#nothing and no-one compares to you 💕

[mrdecoon]

i love you so gd much 🖤🖤🖤

[egregiousderp]

Hi! OP of the migraine post here. Yeah, I do vitamin supplements. B-12 and Magnesium. Both have helped tremendously. I also take a low dose beta blocker every day under the care of my doctor. Still get migraines, but they're not as severe and not as often. I can ride one out in half a day or ten hours or so without the massive pain.

OH YAY. I’m so glad! I made comments in tags because I wasn’t sure how prevalent it was, or how well known that certain b vitamins and magnesium can sometimes help.

Magnesium in high dosages relaxes enough that it works on the colon too or makes the bones all click out of place for me.

But usually when taking B vitamins to fend off a hormonal wave I take nutritional yeast in oatmeal with savory spices.

[scribblemesylus]

What they need to hear from you

The one where you comfort him : Caleb, Rafayel, Zayne, Sylus, Xavier

Hello! This is my first official writing of the LaDS characters; I hope you enjoy it! comments and reposts and love are most appreciated! 💕 The reader is the MC in this one! Angsty (but happy endings) No other warnings.Thank you to my friend who helped me find some inspiration for this post <3

Caleb

Caleb always tried to be the Caleb you remembered, even if he could not remember it that well, he searched through the little memory he had left to piece himself together. Because it was for you. He saw your face that day, the day you told him you didn't need him. That look in your eye, he didn't know exactly what it was; disgust? Pity? Terror? He couldn't recognise it. So, instead of acting like it never happened, he tried to make himself better, just so you would never leave his side again... you liked him before, right? So, it shouldn't be too hard... right?

Turns out, it was harder than he had ever imagined, after all the time he had not seen you since you were released from his fleet, everything between the two of you became suffocatingly awkward. Neither of you knew what to do, what to say, he was beginning to believe that even with the silly coupon (he didn't find it silly... not really), there was no salvaging what the two of you had.

He had destroyed it all in desperation to have you.

So, even though whenever he was near you, he felt like as if is chest was caved in from shame; he stayed by your side. Letting himself silently suffocate because that is what he deserved for letting you down -- or so he believed. It wasn't until you came back injured from a mission, where he ran to you, but he didn't dare touch you, his hands just sort of... hovered over your injuries, his eyes darting around, his brain trying desperately to find a way he could help you without terrifying you again. You sighed and watched him before slowly reaching toward his hand, your fingers brushing against the top of his hand "Caleb..." You whisper, your now strained relationship was hurting a lot more than your physical injuries "Caleb, I am not scared of you... I need you to help me." You push and look at him "Please.." It was true, what happened in Skyhaven was behind you and even though it was killing you with how different the two of you were compared to before, you aren't able to clean all these wounds yourself.

Caleb's eyes softened immediately, and he nodded. "Of course, Pipsqueak, you must be hurting a lot; I'm sorry." He quickly got up and grabbed the first aid kit as he slowly sat you down gently and began to look at your injuries, taking a deep breath before he peeled your sleeves away. "Pips... where did you go to... to get these types of injuries?" He asked gently, but when he was met with nothing but silence, he let out a sigh. "Please, prioritise your safety..." He muttered before continuing to help you as you focused on other wounds. You turn to him and nod "I do, it's just-" He didn't need you to explain, "I know." Was all he said before finishing up and packing the first aid kit "Do you... uh.." He scratched the back of his neck. "Need help with anything else?" He asks gently, but when you shake your head, he just gives you a soft smile and lets you be.

He stood in the kitchen and sighed gently as he slipped the first aid kit back into the cupboard. It wasn't easy to see you like this, in pain and uncomfortable. He just wanted to fix everything; he was good at it whilst he was younger, so why wasn't he good at it now?

He knew you had to do this; you had to save the people the way that you and he weren't in that catastrophe, but he wondered if you were trying to prove something to yourself, too. Caleb wanted to push them, tell you that saving the world wasn't your responsibility, but he has just got you back; you're finally not scared of him anymore; he couldn't ruin that. All he could be is glad that you were here now, that you came to him after all.

He closed the cupboard and prepared a small cup of hot chocolate for the two of you, and sat in the sitting room, waiting for your return.

After getting changed into comfier clothing, you nestled into Caleb, your heart racing slightly in fear he would reject this form of affection after so long... after what you said to him. But, he welcomed it and wrapped his arm around you. "I want to go back to how we used to be.." You say softly, looking up at his big purple eyes. "A-At least, start working towards it... You're my home, Caleb... I don't want this... awkwardness anymore."

You swore you could almost see him levitate off the couch as he practically shone with happiness as if those were the only words he ever needed to hear. "Anything you want, Pipsqueak, I am yours to command."

Rafayel

Rafayel was not an insecure man. At least, that is what everyone else thought. Rafayel, on the other hand, was not so sure. It is not that he felt insecure; it's more he felt this emptiness inside of him, and he had no clue what to fill it with. After all these years, he had you in his grasp once more, so close, yet so far. Because he remembered everything, he even knew what was to come, but you? You're so clueless. He knew how he lost you, how he would lose you and how he could lose you. And he had to deal with this pain and anger all alone.

His past failures jabbed into him as if he were Prometheus, constantly being pecked by a bird. He lived between what was his life and the life he had before, dealing with the betrayal he caused, all for the one he loved, for you, but you didn't know. You will never know.

A part of him did not want you to ever find out what kind of monster he was, afraid he would scare you away, like the otherworldly beast he is, but the other part of him was so tired of carrying this alone.

He wasn't insecure in himself, but insecure for what he could do for you, insecure in his love for you. Would it be enough for you to stay? For the two of you to finally have an entire lifetime together? Would it be worth plunging his people into darkness?

It was a constant spiral he had since you came back into his life, like a rollercoaster, but forever stuck on the loop, the happiness that he finally has you and the pain of what he was - it was a never-ending cycle. That a part of him didn't want to escape; he deserved this pain after all, didn't he? For what is a God who does not live in shame for causing suffering to his people?

But, deep down, he was just afraid he would become unloveable in your eyes. That was his deepest, darkest fear, the one that drowned him in darkness once the night time hit.

You knew something was wrong. It seems silly but when your world was a bit duller, when the grey clouds seemed more prominent or when the lakes and seas swayed as if it was heavy, you knew Rafayel was not himself. So, with a spare bag of seashells in hand and some of the rare materials you knew he liked, you headed over to his place.

The plastic bag twisted against your fingers, almost cutting off circulation entirely as you made your way through the streets and to the beach, slipping your spare key out of your pocket and into the keyhole of the gate, twisting it a few times to unlock the gate.

You gently swished the bag beside you as you made the way to the door, and you imagined your boyfriend's smile when he saw you. However, your heart fell to your stomach as Rafayel's 'organised' mess was scattered and ruined across the floor. The studio was a mess and unkempt; it was almost like an abandoned building.

"Rafayel?" You called out and looked around the place before you saw him sitting on the balcony.

He turned to you, his eyes screaming emotions at you that you had never seen on him before "Cutie..." He whispered meekly.

You fell to your knees by his side once you approached his side and cupped his face "Darling? What has happened? Are you struggling to paint?" You ask as you caress his cheek, your heart fluttering as he leans in as if he hadn't been touched by you in weeks (he saw you yesterday)

"Will you still love me, no matter what I become?" He asked you suddenly, and you froze as you looked at him; the two of you had silently loved each other until now, finding other ways to highlight your love rather than saying it.

"Of course you wouldn't." He muttered bitterly and turned from you, missing how your brows scrunched together with a mix of confusion and anger

"What-?"

"How could an angel like you love a monster like-" "I love you." You blurt out and make him face you, "I wanted to say it in a more romantic way, in a way that you will always remember.... but I love you, Rafayel, no matter what you become.." You smile softly and place a kiss on his cheek and caress it into his skin as if to heal him.

Rafayel's hand slipped down from above yours to your wrist as he searched your eyes for any deceit.

"Promise?" He asks, his grip on your wrist tightening slightly as he anticipates your answer.

"I promise, my heart has always been yours and always will be.

Rafayel may have a piece of him missing, but he was sure it was to be filled by you.

Zayne

Zayne is a man who craves control, not over anyone else, just over himself. He had to, because if he was void of control, there would be cracks and the cracks he could not let you see. If you saw his cracks, how could you trust him as your doctor?

He had let you down once, all those years ago when he left you, abandoned you, even if it was not his choice. But he had a choice now and he would use it to make sure he never let you down again.

So, every single crack he kept to himself, stayed up later, worked later until he could fill them all up again before he could see you. However, as he scribbled down notes on his research, the memories of his nightmares played in his mind, taunting him, punishing him, and he came to accept he deserved it. He shouldn't have let all those people come to die, he was a doctor, and a doctor's role was to save a life, not to let it fade away, yet with every year, the list of his letdowns grew.

Everyone told him that it was expected: that to save a life, you were bound to lose a few; it was how life worked. But not for Zayne, not at all, because with every name that appeared on that list, he was afraid it was a name closer to yours.

He couldn't have that, not when he gave up the life he wanted for yours to prevail.

You, on the other hand, were becoming increasingly worried and slightly frustrated with your doctor because this was the third time you tried to coax him out of his office. You have tried everything; cake, macaroons, sweets... all came to a disappointing ending. You thought that trying something as harmless as sweets wouldn't highlight your increasing worry, and it was small enough so you could get a small look at him.

It had almost been two weeks now, and so you made your way to the hospital. You just wanted to know that he was okay and maybe scold him slightly for shutting you out... again.

Once the doors slid open, you gently greeted Yvonne and walked to Zayne's office after making sure he had no more patients to see. You looked down at the box, a small muffin for Zayne, before inhaling and knocking on the door.

Gosh, you hope he doesn't reject you because as your knuckles collide with the door, It dawns on you that he might be avoiding you because you might have done something wrong.

"Come in."

You gulp down and hold the small box a little tighter in your hand, causing it to crease slightly before opening the door. You shifted on your feet as he was too immersed in his work to even look up at you.

"Hi." You greet him gently and slip the muffin on the table, and his eyes instantly break away from the paper at the sound of your voice

"I thought that since you wouldn't come to me for the sweet treats, I would just come to you because I know you cannot go too long without them." You say lightly and place yourself on the chair opposite his desk.

"Thank you." He says softly and looks between you and his work a couple of times before bunching the papers together in a neat pile and slipping them away. "Did you just come from a mission?" You raise a brow. "Are you not going to explain why I haven't seen you in two weeks? I know being a doctor is exhausting, Zayne, but you normally tell me ahead of time-"

"I didn't want to worry you over something foolish. I have it under control."

"Under control? What is under control? Why aren't you talking to me? You know that I am here." The words fall out, conveying your desperation. You had felt empty without him, alone, and you didn't want to feel that again. "It does not concern you, Y/N." He retorts, "If I thought you needed to know, I would have told you." You bite back your words and nod "Alright.." You sit there silently. You would've typically left, but something told you that this time, you needed to stay, that he needed you.

After a few beats of silence, you try again. "You don't have to keep it all to yourself... I know it may not concern me, but that doesn't mean you have to lock it away."

He tensed up. He hated how you could still see through him, even after all this time. He pulled away from his computer, which he was only looking at to control his anxiety for nearly scaring you away. He released the tension in his shoulders and took the muffin. "I lost a patient... two weeks ago."

Sylus

'What a fool' is all he could think as he sat in his office, piles of vinyl scattered across his usually clean office. No tune or genre was calming him. After all this time, after sensing you like he did, after preparing this life for you, he had scared you away.

He couldn't bear to think that because of who he was, his reputation, and who you believed he was made him lose you, not after all this time, not after the promise the two of you shared, not after what you went through.

He was a fool for pushing you too quick, too hard; his excitement and desperation had blinded him; why was he so hellbent on making you remember if he could just build new memories with you? Foolish.

You not remembering a thing, he could get behind, it made sense, but your hatred, your disgust. That he could not get behind, no matter what you believed about him. All he wanted to do was to have you in his arms and to show you what he had made. It might not be the cave you had a lifetime ago, but it was spectacular in this lifetime. A lifetime he built for you, and you didn't even want it.

He supposed he could understand. You did think he killed your family, even though he would never. All he would do would be to keep you safe. It pained him to understand your point of view, to see him as a monster. He was in his last life, so it only made sense that he was in this one.

But he had made you fall in love with him once, and back then, he was truly a monster, so he could make you fall for him again. He just had to give you the choice to choose him.

So, over the next few weeks, he let you choose him, come back to him. Not pushing or pulling, he didn't need to; the door was always open, and you knew that.

That didn't stop his heart from doing flips in his chest each time he saw you walk through the base's doors.

Tonight, you were also expected to come through the doors; he had the twins make sure the base was clean and tidy, that your room was prepared, and that security was at its highest. It was something he always did when you were coming over.

However, you never showed; you were on a mission, so maybe you went home and forgot; that would be reasonable... except come rain or shine, injury or no injury, if you said you were coming, you were always there.

He knew there was something more to your tardiness; without another thought, he sent Mephisto to look for you, and when he came back, the air was knocked out from Sylus' lungs.

You were found passed out, just outside of the base; it didn't take him a second to cross the base and have you in his arms "Oh, kitten.." He brushed the hair from your face, his heart breaking as you weakly opened your eyes.

"Sylus, I am sorry, I tried to call, but..."

"Shh, it's okay. You're safe now." He tried to use his usual tone with you, but his voice was softer, almost as if he was trying his hardest not to let it break.

He worked quickly to get you patched up, swallowing down his worries and quite possibly his tears as he did so, not even letting the twins near you. He sat with you, putting on your favourite vinyl softly in the background as he waited for you to wake up, not leaving your side, his hand placed on yours, afraid that if he let you go, he would lose you like he almost did tonight and the guilt was eating him alive.

"Stop looking at me like that." You mutter and glance toward him. "You're looking at me like your cat just died." You smirk slightly, and he lets out a chuckle "Kitten, why didn't you ask me to pick you up?"

"I assumed you had business to attend to-" "You should've called me. What happened if you never made it here, if we never found you, if you never came back to me, do you think I could live with myself."

You slowly sit up and look toward him "Sylus, I will always come back to you, always. I will always find myself here. You need to trust me on that."

"I do. It's just tonight seeing you like that made me feel-" "Scared?"

He huffed through his nose and pinched the bridge of it "Something like that..." He brushed the hair out of your face "Call me next time." You nod and smile "I will."

A few days later you were back fighting wanderers, but this time Sylus was by your side, his evol swirling around his arm and his hand "You sure about this, Sweetie?"

You nod "I'm Sure, I am safe by your side."

Sylus smiled; you were safe with him; you chose him, and fighting beside you was the greatest honour to have, so he made sure you left the mission without a scratch.

Xavier

It wasn't unusual for you to not see or hear from Xavier for days; you were sure he would pop up at one of the most convenient moments to be by your side. Or, pop up just before you were assigned another partner by Captian Jenna.

This is what happened; before you, the captain, could even mutter another person's name, Xavier appeared, literally faster than the speed of light beside you. Jenna sighed and cleared her throat. "Y/N, your partner will be Xavier for today's mission.

You didn't even look at him before you went to collect what you needed from the information room, and Xavier didn't seem to mind this. He just followed you obediently and read through the information quickly.

You were brought out of your focus when you suddenly heard his voice.

"Aren't you even going to ask where I was for the past few days?" He questioned and tilted his head, unsure why you're not interrogating him like you usually do.

You shrug and turn back to the tablet sitting in your hands. "Why should I? I trust you. If you want to let me know, you will when you need to."

To you, it was just a simple establishment of trust that you assumed you both knew of, but to Xavier, it was everything, and quite clearly, as little lights started to float around him, there was a slight smile on his face.

Trust was a big deal to him; after meeting you for the second time, he almost felt guilty about how angry you were at him for leaving you behind like he did. Not only that, but he failed his planet and the people on it, as well as the people he dragged here, to try and save you... He had failed them all and probably even you to the point where he believed he wasn't even worthy of trust.

You two didn't make a comment about it from that point. It was almost like, 'What is said in the information room stays in the information room.'

You watched him stand there and fiddle with the protocore between his fingers before, like always, crushing it into oblivion.

"Why do you always do that?" You ask, but he does not answer; he just walks you home. "Xavier, are you feeling okay? You've been silent the whole walk home.."

"I'm alright." He shot you a small smile like he always did and went inside. It was yet another protocore that was a waste, another step further from home, another disappointment to the people relying on him... but, at least, you trusted him.

So, he walked down the stairs and to your apartment and knocked on the door. He didn't even have to say a word, you just let him walk in and sit down, plating up some food for him.

You sit opposite and begin to eat, speaking about trivial things with him before he speaks up, "I don't expect you to understand me fully, but I need to find something, and I can't find it, and it's driving me mad."

"I can help-" you pipe in, but he just shakes his head, causing you to deflate, but you understood him in a way; you had things to do, personal missions to complete that you wouldn't want anyone to touch either. You clear your throat. "Well, if you ever need someone to help cheer you up or clear your mind, you can come here. If I can't help you with your mission, I want to at least help you after them." He smiles and looks at you, placing a star-shaped dumpling into your bowl and nods. "That'll be nice..."

Taglist: @61chai-tea @lueurjun @thebangtancloud @nawysstuff @phantom-astra

[adoredaqua]

After hours

NOTE: i don't think this was my greatest work, but it is something. please go easy on me, it's been a while since i wrote 😩🙏. also, it got angsty, i kept listening to "Let down" by Radiohead, so ummm... yeah... also happy 200!! i <3 you all so much!! xoxo 🥰💕

this is the inspo for this (i changed some bits so it fits better)

synopsis: oldergf!Sevika doesn't believe she's good enough for you, but does her insecurity run so deep that she's not willing to be with you anymore?

CW: feminine reader, angsty, modern setting, no usage of y/n, not edited, age gap (reader is twenty-five and sevika is forty-one), mentions of alcohol and smoking (not detailed), power dynamic (sevika is technically reader's boss but not directly), office romance, sevika is whipped for you (like really bad)

word count: 4 000+

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Sevika was the best gift that life could give you. Whenever you were with her, it felt too good to be true. Being with her made you realize that nothing could ever compare to her or any experience you've had in the past. She was older than you, but that didn't stop love from blooming.

She didn't mean to fall for you. She did everything in her power not to, but as soon as you smiled at her and thanked her for helping you with directions, she felt she had no choice. After that, she kept seeing you around. She hadn't realized that you would be the new hire at work. If she had known that, maybe she would have done more to prevent her heart from beating for you. Thankfully, you worked in a different department, which helped Sevika focus on her work. But it was as if you were following her, as though you knew she was falling for you and that she was resisting you. Every time you walked past her office to go to your cubicle, she savoured the view, memorizing the outfit you wore and how you styled your hair. She liked every hairstyle on you, but her favourite was when it was down. Sevika was often spellbound by the way it bounced when you walked away. She learned your schedule, and when she discovered that you liked to arrive at the office earlier than everyone else, just so you could settle in, she began to come in earlier than necessary; she didn't need to be there in the mornings, but she did so just to catch a glimpse of you. Sevika knew she couldn't have you, but that's what she liked about you.

