#This has never ever happened to me before not even in my old car

[leclerity]

you kiss him first

Charles Leclerc x Former Childhood Friend!Reader count: 1.1k words summary: Charles and you talk about the reasons why you haven't seen each other in ten years... and there may have been some miscommunications all this time. a/n: another angsty one, with another happy ending, as always - thank you for all the support on the fics so far!

The Monaco air is crisp as you step out of the door, leaving the laughter of your parents and family friends behind. You note you forgot how warm Monaco can be, even in the evenings, and Charles Leclerc laughs, reminding you that you’ve been away for too long.

Certainly long enough for childhood friends to become distant acquaintances, at best.

“It’s weird to think we used to play around these streets,” you say. “We were so stupid. It was dangerous!”

“Well, we were kids.” Charles shrugs. “We thought we knew best.”

He leads you away from his parents’—now mother’s—house and after a moment, you recognise the route as your old path up the hills, to the best vantage points the city could offer. You climb with the expertise of someone whose feet have wandered up the trails a million times before, even if it’s been a decade since the last time.

“I always thought we might get hit by a car someday, but I didn’t care,” you say. “And look at you now, driving cars for a living.”

“Means I get hit by more often than an average person. So, you were right.”

“Right. Just like always.”

“Yeah. You were always right, you know.”

Something about the way he says it, looking at the hill beneath his feet instead of you, sends shivers down your spine.

The further outside the city you go, the quieter it gets. Dozens of memories fly past your eyes, all of the same hike, with the same person by your side, only a child, a teenager.

“What was I right about?”

Charles doesn’t look at you, nor does he answer. You keep hiking in silence and you find yourself getting antsy, fidgeting with a loose string hanging off your t-shirt.

When you get to the top, it’s peaceful. It always has been. You see the whole city from here, all of the lights shining brighter as the sun sets in the distance, and you can’t help but wonder – what went wrong?

So you ask.

He laughs, but it’s nervous. When you look at him, his white shirt sleeves are rolled up to the elbows and the khaki shorts look too expensive against the dirty ground. He’s still got the same pretty face, the dimples in his smile, but he’s a far cry from the boy you grew up with.

“I don’t see the point in talking about it now,” he says.

“If not now, when? It’s been ten years already.”

“Never,” he says. “If I can choose.”

You turn to face him, the sights of Monaco be damned. “Why? We were good, Charles. I was supporting you with your karting, you were supporting me with all the hobbies I ever did…”

“We were good,” he agrees, but it’s almost sad. As if there’s no way back. As if whatever happened, it’s irreversible.

“No, you don’t get to just up and decide you’re never going to speak to your best friend again. You just… You don’t get to do that!”

“You’re right,” he says, nodding. “You’re right.”

“So what’s the issue?! I mean, I thought you were going to be by my side at the altar someday!”

Charles shakes his head, chuckling again, but you can see the watery reflection in his eyes. He doesn’t look at you, and for a moment you wonder what was it that you said that was enough to make him cry, and…

“That was the issue,” Charles says, softly. “I’d be by your side.”

You feel yourself frown. “Isn’t that the whole point?”

“No. It’s not.” He looks at you and you finally see the tears, the redness of his cheeks, and the emotion he’d been restraining for who knows how long. “I didn’t want to be by your side.”

“Oh.”

“Y/N—”

“No. It’s okay. I get it.”

You move a little further from him, pretending your heart hadn’t just been stabbed, but he scoots right back next to you.

“Y/N, let me finish.” When you don’t say anything, he adds, “I wanted to stand opposite of you. That was the issue.”

“Opposite of—oh.”

The past rewrites itself in your head, all those little moments that ever confused you suddenly being crystal clear. You see all the hints you missed or saw and ignored – the refusals to talk about your crushes, the distancing that began when you got into your first relationship, even though it lasted not even two weeks…

And the absence of contact when your family moved away.

“Charles,” you say. “What are you—I don’t understand—”

“You didn’t see me the way I saw you,” he says, “and I couldn’t take it anymore.”

And—in a moment of unprecedented courage—you look him straight in the eyes. “Who says I didn’t?”

A look flashes over your face that tells you he’s experiencing a rewriting of the same kind you experienced moments ago. The moments when you held his hand for a little too long as a kid, when you cheered him on the track even when you were supposed to be on a date, when you listened to him vent about his brothers. You know these moments – and you hope that now, he can see them for what they were, too.

You put a hand on his cheek. He leans into it immediately, as if coming home.

“You know,” you whisper, “I don’t think there’s a moment of my life I didn’t love you. Even the past ten years… All I could do was miss you.”

“Me, too,” he says. “I hated myself for staying away, but I had to. I thought I had to.”

“If you just asked…”

He laughs, again, and it’s nervous all the same – but his hand is on your knee and he’s leaning in, and the air between you is charged. “Asked what? ‘Hey, Y/N, how’s your day? Also, do you happen to be in love with me, too?’ Is that what I should’ve asked?”

“Yes. And I would’ve said yes.”

He sighs; his eyes drop to your lips. “You’re telling me I wasted ten years because I was afraid?”

“Both of us were.”

“So, now…”

You become acutely aware of the distance between the two of you – all it would take is to lean in, ever so slightly, and the friendship barrier would be crossed. As if it hadn’t been crossed all those years ago, before you even knew what love or friendship were.

You smile. “Now you kiss me.”

“Tempting,” he says. “There’s one problem, though.”

“There is?”

Charles’s smile mirrors yours, wide and delighted. “I’m afraid if I kiss you, I won’t be able to stop.”

“Then don’t,” you say, and you kiss him first.

[shima-draws]

My car: Happy Friday time for an oil change ALSO you have two flat tires mwah 😘

[shadesoflsk]

THE OLD WAY

pairing: Leon Kennedy x fem reader

summary: Living at a farm and being married surely has it perks. However, Leon can't help but think something is missing.

warnings: smut, MDNI, oral (fem receiving) p in v, mating press (??), creampie, breeding kink, outdoor sex, age gap (unspecified), established relationship, fluff, Leon is so husband in this, mentions of pregnancy, domestic bliss.

word count: 4k

author's note: Hello! I had this fic in my drafts for sooo long. I was kind of ashamed to post this since it's not my usual type of content but !!! fuck it !! Ovulation goes brrr. I hope you all like it!I had an older Leon in mind but I used a re6 leon pic for funsies. (And please... don't judge the lack of creativity in my title... I didn't know what to write.)

MY MASTERLIST

City life was no longer fitting for a man like him. Job was not the same and he was afraid he might not get up from one of his falls one day. Joints no longer worked like they used to, a painful reminder of how his age was getting to him.

That's why he chose to retire, rather early for the average citizen. But he believes his position as a federal agent has aged him to the point where he could easily describe himself as an 80 years old man who needed help crouching down.

With that in mind, he wasted no time buying a home away from civilization. Money was no problem and owning a ranch now sounded like the best idea he could come up with. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. Time seemed to flow faster as he settled down in a peaceful lifestyle.

Solitude was very much welcomed. The sounds of blood dripping and ragged screams were replaced by the soft pitty patter of the rain and the usual rooster’s crow each morning, announcing a new day. 

But, as much as he has grown to love and appreciate his simplistic routine, the monotonous daily work and the lack of companionship were hitting him hard. When night came and his thoughts clouded his rational side, he yearned for a change in his life. He was never the romantic type, never been. His previous job as an agent cut off any possibilities of having a partner and settling down like any normal person would. But years made him a sappy man, it seemed.

Life works in mysterious ways, though. He wouldn’t have thought that farm life would bring him a sweet thing like you. It all started with your car breaking down a few meters away from his farm. You wanted to thank him for his help, there was no way you would simply express your gratitude through words, not after his assistance. 

So, your first visit consisted of a home-baked pie which he reluctantly accepted. Not because he didn’t want to but it had been a while since he was last gifted something. That first meeting soon turned into a couple until you were basically there every day. 

“Stay with me,” shifted into a “Be my girlfriend” and therefore the “Marry me?” finally came. 

You were the best thing that has ever happened in his life, a peaceful life away from any danger the city may bring and a beautiful wife by his side? God granted him the most perfect miracle ever. 

He followed the milestones of your relationship to a T. Even though the lack of knowledge was sometimes obvious, he knew the basics of how to keep a girl—his girl— happy. It was in his nature to provide, and living with you meant no exception. 

He always strived to do better, to be better. Your needs were always met and he took pride in knowing he was your husband. No one else but him. 

However, he felt selfish when none of that actually fulfilled him. He was happy with you, don’t get him wrong. Nothing was like before when he thought he would die alone with no one who cared about him. But something in the back of his mind kept bothering him.

And ever since he realized something was missing, he couldn't help but try to find out what it was. 

For days and weeks, he tried picturing the change both of you needed. More pets? You had enough with the dog you both have. Vacations? He had already taken you to the beach. More space in your home? The house at the farm was alright… Maybe a little too big for just the two of you.

Oh.

Oh…

The problem was the two of you. Or rather, being just the two of you on this big ranch. 

He had come to realize that he could, in fact, dream bigger. A few years ago, he would have thought that being married was a faraway dream, unachievable and stupid. But now he’s a husband and maybe if he tries hard enough, he can get to be a family man.

However, nobody has taught him how to face these types of situations. Even when he asked you to be his wife, he needed months of preparation. How was he going to explain this desire to put a baby in you? 

On one peaceful night, he was spooning you as always. It was his favorite activity after taking care of his chores at the farm (and even doing some of yours just so you could relax more). But even when there was nothing but a comforting silence, his thoughts wouldn’t stop flooding his mind. 

He let one of his hands rest on your abdomen, caressing the skin there with circular motions. He tried closing his eyes to prevent more of those thoughts from coming to his mind yet it was useless. His imagination was running wild when he pictured you carrying a life in your belly, swollen and round, the perfect scenario.

He imagined taking care of you. Of course, his pretty wife won’t do anything if she’s next to him. There was no way he wouldn’t take that opportunity to show her how much of a man, a good man he was. 

Pressing a kiss to your cheek as he rested behind you, he spoke before even thinking what he was supposed to say.

“You would be a good mom, you know?” It slipped out of his mouth, he should’ve used a more discreet way of speaking his mind. Now it was too late to draw back.

“What?” You chuckled as you turned your head to look at Leon. “I’d look great as a mom?” 

“Yeah.” He whispered, finally admitting his desire to have a family. “What do you think?”

He wouldn’t push the matter if you don’t feel the same. As much as he loved the idea of having mini versions of both of you, there was no way he would force you to do it. 

“Mhm… I think you’d also be a great dad.” Your voice was as soft as his, indulging in this little moment of intimacy and raw honesty. 

The word dad rings in his mind. His life before having his ranch was violence-filled, then years of solitude surrounded by nothing but nature cornered him to think that being alone was his destiny. Now, you brought him a newfound desire to come back home and finding you and your child. A family.

“You think so?” 

“Absolutely.”

Leon had a silly smile formed on his face. His dreams were actually achievable and domesticity and tranquility were now his everyday life.

“We can try if you want.” You added, feeling how Leon continued drawing shapes on your stomach. “How many would you like?”

Leon didn’t think he would get this far. 

“Want me to be honest?” Leon’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. “I wouldn’t mind having an entire football team with you.” He joked, hearing how you gasped in response.

“Leon!” You slapped his hand out of your abdomen. “I’m the one having them!” 

Both of you laughed as the night embraced both of you like a blanket. Confessions have never been so much welcomed as tonight’s. 

“I love you.” He murmured as his eyes closed. It was a reassurance that whatever life had in store for both of you, he would gladly accept it.

“I love you more.” You replied with the same fondness as always. Drifting off to sleep was easier than ever.

-

Days passed and the conversation wasn’t forgotten. Nonetheless, you let the flow of time and life decide for both of you.

Daily chores needed to be completed no matter what. So, he’s now washing his hands after feeding the horses. You’re holding the garden hose which makes a wet mess given the force of the water. 

“Didn’t know it was raining.” Leon jokes as the water soaks his shirt and pants. 

“Shit, sorry.” You turn off the garden hose as you giggle watching how drenched Leon looks. 

And while you are genuinely sorry since Leon still has things to do on the farm, you can’t help but appreciate the image your husband is offering. White shirt now see-through, giving you the perfect view of his soft abdomen clinging to the fabric.

When you first met Leon, he had told you what an amazing body he had. With so much pride, he once showed you pictures of his past self. Images of a toned torso and strong arms would look appealing to your eyes. But each time Leon and you are intimate, you get to feel his slightly rounder belly pressed against you, his strong arms clinging to you. In those moments you can’t help but thank God for the gorgeous man you have. 

“Enjoying the view?” Leon breaks the silence when he feels your eyes not leaving his body. 

“Maybe…” You quietly whisper as you drop the hose and walk closer to him. “Can’t help it, my husband is so handsome.” You add, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Inevitably, you inhaled the scent you have grown to love. 

For a moment, you stay there, just drowning in the affection letting your hands rest on his sides unaware of how Leon could feel the slight friction of your breasts against his soaked shirt. The thin fabric of your dress does a poor job of preventing Leon’s hands from wandering around your body. 

A pool of arousal starts setting in Leon as he reaches your ass and gives it a firm squeeze.

With one swift and smooth move, he lifts you off the ground. Your feet are no longer touching the floor as Leon walks away from the barn. And, as if on command, you wrap your legs around his torso, allowing him to walk easier to whatever destination he had in mind.

For once, Leon hates the fact that he owns a big ass farm. His place is a bit far away from the barn, so his decisions are fogged by the desire and neediness he is feeling at the moment. Years in solitude led him to think he was imponent but with the way his jeans seem to get tighter each time your lower half brushes against his, he knows it's not true.

He is a gentleman, don’t get him wrong. He’d have picked you up and carried you to his bedroom as usual, laid you on the bed, taken off your clothes, and fucked you gently (or rough) like he usually did. However, a newfound wish piqued his interest, and even though you're in a secluded area, he wishes everyone would know what pretty girl he got.

Without further thinking and no complaints made, he places you down on the grass. The sensation of the blades tickling your skin is, in a way, bothersome, but your brain is easily turned into mush every time Leon dares to touch you.

Leon, however, wouldn’t allow you to feel any discomfort. His sun-kissed skin would be exposed in swift motion as he takes off his wet shirt. Those antagonizing seconds of admiring him unbuttoning the fabric push you to press your thighs together, seeking any type of release or mere pleasure.

“Up,” And after those endless seconds of him taking off his shirt, his hand taps your hip, motioning you to lift the lower half of your body for him to lay his shirt there. Giving no second thoughts, you raise your rear, pathetically quick, and Leon notices. “So needy, have I been slacking off?”

And his tone gives him away. He is looking forward to letting nature be the witness of your lustful acts. The sun being your light and the grass your makeshift bed. His body embraces the position on top of you.

“Of course I have.” He cooes, bringing his face lower and lower before pressing his cheek against your inner thigh. His stubble resembles sandpaper with how it scratches your skin, but at this point, it brings more pleasure than annoyance. “Look at her, already crying for me.”

His breath tickles the middle area between your legs. The wet spot in your panties is obvious to Leon who wastes no time to bring up that fact. And you want to thank yourself for choosing a dress today because there is no way you could do anything besides laying on the grass and letting Leon treat you so nicely and tenderly.

“How could I?” He hums against the soaked patch of the fabric. “Been neglecting my pretty girl.” He presses a kiss on your clothed area, dragging down the anticipated pleasure you’re looking for. 

“Mhm… please.” Your babbles gain a chuckle out of Leon’s lips. He is enjoying the whole setting, he wouldn’t have known he had a thing for outdoor sex but then again, he loves discovering new things with you. 

Antagonistically, he lifts your dress until it reaches your abdomen and exposes your lower half.

And finally, his fingers hook around the sides of your panties, yanking down the fabric, allowing himself to admire the way he has made a mess of you already. 

As always, he was ready for his favorite meal in the whole world.

Lying on his stomach, he props up on his elbows, his mouth dives into your pussy as his tongue laps at your clit. A moan escapes your lips as the sensation of being eaten out by Leon floods your mind and soul. 

He feasts like a starved man, like he is eating his favorite dessert. He delves into your aching hole, his tongue tasting the sweet and well-known flavor of your juices. He brings your legs over his shoulders, propping you to raise your lower half and reach even deeper. 

“Shit,” Your fingers tangle in his dirty blond hair, shoving his face into your cunt. His lips suck your clit, paying close attention to that part, drawing moans and whines out of you. 

A plethora of names are being said as Leon continues being trapped between your thighs. He flicks his tongue while he feels how some of your slick drips to his stubble. And with the way your legs squeeze him even tighter, he can already guess you’re feeling so much pleasure from his tongue alone.

You arch your back, trying to bring him even closer to your core. The wet noises of his saliva and your slick mix with the outdoor ones. The soft rustling of the trees’ leaves and the birds chirping are a reminder of the scenario you both are in.

Whimpers leave your lips as Leon's tongue makes out with your cunt. Your fingers grip the shirt Leon placed as a makeshift blanket. Heat starts pooling in your belly as the antagonizing seconds of Leon eating you out bring you to the edge.

At last, your body jerks and comes undone in Leon’s grasp. He holds you in place, flattening his tongue to collect every drop of your slick. He could easily cum too just by the fact he was tasting your release. 

“My sweet girl, always so perfect for me.” He finally disconnects from your pussy to crawl back to where your face is. He places some kisses on your neck which is glistening with a layer of sweat given how much pleasure you were previously feeling. 

At last, his lips reach yours and he passionately kisses you. You could easily taste yourself in the kiss yet you don’t care at this very moment. 

For a moment, he indulges in the tenderness of the kiss after bringing you to heaven with just his tongue alone. However, the easily noticeable restraint in his jeans was getting harder to control. 

You feel him grind against you, seeking any type of friction to ease the aching feeling of his erection. 

“Leon… I can’t….” Leon’s intentions are obvious as you feel his clothed dick humping your leg like a needy man yet, you are still tender from your ecstasy. 

“You can…” He brings his face against the crook of your neck once again, placing wet kisses around your skin. “Just one more baby.”

He pleads, he begs, he needs to feel you wrapped around him. Those thoughts about leaving his mark, leaving his seed in you are still pretty much present. So at last, you nod. That’s when you can feel a smile forming on his lips which continue being pressed against your neck. 

“Thank you, thank you.” Acting like he hasn’t touched for ages, you hear the rustle of fabric and his belt buckle falling to the ground. You see how his dick springs out of his boxers when he pulls them down, already leaking precum just from eating you out.

In less than a second, you feel him collecting your previous release, sliding his cock through your folds with such ease that it had you gripping air. 

“Fuck…” He murmurs as he pushes himself painfully slowly, taking his time to feel how your walls tighten around his length. Pinned underneath him, you feel overwhelmed by the sensation of having his body so close to you. 

“My pretty wife…” He whispers as he is finally all the way in. “Look at you, so pretty full of me.” He adds while one of his hands caresses your hair.

He starts gently rocking against your body, the pace is slow and comforting as if trying to remember the way your velvety walls clamp his dick, the stretch being something you’re accustomed to.

“I love you so much, you know that?” He says as he thrusts inside of you, this time a little more urgently. The hand that was previously running through your hair wraps around your waist and lifts it slightly. 

“Mhm…yes.” You nod as your eyes lock with his, witnessing a newfound desire you haven’t seen before. Maybe it was the fact that both of you are outdoors, you don’t know. 

The sounds of his skin slapping against yours mix with your heavy breaths. The perfect music for the perfect scenario. As soon as Leon hits that sweet spot of yours, you whimper his name like a mantra. 

And then again, the thought of a family floods his mind. The mental image of your belly stretching out, making space for the baby is everything he longs for. And not only that, but he craves to take care of you, his pretty wife. You wouldn’t need to lift a finger for the nine months of pregnancy. 

“Wanna fill you up.” He finally confesses in a moan. He isn’t a stranger to dirty talk, you know it well. The way his words come out like a promise and an already-made decision is proof of his not so hidden wish. “This farm is lonely with just the two of us…”

And as he presses his forehead against yours, you see in his eyes the devotion he has for you. The same man that promised you the world is now promising a life, a new life who is going to be the perfect combination of both you and him.

“What’chu mean?” You feign ignorance just for the sake of hearing those words coming out of his mouth again. And as you try to say some more teasing words, you can feel the way his thrusts get rougher as if trying to make a statement. The statement being that he wouldn’t stop until you get pregnant.

“You know what I mean…” He is huffing by now, letting out a grunt as he utters those words. “Wanna get you nice and full.”

Ultimately, your dreams are the same as his. So you allow him to transform this dream of his into his—your—reality now.

“Yeah?” You say through your teeth, trying not to whimper from the fact that his cock is reaching so deep into you. 

“Yeah.” He groans, his sticky forehead never leaving yours as he looks into your eyes and your dazed-out expression. “You’re gonna look so goddamn beautiful as a momma.” 

Out of desperation to fuck you even deeper, he brings your legs to his shoulders, just like he previously did when he was eating you out. But this time, it is an attempt to let his dick mark your womb. 

It is his mission to one day see a positive test. It’s his mission to show his devotion to his princess and the now-future mother of his children. He’d never stop looking at the telltale of his seed making its home in your body. 

He wouldn’t let you do anything besides resting and growing your little miracle. He’d cook, he’d clean, he’d feed you if you ask him to. 

“Keep squeezing me like that, I’m gonna—fuck—cum…” He effortlessly bends your knees even more, bringing them closer to your chest.  “Gonna fill you up until I’m so damn empty.” 

He takes advantage of the vulnerable position you’re in to bring a hand to your clit. Rubbing it, he waits for the imminent climax of both of you.

“Cum for me, princess.” He presses his body on top of you, the position allowing him to let out an almost growl against your ear. The sense of purpose that Leon is showing prompts you to finally reach your climax. With a broken voice and your fingernails leaving crescent moons on his back, you coat his dick with your release. A gooey ring forms at the base of his cock every time he pulls in and out of you. 

His actions don’t stop there, though. He was so close to spilling right inside you and making his dreams come true. He brings the hand that was previously teasing your clit to your face, brushing away some of your hair that has stuck to your forehead, he looks right into your eyes.

“Fucking love you so much.” He grunts, his deep sea eyes never leaving yours, as if trying to engrave this moment in his mind. To forever remember the time when he finally achieved his dream. “You’ll be the prettiest momma ever.”

Although his thrusts are too much for you to handle and the overstimulation turns into a slight discomfort, the way his hand is gently caressing your cheek—a juxtaposition of his determined attempt of marking you— makes you melt on the spot.

And especially since the cold feeling of his wedding ring reminds you of the amazing man you married.

“I'm cumming.” He warns you as his thrusts get sloppy and without rhythm. He's seeing stars at this moment, every time he plunges his dick into you he reaches the sky. And at last, with the way his breath gets laboured and heavy, it announces his high coming.

The head of his dick spurts rope after rope of cum into you, the angle you are in makes it easier for it not to drip out of you. He wouldn’t allow a drop of his seed to go to waste. 

You feel the warm and thick liquid filling your insides, proof of Leon’s actions and therefore fulfilled wish. For a moment, you stay there letting his weight crush you and your bent legs. 

After a while, he slowly slips out of you, carefully placing your legs on the ground. You feel the grass blades tickling your calves where Leon’s shirt doesn’t reach. 

Leon rests his arm next to your head, admiring the dazed-out expression you have after letting him fill you.

“Hey…” He murmurs before letting out a soft chuckle. 

“Hi you.” You respond with a smile amidst the exhaustion that is running through your veins. “We really just did that.”

“Yeah…” In his eyes, you can observe how much love he has for you and how eager he is to know if this one dream will be a reality.

With his free hand, he grabs yours and places soft pecks on your knuckles. 

“Are you okay?” He once again speaks, now making sure you are alright. 

“More than okay.” 

He gives your knuckles one last kiss before he lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head while doing so.

“A penny for your thoughts?” You ask.

“Nothing…” He shakes his head once again. “It's just that… I may have some dad jokes already prepared.”

“Shut up, Leon.”

You couldn’t wait to know if your dreams were achieved by this act. You couldn’t wait to see if your life could get even better than this. And especially, you couldn’t wait to experience being a family.

