#she’d always come running up to me and eat off my hand and want a cuddle | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ourautumn86 · 7 months

Text

puppy love

dad’s bf shane mccutcheon x fem! reader

pt2

synopsis: you’ve liked your dad’s best friend for a very long time. the time has come when you can finally have her.

cw;; +18 content! minors dni!! (i’ll hunt you down), shane is 34, reader is 18 in the first part of the fic, alcohol and drug consumption (coke and weed) (don’t do this guys!!!!), fighting, reader being mean, TENSIONNNN, puking, kissing, tattoos, piercings, teasing, praising, degradation, voyeurism (kinda), oral sex (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), cum eating, hair pulling…

you’ve had this silly little crush on your dad’s best friend since you were a teenager.

how could you not? she was beautiful, and successful and so fucking hot… she was unique. you’ve never met anyone quite like shane mccutcheon. so free.

it was innocent at first. you’d always want to spend time with her. she was the person you looked up to after all. she taught you how to skate from a a very early age. she always cut your hair when you’d need a fresh cut, and dyed it even though when she knew your dad would give her hell for it just because you wanted to (she would say sorry, but she wasn’t). she gave you your first tattoo when you turned 16 in a place where your father wouldn’t see. a hummingbird, just like hers. “my birthday present for you, kid” she had said. you could still remember the feeling of her fingertips on your thighs and waist as she tattooed your hipbone. you had tried so hard to not blush and squirm, her touch electrifying.

you could feel butterflies every time your friends would ask you about her in recess, well-known looks being shared when you’d blush. and your knees would go weak when you’d see her at the entrance of your high-school after class, waiting for you leaning against her car with her charming smile. “hey kid.” she’d mess up your hair with one of her ringed hands, hugging you close to her chest. you’d push her away, acting pissed off, when in reality all you wanted was to hug her closer and bury your face in the crook of her neck. she always smelled so nice…

but you couldn’t keep her too close ‘cause then you’d notice the hickeys on her neck, and all those butterflies would die.

your father had you at a very early age, having to raise you all by himself since your mother decided to run away and leave you. and shane had been there since the first second that she had met your father, along with the whole group, helping him push through.

so when you realized that what you felt for her was more than something platonic… your whole world came crashing down on your shoulders.

eighteen and in love with a woman twice your age… so you slowly started to drift away. you’d act busy. you’d started going out frequently, doing drugs, drinking alcohol… getting wasted and sleeping with a bunch of girls to try and forget her.

of course, she’d always find you.

“oh my god…” you groaned, turning around to face your friend with wobbly legs and your heart on your throat. “shane’s here.” you had just left the club, completely drunk out of your mind and with hickeys all over your chest and neck. you couldn’t let her see you like this. you didn’t want to see her.

“what? where?” your friend inquired and you pointed with your eyes to the side and to your back. “fuck. what do we do?”

“don’t let her see me. please, lucile.”

“okay, let’s…” but then she ducked her head, eyes shot open. “oh shit. shit. shit. she saw me.”

“fuck!” you whispered, and at the same time you heard shane’s voice coming from behind you, calling out for you. you tried to ignore her, tried to act as if she wasn’t you who she was looking for, but she wouldn’t give up.

“hey! i’m talking to you!” your whole world started spinning when you felt her hand on your shoulder, turning you around so you could face her. “do you have any idea how worried your dad is? we’ve been looking like crazy for you.” her voice sounded harsh, and she looked pissed. it was when she noticed that you weren’t looking at her, but instead hiding your eyes that she took your face with her free hand, making you face her. “fuck… you’re high?” your eyes were reddish and half lided, pupils dilated. your makeup ruined, gloss smushed. she looked at your clothes, completely out of place, bruises on your skin. “let’s go.” she grabbed onto your wrist to pull you along, but you fought her. she growled your name, slowly.

“i’m not going anywhere. i’m having fun.” you slurred, taking a swing of the bottle of alcohol on your hand. your vision was blurry, and your heart was beating too loud. “hey!” you whined when she took it from you and threw it aside, making the glass break. you whistled at her pissed off look. “somebody needs to have a little bit of fun…” you muttered.

“you’ve had enough, i’m taking you home.” her voice was stern, green eyes angry.

“you’re not my dad.” you said, and she smirked.

“yeah. thank god i’m not, ‘cause if he saw you like this, he’d kill you. move.” you rolled your eyes. “don’t be a brat with me. i’m not putting up with that shit. car, now.” she ordered, and you finally moved, walking towards her car.

you hadn’t shared a word on the whole way and you frowned when she kept going straight instead of taking a turn when the street of your neighborhood came to your view. she noticed. “i’m taking you to my house. can’t let your father see you like this.” your stomach jumped at the thought of being alone with her on her beautiful house. you could still remember how soft her bed was, how everything smelled of her. it was making you nervous. you didn’t want to be alone with her. not when she looked this good and you were this drunk and high.

she parked right outside, turning off the engine and getting out of the car. you followed her up the stairs and inside her home, groaning when she turned the lights on and it hit your eyes.

“fuck.”

“what did you take?” she inquired and you giggled.

“what did i not take?” she crossed her arms over her chest and you rolled your eyes. “i don’t know. some weed. cocaine…” she rose one of her hands to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“jesus christ. why the fuck would you do that! are you insane?”

“oh, don’t act as if you hadn’t done it before… we all know shane heart breaker mccutcheon’s reputation.” you scoffed, and she squinted at you.

“and now you want to follow my steps?”

“maybe i do.” you shrugged.

“you’re acting stupid.” she sighed.

“and you’re acting fucking annoying.” you retorted, grabbing at the sides of your head when it throbbed. “ugh you’re making my head hurt.” your legs wobbled and if it weren’t for shane grabbing you, you’d have probably fell onto the floor.

“woah. are you okay?” you shook your head.

“i think… i’m going to…” you clasped your mouth shut with one of your hands and shane’s eyes quickly shot open before she was hurriedly guiding you to the toilet. you fell on your knees, puking your guts out. she grabbed your hair on a make-shift ponytail to make sure that it wouldn’t get dirty. she rubbed your back with her free hand.

“it’s okay, let it go. that’s it.” you groaned, feeling your stomach hurt. you didn’t want her to touch you, not on this state, but at the same time, you just wanted to lean on her touch and forget about everything.

“sorry.” you apologized, not really sure about what, maybe everything. she hushed you.

“it’s okay. don’t worry about it, okay? let it all out.” after a couple of minutes, you felt your dizziness subside, although you were still pretty high. “stay here, alright? i’m gonna go for some clothes you can change into.” you nodded, resting against the cold wall as you took deep breaths.

“fuck.”

you were cringing at the thought of shane seeing you like this, a complete fucking mess, just when she came back to the bathroom with some clothes on her hands.

“come on. let’s get you up.” she offered you her help to get up, hands on your hips to stabilize you as you took off your heels. “do you need help with-“ you shook your head.

“i’m fine.”

“are you sure?”

“shane. i’m fine.” you repeated, harshly, and she nodded. she wanted to understand. if you were acting like this it had to be due to something.

“alright… i’ll… i’ll be outside if you need me.” she nodded, and left the bathroom.

you sighed, leaning on the counter. you looked at the pile of clothes she had left you, and you took them. they were soft, and just as you imagined, they smelled like her.

you pulled over your head your dress, feeling the cold of the bathroom slide into your bones. your skin rose in goosebumps when you slid her shirt on, feeling caged in her and at the same time so free… you were surrounded by shane. and you were ashamed of yourself. you were supposed to be getting over her, not thinking about how much you liked having her on you. you were deep in thought when she knocked on the door. you had already pulled up your legs the shorts she had lent you.

“you okay in there?” she inquired through the other side, and you opened up for her.

“do you have some makeup remover i could use?” you inquired her, shying away from her green deep eyes.

“oh, yeah.” she passed through you, pulling it from the drawers of the sink along with some cotton wipes.

“thank you.” you muttered when she handed it to you.

“no problem.”

there was this… awkward tension in between the two of you. shane didn’t know what to say. she had noticed how lately you’d gone off the rails, but she didn’t really know why. it was your last year of high school. maybe you were just trying to have fun before college…? she was just worried about you.

you took off your makeup, and she stood there with you, cautious in case you felt like getting sick again.

you were still pretty high, although the dizziness of the alcohol had disappeared once you’d gotten it out of your system. suddenly, you felt this knot in your throat. shit. not now.

“hey… are you…? what’s wrong?” you shook your head, wiping away the first tear that fell from your eyes.

“nothing.” you muttered, but she wasn’t having it.

“come on, something must be going on for you to be like this. talk to me, sweetheart.” she pulled you into her arms, rubbing your back as you hid on the crook of her neck. “hm?” she took your face in between her hands, thumbs caressing your cheeks.

“i love you.” you said, and she smiled.

“i love you too, kid.” you shook your head, interrupting her, your hands surrounding her wrists.

“i love you, shane.” she frowned, eyes shooting open in shock when she felt your lips on hers. your eyes were squeezed shut, heart beating harshly against your ribs. it was just a mere touch, two seconds of contact before she was softly pushing you away, breath fanning over your lips. your forehead collided with her chest. “i’m sorry.” you muttered, and shane hugged you, rubbing your back in soft circles. oh, sweet thoughtful shane.

“why don’t we get you in bed, hm?” she inquired, tenderly. she didn’t think too much of it. you were drunk, high and sad. this had all been a slip. a mistake. she had surely had many before. you nodded, and let her guide you to her bedroom. she always let you use her bed when you’d sleep over, using the sofa instead or sometimes sleeping with you when you were younger and would get scared.

“shane?” you inquired her as she made her way to the door.

“yeah?”

“do you think maybe…you could stay?”

she stood silent for a couple of seconds.

“yeah, sure.” she answered, and you moved to make some space for her. she laid on her back, and looked at you. “come here.” you got closer, and leaned on her chest, right above her heart, where you could hear her heartbeat. her hand laced on your hair, rubbing your scalp and brushing it for you to relax —something she has always done since you were little and helped you sleep—. you had to bite down on your lip and swallow your tears.

“good night, shane.” you whispered.

“good night, kid.” she answered.

the next morning. you were gone. and shane didn’t see you again.

4 years later…

“there’s my baby girl fresh out of college!!!” you chuckled at your dad’s excitement. you thanked the taxi driver who waved goodbye and started the car to drive away. “oh god, you’ve gotten so big!” you rolled your eyes, hugging him back as he squeezed you against his chest.

“dad… you saw me a couple of months ago!” you laughed and he grunted.

“kids grow so fast…” he sighed, shaking his head and you copied him, rolling your eyes. “come on! let’s get you inside!” he took your suitcase, pulling from it.

four years had passed since the last time you’d stepped on your city, even your house. that night after telling shane you’d loved her, you’d taken the offer one of your friends had given you to work for her during the summer in NY and left LA, later on having enrolled on the local college to continue your education. it was your dad who would come visit you on the holidays, since you’d promised yourself not to come back after you’d finally finished your degree to… disconnect. you needed change. needed to find yourself. and in reality, all of it was a simple excuse. you just needed to get away from shane. you couldn’t look her in the eyes after that night, couldn’t act as if nothing had happened and you hadn’t kissed her. couldn’t ignore the way your whole body had filled with euphoria and your stomach had blown up in butterflies.

so you ran. and did everything in your power to forget all about it. you had made new friends, met new people, dated, broke up, fucked, partied… you’d lived a brand new life away from her. and somehow…, it still felt like something was missing.

“dad… what’s all of this?” you inquired at the amount of snacks and beers decorating the isle of your kitchen. he guiltily smiled and you rose your eyebrows.

“i may of may have not invited some people to throw you a… comeback party?” you groaned.

“dad!”

“i know! but you know your aunt alice! she’s missed you so much… and angelica wouldn’t stop asking for you to bette and tina. so i thought that a little gathering wouldn’t kill anybody…” you sighed. “we’re just happy to have you back home, baby.”

you felt the itch. the need to ask about her. to say her name out loud after all this years. but you fought it.

“you’re right. i’m sorry. i’ve missed them too.” he hugged you again.

“why don’t you take a shower and get ready, hm? i’ll bring your luggage up your room for you. they’ll get here in an hour or so.” you nodded.

“okay. thanks dad.”

shane had been shocked to hear the drastic decision you’ve made in moving to new york. you’d packed and left the same day without even saying goodbye. she had tried calling you, of course she had. at least to try and get to know how you were doing over there in that immense city. but it’d always go straight to voice mail. your dad would tell her that it’s because you were real busy with school and your work. so she’d given you space. she had enough knowing through your father that you were alright. though she missed you. you were important for her. she adored you.

the years passed by quicker than she thought. she had taken over a couple of hair salons that now had her name, and sold her photography to great prices, giving her the chance to move to a better apartment. she hadn’t noticed the change that this years supposed for you ‘till she finally got to see you again, four years later.

you weren’t the same little teenager girl she once knew. you had grown up into this beautiful woman with radiant smile and vibrant eyes. you’d gotten a couple more tattoos, she could perfectly see the tramp stamp peeking from your low rise jeans, and outline the bars on your nipples though your tight top. jesus christ. when the hell had you gotten those?

you were wearing a beautiful lip gloss that made your lips pop, and black eyeshadow and waterline in your eyes. your nails were done in a deep shade of red, yet short.

shane had to take a deep breath when you finally noticed her, walking into your house as you took a beer from the kitchen. your dad and the group was outside by the pool, getting ready to eat some meat fresh out from the grill.

she looked good. why did she look so fucking good? and why was your heart going this crazy? for god’s sake, it had been four years already. you were sure you’d finally gotten it under control, but one look at her and those stupid butterflies were back, along with the memory of her soft lips and electrifying touch.

“well if it isn’t new york’s sweetheart…” she said as she finally reached you a smirk on her lips as she leaned on the isle, to what you scoffed. “it’s nice to see you, kid.” her voice was low, and silky. you wanted to groan. she sounded better than you remembered. but instead, you rolled your eyes, leaning on the other side of the isle to get closer.

“i’m not a kid anymore, shane.”

“yeah, i can see that.” she chuckled, eyes training on your body, eyeing you up and down when you turned around and asked:

“want a beer?”

“please.” you opened the fridge once again, bending over to get them from the last shelf, giving her the perfect view of your tattoo and ass. it read: heaven. “thanks.” she said when you handed it to her.

“no problem.” the two of you took a swing form the bottles, fresh beer spilling down your throat. somehow it didn’t help with how hot you were feeling.

“so tell me. how has new york treated you?” she inquired and you shrugged.

“it was alright. kinda busy with college.”

“oh yeah… as if college were everything you’ve been up to, huh?” she teased you, and you chuckled.

“what do you want to know, shane?” you squinted your eyes. “that the parties are amazing there? that the girls are hot?” she smiled.

“yeah, that’s more like it…” she drank again. there was this easy-going atmosphere in between the two of you. you liked it. you thought it would be harsher to face her. but she was shane. how could it be? she always made you feel safe. “see you’ve gotten more tattoos…” her eyes eyes your arms, where some of them stood. “i like them.”

“oh, yeah. have this friend back in the city that would do them for free if she could practice on me.” you laughed, showing them to her. she took your arm, soft fingertips drawing over their lines .

“well, she’s got talent, i’d give you that.” she whistled.

“yeah. taught me how to stick and poke and everything.” you laughed at her shocked expression.

“no fucking way… you tattoo?” you nodded.

“yeah, so if you ever want a new one just hit me up, i still owe you one.”

“true. the hummingbird. how’s it holding?” you pulled down your pants and panties to show it to her, soft skin in display. “might need a little ink.” she hummed, and you pushed your pants back to their spot. you might need something else.

shane tried to ignore the little speck of ink that she saw more towards your center when you pulled your pants down, but it left her with curiosity running through her veins.

you stared at each other, green eyes on yours for a couple of long seconds before she looked away, beer on hand. she couldn’t.

“where’s your dad?” she inquired, and you sighed.

“she’s out by the pool, getting the grill ready.” she nodded.

“see you later?” you nodded, and saw her go outside, being welcomed by her friends.

well… you were fucked.

summer in LA was hot. really hot. and shane prancing around your house with one of her wife beaters and tight jeans wasn’t of much help. you could see her arms bulge as she helped your dad put up a new relaxing space on your garden, where he’ll build a wooden ceiling and put up a few couches for you to relax by the pool.

you were currently taking a swim, small black bikini accentuating your perfect body. it was hard to say shane was having a great time.

“hey kid. enjoying the pool?” she inquired, wiping the sweat off her forehead. it was already almost night, the sunset already had been engulfed by the ocean.

you looked up at her, resting against the edge, cleavage on full and exposure.

“really. the water is so refreshing…” you smiled.

“shane!” your father called out for her. “i’m going out to buy some bear. want anything?” he inquired.

“marlboro reds?”

“got it.” she thanked him as he took his keys and left through the main door, leaving the two of you alone. you bit down on your lip at the thought of it.

“hey shane?” you muttered.

“yeah?”

“can i tell you something?”

“anything.” she nodded.

“bend over.” you whispered, and she followed, kneeling on one knee by the pool so she could get closer to you, and just as you were about to part your lips, your wet fingers gripped on her shirt, pulling her inside the pool. she was gasping for air as she came back up to the surface, wiping the water out of her face as you laughed so hard your stomach hurt. “oh god! you should have seen your face!!!”

“oh yeah? you think this is funny?” she chuckled, pointing at her wet clothes. the white wife beater let her nipples show now. you tried not to state too much.

“totally.” you nodded, taking a step back when she step closer.

“com’here.” she ordered, waving her hand.

“nah, i’m cool here.” you laughed, and shrieked when she jumped at you. “no!!”

“oh, so now the princess is begging for mercy, huh?” you sputtered as her fingers tickled you, grabbing at your sides. “how’s that? who’s laughing now, hm?” she muttered as you begged her to stop, trying to get rid of her hold. “yeah, that’s what i thought.” she left you breathless when she finally decided to let you go, although you two were close, your back against the wall of the pool.

you looked at her, and chuckled slightly at the messy state of her hair, which now stood completely drenched hiding her eyes and getting all over her face.

“what?”

“your hair. is… wait. let me.” your soft fingertips made contact with the skin of her face, pushing away the strands and behind her ear.

“thanks.” she muttered.

“you’re welcome.” you two stared at each other, realizing just how close you were. your eyes drifted to her chest, which rose and lowered in deep breaths, her perky nipples hard against the white of her tank top.

she stared at you. at your long eyelashes, flushed cheeks due to the lack of air and laughter and your glossy plump lips. somehow you two just ended closer, the hands that had tickled you still on your hips, burning your skin. your eyes met, and after a couple of seconds she looked away, clearing your throat and letting go of you, leaving you freezing.

“fuck. now i’m completely drenched.” she looked at her clothes.

“you could borrow some of mine.” you shrugged, and she scoffed. “what? i’m sure some of my clothes will fit you, shane. or do you want to get your leather seats wet?”

“fuck no.” her nose wrinkled up, and you chuckled.

“just what i thought.” you muttered, swimming towards the stairs and dipping your hair underneath the water one more time before getting out the pool. shane tried really hard to not stare at the perfect view of your ass. your dad would kill her. your dad will kill her. why was she even staring at you this way? for gods sake she had seen you grow up…

you turned around, and she quickly looked you in the eyes. “you coming or not.”

oh for sure.

“yeah.” she said before following after you.

“are you sure you know how to do this shit?” she inquired for like the eleventh time, and you rolled your eyes. “hey, i just want to make sure you don’t fuck it up, alright? i’ll live with it for the rest of my life.”

“shane, i’m positive. you’re not the first person i tattoo, alright?” you promised, getting the needles and ink ready.

“cool. cool.” she nodded, laying on your bed. your room stood frozen in your teenage years, full of books and pictures and posters. you even had your favorite music records (at least the ones you’ve had to leave behind for college). it gave you this nostalgic feeling that you couldn’t shake off your bones. your father was out with some of his friends, and you and shane had ended up meeting up to tattoo each other. “but-“ she tried and sit back up, but you pushed her down, pointing one of your fingers at her.

“shut the fuck up.” you ordered, and she rose her hands.

“okay.”

she was going for a simple design. a scorpion on her forearm. you’d done some before, so it would be easy. you’d also made a stencil for her, so you would be fine.

you prepped and disinfected everything, putting on your gloves. “okay. where do you exactly want it?” you inquired her, and she pointed at the place where she thought would look best and you nodded, placing the stencil there to let her see if she’d like it.

“yeah, i like it.” you nodded once again.

“alright. then i guess we’re ready. it won’t take a lot, if it hurts too much just let me know and we’ll take a break.” she scoffed.

“who do you think i am?” she sassily inquired and you rolled your eyes.

“hope you choke on your words, mccutcheon.” you shook your head, taking her arm and leaning over to start tattooing her.

“huh, you wish.” she smirked, taking a glimpse of your cleavage. she breathed deeply, squeezing her eyes shut. come on shane. focus.

those fucking nipple piercings… shit. no. don’t think about that.

you noticed her silence and you decided to check up on her.

“you alright?”

“hm?” she seemed distracted. how couldn’t she be? “oh yeah. don’t worry.” of course it wasn’t like she were thinking about your tits. absolutely not. “so… had any girlfriends in new york?” yeah, let’s change the subject.

you sighed and shrugged. “i mean… not really. messed up around but never got serious, you know what i mean?” she smirked, surprised.

“do tell…” you chuckled, playfully hitting her on the arm.

“what about you?” you inquired, trying to not sound so interested. although you were. you truly were.

“could say the same. you know me.” you nodded, and hid your excitement. so she was single.

she stared at you as you worked. fuck. you were so beautiful. new york had changed you so much. you had always been, but now, there was this… something about you she couldn’t put her finger on. she just knew she couldn’t pull her eyes away from you. and that was no good.

“okay. i’m done.” you smiled, wiping over the tattoo to stare at the end result.

“now that’s amazing.” she whistled, taking a look at it. it hadn’t hurt at all.

“told you…” you muttered and she scoffed.

“oh i’m sorry for being scared, you’re the first kid i let near me with a needle.” you rolled your eyes. there was that nickname again. kid.

did she really still looked at you like one?

she noticed your silence.

“hey. you okay?” you pushed away her touch, nodding.

“yeah, i’m fine.” no you were not. what the hell did you have to do for shane to look at you? would it always be like this? will you always be running after her? “so… you up for retouching my tattoo?” you asked and she nodded.

“yeah, sure. could i borrow your gun, though? i’m not that good at stick and poke.” you gave it to her, along with some ink, gloves and new needles.

you got up from your seat, unbuckling your pants. shane tried to not look at you as you pushed them down your thighs, leaving you in a pretty lace pair of panties. her eyes continuously drifted from you to the tattoo gun as you sat on your bed, legs spread as she sat in front of you. there was no comfortable way she could tattoo you in your room, and having her in between your legs, leaning over and so close to your barely clothed center somehow felt more intimate than the first time around. she looked at you as her fingertips made contact with the skin of your hip bone, carefully pulling your panties down just the slightest to disinfect the zone. your cheeks were burning up when her soft low voice caught your attention. “you ready?” you nodded. “alright. if you need me to stop just say the word.” and then there was the buzzing of the tattoo gun and that burning feeling of the needle breaking your skin. you hissed. you knew it was a sensitive spot, but you always forgot how sensitive.

you thanked god the tattoo was small, ‘cause you couldn’t really look at shane too much without thinking about things you shouldn’t be thinking about. she looked so good in between your legs, hair falling messily in her eyes, tongue sticking out and glossing her lips in concentration. the things you’ve thought about that tongue, the nights you’ve imagined her in this same exact position but with less clothing. this was turning you on. it shouldn’t be turning you on.

“fuck.” you groaned. and she looked at you.

“you’re doing good, just hold on a little bit more for me, alright?” you almost moaned. fuck. and now she was praising you. one particular harsh swipe of the needle almost had you gripping her hair. you could feel her breathing against your skin.

this was all too much.

“shane…” you sighed, your hips twitching upwards involuntarily due to the pain.

“i know baby, i know. i’m halfway there.”

you tried to hold in the need to move, but it hurt, and you were getting horny. there wasn’t much you could do. at one particular point, she had to harshly grip your hip with her free hand, pushing you against the duvet. “don’t move.” she ordered, and you bit down on your lip. holy fuck. this looked so much like those dreams you’d have about her…

you could feel your pussy throbbing.

shane was trying her best to keep her composure. but jesus christ, you were writhing under her, letting out this little pained sounds and you were just in a pair of panties and a tank top. it was making it hard for her. you were making it hard for her.

the room was sticky with tension. she could see the peeking of your pubic hair since she had pulled your underwear down, and your skin was so soft…

focus. focus. focus.

but then…

fuck. you were wet. you were soaked.

her green eyes met the wet patch forming on your panties, and she forgot what she was supposed to be doing. hell, she even forgot the fact that you were her best friend’s daughter.

you perked up at the feeling of her stoping with the tattoo.

“shane?” you called out for her, and then you were letting out this sound in between a moan and a gasp when you felt her fingers pushing in between your lips and over the cloth, slowly, teasingly. “oh fuck. what are you doing?” you gasped in a whisper, your hips rutting against her touch. she smirked.

“me? i’m not doing anything.” she looked at you, and slowly leaned closer to you, leaving this soft peck on your thigh. you shuddered. “tell me to stop…” she whispered. it was more like a begging. she needed you to tell her that this was wrong. that she shouldn’t be touching you right now. that it was a really stupid idea. she was your dad’s best friend. and yet…

“i can’t…” your hand laced on her hair when she started softly kissing your skin, lip in between your teeth. you wanted her. you’ve wanted her for so long… “please…”

you whimpered when her fingers bumped against your throbbing and sensitive clit, your hips bucking against her touch. “what’s this, hm?” your cheeks were beet red, thighs trembling under her green stare. “tell me baby, this all for me?” she inquired, leaving a wet kiss on your thigh and you nodded, muttering a ‘yes’ that had her short of breath.

your back arched when she kissed you on top of your panties, her tongue licking the arousal that dampened the lace. at the same time, her hands grabbed at the seam of your panties, slowly pulling them down your hips and thighs. that’s when she finally caught a glimpse of that tattoo that she had barely seen the day of your party. it was above your mound. and it said: ‘lucky you’.

shane smirked, chuckling. “lucky me…” your cheeks reddened, but all shyness and embarrassment disappeared when her fingers dipped in between your drooling folds, connected by strings of your arousal. shane felt her mouth watering. “such a pretty pussy.” you felt so exposed, but at the same time you just wanted to open up your legs for her, let her see every little crevice of you.

you let out this pornographic sweet moan when her tongue draw a long fat strip from your entrance to your clit, softly suckling on it and making your thighs squeeze her head, what made her groan and bury her face deeper into your pussy.

“fuck…” you cried out, your hands meeting her short messy dark hair, tugging at it. why did it felt so good?

she pushed your legs over her shoulders, her warm hands on your thighs as she sucked on your clit, sticking her tongue out for you to ride her face when you’d hump against her. that was until you felt one finger prodding against your hole, easily pushing inside your tight and warm walls due to how wet you were. “that’s it. open up for me, doll.” she hummed when you whimpered, starting to thrust it in and out of you, your arousal thick and white on her knuckles as you thrusted yourself on her finger and mouth.“taste so good…” she couldn’t get enough, eating you like a starved woman.

“shane.” you whined when she added her ring finger, stretching you out. and how could she resist when you sounded so sweet moaning her name? she just wanted to get more of those sounds out of you, make you cum over and over again until the only thing you could remember was her name.

she groaned. “look at you, fuck. so fucking pretty. what would your dad think, hm? her little girl letting his best friend fuck her like this.” you moaned, pulling from her hair. “oh you liked that, huh? like the idea of your daddy catching me with my tongue on your cunt, baby?” you blushed, embarrassed to like the idea of it, the adrenaline rushing through your veins making the pleasure enhance. her fingers constantly hitting your g spot had you so close to the edge… “of course you do…” she smirked, sucking on your clit. you cried out her name, your hips pushing against her mouth. “you close, princess?” you nodded, biting down on your lip. “cum for me, baby. cum on my face. i’ll clean it all up for you.” she muttered, licking at your folds before latching onto your clit. your back arched. that encouragement being all you needed to fall apart, thighs shaking as your high hit you like a tidal wave with a high pitched moan. she groaned at the taste of your white creamy cum on her tongue, lapping at it in need, the wet sounds of her tongue pushing into you and licking in between your lips filling your room. she kept finger-fucking you to help you ride off your orgasm, sucking at your clit to extend it.

you swore you could see stars on your room’s ceiling, thighs shaking and breathing ragged. it had been the best orgasm of your life.

shane finished cleaning you up, swallowing every last bit of your cum before pulling her fingers out of you and pushing them inside your mouth. her green eyes met yours as you cleaned them for her. and you could just think about the fact that you had just fucked your dad’s best friend.

and how much you wanted to do it again…

a/n; 😶‍🌫️

#shane mccutcheon smut #l word shane #shane l word #shane mccutcheon #shane smut #shane mccutcheon x you #shane fluff #shane mccutcheon x reader #shane x reader #shane angst #shane mccutcheon fluff #shane mccutcheon x fem! reader #the l word fan fiction #the l word smut #the l word x reader #the l word

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elliespillowprincess · 7 days

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casual.

a/n: just wanted to let u guys know this fic is inspired by casual by chappel roan!! i think i did see someone else do this so if it seems like im copying i promise im not!! and comment below who made this idea originally!!

c/w: smut!, ellie’s a little toxic, not rlly a happy ending, super short

why you should not support neil druckmann.

listen to casual while u read!!

✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮

“cmon baby, give it to me, that’s it. that’s my girl.” ellie’s hands are pumping inside you at an animalistic pace whilst she kisses you deeply. you’re in your room, music playing from your phone nearby. ellie had come by to eat takeout and watch a movie with you, and it always ended the same way: her deep in your cunt, guiding you through your orgasm, peppering you with praise and kisses, just to get up and leave right after.

you look over to the vase of flowers she got you the other day after your date at the aquarium. you didn’t really know what you were, just that you were something. in group settings she’d act like you didn’t exist, but would text you after to come over.

“please, y/n, come undone on me fuckkkkk.”

“you’re mine, got it? all fuckin mine.”

after she’d make you finish, she’d just get up and get dressed like nothing happened, like she wasn’t just praising you, getting you off, all for your benefit. if you beg her stay, she’d wait until you fell asleep to sneak out of your house, never being there to hold you through the night.

she acted like the two of you were nothing when you’re with your shared friend group, the two of you not even exchanging glances.

this is how it’s been, she’d treat you like a princess in private, and run away as soon as you finished. you wanted to keep your mouth shut, wanted to act like this didn’t bother you, be the cool girl that holds her tongue and gives her space.

but you weren’t.

because this wasn’t casual, you knew it wasn’t, you knew she knew it wasn’t.

but ellie was scared. she was scared of you, of the two of you actually being something. she liked the easiness, she wasn’t tied down to a relationship, she didn’t have any obligations, it was casual, easy.

she’s knuckle deep in you, praising you as you come undone on her fingers. you try to bring her to your face and kiss her, but she pulls away. “ellie, what- what is this?” you blurt. the sentence lingered in the air like a cloud of smoke, she felt as if she inhaled it and let the truth out everything would go wrong. she stared blankly at you, unsure of what to say back. she gets up, grabbing her things. you can tell she wants to say something but her lips are sealed as though superglue was spread across her lips. “ellie..?” as she’s reaching for the door and beginning to step out, she turns around for a moment.

“it’s casual, right?” she says before closing the door behind her. you were left speechless, naked in your bed and feeling dirty. you text your friends, telling them what just happened.

quinn: dude i’m sorry but you’re a loser

ava: why are you still hanging around her?

you silence your phone, not wanting to hear what they said, even if it was the truth.

you knew it was impossible to be casual with ellie. i mean, your favorite bra was in her dresser. the night she took you to a drive in movie and ice cream after, was the first time you went to her house. the two of you stayed up for hours, her making you finish multiple times. you stayed on the phone with joel for hours when she disappeared for a week, talking him down. how could this possibly be casual?

you let a few days go by, not texting ellie at all. it was giving you anger issues, like she was using you. maybe ellie was right, maybe it was just casual fun.

you open your phone, scrolling to find her contact that previously had hearts around her name, but was replaced by just her name after what she said.

y/n: baby will u get me off again?

els: i’m omw

#ellie williams #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie x you

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joeloverture · 3 months

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sea-cret obsession | j.m. x f!reader

masterlist | updates blog pairing: dad's enemy!yachter!joel miller x f!reader summary: [no outbreak] your dad's always had a superiority complex when it comes to his place at austin's finest yacht club. when joel miller joins the club, not only does he dethrone your dad — he also becomes your newest obsession. warnings: (18+ mdni) yachter!joel, dad's enemy!joel, age gap (mid 20s/mid 50s), alcohol, joel is implied to be older than reader's dad - don't read too far into it, reader wears a bikini (anyone can, i promise!), fantasizing, creepyish joel but reader's into it, soft!dom joel, porn with a paper-thin plot, m!receiving oral, throatfucking, facial, cum-eating, f!masturbation, blowjob in the captain's chair, daddy kink (oops), thigh riding, dirty talk, praise, degradation, pet names, aftercare [no use of y/n] word count: 2.9k a/n: this was supposed to be a ficlet for @iamasaddie's ✏️game. this is not a ficlet. please suspend your disbelief, this concept simply fell into my lap the moment i saw the wonderful moodboard aly put together for me. go check out the other fics, most of which are much shorter than mine and are absolute brain candy, that stemmed from aly's game!

Austin is hotter than the hinges on the gates of Hell, and you haven’t stopped sweating bullets since climbing out of Lake Travis. After an afternoon of floating belly-up in your bikini off of the dock of the yacht club your dad frequents, your need for a drink finally outweighed your need for aimless swimming.

Your bare feet are still burning from the hotfooted walk across the wooden deck into the bar. Water droplets cling to your skin and leave a pattern of stippled concrete in your wake. It’s been a few hours you’ve seen your dad around the club, having already gotten into a pissing contest with new club members over horsepower and amenities. Your dad’s the type to always want the biggest and the best: the most decks, the biggest wine fridge, the nicest galley — because God forbid he lose his running ten-year superiority to a newbie.

So yeah, you need a drink. You don’t even have to order; the bartender, Callie, simply slides your usual order over, which you nurse while watching a preseason football game. You haven’t bothered to sit down, your hip popped out with your elbows propped up on the granite countertop.

You don’t even notice the wolf whistle from behind is directed at you until a man sidles up next to you, flashing a smile at Callie. He looks like he belongs in a yacht club, curls styled and sculpted neatly around his face down to where the collar of his blue blazer begins. Some of the buttons on his striped shirt are undone, and your eyes, much to your chagrin, linger at the slice of tanned chest peeking through the fabric.

He looks you up and down, unabashedly licking his lips when he sees the crease of your thighs. “Sweetheart, you’re much too pretty to be entertainin’ the ragtag kinda men around here.”

It’s not the first time you’ve been hit on by the yachters at this particular club, but it is the first time one of them has caught your eye. “I’m not–” you start before you hear the telltale sign of your dad’s laughter coming from close by. You turn around, drink in hand as he rounds the corner, sunglasses on and a towel around the back of his neck.

Your dad’s expression immediately sours with a speed you’ve never seen in him before. His lips draw tight at the sight of you – or maybe the sight of the man next to you.

“Joel,” your dad says, separating from his entourage. He wraps a protective arm around your shoulder and pulls you into his chest. “I see you’ve met my daughter.”

“Seems it,” the man, presumably Joel, nods, flagging down Callie for an old fashioned. The glass sweats condensation along his sturdy hand. He holds eye contact with you while he sips, only looking away when he runs his tongue along the rim of the glass. “Oughta let me take ‘er for a ride one day. Bet she’d appreciate the fine machinery of a real boat.”

You don’t miss the innuendo to his words even if your dad doesn’t. You scrub your hands along your sides, your sunscreen-sticky skin dewy beneath your palms. You shush the part of yourself that bets you’d appreciate it, too.

“Your boat is maybe good for getting to the retirement home across the lake,” your dad snaps, squeezing your shoulder. He pushes his sunglasses up his nose. “C’mon, kiddo, let’s head home.”

You find your flip flops at the bottom of your beach bag, barely having the time to kick them on before your dad is practically pulling you out of the yacht club. He gives half-hearted waves to his usual boating buddies until you’re in the parking lot, surrounded by heat shimmering over the blacktop. The scalding hot leather seats burn the backs of your thighs and the small of your back as you settle in. With a purr, the air conditioner blows a fresh burst of wind in your face.

“What was that all about?” you ask when he starts the engine.

Your dad clips his sunglasses on his polo shirt, gripping the steering wheel ten and two with a winded sigh through his nose. “Fuckin’... rookie with his triple-decker Ferretti.”

Joel looked rich. But not Ferretti rich. “Who the hell in Austin owns a Ferretti?”

“That son of a bitch, that’s who. I don’t want you runnin’ amok on Joel’s boat, you hear me?”

“Ain’t planning on it,” you respond as if you don’t already know what’ll happen if Joel propositions you again.

You see Joel again soon, but only in passing. A wink behind your father’s back, a drink from the gentleman across the bar that was only coincidentally Joel. The locations of these run-ins are always different. Sometimes you walked by each other on the dock. Sometimes he’d give you both a quick wave from across the water before he sped off, leaving the boat rocking on the stirred up tide and your dad cussing up a storm.

Today’s almost-tryst happens on the dock. You’re walking past Joel’s designated dock in a bikini that you’d nearly thrown out because of its snug fit. You have to smother your disappointment when you don’t see him on the top deck sipping a beer. You know better than to be disappointed over the man who your dad has not only claimed as a mortal enemy, but also claimed as the antichrist. With the thoughts Joel gives you when your hand is between your thighs, it might not be too far from the truth.

You think you have most of it figured out – he’s rough, he has to be. With how relentless as he is on the waters, it makes no sense for him to be anything else. His fancy, custom belt buckles snicking as it comes undone so he can yank his jeans down and get inside of you. Those chains he always wears would hang in your face, swaying with every roll of his hips into yours as he chases his pleasure deep inside of your–

“Woah there, darlin’,” a honeyed voice coaxes you, a muscled arm darting out to stop you in your path. “Almost walked right into the lake.” Your head snaps up to look at Joel, the very inconvenient object of your fantasies. You swallow the quickly-forming lump in the back of your throat. “You sure you ain’t had too many?”

“Positive,” you say. You haven’t even done a shot s0 far today.

“Mmm, alright.” The playful glint in his eyes doesn’t seem too convinced. It makes your heart stutter before you remind it to keep beating. “Tell ya what, you’re welcome to ‘sober up’ on my boat.”

You look between where your dad’s dock sits empty. He’s out with his co-workers today, shooting the shit too much for their own good. Then you look between Joel and his boat, the beauty of a Ferretti that’s just two steps away.

Mouth already watering at the possibilities, you say, “I do remember you promising me a ride, old man.”

Joel’s lips curl into a knowing smirk, and he makes the long step from the dock to the boat, hand held out for you. You don’t hesitate to let him help you aboard.

You’re on your knees in front of the captain’s chair before he gets to the middle of Lake Travis. “Old man,” he mocks above you with his legs spread as far as they can go. You kitten-lick his hardened cock, making sure to lap up the obscene amount of his precum. There’s certainly one part of Joel that doesn’t need to go to a retirement home, and it’s in your mouth. You suckle at the leaking head of his cock while his strokes your cheek, only pulling away to spoon a drop of his precum from your lip onto your tongue. “You like suckin’ an older man’s cock, pretty girl?”

You nod eagerly, taking him deeper so you can tongue the vein along the underside of his cock. From that, he groans, head slumping on the headrest so he can gather himself. You spit a generous amount into your hand, wrapping around the base to properly suck him.

“Bet there’s a whole ‘nother lake in that skimpy lil’ bikini of yours, ain’t that right?” You nod around his length and go a little deeper. He’s heavy on your tongue, long and girthy all at once. He presses lightly against the back of your throat, prompting you to gag around him, but you wouldn’t pull away from him even if the yacht itself set on fire. He moans as you start to bob your head up and down. You rub your thighs together just thinking about what his cock could be capable of between your legs. “Mhm, I know, baby. You wanna push that outta the way and give it a rub for me? A rub for your real daddy?”

A choked whimper punches its way out of you. His hips jerk from the vibrations, unintentionally pushing himself further down your throat. You expect it to be too much, but it isn’t. You pull away from him, taking a quick breath as you wrap your hand around the wide palm seated on his thigh and raise it to the back of your head. “Please fuck my throat, daddy,” you pout up at him, a mixture of your spit and his precum dripping down your chin and into your cleavage.

Another groan tugs its way out of him when he looks down at you. He cups the back of your head and brings his cock back to your mouth. “Can’t say no to such a gorgeous fuckin’ face. Gonna look so damn good covered in my cum.” You keep licking his tip, not wanting to miss a single drop of him. “Go ‘head and put a hand on your pussy, baby. Rub that clit that daddy’s got all throbbin’.”

And how could you ever say no to him? Your hand is down your bikini within seconds, peeling your tacky panties away from your cunt so your fingertips can rub circles along your clit. A circle against your swollen core pulls a moan from you right as he thrusts into your throat. He starts out slow, tentative as he pushes all the way into your throat and then pulls all the way out. His second thrust is much harder, stifling your breathing for a moment as a strangled noise of pleasure leave his parted lips.

He nudges you further down onto his cock, burying your nose into the triangle of skin exposed by his rumpled button-down. You force down the gag that builds in the back of your throat. Joel keeps your mouth speared on his cock with shallow rolls of his hips into the warm wetness of your mouth. You whine, prompting a hearty chuckle from him. “Good girl, daddy’s good little girl. Keep playin’ with yourself for me.” He smirks down at you. “Ain’t much different than what you do in your own bed, huh? Pussy just cryin’ for some cock, I bet.”

You moan in agreement as your eyes flutter shut when you rub your clit harder, harder, harder until arousal is smeared all over your knuckles and across your mound. “Nuh-uh,” he says with a punctuating adjustment of his hips. You gag, spit webbing through Joel’s happy trail. “Eyes on me.”

You’re satisfied to find him just as debauched as you feel. Strands of his usually put-together hair are out of place along his forehead, and his golden chain glistens with sweat. His hands grip the arms of the captain’s chair, spread on the tanned leather and exerting dominance over your kneeling silhouette. But you aren’t fooled. There’s a certain rosiness to his cheeks, a flare to his nose, that lets you in on the secret: he’s just as wrecked, just as in deep as you are.

You pull up and immediately sink down on his cock again, pleading eyes looking up at him, asking him. I want it daddy. I want you. And then he’s fucking your throat in earnest. His hips buck up to meet the back of your throat. You struggle to keep up with his size, his pace, but you suck his cock even with the knowledge that you won’t know how to explain your sore throat or raspy voice to your dad.

Joel squints down at you, absorbing the seeping spit from the corners of your raw lips, your droopy, ecstasy-laden eyes. He sighs, sinking down into the chair as he grinds his cock into your mouth and moves your head up and down his length. You take the hand that isn’t playing with your clit and reach to grab at his balls, kneading them. A narrow breath trips out of his lips. “Nasty bitch. Fuck, baby. Daddy’s close. Keep – keep doin’ that.” You drag your tongue along that bottom vein again, kneading one of his balls and making sure that when he pulls you off of his cock, you treat the head to one final taste.

“Open up, slut,” he coaxes. His cock twitches. He jerks himself once, twice, and then cums, rope after rope hitting your damp skin. His cum is hot, sticky, and you’re too preoccupied with trying to catch some of his release that your hand stalls over your cunt. You whimper when his cum lands on your tongue and follow it up by swallowing. Joel’s breath is unsteady as he looks down at you, cock softening in his lap. “Good girl,” he praises, reaching out to run his thumb along your stained skin. Drop by drop, he feeds you his cum, and you lap it up just as eagerly as you’d lapped him up.

You pull your hand out of your bikini when he’s done, tacky arousal stretching between your fingers. Going back on your haunches, you suck in a deep breath through your abused throat.

Joel pats his wide, thick thighs above you, the same ones you’ve been fantasizing about since that first day in the bar. “I promised you a ride, didn’t I?” A familiar, hooked smirk pulls at his mouth. Your face lights up in recognition and you practically scamper onto his thigh, stumbling as you tug your bikini out of the way to settle yourself on the linen coral shorts he has on. Joel laughs, a noise that has your cunt leaking onto the fabric, clit fluttering from the friction. Heat pulls tight in your stomach.

His hands land on your hips, guiding you back and forth when you hesitate at first. “Grind on daddy’s thigh, baby. Wanna see you cum on me.” Your head tips forward, forehead slotting against his shoulder when you start to push your hips into his. Need springs awake in your stomach when he drags you forward. A frayed moan tumbles out of you from his near-manhandling. You rut into Joel, bouncing, grinding yourself on him in the same way that you’d imagined yourself doing at least a dozen times before this.

“Daddy,” you whimper when the muscle goes taut underneath you, plucking something in your cunt. At the same time, a speedboat passes Joel’s yacht outside, leaving the ship rocking on the water in time with your movements as you ride his thigh. You yelp, a strained noise as the pressure intensifies on your clit. “Close!”

He grips your hips even tighter, bounces his thigh up against you. “That’s it, that’s it. Let it happen baby, give it to daddy.”

You come undone with the taste of his cum still rich on your tongue and his words ringing in your buzzing ears. Your orgasm whips through your body and leaves you shuddering against his center, halfheartedly continuing to roll your hips up against him. His thumbs rub circles into your skin while you come down. You suck in a shaky breath, Joel’s palm stroking the small of your back. “Did good for me, baby. Look real pretty when you come. Real pretty.”

You give him a shy smile, and he leans forward to kiss you, a brief moment of gentleness amidst his usually ubiquitous harshness. He pulls away with a tiny pat to your ass. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You stumble off of him on shaky legs, leaning against the captain’s console. Joel pulls his shorts down his thighs and tucks his cock away, the wet spot your cunt had made on him beyond visible as he stretches himself out. He fishes around in a drawer in the galley for his baby wipes and joins you back at the console. He takes them to your face, wiping down where his cum had hit your skin. He even dabs gently at your thighs. Orgasm bliss clings to the edges of your vision still, and you can’t help but lean into him as he takes care of you.

“Could take you for a real ride, now,” Joel says with a moderate shrug. “Nice cove on the west side of the lake, good for a quick swim. I’m sure your dad would throw a fit if he knew, but I’m sure you’re good at keepin’ secrets, too. Got a real good mouth on ya.”

You playfully punch his shoulder with a roll of your eyes, and in that moment, it feels like you’ve known Joel much longer than you have at all. Like this isn’t your first time on his boat, and this wasn’t his first time being in your mouth. “Alright,” you begrudgingly smile at him. “Whatever you say, old man.”

It’s his turn to roll his eyes as he starts the engine.

#vetty's words 𓇢𓆸 #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller/reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #✏️ game club

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eldritch-thrumming · 3 months

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what, like it’s hard?, pt. one

“it’s just that… if i want to win a seat in congress by the time i’m thirty, i need to find someone who’s serious about my career. not some little elementary school teacher that cares more about his students than what he’s wearing on my campaign stops,” tommy tells steve, as they’re sitting in quite possibly the fanciest restaurant steve’s ever step foot in. the menu hadn’t even included any prices.

“but… i’m seriously in love with you.” steve feels like his whole world is falling apart. just last week he’d been so sure that tommy was getting ready to propose. he’d introduced steve to his family—they’d spent a week out on martha’s vineyard for a family reunion at which steve had met tommy’s great-grandmother, hands laden with rings as she’d winked when tommy had asked for a private conversation. steve had been so sure that conversation was about the family ring.

“and i love you too, baby, but look. you don’t want to have to leave your students for half the year to come on the campaign trail with me, do you?” tommy asks, not even really looking at steve. he continues to just eat his stupid dinner as if he’s not ripping steve’s heart out at this very moment.

and steve can’t help but think how silly this all is, because it’s not like tommy’s actually running for anything right now. steve doesn’t even teach yet, beyond the two days a week he does his student teaching. they’re only 22, they haven’t even graduated northwestern with their bachelors degrees! but tommy’s saying these things as if they’re all real, right now.

“and i’m off to harvard next fall. it’s not like we’ll stay together while i’m there and you’re still here, right?”

and the thing is, steve had actually thought he’d be going with tommy to boston. they’re both set to graduate in the spring, steve with his degree in education and tommy with a dual major in pre-law and political science. they hadn’t really ever talked about it, but they’d been together since the beginning of their sophomore year. so yes, steve had thought they’d still be together when tommy started at harvard law.

but now steve’s starting to feel extra stupid.

“so… what? you’re breaking up with me?” steve starts to feel his chest tightening, like he might cry. he can’t believe that two hours ago he thought he’d been getting ready for a proposal.

“don’t think of it as a breakup, stevie… think of it as a conscious uncoupling. we’re just moving in two different directions. i’ll be at harvard law next semester and you’ll be…” tommy gives him a look of slight disdain—steve has never seen tommy look at him like that. waitstaff? sure. his driver? absolutely. but it’s never been directed at steve before. “well, you’ll be teaching snot-nosed six year olds. we’re on different paths.”

and that’s what truly makes steve’s blood boil. his passion for teaching and education is one of his greatest qualities and he’d thought that had been part of the reason tommy loved him. he didn’t realize that tommy loved him in spite of that. he’s not gonna let some asshole like tommy montgomery hagan iii tell him he’s no good.

so he doesn’t respond. he just takes the linen napkin off his lap and throws it on his half-eaten steak dinner and marches out of the restaurant.

tommy doesn’t even follow him out.

~*~

“oh steve… i’m sorry,” robin says to him about an hour later while steve lays his head in her lap on their dingy couch.

“it’s not even that he broke up with me,” he explains through tears. “it’s that he basically said i was worthless. like i couldn’t do anything better than teaching. as if teaching isn’t even an admirable profession! where would he be without his teachers, huh? isn’t this all about going to stupid harvard? what does he think the professors there actually do? knit?”

“is this a bad time to tell you that i always kind of hated him?” robin says, maybe trying to get him to laugh. but it kind of surprises steve. he sits up, knocking her hands from where they’ve been carding through his hair in the process.

“you did?! no, you didn’t.” he searches robin’s face for a moment and then sighs. “why didn’t you say anything? you could’ve saved me a whole lot of wasted time.”

“babe, you were so gooey-eyed for that guy, nothing i said was gonna change that. a crowbar couldn’t have pried you away from him. but you have to know he was an asshole.” when steve stares at her blankly, she huffs. “steve, he used to offer to cover the whole tab when we went out. how often did he ever actually pay, even for his own drinks? he made poor jonathan cry the last time we were all here for game night, just because jonathan asked for clarification on the rules for pictionary.” steve is still staring at her. “he tried to stiff argyle by offering him a flight on his dad’s private jet instead of paying for his weed and we all know he doesn’t even have access to the jet. dude was cheap as fuck and not even nice about it.”

steve thinks about it. it was kind of true. tommy was a horrible tipper—steve usually laid down a couple of twenties when they went to dinner together when tommy wasn’t looking. he can remember more than a few times where the guy had sent their food back even though it had looked perfectly wonderful to steve. so… okay, maybe robin had a point.

steve tells her as much, then adds, “but he was always nice to me.”

robin snorts. “are you kidding? he’s stood you up so many times i can’t even remember all of them. remember that time he said his first impression of you was that you weren’t as hot as your pictures? who says that to the person they’re dating?”

steve groans and lays his head back down in her lap.

“okay, so maybe you have a point about that too. but i was gonna marry him, rob. what do i do now?” he knows he’s whining, but he feels just a little bit entitled to it right now.

“i don’t know, babe. get over it, i guess. welcome to the world of us singles. it sucks out here.” steve can hear the fondness in robin’s voice as she says it, but still. it does sting just a little.

they sit there in silence for a while, with robin running her hands through his hair again. it’s so soothing that he almost jumps out of his skin when she speaks again.

“hey, you know what would be super funny?” she’s laughing a little as she says it.

“what?” steve had been dozing just a little and his voice sounds muffled by fatigue.

“if you got into harvard and just showed up on the first day. imagine the look on his face.”

steve laughs at how ridiculous that sounds. like he could get into harvard. plus, he’s got teaching to think about. he doesn’t have a place yet, but he knows he’ll get one soon.

but as he sits there with robin’s hands stroking through his hair, he begins to daydream about how shocked tommy would be. about how he’d have no choice but to eat his words when steve proves himself by getting into one of the most competitive programs in the country. about how good it would feel to prove the bastard wrong.

“robin?” she hums in response. “you’re a goddamn genius.”

~*~

“dingus, are you sure you want to do this?”

the spring semester starts in three days. it’s their last semester at northwestern and there’s nothing but great big darkness on the horizon of steve’s future. he hasn’t slept in two days, busy studying, thick workbooks piled around around him at the kitchen table. he knows what he must look like, over-caffeinated with bruises under his eyes.

“i’m sure.” steve has his lsat exam in one week. “i have to take the exam this week. apps are due by march first.”

“no, steve, i don’t mean taking the test. i mean applying at all. it’s clearly more stress than it’s worth. do you even want to go to law school?” robin sounds concerned and normally steve would think it’s very sweet, but currently it does nothing but irritate him.

“i could,” he responds grumpily.

robin sighs. “i just mean… is this worth it?”

steve looks up then and sees her biting her lip, clearly worried about him. he puts his pencil down and stops the timer on his phone, giving her his full attention.

“this isn’t just about tommy.” robin gives him a skeptical look and it’s his turn to sigh. “it’s really not. maybe it started out that way, maybe it was just a stupid joke to get revenge on the asshole, but now it’s more than that. it’s proving that i can do something unexpected of me.” he swallows. “no one even believed i would get into college. i was just some stupid jock in high school who’d never amount to anything. and then i got in to northwestern and i was so shocked and happy. but i found out that my dad had actually pulled a bunch of strings. so i hadn’t gotten in on my own merits. he didn’t think i could. but now…” he runs a hand through his hair nervously. he’s never said any of this out loud before. “he’s not around now. there’s no one to help me. no safety net. if i can do this, it’ll prove something to me. something that maybe i don’t really believe yet.”

he expects robin to say something about external validation being a corrupting force and identity built on academic achievement being solely a losing game, but she doesn’t. instead, she sits down across the table from him and picks up a workbook.

“okay,” she says. “what do we have to do?”

~*~

“mail here?” steve calls out when he hears the front door close behind robin.

there’s a moment that feels like a pause. “yeah, it’s here.”

steve practically sprints from his bedroom to his living room. robin holds a single white envelope in her hand. steve all but snatches it from her.

his fingers move to rip it open, but then he hesitates. he thrusts it back towards robin. “i can’t,” he tells her. “you do it.”

her eyebrows shoot up. “you’re sure?” steve nods. he watches her rip the envelope open, bouncing on his feet. she scans the page and then she’s smiling.

steve grabs the paper from her. “oh my god?!” he yells. “oh my god!”

robin practically jumps into his arms. “179, baby! harvard law here we come.”

~*~

even after such a successful run at the lsats, there’s still the little matter of actually getting in to the school. steve’s only experience with the academic application process was with undergrad and it appears that applying for anything beyond a bachelors degree is an entirely different ball game. he’s so out of his depth that he’s forced to turn to grad school message boards for advice and tips of how to get in. it seems like everyone else is applying to a hundred different schools while steve’s only applying to one. he learns this is a terrible strategy for planning one’s future, but that doesn’t really matter to steve. for him, it’s harvard or nothing.

there are so many different parts of the application that it makes steve’s head spin. there’s the statement of purpose and the personal statement—the difference between those two requires robin’s careful and slow explanation about three separate times. then there’s the writing sample and the application and the recommendations and the transcripts and and and

but with robin’s help, steve completes each component and successfully sends his materials by the day of the deadline.

steve’s never been a patient person. no one on earth would accuse him of that, so even he can tell that he’s getting on robin’s nerves every day as he practically pounces on her when she returns from collecting the mail.

and then one day, finally, at the end of april, she comes through the front door and clutched in her hand is a big, thick white envelope emblazoned with the words ‘harvard law’ in bold, beautiful crimson red.

~*~

“last chance to back out,” robin says smiling as she swings herself up into the passengers seat of their rented u-haul.

“nah.” steve returns her smile as he slides his sunglasses from his hair onto his face. “let’s get out of this dump.”

and with that, they leave their first apartment behind, headed to the coast.

[wanted to finish this completely before posting but my benadryls kicking in and i have no self control. eventual steddie, promise! no tag list for this one, sorry!! it’s giving me anxiety on the other one lol absolutely not edited, if u see a typo no u don’t. i wrote this on my phone in a feverish frenzy. also, i originally invented someone for the role of warner but then i was like ‘IDIOT!!!!! why would u not choose tommy?????’ so if there’s a name in here that shouldn’t be, no there isn’t.]

#the not as hot as ur pictures thing is a real thing my ex said to me after we’d been together for like six months lol called me ugly 😭#legally blonde au #steddie #steddie fic #steddie legally blonde au #this will EVENTUALLY be steddie if i write more lol #robin buckley #steve harrington #platonic stobin #steddie fanfic #steddie ficlet #i’m setting it up!!!!!#eddie will be a bartender not a law guy sorry!!!! lawyer!eddie just don’t feel right to me #steddie fanfiction #steddie blurb #guess what i watched tonight #well i also watched mean girls lol #here have this half finished thing #i wanted to finish it before posting but

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lezbianchae · 7 months

Text

When I say it’s okay.

Momo G!P x (fem reader)

Momo (reader as Nayeons Little sister) sneak fucking you at a sleep over.

