#this is your last chance josh

[chelseeebe]

we can’t be friends.

a little fake dating situation in which eddie must pretend to be your boyfriend to keep up pretences, but then feelings start to become hazy and now he’s not sure if you could ever be just friends again.

a/n: i’m reading this back and actually not liking it as much as i first did hahahaah but i hope you enjoy!! i just wanted to reiterate my hate for the duffers and the fact that they didn’t give him any other t-shirt other than that dang hellfire one>:(

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of bad parent/s. modern au i guess but it’s hardly mentioned. no use of y/n!

eddie wasn’t expecting to walk in to you so stressed.

it was the usual thursday movie night but you’d answered the door with a green complexion and the look of a deer in headlights.

“what’s wrong?” he perplexes, shutting the door behind him as you continue to pace the living room floor.

you sigh, blinking at him as you stop for a few seconds. you’re contemplating something, sizing him up with your eyes narrowed. it makes him a little unsettled if he’s honest.

“next week, are you free?”

“what?” wondering what the hell that had to do with your nervous exterior.

“are you free?” you press.

“uh.. probably, why?” not an inch of sense in your words.

“you wanna come on vacation with me? i mean- it’s not so much a vacation but a family reunion, but can you come?” chewing on your fingernail.

“when? what? why?” rattling through all of his questions all at once.

you sigh again, frustrated with his lack of understanding, “family reunion, i can’t do it alone eds..” your hands cycle around the air, “josh was supposed to come with me but obviously.. that’s not happening so can you come?”

eddie’s face finally un-scrunches. it all made sense now.

you’d spoken enough about your crazy parents and subsequently just why you’d moved halfway across the country to get away from them to understand why you didn’t want to go on your own.

he’d also been elated when you’d told him that you and josh had broken up. eddie had never liked him, in fact, if were given the chance, he thinks he’d punch him square in the face.

that hadn’t really helped you of course, so he kept it mostly to himself. but if the opportunity were ever to arise, he’d do it. no shame.

“oh, shit, why didn’t you just ask me in the first place?” he laughs, rolling in his eyes in jest as he collapses on the couch.

“i’ve asked everyone.. and i mean, everyone and they couldn’t, i was scared!” your body relaxes, coming to join him on the couch.

“oh thanks,” eddie scoffs, “so i was the last resort?”

“no,” you prod him in the side, “i didn’t think you’d wanna come, that’s all.”

“yeah right,” chuckling as you hand him a beer, “i don’t mind, i’ll suffer for you,” popping the lid off and taking a swig.

“thank you,” you exhale, leaning back against the couch, “really. it means a lot.”

“so what are we doing? skiing? sightseeing?” eddie probes, making himself comfortable.

you scoff, “oh no, it’s at my aunt’s beach house in illinois.. it’s big enough for you to have your own room and shit, you’ll just have to pretend to like craft beer and talk baseball with my dad.”

eddie’s head hits the back of the couch, groaning loudly, “baseball? man, i dunno if i can make it anymore.”

you throw him the dirtiest glare, “you’re not funny.”

despite your words, he falls into a fit of laughter truly not making your scowl any lesser. he knows you appreciate him deep down, given the fact that you hadn’t hit him yet.

-

the drive across indiana isn’t too bad, eddie only wishes he hadn’t let you control the music for the entirety of the journey.

“just..” you exhale, glancing warily over at him from the passenger seat, “just be normal, okay? don’t let them piss you off,” nodding with every word.

“you don’t trust me?” he grins, earning a deathly glare. “i won’t piss them off.. don’t worry,” turning his sarcastic mocking into kindness.

your eyes squeeze shut before you slide out of the door, doubting your choice to bring eddie along.

your parents open the door with a wide smile and their arms extended, pulling you in before looking over at eddie, obviously slightly taken aback with the man at their door.

he offers his hand out, “i’m eddie, nice to meet you sir,” feeling very judged and not at all surprised, not with all your horror stories.

your dad takes his hand, gripping on tight as he eyes him up and down, “so this is the boyfriend,” humming quietly, “it’s good to finally meet you, son.”

eddie freezes, eyes sliding from your parents to you to find you in the exact same position.

boyfriend?

“uh..” you fumble, mouth opening and closing somewhat like a fish, “yes! yes.. this is him,” chuckling nervously.

oh shit.

his week of rest and relaxation was about to become a week of performing and lies.

you watch eddie anxiously, your eyes speaking a thousand words. praying he doesn’t mess up, doesn’t embarrass you in front of them.

“yeah.. yeah, that’s me,” he nods hurriedly, going to shake your mom’s hand, “lovely to meet you.. miss.”

now eddie wasn’t opposed to pretending to be your boyfriend but fuck, really? he needed at least a week to prepare and rehearse, rather than you throwing him into a week of improvisation at a whim.

the literal second the door to your shared bedroom shuts, eddie spins on his heel, jaw clenched with an exasperated expression.

“what the fuck?” he whispers, rather loudly.

“i’m sorry!” you hush back, eyes wide, “i- i.. i didn’t have a choice! fuck, i’m really sorry,” anger turning to regret as you flop onto the bed, head in hands.

well great. now he feels guilty. you’re almost sobbing when he joins you on the bed, pressing his lips together in frustration.

“hey! it’s fine.. it’s fine,” he assures, “shit, it’ll be fun,” bumping his shoulder into yours playfully.

you sniffle pathetically, looking up at him with tearful eyes, “i’m really sorry.. i panicked,” bottom lip wobbling.

god, you look like the reincarnation of bambi.

his heart pangs, guilt wracking his chest for the slight overreaction.

“i know,” nodding slightly, “it’s okay.. it’ll be funny, you know?” he’s not sure that it’ll be anymore funny than it’ll be stressful, but he’s prepared to see this week through.

for you.

-

it’s the little things that make a relationship a relationship. things eddie hadn’t ever considered.

like the seemingly insignificant touches and the casual kisses. all things he now had to meticulously plan and prepare for.

nothing was ever too much. a gentle peck on the cheek or a graze of the knee. things no one would really notice unless you weren’t doing them.

you grab his hand walking to the table for dinner and he almost starts cackling until he remembers, now hoping that his palm wasn’t sweating too much.

that night in bed, you turn to face him, tiny smile creeping onto your face, “i think my cousin likes you, i mean- did you see the look on her face when you walked into dinner?”

eddie lets his phone fall onto his chest, flabbergasted at your suggestion, “what are you talking about?”

you hit his arm, furrowing your brows, “c’mon, she was totally checking you out, don’t pretend you didn’t notice,” rolling your eyes in jest.

if he’s honest, he really didn’t notice.

he’d been too preoccupied by you in that damn dress to care about anyone else at the table.

eddie didn’t get to see you dressed up often and the dress was sitting just right, he couldn’t exactly focus on much else.

“oh, are you getting jealous?” he mocks.

you tut, shaking your head, “maybe after we’ve fake-broken up you two can get together.”

“you are jealous,” he laughs, sliding his phone onto the nightstand and settles into bed, “what if i don’t wanna fake-break up?” only half-serious as he says it.

“well then i’ll get a fake-restraining order against you,” poking your tongue out before turning the lamp off. “goodnight, eddie,” he can hear the smile in your voice as you roll over.

there’s a quiet, niggling little voice somewhere in the back of his mind. or maybe it’s his heart speaking.

whatever it is, he doesn’t feel the need to acknowledge it. at least not right now anyway.

-

eddie supposes that a vacation at your aunt’s beach house would entail seeing you in little clothing but he can’t help the little woah from leaving his mouth when you walk out of the bathroom in a tiny bikini top.

“don’t be fucking weird,” you frown, eyes trailing down to his hot dog swimming trunks.

“i’m not!” he exclaims, still trying to draw his eyes away from your chest, “i’ve just never seen.. them,” eyes widening at your revealing bikini.

your eyes roll to the back of your head, expressing your disgust with a small groan.

the entire day is made significantly harder by your top, or lack thereof. eddie finds his gaze slipping downward and every so often has to remind himself that he’s not actually your boyfriend and he doesn’t have the rights to ogle you.

it’s just hard to focus on a thing your dad says to him when you’re sat in front of him like that.

his limits are tested when your cousin suggests a game of tennis. already calling eddie for her team as you get into position on the opposite side of the court.

perhaps you were right, her unnecessary, constant touching sent alarm bells ringing in his head. not that he’s paying it any mind, too distracted by your chest as you bound around the court.

so much so, he completely misses the ball, letting it bounce off of the court and into a hedge somewhere.

“eddie!” she shrieks, running off to collect the ball.

your eyes lock from over the net, your brows threaded together, “how about we swap teams? you join me,” pointing your finger at his face, gesturing for him to join you, which he does with a smile.

mostly just glad to be away from her wandering hands but also, he gets to prove a point.

“you are jealous,” eddie smirks, hushed tones as he speaks into your ear. you’re so close now, enough to touch.

he wants to.

he wants to so bad.

even if it were just to make your cousin seethe with envy.

“me? never,” smacking your racket gently at his leg, earning a nasty glare from your unhappy cousin who smacks the ball far too harshly towards him.

-

he’s too hot and bothered to do much after such an exciting game of tennis, walking in stride with you as you enter the large house. blabbering away about something or nothing when your mom announces her presence rather loudly.

“oh god,” pulling a face as she eyes your outfit, “you really should coverup sweetie, nobody wants to see that,” cackling away to herself.

eddie’s floored, utterly stunned that she’d ever say something like that, let alone to your face. your despairing expression stabs him in the heart, choking him from the inside out.

“well i do,” grinning at the lady in front of him.

“of course you do, you’re a man,” the older woman sighs, “i think it’s a little disgusting to just.. have everything out there,” gesturing to your chest, “women should have pride in their appearance, you know?”

you blink, chewing the inside of your lip as you nod. shrinking into yourself as you glide up the stairs. in an ideal world, he’d call her a bitch and move on with his life, however, he supposes that probably wouldn’t be wise.

she tuts, shaking her head at the stairs, “she’s always so offended.. can’t say a thing to her.”

eddie bites his tongue, diverting from what he truly wanted to say to offer some mild criticism, “maybe you shouldn’t have said anything at all,” shrugging as he flies past her and up the stairs, hot on your trail.

the bedroom’s empty though the en-suite door is closed, a muffled sniff coming from the other side. he hates that she’s made you cry, that she’s capable of even making you feel bad when you had absolutely zero reason to.

his knuckles rap against the door, pressing his cheek to the wood, “it’s me.”

there’s a small scuffle and then the lock clicks though the door remains closed. having to console you after the amazing afternoon you’d had feels wrong.

he creeps inside, closing the door behind him. you’re slouched on the toilet, tears leaking down your warm cheeks. it’s a punch to the gut to see you like this. all those harsh stories you’d recalled to him suddenly made a shit ton of sense.

“you okay?” eddie asks, the answer already overwhelmingly obvious.

“yeah,” you sigh, wiping your sodden cheeks, sniffling for good measure.

“you shouldn’t listen to her,” he affirms, perching on the bathtub, “don’t let her upset you.. it’s not worth it,” although his words probably fall on deaf ears, you already know this.

“i know..” staring up at him with your puppy dog eyes, “i’m sorry, she just.. ugh,” snarling your lip, “she knows how to make me feel like shit.”

“what the hell are you apologising to me for?” eddie jokes, poking you in the arm, “she’s just jealous,” choosing wisely where to go from here, “she doesn’t look as good as you do and she doesn’t like that.”

his words crack a tiny smile on your lips, mission accomplished.

“thanks,” you nod, “i mean that. thank you for even coming with me.. i couldn’t do it without you.”

his heart swells a little, or a lot really.

this is a dangerous game, he thinks. wanting nothing more than to cradle you in his arms.. blur the boundaries a little more.

how much more blurred could they possibly get before eddie had to admit to his feelings?

he’s not sure he wants to find out.

-

on reflection, it had been a pretty good week. at least eddie thinks so, pretending to be your boyfriend wasn’t exactly normal or anything he’d ever pictured himself doing. but he’s enjoyed it nonetheless.

despite a new found, deep hatred for your mother, he doesn’t think the rest of your family were that bad. willing to volunteer for any other vacations you might be forced to drag him on.

nowhere near as testing as he once thought it would be. in reality, the hardest part about it all was that he had to go home alone tomorrow.

as both of you lounge on the bed, the tv prattling on in the background, he smiles, gently elbowing you in the side.

“y’know this week has been fun,” reminiscing on all the stupid things he’s had to do to sell this story.

one night, you had helped yourself to a little too much wine. stumbling all over the vast garden as your family watched on in horror. so eddie did what any good boyfriend would do and slung you over his shoulder, giggling into his back as he manoeuvred his way up to your room.

not only the public displays of affection come back to him, but also the seemingly minuscule ones. where only you were involved. sneaky laughs and glances that only the two of you could understand.

“mhm,” you hum, sliding your bookmark into your book, “it has, thank you for doing this,” before leaning over to place your book onto the bedside table.

“i’ve enjoyed it,” he meets your eye, that same uncomfortable fluttering starts again in his chest, “being your ‘boyfriend’ i mean.”

you shuffle, turning to face him properly, “well.. i’ve enjoyed being your girlfriend,” lips twitching into a smile.

there’s something in the silence, a tension that feels ready to burst.

eddie does something he might live to regret, something so idiotic and foolish that put your entire friendship at risk.

he leans forward, hastily connecting your lips in what must be the world’s most awkward kiss.

you hesitate for too long of a moment, jerking your head back to stare into his eyes.

he’s done it. he’s ruined the single best thing he had left.

an apology begins to form on his tongue but your lips silence him, your hand finding his cheek to bring him closer. eddie’s eyes fall shut, slowly accepting this, that you wanted it too.

he repositions himself, at your mercy as you tug on his hair, now hovering above your body, elbows sinking into the mattress.

he can feel you now, your chest brushing against his, the way your heart rate seems to match his, thumping away in your chest.

“we should.. we should stop,” eddie pulls away, breathlessly panting with your lips still tracing over one another.

“no.. no,” you shake your head, your eyes shiny and full of something he can’t place.

“what?”

“kiss me again,” you demand.

he’s not quite certain he’s hearing you right. fear had forced him to tear himself away but now you were asking for him to do it again?

eddie falters for a second too long, forcing you into kissing him, smashing your lips to his as your fingers scramble to find the back of his neck under his hair.

oh my god oh my god oh my god.

your entire family are in this house and he’s going to desecrate this innocent bed with you, his fake-girlfriend.

he feels your knee slide up his thigh, allowing him more space between your legs. now it’s more than just your chests meshed together, his poor sweatpants tightening with every slight buck of your hips. blood rushing to his cock as you gasp and sigh into his mouth.

he has to pull himself back into the room when your hand slides from his neck to his crotch, lightly tracing over his throbbing cock.

making out could be easily laughed off but this- this was serious.

“you.. you wanna do this?” he asks, gasping for breath as you continue to kiss at the side of his mouth.

“i want to do this,” you reaffirm, dipping your hand into the waistband of his sweatpants, drawing out a hoarse groan from his throat.

your hand wraps around the base of his cock, leaving a trail of kisses to his jaw.

his eyelids flutter, struggling to stay open as you start pumping your fist, thumb circling his leaking tip.

“oh my god,” eddie breathes, jolting his hips into your fist.

this entire week he had been internalising all of these intrusive thoughts and feelings about you and now it felt like he might genuinely cum all over your hand, not even five minutes into this.

it doesn’t at all help when you’re panting and writhing around underneath him, delicate fingers making him feel like he’s flying.

“f-fuck,” he stutters, grabbing your forearm, “you have to stop,” regaining just enough composure to reopen his eyes.

“why?” concern rippling through your voice.

now he falters, gazing into your lust filled eyes, pupils all blown out and crazy. it would be despicable if he were to divulge his embarrassing secret to you.

so he takes your arm, pinning it above your head before starting his descent, a paper chain of kisses and light grazings down your neck and chest.

it’s entirely too intimate for just friends, fake relationship or not.

“oh,” you sigh, head rolling back onto the pillow.

eddie has control now, regaining power without a damn clue of what to do with it. your shorts come down with his free hand with a little help from you, your ankle now comes to rest on his shoulder.

he should feel stronger than he does, rather more intimidated and fearful that he’s going to disappoint.

“please..” you pout, “please touch me,” he wonders if you can sense his anxiety.

he lets go of his grip on your wrist, trailing down your quivering body until he meets your lower stomach. this new position allows him access to your heat, wet and waiting for him.

“shit,” he mutters, sliding a solitary finger between your slick folds, watching as your chest heaves in response. “you’re so pretty,” he can’t help but blurt out.

“shut up and touch me,” you snap, chasing his touch with your hips.

eddie’s not going to deprive you of that now, is he?

circling around your clit, noting the way you groan and grab onto his arm. not that he thinks that there’ll ever be a second time for this.

your eager hands grab at his sweatpants, hoping that that’ll be enough of a hint.

he’s not going to last long, that’s for certain.

fed up with his stalling, you tug his sweatpants down, aiding him in sliding them off and onto the floor with a muffled thump.

your arms fan out across the mattress, glancing down at the minimal space between your bodies and then back into his eyes.

his entire body shudders as he slides into your eager cunt, bumbling through all of the profanity in his vocabulary. watching as your jaw falls slack, wary that you couldn’t make too much noise.

perhaps it was the fact that he’d been brushing off any even slightly sexual thought for an entire week or maybe it was just true but eddie swears that no one had ever felt this good before.

“fuck,” he wails, hips slamming against the backs of your thighs, digging his fingertips into the soft, mailable flesh of your hip.

just the way you grip onto the blanket makes him dizzy, letting his eyesight go hazy, a blurred picture of you sprawled underneath him.

the pleasure is insurmountable, something snapping in his stomach when your hand reaches out for him, gripping onto his forearm.

“eds,” you gasp, just loud enough over his barely contained grunts, “more,” sickening eyes doing all the work for you.

there’s not much more of him left to give, already nudging against your soft spot, repositioning your calf higher on his shoulder to allow him deeper, receiving a sweet whimper in return.

“yeah,” you pant, over and over, fingernails latching onto his skin. his arms start to shake, still holding himself up over you as his orgasm begins to catch up with him.

“shit.. i don’t- i don’t think..” eddie swallows, struggling to stay composed as you tighten around him, looking up at him through batting eyelashes.

it makes his stomach twist, barely able to move as his high comes crashing down, overtaking his senses, sweaty bodies colliding as he collapses on top of you.

“oh shit.. oh my god,” he whines, release painting your thigh, the sheet and even your fucking t-shirt.

he’s not ready for a child but he’s certain that’d have been worth it.

eddie glances at you, subsequently moving from your body onto the mattress. the entire high he had been feeling comes tumbling down, now faced with the reality that you were no longer just friends.

the ceiling becomes incredibly interesting, both of you avoiding eye contact as the silence somehow grows louder.

for a room that was just full of lewd, filthy noises, it sure is quiet now.

the blanket rustles and eddie dares a peek, you stand at the edge of the bed, disheveled and still slightly flustered.

you look down at the stain he had left, tutting quietly, “thanks a lot.. gonna have to change now,” adding a soft chuckle.

“sorry.. cheaper than a baby though,” adding to your banter, it’s indescribable the relief he feels.

eddie watches as you rummage around in your suitcase, no longer shying away as you pull your shirt over your head, shimmying into your clean clothes.

when you rejoin him in bed, the tension is mostly gone, the lamp clicking off, encompassing the room in total and utter darkness.

there’s a further moment of silence wherein eddie isn’t sure if he should bolt and hide or embarrass himself further and say something stupid.

something- someone, brushes against his ribcage as you shuffle, your hand coming to rest on his stomach.

there’s not a word exchanged between you but eddie takes the hint, sliding your hand further over his midriff. it’s a pathetic attempt at cuddling but it makes him flutter all the same.

-

eddie wakes up sprawled face first across the bed, blinking at the bright light, not a trace of you in the room.

he fucked up. he fucked up so bad that you’ve decided to find your own way home and left him here.

shit.

he clambers out of bed, pulling his hastily discarded sweatpants back on, remembering every last detail of your night last night.

the guilt comes in waves, and then embarrassment and shame jump in to make it worse.

years of friendship down the drain and for what?

he just about builds enough courage to leave the room and venture downstairs, creeping out onto the hall when you come bounding up the stairs, meeting him in the cramped corridor.

“hi,” smiling coyly, playing the oblivious game.

“hey,” he nods, reciprocating the smile.

nothing was ruined. you’re fine.

“i was just coming to wake you..breakfast’s ready,” you fiddle with your thumbs, a completely different version of yourself than the one he saw last night.

“oh good,” eddie blinks, “i’m starving,” wanting to smash his palm into his face the second the words come out.

“great!” you exclaim, the painful cringe coming through on your face too.

the two of you walk down the stairs in silence, sitting at the table with a small knowing glance.

this house is huge. he’s sure no one else would’ve heard.

he’s midway through his coffee when your dad leans across the table, probing the two of you, “so, will you be trying for kids anytime soon?”

eddie damn near chokes on the searing hot liquid, coughing his gulp back up into the mug, combatting the burning sensation travelling down his throat and also up into his cheeks.

why would he ask that? over breakfast no less.

“uh no.. nope,” you answer for him, thankfully.

“that’s a shame,” your father stands from the table, sliding his plate into the soapy water before making his way over to eddie, clapping him on the back, “you’re gonna have to make an honest woman outta her first son,” before shuffling off into the living room.

he wants to die. in fact, he’d much rather the ground open up and swallow the two of you alive than to be sat at this breakfast table.

judging by the look on your face, you share the sentiment.

-

he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you.

he’s just not sure when or how. it’d be unfair for him to unload his feelings unto you at the beginning of the journey, not to mention also extremely inconvenient if you didn’t feel the same.

but then he’s also acutely aware that if he doesn’t force those words out soon, that they may never come out.

he’s just finished loading your bags into the back of his van, admittedly a little sad to be leaving.

it’s like, he could no longer pretend that what was going on was real. that last night might’ve just been a mistake and you want to cut ties here.

your phone blares from your hand, holding up a finger as you walk away to take the call.

eddie rehearses what he’s going to say to you. well, tries to.

i think you’re super cool, how about i become your boyfriend for real?

he cringes at the thought of it, it wasn’t really the declaration of love that you deserved.

the door opening startles him, your demeanour had done a complete one eighty, your shoulders slumped as you slide into the seat in silence.

“you all good?” eddie asks, wondering what had changed in such a short time.

“uh.. yeah.”

“y’sure?” he probes, not entirely convinced by your change in attitude.

“that was josh,” you swallow, looking straight ahead out of the windscreen, “he wants to see me when i’m back.. to talk.”

“oh,” he replies flatly, “wow okay.”

the life he had dreamed slowly crumbled before him, it was foolish to think that you’d just want to settle down with him now. he’d gotten ahead of himself and now had to reap the consequences.

“yeah..”

eddie doesn’t utter another word, instead, turning the key and starting the long, painful drive home.

maybe he’ll throw himself out of the van on the interstate. punishment for letting himself even slightly believe that you’d be interested in him too.

-

josh is waiting outside of your building when eddie pulls up, smug grin in tow.

tempted to just keep driving, smash into the side of his expensive shiny car and then reverse over his spindly little body.

that doesn’t happen of course.

instead, eddie keeps his head ducked low, muttering a low see you later before you clamber out. there’s so much left unsaid, even a complete idiot could see that.

he doesn’t watch as you walk over to your ex, certainly doesn’t want to see how his hands meet the small of your back and the way you seem to relax into his touch.

not a chance.

it’s eating him alive. even with the windows rolled down entirely, he’s sweating. as if it’s gnawing at his skin, trying to find a way out.

fuckfuckfuck.

tyres screech along the tarmac, his hands shaking as he turns the wheel. something otherworldly and dangerous overtakes his senses as he tears off back down the same road he’d just traveled.

and maybe he’d regret it and maybe it’d ruin your friendship forever but this week couldn’t have been for nothing.

you had to at least know.

eddie’s palms are wet, holding onto the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip. he doesn’t recall the journey to your apartment being so fucking long but he feels like he’s in this stuffy van for an eternity.

the moment he pulls onto that familiar street, bile rises in his throat.

maybe josh would have sweet talked his way back into your life and he’d get his ass beat. or maybe you’d laugh him out of there, telling him to never contact you again.

he supposes that there’s not much left to lose now.

eddie hops out of his van without so much as a look back, bounding up the short path as the door swings open, nearly knocking him for six.

“eddie,” you remark, phone gripped in your hand. your jaw hangs open, what looks like tears stain your cheeks. “i was trying to call you.”

frankly, he’s still out of breath from the exhilaration of it all, struggling to find his words as he stares gormless at you, “my phone’s dead.. i didn’t- didn’t know.. what’s wrong?” mind immediately jumping to josh.

what had he done?

“nonono.. nothing’s wrong, i just..” you trail off, your gaze not once breaking, “why are you here?”

eddie’s mind goes blank, why was he here?

to tell you that he thinks he’s in love with you? he can’t say that.

“you.. left something- in the van.”

idiot.

total fucking fool.

“oh!” swallowing the shock of his arrival, “what? what is it?”

why are you both dancing around this? he’s sure you feel it too. maybe. that could be the adrenaline speaking.

“nothing.. you didn’t leave anything- i don’t know why i said that.” shaking his head, if he weren’t so nervous, he’d have been crippled with embarrassment. “look, i have to tell you something,” biding his time, hoping your crazed ex won’t pop out of a bush and pummel his head into the ground.

“eddie..” you start, that solemn tone he was dreading to hear.

“no, let me say it,” he tries again, clearing his throat, “i need to s-“

“-eddie,” cutting him off mid-sentence, bounding up to him with your arms extended, throwing them around his neck as you press your lips to his.

it’s almost enough force to knock him on his ass, his hands coming to meet your waist in an attempt to stabilise both of you.

you pull away, lips still pouted slightly, “sorry.. what were you gonna say?”

eddie can’t recall a word of the speech he’d halfheartedly rehearsed. “well shit.. doesn’t matter now,” once again pressing his lips to yours, swaying in the evening breeze as everything seems to fall into place.

[anakinsdove]

𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 | 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐞 «𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐»

pairing: sam monroe x older!fem!reader

summary: it's been like what? 6 years since you saw sammy, he's still as weird as he used to be, only prettier. After seeing him again you notice there some tension that wasn't there before.

C/W: nsfw, fluff, loser Sammy, riding, tit sucking, lose of virginity (sam’s) subby!sam

discord - twitter: anakinsdove. -PART 1-

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! ｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。Love you

𝘄/𝗰 - 2,149

“Come to my room at 2:00 AM” Your voice echoes in his mind… he swears time is passing slower that it’s meant to because god’s teasing him and also, he has never hate James as much as he does in this moment, he doesnt show signs of being sleepy and its already 12:00 AM, if he’s not asleep by 2:00 AM he’s gonna lose his fucking chance to be with you, it’s probably the only chance he’ll ever get… and he really really wants to be with you… ever since he heard Josh Dickens gave you a kiss in elementary school because fuck… that had to be him

When you kicked Matt because he pushed him, then Matt pulled your pigtails and made you cry so he brought you a muffin his mom baked as in sincere thank you for defending him… He’s been in love with you since forever, even when you went away, soon his morning woods were because of the sex dreams of you and not the models in his dirty magazines, You you You, you….

And when you knelt down in front of him and unbuckled his belt expertly he knew it was over for him, you were his and he’ll do whatever you wanted him to do, fuck he hated himself for cumming so soon, because that moment could’ve last longer, he hated himself because he wanted to go again but he was so sensitive… the way your teeth gently grazed his cock-

“Dude! Are you serious?” James yelled and his face goes pale, can James read his mind suddenly? “You’re hard” Sam panicked and covered himself with a pillow “Fuck off!” James rolls his eyes and goes back to his game… Sam can’t take this anymore, he stands up and goes to the bathroom, your room is right down the hall, it looks so tempting yet so scary at the same time.. before he can stop himself hes standing at your door where he can take a peak of you, he knows it’s not 2:00 AM yet, and he doesn’t want you to think he can’t follow basic instructions but… fuck…he imagines your voice calling for him, telling him you need him, to please you, to fuck you, to take you so fucking good, to tell him you need him right between your legs… he imagines your taste, your thighs suffocating him but he wouldn’t mind… he would’ve never mind.

