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yeonzzzn · 2 months

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can’t help but to think about jake being your family’s car washer, shirtless in the garage, sweat all over his face and dripping down his abs, panting due to extreme fatigue. You can’t help but stare at him as he noticed how you’re drooling over his naked body and how you practically eye fuck him. And of course, who is he to ignore your stares as he walk towards you and made you touch his exposed chests and abs, which leads to the both of you fucking on every car you have in the garage. 🥵

As one of the best writer here in this app, I request you to continue this 🤭 I love your fics btw and thank you for interacting with me 😫

HOLY FUCKING SHHIIIITTTTTTTTT YOUR BRAIN IS CHEF KISS ON G O D. I am so in love with this scenario like just imagining shirtless, sweaty, wet, and soapy jake fucking you on the clean car he just finished washing, leaving soapy stains and hand prints all over the hood…and THANK YOU for requesting this🤭 I am happy you put me into the category as one of the best writers…it gave me a hella ego boost fr fr!! this one is for you bae 😘🩷

jake x afab!reader word count: 2.2k

Ever since your family hired Jake as their personal car washer, you’ve struggled to keep your eyes to yourself.

You thought the idea of your family even hiring someone for such a job was, in fact, stupid. Completely ludicrous. Why hire someone to wash your cars when there are LITERAL car washes to drive your car through? Or ya know, the hands of the family members doing it

You guessed since your family had money to blow and not enough time on their hands, hiring Jake was something they wanted. You couldn’t argue with your parents, not when they are paying for your college and letting you live at home still rent-free…who were you to complain?

Obviously, the first few times Jake came to wash the cars, you’d scrunch your nose at him, purposely getting in your car and driving away, making his job harder on him. You didn’t care at first, you thought this idea was stupid and a waste of money when you could just wash your car yourself.

But it wasn’t until you took a nap after class completely forgot Jake was scheduled to wash the cars. Hearing the sound of water from the hose hitting the hoods of one of the cars that you jolted from your bed and quickly rushed to the window peeking behind the blinds, seeing Jake bent over your father's car, clothes completely soaked and soapy with the massive sponge in hand as he cleaned the hood.

You are filled with anger after seeing your car was moved and parked in the grass, seeing it was already cleaned.

Jake wasn’t stupid, he knew you hated him even if it was for reasons unknown, not that he even cared, he was getting paid bank to wash four cars once every week. So when he arrived for his scheduled time and saw your car parked in the garage…oh the sweet shenanigans that filled his brain.

He’d knock on the front door like he does every time, smiling at your mother’s face when she opened the door for him, her earpiece attached to her ear showing that she was in the middle of a meeting. She smiled at him, raising her index finger to her lips and giving him a wink, waving him inside to grab the keys.

Jake grabbed the keys from the key bowl your family kept beside the garage door, his smirk growing ever more wide at seeing your keys sitting there.

So Jake washed your car first, pulling it from the garage. He didn’t even put the seat back into place after he was done like he normally would. He wanted to make your life hell the next time you sat in your car. Wanting to give him side-eyes, scrunched nose, and nasty looks every time you saw him? He’ll play your game. He even moved all the mirrors so you’d have to move them back and purposely leave your car parked in the grass in the front lawn knowing once you put two and two together you’d either rush outside to yell at him or stare at him from the second floor in your bedroom.

But you took too long to notice him, and he went ahead and started on your father’s car.

The early summer heat was making Jake exhausted. He was soaked, had soap literally everywhere, and could feel the sweat dripping down his face and body. He flung his head back, closing his eyes and furrowing his eyebrows cursing the heat. But when he opened his eyes and saw you staring down at him from your bedroom…the game was back on.

Jake dropped the sponge into the water bucket, eyes going back to you and keeping eye contact as his fingers reached for the ends of his shirt, slowly lifting it above and over his head and dropping it onto the ground.

You quickly looked away from the window, slamming your back against the wall, hands slapping against your face.

Oh god, he’s hotter than I thought.

Since then, you didn’t mind Jake being around. You purposely started putting reminders into your phone on the days Jake would show up.

You always found Jake attractive, but that day he took his shirt off…it sent you to another world you didn’t think was possible. You were so angry at your parents for hiring him, but now all you did was thank them.

At first, you tried to hide that you were watching him, but he’d catch you every single time. And as the seasons changed from spring to summer, the less clothes Jake started to wear.

Again, he wasn’t an idiot. Jake knew you were eye fucking him every chance you got. You stopped being so secret at watching him. Giving every excuse in the book to walk into the garage to “grab something” or “get something from your car before he washes it”. It boosted his ego every single time knowing that you wanted him. He purposely started showing up wearing tighter shirts to tight tank tops that showed off his toned arms. Tighter shorts that gave away completely that man is packing.

Jake obviously thought you were hot too and he couldn’t deny that fact he’s thought about dicking you down against every single car in the garage. Imagining how completely dumb he’d have you on his cock.

And he finally was given that opportunity.

It was one of the hottest days of the week. Jake took off his tank top to cool himself off for once instead of doing it to make you tremble. But it worked in his favor as he walked into the garage to cool and dry off before moving the final car back into the garage, and you walked out.

Jake stopped halfway into the garage, eyeing you up and down.

You were wearing a white crop tank top that hugged your breasts perfectly. Jake loved the fact you weren’t wearing a bra, noticing quickly how your nipples poked through. And oh GOD he noticed how tight your shorts were, hugging your thighs and pushing up in between your pussy’s lips, showing off the outline. Jake could only imagine how good your ass looked in those shorts, silently begging that you’d give him an excuse to grab something and turn around so he could see the view.

“Oh uhhh…” you said, eyes scanning his body and stopping at his abs. You weren’t expecting to see him in the garage, clearly already finished his job. Every excuse you had to use was thrown out the window, “Finished already?”

Jake chuckled slowly walking towards you, “Since when have you cared when I’ve…finished?”

Jake was getting too close to you, well not too close to the point you didn’t like it, you obviously wanted him closer, but you weren’t prepared for it at this moment.

“I uhh…” you tried to search for the right things to say, any excuse you could say. At this point any bullshit. You’ve only ever stared at him from a distance, talked to him in passing so you could stare at him. These were the consequences of your actions.

“Use your words, baby,” Jake said, his body now inches away from yours, chuckles escaping his mouth, “What? You were so vocal about how much you hated me when we first met, why so quiet now?”

Because you’re the hottest human being I’ve ever met

You just slightly shrugged, still trying to find literally anything to say.

“I said,” he whispered, his wet, soapy hands grabbing both of yours and blessing them on his wet, soapy, sweaty chest, “Use your words,”

You tried to not moan out just from touching him. The warmth of his chest was enough to send your whole body temperature skyrocketing. Your eyes wander down to his chest, watching as the water mixed with his sweat rolled down his body, how his chest raised and fell, feeling how fast his heart was racing.

You slid your hands down his chest, stopping at the top of his abs, letting your fingers trace around them.

Just from your touch, Jake was already rock hard. He wanted nothing more than to drag you up the stairs and bend you over your bed, face pressed so deep into the sheets while he railed you from behind. But he couldn’t get up the stairs without passing your parent’s shared office. The garage would have to do.

Jake wasted no time flying his hands to your waist and pressing you to him, his lips pressing aggressively with yours.

Your thighs rubbed together at feeling him against you. You wanted him. Oh god did you want him.

Jake mapped out the garage in his mind, looking for a place he could fuck you without making anyone in the house take notice of it.

And there was only one place he could think.

Jake quickly twisted you around, your back being pressed against the hood of your car. The water and soap from Jake’s body were now seeping into your clothes, making them soaked.

Jake groaned at your now wet shirt, your nipples showing through completely and he didn’t even have to remove your shirt for it.

Jake’s lips found yours again, his fingers sliding down to your heat, rubbing it gently. You were already so soaked and he barely touched you.

“Fuck baby girl, already so wet for me?” he smirked against your lips, “Already so needy for my cock.”

You quickly nodded, wanting to feel more than just his fingers rub against your cunt.

“Use your words, we’re both adults here,”

You now wanted to beat the shit out of him. Jake was loving this, loved the way you scrunched your nose at him teasing you.

“Fuck me, Jake.”

Jake took your wrists in his hands, pinning your hands above you, “Where are your manners?” he rubbed his clothed hard dick against your cunt, “Only good girls get what they want.”

You wanted to roll your eyes, wanted to be a brat, but didn’t want to test Jake’s patience.

“Fuck me please Jakey,”

Jake groaned at the nickname, his hand going back down to your folds and sliding your shorts to the side and pushing his wet shorts down far enough to release his throbbing cock.

You bit your lip at the sight of his cock, your pussy clenching around nothing at the anticipation of him fucking you.

Jake lined himself up with you, then pushed himself in.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you, pushing him deeper inside of you.

“Fuck you feel so good,” he moaned in your ear, having to steady his hands at the side of your head to help fuck into you, “Fantasized so much on how good your pussy would feel wrapped around me.”

You had to bite down on your lip to keep your moans from escaping, not wanting to get caught.

Jake had other plans.

His hand reached up to your chin, fingers pulling your lip from your teeth and spreading your mouth open, “Oh no sweet thing,” he growled, “You’ve been so vocal before, you aren’t going to go quiet now.”

He fucked into your harder, faster, making the car beneath you two shake at his pace, “Moan for me. Moan my name, use that pretty voice of yours.”

You tilted your head to the side, attaching your lips to his ear, moaning out his name.

If you were going to be vocal, it was going to directly be in his ear. And oh man Jake was loving it.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” he groans, his fingers trying to keep their grips on the hood from how wet and sweaty he was, from the soap that covered his body making it hard to keep in place. But he didn’t care. He was balls deep inside you, you were moaning his name like it was the only word you could speak. He was in heaven fucking an angel.

Jake didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to last, your tight cunt was sucking him so good and he was so pussy drunk he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop until he was unloading himself into you. His climax was fast approaching, but he’d be damned if he came before you.

His hand flew to your cunt, thumb rubbing circles against your clit and his lips sucking on your soft spot just below your ear and jaw, “Cum for me baby,”

Your pussy clenched around him, the sensation and the magic of his fingers was sending you over the edge. Your hands gripped the hood of your car the best they could as you released onto him.

“Oh fuck yeah,” he moaned biting your skin, his thrusts slowly coming to a stop as he made one final push, painting your gummy walls white.

Jake placed a kiss on your forehead before pulling out of you and setting your shorts back into place.

Fuck you were a sight to see, looking so fucked out against your car that he just finished washing that now had your and his hand prints all over the hood.

Damn, guess he now has an excuse to have to come back over tomorrow to “wash it again” or better yet fuck you against it and every car in this garage.

And by the look on your face, Jake knew you were thinking the same thing.

#jake bby #sim jake #sim jaeyun #jake x reader #reader x jake #sim jaeyun x reader #reader x sim jaeyun #sim jake smut #enhypen #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smut #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fanfic #enhypen imagines #yeonzzzn writing #yeonzzzn asks

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sim0nril3y · 3 months

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Meet the Family

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: Simon has the joy of meeting your family and finding out why don't you see or talk about them all that much. This brings up some unwanted memories and feelings for him too. Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), family drama, shouting, very small mention of Simon's childhood, family disapproval, family arguing, reader has family, reader has siblings, family names are established but no descriptions, canon-typical swearing.

