, iced caramel latte, while momo orders an iced white mocha instead. 

momo waits with you, standing a little close. you watch the barista intently, zoning out a bit as she steams milk and swirls the metal jug around. the woman next to you finds herself staring at you while you’re distracted, eyes tracing you, cherishing the moment to just look at you.

“i like your face.”

you’re quick to snap your head in her direction, immediately responding with an unbelievably flustered sounding “what?”

momo freezes, waving her hands in the air and trying to fight back the flames of embarrassment that threaten to have her cheeks burning. “no! no, no. that came out wrong, sorry, thinking out loud. i just– you have pretty features and… yeah. god that sounded so weird, don’t take it the wrong way.”

“i won’t, i won’t.” you chuckle, raising a brow mischievously which causes momo to gulp. “but i will be using this against you. it would be funny if both siblings were in love with me, wouldn’t it? his pretty sister drooling because of me, how adorable.”

momo rolls her eyes, shoving you with her own shoulder playfully. “oh shut up. i’m not in love with you.”

“right~ it’s okay momo,” placing a hand over your heart, then the other on her shoulder before you lower your voice and push your bottom lip out teasingly. “don’t fight it, stare at me all day if you’d like, gorgeous.”

“gosh, you’re a handful.” momo groans. “i don’t know how my brohter handles you.”

“he–” you cut yourself off, recollecting every moment shared with thomas. 

you struggle to remember when you’ve flirted so… easily. really, you aren’t much of a flirt, but with momo in front of you, looking so good, it’s just relaxing and easy to talk to her; your stupid remarks flow out of your mouth without thinking, but none of what you say isn’t true. and then you start to wonder whether this is morally wrong, flirting with your boyfriend’s stepsister, but really, it’s playful—even if you can’t help but be a little attracted to her. 

honestly, you don’t know how thomas handles you either because you’ve never been this teasing, never been so relentless and filled with stupid remarks. the worst you’ve done is tease him for being jealous and maybe call him hot once or twice. 

– manages.” you continue, looking away from her. “um, enough about him. let’s… let’s get lunch? i would kill for some cold noodles.”

momo sips on her drink, then chuckles. “whatever you want.”

and then you two end up having more than lunch together, finding yourselves in momo’s car while she drives both of you downtown. the two of you explore shops because hell, why not. everything you do with her that afternoon – and into the evening – is spontaneous. 

the minutes pass, and with each store you visit, you find yourself a little closer to momo. your shoulders brush, and your hands accidentally graze each other's skin with every few steps. every touch is like ice water trickling down your back, sending shivers. you start to step in a way that makes your knuckles brush against hers more frequently. there's a pang in your heart, and the thought of maybe linking pinkies, arms, or really anything—anything physical with momo—crosses your mind. the proximity feels electric, and the idea of a small, intentional touch becomes increasingly enticing.

momo is dragged by the wrist into some sunglasses store, following you in while giggles escape from you.

a variety of sunglasses are given to her so she can try them on for you, and each time you look at her with admiration, some sort of pink dusting your cheeks, momo can’t help but laugh and smile like a little kid.

there’s this wall, a wall of tension that’s thinner than thread and both of you are waiting for it to break down – momo’s the one to obliterate it.

she grabs a pair of sunglasses with square-ish frames and tinted, green lenses. you’re standing in the mirror, fixing some strands of hair that fall loose when you feel someone creep up behind you.

momo’s hands reach over your shoulders and one side of her face peeks out from behind you in the mirror. she places the sunglasses she’s brought on your face, fixing how it sits on your nose bridge before placing her hands on your shoulder. momo’s head is still close – even closer when she uses her right hand to tilt your head to the left, facing her completely.

her features become more apparent: the subtle curve shaping her nose, big brown eyes focused on you like a camera about to capture a moment, smooth cheeks, and parted lips revealing her oddly perfect teeth. her rosy lips hold you captive until she gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. your eyes shoot back up into hers—those honey-like eyes that leave you speechless and rooted to the spot. 

“these suit you well.” momo says softly. you wonder if your heart is beating louder than her voice.

you’re still stuck in place, faces four or five inches apart when you struggle to mutter out, “oh, thanks.” 

momo smirks like she knows what she’s done to you, moving away and taking her hand off your shoulder, to your dismay.

"you should buy them. here, hold on." she presses the edge of her palm against your face, lifting the sunglasses to hold your hair in place. the rush of heat in your cheeks intensifies, and just when you think you couldn’t feel more flustered, she gently pulls out a few strands of hair to frame your face better. “there we go, the green compliments your eyes.”

it feels like you’ve been punched in the stomach.

momo pulls away, smiling at you. all you can do is gulp.

“maybe i will.”

her eyes scan you up and down before momo fixes her flannel, then she leaves you in front of the mirror as if she hasn’t just rocked your world.

–

after your first (intentional) hangout with momo, the words “coffee?” and “are you free?” are a common text between the two of you.

from short coffee runs to various cafes after classes to walking in the park at night on a weekend, the two of you become attached quickly. 

eating with momo is your favorite thing to do, probably, and it’s really not the food that you like; the way momo stuffs down food like it’s going to grow legs and leave her only adds to your interest in her.

the thing is, momo listens. she’s aware and attentive, and as much as you don’t want to admit it, she’s not a man-baby like thomas. spending more time with her makes you smile, makes your cheeks burn, makes you feel heard and seen. you start to point out thomas’s flaws everytime you’re alone with him the more you spend time with his sister, and it throws you in for a loop.

hanging out with momo is different than hanging out with anyone, really. you’ve noticed that even when she rambles, she’s attentive to you and your reactions, always waiting for a response and reading your features with every word uttered. 

even worse, or maybe definitely  better; the mention of momo is becoming more frequent whenever you’re with your other friends. they’ve started to notice just how special she is to you. they see the way your smile and laugh come more easily when she’s around, and especially how a natural blush appears on your cheeks whenever her name comes up.

being around momo is wonderful, amazing really – like a fresh breeze that picks you up as if you were a feather.

it’s great, perfect – right until the revelation hits, the one that picks you up and throws you to the ground like some wwe wrestler. 

it can’t be, this can’t be.

you’re at thomas’s house, not with him though, instead you’re with momo.

your visits at your boyfriends house become more frequent; you’d spend three or four hours on a free day there and at least an hour would be with momo. sometimes you’d spend all those hours with her.

she sits next to you on the couch in the living room on her phone as you scroll through movies to watch. 

here’s another thing you like about momo; she’s the type of person who’ll actually watch a movie, and even better, she’s into the same media you’re into. it’s a completely new experience. she’s someone who cares.

she even puts down her phone when you start the movie, even if it’s one she’s watched before. tonight you’re watching lost in translation for the first time, momo tells you that it’s good. you trust her judgement.

with each minute that passes, the urge to scoot closer grows heavier. from your peripheral, momo doesn’t budge. she’s lounged lazily against hte couch, that impeccable profile of the side of her face trying to steal your attention away from the tv in front of you. her hand rests tantalizingly on her thigh, so close yet so far from simply making contact with you. 

and you figure you might go crazy from just sitting there and watching the movie, oddly enough, right until she turns to you, noticing how stiff you are.

“hey, you wanna sit closer?” she asks, you nod like an idiot. 

scooting over, your arms press together. she looks at you, scanning your features and you scan right back, eyes stalling at her lips – plump and soft up close – before she turns back to watch that stupid movie. 

you wonder to yourself, the ache in your heart is like a slap to the face, is this how thomas feels? is that why he’s so eager to be so touchy with you? because everything he does to you, you want to do it too, oddly enough; you really want your hands on her, to be close in any way possible, and honestly she looks really good. good isn’t even enough to describe what you see right now – what movie were you even watching before?

“something on your mind?” she’s looking at you again now, head tilted down as she looks at you through her lashes and you feel yourself shift your hips involuntarily.

“oh, just zoned out.” you assure, pursing your lips together into a forced smile.

she tilts her head and smirks so that her teeth show, earning a quick breath from your lips.

“is the movie getting boring for you? i really liked it to be honest.” 

you shake your head. “no, no, i just– um, my legs–” your legs are tapping up and down against the carpet under your feet. “does the couch have a leg rest? um, there’s just, yeah i just need–”

“it’s broken right now.” momo says, frowning. “i have an idea though.”

“and what is that?”

her grin widens, more teeth showing and you feel that rush of heat in your cheeks again – nothing foreign when near momo. 

she abruptly grabs just below your thigh right under where your knee bends, moving your leg up and over to rest on her lap. she taps your other leg – right on your thigh and you swear there’s a small noise that gets stuck in your throat – which prompts you to rest it on her lap as well. 

“sit back and relax, i can be innovative.” she jokes.

“whatever miss architect,” you laugh, shaking your head. “you gonna make a leg rest out of your lap for your next assignment?”

“oh, no. this one’s exclusive only to you, lucky girl.” she smirks at you knowingly, then rests her hand on your thigh. turning back to the tv, you’re left speechless, gulping, and tense in your spot. 

your teeth trap your bottom lip; you’re head over heels for her, it strikes you like a blow to the stomach.

the flutter in your abdomen, the burn of your cheeks, and all your admiration – it all makes sense now, it’s clear as day the more flustered you get from momo rubbing circles into your skin.

as you two continue to watch the movie, you try not to shift too much in your seat from the weird, hot sensation you feel in the moment. it’s difficult, all too difficult to ignore the concerning rate of your heartbeat or the little pulse in between your legs when momo sinks her hand higher, her skin smooth against your own as she moves it mindlessly, tantalizingly. 

you’ve found your answer, the answer as to why thomas doesn’t arouse you or leave you breathless like this. you’re not sure whether it’s a good thing or not.

your mind runs in circles, you feel your head spin, and it stops whirling once it reaches the idea of momo kissing you, hands falling to your skin and leaving you breathless. she’s still in front of you when you daydream of this, and you realize once she looks you dead in the eye, raising her brows.

–

fucked, that’s what you are. 

getting fucked? yeah, about to as well, probably.

thomas has his hands around your waist, messily fumbling with the edge of his shirt as he roughly slides his tongue into your mouth.

he’s not a good kisser, not really. his short, sweet ones are nice, the small, rare pecks to your lips are not bad. honestly, you like the quicker ones the most. but right now you can’t really breathe, he’s practically devouring your mouth, not in a good way. you can’t reciprocate the kiss with how bombarded your tongue is, the texture of it all throwing you off so much that you have to place a hand on his chest and push him away for a bit.

he raises a brow, “what?” sounding almost offended, a little annoyed too.

“just,” a sharp breathe leaves your lips, “needed to catch my breath. actually– i just, i don’t know if i can do this right now.”

thomas just stares at you for a moment, then scoffs. you watch him tense his jaw, turning away from you and disappointingly and muttering a small “okay.”

“babe, i’m sorry.”

“it’s fine.” he lies, you can hear the irritation in his voice. 

for some reason, you can’t help but feel off when he touches you or shows affection, anything intimate. you can hold his hand and throw on a smile, kiss him quickly on the cheek or anywhere else – only if it’s brief and swift – and go out with him. the thing is, he doesn’t care for that these days and it’s getting more blatant with each passing day. the only time he seems interesting and pays the slightest bit of attention is when it’s heated.

you haven’t felt anywhere near horny for at least a month with him – it’s been dying down since that first encounter with momo.

–

thomas noticed the change in your relationship with his step-sister, finding it off, but not really paying attention to the detail of it until recently. he noticed that the time you’d usually spend with him would be shared with his step-sister – and your lowered (almost nonexistent) libido was the biggest deal for him.

he finds himself pissed, confused, and sexually frustrated. not the best state for a man, not at all. of course, he doesn’t draw it down to square one – him – and instead tries to find reasons for why you’re being so difficult. everything leads to momo, it’s all started since then – everything. 

a few days later, he sits beside you on his couch in the basement. his arm is around your shoulder as you two watch the movie – a crime show he likes.

his fingers graze your shoulder, revealed by the tank top you wear. 

“baby,” 

your turn your head to answer, “hm?”

“you and momo been getting close, huh?”

giggling softly at the mere mention of your name, you nod. “yeah, she’s lovely.”

“sure.”

you punch him playfully on the chest, earning the tilt of his head. he almost looks offended.

“she is! don’t be so mean to your sister.” you emphasize their relation, because siblings are supposed to be relatively nice to one another (is what you assume, because you have none yourself). “she’s so sweet and funny.”

“she’s a leech, you know. not good to hangout with people like that.”

your body faces him more after the comment, you frown. “what?”

thomas looks back at the screen, watching the detective in the show connect different points from the cases he’s been going through. “a leech. her mom married my dad because he’s rich, and now she gets to live comfortably with that stupid, childish career plan of hers. all she does is take.”

“thomas, what the fuck?”

he rolls his eyes and looks at you again, raising his brows and shoving his face closer to you. “l-e-e-c-h. leech. just wanted you to know who you’ve been spending your time with because ever since you’ve met her you’ve been getting so distant and shit. she’s really stubborn you know, and really, i’m trying to protect you babe. not a good influence.”

scoffing, you remove his arm from your shoulder, scooting away from him and looking at the smug smirk on his face in disbelief. 

sure, you didn’t know the full details of how they became siblings, but still, that’s fucked to say about someone who’s been so sweet to you. 

“what the fuck is wrong with you.”

“it’s the truth.”

“you’re fucked thomas, you are fucked.” you reprimand, “why would you say that?”

“oh sorry, my bad!” he says sarcastically, raising his hands up in the air. “i’m sorry she’s been taking all the fucking time away from you, that bitch.”

you push yourself away from him, standing up. your expression shifts to one of frustration, brows crunched with a trembling bottom lip. he looks at you, raised brows and a shit-eating look that you want to slap off.

“okay, if you’re jealous, i understand that, really. but calling her a bitch? a leech? what the fuck is wrong with you? i know you’re siblings but that’s far.” 

he scoffs, then chuckles unbelievably. “what, you defending the person who’s stopping you from fucking me?”

you want to puke. struggling to contain yourself, your hands shake as they ball into fists, and tears prickle in your eyes.

“fuck you, thomas. fuck you,” is all you can say. he's unbelievable, absolutely terrible and it’s clear as day now, if comparing him to momo didn’t make it apparent already. he's so fixated on this one thing, his lust-driven desires – not even bothering to deny how fucked up and in the wrong he is. 

“it’s true.”

“you know what’s true?” a tear rolls down your cheek before you poke the inside of your mouth with your tongue angrily. “now that i think about it, maybe i spent so much time with momo because she liked being around me, actually took interest into my wants and needs and interests unlike you. you’re really this mad? because i don’t want to makeout with you every two seconds? because i’m – if not before – repulsed by your dick inside of me? for fucks sake thomas, you’ve made me cum like three times total. fuck you.”

he stands up, oh now he’s offended, all from the mere mention of anything sex-related. he walks up to you, looking down at you with a disgusted, angry look.

“you’re so lucky y/n. you know there’s a line of girls waiting for me and it’s a fucking privilege to be with me like this. i’ve been so goddamn patient with you and your fucking priorities. you want to insult me because you don’t feel good? yeah, sounds familiar don’t you think? so all that shit coming out from your mouth–”

your hand comes into contact with his cheek, making a loud clap in the process. 

thomas’s eyes widen, his face turned and angled at the ground. 

his cheek burns, and he presses his hand to his skin. he looks at you in disbelief, watching tears fall and fall until your staring at him with trembling features and visible regret – not from slapping him, but for putting up with him.

“we’re fucking done, fuck you thomas, fuck you.”

“you bitch –”

you scoff, turning around and running up the stairs. 

the bag you had brought is still in the living room, but the last place you want to be is in the same house as thomas – his house – so you’re rushing towards the door, opening it and slamming it close once you’re out.

tears continue to fall, you wipe away at them desperately and sniffle a bit. you can’t be crying over someone like him, you can’t. 

momo pulls up to the house in her car, only to spot you storming out with a disappointedg, bothered expression.

she stops just in front of the driveway, you spot her too. your nerves seem to settle, and surprisingly; you’re relieved just to see her from the window rolling down. immediately, your tears stop flowing down your face, your nose is less runny, and you quickly compose yourself.

“y/n?” 

“can i get in?” you stop her before she can really question you, ask why your nose is pink, why your eyes are a little red and watery, or really the evidence of a post-crying y/n. “can we just–” you speed over to her car. “get out of here.”

momo shifts the car to park immediately. “yeah, of course, where to–”

“just drive.” you say, opening the door and settling in the passengers seat. “please.”