He watches your toy with the cord of the phone as you talk about to someone on the phone, he wonders who it is… one of your friends? Your ex? The next boy you’re going to fuck after you ruin him tonight?… and again before he can stop it his hand is down his pants as he grips his hard on… painfully hard til he releases as shaky breath… now your voice sounds incomprehensible, he observes your chest rise and fall with every breathe you take, the way you’re laughing at someone’s voice and the way you kick your feet in such a girly way, he smiles…

He’s a pervert, he knows it but he doesn’t really mind right now, your pajamas shorts are so sexy to him, the fabric looks so delicate, fragile, like he could tear them apart and slide his cock right between your folds, all puffy and wet for him… he bangs his head against the wall and bites his lip hard to suppress a moan, his hand moves up and down at a fast peace, he knows he doesn’t have much time

He’s so close, so so close, just like the loser he is he’s always close and his hips chase his hand desperately, his brow furrowed as he breathes heavily against the wall

Then you make eye contact with him

His eyes squeezed shut when he came, he just ruined his only pair of boxers and his hand is sticky as fuck…. And he hears your step getting closer…

“Oh Sammy..” your voice is condescending as you eye him up cutely… when suddenly you close the door, leaving him outside like a dog in heat, Sam squeezes his eyes again in embarrassment as he runs to the bathroom to clean up himself.

1:39 AM

James seems to be about to go to sleep, that’s a good thing for sure, it finally looks like he’s about to get what he desperately needs, yet… he seems to be confused by your hot and awkward interaction, were you just teasing him? Or it meant something more? You looked at him like you finally realized he’s a loser who doesn’t deserve to fuck you… but maybe you didn’t, maybe you were just being cocky about finding him that position… with his fucking hand under his pants, any girl would’ve thrown him out, beat him up, but you didn’t… he knows he deserves it but you didn’t… he feels more and more head over heels as he thinks about all the possible out comes tonight has.

He’s outside your door again at 1:58 AM, waiting impatiently as the clock tickling mocks him, it certainly feels like it… he doesn’t know whether he should knock now or wait two more minutes… however you put his mind at ease when you suddenly open the door and pull him inside.

“Just in time” your breathless tone makes his toes curl

“Really-“ your lips press into his, this is something you could call a kiss, is intense, it’s everything both of you need it to be… his greedy hands grips your boobs like any stupid boy would do, you think he’s bold for doing this tho.

“Feeling confident aren’t you?” And well his confidence is definitely gone now at your mean words, spat like venom, he wants more of that… “You want me…. As much as I want you” his voice doesn’t so sure

“Ok and?” You kiss him again guiding him towards your bed, the back of his knees hits the bed and he falls down with you ok top of him, this time his hands rest on your waist, not daring to touch anywhere else just yet.

“…Sam…..” Oh fuck she’s regretting it “You’re absolutely sure you want to do this with me? I get it if you’d want to wait for the right girl” You’re the right gir! It’s fucking you! It always has been! “Positive” You grin at his words and just like you did a few hours ago you decide to go for his neck again… the hickeys you gave him are still there, he’s surprised James didn’t even notice… any one would’ve pieced it instantly… his breathe heaves “I’m gonna take off your shirt” he sits up so you can do whatever you want to him… “Sam…” “Huh?” “You can take my clothes off too…” he nods shakily as he exhales, everything feels like a very complex task right now… he takes the hem of your shirt thank top and lifts it off your body, he takes a moment to admire your skin, any marks, moles, scars, he wants to remember this moment, to keep it engraved in his mind, because this might be the last time.

“Do you know how to undo my bra?” His silence gives it away “It’s okay let me just-“ Your breast mesmerize him that’s for sure, he’s instantly attracted to them as his hands touch your soft skin, his thumbs grazing your nipples softly “You’re so fucking pretty” he breathes out “Yeah?” “So fucking perfect” his words are genuine… you know it, something shifts inside you like a switch that tells you Make it special and you will… “You’re so prettty Sam…” his brows furrowed and his mouth falls open as he sees your hands toying with his belt again… all over again.

You successfully remove his pants and realize his shirt is still on… “You wanna take that off?” Sam nods, you never take your gaze away from him, he’s pale, his skin looks very smooth regardless, his collarbones are prominent, he’s beautiful.. you can’t help it but touch his piercing in his chin.

“Does this hurt?” He chuckles… “No, not really” “Reaaaally? Or were you just really brave about it?” You tickle his ribs, his boyish giggle fills your ears and that sound will be forever engraved in your mind… this won’t be a random hookup, this is more than that, and even if that thought scares you you decide to push it to the back of your mind for now… wait he’s also wearing eyeliner it looks so good with his already smudge eyeshadow

“Okay… uh… do you want me to ride you?” YES YES YES yet he just nods impatiently, he wouldn’t want to miss the chance of you bouncing on his cock, breaking his legs as he sucks on your gorgeous tits, you already suck his soul out, so why not also break his legs.

You remove your panties and his boxers… Sam touches the bow on your panties to confirm you’re real and this is happening, his gaze follows your body from your pussy to you eyes “It’s okay… I don’t care if you don’t last long, I want you to enjoy this” you’re an angel sent from heaven

“Im-I’m gonna put it in” you hover over him and your nails graze his tip deliciously, he lays back on your pillows

And when you slide it in….

“Fuck!” His legs tremble and you whine, he’s big he’s so fucking big…. Why’s this loser so fucking big? Sam hisses as he lays back, throwing his head back Fuck fuck fuck why is she so fucking warm he breathes heavily as he squirms, his brows furrow prettily “it’s okay Sam…. It’s okay breathe baby” “You’re so fucking wet!” “Yes Sammy… so fucking wet, does it feel good?” He nodds, his eyes are still closed, his hands grip your thighs desperately… you think he might make himself bleed with how hard he’s biting his lip… you decide to put his hands to use and guide them to your tits.

Sam grips them instantly as you roll your head back, “I’m gonna start moving okay?” “I’m not gonna last..” you roll your eyes and start grinding against him, your clit rubs deliciously against his pubes… he sits up, his hands go straight to grip your ass guiding you up and down… fine… you start bouncing… bouncing on his cock like he always dreamed of, your fucking pussy is so tight.

Sam breathes heavily against your chest, you tits in full display to him, he can’t help himself, he just can’t, they’re bouncing right in front of his face as your hips ride him expertly, his lips latch to your nipple and he manhandles your other boob… you hate to admit it but that sight is doing more for you than you can explain… you cry out and your fingers travel down to your pussy as you rub you clit fastly and uncoordinated, you know he’s close and you want to cum with him

“Sam! S-Sam fuck fuck-“ he removes your hand and rubs your clit himself, his touch is too rough, almost painful yet heavenly, his eyes are scrunched tightly, his mouth falls open releasing your nipple, his moans are no longer muffled, they’re loud, they’re so fucking loud, his hands attempt to help you ride him faster and then you see it

He’s crying

It’s so intense it’s so fucking intense, the type of pleasure his hand could never provide him, no matter how much lube he uses… what he’s fucking- it’s just not… and he’s a mess, he’s sweating and his cheap eyeliner is running down his cheeks

“Yes Sammy.. c-cum for me.. I can feel you’re close- you’re fucking pulsating inside me!”

the pressure building in his belly snaps and it’s all fireworks and stars flashing behind his eyes… his belly twitches as he fills you up “Ah.. Ah! Yes!” You’re not far behind him… your orgasm is powerful, it’s gonna leave you shaking… sam spasms as you keep riding him just a little more.. his eyes open when you collapse on top of him.

“Oh my fucking god” Sam laughs and you wonder what’s so funny “W-what?” “People do this everyday?” He looks dreamy as he pushes your hair behind your ear “I guess…” you giggle “I thought you were trying to kill me…” he laughs “I was” “Yeah?” “Wanted to see how much you can take-“ he interrupts you with a kiss

“What was that for?” “Well we just made love” Sam’s says sarcastically “made love?” You laughs at his cute explanation “You just fucked the shit out of me…” “And your soul out of you..” “Yeah… that too” Sam smiles brightly “Are you okay?” You ask him he can only nod, he’s so happy.

“So… what if now…. I just cuddle the shit out of you?”

masterlist 𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗱𝗼𝘃𝗲 © --- all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/ copying will be tolerated.

dividers - @i92-93

[ghoulishlygrey]

Dancing With Death

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Josh Washington x Fem!reader

Warning: Explicit Content, MDNI

Read it on ao3

Enjoy!

Word count: 4772

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You brought your hand up to knock at the large door of the Washington Lodge, you pulled your parka a little closer, waiting for any sign of life to let you into the warmth of the multimillion dollar home. It had been a year since Beth and Hannah’s mysterious disappearance, a tragedy in your eyes. You weren’t a part of the prank, you were passed out drunk with Chris and Josh when it all went down. You only heard about the prank afterwards when police were called and you finally sobered up. Josh was obviously shaken up about the whole thing, to say the least. You’d barely heard from him throughout the year and he distanced himself from the friend group, which you couldn’t blame him for. You were surprised to hear from him, even more surprised to learn he wanted all of you to come back to Washington Lodge in memory of the sisters.

Although it felt… weird, you felt morally obliged to come back and support Josh, which totally had nothing to do with your feelings for him. Not at all… okay, maybe a little. But, he probably didn’t feel the same. Which was fine, you could be the good friend to him that he needed right now. You hoped that after his time away he’d come back to the friend group, come to the parties and back into your life. Maybe it was a little selfish, but you wanted to see him for the sake of your feelings for him which really hadn’t dwindled in his absence. You worried for him, last you heard he was in therapy and taking medications for his depression and other mental health issues. As childish as it sounded, you wished you were able to take away his pain, or at least ease it. It hurt to see someone you cared about in pain. 

Your mind wanders back to the night of the incident, things would’ve been different if Josh, you and Chris had been awake and aware of the pranks plans. Josh for sure wouldn’t have stood for it, you know you would’ve tried to stop it. After all, Hannah was one of your closest friends. You yourself found it hard to return to the friend group after the whole thing, harboring blame for everyone involved. Well, everyone except Sam who was your other closest friend. You know she tried to stop it afterwards when you had a chance to talk to her, she was just too late.

Your thinking is cut short by the sound of the door unlocking and creaking open. Your gaze follows the sound and lands on Josh as he stands in the doorway, a toothy grin plastered on his face. He says your name in a friendly and welcoming manner before pulling you into a bear hug.

“Oof!” you collide with his chest before wrapping your arms around him in return. 

“Good to see you too, Josh.” Your hands slide back from his flannel as he lets you go and a gust of frigid wind bites at your nose and cheeks. 

“Can I come in?” You ask, pointing to the fireplace. There was nobody else in the room but yet you had a feeling you were the last one to show up, as per usual. 

“Oh yeah, sure sure. Come on in.” He steps aside, and allows you to come into the lodge before closing the door behind you, shutting out the cold. You drag in your luggage and set it in the foyer and then you make your way over to the fireplace, rubbing your hands together and holding them to the flame. Your fingers were freezing as you opted to wear fingerless gloves, perhaps an oversight on your end but you were inside now, so all was well. 

“Can I, uh, take your coat?” He asks, gesturing to the coat rack where his vest was also hanging, his beanie dangling from the pocket. 

“Sure,” You slip your arms from your parka before handing it over to Josh who takes it and hangs it from the coat rack. You’re now left in your black cardigan and jeans. “Thank you.” 

“No problemo.” He smiles at you and makes finger guns, you shoot him back and he chuckles.

“Where’s everyone else?” You ask, looking around. 

“Jess and Mike are on their way to the guest cabin, Emily and Matt are retrieving her bag from the cable car station, Sam is taking a bath and Chris just went to lay down.” He lists off, counting on his fingers.

“Left you all alone, did they?” You tease, watching as he makes his way over to you to warm his own hands. 

“I’m wounded by their absence.” He pretends to stab his heart and acts wounded, you laugh at his theatrics. 

“So dramatic.” You say, rolling your eyes in a silly manner. He scoffs, looking over at you.

“You’ve always been the dramatic one.” He claims, elbowing your side and causing you to squeal and fold in on yourself.

“Stooop!” You dodge away, running to get behind the couch and away from the prying elbow. “Behave.” You warn, smile betraying you. 

“When have I ever not behaved?” He chuckles, raising an eyebrow at you. Now it was your turn to scoff.

“Oh, you want the list or the summary?” You ask, climbing over the back of the couch to bet comfy on the cushions. He watches you with something unknown in his eye, a foreign twinkle. 

“What?” You ask, kicking off your boots before bringing your knees to your chest. 

“Care for a drink, madam?” He disappears to the liquor cabinet before reemerging with a handle of vodka. The last time you had gotten drunk in this lodge, things didn't end well. But, a few sips couldn’t hurt, maybe it’d help you get warm. You also hoped Josh hadn’t turned to alcohol in his time of grief, but if some company was what he needed, you were happy to oblige. 

“Oooo, are we Russian now?” You gesture to the vodka as he comes to sit down next to you, he turns the bottle in his hand. It was nice vodka, probably very expensive but you understood that the Washington family could definitely afford for you and Josh to take a few sips from off the top. 

“Da.” He says in his best Russian accent before unscrewing the lid and offering you first drink. You take the bottle by the neck and take a sip off the top and when you look back to Josh to offer up the bottle, he’s looking at you in disbelief. 

“What?” You ask, blushing under the weight of his gaze. 

“That’s all you’re gonna drink? Where’s the black-out, shit-faced, party girl I know?” He smiles his signature grin at you before taking the bottle and taking a hearty drink. He grimaces against the alcohol taste before setting the bottle on the nearby table. 

“She’s retired. Focusing on her studies.” You say, a teasing tone lacing your voice. You and Josh were both in college at the time of the disappearances but Josh understandably dropped out of his studies. You, on the other hand, were still up at the local college pursuing your degree. 

“Hey,” You start, your teasing tone turning into one of concern, “Should you be drinking with the meds you’re taking?” You tried your best to sound sincere, because you were. You didn’t want him hurting himself or anything just to have a drink with you.

“I’m fine.” He says, face immediately dropping. You move to put a hand over his and he looks at the contact then back at your face.

“I didn’t say you weren’t.” You practically whisper, thumb caressing over his knuckles. 

“I uh…” He starts, gaze not leaving yours, “I stopped taking them.” 

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” You ask, searching his features for the answer before he can say it. You don’t find anything.

“Good… I think.” He says after a moment, his eyes shift from yours and to the side, like he was thinking of something. You retreat your hand and lean back, your legs draping over his lap. He immediately shifts and welcomes your incursion, hands beginning to fiddle with the hem of your pants. This was nice, your relationship was basically the same as it had been a year ago, even though you’d barely seen each other since. 

“I’m just glad you’re doing better.” You express honestly. All you wanted was for Josh to be okay, even though you knew the pain of losing his sisters would never go away. Hearing that he was off his meds just left you confused on how to feel. Was he off them because he was doing better? Or were they not working, or worse yet, was he giving up on them? 

“Thanks for coming back, I know it probably wasn’t easy.” He says, a rare sincerity showing itself. Usually Josh was a pretty goofy guy, witty and sarcastic and all around a good sense of humor. Seeing him now, timid and honest, was something you’d seen before, but not often. 

“Of course. Anything for you.” You smile as he rests his arms on your shins and studies your face. 

“Careful, you’re giving me a lot of power there.” He grins, returning to his goofy self. 

“Well, maybe not anything.” You trail off, a smile plastered across your face. 

“Well then, I command thee to drinketh upon thine vodka.” He reaches to grab the bottle from the table and hands it to you while committing to his false accent.

“Well, if you command it, I suppose I have no choice.” You take the bottle and take a meaningful gulp of the clear liquid, clearly making a face against the taste as Josh laughs at you. 

“Wow, you really have lost your touch.” He says, chuckling.

“Oh whatever, sorry I’m not used to your ridiculously expensive vodka.” You dismiss, passing back the bottle and watching him take his turn. 

The two of you continue like that for a while, just passing the bottle between you both and getting closer and closer, and louder and louder. Soon enough you’ve got him trapped in a hearty laugh, you’re gripping your sides from cackling and tears are springing from the corners of your eyes. You bring a finger to dab at your eyes, not trying to mess up your mascara. But then, you fall into silence and your gaze slowly makes its way over to Josh, who is already looking at you, lips parted as his tongue dashes out to wet them. 

“What?” You ask, suddenly feeling self conscious. 

“Are you still willing to do anything for me?” He asks, rather seriously.

“Within reason.” You try to make light of the serious tone overcoming the space around you and it seems to work, Josh’s lips twitch into a smile momentarily before he’s pulling on your legs, chugging you towards him. 

“Well then, come here.” 

“Josh!-” You squeal as you slide across the couch. Your heart was racing, what did he want? What was he going to do? You’ve had feelings for him for so long, could it be possible he felt the same way?

In a moment your knees are bent over his lap, your body much closer to his as he turns to look at you. 

“Would it be within reason to ask to kiss you?” 

Your stomach does a backflip and your mouth goes dry. Was he serious? You’d had a crush on this man for years, ever since Hannah had brought you into the friend group in high school. She was younger than you, but you both found yourself in the same chemistry class where you became fast friends. Josh was always the forbidden fruit, someone who you wanted but could never have. Not because you thought Hannah would disapprove, no, in fact she actually knew about your crush, but it was forbidden because you never thought he’d want you too. You always thought he wanted Sam, which you couldn’t blame him for. She was beautiful. But here you were, legs draped across his lap, bodies merely inches apart and he was asking to kiss you. 

“Are you being serious?” You ask, “Josh, I’ve wanted to kiss you since senior year.” 

“I guess we have some time to make up for then.” He says, hand skating up your arm and tangling in your hair as he brings your face to his and connects your lips. You melt into the touch as he tilts his head to get even closer, his free hand coming to rest on the bent knee positioned over his lap. 

Your eyes flutter shut as his lips meld to yours. The kiss starts out slow, just a sweet connection of your lips gradually moving against each other. But soon enough you feel his tongue at the seam of your mouth, so you open and take him greedily, your hands coming to rest on his neck and on the side of his face. Your thumb swipes across his cheek as his hand pulls on your knee, pulling on it gently.

“Come here.” He grunts against you as he guides you into his lap, straddling him. Your tongue meets his as he enters your mouth again and you moan into the contact, hands moving from his face to run through his hair, his own hands go to your ass, holding you against him as your lips engage in a dance for dominance. 

He parts from you to kiss the corner of your mouth, your cheek, your jaw before arriving at your neck where he tenderly nips at the sensitive flesh. You roll your head back and allow him access and when he bites down only to lick over it and play nice, you let out a sweet moan. He nuzzles into your shoulder and your arms go around his shoulders, embracing him. You could feel yourself getting wet from the kissing alone. 

“Keep making noises like that and I won’t be able to contain myself.” He grunts into your hair and you push him back just a little, just enough to have him look at your face.

“I don’t want you to contain yourself.” You say honestly, you were putting it all out in the open. How many times had you raked your own hands down your body imagining they were his? You were ready for this, hell, you yearned for it. Yearned for him. 

“Yeah?” He asks, searching your eyes. 

“Yeah.” You confirm, a low tremor in your voice from the sheer excitement and want. 

“Get up and follow me.” He says, you obey, sliding off his lap and allowing him to get up. He turns back to you, holding out a hand. You take it, allowing him to lead you up the stairs, around the corner and into his old room. You pause for a second as he closes the door behind you and you take the time to look around the room. It was identical to the last time you’d seen it, when you would sit on the floor with him and Chris and play videogames on the flatscreen across the room. The only thing that was different was the dust covering the shelves and end tables, it was clear the Washingtons hadn’t been here all year. You didn’t blame them. 

“Looks the same.” You observe as he wraps his arms around your waist from behind, observing the dark room with you. 

“Haven’t really touched it since…” He lingers but doesn’t finish. 

“But the, uh, bed is clean. Washed all the bedding before everyone got here.” He purrs in your ear, hands going from around your middle and to your hips. You turn in his grasp, his hands just slide along your body as you do until they’re planted on your hips again. 

“Better get to it then.” You say lowly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. That appears to be all the invitation he needs, dipping his head to connect your lips once more. He gently pushes you backwards until the back of your knees hit the mattress. You help him in ripping off your cardigan, discarding it somewhere across the room. Next to go was your spaghetti-strap tank top, leaving you in your bra and jeans. He leans back to admire you, hands sliding up your waist and to your breasts. He cups them gently, squeezing you like you were delicate glass. You grab at his flannel and begin to chug it down his shoulders, he assists you before letting it fall to the ground. His shirt joins the pile soon and now it was your time to admire him. You lean back in to lavish his neck in kisses and licks and move down to his shoulder, biting gently as his hands run up and down your back and he hums lowly in his throat. His hand hitches when it hits your bra strap and he expertly unhooks it, leaving it hanging around your shoulders. You pull back to shuck it from your body. He shamelessly stares, bringing his hand back to them once again and testing the weight of you in his hands. His gaze flicks back up to yours.

“Lay down.” He invites, watching you as you take it and flop down onto the mattress, propping yourself on your elbows as you meet his gaze. He bends over you, unbuttoning your jeans before hooking fingers around your belt loops and beginning to tug your pants down your legs. You assist by lifting your ass off the bed as he gets them past your thighs, to your shins and then off completely. He then works at his own pants before pulling them off, leaving him in his boxers.

He looked so good, your mouth watered for him. You wanted to taste him, to feel him against your tongue, anything to make him feel good. You sit up before standing completely. He looks at you confused but when you sink to your knees in front of him, it seems to click. 

“Can’t say no to that.” He chuckles, watching as you hook your fingers under the waistband of his boxers. You slowly bring them down, revealing the last bit of his happy trail, top of the pelvis until finally his cock springs free, half-hard. You peer up at him, a little smile tugging at your lips as you lick your hand and begin to pump him slowly. He groans as you stroke him, head tilting backwards and eyes fluttering closed, which you thought was funny considering you hadn’t even taken him into your mouth yet. 

But then you finally do, starting at the tip, you swallow him down as much as you can before wrapping your hand around the part you cannot. Then, you start to slowly come off him, lips and tongue running over every ridge and vein until you reach the very tip again and repeat the process. If you could bottle the noises he made while you worked him over, you would and keep it forever. His grunts and groans were everything you’d ever wanted to hear since you’d met him. All those nights fantasizing was nothing compared to the real thing. His hand comes to the back of your head, not to push you or hurry you along, but just to feel you as you slide back and forth. You fight back a gag as he hits the back of your throat, hot tears spring from your eyes but it’s worth it just to make him feel good. You mourn for your mascara but this was about him, so makeup be damned. 

“God, you're good at that.” He moans before pulling out of your mouth with a pop. You look up at him, drool covering your chin as you bring a hand to wipe it up. 

“And as much as I’d like to paint your pretty face, I wanna feel what it’s like to be inside you.”

You nod and he helps you stand before escorting you to the bed, you lay down, pulling off your remaining panties and throwing them across the room. You’d have to go on a scavenger hunt to find all of your belongings later but that wasn’t a problem for now. 

You peer over at him when you hear a rummaging sound and he’s pawing through his bedside drawer.

“Condom?” You ask, resting your head on your bent arm as you watch.

“I swear there’s one in here.” He says, frustrated.

“Aha!” He pulls out a foil wrapped condom before tearing open the packaging with his teeth. He pulls it out, rolling it onto his erect member before using two fingers to beckon you over. 

“Come to the edge of the bed.” He says, voice like honey. You shake your head though, you’d wanted to ride him for a while now and tonight seemed like the perfect opportunity.

“I want to ride you.” You say, scooting over and patting the space beside you. 

“Come get comfy.” You purr, flipping over so your ass was on display. It seems to work as you watch his adam's apple bob before he’s climbing into bed and settling in amongst the pillows.

“I could never say no to you.” He smiles at the ceiling before turning his attention to you.

“I’m going to remember you said that.” You say, climbing over him. He immediately goes for your tits, grasping them in both hands before running his thumbs over your perked nipples. You moan as he does, the attention sending energy straight down to your core. You look back down at him to see him biting his lip as he watches his hands play with the soft flesh. 

“Like what you see?” You ask, your hands slotting over his against your chest. 

“Always have.” He admits, eyes finally finding yours as you peer down at him from your perched position. You tilt your head, trying to find the answer in his eyes before you even asked the question.

“Really?” 

He drops his hands to your thighs and sighs.

“Well duh. Have you seen you?” He squeezes your thighs gently. “You’re like super hot.” 

You laugh, taking a hand to cup the side of his face.

“Wish you told me that when we were seniors.” You say, he turns to kiss your wrist.

“Live and learn.” He chuckles before tapping your thigh. “Now, are you gonna do what you came here for?” 

You look behind you, he’s still angrily erect, a bead of precum drips from the tip. 

“That looks painful.” You coo, scooting backwards, “Let me fix that for you.” 

“Thank God.” He sighs to the ceiling, you just laugh again before taking him in your hand and running his cock through your folds, slicking him in your juices. You were ready for him, had been since he kissed you, even more when he groped you so shamelessly. 

Once he was well and truly slicked, you align him with your entrance before slowly sinking down on him. You cry out as you take him inch by inch, he lets out a guttural moan when you finally hit the base, stretching you out.

“Shit, you’re tight.” He grits through his teeth, hands coming to hold your waist in support. 

 He sits up and ducks his head to lavish your nipple in attention, sucking gently before licking over with his hot tongue. You sigh at the sensation, nails raking over his back as you begin to move up slowly, rising on your knees. He felt so good, like he was made for you. The burning sensation had already subsided and all there was now was sweet pleasure. You wondered what your relationship would be like after this, were you going to go on actual dates now, be fuck buddies? You knew your feelings were too strong for him to be anything casual, your heart would break at the prospect of this being a one time thing. But it all depended on what he wanted, what he thought of you. He admitted he had thought you were attractive to him since you’d met but is that all he felt? Lust?

 He moves to kiss your shoulder, nipping at the skin there as you sink back down. He could be so tender, you’ve learned in your time with him tonight, so caring. It again made you question his intentions, how could someone who was so loving want just to fuck you? He brings his head up to kiss you again, swallowing down your moans as you sink back down, more quickly this time, harder. Soon enough you’ve got a pace down and he’s snapping his hips up to meet you in the middle, creating a delicious friction that has you hurtling towards an orgasm at lightning speed. You can see it on the horizon, steadily approaching. 

You separate your tangled tongues to warn him of your upcoming release.

“Josh,” You pant as he snaps his hips up once more, you pause to let out a moan, “Baby, I’m gonna cum.” 

“By all means,” He quips, letting out another grunt as you meet his pelvis. 

With another thrust, you’re there, cumming as you cry out his name. Your walls flutter around him and it’s enough to have him flustered. 

“Oh shit, I’m gonna-” But he doesn’t finish before he fills the condom with his seed, letting out a long moan that makes you clench around him. You loved the sounds he made throughout this whole experience, loved the way he touched you, the way he fucked you, you loved… him. 

After he is finished, you slide from him, settling in amongst the sheets next to him. He pulls off the condom before tying it off, tossing it into the trash can beside the bed. After, he pulls you onto his chest and wraps an arm around you, fingers running up and down your spine. You rest a hand on his stomach, eyes fluttering shut after the effort you put into making love to him. He kisses your temple before checking the time on the alarm clock on the side table. 

“Shit.” He mutters. You peek your eyes open. 

“What?” You ask, heart dropping for some reason, like you could’ve caused the sudden change of mood.

“I’ve gotta do something.” He says, unwrapping from you and finding his clothes. You follow in suit, finding your panties before sliding them up your legs. Before long you’re both dressed. He catches your hand and pulls you into an embrace. 

“Listen…” He says, pulling away. You dread the look on his face, like he was fighting something internally. 

“What? Is something wrong?” You ask quietly, almost afraid of the question.

“I know I invited you here.” He starts, for some reason he looks… guilty?

“But you need to leave.” 

Your heart sinks to your stomach… what? 

“What?” You ask, voice harboring a little quiver.

“Shit’s about to go down and I don’t want you near it.” He says, honestly. But, what did that mean? What shit was about to go down? 

“What do you mean?” You ask, completely lost.

“I need you to trust me.” He grabs your shoulders and gives you a look. A look that strikes you as the most serious you’d ever seen him. You have no choice but to trust him, to do as he asked. You still had a million questions but his stare silences you. 

“I do.” Is what you settle on and he kisses your forehead at the acceptance. 

“Great.” He lets you go before making his way to the door and opening it for you, you walk through and he follows closely as you make your way down the stairs and to the door. You were sore, still feeling him between your legs. Normally, it’d be something that made you blush but you were feeling too confused, too puzzled to think of anything else as you pull on your parka and grab your suitcase. You turn to say something but he grabs your face and kisses you deeply. You return in, eyes closing and hands going to his waist before you both pull apart.

“I promise everything will make sense by dawn.” He says, letting you go and opening the large front door. You just nod, what else could you do? 