It appeared that your phone was making more of a ruckus than usual later. It seemed to buzz and beep much more frequently, each time your eyes cast down to check it they narrowed, then rolled before you pushed the device far, far away from where you had to interact with it. Yet still it actively vied for your attention. “Everything okay, babe?” Simon quizzed, pulling the cork out of the wine he’d chosen and beginning to pour you a glass. “Fine.” You short answer replied, picking up the glass and taking a large gulp.

Taking a seat opposite Simon battled internally about whether to push this conversation anymore. He wondered, if the situation was reversed if you would have tried to get more information out of him. Bloody hell. You would. “I just couldn’t help but notice you seemed a little… upset by your phone.” Nodding his head in the direction of the device. “Is something up?”

For a moment you paused, mauling over the situation for a moment before letting out a low huff and answering. “My sister is having a ‘get-together’ for her anniversary…” You announced with a heavy amount of disdain in your voice. “We’ve been invited.” Of course, you’d mentioned your family before but until this point Simon had never met them and the opportunity had never been there. “Honestly, I’m surprised I’m invited Anna said it’ll just be close family…”

“Well, I guess you count as close family considering you’re her sister, love.” Simon pointed out and you let out a low huff again. “Who else is going to be there?” “My mum and dad. My little brother Peter. Obviously, my older sister Anna, her husband Barney and their son Hunter.” Simon couldn’t help but frown at that. It would be a lot of your family to meet at once. “And do you… want to go?”

Again, you didn’t have a response right away, eyes darting away before back towards him. “I… I don’t know…” Then shaking your head. “Anna is begging me to come, but I know that is only to get the heat off her because if I’m there then all my parent’s attention will fall to me and they will explain exactly where I’ve gone wrong with my life.” Simon couldn’t help but frown at that comment, he didn’t like the thought of your family speaking poorly of you. A heavy sigh escaped your mouth. “Would… you want to go?” The question came out tiny and vulnerable, like you might scare him off with that alone.

“They know about me?” Simon quizzed, he’d never met them and he’d never really pressed to do that, he was in love with you and that was all he needed in his life. “They do…” You replied evenly. “They don’t approve... It isn’t because of you.” You quickly add with wide eyes. “They don’t approve of anyone outside of the family. They hated any girl that Peter brought home and they tolerate Barney, but that is only because they gave them a grandchild to fawn over.” You explained before frowning. “Si, I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to come…”

For a moment he mauled over his options, he could go and accept whatever snide comments and berating came from your family, or he could send you to the wolves and stay home like a coward. Simon Riley was not a coward. “Tell her we’ll be there.” He leaned over to clink his glass against her own.

It was a bit of a drive to Anna’s home she shared with her husband and their son, but that gave you plenty of time to fill in all the dirty details about your family. You had started with your older sister, she was seen as the golden child and your parents bragged about almost everything that she did, her perfect marriage, her perfect children, her perfect house and her perfect holiday home. You explained, Anna had gone to a top University to study finance, but during her gap year galivanting about the US she’d met Barney who’d promptly fallen in love with her and got her pregnant. This wouldn’t typically be too big of a problem, apart from the fact that Anna been engaged before setting off and in a desperate need to escape the monotony of her relationship and her perfect life she’d thrown it all away from another lad.

It was a blow to her parents that their perfect eldest daughter had this mishap, however the fact that Barney came from an incredibly wealthy family and owned his own tech company certainly helped ease him into the family. Then their grandson Hunter came into the picture and everything was a perfect ending from there.

On the other hand, there was your younger brother Peter who had barely scraped by in his school and your parents had to persuade Universities to accept him. He spent more times in clubs than in his classes. Your parents saw him as a typical boy, causing some trouble and chasing the ladies. Boys will be boys; they’d excused with a hearty laugh as Peter would be trotted to the cells for indecent exposer or public indecency. Still even after all the trouble he’d caused Peter was still the apple of their eyes, your mother fawned over him and your father tried moulding him into his protégé.

Then there was you. With a sister that was perfect and a brother that they dotted on that left very little time or energy for you. It seemed like you just slipped through the cracks. Even when they did have time spare for you every decision, you’d made they hadn’t approved. In their eyes, you were simply the wild little fuck-up. It pained and riled Simon that anyone thought of you as anything but perfect and good and kind.

Once they arrived at your sisters’ home Simon was surprised to find that it was an expensive looking townhouse that had been renovated to have some modern features. This strangle matched the dreamhouse that you’d muttered to him one night in your post-sex chatter, it made Simon wonder who had desired the house first, maybe it was you and Anna had simply stolen that dream to taunt you. Approached the modern frosted glass door, it opened and out stepped an older woman with a disguised smile on her face, dressed in a smart, conservative dress with sharp kitten heels. Your hand squeezed his own as you approached, announcing nicely. “Mum…” Ah, your mother, Cynthia…

“Hello darling.” Her voice was soft but hiding something, like a sickly sweet venom that was encasing you both. You had mentioned that she was high strung and highly critical, that remained to be seen. If there was one thing that Cynthia enjoyed in life it was gossiping, followed by bragging about her family, or at least some of her family members, certainly not you, you’d joked to Simon but there was a pained reality to that snide remark. “Look at you, that is certainly an interesting dress…” She observed, cupping your face then. “You look very tired, are you sleeping well?” The snide remarks had already begun, Simon observed.

You complained lowly. “Mum…” Then looked towards Simon, eyes pleading for some form of help or safety or escape but only found his own dark set that matched your own fear. “This is-” Cynthia cut you off and turned her viper grin towards at him, those dangerous eyes scanned him and searched for any little weakness or vulnerability. “This must be Simon.” Cynthia let out an almost cynical laugh. “Now, I must ask your sister to set another place, we weren’t sure that you were real…” It was another little dig that made you wince.

Cynthia then allowed the two of you to follow her further into the house, a lounge area stood before them and three men lingered inside of it. An older man sat on the sofa, drink in hand and head drooping, another around Simon’s age stood behind a small make-shift bar, cleaning glasses and straightening bottles of the labels faced out and proud and then across the room a younger man was texting on his phone. “Simon, make yourself comfortable with the men. That is my husband, Harold. This is my son-in-law, Barney.” Cynthia even gifted him a snide smile, the same she had done to Simon, they were outsiders after all, not as important as blood, simply there to give her grandchildren. “And that is my son Peter~”

Turning to you and lowering her voice, Cynthia said. “Darling, don’t worry that you didn’t bring a present, your sister understands that you don’t make a lot of money-” “N-no, I just left it at home.” You attempted to explain but your mother just chortled lowly and squeezed your shoulder. “Oh, I’m sure… just like how Peter ate all your Christmas chocolate when you were 10, hmm?” Then she poked your tummy in jest. “But I think we all know where it went.”

Simon forced himself to grit his teeth, looking between and watching you purse your lips, accepting the vicious attack with a tight smile and glossy eyes. “Now, don’t make that face~” Cynthia smirked directly at you, as if knowing she was pushing your buttons. “Come, your sister will want some help in the kitchen, I’m sure you’ll survive being apart from your boyfriend for five minutes, hmm?” Then looking towards Simon and asking. “You won’t mind if I borrow her, will you?”

More than anything he wanted to deny her, snatch you up into his side and away from anymore of her cruel remarks, but her claw-like hands were already circling you and tugging you from the room before he had a chance. The next moment, a presence walked up behind him and Simon turned to see a very happy looking man stood there. “Hey man…” A thick American accent rolled from him. “My name is Barney, you must be Simon, right?” He was quick to shake his hand and comment. “Quite the grip there, you play golf?”

Shaking his head Simon followed him back to where he’d been lingering (or probably hiding) behind his bar. “Do you drink, man? What’s your poison?” Barney asked enthusiastically, very proudly gesturing to the array of bottles that were placed behind the bar, squeaky clean but hardly used. “Whiskey. Neat.” Then leaning against the bar and waiting for it to be made. Another approached, this time your brother, tucking his phone away into his pocket as he sidled up beside him, elbows resting on the bar too, matching him stance for stance. “Simon, right? The latest addition to our fucked up little family.” Peter commented, his tone just as snide as his mother’s – the apple didn’t fall far, he supposed. “I’m sure my sister told you all about me…”

“She mentioned a few things…” Simon answered evenly, reaching out to take the offered drink from Barney, drinking it down a little too quickly to appear casual. Bloody hell, he’d been on battlefields and felt less anxious. “Well, I’ve got a few stories about my sister that I’m sure you’ll want to hear too~” The young lad began before Simon glanced in his direction, testing and bothered by his presence.

Sensing the impending tension Barney let out a hearty chuckle and said. “Maybe another time, huh?” Then giving Peter a pointed look. “Simon… what do you do for a job?” He asked in a friendly enough way, this seemed to catch the attention of Harold who actually glanced in his direction, quietly accessing and judging, it felt like you were the only normal one to actually come out of this family. “I’m in the special forces.” Simon explained, keeping his answers short and sweet, not allowing too many details to slip out, it wouldn’t be professional. They all had different reactions to this little piece of information. Peter quirked a brow whilst Barney grinned and nodded. “That’s tight. Respect, man.”

“A solider…” Peter muttered. “Lieutenant, actually.” Simon corrected in a sharp tone. There wasn’t many things in life he was proud about but you and his career were among the only few.

Again, your brother seemed to stir from beside him. “So…” Looking at him, wanting to judge Simon’s reaction. “How many people you killed?” The question was so crass that it actually made Barney gasp before letting out a nervous laugh and saying. “Pete, I’m not sure you can ask questions like that, man…” Then another laugh before giving his brother-in-law a soft punch on the shoulder, followed by a pointed look, don’t push.

There was this clear power struggle that Peter was trying to win. This happened often with rich boys like your brother, they saw Simon as a threat because he was physically much more impending than them, feeling even worse when they discovered that Simon wasn’t as dumb as they thought he looked.

“Not something that I keep count of…” Simon answered keeping his face straight, remaining unbothered. It was a good answer, it was formal and dignified, not to mention filled with some honesty. It wasn’t like Simon could even keep count anymore, even if he had wanted to. Peter seemed unimpressed with that answer and simply huffed before saying. “Bet you could think of at least five different ways to kill me in here, right?” Again, this spiked the interest of Harold, glancing in their direction.

Another challenge. Another prod. Another opportunity to attempt to make Simon look unhinged. Attempting to break the tension Barney laughed awkwardly. “This joker-” “I could think at least ten.” Simon retorted, dark eyes watching Peter to see that smugness falter for just a moment as true fear sank in. From across the room for just a split second Harold smirked then it washed away as he finished his fifth drink of the night.

The room was thick with an air of tension as you stepped inside looking completely flustered. “It’s uh… it’s time for dinner.” You informed them, frowning as you tried to access the atmosphere, approaching Simon to rest a delicate hand on his forearm, wrapping yourself around the limb. The room cleared out as Barney escorted his in-laws to his dinning room. Gazing up at Simon, you asked. “You alright?”