“okay.”

momo does what you’ve practically ordered her to because one: you’re a mess. and two: she would do a lot of things for you. as soon as you’re situated in the car with your seatbelt buckled, momo shifts the stick to “drive” and presses down on the gas. 

she turns over to you swiftly, only to see you looking forward with a dazed expression. 

momo drives, well, somewhere. she takes the bigger road and finds herself turning into random neighborhoods, glancing over when she hits stop signs to see you looking out the car window. when she’s had enough, the red light at the busy intersection giving her a little time to pry, she places her hand on yours. 

your head shoots in her direction, your eyes locking onto hers. she takes in your post-crying face, noting the remnants of tears but also the effort you made to appear relatively normal again. it's a stark contrast to the vulnerable state she found you in outside her house.

before momo can ask you anything – you beat her to the punch.

“we broke up.” 

momo lets out a breath. “oh gosh, y/n, i’m so sorry–”

“don’t be, your brother is a terrible person. i’m just, sorry for myself. i can’t believe i put up with him.” the light turns green, momo steps on the gas again. “can you take me home?”

“yeah, yes. of course y/n.” she looks at you again, giving you a comforting smile. you manage to smile back. 

she shuffles her hand so that your fingers intertwine, squeezing subtly to offer comfort. she drives one-handed for the rest of the way to your apartment, her thumb rubbing against your skin absentmindedly, providing a soothing, repetitive motion that grounds you both in the moment and really, you feel much better already.

she reaches your complex, then parks in the designated lot. you lead her over to the elevator, then to your place. you left your bag at thomas’s house, but luckily, your keys were still on you.

you two are inside in no time and momo simply watches you flop onto your couch, leaning your head back into the cushions defeatedly. 

she sits down next to you without asking, and without any warning, you place your legs on her lap like you’ve done before. momo watches as you close your eyes, relaxing into the material beneath you. she gently rubs her thumbs along your thigh, comforting you with the small, soothing motion.

“he got mad at me because i didn’t want to fuck him anymore.” you speak up, opening your eyes and watching momo nod. “he’s an asshole.”

“i know.” momo agrees, “he’s terrible.”

“why didn’t you warn me?”

“y/n,” she begins, then sighs. “i’m not a homewrecker. plus, he’d whine to his dad like a man-baby.”

“fuck him.” you groan. “i can’t believe i fucked him. he’s pathetic.”

the tone of your voice slowly simmers down to something more casual, shifting from the brink of tears to general insults. momo continues to soothe you with her touch, her thumbs still rubbing gentle circles on your thigh, providing a steady source of comfort.

“do you feel better?” she asks you again.

looking at her, you’ve honestly just pushed aside the events from before. she’s here with you and that’s all that matters.

“yeah, thank you. you’re so sweet to me.”

she chuckles softly, then her expression shifts to a pout as her phone buzzes. glancing at the screen, she bites her lip nervously. curious, you scoot closer and catch a glimpse of the notifications: one from "mom" and another from "thomas."

“they’re going to be on my ass, especially my brother.” momo frowns. “i should go before thomas bothers you more, i’ll try to diffuse the flame.”

her hands leave your thigh, and disappointment washes over you, making you pout as well. she gently moves your legs off her lap and stands up, her eyes scanning the texts with a stressed look on her face.

she makes her way over to your door, it renders your heart weak. the one person you need with you is momo, especially now, you need her.

“momo, stop, wait.”

you pause her, and she turns around, her eyes meeting yours. for a moment, you both just stare at each other, eyes locked in an unspoken exchange.

she’s a step away from you, you can tell she doesn’t want to leave you alone here. she grips the phone in her hand tightly.

your eyes steal a glance at her lips before your own our on hers. 

she reciprocates immediately, her hand finding the base of your neck as you two exchange a kiss. when you pull away, she looks at you like you're insane—right before pulling you back in by the waist and closing the distance again.

the timing is awful, but so right at the same time. 

her lips are just as soft as they look, just as you had imagined. she brings her hand to your cheek as you desperately grip onto whatever she's wearing. she smells like peaches, and her lips taste like them too. you kiss her again and again, pushing her against the door. then, with a sudden move, she grabs you by the waist, turning you both around and pinning you against the door instead.

you can’t help but groan, feeling your breaths grow heavier as soon as she swipes against your bottom lip, curving her fingers to tilt your jaw up. you two exchange saliva for a minute, tongues against each other, exploring and savoring each other before momo pulls away, halting everything.

“y/n, wait.” she says breathlessly, “i– i have to, you know, go.”

“i need you here with me momo. i need you.” you move over to peck her again, holding the base of her neck.

to fight the urge to go on, she looks away from you. “you’ve just broken up with thomas, i– i can’t. and i have to resolve things, i’m sorry.”

“momo, are you serious?”

you want to cry. she can’t leave you, she’s the only thing you need right now, the one person who can ground you after everything that’s been going out. she’s the reason you went out more, started exploring new places and everything about her screams that she’s the one you should’ve been kissing and loving this whole time.

“i wish i weren’t.” she looks into your eyes. “i’m so sorry.”

–

momo doesn’t text you the rest of the night and you have no clue what to do with yourself.

you lay on the couch, unable to pick yourself up and go to your room. the ceiling is the only thing you can see and momo’s the only one on your mind. you lift up your hand for the first time in a while, bringing two fingers to gently settle on your lips, lips that momo kissed. 

god, everything about the kiss was fulfilling, it was perfect. 

the thought of staying in your apartment alone all night kills you, especially with so much pent up inside of you. you reach out for your phone, unlking it and scrolling through your contacts to find someone who can listen: yeri.

–

momo grits her teeth as soon as she steps into the house. 

her mom watches her angrily storm through the hall. “thomas is in his room.”

she rushes up the stairs, practically knocking the door open with how aggressive and angry she is in the moment. she watches thomas lay there, on his phone like nothing had happened. 

he spots momo and looks up like he’s just been pestered. “yes?”

“what the fuck happened between you and y/n?”

he yawns, then puts his phone down. 

momo bites down on her teeth, clenching her jaw. just the sight of him there makes her thoughts scream at her to punch him in the face, but momo doesn’t, because that’s something an immature, impatient man-baby would do; that’s what thomas would do.

“she dumped me because i insulted you, guess she can’t handle truth.” he laughs like it’s a joke. “fucking bitch slapped my–”

“don’t call her a bitch.”

“oh? what’s this? defending the bitch now?”

momo moves her lower jaw in an attempt to suppress her anger. “fuck you, seriously. you’re an ass you know?”

“you’re an even bigger one for being the reason y/n wouldn’t fuck.”

she can’t believe what she’s hearing. you were right, you were so right. all he is is a lust-driven prick who’s the reason some of your hangouts with her have been you complaining about him. he’s never really loved you, not at all. 

momo wonders how someone who’s dad had been able to treat her mother right, could love her wonderfully and provide so well, could have a son like this. the sight of thomas after hearing what he’s said – especially about you, calling you a bitch and all – makes her sick to the stomach. it’s difficult to hold back from punching him in the face and kicking him where he’d suffer the most.

he perks his head up. “oh, forgot to mention: picking up your brothers ex-girlfriend after they’ve broken up isn’t the best look.”

“i don’t care what you tell your fucking dad, he actually has morals and a heart. you’re a snob.”

“you’re a desperate little bitch, i knew something was going on between you as soon as she had hung out with you the first time. y/n is a fucking homosexual because of you.”

“or maybe it’s because your tiny ass dick can’t satisfy her, or the fact that you’ve never treated her well, you selfish fucking– ugh.” momo stops right there because it’s no use wasting all her anger on thomas, he’s just a guy after all.

“well, you’re a fucking whore. if anything happens with you two after, i wouldn’t be surprised. all you are is desperate and jealous, getting with her would prove that.”

she watches him poke his tongue at his cheek, then leaves the room, annoyed and frustrated.

momo considers texting or leaving a call, but decides to drop it, afraid of saying something she shouldn’t say or making things worse due to her emotional state. 

–

the two of you see each other two days later because momo’s conflicted, wanting you to take time for yourself, and you are simply someone who’s longing for a person you’ve recently realized you’re in love with.

the whole time away from her is grueling even though she had texted you.

when both of you meet for lunch you fight the urge to hug and kiss her. 

she looks wonderful walking into the small sit-down restaurant, a tank top – your weakness when it’s on momo – and sweats on. she’s stunning, especially those lips of hers that you can’t stop staring at because you’ve had the privilege and lucky chance to kiss them.

momo on the other hand fights back the urge to kiss you too, because after her anger had fizzled out, that had been the only thing on her mind prior to seeing you at the table for two.

“hi.” momo greets.

you force a smile. “hey.”

she sits down in front of you, then looks at the menu in front of her. “is everything okay?”

“it’s alright.” you say, only alright because one: your ex boyfriend is a fucking bitch and two: momo hasn’t been there when you needed

sure, it was relatively very strange to move on so quickly from your whole thomas situation, but it’s justified because hell, you’ve basically been dating momo simultaneously without realizing you had been in love. 

and now that you’re aware, so aware that it keeps you up at night, you’re hoping for something to happen.

“have you talked to thomas?”

“i’d rather not. he’s not worth my time.”

she looks up at you again through her eyelashes. “you’re right.”

“momo,” she flips through the menu and you focus on each movement. “i really want to kiss you again.”

“y/n, you just broke up with your boyfriend.”

“if this is because of me dumping thomas then throw it out the window.” you respond sternly, almost mad and it catches momo off guard. she looks at you with surprise, stopping her little act of trying to act uninterested. 

she can’t give in; it would only prove thomas right. yet, what you feel is genuine, and what momo feels isn’t born of desperation. the time she’s spent with you has nurtured her admiration and her growing affection for you. momo cares deeply about you, and her feelings are sincere, not driven by a sense of urgency or lust like your ex-boyfriend. she can’t recall the last time she enjoyed someone’s company so much or wanted to be with them constantly. from the start, she sensed something different about you—how you made her ponder at night, made her blush, made her fall head over heels for you.

you continue, “because kissing you was the best thing to happen to be, even after everything that happened – and that says a lot. momo, i’ve liked you for probably so long and i’m a dumbass for realizing it just now, so please, please just consider it.”

“y/n, i’ve thought about it ever since.” her response earns the raise of your brows. “i’ve dreamed about doing that since our first encounter, and i wish it were in a better situation, so let’s just… take it slow from here.”

taking it slow is a much better option than anything that involves cutting her off, so you smile and nod.

–

the rest of the day is spent with her, both your uncovered feelings allowing you to fully bask in each others presence without anymore concealing. it feels right, talking to momo about everything you’ve felt recently and simply being around her.

and then you both find yourselves glancing too long at each others lips but not commenting on it, despite the easy going time spent together, there’s a thick tension hanging in the air.

the tension is even worse when momo drives you back to your apartment complex, and even heavier when you two step into the elevator.

momo is not a woman of her word. she wanted to be the bigger person by “taking things slow,” but she can’t fight back the urge when you’re alone together, your features drawing her in.

“oh fuck this,” momo groans, pulling you by the wrist and turning you to face her. you look more beautiful than anyone she’s ever seen, your lips are calling her name.

before you know it, momo’s planting her lips on yours and you melt right into it.

“what–” you gasp when you pull away, “happened to taking it slow.”

“fuck that, i can’t if it’s you.”

that’s how you find yourselves stumbling out of the elevator into the empty halls, eager to savor each other’s presence after the arduous forty-eight hours apart. you manage to make your way to your apartment door, fumbling with the key as momo kisses the edge of your jaw, both of you entering messily, unable to keep your hands off each other like horny teenagers in the janitor's closet in highschool.

every kiss that followed felt like cool raindrops during the burning summer day. it’s electrifying, all of it, really.

you’ve never felt this satisfied. nothing really processes other than the pounding pulse from in between your legs, and momo’s lips bruising your own as she pins you against the door after it’s closed. crazy with want, you let her do anyhitng, let her kiss you anywhere. 

she’s in control when your tongues find their way back to each other, fingers bruning as they tighten against your skin, squeezing on it just above your hip bone. she kisses like you’re going to leave her grasp any minute, holding you close and pressing herself against you.

she starts to trail down to your neck in a way that thomas has never done before. she’s not attacking your skin like a desprate, thirsty dog, but like someone who knows what they’re doing. she definitely knows what she’s doing, the way she earns all these gasps and whines proves it.

“wait,” you gasp, then she pulls away, only to watch you hurriedly taking off your top. “continue.”

she chuckles before leaving opened mouth kisses against you, simultaneously moving you two to the couch. 

her fingers render you weak, like putty in her hands while you desperately grip at her hair. she moves you over and sets you down on the couch, gazing as she towers over you.

“you’re so fucking gorgeous,” momo slides her hand down the side of your torso. “you know that?”

“stop, you’re so– fuck you.” 

momo giggles before kissing you again, then retreats from your lips. your arms are around her neck, playing with strands of her hair before she asks,

“you’re okay with this, right?”

you giggle against her lips before pecking her again. “momo, i don’t think anyone has made me this weak – espseically thomas – i’m so wet it’s almost embarassing.”

“oh yeah?” she says teasingly. 

“just  shut the fuck up and fuck me already.” you rush out. 

momo grins against your lips as she kisses you again, and then you feel her hand trail down to your sweatpants. you gasp loudly when she slips her hand inside, pressing against your panties, and you break away from her lips in surprise. 

“you are very wet.”

“thanks,” she presses harder which earns a twitch and a gasp, “s-smartass.” 

her fingers slide your panties to the side of your folds, giving her access to slide up and down with ease. you can’t help but whine lowly at the feeling, biting your lip to conceal your excitement.

she inserts two fingers in, making your head shoot back into the cushion of the couch. you curse when she thrusts in, your walls pulsiate around her, clenching. 

“fuck,” she bites her lip. “you feel so good.”

you gulp roughly. “you– shit momo, keep that going.”

you gasp audibly the more she fingers you, the repetition of her name making her smile against you as she kisses your skin. she’s blazing against you, your bodies so hot against each other despite the clothes in the way. you grip her hair, close your eyes, and shift your hips up the more she pleases you. your back arches, momo keeps you situated in place with her free hand, then slides it over to palm your clad chest.

“m-momo, fuucckk–” 

momo feels you grip her shoulder tightly and watches you throw your head back. your legs close around her when her palm hits the nub above your folds again, and then she moves her palm in a circle over your clit aggresively, earning one last cry from you before your mind goes blank.

you let your head rest back for a while more as you catch your breath. you feel momo massage your thigh as you come down from your high. momo presses more kisses on your neck, letting her hand trail up your body and reach your head, raking her fingers through your hair. 

she pecks your jaw. “how was that?”

“holy shit,” you sigh, bringing your head back up to look at her. momo’s pupils are dilated beyond oblivion, and her flushed skin prompts you to bring a hand to caress her cheek. she looks adorable, even after she’s made your legs shake. “so good.”

she laughs and it’s like angels singing from above. you might melt.

“let’s clean up together, if you’re cool with that.”

you blink. “like, shower together?”

“yeah – unless that’s too forward!” she catches herself. “sorry, maybe too forward, i just want to make sure you’re okay and–”

momo is cut of when you kiss her, and then you pull back. she feels your thumb graze her cheek. 

“it’s perfectly fine momo.”

“okay, and then maybe if you want we can get food or something,” she begins, brushing her fingers against the skin of your shoulder. she moves over to play with your hair and looks at your lips. “or if you’re too tired then we can just sleep.”  

you pull her in for another kiss, that’s all you can really answer with for now. she reciprocates, following the slower tempo of your lips. 

you part from her. “i think i just want to kiss you more for now,” then you catch yourself. “wait, i haven’t even done anything to you yet, oh my god–”

“no, no. i’m already pleased enough hearing you say my name so much.” she assures teasingly. momo presses a kiss to your nose before mumbling, “let’s go with what you want.”

“you’re so lovely.”

“thanks y/n.” 

a hand finds it’s way to just below momo’s jaw on her neck, and momo’s hand slides down to the skin on your rib.

you smile, momo smiles.

you kiss her, she kisses back.

–

a groan leaves your mouth when you wake up. you feel someone clinging onto you and look down to see a face that brings a lazy smile to your lips.

momo’s head is on your shoulder, features pointing to the base of your neck. her breath is warm against you, and so is her body, and so is your heart. 

you rake a hand through her hair and she starts to shuffle against you. 

“y/n?”

“oh, momo, sorry to wake you.”

“no, i kind of woke up earlier.”

“are you lying?”

