#then my mom came in and told me to take a break from the game

[puckinghischier]

Falling

Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary: reader gets hurt and nico is worried about her

notes: y’all i ain’t gonna lie, i went through a bit of a rollercoaster while writing this. i loved it at first, then halfway through started hating it, then somehow started loving it again towards the end. so if it seems a little all over place i’m sorry. also i know very little about how a dislocated shoulder works, so just pretended i didn’t if i got anything wrong. i hope y’all enjoy it!! happy reading!! 🫶🏼

request: from my 400 follower celly - “A hears that B got hurt and rushes over in a panic to see if they are okay” where reader maybe gets in an accident or gets hurt in their sport (nothing major). Bonus points if you add “I can braid your hair for you- I mean, only if you want.”

[4.5k]

part 2

“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine. Nothing’s broken, just a nasty dislocation,” you attempt to calm your mother’s nerves, trying to unlock your apartment door with your good arm while balancing your phone between your cheek and shoulder. “They reset it for me and told me to follow up with my primary care on Monday. Gave me some pain meds and sent me on my way.”

“Well, what about until then? What if you need help? What about work? How will you drive?” she rapid fires questions at you.

“I’ll figure it out, don’t worry. Since it was a work-related injury, I’ll still get paid. And they’re paying all of the medical bills, so that’s all taken care of,” you make your way into your apartment, shutting the door with your foot behind you. “Everything else I’ll handle as it comes.”

She doesn’t seem satisfied with your answer, tsking into her phone, making you picture her trademark displeased headshake.

“What about Nico? Why don’t you stay with him until you’re back to 100%? I’m sure he’d be willing to help out,” she suggests, her tone switching from worried to suggestive.

You roll your eyes, knowing exactly where this conversation is headed.

“Mom, how many times do I have to tell you, Nico and I are just friends. We work together. Just because you think you saw him look at me a certain way when you were visiting doesn’t mean I have to call him every time something goes wrong,” you tell her, placing your bag on your kitchen table.

Ever since your mom came in a few months ago to visit, she’s been on your case about making a move on Nico, it all starting when she witnessed Nico helping you across the ice during a pre-game practice while trying to get some action shots.

You work as a photographer for the Devils, not realizing that being able to ice skate would have been a nice addition to your resume.

Your college advisor arranged the interview for you right before graduation. You had no previous knowledge of hockey, having come from a football family. You told your advisor this, but she insisted you didn’t have to know anything about a sport to be able to take good pictures of it.

During the interview, you made sure to inform your now boss that you didn’t know how to skate, hoping it wouldn’t be a problem. He assured you that you could take pictures from the stands or the players bench, the chance of you having to step onto the ice slim.

For the first few months of your job, it was smooth sailing. You were mostly taking pictures from the camera holes in the glass or being told to cover locker room and arrival pictures. You worked with one other photographer, a seasoned sports photography veteran named Phil. Phil was a New Jersey native, having grown up skating, so he took over the duties of any major action shots the director wanted from on the ice.

Unfortunately for you, Phil’s wife had convinced him to retire early, losing his help right before the league’s short Christmas break.

Seeing as they had just hired you, and it was the middle of the season, the hunt for a replacement for Phil was put on the backburner, more important team matters taking precedence.

You were forced to take over Phil’s duties, meaning you were now responsible for any on the ice shots. You had found a way to slowly scoot across the perimeter of the rink, staying out of the way while also getting the shots you needed.

Your system was working well until the morning of a gameday, having gotten permission from your boss to bring your mother along to this particular practice, wanting to show her all aspects of your job.

For this particular game, the players were especially focused on practicing their skills and running drills during morning skate. You were doing your typical shuffle while clutching the edge of the waist-high wall when someone came zooming past you, causing your feet to start sliding uncontrollably, not being able to find your footing on the slick ice.

You felt the moment you were about to fall, waiting for the impact of your butt on the cold ice, but it never came. You felt yourself fall into a body covered by plastic pads, gloved hands shooting out to grab your upper arms.

You looked up, seeing Nico smiling down at you in amusement.

“It’s a bit slippery out here, huh?” he jokes, making sure you’re standing steady on your feet before letting go of you.

“Well, we are standing on ice, so….” You trail off, grabbing onto the wooden ledge again, preventing another near fall.

Nico laughs, looking down and shuffling his skates back and forth.

“Well would you look at that? We are on ice ” He flashes a smile, looking back up at you.

You stick your tongue out at him, earning another chuckle from the team’s Captain.

“You know, most people use these great things called ice skates when they try to walk on ice,” he tells you, lifting one skate up for emphasis.

Rolling your eyes, you scoff out a “Oh wow, why didn’t I ever think of that?”

“Just some food for thought,” Nico shrugged as he placed his foot back down on the ice, skating in a little circle, as if to say “See, told you so.”

You let go of the ledge to cross your arms, forgetting that you needed the stability. When you try to shift your weight from one leg to the other, you lose your footing again, this time falling forward into Nico. You let the camera in your hands fall, grabbing onto his biceps to stay upright, thankful for the camera strap around your neck.

His hands shoot out to grab your forearms.

“You know the sad thing is, even with the skates, I’d still be as clumsy, considering I have absolutely no idea how to use them,” you tell him, the two of you still holding on to one another.

Nico shakes his head at you, placing one of your hands on his forearm, moving you from in front of him to beside of him.

He starts slowly skating towards the bench while you shuffle your feet along, putting all of your focus on keeping yourself upright until you reach your destination.

When you finally reach the bench, you step off of the ice and let out a breath of relief.

“Thanks, Cap. Would’ve hated to make a fool of myself out there while my mom’s watching,” you thank him, looking over to where your mom sits, a smile on her face.

Nico follows your gaze and waves to your mom, matching her smile.

“Well, we wouldn’t want that now, would we? What if she found out her daughter was a skating fraud?” he teases, leaning in to whisper the last two words.

“It’s her fault for never taking me to the rink my town would throw up once a year at Christmas. Who knows, maybe I would’ve been a skating prodigy if given the chance,” you shrug.

A mischievous smile makes its way onto his face. “I think we should put that theory to the test,” he tells you, causing your eyes to latch onto his.

“Come again?” You raise your eyebrows and tilt your chin down.

“I mean, I can’t have some photographer out on my ice during practices that can’t even stand up,” he keeps his tone light, making sure you know he’s just teasing, “So, I’m going to teach you how to skate, and see if you really would have been a skating prodigy.”

He skates off, winking before resuming his practice.

You don’t have a chance to speak to him again until after the game, when you get at text from an unknown number reading “Rink, tomorrow, 2pm. I’ll bring skates, just bring your prodigy skills.”

After that, you meet with Nico twice a week for skating lessons.

The two of you quickly form a friendship, Nico bringing you coffee on gamedays and you slipping him snacks on the bench during games. You even started inviting him over for dinner after your lessons, insisting the least you can do is feed him to repay him for preventing you from making a fool of yourself on the ice.

Today, however, you did make a fool of yourself on the ice.

You were standing behind the net, telling the players to skate towards you so you could get some shots for the team’s Instagram account by request of the social media manager.

Once you were pleased with the amount of shots you had gotten, you left your spot from behind the net, skating slowly towards the benches, still a little wobbly on your skates.

You were looking down at your camera, thinking of how you’ll have to get Nico out here after the game to get some shots, knowing he’s currently doing pre-game interviews in the locker room.

You weren’t paying the slightest bit of attention to the pucks littering the ice in front of you, skating right into one and losing your balance, holding your camera up with one arm while trying to catch yourself with the other.

You felt the way your shoulder shifted, crying out in pain as players turned and started rushing towards you on the ice.

The team doctor came out and told you he was pretty sure your shoulder was simply dislocated, but sent you to the hospital to make sure nothing’s broken.

The ER doctor confirmed your diagnosis, putting your shoulder back into place before pumping you full of pain meds and placing your arm into a sling.

Which leads you to where you are now, back at your apartment, explaining to your mother why Nico can’t be at your beck and call.

“Honey, when are you going to realize that boy is in love with you? I’m telling you, the way I saw him look at you that day I came to visit, the skating lessons and dinners,” she starts, giving you her typical speech when you tell her Nico is just a friend.

“Mom, it doesn’t matter what you think you saw, we’re seriously just friends. And he’s busy, his schedule is too hectic to spend his time babysitting me,” you interrupt her, not wanting to hear her Nico speech for the thousandth time, regretting ever telling her about the skating lessons.

She sighs into the phone.

“I’m just trying to help you, you know…” you hear your mother start, but you tune the rest of her words out, focusing on the three loud knocks on your front door.

Your head turns to your door, the unexpected noise causing you to jump, the sudden motion tipping your bag over, the contents spilling all of your kitchen floor.

“Honey, are you alright? What was that?” your mom halts her one-sided conversation, worry in her tone.

“Shit!” you exclaim, watching the container of memory cards fly open, the small squares sliding across the linoleum floor.

You forget about the sling on your arm, crouching down and trying to reach for the cards with your bad arm, a searing pain shooting through your shoulder at the movement.

Letting out a loud yelp, you bring your arm back to its resting positing in the sling.

“Y/N, what’s going on? Did you hurt yourself?” you barely hear your mother’s voice through the phone speaker, not being able to think about anything other than the throbbing pain in your shoulder.

You hear three more pounds on your front door, this time a voice following the knocks.

“Y/N! Open up!”

You groan, trying to stand up, too many people trying to get your attention at the moment.

“Honey, talk to me. Is someone in there with you? I heard another voice,” your mother asks you as you stand, making your way over towards your front door.

“Someone’s knocking on the door,” you grit through your teeth, trying to think about anything but the pain in your shoulder. “I dropped my bag and tried to pick something up with my bad arm. I’m fine. Just hurts,” you tell her, opening your door to see a frantic Nico standing there.

His wide eyes scan your body, stopping once they see the sling on your arm.

You notice his wet hair and lack of socks on his tennis shoe covered feet.

“Are you okay? They told me you had to be taken to the hospital before the game started, but no one knew what really happened,” he rushed out, looking up at your face.

“Hey, Mom, gotta go, Nico’s at my door,” you tell her, a little stunned that the object of your conversation just appeared, hanging up the phone before she could make any comments about it.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” you ask him, pointing towards his feet, an amused smile on your face. The shock of seeing him at your door making you completely forget about the pain in your shoulder.

Nico looks down at his own feet, looking back up at you with red cheeks.

“Oh, uh, I couldn’t find my socks after the game and i couldn’t get you to answer your phone, so I rushed over to the hospital to see if you were still there, and they told me you left about an hour ago, so I hopped in my car and came over here to make sure you were okay,” he tells you, not meeting your eye.

You’re shocked at his confession, not expecting him to be so concerned about your impromptu trip to the hospital.

“Well, I’m here and still standing,” you awkwardly stand in your doorway, not knowing what else to say, thinking about how if you weren’t arguing with your mom over Nico on the phone, you might have gotten his calls.

“Yeah, I see that now,” he shoves his hands in the pocket of his hoodie.

The two of you stand there, not really knowing what to say to one another.

“Do you want to come in?” you ask him, moving out of the doorway to let him step into your apartment.

Nico shakes his head yes and walks past you, looking towards the mess on the floor in your kitchen.

“What happened here? Is this the crash I heard?” he asks you.

“Yeah, the bag fell and spilled everything. When I went to pick it up, I forgot and used my bad shoulder,” you gesture to your slinged arm.

Nico shakes his head at you, crouching down to pick up the camera disks all over the floor.

“Oh, no, you don’t have to-“

“Well you’re sure as hell not trying to pick them up again,” Nico interrupts you, standing and placing the now full box of disks on your table.

You roll your eyes at him, walking over towards your fridge.

“So, what exactly happened? Jack told me you hurt your shoulder?” he follows you over to your fridge, watching you scan its contents, or lack thereof.

“Well, I was looking at my camera and skated right into a bunch of pucks on the floor, then was too focused on saving the equipment instead of remembering how to fall properly,” you told him, remembering his words during your first skate lesson, telling you not to catch yourself if you fall on the ice.

“See, I told you to just let yourself fall. Never try to catch yourself,” he echoes his words in your thoughts.

“Yeah, well, it’s a lot easier said than done,” you deadpan, shutting your fridge door and looking at Nico.

Your stomach growls at that exact moment, making you groan at your lack of food in your fridge, not having eaten since before your accident.

“When was the last time you ate anything?” Nico asks you, looking down at your growling stomach.

“Uhhh, breakfast?” you recall.

Nico’s eyes widen. “It’s almost midnight. Did they really not feed you at the hospital?” he asks you.

“Considering they were busy doing x-rays and scans to make sure nothing was broken or torn, no,” you walk over to your cabinets, finding them also bare.

“Alright, go sit down and I’ll order us something to eat,” Nico shoos you out of the kitchen, walking over and opening the drawer where you keep all of your takeout menus.

You wonder how he knows where your menus are, forgetting for a moment that he’s over at your apartment at least twice a week after your skating lessons. Sometimes more, the occasional movie night making its way into your weekly routine.

“What do you want? Sushi? Chinese? Burgers?” he questions, flipping through your menus.

For some reason, your brain chooses this moment to register how much you enjoy the sight of Nico in your kitchen, looking through your takeout menus and offering to order you dinner.

You think back to all the times he’s helped you make dinner, laughter filling every moment of your time together. You think about how he always wear his pjs when he comes over for a movie night, bringing a different chocolate candy to put in the popcorn each time. You think about how he somehow learned your coffee order without you ever telling him, bringing you a coffee every morning, even at away games.

You think about your mother’s words, and how you didn’t even have to ask Nico to come over tonight, or to give you skating lessons. You think about how you never have to ask Nico to do anything he does for you – which is a lot, you’re realizing – he just does it. He does it because he wants to, because he’s kind and caring and wants to spend time with you.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N, what do you want for dinner?” Nico snaps you out of your sudden revelation.

“Sorry, spaced out for a second. Must be the pain meds,” you tell him, knowing that your mind isn’t the least bit impaired right now.

“Okay, go sit down, we need to get some food in you then,” he fishes his phone out of his pocket, mumbling out “Can’t believe they pumped you full of meds on an empty stomach.”

You make your way to your couch, sitting down and taking your shoes off, making yourself as comfortable as you can.

You remove a stray piece of hair that fell onto your face, knowing how awful it must look.

When you fell on the ice, the claw clip that was holding your hair in its up-do broke, causing it to fan out over the cold, wet ice. Once you got to the hospital, you were put in and out of so many different machines, you can only imagine the tangled, matted mess it is.

You get up and go to your bathroom, finding your brush and trying to comb it out. The task proving to be difficult with only one hand. The tangles keep pulling your head back and hurting your tender scalp, but you keep trying, whimpering each time the brush gets stuck on a particularly bad tangle.

You don’t even hear Nico approach your bathroom, just a sigh and “I told you to sit down,” before the brush is taken from your hand and you see Nico’s reflection behind you in the mirror.

Without another word, he proceeds to brush your hair for you, ensuring every tangle is gone before setting the brush on your sink.

The two of you make eye contact in the mirror, neither one wanting to break the silence during the surprisingly intimate moment.

You clear your throat, looking down after the silence got too intense, causing Nico to avert his eyes as well.

“I really wish i could wash my hair, but i know that’s a no go tonight,” you chuckle, wishing your bathroom was a little bit bigger in this moment.

“I can braid your hair for you,” Nico starts, staring at you in the mirror, watching your eyes snap up to meet his. “I mean, only if you want,” he stutters out.

“Really?” you ask him, a little stunned.

“Yeah. I used to help Nina with hers all the time when I was younger,” Nico mentions his older sister, grabbing your hair lightly and starting to section it off. “Anytime she would have a sleep over I would always weasel my way into the party. So one day, she made me sit in a braiding chain and learn how to braid her hair.”

You let out a giggle, picturing a smaller version of Nico sitting at the end of a line of girls, braiding their long hair.

“Then, Nina claimed I got so good at it she always wanted me to braid her hair before her volleyball matches, then her friends all started wanting me to do theirs, too,” he continues talking, nearly lulling you to sleep with the soft movements of his hands as you listen to him speak.

“I think that’s adorable,” you quietly speak, closing your eyes.

“What can I say? When a pretty girl needs her hair braided, who am I to keep my skills to myself?” he jokes, making you wonder if he meant you or his sister’s friends.

“I’m sure it’s any little boy’s dream to have an entire volleyball team at his mercy, all those pretty volleyball players begging him to play with their hair,” you tease him, handing him the hair tie that you always keep on your wrist.

“I don’t know, I think playing with a pretty photographer’s hair is better, if you ask me,” he ties the hair tie around the bottom of the braid, reaching up to pull the braid loose, making sure it’s not too tight.

You keep your eyes closed, knowing he can likely see the redness on your cheeks at his words.

“Alright, eyes open. Need to make sure you like my work,” he places his hands on your biceps, making sure to keep his touch feather light on your bad arm.

He turns you around so you’re facing him, holding a handheld mirror that was laying on your sink in front of your face, allowing you to see the reflection of the braid.

You’re shocked to see the flawless Dutch braid that cascades down your back.

“Nico, you’re like…really good at this,” you reach your good hand to the back of your head, running it down the braid.

“Told you, I had a lot of practice,” he shrugs, setting the mirror down.

You yawn, the relaxing nature of having your hair braided allowing you to realize how tired you are from the day’s events.

“Nuh-uh, gotta keep you awake until we get some food in you,” he tuts, taking his hands and patting your cheeks.

You groan, leaning into his palms that stay resting on your face.

“C’mon, let’s get you changed and on the couch,” he motions for you to leave the bathroom.

You walk to your room, Nico helping you carefully remove your sling before leaving and giving you some privacy.

You change into your pajamas, somehow managing to get your arm into an oversized Devils shirt you found at the bottom of your drawer.

Nico is standing outside of your door when you open it, helping you back into your sling.

He stands in front of you, staring at you with a look that you can’t decipher.

“Is…everything okay?” you question him, noticing his stare after adjusting your sling.

His eyes snap up to you, seemingly unaware that he was even staring at you in the first place.

“Uh, yeah, sorry. I just- is that my shirt?” he asks you, pointing to your pj shirt.

You look down at the oversized shirt, trying to think of where you got it.

It had just showed up in your laundry basket one day, assuming it was one they gave you when you got your job, but Nico’s question makes you think harder.

You realize, suddenly, you do remember where you got it.

During one of your post lesson dinners, Nico had spilled his drink all over his shirt. You offered to wash it for him after he changed to a shirt in his duffel.

You meant to take it back to him after you washed it, but forgot about it entirely, packing it away in your pajama drawer.

“Oh, crap, it is. Do you want it back, I can go change?” you ask him, worried he’s upset that you forgot to give it back.

“No…no it’s fine. Keep it. I have plenty,” he shakes his head, glancing down at it once more.

The two of you make your way to your couch, finding something to watch on tv when there’s a knock on the door, signaling the arrival of your food.

You start to stand to go get it, but Nico sternly tells you to stay put.

Rolling your eyes you sit back down, grabbing the remote and continuing to channel surf.

Nico’s gone for longer than you expect, causing you to sit up and turn back towards your kitchen, wondering what’s taking him so long.

You see him walking over to you, a tray full of food in his hands.

He had ordered from your favorite sushi place, figuring it would be the easiest for you to eat one handed.

As he sat down the tray on the coffee table in front of you, you realized what took him so long.

Nico had put a toothpick in each piece of your sushi, knowing using chopsticks with your non dominant hand would have been hard for you. He poured soy sauce into a small container, allowing you to simply pick up each toothpick and dip it in the sauce before popping it in your mouth.

He had also ordered you a bottle of cherry coke, which he knew was your favorite, and placed it on the tray with the lid unscrewed and a straw peeking out of the bottle next to a glass of ice, just incase you wanted it that way instead.

You looked up at him, feeling that funny feeling in your chest like you did earlier in your kitchen, blown away at how he always seems to think of everything he can to help you out, even when you’re not injured.

You must’ve been looking for longer than you realized, because he cocks his head at you, confusion present on his face.

“What?” he asks, not understanding what’s wrong. “Did you not want sushi? I thought you said it was always the one thing that could cheer you up?”

You shake your head at him. “No, sushi is perfect,” you tell him, a small smile on your face as you look up at him.

He smiles back for a few moments, then started scooting the coffee table towards you so you don’t have to reach to grab your food. He moves around the table to sit beside of you, the size of the small table causing him to sit so close to you that you can feel the warmness of his large thigh against yours.

You once again think about all of the things he’s done for you without you even having to ask. Now including coming over after a game—no doubt exhausted and sore—and taking care of you without even thinking twice. Braiding your hair and calling you pretty. Staring at you unintentionally wearing his t-shirt. Modifying your food so it’s easier for you to eat with one hand.

You sit there, staring at the man you fear you’re falling in love with, already planning out the apology text you’re going to have to send your mom.

[dilfl0v3rss]

https://twitter.com/bestpornclipsx/status/1660915013479964674?s=46

what would have had to happen for y/n to be in this situation with ony

hmmmm idk

sikeeee!! i always know😛 link

“got some nerve…coming up in there like you ain’t got no sense” his voice deeply touched your ears as he spoke. your ass was hot from the many times he’s struck it. pussy being pounded into oblivion from the back. it was almost certain you were going to be sore and bedridden in the morning. all because you let jealousy cloud your judgment.