Simon’s eyes seemed to focus on where Peter had been escorted from the room, watching that area on alert for a few moments before his gaze flittered back in your direction. “Told your brother I could think of ten ways to kill him in this room alone…”

You blinked. Slow and calculating. Attempting to understand the words that Simon had just rushed in your direction. “Excuse me?” You muttered, staring up into his eyes in confusion. “Why… why would you say-” “He was pushing me.” There was an edge of frustration to his tone. You brother had gotten under Simon’s skin a lot more than he was willing to admit aloud. Reaching up you cupped his face and looked into his eyes with such care and sincerity, it really did pain you to witness your family treating him in a way that left him so anxious and wound up. “I believe you.” You whispered. “I believe you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. My fucking family… It’s my family, they make it their mission to push and prod and make your life misery. I’m sorry-”

A short huff came from Simon, leaning in to kiss your forehead gently and replying. “You don’t ever apologies for any of them.” He told you, voice firm and sure. There was no part of this that was your fault. You were born into a family of cynical fakers, wanting to make everyone else’s lives as miserable as their own. He hadn’t even been around them for an hour yet, but Simon could see that you were the only good thing to come from your family. He could force himself to survive the rest of the dinner party for you… but when this was over, he never wanted to see these people again.

“Come on, now…” Your mothers voice entered the lounge and she lingered in the doorway, big fake smile on her lips and glass of wine in hand. “You were late to the party and now you’ll be late for dinner too…” Cynthia chortled, clearly still holding that grudge. “I swear, my darling girl would be late to her own funeral too…” The comment was made as she swayed down the hallway towards the dining room, Simon simply grit his teeth and continued to bite his tongue. A few more hours, he reminded himself constantly.

The dinner that was severed was nice enough. Honestly, the only cooking that you actually enjoyed nowadays was anything that Simon served up for you and it was something he was more than happy to take care of for you. It was mundane and simple and peaceful, just for some time he could force his noisy brain to shut off, it simply wasn’t warfare.

You sat beside him, food pushing around your plate, probably each little biting comment from your mother stripped away any hunger from you. Cynthia had persuaded your siblings to list all their recent achievements to you, which they seemed all too happy to do. Maybe they knew that if all that vitriol that poured from your mother was aimed at you, then they’d continue to escape it… or maybe they enjoyed it because they were just as cruel as she was.

“Are you enjoying the food?” Cynthia quirked a soft brow at Simon, it was a strange observation but Simon noted that your mother wore a face so similar to your own, maybe more than the rest of your siblings but not even one of your expressions matched. There was so much pure and true joy and easiness in your smile, but each time your mother did the same it seemed like it might crack her face into tiny pieces. “I’m sure you aren’t used to a good homecooked meal, hmm?” Then laughing lowly. “Especially with this one’s cooking…” Pointing a fork in your direction.

“It’s fine.” Simon responded evenly, clearly not to exaggerated praise that your mother had been expecting, simply narrowing her eyes and taking back another gulp of wine. “I like to cook for us…” His hand then rests on your knee beneath the table, reminding you that you weren’t alone facing your horrid family, but that Simon had your back. “Between the two of us, I have more time to cook, anyway.” Then he shrugged, gazing in your direction and seeing your desperation to find safety and warmth within him. “With all the hours that she works and then the time she spends on her art, I like to keep her fed…” Too afraid to continue aloud, Simon thought, keep her warm, provided for her, keep her happy, keep her satisfied. Just… keep her.

A deep scoff came from Cynthia then, another big glug of wine until her glass was empty. It seemed that Simon had given Peter the opportunity to speak then, smirking from across the table. “Speaking of work…” Those dangerous eyes loomed as you sat a little straighter in your chair. “Heard from a friend that you missed that interview dad set up…” The comment was thrown out there so casually but you were left reeling as you knew the chaos that simple comment would cause. Besides, how did he even know that? There wasn’t a chance in the world that Peter had friends to be able to tell him that information, so what? Was he following you? Keeping tabs on you? Before you even had the chance to interrogate him Cynthia spoke first.

“No, no…” Placing down the wine bottle onto the table with a heavy thud, eyes fixed on you. “Please tell me that isn’t true.” Raising her brows, as if waiting for you to deny Peter’s allegations but you remained sheepishly quiet. “You lied to me.” There was a fiery rage in her eyes now and you knew that you were in for it. “You told me that you went. I can’t believe you would lie to your own mother…” Your mouth opened then, as if to defend yourself but Cynthia was much too quick to continue her tirade. “We have spoken about this again and again… I made it clear it is time to give up on this silly little fantasy that you’ve been holding onto. It is time to grow up and join the real world. You need to be more like your brother and your sister…” Gesturing wildly to them as Anna sat almost ashamed with her gaze down to her lap and Peter sat there with a smarmy smile the instigator of this.

Again, you opened your mouth, but her hand came up sharp in your direction. “Do you know the strings your father had to pull to organise that interview?” Then gesturing towards Harold who seemed completely unphased, cutting his steak into another bitesize piece whilst his wife continued to berate their daughter before the audience. “You are such an ungrateful brat and you always have been. When will you understand? You have absolutely zero desirable qualities so finding a decent job will be very difficult for you… who in their right mind is going to want to hire someone like you, hmm?”

Everyone apart from Cynthia and Peter appeared mortified, Anna looked to you with horror on her face and then Barney spoke, careful smile on his face. “She still had plenty of time to figure out what she wants to do, right? Anna took a gap year during college… Pete did the same… So, she isn’t going abroad or whatever, instead she’s trying to… to… figure out if she can follow her passion, I think it’s-” “Be quiet.” Cynthia growled at him then, teeth grit. “Don’t talk such nonsense… Peter and Anna were working hard at college and needed a break to find themselves and after returned to college and get their degrees. What does she have? Nothing. I couldn’t even convince her to apply to any colleges… She is a lazy, stubborn, silly little girl and you are chasing a hopeless dream-” “Enough.”

Every set of eyes then turned to look at Simon who sat with a furious look present on his face. At the beginning of the evening, he could maybe accept those biting little comments, he could certainly accept the way that Peter had provoked him, Simon could even accept the way that your mother had sat there bragging about your siblings but he wasn’t going to allow her to utterly humiliate you like this. “You don’t fuckin’ talk to her that way.” Carefully from beside him, you muttered his name, a soft plead to try and calm the fight that seemed inevitable now. “No.” He told you firmly, quietly, gazing down at you with a set jaw and narrowed eyes. “I won’t just sit there and let her fuckin’ talk to you like this… I wont… I can’t…”

It wasn’t like Simon had grown up in a good household. It was clearly different from your own. Simon had witnessed his father completely decimate any good in his family and he was too young and too small and too scared to stop him or do anything. This is why he is the man he is today; he wouldn’t allow that again and seeing your family ripping you to shreds, tearing apart any good and hope and light inside of you was too much for him. Not you. Never you.

“Simon, please. You simply don’t understand...” Cynthia began. “My daughter lives in this word of make believe where she thinks she is going to become and artists and be able to make money and buy big houses like her sister. It’s just ridiculous. I’ve tried getting through to her, but-” “Your daughter is a fuckin’ adult.” Simon growled then, leaning into the table slightly so he could talk across at her. “She doesn’t need you to find her a job and she doesn’t need you to approve the choices that she makes in her life.” Simon growled, feeling this need to protect you and keep you safe, that very same one that had grown for his mother in his childhood. Different, but… the same. “Your daughter… your daughter is fuckin’ amazing. There isn’t a thing about her that needs to change. She’s intelligent and she’s soft and kind and she’s really fuckin’ talented and I wonder how all of that managed to happen when she grew up around you cunts-” The entire table seemed to gasp in unison.

There seemed to be this stunned silence before everyone erupted, Peter almost fell off his chair laughing, whilst baby Hunter wailed from the commotion. Cynthia stood stark upright, jabbing a finger in his direction. “Unacceptable! Disgusting! Unacceptable! He’s an animal! He’s feral!” Stalk through the house on a tirade of insults aimed in his direction with her husband trailing behind her. Anna was trying to hopelessly clean a puddle of wine from where it had teetered over onto the table. “It’s fucking vintage!” There were real tears in her eyes, much to Simon’s surprise.

Just then Barney stood up, bouncing his son in his arms and looking between you and Simon. “I think… I think it would be best if you guys left.” There was sorrow in his eyes as he suggested it, not wanting to be unkind but just not wanting anymore drama. It was probably for the best even if Simon did have a few more choice words for them.

The entire car ride home you were unusually quiet beside him. He was actually a little lost on how to handle this situation. There weren’t a part of him that was sorry for what he’d said to your family, or more specifically your mother. Simon just couldn’t handle the fact that she could talk to you in such a vile way. There was only so much that Simon was willing to take and he’d lost it. Fuck, had he scared you? Were you mad at him? Were you sad for causing a rift in your family? Had he even caused a rift? Clearly, they hadn’t thought very much of you before he’d been there…

A small sniffle from beside him caught his attention, glancing in your direction and under the glow of the streetlamps Simon saw your face wet with tears. Without hesitation Simon signalled and pulled his truck onto an empty road, clambering from the driver’s seat and around to yank open your door. A moment later his arms were around you, hand supporting the back of your head burying your face into the crook of his shoulder. “You’re alright. Shh. You’re alright, babe.”

After a few moments of allowing, you to just sob into his shoulder, your voice muffled against his shirt. “Don’t ca-care what they s-say about me-” “Well, I do.” There was a thick edge to his voice, pulling back to cup your face and looking for any sign of fight towards your family but you seemed defeated, you seemed emotionally drained. Where was that witty girl that had corned him on a night out? Where was the one that had to almost twist his arm to open up? Where was that fight for her own pretty self? “I care about what they say about you because they are dead fuckin’ wrong, babe. No one deserved to be talked to like that. I won’t allow it.”

There was something deeper simmering here behind all this. There was something that Simon didn’t want to confess or discuss. The berating. The belittling. The treatment of less than… This was something that Simon wouldn’t allow for you because he had experienced it and much worse. “You don’t deserve it.” It was like Simon was talking to all the people in his life that hadn’t deserved the fate they were given. You. Him. His mum. His brother. His friends he’d lost. The soldiers that had died in his arms. “Okay?” “Okay.”

Masterlist | Ask | 04-02-2024

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formulafics · 6 months

Text

★ MINI…ER LANDO: PT. 3 | LN4

Scenario: in which lando and his wife reveal her pregnancy to the world. in this part, baby norris is officially born!

Pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

A/N: this is technically the last part, but don’t fret, dad!lando will appear in future content! i love this little series so much and i hope you guys have enjoyed it too

PART ONE | PART TWO

requests are open for smau’s | check pinned for more info!

lando.jpg

liked by ynnorris, danielricciardo, charles_leclerc, alex_albon, and 162,542 others

lando.jpg home feels a lot homier with baby norris around.