So, you left, stepping into the cold night and soon enough you’re in the cable car, slowly making your way down the mountain. A million questions swarmed your head but those would have to wait… until dawn.  ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ─── A note: Hope you enjoyed that! Had to change a few things for the plot to work but nonetheless hope it was fun to read! ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ─── Taglist (comment to be on it)

@sprite-real

[psychedelic-ink]

ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐒

ㅤㅤghostface!mike schmidt x afton daughter!reader

genre: smut, minors dni, dark content, ghostface au

word count: 4.5k

summary: how were you supposed to know one of your closest friends was also the one in desperate need for revenge?

warnings: dubcon (this can also be considered noncon to some since there's the fear of death in place so if that's not your thing please don't read), knife use, manipulation, voyeurism but no one actually sees, daddy kink, piv, blowjob, nonconsensual somnophilia, male masturbation, reader doesn't know what william did, dirty talking, creampie

a/n: a day late but happy thanksgiving everyone 🖤 i am thankful for my josh hutcherson phase (normally I was going to post this yesterday but oh well you get it)

**dividers made by @saradika xx

How long has it been since you came here? How long has it been since you witnessed the clean beige exterior that now looked more suffocating than liberating? 

You observe the dust over the picture frames as you drop the suitcases, the sudden release of weight making your back bend back like a bow. You stare for a while. Your dad had bought this particular vacation home ages ago. Ironically he had done it so the family could spend some quality time together over the summers. That was before the incident. Before your mom left, only leaving you and him. 

Now the dirt outside was muddy from the pouring rain. Leaves turning to mush under the pressure of tires and boots. You hear the faint sound of the car door closing. Moments later Mike stands behind you. You can feel his breath tickling the back of your neck. It soothes you. 

“So this is the famous summer house huh?” he looks around, not bothering to close the door behind him, he takes a step further. “God, it’s cold in here. Please tell me there’s a heater somewhere.” 

“Probably in the basement. Remind you this place wasn’t meant for winter.” 

“Yeah I can see that from the windows,” he turns and finally closes the door. “It’s a bit eerie that anyone might just watch us from down there.” 

You scoff, “Who’s gonna watch? This house is the only one. Besides it’s just a couple days.” 

Your dad was finally selling the place. Meaning you had limited time to pack the things you wanted to keep before the rest was torn out. You knew packing all the old pictures would be overwhelming so you asked Mike to join and he was more than eager to help out—which was a bit surprising but you were grateful nonetheless. He was always kind to you. Always so gentle. He made your heart jump whenever he looked into your eyes, observing, searching them for something more. You never knew what he was searching for. 

Mike walks ahead with just his backpack, he’s wearing all black: black hoodie, black pants, black jacket. . . he’s completely contrasting his surroundings. He turns to you with rounded eyes and you melt a little. 

“So where am I staying?” 

“Let me show you,” It’s odd being in the halls again, you remember them feeling endless when you were a kid. The floor underneath you creaks. “Luckily we have a bunch of rooms. I don’t know what my parents were thinking, it’s not like we entertained a lot of guests.” 

“Well, it worked out in the end. Now I have a place to say.” 

“Silver lining,” you agree, showing his room. “Make yourself comfortable. I’m going to head to bed and we can brainstorm where to start in the morning.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he steps inside the room and you can’t help but be reminded of how out of place he looks. “Good night.” 

“Good night, Mike.” 

He stands at the door with furrowed brows and downturned lips. Not that it’s important what his expression is. It’s not like anyone can see it underneath his mask. The mask that he’d bought last second. It is now or never. And this is his chance to avenge his brother, his broken family. This is the solution to all of it. 

It doesn’t help that you’re soundly sleeping. Your lips slightly parted, more skin showing with each rise and fall of your chest. Mike takes a step further inside. The wind howls against the naked windows. Yet, your room managed to stay warm. You turn around to lay on your back and he sees you parting your legs underneath the comforter. His cock grows hard at the sight, he’d love to take you right now. Fuck you until you gasp awake, your sweet cunt dripping with arousal—you’d tell him to stop, not recognizing who he is and he’d go on until you’re creaming around him. Your body becoming sweaty and warm. 

Mike licks his lips and rubs a palm over the outline of his cock. His eyes search your room. You hadn’t unpacked yet. Your suitcase open with clothes pouring out the edges. You probably just picked that flimsy shirt you were wearing and headed to bed. He slowly walks to the pile of clothes, within, he finds a pair of black lace underwear. Mike picks it up. A gloved thumb follows the patterns of delicate flowers. His lips curl upward, just what you were planning on doing with him here? In your old family home where it’s just the two of you?

He stands at the edge of your bed. He’s amazed at how much he can get away with without waking you. It’s amazing how much you trust him without a second thought. 

Too bad he doesn’t trust you. 

With your panties, he fists his cock, the fabric catches against the head prompting the jerk of his hips. He strokes himself fast and hard. Precome seeping into the delicate fabric. His eyes are glued to your lips, the pacing of your breath, your body that’s sprawled underneath the sheets. His cock twitches. Balls tightening as he imagines the sounds you would make for him with a knife against your throat and him deep inside your cunt. 

The smallest of groans manage to escape him as he spills into his fist and the fabric, thick ropes of come staining your panties, he inches closer. Hips stuttering helplessly while wishing to see himself dirty your pretty parted lips. He knows he will soon enough. He sees the way you look at him, how desperate you are for affection and a sense of belonging. Mike enjoys the sense of control he has over you. It makes it all that much more sweeter. 

He’ll take you. Break you. And pull you back together again. 

He’ll ruin William Afton’s precious little girl. 

You’re blessed with a little bit of sun today. Bits of dust sway in the air, boxes upon boxes standing around you and Mike. Two empty coffee cups lay idly on the floor. You slept like a baby last night, which was something you hadn’t expected, yet when you woke up you felt a bit off. Your door was open for starters. And you definitely remember closing it. Mike had just shrugged it off, saying that you were tired and probably forgot. 

Which is likely, now that you think about it. 

Mike picks up one of the framed photos of you and your dad. Despite the sunlight filling the living room, a chill settles over your skin. He observes the photo longer than necessary. Then he traces the engraved name underneath the picture. 

“Afton,” he murmurs. “I keep forgetting you’re an Afton.” 

He doesn’t let go of the picture as his eyes meet yours, you don’t like the look in them. He almost seems angry. 

“What does it matter?” you say in a sheer tone. “It’s not like it means anything whether I’m an Afton or not.” 

“I’d beg the differ. And I know some other people would too.” 

Mike places the photo in a box, eyes dropping to the floor. Heat rises to your cheeks. You’re confused. Very confused. “Are talking about Freddy Fazbear’s? You know I don’t like talking about that Mike.” 

“No need to get defensive. I’m just saying that your surname isn’t nothing,” he gives you a small smile but it does little to calm your nerves. “You were never suspicious of him?” 

“Of what?” 

He gives you a blank stare, “Of the murders.” 

Your mouth opens and very promptly snaps shut. Mike was never interested in this before. He hadn’t even asked about it, not once. Your shoulders drop and your heart feels heavy in your chest—Were you ever suspicious of him? Of your own father? To be fair you never thought about it. You shut your eyes and plugged your ears. You never wanted to think about that wretched pizzeria and all the things that happened in it. 

Your stomach jumps when he reaches out, curling his palm over the slope of your knee. You release a long breath. 

“Sorry for bringing it up,” he says, his eyes now soft. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” 

“That’s okay.” It wasn’t. You get up, feeling the weight of his gaze as you do. “Alright, I think I’m gonna take a brisk shower then we can make pasta or something.” 

“I can start on that,” he answers. “Pesto or marinara?” 

“You can pick. I’m fine with either.” 

He nods and you leave before he stands. You feel icky all over. The dust and the sudden reality check about your father’s pizzeria and his role in all that had happened make you desperate to scrub yourself clean. 

You swiftly enter the bathroom, shutting the door behind you, giving it a hard shove until you hear the satisfying click. The inside smells of lavender. 

You strip and throw your clothes into the washing machine. The water warms up easily when you step inside. You draw the curtain shut and sigh at the clean water caressing your skin. Warm showers are the solution to everything. Even daddy issues. You begin to wash your hair, a soft moan dropping from your lips as you massage your scalp. The water trickles down your neck and between your breasts. With soapy hands, you give yourself a firm squeeze and graze your thumbs over the pebbled nipples. 

“That’s nice,” you sigh, hands moving up to rinse your hair. Maybe after the shower you can lay down and treat yourself until lunch is ready. Your vibrator’s fully charged, and the prospect of Mike hearing the faint buzz of it makes your pussy throb. 

Just as you reach for the loofah a soft click echoes in the steamy room. 

Your body tenses. Your heart suddenly beating a mile a minute. 

Your eyes turn in the direction of the door but you can’t see well with the curtain. All you see is the blurry darkness of the hall thanks to the open entrance. “Mike?” you call out, voice trembling. “If that’s you it’s not funny.” 

Of course, it’s not him. Even from here, you can smell the pasta sauce. Pesto. You desperately search for any kind of weapon you can use but all you see are shampoo bottles and the loofah you’re currently holding. You swallow. Turning back to the curtain, you see a faint shadow. It tilts its head. 

You need to attack. Need to do something before they do. How did they even get in here? 

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. 

But you’re frozen with fear as the stranger curls their fingers around the shower curtain. The rest happens suddenly. The curtain is ripped open and you see who it is—Mostly. You see the mask, two pitch-black eyes staring back at you. Instead of screaming you jump away, the porcelain slips from underneath you, you fall and as soon as you do, you’re swallowed by darkness. 

Your eyes flutter open. There’s a sharp sting against your forehead. 

“Thank god you’re awake.” 

“M—Mike?” 

Your vision stops shaking and you finally see him. Mike, and his two soft brown eyes staring down at you. He’s holding a ball of cotton, the white stained by a bit of red. “What. . .” You attempt to get up but quickly forgo your decision when your head throbs. Mike clicks his tongue and presses the cotton to your head, your eyes tear up as it stings, but it slightly subsides seconds later. Looking down, you notice a towel was thrown over you. 

“I should be asking you that, how the hell did you slip?” 

“I. . . I didn’t.” 

“What do you mean you didn’t?” 

“There. . there was someone in the shower,” Your blood freezes as you remember. “He. . .I think it was a he? He was wearing a mask and he opened the curtain and fuck—I was so scared Mike.” 

Your arms move on their own and wrap around his neck, pulling him close. It takes him only a second to mimic your movement, wrapping his arms around your cold shivering body. His fingers trace your spine. A pleasant shiver runs up your back. “It’s okay. I’ve got you now,” he murmurs. “But. . . the door was closed.” 

What? “What?” You shake your head as you pull away from him, ignoring the towel slightly sliding lower. “There’s no way. How did you see me then?” 

“Well, I shouted for you but you didn’t respond. Then I knocked and you didn’t respond again. The door wasn’t locked so I let myself in.” 

“And you found me unconscious? No one was here?” 

“Only you.” 

You shudder. That’s absolutely terrifying. 

“Come on let’s. . .” he swallows and you notice his eyes lingering where your towel has fallen. The swell of your breasts exposed. Looking away, you pull the fabric up and properly wrap it around yourself. His eyes move up to meet your gaze. “Let’s get you dressed and then we can eat.” 

Your last night here. Finally. 

After the unfortunate fall in the shower, you never managed to shake the feeling of being watched in your own house. You didn’t say anything to Mike but you knew he saw how freaked out you were from your eyes, by the way you would jump at every sound. Every time you closed your eyes you saw the stranger’s mask—those damn black sockets and open mouth staring back at you. It didn’t help that every morning you found your door wide open. You could’ve sworn that you closed it. But without fail, the door was open in the morning. 

And you’re so grateful to be done with it all. 

Stacks of boxes stand tall near the door. You were adamant about having everything ready tonight so that as soon as the sun peaked through the two of you could leave. Which was why you had ordered Mike to pack his suitcase— you’re doing the same, folding clothes with shaky hands and hoping the morning would come faster. 

Throwing your shirt into the suitcase your brows furrow, “What the hell?” you murmur as you lower yourself to your knees. The drawers and closet are emptied out, so why the hell do you only have three pairs of underwear? 

Sweat beads at your forehead. With panic, you rummage through the neatly folded clothes. You don’t care about the mess or the fact that you’ll have to fold them again—why can’t you find the other pairs? 

You’re completely defeated as your entire body deflates. Just three. You remember packing ten. They’re gone. All gone. Stolen. 

Your heart lurches and you feel it beating in your throat. You want to leave. You want to leave. You want to leave. 

The phone rings. 

It’s loud and booming. Your eyes shot towards the hallway. It’s the landline. A phone that hadn’t been used for god knows how long. You weren’t even aware that it was still connected. 

You blink rapidly, forcing the sting of tears to fade. You stand on shaky legs as you head towards the phone in the living room. You vaguely hear Mike mumbling a melody that’s familiar but also not at the same time. 

You stare at your reflection in the widows as you pick up the phone. Normally you’d appreciate the view. The dark sky, the swaying pine trees. But not today. 

You clear your throat, “H—Hello?” 

You hear a faint static, a low internal breathing, then the silence talks back, saying your name. You shudder at the rasp in his voice, fear weighing you down and gluing you to the floor. “Who is this?” you ask. 

“You know who I am,” he murmurs and takes a deep inhale. “We’ve met before remember? That moment in the bathroom.” Your body freezes all over, he chuckles, then speaks as if reminiscing a fond memory. “You looked so amazing. Nipples hard, body wet. Were you touching yourself?” 

You remain silent, eyes glued to the hall that is lit by Mike’s room. You want to call out. You really do. But you’re terrified. 

“Was it him you were thinking about?” 

“That’s. . .” you swallow. “That’s none of your business.” 

“Everything you do is my business,” he snaps but then the harsh baritone of his voice quickly softens. “Fine. Don’t. I know the answer anyway.” 

“What do you want?” 

“I want the truth, Miss Afton.” Your breath catches, your knees begin to shake. “Just answer my question and maybe you won’t die.” 

You remain silent and you hear the smile in his voice, “Good girl. Now, do you know your father is a murderous piece of trash? Yes or no?” 

You close your eyes, shake your head, you can’t answer. “Fine,” he huffs. “Do you think you deserve to live?” 

“I. . .” Your mouth goes dry and your fingers tighten around the phone. “I do.” 

Honestly, you’re not sure if you believe that. 

“Oh, I’m sorry but that’s just not correct,” he answers with a melodic lilt. “You don’t deserve anything. Why should your life matter more than the other kids that were killed by your father?” 

“It shouldn’t.” 

Your voice barely comes out in a whisper now. Your eyes drop to the floor, maybe if you run and get to Mike in time you can save you both? 

“Is your dad a killer yes or no?” then he adds. “You better answer correctly this time.” 

“I don’t know,” you say this time, he clicks his tongue in annoyance. 

“Wrong.” You close your eyes, taking a deep breath you open them again. All you see is your reflection. “I’ve been watching you,” he says. “You sleep like a log. I watched you. Fucked my fist while you were sleeping soundly, dreaming of sunshine and rainbows,” he sighs. “Or whatever the fuck girls like you dream about.”

You’re appalled by the sudden gush of wetness that courses through you. You shake your head, trying to push the images away. “Please don’t do this,” you beg. 

He stops speaking for a good while, for a second you think he hung up, but then you hear his breath in your ear and know that he’s still there. “I keep forgetting.” 

“Forgetting what?” 

“That you’re an Afton.” 

Your heart drops to the pits of your stomach. Every fiber of skin burning and tingling with the realization. You’ve heard those words before. You’ve heard the hidden accusation in them. Your ear burns from the phone pressed against it, you press it harder, not wanting to miss a second of dialogue. Your lips brush against the plastic as you do. 

“Mike?”

The line goes dead. Silent. And you realize you preferred words coming from the other line. Tortorously slow, as if in a dream, you place the phone back in its cradle. You feel him before you see him. Your head turns. You feel every muscle pulling as you do. 

And there he is. 

The man with the mask. 

“Mike?” you say again with less conviction. He tilts his head, not moving, not saying anything. Your body stiffens and your eyes drop to his hands where you see the sharp edge of a knife. You drag your gaze back to the mask, hoping that you’re staring into his eyes, “Why?” 

He takes a step forward and you take a step back. You’re inches away from the wide windows. “I had a brother,” he says, you’re surprised to find yourself relaxing upon hearing his voice. “I’ve tracked down the suspects. Looked at similar cases for years. Every bit of information leads to Afton.” 

“I had nothing to do with it.” 

Another step. The glass is cool underneath your palms. 

“You father did,” he answers. He stands only an inch away now, your stomach jumps when he presses the sharp edge of the knife against your neck. You hold your breath. “The day he took him is the day I lost everything. My family shattered. All because of him. And now. . .” Mike presses the knife harder, a hint of pain blossoming from where he’d cut. Your eyes snap shut. “Now I’ll take his little girl. Eye for an eye.” 

“Mike, please,” you whisper. Then you say something that surprises you both. “Take off the mask. If I’m going to die, I want to see you.” 

He tenses but obliges anyway. The mask falls to the floor, his hair mussed, soft curls fall over his forehead. A bit of stubble on his chin from not shaving at all since you two arrived. He doesn’t look scary, not at all. He looks vengeful, yes, but the softness in his eyes is still there. 

“What are you going to do to me?” 

Mike’s nostrils flare as he inhales, he exhales through parts lips, you feel his warm breath on your skin. “I’m going to ruin you.” The knife is replaced with his hand, he squeezes your throat, pulls you away from the glass, and slams you into it. “You’re mine now. I own you.” 

You shudder as he lets you go, his hands fumble with his jeans, and the fabric pools at his ankles. “Get on your knees and suck daddy’s cock.” 

You stare at him, wide-eyed but do as you’re told anyway. You drop to your knees. His cock achingly hard in front of you. He holds himself and drags the wet tip across your lips. He slides the underside of his cock against your face and without thought you dart your tongue out, tasting him. Mike groans, the sound rattling in his chest. With no warning given, he slips his cock between your lips and stops halfway. Your eyes water at how thick he is. 

When you look up you see he’s holding his phone, camera directed at you with his cock in your mouth. “Sorry,” he says with a faint smirk. “I need a souvenir to remember how good you look with my cock in your mouth. Who knew Afton’s precious daughter was such a slut.” 

Your eyes flutter as he shoves the phone back into his jacket pocket. He cradles your head and starts fucking himself deep into your mouth. “You know,” he rasps. Mike pushes himself especially deep and smiles broadly when you choke around him. “You really should be thanking me for not slitting your throat during all the nights I watched you.” 

He suddenly stops and pulls out until it’s only the head between your lips. His cock throbs on your tongue, he forces your gaze up to him, “Thank me for not slitting your throat.” 

“Thank—” It’s hard to speak with him still between your lips. You swallow and try again, your nipples tight. “Thank you for not slitting my throat.” 

“Such an obedient girl,” he muses. “I’m going to fuck you in every corner of this house. Get up—” 

He says that but lifts you himself, impatient, he presses you against the window, your cheek smushed against the clear surface. Your neck strains a little. His breath caresses the back of your neck, his lips on your ear, “Time to pay for your father’s sins.”

Mike lifts your shirt and pulls down your sweats. His cock lays heavy above the small of your back. Warm and wet. You clench as he pushes you forward, your breasts fully pressed against the glass. He kicks your legs apart, holding your arms back, Mike slips inside you with ease. Your breath halts in your throat. You only feel pleasure. You drip down his length, and with a groan, he buries himself to the hilt. 

“I knew you’d been waiting for this,” he groans. “So fucking wet—” 

“M—Mike—” 

He clicks his tongue and cocks his head to the side, his forehead brushing against the back of your head. “Not Mike.” 

“Daddy,” you moan as he pulls out and slams back in. You choke. “Daddy—” 

Mike fucks into your harder, the sound of skin against skin echoes in the room, wet squelches following. Your knees shake as you find yourself completely immobile against the glass. His fingers curl around your neck and he yanks your head back, hips relentless. 

“Look at that, anyone could see you now. I wish we had an audience.” Your cunt squeezes him like a vice, his hips stutter forward, a sharp moan rattling in his throat. He laughs. “Does that turn you on?” Helpless, you nod. “That’s it, take it. Daddy’s whore.” 

“Kiss me—please—” 

The plea takes him by surprise, he stops, hand tensing around your neck, you feel the pulse of his cock deep inside you. He drags his hips down your neck and teases you with his teeth. Goosebumps rise over your skin. And finally—finally—those perfect plush lips meet your own. It’s cruel really. The red strings of fate that tie you two together. You’re still not sure what to make of it all. Or of him. But you surrender. You surrender to his mouth and tongue. Mike swallows you whole. His tongue moves lavishly over yours, sliding and sucking as he presses harder inside you. 

“Gonna come inside,” he breathes into your mouth. His hand drops between your legs, your body shaking as he draws tight circles around your clit. 

Mike’s lips meet your throat, gentle then ravenous, making their way to the blankets of your clavicle, scraping the delicate skin. You arch against him, pleasure building, craving more. He thrusts harder, deeper, the pleasure increasing with each movement. His fingers grab your hips, and you can feel yourself tightening around him, his cock slamming against your core inside of you. Obscene sounds come from where he’s playing with your clit. You feel like a rag doll. And soon the coil snaps, you’re falling. 

Your entire body goes tense, his name leaving your lips in an urgent plea as the pleasure overtakes you. You shake and tremble, Mike continues to hammer into you, hand leaving your core and bracing itself near your head. Briefly, you manage to look outside. See the darkness that looms over the forest. Then you notice his reflection in the glass, eyes meeting yours. 

He smiles. 

Mike moans loudly, lips parting, his hips stutter over and over, spilling himself inside. Your eyes roll back, a whimper falling from your mouth as you take all of it. He holds himself there until his come starts to drip from where he stretches you. Your forehead finds purchase on the glass. Cold and soothing. His lips brush the back of your neck. 

“You look so tired already but we’re not done yet,” he parts your lips with his fingers and pushes them inside. Teary, you find his eyes in the reflection once more. He’s pleased. “I was serious in what I said, Miss Afton. I own you, now.” 

“Mike. . .” 

“And no matter where you run off to,” he murmurs, cutting you off. A hint of annoyance in using his name.  “I’ll always come back.”

[sucker4colby]

Just a favor

Warning : cussing, gets steamy 🤭

Word count :1636

Summary: you asked your friend Colby for a favor in which he does it very well.

Pairing: Colby Brock x female reader

“Colby” you called out your friends name running down the stairs almost tripping over the last step in a rush. He called out from the kitchen where he was sitting on the counter a spoon of cereal in one hand and his phone in the other. Running in you slid across the wooden floors due to your socks you came up behind him throwing your arms around his shoulders from behind causing his spoon to hit his bowl of cereal loudly. “ you know I love you so much right? And you’re my absolute favorite person ever.” You gushed at him leaving slobbery kisses on his cheek. Scrunching his nose he put his hand on your face to prevent you from attacking his cheek pushing you away.

“ what do you want ?” He asked grumpily wiping off your kisses causing you to pout at him.

“ I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend.” You told him going straight to the point. You were supposed to be filming a scene with your ex boyfriend today for the show you were cast in, you broke things off with him because he was controlling and he continued to message you thinking he still had a chance. During your whole relationship he hated Colby because he knew Colby had a crush on you but you weren’t the type to cheat and reassured him but it wasn’t enough so what better way to show up than with the guy he was jealous of. Plus Colby owed you for covering for him when he was in prank wars.

“Why?” He asked turning to look at you on his stool. “ josh is supposed to be a guest in this episode we’re filming and I want him to lay off.” You whined hoping that Colby would say yes because he liked you that much. “ no , why pretend, when it can be real.” He smiled his beautiful smile at you cheeks bones lifted while he grabbed your hand to pull you in. You yelped stumbling into his parted legs hands resting on his shoulder to keep yourself from falling into him. You were nose to nose with him your wide eyes staring into his blue ones. “ oh my god Colby yes or no.” You asked pushing off his shoulders. “ do I get to kiss you.” He asked quirking an eyebrow at you. You rolled your eyes at his childish behavior. “ yeah whatever.” You mumbled walking away to get ready. “ love you” he called at your retreating figure getting a middle finger in return.

****************

You had to rush Colby to get ready so you could Make it to hair and makeup but he had taken his sweet time getting ready almost making you late. You were running through the studio building the set was set up in, Colby’s fingers interlaced with yours so he wouldn’t get lost. He tried to keep up with your scurrying feet trying to dodge people as easily as you did but it was hard when he was a lot more taller than you. He couldn’t even enjoy the feeling of your hands interlocked with each other because it felt like you were going to dislocate his shoulder every time you did a sudden turn as you tugged him along.

To his relief you had made it into the hair and makeup trailer following you in as you barged in but in a calmer pace. You wanted to groan out loud seeing your ex sitting in one of the chairs getting his hair done looking up from his phone to look at you his eyes lighting up. The joy didn’t last once he caught sight of the blue eyed boy trailing behind him. Smirking to yourself you turn around to face your friend reaching for his hand. “ baby you can sit over there.” You smiled at Colby pointing over to the couch against the wall. He nodded about to walk away but you surprised him by tugging on his shirt catching his attention once more. You leaned up on your tippy toes and placed a kiss on his lips causing his breathe to hitch before pulling away and smiling up at him and skipping away to your chair. He stared at you dumbstruck that you actually went through with kissing him, something he had been wanting to do since he met you. His attention was token away from you at the sound of your ex slamming the trailer door on his way out angrily.

************

You had finished getting ready and change so you led Colby to sit on your chair while you filmed so he could watch you in action. He still couldn’t shake off the kiss you had given him early and he found himself wanting to feel your lips again, now that he had gotten a taste he wanted more. But His flirty demeanor was suddenly gone making him act all shy around you otherwise he would’ve stolen a couple kisses from you using the excuse that he was your “boyfriend”. You kissed his cheek goodbye running off a couple feet away to speak to the director about your scene. Now that you were somewhere else his attention was able to wonder off, he looked around in amazement at the production sight. It was like a colony of ants, everyone scurrying around talking loudly trying to get work done, it was an incredible sight. As he finished looking at the set his eyes met those of your ex causing his eyebrows to raise in amusement at the glare that was being sent his way. Feeling confident all over again he smiled smugly at him raising his hand and wiggling his fingers in a hello motion to antagonize him. He laughed at the visible scowl your ex portrayed moving his eyes back to your figure where you were walking towards set your ex heading that way for the scene.

**********

You hadn’t mentioned that your ex would be your love interest for this episode so Colby sat there angrily as your ex kept messing up the scene on purpose. You were getting impatient and irritated that he kept kissing you wrong on purpose even though the director had gotten onto him, he kept moving his head weird so he could block the cameras angle. Finally having enough you asked for a time out running off set and towards Colby. Your ex called your name but you ignored him angrily grabbing Colby’s hand and yanking him towards the back. “ woah hey slow down.” He pulled on your hand trying to calm you down. You sighed running your fingers through your hair in frustration. “ he’s doing that on purpose Colby! It’s fucking annoying and he’s going to slow production down.” You rambled angrily glaring over at your ex who was staring at you guys.

Colby frowned at your frustration state knowing how serious you took your job, it upset him knowing that jackass was making it hard on you just to be petty. Letting out a sigh he grabbed your Chin making you look him in the eyes. “ I know mama but you just have to do your part. Let him get in trouble. He’s taking advantage of the situation but at the end of the day you’re not going back to him and he knows that.” He reassured you trying to lift your spirits up which seemed to lift your spirits up just a tiny bit by the nod of your head. “ here I’ll get him off your ass.” He told you feeling confident in his next move. Before you could ask what he meant he pulled you in by your cheeks placing his lips on yours. It was just as good as the first one and he was going to make the most of it not getting enough of your plump lips against him.

Your head was spinning the smell of his cologne overwhelming you in the best way, you wanted to moan at the feeling of his fingers gripping your cheek and the other one that rest on your hip. You wanted nothing more than to go back to your trailer and letting him have his way with you with the way he was kissing you. The sound of your whimper traveled straight to his dick when he pulled back gently tucking on your button lip with his teeth, he let out a moan when you chased his lips wanting more. “ we’ll finish this later.” He promised knowing you were seeing him in a new light. He knew you no longer saw him as your friend and he was excited for you to wrap up so you could continue, he couldn’t get enough of you.

You looked so pretty to him, droopy eyes, swollen lips and breathless as you looked at him like he put the stars in the sky.

You honestly don’t know why you kept rejecting his advances towards you but after that kiss you felt like an idiot for doing so. You could’ve been getting kissed silly but you were so foolish and kept rejecting the gorgeous man in front you.

Nodding in agreement still in a daze from him you received one more kiss before being pushed by Colby towards set. Your ex had completely left your mind but he was furious and after that display he made sure to get it right not wanting to think of Colby’s lips on yours. Luckily for you he wanted to get as far away from you as possible allowing you to wrap up so you could go back to the awaiting boy. You guys laughed at your exs behavior happy that the message was loud and clear and he wouldn’t be bothering you anymore. In a happy mood you guys went home where you could continue your business in private.