“ma i just told you, been telling you the whole ride home, i don’t know that girl” you rolled your eyes at him, not caring about the irritated look your boyfriend was giving you. “you mean to tell me this bitch knows your name, mom’s name, and has your number in her contacts, and you never fucked wit her? boy get the fuck outta here wit that!” you pointed your long acrylic nail in his face as you spoke. getting up close and personal to show him that you weren’t playing.

ony took a deep breath before replying. crossing his big arms across his chest to keep himself from just snatching you up right there. “first of all…watch your mouth. second, i need you to put that big girl brain to good use and think.” you rolled your eyes as he continued to to break down your assumptions. “no cocky shit, but i’m probably the most known nigga on this campus and you know that. so of course people gon know my name. as for my number, i can’t stop girls from asking around for it. she prolly got it from someone on the team and i’ll check em for that. and you can check my phone to clarify ‘cause ain’t no female in there but my momma and you.”

your face began to soften as his excuses were starting to make sense, an apology already on the tip of your tongue as he continued. “as far as knowing momma’s name, you gotta be smarter than that princess. after every game what i say to the camera?” your eyes revert to the floor, guilt clouding your mind as you start to feel bad for how you were acting. ony softly cooed at you, inked fingers tilting your chin up so he can look into your eyes. “tell me ma” you sighed deeply, taking a long pause before answering his question. “y’say ‘first i wanna give a shout-out to my very first supporters, my parents Abena and Todd Jackson.’ m’sorr-”

“sh sh sh. what else baby?” your eyes instantly began to water as you recited the second part of his speech. “a-and y’said ‘a-also wanna give a big shoutout t-to my beautiful g-girlfriend y/n.’ m’sorry papa i was just so mad and i–” he cut you off again, this time by snatching you up by your throat and bringing your face closer to his. “this is why we communicate ain’t it? to prevent shit like this, but you ain’t do that did you? nahh….you came into the team house yelling and screaming, embarrassing the both of us ‘cause you let your emotions get the best f’you. so now…. ima let mine get the best of me. go in the room and strip.”

it was a matter of minutes before ony had you stripped and screaming in the middle of the bed. dick punishing your insides so good , but you held that need for release with a death grip. “daddyyyy i said m’sorry alreadyyy. p-please let me cumm” you whined, drool dripping from your lips as ony replied with a hard slap on your ass. “no. you ain’t learn yet” he grumbled, angling his hips downward so he can be felt in your stomach. your mouth opened in a silent scream, the feeling too much for you as you tried to inch up the bed.

ony watched you closely, letting you move up just enough so you can take a sigh of relief before yanking you back onto him. “don’t run from me mama. you gettin what you deserve” you let out a loud whine as you felt him begin to hit you deeper than he did before, heavy hand coming down on your ass repeatedly. your ass was definitely going to be sore in the morning. “you love me?” ony asked, stroking you just right to the point where holding your orgasm was almost unbearable. “y-you know i love you daddy”

the next thing you knew, your back was too his chest and ony has his hand tightly around your neck. the brutal pace of his hips slowing to deep strokes. his dick repeatedly hitting the sweetest spots inside of you. there was no way you could hold it in anymore, a quiet whine escaping your lips as your release slowly trickled down your thighs. ony wasn’t far behind, his ropes of cum shot deep into you as he slowed his hips to a stop.

“if you love me then communicate wit me cause now you gon be here all night. turn over.”

[simplyraeblue]

hunter and hunted (jjk)

college (summer) break au: a fic in which y/n is pining over Yuji's older brother Sukuna, while unbeknownst to her, Choso is doing the same thing for her. contents: sukuna x reader, choso x reader, modern college AU, yuji and choso are brothers, sukuna and yuji are brothers, smut warning, fem reader

chapter warnings/tags: lil bit of angst, choso's feelings are starting to show, drinking games, reader is starting to get butterflies from choso A/N: just a simple plot chapter! we're closer to a little choso x reader action, and sukuna may react poorly... ( • ᴗ - ) also no matter if there's smut in the chapter or not, I will always use MDNI!

index part seven | part nine

part eight word count: 2,912

you had decided that this weekend would be the best one of your life. after all, it was finally time for the annual summer trip that you go on with Yuji and your friends every break; last year it was the beach, but this year the group vote was to stay in a cozy cabin in the woods with plans for hiking and exploring. but your favorite part was the idea of making smores and drinking around the campfire.

“Yuji let’s go! we have to get a move on!” you yelled up the stairs, your patience wearing thin as you waited for him to hurry. you heard a clumsy thud from above, followed by a series of frantic footsteps. Yuji appeared, hopping down the stairs on one foot while struggling to put his shoes on fast enough.

“jeez, mom, I’m moving as fast as I can.” Yuji quipped, nearly losing his balance but catching himself on the stair railing. “why am I the only one getting yelling at?”

he had a point. you turned back to the stairs and hollered, “Choso, we’re going to leave without you!”

convincing Choso to join this years trip had been a small miracle – and Yuji insisted it was because you asked him to. normally, Choso wasn’t one for group outings, often dismissing your friends as immature and obnoxious. it was a mystery to you as to why he agreed to come along this time, but you weren’t complaining.

you silently thanked your lucky stars that Sukuna wasn’t around when you’d asked; he had been off on a trip with his own friends this week, conveniently coming back after you guys had left. with the increased distance between the two of you, you were slowly forgetting the anxiety you had about what had happened, instead opting to focus on the joy of hanging out with Yuji and Choso.

finally, Choso came down the stairs, at a snail’s pace you might add, carrying a duffel bag and wearing headphones around his neck. “I’ve got my music queued up for when we get in the car, so don’t even think about bothering me.” he plainly told you and Yuji, his expression already showing signs of the annoyance to come.

“Aw come on Choso. what if I wanted to play I Spy with you?” you teased, poking him in the side to agitate him more – but it had the opposite effect. instead of swatting you away and groaning like usual, Choso merely smiled at you and shrugged away from your intrusion, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes.

by the time you managed to herd the two of them out the door, Nobara and Megumi were waiting by the car. Nobara was tapping her foot impatiently, her gaze sweeping over the three of you with a critical eye. “which one of you took the longest to get ready?” she demanded.

without hesitation, you pointed at Choso and Yuji, while they both pointed back at you. your jaw dropped in outrage. “hey! I was the one yelling at you two to get your asses downstairs!”

“doesn’t matter.” Megumi said with a sigh, rolling his eyes. “just get in the car so we can get moving.” he slid into the driver’s seat, with Nobara taking the passenger seat. you were left to squeeze in the back, wedged between Yuji and Choso. with a final round of groans and shuffles, you all took off on the journey.

being sandwiched between Yuji and Choso wasn’t the most comfortable arrangement, and there was absolutely no room to stretch out. Yuji, like a child, kept poking and pestering Nobara from behind her seat – this inevitably led to you getting caught in the crossfire, often receiving a swift swipe from the red head accidentally.

the drive wasn’t long, but it was just long enough to leave you feeling cramped and achy. you glanced over at Choso, who had his headphones in and his eyes shut, likely tuning out the chaos of the car. deciding to take a chance, you gently pulled one of the earbuds from his ear.

Choso’s eyes snapped open in irritation before he realized it was you. “can I listen too?” you asked, offering a hopeful smile hoping to persuade him.

he nodded, a soft smile spreading across his face. you took the extra earbud and popped it into your ear. to your surprise, Choso’s playlist was filled with lo-fi music – pleasantly surprising you. the gentle beats began to relax you, and you found yourself leaning against Choso’s shoulder, closing your eyes.

unbeknownst to you, Choso’s face turned a delicate shade of pink at the unexpected contact. he looked down at you, finding you utterly adorable as you sought comfort in his presence. his smile widened as he enjoyed the moment. just then, he noticed Yuji staring at him, eyes wide in disbelief.

“what the hell?” Yuji mouthed silently, his expression a mix of surprise and confusing.

Choso quickly mouthed back, “don’t know what you’re talking about,” before settling back into his seat and closing his eyes. even though he was eager for the car ride to be over, a part of him wished it would go on forever so he could savor your closeness a bit longer.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

you hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but the gentle shaking your shoulder woke you, and you realized you’d dozed off for the entire ride.

“y/n, we’re here.” Choso said softly, nudging you awake. as you blinked away the remnant of sleep and sat up, you stretched and tried to shake off the drowsiness. “I think you drooled on my shirt a little.” he added with a hint of amusement.

your eyes widened in alarm as you quickly glanced at Choso’s shirt, but there was no sign of drool. Choso’s laughter only made your cheeks flush with embarrassment. “don’t do that to me; I was about to feel terrible for sleeping on you.” you snapped, giving him a playful swat.

once you all exited the car, you took a deep breath and stretched your limbs, relishing the opportunity to pop a few joints. the cabin that stood before you was charming and cozy, exactly what you’d been looking forward to. the surrounding quiet was a welcome change from the car ride chaos. you mentally noted to thank Megumi later for using Gojo’s card to book the place – or perhaps thank Gojo himself.

Nobara broke the silence, questioning, “so, what’s the sleeping arrangement?”

“I’ll bunk with Yuji, and the rest of you can get your own rooms.” Megumi answered, a smirk on his face as Yuji beamed with approval.

“but Megumi, you booked the place.” you protested. “surely, you should get your own room.”

“don’t argue.” Nobara cut in firmly. “we get our own rooms.” you suspected that Nobara’s insistence was partly why Megumi had arranged it this way. while you loved her to death, her sometimes picky nature made you relieved to not be sharing a room with her.

the group entered the cabin, immediately splitting off to go find the bedrooms and place luggage inside. you chose a bedroom on the second floor, away from the action, perfect. if you needed a quiet moment, you knew you would be able to escape up here.

while unpacking your bag, you heard footsteps approaching up the stairs. curiosity piqued, you peeked out of your room to see who would be claiming the other room on the second floor. to your surprise, it was Choso.

he caught your eye and smiled warmly. “coming up here for the quiet too?” he asked, his voice gentle.

you blushed slightly and nodded. “yeah, you know how those three can drink and stay up late. I didn’t want to be kept up all night.”

Choso nodded in understanding and proceeded to the extra room to settle in, the door directly across from yours. you felt a wave of relief knowing that Choso was your neighbor up here. it was reassuring to have someone who wouldn’t be a nuisance, and thankfully, he didn’t have his stereo system from home to blast music all the time.

once everyone had settled in, you all regrouped in the kitchen, where Megumi and Yuji were taking charge of dinner. they were in full swing, cooking up a storm as they worked together seamlessly. Nobara, perched on a stool nearby, pestered them with a constant stream of corrections.

you and Choso, seated comfortably at the bar, watched the spectacle with amusement. Yuji had thoughtfully packed your favorite drinks in the cooler before you all left home, and you took a satisfied sip from the can. even though you knew that the weekend was likely to be filled with drinking games, you were just content to unwind and enjoy your alcohol responsibly.

as dinner came to a close, Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara set up a game of drunk jenga in the living room, their excitement building with every clink of a beer bottle. Choso and you decided to bow out; it was the first night at the cabin, and you wanted to wake up refreshed without a hangover tomorrow.

as the night progessed, the room was filled with the sounds of laughter and playful competition. you found yourself feeling blissfully content, sitting a little closer to Choso on the couch and relishing in the comfort.

“who do you think is gonna lose this round?” you asked Choso, your eyes fixed on Yuji as he came close to toppling the wooden tower over.

“hm…” Choso pondered, watching the game intently. after a moment, he said, “I’m betting on Yuji. he’s been a bit clumsy this round.”

“wanna make it interesting?” you suggest with a playful raise of your eyebrow. Choso’s eyes sparkled with intrigue, and he tilted his head slightly.

“what do you have in mind?” he asked, his tone light but with a hint of challenge. for a moment you thought you felt butterflies begin to flutter in your stomach.

“if I win, I get to steal your headphones for the drive back.” you proposed with a grin.

“sounds fair.” Choso agreed, pausing to consider his own wager. “alright then. if I win, you have to go to dinner with me when we get home.”

your stomach did a little flip at his proposition, and you could feel the butterflies taking flight. “how does that put me out?” you asked, your cheeks warming up as you felt the heat rise.

“you’d have to pay.” Choso said with a grin, noticing your realization. “and I eat a lot – maybe not as much as Yuji, but be prepared for a hefty bill.”

you groaned in mock frustration, but there was an undeniable thrill within you at the wager. “fine, but I’m taking you to a McDonald’s.”

“what’s not what I –” Choso started to protest, but his words were cut off by sudden, unexpected knock at the front door.

everyone in the room paused, their attention shifting to the door with a mix of curiosity and concern. Nobara’s brows furrowed. “who the hell could that be?”

Yuji stood up, slightly swaying but with an air of confidence. “maybe it’s the owner of the rental.” he suggested. as he made his way to the door, you noticed Choso’s hand reaching back toward you, a subtle protective gesture that warmed your heart.

with bated breath, you all watched as Yuji turned the doorknob and pulled the door open.

you’d seen plenty of scary movies, the ones where a group of friends go to a cabin in the woods and run into an axe murderer, but nothing could have prepared you for the jump scare you received when the door opened

“guys, look who decided to show up!” Yuji exclaimed, his voice brimming with excitement as he gestured to the figure in the doorway.

“looks like my trip ended a bit early, so I thought I’d take my little bro up on his offer.” Sukuna said with a wide grin, his gaze sweeping over the room. his eyes landed on you, and his grin momentarily faltered before returning, albeit a bit force. he glanced at Choso, whose hand was still protectively reaching toward you. “Choso, didn’t think this was your scene.”

“y/n asked me to come along. I couldn’t say no.” Choso replied through gritted teeth. “didn’t think you’d show up either.”

Sukuna chuckled, making his way into the living room and sitting in a chair that, thankfully, was not next to you. “well, someone's gotta make sure none of you kids do anything stupid.” he said, his eyes lingering on you. you quickly looked away, feeling a flush of discomfort.

“we don’t have an extra bedroom.” Megumi stated calmly, though his body was visibly tense. you knew that Megumi and Nobara really didn’t like Sukuna, only tolerating his presence for Yuji’s sake.

“I’ll take the couch.” Sukuna shrugged, but his gaze remained fixed on you, making you feel increasingly nervous. “or I could share a bed if anyone’s willing.”

“the couch is fine.” Nobara said, her voice dripping with disdain as she caught the look Sukuna was giving you.

you felt like you couldn’t breathe the longer you could feel Sukuna stare at you. having Choso sitting between you two didn’t help much, considering he was beginning to act like your bodyguard making Sukuna only stare harder.

there goes your peaceful getaway.

as Sukuna settled into the living room, the tension became almost palpable. Megumi and Nobara exchanged uneasy glances, while Yuji of course remained unaware, but soon returned to their game.

you stayed put on the couch next to Choso, trying to avoid Sukuna’s lingering gaze. Choso’s presence was a small comfort, his protective demeanor evident as he subtly inched closer to you, his body language signaling he wasn’t happy with Sukuna’s intrusion either.

eventually, Sukuna leaned back in his chair, his eyes still occasionally drifting towards you. he made no effort to engage with the group’s activated, instead seemingly content to observe and occasionally interject with comments that seemed designed to provoke a reaction. Nobara was the easiest to rile up, and you heard her cursing at him every few minutes.

as if sensing the need for a break, Choso stood and stretched. “I’m going to grab a drink. anyone else want anything?” he asked. you took the opportunity to get up as well, eager to escape Sukuna’s wandering eyes.

you followed Choso into the kitchen, where he began rummaging through the cooler for another drink. “I’m sorry about this.” Choso said quietly as he handed you a drink. “I didn’t expect him to show up – honestly, I didn’t know Yuji invited him.”

you took a sip, appreciating the drink and Choso’s attempt to offer comfort. “It’s not your fault.” you replied. “I guess I thought this weekend was going to be relaxing.”

Choso shook his head, his expression shifting to one of mild annoyance. “I know he can be uncomfortable sometimes.” he admitted, his voice low. “he’s always been a bit… inappropriate around you.”

you nearly choked on your drink at his words. if only Choso knew the full extent. the thought of what would happen if Choso and Yuji found out about the bruises being left by Sukuna made your stomach churn. this was definitely not the time to reveal that particular little secret.

“actually, I appreciate the drink, but I think I’m going to head to bed early.” you said, your lips forming a thin line as you mentally cursed Sukuna for dampening your mood. you wanted to act like his presence didn’t bother you, but tonight, you didn’t have the strength to put on a brave face.

Choso’s hand gently rested on your arm, and his brows furrowed in concern, the tattoo across his nose wrinkling as well. “does he make you that uncomfortable?” he asked, his voice filled with genuine worry.

you couldn’t tell Choso exactly what you were feeling right now, so you just shrugged and gave a small weary smile. “nah, he’s just an ass. I’m just tired from the drive.” you lied, and Choso nodded in acceptance.

“I won’t let him ruin your fun, don’t worry.” Choso smiled softly, a gesture you couldn’t help but return as you set down your beer and rubbed your clammy palms on your pants.

“let me know who loses – I expect to find those headphones in my ears when we leave in a couple of days.” you teased, making him laugh, before you turned and made your way for the stairs.

Yuji caught your movement, shouting out at you, “y/n, you’re going to bed already?”

you paused at the bottom of the stairs, turning to give your best friend an apologetic smile. “yeah, just sleepy from the trip.”

you refused to acknowledge the fact that Sukuna was unabashedly staring you down, and you were unaware of Choso glancing between the two of you as you fidgeted with your fingers.

“if you need anything don’t hesitate to let me know.” Choso told you, making you look towards him. he offered you a smile, trying to make you feel better. “I’m right across the hall if you need me.”

oh boy, if only you knew how that made Sukuna’s blood boil.

you nodded your thanks, bidding everyone goodnight before almost rushing up the stairs. once you were behind a closed door, you let out a deep sigh of relief.

and all you had wanted was a peaceful getaway.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . taglist: @nighttwingg @sweetsformysoul @casualpoetrytaco @lvingd3adg0rl @haikomaiko @csolya @dealthypink if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this WIP let me know! ♡ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

[meazalykov]

injury on two continents

lena oberdorf x reader (requested)

warnings: injury

If someone were to tell you a few years ago that you’d be happy with your own girlfriend, you’d think that they’re lying. 

Throughout your career, you questioned if you’d ever have time for relationships. However, Lena came into your life unexpectedly when you joined Bayern Munich in 2021. 

She was your opponent during a game between your club and Wolfsburg. The German woman kept hitting on you and eventually, you fell for her. You guys have been happy together ever since. 

Now, it's June 2024, and as the international break begins, Lena is scheduled to play against Poland, while you prepare to face the Korea Republic. This break is particularly crucial for you, who is a key midfielder expected to be on the roster for the upcoming Olympic Games with the United States.

It's also the last game before you get a month-long break from soccer, so you’re eagerly looking forward to some downtime with your girlfriend on an upcoming Ibiza trip.

Due to the time difference between you two, you’re having breakfast with your closest teammates Sophia, Mallory, Trinity, and Tierna at a cozy coffee spot near your hotel– while Lena is playing a late-afternoon game against Poland. 

The atmosphere in the cafe you’re in is light and filled with laughter, but you look over to see Tierna's expression as you’re sipping on your iced latte. 

Your eyebrows knit together as you look at the Gotham player on her phone. Concerned, you ask what's wrong.

"Tierna, are you okay?" Y/N asks, raising an eyebrow.

Tierna looks up from the video on her phone, her eyes wide with worry as she notices that you asked her the question. "Y/N, you need to check your phone. Like, right now."

Puzzled, you pull out your phone and see numerous missed calls and messages. The other girls check their phones too out of curiosity. They didn’t see much which confuses them, but your heart races as you read a message from Lena’s mom: 

Lena's hurt. It's her leg. Call me whenever you have time.

"Oh my god," you whisper, your voice trembling. Injuries happen but the range could go from a simple blow to a full ACL injury. Maybe you’d know what was going on if you watched the game, but you promised your national teammates that you would spend time catching up with them. 

You tried calling Lena’s mom after seeing her message from 43 minutes ago, but it goes straight to voicemail. 

All of the girls at the cafe look ahead at you with worry. Your fingers go to dial Lea's number next. She is the second closest person to Lena after you, so that was your best option. 

After a couple of rings, Lea picks up.

"Lea, hey! What happened? Is Obi okay?" Y/N asks, her voice a mix of fear and urgency.

Lea's voice is calm but serious. "Hey, Y/N. She took a bad hit during the game. The doctors don’t think it's anything serious since she's walking on crutches now. But she told us to tell you not to worry, but I know that's impossible."

"Is she okay?" Y/N's voice cracks.

"She is honey. She really wants to talk to you, but her phone died."

Y/N takes a deep breath, steadying herself knowing that Lena’s injury wasn’t as serious as it could’ve been.

"Okay, thanks– wait is she around? Can you put her on FaceTime for a minute?"

Lea nods and you hear footsteps on the other end of the phone. The scenery changes as Lena's face appears on the screen, looking tired but smiling anyways. "Hey baby!" Lena says softly.

"Lena! Are you okay?" Y/N's eyes are filled with worry.

"I'll be fine, Y/N. It hurts when I run, but the doctors are looking over me. You focus on your game later, alright?" Lena tries to reassure her.

"I can't stop thinking about you," Y/N admits.

"We will see each other in a few days, Meine Liebe. Just promise me you'll play your best and stay safe," Lena says, her voice gentle but firm.

"I promise," Y/N says. 

Later that day, during the intense match against South Korea, you dribbled the ball around a midfielder before passing to Alex Morgan. As the ball left your foot and you ran into open space, a Korean defender pushed you hard and you fell to the ground, spraining your ankle in the process.

To the observant people watching on TV, they can see your foot go in an awkward angle as your body hits the grass. The scene mirrors Lena's injury from hours before, except no player fell on top of your body afterwards. 

You had to be helped off the field, causing great concern among your teammates and fans. Your team needed you for the olympics, Emma Hayes knew she needed you for the olympics. 

Back in the hotel room in Poland, it's late at night. Lena and your fellow Bayern teammates, who are watching the game on TV, are worried and anxious when they see your body hit the ground as you clench onto your ankle afterwards.

"No, no, no," Lena mutters, her eyes glued to the screen. She stands up in concern as the other girls continue to sit on the couch with looks of worry. Some of her teammates, like Laura and Lea, try to comfort Lena as they watch the medics attend to you. Their TV was a few minutes behind so you were already off of the field by that point. 

“She will be okay.” Lea rubbed Lena’s shoulders as Laura patted on her back, looking at the medics holding Y/n while she walked off of the pitch. 

Laura, trying to lighten the mood, then says, "Looks like she got an injury on the same leg on the same day as you, Lena. Maybe you guys are soulmates?" 

Despite everything, Lena chuckles. "Maybe we are," she says softly, her worried eyes still fixed on the TV.

Back in America, the medics cared for you and did some x-rays. You had a grade 2 sprain which isn’t the worst or best sprain– but you could make it on the olympic roster if your recovery process goes smoothly.

An hour after the game, you call Lena back to update her, after seeing that she tried to call you three times within the hour. 

Despite the pain, you reassure Lena that it's likely a grade 2 sprain, meaning you should be able to recover in time for the Olympics.

"Lena, I might have a grade 2 sprain. The doctors said I should be good before July," Y/N says, her voice filled with both relief and exhaustion.

"Oh, thank god. I was so worried," Lena sighs, feeling a bit of the weight lift off her shoulders.

"Same here. We really need to stop getting hurt at the same time," Y/N jokes weakly. This was the first time where they’ve gotten injured at one time, but y/n felt the need to say that. 

"Right," Lena replies, smiling through the screen. "I can't wait to see you and hug you once we’re back in Germany."

"Me too. We have to move your stuff into my apartment too so take care of yourself, okay? I love you," Y/N says, her voice softening. The couple were excited throughout the last few months, Lena is transferring to Bayern Munich and will live with y/n finally. 

"I love you too, Y/N. Rest up," Lena responds.

<3

[strayrockette]

My Sunshine Girl: A Healing Home

Masterlist❤️Previous Part

Summary: Having Benny around changes things for the better.