Warnings: G!P, breeding k!nk, Exhibitionism

1.4K words

Momo had always had the hots for you. It was really hard to hide your relationship with momo in front of the other members, especially your big sister Nayeon. Nayeon would be extremely protective over you, I mean you were technically her baby, she’d hurt anyone who’d want to hurt you. She never found it suspicious how close you were with momo, Nayeon was just as close with Momo, so she just assumed it just because you 2 were siblings, and that she had a soft spot for you. Was she wrong, Momo just really wanted to screw you and wanted you to herself.

Nayeon had invited you over for Twice’s sleep over. It’s a thing the girls do where after every tour they spend time with each other and spend the night at someone’s dorm. This year the sleep over was at Nayeon and Momo’s dorm. Since Nayeon new how much you liked seeing Momo and how you were clingy towards her, she decided to have you over, all the members were okay with it Since you’re Nayeons little sis, you might as well be Twice’s too.

As you arrived to Nayeon and Momo dorm, you could already hear the conversations, and the movements happening in the room along with the smell of fried foods. You knocked on the door hearing footsteps coming towards it, as you’re greeted by a lovely bubbly face, Sana.

“Y/N! Come in! Come in!” She grabbed your arm and pulled you in with excitement. You almost tripped due to the sudden pull. You enter as you take off your shoes in the front of the door.

You see your Older sister, and the other members doing all sorts of things, Jeongyeon, Jihyo , Momo and Nayeon playing what ever competitive game on the switch, playing on the TV. Tzuyu and Dahyun trying to bake some sort of pastry (it smelt burnt…) and Mina and Chaeyoung watching Tzuyu and Dahyun probably burning down the kitchen. As Nayeon noticed you enter she had pause the game, causing the other girls to groan after the sudden stop. But had quickly changed their mood after your unnies saw you.

“Y/n! Y/n! You’re here!” Nayeon greeted, kissing your cheek while rubbing your head, causing your hair to be messy as you try to push off your older sister. Momo quickly dropped her control after seeing you, and had walked over eagerly but to wanting to seem desperate at the same time. She’s been dying to see you, she hasn’t seen you since part 2 of the tour stared.

“Y/n..” her eye sparked, she gave you a hug, while getting a whiff of your hair she always liked the way you smelt.

“Hi momoring.” You say as you held her hand, caressing her knuckles. She gave a soft smile, as you blushed and looked down at your socks.

The rest of the afternoon was filled with laughs, eating, playing Mario party on Mina’s switch. You were starting to get scared of Jihyo since she kept losing so much to which is quite rare to see. The other members were starting to fear her as well..

As everyone slowly felt tired, they all agreed that it was best they that they would get ready to sleep, and go out for breakfast tomorrow.

Nayeon and Jeongyeon helped set up the blankets, everyone will be sleeping in the living room. As everyone else got ready for bed, and you were getting ready bushing your teeth in the bathroom, a knock on the bathroom door was herd.

“Y/n..? It’s me Momo. Can I come in?”

“Yeah, that’s okay!” You shout.

Momo walked in, closing the door behind her, running into you and giving you a proper hug, leading her mouth on the crook of your neck, kissing it. Giving it a few nibbles.

“M-momoring…” you let out a few small grunts, Momo pulling off of you to look down at you. “I missed you so much y/n… not being able to see you has drove me crazy… I need you more then anything right now..” She tried to kiss you but stopped her before she could.

“M-momoring.. we can’t right now.. my sister is right outside! I don’t wanna risk it. I can’t risk..not being able to see you..can we do this when we’re more in private…? Please..?” Momo frowned. She needed you badly. But also wanted to respect you and your wishes. Even if she was desperate. As much as she needed you, you were right.

“Fine.. but can you at least sleep with me..? I’d like to hold you.” You gave in a thought.

“O-okay.. I mean it won’t look too weird right?” Momo pecked your cheek. “Yeah.” you continued to bush your teeth and Momo left to get a spot for the 2 of you.

“Alright girls! I Hope you Found a spot to sleep on tonight. Rest well.” Jihyo shouted, she turned off the lights. As you were crawling your way over to Momo’s spot, Nayeon gave a look to you, you ignored hoping it wasn’t a bad thing you were sleeping with Momo. Momo made room for you, you layed next to her. As you turn to your back, Momo spooning you as she put on the covers on top of both of you. You pressed your butt against Momo. It was already enough you were torturing her like this. Your sent, your body right pressed up against hers. It was driving her crazy, she couldn’t help but grind against your butt.

You noticed the sudden movement. Momo grinding a bit deeper. Her cock poking you.

“Momoring, what are you doing!” You whispered.

“I’m sorry Y/n I really can’t fucking help myself anymore. I really need you, right now. Please…” she was begging.

You felt bad for having her in this state, she needed some relief. You nodded, allowing her to use her to use you.

She grasped on your pajama pants, pulling them down, leaving you in your panties. She pulled her pajama pants and boxers. She slides herself between your thighs.

“F-fuck..” Momo quietly groans into your neck, she starts rubbing herself back and forth between your legs, she sucks on your neck to keep herself quiet. You held yourself still as Momo was grinding her cock on your clothed cunt, you can feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

“Y-y/n I’m so close..take of your panties… please.. I need to be in you so so bad.” You obeyed her immediately, sliding them off, allowing her to enter you. Momo sliding one of her hands in her shirt, groping your bare small breast and pinching your nipple.

Momo inserts herself in you slowly, She has you a whimpering mess, taking in the feeling of your walls closing around her cock. “F-fuck..you’re so warm.. you’re gonna make me cum by this alone..fuck..”

“M-momoring.. start moving..hhgh..” you moaned, which only cause Momo to get crazier. She started fucking you slowly to avoid any skin slapping noises, as you kept whimpering, gripping her hand tightly as a desperation to keep quiet, Momo stoped. “Shhh.. be a good girl and keep quiet for me okay? Can you do that for m-mommy?”

“Y-yes..” you said quietly. “That’s it, that’s my girl.” The praise had you crazy , you started moving by yourself,Momo moving the same pace.

As Momo went faster, it became so much harder to be able to keep quiet. Momo kissed your shoulder and neck, as she came close. “Please let me get you pregnant, fuck.. have my kids y/n please.” You nod violently, allowing her to finish in you, pumping her load in you having you to moan in the pillow. And there Momo was, practically breeding her best friends little sister.

After calming down from your high, Momo kissed your face frantically, her cock buried deep in you, while giving you pecks on the cheek.

“Y/n you did so good for me.. I’m so proud, I hope you’re pregnant with our kids and we’ll be happy mommies together. I love you so much baby.” All you could do was nod, you were so tried from Momo fucking you so all you did was kiss her hand, as momo wrapped her arm around around you. Sleeping while being connected with Momo.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The next morning you two cleaned up, and after you and momo got out of the bathroom, Nayeon stared at you 2, in her big sister stance. She was especially staring hard Momo. She knew what Momo did and it was gonna be a rough morning.

#Momo #twice #momo twice #momo x reader #momo x fem reader #g!p momo #twice smut #twice x reader #kpop smut #smut #writing #teehee #spicy stuff

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maybaenk · 1 year

Text

Moth to a flame

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Summary: She always goes back to him, no matter how much JJ hurts her. This time, however, is different and JJ slowly sees that.

Warnings: cursing, smut

Like a moth to a flame

I'll pull you in, I'll pull you back to what you need initially

It's just one call away

And you'll leave him, you're loyal to me

But this time I let you be

JJ had seen this before.

Y/N being sick of his shit. Tired of the way he’d constantly lead her on and then shutting her out completely. He didn’t want to be in a relationship with her, so she’d find someone else.

Someone sweeter, someone who’d want her. She’d find someone who’d give her all the attention she needed.

He watched them sitting on a log, the boy’s hand on her leg. She was smiling at him.

He thought about how she’d immediately go back to him if he called her right now. He imagined the way she would moan as his hands roamed her body, buried inside of her and the way the idiot she was looking at would be nowhere near the back of her mind. His hands hitched to grab his phone and make her leave the poor guy, but he knew it wasn’t right.

Y/N deserved something better, someone who wasn’t as messed up as him.

His jaw was tensed as he watched them, his eyes never leaving the pair. The guy was getting closer, his hand resting on Y/N’s thigh. Her eyes were happy, she was happy, but they didn’t sparkle like they did when she looked at him.

Suddenly, those same very eyes were looking right back at him. Her lips parted slightly, almost in surprise. He didn’t back down, continuing to stare at her.

Y/N knew that look. He was challenging her.

Go on.

He looked so good in his black tank and with his red cap on, she itched to get up and reach him. To touch him.

But then Y/N remembered their last encounter, the things he had said to her.

She was waiting for him, sitting in the porch at the Chateau. The old couch was comfortable and in her anxious state she almost wanted to lay down and let the sleep embrace her, but the nerves were eating her alive and she needed to talk to him.

It was eleven in the night when JJ got back, she heard his bike first. His footstep just minutes after and finally he was walking up the steps of the porch.

“Hey.” He said, surprised to see her, “What’s up?”

She couldn’t even look at him, “JJ.”

Her tone was low, disappointed, but always so sweet.

“What’s got you looking so down, baby?” He walked closer to her, raising a hand to touch her face but she turned it to the side.

“Someone told me about the girl from last night.” She spoke softly, “The blonde one?”

JJ took a step back, a sigh leaving his mouth. Y/N didn’t dare look at him, afraid she would cry.

“Who told you?” He sounded pissed off, and she found herself to be offended.

She finally looked up at him, “What does it matter, JJ?”

“It matters, okay? It’s none of their business, or yours for the matter.” He raised his voice.

Y/N looked taken aback and he almost apologized.

“I thought that— that-“

“What, Y/N?” He groaned, “What did you think? You know we’re not together, we’ve been over this.”

Her lips trembled, but she didn’t show him. She looked down, on the verge of crying. The sigh she let out was shaky.

“You didn’t want me to go out with Sean three weeks ago. I stayed with you. I’m such an idiot.” Y/N put her hands on her face.

JJ knew she was crying. It made his heart fall.

“Fucking doesn’t mean we’re together, Y/N.” He accused her.

“You know it’s not just that for me.” She finally looked at him, tears running down her cheeks, “You were my first time.”

Her voice was feeble, and JJ wanted to beat himself up.

“Why do you keep pushing me away?” She stood up.

He took another step back.

“It’s not like that for me and you know it.” His tone was stern now, “It’s not my fault you keep coming back to me, Y/N.”

JJ would never forget the look on her face.

“Right.” She nodded, head low as she surpassed him.

He watched the girl get on her car and leave, he could see her raise her hand to swipe the tears away before she was driving off.

That was the last time they’d seen each other, Y/N hadn’t been around the pogues since then.

She needed to remember the many times he had done this. He had broken her heart so many times she couldn’t let herself be a fool once again.

Y/N looked into his blue eyes one more time before shaking her head and turning away from him.

It caught him off guard. JJ expected her to shy away from the situation, to come back running to him.

This time was different.

'Cause he seems like he's good for you

And he makes you feel like you should

And all your friends say he's the one

His love for you is true

“It doesn’t bother you?” John B was speaking to him.

The blonde’s eyes were set on the couple sitting a few tables away from them at The Wreck.

The pogues had come in long after the two and found them already eating their food there. JJ didn’t expect Y/N to be still going out with the guy, so his heart missed a beat upon seeing his girl having a date with the idiot.

“He’s temporary.” He gave John B a smirk, although his friend could see the jealousy in his eyes.

“You’re so lame.” Kiara snorted, eyes on her food.

“Agreed.” Commented Pope.

“Just talk to her, bro.” The curly haired girl continued.

“About what?” JJ rolled his eyes.

The girl scoffed, not having the strength to put up with his act. She returned her attention to her food before Pope jokingly elbowed her and the blonde couldn’t help but wonder how good it must feel to be so effortlessly in love, without any problems and doubts in the way.

It didn’t help that Sarah and John B were also sitting in front of him, looking so in love it made him almost sick.

It wasn’t even ten minutes later that he heard a sweet voice by their table.

“Hey, guys.” Y/N was standing beside their table, a smile on her face as she tried avoiding JJ’s gaze. The douchebag was standing awkwardly behind her, waiting for the interaction to be over.

“Hey, Y/N/N.” Sarah grinned up at her, trying to fight off John B as he tried getting ketchup on her face.

The others greeted her too, everyone expect for JJ.

She had a disappointed look on her face as she listened to John B.

“We missed you today, think you’re gonna make it tonight?”

Y/N appreciated how the pogues didn’t mention the distance she had put between them and herself lately. They clearly knew about JJ and wanted to leave her be.

The blond was staring at the boy, so much that he was starting to be visibly uncomfortable. He scratched his neck under the scrutinizing gaze. Y/N noticed.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Me and Jake had planned this days ago.” She felt awkward, he could tell, “This is Jake, by the way.”

The others smiled at Jake, all but JJ, as expected. He just waved, a nervous smile on his face as he noticed.

“Jake, huh?” He finally spoke up, a slight smirk on his face, “Didn’t expect him to be your type, Y/N.” His eyes were finally on her as he blatantly ran them over her figure, especially focusing on the way the dress she was wearing accentuated her breasts.

“What do you mean?” Jake asked, an irritated expression on his face.

“She knows what I mean.” JJ’s eyes never looked away from Y/N’s.

Her cheeks brightened before she looked away.

She wanted to slap him. And then kiss him. But mostly slap that smirk off his face.

It wasn’t her fault he looked so handsome right now.

“Shut up, JJ.” She rolled her eyes, although he could see the way the pink lingered on her cheeks making her all flustered, “Bye, guys.”

She grabbed Jake’s arm and just like that they were gone.

He watched them leave before John B’s voice caught his attention.

“C’mon, man. You know I love you, but either you step up or leave her alone.”

“He seems like a good guy, JJ. I haven’t seen her so at peace for like, I don’t even know.” Kie scolded him, “You always do this, you don’t want her then you get all jealous and weird.”

JJ didn’t respond, instead their words about how Jake was making his girl feel resonating in his head. He thought about it; why was this thing lasting so long?

Was he really the guy for her? The good, well mannered wealthy guy?

But does he know you call me when he sleeps?

But does he know the pictures that you keep?

But does he know the reasons that you cry?

Or tell me, does he know where your heart lies?

Where it truly lies

It was one A.M. and JJ couldn’t sleep. He kept tossing around in his bed and the minute his eyes closed, visions and nightmares of his sweet girl moaning under another man clouded his mind.

What was happening to him? Why was he imagining her fucking the idiot?

He guessed it was his worst fear, her being taken away from him forever, someone else touching her.

He was just about to get up to get a glass of water when he heard his phone ring. He raised an eyebrow, wondering who the hell could it be this late at night.

He reached for the phone on his nightstand and he swore his heart missed a beat when her name flashed upon the screen.

“Y/N.” He answered, he couldn’t help but be worried about the reason she was calling this late when the two of them weren’t even on speaking terms. Had something happened?

“J.” She breathed, her voice a sweet whine.

Was she…?

“Y/N?” He repeated, a small sense of satisfaction beginning to grow in him. He could read her like an open book.

“I miss you,” She whispered, “I missed your voice.”

There she was. Coming back to him.

She always came back to him.

“Yeah?” He smirked, sitting up against the headboard.

“You know I miss you, come over?”

He felt his heart beat faster.

“You’re drunk, Y/N.” He answered.

He heard her sigh and shuffling around on the other side of the phone.

“I’ve just had a couple of drinks with the girls.” She sounded annoyed, her words slurred.

He was glad she was home safe.

“Don’t you miss me?” She countered, and JJ could hear her getting on the bed.

“You know I miss you, baby.” He gave her the truth, “But you’re drunk. You’re gonna regret this tomorrow. What about Jake?”

“As if you could care less about Jake.”

He chuckled, knowing it was the truth. He just wanted to speak some sense into her knowing she was drunk and not wanting to take advantage of her.

“You’re right, you know that?” He heard her humming in agreement, “But you’re still drunk. Are you tired, baby?”

“A bit.” She yawned, and he couldn’t help but feel his heart swell.

“Can you lay down and close your eyes for me?” He suggested, voice low and sweet and she was entranced by his voice.

“Hmm.”

“Did you close your eyes?”

“Yeah. I still wish you were here, though.” Y/N went on, her voice sleepy.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

Yeah

You should be with him, I let you go from time

You should stay with him

Y/N had avoided the pogues like the plague. They hadn’t seen her in almost a week, Kie being especially disappointed in her best friend.

What she didn’t know was that she wasn’t avoiding them to be with some stupid boy, it was because she was embarrassed about her call to JJ.

But he knew this and, although he kept silent as not to expose her, the deep feeling of satisfaction was even bigger in him as he watched Y/N and Jake by his spot on a keg at the kegger.

Y/N had just arrived, she was on his arm but JJ could see she was nervous.

Her eyes were scanning the whole crowd, not sure how to approach her friends. She hoped the blonde hadn’t said anything to them but deep down she knew he hadn’t. She knew him.

She spotted Kiara having a conversation with some people she didn’t recognize and didn’t want to miss the opportunity. She wasn’t with the pogues and she had to talk to her.

She wanted to talk to Sarah too, but she guessed she was with John B where John B was, JJ was too.

“Hey, Jake.” She drew his attention, “I’m gonna head over there to say hi to Kiara. See you later, alright?”

He nodded, plastering a kiss on her cheek before the two parted and she was walking to her best friend.

“Hey.” She spoke up once she got there, “Can we talk?”

Kiara looked at her before a smile took over her face, “Look who decided to show her face.”

“Yeah, sorry.” She sheepishly countered, “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

The other girl nodded, saying her byes to the teens she had just been chatting with before grabbing her best friend’s hand and walking a few feet away from the group.

Then she stood, waiting for Y/N to speak up, “What’s up?”

Y/N looked around her to ensure none of the pogues were around. She had yet to see them.

“So…” She was so embarrassed, “I called JJ when we got back from the bar a week ago, I was drunk — but you know that, and asked him to come over.” She covered her face with her hands as she finished, not wanting to see the amused expression on Kie’s face.

She heard her laugh, “That’s why you’ve been avoiding us. You could’ve told me sooner.”

She removed her hands from her eyes, “I know but it was so embarrassing.”

Kiara chuckled, “God, Y/N, you’re such a simp.”

The girl’s cheek brightened, a laugh leaving her mouth. She knew it was true.

“What about Jake?” Her best friend asked.

Y/N just shrugged.

“Girl.” Kie deadpanned, ready to smack her friend.

“What am I supposed to do?” She sadly told her, “It’s not like JJ wants something to do with me. At least not anything serious. I love him but Jake is a good guy and he treats me well, don’t I deserve that?”

The curly haired girl sighed.

“Of course you do. But you may end up hurting him as long as JJ’s on your mind.”

Y/N knew she was right. She just wanted to forget about everything and not have to worry about anyone.

The two girls continued to chat and laugh while the night escalated.

JJ had watched a bit of the interaction just to be sure Kie wouldn’t lash out on Y/N. He knew she wouldn’t but the girl was unpredictable. He was glad when he saw them laughing together just a few minutes later and returned to his beer and his conversation with Pope and John B.

“Hey, guys, I’m gonna go get a refill.” JB announced after a while, his red cup empty in his hand.

“I’m coming too.” Pope got up with him.

“Be right back.” They told him.

He took a sip of his beer and just as his gaze was about to return on a certain girl, he heard a voice from beside him.

“Y/N told me about you two.”

It was Jake, and the blonde couldn’t help but chuckle. He had waited for him to be alone.

He was clearly intimidated by him and didn’t want him to have his friends as back up in case something had happened.

“That bothers you?” JJ looked up at him from his spot on the log, a small smirk on his face.

“Not at all.” His voice was tense, “I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t get in the way.”

He was already beginning to piss him off and it was the second time he opened his mouth to talk to him. However, he tried maintaining his calm and laid his hands behind him on the log, gaze scrutinizing the other teen who was standing in front of him.

“Sounds to me like it does.” He just answered.

Jake’s jaw ticked.

“No offense, man, but how could it?” He looked JJ up and down, trying to take a dig at him.

JJ laughed humorlessly, it wasn’t certainly the money that made Y/N come back to him every single time.

“I don’t think that what she cares about.” JJ smiled up at the boy, a hint behind his eyes.

“What’s happening?” They heard a voice just as Jake was about to respond.

“Nothing.” He quickly spoke up.

“Just your boyfriend trying to make sure I won’t get in the way of your relationship.” JJ retorted, Y/N could hear the amusement in his voice, “Nothing I can guarantee though, big boy.”

Jake launched himself towards the boy, an angry expression on his face and hadn’t it been for Y/N, who promptly put herself between the two boys, he would’ve tackled JJ to the ground.

But she had, and now he stood up, a new found rage behind his eyes that intimidated even Y/N.

The girl knew about his anger issues, about all the times he’d been in fights. She knew about his dad and the way all JJ waited for was to unleash his anger in these kind of situations. He’d learned how to fight from the master himself; Jake didn’t stand a chance.

“You want to be the tough guy, yeah?” He smiled, it made chills go down the girl’s spine, “I’ll show you how though you are.”

“Stop. What the fuck, guys?” She exasperated, arms in the air.

“You tell your boyfriend to chill before I do it.” JJ snarled.

“Jake, are you out of your mind?” Y/N looked at the boy accusingly.

“Why are you taking his side?” He spit.

“Aren’t you the one who started this nonsense?” She raised an eyebrow.

The commotion was starting to draw attention, and JJ could soon spot Kie making her way over.

“Why are you taking his side?” Jake repeated, an offended look painting his angry features.

“It’s not about sides, Jake.” She crossed her arms, “It’s about you coming here and starting this shit. What the hell are you doing? He’s my friend.”

Jake scoffed, and even JJ was tempted to. But he stayed silent, glaring at the idiot from behind Y/N.

“Friend my ass.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, pushing a hand through her long locks.

“What’s going on?” Kie’s voice resonated in the air.

“Yeah, what’s going on?” John B and Pope were there too and Y/N just wanted to be home and away from everyone. Sarah, who’d been with some of her old friends from the kook academy until now, was there too now, her hand in John B’s.

“It’s me or him right now, Y/N.” Jake spoke up, completely ignoring the girl’s friends.

JJ chuckled, although he could feel the nerves starting to form. What if she left with him?

“Oh, so that’s what’s going on.” John B’s amused face was making Y/N want to smack him too.

“What?” There was an expression on disbelief on her face and JJ wondered how she didn’t see this coming. He was an idiot after all.

“You heard me.”

Y/N looked back and forth between the two of them, and she knew it was time she made a decision.

She knew where her heart laid. A golden boy with hair the color of the sun and eyes the color of the sky was who her heart would always belong to. She thought about his touch, his scent, his kisses. She thought about the way he would make her feel beautiful and loved. But then she thought about the way he would make her feel so worthless she had never felt so alone. She thought about the days she couldn’t get a hold of him, or the times he’d been with others and she’d wondered why he couldn’t love her.

It’s not like that for me and you know it. He’d said to her.

So she chose her mind. She chose the boy who’d been nice to her all along. He’d took her on dates and bought her flowers and although he didn’t make her heart beat faster she knew he was the one who made her warm and safe.

She made a step towards Jake and without ever looking back, she said her feeble byes to her friends and walked away.

JJ felt his heart shutter. He didn’t think it was possible up until then.

He looked at Jake and felt the rage swirling in his veins at the grin he was giving him. He thought about tackling him to the ground and beating him up but what would the point be? Y/N had made up her mind and she’d chosen him.

He watched them walk away before he turned around and stormed out of the beach.

He didn’t stop when his friends called out his name, nor when he heard Kie beg him to stop.

But what did he expect? He knew what he’d said to her that night. He knew.

As Y/N left the party in Jake’s car, all she could think about was how JJ hadn’t mentioned their call to the boy.

'Cause he seems like he's good for you

And he makes you feel like you should

And all your friends say he's the one

His love for you is true (hey)

Y/N felt suffocated in the tight dress she was wearing.

Smile and introduce yourself to everyone. Jake had told her and she did just that, wanting for this to be over.

It was Midsummer’s and he’d invited her to attend with him and his family. She guessed this would make things official.

She felt uncomfortable the whole time, this was not her habitat and everyone knew that.

Kie was there, too, forced by her parents, but Y/N didn’t find it in herself to find this of any comfort. That was how sad and lonely she felt these days.

It had been a week since the kegger and things weren’t great for her. She hated herself for this but she missed a certain blond and nothing could take him off her mind no matter what.

She’d seen Kie and Sarah two days ago but even her best friends hadn’t been able to cheer her up.

“I can’t fucking believe it.” She heard Jake growl from beside her.

“What?” She looked up.

She saw him looking at something in front of them and she followed his gaze and there, all the way across the room, was JJ, clad in a waiter’s uniform and serving drinks.

She couldn’t explain the way her heart reacted upon seeing him even if she wanted too. She felt alive for the first time in a week.

“Of course he’d be here too. The guy’s everywhere.”

“Stop.” She deadpanned, giving him a nasty look.

But when she returned her eyes to the boy, her heart made a leap when noticing those same eyes she’d been dreaming about all week, were looking right back at her. There was a strange emotion behind them, one she’d never seen before. She wanted to run over there and hug him and kiss him, but knew she couldn’t.

JJ, on the other hand, didn’t expect her to be there either. His heart felt like it was breaking even more upon seeing her there with him, but then he noticed her sad eyes and all he wanted to do was get to her and make everything that was hurting her go away.

The exchange of longing looks was quickly interrupted by Jake who hooked their arms and pulled her away to go meet yet another disgusting kook when his parents called him over.

She looked back at JJ while Jake dragged her away and her heart missed a beat when she noticed his eyes following her.

The night passed quickly, JJ couldn’t wait to get out of there and get wasted to forget the way she looked on his arm, with his family and dressed like one of them.

He guessed it was his own fault. He’d been the one to push her away, so why was he so angry? He’d seen the way Jake tended to Y/N all night, the way his attention was constantly on her. He behaved like a gentleman and he knew then why she’d chosen him.

He gave her everything he couldn’t.

Maybe it was for the best.

But does he know you call me when he sleeps? (No, no)

But does he know the pictures that you keep? (Oh)

But does he know the reasons that you cry?

Or tell me, does he know where your heart lies?

Where it truly lies

He didn’t know she’d be laying in her bed just hours laters, tears running down her cheeks. She felt so lonely, it was breaking her heart.

She had everything she wanted in a relationship so why was she feeling this way?

It was the pictures on her phone.

The one where JJ stood behind her, his arms around her frame and his head on hers.

The one where he kissed her cheek.

The one where they laid naked in bed, her arms around his neck.

The one where they smiled at the camera.

The one where they slept on the hammock entangled in each other that JB had taken.

Her favorite was one Kie had taken; it pictured them sitting on the couch, her legs thrown over JJ’s. She had stolen his cap and she was putting it on her head. The thing she loved was the adoring look he had on his face as she looked at her, a small smile on his lips.

There were so many she couldn’t even scroll through all of them because she felt her heart shutter at the thought of never having him this close again.

Right here with me, babe

Where it truly lies

My bed, babe

Where it truly lies

In my arms, babe

Where it truly lies

It was two days laters when Y/N decided she’d had enough. She’d been spending her days crying at home, avoiding Jake and never answering his massages nor his calls.

She missed her friends and wanted to bask in the comfort of their presence and this was the only thought in her mind when she showed up that night at the Chateau after meeting up with Jake to end things. He hadn’t taken it very well.

“Look who’s here!” John B had announced.

Seconds later she was engulfed by the comforting embrace of Sarah. She’d almost tackled her to the ground with her hug but Y/N didn’t mind, the familiar touch and perfume of the bubbly blonde almost enough to make her cry again.

She said hi to everyone before she sat down by the fire with them.

She couldn’t help but notice the absence of JJ, and although she was a little disappointed she thought it was better this way; she actually felt relieved.

She was grateful when none of her friends asked her invading questions. They just let her be and enjoyed her presence again, making her feel part of the group again immediately.

She tried keeping up with the conversations and jokes but her mind was very tired. She hadn’t slept in days and now that she felt this much comfort again she just wanted to lay down and rest.

“Hey, John B.” She called for his attention, her voice sweet as always, “Do you think— do you think JJ would mind if I used his bedroom just for a bit? I haven’t slept in days and I feel really tired.”

Sarah threw her a sympathetic look from beside JB, who answered immediately, “Yeah, go ahead. I haven’t seen him all day, I don’t think he’s gonna show up tonight.”

She felt content and at peace in the Chateau. The pogues were her family and she couldn’t love them more. She smell of JJ’s cheap cologne surrounded her and relaxed her whole being. It didn’t surprise when she felt sleep embrace her.

That was until she felt a familiar bike approaching the house before pulling up.

She felt panic rise in her chest as she sat up. Her heartbeat accelerated. What would she say to him?

Too late, the bike had already stopped and minutes later, she felt the door of the Chateau open. She guessed the others told him she was in there.

She scrambled to get up in time and made her way to the door, opening it.

There stood JJ, his hand raised to open it too.

She took a step back, redness exploding on her cheeks and she started stuttering.

“Uh, sorry— sorry J. JB told be you probably wouldn’t be here tonight and I was just trying to sleep but I heard your bike.” She rushed, “I’ll go.”

