#// hi sorry she hopped at this opportunity

[dayplays]

@already-know-this-story said: "Sorry!" A wave of water rises up around Rain, blocking out any fire attack only the faint sizzle of the two elements colliding and steam forming around the two. "That won't work on me cutie~" Better think of something soon Blaze, the water levels are rising and quickly

"Kss...!" She hissed as hot steam blasted at her attempt at a counterattack, shielding her face as it misted around her, aura of flames flaring further against both it and the water pooling around her. The other's defense was more than matching her offense.

Amber eyes narrowed, struggling to squint through the thick cloud of vapor they'd already created clashed against one another... when, with a perk of her head, an idea manifests.

Fire bursting from her hands and heels as she lifted off the ground.

"We'll see about that, kitten." The flame princess growled, more fireballs forming in her hands that she quickly threw out at the waves of water, to much the same effect as before- burst of steam sizzling out into the air. They're quickly chased by more, and more, and more from the feline as she rocketed around the palace interior.

Not making any progress at piercing Rain's defense, not at all, but each burst of flame meeting the cold waters came with an equal amount of steam; in mere moments, the area around other's safety bubble had been utterly whited out in mist.

Blaze giving the other one last smirk while she still flew above it all, before blasting backwards- flames dissipating as she spun into a flip and disappeared into the mist she'd created. Finding cover in it.

Graceful click of heels landing against stone ringing out.

[charliemwrites]

it is my borfday. I am now 20 whole years. So I ask: 1fur1 reaction to readers borfday? I have 1fur1 thoughts but they aren't ready yet... They're still cooking

Happy Borfday!!!!! Two decades 🎉🎉

Okay just for you, bean - I’ll make it a full part too, even. This is very fluffy up until the end when it gets just a hint of spice.

(No human boys in this one, sorry!)

You haven’t said a word about it all week - and why would you? You live alone with three dogs. It’s not like they care that it’s your birthday; or even understand what time is, really. (Except for dinner time of course.)

But the day of your birthday dawns, a little rainy. You let yourself sleep in a bit, mumbling five more minutes three times in a row when Ghost nudges impatiently at your cheek.

Eventually you do get up though, giving each of your boys a crooning “good morning” and laying kisses on their precious heads. You stumble to the kitchen to start your coffee, even pull out the fancy beans you reserve for special occasions. While it’s brewing, you start gearing up the boys for their morning potty. The precipitation is mostly mist right now, but you’d rather them not smell like wet dog.

You’re trying to belt a wiggly, impatient Johnny in when your phone rings. Huffing, you tap at the speaker icon and try to wrestle the stupid hood over his big-ass ears.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart!” your mom trills through the phone.

At the noise, Johnny thankfully goes still. You finish securing his raincoat and turn to Konig. Thankfully, he’s much more cooperative about getting dressed - even if he takes every opportunity to lick your face.

“Uh, thanks,” you answer. Honestly, you were hoping she’d forget.

“What are you doing today to celebrate? Going out with friends? Maybe a date…?”

You roll your eyes as you finish adjusting Konig’s (custom) raincoat.

“Definitely not. I was just gonna stay in, order some food, drink some wine…”

You haven’t even finished before your mother is protesting.

“No, no, no, you need to do something special! Not every day is your birthday.”

And thank fuck for that, you think, shaking your head.

“It’s not that big a deal,” you insist. The boys crowd as you lead the way to the back door and prop it open. They seem oddly reluctant to leave your side. You assume it’s the rain and shoo them off, your mother still on speaker.

“Well if you won’t do anything, I will.”

“Ma, you really don’t need to—“

“Dinner will be at 6:30. Don’t be late!”

And she hangs up. You groan, run a hand down your face. Well. At least it’s only dinner. You can still do the rest of your plans.

“Boys!” you call, noting that they’re mostly just congregating at the edge of the yard. They instantly return to your side, even Johnny - who has a tendency to make you chase him in the rain.

They each file inside, sit and behave while you remove their raincoats and hang them to dry. As usual, they follow and crowd while you make up your coffee. Add a bit of whiskey just for fun; you won’t need to drive for a while.

The boys climb onto the couch with you, happily arranging themselves in a warm circle. Konig at your back like a living pillow. Johnny on your right, head in your lap. Ghost just in front, pressed against your shins and warming your feet.

You settle in with a contented sigh and sip your coffee. Even put on a show you’ve been meaning to get to.

Midway through the episode, Ghost slips off the couch and slinks off. You notice in the back of your mind, but he tends to be the moodiest of your boys and figure he just wants some alone time.

When he comes back, you hum at him, kissing his muzzle as he takes your other side. As the next episode is loading, Johnny hops down.

“Biiiiig stretch,” you coo, grinning as his back legs extend. He wags, licks your hand in parting, and trots off. You hear the doggy door clatter, figure he didn’t do all his business after all.

About an hour later, the doorbell chimes. You jump, but… the boys are oddly quiet. Usually they’d be rioting that someone dares come to the door. This time, though alert, not so much as a growl.

Put off, you pad to the door and check the peephole. Just a delivery man with a… frankly monstrous bouquet.

You open the door, prepared to tell him that he’s made a mistake. But he says your name and address and tells you happy birthday, gently handing it over.

You blink as he saunters back to the truck, almost don’t notice Ghost standing sentinel right beside you.

“Huh,” you muse, finding him watching you. “Who d’you think ordered me flowers?”

He makes a little “ruff” noise. You snort and close the door. It’s a beautiful arrangement, you must admit. All your favorites. It even came in a vase!

You inhale the sweet scent and sigh, unable to keep from smiling. Usually you think flower arrangements are a bit silly, so expensive for something that will last so little time. But it’s been ages since you last got one and someone clearly put thought into it.

You offer each of the pups a sniff, laughing when Konig sneezes a bit. You set the vase on the kitchen counter where it won’t become a casualty of any enthusiastic tails and you’ll get to look at it regularly. Try to look for a card but there isn’t one.

Hopefully, whoever sent it will reveal themselves by asking if you like it.

You settle on the couch again with a lingering smile, scratching at Ghost’s ears when he presses his face against your shoulder.

Another hour passes in peace when there’s another knock at the door. Again, the dogs stay eerily quiet. This time, you’re greeted with a huge bag of items.

You unpack it on the couch, Johnny sitting by your knee. A new plush blanket, a pretty mug, a video game you’ve heard good things about, the next book on your reading list, your favorite candies, and even an expensive new pair of headphones (since Johnny ruined your last ones).

You let him sniff curiously at each item, amused by his involvement in your gift unwrapping.

“Wow,” you breathe, staring at your pile of gifts. “This is more than I’ve gotten in years. I don’t even know what to do with it all.”

You start by eating some of the candies. Johnny’s tail wags furiously the entire time, even when you remind him that candy is Not For Him.

At some point in all the craziness, Konig’s scurried off somewhere. Not surprising, you figure. All the guests must have made him shy. He’s not a fan of really anyone but you.

Eventually he returns, though, and you’re sure to welcome him back with praises and kisses before he climbs into his spot. You happily return to your show, scratching absently at your snuggly pack.

Just around noon, there’s one last knock at the door. Your favorite takeout place, including a box of the really good German pastries that you never let yourself get more than once every other week. Fresh baked too!

You hum happily as you eat, wishing you knew who to thank for it.

“I feel utterly spoiled,” you laugh as you save the rest of the pastries for later. “I definitely don’t deserve all this.”

A deep bark nearly startles you. Konig. He hardly ever makes a peep!

“Listen to you, baby!” you coo, wiggling your fingers to entice him closer. He comes to your side instantly, chin on your stomach, staring up at you with big mismatched eyes. “Such a lovely voice. Ich liebe dich, Herr Konig.”

He wags happily at you, a big, silly canine grin on his face. When you duck down to hug him, he leaves kisses all over your face and neck.

By evening, you’re in a good enough mood that you’re not completely dreading the visit to your parents’ house. You get dressed, kiss each of your boys goodbye, and leave.

It’s not… bad per se. Sure, your mom makes your sister’s favorite meal, and your dad doesn’t even realize why you’re there at first. Your sister’s husband also keeps making weird comments about you being single and your biological “clock” but—

Well, you’re just there for dinner. At least your mom made homemade cookies; a classic you’ve always enjoyed. But not even that is enough to make you stay longer than absolutely necessary, making your excuses that Konig still gets separation anxiety.

The drive home is long and you feel exhausted from putting on the “grateful daughter” song and dance. When you pull up to the house, though, you perk up when you see another package.

It’s a… basket? You carry it inside, too dark to see what it is on the porch. Immediately greeted by the boys, you don’t get a chance to look at it at first. But once you do…

It’s a self care basket, you think. A ridiculously nice bottle of wine, a bath bomb, body cream, sugar scrub… a bottle of the lube you always use. New lingerie. A toy. Not just any toy either. One you’ve been putting off buying because it’s close to a hundred pounds and you’ve got three big boys to feed.

At first you think it’s your ex but…. No. No, everything in this basket is things you’d pick for yourself. Things he never knew you well enough to buy. And he’s too cheap besides - and too much of a stuck up dick to ever dream of patronizing adult toys.

You hesitate over it. But….. well, you’ve already brought it inside. Doesn’t matter if you use any of it or not; and it’s stupid to let it go to waste.

So you feed the dogs and wander to your room.

And it. Is. Decadent.

You linger in the bathtub for way too long, giggling at the sparkles in the water, sipping wine and nibbling on German pastries. Even sacrificed one of the roses from the bouquet to let the petals float in the water. Start the first couple chapters of your birthday book, sigh and talk nonsense to your boys, all of them lingering in the doorway but behaving.

And when you finally get to bed, you run the battery out achieving your “birthday orgasms”. (Remain shockingly uninterrupted by any of the boys.)

Sometime before midnight your dream of gentle hands cleaning you up, pressing kisses everywhere. Voices whispering “love you” and “happy birthday”.

It’s the best one to date.

(Again, happy borfday!! I love you and I hope this was a good gift 💕)

Main Story | Konig pt.2 | Price pt.1

Masterlist

[hazelsmirrorball]

F1 Elementary | Teacher! Oscar Piastri x Teacher! Reader

summary: It's Halloween in Box elementary and Oscar decides it's a good idea to play secret admirer and finally make a move with one of the teachers.

pairings: teacher!oscar piastri x teacher!reader

a/n: Excuse any errors english isn’t my main language. This is based off Abbott Elementary. If it's in bold it's a confesional.

 The bell rang loudly, filling the halls mixing with the loud voices of the kids that were heading towards their classrooms. The teachers patiently waited outside the door greeting every single kid that entered. The hallways were different from their day to day. Miss L/n had stayed all night up decorating the halls to make them spooky for halloween. People could probably say that she could be a little bit of an overdoer. Spiders webs, spiders, pumpkins, bats surrounded the hallways, clinging towards the halloween aesthetic scaring a few of the kids. 

"Hi! I'm principal Norris. I still don't know how I ended up ruling this school but might I say I love it here. I’m the literal king of this school, everyone does what I say, it’s like I direct them or something. There’s a lot of perks of working at Box elementary,  Hot teachers, smart kids and the paycheck. Being a principal is the best, so I welcome you to my lovely kingdom. But enough about me, let’s talk about my untalented and ugly staff so you guys can see what I have to work with everyday. Look, there we have one of our annoying second grade teachers, Y/n. I'll leave you guys to it and let me say if you need more beauty shots, I'll be in my office" Lando said while tilting his crown down sending a kiss towards the camera. He turns to the left and the camera slowly follows him walking towards one of the students eating a lollipop. Lando  quickly takes it out of her hand and eats it himself. He walks away leaving the kindergartener alone crying in the halls. 

"Hello!! I'm Y/n L/n. But around here everyone calls me Miss L/n. I've been teaching second grade here for about four years now and honestly it's a blast. I love the kids, I love the school, I love my coworkers, I love the classes, I love my mood ...Sorry l am rambling but in my defense it's one of the best holidays of the year. Halloween!  and this year is different because we got the opportunity to dress up. They also let me put the whole school in halloween decor. All the kids are so excited to wear their little costumes and eat candies. That’s why I had to step up my game. Guess what I am? No? Okay. Well I’m a bumblebee cause people say I’m sweet like honey and sometimes that is annoying, but that’s nobody's buzzness. Did you get the joke? Did you understand?  Because I am dressed as a bee? I know you got it, I see that smile on your lips, cameraman. Anyway, let me just get to the point, I teach second grade and around here we all love to have fun. Do you want a Frankenstein cupcake? I made them myself" She said with a huge grin stretching out her hand with a cupcake toward the cameramen while the kids in the background made cute cupcakes. Her face was covered in frosting and her costume was covered in glitter. 

Oscar Piastri, smiled as he excitedly greeted his first graders, exclaiming proudly “happy halloween ” as they entered the classroom, His  Mark Webber  costume intact. He watched as his little students entered the classroom all giggly while holding onto buckets filled with candies he had personally requested them to bring so they could exchange with their classmates. When the last student entered, his eyes trailed towards the end of the hall where he could see Y/n L/n handing her kids a lollipop while they entered. Oscar stared at her in aw, as she did a dance battle with one of the kids that was dressed as a hip hop dancer. Y/n stinger got caught on the door making her fall back as all the kids from her class ran up to her to help her up. She shook them off by saving countless thank you’s. Y/n threw her head back laughing at her kids following the action as Oscar stayed in his place being starstruck by her beauty. Oscar waited a few seconds to catch her eye and waved at her with a soft smile which Y/n happily returned. Being lost by the sudden interaction Oscar couldn’t feel the small child tugging on the side of his pants trying to get his attention. 

“Mr. Oscar! You are staring at Miss L/n again. You said staring at people was rude” The child exclaimed quite loudly making Oscar jump up and panick. He quickly crouched down to be at the same level as the kid. 

“Alex, what did we say about yelling?” Oscar said softly, trying to push back his flushed face. Alex looked down towards his shoes shaking his head. 

“That we shouldn’t do it. I’m sorry Mr. Oscar. I was trying to get your attention because I needed to tell you something but you were looking at Miss L/n. I heard that in their class they are making cupcakes today. What are we going to do? It’s Halloween we should do something fun” Alex said, raising his head and grinning excitedly towards Oscar. Oscar mirrored his expression. 

“Well, I talked to Principal Norris and he said we could race cars outside. So after we exchange candies right after recess we can race” Oscar said resting his hands on his shoulder grinning. Alex quickly squealed in excitement jumping up and down. Oscar followed his actions moving side to side. “Wait, what did you need to tell me that was so urgent?” Oscar said quickly remembering what were his true intentions. 

“I actually don’t remember” Alex said, making a thinking face. 

"Mister Oscar!  Jeremy is kicking me again" a kid screamed from inside the classroom making Oscar quickly enter the room to detain the fiasco before it got worse. Jeremy was quite the fighter and he didn’t feel like cleaning up blood today. 

Oscar Piastri didn't expect to like being a teacher as much as he did but now after being a  teacher for about a year, he was starting to get the hang of things. He enjoyed the kids' presence, they made things actually fun for him and the best thing, aside from the kids, was Y/n L/n. Having Y/n around made the teaching experience quite refreshing. She was around the same age as Oscar  but she had been teaching there for about four years just like her close friend and English teacher, Logan Sargent. Oscar had tried several times to get in their little group but it was quite hard for him to click with the teachers. It wasn’t that they were mean or anything, it was the fact that they didn’t take the rookie teacher seriously. Adding to the fact that Oscar wasn’t the best when getting social clues, for some people, it felt like they were talking to a child while they were talking to Oscarl. 

“Mister Piastri, I wanted to inform you that the camera crew just got here today, so don't be surprised if they catch your fine ass. You look quite attractive with that, costume." Principal Norris said, peeking his head through the door. Oscar  turned around with a scared look on his face seeing Lando wiggle his eyebrows at him. Oscar’s hands dropped stopping the two kids that were originally fighting. 

"Excuse me?" Oscar asked, raising an eyebrow at Lando making him wink at Oscar. 

"I'm just playing but remember that they...Oh look they are here now! Here we have Mr. Oscar Piastri. He teaches first grade and he's been working here for about a year, yet he can barely get a hold of his class but we are working on it. So enjoy your time with him. The hottest teacher in the school. Bye" he exclaimed while he left Oscar standing agape in the hallway with a camera crew filming straight at him. Oscar quickly took his glasses off, cleaning them on his pants nervously while the kids screamed as loud as they could in the back of the class, the kids once again starting their fight.

“First of all, I'm not the hottest teacher here, I'll leave that to Charles and second of all I have perfect control of my kids. Didn’t you guys catch on camera me stopping the fight? " Oscar exclaimed defensively while putting on his glasses and looking at the camera clearly stressed. His hair was now messy pointing to several directions as his  breath was unsteady. 

"Mr. Oscarl! Help me, Jeremy is still pulling my hair now" a kid yelled from the back of the class quickly gaining Oscar’s attention. He quickly ran towards the back of the class and the camera crew quickly behind him. Oscar tried pulling Jeremy off one of the other kids but he wouldn't move.

"Jeremiah, let go!" Oscar said while falling desperately to get his attention. 

"I'm not letting go Osc! She bit me with her stupid vampire teeth" Jeremiah yelled, still not letting go of his grip becoming stronger. 

"First, I told you even though you are stronger than me to call me Mr. Oscar. Second of all, we said no bad words in the classroom and that included the word stupid.  Now let's just try to be in a loving mood, it's Halloween, don't you guys want to be in a loving mood?!" Oscar asked desperately, trying to convince the kids to let go of each other. All the kids around them were unphased by the interaction, exchanging candies while the fiasco unfolds.

"NO!" Both of the kids exclaim pushing Oscar down towards the floor. He closed his eyes in pain waiting for a few seconds for the floor to eat him alive. He let out a sigh, dragging himself to one of the classroom doors praying that someone, beside Lando or Y/n, would help him out. 

"How are you kids so strong?! Verstappen!  Verstappen please, please help me. Verstappen I know you can see me" Oscar exclaimed as he gripped on the side of the door from the floor. He reached forward holding his leg desperately not wanting him to move. Verstappen stopped dead in his tracks staring down at Oscar with pity. His eyes were nearly covered in tears as he begged him to come and help. Verstappen looked towards the break room as he turned his back from it, taking a step into the classroom but not before quickly rolling his eyes at Oscar. Instantly the kids stopped fighting while the ones that were exchanging candies  sat down hiding their sweets.

"How?" Oscar mouthed to the camera while watching the kids stay like statues with Verstappen.

"I'm  Max Verstappen. Please do not associate me with the principal or I will call the authorities against you. If it were my decision, I would have been principal and I would have said no to this little filming festival you have going around here. But since l am not principal, I have to answer your dumb questions.  I am the other second grade teacher here at Box elementary. The only person I don't get annoyed at in this school is possibly Oscar. He isn't the worst teacher in the world but he isn't the greatest. Kids here can be little shits but I have them under control. Oscar on the other hand doesn't. He lacks control and I truly believe he's one of the kids."  Verstappen said to the camera while moving to the side to let into view a giggling Oscar Piastri exchanging his candies  with his students excitedly.

Meanwhile, Logan and Carlos  walked together to the break lounge ready to eat their lunch and enjoy their break. Both of them worked on the second floor with the middle school kids and they were exhausted.

"Good evening, I'm Logan and I teach seventh grade english. I've been in this school for four years and quite frankly still don't know why I've stayed so long."

Carlos sat down taking his food out of his neatly prepared lunch box while Logan took his mug to serve himself some coffee. Both of them took in the wonderful peace and quiet that surrounded the break lounge, something that it always lacked. But the peace and quiet was interrupted by the door slamming open and a visually alarmed Oscar  coming through, Verstappen following behind shortly after.

"I'm so done with those little pieces of sh.. You"  Oscar took a deep breath pointing at the cameramen. "Stop following me with those stupid cameras. You're making me seem like I'm a bad teacher” he said while his eyes twitched, making Logan hide a chuckle with a cough. He continued to drink his coffee attempting to calm himself.

"I don't think they're making you seem like a bad teacher, maybe you're just being one” Carlos  responded while taking a bite of his sandwich making Logan  "cough" even louder.

"Carlos.  I came to this school the same time Oscar Piastri did and it still surprises me that he is still here. There were fifty new teachers and surprisingly the only two left are Oscar Piastri  and me, I thought he was going to be the first one to leave, yet here he is, still struggling and still not getting the hang of it" Carlos said to the camera while fixing the nonexistent wrinkles of his button up shirt.

"Well, I have you know I am a great teacher! My students say it to me all the time when I get emotional. I bet you don’t even cry with your students. My students and I had a Halloween party, something that didn't even cross your mind to have today. We exchanged candies, had a dance party and watched movies. They love me. I love them. And all you did was bore you kids to death today, I suppose. What did you do? Make them read" Oscar responded angrily while looking at the peaceful Carlos. 

"Actually, yes. We read about the history behind witches. Something you can actually do to learn since you come to school to learn not to party. But I guess you didn't get the memo since all you did was go to frat parties in college" he said taking another bite of his sandwich.

"Jokes on you I wasn't even in a frat. But I just know your kids wanted lollipops and by the way I gave my kids lollipops and none of them threw them at each other so I believe that's progress" Oscar said proudly while looking in the fridge giving his back to the teachers letting them see the back part of his robes covered in lollipops.

"Congrats! You are getting better, Piastri. I am really proud” Logan  applauded while placing his cup of coffee down.

“But I don't think you should get your kids hopes up with Halloween. You should show them the gory things that I showed mine today. Real, scary, halloween movies. When they’ll get older they will thank you for teaching them how to survive a psycho. ” Verstappen responded while sitting next to Carlos.

"Aren't your kids seven?" Carlos asked, concerned, raising an eyebrow at Verstappen.

"And your point is, Carlos Jr.?" Verstappen asked while taking a sip of his black coffee. 

“I already told you, my name isn't Carlos Jr., it's just Carlos" he said seriously while glaring at the man.

"I will not stop spreading love in my classroom.I love Halloween and no one and I mean no one  loves Halloween more than me" Oscar exclaimed sitting down with his arms crossed. 

"Hellooo fellow teachers!" Y/n exclaimed throwing flower petals in the air while entering the break room. 

"I highly doubt it" Logan responded while looking at his best friend, dressed up in her vibrant yellow costume. She was holding onto a basket filled with sweets while her wings neatly placed on her back. Her hair wasn't styled as usual, instead it was pulled back in two braids with her antennas.

"Happy Halloween to you, and you, and you" She said, handing a beautifully devoted Halloween box to each of her coworkers.

Carlos smiled softly, Logan whispered a thanks and Verstappen rolled his eyes, but deep down he loved it. Y/n headed towards Oscar giving him a bigger box than the rest. Oscar blushed hard, taking in the gift in his hand while Y/n placed down her things. 

"Thank you, Y/n. I appreciate it a lot" he said smiling softly but his smile got wider when she sat next to him.

"You're welcome Oscar! By the way, I love your red bull costume. I really like the redbull drink. A lot of my students dressed the same. It looks cute" she said, playing with the ends of Oscar’s long sleeve . 

“Actually, Y/n. Oscar’s dressed as An...” Verstappen started but quickly got cut off by Oscar slamming his hand against the table. 

"Thank you, Y/n! I was trying really hard for that can look. I really like your bee costume. I know everyone was buzzing about it” he said excitedly while trying to hide his  blush. Y/n threw her head laughing hitting Oscar’s shoulder softly making Oscar blush more if it even was possible.  

"Thank you! I wanted to go all out today, I heard that the party was going to be the bomb.” Y/n said winking towards Oscar which made him grin excitedly. 

“You know about that?” Oscar asked confusedly, while taking his food out of his bag. 

“Yeah! My kids were telling me about some big plan you have after recess. I was so excited for the afternoon party I forgot to bring lunch" She smiled at her while opening a water bottle and looking down at her notes to fix anything that was incorrect for the party the school was throwing later today.

"Here, have my sandwich" Oscar exclaimed quickly, planting the sandwich next to her. She looked up from her paper shaking her head.

“Don't worry about it Oscar. You should eat, I can wait until later.” She responded by trying to hand it back at him but he shook his head.

"Have it, I'm not even hungry" Oscar said smiling softly while shrugging trying not to worry her.

"Thank you Oscar! I owe you one" Y/n said, taking a bite while Logan looked at the camera suspiciously while drinking his coffee.

"What? I'm not hungry. My stomach is filled with brownies, candies and cupcakes. Plus the cupcake I had this morning, if Y/n’s hungry I wouldn't mind giving her my food!! Or anyone not necessarily her, I give my food to everyone that wants it, look. Here have this kiwi" Oscar exclaimed while taking out the kiwi he was previously eating and handing it in to a kid that was passing by. The kid stared at Oscar weirdly before continuing walking.

"So,what are you guys doing tonight? Anything special planned in this spooky evening" Oscar asked, trying to change the subject while they all peacefully ate. Everyone stayed quiet but Oscar anxiously taped his finger on the round table making Carlos groan and speak up.

"Well, since you're being nosy, I rented out a movie theater to watch movies tonight with my girlfriend” Carlos responded, closing his book. Y/n squealed, turning to him with a smile. "It was so romantic. What did you get?" Carlos asked, directing himself to Y/n, but she simply shrugged.

“The kids gave me some beautifully made cupcakes, those that count?" She asked sitting next to him, Verstappen laughed making the two stare at him.

“It's sad that you want that to count," he said, taking another sip of his coffee.

“Don't listen to Max, he's just jealous the kids didn't give him anything because they are scared of him” Carlos said, rolling his eyes as Y/n fixed her posture awkwardly. 

"My kids love me, they know my second grade class is the superior one and they did get me sweets. I just don't like them" Verstappen responded, getting a bag of candy and throwing it on the table leaving Carlos in shock.

"Well, maybe you'll get something later, the night is still young" Oscar said suspiciously while looking at the camera with a smirk. As if it were by cue a delivery man opens the door holding a big strawberry bouquet.