“no, not at all.”

she lifts her head up and you meet the messy hair framing her face, puffy cheeks, and partially squitned eyes. she’s adorable, you note, just naturally so. 

your bodies are naked, flushing against each other under the sheets because momo got needy and wanted to hear you screaming her name again. of course you didn’t complain, because if anything, you wanted it too. 

momo’s attentive to everything she does, and you find out that she’s like that with what she does to you. with every motion, touch, and anything intimate, she’s making sure you’re into it, making sure you’re left gasping and whining under her. she’s aroused from you feeling good, that’s all it takes for her to be wet herself.

her eyes meet the skin above your chest. “that hickey is pretty dark.”

“and who is responsible for that?”

momo rolls her eyes. “let me give you some more.”

you’re not arguing against that.

it’s ten in the morning, both of you had just woken up and momo is slipping under the blanket. her head makes its way in between your legs and the thrill of not knowing what she’s doing under the blanket makes you blush. and then you feel a hand on your upper leg, her fingers ticklish adn making you giggle. 

you let out a loose groan when momo licks up your entrance, the grip on your legs grows tighter. momo’s tongue moves inside you, then tends to your clit; her tongue moves in ways that has your voice ringing out, reverberating in the room.

and when you cum, so wonderfully when it’s momo who’s making you do so, you shake and arch even as momo keeps going. she slows her tempo down before kissing the inside of your thighs, seconds later she peeks out the covers and you can’t help but laugh at the way she emerges.

“we’ve just woken up and you’re already wet.”

you scoff playfully, ruffling momo’s hair. “again, who’s fault is that.”

“mine but,” she hovers over you before kissing your lips. “you like it.”

she sits up now, straddling you in a way. “now let’s get breakfast, eating you out is great but my stomach might yell soon.”

you laugh at her. “you’re like a vacuum.”

“well who else is going to finish your food, y/n. be grateful. besides, you like that too.”

–

you like momo a lot, that’s for sure.

you like the way she asks how you are, how she listens to you, and how she’s given you aftercare for the first time since the first time you fucked thomas.

momo’s like a breath of fresh air. it feels different being with her, like a wild animal feeling tenderness and care for the first time – different, calm, and nice. the more you spend time with her after this, going on more dates and rambling your tongues off until you’re both tangled up and passed ou ton the couch; you can’t help but realize that she’s who your time belongs to.

she’s nothing like thomas, light years away from being any similar to him. it’s satisfying watching him watch the two of you bond like you should, his presence reminds you that momo’s the upgrade you need, and he can’t do anything about the fact that he’ll never compare to his step-sister.

—

–

it’s a few months later after your first encounter with momo – almost two months after you slept with her – the two of you walk with your arms linked through the same park near your place.

she orders you coffee and you fish out pastries from your bag to share. she leads you to the same place that she had brought you to when you had first met, sitting the two of you down in front of the same tree.

momo pulls out her sketchbook, you lean on her when she unlinks arms.

“y/n,”

you peer at her curiously. “yes?”

“remember when i was talking about that design when we first met? the little seating area around that tree right there.” she points over at the little area where the tree stands. “it was for an assignment, but i tweaked some of the model and idea, looked over at some materials and–”

“what are you getting at?”

momo’s smiling big, so big that all her teeth show and her eyes almost close. 

“they’re going to add it.”

“what?”

“it’s happening, we talked to the park management and they really like my idea.”

your eyes widen and jaw slacks open. momo laughs as you hug her pulling away and then kissing her on the lips proudly.

“oh my god? oh my god. momo! i’m so proud, oh my gosh…”

she giggles before kissing you again. “thank you baby. i actually wanted to thank you.”

“what?”

“if it weren’t for you who listened to all my stupid rambling and listened so well, i don’t know if this would’ve happened.” momo begins, looking down at the paper and pen in her hands. then she looks at you with those big eyes of her, softening upon meeting your features. “and i know so much has happened and you’ve always been so great and–” 

she pauses, inhaling deeply.

“i just love you so much.”

she’s sitting there, looking at you with so much emotion, and you feel like a star in the sky has just been picked out and placed right in front of you. 

“momo, i love you too.”

if the world fell apart right this moment, you’d cling onto momo like your life depending on it. your hands find their way to her cheeks, you hold her face in your hands like she’d crumble if you let go – then, you kiss her, soft and sweet.

she moves her hand out of the way and you gasp. 

her cup of coffee tips over and leaks over, creating a palm sized stain on your coat. you watch as momo’s face contorts into one of panic, and then she picks up the cup, moving you away from the spill. you can’t help but laugh; you’re laughing at how she reacts to the situation, but also how perfect it is considering how your first time spent together – alone – had happened.

“i’m so sorry.” stars litter her eyes when she says it, you simply pull her in by the collar and kiss her again.

“you’re perfect.”

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

A Promise Woven in Silk

18/12: Letters & Lingerie Kink - Tom Bennett Word Count: 2.1k~ | Warnings: suggestive letters, masturbation (m), p in v sex A/N: thanks to @ewanmitchellcrumbs for checking my Tom Bennett was cunty enough 🤭

12 Days of Smuff Masterlist

Tom couldn't wait to be off this fucking boat.

It was a sort of slum in motion, but with the threat of being killed or drowned.

He made his own fun, practically forcing people's hands into betting on the day his canary laid an egg, pissing off the commanding officer and choosing rather colourful language when he was speaking to people of a higher rank than him. Not like he gave a shit.

But he only did those things because he was Tom.

It didn't make him really happy.

The only thing that managed to pull a smile to his face were letters with her handwriting on the front.

It felt wrong to call her a sweetheart so to speak. After all, at first there was no expectation of anything deeper, not wanting to get involved in something so trivial before he decided to disappear abroad. But it was exactly that expectation that drew him to her.

She wasn't desperate and needy. And yes, he'd tease her for it, but she was so fiercely independent, she turned her nose up at how a woman should conventionally act towards someone she liked.

He loved her for that.

He leapt onto the top bunk, checking the room was clear before pulling the sealed letter from his pocket, the paper slightly crumpled with her swirly feminine handwriting decorating the front.

Dearest Tom,

I hope you are settling into navy life well and are not causing too much trouble for the people who have the displeasure of being around you all day and night. 

He smirked. She knew him too well.

As I write this, my stomach flutters at the thought of your upcoming shore leave. I have been entirely too impatient to not tell you that I have concealed a great secret from you, one I should hope you will be pleased to uncover upon your return to me.

Picture me, with delicate lace trimming framing the curves of my body, meant for your eyes only of course. The fabric, as smooth as a moonlit ocean, holds promises of stolen moments where you are once again by my side.

I must confess, once you are back I scarcely think I could ever let you go again. The mere thought of you being here with me has a pleasant, exciting effect on my inhibitions. An effect, I dare say, you are keen to replicate.

I anticipate the shared warmth of our reunion, one I have no doubt you have sorely missed.

Yours in fervent longing…

He swore his mouth was agape, before a sly grin slipped onto his face.

Jesus Christ.

Tom's baby blues flitted over her handwriting, as if needing to commit the words to memory over and over to make certain he was reading the same thing.

His fingers gripped the delicate paper noticeably tighter as his mouth went dry.

Cheeky fucking minx.

Completely naturally, he brought the paper to his face, sighing longingly at the familiar scent of her perfume. She'd no doubt spritzed it a few times before sealing it, intent on torturing him even further as if the words alone had not done so.

Her scent flooded his mind, making way in his brain and pushing all the blood there south, his manhood pulsing almost uncomfortably at the memory of her.

The way he'd left her lingered there.

She had his white shirt around her shoulders and completely nothing else, her breasts peeking teasingly against the thin fabric as if to tempt him to stay when she knew he couldn't.

He'd almost jumped right back on her when she rose to her knees and plucked the post-coital cigarette from his lips to have a sweet, shallow drag of her own, her eyes aglimmer with mischief and sparkled with lust. 

And he's not ashamed to say that the image of her lips around the cigarette had him wishing they were around him instead. Looking up at him through her eyelashes, massaging the length that would not fit in her perfect mouth.

And so here, miles and miles from her, but unable to think of anyone or anything but her, he slipped his hand into his trousers, keeping her letter close to his face and pumped himself needily, imagining it was her grinding her hips atop him, her moist lips parted with those sounds he loved so much slipping forth.

He spilled himself over his knuckles in no time with a choked moan that he had to keep quiet.

It was sweet, sweet torture.

“Cheeky. Fucking. Minx.”

Tom practically skipped through off the train onto the platform, resisting the urge to break into a run as he played the route to her flat in his mind and how to get there the fastest.

It felt like he'd had a perpetual need for her ever since he read her words, which was more akin to pornography than an innocent love letter, having the desired effect of keeping him rock hard, fists clenched and jaw tightened.

God, she'd pay for that.

His boots thumped as he made his way up the back stairs to her flat, fists rapping on the door rapidly and excitedly, his chest feeling all tight and fluttery.

Every second there was no answer, his leg bobbed with anticipation.

Tom's tongue poked his cheek as the door slowly cracked open, a smile working its way to his face.

Her hair was waved over her shoulders, a satin dressing gown around her and tied at the middle, accentuating her waist, with her legs all bare and poking tantalisingly out beneath the rich fabric.

She herself gave a smirk, pulling the cigarette from her lips with two of her manicured fingers.

“Hello, sailor.”

Fuck, her voice.

She squeaked in surprise as Tom's tall form had to twist to force his way in, his bag forgotten to the floor with a thud, finding better purchase on her body as he surged down to meet her lips halfway. She smelled and tasted just as he remembered.

Bodies touching and smirking between fervent kisses, he mumbles between them, “Hello, beautiful.”

Heat rose to her cheeks, and equally sank to that spot between her thighs that grew moist, aided by the endless weeks without his presence.

“I can't believe you sent me such racy letters. You just want to get me in trouble, don't you... and believe me you're doing a fantastic job at it.”

She hummed, pulling away to look up at him, smirking as he plucked the cigarette from her to take a drag for himself.

“You've got to have something to look forward to on shore leave, Bennett.”

He grinned with all his perfect teeth, stubbing it out once he was done with it and running his tongue over his lips.

She scrunched her nose, her hands around his shoulders as she craned up to meet his misty gaze, “in any case, I don't know what you mean. My letters were perfectly well-meaning and innocent.”

He scoffed, the smoke leaving between his pink lips, blonde eyebrows raised, “innocent? Those letters could be classified as a war crime.”

Her lips part involuntarily, warmth gathering in her gut as his hands lay flat either side of her waist.

"Now, where's my promised prize? To celebrate my return.”

She bit back a grin, her hands sliding down his chest to the tie at her front, fingers pulling it loosely unbearably slowly.

Tom swore he ascended to heaven once the silk parted to reveal what she'd promised beneath, a delicate lacy number that seemed to drift over every curve and left very little to the imagination.

 “Now that's what I call a greeting and my reward.”

His hands assisted in pushing the silk off her shoulders, leaving her standing in her silk sleepwear, the front dipping right where the shadow of her breasts appeared.

He grinned like a schoolboy, raking in every piece of her he'd been unable to see for weeks. God, maybe even months.

“You know, I almost thought you were lying in your letter and you didn't actually have this... but you surprised me.”

Her eyelashes fluttered as they both leaned in, dragging his nose over her cheekbone and placing several kisses, too chaste for his nature, along her jawline.

“I couldn't possibly do that to you, Tom.”

She giggled girlishly as his hands were now unable to stop their journey around her body, squeezing and moulding the flesh to his palm as he guided her to her bed. He stood, looking down as she lay there waiting for him with that honey-like gaze, biting her lip when she saw him work on his own clothes.

Once he got to his belt, she lifted her hands to the straps of her brassiere, to pull them down, until Tom tutted at her, kneeing her legs apart in reprimand, earning a confused expression.

He loved it when she looked all dumb like that.

He smirked, “Maybe I want you to keep it on. You look good in it.”

At this she lowered her hands, eyes glimmering with mischief as she watched him struggle with his belt.

She smiled smugly, “have you gone soft on me, Tom Bennett?”

“Soft is the opposite of what I am right now, love.”

A soft giggle slides past her lips as Tom looms above her, shoving his trousers past his hips as they snag on nothing, his eyes hardening  the more frustrated he gets. But it quickly dissipates, core clenching around nothing once he pulls himself from his underwear, hardly having to stroke himself to full attention.

His fingers creep along the side of her thigh beneath the delicate lace, swiping the pads of his fingers against her, grinning widely when he finds his words and actions have had the desired effect, her hips twitching upwards at his touch. 

“Oh, love. You’re fucking soaked for me.”

His ministrations become rough almost instantly, tugging the silk to the side and running the fat head of his cock, red and weeping against her womanhood. She watches the way his chest inflates and deflates with heavy breathing, at how the dog tag there glimmering in the low light around his neck, looking down between them, the air feeling hot and only the sounds of pure carnal desire rumbling in their throats. 

“Tom - please -”, she mewled longingly, trying to move her hips to gain friction as he teases her bud with the tip of his length. 

A dark chuckle rumbles in his chest, “God I fucking love it when you beg. What do you think, should I make you do it again?”

She shakes her head quickly, closing her eyes and turning away with a warm face at the intensity of his gaze down at her. 

He huffs another laugh and lays atop her, pushing her leg apart with his knee and pressing a kiss to her temple, “It’s alright, love, too fucking impatient for that.”

Her mouth falls open, warmth flooding her as he pushes into her agonisingly slowly, splitting her apart on his length to slide into her slick walls. Tom can’t help but screw his eyes shut, burying his face in her neck and inhaling her perfume as her warmth squeezes him and her fingernails leave crescent-moon shaped marks on his back.

He barely waits to reach the end of her before he moves, his hips meeting hers softly at first, but increasing in vigour once he hears her tiny little whimpers, and the way she presses her lips together to try and be quiet. 

Ever stubborn. 

Skin meets skin with quiet smacks, neither needing to say anything (except for the occasional ‘fuck’ encompassed by a low moan from Tom) but just basking in this closeness they’d been deprived of in all the time they’d been away. He is sure he could stay between her legs all fucking day, squeezing the flesh of her thighs and tasting her lips on his. 

“Fuck - ‘m gonna-”, he moans lowly, his hand running up the nape of her neck and pulling the strands of her hair through his fingers, not enough to hurt. Her core tightens around him, head thrown back into the mattress, lips parted. 

“oh - fuck, yes-”

With a choked moan, he takes her over the edge with him, holding her so tightly that had he been in his right mind, he’d think he was hurting her. But she doesn’t protest. She only loosens her grip on him when his thrusts falter to a stop, but his length remains tucked inside her, shuddering when he feels her core clenching around him in the aftermath of her peak.

His normal attitude clouded by the haziness sex, he rests on his forearms above her, giving an exhausted smile that she returns. 

“That the greeting you were hoping for?” she asks, her breath coming in short, hot pants.

And just like that, the Tom Bennett grin returns, leaning down to capture her lips again, “Yes, but I’m not done with you yet.”

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[harry-styles-obsessed]

Can you do one where reader and him are best friends and he walks in on her changing and they both get really flustered? from his pov?

Delicate point of view

A/N: THANK YOU FOR THIS REQUEST!!! So sorry for not getting back to it!! My apps been buggy and hasn’t been showing me any submissions but it’s starting to work again!! I hope you didn’t have to wait too long for this… thank you for the support my loves. I adore each and every one of you!!

This as requested will be in Harry’s POV but I’ll be using ‘him’ I can just write easier that way instead of using ‘I’ and of course adding in ‘you/y/n’ whenever applicable. I hope that’s okay my love. Thank you again for the request!!

Pairings: Harry x insecure! Reader (decided it could make it more cute!!) exact weight/ body not specified to be all inclusive for different insecurities!!

©️ please do not copy or translate my work.

-

Harry had, had a busy day at the recording studio. He was a busy man with a busy schedule and sometimes it was impossible to spend time with those he loved however he had found some time to finally spend some time to relax with you— his best friend. You had been his friend for a long time, since childhood practically. You had both seen each other grow. He had seen you on your best days and worst days and had seen you grow into a mature beautiful woman. He always adored you, seeing you as the most gorgeous person ever but he never made any advances upon you. Not because he didn’t want to but because he didn’t know how you felt, you sometimes seemed like you wanted him but then at other points you seemed to not want him…. Whether that be due to insecurity or fear of something certain he couldn’t of been sure but gods did he wish he could be with you sometimes. You were both intimate people whom adored one another but nothing ever pushed you guys over the edge of dipping your toes into the depths of love.