She tried making her way past him but he grabbed her arm. She shuddered under his familiar touch.

“It’s fine, you can stay. I’ll sleep on the couch.” His eyes never looked away from hers, making her all the more a blushing mess.

“Okay, thanks.” She agreed without even thinking.

What?

They stood there, looking at each other. So much was on their minds they wanted to say, but neither spoke up.

“Okay then, goodnight.” She ended the awkward moment.

Y/N tossed around the bed all night. The thought of his presence just mere meters from her made her heart go crazy. She craved his touch, his presence. But she couldn’t so instead she resoluted to turning around every now and then in hope of sleep engulfing her again.

At four A.M., she decided to get up and get something to drink. JJ would surely be asleep by now.

Her feet carried her to the kitchen lightly.

Her heart jumped to her stomach when she noticed the light of a phone where the couch was. JJ was awake and scrolling through his phone. His raised his eyes from the phone to look at her when he noticed her presence, a surprised look merely taking over his features.

“Oh.” She mumbled, “Sorry, just wanted a glass of water.”

He watched her as she opened the refrigerator and poured herself some water, then quickly drank it. It looked to him as if she wanted to be gone as soon as possible.

“C’mere, Y/N.” She suddenly heard his voice just as she was about to walk back to JJ’s room.

“What?” She whispered, heart thumping against her ribcage.

“Come here.”

She did. She didn’t know why, but she had stopped questioning herself around JJ. It was as if his mere presence made her drunk, her mind never properly working.

She stood in front of him, hands fidgeting at her sides.

JJ grabbed one of them, pulling her towards him. He dragged her down on him until she was straddling him, she gasped as her hands came up to his shoulders for support after the sudden movement.

“What are you doing, JJ?” She asked, panic in her voice.

“I miss us, Y/N.” He simply said, making her heart stop beating.

How could he say something like that so easily?

She wanted to slap him.

“We can’t.”

“I say we can.” He whispered as he got closer, lips millimeters from hers.

She lowered her hands, now pushing back against his chest. He sighed, sitting down against the couch and looking up at her. There was a longing look behind his eyes.

“I can’t.” She repeated, this time making herself very clear.

It was as if Y/N had just thrown a bucket of cold water on him, he looked as if he had sobered up.

“Jake’s an idiot.” He whispered, even the mention of his name irritating him.

“He’s not. He does everything a boyfriend is supposed to.”

He scoffed.

“That’s the only reason you like him for?”

She tried thinking of anything else, but she ended up lying to herself over and over again, for every reason she came up with. Was that really the only thing he liked him for?

Sure, he was a good looking guy, but that wasn’t a reason. He was nice, but a lot of people were. He treated her well. There we go again.

“I deserve to be happy, JJ.” She sadly said.

He knew she was referring to him, his hands itched to grab her, to comfort her.

“I know you do, Y/N/N.” He said.

“Then what is it that you want?” She angrily asked, her hands pushing him again.

Suddenly she was angry, not understanding why he couldn’t let her be. Why he couldn’t let her be happy.

She knew that if she really stopped to think about it, she would have realized what she was feeling now, with Jake, was far from happiness, but nonetheless she took out her anger on him.

And JJ, who couldn’t help but feel like an idiot, couldn’t really answer her question.

What do I want?

“Y/N I-“ She was already getting up to leave when he couldn’t even finish the sentence.

JJ didn’t let her leave this time.

He’d done that again and again, and every time he’d hurt himself and Y/N. He wouldn’t let her go this time.

He grabbed her hips and pulled her down again; she began pushing at him nonstop, fighting the willing to cry.

He could see her eyes getting watery, her lips trembling and she fought against him.

“I want us, Y/N.” He finally told her, grabbing her face with his hands.

Y/N stopped writhing, a few tears cascading down her cheeks. His hands were resting on each side of her face, a thumb wiping them away.

“Stop fooling around, J.”

But he could see the hopeful glint behind her emotional eyes, he could see the way she’d stopped breathing, waiting for him to go on.

He felt his heart hurt a little less knowing she was still waiting for him. Knowing she still wanted him.

“I’m not.” He promised, “I want you, Y/N.”

One of his hands left her face, coming down to rest on her hip. The other continued to caress her cheek as she subconsciously leaned into his comforting touch.

“I can’t do this again, J.” She brokenly whispered, afraid it would be like every other time.

“No, no.” He reassured her, “I mean it this time, baby. I’m serious about me. I’m yours, if you still want me.”

Y/N felt her heart beating so hard against her ribcage she feared he would hear it, too. It felt like some kind of dream.

She’d been in love with this boy for so many years, for so much time that she didn’t think it was possible for him to finally reciprocate her feelings for him.

What she didn’t know, was that he had all along. JJ was just— JJ. He was afraid, and these kind of things were never his forte. He was afraid she would leave like everyone else and he’d get his heart broken, had he ever let her in. So instead he just pushed her away. Time after time.

“What are you saying, J?” Her hands came up to his shoulders again, shaking slightly.

“I’m saying I’m ready, Y/N.” He pushed a strand of hair away from her beautiful face, “No more running away from my feelings, no more denying.”

She just stared at him, too entranced by the whole situation and his words. Her eyes held that adoring look that he loved, making him feel some type of way.

“What do you say?” He asked her.

“I don’t want this to be just because of Jake.” She told him.

He heard the sadness in her voice and saw the fear behind her eyes.

“It’s not that, baby.” He went on, “Seeing you with him just made me realize things. I know you feel nothing for him and I certainly know he doesn’t mean anything to you, alright? But it made realize I can’t stand here and let you go just because I’m so afraid of my feelings. I can’t imagine myself feeling these things for anyone else, Y/N. And I don’t want to push it away any longer.”

Her smile made his heartbeat stutter, and it suddenly felt happy again.

“I’m yours, JJ.”

And then he kissed her.

And it was something Y/N could never describe. She felt happiness again, she felt home.

His arms circled her waist bringing her closer to him. They kissed until the two of them couldn’t breathe, and then they kissed again. And again.

She moaned into his mouth when she felt him underneath her. She moved her hips against his and he groaned, suddenly standing up and carrying her to his bedroom.

She laughed, securing her arms around his neck. He continued kissing her neck until they were in the bedroom, kicking the door shut and gently throwing her in the bedroom.

Chuckling, she got ahold of his t-shirt and dragged him down with her. Her hands found his shorts in a matter of seconds, bringing them down his legs as he too undressed her.

“I missed this body.” He whispered against her skin, lips trailing down her stomach.

Y/N didn’t remember how they were suddenly naked, she could however remember the feeling of his lips gracing her, his fingers tracing her thighs.

“Tell me you didn’t let him touch you.”

“I didn’t.” She shook her head, eager for his touch, “I promise.”

It sounded like a beg, and Y/N didn’t miss the way he smirked before his fingers were inside her.

Her back arched, a moan leaving her own mouth as she squeezed the sheets between her fingers.

“J.” She whined when his tongue joined his fingers.

He worked like a God, and Y/N had missed him. She missed the way he could make her feel and although she didn’t have anyone else to compare him to, she knew he was the best she could ever have and the voices about him on the island confirmed it.

His touch was driving her crazy, moans escaping her as her hips bucked up to meet him.

“So sweet.” He mumbled against her.

He added another finger making her tremble, she was completely at his mercy.

And then, between the pleasure and his touch, Y/N had started to become needier.

She whined, coming up to rest on her elbows, “I need you, J.”

JJ thought he’d die right then and there.

He looked up at her, that smirk of him gracing his features. Her hand came down to meet his face as she encouraged him to come back up. He did, leaving a last kiss on her and making her shudder before meeting her lips again. She could taste herself on him.

“Please.”

It was all it took for JJ to stop teasing her.

She felt his member at her entrance, chills running down her spine as she arched her spine from that pleasure alone.

His hand was on her cheek as he pushed inside of her, his mouth immediately opening in pleasure and a groan leaving his lips. It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Y/N closed her eyes as a gasp left her; they hadn’t been together for some time and she was having a bit of difficulty readjusting to his size, the slight burn hurting her. It was a good hurt.

“I know, baby.” He kissed her, “Haven’t been taking good care of you lately, have I?”

She raised her head slightly to kiss him again, needing the comfort. Her hands found his cheeks as the kiss deepened, his pace fastening causing whimpers to fall from her lips between the kisses.

“I know you can take it.” He prodded her.

She nodded, moaning when the pain slowly started to melt into pleasure.

“I can take it, J.” She gave in to him, her legs finding her way around his waist and bringing him closer.

His thrusts became faster and harder as time passed, sweet nothings whispered into each other’s ears.

It was the most intense feeling Y/N had ever experienced, being with JJ.

Again, she’d never been with guys before him, but she knew it couldn’t have been like this for everyone — sex with JJ felt like daydreaming. She couldn't put it into words. It wasn't just physical; it felt as if their whole beings, bodies and souls became one.

And this time felt so much more intimate, loving, and as thought the two of them were meant to be together. And Y/N was sure they were.

She moaned a bit too loudly when he hit a particular spot, pleasure exploding in her lower stomach as he repeatedly thrusted inside of her. Her nails left marks on his back, her arms now around his neck as she stifled the sounds she was making by biting down on his shoulder. JJ moaned, one of his hands coming down her back to lift her up against him as she arched her spine.

“I missed you.” He kissed her neck, “Mine.”

Then she was pushing her hands against his chest and made him sit down on the bed, coming up so straddle his waist. Her hand wrapped around his cock, giving it a few pumps before lining it up with her entrance and then sinking down on it.

She sat down completely on his member and JJ threw his head back in pleasure, his jaw tense as his hands found her waist, squeezing the flesh.

“You look like a Goddess.” He groaned out as she began moving up and down on him, hands on his shoulders.

Her pace fastened, hips coming down to meet his waist in hard motions. Y/N felt she was close.

“God, JJ.” She cried, her movements becoming sloppier as she came closer.

She loved the sounds he was making, loved the way his eyes were shut in pure bliss and his abs were tense in please.

“You take me so good, baby.” He told her, “I’m gonna cum.”

“I want it inside, J.” She whispered in his ear, “I want you to come inside of me.”

It was enough for JJ to cum, his high triggering her own.

She placed open mouthed kisses on his chest as she came down.

“Fuck.” She panted.

One of her hands came up to her face, her thumb caressing his skin as he brought her closer to him, eyes never leaving her.

“I love you, Y/N.”

And it was that night, their bodies tangled together in his sheets that JJ understood that no matter what happened, her heart would always lay with him.

Taglist: @soapiebear @70smaybank @maybankslover @myguiltypleasures21 @chaoticavrey

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brittle-doughie · 2 months

Note

I wish to request something a little strange- So you have experimented with the idea of Cookie Cannibalism so maybe I was hoping you could just build on the idea. No morbid curiosity tho

(This ask was super weird, so you can ignore it if you want)

Bake It Till You Make It: Tasty Delights

It never hurts anyone to have a treat every now and then..also I updated the first part to my current format of posts

WARNINGS: Cookie Cannibalism

Running the shop doesn’t always have to be around the holidays. The Sugar Gnomes were generous enough to have you run the shop all winter long! If that was what made you and the cookies in the kingdom happy!

It had surely made the cookies happy alright! All day, every day has cookies coming in the high tens into your shop! They can never seem to get enough of the cakes and sweets offered here, you being the manager also had a hand in the amount of visits too.

But that was only half of the whole thing. The other half was the cookies being thankful enough to gift you their own sweets.

You never questioned their generosity, accepting the gifts with a smile. What was odd would be the cookies acting a little suspicious in terms of behavior or style of clothing, something that was a bit out of character for them.

Cookies like Crunchy Chip Cookie that are usually pretty tough are left trying to come up with an explanation for their insistence on you accepting their sweets, Crunchy especially since you recalled that sweets weren’t his thing. He practically pleaded for you to take it and eat it, he wanted to know if you liked his sweets. He wanted to know if you liked how it tasted…

And, in his head, if you liked how he tasted…

———————————————————————

Crunchy Chip yelled out as he cracked off a piece of his arm, a brief moment of pain that had take deep breath.

But in his mind, it would be worth it. To see you savor the taste of what he made despite the end result. To see you savor how he’d taste like.

It would be worth it…

———————————————————————

You thanked him as he left with his cake, sitting down at one of the tables as you started to eat his sweets. For someone who didn’t like them, Crunchy’s delights were pretty good! You continue taking a bite, and then another one, and then another…until it was all gone.

That really hit the spot as you sigh contently, leaning back in your chair…with the window behind you having a fixated Crunchy Chip watching intently before he hurried away.

———————————————————————

Mozzarella Cookie thought it would be pretty interesting of her to give you a mozzarella cheesecake. A very odd choice of ingredients, you even joked if she had placed a piece of her own mozzarella in it, something she giggled at.

What a silly thing to say!

———————————————————————

She wasted no time in gently removing pieces of her mozzarella hair to smoothly texture her cheesecake.

She’d know that you’ll like it, she’d kick herself if you didn’t. After all…

…an intriguing cookie like you only deserves an intriguing dessert~

———————————————————————

The amount of cookies coming in for some of his healings have been noticeably higher during this time of the year for Pure Vanilla Cookie. They’d come him, almost impatiently ask that he give them some healings to make them feel better before they’d hurried off for the day.

The changes in their outfits did not go unnoticed by the Ancient Cookie. Raspberry Cookie’s hair covering a portion of her face, Pastry Cookie wearing a sort of cloak to conceal her form, Clover Cookie missing tufts of hair…

They’d never want to answer any of his questions and just move along hastily…

He decided to come to you to see if you had any clue about this. He catches you just as you’re about to close up shop for today, a box that contained coral cake in your hands.

“Y/N Cookie! How are you, my friend?”

You greeted Pure Vanilla warmly as you two shared a hug. You asked him what brought him you.

“I was just worried about the number of cookies coming to see me to heal them. Do you know anything by any chance?”

Injured cookies? This was the first time you were hearing of this…

“It’s just that they never wish to tell me what was wrong with them. They’re always in a hurry to leave…”

This was pretty odd behavior…but you’d look into it whenever you can. You had to head back your place for today.

“Thank you, Y/N Cookie. I’ll help you in any way I can.”

You bid each other farewell as you head home, opening the box to take a bite of the cake, humming delightly as you savored the flavor.

As you reach home, you head to the fridge to put it away for later. You had to make room though, with a number of different sweets and foods already crowding your fridge, gifted by your Cookies.

———————————————————————

The utensils and ingredients were set, with instructions to make a cobbler.

The cookie was all to ready to get started…if not for one more ingredient to really make this cobbler special..

She can already picture it now. Seeing cookies crowding the shop, wanting their order to be taken first. She was stepping past the crowd to meet you at the counter

She presented her cobbler to you, wishing for you to have a taste!

You took a bite and you’d immediately be downing the whole dessert right there and then, excitement bubbling within herself at how much you liked it.

You’d tell her that you loved her cobbler with all of your being, you’d ask her…if she’d make more for you. She’d be all too eager to say yes! She will make more!

It would feel as if she had a connection with you more than the rest…

With these thoughts, the cookies giggled a little manically as she gets ready to crack off her lower arm…

White Lily is sure of herself that you’ll enjoy her dessert!

#brittle answers #cookie run x you #cookie run x reader #cr x reader #cookie run #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #cookie run kingdom #cr kingdom #tw cannibalism #implied body horror #implied cannibalism

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bejeweledblondie · 6 months

Text

New Recruit

Simon “Ghost” Riley x F! Reader

Summary: Y/N’s & Simon’s little girl goes to work with her daddy after begging for months, this is based on a true story that happened today my husband came home decorated in stickers

Warnings: none

When your daughter found out Simon was bringing her to work the next day she was overly ecstatic. She immediately grabbed her little pink backpack & packed three of her Barbie dolls, stickers, coloring books, all the essentials. Your daughter had grown incredibly curious in what her father did. He’d always try to bring back some sort of souvenir for her, & it only helped with peaking her curiosity. She’d constant ask different questions when he’d come home from a mission & Simon would create some elaborate story to shield her from his actual profession. All she knew what that he was in the military to some degree. So Simon decided since it was mainly a online safety training day he’d bring her onto the base.

The next morning she was so excited nearly bouncing out of her seat in anticipation. She kept asking so many questions about the activities planned that she wasn’t eating her cereal.

“Sweetheart, you gotta eat up my love.” You stated, reminding her of the colorful fruity breakfast food in front of her. “You need to be well fed before you go with daddy to work.”

“Okay mummy.” She replied starting to eat away. Simon had just come back from a early morning run & walked in the door. “Daddy!” She yelled excitedly & opened her arms for a hug.

“Hey princess!“ He greeted her. Despite how sweaty he was, he couldn’t deny his little girl a hug.

“You stink!” She exclaimed. He ruffled her hair & walked upstairs to take a well needed shower. Once she was done with her breakfast you took her upstairs to get her ready for the day. She had laid out her outfit the night prior. The cutest little pink corduroy dress, with white tights, & mary jane flats were resting on her dresser. You got her changed into her outfit for the day & Simon came in dressed in his uniform. It was a morning ritual before he left for work that he’d help put his little girls hair up. His bear paw of a hand grabbed the hair brush that sat on her dresser & started to brush her sandy blonde locks.

“What bow do you want this morning princess?” He asked pointing to the plethora of bows that sat in a container.

“Hmmmm,” She said thoughtfully her little nose crinkling in thought. “The pink one!” You now leaning against the door frame giggled to yourself. She had all those bows but without fail the pink one was the one she wore the most. He clipped the bow into her small ponytail & let her look at it in the mirror.

“Okay pumpkin, let’s go so daddy is not late for work.” He said & scooped her up. She always looked smaller then she was in Simon’s arms. It always looked like he was carrying a doll around. He grabbed her pink backpack & swung it over his free shoulder. The three of you made it downstairs & you gave the two of them a kiss goodbye.

“Looks like it’s just you & me today.” You said quietly to your now visible baby bump.

Simon buckled the wiggly little girl into her car seat & got into the driver’s seat of his pick up truck.

“Okay darling what do you wanna listen to?” He asked looking back at her, already knowing her answer.

“Taylor Swift!” She exclaimed & like clockwork he put on her absolute favorite song, Shake it Off. He smiled to himself as he watched her wiggle around in her car seat to the song singing to herself. Simon tried to sing along, but she shot that down really fast. “No daddy I only sing.” She said. He rolled his eyes playfully, & shook his head. Knowing damn well she got her sassiness from her mother.

He pulled up to the gate to the base, & showed both of her identification cards. The gate guard scanned both & saluted Simon. Soon they were in the parking lot to the headquarters, & Simon was struggling with getting the car seat unhooked. His damn sausage fingers were getting in the way.

“God dammit.” He said as he tried to unclip one of the straps. Your daughter got wide eyed & gasped.

“Daddy you just said a bad word!” She exclaimed. “Mummy says those aren’t nice words.” A look of disbelief was on Simon’s face at his child’s scolding, knowing well enough she’ll repeat what happened later on. The swear jar at home was already way too filled from his accidental cursing. Price had been standing outside finishing off the last of his cigarette watching his lieutenant struggle with the car seat buckle. After he finished his smoke he decided to go over & help. Being a father to three kids meant he was a professional.

“Oi, Simon!” He called coming down the stairs. “Need some help?”

“Anything would be great, Price.” Simon said clearly frustrated. Price looked at the little girl in the car seat who looked back him & smiled. “I swear they strap them in tight enough they could survive an atomic bomb.” Simon continue. “Eleanor, this is Captain Price. Daddy’s boss, he’s gonna unhook ya.” Simon told his daughter.

“Hello, Eleanor,” Price said. “Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand & she grabbed onto two fingers, shaking his hand. Somehow someway Price was able to get the car seat unhooked. Eleanor held out her arms & Price picked her up placing her down next to her father. Simon took the pink backpack & his daughters hand. All three of them walked into the building only to be greeted by Soap & Gaz.

“Finally!” Soap exclaimed. “What took you lot so long-“ he cut off mid sentence at the sight of the little girl holding her fathers hand. “Who’s child is that?” He asked.

“This is my daughter, Eleanor.” Simon explained. Eleanor now shyly was hiding in between her fathers legs.

“I had no idea you had a kid LT.” Gaz said. The two men crouched down to greet the little girl. Simon’s hand came down to stroke her hair to tell her it’s okay. “Hello, Eleanor I’m Gaz & this is Soap.” She just stared back at them gripping onto the camouflage fabric of Simon’s pants.

“She’s just shy.” Simon explained & picked up his daughter.

“Well let’s get to it.” Price stated, & they all walked into one of the briefing rooms. “Simon why don’t you drop Eleanor off with Laswell while we conduct our briefing.” Price stated. “She’s just right next door.”

Simon carried his daughter out of the room & knocked on the door of the room next to them. Kate opened the door & smiled.

“Oh isn’t this a surprise!” Kate said.

“Could you just let her sit in here for a few? We’re about to do a briefing.” Simon asked. She nodded & Simon handed his daughter off to her with her pink backpack.

“Daddy where are you going?” Eleanor asked in a upset tone.

“Daddy’s going to be right next door.” He explained to her. “Then when I’m done you can come in.”

“Okay daddy.” She replied. Simon went into the briefing room & Laswell closed the door to her office. She placed the little girl on the ground who held onto her pink backpack.

“Whatcha got in there?” Laswell asked as she crouched down to her level.

“I have Barbie’s.” Eleanor said. “Do you know how to play with Barbie’s?” She asked. Laswell nodded, & Eleanor opened up her backpack to reveal her Barbie’s. The more questions Laswell asked the more comfortable Eleanor was around her. Once the briefing was finished, Simon went next door to check in on his daughter. There she was sitting with Laswell on the floor playing with her three favorite Barbie’s. Soap & Gaz also appeared in the doorway behind him. After a few minutes Eleanor realized her father was in the doorway. “Daddy!” She exclaimed excitedly. He never got tired of seeing her excitement when he walked into a room or came back from work.

“Hi princess, can I steal Laswell for a minute?” He asked. “Soap & Gaz will play if you want.” He said & Laswell got up. “Then after this we can get Macca’s for lunch.” She lit up at the sound of that.

“Okay daddy.” She said in agreement. Soap & Gaz soon joined her on the floor. She looked at them skeptically especially Soap. “Why is your hair that way?” She asked as she picked up one of her Barbie’s from the floor. Gaz had to control himself & try not to laugh.

“It’s a Mohawk, & I like it.” He replied. She really was Simon’s kid.

“Do you know how to play Barbie’s?” She asked them quizzically. They both looked at each other & then her. “It’s okay, I’ll show you.” Eleanor went on to explain the drama between three of the dolls. It was an elaborate betrayal & divorce plot that left the two men speechless. “That’s how you play Barbie’s.” They just stared back at her absolutely confused.

“Oh wow,” Soap said. “That’s uh wow. That took a sharp left turn.”

“I’ll say,” Gaz said. “What else did you bring?” He asked. She went to her backpack & whipped out the sticker sheets.

“Those look fun.” Soap said. Eleanor took a sticker of a unicorn off of the sheet & placed it on his forehead. The cutest giggle he had ever heard erupted from her lips. Soon his whole face & Gaz’s face were covered in stickers. Simon, Price, & Laswell had completed their briefing, & went to go check on the three of them next door. Once they opened the door Kate had to stifle a laugh. Simon looked on in amusement at his daughter who placing different stickers over his teammates faces.

“Eleanor, love what are you doing?” Simon asked.

“Making them pretty.” She replied very matter of factly.

“It looks like Lisa Frank threw up on them.” Laswell said.

“Hey we’re trying to make the new recruit here happy.” Soap replied with his eyes closed as she placed a new sticker on his forehead.

“New recruit?” Price asked.

“Yeah little Eleanor here.” Gaz answered. Simon smiled to himself as he watched his daughter enjoy herself. He knew she’d be asking to come to work with him again, but this time with more stickers.

825 notes · View notes

disneyprincemuke · 10 days

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i didn't tell you i was scared * fem!driver

perhaps carrying the burden of being the perfect eldest daughter after all these years have its disadvantages as well

pairings: fem!driver and her literal family

notes: don't even get me started on how fuckin long it took me to write this bro and also let's not talk about how bad this one is ok? thanks

(series masterlist) | (📂 2025: fall from grace)

(prev)

being back home has always brought about a sense of peace she hasn’t been able to replicate anywhere else. it’s just a different serenity when she’s back under the blankets of the bed she’d grown up in, surrounded by everything that reminded her of being young and innocent.

oh, how she misses the times when it felt like the world was in her hands. how naïve of her to think that if she worked hard, she’d get everything she wanted.

every single word of rejection slowly dug the trenches she’s managed to find herself in lately.

she’s so deep in that she doesn’t think there’s a way out.

she lies on her back, childhood stuffed animals burying her in the blanket. she bores holes in the roof of her room where her glow-in-the-dark stars stare right back at her.

she can almost hear the ghost of her 13-year-old self whining as oscar and logan prop themselves up on her bed to paste them on her ceiling, making fun of her for being too short to do it herself.

it used to be so simple.

there’s soft knock on the door followed bt the creaking of its hinges as it’s pushed open. a head pops in. “can we go to the store?”

“what?” she turns her head towards the door and furrows her eyebrows. “can’t you just take my car and go alone?”

dalton frowns, “is it such a crime to spend time with my very beautiful older sister?”

she raises an eyebrow. “you want me to pay, don’t you?”

“don’t make me sound so feral,” the young boy huffs with a roll of his eyes. “i haven’t seen you in months… come on, let’s do something together?”

“i don’t really…” she sighs as she meets her younger brother’s stare and hopeful smile. “alright, mate, just let me change out of my pyjamas.”

that’s how she finds herself at a convenience store at 2 in the morning, hands in the pockets of one of logan’s old jackets that he left in her parent’s house, slowly sauntering through aisles with a blank stare.

she’s been staring at a box of cereal for a couple of minutes, debating with herself if she should let herself indulge. but lately, it just doesn’t feel like she deserves nice things.

when dalton finds her, he’s got a basket full of snacks and drinks. he stops at the end of the aisle with a puzzled stare and tilts his head. “didn’t see anything you want?”

she smiles, “not really. and i’m supposed to be watching my diet — too much ice cream, noah said.”

which is just another blatant lie. she hasn’t touched a drop of ice cream since matt had packed his bags and left her apartment. she hasn’t even really been eating.

dalton hums, “i guess… let yourself have a cheat day, though.”

she sighs out a soft laugh and slings an arm over dalton’s shoulders. “maybe tomorrow. come on, let’s pay up before mama finds out i let you convince me to drive you out to the store in the middle of the night.”

she rests her head at the foot of her bed, nose-to-nose with kidnapper as he sleeps peacefully on one of her pillows.

“wish my life was as simple as yours,” she mutters, running her finger along the cat’s nose. “wish i could sleep all day and be adored like you, kid.”

she glances at her phone, lying peacefully on her side table next to the bed. it’s been going off with constant text messages for the past 5 minutes, most from logan and oscar asking about her parents’ anniversary party, and some from matt.

she can’t get herself to pick up the phone and answering feels like such a daunting task. she can’t find the right words to type out and send out as an acceptable response.

“hey,” the door opens and her mother’s head pops in, “busy?”

she lifts her head and smiles slightly. “what do you need me to do?”

“can you pick up the decorations from town? it’s pre-ordered, so you just gotta pick it up. then maybe could you bring home some dinner?” her mother flashes her a sheepish grin, obviously hoping that she would say yes.

“can’t you get dalton to pick it up? i’ll let him use my car if that’s what you’re worried about,” she offers with a small, unnoticeable scowl on her face. her plan for the entire day was to simply lie in her bedroom and do absolutely nothing.

her day simply isn’t complete unless she’s wallowed in self pity.

“he’s barely permitted to drive a car with an adult in the passenger seat,” her mother sighs. “come on, please? i’ll make you your favourite breakfast tomorrow.”

“really? it has to be me?”

“you’ve locked yourself in your room the 2 days you’ve been back,” her mother sighs again with the shake of her head. “i thought you came home early to help around.”

“i came back early to spend my break here. that doesn’t mean anything about helping around,” she complains, yet she’s scrambling to get herself off her bed. she knows better than to get into this sort of argument with her mother — it’s simply not going to be worth it. “but if it has to be me…”

she gets up and drops kidnapper off in dalton’s room. she changes out of her day-old pyjamas and heads to town where her mother had asked her to go.

all the while cursing under her breath about having so much to do on her supposed break. she’d only driven herself back ahead of her parents’ anniversary party to give herself a break from the fast-paced nature of london.

that and the refusal to go back to her apartment when it no longer felt like home.

but she does all that her mother asks of her anyway because her mother says so.

“you need to eat more, my love.” she watches her mother stand from her position on the dinner table and pick up a bowl of noodles. “you look like you haven’t been eating at all.”

“mama,” she tries to protest with a sigh, shaking her head as she tries to push away the bowl from her plate. “i’m not very hungry.”

her mother is insistent. she shakes her head with a soft huff, scooping out a bunch of noodles and putting it on the plate in front of her. “you need to eat more than you’re eating.”

she lets out an irritated sigh and turns to her father, sat next to her mother, for some sort of words to help her. but he just shrugs at her with an apologetic smile.