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ynnorris who’s cutting onions and why are tears streaming down my face. i love my little family so much ☹️❤️

⤷ landonorris i love you mama

⤷ formulaleclerc LANDO CALLING YN MAMA 💔 i’m weeping

rizzciardo DID DANIEL AND CHARLES MEET HER? I HAVE TO KNOW

⤷ ynnorris not yet, but soon :)

norrisnation the second picture oh my god 😭 this is so precious

papayabull IM GONNA CRY

ynnorris

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo, charles_leclerc, pierregasly, and 267,892 others

ynnorris apologies for being gone for so long, but i have returned and i can’t believe it’s been 6 months already 😭 as you can see, baby norris - 1, lando - 0

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landonorris i cant wait to see you this weekend. i miss you and baby

⤷ ynnorris i miss you ☹️❤️ i’m sure baby misses you too

danielricciardo I MEET HER THIS WEEKEND

norrisnation i missed yns post so bad and didn’t even realize it

rizzciardo yn stays giving us lando content and i will forever love her for it

⤷ piastrisgirl literally. she’s been feeding us for years

ynnorris

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris, pierregasly, alex_albon, carmenmundt, charles_leclerc, and 198,345 others

ynnorris it happened - baby norris faced danny ric. join us next week for baby norris vs charles leclerc!

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leclerclover i need charles and baby norris IMMEDIATELY

rizzciardo NOOO THE LAST SLIDE HURTS I LOVE DANIEL

danielricciardo baby norris is pretty swaggy if you ask me. all thanks to her mom, her dads a loser

⤷ landonorris okay daniel. you’re never seeing my child again

⤷ danielricciardo i meant to say thanks to her parents, my bad. her dad is definitely super cool and swag

norrisnation the second picture :( lando is so cute

⤷ ynnorris he is pretty cute isnt he?

⤷ formulasainzzzz YN RESPONDING OH MY GOD

supermaxmaxmax if this isn’t my future what’s the point?

formulaleclerc PLEASE GIVE US THE CHARLES AND BABY NORRIS CONTENT

⤷ ynnorris will do 🫡

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suguruplsr · 8 months

Text

Your daddy’s bestest friend

✰ ✰ ✰ your daddy’s best friend is so nice !

જ⁀➴ it should be despicable how long i’ve spent on this so the warnings might not be accurate and maybe a few typos i looked over 🙁

,, dads best friend toji! whose also a dilf! x fem!reader, porn with little plot , small fic , pet names (sweet girl, darlin’, sweetheart, baby, princess) , age gap (reader in college, 20’s) , oral (m & f receiving) , unprotected , dumbification , overstimulation , degrading (wrds: whore, slut, brat) , slapping (like twice) , brat taming , lots of cum, reader gets like really horny at some point—

divider from @/cafekitsune

you were happy that your dad was finally able to go out and enjoy his life while in his late 40's, now no longer having to hover over his daughter, or take care of her all on his own.

being in college, still living with your parent, and having a part time job as a server had it's lows, but with the help of your dad and a few generous tips at work, you knew you'd finally able to move out his house in a few months. much to his dismay.

the idea of finally being a independent adult and living on your own was as exciting as it was scary. even your dad was a little worried from how eager you were to leave him, and maybe you did feel some dread about leaving.

Well, the dread of not being able to see the new friend your dad made some months ago, Toji, whom you've gotten accustomed to seeing on their football nights and eventually, every other day.

he was laid back and chill with no care in the world almost. his muscular figure always sprawled out on the couch, giving you casual greetings with a smug smirk and pet names whenever your dad wasn't around. after a week or two of coming over, you began to see him around the house often.

the annoyance of him constantly coming over slowly dissipated and now you enjoy noticing those fleeting glances he gave you. knowing well that you were doing the same.

It's just that, sometimes, you couldn't help but sneak down to the kitchen for a few snacks or drinks while they watched the game. just so you could eye him a for a good few seconds. he surely had to be in his 30's, despite the rough tone of his voice, and his obvious older age. but there's no way someone who like him, was around your fathers age.

and perhaps you've let your eyes trail a bit lower some times, trying to go unnoticed as you visibly gulp at the bulge that peeked through his pants. always excusing yourself to be alone to those scenarios of how you'd make sure you get at least one night with him before you leave.

thinking about his large build that towered over you. huge hands that would cup your body just right. you could tell just from the way he has to spread his legs wide to get comfortable, that he had a thick cock. 'he'd definitely be a good fuck' , you always thought to yourself.

and maybe today could be your chance.

"Dad, i'm not a child. you know I don't need to be watched over."

You crossed your arms with a small huff, your disapproving eyes meeting your fathers. Okay, you were a little excited that you'd be alone with Toji, but your judgement got in the way.

"I'm leaving for over a week sweetie, I just want to make sure you're going to be taken care of."

Your dad sighed reassuringly, shaking his head and parting from the hug, opening the door of his black 2013 ford edge SE sport. "I love you sweetheart. Toji i’m sure you—"

"Don't worry, I'll take good care of her." Toji waved him off with a smile, you following in suit, ignoring the dangerous way those words rolled off his tongue as your dad pulled off. you couldn't help but feel as if there was another meaning to them

After wards you both walked in, Toji watching as you walked to the stairs. "You're a daddy's girl aren't ya?" he smirks, sitting on the couch and grabbing the remote.

"Well he's who I grew up with so it's only natural." your voice got quieter with each word as you watched his legs instinctively spread to get comfortable. your eyes flickered back up to his, embarrassment flooding your body when you saw his eyes already looking at you.

"Mind getting closer? Couldn't hear ya sweet girl." he chuckles, putting down the remote and gesturing you over to him. his eyes had a small gleam to them that almost made your knees buckle as you walked over to him. sitting on the other end of the couch.

Eventually you two ended up talking about more than just your dad. he even told you about his son and that he was currently co-parenting. while you told him all about your college life, from the nerve wracking work to the frat parties you occasionally attended.

You didn't even realize how much time had past until Toji was asking what pizza you'd like so he could order. which led to you two to watching a horror movie which he had chosen.

"How can they be so stupid.." your rolled your eyes, watching the classic 'pick me blonde girl' die with her boyfriend. you had unconsciously laid your head on his shoulder long ago, small comments about the characters leaving your lips every few minutes.

"s'posed to be entertainment." he replied with a chuckle, amused by your distain. "wanna watch somethin' else?" you could feel his voice vibrating against your body.

"this'll be fine. just wanna see how it ends." you sigh, reaching over to the counter on his side, only to feel his hand clutch your waist. "don't want ya to spill anything." he mumbles, guiding you back as he hands you your drink.

Yet he didn't move his hand, the pads of his fingers pressing comfortably into your skin and massaging you. after a few moments of silence and hidden glances you decided to take your chance, letting him put up your drink and while you swiftly leaned more into his hold.

his hand was draped across your back and your head on his chest. "well aren't you gettin' comfortable.." he hums, holding your legs on his lap, his other hand moving along your thigh. "maybe." your purr with a smile, watching as his eyes looked down at you with a look that made your stomach turn in excitement.

"You don't really care about the movie do you?" he smirks, his tone low as his hands nearly slip under your shorts, close to the hem of your panties. "Not really. I got other entertainment." you said smugly, moving your hips so his hands could reach further up your shorts. "fuckin' knew it" he says breathlessly, squeezing your thigh and pulling you fully onto his lap, your legs around his thighs.

"Saw you starin'.. those frat boys don't take care of ya?" the pad of his thumb pressed your bud through your flimsy underwear. rubbing around to feel your wetness. "they don't do a good job y'know.. want someone more experienced." you smile, holding onto his shoulders as you sat up and let him pull down your shorts.

he sighs at the sight of you, only in a tight t-shirt and underwear. on his lap. "I'll take care of ya sweetheart, sittin' so pretty f'me." his fingers slid your underwear to the side, one hand holding them to the side and the other slowly sliding up and down your folds.

"Make sure you take, o-oh! um.. extra care of me." his middle finger teased around your hole before pushing in, making you take a sharp breath. he chuckles at your stammering, placing a kiss on your nipples that poked through your t shirt. "I got you baby."

his finger curls inside you in a back and forth motion, slowly inching deeper and spreading your walls wider for him to slide in his ring finger. the feeling made you squirm, “Toji!” you whine in his ear and fall more into his hold, much to his enjoyment.

"your hear that? what a messy girl you are.." he groans, his voice having a teasing edge. you held back your moans, listening to the squelching sound of your cunt wetting his fingers. you felt him move your underwear more, gently pressing his thumb on your bud and rubbing it.

a broken moan escapes your lips at the stimulation, your thighs beginning to shake as you rolled your hips deeper onto his fingers. "m'close! please, just like that. please make me cum!" you whimper, nails digging into his back as you chased the feeling building up inside you.

"oh look at you.. gonna make a mess on me. sweet girl?." he murmurs in your ear, his fingers scissoring your hole. the movement of his thumb started to become faster while his tongue licked your hard buds through your shirt. making the hot feeling of your release rush through you.

your pussy squeezed his fingers tight as you came, a loud porn-worthy moan leaving your lips. he let you continue to ride out your orgasm, his fingers slow and tantalizing, until your moans died down into small blabbering.

"so fucking hot." he groans, removing his fingers and finally pulling you in for a kiss. your lips sloppily mesh together as you unbuckle his jeans. "want you so bad. please." you whine, struggling to undress him amidst heated moment.

"you got me spoiling you huh? i got you sweet thing. just take this off baby." he pulled the strap of your underwear, standing up and undressing himself. you eagerly followed, then sitting up on the couch, on your knees so you were eye level with the thick girth put in front of you.

"can i?" you mumble, glancing up at Toji. your mouth practically watering at the sight of his thick hard cock dripping with pre cum. so tauntingly close to your lips. "of course darlin’." his smirk was wiped off his face at the feeling of your hand's beginning to jerk his cock.

moving closer, you stuck out your tongue, his pre falling into your mouth. a guttural sound rumbled through his body from your filthy act. his cock twitching with need. "fuck. c'mon baby ne—" you cut him off by leaning up and wrapping your tongue around his tip.

your lips slid onto his cock and you swirled your tongue around him hungrily. flickering your eyes up, you studied him with a look of desire. the sound of his groans made your pussy clench on nothing but air. his hand reaches down and runs through your hair, nearly gripping it every time you kissed and licked one of the veins along his cock. but Toji wasn’t going to ruin your fun tonight, he had days to ram into those cute glossy lips of yours.

"could cum just like this." he says breathlessly a small whine, nearly, falling from his lips. he closes his eyes with a mutter praise when your mouth took almost all of him in. you hummed, slowly sliding your mouth along him and setting a good pace, one hand holding onto his thigh while the other wrapped around the base of his cock. matching the pace of your mouth.

he bites his lip, looking down at you with hazy eyes and slowly grinding himself into your mouth. "m'gonna cum. keep it in your mouth. gotta see how disgusting you are, heh" you acknowledge him with a small hum, sucking him off with a sudden fervor that made him cover his grunts as he spills into your mouth.

you milked him, all of his cum tainting your mouth white. you stick out your tongue that was heavy with his seed, “gonna turn you into a dirty slut. swallow it f’me princess.” Toji groans, noticing your how your thighs clenched together. you came just from sucking him off. making him chuckle and bend down to you, pushing you back on the couch as he pries your legs open.

