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xbellaxcarolinax · 11 months

Text

Scent

Miguel O’Hara X f!reader

Summary: It was an intoxicating scent. And he knew it was yours. (In which Miguel goes feral when you ovulate)

Word count: 4k+

Warnings: Language. Obvs. S m u t. Obvs. Oral, f receiving. P in V (no protection), cum eating. Cheesy probs. Reader says Miguel's name a lot lmfao not beta read.

Minors DNI.

Honestly, I don’t know how any of this stuff works. This is some bullshit and none of it makes sense. Enjoy.

...

Miguel was fucking losing it.

He couldn’t focus, couldn’t keep his head on straight. There was a thick fog clouding his judgment, disorienting him like a fever he couldn’t sweat out.

It started with a scent.

Light at first, a barely there whiff of something.

It lingered at HQ, trailing between passageways and different conference rooms. There were times when it didn't linger at all for weeks. Then it'd start right up again, progressively getting worse.

It was an intoxicating scent. And he knew it was yours. How could it not be when you spent the most time with him?

It happened once a month for a week at most, and like clockwork, his body reacted viciously, betraying him of all logical thoughts. Your scent seized him by the throat in a sort of chokehold. Some days were unbearable, your scent so strong that he’d have to fight with every muscle and nerve in his body not to touch you, to not bend you over and—

Well. That wasn't a healthy thought.

Recently (the last two months to be exact), he’d have to excuse himself and step out of the room for a few minutes whenever you’d arrive from your world to report for duty, sneaking off to the restroom to tug on his cock till he felt some relief. Images of you would flash in his mind: you on your knees with your lips wrapped around him, or the pained face he'd imagine would twist your features when sinking down on his thick length. He'd come in his hand, sticky ropes of white, using his release to coat his stiff length and go again.

He never truly felt satiated. It was something to keep his appetite at bay. But once he’d come back and face you he’d get hard all over again, drugged out on whatever smell it was that emanated off of you.

He’d salivate like a dog and his bulge would grow uncomfortably large in his skin-tight suit. It got to the point where he couldn’t face you, and whenever you’d greet him he’d return it with a simple grunt, giving you a clear view of his broad, imposing back. He never looked at you anymore unless to sneak in a quick glance and even then, it’d make his cock twitch in desperation, the head weeping, begging to be touched.

He was fucking feral, like a Neanderthal, primitive and obsessed.

You smelled rich, mildly tangy—not like the fruity perfumes some of the spider ladies wore around him. No, it was something else entirely, something earthy, like what he imagined was between your delicate legs. Like wet cunt ready to be taken.

And God, did he want to take it.

…

"Miguel."

He tensed up at the sound of your voice, running a hand through his unruly dark hair. Maybe the cafeteria at HQ wasn’t the best hiding spot.

It was the middle of the month—July fifteenth to be exact—which meant you had that smell again.

You were ovulating.

He knew enough about female anatomy to put the pieces together when he realized that about two weeks after his body reacted to your scent, you'd be in a terrible mood.

"What crawled up your ass?" He'd asked you once, keeping his eyes on all his monitors but immediately noting your discomfort. You sat on a chair beside him, head in your arms as you leaned on the desk.

He could feel you glaring daggers at his profile.

"Shut up. I'm on my period, asshole."

He did shut up after that.

Blood immediately began to rush toward his cock, bringing it to life.

You stood in front of him, one hand on your hip while the other held a plastic container from the empanada joint everyone had a taste for.

"What?" Miguel uttered, keeping his eyes trained on a particular stain on the otherwise pristine white table. Any distraction was a welcomed distraction.

You pulled back the chair opposite of his, plopping down on it unceremoniously. The action sent waves of your aroma toward him like a crashing wave, engulfing him completely. He stiffened, dropping his head slightly while the heel of his hand pressed over his growing bulge.

"You gonna tell me what the fuck is going on?"

“I…don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said through gritted teeth, fangs visible when he grimaced. His scarlet eyes wandered over your face for a few seconds before he ripped them away, barely avoiding the twitch in your brow and the growing frown on your lips.

“Seriously?” You scoffed, “You’ve been avoiding me for, what, two months? I’m surprised I got a hold of you. You’re never in the cafeteria.” You ripped open the container, digging inside to grab the fried little snack. “Do we have a problem I’m not aware of?”

Miguel watched you take a bite of the empanada, committed to memory the way your tongue lapped at the grease coating your lips. His hand pressed harder over his cock, and at that moment he cursed himself for implementing the suit-only rule. He could really use a pair of sweatpants right now.

“Well? Do we?” You challenged him, defiant as always. You had this look in your eye that he’s seen before—your adrenaline was about to kick into overdrive. Always ready for a fight.

He sighed, shaking his head, willing himself to breathe. He felt sweat begin to bead across his hairline, strands of his hair sticking down the sides of his face. Your scent was becoming unbearable, overwhelming him to the point where he felt lightheaded. He licked his dry lips, carelessly running the tip of his tongue over his sharp canines only to pierce through the delicate muscle. The salty taste of iron exploded in his mouth and he grunted, pinching his eyes shut in frustration.

"Mig."

“No!” He finally barked, slamming a fist over the table. It shook from the weight of his large hand, the empty container almost flying off the surface. You went wide-eyed for a moment at his outburst before pressing the last bite of your snack between your lips, unfazed.

“It clearly doesn’t seem that way,” you replied calmly, but the twitch in your brow remained and your eyes narrowed. You wiped your mouth and fingers with a brown recyclable napkin meticulously, “if you have a problem, say so.”

One thing you had in common with Miguel was your bluntness. You always cut to the chase, saying what you needed to without much thought. It was one of the things that he appreciated in a fellow spider person but right now it only served to irritate him. That last thing he wanted was to deal with someone as fucking stubborn as him.

He must've looked like hell because when you regarded him, the hardness in your eyes softened immensely as if only just realizing his disheveled appearance. You went to touch his hand over the table but he snatched it away before you could, glaring.

"You don't look so good,” you reasoned quietly, stung by his actions, “d’you need some help?”

"M'fine."

"I don't think—"

"Listen to me very carefully," Miguel hissed, nose flaring and skin burning hot, "I need you to get away from me."

"What—"

"I'm not gonna tell you again," he seethed, cock struggling to break free from the constraints of his suit, "Go. Leave."

You were stunned into silence, tapping your fingers over the table awkwardly before grabbing your mess and leaving without another word.

Miguel watched you leave with a groan, dropping his head back in aggravation.

He was so fucked.

…

You hadn't shown up to HQ in a while. He couldn't blame you.

While that should've been a win for Miguel, it wasn't. Sure, the violent attacks on his body had diminished somewhat, but now, just because you weren’t around as much didn’t mean you didn’t leave his thoughts for a second.

He could've called you—had that stupid watch to contact you—see if you were okay. But his pride assaulted him every time he so much as glanced at his watch.

His thoughts circulated and continued, imagining you in all the positions he wanted to put you in, which landed him back in the restroom for a daily cock tug when he should’ve been working.

The spiderverse needed to be controlled and admittingly, you were one of the best on his team. You were stealthy and intelligent—he needed you more than he'd cared to admit.

And...he missed you.

But you were off fighting crime and restoring the peace in your universe—at least that was the excuse you'd given him, only showing face when it was absolutely necessary.

Which, as of late, wasn’t very necessary.

And still, he suffered.

...

Earth- 0708.

A shit show of a universe where the height of winter was in the middle of fucking August. It was snowing, small tufts of flurries lightly coating the ground in white.

Miguel knew exactly where to find you. Sunnyside, Lowery Street off the seven train. On the corner of a bodega by the broken lamp post. He could walk to your apartment complex blind if he really wanted to.

And there it was. He could smell you upon arriving—through the concrete and rusty red brick, up the five floors to your window—he could smell you. His hands shook (not from the cold) as his claws gripped the aging wall, his cock doing its usual swelling.

You must have sensed him immediately, slamming your bedroom window open and peering out into the darkness before he could even make it to your window. The cold wind blew and carried your scent. Mierda.

“Miguel?” You called out, squinting down at him as he scaled the dusty brick wall. When he finally came face to face with you, he lowered his mask, revealing his flushed face and sweat-slicked hair. He could see his breath come out in short, little puffs.

“You couldn’t use the front door like a normal person?” You asked with a roll of your eyes, crossing your arms.

“When were we ever normal people?” It was meant to come out smooth as butter but Miguel’s voice was hoarse, throat seemingly drier than the Sahara. He cleared it, stepping through the window, turning around to quickly slam it shut. He was concentrating, forcing himself to take a deep breath before turning around to face you, except, you were already gone, disappearing deeper into your apartment.

He grunted, rubbing his eyes. He thought he’d gotten better at controlling himself. The gentle breathing helped, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t struggling to keep his cock under control. It twitched a few times, and he groaned, exiting your bedroom. It was now or never.

You were in your tiny kitchen, stirring a cup of tea while the TV in the living room softly played some sitcom he remembered you were into. You were in a black hoodie and gray sweats, your hair messily thrown up in a ponytail. He’d seen you this way more than he could count. When did you become so pretty? Miguel didn’t understand it. You were under his nose this whole time, and he never really looked at you. Well, that was wrong. He did, of course, he did, but he never indulged. He was too much of a workaholic for that.

“What do you want?” You asked, monotoned, “I took care of all the bad guys so I know you're not here for that.” You propped your elbows on your kitchen counter, resting your chin in the palm of your hand as you peered up at him. You’d always told him he looked massive in your apartment as if his shoulders would cave the entire place in, and now, with you looking at him like that—all doe eyes and confusion—just a tiny thing, well…his cock twitched.

He swallowed thickly, jaw tense as he looked away from you to collect himself.

“I gotta ask you somethin'.” The words rushed out of his mouth, the flashing images on the TV seemingly more interesting to him than anything else.

“Shoot.”

“It’s… gonna sound weird, bare with me.”

“O…kay.”

Miguel turned away from you as he always did, hoping to curb his sweltering need to take you against your wall like a beast. “Are you ovulating?” It was quiet for a beat, and his heart flew into his throat in pure mortification.

“What?”

“You heard me, I’m not repeating it again.”

“Miguel, what the fuck—”

“Just—answer the Goddamn question, por favor.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, bowing his head in frustration. He felt hot, his body burning as if molten lava flowed through his veins. His tone must have done something because when he looked over his shoulder you were on your phone tapping a few buttons.

“...Yes,” you finally answered, bringing your gaze to meet his half-lidded eyes, “according to my app.”

“Mierda,” He groaned, dropping his head in his hands, “fuck. Okay.”

“You gonna tell me what’s going on, Miguel?”

“And you ovulate mid-month? Between the twelfth and sixteenth? No don’t—don’t look at me like that, please,” Miguel choked as he began to pace back and forth, ignoring the incredulous look on your face that was both humiliating and overwhelmingly arousing at the same time, “Just—just answer.” Another beat of silence engulfed you both as you searched the information through your period tracker with a shaky hand.

“Uhh, yeah, t-that’s right.” You placed your phone down on the counter, your tea now cold and long forgotten. “Mig…what’s with the questions? How d’you even know that?”

He finally paused his steps to run a hand through his hair before facing you from a safe distance, hoping you wouldn’t notice the growing erection burning hot between his legs from the angle he was in. If you noticed the large space between you both, you didn’t mention it.

“I haven’t been ignoring you,” you snorted at the comment, and again, he pinched the bridge of his nose, “I haven’t been ignoring you by choice, me entiendes?”

“So what is it then?” You took a couple of steps closer while he took a couple of steps back.

“It’s your scent—you smell so fucking good and it's driving fucking crazy, muñeca.”

“I-I don’t understand, Mig, what—”

“Look, I don’t understand it either,” he ran a hand through his locks again and again as if ready to rip the strands off, “all I know is you have a…scent when you ovulate every month…and, well…” he dropped both arms to his sides, standing there like an idiot as you stepped closer to drink him in. Your eyes traced him over, his broad shoulders and muscled arms, his thick thighs, and his engorged co—

“M-Miguel?” Your gaze was pinned to his bulge, pushing against the confines of his suit. “Why didn't you tell me anything?”

The question made him burn—made him bare his fangs and curl his hands into tight fists.

"What did you expect?” He spat, pacing again, “How was I gonna tell you some shit like this?" He licked his lips, his body feeling feverish. If he didn't leave soon he was sure to do something he'd regret.

“Miguel, come here.” He ignored you, much too irritated and embarrassed to do anything but just stand there. His jaw clicked, the bone shifting under the skin as he grinded his teeth in frustration. He could hear your footsteps padding softly behind him until you stood in front of him, craning your neck just to make eye contact.

It was unbearable being in your presence. He was going lightheaded again, the arousal almost blinding.

“Mig? D-did you need some help?” You whispered, your fingers ghosting over his chiseled abdomen, ready to trail lower but his large hand gripped you by the wrist, halting your movements.

“No.” He choked, “I’m not gonna force you to do something you don’t want to. Just came to tell you.”

“What if I want to?” You continued, lifting your free hand to press your warm palm over his heaving chest, “What if I told you I’ve wanted to do this for a long time?”

Miguel hissed as soon as you cupped his erection, gently rubbing your palm up and down the smooth surface of his bulge, hidden behind the silky fabric of his suit.

“Poor Miguel—all this suffering, all this grief, when all you needed was for me to relieve you,” you tutted, feeling how incredibly hard he was, “so I have a scent, huh?” Miguel groaned, his head lolling to the side as he watched your careful movements. The friction wasn’t enough, but it was more than he could have asked for in the last few months. His hand was nothing compared to yours. “What do I smell like then?”

“Like wet pussy,” he swallowed thickly, hands fighting the urge to grip you by the waist, “smells amazing, muñeca.” He hissed again when you gripped him firmly.

“Yeah?” You smiled, your eyes just as hooded as his, “And what do you want to do to me?”

A growl rumbled in his chest. Without saying another word, he pushed you back against the closest wall, caging you in his large arms.

“You have no idea the things I want to do to you.” He whispered, brushing the tip of his nose over yours. Your eyes fluttered, lips parting to take the tiniest breaths, chest heaving in arousal.

“Show me.” You breathed before Miguel kissed you. He curled around you, sealing you away from everything that wasn’t him. Your scent had his head buzzing, had him licking wildly into your mouth, his fangs grazing your skin more times than you could count.

He pawed at your hoodie, his claws sinking into the black fibers of the fabric. “Do you care about this?” He said between kisses, skimming the delicate skin underneath.

“It was an ex-boyfriend’s.” You yelped when Miguel tore into the hoodie immediately, ripping apart the seams with ease. You weren't wearing a t-shirt underneath, leaving you bare above the waist.

“Not important then.” He muttered, tossing the thick shreds of fabric aside in favor of touching your bare skin. He noted your eyes, how blown your pupils were at his actions. You were cold, nipples pebbling and goosebumps forming over your arms. Miguel cooed, his thumbs reaching out to rub the sensitive nubs on your chest, tugging them between his fingers. Your head fell back against the wall, a mewl escaping you.

“Miguel,” you moaned, arching your body into his skillful hands. He brought you flushed against him, pressing his face into your neck and licking a stripe up to your ear.

“¿Qué pasó, hermosa? I barely touched you,” Miguel chuckled, lifting you up in his arms with ease and walking to your bedroom. He threw you on your bed, and within seconds, your sweats were pulled down with your panties, hastily tossed to the side.

He observed you like a beast on the hunt, eyes trained on your glistening cunt. There it was, the source of his misfortunes for all those months, weeping and swollen with arousal, just waiting to be fucked. His mouth watered, watching you slowly swirl your fingers between your folds, coating two digits with your slick before presenting them to him.

“Wanna taste?”

He saw how your juices clung to your fingers like glossy webs when you wiggled them toward him. He kneeled in front of you, gripping your wrist in his hand and lapping at your essence, plunging your fingers into his mouth. He moaned in relief as if tasting you was the cure to every issue he'd encountered.

You gasped, mouth slightly ajar as you watched him. It was so obscene how this man took pleasure from your taste alone, coating your fingers entirely in his spit. You whined, the sensation of his tongue causing your cunt to flutter, desperate to be filled.

“Miguel,” you whined, “get rid of the suit.” He chuckled over your fingers, letting you feel the tip of his fang over the soft pads before releasing them with a gentle pop. He stood to his full height, dwarfing you, glowing in that suit of his. Slowly, the tech that held his suit together scurried down the length of his body like falling stars until he was completely nude. His cock sprung forward, finally released from its prison, standing large and proud.

“Oh my god,” Miguel heard you mutter, saw how your eyes were trained on the angry red tip, shining with precome. His chest puffed with pride. You licked your lips, mind already set on the task you'd given yourself. You moaned, desperate for a taste of him.

He didn't give you much time to react, surging forward to place a hand around your delicate throat, putting the slightest bit of pressure before pushing you down flat.

"Next time. I need to taste you." His eyes were glowing, burning red in the dim lighting of your bedroom. He knelt again, grabbing your hips firmly and pulling you roughly toward the edge of the bed before devouring your cunt like a starved man.

"Shit," you cried, hands immediately tugging on his hair as you threw your head back, "M-Miguel." He was insatiable, tongue swirling around your clit several times before lapping at your soaked folds, moaning at the tangy taste.

"Que rico," he muttered to himself, the vibrations of his voice over your cunt causing you to cry out. He continued his assault, dipping his tongue into your hole, a testament of what was to come. Then, without warning, he plunged his middle finger inside, immediately hitting something that made you see stars. You choked and heaved, pulling at his hair as he fucked you with his thick finger while sucking on your clit.

"Fuuuck, Miguel, I-I think I'm—" you threw your head back, eyes rolling as you came, gushing all over Miguel's mouth and hand. You trembled, almost sobbing when he hadn't let up, feasting on your juices as his finger continued to thrust into you.

"M-Miguel, I can't," you whined, your hands fighting to lift his head away from your aching cunt, but he ignored you, too drunk on your taste to stop. He carefully added a second finger, easily finding a rhythm to thrust into you. The stretch had you gasping for air, thighs trembling on either side of his head. If two fingers were too much for you then his cock would surely be a challenge.

Miguel's eyes were closed, tongue hungrily lapping at the wetness you produced, and within seconds had you falling apart with a wicked moan. Your cunt squeezed his two fingers when you came again, coating his hand and chin with your slick. You sobbed, begging him to stop, and he did, placing a wet kiss on each of your inner thighs before carefully pulling his fingers out.

"Look at me, hermosa." You hiccupped, craning your neck to look at Miguel with blurry eyes. He already had his red gaze pinned on you, and when he had your attention he placed his cum coated fingers into his mouth, humming in approval at the taste.

You were mesmerized, not even fucked by his cock yet but somehow already drunk on the anticipation. You whimpered, watching him lap up the last of your juices on his fingers.

"M-miguel?"

"You taste so fucking good," he growled with a shake of his head, pushing his face into your pulsating cunt one more time to breathe in your intoxicating scent. His hot breath over your pussy made your toes curl, sighing in contentment when he placed a quick kiss on your swollen clit.

Miguel climbed on the bed, caging your hips with his muscular thighs. His cock slid against your folds, your slick already lubricating him. You were still shaking, your hands now finding purchase on his biceps.

"¿Estás bien, amor?" He asked, leaning down to pepper kisses over your tear stained face. He was getting sappy, he knew. He couldn't help it, not with the way you came so pretty for him.

"Mhm," you sighed, letting him arrange your trembling legs over his hips, his cock pressing more firmly into your aching wet core.

"Good." He spit on his hand and ran it over his stiff shaft a few times before pushing your thighs up so that your knees touched your shoulders, effectively folding you in half. He lined up the head, ready to push in, but stopped when he heard you whimper.

"It's been a while, Miguel," you explained with wet eyes, "I haven't...in a while a-and you're so big—"

"It's okay, I know you can take me, hm?" Miguel brushed a few damp strands away from your sweaty face. He leaned down to kiss you, and he knew you could taste yourself on his lips. It made his cock twitch over you, and with no further delay he notched the head of his cock into your hole, slowly pushing in.

You moaned, eyebrows knitting at the stretch of him. He panted, pushing inch by devastating inch, all the while watching your face for any signs. You were falling apart, eyes screwed shut and nails digging into the meat of his arms.

"I can't," you choked, your hips fighting against the offending pain, but Miguel was quick in securing you in place, continuing to spear you with his cock, "M-Miguel, y-your too big, it's too much!"

"Shhh, hermosa, si puedes," Miguel closed his eyes for a moment, relishing in the way your cunt fluttered over him, fighting to take him in, "look how good you're doing for me, mm, así mismo."

He pushed deeper, swallowing your cries with a kiss as he bottomed out, his balls pressing nicely against your ass.

"¿Ves? " He cooed, bumping his nose against yours as you whimpered, "I told you, you could do it." He chuckled at your glare, kissing you again before thrusting experimentally into you.

You moaned, tossing your head back, exposing your throat. You felt full to the brim, completely stuffed. Miguel wasted no time surging forward to lick and nip at your neck as he moved above. Each thrust shook your bed, the springs of your mattress coming to life as Miguel fucked you deeper. Your pussy was drenched, soaking his cock as he glided in and out of you effortlessly. The stretch burned but it was delicious, and Miguel knew you were cock drunk when your mouth fell open, tears running down your cheeks.

"¿Así te gusta, hermosa?" Miguel moaned, his breath fanning over your skin as he pounded deeply into you. His cock reached something within you that had a sob ripping from your throat.

"Oh my God," you whined, feeling the constant slap, slap, slap of his balls against your ass, "Fuuuck."

"That's the spot?" He heaved, his fangs glistening with saliva, "That's where you want it?" He continued his relentless pace, hitting that spot with precision over and over again. The sounds of your squelching pussy made him feral, slamming into you until you screamed, watching you fall apart before his eyes.

You came hard, gushing all over his cock, vision blurry and head in the clouds. Miguel helped you ride your high until you were nothing more than a quivering mess below him, sobbing as he continued to thrust before emptying his load inside you.

He grunted, head tossed back as he pressed his hips tightly against you, filling you up with everything he had.

"Fuck," he groaned, pausing to give himself a moment to breathe before slowly fucking his cum into you. It was too much, leaking out of your hole and over his cock, soaking into the sheets below. "Even better than I imagined." He muttered, shifting to pepper kisses all over your face again. You sighed in content, feeling comfortable in the way his cock was still nestled in you.

"¿Estás bien, muñeca?" Miguel asked, dropping his forehead against yours. He still had you folded in half, his large arms on either side of you. You nodded with a sigh, turning your head to place a chaste kiss on the inside of his wrist.

"Good," he grinned, gently snapping his hips against your ass, letting more of his spend leak from your hole, "cuz I'm not done with you yet."

#spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction

27K notes · View notes

hysteria-things · 3 months

Note

do a fanfic with leg humping, i beg you, ON MY KNEES 🙏🙏🙏 and with hand kink😜 i don’t care about the back story, i don’t care if it’s matt or chris just do it please 😞

RESTART

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!matt x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you couldn’t care about the movie playing, and matt has an idea to keep you occupied. however, you’re not prepared for the punishment when you don’t listen.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY SMUT, swearing, thigh riding, hand kink, edging, overstimulation, degradation, spanking, AFTERCARE

SAFE WORD IS MENTIONED BUT NOT USED!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,021

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this is kind of intense??? but i like it??? is that crazy???

sorry for no post yesterday. i’ve been having a not so good week and was exhausted/unmotivated when i got home :(

BUT enjoy reading anon! this one was a little hard, i hope i did okay :)

you’ve always been fascinated by your boyfriend’s hands. how much bigger they are than yours, how his rings fit perfectly on his fingers; it’s no coincidence that he wears them on only his pointer and pinky.

the both of you sit on the couch. you guys just started watching a movie, but you couldn’t care less about it.

you wished matt’s hands were roaming your body right now, possibly holding your throat as he rails into you. maybe even—

“are you even watching?” he says, snapping you out of your x-rated thoughts.

“yeah.” you lie.

he can tell in an instant that you’re bullshitting him. “you know i don’t like liars.”

“but—”

“get up and strip.”

you blink at him before getting up, slowly taking off your layers until you’re fully nude. he puts his foot on the coffee table across from where he’s seated.

“sit on my thigh.” he smirks. “and ride it.”

you stare blankly at him, wondering where this burst of confidence came from. however, you’re turned on nonetheless.

he chuckles. “i could read you like a book, y/n. you think i don’t know you were thinking about me fucking you right now?”

you blush and he continues. “i want to watch the movie. it’s either my thigh or nothing, sweetheart.”

you walk over hesitantly to straddle his thigh. you feel so exposed since he still has his clothes on.

his veiny hands caress your sides as you start to rock your hips. you can’t help but to hold them, the warmth feeling nice on your cold ones.

matt’s chin rests on your shoulder so he can still watch the movie in front of him. you moan and shudder when you feel the fabric on his jeans hit the right spot on your clit.

the pressure feels so good, your moans growing louder each time you roll your hips.

he slaps your ass, making you yelp and jolt. “shh.” he shushes. “i can’t hear what they’re saying.”

you whine in protest but nod anyway. the voices on the TV are muffled for you. the only focus is you getting off on your boyfriend’s thigh. you’re so needy and can’t help but look pathetic because of it.