“Delivery for Y/n L/n” the delivery man said while reading the card. Y/n excitedly got up taking it in her hands and placing it down on the table picking the card to see from who it was. She quickly smiled at the delivery man saying thanks before he left. All the teachers looked at the bouquet waiting for her to say who it was from.

"Who is it from?" Oscar  asked while standing next to her with a huge grin on his face.

"It says spooky berries from a secret admirer, " she said, picking a strawberry and eating it.

Logan, Carlos and Verstappen stood outside in the hallways with the camera crew Filming them.

"It was Oscar" the trio said at the same time while rolling their eyes.

"This is beautiful! The person that got me this has to know me really well, I love chocolate covered strawberries. They are literally the best thing to ever exist on this planet"

" You see! I know her well!! I got her that gift and went all out! I'm proud of my hard work and the smile on her face is to die for. So ha! I win Halloween" Oscar exclaimed happily at the camera while grinning.

"Breaks over, I need my teachers in their classrooms so they can take the kids to that dumb party Y/n’s making" Lando said entering the lounge and getting himself some coffee.

"Nothing you can do will ruin my mood today, Lando. So I will take that as a compliment" She responded, taking a picture of the strawberries.

"You got yourself that gift? That's sad, even for you L/n" Lando responded while taking a sip of the drink.

"Actually, it was a secret admirer," she responded, not even looking at him.

"Oscar, it was Oscar" Lando said, looking at the camera in the hallway while taking a bite of a strawberry he had taken from Y/n's gift.

"Also how are you guys enjoying the reality show we have going on here?" Lando asked, winking at the camera.

"I feel watched and stalked" Verstappen responded seriously.

"I didn't ask you. Oscar?" Lando turned his head towards Oscar who started to pick up his things so he could head back to his classroom. 

"This isn't a reality show Lando. it's a documentary for schools with poor funding so I don't think we should be proud of that” he said while standing up and putting his tote bag on his shoulder. 

"You know what I'm not proud of, the fact I haven't received my Valentine's Day gift yet" Lando said only for him to hear. Oscar shivers while looking at him with the same expression as before. "Now everyone chop chop. We don't have all day" he continued while applauding obnoxiously.

Everyone started leaving the teachers lounge leaving Oscar to himself to open the box Y/n had given him, he slowly opened the box and opened his eyes wide when he saw the gift.

"Oh, I've known about Oscars' crush ever since he started working here. But I love seeing the reactions he does when he thinks I don't know a thing about the little gestures he does for me. That's why I decided that I should give something back" Y/n said smiling to the camera holding the gift she had received from him. In the background you could see Oscar dancing excitedly and when Y/n turned around to look at him, he froze waving at her trying to act cool which Y/n responded with a smile while quickly turning to her classroom.

Oscar looked at his kids jumping up and down at the party and he smiled. He looked at the camera men and then down at his hands.

"I'm going on a date today" He said screaming while joining his kids in a dance battle.

Logan looked at Oscar and then at his best friend from the other side of the school gym and smiled softly at her.

"You asked him out, didn't you?" Logan asked, looking at Y/n.

"Yes, I think he’s cute." She responded while looking at the dancing Oscar. Both of them looked at how Oscar huddled up with the kids pushing a car to make the kids star driving. A few seconds in, a kid “runs’ over another ones leg making them cry.

“I though he meant toy cars?! Seven year olds don’t have diverse license”  

[pedgito]

summary | using your neighbors address for deliveries doesn’t seem like the worst idea until you find yourself with a world of dilemmas and a burgeoning crush on the single dad who lives there. [10k+]

pairing | pre-outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader

content warning | 18+ content, as always: no explicit use of y/n, reader is a teacher (only for loose plot purposes) meet-weirds, a cliche stranger neighbors to pining lovers take on pre-outbreak joel, lots of sweet interactions with sarah, joel's internal struggles to be a good dad, awkward interactions & flirting, soft sexual content (oral, protected sex, joel talking you through it like a gentleman)

author’s note | this came from a prompt i saw (ignore that actual legality issues of this, it's just for fun) that was meant to be a quick blurb but turned into this monster of porn with plot…i regret nothing, enjoy! or don’t that’s fine

↝ other fics | requests? | ao3

To be clear, this wasn’t the first route you took to avoid the problem. And for whatever reason, fate or be it some other evil, unseen force, it always stuck you in the awkwardest positions. 

It also didn’t help that your mailman was probably the judgiest person on this earth, despite it not being his business, the suspicious amount of packages and content of said packages were enough to garner a few looks and even the occasional mumble under his breath.

So, when you start to put down your neighbors address for all of your future packages, it doesn’t seem like a problem.

He’s gone a lot anyways, his truck only pulling once the sun has already set and you’re laying in bed, bright headlights cascading against the walls through your upstairs window. His exhaust kicks off a couple times and it always rouses you from your sleep just enough to annoy you. He's hardly there, it's fine. You've got nothing to worry about.

You’ve only caught a glimpse of him in the morning, a young woman prancing at his side as she hops into the passenger seat. Her name is Sarah.

As for him, he was Dad. 

You’ve been here for three months and haven’t made any attempt to be neighborly or make friends, yet you were brave enough to slip his address onto your order forms and go on about your day. 

And, in your defense, it works well. 

Packages always arrive around the time you’re pulling into your driveway, the perfect opportunity before the trail of buses traverse through the cul de sac and flush out the rowdy kids from their seats. 

A quick jog over and you’re snatching up the package without any inclination that something is amiss.

Until again, it becomes a problem.

Not even a problem, really—but it’s still a weird conversation to have, standing at your neighbors doorstep with a package in your hand and looking like some porch pirate with bad manners, if that was even possible.

He was home, but that wasn’t the issue. It was Saturday, a small overlook when you placed your order last week that led you to the position you were in now, staring down the man with your package clutched in his hands.

“This yours?” He asks, an eyebrow raising inquisitively. The contents shake as he holds it up.

“Yeah.” You start, sounding unsure of yourself, “I accidentally gave them the wrong address, didn’t realize until it was already shipped and I’ve been waitin’ all week.”

He didn’t need the explanation, but he lets you speak until your heart’s content, taking a quick glance at the label on the box.

He says your name, double checking to make sure it was you. You nod, extending a friendly hand. 

“I’m sorry.” You apologize. It’s sweet, clipped, believable enough that he doesn’t try to implore further.

He finally hands the box over, not a word on your tongue as you fetch the package and retreat back to your home with your heart racing like it was going to burst out of your chest.

You’re already long gone by the time the smirk reaches Joel’s face, a sudden glance back at his daughter. Sarah is laughing from the couch, the noise muffled behind her hand.

“Maybe she’s flirting with you.” 

Joel huffs at that, a warm laugh bubbling from his chest. 

“Darlin’, I doubt that.”

“That’s the sixth package that’s been sent here.” Sarah adds, “I’m not orderin’ anything. Are you?”

Joel gives her a look that answers itself.

“Then?”

Things are smooth sailing for another couple weeks, but the shared secret between Joel and Sarah is unbeknownst to you.

 So, smooth sailing for you, you think. 

Joel drags it out until another day when he’s free from work, waiting for those footsteps to reach his porch, a quick nudge from Sarah that has him standing from his comfortable spot on the couch as she moves away from his shoulder.

But, they never come.

And Joel doesn’t know why that sends a surge of confused worry down his spine, but it’s out of the norm. He should check on you.

Sarah's the one to remind him of it.

“Take it over there.” It startles Joel, her ability to sneak up on him so easily. His brow furrows, flipping the package in his grip after he finally opened the door and gave in. 

“Go.” 

Sarah’s practically shoving him out of the door before he can refuse. 

When Joel reaches your front door he can already see you, arm tucked under your head, resting over the arm of your couch as you napped silently, the soft hum of the television muffled by the front door. Joel knocks once, a softer and gentler attempt than he’d usually go for, and when that doesn’t work he goes for the latter, one solid knock that could surely wake you.

It doesn’t.

Joel leans over the trimmed hedge resting underneath the window sill and taps on the glass, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding when you finally wake. 

It takes you a moment to adjust, but your eyes are stretching like saucers when your blurry vision becomes clear. 

“Shit, shit,” Joel hears the tail end of it as you open the door, “—I’m so—“

“Look I’m not judgin’” He begins, handing the package over without question, “but seein’ as you’re using my address, it would be nice if you clued me in.”

Your mouth opens slightly, wondering how in the hell you could explain this. Joel catches wind of your uncertainty.

“My daughter’s pretty observant,” He scratches at his forehead idly, shoving his other hand into his front pocket, “and I’ve noticed it for about a month now—m’just curious.”

“Uh, okay—how do I explain this?” You ask aloud, placing the package on a nearby surface. “I order a lot of stuff for work. Like, more than normal. It’s a bunch of different things, sometimes a little odd, I guess?”

Joel flashes a grin of amusement, subtle, but there. He nods, urging you to continue.

“Our mail guy kept giving me weird looks—not like it’s his job to judge but I haven’t been here long, the last thing I needed was someone spreadin’ word around the neighbhorhood.”

It was a small community, tight knit. It was a reasonable defense, but Joel kept quiet.

“I’m sure he thinks I’m a psychopath, but I figured maybe putting your address down and pickin’ them up after would help. I mean, it did for a while, but—It was a stupid idea, I'm sorry.“

“What’s in the box?” Joel asks curiously.

It catches you off-guard, blinking a few times as you glance over at the package.

“Uh, pipe cleaners. You know, the craft ones. All different colors.”

“And what about the other ones?”

It was justifiable, the questions he had.

“Huh, um—lots of paint, some rolls of tape, rope, these little face masks for the kids to work on for the town carnival next week. I can keep going but...I don't think you'd find it that interesting.”

“You’re…a teacher?” Joel assumes.

You don’t realize until half a second later that you’d slipped up so easily. 

“Yeah, first grade.”

“Well, I don’t mind it, but don’t worry about that kid.” Joel tells you, “We’ve been workin’ on that street by the office for a few weeks and he’s always causin’ some type of trouble. If anything, I can talk to the boss up there, let ‘em know.”

“It’s fine, there’s no need for all that.”

“Well, just trying to be neighborly,” Joel shrugs, and the smile that breaks through, one that you can see, is something indescribable, “I can help you out and have Sarah drop the packages off when she can, unless I happen to catch it before she does to save you a trip.”

“You’re okay with me using your address still?” You ask, a little perturbed.

“Don’t see why not, it’s not hurting anyone.” Joel responds, “And if it saves you a few minutes of feelin’ embarrassed.”

“I don’t know, this is pretty embarrassing too.”

Joel doesn’t seem bothered, shaking his head with the corners of his mouth downturned. 

“You’re fine, again—it’s harmless.”

You nod slowly, relenting to his unusual politeness. You weren’t sure southern hospitality was a real thing, but there he was, standing on two legs before you. 

“Thank you, uh—“

“Joel.” He answers for you, “Probably should’ve started with that.”

And putting a name to a face had never been more satisfying. 

“Thank you, Joel.” You repeat once more, name rolling off your tongue foreignly, smiling nonetheless. 

“If you need anything we’re just across the way,” Joel jabs his thumb in the direction of his home, “as much as Sarah loves the Adlers', she might end up clingin’ to you if you let her get to know you.”

Unfortunately for Joel, he’s sealing his own fate by speaking it into existence.

He leaves without a word, waving a quick goodbye over his shoulder as his boots scuff against pavement. 

The deep, shaky breath you let out is a reminder that being in new places, trying new things, forming new relationships, wasn’t always a bad thing.

Sarah greets you with a big smile the first day she catches a package before you, opening with a line you don’t expect. 

“Do you have markers, by chance?”

She’s all sunshine and adolescent innocence, eyes too wide and unguarded from the world—it’s an effect of Joel’s obvious overprotectiveness he feels toward her. He’s shielded her from so much, though if you asked Joel, not enough. 

“I do,” You answer with an airiness to your voice, “whaddya say, fair trade—my package for the markers?”

“Sure.” She nods, handing over the box.

You disappear briefly, the heels of her converse teetering on your doorstep, a gentle rock back and forth as she curiously peers inside your home.

It’s fairly boring, but it’s home. That’s all that matters to you. 

“Just try to get them back to me when you’re done?” It’s not so much a demand, handing the pack over to the young girl. “No rush, take them as long as you need ‘em.”

“Yeah, I will!” She responds cheerfully. “I’ve been reminding my dad for a few days but he works a lot, forgets things—are all adults that bad at remembering?”

“Some of us have a lot on our mind,” You shrug, speaking candidly, “You know what—just keep those.”

“Are you sure?” She asks warily, “I didn’t mean to, like, guilt you or anything—“

“No, no.” You assure her, “It helps you both out, that way your dad won’t have to worry about it anymore.”

“Okay.” Sarah responds wistfully, glancing back as the sound of Joel’s truck inches up the street. Joel is pulling the toolbox out of his truck bed when Sarah calls out loudly, “Dad!” shaking the boxed markers in the air.

“She hustle you for those?” Joel calls out, eyes connecting with you. “Sarah, we talked about this—“

“She did not,” Still, the implication earns a laugh from both of you, “they’re free, less for you to worry about.”

And it stings a little, but Joel hides it well. 

“Don’t let her fool you,” Joel warns, “She’s just as evil as she is sweet.” 

The smile that stretches across Sarah’s face is telling in its own right.

There’s a month of nice, minimal interaction with your neighbors. The Adler's bake too much, always offering up baked goods to the surrounding houses, yours included. You always end up with the extra oatmeal raisins because Sarah despises them and apparently, so does Joel.

Sometimes you catch Sarah at the front door or outside, kicking her soccer ball around or waiting on the steps for her father, even into the later hours of the night. Sometimes it’s Joel, who always ends up at your doorstep rather than you at his. 

Joel likes to ask about your day, a polite but awkward attempt at small talk.

He hasn’t tried talking to anyone since Sarah’s mom, it felt forced—but he was trying, even if it was nearly impossible to get through some days.

Joel talked a lot about Sarah, or work, occasionally bringing up his brother Tommy—he works with him too. You’ve seen him a few times and finally put another name to another face, and he's younger than Joel by five years, closer to your own age. Joel opens up little by little, day by day, completely by his own doing despite how little you talk about yourself.

Joel enjoys the way you always have a smile on your face despite how your morning goes, always hanging on to his words like they're the most interesting thing you've heard in a while. He enjoys having someone to talk to that isn't family or people who he's obligated to converse with to get himself through the day. It's the first time he's really started to go out of his own way to get to know someone.

It’s late Friday night when you end up at his doorstep, dressed in some thin pajamas to combat that Texas heat and humidity—nighttime somehow felt worse, the bugs pricking at your bare legs and the material sticking to your skin.

Your package should’ve arrived today and you didn’t see it outside—but a quick glance through the open entrance, albeit guarded by a screen door, showed that it was sitting right there on their kitchen table.

You knock on the glass pane lightly.

“Dad!” Sarah calls out from somewhere you can’t see, “Door!”

“You can’t get it?” He shouts back, also nowhere to be seen.

“I’m busy!”

You chuckle to yourself, hearing Joel's gruff, “Like I ain’t!”

Sarah’s silence is answer enough.

“Shit—“ It’s a gruff noise, stuck deep in Joel’s gravelly undertone, “hold on!”

Joel’s pulling his shirt over his head as he rounds the corner, leaving you a small glimpse of the tan skin underneath. He relaxes when he realizes it's you.

“Just come in,” Joel says, “you’re probably getting eaten up out there.”

And truly, you’ve never been more thankful.

Joel opens the door to let you pass, the strong scent of fresh body wash invading your senses, his hair still wet from the shower.

“M’sorry, I was gonna bring it by later.” Joel apologizes, “I got off a little earlier tonight and wanted to grab a shower.”

He’s handing you the box with a calculated movement, flicking his watch over his wrist as he secures it, glancing at you briefly.

“Should I guess?” Joel asks.

“Uh—“

“The box.” He clarifies.

You decide to tease him a little, head tilted slightly as you grin, “You’d be guessin’ for a while.”

Joel hums a small noise, fidgeting with watch as he shifts it into place before standing with his hands resting against his hips.

“Uh, let’s see—clay?” 

Not a terrible guess. An odd one to go for on the first try, though.

“God no, that would be everywhere.”

“Those creepy little eyes?”

“Googly eyes?” You correct with a faint laugh, “No, but that’s definitely been one of the packages I’ve ordered lately. The kids love them.”

“I give up.” Joel says in defeat, hands raising up slightly before slapping down at his sides. A rather quick win on your part.

“They’re seeds, for flowers.” You tell him, “We’re going over photosynthesis right now. All that boring stuff about plants and how they grow but the kids are more excited to play with dirt for a couple hours.”

Joel nods slowly, thoughtfully, top lip disappearing behind his bottom in a pout of thoughtfulness.

“Invite her over already!”

Joel sighs, rubbing his palm over his beard as he scratches lightly.

“If you don’t I will.” She adds.

You don’t have to see her face to know that smile. She was evil, and damn was she good at it. 

“Right, uh—“

“No, please don’t feel obligated,” If anything, it made you feel like more of a bother, “my feelings won’t be hurt.”

“No, I was—I planned on asking.” Joel admits, “Just kept forgettin’.”

That and he didn’t know to casually bring it up in conversation.

Point one, Sarah. Joel, zero.

“They’re throwin’ a little party for my birthday. Just a cookout is all, gonna have food, beers—is that somethin’ you’re into?”

Joel feels ridiculous, a grown man in his mid-thirties and sweating over the prospect of inviting a woman over.

“I can be.” 

Your smile is relaxed, reaching your eyes in the way that makes them squint a little.

You can smell the fresh soap and spice of his cologne from this distance, a welcomed change from his usual worn, dirty state—not that you hated it, but Joel did clean up nice.  

“Great, tomorrow at 7?”

“6!” Sarah quickly corrects, sounding exhausted.

Joel rolls his eyes, a sign of an also very tired father.

The snort of laugh slips out before you can hide it, slapping your hand over your mouth in embarrassment.

“Uh, I’ll just show up somewhere in between, how about that?”

Joel seems unfazed, fighting against his own grin as he nods. 

He forgets to tell you goodnight as you leave, something that doesn’t even cross your mind, but to him, feels like a missed opportunity. 

“So out of your league, brother.” Tommy whistles lowly, shaking his head in disbelief as he flips the half-cooked burger on the grill. “Shit—explain it to me again, actually.”

“She sends her packages here,” Joel’s short, to the point. “s’not much to explain, Tommy.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Tommy counters.

Joel shrugs.

“What the hell’ve you done with my brother?” Tommy jokes lightly, earning a half-hearted shove from Joel.

Tommy’s eyes flick toward you briefly, helping Sarah in the kitchen as she ices the cake. Sarah smiles at whatever you’re saying, your back turned to both of the men.

“Don’t act like you’d be lettin’ slide for just anyone. How well do you know her?”

“Well enough,” Joel shrugs, “Sarah likes her, probably a little too much.”

Truth be told, Joel didn’t know much about you at all. But, he wanted too. Tommy saw right through it, but he didn't push Joel. He knew better.

“Careful,” He warns with a soft chuckle, “once that kid sinks her teeth in, there's no way she’s letting her leave.”

Joel knows it’s too late—her eagerness to invite you over, always finding excuses to talk to you or force Joel to do the same. The kid was too smart for her own good.

Even after all is said and done, you decide to stick around to help clean up. Tommy nearly runs at the opportunity to skip out of the mess, waving a quick goodbye to three of you before he’s gone.

Sarah doesn’t fight Joel when he tells her to head upstairs to get some sleep, knowing that he could manage it on his own. He didn’t deny your offer to help either, taking the kind gesture in stride. 

“How does it feel?” You ask, breaking the silence as you swipe up the dishes into your right arm, stacking the plates and cutlery with a careful movement. “35, I mean?”

Joel chuckles aloud at that, short and flippant as he turns his back, swiping the empty beer bottle from the grill.

“Old,” He answers simply, “and with Sarah getting older it feels like five years for every one.”

“You look like you’re doing alright,” You admit, but it feels like an overstep, your mouth backtracking before your brain can think, “at least, it seems that way.”

Joel smiles slightly, an emotion that only fills half of his face. He’s unsure of it all.

“I don’t think I’ve seen a more cheerful kid,” You sidestep through the backdoor and into the kitchen, placing the dishes in the sink, “and she talks about you a lot.”

Joel drops the empty bottles into the trash, joining you by the sink before politely shoving you aside, “I got ‘em.”

You pull away begrudgingly, but it fades quickly. 

“I’m probably the last person you care to hear this from, but I’ve met a lot of parents, seen a lot of different situations, families—she’s happy, so you’re doing somethin’ right.”

“I’m just tryin’ to keep things normal, I guess.” Joel explains  with his hands halfway submerged in soapy water. “I’m all she’s got.”

A system flows smoothly as Joel passes off the wet dishes for you to dry, stacking them up on the counter.

The glaringly obvious lack of a second parent is not lost on you and if Joel didn’t want to bring it up, it wasn’t your business. But, his face reads guilt—it always does.

Guilty for working too much, guilty for forgetting things, guilty for making Sarah (and Tommy) worry about him so much. 

“Enough about me,” Joel shakes away the excess water, taking the offered dish towel from your hands and patting his own dry, “you want a piece to go?”

The beautiful cake Sarah made, homemade and imperfect, nearly devoured by the four of you already.

“No, I’ll be okay,” You wave your hand freely before resting them in the back pockets of your jeans, scuffing the toe of your shoe against the flooring, “thank you for inviting me, by the way. Not that Sarah gave you an option.”

Joel laughs behind his curled fist, a finger scratching at the fullness of his beard before he’s rubbing his palm over the expanse of it and down his neck.

It doesn’t matter that Joel was the one to mention it to Sarah, wondering if it seemed to forward. The look she returned was typical of a teenage girl and nothing short of making Joel feel stupid for asking. 

“You’re good company,” He compliments, “plus the Adlers might think I’m stiffin’ them if I don’t bring a plate over in the morning, so it’s probably best you don’t take that piece anyways.”

“Hey, they’re sweet,” You chastise him lightly, shoving him gently in the side with a finger, “— and those cookies, man.”

Joel smiles thoughtfully, glancing up toward the open front door, a windless night covered in a blanket of silence.

“Can I walk you back?” Joel asks, mostly out of his habitual politeness but a few more minutes with you would be nice.

“Joel, I’m practically in your backyard.” Your eyes study him shortly, the subtle shrug in his shoulders. It was a kind gesture, one that you wouldn’t expect from anyone else. “Fine, have it your way.”

Joel shakes his head in amusement, hearing you giggle on the way to the door, his footsteps following closely behind. 

And it feels akin to the awkwardness you feel after a first date, the will he won’t he, who should make a move—is there a move to be made? It’s the unspoken giddiness that terrifies you, something you haven’t felt in a long time. 

But, it also doesn’t surprise you when Joel does absolutely nothing—not that he needs to feel the responsibility too, but he always looks like he’s poised to say more, ask another question, and even now as you turn to him, fingers wrapped around the handle of your front door, he’s thinking. 

You're quick to quiet his mind.

“Hey,” You call to him quietly, “I’ll give you a quick tour, if you want?”

It’s harmless, giving him a chance to get a peek inside your life, as hectic and unorganized as it was. You were single, alone, and didn’t have to worry about anything but yourself and the overload of things you’ve accumulated in your space, namely for your job. 

But, despite the disorganization it’s nearly spotless. 

“You still haven’t unpacked?” He asks curiously, tapping his fingers against a pile of cardboard stacked high, unopened. 

“Mostly,” You answer candidly, leading him through the open floor of your home, doors wide open, the freshness of lemon lingering throughout, “living room, some of the kitchen, bedroom—it’s mostly done, it’s just the last room on the right that’s kickin’ my ass.”

Joel’s eyebrows raise in question, silently asking you to lead him further. He ignores how soft your fingers feel as they wrap around his wrist, shoving his watch a few centimeters higher as you do and pulling him down the hall with a leisurely stride. 

He whistles lowly at the sight, a hoard of boxes and no homes. It was the perfect size for an office, probably what you were intending, a small desk buried underneath the rubble.

“No shelves, no storage?”

You point at a few larger boxes stowed away in a corner. 

“I couldn’t build one of those things without breaking somethin’,” You admit with an aura of embarrassment, “plus I need a power drill and bunch of other shit I don’t have right now, so I’ve been putting it off.”

“I’ll help,” Joel suddenly offers, “Given I can manage a day off soon, but I can come over early and we can knock it out in a day.”

“That’s nice, Joel, but—“

“I don’t need your money and I’m not takin’ no for an answer.” Joel realizes how aggressive that sounds, quickly adjusting his manner of speaking, “You’ve been keepin’ Sarah company when I can’t, let me do this.”

Your eyes soften slightly, head tilted at an angle to admire the almost apologetic look on his face. 

“You are too kind, Joel Miller.”

And if he could have the smile engraved into his memory, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

“I never told you my last name.” Joel looks at you quizzically, eyebrows furrowing.

“Got a piece of your mail the other day by mistake,” You admit, “s’kinda funny considering the situation. I was curious. You still trust me?”

“You are somethin’ else.” He grins. “Can I trust you?”

Flirty Joel was sweet, you liked it. But, it was gone in a flash. Too soon, too quick.

“Guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

The part of you that wishes Joel would’ve stayed a little longer that night aches as you lay in bed, dragging your fingertips lightly over your stomach, shirt pushed up near your breasts. It feels ridiculous, pining over your neighbor. 

But, even as you fingers dip inside you, explore your body in all the ways you need, a steady pressure over your clit until you’re coming with a soft gasp, the only thing you can picture is Joel—his face, his hands, and the softness of his voice as he calls out to you, comforts you into that deep void of sleep. 

Joel ends with a second shower that night when the world is quiet and everyone is already tucked away in bed, climbing into the brisk cold of the water before it even has the chance to heat up, hoping it calms him down. He ends up in a similar predicament, dragging it out until it’s nearly painful as he squeezes the head of his cock, your sweet smile still fresh in his mind. Joel calls out your name as he comes, just as quiet, and he knows he’s fucked.