Themes: Family drama, underlying grief, and finding comfort in your favorite person

A/n: I didn't realize I was writing in first person and by the time I noticed I was already too deep in the process 🤷‍♀️LMK if you wanna be part of a taglist for this series, or for all my works!!

The weeks following the fight at the bar were a blur of quiet days and slow healing. Benny had told me to stay home until the bruises and scrapes faded, though he never really explained why I needed to lay low or how he planned to smooth things over with the cops. I didn’t press him on it. I trusted him enough to just listen, even if the silence that came with being cooped up sometimes felt too heavy to bear.

I called my uncle to let him know I was taking a few weeks off, spinning some story about needing to clear out the attic and sort through old boxes that had been collecting dust since my childhood. It wasn’t a lie, exactly; the attic had been long overdue for a cleanout. But what I hadn’t expected was how many old memories would come flooding back during those quiet weeks at home.

Some days, the house felt haunted by the past—pictures of my mom tucked away in forgotten corners, trinkets from a time when life felt simpler. I’d find my old pookie bear, the one my ma had made me, and all at once, the grief would hit me hard, like no time had passed at all. I’d crumble under the weight of it, tears streaming down my face, and Benny would be right there, no questions asked. He didn’t pry when I broke down, didn’t push for explanations. He just wrapped his arms around me, letting me cry it out until the storm passed.

He was my buffer, my anchor, the one constant in a sea of emotions I wasn’t always prepared to deal with. And even on the hardest days, he made it easier just by being there.

But it wasn’t all sadness. Sometimes, between the dusting and sorting, we’d stumble onto something that would break the tension and remind me that joy still had a place in this old house. Like the day Benny found my middle school diary—tucked away in a box of yearbooks and scribbled notes, full of awkward confessions and childhood crushes. I was mortified, scrambling to snatch it out of his hands as he held it above his head, flipping through the pages with a devilish grin.

“Number one: Mr. O’Connell, your eighth-grade math teacher? Really?” Benny read aloud, his tone dripping with mock horror as I jumped, trying and failing to grab the diary back.

“Oh my god, Benny, stop!” I begged, my face burning as I reached up, but he just laughed, lifting the diary higher, making a game out of it.

“You had a thing for math, huh? Or just guys with glasses?”

I groaned, mortified but unable to keep the smile off my face. “Give it back! I swear, I’ll—”

Benny kept reading, amused at my futile attempts. I shoved a nearby box over, using it as a makeshift step stool, only for it to collapse under me, sending me tumbling to the floor. The crash echoed through the attic, and for a second, everything went silent before Benny’s laughter broke the tension, deep and infectious.

I looked up, sprawled on the floor, and started laughing too, the kind of uncontrollable, belly-aching laughter that leaves you breathless and teary-eyed for all the right reasons. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed like that in this house.

We spent the rest of the day making new memories, each corner of the attic becoming less about the past and more about the here and now. Benny helped me pack away the old pain and fill the empty spaces with something lighter, something new. The house felt different by the end of those weeks, less like a museum of all the hurt I’d carried and more like a home that was ours.

Every time I looked at a corner that used to be filled with sadness, I felt gratitude instead—a quiet, blooming joy that wrapped itself around my heart. I wasn’t forgetting my mom or the pain we’d both gone through, but I was finding a way to make room for happiness too.

The midday sun streamed through the kitchen window, casting warm, golden light across the countertops as I moved around the stove. The smell of homemade tomato soup filled the air, mingling with the buttery aroma of the grilled cheese I was making for lunch. I knew Benny was supposed to be out the door over an hour ago, but here he was, his arms snug around my waist and his head resting comfortably on my shoulder. I could feel the soft, steady rhythm of his breathing against my back, his presence grounding me in a way that made the entire world feel right.

“Weren’t you supposed to leave an hour ago?” I whispered with a giggle as he kissed the sensitive spot on my neck, his lips lingering just long enough to make my skin tingle.

Benny hummed, his voice low and lazy, full of that warmth that always sent shivers down my spine. “You’re holding me hostage,” he murmured, nuzzling into my neck like he had all the time in the world.

I scoffed, flipping the sandwich in the pan, the bread sizzling as it turned a perfect golden brown. “I hope that’s not what you’re tellin’ the boys,” I teased, trying to keep the smile off my face as his kisses grew more persistent, more playful.

“They’d believe it,” he said, his lips brushing against my skin as he grinned. “You were a sight of fear for them that night.”

I nudged him gently, still caught off guard by the way he made me feel so seen, so known. “No way they fear me,” I said, laughing at the absurdity of it. The idea of those big, greasy, tattooed men being scared of someone like me was ridiculous. I was a lot of things, but intimidating wasn’t one of them—not to them, at least.

Benny chuckled softly, his voice a warm rumble that I felt all the way to my bones. “You were a force,” he said, and I could hear the pride mixed with amusement in his tone. “Five women tried to pull you off, and you broke through them—teeth, nails, and limbs flying everywhere. Like a little monkey.”

I gasped, feigning offense as I pushed him back playfully, though his hold on me didn’t loosen. “Rude!” I scolded, my cheeks warming as I turned the sandwich again, trying to focus on the task at hand despite the way his words made my heart race.

Benny laughed, the sound deep and peaceful, wrapping around me like a favorite song. “I never want to think about that night ever again,” I sighed, shaking my head at the memory. I’d gone to the bar looking for some fun, but it had turned into anything but that. “Eat your grilled cheese and leave me alone, Benny Cross. You’ve made enough rude comments for one day.”

He dipped lower, his lips brushing my cheek, then my jaw, peppering soft kisses along my skin until I was practically squirming from the attention. “I’m waiting,” he murmured, his voice smooth as honey, and I knew he was enjoying every second of this.

“Your plate was already made,” I said, my tone dripping with disbelief as I tried to keep my composure. I pointed to the counter where his sandwich and soup were sitting, perfectly plated and ready to eat. “Right there.”

“For you,” he whispered against my ear, his hands roaming my sides in a slow, soft caress that sent jolts of pleasure through me. He was relentless, every touch deliberate, every kiss a gentle tease that made it hard to think straight.

I bit down on the wave of heat that spread through me, refusing to give in completely. “If I hear someone make a comment about me keepin’ you hostage the next time I’m at the bar, I swear I’m chucking an 8-ball at ‘em,” I warned, trying to sound stern, but my voice came out breathless, betraying the effect he had on me.

Benny grinned, his lips brushing my ear as he whispered, “Let ‘em talk, Sunshine. You’ve got nothing to prove.” His hands continued their slow exploration, skimming over my hips and up my back, a mix of comfort and desire that made my knees weak. “Besides, I like being held hostage by you.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and free, bubbling up from somewhere deep inside me. “Yeah, well, you better behave,” I said, turning just enough to look at him, catching the mischievous glint in his eyes. “Or I might just let you go.”

He pulled me closer, his grip firm but tender, holding me in place as he looked down at me with that lazy, cocky smile I’d grown to love. “You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried,” he said, his voice low and rough, filled with something deeper than just teasing. “I’m right where I wanna be.”

I leaned into him, letting the warmth of his body and the comfort of his words wrap around me like a blanket. His stubble tickled along my neck with each kiss he placed. I shivered and inched away from him with a giggle, "At least let me finish plating my dish."

He grumbled as he stepped away, grabbed his plate, and moved to sit at the table. I glanced over my shoulder and found him staring intently at me, his eyes dark and.. "Oh my gosh, Benny, are you pouting??" I squealed, "I'm so telling-"

My teasing quietened as a rapid knock broke our moment. The knock wasn’t just loud—it was aggressive, rattling the walls with an urgency that made my heart jump. Benny stood up from the table, his easy smile fading as the tension in the air thickened. I watched as he walked to the door, his shoulders squared and ready for whatever trouble was waiting on the other side. I barely heard the door open before a booming voice echoed,

“Where is she?”

Uncle Harold boomed, his voice filling every corner of the room. Benny instantly stepped in front of him, his stance protective and his jaw clenched tight. I could feel the anger radiating off Harold in waves, each word landing like a blow.

“You need to back off, Harold,” Benny said, his voice edged with warning as he kept his body between me and my uncle. “You can’t just come in here like this.”

But Harold was past listening. He shoved Benny aside, his eyes searching the room until they found me, just as I stepped around the corner from the kitchen. I froze, the intensity of his glare pinning me in place. Benny quickly moved to close the door behind Aunt Gina and stepped in front of me, blocking my uncle’s line of sight. His broad back was a shield between me and the onslaught of Harold’s rage.

“What’s going on?” I asked, my voice shaky but defiant. I tried to look around Benny, but he held his ground, his presence a firm line of defense.

Harold’s face was twisted with anger, his fists clenched as he pointed at me. “You’ve got this boy living in your mama’s house!” he shouted, his voice cracking with emotion. “And I’ve got Old Man Harry telling me you’ve got a bunch of Vandals vouching that you weren’t in a fight when six women described you in detail!”

The words hit like a slap, the sheer force of his anger pressing down on me, but as his accusations rang out, something inside me snapped.

Benny glanced back at me, his eyes searching mine, but he didn’t move from his spot in front of me. He was there, steady and unflinching, even as the storm raged on. “Harold, you need to calm down,” Benny said, his voice low and tense. “She doesn’t need this from you.”

I stepped around Benny, frustration boiling over. “DO YOU EVEN HEAR YOURSELF RIGHT NOW?” I yelled, my voice trembling with fury and years of bottled-up hurt. “You used to be a biker too! You still have your bike! You know what that life is like!”

“That’s different,” Uncle Harold snapped, his anger flaring again as he tried to reel himself back, but I wasn’t about to let him off that easy.

“No, it’s not!” I shot back, my voice breaking. “When you met Aunt Gigi, you’d just gotten out of jail! She still gave you a chance. She saw something in you that no one else did. How is it any different for me and Benny?”

Harold’s face tightened, his anger battling with the guilt that flickered briefly in his eyes. “It’s different because your mama made me promise,” he said, his voice straining, shaking with unspoken grief. “She made me promise that I’d protect you. I gave her my word that I’d be the father you needed.”

Pain gripped my chest, sharp and unforgiving. My throat tightened as I tried to hold back the emotions that threatened to swallow me whole. “Don’t bring her into this!” I shouted, my voice cracking under the weight of it all. The mention of my mom felt like a knife, twisting deep. The hurt was suffocating, choking me with memories of promises I never asked for.

Harold’s face contorted with pain and fury, his voice shaking as he continued. “You’re running around with this boy, getting into trouble, doing things you shouldn’t. You aren’t the little girl we raised.”

I took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to steady myself, but the grief and anger were a tidal wave, pulling me under. I tried to step around Benny, desperate to confront my uncle face-to-face, but Benny’s arm shot out, his hand gently tucking me behind him. His body was a shield, protecting me even when I was ready to charge headfirst into the fire.

“Harold, enough,” Benny said, his voice like steel, unyielding and protective. “You don’t get to judge her. You don’t get to make her feel small.”

I peeked around Benny, the tears burning in my eyes as I stared at my uncle. “You never knew me,” I said, my voice cracking with the raw truth I’d kept buried for years. “Because the little girl you raised was broken, scared and angry. You never saw that, did you? You never saw how hard it was to keep it together, how much I was hurting.”

The room was thick with tension, the air heavy with the weight of unspoken pain. Aunt Gina stepped closer, her face etched with sadness as she watched me unravel. “Sunny, we’re just trying to help,” she said softly, her voice a calm presence amidst the chaos. “We love you. We don’t want to see you get hurt.”

But I was too far gone, too tangled up in my own grief and anger to let the words soothe me. “I know you love me,” I said, my voice trembling as I fought to keep control. “But you don’t get to decide what’s best for me anymore. You don’t get to come in here and throw around all your guilt and promises like they’re weapons.”

Harold’s face fell, the anger draining away, leaving only the hollow ache of regret. His shoulders sagged, and for the first time, he looked at me not with fury, but with a kind of desperate sorrow. “I’m scared, Sunny,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m scared I’m failing her. Failing you. I don’t want to lose you.”

The admission hit me harder than any of his accusations. I could see the guilt and fear that mirrored my own, the weight of promises made in grief and love and uncertainty. But this wasn’t just about him, and it wasn’t about my mom. It was about me.

I took a shaky step forward, Benny’s hand still resting on my shoulder, grounding me. “You’re not failing me,” I said, my voice softening as the anger ebbed away, replaced by something gentler. “But you’ve got to let me live. You’ve got to trust me to make my own choices, even if they’re messy.”

Aunt Gina reached out, squeezing Harold’s arm, her touch a quiet anchor pulling him back. She looked at me, her eyes filled with a sadness that was heavy and old, and nodded slowly. “We just want you to be happy,” she said, her voice choked with the weight of everything left unsaid.

“I am happy,” I whispered, looking up at Benny, who watched me with those steady eyes that had been my rock through it all. “Because I’m finally living for me.”

Uncle Harolds expression softened, the lines of his face deepening as he looked at me, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his own failures. “Forgive me,” he murmured, his voice breaking with raw vulnerability. It wasn’t just an apology for tonight, but for everything—for every time he’d let his anger and grief overshadow his love for me.

Harold bowed his head, the pain etched deep into his features, and without another word, he turned away, his broad, hulking figure seeming smaller, more fragile as he walked toward the door. He moved slowly, like he was dragging the weight of the world behind him, every step heavy with the sorrow of a man who’d tried to do right but hadn’t always known how.

Aunt Gina lingered for a moment, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and quiet reassurance. She reached out, squeezing my arm gently, her touch warm and grounding. “We’re still here, Sunny,” she said softly, her voice laced with a kind of fierce love that made my chest ache. “No matter what, we’re still here for you.”

I nodded, feeling the sting of tears that I refused to let fall. “I know,” I whispered, my voice catching as I met her gaze. “Thank you.”

Gina gave me a soft, reassuring smile, the kind that spoke of years of shared memories, both good and bad. She glanced at Benny, her expression shifting to something like cautious hope, and then back at me, her eyes full of unspoken promises. She turned to follow Harold, her footsteps light but purposeful, and with one last look, she stepped through the door, closing it softly behind her.

With the door closed and my aunt and uncle finally gone, the weight of their words hung heavy in the air, settling deep into my bones. The playfulness of our earlier mood had completely vanished, replaced by something darker and more somber. I stood in the middle of the room, feeling lost, unsure of what to do with myself as the emotional turmoil that always seemed to follow me crept back in. I had thought I’d managed to escape it these past few weeks, hiding in the warmth of Benny’s company, but now it was back, clawing at me with a vengeance.

I sniffed, trying to swallow down the lump in my throat, the familiar sting of tears threatening to break free again. “I need a nap,” I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper. I couldn’t even bring myself to look at Benny, my gaze fixed on the stairs as I rushed past him, desperate to get away, to hide from the flood of emotions crashing over me.

I stumbled into the bedroom, shutting the door behind me and collapsing onto the bed. I curled up into a tight ball, pulling the blankets around me as if they could shield me from everything swirling inside my head. My uncle’s voice echoed, relentless and unforgiving, each word like a dagger twisting deeper. ‘I promised your ma I’d take care of you.’ The guilt, the pressure, the overwhelming sense of being a disappointment—it all wrapped around me, suffocating and relentless.

I buried my face into the pillow, my chest tightening with each shaky breath as I tried to keep it together. But it was no use. The tears came anyway, hot and uncontrollable, spilling over as I silently sobbed into the fabric. The pain of my past, the weight of everyone’s expectations—it was too much. All the anger, the sadness, and the unresolved grief came rushing back, drowning me in a wave of emotions I didn’t know how to handle.

I didn’t hear Benny come in, but I felt the bed dip as he sat beside me, his presence a quiet, grounding force that I hadn’t realized I was desperate for. He didn’t say anything, didn’t ask me to talk or try to pry me open. He simply wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close, his body fitting around mine like a protective shield. I felt his head nestle into the crook of my neck, his breath warm and steady against my skin.

He didn’t let go, didn’t pull back when I tensed, just held me tighter, his arms firm and unyielding. Benny’s embrace was like an anchor, something solid and real in the middle of my storm. His touch was gentle, each stroke of his thumb against my shoulder a silent reassurance that I wasn’t alone, that I didn’t have to carry all of this by myself. I felt the trembling in my body start to ease, the frantic beating of my heart slowly matching the calm, even rhythm of his.

Benny’s presence was more than just comforting; it was life-saving. He grounded me in a way that nothing else could, pulling me back from the edge of my own despair. The panic, the guilt, all the things I kept locked away—they didn’t feel so unbearable with him there, holding me through it. I closed my eyes, letting myself sink into the warmth of his embrace, feeling the tension slowly begin to drain from my muscles.

He kissed my shoulder softly, his lips brushing against my skin in a gesture so gentle it almost broke me all over again. I felt the tears well up once more, but this time they were softer, less frantic, as if Benny’s presence was slowly unwinding the tight knot of pain inside me. I turned slightly, pressing my face into his chest, breathing him in—the scent of leather, smoke, and something uniquely his that always made me feel safe.

“I’ve got you,” Benny whispered, his voice low and hushed, like a secret meant only for me. His hand moved up to cup the back of my head, his fingers threading through my hair as he held me close. “You’re not alone. I’m right here.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, the words breaking through my defenses in a way that nothing else had. Benny didn’t try to fix me, didn’t pretend that he could make everything better, and that was exactly what I needed. He was just there, unconditionally, holding me as I broke down, no judgment, no expectations—just a quiet, unwavering support that made me feel like maybe I could keep going, even when everything felt impossible.

I pulled back just enough to look up at him, my eyes puffy and wet, but his gaze was soft and full of something that made my heart ache. I saw the way he looked at me—not with pity, but with an understanding that went deeper than words. He brushed his thumb across my cheek, wiping away the last of my tears, and I felt the flood of emotion rise up again, but this time it was different, warmer.

“I love you,” I whispered, the confession spilling out before I could second-guess it. It was raw and unguarded, the truth laid bare in the quiet space between us. For the first time, it didn’t feel scary to say. It felt right.

Benny’s face softened, and a smile tugged at his lips, gentle and filled with a quiet joy that made my heart flutter. He leaned in, pressing his forehead against mine, his eyes closing as he let the words sink in. “I love you, too,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “More than you know.”

I melted into him, my arms wrapping around his neck as he held me tighter, his embrace a sanctuary from the world outside. The chaos, the pain, my uncle’s harsh words—they all faded into the background, replaced by the steady, calming presence of Benny beside me. I buried my face against his chest, letting myself be small and vulnerable, knowing that with Benny, I didn’t have to be anything but myself.

Taglist: @storiesfromafan@aleemendoza2425-blog , @preciouslilmonster , @iamaslytherin0

[judes-hoe]

Best daddy~ KM7

Parrings~ Kylian Mbappé x reader

Summary~ you and Kylian have your first baby and it’s a girl.

Warnings~ all I have to say is cute girl dad!kylian…🥺

A/N~ part of my birthday spam🎀💋🫶🏻

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Kylian found out we’re having a baby and he was more than happy when he found out it was a girl. You told him in the cutest way. He couldn’t come to the appointment when you found out the gender. So when you got home you told him you knew and that you’d feed him a strawberry or blueberry and he’ll know when he taste it. When you fed him a strawberry he immediately opened his eyes and was making sure your having a girl before hugging you excitedly.

When the time came he was at the hospital by your side the whole time. Holding your hand getting your anything you wanted. Rubbed your back when you had to push and holding your hand. He help and cut the umbilical cord. They let you hold her and she stopped crying and then the doctors took and cleaned her and weighted her.

After they had you try breast feeding and everything they asked Kylian if he wanted to do skin to skin. All he had to do was take his shirt off and the doctors knew his answer. They carefully took her outfit off and laid her on his chest. He watched as they laid her tiny head on his chest and he held her close and started to whisper to her. He started to cry a little looking at her on his chest. You watched it all and you even started crying.

When you finally got to go home Kylian knew you needed rest and got up most nights to be with her, sometimes you’d get up still and watch from the door way. He’d cradle her while he fed her, whispering to her and saying things to her. One night when she wouldn’t stop crying you watched as Kylian tried his hardest to put her back to sleep. Whispering to her, “please baby, I want mommy to get her rest,” he said to her cause he knows while he’s at training you deal with most of the hard work so the least he can do is take nights. You watched him from the doorway and when she didn’t stop you told Kylian to give her to you. She instantly stopped crying and Kylian looked sad.

“Don’t worry you did nothing wrong, they say babies cling more to mom after being born.” You told him while you rock her to sleep. “Maybe I’m just not home enough for her to recognize me.” He said with a frown. “No. Don’t say that, she knows you’re her daddy and she loves you so much” you told him as you lay her down since she’s finally asleep.

On his days off he tells you to go out and do stuff with your friends and he’ll take care of her. You always come home and find your baby girl laid on his chest and they’re both asleep on the couch. It warms your heart seeing the sight of it.

When she grows Kylian definitely spoils her, sometimes you have to scold him and say she can’t get everything she wants and needs to learn that she gets stuff for being good and not just when she wants. He quickly stops and only gets her stuff when she’s done something good. They always have daddy daughter days if Kylian wants to give you a break. Kylian also gets her to be a mascot at games anytime he can.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[sunaluv]

I love the "Come get your man" series could you make a pt4????[you do not have to]

I love your work sm!!!keep doing what your doing!!!

Drink water, take breaks when needed, take care of your health both mentally & physically!!and see you next ask♡

wooo we back at it again! thanks for checking in on me bae 🥲 take care of yourselves too!

also thanks for 1k followers 🥳

part 3

feat. kenma, tsukishima, iwaizumi

steamer!KENMA

kenma loves his job. as a professional streamer he’s his own boss, he doesn’t have to be around people too often and he’s become really fond of his little online community (not that he’d admit that out loud).

it’s been a week since your unplanned debut on his channel. you didn’t realize he was recording when you came to drop of his snacks, doing your daily check in. ever since, all the tags with his stream name were aggressively loving, basically demanding him to bring back their ‘mother’ to the screen.

you drop in every now and then to remind his viewers to look after themselves, jokingly scolding them for not looking after your man aswell but it’s all fun and games on both ends.

whilst watching his stream in the room next door, you can help but notice a user in particular.

@/kodzubae: LMAOOO i thought he would be dating someone much prettier😭 didn’t know kodzu did charity cases.

even though the chat was moving before you could read all the comments, your eyes always managed to find whatever the user said about you, and none of it was nice. you didn’t have to be told not to read the comments— it’s an unspoken fact but your eyes and brain always seem to betray you, feeding into your minor insecurities.

you haven’t even realized you were staring at a blank screen. kenmas’ stream had ended whilst you were too lost in your thoughts.