💬 shadesoflsk: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

[mcondance]

come close; hobie brown

getting high and talking about anarchy with some old 90's shit playing is a crazy way to fall for someone. but it happens.

pairing hobie brown x Black!afab!fem! reader

contents lots of weed, different terms for weed (mary jane, cess), talks of killing politicians (y’all r both anarchists so.), masturbation (both you and hobie), making out, fingering, riding, missionary, mating press, creampie, unprotected sex (they're horny man dwbi), dirty talk, cervix kissing, lotsssss of praise, porn with plot (sorry i love plot 🙏🏾)

words 4.7k.. back on my longer fic shit!

warnings reader wears lipgloss, barely proofread so if you see any mistakes pls shoot me an ask!, umm i use the n word once!, i’m also,, not that great at writing his voice yet so.. hope it’s at least sorta accurate :3

extras the form i wrote this in is kinda,, unique igs but it flows rlly well i feel.

song shoutouts special thanks to lipstick lover by janelle monae, come close by common and mary j. blige, and green eyes by erykah badu!

signing off happy father’s day to hobie 🫶🏾

—

not quite plug!hobie, but hobie who always has weed, who you smoke with the first time you buy from him.

you usually don’t smoke with randoms, but you hear some old 90's rap playing from inside his car, and he invites you in when you comment on it.

"what you know bout this?" you ask with a smile.

"a lot, actually. you wanna smoke and listen?"

not quite plug!hobie who's fine as fuck as he sits opposite you in his ride, tall and darkskin with cool ass hair. wild ass accent and even wilder style, but he makes it work. his music taste adds on to his overall allure.

but his political views? god. the charm in the shape of a little 'a' surrounded by a circle hanging from his mirror lets you know that he ain't like these other niggas.

he's an anarchist. so far, you're the only anarchist you know. it's so rare to find someone who has the same values as you.

not quite plug!hobie who's car you leave with music recs clumsily typed into your notes, and someone to talk about politics with, though you're too shy to text the pretty boy with the good weed, so you're sure it'll never happen.

not quite plug!hobie who texts you when you get home to make sure you arrived safely.

"driving while high ain't safe, ya know? you at home?"

"i've done it before. i made it home."

not quite plug!hobie who's so nice to you, complimenting your outfits and hair, even noticing when you meet him the 3rd time with a new style.

not quite plug! hobie who you find out has been giving you discounts when your friends ask if you ever bought from him after their recommendation, and you run them in on the details. you think it’s just cause y’all smoked the first time you ever bought from him and you bonded over political views and music. you don’t think nothing else of it.

not quite plug!hobie who you find yourself thinking about more and more often, ever since that first time y'all smoked together.

not quite plug!hobie who finds himself in the same predicament.

not quite plug!hobie who answers the door on your 6th buy in a pair of red sweats and a tight white t-shirt that hugs his lanky frame, hair tied up with a blue shoe string. he invites you into his crib, citing reasons of having no one else to talk to about his views with. after all, it's the first time you both have time to sit and talk and listen to music instead of a quick deal since that first time.

not quite plug!hobie who you get faded as fuck with, this time sharing a joint on his janky couch, heavy hands brushing against each other with each pass. he tries to ignore the aching in his very core every time you speak your mind, your aligning politics driving him crazy.

you mirror him, shaking off the.. arousal?.. no, it can't be. you can't be getting all heated just cause a man is an anarchist. whatever. just ignore it.

not quite plug!hobie who laughs when you tell him straight up, “people aren’t killing politicians anymore. that’s our fuckin’ problem.”

"really? you're wild. but i get it."

"course you do." you nod, taking another drag of the joint. erykah badu's "green eyes" is playing quietly in the background of your convo. hobie starts laughing.

"what?" you smile.

"song's called green eyes, right? well we got red eyes." it's corny and wouldn't be funny if you two weren't high as shit, but you are high as shit, so it's fucking hilarious.

not quite plug!hobie who's eyes linger on you as he pulls laugh after laugh out of your chest with his snarky little jokes.

not quite plug!hobie who walks you to your car after your smoke session, telling you to get home safely. he passes out after his head hits the bed, that after smoke sleep being some of the best he's ever had. he tries to chase you out of his mind as he succumbs to the cess.

not quite plug!hobie who lights a joint and then pulls his dick out the next day, hard and heavy, and strokes it thinking about his pretty little client— friend? whatever — hips stuttering as he wraps his hand around his thick base. he's tried to shake you off, went all day distracting himself with this and that, but it's not working.

not quite plug!hobie who cums in white spurts splattering on his chest to the thought of making you cum in a room filled with smoke, some old r&b playin as he dicks you down the way he's been wanting to since the first time your pretty ass came to him asking for some weed. he wants you bent over on the end of his bed, eyes low and red while he fills you up and fucks you good, gives you his dick like he feels you so rightfully deserve.

not quite plug!hobie who you seriously can't stop thinking of. last night's smoke session has you on edge, so you light another joint, but weed always gets you horny, so when you slip your fingers into your panties and touch yourself to the thought of the pretty darkskin boy with the piercings and cool hair pushing his fat cock into your pretty hole, you blame it on the mary jane sitting pretty in your veins.

the fault lies in the mary jane for making you think about him laid on top of you, talking you through it as he damn near kisses your cervix, his wiry hands roaming your body. the fault lies in the mary jane for having your legs shaking, imagining your pretty plug folding you in half and ruining you, leaving you and your cunt sore and satisfied and dripping his cum.

not quite plug!hobie who cleans up while telling himself that he can't do this again, that you're not interested in him.

not quite plug!hobie who you block out of your mind as you shower. what you did wasn't right. it won't happen again.

not quite plug!hobie who you don’t buy from for a minute, cause you’re trying to stop smoking so much, for a while. you still keep in contact with him, though. daily texts, funny memes, and of course talks of anarchy. one day, you call him “bee” instead of hobie, and it sticks. he likes it.

not quite plug!hobie… who you fuck yourself to again, this time slipping three fingers inside your greedy cunt to satiate the need for him. it’s almost every night, and it’s a different fantasy every time. 

in the backseat of his car, bent over on his counter, pressed into his couch cushions. your head pressing into your pillows while visions of hobie’s lips pressed to your ear praising you endlessly for being his good girl and taking him so well torment you. you’re insatiable, but when you text you have to pretend like you don’t want his piercing scraping against your clit as he eats you like a man starved.

not quite plug!hobie who has the same dilemma as you.. he can’t even go a couple of hours without growing hard in his sweats, glimpses of you spread out on his bed with your thighs thrown over his shoulders, or you face down ass up, sobbing in pure ecstasy. it’s not made better by y’all’s constant texting, more and more of your personality being revealed to him each day.

you both share one brain, really. and that one brain finds each other attractive, of course, but it’s not just that. it’s not just pure lust. you two have more in common than anyone you’ve ever met, and that sinks ache and want so deep into you that every night and day is spent trying to rid yourselves of it.

not quite plug!hobie who you buy from again almost two weeks later, two weeks that were filled with funny conversations and deep discussions of politics through text. two weeks that solidify the growing feelings you have for each other. this time, he’s wearing a pair of blue sweats and a tight black tee, and his hair is tied up just like the first time you came to his house. this time, brandy’s playing throughout his crib.

you’ve only known each other for about two months, but it feels like longer, for the both of you. you take your seat on the couch as he grabs his stash and his papers, pulling out one paper to roll up.

not quite plug!hobie who sits a little bit closer than he did last time. he smells good. your head is swimming already. 

not quite plug!hobie who lights up and then lets you take the first hit, watching you wrap your glossy lips around the joint like he doesn’t wish they were wrapped around his dick instead. you pass the joint to him and settle onto the couch, raking your eyes over his lanky frame, and what you swear is a hard-on. no way. it has to be the weed. 

he settles back onto the couch too, extending his long arms on the back. his arm comes up behind your head, and you rest your head on it, smiling dopily when he directs his hazy gaze your way. his playlist must have ended. you're left with him and your thoughts.

“you’re funny, you know?” he says through a breath of smoke, passing the joint to you.

“yeah?” you reply, hitting it again. “everyone tells me i’m just corny.”

“you’re not corny. you’re pretty hilarious, if i’m bein’ honest.” 

and there it is again.

not quite plug!hobie whose words light that fire in you again, the fire that you’ve been dousing every night for the past two fucking weeks. fuck, not here. not now. you grab the joint from him in an attempt to push more weed into your system to flush him out, but you meet his pretty fuckin’ brown eyes and they’re low and his lips looks so good and he smells so good and suddenly you’re asking not quite plug who you’re two seconds away from fucking!hobie why he’s been charging you less than everyone else who buys from him and why he invited you into his car and into his house, twice.

and not quite plug who really wants to kiss you right now!hobie can’t even joke and twist his way out of this one. he’s tired of cumming alone to the thought of you. the worst you can do is leave. but the best? god, so many things.

“'s cause i think you’re pretty. n' i really wanna kiss you right now.”

“then do it.”

not quite plug!hobie who tastes like weed and chocolate. the hand that was resting on the back of the couch finds it’s way to the small of your back, fingers drawing nonsensical shapes into it. your hands find his knee and his neck as you press your lips into his. you slide closer to him, and then he’s using the hand resting on your back to push you into his lap, hands settling on your hips as you settle above him, your hands circling around his neck.

“how long?” you ask between kisses.

“since the day you walked up to my car.” he responds quietly, cheeks heating up with embarrassment. he’s quick to trap your lips again.

god, he is hard. and he’s big, you can feel him pressing against the inside of your thigh. you hold your tongue, figuring you could deal with that later. right now, you just need to get out what you’ve been keeping in since the day you two met and you spotted the little ‘a’ hanging from his mirror.

the kiss grows deeper and he grows a little less shy, starting to use his hands gripping your waist to grind you against him. heat floods you when you realize that he's pulling you onto his cock, pressing your cunt against him, separated by the fabric of his sweats and your shorts.

you find his rhythm, falling into the pattern of his soft pushes and presses, a gentle lull of bodies moving against each other that makes you even more comfortable than you already are. soft little groans escaping the both of you, mixing with the smoke and infatuation in the air.

he lets you move the way you want, lithe fingers tracing up your back, hovering over where your hair falls onto your neck. he keeps kissing you for a minute, seemingly frozen. but then he's pulling away to speak, "can i- can i touch your hair?"

you stop moving with a smile. you nod. "yeah. thanks for asking." you kiss him again.

"course, love." he nods, and then he kisses you again. his long fingers snake into your hair, gently and softly. he strokes his hands through your locks, in time with your kisses and the movements of your hips that have started again. hands migrating from his neck, sliding down his chest, laying flat-palmed. your fingers slide under his tee, curling and gripping to pull him ever closer to you.

not quite plug!hobie who could kiss you forever. you could too, but you want more. you need him. so you pull away just a little, murmur "can feel you against me." chills rack through him at your words.

"i know. 'm so hard, darlin'." he pushes his hips up just a little, drawing a muffled whine from you.

"been wantin' you so bad.." you trail off. hobie takes it upon himself to move his hands from your hair to the waistband of your shorts, eyes fixed on yours, watching your every move. you nod, giving him permission to snake his fingers into your shorts, fingers that are met with no resistance.

"no panties? did'ya plan this, doll?" he smiles, slim fingers exploring your wetness, doing what he can with the limited space.

"mhm." you shake your head. "'s more comfortable." he hums in agreement. he circles your clit with his middle finger, dipping towards your entrance to collect more slick. you push down against his fingers, causing him to have to crane his wrist to reach you.

"can we take these off? can't touch you the way i wanna." you blush, averting your eyes to focus on the hand that disappears into your shorts.

"yeah." you breathe shakily, standing up and letting hobie pull them down your legs, hands on his shoulders as balance. your shirt is long, and it falls down to give you some modesty. hobie throws your shorts somewhere behind you before he leans back, giving you space to sit back down.

he looks so fucking good, brown eyes staring at you like you hung the stars in the sky. he reaches out for you, pulling you back into his lap by your hips. his hand disappears under your shirt while his lips find yours again, exploring you more freely this time.

"so wet, doll." he murmurs between one kiss and another, smiling when you whine. his fingers move at different speeds, pressing in different areas and circling at different speeds until he finds a combination that makes you jolt against him, whining "bee."

"thaaaaat's it, love." this time, you don't return your lips to his, instead tucking your head into his neck as you hump shamelessly against his hand, his cock pressing hard and heavy against your thigh. "keep going, baby," he urges, "show me how it feels."

and you do. you shiver and shake and whine and groan in pleasure, pressing kisses in his brown skin as he touches you the way he touched himself thinking about.

not quite plug!hobie who presses his thumb into your clit, sliding his hand farther down to tease your drooling hole. "'s wet, love. g'na feel so good 'round me." you moan loudly at that, at the thought of your fantasies coming true. you cant your hips down, sliding down his fingers until they're seated inside you, stroking gently at your sensitive walls.

pulling them out softly, he curls his fingers, twisting his wrist as you whine and mouth at his neck. "'s okay. you can bite." he nods, catching onto what you were holding yourself back from. you still don't, resign to licking and sucking instead.

until his fingers catch the spongy spot inside you, and your teeth are sinking into the column. "fuck," you damn near shout, pushing yourself onto his hand. he groans in response, pleased to be pleasing you and indulging in the pain you inflict on him. thumb on your clit and fingers playing with that spot, he brings his other hand from your hip to your hair to soothe you, to ground you.

it's sweet, really, his hand in your hair while the other one touches you the way you've been dreaming of. coos and hums meet your ears, soft sounds of affirmation egging you on to let yourself get lost in the pleasure he delivers you. arousal steadily dripping out of your hole, hobie's fingers sliding easier and easier inside you until he can pull out and slip right back in.

"you're so pretty, dove, fuckin' dreamgirl." he murmurs, staring down at your pretty face, arched eyebrows turned down in ecstasy, lips parted. the praise takes you closer and closer to the edge, his deep voice reverberating throughout your entire being, the pangs of arousal in your clit growing harder and faster. you're close.

you're so goddamn close to cumming for a boy you just wanted to buy from. his long fingers reach deep, deeper than you could ever even dream of. “hobie- i- i’m g’na-” you stutter against his neck, hips stuttering against his fingers.

“‘s okay, love, cum. i’m right here.” the rubber band snaps, and you're tightening your thighs around his hand while you shake and shiver, eyes closed tight with soft whines of "hobie, god it feels so good" tumbling from your lips. you tighten around his fingers, too, squeeze him so tight he winces, cause he just knows you're gonna feel so good wrapped around him. he pushes that thought away, though, focused on helping you ride out your orgasm.

fingers pressing into your clit and that spot inside you, he makes sure to milk every last second of your climax, eyes fixed on your ethereal features. aftershocks still racking through you, you finally open your eyes, and he takes it as a sign to gently pull his fingers out of you and wipe them on his sweats, and you shudder at the feeling.

"that was. . so much better than i imagined. n' i imagined it being pretty good." you smile and giggle, placing a kiss on his neck. he laughs in response, raising his eyebrows at your confession.

"bet i'm a better fuck than you imagined, too." the air in the room shifts again, and suddenly you're aware of his cock pressed against your thigh through his sweats again.

"bet you are."

you raise up, kissing him again as your hands find the waistband of his sweats and invite themselves in, meeting his dick that's been hard since you first sat down on his couch. "and i'm the one who planned this? you're free-balling." you murmur against his lips, and he mirrors your words from earlier.

"'s more comfortable, 's all— fuck." he's cut off when you pull his cock out of his sweats and run your finger over his pretty brown tip, dipping into his slit. his hips thrust up, chasing your soft hand. "g'na drive me crazy." he almost whines, jerking against you when you swipe your thumb against his aching tip again.

"just returnin' the favor." you shoot back, raising up to hover over him, swiping his leaking dick through your wetness. he wraps his hand around his thick base, moving in time with your teasing strokes. "you're big." you groan, hesitating to seat yourself on him.

"i know, doll, you can take it though. we'll make you take it." he speaks into your clothed chest, muffled and horny, and you’re sure he means what he says. you drip even more at his words, sticky slick wetting his fat tip.

not quite plug!hobie whose hands are on your hips as you sink down onto his pretty dick, whining into his neck as he encourages you. “you got it, baby, you’re takin’ me so well. god, she’s so wet.”

"she— fuck that's so hot," you moan, eyes rolling back at his words.

"mhm?" he hums.

you don't respond, too busy focusing on his fat cock pushing into you, focusing on the way you both make it fit, exactly like he said you would. finally, he bottoms out, your thighs resting against his sweats.

"g' job, babe. knew you could take me." you jolt against him, his heady words sending another pang of arousal straight to where you two meet.

not quite!plug hobie who you tell to move, raising your hips up as he pulls out, meeting him in the middle as he fills you back up. his hips slot against yours again, and his big chocolate eyes are fixed on yours, gazing upon you in adoration, while your eyes are fixed on where he disappears into you.

"so big, feels s'good. ." you whisper, meeting his gaze. the look in his eyes has chills running down your spine as you raise your hips again, choosing to connect your lips with his again. hobie starts to find a rhythm, now, wrapping his long arms around your waist. you swap spit with him as his hips meet your ass, taking over.

body bouncing with each of his thrusts into your pussy, arms wrapped around his neck. his lips slipping against yours, plump and wet. you both take it slow, basking in the feeling of finally being like this with someone you've wanted since you first saw them.

he fills you up so nicely, thick cock nestled in your achy walls, leaking tip just barely kissing your cervix as he thrusts just a bit harder and you push down a little more.

"y'feel me, darlin? 'm all the way in, at the end of you, god, 'm g'na make you mine." he babbles in pleasure, pushing his hips up even harder. still soft, but firm, and deliberate.

you nod against his lips, hand resting on his cheek. "feel you, bee, feel you in my fuckin' stomach, i swear." you feed off of him and he feeds off of you, kissing and slapping your hips against the others, wild and wanting. "fuckin' me so good, bee, makin' me yours."

"makin' me yours, doll, pussy's squeezin' me like she don't w'na let go."

"don't wanna let go, wan' you so bad." you confess, bringing your ass down onto his cock again. "i— fuck," you sob. his cock curves just right, and with his tip pressing against your spot now, hobie's found new determination.

"that it?" he asks, making sure to keep hitting that spongy patch of skin with every thrust, sheathing his cock in your wet heat.

"'s it, hobie, feels so good, shit." the high has worn off by now, leaving pure emotions and desire driving you two. you get tight around him again, cunt pulsing with every slam of his hips against yours. you feel so good around him, so tight and wet.

"'m g'na—, you're gonna make me cum, bee."

he moves one hand from around your waist at that, sliding between you two to toy with your clit, thumb rubbing wild shapes against the throbbing bud.

"fuck," you cry, grinding against his thumb and down onto his dick.

"you close again, doll? wan' you to wet me up, ma'me a mess," he encourages, big brown eyes fixed on yours like they've been the whole night.

"'m so close, bee, wanna cum for you, wanna wet you up."

"then do it." he mirrors your words from earlier, and the pleasure pulsing through your veins and infatuation swirling around in your blood gets to be too much, and you cum on his cock, still slamming your hips down onto him, meeting his thrusts in the middle. "thaaaat's it, doll." you hear hobie praise through the fog in your mind, bounces turned to messy grinds as you get all tight around him, cumming hard.

"y'alright, love?" he asks, moving your hair out of your face.

"mhm. w'na go again, you haven't come yet." he chuckles at your words, wrapping both hands around your waist and kissing you again.

"lay back, love." he murmurs against your lips, flipping you onto the couch. your back meets the smooth fabric as he lays you down, pulling his tee and his sweats off. you follow suit, stripping your shirt off and throwing it somewhere behind his couch. his watchful eyes fall on your face, then your tits, then your cunt, taking your body in for the first time.

he finds his place on top of you, balancing himself on his elbows as he kisses you again. he reaches down, but you stop him. "lemme do it," you urge, replacing his hand. you line him up with your sopping entrance, nodding twice to tell him to push in.

the stretch is so fucking good, his cock bullying it's way into your tight cunt again.

"fuck, that's it," he curses, watching your face as he seats himself in your once again.

"so deep. ." you trail off, looking down at your stomach, and oh fuck, no way.

"hobie, hobes, look," you urge, and he points his gaze to where you're looking.

"oh, love, look at that. can see myself, right there," he presses down on the bulge he creates, ripping a broken moan straight from your throat.

"fuck me, please," you sob, squirming under him. he nods, understanding, and finds his rhythm easier this time, lean hips slapping against you. your body jolts up the couch with every thrust, choppy whines of nonsensical sentences leaving your mouth.

not quite plug who's absolutely pussydrunk!hobie can't get enough of your cunt, the way you squeeze him oh so tight, the wet squelches of your heat drawing him further into madness. he needs to go deeper, needs to fuck you harder, so he raises up, throwing your legs over his shoulders, leaning back down to bury his cock deep inside you.

"baby, fuck." it's a gritted groan, head rolling back onto the couch as he mouths at your neck, licking and biting at your heated skin. his thrusts are slow and firm, dick kissing your cervix, the slaps sounding out through his living room.

you're both quiet this time around, too blissed out to do anything but fuck, allowing yourselves to succumb to pleasure. every inch of his cock fills you, driving you crazy, driving him crazy too. it's intimate, his lips on your neck, your fingers palming at his back, limbs tangled together. and you can feel it building up in you again.

"'m g'na cum, hobes." he moves one of his arms, bringing his thumb down to rub at your clit, still mouthing at your neck. he lets it happen this time, doesn't urge you or change anything he's doing, and you coast into your climax so gratifyingly that you almost cry, squeezing him tight once again. now, your focus is on making him cum.

"wan' you to cum, hobes."

"gotta pull out, love. we ain' even put a rubber on." he realizes.

"no you don't. 'm clean. jus' fill me up, please." in your right mind, you wouldn't let him, but you're not in your right mind, and neither is he. so he cums with a groan, shaking as he spills pressed against your cervix.

the air's.. different now, satisfied and calm. you both lay there for a while, until hobie's picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up.

after, he lights another joint that you two share tucked under his covers, hugged up like a couple.

not quite plug!hobie holds you as you both fall asleep.

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ sometimes goodbye is a second chance ] j. hughes

paring : Jack Hughes x fem!reader

summary : Jack and his ex reunite at Nico’s wedding, reigniting some old feelings between the pair

warning(s) : a heavy makeout session, mentions of injured!jack & hockey injuries

author’s note : was reading something for jack then realized that it’s been a hot second since i wrote anything for him so that’s how this lil thing was born lmaoo. enjoy loves

༺═──────────────═༻

She wasn't going to go to the wedding. As a matter of fact, she made sure she had plans for that weekend that she was supposed to be in Switzerland so she could use them as an excuse to why she couldn't be there for the wedding.

Then Nico did everything but get on his hands and knees to beg her to come since she is one of his close friends. How could she say no to those big doe eyes that the captain of the Devils has? Even she's not immune to those eyes of his.

It's a beautiful day when she arrives for the wedding. Nico waits for her by baggage claim when she walks into Bern Airport after getting off the plane that brought her to Switzerland. She smiles and runs up to her close friend. Despite everything that happened right after the new year, she and Nico stayed close.

Well, as close as they could be while she was busy avoiding one of his teammates.

When she gets to Nico, she wraps her arms around him. "So happy you could come," Nico tells her as they back away from each other. "Mia is even excited that you're here."

"Nico, I can't ever say no to either of you," she teases. "I'm happy that I came too though. Forgot how beautiful it is here."

She grabs her suitcase and duffel bag before she walks outside to Nico's car. "So, all the guests are at the hotel already since the rehearsal dinner is tonight on the roof," he tells her as they load her stuff into the car. "There's probably enough time for you to take a nap if you want to take one since I know you're a big napper after you travel." She playfully punches his shoulder as soon as she's settled in the passenger's seat. "I'm just saying that you came in eight hours before the dinner so you have time to sleep if you want!"

"You don't have to call me a 'big napper'," she retorts with a smile on her face. Nico sticks his tongue out at her. "Oh, how grown up. Aren't you getting married tomorrow?"

"And my fiancé finds it cute when I stick my tongue out at her."

"Doesn't work on me, Nico. Hate to break it to you."

After about twenty minutes of driving, Nico pulls up to the hotel. She looks up at the building with a sigh.

The entire drive, her mind has been on her ex-boyfriend. She knows that he'll be here, but she doesn't know if he's already here.

Nico turns the car off as soon as he finds a parking spot. She sighs and unbuckles her seatbelt. She waits to get out though. She doesn't know how she feels about running into Jack, but right now she's very anxious.

It's not that they ended on bad terms. She just couldn't watch him keep playing and risking long term damage to his shoulder.