He slowly pushed your front door open, he had sent you a message letting you know he was coming to yours for a bit and you were in the shower but your phone had been left on the messages so it indicated you had seen it so Harry walked into the home, quietly shutting the door behind him. He then began walking upstairs wandering into your room gently pushing the door open “y/n I’m here and—“ “HARRY!!” His words were cut off by your voice as you stood there wide eyed dressed in just your underwear and bra. “ohhhh… shit.” He cussed as you both stared at each other wide eyed, his eyes trailed up and down your body a flush of red covering his face his green eyes wide as he admired you thoroughly, he could’ve looked at you all day- admiring all the curves on your body. The tone of your skin… the way your skin looked so soft and delectable… it made his heart race. You genuinely looked perfect to him. His eyes continued scanning up and down your body, unable to look away. Harry had always been the perfect match for you, you were insecure and desperately needed someone to uplift you. Sometimes your weight and body in general scared you and Harry didn’t hesitate to- as your best friend- assure you that weight didn’t matter. Assure you that a real man or a real mature human being would love you as you were… but still right now you were scared shitless. What if he thought you were ugly? you were just unable to speak in general too shocked and rather horrified that your handsome best friend was here staring at you practically nude. Your mouth opened and closed over and over again like a fish, unable to get your words out until eventually�� “Harry cover your eyes!!!” Came from your lips and Harry quickly threw a hand over his eyes his ring covered fingers covering his eyes “Jesus Christ y/n..” he chuckled shaking his head “don’t peak!! I swear to god harry,” his cheeks were flushed bright red and he only laughed keeping his eyes covered, “don’t laugh Harry oh my god!! How embarrassing. Oh my god my best friend just saw me nude!” He continued chuckling at your rambling and just for your comfort to make you more comfortable he turned around.

His hands rested on his hips as he stared at the door listening to you rummage around clearly trying to get dressed “I don’t know why you’re freaking out so much, y/n.” He spoke. “Because YOU Harry fucking styles!! My BEST FRIEND!! Saw me…. Nude! Saw my body!” He could see your shadow moving slightly proving your hands were moving about as you practically freaked out more. He laughed still bright red “not completely nude…” “Harry! Not the point!” His dimples appeared as he grinned.

He heard you groan slightly as you nearly tripped up from putting on your jeans so quickly, your hands trembling your face flushed and your eyes watering fearfully. Harry was genuinely the kindest human being ever but still it terrified you for him to see you like this. “You okay?” He asked and you nodded, before eventually remembering he couldn’t see you and murmuring a quiet “yeah.”

You pulled on your T-shirt as finally you were fully dressed again and Harry turned around looking at you with a small smile before his smile disappeared “hey… what’s the matter?” His brows furrowed concerned and he walked towards you only for you to step backwards “y/n… hey.” He reached out grabbing onto your trembling hands holding onto your hands securely before he brought your hands up to his lips pressing soft kisses to your hands “what’s wrong. You look like you’re about to cry,” he pointed out concerned for you watching as you tried to shy away but he gently cupped your cheek in his hand. He knew the look on your face, he wasn’t stupid, he saw the insecurity the way the fear and sadness flashed before your eyes and he exhaled softly “let me guess… you’re afraid I think you’re ugly?” His words hurt your heart and you looked at him, your lower lip trembling slightly giving him the answer he needed. Sure you were both only best friends but he was always so tender with you. “Darling… don’t be silly. You’re beautiful inside and out… and seeing you without clothes on…. You’re just more gorgeous.” He spoke with a reassuring smile. “Really?” And he nodded his head “of course really. Cant you see my face..?” He chuckled out and you took time to finally examine his face cheeks bright red, eyes glistening, and a wide smile on his face his dimples very apparent. “Oh…” you trailed off softly and he smiled before holding your face in his hands stroking his thumbs against your cheeks lovingly “you’re so so beautiful… the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

Soon in a rather intimate way Harry leaned in to press soft kisses against your forehead, before trailing the kisses down your cheeks, across your nose, to your other cheek and down to your chin gently avoiding your lips “every part of you. Your nose…. Your cheeks… your lips.. your eyes… your body. All of you is… perfection.” He always knew how you were insecure, how you tried to fit in how perfect you tried to be how the pressure of society was nowadays to have a “perfect” body and perfect face. “Do you really think I’m beautiful? Perfect?” You asked with teary eyes and he nodded his head slowly “of course.” He continued stroking his thumbs against your cheeks softly “I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again… whatever you weigh. Whatever anybody weighs… to the right person… it doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. But there’ll always be judgemental people out there… but no matter what my love… you’re beautiful…. Fuck what anyone else thinks. You’re my best friend and I think you’re perfect. I know you’re perfect.”

You smiled staring into his eyes watching as he began getting closer and closer until his lips were brushing against yours in a subtle kiss, as if making sure it was okay with you, but you didn’t respond— too shocked, but at you not pulling back, he took that as a yes and leaned in kissing you more deeply pressing his lips hard against yours but the tenderness remained, his hand caressing against your cheek, before eventually he pulled back after a singular kiss to look into your eyes “and… also…” his thumb brushed against your cheek “butterflies can’t see their wings, but they’re beautiful without knowing it.” His lips curved into a small smile as your smile slowly grew and you leaned in kissing him realising just how perfect you both were for each other… the butterflies within your stomach swirled desperately. Oh how you loved him and oh how he loved you.

[thewailingbells]

I love how you write. It's so perfect ✨️🫶

can I request a headcanon on Thomas Hewitt?

and another character if you want

How would Thomas react if we found him cheating on us?

I need angust in my life

Sorry for the mistakes, english isn't my main language 😅

Cheater

AN: I’m so sorry but I did not answer this request the exact way you asked. I made it so the reader thinks Tommy is cheating on her but he really isn’t. I did this because my little heart couldn’t handle all the angst and I honestly don’t think Tommy is the type of person to cheat.

Warnings: Mentions of sex, nudity and rude language towards the reader from Hoyt.

"Tommy! I got a present for ya! Get your ass to your bedroom!” Hoyt yelled loud enough for the entire house to hear.

A group of unfortunate tourists visiting the state of Texas got pulled over by the self-proclaimed Sheriff Hoyt. He made them all enter his car and drove them back to the Hewitt household where they would meet their untimely demise.

Thomas immediately took them to the basement and made quick work of all of them—or at least he thought he did. While he was finishing chopping up one of the last bodies, he heard Hoyt scream for him.

Tommy put down his cleaver and went upstairs. He saw you and Luda May sitting at the dining table. He gave you a quick wave before going upstairs to his bedroom.

Tommy opened the door, and his jaw dropped. He quickly looked away and covered his eyes. There was a woman completely naked tied to his bed. She was bound to the bed in a starfish position, leaving her whole body exposed.

Hoyt laughed at Thomas’s shocked face. "What’s wrong, Tommy? Thought you might want a new toy. The girl you got now is all loose and stretched out. This one’s perfect for ya. She’s all nice and ripe. So much better than that used-up bitch you’ve been keeping around for years now."

Hoyt’s words enraged Tommy. Before you came along, family always came first. Now that your in his life, he prioritized you over everything. That’s why he quickly grabbed Hoyt by the throat and lifted his body off the ground. He balled his free hand into a fist and punched him in the face. You and Luda May heard Hoyt scream in pain. You immediately jumped out of your seat and ran upstairs.

"Tommy! Tommy, sweetie, are you okay? What’s going on—" Your heart sank. You looked at Thomas with angry eyes and stormed out of the room. He quickly dropped Hoyt’s body to the ground and ran after you. You were already outside the front of the house when he caught up.

"Leave me alone, Tommy! I don’t want to hear it!"

Thomas grabbed your shoulder and yanked you back. You let out a groan of pain. He turned you around to face him. Your eyes were watering.

"You got bored of me! Is that it? After everything we’ve fucking been through? I gave up my entire life to be with you! Were you just gonna kill me? Chop me up like all the other girls who come through this house?"

Thomas vigorously shook his head. It was times like these that he wished he could talk. His heart broke when you started sobbing.

"I love you, Tommy. Don’t you love me? You used to love me…"

You watched as the huge man dropped to his knees in front of you. He placed his hands on your hips and looked up at you with sorrowful eyes. He did love you. He would always love you and only you.

Before you could say anything else, you heard Luda May yelling from inside. "Jesus Christ, Hoyt! What’s wrong with you? Get out there and apologize! Right now! Go!"

You gave Tommy a confused look. He only nodded his head. That’s when Hoyt came outside, with Luda May following right behind him. You wiped the tears from your eyes and looked at Hoyt. Thomas was still on his knees, hugging you.

Hoyt sighed. "Tommy didn’t want that girl. I put her in his room. Figured he would want a new toy to fuck. Someone who wasn’t as stretched out as you. The dumb fool still loves you, though. He don’t want anyone else."

Luda May slapped him for his crude language. "He’s telling the truth."

You gently pushed Tommy’s hair out of his face. You ran your hand along his cheek. He was crying now too. "Oh, sweetie…" You leaned down and pressed a kiss against the top of his head. "I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I thought you were cheating on me. I should’ve known you would never do that."

Thomas stood on his feet and shook his head. He signed, "I am sorry."

You started crying again. "I love you so much, baby. Don’t be sorry."

He wrapped his hands around the back of your head and pulled you in for a passionate kiss.

Hoyt made fake gagging noises. "Go kill the girl then, Tommy! Stop being all mushy and kill her."

Thomas looked at you and nodded. He immediately ran inside to deal with the naked girl in his bed. The sounds of screams and blood splattering could be heard from a mile away. There was nothing to worry about with Tommy. He’s loyal to his first and only love, you.

[haunteddetectivepeach]

Danny 'Jed Olsen' Johnson x pregnant reader

You

You met the ghostface regularly, or rather, it went to your home. You had sex many times, at first you felt guilty about the fact that it is the ghostface and the same hands that satisfied you and touched you are the same ones that kill innocent people.

Most of the time he did not use a condom. But it was okay because you are taking pill, but now, the unexpected happened, your mestruation has been late for 2 weeks, you thought it was just because of the stress of work unitil it started to feel alot of nausea and your breasts were well sore, you refused to take a pregnancy test, for fear, fear off what will happen if you are pregnant, pregnant with a serial killer, not just a serial killer, but the ghostface, or rather, Danny, at the least that was the names he gaves you.

You just woke up from a party that your friend Jessie called you, you are not much of parties, but you were a little away from your friend because of your little case with the largest serial killer in the United States of America, and was scared of what he can do about people close to you, Danny is a little jealous, the last time a guy screwed me, he cut his throat the next day...

I felt guilty for days, but the guy ran a hand on my ass, so on a second thought, i don't feel guilty at all.

RING RING RING

The alarm sound tuck tou of you thoughts. And them the desire of vomit again, i think i will really have to do this...arriving in the bathroom, you took the small box were there was the pregnancy test from the courter where you have you things. After doing the whole process, you let out a sign and them start to despair when you look at the results, positive, "Positive, a fucking positive, of couse, the pill was no use shit any" you talk softly "Jesus Christ, what do i do? Abortion? Tell him? Cry?scream? Oh my god, oh my fucking god, i have to run away? Just go?" You start crying softly, looking at the little staff in your hands, and finally, thrown on the trash.

Danny Johnson/Jed Olsen

I woke up early to play the perfect american citizen Jed, the dear Jed, who all love and no one even suspicious. I passed my gel on my black hair I observed my body toned on the mirror, despite some scars, and them my suit and tie, all perfect.

I arrived at gazette journal, greeted the receptionist and secretariats until i arrived at my office. I was trying to make my new article, John Smith, my last victim, but i couldn't have her out of my head, the woman i find myself, me, Danny, not the Jed. Then my mind dive to her body curves, her breasts, her ass..."Damn" i have to stop thinking about her, i have to do this article, and a can't to it with an erection, it would spoil the perfect Jed, no one can think Jed is a pervert that get hard at work, but damn, i still remember our last night, the last time we saw each other, because unfortunately i was too busy with John shit Smith, at least it was a good death, but nothing, nothing make me forget her, my bunny, she's too perfect, her body, her face, i remember every little bit about her body, you can't forget a woman like that, not even if i wanted to, i still remember...our sweaty bodies in that bed, her breasts swaying as the rhythm increased, her nails digging into my back, her legs whapped around me as if she didn't want me to leave, her sly moans in my ears as you told me to go deeper, harder, more...more, the creaking of the bed, the wet sheets, your room smelled of sex, and the only sounds heard were our skins slapping together, you sweet moans. Only her, only she can do this to me, she holds me and i can't let go, she was the only woman, who entered my thoughts and i can't take it away, i can't.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

A knock on the door brought me of my thoughts. "You can come in" Soon Jeff enter "Olsen, here is some informations that the police gave us, we need this article sent today" Jed gives him a small smiley enough to Jeff "Of course sr, it will be ready before you remember it" Jeff nodded "I knew a cold count on you, Olsen" Then Jeff left the room eating his disgusting greasy donut in his hand, Danny wanted to kill this man, but he know's he can't, he realized that he can't kill anyone at work that would bring suspicion, and he really doesn't want to be seen or have problems with the police.

You

I'm at work talking to my boss about a state transfer, it was my decision, i going to leave, i going to run away and I'm not going to tell anyone, not my friends, anyone. I really have to go, what would he do if he found out I am pregnant, and worse, with his child. I can't, i can't take it, I'm terrified, we don't even have a relationship, i don't even know if a know him well, of course I know that he is the ghostface, the most wanted serial killer in Roseville, Florida. But at all, I never saw his face, at least not all of it, we kissed so much times, we had sex but I was blindfolded most of the times or remaining wearing a mask. My boss said there was a transfer to Utah, and i accepted. And about Danny, he hasn't come for a few days, probably busy with new victims, and we are not dating ou anything else, We just fucked, a lot of times. Whenever we fucked i would wake up alone in the sheets, wich still had his cheap cologne on, he would stay with me until I fell asleep and leave late at night so he wouldn't be seen. He always leaves a post it saying something like: See you, Darling. That's why I know he cares about me, but a child? A child of ours? A mini us? I'm definitely scared if he finds out before I can leave, it's for the best for us, because he is a fucking serial killer, and yet, I slept with him and not just once. Okay, i have to leave today, I'm not taking any furniture, nothing, just some clothes and essential objects for my work so that he doesn't get suspicious before I can leave. I told my boss not to tell anyone about where I went , no matter who. I took the first taxi to the airport and just let myself go. "Goodbye, Danny."

Danny

After work, I got ready with my ghostface costume and went to see her, i parked far from her house, in the darkest part, where no one could see me. I watching trying to find her, but nothing. I decided to go in, i looked in every room, and i waited for her to arrive, hour passed and i tried to call her on my spare number that I use for ghostface calls, but she wasn't answering, I ran to check the drawers and nothing, there was no nothing, i decided to go back the next day.

The next day, i went to the hospital where she works, I ask the receptionist if you was there, and she told me that you don't longer work there, i asked to speak to your boss, he told me that you request transfer. Why? I asked him where, but he said you asked him not to tell anyone, no matter who. Shit. At night, i went to your house, pissed, angry, that's all l fell. Why? You think you could get into in my head, and just...leave, like it's was nothing? I started to break down everything, thrown everything on the floor. "FUCK"

You

It's been 2 years, 2 years since I left, 2 year I've been in Utah and a year since my baby was born, a strong and healthy little boy, he has the same grey eyes as Danny, and the face is similar, it's been exactly 2 weeks since he turned 1 years old, I made his day the most especial. My mother helped me with everything since I arrived in Utah, she helped me with the move furniture and my house a large two-story with 2 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms, my son's room is fully of toys, painting notebooks and very colorful for my baby.

I was preparing his food while he has coloring with crayons, when the news on television caught my attention, i was paralyzed. ALERT: 26-YEARS-OLD MAN FOUND DEAD THIS MORNING. On the television was the photo, the ghostface over the censored corpse, my son was entertaining himself with some building blocks, for wich i thank the gods. It took a while to reason, he...he's here, in Utah. He knows? Does he knows I'm here? Did he come after me? Did he come to kill me for leave? No, I just paranoid, there no way he was discovered at all. "Damn, stop worrying, everything will be okay, he will not find me, I hope..."