“matt.” you whisper in your ear, the warm feeling in your stomach starting to build. “i-i’m gonna cum.”

“no.” he starts. “hold it until the movie’s done. the movie you wanted to watch in the first place.

“please ma—”

he slaps your ass again to shut you up. you moan loudly at the hit; enjoying it.

your hips get faster and start to tense. there’s no way you can hold it for that long.

“n-no matt y-you don’t understand,” you whine, feeling your cum start to drip down his leg.

“it’s… too late.” you pant, slowing down your hips until you stop. he tuts, taking the remote that’s next to him and pressing the replay button on the TV. he grabs your throat with those goddamn hands, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“i will restart this movie every time you cum without my permission, you understand me?”

matt had to restart the movie three times. every time you whimper an ‘i’m sorry’ into his ear, but it does nothing for him.

you’re sweating and overstimulated, and your pussy is swollen because of it. the inside of your thighs and his pants are soaked with your fluids, even the couch is messy. one of your buttcheeks are red and numb from the numerous times he spanked it.

you moan softly, your brain feeling fuzzy. you grind into his thigh still, but you start to become weak.

he takes the two fingers with no rings on them and shoves them into your mouth without warning. you gag at how deep they went.

“quiet. i want to hear,” he demands again.

you suck on his fingers and roll your eyes back. tear streaks stain your cheeks from the number of times you cried from pleasure.

“matt.” you muffle around his fingers. “it hurts.”

“that doesn’t sound like the safe word, love,” he says as he kisses your cheek.

he’s not wrong. yeah, it hurts, but it hurts too fucking good. you love being under matt’s control, even though something as intense as this is rare.

you start to slobber over his fingers. the feeling comes back, and you're surprised you have an orgasm left. you dig harder into his thigh and let out a sob.

“shh, it’s okay.” he soothes. “there’s only a few minutes left. you can hold it, yeah?”

your vision starts to fade, and matt removes his fingers from your mouth. you can’t moan anymore; only pant and whimper.

you’re not the only one that’s in pleasurable pain. matt’s been hard as fuck since this started, but right now he wants it all about you. not him.

the end credits start to play, and you sigh with relief. your last orgasm immediately washes over you. he wraps his arms around you as you shake uncontrollably in his grasp. “there you go.” he says as you cum for the fourth time on his thigh.

you collapse on top of his chest, ‘thank you’ leaving your lips over and over again.

“come on,” he says, swiftly picking you up and walking to the bathroom.

he runs a hot bath and gently places you in it. he takes some water to wash the tears away on your face.

matt whispers praises to you as he washes your hair. you stare at his face through tired eyes, admiring how he always takes care of you no matter what.

the way he moves his hands around your body to clean you up rubs you the right way.

after the bath, he carries you in a towel and lays you down softly on your shared bed. he goes over to the dresser and grabs a matching pajama set.

he carefully dresses you and puts you under the covers. he tucks you in, kissing your cheek when he realizes you fell asleep.

“goodnight, my beautiful girl,” he whispers in your ear, kissing you one last time.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests!

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teethrotter · 2 years

Text

panic

#this is so dumb but despite every awful thing happening in my life at the moment #possibly one of my most significant stressors for over a week has been a chem exam that i have tomorrow #like. i don't know fucking anything. and i didn't finish even a fraction of what i was supposed to do for it today #so i'm hauling ass in the morning and getting to the bus stop like an hour earlier than usual #i already have to get up at 05:00 3 days / week just to catch the bus #it is almost impossible to make myself function academically anymore and i am just terrified #i am a straight a student and my entire life i have based my worth off of my grades #i know it's bullshit but i can't force myself to think any other way #i am so fucking scared and stressed and suicidal #obviously my fucking chem exam isn't the only thing happening rn to make me like this #it's just the thing that i've been most preoccupied with #i used to be able to brute force myself to function and i still can to some degree but it's getting so much harder so quickly #i'm terrified and so exhausted all the time and have some sort of panic attack almost daily it's just #unbearable. i can't keep doing this #praying that it won't be as bad as i think it will but my god i am. so scared #apologies for rambling i don't want to be alive and haven't for a very long time #i am so miserable all the time

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personasintro · 8 months

Text

Mutual Help | #01

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.4k+

𝐚/𝐧: this bombass comeback wouldn't be as amazing and special if it weren't for @kithtaehyung who made the best new mh banner anyone could ever make!!! ryen, thank you bub so much for putting up with my indecisive ass and taking the time to make not only this banner but different versions before that! I truly appreciate it and I'm thankful you're a part of this!!

ogs know this one is reposted but I hope everyone will enjoy it whether they're rereading it or reading for the first time! lastly, thank you for the endless love and support, i love y'all ♡

𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢

The hallway looks exactly the same, which there isn't any reason why it should look different all of a sudden, but considering you haven't been in this building for the past few weeks just makes you want to notice the slightest change. But there is none. It still smells sterile with a little bit of sweetness which reminds you of cinnamon. You're not sure why, nor do you really dwell on it too much.

You could imagine your Thursday evening differently, which means laying down as soon as you come home and turn on Netflix, trying to spend at least twenty minutes finding a good show. That's been your routine for weeks now, but you're not complaining. It feels that void of loneliness in your smart one bedroom apartment.

Although, you can't help but feel nervous when you picture the message you got from Jimin.

'come to Jungkook's, he needs us'

He never explained anything further, nor replied to the tons of your messages or missed calls. You wouldn't be on the edge, if you've seen or heard from Jungkook. Apart from some occasional messages like 'what's up' or 'what were you doing today?', your communication went downhill. But you don't blame him or yourself for it. You were both busy and probably still are, to even hangout like you always used to.

It bothered you for some time, not hanging out with your best friend like you used to. But you've grown used to that small but painful fact that you don't have to see each other every day. Plus, after some time you've realized, you can still be best friends with someone without having to chat with them 24/7. Gratefulness is how you'd describe your feelings. Grateful that your friendship works, even though you don't get to spend your time with each other that often.

Your knuckles meet the wood of Jungkook's front door in a gentle manner, which is a complete opposite of your inside feelings as you've this weird feeling inside of you. The message Jimin sent you was weird and you haven't heard from anyone since then.

And when the door finally opens, you're glad you're met with Jimin himself as he stares at you with hopeful eyes and a breath of relief that escapes his plush lips. You rush inside, already taking off your shoes and jacket while you confusingly stare at your friend that looks more than relieved to see you.

"What the hell happened? You never texted me back." you tell him, or more like scold him rather than properly greet him.

"Ah, sorry," he cringes, pulling out his phone before he notices the bunch of messages and missed calls from you. "It's just—"

"This is bullshit."

The grumpy and raspy voice unintentionally cuts him off, booming inside of the apartment causing your ears to naturally perk up. Is it just you or his voice got deeper? You look at Jimin with a questioning gaze, who sees the confusion on your features as you hear Jungkook's grumpy and annoyed voice. Rather than explaining something to you, he sighs and with a quick cock of his head towards the living room, you both walk inside.

You're surprised when you see Taehyung there as well, opening a beer can before he pushes it into Jungkook's hands. Surprisingly, the mentioned guy is slouched on his beige couch, wearing one of his baggy shirts and loose sweatpants with his hair looking like he hasn't brushed them for days.

Taehyung's eyes meet yours as soon as you step in, noticing the mess around including two pizza boxes thrown on the floor and empty cans of coke and beer on the coffee table. "Oh, thank god!" Taehyung breathes out the same sigh of relief, causing you to greet him with a confused 'hello'.

Although, you don't wait for any reaction because your best friend finally acknowledges your presence in his home, head lazily turning in your direction as you walk up to him.

"Great," he mutters, almost rolling eyes at the sight of you. "Who called her?" he eyes the two of his best friends, scoffing before he takes a gulp of the beer that Taehyung handed him.

"What kind of reaction is that, asshole?" you react right away, frowning at your best friend that hasn't seen you for weeks and this is his first reaction.

"Don't mind him, please. He's just a little bit drunk right now." Jimin quickly jumps into an action, noticing your fireback and unappreciative tone that's aimed at none other than Jungkook himself.

He rolls his eyes at Jimin words, but doesn't say anything else before Taehyung watches you with cautious doe eyes. He sits in a chair, arm leaned against his knee as he anxiously bites his nails even though he tries to act casual. You don't buy it.

"What the fuck is going on?" you ask them, pointing towards Jungkook that looks like a truck just hit him.

Jimin opens his mouth, but Jungkook glares at him which ends up with him shutting it right away and when you look at Taehyung, he doesn't even spare you a glance.

"Which one of you called her?" Jungkook speaks up, eyeing the two of his friends as they point to each other causing you to snort. Cowards. "I'm fine. I don't see a reason why you make such a big deal out of this. I'm fine."

The fact that he had to repeat the same sentence twice, just proves that no — he's not fine. And before the wheels in your head start to work and roll, Jimin's voice speaks up in a clear, yet quick tempo.

"Kiko broke up with Jungkook."

The room goes silent, faint sounds coming out of the television are filling out the thick silence in the room as Jungkook freezes, not even glaring at his friend that apologetically shrugs at him.

One of the reasons why you haven't got to see your best friend that often is, that he simply found a girlfriend. Trying to combine his work, personal love life and you was already hard. But you get it. You're not mad or annoyed at him, because the two of you still kept in touch. It was just a matter of time until some of you found someone and naturally, there wouldn't be that much time to spend your days together. It was bound to happen and you knew Jungkook would be the first one to find someone.

He's your best friend, but you're not blind. He's one of the most handsome guys you've ever met, not just that but his personality is something that most girls would fall for. His attitude is pissy right now and now, you know the true reason behind it. But the Jungkook you know, is one of the most caring people you know. And not only that, but he's funny, intelligent and perfect at almost everything. He's the whole package and any girl would be lucky to snatch him.

And that girl, or perhaps you should say a woman, happened to be Kiko. A Japanese beauty that their mutual friend introduced them to one another. It clicked off immediately. Even you've noticed it when Jungkook Rain checked almost every plan you had together. He started to stare into his phone with all those puppy heart eyes whenever she texted him. At first, you found it annoying because it was just plain rude, watching him text her every five seconds instead of trying to hang out with you. But then, you just stopped caring and whenever you went silent, he'd just pushed his phone away and tried to gain your attention.

It was stupid, because you knew if you gave him attitude or silent treatment, he would just feel bad and tried to focus on you. Until the both of you stopped hanging out with each other that much.

"She did?" you mutter, staring at Jungkook who stares in front of him with a wiped out gaze. You've never seen him in this kind of state. "I'm sorry, Kook."

"Yeah, well, shit happens." he grumbles, clenching his jaw as he takes another gulp of beer that's securely clenched in his hand.

You've seen Jungkook having a couple of girlfriends, but you know that his relationship with Kiko was different. He wasn't just any girlfriend that he tried to get to know, she was someone that he completely fell for and couldn't stop talking about. He's in love. And even though he's being an ass to his friends right now, it's just his coping mechanism and you know that whatever Jimin and Taehyung has been doing, hasn't helped much. He plays tough right now, hiding his true feelings under this cold and uninterested facade but you know him better.

And when he keeps glancing at you before he quickly looks away, it's almost as if he can hear your exact thoughts.

"Well," you hastily speak, clapping your hands together as you lightly smile at everyone in the room. "You don't wanna date anyone whose name is Kiko." you try to joke, a laugh and snort erupting from Jimin and Taehyung who has obviously found your little joke funny.

Jungkook on the other hand, looks even more pissed off because he never looked at you with so much anger and annoyance as he's looking right now, causing you to squirm in your spot. "Real class, Y/N." he barks at you, causing you to slump in defeat before Jimin squeezes your shoulders in comfort.

"I brought you banana milk. I didn't know what happened, so I thought this would be a nice and quick save." you lightly tell him, sitting at the end of the couch, next to his sprawled legs but he doesn't move them away.

"Jeez, I'm not some fucking kid. Banana milk won't fix my broken heart." he scoffs, shaking his head while the three of you are even surprised that he just admitted that he has a broken heart. Well, clearly but since he's been putting up this tough act, it still comes as a shock. Judging by the look of Jimin's and Taehyung's face, they seem to think the same thing.

"I know that, Kook," you quietly tell him, hastily grabbing one of his ankles as you squeeze it in a manner to comfort him. He doesn't budge, that means something. "Is there anything we can do for you?" you ask him, not really sure if he's even going to answer that.

His brows furrow while he fumbles with his fingers, the slightest pout adoring his small lips as he thinks your question through. The three of you watch him with curious eyes, wondering what the hell is this guy thinking of. He looks at you, then at Jimin and Taehyung before he softly sighs.

"I mean... there's nothing you guys can do." he says softly, taking another gulp of beer that tastes like piss. Korean beer is just not good, and you're surprised that Jungkook even drinks it. But he never had any problem with any alcohol, that man can drink and eat anything.

There's nothing you can think of that could possibly help him out of his heartbreak. The only thing for you to do, is to be there for him. And if drinking a beer that tastes like piss is some kind of twisted way of helping him, you're in. So, you reach out and grab one of the unopened cans before you open it with a loud 'click', taking a gulp of it.

"What are you doing?" Jungkook sits up, staring at your scrunched nose and distaste written all over your face.

"Drinking with you." you shrug, taking another huge gulp of it. The more you drink it, the less it tastes awful.

"But you hate this beer." he reminds you, scowling at you and your nonstop gulping, hand twitching to get it away from you.

"I know," you shrug, grinning at him. "It doesn't taste that bad. Now come on," you nudge him with your leg, raising your can to him. "Cheers." you call out to him, ignoring his big doe eyes that stare at you with a slight confusion before he sighs.

"Cheers." he mutters, clicking his can against yours before the both of you take another gulp.

The two of you are completely unaware of your friends' faces that are washed with relief and knowing eyes as they stare at you and Jungkook. All it took was just to call you to save the day. Jungkook might not be in his greatest mood or show his appreciation for you to be there for him, but drinking without constant complaining and cursing is still a better result that Jimin and Taehyung managed to get.

"I've never thought I'd ever drink this much of this piss beer." you croak out, putting another empty can onto Jungkook's messy coffee table. You sit back, head falling onto his shoulder as you silently inhale his scent. It always reminded you of his fabric softener that smells like a baby, mixed with his cologne that is very faint on his clothes.

"How do you know what piss tastes like?" Jungkook asks, raising his brow at you while the corner of his lips twitches in amusement. "Do you wanna tell me about your weird kinks?" he cocks his head at you, causing you to groan as you hit his shoulder but it does nothing to him, he doesn't even budge.

A chuckle roars in the back of his throat, a first sound that can be considered as a positive emotion.

"It's not like that." you mutter, growing embarrassed at the thought of Jungkook thinking about your kinks. Not that you know about them that much. You might think there are some things you might like, but you never had anyone to try it with. How possibly could you know? But the idea of you having a piss kink, or whatever that's called, makes you want to gag. Maybe it's the beer or just a single thought of it, who knows.

Jimin and Taehyung already left, once they saw Jungkook loosening up, they took that chance to go home and leave the two of you alone. Not even once he talked about his heartbreak, you silently watched a TV show that Jungkook turned on whilst drinking a beer and munching on some crackers that Taehyung handed you before they left.

Glancing at Jungkook, his face is illuminated from the screen whilst he's watching a TV show with slightly furrowed brows. And when it finally stops, he sighs and grabs the remote to browse through some other movies and TV shows. He keeps browsing through them for a couple of minutes, muttering a pair of curses when he can't find anything he likes. You turn on the lamp in the very corner of his living room, causing him to frown even more from the sudden light.

You sit next to him, staring at him as he sighs and looks back at you. "What?" he asks unbothered, the remote still clutched in his hand.

"I'm sorry, Kook," you tell him silently, reaching for his shoulder which you squeeze in comfort, like you previously did with his ankle. "I know that you loved her."

And you see his facade crack, when he sucks his bottom lip as he quickly looks away from you to blink away the tears that are threatening to fall. You've never seen him this vulnerable.

"Love," he mutters, causing you to let out a confused 'huh?' in response. "Not loved her, but love. I still love her." he corrects you.

"Why did she break up with you? You don't have to tell me if you don't feel comfortable enough, but you guys seemed so close together."

It doesn't make any sense. Jungkook kept talking about her even through your messages, and you could practically feel the happiness radiating from his single messages. His whole Instagram is filled with their pictures, or just single shots of Kiko that Jungkook has taken and captioned with a single heart emoji. You've never seen him being so in love before. That's when you've realized that Kiko is different from any other women that Jungkook was seeing.

You don't push him into answering, the last thing you want for him is to get upset with you. But you can't keep walking around eggshells for this whole night.

"Apparently, she just wants some time for herself. She wants to explore other things, whatever the fuck that means." he bitterly chuckles, eyes filled with anger but you know it's just hidden hurt.

"Maybe you'll find someone else, Kook. You're still young."

Scoffing, he shakes his head. "She's the love of my life. I really doubt there's someone else for me. I was about to ask her to move in with me."

Shit, he's really serious about her.

"You did?"

He nods, biting onto his lower lip before he lets it go, fumbling his eyes before he sighs in defeat. "I love her." he whispers, his voice sounding so vulnerable that it makes your heart clench.

You go straight into hugging him, enveloping his huge body to yours as he starts to cry into your chest. For the first time, he finally breaks in front of someone else rather than himself. He clutches to your body, tears wetting your shirt but you don't mind it, grabbing him even tighter. He cries, something he doesn't usually do in front of everyone. You realize how he kept holding himself in front of Taehyung and Jimin when all he wanted was to cry it out.

"It's okay, you're going to be okay." you tell him, cheeks pressed against his hair that got super long since you've last seen him.

He sniffles, wiping his eyes before he slightly pulls away. "It happened two weeks ago and I'm still such a fucking mess." he scoffs at himself.

"Two weeks ago?" you exclaim, surprised by the new information. "It happened two weeks ago and I know just... now?"

He glares at you and you quickly shut your mouth. "Not everything is about you, Y/N." he reminds you.

Rolling your eyes, you're about to curse at him for being so rude but then you remember his state. He's just hurt and in a way, he's right. "No, that's not what I meant. I just... I'm surprised that you didn't tell me sooner. If it weren't for Jimin, I don't think I'd be here right now." you explain, thinking about all possibilities that could happen.

"I was going to," he mutters, reaching for a bottle of water instead as he takes a few gulps. "But I needed some time to myself. I didn't want anyone to see me like this." he points out towards his slightly puffed eyes.

You just wished he'd tell you sooner. But you don't tell him that. It's not selfish to think that, because you just wanted to be there for him sooner. Nobody should go through such a heartbreak alone. Not when he has you and other two friends willing to be there for him.

"You know that you can tell me anything, right? I'm always here for you." you remind him, flushed cheeks when you see his eyes already set on you.

The friendship between you and Jungkook is mostly surrounded with you teasing each other and in a way, he's like an older brother to you. You don't get all sentimental with each other, even though you're always there for one another. It's an unspoken rule and natural feeling that your friendship has.

"I know," he says softly, giving you the best little smile he can muster. "And I'm so grateful for that. I know I was acting like an asshole and I'm sorry, I just... I'm really happy that you're here."

You don't get to hear such words often, especially coming out of Jungkook's mouth, but that's why you're even more pleased to hear them.

You smile back at him, silently thanking him and also saying that it's okay and you get it. It's quiet for a moment. Jungkook fumbles with his fingers as you silently watch him, noticing a few new tattoos that decorate his honey skin.

"Y/N?" he asks suddenly, causing you to hum in return. " You know when you asked me, if there's something you could do for me?"

"Oh, boy. What is it this time?" you joke, causing him to silently chuckle under his breath.

What could he possibly want to know? The last time he wanted something from you, was to clean his whole apartment because he twisted his ankle. But whatever that comes out of his mouth next, never occurred to you before.

"Can you pretend to be my girlfriend?"

#networkbangtan #ksmutclub #ficswithluv #btswritingcafe #bts smut #jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts angst #bts au #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #mutual help

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lilasturns · 4 months

Text

GOOD GIRL.

you finally get a taste of what it's like to be a 'bad girl', all thanks to chris sturniolo.

warnings: fingering, stoner!chris, high school au, driving intoxicated (pls dont do this ever?), NOT EDITED.

Nothing was going to stop you from your plans. School, study, work, and home was on repeat, 7 days a week.

Ever since you started High School, you decided it was time to put all the bullshit aside and focus on what really mattered -- college.

That was your end goal. Your 'self-actualization' as you called it. Nothing was going to get in your way from being successful.

Although you were a busy girl every week, it didn't stop you from having a social life. You knew how to balance it. Hanging out with your friends wasn't something you did much, but you still had them, which was most important, right?

Your friends were finally able to convince you to go to at least one party in your high school career.

You were standing alone in Nate Doe's kitchen, drinking a Coke out of a red solo cup.

"What's in that?" You heard a low-pitched voice from behind you ask, feeling a hand on your shoulder. Your body tensed as an unknown individual had placed a hand on your shoulder. You weren't that welcoming, were you?

"It's a coke." You answered non-chalantly, bringing it up to your lips to take another sip.

"I hate coke." The boy responded, taking his hand off your shoulder. He walked around to the opposite side of the kitchen you were in, playing with a lighter in his hand.

The flickering blue and red lights were giving you a massive headache, and the blasting music ramped through your body so rapidly you thought you might have a heart attack at any moment.

You stared at the boy across from you, studying his features. Sure, you knew who the triplets were, but you didn't know much about them. You could only assume this was Chris, from the lighter he held in his hand.

"Never seen you at one of these." He sighed.

"Friends wanted me to come." You explained.

"Want me to give you something better to drink?" He asked and walked closer to you. "Who knows if you'll ever come to one of these parties again, right?"

He stood next to you with his head tilted, his eyes squinting at you. His tongue ran over his teeth, causing his cheekbones to thin out, showing you his chiseled jaw.

"I don't drink." You said, still facing front, away from him.

"You don't have to drink," he chuckled, "I got something else with me."

You placed down your cup, side-eyeing him. He continued to stare at you, and you could see him studying your own features before you spoke up again:

"Why do you want me to do something so bad?" You asked.

"Maybe I'm just trying to help you have fun." He defended, his hand playing with the ends of your hair. "Come on, leave with me, you wanna have some fun?"

You turned to look at him, his hand moving to cup your cheek in response. "What'd ya say, hm?" You nod, feeling drawn in by his charm.

"Good girl."

So you were here, in the passenger seat of Chris Sturniolo's car, him teaching you how to smoke a blunt.

You release the last bit of smoke of your mouth, swallowing deeply, trying not to cough. He chuckles at your queasy looking face, patting you on the shoulder.

"Just cough." He commands, and you let out a loud cough, turning away from him and covering your mouth with your arm.

You could feel his eyes on you once again, causing you to turn and look at him.

"Come here." He said, tilting his head to the side. Your eyebrows furrow and your eyes wander, unsure of what he meant.

"Come sit on my lap." He beckoned and your eyes widen, looking at him up and down as he leaned back in the drivers seat. You lifted your right leg over the console, placing it on the outside of his left, followed by your left leg lifting over the console and placing it on the outside of his right.

He placed a hand on your lower back, right above your ass. You squirmed, not expecting him to touch you.

"You've never been touched before, huh?" He questions, his hand traveling down to your ass, squeezing it. You shake your head, your hands pressed against his thighs.

"You want me to touch you?" He asks. "All you gotta do is just say the word."

You stared into his eyes, pondering. Were you really about to let Chris Sturniolo do this? You wanted this, though. Deep know you knew you did.

"Yes." You agreed, your voice low. You took in a gulp, still making eye contact with Chris.

“Good girl,” he praises, running up to your waist. “Such a good girl.”

His other handle cups your cheek, with his thumb running over your jawline. You bite your lip in anticipation, tilting your head a bit.

He leans his head up to kiss you, his soft, pink lip slowly gliding against yours. He kissed you slowly, his tongue brushing against the front of your lips ever so gently.

You parted your lips, letting his tongue enter your mouth. He pulls you down so that you're basically laying on his chest. His hands move down to your waist, squeezing your hips. You rest your hand on his chest and the other on his face.

He begins to move quicker, his kissing becoming sloppier and messier. His hands travel lower, grasping your ass, causing you to shiver. You move your hips against his, and he lets out a groan in response.

His hand goes right under your skirt, his index finger running right over your clit and down to your folds. You pull away from the kiss, the new feeling making you tense.

"You're dripping, baby, you feel that?" He asks, running a hand up from your clit and down to your folds, then back up again.

You whimper, nodding, as you can feel your arousal collecting in your panties. He smirks, biting his lip.

"It's okay," he reassures, "I'm gonna help you."

You nod as he moves your panties aside with one hand. His fingers find your clit, your mouth dropping at the pleasure you experience from just his simple touch.

"Have you ever touched yourself before, hm?" He asks, rubbing light circles over your clit.

You shake your head. It's not a complete lie. You've tried, but you've just never been in the mood to do it. But right now, you sure are.