“…you alright?” he asked hesitantly.

though your eyes lit up and your lips quirked at the sight of your boyfriend, he knew something was up— call it a sixth sense of his.

you wordlessly tried to convince him that you were okay, talking and joking the rest of the night until you fell asleep in his embrace but none of it felt genuine. he didn’t want to pry, but it physically hurt him to see you hiding things from him.

totally disregarding the first rules of boyfriend 101: “don’t go through your partners phone!”, kenma unlocked your phone, instantly frowning at the screen before him.

it was her twitter page. kenma knew his lifelong fans, and the handle on your screen now was one of them, except it was full of fan behavior for him and blatant hatred for you.

he felt bad.

it wasn’t exactly his fault, but he still felt responsible for the digs at you that were happening on his live.

the next day, you had woken up hours after kenma. you tend to do that when you sleep with a heavy heart.

in the distance, you could hear him talking, probably streaming. so you opened his stream on your phone and tuned in right on time.

“hey guys,” he greeted. “before we start i want to say something…i’ve become aware that ever since ‘mother’,” he emphasized on the quote marks. “made her first appearance, some of you have not been the nicest to her online and i just want to say that that’s a boundary that absolutely cannot be crossed.”

@/user1: WHAT? WHO HURT MOTHER

@/user2: i hope she’s okay :( luv u mom

@/user3: we’re just going to skip over the fact that he acknowledges them as our parents? okay…

@/user4: cross ken >:( cross ken >:(

“so from here on out, any hate towards her will be an instant block. i’ve told my mods too so behave…” he firmly, yet gently scolded.

“now that’s out of the way, today we’ll be…”

you watched the rest of the stream with a smile on your face. though you were working on voicing your concerns and discomfort, it was nice to know that kenma is willing to work for you whilst he waited.

TSUKISHIMA (tall!reader)

“you look so much taller when you’re not welded into tsukkis’ side, ya know?”

startled, you angled your neck down to see one of your classmates.

you had been avoiding her, and she, you. but it seems she’s finally willing to break this ongoing silent tension fest between you two.

“what do you want.” you deadpanned.

she gasped. “you’re too mean! tsukishima doesn’t deserve to be with someone like you, he deserves someone who is more down to earth, you get me?”

she eyed you up and down to emphasize her point.

taking your silence as willingness to listen, she continued. “i mean your too tall! granted he is too but opposites attract, he needs someone who will look good with him, like me.”

you folded your lips inward to contain your laughter. you and basically everyone knew about this girls love for your boyfriend, but you never pegged her as the type to come at you like this.

“you can have him if you want,” you waved. “kei looooves short girls.”

her eyes lit up in victory, obviously not sensing your sarcasm. “cool, just make sure you break up with him today because-“

“nobody is breaking up with anyone.” a voice shot.

low and behold, your six foot something boyfriend shutting down any advances you were planning to set him up with. though he joined the conversation, he only appeared to be addressing you.

“kei! i-“

“tsukishima.”

“tsukki! i-”

“no.”

he made eye contact with your smirking face over the girls head. “you were just gonna throw me to the wolves like that?” he asked offended.

you chucked. “there’s no wolves kei, look at her” you pinched the cheek of the stunned girl stood in between you two. “she’s harmless, like a poodle.”

she stood, mouth open seemingly in shock.

looking back at him, his face did not let up. you sighed.

“i’m sorry kei,” you breathed through your nose. “i will never subject you to such a horrible, earth shattering, torturous-“

“that’s enough, my god” he groaned. grabbing your wrist, he dragged you by the wrist, only slowing down when you rounded the corner, out of the girls view.

“you know i was joking, right.” you poked his cheek, to which he swatted your hand away.

“i know you’re joking,” his signature smirk appeared. “after all you wouldn’t throw away the opportunity to date the guy you’ve been crushing on for as long as you’ve been here. if i recall, your confession went along the lines of ‘i-“

you slapped your hand over his mouth in embarrassment. leave it to the guy to turn your confession into a weapon against you.

you playfully bickered down the rest of the hall, forgetting all about the girl who had tried to take your place earlier.

IWAIZUMI

“are you sure you’re not only using him to like, get to oikawa or something?”

the first words this girl had spoken to you. you don’t know who she is, or where she came from but she has some nerve coming with such a ridiculous question considering you haven’t formally met before.

“excuse me?”

“you heard me,” her tone was now accusatory. “i’ve seen many girls do iwa dirty because they want oikawa so if that’s the case save yourself an ass beating and leave him alone!”

you don’t know if you have bad memory or what because you don’t know who this girl is and as far as your concerned, neither does your boyfriend.

“i’m sorry, are you a friend of his?” you were more confused than anything.

“i am his and he is mine.”

woah.

you didn’t want to accuse her, but every sign she was showing pointed to a major case of FDS (fan delusion syndrome), a case of the crazies found in fans of the oikawa toru founded by you, maki and mattsun, but you were unaware that this case was also present in your boyfriends own… supporters.

you don’t blame them though because your man is a total hunkkkk. anyways.

right on queue, the door slid open and both of your heads turned to meet hajime’s, and of course he has to show up with a sweaty face, shirt practically clinging to his defined body.

“hajime!” the girl called, running and stopping infront of him. “she’s using you do get to oikawa, break up with her!”

he followed the finger that was pointed to you— confused and lost in the middle of the gym.

“that’s my girlfriend, she doesn’t like him like that.”

the sound of a shattered heart pierced the sudden silence. “w-w-what do you mean girlfriend, she’s after toru i’m sure of it!”

a humorless chuckle sounded from his throat. “trust me, she doesn’t ”

being cautious not to set the girl off, he traversed around her, and straight to you who watched the whole interaction both concerned and amused.

“wowww,” you breathed. “i didn’t know you were also a cause for FDS.”

“what?”

“nothing,” you straightened. “i don’t blame her though. i would go crazy if you walked around looking like that too.”

his face flushed and he turned away. “stop saying things like that���”

you smiled, poking his cheek. “what, i can’t appreciate my boyfriend who’s built like he was carved from the greek gods himself?”

he walked away after pushing your face with his hand, drowning your chuckle.

“c’mon haji, don’t be like that,” you chased after him. “you have to be feeling yourself a little after seeing the affect you have of the seijoh population!”

the girl watched as you made her ‘man’ flush, comment after comment, feeling numb as she watched him get more and more out of his reach.

[hellishjoel]

burning desire

10.3k // pairing:dbf/neighbor!joel x f!reader

Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3

summary: An argument with your mother before family dinner leaves Joel worried about you. He sneaks you away to grab a drink and talk about what’s on your mind. 

warnings: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, dbf/neighbor!joel, soft-hot-protective!joel, rocky mother-daughter relationship (this one ain't for the weak - mommy issues galore) & discussions of verbal fighting, slight clues of abandonment issues, smut, swearing, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel in his 40s), pet names, praise!kink activated, unprotected p in v (yes finally, the edging is over), mentions of birth control,  slight cockwarming if you squint, slight degradation kink

A/N: I crave three things after writing this chapter: Joel, Joel Miller, Joel fucking Miller. Also, I’m almost done with The Last of Us Part 1 :(( sad that it’s ending, but it’s been so much fun to play! Enjoy this chapter <3 

Your parents make good on their invitation and ask Joel over for dinner. A steak dinner, to be exact. Paired with wine, mashed potatoes, green beans, and a pie your parents picked up from the local bakery in town. 

You sort of hope Joel pulls out his long list of excuses to evade any awkwardness. 

Sorry, can’t tonight. I’m finishin’ up somethin’ for work. Can’t wait another day. 

Or,

Hey, maybe another night. Not feelin’ too hot. 

When in reality, it’s more like, 

I can’t come over for dinner tonight because I might bend your daughter over my truck if I see her again. 

As active as you and Joel have been, you have yet to hit a home run in lewd baseball terms. In fact, all the bases in your and Joel’s game were totally screwed up. You hit third base before you hit first, and you weren’t even sure if there was a second base. It was all just so confusing now. 

But you wanted the home run, you wanted Joel, you desired him in that light. You wondered if he was ready for it. 

Screwed over by your father asking Joel over for dinner and screwed over by Joel agreeing, you had no other choice but to sit through it and act like everything was normal. 

And everything was normal for the first half of the day before you and your mother got into it. 

The argument was recycled. You wished she would come up with better material. But it always came down to what you wanted to do after this summer since you recently graduated. And that was an ongoing war. 

After two door slams, your mother retreating to her bunker, and you finding shelter in the bathroom, you’d say today’s battle was over. 

You sit on the floor, bare feet touching cold tile. In a way, it soothes your shaky body. 

No matter how old you get, this feeling never seems to waver with its intensity. The feeling that no one’s listening, no matter how hard you scream for them to hear you. Regardless of how often you have these conversations, you become a small child again, being scolded and told that what you thought and wanted wasn’t right. 

You managed to collect your journal expertly hidden in your bedroom before fleeing to the safety of the bathroom. You flip open the pages with teary eyes. 

You wish you didn’t have to admit that this was your safe space. On the bathroom floor, back flushed against the dark wood door as you closed your eyes and tried to calm your breathing. 

June 17th  2:28 P.M. 

Mom started a fight with me about not traveling again. She says it’s crucial for me to start my career immediately. I don’t even know what I want to be yet. 

You have to pause to blink back tears. You wish you had your life figured out like it felt everyone else did. 

Why does she have to care so much that I want to leave for a little bit? It’s not like it’s forever. There’s so much more out there. I’ve studied miscellaneous classes for four years and want a break. Why do we always have to have this conversation over and over again? She always asks how I will take care of student loans and bills. I have repeatedly told her that I’ve been saving up for a while to do this. She keeps saying she wants what’s best for me and doesn’t want me to start my career too late. She says it’s hard to let me go.

I love her, and I appreciate her support through school, but school is what taught me about independence as well as academics. I want to live my life and have experiences you can only get by leaving home for a little bit. Maybe then I’ll better understand what I want for my future. 

Your writing pauses, and you stare straight ahead at the beige wall, blurry eyes reading another cheesy sign. Bathroom - Open 24 Hours - Seat Yourself. 

You decide to spare a moment of your mother’s casualties and pencil in something else that’s been recently stirring. 

I’ve been seeing Joel Miller casually since the start of this summer. I can’t believe I’m even writing this. It’s weird -- but in a way, it’s also not? He’s older by like a mile, but he’s familiar, comfortable. Easy to talk to. It doesn’t feel like he’s judging me. I’m not trying to read too much into it, but this summer sucks less because of Joel. Whether he knows it or not. 

---

You and your mother work around each other while setting up dinner in the backyard garden. She steps back inside to grab more wine glasses. 

You’ve put on a nice summer dress. The hem lands somewhere on your thighs and flows with the breeze. After sobbing on the cold bathroom tile for an hour, you don't feel very pretty, but eating outside and soaking up some fresh air might make you feel better.

“Hey, sweetheart.” 

Joel Miller was the largest, broadest, lumberjack-est man you had ever met, but he moved as quietly as a mouse. Your eyes blink a few times as you haphazardly set down the bowl of mashed potatoes on the circular table. 

“Hi.”

Your voice is raw and red, softer than usual. Joel seems to instantly take notice. You see it in the way his eyes soften. He moves a little closer, hands resting on the back of one of the white outdoor dining chairs. 

Your face probably reads more panicky than intended. He picks up on your faulty mood and assumes the worst. 

“Do they.. Do they know?” He asks, eyebrows knitted with a deep furrow in between. 

Your eyes go doe-ish, shaking your head and occupying your hands with a spare cloth napkin.

“What? No. Why would you think that?” 

He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t have to. He takes one long look over your being and you feel it in the space between you. 

Somethin’s wrong. 

Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine, Joel. 

He tilts his head, eyes narrowing on you more. 

Suddenly, you felt exposed. Like someone had ripped the curtain open on you. No one had ever seen right through you like this before. It was unsettling, but god, you just wanted to lean right into it. 

If your parents weren’t just inside, you’d walk right into his front and curl your head in his chest just under the hook of his chin. You’d close your eyes and wrap your small arms around his waist. 

He’d encircle you in his big, protective arms and shield you from the pain you’ve felt today. You’d listen to his heart thrumming against his chest, using the rhythm to try and slow down your breathing while he whispers to you in his sweet southern drawl.

S’alright, sweetheart. Everything’s gonna be okay. I see you tryin’. 

His eyes flitter into light again, ease passing across his features. 

“Like the dress.” He looks over you with a condescending little smirk. This man has never seen you in a dress in your life. 

“Shut up. It’s just for dinner.”

He lets out a cocky little tut. “‘Cause you knew I was comin’ over?”

When you look up at him again, his hand gently rests over yours. You don’t have time to appreciate it; the sliding back door opens, and your father’s big booming laughter shakes the nearby lake. Joel’s subtle touch is instantly gone. 

“Joel! So good to see you! Hey, great bonfire a few weeks ago.”

You take a deep breath and excuse yourself from the shop talk. You don’t want to be alone with your mother in the house, but the table still needs to be set up. You work around each other in silence. She grabs the salad, you grab the dinner rolls and green beans. You could hear a pin drop. 

---

Dinner would have been better if you had an appetite. You spent the majority of your time making a tilled farm field out of your mashed potatoes. You’d flatten out your helping with a fork and then gently run the fork’s ribs through the moldable potatoes and create little crop lines out of it. You don’t always play with your food, but you weren’t really up for conversation. Your mother takes notice. She hates it. She hates that you were letting your personal problems exist in the company of others. 

The only time you looked up even slightly was when Joel started talking. Sort of a calm in an unknown storm, you suppose. He looked so handsome without even really trying. You wore a crooked smile as you looked over the dark green button-up he was wearing. It was starting to be your favorite color, he wore it so well. 

There were points where your parents would turn to each other. And Joel would turn to you. It was sort of a silent check-in. 

Under the protection of the table, his hand found your knee, his big fingers lightly playing with the hem of your dress. It was the first time you cracked a real smile all dinner. Your hand ghosted over his, your nails lightly running soothing, slow lines on the underside of his wrist by his watch. 

You doin’ okay?

Mhm.

It didn’t dawn on you that Joel might have felt he did something to cause your saddened mood. And this was his way of asking. You bit down on your lower lip, feeling his fingers lightly interlock with yours over your knee. Your eyelashes flutter at the warmth it propels through your body. It was just what you needed. Everything was going to be okay. 

---

You’re working over a stubborn steak juice stain on a plate as the sun sets over the lake and glistens a soft yellow-orange hue through the windows in the kitchen. Your parents are moving around you while you rinse the dishes, back turned to them as they spoke in mundane conversation and pack up leftovers.

You don’t see him, but you can feel Joel’s presence as he enters the doorway. He watches you. He watches your parents. You wonder what he sees. The next thing you know, he’s shaking your parents hands and bidding them goodnight. 

He stops at you. As the running faucet splashes against a few forks and a wine glass, you spare him a glance. 

“Walk me out?” Your parents take notice of his ask. And not in the way you expect. 

You tilt back and forth on your feet, looking back to the dishes. You really just wanted to finish what was left to clean and read in your room for the rest of the night. 

“Uhm-”

“Go on and walk him out, honey. We’ll see you soon, Joel. Thanks for stoppin’ in.” 

Your eyes go from Joel’s, to your parents. If they were anything, at least they were oblivious. 

You and your mother share a look before she sighs and exits the kitchen. Your jaw loosens, not even realizing how hard you were grinding your teeth while looking at her. 

“Yeah. Okay.” Your murmured voice is barely audible above the gushing sink faucet. After you set the plate on the drying rack and smear your wet hands on a dish towel, you walk Joel outside. 

The night breeze off the lake sets in a layer of goosebumps up your arms. 

Joel’s boots scuff against the gravel and dirt in his driveway, his footsteps pausing at his truck and turning to face you. 

The rising moon and setting sun work in unison to highlight his aquiline nose and silver-sprinkled jawline. He’s charmingly handsome. Rugged features meet a stone facade. 

You take a hesitant look back into the house. The kitchen light is still on, but no one is in the small windows. 

“You wanna tell me what’s really goin’ on with you?” He crosses his arms, cocking his leg out as he leans his weight onto one of his hips. 

You muster up a shrug and fold your hands around your arms to keep the light chill away. It felt like you couldn’t tell the truth, the house and your parents inside watching over you. The pressure of it all makes your shoulders lurch up a bit into your neck. 

But Joel continues to press you. You’re making him nervous, you think, because he’s not accustomed to seeing you so quiet. 

“Are you..” His words falter and fall off, and you can see the frown creased into his mouth.  “You’re wantin’ t’stop seein’ each other?” 

“What?” Now you’re the one frowning, closing the gap between you and Joel and taking him by his hand to the other side of the truck, using it as a shield between you and the rest of the world. Your back flushes against his driver-side door. 

“No, I don’t want to stop seeing you, Joel.” You frown and squeeze his hand a little tighter in assurance. “Trust me. You’re kind of..” You struggle to make the words fit. Nothing seems right. You’re kind of the only person I want to be around right now.

Joel looks a little relieved. He doesn’t make you finish your sentence. He seems to connect the dots. Joel looks from your solemn face to the house behind you—the cause of your ill-stricken mood. 

“How about we grab a drink n’talk.” It’s not a question, exactly, it’s more like a command. 

You don’t want to talk about what happened, and you have a sneaking suspicion that if you two go off together, your parents will be asking questions. 

You push the toe of your sneaker into the gravel and twist slowly back and forth. 

“I should just head back inside. My parents are probably waiting up for me, anyway. Cleanup duty.” You say unenthusiastically with a dash of sarcasm. Joel’s eyes are looking past you, still at the house. You turn around to follow his eyeline. All the lights in the house have been turned off—even the porch light. Joel scowls at the sight, thinking how he always leaves the light on for Sarah. 

The caged-in feeling returns, your chest tight as you look to your feet and try to breathe through the ache your heart held. You wanted to get out of here, and now. 

“Never mind.” You bite down on your lower lip to hold it together. “Let’s go.” 

You’re already swinging open Joel’s door, rust creaking at the joints as you slide into the passenger seat. These old trucks with no center console were so cool to you. Maybe you'd appreciate it more if you weren’t in such a shitty mood. But Joel’s already in the truck beside you, the warmth he’s radiating was welcome. His key turns in the ignition, and it clicks a few times before the engine roars to life. 

You don’t talk, he doesn’t force you to. You feel at peace putting some distance between you and the lakehouse. 

Joel drives past neighborhoods with funny street names.  Thunderbird Lane. Firefly Drive. Sugar Loaf Lane.

As the sun just finishes setting, the whole town is covered in an orange glow that will soon fade to purple. Everything flies by your window, and moving at this speed feels like the cage is lifting around your chest, the clasps on your wrist snapping free. 

Rolling down the window makes the breeze funnel into the truck and flow through your hair. Before you know it, your body is halfway out of the window. 

“What ‘n God’s name do you think you’re doin’?” Joel’s tone was warning, his fist catching your dress in a fist around your lower back in an attempt to make sure you didn’t get thrown out of the truck.  “Get back in here.” 

You turned back so Joel could see you, eyes lit, and a smile from ear to ear. His hold slowly loosens at the sight before him. 

Back arched out the window, he drives a little slower and towards the center of the road. You look up, arms outstretched into the night air as you breathe everything in. Fresh lungs, filled with a new perspective, no tears left to cry as you hang out of Joel’s window. The stars gleam, and the universe is vast.

Oh my god. You hear yourself mumble, feeling freedom reeling through your entire body. And like that, you were new again. 

A satisfied sigh leaves your lips. You’re back in the truck now, and you roll the window up but not completely closed. The wind still tickles a breeze into your thrown-about hair. You look to Joel, his eyes already on yours. 

Joel sees your fire has been re-lit, thrashing out licks of flame and building in intensity. He adores you wild and free.

“Better?”

You fix the space between you, your body melting into his side as your head lazily rolls onto his shoulder. His heavy arm finds its way around the tops of your shoulders to keep you sedentary. 

“Much better.” 

---

He ends up passing the central part of town. It’s better this way. Go somewhere he won’t be recognized with a woman half his age. He’s the one who lives in town throughout the year. You and your family only visit in the summer. It doesn’t help that the town is small, and Joel is one of a handful of skilled contractors in the area. 

His rusted truck lulls to a jittery stop outside a small bar lit by a red neon sign reading, Past Lives. You wander inside, passing empty barstools and a glowing dartboard, while your sneakers crunch peanut shells littering the ground. You nearly slipped on a large pile of them, but Joel’s hand was firmly on your bicep before you could flail any further. 

“You might be the clumsiest woman I’ve ever met.” He mutters, annoyance passing over his features. 

You roll your eyes and scoot onto one of the tall barstools at a small square table against the wall. “I doubt that’s true.” 

He shrugs his shoulders and cracks open a peanut, tossing it into his mouth. “You’re right. Your mother is the clumsiest woman I know. You get it from her. Once, I watched her glide five or six feet down the end of the dock and land in the water.” 

An ill feeling passes over you again, pursing your lips as you trace your finger around the small bowl Joel is picking his peanuts from. 

Joel halts his movements, chewing included, and watches as your eyes stare meaninglessly at the table. 

“Never really seen you like this. Thought I’d like it if you were quiet for once. But now it just feels out of character.” 

Joel’s boot teasingly nudges your sneaker under the table. His brown eyes look warm despite the lack of light in the dingy bar. Your stomach twists thinking about how he looked under the moonlight just half an hour ago. 

Those pretty eyes of his meet yours. Soft. Kind. “Talk to me.”

A beaten-up sigh leaves your lips, tugging at the hem of your dress. 

After a drink or two, you tell Joel everything he missed before dinner. How you and your mother fought. How it was all venom and tears, leaving you cold and alone on the bathroom tile. By the time the battle came to a halt, there was no clear winner or loser. 

Joel’s an attentive listener. He doesn’t interrupt. He knows when to prompt you need a push. Joel’s pile of peanut shells has turned into a small molehill. The ice in your drink sloshes around as you start talking with your hands. 

“I love her, I mean, she’s my mom. But she’s always fought me on this. This-this-...”  

“The traveling,” Joel assists, his large hand nursing a small glass of whiskey. He looks amused like he enjoys watching you spew. You supposed he feels more relieved to see you explode like this rather than holding it all in.

“And-and it’s so much more than that! She fought me about leaving Texas for school, she fought me about doing a semester abroad, she just can’t let me go, it’s suffocating!” 

You didn’t mean to sound so passionate, and you hadn’t realized how vocal you became until someone slowly clapped on the other side of the bar in appreciation. You stifled a laugh and put your head shyly in your hands. 

He nods slowly, waiting to see what you’ll say next. You’re using him like you’re journaling at home, now it’s just interactive. 