Two weeks after the first ghostface murder

Danny

I was crouching in a bush watching a house, and that's when I saw her. There she was cooking and dancing to the sound of a song where I couldn't identify. But... she was not alone, squeezed my eyes and managed to see, was a baby, a boy, apparently 12 months or 1 year. Smiling without teeth right. So he made the calculations, 1 years that the baby appears to have and 2 years she left, she was still meeting him, wasn't she? Or she was having sex with another guy while sleeping with him..or is his baby?. That's why, why is she gone? Is the baby really his? A fruit of them two? I was dipped in my thoughts. I need to see right, I need to see the boy well.

You

I was holding my son on my hip while we danced to the sound of (f/v)

And I prepare a food for both of us. Until I observed a movement outside. I put in (y/c/n) in the Feeding chair and headed toward the window, watched and found nothing. Maybe it was my head, or not. When I and (y/c/n) we finished eating, it was a little late and put him in the crib, I sang a song until he fell asleep, when he slept, headed for my room that was near him to be easier to Listening to crying or meeting your needs, put a nightgown and tied my hair awkwardly with a little hair in front and lay down. A few hours or minutes maybe I heard a wooden noise, I took a bat and went towards the noise came from.

It came from my son's room, walked fast towards a totally dark room, I stared at the crib and he wasn't there when I looked at the armchair that is located in the corner of the room and was there. Danny. Holding our son, in his arms, was the small figure sleeping peacefully with his little hands playing lightly in the white mask, Danny who looked at him, suddenly changed his gaze to me, the only lighting in the room was the moonlight brightness, Until then the silence was broken. "Hello Darling"

"What are you doing here?" "What? I can't visit my lover? Or rather, my son's mother"

He said getting up carefully as he snuggled (y/c/n) in the crib. "It's my baby, isn't it? So you left?" He says approaching slowly until he was centimeters from you, the difference in visible height and the small space that could only be heard the breaths of each other, he put his hand gloved in his chin and raised stop his eyes through the mask. "Answer me, honey" He speaks so low that he sounded like a whisper. His lips separated to speak, but nothing left. He raises a little from the mask and gets closer, you finally wave your head."Yes..." he then gets millimeters from you and collides the lips against yours. When you leave it, he looks at you eyes with a predatory gray look at yours and says "our son, and you are mine, sweetheart, just mine, and we are a family. We and our little boy. I love you, bunny"

He said with his head now without the mask touching yours. with your lips almost touching

"I love you too, Danny".

[juletheghoul]

the morning after

Gif by @pedropascalsx

Authors note: Joel has consumed me (much like everyone!) and I couldn't help but write more for these two. Hope you enjoy more Neighbour!Joel (Thanks to my bestie @wheresarizona for encouraging me and to my literal wife @foli_vora for being the best)

Read part 1 here

Pairing: Young Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: 18+ no minors, piv sex, dirty talk, creampie, fluff, flirty Joel which I think needs it own warning- let me know if I missed any!

Masterlist Series Masterlist next chapter

———

It's his alarm that wakes you both, you hadn't even realized you'd fallen asleep,

You yawn, a full body stretch around the strong wall of him behind you. You know he hadn’t meant to stay the night, but at some point the pillow talk had lulled, the warmth of him, the softness of you—neither of you stood a chance. He sighed from behind you, shutting his phone off with a groan.

“Morning neighbour.” You settle back into a comfortable position, enjoying the feeling of him caged around you.

“Mmm.” He moves with you, his hand running along the soft skin of your belly, his nose skimming along the curve of your shoulder. “Mornin’ sugar.” He presses a kiss to your skin and you can’t help but scoot back, press yourself as close as you can.

You feel it then, the hard line of his cock against the curve of your ass, sending a bolt of arousal through you.

“I gotta go baby, Sarah will be up soon, and Tommy will be up my ass soon.” Even as he says the words, his hand sweeps up from your belly, to your breast, your nipple hardening almost painfully in his palm. You pout to yourself.

“Stop teasing me then.” You arch into his touch, relishing his warmth. “You want some coffee before you go?” You resign yourself to move but he tightens his hold, rolls you onto your back and slots his hips between your thighs.

“On second thought, I think I got time.” He presses kisses to your chest, his mouth on a pilgrimage from one shoulder to the other. Your hands find the smooth skin of his ribs, on a trip of their own to map out every inch of him you can reach.

You sigh, the sound content, it’s so lovely to have him here filling up the space in your bed and between your legs.

“Time to tease? Or time to fuck me before you leave?” You roll your hips against him, arousal flowing and he groans to feel himself slotted between the lips of your sex.

“You’re gonna be the death of me woman.” He surges up to capture your mouth in a hungry kiss, his arms bracketing the sides of your head as your legs bracket his hips. His tongue dances with yours, rocketing the arousal up, into the stratosphere. He makes you feel like a teenager again, heart racing, breathless excitement.

He moves to kiss your neck, trailing his lips down until his teeth tug at your nipple and you reward him with a gasp. He soothes the delicious pinch with his tongue, ruthless with the sensitive bud, and then the other until you whine.

His eyes find yours, lively and dark and full of want.

“I have to make sure you’re wet enough to take me.” He uses his teeth again and you gasp, again he soothes. “Make sure that perfect little cunt can handle my big dick.” You pull him up, needing to taste his mouth again.

It’s all teeth and tongues, gentle and not so gentle bites to each other's lips until you feel him reach down, slot himself at the mouth of your cunt and slide in tauntingly slow, soothing the ache of emptiness.

Your cunt flutters around the stretch of him, the wet suck of it keeping him inside while he takes a breath.

“Jesus christ woman,” He sounds wrecked, forehead pressed against your cheek. “So fucking wet, so tight, gonna finish this party before we even start.” You laugh, breathless.

“Feels so fucking good Joel–I just want you here all day.” You clench around him and the groan he lets out is filthy.

“Don’t tempt me, woman, I have responsibilities.” His thrusts are lazy, unhurried and they make your mind blank. “Much as I want to stay right here.” He punctuates his words with a harder punch of his hips, it makes you cry out. “You’d like that wouldn’t you sugar, my cock buried nice and deep all day.” He lifts his head to look down where you’re joined and he moans, you know he can see himself, all glossy and slick with you.

“Yes, yes, harder–oh–” He braced himself, and quickened his pace, a wet obscene sound fills the space and it’s getting harder and harder to form a coherent thought.

“Fuck, fuck you feel so fucking good, I’m gonna come soon baby, I need you to come first.” His tone has lost its playfulness, replaced with an urgency that gives credence to his words.

You reach down and circle your fingers around your clit and that familiar heat blooms in your spine, in your breasts and in your belly. He dips his head and takes a nipple into his mouth and you burst. A shudder rolls through your body, the pleasure a wave cresting across every inch of you and it pulls him right down with you.

He comes with a cry, burying himself as deep as he can, grinding his come into the very heart of you.

“Jesus.” The word is a pant against your skin, his face is shiny with exertion, so beautiful in the golden light of the early morning. “What a way to start the day.” You laugh, giddy with joy and pleasure and he’s not wrong.

“Give me a second to catch my breath and I’ll make us some coffee.” You hold onto his face in both your hands, covering it in kisses and he smiles so wide the dimple is on full display.

“You’re gonna spoil me.”

“Only if you let me.” You keep kissing him, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him pressed up tight.

“Oh I’m fixin’ to let you.” His beard is scratchy, it tickles when he buries his face into the crook of your neck and you can’t help but laugh, lost in the euphoria of his affection until his phone trills again.

“Fuck–What time is it? Yes baby girl,” He answers the phone, panicking now, suppressing a hiss when he pulls out and away. “Oh god, okay okay, give me a few minutes and I’ll be right there. Tell uncle Tommy to hold his horses. Did you eat breakfast?” He’s pacing around the room, collecting different articles of clothing while you put on some clothes. “Okay see you in a minute.”

He puts on his t-shirt and opens the door to your bedroom, nearly tripping over Tucker where he lays on the floor. “Christ, sorry boy–” You both make your way down and he all but runs towards the door before turning to find you behind him. “Sorry for runnin’ out like this, can I see you later?” His hand finds your lower back, pulling you in for a quick kiss.

“Of course, I’ll be here.” You pull him down for another quick kiss and then he’s gone.

You hear him apologizing to his daughter, she’s standing on the porch, a very amused smile on her face when she tells him his shirt is on inside out. You close the door with a smile, and set about getting ready for the day.

-

Tag list: @frannyzooey @greeneyedblondie44 @lola4pedro @ezrasbirdie @221bshrlocked @artsymaddie @supernaturalgirl20 @sleep-tight1 @sherala007 @marydjarin @cannedsoupsucks @thirstworldproblemss @ilikechocolatemilkh @freeshavocadoooo @hrk-fic-recs @maxwell--lord @princessxkenobi @the-feckless-wonder @kirsteng42 @thisshipwillsail316 @feministfanboi @dihra-vesa @stevie75 @readsalot73 @pedrostories @tobealostwanderer @mandocrasis @elegantduckturtle @diogodxlot @alczysz17 @evyiione @absurdthirst @beskarboobs @andruxx @littlemissoblivious @1800-fight-me @maievdenoir @gracie7209 @omlwhatamidoinghere @magikfanatic @frankiecatfish @mrs-ghuleh @pedritoispunk @studythoreauly @missswriter @pintsizemama @mswarriorbabe80 @a-trial-run-on-paper @la-le-lu @chickadee-djarin @dobbyjen @rosiefridayrogersunday @ajeff855 @johnsrevelation @the-witty-pen-name @zombiesnips-blog @quica-quica-quica @sarahjkl82-blog @fan-of-encouragement @queenofthecloudss @deadhumourist @felicisimor @sophiefatale2495 @toomanystoriessolittletime @what-iwish-you-knew @pedrostories @athalien @bi-thewayy @literallydontlook @pedrosbrat @gamingaquarius @localddreamers @luxmundee @iamafadedmoon @nakhudanyx @littlemisspascal @grogusmum @recklessworry @heyitmelexie @killyspinacoladas @gothicxbarbie @evildxad @dragonslarimar @spideysimpossiblegirl @chemtrail-mix @maievdenoir @breezythesimp @altarsw @artooies-scream @staygolddindjarin @softsweetedbeauty @littlemisspascal @yuiopiklmn @squidwell @allthatsleftbehind @just-blogging-around @bbyanarchist @girlofchaos @maddiedrmr @frasmotic @acourtofsnakes @buckybarneshairpullingkink @astoryisaloveaffair @harriedandharassed @swtaura @send-me-to-valhalla @shirks-all-responsibilities @androah @alwaysachorusgirl @dindjarinsmut @captain-jebi @gallowsjoker @oliviajdjarin @actuallyanita @tusk89 @dadbodfanatic-x @naiomiwinchester @blazedprince @rosymythologies @avidreader73 @mr-underhills-things @avengersfan25 @thesolarangel

[shslbunnylover]

Could you do a chessy X reader where the reader is the ranch hand/horse caretaker for the vineyard and one day the reader has an accident with one of the horses and chessy is the only one around to save her? Fluff and angst would be perfect!

★ ★ ★ Kiss it better ★ ★ ★

Character: Chessy

Summary: When a particularly difficult to handle horse knocks you unconscious, Chessy can't help but fuss over you, leading to some new developments in your seemingly platonic relationship

Taglist: @inlovewithgreta @lilfartbox1

Trigger Warnings: Horse accident, blood, unconsciousness,

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Author's Note: LET'S GO ANOTHER REQUEST DOWN!! >:3

Word Count: 3.23k

Working at the Parker Knoll Vineyard definitely had its upsides, great pay, working with your favorite animal all day, and the nice solitude that came with working alone on the long acres covered in grapevines (Seriously, this dude is loaded, how does he not have more hostlers??).

“Bye Chessy!” You heard a voice come out from the mansion, whom you assumed to be Annie by her British accent.

And there was your favorite part of working on the Parker Knoll. The housekeeper.

Chessy, to you at least, could be described as one of the most beautiful people you've ever met both inside and out.

No matter how much you'd try to deny yourself of your crush, it never seemed to work, and you'd always end up dreaming about the brunette.

“Alright, you four have fun!” You heard Chessy exclaim, waving the kids and their parents away as they walked out the door with their suitcases

You looked back at the mansion that was about an acre off from the area you were standing in before turning back, laughing to yourself as you saw Chessy chasing after the twins while their parents packed up.

Jesus Christ that woman was cute.

Turning back, you put the music back on your walkman before continuing your work on changing the horseshoes for Nick's steed.

You had been hired at the Parker Knoll Vineyard around 5 months after you graduated college with your bachelor equine degree, and when you moved to Napa, you began applying for as many jobs as possible.

When you found an advertisement in the paper for a job at a successful winery a few weeks later, specifically looking for a hostler and stable caretaker, you were overjoyed to find yourself beginning the application process.

Always being a horse person, you found your comfort in the stables of every ranch you had ever worked at starting in your mid-teens.

Sure they smelled like literal horse shit, but you loved to see how free spirited these creatures were. You were pretty much convinced that they were ethereal beings when they were left off the reins for a minute.

You had gotten into a few minor accidents in your early years of being an equestrian and a hostler (even though they weren't really minor and ended up with you getting a sprained ankle), but you'd learned from those mistakes, and now considered yourself well acquainted with the creatures you adored.

To you, finding your equestrian themed job at the Parker Knoll was the true start of your independent life, and you wouldn't have had it any other way.

“Where the hell did Nick put the horseshoes?” You looked around, attempting to find the object as Nick had rearranged the entire stable, leaving you confused as to where everything was.

You sighed, finally picking up the metal horseshoe to place them on the horse, who always gave you a pretty hard time when it came to changing his racing plates.

“Settle down boy…” You pet the much larger creature, trying to soothe the frazzled horse as you tried to pick up his leg.

The horse neighed violently, his tail swishing up and hitting you in the face.

You sighed, still trying to calm the creature.

“Come on sweetheart, I need you to work with me,” You cooed, petting the horse as you went to bend down.

But before you could even get fully to your position to change the plate, a hard force slammed straight into your face, knocking your body to the ground with a broken nose and definitely some other injuries.

You hit the ground, your breath being knocked out of you from the force of the creature's hoof shoving you to the dirty floor.

You cried out in pain louder than you thought, your body laying on the ground as your nose bled violently down your face. Your eyes began to go blurry, and you gripped the ground.

Your nails dug against the finished wood, your mind trying to fight the overcoming blacked out state. You had handled this before, you could do it again. It's not like this horse was pretty much 3 times your size. You could handle it.

Attempting to tilt your head up, a sharp pain shot through your body starting at your nose and spreading to the rest of your form.

“Fuck!” You cried, beginning to feel your body succumb to unconsciousness as the paralyzing feeling coursed through your blood and muscles, leaving you to pass out on the hay covered floor of the stables.

You weren't sure just how loud or for how long you'd cried out, but you knew it was loud enough for someone to hear, because just before you passed out, you saw a flash of brown and blue over your body before it all went black.

Chessy stood over you, freaking out as she propped your body up onto her own, her hand that wasn't holding your back up moving to hold your legs.

When she heard you scream from inside the house, she had dropped everything and ran to the stables to find you.

“Y/N??” She tried to wake you up, holding your nose with the sleeve of her jacket she had taken off to try and stop the bleeding. “Y/N wake up!” Chessy exclaimed, beginning to tear up as her breathing increased.

She already had shaky breathing from her running all the way to the stables from the house in less than 2 minutes, and now her upcoming panic attack over seeing you knocked out only caused her heart and breathing to race even more.

She moved her hand from under your legs and placed two fingers on your neck, a small cry of relief leaving her lips as she felt your pulse.

You laid in her arms, your body limp with shaky breathing, you looked so small in her arms even though she herself was smaller than you.

“Fucking Christ-” She held you tightly, hyperventilating beyond belief at the mere thought of losing you. God she couldn't lose you. “Stay with me sweetheart, please-”

She held you tightly in her arms, and it felt like her world was collapsing. She was terrified of losing the people she cared about, but if she lost you…she wouldn't know what to do with her life.

She loved you dearly, even if she didn't think you felt the same way.

Chessy scooped you up fully into her arms bridal style, and she kept trying to wake you up for a few solid minutes through choked out sobs.

When she saw your body begin to twitch, she stood up with you in her arms, making sure the horse was locked up before rushing you into the house.

A course of pain flushed through your body as you woke up, and a small grunt escaped your lips.

“Shit-” You grimaced, your hand sliding against the surface beneath you, your eyes widening when you felt the fabric of a bed instead of the furnished wood that you had collapsed onto.

You looked around, your eyes scanning your surroundings.

This wasn't your room.

“What the…where am I…?” You muttered, recognizing the land out the window, knowing you were back in the mansion, but where in it?