“i just want you to look like yourself again,” her mother sighs, pinching her cheek tenderly with a small smile. “you’ve had a tough year.”

she scoffs, dropping her head to toy with the noodles on her plate. of course, she uses her shit of a season to justify being an overbearing figure in her life. she would have been more tolerant of it — as she’s been her entire life — but it’s just not a good time for this behaviour right now.

“fine, whatever.”

she glances down the hallway for anyone who would catch her before she opens the door. she’s greeted by 2 beds and an empty room, but an overwhelming familiarity of friendship. a friendship that she’s strayed so far from that it barely makes sense for her to be standing in this bedroom.

on top of the dresser is a framed picture of her, oscar and logan at a karting track in the earlier days of their karting days together. she stands between the boys, oscar and logan leaning into her with their lips pressed against either side of her cheeks.

on the beds, she can see the 3 of them cuddled up together when she was 14 seeking help from the older boys with her homework.

if she thinks hard enough, she sees her 15-year-old self on oscar’s bed with the blankets pulled up to her chin with logan and oscar squeezing in the other bed in the room when she’s having trouble sleeping by herself.

in the far corner of the room, she can see herself at 16 curled up on the floor after her first boyfriend had broken up with her. and oscar walks in with a small scowl but 3 pints of ice cream for them to share while they try to distract her of the pain.

the room’s been cleaned and polished by her mother, preparing for oscar and logan’s return for their anniversary party this weekend.

she makes a sharp turn for the cabinet at the side of the room, pushing through hangers of jackets and sweaters hanging neatly, untouched for god knows how long. she sighs when a familiar red jacket comes into view.

“i told mama this is mine,” she grumbles under her breath, pulling the jacket out of the cabinet. it’s a ferrari jacket that oscar had gotten from his parents when he was younger, but since he’d outgrown it, she’d claimed it for herself.

“oh, there you are.”

she turns around, with a heavy heart and teary eyes, and comes face-to-face with her father. “hey.”

“i’ve been looking all over for you,” he sighs heavily, stepping into the room with caution. “i just wanted to check in on you after what happened during dinner. you know mama meant well.”

she grins with a slight nod. “yeah, i know.”

“and we’re just concerned for you.” he wraps an arm around her and rests his chin on top of her head. “after the year you’re having… we’re all concerned for you.”

“concerned?” she repeats under her breath, looking up at her father. “regarding what? i’m doing fine.”

“personally, i’m just concerned because you’re my princess,” he mumbles, giving her a squeeze. “and you know… i’m your father? i know if something’s wrong, but it’s okay if you don’t wanna talk about it yet.”

she lets out a heavy sigh, relaxing in his arms. she wraps her arms around him and nuzzles her face into his chest, “thanks for not making me talk about it.”

she throws her head back, trying to pull back the hand that’s clasped in dalton’s hands, yanking her towards the garage of the house.

“come on,” dalton mutters, “we’ll have so much fun! just like before!”

“dalton, i told you i didn’t feel like leaving the house today,” she whines, trying another attempt at pulling her hand back from him. “i have some things to settle with my finances and schedule… i’ve put that off for a couple days and kristen and noah need those by tonight.”

“i’m sure it can’t take that long,” dalton whines with a heavy sigh, tugging on her arm. “just a quick movie in at the theatre then a cup of ice cream?”

“dalton, come on, i said i don’t have the time for this!” she shrieks, yanking her arm back and stomping a foot on the ground. “i’ll pay for you to go with a couple of friends, but i can’t go with you. i have adult matters to handle before the week is over.”

dalton blinks at her, shocked at her sudden outburst. “i just wanted to spend time with you before you go off and not come home for months… i’m sorry.”

she opens her mouth to add to her previous statement, but seeing her younger brother with a frown on his face instantly felt like a pierce through her heart. “i– dalton,” she sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “i just have so much going on right now. maybe we can go a little later? i just need to finish a couple of things for my team.”

“it’s alright,” dalton sighs dejectedly, shaking his head. he walks past her to head for the stairs. “maybe next time when you’re not being a bitch anymore.”

“what the fuck,” she mutters with eyebrows furrowed, turning around with her gaze following his steps. “you did not just say that.”

“what?” dalton whirls around. “it’s true. you’ve been such a bitch since you came back. you lock yourself inside your room, you never wanna talk to me, you never wanna join me for snacks, it takes me extra effort just to convince you to come out of the house and do stuff with me… you changed, mate.”

she takes a deep breath. “of course, you don’t understand. you’re just a 16-year-old — you don’t fucking know anything.”

“i know my sister,” dalton scowls. he rolls his eyes and scoffs with a dry laugh. “sorry, i mean i used to know my eldest sister. nowadays, you just ignore my texts, never return my calls and never wanna hang out. you’re a flake, rocky.”

“and you’re just a fucking kid, why should i take anything you say seriously? what do you know about anything that’s outside of your stupid video games and secondary school?” she huffs. “and what do you know about what’s going on with me? that’s not fair.”

“i’m not talking to someone who’s not open to criticism.” he glances at her over his shoulder one more time before running up the stairs. “get a grip, mate.”

“hey, i heard you were back early.” the front door closing echoes in the house, ciara putting her backpack down next to the shoe rack.

the other girl sits on the couch, attention unwavering to the tv show she’s put on to watch. “yeah. hi.”

“i bought you dinner on my drive home from campus.” ciara skips over to the couch happily, leaning down on the back of the couch her older sister sits on. ciara turns her head to grin at her. “from the chinese restaurant. i got you some noodles and wanton.”

“oh, thank you.” she turns her head with a small grin and a soft eye, eyes stinging with every blink. “welcome home, ara.” she pulls ciara in for a short side hug and presses a kiss on her cheek. “how’s uni?”

“it was alright,” ciara shrugs. “join me for dinner?”

she hums, returning her attention to the tv screen. “maybe not; i’m still full from the lunch i had. but thank you for getting me dinner.”

“you’re home!” dalton appears at the top of the stairs with a big grin. “did you get me my fried rice?”

“of course!” ciara beams, beckoning him down towards the dining table. “help me set up the table. rocky’s still full from lunch. it’s just us, come on.”

dalton hops over to the kitchen with ciara, not sparing his eldest sister another stare. so she just turns off the tv and runs back to her bedroom.

“oh. i didn’t know it was such a sensitive topic,” her mother shrugs with a soft chuckle. “i was just curious because you said matt was going to be here for the party this weekend and suddenly he’s not.”

the girl shrugs, keeping her stare on the plate. “yeah, but i really don’t wanna talk about him right now.”

“come on, just concerned for your relationship.” she clenches her jaw, feeling a knot form in her throat as she lifts her eyes to meet her mother’s stare across the table. “did something happen?”

“no,” she lies with a small grin. “he’s just got some things to settle back in the states. he’s just busy.”

“or maybe he realised you were a bitch,” dalton mutters under his breath.

“dalton,” ciara warns through gritted teeth, hitting dalton on the shoulder very gently. “what the hell?”

“what? it’s true,” dalton mutters. “you know that more than i do.”

“that’s enough,” her father speaks up. “let’s just eat dinner, okay?”

“no, my love,” a whine comes from behind her, “you put it up wrongly.”

the girl on the top of the ladder looks over her shoulder and meets her mother’s judgemental stare and disappointed frown. “you literally told me to put it here, mama.”

“put it up higher, no– like– i’ll just do it.” her mother offers her a reassuring smile and beckons her to get down from her position.

“no, it’s so dangerous for you to be up here,” she mutters, attempting to readjust the wall decorations to her liking. “just tell me where to put it.”

“you’re,” her mother pauses, “not doing it right. just come down and let me do it.”

she huffs and drops her hands. “fine.”

she climbs down the ladder, folding her arms over her chest as she watches her mother replace her.

“see? isn’t that better.”

but she swears it’s exactly the way she’d put it up just a moment ago.

“is this what you’re going to do the entire time you’re here? just mope in your room with your cat?”

she lifts her head from her pillow and turns, resting her head again as she stares at her mother standing at the door. “is this really how you want to start the day?”

“it’s noon. the day started almost 3 hours ago.” her mother leans on the door frame of her bedroom. “you have to get up and do something. locking yourself up in here,” she pauses to look around the kiddish bedroom, “it won’t make you feel any better.”

“i just have a lot going on,” she mumbles, flipping herself to face the other side of the room. “i’ll come down in a while. i just need a couple minutes.”

“oh, my god, mama!” her voice echoes in the empty house, running down the steps with her mother following shortly behind her. “stop asking me about matt! i don’t want to talk about him right now!” she turns around at the bottom of the steps. “not with you; not with anyone!”

“i’m just trying to give him an answer, my love! he’s concerned for you. he said you haven't answered his messages all week,” her mother reprimands with her hands on her hips.

“that’s between matt and i and you have no say in this, sorry.” she raises her hands in the air to surrender before walking away. “it’s just none of your business.”

she’d just been relaxing in her room by herself when her mother came in trying to make conversation. she’d been receptive at first until she realised that she was trying to get her to talk about matt again.

which, she’s just not ready to open up about yet.

“it is if you’re acting this way! locking yourself in your room all day… fighting with dalton? don't even get me started on the way you can’t even clean up after yourself — you’re an adult now.”

“i’m an adult, yeah, so let me deal with my fucking problems however i see fit!” she laughs dryly and turns to face her mother again. “can i have some room to breathe? please? without everyone following closely behind me and staring at me like i’m pathetic?”

“we don’t think you’re pathetic!”

“i see the sorry in your eyes when you look at me! everyone seems to be looking at me that way lately!”

“my l–”

“just please leave me alone!”

so she gets in her car and drives away. she doesn’t know how long she drives for, tears in her eyes and chest heaving in sobs.

but she finds herself at the park nearby, one that she used to frequent with oscar and logan after school. she parks her car right by the roadside and forces herself onto the empty playground. she sits on the slide for hours until she feels slightly better.

she pushes the front door open with a heavy sigh. the sadness of pulling up in the driveway of her house worries her. it’s like the sadness seems to find a way to follow her everywhere.

everywhere she goes, it’s like there’s a dark cloud hanging above her head and she doesn’t know how to make it go away.

“where have you been?” ciara’s voice startles her, sending her a step back. “we’ve been worried sick for you after you left so abruptly before dinner! you weren’t even picking up your phone!”

“i just needed some time alone,” she says with a heavy sigh. she closes the door behind her and slips out of her shoes. “i was just at the playground i used to go to with logan and oscar. think i left my phone in my bedroom before i left and i went to grab dinner–”

“seriously? you’re not even sorry?” ciara screams, throwing her arms in the air. “we’ve been so worried sick for you since you walked out for no reason?”

she tilts her head. “no reason? mama has been grilling me about things i don’t want to talk about since i came back.”

“she’s concerned for you! we’re all concerned for you!”

“i didn’t ask for your concern! i’m asking you guys to leave me alone; give me some fucking room to breathe!”

“then why did you come all the way here just to lock yourself in your bedroom? if you want to be left alone, you should’ve just fucking stayed in london where you have an apartment where no one will fucking bother you!”

she huffs, hands on her hips. “fine. i’ll just go back. since it’s such a bother that i’m too sad to be here right now.” she stomps past her younger sister and up the stairs, heading right for her bedroom.

“don’t try and guilt trip me to feel sorry for you!” ciara chases after her. “it’s just not fair that you came all this way to be fighting with every single person in this household! just because blythe’s not here, doesn’t mean you’ll get away with this behaviour!”

“i’m not trying to guilt trip you,” she snarls, grabbing her bag from the ground and shoving her things, sprawled all over her room, into it. “but i’m sorry my feelings are such a burden to you guys. cause personally, i’m not having the best time.”

“if you’re not having the best time, don’t bring us down with you! it’s mama and papa’s anniversary! spend a little time not thinking of yourself for once!”

“i’ve spent my whole life not thinking of myself! you don’t know — you’re just a spoilt brat who got everything she wanted growing up! i actually had to work for the things i wanted.”

ciara scoffs, finally stepping into the room. “who gave you the right to act all high and mighty like you’re better than everyone? being the eldest kid doesn’t mean shit, genius.”

“well, what would you know about being the eldest kid? you never had to take care of anyone besides yourself; you never had to think of anyone but yourself.” she picks up kidnapper, sleeping on the foot of her bed and throws her bag over her shoulder. “just fuck off, ciara.”

“you’re not the only one with problems, you know,” ciara scoffs, folding her arms over her chest. “and what, you’re leaving? way to face your problems head-on.”

“i’m leaving because clearly i’m not wanted here,” the older girl sighs, pushing past the girl to her bedroom door. “so let me get out of your hair before my sadness becomes too contagious for your liking.”

“you’re leaving?” blythe says in shock, watching her older sister walk past her without another moment’s hesitation. “but i just got here. and isn’t the part tomorrow?”

“she’s throwing us the dramatics!” ciara announces with a loud laugh, running down the stairs to catch up with her older sister heading right for the front door. “she’s leaving because she can’t face the fact that she could be overreacting this one time!”

“overreacting?” blythe repeats, following both sisters down the stairs. “what are you guys even fighting about?”

“she left for hours with no contact!”

“i don’t even wanna stay long enough for you to paint me to be the villain,” the girl announces, pulling the front door open. “i’m leaving.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @localwhoore @notawc @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @a-disturbing-self-reflection @mclarengf @xoscar03 @nomie-11 @green-thots @inejismywife @love4lando @louvrepool

#fem!driver #f1 fem!driver #female driver #disneyprincemuke vr #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #vettel reincarnate

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marvelous-slut · 5 months

Text

Revenge - Happy Lowman

No lie, Better than Revenge by Taylor Swift was the inspiration for this! Lmao. Hope you all enjoy xx

Being the sister of Jax Teller had some advantages, you got to spend lots of time at the club house. Lots of time talking up the scariest member or the MC, Happy Lowman. There was something about him that you couldn’t shake feelings for, you didn’t know if it was that he was mysterious and quiet, or that he’d kill at the drop of a hat. It gave you a strange feeling in your stomach thinking about having him as yours, how you’d never have to worry about anyone coming for you because they’d have to pay the price with him.

Those thoughts all were nice while they lasted.

You walked into the clubhouse, it’s early in the morning and you decided to bring breakfast by. Jax always complimented your cooking and once Happy tried it he did too. “Makes me think of my mommas.” He would say. You see Jax sitting on the bar stool, cigarette in hand.

“Hey sister.” He says, reaching out his hands to grab the platter. He knows what you’re about to ask and he doesn’t want to tell you what he knows.

“Hey, you seen Happy?” You ask, feeling that funny feeling turning in your stomach. He sighs, deciding he should say nothing instead of lying or telling the truth. You look at him puzzled, until you see who comes down the hall. Ima. She’s wearing Happy’s gray reaper shirt, smiling as she knows what she’s done. She can see the hurt all over your face. You and Ima haven’t gotten along since you told her she was a skank and to leave Jax and Tara alone. This was her way of giving you some pay back. She would come to the club with Lyla, seeing how you swooned over Happy. How the light shined in your eyes when you talked to him.

“Good morning!” She says, cheerful to see the pain she’s caused. Jax shakes his head and puts out his cigarette.

“Go get your shit and get the fuck out.” He says to her, you can’t stay here any longer. You dart out the door, ready to be home. Once you get to your car, you ponder for a moment. No, she will not get the best of you. If you knew how to do anything, it was how to get the last world. The last laugh. You grin, thinking of the perfect way to give her some pay back.

It is a bright and sunny day in Charming, a perfect day really. You head down to Luanns porn studio to extract your revenge on Ima. The brownies in your hands are still fresh, topped with a bow and a card you had Jax write out. It reads “for someone special.” No name mentioned, but you knew Ima would get a kick thinking a man had took time to bake for her. Really, you had done the baking, cracking eggs and measuring flour perfectly. Cutting up the chocolate laxatives so fine you would never be able to tell they were a special add in. You sit the brownies in-front of her door and knock, running off. It’s about an hour before she’s due to shoot, you know she’s going to eat one because as you’ve seen at the clubhouse she can’t resist chocolate sweets. Just like she couldn’t resist a man in a kutte, or a man who had an old lady. She’d be drawn to them like flies to shit.

The shoot begins, it’s your average porno shoot. Guy and girl, nothing special. Before Ima can move, you see the look on her face. You know the laxatives have hit her stomach, making it rumble. Before she can go anywhere, brown liquid run down her leg and so do the tears from her eyes. You smile, watching the chaos unfold. “Ew!” Her partner for todays shoot yells out, running away from the havoc her bowels have let out. She shouldn’t have fucked with your brother and his family, but she definitely shouldn’t have fucked with what was yours. Well, what you were trying to make yours. She’s screaming as she runs back to her room, hopefully she’ll be on the shitter for hours.

“My my, my sister is an evil genius.” You smile at Jax, patting him on the shoulder.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about Jackson!” You smirk as you speak, smiling softly. He lets you read a message from Tara.

“So proud of her. Getting some revenge for the both of us.” It reads. You smile, you were glad to give Ima a small form of payback. Gemma and Tara shooting up her car obviously didn’t send the message to her, and maybe this wouldn’t either but you felt better. You feel your stomach sink as you see Happy approach you. You want to run away, but you stand as still as a statue. He walks over to you, standing in-front of you, unsure if he was angry or somewhat amused.

“That you?” He asks, word travels fast at the club house. Especially when Tig sees some drama unfold. You assumed he had let Happy know about your tears and running out when you saw Ima in Happys shirt.

“Guess she has a bad stomach.” You say, he smirks, putting his arm around you.

“You know, all you had to do was say you wanted to be my old lady.” You perk up, looking at him with a smile plastered all over your face. “I don’t show emotions good, don’t read them well either.” After Tig informed Happy of the morning incident, he knew why you were so upset. It had to be because you had feelings for him that you hadn’t expressed. “Come on girl, let’s go back to the club house, smells like shit in here.” You giggle, walking along side of him with his arm reach over your shoulder.

“Oh God! Come on people, it’s a bodily function!” Luann yells out, trying to get her actors and actress under control.

“Yeah, but my bodily function ain’t ever come out like that!” Bobby shouts out as the MC chuckles behind him.

Revenge. It’s a sweet, sweet thing.

#sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy x reader #happy lowman #happy lowman soa #happy lowman x reader #happy lowman x you #happy lowman imagine #sons of anarchy imagine

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goosefruit · 5 months

Text

the sound of her voice

vanessa shelly x reader

tw: phone sex, sub!reader, sex toys (bullet vibrator & dildo), teasing, orgasm denial, masturbation, maybe exhibitionism (not really? vanessa is in a public space but alone), a lot of dirty talk

================================================

You had always been a good girl for Vanessa.

Normally, on your days off, you’d wait patiently for her to come home, sometimes even dressing up to give her a pleasant little surprise. In return, she’d reward you with her tongue and fingers until the both of you were too tired to keep going.

Normally, you would never tease her while she was at work, aside from the occasional suggestive text.

Today, however, time felt unbearably slow. Every part of your body was aching to have Vanessa by your side, but it would be at least another 2 hours before she was home.

That was when a wicked idea came to your mind.

Getting off your living room couch, you made a trip to your bedroom closet to look for a couple of items. A blush crept up your cheeks as you thought about this brilliant plan that you were about to execute.

You laid down on the bed with a small but powerful bullet vibrator, as well as the dildo that was usually attached to Vanessa’s strap-on harness. The silicone cock was a whopping 8 inches long, in a dark shade of purple. Memories of your girlfriend bouncing you on it in the back of her cop car flashed through your mind, sending a wave of arousal down to your core.

To make the experience even more pleasurable, you decided to wear nothing but one of Vanessa’s hoodies. Wrapped up in her scent, you felt as if you could close your eyes and pretend that you were laying in her lap.

And so you turned on the vibrator and dialed her phone number.

“Y/N! What’s up, honey?” Her sweet voice sang out from the other end.

“Vanessa,” you slipped the toy under the hoodie, pressing it against your nipple. The sensitive peak became hard and erect at the contact, and you bit your lip to avoid making a noise. “Nothing’s going on today. I just reeaally wanted to hear your voice.”

Vanessa gave a light laugh. “Miss you too, babe. I just finished checking up on Freddy’s; thought there was a break-in, but it was just a raccoon who slipped in and broke some shit trying to get to a pizza that the new night guard left out."

“That’s absurd! Hope the little guy at least got a bite,” the vibrator began to move lower, now at your hip bone. “So, does this mean you’re still in the pizzeria’s parking lot, in that cop car of yours?”

“Mhm,”

“Alone?”

“Completely. You know no one visits this place other than me and the ever-changing night guards.”

“Great,” you smirked to yourself, drawing soft circles on your inner thigh with the vibrator. “Because I’m in bed right now, warming myself up for you when you get home.” You turned the vibrator up a setting so that it was loud enough for her to hear through the phone.

“Oh, are you now?”

The confidence in her voice almost made you rethink your decisions, but you pushed through and continued talking.

“And oh fuck, my pussy is so wet. It’s practically dripping for you, Vanessa.” Putting the phone on speaker, you set it down beside you so that you could run a finger through your slick folds while the other hand guided the toy closer. “I’ve been thinking about you all day, the things I want you to do to me, and the things I want to do to you. You drive me crazy, you know that? Fuck, I wish you were here with me.”

“Well, I can’t say that I’m not enjoying this newfound boldness, sweetheart.” There was a hint of raspiness in her voice. “But you know you could never touch yourself as good as I do.”

The vibrator finally completed its journey to your clit, and a loud moan escaped from between your lips.

“Mmm, fuck— and guess what, Nessa? I’m wearing nothing except for your hoodie…smells heavenly. Can almost pretend you’re here eating out my pussy. Ohh god— feels fucking a–amazing—”

You took the dildo and lined it up with your dripping wet hole, slowly pushing the tip in. The vibrator was still held in place on your clit, the double stimulation causing your eyes to roll back.

“I’ve got our favourite dildo here too. That huge one you love to destroy me with…better get it nice and lubed up for you when we have our fun later. It’s suuuch a shame you can’t see how well my pussy is taking it right now.” You pushed the entire length of the dildo in before pulling out to thrust it into your pussy. Keeping quiet was no longer a concern as curses and moans spewed out of you. “Ohh y–yeah— can you hear how wet my fuckhole is?”

“Yes baby, keep talking,” her heavy breathing was audible.

You pounded the toy into your pussy harder. “If you were fucking me, I would hook my legs over your shoulders so you can rail me so deep I can’t walk the next day. Doesn’t that sound nice? Just like t–that, baby— bruise my fucking insides. Make me cum, Van– mmm!” At this point, you were rambling, saying anything that came to mind. Your brain had already turned to mush the second she started speaking in that sultry fucking voice.

Vanessa let out a long groan, the same one you were used to hearing every time you made her cum. Did she just…?

“Fuck,” she panted, a quiet moan coming from her back of her throat.

The realization made you halt in your actions. “Vanessa, did you just have an orgasm!?”

“Oh honey, I told you the parking lot’s empty. What? You thought I wasn’t going to touch myself to my pretty girl’s voice?”

The thought of Vanessa in the driver’s seat of her car with a hand down her pants made your stomach tighten with excitement. You began to fuck yourself with the dildo again.

“V–Vanessa— I’m getting close too—” you pleaded, praying that she would let you cum from your own hands just this once.

“Not yet, sweet thing. You’re going to stay on call with me while I finish my patrol for today, but don’t you dare cum before I get home.”

You whined, not knowing whether you could last even 5 more minutes.

“But by all means, keep fucking yourself. My radio’s broken, so give me something satisfying to listen to.”

“Vanessa– I ca—’t—”

“You said you wanted me to make you cum, no? So be a good girl and hold on for me.”

Of course, you were her good girl. So even though your sensitive clit couldn’t possibly handle any more stimulation, you turned the vibrator up another setting.

“I’ll be home in an hour.”

#fnaf x reader #vanessa afton #vanessa fnaf #vanessa shelly #vanessa shelly x reader #vanessa monroe #vanessa shelly smut #wlw nsft #fnaf vanessa

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inosukebakugo · 1 year

Text

Aggression

Rengoku x reader | cw: creampie, cockwarming, dirty talk, mentions of pregnancy | 18+ | ~3k

After a two week bust of a mission with Tengen, Rengoku comes home to you extra riled up

Full version of the teaser from last night! This is the first of many so I hope y’all like it. Since I already posted the first 500, the whole thing will be under the cut!

You were swinging your foot off the deck of the house, eating snacks with Mitsuri when the crow came flying around the building. Both of you recognize it immediately as your own. Earlier in the day, you sent him off to keep watch for a very notable head of flame coloured hair. With a knowing smile, Kanroji stood. Carefully she dusted off her skirt and packed the empty containers back into the bag she’d brought with. Kyojuro had been sent on a particularly difficult mission and the love hashira knew that her old master wouldn’t be able to relax with her there. He was always a gentleman, even when it physically hurt him.

As you waved her off, her watermelon hair disappearing down the road, it was time to prepare. There was no way you could know how Kyojuro would return to you. Sometimes he was gravely injured and other times he was furious when he returned. Luckily you knew all his different flavours and began making sure things were where you remembered them to be. The first aid kit was pulled out onto the nearby counter and the bed was turned down. You even made sure to pull out his favourite pair of sleep clothes in case he wanted them once he’d bathed. Speaking of, you were warming the water when your crow returned again. It would only be minutes until your partner arrived. Too eager, or too nervous, you rushed out to wait for him at the front door.

A sigh of relief left your lips as you laid eyes on him, at least he wasn’t limping or missing a limb. He was, however, covered in blood and filth and bruises. Kyojuro strode confidently through town with his hand resting on his katana. The man was usually smiling and cheerful but the townspeople parted for him as he passed, seeing the serious look in his eyes. You stood and waited as he made his way through the streets and up the hill to where your house was. After what felt like hours but was probably only five minutes, he was striding through the archway that joined the two halves of the fence around the house.

“Are you hurt?” you ask, hesitating to touch him until you know if he’s covered in his own blood or someone else’s.

“No,” his voice is deeper than usual. Dark.

He’s on you like a lion on his prey, reaching out to snatch you before you realise what’s happened. Kyojuro pulls you in and presses a searing kiss to your lips. He pours his last two weeks of frustration into it, gripping your hips so tightly that you yelp and cling on to his broad shoulders. You can feel his fingers digging in as you pull him back in for another kiss. This hadn’t happened before, you tried to remember to ask him what had happened later, for now you were just enjoying Kyojuro.

Strong hands pulled your feet off the ground and the flame hashira was carrying you back into the house. You busied yourself with unbuttoning his dirty uniform, pushing it off his

shoulders so you could run your hands across the bare skin of his chest. A few fresh cuts caught on your soft fingers. It made you frown. The large man almost threw you back onto your bed, crawling on top of you eagerly. He was already pushing up your skirt impatiently, a completely different beast to the Kyojuro you were used to but it wasn’t unwelcome. Usually he was gentle and sweet and you’d been trying to get him to let loose more. The bruising grip on your legs as he lifted them made you moan loudly.

“Sorry love, that mission was a waste of my time,” he growled. “Could’ve sent literally anyone else.”

“I don’t mind,” you offered, staring into golden eyes. “You can take it out on me.” “Good,” the swordsman leaned down to shove his tongue back into your mouth.

As he takes over your mouth, two of his fingers plunge into you and your nails dug into Kyojuro’s biceps. If he hadn’t been pinning your knees to your shoulders with his whole body, you would’ve been eagerly squirming. He swallowed down all of the moans and noises that left your mouth, barely letting you breathe. You’d already been wet from being manhandled by the door, he knew that he wouldn’t have to do much work to get you ready. Carefully, your hands let go of his arms and you tried to reach for the waistband of his pants.

“Don’t make me tie those hands out of the way,” the blond threatened, his fingers picking up speed and making you cry his name. “You’ll take what I give you.”

“I will,” you nodded eagerly, your hands going to your own nipples. “Please, Kyo~”

He cut off your begging by sliding down and adding his mouth to his efforts. The man still wanted to make sure you got to come once, he wasn’t a complete monster. Lips and teeth and tongue assaulted your quivering heat along with his fingers and it was only minutes before you were grinding into his face. So close to your release and suddenly Kyojuro was pulling his fingers out of you. You only whine until you see his hands move to undo his own pants and rip them off.

The one thing you’d wanted was in front of you. Kyojuro, filthy and deprived and naked above you, his thick cock rubbing between your folds and smearing himself in your wetness. Strong hands grabbed both sides of your hips before he pressed in. There’s no stopping him, the man fucking you at an even pace as he watched your tits bounce hungrily. A small part of him was still being careful. The drag of him slowly entering you before pulling all the way out was near torture. Trying to get him to really fuck you, your nails drag red lines down his back and you try your best to squeeze down on his with your walls. In return, one of his large hands comes up to hold you down by the neck. He doesn’t really choke you but the threat of it there only makes you needier.

“More Kyo,” you moan, your eyes and hips rolling. “Fuck me like you missed it.”