You have kind eyes. Full of curiosity about the world, about her. The first time she had gotten to you was at an after-work event. It was a successful quarter, and to celebrate, everyone had made plans to go to a bar, the Last Drop. Sevika wasn't planning on going but was convinced after hearing that you would be present as well. Silco, her business partner, didn't question her about her sudden change of mind. He was simply entertained.

You were making your rounds, talking to everyone and catching up. Everyone seems to love you, and honestly, who wouldn't? You were so kind and sweet. You baked for the office, even providing a gluten-free option for those who wanted it. If someone confided in you about late work, you would offer to help them, and you simply wanted nothing in return. You were an angel, and Sevika had never wanted anyone more.

Sevika stayed put by the bar, talking to Vander and Silco, catching a glimpse of you here and there. By the second hour, the two men had grown sick of her longing, lovestruck stares.

"Why don't you just go up to her? Talk to her instead of staring at her." Vander suggested, giving her a knowing look. The trio has known each other for a while, going to college together. 

"I can't," Sevika groaned into her hands.

"And why not?" Now it was Silco's turn to tease the scary lady of the office.

"Because… that's just inappropriate," Sevika stated the obvious, but she knew deep down she was just using that as an excuse. She technically wasn't your boss, but the boss's boss. Still, Sevika wasn't one to mix business and pleasure. For the past two decades, Sevika has put her life and soul into this company she's built with Silco. She knows nothing but work. As she grew older, she realized she needed to set boundaries with herself. No one was there to take care of her, so she needed to. Work ended as soon as she left the building. No matter how important it was, she's made it clear not to call or email her after hours.

"Besides, I don't think she would be very interested in an old lady." Even with the sheepish smile on her face, Sevika's tone of voice was serious, meaning she didn't want to be pressed on. Vander stirs the conversation elsewhere, now asking about how it was nearing 20 years since the establishment of the company. 

The bar has gotten louder than what Sevika would have liked. Vander occupied the bar, fixing drinks while Silco was now entertaining a group of employees. Her leather jacket was now slung over the back of her chair, the white tee clinging to her body, and her muscles were on full display. Despite her age, Sevika was still a very fit woman. A couple of silver rings splayed on her thick fingers, she nurses a drink that’s gone warm while the ice melts in defiance of the glass. She’s halfway through weighing if it’s time for her to take her leave. There wasn’t much of a point in staying; she had already played a couple of rounds of cards with the others that she had promised. As she plans her exit, you decide to sit beside her. 

Not near her. Not across the bar where she can pretend she doesn’t see you.

Beside her.

Sevika’s fingers tighten around her glass. 

You glance over, bright-eyed and a little flushed from whatever conversation you peeled away from. “I didn’t expect you to stay this long in the night.” You say, voice light, like you had already talked before. Like, Sevika wasn’t your boss’s boss, who people usually avoided unless something was going wrong, so she could be the one to break the news to Silco. 

She doesn’t smile, not because she doesn’t want to, but because she doesn’t trust herself. 

“Didn’t expect to stay this late,” she mutters, eyes fixated on her drink, like it was the most interesting sight she had ever seen. “Thought I could finally make my quick escape.” 

You giggle - and fuck, it’s angelic. “Guess I ruined that plan.”

“You have a habit of doin’ that?” The words come out before she can stop them. Too casual. Too easy. 

You arch a brow, “ruining plans?”

“Making it hard to leave.”

She sees how your expression falters, just a flicker, before you giggle again - a curiosity blooming within. This was the first time you were talking to one of the big bosses, and you didn’t expect it to be like this. You weren’t going to complain, though. She swears under her breath and quickly finishes her drink. 

This was a bad idea. You shouldn’t be encouraging this. She shouldn’t be looking at you like this. There are unspoken lines, and she’s made a career out of respecting them - keeping her hands clean even when her knuckles are split open. And yet here you were, with a soft curiosity in your voice, like she’s a puzzle you want to figure out. Like she’s not someone who’s already lived too many lives to count.

“You’ve been with the company for a while, right?” You ask, not realizing your proximity is a problem. Sevika noticed but decides against doing anything about it. This was probably the only time she could be this close to you; she will savour it. 

She’ll relish your lavender perfume, the way your dress was snug, accentuating your waist. Your hair had loose curls just the way she liked. Sevika sees the curve of your smile and the sight of your dimples, making her stomach twist in a way it hasn’t in years.

“Longer than you’ve been drinking,” she says dryly.

You make a face, “Ouch. Was that a dig at me?”

“A warning,” she mutters. “You need to be careful talking to me like this.”

You blink. The teasing fades, confusion creeping in its place. “Like what?”

Sevika exhales slowly, jaw tightening. You’re not doing anything wrong. She knows that, and it’s not like she’s acted on anything. But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re looking at her like she’s just some stranger at a bar, and not someone who knows exactly where you sit in the company hierarchy. She knows how good you are with people. How you brought tea to the receptionist when she was sick and found a sincere compliment for everyone you walked passed. You have no idea what you’re doing to her. 

“I’m your boss’s boss,” she plainly states, each word like it’s being dragged from her throat. “It’s… inappropriate.”

You tilt your head, lips pressed together like you’re trying to decipher the true meaning behind her words. Questioning if this was her sense of humour. 

Except, she wasn’t joking. 

She’s trying not to fall.

“Oh.” You responded after a moment. Then, gentler, “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

She knows. Of course you didn’t. You’re just the young, sweet and friendly new hire at work.

“I know,” Sevika acknowledges, looking back down at her glass. “Doesn’t mean I don’t.”

Your brows furrow. She can see the puzzle pieces trying to fit together behind your eyes, but she won’t give you enough to complete the picture. She can’t. It’s not right. 

She’s not right.

Still, you don’t leave. That’s the part that gets her. 

You were supposed to leave. Yet, you stayed and ordered another drink. Sipping it slowly, feet swinging just barely above the ground from your seat. Instead, you talk about a project you were assigned to, about how cold the office gets, so you have to bring an extra cardigan, and about a stupid joke someone made in the elevator today. Sevika simply listens, occasionally grunting in acknowledgement, but not letting herself relax. Not until the end, when your glass is empty and your eyes linger on her a little longer than they should. You slide off the stool and turn to her. “You know,” thinking of your words carefully, “I was going to ask if you wanted to get coffee sometime.”

Sevika looks at you, sharp and still. Her heart clenches. She shouldn’t. 

You smile - not flirty, not even expectant. Just… warmth.

“But maybe I’ll let you ask,” you add. “When it’s appropriate.”

And with that, you walk off and find your colleagues that you were meant to drive home for the night. Only to leave Sevika alone at the bar, heart pounding against ribs that suddenly feel too small. 

Sevika doesn’t sleep that night. She tells herself it’s the whiskey. Maybe she left the bar too late, or something she ate didn’t sit right. But deep down, she knows it’s you. It could only be you. The memory of you - your smile, the way your voice dipped low when you said you’d let her ask, like it was some kind of permission. 

And maybe it was.

She tosses and turns, constantly catching a glimpse of her phone, debating whether or not she should go for it. In the end, she decides against it.

Three days pass. She sees you once, she was stuck in a morning meeting while you were on the other side of the glass, sitting at your desk with headphones in, eyes narrowing at the screen in front of you like the rest of the world didn’t exist. You don’t notice her looking at you. Maybe it was for the best. She’s done many things in life that toe the line, but this? This was where she drew the line. 

Friday hits, and Sevika’s in her office after hours, finalizing details of a new deal. The building was quiet, there was a stillness as the cleaning staff hadn’t even made it to this floor yet. Her phone buzzes. A calendar reminder she never turned off. 

Coffee with HR, 4 pm - cancelled.

And for some reason, that’s what does it.

She picks up her phone, thumb hesitating over your name. You’re saved in her contacts as just your first name - no emoji, no last initial, no indication of what you mean to her beyond professionalism. 

It takes three drafts. Finally, she sends a simple message.

You still up for that coffee?

Not bothering to wait for a reply. She locks her screen and throws her phone down, heart hammering like she just pulled the trigger on something she can’t take back.

The coffee shop is quiet. It was one of those corner places where no one wears a uniform, and all the pastries are homemade and slightly burnt. A place she wouldn’t be caught dead in. You were already there, tucked in a booth near the back, hands wrapped around a mug like you’re holding onto something precious. You spot her before she spots you - but not by much. She sees the smile playing on your lips, soft and surprised, and her chest goes tight. She slowly walks over, not wanting to ruin the moment by rushing. 

“Didn’t think you’d come,” you commented, voice low enough to carry.

“Neither did I,” Sevika admits, sliding into the seat across from you. There was a coffee already there, waiting just for her. You offer her half of your muffin without asking. She declines. You expected that.

There’s silence, but it’s not an awkward one. Just… suspended. Like both of you are waiting for the first move that’ll tip the scales.

“Still inappropriate?” You ask, sipping your coffee. 

“Janna, yes,” Sevika mumbled, rubbing a hand down her face. “You have no idea.”

You raise an eyebrow. “So, what changed?”

She looks at you for a long time. Long enough that it starts to weigh on you. Then, she says, “I got tired of pretending it didn’t matter.” 

You blink, the answer catching you off guard. Not because of what she said, but how it was so Sevika. Blunt. Honest. Gruff and vulnerable in the same breath.

“Does it matter?” You questioned.

She doesn’t answer right away. She leans back in the booth, arms crossed, her jaw tight, not with anger, but restraint.

“It shouldn’t,” she finally says. “But it does.”

You nod, eyes on her like you’re searching for something. “I’m not trying to cause trouble.”

“I know.”

“And I’m not a kid.”

“I know that as well.”

Your voice dips quieter, softer. “So maybe we just… have coffee. No expectations. No titles. Just two people who might like each other.”

Sevika huffs a breath, something between a laugh and surrender.

“Dangerous words, kid.”

“I’m not scared of you, Sev.”

That gets her.

She looks at you. Really looks at you - and it hits her all over again how goddamn doomed she is. Because you’re right here, giving her a chance she knows she doesn’t deserve. 

But she wants it anyway, and she’ll do anything to be worthy of you. 

She lifts her coffee and clinks her mug gently against yours. “One coffee.”

You grin. “One for now.”

And she’s fucked. 

She’s smiling now, too. 

It had now become a routine. Not the kind that dulls over time, but the kind that settles into the bones like warmth after a long winter. It started with a shared elevator ride after work. You would wait by Sevika’s office, leaning against the wall with a knowing smile, and Sevika would pretend she hadn’t been watching the clock all day, would grab her coat with forced indifference. 

Then came the walk through the lobby, shoulders brushing, conversations stitched with quiet laughs. The world outside the office felt muted when you two were together. 

Now it was you in her apartment. Sevika would cook most nights. You always insisted on helping, but she would only let you cut the vegetables and keep her company. You two would eat by the window, legs tangled under the table, with the city lights flickering like background music. Later that night, on the couch, Sevika would read while you’d lie across her lap, playing with the hem of her sleeve. There was always a moment, just one, where Sevika would look down at you, and everything in her chest would clench so tightly it almost hurt. A mix of awe and fear. A feeling she hadn’t let herself want in years.

Half asleep and curled against her, you mumbled, “You look at me like I’m going to disappear.” To you, it was simple teasing, but that summed up what Sevika has always thought. 

Sevika didn’t respond. Just stroked your hair and kissed the top of your head like she was trying to promise something, knowing she wouldn’t be able to keep it. 

It all began to unravel slowly.

Sevika found herself staring a little too long when you would laugh with a co-worker. She started pulling away after kisses. She lingered in the kitchen too long and tried to avoid dinner overall. She had snapped, once, over something small, you were late to dinner. Sevika apologized immediately, but it clung to her like guilt.

She was too old for this. Too jaded. Too experienced in the art of being left. You were still young and bright. Sevika loved that about you, but part of her felt like she smudged all that warmth. 

So, one quiet night in her apartment. The kind of quiet that settled deep, only the soft clinking of ice in your glass and the low hum of a jazz record spinning lazily in the background. You were on her couch, legs tucked under you, reading through one of Sevika’s books. You wore an oversized shirt, which hangs off your shoulder, paired with flared leggings. The sight of you wasn’t anything new, but it was still hard for Sevika to believe that this was her reality now. 

Sevika stood by the kitchen counter, leaning her weight on one arm, a half-finished drink in the other hand. Her hair was down tonight, and the sight of it sent something warm and stupid fluttering in your chest. Neither of you had talked much since dinner. Not out of discomfort, just that easy silence you’d started to fall into more and more. She didn’t fill space unless it needed filling, and you… You were getting good at listening to what she didn’t say.

Then, out of nowhere.

“I think you should stop coming here.” 

You flinched from your spot, not sure if you had heard her right. You looked at her from your seat, and she looked just as startled as you were. That quickly went away and was now replaced with a stoic expression. 

“What are you talking about?” You questioned. 

“This,” Sevika forces a steadiness into her voice. “Whatever this is, it’s not going to last. You should be with someone your age. One day, you’re going to wake up and wonder what the hell you were thinking being with me. I’m not going to wait for that.” That last part came out quieter, almost like she regretted saying it the second it left her mouth. 

“Are we really doing this now?” You raised a brow. 

She turns her gaze to where you were sitting. Tired eyes, scarred skin, that permanent weight she carried even when she wasn’t talking about it.

“You’re twenty-five,” she explained, like that was enough to understand. Like that should be the end of it. You stood, putting your book down on the coffee table, walking toward her slowly. “And you’re what? Walking away from this before I even get the chance to prove you wrong? So, I can end up with some clean-shaven corporate guy who has a dog and doesn’t smoke?”

She flinched. Just slightly. 

Sevika didn’t expect you to fight her on this matter. She underestimated how much you want this. She fights the little voice in her head telling her that she shouldn’t continue.

“I’ve seen how people look at us,” she mutters, turning away from you. “Like I’m dragging you down. Like you’re just… playing house until something better comes along.” 

You step back, “Is that what you think of me? That I would use you?” You tilt your head, trying to catch a glimpse of her. Was this really the same person who held you at night? The woman who made sure you got home safe? The one who would look at you like you were the only thing that mattered because you were.

“Do you think of me so lowly?” 

“I’m protecting both of us.” Sevika bit her lip. She knew she was taking the coward’s way out, but if that’s what it took for you to realize that she’s not the woman you want, then so be it.

“You’re not,” you utter. “You don’t even want to try.” The frustration starts to build up, you run a hand through your hair, not believing what you’re hearing. There was a long pause, raw and aching.

“I’m not worth the fight for you… Am I?”

Sevika wanted to say yes. She wanted nothing more than to declare you’re everything to her. That this could work out between you two. But she didn’t. She couldn’t.

After a moment of processing, a realization that this is the path she wants for you. You gathered your things and left. You didn’t slam the door. There were no tears in your eyes, not yet at least. You simply walked out quietly, you knew that trying to stay would only make it worse. 

Weeks have gone by.

Sevika went home alone. No one sang in the car or made fun of her ‘old people’ music. She cooked for one. Nobody was there to help her with the dishes. She read books that didn’t hold her attention. Not a single soul was there to play with her hair and ask a million questions about her day. The apartment had grown too cold. 

You two would still see each other in the office. You would pass by her, being the cordial and polite person you were, you would smile, but it didn’t meet your eyes. Sevika started avoiding you, purposely leaving early or staying as late as possible because anything was better than seeing you in pain. 

She’d lie awake at night, gripping what was once your side of the bed. She swears it still smells like you. Sometimes she’d reach over, pathetically, like muscle memory hadn’t caught up to heartbreak. 

The worst part was the silence. She missed your laugh because she completely missed the joke you made. The way you tried to speak Hindi, even though your pronunciation wasn’t the greatest, it was the fact that you tried. The way you looked at her like she was something good. 

It was late one night when Sevika broke. 

She stood outside your door, her heart thudding out of her chest like it had something to say before she did. She hesitated; it wasn’t fair that she was crawling back to you for something she broke off. She was a coward. About to turn back, the door swings open, and Sevika looks up to see you. 

You didn’t look surprised to see her. Just tired. 

Tired and lovely, and still hers, in some unspoken way.

Sevika cleared her throat, trying to gain some control of herself. “I was wrong. I got scared and in the end I’m the one that hurt you.”

You said nothing, but instead observed her. You watched the way her breath catches up to her. Her fingers fidgeted on her sides, trying to grab something but falling short. 

“I still think you deserve better than me,” Sevika went on. “But I also know that I’ve never wanted someone this much in my life.”

A pause.

“I miss you,” she whispered.

You studied her for a long moment. Then, with a soft sigh, you step aside and open the door wider. And there it was. The same doe eyes looking at her, the day she gave you directions. The soft smile playing on your lips. 

And this time, Sevika walks in. No fear and not one doubt in her mind.

Just hope.

[gtgbabie0]

Helloo can I request a sweet smut with aegon x reader where they've been apart for some time due to work and when they come together they just want to be intimate with one another

Aegon Targaryen x Wife!Reader

Synopsis: {Aegon’s patience has been wearing thin, he soon reaches a breaking point}

!!-18//MDNI-!! Sorry this took so long I simply cannot catch a break, enjoy my lovelies!! 💕

Since the moment Aegon sat down on his council chair he wanted to leave, to abandon the whole damned meeting and let the fools figure it out for themselves. What was the point of even being there if they overlooked everything he said?— if they did not take him seriously?

It angered him beyond belief, the way they looked at him, the snide remarks that left a stupid pain in his chest no matter how much he tried to ignore it. He sits there bored and pissed off, spinning the marble against the wooden table as their words blend into one another making one big dull noise.

He feels silly, ignored, and he doesn’t enjoy it— so he leaves, slamming his fist onto the table so hard that it causes each of the council members to jump in their seats. The marble rolls off of the table, smashing onto the stone floor as the door shuts behind him with a loud thud.

Aegon bites the inside of his cheek, trying to cool his temper down before entering your bedchambers- the last thing he wanted to do was sour your day with his mood, but it doesn’t work he can’t seem to quell the frustration that coils around his already tense body.

It's your laugh. The sound of your laughter, light and merry calms him. It clashes so greatly with the heavy weight of his heart, with the turbulence in his mind. He stands there for a moment, just outside your shared bedchambers, his anger evaporating as he listens to the heavenly sound.

With a deep breath, he opens the door entering with a relieved sigh. His lilac eyes meet your own with a tender expression that softens his features, watching your dressers ready you for bed, taking your necklace and earrings off with great care.

“You’re dismissed… leave us.” Aegon commands, waving a dismissive hand to the two ladies. They both bow courtly before leaving the room with knowing smirks gracing their lips.

You stand there however with furrowed brows, tilting your head in confusion as he draws closer to you. “I’m still in my day clothes?” You state only receiving a chuckle in return.

“I’m aware.” He smirks, admiring the way the silk of your dress hugs your curves. It drives him to madness and he can’t help but grasp at your hips as he continues to drink in the sight of you. "You don't need your dressers to get you ready for bed... I can take care of that for you."

The realisation hits all so suddenly, taking your breath away and the only response you can give him is a small ‘Oh’ which only makes him chuckle once more against the soft skin of your shoulder.

It had been far too long since he had taken you, all the interrupted moments and the long busy days had caused a searing ache between your thighs that you had tried to sate with your fingers, but nothing could compare to Aegon— he knew you like the back of his hand, he filled the spaces you couldn’t.