The feeling that you have is indescribable. You feel desperate, as if you are yearning to be touched. You can feel yourself practically dripping, your body feeling warmer and warmer by the second.

Chris fingers start to move faster, circling your clit even quicker. You throw your head back, letting out a light moan. His fingers dip down to your folds as he runs his index finger through, teasing your hole.

"Please, Chris." You beg, gripping onto his white plain t-shirt, staring at him with pleading eyes.

"You don't have to beg, okay?" He responds softly, entering his finger inside you, slowly.

Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling, gripping harder on the front of his shirt. He uses his middle finger only, moving in and out easily, before entering in his ring finger.

You grind your hips down on his fingers, basically riding them. The way you're feeling is like none other. Your feel filled just by his veiny fingers, and you can't help but wonder what his dick must feel like.

He moves faster, his fingers pumping in and out of you. Your moans keep dropping, incapable of keeping them in. His thumb reaches to your clit and he rubs small circles on it, and let out a loud whine, as the pleasure becomes more intense than it was a moment before.

You can feel a knot start to form in your stomach and you lay on his chest, moaning, and your eyes closed completely shut.

"You need'a cum, yeah?" He whispers down to you, his other hand petting your hair. "Tell me how you feel."

"I-I..feels like, good." You respond, unable to get words out as he moves his fingers and thumb, trying to make you come.

"I know, baby," he soothes, "just let it go."

As if on command, you can feel yourself 'let go', as if you released the knot if your stomach. The pleasure feels too much, so you hop off his lap, his fingers pulling out of you. You groan from the loss of contact with your legs lightly shaking as you sit back in the passenger seat.

He looks at you with a smirk on his face,

"God, I can't want to ruin you."

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sunsetsturniolos · 3 months

Note

Oneshot: Matt confronting you after you start getting quiet. You’ve been getting insecure and you feel like you’re holding him back. This hot ass man is sweet as fuck tho!!!

talk to me - matt sturniolo x fem reader

a/n: took my own little twist on this :) sorry is there are any mistakes!

warnings: mentions of toxic childhood, not eating, hate comments, insecurities. if you are going through any of this please talk to someone! my inbox is always open if you need some to rant to 💞

as always my inbox is open for requests, but other than that, enjoy!

lots of love,

m💌💌💌

it had been about 2 weeks since you and the triplets have done anything together. every time they asked you to do something that involved getting ready nicely you shut them down. this wasn’t like you, normally you were a very bubbly and happy person who was always jumping at opportunities to do something fun, so you knew they were starting to get suspicious but you just brushed it off and moved on.

lately you’ve been feeling very insecure with yourself. you grew up in a toxic environment, which lead to you always having the thought in the back of your head that you weren’t good enough. recently, you’d been in some of the triplets videos, and the hate had been adding to this. you’d stopped eating as much, cutting down to a few snacks a day, maybe a whole meal if you were lucky. it’d been like this for a while, and while you hated doing this to yourself, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop.

a few days had passed and matt was starting to get worried. he knew you were struggling at the moment but he didn’t realise it was this bad. the triplets ordered canes for dinner last night, and while matt thought you ate your meal and didn’t finish because your stomach was hurting, he was wrong. he found your entire meal in the bin the next morning and suddenly everything made sense. he’s been trying to muster up the words and courage of what to say to you. he knew he had to do something, he couldn’t bare to see his beautiful girl going through this. he waited a while before finally going to your guys’ shared bedroom, already finding you sat on the bed, phone in hand. you had bags under your eyes. you’d lost a lot of weight, you weren’t yourself anymore.

“hey baby, can we talk?” matt stuttered,

“uh, yeah of course,” you hesitantly replied, these kind of conversations always made you nervous. “uhm i don’t really know how to start this, but i saw all of your food from last night in the trash, i thought you ate some of it?” matt asked.

shit. you thought.

“oh eh i just wasn’t that hungry thats all.” you quickly replied, hoping to end the conversation.

matt knew that was all bullshit.

“love, you and i both know that isn’t true,” he spoke.

oh you were screwed.

“talk to me baby, whats going on?” he carried on, adding a comforting hand to your thigh, you tensed under his touch.

tears started to well up in your eyes, you knew you couldn’t keep it in anymore, you had to tell him. “i’ve just been feeling a bit insecure recently, i mean you’ve seen the comments right? everyone thinks i’m fat!” you’d broken down by now. matt’s face was drained with guilt. “baby those comments don’t mean anything! your the most gorgeous girl i know! they’re just jealous, mean 12 year olds! please don’t let them affect you. everyone loves you so much, nick loves you, chris loves you, and i love you more than anything! this isn’t healthy, you need to eat.” matt was right. “i know, i just didn’t know what to do.” it was a lame excuse and you knew it, but you had nothing else to say. “please talk to me next time, you know i’m always here for you,” he reassured, you lazily nodded.

“i love you matt.” “i love you more baby, why don’t we go get ice cream from down the street, your favourite?” matt smiled. “that sounds great honey, thank you.” you blushed.

matt quickly kissed you forehead and grabbed his keys from the dresser. he held his hand out for you as you got up and interlocked fingers, making your way to the car.

what would you do without this boy.

tags: @sturnioloslurps @lacysturniolo @lewisroscoelove @55sturn @freshloveforthefit @lanai3mother

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets

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bakubunny · 5 months

Text

f!reader | part 1 | it had been a week since toji was a total creep and overheard what you’d assumed was private, personal time, and the last thing he’d do was let it go. now he was making a point to get in your space. he’d touch you unnecessarily, make smart remarks. and it was irritating as hell, having to constantly push him away; it was hard enough to look him in the face or keep your cheeks from flushing. but seeing you flustered only seemed to egg him on, no matter how many times you’d told him to, “back the fuck off, toji.”

“i think you mean daddy, sweetheart,” he’d said this morning. if it weren’t for the fact that he looked twice your size and was clearly infinitely stronger than you, you’d probably deck the nasty old creep, but you knew better. at this point you’d considered finding a new place to live several times until you remembered that he was letting you live with him for almost nothing.

but now, as you stood at the front door, it took everything you had not to slam it shut when your boyfriend left. he was doing it again, accusing you of sleeping with your coworkers, his friends, your roommate. but you weren’t. tears welled in your eyes as you wondered why the hell you put up with his shit yet again when toji - in a rare moment of what seemed like kindness - asked that from behind you.

“why do you keep that piece a shit around?” he said.

you jumped at his voice, not having heard him as entered the room.

“doesn’t matter. i don’t fucking know anymore,” you replied. you tried to walk past him, but he was a wall in front of you. “move. please.”

aaaand of course, the snark was back.

“please, what, pretty girl?” his voice was low and smooth like honey as he spoke.

“cut the bullshit,” you said as your cheeks flared with heat.

toji leaned against the hallway entrance, unwilling to move.

“i said move.” your patience was already thin.

toji lifted your chin with that stupid fucking look that made you weak in the knees, the one you’d wanted to wipe off his face so badly all week. “gettin’ tired of your bitchy attitude, princess. don’t make me show you how to behave.”

you ignored the heated throb between your legs. “you’re such a fucking perv.”

he scoffed. “yeah, one that’s got you touchin’ yourself every fuckin’ night. beggin’ me to fuck you. cryin for daddy to come stuff your cunt til you’re too dumb to speak.”

your chest grew hot.

“c’mon, brat. two little words. what d’ya got to lose, some greasy twerp who’s sleepin’ around on ya?” he asked.

the words stung. you knew he was right.

your fists balled up as your face burned hotter still. “please, daddy.”

the grin on his face was almost sickening. ��tell daddy what you want,” he taunted.

a thought ran through your head. so much of you wanted to tell him to move so you could hide, sleep off the tears you were just put through. but toji was right.

what did you have to lose?

“fuck me.”

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

“shit, toji-” you whined.

a heavy, wet, plap-plap-plap filled the room as toji drove his thick, veiny cock into your cunt. he groaned hearing his name on your lips, so desperate and slurred. so much better than when you’d fucked yourself thinking of him.

“c’mon, baby. say my name, tell me who fucks you this good, huh?” he growled.

toji’s tongue ran up the side of your neck from behind. your fingers curled deeper into the sheets as a shiver ran down your back; he sucked and nibbled at tender spots along your neck, leaving a trail of marks behind. you moaned his name and cursed again. drool dribbled into the bed as the last syllable of his name was drawn out on your lips.

“tha’s a good girl,” he said before landing a hard strike on your ass.

“ah! daddyyy,” you cried out. your cunt fluttered in response.

you were so full of toji’s cock that you couldn’t think, could hardly breathe. you’d be thankful he had you on your stomach so you could lay there and take it, but he’s so thick and big that every thrust made you feel split wide open as your pussy clenched around him, your body limp.

toji leaned back. thick, calloused fingers gripped your hips harder. he looked down and watched your ass ripple in front of him from the impact of his thrust, mesmerized by the soft thickness of your thighs. he groaned seeing the cream you left on his cock the more he fucked you. you pushed your hips up a little to meet his thrust and adjust the angle, but toji stopped you.

“ah ah, babygirl, daddy’s gonna do all the work for ya,” he said. “fuck ya better than that useless prick ever did. ain’t that right?”

his massive hands slid up to your waist and pinned you to the bed as he adjusted the angle of his thrust, his cock dragging along your sweet spot and hitting a deep, tender point that had your legs trembling, brain melting into mush.

“yes, so much better. fuck, s’perfect, please don’ stop,” you moaned.

it was that moment when your phone lit up again, buzzing with a name you wanted to forget. your now ex-boyfriend. toji let out a frustrated grunt and grabbed your phone. he tossed it next to your face.

“answer the damn phone so he stops calling,” toji said.

he hadn’t even been gone twenty minutes and he’d called three times in the last five, probably to beg you to forgive him.

“n-no you g-gotta stop, toji, what are-”

toji scoffed. his thrusts softened as he answered the phone and put it on speaker. you made some semblance of an attempt to not sound like you were fucked out of your mind.

“babe? what do you need?”

toji’s hips rolled into yours as he slowly fucked you, dragging over your sweet spot in long strokes as you bit your knuckles. your eyes rolled and you swallowed a pant while you waited for a response.

“babyyy, princess, i’m so sorry. listen, i know you’d never-”

he was cut off by your cry and the helpless moans that followed as toji unexpectedly resumed his hard, heavy pace, slamming his hips into yours. the wet clapping of your pussy against him was loud enough that it had to be heard on the other line. without thinking you, you whined toji’s name, loud and clear with your phone still in sight.

“you filthy fucking bitch-”

toji took the call off speaker as your ex-boyfriend screamed, still connected but now much quieter as he brought the receiver closer. he leaned down and pulled a fistful of your hair. “s’not my name princess. try again.”

without being prompted, you did all the work for him.

“f-f-fuck, daddyyy, fuck, please make me cum, please, y’so fucking big, feels so good. need’a cum on your cock,” you babbled mindlessly.

toji laughed quietly. “ya hear that? that’s what a slut should sound like. bet ya never made her moan like this.”

rather than hang up, your ex only seemed to get angrier hearing toji’s voice. toji left the call running.

“i know babygirl, daddy’s so big, huh?” he said into your ear. “you can take it, sweetie. take it like a good girl f’me.”

your cunt fluttered and clenched around him like a vice. toji moaned, his lips connecting with your skin - your neck, shoulder, ear. “fuck, y’so - tight. gonna make me - cum.”

feeling toji swell and throb inside your walls with every thrust only pushed you that much closer as your legs shook hard. “m’ so c-close, shit, please don’t stop, daddy-”

“that’s it pretty girl. cum, make a mess on my fucking cock,” toji said.

your orgasm came crashing down over your body in waves as toji held you tighter and fucked you through it until the tight grip of your cunt pulled him over the edge.

“that’s my girl, mmm f-fuck, such a - good slut.”

toji came with a loud groan that rumbled on your back and made you shudder underneath him as ropes of hot cum spilled into your pussy, filling you to the brim.

at some point, the call had ended. toji grabbed your phone immediately after he came and opened up the front facing camera. he grabbed the bulk of your hair in one hand to pull your head back and held your phone in the other in front of you both, his body massive compared to yours underneath him.

“smile for the camera, princess,” he said.

he took a picture of your sweaty, fucked out face next to his and opened your messages. he pulled up the picture. “don’t come back.”

send.

if you’d like to be added to my tag list, let me know. ♡

gremlins: @callm3senpaii @arlerts-angel @dcsiremc @darkstarlight82 @bookcluberror @neon-gothicc @zazter-den @breadandbutter33 @i-literally-cant-with-this @rinalouu @stvrfir3 @r4td0lll @emmab3mma @aria-chikage @mhadabiandhawks4eva @yazminetrahan @doumadono @dreamcastgirl99 @maddietries @jazzafayesworld @karebear5118 @unofficialmuilover @cherriluvs35 @erensslut @ruu-https @hana-yuri @keiva1000 @katsul0vr @trickster-kat @ayeohoh-blog @dinomeow @flamgosstuff @mistressreaper @angelltheninth @anonymously-ominous @amberexe2 @hisconsistency @nanamisbigassschlong @223princess

#💖#this is so cringe #and probably ooc #don’t perceive me #toji is too nice here but idc I tried #tw daddy kink #toji smut #toji fushiguro #toji zenin #toji x reader #jjk toji #fushiguro toji #jjk #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #bakubunny #this might disappear bc I’m self conscious 🥴

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missmeinyourbones · 1 year

Text

a tiny little something for you babies! barely edited or proofread. probably not good but hey here we are. soft soft soft fluff with a pain in the ass satoru

…

“satoru?”

your lover replies eagerly, “yes, angel?”

“what’s the point of us having a king-sized bed if we aren’t actually utilizing its space?”

the question is rhetorical, he knows this, yet satoru still finds himself smiling as he opens his mouth to let it do what it does best and bullshit.

“why would i want to spread out in bed when i could be cuddling the love of my life all night?”

the bed is huge, far too big for two people—even including satoru and his ridiculously long limbs. a california king lined with satin sheets and pillows that feel like clouds. it feels like a dream, but the weight of satoru’s body thrown across your own reminds you that this is, in fact, a grounding reality.

he feels you sigh against his hair, “as romantic as you’re trying to make that seem, you’re on my side of the bed.”

his eyebrows furrow against your chest, and he almost laughs at how silly your statement sounds.

“there are no sides of the bed,” he easily replies, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

“what’s yours is mine baby,” he quips, before lifting his left hand to your face as proof, proudly showcasing the silver band decorating his ring finger. “i mean, that’s what we said in the vows, right?”

you swat his hand from your face and he chuckles, vibrating your entire body and making the room a whole lot warmer than it was a few moments ago.

“i said in sickness and in health,” you stubbornly remind him, “not on my side of the bed and yours.”

at the tiredness lacing your voice and the grumpy glare you shoot him through your words, satoru decides to throw you a bone. he detangles himself from you, removing his weight and shuffling a bit further from where he priorly laid on top of you.

now, he lays on his stomach, head turned to face your own. his large hand still makes itself comfortable flat across your soft stomach, his foot skimming your calf every now and then in an attempt to get comfortable.

“there,” he exhales after a moment of deliberate shuffling, “i’ll let you breathe.”

his statement is so ridiculous, it makes you laugh. genuinely exhale from your nose and bubble deep from your throat. because to the eye of any stranger, the position is still extremely close. satoru is practically nuzzling into your side, glued to your hip as half of his body now slowly works its way on top of you—which is better than whole, so you take it as a win.

you roll your eyes to hide your flush, “how kind of you.”

the moment is peaceful, but for only that—a moment. through the silence of your bedroom, satoru finds his voice once more.

“can you rub my back?”

he watches your face contort in the darkness as you scowl, “you’re insufferable.”

“please?” he whines like a child as his head pushes into your neck. “i’ll do yours after.”

you both know he won't, as he’ll be fast asleep in the next ten minutes, at most. you two do this same song and dance a few times a week: he asks you to run his back, you pretend to be annoyed by it, and then the gentle scratch of your nails on his skin lulls him to sleep rather quickly. it’s a routine, it feels like the two of you.

through soft sighs of pleasure and dozing consciousness, satoru admits through a lazy grin.

“this is my favorite part of the day, you know.”

“mhm,” you nod along at his blissed-out trance, “if i got to sprawl out and have my back rubbed til i fall asleep every night, i think it’d be my favorite part too.”

satoru smiles with his teeth and he laughs from his belly at your quick remark. “not because of all this,” he claims through a whine, “it is a huge bonus, though.”

he slightly shivers beneath your fingertips when you whisper in return, “then why?”

satoru places a kiss on your neck, and his lips feel softer than the luxury bed you drift off in.

“because i get to be with you,” he easily replies.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #gojo fic #gojo satoru fic

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wardenparker · 8 months

Text

Private Dick

Tim Rockford x plus size reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 11.8k Warnings: Plus size female reader with anxiety and internalized fatphobia/dysphoria. Tim is divorced with a shitty ex. Food/alcohol. Biting, fingering, shower sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, blink and you'll miss it vague reference to a pregnancy kink, brief mention of body shaming/bullying, a lot of talk about one character being vegan. SO MUCH FLUFF. Supportive love is a wonderful thing. Summary: Things are getting serious with your boyfriend, and that means that it's time for your anxiety to come out to play. But if there's one amazing thing about Tim, it's how much he cares. Notes: We just really needed some supportive fluff and hot smut this week, guys. I don't know what else to say ❤💛🧡

“So uh, there’s gonna be a get together at my mom’s house this weekend.” Tim fastens his watch and looks around for the toothpick that he had set down. He swears he has to lay off the pepper beef, the shit always gets trapped in his teeth, but every time they order from Happy Dumplings for the office, he gets the same thing. Standing up, he slides his boxers back up over his hips and looks over his shoulder. “I might have told her that I would bring you.”

"You told your mom about me?" You were halfway out of his bed and hunting around the floor of his bedroom for your panties when he said it and your head snaps up to look at him. God, the man really has a fantastic little ass.

“Well…yeah.” Tim frowns as he reaches for his pants. “She tried to set me up with some chick from her church, says I need a good woman to take care of me.” He snorts, remembering how his ex-wife used to say she would take care of him until the late nights and crushing pressure of the job had sent her into Tommy Litchfield’s bed. The divorce hadn’t been pretty and he had seen the kids four weeks out of the year. “Figured we had been…. seeing each other long enough, so I told her.”

It's been almost seven months since you and Tim started seeing each other, as he puts it, and you know the time right down to the day. Six months, three weeks, and one day. That was the best accidental first date of your life, and even though his job is demanding, you don't mind. You have hobbies and friends - your family and your own job - all to deal with. Time with him has been the icing on the proverbial cake. Hell, the first time he called you his girlfriend was barely a month ago and you had nearly giggled yourself silly, still in that first blush of happiness in your relationship. "So...what kind of get together is this?" Your panties had gotten hooked on his bedpost and you delicately pull them down with a smothered snort. "Should I be dressing up or are jeans okay?"

“Backyard party.” He tells you. “My brother-in-law pretends he can grill worth a shit, while he gets drunk off his ass.” Tim chuckles. “We eat burnt hamburgers that a dog wouldn’t touch while the kids play in the pool. Or just lounge around it and bitch now that they are older.”

"The kids...as in...your kids?" You know the rundown - the divorce, the custody negotiations, all the bullshit that he went through ten years ago. His ex-wife had been awarded primary custody of his then ten-year-old twins and she had barely allowed him to see them each year since. In fact, he had gotten to see his niece and nephew a hell of a lot more, and as such he has a pretty good relationship with them as adults.

“Yeah.” He shrugs into his shirt and starts to button it up. He has to go back to the office to go through witness statements. Barely getting enough time for lunch and a quickie, he hopes that you aren’t tired of him yet. “They are home for the weekend from college.”

"Okay." Your agreement is instant, although it's muffled somewhere inside your dress as you pull it back over your head. Both of your lunch breaks are almost over and you both have to get back to your offices. "Yeah. Count me in. Absolutely." Well...this is gonna be all you think about until the weekend...

“Good.” He flashes you a grin when your head pops through your dress and he reaches for the gun that’s on the nightstand to loop back through his belt. “Make sure you bring your bathing suit.”

"I don't—" Oh god...that's right...he mentioned a pool. A quiet panic wraps itself around your heart and squeezes your chest, and you duck down to find your shoes so he won't see it in your eyes. "Uh—right. Bathing suit. Got it." You'll just have to pretend you forgot when the day comes, that's all. No harm there. Just silly and forgetful old you.

“Fuck, we need a longer lunch break.” Tim grumbles, stepping over to zip up your dress and he kisses the back of your neck. “Want me to come over tonight if it’s not too late?”

"I always want you to come over," you admit softly. He really does have that effect on you - always reducing you to a puddle of a grown-ass-woman when he's sweet and affectionate like this. "Baked pasta for dinner? I can warm you up a plate if it's late when you get out." There are strains of real domesticity in your relationship and you like that it's stayed functional. You're separate people with separate lives, but they're starting to fuse together in little ways.

“I love your pasta.” He admits, reminding himself that you are far too good for him and despite the fact that he was often beaten up by his workload and the grim reality he deals with on a daily basis, you are becoming a safe haven for him. “But if it’s too late, I just want to slip into bed with you.” He admits. “Wrapping my arms around you and falling asleep.”

"Here..." Your purse is sitting on his bureau against the wall by the door, and you pad over to it to pull out your keys. It's a great big, giant gesture to make, but you unclip your house key from the ring and cross the room again to hold it out to him. "I think we're both adult enough to make this step, don't you?" There's a spare key in a little ceramic rock positioned specifically in your front garden that will make its way onto your key ring when you get home, but you want to make this step. You want to show Tim that you're serious about him – especially if he wants you to meet his family this weekend.

He frowns at the key as he looks down at it, noticing the logo of the manufacturer. “I’m going to change your locks this weekend too.” He decides with a grunt. “These locks are shit.”

Even as you’re rolling your eyes, you can’t help but smile. His way of showing affection isn’t always obvious, but you’ve learned to see the signs. “Just take the key, baby. Accept the gesture and take the key.”

“Here.” He digs into his pocket for his own key ring. There’s already a spare on his other key ring, so he quickly works the key off and hands it to you. “You know, for when you plan to meet me and maybe you need to pee. Or you want to come over and jump me in the middle of the night.” He jokes with a small wink.

“So…for all the time?” It’s less sexy and more awkwardly charming when you throw a wink back at him, and you reach up to give him a kiss. “Come on, sexy. We have jobs to get back to.”

He chuckles and pats your ass he you turn around. “I’ll give you a call, m’kay babe? Let you know about what time I’ll be over.”

"Sounds good." As much as Tim always insists he likes your ass, you always have to bite back a small frown when he pats it - there's just too much of it. Too much of you in general. Nope...don't go down that road right now...just check your reflection in the mirror to make sure your hair is okay and reapply your lipstick before you get back to the office. You'll be fine. "See you tonight, baby."

“Wouldn’t miss it.” He promises, watching you walk towards your car with a small grin on his face. While he had made mistakes, been married to his job for too many years, he was trying to do right by you. Wanting this new relationship to work. He’s crazy about you and he can’t wait for you to meet his family.

******

It's four excruciating days of worry until the day of the get-together at Tim's mother's house is finally here. He came over late last night after an interrogation and climbed into your bed to wrap himself around you and fuck both of you into exhaustion. To that end, he is still asleep upstairs while you putter in the kitchen. Coffee made, a pan of apple cobbler in the oven and whipped cream made from coconut cream because he had told you months ago that one of his daughters is vegan. There's a great big container of cold peanut noodles with all kinds of veggies in your fridge, too. All that nervous energy you have has gone into cooking, and you frown behind your coffee cup when you remind yourself that habits like this are why you hate looking at yourself in the mirror.

Tim has gotten used to waking up in your bed, probably far faster than he should have, but there is a connection with you that he hasn't felt in a long time. So it doesn't take long for his hand to seek out your soft, warm skin in his sleep. He had pulled your nightgown off of you and tossed it on the floor, both of you staying naked after he had fucked you. His frown precedes his eyes opening when he finds nothing but the cool spot on the bed where you should have been. Where did you go?

Heavy footsteps on the stairs are your giveaway, and you pour a cup of black coffee for Tim after turning down the volume on your music yet again. “Morning, handsome.”

"Why didn't you wake me?" He squints at the bright light, your curtains and blinds already opened. He could kiss you when you offer the coffee and he does, reaching for you to pull you close for a quick kiss to thank you.

“It was early.” Even though you shrug apologetically, the kiss is welcome and so is the place in his arms. “And you work hard, so you deserve the sleep.”

He hums and rubs your back softly. "Would rather spend time with you." He kisses your forehead and then pulls back, taking a sip of his coffee. "It smells good in here." Standing in your kitchen in his boxers should look odd, but it feels normal. He's been here enough that he knows the layout pretty well.

“I made my apple cobbler that you like…” you admit with a sheepish shrug of your shoulders. “But I made it vegan so your daughter can have some. And…my peanut noodle recipe is vegan anyway, so that’s in the fridge.” He had insisted that you didn’t need to make anything to bring to his mother’s house today but here you are, cooking up a storm.