“All I thought about for the past two weeks,” he leaned down and nipped at your earlobe. “Was your fucking pussy.”

“Do you want me to do it myself?” she challenged and saw her lover’s eyes darken with anger again.

“Am I going to have to make you shut up?” he did squeeze your neck and his cock inside you twitched as you gasped and nodded. “Good girl, let me wreck you.”

The blond picked up his pace, fucking you like an animal. The hand around your throat stayed but his other one shoved two of his fingers into your mouth. Eagerly, you sucked on the digits and preened at the filthy words coming from the man above you. Is it too big for you? It’s like you were made to take me. Fuck, you’re so good. He kept going, even as he felt you panting harder under his hand. Finally, he took his fingers from your mouth and slapped them against your cunt as it swallowed his cock. The sensation made you yelp. The hand from your neck moved so he could angle himself better.

“Are you going to come on my dick, gorgeous?” he challenged as he began using his slick fingers to rub at you clit. “Hmm?”

“Yes,” you moaned loudly, your hands twisting in the sheets. “Kyo, please don’t stop!”

“Come for me,” he demanded and slammed into you over and over and- you were coming undone beneath him so beautifully.

His name was a scream on your lips and you clamped down on him. Stronger than you, Kyojuro kept fucking you through your orgasm and black dots began to swim in your vision. As your eyes rolled into the back of your head, Kyojuro’s hips slammed into you particularly hard and several grunts spilled from him. He kept going until you were overstimulated and he spilled inside you. The moans that left the hashira almost had you riled up again but soon, he stuffed his length inside of you fully and leaned his sweaty forehead on yours. Now that he wasn’t moving anymore, you knew that he was done. Carefully, you wound your arms around him and pulled him even closer.

“So what had you so riled up?” you giggled breathlessly against his skin, pressing kisses to his collarbone.

“Uzui and his fucking priviledge,” the flame hashira blew a piece of his hair out of his eyes. “He gets to bring his three wives everywhere.”

“Well if you keep this up, I’ll be too pregnant to go on any missions,” one of your hands went up to his face and all of the aggression was gone, replaced with sated tenderness. “Not that I’m complaining. Maybe you should take tips from Tengen more often.”

“Oh he’ll never let me live that down,” his laughter shook you and you could still feel his length inside you. “Was I too rough with you, my love?”

“Not even close,” you giggled again, running your hands down his ribs. “You can do that to me anytime you want.”

“Can I do it to you again in the bath?” he raised an eyebrow at you, a hopeful look in his eyes. Testing you, he ground down into you again and grinned at the needy moan that came from your lips. He lifted you easily and carried you to the bathroom, making sure he was fully seated inside you again as he did it. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Kyo!” you yelped in surprise, clinging onto him. “Your jealousy is going to be the end of me.”

“As long as you like it,” he smirked before kissing you and bouncing you on his cock. Holding you up and displaying his strength while he fucked you made you drool. “I’ll make you a deal.”

“Anything,” you were already panting, unable to do much when he was holding you off the ground.

“If you help me wash up without getting up,” he nipped at your ear again, harder this time. “I’ll bend you over the edge of the tub.”

“I would’ve done it for less,” you chuckle weakly as he steps into the lukewarm water.

Carefully, you washed the dirt and blood from your lover as he played with you. It was no easy feat but you got to tease him back for once. He was clearly enjoying the view of you worshipping his body while his whole cock was inside you. How he was still so hard, you assumed he hadn’t even touched himself while he was gone. The squeezing and grinding of you certainly kept his interest as he watched you work. When he deemed himself clean enough, Kyojuro pulled out of you suddenly. There was only a second for you to whine and complain before he turned you and shoved his throbbing cock back inside you. His first load of cum was helping lubricate you and you had to bite down on your hand to muffle your drawn out moan.

Kyojuro still heard. He leaned down, his chest pressed against your back as he draped himself over you. Calloused hands roamed your body, touching and squeezing wherever he wanted. You were pinned between him and the lip on the tub, unable to do more than wiggle your hips to try and take even more of his thick length. A dark chuckle came from him as he watched you struggle. He let you feel it, bucking against you deeper than he’d been able to reach before. The pleading that came from your mouth made it hard for him to be patient but eventually you said what he was waiting for.

“Please fuck me Kyo!” you begged him. “You’re so big, it feels so good.”

“Well since you said please,” he bit down on his own lip as he dragged his length out of you.

The way he fucked you was nearly feral. His hips snapped into you on their own and he didn’t give you much room to breathe. Hands left red marks on your hips to swat your ass as Kyojuro pounded into you. He filled you relentlessly. All you could do was cling to the edge of the bathtub and drool onto the wood as it bit into your skin. Behind you, the blond was taking in the sight of you. Bent over, stretched around his dick, dribbling his cum from the brutal fucking, he was almost ready to come again. You hadn’t objected for a reason the first time when he’d come inside you, you wanted to really feel it this time. The rhythm of his

thrusts was already frantic as he chased his own orgasm this time. You managed to slip one of your hands down to play with your clit and he didn’t stop you this time. Since your begging had worked so well, you decided to try it again.

“I want to feel you this time,” you turned your head to the side so you could look at him. “I want you to come inside me again, Kyojuro. Fill me up.”

“Holy fuck,” his head dropped to rest between your shoulder blades.

The grip on your hips went from bruising to crushing and the force he was pushing into you almost sent you falling forwards to the floor. Your palms pushed back against the tub to keep you upright as he finished. The deep, drawn out, guttural moan that ripped from your lover’s throat bounced off the bathroom walls and the inside of your head. It was a noise you’d pleasure yourself too next time you were apart. His cock twitched inside you and a pleasant, warm feeling spread through you. His cum kept pouring out of him, the head of his dick pressed firmly against your cervix. For a moment, you wondered if it was all just filling your womb but soon it was leaking out around him.

“Oh fuck,” Kyojuro swore as he pulled his dick out of you. “You’re a beautiful mess.”

His view of you was probably amazing as his hands returned to your skin, gentle now. Your ass up, dripping his cum into the bath, he thought about taking you for a third time. Instead, he settled on cleaning you up. Careful, he licked up your slit and grinned as you moaned again. He knew you liked his long tongue so he dipped it into you, tasting himself. The flame hashira had confessed once that he loved eating you out and he did not disappoint. Eventually his tongue was replaced with a few of his fingers and he sucked on the tender nub of your clit. The suction got to you and before long, you were spilling across his fingers and chin. Your thighs quivering, he ate you like a starving man as you orgasmed again. His fingers didn’t let up as your walls clenched and squeezed around them, pulling more moans out of you. Before long, you were coming down from the high.

“I’m going to need you to carry me back to bed,” you moaned weakly, your body slumping against the tub now that you were mostly empty. “There’s no way I can walk.”

“Good,” Kyojuro chuckled and pulled his fingers out of you so he could lift you again. “That was my goal when I got home.”

“You’re evil sometimes,” You curled up against his chest, his arm around your back tightening before the other arm swept under your knees and took you off your feet. “I like it.”

“I just had to listen to my best friend get laid every night for two weeks,” he said as he laid you down carefully. “How did you think I wasn’t going to come home and immediately want you?”

“I just wasn’t expecting you to be so aggressive,” you pulled him down into bed with you. “It’s a good look on you though.”

“Don’t get used to it,” he yawned. “I’ll feel bad about those bruises in the morning.”

“No, I liked it,” you settled back into his arms and he pulled the covers over both of your naked bodies. “Next time I ask you to fuck me like you mean it, that’s what I mean.”

“Let’s see if your tune is the same in the morning,” he snorted and tightened his grip on you. “I’m so tired.”

“Sleep now,” you pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “You certainly deserve it Kyo. I love you.”

“I love you more.”

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #kny smut #kny rengoku #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku x reader #kyojuro x reader #rengoku smut #demon slayer #demon slayer rengoku #this was so good I had to go get laid #that is a true fact #and the reason why I didn’t post this until morning #my fic #one shot

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nolita-fairytale · 7 months

Text

don't you worry, there's still time | chef luca x fem!reader, feat. marcus brooks

summary: after losing his mother, marcus searches for joy and stillness in copenhagen. you and luca, who are more than happy to host, decide to take a big next step in your relationship. a oneshot from the world of 'burn your life down.'

warnings: fluff, light angst, grief, death, light smut, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, off-canon connection to the storyline of the bear.

word count: 5.8k

listen to: the playlist

a/n: wow, i missed this world! who is ready for the reveal of chef's restaurant name?! while i don't think i have the bandwidth to write another full series (nor a linear story to tell) i'm thinking of creating a second part to 'burn your life down' where we just get to drop in and see what they're up to. thoughts??

chef luca masterlist | full masterlist

After a tumultuous holiday season, it doesn’t take long for Sydney to realize that her friend is in need of a little help. A reprieve, she so kindly explained to both Marcus and Carmy when she’d proposed the idea.

It was Sydney this time, who called Luca, knowing that she and Carmy would have to find something to do with Marcus. It wasn’t fair – that he’d lost his mom just before Thanksgiving – and they both agreed that Marcus needed to get out of dodge. Quick to act, Carmy set up a few stages in NYC for a week or so, which, while seemed to inspire Marcus, seemed to only plunge him further into a slump come Christmas. “I don’t know. I think we gotta send him on some kinda… eat, pray, love trip. The guy can only sulk on my couch for so long before I consider jumping out of the window,” Sydney says, her attempt to lighten the mood with humor still genuine. “It’s getting sad, Carm. Like… real fuckin’ sad.”

“You’re right. Uh… what about Copenhagen?” Carmy pitches with a shrug, because he knows what all consuming grief feels like.

“Again?” she asks, uncertain of whether it’s the best choice that they could make.

“Yeah,” Carmy shrugs in response. “Think he got a lot of it last time. Could be good for him to go back to somewhere familiar… work with Luca again. You don’t think it’s a-?”

“No I do! I just-,” Sydney hesitates, though she knows her business partner makes a good point. “Familiarity will be good for him. To be around people he can trust.”

“You want me to uh-,” Carmy begins to offer, figuring he’ll make the call.

“Probably best if I explain the situation. Just ‘cause, you know, I know more of what’s going on… just send me his info and I’ll call later,” Sydney interjects.

Carmy agrees with a curt nod before adding in:

“Uh… okay yeah. Yeah.”

You get plenty of time to prepare for Marcus’ visit, performing all kinds of fancy footwork to arrange a proper visit – a week’s worth of time spent staging and living in Copenhagen. When Luca finds out that the prolific houseboat, a chef retreat of sorts that’s always been an option for lodging, is booked for the week and a half that Marcus plans on visiting, you offer up your place without hesitation.

The arrangement goes as follows: while Marcus stays at yours at no cost, you’ll stay with Luca for the duration of the time.

This is how you find yourself at the massive Ikea on Dybbølsbro on a Saturday morning with Luca, in search of a set of fresh bed linens intended for guests.

“I really should host more. And Astrid said she and Lina were planning a trip out here so… why not kill two birds with one stone?” you’d reasoned to your boyfriend, making a strong case for why you and Luca should make this little shopping trip.

“What do you think of the blue?” Luca asks you, as you run your hand over a set of the display sheets, checking for softness.

“Don’t know if the blue is what I’m going for. I was thinking of something warmer. Maybe a yellow or… I don’t know. I’ve kind of been into that trendy rust color as of late,” you reply with a shrug, moving onto the warmer colors.

Luca chuckles and with a small shake of his head, he clarifies his previous questions with:

“No, I meant for me.”

“What do you mean?” you ask him curiously, his comment pulling all of your focus as you search his face for answers. “You just got new bedding.”

And expensive ones too.

But as your eyes follow his gaze, you realize that he’s not talking about sheets, focused on the XL Twin-sized duvets just above where the sheets messily fall along the shelf.

“I was thinking…” Luca trails off, checking in with you before he continues, with “... maybe it’s time I get two duvets… you know… for us.” He takes a beat, and a step towards you, and you know you’ll never stand a chance against his boyish charm as one side of his mouth turns up into a smile.

You’re no stranger to the Scandinavian duvet method – two twin duvets for one king sized bed – but it sounds like Luca’s suggestion is about way more than buying an extra duvet on this trip.

“I want you to feel at home… at my place."

“I do,” you reply, almost instantly, a warmth spreading through your belly as you take a step towards him.

“But I mean really… feel like it’s your home. Because it is. It could be. You know… if you want it to be,” Luca continues, this time with more insistence, a look of hopefulness in his deep blue eyes.

“Are you… are you asking me to move in with you?” you manage to get out, your heart skipping a beat.

“Why not? We could use this week to try it out,” he suggests so casually that you practically have to do a double take. “See how it goes while Marcus stays at your place?”

“Yeah I-... that sounds like a good plan, yeah,” you stammer out, the grin on your face undeniable as you nod enthusiastically in the middle of a goddamn furniture store.

“Besides,” Luca says, clearing his throat as his tone changes to one that’s much more playful. “You’re an absolute blanket hog and a repeat offender at that.” Luca winks your way as you roll your eyes with a laugh in response. “This could prevent some of our silly little quarrels, don’t you think, love?”

“Uh huh,” you sound, your face skeptical as you look his way again. “Preventative measures. Sure, babe.”

Luca chuckles before leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips, right then and there, in the Ikea bed linen section, the place you’ll now forever think of as the place your boyfriend asked you to move in with him.

Connection

When Marcus arrives in Copenhagen, you’ve arranged your home with the most comfort in mind, having already packed a week’s worth of things and left for Luca’s. You can only imagine what he must be going through, deciding that something like that – losing your mother – though inevitable, is your goddamn worst nightmare.

“Marcus,

Enjoy your stay and please reach out if you need anything. I can’t wait to meet you!”

…is the note that you leave him, along with a few morning pastries you picked up from your favorite baggeri across the street, and your number scribbled down at the bottom of the notepad.

As Marcus arrives, his eyes drawn immediately to your note and gift, Marcus smiles to himself, noticing that you left a very nice looking bottle of wine on the counter as well. He’s moved by your generosity, considering you’ve never met, and the fact that you’re willing to take so much care, extend this much kindness to a stranger, causes a wave of softness to wash over him.

Maybe, just maybe, he can find softness again – the last few months riddled with pain, grief, and numbness to get through the days.

While he came here to work, encouraged by his friends that a change of scenery may do his broken heart some good, it’s the first time Marcus has had a chance to be still. His feelings of grief sit heavier here and it catches him off guard, uncertain that he’s quite ready to sit with them yet. He pushes aside the thought, focusing on exploring your home and unpacking his bags. Marcus knows how to stay busy – he’s become an expert at it by now – reminding himself that he’s got work at 5 am sharp tomorrow.

“A little too much, chef. Take it down by about 15 grams,” Luca directs, his voice even and sure as he inspects the balls of dough that Marcus currently shapes.

“Yes, chef,” Marcus nods in understanding, plopping the ball of dough back on the scale to adjust the measurement.

The two of them work like this for the rest of the morning, Luca treading carefully while keeping things professional, while Marcus buries himself in the work – something that feels good, safe, right.

He’s missed this. While Marcus has one chef he works with directly at the restaurant, he’s the expert – the head patissier. He misses being surrounded by excellence, getting to be a student of someone who is just as driven, if not more, and inspired. It’s good, quiet, calm, yet there’s a focus and intensity in Luca’s kitchen that feels like a breath of fresh air.

His stage trip to New York has been more of a mess than beneficial. Maybe it had been the chaos of the city, or the chaos of the chefs he was working with. Maybe it was the fact that Marcus, though hungry for a distraction, hadn’t quite been ready to walk directly into the line of fire yet.

As Marcus’ practiced hands move with the dough, there’s a newfound confidence in the way that he works that's not lost on Luca. Luca watches his friend carefully, pride swelling in his chest as his mentee makes the adjustment with ease and diligence.

“Can I join you?” Luca asks, gesturing towards Marcus' workstation.

“‘Course, chef,” Marcus replies, his response short yet reverent.

As Luca joins him, finding a space to the right of Marcus, he busies his hands with rolling each perfectly measured ball of dough into mini boules, ready to proof. The two of them work quietly, side by side, the air between them heavy with words unsaid. He can feel it – the weight that lays so heavily on Marcus' heart – but Luca doesn’t want to bring it up, uninterested in forcing the conversation. Especially about something so painful, something he knows that Marcus has barely begun working through.

“Thanks, again. For uh… you know… letting me come work,” Marcus begins, momentarily checking in with Luca to gauge a reaction.

“‘Course,” Luca replies, his answer instantaneous. “You’re welcome here any time, mate.”

“Yeah?” Marcus asks, stealing a glance in Luca’s direction.

“Yeah,” Luca responds with a certain nod.

“And uh… shit. I can’t thank your girlfriend enough for letting me crash at her place,” Marcus adds, as he works through his discomfort and overwhelm from the wave of feelings that begin to bubble up in his chest.

“You can thank her yourself on Saturday,” Luca brings up, excited over the fact that Marcus will not only be meeting his girlfriend, but staging at her restaurant too. “She’s really looking forward to meeting you.”

Marcus nods slowly, his hands the only steady thing about him as he continues to focus on his work.

“I just mean-, well, she didn’t have to-. ‘S not like either of you owed it to me or anything and I-. You guys just really came through…” Marcus trails off, wanting to make his gratitude clear. It means more to him that he can articulate so instead he settles for, “So thank you. Again.”

Luca shrugs with an aplomb about him as he returns with, “We got you, mate.” He pauses before continuing, fully aware that Marcus isn’t quite comfortable with the feelings that have presented themself in this moment. “And the way I see it, I wouldn’t have met her if it weren’t for you – for our conversation the last time you were here – so we really do owe you for it.”

This time Luca makes an effort to check in with Marcus, gauging his emotional capacity as he concludes with:

“But that’s not what any of this is about: debts, who owes who what. We were both more than happy to host you. That’s what mates are for.”

It’s not till the end of the next shift that it hits him, and Marcus finds himself sitting outside of the restaurant on a bench across the street. He’s not sure whether it’s the jet lag or the exhaustion of the 5 am start time in another time zone, but it hits him all at once, like a ton of bricks. Suddenly consumed with the feelings that he’s been trying his best to avoid, all he can do is pause, completely caught off guard by the strength of them.

Quietly, Luca joins him, having spotted him on his way home, rerouting himself in Marcus’ direction instead.

All he can think of are the words you’ve asked him, and he you, time and time again – the ones that cut right to the core of you each and every time – that show you how much he cares.

“How’s your heart?” Luca asks Marcus, after a few minutes of sitting on the bench together in silence.

And how is his heart?

He’s not sure how to answer, considering it’s been a while since he’s really had a chance to check in, the crippling reality of this great loss is too much to bear alone.

His heart is broken, shattered into an infinite amount of pieces.

He, and his heart will never be the same again and he doesn’t know where or how he’ll ever put it back together.

His heart is… lost, in desperate need of finding a soft place to land.

Marcus takes a while to answer, racking his brain for any semblance of a cohesive answer.

He waits. And then he waits.

Until finally, he can answer.

“I uh… don’t know. But I’m hoping this trip will help me figure that out.”

Creativity

“do you remember the 21st night of september? love was changin' the minds of pretenders while chasin' the clouds away.” (earth, wind, and fire.)

Everything about the way you run your kitchen feels different than what he’s used to.

It’s sure as hell different from his last stage trip to New York, Marcus thinks to himself.

With Carmy and Syd, working with them, there’s a buzz of chaos that runs underneath even the most organized and efficient service. It’s something integral to what they have, gives an edge to The Bear that seems to make it hum in all the right ways. Even with Luca, who comes from fine dining and Michelin-starred restaurants, there’s a quiet and determined focus – an intensity to his work – even without the undercurrent of chaos.

But this. But you.

Your kitchen somehow teeters the line of organized chaos and reckless play so well that Marcus understands why this works – why it’s efficient.

Still, he watches as you and your staff dance – no, literally dance – around each other to the highly recognizable Earth, Wind, and Fire tune. Mathilde sings along while chopping chives for the brothy mushroom grain bowl, while, mid-phrase, manages to yell out a short command to a line cook in Danish. Out of the corner of his eye, Marcus catches Jesper working the dining room, while you finish plating two more dishes, ready to be walked out.

It’s as if you find focus in the center of all the noise, somewhere between the electric energy between you, Mathilde, and your staff, and the feel-good vibes and homeyness of the restaurant that you’ve created.

You had been more than welcoming when Marcus had walked through the doors of your restaurant, Kokuore, mere hours ago. You’d given him the tour, shown him which station he’d be working this evening, then warmly introduced him to your entire team before family meal started. Marcus can’t stop moving, too afraid to be still in fear of falling apart in the presence of how comforting you’ve been.

And this? Your kitchen. It’s all joy, connection, and artistry.

It’s not hard for him to see why Luca fell in love with you.

“Marcus, feel free to take a break,” he hears you say, as you nod towards the dining room through the open kitchen.

As Marcus follows your gesture, he notices that Luca’s arrived, remembering something about a standing Saturday date.

“You sure, chef?” Marcus asks, looking to you for approval.

“Positive,” you nod, reassuringly.

Marcus nods in return to confirm, before taking his apron off and making his way over to the dining room where Luca is exchanging a few words with Jesper.

“Wassup, chef,” he greets his mentor.

“You know, you can call me Luca,” Luca reminds him with a crooked smile. “At least when we’re off the clock.”

Marcus chuckles, “Uh… yeah alright. That’s gonna take some getting used to.”

Luca chuckles in return, before Jesper shows them to his table, mentioning something about Americans being so afraid of fluidity.

“She’s brilliant isn’t she?” Luca asks, in reference to you as his eyes catch yours from across the room.

“Nah for real. Like… mad scientist vibes,” Marcus concurs with a smile. “She can throw down for sure.” He pauses as they sit down at Luca’s table. “So you come every Saturday night, huh?”

“When I can, yeah, which is… most Saturdays,” Luca replies honestly, before beginning to list why he’s kept up this routine. “But it’s nice. Keeps me inspired. I get to see my girl, walk her home at night which makes me feel better.” Luca leans back in his chair this time, crossing his arms over his chest. “And I never mind helping close down at the end of the night.”

Marcus hums in response before one of the waitstaff comes to their table, with a glass of wine in hand, on the house. They chat for a little longer before Marcus returns to the kitchen, his excitement for what you’re doing here filling him to the brim.

As dinner service comes to an end, Marcus can’t help but notice the chemistry and how unique it is as you all work together in perfect harmony. There’s a warmth to it, something different, and he begins to understand why the name of the restaurant comes from the word, heart.

Luca is quick to get up from his table, quickly finishing his glass of wine as he offers to help close down. The music volume goes from underscoring the buzz of a busy night of service, to the main attraction, as a motown throwbacks playlist begins to blare from the speakers. You all work quickly and efficiently, eager to close down, get home, and begin your weekends, but it’s when an old Otis Redding track that Luca decides to put a pause on the progress.

“Dance with me, my love,” he says, offering his hand out to you as a huge gesture that earns a few looks and giggles from some of your staff.

“Luca,” you begin to protest, looking around.

“You can take three minutes,” he offers, exchanging a look with you this time.

You nod, taking his hand as you agree with, “Okay.”

And as Luca wraps you up in his arms, engaging you in a slow dance to Otis Redding’s “That’s How Strong my Love is,” you chuckle, relaxing into him.

“Oh, get a room, you two!” Jesper calls out after you, teasingly.

“She pretends – always puts up a fight – as if they don’t do this every single week,” Mathilde adds, as an explanation to Marcus.

“Every week?” Marcus asks, a little surprised by both you and Luca’s willingness to pause and revel in a moment with each other, instead of just pushing through.

“Yeah. Romantics, they are,” Jesper chimes in.

Marcus smiles to himself. It’s a reminder of slowness – something he hasn’t let himself experience in a long time – and for just a moment, he lets himself settle into the feeling.

You don’t even mind that you woke up an hour before your alarm the moment you feel Luca’s arms wrapped around you, and his lips against your soft skin. The low rumble of his voice resonates across your shoulders, sending chills down your spine as you arch into his hands, his arms wrapped around you.

“I know we’re only a few days in… of our little trial,” Luca begins, the bass of his voice reverberating through your shoulder blade.

“Our living together trial?” you clarify with your ask, letting out a gasp as he nibbles on your shoulder gently.

“Yeah. Just wonderin’ where your mind’s at,” Luca murmurs, his eager hands beginning to explore underneath the oversized shirt you put on before bed last night.

“Well… I really like this,” you reply, the sound that comes out of your mouth somewhere between a giggle and a moan.

“Hmmmm?” Luca sounds, innocently.

“This… Waking up to you thing.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm.”

Luca’s name escapes your lips as his fingers gently begin to play with your nipples, his erection hard against your back as you begin to grind your hips back against.

“And the access to round the clock sex is really a bonus,” you sigh, blissfully.

“Oh yeah?” he asks you again, a large tatted hand slipping between your legs.

“Yeah… I’d even be… interested in leaning into that part… right now,” you hiss in reply to his touch. “Considering you’re distracting me with sex.”

“Hmmmmm. ‘S not just it, love. Have I told you how grateful I am for what you’ve done for Marcus?” Luca asks, his mouth back on your neck. He presses your body against him, your back to his chest as he rocks his hips against yours.

“Luca!” you protest, unable to focus on the conversation.

“It’s your kindness. Your heart… I’m in awe of it,” he continues to praise you as the two of you begin to set a rhythm between your bodies.

It’s all heat, and soft sighs of pleasure, and foreplay.

“Well, I know a little something about what he’s going through,” you answer breathlessly. You begin to impatiently push the hem of your shirt higher so that you can give Luca more access to your body.

“That’s why I love you,” Luca murmurs into your skin, his hands all over you, his focus unbroken and your mind beginning to go blank. His hands are tearing your shirt over your head as he continues to praise you. “Your heart, the way you share it.”

“You helped me get there, baby,” you gasp, turning your head so that you can kiss your boyfriend.

Instead of answering, Luca nods knowingly, before crashing his lips into yours. His mouth on yours feels like heaven, and you can’t believe that you ever fought your feelings for him.

“Ah fuck it. Let’s do it. Let’s move in together,” you surrender to him, lost in the moment.

“Yeah?” Luca pauses, pulling away, as if almost can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“Yeah. I mean it, baby,” you nod, catching his gaze, certain in the way you answer. “I wanna wake up to you every morning.”

“Me too, my love,” Luca grins, before pressing his lips to yours again. “Now will you please let me fuck you, darling?”

“Fuck yes.”

Luca spends the next hour showing you just how grateful he is for you, while you in return, spend the next hour showing him just how sure you are about this decision.

And you are sure. If mornings like this are a constant for the rest of your life, you think you’ll die a happy woman.

You’ve found a home in him, and he, you. He’s the person you want to come home to at the end of the day. He’s the man that puts a smile on your face every single time he gets on his soapbox about how Beyonce is the performer of your lifetimes, and he is unequivocally the best, most unexpected thing in your life.

Luca Davies, in almost a year of knowing him, and eight months of getting to love him, has somehow become your favorite person.

By the time you and Luca are both showered and decent-for-company, you’ve begun your mise en place for brunch, completely content with the fact that you’re running a little behind schedule (and in all fairness, the sex was worth it – it’s always worth it). The smell of bacon sizzling away on your carbon steel fry pan fills the entire apartment, and you’re glad that Luca opened a window earlier. It’s not exactly window weather yet, but the air ventilation is a must when it comes to smoked meats.

While you play catch up with your brunch plan, Luca’s busy welcoming Marcus in, pouring him a cup of coffee using the extensive ten-step pour over he’s been fixated on ever since he purchased it, while they chat here and there about what else he’s explored in Denmark.

“Been too busy working, to be honest but… I don’t know. I might wander around today… see what kind of stuff I can get into,” Marcus answers frankly with a shrug.

“Ah, mate. We just had a walk at the Frederiksberg Gardens. Definitely something I’d recommend checking out,” Luca suggests, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he mentions it.

Luca continues moving through his list of recommendations, Marcus chiming in with places and things he did the last time he was here, excited to spend a few days exploring the city instead of just working.

“Wanderin’ around. I dunno. There’s something about it. ‘S good for the spirit, you know?” Luca concludes.

“Yeah,” Marcus nods in agreement, before turning his attention over to the French toast you’re working on. “Okay, I see you. What is that? Mascarpone?”

“Yeah, good eye. It’s just something new I’m working on: a mascarpone stuffed french toast. We’re actually talking about extending our hours… maybe doing weekend brunch,” you answer thoroughly, as you dip the stuffed pieces of bread into their egg batter, pre-cook.

“For real? That’s sick,” Marcus compliments, watching you carefully. “I mean… shit. You could have a whole brunch spot.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, looking up from your cutting board.

“A Brunch spot,” Marcus repeats, simply, the excitement in his eyes at the new idea, evident. “Yeah, you know. Luca could do the morning pastries. You work your magic on the rest of the menu.”

“That’s a novel idea! What do you think, my love?” Luca asks, intrigue in his voice as he searches your face for a reaction.

“I-,” you begin, looking from Luca to Marcus, then back to Luca again. “I… never thought about it like that.” You take a beat, eyeing Luca carefully. “We’ve never talked about going into business together.”