“pretty pussy leakin’ cus of me? how cute.” you meet his eyes as you swallow his thick cum, savoring the salty taste. “did so well for you Toji! please fuck me. wanna cum on your cock..” you plead, squirming at the feeling of his hands playing with the cum that stuck to your skin all around your pussy. “since you asked so nicely” he says lowly, sitting beside you and moving you onto his lap.

your cock hungry self immediately grabbed his tip, lining him with your hole and then taking him all in one go. your pussy slamming down on his cock.

“fuuuuckkkk! y-you know how to take dick huh?” he grunts, holding your thighs down tightly as he tries to not lose himself in your tight cunt. you clenched around him, body slumped against his chest as you already felt another orgasm approach. “Toji please! let me move, wanna cum!” you whine, tears building at the way you pussy twitched around his girth. making your mind feel fuzzy.

before you could continue your rant, Toji held you up by your waist, then slamming you back down. a smug smile playing on his lips at the sight of your eyes immediately rolling back, cute little moans leaving you. “you’re a fucking brat—“ he does it again, adding a slap to your ass as you come back down on his cock. “but it’s okay, just gotta—“ he groans, slamming you down on him again before switching your positions into a mating press, shuffling a pillow underneath you before laying you on it.

“just gotta put you in your place. damn slut.” he smirks down at you, reducing you into blabbers of his name and how good his cock is as he thrusts into you. “where did my cock drunk whore go?” he mocks, his cock deep as he wipes the fat tears that rolled down your face, then he slaps your breast, watching how it jiggled while he thrusted into you.

“Toji! m’sorry! was t-too greedy, fuck!” you sob, taking another thrust, hands trying, and pitifully failing, to push his pelvis away. he was wrecking your puffy pussy. “i ain’t ask all that.” he swats your hands away, instead pinning them up and beginning to quickly thrust into your soaking cunt.

“might forgive you if you cum on this cock. said you was gon’ do that right? go ahead. dumb slut.” he tugs your body higher with your wrists, hitting your pussy at an angle that made your thighs shake. straining as he feels his cock about to spurt into you. “gonna cum for you Toji!!” you cry clenching tightly around him, your messy pussy cumming all over him while he shoots his seed into you.

“this pussy is a fuckin’ vice.” he groans, slowly pulling out of you, hushing your whines with a deep kiss, pulling you onto his lap as he gets comfortable on the couch. he begins kisssing away your tears and sobs. “toji.. fuck i can—“

he kisses you, the massaging of his hands into your plush body slowly bringing you from your high. “shh, s’okay. gotta fuck you in the shower. messy, just like this.”

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puck-luck · 4 days

Note

Forever yearning for a jealous, dominant Luke Hughes. I mean spitting in your mouth, edging, mirror sex, etc. I need the filthy, down bad luke.

Scenario: maybe you’re becoming close with one of the other players (completely innocent-just forming a friendship) but Luke doesn’t see it as that way…

👉🏻👈🏻

warnings (in no particular order): spit(!!), jealousy, dom!luke, edging, mirror sex, one (1!) slap to the face just for the enjoyment of my friend jo, spanking, drinking (technically underage hiii luke turn 21 already stop being lame), beating yourself up, pet names and nicknames as FUCK (always bro do y’all even know me), road head, face fucking, unprotected p in v, dare i say breeding kink, implied subspace, allusion to size kink (probably established size kink to be fair), I THINK THAT’S IT BUT I’M NOT SURE! pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader summary: the one when luke gets jealous at the bar and doles out a bit of a punishment (code: luke is insecure about his performance on the ice, so when his gf starts talking with another teammate who is her friend, he gets jealous and feels like he has to prove himself by making her feel good, but he’s still a dom bc HOTTTT) wc: 6416

The Devils’ last game of the season was at home this year. There was no chance that they would make the playoffs and Jack was out in Colorado for his shoulder surgery, plus Luke’s parents weren’t able to make it from Michigan for his final rookie game. He was depending on you to be there, so there you were. You were cheering, you were yelling at the officials when they missed a call, you were laughing at Luke when he took a trademarked Hughes spill on the ice with barely anyone around him. Yeah, you were disappointed at the end of the game when the Islanders won (and it wasn’t even close), but it was just one game. It wasn’t the end of the world. It was a disappointment, but it wasn’t life-changing.

Luke, however, was much more upset with their performance when you met up with him after the game. He drove the two of you to the bar where the team was meeting for one last celebration before the off-season and he tried, he really did, to keep his complaints inside. He was stewing, just letting it well up inside of him and fester in the silence between you, until it spilled over.

“It should have been a better game,” Luke finally said, the harsh edge in his tone rubbing you in all the wrong ways. “We could’ve done more. If I had just–”

“Lu, baby,” you interrupted, voice soft. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I was out there the longest, other than Jake,” Luke argued. “They depend on me and I let them down.”

“You were only on the ice for one goal, Lu. You couldn’t have done anything about at least the other three.”

Your statement was not something he wanted to hear. Your boyfriend, sweet as he was, always saw the best in everyone else and the worst in himself. Where he could have been blaming Brendan for the loss, since Brendan was on the ice for three of the four goals, he was instead blaming himself. He was never one to hold a grudge against his teammates or his friends or his family, which was part of the reason why you were so in love with him.

He grunted instead of giving you a real response, but you knew it was coming from a place of knowing you’re right but still feeling hurt.

“I love you,” you told him, just a reminder that his performance would never affect your affection towards him.

“I love you too,” Luke replied, and you two fell back into silence. It was less tense this time, but his shoulders were still tense and he was frowning, almost pouting. He was so pretty, even now, but you hated how this expression marred his face.

When you pulled up to the bar, you were met by Luke’s teammates. While some of the men had gone home after the game, it was mostly the ones who had families. You knew their wives and girlfriends would have encouraged them to go out with the team rather than stay home with the kids, but you understood. If Luke had wanted to go straight home after the game, you would’ve gone with him and cuddled him until you fell asleep.

“Do you want to get out and get me a drink, baby, while I find parking?” Luke asked, always so considerate.

“Yeah,” you agreed easily, leaning over the center console to peck his lips before you left the car.

Waiting outside the entrance of the bar, Nico and John smiled as you got out of the car and walked over to them. You hugged each of them before entering the bar, Nico walking in ahead of you and John following you with a hand on your back.

It didn’t mean anything to you or to John, but when Luke watched John guide you into the bar before he drove away to search for a parking spot, something sharp and green poked at his heart.

Luke finally made his way into the bar about ten minutes after you walked in, and your face had lit up when you saw him like it had been much longer. He didn’t see you at first, so you had the chance to watch him scan the room. His brow was furrowed as he scanned each person’s features. You knew that he was trying to spot you without looking for the other boys at first, but it was proving difficult with how crowded the room had become.

Timo appeared at his side and patted Luke’s shoulder in greeting. Luke talked to him for a minute before Timo pointed your way. Luke’s face split with a smile when he saw you and he gave Timo a pat before beelining towards you.

You looped your arms around Luke’s neck when he joined you, leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him.

“Gross,” Nico complained from next to you. “It’s only been a few minutes since you’ve seen each other.”

“You’re not in love,” Luke replied, snarky and sarcastic like he tended to be when it wasn’t just the two of you. He then turned to you. “Where’s my drink?”

“What a priority,” you teased, rolling your eyes at him. He pinched your side. “I sent Johnny to go get it.”

Luke’s expression changed for a split second before he schooled his features. You wouldn’t have noticed it if you weren’t so in tune with his emotions, experience that comes only after years of dating a person.

You let it go, knowing that it can’t be too important, or Luke would have said something. He knew you were friends with guys on the team. After being around them for almost a year, having moved out here with Luke at the start of his rookie year, it was bound to happen. Plus, Luke wasn’t the jealous type. He knew that you loved him and you’d love him forever, saying yes in a second if he chose to propose.

But to him, there was something about the way you said “Johnny” instead of John. It was that and John’s hand on your back as he guided you into the bar, on top of an already hard night, that had Luke questioning himself.

“I asked him to get you a rum and coke,” you said, tilting your head up to poke Luke’s nose with your own. “Is that okay?”

“It sounds good, thank you,” Luke replied.

You resume conversation with Nico, turning to face him but staying tucked into Luke’s side. He had a hand on your hip and the other accepted the drink that John handed Luke when he returned. He nursed it quietly for a while, engaging in conversation here and there, but mostly just enjoying his time with his friends.

The game was the last time that his whole team would be together like that, but this night out was the last time that his team, his friends, would be together in the way that mattered. Even if no one was traded, if no one changed in the slightest (except Jack, coming back from injury), things still wouldn’t be quite the same. It wouldn’t be his second year, his presence wouldn’t be new or exciting. He would have to try harder, do better, and be consistent to show that he wasn’t just an example of beginner’s luck.

He clutched you a little tighter to his side at that thought. He was comforted by the way that you melted into him, moving to lean back against his chest. Your hand covered his and the other polished off your drink. He took the empty cup from you and kissed your cheek before pulling away to toss your cup, and his, in the trash can behind him.

When he returned, he was taken aback by the sight before him.

You had stepped forward and were carding your fingers through John’s curls and Luke saw red before he saw the thoughtful look on your face. John had just said to you and Nico that he thought his hair was getting too long, too unruly. You didn’t agree– it was a good length, the curls were just settling into their shapes.

“I don’t think you should cut it, John,” you were saying before Luke grabbed your other wrist and yanked you towards him. “Luke!” You exclaimed, startled by the movement.

“Time to go,” Luke announced, loud enough that the other boys could hear. He clutched your wrist, not your hand, your wrist, and pulled you along as he stomped toward the exit.

“Luke, what is going on?” You asked, voice resounding in your ears like it’s much louder than it actually is.

Luke kept walking like he didn’t even hear you, pushing through the door and leading you down the block to the car. He opened your door for you and helped you in, but he slammed it shut once you were buckled into your seat. He rounded the car and opened his own door, glaring at you in a passing glance before settling into the driver’s seat.

“Lu,” you implored, pressing your hands against the top of your thighs.

When he didn’t reply, you tried again.

“Babe, talk to me–”

“I don’t want you to speak unless you’re spoken to,” Luke said. He refused to look at you. “You think you can touch John’s hair the way you touch mine? You’ll let him guide you into the bar the way I would? I’m not enough for you, huh, baby?”

You blinked, suddenly shifting up to sit a little straighter. Luke, your sweet angel Luke, the baby of his family who would never hurt a fly, who avoided hockey fights at every cost, had flipped his switch.

“Answer me. I asked you a question.”

“No, sir,” you said. Your eyes flickered down to where Luke’s knuckles were white with how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. You inhaled sharply as you made eye contact with the veins decorating the back of his hand.

“No?” Luke repeated, mocking. “I’m not enough for you?”