He kept forcing himself to get back on the ice before his body was ready and he wasn't able to heal correctly. She couldn't bear to watch him keep hurting himself, so she walked away.

Of course she kept tabs on him throughout the rest of the season after she walked away in January. It broke her heart to miss the Stadium Series game because she was looking forward to seeing both him and Luke play. She was ecstatic when she saw online that he was going to be getting surgery on the shoulder that he hurt in the game against Chicago.

She didn't reach out though. She didn't think she had the right.

"I know you're worried about seeing him," Nico states. "I made sure that your rooms were on different floors so you won't see each other until later. He, um ..." he trails off. "He tells me all the time how much he wishes he listened to you and let his body heal."

"He only keeps saying that because he wishes he never lost me," she comments as she blinks away the tears that have formed in her eyes. "I walked away because I couldn't keep watching him hurt himself to play a sport. I know he loves it, but he loved it more than he loved me so I walked away."

"He got surgery back in April," Nico tells her. "Before the season even ended to get a head start on his recovery. He started doing physical therapy two weeks ago so he's doing well. He'll get back on the ice in a month. I told him to take it easy."

A tear rolls down her cheek and she quickly wipes it away. "Why couldn't he just do this sooner?" she says. Her voice is so shaky that she can barely speak.

Nico grabs her hand. "He needed to lose you to realize that what he was doing was not okay," he replies. "I know how hard it's been for you. Both of you. I think that the two of you should talk this weekend. For both your sakes."

She shakes her head and looks at Nico. "I don't know if I can face him after walking away from him," she cries. "You didn't see the look on his face when I left the apartment that day, Nico. You didn't see how much I hurt him when he was already in physical pain. I don't know if he even wants to talk to me after that. I kicked him when he was already down."

He pulls her across the armrest and into a hug. She cries into his shoulder and grasps onto his t-shirt. "He's worried that you won't talk to him," he admits. "Just so you know. If you want to talk to him, do it. You both need some closure."

The worst part is that she knows it too. She walked away and didn't reply to a single one of his texts or calls. She moved to Philadelphia to her brother's apartment so she was just far enough away that he couldn't drive to her but close enough if something happened to him.

She never stopped caring, and she should probably tell him that.

With a nod, she pulls away. "Okay," she sighs. "I'll talk to him. Only if he wants to talk to me though."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

She doesn't talk to Jack at the rehearsal dinner. As a matter of fact, she doesn't even see him at the rehearsal dinner. There aren't a ton of people at the dinner either so she thought that she would see him. It surprises her that she didn't.

Getting ready the next afternoon though, she knows that today will be the day she sees him. At least she'll look her best when he sees her for the first time since she walked out on that cold January day. Same goes for him. Jack's always looked good in a suit and tie. She wonders which one of his game day suits he'll be in today.

Three rolls around and she heads from her second floor hotel room down to the first floor. She'd walk down the stairs if her feet weren't already killing her from the heels she has on.

The ceremony is taking place in the ballroom because of how many guests will be attending. The reception and dinner are taking place up on the rooftop at five so Nico and his new wife can get some pictures taken up there before everyone joins them.

Elevator doors open and she's met with the one person she's been wanting to avoid until the reception tonight. Jack freezes like a deer in headlights, but his eyes drink her in as she steps onto the elevator.

It's not like she's wearing something very revealing. The top of her red dress hugs her body, shoves off her curves, and pushes her breasts up a little bit. Her loose sleeves hang off her shoulders. The skirt falls to her knees and is kind of puffy.

"Uh, hi," Jack breathes out as the door closes behind her. "You, um, look good."

"Hi," she replies as she runs her fingers through her curls. "You too. Um, look good." His red tie with his black and white suit matches her red dress. Nico definitely told him what color that she was going to wear.

His eyes flicker down her body again and she feels self-conscious of the way her dress hugs her body. She crosses her arms over her chest and prays that the doors open soon.

Jack quickly picks up on how uncomfortable she is. "Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Stare?" she interrupts. "It's fine." The elevator dings and the doors slide open behind her. "I'll see you around."

She quickly makes her escape. Her heels are muffled by the carpet but she finds the room that she knows Nico is in.

After she knocks a handful of times, the door opens. Nico is the one that opens the door. He looks handsome in his suit and tie. He has a white rose hanging out of his flap on his jacket. "Oh, don't you look nice dressed up," she comments.

Nico rolls his eyes and lets her in the room. "Oh, shush," Nico retorts. She looks behind him as she walks into the room to and sees his older brother, his dad, Timo, and Jonas.

"Hi," she says to everyone in the room. "Just needed to come talk to Nico for a second. Won't keep him very long. I swear."

"What's going on?" Nico questions behind her.

She turns to face him. "I ran into Jack," she replies. "Wearing a red tie. Want to tell me why he was wearing a red tie when I'm wearing a red dress?"

He shoots her a smile. "Purely coincidental," Nico tells her. "He does play on a team that wears red and black so many he was missing the team when he picked out his tie."

"Nico Hischier, I'm going to kill you on your wedding day if you don't start talking in the next two seconds," she snaps.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Nico laughs as he throws his hands up in the air in surrender. “I have no idea why Jack’s wearing a red tie. I didn’t tell him what you were wearing if that’s why you came marching in here to yell at me.”

She sighs and rubs her fingers through her curls. “Okay,” she replies. “I think I’m just losing it or something. Kind of freaking out.”

“Have you talked to him?” asks Timo. She looks over Nico’s shoulder to look at him. “I mean, it might solve that unresolved tension between you. It’s so thick that I can feel it when he’s not even in the room.”

With a blink of her eyes, she says, “I can’t believe I never thought of talking to him. Wow.”

Timo rolls his eyes and Nico takes over the conversation. “Look, I know you’re avoiding him because you think he doesn’t want to talk to you,” he begins to say. “But even Timo and Seigs can attest to this, Jack wants to talk to you. Seriously. He’s nervous you won’t talk to him. You’ll be in the same area for the rest of the day. Please say more than just ‘you look good’ to him.”

She groans in slight frustration. “You are insufferable,” she tells her close friend. “Good luck Mia.”

There’s laughter behind her as she walks out of the room to get to where the ceremony is taking place in one of the larger rooms.

It’s almost like a very large conference room with a lot of chairs. There has to be nearly a hundred chairs in the room. She greets Nico’s mom and sister as well as some of his Devils teammates.

Across the room, she sees Jack talking to his brothers. All three of them look very handsome. That’s when she realizes that Jack’s arm isn’t in a sling like he was the last time she saw a picture of him. She was too shocked earlier in the elevator to notice that he doesn’t have on a sling. His hair is a little longer than it was a few months ago. He smiles at something Quinn said.

She takes her seat right behind the Devils, sitting right behind Jack of all people. He sits between Haula and Merc.

When she goes to say something, the ceremony starts.

Talking to Jack is just going to have to wait.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

There’s an hour between when the ceremony ends and the reception begins so Nico and Mia can take pictures up on the roof. She needs to touch up her makeup since she decided to cry while Nico was saying his vows. Her best friend grew up so much since they met back at the 2017 NHL draft.

A lot of the guests have already made their way to the roof when she gets up there. She grabs a glass of champagne from a tray that a waiter is holding and takes a big gulp of it to prepare her for the night to come.

She spots Dawson, Luke, Jesper, and Simon all standing by the railing. No Jack so it’s safe to approach despite his little brother standing there. She hopes that Luke doesn’t hate her guts for breaking his brother’s heart.

When she approaches the group of Devils, Dawson gets excited. “Oh my God, I didn’t think you were coming,” he says as he drapes an arm over her shoulders.

“And miss a Swiss wedding?” she laughs. “Absolutely not. I wasn’t about to skip out on Nico’s wedding.” The boys laugh, even Luke. Her eyes fall on the youngest of the Hughes boys. “And how are you, baby Hughes? Still settling in well with the team?”

Luke nods with a smile. “The guys have been very welcoming,” he tells her. “Helped me out of that slump I was in.”

She mirrors his smile. “That’s great,” she says. “Glad you were able to come in and get right to it. Being a Calder nominee isn’t an easy feat so I wanted to come congratulate you on your rookie season.”

“Thank you.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she notices Jack. He stands with Dougie, Dawsy, Haula, and Nico. Mia stands with her arm hooked with her new husband’s.

Luke, Dawson, and Nemec all walk away to get another drink. Jesper stands next to her. “How many times have you been told to talk to him?” Bratter asks.

“Too many so please don’t-”

“I’m not. I was just going to offer to go get him if you did want to talk to him.”

She sighs and finishes her glass of champagne. “I want to talk to him but do you really think he’ll listen to me if I apologize?” she comments.

“I do,” Bratter replies. She looks up at him. “I mean it. He has been kicking himself for months. I know he misses you. I don’t know if he misses your relationship or just you in his life but he misses you. I think talking to him is worth it.”

She turns her head to look at Jack. He looks happy and she doesn’t want to ruin that. “What if I just upset him?” she questions. “I don’t want to ruin his happiness.”

“He’s not truly happy without you,” Jesper says. “Talk to him. I think he’ll listen to what you have to say. Maybe he will even offer his own apology to you. I’ll be right back.”

Then he walks away. She watches him walk up to Jack and say something to him. She stands straight up and sighs when Jack looks over at her. She puts a smile on her face and heads over to the group.

It’s now or never. It’s early in the evening so neither of them are drunk yet. She’s had just enough alcohol to give her the courage to have this conversation with Jack.

All eyes are on her, but her eyes are on Jack. “Hi,” she breathes out. “Can we talk for a second? Please? Alone?”

Jack nods and hands his drink to Dougie. She shoots a smiling Nico a glare as she turns and walks inside so they’re away from the prying eyes of Jack’s teammates and her mutual friends that she has with Nico. They’re all very nosy.

She finds a little room off to the side that she walks into with a sigh. She picks at the skin around her fingernails out of nerves.

This is truly it. The next few minutes are either going to make or break whatever relationship or friendship they have left. She bites the inside of her cheek as she turns and faces Jack.

“What did you want to-” Jack begins to say before she interrupts him.

“I want to apologize,” she quickly replies. “For that night. For ignoring all your calls and texts after. I shouldn’t have given you that ultimatum. Not at that moment, anyway. I caused you emotional pain while you were in so much physical pain.”

Jack’s face falls into a frown as she talks. He starts to shake his head the longer she talks. “No, you had every right to give me that ultimatum,” he tells her. “I pushed myself way too hard and losing you opened my eyes to just how hard I was pushing myself. To what I was putting my body through. I didn’t understand why at first but now I do. I’m sorry that I saw that too late.”

Tears form in her eyes at the softness of his voice. She wasn’t expecting this Jack when she talked to him.

“I thought you’d be mad,” she admits. “I thought you’d want to yell at me for walking away. For ending it.”

“I was mad,” Jack says. “Believe me. I was so mad that I pushed myself even harder for a few weeks. Then there was setback after setback and I finally understood why.”

The tears that formed in her eyes roll down her cheeks, painting her skin black with eyeliner. She should’ve grabbed her waterproof eyeliner but she didn’t.

She stares across the room at her ex. Neither of them say a word for a second, before she asks the question she has wanted to know the answer to for nearly six months.

“Why did you do it?” she asks. “Why did you have to push yourself so hard and risk long term damage? Don’t tell me it’s because you love hockey and put your all into the sport. You shouldn’t have to push yourself to the point of surgery.”

Jack looks down at his feet and she raises her eyebrows. She presses her lips in a tight line as she waits for him to respond.

The answer she gets is not the one she was ready for.

“I thought that no one would care about me or love me if I wasn’t playing hockey,” Jack mumbles. “All anyone has talked about this season is me and my brothers. Hughes Bowl, me getting to 100 points after hitting 99 last season, whatever about me and Luke playing together. It seemed like no one would give a shit about me if I had stopped mid-season to heal. It seemed like everyone would write me off as weak or get mad at me for taking care of my shoulder. So I pushed you away and pushed myself to play until we got eliminated from contention so no one could blame me for missing playoffs. I didn’t want to be the reason we missed playoffs, but it feels like I am anyway.”

She frowns at his response. She had no idea that he felt this way.

There’s some space between them so she takes a few steps forward so she stands in front of him. “You could have talked to me,” she softly tells him. “I was willing to support you through whatever you needed to do to be healthy. Yet you seemed to care more about hockey than me.”

He lifts his head up and that’s when she sees the tears in his eyes. She pouts at the sight.

“I didn’t want you to see me at my lowest, and I’m sorry for pushing you away,” Jack comments. “I love you and I didn’t want you to see that side of me. I love you more than I have ever loved hockey. I should’ve listened to you when you told me to rest and I didn’t. I should have.” He pauses for a second and meets her eyes. “I never should have let you walk out that door.”

She reaches up to dry his cheeks when the tears begin to roll. “You know that everyone would still love and care about you if you had just pressed pause on the season,” she tells him. “Everyone that loves you would’ve supported you if you just let your body heal. No one likes seeing a player push himself to surgery. I would have stayed and helped you instead of loving and supporting you from afar.”

Jack leans down and rests his forehead on hers. His eyes are closed and her hands rest on his jaw. Her thumbs trace his cheekbones and her eyes remain on his face.

“I’m sorry,” Jack softly says.

“I’m sorry for walking out on you when you needed me,” she tells him. “I kicked you when you were down and it wasn’t fair of me to do that to you. I’m sorry I broke your heart.”

He wraps his hands around her wrists before he pulls them down so he can lace their fingers together. He doesn’t pull his forehead away and she doesn’t move either.

“You never broke my heart,” he whispers to her. “I broke yours by choosing hockey over you. I never wanted you to feel like I loved a sport more than you and that’s what I did. It’s my fault.”

She shakes her head and pulls back. Jack’s eyes open and he looks at her. His blue eyes shine with tears. “Even after everything, I still love you,” she admits. “I don’t believe that you can break my heart, Jack Hughes.”

He lets out a light laugh and shakes his head. “Same for you,” he tells her.

A small smile forms on her lips as she looks up at him. He lets one of her hands go to wipe away her tears. His thumb comes away black and he wipes her eyeliner on his black pants.

“Can I get a redo?” Jack asks. “On that ultimatum that you gave me? I have an answer for you.”

She bites the inside of her cheek before she asks in reply, “Is it going to be me? Or is it going to be your career?”

“It’s you, baby,” Jack instantly replies as he lifts his hand to cup her jaw. “It’ll always be you.”

The smile on her face grows. She licks her bottom lip as he pulls her in for a soft kiss. She hesitates for a second before she returns the kiss.

Jack drops her other hand so he can cup the other side of her jaw. Her fingers grasp at his open suit jacket so he can’t get too far. She wraps her arms around his torso under his jacket.

He takes a few steps forward so her back is pressed against a wall. She gasps as soon as her back hits the cool, smooth surface, but she doesn’t break the kiss. Jack leans down into her to deepen the already deep kiss. She presses herself flush against him.

His hands slide down to her waist before they slip behind her back. She feels his fingers graze the zipper and that’s when she pulls back. “Jack,” she sighs. “Not now.”

“Later though?”

“We’ll see,” she replies. “I think we should go back out. I’m sure Nico’s looking for us.”

Jack takes a few steps back to fix himself. She takes the moment to make sure she’s presentable as well.

With a sigh, she grabs Jack’s hand and they leave the room. Their fingers are laced together as they rejoin the reception. “So, how are we going to explain this to our friends?” Jack asks.

“We’ll just tell them that we got our heads out of our asses and apologized to each other,” she replies. “That we still love each other. I think saying goodbye gave us a second chance to do this the right way.”

They turn a corner and find themselves back on the roof with the rest of the party. “It did,” Jack says. She looks up at him. “Are you my girlfriend again? Or do I have to get down on my knees to beg you like I did the first time?”

She shakes her head with a laugh. “I’d like to see you get on your knees for a different reason so yes, I guess I’m you’re girlfriend again,” she tells him.

Jack presses a quick kiss to her lips, but every single one of their friends has already noticed.

“About damn time!” Nico shouts from across the room. A few of the Devils cheer for them and she steps even closer to her boyfriend.

༺═──────────────═༻

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[hyperactively-me]

break in, break down

"You're stayin' with me tonight," he declares, voice firm and unwavering. You open your mouth, nearly telling him no, I'll find a hotel, but the look he shoots you suggests that you go with him. With a nod of agreement, Simon leads you away from the scene, his hand on your back firm and reassuring.

this has been sitting in my drafts for like, ever. it's not the best cause its super old, like months old and i lowkey forgot i even had it, but it'll do for now while i'm in this writing rut.

happy reading <3

warnings: home invasion, panic attack reaction (i think that's it? lmk if i missed anything please!)

A loud bang reverberates through your apartment, your peaceful sleep interrupted.

You open your eyes with a start, the volume of the sound causing your heart race and your breath catch in your throat.

You're silent for another moment until the sound of glass shattering causes you to jump. You sit up now, dumbfounded for a brief moment before unshakable anxiety takes over.

There's no way this could be happening to you right now.

You immediately leap out of bed, grabbing a stray hoodie off the floor, slipping it over your thin pajamas. Next, you grab your phone with shaky hands, trembling from the adrenaline and anxiety coursing through your veins. The sounds from outside your bedroom are starting to get louder. You swipe your car keys from your drawer, shoving them into the pocket of your hoodie.

In a frenzy, you grope under your bed for a baseball bat, struggling to steady your shaking hands as you grip it tightly. The rattling of your doorknob nearly makes you pass out in fear. Simon had told you multiple times to keep your door locked when you sleep, stressing to you that it wasn't safe to leave it unlocked, especially at night.

There was no way you could escape through the hallway. Lucky for you, your apartment is on the first floor of the building, meaning that you would be able to safely jump out of your bedroom window without injuring yourself.

You place all your things down quickly, unlatching your window from its locks. You heave it open with all your might, grunting as you hold it up to lock it into an open position. Grabbing your baseball bat first, you throw it out the window and onto the grass below you. Could never be too safe.

Suddenly, the person or people on the other side of your door start kicking at it, the flimsy wood shaking from the impacts. You bite back a scream, prompting you to jump out of your window, dropping onto the grass below you clumsily.

You don't bother looking back as you sprint to your car in the adjacent parking lot, throwing yourself into the drivers seat unceremoniously.

Without another thought, you dial 911. Running on pure adrenaline, you tell the operator your address and the urgency of the situation. The kind voice on the other end tells you that the police are on their way before you hang up.

You bite back a sob as your shaking hands type in Simon's phone number. You hold your phone up to your, chewing your finger as it rings once, twice, and the line picks up.

"Hullo?" a scratchy, sleep-ridden voice on the other end of the line rings out. His accent sounds particularly thick.

"Simon," your voice breaks, the adrenaline now worn off, leaving you a wreck.

"What's wrong?" he asks immediately, now sounding more awake. You hear shuffling on the other end.

"I- I think my apartment got broken into," you sob, fat tears now freely falling down your cheeks. "I'm so scared," you cry, bawling like a baby.

Simon's voice takes on a sharp urgency. "'M coming over right now. Where are you? Are you hurt?"

"I'm in my car, in the parking lot," you say tearfully, trying to wipe the tears from your face unsuccessfully.

"I've already called 911; they're on the way—" you add, clutching onto your phone.

The sound of a door opening and slamming shut crackles through the phone. "Be there in ten. Stay on the line, love."

"I'm scared," you cry again, your free hand trembling as you reach to make sure your car door is locked.

"I know, love, I know. Just hang in there. 'M on my way," Simon reassures you, his voice gentle. The ten-minute wait feels like an eternity as you sit in your car, sniffling every so often as you look out your car windows to make sure no one is coming towards you.

Sirens wail in the distance, the police clearly arriving on scene. Despite the growing fear gnawing at you, Simon's voice provides a source of comfort.

"The police are almost here," you breath into the phone, pulling your knees up to your chest.

"Good, I'm here," he grunts. You look up and see his truck hurtling through the parking lot, stopping abruptly right behind your car. He slides out of his car, rushing to the drivers side of your car.

The moment he reaches your car, you throw open the door and practically fall into his arms. Simon holds you tight as you fall into him, sobs wracking your body.

"Don't cry," he soothes, pulling you tighter against him. "'S alright, 's handled."

He cradles you in his grasp, running his hand over your hair as you sob into his t-shirt, fists bunching up the fabric. You cling to him as if he's your lifeline, the scent of his t-shirt grounding you ever so slightly.

"I've got you," he murmurs, rubbing your back.

Your sobs gradually subside into quiet sniffles, and you take a deep breath.

The distant wailing of sirens grows closer, indicating the police are here. Simon releases you just enough to glance over his shoulder at the approaching vehicles. "The police are here," you whisper, your voice shaky but relieved.

The flashing lights of police cars illuminate the surroundings as officers approach. Simon steps back, maintaining a protective stance beside you.

Two police officers approach you and Simon, asking for details about the break-in. You pull at the hem of your hoodie, trying to cover up your practically bare thighs from your tiny pajamas. Simon settles his hand on your lower back, encouraging you to speak to the officers. You recount the events timidly, telling them as much as you know. After providing your statement, the police assure you they'll investigate your apartment, but advise you that it's not the best to stay there tonight. For obvious reasons.

Upon their insistence of you spending the night somewhere else, before you could even open your mouth, Simon is insisting, no, demanding that you stay with him for the night.

"You're stayin' with me tonight," he declares, voice firm and unwavering.

You open your mouth, nearly telling him no, I'll find a hotel, but the look he shoots you suggests that you go with him.

With a nod of agreement, Simon leads you away from the scene, his hand on your back firm and reassuring.

As you approach his truck, Simon opens the door for you. He helps you up into the passenger seat, making sure you're settled before closing the door with a determined thud. Simon then strides around to the driver's side, the scent of him lingering in the air as he gets in. The engine roars to life, and you find comfort in the steady hum of the engine.

The drive to Simon's place is mostly quiet. He occasionally glances at you, concern etched into his features. You stare out of the window, the events of the night replaying in your mind. You shiver in your seat, thinking about what could have happened if you hadn't escaped through your window. Simon's hand finds yours, a silent gesture that makes your heart ache with gratitude.

As you pull into Simon's driveway, you're met with the warm glow of his porch light. The familiar sight brings a new sense of relief. It's not the first time you've been to his quaint home. Simon turns off the engine, and without a word, he's at your side, opening the door for you again.

He leads you inside, the click of the door shutting behind you echoing in the quiet house. Simon heads to the kitchen, rummaging through cabinets. Moments later, he appears with a mug of tea, a small but comforting gesture. He hands it to you, the warmth seeping into your cold hands.

"Drink this. It'll help calm your nerves," he says, his voice gentle.

You take a sip, the familiar taste of chamomile offering a small respite. Simon sits across from you, watching as you try to steady your trembling hands. The silence between you isn't uncomfortable; it's a shared understanding that words might not be enough to mend the damage that's been dealt.

After a while, Simon breaks the silence. "I'll make up the spare room for you. Take your time. We'll deal with everythin' in the morning."

He disappears down the hall, leaving you alone in the living room. You look around his living room, eyeing his front door for a brief moment. You finish the tea and set the mug on the coffee table, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over you.

When you enter the spare room, you find it tidy and pretty bare. The scent of clean sheets and the comforting atmosphere of his home a stark difference from your own. You watch as he double checks the windows to make sure they're locked tight. He also shows you the lock on your own bedroom door.

"Everythin' is secure, 've triple checked it all," Simon states, turning from the window to look at you. His concern is evident in his eyes, and you nod in response.

"Thank you, Simon. I appreciate all of this," you say, your voice quiet.

He moves over to the wall, crouching down to plug a night light into the wall. He taps it a few times to make sure it works. When it flickers on, he grunts, satisfied. Pushing himself up to standing, he walks over to you.

He gives you a reassuring smile. "No need to thank me. 'S the least I can do. You get some rest. 'M right across the hall if you need anything."

With that, he leaves the room, gently closing the door behind him. You make sure to lock the door behind him as he leaves. You crawl into bed, pulling the covers over your weary body, exhaustion settling in.

You close your eyes, hoping that sleep will offer some reprieve. As you lay there, the events of the night replay in your mind. The fear, the vulnerability, and the violation of your home weigh heavily on you. Slight sounds make you jump in fear, and all of a sudden you start to breath heavily. You can't be in here, not alone.

You stumble out of the room, practically falling into the hallway. The dim glow of the nightlight casts long shadows, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. Determined, you make your way to Simon's door and knock softly.

The door opens, and Simon appears, concern etched on his face. "Everythin' alright, love?"