[joshfutturman]

"like you were made for me" 18+

oneshot - soft dom josh tries his best to talk you through it, but he can't stop whimpering and moaning. (1.9k words) pairing - josh futturman (future man) + gn!reader tags: porn with no plot, doggystyle, soft!dom josh, pre-established relationship, gender neutral reader, penetration, kissing, no use of y/n, dirty talk, pre dick swap ig lmao, whimpering and whining, praising, creampie, petnames.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

he slips inside of you and lets out something between a moan and a whine, his firm grip on your hips tightening. you're splayed out on his bed, ass up, face down in his blue sheets. you watch eagerly over your shoulder as he pushes inside of you with a slow thrust. his eyes are on you, mouth forming an 'o' shape as he tries to steady his breathing.

your brows knit together, feeling him ease in, letting a moan slip of your own as he fills you so perfectly. "fuck, baby. . ." you whisper through another moan, trying not to clench around him - you know he won't last if you do.

josh mutters something under his breath, a small pep talk to himself as he loses himself in the feeling of you so tightly wrapped around him. "you feel s-so good. . ."

he eases out, and then back in, slow thrusts that have your back arching in the hopes of him going impossibly deeper inside of you. josh continues his sluggish pace, trailing a hand from your hip to the small of your back, pressing his palm down on your warm skin.

"t. . . takin' it s. . . so wel- fuuuuck. . ." josh melts against you. with each thrust he loses himself deeper into you, his throbbing cock begging for release. . . begging for more of you. he's so hard he swears it almost hurts.

and you smirk, knowing he can't even form complete sentences because of how good you're making him feel. "what was that, babe?" you chirp.

he gasps, furrowing his brow with his eyes tightly closed, "you're such- such a good- oh fuck. . ." swallowing thickly, he tries again, "you're- mhfff..." a whimper cuts him off, that sweet, sweet whimper of his. you could listen to it all day - the way it drips from his lips like honey.

you know he's trying to talk you through it, desperate to praise you and lavish you with sweet words but he just. . . can't. something about the way you feel, the intoxicating feeling of being inside of you, his cock pumping in and out at a lazy pace, he's falling apart already. just as he always does.

"keep talkin' to me, baby. . ." you whisper encouragingly, propping yourself up on your elbows as you keep your eyes on him, completely mesmerised by the intricate shift in his facial expression with every thrust.

he nods, josh would do anything you asked, anything. "mhm, you. . . you like that?" he hums, trying his absolute best. opening his eyes, he notices you looking back at him and another whimper falls from his lips as he locks eyes with you.

slowly, you nod - and then he picks up the pace in response, making you flinch a little at the sudden increase of pleasure. but you keep your gaze locked on his, silently encouraging him.

"you take me so. . . so well. my cock- hhhhf. . . fits perfectly inside of you," he whines, the words coming out before he even has a chance to think about what he's saying. both of his hands return to your hips, "oh fuck, j. . . just like that. . ." josh's eyes trail down to watch himself disappear inside of you.

you moan, eyes closing over as he attempts to form sentences. it's so hot, so cute, how he completely falls apart for you as soon as he slips inside your tight hole. he wants to make sure you feel good, that you feel taken care of, even if he can't even form one complete sentence.

"that's it. . . t-takin' my cock like a good- mhhhhf!" josh groans, head tilting back as his mouth falls open. he huffs into the air, his grasp on your hips growing tighter as his fingers dig into your flesh, "holy fuck!" he cries out.

biting your lip, you tense up, holding back any praises of your own - you want to make him feel like he's the one in charge, the one guiding this, even if you both secretly know that he's a mess at being in control most of the time. the praising can come later when he's pumped you full of his cum and is falling asleep on your chest.

you feel it pooling in your belly, that familiar urge, the overwhelming pleasure threatening to wash over you. the way josh's face is trembling, you can tell he's close too.

he feels almost feverish, his temperature rising as his dick glides in and out of you faster and harder. he doesn't just want you, he needs you, and he feels this every time you fuck. he can't think straight, mind focused on the sensation of his dick throbbing against your tight walls. small praises tumble from his lips, calling you pretty pet names as thoughts of you cumming around him clouds his entire being.

the intensity of his thrusts increases, causing his bedside table to shake, and his collection of precious figurines threatens to topple to the ground. but he doesn't care. he's too lost in you to care. how can he care when you're taking him so good like that, making all those sweet noises and looking over your shoulder at him the way you are?

"y. . .you gonna cum for me?" he gasps suddenly, attempting to sound dominant, and failing, his voice high-pitched and shaky.

but fuck, it still gets you. it's hotter that he's trying and failing. that boy is a loser, and that's what makes you want him so fucking badly.

"yes. . ." you groan with a nod, gripping his sheets as he pushes you forward with every thrust, his bed creaking under the pressure.

josh grins a little, mouth half open as he struggles to keep his breathing steady. he's feeling brave. hesitating for a few moments, he finally speaks, "say please."

your eyes snap open, looking up at him over your shoulder in surprise. his words cause you to clench around him, fluttering at his attempt at a commanding tone.

shit, that was kind of hot.

". . .what?" you blurt out.

he swallows hard, "i-i said, say please. . . and. . . i'll let you cum," josh bites his lip. it's too much. he can't stay upright anymore. his body hunches over yours, wrapping an arm around your stomach as he pistons into you with renewed vigour, one hand planted onto the bed for support.

"holy shit, josh," you whisper, praising him with your tone of voice alone, "please. . ."

"oh fuck. . ." he whispers into your ear, feeling his dick twitch at your pleading. he plants small kisses behind your ear, sloppily. "that's it, you're so. . . hhhf- so good for me. . . takin' my dick so well. . ."

his words combined with the way he's quickly thrusting into you has you close, so fucking close. he's pressing down against you, hardly able to keep himself upright as he fights back his own release. at this angle, he's sliding deeper, going harder.

"you're so. . ah, tight," josh pants, breath ragged in your ear, "keep. . . keep moaning for me."

and you do, body lowering until you're flush against his sheets, cries dripping from your lips over and over. "baby, i-"

"shhh, i know," josh coos, breath hitching, "just c- ah. . . fuck. just cum for me. . ." his tongue hangs from his mouth in concentration, tilting his head down to suck and lick against your neck messily.

the combined sensation of his wet tongue lapping desperately against your neck and fucking you like it's the last time he'll ever see you has you seeing stars. you claw at the sheets, gripping them into bundles in your fists, knuckles turning white. you can't hold on much longer, and neither can he.

you try to hold back, you really do, but suddenly he's whispering into your ear again.

"gonna take- hhhmmf. . . gonna take my cum baby? nice and deep?"

holy fuck it sends you spiralling over the edge, taking him by surprise. you're moaning and writhing, hips rolling backwards in an unsteady rhythm in an attempt to meet his faltering thrusts as you spasm around his hard cock.

his moans pick up, higher pitched, more a whimper than a moan, practically crying into your neck as he feels you clench around him over and over. he tries to speak, but more pathetic little noises roll off his tongue instead, sending you further into your orgasm.

"you- f. . . feel so fucking-. . . ah, ah, fuck!"

and you feel him - his dick twitching inside of you, cum coating your insides as he continues to thrust in a fading rhythm, desperate to fill you, to give you every last drop. you can hardly take it, the sensation bringing your pleasure to a whole new level as you squirm.

those pretty little noises he's making against your neck, they're heavenly. he always sounds so pretty when he cums, a symphony of whimpers and pleadings and gasps. it makes you want to make him cum over. . . and over. . . and over. . .

as his thrusts eventually begin to stall to a halt, he peppers sloppy wet kisses along your neck and shoulders, a silent thank you. his breath comes out in puffs against your skin, pressing his forehead to your back as he reluctantly pulls himself out of you with a hiss, eliciting a short whine from you.

josh sits up, trailing fingers through his now damp hair, his messy curls falling gently onto his forehead. he admires you below him, shoulders rising and falling with each breath you take. he traces his fingers along your spine, a soft, loving smile falling upon his lips.

you open your eyes, finding his as you turn over onto your back, placing your hands on his plush thighs on top of you. "well . . ." you begin to say.

"did i do good?" he perks up, smiling as he leans down, inches from your lips. his eyes sparkle, seeking praise as his eyes dance across your features.

you can't help but let a soft chuckle escape you, "so good, better than good."

he mirrors your chuckle, inching forward to capture your lips in a deep kiss as he giggles. you wrap your arms around him, relishing the way he desperately steals the kiss from you after you cum, every time you have sex.

"so. . ." he mumbles in between kisses, a smirk evident in his voice, "the. . . best?"

if your eyes were open, he'd see you roll them, "yes," you smirk, "the best."

josh basks in silent victory and you can feel the way his smirk widens through the kiss.

pulling back, you speak up, "but if you ever make me say 'please' to cum again, i'll kill you," you smirk, a joking tone.

his eyes lock with yours, a cheeky grin on his lips. "as if you didn't love it. . ."

"fuck you," you grin back.

josh can't help but laugh, raising an eyebrow, ". . . again?"

you pause, "this time, i'm on top."

his eyes widen, practically twinkling. he nods so hard and so fast that you worry he might hurt his neck. "yes." josh replies quickly, "please."

fuck, how was he so fucking cute? even better too, that he looks even cuter when you fuck his brains out while on top.

"roll over then." you command.

he salutes you and rolls over onto his back obediently, "aye-aye captain."

what a fucking dork. you love him so much.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

‧₊˚ dedicated tags: @helen-on-earth @fatinhadesiners06 @boonam @sun-spider13 @laurrrelise @sammygirlism @sleepyhutcherson‧₊˚ ily all sm!! thank you!

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

[zombvic]

TINDER IRL PART one (harry lewis x reader)

summary : in which y/n gets invited to the sidemen tinder irl (usa edition) and meets a certain brit and their instant friendship slowly progresses into something bigger

face claim : no one right now (kendall jenner later)

notes : reader is like a 2019 ICON like disstracks against the paul brothers, ricegum etc.. now STILL doing youtube but on a much more lowkey basis. also im sorry but i had to add that the reader is an f1 fan IM SORRY (im locked in as an f1 girlie) 😵 yall im not american or even close to a native english speaker (#slavicstruggles) but i tried making the readeramerican cause i tried to do the american la gf x british bloke bf xx god bless 'merica RAAAAAH. also i used lines from like all the videos and made my own cause the lines from this video were insane.. last also, don't be a ghost reader 🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️

pairings : harry lewis x reader , sidemen x platonic!reader , all the other youtuber in the videos x platonic!reader

warnings : drugs (ketamine joke)

You got invited to the SIDEMEN Tinder In Real Life youtube video. You are acutely aware to what the Sidemen are and you've seen their videos before. Now to be fair, the genres between your channel and their channels were pretty different. The Sidemen were known for football challenges, those 100$ vs 100,000$ challenges and other things with a similar vibe. You on the other hand, you did vlogs, lifestyle hack and tips, in your time you've achieved some disstracks and occasionally broke down some formula 1 grand prix weekend.

The moment you saw the instagram dm from the Sidemen official account you weren't sure how to react. Should you be excited? scared? worried? yeah.. all. It was the Sidemen, Logan Paul, Mike and George (idk who Mike and George but who cares).

Eventually you accepted the offer and waited till the day you had to be "picked up" by kinda random men for 5 minutes straight. The day came, you got dressed for the video shoot, they made you wait with the other girls until they called your name and then you walked in.

"Hi, I'm (your name). I'm 24 and i'm from Newark, New Jersey" (go devs go) You've practiced that line like 50 times before you left, not because you wanted to come out of this video with a new man but because you didn't want to embarrass yourself lmao.

"Hi, I'm Vikk. I'm 26 and are you from Tennessee, because you're the only ten i see"

"Would've been funny if i hadn't just said im from New Jersey dude, no sorry"

"Hello, I'm Logan-"

"No. Complicated history" you said as you swiped left.

"One chance please"

"Alright, BUT u gotta watch it tho"

"Okay. SO. If i were a pizza delivery guy, i'd be giving YOU the tip"

"Ew no sorry lmfao.. that was weak as fuck"

"Alright wow, Hello, I'm Tobi. I'm 31 and they say that kissing is a language of love, so would you mind starting a conversation with me?"

"Sure go on.. yes. I love that"

Hello, My name is Ethan and let only latex stand between our love.

"Yeah thats funny.. alright, go on"

"Yo, I'm KSI. I'm 30 and you know how they say skin is the largest organ on the human body? Well.. Not in my case."

"Lmao, yes go on"

“Hello, I'm Mike. I'm 37 and girl, you don't need no vibrator when you got this Pickled Dick.”

"Jesus Christ. No, get out"

"Hi, My name is Simon and.. Simon says you want to swipe right"

"Lmao. I love that, Yes"

"Sup, I'm George and I’m peanut butter. You’re jelly. Let’s have sex"

"Jeeesus, that’s crazy bro... no"

"Hello, My name is Josh and I find your lack of nudity disturbing"

"No, I'm so sorry" (guys i love freya sm i couldnt do this)

"Uhm, Hello. I'm Harry. I'm 26 years old and what do ketamine and your underpants have in common?"

"I don't know" you said looking at the blonde-ish man confused.

"I'd like to sniff them both."

The whole room fell into a laughter, you included. "Yes"

"BUT I GET A NO?" Logan exclaims. "What a scam"

WHY DID YOU SAY NO?

(NO : Logan, Josh, Mike, Vikk and George)

"For Logan i think we left this in 2019 and rightfully so. For Josh i dont really know tbh, i just thought his line couldve been better. Mike, i think you know why i said no. Vikk.. Im gonna be honest i dont even remember what youve said but im sure i had my reasons and George, you couldve been waaaaaay smoother mate.. tough luck"

YALL. this is part one because i cant be arsed and put it all right here right now 😁😁😁

[buckevantommy]

Everyone's always telling Buck what he should do. Okay, sometimes he did ask for their advice, but every piece of advice he's followed through on lately has ended badly and everything they tell him to do he doesn't actually want to do.

He should want to do something if it's supposed to make him feel better, if it's supposed to be better for him, right?

Josh told him to bulldoze ahead and tell Tommy what he wanted. Tommy told him to re-enact his Buck 1.0 days and spend time with some indeterminate amount of people until he finds someone forever. Maddie and Chim told him to start dating again and also wait for the universe to bring him someone special; another someone. Hen and Eddie told him not to contact Tommy.

He doesn't want to do any of that! He wants to talk to Tommy, to see him, to get Tommy to talk to him instead of giving up on them and running away because he's scared. He wants to tell Tommy he loves him. He wants Tommy to know first and last aren't mutually exclusive. He wants to yell at Tommy, and kiss him, and hold him. He wants Tommy to apologise for breaking his heart and for being a dumbass. He wants Tommy to believe him when he says he won't do the same; well, he might be a dumbass sometimes - but he would never break Tommy’s heart. He wants to apologise for jumping ahead but also not have to apologise for wanting a life with Tommy or for being too much.

Since that first night Tommy kissed him, he's felt reborn. Not in some starry-eyed way that Tommy seems to think is fake and won't last, but in the way that he's shed the skin of past Buck upgrades and finally grown into his body, become comfortable in who he is instead of trying to fit a facade that other people would accept. Always too big, too much, not enough, never content to just sit in his self and be without his worries and insecurities moulding him into something else, something with a better chance of getting people to like him, love him, stay with him. 

He’s never felt more himself or more at ease in a relationship that meant something to him than he did with Tommy. Never felt more wholly seen - the good, the bad, and the too-much and not enough - by his partner and adored anyway, wanted anyway.

Halfway through making swiss meringue buttercream instead of breakfast, he realises he's thinking about Tommy. His coping skill, as Bobby called it, has stopped working.

There's butter and sugar in the creases of his hands and nailbeds even after he hurriedly wipes them with the dishcloth over his shoulder. He can see it as he scoops up his phone from the charger and thumbs over to his message thread with Tommy, leaving greasy crumby residue on the screen.

i saw you bubbling

After it happened, after the Chief distracted everyone enough for him to grab his phone and retreat somewhere he wouldn't be disturbed, he'd stared at the space where the unsent message had appeared for twenty minutes waiting for the type bubble to reappear. Waiting for Tommy to hit send on whatever he'd backtyped.

Buck's mind had spiralled with all the possibilities and while it spiralled and he stared and waited he never got around to actually calling or texting Tommy himself. And then the bell rang.

He has time, now. He has things he wants to say.

you were going to tell me something an maybe i wont like what it was but just knowing you almost reached out is kinda driving me crazy bc i have a fridge full of baked goods bc everytime i think about calling you i bake and now i havnt cooked a proper meal in my own place in over a week bc i dont have room in my damn fridge to store anything besides chocholate chip bananan bread and baked alaskas

He wants to say: and it's all your fault! but that's not the whole truth. Buck played his part in this, set the wheels in motion that drove Tommy away from him. But how the hell was he supposed to know that? And Tommy should've known by now he doesn't really do 'slow'.

i'm not sorry for being too much bc i shouldnt haveto apologize for being myself

Screw it. Can't get any worse, right? Tommy's getting all of him whether he likes it or not.

i dont see you as some queer life coach or someone to fill space until someon else comes along

thats not who i am

i thought you knew me better than that but whatevr ig

i wanted to live with you bc i want a life with you bc i love you

i love you

i shouldve said that first

Send after send, typing like a man possessed, he gets out everything that's been pent up inside him since the shock wore off a week ago.

His chest is heaving as the adrenaline rushes through his veins. And his eyes sting. He has to blink away tears as he reads over the last message.

He never told Tommy. Tommy doesn't know. Maybe Buck wasn't sure that night Josh asked him, but he knows it now.

i wanted you to be my last

He still does.

i wanna hate you for giving up on us

but i cant seem to hate you

This whole thing would hurt a lot less if he could just hate Tommy for what he did. It would hurt a lot less if they could find a way through this mess, together, and come out the other side stronger because they know each other better and know they want to fight for what they have.

Real love is worth fighting for. Red taught him that. Real love isn’t found, it’s made. Old gay Thomas taught him that.

Well, Buck found Tommy. Or, the universe did. And he’s going to fight, dammit, because he wants to build a future with Tommy. 

His vision has blurred with hot tears. Movement on his screen catches his attention from where his gaze had drifted over to the couch where Tommy had stayed to take care of him through his Billy Boils saga.

Tommy is bubbling him.

Buck’s heart lurches in his chest. His breath catches.

can we talk?

There’s a huff of something like manic laughter as he swipes at his snotty nose.

that’s what i typed

Hope blooms in his chest, sudden and bright and painful in the best way.  

can we?

I think I owe it to you to yell at me in person

There’s a long moment where Buck tries to return his breathing to normal but its bated as he watches three little dots appear, then disappear. 

Then reappear. 

Then disappear.

Then:

I don’t want to give up on us either

Buck’s tears are still making his vision watery, but now they’re tears of joy. He did what he wanted to do - he reached out. And Tommy heard him.

He should take his own advice more often.

[rowdyluv]

Champion of my Heart

Summary: requested || in which reader is a famous singer and takes a break from tour to go watch luke play in the “Hughes bowl” but gets mobbed by the media.

Warnings: use of y/n, ended up being more about reader than about luke and reader, unedited, grammatical errors, use of song added as readers “song” I do not own this song, I am not claiming to own this song

Word Count: 1.1k

Notes: requested via ask, sorry this turned out more about reader than about the relationship it just came out of me this was at 1:30am when I woke up randomly

As the pop star, y/n, stepped off the private jet that had brought her from her latest tour stop to Newark, New Jersey, she couldn't help but feel a an overwhelming sense of excitement and relief to be back in the same state as her favorite person. Y/n had been on tour for the last two months, performing to sold-out crowds night after night. Living out of a tour bus and sleeping everywhere but the once place that felt like home, and she was exhausted. She was living her dream out and she loves what she does, she’s just being run ragged.

But she had promised herself that she would take a break, even if it was just for one night, to do something she loved - watch her boyfriend, Luke, and his brother who ironically is also his brother, Jack, play hockey for the New Jersey Devils.

Y/n had met Luke one night at small show held at Rutgers University, when he and Jack had come out to see it at the college. The boys getting noticed by quite a few of the girls on campus and a few athletes, security invited them backstage to a different green room, but y/n being curious who else would be swarmed fans went to greet them . Which led to her and Luke hitting it off immediately, bonding over their shared love of music and hockey. And as their relationship blossomed, she became a regular at Devils games, cheering on Luke and Jack from the stands.

But tonight was special. Tonight, the Devils were playing the Vancouver Canucks, and y/n knew that Luke's oldest brother, Quinn, is the captain for the Canucks. Until tonight she hasn’t seen the three brothers play against each other before, and she couldn't wait to see the intensity and the competition that she’s heard all about.

As she made her way to her seat with in Prudential Center, y/n was practically mobbed by a few fans and numerous droves of paparazzi. She smiled and waved, taking selfies and signing autographs, but she was also careful to keep her focus on the game once puck drop happened. She was there to see her man and his brother’s play, and tonight she was just another Devils fan in the stands. She didn't want to distract Luke or Jack, and she desperately wanted to be a normal girlfriend there to give support.

The game was intense, with both teams fighting hard for every chance at the puck. Y/n on the edge of her seat, screaming and cheering along with the rest of the crowd. Often times she found herself clutching to the bottom of her Luke jersey, murmuring please over and over as he loaded up for a shot. Or the hitch in her breathing when he went down because of a hard hit into the boards.

When the final buzzer sounded and the Devils had emerged victorious, and y/n was over the moon. She wasn’t sure if it was because she had never been so anxious over a game, because they won, or because she gets to see Luke now.

As she waited for Luke to come out of the locker room, y/n was surrounded by reporters and camera crews.

If all the media is out here who is interviewing the teams? She asked herself.

They were all clamoring for her attention, asking her questions about her new album and her love life. She tried to brush them off, but they were truly relentless.

"Is your new album about Luke?" one reporter asked, shoving a microphone in her face.

"No comment," Y/n replied, smiling sweetly.

"But what about your ex-boyfriend, Josh?" another reporter chimed in. "Is the album about him then?" shoving a different microphone in her face.

Y/n rolled her eyes. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again - yes my music is about my experiences in life and my emotions that coincide with said experiences. That said it does mean it has to be about any one person."

But the reporters wouldn't let up. They kept asking questions, trying to get a rise out of her. That's when she spotted Luke, emerging from the locker room with a huge grin on his face. Y/n’s heart skipped a beat as she saw him, and she knew exactly what to do to nip this in the butt.

With zero hesitation, y/n pushed through the crowd of reporters and ran directly to Luke. She jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist, and planted a long, languid, passionate kiss on his lips. Probably the most PDA the two have ever displayed in their lives. The crowd around them erupted in cheers and applause, and the reporters were left stunned and silent.

Luke laughed and hugged her to him tightly, spinning her around in a circle while still having her wrapped around his waist. "I guess that answers all your questions," he said sarcastically, winking at the reporters.

Y/n grinned looking directly at her boyfriend, feeling happy and carefree for the first time in months. She knew that she had made a statement, and that the media would be talking about this kiss for weeks to come. But she didn't care. She was just happy to be with Luke, and to have been able to support him and his team.

As they made their way out of the arena, she leaned her head on Luke's shoulder. "Thanks for getting the win for me tonight," she joked, smiling up at him.

"Anytime baby," Luke replied, squeezing her hand. "And thanks for that kiss, if I had to wait any longer I might have died from lack of attention. Plus I think that shut them up pretty effectively."

Y/n giggled at her dramatic boy. "I'm always happy to help," she said, snuggling into his side. “When we get in the car, I have something to play for you. I think you’re really going to like it.” Luke gave her a questioning look as he opened her door, letting her get in first. She pulled out a demo album, and showed him the cover.

‘Champion of my Heart’

Luke held the demo in his hands and he studied it for a moment. “Is it about..” he paused looking up to meet her eyes. “Is it really about you and I?” Y/n nodded and smiled slightly. Luke moved around the front of the car quickly, anxious to enter the car. “Remember it’s not the final version, but i wanted you hear some of the songs first.” Luke made eye contact with her again. “First, as in first first?” He needed the clarification, like she needed his approval. “Yes, first outside of my recording crew. He leaned over the console and softly cupped her cheek. “I don’t tell you enough. I love you, you’re amazing, you’re beautiful, and I am the luckiest person in the wo— no entire universe to have you.” Luke placed the softest kiss on her lips as the first track begins to play.

‘If I Could Fly’

[alwaysonthemend]

Author’s Note: Hi guys! Can't believe it's been so long since I last posted. Hope you guys enjoy this one! As always, if you see any typos... no you didn't

Warnings: Fem!reader, drunk Jake (alcohol), unprotected p in v sex, cock warming, fingering, hand jobs, doing things we shouldn't in a public place, cussing, partying. 18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI

Word Count: 5k

-----------------

Late has already bled into early by the time you manage to spot Jake in the crowd again. His back is to you as he speaks excitedly to someone you’ve never seen before – though there’s a definite chance that Jake hasn’t either (he’s a chatty drunk no matter how well he knows the person). 

Tonight is a celebration of sorts. A celebration of what is to come and what they've already done. With tour on break for the holidays, the Kiszka-Wagner clan had been taking some much needed R&R after such a long and grueling schedule of shows before they have to leave again. The first few days had seen Jake lounging at home, perfectly content to spend his days entirely wrapped up with you. You had binge watched some shows that he’d missed while gone, ordered take out from all the places that he’d been craving, and over all spent almost every minute of the day within each other’s company. 

But Jake is a man who likes action – regardless of how much he enjoys spending time at home with you. After a few weeks of nothing, you can tell that he’s itching to be doing something again. First there had been simple dinner gatherings with your immediate friends and family, then jam sessions with the rest of his brothers that had lasted well into the night, and then finally he’d begged to go to this party tonight. Josh is hosting (no doubt he’s experiencing the very same restlessness that his twin is) and a party hosted by Josh is always a sure fire promise of a fun night. 

So you’d happily agreed and given Jake the go ahead to let loose tonight – party as hard as he wanted for however long he wanted and you would be there to drive him home. His eyes had lit up at your offer before he’d given you a sweet kiss and a murmured thank you before scampering upstairs to call Josh and let him know that you two would be coming. 

But as excited as Jake had been to go out tonight, he’d still periodically found his way back to you, begging you to come join him where the music is the loudest. You’d politely declined him each time, wanting to give him time to spend with his friends and brothers after giving so much of his time to you. You know that his offer is genuine. Jake wants you by his side at all times (he’s a clingy motherfucker even when he’s sober) but you had simply told him you would prefer him to go spend time with everyone else instead. He’d begrudgingly agreed and you’d since been spending your time watching him go from sober to tipsy and finally to actually drunk within the span of the last few hours. You liked watching him like this – smiling and carefree amongst the people that he loves (along with a number of people that you’re pretty sure Josh only invited because he likes a full house). 

But the crowd has dwindled as the early hours of morning approach. It’s nearing 3AM now and only some 15 people remain. You’d been parked in a far corner for the past hour or so but you’re pulled from your spot by Jake calling your name. He, along with Josh, Daniel, and Sam, have made their ways over to the couches and chairs in Josh’s living room and consequently collapsed into them. The core group you like to call them, finding each other to close the night out amongst themselves. There are others still left elsewhere – some faces vaguely familiar and some completely foreign to you, but they’re all far too wrapped up in their own conversations and drunken storytelling to notice that the host and family has moved somewhere else. 

Josh sits in one of the loveseats, one arm lazily thrown around the shoulders of his partner – also suitably drunk, who’s nuzzled into his side. Sam sits in another chair, cheeks flushed and hair a complete mess as he pours himself another drink. You know already that he’d say he’s earned it since he’s spent the night “slaving away” as the party DJ. That leaves Daniel and Jake left to find their seats, Daniel finding his place on one end of the sofa and Jake on the other. You make your way to them – each of the boys exclaiming excitedly at your approach. 

“Y/n!” Josh booms, the sheer loudness of him drowning out the others and startling his poor partner, “Gracing is with her presence at last!” 

You giggle as you make your way to the sofa, eyeing the spot between Jake and Daniel. 

“Now that you all seem to have settled down a bit I thought I would join you.” 

As you make to sit down, Jake’s hands find your hips and guide you instead to sit down on his lap. He sighs contentedly as you surrender to him without a fight, easing down on the tops of his thighs and settling your back into his chest. 

“Hi.” You tell him, twisting as much as you can in his lap to turn and see his face. His cheeks are flushed and a yummy sheen of sweat adorns his neck and temples. Eyes dark and lips looking particularly plump, you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

“Hi there.” He answers back. “Missed you.” 