You sigh and pinch at the bridge of your nose, closing your eyes as you listen to an old country slow song humming throughout the bar. 

“Didn’t even wanna come back this year.” Your words are barely above a murmur. 

This makes Joel pause. “What d’you say?” 

You sit up straight and sigh, crossing one leg over the other under the table. These stupid drinks are making you tell the truth. Be more vulnerable than you would ordinarily be. But it’s also because you’re talking to Joel, and he’s always been interested in what you have to say. 

“I didn’t want to come back this year. These past few years, I didn’t come back to Danbury because I sort of- purposely- busied up my summer. Internships, work, anything to keep me busy and out from under their-their….” You pause to make hand gestures that are wide and all-encompassing. 

Joel juts his jaw out to the side, lips pursed before he speaks again. 

“M’happy you came back.”  

There’s a moment of silence. Joel’s eyes aren’t on yours anymore. He’s swirling his glass around slowly and watching his ice rotate in a sloppy circle. You slowly start to smile as he looks bashful. 

“What did you say, Mr.Miller?” You pry teasingly, reaching your hand over and gently stroking his watch band. The nickname makes his eyes narrow on yours. 

“Nothin’. Forget about it.” He throws back the last of his drink, and you’re cooing for him to continue. 

“Wha- Joel, come on! Why did you say that?” 

He’s just trying to buckle down his smile, hiding it with his whiskey glass and shaking his head. 

“Didn’t say nothin’.”

“Yes, you so did. Don’t even try to lie.” 

“I’ve never lied a day in my life.”

Your eyes go wide, and now you’re smacking his forearm. He’s shoving quarters at you now, sliding them to your side of the table as a form of distraction. 

“Can you just-” He scoffs under his breath and rolls his eyes, finalizing his quarter total to four. “-fuck off, go put a song on the jukebox.” 

You sneer at him but obey. You look for something particular, pausing on Little Lies by Fleetwood Mac, smirking at him as you punch in his quarters. He seems confused as to why you stay standing at the jukebox. 

The chorus hits, and you point accusingly at him as you do so. 

“Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies,” you can’t even finish before your right foot catches on more slippery peanut shells, freezing like you were caught on ice skates and trying not to fall. 

Joel’s hand has a vice grip on your bicep again until you regain your balance. God. Your face gathers heat as you snatch your phone off the table, and he lets out a laugh at your expense. 

“Can’t sing,”

“Hey-”

“Can’t walk in a straight line.”

“I had like four drinks.”

“Two.” He corrects. There’s no hiding that you’re just unbearably uncoordinated. 

“God. Just- get me out of here, Miller.” 

Joel was biting back a smile. He likes teasing you, taunting you. Only because you know how to serve it back to him. 

“Not until you see this. Wanna show you somethin’.” He sets down his whiskey and lays down cash to cover the tab. 

You start your stride, and Joel’s already looking at you with instilled concern. You insist I’m fine. Go on. You follow him through a narrow hallway towards the restrooms, an exit door lit up with a red sign over it. 

The walls are filled with signs, pictures, and letters, all illuminated by a soft flickering strip light.  These were trails that people had left along the way, passing through the bar and leaving a piece of them behind for strangers to admire. It was like a memory wall. 

Joel leans back against the men’s restroom doorframe, arms crossed as he silently admires the wall. And you. 

Your fingers brush an old family picture timestamped from the late 80s. There were business cards, from bankers to bonds bailsman. 

You feel Joel’s hand cast warmth on your hip, guiding you further down the hall. You follow his eyeline to a large yellow-light spoiled wall map. There were push pins all in different parts of the world. 

“Look at all of these, Joel!” Your eagerness was evident as you stepped in front of him, finger flying from one point to the next, squinting past the tacks to read the cities people have visited. 

“Bangkok, Thailand. Paris, France. Of course. London, Dubai, Tokyo.” Your voice trails off, finger-stopping around the empty parts of the map that some of the bargoers had yet to venture off to. The pins around the state of Texas were ironic. 

You gently took a step back, Joel's broad and hardened front caressing your back. His arms gently wrap around you before they clasp at your front. You rest your temple against his bicep as you sigh. You found comfort in him tonight more than he could understand. 

Your neck cranes to the side and up, observing his defined jawline from below. “Have you ever been out of the country?” Your face is lit with excitement, only to fall as he slowly shakes his head. You turn back to the map, your fingers gently holding onto his muscular forearm. 

“Am I crazy for wanting to leave?” 

You can feel a heavy breath leave through Joel’s nose, the air fanning over the top of your head. 

“You’re not leavin’. You’re travelin’. You’ll come back, eventually.” 

The muscle in your jaw twitches, and your eyes move to the Eastern side of the map, spotting the tiny European countries. 

“Maybe my mom is so worried that if I decide to leave, I might not come back.” You say it as a joke. It makes Joel muster up a tut. But maybe, just maybe, you mean it.

---

You feel drops scatter from the dark black clouds overhead as you rush out to the truck, feeling the cold rain splash onto the exposed skin of your thighs.

Joel’s hot on your heels, doing his little side hop down the stairs and jogging lightly with his arms tucked into his sides. He’s already tossed you the keys to his truck. His body hovers over yours and shields the raindrops from landing on your head as you fiddle with unlocking the truck door. 

“Any day now.”

His babbling thwarts your concentration. 

“Fuck off, it’s like- rusted shut.” You tease before giving the handle one large tug, and it gives way with a creak. You slip in, dress hem tangling up on your upper thighs. Your hand flies to fix it instinctually, but you slow down when you see how adamantly Joel admires the exposed skin.

When you two make eye contact, he’s already cleared his throat and put the key in the ignition. He cranes his neck back to look out the rearview window, left hand cranking the wheel with precision while his right arm wraps around the back of your headrest. You swallow the lump in your throat, watching Joel reverse out of the bar’s parking lot and back onto the main road.

Your heart thumps, and you think he can hear it because his eyes are on yours when he turns back around. Magnetizing. And you have a hard time facing him without feeling a little shy. Because you’re thinking incredibly naughty things now. 

On the drive home, the rain pelts the truck and hard. Joel’s wimpy wipers are working at full speed. He’s not concerned because he knows these streets with his eyes closed. He turns up the radio a little bit to drown out the rain. He does it for you to ease your nerves. 

“You’re quiet.” He murmurs, his eyes still on the murky road in front of him. 

You can’t help but be quiet. He looks so fucking hot. As dim streaks of lightning skitter across the sky, you see the silver hairs in his mustache and beard. His rain-dampened curls are recoiling, fresh, and wavy. His thick neck was lined with strong veins and muscle.

“So are you.” You murmur back. 

His eyes catch you in sneaky glances. Your hair, pretty and dry since he shielded you in the bar’s parking lot. Dress half rumpled up your thighs, smooth skin of your legs exposed to his wandering pupils. 

The truck suddenly shifts, veering off the main road.  

“Woah,” you gasp, thinking the truck had slid at first. But Joel’s foot was still on the gas, cautiously guiding you off to a side road. You look around, covered by darkness and trees that shield your existence but do little to veil the obscene thoughts racing through your head. 

Joel finally throws the truck into a parked position, your eyes watching as his hand snaps the keys out of the ignition. 

He looks over at you expectantly. And you just deadpan. 

“Get over here." He says between gritted teeth, voice drenched in lust as he snaps off his seatbelt and then your own.

His large hands pull you in as soon as you’re free. You don’t waste another minute, straddling his lap and resting between him and his steering wheel.  

You clutch the collar of his dark green button-up, tugging him by his neck into your kiss. It’s messy and desperate, but you've wanted to taste him since dinner. His greedy hands are wrinkling your dress. The cold air tickles your warm thighs, and you whimper into his mouth. 

Joel’s kisses are rough but fluent; he speaks the language of your lips. You take a moment to admire how different the two of you are and how it feels like he’s the key to your lock. 

His warm palms slip up the front of your thighs as he kisses you, hasty and happy. He takes the hem of your dress with him. Joel is as warm as a furnace. He’s heating you from the inside out as your core begins to ache for him.

He pauses the kiss, large palm coming up to cup your cheek as his thumb traces along your lower lip. You take the time to catch your breath, feeling his own fog against the window next to you. 

“Not exactly the most romantic spot.” His eyes shift with lust-filled guilt. “M’sorry.” 

You work up a smile, leaning in to gently kiss his cheek and up his cheekbone. 

“It’s okay. We’re not romantic.” Your clarification feels like a lie. He doesn’t need to know that. 

The rain outside becomes blurred, and Joel’s looking through you again. Right through you. Your chest pounds under his watchful eyes. He sucks in the side of his cheeks, looks you up and down your face. 

Don’t lie to me. 

Don’t make me tell you the truth.

He decides to let you move on unscathed, your thighs clamping around his own with your knees at either side of his hips. His worry lines are stamped into his forehead as he looks over you cautiously. 

You break into a smile, unable to stand him looking at you like you’re a lost puppy. “Joel,” you whisper into his ear, soft lips giving his ear a kiss as your nose lightly brushes against his soft curls. Your voice drops to a whisper, sweet and divine. “Don’t make me beg, Mr. Miller.” 

Your lips suckle his earlobe and cast your tongue along the curve while his fingertips immediately dig deeper into the flesh of your hips. The sensation makes his cock twitch in his jeans. 

You smirk as you grind your hips into his lap, a suppressed grunt leaving his parted lips. He’s into it. “You like this, Mr. Miller?” Your words are murmured against the shell of his ear, teeth gently catching his earlobe and lightly tugging. 

Your words along with the rhythm of your hips over his lap have him in a tailspin. 

“Knock it off.” He warns, teeth gritted, a low growl emitting from his throat while he grips you at the waist to pause any movement. He looks so sexy snarling at you like this. Your hand reaches between you two, palming against his cock until you feel it swell into the heart of your hand. 

Joel is lazily planting kisses on the soft skin of your neck, he’s distracted by how good your hand feels. 

You take turns half undressing one another. Joel pushes your dress up to your waist and loops his index finger into the band of your panties. He guides them down with your assistance. You kick the material off your ankles and move to pop open each button of his long sleeve. He goes to shrug it off, but you smile and tighten your hold on the collar. 

“I like it on. Just wanna see your chest hair.” 

His mouth tilts into a crooked smirk.

“‘lright, then. Good to know.” He leans back in and places messy kisses on your exposed neck. You can feel how badly he wants to sink his teeth in, but you share the mutual rule of keeping those things below the collar. Out of sight, out of other people’s nosy minds. 

You struggle to admit that jimmying open his belt at this angle was pissing you off. You’re holding your breath until it clicks open, and you let out a sigh of relief. So does Joel. 

A gasp leaves your lips as Joel lifts the both of you up purely with the strength of his hips, a low grunt leaving his pouted lips as he pushes his jeans down to his knees, along with his boxers. You sit back down over him and feel his heavy shaft pressing against your slick center. His girth makes you whimper. 

The rhythm of the rain eases your racing heart. You take Joel’s pulsing member into your slightly shaky hand. 

“Nervous?” It’s not cocky or concerned, just curious. 

“M’not nervous.” You mutter, starting to pump his cock to get him to shut up. And it works. For a minute. 

His head falls back into the seat as he watches you in admiration, his own hand wandering between your spread legs and gliding two fingers through your slick. His forefinger grazes against your clit, and he has you whimpering again. 

“S’okay to be nervous.” His thumb slowly starts delicate circles into your bundle of nerves, and now he’s got your legs quivering. 

You’re chewing at the inside of your cheek, shifty eyes meeting his. You pace your words this time. “I’m not nervous, Joel.” You pull away from him to create a line of spit from your mouth, landing on his pink tip already drizzling in precum. You swallow your nerve and bring yourself to meet his eyes. “Not with you.” 

The mutual understanding links the two of you together, bound to the agreement in silence. You have a burning desire for one another. You’re scared, and he knows it. You push him to the limits, his heart beats for you. 

Steam fogs the windows of Joel’s truck. The rain dances a fine line between pounding and pouring to slow and subtle. 

Joel’s kisses lull you into a peaceful existence. You take off your dress, unable to stand anything between you and Joel. He’s warm as he wraps his arms around you, your tits flush against his thick chest. 

You line him up by his base, Joel’s trying to hold himself still under you. You’re focusing hard, and he kisses your temple to ease your thoughts. He murmurs something, but you’re too busy concentrating. 

His pink tip meets your warm flesh, and his tip slowly parts your walls. He’s seething between his teeth, how tight you are washes pleasure over his face. He wants you to go slow. You don’t want him to go easy on you. You can’t help but let his name tumble from your lips in desperation. 

“Joel,” you whine, one hand clenching the fabric of his button-up by his shoulder while the other still weakly holds his base. 

“M’here, baby.”

He’s rubbing soothing circles in your hips with his forefingers, trying to distract you from the stretch he’s creating inside you. 

His breaths are coming out in hot puffs. The truck isn’t cold anymore, in fact, it’s only steaming up. 

“So- fuckin’- tight.” He murmurs, eyebrows knitted together as his jaw was dropped open. 

It was sharp at first, but the further you sank over him, the more you couldn’t contain yourself. As soon as his balls were flushed against your core, you were kissing him. Hot and heavy, desperate and needy, can’t get enough of each other sort of kisses. One of his hands holds the back of your head to keep you close while your fingers are delicately feeling up his chest and mazing through salt and pepper hair. 

You smirk lazily against his lips, pulling away to rest your head on his shoulder. With this leverage, you start to roll your hips down onto his. Joel’s hands assist, squeezing your ass and guiding you smoothly up and down his shaft. You’re both moaning one another’s names, hazy eyes watching each other as long as they can before eventually drifting closed. 

You wished you weren’t fucking in his truck, your riding skills were a lot better than this, but if you try and pop up, your head will just smack into the roof. And he’ll make fun of you for as long as he knows you. 

“God- feel so good, Joel.” 

You’re panting already a few minutes in. You don’t want Joel to think you can’t do this, you don’t want his help. But your body is crammed in limited quarters, and you’re already sweating. 

He feels good. You wonder how long it’s been since he’s had sex. He’s not exactly the most outgoing of gentlemen. Thinking about him being with other women, maybe even women his age stirs a weird pit inside your stomach. 

One hand steadies itself on Joel’s forearm while the other gently clutches his cheek. You leave a messy moan against his ear. 

“Do you like fucking girls half your age, Mr. Miller?” You ask with a teasing smirk, messy kisses against his stubble and his ear ensuing. 

He’s grunting every time you throw yourself back into him, skin clapping against his thighs, his hands slipping from your hips to your ass and squeezing the juicy flesh. “-like fuckin’ you.” 

A low, extended groan leaves his lips as he holds your hips down, filling you full and having you sit with it. You throw your head back, and your eyes shudder closed with a loud moan occupying the truck. 

You tell yourself that you’re both just fuck happy. You can worry about the depth of Joel’s words later. He feels too good inside of you for the first time to give a shit.

Joel’s thrusts bring you back to life, hand landing against his window and leaving a print mark against the steamy glass. 

Joel senses your languid movements. He thinks you look pretty being fucked in his trunk during a thunderstorm. The darkness wraps the both of you up, only seeing flashes of each other’s features. He combs his large hand into your hair, catching your striking features with his hooded eyes. The slope of your nose. The curvature of your collarbones. Your pretty lips that he can’t stop staring at. 

Joel enjoys the control too much for you to be on top for a second longer. 

You collapse onto the truck’s long leather seat, lips parting in surprise as he maneuvers you to lie back without slipping from your entrance. 

“H-Holy fuck, Joel-” You’re breathless. 

Joel’s jaw clicks tighter as he flattens one of his large palms beside your head for leverage, hovering over you as he begins to methodically snap his hips into yours. Your desperate cries for more fill the truck. 

Both of you are horridly cursing, some in the form of whines and moans and others in the form of whispered grunts. 

Fuckin Christ-

Holy shit, Joel, please-

Feel so god damn good, princess-

Oh f- fuck me Joel, fuck me!

You’re already feeling the knots in your stomach tether tighter and tighter together, back arching as your chest brushes against his nose. 

Joel takes the opportunity and licks a hot stripe between your breasts. You know he tastes your glistening sweat, but the trail from his tongue makes you clench tighter around him. 

You catch Joel’s unfiltered groan in your mouth, his forehead resting against yours as his amber eyes grace yours. 

He’s close, you can see it in the way his features contort and his thrusts become more unpredictable. You had no idea he could fuck this good. 

Joel brings a hand up to your lips and offers you two fingers. You whimper but reluctantly take them past your mouth. You suckle and lather your tongue up and down each digit, it makes his cock twitch inside of you. 

He plucks his fingers free with a pop, a trail of spit extending from your bottom lip to your chin as he reaches between you both. 

Finding your swollen bundle of nerves doesn’t take him more than a second. You were so turned on it was almost painful. 

Joel’s tip sweetly kisses your cervix at this angle, and you are so close to spilling over. Your hands cup his face, pulling him into you as you share a messy kiss. You think about how scared you were to kiss him before, but now it makes you feel a sense of protection and safety. You wrap your arms around his neck, you need him close. 

“Joel,” you whimper, clenching your eyes closed and dropping your jaw as he finds the perfect rhythm circling your clit. 

“Can’t hear ya, baby,” He grunts into your ear. You can feel him tiredly smirking against your cheek, knowing he’s fucking you so good you’re struggling to find the words. 

“Fuck,” you mutter, your legs clenching tighter at the sides of his hips. “M’on birth control, finish inside me,” you whisper against his ear. 

You can hear him let out a short, breathy chuckle against your ear. It only drives him more, knowing he can fill you up. 

“Y’sure, sweetheart?” 

“Want to?” 

His teeth are gritted as he growls into your ear. “Course I wanna fill your sweet cunt up.” 

It was hopeless after that. 

A crack of thunder and a strike of lightning conspire, your view of Joel illuminating his gorgeous face in a white-silver flash. 

The tight coils inside you snap free, a broken moan of his name being the last thing you remember saying before white stars filled your vision. Your hold on Joel loosens as your orgasm crashes through you ungracefully, making you twitch and rut your hips below him. 

His fingers and his thrusts don’t stop. He rides out your orgasm, following suit until he flushes his hips against yours and lets out a heavenly groan of your name. You’re still under him, vision blurry and hearing fuzzy. He finds solace in the crook of your neck, nuzzling a home for himself in the space and losing himself deep inside you. 

His body shudders lightly as he finishes, spilling white streams into you for who knows how long. Your hand is gently stroking the hair at the back of his head, fingers combing through dark curls as he breathes hot air against your neck. 

You both slowly blink back to life. He’s complimenting you, but you’re too blissed out to hear the details. 

So good, baby… Such a pretty fuckin’ girl... So lucky. 

Joel tuts softly as he attempts to free his softened length, but you whine and tighten your legs around his hips to keep him stationary. 

Your eyelashes flutter as you feel gentle kisses by the corners of your eyes, tiredly smiling as you open them before slowly sitting up onto your elbows. Joel takes the opportunity to pull out and yank his boxers and jeans back into place, securing his belt last. 

He still keeps his shirt unbuttoned for you, partially because you have a hold on a random corner to keep it so. 

With the absence of your pants hotboxing the truck, you slip back into your dress with a light shudder. You reach past Joel’s leg to retrieve your panties and pull them up your stems to keep his spillage to a minimum. 

“Good?” He asks, a smile slowly growing on your lips. He looked so fucked out. You both probably did. You attempt to fix Joel’s hair, and he takes his thumb to swipe away the saliva trail on your chin. 

“Good.” You agree. Quiet and sapped, but good. 

You force Joel to play a few games of tic-tac-toe on the foggy glass before the storms lighten up, and you can actually see more than a few feet in front of the road. 

You’re picking at the skin around your nails the entire drive home. So many questions compile in your worn-out brain. 

What if your parents noticed you were gone? What if they were awake, waiting for you by the kitchen window, and they see you slip out of Joel’s truck? Try explaining yourself after that one. 

As Joel pulls into his driveway, you observe the lake house is still dark and silent. Empty but also not. Joel’s warm palm is on your leg. It draws your attention away from the window, focusing just on him. 

“Joel?”

“Hm?” 

You shift your jaw before you lay your head back against the headrest, gentle pitter patters of the last rain cloud splashing on the window. 

“What do you do when you’re not working? Like on that Saturday when I talked to you at your truck.” 

He musters up a half-mouth smirk. “Didn’t do much talkin’ that I recall.” 

You roll your eyes and slam a closed fist against his shoulder. It barely rocks his arm, let alone his body. “M’serious.” 

He lets out a long sigh and looks out the windshield. “I do stuff around town or-  for the town.”

He’s so hard to push details out of. He’s like a jammed stapler. 

“Go on. So, like, volunteering?”

Joel rolls his eyes and shrugs. “S’not really like that.”

“That’s what it sounds like.” 

He doesn’t say anything, just sort of starts smiling. “Just like keeping myself busy. But now I have you on my plate.” He teased. Your chest felt warm, knowing he kept a place for you in his hectic life. 

“What sort of stuff are you working on right now?” 

He takes a long, deep breath through his nose. You can hear it whistle before he lets it all out of his mouth, followed by clearing his throat. 

“Y’know that old church past that big field on the east side of Danbury?” 

You mindlessly shake your head and shrug. 

“When I was a kid, I used t’go to that church-”

“For God?” You can’t help but blurt it out in shock. 

He narrows his eyes on you and smirks.

“M’not exactly the Godly type.” You look over his chiseled jawline and beautiful, robust features. You’d have to disagree. He looked like one of God’s favorites. 

“So.. why are you trying to fix an old church?”

Joel slowly smiles, eyes mindlessly on the dashboard of his truck before he answers. “I have a thing for the broken, used, and abandoned.” 

Your head cocks to the side, and you give him a look, pressing him for an honest answer. Or maybe it was an honest answer, and you’re just looking for a better answer. 

He shuffles around in his seat before he continues, hand still aimlessly circling on your thigh. “It wasn’t operable when I was a kid, just rundown, abandoned. There used to be a stained glass mural on the-uh... east-facing wall. So when the sun came up through it, the whole place just- lit up.” He pauses and shifts his focus to you. 

“Now, y’know, it’s fallin’ apart. Dumb kids throwin’ rocks at it and chipping away the glass, age makin’ it all dust-covered.” Joel shrugs and falls back into his closed pit of secrecy. 

“So… you’re fixing up the town.”

A pause. “More or less.” 

“You know how to make a stained glass mural?”

He shakes his head and purses his lips. “No. But I can figure it out.” 

You twist your lips and slowly climb over his lap once more. His eyes watch you curiously while his hands settle on your hips. You cup either side of his neck, fingertips lightly brushing up against messy curls. 