You can barely form the words, your voice barely a whisper. "Can't stay in there alone."

Without hesitation, Simon opens the door wider, gesturing for you to enter. His room is dark, all lights off. You step inside his room, tugging your hoodie tighter around your body. You settle onto the edge of his bed, wrapping your arms around yourself as if to ward off the residual fear.

Simon shuts and locks the door behind him, plunging you both into darkness, save for the slight shine of the moon pouring through between a crack in his curtains.

Simon stands in front of you, looking down with a mix of empathy and concern in his eyes. "You're welcome to stay as long as you need. I don't mind."

"Thank you," you manage to say, the vulnerability in your voice more pronounced in the darkness of the room.

Simon hesitates for a moment before flicking on a small bedside lamp. The soft light casts a warm glow across the room, revealing a space that's both lived-in and comforting. You feel a bit more at ease.

He pulls a chair from his desk and sits across from you, leaving a respectful distance. The silence between you is filled with unspoken words, the weight of the night's events hanging in the air. Simon's gaze is unwavering, and you find solace in the fact that he understands what you need without the need for words.

As the minutes tick by, the atmosphere in the room becomes less tense. Simon breaks the silence, his voice a gentle murmur. "I don't want you to go through this alone. You deserve to feel safe, love."

You manage a weak smile, touched by his sincerity. "Thank you, Simon. You really don't have to be doing all of this for me--"

"Don't say that, I want to," he cuts you off gruffly, offended as if you would even suggest that you weren't worthy enough of his care.

His response hangs in the air, and you notice a flicker of something in Simon's eyes—a hint of frustration or something deeper. The unspoken tension lingers, causing you to shift slightly.

"I just... I don't want you to feel unsafe," Simon adds, his voice softer this time. He leans forward, resting his arms on his knees, his gaze fixed on yours. "Or alone. Fuckin' hell, if you hadn't been able to get out of there..."

He stops, jaw ticking as he thinks. He can't even say it.

The room feels charged with unspoken emotions, and you sense a vulnerability in Simon that mirrors your own.

"Simon," you say softly, your voice a gentle reassurance, "I feel safe with you."

"I've... 've cared about you for a long time, maybe more than I should," Simon admits, his words hanging in the air like a fragile confession.

The vulnerability in his admission tugs at your heart, and you find yourself pushing yourself up off the edge of the bed, cupping his face in your hands.

"I've cared about you too," you confess, the weight of the unspoken finally lifted.

He looks up, meeting your eyes with a mixture of relief and adoration. Simon's hand reaches up to grasp your wrist lightly, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of your hand, his eyes searching yours for confirmation.

"I never want you to feel unsafe or alone again. I can't stand the thought of somethin' happenin' t' you."

Your heart swells at the sincerity of his words, and you lean down, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

The conversation lulls, and for a moment, it's just the two of you in the sanctuary of Simon's bedroom. The emotional exhaustion begins to take its toll, and your eyes grow heavy.

He stands from his chair, grasping your upper arms gently, leading you towards his bed once again. Before he sits you down, he looks at you expectantly.

"Is this what you want?"

"Yes," you nod, "I've never wanted anything more."

With your permission, he lays you down on his bed, following you into the bed with a contained eagerness. He drags you up until you're settled on a pillow. Simon slides into the mattress right next to you, pulling the covers up and over the both of you. You turn on your side to face him, eyes searching his face just before he turns off the lamp, plunging you both into darkness.

Simon's hand brushes against your forearm, seeking permission yet again. You scoot over until you're flush against him, cheeks heating up at the proximity. You feel Simon's warm presence beside you, his hand finding its place on your waist before he pulls you up against him, cuddling you. Simon's fingers trace patterns on your back, a soothing motion that pulls you deeper into relaxation.

"Get some rest. I'll be right here if you need anything, love," Simon whispers, playing with the ends of your hair.

"Thank you," you whisper into the darkness, your voice barely audible but carrying a depth of gratitude.

He tightens his grip on your waist, a silent affirmation that he's here for you, that you're not alone. The warmth of his touch and the gentle rise and fall of his breath provide a sense of security that eases the lingering tension in your body.

. . . 

The morning light begins to seep through the curtains, casting a soft glow in Simon's room. As you slowly awaken, the events of the previous night come back to you in fragments. You turn slightly to find Simon still asleep beside you, his features softened by the morning light. His arm is draped protectively over you, and a sense of peace settles in the room. For a moment, you simply revel in the quiet stillness, savoring the moment.

As Simon begins to stir, his eyes meet yours, and a sleepy smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "Mornin’," he murmurs, his voice husky with sleep.

"Morning," you reply, a small smile playing on your lips. The air in the room feels different, more relaxed.

Simon props himself up on one elbow, his gaze searching yours. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than I thought I would," you admit, a genuine warmth in your voice. "Still kinda freaked out that people broke in to my apartment, but better."

He nods thoughtfully. "We should probably get up, check in with the police," Simon suggests, but there's a reluctance in his eyes to let go of the warmth of the bed.

You cuddle against him once more, hugging him tightly. His arm comes to wrap around your back, hand splayed across your skin.

"Yeah, we should," you say, pulling away gently as you push yourself out of bed.

"We're goin' together," he tells you. "And I will be installing a new security system in your apartment."

You manage a small smile. "I don't think you understand how much I appreciate you for this."

He sighs as he leads you to his small kitchen. "You never have to thank me for anything, love."

Before you can retort, he turns to you. "Let's get some breakfast in ya. How do you like your eggs?"

[gilverrwrites]

Skinny Dipping

Pairing: Dean WInchester/F!Reader

Authors note: This has the been the hardest, and biggest of my re-mastered fics so far. I’m pretty sure the original was an amalgamation of imagines from supernaturalimagine and dirtysupernaturalimagines but I couldn’t even guess at which imagines exactly. This is like, my 4th public/semi-public fic in like 3 months, I’m starting to feel like this is a kink I didn’t know I had.  Also, Metallica have not cancelled anything, don’t worry. (and I don’t know jack about cars, people that do, please don’t come for me, I really did try, k, thanks, bye.) 💖

Plot: Reader is a mechanic who Dean's been checking in on, and checking out for a while now. Dean has the perfect excuse to see her after baby breaks down nearby.

Rating: M/18+

Words: 2936

Content: Swearing, consumption of alcohol, reckless drunken/tipsy behaviour, being submerged underwater, skinny dipping, teasing, brief retraining, size-difference, dry-humping, (or I guess wet-humping), semi-public sex, unprotected sex, p in v, water sex, mild angst.

Please remember: If you never try, you’ll never know.

You switch off the radio, listening to the purr of your car's ignition as you pull up behind a familiar black impala. It was a beauty, but it was nothing compared to your ‘70 boss. You watched as its owner climbed out of the front seat and headed towards you.

Its owner being your old friend Dean Winchester. He and his brother had saved you from a coven of witches a few years back, and ever since he’s been popping back into your life every few months. ‘Working on a case nearby’, ‘just passing through’, ‘baby needs a new compressor’. Every visit he laid the flirting on thicker. You weren’t sure if he was just joking around with you, or if he was serious, or if he saw you as a challenge. Either way you’d been making him work for it. Today it just so happened that his car had broken down a few miles out from your shop, the perfect excuse to see you on a Friday night.

You were pulled from your train of thought by a light tapping on your window. You snapped your head to the side to see Dean hovering over your door. His familiar smile set your heart racing. Okay, so maybe his seduction tactics were working, he was hot, who could blame you?

“Is there a problem, officer?” You joked, rolling down your window.

Dean rested an arm on the hood and leaned in. “No, no, just a routine check.” You knew he impersonated officers and agents all the time, but you hadn’t seen it firsthand. It was impressive how easily he slid into character.

“I am, however, gonna have to ask you to step out of the vehicle for a full strip search.”

Act ruined.

“At least buy me drink first.” You quipped.

“If you can help me, I’ll buy you a whole dinner.” He winked and opened the car door from the outside. You raised your brows at him but climbed out anyway before making a b-line for the impala’s engine.

“What’s wrong?” You directed your question to the car in the same tone you would address a small child or animal, gently rubbing a hand across its roof as you walked beside it. "Has someone been neglecting you?”

“Hey!” Dean barked, clearly offended. “I take better care of this baby than I do myself.”

At that you looked back over at him. He’d forgone his usual flannel today, leaving him in a pair of jeans that hugged him in all the right places and a grey t-shirt that clung tight and accentuated his broad chest. By the time your eyes reached his face, Dean was sporting a wicked grin, clearly ecstatic to have caught you checking him out. You avoid his smug gaze by popping the hood of his car to take a look at the engine.

“You weren’t kidding.” You whistled; Dean really was taking care of the thing.  The motor was almost gleaming. You felt his warm hand suddenly press against your lower back and turn to look up at him. The expression on his face could only be described as that of a proud father.

“Yeah.” He agreed before pointing to the main battery with his free hand: “This is the problem. It’s busted.”

“Ah, you’re gonna need a new one. I’m surprised you don’t keep a spare.” 

“Yeah.” To his credit, he looked pretty sheepish. “I normally do, but guess I forgot when the last one went out.”

“I don’t have one.” You said, pursing your lips to express your sympathies.

Dean didn’t respond, biting his lip while he waited for you to continue.

“But I could give you a jump start if you gotta head out soon.” You bring the hood back down and start heading to the boot of your car.

“No good,” Dean calls after you. “I’m not in a rush, but I don’t have enough gas to get me where I’m going.”

“Well… I’ve got a guy. He’s a few towns over. He’s closed at this time.” You inform as you open your boot and pull out your tow rope, flashing it to Dean with a smile. I can tow you into town for tonight, then drive you there and back in the morning.”

“I knew I could count on you!”

An hour later, you’d slowly but surely managed to drag Dean and his baby back into town, argued with him about him staying at a motel or on your couch (you’d won), and successfully swindled him into buying you that dinner he’d promised. Dinner being take-put pizza and over-priced ice-cream. Now, the two of you were sitting in your backyard, sharing the aforementioned ice-cream and an old bottle of Jack Daniels you’d pulled from the back of your cupboards. 

“So,” Dean began, his speech slurred by the spoon hanging from his mouth. How’s the garage doin’?”

You take a sip of the JD and proceed to suck on your teeth as you consider how to respond.

“Honestly, bad. Ever since that shitty corporate place set up shop down the road, we’ve been going downhill.” You punctuate your statement with another sip from the bottle before offering it to Dean. “I’m keeping it up and running by tooth and claw, but truthfully, it’s probably only got a few months left in it.” 

He gives you a sombre smile as he exchanges the tub of ice cream for the bottle. It's a touchy subject, but you can’t help admiring the way his neck moves as he tilts his head back to drink. You avert your eyes by scooping up the last bit of cold, sugary goodness and placing the empty container on the grass beside you.

“That sucks.” He places a hand on your shoulder, attempting to offer comfort. “That really sucks. Do you have a back-up plan?”

You grab the bottle back from Dean and take another sip before answering.

“I dunno. Sometimes I think about doing what you do. Kinda.” You begin. You don’t miss the way his entire body stiffens before you clarify. “Without the monsters. Just hit the road, get drunk at every bar in the country, visit Disney, become Metallica groupie, an-”

“You know they cancelled that tour, right?” Dean butts in.

“WHAT?” You shake his hand off and stare up at him in disbelief.

“Yeah.” He shrugs. The smile on his face is anything but sympathetic.

“Bastards.” You cross your arms and pout dramatically. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but the laugh that escapes Dean's lips is magical, and you can’t help but join in. When he returns his hand to your shoulder, this time reaching for the furthest from him, thus wrapping himself around you, your skin tingles, and you let yourself fall into him.

As the two of you slowly seize your giggling, Dean checks his watch. He quirks an evocative brow at you when he speaks, “It’s getting late. Maybe we should head inside?”

You mull it over, dramatically swaying your head from side to side before you voice your decision. “Actually, I have a better idea.”

You stand up, offering your hand to Dean, who eyes you sceptically. Nevertheless, he takes the bait, placing his hand in yours and allowing you to lead him toward the footpath just outside your garden.

“Where are you taking me?” he asks, and you can sense the caution in his voice. You assume it’s the hunter in him being paranoid, and you know for a fact that his free hand is hovering over the knife he keeps tucked into the back of his jeans at all times.

“I’m taking you here,” you answer as you pull him through the last set of trees and onto the shore of the local lake. You scan the surrounding area as you kick off your shoes. Satisfied that nobody is nearby, you start pulling off your trousers.

As you bend down to pull your socks off, you look up at Dean. He’s staring back at you intensely, mouth open, cheeks pink.

When you start pulling your top over your head you feel his fingers lightly brush against your hips. He’d stepped closer, and you’re tempted to touch him back or to reach up and kiss him. But you don’t. Instead, you throw your top over his head and sprint for the water.

“RACE YOU!” You challenge, discarding your bra and panties before you reach the water and forward dive in. Dean follows you moments later with a cannonball that splashes your face just as you’re resurfacing from your own dive.

“Fuck! That’s colder than I expected.” You yell to him.

“I’ll warm you up.” Dean replies as he swims close to you. You let his hands return to your hips, not expecting it when he dunks you back under the water.

You cough and splurge as he brings you back up. You flail your arms around until you find the top of his head, and you cling to him for dear life, but Deans is stronger, taller, and he’s found solid ground to plant his feet onto below the water. He escapes your grip and throws you under again.

“STOP. MERCY!” You yell when you come back up. This time, you use your legs for safety, wrapping them around his hips. You'd be safe if you could just get a grip on his arms. You’d been too distracted to notice his erection until you feel it poking at you. You’re about to make a comment about it, but Dean speaks first.

“You’re cute when you’re scared.” He laughs, you silence him with a swift but playful punch to the chest. In defence he grabs at your wrists, able to trap both in just one of his hands. His other hand slides up your arms, over your shoulder, your neck, until he reaches your cheek. He leisurely rubs his thumb against your wet skin.

You stay like that for a while, watching each other, before you finally ask, “Are you gonna kiss me or what?”

Without any further hesitation Dean lunges forward, forcing his lips against yours. His kiss is hard and animalistic; he skips straight past the pecking and teasing to roaming your mouth with his tongue. His fingers leave your cheek and weave into your hair, holding you against him, his stubble scratches against your skin.

In a play for dominance, you dart your own tongue out, grazing his chapped lips, but he denies you. Instead, he pulls away from your lips, refocusing his attention on nipping and kissing at your jaw, neck, and collarbone.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been imagining this.” He utters onto your skin.

“What, this exact scenario?” You joke.

“Not exactly.” He lets out a breathy chuckle, and the gust of air against your skin makes you tremble.

“Then what?” You challenge. Your inability to touch him is frustrating you. In an attempt to stimulate him back, you grip your legs around him tighter, using him as leverage to grind against him. The tip of his cock doesn’t quite reach your clit, but its added pressure helps it spread your lips. “Tell me.”

He drops his hand from your head, and cups it under your asscheek. Firmly guiding you up and down, assisting you in rutting against his cock. Shakey breaths become grunts, and after a few seconds he releases your wrists so that he can grip you with both hands. Free to move, you shimmy down his body until you can feel his dick brush against your clit with each grind.

“Come on, tell me.” You plead, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair, your grip tightening every time he hits your sweet spot. You know he's not shy, that he’s just getting lost in the feeling, and it pains you to say it, but eventually, you taunt. “I’m not gonna fuck you if you don’t tell me.”

He whimpers at your empty threat but finally confesses. “Just you. Your body, under me. Every night, I think about how you’d look, how you’d feel squirming, moaning my name.”

“Fuck. That’s hot.” You reply and he smiles as you plant your lips against his once again.

“Can I fuck you now?” He asks, speech slurred as he tries to speak between kisses.

“Yes.” You respond instantly, pulling back to look him in the eye. “Please fuck me, Dean.”

He doesn’t hesitate. His grip on your ass is like a vice as he lifts you up slightly. You both work in sync to position yourselves just right until he lowers you onto his cock, slowly pressing into you. There’s some resistance as he stretches your walls, but the sound of his whispered praises helps you relax until he finally bottoms out, stretching you in all the right places.

“Fuck, that feels so good. You took me so well.” He affirms, and even though he’s already balls deep, you can’t help the heat that spreads across your face.

He begins lifting you again before you can respond, sliding you up and down his cock in slow, steady movements. You grip tight to his shoulders and hips with your hands and knees, using them as leverage points to help move your body up and down. Each thrush is slow and shallow, but Dean seems to be loving it; his head rolls back, and he releases breathy moans with every rock.

“Shit.” You shout, holding tighter still when Dean unexpectedly shifts below you, repositioning his legs to a sturdier position. You watch through hazy eyes as he reaches up and grips your hand, before guiding it down the tight space between your bodies. You get the message quickly, and begin rubbing your clit in lazy circles, keeping in time with the pace of Dean's cock.

The added stimulation had your toes curling in no time. When your pussy starts clenching around Dean’s cock, you see the sudden concentration in his face. His brow furrows, and he bites his lip as he focuses on riding you through your orgasm. The sight was the final push you need to take you over the edge.

“Fuck, Dean. Fuck fuck fuck, that feels good.” You cry out as you hit your climax.

“Keep saying my name, baby.” Dean begs as he continues rolling your hips together. You feel his body shake as he starts to struggle with your combined weights as he chases his own release.

You try to assist, desperately pumping yourself up and down despite the newfound sensitivity as you chant his name.

“Fuck, yes baby.” You feel the twitch of his cock inside you. He buries his head in the crook of your neck as he hits his orgasm, rutting his cock as deep as he can as he cums inside you. “oohhh yeah.”

You stay in position for a long time following, holding on tight to each other, listening to each other's breathing as you come back down, until Dean guides your body backwards so that you’re face to face again. “How you feelin’?”

“Good.” You reply with a smile.

“Good.” He grins at you mischievously before plunging backwards into the water, taking you with him.

“So, was that everything you imagined it to be?”

He purses his lips in thought before teasingly responding. “Eh, it wasn’t bad.”

You both laugh as you lay your head down on Dean's bare chest; his arms envelop your body as you both blankly look up at the stars. You play with the hem of the shirt you’d stolen from him when you emerged from the water and re-dressed.

“You should do it.” Dean says when you're both fully settled down.

“Do what?” You query, popping your head up to look at him, unsure what he’s talking about.

“Hit the road.” He clarifies, revisiting your earlier conversation. “I mean, life on the road isn’t easy or sustainable, trust me, I know.”

“But…” You prompt, knowing fully that he wasn’t going to stop there.

“But it could be fun for a while. If it’s what you wanna do. Hell, I’d totally be a roadie if… you know.”

“I know,” You reply. You’re smiling at him, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. The reminder of your failing business stung, but you didn’t want it to spoil your night. You lean forward, caressing his cheek; his stubble feels rough against your fingers. You gently pull his face forward and plant a chaste kiss on his lips. “I might. I probably will. If it comes to it.”

“I can’t come with you.” He says when you lean away. You hadn’t expected him to want to come with you. Hoped, maybe? But you knew it wasn’t a possibility.

“I know.” You repeat.

He carefully reaches up to run his hand across your damp hair as he pulls you in for another kiss. This one is longer, softer than any you’d shared all night. When you’re done, he lets his head fall back against the ground, and you perch yourself against his chest once more. 

“You’ll still call me though, right?”

“Always.” He replies instantly. “You’re my best girl. Well, second-best girl.”

“The car?” You ask deadpan. Of course, the car is his number one.

“Who else?” He replies shamelessly.

You’re not sure how long you stayed like that, entwined in each other’s arms, spent and damp under the stars, until eventually, you feel your lids growing heavy. You fight it for a while, willing yourself to remain awake, until eventually your tiredness wins out. You cuddle closer into the warmth of Dean's chest as you fall asleep.

[lighteyed]

it's no big surprise you turned out this way

steve harrington x fem mayfield!reader

[3.7k] steve comes over for family dinner. it is absolutely not your idea.

disclaimer- no mention of blood relation to max, no physical descriptors of reader, they are sisters in any way you want them to be. trigger warning for shitty parents and billy h*rgrove. this is not a billy safe space.

dividers by @saradika-graphics and @cafekitsune

thanks for reading if you do <3 enjoy teehee

You drop a kiss on Steve’s head in greeting, which he accepts with a thrilled, in-a-new-relationship, glowing smile, before dropping down beside him and subsequently dropping your news, or rather, your request that’s not really your request, on him. “Neil wants you to come over for dinner.” You tense at the utterance of your stepfather’s name, even if it’s your own mouth doing the uttering.

   His smile dissipates. Only a little, but enough for you to wring your hands together. You want to scoop all the words you’d just said back out from his ears and spoon them into your mouth again. Make him forget it’d ever happened. “Like, like family dinner?” He asks. He can’t fathom a world where he sits placid across the table from Billy Hargrove and passes him the salt respectably and doesn’t end the night with his fist colliding with his face (regardless of the outcome).

   “No, it’d just be you and him, he’s dying to take you out on a date,” you deadpan in response, shaking your head. Steve rolls his eyes, no malice intended. “Obviously family dinner, Steve. You, me, Max, my mom, Neil… Billy.” You force out the final name. He swears he hears your teeth grinding as you say it.

   “Don’t get grouchy on me.” He reaches over and smooths out the upset crease between your brows. Your shoulders relax in response. You’re always so wound up he’s made it his mission to give you that ease he knows you crave. He’s quite good at it, on days where he can steal you away and keep your mind occupied with the lovelier things in life. But there are some things he can’t spare you from, as much as he tries.

   Really, he can only keep you out of that house for so long before your family starts demanding their 17-year-old back.

   For the most part you keep away. Max roams the new mall all day with her friends now that June’s here and summer’s entered Hawkins in full swing, and you drive them there with your mom’s car if she doesn’t need it for the day, or Steve drives you all there and then home again if he’s not at work already that morning. If he has work you loiter in Scoops the entire day, lugging a stack of books acquired from the library and settling in a corner booth, popping your head up once in awhile to check on him and his misery in his new position in that ridiculous uniform. You brighten his days just as much as he brightens yours. And he really, really does. (And you like the uniform, as silly as it is, for the record).

   “’M not grumpy,” you deflate, pressing your forehead into his shoulder. He rubs your back in a nice, soothing way when you lean into him. Ever since he asked you out he’s been taking every excuse to touch you and you’re not complaining in the slightest. He has the softest hands you’ve ever held and they’re perpetually gentle and kind. All the love in the world encased in the hands of some boy from Hawkins, Indiana, a place you never expected to find a home in, let alone find a boy. The boy, if you thought about it long enough. Early days to be thinking about it but you did think about it. Often. For hours. You sigh quietly. “I can tell ‘em you’re busy, you don’t have to come.”  

   “Max knows I’m not busy,” he points out.

   “She doesn’t wanna be there, either. Look, I’ll just say you can’t come-“

   “But I can.”

    You lift back up, wary, but hopeful. A new flower poking its petals up from the earth, tilting right toward the sun.  “I don’t wanna make you miserable.”

   “That’s stupid,” he scoffs. He kisses your head this time, the perfumy scent of your shampoo fogging his brain up in a nice, lovey haze. “How could you make me miserable? You’re like, the best thing I’ve ever had, by a mile.”

   You smile in spite of your gloomy mood. “The fuckin’ Hargroves have an innate knack for misery.”

    “It’s a good thing you’re not a Hargrove then, hm, Mayfield?” He brushes your hair away from your face and  takes your chin in his hand, angling your face up properly to meet his, and he kisses you like he well and truly means it, firm and adoring. You can feel his grin seared into your mouth when you pull away, in spite of your reluctance and Steve’s attempts to pull you back in.

   . “You really wanna come? It won’t be fun. It’ll probably be shitty, actually.” You ask him in a tiny, hesitant voice, too overcompensating to someone who do anything you asked of him. Having Steve there sounds better than not having him there, and better than having to explain why he’s chosen not to come, but you know it’ll be weird. Worse than weird. After what happened back in November, him and Billy go out of their way to ignore one another, and it’s so deliberate it sucks the air out of a room. And even with that, Billy still makes it a point to direct snide remarks to you about Steve every chance he gets: alone, in front of Max, in front of your parents, in front of Steve himself while pretending he’s not there. And it’s gotten worse since you admitted to your mother in confidence that you and Steve were together now, and she told Neil, and Neil told Billy. But there’s no running from being at the same dinner table as him. You know you’re asking a lot. You wouldn’t be asking if Neil hadn’t insisted. In a loud, pointed voice, with a stare that unnerved you. You’d agreed to it hurriedly after that.