He smells like alcohol and weed – a combination that seems to have left him feeling particularly touchy as his hands settle themselves possessively on your waist. He’s warm against you, the feeling of his chest rising and falling against your back lulling you into a relaxed state as he falls effortlessly back into the conversation with the rest of the boys. His words rumble in his chest and you take the opportunity to lean your head back into the space between his neck and shoulder. The smell and heat of him sets off some carnal, feral part of your brain and you find heat of your own pooling between your thighs. You ignore the feeling, opting instead to try and focus your mind on the conversation at hand. 

“-and so I told him that he would either have to sleep there or find someone else to take him home because I wasn’t doing it.” Sam’s voice wafts through the air. You’ve got no idea what he’s talking about but you have a sneaking suspicion that he probably isn’t all that sure of what he’s saying either. 

“You’ve always been a little punk ass.” Josh interjects, giggling a little bit at his own words. “Since you came out of the womb.” 

Sam meets him with a scowl. 

“I just learned from the best, actually.” He snarks back, though there’s no real heat behind his words. 

“Don’t talk about Danny like that.” Jake’s rumbling voice interrupts and though you can’t see him, you can hear the grin as he speaks. “He’s a wonderful influence, Samuel.”

Danny laughs heartily, tossing his head back as he does so. Josh smiles like he’s just won a prize and Sam only meets Jake with an eyeroll. 

“I was talking about you two.” He says, pointing between the twins. 

They continue on with their bickering and you do your best to keep up with them. The few remaining guests filter their way out one by one, giving thanks to Josh on their way out. The boy’s conversations weave in and out, jumping from topic to topic as they often do. It's hard to keep up, especially as your focus strays from the conversation to the uncomfortable kink in your back from sitting in this position against Jake’s chest. You shift a little bit, settling down further in his lap to ease the feeling. As you shift, a hiss escapes him and his hands tighten on your hips. 

“Angel.” He whispers, tilting his head down to press his lips closer to your ear. “Careful.” 

You can’t help the way your eyes widen and your core pulses at his tone. His words are rough and ever so slightly slurred. His fingertips dig into the meat of your thighs in a way that makes you dizzy with a sudden want for him to take you right here in front of everyone. 

“Something wrong?” You answer him back, turning your head and capturing his lips with yours. Alcohol and weed and Jake hit your tastebuds and you shift once again in his lap. 

“Something’s hard.” He murmurs against your lips. 

And he is. 

You can feel him now, hot and solid against your ass. It sends your blood boiling and your cunt clenching around nothing. 

You exhale shakily, willing your voice to remain passive and unbothered. 

“Poor baby.” You say, turning back away from him and earning yourself a growl from deep in his chest. 

“Jake stick you with being DD for the night, Y/n?” Daniel asks, causing everyone’s eyes to shift towards you and Jake. You can feel him tense behind you. He’s still rock hard against you and everyone’s eyes on him only serve to make him more excited as he tries to play it cool. 

“I offered.” You answer Danny, dropping your hand onto Jake’s thigh. “Plus, he’s a handful to deal with even when I’m sober.” You squeeze his thigh. “So I figured I’d lay off the alcohol tonight.”

“Oh he’s something alright.” Josh supplies, grinning ear to ear at his brother. You worry suddenly that he knows somehow. Freaky twin thing and all that, especially given the Cheshire smile he shoots your way. But he looks away and back to the others quickly and you dismiss the idea. Freaking twins.

Conversation divulges again and the attention falls from you and Jake. But he’s worked up now and there’s no way he’s letting you off the hook that easily. Sober Jake is a horndog… drunk Jake is damn near insatiable. 

“Play nice.” Jake warns you, his voice just barely loud enough that you can hear it. “Don’t wanna have to punish you.” 

That finally makes your breath stutter and halt in your chest. Jake can feel you still against him and he chuckles. 

So the game begins. 

Wordlessly, you shift your weight and slide your ass across his crotch. Jake bites his lip and his eyes blaze as he watches you settle your rear onto the sofa next to him with an innocent smile. With your legs draped across his hips (still keeping his hard on from being seen by everyone in the room) you’re free now to settle into his side. You’re playing a dangerous game messing with him like this but the new position allows for you to press your calf into the growing bulge beneath his dark jeans and for your hands to settle on his midsection. Deceivingly innocent to others but filled with possibilities to tease him. Jake knows this though, and those dark eyes of his are pinned to you, lust-blown and dangerous as his breathing picks up. 

You look away and do your best to turn your attention back to the group. Jake does the same, but the feeling of his hard dick against your calf is proof enough that he’s still more than distracted. 

As the conversation carries on, you do your best to interject every now and then to at least pretend to be interested. But you’re more interested in taking Jake home and devouring him. But you suppose the waiting will only make the reward sweeter in the end. Jake, for his part, seems to be feeling the very same. His eyes dart to your face periodically, heavy lidded and carrying the weight of how much he wants you right now. But even with the lust coursing through the both of you, he still looks at you whenever he makes a joke (making sure he’s succeeded in making you laugh) and his fingertips absentmindedly drum songs and beats onto your shin. As worked up as he is, his sweetness still seems to outweigh the alcohol in his system. It just makes you want him more. 

Bored with waiting and ready for him to say it’s time to go, you delicately trace your fingers across his midsection. You press your fingertips into the soft flesh of his sides as you keep your eyes trained anywhere but him. Jake cocks his head to look at you, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip as you shift your leg and rub your calf across him. Half-hard still, his body tenses. His hand finds yours on his belly and he stills it, grip tightening in warning. 

Not satisfied with his reaction, you press your leg down again and this time his spine goes ramrod straight as his hips buck up on their own to meet the feeling. 

That’s one point for you. 

“Why are you trying to start shit?” He murmurs, taking a sip from the glass that he’d just refilled. 

“Because I can.” 

“Because you’re desperate.” The last word comes out as an almost growl. 

You shake your head. 

“I’m not anything.” 

“You think I can’t tell?” He asks you, his head tilted down and gaze trained solely on you. You scan the rest of the group, afraid that they’ll hear whatever filth is about to spill from between his plump lips. Thankfully, they’re all far too engaged with their own conversation to notice what’s going on between you and Jake. “Your cheeks are flushed all pink like they get when you’re horny.” He starts, fingers trailing up from your calf to your thigh. “And you're breathing fast. Like you do when you’re wet.” His fingers go higher still and your thighs clench despite yourself. 

He wins the point this time and you can’t help the little sigh that escapes you. 

“Maybe I’m just tired of waiting.” It’s all you can think to say – the lust fogging your brain and making it impossible for you to come up with a witty retort. You want him. Now. 

“You’re going to have to wait a while longer.” 

“Why?” The question is reminiscent of a young child. Whiny and full of demanding petulance at his refusal to take you home and fuck you this instant. 

“Because someone,” he shifts his hips slightly, “made me rock fucking hard. And I can’t get up like this right now. Not with all them” his eyes dart to the group, “sitting right there.” 

You huff a breath. 

“Please.” 

He hums and places his glass on the table next to you. His own control is cracking under the weight of your heavy gaze (and calf that's teasing his dick relentlessly) and you realize with glee that you've gotten what you wanted. 

“Gentlemen,” he starts, clapping his hands down on your legs and interrupting one of Josh’s long-winded stories. “I think we’re going to call it a night. The missus is getting tired.” He grins at you and you flush even more. 

“Leaving without helping clean up?” Josh demands, extracting himself from his partner’s grip and rising to his feet.

“Oh, always.” Jake answers him, words still slightly slurred. “But you’ve got these fine young gentlemen here to help you.” He gestures to Sam and Danny who both groan but stand up with Josh anyway. 

As they begin busying themselves with picking up glasses and paper plates, you raise your legs from Jake’s lap and stand. He follows you – though he teeters dangerously once he’s on his feet. 

“Easy.” You warn, wrapping an arm around his waist and helping him balance. 

“I’m fine.” He laughs, but his steps remind you of a baby deer trying to walk. 

As the two of you make your way outside, you both hiss as the cold of the night hits you. You press yourself further into Jake’s side. As you reach the car – parked all the way by the road, you make to open the passenger door for Jake but he pulls you into a kiss first. 

His tongue plunges into your mouth and he groans as you grant him easy access. Despite the cold, your body thrums with the heat of your arousal. Jake’s hands are sloppy as they caress every inch of you he can get – your sides, your tits, your ass, everything. As you reach up to tangle your hands in his hair he leans his full body weight against you, pressing you into the side of the car and caging you there. You can't quite tell if it's just so he can keep you where he wants you or because he can't stand upright any longer. Either way, wetness floods your panties at the feeling of his body pressing into you. Solid is the only word you can think of to describe him. 

“Jake.” You moan as his lips trail down to your neck, the heat of his mouth a delicious juxtaposition to the frigid wind. He’s relentless, drunkenly nipping and biting at your skin in all the ways he knows you like. “Jake, quit.” You tell him, even though it’s the last thing you want him to do. 

“Why?” The question is muffled by your skin, his lips never leaving your throat. 

“Get in the car. It’s cold as fuck.” 

He pouts but he straightens up and removes himself from you and you ignore the ache in your belly at the loss of contact. Jake’s fingers wrap themselves around the handle of the door but not of the passenger seat. Instead, he opens the door to the back and raises an eyebrow at you. 

“Jake.” 

“Y/n.” His tone matches yours mockingly, his eyes glittering. 

“It’s freezing.” 

“So let’s warm up then.” 

You try to fight it. You know you should. You’re out here where any one of the neighbors could look outside to see what’s happening if they look hard enough. If Josh looks outside and sees your car still here there’s no doubt that he’ll know what’s happening. Sam and Daniel are spending the night and are probably drunk enough that they’re already passed out but who knows if one of them might happen to look out a window. 

But the ache between your legs has grown nearly unbearable and you don’t want to wait any more than Jake does. And as you watch him clumsily climb into the back seat and lean himself back against the opposite door you know that any shred of resistance you had is gone. 

“You’re drunk.” You scold, unwilling to admit defeat even as you climb into the car with him and shut the door behind you. It’s freezing in the car and your teeth chatter slightly as you settle in. 

“Quit fussing.” He tells you, spreading his legs and pulling you in to settle between his thighs. “Don’t wanna have to wait.”

At that – at the pleading, whiny way he says the words, you cave and crash your lips back to his. His hands find your sides again, squeezing possessively. Your own hands find his shoulders as you attack his mouth with yours. The kiss has no real finesse, all teeth and tongue, but it’s perfect. Jake is moaning beneath you with every pass of your tongue and you realize with no small amount of excitement that the alcohol in his system has taken away any ability he had to hold all those noises in. He’s always vocal. But this? This is like Heaven to your ears. 

His hand drops to the waistband of your pants and his fingers dance along the skin there before slipping beneath. His fingers are cold as they graze over your clit through the fabric of your panties. His middle finger presses in, applying just the right amount of pressure as he begins to rub in little circles. You moan loudly into the kiss and his answering groan tells you all that you need to know about how into this he is. 

“You’re soaked.” 

You nod, head falling back and mouth dropping open as he pushes your panties aside and circles your swollen clit even faster. 

“Take these off.” 

You obey, sitting backwards and toeing your shoes off before sliding your pants off your legs. It’s cramped and clunky in the confined area of the car but Jake watches you like it’s still the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. Your shirt is next, discarded carelessly into the floorboard as you paw at his own shirt, desperate to see more of him. Jake lifts his arms and pulls his short off, the fabric joining your clothes as well. 

No matter how many times you see him like this, you still can’t help but be amazed. He’s glorious before you, all milky skin and soft curves that make you want to bite him. His arms flex as he pushes his jeans down, the strength of his biceps and forearms the perfect balance to the rest of him. Without pausing long enough to think about it, you drop low and sink your teeth into the supple flesh of his side. 

He cries out in answer, arching his back and head falling back with a thud against the window. 

“Y/n. Fuck.” He whines and you take his moment of surprise to palm him through his boxers. He hadn’t been lying earlier when he said he was hard as a rock. Even through the fabric you can feel the heavy heat of him. 

You trail your mouth down to the waistband, licking along the skin there before grabbing it with your teeth and pulling them down, allowing his cock to spring free. You sink lower still, intent on enveloping him in the warmth of your mouth but he stops you with a hand in your hair. 

“Wait.” He sighs out breathlessly, causing your eyes to flick to his questioningly. “Not gonna last if you do that.” He grins sheepishly and you laugh. 

“Who’s desperate now?’’ You ask him, echoing back to his taunt from earlier. 

“It’s your fault.” 

With that, he sits up and surges forward, slamming his lips to yours again and pushing you backwards. He settles on top of you, his cock resting against your ass cheek. The movement had taken much effort, his drunken limbs just a little too clumsy for finesse and grace and you both laugh a little as you settle. Finally, he pulls your panties all the way down and you whine as the cool air hits your wet center. 

“Jesus.” He murmurs, those dark eyes of his devouring the sight of you beneath him. “Been waiting for this all night.” 

He sits upwards, gripping his cock in his fist as you spread your legs for him. The car is small, your back shoved into the corner and your head cocked at an odd angle. But none of it matters as he finally slides himself into you. You cry out, hands reaching out to grip his shoulders. His groan is deep and rough as he bottoms out and pauses, allowing you a moment to adjust to the familiar stretch of him. 

“Move.” You beg him, hooking your legs around his hips and using your heels to dig into his ass and pull him closer. 

He plants both hands on either side of you, fingers digging into the leather of the seats as he starts to rock his hips. His brows tip upwards and his eyes fall closed as you clench around him helplessly. 

“So fucking tight.” He slurs, hips snapping into yours deliciously. The air between the two of you is thick – humid and warm enough that the windows have begun to fog up completely. 

“Harder.” You whine and his body trembles and shakes as he tries to follow your command. 

His mouth drops open and a loud moan escapes him as he picks up his pace slightly. His arms tremble where they fight to keep himself up in this position and you giggle softly at him. 

“Switch with me before you fall over.” You urge him before tossing your head back with a moan as his cock brushes against that special spot inside of you. Even drunk off his ass he can still find it with ease. 

“Fine.” He huffs, pulling out of you and settling back into his earlier position with his back against the door. “Sorry.” He mumbles, giving you a drunken little grin. 

“S’okay.” You tell him, climbing over his thighs to straddle him. “Can watch you better this way anyway.” 

He preens a little at that, cheeks flushing a dark red as you grip is cock in your hand and guide the head to your entrance. You sink down and whine as this position allows him to slip even deeper into you than it had before.

You roll your hips and moans punch out of both of you. He always feels so fucking good – but having to wait so long for it tonight has only made it even more rewarding now. His hands grip your ass, kneading into the flesh and guiding your pace. His eyes are half lidden as he watches you and sweat begins to bead at his hairline. The look he’s giving you – hair a mess and mouth dropped open, is a familiar one. It’s one you’ve seen on his face countless times; both as he’s fucked you and as he plays his guitar on stage. It’s enough to have the coil in your belly begin to tighten already. 

“So fuck’n beautiful.” He moans lowly, his eyes pinned to where your tits bounce with each roll of your hips. 

You whine and lean downwards, kissing him roughly as his hips begin to thrust upwards to meet yours. You can tell that he’s losing it beneath you – his focus torn between trying to kiss you and trying to match the rhythm you’ve set. He’s pussy drunk and actually drunk and the thin bit of control he has left is starting to break. 

He uses his grip on your ass to guide you upwards, pressing your breasts into his face. His lips lock around one hard nipple as one hand comes up to palm the other one. He moans louder still, the sound muffled against your tit. The feel of him… he’s everywhere in this cramped car and all of your senses have been completely overtaken with just Jake. 

“Please.” He whines, detaching his mouth from your nipple with a wet pop. “Wanna feel you cum on my cock.” 

His teeth dig into his bottom lip, his face contorting in pleasured agony as he holds himself back, waiting for you to finish first. You toss your head back and cry out, his cock hitting your sweet spot as you ride him into oblivion. The noises falling from him are barely human – rough and broken in a way that lets you know that he's completely overtaken with the pleasure of it all. Your orgasm finally hits you, seeming to start at your toes and work its way all the way through you. Your body shakes as you ride it out, walls fluttering and clenching around his cock. Your moans are only interrupted by cries of his name as he fucks you through it before finally your brain manages to come back to reality to take in the sight below you. 

Jake – drunk and fucked out with his eyes pleading up at you. 

“Gonna fucking cum, Y/n.” He thrusts up once, twice, three more times before he’s losing it. His head thrashes and curses fall from his lips like prayers. It goes on forever, his body tensed up and legs shaking on either side of you as he spills his release into you.

Finally, his body relaxes and stills. And his beautiful eyes blink open to look at you. A dopey and satiated smile spreads across his lips. You can feel his cock where it’s still inside you softening, but neither of you really want to move yet. 

“You’re so pretty.” He says with an alcohol-drenched smile. 

“And you’re still very drunk.” You giggle, kissing him softly. 

“I don’t have to be drunk to be able to see that you’re pretty.” He answers with a slight pout. Even inebriated he’s not going to let you run from a compliment. His ability to still recognize those little insecurities that you still have, no matter how much he’s had to drink, makes you smile softly down at him. 

“You’re pretty too.” 

He flushes and opens his mouth to retort but it’s cut off with a hiss as you pull off him. You reach down to grab your phone where it’s been discarded on the floorboard with yours and his clothes and the screen lights up enough to make you squint your eyes.

Two notifications await you. 

Josh 4:27AM

you guys okay? 

Josh 4:34AM

in my driveway?? :( 

You can’t help but laugh at the message before clicking your phone off. The windows have completely fogged up now so there's no denying your guilt to Josh.

As you turn back to face Jake, his eyes have closed and he looks almost asleep. 

“Hey.” You smack his chest and he startles, making you laugh even harder. “Get dressed so we can go home.” 

He groans and sits up, eyes looking glassy but still wearing a satisfied smirk.

“Round two once we get home?”

“If you can stay awake that long.”

“Challenge accepted.” 

--------

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‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend.  You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy? 

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, slight mention of dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Chapter 2 - Bruises | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 10.6k

Trent slumped down next to Noah, running a hand over his hair, his thoughts all over the place. It had been hard enough leaving you upstairs, seeing you so vulnerable, so close. Noah nudged him, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Mate, seriously—what is the deal with you two?” Noah asked, raising an eyebrow. “She’s putty in your hands, and you’re practically breathing down her neck. Thought you’d snap eventually but you just keep dragging it out.” Trent let out a frustrated sigh, leaning back against the couch. 

“I don’t even know, mate. I can’t keep this up. Every time I’m around her lately, it feels impossible to just… be her friend.” He shook his head. “But Jack would kill me, you know that.” Noah burst into laughter, shaking his head. 

“Trenty, it’s been years of this. You’re acting like this tension is new! This is, hands down, the longest and most intense case of foreplay I’ve ever seen. Even Jack’s gotta know by now.” Noah smirked. Trent rubbed the back of his neck, a guilty grin breaking through. 

“Yeah, but it’s different now. She’s… she’s not just Jack’s sister anymore. It’s like she’s looking at me the same way I look at her.”  He groaned and then he let out a shaky breath, feeling exposed for the first time. “And tonight—I feel like she’s slipping, no? Just hard to leave her room after all that. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.” Noah leaned in, eyes glinting with amusement. “Mateeee.” Trent groaned once more for good measure. 

“Bro, you gotta sort this. You can’t go on like this forever.” He clapped Trent on the shoulder. Trent chuckled, a little embarrassed but unable to deny how much he wanted you. 

“I know. But I’m just trying to play it smart, you know? I don’t want to hurt her but Jack’s my boy.” Noah raised an eyebrow, laughing harder. 

“Play it smart? Just try not to trip over yourself sneaking back upstairs.” He teased. With one last laugh, Trent let himself sink into his thoughts of you, wondering how much longer he could hold himself back.

Another night of drinking to forget came. You knew it wasn’t the healthiest method, but it was maybe the most fun. The club was packed, pulsing with the beat of the music and the energy of people letting loose on a Saturday night. You had dragged Layla along with you to have a fun night out, a chance to unwind and forget about all the stress from the past week. You were in good spirits, laughing and dancing with Layla, letting the music take over. But everything shifted when you spotted him—your sort of ex, a footballer for Manchester United, Josh. If playing for that club wasn’t enough of a reason for you to hate him, he also was just an awful person.  He was standing by the bar, surrounded by his friends, looking as arrogant as ever. You tried to ignore him, but it was clear he had seen you too. A smirk tugged at his lips as he pushed through the crowd, heading straight for you.

“YN!” he called out over the music, a mocking tone in his voice. “Long time no see.” You forced a polite smile, not wanting to cause a scene but you knew this was being done to be rude.

 “Hey,” you replied shortly, hoping he’d get the hint and move on. But he didn’t.

“What’s the matter? Not happy to see me?” he jeered, leaning in closer than necessary. You could smell the alcohol on his breath, could see the malice in his eyes.

“I’m just here to have a good time with Layla,” you said, trying to keep your tone even. “I’d rather not—” But he cut you off, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that. You were always such a good girl, Y/N. Too good for the likes of me, right? Or maybe you’re just playing hard to get?” He sang in an obnoxious tone. You’d ‘split’ because you didn’t like each other enough. It was sex and that was about it. Josh particularly didn’t like that no matter what, you’d never look at him the way you looked at Trent and so he blamed the split on you. Despite him ending it, it was your wrong doing apparently.  

“She doesn’t want to talk to you, yeah? Fuck off.” Layla stepped in, sensing the tension. He sneered at Layla before turning his attention back to you. 

“What’s the matter, YN? Still pining after Alexander-Arnold? Aye just get it through that pretty little head, he’s never going to want you.” The words stung, sharper than you expected. You rolled your eyes and he didn’t take kindly to that. Even though you didn’t care for him anymore, his cruelness cut deep. Tears welled up in your eyes despite yourself.  Josh had never been the kind to hold back, not even in public. You had seen glimpses of his temper before, but tonight, it felt different—meaner, more deliberate. His words were mocking as his fingers gripped your arm with a force that made your skin sting, and as he leaned in closer, his words grew more venomous.  "What, are you going to cry now?" he spat, tightening his hold on you. His grip was firm, biting into your flesh with enough pressure to bruise. You winced, trying to twist free, but he only tightened his grip, his nails digging into your skin. He was holding you close to him, he was angry in a possessive way. You could feel the bruise forming under his touch, a dark mark that would remind you of this night long after it was over. You hated how he could make you feel so small, how he could strip away every ounce of confidence with just a few words and a harsh grip.

“Please just stop,” you snapped, your voice breaking. You tried to yank your arm away again, but he only pulled you closer, his lips curling into a cruel smile. He pulled you away from everyone so it was just the two of you. You felt a wave of shame, not just for the scene he was causing but for yourself—for letting him do this to you, for putting up with it, for not having the strength to push him away once and for all. Layla didn’t know what to do. So often you had said it was fine with him but right now it felt anything but.  You didn’t know why you even put up with him, why you had let him into your life at all. He had always been like this—aggressive, dominating, possessive,always needing to control every situation, even when you were out in public. It was as if he thrived on belittling you, on reminding you of every perceived flaw, every mistake you’d made.  He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. 

“You’ll be nothing without me, know that?” he hissed, his grip tightening painfully. You flinched, the pain radiating up your arm. “You’ll always be nothing.” The tears blurred your vision, and you hated yourself for letting him see you cry. You hated how he still had this power over you, how he could reduce you to this—a sobbing, broken mess in the middle of a crowded club. You hated how he could strip you of your dignity with just a few cruel words and a tight grip on your arm. Somewhere in the haze of your thoughts, you found the strength to pull away. You jerked your arm back with a sudden burst of energy, managing to break free from his grasp. You stumbled back, cradling your bruised arm against your chest, the sting of the fresh bruise radiating through your skin. You looked up at him, your vision blurry with tears, your chest heaving with a mix of anger, hurt, and frustration.

“I’m done. We’re done” you choked out, the words barely more than a whisper. “I get it. Just let it go, okay?” You whimpered. He just laughed, a dark, hollow sound that sent a chill down your spine. 

“You’ll be back, babe” he called after you as you tried to leave, his voice dripping with arrogance. “You always come back.”  You hated that you had gone back to him before, that you had let yourself get tangled up in his web of anger and possessiveness. The sex had been good—at least, that's what you told yourself. But he had cheated on you more times than you could count, though you were never really sure if it counted as cheating. Your relationship had always been undefined, a messy entanglement of emotions and misunderstandings. He was hypocritical, a storm ready to explode any time he saw you so much as smile at another man. And yet, there you were, always caught in the crossfire of his jealousy and rage. It didn’t matter what he did, his whole goal was to just have complete control over you and Trent threw a wrench in that. He especially hated Trent. It wasn't just because they played for rival clubs, though that was part of it. It was deeper than football. He saw the way your eyes lingered on Trent, the way your face softened when you spoke his name. He knew there was something there, a connection that went beyond friendly banter or casual attraction. Trent was everything he was not—calm, kind, successful in a way that made others admire rather than fear him. And you—God, he could see it—your feelings for Trent were written all over your face, in the way you laughed at his jokes, in the way you always seemed to find yourself at his side. He resented Trent for being everything he wasn’t and for being the object of your affections. You ootd to keep Josh’s behavior hidden from your brother, somehow managing to mask how fucked up it all was. Jack didn't know how deep your ex’s temper ran or how controlling he could be. But if he knew.. If Jack knew or even his friends knew but probably especially Trent knew… all hell would break loose.  So you’d learned how to swallow back the stories, pretending that everything was fine. 

“Can you just leave me alone,” you managed to say, your voice breaking. 

“You’re pathetic, you know that?” He leaned in, his voice a harsh whisper. “Does your brother know you slut yourself out for his best friend? What’s your dad think of that... Being a whore for the boys your brother trusts most… and your mum.. Oh well.. You wouldn’t know what she thinks of her slutty little daughter.” That was the last straw. You hated that you even trusted him enough that he had that bit of information about your life. You felt the tears spill over, and you turned and bolted, pushing your way through the crowd. You needed to get away, to breathe, to clear your head. Your heart was pounding, and your vision blurred with tears. You stumbled trying to get to the back hallway of the club, your breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Layla had seen enough. 

“Fuck you!” Layla screamed rushing over but when she turned to try to follow after you, you were lost in the crowds. Unbeknownst to you, Trent had been at the club too, celebrating with a few of his teammates. He had seen you running, and had noticed the distress on your face. Without a second thought, he followed you, his concern outweighing any questions about why you were there or what had happened. The flashing lights of the club blurred around you, a kaleidoscope of colors that seemed to spin faster with each passing second. The pounding bass reverberated through your chest, matching the erratic beat of your heart. You felt dizzy, your thoughts swirling like the flickering neon signs above. The laughter and shouts of the crowd melted into a distant, muddled hum as your vision began to swim. Tears streaked your cheeks, hot and unchecked, as you stumbled through the throngs of people. The room felt like it was closing in on you, walls shrinking as the faces around you became distorted, like a nightmare you couldn’t escape. Your breath came in shallow, uneven gasps, each one catching in your throat as you fought the rising tide of panic.

You could barely think straight, your mind a haze of confusion and pain. Everything felt wrong—your body, the people around you, the pounding music that seemed to pulse through your veins. You wanted to escape, to find a place where you could breathe again, but everywhere you turned, there were people, faces, eyes. It was too much, all of it pressing down on you, squeezing your chest until you thought you might break. Your legs felt heavy, your steps unsteady as if the ground were shifting beneath your feet. You pushed through the crowd, desperate for air, for space, for anything but this suffocating chaos. Your tears blurred your vision, and you wiped at her eyes, her hand trembling. Then, through the haze, you felt it—strong arms wrapping around you, pulling you close. At first, you panicked, thinking it was someone else, another stranger trying to touch you, but then you caught a familiar scent, a mix of cologne and something uniquely comforting.

Trent.

Your body sagged with relief, your knees nearly buckling beneath you as you collapsed against his chest. His arms were solid and warm, encircling you like a protective barrier against the chaos of the club. You felt his hand on the back of your head, gently cradling you as he whispered soothing words you could barely hear over the music. Then for the first time, Trent saw a bruise forming on your arm. His face was a mask of concern, his eyes darkening with anger as he took in the sight of you, your arm marked with the telltale signs of aggression. 

"Y/N," he whispered, stepping back before reaching out to gently lift your arm, his touch featherlight but steady. He turned it over, revealing the bruises that had already started to bloom in shades of purple and blue. His jaw clenched, and his grip tightened just enough for you to feel his rage simmering beneath the surface. "Who did this to you?" You tried to pull away, tried to hide the evidence of your shame and pain, but Trent wouldn't let go. It was so obvious it came from someone grubbing you too tight, being too rough in a way no one wanted. His hand held yours firmly, his thumb brushing against your skin as if he could erase the marks with a touch. 