You don’t see Joel for a couple weeks, outside of a few occasions where you’re greeting him from your yard, albeit taking out the trash or spending time on your front porch as the tail-end of summer was winding down and evenings were becoming cooler. 

He seems more preoccupied than usual, smile not always reaching his eyes and you’re wondering if you’ve done something wrong, if he can read the guilt that oozed from you—crushing on a neighbor? Preposterous.

Most of Joel’s own guilt rides on the fact that he’s always busy, it never fails. A screw up at work meant another setback, setbacks meant longer hours and they had been experiencing far too many these days.

He’s stressed about work and bills and everything any normal adult should while also trying to maintain the balance of being a good dad to Sarah. He hates leaving her home alone so often, even though most of the time she would wander next door to the Adlers’ or over to yours, always supplying herself with the company when she needed it.

He greets you on a Sunday morning, mid-October when the Texas heat was still prickly enough to keep you in a tank top and shorts more often than not. He’s already dressed for the job, tattered jeans and an old shirt on his frame, toolbox clutched in his right hand while he rubs the fingertips of his left against the inside of his palm. 

Joel looks a little cleaner around the edges, his beard was trimmed, the hair that started to curl over his ears was shorter and tucked behind his ears and he’s taken a shower despite how much work they had ahead of them for the day. 

And, hell, it was work.

Joel made it look easy, but the sheer amount of energy needed to put all the furniture together was something you just weren’t equipped with. He’s explaining random things to you—the importance of anchoring things down, keeping things stable by balancing out the weight distribution and why he always marks and rechecks things twice before drilling. 

It’s all a completely foreign language, but you can fake the perplexed look on your face as long as needed—you’d nearly mastered it being around an army of tiny children all day, fighting for your attention to show off their new tricks. 

“You’ve been sittin’ on this stuff for how long?” Joel asks, eyebrows pulling together in amusement.

“A few months, maybe. Only a couple days after I moved in, really.”

“I work in construction, sweetheart. You could’ve asked.”

It’s the first time Joel lets his fondness slip, a little word that you skim over entirely when his eyes avert away at the realization.

“Well—I mean, you offered.” Like that wasn’t obvious as he kneeled crouch on your floor, jeans spread tight over his thighs, shirt riding up his back as he leaned in to twist the screw in at an awkward angle. His head is nearly touching your knee, legs tucked under you as you watch. “Seems a little too forward if you ask me.”

“And using my address for your packages don’t?”

He’s got you there, chuckling under his breath at your silence. He thinks back to Sarah’s constant nagging, pushing him to get over his own self-loathing and talk to you, or at least make an attempt.

“Sarah thought you were doing it for other reasons.” He admits, rising slowly to rest his palms against his thighs, sweat collecting around his neck, wetting his collar slightly. “Flirting with me, I guess.”

“That wasn’t my intention,” You answer honestly, “I mean, you’re nice to look at but—“

Joel’s eyebrows raise, intrigued.

You shrug, making a noncommittal noise as you hum.

“It’s the first time she’s been really eager about me getting back out there since, ever, I guess.”

It startles you a moment, the revelation, a small glimpse into his real life, the deeper parts—it’s the tiniest crack, but it’s there. 

“Can I ask you somethin’, Joel?”

He nods slightly, stuffing away the screwdriver and lifting the stand with ease, resting his forearm against the surface of it.

“Has it always been—shit, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” You huff softly, rubbing some sawdust between your fingers, “I guess I’m just tryin’ to say that even if Sarah’s mom isn’t in the picture, for whatever reason, she’s always welcome to come to me for stuff. I remember being that young and losin’ my mind when I felt like I couldn’t talk to anyone.”

“Oh, she’s got you hooked.” Joel’s grin grew wide for a moment before softening, “Sarah’s mom, she—I’ve raised that little girl from birth on my own, so she doesn't know anything but her. She doesn’t ask, I’m not gonna force it on here either. But, I’m glad she’s found someone she’s comfortable with.”

There’s a moment of silence that feels like a new connection, a tether tying the two of you together—closer.

“What about you?” Joel asks suddenly, turning the topic of vulnerability and family back toward you. “If you’re comfortable sharin’.”

“Family moved around a lot, my parents traveled for work so it was just me most of the time—boarding schools, weeks by myself during breaks where I was fending for myself, really. My parents always kept me secure financially, but I raised myself.”

Joel sits on that, absorbing the information as you sit a little deeper into the floor, back resting against the front panel of your desk as you shift your legs in front of you, knees bent. 

Joel mirrors you after a moment, the soft cream of the ceiling fan filling their air as he leans his head back, enjoying the faint breeze. 

“Never wanted kids of my own, either.” You admit, “But, I loved ‘em when they weren’t my own—partially why I started teaching. I just don’t want my kids feeling the way I felt, so if I never have them then…”

Joel understands, fidgeting with his fingers as they rest over his knees.

“I was so young when Sarah came, I didn’t have a clue.”

It’s something you never really thought about, the quickness to grow up at such a young age—not quite a kid but barely stepping into adulthood.

“Well, it seems like you figured it out. She’s got a strong personality but she’s smart, that’s gotta count for something.”

Joel laughs a short, silent noise through his nose, shoulders shaking with the movement. You push away some of the mess from your bare legs, finding that building things was a lot messier than you thought.

“A wet paper towel or washcloth can help,” Joel adds, pointing toward the dusting of wood on the floor, “the rest,” he waves a loose finger toward your hair, pulling at a small piece and flicking it away, “a shower will do just fine.”

Joel glances over your frame briefly, but the gaze he holds is intense, the time that burns even when he finally looks away.

“I can clean this up for you,” Joel offers, “go ahead and take a shower and I’ll be outta your hair before you’re done.”

And you don’t put up a fight, as much as you could have.

The shower feels like heaven after a long day, nearly into late afternoon now and having skipped out on lunch completely—maybe you should offer to feed him as a thank you, knowing he’d never take any money. You hear him moving around outside the door, shuffling with tools, rearranging some of the furniture that was probably a little on the heavier side, falling silent as you finally turned the faucet off.

You should’ve wait a few more seconds, could’ve—you would have missed him completely by then, but you’re wrenching the door open in a hurry to the short distance to your room that was attached to your bathroom, but not before colliding with Joel on the opposite side of the wall as he dug through a cabinet, admittedly a little lost. 

“There weren’t any hand towels in the kitchen,” Joel explains calmly when he turns to you, holding his gaze with yours, avoidant of your blatant nakedness as you silently reach for a towel, wrapping it around your frame without a single blink, “I figured—seemed like the second best option…” 

He gestures vaguely to the cabinet full of towels.

You nod slowly, speaking evenly, to your own surprise.

“And I was gonna invite you over for dinner, or out—whichever, but that seems a little cliche now, seein’ as you just saw me naked, don’t want you getting the wrong impression.”

“Can’t have that,” Joel nods, agreeable, the remnants of smug grin catching the corner of his mouth, “can we?”

It takes every last ounce of self control to keep you from making a mistake, beg him to take you there—wherever, on the floor, the counter, the bed just some several feet away in the adjoining room.

“I’ll just…finish cleanin’ up and see myself out,” Joel nods, letting his gaze drag down slightly, fingers tightening around the towel instinctively—for your own good, “sorry ‘bout all this.”

You nod slightly in response, wracking your brain with any reason you could give to keep him here a second longer, convince yourself to stop being so scared of putting yourself out there. 

It wasn’t lost on you that Joel seemed interested. He’s got that look that lingers when you’re around, always catching glances when he thinks your attentions drawn somewhere else—you see it in the early mornings when you’re leaving for work now, less before you had gotten to know him, and the soften in his voice when he talks to you lately, it’s comforting; he feels safer allowing himself to relax around you now, free of any judgment. 

But, he’s also never made any attempt to cross those boundaries, polite to a default and sometimes his own demise—until now, something telling him to go for it.

“But, if you were wanting to treat me to a nice meal,” There’s a calmness to his tone, that same drip of snark you always had toward him but teasing in a way that made your body run warm all over, “Sarah’s spending the night a few blocks over with a girl on her soccer team, so—a little peace and quiet, some dinner,” Joel shrugs, arm raising up to lean against your frame of the door, palm pressed high and fingers tapping along the woods, “it does sound like a fair trade. For the work.”

And whatever he’s trying for, it’s successful.

Hell, you would’ve ended up finding your way over there somehow, but the fact that Joel’s reciprocating and in a way that almost seems playful, it’s too good to pass up on no matter how stubborn you wanted to be to cover the embarrassment you were feeling right now. 

Sure, for the work.

“Deal.”

It doesn’t take long for you and Joel to settle on something simpler than some meal that would take too long, too much work, and it was glaringly obvious from the moment you arrived at Joel’s front door that neither of you gave a shit about dinner or deals or paying him back for the work he did.

Whatever was lingering between you now was bigger, much bigger than it had been before and impossible to ignore. 

But, the attempt at small talk is nice—a slice or two of pizza into dinner and you’re settled on his couch, legs crossed and facing him fully with his leg stretched out and resting on the coffee table settled a few feet away. He’s no more dressed down than usual, a pair of jeans (arguably one of his cleaner pairs) and a loose shirt that’s design had faded, probably from years and years of wear. You settled for something similar, comfortable, a knitted blanket slung around your shoulders for comfort.

“Cold?” He asks around a bite. 

One word. A simple question, but it feels like an answer to so much more. An excuse, even.

“A little,” You nod, punctuating the answer by pulling the blanket over your shoulder more, knees rising to huddle your body closer to yourself, “it’s not that bad.”

“Let me turn the heat up,” Joel’s standing before you can respond, messing with the small panel on the wall, pointing toward the vent settled conveniently above the couch, “feel it?”

You reach a hand out feebly, waiting for the rush of hot air that never comes. You shake your head slightly, rising on your knees slightly, waddling yourself forward until it finally hits you, closer to Joel’s original spot as he returns, settling back in the same position as before, though you’re much closer in proximity now.

You snort softly, falling back on the heels of your bare feet, palms pressing into the tops of your thighs in an attempt to keep the height you had on Joel currently, the smugness in your expression unavoidable. 

He’s got his left arm slung over the back of the couch, fingers curling and straightening in a subconscious movement, food forgotten on the table, his eyes dragging toward yours lazily, the buzz of the television filling whatever silence was settling between you two. 

Joel is playing oh, so innocent—you can see right through it.

“Smooth,” You can give him some credit, he’s got you closer—not where he wants you or needs you, but he can touch you if he wants, right now, yet still, “how long did you think that over in your head?”

“An hour,” He admits sheepishly, eyes squinting with the half-hearted smile that stretches his face, “pathetic, right?”

You shrug indifferently, settling in deeper, more comfortably. The shift in your movements has your knees pressed against his thighs, hands settling in your lap and just a few inches from his own. There’s a small tear in your jeans that Joel can see, right against the bend of your knee—he’s got the urge to touch you, so he does.

His touch is rough, warm, all calloused from hard work but containing the hominess you crave so deep in your bones. 

“I can let it slide,” You assure him, fingers inching closer to his, the width of his palm covering your kneecap now, a slow, precarious movement as your fingers slip over his own, wrapping around his wrist and feeling the faint thrum of his pulse as it quickens, “if you’ll do something for me.”

It's been weeks of build up, unnecessary tension between the two of you that threatened to spill anytime one of you moved to close to the other, a simple touch in passing or looks that dragged on too long.

“‘Course, anything.”

The admission comes quickly. He doesn’t even need to think it over. He’s staring more intently, the shadows of his face changing with every flashing picture on the screen several feet away.

“Stop torturing me,” You supply softly, guiding his hand between your legs until his knuckles bump against your center, a soft squeeze to your thigh as his fingers fit comfortably against your body, his brain mapping out how the levels of his touch affect you, “you take me to your room,” it’s your turn to reach for him, fingers leaving his wrist to trace alone his thigh in return, though stretching past the the button of his jeans to find the soft skin of his abdomen under his shirt and dragging over his stomach delicately until he can’t stand it anymore, using his free hand to lock yours in place, pulling your attention to his face once more and away from the slow rise and fall of his breathing, “and you fuck me.”

Joel frowns slightly, the creases in his forehead becoming a little deeper, the beginnings of his crows feet wrinkling around his eyes and he’s trading the spot where his hand is cuddle against the apex of your thighs to slip his fingers under your jaw, tracing the fragile lines of your face until he can cradle your cheek gently, using the pad of his thumb to press on your chin, guiding your face down to look at him, and somehow pulling you impossibly closer.

“Fuck you?” He questions, eyes searching yours briefly, tongue swiping at his bottom lip, “No—no, that’s not how I do things, sweetheart.”

You smile under his touch, watching as he mirrors those emotions and urges you toward him and over his lap, large palms holding steady at your waist. You filter your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, tracing until you reach the shell of his ear, playing with the short tuft of hair that curls behind it, his eyes watching your movements carefully.

“Care to enlighten me?” 

Joel chuffs out a laugh, short and brimming with a darkness that wasn’t there before, using the leverage he has to lean forward and secure you on his lap until you’re hanging by a thread over his knees, letting out a small yelp at the change in position that quickly dissipates into laughter.

“Darlin’, I’d rather show you.”

*

There’s a certain giddiness to your energies as you clumsily climb your way up the steps, Joel suddenly a lot more handsy than earlier as he grips at your hips, your thighs, pulling you in for quick, fleeting touches that tickle and have your breath catching in your throat until you can finally break away, nearly tripping into his bedroom before he catches you with a swift hand, shoving the door closed with his heel as he closes in on you, pulling your legs up around his hips in one heft of a motion, arm slung around your backside while the other paws at your thighs, make the small trek to his bed and resting you down slowly, chest heaving with a quickness.

A sudden dip in the bed has your ass nearing the edge but his legs are there to catch you, knees barely pressing against the end of the mattress while he reaches for the button on your pants wordlessly aside from the gaze he’s holding with you, his expression is rather flat (a little concentrated even) and he’s popping it open with ease, thick fingers sneaking around the waistband and tugging until there’s nothing left but a small snag at your ankle that he wrangles quickly, soothing the spot after with his thumb.

“M’sorry about earlier, again,” Joel finds himself apologizing, “never wanted to make you feel uncomfortable around me.”

“I wasn’t—I’m not,” It’s something you’re sure of, more so that anything right now, “I could’ve cleaned up the mess myself.”

Joel shrugs, large palm spreading over the width of your hips, thumbs pressed gently into the ridge of your hip bones as he folds your legs in closer from where they’re hooked around his own waist, the soft cotton dragging against denim and igniting a deep yearning that could only be satiated once he was inside you—it’s what you were hoping for, urging him closer with your foot as you nudged him forward.

“And you were so respectful,” You comment coyly, tilting your head up at him as you reach for the fabric of his shirt, grinding the wet heat of your cunt against the front of his jeans for friction, bottom lip pulled between your lip momentarily when it feels just a little too good, “didn’t even try to take a look, did you?”

Joel laughs quietly, a short huff through his nose when he shakes his head, “I tried—god, did I try—”

His thumbs dip lower, under the waistband over your underwear while his fingertips slide under your shirt, rubbing against the soft skin of your belly, your own hands coming down to claim his, pulling them higher until they settle over your breasts, completely bare underneath.

“I’ve been picturing it since I got home,” Joel admits, glancing up at the ceiling briefly in a desperate plea when he touches the bare skin, nipples pebbling against his touch and he squeezes greedily before he finally has the courage to look at you, watching as you pull the top over your head casually, “you’re poisonin’ my mind, sweetheart.” 

It’s a compliment wrapped in some form of emotion you can’t decipher as his mouth drops open an inch, rubbing his thumb over the soft bud of your nipple until you grow impatient, a small whine of protest leaving your mouth as you reach the short distance between your bodies to rub against the swell of his jeans, “Not just that I hope.”

“You really want me to fuck you?” Joel asks sweetly, a little condescending with the way it’s delivered as he glares down at you, his touching lingering from your breasts as he slides a thumb over your clothed cunt, a gentle pressure against your clit until your breath stutters at the sensation. He says your name softly, a warning for your attention to be brought back to him. “Hey, need you with me—you like that? Getting fucked?”

You squeeze him firmly until it forces a chuckle out of his chest, his hand squeezing around your thigh to pull you taut, rocking his hips into the touch before swatting your hand away and working at his belt, jeans, everything keeping him constrained until he can finally reach his cock, working his boxers half away down his thighs and reaching for your hand again, wrapping your softer, less overworked hands around his dick until it registers in your head what he wants, his hand a guiding light as he builds a slow rhythm, squeezing your grip until it’s just right.

“Usually, yeah,” You nod, using your touch to admire every last bit of him, thumb drifting over the head of his cock as you squeeze tight, letting him buck into your touch impatiently—he’s breathing hard through his nose, eye contact more intense now that it ever has been, staring down at your over the bridge of his nose, all beautiful and godlike, sculpted to perfection, “feels good.”

It doesn’t matter if it’s been months. But it has. Almost a year, truthfully, and just by the quick glance you take at him—nothing compares. He doesn’t make a big deal about it, talk himself up like he’s everything you need. He wants to hear what you like, what you want.

“I can do that,” He obliges and suddenly his hand is hit against your folds, middle finger spreading you open gently, pressing against your opening testingly, “do what you like—or we can do things my way.”

“Your—your way?” You gasp softly, nodding without hearing what he has to say, “Yeah—fuck, your way is fine.”

“Didn’t even let me talk, sweet girl.” Joel remarks smugly.

But, it doesn’t matter. The second his finger breaches you fully it’s nothing but white noise, his thumb working just as tentatively at your clit.

Joel drones on anyways, his voice like a warm current as it guides you into a state of calm.

“I’ll get you there, real close, just like this,” He nudges his fingers against a soft spot inside of you that has your eyes squeezing shut, choking off a moan as you squeeze tight around his cock, hands moving a lot less now that he had you distracted, but Joel didn’t mind, “then I’ll fuck you, slow…hard, whatever you like, okay?” And there comes your name again, a bouy pulling you back to the surface as you nod, “But, fuck if I don’t take my time with you—I’m gonna save her for last,” He slips another finger in silently before pulling out and rubs the collected slick over your clit in a couple quick movements, “show her all the attention she deserves, right?”

“Joel,” You whine—a beg, a plea, just another reason to say his name so desperately, “Joel, please.”

“I gotcha,” He comforts, lifting a knee up to rest against the mattress, shifting your leg higher and switching up the angle entirely as it forces his fingers in deeper as he pushes back in, “relax, breathe, lean into it, baby.”

Letting yourself go, he means. The baby is an afterthought and maybe he doesn’t mean anything by it, but it doesn’t fail to send a flutter through your insides and somehow calm you in the same instance. 

And really, nothing compares. He’s attentive in a way that’s new to you, never something you’ve experienced in the past and maybe it helps that he’s got a few years on you, or more experience, but it’s addictive—he’s got a hold on you that you can’t seem to break. 

He listens to the way your breath buckles when he rubs your clit a little too fast, clearly nearing your edge quicker than he or you would like, but he knows just when to stop and slow down, fill you full of his fingers and keep you wanting more. He sees the subtle pull of your brow when he drags it on longer than you’re used to, that’s when he finally pulls away. 

“Joel, can’t—“ You breath out tiredly, eyes closed and resting as you catch your breath, his hands nudging yours away from his cock as it bounces against his stomach, quickly shoving his jeans and underwear the rest of the way down, “want you inside, need you to fuck me like you—you said—“

He rubs a comforting hand against your stomach, up your sternum until he’s flat against the center of your chest and you’re looking at him again, more focused this time around.

“Scoot up,” He tells you softly, nodding while he reaches behind his head, yanking his shirt over his head in one fluid act, “get comfortable, sweetheart.”

He’s unabashed and cool in the way he holds himself before you, yielding a vulnerability that he never would’ve had with you if he hadn’t gotten to know to you more, if he didn’t have the chance to—he walks around the bed and to his nightstand a few feet away, admittedly littered in either dirty clothes or laundry he hadn’t put away yet, rustling through one of his top drawers for something you can only assume, his bare ass on display and in perfect view. 

It’s something to admire, firm and toned from the heavy lifting and upkeep he kept on his body, through work and exercise, the muscles in his backs molding to each move he made as he stretched, rolling a tight shoulder as he closed the blinds a little tighter, turning to you then and switching on his bedside lamp, bathing the room in a soft glow that leaves you nowhere to hide from him.

Not that you felt the need to anymore. Maybe a few weeks ago, but definitely not now. 

“Here,” He’s adjusting a pillow underneath your head as you lean forward, assuring you’re comfort as you nod to his waiting look, eyebrow raised slightly, “do you—I can turn that off if you want?” He rubs a curious hand down your chest again, clambering to settle between your legs as he kneels, cock hanging heavy between you as he rips the foil open quietly with his opposite hand, the other again, curious as he palms your breast, pointer finger dragging along the swell of it as he traces down to the underside, “I just—I like seein’ you.”

“It’s fine, Joel.” You answer him, stalling his movements with your touch as you trap his hand, watching as he spits away the foil and rolls the condom over his cock with ease, stroking languidly until he feels secure, somehow making the moment even more tender as he winds his fingers through your loose ones, subconsciously asking for the touch as he smile when your eyes catch his gaze. 

“You let me know what you need,” He orders kindly, though there’s a sternness behind it, “I’ll be damned if you’re not gettin’ what you want, alright?”

You nod, inhaling silently on the first press of his head against your cunt, his shaft sliding against the center and coating in your wetness before he’s pushing in with a carefulness that’s indicated through the tight grip you have on his hand, loosening when he finally bottoms out.

Joel groans low, quiet, savoring how tight you’re gripping him in the moment, pulsating with need from how hard he’d edged you to near orgasm. He’s thankful, for once, because he’s not sure he has much will power to hold off either. 

“Slow,” He reminds you, a gentle rock of his hips as he focuses his attention toward the point where you two meet, watching the way you pull him in with greed, fingers once twisted between his fingers now clawing tightly at the sheets, “shit—it’s been too long.”

You nod knowingly, other hand shifting to put space between you and the headboard, placing opposite pressure against the wood with your hand, in turn allowing you to gain some leverage and work yourself easier against Joel, whatever slow place he was going for quickly dissolving into madness, hands wild and gripping at whatever flesh it could reach.

“Oh, hell.” Joel groans, head tilted back and eyes squeezed shut for his own good, fingers digging into your thighs so he can fuck himself into you with fervor, your moans quickly morphing into pleas for, “more, more—please, Joel.”

“Gimme your hand,” He gruffs out, voice scratchy and raw, guiding your fingers until they lock around the back of your thigh, pushing until you’re spread wide and he’s guiding your other leg over his chest, ankle resting against his shoulder as he pulls out without warning to adjust himself, “you’re gonna hold yourself open, baby—keep yourself open for me.”

And then he’s sliding back in with no preamble or words of comfort, just a desperate slide of his body against your own, seeking to be back inside you.

The angle is almost unbearable this way, teetering on the edge of too much but whatever words you’re trying to form in your head aren’t making sense, eyes locked on Joel—all of him; his face and the subtle way his forehead creases, mouth dropping open wider when you clench down on him, gasping through every thrust of his hips, and his chest in the way it flexes as he pulls you tighter, biceps flexing as he strains, his own self control breaking down piece by piece. You’re mostly mesmerized by the way this angle gives an almost perfect view to watch him fuck up into you, the veins running along the side of his cock and how careful he is too pull all the way out before he’s driving you insane with the forceful thrusts he gives as he returns, his eyes flicking up briefly when he catches you staring. 

“Oh, fuck—“ He huffs through a laugh, your name falling from his lips once more, “sweetheart, you’ve got no clue how good you feel.”

He moans a little louder, unrestrained and rough, almost like he’s growling with every sharp snap of his hips and it’s driving you insane, that subtle throb of need turning into an ache that had to be soothed.

“Joel…” You call out to him, sounding soft and broken.

He’s right there with you, ripping your hand away from where it’s latched to your thigh and bringing it between your legs, feeling exactly how wet you were for him, his thumb covering your own as he helped you start a steady rhythm against your clit.

“Look so pretty like this, sweetheart,” Joel notes, voice sounding even more strained, his grip growing tighter as he seeked to wrap you around him more, more, more, leaving your hand to wrap around the back of your thighs and push you apart, “I got you—come for me. Think you can do that?”

You nod absently, feeling like you were falling into a trance, a dark void that was just you and him and nothing else, touching yourself with an urgency that didn’t let up, fingers immediately speeding up when his hands moved away and he sees it, the desperation.

Joel chuckles to himself, a noise that breaks you from the haze as your eyes creep open, watching how he admired you openly with no shame, “Fuck—you really need it, don’t you?”

You can hear yourself, him—that wet squelch of arousal, skin against skin as he fucks into you with no restraint. You nod again, a quick jerky movement as you feel that familiar heat in your belly build, “Yesyes—god, Joel.”

And Joel soothes you every step of the way as it finally hits you, his hands giving your thighs that desperate relief they needed as he pulls you close, a hand cupping the back of your neck firm and tilting your chin up, lips dragging along yours without taking the step to press against them for a full kiss, a intimate moment of breathing against one another while Joel follows a few moments later, his hips rocking to a slow halt as he rides through the force of his orgasm, groaning deeply against your mouth as you feel everything calm around you, the soft hum of the fan on his dresser pulling you back to earth. 

You want to kiss him so badly, watching him pull away for a brief second to check in with you, eyes scanning your face for anything—but you’re tired of overthinking so you do it, no second guessing, no worrying, cupping his face gently and pulling him in for a long, but simple kiss that feels like it could go on for eternity. He melts into it instantly, the firm grip on your neck softening to cradle your face, one of you (though, maybe both) eventually coming up for air with grins wider than you’ve ever seen. 

There’s nothing left to do but feel it, both of you laughing into each other’s skin and that small snort of amusement slipping from you, feeling Joel mumble something against your collarbone but not asking him to repeat it, watching him smile to himself again as he rises on steady legs to dispose of the condom.