   “Well,” Steve leans back, playful, “want to is a bit of a stretch but I can make an exception for ya-“

   “Steve-“ you groan, pushing his chest, but he laughs, pushing himself back forward, smacking another loud kiss on your mouth.

   “Kidding, I’m kidding, c’mere,” his fingers grip your waist feather-light, tickling, as he laughs, and you can’t help but laugh too through your head shakes and faux-exasperated sighs.

  “I’m really asking you if you want to, I know it’s a lot asking you to make nice with Billy.” You interlace your fingers with his and he places them on your lap, all big brown eyes blinking up at you affectionately. You’re a sucker for his eyes. You can tell what he’s going to say before he says it.

   “Nothin’s too much for you,” he says in his sweet, low voice, another kiss pressed to your cheek, his stamp of agreeance left blazing there on your cheek.

   Late into the next day he arrives on 4819 Cherry Lane, as he has so many times before, but he parks right in front and gets out this time. He doesn’t sit by the wheel waiting for you to come running out, sometimes with Max in toe, usually by yourself, breathless and beaming, ready for him to whisk you away as fast as he can without breaking a million laws. He knows it’s not the gentlemanly thing to do, having a girl come to the car by herself instead of going up and ringing her bell, and normally he would, but you insisted he didn’t, not wanting to draw attention to yourself or him, and you were already waiting outside on the front steps when he got there most of the time, anyway.

   And this time, too, you get the door before he can ring the bell, almost ripping it off the hinges when you throw it open to greet him.

   “Thank God,” you mutter. You go to take his hand but remembers yours is sweaty and pull back. The sweater you’re wearing is pretty, complements your eyes and complexion and your everything, and your hair is down and soft-looking. He’d run his hands through it in other circumstances. “It’s not too late to make a break for it,” you lead him into the house quietly, throwing your head back and casting a dark look down the hallway. “Just say the words and we can flee, I won’t blame you.” He’s dressed so nicely, and you don’t even have the time to properly admire him. He did his hair all perfect (he always does but you can tell he put a little extra sparkle into it tonight), he’s in his nicest jeans that mold against his legs slim and fit, his sweater is a navy blue and it’s such a good color on him you might cry. You can see effort written in everything he does, tonight especially. His desire to make a good impression rings in your heart. You want to regard him warmly and turn your gaze on him with the utmost veneration but your skin buzzes with anxiety and it feels like one large, domineering fist is clamped around your intestines. 

   “It’ll be fine,” he says, squeezing your hand. He doesn’t even notice that it’s sweaty, though your anxiety is palpable and he amps up his happy exterior to balance you out. He’s probably just as nervous as you are, deep down. “Parents love me.” It’s an insistent sentence. “And I’m gonna turn on my charm.” He makes a clicking sound with his mouth and snaps his fingers around a little. You stare at him, blank. Neil is rumbling around somewhere in the distance and for the time being you are utterly immune to Steve’s banter.

   Not completely, but enough. “I don’t know if that’s the kinda charm we need here,” you pat his shoulder.

   “But it can’t hurt,” he points out with a raised eyebrow, pointing a finger gun at you.

   “Oh, it can hurt alright.” You steer him into the living room anyway. “Steve is here.”

   You announce it to the open air, waiting to see who comes when you call. Your mom, immediately, rushes out of the kitchen to greet him. She’s never met one of your boyfriends before. Her greeting is enthusiastic, to say the least. And she’s a hugger. It’s nice, actually, Steve thinks, no matter how embarrassed and nervous you are, to be embraced kindly by a mother. It’s familiar, like some distant dream from a faraway past. You have your qualms with Susan, he knows that, but he knows you love her hard, and that’s why you take so much issue with the way she lets herself be treated. It’s difficult to watch you grapple with all of this, all of the time.

  “It’s so nice to meet you, Steve, or Steven? Whatever you want,” she rubs his back as she takes him into the kitchen alongside you.

   “Steve is great, thank you, Mrs. May-“ he clears his throat, “Mrs. Hargrove, I mean.“ It’s hard to reconcile this woman in front of him with the domineering men bearing that same last name. It’s hard to distinguish her as anything but another piece of you and Max. A good piece.

   “The girls talk about you all the time,” Susan says, still smiling.

   “I do not,” Max huffs as she comes out of her room, abashed. She’s in a nice outfit, too. Not as dressed down as she usually is. She tugs at her tied back hair like it hurts.

   “Ma, how tight did you do her hair?” You ask, beckoning Max over.

   “It pops out of every scrunchie!” Susan says, patting her on the head with such clear affection it makes Steve ache a little.

   “Maxie.” You open your arms for her. She stands in front of you obediently as you loosen the hold her hair ties have on her unruly locks, smoothing them out nicely as you tie it back up again, looser.

    Everything’s so nice and homey that the shift in the atmosphere is almost imperceptible when a door creaks open a bit away from you four. But it’s there. He sees you draw back into yourself, your smile, at him talking to your mom and being so sweet, at Max, at the normalcy of this moment, sliding right off your face as Neil walks into the room. You’d almost forgotten him. You could’ve stayed in a bubble with your mom and sister and beautiful boyfriend forever. But Neil comes out from the hallway, from Billy’s bedroom, and Billy follows behind, fully clothed for once, his shirt buttoned all the way up his chest, his expression dark and cloudy. His jaw is tight as his gaze fixes on Steve.

   But Steve, so gracious, sticks his hand out to shake Neil’s, smiling like Neil’s spawn isn’t the worst person Steve’s ever encountered as he introduces himself. “Nice to meet you, sir. Steve Harrington.” He keeps his mouth upturned sweet and polite even when Billy snorts in the background. He doesn’t even look in his direction.

    “Nice to meet you, too, Steven.” Neil’s handshake is more like a clenched fist. You stare at their clasped hands like you want to commit murder. Steven.

   “Steve, not Steven,” you mutter. Max touches your arm in warning before Steve can. You can’t help it. If there’s anyone you’re defensive over besides her, it’s him.

   “Steven’s fine,” he chimes in, keeping that same old good-natured Steve smile on his face. He’s too appeasing and Neil has never deserved it. He rolls his shoulders back and talks to himself in his head. Just one night. For her, for her, for her.

  “It’s the name your parents gave you, of course it’s fine,” Neil claps him on the back, and you know he doesn’t mean anything by it but you and Steve both flinch. From the words and the tap alike. Neil ignores your remark completely as he continues to talk to Steve in a way that makes your skin crawl. He brings Steve over to the dining room table and the rest of you follow suit, settling in around each other. You make sure you sit next to Steve, but you second-guess it when Billy takes the straight across from him. Neil drones on. “Y’know, it’s interesting how all this time, you’ve been driving the girls around for months now, but this is the first time we’re meeting.”

    Steve checks on you out of the corner of his eye. Your jaw ticks. He squeezes your knee but before he can answer, you do it for him. “He’s been busy, that’s all.”

Neil looks toward you. For once. It is not a pleasant look. “For months?” He tucks his hands under his chin.

   “I know you don’t like having strangers in the house after you work,” you say, placating in a way that turns your stomach.

   “That’s true,” Neil says. “Billy doesn’t seem to get the memo on that, so I’m glad someone in this house is paying attention.” The degradation of Billy at the dinner table is nothing new. And you feel bad about it. You’d feel worse if he wasn’t so nasty and hateful to everyone because of it. Neil had run into Billy’s latest flavor, Miranda Brady from your Calculus class, while she was rummaging through the fridge the other night, and he hadn’t been happy. He was polite to her until she’d been hurried out the door by Billy, and then he’d reamed into him in colorful, awful ways. Max and Susan both hadn’t been home, but it was one of those nights where you had been, and you’d lingered by your bedroom door awkwardly, making sure it didn’t get too out of hand. You weren’t sure either of them even knew you were there. Accepting the praise seems wrong. You nod stiffly.

  Billy, however, turns his gaze on Steve, the first acknowledgement he’s gotten in months. “Say, Harrington, you used to be quite the ladies’ man yourself, yeah?” A sick grin creeps up on his face. Steve sees your hand tighten around your fork. You’ve barely shoveled your pasta into your mouth. Max gapes at her stepbrother, her mouth still full of food.

   Steve clears his throat. “I had a steady girlfriend for about a year, actually. I’m sure you remember that.”

   “Yeah, but I mean,” Billy rocks his chair back. “That’s not what they were calling you King Steve for, is it?”

   You lurch forward. Steve drops his hand over your knee again. “I think it was because of the whole captain of the basketball team thing. Or the captain of the swim team thing, I can’t remember when it started. Youngest captain the Tigers had seen in a decade, actually, when I got it sophomore year.” Steve grins again and the cocky charm he possesses but hardly uses much anymore comes out to play, just for a bit. You settle down again. You eat what’s in front of you, calmly. You hear Max gulp down her own food across the table. It’s almost cartoonish.

  “Max, chew first,” Susan admonishes gently.

   “I am,” she retorts, but she’s inhaling everything in front of her.

    Billy  cuts in. “See, that’s interesting, I thought it was because you hooked up with a lot of girls. Like half the class.”

   Steve doesn’t even blink. He takes a sip of his water. “I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

  “Are you trying to upset your sister?” Neil asks him with raised eyebrows.

  He goes quiet again, hardened. “No.”

  “It seems like you’re trying to.”

   His jaw ticks this time. “I’m not.”

   “Do you remember what I said to you? About a half hour ago?”

   His jaw ticks again. His eyes meet Steve’s over the table. Steve feels the merest twitch of embarrassment for him. He knows all too well what it’s like to have a dad who takes a weird sort of pleasure in berating his son. “Yes, I remember.”

   You stare down at your plate, pinching the skin of your palm.

   “If you remember so well, then you should stop talking.”

   Billy stops talking. Neil turns to Steve again. “So, captain of two athletic teams, that’s impressive. I’m sure your college plans are impressive as well.”

   Steve stutters in his answer and you hold your head aloft in your hands, suppressing a groan. Max finishes her food so fast, she’s excused from the table and gone within minutes of that conversation starting. You nearly fall out of your chair in your attempt to kick her shin under the table. She holds her hands up in her retreat while nobody’s looking, mouthing that she’s sorry at you and running away into your shared bedroom. You suppress a groan again.

   Outside, after another grueling hour of Neil dominating the conversation and making dinner unenjoyable for everyone, you walk Steve to his car, fiddling with your hands again. He props himself up against his window and wrestles you out of the knot you’re in.

  “That sucked, I’m sorry,” you say, knocking your foreheads together, your mouth drawn in a thin, perturbed line.

  “It was fine, you’re fine,” he whispers the last bit. That’s what you’re more worried about, after all. You’re worried he’s mad, planning to leave you for someone with a more normal family, people who are warmer, someone capable of being warmer. You’re plenty warm around him, but you suppose you could be better. You start running over all the things you could do better and all the ways he could do better in your head. “Stop thinkin’ so much. Everything’s okay.” He nudges your foot with his.

   “No, I know, it’s just, it’s awkward, it’s not fun, shitty way to spend your night, shitty way for anyone to spend a night.”

   “It’s okay. It was good. I was good, wasn’t I?” He kisses your palm where you’d pinched it earlier.

   “You were great, you’re always great.” You stroke his cheek, lingering on his lips for a second. “You look really nice, by the way.” You’d almost forgotten to tell him. “I like this color on you.” You smooth over and down his arms.

   “Yeah?” He grins, lopsided, tilting his head.

   “Looks good with your hair.” You reach up to tug on the strand that hangs down like an art form over his forehead. You’re the only one he lets play around about his hair.

   “You look beautiful, too, for the record.”

   “I was trying to make this about you.” You poke him.

   “I like when things are about you.” He pokes you back.

   “I hate when things are about me.”

   “Yeah, I’m trying to fix that.”

   You chuckle. “Good luck.”

   He gestures back to your house. “I’m makin’ progress here. I think I get you a little bit better now, after all that.”

  “And what exactly do you get?” You wrap your arms around his waist.

  “Why you’re always so tense and grumpy.” He cups your cheeks like he’s holding the most delicate thing ever to be held.

   “I’m not grumpy-“

   “Just tense, then.”

   You accept that, begrudgingly. “I’m pretty on edge most of the time, I guess.”

   “I try to talk you out of it,” he says softly, stroking your face.

   “You’re the best, I hope you know that.”

   “I try,” he says again, and you nod. “It’s not easy. Night after night.”

   “It’s not.” You bunch up his sweater.

   “I get it, you know? They’re not here as often as yours, but I get it.”

   “Dinner with yours next time?”  

   “Yeah fucking right.” He kisses you for it, though, because you mean it, you’d have dinner with them if he asked just like he did because you asked, a long and languid kiss that he hopes no one’s shifting around the curtains to be privy to. He withdraws first and says, “Your mom is sweet, I’d have dinner with her again.”

  “I’ll let you know when she’s free, take her out, show her a good time,” you tease.

    “If she’s anything like you I’m a goner,” he laments.

    “You’re a flirt, is what you are.”

     You kiss him again, beaming, heart swollen with affection.

    When you go back inside and Susan tells you how wonderful and handsome she thought Steve was, how good he seemed for you, that rush flows through you all over again. You even bring her in for a hug.

thank u for reading ur super hot n sexy n we're kissing rn

[seat-safety-switch]

Night vision is a growing worry among motorists. It seems like new cars have ever-more-powerful headlights, which ruin your ability to see anything other than a retina-scarring cone of light. And that’s if you’re the one driving the new car. If you’re like me, and operate a rickety old car whose headlights are most generously described as “present,” you can easily be blinded by every asshole on the road who can fork over a down payment.

Worst of all, there’s no way to get back at them. Until now.

A couple years ago, I was introduced to a guy who was really into headlights. Making sure they had good bulbs, clear lenses, cutoffs, properly aligned, all that important stuff that nobody does. The thing he wanted to express to me most about my car, of course, is that it had shitty wiring feeding the headlights. When the headlights turn on, they’re limited by how much juice they can pull through that shitty wiring. He recommended that I get thicker, beefier wiring, like the kind you’d use to run a welder, or accidentally electrify your neighbour’s fence when you’re sick of him playing party rock at 4am.

At the time, the price of copper was pretty high, so I never took the opportunity to follow his advice. After getting an impromptu suntan on my drive back from work the other day, I now see the error of my ways. A quick visit to a nearby electrical substation equipped me with some exceptionally thick wire, and a bit of hammering and crimping got me the rest of the way. And of course the stock headlights wouldn’t do much: a subsequent quick visit to the airport filled the trunk of my car with some of those sodium bulbs that they use to warn airplanes not to crash into the airport. Perfect, I thought, and went along my merry way.

I didn’t have to wait long until a RAV4 bumbled into my path, shining its misaimed lights directly into my soul. Now, at last, the moment of my revenge was at hand. Also at hand: the high-beam switch. The exact memory of what happened next is a bit jumbled, but I’m pretty sure that the antagonistic Toyota was erased from existence only femtoseconds before my battery caught fire and exploded. Scientists are still confused about how, even long after my car has left the area, there remains a cone of perfectly lit road at all hours of the day, hovering ominously.

[mangosrar]

call it what you want part9

matt sturniolo x fem reader.

MY TAGLIST STILL ISNT WORKING 🫠🫠🫠

6 days. it has been 6 days since you had spoken to matt. he had turned up at your house on monday morning to take you to school. but you had decided on sunday night you weren’t going. you couldn’t face him. you didn’t want to.

he showed up again tuesday. and when you didn’t even tell him to leave, he knocked on your door to be met with nothing. he stood out there for a whole 17 minutes before accepting defeat and leaving.

wednesday, the same story. he showed up, you didn’t come out. he knocked. no answer. he left.

thursday he even went as far as knocking, getting no answer and then sitting outside, repeatedly pressing the horn for almost 4 minutes straight, and then eventually giving up.

but when friday rolled around, matt sent an alliance to your door.

“y/n. it’s me open up” you heard him say. his voice was muffled from the thick wooden barrier between you both.

you stood staring at the door, contemplating wether to open it or not, like you had every day this week. you knew matt would turn up but this wasn’t his fault. he didn’t deserve to be shut out because of his piece of shit brother.

you sighed before reluctantly opening the door, coming face to face with the one person who knows you best. chris sturniolo.

“oh y/n” he breathed, frowning at your state as he stepped inside.

your hair was a mess, and dark circles donned your eyes. your face was pale, like you were sick.

“how you feeling?” he questioned looking down at you. it was a really stupid question. he could tell you were doing terribly just by looking at you, but he would never admit that out loud.

you just shrugged and looked down at your feet. chewing on your lip. there was no way to even put into words how you’ve been feeling. so for a lack of a better term, fucking horrible.

“i don’t know exactly what happened… but matts doing terrible too” he stated.

“i bet he is chris” you replied sarcastically. rolling your eyes.

“he’s been asking about you every day, he even tried talking to caden at school. he’s a mess y/n” chris sighed. looking at you with pleading eyes.

“you can go back to hating him, but i think you should just talk to eachother, it would be a waste for things to end like this” he told you.

there was an internal battle going on inside your head. part of you was a little warm inside over the fact he was worried and asking after you, the other part was enraged over the fact he had the audacity to be upset over his own actions. he deserved to dwell in your absence. why should you forgive him. he had hurt you and he had to live with that.

chris stood there, watching the cogs turn in your head. he knew you were stubborn, but he also knew his brother was 10 times more stubborn, so the fact that he was willing to admit he was wrong and do everything in his power to get you to listen, was shocking.

“is he outside?” pointless question. you knew he was.

chris nodded, standing infront of you with his arms by his sides.

you took in a breath before muttering.

“give me 15 minutes”.

-

the whole car ride was uncomfortable. chris had forced you into the passenger seat and it made you want to grab the wheel and run the car off the road, but you decided against it.

luckily for you, matt had used his common sense. he look one look at you and kept his mouth shut, just offering a small smile to witch you did not return.

he didn’t deserve it. he did not deserve the satisfaction of thinking there was any chance you were ever going to forgive him. because as far as you were aware, you weren’t going to.

up until 2 weeks ago you and matt couldn’t stand the sight of each other, so after 14 days of slightly less hatred, going back to your old ways wouldn’t harm anyone.

“i’m gonna give you two time to talk” chris muttered, opening the car door and stepping out.

you hadn’t even realised you had arrived at school. the whole way there you had been aimlessly gorming out the window, trying to stop yourself from screaming.

you wanted to get out of the car and sprint in the opposite direction. there was no way matt could justify himself, but you at least wanted to hear whatever sorry excuse he would come up with, so you stayed put.

there was an abundant pause, the both of you just sitting there. you couldn’t even look at him out of fear you might just slap him across the face there and then, but you could feel matts eyes burning into the side of your head as you stared out of the front window with your arms crossed.

matt turned his body towards you, opening his mouth to speak, but the words got caught in his throat, he didn’t even know what he would say. he sighed before dropping his head.

“i’m sorry” he mumbled.

his eyes wandered back up to your face, and when you didn’t even flinch, he continued.

“there’s no excuse for what i said. it was so fucked up. and i don’t think what i said is true y/n. i don’t think you’re damaged and i don’t think you’re weak. i was just something i said out of anger, but that isn’t an excuse. angry or not i shouldn’t have said it” he stated softly. like the distinct tone of his voice would determine how this was going to go.

“i showed up every day this week trying to get you out of the house y/n, does that not show you how sorry i am?” he added.

“oh so you showing up, and banging on my door for 15 minutes every morning makes it okay?” you spat at him. still not looking at his face.

“no, no of course not but… i’m trying y/n, i’m really trying” he sighed.

you just shook your head, keeping your eyes trained forward.

matt swallowed, eyes darting across the side of your face, frantically trying to read your mind.

“if i could go back in time and change what i said i promise i would” he whispered, leaning over the centre console slightly.

he didn’t know why he was beating himself up so much. he’s said stuff like this before with out even batting an eyelid, so why now?

his heartbeat quickened when you slowly craned your neck to face him.

there was a blank look spread across your features that he couldn’t place.

you took in a breath, and blinked at him, pursing your lips before speaking.

“go fuck your self” and with that you were shoving the car door open and getting out.

you could hear him calling after you but you didn’t care. you continued marching across the parking lot towards the school doors. leaving him there once again to wallow in the knowledge that he had hurt you to an extent that was fucking unforgivable.

-

“nope. not happening” chris said.

“why chris? this is a good way for me to stay calm” you whined.

“turning to drugs and getting high is a bad way to deal with your emotions y/n” he tutted.

“you do it. so what you’re saying is that you are bad at dealing with your emotions?” you quirked. coming to a stop when chris got to his locker.

“deflecting is not gonna get you what you want” he spoke, looking at you briefly with a flat expression before turning back to his locker.

“ughhh, look, i’m dealing with my emotions. i’m sad and i’m angry at your brother. i know how i feel. i just wanna smoke so i can take the edge off” you said shrugging.

he shook his head slowly, pressing his lips into a thin line, standing his ground.

“come on chris” you whispered, looking up at him with big round eyes.

he sighed before closing his locker and turning to you.

“i’ll let you smoke under one condition” he stated.

you nodded your head excitedly and grinned waiting for him to continue.

“you have to come to that party on sunset” he smiled sarcastically.

you hated parties and chris knew that, so if he asked you to go, he knew you would refuse, and that would be his get out of jail free card as to not let you get high.

he blinked at you with a smirk on his face, because in his head neither of you were gonna get what you wanted.

“okay” you shrugged.

“‘okay’?” he exclaimed, “you’ll go?”

“yeah why not, maybe i’ll find another dark tattood, handsome man to sweep me off my feet” you wiggled your eyebrows at him.

“so what you’re saying is that you think matt is handsome and he swept you off your feet?” he giggled, wiggling his eyebrows back.

your face dropped and you swatted his arm, trying to hide your smile, he just dodged you, carrying on laughing as he walked down the hall with you trailing behind.

-

“ok but if i wear the black one the shoes won’t match” you ranted holding the shirt up to your chest in the mirror.

this had been going on for about an hour. nick ans chris had been sat on your bed, waiting for you to get ready.

at first you were all listening to music, talking and laughing, but by the time you had re applied your makeup for the second time, and re curled your hair for the third time, chris had gotten bored and fallen asleep, and nick had just simply lost interest and started staring at the wall.

“i don’t wanna wear these shoes”

“the white shirt is so cute though”

“but the sleeves are weird”

“i’m not going”

“y/n!” nick yelled, snapping you out of your frenzy and waking chris up.

you turned to him with wide eyes at his sudden outburst.

“we were supposed to leave an hour ago, wear the black shirt with the white shoes” he breathed, closing his eyes, briefly before opening them and looking at you with a hard stare.

“fine” you replied, rolling your eyes and stomping over to your bathroom to change.

“what if matts there?” you yelled through the door, pulling your shirt over your head.

“he won’t be” chris yelled back.

you didn’t say anything else as you straightened the top out and fixed your hair. there was a small tiny microscopic piece of you that wished he would be there. not so you could talk or anything. just so he could see you enjoying yourself, but the way this night was going. you highly doubted you would.

-

the strong smell of alcohol and weed wafted through the air as you made your way through the house, chris close on your tail.

there were people everywhere some of wich you recognised, some you didn’t, all sandwiched together, and it only made you question why people enjoyed parties more.

you had been here for almost an hour now and you hadn’t left chris’s side once. he had been catching up with some old friends who moved town when they were younger, but you just stood quietly scoping the area.

so far you we’re safe. no matt. no elijah. and you hoped it would stay that way, partially.

“hey i’m gonna go grab a drink” you said, pulling on chris’s arm to get his attention.

he nodded, and started saying his goodbyes to his friends, telling them he would see them later, indicating he was coming with you.

there was a large table in the middle of the kitchen, full of alcoholic drinks and right now, to you, it looked like it was glowing.

“you’re drinking?” chris questioned with his eyebrows pinched together.

“yeah why not?” you shrugged, reaching for the vodka bottle and a red solo cup.

“whatever just….don’t get too drunk” chris laughed, but his voice carried a warning tone.

you just rolled your eyes before pouring both you and Chris a shot, and handing him the cup.

“here’s to, handsome dark tattooed men, aka matt” Chris laughed before bringing the cup up to his mouth.

you just shook your head, smiling before also taking the shot.

your face scrunched up at the taste in your mouth, it was horrible. but the feel of it burning in your chest was thrilling.

you never really drank. sure you’d had alcohol before, but always in an environment where you were comfortable, like you’re own house while your parents were asleep, or nicks room while his parents were away for the weekend, never in the heat of a raging house party.