"Please," you muttered, your voice breaking, "stop." you weakly begged.

"Y/N…" he insisted, his voice low and steady, but with an edge that made it clear he wasn't going to let this go. "Who…" He snapped demandingly. Your eyes filled with tears as you looked up at him, the weight of everything crashing down on you. Trent's face hardened, his eyes narrowing as he took in you attempting to tell him what just happened but he couldn’t focus on anything but how sad you looked, how broken. He pulled you closer, wrapping you in his arms as if to shield you from the world, from the pain, from everything that had ever hurt you. In that moment, you felt safe for the first time in what seemed like forever. His arms were your refuge, his strength your solace. Trent's blood boiled with a fury he rarely felt, his hands shaking with the need to do something—anything—to make Josh, who he knew it had to have been, pay for what he'd done. But then he saw your tear-streaked face, your lips trembling as you tried to hold back sobs, and all that rage took a back seat. His anger didn't matter right now; you mattered. Your body shuddered with each sob, and Trent felt a pang of helplessness in his chest. He wanted to tell you everything would be alright, that he'd take care of everything. He wanted to promise that no one would ever hurt you again. But he knew that words wouldn’t be enough, not now. So, he just held you tighter, letting you cry into his shirt, his thumb brushing away the tears that spilled down your cheeks. “Hey, hey, hey, you're okay. I’ve got you,” he murmured, his voice a low, steady rumble that cut through the noise, anchoring you to the present. You buried your face against his chest, your hands clutching at his shirt as if he were the only thing keeping you from drowning. The tears kept coming, but they were different now—less frantic, more a release of all the tension you had been holding onto. Trent’s embrace was a lifeline, pulling you back from the edge of the abyss you had been teetering on. The world around you seemed to fade, the thumping bass and flashing lights dimming in comparison to the steady, comforting rhythm of Trent’s heartbeat against your ear. You could feel his warmth seeping into you, calming the storm that raged inside you. In his arms, you felt a safety you hadn’t known she needed—a reassurance that, despite everything, you weren’t alone.

“Just breathe for me,” Trent whispered, his voice soft and close to your ear. “I’m here. You’re safe.” You tried to do as he said, taking a shaky breath that caught in your throat. But with him holding you, the air seemed easier to draw in, the panic slowly ebbing away. The tears continued to fall, but now they were softer, quieter, as if his presence was slowly soothing the hurt you felt. For a moment, there was only you—no noise, no crowd, no chaos. Just the steady beat of his heart and the warmth of his embrace. Trent held you tightly, his grip firm yet gentle, his touch grounding you in a way that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, everything would be alright. You stood in there struggling to catch your breath as Trent's arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. The familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the faint smell of spilled drinks and cigarette smoke, grounding you in a way that felt comforting and electric all at once. He tightened his hold, his chin resting on the top of your head, and his fingers tracing soothing circles along your back. But even as he tried to comfort you, a battle still raged inside him. Part of him wanted to go find Josh right then and there, to make him pay for every single bruise on your skin, every tear he'd caused. The other part of him—the rational part—knew he needed to stay with you, to keep you safe and calm. And then there was the question he couldn't push away: Should he tell Jack?  Jack was his best friend, but Jack was also your brother. He deserved to know that his sister had been hurt, but Trent also knew how fiercely protective Jack was of you. If he told Jack, there’d be no holding him back, and things could spiral out of control. Plus, he wasn't sure if you'd want Jack to know—if you'd want your brother to see you in this vulnerable state.

"I got you," he whispered as his thoughts spiraled, his voice filled with a tenderness you hadn't felt in a long time. "I got you, okay?" You felt something break in that moment-a wall you'd kept up around yourself for so long. And when his lips brushed the top of your head in a soft kiss, something stirred inside you, a longing that had been quietly simmering for years. It felt like an opening. Your heart raced as you pulled back slightly, your gaze finding his, and in the dim light, his eyes softened, a silent understanding passing between you. You hesitated, but then, almost instinctively, you tilted up, pressing your lips to his. It was a tentative kiss at first, a question in every touch of your lips against his. Trent tensed, caught off guard, but he didn't pull away. He wanted this so instead, his hands found your waist, his fingers digging in ever so slightly as he kissed you back, the warmth of his mouth melting away the hurt that had clung to you since your ex's cruel words. The world around you disappeared, leaving just the two of you tangled together, like a fuse that had finally been lit. The kiss grew deeper, hungrier, years of unspoken attraction finally bubbling over. His hands roamed, his grip on you tightening as he leaned into you, pushing you up against the cool brick wall behind you. Every touch, every brush of his lips against yours, felt like it was meant to be, like you'd waited your whole life for this moment. God, he wanted this… but not like this. This was wrong. So then, just as quickly as it started, he pulled back, his breathing heavy as he looked at you with wide eyes, his expression torn between disbelief and something deeper. 

"What...Y/N… what are we doing?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, his fingers still lingering on your skin. The conflict in his eyes was clear, and it sent a pang through your chest. But you didn't care about the doubts racing through his mind. You leaned in again, refusing to let go of this feeling. To remind him how very right this wrong was. The kiss was softer this time, gentler, but just as consuming. You poured everything into it—all the years of longing, the quiet, unspoken feelings, the ache you'd felt every time you saw him with someone else. And for a moment, he gave in, his lips moving against yours like he'd been holding back for years. You could feel him wanting more but then, with a deep sigh, he pulled away once more, his forehead resting against yours as he tried to steady his breathing. "Y/ N... we can't. I can't," he murmured, his voice thick with regret. "I'm sorry. I just..." He muttered. The rejection cut deeper than you expected, the pain raw and immediate. Your eyes burned with fresh tears as you took a shaLay step back, your heart pounding with a mix of heartbreak and anger.  

"Fuck you!" you cried, your voice trembling. It felt like the walls you'd let down were crashing back up, each one harder than before. You turned on your heel, ready to escape before he saw you fall apart completely. But he reached out, his hand grazing your arm, as if he couldn't quite let you go. You recoiled, stepping back, your expression a mix of pain and anger. 

"Wait," he pleaded softly, but you yanked your arm from his grasp, your heart shattering as you disappeared into the crowd, leaving him behind with the lingering taste of regret on his lips. Trent’s heart ached seeing the tears well up in your eyes again.  You turned and ran, pushing your way back through the crowd, your vision blurred with tears. You didn’t care where you were going; you just needed to get away from him, from the humiliation and the heartbreak. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you as you fled, but you didn’t look back. Trent watched you go, his heart sinking into his stomach. He wanted to run after you, to explain, to somehow make it right, but his feet felt like they were glued to the floor. He knew you needed space, needed time to cool off. But as he stood there, the guilt and worry gnawed at him. He had never wanted to hurt you, but in trying to protect you, he feared he had done exactly that. The sounds of the club grew louder around him, but Trent felt miles away, lost in his thoughts. He knew he’d have to find a way to make this right with you, to explain himself, and to make sure you knew how much he cared. But for now, all he could do was watch you disappear into the crowd, your absence leaving a painful ache in his chest. Trent leaned back against the wall, trying to process what had just happened. Some of his teammates who he was out with came over. They were giving him confused looks, clearly curious about the scene they had just witnessed. From their perspective, he had chased after to a a teary-eyed girl, who then kissed him like her life depended on it, and then, just as quickly, pulled away with a broken ‘fuck you.’ They had questions.

“Mate, what was that about?” one of them asked, laughing awkwardly, unsure how to react to the tension still lingering in the air.

“Bro, was that…” Another piled on cautiously, recognizing you. Trent ran his hands over his face, trying to shake off the flood of emotions. He glanced toward the crowd, desperately scanning for you, but you’d disappeared into the sea of people. His chest tightened, and he let out a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of what just happened settle in. He couldn’t explain it, not to them, not in a way that made any sense. 

“Yeah, was Jack’s sister.” He muttered after he took a deep breath, eyes still flicking toward the direction you’d gone. The second those words left his mouth, Trent knew something had shifted inside him. It wasn’t a lie, not really, but it felt bigger than that. It felt like a realization he’d been avoiding for too long. You weren’t just Jack’s sister. You were his everything. And the truth of that hit him like a freight train, leaving him standing there, breathless and rattled.

“Fuck, mate. That’s complicated.”  One of his teammates whistled, finally connecting the dots.

“Yeah,” Trent breathed out, his mind racing. It was beyond complicated. Jack was his best friend, and you… you were the girl who had been slowly slipping from childhood crush to something deeper, something dangerous. He shook his head, his thoughts swirling. The way you’d kissed him tonight, the hurt in your eyes, the fire in the way you’d pulled away—it was like everything had boiled over, and Trent had been too slow to catch up. He’d rejected you, not because he didn’t want you, but because he wanted you too much. He couldn’t handle the idea of hurting Jack, of crossing a line that could never be uncrossed. But now, standing there with his teammates still glancing at him for answers, he realized that line had already been blurred for a while. You weren’t just Jack’s sister. You hadn’t been for a long time. And now, Trent wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep pretending otherwise. As the music pulsed around him, Trent felt a shift. He needed to find you, needed to figure out what came next, no matter how messy it got. Because, after tonight, he knew he couldn’t go back to seeing you as just Jack’s little sister. You were more than that. You always had been. 

After leaving Trent behind, you had stumbled back into the chaos of the dance floor, your heart pounding and your emotions a tangled mess. You had felt rejected and humiliated, and in a haze of frustration and alcohol, you made a poor decision. You spotted a man at the bar—a tall, handsome stranger who had been eyeing you all night. Without much thought, you walked up to him and struck up a conversation. His flirty smile and eager compliments were a welcome distraction from the pain you felt. When he suggested you leave together far sooner than appropriate, you didn’t hesitate. You just wanted to forget, to numb the ache in your chest caused by Trent's rejection. You told Layla you felt sick and had needed to leave. She knew it was a farce but she also knew she couldn't stop you. She assumed it was just Josh being an ass she had no idea you had just kissed Trent. She called and called to find you; to leave with you but you just texted saying it was all fine. But as the night unfolded and you found yourself in the stranger's bed, you quickly realized how hollow it all felt. The sex was awkward and unfulfilling, a stark contrast to the passion you had imagined when you thought of Trent. You found yourself comparing the man to Trent in every way—his touch, his movements, the way he spoke to you. Every comparison only made you miss Trent more. You knew deep down that Trent would have been different—gentler or maybe rougher but definitely more attentive, more real. Tears stung your eyes as you lay there, regretting your impulsive decision. This was a low. By the time morning came, you left the stranger's place without a word, feeling emptier than before. You hadn’t heard from Trent since that night. Part of you was relieved, thinking it was better this way—less complicated. But another part of you ached for him, for his presence, for the safety you felt in his arms. 

You’d stumbled in through your front door just after dawn, your steps heavy and uneven, your head pounding with every movement. Jack was already up, a coffee mug in hand, leaning against the kitchen counter with a lazy grin. 

“Rough night?” he joked, his eyes barely glancing up from his phone. “You look like you’ve been through hell.” You tried to muster a response, but all that came out was a soft hum, barely audible over the sound of the coffee machine. Your shoulders slumped as you shuffled over to the fridge, your body moving on autopilot. The sting of tears was still fresh in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall again, not in front of him. Jack finally looked up from his phone, his grin fading when he saw the look on your face. He straightened up, setting his mug down on the counter, his brow furrowing with concern. “Hey, you okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, more serious.  You just hummed again, the sound weak and empty. You didn’t have the energy to explain, didn’t want to get into it with him. Not now. Not after everything that had happened. You could feel his eyes on you, watching you closely, but you kept your gaze fixed on the floor, avoiding his gaze. Jack took a step closer, his concern growing. “You sure?” he pressed gently, sensing something was wrong. “You don’t look so good.” You just shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak. Your throat felt tight, your chest aching with the effort of holding everything in. You needed to get out of there, away from his questions and his worry. You couldn’t deal with it, not now.

“I’m fine,” you finally managed to say, your voice barely more than a whisper. It was a lie, and you knew he could see right through it, but you didn’t care. You needed to be alone, to let yourself fall apart without an audience. Jack watched you, his expression a mix of confusion and concern, but he didn’t push any further. He just nodded, letting you go. He knew you knew he was there if you needed him. 

 “Alright,” he said quietly, stepping back. “But if you need anything...” You nodded, not waiting for him to finish. You turned and headed upstairs, your steps heavy and slow. As soon as you reached your room, you closed the door behind you and sank onto your bed, burying your face in your hands as the tears finally came.  The weight of the night before crashed down on you, and you couldn’t hold back the sobs that tore through your chest. The shame, the regret, the confusion—it was all too much. You’d thought you could handle it, thought you could keep it together, but now, alone in your room, it all felt too heavy to bear. You cried until there were no tears left, your body shaking with the force of your sobs. And when you finally stopped, when the tears finally ran dry, you were left with nothing but the hollow ache in your chest and the haunting memory of Trent’s rejection.

You were absolutely mortified. You had kissed Trent. How could you have done something so reckless? You laid there, staring blankly at the ceiling on Layla’s bed at her place, your mind racing in sheer panic. Every nerve in your body felt on edge, replaying that moment over and over. What was worse was that it never happened before, not even close, but something had come over you—like instinct taking over reason—and now you regretted it. Layla shifted beside you, sensing your turmoil. 

“Come on, it won’t that bad,” she said in an attempt to soften the blow. You groaned, rolling onto your side to face her. 

“No, Lays. I can never, ever see him again.” The words came out in a rush, your voice cracking under the weight of your embarrassment. She raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. 

“That’s not true.” She told you. You sat up, hugging your knees to your chest, your breath shaking. 

“It is! I crossed the line. And he… rejected me.” The last part was barely a whisper, like speaking it aloud made the sting of it even worse. You felt your face grow hot, the emotions swelling until they spilled over. The rejection was unbearable, and before you knew it, tears slipped down your cheeks. You tried to laugh it off, wiping at your face. “I’m sorry, I’m just tired,” you said, your voice wavering between a sob and a chuckle. Layla immediately wrapped you in her arms, pulling you close. 

“No, it’s not just tiredness,” she murmured into your hair, holding you tightly. “This sucks. The boy you like just said no. That’s a lot to handle, but we move.” You stayed in her embrace, taking in her warmth, but her words only made your heart ache more.

“I’m not even sure if I just like him,” you admitted, voice small and hollow as you pulled away slightly to look at her. Layla’s face twisted in confusion. 

“What?” she asked, blinking, and then a knowing look crossed her face as she softened. “Oh no. Babe…” You swallowed hard, blinking back more tears. 

“I mean, I do… but it’s more complicated than that. It’s not just like.” The weight of the word hung in the air between you both, unspoken but understood.

“You love him,” Layla said quietly with a frown she couldn’t control, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “But maybe right now, the feeling of love is for your friend.” She paused, her eyes full of sympathy. “You don’t need to hurt yourself imagining anything more, okay? Not right now.” You bit your lip and nodded, the tears still threatening to spill over. You were exhausted, heartbroken, confused.  You knew you loved Trent as Jack's best friend, as a friend of your own but you had never had an intimate relationship to say you loved him any deeper than that. The thought of those feelings right now though were making you sick.

“But what if I can’t face him? What if it’s too awkward?” Layla shook her head and gave you a reassuring squeeze. 

“You’ll bounce back. Trent’s nice. He’s not going to make fun of you for this or make it weird. You two have been friends for too long for that.” But deep down, you couldn’t shake the sting of rejection. Maybe Layla was right—Trent wouldn’t make fun of you, but things weren’t the same anymore. Not after this.

When Jack invited Trent along with all the other boys over for a movie night a few days later, Trent was hesitant. He knew you might be home, and he wasn’t sure how you’d feel seeing him. But Jack was his best friend, and Trent figured maybe it was time to face the music. As Trent walked up to Jack’s front door, his nerves were on edge. He took a deep breath and knocked, his mind racing with what he might say if you were there. The door swung open, and Jack greeted him with a grin, pulling him into a quick hug.

“All good, mate?” Jack said, stepping aside to let Trent in. But Trent only hummed. He managed a smile, following Jack inside. He glanced around the living room, half-expecting to see you curled up on the couch. But the room was empty. “Y/N’s out,” Jack said casually, noticing Trent’s quick survey of the room. “I think she’s been a bit off lately. Haven’t seen much of her.” Trent nodded, trying to hide his relief that you weren’t home but sadness Jack noticed things were off.. 

“Yeah, I haven’t seen her either,” he replied, his voice steady despite the churn in his stomach. Jack grabbed a bottle of water and handed one to Trent.

“She seemed pretty fucked up when she came back from a night out but didn’t tell me much, though.” Trent took a long sip of his water, not sure how to respond.  Jack and Trent were sitting in silence on their phones only best friends could sit in whilst waiting in the kitchen for the other boys to show up. Trent kept glancing toward the hallway, waiting for the moment you would come home. He wanted to see you, to talk to you, to somehow make things right. But as the minutes ticked by and there was no sign of you, a sense of unease settled in his chest. The sound of a key turning in the front door caught Trent’s attention. He tensed, his heart quickening as he heard the door open and close. A few seconds later, you appeared strutting through the house, your face mildly flushed from the summer heat outside. You froze when you saw Trent sitting there, your expression shifting from surprise to something unreadable. 

“Hey,” you said quietly, your voice tight.

“Hey,” Trent replied, his eyes locked on you.  Jack, sensing the tension, cleared his throat. 

“Hey, Y/N. Weird vibe but erm.. Lads are watching Shawshank tonight. Want to join?” He asked, trying to lessen whatever awkwardness just flooded the room. You shook your head, avoiding Trent’s gaze. 

“No, thanks. I’m just going to head to my room.” Jack looked between the two of you, frowning slightly. 

“You sure? You haven’t been out here much lately.” He cooed gently. 

“I’m sure,” you smiled sympathetically at your older brother. You appreciated him caring but this was far from something he could help with. You turned and disappeared down the hallway without another word. Trent watched you go, the weight of your unfinished business hanging heavy in the air. He knew he needed to talk to you, to explain himself, but he wasn’t sure if you’d even listen. For now, all he could do was sit and wait, hoping for a chance to make things right.

You had spent the last few days trying to keep yourself busy, but no matter what you did, you couldn’t get Trent out of your mind. Trent, on the other hand, was torn between worry and respect for your space. He had tried to find you that night at the club, but it was like you had vanished into thin air. He didn’t want to push you, especially after how things had ended between you. Still, the thought of your hurt and alone gnawed at him. Trent thought about that kiss everyday and how much withstraint he was having to practice. He wanted to rip your clothes off, he had to stop his hands' magnetic pull to grab your ass. It was a typical movie night—Jack had all the boys over for another film. They’d yell through the whole thing and gossip in a way they’d claim only girls did. You knew the drill by now, but tonight felt different. You hadn’t seen Trent since that moment, the kiss that had turned everything upside down. You tried to ignore how awkward things were between you and trent but you were dying of thirst and you weren’t sure if dying of embarrassment of dehydration would be worse, You settled on dehydration so you moved quickly through the house, attempting to avoid where all the boys were, but Trent wasn’t going to let it go. He heard you try to sneak into the kitchen.

“Y/N,” he called out quietly, coming into the room behind you and taking a few steps toward you. You froze, your back to him, the tension thick in the air. You could hear Jack in the cinema complaining about something, completely oblivious you’d hoped. You weren’t ready for this, not now, not when your emotions were so raw.

“Please, I don’t want to talk to you,” you said firmly, your voice low, trying to keep the emotion out of it.

“Y/N, come on… just give me a minute,” he persisted, his voice filled with a quiet plea.You whipped around, eyes already welling up. 

“Trent, I really don’t want to talk to you,” you snapped, trying to hold your composure. “Frankly, I’m having a hard time even just seeing you right now, so please,” you begged, your voice cracking under the weight of it all. You could feel your chest tightening, the tears threatening to spill. His face softened, but he didn’t move.

“I just want to talk. Please,” he said, sounding desperate now, like he was grasping at straws. But you couldn’t do this. Not here. Not with Jack just a few rooms away. You shook your head, blinking back tears, but one escaped anyway. 

“I don’t want to talk,” you choked out, your voice shaLay, as the tears began to build along your lash line. Trent stood there, helpless. His hands flexed at his sides like he didn’t know what to do, caught between wanting to comfort you and knowing that he couldn’t—not here, not now. You could see the frustration and guilt etched on his face, but it didn’t matter. You didn’t have the energy to deal with this.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice laced with regret. But you just shook your head again and walked out of the room, leaving him standing there, stuck in the mess that neither of you had any idea how to clean up. And the worst part was, Jack was still there—completely unaware of the storm brewing between you two, his heart left open to wounded arguably as much as yours if you couldn’t sort this.

Trent thought about that drunk, tearful kiss at the club every single day. It replayed in his mind over and over, the taste of it, the way your lips had trembled against his, the way your hands had gripped onto him like he was the only thing anchoring you. He hadn't even expected it—had been caught off guard by how much he wanted it too. But then, the reality had hit him hard. The restraint he had to practice afterward felt like torture. It felt like trying to fight a g force the way his hands moved on your body. He wanted to rip your clothes off that night, to give in to the magnetic pull that constantly drew him to you. But he couldn't. Not like that. Not when you were drunk and emotional. Not when it could ruin everything. Now, the moment haunted him, and he was stuck in the limbo of not knowing what to do next. What if you regretted it? What if that kiss had meant something completely different to you than it did to him? And what scared him the most-what kept him up at night-was the realization that he didn't just want the kiss. He wanted more than that. He wanted you in a way that wasn't just about desire or physical attraction. He wanted to be the one who made you smile, who you leaned on, who you could trust with all the messy bits of life. But what if he'd already blown his chance? What if that kiss had been the beginning of the end rather than the start of something more? 

This tension carried on for days. Neither you or Trent making any further attempts at sorting it. Trent sat at a restaurant with Jack and Noah one night, completely lost in his own thoughts. His fork hovered above his plate, food untouched, as he stared blankly at the table. Jack, noticing how quiet he’d been, shot Noah a look. They’d been trying to get him to open up all night, but nothing was working.

“Mate, seriously, what’s going on?” Jack finally asked, setting down his drink. “You’ve barely said two words.”

“Yeah, you’ve been in your own head all night. Go on.” Noah chimed in. Trent talked nonstop all the time so this was very out of character and it’d been going on for over a week. Trent shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He wasn’t sure if this was something he should even bring up, especially not with Jack sitting right there. But the weight of what happened between him and you had been pressing down on him for days, and he couldn’t keep it to himself anymore. He ran a hand over his hair, debating how to word it without setting off alarm bells.

“Have you ever…” he began slowly, his voice low, “turned down a girl and then immediately regretted it?” He sheepishly asked his eyes, flicking to both boys trying to gauge their responses. 

“Nah, mate. If I turn her down, it’s for a reason.” Noah, always the confident one, scoffed.

“Yeah, once or twice. Why?” But Jack, ever the romantic, leaned back in his chair with a thoughtful nod. Trent’s eyes flickered between them, his stomach churning as he chose his next words carefully. He had to be vague, had to make sure Jack wouldn’t catch on.

“There’s this girl…” he started. He hesitated, feeling the weight of his own words. “She kissed me, but she was drunk, so I pushed her away. Now she’s pissed, and she won’t talk to me.” Trent hesitantly explained. Trent wasn’t normally shy talking about women so this whole thing was very confusing for his friends.

“So why did you turn her down if you’re this worked up about it?” Noah’s brow furrowed.

“Because she was drunk!” Trent said, frustration lacing his voice. He looked down at the table, unable to meet their eyes. “I didn’t want it to be like that.” Jack shrugged, clearly puzzled. 

“That’s more than valid, mate. If she was drunk, you did the right thing. Why wouldn’t she understand that?” Trent groaned inwardly, knowing he couldn’t explain the real reason behind his frustration without giving too much away. The truth was, he didn’t want just a drunken kiss. He wanted more than that—something real, something that wasn’t just swept under the rug as a mistake.

“It’s complicated,” he muttered, his voice trailing off. Noah, always the one to push for action, smirked.

 “Next time you see her, just go for it. Easy.” He looked at Trent like he had solved his issue no problem. Trent couldn’t help but laugh at the simplicity of Noah’s solution. If only it were that easy. He wasn’t just dealing with any girl—this was you, Jack’s sister. It wasn’t something he could just ‘go for’ without thinking about the consequences. Jack, who had been listening quietly, leaned forward with a more serious expression. 

“Mate, just talk to her. Tell her you actually care about her and that you want it to be something she remembers, not something that happened when she was drunk. Simple as.” Trent’s heart sank. Jack had unknowingly hit the nail on the head. That’s exactly what he wanted to say to you, but how could he? How could he tell you that he cared about you—really cared about you—when Jack was right there, completely unaware of the storm brewing between the two of you? He tried to keep his expression neutral as Jack gave advice, but guilt gnawed at him. He was about to take his best mate’s advice and use it to get closer to his little sister. The irony wasn’t lost on him, and it made his stomach twist. But he couldn’t keep running from the situation. He had to talk to you, had to tell you how he felt before it drove him insane. Noah, oblivious to the deeper layers of the situation, laughed and gave Trent a light punch on the arm. 

“Yeah, man. What’s the worst that could happen? You talk, she listens, and you two figure it out, I imagine she’s leng.. Get her in bed. Done.” Noah quipped and Trent’s guilt worsened. He forced a chuckle, but his mind was already elsewhere. What was the worst that could happen? Jack could find out. He could lose his best friend. You could reject him, or worse—tell him that kiss was nothing more than a drunken mistake. The thought made his chest tighten. But Noah’s lightheartedness didn’t calm Trent’s nerves. Jack’s advice, however, echoed in his mind—talk to her, tell her how you feel. Trent knew it was the right move, but the fear of rejection, of ruining everything, loomed over him like a dark cloud. As they finished dinner and paid the bill, Trent’s thoughts were already on what was coming next. He was heading to your house after this. You’d be there. Jack would be there. And somehow, amidst it all, he had to figure out how to have that conversation. As they walked to the cars, Jack patted Trent on the back. 

“You’ll be alright, mate. Just don’t overthink it.” Trent forced a smile, but his mind was racing. He couldn’t shake the anxiety bubbling inside him. Jack’s words rang in his ears, and he knew he had to take the advice, but how? As Trent drove to your house, the weight of everything pressed down on him. He was about to walk into a house where everything could change in a matter of minutes. He wanted more than a kiss, more than just a fleeting moment—but what if you didn’t? What if that kiss had meant nothing to you? You only said you didn’t want to see him… were you just mad. He couldn’t tell.  Pulling into the driveway, he took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. He had to talk to you. He had to try, even if it scared him to death

Trent awkwardly made his way into the living room, his heart pounding as he spotted you already seated on the couch, a blanket wrapped around you. You looked adorable and it made him sadder. You were curled up in the corner, your eyes glued to the TV, but he could tell from the stiffness in your posture that you were aware of his presence. The soft glow from the screen cast a flickering light over your face, highlighting the tension in your jaw and the way your lips were pressed into a thin line. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should sit down. But with a deep breath, he took a seat next to you, careful to leave a respectful gap between you. The silence between you was thick, almost tangible, and he could feel the awkwardness settling over you like a heavy blanket. 

“Hey,” he said softly, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. You barely acknowledged him, giving a short nod without looking away from the TV. 

“Hey,” you replied curtly, your tone clipped. Trent’s heart sank a little at your cold reception. Never in his life had you greeted him like this and it was starting to eat at him but he couldn’t blame you. He knew he’d hurt you that night, and he was ready to face the consequences. He could imagine what he would feel like if you said no to him. Still, the distance between you now felt like a chasm, one he was desperate to cross. He kept his eyes on the screen, pretending to be engrossed in the show, but he was acutely aware of every small movement you made—the way you shifted slightly, the soft sound of your breath, the way your fingers fidgeted with the edge of the blanket. He wanted to say something, anything to bridge the gap, but the words seemed stuck in his throat. Minutes passed in silence, the tension between you unyielding. Trent’s mind raced with what he could say or do to make things right. He didn’t want to push you, didn’t want to overstep, but he also didn’t want to let this moment slip away without trying. Finally, gathering his courage, he reached out and gently placed his hand on your leg, just above your knee. It was a tentative touch, his fingers light and hesitant, but it was enough to make you stiffen slightly under his hand. You glanced down at his hand, then up at him, your eyes wide with surprise.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice soft but steady. “I didn’t mean to upset you that night.” He cooed gently. Your gaze remained on his hand for a moment longer before you sighed, your shoulders relaxing a fraction. 