“What has spurred this one?” You ask, tone hushed and breathless as he leaves a trail of warm kisses along your neck and the dip of your shoulder. It wasn’t a complaint, far from it, you just wanted to know whether or not he burned for you the way you did for him.

And gods did he. Aegon's fingers work at the laces of your dress with practised ease, his touch feather-light and yet exhilarating. He watches you through the reflection of the mirror, the way the silk of your dress ripples down your body like a waterfall until it pools around your feet leaving you vulnerable to him.

“Do I need an excuse to want to touch you like this?” He whispers, lips grazing against the curve of your jaw. It’s all so dizzying in such an embarrassing way.

You lean back against him, enjoying the way his fingers trace along your waist causing your skin to break out in gooseflesh. He mumbles something about how ‘sensitive you are’ into the crook of your neck and you can feel the smirk that teeters on his lips when a breathless moan escapes you.

“No of course not— I’ve missed you.” You sigh, leaning your head to expose more of your neck to him as your fingers find his hair.

He nuzzles his nose against the underside of your jaw, humming in contentment as your sweet flowery scent surrounds him. “I’ve missed you— so much.” He breathes.

Aegon cups your jaw, tilting your head slightly to the side so he can kiss you. So slow and yet full of passion that has only been building up for the past few weeks. He groans into your eager mouth the taste of your tongue against his own going straight to his cock.

His arms wrap around your midsection, pulling you closer to him. He press his growing erection against the curve of your ass and he can’t help but rut against you slightly. He was more pent up than he realised.

He breaks the messy kiss momentarily, his breath warm against your skin. "You taste... incredible..." he whispers, his voice a low rumble, before kissing you once again.

“The wine perhaps.” The words are hushed through a small giggle. Once again his lips find yours, not breaking as you turn around in his embrace, one of his hands reaching up to caress your warm cheek.

"No," he murmurs, pulling back to admire you with a hungry look and a lazy grin. "It's not the wine." He leans back in. "It's... you," the kiss is much greedier, and his hands trace a path down your spine, resting against the small of your back, drawing you closer to his body.

You gasp, hands flying to grab his forearms as he suddenly begins to guide you backwards over to your shared bed. The backs of your knees hit the mattress as you collide with the softness of the bedsheets, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Where did your manners go?” You tease him lightly, propping yourself up on your elbows, watching him with desire in your eyes as he lifts his tunic over his head, discarding it on the floor somewhere.

He smirks, leaning over you, trailing his lips along your collarbones— a clash of teeth and tongue. His hips lay flush over your own as he slowly grinds himself down onto you, relishing in the sweet sounds that you make.

"My manners?" he murmurs against your chest, his eyes meeting your own with a glint of playfulness flashes through them. "They flew out the window the moment I took that dress off of you."

His gaze roams over your body, drinking in the sight of you laid out beneath him bare— hips writhing desperately. You gasp against the pillows as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the hardened peak whilst his other hand cups your unattended breast, thumbing over the nub.

“Aegon— please.” The words are a struggle to get out as he’s rendered you completely breathless, but the way your hips lift up to try and press against his, desperate for attention, tells him everything he needs to know.

He hums in understanding, leaving a trail of kisses along your breasts. “I’ll get there, my love… I’ll get there.” He coos softly, his hand falling to your restless hips as his thumb rubs over the curve and dips whilst his mouth ravishes your chest in wet kisses and small licks.

Aegon slips his hand in between your thighs, watching your face intently as his fingers part your slick folds, running along the sensitive flesh before catching your clit, rubbing slow circles over the bud. He’s completely taken with the way you arch up into his touch, how your lips part, the sounds you make. All of it— all of you—causes his cock to throb.

You mewl, hips bucking against his hand as he pushes two fingers inside you, curling them. “Mhm… you’re so beautiful with my fingers buried in your cunt,” He smirks, enjoying the fact he isn’t the only one who has been pent up. “So wet…” the words are muffled against your lips, your slickness coating his digits.

You brush your fingers through his hair, pulling him into a kiss as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you. Your free hand works deftly to unlace his breeches, the fabric falls mid-thigh letting his cock spring free, begging for attention.

Aegon hisses sharply into your ear, burying his face against your shoulder as your hand wraps around his length. “I want your cock inside me, please…” you beg him, voice strained with pleasure. The deep desire to feel him as close to you as humanly possible completely drowns out everything else in your mind, your thoughts now are only of him.

He nods his head in compliance, not having the strength the refrain himself any longer than he already has. Sliding his fingers out of your cunt, he coats your slickness around the tip of his thick shaft, the feeling sends a tingle down his spine, his skin hot to the touch.

Aegon swats your hand away gently as he guides the head of his cock between your folds, nudging the tip against your clit over and over again basking in the way his name sounds coming from you all whiny, laced with such wanton passion.

He groans as he lines himself up to your entrance before sinking into you slowly, whispering soft lovely words of encouragement against your jaw. The way you take him with ease, how your slick walls clamp around him it’s all so maddening— so mind-numbing and all he can do is huff and moan against your skin.

The stretch of him is so achingly good, the drag of his cock along your walls as he thrusts his hips against your own sends a searing heat through your abdomen. Aegon mutters on about how ‘good you feel’ and how ‘well you take him’ like some sort of crazed man, completely drunk off of your body.

His movements soon become sloppy, trying so hard to keep himself from spilling too early but the sounds of wet flesh and your moans coupled with the way your cunt squeezes around him makes it nearly impossible as he teeters closer to the edge.

“Fuck— I can’t— it’s been too long I— I won’t last.” He whimpers, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck, breathing you in. His hands pin your hips down to the bedsheets as he continues to fuck himself into you, moaning hotly against your flushed skin as you wrap your thighs around his waist to hold him closer.

“I- I’m close… don’t worry.” You reassure him, your hand grasping at his white hair. The tightness deep inside him eventually snaps, spilling his warm seed inside you with a broken cry of pleasure, panting and whining into the crook of your neck as apologies fly from his lips. You grab his face, kissing him greedily as you come around cock, milking him practically dry.

The pair of you go boneless against the comfort of the pillows, catching your breaths with dazed expressions. Aegon’s fingers trace a soothing line along your spine as you instinctively seek out the warmth of his arms.

“Sorry-” He rasps with a lazy grin, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then another to your cheek. "It's been too long"

“Mm… don't apologise, we'll never go that long apart again.” You reply earning a weak nod and a hum of agreement from him. You rest your cheek against his chest, allowing the steady rhythm of his heartbeat calm your own erratic one.

[zipora666]

neighbors give u a gift for valentines day!💗💕💟

wally worked hard on it!💕🎨

barnaby and his pranks!😤🌼

well u got ur jumping rope ruined so julie got u too!♪(´▽｀)

nothing is shiny compare to you dear neighbor!✨💎☀

howdy ry to find excuse to buy u flowers but..got carried away🌷🌻🌹

what can not be better then chocolate on ur valentines day? especially baked ones!🍫❤💕

i may sound corny..but you look quite lovely💖🌽💛 (hey @cloudy-dreams its been a while! so wanted to give u something small for valentimes day!)

missed drawing my silly monkey! ✨💎👑💞 what? no no of course he wont steal ur wallet...right?

[lostinlovingrevery]

Laughing while having sex with Logan, maybe he fell off the bed and you started cackling like crazy and he follows up, god his laughhh I’m melting. Or you were just staring into eachothers eyes and broke a smile and start to laugh, idk, I just love that idea 💕

Mirth

Trilogy! Logan X F! Reader

Laughing with the love of your life is all you need

A/N: GOD PLEASE GIVE ME ONE CHANCE

Warnings: SMUT, mdni, oral (f! recieving), fingering, logan hurts himself lol, slight teasing, grinding, giggly logan, fluff! unprotected PiV

"Logan! Slow down!"

You could barely react as Logan practically jumped your bones. His lips all over you, as his hands slid of up your shirt, already working on undoing your bra before removing even a single item of clothing.

It was a long mission, filled with nothing but Scott's complaining. Logan was pent up, and all he wanted was to come home to you.

"Not an option love, get this off." He motions to the shirt, while he works on your pants, while simultaneously capturing your lips in a heated kiss, nipping your bottom lip before running his tongue over it.

He couldn't move fast enough, very eager to have you naked and underneath him- his excitement compared to a child on Christmas day. It's all he thought about, considering it was the only way he could keep himself from stabbing Scott with his claws during the two-person mission that Charles sent them on. Why on Earth Charles thought it would be a good idea to send him and Scott together- Logan doesn't know.

Once your shirt and bra was discarded, and your pants were at your ankles, he gently shoved you onto the bed, pulling your pants off completely/- and practically ripped off your panties.

"Logan!" You laughed, as he slots himself between your thighs, eyes hungrily taking in your nude figure, something he had only been able to admire on a screen for the last 7 days. He shoved his jacket off, discarding it to the floor with your clothes, before kneeling down.

His arms hooked around your thighs, as he observed your core, becoming wetter and more inviting the longer he stills.

"Ya missed me baby?" He purrs, his eyes looking up at you, while you brace yourself up on your elbows.

"Mhm," You smiled, nodding slowly and biting your bottom lip. "Couldn't stop thinking about that picture you sent last night."

"Yeah?" He stroked your thigh, pressing a few kisses on your other inner thigh. "Did you touch yourself?"

Heat bloomed in your face, as you looked away shyly and shook your head, suppressing a grin. "You told me not to....I wanted to though."

"Good girl." His voice rumbles low. You felt yourself pulse at the sound of his voice. Deep, and sensual, whenever he talks to you like that. Your hand climbed into his hair, gently scratching at his scalp which made his eyes flutter shut. "Mm." He leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your clit, before he stuck his tongue out and flicked it.

He did this a couple times, teasing you as you squirmed underneath him, locked in his embrace while he has his fun with you. Cruel, as he was so desperate to get you underneath him- nearly ripping your clothes off in the process and now is when he decides to take his time?

"Logan.." You whined, your hand tugging at his hair.

"Patience." He mumbles against your core, burying his lips and nose into your folds and taking a deep inhale, letting out a satisfied groan.

You watched the sight, and listened to his groans- and for some reason it seemed so funny to you- as a dirty as it was. You began to snicker, covering your mouth to try to hide the sounds your mirth.

He took another deep breath, seemingly loss in your essence, until sounds of your quiet giggles reached his ears. Opening his eyes, face still buried in your, he glanced up at you. He finally removed himself for your core, his beard coated with your arousal.

"What's so funny bub?"

"You-!" You start giggling some more. "You're smelling me like I'm some kinda of fresh baked pie-!"

It's not that first time he's done that. It's actually always spurred you on more, the way he seems to get off from your scent. This time though, the heavy grunts he let out- you just couldn't take it seriously.

"Might as well be." You noticed a quirk of his lips and you laugh more. He presses a few kisses to your thigh, and along your pelvic, letting you get your giggles out before he continued.

He buries himself in you again, going to work as his tongue invaded every inch of your core. Swirling nonsensical shapes against your clit, dipping deep into your hole and lapping you up. He wraps his lips around your bud, sucking and releasing with a pop. Your thighs trembled around his head, as your back arched off the mattress. You graced his ears with your sweet moans of his name, begging him to keep going, don't stop.

You reached your peak when he buried two fingers inside you, curling and thrusting them in and out, just the way you like it- the way that has you drenching the sheets - and his face. You're calling out his name, begging him for nothing in particular as your finish shook through your body,

"loganloganloganlogan!"

He drinks every drop, sucking and swallowing your release. His fingers buried into the skin of your thighs, pushing them around his head because he wants to squeeze around him tight as possible - he's got a thick skull, he can take it.

You body goes lax, occasional shivers running through as he finishes savoring your release- too far gone in your pleasure to push him away as overstimulation sets in.

"Baby-" You finally push at his head, and he gives in- only this time, because his cock is throbbing painfully and he needs to be buried in you right now.

He steps back away from the bed, watching your limp body move lazily over the mattress, your pretty tits with your nips, perky in the air; spread thighs, exposing your puffy, glistening pussy. Waiting, inviting him to spear you open.

His hands couldn't move fast enough. Nearly shredding his shirt apart, his claws pricked the skin of his hand as frustration bubbled inside him- not moving fast enough.

He's unbuckling his belt, then unzipping his pants, pulling that along with his briefs and letting them fall to his ankle. He hissed at the feeling of the cool air wrapping around his cock, heavy and throbbing. Pre-cum has stained his briefs- probably never going to get that out.

Not that it matter, he has plenty of boxers. You have this thing about getting him every kind of graphic design boxers you find. He has briefs with nearly every logo of sodas, cartoon characters, patterns, and random shit like Poptarts or, hell, he's got a pair with the words Juicy along the ass.

Why the hell you enjoy it so much, he doesn't know but he wears them for your entertainment anyway.

He fists his cock, gritting his teeth at the relief that he felt as he strokes himself a few times. He's focused on you- the need to fuck you, fill you up, make you scream his name over and over. it boils over and he's ready.

Forgetting his jeans still wrapped around his ankles, he takes too large of a step- and trips.

"Shit-!" He grunts, falling to his knees, hitting his head on the mattress and down onto the metal frame of the bed- a bonk! noise heard echoed in the room. You pushed yourself up, having witnessed the whole thing- and erupt into laughter.

"Are you okay?!" You reached a hand out to his head- while the mark that was likely made from the fall had already healed over, your hand stilled soothed over the mark, brushing his hair back lovingly. Logan looked up at you- and you tried to cease your giggles, only he began to laugh too.

Deep and warm, he shook his head, palming his hand over his face and running it down.

"I don't know what the hell just happened-" He continued chuckling warmly, as he looked up at you with bright eyes and a big smile.

"Did you hear that noise?!" You tittered, joining him in his giggles.

"Perks of having a metal skull I guess."

You shook your head, watching him fall back onto his ass, setting his legs in front of him and shoving his jeans off with an annoyed shaking of his head- but he was still laughing. You climbed off the bed, joining him on the floor on his lap.

"I told you to slow down baby." You teased, curling your hands into his hair, resting your forehead against his, your nose clumsily bumping over his. His hands came to hold your hips, pulling you closer until you were seated over his girth.

"You're fault." He mutters.

"Uh!" You gasped. "How?"

"Being too damn irresistible." He grumbles against your lips, smooching you and not letting you go until you start to laugh again. His mirth came back, warming you inside listening to his laugh. He acts so serious sometimes, and you wonder if he'd ever loosen up.

You began grinding over him, pressing small kisses over his face. He closed his eyes. His arms wrapped around you, supporting your motions over him, a smile stretching across his face, relaxing into something a bit different on him, pure bliss.

You sit up, reaching your hand down, and lowering yourself carefully over him, capturing him in a kiss. He lets out a moan, relief in finally feeling your walls wrapped around him. Your hands cupped his face, as you rest your forehead on his.

You began moving over him, pleasure enveloping both of you. Until you remember the sound his head made again- and giggles escaping you quietly.

"Mmph,it's still funny, huh love?" He mumbles.

"Yes, sorry!" You laugh shaking your head, still riding him. You expected him to say something pissy, but he only joined you in your mirth. The feeling of your lover laughing with you during something so intimate sent nothing but warmth and happiness through you.

"It was pretty funny." He mutters again.

[juletheghoul]

father figure IV

a/n: I know we’re all in our Joel feels, but Clint has me by the throat so 🤷🏻‍♀️ Hope you guys enjoy the drama! 💕xoxo

Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, Clint's POV, shitty dad (neglect), absent mother (abandonment issues), allusions to illegal activity, domestic violence (Clint's knuckles getting a pretty gnarly infection--medical talk), allusions to the daddy kink, not so secret relationship, **angst** Hurt/comfort, period piece - takes place in 1987, let me know if I missed any!

Pairing: Clint Flood x F!Reader

Ko-fi link 🥲💕

word count: 4.7k

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist series Masterlist

---

He’s really fucked it up this time. 

His hand aches, sharp and deep–that shithead's tooth had broken off in his knuckle. Serves him right for speaking to her like that. Clint shakes his head, angry all over again only this time it’s coloured with shame. A bone-deep embarrassment that he’d let his anger get the better of him. The fear in her face is burned into his retinas. He sees it every time he blinks, hears her choking sobs as she pushed him out her door. 

His apartment is quiet, too quiet. His ears ring with the finality of it.

Louis meows as he moves towards the bathroom, the motion of grabbing his first aid kit from under the sink is practiced, too practiced but it is what it is. It’s not the first time he’s had to patch himself up. He fucking hates that he knows it won’t be the last. 

He wishes she was here, he wishes so badly that she was the one tending to him, gently washing his hand with that pretty smile on her face. He sighs again, how could he be so fucking stupid?

He bites his cheek, the sting is nothing new but it still fucking hurts. He curses loudly when he finally gets it out, the broken chunk of tooth falls into the sink, goes down the drain in a swirl of red. He wonders idly what she’s thinking at that very moment, how angry and hurt and disgusted… how terrified she must be of him. The shame burns through him much hotter than the anger. 

The shower steams while he strips, he does his best to keep his hand out of the spray, and his mind off of her skin but he fails at both. There’s none of that softness that overflows in him for her left for himself. He scrubs himself raw, replays the incident over and over again and the frustration almost makes him laugh. How quickly it all went to shit, how quickly he ruined his chances with her, and if by some miracle he hadn’t–it's clear to him that this whole thing was a mistake. 

He settles into his bed, hand bandaged and aching but the pain falls short compared to the stab of regret at smelling her within his sheets. 

He dreams about her, and when he wakes with the taste of her still fresh on his tongue, he doesn’t know if it’s better, or worse.

-

He picks up the phone at least a dozen times before noon. It’s a compulsion, her phone number itching in the tip of his finger, begging to be dialed but he stops himself. He shouldn’t call. He should just cut his losses, hope he didn’t do any long term damage to her confidence. 

He barely tastes the food he made, barely feels the wind whipping around his balcony while he smokes. The ache in his bruised, swollen knuckles makes him wince whenever he flexes but it’s become a grounding point, self-flagellation. His mother would laugh at that—she’d been Catholic while she was alive. He wishes they could have met. 

He shakes his head, crushes out the cigarette, crushes out that train of thought and heads back in to stew some more. 

Louis knows there’s something wrong, his meows sound almost comforting, his purrs seem extra loud. The cat plops onto his lap, a rare yet welcome occurrence. 

“I know buddy, I miss her too.” 

-

The phone rings on the third day out, he rushes out of the shower but doesn’t make it in time. Her voice comes through and it freezes the air in his lungs like a snowstorm.

“Clint? Clint what is happening? I expected you to be here, I expected to see you waiting for me after my shift, or call me or I don’t know, show up and talk to me about this? Aren’t you going to apologize? My dads fine by the way—not that you’ve bothered to ask about that either, and spare me the rationale behind this whole thing, I’m not expecting you to apologize to him but I was expecting my boyfriend to be here, to maybe not leave me stuck with paying for the ER visit. Call me, come see me, anything, and give Louis some love for me. Bye.”

There’s a bruise in his chest, something in his bones at the sound of her voice. There’s an anger there that he cannot blame her for, competing with disappointment. He wanted to go, but it wasn’t a good idea. He knew this, or at least, he kept trying to remind himself. It was doomed from the start, he wasn’t the one for her. She would move on, she would find someone closer to her age, someone appropriate. The thought of some young dumbass all over her makes his skin crawl. 