“hey, i’m gonna use the bathroom i’ll be right back” chris said, raising his voice slightly over the music.

you just hummed a reply before watching him walk away, and then turning back to the table of drinks.

fireball.

you poured the shot and downed it instantly. better than vodka, still gross.

one more couldn’t hurt.

you poured the shot again, bringing it to your lips, and just as the hot liquid entered your mouth. a voice appeared behind you.

“thirsty?”

fuck.

you ignored him completely, bringing the cup back down and placing it on the table.

“didn’t think i’d see you here, this isn’t really your scene” he told you, coming around to the side of you and leaning on the table.

you ignored him again, pouring yet another shot.

“then again, matt sturniolo isn’t really your scene, somehow you’re all over him” he muttered in a low voice, and from the corner of your eye, you saw him looking around.

he was just as paranoid as you were.

“who i’m all over is none of your business anymore elijah” you sighed, turning to him and smiling sarcastically. but someone else caught your eye.

a dark, tattooed, handsome man who could easily sweep you off your feet.

he was watching you. his gaze strong and jaw clenched. and suddenly elijahs voice became a ringing in your ears.

you could have crumbled there and then, he looked good. his tattoos on full display, slight stubble growing, that you had noticed this morning but you were too fucking angry to register it.

his eyes stayed locked on yours, daring you to look away, and when you didn’t, he pushed off the wall he was leaning on, and sauntered over to you.

“….and as far as i’m awar-“

“hey baby” matt cooed, cutting elijah off and wrapping an arm around your waist.

you wanted to pull away. you were still angry at him, but for the sake of the act, you stayed put.

elijah scoffed, looking matt up and down like he was scum of the earth.

your eyes darted between the two, waiting in expectancy for one of them to talk.

“you gotta tell me how you do it sturniolo, you’re always there, you know? waiting to pounce every time i talk to her. maybe i should be concerned. are you stalking me?” elijah questioned. he was trying to get under matts skin, and the way he squeezed your waist slightly, told you it was working.

matt laughed slightly, looking off to the side before bringing his eyes back to elijah.

“well if you wasn’t always bothering my girlfriend, i wouldn’t have to be there every time you talk to her” he shrugged, smiling sarcastically at your ex.

matt turned to you, pulling his eyebrows together.

“is he bothering you sweetheart?” he asked.

you just looked at him with wide eyes. silently begging him not to do anything.

yes you and matt hated each other, but you knew him well enough to know he would use any excuse to punch someone. and elijahs face had been served to him on a silver platter.

“i think you’re bothering her Whitlock” he stated, removing his arm from your waist and stepping in front of you.

“matt” you mumbled. he ignored you.

elijah laughed and dropped his head, standing up fully, like he was trying to intimidate matt but the odds were even. there was no turning back now.

when elijah brought his eyes back up, they landed on yours, his gaze was cold and unsettling, but the words that came out of his mouth, didn’t mean half as much to you as they did matt.

“considering she’s such a slut, i don’t think she minds who bothers her”.

oh shit.

——————————————————————————

taglist: @christinarowie332 @biimpanicking @biplrbtch @ukyos @eyelessdemon00 @iheart2021chris @hearts4chris @leah-loves-lilies @whicked-hazlatwhore @1201pm-blog @yourmom-123456789 @mattnchrisworld @leoloveeeee @jazab3lla @martyniukpl @ilovemattstromboli @obsessedwithyou @breeloveschris @skyteller143 @innocentfsin @thatcrazybitch-69 @ihateeveryone357474 @shmophsturniolo @sturns-posts @mattsturnzzz09 @sturnisposts @jenna0rtegaswife @jeffbuckleylvr27 @sara2233445 @sturniolos4lifee @kasiaslayuje @cosmicmistake42069 @24kmar @ikeryn @sleepdeprivedandinsane @lvr444life @travelintheworld @aubreyswift13 @sturniololol @starziick @nickmillersn1gf @beautyb1ade @tommysaxes @sstvrnioloo

[woso-dreamzzz]

Heart III

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: You get adopted

The day you get adopted, you wear a special dress.

You've got lots of clothes now that you live with Mapi and Ingrid. You didn't use to have so many before because you lived in the hospital but now you have lots and a new, super special dress for your adoption.

It's a busy day, Ingrid says, so you have to wake up early to get to the court. Ingrid's got a super special dress on too and Mapi's wearing a suit in the same colour so you can all match.

The judge who's signing the papers is kind of old with a big white beard and a happy smile. He goes through boring things with your case worker before he beckons you all over to sign the papers.

A picture is taken with you holding the adoption certificate as you stand between your new mummies.

It's still a busy day though so Mami stops off to get ice cream as you and Mama get nice and bundled up in the car. She pulls down the front of your dress to check your scar.

She does that a lot when something big has happened. She did it the first day you came home from surgery and after the first time you went out again.

"You're my mama now," You giggle when Mama pulls away, happy that nothing has changed with your scar.

"Yeah, I am." She's beaming at you and, even though you're strapped into your car seat, you lean forward to kiss her cheek.

She kisses your cheek too and Mami climbs into the car with a tub of ice cream for you.

"Oh, Mapi," Mama says," Don't you think that's a bit too much?"

"No such thing as too much," Mami laughs," Besides, it's a special day. She can have as much ice cream as she wants."

Mama rolls her eyes fondly as she starts the car and drives off.

Today's a very busy day. It was your adoption ceremony and the El Clásico so Ingrid makes sure to get to the stadium as quick as she can. They've been prepared for this ever since the date was confirmed.

Mapi's got a bag packed with a change of clothes for each of you so your special adoption clothes don't get dirty and Ingrid's also got a surprise waiting for you at the stadium.

She picks you up easily when you arrive and walk you straight into the changing room. Everyone else is already out doing the pitch inspection so Ingrid gets you changed into the shirt and shorts Mapi packed.

She kisses you on the cheek before pushing you over to Mapi, who has already changed out of her suit.

"Come on," Mapi says," Let's go and see the others."

You've never been on a pitch before. A few weeks, when you started coming with Mama and Mami to practice, you sat in the stands and coloured. You were still healing from getting your new Santa heart so Mama wanted to make sure that you didn't stress it out.

This is your first time on grass and it's a little scary. You wiggle your feet nervously as you stand on the side, grasping tightly to Mami's hand.

"It's okay," Mami says as if reading your mind," It's just grass. Nothing to worry about." She points over to where Pina and Patri are waving at you. "See? How about we head on over?"

Mami holds your hand as you jog over to her teammates. The grass is kind of springy under your feet and still sort of firm like if you were walking on the floor of the hospital.

You kind of like it.

"Mami," You say, puffing out your chest," I'm walkin' on grass."

"You are," Mami laughs," Feels good, huh?"

"Uh-huh!"

Mama shows you your special surprise when you return to the changing room. You reach out to touch it. It's got your new last name on it, 'Engen-Leon' for everyone to see.

"Do you like it?" Mama asks even though she already knows your answer by the way that you try to pull it over the shirt that you're still wearing.

"Love it!" You turn to look at Mami. "Look, Mami! It's got my name!"

"It does," Mami agrees as she helps you put it on," You'll look extra good when you walk out with me."

"With you?" Mama laughs with a shake of the head," You mean with me."

Mami laughs too as she laces up her boots.

"For what it's worth," Patri says from across the room," If you guys are struggling to choose, she can walk out with me."

"No chance!"

"Rock paper scissors for it?" Mami offers, holding her fist out and Mama rolls her eyes but still agrees.

Mami must regret choosing to play because Mama wins happily and walks out with you in your brand new jersey.

Both Mama and Mami are starting off on the pitch so you're left with Pina and Patri on the bench.

It's an El Clásico so it's very important Barcelona wins and Pina and Patri are eager for their own chances on the field even as the team go two-nil up within the first fifteen minutes.

Mami takes a free kick that flies straight into the goal from distance and instead of celebrating with the team she comes straight over to the sidelines to hug you.

You giggle as she presses a kiss to your cheek before returning you to your babysitters.

The score goes up to five-nil in the second half and Real Madrid concede a corner.

The team all line up to take it but it's Mama's head that hits it into the goal. She jumps and pumps her fist into the air before coming to the sidelines towards you as well.

She rains kisses down on your face and kisses the Barca crest on your chest.

"Mama!" You giggle as she keeps kissing you," You have to play!"

She kisses you one last time before cradling your face in her hands. "We'll finish up here," She says," And then we'll go get dinner, okay?"

You smile. "Okay, Mama!"

[ellieslittlewh0re]

Temptations - stepsister! ellie x fem reader

wk- 3.5k

summary- reader and ellie visit home for the summer after their time away at collage

additional tags: IM SORRY!! I know this is pushing it but it can’t be inc*st if they’re not blood related right? 🙃, reader is Joel’s bio daughter, sarah doesn’t exists in this bc I said so, ellie is adopted, rocker! ellie, band! ellie, loser! ellie, perv! ellie, weed! mention, ellie is kinda awful in this, like typical f*ck boy beat, reader and ellie are polar opposites so they kinda don’t get along, reader is a overachiever, ellie is a deadbeat, nothing too crazy happens in this part, masturbation! warning (ellie), no physical description of reader, mutual pinning and gay longing etc…

part 1 - part 2

psa!! I know this isn’t for everyone!! If you don’t like it, don’t read it!! 🥰

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The sweltering blaze of the summer Texas sun made my thighs stick to the leather seat of my 97' Buick as I exited the car.

I looked up at the pale yellow house, peeled siding, and a crooked white picket fence hugging the perimeter. It was familiar. It was home. Memories, good and bad, rested in the floorboards.

I stood in the driveway, the strap of my tank loosely hung off my shoulder, backpack slung over one arm, and the other weighed down by a suitcase.

"Hey- kiddo! You're late."

A man shouted from the front porch, waving his hand excitedly.

"I know. I'm sorry. Traffic was bad moving' through Houston." I gave the old man an apologetic smile as he met me halfway, pulling me in for a familiar embrace of musk and pine.

"Jus' glad you made it safe, is all. Dinners on the table. Hope yer hungry- I think I made too much." Joel gave me a smile, the wrinkles on his face looked deeper than I remembered.

He escorts me into the house, taking my bags from me and relieving me of the extra weight.

The house looks the same, but at the same time different. Smaller maybe? The furniture was in the same positions, the walls the same color, although slightly faded from the years.

"Can you go get yer sister? Tell her supper s' ready." The man asks as he turns to the staircase off the entry, bags in hand to put them in my old bedroom.

I tense, my body physically rejecting the idea of my sister- well, step sister.

I was hoping to make it here before she did, give me a few hours of peace before she'd ultimately ruin it.

When Ellie came into this family, it didn't take long for me to become jealous. She quickly clicked with Joel, bonding with him over things that he took an interest in; building shelves, working on cars, hell, even playing guitar.

It's not like I thought my dad loved Ellie more or anything. I knew I'd always be his little girl that got perfect grades and stayed out of trouble, but seeing how his face lit up when Ellie was by his side, grease smeared on her cheek made me heart seare.

I start to head up the stairs, following Joel's lead when I remembered she hasn't slept up there since she was a kid.

During Ellie's angsty teen years, she had begged Joel for days to let her move her bedroom in the basement, claiming "a growing girl needs her own space."

Joel always shot her down, but Ellie wouldn't let up. One night when I couldn't sleep, I got out of bed to get something to drink only to be met with Ellie's 16 year old string bean self pushing her mattress over the railing, and ever since then, the basement has been her territory.

I turn, slowly waking towards the door off of the kitchen that led to said basement, not a hint of enthusiasm in my step.

I creaked open the heavy door, and the wooden steps creaked beneath my feet with each step. Sounds of electronic gunshots and disgruntled curses grew louder as I reached the bottom.

I extend my neck around the corner of the cement room, clothes and empty cans scattered on the floor, music and movie posters filling every inch of the wall surface.

"Els...Ellie." I repeat her name, but she doesn't acknowledge it, her focus never straying from the first person shooter game on the tv. The LED lights that outlined the room turned the space into a purple hue.

My patience wearing thin, I yell her name one last time.

"What?!" Ellie huffed, tearing off the headset that covered her ears and looked at me.

"Dinner is ready." I said plainly, rolling my eyes before going back up the stairs.

"What? I don't even get a hello?"

Ellie yells from her still seated position, a cockiness tingled on her lips.

I scoff, rolling my eyes even harder even if she couldn't witness it. I picture that familiar smug smirk on her face that she had whenever she was trying to piss me off, and it was working.

Ellie loved toying with you like this since you were 16, and she was 17, poking and prodding at you as she sat back, and watched you get worked up. Ellie would never admit it to you, but she loved how no matter how little she tried to rile you up; you'd always bite.

"How's yer classes going? Likin' your teachers alright?" Joel asked between bites of his burger, his eyes glancing at me and over to Ellie, more specifically towards Ellie.

"Good... yeah, everything's good." I nod towards him, giving him a sincere smile to assure him.

Joel winked, smiling back like he knew he could count on me when it came to that sort of thing.

Ellie didn't respond, too busy shoving food in her face which made Joel kick her under the table, jolting her attention away from her plate.

"Ow! What the hell?" Ellie yelled, throwing her hands up.

"Yer classes, Ellie. How are you doin'?" The man asked, a seriousness overtaking his tone.

Ellie groaned, throwing her head back over the top of the wooden dining chair.

"They're fine. Stop worryin'." Ellie gave him a glare before diverting her attention back to her food.

I watch her from across the table, my legs crossed as I quietly ate which was the complete opposite of her.

Ellie's elbows rested on the oak table, her body slightly hunched as she devoured every last bite like she was a starved animal.

I stood at the sink, washing a cup when I felt a hand grab my hip from behind.

"Sorry- here's another one." Ellie talked into my neck, her fingers digging into my hip slightly. Her chest brushed against my back, and her lips too close to my neck. It felt suffocating.

I hadn't realized her presence had me washing the same cup for the entire interaction.

"Hey, Ellie-"

Joel's voice boomed, interrupted into the kitchen, causing Ellie to push herself away quickly.

Joel stood in the archway, his forearm coming up to lean against it.

"I haven't been down in the basement for a long time- please sleep upstairs. I don't need ya gettin' bit by a widow or somthin'."

Ellie groaned, her eyes lolling back into her skull, but she didn't argue.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner was long over. Joel retreated into his bed room for the night, placing a kiss on the top of my head before doing so.

I was sitting on the couch; the tv show I was watching was the only source of light that illuminated the main floor.

It was quiet and peaceful, Ellie had gone back down to her dungeon shortly after dinner, playing video games by the sounds of it.

My quiet was disturbed as the heavy basement door swung open, revealing a homely looking Ellie. Her sweatpants hung low on her hips, checkered green and blue boxers peaking above the waistband, and black wifebeater that snugged her torso.

"Isn't past your bed time, young lady?" Ellie teased as she opened the fridge, pulling out a beer before lazily making her way to the living room.

"Who cut your hair, Hellen Keller?" I snapped right back, a smirk on my lips as she took a seat on the opposite end of the couch.

"Oh- ha. Ha. You're funny."

Ellie pulled a lighter out of the pocket of her pants, using the top to pop open the cap of the brown bottle.

Her chuckle was low and raspy as she brought the rim of the bottle to her lips, her head dipping back as she swallowed the liquid.

Ellie had changed a lot since the last time I saw her, almost two years ago. Her hair is shorter, choppier, and a darker shade of brown, almost black.

Ellie is also taller and more muscular like she really grew into herself. Her face has hardened, her cheeks and jaw more apparent than before.

I sneak peeks at her, looking her over and familiarize myself with my step sisters new look. My eyes travel down to the dark green-blue ink that covered her forearm, a moth with fern leaves. It was pretty, almost too delicate looking compared to her, but it suited her.

My eyes scale down further to her hands, long fingers and a prominent veins that curved along. I have to give it to her, she always had beautiful hands.

"Take a picture it will last longer."

Ellie's voice jolted me out of my trance, my head quickly turning back to the tv.

I try to think of something- anything to cover my tracks.

"Don't get cocky- I was looking at your tattoo. It's nice... who did it?"

Ellie lifted her arm, turning it over to observe it.

"My ex. She bought a tattoo gun online and needed someone to practice on." Ellie said nonchalantly, shrugging before looking back up at the tv.

"Well- she did good. Why is she your ex now? You should've kept her around and gotten tatted up." I ask with genuine interest.

Ellie shrugged, taking another sip of her beer.

"Dunno- We kinda just fell out? Plus she caught me with another chick and freaked out." Ellie stated, not a hint of guilt after just admitting she's a cheater.

Somehow it didn't surprise me after all the girls she'd bring home after school. I'd see the same girl come over a few times within the week, only for the girl to be replaced by a different girl, and the cycle continued like that until she left for college.

"You think your big sis is a bad person now?" Ellie asked, a grin on her lips and she took another sip.

"It doesn't make me think of you any differently." I lied. It did make me think of her differently; I started to imagine what her sex life was like.

What's so great about her? That had these girls constantly following her home like a lost puppy. Surely, it's not her sunshine personality.

My mind flicks back to her hands, my eyes still glued to the tv. Her long and rough, calloused fingers must be the magic touch.

Ellie hummed at my response unconvincingly. The light from the tv illuminated the freckles on her cheeks and nose.

"The fuck are we watching anyways? Some cheesy reality show? Wait- is this the gay one?"

Ellie's voice piqued in interest, her back shimming further back into the cushion to her comfortable.

"Um- yeah, why?"

I ask, side eyeing her, not really understanding what the big deal was.

********

The big deal was; Ellie never knew if you were into girls; or not. She tried to figure it out for years, carefully observing the people you brought home for school. You didn't make it easy, and truthfully you were kinda a loner, only having a few close friends that you'd invite over.

Although there was that one time; you came home from school with a different girl that Ellie had never seen before, and when Ellie tried introducing herself, you quickly took the mystery girl's hand in yours and ran upstairs, locking the two of you in your bedroom.

Ellie fought herself over it for a long time, trying to picture you with a girl. She wondered if you had kissed another girl, held another girl's hand, and it drove Ellie fucking insane.

Ellie had a dark secret that she wouldn't dare say out loud and definitely would never let you know about it.

Ellie started thinking about you a lot after you turned 16, and they were almost never innocent thoughts. When you turned 16 it was like Aphrodite came down to earth and blessed you herself.

Ellie wasn't proud that she had these thoughts, I mean, you were her little sis after all, but it didn't stop her from picturing you whenever she fucked random college girls in the fraternity bathrooms.

********

Ellie shushed my question, motioning for me to turn it up and I do.

Four episodes in, both of us were dead silent as we watched the horror that is reality tv dating shows. We shared glances at each other whenever one of the cast members said something outrageous, but other than that, we just watched and enjoyed the presence of one another.

It was getting late, my eyes grew heavy and harder to keep open.

"Alright- it's gettin' late, and I have to shower still. Pick this up tomorrow?" I pause the tv and stand up with a yawn.

Ellie pleaded for one episode, holding her hands in a prayer. I stand my ground, promising her we can binge it tomorrow and that seemed to work.

We go up the stairs, Ellie following close behind as we mumble goodnights to each other before we go into our designated bedrooms.

I rummage through my suitcase, pulling out a over sized t-shirt and underwear.

I turn on the light in the bathroom, closing the door, but not all the way. It was a bad habit that I never grew out of, leaving the bathroom door open a few inches whenever I took a shower or bath. I did it because growing up, I was terrified of the bathroom, scared I'd get locked in and somehow the lights go out, and the grudge lady would be hiding in the shower.

I slip off my jeans and my tank, dropping them to the floor and turn on the water. I wait, holding my hand under the stream until the temperature was up to my standards.

I get in, letting the hot water soothe my aching muscles from sitting in a car all day. I felt the tenseness of my shoulders relax and my heart rate slowing down to a more relaxed pace.

***********

Ellie laid in bed, her arm folding under her head as the springs in the mattress poked her back. She scrolled through various apps, checking social media, playing games and repeating.

The sound of the water running in the room down the hall could be heard faintly in Ellie's old bedroom. The walls were still painted a dark shade of blue, with doodles of planets and rockets hand painted by Ellie herself.

Joel couldn't bring himself to paint over them.

The joint (or a few joints) Ellie smoked after dinner; was starting to kick in and made her crave some sort of barbaric concoction.

Pickles with peanut butter, maybe?

Ellie sighed, lifting her myself from the bed lazily, scratching the back of her neck before she turned the nob.

Ellie entered the long stretch of the hall, passing your bedroom the illuminated with a soft pink hue. Coming up on the bathroom, she paused.

At first, she wanted to tease you, to scold you for still keeping the bathroom open when you showered. You weren't a little kid anymore, and you needed to grow up in Ellie's mind.

On the other hand, Ellie was intrigued. She found herself peeking through the gap, the steamed glass door of the shower made it hard to make out details, but it was enough.

She felt wrong about it. One part of her was pulling her body away, telling her to stop looking, but the other part of her (the more fucked up part) couldn't look away.

Her eyes trailed up the profile of your body; pausing momentarily at points of interest.

Ellie didn't know it at the time, but she was biting down on her lip hard as she looked at the curve of your ass, plump and full, and the way your tits sat so high and perky.

Her hand coming down to cup her cunt, rolling her wrist against her clit. A moan escapes her lips as she continued to watch.

The sound of the water shutting off made Ellie snap back to her senses. She quickly backed away from the door and as quickly and quietly, as she could, made her way back to her bedroom and shut the door.

She fell into the mattress, taking a deep and shaky breath as she realizes what she's done. A wave of guilt washed over her- no, more like a tsunami. You were her step sisters, and even worse you've know eachother since Ellie was 14 and you were 13. You practically grew up together, but how would've Ellie known you'd grow into that.

Ellie couldn't deny she thought you were beautiful. Not just the fake, superficial type of beauty, but naturally, you were breathtaking to her, and your body matched.

As Ellie conflicted with herself, she continued to picture you. She imagined what you looked like underneath her, what you sounded like when she was splitting you open.

The guilt was replaced by lust and hormones, but mostly; lust.

Her hand crept down to the hemp of her boxers, slipping inside. Her other hand grabbed the bottom of her tank and brought it up to hold between her teeth- leaving her breasts exposed.

Ellie's fingers glided along her folds, coating them in her slick. She teased her entrance, rubbing gentle circles around her clit.

"Fuuuck- look what you do t' me, y/n" Ellie stifled a moan, dropping the fabric from her teeth as her middle finger sunk into her pussy, pumping in and out, slowly.

She moaned your name; over and over, adding another finger and quickening the pace.

The scene was honestly pathetic. Ellie's sweats and boxers tugged down to her knees, not bothering to take them off completely. Her breasts were the only thing holding the tank up, her hardened nipples- red and swollen as she harshly tugged at them.

"Fuu- your s-so wet, baby. You like when I fuck you like this? Huh?" Ellie babbled and stuttered, gritting through her teeth as she reached closer to her peak.

She pictured this is what you felt like as she sunk her fingers inside, curling against the spongy walls, hitting the spot that made you squirm with each pump.

She wanted to hear you beg, wanted to hear you say her name over and over until it didn't sound like a word anymore.

"Fuu-fuckin' bitch- d-dirty fuckin' whore-" Ellie curses, jaw slacked and her eyebrows furrowed upwards. Her rhythm became jagged as her hips bucked upwards, fucking herself through her orgasm.

Ellie panted, sprawled across the bed as bolts of electricity continued to send shock waves through her body.

Her inner thighs glistened, her breasts malled and violated.

It was official, Ellie had hit a new level of fucked up, but that's okay as long as you never find out.

It's not like you had your ear pressed against the wall as soon as you heard strange noises coming from your step sisters bedroom.

[tokkiwrites]

┈─ 𖧷 Dirty Diana 🍷⏜ ◌

ㅡㅡㅡ in which you want to surprise your dad with his favorite band tickets. you're really lucky when you stumble upon the lead guitarist, Joel Miller, at your local grocery store. things escalate- but you do get those tickets.