“No! Lu, you’re more than enough, you know you’re the only one I need.” Your words came out scrambled and you tripped over them.

Luke clicked his tongue, disapproval written all over his face. “Can’t even speak, can you?” He scoffed, reached down with one hand, and popped the button on his jeans. “Let’s put your mouth to a better use until you can find your words.”

“You’re driving,” you pointed out, casting a worried look at the road ahead of you.

“It wasn’t a question,” Luke threw you a glance. He looked back at the road, then back to you, this time holding your gaze. He cocked his head to the side, eyes softening for a moment. “Was it?”

“No,” you breathed out.

“Good girl.” A smile spread over Luke’s face and he turned back to the road. “Get to it.”

You clenched your thighs together and unbuckled your seatbelt so you could twist towards Luke and lean over the center console. You reached out to unzip his pants, but he knocked your hands away.

“I didn’t say use your hand. I said,” he paused, grabbing your hair and tilting your head up so your eyes met his, “Use your mouth.”

The noise that escaped you was involuntary. You moved forward that extra inch and carefully took Luke’s zipper in your mouth, dragging it down. His boxers were revealed by the action, but that was the extent of it.

“Come on,” Luke encouraged, growing impatient. What you couldn’t see from your position was the smug tilt of his mouth, knowing there was no way to get his cock out of his pants with just your mouth. “Take it out.”

“Can’t,” you whimpered.

“Oh, you can’t?” Luke mocked, feigning sympathy. “Poor baby needs my help, yeah?”

You nodded and hummed an agreement.

Luke’s grip tightened on your hair and he gave it a sharp tug. “Use your manners.”

“Please, Lu, help me,” you conceded.

“Help you what?”

“Help me take your cock out so I can suck you, please, sir.” Your voice was close to breaking, you were itching to get your mouth on him and make him feel good.

Luke obliged, revealing himself to you. You opened your mouth and he pumped himself twice just to tease you before slapping the lip of his cock on the flat of your tongue. He fed you his cock, returning his hand to your hair when you had taken as much of his length in your mouth as you could. He gathered your hair into a messy ponytail with his one hand, the other still on the wheel, and began to guide your head up and down.

You gagged when he guided you to his base, nose touching the fabric of his boxers around his cock, but the groan he let out made the discomfort worth it. It was low and desperate, just pure relief.

“Wanna fuck your mouth,” Luke breathed out, pulling you up so just the tip of his cock remained in your mouth.

You hollowed your cheeks and sucked, swiping your tongue over his slit and relishing in the taste of his precum in your mouth.

He moaned aloud, the sound seeming to echo throughout the car. You could feel your heartbeat in your fingertips. You let out a sigh, suddenly overwhelmed with contentment for your situation. Luke was perfect. He was the perfect boyfriend, whether he was his soft and cuddly self or this dominant version of him that wasn’t afraid to tell you what to do, to communicate what he wanted.

“Would if I weren’t driving, too,” Luke mumbled, mostly to himself. “Fuck, baby, make me come. You know how.”

Luke returned both hands to the steering wheel and allowed you to move your head freely, to go at your own pace. You bobbed your head with enthusiasm, spit dripping down his shaft and soaking the fabric around him. You gagged at times, but the tight squeeze of your throat around him just added to Luke’s pleasure. He wasn’t shy about telling you how good you felt, either, making you more determined to make him come.

“Fuck, pull off,” Luke said, his voice a little shaky.

You couldn’t. You couldn’t, not when he was so close. The idea of having his come in your mouth, on your tongue, the manifestation of how you made him feel, was too alluring.

“Y/N, pull off,” Luke commanded, reaching down to yank you off of him by your hair. He clenched his jaw as he held you just far enough off his cock that you thought, with just one bump in the road, you could capture it again. He steered out of the lane and parked on the side of the road. “You don’t want to listen? You’re so cockdumb that you can’t follow my orders?”

All you could do was look at him, eyes wide.

He spoke through his teeth, never once blinking or breaking eye contact. “Since you want me inside you so bad, I’m gonna fuck your mouth until I come. You’re gonna take it. Even if you gag, even if you cry, I’m not going to stop until I come. Then, you’re going to sit back and buckle yourself in and I’m going to finish driving us home. You will not swallow. You’re going to hold my come in your mouth until I say so. Do you understand?”

Your jaw dropped at the words, the tips of your ears growing hot. “Yes, sir.” It’s nearly inaudible and you can feel your panties growing damper with just the thought of it– minute after minute ticking by, Luke’s come coating your tongue, not being able to speak or swallow. You’re completely under Luke’s control.

He leaned back in the seat and motioned toward his cock.

You allowed him to guide you onto his length again, getting comfortable with its size. You hollowed your cheeks and looked up at him, pausing your movements and staying statue-still.

A smirk took over Luke’s face. “That’s my girl.”

He took your head with both hands, keeping your hair out of your face and keeping you from moving an inch, and began to thrust into your mouth. It was sharp and hard and you tried to create a vacuum-type suction around his cock, as tight as you knew he liked it, but it was hard with the head of his dick hitting the back of your throat with every buck of his hips. You ended up gagging, and crying, and drooling all over his cock, just like Luke had said, and he fulfilled his promise that he wouldn’t stop.

“Look at you, making such a mess of yourself,” Luke scoffed. “Such a mess all over my cock, just to make me feel good. You’d let me do whatever I wanted, wouldn’t you, baby? You’d never let anyone else take you like this, just me, yeah? No one else gets to see you just leaking all over my cock because you’re mine.”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at that and the moan you released around Luke’s length caused his hips to stutter, made him unable to hold back his orgasm any longer. He came in stripes all over your tongue, some of it leaking down the back of your throat before you could stop it. He pulled you off of him and crashed his lips against yours, a close-mouthed kiss because you wouldn’t dare disobey, couldn’t handle the idea of disappointing Luke.

“My good girl,” Luke cooed when he pulled away.

You offered him a lazy smile, head foggy and bones mushy. You were sated, an elevated version of just happy, and so, so comfortable. You loved him. He was everything.

“I’m not done with you yet, am I?” Luke asked softly, thumbing over your bottom lip.

You shook your head.

“Open,” Luke said. “I want to see my come on your tongue.”

You hesitantly opened your mouth, pushing your tongue out so he could see the milky white substance coating the muscle.

Luke captured your cheeks with one hand and leaned in with the other holding your head in place. You stared at his eyes, which were watching your tongue as a line of his saliva mixed with the come in your mouth. When his eyes rose to meet yours, it was the embers of desire that made your head roll back and the instinct, the pure instinct of having something in your mouth, that caused you to swallow.

Your head snapped forward, eyes wide and not doe-eyed, not purposefully innocent to make Luke’s heart jump. No, your eyes were wide with worry because you disobeyed him. It wasn’t something you did to spite him or push him further over the line.

“I’m sorry.” The words leaked from your mouth and you scrambled to take Luke’s hand in yours, clutching his right with both of yours. “Luke, it was an accident, you know I’d never–”

His mouth was open in shock, briefly, before it snapped shut and his eyes twinkled with something downright predatory. His hand was limp in yours (though not pulling away) and he was still.

“But you did,” He interrupted. “You did.”

“I didn’t mean to.” You were trying to reason with him, but you knew the damage was done. Whatever he had planned for you when you got back to the house, it was going to be ten times worse now.

Luke just shook his head and removed his hand from your grasp, pulling back onto the highway and resuming the drive home. You weren’t far, the area around you looking more and more familiar with each passing second. The minutes stretched for what seemed like hours with Luke’s silence. You held your own hand nervously, pinching at the skin of you knuckles and avoiding Luke’s face. You couldn’t handle seeing the disappointment etched into his features.

Luke pulled into the garage of the apartment complex after just about five minutes. Suddenly, it hits you– you have the apartment all to yourselves tonight. There’s nothing to stop Luke, or you for that matter, from being as loud or as public as he wants. There’s a window in the living room, one that Luke mentioned after your last session. A spark traveled up your spine when you realize that tonight might be the night that he fucks you out in the open, for anyone to see.

When he shifted the car into park, Luke turned to you expectantly.

You apologized again, softly, once he looked at you.

His features softened then, seeing your apprehension. He reached out and took your hand. “Are you okay?”

“I feel bad that I didn’t listen,” you replied. Your eyes fell on your shoelaces, which were an off-white color after plenty of use. You made a note to yourself that maybe you should wash them soon. You wondered if they’d return to their original color. The shoes were much more interesting than looking up at Luke and meeting his eyes.

He tilted your head upward with a guided hand anyway. “You’re still my good girl,” he reassured. “Are you okay to keep going? Or do you want me to stop? I won’t be mad. Whatever you want, we can do it. We can leave this in the car and I can take care of you, baby.”

You could cry at his words, how great he is about your slip-up. You did want him to be sweet, but you knew that he needed this. He needed to work through whatever was going on in his mind and if he could just be in control of this, just for a little while longer, it would be so much easier for him later.

“I want to keep going,” you admitted.

“You know your word?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tell me?”

“Flower.”

“That’s right, baby.” Luke pecked your lips, but when he pulled back he was back to business. “Now, are you ready to listen to me?”

You nodded, eyes trained on his. Neither of you blinked, a silent contest that he ended up losing (something that would normally cause you to gloat, but now doesn’t seem like the right time).

“When you get to the apartment, you’re going to strip. You’re going to sit on the edge of our bed. You’re going to touch yourself while you wait for me and I want you to watch yourself in the mirror. If you come, and you know I’ll know if you do, you’re not going to come at all tonight. I want you to bring yourself right to the edge and stay there. Can you do that for me?” He spoke slowly and clearly, his voice gravely and dominant. He didn’t stumble over his words or pause and “um” like he did in interviews. No, this was when Luke was at his surest. This was when he knew exactly what to do, exactly what to say.

“I can do that,” you agreed, unbuckling your seatbelt and gathering your things.

“I’m going to give you a five minute head start.”

You nodded at Luke, opened your door, and left the vehicle. When you got up to the apartment, you didn’t bother to hang your coat or purse on the hooks Luke put up just for you. You didn’t put your shoes neatly like the door like you normally did. Instead, you dropped your belongings and kicked the shoes off one by one on your walk to the bedroom. You shed your clothing in a similar manner, leaving a trail behind for Luke to chuckle at when he walked in the door.

Fully naked, you stared at yourself in the mirror that faced your bed. You read once that it was bad luck to have a mirror face a bed, that your reflection could like… capture your soul, or something, but you kept the mirror there anyway because if there was anything Luke enjoyed, it was seeing himself fuck you in the mirror. He liked to watch you ride him in reverse cowgirl, so he could see your ass jiggle as you bounced on his cock with his own eyes and your whole body in the reflection.

Sometimes, his hands would drift up and he would hold your tits, watching how he could envelop them in his palms. You tilt your head to the side, watching your own hands slide up your body to do the same.

For everything you could imagine Luke doing, there your hands were trying to satisfy yourself. If you closed your eyes, you could convince yourself that it was him instead.