It takes a moment for that to register and then he's sighing softly. "You are too good, you know that?" He asks, setting the coffee cup down again so he can pull you in for another kiss. "I – you are amazing and thoughtful." He knows he wouldn't have even thought about making something for Zara. Not because he's neglectful, but because he wouldn't even know where to begin making something vegan. "Everyone is going to love you."

“I hope so.” You’re not naive enough to think that his grown kids will automatically love their father’s girlfriend for any reason, and you’ve got just enough in the way of self-esteem issues to be worried. But you fully intend to make the best impression possible today.

"Do you want to shower?" He asks, smirking slightly. "I brought my overnight bag." He routinely keeps a bag in the trunk of his car in case of overnight cases and needing a change of clothes. "We can swing by my apartment to change into something more casual on the way."

"I keep telling you to put clothes in that overnight bag." The offer of a shower is tempting, though, and you glance at the timer on the oven. "The pan comes out of the oven in two minutes. Then I'm all yours."

"I do have clothes in the bag." He grumbles at you. "Work clothes." He watches as you move gracefully around your kitchen, admiring the way you work so efficiently. There's a small smile on your lips that he's pretty damn sure you aren't even aware that you have, but it makes you look even sexier in his eyes.

"Then we'll stop at your apartment on the way." His divide between work clothes and civilian clothes is stark, and you don't begrudge him that for one second. You certainly have two sections of your closet, and hardly ever wear work clothes on the weekends.

The timer goes off and he smiles, sipping his coffee as you rush over to pull the pan out. "Now it's my time." He growls playfully, setting down the cup and moving behind you as you set it down on the oven mitt.

Even as he hauls you backward you have the urge to remind him not to try to pick you up. Thick thighs and too much tummy and saggy arms that you hate are too much for his perpetually bad back and knees after decades on the force. "Come on, handsome," you laugh softly when he presses a kiss to the juncture of your neck and shoulder. "Let's go take that shower."

The softness of your ass against his groin makes his cock start to harden. Making him groan as he pushes it into you with a suggestive thrust. "Mhmmmm, we could get dirty first." He chuckles and nips at your pulse. "Or would you rather I fuck you in the shower?"

"I thought that's what showers are for?" Your shower, anyway. The cramped space in his apartment is no good for anything but being functional. Your house, however, has a large shower stall with excellent water pressure and a separate overlarge tub in the master bath. It had been half the reason for buying the house in the first place.

"That's what should happen in every shower we take." He groans, smirking into your skin before he pulls away to take your hand. "What do you think, baby?"

"I think you're a menace," you tease, lacing your fingers through his. "And I am absolutely here for it."

He laughs as he walks a step behind you up the stairs, still holding onto your hand and cannot resist slapping your ass with his other when you move up an extra step and it's in his face. "Fuck, I love your ass." He grunts.

Too big, your dysphoria supplies immediately, and you're glad he can't see your face as you climb the stairs together. You've never been skinny but it seems like since you got past your thirtieth birthday, everything got a little bigger out of protest. Everything except your tits. "I'm glad you like it," you manage, hoping you sound bright and teasing.

"Next time I have you on your stomach, I'm going to bite it." He threatens playfully, slapping it again right as you reach the top of the stairs. His cock twitches at the thought and he’s halfway toying with the idea of seeing if you would let him fuck your ass. It's not been talked about, and he's not just going to ask.

"Wouldn't be the first time you left teeth marks in me." That actually makes you laugh, remembering the first time your best friend had noticed the imprint of Tim's pearly whites when you had gone to her house after leaving his place. It was how she found out you were seeing someone, and you hadn't lived it down for weeks.

His growl catches in his throat and his hand tugs you back, spinning you around and pressing you up against the wall so he can kiss you again. This thing with you has progressed to the point where those three little words dance in his head when he is thinking of you. Still not quite voiced, they are there. Making him crave you even more when he has you nearby and he transfers that into the pressing of your lips together.

It's a sigh and a muffled groan from you, and your arms come up around his neck easily to encourage him to take whatever he wants. He's fucking irresistible and while you still can't quite grasp why he seems to want you, you're not going to question it and ruin the best adult relationship you've ever had. You're almost grateful to the idiot that broke into your office building and caused all of you to have to make statements to the police.

You had seemed to think that you needed to wear fancy lingerie when he first started sleeping with you, but the loose nightgowns you wear now are just as sexy and far easier to access. Thankful that you had taken his word and started wearing them to bed at night. His hands plunging underneath so he can cup your tit, his other hand twisting to slide into your panties as he groans into your mouth.

Tim's fingers are thick and nimble, and you never would have thought gun callouses could be sexy until you felt them slide through your pussy the first time. The hand fully encompassing one of your tits squeezes in earnest and you groan, hips already rocking against his other hand. "Fuck, Tim."

“That’s it, baby.” He grunts, kissing down your jaw and biting your ear. “Fucking love how wet you get. Pussy is gushing for me.”

Broad shoulders, broad chest, thick fingers, quick tongue, a smile that can leave you in a daze. How would you not be absolutely gushing for him? "Always," you sigh out, breath catching when he curls his fingers against your g-spot expertly. "Need you so bad, baby."

“Just what I want to hear.” His cock pulses against your soft belly and he wants nothing more than to lift you up and fuck you against this wall. Except you would squawk the entire time to put you down. Instead, he pumps his fingers diligently, eager to make you cum so he can fuck you in the shower.

The press of those thick digits inside of you has you gasping and clinging to him as he thrusts two fingers inside of you, adding a third to make you squeal and shake even harder. His eagerness makes perfect sense considering you weren't in bed beside him when he woke up, and you let your forehead drop forward to his bicep as you ride his fingers closer and closer to cumming right there in the hallway of your little house.

“You gonna cum for me baby?” He asks, always loving when you come apart for him. It’s a gorgeous sight. “Gonna soak my fingers? Squeeze them tight?”

"I—fuck—" Three fingers in your cunt and his thumb against your clit is too much all at once in the best way possible, and you're nodding against his arms as that tingling feeling at the base of your spine explodes and you start to shake apart. For a man who claims not to have dated a lot and have been rusty on intimacy when you had first gotten together, he never lost that muscle memory of how to be an amazing lover.

“So fuckin’ pretty when you cum.” He coos in your ear, feeling your cunt sucking his fingers in deep and starting to squeeze them. “Cum for me baby.”

Your fingernails bite into his arms as you grasp him tightly, entire body tensing completely before falling apart completely – flooding his hand with cum and slumping backward against the wall so you aren't too heavy on his arm. "Goddamn, baby..." you pant with a small giggle when you can breathe again, the orgasm exploding like shooting stars behind your still closed eyes.

“Fuck, I need to be inside you.” He feels the slick coating his fingers and wants to sink inside your quivering cunt. “Shower?”

“Shower.” It doesn’t matter that your legs are jelly, you can make it ten more feet into the bathroom. Your nightgown is pulled off of you before you hit the door, and his own boxers pushed down and kicked off. Leaving you in your panties as he opens the glass door to turn the shower on.

“Just what I needed today.” You’re only half teasing as you strip off your panties and toss them in the nearby laundry basket. “To be freshly fucked when I meet your family.”

He grunts, crowding you into the shower when you climb in and turning you around to face the wall. “You want to talk to my mama with a load of my cum in your pussy?” He grins, biting your neck again. “I can make that happen.”

“You can’t just say shit like that to me.” It earns him another moan and you back your ass up against his hips eagerly. “It’s gonna be all I can think about all day.”

“Good.” He chuckles roughly as his hands grip your hips and he presses closer. His cock folding up against his body and pressing into the cleft of your ass insistently. “It’s gonna be all I think about too. Imagining you dripping. Licking you clean.”

“Gonna have to slip away to your old room to get handsy.” You tease, knowing that his mother still lives in the house he grew up in.

“Fucked my first girl in that bed.” He grunts, silently acknowledging that it would be fitting that he fucks his last girl there too.

“Gonna make me another notch on that bedpost, Rockford?” You grin over your shoulder at him as his hands knead your ass. “I bet it was some homecoming queen. Or cheerleader. Do baseball games have cheerleaders?”

“Sometimes.” He smirks and shakes his head. Aware that you have some notion that he was some kind of stud when he was younger. “But maybe that new notch will be fun.” He poses as he rocks his hips back to take his cock in his hand.

"Getting you all riled up until you fuck me is always fun." All of Tim is thick. From his muscled limbs and shoulders that test the limits of store-bought shirts, all the way to his cock. The feeling of his head pushing your pussy open makes you moan, and you brace yourself against the wall of the shower for him to take as much as he wants from you. There's a certain amount of bliss involved in being intimate with Tim and you can usually push away your insecurities in favour of seeing - and feeling - just how much he enjoys touching you. Right now, the thoughts drop away and the only thing left is yes and more and oh god.

“Fuuuuuuuuuck.” He groans as he splits you in two. “I fucking love this pussy.” His breath is heavy in your ear and he rolls his hips until he is buried deep. “Perfect, baby, you’re fucking perfect.”

Perfect. Nobody had ever called you that before, and you had instinctively laughed the first time Tim had used the word. Since then you've tried to be a little kinder with yourself, and accept that just because you don't think you're perfect doesn't mean that he can't think so. "Just for you," you groan happily, reaching back to squeeze his hip. "Only for you, baby."

His lips trail over your skin and he can’t help but continue to kiss you. Loving how you clutch him deep inside your body and the softness of you against him. Reaching for your hands, he laces his fingers with yours and lays them against the wall, sliding his feet closer.

The cold tile against your front and Tim's hot skin at your back is an intense combination that you love – an extra reason to moan with every thrust. His body seems to cover every inch of you, enveloping you in his presence, and it's almost hard to move except to grind back against him every time he fills you up. It's a gorgeous feeling that you so easily get lost in.

“Fuck, how does it get better?” He pants into your ear. “Every fucking time, you feel even better. Addicted to you.”

"Perfect." He is the perfect one, and you won't hear anything to the contrary, panting out words with every slap of his hips against your ass. "Perfect cock. Perfect fuck. Perfect man. I—" For a moment, in your rapture, the words almost slip. Thank god you manage to swallow them quickly. "So good, baby."

“I know you’re gonna cum for me again, aren’t you?” He asks, rocking his hips forward to slap against your ass as he picks up his pace.

“Just like that.” You know it won’t take long now, not if he goes just a tiny bit harder like he does when he gets close, and the begging in your voice always gets him, too. Every time. “So fucking perfect, baby. Please let me cum fo—oh fuck— so close!”

Tim hisses, squeezing your hands as he rocks up into the balls of his feet. Thrusting harder into you. “Yessss, fuck, cum for me baby.”

Bearing down on his length this time, you can practically feel his pulse through the prominent veins of his cock as they scrub against your walls. The pressure is just as perfect as the rest of him and before you know it there are stars erupting behind your eyes.

Tim groans your name when he feels you start to cum. Loving how you whine and whimper as he works you through it. Sex with you has been amazing and he hadn’t been lying when he said it just kept getting better. When that final thrust comes and you are pressed tight between Tim and the tile, the feeling of his pulsing cock filling you full of sticky cum scratches that very private, very secret dream you have of one day actually having a family with this man, and you shiver a little with personal satisfaction when he groans your name into your skin one last time.

“God.” He pants, knowing that while he’s fucking you isn’t the right time to say those words for the first time. “So good baby.”

Laughing under your breath, you groan happily and let your weight go against the wall just to feel him slump against you. “Hell of a way to start the day,” you tease.

“Should start the day this way every morning.” He laughs along with you. “Don’t you think so?”

“Why do you think I gave you a key?” Twisting around just enough to kiss him, you hum against his lips and sigh happily.

He snorts and kisses you again. “So I should just swing into the house every morning as I go into work?” He asks playfully.

The impulse is there. The invitation right on the tip of your tongue. But it’s too soon. Way too soon. He doesn’t even know how you really feel about him yet — so telling him he could just give up his tiny bachelor pad and move in with you would probably send him running for the hills. “So you can stay over whenever you want,” is how you phrase it instead, hoping that that doesn’t sound overbearing or overeager.

“Don’t tell me that.” He warns you. “Your bed is softer than mine and it has the added bonus of having you in it. You’ll get tired of me.”

“No, I won’t.” The answer is too quick. You know that, but you can’t help it. Slowly turning around, the unfortunate side effect of losing his warmth as his quickly softening cock slips out of you is replaced by the benefit of getting to look him in the eyes. “I—I won’t get sick of you, baby.”

He nudges his nose against yours gently and sighs softly. “I hoped that I would make it a little more romantic than this.” He grumbles quietly,

“A little more romantic than being snuggly after sex?” You ask incredulously. Sure you’re not wrapped up in the blankets right now, but it’s still the same feeling.

“Something more romantic than shower sex to tell you that I love you.” Tim tells you quietly. “I’m not good with words or romance.”

When you deflate in front of him it’s out of pure shock, but you push off from the wall instantly to drag him down for a kiss. “I love you, too,” you promise him in that same hushed voice. “I have for—for months.” Since the night that he braved taking you to an Indian restaurant and got through an entire dinner before you found yourselves in the middle of a music festival in the park and he tried to sneak grabbing a hot dog because he didn’t want to admit to you that he didn’t like the restaurant you said you love. “I love you so much.”

He sighs in relief, pressing his forehead against yours and chuckling with joy. “Good. I was afraid I was rushing things. Or reading too much into the amazing sex we have.”

“I don’t think seven months before the first mention of love is anybody’s definition of rushing, baby.” Placing a kiss over his heart, you can’t help the way you grin from ear to ear when you look up at him. “But you’re right about the sex being really fucking good.”

“Yes, it is.” He agrees with a roguish wink. “Now we just need to clean up.” The functional portion of the shower never takes long. You’re both well established in your habits and are clean again in under ten minutes, leaving you to towel off on the bathroom rug together in no time. “So I was thinking that after my mom’s, I could stay tonight?” He asks, keeping his tone casual. “Since I’ll be dropping you off and I have a full weekend off for once?”

“I’m gonna call up your captain and tell him I have you handcuffed to my bed,” you joke, careful to keep yourself covered even while you’re drying off from the shower. It's a habit, and even if he’s just been inside you that’s no reason to force him to look at your whole blob-like body. “He can’t have you back until Monday. Girlfriend’s orders.”

“Careful now.” He warns with a grin. “I might like be handcuffed to your bed.” He’s never really thought about using his handcuffs, despite the ribald jokes from other detectives, but if you wanted to, he would let you. He trusts you.

“You? Give up control?” Raising one eyebrow at him in the mirror, you scoff playfully. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“I thought you like when I’m in control?” He asks with a smirk. “But for you? I’d do it.”

“The perfume I wear is literally called ‘Good Girl’,” you laugh, motioning to the stiletto-shaped bottle on your bathroom shelf. “Of course I like it when you’re in charge.”

“That’s the stuff I like?” He asks, intrigued by the name. He never knows that kind of stuff, just that you smell amazing and he always wants to rip your clothes off when he smells it.

“Yup. The little bottle shaped like a high heel.” It’s your treat to yourself. Designer perfume makes you feel a little less like a fat girl playing dress up when you get ready to see Tim or go out with friends, and a little bit more like a full-grown woman. It’s silly, but if that’s what does it, then you can’t be too mad about it.

“I will have to buy you another bottle of that when you get low.” He hums, making a mental note of it. “It smells incredible on you.”

You won’t quibble with him now over the fact that it’s pricey or anything like that. It’s the gesture that counts, and the fact that you’re getting a little bit closer each and every day. “I don’t know how well it goes with chlorine.” With one little joke, you seize the chance in front of you. “Maybe I’ll abstain from swimming today.” No swimming means no swimsuit, which means no having to be partially undressed in front of his family.

Tim sends you a pout. “Nooo, I’m looking forward to getting into the pool with you.” He huffs, eager to see you in your bathing suit and watch you bask in the sun.

“It’s okay,” you insist, trying to play it off like it doesn’t matter at all. “Maybe next time.”

Tim frowns slightly when he realizes that you are serious and you will not be getting into the pool. “Yeah sure.” He nods. “Next time.” He agrees before he moves over to the sink to brush his teeth and shave.

“Okay.” He’s upset. He’s upset with you, and your mind goes straight to the worst possible scenario which is obviously that he’s going to break up with you over it. A lifetime of trying to deal with low self-esteem and self-worth issues but still you go straight to the worst-case scenario sometimes. “Gonna go get dressed,” you mumble quickly, retreating from the room still wrapped entirely in towels, as fast as your feet will carry you.

Tim sighs, wondering where he went wrong this morning. It had been going so well but Trina had continuously accused him of putting his foot in his mouth or being insensitive. He had been trying so hard with you and yet he can tell you’re upset. He looks in the mirror and shakes his head. “Don’t fuck this up.” He orders himself with a groan.

The warm Southern climate means swimming happens all the time, but it’s still October so you put on a light cardigan with your sundress and sandals and try to keep yourself from crying and making your eyes red before you leave the house. The last thing you need is to show up to meet his kids and his mother with bloodshot eyes. “Don’t fuck this up,” you chastise yourself, opening the dresser drawer that holds your one swimsuit just to stare at it for a minute in loathing.

“Baby?” Tim had retreated downstairs once he had dressed, sure that you needed some time to yourself. “Are you ready?” Are you still coming?

“Yeah! One second!” Out of some kind of masochistic instinct, you grab your bathing suit and cram it into your tote bag when you snag it off your dresser and rush downstairs. Clothes, jewelry, make up, all of it is in place to try to make the most positive first impression possible. “Sorry, I—” You immediately focus on getting the food packed up into a reusable shopping bag. “I almost forgot to put on perfume. Stupid, right? After we just were talking about it?”

“That’s okay.” Tim approaches you slowly from behind and he gently takes hold of your waist. “You still smell great even without it.” He promises, leaning in and kissing your shoulder. Offering a silent apology.

“Do I look okay?” It’s silly to be worried. You’re a grown woman and he’s a grown man. But you’re terrified and determined not to fuck up again today.

“You look stunning.” He promises you. “If I hadn’t promised my mother that we would be there, I would keep you here and take you back upstairs to show you how pretty you look.”

“Okay.” Nodding twice, your head hangs between your shoulders for a second before you force yourself to straighten up and take the bag full of food from the counter. “Ready when you are.”

“Are you sure you want to go?” He asks, concerned that he is pushing too fast. It seems like you’re forcing yourself to go.

“Of course I’m sure.” The brightness in your voice isn’t entirely forced. You do want to go, you’re just terrified and self-conscious. And from the look on his face, he knows something is wrong. “I’m just—” Your eyes drop and so do your shoulders. “I’m worried what they’ll think of me, that’s all.”

“Baby.” He shakes his head and sighs softly, happy that he can reassure you. “They are going to love you.” He promises. “Probably love you more than me.”

“They loved Trina.” You’ve seen plenty of his pictures of his ex-wife. Their wedding pictures, especially, and even how skinny she managed to get back to being after having their twins. She’s stunning, and successful, and smart. And you’re a dumpy little nobody who sits behind a desk and definitely never goes to the gym. “I’m not like her. At all.”

“That’s a good thing.” He promises, chuckling at how ridiculous it would be to date someone like his ex.

You let out a half-laugh, huffing at yourself, and shake your head slightly. It sounds so stupid to say it out loud, but here you are in the middle of your kitchen about to break apart at the seams over a first meeting. “She—she’s prettier than me.” In every sense, in your opinion. But especially, she’s skinnier.

Tim frowns and vehemently shakes his head. “That is not true.” He argues. “And it doesn’t matter how pretty she is, she is my ex-wife.” He reminds you. “She left me. Took my kids from me.”

“Right.” Blinking back the impending tears that will ruin your makeup and the mood, you nod your head and take a steadying, if shaky, breath. “Right. I know that. I’m sorry. I’m just—I’m being stupid.”

“You aren’t being stupid.” He huffs, hating how you belittle yourself. You are kind and generous to everyone but yourself. “It is just nerves, right? This is a big step and I’m sure I’ll be shitting myself when I meet your folks.”

“It’s nerves.” You agree, nodding again and resisting the urge to press on your closed eyes to stop the water behind them. It would smudge the eye makeup you put on so carefully. All waterproof, ironically. But not touched-with-hands proof. “I just don’t—” It is stupid, and a part of you knows that. The part that pays fucking attention in therapy every other week. “I don’t want you to finally realize you’ve been dating a cow if I put on my swimsuit,” you admit quietly.

“A cow?” He growls the comment in surprise, rearing back and wondering where the hell that idea came from. “Who the fuck called you a cow?” He demands, furious and ready to punch someone if they’ve insulted you like that.

“Nobody had to.” Your sister. Your grade school bully. The woman at the department store. A girl at camp. A boy you had a crush on in high school. Your parents. Nobody. Everybody. “I’m just a little anxious. It’s fine. I just won’t have any caffeine the rest of the day and it won’t get worse. Please don’t be upset?”

Tim shakes his head and he reaches up to cup your cheeks. “Baby, put your bag down.” He orders you softly. He doesn’t want to leave this house until he’s truly talked to you, and if that means being late, then he will be late. “Please?”

It only takes a moment of silence between you before you swallow your protest and set your purse and the bag of food back on the counter. This is it. He’s going to dump you for being an idiot. At least you got to tell him you love him before that happened, right?

He guides you over to the chair and sits you down, kneeling in front of it and holding onto your hands. “Baby, I don’t know why you are so hard on yourself.” He starts softly. “But I want you to know how I see you.” He knows self-image is just that, your image of your own self, he can’t change your mind for you. “I see you right now, and you are gorgeous.” He nods, smiling as he looks at you. “Generous, pillowy curves that make my mouth water and my cock ache.” Licking his lips, he continues. “I love the way you feel, the way you taste. I love your heart, your kindness. Your thoughtfulness. Your patience.” He stresses. “You are beautiful, inside and out and I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You say cow, I say stunning, voluptuous goddess that I love.”

“I know that the voice in my head that says these things is intentionally hurting me.” Holding onto his hands like a lifeline, you end up squeezing his fingers in yours. “I’ve been in therapy for enough years to know that. It’s a skewed perspective. But there really are sometimes that I cannot shut it off. It’s like a train going off the tracks,” you explain, hoping he can follow the line of what you’re saying. “I can see the disaster ten feet ahead of me, but it’s too late to stop it. I know I’m going to go headfirst into the worst kind of hating myself, but I can’t stop it from happening.”

“I know what you mean.” He does. He’s seen the department shrink enough times to understand that. It’s like when he blames himself for circumstances beyond his control. “I’m never going to tell you that you are stupid, or dumb for thinking that way.” He promises you. “But I am going to disagree with you, tell you that you are wrong. Because there isn’t one thing about you that I would change.”

"Really?" There's a second where you're too afraid to look up at him, but you can feel Tim's eyes on you and so you raise your head in some kind of silent moment of obedience and it makes you decide to crack a smile and go for a joke. "Not even my broken brain?"

“Not even that.” He smiles at you. “Because I love you, all of you. The good and the negative.” He squeezes your hands gently, “Love you, baby.”

"I love you, too." You lean over to kiss him, half in disbelief that he didn't ask for his key back and walk out your door. "Thank you. For...for listening. And not thinking I'm crazy for overreacting."

He chuckles and leans down to kiss your hand. “Baby, I think you are crazy for putting up with me, not for how you feel.”

"You're amazing, and it's never putting up with you. I love spending time with you." The sigh that comes out of you is deep and long, but you feel better. The weight on your shoulders has lifted, if only for now, and you manage an honest smile. "We should get going, baby. You don't get to see the twins that often and I don't want you to miss a minute of it today."

“Okay.” He waits another moment, searching your eyes and then he pats your thigh gently. “Let’s go. I can quickly change.”

It's a fast enough trip to stop by his apartment on your way to his mother's house, and once he's swapped his work clothes for a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, he slides back into the car beside you and you're off to the races again. At this rate you'll be no more than five minutes late, and that is nothing at all.

Driving the familiar route home, he points out places he used to go as a child and then a teenager. Sharing glimpses into his life. Holding his hand in yours as he pulls up to the two-story house that he had been raised in. “I'm right here with you.” He promises, kissing your hand again. “And they will love you.”

"As long as you love me, I'm okay." That's the pep talk you were giving yourself on the way over, and you're feeling a little more settled after the glimpses into his past. You didn't grow up around here so you can't do any such tour for yourself, but it's nice to see a slightly different side of the town you've lived in for years.

“Are you ready?” He asks after he cuts the engine, turning towards you slightly. “Or do you need a minute?”

"Let's do it." If you sit in the car and procrastinate you'll only give the negative thoughts time to come back, so you lean over to kiss him and buck yourself up. "I'm good, baby. I promise."

“You are always good.” He tells you with a wink before he climbs out of the car and hustles around to open your door for you. Taking the dishes you had protected on the way over so you can get out.

There is plenty of noise coming from the backyard of the beautiful little brick house, and the sound of splashing is already obvious along with music playing and people chatting at various volumes. This is definitely a family party, and it seems like the family is already here.