“Can I see this mural you’re working on?” 

He takes a long time to answer. So much dead silence fills the truck you start to feel a bit awkward about asking, like maybe it was too far. 

“Please.” You ask or tell rather. You kiss his lips lightly to try and sway his pending decision. “I won’t judge, I think it’s cool.”

“Cool?” He instantly chirps, cocking an eyebrow up at you. 

“I didn’t say you were cool-”

“You most certainly did.” 

You’re shaking your head, and his pointer finger is prodding into your side to get under your skin. “I said that it’s cool. The stained glass stuff, that is what is cool.” 

He’s already sneering at you. “Whatever you say, princess.” You can feel your cheeks singe with heat. Your hand anxiously scrabbles for the door handle, letting the rusty door creak open for your exit.

Sneakers scrape gravel after you climb out of Joel’s lap, his boots landing suit. 

He smoothes a hand down your dress, your eyes watch before you face him. 

“You gonna be alright?” Joel's face is laced with slight concern, his head cocking past you and looking to the house. 

You shrug and shake your head. “Yeah. We’ve had this fight before, and we’ll have it again.” 

He doesn’t seem satisfied with the answer. He’s teetering on his heels as a stray raindrop lands on your cheek. 

“You can..” He trails off as his thumb comes up and brushes away the droplet, hand lingering before he cups your cheek. “Y’know, can always stay with us if you need a break. M’sure Sarah would love the company.” And so would he. 

Your eyes soften, the gesture warm and safe. You couldn’t even imagine the trouble you’d stir up at Joel’s house. Sure, you could occupy yourself with Sarah when she returned from camping, but what would you and Joel do? Well, besides the obvious…

Your lips curl into a tight smile, not wanting him to reel in his invite out of pure bashfulness. 

“Thank you. I’ll keep it in mind.” Your eyes are on his until he sighs, his shoulders reset into that of a broad lumberjack once more. His eyes looked like they were scheming. It’s fast, like a flash, and before you know it, the look is gone. 

“Take care of yourself.” He leans down and plants a kiss on the crown of your head, thumb skimming up the line of your cheekbone. Suddenly, your heart is racing again. 

You cup his cheeks and pull him down for a real goodbye kiss, two sets of pouted lips against one another, unwilling to let go until you have to. 

---

“What are you doing after work?” You’re on a call with Joel, phone pressed between your ear and hunched shoulder. 

“What are you wearing right now?” He taunts, voice crackling in and out of connection since he was currently working at a house out of town. 

“Ha.” You deadpan, closing the sliding glass door behind you as you step back into the empty lake house, skin sweltering from being in the sun for the better half of the afternoon reading on the dock. “No, really, I could use your help.”

The phone volume shrills in your ear as you hear an electric saw roar to life, Joel cursing repeatedly as he walks away from all the noise.  “Jesus fuckin-.. so damn lou- Can you hear me better?” 

Once the saw dulled, you put the phone back to your ear.  “Yeah.”

“What do you need help with?” His voice sounds a little preoccupied like he’s trying to focus on you, but he’s got a million things running through his head. 

“My window.” You say with a frown, stepping into your bedroom and cursing at the sight of it. “Won’t open. Maybe you can crack it open with some of your handy dandy tools.”

You smile as he musters up a little laugh at your hardware knowledge or lack thereof. “I don’t know about today, baby.” 

“You are the property maintenance guy for our lakehouse now, right? You have a duty to help me.” You tease, stepping back outside with a fresh bottle of water and an apple. Your teeth pierce the skin, and the apple’s juices gush past your lips. 

“Jesus, fine. I’ll be over. I’m almost done.”

You purse your lips to hide your smirk. God, he can’t even see you, but you don’t want him to know he’s got you flustered. 

“Parents are running errands today... If that’s extra incentive for you to hurry up.” 

Joel pauses on the other end. He’s probably got that stupid smirk on his face. “In that case, I’ll leave now.”

“I knew you’d see things my way. Thank youuu.” You playfully coo. 

Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.

An hour later, Joel’s outside your window while you assist from the inside. His face is twisted in concentration, eyes narrowed on a misaligned hinge that he works free with a screwdriver, realigns, then screws tight into its proper place. 

He looks stupid hot so focused like this. Tanned skin, hair a little dusty from work. The veins in his forearm were bulging as he uses pressure to keep the hinge in place. You had to blink a few times to keep yourself from staring. He feels it. 

“Can I help you?” His voice was thick and echoing since he was speaking to you between a glass pane. 

You bite back a smirk and shake your head. 

He pulls off the hinge and nods, pats it a few times before looking at you and giving you a thumbs up. 

You decide to let him come inside before you open the window yourself, twisting at the string of your bikini bottom as you wait. He took in your appearance as soon as he parked in the driveway. 

“What?”

“...Nothin’. Like the outfit.”

“Joel, I was sunbathing. And reading. It wasn’t an intended distraction.” It was. 

“Mhm.”

Joel appears at the entrance of your bedroom. You silently curse yourself for not updating it more. It still looked like a sixteen-year-old fangirl lived in it. 

He appreciates the posters and magazines, checking his handiwork at the window. 

“Wanna give it a go? Open it?” 

You eagerly smile and step up to the window, playfully tugging on it and heaving. 

“I-.. It’s still stuck.” You say with a frown. “Joel, you said you fixed it.”

“What? Shouldn’t be-” He’s already got his hands on the frame and tugs, feeling it easily slip up and open. You’re giggling as his face deadpans. 

“You think you’re so funny.” He taunts, his body turning towards you as he chucks his tools haphazardly on your bed. You’re already attempting to take leaps and bounds away from Joel, but his arms are long, and so are his strides. 

His rough hands capture you by your waist, dusty and calloused fingers ghosting over your warm skin. 

Joel’s lips eagerly greet yours, both of you grinning into the kiss. It’s slow as you let it envelop you. Your heart races. He’s not supposed to be here, your parents could come home any time now.  

You bite down on your lower lip, feeling butterflies in your stomach as he backs you up against your wall, foreheads gently pressed together. His eyes flick behind you, and your head follows his gaze. 

“Boybands, huh?”

You roll your eyes and smirk, fingers moving to the button of his jeans. 

“Shut up, Joel. Leave the boybands out of it.” 

A car door slamming catches both of your attention. Heads whip on instinct, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. Your parents are home, and Joel’s half-hard in your palm. 

“Oh, shit.” You curse. 

Joel’s already moving, grabbing his tools off your bed, and adjusting his jeans. “Lemme handle it.” Your heart pounds as you and Joel greet your parents at the door. They walk in with fresh shopping bags. A cheesy sign for the living room sticks out from one of them. 

“Joel?” They both ask in unison, looking between the man beside you and you in your bikini. Your mother’s face lightly flushes. 

“Hey, Joel! Good to see ya!” Your father sets the bags on the table and grabs a beer from the fridge. You shift on your feet and just let Joel lead. 

Your dad’s oblivious, your mother is more curious

. 

“What are you... What are you doing here?” She tries to ask casually with a little smile. 

Joel raises his screwdriver, strategically keeping the toolbag in front of his lower half. You try not to smirk. 

“Was fixin’ your daughter’s jammed window.”

Your mother's face softens before she smiles. “Y’know, that thing has been jammed for… years. Thank you.”

You give him a tight-lipped smile and nod. “Yes. Thank you, Mr. Miller.” The light glare he sends you means you’ll pay for that one later. Joel clears his throat and nods, too. He turns to you now, and you share a look. 

“Just… let me know if it happens again. Might need to replace the hinge entirely. Small piece of it could be broken, might be why it keeps slippin’ out of place.”

“Yeah. For sure. Thanks.” 

You walk past your mother and open the door from him, but he still stands between your parents. What the hell is he doing?

“While I have you both, I was just tellin’ your daughter ‘bout a business trip I have comin’ up.” Huh? “ It’s not for Miller Contracting. It’s more for the town. I’m gettin’ materials for the old church-”

“Oh, the one with the broken stained glass mural on the east side of town?” Your mother chirps in. “We just drove past it. Just saying how someone needs to fix it up.” Joel’s lightly nodding to your mother’s words, her face soft as she listens to him with curiosity. 

“Well, I was tellin’ her about it ‘cause I could use some help getting materials from a supplier in Houston. I’d normally ask Sarah to tag along and help, but she said she’s got some graduation parties next weekend that she doesn’t wanna miss. Would it be alright if-”

“Oh, of course! Yes, please, if you need her help and she wants to go, she’s all yours.” 

Your eyes are wide, trying not to seem too shocked by Joel secretly sweeping you out from under your parents without them even noticing. 

Joel turns to you, eyebrow cocked.  “That okay with you? Next weekend. Friday to Sunday sort’f thing.” 

A whole weekend alone with Joel? Your insides are bursting, but you have to seem apathetic. 

“Mhm. Sure.” 

Joel sneaks you a private smile. “Really appreciate it. Ya’ll have a good rest of your evenin’.” And with that, he’s out the front door. 

You couldn’t believe what just happened. 

You try to act casual before you make it off to your room, but your mother’s voice pulls you to a halt. 

“Ah-ah, not so fast. Back it up.”

You quietly sigh before coming back to the main part of the kitchen. She narrows her eyes on you and lightly crosses her arms. Your fight with her from yesterday is still fresh, and it makes holding prolonged eye contact difficult. 

“Are you seeing a boy?”

Your eyes widen on instinct. Your dad pauses the sip of his beer and watches you carefully. You try to hold together a poker face as best as you can, but you’re worried your shock is already seeping through. 

“Wha- A boy? Why would you think that?” The laugh you force out sounds too fake. And you’re a terrible liar.  You feel so hot all of a sudden. You wished Joel was still here to talk you in and out of shit. It was a skill of his you’d surely have to learn. 

“Well, we heard the door close really late last night after you walked Joel out. We were just wondering if... You know, there’s a special someone that you’re seeing.” Of course, she hoped you would tie yourself down to someone in Texas. 

“Yeah, did a boy pick you up after dinner or somethin’?” Your father presses, eyes narrowing protectively over you. “You seein’ a boy or not, honey?”

You didn’t want to lie, but you certainly weren’t ready to tell them the truth about you and Joel. 

“Uhm.” Your brain scrabbles for an answer and ultimately chooses poorly. “Sorta. I don’t know. Kind of?” 

Your mother tightens her lips in a smile and nods a little. “We’ll let it go for now, but-”

“God- Mom, please.” You groan and put your face in your hands, closing your eyes and wishing this nightmare was over. 

“But,” she annoyingly emphasizes, “If it gets serious, we want to meet this young man.” She says with a firm nod before turning back to your father and putting away the items in their shopping bags. 

Meet him? They want to meet the boy you’re seeing? What will they do when they find out the boy is actually a full-grown man, a forty-something-year-old with a teenage daughter? And that man was not only their friend and neighbor but Joel fucking Miller. Fuck. Your luck was running out. 

---

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[diorsluv]

feather , part 14

“ i feel so much lighter, like a feather ”

series m. list previous chapter next chapter

( socialmedia!au )

yourusername

liked by _quinnhughes, rutgermcgroarty, jamie.drysdale, and 58,100 others

yourusername so i went to the mall w eddy and mackie and NO ONE TOLD ME THERES TARGET IN MALLS NOW???

tagged: mackie.samo

view all comments

username87 sweetie there’s always been targets in malls

→ yourusername SINCE WHEN TF

_alexturcotte yooo did you buy the teddy bear??

→ yourusername no ethan said there would be no room for it in the car when we drive home 😔

→ _alexturcotte ah damn i was gonna steal it from you

username35 omg they went into one of the expensive clothes stores

username28 if they wore that and tried to break into my house honestly i’d let them

→ username7 FRRRR

edwards.73 you were skipping through the aisles as soon as we walked into target

→ mackie.samo fr we had to pretend like we didn’t know you

→ yourusername i hate you both

jamie.drysdale you know i can see your credit card history right

→ yourusername UHHHHH MOM SAID NO ONE COULD SEE IT BUT ME

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lhughes_06 should’ve brought me, i would’ve paid for u

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→ colecaufield you are insanely dense lil drizzy

username94 it’s so endearing how they’re having so much fun together

jackhughes maybe i should’ve gone with you

→ yourusername no i would’ve had 10x less fun if you came with

→ jackhughes ok buddy 😐😐

bookerburke_ i’ll take you to every mall with a target in it as soon as you get back

liked by yourusername

yourusername

liked by jackhughes, luca.fantilli, trevorzegras, and 99,837 others

yourusername i’m never playing val with these idiots ever again oh my god like THE LACK OF ASSISTS WAS UNBELIEVABLE

view all comments

markestapa the only reason u could even play valorant was bc i let u use my pc so be quiet

→ yourusername yeah and i got you to gold 3

→ markestapa I WAS AT PLAT 2

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rutgermcgroarty such a gamer girl

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dylanduke25 okay well the rest of us were playing on our laptops

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→ markestapa MY LAG WAS SKYROCKETING

trevorzegras play val with me rn i dare you

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→ trevorzegras hey don’t expose me like that 😕

username37 what is this gold, bronze, plat speak i don’t get it

_quinnhughes oh so thats what all that yelling was

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→ _quinnhughes “MOVE MOVE MOVE YOU DUMBASSES”

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bookerburke_ i’ve never played this game before, only cod and overwatch so i dont get the lingo 😭

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edwards.73 i didn’t do THAT bad

→ mackie.samo liar i was looking at your screen the whole time

→ lhughes_06 dude you were dead weight

→ yourusername my kda was 5/0/0 and urs was 0/5/0 we are NOT the same ❌

next chapter notes ) i actually have a grudge against all val players and they all frustrate me to no end (I NEVER GET FUCKING ASSISTS) anywayyy i hope u enjoyed this and im getting back on the grind i promise 🤍🤍

tags: @aliaology @hockeyboysarehot @absolutelyhugh3s

[dreamwritersworld]

The chore. (Sully family x reader)

hey! this is my first story so bear with me this is gonna be a slightly sad one 💕 also this does have scenes from shows i definitely was inspired by and used some of the situation to go based off of the story :)

Being the overlooked sibling was a difficult role to hold. Only time I was ever acknowledged was when I was constantly being yelled at and told what to do even if it wasn’t my fault. I am the twin of lo’ak but with his crazy antics it just makes it even harder to get the approval of my father.

I had to teach myself everything. Observing others actions and having to figure it out. Even with the sly compliments I’ve received, my parents just brushed it off. As you can imagine it only got worse when I got older but when Tuk came it was like a light was brought to me. I was always distant with my siblings no matter how hard I tried to just have a relationship with them they were so tight I couldn’t find any space for me to be included. Dad constantly held me at a higher role saying “y/n you need to be strong! what don’t you get? stop being so reckless and bringing your siblings into things.” Majority of the time I was yelled at for things that weren’t my fault, I just was caught in at the wrong time or blamed for not watching them. It all didn’t seem fair. It was not fair.

I notice how my parents treated me differently from my sisters and to say it didn’t hurt is a complete lie. It hurts all the time, constantly being put on the back burner hurts. Even Lo’ak and Neteyam got off easier than me. I don’t know why my father holds so much resentment to me or why he puts me to the side like I’m a stray but it wasn’t only him I’m silently mad at, it’s my mom too. Why? How could she sit there and witness it , not see it. I can’t even be fully upset I just must sit there and smile and just try better or as dad says “you need to start using your brain and do better, for THIS family!” I just wish I got the dad my sisters got. I wanted the dad who tended to me and my feelings instead of the dad who told me to suck it up saying it wasn’t ok to cry or show emotions.

Now thinking of it, the only time we talk or well when they talk to me is when they order me around or when dad yells at me. It’s become a daily thing that I take care of Tuk every since she was a baby it became my job. Not that I wouldn’t want to take care of my beautiful sunshine , it’s just keeps me tired sometimes but she’s the only one that truly knows me.

Today I actually have to go look over the war and observe from a far with my brothers but that’s in a couple of hours.

I decided to take a break from practicing and teaching Tuk new things for a quick game of hide n seek. This will only improve her quickness and alertness so it’ll help her. Only it’s been a while since I last saw her run in the forest so I whistled out for her, patiently waiting for her whistle back, something I taught her in order to hear that she’s ok! When I did hear a whistle I looked down and quietly went into the bush to catch her. “THE TICKLE MONSTER IS HERE!” Hearing her sweet giggle kept me strong. I need to keep her safe and it was getting harder to be around when she ran off with our other siblings getting into trouble. It was coming near the time to head with the war party so I hopped on my Ikran and flew to where I had to meet my brothers. We WERE spotting until Lo’ak decided to stupidly go down. Neteyam and I quickly went down for him with zero hesitation and tried to get him to get out. “Lo’ak cmon this isn’t funny I’m not kidding. we have to go. you don’t know what your doin-“ I said trying to stop my brother from doing anything more reckless, that was until we got hit.

All I could hear was ringing , trying to gasp for more air feeling blood rush down my body. I slowly opened my eyes seeing my dad take the boys and hearing Lo’ak “Dad! Dad y/n was with us! We have to get y/n!” He’s leaving. He’s leaving me. Knowing I’m down here. “She shouldn’t have been down there either. She’ll find a way home. We have to go.” In that entire moment my heart shatters. I wanted to just give up right then and there, everything that I’ve feared being true, that he didn’t give a single shit about me. I looked down to my side having a slight gash and my arm having a even larger gash. As I was escaping I can feel everything burn and my entire body fighting to even stay awake until I wasn’t. I decided to just take a break before I’d fall off my Ikran from exhaustion. Once I woke up it was already eclipse so I made my way to the healing tent and decided to just stitch myself up in order to avoid the trouble of pulling anyone out or getting more in trouble.

I never did this before. I mean I have observed and learned from a far since no one wants to teach me but stitching is new. Yelping in pain every once and awhile the needle pierced through my skin but once I was done I was only fueled by anger. So much pent up anger I didn’t even know I let go on for that long, just sitting in the silence trying to calm myself down before having to be yelled at once again for something I tried to fix not even that just that but, for not coming home before eclipse even when my own father left me in pain when I needed him. Actually considering the thought of leaving the forest and finally finding a place I can call home. I had already planned an emergency bag…this isn’t the first time I have had these thoughts, but this might actually be my last straw. Only reason why I didn’t leave was because of my baby sister. My thoughts were soon interrupted.

“Y/n you were ordered to SPOT. LOOK AT THE MESS YOU MADE-“ For a moment, for a slight moment. I actually was gonna take all the hits he sent my way but my anger, frustration towards him. towards his voice. towards his stupid orders. towards everything about him. “I’m. Still. Not. Home. I was injured and YOU left me out there to die.” silence was the only thing there as I stared at my parents resisting ever urge to cry tears of anger something I got used to as a kid being told crying was a weakness and it wasn’t ok if I cried, it wasn’t normal. “I-I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t see you, I-I-“ now hearing the ashamed feeling in my dad’s voice, but I didn’t feel bad because I KNOW he saw me bloody lying on the floor. I KNOW he had enough time. I KNOW he didn’t hesitate to leave me. And I KNOW he’s gonna deny it.

“HOW?! I heard it all dad. I heard Lo’ak calling for you to come back for me. I saw you look at me and you were completely fine in leaving me. You’re a liar and a shitty fucking dad….why tf would you leave me?…You are fucking dead to me.” Hearing my mom cut in “y/n no you don’t mean that!” I looked at her smiled and looked back at my dad “I mean every.fucking.word. You’re dead to me “Dad”. You know I have a lot of regrets…in my life but I gotta tell you Dad being your daughter is at the top of my list.” I took a moment to finally see his emotions…he was crying… to this I scoffed and laughed. “oh now you want to cry? yea you’re just draining. You just like going around to suck the spirit out of everyone.”

I try to stop myself , I try to hold back but the more I do the more bottled up feelings come out “no no y/n i see y-“ anger erupts even more “no don’t say that! Stop saying that! You drained me. And it fucking hurts dad. You. Don’t. Love. Me. You left me. When I needed you! And a real father someone who cares would never throw me to the side the way you did…you always had your favorites. You always blamed ME. It didn’t matter if I was there or not I was the one to blame. You don’t even know anything about me. You don’t care about me. You do not love me.” Tears fall. tears that I didn’t even know I had. So I laugh at them. I witness the regret and guilt rush to my parents head realizing how they truly forgot they even had y/n as a daughter instead of just a baby sitter or someone who just followed their orders. This was the moment they realized something inside their daughter was broken and it can never be fixed.

“I gave you all. Every part of me, I have given to you. Hoping that one day you’d open your arms to me and until that moment I held a patient smile. I know now that, the idea I dreamed of will never happen. Even when I would TRY talking to you, all your ever did was push me away. So while I did everything you asked of me and more. You considered me the chore, the job you didn’t want to do. Don’t worry now, I do not want your excuses because up until you left me to die, you WERE my everything.”

I walked out but not without noticing my siblings on the side I could see the realization hit their faces, realizing that they too forgot they had a sister. The sister that took care of Tuk, handled everything she was dealt with, and more importantly the sibling they also pushed away, the sister they didn’t even want to hear stories about when Tuk was talking. Then I see Tuk my sunshine, I smile taking in her baby face one last time.

Then I rush to “home” to get my bag that I packed, I’ve been waiting for this very moment, just waited for the bandaid to rip. I hoped that a moment like this would never occur, something in my heart broke knowing that it didn’t matter anymore it was bound to happen. I called for my Ikran, crying my eyes out realizing this was really it, and that I would have to tear away from all I knew in order to finally grow and be happy. That was until I felt a tug on my leg stopping me from getting on my Ikran. Tuk. “please y/n don’t leave. Don’t leave me. You have taught me everything please y/n don’t leave home. Or just take me with you.” My heart breaks all over again looking at the child that I practically raised even if she always returned to my parents arms at night or held by them in the evening. She’s the only thing that held me here, my baby sister, my sunshine. “Tuk I see you sister but, I can’t take you with me, I can’t let you leave your home.” I can only hear her heart shatter even more. “No sister. you will take me. your all I need right now. It’s always been us please. I won’t do anything without you.” I look back and forth contemplated for a little and then…agreed. I held her close and wrapped a blanket around her, preparing for the ride.

Again this is my first story so please be understanding! :) hope you enjoyed it 💕

[holylulusworld]

Biggest grump

Summary: Your best friend’s friend is not as annoying as you believed.

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: banter, language, mentions of pegging and anal play (they play a game, okay), snowed in, enemies to lovers, fluff

<;< Part 1

“So…how does this game work?” Bucky tries to buy himself some time. He doesn’t want to answer your questions. Especially when it comes to the girls he dated lately.

“Barnes don’t act as if you never played truth or dare before,” you slap his thigh. “Because you tried to trick me, I’ll ask you first.”