“How are you even—“ You giggle softly, rubbing a gentle hand over your face and through your hair, watching as he retreats toward his ensuite bathroom to retrieve something small, a tiny towel as he wipes up the last remnants of mess around you and his own body, but not yet reaching for you, “my legs are shaking, can you—“ You reach weakly for the towel.

But, he’s spreading out between your legs before you can protest, that smug fucking look on his face as he tosses the towel to the side and waits for you to finish.

You never do.

“Didn’t forget, did you?” Joel asks, eyebrows raised in question. “I’m takin’ my time, sweetheart.”

And the night lends all the time in the world, watching with a sated grin and tired eyes as Joel presses a kiss to your core and dives in, finding every last bit of you to taste, devour, savor in the off chance he never gets to experience this again. 

“Pussy’s fuckin’ perfect, darlin’.” He murmurs—and how he manages to make that sound so endearing despite how depraved it actually is, you’ll never know.

He also really loves when you play with his hair, the delicate traces of your fingertips as you take through his soft tufts of brown and pull when things get a little too intense.

Joel brings you to a slow, but satisfying second orgasm that has you whining at how intense it feels after the first, gasping when his tongue works you through it and nearly has you cursing his name in a plea to stop, but he pulls away at the perfect moment, careful as he cleans you up now, not a word shared until he’s settled in the bed beside you, reaching to pull at the lamp string and let the room succumb to darkness. 

Part of your brain thinks this should feel strange—screwing your neighbor after he’s been helping you out for weeks and building your furniture for free (technically), but Joel’s mind is elsewhere, rubbing softly at your side as he turns you in bed, pulling the sheets up over you both despite your obvious states of undress, clearly too tired to go searching for your clothes.

You want to make an excuse to leave. You do, but Joel quickly squashes that worry of making things weird by staying.

You can't see face but you hear him, lips brushing the top of your head as he speaks in a soft tone, “Sleep here,” He encourages you, but adding a quick, “if you want—only if you’re comfortable with it.”

“What about tomorrow?”

“Tommy’s pickin’ Sarah up for me in the morning,” He tells you, sensing your hesitation of an uncomfortable face to face the next morning, and you voice that to him softly, “don’t worry, I can sneak you out if it comes to that.”

Joel lends a soft touch to your thighs, still sore and shot from earlier as he squeezes the flesh gently.

“M’not gonna fuck you like that and let you leave,” and that shouldn’t make you feel the way it does, leaning into his touch a little further, wanting more, but it does, “somethin’ about you relaxes me, can’t put my finger on it.”

“The mind-blowing sex to start,” You joke lightly, speaking softly to him despite the empty house, “among other things.”

Joel’s laugh is the last thing you hear before you both lose the battle to exhaustion, curled around one another.

*

Tommy catches you in the kitchen nursing a cup of coffee before you even realize he’s inside, quiet as a mouse as Sarah trods up behind him and beyond, waving a quick greeting with no outward comment or acknowledgement on why you were here, at the Miller residence, somehow stuck in the middle of their morning routine as they readied for work around you.

“My brother?” He asks with a smile, polite but amused.

“Bathroom, shower.” You answer, watching him nod, digesting the context clues and laughing to himself.

You hand him a cup wordlessly, filling the coffee for him.

“Didn’t think he had it in ‘em.” Tommy comments off-handedly, blowing out a faint puff through his lips as he shakes his head, dipping his head into the fridge in search of breakfast. 

Joel saves you soon after, walking you back to your house without a word to his brother aside from a quick shared look, one that reads him getting teased to all he’ll later.

There’s a silent agreement that’s made as Joel backs you against your front door, tilting your chin up briefly to press a chaste kiss to the side of your jaw, not quite your lips, not quite your cheek, but still somehow more sensual than it should be. 

“I’ve got a lot of fixin’ to do, still,” You admit, “could really use your help—if you’re still offerin’.”

“At your service, sweetheart.”

Tommy’s waiting eagerly in the kitchen when Joel returns, digging into a blueberry muffin like an animal.

“You are so screwed, brother.”

And Joel knows it’s true.

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

[antiquarianfics]

Accidental pt. 3

What happens when you accidentally kidnap the exact man you were looking for?

pairing: mob!bucky x reader

warning(s): canon level violence, kidnapping, profanity

a/n: girl, do i know where this is going? no, not until i write it. but what do you think? is this gonna end well? hehehe

You do not have permission to copy, translate, or repost my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and reblog.

part 2

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

"Have her home by... What time was your meeting again? 7? Have her home safely by 7 tomorrow," you say, standing up from where you sat in front of him. You begin to move around the basement, picking up your things that you had brought with you in the whole kidnapping ordeal. Once you've collected your things, you start walking towards the stairs to leave. "If she isn't there, the deal's off."

"You're just going to leave me here?" James asks, pulling at his arm restraints.

You look over your shoulder at him and smile at him. "You're a mob boss, doll, I'm sure you'll get out of there in time." Then, with that, you ascend the stairs.

—

You pace back and forth through your sister's living room, a million thoughts racing through your mind.

What if James doesn't follow through on his word?

What if you're being played?

What if you let go the one person who could actually help you?

You take a deep breath, pulling back the curtains hanging above the living room window to peek out into the street. Empty. Your eyes drift over to the analog clock your sister has hanging above her fireplace. The hands seem to scream back at you: 6:53.

You pace some more, rationalizing that James still has—you glance at your watch that now reads 6:54—6 minutes to return your sister. Six minutes. Six minutes. Six minutes until you have to pull your mask back on and try and somehow track James down again. He might not have been your original target, but now that you've dealt with him, he's the go-to.

You look up at the analog clock on the wall again: 6:58. You pull back the curtain, looking out the window. Empty. You groan loudly and kick the nearest piece of furniture, wincing in pain when it actually hurts. You glance down at your watch: 6:59. You rush to the front door, looking out the peep hole. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, an alarm for 7:00.

Right on time, a black, fancy-looking SUV pulls up in front of your sister's house and you pull the front door open, taking quick steps onto the porch. You watch anxiously as the driver kills the engine and steps out of the car before walking around the vehicle to open the back passenger door. Once the door opens, you suck in a breath.

Ellie steps out. You exhale.

The two of you make eye-contact and Ellie rushes towards you while you hop the stairs to meet her. The two of you crash into a desperate embrace.

"Ellie! Oh, God! Are you okay?" You pull away, hands cupping either side of her face as you move it side to side, examining her for any sort of injury. Your breathing is erratic.

"I'm okay, Y/N. I'm okay." Ellie assures, her right hand rising to cup your face. She smiles weakly (it's meant to be reassuring).

"I'm so sorry it took me so long to find you. I did everything I could," you promise, willing her to believe you.

"I know."

Ellie looks like she wants to say more, maybe apologize for getting herself into such a situation, beg for forgiveness for being so reckless, but she doesn't get the opportunity. Your reunion is interrupted by the driver clearing his throat, clearly impatient and unaffected by the scene unfolding in front of him. You glance up at the man while Ellie turns and looks at him over her shoulder. She returns her gaze to you before offering you another apologetic smile.

"I'll be inside," she says, walking away. You nod, turning your head slightly to your right as she passes you. You wait for the door to open and close behind you before you look back up at Barnes' man.

"Can I help you?" You ask, your voice cold and devoid of emotion. You're doing your best to summon back the confidence and authority you had when you were questioning James Barnes himself. James, however, had not witnessed what you assume the man in front of you perceived as a weak moment.

The man smirks, as if he is aware of your internal battle, and reaches into his coat pocket. From the depths of his suit jacket, he pulls out an envelope and hands it to you. You raise an eyebrow, eyeing the envelope suspiciously. You take it from him gingerly.

"What's this?''

"From Mr. Barnes," is all he says. He does not move, however, and it's clear that he is going to stand there and watch you open the envelope.

"Uh huh," you say, slipping your finger beneath the seal, breaking it. You cautiously pull out a small piece of stationary; it's white with a gold border. It reads:

To the woman who knocked me out, dragged me to an unknown location, tied me up, demanded information from me, and pointed a gun at me,

If you're reading this, then my men have safely escorted your sister home and you've laid eyes on her. Thus, I have held up my end of the bargain. I trust you will hold up yours. I'd hate for you to have drag me back to that basement...

Let's stay on theme, shall we? I will send for you tonight at 7:00. Wear something nice. ;)

Yours Truly,

J.B.B.

You scoff as you finish reading the note, dropping your hand to your side and looking up and around in disbelief. The nerve of this guy! You didn't miss the teasing tone he held back in the basement—he was as flirty as ever—but you also didn't miss the threat held within his words. I'd hate for you to have to drag me back to that basement... As if you'd ever risk Ellie's well-being by standing him up. You may have the audacity to kidnap him, but you're still very aware he's dangerous. You clench your jaw, swallow, and let your eyes meet those of Barnes' lacky.

"Tell James," you put emphasis on the mobster's first name in hopes of seeming unbothered by the note, "that he has nothing to worry about. I intend to hold up my end of our bargain, but," you say, taking a step forward and jabbing a finger into the man's chest, "also tell him that there will be none of this 'sending for me' business. He wants this meeting so badly, then he can dance his pretty little self up to my door and pick me up. You hear me?"

The man nods, "Yes, ma'am." He looks like he's trying not to laugh, but you feel it's not at you. Perhaps at Barnes' expense? You decide you don't care as you turn around and start to make your way back towards the house. You take only a couple of steps before you pause, though, and turn, a thoughtful look on your face.

"Oh, and one more thing," you say, catching the man's attention before he gets back into the SUV. He raises an eyebrow, you smirk. "Tell James he better damn well bring flowers."

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

@cjand10 @vicmc624 @mostlymarvelgirl @livingoutsidethetardis @onceithough @thedonswife13 @kaithesimps-blog @buckitostan @julvrs @unaxv

[scoonsalicious]

10.4 Major

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, alcohol consumption, drunkenness, brief mentions of sexual situations.

Word Count: 3.6k

Previously On...: Bucky ran to Lily for comfort after running out on you. Despite her best efforts, Bucky realized he done fucked up, A-aron.

A/N: Sorry for the delay. Everything but this and all of you is shit right now, lol.

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

After Bucky had stormed out of The WarZone that evening, you had tried to call him. Dozens of times. At first, he’d declined the calls, but soon, they went straight to voicemail, and you knew he had turned off his phone. Either that, or he’d blocked you. 

You knew he would be upset when he saw the contents of that envelope, but for him to make those accusations of you, and then to run away without even giving you an opportunity to speak or explain yourself? To say you were pissed off would be an understatement. So, you did the one thing that came to your mind as a way of dealing with the pain and frustration you were feeling: you went home and drank.

You’d been obsessively staring at her phone screen as you put back glass after glass of wine, willing Bucky to call you and apologize, to text asking for your side of the story, for anything, really, but after hours of his silence, you finally had enough and composed a single message to him:

>> When you’re done with your temper tantrum and want to talk like a grown up, you know where to find me.

Probably not the most mature thing you could have done, but you had been drinking, after all. Besides, it’s not like it had mattered; he’d never answered, anyway. You’d probably never hear from him again. That thought, amplified by the alcohol, had sent you down a dark tunnel of tears and ugly sobs. You honestly couldn’t remember ever crying this much over a man– not even when you’d found out about Connor’s affair, and you’d been married for nearly a decade; no, that had felt more like a relief, like finally having an answer to a question that had been stumping you for ages. But now, here you were, a blubbering mess over a man you hadn’t even known for a full week. 

You weren’t sure what hurt the most about it: the fact that he thought you went looking for that information, the words he’d said to you, or the way he ran out without even hearing your side of things. You didn’t even have the bandwidth to consider the betrayal of him going through your private papers.

There had just been so much potential with Bucky. So much promise. It could have been something beautiful and amazing, and now, it was over before it had even had a chance to really begin. And that just made you sad. Sad, and lonely. Maybe you’d finally get yourself a cat. Yeah, that seemed like a good idea. Perhaps it was finally time to embrace your destiny as a spinster cat lady, just like your mother had always threatened since your divorce. Why fight the inevitable?

A soft knock at your door took you out of your depression spiral. You quickly glanced at your clock– 10:45 pm. Far too late for a social call. Most likely, your nextdoor neighbor, Jeremy, had locked himself out of his apartment and wanted to hang out at yours until maintenance came by with the master key, again. 

Wiping the tears from your eyes, you made a move to stand, but the alcohol sent a wave of dizziness through your system and you almost fell stumbling back down to the couch. This time, you moved more slowly, holding on to furniture for support as you shuffled toward the front door. When you made it about half way, you heard a voice from the hallway that definitely did not belong to Jeremy. You froze.

“Sugar? Are you there? Will you open up, please?” 

Shit. What the fuck was Bucky doing here? You couldn’t possibly talk to him right now– your face was an absolute mess from crying and you were still so drunk. And what if he was still angry? 

You considered your next course of action. Opening the door was a no go– any conversation could only end in disaster. For the same reason, you couldn’t try to talk to him through the door. Knowing the effect he had on you, it would probably only be a few minutes before you were letting him in, begging him to fuck you. No, the best thing to do would be to retreat to your bedroom and hide until he went away. Maybe he would just assume you weren’t home.

Yes, that was the way to do it. To your wine-soaked brain, this seemed entirely logical.  You turned to head back into your bedroom, but you missed-stepped and banged your shin into one of your end tables.

“Fuck,” you hissed in pain, trying to keep your voice down as you rubbed what would no doubt become a spectacular bruise.

“Doll?” Bucky called from the hallway. “I know you’re in there. I just heard you. Please let me in. I just want to talk to you.”

Damn it. 

Without another thought, you hightailed it back into your bedroom, throwing yourself under the covers. Just hearing the sound of his voice through the door brought back the memory of his tirade from earlier in the day, and the words he’d spoken to you:

“You wanna know how many people I killed that didn’t make it into those files, because I promise you, sugar, there’s a hell of a lot. You want to know about the time Hydra sent me to kill an ambassador, told me to leave no witnesses, and I took out his wife and his two kids, too? ‘Cause they couldn’t have been more than ten years old. That kind of thing get you off, doll?”

The rage in his voice had been palpable, and if you were being honest, it had scared you. Not the rage, itself. You knew he was capable of it. No, what had frightened you was how quickly he had turned that rage on to you.

The thought brought a fresh wave of tears, and before you knew it, you were crying yourself into a fitful, restless slumber.

*

There was an incessant pounding coming from the living room that echoed the pounding in your skull. Moaning, you rolled over and picked up your phone to glance at the time. 1:47am. The pounding persisted, and it took your now hungover brain a moment to realize someone was knocking on your front door. 

With a groan, you shoved your head under your pillow, hoping whoever was there would go the fuck away and leave you to die in peace. 

“Ms. (Y/L/N), it’s the NYPD; please open your door.” Well. That got your attention. Sitting bolt upright, you jumped out of bed and nearly tripped trying to get to the door in a hurry. 

You checked the peep hole, making sure it actually was one of New York’s finest, and opened the door. 

“Can I help you, officer?” you asked, leaning against the door frame.

The officer gave you the once over and smirked, and it was then you remembered you’d chosen a pair of boyshort panties and an off-the shoulder cropped Army t-shirt for your pajamas that night. With a scowl, you crossed your arms over  your chest. 

“Are you “(Y/N) (Y/L/N)?” the officer asked, obviously amused by your discomfort. 

“I am,” you nodded. “What is this about?”

“Do you know this man?” the officer stepped aside, revealing Bucky, who was standing sheepishly off to the side of the door where you hadn’t been able to see him at first.

“Hey, doll,” he said with a shameful half smile and small wave.

“One of your neighbors found him sleeping against your door and called us. He claims he’s your boyfriend and he was just waiting for you to let him in. Since he’s an Avenger, I figured I’d give him a chance to prove his story before I booked him for trespassing.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. You were far too hungover to be dealing with this right now. “He’s not my boyfriend,” you clarified, and you didn’t miss Bucky’s face falling at your words. “But we are dating.” You stood back from the doorframe, making some space. “Come inside,” you told him with an exasperated sigh.

Bucky gave the officer an “I told you so” smirk and shoulder checked him before going inside your condo. You rolled your eyes at the childish display of machismo. You thanked the officer and moved to close the door, but he put a hand out, preventing you from closing it.

“Are you going to be safe if I leave you alone with him?” he asked you in a low voice, all trace of his earlier smirk gone. “Do you have any reason to fear for your life?”

You couldn’t help it– you snorted in laughter. “God, no,” you said. Yes, Bucky’s anger had frightened you, but you couldn’t believe he would ever go so far as to actually hurt you. He just wasn’t that kind of man, right? “I promise you, officer, I’m perfectly safe with Mr. Barnes. I mean, he’s an Avenger.”

The officer nodded. “Just making sure, miss. My partner and I will stay in the area; if there’s any trouble, call 911 and we’ll be nearby.” You thanked him for his concern, but assured him it wouldn’t be needed. He tipped his cap to you and headed for the elevator. 

You closed the door and leaned against it with a sigh. You needed to get some liquid in you. Immediately. 

Without sparing a glance at Bucky, who was standing by your coffee table, studiously avoiding looking at you,  you made your way into the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water.

“Boyfriend, huh?” you said eventually, keeping your back to him as you ran the glass under your refrigerator’s water dispenser.

“Yeah… I wasn’t sure what to say to him to get him to let me stay,” he said, and his voice was closer now; you could tell he’d followed you to the kitchen.

“What are you doing here, Bucky?” you asked. You took a couple of sips from your glass before finally turning to face him. He looked… rough. His hair was disheveled, his clothes were wrinkled, and his eyes were red-rimmed, as though he, too, had spent some of the last several hours crying. 

Bucky swallowed thickly. “I came to apologize if you’ll let me,” he said, looking intently at your face. “Shit, sugar– have you been crying? Did I– fuck– I made you cry, didn’t I? I’m so sorry, doll.”

You let out a short bark of a laugh. Part of you wanted to throw your arms around him, bury your face into his shoulder, and never let him go, but what he had said to you earlier in the day was… well, it was horrendous and uncalled for, and you couldn’t, out of respect for yourself, just let it slide without some kind of explanation, and some real groveling.

“Explain yourself,” you said shortly, crossing your arms over your chest once again, as though putting a physical barrier between the two of you. 

Bucky swallowed and moved back toward your living room and began to pace. You followed, keeping a decent amount of distance between the two of you.

“I freaked out when I saw what was in that envelope,” he said. “As you no doubt know by now, I did a lot of shit, back when Hydra had me, that I’m not proud of. I’m… well, I guess you could say ‘sensitive about it’ would be an understatement. I carry a lot of guilt for what they made me do, and a lot of shame. Ever since I…” he paused, mulling over his word choice, “came back to myself, for good, I’ve been trying to make amends for all the harm I caused. To make things right. I know I can never erase all the pain I inflicted, bring back the people I killed, but I try to… to make things better. Where I can.”

He slumped down into one of your armchairs, a look of defeat crossing his handsome features. “It’s never going to be enough,” he sighed. “I know that. There are always going to be people who look at me, and only see the Soldier. No matter what I do, how much I atone, or how many lives I save, they’ll never see Bucky Barnes.”

“I told you from the beginning, Bucky,” you said, leaning against the wall that divided the living room from the kitchen, “it was obvious to me that you were blameless. A victim. And so, for you to accuse me of getting off on—”

“I know, sugar,” Bucky interrupted. He was looking up at you with sorrowful eyes. “I never should have accused you of that; I was an ass. I was…” he averted his eyes, embarrassed to admit this next part to you. “I was afraid.”

“Afraid.” You rolled the word around on your tongue. “Bucky, you’re a super soldier. A fucking Avenger. What the hell do you have to be afraid of?”

“I was afraid that if you saw the real me, what I had done, you’d run screaming in the other direction,” he admitted without looking back at you. “Or, that the only reason a dame like you could be interested in a guy like me was because you were attracted to the darkness. To the monster. That it wasn’t actually me you were into, but the Soldier.” He finally looked up at you in time to see the puzzled look you gave him.

“It happened before,” he said, voice low and shamed. “There was this girl– her name was Jessica– and I thought I was in love with her, you know? Thought maybe I’d finally found my person. Was gonna ask her to move in with me but, turns out she just had a thing for the Soldier. She got off on the violence of it.” He looked down at his vibranium hand, flexing and unflexing his fist. “The old one did so much damage. They had me use it to hurt so many innocent people, and then I found out she searched for Winter Soldier choke porn on my computer. This thing that had caused so much pain, brought me nightmares, that woke me up screaming at night, and it was her fucking kink.” 

He looked back up at you, eyes desperate and pleading. “I couldn’t stand to go through something like that again. Not with you, Major. Especially not with you. So, I panicked, and I was an ass, and I hurt you before you could explain, because I didn’t want to give you a chance to hurt me.”

You sighed and moved away from the wall. He was weakening your resolve to be pissed at him by the second. In fact, your heart was breaking for him. 

“And now I’ve ruined things between us,” he said, “before they even really had a chance to begin.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am, and I understand if you don’t want to forgive me. I was awful. I just… I just want you to know that I’ll always look back on the time we spent together as some of the best days of my life.” He made a move to stand up, but you took a step toward him.

“Oh my god, sit down, you idiot.” You walked closer, putting both your hands on his shoulders and slowly moving down to straddle his lap, his hands slipping almost subconsciously to your waist. “I don’t know if this is going to come back to bite me in the ass or not, but I forgive you.” You draped your arms around his neck and softly kissed the corner of his mouth. “Were you dumb? Yes. Did you overreact and behave like a child? Yes.” He narrowed his eyes at you, but you just playfully wrinkled your nose at him. 

“But are your concerns understandable, after everything you’ve been through? Also, yes.” You began to toy with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “Next time you find yourself feeling like that, or questioning my motives, please promise me that you’ll talk to me instead of yelling at me and icing me out, okay?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, nodding profusely, “I can do that. I promise.”

“Good. Now, I feel this goes without saying, but I want to make sure we’re both on the same page, here,” you said to him. “ I did not seek out those documents. Someone sent them to me, anonymously. I didn’t tell you about them when I got them because I didn’t want to offend you or remind you of a past I know you don’t enjoy reminiscing about. I meant it when I said that I only want you to tell me if and when you’re ready, so I hadn’t done more than peruse the documents to get an idea of what they were and see if there were any hints as to where they came from. The only clue I have to the sender’s identity is a note where they wrote “Do you know who you’re fucking?” in black marker, but the letters are all blocky, so it’s not even like I can compare handwriting samples or something.”

Bucky’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “Oh, shit. Sugar, I’m so sorry. If someone is targeting you because of me…”

You blew out a raspberry and waved your hand dismissively. “I’m a big girl,” you told him. “I can take care of myself. I have a ton of guns and awards for marksmanship, so don’t worry about me.”

A corner of Bucky’s mouth tugged up. “That’s actually really hot,” he admitted. “Remind me to take you on a date to the shooting range sometime.”

You tried to bite back your grin, but failed miserably. “Cheeky of you to assume there’ll be more dates,” you teased him.

Bucky tightened his grip around your waist. “Are you saying there won’t be?” He looked genuinely concerned, and you didn’t want to tease him.

“That’s gonna depend on you, Bucky,” you told him. “I’m not Jessica, and I’m not going stand by and let you punish me for the ways she mistreated you. I can tell you right now: if you ever talk to me again the way you talked to me in my office, it will be the last time you ever talk to me, at all, do you understand?”

Bucky nodded. “I don’t want to lose you, Major,” he said, and you could feel the sincerity in every word; and you hoped that he would be true to his word. “I promise to never let my anger get the best of me and speak so disrespectfully to you ever again.”

You nodded, satisfied for now. “Good,” you said, standing up from his lap. “Then we can call it a night.”

Bucky rubbed his hands on his knees and stood up. “Uh, yeah,” he said. “I’ll, uh, just be heading back to the Compound, so…”

You tilted your head. “No. It’s late, Bucky. Come to bed.” You reached out a hand, and Bucky’s entire demeanor changed, his face lighting up with surprised, but cautious delight.

“Really?” he asked, as though he almost expected you to pull your hand away from him and tell him you were just joking. 

You shrugged your shoulders. “I missed you,” you said simply. And it was true– it had only been a few hours, really, since your fight, but you had missed him. You had seriously considered that the two of you might be over for good, and you didn’t want to waste an opportunity to be close to him. 

Bucky reached for your hand, pulling you into him in the process. You let out an ‘oof’ as you collided with his chest, but soon his arms were around you, the fingers of his flesh hand tangling in your hair. 

“I missed you, too,” he said, leaning down to kiss you, and you felt yourself melt into his hold, the rough skin of his calloused right hand dragging along the exposed skin of your hip, the cold metal of the left tracing delicate patterns up and down your side. You could forgive him practically anything when he kissed you like this.

“We should go to sleep,” you said, breathlessly pulling away from his lips, “before we get ourselves worked up into a situation.”

He followed you into your bedroom, and you did your best to not ogle him as he stripped down to his boxer briefs. The second he joined you under the covers, you scooted over to snuggle yourself against him.

“You said we can’t get each other off,” you reminded him as you burrowed your head against his hard chest and rested a hand on his ass. “You didn’t say I couldn’t cop a feel.”

Bucky chuckled, wrapping his arms around you, and you could hear the rumble of it through his skin. “Yeah, that’s definitely a loop hole, sugar,” he said. He kissed the top of your head and rested his cheek against it. Slotting his knee between your thighs, the two of you fit together like perfect puzzle pieces. 

“Goodnight, Bucky,” you said, trying to fight off a yawn.

“Goodnight, doll,” he replied, running his hands up and down your back. “Thank you for giving me a second chance. I promise, you won’t regret it.”

As you drifted off to the sound of his heartbeat, you couldn’t help but hope he was right.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[goosewithtwoos]

TOO SWEET

pairing: bob x reader

summary: bobs just too sweet

“You’re just,” you struggle to find the right words. “too sweet.”

Bob furrows his brow. “Too sweet?” He asks, placing down his tea.

“Yeah, that’s you’re problem. You’re too sweet. You let people walk over you. You need to have a bit of a backbone if you want to be respected.” You explain.