"Uncle Tim!" The call comes up from the pool first, as his nephew catches sight of him first and waves. "Holy shit! Y'all, Uncle Tim actually left his desk!" The teenager teases with a cackling laugh.

“Yeah, yeah.” Tim rolls his eyes in good fun as he waves back. His hand immediately goes back to the small of your back and he slowly guides you forward. “Come on baby, we’ll put up the food inside and then come back out.”

"Holy shit Uncle Tim brought a girl!" A teenage girl's voice calls after you, with as much excitement as shock, and you're in the middle of a fit of giggles when he opens the sliding door to let you into the kitchen from the back porch. "So that's your nephew and niece, huh?" You snort, smothering the sound with one hand even as you try to stop laughing.

“Brats.” He huffs, his sour look simply for show. “You would think I was a ball-less hermit.” He snorts, setting the travel bag for your dishes down and then opens the fridge to see if there’s room.

"Language." His mother's warning tone is playful from around the corner, but she still means it. Foul language stays outside, it doesn't come inside her house. "Timothy Alan, don't make me send you outside if you're going to be vulgar."

“Me?” He points at himself as he exclaims. “They are being vulgar. And I’m the one in trouble?” His question doesn’t stop him from immediately moving around the corner to engulf his mother in a hug. “Hey Ma.” He kisses her cheek and urges her to come into the kitchen. “I brought my girlfriend.”

"They're outside and I can't hear it," his mother teases, blissfully aware of her arbitrary rules and the fact that nobody is actually in any trouble whatsoever. "Honey." She reaches out both hands to you after giving Tim a hug. "He's been hiding you from me knowing I'm gonna steal you away to have a cooking friend again. It is so good to meet you, sweetheart."

"It's really nice to meet you too, Mrs. Rockford." Even as she envelopes you in the same tight hug that Tim got, you look over her shoulder to shoot Tim a surprised expression.

Suzanne Rockford is far from a petite woman. She is sturdy, hearty. Obviously heavier and he has never told you that, honestly believing that it didn’t matter, but now he wonders if he should have. Maybe you would have been less self-conscious if you had known. He shoots you a smile and a half shrug. “Where’s Vanessa?” He asks, looking around for his sister.

"Upstairs, looking for god knows what in the attic? Unless she’s found it already, and then who knows." Suzanne waves one hand and pays that no mind. "Did Tim offer you a drink yet honey?" She asks you, giving you her absolute full attention. "We've got a whole bar out on the back porch, and the fridge under the car port has beer and soda. But I keep the wine in here." Apparently that is a conspiratorial secret, because she waggles her eyebrows at you. "Whatever you want, I'll grab you a cup."

"I'll grab a soda when we go back out," you promise her, not wanting to start drinking too early in the day. According to Tim, his mother's parties are a strictly all-day affair.

“Ma, she brought an apple crisp and a noodle dish. Vegan, for Zara to enjoy.” He tells her, beaming proudly. “Where do you want me to put them?”

"In the fridge, honey. There's room on the bottom shelf." She looks just as proud as he does, and she reaches out to squeeze your hand. "She's doing well with it, you know," she nods authoritatively. "Talked to her doctor about making sure she gets protein and all her vitamins. Doing some really creative cooking, that one. Once she's got her mind set on something, that's it. It's do or die." Suzanne smirks. "Gets that from her Dad."

“I tried some of that vegan cheese.” Tim tells his mom, shuddering slightly. “The sliced stuff is shit, but the shredded stuff actually melts pretty good.”

“What matters is that you tried.” Suzanne nods approvingly. “Have you two gotten to say hi yet?”

“Not yet, we wanted to get the food put up.” He explains, coming back over to kiss his mom’s cheek again. “I’m looking forward to seeing them. Texting when we get a chance sucks.”

“Go introduce everybody,” she encourages, shooting a smile your way before shooing him off. “There’s things to snack on out there already. Lunch in an hour, or whenever Ricky gets that grill going.”

“Yes ma’am.” He chuckles, knowing that Ricky will fight with the grill for at least ten minutes. He moves over to you and takes your hand. “Let’s go see the kids, baby.”

You let him usher you back out into the bright, late morning sun, and for the first time you get a good look at the backyard in its entirety. There are a lot of people here — more than a dozen for sure — and you can hear another car honk as it pulls up in front of the house. The mood is pure happiness and even a tinge of nostalgia, as people greet each other who haven’t seen each other in ages. The air of absolutely everything is positive, and you take a deep breath to bring some of that into you as well.

Tim sees the first one that he wants to introduce you to. “Vanessa!” He half cups his mouth with one hand to shout his sister’s name. “Get your ass over here!”

"Hi to you, too!" His younger sister rolls her eyes and kisses the woman she was talking to on the cheek before hustling across the lawn. She has a beer in her hand and sunglasses on top of her curls, and she has the same stout and strong figure as their mother but with a little bit more grace in her movements.

He lets go of your hand only so he can wrap his arms around his sister and hug her tight. Making her squeal when he squeezes too tight. “How have you been? It’s been a month or so.”

“Yeah, you’ve been busy.” She raises both her eyebrows at you, waggling them for comedic effect, and then promptly nudges her brother away so she can shake your outstretched hand.

“Sorry if I’ve kept him away from you,” you apologize, not ever wanting her to think that you were intentionally keeping Tim away from his family.

“Are you kidding me?” She laughs, giving your hand a squeeze. “It’s fantastic. I’ve barely seen him sulk in months.”

“I don’t sulk.” His lips immediately form a pout as he glares at his sister. “I was gonna be happy to introduce you to my girlfriend, now you can fuck off.” Even though he says that, he immediately tells her your name before pointing at her. “This is Vanessa, the pain in my ass all my childhood.”

"It's really nice to meet you." He's told you a lot about his sister and you already knew she was a ball buster, but meeting her now feels like a relief. They're close and it's fun to see Tim relaxed like this with his family. "Believe it or not he's actually only told me great things about you."

“Oh, I’m sure.” Her tone is sarcastic and she’s rolling her eyes, but her grin gives her away as she transfers her attention from her brother to you. “I’m a hugger.” She warns you before she pulls you in for a less formal greeting than a handshake.

"It's okay, I am too." It's a far sweeter welcome than you expected to get, both from his mom and his sister, and you let yourself squeeze her back just for a second before letting go. "I'm just really excited to meet everyone."

“I was so excited that Tim told Mom he was bringing you.” She tells you with a smirk at her brother. “It’s been forever since he’s introduced us to someone, and she who shall not be named isn’t exactly ‘fun’.” She confides.

"Oh?" Having been under the impression that his family had liked his ex while they were together, you tilt your head curiously. "Well, uh...we figured it was time," you offer with a shrug. "It's been more than a few months, ya know? And...and things have been really good. Tim is just—" You glance back at him and end up grinning. "He's really amazing."

“He’s a good guy.” As much shit as she gives him, she would be the first to defend her brother and she knows he is much the same way. Siblings in the sense that she can tease him but she’ll kick anyone else’s ass who does. “And he talks about you a lot, so I think he likes you.”

"You talk about me?" Yes, sure, he told you he loves you less than two hours ago, but you still soften in surprise hearing that.

“Oh he doesn’t shut up about you.” She insists, smirking wickedly at Tim who looks very interested in the top of his foot in his flip flops. “Asking if he should take you here, talking about your job. I feel like I know you.” She pats your arm. “He told me he didn’t want to fuck this up.”

"Did he tell you about the fundraiser he let me drag him to?" He's blushing and it's the cutest thing you've ever seen, so if you maybe pick out something to talk about that will make his cheeks turn an even deeper shade of red then that's entirely on purpose.

“Nooooooo.” Vanessa lights up and is nearly about to bust for information. “My brother? At a fundraiser?” She sounds positively scandalized, as if she could never imagine such a thing.

"The nonprofit I work for has dinner dances and black-tie events during the year." You explain, feeling Tim shift self-consciously next to you in the grass even though he's smiling. "He's actually been to two of them now."

“You got my brother to wear something other than those horrible dress pants and button ups?” She gasps. “I swear the ties were from Christmas when the twins were four.”

“We rented him a tuxedo for one event.” The admission brings a dramatic sigh from Tim but you lean over to put your arm around his waist and smile broadly. “You look good no matter what, honey.” Did you climb him like a tree that night because he looked extra good in the tux? Absolutely. But he still looks delicious in his t-shirt and shorts.

“I should just buy one.” Tim grumbles. He hadn’t liked wearing it, although realistically, it wasn’t much different from a regular suit. And you had enjoyed him in it. The sex had been extremely hot once he had gotten you back to your place. “Since you want me to go to those things.”

Vanessa’s eyebrows raise at the offer, and she smirks mercilessly. Hearing her big brother make any kind of comment that trends toward commitment is practically worth celebrating. “Ya know,” She giggles evilly and takes a sip of her beer. “I hear that’s even the kind of shit guys get married in.”

Tim nearly chokes in his own tongue, wishing he had decided to take the crime scene call that had come over the radio on the way here. Even a blood bath would have been preferable to the way his sister is probing for information. He just said he loves you, if he starts talking about marriage, you might think he’s gone nuts.

“Oookay, maybe let’s not pick a topic that makes him want to implode?” You try to joke, squeezing his arm gently, and stifle a laugh. That’s exactly the kind of thing you would expect from a little sister but you don’t want Tim to think you’re crazy the way the idea may or may not have already crossed your mind in daydreams from time to time.

“Jesus, Ness.” Tim huffs. “First time you meet her and you’re picking out our wedding colors?” He rolls his eyes. “Booked the church already?”

“Mom did.” Vanessa laughs, and you can’t quite tell if she’s kidding or not as she blows Tim a kiss and scampers off to keep her husband from blowing the place up while he’s on the grill.

“Oh dear God.” He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I’ll—I’ll make sure Ma didn’t actually reserve the church.”

“Baby, baby—” You grab both of his hands and let a laugh burst through as you pull him closer. “She’s teasing. It’s okay. I’m sure your mom didn’t do anything like that and even if she did, who cares? It’s a funny story we’ll tell someone in the future.” Honestly? It makes you pretty fucking comfortable here knowing that his family is full of ball busters with good senses of humor. And that they’re okay enough with you to include you in those jokes.

“I wouldn’t put it past her.” He grumbles, although he’s leaning in to kiss your lips.

“Then it’s a really funny story we tell later on.” You promise him, happily taking that kiss that he offers you so easily. “I like that your sister is comfortable enough with me to tease.”

“They like you.” He points out with a grin. “Just like I told you they would.” He catches sight of the twins and lights up. “Come on, there they are.”

“This is going on the internet!” Tim’s twin girls are pulling out their phones as soon as they see their father, dramatically button smashing and pointing the devices at the two of you. “Red alert! Dad’s girlfriend is real! This is not a drill!”

“Hey!” Tim lunges forward, snatching for their phones playfully. “Don’t make me throw you in the pool!”

“You can’t.” They’re fraternal twins, and the taller one - Zara - reaches out to hug her dad first. “Your back couldn’t handle it if you tried.”

“I’d try.” He immediately wraps his arms around his firstborn daughter and hugs her tight to his chest. “Hey bug, how have you been?” He asks, kissing her head.

“I got a term paper kicking my ass, but I’m doing okay.” Zara shrugs. Her studies mean the world to her, next to her family, but she tries to stay realistic and avoid overreacting when school is difficult.

“She’s doing amazing, it’s annoying.” The slightly shorter of the twins has lighter hair and looks a bit more like their mother, but that hasn’t stopped Joey from growing up the opposite of Trina; well-adjusted and affectionate. “We need to ask you a favor, though,” she looks at both you and Tim seriously.

“What’s up?” Tim immediately frowns, sure that there is something wrong, something he needs to fix.

“We need you to throw Thanksgiving this year.” Both girls insist in unison, a habit leftover from childhood, before Joey continues to explain. “Gran said she wasn’t up to hosting on her own this year so Mom is trying to make us go to Derek’s parents’ house. But if we tell her you’re throwing Thanksgiving with your girlfriend we’ll be off the hook.” The idea that their grandmother doesn’t want to host anymore has been a bummer for everyone, but an even bigger bummer would be having to deal with their second step-dad’s snooty family.

“I—" he looks helpless towards you, hating that you’ve been put on the spot like this. Holidays haven’t even been discussed and he doesn’t know what you usually do. “Girls, look, even if—”

“No problem.” You cut in, knowing you might be overstepping a tiny bit but for the first favor you might be able to grant his kids, you’ll take that chance. “Even if your Dad gets tied up on a case, my house is big enough and I’m a pretty decent cook.” You do look to Zara though, knowing she can’t be too fond of the main event on Thanksgiving. “We’ll pick out some vegan things together, too.”

His oldest daughter immediately perks up at that idea. “Really?” She asks excitedly. “You wouldn’t mind? I know there’s like, a lot of negativity about vegans, some of them are real assholes.” She tells you. “But I just want to, you know, live pure. But I don’t blame people for eating meat, or if they can’t make me something.”

“I made a couple of things for today that are vegan, it’s really not a problem.” Her enthusiasm and her surprise at being accommodated just makes you want to reach out and hug her, but you look to her father instead. “Is this okay with you, hun? I mean my family’s Thanksgiving is clear across the country and it would be nice to…ya know…do something at home. Instead of being a pity invite at a coworker’s house.”

“What? Yeah.” He nods eagerly, both happy that the girls will be there and that you will be too. “Of course.” He looks over at the girls. “This year won’t be pizza because the turkey’s frozen.” He chuckles.

“Thank you.” Joey is the first to break the ice, reaching out to squeeze both of your shoulders. “Don’t get the wrong impression or anything, our Mom is great at some things, but hosting holidays is not one of them. Which is why it went to her mom for so long, and then whatever guy she’s married to, and—”

Zara practically elbows her sister in the ribs and smiles politely. “This is Joey,” she laughs, waving a hand at her sister. “She talks a lot when she’s nervous.”

“It’s okay.” With a wave of your own hand, you are offering both girls hugs if they want them. “I’m nervous, too. Your Dad loves the hell out of you girls and I’ve been really looking forward to meeting you.”

Zara and Joey both hug you, smiling happily while Tim looks on. He’s relieved that you seem to like the girls. And while it might be unusual that he’s just now introducing you to his twenty-year-old twins, he hadn’t wanted to force things too early. They had resented Derek’s intrusion into their lives when their mom had immediately started dating him, and he hadn’t wanted to make the same mistakes.

Getting to know Tim’s girls is fantastic. They’re good kids, smart as hell, and enthusiastic about their dad being happy again. So enthusiastic, in fact, that it’s easily an hour later when lunch is being announced that you manage to make your way back to his side after being stolen away. You’re at the food table with Zara while she scoops out a plate of your vegan peanut noodles when you give her a squeeze and tell her you’re going to go grab something to eat — and immediately drift away to Tim’s side as he brings over a plate of burgers and hot dogs to the other end of the table.

“Well hey there stranger,” you laugh, slipping one arm around his waist and sighing in relief at having the solid, comforting bulk of him back again.

“Hey.” He grins at you as he sets down the plate. “Sorry, had to rescue the day.” His brother-in-law had actually caught the grill on fire because he hadn’t cleaned it. Tim had taken over and been in charge of the food.

“My hero.” The grin on your face speaks volumes. “Some damn good kids you’ve got there, Rockford. They kept me well entertained, and we’ve got a whole menu worked out for Thanksgiving already.”

“Oh really?” He chuckles. “Has Zara convinced you to make me fry a Tofurkey?” He asks, knowing she might have tried.

“We’re going to do a dish of roasted cauliflower, mushrooms, and butternut squash to add to the table. She got excited about trying out a spice mix in them and said she’d love it for her main dish.” Hell, it sounded good to you as a meat eater, it didn’t surprise you that it sounded good to a vegan. “And she gave me some tips on using alternative milks and vegan butter in recipes so that more of the traditional dishes could be vegan friendly.” Honestly? None of it sounded difficult, and you’re thrilled to be able to do something for his kids. “No exaggeration. I’m looking forward to it.”

“That’s good.” The fact that you are accommodating his daughter is something that makes him fall a little more in love with you. Trina had complained bitterly when Zara had announced becoming vegan.

“I know you were worried when it came out of nowhere, but you don’t need to be.” In fact, after actually getting here and meeting everyone, you’re feeling more relaxed than you had thought possible. “And I—I just wanted to apologize for earlier,” you admit quietly. “Now that I know how nice everyone is, it…how I acted feels even more ridiculous.”

“So you don’t think that I’m going to realize anything more than I’m going home with a hot chick tonight?” He asks, leaning in and nudging his nose against yours.

"As long as you think so, that's all that matters." You don't have to see it, you remind yourself, as long as he does. What had your therapist said to you ages ago? 'You're just not your own type'.

“I absolutely think so.” He winks and leans back to leer at you. “Especially when you look that pretty in your sundress.”

"Oh yeah?" That look is all too familiar to you, and you bite back a grin. It's the same appraising look he had given you at the fundraiser before stealing you away from the party and back to his apartment, which was much closer to the venue than your house.

“Very pretty.” Tim grunts, moving behind you and pressing up against you at the table. “Good enough to eat.”

"Is that a promise?" He has that hungry look in his eyes that you can never resist and you try to school your expression into something innocent.

“Ah ah ahaaaaaa.” Vanessa tuts as she picks up a plate. “Not around the food.”

"Busted," you smirk, pulling Tim away from the table and heading toward the house as subtly as possible.

“You wanna?” Tim groans happily, his shuffled steps quickening behind you. He has zero qualms with having sex in this house, but he had expected you to demure.

“I always want you.” You murmur, practically rolling your eyes at him as you disappear into the house together. “Like absolutely always. It’s a constant state of existence, baby.”

“Yeah?” It surprises him how much you want him. Delights him, but surprises him. He watches you walk towards the stairs. “Last room on the left, baby.”

The upstairs hallway is littered with family photos of many generations, and you quickly look through them as you walk, until one makes you stop dead and “Aww!” out loud. Elementary age Tim in a little policeman’s uniform shares a double frame with a photo of the same man fifteen or twenty years later on the day he graduated from the Police Academy. “This might be the cutest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen,” you grin, pointing to the photos.

“Always knew I wanted to be a cop.” He feels his face burn and he shuffles slightly as he watches you examine the photos. “A little different now, don’t wear the uniform.”

“Nah, you don’t.” You grin up at him and hook your finger in his t-shirt to bring him down for a kiss. “I like the shoulder holster better anyway. Much sexier.”

“Sexier, huh?” He grins against your lips and leans in to press you against the wall. “Want me to wear it for you one day?”

“Maybe.” Your lips quirk against his in a way that absolutely means yes, and your hands wander up under his t-shirt to spread out over his muscles back. “Kinda curious how you would feel about interrogating me, actually…”

“Really?” He pulls back and arches a brow at you. “You want that? Maybe those handcuffs we were talking about? Giving you a pat down?”

The way you muffle a soft groan and briefly close your eyes should be plenty enough of a giveaway. “If I wasn’t wet before I certainly am now,” you grumble, enjoying the fantasy playing yet again in your mind.

“You concealing a weapon?” He asks gruffly, even though he is smiling. He won’t really roleplay with you right now, but you seem to love the idea.

“Maybe…” You can’t help but giggle, taking his hand that isn’t braced on the wall above your head and guiding it under the skirt of your sundress. “Guess you’re gonna have to find out.”

All he can feel is generous, warm flesh. Making him groan and his cock twitches against your hip. “When did you take your panties off?”

“I snuck inside about ten minutes ago.” Your soft little grin turns wicked. “I think I have a domesticity kink, cause I was enjoying watching you at the grill.”

“I’ll grill every night if you stop wearing panties.” He promises with a groan. “My sexy girl.”

“You wanna add another notch to that bedpost, baby?” The two of you are about three feet from the door to his childhood room and it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to get caught fucking in the hallway. Just for basic courtesy’s sake.

“Only notch that counts.” He promises, pulling away from you to drag you into the bedroom.

______

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idesofrevolution · 5 months

Text

Precursor

"Jesus, Danny I don't know what the fuck to do about it, okay? He just fuckin' got me out of no where." Click, clack. Click, clack. The tapping of his fingers on the mouse and keyboard were the only sounds echoing in the dark room aside from his shouts. "Well, I how the fuck should I know? I told you I wasn't good at this game! You're the one who kept begging me to play it, and it's bullshit dude!" For a game that was supposed to be this fun phenomenon, 'Precursor' was proving to be quite a bit lesser than Greg anticipated. Danny had begged him for weeks to join the game and do a couple of rounds with him, if only to get him hooked. For Greg, a video game was like Civilization or Cities Skylines... building something great with strategy and creativity. To him, this was a boring shoot 'em up that had a steep learning curve, and it was grating on his nerves. "Well, dude I told you I didn't know how to play this stupid game but you wouldn't take no for an answer!"

Another red screen and the words 'Exterminated' were sprawled across the screen. Greg slammed his fists down onto the desk, spilling his Red Bull all over his lap. He threw his head back in yet another defeat, his seventh in the span of an hour. Looking down at his phone, the late hour had all but caused him even further grief.

"You know what, dude? This game fucking sucks. I don't know why you wanted me to play with you." Danny, surely kicking ass on the battlefront from somewhere behind his screen in Oklahoma hundreds of miles away, was less than enthused. "Ya know what, fine. I will do the fucking noob lobby, okay? I swear to God, though, if this shit doesn't get fun in ten minutes I'm loggin' off." Greg disconnected from his online pal and reentered back into the main menu. He sighed, how the fuck could anyone without a trigger-happy index finger and a desire to think about their options for more than a split second find this game fun? To him, it was all reflexes and no brain power. Clicking through the main menu, he searched for the "Noob" lobby in the available servers. He scrolled for an agonizing ten seconds of full lobbies before he gave up.

"Man, fuck this." He was a single moment away from clicking that exit button before his elbow slipped on some of the Red Bull that had spilled onto the desktop. His wrist banged onto the keys, leaving a string of gibberish into the searchbar. He grabbed one of his clean socks from the floor and sopped up the syrupy water and tossed it behind him over his shoulder. Whatever. Turning back to his screen, to his utter astonishment, the search for 'pjdkluyoikms' had come up with a single hit: 3/9 players in the lobby. Greg looked down at his phone again, 3:30 in the morning grimaced back at him. He'd have to be up in 4 hours if he'd kept the job he quit a few days prior, but with unemployment looming over his head the hours didn't seem so important to him. The game was known for being a time void, sucking in every available minute it's players had to use.

"Fuck it." He clicked join, and waited as the lobby began to load. For a second, his monitor became severely pixelated, but quickly returned to normal. Before long, he was met with the game mode selection and a couple of voices chatting amongst the static. Bruiser, Scout, Sniper, Runner, Bomber... He didn't know how to use a single one of these characters and in the back of his mind, he wasn't keen on being embarrassed yet again for another hour of failures.

"Who's this?" One of the voices from the ether bellowed out from his headphones, and for whatever reason his skin flushed with goosebumps. "Yo, new guy, did you mean to come here? It's a private server."

"Ahh, shit. I'm sorry, my friend made me buy this game and I don't know what I'm doing. I'll find another, my bad!" Greg scampered to try and just choose a character so he could exit out of the menu, but a second voice gave him immediate pause. It was unlike the other players he'd met so far, in that he wasn't a complete dick right off the bat.

"Nahh, it's cool! We could use a runner this round if you're down? We can take it easy, right boys?" His voice was smooth, chill, if not a bit high pitched in a tenor timbre. The guy could have a career in anime protagonist voice acting if he'd put his mind to it, Greg was quickly put at ease with just a single word.

"You think he can keep up?" the third voice, husky and deep questioned.

"We've played with worse, bro. Remember Clive before Mick got to him? We lost four rounds before Mick got it to stick! He won't fuck up, will ya new guy?" Greg nervously chuckled, knowing full well he'd be terrible in the beginning either way.

"Uhhhh, give me a round or two to get the hang of it... I'm sure I can do it. Nothing better to do anyway."

"That's the spirit! See? He's gonna be great. I'll get him up to snuff." A fall of silence came over the server, Greg shifted in his seat. "Alright, newbie. Just choose runner and I got your back. I used to main runner, so I can show you the ropes." Taking a deep breath, Greg clicked on the avatar for Runner, and hit accept. He entered the lobby, seeing the three players had already chosen their avatars. 1: lostdestiny (scout), 2: EdgeRunner (bruiser), 3: ironclad (bomber), and now 4: Greg (runner).

ironclad: I take it you're Greg, then?

Greg: What gave it away?

The three others chuckled, and the loadbar began to fill. Greg could feel the anxiety and anticipation grow within him. He was about to faceplant AGAIN, and in front of these strangers. At least it wouldn't be long until he'd be kicked anyway.

EdgeRunner: Aight, listen up man. I can't be a babysitter, but I'll be following you. Just do what I tell you to do and you'll be fine. You got this, man. Yeah?

Greg: Uh, yeah man. I'll do my best.

lostdestiny: Don't worry guys, he's gonna do his best.

EdgeRunner: Pipe down, will ya, Des? Fuck. Alright, here we go. Lay low and let them come out on their own.