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “For… trying to kiss you. I was drunk and— Clearly that’s not something you want and I get that…” You earnestly and awkwardly were trying to apologize but Trent couldn’t help but chuckle softly, interrupting you. 

“You honestly think I didn’t want to kiss you back?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his tone. He kept his eyes on the TV, a coy smile tugging at his lips.  “Trust me, Y/N, it took everything in me to stop.” You looked at him, a flicker of confusion mixed with curiosity in your eyes. 

“Then why did you?” you asked, your voice softer now, almost vulnerable. Trent’s smile faded slightly as he turned to meet your gaze. 

“Because you were upset and not in a good place. I didn’t want you to think I was taking advantage of you, especially after what that asshole did to you.” You flinched at the mention of Josh, the hurt from his cruel words still fresh in your mind. You looked away, your eyes downcast. 

“He… he said some awful things. It wasn’t great,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Trent’s grip on you tightened just a fraction, his touch becoming more reassuring. You sat there, your heart pounding as Trent's words hung in the air. He'd never spoken to you like that-direct, unfiltered, like he'd been holding back for too long. The way he placed his hand on your thigh, his fingers pressing just enough to make you aware of every inch of contact, sent a spark straight through you. Your mind raced to keep up, to make sense of what was happening, but he was already pushing forward, his tone low, serious, like he needed you to understand.

"That kid's a fucking idiot for losing you," he said, his voice tight, almost angry. "Saying whatever he could to make you feel small... he doesn't know shit about you, and you know that. Right?" You nodded slowly, words caught in your throat. It was true-you did know, somewhere deep down. But hearing it from Trent felt different, grounding, and it made the sting of your ex's words fade, bit by bit. Trent's hand stayed warm on your thigh, a quiet promise in the small gesture. You glanced up at him, your eyes searching his face. You could see the sincerity in his expression, the way his brow furrowed slightly with concern. 

“You really think that?” You asked quietly, your voice tinged with disbelief. Trent nodded, a small, earnest smile playing on his lips. 

“I know that. You’re smart, occasionally  funny,” he teased with a glint in his eyes and your lips curled,  “you’re the sweetest girl I know, and—” he hesitated for a moment, his cheeks flushing slightly, “—gorgeous. You’re fucking gorgeous. Anyone who can’t see that is a fucking donut.” He kept his eyes on the TV, trying to play it cool, trying to be nonchalant in case anyone else happened to come into the room but he could feel his heart hammering in his chest. He risked a quick glance at you and saw a soft smile slowly spreading across your face. The sight of it made his own heart lighten, the tension between you beginning to ease.

"Trent.." you started, wanting to say something, anything, but he shook his head slightly, a glimmer of intensity in his eyes.

"You're beautiful," he interrupted, each word sounding heavier than the last. It was like he'd been carrying them around, waiting for the right moment to let them out. You felt your cheeks flush, a mix of nerves and thrill rushing through you as his gaze stayed locked on yours. He leaned closer, lowering his voice so it’d be impossible for anyone else to hear, his hand firm on your thigh. "And just so you know... that's not the way you get bruises. Never again. I'll fucking kill him if he ever comes near you." His eyes were dark, protective in a way that felt both comforting and incredibly dangerous. Then, in the midst of the tension, he smirked, the intensity softening into something else, something teasing. "The only bruises you ever get are from not being bored in the bedroom. Yeah?” Your breath caught, your face flushing as his words registered. You recalled telling when you split with Josh citing boredom in the bedroom as a problem but you were surprised he remembered that. Surprised he just said that to you. Before you could respond, he gave you a wink, that same smirk lingering as he stood up and walked away, leaving you stunned, heart racing, and desperate for him to come back.

You laid in your bed later that night, staring up at the ceiling, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts about Trent. You could hear the low rumble of laughter drifting up from downstairs where Jack, Trent, and their friends were still hanging out. But your thoughts were miles away, lost in memories of Trent and all the moments you’d shared over the years. You closed your eyes and let the images flood your mind. The way he’d smile at you from across a room, a mischievous glint in his eyes, or the way he always seemed to find a reason to touch you—a hand on your shoulder, a playful nudge, his arm brushing against yours when they sat close. You thought about all the times he’d said sweet things to you, little compliments and comments that you’d always brushed off as friendly banter. You tried your entire life not to take the pet name ‘pretty girl’ too seriously, you always thought maybe he said that to every girl but now it felt personal and just for you. Was he talking about bruises in the bedroom in a sexual way, yeah 100% but did he mean that he would give them to you? Leave love bites on you? Your mind was racing.  But, lying there in the dark, you couldn’t help but wonder if there had been more to it. Your heart fluttered as you recalled the feel of his hand on your leg earlier tonight, the warmth of his touch and the firm yet gentle way he’d reassured you. You shivered, a pleasant tingle running through you as you thought of all the times his hands had been on you, even in the most innocent of ways. His touch always left a lingering warmth, a sensation that seemed to seep under your skin and settle deep within you, leaving you longing for more. You bit your lip, a wave of desire washing over you. In your longing haze, you wondered if maybe you’d been missing something all along. Had Trent been flirting with you all these years, in his subtle, teasing way but in all seriousness, did he want something? Was there something real to your relationship that you hadn’t let yourself see? Was it more than teasing? The thought sent a thrill through you, a mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation. Your fingers itched to reach for your phone, and before you could second-guess yourself, you grabbed it from your bedside table. You couldn’t shake what he said to you, Trent had made it clear-it wasn't that he wasn't interested. Now, you were ready to take the risk, fully aware that all the boys were together. It was dangerous, maybe even reckless, but that only made it more exhilarating. They were watching a movie in the cinema room, the lights dimmed, everyone absorbed in whatever action scene was playing on the screen. You were upstairs in bed, restless and buzzing with anticipation. You flipped your phone camera to 0.5 to catch yourself at a high angle, tits prominently displayed in your thin bralette, the flash making your nipples obviously visible. You typed out a message, your fingers moving faster than your brain could catch up.

"Is this the appropriate place to get those bruises you were talking about?"

You pressed send, heart pounding in your chest. The silence afterward was deafening as you waited for a response. It was insane you just did this, but you couldn't back out now. A part of you wished you could retract it but there it was… ‘read.’ Trent opened the message, his heart skipping a beat. He blinked, unsure if he'd seen it right, unsure if you had actually sent it. This was the first time you'd ever texted him directly. Sure, you'd always been in the group chats-always flirty in your usual playful way-but nothing like this. The last personal message you'd sent was your order for a takeaway months ago, and before that, it had been something for your birthday and then passport details for a trip that seemed forever ago. A trip you weren’t sure why you were invited on to begin with but it was one where you'd teetered on the edge of something more with him but never quite tipped over. Now you had pushed things over that fragile edge with a stupid text. There was a reason for the limited texts though, because you knew it’d lead to something just like this. Trent swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on the image, the words beneath it repeating in his head. He couldn't let the boys see this but he also didn’t want to look away. He couldn’t… but he had to.

Quickly, he swiped out of the message, his phone burning hot in his hand. He shoved the phone into his lap, screen down, and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus on anything but the visual of you barely in that bralette. He felt a slow, stupid grin spread across his face despite his best efforts. His heart was racing, and he could feel the tension building inside him. He knew things were spiraling. He'd always told himself this was a line he couldn't cross, but now? Now, it felt inevitable. Trent moved, his thumb hovered over his phone. He dimmed the screen, adjusted his seat in the chair, trying to play it cool making sure the other boys were none the wiser. His mind was racing, wondering if this was you really finally putting your hat in the ring. And god, if it was... there was no way he could say no. Now, all that was left was his response. Trent took his time responding, trying to be as calculated as possible. You stared at the screen, your breath catching in your throat as you waited for his response. The dots appeared then disappeared only to reappear, showing he was typing back, and your heart leaped into your throat. What was he going to say? Had you gone too far? You felt a rush of adrenaline mixed with a hint of fear. But underneath it all was a simmering excitement you couldn’t deny. You could practically feel the tension building in the air around you. Finally, your phone buzzed with a new message, and you hesitated before opening it, your pulse racing…

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what's to come!

Next part - Chapter 3 - Crossed A Few Lines xx

[sombrashe]

content afab!reader, chubby!reader, josh and reader are in an established relationship, cunnilingus

note(s) until dawn is actually a game about a polycule falling out | sam is just kinda there but both josh and reader thinks shes fine af

Josh’s voice is soft as he calls up to Sam. You’re spread out on the sectional couch listening to their short conversation as Josh tends to the fireplace in front of you. The television above drones on quietly in the background. Stretching you blink slowly at him, Sam’s response coming back after a short pause.

“I’m going to take a quick shower before we head out.”

“Oh, well, do you need any help? Maybe with your hair?”

The last comment is a mumble and you scoff making your way over to the minx. When he finally notices your presence you lightly smack his chest with the back of your hand. He feigns hurt with a well-placed hand over his wounded heart.

“What, you want me to go up there and ask her to join us?”

His eyelids widen for a moment before relaxing.

“Really?”

“As if, like you’d be able to focus”

Honestly, Sam is gorgeous and you wouldn't mind her joining your personal soiree. Unfortunately for you, Josh gets distracted easily and your last threesome ended with you unsatisfied after he got overwhelmed. Dancing your fingers over his shoulder blade you take in the heat dancing in the air. Pulling yourself away you plop back down onto the couch and bounce a little as you settle in. Dragging a blanket over your lap you feel the fluffiness beneath your fingertips. The loft feels nice and cozy especially with the autumn chill settling over the city. Making his way over to your spot he crouches in front of you with a wolfish grin. Pulling the blanket slowly off your legs you watch him with thin lips. Keeping your protests to yourself as you assess exactly what his plan is. Finally, he leaves the blanket in a pile on the floor next to him. With gentle hands on your knees, he starts slowly pushing them apart so he can watch your dress slide up your thighs.

“Joshua Washington I didn't spend hours getting ready just for you to undo it all with this spiked libido.”

He gives you a simple chuckle and kisses the inside of your plush thigh. Huffing you shift to give him better access. He licks a stripe from his spot against your skin to your lace bottoms. A cute black thong he bought you for your anniversary months ago. Something you didn't have a chance to wear until now. And he absolutely loved it. He gives you a little growl as he creates a wet spot right against your clothed pussy. You want to argue with him, claim if he does this you’ll have to take a shower and you three will be late for dinner. A weekly occurrence, something Josh would rather die than miss. You know better. He won’t leave a mark that you don’t beg him to. Once his spit soaks through you're panting like a dog in heat. Something something he has you wrapped around his finger. Whatever quote Emily scoffs at you every time you have to hang up because he's grinding against your full ass. You couldn't care less, especially when he starts hitting that sweet spot deep in you. Hooking his thumbs into the legs of the lace you raise your hips to allow him easier removal of the infuriating fabric. Once he pulls them down around your ankles he claps his hands together excitement glowing in his brilliant irises.

“Here’s Joshy”

“Did you just quote Psycho at my vagina?”

He immediately looks at you genuinely appalled.

“You're not being serious.”

“You know I can never sit through those old movies, they have such long intros.”

“I really don’t know if we can continue. Psycho. God”

“Josh, I’m sorry I got Psycho and The Shining mixed up. If it’s any consolation I was thinking of the 1960 version and not that Bates Motel shit I know you hate.”

He takes a moment to think it over before responding. A long moment too and it has you shifting.

“You saved yourself with that.”

He taps his pointer finger against your knee during his response. Diving forward his tongue easily finds your clit. Surprise and pleasure flood your veins at the same time and it leaves you lightheaded. Gripping a fistful of dark hair at the back of his head you press him closer to your core. Forcing two fingers beneath his chin he slips them inside your soaked core. Wiggling them he’s limited in the amount of room he has to thrust. Focusing on using the tips of his fingers he slightly moves them in and out while pressing hard against that spongy part inside of you.

“Oh~ Josh, fuck.”

“I got you, babe.”

His voice is muffled but you hear him clear as a bell. Huffing you weakly grind yourself against his face feeling his prominent nose press against the fat of your lower stomach. Letting your head fall back against the back of the couch you relish in the moment. Pleasure floods your abdomen and you can feel it tighten as you get closer to release. He alternates between short licks and hard sucks. Something that works in his favor as the coil in your abdomen finally snaps and you flood his chin and fingers in your essence. Panting you leave your eyes closed for a few moments as you attempt to catch your breath. Pulling out of you with a slick pop you nearly jump out of your skin as something pops against your chest. Blinking, you see Sam handing Josh a towel for his soaked limbs. Looking down you take the fresh pair of underwear in your hands and slip it around your ankles. Grabbing the towel out of the air as Josh tosses it to you you take a moment to clean yourself up before pulling the dark blue thong up your legs and settling it snugly against you. Fixing your dress you give Sam an apologetic smile.

“Hope you two worked up an appetite.”

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 11 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley gets a few second chances in the midst of a deployment he would rather not have to complete. He just wants to be home with you, trying to fix what is broken. But he doesn't know how much you've been struggling.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff

Length: 5100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Bradley felt devastation. Were you really going to make him wait the full eight weeks before you would talk to him? He couldn't do it. He had too much to say, and he needed to see your face.

"Fuck." He entered your phone number and tried again. And again. But as he was about to enter it for the fourth time, he grasped the iPad and forced himself to stand. 

"No answer?" the officer asked when Bradley handed it back to him. His response was somewhere between a nod and a shrug, and he felt like crying. "Want me to add you back onto the list?"

"Please," Bradley rasped, swallowing hard. It was still dinnertime. He could go back and get something to eat. But he'd lost his appetite, and even though he didn't mind bunking with Bob, having a few minutes alone in the room sounded like his best bet. 

It felt like his feet weighed a ton as he walked along all three corridors and down a flight of stairs before he was at his bunk door. And then he collapsed onto his bed without even removing his boots. You always picked up. You always answered his calls. You even answered after Josh attacked you. 

Bradley thought he was going to be sick. And then Bob unlocked the door and let himself inside. "Hey, Bob," he grunted, rubbing his temples with his fingers. 

"Oh. You seem annoyed that I'm here," he replied, closing the door very slowly. "Do you want to kick me out again so you can have the bunk to yourself?"

Bradley turned and looked at him, thoroughly confused. "Again?"

Bob blushed a little bit as he kept his hand on the doorknob. "Uh, yeah. Last time we bunked together? A few years ago? You kicked me out of the room in the middle of the night."

Bradley sat up on his bed. "I did?"

"Yeah," Bob said softly. "You came back annoyed with me. You asked me to leave. You had a woman with you."

Bradley felt even sicker now. He could vaguely remember what Bob was talking about. A deployment before he met you. It had been late. He wanted to hook up. And Bob had been his roommate at the time. 

"I can't believe I did that," Bradley whispered, getting to his feet and taking Bob by both shoulders, leading him away from the door. "That's never going to happen again." He gave him a quick hug. "I'm sorry. I don't want you to leave the bunk, okay? And I'm not going to hook up with anyone, unless my wife miraculously appears here and decides she still loves me."

Bob nodded. "She still loves you."

"I know she does," Bradley replied as he sank back down onto his bed. This time he removed his boots and tossed them next to the door. "I just need to do a lot better. I just want to have a happy wife."

"Yeah," Bob agreed, also untying his boots. "She makes you a lot better. You don't kick people out of their rooms anymore, and you always remember everyone's birthday."

Bradley groaned and nodded. "That's because she remembers everyone's birthday, and she reminds me."

Bob smiled and nodded as he pulled out some notebooks and a pen. "You were still annoyed though. When I came in just now. You can tell me why if you want to."

Bradley sat up and faced Bob across the few feet of space between their beds. "She didn't answer when I tried to call her. This is a first."

"Hmm," Bob hummed thoughtfully without saying anything else.

"Yeah," Bradley added. "There's a lot I want to tell her. Shit she deserves to hear. I'm afraid I'm going to forget or completely fuck it up by the time I get to talk to her."

Bob tried to hand him a notebook and his pen. "Write it down."

"Write what down?" Bradley asked, cautiously taking the offered items and flipping through the notebook which was empty.

"Write down all the things you want to say. I started journaling a few years ago to help organize my thoughts and manage my anxiety. I think it's helped me in a lot of ways, including making me a better, calmer aviator. But you could write notes to or about your wife. See what works."

And then Bob started writing in the other notebook, leaving Bradley to his own thoughts. He opened up to that first, pristine page and placed the pen to it.

Dear Baby Girl

----------------------------

You felt great after Sunday brunch with Cam and Maria. As soon as you got there, you said, "We've been trying to get pregnant. I'm not pregnant. Let's have mimosas and not talk about Bradley." And they listened. And it was wonderful. And it's not that you didn't want to talk about him or think about him, it was that you really needed a break. Because he was the only thing you were thinking about. 

On Monday, as soon as you got to work, it felt like you were leaving again for your doctor's appointment. You didn't even want to go. You didn't want to get on the scale. Ever since you overdid it on your honeymoon months ago, you'd been afraid to weigh yourself, because you knew this could be adding to your issues. 

When the nurse took your blood pressure and then told you to get onto the scale, you couldn't even look at the readout. You'd bring it up to the doctor in private, away from everyone else in the hallway. 

And then you were led back to an exam room and left to squirm around on the paper covered table in the rough hospital gown while you stared at your uniform folded neatly on the chair by the door. Your name tag was boldly reminding you that you'd tacked Bradshaw onto your last name. When your doctor walked in, she used your full hyphenated name when she greeted you, and you tried to smile. 

You thought about Bradley as you decided to get everything out of the way right from the start. "I want to talk about my weight. And fertility."

But a few minutes later, you were sitting with your mouth hanging slightly open. "You've lost almost fourteen pounds since this time last year. Were you intentionally trying to lose weight?" she asked, eyeing you carefully. 

"N-No. I thought I gained a lot of weight. I've been nervous to check. I'm...trying to get pregnant."

She nodded and started to examine your eyes and ears as she said, "You need to make sure you're taking care of yourself. Eating well. Three meals a day. Healthy snacks. Exercising." Then she looked you in the eye. "Based on your age and general health, I can refer you to a specialist once you've been trying for eight to twelve cycles without success. And your husband can have some tests run then as well."

"Right," you replied with a soft sigh, thinking about Bradley's exceptionally fucking awesome sperm once again. But you cracked a smile. "I'm already five cycles in, so halfway there."

She nodded. "You just give me a call if you need to."

You left the medical building, still adjusting your uniform and wondering how you'd lost so much weight without noticing. But your pants were feeling a little loose now. And so was your shirt. They were snug after your honeymoon. Had you lost fourteen pounds in just a few months?

When you reached your car, you closed your eyes and swallowed past the lump in your throat. You were not taking very good care of yourself. You could barely remember the last time you had lunch at work or ate something other than a protein bar for breakfast. Memories of lavish weekend breakfasts with Bradley filled your mind. You'd be perched on his lap, sharing one plate full of eggs, bacon, potato pancakes and grilled vegetables. When was the last time you did that? Spent an hour eating breakfast together with the occasional brush of Bradley's mustache along your neck? 

You had to wipe your tears away as you unlocked your door and climbed inside. You started the engine as you pulled your phone out of your bag. 

"No!" 

Missed FaceTime call from RESTRICTED

"Fuck!" Your fingers were shaking as you tried to enter your passcode. Then you tried to call back. Not Connected. Not Connected. Not Connected. 

You sat in your car and cried. You missed a call from Bradley. It must have been him. You missed it by seven minutes. And now it could be weeks before you got another opportunity to talk to him. 

Panic rose in your chest. He probably thought you ignored him. "Roo," you sobbed, resting your forehead on your steering wheel. You missed him so much, you felt sick most of the time. You were counting down the days to the start of your period, and you could remember how he used to plug your heating pad in for you and bring you Tylenol. He used to rub your back and share a bottle of wine. You missed him, and you wanted him back home, doing all the silly little things he used to do. You knew how good things could be. 

"I'm sorry," you whispered as you looked at the missed call notification one more time. Then you turned your volume up to full blast. You'd take your phone everywhere from now on. You drove back to work with a sinking feeling in your chest. What if he didn't even bother trying to call you back again?

That thought stayed with you all day, and you had to force yourself to grab something to eat on your way back up to your office. You choked down a sandwich that tasted disgusting as you sat there alone. 

You felt even worse the next day since you were barely able to sleep. And you knew you needed to eat something, but you couldn't even stomach any coffee. You headed right to work after you let Tramp out, and you didn't even make it to your lab before you ran into your boss. 

"Meet me in my office, Lieutenant Commander," Captain Bickel told you. "I need you to look over some paperwork that came in from Annapolis on the overlapping project."

"Right now, sir?" you asked softly. Your body was practically trembling with anxiety. 

"Yes," he replied, and your heart sank. You followed him down the hallway, each step harder to physically complete than the last. When you sank down into the chair across from his desk, he handed you a folder. Your hand visibly shook as you took it from him, and you were almost too nauseous to feel embarrassed. Almost. 

Heat and sweat broke out on your neck, and the cool air gave you goosebumps. You could feel every little hair on your body stand up on end as you listened to your boss talking, but nothing was processing in your mind. That missed call had you in almost constant hysterics, and you didn't know who to talk to about it. Nobody would understand how much of a fucking big deal this was to you. You promised Bradley you'd always answer his calls. You promised him. 

"Is that right?" Bickel asked you, his voice sounding muffled to your ears. "Lieutenant Commander? Is that right?"

You looked down at the unopened folder in your lap, and tears started to stream down your cheeks. It didn't even feel like you were crying. But you must be? It didn't make sense at all, but when you opened your mouth, you heard a choked sob as you tried to meet his eyes.

He was around the desk, kneeling in front of your chair immediately. "Hey," he kept saying over and over again, and you wanted to tell him to stop, but you just kept crying. There was soft pressure on the back of your hand where his palm was resting. You were still trying to meet his eyes, and when you finally did, he used your first name. "Are you okay?"

You sucked in so much air that it hurt your insides. Everything was uncomfortable and too quiet, and you could barely speak, but you managed to say, "I don't know."

So he just sat there with you as you gulped in more air that hurt while your head throbbed. It probably took you a long time until the weight of your body in the chair felt normal again, and you realized you were sitting in your own sweat. You were hungry and gross and you missed your husband. When your boss asked, "What can I do for you?" the only thing you could do right away was shrug. 

But a few beats later, you managed to whisper, "Do you remember when Josh was here, and you asked me if I wanted to talk to someone?"

His face looked even more alarmed now, but you didn't have the energy to explain anything to him. "Yes," he replied, and he stood and reached for his phone. You clutched at Bradley's wedding band through the fabric of your shirt.

-----------------------------

"The better plan for a more efficient flight path would be to take out the communications tower first and then strike their base," Admiral Dean informed the group of aviators for about the hundredth time. Bradley could have drawn the terrain maps from memory by now. He also couldn't help but think that the admirals were making sure that Slayer, Charmer and the other children were keeping up with the plans. "But we'll decide on the day of the mission which tactical option is better. Any questions?"

"Sir, what does the terrain look like again?" Charmer asked politely.

"Very good question," Dean replied, and Bradley gritted his teeth. It was a fucking idiotic question, and the rest of the room know it. He could practically feel the rage rolling off of Phoenix. If anyone from Top Gun had asked that question, the admiral would have snapped. Plus, Charmer and Slayer had taken to referring to Nat as Honey, which almost sent Bradley through the roof every single time. 

When everyone was dismissed for lunch, he was the first one out of the room, taking out his phone and opening it up to the notes app. Writing in the notebook from Bob every night had actually been more helpful than he expected, and occasionally he added a note to his phone so he would remember to write it down that night. He wasn't writing love letters exactly. They were more like little notes in which he was trying to describe how he felt about you. Trying to put into sentences everything he wanted to change, and also the things he wanted to stay the same. 

But the notebook was for him. You didn't need to read it. He'd keep it and look at it when he got home and started trying to put his marriage back on track. 

"Hey, Honey, you think you should be eating a sandwich instead of making me a sandwich?" Bradley looked up from his phone only to realize he had made it all the way to the dining hall. And Slayer was acting like a complete prick to Nat. She was the only female aviator on this detachment, which usually wouldn't have been an issue, but it was right now. 

Bradley saved the note he had written, and he turned to Slayer and calmly said, "Do you know how to shut your mouth, or do I need to show you?"

Loud booming laughter filled the space between them. "Old man, you couldn't show me how to do jack fucking shit. Except maybe nail your dog of a wife with a limp dick."

Bradley was for a split second reminded of the last time you and he had sex, and he could feel his cheeks start to flush. The thing was, Bradley didn't really mind the attention being on him instead of Nat or Bob, but this is what seemed to make his best friend snap. Nat snatched his phone out of his hand and held up the lock screen, which was actually a photo of you from the honeymoon. In your red bikini. With your tits pressed together and a dirty little smirk on your face. Bradley snapped it about a minute after he finished fucking you on the deck next to the pool.

"Does she look like a dog to you?" Nat asked the guys, and their eyes bugged out. This was bad. "No, she does not. And I'm not your Honey. Stop harassing me. Stop harassing Rooster. And stop harassing Bob."

But Slayer was still laughing. "She's hot, old man. She's definitely fucking around behind your back. Doubt you can keep up. Hell, I'd nail her." 

"Me too," Charming added as Bradley tucked his phone away in his pocket. And now Nat seemed to realize she shouldn't have reacted the way she did. Because Bradley was pissed. These fucking dipshits were really just the cherry on top of an already shitty deployment. 

"Let's get out of here," Nat said, about to reach for his arm. 

"I'm cool," Bradley snarled, even though he felt anything but. "Let's get some food." He picked up a tray and gripped it with white knuckles as he piled it up at random with food he didn't even really want. His mind was unfocused, and now he was thinking about how easy it actually would be for you to cheat on him while he was deployed. But that was a two way street, and he didn't want to open that horrible thought up inside of himself. 

"I'm sorry," Nat whispered as the two of them found a seat while Bob meandered over like he was unfazed by everything. Because he probably was. He had invited Bradley to join him while he meditated each night before bed. At first Bradley thought it seemed silly, but perhaps he was actually onto something. 

"Don't apologize, Nat."

"I shouldn't have taken your phone-"

"It's fine," he said, cutting her off. He was too tired to converse as he bit into his food. But it tasted like shit, so when he heard his name being called, he didn't mind the interruption. "I'm Bradshaw," he told the deckhand who was carrying an envelope. 

"What's that?" Nat asked, leaning over his arm as he opened it and pulled out a handwritten note on thick, creamy paper. 

"Holy shit," Bradley muttered. "It's from the commanding officer."

Her eyes bugged out. "As in the captain of the aircraft carrier?"

"Looks like it," Bradley replied as he read the note.

Lieutenant Commander B. Bradshaw,

You may use my personal communication device this evening at 2300 hours in my study.

Admiral Berry

He wasn't sure what exactly was going on, but given the chance, he would absolutely try to call you again.

---------------------------------

You looked at Dr. Genevieve in her khaki uniform with her hair pulled up into a tight bun. She reminded you of your mom with her placid smile and sharp eyes. You were sitting in a soft, brown leather chair across from her, sipping some lemonade and eating the pretzel sticks Bickel gave you. And you already felt a lot better, although slightly embarrassed. But you were here now. And she was more than willing to talk to you.

"I... should have probably come here a few weeks ago," you said softly before taking one last sip of your drink. 

"Today's a good day to talk," she replied, but she didn't rush you. 

"Yeah," you said, nodding as you ran your palm down the arm of the chair in her office on base. "That's probably true. I'm... struggling? For lack of a better word? I guess?"

"That word is okay to use. But struggling is normal, Lieutenant Commander. It's something we all do."

So you took a deep, shaky breath and let it out slowly. "I had a panic attack. In front of my boss," you groaned, covering your eyes with your hand. 

She kind of shrugged. "That's a pretty safe place for that kind of thing."

"I guess so," you replied with a little laugh. But then your face fell as you played with a stray thread on your uniform shirt. "I'm afraid I messed up my marriage," you said, barely loud enough for her to hear. But when you met her eyes through your tears, you were certain she heard you. "And I want to fix all of it, but I don't know how."

And with a few words of encouragement from her, you let loose. If you had to guess, you thought you must have gone on for ten minutes without stopping. You told this woman everything, and with each passing sentence, it started to feel easier to keep going. She took a few notes, and asked a few followup questions, but ultimately she let you talk as much as you wanted to. About whatever you wanted to. 

And even though you were exhausted and your uniform was uncomfortable, you felt so much better as you said, "I was getting my physical the other day. And I had so many questions for my doctor, and I've been so focused on trying to get pregnant. Apparently I lost weight. And I know I haven't been eating. And I think I can get better. Used to be a lot better. But when I finally thought to check my phone, I missed a call from Bradley. And I'm so afraid he thinks I didn't want to talk to him," you gasped as your voice cracked. 