“That’s not fair,” he grumbles. Bucky looks at the glasses you placed on the coffee table. Drinking is out of the question for tonight.

“I don’t care.” You lean closer and stick your tongue out. “Fight me!”

He sighs deeply. “Fine. Whatever. I didn’t want to play this stupid game in the first place.”

You giggle at his pained expression. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“When you first met Steve, did you already know you’ll become friends?”

“He was a weak and sick boy,” Bucky smiles at the memory. “But he had guts. I first saw him when he was in trouble. Three boys tried to rough him. Steve stood his ground. A damn tough boy. I knew we will get friends right away.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet.” You swoon. “I met him when he was all grown. I wish we grew up together.”

“My turn,” Bucky grins. You swallow thickly, fearing he will ask you embarrassing questions. “What's a secret you've never told anyone?”

“A secret? Hmm…” You ponder. “Oh, I know!” Bucky leans a little closer when you grip his arm. “I stole a lace panty when I was sixteen. It was red, and my mom didn’t want to buy it for me. I wanted to impress my boyfriend.”

“You naughty girl.” He grins. “Did he like it?”

You sigh and shake your head. “He broke up with me after I told him I wanted to wait a little longer. He was clumsy and I didn’t like how he groped me.”

“His loss.”

“What?” You blink a few times.

“What?” Bucky clears his throat. “I mean, if he messed up it’s his loss.”

“I enjoyed wearing it, though. I sometimes buy underwear only for myself. I love to feel sexy.” You run your fingertips up and down his arm.

Bucky swallows thickly. “Your turn,” he breathes out. “Shoot me with your best shot, doll.”

“Hmm…Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“What's something you're glad your mum doesn't know about you?” You ask. “Tell me everything about your dirtiest secret.”

“You want the dirt, huh?” Bucky flashes you a smirk. He wrinkles his forehead. “I let a girl peg me once.”

“No!” You slap his thigh. “Really? Who was it? Was it good? Did you like it? I didn’t take you for a guy letting the girl take the lead.”

“If it’s the right girl,” he whispers lowly. His fingertips graze your cheek and instinctively lean into his touch. “I let her have control once in a while.”

“Did you like it?” You press on.

“It was…different.” He answers honestly. “Not bad or anything. But she was a little impatient and uh…it wasn’t that good.”

“I guess she didn’t do it right,” you nod to yourself. “I let a guy finger my ass while he fucked me from behind. It was hot, and I came so hard.”

“Y/N…we should talk about boundaries. No more questions about sex,” Bucky suddenly says. His pants feel a little too tight and he doesn’t want to cross a line.

“Aw, don’t be a spoilsport, Bucky,” you whine. “Your turn.”

“Truth or dare?” He asks.

“Truth.”

“Have you ever cheated on someone?”

“No. Never. If I love someone, I do it with all my heart.” You grab one of the glasses to take a large sip. “If the love is gone break up. Don’t cheat. If he doesn’t fuck you right, talk. Don’t cheat.”

“You’re a good girl too.” His eyes drop to your lips. He whispers your name as you are engrossed in watching his long lashes flutter.

“My turn,” you stop Bucky before he can ask more. “Truth or dare.”

“Truth.”

“What's the strangest dream you've had?”

“Dream…hmmm…” He closes his eyes and tries to recall the dreams he remembers. “I remember one dream. I had horns, and my skin was on fire.”

“You dreamed that you were the devil?” You ask.

“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “Steve was there too. He was wearing a suit made of cookies. And then there was this girl. She was wearing wings and looked like an angel. But she begged me to kiss her.”

You lick your lips. “Your turn.”

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“What's your worst habit?”

“I fall in love with the wrong guy every time,” you dip your head to look him deep in the eyes.

“Do I need to break someone’s face?”

You laugh at his question. “No. I haven’t been with someone for a while. So, truth or dare.”

“Dare.” His reply surprises you. “Come on, challenge me, doll. Do you want me to jump from the rooftop or empty the bottle on ex?”

“No.” You scoot a little closer to Bucky. He watches you place your hand on his chest eyes widen when you whisper the words in his ear. “I want you to kiss me.”

“Doll…Y/N…I can’t. I…Stevie will kill me.” You smirk at his nervous state. Bucky wants nothing more than kiss you, but his best friend will flay him alive if he dares to put his hands on you.

“Bucky,” you whisper. Bucky gasps when you straddle his lap and cup his face. He tries to protest but you claim his lips, making a move before he can chicken out.

“Doll…” he mumbles against your lips. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“Kiss me again.”

You wrap your arms around his neck to kiss him deeply. He slips his tongue inside, swiping over your tongue. “Stevie…will kill me.”

“Who do you think made sure that we end up stuck at his cabin?”

Bucky looks at you in his lap. “Stevie…”

“The one and only. Now...do you want to see my red lace panties or do you want to play another game.”

>> Part 3

Tags in reblog.

[allthingsfangirl101]

*The Basketball Coach – Steve Harrington

Masterlist

Warnings: sneaking around kink, protected sex, rough sex, public sex, single-mom, teen pregnancy, language

I sat in the stands, my eyes on the coach. My son and I moved to Hawkins for a new start the summer before he started his junior year of high school. We were well aware of what happened here about 10 years ago, but things were back to normal.

During our first week, my son met some of our neighbors' kids and immediately hit it off with them. He ended up spending the night with a few of them and playing basketball. While he did that, I needed to blow off some steam. After a whole week of moving, cleaning, and setting up our new house, I decided to go to a bar on Saturday night.  Usually, when I go to a bar, I drink alone at the counter. That night, I met someone.

I started talking and flirting with a gorgeous guy my age named Steve Harrington. Four drinks later, we were making out in the bathroom. We were interrupted so we finished in his car. Before I left, he asked me for his number.

We spent the next week flirt-texting each other. When I texted the guy from the bar, I felt like a teenager again. That weekend, he practically begged to see me again. Not that I minded. I was dying to see him again.

Things went like that for a month - flirting all week followed by a heavy weekend where we fulfilled everything we promised while sexting. After that month, Steve told me he wanted more than just a hook-up.

I told him about Johnny and my concerns about dating a guy and he was completely understanding. We started dating but kept it "lowkey". I use quotes because nothing was lowkey about what we did when we were together. We just didn't tell anyone.

When the school year started, Johnny joined the basketball team. He came home talking about his awesomely funny coach, Coach Harrington. I was stunned. The guy I've been sleeping with all summer was now coaching my son's basketball team.

I freaked out to him, but he instantly reassured me. He said that we could keep dating without anyone, especially Johnny, finding out. I wasn't sure at first, but after the first game, I realized one very special thing - sneaking around was incredibly hot.

As the team ran into the locker room, I walked over to the sidelines. I waited until he passed me before moaning, "Good game, Coach."

"Fuck," he moaned as he froze. He looked over and bit his bottom lip as he scanned my body. "I want nothing more than to take you under these bleachers and ravish you until they call the cops because of all the screaming."

"Calm down, hot stuff," I smirked. "Can't have one of your players see their coach fucking one of their moms."

The butterflies in my stomach went crazy because of the way he was looking at me. He chewed on his bottom lip and scanned my body. He took a step closer to me, no longer caring about anyone seeing us.

"There's something I need to show you in the back of my car," he said, his voice low and dark.

"You know," I paused, "Johnny did drive himself."

He grabbed my hand and pulled me out the side door. I had to jog to keep up with him as he led me through the empty employee parking lot. He unlocked his car and I climbed in. I laid on my back as he crawled in.

I couldn't help but giggle as he closed the door behind him. Unable to wait any longer, I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him to me. Steve smirked before crashing his lips onto mine.

We let out moans as we undressed each other. I caused Steve to groan as I tore off his polo. He kept himself as close to me as possible and pulled my shirt over my head. He glanced over my chest and moaned.

He didn't go back to kissing me. Instead, he tore my skirt down to my knees. I smirked as he sat up, letting me kick it the rest of the way off. Without breaking eye contact, Steve yanked my underwear down. As he took off his pants and boxers, I reached into the pouch behind the front seat and pulled out our hidden supply of condoms.

Steve sat back and waited for me to put it on him. He loved it when I put the condom on him. He leaned his head back, moaning as I slipped it on. The second I was done, Steve crashed his lips to mine. I ran my fingers through his hair as our bodies rubbed against each other.

I arched my back as Steve roughly pushed into me. He broke the kiss and smirked when he saw my face all scrunched from the pressure.

"Oh, Steve," I moaned. He cut me off by leaning down and smashing his face between my breasts. I let out a girlish giggle as he slipped his tongue under my bra.

"Fuck," he cursed under his breath. I gasped when he pulled out of me and sat up, quickly bringing me with him. Steve grabbed me and roughly brought me onto his lap. He guided my hips until he was making me ride him.

"Holy shit, baby," I moaned as I arched my back.

"Why does it feel like it's been forever since we. . ." He cut himself off when I brought my hips down rougher.

Our orgasms built the longer I was on top of him. He pressed his hands to my shoulder blades as he brought my chest to his face. I moaned as he did what I loved - licked me.

"Baby," he growled. I gasped when he laid us down without pulling out of me. He took back control instantly. The longer he had control, the closer we got to finishing. Until my phone started ringing.

"Shit," I gasped. "That's Johnny's ring."

Steve sighed and pulled out of me but didn't pull away from my breast as I answered my phone.

"Hey, sweetie," I greeted, trying to sound normal.

"Hey, Mom," Johnny said. I almost didn't hear him because I was focused on Steve paying extra attention to my chest. "I'm heading over to Mike's house. I just wanted to call you since I didn't see you after the game."

"Sorry," I said, forcing myself to look away from the veins sticking out of Steve's neck as he chewed on the skin peeking out from under my bra. "I needed to run a few errands while I'm out."

"Okay," he said simply. "Well, I'm heading to Mike's."

"Thanks for letting me know, baby. Have fun with Mike and make sure you're home before tomorrow night. Your grandparents want to take us to dinner."

"Will do. Love you."

"Love you too."

I hung up the phone and looked at Steve. "Good news," I smirked.

He hummed as he slowly pulled away from my chest. I moaned as he started rubbing his chest against mine.

"What's the news, baby girl?" He asked under his breath as he started kissing my neck.

"Johnny is spending the night at Mike's house," I said shakily.

"Which means you're going to be all alone," he grunted.

"Mmhmm. Care to accompany me?"

Steve crashed his lips down roughly onto mine. I instantly slipped my tongue into his mouth, exploring as much as I could. He bit my lip and sucked on it before slowly breaking the kiss.

"Can't leave a gorgeous woman like you home all alone."

* * * * *

The second I opened the door, Steve spun me around and pulled me into his chest. We backed into the house, never pulling out of the kiss as we made our way inside. We didn't stop until Steve pushed me up against the handrail that led up the stairs.

With a grunt, Steve broke the kiss and picked me up so my legs were wrapped around his waist. As he carried me to my room, I turned my attention to his neck. He moaned as I chewed on his veins that always poked out when he got turned on.

I smirked when Steve roughly dropped me onto the bed. I chewed on my bottom lip as he instantly climbed on top of me. Steve started chewing on my neck, switching between kissing and licking, as he started grinding his body down onto mine.

In minutes, our clothes were scattered around the room. We tucked under my covers as we wrapped up the foreplay and got into things. Something felt oddly familiar as we switched from him being on top to me being on top. That, of course, didn't last long though. Steve hated not being in control. He could only handle it for so long. And I loved it when he took control.

I gasped as he quickly rolled us over so he was on top again. Steve roughly pushed into me, both of us moaning.

"Fuck, Steve," I moaned. "I love it when you get rough, baby."

"Holy shit, sexy," Steve moaned as he pushed further into me. "This is exactly what I needed."

There it was again - that feeling of familiarity.

I pushed it aside as I focused on moaning his name and doing the other things he liked in bed to help keep him going.

"Give in, baby girl," he groaned through his teeth. "I know you want to."

"Sounds to me like you're the one who wants to. . ." Steve made me choke on my words when he leaned down and wrapped his mouth around my nipple.

"Fuck, Steve," I moaned as I arched my back, pushing my chest further against his face. I felt him smirk as he started to suck on me.

"Moan for me," he growled against my breast.

"Oh, Steve!" I repeated his name as he pushed further and rougher into me. "Keep going, Steve."

"Perfect, baby," he growled. "Do it again."

"Oh, Steve!"

We let out matching moans as we both gave in. Steve leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips before gently pulling out of me and lying next to me. Steve slid his hand under my body and pulled me into his side. I smiled as he fixed the blanket around us. I fell asleep to Steve gently rubbing my bare back.

The next morning, I woke up to the sun shining through the small crack in my curtains. The second I was awake, that familiar feeling came back. I tried to push it away, but it kept bugging me.

For some reason, something about our hook-up last night brought back some memories. I looked over my shoulder to see Steve asleep next to me. I carefully got out of my bed and searched for my clothes. I was slipping on my underwear when all of a sudden, it hit me.

De jà vü.

I quickly got dressed and spent the rest of the morning doing random chores around the house. I was loading the dishwasher when I felt him wrap his arms around my waist. I bit my lip when he started sucking on my neck.

"Last night was fun," he moaned against my shoulder. All I could do was moan in response. "But I'm kinda mad at you."

"Why?" I whispered. Steve grabbed my waist and slowly spun me toward him. We were suddenly in an intense staring contest as he grabbed my thigh and wrapped my leg around his waist.

"I'm mad," he groaned, "because I hate waking up alone."

"Sorry," I gasped as he started nibbling on my ear. "I was. . . I woke up and. . . Fuck."

Steve laughed as he picked me up and carried me to the couch. We spent the rest of the morning in a heavy make-out session. He slid his hand under my shirt and started massaging my breast as our tongues danced.

"Steve," I moaned into his mouth. "Baby."

"What?" He pouted as he broke the kiss.

"Johnny will be home soon," I said, out of breath. The lust in Steve's eyes slowly went away. He reached down and moved some hair out of my face.

"You're right," he whispered. "I should get going."

Steve hesitated before finally climbing off of me. He grabbed my hand and helped me to my feet. Without letting go of my hand, Steve walked to the front door. He turned around and pulled me into his chest. I smiled as he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck as we got into the kiss. Steve finally broke the kiss, both of us breathing heavily.

"I'll call you later," he whispered.

"Not tonight," I said out of breath. "My parents are taking me and Johnny to dinner."

"Okay," he smiled. "What about tomorrow?"

"Johnny and a couple of other boys from the team are going to see that new movie," I smirked.

"That gives us two hours."

"Three, actually."

"Three hours?" He asked.

"They're going to get burgers before the movie."

"Perfect," Steve smirked as he pulled me in closer. "Three hours of privacy for us to do naughty things."

"Naughty things?" I chuckled.

"Adult things," he changed.

"Adult things," I repeated as I struggled not to laugh. "I know you spend your days talking to teenagers, but angsty Harrington isn't really sexy."

"Fine."

I gasped when Steve pushed me up against the door and started kissing my chest. I leaned my head back against the door as he used his tongue.

"Steve," I stuttered. He licked up my chest, across my collarbone, and up my neck.

"Three hours for us to fool around, make out, massage each other," he listed off, "and my personal favorite; fuck."

* * * * *

As much as I tried to resist it, I couldn't. I had to talk to him about this. It was too big.

With it being Monday, I knew that Steve didn't have practice. He wanted his players to start the week off without having practice to distract them from school. I also knew that Johnny went to his lab partner's house after school on Mondays to get a headstart on their weekly chem packet.

I got to the high school right as the bell rang. I didn't bother to wait for the students to clear out. I got out of my car and headed to his office. When I got there, I stopped.

How would he react to this?

It could go really well, but it could also go horribly wrong and I could lose the one person who has made me happier than I've been in years.

"Y/N? Is everything okay? Where's Johnny?"

"He's fine," I stuttered a little taken aback by the panic in Steve's voice. "He doesn't know I'm here."

"Oh?" Steve asked as he stood up. "Then what are you doing here?"

"I need to tell you something," I said under my breath as I stood in his office doorway.

Steve quickly walked over and closed the gap between us. He grabbed my hands, pulling me more into his office, and shutting the door. "What is it, baby?"

"I figured something out."

Steve locked his office door before pulling me over so we were sitting on the couch. "What did you figure out?"

I looked up at him, unable to approach the topic. "I was thinking about the night I got pregnant with Johnny," I started.

"Okay," he said, reaching up and tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. "What about that night?"

"It was a Halloween party," I explained. "I was drunk and so was Johnny's dad. It turns out. . . He had gotten into a pretty bad fight with his girlfriend that night. So bad they broke up."

My heart beat against my chest as I waited to see if he was figuring it out.

"What umm. . . What costume was he wearing?"

Yep, he was figuring it out. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

"Joel Goodson from Risky Business."

"Oh," he whispered. I bit my lip, trying to stop the tears as Steve focused on something on the other side of his office.

"You're Johnny's dad, Steve," I said, my voice breaking, "I just want to say that you don't have to get involved. In fact, the only reason I'm telling you is because I figured you had the right to know. But, again, I don't expect you to get involved. If you need some time then take it. Call me when you're ready to talk."

I started to get up, but Steve pulled me back. The second I was sitting, he pressed his lips to mine. I moaned as he pushed me back, instantly hovering over me. Our lips and bodies began our usual routine of pleasing each other.

Steve broke the kiss before things could get too heated. He leaned back but stayed close to me.

"I'm glad you told me," he whispered. "I know there are a lot of logistics to figure out, but there is one thing I can say right now to help relieve some of your stress."

"What?" I asked with my stomach basically in my throat.

"I want to be involved."

"You do?" I stuttered, my voice breaking. Steve smiled at me as he moved some hair out of my face.

"Of course I do, baby," he whispered. I let out a small moan as Steve kissed me again.

"There's one more thing," I said, stopping things before they could get started.

"What is it, baby girl?"

"Johnny deserves to know who his father is. All his life, I've said that I didn't know who it was, that it was a one-night stand. But now that I know, now that you know, and now that we're together, he deserves to be involved. I mean. . . We're a family, Steve. I want us to be one. At least, I want us to try."

Steve leaned in and delicately pressed his lips to mine. When he broke the kiss, he pressed his forehead to mine.

"I want us to be one too," he whispered. He smiled as he added with a small chuckle, "He's my son. Johnny is my son. Of course I want to be involved, Y/N. You've done an amazing job but you shouldn't have to do this on your own. Whenever you're ready to tell him about us and me being his father, I will be there."

* * * * *

After a lot of discussion and debate with Steve, we figured that Johnny was old enough to handle his mom sleeping with his coach. He definitely deserved to know that his coach was actually his father. We just needed to be gentle about how we told him. I decided that it was probably best for me to tell him alone. Steve didn't fight me on it. He told me to call him and let him know how it goes.

After a lot more debating with myself, I decided to tell him at dinner. I was going to start by telling him about me and Steve secretly dating. Depending on how he responded to that, then I'd tell him what I figured out about Steve.

"Hey, Mom?" Johnny called from the other room. "What's for dinner?"

I looked up when he walked into the family room. "Actually," I cleared my throat, "I was thinking we'd go out for dinner."

"What?" Johnny laughed. "We never go out unless it's a birthday or something. Are we celebrating something?" I stood up and wrapped my arms around myself. "Mom? Is something wrong?"

"No," I said clearing my throat. I let out a small laugh when my son looked at me like he knew there was something I wasn't telling him. "Alright," I sighed, giving in. "There is something I need to talk to you about. It's nothing bad. We just need to talk about it."

"Okay," he said slowly. "I'll go grab my coat."

Maybe going to Johnny's favorite restaurant was a little overkill. We were halfway through our entrées when Johnny couldn't take it anymore.

"Mom," he sighed, putting his fork down. "Can you just tell me what's going on already? It's. . . It's killing me."

"I'm sorry," I sighed. "There are a couple of things I wanted to. . . Needed to talk to you about. They aren't bad, just. . . Complicated."

"Okay," Johnny said, shifting in his seat. "Can you just blurt it out? Might be easier on both of us."

"I've been seeing your basketball coach," I said quickly. I held my breath waiting for his reaction. He looked down at his food as he processed it. Nervous, I began to explain myself. "Look, I didn't mean. . . When we first got together, I had no idea he was your basketball coach. We met at a bar and immediately hit it off. We dated all summer. At first, I kept it from you because I wasn't sure how you'd react to me dating. And then, when I found out Steve was your coach, I knew how you'd react."

"No, you don't," he said, sounding like he was still thinking.

"What?"

"You don't know how I'd react," he said, finally looking at me.

"I don't?"

"Don't get me wrong," he said with a teasing smile, "it's weird. Like really weird. But can I ask you one question?"

"Of course, baby," I said quickly. "What do you want to know?"

"Does Coach Harrington make you happy?"

My heart jumped into my throat at his question. "He does," I said, my voice dropping. "He has made me feel things I haven't felt in a long time."

"Ew," he teased.

"That's not what I meant," I said quickly.

"I know," he laughed. "I'm just messing with you, Mom. But, honestly, I'm glad he makes you happy. You've spent my entire life taking care of me. If Coach Harrington takes care of you, then I'm okay with it."

"You're amazing," I gushed.

"Mom," he groaned.

"Sorry," I chuckled. "I mean it, Johnny. Most teenagers would hate the idea of their mom dating their coach. It really doesn't bother you?"

"No," he shrugged. "I like Coach Harrington. He's awesome."

That was extremely reassuring.

"That's good to hear," I whispered, "because there is something else I need to tell you."

"Okay," he said as he went back to eating his dinner.

"You know how I wasn't sure who your father is," I started this news slower.

"Yeah," he shrugged.

"Well. . . I know now."

Johnny's head snapped up. "You do?" He stuttered.

"I figured it out," I said, my voice soft.

"Who is it?" He asked, scooting closer to the table. I smiled at him, suddenly nervous to tell him.

"It's Coach Harrington," I whispered.

"What?"

"It was Steve that I met that night at the Halloween party," I further explained.

"Wait," Johnny stuttered. "So you're saying. . . Coach Harrington is. . . My dad?"

"He is."

He cleared his throat before asking, "Does he know?"

"He knows," I smiled, my eyes filling with tears. "In fact, I was with him when I figured it out. He offered to be here when I told you but I thought it would be better. . ."

"Does he want to be involved?" Johnny cut me off. He cleared his throat before asking, "I mean. . . Does he want to be a part of our family?"

I reached over and gently placed my hand on his. He looked up at me and my heart sank when I saw the tears threatening to spill.

"That is exactly what he wants, sweetheart," I whispered. "If you want that too."

* * * * *

I walked into Johnny's basketball practice, my heart jumping into my throat when I saw my son talking to Steve. It felt hard to breathe as I watched them talk. I wrapped my arms around myself, not wanting to interrupt them. Steve caught me over Johnny's shoulder. He said something to him before nodding my way.