He flexes his knuckles, focuses on the pain, leaves the phone on the hook and goes to get dressed. 

The phone rings again a few hours later, this time he lets the machine get it on purpose. 

“Clint—This isn’t funny anymore. What is happening? Can you please just call me back? I’m getting really annoyed now—I’m about to leave for my shift, I finish at nine-thirty, can you please pick me up so we can talk about this? Bye.” 

He sighs, flexing his hand again. It’s going to scar with the way he keeps breaking the skin open but it helps. It takes the hand of god for him not to rush over to the video store, to catch her before she walks in and beg her to forgive him. Deep down he knows he won’t though. He has to let her go, let her forget him.

His skin prickles with a nervous edge as the evening progresses, makes him pace and smoke and eventually he can’t take it anymore. With an angry grunt he storms out, gets on his bike and rides way too fast. It helps with the adrenaline, but it fucks up his knuckles even more. The skin of his hand is red and he knows he should have someone take a look. 

By the time he gets home his whole body hurts, the tightness in his muscles, the pain of the injury,

The machine is beeping and he already knows. The time on his watch says 11:21pm.

“So it all bullshit then. Everything you said to me, about your feelings, about wanting me in your life. Partner, boyfriend…none of it was real…are you in the fucking hospital? Are you okay? Why are you ignoring me? How could you be so sweet, and then pretend I don’t exist? I cannot be invisible to you, Clint, please—please talk to me.”

Her words cut him deeper than her dads tooth, deeper than the knife that had scarred his face. He should eat, but he can’t. He feeds the cat, turns off the lights and gets into bed. 

-

The phone rings again a couple of days later, and the temptation is almost irresistible. He can hear the tears, hear the heartache he’s caused with his actions, with his silence. He hates himself. 

Her anger has swelled, fed and watered by her tears, by his abandonment of her. She asks what she did wrong, she asks why he won’t speak to her, if he’d even deign to answer the door if she came to his apartment and he wonders what he’d do if it came to that. Could he stand to hear the buzzing and do nothing? He hopes she won’t test him like that. He hopes she will. 

He disconnects the phone, he unplugs his answering machine. He sits with the silence, sits in his own cowardice while his knuckles get worse. He focuses on reorganizing his things, curses to himself when he finds the tapes he hasn’t returned. The girl on the cover–her doppelganger stares at him, the smile that had caught his attention because of their resemblance was now a taunt, accusatory and angry. He cannot return them now, she might be there. 

Thursday, he thinks. He’ll go on her day off, stop by the clinic on the way to get his hand checked out, pick up some meds and look for work. 

-

Thursday comes, and the clinic is rammed. There’s a mother rocking a sick child, an older couple sitting together. There are a few teenage girls all huddled together, he can vaguely hear them rehearsing their lines, how to ask for birth control, how to ask to get tested without raising the alarm. 

Clint remembers his introduction to puberty. It hadn’t been a slow bloom for him, it hadn’t been gentle, nothing in his life had. It had been violent, splinters in his bones and fitful sleep, beatings from his dad from how much he’d needed to eat. The hunger had gotten him in so much trouble, and had cost his mother more than money. 

“Clint Flood–” The nurse calls him, and he rises, leaves the painful memories behind and follows her into the examination room. 

“Doctor will be with you shortly.” He nods at her, sits in silence when she closes the door behind her. Diplomas line the walls, certificates too. Alongside those same boring watercolours and inspirational posters that seem to live in every doctor's office. There’s a comfort in getting lost in that landscape, safe, quiet, empty. 

It startles Clint a bit when the doctor opens the door with what he knows is his chart clutched in the man's hands. He can only imagine the laundry list of injuries in there. 

“What seems to be the problem Mr. Flood?” The doctor sits, smiling benignly. 

“My hand–” He pulls the bandage away, hissing at the pain. The gasp the doctor lets out doesn’t inspire confidence. 

“May I?” Competent, yet delicate hands reach for him and he nods. The doctor frowns, reaches for the glasses in his shirt pocket to see the injury clearer. 

“This looks nasty, I’m imagining it hurts very much.” 

“You aren’t kidding.” Clint huffs out a breath, clenching his jaw while the man squeezes his hand a tad. 

“Can you tell me what happened? Is this an animal bite?” 

“No, it was… an altercation. I pulled a piece of tooth out of it a few days ago.” The doctor's eyebrows raise into his receding hairline. 

“A human mouth did this?” He lets it go, moving back to grab some gloves as well as a syringe and a vial from a cabinet. 

“Yes. I got into a fight.” 

“I am terrified to imagine what the other guy looks like. Well, the human mouth is a nasty cesspit. Not surprised at how infected it is. I do wish you would have come in sooner, could have avoided this.” He fills the syringe with a clear fluid. 

“Is it really bad?” Clint knows it is, the shooting pains, the swollen, purple-red skin tells him it is. 

“It’s not good. I’m going to give you a shot, and then start you on a course of pretty aggressive antibiotics. Just to clear it all up. Luckily it looks like it didn’t hit a bone or a nerve or it would be really bad.” He gives Clint no warning, and injects a few different points of his hand. He grits his teeth because it fucking sucks. 

“Okay, that should help with the swelling and the pain, and then I’m going to prescribe some pills, please don’t skip any doses, and come back if it gets worse. If you see the skin turning black, or the redness spreading then go straight to the hospital.” The used needle goes into the yellow sharps container, his hand gets flushed with some saline, and then a fresh bandage wraps the whole thing up. 

“There we go, all taken care of. I’ll give you some more gauze–”

“I have some at home, got a first aid kit.” Clint rises, the doctor nods. With a quick unreadable scribble he’s free to go with his prescription. 

-

The video store is empty of customers, but his stomach drops when their eyes lock. She looks upset, she looks like she hasn’t slept, she looks like she hasn’t stopped crying and instantly his heart cracks in half at how her eyes water. 

“I’m sorry–” He tries to back away, but her eyes harden and he’s stuck in his spot.

“You’re sorry?” 

He takes a slight step back, cowering under her gaze. 

“So you thought to come and return your fucking tapes when you thought I’d be off? Is that it? Are you such a fucking coward Clint?” She isn’t yelling but he almost wishes she was. Her every word is an icicle, and it’s so much worse. 

“No, I–I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. It’s better this way.” He clenches his jaw, flexes his hand and winces. 

“Better? For who?” She scoffs, fire blazing in her expression–he sees her on that first night, that same anger she’d directed at her father for the heat having been shut off. Even now, with her ire so accurately directed at him, he cannot help but want her. He cannot help his need to comfort and protect her, even if that meant from himself.

Her boss clears his throat, they’re causing a scene for the couple of customers milling about the place. 

She catches him off guard when she pulls him by the sleeve. He is helpless, a lamb being led away for slaughter. He sighs to himself when she shoves him into the backroom. 

“What the fuck is your problem? What did I do wrong?” She still doesn’t scream. 

“Nothing! You did nothing.” He takes a deep breath, lets out a deep sigh. 

“I’m the one who ruined this. I forgot myself, I forgot that I’m not the man for you, I’m a mess and angry and violent and you don’t deserve that–”

“Oh please, I know exactly who you are and I’m not afraid of you.” She crosses her arms, annoyed scowl firmly in place. 

“I scared you the other night, I could have killed your dad–probably would have if you hadn’t pulled me away.”

“I’m not happy you did that, at least; I shouldn’t be because despite him being a piece of shit, despite him deserving it I don’t want anyone to get hurt. That being said, what I deserve is for you to fucking face me like a man.” 

He closes his eyes, focuses on his breathing and repeats all the reasons he’s come up with for why he should end things now. She sighs, he can see the mental cogs turning, that tentative reign she has on her patience.

“What I deserve is for you to let me make the choice of whether I want you in my life or not. What I deserve is an apology and some grovelling. I want the person I care about back. Where’s he?”

She searches his face for a glimpse of who he’s been with her and he’s there, on the surface, it’s in him to beg for her forgiveness but he has to think about the consequences. Her age, his past, his damage.

“You deserve better—“ He tries to soften himself, make her understand but she lets out an angry, guttural sound.

“Stop that! I’m not a fucking child! Just because I call you daddy when you fuck me doesn’t mean you get to make decisions for me. It doesn’t mean you know better.” It burns clean through him, that authority she’s trusted him with, all of the intimacy she’s given him, the trust; his resolve crumbles for a moment.

“Clint, why did you say all those things? Why did you want me only to throw me away? Please don’t do this—please don’t leave me behind.” Her eyes shine now, fat, shiny tears collect in her lashes, she blinks them away and they fall down her pretty face. He’s cracking in two, his heart aches, words fail him.

“Apologize, beg me to come back. I’ll do it, I’ll follow you—I just need to know you’re sorry, that you want me—“ She moves towards him and it’s an agony not to gather her up in his arms. Her delicate fingers touch his face, cup his cheeks, trace the scar. He wants to talk some sense into her. He wants to take her home and fuck her raw. He wants to cry into the soft skin of her neck. 

“What if you hate me for it?” He asks her. He’s terrified to know, he’s dying to know.

“I know who you are, I know what you’ve done, let me make the decision.”

He sighs, presses his forehead against her shoulder for a moment, breathes in the ghost of the smell that’s faded from his sheets.

—

The early shift is done a few hours after the confrontation, and for a moment you’re afraid he’s disappeared again but he’s there; parked right in front of the store, eyes already on you. You almost smile, the joy of him being there is almost enough to forgive the glaring absence of him. Almost.

He’s out and opening the door for you before you’ve made it to the car, you do smile then. A hot, sweet coffee is pressed into your hands, a small wordless apology. It’s not enough, you know it, he knows it, but it’s definitely a start. 

“Where are we going?” 

“To my place. I made dinner.” Tentatively, he takes your hand in his bandaged one. You’d noticed it back at the store, but you were too mad to ask him about it then. 

“Is it bad? Your hand?” You touch the thick gauze, devastated to imagine that he might be hurting.

“No.” He frowns, a lie.

“Tell me the truth.” He looks over at you for a moment when you stop at a red light. 

“Yes, the doctor patched me up though.” He kisses your hand, and you want to cry. It feels like you’ve been apart for months, it feels like he’s shut you out of so much. The hospital had been so fucking busy on that night, and you’d had to take your father alone, you’d had to listen to his bullshit for hours. He should have been there with you, he should have turned right around and come back, helped and taken you away. 

You say nothing, but let him hold your hand anyway. There’s a tension that fills the car, building, swelling, heightening your anger and your hurt and your grief–grief? It is grief isn’t it? Mourning the death of something. Maybe not an actual death, but for a week he’d let you think what you had together–what you have together–had died. Being stuck in that house with your dad, being stuck in that suffocating silence, that colossal loneliness had been almost too much to bear.

The elevator ride up to his apartment is tense, everything is. 

Louis chirps happily when you walk in, winding through your legs, pawing at them to be picked up. His purrs are so loud, so soothing. 

“You want to eat now? Or in a little bit?” Clint takes your things, hangs them up while you reacquaint yourself with Louis.

“After.” You walk past him, settle onto the couch and cuddle the cat for a few more minutes, until he gets tired of it and jumps out of your lap. 

It’s so hard not to crawl onto Clint's lap when he sits beside you. It’s so fucking difficult not to just break down and cry into his neck, beg him never to leave you again but you cannot do that, you cannot bypass this whole thing. He runs his uninjured hand through his hair, fidgets with his bandage before finally looking you square in the eye. 

“I’m sorry.” He lets it out like a breath he’s been holding. You let him continue.

“I lost control of myself, I got so fucking mad that he said those things to you, that he thought it was his right to hurt you like that.” His head dips, elbows resting on his knees. 

“I know you know what I do, what I am…but I also know you definitely didn’t sign up for that and I’m sorry but I need you to know that I would never hurt you.” You frown, but he shakes his head, continuing on. “Baby, you have to believe me, I would never hurt you. I have never hit a woman in my life, I have never–would never do anything like that.”  

You scoff. He doesn’t even know why you’re angry, he doesn’t even realize what he’s done.

“I know that.” You sigh, eyes flitting around his apartment. Annoyingly, the peace is still there, it’s still infused throughout every inch of the place. Clint shakes his head, continues on.

“I saw the look on your face. I saw how scared you were, I saw the tears. I can’t imagine what you thought about me in that moment.” He clenches his eyes, no doubt reliving the moment, no doubt seeing the expression you’d worn. 

“Yes, you saw it, but you clearly have no idea what I was thinking, and you clearly didn’t listen to any of my messages. You imagined that I saw you give my asshole dad a beat down he deserved and that I automatically thought you’d turn around and knock my tooth out next.” The tone is much more cruel than you mean it to be. 

“I did listen, how much I hurt you–”

“You heard me asking for you to speak to me, to not leave me behind. Clint I’m not angry that you punched my dad, I’m angry that you fucking abandoned me.” The tears are there again but you blink them away. 

“All my life I’ve been abandoned. My mom didn’t want me, my dad doesn’t give a shit about me unless I’m making money and–” your voice breaks and you stop, take a deep breath, gather your thoughts under his gaze, “and right after telling me that you want me in your life, that you’re my partner or boyfriend or whatever the fuck, you left me high and dry.” His eyes widen and you know he gets it.

“I like you Clint, I love being with you, I love how you make me feel and how you treat me but I can’t live in fear that you’ll leave me too.” The tears fall for real now, all that silence, all those unanswered phone calls, that glaring absence of him waiting for you after a shift, the uncertainty catches up. 

He pulls you to him and you fall apart. That smell you’ve fucking ached for in the crook of his neck makes you cry even harder. 

“I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry.” His arms wrap around you so tight you can barely breathe but it feels like warmth after a blizzard, like a blazing fire in a frozen wasteland. “I want you with me, I want you here–move in with me.” He presses kisses to your tear-stained face, the suggestion pulls a laugh out of you. A watery smile, blubbering laughter.

“I’m serious, come and live here with me.” You can see the sincerity in his expression, his eyes water a bit too. You smile, trace the scar and don’t respond. Your thumbs caress his cheeks, one hand moves to comb his hair back. 

“It was torture not to pick the phone when you called, it was torture not to go and see you at the store.” He presses his face into your neck, breathes you in deep. “Forgive me.”

You don’t say anything, there’s nothing to say. You already know he means it, you already know there’s no way you’re saying goodbye.

You pull his face up and press your lips to his, soft and sweet.

-

Dinner is good, but you can’t eat much. All of the stress has put a huge weight in your stomach and despite feeling a bit lighter, it’s difficult to just let it go.

He doesn't eat much either. The both of you just sort of dance around each other, tidying up and putting most of the food away. You wash dishes despite his objections, you suspect his injured hand is the only reason he lets you continue. 

The TV plays once the kitchen is spotless and the silence turns into a tight embrace on the sofa. You soak in the shape of one another, relearn his skin, like braille. Silent, comfortable, slow. His kisses are full of apologies, the purest form of begging, and it doesn’t end, until eventually you have to leave. Tomorrow's shift is early, and you have none of your things. 

He doesn’t argue, simply grabs his keys and together you walk to his car. 

Your dad scoffs when you walk through the door, but it’s tempered with a healthy, valid fear of the man that walks behind you. You almost want to laugh at how pathetic he looks. His face is still swollen and his front tooth is cracked in half. There’s a freedom in what little respect you have for him now, he’s never been the father you deserve, and he’s taken every single opportunity to prove to you that he never will be. 

“Got a lot of nerve coming into my house again.” Your dad speaks directly to Clint, who only sighs in his direction. 

“Enough, dad. He’s leaving now.” You hang your purse, roll your eyes. 

“No, you’re leaving now.” He raises his voice, “I’ll not accept some–” Clint raises his eyebrows, almost daring your dad to continue but he rethinks things, takes a deep breath. 

“You’re an adult, go live your life. Not in my house.” He crosses his arms, a petulant, ungrateful child. You want to argue with him, you want to remind him just how much of your money has gone into his house. How you paid the mortgage with your savings for almost six months when he lost his job. How you used the last little bit when he fucked around last year, how you’re the one who usually keeps the fridge stocked and the house clean. 

“Baby, let’s go pack your things.” Clint's hand lands softly onto your shoulder, and all at once all of the fight goes out of you. There is no point in arguing. With a tired, defeated sigh you let him lead you up the stairs. 

Silently, you pull your big suitcase out from under your bed and begin to empty your drawers. Clint opens your closet, asks softly what you’d like to take with you. The suitcase fills up, your duffel too. A plastic bin is filled with everything you can fit from your bathroom. The books, the movies, everything that isn’t essential will have to stay behind until you can come back. 

Clint grabs your bin in one hand, rolls your suitcase behind him and tosses your duffel over his shoulder. He ignores your attempts to help and tells you to grab whatever else you need. An old teddy bear, your favourite pillow and your walkman make their way down in your arms. 

You grab your jacket, your purse, and the sweatshirt hanging on the back of the sofa. 

Your dad mumbles something about cleaning out the room but Clint is there, stepping close enough that you can see sweat beading on your dads face. 

“We’ll be back to empty the rest of her things tomorrow night. God help you if you touch a single fucking thing in that room. You understand me?” His voice is soft, almost bedroom-low. It sends a shiver up your spine. He turns after making his point, and guides you softly, but firmly out the door. 

-

He puts your things in his bedroom, and instantly goes to work clearing space for you in his closet. There’s a numbness in your movements, a finality to the whole thing. The rollercoaster has finally stopped, but your stomach is teetering between relief and a debilitating nausea. 

You hang your things in the space he’s made, separate your clothes into different piles, smile when he clears out a few drawers in his dresser. 

“We’ll get another one this week, one just for you. We can get some shelves for your books, and whatever else you want to make it feel more like home.” He sits on the bed, pulls the rest of your things out of the suitcase to fold and organize. You smile, but stay quiet. It’s too much for one day, all catching up at once, you’re exhausted. He sees right through it. 

“Baby, I’m sorry.” He pulls you into his orbit, presses his face into your belly. Your hands thread through his hair. 

“I know.” 

---

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[paucubarsisimp]

Can you write for Phil Foden or Lando Norris (or Oscar Piastri), in fact the one you prefer. An imagine in which the reader is insecure about her small chest? If you're not comfortable with that, there's no problem (I'm specifying just in case, I'm not asking for anything smut)

Thank you if you do it and Good Luck for your exam 💕

more than enough

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

summary: in which you’re insecure about your small chest

warnings: none

tagged: @madwolia, @barcapix, @universefcb, lmk if you want to be added to the taglist!

a/n: js a reminder that you’re all gorgeous 💋

the hotel room in monaco was quiet, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning and the distant noise of the city winding down for the night. oscar had barely put down his phone, but you were lost in your thoughts, the exhaustion from the race weekend settling into your bones. it was supposed to be a time to unwind, yet you couldn’t shake the discomfort crawling under your skin.

you sat on the edge of the bed, wrapped up in a blanket, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. your mind kept drifting back to the same nagging thought that had been consuming you for days—the one that always seemed to appear when you were around oscar’s world. your chest.

you had picked out a cute outfit earlier that day, one that usually made you feel confident, but now, in the dimly lit hotel room, you just felt small. flat. compared to the women you’d seen today—confident, busty, with curves that seemed to demand attention. you couldn’t help but feel invisible, like you were fading into the background.

oscar looked up from his phone, his gaze flickering to you with a soft frown. he had that look on his face—the one that meant he’d noticed you’d gone quiet, withdrawn, something bothering you. he set his phone down with a sigh, his eyes never leaving yours.