“Be careful sweetheart,” You saw Chessy immediately run in, her eyes red and puffy from what seemed like crying, she had a bottle of water in her hands with a corresponding bottle of medicine.

“Chessy?” You muttered, your head tilting to face her.

“Oh thank God you're awake,” Chessy sat on the bed, kissing your forehead before picking you up with surprisingly strong arms.

Your cheeks scattered a bright red, and you barely managed to stutter out a response.

“W-Where am I?”

Chessy propped you up onto by far the largest amount of pillows you had ever seen, allowing for your body to sink softly as if it was on a cloud.

“You're in my room, hon,” Chessy caressed your cheek. “I heard you scream and…” She trailed off, trying to remove the image of the person she cared about so much in that much pain out of her head. “I took you back to my room after I found you so I could take care of you,”

Your head turned to the right, and you noticed a whole tray of supplies on her nightstand, the books previously there now thrown onto the floor next to it.

The tray consisted of a fresh ice pack wrapped in a soft white towel for your nose, cotton balls to soak up the blood escaping your nostrils, band-aids for the scratches on your body you had suffered from the fall, and a bottle of cold water and some fruit in a bowl.

A small cold drop on your nose knocked you out of your small daze, and you realized that your nose wasn't in as much pain as before, which you realized was the case because Chessy had another towel-wrapped ice pack in your nose already.

“Chessy- You don't have to do all of this, I'm fine,” You murmured, still in a lot of pain and in no mood to actually stand up and protest, so you just let whatever the woman do what she wanted to your injured frame.

“No, you're injured, and you scared the shit out of me,” She shot a small glare, causing the blush on your cheeks to darken. “I'm taking care of you,”

You sighed, leaning your head back, too tired to fight.

“Fine…if you say so,” You grimaced.

Chessy’s glare softened, and she moved a few strands of hair away from your face and kissed your forehead.

“Oh hon, I'm so glad you're okay…I don't know what I would have done if I lost you,” The brunette sniffled, wiping her eyes with the non blood-covered sleeve of her jean jacket.

You blushed at her concern, your lips forming a small smile.

“I was going to be fine, just a little accident,” You chuckled.

Chessy frowned at you.

“Y/N, you were unconscious,” The shorter woman said sternly, pulling her glasses back on top of her head.

“I know- But I didn't die?” You attempted to assure her, cursing yourself when she only teared up more.

“I can't lose you sweetheart, I love you too much,” The brown eyed woman blushed, cupping your chin.

A small stutter escaped your lips at the mention of the word ‘love’.

“You're not losing me that quickly,” You chuckled, trying to dismiss the words that left Chessy's mouth.

Chessy smiled back at you.

“I know…” She chuckled, looking down at your form. “Oh hon, why don't I get you all cleaned up?” She cooed, placing a hand overtop of yours.

Your eyes widened, and you stuttered.

“H-Huh?”

“Can I change you out of these clothes hon?” The brunette asked.

“N-No, Chessy it's okay, I can go back to-”

You're cut off by Chessy crossing her arms and looking down at you with a raised eyebrow.

“That wasn't what I asked, I asked if I could change you into something comfortable,” She then put her hands on her hips.

You bit back a blush, and you simply nodded.

“Please…” You murmured.

Chessy smiled softly, walking out of the room and returning with one of her hoodies and pairs of sweatpants before stripping you of your uncomfortable riding gear.

Your cheeks heated up at the exposure of your skin, and you let out a sigh as Chessy took off your knee and elbow pads.

She looked at you with a smile, laughing at your relaxation.

“I knew you needed a break from the gear,” She chuckled, taking a few baby wipes and wiping down your body with them.

Your head leaned back, every muscle in your body relaxing at the touch of the wipe clearing off any sense of dirt.

“Thank you for this, Chess,” You hummed.

“Anything for you, baby,” The brunette smiled, placing her hoodie onto your body before sliding her sweatpants over your legs.

“Are you sure I'm not taking you away from your job?” You asked her, holding onto a pillow that was resting next to you.

“What do you mean sweetheart? I'm doing my job right now?” Chessy looked at you, taking her fingers and running her digits through your hair softly, taking it out of the ponytail it was in.

You chuckled.

“You're too good to me Chessy,”

“No I'm not, now be a good girl and stay still while I bandage you up, okay hon?” She instructed, beginning to apply some petroleum jelly onto the small scratches across your arms.

The nickname made something inside you flutter, and you immediately nodded, desperate to hear her praise you again. You just wanted to hear her want you.

“Good girl,” She repeated, rubbing in the jelly before taking the now lukewarm ice pack off of your nose and replacing it with the freshly cold one.

As she waited for the jelly to settle in, she wiped off the final remaining drops of blood off of your philtrum, tossing the last cotton ball away as the blood had finally dried up.

Another smile came back to your face as you heard her praise.

“Where did the Parker's all go?” You asked.

“They went up to that mountain cabin Nick just bought a few weeks ago, they'll be gone until around Wednesday,” Chessy replied.

“So…it's just us?” You asked.

“Us and Sammy,” She chuckled, hearing the dog bark downstairs.

“Speak of the devil,” You laughed. “I think he does need to be fed,” You checked the clock on her nightstand and saw it was Sammy's feeding time.

“You're right,” Chessy laughed, giving you a kiss on the forehead before standing up. “I will be right back, hon, and then I'll put the band-aids on now since the jelly will have settled.

You nodded at her, waving her off.

“Take your time, Chess,” You smiled.

Chessy quickly walked downstairs, and you could hear her playing with Sammy before the sound of his food bowl being filled with kibble filled your ears.

You laid in bed, waiting for the housekeeper’s return, nuzzling into her hoodie and engulfing your nose in her smell. Her hoodie smelled like fresh cinnamon and shampoo, matching the scent you had smelled when she had leaned in to kiss you on the forehead.

Her hoodie and sweatpants were warm, as if she had just gotten it out of the dryer, yet somehow it already smelled like her.

What Chessy knew that you didn't, however, was that she sprayed her perfume on the hoodie and sweatpants, secretly knowing just how much you adored her scent. I mean, she couldn't blame you, it was a nice perfume she wore, and when surrounded with literal horse shit all day, it wasn't hard to find a scent that you liked over that.

Chessy returned as you had your face buried in the hoodie, and she smiled as she closed the door.

“Aww…Sweetheart you look adorable…” The older woman cooed, kissing your forehead as she sat next to you on her bed.

She took your left arm, beginning to apply the bandages to your scratches.

You blushed at how warm and fuzzy the princess treatment you were receiving made you feel, and you laid your head on her shoulder.

“Your hoodie is so warm…” You smiled.

“I know hon, I took it out of the dryer just for you,” Chessy chuckled.

Of *course* she did. That's why you fell in love with her. She was the most considerate woman you had ever met, and she made you feel like a princess no matter how bad you were feeling that day.

“You're amazing, Chessy,” You laughed, looking at her as she finished with the first arm before moving to the next.

“Not as amazing as you, hon,” The older woman looked at you with the same pure adoration in her eyes she always showed to you every time she saw you.

When she finished with the other arm, you turned your body and cuddled into the older woman, your arms snaking around her waist as you clung to her.

“You're definitely more amazing than me,” You insisted, amused at the small banter you always ended up having on who was more amazing.

Chessy chuckled and took a bottle of water, putting it up to your lips, urging you to drink, which you did.

“Drink up sweetheart…” Chessy smiled, holding your chin up with her fingers as you drank it halfway.

When Chessy took the bottle away, she quickly replaced it with a granola bar she had opened, encouraging you to take small bites before placing the empty wrapper in the trash can before putting the other one next to the half-empty bottle of water.

“Why don't we watch some Clueless, huh? I want you to rest right here and I know that you like that movie,” The older woman suggested, scooping you up just a little and pulling you closer to her body.

“Really? You'd watch it with me?” You asked, smiling up at her with excited eyes, adjusting a bit as your body was still sore.

Chessy nodded.

“Of course, baby, hold on one second,” She picked up another instant ice pack and broke it in, placing two of them on separate sore spots of your body, a soft look in her eyes forming as she watched you relax from the ice packs soothing your pain.

“Thank you Chess…” You mumbled with a blush on your face.

“Anything for you, Y/N,” She hummed, putting on the movie and holding onto you gently.

You nuzzled into her chest as the intro to Clueless played in the background, but you were more focused on the woman holding you than the movie.

A few minutes passed and you thought about everything that had happened just in the span of two and a half hours. The accident sucked, definitely, but it resulted in you cuddling up with the woman you were so madly in love with, the same woman who you didn't know was madly in love with you too.

A sudden surge of confidence pulsed through your brain, and you pulled Chessy in for a sudden but short kiss on the lips.

“I love you, Chessy,” You blurted, sitting up a bit more now as you looked her dead in the eyes, waiting for her response.

Chessy looked at you in shock, and after a moment of silence she laughed softly.

‘Shit, I just messed it all up,’ You thought, your eyes widening in horror and pure embarrassment.

Before you could say anything however, your thoughts were very suddenly cut off by Chessy's lips on yours.

The kiss was much longer this time, and you broke away after what seemed like ages with your lips locked together.

“I love you too Y/N, since the first day I met you,” Chessy smiled, tears forming in her eyes.

You wiped her tears with her thumb.

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” You asked with a shaky smile, your own tears starting to form

“More than anything, my love,” Chessy kissed you once again, pulling you into her body and meshing your forms together like puzzle pieces that were always destined to fit with one another, where she held you for the rest of the night.

If you enjoyed reading this, don't forget to like, reblog and comment! Thank you and you are loved <3

-Akira

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

Head Over Heels - Goose

Pairing: Nick "Goose" Bradshaw / Fem!Reader (Nicknamed Honey)

Word Count: 1.5k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog is 18+ Only.

Warnings: Accidents; Referenced Bad Dates; Slight Self-Loathing; Female Reader with No Description, No "Y/N" or "You," Nicknamed "Honey"

Summary: Goose goes on a bad date and wants to give up. Maverick tells him that he just can't sit around and wait for the perfect girl to come around. Except fate has other plans.

Note: Set pre-Top Gun 1986. No Carole in this universe. She's off living her best life elsewhere. Bradley's not here (but maybe he'll come later? We'll see)

Master List

“I’m hopeless, Mav! Absolutely hopeless!” Goose complained, holding his face in his hands.

“You are not hopeless,” Maverick assured Goose, though his expression gave away his real opinion. “Just a little . . . rusty.”

The two were walking down the boardwalk after a disaster of a double date with two women that they met in town. And to say that it was a complete mess would have been generous. It all started with a spilled glass of water and ended with Maverick getting whacked in the face with a purse while defending Goose’s honor.

“Mav, let’s just face facts,” Goose sighed, turning to his pilot and best friend. “I’m hopeless, I have no idea how to impress women, and I’ll probably die alone because of it.”

“Goose, you’re overreacting,” Maverick cut in, clapping his best friend on his shoulder. “She just wasn’t the one. Anywhere near the one. But, hey, there’s got to be some girl out there who’ll be the perfect match to you. I can sense it.”

“But where the hell is she Mav?” Goose sighed, starting to walk along again.

“I don’t know, Goose, you’ve got to go out and look for her. The perfect girl isn’t just going to fall into your arms,” Maverick replied, shaking his head.

“Watch out!” a voice suddenly called out.

Goose turned just in time to see a woman on a pair of roller skates heading towards him. He had about a split second to react. Reaching out his arms as a reflex, Goose managed to catch her as she tripped on the uneven wooden paneling on the ground. Her momentum caused them to both dip towards the ground until they were rolling together.

Goose managed to stop their rolling and found himself staring down at the most beautiful woman that he had ever set his sights on. She stared up at him with wide eyes, panting a bit, and resting her hand on his firm chest. He didn’t know her name, but Honey just felt right. She looked sweet, just like honey, and he wouldn’t mind a—no, Goose, no, he scolded himself.

“Hi,” Goose breathed out, memorizing by the literal angel that crashed into him.

“Hi,” Honey returned, similarly dazed.

“Jesus Christ, are you two alright!?” Maverick yelled, startling the two of them back to reality.

“I’m so sorry!” Honey immediately yelped, trying to scramble up. “Are you hurt?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” Goose replied, getting up and keeping a hold on her hand to steady her. “Just a little dust. Nothing more.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, glancing over his form for any scratches.

“Yeah, it’ll take more than that to take me out,” Goose chuckled, holding her steady as she slipped a bit on her skates. “Are you alright?”

“Just a bit embarrassed,” she sighed, grabbing Goose a bit tighter. “This is what I get for trying to be someone that I’m not.”

And no sooner had she finished her sentence then Honey slipped towards the ground. Luckily, Goose had quick reflexes and managed to wrap his arms around her before she fell to the ground again. Of course, his maneuver ended up with her hanging in his arms like they were dancing partners and he was dipping her for some romantic move, which caused them both to grow even more flustered.

Maverick glanced between Goose and Honey with wide eyes. Glancing up at the sky and then down at his own hands for a moment, Maverick quietly wondered if he somehow summoned this woman to this exact spot.

“Why don’t we get you over to a bench?” Goose suggested with a chuckled, straightening her up again.

“That’s probably for the best,” she agreed, letting Goose help her over to a wooden bench.

Carefully setting her down on the bench, Goose kneeled down in front of Honey and started to untie the skates on her feet. Maverick hid a smirk behind his hand when he saw just how flustered and pleased Honey looked as Goose helped her with her skates.

Maybe he was wrong. Maybe Goose just needed to stand there and let fate do the work for him.

“There, now you’re safe,” Goose joked, setting the two skates beside her on the bench.

“Thank you,” she replied meekly, still highly embarrassed. “And I’m so sorry about running into you.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Goose assured her with a kind smile. “But, can I ask why you’re skating around the boardwalk if you . . .?”

“Can’t skate?” Honey offered with a laugh. “My friend somehow managed to rope me into it.”

“Where’s your friend then?” Goose asked her.

The call of her actual name caused Goose, Maverick, and Honey to turn around to see another woman quickly skating towards them. She was more than likely the friend who indirectly caused the whole interaction based on the way that Honey sheepishly waved to her.

“Penny, I told you that this was a bad idea,” Honey sighed, gesturing towards the skates. “I was this close to going into the water. And I accidentally tackled him along the way.”

“Better than most linebackers,” Maverick joked, smiling brighter as he turned to face Penny. Well, if Goose got a beautiful girl to pay attention to him, why should Maverick get the same opportunity? “I’m Pete, Pete Mitchell. But you can call me Maverick. And the sack of potatoes that your friend took down is my RIO Goose.”

“Goose?” Honey repeated, sounding confused.

“You two are naval aviators?” Penny asked curiously, glancing between Maverick and Goose with newfound interest.

“It’s a callsign,” Goose explained to Honey. “My real name is Nick. You can call me whatever you prefer. I answer to both.”

“Goose somehow seems to fit you more,” Honey mused, turning to Goose again with a bashful smile.

“I think so,” Goose agreed, his cheeks literally aching from how hard he was smiling.

“Are you two free the rest of tonight?” Penny asked, shooting a knowing smirk at her friend. “We were just going to grab some dessert down at the end of the boardwalk. If you two are interested.”

“Well, it would be completely rude and downright unchivalrous if we didn’t take them up on their offer. Wouldn’t it, Goose?”

“It would,” Goose quickly blurted out before he turned to Honey. “Unless, of course, you think it wouldn’t be.”

“No, no, you should come,” Honey agreed, grabbing his hand. “So that I can properly thank you for the mess that I created.”

“Well, I can’t say ‘no’ to that,” Goose stated with a wide smile.

“Great, it’s settled! Let’s go,” Penny urged, gesturing down the boardwalk.

“Penny, we should grab our real shoes first,” Honey insisted, standing up. “I can’t walk barefoot all the way down there. And the parking lot is just up there.”

“I can carry you,” Goose offered, causing Honey’s eyes to widen a bit.

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t let the chicken frame throw you off,” Maverick vouched on Goose’s behalf. “He’s stronger than he looks.”

“Thanks, Mav,” Goose hissed out, shooting his best friend a look.

“Great! Goose will carry you to the car and then we’ll all grab dessert together,” Penny stated, leaving no room for argument.

“You don’t have to carry me,” Honey assured Goose, but he simply smiled in return.

“No, no, I insist. Here, you can climb up onto my back,” Goose offered, turning around.