The four of them were dumped onto the map, this one seemed to be some dirty Cyberpunk city in the rain. Sooner rather than later, it'd be a warzone. Greg sat gobsmacked, frozen in place as the others ran for cover.

ironclad: Yo, get to cover, they'll be here any fuckin' second!

Greg: Whuh.... What do I do, where do I go?

EdgeRunner: Turn to your left, there's a hidden door in the bodega. Hold shift and run. Go!

Greg did as he was told, holding down the shift bar and going toward the store on the corner of the street. He was unprepared for just how quickly he would get there, running straight into the wall to the left of the door. Runner indeed. Rounding the doorway, he snuck down the aisles, and up to the door. He burst in, plowing through stacked boxes and into the racks of the storeroom.

EdgeRunner: Aight, you can let go of the shift, bud.

lostdestiny: Fuck, we're so screwed. We lose out on this one it's on you Edge, and I'm not coughin' up a single coin.

EdgeRunner: Des, hit your fuckin' vape and keep your eyes peeled. I'll worry about the new kid. Greg, hang tight. Wait for me to give you a signal, then you run to the hotel down the street. Got it?

Greg chuckled to himself, he'd stumbled into quite the little gang. These guys were far from noobs, they were good if not professionals. From behind the closed door, he sat idly, waiting with bated breath for Edge to give him the unmentioned word. Over his headphones, he could hear the trio plotting as if they were soldiers planning their attack.

EdgeRunner: Iron, be position. They're gonna come barreling down that alley like a fuckin' stampede, so nuke 'em until I can get there. Des, they in sight yet?

lostdestiny: Just like you said, boss man. Comin' in hot.

EdgeRunner: Perfect. Greg. There's a glowing purple crate in the corner. Open it and pick up whatever is in it, and do it quick.

Greg fumbled over the keys, searching the dark room until he saw the glowing purple box hidden beneath a pile of trash. Clicking on it, the box opened, shucking all the garbage atop it onto the floor. Inside sat a strange green vial.

Greg: Its... It's a glass syringe? Glowing green stuff inside.

EdgeRunner: That's what you're looking for. Bag it and get ready to run.

Greg slipped it into his bag. The syringe showed up as 'upgrade' in the inventory, but no other information was provided. Usually, at least, there was some sort of witty description for the items in-game. Might be modded, he thought to himself, not that he would know anyway. He positioned himself by the door, holding his breath.

ironclad: Fireworks.

EdgeRunner: Now, Greg. Go!

His left pinky firmly planted on the shift key, Greg burst out of the door, through the store and into the street. Outside, a barrage of AI cop grunts were surrounding the building across the way. Pillars of smoke and fire erupted from bombs being dropped from the roof, a massive lug of muscle being the culprit with Ironclad's red tag hovering above him. From within the crowd, an explosion of grunts flew through the air, and dead in the center of the action was EdgeRunner, a maxxed out avatar oozing athleticism and strength with a nearly full level bar floating above him. Fuck, who were these guys?

EdgeRunner: Don't fuckin' freeze on us, Greg. Run!

Taking the hint, Greg bolted down the street, weaving past smoke bombs and gunfire until he made it to the hotel's revolving door, shattering the glass as he crashed through. Inside, three grunts stood behind the front desk, quickly pulling out absurdly massive guns.

Greg: Edge, there's guys in here, they got big ass motherfucking guns too.

EdgeRunner: Fuck, okay. Hold control, shift, and Y. Then run to the elevator. Do it before they peg ya!

Greg: Fuck!

EdgeRunner: Iron, toss a few into the hotel. Help the kid out.

ironclad: On it.

Greg could hear the whistling in the air of the incoming bombs flying toward the lobby. He held down the keys and ran toward the elevators as instructed. Though, as he did, waves of colors surrounded his avatar, deflecting the bullets as they flew before the explosions behind him came bursting in. As the elevator doors closed in front of him, he saw the XP points flowing into his bar from the dead grunts. The elevator began to climb.

EdgeRunner: Woooooooooo baby! That's what I call a bait n switch! Kid, you're a natural.

lostdestiny: Beginner's luck.

EdgeRunner: It's gonna be a second before that elevator gets to the top level. Regroup at the hotel, they'll be swarming him. Des, you're on the 99th floor, right?

lostdestiny: Best view in the city.

EdgeRunner: Keep watch, we'll be there in a second. New guy will be on your floor in a couple of minutes. Greg, let's do a one-on-one, yeah?

On the screen, a side window popped up in the bottom corner. Incoming call: EdgeRunner 1 on 1. Fuck, was this guy trying to video chat?

Greg: Uhhhh, I didn't know you could cam...

EdgeRunner: What, you ain't jackin' off are ya? C'mon lemme see.

Greg waited for a moment, nervous beyond words. Watch it be some 60 year old gaming in his mom's basement, was this really the kind of guy he'd want to game with anyway? The curiosity had only crept up since he stumbled into the server, it's not as if they were meeting in real life or anything. It's a screen. He nodded to himself, as if to give himself permission, and clicked on the accept button. In the corner box, EdgeRunner himself popped into focus.

Not what he expected whatsoever. He wasn't much older than Greg, maybe late twenties, early thirties. That was a relief. His room was shrouded in a blue hue, pairing nicely with his ID tag color in game. He was covered in ink from the forehead down, with white hair and a nice pair of pecs cropped just out of view. Again, far from what he expected to see.

"What's up, Greggo?" He smirked, as if studying Greg from behind his lens.

"Yeah... In an elevator. On my computer." Edge laughed, taking his eye contact away to refocus on his game.

"Playin' pretty fuckin' well so far. You sure you never played before now?" Greg found himself blushing a tad bit at this hunk of a man, alarmingly similar to the stud avatar he portrayed online. "Might have to keep you around if you keep up at this rate." The ping of the elevator reaching the 99th floor brought him right back into the world, as the doors opened to a tall, lanky guy with his back to him.

"Des, I presume?"

lostdestiny: Who the fuck else would it be? Mommie? Get to the loot at the end of the hall, fifth door on the right.

"Des isn't the sweetest fruit in the basket. Don't mind him. But get to the room as quick as you can, bud." Holding down the shift key yet again, though now as if it were second nature to him, he bolted down the hall, dodging the mines which littered the floor. "Yeah, don't be up in your feelings about it, but the upgrade is for you, kid. If I were you, I'd take it now while you can. Get you on our level quicker, if ya catch my drift." Greg didn't think twice. He opened the inventory, clicked on the vial, and hit use. His avatar quickly pulled out the syringe from off screen, jamming it into his wrist. The liquid quickly flowed into his avatar, but changes were slow. He arrived at the door, opening them to a boardroom overlooking the whole city, bathed in a purple hue.

Greg: What am I looking for exactly?

ironclad: You'll know it when you see it. Find it quick, they're coming up.

As Greg began to search through the shelves and drawers lining the walls, he was too preoccupied to notice the veins of black starting to flow from his fingertips up his limber arms. While he may have been too focused to see, Edge was watching eagerly in the bottom corner with a giant grin forming on his face. His little window closed, leaving Greg in his search.

lostdestiny: Incoming. Edge, would be a really fuckin' great time for you to pull some fuckshit about now!

Explosions rung out in the hallway, and an eruption of bullets soon followed. Greg felt the pressure bearing down on him, he felt heavier, as if the weight of the situation were sitting atop him like boulders. But hidden in the darkness of his room, the black veins crawled higher and higher, across his shoulders and back, creeping up the back of his neck, until he felt a pinch right at the base of his skull. Instant headrush.

The world got blurry in a mere second, his ears started to ring and his muscles began to pulse. Though, in that moment, he felt something else swelling within him: confidence. Control, Shift, C. The boardroom went blue, a glowing yellow aura radiated from behind one of the walls. Greg smiled, bolting to the wall. Alt, D, F7. The shelves shuddered, then slowly retracted into a dark void. The payload sat at the end of a long, dark hallway on a spotlit pedestal. Some crazy mechanical contraption, it seemed. Though he didn't know what it was, he knew inherently that this is what he was looking for. Just as Iron said.

Greg: Bingo.

EdgeRunner: Careful, newbie. Watch the walls.

A single step forward, and red lasers began to shoot left and right. An hour earlier, he'd be pissing himself on an 'exterminated' screen, raging to no one but himself. Though now, as he felt the energy coursing through his body, the corner of his lip shifted upward, his brows furrowed, and he leaned forward. Showtime.

Alt, Shift, F2, Q, L... the keys flew by beneath his fingers as he dodged, rolled, and lept past every sensor. The keyboard could barely keep up as his hands danced across it. It was an invigoration he'd never experienced before, an expertise he'd never felt, a self he'd never known. Every new trap before him was a piece of cake, avoiding them before they'd even triggered. In the span of fifteen seconds, he'd arrived at the pedestal. The Carpe Diem. A major upgrade, far above his current standing, but it would fetch a pretty price for the right punk. The massive implant somehow fit in his inventory, he was thankful he wasn't on a real job, lugging this around would have been a task in and of itself.

Greg: Payload in hand. Ready to get the fuck out of here.

EdgeRunner: Gonna be a messy exit, kid. You up for it?

Greg: Don't have to flirt that nasty with me, Edge. Treat me tender.

He spun around, leaping down the entire hallway in one go. Thank you Shift, T, S. The crew stood at the door to the boardroom, perhaps a hundred grunts firing everything they had not far behind. Greg looked at every corner, and realized quickly what Edge meant. He turned around, looking at the massive glass wall overlooking Sunset City. His massive feet tapped against the wooden floor beneath his desk, itching for the run he was about to embark upon, his body begging for the rush... his muscles aching for the wind on his skin. He smirked. No second thoughts, he burst through the window.

ironclad: Fuck kid! That's one way out I guess!

EdgeRunner: Bail, boys! Let's fly.

Freefalling, Greg felt the cool breeze of his plummet on the lids of his closed eyes. Soon, but not yet. He had a job to finish. Control, Shift, C. His fall became a sprint, every footfall landing softly on the glass below, looking 99 floors straight down to the pavement.

GreWind: WOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOO!

Exhiliration. Excitement. Freedom. He was free. Coasting on the diagonal glass, he surfed down the building until he came painlessly onto the sidewalk below, followed not too far behind by Des landing in a bush, Iron on his face, and Edge on his own two feet. The quartet sped toward the four bikes parked along the street, making their swift getaway. As Wind wiped the sweat from his brow, leaning back in his chair, letting the ripe waft of pits beam from his arms. Incoming 1 on 1 from EdgeRunner. He of course had to reem in the accolades, smiling as he hit accept. Edge popped up in the corner of the screen, beaming from ear to ear.

"Now that's what the fuck I'm talkin' about! That upgrade did ya good, new kid." Wind smirked, puckering his lips and blowing a kiss to his studly boss man.

"You can show me your appreciation later, babe. Worked up a storm for ya." Wind flexed his arms, licking the sweat from his bicep and running his hand through his bright green hair.

"Heh, yeah, you're gonna fit in just fine. This'll fetch a nice penny from the middleman. Now, whaddya say, Greg? Ready for the real work?" Edge winked and his window closed.

EdgeRunner: Rendezvous at Checkpoint's. Your cuts will be waiting for you.

Stormwind: Aye, aye Captain.

lostdestiny: Shit, you two get a room already.

EdgeRunner: Nah, you're gonna sit and watch me fuck him raw and nasty, Des.

Stormwind: Won't be the last if you're nice, Des.

ironclad: I swear, if newbie is gonna be cumdump, I'm gonna be on whatever job he's on.

Stormwind: Plenty to go around, boys. Better be ready to clean this dick and worship these feet. They run real fast for y'all and they could use a tongue bath, won't even need any poppers. Freebase, baby.

EdgeRunner: See you at Checkpoint's, Wind. Welcome to the team.

#male transformation #body transformation #original #transformation #gay transformation #gamer transformation #punk transformation #punkification #criminal tf #male tf #gay tf #virtual transformation #cyber tf #badass transformation #musk

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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 5 months

Text

The Danger Zone (Part 12) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 4.3k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY. MINORS ARE NOT WELCOME HERE

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Military Inaccuracies; Brief and Not Really Explicit Sexual Content; Excessive Fluff; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: You and Jake take a new step in your relationship.

Series Master List

Master List

Jake sat across from Javy out on Javy’s back porch. Phoenix, you, and Emma were out together doing something that Jake was sure had to do with the baby, and leaving Jake and Javy to have a quiet afternoon to catch up between themselves.

“You still don’t know the baby’s gender then?” Javy asked, causing Jake to nod.

“She wanted to wait, and I didn’t mind.”

“But you have an idea, don’t you?” Javy prodded, knowing Jake as he did.

“Yeah, I think that the baby will be healthy and happy.” Tapping his fingers on the table, Jake added, “But I sort of—and you cannot tell her this—want it to be a girl.”

“You want a girl?” Javy repeated, not looking surprised.

“I’d be very happy with a boy. But I feel like a girl, who takes after her mom and looks like her mom, that’s what I keep picturing in my head.” Scratching his chin, Jake looked over at Javy. “The more that kid takes after their mom, the better.”

“How is the future Mrs. Seresin doing anyway?” Javy teased, leaning back in his seat.

“She’s glowing these days, Javy. I swear. She’s absolutely glowing. And she says that the baby is getting more active. Nothing that I can feel yet, but they’re moving around in there. Mostly at night, which I can tell is going to annoy her eventually, but she’s just so happy every time she can feel the baby. And I mean I can see her bump getting bigger every week. I started taking photos of her so that we can track her growth. And I don’t know what it is but when I’m right next to her, I just feel the need to touch her bump and hold it and just be there.”

“Look at you,” Javy chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re smiling more than ever. You’ve got a photo from the ultrasound in your cockpit and in your locker. You spend almost every lunch break calling her. You’re always rushing home to see her.” Javy laughed to himself again. “You’ve gone soft, Jake.”

“Fuck off, Javy,” Jake sighed without malice.

“It’s a good look for you,” Javy defended himself. “I mean, you’re the guy who got his callsign for being selfish, Jake.”

“Yeah, thanks to my kid’s uncle.”

“He’s still not over it?” Javy guessed, reaching for his beer bottle.

“He’ll never get over it,” Jake scoffed with a sense of finality. “Because he’s an idiot who thinks that I took advantage of her and that I’ll do something to hurt or upset her and the baby soon.” Rolling his eyes, Jake added, “He’d probably celebrate if we broke up.”

“I don’t think he’d celebrate . . . in front of her,” Javy added after a moment of thought.

“He can fuck off for all I care. He’s not getting in between the two of us or our family. If he actually cares about his sister, he’d back off.”

“Has he at least reduced his attitude?”

“He never says anything in front of her. I’m pretty sure that Emma and or Penny would actually drop kick him if he did. And he’s not a complete moron. He doesn’t want to stress her out.” Jake took a sip of his beer. “So, he’s just an asshole when she’s not around.”

“I guess that’s an improvement.”

“Barely. I’m not going to deal with this shit when the baby’s old enough to hear his bullshit and sense the tension between the two of us. I mean, what if the baby overheard him saying shit about me? I’d fucking kill him, Javy, I’m telling you that right now. If he wants to be an uncle to my kid, he’s going to have to get over whatever stick is lodged up his ass.”

“Have you talked to her about it?”

“No. I don’t want to stress her out or pick a fight. It’s going really well right now, Javy, and I’ll never forgive myself if I fuck it up over her idiot brother.”

“She’s aware of it, I’m sure. Her and Nat talk about it, I think. And Emma.” Javy rubbed his cheek as an amused smirk tugged at his lips. “My money’s on Penny to kick his ass honestly.”

“I’d pay to see that.”

“So, you guys are talking about the future?”

“Every day,” Jake agreed. “She wants everything sorted out—or as much as possible—before she gets too far into her third trimester.”

“What do you mean by everything?”

“Getting things put in both of our names so that if something happens to one of us, the other can take care of everything and the baby. Getting our wills updated. Discussing who would take care of the baby if her family’s history repeats itself.”

“And how is that going?”

“We were looking for a house because with the cheaper loans I would get, it just makes more financial sense, and we’ll need the space. And as for the baby, it’s a little more complicated right now because we’re not married, but we’re working on it.”

“Can I make an observation?”

“Sure.”

“Why aren’t you guys just getting married?” Javy asked, causing Jake to pause. “Because a lot of this work would be done if you just signed a piece of paper at town hall. And you’d get benefits, she’d save a shit ton on medical expenses, and there’s no big fight in the hospital if something happens to one of you.” Javy added after a moment, “A huge part of why Nat and I got married was so that if a bird strike or G-LOC situation happened again, the other could actually get information from the hospital and make decisions.”

“I know,” Jake sighed, rubbing his face. “I was thinking about that.”

“I mean, I get it’s a huge commitment, but you’re already having a baby together. Getting married can’t be a bigger commitment than that.”

“Yeah, it’s not,” Jake agreed, leaning back in his seat. “I’ve been thinking about bringing it up to her.”

“Well, did you at least tell her about your family?”

“Javy—”

“—Jake, you’ve got to tell her.”

“I’m just trying to protect her.”

“Leaving her without all of the information is not protecting her, Jake, it’s setting her up for failure. At least tell her about your mother.”

“Why my mother?”

“Because it explains a lot about you, Jake,” Javy stated, causing him to look down. “And she likes you, for some reason.”

“Fuck off,” Jake sighed, reaching for his beer. Taking a long sip, he set the bottle down and rotated it around, lost in thought for a moment. “I’ll tell her about it. When the time’s right.”

~~~~~

You woke late on Saturday. You were never an early riser before but pregnancy made waking up early on the weekend impossible. Picking your head off of your pregnancy pillow, which Jake bought for you, you turned to see that Jake was gone, as usual.

But when you saw a note on his pillow, you sat up. You picked it up and unfolded the paper, smiling to yourself when you saw Jake’s handwriting.

Get your rest because I made plans for us tonight. I still owe you that first date.

- J

Practically beaming with joy, you laid back down, thinking to yourself about what Jake could have had planned for tonight. You assumed dinner, at least, but he hadn’t mentioned anything to you about where he would take you on a date. As you were rereading the note, you heard the front door open and Jake step inside. You waited for him to walk into the bedroom and smiled at him.

“Morning. How was your run?”

“Fine. Took a new route through the park,” Jake replied, kneeling on the bed and leaning over to press a kiss to your lips. Moving your shirt out of the way, he pressed another kiss to your bump. “Any movement this morning?”

“Not yet,” you replied, running a hand through Jake’s hair as you smiled softly m. “They only start to move when it’s inconvenient for me.”

“Yeah, that’s my baby in there,” Jake joked, causing you to shake your head at him.

“So, what are we doing later then?”

“It’s a surprise,” Jake stated, getting off of the bed. “I was thinking that we should leave here around five.”

“You’re not going to tell me anything about it?”

“Dress nicely but nothing crazy. And just make sure that you’re comfortable.”

“That doesn’t narrow it down,” you called after him as he walked into the bathroom to shower.

“It wasn’t supposed to.”

You scoffed at his words as he closed the door. Laying down, you decided to stay in bed a little longer as Jake showered. But you sat up when you felt your baby start to move right over your bladder. It started as a little bit of a tickle and then some more discomfort and then you were shifting around, trying to find some sort of relief, and then you were frantically knocking on the door to the bathroom and letting yourself in.

Jake turned his neck, staring at you with concern and a question on the tip of his tongue. But when he saw you making a beeline for the toilet, he had the audacity to smirk a bit. You shot him a look right back.

“The baby’s moving?” he guessed, letting the hot spray of the shower hit his chest.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m trying to concentrate.”

~~~~~

You checked your appearance one last time in the mirror before you grabbed your phone and walked out of the bathroom. Jake was sitting on the couch, waiting patiently for you, dressed in a nice button down tee shirt and a pair of black pants. When you stepped around the corner, he looked up and you instantly felt your cheeks warm as his expression changed and his sharp green eyes studied your figure.

“Does the dress make my boobs pop out too much?” you asked, adjusting the strap a bit subconsciously. “Or is it too nice? Or not nice enough?”

“You look perfect,” Jake told you, standing up and sliding his phone into his back pocket. He walked over to you and grabbed your hands, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Ready to go?”

You nodded and Jake led you down to the car. Jake drove your car when the two of you were going somewhere because it was easier for you to get into compared to his truck. And he insisted that it was safer for you to sit in the passenger seat.

“Where are we going?” you asked Jake, who smiled at you before turning back to the road.

“It’s a surprise.”

“How far is it?” you asked, shifting in your seat.

“It’s not too far.”

Jake drove a few more minutes before pulling into a long driveway. And even though you recognized the name at the entrance to the driveway, it still took you a moment to process it.

“Why did you bring me to the place where Bradley and Emma’s wedding reception was?” you asked softly, more surprised than anything else.

“Well, when it’s not just for hosting weddings. There’s a regular restaurant attached to it.” Jake pulled into a spot before turning off the car. “And this is where we met for the first time.” Pulling the keys out of the ignition, he turned back to you. “Is that okay?”

“Of course, it is,” you reassured him, resting a hand on his arm. “I was just surprised, that’s all.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, let’s go,” you insisted, grabbing your purse.

The two of you walked inside and were led to your table, which just happened to be on the back patio. You could see the outdoor bar where you and Jake met for the first time from your seat. Had anyone told you that little conversation on those two stools was going to change your life forever, you never would have believed them.

“You know, I’ve already made a list of everything I want to eat or drink after I have the baby,” you stated, flipping through the menu.

“What are the top three?”

“Beer, salmon rolls, and pepperoni,” you listed off quickly, causing Jake to snort.

“All in one sitting?”

“We’ll see how I’m feeling,” you mused, reaching for your water. The waiter came over and took your orders before walking off again. “Emma called me today and mentioned something about throwing a baby shower for us next month. Or a little after that.”

“Do the dads go to that?” Jake asked, causing you to shrug your shoulders.

“I think we can just do whatever we want. I know that when one of the Kazansky kids had their baby shower, the guys went out and did something together but then they came back and everyone ate together.”

“Whatever you want, we’ll do,” Jake offered, causing you to smile.

“Thank you. But Emma and Phoenix seem like they’ve got it handled. They said it’s returning the favor for me being their maid of honor. And I kind of agreed to let them make it all a surprise.”

“We’re not doing some crazy gender reveal thing, right?” Jake deadpanned.

“No, I told them to not do that,” you chuckled, leaning back in your seat. Folding your hands in front of your bump, you asked, “But you’re okay with waiting still? To find out?”

“The baby’s healthy and you’re healthy and that’s all I care about,” Jake stated seriously. “And it’s not like we can control it either.”

“No, we can’t,” you agreed, nodding slowly. “But what do you think? Are we having a boy or a girl?”

“I haven’t really thought about it,” Jake lied, earning a look from you. “Alright, alright, I have. But what do you think we’re having?”

“No, because you’re just going to copy me to try and make me happy, even though I don’t care because we’re just guessing at this point and no one can do anything to change it and it doesn’t even matter at the end of the day.” Leaning forward, you added with a smile, “Just tell me, Jake.”

“I think we’re having a girl,” Jake stated quietly after a moment of thought.

“I thought we were too, but then the obstetrician moved the monitor during the ultrasound and now I think that we’re having a boy,” you explained, causing Jake to think about it more. “Like she saw something there and moved it away before it was too obvious.”

“Maybe,” Jake agreed. “But I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

He took a sip of his drink before leaning forward with a teasing smile. You cocked an eyebrow as you buttered your slice of bread, shooting him a look right back.

“How are you feeling now? Feel the need to walk in on me in the shower again? Because next time, you can just join me. No need to put on a show about it.”

You scoffed and tossed the crumpled up straw wrapper at Jake in retaliation. A smirk tugged at your lips as you leaned forward and lowered your voice.

“Says the man who’s been glancing down at my chest ever since I stepped out of our bedroom.”

“I’m looking at your bump where our child is growing,” Jake insisted seriously, causing your smirk to fade and a sheepish expression to come over your face. “But, my eyes have been taking a pit stop between your bump and your eyes because that dress does make your breasts look perfect.”

You lightly kicked him under the table in retaliation, causing him to laugh. The two of you enjoyed your dinner together and talked all about your plans for the future and the baby. It was a first date on paper, but it was obvious to anyone who looked over at you that there was a long history and strong understanding between the two of you. Jake paid the tab—though you tried to grab it from him—before the two of you got up and walked out to the parking lot.

“So, what do you think?” Jake asked as the two of you threaded your fingers together and slowly swung your hands back and forth. “Will I get a second date?”

“I’ll think about it,” you joked, leaning on Jake as you walked.

“You’ll think about it?” Jake repeated as the two of you got closer to your car.

“Well, it’s only the first date,” you added, shrugging your shoulders and laughing to yourself when you saw Jake’s offended look. “Maybe if you’re a decent kisser, I’ll think about it a little more.”

“Is that a challenge?” Jake asked, gently reaching up to cup your cheek.

“It could be.”

Jake leaned down and tilted your chin up, bringing you in for a soft kiss. He started slowly, teasing you like you teased him a moment ago. And when you started to press against him, deepening the kiss, you could practically feel Jake’s smirk against your lips. Pulling back from your lips, and leaving you wanting more, Jake took a step back.