His cock would disappear into your pussy, thrusting in and out and causing you to whine. His fingers would circle your clit or pinch your nipples. He would palm your ass, or reach up to wrap his hand around your neck. He would reach just that spot…

You didn’t ever hear it when Luke opened the door and joined you in the room. He thought you knew he was coming, with the way you were whining his name and begging for him. Your eyes snapped open as he closed the door behind him and you quickly pulled your fingers out from inside of you.

Luke walked over to you and sank onto his knees between your legs. “Gimme a taste, love.”

You offered him your fingers, which he took into his mouth. He sucked on them softly for far too short a time, in your opinion, with the way his cheekbones became more prominent as he cleaned your fingers of your wetness.

“Tastes good,” he told you with a smile when he was finished.

“Thank you,” you replied, practically a whimper. Your chest felt tight, like someone was squeezing your heart in your chest. You were waiting, just waiting, for Luke to tell you what was next.

He rose to sit on the bed next to you, guiding you to shift over so you were sitting on his lap. “I’m going to spank you,” he whispered against your lips. “Just ten times. That’s all. It’ll go fast, but I’m not going to go easy on you. I know you can take it.” Luke kissed you again, snuck his tongue into your mouth for a quick, far too quick pass, before pulling back. “Turn over, baby, and lean over my knee, yeah?”

Your movements were slow, your brain turning foggy again like it was in the car. Luke helped you over his knee, still clothed. The contrast between how clothed he was and how naked you were almost made you drool. It was nearly embarrassing, being this down bad for Luke when he seemed to be completely fine, unaffected.

Luke snapped you out of your thoughts with a spank. The pain was only there for a split second before Luke was rubbing soothing circles over your skin. You shivered when he dipped his hand lower and trailed a finger through your folds.

“So wet,” he murmured.

You clenched down and he pulled away, only to deliver a second slap to your cheek. You shivered, goosebumps rising over your arms.

“So, baby, tell me,” Luke began, bringing down his hand again. “Why am I spanking you?” He waited for you to answer before bringing his hand down again. “Because I swallowed– oh– when you told me not to.”

“Mhm. Why else?”

Another spank. Now, it was starting to sting. Your ass had turned a pretty shade of pink that caused Luke to bite his lip and run his hands over your skin, feeling the heat radiate off the surface.

You were quiet. You weren’t quite sure. Holding his come in your mouth had been the punishment for not pulling off when he told you to. You had been slow to say please in the car, but that wasn’t ever something Luke would punish you for, just something he’d remind you to do. “For, um…” You trailed off, not sure what to say.

Luke scoffed and spanked you three times, harsh enough that his handprint stayed imprinted on your body for longer than it normally did when he spanked you. You cried out, your head dropping and tears welling up in your eyes.

“‘For, um,’” he mocked. “You don’t know? You’re that fucking dumb that you can’t remember what happened less than an hour ago?”

“Lu, please,” were the words that escaped your mouth instead of an answer to his question. They were teary and he almost stopped, almost, just because of how your voice shook.

“Please what?” He spat, another slap echoing throughout the room.

“I don’t know,” You sobbed. “I don’t know why you’re mad at me.”

“Five more,” Luke warned you and you nodded.

It took a lot out of you, agreeing for five more, but Luke wouldn’t do anything he didn’t think you could handle.

“How about this, baby?” Luke said. Slap. “For touching John’s hair the same way you touch mine?” Slap. “For letting the boys guide you into the restaurant like you’re their girlfriend, not mine.” Slap. “For sending John off to get me a drink when I told you to do so?” Slap. “For not listening?” Slap. “For being a fucking brat?”

You wailed, slumped against Luke. He got a good look at you in the mirror, boneless over his knee. He took in the red skin of your ass, tracing the line of his raised handprint.

“You’re mine,” Luke continued, sounding off. You turned your head towards the mirror, eyes hazy but still able to make him out. He was waiting for you to look at him, for your eyes to meet his. “You can’t– you can’t treat him like he’s special.”

And suddenly, it all clicked. Luke was jealous because he was scared of the same thing you’d skated around in your conversation right after the game. Luke wanted to be special, wanted you to see him and need him. He needed you to need him, to let him take control and take care of you and decide things for you, all because he didn’t want to be the person who lost everything because he wasn’t good enough. Even the idea that John could possibly take Luke’s place, as preposterous as it was to you, sent Luke into a spiral.

“Fuck me, Luke,” you said, voice shaky and light because of the headspace you were in. “Take me. I’m yours. Prove it.”

Gently, so gently in contrast to his prior actions, Luke helped you up and lay you down on your back on the bed, placing a pillow under your hips. You lay there for a few minutes, blinking slowly and watching as Luke shed his clothes and rummaged through his dresser drawers for something. His back was to you and you smiled to yourself, too fucked out to let out a giggle, at his backside. When Luke turned around, two of his gameday ties in hand, he cocked his head to the side at your smile.

“What are you smiling about?” He asked.

“Boy butts are so funny,” You answered. “They’re just so small. Like… where are your hips, Lu?”

Luke blinked a few times, then shook his head. “Oh my God, you’ve lost it.”

“I’ve been thinking it. We need to get you in the gym.”

“You’re being a brat.”

“And your butt is small.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Luke scoffed. He had walked to the bed and was tying one of your hands to his headboard.

“I’m waiting.”

Luke huffed out a laugh at your response. “You’re making it hard to dom you, baby.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, was the road head not enough?”

Luke shushed you, moving to your other hand and tying that one with the other tie.

“What about the spitting in my mouth and spanking me?” You continue, goading him.

Luke crawled up your body, kissing up your stomach and chest and neck as he went.

One more sentence, and he wouldn’t find it so difficult to dominate you for this final stretch.

He’s hovering over your lips, his breath fanning out over them.

“I bet Johnny could do it better.”

Luke pulled back, jaw dropped. His mouth returned to a strait line and his eyes turned murderous. There it was, there’s the dominance that he thought he lost.

You smirked at him, proud of yourself for the comment you made, until Luke’s palm made contact with your cheek. Your head turned with the impact and you swore your heart stopped. You were too surprised to say anything. As the seconds of silence passed where you and Luke just stared at each other, same shocked expression on your face, you realized: huh. That’s not so different from when he spanks me.

Then, another second after that: That was kind of… hot.

“Are you okay?” Luke breathed out. He’s practically frozen in place.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Oh my God, Luke, yeah.” You pulled on the restraints above you, itching to get him inside of you. You circled your legs around his waist and raised your hips, trying to make contact with him. “Fuck, Lu, that was so hot, please fuck me.”

Luke blinked twice and searched your face for any discomfort, anything that would show him that you were upset or hurt by his slap. He hadn’t even done it intentionally, just driven by the pure rage of you mentioning John, saying that John could be better for you than Luke was.

It wasn’t until your wiggling hips caused his cock to make contact with your weeping pussy that he began to move.

He started by pinning your hips down.

“Greedy,” he chastised.

“I need you in me, don’t treat me like I’m made of glass,” you whined.

Luke positioned himself at your entrance and snapped his hips forward, burying himself inside you in one fell swoop.

It knocked all the breath out of you. Even after dating Luke for ages, his size still surprised you.

“How’s that, huh? Can you feel me? Do you think I’m treating you gently?” Luke asked, grinding his teeth as he fucked in and out of you. His skin was slapping against yours and he moved one of our legs so your knee was thrown over his shoulder. “You think Marino could fuck you like this?” He practically spat out John’s name, disgust coating each syllable.

“Probably,” you quipped, your voice snarky. You were itching for Luke to slap you again, or something, because he wasn’t giving it everything. He was still shaken up by the fact that he hit you at all.

“‘Probably,’” He repeated, incredulous. “You’ll never know, will you, baby?” He snaps his hips harder, faster. “This is my pussy. It only gets wet for me, you only spread your legs for me, you can be a slut all you want but only in the confines of these four walls. You can be bad, only right here… where I’m able to fuck. it. out. of you.”

You moan, wanton and long in the back of your throat. Your hands are aching to grab his hair, to twist the curls between your fingers. “Lu, my hand,” you told him.

“What about it?” He asked, not slowing his pace.

“Untie it, please!”

Luke looked down at you, confused. “Why?”

You whined, keening as your back arched and you squeezed his cock. “Need to get a hand on you, Lu, fuck. Wanna pull your hair. So pretty, so much prettier than John’s.”

“Oh,” he whispered, his stomach turning. He reached up to undo the knot, trying to continue to fuck you and untie it at the same time. When your hand came free, it immediately found purchase in his curls. Your fingernails scraped his scalp and his eyes rolled in the back of his head as he bucked into you with uncoordinated thrusts. “Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned. “Gonna make me come.”

“Please,” you begged. “Inside me, inside me–”

Your vision went white and your pussy was like a vice around him as you came.

“Yeah, yeah,” Luke agreed, voice strained. He watched the bliss wash over your features and whined. “Fuck you til you’re full, show everyone you’re all mine.”

It’s the thought of pumping his seed into you, making you round with his child, that sends Luke over the edge. No one would think to take you from him then, not that you’d ever go. No one would ever be able to call you theirs like he could call you his, not when he’s fucked you full, not when you’re carrying his baby.

“So perfect for me,” Luke mumbled in your ear, collapsing on top of you as he came down from his orgasm.

“Just for you, Lu.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You paused, rubbing his back. “You know we have to talk about this, right? You’re more than enough and I don’t want you to feel insecure anymore.”

Luke pulled himself out of you, wincing at the sensitivity. “Can we talk about it tomorrow? I think we could both use some rest.”

He got up from the bed and walked into his bathroom, grabbing a towel and coming back to wipe you clean.

“Can it wait that long?” You fixed him with a look of concern.

“Baby.” Luke cut his eyes at you, then finished wiping you down. “It can wait until tomorrow.”

You shrugged. “Okay,” you agreed, then made yourself comfortable, pulling the covers over your body. You turned over, back to Luke, and spoke like it was an afterthought. “I loved it when you slapped me, you know.”

Luke groaned, leaned over to give you a kiss on your cheek. “I’m sorry I was mean.”

“Mmm, mean Luke gets me hot just like sweet Luke,” you replied. You turned your head and kissed his lips. “I like sweet Luke more, though. Sweet Luke cuddles me while I’m asleep.”

Luke laughed, going to toss the dirty towel in the dirty clothes hamper. “Sweet Luke will be back to cuddle you after he brushes his teeth,” he said.

When he returned, your breath was even and you had already fallen asleep, the ghost of a smile still gracing your lips. Luke bit his tongue, joined you under the covers, and threw his arm over the curve of your waist. Within just a few minutes, he was fast asleep next to you, softly snoring with his nose pressed into your hair.

notes: so, I, uh..... got a little carried away. I just kept having ideas. And I hope it worked out for me, to be fair. Hiiiiiii anon I hope this was good for youuuu love you bigggg I felt so awky-tawky writing some of this because as much as I would looooove a man to treat me like this, it feels so silly to write. Anyway. Loving y'all.