Marcus shrugs, before picking up his coffee mug, “Yo, it’s just a thought. I think you two would be unstoppable together.”

“Unstoppable, eh?” Luca asks, his eyes locked with yours.

You only hum in response, raising a quirked eyebrow in Luca’s direction before adding:

“It’s certainly one hell of an idea, Marcus.”

Kokuore

Monday afternoon, you find yourself at your restaurant with Marcus Brooks, on a day off.

“I might need a little extra help with something tomorrow. We’re closed tomorrow, but I want to get ahead on this special I’m working on. Could use the help of a pastry chef. What do you say?” you’d proposed to him, over one more espresso before he left.

To Luca’s dismay, (“ you silly Americans just can’t enjoy a day of doing nothing,” he’d teased the two of you) Marcus had given you an unwavering yes, reassuring you that he was down to learn everything he possibly could from you, especially while he was here.

And it’s true. You do need the help. But should he want someone to talk to – someone who gets it, even just a little bit – you want to offer him the space and the opportunity to do so.

“As a patissier, do you get tasked with pasta? At The Bear?” you ask Marcus, as you pleat a dumpling in hand with a speed that only comes with practice.

“Nah,” Marcus sounds, his focus on the dumpling he’s pleating too. His concentration on getting the pleats right is reverent and unbroken, even as he answers your question. “Our head chef, Carmy, he uh… he comes from an Italian American family so when we’ve done a stuffed pasta… he usually takes the lead on that.”

You nod in understanding, placing the dumpling you’ve just finished down on the full-sized sheet pan. The two of you sit across from each other, having pushed a few dining tables together as a makeshift workstation.

“Think Luca’ll take over this kinda stuff when you guys open a restaurant together?” Marcus asks, lightheartedly pushing his agenda from yesterday.

You laugh in response, your hands working quickly on yet another dumpling.

“For someone with no skin in the game, you’re really insistent on this idea,” you tease him in return.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it,” Marcus pushes right back, his tone still light.

“I…” you sigh, trailing off as you pause your work for a moment. “You know, we just said we’d move in together. That and a restaurant? Feels fast.”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Like… a few hours before you came over for brunch,” you elaborate, earning a whistle from Marcus. The two of you exchange a look, and a laugh, as you pick up another dumpling wrapper that you and Marcus rolled out together earlier.

“It’s a good idea though,” you add, stealing a glance his way so that he knows that you’re serious.

“Well, when you two inevitably do open a restaurant… I want ten percent,” Marcus jokes, earning another laugh from you.

“Deal,” you agree with him.

You and Marcus work like this, exchanging a few words, the conversation light, underscored by a softer acoustic soundtrack from one of your Spotify radio stations.

“So how’d you learn to cook like this?” Marcus asks you curiously.

“Uh…” you hesitate, treading carefully as you realize this conversation could open a can of worms.

“I don’t know how much Luca’s told you about me… but I was married… before him,” you begin, cautiously. “And… well, I learned a lot of this… a lot of traditional Japanese cooking from my mother-in-law.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. These are her dumplings actually – her recipe. She passed away last Fall and… well, it was important to me to celebrate her – to celebrate her life – by creating a few dishes for her,” you continue, and it’s as if all of the air has been sucked out of the room. “We’re bringing this one back as a special this month but um… yeah. I’m… still very much grieving and… it helps me remember her. Cooking her food helps me feel close to her, you know?”

“Yeah,” Marcus sighs, his heart heavy as he exhales.

He waits a beat.

And then another, having paused his work as he watches you pleat, head down, with expert hands.

The silence between you and Marcus is full, heavy, connected by shared experience. You wait for Marcus to say something, and when he doesn’t, you decide to continue.

“This restaurant… has so much of my heart in it: it’s got my love for Italian food from growing up in my best friend’s family’s restaurant, and it’s got my love for her – for Aiko – and everything she taught me,” you begin to explain. “And lately… it’s got a fresh perspective… inspired by the love I have with Luca, I think. Well, I know. Inspired by him… how this place brought us together.”

“The name itself is… totally made up, but means a lot to me. The Japanese word for heart is, kokoro, and the Italian word for heart is, cuore. Somehow an homage to my past… and was… Prophetic in so many ways too.”

As Marcus listens, Luca’s previous question lingers in his head:

How’s your heart?

At the time he didn’t know how to answer, and after five days in Copenhagen – after five days of doing what he loves in a place that he loves – his heart is somehow so full, yet so broken all at once. He’s filled with deep sorrow and with the spark of creativity all at the same time, and he’s just not sure how to hold all of this feeling inside of him.

Marcus waits a beat, opens his mouth, then lets the words fall out.

“It’s evident. In your food,” is all he manages to say. “It’s got soul. It’s got heart. I-, it’s inspiring. That’s for sure.”

“I made a dish. For Michael,” Marcus adds, his eyes on the dumpling he works on, but the guard on his heart beginning to fall away. “He was uh… well, he was the old owner of the restaurant, called The Beef back then. Carmy took over after he died. Felt right to honor him and his life, you know? When we reopened as The Bear.”

“Food is… it’s our art, you know?” you agree. “Sometimes it’s the only way I know how to express myself and… sometimes it’s just the thing that makes sense.”

“Yeah.”

A beat.

“Maybe one day I can make one for my mom,” Marcus says, his voice stuck in his throat as he admits, “I don’t know if I’m ready yet. But I think… I think I’d like to eventually.”

“Of course,” you reassure him gently. “You don’t have to be ready now. You don’t have to be ready ever. But when you are, your art will always be there.”

“Thanks,” Marcus nods solemnly.

You get up this time, realizing the sheet pan is full, and ready to be placed on the baker’s rack. As you return to the table with a new empty sheet pan, lined with parchment paper, Marcus finally asks you, his eyes soft, the heartbreak in them present.

“How’d you get through? You know. Losing her? Your mother-in-law?”

You return to your chair with a heavy sigh.

“I’ll let you know when I do,” you answer, letting up a soft chuckle. “It helps to have good people and… from what Luca’s told me, you do. But… I had to let ‘em in, let ‘em help me. Let ‘em love me. And in all honesty, most days I’m still just… taking it day by day.”

“Yeah, I-. I do. I got some really good people. Back home,” Marcus drags out slowly.

“Then that’s all that matters. Your people and your heart. The rest… you just-,” you start.

“Take day by day?” Marcus interjects, pausing to catch your eyes.

You and Marcus exchange a knowing look, the recognition of each others’ pain is met with empathy.

“Yeah. I think that's all we can do.”

By the end of your work session with Marcus, you’re ready to head home so that you can spend the rest of the day with Luca.

“What’re you gonna do with the rest of your day?” you ask Marcus, curiously.

With a sigh, and then a shrug, and a heart that feels just a little lighter, he answers with:

“Think I might wander around a bit. Someone once told me it’s good for the spirit.”

#chef luca #will poulter #luca the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear headcanon #luca x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #chef luca x reader #pastry chef luca #burn your life down

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from-the-clouds · 1 year

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texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. iii

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist | previous chapter | gif credit

chapter summary: Somehow, you realize you've accidentally ended up spending almost every weekend for the last month and a half with either one, or all of the Millers. pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 8.7k chapter warnings: some angst, alcohol consumption, marijuana use, suggestive thoughts (but no smut), referenced parental neglect, implied age gap. reader has daddy issues (shocker!) & a fear of intimacy. a/n: this chapter is so disgustingly sweet it might give you a cavity. truly. but its also a little self-indulgent because joel is in my dream blunt rotation :/ please be patient with updates because i have a career/social life/apartment, and am a perfectionist! i promise i will always (try) to make the wait worth your while. Also, here's a link to the song Joel plays on guitar, since it's not on Spotify so I couldn't add it to the playlist.

-April 19, 2003-

“Well, that was awkward.”

Obviously, Joel thinks to himself as Sarah turns to watch the retreating form of her teacher, while Joel stares straight ahead at the crowd in front of him. At first, he had thought she was just being polite. It was the right thing to do, to say hello to a parent and a student if you see them outside of class. But…they were seeing each other at a bar. And she’d asked him to dance.

We just got here, maybe later? Joel can’t even remember what he had said, something along those lines. It wasn’t a flat-out refusal, but he had been acutely aware of Sarah’s eyes boring into the back of his head from where she sat beside him, and he sort of blacked out, couldn’t recall what had caused her to get the hint, to walk away.

Joel grunts an affirmation to Sarah, and drums his fingers against the tabletop. There’s a dance floor full of people in front of him, all under various levels of intoxication, all of them dancing.

“Do you believe me now?” Sarah asks.

“I never said I didn’t believe you.”

How he had allowed Tommy and Sarah to talk him into coming here tonight, he’s not sure. Probably, it had something to do with how much he loved them both. How he would, ultimately, do whatever they asked if he knew it’d make that happy. But still, honky-tonking is the last thing he wants to be doing at the end of a long week.

There was pretty much only one decent bar in town, so he wasn’t exactly shocked he had run into someone he knew. Everyone came here – to dance, to drink, to eat, or to drown their sorrows. To see their friends, or even to find someone to take home for the night. And over the years, as a frequent customer, Joel had used this place to do all those things.

Tonight was special though, a little more family friendly. It was swing night. It happened once a month, and Joel had always made a point to take Sarah a couple times a year. When he was young, his mother had taught him and Tommy to dance, and he felt it was only appropriate to pass the skill along, even if it was almost obsolete. He hoped Sarah would be able to do the same someday, if she ever had children of her own.

“Will you dance with me, at least?” Sarah asks.

“Of course I will,” Joel answers.. “But let’s wait for Tommy, he’s ordering our drinks.”

“You mean your drinks.”

“No, you got a Shirley Temple.”

Sarah narrows her eyes. It’s the same expression that Joel has only seen her use recently, and he actually prefers it less to the eye roll. This time, he’s glad it hasn’t come with a question from her, because when it does, it’s always a little more frightening. “Come on, you know that’s not the same.”

Before Joel can respond, he’s cut off by Tommy’s voice.

“Look who I found.”

This is what he and Sarah have been waiting on, and Joel turns to sees Tommy with all three of their drinks in hand. Over his shoulder, there’s a woman who looks vaguely familiar, wearing daisy dukes and a plaid shirt. After a second, he realizes it’s you.

Most of the time when Joel sees you – from across the street, of course – you’re in a power suit, a pencil skirt. Sometimes, it’s more casual – athletic clothes. There was also that black silk robe he can’t seem to shake from his memory. But this is so…different. It’s clear you’re trying to blend in with the crowd, but you don’t. Not because you’re not pulling it off – you definitely are, effortlessly – he’s just pretty sure if he walks into any room you’re in, his eyes will always be drawn in your direction.

Joel doesn’t see, but rather feels – Sarah recognize that you’re in front of her, because when she does, she’s tapping him on the arm before he can utter a greeting. “Dad, can I get out and say hi?”

He’s standing to let her out just as you step closer to the table, and you come chest to chest. “Hey,” he says.

“Hi, Joel,” you say, a soft smile on your face. Your eyes remain locked on his just a moment too long, before Sarah is wrapping you up in a hug, and you’re focused on her when she draws back. “How are you?” you ask.

Joel doesn’t hear Sarah’s response, because his brother is pressing a drink into his hand - a Jack and Coke, same as what you and Tommy are drinking.

“Sit down, please!” Tommy encourages.

“Are you sure?” you ask. “This looks like a family thing, I don’t want to-”

“Please!” Sarah exclaims.

“What she said,” Tommy seconds Sarah’s sentiments.

For a second, you seem to contemplate the offer, and then you accept the invitation, sliding into the booth across from where Sarah has settled back next to her father. Joel makes eye contact with his brother, sitting next to you. Tommy’s eyebrows are raised suggestively, and there’s a playful smirk on his face when he tilts his head in your direction. Joel gives him nothing, already irritated by his brother’s goading.

“Is that a Shirley Temple?” you point to Sarah’s drink. When she nods, you continue. “I haven’t had one of those in forever,” you say.

“Want a sip?”

“Sure,” Sarah slides the glass across to you, and you sip from the straw, pondering. “I should’ve gotten one of those instead. They were my favorite growing up.”

“Can I have a sip of yours?”

“No,” you and Joel say at the same time.

“You’re not gonna like it,” he adds.

“You always say that, but how can you know?”

Joel sighs. “Okay, fine. Try mine.”

Sarah seems pleased to get what she wants. When the bitterness of the whiskey registers, the triumphant expression leaves her face completely.

“Told you,” he says. Sarah grimaces, accepting defeat, and returns to her beverage.

Tommy leans forward, urging Joel to start making conversation as if this is a date and it’s his responsibility. But before he can think of anything, Sarah pipes up.

“Guess what?” she asks you.

“What?”

“My teacher’s here.”

“Yeah?” you ask. Joel takes a long pull off his drink, hoping it’ll loosen him up a little.

“Yeah, she tried to hit on my dad.”

Joel feels the cocktail of whiskey and soda get caught in his throat.

“Oh….” you sound intrigued, and you lean forward. He wonders if this is the dynamic between you and Sarah when he’s not around. Like you’re two friends, engaging in some harmless gossip. “Really?” Your gaze flickers between him and Sarah.

Sarah bobs her head once. “She has a thing for him. I can tell.”

“What makes you think that?” his brother joins in, moving closer to Sarah, crowding you between himself and the wall and putting his elbows on the table. Joel feels a flash of envy when you shift your attention towards Tommy.

“She just asked him to dance.” Sarah looks over her shoulder, nods her head towards the woman in the corner of the bar who’s probably already focused on his table anyways. Joel already knows what you’re seeing. Miss Davis is pretty, bubbly, outgoing. Probably about your age, if he had to guess, though it’s hard to say how old you are. He imagines he has ten years on you, give or take a few. And for all intents and purposes, Sarah’s teacher is the type of woman he should be interested in.

“She’s pretty,” you say it like you’re appeasing Sarah, but you’re looking directly at Joel. He’s not sure why you kind of frighten him a little. You’re sweet, he knows, even if you’ve tried to tell him otherwise. But there’s something else there, enigmatic and alluring, that continues to draw him in.

Tommy chimes in. “So are you gonna dance with her, Joel?”

“Uncle Tommy,” Sarah says dramatically. Her face drops for a second, though, her shoulders slumping as she angles herself towards him, lowers her voice. “I mean, if you want to, that’s fine, I guess. But I….I don’t know.”

Joel is taken aback by how long this conversation has gone on with absolutely no input from himself. Not to mention how honest Sarah is being. She doesn’t usually have much to say about his choice in women – he can usually just tell what she thinks. For her to express something so directly makes him realize how serious she is. But at the moment, he can’t find words to assure her everything will be fine.

It must be his lack of response that causes you to lean across the table and speak to Sarah. “You know, that’s valid,” there’s a tenderness to your tone. It dawns on him that you’re trying to comfort her. “It is kind of a conflict of interest.”

“Right?” Sarah perks up, just slightly, you’ve given her some support. “It’s one of those things you said you had going on at work the other day an….an ethical…”

“An ethical dilemma?” you finish her thought.

“Ethical dilemma! That’s it.” Sarah turns back towards Joel. “I think it's an ethical dilemma.”

For just a split second, he wonders why he’s been letting his already-precocious child hang out regularly with a lawyer. He’s accidentally creating a monster. But thankfully, Joel is finally able to find his voice. “There is no ethical dilemma, because I wouldn’t ever consider it.”

That seems to placate Sarah, and hopefully everyone will decide to drop it. Joel catches your eyes, and there’s something akin to wistfulness there, chin propped on your hand, before you blink once and focus back on Tommy, who's asking you a question. “So, are you here alone?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Not at all,” Tommy smirks, not dropping his eye contact with you. “...It’s just surprising, is all.”

Joel stiffens.

“Oh, well…” you smile a little. “I’m just trying to get to know the town a little better. Trying to engage in the community, I guess. But…I’m not sure if I am doing that great of a job fitting in.”

“You are,” Joel interjects, and maybe it’s a little forward, but he’d rather say it before Tommy does. “That’s a nice flannel.”

“Thanks,” You look down at your oversized plaid shirt – the sleeves rolled up to the elbows – that hangs open over a tight white tank top. Joel can see a sliver of the black lace bra you’re wearing that pokes out above the low neckline. He wonders what it might feel like to press his face there, to feel your fingers carding through his hair, but does not allow himself to entertain the idea for very long. Not the time. “I actually had to go and buy it because I didn’t own any plaid. And by the looks of it,” You gesture towards the dance floor. “I need to invest in some cowboy boots, too.”

“One thing at a time, right?” he asks, and you agree.

“So what are you all doing here? Family outing?”

“We actually had to drag this one kicking and screaming out the door,” Tommy points to Joel.

“You did not,” Joel defends himself.

‘We kinda did,” Sarah says. “Do you know how to dance?”

You shake your head no, look at the people twirling and dipping and dancing in pairs. “Not like that.”

“It’s really easy! I can teach you. My dad taught me.”

“Cute.” Joel looks towards Sarah, and catches you staring instead. Your eyes flit back immediately to his daughters. “But I’m not sure I’ll be any good.”

“You’ll be fine,” Sarah says like it’s already settled. Joel knows he’s spoiled her, that she ultimately gets what she wants. He worries sometimes that others won’t find her quite as endearing.

“Sarah,” he warns. “You’re making it sound like she doesn’t have a choice.”

You hide a smile behind the rim of your glass. “It’s okay. You can teach me. Might as well learn, if I’m trying to fit in.”

Sarah seems satisfied.

“Joel tells me you grew up in New York City.” Tommy says it, and Joel notices you raise your eyebrows at the implication. He’s talked to Tommy about you. And now you know. He’s pissed at himself for doing it, but at the time he’d been drunk, a little more chatty and vulnerable than usual, and had mentioned you more than once. Too much to be a coincidence. The issue was, Joel had never expected you would talk to Tommy again. If he’d known you would, he wouldn’t have said anything. He doesn’t want to imagine the damage he had done when it was just the two of you, alone at the bar. But even now, he’s completely at his brother’s mercy.

“Yep,” you nod.

“You don’t have much of an accent,” Tommy remarks.

“Not everyone has them.”

“That’s fair.”

“I did, uh, go to a boarding school in a different state, though, so I wasn’t around it too much.”

“Boarding school?” Sarah turns to Joel.

“Basically you live at school,” you answer her question. ”Kind of like college, but earlier. I started going when I was nine.”

Sarah frowns. “Wouldn’t you miss your family?”

“Yes, and I did.”

“So why would you go?”

“Well…” you trail off, shift your weight. “It wasn’t up to me. My dad worked a lot, so it made sense.”

“What’d he do for a living?” Asks Tommy.

“He’s a criminal defense attorney....owns his own firm and it does pretty well, so…” you shrug. “He was very busy.”

“And that’s why you’re a lawyer? To work for your dad?”

“At one point, that was the plan, yes."

“What happened?”

The question appears to make you uncomfortable, you cross your legs and glance down at the table. “Uhm….pass.” Joel sees your face go blank for a split second before you look up with an easy smile. It’s like the desolate look you’d been wearing was never there, and you point to your drink. “I’ll need a few more of these if you want that story.”

“Might as well order another round,” Tommy flags down a waitress.

You have one more drink, but you don’t really touch it as the four of you continue to talk. Joel has two more, and Tommy has three, because he’s Tommy, and also not driving. Both you and Joel also have to vehemently refuse his request to do a round of tequila shots.

After a while, Sarah gets bored, then insists on teaching you to dance. You agree, but seem awfully reluctant. Joel wants to pull you aside and let you know that you don’t have to entertain everything Sarah offers, but once you’ve stood up, and he watches her arm link through yours as you both walk to the dance floor, he can’t bring himself to intervene.

He’s never seen Sarah be so taken with someone before, and he’s filled with a vague sense of regret. He always thought that she was content with just him and Tommy. Maybe she has always needed more. It’s partially his responsibility, Joel thinks – what could he have done to stop her mother from leaving? Even if he could’ve stopped it, they would’ve been a miserable couple…which might have been more damaging to Sarah than her mother not being around at all.

Once you’re long gone, Joel can sense what Tommy is thinking before he even opens his mouth.

“Shut it,” Joel says before he can even hear his brother's ribbing.

“I wasn’t even gonna say anything about that!” Tommy raises his hands, but Joel knows he’s lying.

“We should go over there,” Joel says. He trusts you, but in a bar full of drunk people isn’t interested in being far away from Sarah for too long. Both he and Tommy abandon their booth to mosey their way towards the dance floor.

Sarah has taken you into a back corner, far away from the band playing, where the crowd has thinned a little. There’s room for him and Tommy to lean up against the wall and watch you both.

Both your hands are clasped with Sarah’s, and she’s teaching you the counts, the steps, while you study the way that your feet move.

Joel has a feeling that if it weren’t for his daughter, you wouldn’t have hung out with his family for so long. It’s just like the hike, and as usual, he feels more like a third wheel than anything else. You’re right that you do look a little out of place here. Maybe you don’t belong, but he likes it. You’re wearing a pair of beat up hi-tops, which are a sharp contrast to Sarah’s baby blue cowboy boots that are covered in rhinestone butterflies. He’d gotten them for her for Christmas that past year, and she only wore them during special occasions like this.

Joel is doing the best he can not to think about the way your legs look in those fucking daisy dukes. All on display, and he wonders what it might feel like to drag his tongue up the soft skin of your inner thigh, feel you quiver and whimper as he works his mouth closer to– Enough. He’s disgusted with himself for thinking about you like that right now.

“Dad, look!” Sarah says, and it seems you’re catching on all right, but none of it looks graceful. Sarah’s trying to lead – which she has never done – so she falters often, and also can’t quite reach all the way above your head when she tries to spin you around. “Oh no, look at his face!” Sarah points. You turn his direction, and Joel realizes he has to neutralize the grimace that has crept onto his visage. “We definitely aren’t doing good.”

“I’ll get the hang of it,” you turn back to Sarah, assure her. “You’re a good teacher.” You’re being nice. Too nice, humoring her and laughing it off, even if she’s making a fool of you both. But you don’t seem to mind, because it’s making her happy.

All of the sudden, the toe of Sarah’s boot catches on the scuffed wood floor and she lurches forward. Joel immediately pushes himself off the wall as though he could close the space and catch her before she faceplants, but he can’t, and he can already see a vision of himself sitting in the emergency room at 2 a.m waiting, while Sarah holds an ice pack on her nose. But you reach out before the image is fully realized, arms wrapping around her shoulders. “Careful!” You warn. And even though you shuffle forward with the weight of her, you keep her from falling. Once she realizes she’s safe, Sarah giggles and throws her head back, her eyes catching your own.

He’s not sure what makes him do it. It could be the liquor, the way you look, the unspoken pressure from Tommy. Or maybe he’s just been wanting an excuse to be closer to you. Most importantly, at this rate, he feels like Sarah is going to hurt herself and also you in the process. Regardless of what the reason is, Joel decides to step in. He walks onto the dance floor.

“Alright,” Joel says once he’s gotten closer, looking at Sarah. “I can’t watch this anymore.”

“What?”

He halts in front of his daughter, jerks his hand. “Move. I’m takin’ over.”

Sarah rolls her eyes, but smiles a little, and drops her hands from your shoulders. Joel offers you his hand. “You mind?”

You look between Joel and Sarah, and she gives you an encouraging nod. “He taught me, he does know what he’s doing.”

“Well okay,” you take Joel’s hand. “You better not embarrass me,” and then you actually fucking wink at him. Already overwhelmed by the delicate weight of your hand in his palm, it almost sends him over the edge. He’s lucky he’s in public, with his family, because he doesn’t think he’d behave himself otherwise.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Joel answers. “Besides, I don’t think anything could be worse than what I was just watching.”

You giggle, and step forward when he tugs you just closer to dance, taking you fully in his arms. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sarah dragging Tommy onto the dance floor. Everyone is taken care of.

You’re smart. And because of it, you’re a fast learner. Even people who can’t really dance can usually figure this out, himself included. But in Joel’s opinion, it’s always been less about getting the steps right, and more about who’s keeping him company.

And you’re great company.

Eager, willing, gentle…soft. He’s embarrassed at how long it’s been since he’s been this close to an adult woman, and normally he might be a little nervous, but instead, he just feels…comfortable.

But Joel is a selfish man. He always wants more. Wants the band to play a slower song, so then he’d have an excuse to pull you closer. Wind an arm around your waist, whisper things in your ear that no one else could hear, and feel your breath hitch when they register. But this isn’t really the dance for that, and the rest of his family is just steps away. He’ll have to compromise – which he doesn’t like.

“I’m going to dip you,” Joel says, matter-of-factly.

“No you’re not.”

“I am,” he insists. “It’s essential.”

“I seriously doubt that.”

“Look,” he tilts his head to Tommy and Sarah, and the latter is laughing as she pitches all her weight backwards into his arms. He nearly drops to one knee to catch her, she’s still so petit, but their form is actually pretty good. And they aren’t the only people in the room doing it.

“Okay,” you say, and give him a warm smile for a split second before becoming stone-faced. “But if you drop me-”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” Joel drawls.

He puts his arms around your waist, one of them catching the middle of your back, the other on a patch of exposed skin on your hip – your tank top has ridden up slightly with all the movement. You dig your fingers into his biceps, cling to him like he had hoped you would.

And even when he draws you back up, eyes locked with your own, your grip remains the same. You stay close.

“My turn,” Tommy interjects, and Joel can’t help the dirty look he gives him over your shoulder. He’s playing the annoying little brother, doing everything he can to piss him off. His brother wants to see Joel break, but he’s not going to give him the satisfaction.

Plus, Joel is happy to dance with Sarah, which is the whole reason they came here in the first place. She’s so excited to be there, and he wonders if there will ever be a time when she’s too grown up for things like this. He hopes not.

He ignores the sound of Tommy’s laugh mingled with your own. You were not laughing that much with him, and that causes a pang of jealousy. Joel doesn’t like acknowledging it, but he’s always resented Tommy for his ability to be the charismatic one, the charming one, the happy-go-lucky one. Even when they were kids. That’s what it’s like to be the oldest sibling. Never as fun, always more practical, more serious, the voice of reason. Always in service to their siblings, all in the name of love.

Eventually, you and Sarah are back dancing together, and since you’ve had some practice separately, it’s not as sloppy as before. It allows Joel and Tommy to return to their post against the wall, just out of earshot.

Joel feels his brother’s eyes on him as he watches you and Sarah. “Dude,” he finally gives in, looks over at Tommy. “Just ask her out already.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Tommy-”

“You’re into her.”

“Maybe,” Joel says, because he knows it’s pointless to lie. “But she’s got a boyfriend.”

Tommy elbows him. “So what?”

“I know you’re alright bein’ a homewrecker but I-”

“It makes sense Joel. She’s fuckin’ smart, and funny, and pretty. And Sarah fucking loves her-”

In any other situation, he would’ve acted weeks ago. But he’s starting to understand why he’s dragging his feet. Tommy’s right. Sarah adores you. Joel will fuck something up, it’s inevitable. And when you decide you never want to speak to him again, Sarah will lose you too. He’s already let her down enough.

“I should’ve never fuckin’ told you–”

“Take her to drinks, to the movies, dinner, show up at her house with a bottle of wine, hell, something. If you don’t ask her out already, then I will.”

Joel punches his brother on the shoulder. It’s not enough to incite an actual fight, but it’s definitely not playful. “Ow!” Tommy grips at his arm. “What?” When Joel doesn’t answer right away, he rolls his eyes.

“Speaking from experience, I’m surprised you haven’t already,” he raises an eyebrow.

“Once, Joel. That was one time. Will I never hear the end of it?”

“No,” Joel says. “And I see what you were doing tonight, too. Don’t think you’re slick.” he hopes to change the subject, and it seems to be working.

Tommy sets them back on track. “Well, I was just trying to get you to wake the fuck up and see what’s in front of you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What happens when Sarah grows up? Goes to school, leaves the house? Then, what are you gonna do? You’re just gonna be alone?”

“You are treadin’ on some mighty thin ice, Tommy,'' Joel hisses. ““You barely know this woman-”

“I’d like a family, too, Joel. When that happens I won’t be able to keep you company anymore. You might want someone else. And maybe it’s not her, fine. But there should be someone.”

For as much as he hates to admit it, Joel knows Tommy is right.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-April 25, 2003-

It’s six at night. and you’re already in your pajamas.

A couple years ago, you would’ve thought that was pretty sad. These days, it’s only a little sad. You prefer things this way. That’s the perk of being an adult living alone. If you want to put on pajamas before the sun sets on a Friday night, you can. If you want to get stoned on the back porch of the house you bought yourself, you can. If you want all those things to happen while you watch the sunset and listen to yacht rock, you can. And you’re going to.

You’re toying with the new digital camera your brother bought for you. Vincent likes to argue with you, but he always feels guilty after a conversation gone wrong. Rather than use his words, however, he just buys you gifts. You had apologized over the phone a few days ago…this was his way of doing the same. The shutter clicks as you snap a photo of your backyard, and you look at it in the viewfinder before discarding the camera on your coffee table.