“And my chances now?”

“I guess I can give you a second date,” you replied before grabbing Jake by the front of his shirt.

Your lips met again and Jake rested his hand on your hips, gently backing you up against your car. He rubbed his hand over the front of your bump before raising it to cup your cheek, purposefully brushing his fingertips against the sensitive skin of the valley between your breasts. And feeling you suck in a breath and press against him further, Jake pulled your lips apart and rested his forehead against your own.

“Any chance that we can continue this back at the apartment?” Jake whispered against your lips.

“I’d love to,” you replied softly, before smirking to yourself. “But I can’t.”

“Why not?” Jake asked, sounding concerned.

“I have this rule,” you teased, leaning back against your car, “that I can’t sleep with a guy after the first date. It’s nothing personal, just one of my rules.”

“And if the guy already got you pregnant? Can you make an exception?”

“Hmm,” you hummed, running a hand down his chest.

You held him in suspense for a moment, even though you honestly wouldn’t have minded if he slid your underwear to the side and done it against your car right then and there. And even though you enjoyed teasing him, you wanted him. You needed him.

Placing your hand over his own, you offered him a genuine, loving smile. You leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

“Take me to bed, Jake,” you whispered to him.

“Yes, ma’am.”

When the two of you eventually got back to your shared apartment, you let Jake pull you down the hall and into your bedroom. The two of you gently undressed each other before Jake helped you up and onto the bed.

“You’re not going to be comfortable on your back, are you?” Jake asked as you sat back on your heels.

��Probably not for long,” you agreed as Jake climbed up onto the bed too.

“Then come here,” Jake coaxed, laying on his back.

You crawled over and Jake grabbed your hips, lining the two of you up. Your bump, which wasn’t so small anymore, rested against Jake’s strong chest.

“Tell me if anything hurts or isn’t comfortable and we’ll stop, okay?” he assured you.

“Okay.”

You let out a shaky gasp as Jake pulled your hips down. His hands were strong on your hips and he welcomed the rock of your hips against him. You were a bit worried about suffocating Jake and tried to hold up your weight, but he didn’t slow down until you practically collapsed against his chest.

Jake gently rolled you onto your side and laid down beside you, gently running his fingers down your cheek. You looked up at him through your eyelashes and offered him a giddy smile.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly.

“Yeah, Jake,” you giggled, “I’m better than alright.”

“I haven’t lost my touch then?”

“Not yet,” you mused, pressing a romantic kiss to his lips.

After taking a moment to recover, you sat up and climbed onto his lap. Jake rested his back against the headboard, letting you set your own pace with his hands there to support you. As your rhythm started to slow until you could only rock your hips, Jake gently rotated the two of you so that your bump rested against a pillow and your weight rested on your hands and knees before he sat up behind you.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Jake told you.

“It’s not enough right now,” you practically whined, pushing back against him.

Jake rolled his hips forward as his lips pressed a searing kiss against your neck, causing you to moan. The two of you quickly lost yourselves in each other until your body tensed up again. You buried your face into the comforter as your body shook. Jake kept moving above you for a few more moments before he let out a low noise and rolled over beside you.

You smiled at him as he laid down and caught his breath. Your eyes fluttered softly in the dim lighting as curled your body into Jake’s warm chest. He could see that you were exhausted and were probably about to fall asleep. Jake leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“You should go to the bathroom first before you fall asleep,” Jake suggested, causing you to open your eyes and look up at him. “I can clean up otherwise.”

“Let my legs recover for a second, Seresin. Unless, you want a Bambi on ice situation.”

Jake snorted in reply, causing you to smile.

~~~~~

When Jake got called into Cyclone’s office after completing his training exercises, Jake knew that meant two things—he either fucked up or he did something incredibly amazing. And he couldn’t think of anything that he fucked up lately, so he was hoping that the latter was true.

“Sir,” he greeted Cyclone, standing at attention.

“At ease, Hangman. Please, sit,” Cyclone stated, gesturing to the seat in front of his desk.

Jake sat down and stared at Cyclone, who seemed relatively at ease. He shifted a few papers around his desk before picking up a folder. Cyclone held it out to Jake, who immediately flipped it open, reading through the documents enclosed.

“Congratulations, Lieutenant Commander Seresin,” Cyclone replied, causing Jake to look up from the paperwork. His expression didn’t give away any emotion, but internally Jake was swelling with pride and joy. “It’s well deserved and I’m sure that you’ll do well in your new role.”

“And I’m to remain here?” Jake asked, looking quickly through the papers. “In Miramar?”

“Yes, you will,” Cyclone replied, allowing Jake to relax for a moment. But only for one moment. “Though, I should warn you that your chance of being deployed in the next few months has slightly increased.”

“How slight?”

“I would say guaranteed at some point within the next six months,” Cyclone answered honestly, causing Jake’s joy to disappear in a flash. “Not that it would be for an extended deployment, but you’ll certainly be on a short list, Hangman.”

“I understand, sir,” he stated, looking down at his paperwork.

A note of silence passed between them and Cyclone leaned back in his seat, folding his hands in front of him. Glancing at photos of his own family, Cyclone turned back to Hangman, who was reading through the paperwork in front of him.

“Hondo tells me that your girlfriend is expecting,” Cyclone continued, causing Jake to nod in confirmation, though he kept his gaze focused on the paperwork. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I wish that I could offer you a guarantee, Hangman. Any sort of guarantee.”

“That’s not the industry that we’re in, sir,” Jake replied simply, picking his head up. “I understand that. She understands that.”

“The promotion ceremony is in two weeks. Saturday,” Cyclone responded after a few moments. “I look forward to meeting her then.”

“Yes, sir.”

~~~~~

You walked into your and Jake’s apartment building, and stopped to grab your mail. Unlocking the small mailbox, you pulled the door open and grabbed the small batch of envelopes. You walked over to the elevator as you flipped through them, mentally organizing them.

Bill. Spam. Spam. Bill. More spam. Even more spam. And . . .

You paused, looking at the last envelope. It was blue and shaped like a card, though it wasn’t close to either of your birthdays. Flipping it over, you paused when you saw that the return address was in Texas. And the name Georgia Seresin had to be Jake’s mom’s name, wouldn’t it?

Jake got a card from his mom.

Though you thought it was weird, especially because Jake swore up and down that he didn’t talk to his parents, you brushed it off. It wasn’t addressed to you, so it wasn’t yours to open. You would just tell Jake about it when he got home.

Taking the elevator up, you headed into your apartment. Setting the mail down in the corner, you walked over to the couch and flopped down, exhausted from your day. Turning on the fan that Jake set up on the coffee table for you, you laid down and scrolled through your phone.

And then promptly fell asleep a minute later.

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huhniebowl · 1 year

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A Dare’s a Dare

Elliot x Reader

Warnings: Smutty smut smutt & also a try at some plot...pray he never sees this

a/n: whew...hey guys. long time no SEE! it’s been a hot minute & i’m so sorry about that. please accept this gift as an apology...i didn’t even mean to make this so long, & i definitely still need to make corrections, but alas, here we are. please enjoy & maybe leave a comment? i love reading your guys reactions/thoughts! :)

a/a/n: wait, also, can we talk about cochella? because i was SAT! mama’s boy is already my favoritee.

One of the lightbulbs in the bathroom flicker as you lean down to sniff a line of coke off the porcelain sink. Then it blows out. You told Elliot weeks ago that it needed to be replaced, but as usual, his “I’ll get to it.” gets lost in all the other bullshit he spews.

Throwing your head back, you scrunch your nose and sniff. Not yet used to the burn.

Unrolling the five-dollar bill, you shake it out and shove it in your pocket. He left it in the bathroom for you anyway. You do a quick sweep around to make sure there’s nothing that can show what’s been going on in there, swipe the powder off your tight long sleeve, and walk out.

The music that was once muffled behind the door is now clear as you sway to the beat on your way back into Elliot’s room, Jules and Rue sitting on his bed with a joint between Rue’s lips.

“Ooo, that the vanilla backwood–” You start, then stop when warm hands grab your face, and your lips are pressed against another pair. It happens so fast that you barely have time to process it before the warm body moves away. You stumble and look up.

Elliot.

“That wasn’t 10 seconds,” Jules calls out, leaning into Rue. They’re going straight to hell if you have any say in it. Though considering the life choices you’ve all made from the moment you crossed paths, you’ll be right there with them. Elliot too.

“You’ve never really kissed a girl before, huh, Elly?” Rue mocks, lighting the blunt.

Elliot leans over and whispers in your ear, “Let me keep my dignity, and I’ll let you keep my five in your pocket.” Damn. Touché.

You shrug and nod, reaching to grab his face and pull him forward. You’re too high for this shit.

“Start the clock.” Elliot points, looking at Rue before meeting your lips in a heavy kiss. He wraps his arms around your waist and pushes you against the nearest wall.

Your heart is going well over the average beat per minute, and for once, you can honestly say it wasn’t because of the line you just did. You’ve wanted Elliot since the day Rue introduced you to him. Charming, snarky, sarcastic. Qualities right out of your manifestation journal.

The both of you clicked immediately as if you’d been a past connection. Got even closer as the year went on.

You once considered confessing. Telling him you wanted the title of being his and him yours. But that long since died out the closer you became. You’d rather him a friend than nothing.

So every girl he's ever brought up, fucked, confided in you about, you sat there and took it. Shoving down what you felt and ranting it all out to Rue and Jules until you felt good enough to shove it down again. You thought you were doing pretty good, well, until now, since his hands are squeezing your hips and his mouth is hot on yours. You’re more than sure your pussy rivals Niagara Falls right now.

You know this is some fucked up dare on Jules's part nonetheless, and you really shouldn’t enable her, but fuck it.

It’s just a kiss.

So you melt into him, let your hands slide from his face, and rest one on the back of his neck and the other in his curls. You accidentally give them a harsh tug when Elliot pulls back a little to suck at your bottom lip while slipping a warm hand into your sweats to grope your ass.

At the same time you whimper, he huffs out a hoarse ‘fuck’ against your lips at the tug. You open your eyes and pull back just a bit to see he’s already looking at you. Desperation is evident on his face, and his chest heaving just as much as yours. His eyes dart back down to your lips, and you can tell he’s about to go in for another kiss. You just about meet him halfway until your drug-muddled brain processes that you both aren’t alone. The harsh shrill of Jules yelling out shatters the atmosphere.

“10!” You jump, and Elliot freezes, dropping his head onto your shoulder, as his shake with laughter. Unfortunately, the new position leaves you face to face with your friends looking at you with a smugness you want to punch. You throw up your middle finger.

“We literally yelled out 10 a good zillion times. You two were practically fucking in front of us.”

You roll your eyes and push Elliot off when you feel him start to leave soft kisses up your neck, afraid you might actually jump him in front of company if he keeps going. Besides, that wasn’t part of the dare.

“You’re so fucking horny.” You groan, sliding down on the carpet, still trying to catch your breath. Elliot grins and takes the joint from Rue.

“Sorry, but I couldn’t go out like that. A dare’s a dare.”

You grumble and try to ignore the ripple of hurt that rides through you. For a split second, you let yourself believe that maybe the kiss was of hidden motive. Despite it being a dare, you hoped there was at least some truth behind his touches.

Suddenly you hate your friends for the dare, but more so yourself for letting the strong wall you built fall the second he unknowingly dove into your hidden desire.

Your response was a bit delayed, a dry laugh as you reached out for the joint. Closing your eyes and letting your head thump against the wall after your pull.

Fuck.

Time goes by, and your high eventually fades. Rue and Jules left when Jules’s dad began calling about her whereabouts. You stayed behind with Elliot, you two in the middle of a movie when your friends decided to go.

When the credits roll, you glance at your phone. Two am.

“Can I stay the night?” You ask, looking up from your phone. Your stomach swirls when you notice he’s already looking in your direction. Stare intense, and you wonder how long he was staring in the first place.

“It’s pretty late, and I really don’t feel like going home.” You know he’ll say yes, so you quickly text your sister and toss your phone.

“Yeah, sure,” He rolls over and stretches, “You know where everything is to shower and shit.”

You nod and roam around his room for a shirt and a clean pair of boxers.

“You don’t already have a hookup planned for tonight, do you? Cause that would suck.” You laugh under your breath, turning on his orange lamp. Your back faces him while you move around, and you notice he’s silent. Too long for a joke. Not even a scoff. You turn around and see him on the edge of his bed, hands running down his face.

“I stopped those a while ago.” You raise your eyebrows and shuffle in your spot. The air goes tense, and you don’t like it. So you try to shift it.

“What? Ran out of girls in the area?” Your smile drops as soon as it starts when he looks up at you in annoyance. A look that’s never been directed to you.

“No, I got tired of fucking people who didn’t give a fuck about me.” You’re immediately swallowed by guilt. You cross your arms and stop shuffling.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Elliot. I didn't mean it like that.” He waves you off and gets up to grab a clean towel.

"Mhm." He walks out to his vacant cousins' ensuite bathroom and slams the door. You jump in your spot and groan. Muttering to yourself on your way toward his bathroom.

You brush your teeth once you’re showered and dressed. His boxers rolled down to fit your hips. His shirt smells like him, and you find yourself bringing it up to your nose any chance you get.

Spitting out the toothpaste, you rinse your mouth and stare at yourself in the mirror. Eyes trailing down to your neck and remembering how Elliot’s lips softly moved up that sensitive part of your skin hours ago. You wonder what would have happened if you didn’t push him away.

Would he have kept going despite having company? Bite down? You shudder, shaking your head and gripping the sink. You've stayed over at his place before, but this feels different. Something is looming over the two of you, and you don’t know if you like it.

You give yourself a dramatic thumbs up in the mirror and walk towards his room. The orange light from before is off, and a dim glow emits instead. He turned on his string lights.

The ones you got him for his birthday last year. You smile to yourself and see Elliot cross-legged on his bed, rolling another joint.

He doesn’t acknowledge you, rightfully so. But it still doesn't make you feel good. You lean on his door frame and watch his fingers skillfully pearl the backwood. You know he knows you’re staring at him, but he doesn’t make a move to say anything.

Your eyes move up to his mouth, fixating on how he uses his tongue to lick the seam of the rolling paper. His eyes flick up while doing so and lock with yours. Your breath hitches, and you watch as he trails down your body before making eye contact again. You divert your attention elsewhere, clicking your acrylics against each other.

Elliot sighs, and you hear him place his rolling tray on his desk.

“You just gonna stand there or help me smoke this?” A silent peace offering.

You stay by the doorway, still a little unsure, watching Elliot place the blunt between his lips and lie on his back, holding his lighter out to you.

“Light me.”

You huff and push off the frame, crawling on his bed and taking a seat on his window seal. The square cut out big enough for you to comfortably sit in. You grab the lighter from his hands and spark it, leaning forward to light his spliff.

“Elliot, I’m—” Once again, his eyes meet yours, and your words die in your throat. You’re closer to him than before. His curls are still damp and loose, framing his face. Skin soft and dewy from skincare, and the amber glow from the flame.

He’s so fucking beautiful. Being this close, your thumbs itch to rub over his apple tattoo; then over his eyebrows, then gently use the pad to pull down his plump bottom lip to watch it bounce back into place.

They’re loosely holding on to the vanilla backwood, pink and soft. You want to kiss him again. Taste the flavored remnant that undoubtedly coats his lips the longer the joint sits there.

Elliot shuffles, and you snap out of your revere, clearing your throat. You quickly light his joint as you feel the lighter wheel heat up under your thumb. Then continue your apology.

“I'm really sorry for earlier. What I said was fucked up.”

“Yeah, you think?” He’s being sarcastic, but once again, deserved.

“At least the sex you’ve had meant something. They don’t just fuck off after.” Elliot takes a long pull and hands it over to you.

“Who would’ve thought me, of all people, craved intimacy during and after a fuck.” He gives a dry laugh and blows out.

“Eh, I wouldn’t say that.” Elliot looks over at you. “The guys I fucked were only interested in me for that reason. A fuck.” After a pull, you let your head rest against the wall, “Led me to believe it would be something more, then left with a half-assed sentiment once I gave them what they really wanted. Never even cummed for a guy.”

You shrug, then blow out the smoke before continuing. “So I guess we’re on the same boat then, huh?”

You look over at Elliot, his face unreadable. Silence falls over you both like a thick blanket as you pass the joint between each other. You let him get the last hit, holding it out for him lean up and take a pull.

He crosses his legs and puts his hands behind his head, eyes lidded and red as he watches you snuff out the blunt and toss it out the window. You suppose your eyes don’t look too far off from that too.

His voice, although soft, jumps you out of the silence.

“You’re more than just a fuck.” You suddenly find it hard to breathe.

“You too, Elliot.” You whisper, scared to break the atmosphere you two have made. He’s quiet for a moment before continuing.

“I wouldn’t treat you that way. At least with me, you’d cum.”

Your heart damn near stops, and you inhale at his words. He reaches a hand out to your ankle; the pads of his fingertips cool as they rub at the warm skin over the bone. Mindlessly playing with your anklet, you shiver as his hand moves to caress your calf.

He shuffles closer to you, and your thighs quiver at the new tension. You can’t process what’s happening anymore. What’s real, and what’s fake.

Being high blinds the practicalness you usually have when it comes to Elliot, making everything regarding him, sugar-coated. Elliot’s processing through your brain like he’s a wad of sugary cotton candy, and you’re feigning for it bad.

It’s why you feel your body mindlessly moving on its own as you climb down from his window and over to him. You straddle his hips, and his hands slide under your shirt like clockwork.

He’s close enough to where his breath fans over your lips, he’s focused on them until he catches your gaze. “I know I can give you what you need.”

You nod, letting out a shaky breath when your clothed clit barely rubs at his dick, poking under his sweats. His body reacts to prove his words right.

“So, please, can I make you cum?” He doesn’t need to ask twice.

“God, yes, Elliot.” And just like earlier, his lips are on yours. It has your pussy puddled in seconds. It’s slow, wet, and sounds lewd even in your ears.

Just as you guessed, there’s a faint taste of vanilla, and it has you whimpering. Your moans filter in soon after when he grabs your hips and pulls them down, pussy rubbing against his hard-on.

He’s harder than earlier, and it feels too good; it has you jolting up. His groan is guttural, sending spikes of pleasure through you like no other. You swallow the sound and let him flip you both over.

“Wanted this for so fucking long.” He breathes, leaving kisses down your neck. You don’t know what to say. Still not comprehending this is happening, let alone someone you’ve been yearning for admitting that he has been too.

He moves back to yank off his shirt, and you’re whining out to him before you can stop yourself. Needing him back against you. Elliot chuckles at your neediness, returning for a kiss that barely leaves you in touch with reality.

“Take this off for me?” He whispers, tugging on your shirt. You pull it off and bring him back down, his hands running over your newly exposed skin. Fingers brushing over your tits.

“Can I?” His voice is strained, composure just short of being lost.

“Yeah.” You breathe, feeling him kiss down your chest until his warm mouth suctions onto your nipple.

You curse out and arch off the bed, running a hand through his hair and gripping it hard. He groans against you, his dick pressing harder against your thigh as he ruts himself into your soft skin. Desperate for friction.

You don’t realize how much he’s getting off to this until you bring yourself to look down and see his eyes closed. His lips suctioned around your right nipple, his fingers rolling the bud of the left one. He’s in a state of bliss, so lost in himself. He pops off and moves to the other, tongue flicking over your nipple in a way you wish was on your clit.

“Elliot, please.” You whine, pussy gushing yet again when you feel him grind harder at you saying his name.

“Please, what?” He moves off your nipple and lays his head on your stomach. Looking up at you while his fingers replace where his mouth once was.

“Need you.” You can’t say it; you won’t. You’re more than sure he knows where you want him. You can tell when you hear him huff a laugh.

“You’re going to have to tell me where.” You quiver when you feel his fingers rub over the drenched spot on your boxers. His boxers.

“It’s here? You need me here, right? You really drenched my boxers, didn’t you?”

“Yes, right there. Please, please.” You whine, unable to feel embarrassed. Not when he has you this worked up.

“See. Not so hard.” He muses, sliding them off and slowly pushing your legs apart.

“Fuck, look at you.” He whispers. “So pretty and so wet. Just for fucking me.” He looks up at you, “Anyone ever made you this wet?”

You shake your head. “No, just you. Only you.” Elliot’s in awe, someone like you all glistening and needy for him. It's like he’s on a power trip. “Can I record eating your pussy?”

Your mind is too sugar-coated for you to think straight, your trust and reliability around Elliot allowing it to be as such. A question like that from anyone else would have had you shriveling up in disgust. But with Elliot? You find yourself pliant. Ready to let him do anything he wanted to you.

“Your words.” He murmurs, his fingers pressing down on your clit to watch your juices spread.

You squeal at the pressure, “Yes, yes!”

“Good girl.” He feels around for his phone. You hear the start of the video and through lidded eyes, see him shining the camera flash on your soaked folds.

“Looks even prettier in the light.” You’re not sure if he’s talking to you or the camera, but your pussy visibly clenches at his words, and he chuckles.

“Can you spread yourself for me?”

He was going to be the death of you, you’re sure of it.

Obediently, you slide your pretty fingers to your cunt, and slowly open yourself up to him with your pointer and middle finger. You hear the sticky sound your pussy makes as you reveal your clit to him, the jewels on your acrylics glinting under the flash.

“Fuck.” He breathes out your name, zooming in. “Keep it there.” He says, reaching his thumb to rub slow circles on your clit.

“Elly!” You whine, thighs trembling. He hands you his phone without a word, eyes not tearing away from your pussy. With a shaky hand, you take it and position it so he’s in frame.

“Hold still.”

“Oka–Shit, Elliot!” You cry, his tongue flicking your clit before you can finish. His eyes are closed, lapping you up like he's starved. You want to close your eyes, too lost in the overwhelming feeling of everything, Elliot. But he told you to hold still.

So you look down in the camera to make sure he’s still within frame and almost cum right there. He’s looking up into the camera, right at you. It has your stomach clenching and pussy throbbing under his tongue.

“Feels so good, Elly, don’t stop.” You cry out. He keeps a hand firmly on your thigh to keep them open and brings the other to rub circles on your clit. He moves down and shoves his tongue inside. Tongue fucking you and eliciting the only sound he wants to hear from you.

You let out a moan so pretty it has Elliot’s dick harder than ever, and he falters in his movements for a second. Pulling back to leave quick, and messy kisses to your pretty fingers for holding yourself open for him.

“M’ gonna cum!” You squeal, dropping the phone to grip his sheets. You could feel it; you were about to snap. And you’re so desperate for it. Desperate to cum for him.

He pulls back for a quick second, “Come on, baby, you can do it. All over my face, come on.” Then he quickly flicks the tip of his tongue back on your clit.

You reach both hands down to grip his hair, “Yes, like that; stay there, stay there!” You cry, toes curling when Elliot does as you say.

That’s all you need. The white-hot coil snaps, and you scream Elliot’s name, cumming harder than you believed possible. Head thrown back as one of your hands squeeze the pillow under your head, the other still holding a tight grip on Elliot’s hair. Knuckles white.

Your legs tremble, and your chest stutters. Elliot watches it all in a daze. He didn’t know someone could look so fucking beautiful while cumming. You look dewy, a thin sheet of sweat coating your body. The woman right out of his wet dreams.

He did that to you, it was all him, and it has him moaning into your sensitive cunt. Causing your body to quiver.

“Fuck Elliot.” You breathe, pawing his greedy mouth off you and back to your lips. You taste yourself on him and sigh.

“So good. So so good.” He mumbles, moving to bite at your collerbones. You wrap a arm around his shoulders, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Thank you, Elly, thank you, thank you.” You whimper, feeling so raw. So bared with him. You’re holding his face in your hand, overwhelmed with how he’s staring at you. Like you hung the stars and the planets. Like you’re wholeheartedly the only reason for his existence, and you almost can’t take it.

“Wanna make you feel good.” You whisper, reaching down between your bodies and wrapping your hand around his cock. He breathes through his nose and drops his head into your neck.

“Yes, please.” His voice is thick and coarse. You don’t respond, lining yourself up with him and squeezing his arm, letting him know to slip in.

“Fuck fuck.” Elliot grits out, as he slowly pushes, his hands on either side of your head. You gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck and locking your legs around his waist.

Once he bottoms out, you clamp down on him. He stays still, trying to pull himself together not to cum yet.

He feels helpless, losing himself in the heat of your pussy like this. Never has he been reduced to a mess like this before.

“Gonna need you to relax, baby, or I’m gonna cum before I get to fuck you properly.” He rasps. You pepper kisses over his shoulder and run your fingers through his hair. Willing yourself to calm down. You feel so full, the pleasure tingling up your spine and throughout your body.

“Elly, please move.” You whimper, desperate to feel him. He keeps himself buried in your neck, his grip on the blankets tightening.

You’re just about to beg again when Elliot decides to snap his hips. You choke on your words and lock your ankles tighter over each other. His pace is quick but deep, the tip of his dick abusing that spongy spot you can never reach.