The two of you were sitting in his living room, having just come back from a morning run. You hated cardio - weight lifting was a much better workout in your opinion - but Bob was a runner and had wanted you to join him for a run for so long you finally gave in.

His Naval Academy shirt was faded in stark contrast to his blue PT shorts. You’d never be caught dead in PT uniform outside of the work day but somehow he made it work.

During the run, he had been explaining how this new command was trying to keep him from hops and began training him as an unmanned aircraft system operator. Of course, it was nice to have this extra knowledge but he was a WSO and should be treated as such. He talked for most of the run, mainly because you couldn’t speak for more than three sentences without getting winded, so now was your time to offer advice.

“There’s nothing wrong with being firm.” You sip your now lukewarm coffee, making a flippant gesture with your hand.

Bob shifted in his seat. “I don’t want to seem belligerent. It is a good opportunity.”

“But it’s keeping you from your primary job.” You roll your eyes. “Come on, Bobby, you don’t actually want to be some drone operator, do you?”

His eyes dipped. “No.”

“There you go!” You exclaim. “Tell them that. Exactly like that. You want to be a WSO. You’re amazing at your job anyways, they’d be stupid to keep you from it.”

A light dust of pink began to cover Bobs’ cheeks. You knew he had a hard time receiving compliments and always tried to brush them off. Your current attempts at getting him to accept compliments was exposure therapy and you tried to interject as many as possible during your conversations.

“I’m not that good…” He mumbles into his tea as he takes another sip.

You snap your fingers at him, shaking your head. “This is what I mean. You’re letting people get into your head. Take the compliment.” He dipped his head lower, taking another lengthy sip to avoid speaking. “This is where you say, ‘You’re right’ and ‘Thank you, I know I’m amazing’.”

“I can’t say that if it’s not true.”

You couldn’t tell if you wanted to kill him or squish him. He was so adorable and yet made you want to pull your hair out. It was quite a confusing mix.

“Robert. For once, if you’ve ever loved me, take the compliment.” You say, placing down your cup.

He shrugs a little which makes you gasp in mock horror before he smiles. “Of course I love you but it’s just hard to accept.”

You shrink back in your seat, crossing your legs. “Who hurt you?” You mumble more to yourself than to him. “Have you ever taken a compliment?”

“Of course!” He cries.

You raise a brow. “Three examples, now.”

“One, when I received my acceptance to the Academy and had my college counselor beaming with pride. She told me I had done well.” He looked proud of himself remembering that one. “Two, when I graduated and my grandmother came to see me, she said that I was the smartest in the family. And three, when I-“ His voice cut off and his ears went red.

“When?” You press, leaning forward ever so slightly.

He waves you off. “Let me think of something else. It was a bad example.”

“No, no, no,” you push. “Tell me.”

He turned away, unable to meet your eyes. “When I…I went…” his voice was growing smaller by the second. He covers his mouth with the back of his hand ever so slightly before finishing the statement. “on a girl and she called me a good boy.”

You couldn’t stop the laughter that came out of you. You’d never assumed Bob would have a praise kink, and especially not one that consisted of him being called a good boy.

“I’m sorry.” You weren’t. “I just wasn’t expecting that.”

Bob was completely red by this point, opting to drink his tea rather than respond.

“I mean, were you being a good boy?” He chokes.

Sputtering, he looks at you, eyes full of panic. “I can’t answer that!”

“Oh, come on, you can tell me. I told you about my…incidents.” Incidents was a polite way to put it. Bob was the first person you’d go to whenever something had gone awry during on of your hookups due to his understanding and nonjudgmental nature. No matter what you’d say, he’d listen and nod, telling you it was always the mans fault and even though you might have called him someone else’s name, it was his problem for not having a more memorable name.

“I think I was.” He says quietly, shrugging ever so slightly.

“I bet you were.” You hum, finishing off your coffee.

Bob just stares, eyes wide and lips slightly apart. His breath hitched as he tried to form a coherent sentence. A sound that slightly resembles “Huh?” come from him and you roll your eyes.

“You’re always such a good boy, Bobby.” You mean it as a joke. You were saying it in a slightly mocking tone. So why did the words feel so right? Why were they so smooth on your lips? And why - God, why - did they seem to have such an impact on both you and him?

Something changed in his eyes. They glossed over with a feeling you didn’t think you’d ever see in him. Desire. Need.

“Say it again.” It wasn’t a question, he was demanding. Damn his pretty blue eyes.

You swallow hard. This had implications. You could tell how badly he needed it and what it was doing to him. You didn’t want to just fuck with his emotions. But you did mean it. He was a good boy. He’d always helped you with reports and post-flight write ups. He always went out of his way to make sure you were okay. He was such a good boy.

“You’re a good boy.”

His breath was coming out a bit harder now, and his hands had curled into fists like he was trying to keep himself from reaching out and touching you. Not like that would have been a bad thing.

“Can…” His voice failed him. He tried again. “Can I show you?”

“Show me how you’re a good boy?” You ask. Your heart was starting to race. You’d never seen this side of him before. He nods fervently. “Okay.”

It was barely a whisper. You weren’t even sure if a sound came out or you’d just mouthed the words but once you’d said them, that was all he needed.

He grabs you by the back of the head, tangling his fingers through your hair, and pulls you into a lip bruising kiss. This was definitely not sweet. This was needy, urgent, like he wanted to devour you. You kissed back, allowing yourself to melt into him. He was taking and you’d give him everything.

He leaned farther into you, pressing you backwards until you were laying on the couch. He was over you, pressing all his body weight down, and you could feel what suspiciously felt like him grinding against your thigh.

Your arms wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Your hips buck up, desperately trying to chase the friction against him.

His glasses felt cold against your skin and you smiled ever so slightly.

He moans into your mouth and pulls a hand from your hair down to your chest. Your hands grip into his shirt as he paws at you, feeling your ribs, waist, hips, anything he can get his hands on.

“Need to taste you.” He groans out, like it was paining him not to be nose deep within you. “Bet you taste so good.”

You’d never seen a man so worked up before. Bob was panting like he was in heat. And it was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

“I’m still sweaty.” You say between a laugh. He moved down to your neck, nipping at the soft skin, finding any open area and leaving a mark. He groans, pressing himself down against your thigh again.

“Bet it just makes you taste better.”

Your mind was short circuiting. Was this really the same Bob who once cried while watching a nature documentary because a penguin carried around a rock instead of an egg? The same Bob who called you when he got drunk to confess that he’d once stolen a phone charger from some gas station during a cross country trip when he’d lost his wallet at a Waffle House? Somehow, it was.

And this same Bob was pushing your shirt up and pulling your shorts down.

He looks up at you and it was a sight to behold. His mouth was slightly ajar, and his pupils blown completely wide.

“Hold these?” He asks, taking off his glasses and passing them up to you. You put them on, more as a joke than anything, but the moment he saw you wearing them, he surges forwards and kisses you again.

“So pretty.” He moans. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

You would normally feel self conscious but something about him made you feel so safe and secure. You trusted him with everything. He really was -

“Such a good boy.” You murmur as he began sliding down your body again. He stops, dropping his head so his forehead presses against your lower abdomen.

“Again.” He whispers. You could feel his breath tickling ever so slightly.

“Fuck, Robert, you’re such a good boy.” Your hand runs through his hair, pulling slightly before letting go.

He lets out a whimper before getting back to the task at hand, removing your shorts entirely, leaving you in just your underwear with your shirt pushed all the way up. He finds his place between your thighs, throwing your legs over his shoulders. It probably wasn’t the most comfortable position for him but in that moment, you were sure he couldn’t care less.

He licks you through your panties, moaning when your legs tense around his head.

“Please.” You moan when his tongue presses especially well against your clit. “Need you so bad.”

He eyes flit up to yours again, his glasses having fallen partially down your face so you could see just over the rims, and it was a miracle you didn’t come right then and there.

Feral, a man possessed.

He doesn’t even bother taking them off properly, he just pulls your panties to the side and dives in.

It was good. God, it was so fucking good. Your hand finds his hair again, pulling him impossibly closer to you. It was like he knew your body better than you did, the way he could alternate between fucking you with his tongue to sucking on your clit.

“Fuck, Robert,” you cry out. “You’re such a good boy. Oh my God, so good. Such a good boy, holy shit.” You were babbling at this point, the words didn’t make much sense in your mind but your mouth just kept moving. “My sweet boy, my good boy, fuck honey, you’re amazing.”

He pulls away and you want to cry. He presses kisses against your thigh while you try to remember how to breath properly.

“You taste so good. Wanna keep you here forever so I can have this forever.” He says.

You nod in agreement. “Please. You can. Anytime you want.”

His groan sends vibrations through you. You’re mind is a daze. Your hand cups his cheek, gently rubbing the side of his face. His stubble feels rough under your skin but the coarseness only makes your heart swell more.

“Gonna make me come like a good boy?” You ask, voice barely a whisper.

He responds by diving back in, tongue licking up your slit, collecting your wetness on his lips. Your back arches again, hips bucking. His glasses begin to slip off but your mind can’t care about anything other than the man who’s head is currently between your legs, showing you more pleasure than any man has shown you before.

He wraps his arm around so that his hands are free and you can feel his biceps tensing under your legs. The thought of his muscles had never turned you on before but suddenly, it caused a rush of heat to shoot through you.

His thumb comes down to play with your clit while his mouth still works your slit. The light teasing circles from his finger was such a different feeling from how his relentless and eager tongue was bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

You could feel that cool in your stomach tightening. Your hips were bucking more frequently and when you felt his index finger run across your folds, you knew you were a goner.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Robert, please.” You moan.

“You don’t gotta beg.” He tells you, resting his head on your thigh for a moment, taking you in. His fingers were still working you, keeping you right on the edge. “I’ll give you everything you need.” His accent was thicker than normal and you wanted to see just how deep it could get. Another time though, you didn’t want any distractions from this current event.

When his mouth connects with your clit, you swear it was a religious experience, and you were coming before you even realized it.

“Good boy, good boy, good boy.” You keep repeating as he works you down from your high. Finally, once he deems you to be clean enough, he lifts his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Do you uh…do you want anything for yourself?”

He looks to the side sheepishly. “I’m…good.” You sit up quickly and look at him. A wet spot stains his crotch just barely visible in his PT shorts. The thought of him coming just from eating you out sends another wave through you.

Perhaps a five minute intermission before round two wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

[thebisexualdogdad]

can u make a sequel (or maybe even a prequel 😉) to ur tim x male! chen reader fic?

Lucy's brother part 1

Tim Bradford x Male!reader

So finding out that you had slept with your sister's training officer was pretty awkward to say the least but you really liked Tim and talked to them separately to see if there was any possible way you could continue to see him.

They each had valid concerns and neither wanted anyone to think Tim would give Lucy special treatment just because he was dating her brother but after a couple of weeks the two of them decided you and Tim should give this relationship a real shot.

You didn't necessarily keep it a secret but you weren't so open about it either which wasn't hard for Tim since he already preferred keeping his private life private… well, except for his best friend Angela who still found this whole situation quite amusing, most people at the station didn't even know he was gay.

Lucy on the other hand had a much harder time not spilling your relationship to everyone especially Jackson and Nolan.

“Tim seems in a good mood, maybe he'll take it easy on you today,” Jackson laughs as they collect their war bags for their shift.

“Huh? What? I have no idea what you're talking about I wouldn't know why he's in a good mood,” she rambles, avoiding eye contact as she ejects herself from the conversation and hurrying out the door to the patrol cars.

You rarely brought Tim to the apartment, usually spending time at his house to avoid creating any awkward run ins like the time he used your shower after a day at the paintball range and Lucy came home to him walking around in only a towel.

Tonight however Lucy told you she was going to be gone due to plans to go bar hopping with Jackson, Nolan and some of the other rookies they graduated with from the academy and her crashing at Jackson's apartment afterwards.

You took the opportunity to invite Tim over for a date night in, cooking him dinner and watching a movie however the movie was forgotten about half way through when Tim started kissing your neck.

Now you were on top of him making out on the couch, your phone on the kitchen counter where you couldn't hear your it buzzing with texts from Lucy saying how plans changed and Jackson was crashing with you guys instead.

The movie was too loud for you two to hear the front door opening and Lucy turned the light on to the sight of you in Tim’s lap, both of your shirts gone but luckily you were still dressed from the waist down.

“Oh my god,” she says covering her eyes.

“Hey Tim what are you doing here?” Jackson says pretty tipsy, taking him a minute to put the pieces together yet, “woah wait, are Y/N and Tim dating?”

You quickly hop off Tim and you scramble for your shirts, “you can open your eyes Lucy we’re decent.”

“You really couldn't go to your bedroom to do that?” Lucy questions, her words slurred, “now I have to burn the couch.”

“Don't be so dramatic nothing happened,” you sigh, “come on you are both drunk you should drink some water and go to sleep.”

“I can't wait to tell Nolan that you and Tim are dating Y/N, he didn't believe me when I said Tim was totally gay,” Jackson laughs.

After getting Jackson set up on the couch and Lucy in her bed you stand outside your apartment door with Tim saying goodnight to him.

“Sorry our date was a bust,” you apologize.

“It's alright let's just stick to having dates at my place,” he chuckles, “but uh could you talk to Jackson? I don't care if Nolan knows about us but I don't need him going and blabbing my personal business to the whole station.”

“I'll talk to him in the morning,” you smile, “but you know he's gonna tell Angela about this right.”

“Oh great, something else for her to tease me about,” he laughs, kissing you sweetly, “are you still in for the double date with her and Wesley next weekend?”

“Looking forward to it,” you say, kissing him one more time.

Dating your sister's TO was a lot harder to navigate than you thought it would be but you had fallen hard for Tim so you wouldn't change a thing.

[scoonsaliciousupdates]

10.2 Bucky

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Bucky invading privacy and getting the wrong idea, then not letting Major get a word in edgewise.

Word Count: 1.4k

Previously On...: You thought the envelope may have come from Rand, but after talking to him, you're pretty sure he didn't send it.

A/N: Sorry for the delay-- was running errands and thought I would be back in time, but then I got held up at a train crossing :P

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

He was about fifteen minutes early to pick up Major, but if he was being honest with himself, he couldn’t wait to see her again. He missed her every second he wasn’t near her, talking to her, holding her, just being in her presence. He was down bad for the girl, that was for sure, and he was going to take every extra minute he could get with her.

Opening the main door, he walked into the lobby and waved to Zadie as she was having a group of teenagers sign a waiver before arranging to have them go to a room. 

“Hey, Sergeant Barnes!” she called out to him. “Major’s back in her office if you wanted to go surprise her. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind the interruption.” Zadie waggled her eyebrows at the implication, and Bucky stifled a laugh as he made his way back toward the door she’d pointed to.

The door to Major’s office was partially closed, and Bucky knocked, the force of it pushing the door open to reveal the empty office. Bucky stepped inside and, seeing her purse on the edge of her desk, assumed she must have stepped out to use the restroom; he was fifteen minutes early in coming to pick her up, after all. She would have thought she had time.

He used the opportunity to take in her space, the sophisticated office furniture colored in deep, earthy tones that gave Bucky a feeling of calm, similar to what he felt in her presence. He admired some framed medals on the wall from her time in the military, as well as some certificates of accomplishment, and he was pleased to see the orchid he’d bought her resting in a place of pride by the window. 

He ran his fingers over the fuchsia petals, smiling to himself before turning toward her desk.

That was when he saw it. The envelope that had Major so worked up earlier in the day, her name and The WarZone’s Midtown address written in blocky, all caps. He took a step toward it, hand outstretched, but then pulled himself back. No, he thought. He wasn’t going to go through her private work documents. It was none of his business, really.

But… she had been so upset earlier. Maybe there was something he could do to help. He could just take a quick peak; that would totally be fine. He tilted the envelope and a stack of documents and photos came pouring out onto Major’s desk. At first, he couldn’t make sense of what he was looking at, as if the input from his eyes wasn’t making its way to his brain. 

Every piece of paper that had come out of the envelope was about… him. He found himself flipping through the pages, barely allowing the contents to register. They were all photos of him, back when he was still the Asset, committing horrendous crimes. Each document was a report of something he’d done, a person he’d killed. As he flipped through them, his stomach fell through the floor, shame heating his face. Why did she have these? How did she get them?

Had she been looking into him? When she had told him, during their first date, that she would wait for him to tell her about his past when he was ready, had that all been a lie? But why? What would she have to gain from it?

He heard footsteps approaching and in seconds, Major was walking through the door of her office.

“Hey, you!” she exclaimed, her face lighting up in happiness when she saw him standing there. “You’re early! I hope you weren’t waiting too long on me. Just wanted to freshen my face before dinner tonight.” She walked around to where he was standing and draped her arms around his neck, leaning up to kiss him, but Bucky stood still, only turning his face from hers.

She pulled away from him, her expression concerned. “Bucky, what’s wrong?” 

Without thought, his eyes darted to where the documents and photos lay spread haphazardly across her desk. He watched her gaze turn to follow his line of sight, and he saw her posture seem to deflate. 

“Oh,” she breathed out. “Oh, Bucky, honey– I really didn’t want you to see those.”

“I’m sure,” he spat, and was rewarded when she pulled back from him in surprise. “Wouldn’t do you any good if I knew you were digging into my past, would it? Much better to keep me in the dark about it, right?”

“Bucky, what–” she began, but he interrupted her:

“Was all that talk about wanting to wait until I was comfortable with telling you about my past just a lie? Were you so goddamn curious, you couldn’t even wait to find all the gory details for yourself? You wanna know how many people I killed that didn’t make it into those files, because I promise you, sugar, there’s a hell of a lot. You want to know about the time Hydra sent me to kill an ambassador, told me to leave no witnesses, and I took out his wife and his two kids, too? ‘Cause they couldn’t have been more than ten years old. That kind of thing get you off, doll?”

She took a further step back from him, a look of disgust and confusion on her face, and Bucky suddenly didn’t want to deal with it. “You know what?” he said, stepping around her and walking to the door, “Fuck this.” He stormed out of her office and as he stomped through the lobby, he could hear Major calling after him, but he was beyond caring at this point. 

He slammed through the front doors of The WarZone and back onto the street. Hopping onto his bike, he threw on his helmet and kicked it into gear, speeding away from Major and his past as fast as he could.

* 

He reached upstate in record time; he was fortunate he hadn’t gotten pulled over for speeding. He certainly wouldn’t have taken that very well. He stopped at an intersection– one direction would take him back to the Compound, but the other would lead him into town. He considered his options for a split second before making his decision.

A few minutes later, he was pulling up to the front of a modest, but charming farmhouse. His safe haven for when life at the Compound got to be too much for him to handle, and he needed some peace and quiet to just decompress and be himself. He definitely needed that right now.

Bucky walked up the front path and onto the well-tended porch before giving the front door a series of strong knocks. Stepping back, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacked and waited, his eyes resting on the porch swing he had helped build two summers ago. He should probably check the chain to make sure it didn’t need to be oiled.

The door opened and there was Lily, a balm to his ragged psyche. 

“Jamie,” she breathed, obviously surprised to see him. “What are you doing here? I thought you had dinner plans with Nat’s friend.”

Bucky grunted and poked the toe of his boot at a floor board that stuck out a little higher than its neighbor. “Don’t really want to talk about her right now, Lil,” he said. “Can I come in?”

Lily’s eyes widened as she stepped aside, making room for him to enter. “Yeah, of course. Um, I was just thinking of ordering some takeout. Are you hungry? I could get some pizzas.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said as he followed Lily into her kitchen, “that sounds good.” He took off his jacket and draped it over the back of one of her kitchen chairs. “Let me pay this time, though, okay? Since you’ll have to order an entire second pizza just for me.”

Lily smiled at him softly as she picked up her phone and navigated to the delivery app. “Obviously,” she told him with a hint of teasing in her voice. “Ham and pineapple on one, pepperoni on the other?” 

Bucky sat down and stretched his arms over his head. “It’s like you read my mind.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[raya-hunter01]

Not My Sister's Keeper Pt. 7

Roman X OC(Kara)

Jey Uso X OC (Tia)

Rating: 18+

Warning: Smut; sex, fluff, couple arguing, Jealousy, infidelity, pregnancy

Roamn’s wife recently left medical school and returned home to save her marriage. Upon her return, she finds out things are not what they seem. Her sister is pregnant by her best friend Jey Uso, who is also Roman’s cousin, and her husband is acting suspicious.

What happens when a conversation overhead on a baby monitor blows her world apart?

Monday Night Raw

Two hours earlier

Nobody’s POV

“What do you mean I’m suspended?!” Tia screamed as the COO of WWE Paul Levesque cleared his throat.

“I didn’t stutter Tia, you’re outta control. I have given you chance after chance. Last week you almost injured Bayley, you’ve been acting irrational lately and I just think you need some time off to regroup.” Paul said sternly as Tia seemed to be becoming unglued.

“You can’t take this away from me,” Tia pleaded as Tom walked and went to stand next to Paul.

“Tia, your actions have taken this opportunity away from you,” he said as Tia began looking around in a panic.

“This is a mistake,” she whispered feeling her dreams slipping away.

“Then what is this I hear you were harassing Jey tonight?”

“What! I ain’t harassed him. We know each other on a personal level. Did Jey tell you that because if he did, he’s lying!” Tia screamed as Paul shook his head.

“No, Jey didn’t tell me, Tom did. He saw the whole thing. Jey actually tried to play off the seriousness of it but I’m not. You need to get some help Tia,” he said sternly as Tia frowned at Tom.

“Why are you in my business Tom? Look, I don’t need no help, I’m fine.”

“Tia, even after Jey told you to stay away from him you purposely followed him. You just Ignited a confrontation with your sister as he once again tried to deescalate the situation.” Tom said as Tia scoffed at him.

“So, you kept instigating it?” Paul asked as Tia refused to answer.

“Yes, she did and all with a smile on her face.”

“Tom shut up!” Tia screamed as Paul stood up and adjusted his tie.

“Nobody that works here will be sexually harassed or harassed in general. We are up from under Vince’s thumb, and everyone will be treated equally and have a safe work environment,” Paul said as Tia was seething.

“I ain’t did nothing,” Tia protested.

“Sixty days Tia and you will be on the NXT brand when you return. I really hope you can turn this around because another incident and your gone.”

“You can’t do this to me,” Tia cried as Paul sighed, walking over to try to calm her down.

“Tia, use this time to get yourself together. Actions have consequences and I can’t put my talent at risk. This time of reflection will give you and Roman a chance to work out your custody issues as well,” Paul said trying to be sympathetic.

“Yes sir,” she whispered as Paul walked out leaving her alone in her thoughts.

“I’m losing everything…It’s all her fault,” Tia cried as running out of the room bypassing people in the hall, just wanting to get her stuff and leave. Her mother’s words haunting her.

“Tia you dead wrong for what you did and you’re going to reap most of all.”

As she reached the women’s locker room her phone beeped, it was her Where’s My iPhone app. It was alerting her to Roman’s location being close by and he had been there for about an hour.

One night after one of their rendezvous while Roman took a shower, Tia linked his phone to hers to share his location but had hers turned off so he didn’t know she was keeping up with his whereabouts.

“Oh, so have me served custody papers today, then hopped on your little jet trying to tell Ms. Perfect and win her back, huh,” Tia says talking to herself plugging in the address on her phone.

“You can’t get rid of me Roman…Never.”

----

Present Time

Kara’s Condo

Kara’s POV

“Tia, put the gun down,” I pleaded as Roman looked back at me once again, but I was focused on Tia.

“Sorry to interrupt your lover’s quarrel. Wow ten total years together, five of it marital bliss came down to this because of lil old me, huh,” Tia gloated picking up our divorce papers off the table.

“Tia-”

“Kara, it’s going to be ok,” Roman said as I tried not to let my fear show but this fool was in my house pointing a gun.

“Don’t look at her Roman!” Tia screamed as Roman looked back at her.

“Get outta her Kara,” Roman said as I ran back towards the kitchen .

“Get back here or I’ll shoot him.. Do you want to be the reason Logan has no father?” Tia hissed as I stilled in fear having almost made it to the kitchen entrance.

“She ain’t got nothing to do wit this Tia, we can just leave together,” Roman pleaded.

“It has everything to do with her. Turn around bitch!” she hissed as I gritted my teeth trying to hold my tongue as I slowly turned around putting my hands in the air.

“Come on what you tryin’ to do?” Roman asked as Tia chuckled.

“What I should have did years ago…Put her out of her misery..That’ll hit you and Jey right where you stand. Take away the person you both love, it would hurt you, wouldn’t it?" Tia asked, waving the gun at Roman.

“It would, but what about us..If you hurt Kara we can’t be together, tell her Kara,” Roman said as I tried to get my brain to catch up and play along.

“I’m not with Roman, it doesn’t have to go down like this. You have so much going for you,” I said trying to reason with her as she pointed the gun at me, her hand unsteady as I jumped back.

“Aye, take it easy, look me Tia,” Roman said as she seemed to becoming more unhinged by the second.

“Paul suspended me for improper conduct against your little boyfriend for sixty days! One of the higher ups saw it and told. I’m off the main roster, now I gotta to report to NXT after my suspension is over,” she said waving the gun at me.

“What does that have to do with me? You did what you did, Jey didn’t do anything to you.”

“Everything! It has everything to do with you!” Tia screamed as I flinched. “Then this motherfucker here is pining away for you and sending flowers and shit!" She screamed picking up the vase of flowers throwing it at the wall.”

“Tia, take that up with me. You really mad at me, not Kara,” Roman said as she pointed the gun back at him.

“Oh, I was coming around to you, having me SERVED with custody papers just before I leave for work! Really Roman, trying to sue me for sole custody of a child I already gave to you, just to not pay me what you owe me,” Tia said strangely calm, her hand no longer shaking as she held the gun on Roman.

“We can talk about it Tia, just let Kara go,” Roman said as she chuckled.