“hey,” he said, his voice low and soothing, “what’s going on? you’ve been zoning out all evening.”

you didn’t want to talk about it. not now, not here. you wanted to bury it deep and forget. but oscar’s quiet concern always had a way of drawing things out of you, no matter how hard you tried to hold them in. you shrugged, not meeting his eyes, your fingers nervously tugging at the fabric of your shirt again.

“it’s nothing,” you muttered, but your voice gave you away. “just… i don’t know. i feel stupid. insecure. i guess i’m being ridiculous.”

oscar was immediately at your side, his body close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. he gently placed his hand on your knee, leaning in slightly so you couldn’t avoid him.

“you’re not stupid,” he said softly, his voice rich with understanding. “but you’re not fooling me. something’s on your mind, love.”

you hesitated for a moment before you finally whispered, “it’s my chest. it’s… too small. i don’t know. i just feel… less.”

there was a beat of silence, and you could feel oscar’s gaze on you, the way he processed your words. his hand slid from your knee to your own, fingers brushing over your skin, offering comfort, but also a kind of heat that made your heart race for a different reason.

“what do you mean, ‘less’?” oscar asked, his voice low, but not unkind. “you’re anything but that. your body… it’s perfect.”

you shook your head, biting your lip in frustration, still not meeting his eyes. “but i’m not like the other women you’re around. they have… curves, you know? the kind of bodies that turn heads. i don’t even fill out a top properly.”

oscar’s hand moved up to your chin, gently tilting your face to meet his gaze. his thumb brushed over your lip softly, the touch sending a spark through you that only made the nerves grow worse.

“i can’t believe you think that,” he said, his voice quiet, yet full of something deeper—something raw. “it’s not about curves, sweetheart. it’s about you. i’ve never looked at anyone else the way i look at you.”

you felt a flush creep up your neck, but oscar didn’t let you look away. he took a breath, leaning in just a little closer, his face inches from yours. “you think i don’t notice how you make my heart race when you walk into a room?” he murmured, his lips just brushing against yours as he spoke. “or how i can’t stop thinking about the way you laugh… or the way your skin feels when i touch you?”

you swallowed hard, your pulse quickening. you hadn’t expected this, the heat building between you so suddenly, and it made the insecurities feel… different. not gone, but quieter. less significant.

“but i’m nothing like—”

oscar cut you off with a kiss, soft and gentle at first, his lips brushing over yours with a tenderness that made you forget everything else. when he pulled back, his eyes were dark, filled with something unspoken, something that made you feel desired in a way you hadn’t expected.

“sweetheart,” he breathed, his hand slipping to your waist, pulling you closer. “i’m not talking about anyone else. you are what makes me crazy. the way you feel in my arms, the way you look when you’re thinking too hard about something. i don’t care about anything else. it’s you who’s always on my mind.”

you were close now, close enough to feel the warmth of his body against yours, his hand sliding up your back to the nape of your neck. your breath caught in your throat as he leaned in again, his lips grazing your ear, his voice a whisper that sent shivers down your spine.

“your chest is perfect, just like the rest of you,” oscar murmured, his voice thick with desire. “i don’t need anything more. i just need you. you’ve always been more than enough.”

you shivered as his words sank in, the way his lips brushed your skin, sending a heat through you that made you forget all about the insecurities you’d been carrying around. oscar pulled back slightly, looking at you with a smirk that was both reassuring and a little daring.

“you’re so damn beautiful, it drives me insane,” he said, his hand resting on your side, his fingers grazing lightly against your skin. “and i’m gonna make sure you know it, every single day.”

the intensity of his gaze, the heat between you, made you feel a little dizzy, but in a way that felt right. it was like the self-doubt had melted away under his touch, his words, the way he made you feel like the most important person in the world.

“oscar…” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper. “are you sure? i mean… i’m really not—”

he silenced you with another kiss, this one deeper, more urgent, as if he couldn’t wait another second to prove how much he meant it. his hands roamed down your back, pulling you closer, making you feel seen. wanted.

“i’m sure,” he said, his lips still against yours, his voice rough with sincerity. “you’re more than enough. always have been.”

the moment hung between you, both of you breathless, and you couldn’t help but believe him. maybe you didn’t need to be like everyone else. maybe, just maybe, this—you—was enough.

[bunny-jpeg]

Hi bunny!! Got a Halloween special request here!!

May I have a chex-mix and mummy hand pies with a side of haunted lemonade and white claw served by Franco Colapinto, please?💕💕

halloween bakery - bakery menu

the spooky menu is still up till nov 2nd! there are tons of spooky prompts for you to choose from! thank you to those who have submitted, i'll be working on them ASAP in the lead up to halloween!! thank you and i hope you love this! i'm surprised by how much people have loved my colapinto fics since i started posting them! so thank you <3

chex-mix: "did you go as a whore this year, or did you just forget a costume?" + mummy hand pies: "be careful of the full moon!" + haunted lemonade: size difference/kink + white claw: slutty costumes served by franco colapinto (formula one)!!

tags: smut/pwp, size difference/kink, slutty costumes, couples costumes (red riding hood & wolf),

franco waited for you to get ready for the halloween party you two were attending. the two of you were out in austin for the grand prix weekend and got roped into an early halloween party.

he leaned up against the wall near the bathroom and knocked on the door, "are you almost done, amor? did you get stuck in the costume?"

you laughed on the other side of the door, "you think so low of me, honey." you opened the door and franco caught sight of what you were wearing.

franco's eyes went wide at the sight of you. oh, there was no way you were leaving the hotel room like that.

"what happened to the other costume?" he asked as he held onto the doorway to the bathroom and leaned in towards you. he remembered it vividly, it was still a red riding hood costume, but it covered a fair bit, "did you want go as a whore this year, or did you just forget the costume?"

you replied, "it was too hot for austin, so while you were on the track. i went out and got something else. i mean, we still match." you didn't see the problem with it. as if you didn't look like you were doing a porn shoot in an hour.

he raised his eyebrows, "amor. c'mon." he gestured, "i was supposed to be the big bad wolf. the whole, 'be careful of the full moon, little red', and you were supposed to be a little more... covered up." he picked at a stray strand of thread for the costume. it wasn't even sewn right.

"it's fine, honey." you tried to move past him to get your heels on. but franco took you by the waist and pressed your backside up against him.

he bent up against you and kissed at an exposed part of your neck. he kept his arms around you tightly and said in a soft time, "you don't get it, my love. you look like a whore, and i hold you in higher regard than that. i don't want others getting the wrong idea about you." he rubbed the front of his jeans up against your backside.

"yet you're turned on by it." you remarked then moaned as he pressed further against you. you whimpered a little and he felt a shudder through him.

"of course, but i'm your boyfriend." he pressed you further to him. showing off his size and strength compared to you. he would've made a good big bad wolf if he wasn't so painfully hard for how scantily dressed you were.

"well, i have nothing else to wear." you remarked. and then a gasp left your lips when franco tore the skirt right at the seam.

he remarked, "you could've bought something a little more expensive." then let the fabric fall to the floor. he then snaked his hand between your legs and rubbed your slit over your panties.

you looked like a whore as he pleasured you and eventually he grabbed you to bring you to the bed. you ended up on it and he got everything else off of you. you tried to joke, "my what big teeth you have."

he grabbed you by the hips and bent you almost in half. you sticky slit on display for him. he replied, "i wouldn't be worried about my teeth, amor." then rubbed his barely clothed cock against your slit. your wetness stained the front of his dark blue briefs.

you swallowed, you knew franco was big. he had always been big compared to you. when you gave him your virginity, he spent an hour fingering you so he wouldn't bruise you. but tonight he knew that tonight he didn't care if he bruised up your insides.

he got his t-shirt off and his briefs, both of you were naked as franco kept you bent and your pussy on display for him. he felt a thrill of excitement run through him at the sight of you.

he sank his cock into you as he kept you in the mating press and you felt excitement run through you. your brain went numb for a moment as you felt the pleasure course through your body. it was hot, painfully hot. franco did things to you that you never thought anyone else could do. he drove you mad and made you hot all over.

"franco, fuck." you shifted a little bit. it was a bit of a painful position, your knees were to your chin as he fucked into you without much softness. he felt the zap of possessiveness through him.

he wasn't going to lat his beloved girlfriend dress like that for halloween. unless it was in the bedroom where no prying eyes could see. you could still dress nice for halloween, but you didn't need to show off almost every inch of skin.

"see, if you wanted to excite me. then you didn't have to buy a costume. i think the best thing you can wear for me is nothing. maybe my number on your back, but other than that. i want you in nothing. i want all your clothes on the floor while i fuck you. you're mine, amor. all mine."

his words excited you, you knew that he turned you on greatly. and you did the same for him. even if you didn't know, the statement was made clear by how hard he fucked you.

in the lavish hotel room in austin, the high of a decent weekend followed by a party that you were now late for. he continued to thrust against you, he could feel his pounding heartbeat in your ears as he made a pretty mess of you sweet pussy. you wouldn't second guess how he felt about you by how he made you feel.

your larger boyfriend with his heavy cock made you feel like you were on cloud nine. for a brief moment you thought about not going to the party. you could stay in the hotel room and see how many times you could do it before you were simply too exhausted.

he held onto your hips as he continued to fuck you. the pace was feverish. he groaned, "you look perfect. better than in that costume." he pressed further into you and you felt excitement race through you. you felt hot all over and as did he.

franco excited you in sexual ways that you never thought were possible. he was the kind of lover that brought out parts of you never thought were possible. before you met, you never thought about filming yourself pleasuring yourself. but with the distance between you two for so long, he eventually had a vast collection of photos and videos.

everything from you pleasuring yourself with a toy, to showing off your nude body to him for the camera. and of course, softer, more tender moments. like you in his clothes and wearing the bracelet he gifted you when he signed to formula one.

currently that bracelet looked nice on your wrist while you held onto the white covers under you. franco groaned as he continued to fuck you with heavy thrusts. he felt just as excited as you did. he knew he wasn't going to last long.

"shit. franco." you groaned as you squirmed a little bit which only prompted franco to press further into you. have you in a proper press as his cock moved in and out of you with a feverish pace.

you were the first to cum, you clawed at the sheets. no proper words left you lips, but you did made a sweet moaning noise that sent shocks through franco as he continued to batter your sweet cunt. it was all so hot and it made the driver only fuck you harder. he didn't last long much after, he made sure every inch was inside of you as he finished inside of you with a heated groan.

his pace stopped and the you two looked at one another. franco dropped your hips and pulled one another into a heated kiss. hands traveled across each other's heated bodies.

"you're so fucking hot." he groaned.

when he laid out next to you, he draped an arm across your chest and leaned in to kiss and suck at the nape of your neck. you knew he was decorating you with his marks. and that were was no concealer in the world that would cover the dark marks on your skin.

-

you both attended the party. you went last minute as a williams racing fan. which wasn't hard, you just raided franco's closet. the shirt was baggier on you and the sleeve of the t-shirt went to your elbows. the best detail of your costume was the massive hickey he left on you.

he simply said about the matter, "ah well, you'll just be a fan who got lucky tonight." <3

[hitlikehammers]

The One Where Wayne Munson KNOWS BETTER Than to Lend Air to IDLE GOSSIP

(and does it anyway on accident and ends up thinking his 💕boy's boy💕 might be ✖️stepping out) ——(1/3)

Wayne Munson’s lived his life mostly free from the hubbub of small town gossip. Some was unavoidable in his tiny holler as a boy; more was part and parcel to the service, and plain keeping half-sane in war—anything for a distraction. After all that though, Wayne’d had more’n his fill of even a teaspoon of hearsay, and compared to where he came from? Hawkins, Indiana was small potatoes for keepin’ his nose clear out of it.

Which is all to say he don’t mean to collect any of the latest scuttlebutt on his way just to town after he gets off his shift with the sun barely a glimmer, just past 5 for Leah’s to be open for a better cup-o-joe than the sludge he gets on the floor. All he wants is a hot nightcap because he knows damn well his boy didn’t pick up more grounds before Melvald’s closed last night, and Wayne doesn’t want to see his bed until he’s had a full mug of fair-to-middling coffee.

And honest: he don’t think that’s more than he’s earned to ask.

But it is more than he bargained for signing’ up to, when he sees the only other people in the diner at this hour on a Saturday.

Because the only other people are a girl he don’t know, though he can’t see her real well from the back, which only really means he sees her coffee date full-on and much too well in exchange because they’re leaned in and they’re being all touchy across the table, voices low but not too low—he don’t think they even noticed him come in, let alone come to wait close enough to hear ‘em while he insists on saving the lovely Leah herself the trip to a table when he can damn well carry his own drink, thanks kindly.

“You’re gonna have a coronary if you keep hiding this.”

The girl sounds…she sounds the way Wayne remembers his Mamaw sounding when she was about to hit his Grampy up the head over some harebrained such-and-such. Exasperated, but all from a deep well of unshakable loving.

Which is what perks up Wayne’s attention, and then churns his insides quick right-next, because—

Well. The boy this young lady’s being all over-fond at for his antics is Steve Harrington.

Who, for all that Wayne understands, is meant to be his boy’s boy.

“No, no,” Steve’s shaking his head, tone bowstring-taut; “I’m gonna tell him.” Kid sounds resolved for all of half-a-second before he’s groaning, running hands over his face: “Or, I mean—”

The thunk of the boy’s head to the tabletop clatters the cutlery, and if Wayne weren’t already clued into their conversation, he’d be wholly absolved for dropping eaves given how the noise echoes through the mostly-empty establishment bar-to-door.

“Dingus,” the girl says, and it drips with concern, with affection, with a deep choler that, again, sings loud of married-couple.

Which twists Wayne’s guts all the more to hear.

Because she’s talking to Wayne’s boy’s boy.

“I’m gonna, I promise,” Steve sounds not unlike a man on his way to the gallows, even more when he sighs deep as anything and traces out his lips with his fingers, hands shaky even out the corner of Wayne’s eye for a distance as he hisses low:

“Fuck.”

And Wayne, see, he don’t like borrowing trouble. He meant it about keeping his nose clean of the gossip and the hearsay. So he makes sure he reminds himself good in his own head that he don’t know the facts here, and jumpin’ to conclusions don’t do no favors to nobody.

It don’t do nothing for the way that what he does know, what he sees and hears with his own god-given senses in the now, don’t add up too kindly for the Harrington boy.

Not least because it seems to be adding up poor indeed for Wayne’s boy.

“Do you think he’ll—”

“Steve,” the girl’s voice goes softer, but also frantic almost, as Wayne sees her reach across the way and gather Steve’s hands with a familiarity to the motion that wouldn’t make sense unless…

Unless they’re something special to each other.

Wayne’s watched Eddie reach out for Steve that way. He’s watch Steve do the same. So it…it just don’t make sense—

“You’re shaking,” the girl says, all kinda pitiful, and Wayne’d seen it before, but now he chances a look again and: oh.

Boy’s a leaf in a cyclone.

“It’s a big deal,” Steve rasps out near under Wayne’s ability to hear it.

But he does hear it.

“You need to just lay it out,” the girl tells him, earnest now and more of that than any irritation, any frustration put-upon or otherwise; “be up front with him.”

And it ain’t fair, yet, even if all the signs are pointing that direction; but Wayne likes Steve. He doesn’t want to think the worst of him. And he doesn’t, really, in his heart, think Steve could do or be the worst, from all he’s learned and seen—Wayne’d had uncharitable thoughts about it he kid, before he knew better, based on hearsay which one more time, he don’t countenance as a rule, and he’d been taught better and quick from the second he saw Steve at his nephew’s bedside, and heard the only thing he’s proud and happy to have dropped in upon uninvited:

You nearly fucking died yourself dragging him out, Steve, what the hell—

That Henderson squirt, scolding Steve something fierce.

So Wayne reminds himself this boy loved his boy enough to risk himself to bring Eddie home. Before they were anything to one another. And Wayne knows damn well they’re both something to each other, now. It don’t make sense that Steve wants to…be up front about a notion with Eddie that could hurt.

But then: care can look a lot of different ways, and can change over time. Ain’t nobody to fault for that. And much as Wayne can’t quite believe the Steve he’s gotten to know these past many-months could swallow hurting his Eddie…

Wayne’s been proven incorrect about people more than enough in his life to know better than to think it’s impossible to be wrong about a man’s heart.

“Oh, I’m sure that’ll go over fucking fantastic,” Steve’s huffing, rolling his eyes—apparently he don’t want to be up front with the person they’re talking about. Wayne tries to remind himself that they’ve not flat out said it’s Eddie yet. Wayne shouldn’t go making assumptions.

“Why not?” the girl’s pressing him. “Be honest, with him,” then her tone does go a little judgemental; “you can’t honestly think he doesn’t suspect—”

“I really don’t think he does,” and it’s a strange thing, because no matter the words themselves, it don’t sound like Steve’s meaning to be deceitful about a thing. Kinda sounds a little like he’s mourning, like he’s just in a kind of pain. “If he did, then at least maybe I’d have some kind of,” he waves his hand in the air, looks frantic, at loose ends all around; “heads-up for where his head’s at.”

And they’re both quiet for a spell, and Wayne looks for Leah in the back, knew she was getting food ready and was happy to wait—for better or worse with the conversation he’s been privy to without permission unspooling at his side—but he’s starting to feel antsy for all that he’s hearing, and the way he can’t quite tamp down associating it all with Eddie, with touchy things Steve might have to tell Eddie—

“Tell him by the end of the weekend.”

And now: think he might have to tell, encouraged so damn strong and single-minded by his lady friend with her hand on his arm.

“That’s fucking tomorrow!”

“End,” she’s narrowing her eyes sharp enough Wayne notices more in the shift of the room than to see it head-on; “of,” and then she’s smacking Steve’s arm to emphasize hard enough it rings out; “the weekend.”

Then Wayne notices how her posture shifts, and she leans closer again, so much affection, and easy with it, and welcome for it, no doubt about it:

“I don’t like seeing you like this,” she says low and earnest; “especially not when the thing you’re like this about is,” and then her tone shifts to something bright, near-on hopeful, even:

“It’s such a good thing, Steve.”

“I mean,” Steve mumbles, kind of miserable really; “of course you think so.”

And Wayne don’t like where his head goes for things the girl who’s watching Steve with such soft eyes might think to be good, might think while she’s touching him so close and —

“He’ll,” and she huffs a touch before going all heartfelt again: “Eddie is going to—”

And the moment his plausible deniability about the subject of the discussion is gone, Wayne gives up waiting for his coffee at the counter and…retreats to the corner by the door, far as he can get from whatever’s said next. He’d leave, honest, but the truth of the matter’s this:

He can’t be expected in good faith to figure out how to bring any of this up with Ed if he don’t have no caffeine in him.

☕ 👀 ☕

✨ part ii >>>

For @thefreakandthehair, who requested 'Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.' at my HOBBIT-STYLE BIRTHDAY MONTH PROMPT FEST—and since this is almost a YEAR LATE, could I possibly offer it as a normal-amounts-of-late birthday gift, more than as an egregiously-and-unforgivably-late prompt fill for you?