As the back of your head came to rest against the leather, you closed your eyes. You could just picture him and the way he smiled at you. The way he had always smiled just for you. And maybe you should feel more like crying right now, but you were just too fucking tired. 

Dr. Genevieve waited until you were looking at her again before she asked, "You'd want to talk to your husband now? If you could have the chance?"

"Yes, but God... it could be weeks before he's allowed to call again. If at all." Just thinking about it had that cold, clammy feeling building inside you again. 

"Hmm," she hummed. "You said he's on the Theodore Roosevelt?"

"Yep," you replied. "Good old, Teddy. He told me he's been deployed to that vessel more than any other," you said, feeling like you were at the point of rambling nonsense now. But at least your heart was no longer pounding behind your eyes.

"Well, I'll see what I can do."

After that, you left her office and Bickel dismissed you for the day. But Dr. Genevieve told you to keep your phone on you, and you promised you would. And perhaps you should have been mortified when you got home only to answer the door twenty minutes later for a delivery guy, but you weren't.

"I didn't order any food," you told him, but he just handed you two bags and left without asking you to pay. When you took the bags to the kitchen and emptied them onto the counter, you saw a receipt that said it had been charged to J. Bickel. "Oh," you gasped, and Tramp looked up at you. "Yeah, he's pretty chill," you informed your dog about your boss. 

And then you cut the enormous sandwich in half and carried it to the dining room table along with the soup and salad. You ate until you couldn't physically take another bite, and then you got into a hot bath and stayed there until the water turned cool. 

It wasn't even 6 o'clock when you got yourself into bed, but your belly was full and you felt clean. And it had been such a relief to talk to someone who you'd never met before about every dirty detail you'd been living with. Your chest didn't hurt as much, and you didn't feel as helpless. 

You rubbed Tramp's belly, and just as you turned to plug your phone in, it started ringing. You gasped and dropped it on the floor. "Shit!" You almost fell out of bed as you scrambled for it. You'd caught a glimpse of Restricted Caller on the screen, but you wanted to make sure. 

"Bradley?" you nearly shrieked as you answered the call and finally got to see your husband's face. "Bradley!"

"Baby Girl," he rasped, and you sank to the floor as you smiled and started to cry. 

"I'm sorry," you said quickly as he shook his head. "I'm so sorry I let you leave without making sure you heard me when I told you I love you. Because I love you, and I miss you. And I'm sorry I didn't answer your call on Monday! But I was at my doctor's appointment!"

"Shh," he soothed, his eyes glued on yours as he shook his head again. "It's okay. I love you. And I don't need you to apologize for any of that right now. I'm the one who's sorry. I'm so sorry I let you down."

"Roo."

"I just need to know you still love me."

"Of course I still love you," you sobbed, wiping your eyes on his soft UVA shirt. "Bradley, I always will."

His eyes dipped down. "You're wearing my ring, Sweetheart?" 

You nodded and reached for the charms and his wedding band where they hung. "Why did you leave it?" you asked in a tiny, pathetic voice. "I hate that you're not wearing your ring."

He gave you a funny look. "I am," he insisted, holding up his left hand for you to see. 

"What's that?" you asked, examining something that was very much not his wedding band. 

"The silicone ring I told you I was ordering. I actually hate it," he said with a laugh. "You look so beautiful."

"When did you tell me you were ordering a silicone ring?" you asked.

"I don't know," he murmured. "A month ago? I put it on the shopping list on the fridge and asked if you wanted one, too. God, you look so beautiful."

But you just stared at him before springing to your feet and taking your phone into the kitchen. "Oh," you gasped. The magnetic whiteboard was partly covered by a piece of paper, and the marker had gotten smudged, but there it was. Bradley's pre deployment shopping list. You had been so distracted lately, nothing was sticking in your mind when it should have been. "I'm so sorry."

"Hey, Sweetheart," he said, and you looked back at your phone. "I wouldn't have left you without a ring on. Ever. And I can't wait to get back home and get the real thing off your necklace chain and put it back on my finger."

"You can't wait?" you asked, matching his little smile with your own. 

"Of course I can't wait. I'm ready to come home now. I love you. Being away from you and feeling uncertain has been terrifying." 

You couldn't believe how calm he sounded. Like he was just waiting to hear from you and see you, knowing everything would be okay. "I've been having a rough time," you said very softly as you walked back toward the bedroom. "It hasn't been okay."

He looked more concerned now. "We'll fix it," he promised. "As soon as we're together, we will fix it. No matter what it takes. You are my top priority. And that's never going to change. You understand?"

"Yeah," you whispered as you climbed back into bed. 

"If you're not happy with me, then I need to try harder and do better," he promised. "Until there's no doubt in your mind about how much I love you. And I don't need anything else."

There was an unspoken undertone of how the two of wanted and had been trying for a baby. But you didn't want to be the one to say it. "You're sure you don't need anything else?"

He nodded and said, "I'm sure, Sweetheart. I'd be lucky to get to spend the rest of my life with you. Just you. Me and you."

You felt calm in a way you hadn't been in months. It felt like you were melting back into your pillow as Bradley said, "Now why don't you tell me how you pulled this one off. Because I'm sitting in the Commanding Officer's quarters right now, using Admiral Berry's personal iPad."

You laughed, realizing he was sitting in front of an elaborate looking bookshelf as he smiled at you. "I think Admiral Berry is married to Dr. Genevieve Berry." And when you told him you had a panic attack at work and talked to a therapist on base, your husband said he was proud of you for taking care of yourself.

"I haven't been though, Roo," you whispered sadly as you burrowed down in the blankets. "Not really."

"I'm the one who hasn't been taking good enough care of both of us. I promise that's going to change when I get home. I need it to, and you deserve it."

Your body shook slightly with a quiet sob, and you nodded. "My period is going to start soon."

"Okay," he said softly. "We're not worrying about that right now. But I wish I was home to plug in your heating pad and rub your feet." 

"Me, too. I love you." It felt so good to say it to him. His lips parted like he had something to say, then you saw him look to his right. 

"Right, absolutely," he said to someone off screen. "No problem."

When he was facing you again, you asked, "You have to go?" 

"I do," he confirmed with a frown. "But first, can you promise me a few things?"

"Yes."

"You'll make sure you're getting enough sleep and eating enough? And talking to someone if you feel like you're struggling?"

"I promise. And, Roo? If you call and I don't answer, it's because I couldn't, okay? I always want to hear from you."

He smiled and exhaled in visible relief. "I understand. I love you. See you in a few weeks."

------------------------------

Can we...can we breathe a little bit now? Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 12

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@heli991113

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@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@teddyluvs2sing

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@ccbb2222

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[jetblack4realz]

lake days ii - jake "hangman" seresin x reader

summary - jake is having a blast with your family on the lake, relationships grow - and so do certain tensions

pt ii to this one :) , pt iii , pt iv , pt v

warnings- nah

word count - 3.4k

______________________________________________________________

you found yourself laughing as jake took yet another tumble off the wakeboard.

"you've gotta turn it!" you yelled from the back of the boat, leaning towards him with a grin. he rolled his eyes, wiping his face free from the water.

"i know," he huffed.

"if you did you'd be riding right now," you said with raised brows. you smiled wider, nodding to the tugrope in front of him. "grab on, we're going again."

he breathed out a tired groan, following your instructions and laying back in the water, trying to keep the heavy board perpendicular to him on his feet. you turned around, walking back to where logan was at the wheel. you nudged him, grin returning.

"i got it," you told him. the man stepped out of your way, laughing lightly.

"be nice to him. it's his first time," he told you. you stood at the dashboard, hand on the throttle as you glanced back at jake.

"he'd had enough tries. this is it; all or nothing." your smile was despicable as you threw your head back. "ready, jake?"

when he spotted you at the wheel his eyes widened and his grip strengthened.

"turn and stand!" you instructed for what felt like the millionth time that day, pushing down on the throttle to increase the speed enough to get him out of the water. you glanced back to see him riding the waves well enough and pushed down again, picking up speed quickly.

the board attached to his feet skidded across the water as he tried to maneuver outside of the wake, but before he could, you turned the boat. it wasn't too sharp, you didn't want to throw him off too bad, just enough. he glared at you before focusing again, to which you turned the other direction. he yelled something none of you could hear, which only made you laugh.

"let him get out of the wake," your dad said, but the smile on his lips told you otherwise. you shrugged.

"he'll figure it out." another turn.

you kept up this routine until jake's board finally caught the edge of a wave on his way out of the wake, sending him face first into the water. you quickly pulled around, letting the boat drift up to him as he unlaced the boots, holding the board up for gideon to take.

"good job," you told him as he passed you. "you stood up."

"i coulda done a lot more than that if you woulda let me," he said with raised eyebrows.

"you were getting a little too cocky with everything else," you replied dismissively, waving it away with a small smile. "had to put you in your place."

"and i'm gonna put you in your place," logan said, standing next to you with his hands on his hips, a wide smirk on his lips. you turned to look at the back of the boat quickly, eyes wide.

"no," you breathed out.

"hell yeah," jake breathed, grinning as you both watched a small tube get blown up by a grinning gideon.

"i'll go with y/n first," darren offered, a wicked grin on his lips as he eyed you.

"i'll push you off before logan even has a chance to take off. i'm not riding with you," you told the boy, glaring at him sharply.

"oh why not?" he whined.

"because last time we went together you full on bodied me and i swear i left with a concussion," you answered. "i'm going with josh."

josh laughed quietly. "deal."

as you pulled your lifejacket off the clips on the side of the boat and began strapping it to yourself, logan took his place at the wheel, leaning over to whisper to jake, "she hates the tube the most. ends up hurt every year but refuses to get off."

"even though she hates it?" jake asked.

"you should know how she is by now," logan said with a shake of his head. "stubborn as a bull."

jake laughed, watching you as you laid belly down on the small raft, gripping the handle in front of you tightly as joshua joined you. your brother was naturally easy going, and normally so were you, but his laidback nature just made you look that much more tense.

darren and gideon pushed you two off the back. "ready y'all?"

as you two drifted farther back, jake watched you nod slowly. "ready."

logan glanced back at his brothers, his grin matching that of you when you started dragging jake on the wakeboard. "let's put 'em through it."

you expected him to start off slowly as per usual with water sports, but logan had no such intentions. jake had to catch himself on the windshield when he took off, watching you face drop in horror as the pullrope jerked forward, bringing you and josh with it.

your knuckles were white as you gripped the handle in front as well as one to the side, leaning josh's way when you began to skip across the water your direction. you were screaming something at the people in the boat, earning loud laughs from the men and brynlee. when logan straightened out for a moment, you held up the finger before screeching as he turned sharply again.

this went on for a few minutes before josh finally put a hand up, wanting to be done.

"you ready seresin?" brynlee asked jake as darren pulled his lifejacket down for him. "you're next."

"you wanna come with?" he asked darren with a grin as he zipped his jacket around him.

"nah man, you're with y/n," he answered. "no way in hell she's getting off now. this is just the beginning."

"what?" jake asked with furrowed brows.

"you'll see," gideon laughed as he pulled josh up from the water. josh smiled, gesturing a hand to the tube where you laid with a stoic expression.

"all you buddy."

jake joined you, laughing at the look of pure concentration on your face. "you good, darlin'?"

"we ain't falling off of this," you told him strictly. "promise me that."

"alright, alright," he laughed as darren and gideon pushed you both out. "any technique to it?"

"when it drifts your way, lean mine and vice versa. hold on tight, keep your body to the tube so you ain't hitting mine, and well, just buckle in," you answered.

"shouldn't be too hard. i mean, you did it," he told you with a smirk.

"that was easy. i have a feeling now that you're out here with me we're in for it," you told him, watching logan carefully. your eyes widened. "hang on!"

you both got thrown forward with a jolt, jake barely able to keep himself forward as he threw his head up with wide eyes. logan took a sharp right, making you skid your way. you leaned into jake, him leaning his way as to keep y'all from tipping.

"what the hell?!" he cried as logan turned the other way, requiring jake to dig himself into your side.

"exactly!" you yelled back. the waves were aggressive, but in the wake they were calmer, allowing you to breathe a bit as he straightened out. "oh shit."

"what?" jake asked quickly, looking to you. "he's slowing down. isn't that a good thing?"

"he's making bigger waves," you told him, eyes widening as you watched the water. "incoming!"

the tube went flying upwards and you screamed, hanging on tight. when you hit the water again, you nearly ended up with your face in jake's shoulder and an instant black eye, but you managed to straighten out before you gave yourself said black eye. you hit another, and another, and another before he stepped on the gas and you began skidding to the side, exiting the wake.

"this is crazy!" jake yelled.

"i know!" you yelled back.

"but fun!" he had a wide smile on his face as the wind whipped through his hair and for the first time in years, you began to see the tubing experience as maybe something other than a competition with your brothers.

"yeah, i guess so!" you called back through the sounds of the water. he yelled in delight as you caught some air again and you watched his smile grow again, his eyes wide in excitement.

you smiled as you hit the water again, skidding back and forth. on one particularly long turn, you had to grab onto jake's front handle, the man resorting to his two side ones. this put you two incredibly close to each other, both pretending not to notice as you held on for dear life.

you laughed when you hit another large wave, eyes on jake instead of the water as he whooped loudly, hand in the air excitedly.

logan turned the boat sharply as a nearby boat drove by, creating even more waves for you and jake to hit. you groaned as you went through what felt like a washing machine, your stomach hurting as you continually slapped against the surface of the tube. and then, you hit the biggest wave you swore you'd ever seen, earning a scream.

jake was laughing as your hands slipped from the grips and you both went flying, dropping into the water with large splashes.

you surfaced quickly, gasping for air and moving to pull your hair from your face. you choked up some water, coughing hard.

"jake?" you called, looking around for the man.

"right here sweetheart," he yelled with a laugh from behind you, already swimming in your direction. you were still coughing up water, having still been shrieking when you entered the water and causing you to breathe what felt like the whole lake in. his brows furrowed as he approached, grabbing you and holding you around the waist as you struggled to breathe again. "just focus on your breathing, i'm keeping you up," he told you. "yeah, just catch your breath darlin', it's alright."

after a few moments you began to breathe in shaky breaths without choking on water still in your lungs and you breathed out heavily, forehead resting on jake's shoulder as you did as he said. "catch your breath hun."

he had you perched on his knee practically when you finally were able to breathe again and the boat had pulled around completely.

"you alright?" joshua called with knitted brows.

"all good, just breathed in some water," you answered with a laugh. jake kept an arm around you as he swam to the back of the boat, hands on your waist as he pushed you up onto the surfdeck.

you stumbled onto the surfdeck, shaking your hands out from the pain your grip had ensured. darren held a hand out for tyler, pulling the man up next to you.

"you going again, y/n?" logan asked, turning to face y'all.

"nah, maybe later. all you darren," you said to the boy, taking off your lifejacket and sitting with a dramatic sigh onto the backseats. jake laughed, sitting next to you with an arm draped over the back of the leather seats.

"good run, y/n, that was fun," he told you.

"yeah, it was," you replied with a smile.

as logan took off with darren and gideon in tow, he and joshua exchanged wondering expressions with their wives who were lounging up front, kyrie having replaced your father after lunch. they only laughed and gestured to where you and jake were sitting.

you pulled your legs underneath you in a criss cross position, your knee jutting out over jake's thigh, the man sitting awfully close to you. almost instinctively, he rested a hand on your knee, his head tilting back as his eyes slipped shut.

you watched him for a few moments, a small smile pulling at one corner of your mouth, before leaning back into your seat and therefore into his arm. you tilted slightly, wedging yourself into the crook of his shoulder. jake seemed perfectly content with this, leaning his head on yours for a moment before leaning back into the leather seat once more.

"tired?" he mumbled to you, peeking one eye open.

"a bit," you answered with a small smile and content sigh. "thanks for keeping your promise and doing this all with me."

"easy promise to keep," he answered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. it sent a surprising jolt through your spine and your cheeks flushed, eyes flickering to where your sister-in-laws were watching with wide grins.

'told you so', kyrie mouthed to you.

you simply rolled your eyes in response before shutting them and leaning into jake's shoulder more, his hand coming up from behind you to mess with your tangled hair. he was not helping your case.

but you weren't sure you wanted him to.

by the time that darren and gideon returned from their tubing escapade, it was nearing dusk and obviously time to return to the beach, pack it up, and head home.

"tomorrow we'll try the murder tube," darren said with knitted brows and a dark grin as he looked to jake. the older man quirked his brow.

"murder tube?" he laughed.

"that one actually is fun," you told him, laughing. "you'll love it, i promise. you can fit like five people on at a time, it's huge and it's crazy fun."

"that's what the ladies say about me," jake mumbled so just you and apparently gideon could hear, your brother busting up laughing as you rolled your eyes.

"oh shut up, hangman," you told him, pushing him away before he pulled you back into his side. you didn't notice how his smile dropped a bit when you went back to his callsign or how it returned when you rested in his embrace again. of course you wouldn't notice. what you did notice, due to its obvious effect, was how his arm tightened around your shoulders and how he rested his cheek on your head again, squeezing your knee twice.

when you pulled up to the beach, you stood with a tired groan, grabbing jake's arm and pulling him after you.

"can you back up a trailer?" you asked as you caught the keys to logan's truck from where the man threw them before getting off and returning to his children who were busy playing in the wet sand with their grandma and barrett.

jake scoffed. "of course i can back up a trailer."

"listen for gideon yelling at you - he probably will. just listen and we'll be fine," you told him, pulling the boat off the beach and returning to the ramp. it only took a few minutes, your dad following you on the jetski with gideon behind him.

you floated by the ramp, handing jake the keys and sending him up to the black truck. he ran up and retrieved it, backing it down into the water.

it went surprisingly well given that it was his first time aiming a trailer into a large body of water, but anyone could tell that it wasn't his first time towing a trailer.

joshua hopped from the boat to retrieve his car and fetch his family, your dad doing the same after he and gideon got the jetski up into the back. you gestured your hand forward, telling jake to pull up the ramp. after you were farther up and parked in an extremely long spot, you retrieved your shoes and climbed down, jumping into the passenger seat.

"do we need to go pick them up?" he asked.

"no, josh and dad will just bring 'em back here and then we'll load up and head home again," you answered. "it'll probably be another fifteen minutes or so."

the silence that rested between you wasn't uncomfortable, but it wasn't exactly comfortable. finally, jake let out a breath, looking at you with a hesitant smile.

"i had a lot of fun today," he told you.

you smiled. "i did too. i'm really glad you came, jake."

"me too," he agreed, his smile settling comfortingly. "and we still have two more days."

"well, now that you know how to do everything we can get into the real competition," you said with a smirk, laughing as his face fell.

"what the hell do you mean 'real competition'?"

"i'm joking, me and you will probably chill out the rest of the time. a few rides here and there, but everyone else will wanna try i'm sure," you laughed. he let out a breath of relief, smiling over at you.

"i thought you were serious for a second. i like that your family is competitive, but i don't know if i could take any more of it," he told you.

"the hangman seresin scared of a little competition?" you gasped dramatically. "i'm telling rooster."

he furrowed his brows deeply. "how do you know rooster?"

"i've been on different deployments, seresin," you laughed. "i've heard about your little rivalry from the chicken man himself. haven't decided who's better yet, though."

jake smirked, leaning closer to you. "i think you know."

"do i?" you hummed, trying to hide your smile and failing.

"you will by the end of this trip," he promised. and if you weren't crazy - which you could be, his eyes flickered down to your lips for a moment. he leaned away again, his smirk changing into his average grin. "what are we doing for dinner tonight?"

"you and me are on our own, so i was thinking spaghetti?" you suggested. "or i've got some stuff for shepherd's pie."

"you really said spaghetti when we could have shepherd's pie?" jake asked, shaking his head. "let's do that."

"it'll take longer," you warned.

"all the best things are worth the wait," he hummed, eyes on you for far longer than you liked.

soon enough, everyone was piled back in their respective vehicles, you and jake in the bed of the truck once more, your head on his shoulder as you fought sleep. his arm wrapped around you snugly and he whispered for you to take a nap if you could, sealing your slumber with a kiss to the top of your head.

when you finally got back to your house, jake instructed you to go upstairs, change, and shower. you lazily listened, appreciating the warm water that washed away the grime that came from the lake.

when you stumbled downstairs in your american flag sleep shorts and shirt, you were surprised to find him still in his swimshorts and a shepherd's pie in the oven. he set the timer before sighing contentedly.

"did you seriously make dinner?" you asked, surprising the man and making him turn around quickly.

"yeah," he answered with a shrug. "feel better?"

you hummed a 'yes'. "you should go take a shower. i'll watch the timer."

"if you insist," he answered, pressing a short kiss to your forehead as he passed you on his way to the stairs.

now, you weren't a stranger to the occasional hangman kiss. it was his favorite way to show you affection in silly moments, but he'd never actually been serious about it. with all the touching that had happened over the course of the day, you began to wonder what his intentions were now.

in all honesty, probably nothing changed, but even the idea that something had stirred something inside you that scared you to death.

you scrolled your phone until jake returned, his hair clean and damp. he walked towards you with a smile, a top gun shirt over his torso and some basketball shorts completing the outfit. he rounded the bar, standing a bit away from you as he squinted his eyes to look into the oven.

"timer go off yet?" you glanced at the oven for the fortieth time with a shake of your head.

"i think the navy's conditioned you into short showers," you told him with a short laugh. "i haven't been so lucky."

"no, you take forever," he said, pointing a finger at you and copying your laugh.

"it's relaxing, okay? i need some me time after spending the whole day with you," you told him, a smirk pulling at one corner of your lips. he rounded the bar, passing behind you and stopping momentarily to whisper in your ear - "you love me."

just then, the timer rang through your kitchen and you rolled your eyes, willing the light flush on your cheeks to fade. "i can't wait for this weekend to be over."

[honeybunhottie]

Oo headcanons for Chris or Josh crushing bad on Alt!reader? maybe like a gothic or metalhead style?

feel like both would be absolutely geeked about some scary looking women!!!

- 🦐

Omg I love this idea! Sorry in advance if this is totally off, I'm not super knowledgeable about the styles or culture but I tried my best! Please keep sending requests!!

Chris and Josh with an Alt! Reader

We’ll do this before the events of the game because I feel like they’d have too much going on otherwise.

Chris

This man LOVES alt baddies and I can say this for a fact

My source? I’ve never known a nerdy man who didn’t like an alt baddie

He and Josh are jokesters through and through. And also lowkey pervs

I can just imagine one day Josh is teasing him about never getting any

And then here walks by you, dressed head to toe in an outfit that’d probably make his mother scream

And he can’t take his eyes off of you.

Immediately his friends catch onto his (frankly, not subtle stare) and start teasing him

Eventually they have some pity and tell him your name at least.

This man makes it his mission to have an interaction with you

Spends at least a month stalking observing you in the hallways

What outfits you wear, what your friends wear, your fav eyeliner brand, how much you hate your lab partner, your plans after school, all of it

One time you bumped into each other and dropped your notebook

Papers flying everywhere and all

He helps you collect them all, and when your fingertips brush his hand feels like it’s evaporated. He didn’t know it was possible for appendages to feel like sparkling water, but here it was happening

When you say a simple “Thanks, Chris” he swears his heart stops

He kicks himself for the gaping stare he gave in response as he stuttered out something unintelligible. Like it seriously keeps him awake at night 

He knows he’s bordering on the weird line of things, but there’s literally no chance you guys would cross paths otherwise (in his mind at least)

Because little does he know, the was also a fact about alt baddies

I’ve never met one who didn’t VICERALLY NEED a nerdy man

Yep, you have noticed this blond nerd always around

Yes, you did think he was cute

And yes, your friends absolutely do notice

Eventually, they get tired of your mutual pining because it’s more than obvious that neither of you has enough balls to ask each other out. 

They set up a plan with the other squad to set you up, because everyone is tired of these two dorks fumbling around each other

They decide to pull the “make group plans but nobody shows up” card for the new movie coming out

Chris is chilling in the hallway on his phone,anxiously glancing at the door every other minute because why the hell aren’t they here yet?

He freaks out when he sees you walk in, dressed even cooler than usual, all by your lonesome. 

You seem lost, looking for something before checking your phone. You sport a flustered look afterwards.

At the same time, Chris feels his phone buzz with a text too

‘Have fun man!’

‘Good luck!!’

‘Take ‘em to the bone zone buddy!’

He rolls his eyes at the last one before realizing what they’re referring to

He looks up from his phone only to get jumpscared by you standing right next to him

“Looks like we’ve been set up”

He immediately starts apologizing before you put a finger to his lips to shush him’

“I’m kinda looking forward to this”

Lord help him

He’s still singing Josh’s praises years later though, so something worked out right!

Josh

I loveeeee Josh

And nothing about this man screams subtle to me

Will he immediately tell you to your face how hot he thinks you are?

Probably not

Will he find every opportunity to hang out and find things in common with you?

Yes, 100%

This man is around every corner, every turn with that bewitching stare and stupid laugh

I feel like he would love your alt style. I mean he’s super into horror movies and the darker side of things, I feel like he’d enjoy someone different.

Flirty jokes galore, he loves making them, he’s kinda weird like that

He loves it if you match his energy too

He’s always asking about what music you’re into, have you seen that new movie? There’s this new haunted house coming soon.

He loves quality time, and he wants to become friends before he makes a move or anything.

Once you guys are FRIENDS, then he starts making moves

This man is playing chess while we are playing checkers

I have a feeling that it’s not too noticeable at first

Lots of jokes still

Lots of “jk jk, unless…”

Nahhhh

Unless…

He’s always getting you the new album for your fav band, or buying you cool stuff when he gets dragged to the mall with his sisters.

Is a firm believer that it’ll happen if it happens

And is very content to just ride along with you.

Overall, 10/10 we love them both

[beatrixstonehill2]

"I'm a bit nervous but still pretty excited. My parents always raised me to believe it's a woman's job to please her man no matter what. If your bf is into big tits, you better grow bigger boobs or get the biggest implants you can stuff into them! Is he into fat girls? You better pile on all the weight you can for him. My friend Marcy dated a guy who was really turned on by girls with no arms or legs. She didn't hesitate for a minute to pop into the nearest surgeon and ask to have her limbs removed, despite being a gymnastics coach. I always admired any girl with that level of dedication and would feel like a failure as a woman if I couldn't reach the same standard.....

So, when I met Josh four months ago, and on our first date he confided he had a fetish for girls who get so pregnant they pop, my heart skipped a beat! Maybe..... this was like my ultimate test to prove how devoted I am to pleasing men and being a proper, good girl? I consulted with my parents and they were shocked I even thought the need to get their blessing. Sure enough a day later and my bf tells my doctor to put me on Femruptarin. My doctor looked very pleased about this, telling him he was a very lucky man, and to expect me to blow up in seven to eight months and enjoy the show. That he better flaunt me and show me off the whole time I'm pregnant. He promised he would, and that this isn't his first rodeo with bursting a girl by a long shot. I'm his tenth..... The whole time my bf and doctor never addressed me directly or asked my permission. I was perfectly womanly, acted on as an object for others' pleasure and nothing more. Like how Marcy existed to become her bf's limbless, breeder sex slave I exist to burst like a balloon for Josh.

I'm technically only about three and a half months pregnant and look at the size of me! I'm as big as a house. My womb is stuffed to the bursting point already and I'm tiny compared to how big I'll be by the time I fulfill my womanly duties for Josh and pop. True to his word, Josh trots me around town dressed in ludicrously skimpy clothes, showing me off, offering my body to men, since my body is technically his to give out! He makes me perform the wildest sex acts in public and I have to admit it is a lot of fun, and I do climax quite a lot before the crowds of people that gather, but my pleasure is not what's important..... Even if it is amazing to be sprawled out naked before a huge crowd, serving five cocks at once, my puffy, swollen pussy brutalized so utterly I squirt like a fire hydrant across the paved walkways of the local park. I love to be ravaged and fucked so savagely by random men, it's so very thrilling, I feel blessed to become Josh's girlfriend, even if it'll only last another five or six months if we're lucky.

Then I'll put on my best show yet for my community, and pop in front of them all, my uterus at last tearing and giving way as I shower my offering of twenty-some kids before my watchful audience. Free gifts for them to raise into the future devoted girlfriends and wives of our fair town..... It's so fulfilling to serve such an incredible man like Josh and be given the opportunity to be used as the community's personal receptacle for pent up sexual aggression. I hope Josh's next girlfriend is just as eager to burst for him, and he gets to indulge his fantasies with many, many more girls after her! Bursting is such a true sign of devotion that I'm positively blessed to be given the chance to give my body to do it for a guy!"