★ ͘rockstar!joel miller, fem!reader, dom joel, sub reader, afab reader, p in v sex unprotected, rough joel, age gap, dumbification of reader, hair pulling, slapping, head m and f receiving, creampie, kind of size kink if u tilt your head, joel has tattoos and a piercings (yummy), sir kink, almost pet play, lots of pet names. drinking, mentions of cheating. lmk if i missed any!!!! (pic in the banner doesn't describe readers body!! there for the aesthetics) not proofread

you've never been a rock fan. sure, you'd enjoy listening to the songs your dad played on your 3 hour long car rides, the ones he always sets as his ring-tone...

but you were in a dilemma nowㅡ there's a giveaway of sorts with tickets to your dad's most favorite band from the early 90's, and to even have a chance at those tickets you need to submit a video of yourself singing one of their songs.

now you would ask your dad, but the first thing that made you this set on getting those tickets was surprising him with them on his upcoming birthday. you'd buy them, but they're either sold out or 200 bucks on shady sitesㅡ and you're a broke college student on winter break.

you sigh, closing your laptop and throwing it on the other side of the bed. you stare up at the ceiling, counting the little neon stars you've had there since you were 10. they always calmed youㅡ made your brain less foggy, even for just a few seconds.

groaning, you throw your legs around, frustrated and disappointed in yourself. this would've really made his worries slip away, for a bit, after what happened with your mom. you still can't wrap your head around why your mom chose her exceeding in nothing, 2 palms of receding hairline co-worker. i mean, he was richㅡ super fucking rich, but was it worth it? your dad didn't deserve it.

you wipe the tears you've just now realized were dripping down your face. "i need something to drink." sniffling, you put on your plush jacket, get some slippers , and spray on some perfume. "at least need to smell presentable if i look likeㅡ" you stare into the mirror, laughing to yourself, "that."

you stroll out of your house and down the street. you were lucky for the grocery store just about 7 minutes away, give or take. it wasn't that small but it wasn't big either, at least not big enough so that you learned form a young age where all of your favorite iles were.

"Hi, Miss Sammy!" you greet the cashier, an old friend of the family and sort of an aunt to youㅡ you remember when she'd let you stay after school in the back of the store up until 5 pm, when your dad came to pick you up. "Hi, honey! How's winter break treating you?"

"Rough day?" you jump, taking one step back before you turn around to see who it was.

"'s fine... I'm glad to be back home with dad." you smile and her gaze softened. "Well if you ever need anythin', you let me know sugar, mkay?" you nod, walking to the furthest part of the store, where all of the drinks were. you look around, trying to find the cheapest thing that can get you dizzy the fastest. really deep in your mind you failed to notice someone coming up to your side, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, you could say thaㅡ wait." you pause. holy shit. you couldn't believe your eyes. "I know you! You're thㅡ" he presses his fingers agains your lips, and oh, it sends a shiver down your back. "quiet down, darlin'."

you nod, whispers-yelling, "You're Joel Miller, right?" he sighs, smiling at your question, and your eyes light up. this is perfect, so, so perfect. "My dad loves you guysㅡ you and your band."

"that so?" your arms flare up, smiling so big. "you've no idea! 's why i was so excited to hear about you coming to town. Wanted to surprise him."

"wanted?" Joel quirks his eyebrows up, his voice dropping an octave. "Yeah, well, i found out pretty late about it and - well, tickets, they're super expensive now, as you'd imagine.." You sigh, turning back to look at the bottles catching the white light of the room. "jus' wanted to give him something to be happy about, you know?" You reach out to grab a 16$ bottle of wine you know is too sweet, but it'll do. trying to lift the mood, you try your hand at a joke. "guess my only option is to fuck somebody who has those tickets." you look at him and his brows are furrowed. stupid, stupid, stupid joke, stupid you.

"so-rry, didn't mean toㅡ"

"that so, pretty girl?" Those words go straight to your core, causing you to nip at your bottom lip, stiff like a stone. "Now, you can't just say somethin' like thatㅡ" Joel leans in closer "'n not answer me."

you look up at him, and you finally get a better look. there aren't many pictures of him close up on the internet, mostly grainy ones where you can barely make out his tattoos. you gulp, eyes traveling across his face: a brow piercing, a full beard with patches of gray, a neck tattoo with a ravenㅡ he looked surreal.

"y'gonna answer me, angel-face? or do i need to pull out those words myself?" god, you were practically dripping on the linoleum of the store, cheeks ablaze and words tangled in your throat.

"I'm ㅡ" he traces his inked fingers across the exposed part of your neck, chuckling at your demeanor. "I live 5 minutes away." you blurt out, causing his eyes to widen. "maybeㅡ come over?" god, what were you doing? you sure hope not to regret your words later. but right now, two things you knew for certain: you were way too turned on, and he was way too hot for his age.

Joel smirks, his fingers lingering on your skin. "Well, darlin', seems like fate's on your side today." He grabs the bottle of wine you were holding, examining it. "I ain't lettin' you drink that, girl." he scoffs, picking up a bottle of Giulio Ferrari from 1992, not even looking at the price. "Let me spoil you a bit, yeah." you can't even say a word, you pathetically whine, as your knees wobble like jelly.

Joel puts the hoodie over his head and looks down at you, his firey stare making your cheeks burn up all over again. "y'know the lady?" he asks, motioning his head towards Sammy who was busy playing Rummy on her phone. "I do, old familyㅡ well, like family." He nods, patting your shoulder, "you go ahead, wait f'me in front of the store by that coffee machine. I'mma pay real quick, yeah?" you nod so fast, way too excited with those butterflies tying knots in your stomach, you head to the door.

"Bye, Miss Sammy!" you wave, and she just hums and gives half of a wave back "buh-bye, sugar." too fixed on her phone. As Joel pays for the bottle of wine, he glances back at you exiting the store.

"Lead the way, darlin'. Let's see if we can work something out." and oh, the way those words make you drip in anticipation. the way you were so eager to have his hands all over your body- those tickets were the last thing on your mind right now. You both head towards your house, the cold air adding a sense of urgency to the situation. You couldn't believe how needy he made you with just a few words. Small talk fills the short journey, with Joel sharing stories from the road and you nervously responding.

Once inside your home, Joel looks around appreciatively. "Cozy place you got here." you nod, leading him to the kitchen. "your daddy home?"

"no.." you fumble your steps as you hurriedly put two glasses on the counter for Joel to fill up with wine. Joel smirks, sensing the tension in the air. "Just us, then," he says, pouring the wine into the glasses. The rich aroma of the aged wine fills the room as he hands you a glass. "Cheers to unexpected encounters," he toasts, clinking glasses with you. The wine is exquisite, but the real intoxication is the electrifying presence of Joel. Tattoos adorned his body, his fluffy hair laid perfectly, strands of gray standing out; the way his muscles bulged through his shirtㅡ you could see it all better now.

"feels like you're about to eat me, baby. way you're starin' me down." joel chuckles. "sorry I'mㅡ sorry." you nervously sip from you glass trying to put out the fire in your core, his voice making it ten times harder for you. "now, how you gonna get what you want if you get so shy on me, hm?"

joel steps closer to you, and your chest burns, heaving up and down as his arms snake around your waist and settle onto your tummy. "ain't you a big girl? thought you were- how you so eagerly invited a stranger ㅡsuch an old man into your home when your daddy ain't around." he rubs through you, a squeaky whimper slipping past your lips as you felt his bulge against you. "oh, she likes that, don't she?" you breathe out "god.."

"please..." you plead, palms now on top of his as you slowly turn your head to expose your neck further. "please what, babygirl?"

"not god, baby..jus' me." he chuckles murkily.

"please, sir..t-touch me." you back your body further, prompting joel to groan and tighten his grasp on you. "jesus, girl." he laughs "dirty little thing." his rough hands make their way under your lace trimmed long-sleeve, grasping at you breasts.

"no bra, baby?" he asks, swirling his thumbs across your sprung up nipples, and you moan a quiet 'no'. "what if your daddy walks through that door right now, huh?"

"dont care..." you lean more into his touch, intoxicated from it and his scent, a hint of smoky wood, and a touch of muskㅡ he smelled delicious. you couldn't wait to have him on your tongue.

"'course you don't. needy little whore wants an old man to fuck her senselessㅡ need me to fill ya up with this cock til you're dumb and can't think no more." you moan, so eagerly shaking your head as you press your ass onto his hard-on, getting joel to wrap his thick fingers around your throat and spin you around to face him. "not so fast, girl. wanna see ya beg, can you do that f'me angel?" his graps grow rougher, and you mewl out a string of yes, yes, yes, whilst dropping to your knees, as he instructs

"eyes up, babyㅡ there she is." joel strokes your face before delivering a harsh slap onto your already red cheek. moaning, you rub your thighs together as to evade just a bit of pressure in your cunt. "pretty little slut. so pretty like this." he growls, taking a handful of your hair "go on now. beg. tell sir how bad you need his cock."

and you do. you beg and plead, press your face against his thigh like a little puppy. you don't take you eyes off of his, prompting yourself with his boot under your clothed cunt. "please, sir.. v'been so good..." and you start moving slowly, cheek now flush against his crotch. you moan and rut against him, heat washing over your whole body. you wanted to make him proud, you dont know what came over youㅡ you were so drunken and you didn't know if it was because of the wine or because of joel.

the way he stared down at you, his pupils almost like an eclipse to his hazel eyes, lips half hidden behind his mustache. The way his piercing gaze holds yours, unwavering and commanding; he was rough and enticing, mean in just the right wayㅡ his voice dripped like honey and you couldn't hold but lick it up and let it poison you through and through.

"atta girl." you looked so vulnerable. so innocent. so raw and ready for him to taint and infect you with his all. he unbuckled his pants, leaving them a bit open at the top, perfectly for you to see the strain his thick cock put onto his briefs. "c'mon. don't make me wait, baby..." you didn't need to hear more, eagerly pulling out his erect length, letting it slap onto his clothed belly. you could drool at the sight, all though you're pretty sure you already were. he was bigㅡ huge even, the biggest you've ever seen. it was girthy and had veins running down it, tip red, dripping with precum. "too b-big-" you manage to let out. "you'll make it fit, puppy. for me, yeah? c'mon, let me fuck that pretty mouth." and you softly reply with 'yes, sir' before he yanks at your hair and directs his dick right between your lips. "open. widee openㅡ there you go." he encourages you as you try your best to fit that monster into your mouth. it hurts and your chin stings as joel slowly stars to thrust his length into you mouth- or at list what fits of it.

"pretty slut. look so good with her mouth full of cock." joel hums as you whine around him. "like this cock, baby?" he knows you can't answer, mouth too full and brain to fuzzy. "so cock stupid, can't even speak." he laughs. you've never felt like this, god, not even imagined something like this. yet there you were with someone who's twice your age fucking your mouth. "what would your daddy say?" you whine and squeeze around nothing, nails digging into the back of his knees. joel can only laugh as he puls out, rubbing his tip over your lips to collect the drool that mixed with his precum, and smear it all over your rosy cheeks.

you felt so dirty. but it felt rightㅡ for a good cause, right?

he slaps your face with his length before pulling you up by your hair, bending you over the kitchen counter. "gonna let me fuck you, babygirl?"

"yes-" you wriggle into his hold. "yes, what?" hes prying "yes, sir." you obediently reply. "good fuckin' pup." he doesn't even haltㅡ joel pulls down your pants at once with your panties. he delivers a harsh slap before trailing his digits right between your legs. "poor lil' cunt. look at 'er." he coos. "crying for this cock."

"please, sirㅡ mmhg.." whining, you try to rub yourself onto his fingers, but he quickly slaps you again, this time on the side of your thigh. "don't be a greedy bitch. you take what i give you, understand?"

"y-yes, sir, pleaseㅡ" he clicks his tongue before kneeling, spreading your pussy lips as he does, leaning in and blowing onto your sensitive clit. you jump and moan in frustration. "i know, baby, i know." he spreads your legs further, finally landing a soft and teasing lick between your folds. it doesn't take long for joel to go at it, sucking and licking at your cunt like theres no tomorrow, your desperate pleads to come only fueling him. "not yet, angel-baby." he gorans, picking himself up. "want you to come 'round my cock. want you to come while i stuff you up nice 'n good." you nod, not even half sure what you heard, you were too dizzy and the sudden lack of stimulation drove you mad.

joel positions himself behind you, lifting your leg up so one of your knees rests onto the counter. he teases your entrance with the tip of his cock, wanting to pull more from you, to get you even needful. you couldn't barely muster to hold yourself up, letting all of your weight on Joel, deprived pleads rolling of your tongue.

when he's content with the teasing, he starts to ease into you. it's like you're awakened from a trance, fully aware of everything, and every fiber of your body. it all vibrates as a sting spreads through your body, and you squeeze around Joel. "fuckkㅡ so fuckin' tight, baby- I'd think were a virgin if i didn't know what a cock slut you actually are." he laughs somberly before plunging straight into you. your tongue luls out, tears on the brink of your eyes as you cand only squeal out pathetic moans and incoherent blathers. "shitㅡ ! squeezing me so good, baby"

and he goes at you, diving deeper and deeper with each hit of his hips, one palm holding your leg up and one pressing you face flush on the cold surface of the counter. "like that? like it when an old man has his way with ya, huh?" you can't hear him, you barely make out his words; your eyes roll back and spine arched as he plummets into your cunt. "fucked you stupid, huh? dirty girl." joel snickers, feeling your walls squeeze around him as he takes one of your palms and places it right on top of your belly. "feel." and, fuck, you feel. his cock reaches so far into you it bulges through your pelvis; you feel it and you're jelly all over again.

he takes both his arms and hold you by your shoulders, hit after hit after hit sending you deeper into oblivionㅡ and you can only moan and cry as you feel your orgasm approaching. desperately, you clench around his cock, sending joel into a frenzy. "wanna come, pup? tell me." he's stern and rough with his request. "hhhaㅡ y-yes, plea-se..." you don't know if you're crying because you feel too good or because of how desperately you need to come.

"come then, make me proud, baby." you writhe as the knots in your core begin to untie, shaking under joel whilst it hits you like a wave of warmth and frost at once. it doesn't take long for him to reach his limit, digging his nails through your thighs, gritting his teeth as he leaves bruises onto you, you wish would never go away.

"need'a come babyㅡ shit! where, tell me where baby." you feel him so deep, you're drunk on him, vision blurry and mind fogged up. you usually don't say this. "in-side- inside, sir, please.." you beg, and you don't wait more than two more seconds as joel spills his warm seed into you, causing you to lick your lips as if you could taste it. Joel holds himself over you, panting as he trails soft kisses onto your back. "did so good, babygirl." you smile stupidly, rolling your hips against his.

"soㅡ" he makes a pause. "you still want those tickets?"

⏜⃞♡⠀⠀🐰 hoohououiuoooio hi guys im kind of pretty obsessed with joel rn so i gotta quench my thirst. this has 3.1k words. hope u like it!! muahhhh thank u again for 150!!!! if u see any grammatical errors no u didn't.

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> choi san x reader warning(s) -> abuse, mentions of physical health, cursing, etc. words -> 3.2K

abstract -> after a messy break up, eunchae encourages the reader to adopt a hybrid. however, this hybrid comes from a dangerous past that might be dangerous for reader.

y/n's perspective

“Eunchae, I really don’t think I could take care of a hybrid” I sulked imagining her car and she sighed.

“After your breakup, you’ve been down. Hybrids can give you company, a platonic relationship.” She begged as she was now trying to convince me to get out of the car and into the hybrid facility.

“Everyone is worried for you. You’re at writer's block, that bastard broke up with you, and you’re alone. Yuta and Shotaro are especially worried about you please?” She begged and I decided to follow her.

I wandered away from her to look at the different hybrids. I missed the cute little fox hybrid I used to know.

I guess foxes are similar to cats… despite being canines.

I saw the feline hybrids… I didn’t even know how far I wandered until I saw a black tail tucked behind a bush.

Were they hiding?

I suddenly saw the black cat's ears go up and I saw it was a man. He was older than what most people go for… but he was so pretty.

“Hello?” I said in awe of the male who turned to me. I now saw his face… he was such a pretty hybrid.

He looked at me indifferently. “His name is San. He is not available for adoption” I heard as I saw behind me. “Why?” I asked and the employee looked annoyed. 

“You’re at the red code hybrids miss,” they said and I didn’t notice. “What will happen to him?” I asked and they sighed. 

“It’s being decided. San has good genes so maybe a farm but he’s far too aggressive to be considered so he might be seeing a euthanizing” they said and I felt my heart break.

How could a hybrid as pretty as he ever be considered to die?

“I heard you can get a red hybrid if you have a hybrid facilitation seal?” I said and they nodded.

I pulled out my license to approach such coded hybrids up to red. The only ones I can’t see are black-coded hybrids.

“Miss, you should know he came from the illegal hybrid fights that were caught a few weeks ago,” they said and that made me feel worse.

I could help him… but why did I want to?

“I’ll take him,” I said and they nodded. 

“I’ll get you the paperwork if you’d like to get to know each other,” they said as they were now home leaving me alone with the hybrid who looked at me confused.

“I’m y/n… they told me your name is San?” I asked as I encouraged him to get near the glass. 

He looked confused and nervous. “You’re a very pretty hybrid,” I said and he looked flustered as he looked away from me.

His pitch-black ears twitched.

“You’ll be coming home with me” I said and he scoffed. “That won’t last, '' he muttered. 

I sighed, illegal hybrid ring.

“I’ll make sure you’re safe. You’ll never have to fight anyone ever again” I said and he looked at me with widened eyes. Almost hopeful…

“Why would you want me? I’ve killed hybrids, I’m too old, I’m not the cute little cat hybrid you could have” he said it rated with me? It sounded almost like he was irritated with himself.

“I’ll dedicate myself to making you happy” 

San didn’t know how to react to what I said. As I was finishing up the documents I heard an enraged voice.

“Yah! You left me when we’re here for you!” Eunchae yelled and I nodded. “I didn’t think I could find any hybrid that interested me,” I said and she scoffed. “You need to give it… that’s a hybrid application” she said, cutting herself off in a confused voice.

“He’s really pretty, Eunchae. I didn’t know hybrids were so pretty” I said.

“You’ve worked with hybrids before,” she said and I nodded. “I don’t know… something about him pulled me in,” I said completely entranced with him.

“I’m happy you found a hybrid y/n”

Eunchae left as I was now waiting for San…. He was a panther hybrid. Exotic and really rare.

But I also was given the police file of his past for a safety measure. 

“Here he is” I heard as I saw him. They asked me if I had any clothes ready for him and I didn’t but they had some extra clothes.

He was in a simple white shirt and blue jeans.

They don’t give hybrid collars anymore. It wasn’t mandatory. Hybrids were now given collars for safety measures or dome areas in Korea to enforce the collar policy.

It wasn’t necessary though. 

I did custom order a collar, however. It was a collar quite popular for its pretty design. It was also one of the collars more expensive for its comfortable design.

I wanted to give it to him when I felt like I could without offending him.

It was controversial as I knew some hybrids didn’t like the thought of being given a collar.

I wanted to talk to him but he seemed anxious. I wanted to instead let him get used to my presence… he was a hybrid who must’ve held a lot of trauma. 

Maybe I should get an appointment with Kun…

“Oh, San we’re here,” I said as I stopped to enter the apartment complex when San didn’t notice.

“I know it looks intimidating but it’s really pretty and spacious,” I said and he nodded.

He stood close to me… almost as if he was scared to get lost.

“San?” I said and he looked at me almost nervously as he snapped out of his trance.

“Yes?” He asked and I smiled softly. “Are you okay?” I asked and he didn’t answer for a while… before nodding but I doubt he was sure of his answer.

I led him to the elevator. 

“Oh! Y/n!!”I heard as I saw Wonyoung. “You’re finally out of that apartment!!” She celebrated and I smiled meekly.

“Please tell me you’re done with the depressing break-up and grieving?” She asked and I looked down not knowing what to answer. 

“Oh? Who are you?” She asked, looking at San who hid behind me.

“This is San… Eunchae took me to get a hybrid” I said and she looked shocked. “I’m surprised you actually got one? You always said you never thought you could take care of a hybrid of your own!” She said and I chuckled awkwardly.

“Hmm. Can you look strong enough, protect her okay? And if a bastard named Hend—""Okay bye Wonnie!!” I yelled as I grabbed San’s wrist and dragged him to the open elevator.

“Sorry for grabbing you like that,” I said and he shook his head. It was only the two of us in the awkward elevator ride.

“You know her?” He asked and I smiled and nodded. “Our parents are family friends” I answered and he nodded.

“Did you get me to protect you?” He asked without looking at me.

“No… I got you… I actually didn’t want a hybrid but something about you made me adopt you. If anything while being with me you’ll live without worrying about anything ever again”

san’s perspective

Without worrying about anything again?

I didn’t want to believe that… Everyone had something to worry about. She couldn’t make that promise.

She wasn’t dressed like her friend was. Her friend was dressed in designer and looked like the typical rich kid. I was guessing she was the same… 

The elevator finally opened to a gate. She took out a card and she scanned it when it opened. 

She walked in and I followed her to what looked like a penthouse?

“I have five extra rooms, you can choose either one. Though the one closest to my room is the biggest. The others are the same size but that one has its own bathroom.” She explained as she led me to the room. 

It was huge that two, maybe even four hybrids could live here. It was a lot bigger than my kennel…

“Are you hungry?” She asked and I shook my head despite it. 

“Hmm okay. We’ll eat breakfast tomorrow then, oh do you have any favorite foods?” She asked and I shook my head. 

She looked so animated in her expressions. I could see her pity when I told her no.

“You’ll find some and we’ll stock up on them okay?” She said and I nodded.

We’ll see how long I last here… “oh! we need to get you some clothes… do you want to go tomorrow?” She asked and I didn’t… this was temporary. She wanted me for something I just needed to figure out what for.

“You don’t have to go… I can go with Wonyoung. I’ll just size your current clothes” she said and I nodded.

“I’ll let you get used to it… my room is literally down the hall. You can ask for anything” she said as she left.

“What do you want from me?”

I hate to admit that this was the best sleep I felt I’m my entire life.

The bed was so soft and warm because of the blankets and added pillows.

Maybe today I should sleep on the floor like I’m used to…

I left the room… I had to face her eventually and maybe it’ll make her take me back sooner?

“Oh! San, Good morning !!” She said so brightly. She was dressed for the day… she looked like how much money she had. 

Yesterday she wasn’t dressed like this… she is another trust fund kid.

“I’m not the best cook… but I can cook simple things!! I wanted to wait for you when you came out, but I need to go with Wonnie to shop for your clothes” she said and I nodded.

“Do you wanna stay or come with me?” she asked and I instead put my attention on the food.

I heard her chuckle softly.

“It’s okay… if you need anything, call my number with the department's phone. We should get you one soon okay?” She said as she waved at me and went inside the elevator.

I clicked my tongue… that had to be a facade.

The food she made was clearly made by her. If she can afford this place maybe she should buy a chef…

I still ate… it was actually good.

I didn’t expect her to actually make me edible food… I was alone with my thoughts when I ate all the food. 

I went to my room and slept a bit. I didn’t want to touch anything so I did the only thing I could do.

I suddenly heard the ding of the elevator and I went over to greet her cause I thought that’s what I should do but instead…

“Y/nnie!! I need help with— AHH” a guy who looked younger than her came in the elevator. 

Was this her boyfriend? 

“Dude why are— WHO ARE YOU?!” another guy appeared. “Woah… you’re a panther hybrid right ?!” I heard and I scoffed.

“No way… y/n never wanted a hybrid though” the other guy said and I scoffed.

“Uh- not that she doesn’t want you! I mean you’re here!” He tried saving it awkwardly.

“Isn’t it weird though… she never wanted a hybrid” he said and was punched by his friend.

“He can hear you!” The other one yelled. 

“What’s your name, I’m Haechan!” He said… “San” I answered and he nodded. “I’m Mark,” the other said.

There was a weird silence after. 

“You’re the hybrid behavior specialist,” Mark whispered. “I’m a receptionist,” Haechan corrected. 

“When will she be back?” Mark asked me and I shook my head. “She said she’d be back by now?” Haechan said when we heard another ding.

“Thank you!” I heard her voice enthusiastically say to the employees who held so many bags. “Wahhhh,” the two boys said.

Why were there so many bags?

“Huh? What are you two doing here?” Her friend from yesterday said. “We need help with an essay,” Mark said and she scoffed. 

“School,” she said she then looked at me with a happy expression… “You are gonna look amazing! Okay let’s see—“She grabbed my face and I had to control my discomfort

“Wonyoung! You can't manhandle him!” y/n scolded. “I’m not! I just need to see what face type he has for a haircut. He needs it and some trims for his fur…” she continued muttering.