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @askitwithflours @awkwardgravity1 @bookworm0690 @bumblebeecuttlefishes @captain--low @depressed-freak13 @dragoon-ze-great @dreamercec @dreamwatch @estrellami-1 @finntheehumaneater @goodolefashionedloverboi @grtwdsmwhr @hiei-harringtonmunson @hbyrde36 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @live-laugh-love-dietrich @mensch-anthropos-human @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notaqueenakhaleesi @pearynice @perseus-notjackson @pretend-theres-a-name-here @pukner @ravenfrog @sadisticaltarts @samsoble @sanctumdemunson @shrimply-a-menace @slashify @stealthysteveharrington @swimmingbirdrunningrock @theheadlessphilosopher @theintrovertedintrovert @themoonagainstmers @theohohmoment @tillystealeaves @tinyloonyteacups @tinyplanet95 @warlordess @wheneverfeasible @wordynerdygurl @wxrmland @yourmom-isgay @1-tehe-1

NOTE: it's important to me that you know that Wayne's accept belongs to nowhere, and is just the voice of someone I knew as a kid, who also sounded like a little of everywhere and then again nowhere. so if you think some turn of phrase doesn't fit what you think you're reading in terms of dialect? it's just that this way of stringing words together is—with intention—its own amalgam of places and times

divider credit here and here

[ashwhowrites]

Hi! Can I request reader and jealous Eddie because he heard that years ago she had crush on King Steve or Billy and that makes him insecure a little because she's his first girlfirend?

But please with fluffy ending and his also reader's first boyfriend

Thank you for your time 💕💕💕

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Crushing on Billy Hargrove

Eddie acted like he was confident in himself. He carried himself high and loved putting himself on a pedestal. He wasn't exactly an insecure person, but he liked people to believe he was never insecure.

And most times he wasn't. He had a girlfriend and she made him confident. She was head over heels for him and it was clear she found him insanely attractive. He didn't have any doubts about their relationship until they got a little high one night and spilled all their secrets.

Y/N had no idea that any of her confessions were messing with Eddie's head. She didn't think she said anything to make him worry.

Y/N was his first girlfriend so he had no idea what he was doing. And he was her first boyfriend so it put him at ease to know he didn't have someone to be compared to.

But then she confessed about an old crush of hers, Billy Hargrove. She said she thought he was attractive like every girl did, when he first moved to town. She had a thing for his long hair and bad-boy attitude. In a way, Eddie wasn't far off that, and that almost made it worse. They were somewhat alike and Billy was a whole other level that Eddie could never get on.

"When did you stop liking him?" Eddie asked, the weed doing nothing to settle his mind.

"The second he opened his mouth. Dude is such an asshole," Y/N laughed, inhaling the joint as she passed it over to him

"You've got a thing for dudes with long hair then?" Eddie asked, he couldn't help but feel a little jealous. Even if she wasn't interested in Billy anymore, he couldn't help but feel insecure.

She laughed and moved onto his lap. He ashed out the joint so he could wrap his arms around her.

"I guess? I never really thought I had a type. But I love your hair so much more," she smiled. She began to twirl pieces of his curls around her finger. She began to leave small kisses up and down his neck, but Eddie's mind was so clouded about Billy.

That night was weeks ago and now Eddie's stomach twisted whenever he looked in Billy's direction.

Y/N was a very attractive girl and it seemed now that she was off the market, boys were more interested than ever,

Including Billy

"While I do this, will you go get me a drink?" Y/N asked, she was leaning over the pool table racking up the balls.

"Absolutely," he said, leaning down to softly press his lips against hers. He headed over to the bar and ordered some drinks. The bar was busy and people were everywhere. It was a few minutes by the time he made it back to Y/N, and found out she wasn't alone.

He felt his hand grip the glass as he saw Billy in his tight jeans and half-unbuttoned shirt talking to his girlfriend. He wasn't sure what they were talking about and he didn't care. He walked right up to them and placed their drinks on the table. Then moving his arm to wrap around her waist.

She smiled at his arrival and slipped her hand in his back pocket.

"Hargrove, how can we help you?" Eddie asked

Billy smirked like he already knew his presence caused tension.

"Asking the pretty girl if she needs help with playing pool," Billy said, a flirty smile sent her way as he winked.

"I think I've got it covered, bud," Eddie hissed, removing his arm from her waist to step in front of her.

"You sure you're good enough to have that covered?" Billy asked, his eyes ranking Y/N up and down. It was clear he wasn't talking about the pool game.

Y/N shifted to hide behind Eddie.

"Pretty damn sure. Now leave us alone," Eddie said, his voice growing more annoyed the longer Billy stood there smiling.

"Alright, I know when I need to step back," he said. Tell her to give me a call when she wants someone a bit more experienced. I've never left anyone dissatisfied." Billy laughed as he stepped back to leave. He gave the couple a wink and a slight nod.

Eddie's control was lost in seconds. His body lunged forward as he took Billy to the bar's sticky floor.

"EDDIE!" Y/N screamed in shock. She had never seen Eddie get physical before and she blanked on what to do.

Eddie landed the first punch right across Billy's face, blood pouring from his nose instantly. Eddie gripped Billy's shirt and yanked him forward.

Billy laughed as he tasted the blood from his nose. A smirk on his face as he looked up at Eddie's pissed-off expression.

"That a boy, Munson. I didn't know she had a pussy worth fighting for,"

Eddie slammed Billy's head against the floor and yanked him right back up. The bar's security was already running to them but Eddie didn't move an inch. He leaned in real close, his voice low and deep.

"If you ever come near her again, I'll send your ass back to California in a body bag," Eddie released Billy's shirt and stood up as the security began to yell. He held his arms up to surrender.

"I'll walk myself out!" Eddie argued, and he softly grabbed Y/N's hand. His touch was far more delicate than it had been with Billy. Eddie looked down and kicked Billy in the stomach. Smiling as he groaned and began to curl in a ball.

"Now I'm done," Eddie announced. He held her hand as they left the bar and walked to their car. Y/N was still in shock, not saying a word as she tried to wrap her brain around what happened.

The car was silent as they got in, Eddie sighed as he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. He turned his head to look at her, a pout on his lips.

"I know. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lost my temper like that, it was completely-"

But he was cut off as her lips smashed on his. He moaned as she hungrily kissed his face off, her hands in his hair. He felt like he could barely keep up as he kissed her back.

"That was the hottest thing I've ever seen. You kicked Billy's ass!" She said in awe.

"Really?" Eddie asked he was even more shocked than she was

"Take me home and I'll show you," She said with a flirty smile

Eddie quickly shoved his key into the car and brought the engine to life.

"Yes ma'am,"

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlx @ineedmentalhelp123

[houseofthedragonn]

belong to you,

cregan stark x wife! reader

DEDICATION @zeanie @lady-dragon-rider @finemessiness 💕💕💕

SYNOPSIS after losing soldiers in a fierce battle against the greens—despite still winning—cregan is tense. and how his men look at you only exacerbates his frustration. so in his tent, he reminds everyone who you belong to…

WARNINGS smut, semi-public tent sex

“I belong to you, Lord Stark! Fucking hells, I’m only yours!” I screamed for all of his men outside to hear how hard Cregan took me inside his tent.

“Say it again… louder!” Stark ordered, relentlessly railing me, bent over the map on his war table shaking from the sheer force.

His hips snapping against mine with such strength I swore the table would break underneath us.

I knew my hipbones digging into the wood would be bruised. But it was nothing compared to how scathed and scarred he and his men were when they returned. After cleaning him up, I always comforted him. Which always ended in Cregan fucking me senseless. Either out of anger, from losing his men, despite still winning the battle. Or out of adrenaline, after the battle got Stark’s blood up and rushing.

In this case it was both, and the Wolf of the North took me like a wild, rabid dog.

“I’m yours, Cregan! No one else’s! Only yours, handsome…” I rambled, a drooling, panting mess on his desk as he plowed into me at a punishing pace.

I already came more times than I could count. But Cregan was in an unforgiving mood.

After the battle, his men’s were also lusting after me, in my dress with a deep plunging neckline that I wore for only Stark. Seeing how they stared made him livid. Dragging me back into our tent by the arm angry, after I ran out to greet him—happy he still lived—only mere moments after he won, his handsome face caked in blood, sweat, and dirt.

But he did not say a single word to me.

Other than commanding me to undress once he closed the tent’s drapes behind him. I did as my husband ordered only after I insisted he let me patch him up, my expert sewing skills aiding on the battlefield by giving stitches to all. But he was torn: he loved how I saved his men that I could, but hated how I had to give them the satisfaction of touching them to do so. Which was why my lover was so harsh in how hard he fucked me, making me scream for all to hear who I belonged to.

Needing to hear I was his and his alone. And I loved saying it.

“That’s right, gorgeous… you’re all mine! And I’m yours… no one else can make you feel this good, can they?” Cregan asked as he slumped over me, his muscles weighing me down, biting my shoulder as he rutted into me like an animal. “Answer me, pretty…”

“No! No one else can… only you! And your cock… fuck, you’re so big, Stark!” I screamed as I felt another orgasm building, my wet cunt clenching around every inch of him once more.

Cregan pulled my hair to crane my neck up and around to face him. Kissing my lips so hard they were swollen and starting to bruise like my hipbones hitting his desk over and over again.

“Good girl… are you going to come for me? Again? And let all my men hear how I make you feel, beautiful?” Stark snarled, his thrusts growing faster and harder, before his fingers circled my clit.

“Hells yes! Fuck… I want them all to hear! Only you can make me feel this good!” I cried, feeling tears prick at my eyes from how overstimulated I was from all the pleasure and pain.

Cregan’s cock moving in and out of my gushing cunt.

“Then let go, my love… and I’ll fill you up again… and again…” Stark sighed, panting as he fucked me sloppily, on the edge of his own release again.

“Oh, Stark! Fucking hells, I belong to you! Only you!” I cried, coming around his cock again, grasping at whatever parts of him I could, reaching behind me.

My cunt clenching around him like a vice over and over.

“Good gods! You’re so fucking tight…“ Cregan groaned as I felt his cock twitch and throb inside me. “I love you, gorgeous…” He growled in my ear as his hot seed painted my walls white, my clenching cunt draining him of every last drop.

“I love you, handsome… only you, Stark… no one else…” I praised him, slurring, as we rode out our highs together.

[aurorawritestoescape]

THE OTHER BROTHER

Johnny Miller (Joel’s twin) x f!reader | Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: you’re in love with your neighbor Joel but he doesn’t notice you. After another failure to get his attention, someone unexpected offers their help - Joel’s twin brother, Johnny.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, angst, twin au, age gap (Joel and Johnny are in their 30s, reader is in her early 20s), pining, unrequited love, heartbreak, hurt/comfort/hurt/comfort?, virginity loss, insecure reader, soft Johnny, praise kink, size kink, f!oral, breast play, unprotected piv (wrap it up), belly bulge, aftercare, kinda hopeful ending. Pics are only for the mood, reader has no physical description but she wears a dress.

Word count: 7,6 k

A/n: Kate, are Joel and Tommy not enough for you?! Nope, I need one more Miller bro!! I was inspired by Aly’s/ @iamasaddie post and Mina’s / @evolnoomym comment💕💕 Idk whose edit it is, lmk if you do, so I could send my kudos. That edit did something to me. Hope y’all will like the story!💖 Kisses to @milla-frenchy for betaing💋 Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

MASTERLIST

You walked into Joel’s backyard with hope, carrying you on its wings, and excitement, twisting your stomach. A cute summer dress, open sandals, accessories— everything had been planned out and thought over lots of times beforehand. It was your chance to get him to notice you, to finally see you as a woman and not only as his neighbors’ daughter.

You had attended Joel’s barbecues every summer since a few years back when your family had moved on that street. Almost instantly you had fallen in love with your middle aged neighbor Joel. He was handsome, funny, polite, very charming and on top of everything a single parent. Joel seemed to be a wonderful father. You weren’t friends with Sarah, but it wasn’t hard to notice the way they connected. They had that heartwarming father-daughter bond that you and your dad for some reason had never had.

You couldn’t think of anyone else but him. You had thought that leaving for college might have helped but it hadn’t. No one could compare to the perfect Joel Miller. Unfortunately you were just a girl for him. He was always polite and warm but his gaze would always slide over you. You had been crying and yearning for his love for years but it had felt as unreachable as the stars over your head. Unattainable dream.

Thinking that you had nothing to lose, you decided to try your luck once more. You had come back home for a summer break, and after a long time away from your parents you felt mature and confident enough to make Joel notice you. So you stepped into his backyard with a set goal in your mind—to win Joel Miller’s heart.

You found your parents among the other guests and joined them, before searching the backyard for a pair of beautiful brown eyes. Of course Joel was handling the grill. Butterflies in your stomach swirled in excitement, your heartbeat increased but the initial joy of seeing the man of your dreams evaporated instantly, when you noticed that he wasn't alone. His strong arm was wrapped around a waist of a beautiful woman. She was laughing and talking to him, and when Joel leaned down to gently kiss her lips, your heart shattered into a million pieces.

"What's wrong, honey?"

You tried to control your emotions when you heard your mom's voice but it was next to impossible. Upcoming tears squeezed your throat, your lower lip began trembling.

You shook your head and hastily turned away from the sight that set your butterflies on fire - the love of your life was kissing another woman.

“I’m ok,” you lied. “just something in my eye.”

You tried to cover your tears with your hand, and your mom stepped up closer to you, about to offer help but suddenly you heard a deep voice to your right.

“Hey. Don’t think we’ve met.”

Wetness was coating your eyes, distorting your sight, and you barely glanced at the man, who came up to your parents and you, and mumbled,

“Excuse me... I need…need to use the bathroom.”

You rushed away, your parents calling after you but you didn’t stop. You were full on crying.

You ran through Joel’s kitchen and hall and rushed to your house.

You were walking up the stairs of the porch when you heard someone shout behind you,

“Hey, wait!”

You turned around, wiping the tears away with the back of your hand, and what you saw made your jaw drop. Or rather who you saw.

It was Joel. At least you thought so at first. The man looked exactly like your crush but he was dressed differently— Joel whom you had seen five minutes ago was wearing a dark tee while his doppelganger had a plaid green shirt on with a white tee underneath. But the most striking difference was his hair- he had a short buzz cut contrary to Joel’s dark curls. His hair was lighter than his twin’s, just like his eyes.

The stranger came up to you slowly, his expression full of concern and sympathy. You were so flabbergasted that you forgot to hide your reddened eyes and wet face and were staring at the man with your mouth agape.

“I’m Johnny. Joel’s brother. I wanted to make sure ya fine.”

You continued staring at the man, completely lost for words and he talked again,

“I’m his twin brother,” he added, noticing your surprise. “I guess he doesn’t talk much about me, huh?” The stranger smiled as you shook your head.

“Wanna sit down?”

He motioned to the porch bench and you should have probably said ‘no’ and gone to your room to cry your eyes out but a few last minutes were so surreal and emotional that you couldn’t think straight anymore. You nodded. The man followed you there, took a seat at a respectable distance from you, his body turned to you slightly. You were staring at your hands, not sure what to talk about with your new acquaintance.

For a few moments you two were sitting in silence until you remembered the way Joel had been looking at the woman and a pathetic sob crawled up your throat.

“I don’t like her either,” Johnny said and your teary eyes snapped up at him.

“Hm?”

“His new girl. Too bossy. I’m not a fan.”

“I -I don’t… ’don’t like her’. I don’t know her at all,” you croaked.

“Yeah, but you like him, right?”

Your stomach dropped and you faked an awkward laugh, shaking your head.

“No, no, I don’t.”

“Quit lyin’, girl. I’m not dumb. I saw you waltz in there with a happy smile and then when you saw them...Damn, poor thing. Unless you’re in love with her but—,” he chuckled and you hastily shook your head again, waving your hands in protest.

“I don’t love him, oh my god!”

“Ok, ok. Keep denyin’ it. You can watch him get married and have a bunch of kids then.”

When you heard his words your heart froze and, not being able to hide your feelings, you broke into tears, covering your face with your hands.

“Fuck.” The man immediately scooted closer to you and placed his arm around your shoulders.

“’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ve been harsh. Maybe I’m a fool and you just had a bad day, that’s all.”

“No, no, you’re right. I do! I do love him,” you confessed in between sobs.

For a few moments you were crying and Johnny was rubbing your arm with his big hand until he spoke softly,

“You seem like a nice girl. Beautiful, sweet. Have you tried makin‘ him interested?”

You raised your teary eyes at the man and for some weird reason you admitted to him that you had fallen in love with Joel a long time ago but he had never noticed you.

“My brother sounds like an idiot. Look at you. You’re hot, baby.”

You smiled and dropped your eyes.

“And your smile is fuckin’ gorgeous.”

You felt warmth spread in your belly when the man put his finger under your chin and tilted your head up to face him.

You looked at him attentively, taking in every feature of his familiar yet novice face, and noticed that he was as handsome as Joel. His skin was more tan and his eyes were lighter, a mixture of hazel and green, and your heart fluttered at his beauty.

“Do you wanna get ‘im?”

Now it was your turn to laugh.

“Get him?”

“Yeah. First you need to make him notice you.”

“But he has a girlfriend,” you mumbled with defeat ringing in your words.

“So? She ain’t his wife. He can dump her whenever.”

You were quiet.

“Listen. I can get you into this house. Into his life. He’ll see you often and I bet he’ll notice the fuck out of such a hottie.”

You felt your cheeks heat up when you glanced at him and asked,

“How would you do that?”

The man winked at you with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

“Let’s pretend that you and I are going out.”

You giggled, thinking it was a joke, but Johnny kept talking and you realized that he was absolutely serious.

“I’m stayin’ with him right now. We’ll spend a lot of time in his house. He’ll notice you and then fall in love with you in no time.”

“I’m not sure he will. I’m too shy,” you admitted.

“He loves shy girls. And even if you ain’t very talkative. Damn, look at you. You’re hot. And I’ll wingman the fuck out of you.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Brothers share everything. Like, “Bro, yesterday she rocked my world. Her mouth’s heaven. And then she rode me! Damn, she’s the best I ever had. See?”

You were blinking at him with an open mouth and burning up cheeks. When you heard his filthy words you couldn’t help but gush into your panties. Johnny didn’t seem to hold back.

“He’ll be hard over you immediately.”

You furrowed your brows and asked,

“But isn’t there a bro code or something? that you can’t date your brothers’ ex girlfriends?”

“Nah, we don’t follow that.” Johnny waved away your concerns with his big hand. “We dated the same girls all the time in school. What’s good for me’s good for him, right?”

You didn’t know what to think. Johnny's idea was crazy but all of his arguments made a lot of sense. And you were desperate.

“Ok. We can try I guess,” you said, nervously fumbling with the hem of your dress.

“Fuck yeah we can!”

He gave you a charming smile and you smiled back, feeling a little better.

“But my parents can’t know, ok? I’ll tell them I’m with friends.”

“No problem. It’s fake anyway so no reason to make ‘em worry. But—,” he paused, his expression turning serious, — If we want it to work, we need to spend time together beforehand. It’ll help you to get comfortable around me, yeah? to make it believable.”