Your walls flutter around him, so warm and soft, and he needs more.

He’s pussy drunk, panting into your skin at how you’re squeezing him in so perfectly, greedy to milk him for all he has.

“S’pussy was made for me, just for me.” He mutters.

You can’t find your voice. Eyes rolling to the back of your head and mouth open as Elliot fucks you into the mattress with all he has. Your nails dig into his back, and he hisses at the sting.

You find yourself gasping for air when he pulls up from your neck, his face flushed and his baby hair curling at his forehead.

“Kiss me, plea—.” You whimper, and he’s already moving to your lips before you finish. It’s sloppy, more a meeting of spit and tongue than a kiss, but you’re high off it.

You’re going to cum again, and Elliot can tell, by the way your pussy is tightening around him.

He can feel your cunt drooling, his precum mixing with your arousal, causing a creamy ring around the base of his dick, and the mere sight of it has him higher than he thought possible.

“M’ gonna cum. You gonna come w’me?” He mumbles against your lips, his eyes far away.

You nod, “S’close, Elly.” You grow impatient, moving your hips to match his sloppy pace.

“That’s right, fuck me back, baby.” His voice is hoarse. Completely lost in his lust and need for you. You feel it again, that familiar heat pooling; you’re right there.

It takes one more snap of his hips, and you’re cumming around him hard, eyes shut and mouth open in a silent scream as you cream all over his dick. There’s a ringing in your ears; Elliot sounds far away as he works you through your orgasm while chasing his.

“Cumming, fuck m’gonna cum.” He sounds like a broken record, but he can’t help it.

He’s so lost in the way you’re squeezing around him. So perfect and tight. You hold him as close as possible in your weakened state, making eye contact and fulfilling your thoughts from earlier by pulling down his bottom lip with your thumb.

“Cum inside, Elly. Wanna feel you cum.” And he’s cumming. A resounding whimper works its way up his throat as he paints the inside of your sopping cunt. He goes limp on top of you, kissing you up the valley of your chest, until he softly catches your lips in a slow and lazy kiss. So good, and thank you’s tumbling out his lips.

You feel hot, & sticky but can’t bring yourself to push him off. So you bask in the silence, your nails raking through his scalp as you gather your bearings. You feel yourself spinning, wondering where this leaves you two. If this is the end of your friendship. If he—

“So,” Elliot draws, looking up at you and unknowingly snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Wanna be my girlfriend?” You look down at him and can’t help the laugh that erupts from your throat. Light swatting his head.

Because, of course, this is how Elliot would ask. He smiles, content with how he can feel your chest rumbling under his head, and presses a kiss to your shoulder.

“Yeah, I’ll be your girlfriend, Elly.”

#elliot #elliot smut #elliot fanfic #elliot imagines #elliot imagine #euphoria #euphoria smut #elliot euphoria #elliot euphoria imagine #elliot smut euphoria #dominic fike imagine #dominic fike imagines #dominic fike smut #dominic fike fan fiction #dominic fike fic #elliot fan fiction euphoria #elliot fan fiction #smut

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dear-bunnyboo · 8 months

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐖𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐊𝐄 || 𝐉𝐎𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖

important note: my face claim will be madison beer but you can imagine whoever you desire. also the songs mentioned are not all technically all madison’s i will be incorporating other songs from other artists.

all the pictures seen below are not mine, however they were edited by yours truly. credits to the owners.

and just like that, all hell breaks loose 🫢 (hope this makes you guys temporarily forget that bae played like ass last sunday 🥲)

side note: I am really proud of this chapter. so proud that it might be my current favorite <3

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Joe Burrow x Singer!Reader / Brief Ex!Jack Hughes x Singer!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Can Joe save you when everything comes crashing down?

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst, cursing, haters, rumors, liar!Jack, toxic ex, crying, angry!reader, media, joe being a sweetheart, light fluff, flashback, protective!Joe

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐜. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐍𝐇𝐋 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

This week has been proven to be challenging for you.

Halfway through your tour you have a mandatory rest week as you’d like to call it— not only for yourself but for every single people involved behind the scenes as well, they have been working as hard as you were, if not even more.

You were a workaholic, and a day off is enough for you to get recharged. Which is why you were finding it so hard to get through the week— you were itching to perform. You had to distract yourself with a pen and paper for your own sanity— writing helps release the energy and tension from your body.

It’s only been two days since the rest week started and you were silently going insane. It doesn’t help that Joe just messaged you saying that it was their bye week of the season— you really didn’t know what to do with the information he gave you. You are more closer to Joe now than you were before, from the frequent late night talking, FaceTimes, texting— and you loved it. You just didn’t know what his break had to do with you— until he spells it out for you.

I’m coming over

He texted you this an hour ago. Joe has been over your house before and vice versa— you were continuously teased by Y/BF/N which really wasn’t a surprise to you. Your best friend has declared herself the president of the Joe and Y/N Fanclub and it’s borderline psychotic but you love her anyways.

Again— this week is a challenge.

Joe was coming over and you found yourself wanting to throw up— you had zero clue as to why your stomach was hurting and why your palms were getting clammy. You placed your palm on your forehead, lightly feeling for a fever but with no avail.

You have been refusing the feeling for months now.

You hated it.

It was happening all over again. The same feelings, the same outcomes. It was bullshit.

Those damn butterflies that died that night seemed to resurrect from the dead every time you talked to Joe— every time he laughed and smiled at you the butterflies not only show up but get trampled by a stampede of animals.

Sitting cross legged on your living room sofa as you waited for the quarterback— you looked around your surroundings. Around you was littered with papers with scribbles of your panic writing, your electric guitar discarded right next to you. A ding broke you out of your thoughts and upon looking down on your phone, you see another message form Joe.

I think you’ll really like my surprise, lovebug.

You were gonna throw up— a butterfly is about to come out of your mouth.

Yeah?, well, color me intrigued.

Tossing your phone away from you, you wiped your sweaty hands on you sweatpants and continued writing— you were writing with so much fervor that your handwriting started to look like you were writing a medicine prescription but you understood it.

You understood it.

Lovebug

Joe started calling you lovebug a couple months ago when he came over your house for the first time.

You and Joe were talking animatedly about your favorite SpongeBob episodes on your couch. The two of you just finished watching the first SpongeBob Movie and now you both were just geeking out and giggling about iconic episodes.

“Nothing will top the chocolate episode. Still makes me laugh out loud till this day.” Joe chuckles as he placed his arms on the sofa just behind your head— he wasn’t touching you but you felt the heat of his body by how close you two were sitting. The feeling was somewhat more intimate than actually being touched— it was the longing for it that was getting to you.

“The episode where they performed at the Super Bowl halftime was my favorite! I thought that would be your favorite. Nothing will ever top that.” You bounced on your seat, facing Joe even more now— looking at him like he grew three heads for not picking that episode as his favorite.

The quarterback laughs at you as he watched your eyes grow wide in excitement as you talked about that episode, “Ok, ok! That’s a great one as well, I’m not gonna lie.” He put his hands up in surrender but before you could even reply back to him, you caught sight of something moving from your peripheral vision— turning your head slightly, you spotted a tarantula climbing up your sofa and with no hesitation whatsoever you bolted out of your couch screaming.

Joe looked at you alarmed, immediately standing up and walking towards you slowly in concern, “What’s wrong?” He carefully eyes you with his beautiful baby blues— if it weren’t for the predicament you found yourself in you would have turned red but you didn’t have time for that. You pushed Joe away from you, your eyes still trained on the spider as you directed Joe’s body to face the insect.

“There is a huge spider, Joe!” You whisper-yelled, trying your hardest not to yell as you inched your back towards the wall. Joe, however, turned to look at you with a grin on his face— you gave him a look as he continued to look smug.

“What!?” You scolded him.

“You’re scared of spiders?” He asked in both a concerned and amused tone.

“Gee, Joe— no I’m thrilled. That was me screaming in joy.” You blurted out sarcastically, slightly pushing him towards it again as you hid behind his towering figure, “And that is not a spider, that’s a fucking Pokémon at this point— get it out!”

The blonde, laughed at your attitude— just now meeting this new persona of yours, you’ve always been so sweet to him that this side of you was amusing him. Sassy— he liked it.

“Joseph! Are you just gonna stare at me? Or are you gonna actually help? That thing basically owns the house at this point— please, Joey.” And there it was, the sweet side Joe was just thinking about, Joe shook his head and smiled at you before moving towards the insect.

“You know, it’s also scared, right? We probably look hideous to it as well.” Joe consoles you while you continued to watch him quietly reach his bare hands to catch the spider— which were as big as his hands.

“Congrats, you’re a Disney Princess.” you rolled your eyes at him— there was no convincing you when it comes to spiders.

Joe just let out the biggest laugh at your sassiness, “You’re the funniest person I’ve ever met.”

“I’m here all night.” You stuck your tongue out at him.

He struggled to keep the spider in place as he carefully wrestled it around his palms as the spider stared squirming. You slowly inched closer to the couch now that Joe has reached your front door, “Be careful. Don’t hurt it— I want it out of my house not dead.” You muttered but Joe heard you loud and clear, earning another a warm smile from him.

“Look at you— I thought you were worried about me for a second but it was for the spider. Who’s the Disney Princess now?” Joe winked at you before walking out of the front door to get the spider out.

Joe saunters back in shorty looking smug as if he just wrestled an alligator out of your house. Placing himself next to you back on the couch he looks at you in amusement and before you could give him an attitude— Joe raised his hand up to remove the stray hairs out of your face, your hair slightly disheveled after running for your life.

You remained still as you watched him watch you— Joe was looking at every single part of your face as if he was memorizing every inch of you before muttering something under his breath. It was so low that you missed it.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you asked, “What?” You managed to breath out.

“Lovebug”

His baby blue eyes finally meeting yours. You sat stunned— not knowing where all this was coming from.

“What?” You started to sound like a broken record as you asked him again.

“You’re such a lovebug.” The quarterback shrugged before removing his hand off of your face, now facing your TV as he tries to move on from the situation. Joe must have felt your eyes still on him as you tried to process and understand what he just said— what he was trying to say.

“You’re full of love. You’re such a good person. Just a few months of knowing you and being your friend and I’ve noticed how much love you have to offer— it’s amazing really. You are terrified of spiders but you didn’t want it dead, unlike some people would.” Joe shrugged shoving chips in his mouth as if he didn’t just say the sweetest things to you.

“Joe, that’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. Thank you.”

“It’s true” he nodded at you. “Lovebug is scared of a little bug.” Joe continued to joke earning an exasperated look from you.

“That thing was not little, Joe. It was practically a grown adult.”

You remembered the feeling you felt when he told you those things that night.

You understood how fucked you were.

You understood how this could be another one of your biggest mistakes, you continued writing on the paper— words, phrases, lyrics were spewing out of you as you continued to think about that night— the TV not even distracting you for a second.

You didn’t know why your heart was feeling this way. How it could start beating the way it is as if it wasn’t beaten and bruise— you didn’t understand why this was happening to you.

All of you thought that love off the table.

So why?

The heart is resilient— love is resilient. It can suffer for years, it can be broken and used over and over again, it can be shattered into pieces, it can make you feel numb— but then it surprises you when it flutters again. Flutters from the happiness, the giddiness, excitement, and even love— again, it’s resilient.

You’re brain however, it’s logical. It has stored all the memories; the good, the bad, the traumatic into specific file cabinets— it gathers information from your previous experiences and helps you stop yourself from going through those same experiences again.

Your heart was telling you to go for it while your brain was telling you to let it go. They never seem to listen to each other but they also couldn’t live without each other— the heart and the brain, just another love story.

Your doorbell rang pulling you out of your thoughts. You quickly gathered yourself together before standing up to answer the door— opening your front door, you were met with Joe who has one hand in his pocket while to other one was hiding a paper bag behind his back.

“Hey.” And just like that he single-handedly managed to get the butterflies in your stomach to awaken from their slumber.

Holding to door wide open you gave the man in front of you a smile, “Hey, you.” You greeted Joe before side stepping to let his huge frame in— as he walks in your house you addressed the paper bag clasped in his hand.

“What you got there?” You nodded your head towards the bag, looking up at him in curiosity as he placed himself down on your sofa. Joe took a quick look down at the bag before reaching out to hand it to you.

“It’s the surprise I was talking about.” Joe eyes you up and down, his eyes feeling like lasers as the heat started to build up throughout your body. You simply shook your head as you sat next to him— carefully opening the paper bag.

A peak of yellow was seen— pulling the huge box out you were met with the new Bowser Lego set that you have been looking to buy for a while now; it’s been sold out everywhere. One of the many surprising things that you’ve learned about Joe was that he loved Legos which you found exciting cause you had a mild but concerning obsession with Legos.

You eyed the box with wide eyes before looking up back at Joe who was looking at you amused— you couldn’t contain yourself so you launched yourself on the quarterback and tackled him in a hug.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I don’t know what occasion it is for you to give me a present but I’m not complaining!” You muttered excitingly in the crook of his neck as Joe squeezed you back in return, laughing at your explosive reaction.

“There is no occasion— and I have connections.” He said proudly before slowly scanning the papers scattered in front of him.

You let out an over exaggerated gasp, “You have Lego connections?” your eyes widening even more as you scooted closer to him— all your undivided attention now on him.

Joe nodded as he chuckles at your excitement, “Can I know those people, please?” You begged hoping the man next to you would give you what you asked for.

“I’m your Lego connection. I’ll buy you all the Lego you want— you have me.” Joe answers his eyes still trained on the papers in front of him as he tried his hardest to understand your manic handwriting.

“I do have you. That’s sweet.” You looked down on your lap smiling.

You hate yourself

“You have me.” Joe mutters under his breath.

You hated him.

You hated everything— why is this happening to you?

You hated how easy it is for your heart to love again. You hated how your body reacted to Joe— he could breathe in a weird way and you’d find it cute. You hated how you folded for a man who could easily disregard you like they all did.

You wanted to cry.

You hated how scared you are, it’s almost a year since the cheating scandal happened and you were still scared— you weren’t scared of falling, you were scared of crashing.

Trying your hardest to swallow the lump that formed in your throat, you turned to look at Joe who was quietly trying to read your lyrics— in a flash, your hand swooped down and compiled all the paper towards you.

“Uh uh, these are potential songs— no spoilers for you.” You tutted at him as you arranged the folded and crumpled pieces of papers in your arms.

“I couldn’t read them anyway. You have terrible handwriting, Y/N.” He teased as he eyed you for your reaction which you immediately responded to.

“Hey! I have very pretty handwriting. It just so happens that my brain was spitting out too many ideas at once that my hand couldn’t keep up.” you raised your chin high up— looking up at him, you’re eyebrow raised as to challenge him to disagree with you.

“Alright. I believe you.” The quarterback flicks your chin up with his fingers as he took a quick good look at you— Joe finds himself doing that to you a lot recently.

“Anyway, are we gonna make my baby Bowser? Or not?” You gave him the most childish smile you could muster making Joe smile back at you warmly before smirking, a mischievous look covering his handsome face.

“I thought you were gonna ask if we we’re gonna make a baby.” A huge grin twitching to form on his face and in turn you remained still looking at the man in front of you with wide eyes— your mouth opening and closing however, words weren’t coming out of your mouth.

“Maybe next time, lovebug.” Joe continued which shocked you even more. You had never expected that Joe Burrow would be like this prior to meeting him— he looks like such a serious man who means nothing but business. In fact, before meeting him you were sure that he had zero personality, you doubted it’s existence. You were so sure that football was his only personality trait, but now here he was making sex jokes— or was he flirting?

“Joseph Lee Burrow!” You yelled at him before smacking him on the shoulder with the box you were holding— the contents moving around making clanking noises inside the unopened box.

“Ow! I’m joking— but yeah, let’s make your baby Bowser.” He jokingly mocks you while he rubbed his shoulder that you had just hit.

That’s how you found yourselves the next couple of hours— playing with Legos.

You two were sat on the ground on the carpet, finding it more comfortable to work there than your expensive couch. The two of you worked in silence— unless when you two found yourselves singing along the songs in Joe’s playlist.

The bass to Future’s song Codeine Crazy was blasting in your speakers as you and Joe finished Bowser’s legs— you were bobbing your head to the beat as you mindlessly danced in your spot, your eyes solely focused on the manual in front of you— you were too focused that you failed to notice Joe watching you with a fond smile on his face.

What didn’t go unnoticed to you though was the reporter reporting celebrity news on your TV. Before Joe arrived, you were flipping through the channels on your TV looking for something to watch when you decided to leave it on ENews while you continued writing— ultimately you were now regretting that decision.

“New Jersey Devils’ star player Jack Hughes finally speaks up regarding his very public split with Grammy Award winning singer Y/N Y/L/N.”

Apparently this doesn’t go unnoticed by Joe as well who was now watching you as your eyes shot up and remained glued on the screen in front of you.

“Almost a year after videos and pictures surfaced of NHL star Jack Hughes kissing a unknown woman— Jack finally breaks his silence. We interviewed Jack after his game last Saturday against the New York Rangers and the 22 year old had a few things to say about the situation.”

“I just want to clear everything once and for all. You’ve only heard one side of the story. After three years of dating Y/N, never once did I cheat on her— when those pictures came out we were already broken up for a few months, so there was no cheating.”

You’re hands were now shaking while your chest moved up and down in an abnormally fast pace— the Lego piece you were previously holding was now disregarded on the table. Joe— you could barely hear him trying to call out for you. You were solely focused on the TV.

“I hope this stops the baseless rumors, the false narrative that has been put out through the songs— I don’t appreciate it.”

“Why do you think Y/N would lie?” the interviewer asked.

“I don’t know. She has been getting cozy with Burrow— maybe she’s projecting but I do wish her all the best.” Jack chuckles as he gives the interviewer a smile.

Silence

Joe managed to find the TV remote and turned it off but it was too late— you heard everything you needed to hear. You would have heard about that interview regardless, the internet is fast.

“Y/N.” Joe’ stern voice broke the silence. You failed to realize that he was now crouching right next to you.

The soft touch of his hand drawing circles on your back managed to bring the tears out to surface. You felt the burning pain in your chest that you’ve grown familiar with the past couple of months— everything came crashing down on you like the waves during a storm.

“He’s lying.” Was all you’ve managed to muster up. You’re voice was now raspy from the struggle of trying not to break down and cry.

“He’s lying.” You said again, more so to yourself— trying to calm yourself down.

“I know. I know. I believe you.” Joe reassured you while he continued playing with your hair. The blonde’s words shocked you. Why would he believe you? Why should he believe you?

“Why?” You sniffed looking up at Joe, you’re eyes getting more blurry as they filled themselves with tears.

Joe remained calm offering you a comforting smile before gathering you into his arms— he was now sitting behind you with you in between his parted legs, his arms wrapped around your entire torso as he gently pushes you backward to lean against him.

“We haven’t known each other for that long, Joe. How do you know that what he said wasn’t all true?” You pushed releasing a shaky breath not understanding why he is choosing to blindly trust and believe you.

The quarterback doesn’t know about Jack, he knows that you just recently ended a long term relationship but never the specifics— unless he researched you prior which seems uncharacteristic of Joe and unlikely at that.

“I believe you because you wouldn’t be acting like this if you were lying. I believe you because if you were lying, you wouldn’t tear up every time you performed a certain song. I believe you because if you were lying, you wouldn’t have a distant look on your face every time you get reminded of your ex. I believe you because I know you not him.”

The tears that gathered in your eyes finally fell. You were crying again— sure, Jack caused it but you were crying because deep down you knew that you were falling again, for someone who’s talking to you as if you were the most precious thing in the world, someone who unbeknownst to you have been watching your every move.

“He’s ruining my life. He keeps hurting me, Joey.” Sobs wracked your body as you curled up against his chest. “Shh, you’re okay, you’re alright. No one can ruin anything for you or hurt you without your consent, lovebug.” Joe coos as he tries his best to remove the hair that was now sticking on your face from the tears.

The ringing of your phone pulled the both of you out of your little bubble that you’ve just created, grabbing your phone you see Y/BF/N and Trevor calling you for a group FaceTime, quickly answering the call, you started to cry even harder— the overwhelming things that just had happened in a matter minutes getting to you.

“Y/N?” Your two best friends started in unison, their faces filled with concern as they finally saw the state you were in.

“Hey, Popstar.” Trevor gave you a sad smile as he tried to make you smile back at him.

“He’s a fucking liar, Z.” You looked at them sadly, your tears now falling slower than before but consistently.

Trevor looked at you defeatedly as he was just as hurt and disappointed at Jack as you were. He didn’t know why Jack would do something like that to you— he didn’t understand why he cheated in the first place. When Trevor confronted him that night, Jack stated that he was drunk and he didn’t mean to do it, that he wanted to apologize to you and take you back but still continued to date the same girl he cheated on you with and now this— lying to the world, turning the story around. Trevor was just as pissed.

“Y/N, I want you to breathe, okay? I already contacted your publicist for you and I’ll be back there by tomorrow— we’ll figure it out. We always do.” Y/BF/N calmly but sternly confronted you. Y/BF/N went back to her hometown for a couple of days to meet her family which is why she wasn’t with you currently like she always was.

“I know. It’s just people are gonna think I’m a fucking liar now— and that I cheated on him. He fucking implied I’ve been talking to Joe while we were dating and that I was projecting.” upon the realization that Joe’s name was brought into the conversation, you cried even harder.

You didn’t want Joe involved. He doesn’t deserve to be involved in such nonsense— he already gets bombarded by questions about you, now he’s gonna be apart of cheating allegations.

“No one is gonna believe that asshole, Y/N. Sure his die hard fans who wants to jump his bones might but that’s it— he’s dumb.” Y/BF/N explained.

“How do you know that?” You blurted. The pain and anger now reaching the surface ready for you to explode. Thankfully, Joe was quietly listening— his fingers slowly drawing patterns up and down your arm, whispering sweet nothings in your ears that could turn you into a melting puddle if you weren’t so angry right now.

“Because! We were all at that golf course a few weeks before the pictures of Jack cheating came out, remember? The paparazzi got photos of you two latched to each other like a couple of leeches, Y/N! Don’t you see? Jack didn’t think his plan through properly. People won’t believe his bullshit story about you two breaking up months prior and everyone knows you and Joe met after the fact.” You could kiss Y/BF/N through the phone right now. She was right. A few weeks before the drama exploded on your face; you, Y/BF/N, Trevor, Cole, Alex, Jack, Luke, and Quinn went out to play golf together— the day after that the tabloids had pictures of you and Jack together full on PDA.

He’s a dumb motherfucker and that dumb motherfucker is dead to you.

“So, do me a favor— grab your pen and paper and start your magic. I hate seeing you cry because of that fucker. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Joe don’t think I can’t see you, take care of her please.” Y/BF/N gave a stern look through the screen.

“I will.” Joe curtly answered before squeezing you tighter making you melt into him even more.

“Are you telling me the Joe Burrow has been right there this entire time? I’ve been looking at your zoomed in face when I could be looking at Joe Burrow?!” Trevor voices out, moving his head side to side as if he could get a glimpse of the NFL player that way.

You slowly inched your phone away from your face, Joe’s face now appearing on the screen earning a literal gasp from the hockey player.

“Oh my god, hi!” Trevor waves at the quarterback earning a chuckle from Joe and a small smile from you.

Trevor looked at you with a grin after finally making you smile, “I have a game against the Devils this week. I’ll bash his head in against the glass for you.” Trevor said his voice now serious as ever, along with a determined and pisses off look on his face that you only see during his games.

You only hummed in reply before deciding to bid goodbye to your two best friends— lyrics floating around your head waiting to be written out of anger.

“Your friends are sweet.” Joe comments once the call ended, now watching you as you pulled out new blank pieces of papers— both of your positions unchanging, in fact you two were even closer than before.

“They are— you are too.” Turning to meet his intense gaze you managed to give him a genuine smile as you watched him watch you.

Joe was holding you so close and so gentle that it made your heart ache in a good way. “Thank you.” you whispered.

“You can talk to me, always.”

And that’s what you did. Not moving from both of your places, you told Joe everything. From meeting Jack to losing Jack— you told him everything. You shed a few tears as you told him how bad it hurts, how it broke you— you told him how scared you were, how scared you are now of love— of falling in love; and Joe listen. He quietly listened as you poured your heart to him, until Joe caressing your arms and him whispering reassuring words to you slowly lulls you to sleep.

The energy you drained from writing your songs and from crying pulled you into a slumber. You remained motionless in Joe’s arms— your back leaning on his chest as he circled his arms tighter around you, protecting you from the world as he watched your chest steadily move up and down, your soft snores filling his ears making him smile.

Joe enjoys your company. Meeting you was one of the highlights of his life— you were a breath of fresh air. You were so beautiful inside and out, you were funny and witty— the banter and conversations you two would have kept him on his toes. Joe never once denied what he felt and he knew he will have to work hard for you to believe his feelings especially now with how fragile you were— Joe cares for you and he hated how your smile instantly dropped after hearing the news, he hated seeing and hearing you cry which is why as he watches you sleep in his arms, he carefully pulled out his phone.

Joe was just as pissed as you were and everyone will know that.

𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

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