“Did the two of you go shopping?” Haechan asked her and she nodded.

“Everything is for San,” she said and I was shocked. All of this?

I suddenly felt the other girl grab my tail causing me to growl at her.

“Wonyoung! I told you to stop” she whined. I couldn’t control it so I thought she’d scold me... not her friend?

“You need to explain a few things,” she said, now looking skeptical. “Just be careful and don’t touch him,” she said. Was she scared of me? Of course, she was…

Second day here and she might already be regretting it…

“Mark, Haechan I think I’ll have to reschedule. Wonnie thanks for helping me” she said and they nodded.

“We’re going out for lunch tomorrow. No excuses this time!” She said and y/n nodded. “Oh, can we come?” Mark asked and she laughed. “Don’t you have a case to study?”

The elevator soon went down…

“You can choose anything you like! If it doesn’t fit or you don’t like it we can always return…” I stopped listening to her voice.

What makes a trust fund kid qualified to handle a code red hybrid? “San?” She said and I looked at her and she was close. 

I could attack her… it would be easy to kill her.

“I’m tired”

y/n’s perspective

San didn't seem like he was adjusting well…

Something about his behavior seemed…agitated. I really wanted to take him to Kun but he would only get even more agitated.

I moved all the bags to a separate room. I wanted him to look through them. I don’t think he’ll want to though. So I would give him some clothes every day hoping he’ll tell me his opinion.

I did keep a specific bag. His collar.

It was a pretty black jeweled collar with black leather. I think this would offend him…

Yesterday he slept… all day and even now. I knocked on his door until he opened it. “I’m going out for a bit,” I said and he nodded.

“Try not to sleep so much okay? There’s also food in the kitchen so remember to eat” I said and he nodded.

Did he hate it here?

I went towards the elevator and I heard him close his door. The elevator stopped and Wonyoung came in.

“So… you adopted a traumatized hybrid,” she said and I knew she’d catch it easily. “Yeah…” I confessed and she sighed.

“He doesn’t like to be touched… So what else?” She asked and I sighed. “He isn’t good with other hybrids… with commands, bell-like noises, or screams,” I said and she sighed.

“How are you gonna handle a hybrid like that? Just because you have a behaviorist seal doesn’t make you a professional. You’re a writer, not Kun '' she said and I nodded.

“They were gonna kill him,” I said and her eyes widened. “Is he a red code?” She asked and you nodded.

She looked frustrated with me.

“He’s dangerous y/n!” She scolded and sighed.

“I already promised to make him happy”

After lunch with  Wonyoung, Eunchae, NingNing, and Karina I bought some food for San. I wanted him to get comfortable… but it wasn’t gonna happen in two days…

I walked in and didn’t notice anything different… I went to his room and knocked. 

He didn’t answer… maybe I shouldn’t have opened the door. To see the trashed room… claw marks and San staring at me I’m almost a feral state. 

“San?” I whimpered a little scared of the hybrid. A code red hybrid in a feral state could be lethal.

I could only do a frantic quick text to Haechan who I knew would get the message to Kun.

“Why?” He asked and I was confused. “Why adopt me? For pleasure? A trophy maybe? Your pet?” He asked and I shook my head.

“I wanted to help you” I said and he laughed at me now getting closer. “You’re scared… you offered your home to a predator” he taunted and I shook my head.

I wasn’t a professional… I was a book writer.

I accidentally tripped and I was now on the floor as he was in front of me. Leering over me in a predatory gaze.

“What do you want from me?” He asked and I shook my head. “Nothing,” I said and he scoffed.

“A trust fund kid… you don’t adopt an older and stronger hybrid for no reason. Is it because I was pretty? You wanted some fun with me? I know to your little friends a panther is something to brag about” he said and I shook my head.

He thought that?

“Just cause I lived in a cage doesn’t mean I don’t know about people like you,” he said and he grabbed my jaw. It was gentle at first and then he brought out his claws.

They stung a lot but they weren’t a big thing.

“I could kill you,” he said. “You could… but all I wanted was to offer you a better life,” I said and he scoffed. 

“You? What do you want in exchange? You weren’t offering anything for free” he scoffed and I shook my head. 

“Trust me,” I said and he suddenly gripped my jaw a little stronger making me wince in pain. He then punched the nearby bookshelf which had a glass vase.

I moved him out of the way of getting hit by a vase. Luckily it didn’t hit him… but it did hit me. I felt the fragile glass shatter all over my back.

The sudden impact made my vision go dark. 

“I’m sorry you think that way of me” 

san’s perspective

Was this girl an idiot?! I didn’t even notice that the big bookshelf had a vase on the top of it.

But why would she push me away from it? She was in danger, not me… “y/n?!” I heard someone yell out for her. It was someone I didn’t recognize… actually it was kind of familiar

Suddenly I see the appearance of a man… I didn’t recognize him. “Kun, she’s here!” he yelled as he got closer. He had a nurse's uniform… he was gonna help her. 

I didn’t interfere… he picked her up and took her away. She should be okay… it didn’t hurt her head, only her back. Suddenly another man appeared… the doctor that treated me weeks ago. 

“San…? Of course she would adopt you” he muttered clearly knowing her better to say that. “Is she gonna be okay?” I don't know why I asked… Maybe guilt? “I don't know… but you’ll be taken away from here and won’t be given the life you could have had,” he said and I laughed. 

“The life I could have had?” I scoffed out and he nodded. “She told me she adopted a traumatized hybrid. I just didn’t think she would have adopted a red code hybrid like you” he said and I didn’t know her. 

Every human uses everything around them… I would have suffered that with her. 

“Just get me away from here”

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

[call-me-maggie13]

My late 40s to early 50s boss just asked what’s wrong with 18-25 year olds these days

And as a 21 year old all I could think was

The world has been on fire since we were born and we’ve been told the adults are putting it out and now we’re old enough to realize they’ve been pouring kerosene on the flames instead of water.

Before my first birthday, 9/11 happened and the world wouldn’t let us forget it. When I was 6 years old, on September 11th, my teacher sat us down in front of a tv and showed us footage of 9/11 and then told us we weren’t allowed to cry. She said that it was real and those were real people jumping from the building because jumping was a faster death than burning.

When I was 7 years old, the economy collapsed and my family went from lower middle class to poverty, we went from healthy home cooked meals every night to mac and cheese and beans for weeks in a row. We started skipping holidays because mom and dad couldn’t keep the lights on and buy us new toys. We started wearing clothes and shoes until they fell apart.

When I was 11 years old, Sandy Hook was attacked by a grown man with a gun and 26 children and teachers were brutally murdered. My teachers never looked at us the same and I haven’t felt safe in a school since. After that, once a month we would have active shooter drills and we were taught to fight and cause as much damage as possible if an armed man entered our classroom because it gave other classes a few extra seconds to escape, it gave our siblings a few extra breaths of safety. We were taught to cover ourselves in other students blood and play dead if we weren’t hit, we were taught that we weren’t safe and we wouldn’t be safe as long as we were in school.

When I was 15 years old, my high school art teacher locked us in the classroom and told us if we heard gunshots we should line the desks up lengthwise so that they reached the other wall because that would be harder to break through than a barricade. She told us that she knew about the threats and she wouldn’t judge any of us that wanted to leave. She told us to get our siblings and stay in the buildings as long as possible, to duck in between the cars so we couldn’t be seen until we got to ours. She told us about the trail behind the auto shop that was lined with trees and led off campus. I got my brother and his friends and we left, we spent the day sitting on the floor in my living room waiting for a phone call that the people we left behind were dying.

Two weeks later, one of my friends dragged me out of a football game and forced me to go home with him. He grabbed my brothers and my best friend and forced the six of us into a two seater car before he would tell us anything. His mom worked for the school board and had told him the police found an active bomb under the bleachers in the student section, and they weren’t informing anyone because they didn’t want to incite panic.

When I was 16 years old, ISIS set off a bomb at a pop concert in Britain and killed 22 people, injuring at least 100 more. The next day at school, our teachers went over how to stay safe if we ever experienced something like that. They told us the most important thing to remember was to not remove any shrapnel because it could be keeping us from bleeding out, they said it was more important to get yourself out safely before you worried about anyone else.

When I was 18 years old, my teachers stopped teaching and put the news up on the projector and we watched as the Notre-Dame burned. The boy I had sat next to since second grade spent the entire day trying to call his sister who was studying abroad in Paris, I watched this kid I had never even seen frown fall apart in English because she wouldn’t pick up the phone. We didn’t know it at the time, but she was okay.

Six months later, my history teacher put the news on the projector again for another fire. This time, we watched as an entire continent burned for three months. We watched their sky turned orange from the smoke and their wildlife drowned in pools because they were trying to escape the heat.

When I was 19 years old, the whole world shut down because of a global pandemic. I didn’t meet a single new person for eight months, despite the fact that I had just moved across the country. I watched as people didn’t wear masks and spread it to everyone around them, I was so scared when I went back to my room every night because my roommate was immunocompromised and I was terrified I would give her Covid and kill her.

Just two months later, I watched a video of a black man being murdered by police officers. I watched the world around me explode after George Floyd’s death, people destroying businesses and police stations. I watched some of my friends realize police officers didn’t exist to keep them safe, they existed to keep the people in power in power. I learned that some of the people I had grown up with would rather watch a black man die than admit that maybe, maybe, the system was broken.

When I was 20 years old, I went to the mall with a friend to buy a birthday present and I was pulled to the ground by a twelve-year-old girl after gunshots went off in the mall. I held this child’s hands as she cried for two hours until we were evacuated by police, and then I waited with her outside and helped her look for her mom. I gave her my phone to call her mom and I watched as she called the number over and over and never got a reply. I waited with her until a police officer took her to the station to try to find out more information about the girl’s mom, I hugged this girl I had never seen before and I wished her the best. I never found out what happened to her or her mom, it keeps me up at night sometimes worrying that this little girl was orphaned.

When I was 21 years old, I started working at a daycare and exactly a week later, Uvalde happened and I found myself crying because my students are the same age those kids were. When they came in after school the next day, one of them had asked me if I had heard about Uvalde and I told her I had, I asked her if she was scared of going to school because of it. Her reply broke my heart. “We practice for it every week so that when it happens to us, we know what to do. I’m just worried that the shooter is going to start in my baby sister’s classroom and not mine.” I listened as other students with younger siblings agreed with her, one of them saying “I would take fifty bullets, if I had to to keep my little brother safe.”

Early this year, I watched Russia launched bombs into Ukraine, blowing up churches and schools and hospitals and apartment buildings. I watched as the estimated death count rose from the hundreds to the thousands to the tens of thousands. I watched men send their wives and children to bordering countries for refuge while they stayed behind to fight, knowing they would probably never see each other again.

Just four months ago, I watched as my right to medical privacy got taken away. I watched my old roommate fall apart because she was denied the right to have her dead fetus removed from her body for almost two days, I worried every time I looked away from her that the next time I saw her would be in a casket. I watched as the women around me realized the military-grade weapons that had torn children in classrooms apart were protected by the government but our bodies weren’t.

There is nothing “wrong” with my generation, we’ve experienced all these things as children and were expected to respond with patriotism for a country that continuously sacrificed their children for the “right” to military-grade weapons, that took away my freedom of choice. We are tired, we were told the world was a wonderful place then shown, at every step, how the world was a place of destruction and pain. And we are angry. We are angry because no one but us seems to be trying to fix anything. And we are scared. We are scared because our children, our nieces and nephews, our cousins and our friends children are growing up in a world that won’t protect them.

[gingiesworld]

Hot Milf’s Kitten

MILF Wanda Maximoff x Fem Reader

Warnings: Smut. Strap on use. Dom Mommy Wanda. Sub Kitten Reader.

Word Count: 2.6k+

Taglist : @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff @bimad (if you want to be added to my taglist, please DM me or comment)

18+ MINORS DNI

It was no secret that Wanda was promiscuous, even with two 10 year old boys who live with her throughout the school week. It gave her time as she asked her best friend's sister for help around the house on the weekend, as a way to earn extra money for the repairs that Wanda had no knowledge about.

“So, my fridge has been making this awful sound.” Wanda informed Y/N who just listened as Nat was making some drinks. “I figured you might know something about it while studying engineering?”

“I can have a look at it on Saturday, if that’s ok with you?” She asked her as Wanda smiled.

“That’s perfect.” She gave the younger woman’s knee a squeeze. “Just come by anytime, I’ll be home all day.”

“You need to meet someone, Wanda.” Nat said as she placed the drinks down. “You aren’t getting any younger.”

“I think she’s aging like a fine wine.” Y/N blurted out, making Yelena laugh through her nose. “What?” She questioned the blonde, completely missing the blush forming on the older woman’s cheeks. It was no secret to Yelena that Y/N had the biggest crush on Wanda, but she would never do anything to ruin Wanda’s friendship with Nat.

“Actually, come by on Friday evening, you can have a look at it and I’ll make you something to eat.” Wanda told her firmly as she stood up, Nat looked at her friend worried in case she had crossed a line.

“Of course.” Y/N nodded with a smile as Wanda left the house, Nat following behind her.

“Wanda, are you ok?” She asked as she followed Wanda to her car.

“I have to pick up the twins.” She told her as she unlocked the door.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but I really think you should put yourself out there again.” Nat told her. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy.” Wanda told her. “I just need to concentrate on Billy and Tommy.”

“Come on, you still have the fattest crush on her.” Yelena teased Y/N as she followed the younger one to her room.

“And?” She replied as she turned to face her. “It’s not like anything will ever happen because I am still in college.”

“You’re 24.” Yelena corrected her.

“And Wanda is 37, she will not go for someone who is 13 years younger.” Y/N told her as she turned around to get her paper out. “I need to finish this for monday.” She told her sister who just nodded, leaving her be as she worked on her thesis.

Wanda spent the rest of the week thinking about what Y/N had said. She remembered Y/N had had a crush on her since they were younger, it was something she had always deemed as cute but now she wonders what it will be like to be with her. To use Y/N for her own personal needs.

“I have made sure that Billy has a spare inhaler.” Wanda told Jarvis when he came to pick up the twins for the weekend. “Also, Tommy has a soccer match on Sunday at lunch time.”

“I know.” He spoke tiredly as the twins waited tiredly by the door. Wanda gave the twins a kiss on the cheek and a hug before they left with their father, leaving Wanda to clean the house before Y/N arrived. She took a deep breath as there was a knock on the door. When she opened it, she gave Y/N a nervous smile as she answered the door.

“So, the fridge.” Y/N spoke up, breaking the awkward silence between the two of them.

“Yes.” She stepped aside, letting Y/N inside before leading her into the kitchen. “It’s making this whirring sound, it’s very faint but I have sensitive ears and it is very annoying.”

“I’ll take a look at it now and see what tools I’ll need to bring tomorrow.” Y/N told her. Wanda watched as Y/N moved the fridge out to have a look at the motor behind it. She bit her lip as she could hear Y/N mumble to herself, most likely taking mental notes of how she could fix it. After what felt like forever, Y/N finally came out from behind, moving it back to its spot. “It’s just a simple fix, I have my tool box in my car and I can fix it now if you’d like.”

“Are you sure?” Wanda asked her as she nodded.

“Of course.” Y/N was fast to leave to retrieve her tools before getting straight to work. Wanda busied herself by making some food for the two of them while Y/N had worked. She was soon broken out of her thoughts when Y/N had pushed the fridge back. “How does it sound now?” Y/N asked Wanda as the two remained silent for a moment.

“I can’t hear it.” She whispered with a smile. “Thank you so much.” She wrapped her arms around Y/N’s shoulders, hugging her tightly before pulling away slightly, looking into the younger woman’s eyes for a moment. “How did you grow up so beautifully?” She whispered as she caressed Y/N’s cheek.

“I don’t know.” Y/N answered nervously, all of a sudden her mouth was dry as Wanda’s gaze shot to her lips. “I guess I was lucky.” Wanda shook her head no as their noses touched.

“I guess I just have never seen you like this before.” Wanda whispered as Y/N raised a questioning brow. “You were always my best friend’s little sister and now.” Her voice trailed off as her hands moved slowly round Y/N’s neck to her chest.

“Now what?” Y/N asked as Wanda sighed as Y/N pressed her body closer to Wanda’s.

“As someone who can make me scream.” Wanda told her seductively, giving Y/N a go ahead to kiss her roughly. Wanda moaned as she was pushed against the opposite counter, her hands gripping Y/N’s shirt as the two made out like horny teenagers. “Fingers.” Wanda gasped as Y/N started to kiss and suck her neck. “I need your fingers.” Y/N kept ignoring her words so Wanda grabbed a fistful of Y/N’s hair, pulling her face away, a smirk grew on her face as Y/N moaned at the action. “On your knees.” Wanda ordered her as Y/N did as she was told, watching as Wanda undone her bottoms. Wanda smirked as Y/N licked her lips. “Mommy needs your help.” Wanda pulled down her jeans and underwear in one go. “Can you do that for me, kitten? Can you help me with that pretty mouth?”

All Y/N could do was nod as Wanda ran her fingers through Y/N’s hair. Y/N inhaled the arousal that was dripping down Wanda’s thighs before diving in. Licking a strip through her folds before she sucked on Wanda’s clit. Her arms wrapped around Wanda’s thighs as Wanda’s moans filled the kitchen, Wanda’s hand keeping Y/N’s head in place as she worked.

“Fuck.” Wanda moaned as Y/N inserted two fingers, keeping her lips wrapped around Wanda’s bundle of nerves. “Right there.” She cried out as her legs started to shake, thighs clenching around Y/N’s head as she increased her speed as she added a third finger. “Y/N!” Wanda screamed as she came, feeling Y/N’s tongue as she cleaned her up. Once Y/N had come out for air, Wanda pulled her up and kissed her roughly, moaning as she tasted herself on Y/N’s tongue. “I am going to have so much fun with you kitten.” She whispered before the doorbell rang. Quickly getting herself ready before she left the kitchen to answer the door to her neighbour.

“Oh, hi Y/N.” Agatha beamed, greeting the younger woman who approached with her toolbox.

“Hi.” She then turned to Wanda. “Your fridge is fixed.”

“Wait here, let me get the money for you.” Wanda grazed her arm as Y/N shook her head.

“It’s ok Wanda.” She told her. “I really have to go.”

“I’ll drop it off with Nat tomorrow.” Wanda smiled at the younger woman before she left, soon allowing Agatha inside.

“So, Wanda and I are also going out tonight so we will probably see you guys.” Nat told both Yelena and Y/N who groaned. It had been weeks since Y/N had fixed the fridge and now every week, Wanda says there is a new job just so she and Y/N can have some of their own fun.

“Seriously? Don’t make a show because I am trying to pull someone.” Yelena stated as Y/N smirked.

“So, you’re finally going to make a move on Kate?” She questioned with a raised brow.

“Are you going to finally make a move on Wanda?” She challenged as Nat was the one to laugh.

“I haven’t heard that in years.” Both Yelena and Y/N turned to face her. “We both used to think your crush on her was cute, although it would be fucked up if you still had a crush on her considering she has watched you grow up.” With that she left as Yelena gave Y/N a sad smile, handing her her jacket before the two left to meet their friends.

Once the two had separated, Y/N had found Carol, Sharon and Bucky. The four of them greet each other with a round of shots. As the night wore on, everyone started to loosen up and started to dance, Sharon dragged Y/N to the dancefloor, grinding on her just as Wanda walked through the door with Nat.

“Please don’t tell me they’re fucking again.” Nat groaned as Wanda’s eyes landed on Y/N and Sharon. Jealousy burned within as she watched Sharon grind on her kitten.

“Let’s get a drink.” Wanda dragged Nat over to the bar, ordering themselves a drink as Carol sauntered over.

“Hey Nat.” She smirked at the older woman. “How are you sweets?” She asked as Wanda tried not to laugh as Nat blushed lightly.

“I am ok.” Nat answered quickly before taking a big sip of her drink. “How are you?” She asked the younger woman who’s fingers now danced on Natasha’s shoulder.

“I am even better now your beautiful self is here.” She flirted as Wanda rolled her eyes, watching as Sharon disappeared towards the bathroom. Wanda walked over to Y/N who started to dance with another girl on the dancefloor. She soon moved in front of Y/N and started to grind on her.

“Who was that?” Wanda asked as she turned around, pulling on Y/N’s jacket.

“That was Sharon, she’s just a friend.” Y/N told her honestly.

“It seemed like she was more.” Wanda told her firmly. “And that was also something that Natasha had mentioned too.”

“Seriously?” Y/N scoffed before heading for the exit, Wanda hot on her tail.

“Where are you going?” Wanda asked her as she wrapped her arms around herself as to shield herself from the cold.

“Home.” Y/N answered bluntly.

“You can’t leave on your own.” Wanda told her. “Your sisters and friends will worry about you.”

“I’m sure they are all occupied,Wanda.” She told her firmly, Wanda just scoffed before she approached Y/N, gripping her jaw as she forced the younger woman to look into her eyes.

“I expect to be shown respect, kitten.” She growled as Y/N gulped. “Will you show mommy some respect?”

“Yes.” Y/N answered.

“Yes what?” Wanda raised a brow.

“Yes mommy.” Y/N whimpered as Wanda soon flagged down a cab, sending a quick message to Nat, explaining that she didn’t feel up to being out.

As the driver drove to Wanda’s house, the two made out in the backseat like a couple of teens. Once the driver was paid, Wanda dragged Y/N inside and up to her bedroom.

“Strip.” She ordered her, sitting on the edge of the bed as Y/N disposed of her clothes, soon standing before her completely nude. Wanda stood up and turned her back to her. “Unzip me.” Y/N did as she was told, helping the older woman strip. Once Wanda stood before Y/N, looking up into her eyes as her fingers danced on the skin of the younger woman. “You know, I don’t think I have ever felt this alive as I do with you.” She moved away to get something from her nightstand. “I know we have only used our fingers and tongues, but I have had dreams.” She helped Y/N with the harness. “Not so innocent ones of you fucking me with this strap.” She slapped Y/N’s ass before massaging it. “Will you fuck mommy, kitten? Fuck mommy until she can’t take it no more.”

“Yes mommy.” Y/N kissed Wanda roughly, her arms wrapping around the older woman as she walked her towards the bed, pushing her down on her back before she started to attack the older woman’s neck, kissing and biting wherever she could. Wanda’s moans filled the room as Y/N sucked harshly on her nipples as the toy massaged her clit as their hips mildly grinded together.

“Fuck me.” She ordered Y/N who did as she was told. Inserting the full length of the toy, making Wanda’s hold on her tighten as she started to thrust her hips, pulling out just to slam right back in. Wanda’s screams in pleasure only spurred her on as she soon increased her pace. “I’m so close.” Wanda mewled as Y/N continued her movements, wanting to keep her happy. Soon enough Wanda screamed as she came, smiling as Y/N kissed her softly as she pulled out, only to push Y/N on her back as she straddled her stomach. “You have a mess to clean.” With that, she lined her already dripping core with Y/N’s face, lowering herself down as Y/N’s arms wrapped around her legs, using her tongue as Wanda used her face as she wanted. Holding onto the headboard, her second orgasm fast approached as she was sensitive from the first orgasm. “OH Y/N!!!” She screamed as she came, Y/N lapped up every drop before the older woman collapsed beside her, helping Y/N remove the strap before she cuddled up to her. The two lay in silence for a moment before Y/N spoke up.

“What does this mean to you?” She asked the older woman, her voice laced with raw vulnerability.

“I don’t know.” She whispered as she held onto Y/N’s hand, playing with her fingers. “When it happened the first time, it was just supposed to be some sort of release for me.” She looked up into Y/N’s eyes. “I guess it’s more than just that because I am falling for you and I am so scared.”

“I’m afraid too.” Y/N confessed. “I have always had this pull towards you and I only understand now that it is love. I am in love with you Wanda, and I am afraid that you may never return my feelings.” Wanda kissed her tenderly before gazing into her eyes tenderly.

“I do.” Wanda told her sincerely. “I am in love with you, Y/N. I guess I have been since the moment you fixed my kitchen window.”

“That was almost a year ago.” She chuckled as Wanda nodded.

“I guess I was afraid.” She whispered as she yawned. “I had never been with a woman before and then you came home.” Y/N kissed the top of Wanda's head as she pulled the comforter over the two of them. Wanda sighed as she snuggled in further to Y/N who wrapped her protective arms around the older woman, falling asleep with smiles on their faces.