With some careful maneuvering, Honey clambered up onto Goose’s back and the new group of four headed up to Honey’s car. Goose and Honey fell into their own separate conversation from Penny and Maverick, who seemed to have instantly clicked. They reached Honey’s car in no time and with a quick shoe change, they were on their way down to the ice cream shop.

“So, what would you prefer me to call you?” Goose asked Honey, who smiled up at him.

“You can call me . . . tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? What kind of—oh,” Goose quickly caught on, causing Honey to giggle a bit. “Sorry, that wasn’t smooth at all.”

“I think it’s cute,” Honey replied, smiling at Goose bashfully.

“I think they’re so cute,” Penny whispered to Maverick, grabbing his arm lightly. “It’s been so long since she felt confident around a guy. She gets flustered so easily and they all make fun of her.”

“Goose isn’t like that at all. He’s a complete gentleman,” Maverick assured Penny, glancing back at Goose and Honey. “And between you and me, his confidence has been shot. The last couple of dates that he’s been on were disasters.”

“Who knows? Maybe they’re just what each other needs,” Penny mused before turning to Maverick. “So, tell me about yourself, Maverick.”

[shares-a-vest]

Part 1

"Oh my god!" Eddie exclaims, "The gas station is closed!"

"What?" Steve leans forward, squinting out through the front windshield.

"Can you not see that it is?" Eddie asks, his voice laced with sheer panic, "Jesus Christ, you need a pair of glasses," he reaches for the steering wheel, "Pull over. I'll drive."

"Get off!" Steve shrieks, elbowing him out of the way.

The car momentarily swerves to the centre line but thankfully, there are no cars about – the world's most obvious sign that the gas station is indeed, closed.

He purses his lips as he slows the car to a crawl as they move through the crossroad and past Ernie's, a cheap gas station that is the go-to place for scoring some booze without being carded and procuring condoms without judgment.

He has no idea why the gas station would be closed but, considering the universe hasn't exactly been on their side today, Steve checks his mirrors and turns the Beemer around, resigned to an afternoon of everything but sex.

"Wait!" Eddie says, slapping him on the shoulder, the chain of his leather jacket tinkling with each motion.

Steve looks over and they both nod at the same time.

"Melvad's."

– 🍌🍌🍌 –

"Steve," Eddie spits through gritted teeth.

"No."

"Stevie!"

"Dude, you go."

"Steve..." Eddie steps in front of him and raises his hand, balling up his fist with frustration – he even throws in a nose scrunch in an attempt to make his point, "After everything that has happened over the past six months, there is no way in hell I am walking up to that pharmacy counter and buying a box of condoms in full view of half of Hawkins' housewives."

Steve folds his arms, "And I'm not buying condoms right in front of Claudia Henderson!"

He glances at the woman browsing three aisles over, terrified she will soon feel her ears burning and look up from the overpriced tomatoes.

Eddie scoffs, "Oh please, everyone knows you saunter that tight ass all over town. Anyway, I'm sure she'll find it 'so responsible' you use protection."

He uses air quotations and rolls his eyes with such condescension that Steve can't help but reach forward to snatch at his boyfriend's ringless hand and squeeze.

"Come on," he says, tugging him back in the direction of the entrance – they need to get a move on before anyone sees them.

He's sure Dustin will be lurking somewhere, ready to pounce and ask questions and be a goddamn nightmare and do everything he possibly can to make their afternoon even worse.

– 🍌🍌🍌 –

"Forget it," Eddie sighs as he slams his car door shut.

Steve is about to chide him but Eddie's shoulders slump and he sucks back a sniffle.

"What's wrong?" he asks, already knowing the answer.

"Let's just..." Eddie begins, looking forlornly out at the street, "I dunno – go back to your castle and I'll suck you off, or some shit."

"Wow, such a romantic," Steve quips as he fires up the car, feeling a flush creep up his neck nonetheless.

Eddie remains silent, flitting between huffing and sighing as he peels out and heads down the street, ready to scour the town in search of a solution.

The sun is setting now. A warm afternoon perfect for ahem, fucking one's boyfriend for the first time gone – wasted!

"What if I just..." Steve begins, distracted by the large sign showcasing several stores one street over from Melvad's, "I could just ask someone to buy them for us?"

He blinks up at the green and orange Family Video sign and smiles.

"Jesus Christ," Eddie mutters, sinking in his seat.

– 🍌🍌🍌 –

"Absolutely not."

"But Rob!"

"This is why you called in sick today?"

Steve runs a hand through his hair. He knows it's no use lying, or avoiding eye contact with his best friend because Robin knows that he is finally going to do it with Eddie.

... It's just that he had failed to mention that they set a date that also ended up being a perfect summer's day.

He looks around the empty store – it's not like he is needed here, anyway.

"Why could you just – " she makes a scissors motion with her fingers, " – Cut the wrapper open?"

Steve's jaw drops.

"Oh..." he hums barely above a whisper, "I didn't... we..."

He can feel Eddie shrug next to him and murmur, "We didn't... think of that. I... I don't even think Steve owns... a pair of scissors... His... Y'know his desk is pretty... bare."

Steve slowly turns his head as Eddie rambles, catching him making some weird swish motion he supposes is supposed to represent his empty student desk.

But soon they make eye contact and –

Eddie moves first, turning on his heel at break-neck speed. Steve quickly follows, the two of them scrambling for the front glass door with such force that the bell sounds like it could knock straight off its hinges.

"Hey, at least you kiddos seemed to have paid attention in health class!"

Conclusion here

[penny-anna]

@snaitf recommended i check out this production of JSC on youtube so i gave it a watch & had a really good time!!

i found Judas a little underwhelming (sadly) but every else very on point. really great vocal performances. will probably listen to this one through again.

soo let's rank it:

How do they style Simon Zealotes?

costuming very minimal throughout so taking that into account yeah this is a good look ✔️

How camp do they play Herod?

ok uh. due to the above mentioned minimal costuming i wasn't expecting much from this but uh

the fuck?

this is where the entire costuming budget went huh dghfdkjghjk

anyway. she was a delight & the whole number was mesmerisingly weird & jarring in a way i've only seen before in the 2000 production. no notes 10/10 ✔️✔️✔️

How’s the high note?

ok this production as a whole has a very heavy emphasis on vocal performances BUT he actually acted the hell out of this number. big tick. ✔️

How do they stage Judas taking the money?

boo 👎i realise this is a very minimal production but they couldn't spring for 1 prop for this scene. c'mon. nothing wrong w the performances we just don't actually see him take the money!! ❌

How’s Judas’s Superstar outfit?

ok i don't actually love this as a look but in keeping w the rest of the production i think it's appropriate so i'll give that a ✔️

How gay is the betrayal with a kiss?

so at first i was like boooo bcos Jesus said the line but they didn't actually kiss??

but no turns out they'd just made the intriguing decision to switch the order on the line & the kiss. anyway this whole production is pretty firmly platonic (which is fine) but the kiss is very soft & tender so i'm giving it a pass ✔️

anyway some other things i enjoyed:

this is a tiny detail but one i don't recall seeing before, they had the line 'come on god, this is not like you' in the arrest scene delivered by Simon?? i love that actually.

Mary Magdalene is so so beautiful & has the voice of an angel im in love with her

Pilate played by a woman is a new one on me. im VERY into it. took me a little while to click w her bcos she started out playing it very villainous but by the end im like actually that was all pitch-perfect. loved it.

Mary fully scream-crying through the crucifixion was another choice i haven't seen before and honestly. harrowing to watch.

[eternal-love]

Austin and Me

“Taste”

“Wife to the ‘king’. Icon to the world. Destined for more.”

Summary: At 18 years old, she fell in love with Austin, at 20 years old, she became his wife, by 22, she was his doll. In which Cynthia’s life changed drastically after falling head over heels with a man that promised her the moon and the stars. She takes us down the memory lane of what could’ve been— the perfect marriage.

Inspired by the book: Elvis and Me by Priscilla Presley.

I do not condemn any of the portrayals I decide to do about certain people, it’s just fanfiction. And it would be divided in parts

English isn’t my first language so I’m trying my best!

MASTERLIST

I was pregnant. Goddamn it. Look, I was married and I knew this would happen, just not so fast. I know that Lori was four years old but it was still pretty fast for me.

However I grew to accept it, now I was less lonely during my pregnancy. I had Lori, I wasn’t mopping the floor like I did when I was pregnant with her. I hoped it would be a girl, I wanted to be able to reuse all the cute clothes Lori used. But if it was a boy, I wouldn’t mind him looking like Austin. I’ve seen pictures of Austin when he was a kid, a baby if you will— he was the cutest baby you could ever see.

But it pained me, I wanted to be able to resume my career but I guess I had to wait. I spent days reading scripts that came in.

I wanted more challenging roles. My dream role was to play into a medieval drama. Play a Queen or a Princess. That would totally be fun, it was something I desired to do for a long time. I have played mostly in horror movies. I was a scream queen. But I wanted something more.

“Mommy! Mommy!” Lori called me, bringing me out my thoughts.

“Yes?” I responded, pinching myself as I felt like daydreaming.

“Horsie!” Lori said excitedly as she held her little gloves.

“Sweetheart. I’m pregnant you know I cannot—“

“But I want to! Please?” Lori gave me her cute puppy eyes and I could not resist her.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

I hadn’t spoken about this before. Remember our house? Strawberry Fields, well. It was in Rodeo Drive, fair enough— the land was immense. We had a stable with our horses.

My horse was named Dolly and Lori’s was Cookie. It was a small horse, and it was Dolly’s child. Our bond went beyond that of mother and daughter. Even our horses were mother and daughter. Austin liked horses too, that’s why he had his own— Whiskey.

I loved riding horses. Most of my life I grew up on a ranch with my grandparents. I knew how to treat cattle and how to treat horses. But I loved horses too much. Unlike having our dog, I felt like the bond with my horses was much more stronger.

I knew I shouldn’t be on horseback but Lori wanted to. So I took Cookie from her box stall and placed Lori on top of the horse. Getting her firm on the saddle.

I walked around with them, gently holding onto Cookie. Lori reminded me so much of me when I was little. That innocence one had when you were oblivious to the world surrounding you. I remember being her age, not knowing the economic situation my parents were going through, or their marriage problems. I began to wonder, if it’s really worth it growing up. If it’s really just the physical changes or if also your whole soul changed.

Because I knew that if my younger self looked at me now, she’d think I was the coolest woman she’d ever seen. And just because— she didn’t have a sense of what suffering was.

Callum was in town, the man really thought Austin was oblivious to his once affair with Cynthia. Dumbass. He should’ve known. He accepted Austin’s offer to go to a bar.

Callum arrived with good face, smiling at Austin. They ordered their drinks. It was a cozy closed bar. Austin smiled at Callum as they both took sips of their drinks before he spoke.

“Listen, man. I know you’re sleeping with my wife.”

Callum almost spat out his entire swig, Jesus Christ above him would punish him once he time came.

“What? Mate, that’s a reach.” Callum laughed, sipping his drink awkwardly.

“You can’t fool me. You know? I was stupid back then before noticing it.” Austin could kill with the look he was giving Callum, really. “Did you enjoy screwing with what was mine? With— what gave me my beautiful daughter? I bet you loved the feeling of burying your pathetic dick onto her.”

“Listen. Okay. I did it, and as a matter of fact— I enjoyed every second of it. Sorry.” Callum said, putting his glass down, his finger gently tracing the edge of the cup.

They were both drinking the same goddamn drink.

“You know, she used to make me this drink every time we had sex. Uh— the sex was good.” Callum smirked. It took everything in Austin to not punch him, because they were in public.

“Watch it.”

“Why? It was good, you know if. You knocked her up once. You must absolutely know how tight she is.” It was like Callum enjoyed taking about it.

“I was here first. I took her first. You don’t get to come here and steal my wife just because you thought you could be fucking Robin Hood and help her out.”

“I couldn’t leave a wife out there feeling neglected. This is your fault, mate. You should’ve been there for her. I’m sorry she chose me as her company.” Callum smirked.

“She won’t choose you, you know? She’s too tied to me now that she won’t be able to even think about it. She’s pregnant again.”

Callum’s smirk faltered a bit but he kept his composure. Leaning in.

“Every time you kiss her, you will taste me too. You know? She gave me head many times. And every time you go down on her, you’ll taste me too. You can have her— I ain’t complaining about sharing.”

Austin clenched his fists before he slowly spoke, leaning in, whispering.

“You son of a bitch.” Austin slammed his fist on the table, catching the attention to himself but he was able to get it off him. “You son of a bitch.” Austin repeated before getting up.

“We can be a little threesome one day.” Callum said with a smirk.

Austin came back to the house an hour later, I didn’t notice him coming. Until I heard his voice.

“There you are!”

I turned around from petting Cookie. I sighed, I thought I had a little more freedom before he came back. I couldn’t bear to look at him. Shame consumed me. Sometimes I felt I was too dumb. Why was I ashamed when he never felt ashamed of doing the same to me.

“My favorite girls.” Austin said, smiling at us. Lori immediately got excited. She loved her daddy.

“She wanted to ride.” I said, patting Cookie once again.

“I want a ride too…” He said, squeezing my waist then his hand traveled to my ass.

I was surprised that he was— horny. Damnit, I should’ve known. Every time he was like that, it was because he had thought about or SEEN Callum.

Next thing you know, he made me passionate love all night. I didn’t remember him being this gentle or sweet. He told me that he did his homework and investigated about pregnancy sex I didn’t know that he was doing this because he wanted me to stop TASTING like Callum, as if he could erase what Callum had once done to me. His hands, his smell, his taste.

Afterwards, Austin cuddled up with me. Kissing my shoulder and neck softly.

“You do love me, right?” He muttered to me. “More than him.”

I stayed silent. Of course I loved him, but I was used to him rejecting my love at times.

“Do you love me?” He asked me once again, sitting up and looking at him.

“What a stupid question.” I responded and he stayed quiet.

Now he felt self-conscious of himself. Perhaps I cheated on him because Callum was fitter, taller, more charismatic, better than him

It was a cold answer.

But now he knew what it feels like.

UNI IS KILLING ME. I finished writing this at my English class.

Love y’all. 🫶❤️

I have another version of this but the character is different. But it has a MUCH MORE EXTENSIVE LORE.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Honey Bunny 💋

The Roger To Her Jessica

Warnings; Mentions of sex, Eddie is smitten, reader adores Eddie, 18+

There is someone for everyone and love can be found in unlikely places -Jessica Rabbit

If you enjoyed this, please consider giving this a reblog ❤️

I don't give anyone permission to copy my work.

❤️

True to her word she attended Corroded Coffins band practice and spent the entirety flirting up a storm with Eddie.

They rehearsed every Wednesday and Saturday and for the next few weeks she didn't miss any of them.

At school she sat at Hellfire, ignoring the jocks who tried to lead her away to ''a table more suited to her" and listened intently to what Eddie was saying.

Every once in a while her fingers would dance over his arm and he would halt what he was saying, skin flushing and they would share a loaded look.

God, she wanted this man. Thoughts of him coming undone thanks to her mouth and hands enter her mind unbidden.

Judging by the way Eddie looked at her the feeling of desire was very, very mutual.

Now here she was after weeks of flirting and she was ready to make a move.

"What did you think sweetheart?" he asks after the practice is over with and she beams.

"You could teach me a few things darling, that I'm sure of" she sidles up to him and his gaze darkens as she runs her hand up his arm.

"Eddie, be a doll and take me home would you?" he swallows and gazes at her fumbling with his guitar strap.

"You mean mine or yours?" she moves closer and plants a tiny kiss on his lips. His lips part and he kisses her back.

"Home, right" he agrees and ushers her into his van.

❤️

As they head inside his trailer the tension is palpable and she takes his hand leading him to his room.

He closes the door and his gaze rakes all over, she lets the dress she is wearing fall to the floor and his eyes almost pop as she is clad in her Scarlett red bra and panties.

"Jesus h Christ" he groans and closes the distance between him as he kisses her.

❤️❤️

"Fuck baby, I'm so fucking close" Eddie gasps out as she sits astride him and rides him relentlessly, their pleasure filled moans fill the room and her hands fist in Eddie's hair as he kisses every inch of her that he can reach.

The orgasm lasts for so long she almost blacks out from the pleasure and watches in wonder as Eddies head throws back and he comes spilling into her.

"Shit! that was fucking mindblowing" he says as he opens his eyes looking utterly blessed out.

"Oh handsome. I'm not finished with you yet" she smirks as his gives her a dreamy smile that soon turns serious and within seconds he flips her over and pins her beneath him.

"Not by a long shot" he agrees and she wraps her arms around his waist and laughs.