You nodded, trying to understand what he meant by ‘spend time’.

“Wanna do it now? Let’s hang out in your room. For some time.”

“Aren’t they gonna look for you?” You asked, glancing back at Joel’s house.

“I’m a big boy, baby, I don’t need to tell anyone where I’m goin’.” Johnny replied with a wink.

“Oh yeah, right.”

You got up and headed to the door. Your accomplice followed you, and when you were walking upstairs, you turned to him.

“Johnny, if my parents come early, they can’t see you ok?”

“No problem, I’ll hide in a closet,” he chuckled and gave you another wink.

When you entered your bedroom, Johnny looked around and took his flannel off. He was standing in the middle of your room, white tee stretched over his broad chest, his muscles bulging out of the short sleeves. He rolled them up, exposing more of his arms, and you swallowed loudly. He was bigger than Joel and in your small room he looked so huge and tall, that you felt your core burn.

“Cosy,” Johnny said, walking to your bed and plopped on it unceremoniously. He leaned his back against the headboard, his booted feet hanging off the edge. You were staring at him awkwardly, not knowing if you should sit next to him. Getting on the bed with practically a stranger was not something you could do easily.

So you sat down on a chair by your desk.

"Nah-uh. Get over ‘ere, bunny." He shook his head and patted the space next to him on the bed.

"Ehm... I don't know."

"Jesus, I don't bite. You need to get used to bein’ close to me. Joel isn't stupid. He'll sense that something's fishy if you're skittish like that."

You couldn't deny that he was right. So you came up to the other side of the bed and settled next to him.

"Wanna tell me a bit about yourself, beautiful?" he asked, flashing you a charming smile.

You felt your cheeks burn but after a moment of hesitation, you began telling him about your hobbies, your friends and your plans after graduation. He didn't interrupt you. He asked a few questions but mostly he was just nodding, listening to you attentively. A few times his gaze slid down to your lips, your cleavage, your naked legs, crossed at the ankles.

His eyes were leaving a pleasant heat in their wake until your whole body lit up and a constant warmth settled between your legs. Your pussy was tingling only from you being next to your new acquaintance, hearing his scent, masculine and enticing, seeing him smile at your words. His hazel eyes were getting darker the longer you talked, the more he looked at you.

“What about you, Johnny? What do you do?” You asked, wishing to learn more about the man you were about to fake date.

He averted his eyes and rubbed his scruffy cheek.

”It’s complicated, baby. I’d tell you if you were my girlfriend. For real I mean. But —.” He looked at you with an apologetic smile.

“Oh,” is all you could say in return, blinking at him.

“I can tell you that I travel a lot. ‘s prolly why we’ve never met. I can’t often visit Joel and Sarah.”

It got silent in the room for a moment except for the sound of birds’ chirping, coming through an open window.

“Do you wanna watch something?“ you asked, suddenly feeling awkward.

“Yeah, ‘k.” Johnny took his boots off and placed his feet on the bed. You marveled at how quickly he seemed to get comfortable but decided that he was just that easy-going.

You took your laptop and asked what he wanted to watch.

“Whatever you want, beautiful.”

You smiled at the compliment and your chest fluttered.

”We can watch The Office. It always relaxes me.”

“Yeah, I really wanna see you relaxed, bunny,” he smirked and you stuck your tongue out at him.

A few minutes later you were on the bed, shoulder to shoulder, watching a random episode of the Office that you put on.

Soon Johnny slid down the bedspread and placed his head on your pillow.

“C’mere,” he mumbled, pulling you down with him.

You didn’t know how and why you let him but soon his hand was wrapped around your shoulder and your head was resting on his broad chest.

He was warm and big and you felt your panties dampen more.

“I like that guy,” he commented after some time of watching.

“Ryan? He’s kind of a douche,” you giggled.

“Really?” Johnny hummed.

You continued watching the show, sometimes chuckling from time to time. Once Johnny absentmindedly bucked his hips up and your gaze involuntarily landed on a prominent bulge in his jeans. And then a few times on purpose.

Getting too turned on, you closed your eyes, trying to calm down the fire in your core. Unfortunately it got worse as without your eyesight your whole being concentrated on the strong arm resting heavily on you, on Johnny's scent, his steady, deep breathing.

“Baby?”

Johnny’s voice took you out of your horny trance and you hummed feeling your cheeks burn.

“Can you tell me something?”

“Yes?”

He sat up and you did the same, looking at him with confusion, trying to hide your arousal.

“Can you close your eyes and tell me if my voice is similar to Joel’s? People always answer differently. I wanna know what you think.”

You raised your brows.

“I can tell you right now. It’s similar. Very.”

“No, close your eyes, listen to it.”

You shrugged your shoulders and did what he asked, a little smile dancing on your lips.

“Hey, baby. You're very beautiful.” You smiled wider when you heard his gruff voice, squealing inside at the compliment.

”Thank you, Joel,” you laughed and added, “You sound just like him.” You opened your eyes but Johnny shook his head, motioning for you to shut them again. You did and heard the man sigh deeply.

“Ya know. I’ve been such a fool. I didn’t notice you before but now I see. How gorgeous you are. Crazy hot.”

Your smile vanished as you were listening to him, eyes closed, chewing on your lip. You had dreamed of hearing those words for such a long time that your heart could burst out of your chest at the moment.

“You have a girlfriend, Joel,” you whispered, playing along.

”She’s a mistake. Wish you could forgive me for not tellin’ you all this sooner… Wish I could rip this pretty dress off you and make you scream my name right now.”

Your breath hitched and a new surge of wetness made you squirm in your place.

“Wish I could kiss you right now.”

You instinctively wetted your lips, hearing his words, and the next second Johnny pressed his mouth to yours. You tensed up at first but in a second your body melted at the soft touch. Not opening your eyes, you tilted your head slightly to the side and parted your lips, inviting him in. Immediately Johnny’s tongue slipped inside and brushed yours, gently at first but then more assertively. He was swallowing your pleasured whimpers again and again as you were making out.

”Johnny, I can’t,” you murmured, pulling away and breaking the kiss.

You glanced at him and his expression took your breath away. He looked like he was ready to pounce on you any second. His eyes were burning with desire, lips glistened with your saliva and his broad chest was heaving, dangerously close to ripping his tee.

He visibly tried to calm himself down— he took a deep breath and then placed your hand between his.

“Yeah, fuck, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lost control like that.” His expression softened as his eyes were locked with yours.

“No, don’t be. It was nice but … but…”

You struggled to continue, the words got stuck in your throat.

Johnny’s eyes were darting between yours, as he was patiently waiting for you to continue.

Then you whispered, your voice barely audible, gaze downcast, “I’m a virgin.”

You expected any reaction but not the one he gave you.

“Fuck.”

Your eyes snapped up at him and tears immediately welled up in your eyes. Johnny looked straight up disappointed. He pulled away from you and your sob broke the icy silence in the room. You were always terrified to admit it to people, especially to men, and at that moment your worst nightmare was coming true.

“‘s bad,” Johnny mumbled, still not looking at you. “Shit.”

You were hurt but your pain quickly turned into anger.

“Please leave!”

As if finally having noticed your distress, Johnny turned to you, shaking his head.

“Oh fuck, no, no, I don’t mind. Shit. I think— it’s great—for whatever reason you—no. It’s Joel, baby.”

“What? What about Joel?” you asked, feeling a little better, when he took your hands in his and answered,

”He’s not a fan of virgins. Never was. He told me many times he didn’t want the responsibility of bein’ someone’s first.”

“Why?” You felt your heart shuttering again.

“Don’t know,” Johnny shrugged, ”I guess he prefers someone more experienced. Once he broke up with a girl when he found out she was a virgin.”

Now it was your turn to curse.

“Fuck.” You probably looked absolutely defeated and Johnny rapidly wrapped his arm around you to pull you to his torso.

You started silently crying on his shoulder, having realized that Joel would never love you, would never even give you a chance.

Johnny was rubbing your arm with his big warm hand while you were soaking his white tee with tears, until he said,

“You know, it’s not a big deal.”

You sniffed and sat up straight.

“What do you mean not a big deal?” your voice was shaky and small. “You’ve just said he hates virgins.”

Johnny lifted his hand to wipe your wet face with his thick fingers.

“Kinda easy to lose it, beautiful. Your v card.”

“No, it’s not. I wanted Joel to— to do it. I don’t want anyone else.”

You were pouting your lips, eyes reddened and teary staring at the man sitting close to you. In your blurry vision he looked even more like Joel.

”I can help you, bunny,” Johnny offered with a lopsided smile. He tilted his head to the side and waited for your reaction.

You swallowed loudly when you heard him and turned away. You couldn’t deny that Johnny was hot, your soaked panties were a good evidence of your desire for him but how could you do it with a man you had just met. Who wasn’t Joel.

Joel who had a girlfriend.

Joel who didn’t want to deal with virgins.

Joel who never noticed you.

You looked back at the twin brother of the man you loved and asked,

“Would you really do it for me?”

Johnny cleared his throat.

“Ehm… yeah, why wouldn’t I? You’re hot,” he said it so matter of fact-ly that it sounded sincere and you believed that he really wanted to help.

“Ok, good,” you said, with an air of uncertainty. “We can try but maybe not today, ok? We’ve just met,” you mumbled, fumbling with your fingers.

“Yeah. ‘Course,” Johnny smirked and then quickly added, “Did you like it when I kissed you?”

Not looking at the man you nodded.

“Want me to do it again?”

His question made your heart skip a beat. You had felt amazing when he had kissed you, your body reacted to him in a wonderful way and, after glancing up at his plush lips, you nodded the second time.

Johnny gently cupped your cheek and leaned towards you. His lips began caressing yours, your tongues tangled and, not breaking the kiss, you scooted closer to him on the bed. He read your intentions and pulled you into his big strong arms. His hand snaked up to the back of your head, the other was pressed to your lower back, keeping you close, as you were tasting him, feeling his heart thump against your chest. You were floating.

Soon his mouth slithered to your jaw and he nibbled on your skin there while his hands began roaming your body, gliding over your back, your arms until he squeezed your ass with his palms and you moaned into his mouth.

“Oh, baby, ya fuckin’ hot,” he groaned and you felt his lips suck a hickey into your neck while his hand snaked under your skirt. He engulfed your whole asscheek with his palm and your thin lacy panties easily let the heat of his skin seep through. You whimpered when the pads of his fingers glided down to your clothed pussy. Just one touch was enough for your brain to panic and you pulled away from him.

“Sorry, Johnny, it’s too much.”

You wanted to get off the bed, the whirlwind of emotions overwhelming you, but he grabbed you by the hand.

“Don’t leave. Please. Sorry, bunny. I went in too fast.“

You sat down on your heels, catching your breath and trying to calm down your foggy mind and burning up body.

“Let’s cuddle. C’mon. Jus’ wanna hold you.”

He returned your laptop to your desk and lay down on the bed that now seemed too small for his huge body. It made the whole situation even hotter.

A fear of the unknown and an immense desire were fighting in your heart, and you let the latter win, assuring yourself that you were just going to get used to him hugging you, so you could get close to Joel later.

That’s why you let him wrap his strong arms around you, let his face be inches from yours, let his hot breath fan your lips, let his scent intoxicate you. You were lying in his embrace for just a few moments before his lips found yours, and you didn’t fight it anymore, you welcomed their warmth.

He was more careful that time, slowly pulling you close to his body, but his hands didn’t wander. What was making you melt was his quiet words, seeping into your ears between kisses, barely audible through your soft whimpers, smacking of the lips and his breathing.

“Ya taste like honey—beautiful girl—Joel’s fuckin’ lucky—so pretty—could eat you whole, baby.”

Contrary to him, you were getting bolder and sent your hands roam his broad back, squeeze his masculine arms, glide over the slopes of his shoulders and then run through his short hair that pleasantly tickled your palms.

It was a matter of time before he slowly pushed you on your back and began kissing your neck. You tilted your head back into the pillow, giving him more access and he happily growled against your heated skin.

“Good girl,” you heard his praise and the ache of your pussy made you press your thighs together.

“Oh, Joe…Johnny,” you started and then hastily corrected yourself.

Johnny stopped nibbling on your collarbone and your heart froze, expecting him to get angry, but the man smiled at you.

“You can call me Joel, beautiful… to practice, yeah? Soon he’s gonna be the one kissin’ you.”

The suggestion sounded insane but in your aroused, overwhelmed with feelings state you let yourself imagine the man you loved caressing you with his lips. You fluttered your eyes shut and it was so easy to fantasize about Joel’s hand holding your hip and pressing you into the mattress, Joel’s lips peppering kisses along your neck and then going down, reaching the plush of your cleavage. Drowning in your fantasy you missed the moment Johnny’s chin pushed your neckline down, exposing more of your breasts. You rubbed your thighs against each other, chasing pressure on your tingling pussy, as his palm started kneading your tit over the fabric.

“Yeah, Joel,” you breathed out and didn’t stop yourself that time, fully succumbing to the want of your heart and body.

Your mind turned off completely, you were so gone in pleasure, that when you finally opened your eyes, to your surprise you saw Johnny’s hot tongue swirl around your pebbled nipple. A loud moan flew out of your parted lips as your hazy gaze took in the sight of your dress and bra pulled down and the man caressing your nipples, alternating between sucking and licking them, while your naked chest was heaving under his ministrations.

With his mouth almost engulfing your whole breast, Johnny glanced up at you and his blown out lustful eyes sent another bolt of arousal through your core.

“Johnny, please,” was all you could muster. He hummed into your tit before parting from it and searching for your glossy eyes.

“Do you like it when I do this?” He asked, his breath hitting your saliva coated skin, your nipples as hard as diamonds now. You mumbled a weak ’yeah’..

“Good. And have you ever had your pussy kissed, beautiful?”

You bit your lip, almost reaching your high just from hearing the question.

“No,” you whispered back and Johnny shot you a mysterious smile.

“Can I be the first, baby?”

“I— I don’t know,” you said hesitantly.

“C’mon, bunny. I wanna make you feel good. Wanna feel real good?”

The act seemed to you so intimate and vulnerable, just an idea of it made you anxious.

“Lil scared bunny,” he smiled and then wrapped his fingers around your naked breast, holding it in his hand. “Look.”

A second later his lips brushed your nipple again, his dark eyes locked with yours.

“Imagine the nipple is your little clit. I’ll jus’ lick it like that.”

His tongue stroked it, covering the sensitive bud in his saliva.

“Then I’ll suck on it like this.”

Johnny took it into his mouth and applied gentle suction to it.

“I’ll make you come so hard like that. It’s just another type of kissing, baby.”

You’ve never been turned on more than at that moment so after a few moments of consideration you shoved your fears away and whimpered,

“Ok.”

“Good girl.”

You hole clenched when you heard his praise. Johnny pulled the hem of his tee up and took it off.

Your breath hitched when you saw his strong chest and soft belly with a happy trail that led under his jeans. Johnny casually glided his hand over his strong torso and you bit your lip, not letting out another needy whimper.

“‘s getting too hot,” he mumbled and lay down between your thighs. His legs were hanging off the bed and you marveled at the muscles, flexing in his back and shoulders. You wondered if Joel’s body was as gorgeous as his twin brother’s. Of course it was, you thought.

The dress was still covering you and after a nod from you, Johnny lifted your skirt. Your hips flew up as if by themselves when he started sliding your panties off.

”Fuck, baby, this is the most beautiful pussy I’ve ever seen,” his soft voice praised you as you were lying in front of him, almost naked and trembling with nerves.

“Thank you,” you whispered back.

“Can’t wait to taste you.”

He spread your folds with his index finger and a thumb while his shoulders were keeping your thighs wider apart. Your pussy opened up to him like an offering.

“Pretty flower,” he commented and immediately did what he’d promised.

He licked your hardened clit, drawing a pathetic moan from you, and then lapped at it a few times. The sensations you were feeling were incomparable to anything you’d ever experienced. Your hand darted to your naked breasts and you began twitching your nipples.

“Fuck, yeah,” he mumbled against your sex and the vibrations sent shivers through your body.

Johnny smiled, having noticed your reaction, and began sucking on your bud, massaging it between his lips.

“Ahhh—oh my god—oh yeah,” was all you could mutter. When you were on the brink of ecstasy, his tongue slid down and snuck into your virginal hole. He began fucking you with it, spreading your walls with his flattened tongue and your needy screams, moans and whimpers filled the bedroom. You were sure that if someone was passing by your house, they’d hear the sounds of your pleasure but your mind was switched off, only the bliss between your legs and the man giving it to you mattered at that moment.

You tried to grab his hair but it was too short to hold on to so your palm pressed onto the back of his head as you were greedily holding Johnny's mouth against your pussy.

“Fuckin’ delicious. Can’t believe I’m first.”

With your glossed over gaze you watched him return his tongue to your throbbing clit and stroke it a few times, until your eyes rolled back and a hard orgasm exploded like fireworks inside your core, sending hot waves of euphoria through your body.

Johnny didn’t stop lapping at you until you tried to close your legs, the ache of overstimulation burning you.

He sat up and wiped his wet chin with the back of his hand, the other hand splayed over your thigh, gently rubbing it.

“Look at you, beautiful. Came hard for me, huh? Jus’ like I promised.”

He smiled at you, visibly pleased with your almost drunk post-orgasmic state. Your tits were out and slightly pushed up by the neckline, nipples puffy from his and your caress, your summer dress bunched up around your waist, your glistening pussy fully on display.

While your eyes were admiring the beauty of his features, so similar to Joel’s, you failed to notice his hands unzipping his jeans and pulling them down.

Your gaze darted to the lower part of his body when you spotted a movement there— his hard cock bobbing over your naked cunt.

It was long, quite thick, with a fat tip that was oozing clear precum. He stroked the shaft a couple of times with his big hand and grunted, “ya wanna make me feel good too, baby?”

As if by an instinct your thighs opened up wider, inviting him inside you, your mind clouded by lust.

“Yes, Johnny.”

“Nah, baby, call me Joel,” he gruffed as he bent down, planted his hands on the bed, next to your shoulders and added, ”I know you wanna. And I ain’t against role playing.”

“Really?”

“Sure, bunny.”

It was wrong. And so hot at the same time. You giggled, sound strained by the nerves, twisting your stomach. He was big and you had never imagined your first time happening with a man you’d just met. Yet your pussy was screaming to be pierced with a cock. His cock. You’d never been turned on that much in your life and you gave in to the temptation without a second thought.

His lips found yours at the same time his tip nudged your hole, and when his tongue slipped into your mouth, the head of his cock pushed assertively into you.

He swallowed your whine and paused, hovering over your face, your eyes locked.

“Shit, ya tight. But we can do it, yeah, bunny?”

”It hurts, Johnny.”

“Shhh, not Johnny, remember? C’mon, it’ll help you relax.”

“Joel.”

“Yeah, good girl.”

As if the name of the man you loved was magical, you walls relaxed a little, letting in a few inches of his brother’s manhood.

Johnny planted a light kiss on your lips and you felt his thumb graze your clit before he began gently rubbing it.

“Close your eyes, beautiful, let my cock taste your sweet cunt.”

“Oh, fuck, Joel,” you moaned, fully lost in the fantasy, and squeezed your eyelids shut.

“Now breathe. Big breaths, bunny.”