“Your precious Kara…Always in the way Kara! Hell, you owe me that 50 million I asked for! I gave you something she couldn’t, the baby you always wanted!” she cried pointing the gun back at me as Roman moved in way.

“Move Roman! Let me end this!” She yelled as he refused to move.

“You’re right, Tia, you gave me Logan, our beautiful baby girl and I’m thankful,” Roman said as she nodded, tears streaming down her face.

“I did, and you know I could have loved you better than her. I want to hear her say it because she knows its true!” she cried as Roman nodded.  

“She will,” he whispered as I felt sick to my stomach. Survival was the name of the game and we both had too much to live for.

“Your right, you could have loved him better. You got pregnant and wanted to be a family with Roman, but I was in the way,” I cried as Roman looked back at me as we silently communicated with each other.

 “My own kid hates me; I feel nothing for her!” Tia cried as I took as Roman took a step closer. “Tia, you still got time to bond with her, I can help you,” he pleaded as she seemed to be letting down her defense.

“Kara, your life should have been mine. I was even willing to settle for Jey, but you just had to find out about Roman and me. Then you made Jey leave me….I ain’t got nobody,” she whimpered as a strangled sob escaped her lips.

“Tia, Kara left so we could be together, stuff just didn’t work out,” Roman whispered as she pointed the gun at his head as I screamed.

“Tia, no!!”

“You didn’t give us a chance because you wanted her, Roman! You wanted her!..... Jey wanted her!” She screamed as we stood in scared silence unsure as to what Tia was going to do next. That was until I saw out the corner of my eye the front door opening.

“Kara, I got your food, twins ran up the street to the store for your ginger ale, and some snacks,” Trin said walking in the door on her phone oblivious as to what was going on as Tia turned the gun on her.

“Trin Run!!” I yelled as Roman, and I tried to get the gun from her as  Trin panicked, quickly running back out the door, dropping everything she had in her hands.

“Help! Help us! She has a gun!” I heard her scream as we continued to tussle over the gun.

“Run Kara!” Roman yelled as I ran towards the kitchen to the back door my heart racing as I heard a shot, then silence.

As I opened the door, I heard another shot and instant pain shot through chest as I collapsed to the floor writhing in pain, gasping for air.

It hurt so bad I couldn’t catch my breath, hearing footsteps I tried to pull myself through the open back door but couldn’t move, I was in too much pain.

“Damn, you can’t even die right, can you?” I faintly heard Tia whisper as she turned me over. Her smile chilling me to the core as I silently cried in pain.

“I want to be the last thing you see,” she taunted as I coughed trying to take a deep breath, the pain unimaginable, rendering me speechless. I tried to lift up my head to look in the living room, but I couldn’t.

“Oh, you lookin’ for Roman, huh…..He’s ok, when we fell he hit his head on the end of the table and the gun went off,” She said as I groaned in pain.

“I should have shot him though, all he had to do was love me. You caused this!” she screamed sitting on my chest as I tried to push her off.

“T- T-Tia,” I gasped as she turned my head mushing it against the floor as I cried in relief seeing the knife I had earlier on the floor.

Using the last of my strength, push her off of me, crawling to the knife and laying on it, praying she hadn’t seen it.

“Now is that anyway to treat your sister? You’re supposed to be your sister’s keeper, remember Kara? Remember how we use to say that when we were kids?” she asked kneeling beside me caressing my hair as groaned in agonizing pain.

T-Tia I groaned as she shushed me.

“We even started back saying it to each other when you found out I was pregnant with Logan. Remember how close we had got,” she said as I struggled to breathe through the pain as she grabbed my face, making me look at her. “Do you?!” She shouted.

“Yes,” I finally whispered as she smiled. “Well, now I want you to tell me again. Are you still your sister’s keeper Kara?” Tia asked as I cried out in pain as she pushed down on my back.

“I asked you a question! Are you still your sister’s keeper?!” Tia screamed, turning me over as I held a firm grip on the knife.

Before she could comprehend what was happening, I reached up and stabbed her in the stomach with what little strength I had left.

“Kara,” Tia gasped in disbelief holding the knife lodged in her stomach, looking down at the blood seeping through her shirt and then back at me.

“I’m not… My sister’s….. Keeper,” I whimpered as she smiled pulling the knife out of her stomach and dropping it on the floor beside us gasping in pain.

 “Neither…. Am I,” she groaned, collapsing beside me as I finally gave in welcoming the darkness as I faintly heard Tia moaning beside me in pain.

----

Jey’s POV

“We got to hurry up I got a bad feeling Uce. Kara an Trin ain’t answering their phones,” I said we headed back in the swank gated community. As soon as we pulled in I heard sirens and saw an ambulance. Quickly, I pulled over as they flew past us.

“You right, something wrong, follow them,” Jimmy said as I tried to catch up to the ambulance. My heart dropping to my stomach as we turned down Kara’s street and saw the EMTs rushing inside her house.

“Aye, that’s Trin,” Jimmy said as I sped up seeing she was talking to a cop and was hysterical.

As I slammed on breaks behind the Ambulance, Jimmy hopped out of car running to Trin as I put the car in park.

“Trin what happened?” Jimmy asked as she ran into his arms.

“Tia had a gun! She almost shot me; I heard two shots! She killed Kara and Roman! They saved me and she killed them!” Trin cried hysterically as Jimmy took her in his arms trying to calm her down as I ran past them going inside.

“You can’t go in there the cop!” yelled as I ignored him. Nothing was going to stop me from getting to Kara.  In the living room, I saw one of the parametics working on Roman.

He was sitting on the floor as the paramedic tried to stop the bleeding from his head. Wait where did the other one go? Where’s Kara?

“John! I need some help in here! Dispatch, I got a female with a gunshot wound to the chest, the bullet seems to have gone straight through and another female with a stab wound to the abdomen. My gunshot victim isn’t breathing! We need more units and police backup!” he yelled.

“It’s not Kara…. It’s not Kara,” I whispered over and over slowly waking, past Roman not even caring what he was trying to tell me.

As I walked into the kitchen the air left my body as my worst fear had been confirmed seeing the paramedic performing CPR on Kara’s lifeless body.

“Kara,” I said in shock, walking closer to be sure my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me.

“Baby,” I whispered kneeling beside her as the other paramedic that was working on Roman, rushed in and began working on Tia.

I glanced at her as she smiled grunting in pain.

“She’s dead Jey,” she rasped as I looked back at Kara in disbelief.

“Look, if you going to be in here, I need your help,” the paramedic said as I nodded. “W-whatever you need,” I said has he guided my hand to Kara’s chest. “She’s losing a lot of blood I need to you apply pressure here with this towel,” he said as I followed his directions.

“What’s her name?” he asked as I tried to wrap my head around the fact Tia shot Kara, I almost didn’t hear him.

“Kara..Her names Kara ,please help her,” I whispered as he stopped compressions.

“Come on Kara, I need you to breathe for me, ok?” he encouraged tilting her head back and blowing air into her mouth.

“Please breathe baby, we just getting started now. Come on breath Kara,” I cried not knowing if I was coming or going as I faintly heard the other paramedic talking to Tia.

“She’s dead right?” Tia gasped as I growled in frustration and anger.

“She ain’t dead! But you keep talkin’, you will be!” I hissed as she finally stopped talking. A few seconds later I heard the wheels on the gurney leaving the room.

“Yes, get her the fuck outta her before I kill her myself.”

“Kara breath,” I heard Roman whisper as I refused to look at him, focusing on Kara.

This ain’t it, I refuse to believe that. She’s gon’ be ok….

“Kara, come on breathe, we gotta a date remember. I’ll take you anywhere you wanna go baby, just breath,” I sniffed refusing to wipe my own tears knowing I would have to stop putting pressure on her wound.

I panicked even more as I the paramedic pulled out an AED machine and  began putting patches on Kara.

“When I say clear I need you to move, I’m going to try to jumpstart her heart…. 1, 2,3, Clear!” he shouted as I moved my hand and Kara’s chest lifted up in the air before becoming still again.

It was like I was watching myself outside my body as he began to count down again.

“Clear!” He shouted once again trying to shock Kara heart into rhythm but this time as I placed my hand back on her chest, I felt it rise and fall under my hand.

“I got her back! He yelled as released the breath I was holding leaning down kissing Kara on the temple

“Kara, its Josh…I love you so much…You hear me I’m here and I ain’t goin’ nowhere,” I reassured her before the other unit of paramedics came rushing in.

 I moved out of the way to let them work. but still stood where I could see her. Everything was moving so fast after that point as I watched them get her stabilized and on the gurney.

“Dispatch, Let the hospital know we’re on the way, we need all hands-on deck. We should be your way in about seven minutes.”

“Calling now unit 7, have a safe ride.”

“I’m coming wit her,” I said as the paramedic nodded in understanding as we made our way through the living room.

“Jey, is she ok?” Roman asked as I looked at him like he was stupid as another a paramedic was helping him on a gurney.

“What do you think?! That crazy bitch shot her in the chest, and it’s all your fault because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants,” I said not sparing him a glance following the Paramedics out with Kara.

“Jey, I’m sorry!” Roman yelled as I tuned him out.

All that mattered right now was Kara…I couldn’t lose her..Not now.

“Oh, my God Kara!” Trin screamed running over as they loaded Kara in the ambulance. “Take the car I left the keys in it,” I said watching them secure Kara in the back of the ambulance

“We right behind ya’ll Uce,” Jimmy said as I nodded hoping in the back of the ambulance holding Kara’s hand. “Aye, it’s me don’t check out on me yet, you hear me,” I whispered kissing her gently on the forehead as the paramedics continued to work.

The sirens wailing as we sped through traffic has me on edge. She had to be ok.. Looking out the back window I saw Jimmy speeding to keep up with us. Is all this really happening?

“You’re going to see a doctor and some nurses. They are going to take her straight to the OR and you won’t be able to go back with her but they will put you in a room in the ER until we know if she’s going to a regular room or ICU.”

“A’ight, they bout to take you for a minute Kara, but I’mma be right there when they bring you back to your room,” I reassured her as I felt her squeeze my hand as I cried in relief.

“Yea, let me know you hear me beautiful. I love you so much.”

Once we pulled up to the hospital everything moved so fast as the nurses and doctors met us at the ambulance. I felt helpless as they took Kara and rushed inside.

One of the nurses was nice enough to walk me to a room. I looked down at my white shirt and my hands stained with Kara’s blood and felt myself losing it. Going in the bathroom to the sink I  scrubbed my hands.

The sight of her blood washing down the drain is something I will never forget.

“Jey,are you in here. we’re here,” Trin said as I came out the bathroom and sat down as she Kneeled in front of me. It seemed like everything was catching up to me.

“She died on me, Trin,” I whispered as Trin looked at me in shock.

“What?”

“At the house… Her heart stopped.”

“Jey,” Trin whispered pulling me in her arms as I growled in frustration.  “Tia was laughin' sayin' she was dead,Trin” I whispered still in disbelief as Jimmy sat beside me and wrapped his arm around us both.

“But they got her back, we gotta focus on that,” he said as I looked up and Roman being wheeled into the room across the hall.

“Kara is fighting for her life and this motherfucker just got a bloody head. Now, I gotta call Kara’s mom-”

“They sent a unit to notify them, her parents know and are on the way.” Jimmy said as Trin wiped my tears.

“I’ll go see if there’s any updates,” Trin said as I nodded, letting her go as she got up and left.

“She says Roman and Kara saved her life,” Jimmy said as I nodded watching her go into Roman’s room.

“I know, I just can’t right think about all that right now.”

“We ain’t gotta say nothin’ Uce, just let me us be here for you,” Jimmy said as we sat in silence waiting for word on Kara.

---

Roman’s POV

“Mr. Reigns we want to keep you a couple days for observation, you have a concussion and I’m going to go put in the orders for a local you’re going to need stitches.”

“What about my wife Kara, she was brought in along with her sister.”

“Mr. reigns your wife is in surgery, and they are doing everything they can.”

“Ex wife-” Trin corrected as I sighed laying back on the bed.

“Trin, I know that…. Look are you ok? I asked as she nodded her head as the nurse left us alone.

“Yea, I’m ok..I just wanted to make sure you are ok and to tell you thank you. You and Kara saved my life.”

“You’re my family Trin, you know I love you.”

“I love you too. I called your mom, and she should be calling you in a bit. I had to calm her down, she was under the impression you went out to maybe clear your head after receiving the divorce papers but you all the way out here in Boston..Why?” she asked as I sighed.

“Trin it’s like I’m losing my mind, I saw Kara on Jey’s Instagram live and just went nuts. Next thing I know, I’m on my jet here trying to find out if they are in a relationship or not. The longer I looked around the house-”

“Looked around the house? I highly doub-” She started the words dying on her lips as she saw me drop my head in shame.

“Trin-”

“You were in the house when she got there!” Trin yelled as I rubbed my temples, knowing how bad it sounded.

“Trin, I was just going to talk to her, then I saw Jey’s shit in her room-”

“Roman, don’t even talk no more you pissin’ me off because you had no right doin’ no shit like that. Have you lost your fuckin’ mind?” Trin asked looking at me in pure disappointment.

“I know it’s insane Trin, but I just love her. We argued, she told me to leave and as I went to open the door there’s Tia standing there with a gun.”

“How the fuck did she know where Kara lived, did you tell her? Did you set this shit up so you could get custody of logan?” Trin asked firing off questions that really hurt me that she would think I would do something like that to Kara.

“No! She had my location; some shit she did to my phone apparently when I wasn’t around. She’s lost her mind Trin,” I said still not truly believing what had happened tonight.

“And so have you breaking into people’s homes and waiting for them in their bedroom,” she countered with her arms crossed as I sighed, knowing she was right.

“You right, I had lost my mind, but I damn sure found it when I opened that door and saw Tia with that gun.”

“Roman do you love Kara?” Trin asked as I felt offended by the question. Did she not see me earlier staring down the barrel of a gun to protect Kara?

“What kind of question is that. I would die for Kara, of course I love her. I just jumped at a gun to protect you because I love you too, I love all ya’ll,” I said as Trin nodded, seemingly in deep.

“We love you too, in spite of everything you’re going to always be family but in order for us all to begin healing… Like really heal…..You gotta make it right, and let it go Roman,” Trin pleaded as I felt as if I couldn’t breathe.

“I know,” I whispered overwhelmed because I knew she wasn’t saying it to hurt me, it was coming from a place of love.

I didn’t think I had that anymore from her or anyone in my family besides my mom, but guess I was wrong.

“If you love her…..Like truly love Kara like you say you do. Prove it… Let her go and let her be happy, so we can all move past this and try to be some kind of a family again,” Trin cried walking out of the room without another word.

I needed to let go but I don’t know how….But Trin was right, if I loved her, I needed to prove it.

“God, if you bring Kara through this…..I’ll do right…I’ll make it right, I swear,” I silently prayed as I felt the world on my shoulder because deep down I knew Jey was right.

I set this all in motion…Everything that happened was my fault.

----

Trin’s POV

Talking to Roman sucked the life out of me but I knew after what Jey had said earlier, I knew I needed to see one other person to see.

 “Excuse me, is Tia Morris able to have visitors I’m her cousin,” I said as the nurse smiled. “Uh, for the moment, but the police are on the way to question her. I can let you see her though, she’s in room 11,” she said leading me to the dim light room.  I frowned quickly seeing Tia sleeping but played it off by smiling at the nurse as I saw her head over to wake up Tia.

“Oh, I’m just going to sit with her. You don’t have to wake her up. I know the cops are going to keep her busy with their questions,” I said as the nurse patted me on the shoulder. “Ok, I’ll leave you to it sweetie,” she whispered walking out and closing the door.

Walking over to the door behind her, I closed the curtain before slowly walking over to her bed as Tia slept.

This bitch in her sleeping peacefully and Kara’s in surgery fighting for her life.

Reaching above her head I got a pillow. Now I wasn’t gonna kill her, but she damn sure was going to feel the struggle to breathe like Kara did.

“Tia,” I whispered, as she moaned turning her head as I pushed the pillow over her face as she tried to push away.

 Hearing the machine beeping fast, I pulled the pillow away as she gasped for air, the machine’s beeping returning to normal.

“What are you doing?” Tia coughed as I put the pillow over her face again as she helplessly tried to push against the pillow again, this time I released the pillow before the machine started beeping faster.

“You’re crazy,” Tia cried as I looked at her with disgust.

“I’m glad you realize that…..But I ain’t gon’ kill you…I just want you to feel how Kara felt as she laid lifeless on the ground beside you while you laughed,” I said remember Jey’s words, which made me even more angry.

Hysterical Trin was long gone now.

Grabbing her by the throat, I got in her face to make sure she heard me loud and clear.

“If you come near Kara, Jey, Jimmy, Logan or Roman again I will kill you. See you batshit crazy but you ain’t met real crazy yet, and I promise this ain’t what you want. I don’t take kindly when people fuck with my family,” I said calmly as Tia moaned in pain.

“Kara’s not your family,” she gasped as I slapped her before I could stop myself. I wanted to beat her ass, but I knew I couldn’t leave marks to give away what I had been doing in here.

Pushing her head against the pillow, I leaned over to whisper in her ear.

“You ain’t got a sister no more…She’s my sister, always have been. You don’t deserve her love or loyalty, or to even be in her presence,” I hissed as she groaned in pain as I pushed down on her stomach slightly, knowing it was causing her unimaginable pain.

“Trin, please.” Taa cried as I ignored her pleas.

“Trin please what? You want me to show you mercy? Did you show Kara mercy when you shot her, huh?” I whispered as she cried.

-----

Jey’s POV

“Uce, something ain’t right,” Jimmy said as I nodded in agreement.

“Yea, Trin been gone a minute.”

“I know she ducked out to see Roman, she had promised auntie she would look out for him, and for her just take care of Logan.”

“Let’s go see if she’s still across the way.” As we walked in and saw the room empty. We went to the nurse’s station.

“Excuse us, our cousin was in the room over there and he’s not there, is he ok?” Jimmy asked as the nurse smiled.

“Oh, he’s been transferred upstairs to a room, they are keeping him a few days,” she said as it dawned on me.

“Fuck,” I whispered as Jimmy looked at me.

“What?”

“Tia,” I whispered as Jimmy’s eyes bout popped out of his head in realization.

“Um, have you seen this woman,” I asked as Jimmy’s phone showed the nurse his screen saver.

“Sure, a real sweetie, said she wanted to see her cousin. I took her to room 11.”

“Um, thank you, we’ll just drop in for a second to see her too,” I said as Jimmy, and I tried to play it cool leaving the nurses station, but as soon as we hit the corner, we took off running towards Tia’s room.

Seeing the curtain closed, we rushed in and there was Trin sitting on the edge of the bed whispering something to Tia as she quietly sobbed.

“Trin let’s go baby, we been looking for you,” Jimmy said as Trin got up off the bed.

“They going to put you under the jail and if they don’t and you fake your way outta this….Just remember what I said Tia, and just know I don’t miss,” Trin said before walking past Jimmy and me.

“None of us were never here,” I said, as Tia nodded, wiping her tears as Jimmy and I left. As we rounded the hall, I saw two cops heading towards Tia’s room.

“Good, put her ass in jail,” I muttered going back into the room with Jimmy and Trin to wait to hear about Kara.

----

Five Hours Later

Jey’s POV

Trin and Jimmy had fallen asleep on the couch, but I still was wide awake. I couldn’t sleep until I knew how Kara was doing, the little updates from the nurses weren’t easing my fears at all.

 Deciding to stretch my feet I walked into the hallway and was met by the doctor.

“Mr. Fatu we just got done about thirty minutes ago,” he said as I took in his appearance, he seemed worried. “Hey, how is she?” I asked almost afraid of the answer.

“She made it through surgery, but the next 72 hours are critical. We were able to stop the bleeding and get the rest of the bullet fragments out.”

“Thank God.”

“She’s a fighter, it was touch and go for a while but she made it through,” he said with a tired smile.

“Thank you so much for everything…..When can I see her?”

“You can see her now; they just took her to ICU. She’s very lucky, half an inch to the right it would have been fatal,” he said as I felt the tears coming. I could have lost her…

“Uh, let me get up my family so we can head dat way,” I whispered walking back to the room to wake up Jimmy and Trin.

The long walk and elevator ride quiet, as we made our way up to ICU floor. As we waited for them to buzz us in Trin reached over and gave me a hug.

“You go in first Jey… Just tell her we love her,” Trin said as I sighed truly thankful for her.

She acted fast, called 911 and got Kara help.

“I will sis, and thank you,” I whispered as she nodded. “No, tell Kara thank you for saving my life,” she whimpered as I rubbed her back.

“I’m going to let you tell her for yourself,” I said as she smiled at me wiping her tears before going to sit with Jimmy.

Walking through the hall I felt anxious I needed to see her. The first room I saw had a cop sitting on the outside of it with the door open.

Curiosity getting the better of me, I looked over and there was Tia asleep handcuffed to a bed.

“Kara’s room is over here, Mr. Fatu,” the doctor said beckoning me further down the hall.

I hated she had to be on the same floor as Tia but at least it was some space between them, but I didn’t want to take that chance.

“Doc, I know she’s not stable but after her parents get here and she becomes stable can she be transferred out to another hospital. The person that attacked her is in here and I don’t feel comfortable.”

“I’m one step ahead of you. Her sister will be transferred when she is stable enough. Until then she will have an officer on her at all times and will be handcuffed to the bed,” he said still not putting me at ease.

I didn’t want Kara anywhere near that crazy nut.

Walking in her room I wasn’t prepared to see her lying in that bed looking so helpless. I went to sit by her trying to be mindful of the wires taking her hand in mine.

“I’m back beautiful, just like I promised. Now about this date, where you wanna go,” I whispered kissing her hand praying she would open her eyes and talk to me.

No response, sighing I reached over and kissed her temple. “That’s ok we can talk later, just rest,” I whispered sitting back down in my chair laying my head on the bed just looking at her.  watching the rise and fall of her chest, just thankful she had made it through the surgery. A sudden moan from Kara almost startled me.

“Kara, you ok baby?” I asked as she whispered something, but I couldn’t make out what she was saying as she eyes fluttered open, then closed back again.

“Balcony picnic date,” she whispered a little louder as I laughed.

“Kara, of all the places I can take you and you want to have a picnic on my balcony in Pensacola.”

“Yes, that’s what I want,” she whispered opening her eyes to look at me as I kissed her hand.

“You can have anything you want loʻu loto,” I said as she gave me tired smiled, still having a hard time trying to keep her eyes open.

“Get some rest, I ain’t going nowhere, we can talk when you get up.”

“I have to tell you something first,” she said as I pulled the covers up a little trying to help her get as comfortable as she could considering the hell she had just been through.

“Ok….What you gotta tell me that can’t wait beautiful?” I asked sitting back in my chair just happy she was awake and was talking to me.

“I love too, Josh,” she whispered before closing her eyes and drifting off back to sleep as I finally allowed the tears to pour from my eyes.

“I love you more.”

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[avenging-fandoms]

i know this will sound too weird, but can i request something for sin hours? where y/n is also a singer and she meets harry at the studio, they're both tired but end up having some... fun? LMAO i'm so weird (btw, i love your work and hope you're fine!)

*you know the faint moaning in 'cinema'? just.. you'll see*

**kinda long.. bear with me. i love this fic

*it's smut. if you don't like it, that's okay! i'm sure there's other great harry fics. if you aren't 18+ FUCK RIGHT OFF

-

You had just flown in from Japan that morning, but you couldn't turn down the opportunity to work with Harry Styles. Harry never did collaborations on albums but you two wanted to work together.

The building was nice, and outside stood Harry with a few other people. You hop out of the car with a smile, Harry's arms immediately opening and you couldn't help but squeeze him a bit. "I have loved you for so long, this is a dream."

Harry grabbed your shoulders and bent down a bit. "I have been obsessed with you for a long time, your lyrics are amazing." He compliments you and you can't help but blush. Harry flashes a smile before introducing you to the people outside. "Shall we begin?"

The session was supposed to start at 8, but you guys didn't officially start until 9:45. You all got caught up talking about deep things, adventures, advice. It was like you had known these people for years and you had just met them an hour ago.

When the session actually started, it was like magic as you two worked with one another. Correcting or changing something the other does politely, so many compliments and singing harmonies together.

"Yn, get in there with Harry and sing the harmony with him." You open your mouth to speak, but you just stutter. "You did it out here, go ahead."

You head into the room as you gulp and Harry holds out a pair of headphones. He counts you two down and the music starts, the both of you singing, enjoying how you sound together so much you can help but sing the whole song with him.

The audio ends and you let out the biggest yawn. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I just flew in from Japan this morning and did not get as much sleep as I needed when I got home." He holds the door open for you and you thank him quietly.

"I completely get it, I just came back from Greece." You sit on the couch and he sits next to you with a bit of space, listening to you both singing. "That sounds incredible," Harry looks at you and grabs your thigh. "You are incredible."

You inhale sharply, your lips becoming dry as you open your mouth. Your tongue pokes out slowly and he watches. "Thank you."

Harry winks and looks away from you, standing up. "Let me sing what we have for 'Cinema.' It's just the beginning?" He asks and you couldn't answer, you had no idea was 'Cinema' was.

The music started to go and he started to sing. You watched as he sang, closing his eyes softly, moving his mouth to the side sometimes. "If you're getting yourself wet for me, I guess you're all mine."

You move a leg over the other and lean forward, hand over your mouth. That was so fucking hot.

An hour later, a few people had to leave, then 20 minutes later everyone else left, you and Harry saying you're going to stay to record some more.

""Cinema' is quite the risqué song, Mr. Styles. I love it." You smile as you sit on the stool. Harry smirks as he closes the door, standing in front of your microphone.

"It's missing something though, don't you think? Especially in the beginning." He moves next to you, moving his stool behind you and you lick your lips quickly with an excited shiver.

"Yes.. but.. what were you thinking?" You ask quietly, looking up as he towered over you. His hand holds your cheek softly, inhaling slowly with a smile.

"I want something faint in the background. A noise. And with the lyrics in the song.." His lips kissing your neck softly, your hands immediately grabbing the back of his biceps and whimper.