Martini is on the porch with you, doing that thing where he stands just out of reach but chirps at you until you pet him. When you reach out, he moves away. He’s not great at accepting what he wants. Maybe it’s why he’s sort of the perfect cat for you – you’re the same.

You light your bowl, and you’re mid-inhale when you hear someone call your name.

“Hey!”

At this point, you’d recognize Joel Miller’s voice anywhere. You don’t want to admit it’s because you’ve tried to commit it to memory, daydreamed about how it might sound for his smooth lilt to read you a book until you fall asleep, or listen to him take a phone call in the other room.

Realizing it’s him, you inhale sharply, forgetting what you’re in the middle of and taking a much bigger hit than you had intended. You begin choking violently on the smoke while simultaneously scrambling to hide your piece and the related paraphernalia sitting out, and manage to do so just in time for him to round the corner.

You scramble to hide your bowl under the pillow of the outdoor couch you sit on, just in time for Joel to appear at the screen door.

“Hey,” you say, covering your mouth. Your throat burns, and you cough again. Stay cool, stay calm. Everything is good. “What are you doing here?”

“Sorry, I tried your front door and you weren’t answering, so I thought I’d see if you were back here.” It’s hard to see him from here, through the door, and he’s backlit by the sun that’s shimmering behind his dark hair, catching it in a golden halo.

You rise to open the door, and when you do, he continues. “I’m here to pick up Sarah’s soccer jersey.”

Right. Of course he was. She had left it a few days before, and you had assumed she’d come get it before her game on Saturday but it didn’t dawn on you until now that she ever had.

“I would’ve sent her, but she’s at a sleepover tonight.”

“Oh yeah,” you nod, standing in place. You’re trying so desperately to act normal, words evade you.

Joel squints at you, a slight smirk on his face. “I didn’t catch you off guard or anything, did I?’

“No, no, not at all,” you lie. “Come on in.”

Joel steps over the tiny dish of cat food you’ve left on your back step for the stray you feed, and into the screened-in porch. Now that he’s under the dim light, you get a better look at him. A loose-fitting flannel hangs open over a worn green t-shirt that barely meets the top of his jeans. His hair is damp, like he’s just showered, and he smells clean. In any other situation, you’d want to climb him like a tree, and he’s not even trying. But right now, you’re just doing your best impression of a sober human that is definitely not doing anything illegal. The truth is, you should’ve made him wait outside.

“This is nice,” Joel says, looking around. And you really wish he wasn’t because you notice that you left the clear plastic baggie containing your weed out on the couch. It sort of blends in with the green floral pattern, so you hope for the best, because there’s no way for you to sneakily grab it without drawing his attention. “I didn't know this was back here.”

“The last owners added it on,” you say, because that was the type of thing the realtor had said to you about the features of this house. And you supposed a carpenter or contractor would probably be interested in it. It was a good distraction.

“I can tell. Looks new,” he looks up towards the wooden beams that span the ceiling. The top of the porch is still covered, so during the few times it’s rained, you always sit outside to listen.

“I’ve got her jersey in the kitchen,” you tell him. “Wait here.”

It doesn’t take long for you to pick out the bright blue athletic gear from your pile of dry cleaning. It stands out against all your neutral-colored pantsuits. Joel has his back to you when you return, one of his hands clenched into a fist.

“Here,” you say, and he turns.

“You had it dry cleaned? You didn’t have to do that.”

“I kind of wasn’t sure if it was safe to run through the machine,” you explain. “But now that I’m thinking about it….it wouldn’t make sense to give a bunch of 11-year-olds dry clean only jerseys.”

“It wouldn’t. But it’s probably more convenient than scrubbing the grass stains out yourself.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“Unfortunately. But again…thank you.”

“Of course.”

This is where Joel should leave, walk across the street, and go home. And he does, well, at least, he starts to. He steps away, reaches for the handle to your back door, and then pauses. “You know,” he says, glancing over his shoulder. “The Watsons were tellin’ me the other day you’ve been complaining about a family of skunks living under your house?”

You freeze, recalling the lie you’d come up with on a whim when your sixty-year-old neighbors had started asking too many questions.

“Well, it does smell a little over here.”

“Uh-huh,” you give him nothing.

“Something like that….you should really call animal control. Get rid of the problem,” Joel’s facing you now, eyebrow raised.

“If I call animal control…they’ll just kill them,” you answer. “And I don’t want that. So…I think I’ll just have to live with it.”

“That’s fair,” Joel says. “But you know, Sarah’s over here all the time, and I’ve never heard her mention it.”

At this point you know he’s just fucking with you. But years of remaining stone-faced through business negotiations and family dinners has prepared you for this, so even if you’re a little stoned, you’re not going to let him win.

“Yeah, it sounds like a coincidence. But they’re never around when she’s here,” you say, in your own defense. “Ever,” you add for emphasis.

“I guess that’s good.”

You both stare at each other for a second, and your blood buzzes slightly because even though this is just a playful standoff, you’ve never made such intense eye contact with him. It feels electric. After what feels like an eternity, Joel lifts his hand from his hip, and you see what he’d been holding in his fist, now pinched between his thumb and forefinger. He raises an eyebrow.

When you see the plastic baggie dangling in front of your face, you purse your lips. “Alright, you got me,” you lift up your hands, but snatch the bag from him.

“And here I thought you were such a good girl.”

You don’t even want to acknowledge the full body chill that runs down your spine at the sound of those two words, coming from him. Snatching the bag back from him, he gives you a cheeky smile. “If you give me a hit, I won’t tell anyone.”

Your jaw drops, and you look up at him. “Oh, you’re trouble.”

“I’m not the one lyin’ to my neighbors.”

“And I’m not the one snooping through my neighbors' things.”

“It was right out in the open.”

Joel doesn’t seem bothered at all. But it’s Texas, so you can never be sure. “Okay, fine,” you say. “If you want….I could roll us a joint. Unless you have other plans.”

“The alternative is a house to myself for the evening and some chores, so…yeah. Whatever you’d like.”

“Great.”

Joel follows you to sit on the couch. As you settle on opposite ends, he speaks up. “So you think you could explain to me why my daughter keeps tellin’ me she wants to be a lawyer?”

You snicker. “Believe me, Joel. I’ve tried to talk her out of it already.”

He chuckles. “It’s okay. Probably a more lucrative career than what I’m doing. She’s really taken a liking to you, you know that? I don’t think I’ve ever seen her warm up to anyone so quick.”

“Well, I’m the first adult she knows that’s not an authority figure.”

“I’m sure there’s more to it than that.”

“I remember being that age,” you look down at your work. “It’s nice to have someone older to relate to, who you can talk to without being afraid of getting a lecture.”

“She probably needs it,” Joel says. “She told me you talk about girl stuff. I’m not so great at that.”

“I don’t know,” Your tongue darts out to wet the edge of the paper and finish rolling the joint. You put it between your lips, and rummage through the drawer of the coffee table to find your lighter, gesture between the both of you. “This is about ninety percent of how I spent my time with my friends at her age…and so far you’re doing alright.”

“Now you’ve got me worried about what’s going on at that sleepover.”

“Okay, well, I was maybe a little older. And with her? You’ve got nothing to worry about,” you shake your head.

He rubs the back of his neck, and his eyes glow with the reflection of your lighter as it’s flicked on. “I don’t know.”

“She’s fine, Joel,” you say, bringing the lighter closer and shielding the flame from the calm breeze of the evening. “She’s great. Really.”

“She is,” he agrees. You inhale, let the smoke settle in your lungs for a moment, before exhaling. You take your time, feeling warm from the weed and the feeling of Joel’s eyes on you, and he accepts the joint when you pass it over.

“I really didn’t really expect this from you,” he exhales, studying your handiwork before taking another puff. “You’re pretty buttoned up.”

“This is hardly rebellious.” Instinctually, you like the idea that he thinks you’re buttoned up. Deep down, however, you don’t actually want him to.

He looks so dreamy, the smoke curling though his eyelashes, tracing along his defined jaw, and then up, up, where it settles and shifts under the porch light, before disappearing completely.

Martini, who has been in hiding, hops up on the couch, and Joel reaches out, your cat nuzzling its face into his palm. “Didn’t know you had a cat,” he mumbles. And then, like some sort of magic, the cat plops down on Joel’s lap.

“I do…but…” you say out loud, then trail off because you’re in such shock. You glance up at Joel, who looks confused. “I’m sorry, I’ve just never seen him do this.”

He passes the joint back to you. “Do what?”

You take a final puff, and then put it out in an ashtray. It’s only about half smoked, but you can get into it later if either of you wants to. Plus, you’re more interested in what’s unfolding in front of you. “I kinda want a picture of this.”

“What?”

“I’ve had him for five years and he’s never sat on my lap like that,” you say, and you can’t keep the resentment from dripping into your tone. “What makes you so special? I’m a little jealous.”

“Of me? Or the cat?”

Something honey-thick drips down your spine at his words. You can’t conjure a witty response, opting instead for: “Shut up.”

You snap a couple photos while Joel’s still laughing, one hand on his chest, the other on Martini’s back, and then put the camera down, and lean against the back of the couch, curling your feet underneath you.

“You’ve got a nice view of the sunset,” Joel says softly.

There’s a distant fear you might never get to see him like this again, and you want to take him in fully before you drag your eyes to see what he’s looking at. Your backyard slopes down into a small patch of woods, the sky opening even wider to let in the aureate light.

“I know,” you agree. “It’s why I spend so much time back here.” The high continues to settle over you, strokes your shoulders, tugs at the corners of your lips.

“Surprised you like things that are so peaceful…being from the city and all…”

“The city is peaceful,” you say, thinking of the leaves swirling from the trees in the fall, and the snowflakes falling onto your family's porch in the winter, melting on the tip of your nose as you lean over the balcony to see the glittering lights below, car horns and engines and sirens piercing the darkness, white noise. “In its own way.”

“You miss it?”

“Everyday,” you say.

“What do you miss the most?”

“Uhm…probably the bagels,” you lie. Well it’s true. But it’s not what you miss the most. You think of your brother, flopping onto your bed on a Saturday night – a rare weekend when you visit home – and you’re trying to read A Tree Grows In Brooklyn for school but he’s begging to take you around the corner to get a milkshake. It’s the image of him you’ve so desperately tried to cling to and the recollections you share with him have only gotten more and more unpleasant as time goes on. “The bagels here suck.”

“Really?” Joel seems amused by that.

“And uh…I don’t know. It’s part of me. I have a lot of friends there, a lot of good memories,” you smile to yourself, lean forward towards him. “I had this apartment before I graduated, right? It had the best view of this little Italian restaurant, and I’d sit and watch people through the windows, eating and talking. I was supposed to be studying, but…it was great. I loved it.”

“What’re you doing here, then?” Joel asks, and you look back at the sunset. Here you are, waxing poetic and you’re sure he can hear it in your voice. “You runnin’ from something?” You look over to find he’s staring at you. Like he knows you aren’t being honest, and he’s asking you to stop lying.

So you do the only thing you can think of, which is to ask him a question in response. “What makes you think I am?”

Joel considers this for a moment. “I don’t know. I grew up in Austin. All my friends are here, my family. If I ever moved someplace else….it’d have to be for a good reason. And even if I did, I’d be lonely.”

You stare down at the floor. “Maybe I am.” Lonely? Or running from something? The answer is both, you know, but you’re not going to clarify. “My family. Things are pretty fucked. I thought distance would help, and it does, a little. But….that shit still follows you anyways. They’re always with you, no matter what.”

Joel nods.

“But… I have a life here. When I lived downtown, I definitely did. I don’t mind the quiet, and….I have friends.”

Joel looks at you. “You got a boyfriend, don’t you?”

Why would he think that-oh. You had tried to forget it, the morning he’d caught you still wrapped up in your robe – not the fluffy fleece one you liked the most, but the one you specifically only wore when you had guys over, cause they loved that shit.

“Oh, right,” you say. “Bradley. Yeah, uh. He’s…he’s….not my boyfriend. But…” you shake your head. “It’s a little complicated.”

“I’m sure it ain’t that hard to explain.”

“I mean…” you avoid his eyes. “He’s kind of an asshole, but we’re not really commited to each other in a meaningful way. Plus, he’s not around that much which is kind of perfect…for me.”

“Really?”

“Less to worry about,” you answer, purse your lips. “But…I don’t know. I sorta wish he got my heart rate up a little more.”

“He’s not your type?”

“I don’t really have a type,” you shake your head. “I like what I like.”

Joel rasps. “I feel the same,” and he’s made sure your eyes are on him when he says it.

You swallow, nod, smooth your hair back. “Anyways. Why’re you asking me all this?”

Joel doesn’t seem to find an answer right away. You narrow your eyes at him, studying his face, looking for something that will give him away. It’s a trick you’ve learned…silence…a bit of skepticism. It makes people uncomfortable. And Joel shifts his weight, squirming beneath your gaze. Until something in his face shifts, and he smiles….just a little.

“So that’s where Sarah learned that.”

“Learned what?”

“That look you’re giving me.”

“What look?”

“Like you can see right through me.”

“Can I?” You narrow your eyes further.

“You’re tryin’ to.”

He’d done a good enough job of avoiding your question, and you’re not gonna ask him again, and instead opt for a different one. “So what about you, then?” you poke his knee with your foot.

“Oh, I’m not answerin’’ that.”

“What? I just told you, that’s not fair.”

Joel runs a hand along his jaw, ponders. “Most women don’t want to be with a man who already has a kid so…things on that front are not always easy.”

“I have a hard time believing that. I mean, don’t you have an upcoming date with Sarah’s teacher or something?” you tease.

“That’s not happening,” he assures you. “But….I work so much these days I don’t have the capacity for much. So I get what you mean, sometimes it’s easy to not get emotionally involved but…I’ve never really been great at that.”

“You’re a relationship guy?”

“I mean, Tommy has been pestering me about this lately. Says at this rate, once Sarah’s grown, I’ll end up old and alone. Annoys me to hell, but he’s right. I wouldn’t mind…some kind of companionship. Someone to tell you you’ve done alright at the end of the day.”

“You sound awfully romantic,” you at him blink slowly.

“I can be, when I want to.” Joel rolls his eyes. “But right now…I think I’m just stoned.”

That makes you giggle. So he’s just being honest. “I didn’t really see much great come from settling down when I grew up, so I’ve always been a bit of a pessimist when it comes to love. What you’re saying….it’s a nicer way to think of things.”

You rarely connected with the men you dated. You chose to date douchebags, to date cheaters. It was better that way, to know up front what you were getting yourself into. The best ones didn’t ask for much, just the odd fuck here and there for a couple months, and you’d step away when things were no longer fun, if they evewere to begin with.

Actually getting married, settling down, didn’t feel like a real possibility for you. So you’d never allowed yourself to indulge in what seemed like a fantasy. Some women aren’t meant to be a part of a family. Your father had told you once – during one of few times he’d attempted to comfort you after your mother didn’t call on your birthday – as if it excused his own neglect.

“Yeah, and it hasn’t all been bad. I mean, I’ve had a couple good girlfriends over the years. They were sweet, fun. I enjoyed the time I spent with them, they just…never made it through the real litmus test.”

“Sarah?”

He nods.

“It would be hard, I imagine. For her. Accepting someone new into her life.”

“Yeah.”

“You really care about her,” you say. “About how she feels. It’s nice.”

“I’m doin’ my best.”

The way he talks about Sarah makes you nauseated. It’s something pure, and you can’t help but feel bitterly nostalgic.

“I wish my dad would have been like you.”

It slips out, and you immediately regret it. It’s been too long since you’ve gotten stoned with someone else, and you’ve forgotten your filter. And even though you’ve already divulged more to him about you than you normally would, this feels like too much all of the sudden.

This isn’t something you can backpedal, and before you know it, Joel is leaning towards you. There’s concern written in his features, he wants to comfort, and you thank God for what happens next, or it all would’ve been too much.

His shift in weight causes Martini to jump off his lap and sprint to the door of the porch. He stares at you and then meows.

Even though Joel isn’t touching you, you have to tear yourself away from the hold he’s got you in. ““I gotta let him in, or he’ll get annoyed.”

You move to open the door, and the cat slips inside.

“Is that a guitar in there?” Joel asks, catching a sliver of the gleaming body in the dim light.

“Yeah.”

“You play?” He questions, and you come to sit back on the couch.

“Not anymore. It’s more of a decoration. How about you?”

“A little.”

“A little?”

“A lot.” Joel smiles, looks at the ground like not sure why he’s telling you this. “I actually uh, used to want to be a singer.”

“What?” you ask. “You’re kidding.”

“No,” Joel shakes his head.

“Joel, what?” you put a hand on his arm and lean forward, then look at the guitar.

“Why not?”

“I was…young when I had Sarah. And I had to do something that could actually help us get by.”

“Okay well, you have to play me something, then,” you rise to step inside and retrieve it off the wall.

“No, no-”

“Come on, please?” you ask. “Don’t be a tease.”

Joel just stares as you bring the guitar out to him.

“Although this might be out of tune…” you strum once, and wince at the tinny sound it makes. “Definitely it is.”

“Here,” Joel takes it from you. “I can do it.”

It takes him a moment, but he’s plucking the strings in a way that feels so instinctual, purposeful, you can already tell he knows what he’s doing. Once he’s finished, he strums a few chords, and everything is magically in tune.

“Alright,” you prompt, when he hesitates. “What are you gonna play me?”

“You know any Neil Young?”

“Of course,” you answer.

Joel nods once, looks down at the guitar, and starts playing. You’d recognize the opening chords to anywhere, but he somehow makes them sound even moodier, and bittersweet.

Come a little bit closer, hear what I have to say…

He can sing. You’re taken aback. You’re not sure what you expected, but it’s definitely better than that. Deeper, raspier, and now you have new information about him that’s going to bounce around your brain when you’re bored during meetings at work, while you’re lying in bed at night, trying to sleep.

Because I’m still in love with you, I want to see you dance again…

You shift your weight, sling your arm over the back of the couch, and rest your chin on your hand. Suddenly, you’re feeling a little tired. He’s all-but putting you to sleep and, somehow, that feels like the highest compliment you can give. It could be because you’re stoned, but you feel warm all over. You close your eyes, just listen, until he’s finished.

Even after he’s finished, you keep your eyes closed, settling. Until you feel something graze against the back of your hand. Joel’s. He’s matching your own pose, facing you, but reaching out…

“That was nice,” you say, earnestly. You’re good.”

Joel smiles bashfully, tugs your hand from beneath your chin and pinches your index finger between two of his own. Your nails are painted a glittery purple, and Joel studies them. Sarah had painted them earlier this week when she’d hung out after school, and had picked out the color.

“So are you,” he shifts closer.

He’s not quite close enough to kiss you himself. But it’s enough…he’s just giving you the chance to lean in, to close the gap. The proximity makes you dizzy, and you’re a little overwhelmed. It’s too much. It’d be too much. You can’t. You’re afraid of what he might do to you.

“We should be good, then,” Gazing at him from under your lashes, you pull back just enough. It’s not a rejection, and you can tell he doesn’t see it that way either. There’s a mutual understanding, you’re on the same page, but you aren’t quite sure what it is. The warmth of Joel’s hand leaves yours, and a part of you is filled with regret.

And then, like it never happened, the two of you spend another hour talking. He’s engaged, intuitive, thoughtful, funny. By the time he excuses himself, long after the sun has fully dipped below the horizon, you feel like he’s an old friend. An old friend you want…badly, but, you know him on a level you hadn’t before.

“Gotta be up tomorrow for a soccer game, otherwise I’d stick around,” Joel says as you’re guiding him to the front door.

“It’s alright,” you say. “You’re welcome to do this anytime.”

“You sure?” he tilts his head, leaning against the doorframe on his way out. “You might regret offerin’ that….”

“I won’t.”

part iv

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storiesofsvu · 14 days

Text

Common Cold

Olivia Benson x reader warnings: minor language, that's about it. I did not read through this or edit it, so... not my fault if there's mistakes or its terrible LOL.

Olivia was pouring her coffee in the kitchen when she heard the small cough from around the corner of the hallway, glancing up in your direction as you rounded the bend.

“You coming down with something?”

“No.” You nearly shot her a glare, “my throat’s just drier than the desert.” You stepped up to the cupboard, pulling down a mug and shifted to the coffee machine only for Liv’s hand to wrap around your wrist, redirecting you to the fridge.

“You might want to hydrate first.”

“Fine.” You grumbled, pulling the Brita pitcher out of the fridge to fill the mug up, feeling Olivia’s eyes on you as you drained it in one go, filling it up again.

“I was gonna stop at the bodega for breakfast, unless you want something different?”

“I’m not really hungry.” You replied with a soft sigh and she raised a brow at you.

“What?” You asked.

“You didn’t eat much at dinner last night either, are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

“Yeah. Just a tickle in my throat.” You waved her off, slowly sipping your way through the second mug of water, “Carisi always has extra of that emergen-c stuff, I’m sure I can steal some, kick the ass of whatever this is before it has a chance to sneak in.”

“Alright.” Olivia surrendered, pulling you to her to press a kiss to your temple, “you let me know if you start feeling worse and need to come home early.”

“I’m fine.” You insisted, pulling down a travel mug from the cupboard to fill it with coffee, glancing up at your girlfriend for approval that she gave in the tiniest nod before you added sugar and cream and followed her out the apartment door.

By lunch time, vitamins weren’t the only thing you’d stolen from Carisi, his Fordham hoodie wrapped tightly around your frame as you shivered at your desk. Olivia was on the way back from the break room, glancing up across the bull pen to see you tugging the hood of the sweater over your head before returning your attention to your laptop. With a gentle sigh she wandered over to your desk, placing down half her sandwich.

“Have something to eat, you’ll feel better.”

“Still not hungry.” You replied with a yawn, running your hands over your face, rubbing at your eyes the best you could without ruining your make up.

“Sweetheart…” she perched on the side of your desk, “no offence but you look like hell.” Her hand snuck under the hood, smoothing back a few pieces of your hair. “Are you sure you don’t need to go home?”

“I just didn’t sleep well last night.” You yawned again, trying to keep this one contained.

“Yeah, cause you were up all night coughing.” Liv pointed out and you pouted, “and it’s nowhere near cold enough in here for that hoodie, it’s June…”

“Guess I’m just running cold today.”

“Let me take you home.” She rubbed at your shoulder, “get you some rest.”

“M’fine.” You protested, a small cough rumbling through your throat, “can’t have you taking off in the middle of the day.”

“Alright, meet me halfway then.” She slid off your desk, “I’ve got some Buckley’s in my desk, you take some of that, and go sleep it off in the crib. I’ll wake you up when it’s time to go.”

“Fine.” You whined, pushing back from your desk as you followed her into her office, surprised when she followed you to the bunk room. She’d grabbed a couple of comfier blankets from her office, tucking them around you as you curled up on one of the beds, her hand coming to rest on your forehead.

“You really are burning up. If this doesn’t help I’m taking you home, understood?”

“Yes Ma’am.” You half teased back, yawning again as you nuzzled into the pillow, pulling the blankets and Carisi’s hoodie tighter around you.

“Get some sleep sweet girl.” Liv murmured, leaning down to press a gentle kiss into your forehead before she moved from the room, flicking off the light to hopefully give you a restful nap.

You weren’t entirely sure how long you’d been out; you just felt the bed dip with Olivia’s weight, a cool hand resting on your forehead and stroking your cheek. You groaned, slowly rolling onto your back as you attempted to stretch out your aching body.

“How are you feeling?” Olivia asked softly and you coughed in return.

“Sweaty.” You grimaced, “thirsty…sore…”

“Ready to admit defeat and let me take you home and properly take care of you?” She asked with a soft grin on her cheeks and you looked up at her and nodded. “Alright, c’mon.”

The entire trip home was honestly a blur, you could barely keep your eyes open, your head resting against the cool glass of the car window. Your body was burning, but you were shivering at the same time, your head throbbing and your throat on fire. Olivia’s hand was resting on your thigh, squeezing softly in assurance that you were almost home.

Back in the apartment she helped you change into comfier clothes, chuckling at the way you pulled Carisi’s hoodie back on, claiming it was fuzzier than any of yours. She sat you down on the couch, taking a make up wipe from the packet and cleaning your face before she urged you to bundle up in as many blankets as you wanted.

Your eyes fluttered shut, listening to her pad around the apartment while she collected whatever she deemed necessary. A few minutes later and she was perching on the edge of the couch, her hand soothing up your side, “sit up for me, take these.”

Groaning as you did so, your eyes cracked open, taking the pills from her and swallowing them down with the help of the large glass of water she’d brought you. She left the bottle along with the Buckley’s on the end table, the water on the coffee table so it was more accessible.

“That should help break the fever, help with your head. Try to get some more sleep and I’m gonna make you some soup for dinner, you need to eat, alright?”

You nodded bleakly, dropping back down onto the couch and Liv leaned over you, squeezing you gently and kissing the top of your head. You shivered slightly when she moved away, her body heat vanishing and she tucked another blanket around you in hopes that it would help.

Being as quiet as she could, she looked into the fridge, pulling out what she’d need for some semi homemade chicken noodle soup and was forever thankful for the leftover rotisserie chicken from last night. Vegetables were chopped up and then placed in the pot to sauté along with some garlic and she preheated the oven for some Pilsbury flaky rolls to go along with it, popping the tray in once it was ready. Broth got added to the pot, seasoned appropriately and once it was boiling and the delicious smells were wafting through the apartment she added in the noodles. Glancing over her shoulder she found that you were still dead to the world, curled around yourself on the couch snoring softly and she couldn’t help but smile, knowing that you were at least on your way to feeling better.

While she was waiting for everything to fully cook she opened the tea cabinet, searching through the boxes until she found the one she thought you would like the best that had the best benefits to helping a cold. She flicked on the kettle and pulled down a mug for you before picking a wine for herself and poured out a glass, taking a sip of it as she waited for the timer to go off. The soup finished first and she pulled it off the burner, tossing in the chicken, knowing it would heat fine as everything kept cooking, placing the lid on the pot to keep it going. A couple of minutes later and the rolls were being pulled from the oven and she was pouring out your mug of tea.

Behind her she heard a quiet groan, a shuffling of blankets and the slow padding of your footsteps as you paused in the kitchen.

“Smells amazing.” You commented, your voice hoarse.

“Well I couldn’t exactly let you go empty handed now, could I?” She asked with a smile, stepping towards you to cup your cheek, kissing your forehead. “Surprised you’re up already.”

“Have to pee.” You yawned, “but I was out long enough to start feeling better.”

“Good.” She pecked your cheek, “hopefully this is only a twenty four hour thing then.”

“Mmhm.” You nodded before disappearing down the hallway.

You stopped in the kitchen on the way back, offering to help and she simply shooed you away, telling you to get comfortable on the couch while she took care of things. First she refilled your water, making sure it was cold and crisp, then she brought over your mug of tea, followed by a steaming bowl of soup with a bun on the side. Finally she joined you on the couch with her own dinner and wine, settling in beside you.

“What’d you want to watch?” She asked, smoothing your hair back, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

“Grey’s.” You mumbled back, blowing on your tea to cool it off before taking a sip.

“Alright.” She replied with a smile, picking up the remote to figure out where you’d last left off on your favourite binge. She watched you curiously for a moment as you tried to navigate the bowl of soup without using the table or pulling both your arms out from under the blanket, “you need a hand?”

“I dunno how I’m supposed to do this without spilling it everywhere.” You whined and she chuckled.

“Here.” She reached for the bowl, “settle in however you want. I’ll hold the bowl; can you handle the spoon?” She asked with a tease and you scowled in her direction.

“I’d be mad at you if you hadn’t made me dinner.” You grumbled, coughing a couple of times before you finally managed to get comfortable and could start eating your soup.

Olivia was happy to see you finish the bowl completely, using the roll to soak up the remnants of the broth before she placed it back on the coffee table. She readjusted slightly, her arm coming to rest on the back of the couch, her heart warming as you immediately dropped into her side. Your head came to rest on her chest, her hand automatically going to your hair, softly playing with it as you curled around her.

“Thank you.” You murmured softly, letting out a little yawn as you refocused on the tv.

“Of course sweet girl.” She replied, kissing the top of your head, “whatever you want, you get. You know how much I hate to see you sick; you’ll feel better soon.”

“Promise?”

“I do.” She laid a kiss on your hair, her hand soothing up and down your back, “don’t fight the sleep alright, you’ve seen this show a million times, you already know what happens.”

“Alright, alright.” You didn’t have any energy left to even try and fight with her, your eyes fluttering shut as the strum of her heart lulled you to sleep.

Olivia had said it herself already, it didn’t matter what she had to give up, or how much extra work she had to do, she would do whatever it was you needed to make sure that you were happy and healthy. She loved you; she loved taking care of you and more importantly she loved seeing you shine and you couldn’t do that when you were sick. She would happily sacrifice an afternoon at work, a dinner out on the town if it meant making sure you knew you were loved.

Even if that meant you passed on whatever bug you had to her three days later and the entire process began again but from the other side.

______________________

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