He was whispering praise into your ear, distracting you from the dull pain of the stretch, slowly pushing his length in while his thumb was swirling around your clit.

“Like that, beautiful—yeah, tight little cunt— the tip’s in—good, so good—a little more, baby—my good girl—fuck, it’s almost in—-YEAHHH..”

His triumphant growl mixed with your loud moan when his balls hit your ass and you felt full like never before.

As soon as he sheathed his manhood inside your warm tight cunt, your lips locked, and while your tongues were sliding against each other, you were trying to get used to the feeling of something so long and thick stuffed inside you.

Your walls soon accommodated his cock and the pain slowly dissipated, giving way to pleasure.

“Ima be gentle, baby,” Johnny promised, after breaking the kiss, and languidly rolled his hips into yours. The sensation of his big member moving inside your tight channel made you tilt your head back into the pillow and open your lips in a silent moan.

He didn’t lie. With one hand planted on the bed, the other playing with your clit, he was sliding his cock in and out of your sopping pussy, slowly but surely bringing you closer to the peak. Your greedy hands danced over the slopes of his strong chest, fingers digging into his biceps, nails leaving white marks on his tan skin.

“Yes, Joel—please—so good, Joel,” you were whispering, letting your broken heart believe that the man you had always dreamed about was between your legs at that moment.

Johnny’s greedy eyes couldn’t get enough of you- your lustful expression, your tits bouncing with each thrust, your folds, spread around his base.

“Ya have the wettest pussy, baby. Soakin’ me so good. Look at all that cream.”

With hazy eyes you watched him swipe his thumb over the base of his cock, coated in your pearly juices, and bring it to his lips. He took the finger in his mouth and hummed in pleasure.

Your tongue slid over your lower lip and, taking it as an invitation, Johnny kissed you, sharing the taste of your desire.

You were melting under his unhurried thrusts, but your core needed more and, too shy to ask for it, you began meeting his hips halfway, fucking yourself on his cock harder.

“Mmm, bunny wants more?” Johnny smirked into a corner of your lips.

“Yes, Joh—Joel, please.”

“Of course, beautiful. Let’s make this sweet pussy scream.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he sat up and pulled your hips to himself. You slid one the bed with a gasp and he chuckled before thrusting in harder.

His tip hit your cervix and you grasped the sheets with a moan.

“Hurts, baby?”

“A little.”

He shook his head, grabbed a spare pillow and, after lifting your hips, placed it under your ass.

“Now?” he asked as he pulled his cock out to the tip and then shoved it back inside.

You whimpered when his cock kissed something delicious inside you and the sensation made you clench around his stiff member.

“Like that, yes, yes,” you mumbled, sounding drunk, eyes set on the place where you were joined.

Johnny smiled and rolled his hips again, the stroke hard and deep, and then again and again until he was rutting into you while you were turning into a whimpering, cock-dumb mess.

When he tilted his hips up and drilled his manhood into your cunt, you both saw a bulge appear in your belly and you gasped at the sight. You’d never seen anything like it.

Not stopping, Johnny placed his palm over the lump and tilted his head, watching and feeling his cock move under your skin.

“Fuck, ‘s hot.” He looked mesmerized. “You’re hot, bunny. Shit, gonna come soon. Do it with me.”

His thumb continued dancing on your clit and it took just a few strokes for you to explode. Your pulsating pussy was flattering around his manhood, nerves ablaze, while your juices flooded him inside your core, soaking his hot, soft skin, stretched over his throbbing cock. It was the hardest, most pleasant orgasm of your life and the warmth between your legs spread out, filling your heart with gratitude and affection.

Johnny was unaware of your inner feelings, and as soon as your pussy relaxed around him, he pulled his cock out and after a couple of pumps, started painting your pussy and belly with pearly white ropes of his thick cum.

You watched his balls draw up, his slit push out the load like you’d never seen anything more beautiful. Endorphins in your blood made you feel like you were floating, your limbs pleasantly tingling, and when your eyes met, you gave Johnny a tired, satisfied smile.

He answered it with his lopsided one and plopped on the bed next to you. You were catching your breath for some time until he tucked his softening cock into his jeans, got up and went to the bathroom.

You felt like you couldn’t move a muscle and, when he returned, he helped you to clean up with a wet towel.

“I reckon you ain’t on the pill,” he mumbled, wiping the cum off your skin.

“No. I will be,” you said, glancing up at him but his eyes were set on the task.

When he was done, you reached for him.

“Wanna cuddle?”

To your disappointment Johnny shook his head, and grabbed his tee off the floor.

“Need to go, bunny. I have a thing.”

You sat up, fixing your wrinkled dress, covering yourself up.

“Ok.” Your voice, small and sad, made him pause and he stepped up to the bed and bent down, reaching for you.

His hand cupped your heated cheek and he kissed you before speaking.

“Let’s have dinner tomorrow. At Joel’s.”

You beamed at him, nodding eagerly.

Before leaving he wrote his number on a note and gave you a wink.

“Wear something hot for Joel. And for me.”

You barely slept that night— the memory of your first sex was playing on a loop in your head. Every time you closed your eyes, you felt Johnny’s hands on your body, his cock stretching you, and your pussy ached for him again. You made yourself come twice with your fingers and when the sun was already breaking through the inky sky, only then you fell asleep.

The next day you woke up early and texted Johnny ‘good morning’. He didn’t reply and you thought he must be still sleeping. So you busied yourself with preparations for the dinner— choosing the clothes to wear, makeup, accessories. You wanted to look casual but hot like Johnny had asked you. You decided on a pair of tight jeans and a sexy top and went to the kitchen.

You lied to your parents that in the evening you were meeting a friend. Like always after any party your mom was spilling out all the gossip she’d gathered the day before. Both you and your dad just hummed here and there, not really interested in the boring rumors but suddenly your ears perked up when she mentioned Joel’s twin brother.

”I can’t believe that man. No shame at all.”

She noticed that she finally had your active attention and her eyes lit up.

“What’s wrong with Johnny?” you asked, while fear was creeping up in your chest.

“He’s such a deadbeat brother. Poor Joel.”

It seemed like you stopped breathing altogether, listening to your mother talk about the man who had taken your virginity the day before. She continued,

“Johnny visits him once a year, borrows money and vanishes until the next time he needs it. Joel’s a single father! Working man! And that leach uses his kindness and generosity. Ugh!”

“How do you know all that?” you asked, grasping at the last straw of hope that it was a lie, misunderstanding, baseless rumour.

“Dear, everyone knows that,” your mother laughed and started talking about the other neighbor who had told her and you didn’t hear her anymore. Your thoughts were racing and your heart was pounding loudly in your ears.

You excused yourself and ran to your room.

‘He vanishes’—the words of your mother were ringing in your head, your stomach being twisted by nerves.

You plopped on your bed and called Johnny. He didn’t pick up. You decided to wait. 5 min later you called him again. Nothing.

In three hours you were a nervous mess. You had cried several times, had sent dozens of messages that were unanswered and unread, had called him more times that you wished to admit but hadn’t heard his voice once.

That phone number was the only thing that he had left you, yet you realized that there was another option.

You put on the clothes you’d prepared for the dinner, rinsed your face off your tears as well as you could and headed to Joel’s.

When you knocked on the door, you feared that no one would answer. The uncertainty was suffocating you and your breathing was heavy. All you wished for was to get answers - did the man who had taken your virginity lie to you? Did he use you like a fuck toy and vanished? Was his attention to you just a means to get into your panties?

You were chewing nervously on your lower lip when Joel opened the door. For a second you thought it was Johnny, so much they looked alike but a little ray of hope dissipated when you saw the man’s soft curls.

”Hey, sweetheart,” Joel greeted you, visibly confused by your visit.

You cleared your throat and mumbled,

“Hello. Could I see Johnny?”

Joel opened his mouth and closed it before mumbling,

“Fuck.”

Your heart fell in your stomach when you saw him pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh.

“Sweetheart. Excuse me but— Was he with you yesterday?”

You nodded and he cursed again.

“He told me— he—,” Joel paused, his expression sad and apologetic. ”I’m so sorry, sweetie, but he left this morning. I don’t know what he told you but—.”

He shook his head, looking physically pained to be telling you that.

When all your fears were proven right, you couldn’t keep your despair inside anymore. Tears burst out of your eyes as you were nodding at Joel’s words like everything was alright. Like you weren’t hurt. The tears flowed so much that you barely could see Joel through the wetness in your eyes.

Joel placed his warm hand on your shoulder.

“Please, sweetheart, come inside.”

When you asked Joel about Johnny, he immediately understood that you were the girl he had slept with the previous night. Johnny had bragged about fucking the hottest chick in the neighborhood.

Joel couldn’t believe it had been you, so shy and sweet, he’d never expected Johnny to get his hands on someone so pure and lovely.

He felt horrible for letting his vagabond brother into his home again, and subsequently into your life. When you were sitting in his kitchen, crying quietly, he wanted to comfort you so badly his heart hurt. He placed a hot cup of tea in front of you and you thanked him between sobs. A pang of guilt shot through his heart.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed, stepping up to you. He took your hands in his and when you lifted your face and gave him a little smile, your gorgeous eyes full of tears, Joel felt something stir in his heart. Something he hadn’t felt for a long time. It made his breath hitch for a moment.

Even with your face streaked with tears you were so damn beautiful.

Why hadn’t he ever noticed how beautiful you were?

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

MASTERLIST

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[astars-things]

hiiiii, could you please write anything fluffy with Hughes!brothers pls when you have time 💕. Hope ur doing well xx ❤️❤️

I'm doing okay thank you for asking x

word count- 1003

Being the eldest of four siblings meant you had always been the one looking out for Quinn, Jack, and Luke. You were a year older than Quinn, three years older than Jack, and five years older than Luke. But for the past year, you had been traveling the world, chasing adventure and discovering new places. 

As incredible as it had been, nothing compared to home, and you missed your family more than words could express. Jack and Luke had made it painfully obvious how much they missed you, constantly sending you messages and complaining about how quiet things were without you. Quinn, being Quinn, wasn’t as vocal, but you knew he felt the same. And your parents? They were counting down the days until you returned—except they had no idea today was the day.

You had planned this surprise down to the last detail. Turning off Life360 and telling your family you’d be in a no-service area had worked like a charm—no suspicions at all. You knew they were all at the lake house for the summer since hockey was on pause, which made it the perfect opportunity. Your flight had been at an ungodly hour, and by the time you landed in Michigan, the sun was already starting to dip—5 PM, just in time for their weekly game night.

Your childhood best friend, who was just as excited as you, had eagerly agreed to pick you up from the airport. The moment you stepped into the arrivals area, she sprinted toward you, practically tackling you in a hug.

“Y/N!” she shrieked, squeezing you so tight you could barely breathe. "god i misses you so much"

“I missed you too ,” you said breathlessly, laughing as you hugged her back.

The car ride to the lake house was filled with nonstop chatter, catching up on everything you had missed.

“Oh my God, I met the hottest man while I was in Australia,” you gushed, still thinking about how dreamy he had been. “He was just… ahh.”

She smirked, shaking her head. “I need details later. But first, let’s make your family cry.”

As soon as you arrived, you left your luggage in the car, making a mental note to grab it later. Your best friend had already put the next phase of the plan into motion—texting your mom, telling her she missed you and wanted to come over. In reality, she was setting up the perfect moment to record everyone’s reaction.

She walked inside, greeted everyone with a hug, and casually took a seat on the couch, pulling out her phone  she sent you a quick text Now and quickly switching to the camera app to record.

Taking a deep breath, you walked toward the door, heart pounding in anticipation.

You pushed it open gently, stepping inside. “so who is winning? Also where was my invite?”

For a moment, there was silence—stunned, disbelieving silence.

Then all hell broke loose.

Your mom gasped so loudly you thought she might pass out, and before you could blink, she was rushing toward you, arms wide open, tears streaming down her face. “Oh my baby—my baby’s home!” she sobbed, hugging you so tightly it felt like she’d never let go.

Jack let out an actual scream—high-pitched, borderline embarrassing—and launched himself at you, nearly knocking you over. “NO WAY! NO WAY! Y/N! YOU’RE HERE! YOU’RE REALLY HERE!” His voice cracked mid-sentence as he clung to you like a koala.

Luke was right behind him, eyes already red and watery. “I missed you so much,” he choked out, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your shoulder.

You felt another set of arms around you—Quinn. He didn’t say much, just a whispered, “I really missed you,” but the way his voice wavered told you everything you needed to know.

Your dad was wiping his eyes, trying (and failing) to keep it together. “This is the best surprise ever,” he said, pulling you into a tight hug.

Jack sniffled dramatically, rubbing his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie. “I don’t care if it makes me look weak—I’M CRYING,” he announced.

Luke nodded furiously, wiping his own tears. “Same.”

Quinn, still hugging you, just sighed. “Yeah… me too.” 

Your best friend cackled from the couch, still recording. “I’m so glad I got all of this on video.”

Jack groaned. “This is so embarrassing.”

Jack wiped his face aggressively with his sleeve. “Whatever. I’m just happy you’re home.”

Luke sniffled, still clinging to you like a lost puppy. “You’re not allowed to leave again.”

Quinn, who had finally let go, gave you a soft smile. “Agreed.”

Your mom cupped your face, eyes still shining with happy tears. “You have no idea how much we’ve missed you.”

You leaned into her touch, sighing contentedly. “I missed you all more than words can say.”

Before you could say anything else, Jack suddenly gasped. “WAIT. YOU HAVE TO SIT NEXT TO ME FOR GAME NIGHT.”

Luke pouted. “Uh, no? She’s sitting next to me.”

“Guys,” Quinn interrupted, raising an eyebrow. “She just got here. Let her breathe.”

Your dad chuckled. “Or at least let her eat first.”

But before you could even think about food, Jack grabbed your hand, dragging you toward the couch. “Nope, nope, game night first. You’ve missed too many already!”

Luke plopped down on your other side, still holding onto your arm like a security blanket. “You’re not moving from this spot, Y/N.”

Quinn shook his head but didn’t argue as he sat across from you, smiling softly. “It really is good to have you home.”

Your mom brought over snacks, still occasionally wiping her eyes. Your dad gave your shoulder a squeeze before settling in next to your mom. Your best friend, having successfully recorded every teary-eyed reaction, put her phone down with a satisfied grin and leaned against you.

And as you sat there, sandwiched between your brothers, hearing their laughter, feeling their warmth, you realized this—this was home.

Jack suddenly squeezed your hand. “Promise you won’t leave for that long again?”

You squeezed back, looking around at your family, at the pure love radiating from each of them.

“I promise.”

And for the first time in a long time, your heart felt completely full.

[alicewritez]

A Promise - Jack Sparrow

word count: 1071

summary: Jack makes the promise to never let you go again

Jack Sparrow x Reader

authors note: I’ve only just started getting into writing again so it could be a little hit and miss but hope you enjoy it anyway 💕

It's been months since you last seen Jack. You both were an inseparable force when together; two parts of a puzzle that just clicked together. Well.. that's what you thought until he got himself captured, taking the blame for your apparent disappearance. You weren't the woman they were looking for, you just happened to have similar features but they were losing hope and needed someone to blame - so Jack stepped up.

The more time that passed, the more you lost hope of ever seeing him again. Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months and no one had heard a single thing from him. You worried, of course you did, he was only human. But if there was one thing you knew about Jack, it was that he could always get himself out of trouble no matter what it was. But your lack of hope didn't last as a familiar figure stumbled towards you, almost in a drunken state but he also looked completely sober. But it couldn't be, could it?

You squinted your eyes, looking into the distance to try and see the figure more clearly; it looked all too familiar but you weren't about to get your hopes up. Your heartbeat raced with every step he took, getting closer to you. It was indeed Jack, though his face was scratched and bruised quite badly. He stood there with waiting arms wide open, ready to welcome you into them - this was new. "I finally did it.. I came for you." And without a second thought, you sprinted into his waiting arms, burying your face into his chest, relishing in the feeling of being held in his arms.

He wrapped his arms around you tight, his exhaustion washing away almost immediately and was soon replaced with relief. He squeezed you tight and sighed deeply - he couldn't believe this either. "I thought I'd never see you again.." he mumbled, burying his face into your hair; it smelled of salt water and sea air.. home. He sighed once more. "I never want to let you go.. I'm never letting you go."

You pull away to take a closer look at his face, reaching a hand up and tracing your fingers gently over his cuts and bruises. "What did they do to you?" You asks in a whisper, mostly to yourself, but Jack heard nonetheless.

"Nothing I couldn't handle," he replied dismissively. He took your hand that was cradling his face and kept a hold of it, bringing it to his chest as he closed the distance between the pair of you again. "These?" He references his bruises, "they're nothing compared to what was going through my head about you." He sighed deeply, his grip tightening on you as if he was afraid you would disappear if he let go. "I couldn't get you off my mind.. I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

"You're hurt though," you swallow back a sob. "They hurt you."

"I'm okay really-" he started but saw your worried look and stopped. You were always like that; always caring for him. Always worried for him. Always his weakness.

He leaned his head down to press his forehead against yours. "I survived, and I'm okay."

"Surviving doesn't mean that you're okay though, does it?" Tears still gathered in your eyes as you took in the sight of him.

You always understood him so well. Maybe even better than he knew himself. "No, you're right," he mumbled, pulling you closer. "But.. I would survive anything for you." Jack buried his face into your neck, taking in your scent after such a long time apart, his hands rubbing your back gently, trying to give you some sort of comfort.

"You're so stupid, do you know that?" You speak up and break the silence.

A smirk instantly spreads on his face. "Stupid enough to come back for you." He turned his head so that you were facing each other; your eyes locked and his smirk turns into a playful smile. The Jack you knew was slowly coming back to you.

You shake your head with a laugh; everything felt so natural when you were around him that it almost didn't feel real. But it was. And he was here, in front of you, the both of you finally together again.

He leaned forward so that your noses were almost touching. You're laugh made him feel lighter; happier. Everything about you made his heart skip a beat. He slowly reached his hand up to your face, brushing your cheeks with his thumb. "I missed you."

“I missed you too Jack.” She spoke sincerely. “I assume you’ll be wanting the pearl back.”

He stayed glued to the same spot, his eyes never once leaving yours, his hand still firmly placed on your cheek. “Ah yes, the Pearl.” But in truth, he was in no hurry, this moment with you was already more than enough. “And you.”

“Well obviously.” You teased with a wide smile.

“Oh obviously, but I’m not talking about the ship.” He leaned his face closer until his lips hovered right above your own. “I’m talking about you. I missed you..” he whispered, finally pressing his lips to yours. “I want you.”

“And I’m pretty sure if I mentioned that there was rum on the ship, you’d want that too?” You smirk. He couldn’t help but laugh and met himself smile.

“Of course not, as long as I’m accompanied by you,” he replied, his hand moving down your back and his fingers wrapping your waist. “You got me hooked..”

“Like an anchor in the sand.” You finished with a proud smile, beaming up at him.

“An anchor for me to keep me grounded,” he mumbled back with a smirk; his hand moving up your back to the nape of your neck, brushing his fingers through your hair as he leaned closer, your faces now almost pressed together.

“I won’t let you go,” he whispered, his forehead touching yours as he held you impossibly closer. “Never again.”

And that was a promise he planned to keep.