"Harry.."

"Something like that, yeah." He chuckles and pulls away, laying you back against the stool. "Is it okay if I touch you?"

"Yes, oh god yes please." You beg and he moves his microphone next to him by your head. His fingers pull up your shirt a bit, pushing into your sweatpants and into your underwear. Your hips move in the air as you tried to get his hand closer, but he didn't move.

"So responsive. Do you like being touched?" He leans over you, hips in front of your face with his hard on pressing through his sweatpants. You drop your jaw and pull the waist band down and moan when his dick is exposed.

"Do you?" You ask, spitting in your hand and stroking him slowly, moaning as he slides two fingers into you. You moan and shake your hips, moving them against his hand. His palm rubs your clit as you do, your hand moving faster as your orgasm approached quickly. "Fuck me, Harry."

"Are you sure? I don't have.. I'm clean."

"Me too. And I'm on birth control. Just please fuck me." Harry picks you up over his shoulder, putting you on the couch and pulling off his hoodie, to which you took off your shirt. Harry kissed you and held your breasts in his hands, twisting and pulling and flicking your nipples as he pushes you back against the couch.

"I need a taste." Harry hums, disappearing between your legs and immediately moving his tongue all over your pussy. You gasp and grip his hair, rolling your hips and shaking. "So fucking delicious." You pulled him in for a kiss, Harry locking his arm under your knee and bend the other one. "Put it in."

You smile and grab his dick, sliding his tip up and down your pussy. "Fuck.." You throw your head back and Harry moves his dick against your clit, and you could cum just then. Harry got impatient and did it himself, the both of you moaning.

"How far is too far with you, Yn? Kink wise." He asked, moving in and out of you slowly. You bite your lip, holding his chin and pushing your thumb in his mouth, pulling him towards you.

"Show me what you got, Styles."

Harry picks your hips up off the couch and fucks you into him, your hands holding desperately onto his arms. He slowed down and flipped you over, pulling your hips up and holding your wrists behind your back as he fucks you roughly.

"Fuck.. fuck.. Harry.." Your fingers tried to grab anything, but he had a tight grip with just one hand. The other hand laid hard smacks on your ass, then gripping your hair tightly and forcing your head back.

Harry let go of your hands and held your hip, twisting your hair around his fist. You sit up and Harry pulls out of you, the both of you on your knees as you kiss him roughly. You sit him down on the couch and push his legs out, sitting on his lap and moaning as you slide onto him.

"Your moans are just as pretty as you sing." He whimpers, kissing your neck as you bounce on him. You lay back and hold his knees as you continue to bounce your hips. Harry's thumb rubs your clit and your moans harmonize together, your orgasm quickly approaching.

You sit up and grip the hair on the back of his head, biting his jaw and collarbone. "Can I leave marks?"

"I wish you could, but all my outfits expose my neck and chest." He throws his head back and closes his eyes. "Where can I cum, sweetheart?"

"In me." Your arms wrap around his neck and he laughs.

"Are you sure? That's very risqué." His nails scratch down your back and thrusts his hips up. Harry's mouth kisses down your chest, moaning against your tits as his nails dig in your skin.

"Come on, Harry. Come on.." You smile, brushing your hair out of your face. Your fingers trace his features and watching as he cums, smiling slowly as you hear him whimper your name.

"Did you..?" You shake your head and his eyes widen, now pushing you back against the couch and wrapping his left hand around your throat, ring and middle fingers on his right hand quickly fucking you.

You gasp and hold onto his arm for dear life, moving your whole body and screaming his name. "Good girl, good job." He breathes, pulling out of your slowly and kissed you gently. "Wait here."

You laid on the couch with a bright smile on your face, Harry coming back a few minutes later with towels. "Towels? At a studio?"

"Sometimes I get sweaty when recording, I just get really into it." He shrugs, spreading your legs open delicately as he cleaned you up while humming.

You sigh contently and close your eyes, Harry continuing to hum as he kissed your thigh, your hip, your stomach. You smile and move your head, licking your lips. He kissed your chest, your collarbone, your neck, your jaw, your lips.

"I'm going to need more studio sessions with you."

[fluentmoviequoter]

Mini Me and Dogs

Requested Here! | Part 2 of Mini Me

Pairing: Tim Bradford x shy!fem!reader

Summary: The godfather of your twins (soldier) brings his friends and some dogs to visit you in the hospital. While everyone tries to make you shy, the dogs and your new friend help you out.

Warnings: softie Tim, fluff, Kojo!

Word Count: 1.3k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Picture from Pinterest

“Are you done?” you ask. “Boot and I would like to turn around now.”

“We’re not calling them Boot and Tiny Tim.” You move your head to glance at Tim, and he takes the opportunity to lean closer. “Besides, as the father of your children, I have every right to stare at you.”

“I miss soldier.”

Tim’s smile falls as he rolls his eyes, moving away from you to pick up your other baby.

“Sorry, Tim,” you whisper.

“He’s coming back,” Tim grumbles. “I’m not going to be able to get a moment of peace with him as the godfather, am I?”

“Nope,” Angela says as she and Wesley walk into the room. “But, if you need a babysitter to escape from him, you know where to find me.”

“Right, because we don’t have our own kids to take care of,” Wesley adds, smiling at you.

“Knock, knock,” your favorite nurse and new friend calls. “You’ve got a couple of good-looking soldiers waiting down the hall. You want me to send them in or can I keep one for myself?”

You smile at her teasing before nodding. “They can come in. But I’m not sure they’re in your league.”

“Oh, hun, you flatter me. But your mom brain is already activated. Have you seen those gentlemen?”

“What is this?” Tim asks Angela.

“You’re jealous, Timothy,” she answers. “Soldier and all of his good-looking friends intimidate you, right?”

“No!”

“Good job, Tim,” Wesley interjects. “Very non-jealous answer.”

“How did I go from the one who teases my wife to the one being tortured by everyone in the room? Including my kids!” Tim exclaims.

“They like me more,” you say quietly, your attention back on the baby in your arms.

“That part I understand,” Tim replies. “It’s everything else.”

“Welcome to my world.”

“If you think this will make me stop, you’re wrong.”

Your shoulders fall as you sigh, wildly in love with Tim but still affected by every word and look he sends you.

“Hey, I brought you a surprise,” soldier says as he’s escorted to the room.

“I’m not playing another Disney song for you, I don’t think mama’s heart can take it,” your nurse says.

“No, this isn’t that good. Are you ready?”

You nod slowly, hoping that his surprise is good and not what he and Tim consider good surprises, which are usually more entertaining for them than you. When he drops an arm, you raise in the bed to look at him. A leash hits the floor, and Kojo runs into the room, sliding to a stop beside you. He tilts his snout and sniffs the baby in your arms before raising a paw.

You don’t have time to do anything before the nurse taps the foot of the bed. Kojo immediately hops up, lying beside your legs and pressing his nose to the blanket wrapped around Boot.

“Hey, buddy,” you greet, moving a hand to pat his head. “You’re such a good boy.”

You don’t see it, but Tim sends a grateful smile and nod to soldier, thanking him for thinking of Kojo and how much you love him. Kojo was by your side throughout your pregnancy, cuddling you, whining when you did too much, and keeping his head on your bump as it grew. Tim has never been so happy as when he sees Kojo in the bed with you and one of his sons.

“One more surprise?” soldier asks.

“Can I handle it?” you ask quietly.

 “Who cares?” Angela asks happily. “Do it, soldier.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies playfully before stepping to the side.

You hear a few excited footsteps before another dog joins Kojo on the bed. Adorned in his military K-9 harness, soldier’s dog wags his tail as he sniffs your hand and Boot’s blanket. Boot coos, and across the room, Tiny Tim wiggles in Tim’s grasp.

“Is it too late to return them?” Tim asks as he walks to your side.

Soldier’s dog glances up quickly, alert at the sudden movement. When he sees Tim and another baby, he relaxes, wagging his tail as he stretches to nudge his nose against Tiny Tim’s side.

“Last one, I promise,” soldier says as he steps inside.

Two of his military friends you’ve come to know over the years follow him inside, smiling as they congratulate you on two beautiful boys. They set a gift bag on the table by your bed, and you thank them softly.

“May I?” soldier asks, reaching for Boot.

“Careful,” Tim warns.

“I know,” soldier answers, cradling Boot against his chest as he introduces him to his friends.

Soldier’s dog moves closer to you now that you’re not holding a baby, sniffing you all over as you laugh. He lays his head on your chest, grunting when anyone moves. Kojo follows him, laying his head on your stomach and rubbing his chin against your hospital gown.

“Well, Tim, it seems you really have been replaced,” Wesley jokes. “Another man holding your baby, two strong guys protecting your wife while she heals. What does she need you for?”

“To have the babies,” you say under your breath.

Tim smiles, close enough to hear you. “And to make you shy,” he adds.

You hum, and Angela laughs. She checks her phone when it chimes, showing Tim a message before they both look up at you.

“What?” you ask, tucking your head toward one shoulder at their undivided attention.

Kojo huffs as Tim sets Tiny Tim back in the crib. You smile, glad to know that Kojo already loves the twins.

“Everything going okay in here?” your nurse asks.

Your eyes are still on Tim and Angela, so you don’t answer. Angela nudges Tim, and he sighs, running a hand through his hair as he steps toward you. Soldier’s dog lowers his snout, prepared to defend you if necessary; he perks his ears, listening to your breathing change as you grow worried and shy.

“Tim,” you beg, “just tell me.”

“My extra time off got approved,” he answers.

You take a deep breath, and soldier’s dog stands to sniff your chest and throat, looking for any sign of injury or unknown threat.

“It’s okay,” soldier calls. “Lay down.”

“Why do you do this to me? After everything I’ve done to give you those perfect babies,” you murmur.

“Speaking of those perfect babies,” your nurse interjects. “You have been cleared to take them home.”

She walks closer to your bed, smiling at one of soldier’s friends. After she explains what you should do after you get home for yourself and your boys, you sigh.

“Have any tips for dealing with him?” you whisper, pointing to Tim as he talks to soldier.

“Don’t let him get away with so much,” she answers, as if it’s that easy.

“Yeah, she can’t do that,” Angela interjects. “She’s shy and he takes advantage of it. Considering the fact that they’re married and have babies, though, I’m not convinced she really minds.”

“Here is my number,” your nurse says, passing you a piece of paper. “I’d be happy to date one of those guys over there and keep your husband in line.”

“I knew I liked you,” Angela says.

“At least you two know how to be nice to me and the boys,” you whisper to the dogs beside you.

“She married Tim for Kojo,” Angela tells your nurse.

“Whoa,” Tim calls, turning toward you with both twins in his hold. “You’re still not funny.”

“She’s hysterical,” Wesley replies, smiling when Angela points to him.

“Soldier?” you ask. “Can I keep your dog?”

“No. But I’ll bring him by more often. Since he likes you more than me.”

“Welcome to my world,” Tim replies, looking into your eyes as he repeats your earlier sentiment.

“It’s discharge time, Mr. Bradford,” your nurse interrupts, winking at you. “Sorry, folks, but that means unless you’re mom or dad, it’s time to go.”

Kojo whines when soldier clips his leash on, refusing to leave your side. Tim takes the leash, calling Kojo. He stands slowly, keeping his head down as he obeys as slowly and sadly as possible.

“We’ll be home soon, Kojo. You can choose some new nicknames, bud,” Tim tells him.

“I’ll drop him by your place and make sure everything’s set up for you,” soldier offers.

“And we filled up your pantry and fridge this morning,” Wesley adds as he steers Angela toward the door. “Congratulations again.”

Once the room is empty except for your husband and babies, you lean against the pillow behind you.

“Am I going to have to carry you out, too?” Tim asks, running his fingers over your collarbone and up your neck.

“Would you?”

Tim smiles, leaning closer to you. “You know I will, gorgeous.”

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Your robin and franky fic was chefs kiss but would you be willing to write some solo franky?? Im really into water 7 franky and would love to see what you’d come up with !!

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING FOR THIS! YALL I promise you any time anyone requests a Franky fic I WILL BE WRITING THAT SHIT. This is my dream man and no one gives me enough opportunities to write for him! So, I'm sorry I turned this into a smutty nightmare if you wanted fluff... I just need to service the Fellow Franky Fuckers out there.

Pairing: (pre timeskip) Cyborg Franky x Fem!Reader

WC: 2800

Taglist: @generaldaij0bu you might need to see this

Summary: The Sunny malfunctioning is driving you up a wall. You make a request for repairs and end up getting way more than you bargained for in the workshop.

TWs: ROBO-BONING, BABES! P in V sex, unprotected sex (pls don't) sex toy use, forced orgasm, safe words, light bdsm, communication is key and Franky respects it so hard and he's so hot for it, very much dirty talk...

Too Hot (+18)

— — 

It was hot. 

The sun beat down on the Sunny all day and the unwavering heat was barely dispelled after sunset due to the humidity. You lay sprawled on the deck next to Usopp and Chopper, groaning in the unbearable heat. 

“I think I’ll die here…” Chopper groans with his tongue hanging out of his mouth. 

“I can’t believe I’m going to burn to death after all the horrible monster’s I’ve fought… it’s not fair!” Usopp moans and wipes his brow. 

“Just throw me overboard at this point.” You sigh. 

“But don’t you have devil fruit-“

“I DON’T CARE THROW ME OVER!” You screech at Usopp. 

Before you could murder the cowardly sniped in a fit of heat-induced rage, Sanji steps through the door to the deck from the galley. 

“Okay everyone, dinner’s on. Air con works fine in here.” Sanji calls from the doorway. 

You push Usopp and Chopper behind you as you spring to your feet and sprint towards the galley. 

After entering the swinging door, the cool air hits you like stepping through a cascading waterfall. You sigh in relief. Your bliss was furthered when you see bowls of cool gazpacho at each place setting on the dining room table. 

“Thank gods…” You grumble as you hop onto the bench and start eating. The cold soup alleviated your discomfort from the inside out and you couldn’t help but groan in content. 

“Relax, it’s just soup.” Zoro puts his bowl down next to you and gives you a concerned look. 

“Oh I’m sorry swords-for-brains, did you not notice it’s a billion and five degrees outside?” You scowl at the swordsman seated next to you at the table. 

“Who cares?! This soup is great!” Luffy chimes in and extends his rubbery arms to grab every bowl that wasn’t licked clean and shovels them down his gullet. 

You sigh. 

“Nami please tell me this heat wave will be over soon. I’m getting crows feet ON my crows feet from this sun.” You turn towards your friend and navigator. 

“I wish I had better news but it’ll be at least a few more days before there’s any relief in temperature. We’re just going to have to stay in the shade and inside where the air is working. You’re tough, y/n, you can handle it.” Nami states as she sips from her bowl of cold soup. 

You roll your eyes. 

The dishes were promptly slurped clean by your captain and Sanji cleared the table. The blaring rays of the sun had exhausted so you so you decided to take a shower and head to bed. 

After taking a cool shower, you throw on a t shirt and shorts over your panties and sports bra and lay on top of the covers of your bed. 

“Gods it’s almost like it’s hotter in here than it is out there!” You say to yourself as you lay in bed, sweat soaking through your pillow. You decide to hop up and check if the air conditioning was working. You walk over to the vent in the corner of your room and press your hands against it. HOT air was spewing out from the grate in your room. You walk backwards and fall back onto the bed. 

“Fuck.” You throw your shirt over your head and slip your shorts off and flop back onto the bed. Sweat drips from your chin down your neck to your chest. 

*whoooosh*

Hot air was being pushed out harsher and faster through the grate in the corner of your room. The temperature continued to rise and your sweat soaked through your top sheet. 

“I’m not living like this!” You shout in frustration as you push your way out of your room, without bothering to throw your clothes back on. You head down into the belly of the ship in your underwear. Upon reaching the door you were looking for, you slam it open without knocking.

“FRANKY!!!!!” You yell angrily. 

“Jeez, y/n where’s the fire? I could have been naked in here!” Franky pushes his sunglasses back on his head as he turns towards you from his work bench. 

“You’re always naked!!! Also, more importantly, why is the HEAT ON in my bedroom?! Are you trying to cook me like a rotisserie chicken?!” You pant out, still very sweaty. 

“Oh that’s no good… I’ll have to go check the generators.” Franky rises to his feet, towering over you. “Sorry you were so uncomfortable, little lady. I’ll get this sorted out super quickly. Why don’t you get some shut eye in my bed for awhile? It’s still nice and cool down here.” He gestures to his bed in the corner of the room while he grabs his toolbox. 

You sigh. 

“Honestly that would be great, I feel like I’ve been in an oven all day.” You walk over to Franky’s bed and flop down on your back. Being this deep in the ship, there were no windows on the walls, but you were so sweaty and tired you didn’t care. 

“Alright well I’m gonna go fix this for ya, try and get some rest. Your room will be back to super condition in no time!” Franky leaves and you settle into the pillows and close your eyes. The sweat covering your body began to dry and you were finally comfortable again. You find yourself relaxing into Franky’s bed, smelling slightly of cola and motor oil, and drifting off into a light sleep. 

You wake up to the door of the bedroom closing and you snap your head up. 

“Woah, what do we have here?” You hear Franky’s booming voice as you rub the brief sleep from your eyes. It must have still been late at night. 

“Some dream ya must have been having, huh?” Franky stands above the bed and nods towards your spread thighs. You look down at where he was gesturing and notice a huge soaked patch in your pink panties. It was at this moment you notice the wanton ache in your core and abdomen… you must have been having a very wet dream and were awoken before you got to the good part. You instinctively slam your thighs shut in embarrassment and cover your face with your hands. 

“Look at you, so shy but dripping all over my sheets?” Franky continues with a smile, noticing your bashfulness. 

“I-I’m sorry I-“ You stutter and try to explain yourself. 

“It’s okay sweet thing! It’s totally normal. Looks like you’re pretty pent up, huh? I can fix that for ya, if you’re interested.” 

“I.. I mean that would be nice I guess…” You pull your hands away from your face hesitantly. 

“Aaaoooww!! That’s what I wanted to hear! Let’s get started then!” Franky grins and leans down to grab something from underneath his bed. He retrieves a large metal box and pops open the lid. 

“Hmmm let’s see… Some of these… definitely this…” Your robot whispers to himself as he roots around in the large chest. He rises and brings a pile of items out and flops them onto the bed. These were things you’ve never seen before, so your eyes were darting from chain to leather to silicone you had no idea what to focus on. 

“Take that bra off for me baby, I wanna ask ya some things before we get started.” Franky grabs the hem of your panties and gently tugs them down your legs.

You did as you were told and unclasped your bra, tossing it to the side and leaning back again. Franky softly sets your panties down on his bedside table and remarks, 

“I’m keepin’ these.” 

Your body shudders when you hear the sinister tone in his voice.

“Ok doll, now tell me…” Franky traces his hands up and down your thighs, parting them in the process. “How do you like it? I can edge you for an hour or so… or you could cum until you cry… any preference?” Frankly asks casually as he organizes the objects he had turned over onto the bed. 

“I, um…” You were young, not a virgin but not very experienced. This man was almost 10 years older than you, how were you supposed to know what you wanted from him?

“I… I wanna cum… I think…” You eventually squeak out. 

“Ok babydoll, good choice. Can ya promise me you’ll say ‘red’ if you want to stop?” Franky cups your jaw and makes sure you’re looking into his eyes above you. You nod. “No no, tell me you will.”

“I will say it, I’ll say red. I can do it.” You breath out, so ready for him to please you already. You rub your thighs together. 

“And you’ll tell me if there’s anything ya don’t like, hm?”

“Yes of course I promise!” You groan out, impatient to feel Franky’s touch on your skin. 

“Super! I’m going to put you in a spreader bar now, sweet cheeks, so you can’t close your legs on me. It’ll just go around your legs like this…” Franky explains to you methodically as he straps your legs into the homemade device. You tentatively try to close your thighs to see how effective the bar was… and it certainly did its job. 

“OK and these are gonna squeeze your nipples, just like this…” Franky gently attaches the nipple clamps onto your sensitive buds. 

“Oh!!” You cry out as he tightens the screws on them. Franky pulls back and admires his handiwork. You were laid out on his bed, metal clasps squeezing your nipples, causing you to writhe against the spreader bar forcefully separating your legs. 

“Fucking perfect. If you want I can gag you, too…” Franky approaches you with a ball gag in hand. 

“Wait, no. I don’t want that.” You state clearly, even through your lust filled haze. Franky grins down at you. 

“Gods, you’re so fucking hot when you tell me what you want baby. Good idea sweetie, that way everyone can hear how good I’m gonna make you feel.” Franky squeezes your breast, eliciting a whine from your lips. He moves to grab something from the foot of the bed. It a large long, black, wand like device. 

“Spread them for me, I wanna see that cute little pussy.” Franky grabbed one of your knees and pushed it open. 

“I didn’t shave…” You try to cover your face with your arm so you didn’t have to see Franky’s eyes on your most intimate bits. 

“Good! Smells much better like this…” He takes a deep inhale. 

“Fuck,” You sigh out. “You really are a fucking pervert- OH!” The device Franky was pressing against your sex suddenly sprung to life and vibrated against your clit. It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced in your life and your stomach tenses immediately. 

“Wait- fuck, Franky! Wait holy shit, wait- ah!” You scream as your orgasm sneaks up on you and takes you out like an assassin. You legs give out and flop against the bed. Franky removes the toy and cups your sex with his free hand. He feels your hole still gently pulsing against his palm.

“Oh poor baby, ya really are wound tight…” Franky coos down at you from your side. “We’re gonna need a lot more of those before you’re ready for me..” He removes his hand and returns the vibrator to your sex. You cry out as he drags it through your wet folds at the lowest intensity. He eventually keeps it at your clit and increases the vibrations. 

You squirm and moan. 

“Hey,” Franky scolds as he pulls on the chain between your nipple clamps, causing you to moan louder. “Don’t fight it, doll face… just cum, I know you’re there again…” He presses the device harder into your flesh and you crash over the edge again. This time it was even more intense, spasms continuing long after the euphoria ended. 

“Franky… It’s so much…” You whine as he leaves the vibrator pressed against your sex even after you’ve cum for a second time. 

“You can take it. I know you can. You know what to say to get me to stop…” Franky meets your gaze and raises an eyebrow. 

You pull your thighs closed to escape the sensation but the bar prevents you from doing so. 

“Come on baby, one more like this, I know you can…” Franky increases the speed of the vibrator. 

“Shit! I can’t!” You arch your back away from the stimulation. 

“Then say it, sweetheart.” Franky increases the speed again. 

“Fuck! I’m- I’m cumming!” You cry out and violently lurch forward on the bed. You grab Franky’s forearm and sob in pleasure. You hear the buzzing of the machine stop and your spasms start to slow down. 

“Think you can take me now, sweet thing?” You are broken from your post orgasm trance by your cyborg lover slipping off the only piece of clothing he had on, his red swim briefs. 

“Mmmhmmm….” You seductively whisper as you roll onto your stomach and push you ass backwards with your knees, exposing your puffy, red wet hole to him. 

“So ready for me, what a good girl.” Franky coos as he strokes down your back bone. “I’m gonna fuck you now, take a deep breath…” 

“SHIT!” You cry out as Franky’s enormous cockhead breaches your hole. You were wildly wet and open after 3 orgasms, but his sheer size was causing your insides to stretch beyond compare. 

“Its- ah” *sniff* *hiccup* “It’s so big, Frank! Ah!” *sniff* 

“I know sweetheart, it’s a lot at first, but you gotta relax and let me fuck you. You gotta open up more baby..” Franky leans forward and places kisses on your shoulder blades. He feels you lessen your grip around him and he pushes in further. “Gooood girl… stretching so nice for me…” He finally pulls back out and shoves himself into you again. 

“Oh!” You cry out in surprise. You continue to yelp helplessly as your powerful cyborg lover drilled into you from behind. 

“Yes there it is mama, cum on this dick. Feels good, huh?” Franky has the audacity to laugh as he hammers into your G-spot. 

You were involuntarily pushed over the edge and sent screaming into yet another orgasm. You sob and Franky uses his massive strength to flip you over onto your back. He enters you again and you moan out in overstimulation. 

“Come on, one more doll, bet you can squirt on me…” Franky thrusts into you from above, holding your hips into his at the perfect angle to hit your spot. 

“No, I- I can’t” You pant out breathlessly, knowing this is something you aren’t capable of. 

“Yes you can baby, come on just try it for me.” Franky pulls back and places one hand on your stomach and the other on your clit. He begins to rub circles into your sensitive nub and applies deep pressure to your lower abdomen, all while thrusting deeply into you with his cock. You snap for the nth time that evening and tears spill from your lash line as your hips spasm in pleasure. You feel different, like some sort of physical release in your bottom half deeper than the normal climax. You look up after catching your breath and see that your fluids had soaked both the bed and your lover’s abdomen and thighs. 

“Hnnnnhhhh” You whine and weep in overestimation. “It’s too much, Frank, please!” You cry out and claw at your cyborg’s back. 

“Almost there mama, take it for me…” Franky rasps into your ear as he reaches his own climax, huge cock buried deep against your cervix. The loudest moan you’ve ever heard reaches your ears and you toss your head back into the pillows. The both of your whine as Franky carefully removes himself from your body. 

You lay there in a daze and didn’t even notice that your lover had left until he returned with a warm towel to dab at your swollen, messy sex. You twitch involuntarily as he cleans your sensitive bits. He unlocks your legs from their hold in the bar and gently pulls the clamps off your nipples, soothing them with the wet cloth.

“You room should be cooled off by now, glad I could occupy your time until the repairs kicked in.” Franky helps you snap your bra back on behind your back. 

“Thanks for the help, and thanks for the distraction.” You reach up and grip Franky’s jaw to kiss it. You slide off the bed bend down to grab something. You hold the worn red pair of swim briefs up to your face. 

“I’m keepin’ these.” You giggle and bolt out of the room with Franky’s bikini. 