"Hope you aren't tired yet sweetheart" she teases him and kisses him again.

💕💕

From that day onwards hours were filled with sex, a lot of it... but also talking and laughter.

He was perfect but he also made her laugh so hard at his antics, he opened up to her about his mother and father.

How he didn't want to end up like his father, a deadbeat and in jail and she assured him he was nothing like his father.

"He sounds like an awful, awful man and you are so wonderful, kind, sweet and you help so many people with Hellfire darling"

His eyes are shining and she kisses him again and listens to him about his mother. He loved his mother but she left him when he was four to get away from his dad.

The pain in his voice makes her hug him even tighter.

She tells him how much she hated the fact that people judged her for how she looked, they assumed she would behaved a certain way.

"I'm not bad but I look this way and people assume wrongly about me. You don’t know how hard it is being a woman looking the way I do."

He strokes her hair and listens intently.

"You're amazing sweetheart. If people judge you that's on then. They are losing out on knowing an amazing woman" she smiles and cuddles into him.

He looks at her in wonder, utter reverence in his eyes.

"I can't believe you're mine," he tells her awed and she giggles.

"Eddie darling, I feel so lucky you're mine"

❤️❤️

It was movie night and her and Eddie were browsing the video selection" it was her turn to pick a movie and she had settled on a classic. Rear Window.

Eddie was talking animatedly with Dustin and she watches him feeling a glow in her chest. She was rapidly falling in love with him and she knew he felt the same.

He made it very obvious and she adored how sweet he was with her.

Steve frowns as he looks at her when she heads up to the desk. "What the hell do you see in Eddie the freak Munson, like seriously what the hell do you see in this guy?" he sounds so baffled and she throws him a contemptuous look.

"He is an amazing man Steve, so handsome and just a darling of a man, you don't know him like I do but most of all... He makes me laugh"

Steve stares at her stunned and she heads back to Eddie.

"You ready honey?" she asks him and he nods ruffling Dustin's hair and takes her hand leading her outside and telling her all about his campaign.

When he sees her watching him with a big smile on her face he pulls her into his arms.

"I love you sweetheart" giddiness erupts inside her and she presses a kiss to his cheek her ruby red lipstick leaving an imprint on his cheek just like it did when they first met.

"I love you, Eddie, now take me home darling"

💋

[basilone]

A dose of Darlene to combat the winter blues, a dose of Benny/Darlene because softness is what I got right now, and a dose of Lottie being Lottie because that's how this gets kickstarted at all. I don't think any warnings really apply, beyond some innuendo, but I hope this is something that heals.

to be moved

Lottie loves out loud. Her affection drapes arms over shoulders, rests lips against cheeks and hair and brow, and holds hands no matter the occasion. She flirts without meaning to one minute and flirts with full intent the next, somehow managing to make neither version sound too serious. If you fall for the idea of it being serious anyway – and people often do, hook-like-sinker for that cocky smile and can-do attitude – she’ll let you down as easy as she can, which is to say that she’ll enforce a no with her fist if she has to and adopts a disappointed I thought we was havin’ fun tone if you can’t help but cry about it some.

She doesn’t often apologize. Darlene thinks it’s one of those things Lot just hasn’t been taught, same way she had to be told how to wash her clothes to keep ’em from shrinking. Same way she had to be told how much value really is in a dollar – you can only spend it one time, Lot, goddamn – because she was out here buying presents with cash that would’ve gotten them groceries for three months. That had taken a few solid weeks, looking back, and Darlene doesn’t doubt it’d take even more weeks for Lot to learn how to say sorry proper. Not that kinda glib sorry ’bout the mess she’s perfected – something that flies all right with her fellow pilots – but the kind of sorry that comes outta her toes and tells you she won’t do it again.

That poor ol’ sucker, she almost says out loud, eyeing Lottie’s easy smile at one of the English fellas. They’re on second drink only because Lot palmed her ginger ale off to Major Cleven and managed to make it look like an accident, which is already more than she woulda gotten away with back home. It’s like England’s not really prepared for the eventuality of a Lottie, who descends upon pubs with the air of a tropical storm battering against politely-offered umbrellas. Jesus Christ, Darlene wants to hiss, recognizing that casual flip of hair well enough, he’s already down, will ya stop kickin’ his teeth out?

She shakes her head. It’s one of those nights when she’s not my sweet girl for Lot, tucked away under the woman’s arm and cheek burning with all of Lottie’s kisses. It’s one of those nights she lost Lot’s hand the second the door swung open – it’s for the best, it’s okay, it’s what happens when you’re both girls and can’t sell the we’re just friends very well – and Darlene’s not sorry for it the longer she looks at what’s going on. Lot’s back is pressed against Major Cleven’s side, which Darlene’s sure she’s managed to excuse away as being stuck in a crowded space. Lot’s foot is on the other fella’s chair and her necklace glints up in the light, peeking out from underneath undone shirt buttons. Her smile’s unwavering, as is that little tilt to her head, and Darlene’s seen this work one too many times to not know how the rest of the night’s gonna go.

I don’t like the look o’ him, she’d still say, if she were close enough to Lot’s ear to be heard. He’ll be like that fella we brought home time before last – that one had wanted a picture of them kissing each other, as if that’s the kinda thing to stuff into one’s pocket – and ya know how much of a letdown that was. Darlene supposes maybe it’s different when she lets Lot go alone this time, though this fella don’t look like he knows the first thing about how to make Lot’s legs tremble at all. And Lot ain’t tricky about getting to that stage – though she says she is, but Darlene thinks that’s a special kind of balderdash she just says to make Darlene feel good about getting her there every time – but she’s gonna be catapulting off the walls of her bedroom in the mornin’ if she ain’t gonna get her fill tonight all the same.

Darlene’s just going to clean it all up when that happens. Won’t need to show the English fella to the door, because Lot’ll have gotten rid o’ him just fine after seven minutes of fumbled trying. Won’t need to hold Lot’s hair while she pukes, because she just pawned off her next glass of liquor to a passing Curt Biddick and knocked her water back instead. Will need to tut at Lot about poor choices, sure, and will need to kiss her until Lot sighs and says she’s really done trying this time. Will need to grin and tease and bear it a little longer until Lot forgets her jagged edges long enough to become soft and pliant and needy in a way Darlene understands better than she gets this broken funhouse mirror image Lot keeps trying to pull up. Will need to poke at this wound until it smarts worse than it does now, because she’s just never going to be enough for Lot but there are still moments when she undoubtedly is Lot’s entire universe.

“Hey,” she hears, then, and it sounds like this hey is just meant for her because of how soft-voiced it is, “mind if I sit?”

Darlene makes the mistake of glancing up. Is met with the full force of Bernard DeMarco’s tentative smile directed solely at her. His dark eyes are crinkled up in a way that makes his gaze look even friendlier. It’s warm in this corner of the pub – heat flushes her cheeks now that she feels it unfurl in her chest – and yet he looks unbothered by it enough. It probably helps that he’s not in a bulky flight jacket the way half these fellas still are, but in that leather one she’s always liked the look of far better.

“Uhh,” she says, which isn’t the smartest way to start a conversation. Blinks at him in an effort to gather her thoughts, which seem to have wandered off at the sight of his slightly undone collar. “S-Sure,” she nods, then, patting the empty chair beside her, “yours if ya want it.”

She doesn’t fully know why he wants that. Most of his crew’s keeping entertained near the game o’ darts – ain’t that where she saw him last, too? – and the rest of the folks they know are mostly stuck in that crowd around Major Cleven and Lottie. She’s already said bye to George, who begged off with a headache after first round, and the rest of the girls she came in with are either fanned out across the pub or gone back to base. It’s just her in this corner now, and she’s not really the kind of easy company a pilot like him might want.

“Thanks,” he says, and she flushes a little crimson when he settles down beside her with a sigh that sounds like it came deep outta his belly. “Had to get out of that game before Dickie and Curt took me to the cleaners”– he nods at the darts, where Biddick’s crowing victory –“and Buck’s not great company right now.”

“Major Cleven looks all right ta me?” she questions, glancing over at the man just to be sure. He certainly don’t look different – hand curled around his glass, toothpick between his lips – but she doesn’t really know him all too well. “I trust your judgment, though,” she amends, turning her attention back to the man who’d requested she call him Benny. “If ya say he ain’t, then he ain’t. You fly with him, not me.”

“He’s not all right while Ace keeps flirting with the guy he is most annoyed with,” snorts Benny, and it takes all of five seconds for Darlene to realize he means Lottie and the English fella with that comment. He glances to the side a moment before looking back at her. “I could almost swear she does it on purpose just because Buck doesn’t like him.”

“Yeah, that’s her all right,” agrees Darlene, because it does sound like a Lottie sort of thing to do to her new commanding officer. “And she knows all them English fellas because they been working with our fighter squads more than with y’all,” she elaborates, “so she don’t really think twice about flirting with them any. They know she used to fly them fighters before she went and got herself reassigned, so…” She shrugs. Smiles at Benny. “It’s just some itch that needs scratchin’, for her, and ya can tell the Major that if ya like.”

He makes no move to vacate his seat. If anything, he sinks a little deeper into it – his knee knocking against hers, his jacket brushing her arm – and seems to settle down beside her. He makes a little harrumphing sort of noise in the back of his throat, as though the suggestion of telling Major Cleven that little tidbit about Lot is one he’s wholly discarding for reasons unknown to her.

“Don’t you think this place is a little… weird?”

Darlene blinks at the question, which he managed to make sound earnest somehow. “What d’ya mean, sir?”

“Please,” he says, brow furrowed, barely containing his wince, “I’m just Benny. Not a sir.”

“All right then, just Benny,” she laughs, tucking her leg under her knee and getting comfortable in her own seat, “why do you think this place is weird?”

“Dunno.” He shrugs in a way that tells her he might yet know, but isn’t sure on how to say it. “It’s such a… Back home there’d be more dancing. And singing.” He lights one of his smokes. Offers her one, which she declines with a smile. “There’d be some games, sure,” he admits, “but all these tables… My cousins would make quick work of these, putting them up on the side and the chairs on top of that. Clear some space.”

“Space for dancin’?”

“Yes ma’am,” he grins, already gesturing at which tables they’d clear, already conjuring a hazy vision of it for her mind’s eye. Traces of smoke linger in the air, almost forming dancing shapes of their own where his fingertips were before. “The proper kind, too.”

Darlene can’t help but rest her chin atop her hand at that. “Now what in the world d’ya know about proper kind o’ dancin’, Bernard DeMarco?” she asks, smiling at him like she can definitely keep that secret if he decides to share. “And don’t you ma’am me now, ya hear? I won’t have that when ya got me callin’ ya Benny.”

He raises his hands in clear surrender. “Can’t tell you what I know,” he says, even though he’s leaning forward like he wants to share. “Would need to show you, and this place is not ready for that.” His grin’s as quick as his wink. “It’d be as proper as we make it, Darlene.”

Darlene. He remembers her name without being prompted to. Doesn’t try to make it sound like Arlene or Charlene the way folks do back home when they can’t quite recall the name her mama gave her. He says it the way it ought to be, except somehow he makes her name sound soft and wanting and…

“I ain’t that proper,” she warns him, grinning back now that she’s made a decision. “But there ain’t a reason why ya can’t show me, either. We got outside, don’t we?” She nods at the door. “Ain’t anybody in here that’ll miss us, not with your fellas caught up in their game and Lot caught up in her stupid flirting.”

And it is stupid, now that she really thinks about it some. It’s something so perfectly Lottie, sure enough, because a girl who’s rich enough to make bad decisions with her money sure ain’t gonna fare better making decisions about her life any. She knows all the reasons why Lot goes and plays that kinda game over and over again, but Darlene’s told her time and again that it don’t mean she’s gotta play it with Lot any. It’s certainly not something worth sticking around and ruining her own night for.

“C’mon, Ben,” she coaxes, rising to her feet and offering her hand to him. “Let’s make this place less weird.”

She doesn’t look back once his hand wraps around hers. Does give herself a little shake – that was not a jolt of electricity, no sir – when he holds on to it for longer than she’d thought he would. When his fingers actually tangle with hers, squeezing down just a little, and he guides her to the door as though she’s his actual date for the night. If you was Orpheus, she suddenly thinks, I would be doomed to the underworld because you’d glance at me every time, you’d not walk all that damn way without wanting to see me following you there.

Darlene doesn’t mention that, though the thought makes her draw even closer to him once they pass through the door. She’s always loved the story – of course you’d look back to see your beloved, of course you’d want to – and thinking of that makes her think of how tonight would look to an artist. She’d paint herself in shadows, even her red hair barely catching glints of the light. She’d paint him in warmth – the pub had made him look tanned and full of sunshine – just to translate the feeling she gets from his hand tangled with hers. She’d draw them separate first, then winding together in a flurry not unlike the one she’s battling on the inside now.

He releases her hand just to turn around and bow to her, which is the most ridiculous thing of all.

“Ben–”

“Darling Darlene,” he interrupts, smiling at her like he already knows all the next steps, “will you please do me the honor”– and he makes it sound so sincere, so believable, that she stands and simply gawks at him –“of giving me your hand so I can lead you in our dance?”

He calls me darlin’. Means it, too, because he ain’t the type to say something he don’t mean. “I dunno about honor,” she hedges, fingertips already brushing his knuckles, “but I’d love to dance with ya, beautiful Benny.”

His laugh is instantaneous. Warmer than any paint or pencil of hers could ever hope to catch. “Beautiful, huh?”

“Gotta say it one time,” she admits, “in the hopes that you don’t get too big for that plane o’ yours hearing summat like that.” She grins when he ducks his head. “Seems I just got you shy instead, huh,” she teases, though his hand fastens around hers and his arm wraps around her waist in a clear negation of such a statement. “I did ask George who that handsome fella with the dog was when y’all landed, ya know”– and she’s done pretending she never did, done holding back on that –“so it ain’t like I changed my mind between now and then.”

“God, you just…” He laughs again, warm and full and buzzy against her ear. There’s a gentle sway to his steps that she follows without thinking, leading her further away from the pub’s door. “You’re making things hard, Darlene, you know that?”

“I’ve been told I do,” she grins, unapologetic, and lets out a giggle when he casts his eyes to heaven. “Come on now, ya knew I was gon’ say that. There’s a reason why folks at home call me tacky and shameless.”

His hand tightens around her waist. “Folks at home are wrong about you.” He says it with such quiet conviction that it almost makes her grow too still, too incapable of following his next motions. “And jokes that are also true aside,” he murmurs, “what I meant was that you’re making it hard for me not to fall in love with you.”

“You…”

“Sorry,” he says, guiding her into a spin that takes her out of his arms. “I wasn’t gonna say that part.”

“But ya did,” she says, ignoring his outstretched hand and making up a few swaying steps of her own. If she thinks about anything other than the next move, she knows there’s not gonna be anything left to hold back. “So now we’re dancin’ with that, too.”

“We don’t have to, it’s just some… something I feel. It doesn’t have to…” His hands find her waist. A small curl’s escaped his perfectly coiffed hair. “It doesn’t have to matter.”

She reaches up for that curl before she can stop herself. Brushes it back, then rests her hand against his cheek. She doesn’t think anyone’s claimed to be in love with her before. Lot’s come closest – love ya, Dar – but even that didn’t quite feel like… Didn’t feel like Benny. Didn’t feel as earnest, as honest, as open.

It does matter.

So she kisses him. Winds her arms around his neck and pulls him so close that they simply fit without trying. Meets his mouth with hers because that’s what she’s been wanting to figure out for the better part of a few weeks now. Lets him muffle a sound of surprise in her kiss, lets him press back and squeeze her to him so tight, lets his hand tangle in her curls that have already escaped their past confinement. They’re still swaying to music unheard – to Orpheus’ lyre, or their own hearts – and he makes no effort to spin her out of his arms again.

He winds her closer to him, kissing back, kissing her like she thinks people kiss in those love stories that were never hers. Kissing her with so much care that she definitely falters in their dance. He catches her missed steps with a smile against her lips, a stray touch of lips against her cheek, a murmured I got you that feels safer to her than any plane’s landing.

Darlene doesn’t love out loud. Doesn’t think she knows how, not yet, not in this way she’s feeling right now, in that way that’s entirely too big for her. Thinks she’ll learn, sometime, when she follows his steps right, and memorizes him as he is now. Silhouetted against the horizon, with a smile just for her, holding her like she is something dear.

She thinks she’ll paint him in warmest colors, like the setting sun.