"Mom!" Johnny yelled as he ran over to me. I laughed as he wrapped me in a hug.

He's never done this. He's never been affectionate with me. Especially somewhere his friends could see him hugging his mother. Ever since I told him about Steve being his father, he's been like this more with me. He's also been eager to go to practice.

"How was practice?" I asked as I returned the hug.

"Awesome, as always," he laughed. Suddenly, his smile dropped. "Umm. . . Mom?"

"What is it, hun?"

"Can we. . . I was talking to Coach. . . I invited him over for dinner," he finally got out. "Is that okay?"

"Of course, baby," I smiled.

His demeanor changed as he got nervous. "I just thought it would be good for him to join us at dinner a couple of times since he's. . ."

"Your father," I finished for him. "How is that, by the way? I mean, how are you feeling?"

"Okay, I guess," he shrugged. "It's a little weird but I've always liked him. It might take me some time before I'm ready to call him Dad."

"You don't have to start calling him that," I said quickly. "At least not right away. Take your time, sweetheart."

"Hey, you two."

"Hi. . . Coach," Johnny said, glancing at me.

"What are you guys talking about?" Steve asked glancing at me.

"Johnny was just telling me that he invited you to dinner tonight," I said. "Anything sound good to either of you?"

"Pizza," Johnny said instantly. Steve and I shared a look.

"Nothing homemade?" I offered.

"Nah," Johnny said before jogging to the locker room. I couldn't help but follow him with my eyes. I gasped when Steve stepped up behind me.

"He's okay," he leaned over and whispered in my ear.

"Is he?" I didn't bother to turn around.

Steve grabbed my waist and spun me around. He reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. He glanced around the empty gym before leaning down and pressing his lips to mine. He broke the kiss and kept his face inches from mine.

"He's fine," he reassured. "I talked to him before practice. Or should I say, he talked to me."

"He did?" I whispered. "What did he say?"

"He told me that you told him about us and about me being his father," Steve explained. "All he said was that he wanted to make sure that I would be around for a while."

"And what did you say?"

Steve smiled as he pulled me closer. He leaned down and pressed his lips delicately to mine. I moaned softly as I deepened the kiss. We broke apart, both of us breathing heavily.

"I said that I would be in his and your life for the rest of mine."

"What did he say?" I asked as I played with the collar of his shirt. I looked up to see him smiling at me.

"He said that he wanted me to be in your life for the rest of his life," Steve whispered. "And he said that he sees how happy I make you and how he would get me fired and destroy my life if I ever broke your heart."

I couldn't help but laugh. "I'm sorry," I giggled. "He shouldn't have threatened you like that."

"It's okay," he shrugged. "It's kinda sweet how protective he was of you."

"He's a good kid," I blushed.

"He's a fantastic kid," Steve chuckled. His smile softened. "All thanks to you. Y/N, you did an amazing job with him. And I hope you know that I will do everything I can to give you and Johnny a good life. I know I wasn't there to help you through the hard years, but I'm here now and I want to be here for the rest of my life. I love you, Y/N."

My breath got caught in my throat. Overcome with happiness, I grabbed his face and smashed my lips onto his. I felt him smile as he tightened his arms around my waist and deepened the kiss. I broke the kiss, both of us breathing heavily.

"I love you too, Steve."

Part 2

[soleilars]

hii! could u do a leo valdez x nyx!reader ? could be headcannons or short story whichever u prefer :) take ur time and thank you!!

IT’S BEEN SO LONG, IT’S BEEN SO LONG, MAYBE WE’RE FIREPROOF

summary: leo valdez frightens everything he likes. and he’s so so so scared of you.

pairing: leo valdez x nyx!reader

a/n: i hope you like this!<3 i wrote it so quick idk what happened tbh

it wasn’t like leo disliked you. he didn’t know you this well to have this kind of judgement about you in the first place. he just… didn’t wanted to cross paths with you. like, ever. again, he didn’t dislike you. he’s just so leo about that. the one time he decided to play capture the flag after weeks of not playing, he got taken down in the first 10 minutes into the game by no one else than you. he got angry at first, thinking that someone had hit him by mistake because he wasn’t hurt or dizzy, he just fell to the ground with his face hitting the earth. you made sure not to inflict pain in anyone during the game, so to say the least it was an ego boost for you to strike again with such efficient. when for leo it was certainly a motive for never play again after his pity dignified performance. and to be honest you scared him. he was just so amazed with your beauty, which seemed to get amplified by the night time, that he felt physically incapable of talking to you.

this probably justifies his reaction when the one day he decided to go out of bunker 9 after several days in with the minimum amount of human contact, he saw you coming in his way. broken sword in hands and a pleading face.

no, no, no, no, no, hell no.

would it be ridiculous of him to run? to simply turn away and run? pretend he didn’t saw you because he was sure you didn’t saw him? gods, he hopped not because that’s what he did. he went straight to the way he came from and started looking at the shelves, pretending to be busy with something. you came in anyway, after all the need of a repair was evident and you were getting impatient. ‘this kind of gold is roman stuff. most of us aren’t specialised at this and we wouldn’t risk breaking or causing any extra damage to your weapon. i recommend you find, leo. he’s more used to this kind of stuff than us, really.’ jake manson, the cabin’s counsellor had told you.

“hey, is someone in here?” your voice send shivers through leo’s spine. he cursed himself as he came out of his, not so, hidden spot.

“uhm, yeah? who are you?”

as you introduced yourself and explained your problem leo could feel himself getting more and more warm. the mixed feelings started to get to him in the form of an alarm sounding in his head that sounded like ‘dangerous!!!!!hot, but dangerous!!!!!! would look stunning… while killing you!!!’

“sorry, but are you okay? you seem… pale.”

leo was surprised to find himself more nervous than usual. and believe, he’s very used to being nervous around pretty girls, and he’s also very used with being scared. now, the combination of both of those? nah, he’s an absolute mess. it takes him a few seconds, or maybe minutes? to go back to his ‘normal’.

“whatcha saying? sorry, i didn’t understand”

“i was saying that i need to fix my gold sword. you can do that for me?” you cried “please, your half siblings said you’re the only one that works with it”

“yeah yeah, sure. hand me the thing and i’ll see what i can do”

after a week your sword was almost new again. lighter and sharper. in the meantime, you asked leo to let you watch him work, mostly so you could try to understand how to fix it new time or tips on the most efficient way to keep them glossy and not dull. by chance, leo started to get more comfortable around you and vice-versa. lazy mornings, calm afternoons and busy nights. if bunker 9 wasn’t so far from camp for sure the two of you would get in trouble from noise making past midnight. leo joked that by the night time you should help him, because your mom being who she is you’re supposed to be the most productive in the room. you laughed at his suggestion, but ended up helping him with his projects the minute the sun sets.

his work was so good that you ended up taking your dagger, your helmet, your other sword, and another dagger for his treats. you may have made the blade of your daggers go blind and getting the pegasus to kick your helmet, but that doesn’t really matter does it?

[honeygrahambitch]

High school AU

Hannibal was a couple years older than Will but the reason they shared some classes was that Will was so intelligent that he shared some classes with Hannibal.

They wouldn't talk much other than contradicting each other on different subjects. Philosophy class would be everyone's nightmare because not even the teacher could stop their debates that would often continue during the breaks.

One day Will doesn't come to school. The next day as well. And so on for a week. Since Will had no friends, there was no one Hannibal could ask about Will's state. Hannibal had many friends or more precisely, he knew a lot of people but none of them had an incredible opinion regarding Will.

He was bored and slightly concerned that the only fascinating student in the whole institution was missing.

He knew where Will was living. He had followed him a few times just out of pure curiosity. And because he wanted to learn more about Will. So he was aware Will's family was poor, compared to his uncle Roberto. Hannibal did not give much importance to the amount of money people owned, what mattered more were their intellect and manners. And he had to admit, Will was an asshole but he was sharp. And beautiful. And he awakened something in him.

After overthinking it for seven hours, Hannibal found himself walking towards Will's house. He would knock at the door, offer Will his notes and then leave. All he needed was to have his curiosity satisfied.

So that's what he did. He knocked. Once. Then again. And then he just waited awkwardly on the doorstep. When the door finally opened, he didn't have the time to step back when a tall man grabbed him by the collar and threw him to the ground, making him roll down the porch steps like a ragdoll.

Hannibal tried to get up as soon as possible and dust himself off as if his biggest problem was his appearance.

"Dad, get back inside."

"I told you that if I see a Jehovah's witness again, I am kickin' his ass down the stairs."

"Let me deal with that. The game is starting anyway."

That last sentence convinced the huge man to go back in, the "Jehovah's witness" already forgotten.

Will jumped down the stairs and measured Hannibal from head to toes. He was relieved to see him standing on his feet. Nothing looked broken.

"Sorry about that."

"No apology needed, you didn't do anything." Hannibal said, still taken aback by what had happened a few seconds ago. His dignity was slightly harmed.

"Your lip." Will said and pulled out a handkerchief from his back pocket. He reached out to tap it on the trail of blood that was flowing from the corner of Hannibal's thin lips.

"That's nothing." Hannibal said. "Anyway, I wanted to bring you my notes. I figured you must have been sick since you missed so many classes." He added and reached for his backpack.

"You shouldn't be here." Will said. His expression was unreadable but his tone sounded like a warning.

"A 'thank you' would be enough."

"Seriously, my dad he...he is not really sober right now. That's not how he usually behaves."

Hannibal could tell that was definitely a lie. That was for sure how he usually behaved.

"Honestly? Maybe he is right, I should get a better suit. Maybe I do look like a Jehova's witness." Hannibal said, trying to save Will from giving him any explanation that might make him embarrassed.

He laughed.

"People are asking about you."

Will laughed again. "By 'people' you mean that you are asking. Who else even noticed I'm gone?"

"Classes are not entertaining enough."

"I think you will have to be bored for some more. My mom got sick and my dad can't take care of her since he...yeah, so..."

"You are in charge of everything around the house."

"Just for a while. She is already getting better."

"If you need anything, I could-"

"You don't even know how to hold a broom."

"Asshole."

"I am indeed. And you came all the way here to bring me your notes and get your ass kicked."

"I was really curious what would happen if I came here."

"Was it entertaining enough?"

"Yes." Hannibal replied. It had been indeed eventful. No one had kicked his ass in ages. Humbling even. But surprisingly that was not what was bothering him. "But seriously, if you need more notes or to catch up with classes, pay me a visit. My address..."

"I appreciate that. And I know where you live."

Hannibal nodded. Of course he knew.

[footballfanficwriter]

Can you do part 2 of absent (mbappe story)

Absent pt 2

Summary:where Kylian apologizes for being absent at his son's match

Kylian's POV

I wake up from my dream and look around and I realise I'm in one of the guest rooms remembering the events of the previous night I go to the bathroom and brush my teeth, then walk to my room where Théo and Y/n are sleeping

Sighing and walking to my closet I get a new set of clothes to change in and go to the kitchen to make breakfast for y/n and Théo

I start off by making the eggs, the toast and juice for Théo then coffee for y/n

As I'm preparing the food I hear y/n and Théo coming down the stairs laughing

"Maman remember when iron man was like underoos and then Spiderman came out of nowhere and stole Captain America's Sheild, I was like wow" Théo said sounding excited

"Yeah I remember"

"Oh are you guys taking about Captain America: Civil war?" I ask from the stove"

The minute they hear my voice their smiles drop

Y/n nudges Théo a bit

"Bonjour papa"

"Bonjour Théo" I say

There's an awkward silence in the room until Théo breaks it

"Anyway Maman, then they fought at the airport and ant man grew bigger, then Rhodey was like "ok t-"

"I made breakfast" I say cutting Théo off

"Ok, C'mon Théo let's go" she says

She takes his hand and they walk out the door

I sigh again knowing exactly what game my wife Is playing

Sometimes I forget I married a person who holds grudges and is not easily forgiving, what's worse is that my son has taken after his mother with that habit

Until I make things right they won't talk to me or forgive me

I sigh once more thinking of things to do or say to make them forgive me but nothing comes to mind

I plate up my breakfast and eat in silence all on my own

3 hours later Théo and Y/n come back home

I stand up and watch them walk up the stairs

"Where were you guys"

"Out"

"What do u mean out"

"I mean out of the house Kylian"

"Why didn't you guys tell me where you were"

"Look all you need to know is we were out"

"Out where?"

"See how it feels"

"So this is pay back for what I did Yesterday"

"Until you tell me where you were and apologize to your son, this is how things are going to be"

"You're being unreasonable"

"Call it what you want my mind is made up"

"Y/n how long is this going to go on for?"

"Until you do what I said you should do, now if you'll excuse me I have to help MY son with his homework"

She continues up the stairs and into Théo's room

I follow her up the stairs and into Théo's room feeling angry with every step I take

"Can you stop being so stubborn and just get over it already, I wasn't there for Théo's match so what get over it, it happened, there's nothing I can do now, nothing I say or do will change that fact"

"All I want you to do is tell me where you were and to Apologize to Théo"

"It wasn't my fault I wasn't there though"

"I don't even know if that's true cause you haven't told me anything about where you were yesterday"

"All you have to do is believe what I say and move on from this whole issue"

"You clearly don't know who on earth you married if you think I'm gonna do that"

"You're so difficult, my gosh" I say and walk out the room

I stand in the passage for a while and as I'm standing there I hear Théo's cries

"Théo?" I hear from inside the door

"Maman, why are you and papa fighting?"

"Oh Amour, ton père et moi, nous sommes bien" (your father and I are fine")

"Ah bon?"( really?)

"Oui"

"Then why are you fighting?"

"We're not"

"Are you sure that papa is not going to leave us?"

"Théo, why do you keep asking me that question"

"Because Hugo's dad left him and his mom,Hugo said that his dad started by not coming to his matches, then he stopped coming home for dinner, then he started missing all his important moments, until he just didn't come home anymore, is that what's going to happen with us Maman?" I hear Théo ask with cries

"Théo N-"

I barge into the room before y/n can reply

"Théo that's not happening, your mother and I we love eachother very much, there is no way that I am going to leave the both of you"

"Are you sure"

"Oui"

"And just because all of this is happening doesn't mean that your father and I are going to leave eachother"

"Et Théo je très désolé" (and Théo, I'm very sorry)

"Pourquoi papa?" (Why, dad)

"For not coming to your match yesterday, I know it meant so much to you and I know it was your first match after your injury, all I'm saying is that i wouldn't purposely miss your match, but to make it up to you, I'll be there for the next one and the ones after"

"T'es sérieuse papa, t'es promis?" (Are you serious dad, do you promise?"

"Oui, je promis" (yes I promise")

"Thank you" Théo says coming hugging me

"You're welcome"

As I'm hugging Théo I look at Y/n and she looks away

I already know what this is about, she wants me to tell her where I was or I'll be sleeping in the guest room again today

"Ok Théo let's help you with your homework"

"Maman, can you also help with my homework?"

Y/n instantly puts on a smile and agrees to help

The three of us sit in Théo's room helping him with his homework then after that we just play around his toys

"Ok amour time for your bath, c'mon"

"I've got it" I say

"You sure?"

"Yeah I am"

"Ok then, I'll get started on dinner"

"Ok"

"Théo, on y va"

"Ok papa"

We walk to the bathroom and I bath and help him where he needs help

By the Time we're done Théo looks like he's about to sleep

Till this day Water is the only thing that can make him sleepy, that's what we use to do when he was a baby everytime Théo was restless and couldn't sleep we'd just give him a bath

"C'mon Théo, you have to have your dinner first before you sleep"

He huffs an ok and we both make our way downstairs,where we find Y/n dishing up

As we eat our dinner I see Théo dousing in and out of sleep

"C'mon Théo, let's get you to bed" y/n says getting out of her seat and picking Théo up

"Ok Maman, bonne nuit Papa"

"Bonne nuit Théo"

As y/n is tucking Théo into bed I clear the table and get started on washing the dishes

When y/n walks to the kitchen

"I'm not going to beat around the Bush Kylian"

"Wow, right to it?"

"Yep, so what were you doing and where were you?"

"Nothing"

"Really, so you call this nothing?" She Says

She turns her phone to show me the headline

Kylian Mbappe spotted walking out of the stores with bags of groceries and children's clothes

"Explain this then, what do you call this"

I'm quiet and don't say a word

"What, do you have another family outside me and Théo"

"And don't say that you brought the groceries and clothes for us because you came back home empty handed yesterday, so please explain, I really can't wait to hear what your reason is"

I continue being quiet not knowing what to say

"I brought the clothes and groceries for a charity the club said to keep it private because they would be announcing it to the media in a couple days that we'd be offered to adopt one of the children"

"Adopt one of the children?"

"Well not exactly adopt just being a guardian to them and showing them love and stuff, we take responsibility for them you know, and they don't have to live with us, we just have weekly visits to the charity and visit on weekends or anytime we want to"

"You didn't think to tell me all this before I left the house for work"

"I didn't want to say anything because at the time i didn't know that i would have been absent for Théo's match and I didn't know that there would be a child that would catch my attention"

"So you're saying there's a child there who peaked your interest?"

"Yeah his name is Alexander, he's Théo's age and he loves football aswell"

"How did you find him, what about him peaked your interest?"

"He was all alone at the back of the house and I was just exploring when I found him kicking ball against the wall"

"Why didn't call and at least let us know that you wouldn't be able to make it"

"My phone was off that's why all your calls went to voicemail"

"Mhm ok" she says and walks out the kitchen and upstairs to our room

I finish washing up the dishes and go to the room to find her doing her nightly routine

Testing the waters I walk closer to her and wrap my arms around her waist and she Pats the hands on her belly

She forgives me

"I'm sorry, for not telling you and for not being there yesterday, I realize that I was wrong and I could have used someone's phone to let you know that I couldn't make it"

"It's fine ,what's important is that you make it up to Théo and live up to that promise you made him"

"Yeah I will"

"Thank you"

"I love you"

"I love you too"

I kiss her her cheek and she gives me a tight lipped smile

"Can I come back to the room now"

"Yeah, you can come back"

[jokeringcutio]

Reader x Stepdad William Afton (Drabble)

AN: You got me there, ANON. All right, here's a very QUICK drabble for you, because I COULDN'T RESIST. MATURE THEMES/NO EXPLICIT SMUT. Just a happy family dinner (well....)

Also, I am overwhelmed with prompt requests and I love them, so do keep 'em coming. But if you want to help me out for reaching my goal to save up to commission a celebratory piece of artwork for this tumblr (as we've almost reached 1000 mutuals following this account :3 ) please feel free to donate me a little something on Ko-fi ♡ ︎.

based on this in my inbox: [ See Reaction to the post here x ]

The clink of silverware against porcelain punctuated the silence, a staccato rhythm that seemed to echo in the cavern of your chest. Across from you, William’s hands were steady as he cut into his steak, but there was something about the tightness in his jaw, the way his blue eyes didn't quite meet yours, that whispered secrets.

"Sweetheart," your mother's voice sliced through the tension like the knife in William's hand through meat, "it's time we talked about a paternity test."

Your heart stuttered in your chest, a wild, frantic thing eager to escape. You swallowed hard, the mashed potatoes on your tongue now tasting like ash.

"Whoever the father is... he deserves to know," she continued, oblivious to the undercurrents swirling beneath her words.

"Of course," you agreed, the word brittle on your lips. Your gaze flickered unintentionally to William, then quickly away, fearing what might be revealed in a single glance.

He cleared his throat, a sound that rumbled deep and low, a prelude to the storm you knew brewed within him.

"It's only fair," he said, but his voice was a masterclass in control, every syllable measured, every intonation practiced.

"You can ring up the boys... see if they're willing." She was all practicality, all motherly concern, not an inkling of suspicion clouding her features. If only she knew…

"Right," you breathed out, the lie sour and heavy in your mouth.

In your bedroom, Evan's chest rose and fell with the innocent trust of sleep. Unaware. Untouched by the deceit that hung thick in the air. The door ajar, otherwise he wouldn’t sleep if he didn’t hear that you were near. As if somehow, your tiny son was aware that he had been born in a house full of dark secrets and possible danger.

Your fingers curled around your glass, the cool surface grounding you. Water, while your parents were drinking wine. Wasn’t your mom still trying for a baby? Had she finally given up now that she saw how it was to be between diapers and the soreness of giving milk?

William's gaze flitted toward the open door where your son lay oblivious to the grown-up games played at his expense.

"Will do it tomorrow," you promised, your voice a whisper of determination laced with dread.

"Good girl," your mother smiled, contentment lighting up her face. But in William's eyes, the reflection of a different kind of pride—a dark, devouring satisfaction—flickered and then died.

You pushed your plate away, appetite lost. While inside your thoughts careened like a runaway train, you tried to remain your compose. Look and act normal. But what would happen when the truth came out? What would happen when the masks fell away?

What would William do?

Because in all honesty, it wasn’t your mom and her feelings you were worried about the most any longer. She had proven time after time again to be there for you, no matter what lies had been told about you. Her two-goody-shoes daughter, suddenly a wild partying animal who had gone and get laid whilst drunk – even if she bought it she faithfully helped take care of you and your newborn son. She was so – so darn sweet! Like an angel sent from the blessed sky. If she’d forgiven you this, then you wouldn’t doubt she would forgive you the truth.

But…

Could you bear her disappointment? Right now? Could you see her so crestfallen and betrayed? Did you want to break that dam and wait whilst pain raked through you both – a pain that only time could mend?

Beside you, William scraped his throat, his thick fingers scraping past your thigh underneath the table. The horny beast. Even now he couldn’t stop touching you.

Shouldn’t he be working on one of his new robot animals? Like that yellow bunny suit he was making to resemble your favorite plushie? With the only difference that it was ten times bigger and build for him to wear?

You tried not to glance at your stepfather, not even when his fingers reassuringly squeezed your already bruised thigh. You gritted your teeth at the soreness – thanks to his latest bout of fucking, of course. The man took his chances whenever he could.

No, the real problem here was your stepfather. William was a tall, strong and dangerous man. His mind worked in ways that only left you guessing. And you had no doubt that he had hurt others in the past before to get exactly what he wanted.

If you wanted to play this game, you had to play it right.

Silently, you vowed to protect Evan from the shadows that lurked behind William's aviator glasses, from the manipulations that twisted beneath his agreeable facade. You would stand between your son and the man who wore danger like a second skin.

"Let's finish up here," your mother suggested, unaware of the battle lines being drawn right before her eyes.

"Indeed," William agreed, and his smile was a predator's grin, hidden in plain sight.

The baby slept on, his dreams untainted by the turmoil that swirled just beyond his reach.