“HEY! Those are my only red ones! This is not very super of you!”

—

Xx 

[dragon-kazansky]

The song in our hearts

Lestat De Lioncourt x Female Reader

A musician with a heart that sings and an admirer who wishes to see his songbird thrive. Two beings in different worlds get caught up in each other when someone threatens to steal his songbird's spotlight. Loving Lestat isn't simple, and your life will never be the same again. What is eternity without chaos?

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Prepare to meet my plot device lol

Chapter Three - Third wheel

You're sitting at your piano in the empty theater mindlessly playing notes. The melody is new, something no one had ever heard before. You had taken the opportunity of no one being here to come to your familiar friend and play the tune in your heart.

You were so lost in the melody that you hadn't heard the door open and close. Nor did you hear the footsteps coming down the aisle of chairs.

The call of your name as your music ending shortly, unfinished. You sigh and look up to see the manager of the theater waiting for your attention.

“Yes?”

“I hadn't heard that one before,” he says, smiling at you.

You sigh again. “Of course not. It's new. That's not why you came in here is it?” You ask.

He laughs. “No. It isn't. I want to introduce you to someone.”

You can feel yourself wanting to groan. He knew how much you hated actually talking to people, but you wanted to keep him happy. He was, after all, your only chance to perform.

You stand from the piano and hop down from the stage. Jack, the manager, rolls his eyes at you. He often tells you off for doing that during rehearsals.

You now take notice of the man behind Jack. He's about your age, sandy brown hair, green eyes. You look from him to Jack.

“This is Noah. He's a singer.” Jack states.

You nod and look between them both wondering why he wanted you to meet this man. Plenty of people come and go from this theater, you don't usually meet them all personally.

“Noah has a request and I think it's a fabulous idea,” Jack goes on. “How would you feel about playing for him while he sings? You could be a duo!”

You stare at Jack. Noah is smiling softly from behind him. He takes a step forward and you turn your attention to him.

“I adore your talent. I have seen you perform several times and every time I hear you play I feel like all my worries melt away. I want you to play while I sing. I think we could go quite far together, perhaps even be good enough to see the world.”

Those were some strong words.

“I play solo,” you say.

“Hey now, give him a chance,” Jack says. “Look, you're our best performer here. Most of our audience come to see you play your piano. I think it's time to switch things up and try something new.”

“I don't want to try something new. I want to do what makes me happy,” you tell him.

He says your name with a smile, but you don't hang about to listen. You flee the theater and seek refuge in your dressing room.

You're alone in your dressing room for a good few minutes before you hear a knock on your door. You expect it to be Amelie perhaps seeing if you're in here, but usually she just comes in. You don't say anything for a while, preferring to stay alone if it isn't her. However, the door opens and someone comes in. You turn and find yourself face to face with Noah.

You frown.

“I'm sorry, but I couldn't leave knowing I'd offended you. Please just hear me out.”

You sigh softly and turn around in your stool. Noah takes a seat on the table behind him. “I know music is your passion. I've seen you perform many times. To be able to sing while you play… that would be a dream.”

“I play solo.”

“I know… you said that. I just… I think we could be good together. Imagine what magic we could create together. How many people would come to see us?” He smiles wide, excited by the thought.

It is clear popularity is important to him.

“I don't care. Music is all I care about.” And making Lestat happy with your music, of course. After that evening with him, he has been on your mind a lot.

“You can still play your music, just allow me to sing over it. Let me voice meld with your melody.” He speaks sweetly. Almost too sweetly.

“No.”

Noah sighs and then nods. “I understand. I'm sorry I disturbed you.”

Noah takes his leave. You sigh and slump down at your dressing table.

That following Friday you're waiting to get onto the stage to play your beloved piano, especially knowing Lestat would be watching. Perhaps he would permit you to go to his house again to play a duet with him. You certainly hoped so.

While waiting for your name to be called Noah comes up beside you. He adjusts his cufflinks mindlessly in the corner of your eye. You do not spare him a glance, keeping your eyes focused on your favorite instrument ahead of you.

“Good luck tonight,” he says.

You didn't need luck. You just needed your music.

“I'm sure you'll amaze the crowd tonight.”

You once again don't respond to him. Noah chuckles. You hear your name being called and you take a deep breath before walking out onto the stage.

Upon reaching the piano you turn to the crowd, but you're not really looking at them. You're only looking for one face. You spot him up in the boxes. You smile softly when your eyes land on him. He must notice your smile because he smiles too. Knowing Lestat was there was a comfort to you.

Lestat appreciated your music. He understood it. He understood you.

You take a seat at the bench and take another deep breath. Your fingers hover the keys. You imagine for just a moment that Lestat is beside you on the bench. You think about that night in his house when you made music together and how happy you felt in that moment.

Lestat knows.

You begin to play, a smile on your face. You're so ready to give a performance to be proud of, to make this a night to remember, not only for yourself, but for your admirer too. You wanted Lestat to enjoy your gift.

However, this would be a night to remember for all the wrong reasons. As you get into it, you're interrupted by a deep voice singing behind you. Not once missing a note you glance behind you to see Noah enter the stage. He walks to the center and sings with all his might. You stare at him with pure confusion. You did not agree to this.

Catching Jack’s eye off to the left side of the stage you can see him shaking his head at you. He doesn't look the least bit sorry. You turn your eyes back to the piano and try and focus on the music. However, that attention grabbing voice is making it difficult for you to enjoy your music.

Noah was owning the stage. People weren't listening to your music any more. They all had their eyes on Noah. Now, a crowd watching you wasn't your desire, but it was the thought that they were paying mkre attention to him than your magic that irritated you.

When you finished the piece you expected him to leave, but he didn't. He accepted the applause and then looked at you, urging you to keep on playing.

You stared at him with a frown.

“Play,” he says quietly.

You grit your teeth and begin playing the next piece. He smiled back at the crowd and then began to sing. For the next half house he sang though every piece of magic you played. He had taken your moment for his own and you hated it.

Up in his box, Lestat glared at the man. He gripped his arm rest so hard it began to splinter. Who was this fool who dared take away from your beautiful melody?

Lestat could read your thoughts. This was not something you wanted. You were upset that this man had taken it upon himself to perform with you without your consent.

That would not do.

The half hour of your performance felt so much longer to Lestat. He was eager to leave his box and go down to your dressing room, however, you were still playing and he didn't want to miss a moment to lay his eyes upon you, no matter how grating that voice was. Could this even be considered singing?

As soon as the show was over Lestat left his box quickly.

You hurried down to your dressing room as soon as you were free from the stage. You began to pace around the space of the room quickly. Amelie was first to enter. She was quickly to start chatting.

“I had no idea he was going to do that. I know you said no to his request, so I knew you had no intention of that happening. I am so sorry I didn't stop him, but it was too late. When I realised what he was doing I couldn't stop him, not without making a scene.”

You don't reply, just continue pacing.

The next one to enter is Noah, followed by Jack. You glare at Jack. “What was that?”

“That was me showing you how good we could be together,” Noah says.

“I wasn't asking you!” You glare at him and turn back to Jack. “I play solo.”

“I know, but surely it wasn't so bad to give it a chance.”

“You humiliated me!”

“You two work so well together,” Jack argues.

“No. No we don't.”

Jack calla your name softly, but it's Noah who speaks up. “Look, sweetheart, do you have any idea how adored we were? We had then on the edge of their seat.”

“They were on the edge of their seat because they were straining to hear the piano!” You bite back.

Noah laughs.

Amelie steps forward and rubs your arms with comfort. You lean into her embrace and let her soothe you.

“We could go global,” Noah comments.

“No. No, I refuse to let you spoil my moment. It's my music.”

“Look, that was the most popular you had been since you started performing here,” Jack tells you. “You need to let Noah worl with you. Surely you don't want to be stuck here all your life.”

“I like it here…”

Silence fills the room as they all look at you. Amelie is still trying to comfort you. Noah and Jack are staring you down. They want you to cave in.

There's a knock at your door and then a familiar voice. “If I may interrupt.”

You feel relief when you see Lestat slink into the room. He instantly makes his way over to you, pushing past Noah to reach you. You smile as he comes over. Lestat stands in front of you and uses his finger to tilt your chin up. He smiles.

“Are you alright?” He asks.

You nod your head slightly.

Lestat smiles and drops his hand. He joins you at your side. Amelie is shocked to see him here but doesn't say anything. You feel Lestat place his hand on your lower back.

“Who are you?” Jack asks.

“Ah, I apologise.” Lestat grins. “Lestat De Lioncourt. The sponsor for this pure talent in the room.”

“I've never met you,” Noah says, looking him up and down with a deep frown.

“I said for the talent,” Lestat retorts. He then turns to you with a smile. “Shall we go, mon chéri?”

You simply nod your head which makes him smile. Just as you're both about to make your exit, Noah steps forward. “I'm sorry, but who are you? Where are you going?”

“I don't think that's your business. Come, dear, let us go.” Lestat guides you out of the room.

As you leave the theater he puts his coat over your shoulders and walks with you down the street. There's silence between you for a little while, but then Lestat breaks it.

“Who was that man?”

“I don't really know. Jack, the manager, introduced him to me earlier in the week. He's called Noah. Claims he's a fan of my music and wants to sing to it. I tried to tell Jack I play solo… but Noah took it upon himself to join the performance tonight.”

Lestat looks displeased.

“Are you alright?” You ask softly.

He turns to you and smiles. “Yes. Do not fret. I shall not let that man take away your sparkle.”

“You told Jack you were my sponsor. I don't have a sponsor.”

He grins again. “You do now.”

You look at him in wonder. “Why?”

He chuckles. “Is it not obvious?” You shake your head. He chuckles again. “I want you to bloom.”

A warmth floods your chest as the thought that this man you have only known a short while cared so much about your passion. The smile on his face almost made you believe he knew just how happy hearing those words had made you.

“Thank you.”

“There is no need to thank me,” he tells you. “This is my gift to you.”

Lestat walked you home and did not leave until he was certain you were safe inside. Even then, he took his time heading back. He was not about to let some pathetic human man ruin your beauty.

@awanderingghost @theprettiesthead @cosmixstar @theblueslytherin @katherine2098 @sawendel @floofdeloop @sitkafay @bigbaddie45 @bluscryn

@secretisme4

[instarsandcrime]

Someone Worth Falling For

Hi hello! Long time lurker in the community, first time poster. I'm not sure how good this is because it's my first snz fic. But practice makes perfect-- even if my writing tends to lean on corny fluff! So I might as well log what I write and hope things get better from here. Enjoy! <3

--

“Htchh'chieww!”

“Bless you.”

“Htch'shhhiew!”

“Ble–”

“Hihh’chiew! Htch'CHIEW! HET’CHHHIEW! Ohhh…”

Lucifer groaned, forcing gurgling blow after blow into his handkerchief. Face glowing gold in embarrassment when he peered up from the fabric to see another pair stare back.

“...Excuse mbe.” He finally rasped out.

“Absolutely not.” Lilith pursed her lips, “Ten times in a row! I've seen less out of fits than sinners allergic to their own feathers and fur. Are you sure you’re alright, my love?”

She'd offered a way out. She'd offered a way out several times. But the response was always so scripted that it bordered on comical. An orderly list that only the Sin of Pride could obsessively memorize by heart.

“Why, there's dothi’g– snff– nothing to tell!” Lucifer beamed between congested sniffles, one armed wrapped tightly around her waist. “I just want to help my wife get ready for her first night off. And a party? My goodness, now why would I pass up such a rare and wonderful opportunity?”

Deflect

“And that’s very sweet of you, darling.” His other half hummed when a string of pearls draped around her neck, “But I’m just as happy to stay home if you’re feeling unwell.”

The demon king’s hand jerked as he weaved a comb from a puff of golden smoke. “Me? Catch a cold? Pfft, what? Like a sinner? Even if I’m fallen, archangels don’t get sick. It’s in our biology.”

2. Pull the archangel card.

“Yes. I’ve been told that holy beings tend to avoid illness– or rather, those who reside in Heaven. Where everything from the sky to the ground is designed to be absolutely perfect. But here, you are victim to the worst torture imaginable. And I believe there’s been a newer Overlord that’s taken a seat at the table– that one you had a meeting with the other day? The one that embodies pestilence.” As her hair was lovingly tended to, Lilith raised her head ever-so-slightly to kiss her doting husband’s jaw. She nearly cooed at the way he melted on the spot.

“As hypocritical as it sounds, I wouldn’t be so quick to ju- …j-juhhdge…” Lucifer froze, quickly rubbing his nose to satiate a tickle. Lilith’s face dropped to something so freely unimpressed because his last tactic was always to

3. Hide his symptoms. Poorly.

“Darling?”

“H-huhhhh…ho-hold on…” Lucifer raised a claw, handkerchief in the other. “I-I’m fine, it must…m-must be…s-suhh-something in…in the air— h-heh! Oh my, ex-excuse– Et’chiew! HET’chiew! HETCHHIEWW!”

“Bless you again.” His wife winced as the comb was unceremoniously dropped to the floor with a sharp clatter. 

“Th-thahhnk– hhhHITSH!” Caught in a hitching jag, Lucifer quickly pinched his nose– and to his dismay, the slight buzz became an angry swarm.

“Beloved.”

“Het’Chht!”

“Let me just–”

“HIH’CHH! H-hihhh! HIH’TCH! ‘TCH! ‘TSHHH! I can’t s-st-stohhHT’CHNX’iew! Hih! Hhhih…hghh…nnh…” Lucifer’s ragged breathing slowed, peeping open a watery eye. Kneeled close, Lilith’s finger pressed under his nose, draped against her own handkerchief.

“See? Was asking for help so hard?” She smiled. Lucifer only swallowed, wordlessly taking the cloth in his palm. Silently he made his way to the side of her vanity, hopping on its desk. Eyes downcast, frown tucked behind cotton and smudged lipstick. “Be honest with me. There’s something more to your stubbornness this time, isn’t there?”

“N-no, of course not! I’m. I’m just– it’s…” Empty words trailed off into a muffled whisper.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

“It’s– well–” Lucifer cleared his aching throat, biting back a cough before he lowered his makeshift mask. “It’s…it’s humiliating, that’s all. I trapped you down here with me. You had the opportunity to live in an eternal paradise. And now you have this one night to go out and party and enjoy yourself and I just– I know it’s not even close to that kind of perfection-- but I’d be ruining another chance at freedom all over again! And all because you think that I might have caught a cold? I’m fine! This is fine! I’ve been through worse! I’m just a little…a-a…a little snehh…” He quickly pressed the well-soaked cloth to his nose, trying in vain to hold some control over his next fit.

“Hit’shew! ‘Chiew! Hep’shiew! H’tsh! Heh’TSHIEWW! HA’SHHHIEW! HA’PSHHHIEWW!” He cradled his forehead with a palm, blinking stars from his eyes. “A…a little sneezy. Ugh, ‘scuse mbe.”

All too suddenly his chin was lifted, and his vision cleared to meet a piercing gaze. “Lucifer. Darling. Love of my life. Do you know where I’d be if I wasn’t down here with you?”

“N…ndo?” He muttered nervously.

“With Adam.” Her voice curdled like spoiled milk, “I would trade a thousand rings of Hell just to never see his face again. Taking care of you tonight wouldn’t be a curse. It would be a blessing. In fact, it would be a new opportunity at freedom for me. Now, I can finally repay the favor you gave to me so long ago.” 

“Snf! I’m sorry, I– I don’t understand.”

Two strong arms lifted the demon king. “Then let me remind you of the day that we fell together.”

It took seconds too late for the fallen angel to realize what was happening, and Lucifer’s lovesick blush blended with his illness. Before he could even open his mouth to protest he was set gently on the bed, and his wife immediately went to work.

“First,” Well-manicured claws slowly unbuttoned his vest, “Since I was unable to move, you helped me get into something more comfortable until I could dress myself again.”

“I-I did, didn’t I?” A tense smile began to unfurl, and Lucifer allowed his other half to prop him against the headboard, slipping off his boots like he were made of gold and porcelain.

“After that, when I was feeling less restricted, you checked me for any injuries or illness.” A cool forehead bumped softly against something damp and burning, not bothering to worry about smudging freshly applied foundation. “And while I didn’t have a fever, you certainly do now.”

“I–” Lucifer paused, feeling delicate hands intertwine with his own. Slowly he retracted his forked tongue, tasting the bitter words in his mouth. “--I, um. I have to admit, I feel just a smidge under the weather.”

“Well would you look at that! No longer a saint, but you still cast miracles.”

“I do my best.” The fallen angel croaked out a weak chuckle, tired eyes lighting up when Lilith stopped to kiss his knuckles, lips briefly brushing over a golden wedding ring.

“Oh, what was next? Let’s see.” She got up, pacing around the room, “You bandaged my open wounds and wouldn’t let me begin my work as queen until I was off my feet.”

“I still have some mighty big scars from all the kicks you bucked me with.” Lucifer huffed.

His better half looked unashamedly proud, crossing her arms until they locked tight around her chest. “And as I said before, I will do what you have done to me. I’m sure it’ll do you well to give your more inventive powers a rest–” the fallen creator groaned miserably, “--while a servant fetches us some medicine and tea to wash it down with. As well as–”

“Hhhih!” Lucifer’s nose twitched, and he couldn’t help the frustrated sigh that mingled with unsteady breaths. Both handkerchiefs soiled, the demon flicked his wrist and summoned a third, “Oh for the love of– this i-ihhh…is getting rihh-ridiculuh…huhhh..hhh’tsh! Hut’Sshhhieww! Ha’TSHIEW! HET’CH’HHHIEW!”

“--a few tissue boxes. Bless you.”

“...I’b sorry for all the trouble. Snff!” A hacking cough broke through the apology.

“Trouble? Lucifer dear, it’s no trouble at all.” She consoled, sitting by his bedside. “You said it yourself. It’s just a cold. And you seem to forget that, when your caretaking was near its end, you refused to leave me until I truly needed space. You said that if I would permit you to stay, all I needed to do is ask. Well? Would you like me to stay?”

Painted nails fidgeted with the hem of a long cocktail dress and, despite everything that’s happened, Lilith offered a silent prayer to whatever higher power would listen.

Lucifer took a deep breath, “Th-then– um. If you wouldn’t mind lending a hand?”

“I’d be delighted to.” His other half hummed, kissing the red dimples on his cheeks, “You really do have no idea how much you were worth falling for.”

[b-o-e]

alone with you, take two

Wally Darling x Reader

Warnings: jealous wally, frustrating neighbours, mwah mwah kissy smooches!!

although it is not necessary, I highly suggest reading my fics in their recommended order for the best experience! here is the link to all my silly lil wally fics in order. this is #11 :)

Jealousy isn’t a frequent feeling for Wally, but sometimes, things get on his nerves.

“Hun, would you mind helping me with these treats please?”

Your attention was drawn away from Wally, once again. 

It was a Friday night, and the neighbourhood was gathered for their weekly get together, of course. Lots of eating, game playing, and mingling going on.

You left Wally’s side, assuring him you would be right back, off to assist Poppy with whatever it was she needed.

Wally blew out an irritated huff.

And this get together seemed to mean he barely got to steal any of you for himself.

Everyone was taking you left and right. ‘Hey, come play a game with us!’ ‘Would you help me set these up?’ ‘Come take a look at this!’ No matter what, it was one thing or another, back to back to back.

Now, despite having quite a way with words, Wally still didn’t know how to use them, at times.

Occasionally, he didn’t know how to ask for things, particularly when it comes to a new challenge he's unsure of how to approach. He just… didn’t. So, what would he do instead?

He would stare.

And he would stare.

And he would stare.

He would stare, until the other person picked up on his silent plea for assistance. Or, until it will have been long enough where he figures it out himself.

This was the predicament you were in now. Although, unfortunately for Wally, you were still yet to notice you were in any sort of predicament at all.

He wasn’t sure how long it had been. He almost couldn’t complain, because it provided an extra good excuse to look at you. At the same time, he was getting frustrated, because how haven’t you realized yet? 

Well, actually, maybe you had. But, whenever it seemed like you were going to inquire, someone stole your attention away, which would irk Wally just a little bit more.

It’s happened multiple times now. By just about everyone. Twice, by most! Were they doing it on purpose, at this point? Wally was beginning to question.

For now, Wally watched and waited. And watched and waited. And watched and waited. Until finally, you were finished helping Poppy and on your way back over to him. So, he seized his opportunity.

“Would you—” he began, only to be cut off.

“Hey pipsqueak! Come play a quick round with Eddie n I!” 

If looks could kill, Barnaby would’ve been dead where he stood.

“Deal me in, too!” Howdy raised a hand, making his way over to the table, stretching his other arms and cracking his knuckles with confidence.

“Do you get one or two hands, with two sets of arms?”

“Actually,” you glanced at Wally, looking over at the group again. “Give him two! He can play for me, I’ll hop in later,” 

“Which hand do you wanna be, kiddo?”

“Uh… top? Cause I’m on top, y’know?”

Howdy sniggered.

“Okay, I’ll give you the bottom hand.”

“Jeez. Ask me for my fancy, just to ignore it,” you clicked your tongue in amusement, looking at Wally. He gazed back at you, eyes hopeful. Was he finally getting your attention? All to himself? “What did you want to say, sorry?”

Wally sighed with relief. Finally!

“Would you li–”

“Starlight! Won’t you come join Julie and I’s game?” Sally called out to you.

Nope.

Wally had it.

As you opened your mouth to reply, Wally took you by the hand, answering for you.

“Later.”

His tone was sharp and curt as he stormed toward the door, leading you behind him.

No more distractions.

Wally pulled you along, pausing briefly at the exit and looking at you, ensuring you were fine with this. Your eyes met his, and although surprised and confused, you understood the silent question and gave him a nod to go on.

The two of you stepped outside, walking briskly into the cool night. A sigh of relief left Wally, glad to finally be away from his beloved although slightly infuriating neighbours. When he decided the two of you had wandered far enough, he slowed his pace, sucking in a breath of the refreshing air. He looked at you to apologize for being so brash, only to pause.

You were staring at him, a grin growing on your face.

“Is this what I think it is?” you questioned him. His brows furrowed in puzzlement.

“Were you getting jealous in there, Wally?”

He gaped at the accusation. Jealous? Him? He opened his mouth to shut it down, only to hesitate.

Was he jealous?

His cheeks heated as realization hit him. He gaped like a fish, trying to think of a reasonable defense for himself, to no avail.

“... they were doing it on purpose,” he could only claim, deflating. 

“They were being quite rude, weren’t they?” you empathized with a giggle. “I’m sorry,”

“It’s not your fault,” he shook his head, sure of that much. “But they kept pulling you away, this way and that way. I think that I was deserving of a turn,”

“Well, no matter, now we are alone,” you smiled. “No more interruptions. What would you like, Wally?” you asked him.

He blanked.

Right.

The reason he wanted your attention in the first place.

Wally’s head dipped down shyly, his fingers gently toying with your own.

How does he say it?

He returned his gaze back to your eyes. You were waiting patiently for him to speak. No rush at all. You never did.

“I wanted to step outside with you,” he said, speaking slow as he took the time to figure out his words.

“I wanted to spend some time away, just you and I,” he continued. “Everyone was demanding your attention, but I wanted some for myself. That sounds quite selfish now that I say it out loud, doesn’t it?” He mumbled.

“I don’t think you’re being selfish at all,” you begged to differ. “I think that you have a right to desire some extra attention from me. We are together, after all. And, that being said, you are my top priority,” 

“As you are mine,” Wally nodded, giving your hand a squeeze.

“So, you just wanted to spend some time together?” You hummed softly, smiling at him. “I always quite like that idea,”

“Well, not quite…” he trailed along sheepishly, looking down at your interlocked hands.

“What would that be, Darling?”

“I wanted to kiss you,” he admitted.

“To kiss me?”

He nodded.

“Well, why don’t you, then?”

He peeked up at you.

“... might I?”

“Of course,” you giggled. 

“… now I’m nervous,” he uttered bashfully, gazing downward as he shyly rubbed the back of his neck. You grinned in amusement, leaning closer to him.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” You whispered, placing your finger under his chin to redirect his attention to you. His eyes widened slightly in surprise, gazing into yours as he licked his dry lips.

“Please?” He murmured out. 

With a smile, you tilted his chin up a bit more, closing the gap between you and pressing your lips to his in a sweet, short kiss. He went a little rigid before he relaxed into it, though he didn’t have quite enough time to reciprocate before you moved to break the kiss. 

As you began to pull away, his hand found the side of your neck, not ready for you to leave just yet. He led you back in before you went too far, his lips met yours once again, bringing you in for another kiss, slow and loving.

Moments later, Wally pulled away, more content this time. He gazed at you, any hint of his prior frustration nowhere to be seen anymore, nothing but a look of fondness left remaining in his eyes. He studied you, from your flushed cheeks to your small smile, meeting your equally love filled eyes.

“Are you satisfied now?” You asked with a light teasing tone, rubbing at your warm cheek as if it would make your embarrassed blush fade away. Wally clicked his tongue, glancing towards the noisy home down the way.

“Mmm, I’m not sure…” he hummed with a playful tone, looking back at you with a glint in his eyes.  “I think that I deserve you for some time more. How does another kiss sound to you? Then, maybe I’ll be satisfied,”

hi! hello! did i scare you? i'm back from the dead to offer you this! i hope that you enjoyed! burnout is real, bahaha! if you are new, i have some other fics along these lines you can read as well!

here is a link to my silly lil wally fics in their recommended order if you would like :) these can also be found on my ao3 B) I also have a ko-fi if you'd like to support me!

also!!! ART!!! people made art based on my fics!!! MIND BLOWING!!! check them out, super duper cool!

@leon-dechino created this one and this one! SO cool, mind boggling, makes me so happy gavhxsah

@sunkyss created this one! AHHH! so wild man, i still can't believe it bahaha! i highly suggest you check both of them out! they have so many cool works on top of these!

alas! 'tis all for now! i hope to see you soon! MWAH! until next time <3

Posted Wednesday, June 7, 2023 at 2:07 PM