SEND MORE REQUESTS! I'LL GET TO THEM EVENTUALLY (they might not all be this long LOLLL)

#puck-luck's fics #luke hughes #luke hughes smut #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x y/n #nhl smut #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #lh43 #andy writes anything🍄

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velaryon-seahores · 8 months

Text

Eclipsed Love Part II.

Pairing : Aemond Targaryen x Fem!reader ( Modern au )

synopsis : You and Aemond shared a romantic bond during your high school years. However, your relationship took a turn when an unexpected pregnancy altered the dynamics. Aemond, driven by aspirations of pursuing a career in medicine, struggled to reconcile his dreams with the newfound responsibilities. Meanwhile, the financial constraints and fear of revealing the situation to your strict parents left you without options, making abortion unattainable. When Aemond chose to end the relationship, you made the difficult decision to vanish, seeking a fresh start. Years later, your son fell seriously ill, necessitating medical attention. The twist in the tale was that the doctor who held the key to your son's recovery happened to be none other than his biological father, Aemond.

Warning: angst, hurt/comfort. Literally that’s it.

Word count : 3.9k

A/n : comments likes and reblogs are highly appreciated!❤️

This chapter was superrrrrrrrr long I had to split it into two, this might be a boring chapter because Unfortunately I had to cut out the important scene but bare with me, I promise we will have grays anatomy type of drama

Part I Part III

Stabbed in the heart.

As you laid eyes on him and his voice reached your ears, it felt like a sharp dagger had been plunged into your heart.

Across the passing years, you toiled ceaselessly to mend the pain he had sown within you. Each effort, a step toward stitching the wounds he had inflicted, aiming to stride forward. But in a mere heartbeat, his very presence shattered it all. Your hand instinctively found your chest, fingers cradling the pieces of your broken heart, keeping them from falling apart.

And right then, a wave of understanding washed over you – the truth hit home with stunning clarity. You saw, as if for the first time, that your wounds had never fully healed, that the notion of moving on was a fragile illusion. Here, tears tracing a familiar path down your cheeks, you stood in that bathroom, a parallel to the sixteen-year-old you, the girl whose heart he shattered.

Oh, the heartlessness of fate, forcing you to revisit the day that haunted your fears, compelling you to endure once more the darkest hours of your existence. It was the day when dreams crumbled into dust, love turned into ashes, and you were never the same again.

A bitter laugh escaped your lips as your gaze met its reflection in the mirror. Qoren's knocks at the door, your tears falling, Aemond as their cause – the scene was hauntingly familiar. Too familiar.

How cruel fate is for making you repeat the scenario.

How cruel.

Ten years ago..

During lunch break, you stood alone behind the school walls. In the same spot you and Aemond would usually meet to have some passionate sex session, but now you anxiously waited for Aemond, your hands tightly clenched in fear.

A hand embraced you, pulling you close against a firm chest. "Already missing me?"

Aemond.

A quivering exhale escaped your lips, carrying with it the weight of your emotions, as you turned gracefully into his embrace, enveloped by the security of his arms with your head buried in his warm chest.

“ Hey baby.. what’s wrong?” He asked as he pulled you away from him, cupping your face in his large hands to look at you “ What’s wrong!”

Tears flowed freely, your sobs becoming a river of emotions. Aemond pulled you into his embrace once more, holding you close and gently cradling your head as he hushed your cries. "Y/n, love, please tell me. What's happened? Talk to me."

With trembling lips, you managed to speak amidst the tears. "I... I'm pregnant."

You felt his hand go still, and you could sense him holding his breath as the weight of your words sank in. "What?" His voice was a mixture of shock and disbelief.

Looking up at him through tear-blurred eyes, you saw his expression transform into one of horror and disbelief. "I'm pregnant," you repeated, your voice quivering.

"How?" The word escaped his lips, laden with a sense of disbelief and confusion.

Your voice was strained as you recounted the events leading up to this moment. "Your brother, Aegon's party," you explained, your voice catching as you relived the memory. "We were drunk, and you forgot to wear a condom... I think I forgot to take the pill."

Aemond's grip on you seemed to loosen, his hand slipping into his hair as his distress became evident. "My parents are going to kill me if they find out, Aemond! My mother... she noticed it before me, and she's going to take me to the ob—"

"Get rid of it," he interrupted sharply, his tone cutting through the air with a firmness you had never heard before, catching you off guard.

You tried to explain, your voice strained with fear and anxiety. "You know that my family only gives me a strict amount of money! And... I'm scared to have an abortion at home—"

"What do you want me to do?" His tone grew a little louder, causing you to flinch.

"Aemond!" You looked at him, confusion and hurt in your eyes. Why was he reacting this way? "My mother is taking me to the doctor tomorrow morning! She won't even let me go to school! You know how they view the whole 'being pregnant before marriage' thing."

Desperation filled your gaze as you took his hand in yours, holding it tightly. "Just lie to them! Tell them we'll get married after sch—"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" He took steps back from you, his voice rising. "I'm not getting married. I'm still young."

"And you won't! I said just lie." You pleaded with your eyes, hoping he would understand. "Just until they forget abo—"

"I'm not raising kids," he interrupted once again, his tone unwavering. "I applied for college just a week ago! I need to focus on my studies, I need to focus on my dreams. I don't have time to look after a fucking child. I've worked hard for this, and I'm not dropping anything in my last fucking year." He glared at you. "Get rid of it. I don't care how, just... get rid of it and don’t talk to me until you do so!" And with that, he walked away.

You had held onto the hope that he would console you, reassure you that everything would be alright. But instead, his departure left you with a sense of vulnerability and pain. The person who had vowed to stand by you had vanished when you needed him most. The person who drew stars around every scar you had, left you to bleed, alone.

Your sweet Aemond left you with a bigger scar. A scar that you weren’t sure if the stars would heal.

An hour ticked by, and you remained rooted in the same place, tears flowing freely, unchecked. Uncertainty gripped you; you felt lost. The thought of your parents discovering the truth filled you with dread. Their strict beliefs would likely lead them to demand that you keep the baby, only to give it away or face disownment. It was a future you didn't want. The idea of nurturing this life within you, only to have it taken away, was agonizing.

In the end, you sought refuge in the school bathroom, seeking the seclusion of one of the stalls. There, you let your tears flow, a torrent of emotions consuming you. It was only when your friend Qoren broke through the door that you found a lifeline, pulling you out of the depths of your despair.

"Y/n, don't make me break this door!" Qoren's voice echoed urgently, and an unexpected laughter bubbled out of you.

Wiping away your tears, you gazed at your reflection in the mirror for a brief moment, collecting yourself. You knew you had to bury these overwhelming emotions; you had no other choice. Your son's health was fragile; his heart was weak, and the last thing you wanted was to stress him. Protecting him from worry was paramount.

Closing your eyes, you inhaled deeply, finding solace in the whispered reassurance you offered yourself. "I'm okay," you murmured, a quiet mantra, like a promise to both yourself and your sweet child.

You had intended to linger a bit longer, hoping to regain your composure, but as soon as you heard Luke's voice behind the door, an urgency propelled you to open it without delay.

"Mom! What happened? Are you okay?" Luke's worry spilled out as the door swung open. Your gaze flickered to Qoren first, who extended his hand to you immediately, guiding you out of the bathroom.

Glancing upwards, your eyes met Qoren's, his subtle shake of the head conveying a shared understanding.

"It's because of the doctor, is it not?" Luke's earnest eyes held yours once more.

Your breath caught in your throat as you formulated a response, the urge to shield your son from unease overpowering. "No, sweetheart, not because of that," you lied, masking your true emotions. "I'm just worried about you."

Unconvinced, Luke continued to study you. "I don't believe you."

Your reassurances faltered, and you stood, gently taking his small hand in yours, guiding him back to the bed. "It's true," you insisted, your voice bearing the weight of your sincerity. "He's a specialist, a heart surgeon. I've heard he only takes on serious cases, and it made me anxious."

"But I'm fine," Luke's voice held a note of certainty as he reassured you, his hand reaching out to clasp yours.

"We know, buddy," Qoren's presence offered additional comfort as he stood beside you, his arm enveloping your shoulders in a gesture of support. "But we still worry about you."

"Why did he walk away?"

"Perhaps he forgot something," you suggested.

"Yeah, like his stethoscope or something," Qoren added.

Luke surveyed the two of you for a contemplative moment before finally nodding.

Unable to resist the urge, you showered Luke's head with affectionate kisses before enveloping him in a tight embrace. "Hungry?" you inquired gently.

His next request pulled at your heartstrings. "Can I have a turkey sandwich?"

A soft chuckle escaped you, warmth filling your eyes. "Of course."

Glancing at Qoren, you exchanged a silent understanding, and with a nod, you indicated for him to step outside with you.

"I'll check with the doctor while you go grab something to eat from the cafeteria," Qoren suggested, his gaze on Luke. "Is it all right if you stays here alone for a little while?"

"Sure," Luke replied, his attention already shifting back to his iPad.

As you and Qoren stepped out, the door closing behind you, your apprehension spilled forth. "I don't want that fucker anywhere near my son," your voice was tense, carrying a hint of urgency that made Qoren look around nervously.

"We'll find another doctor," Qoren's voice was a soothing balm, his reassurance gentle. "There must be more skilled surgeons available. If you wish, we can even consider transferring him to another hospital. My father knows good doctors in Essos; we can explore that option. And please, don't worry about expenses—I'll take care of it all."

Gratitude swelled within you, your eyes misting over. He drew you closer, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "Come, let's go talk to the doctor," he urged softly.

Half an hour had slipped by, and Aemond remained confined within the hospital, in the bathroom in the surgeon's lounge. He couldn't bring himself to move, his body shaking too much to even get to his car and drive home. He sat on the bathroom floor, waiting anxiously for his sister Helaena to pick up the phone.

You…He saw you.

There you stood, a presence that seemed to pierce through his very being. The girl who had plagued his dreams, who had woven herself into every conscious moment and every corner of his mind. The girl he had fervently tried to erase, burying himself in the pages of books and the rigors of surgeries. For a decade, he had scoured the realms of social media, reached out to your parents, and maintained contact with your friends in the hopes of catching a glimpse of your existence. And now, here you were, finally in front of him. But he chose to walk away once more.

In truth, he had no choice but to leave. He couldn't ignore the pain etched in your eyes, the anger that radiated from you. He couldn't deny the depths of hurt that he had caused, nor could he offer any words that could possibly erase or atone for his actions.

Stupid Aemond... Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Regret and self-loathing coursed through his thoughts, a relentless self-critique that echoed within him. He recognized the depth of his mistake, the gravity of his choices. As he remained perched on the bathroom floor, he grappled with the weight of his own shortcomings, the realization of the missed opportunities and the pain he had caused.

Finally, as if an eternity had passed, Helaena's voice broke through the silence.

"What... What the hell do you w—gods, Aemond, are you crying?" Her voice trembled, faltering as it caught the rawness in his.

"...She's here..." Aemond's voice quivered, his words trembling on the precipice of his emotions. His eyes, blurred by the veil of his tears, bore a weight that seemed almost unbearable. "She... She's here, Helaena. I... I have a son."

There was a pause, a momentary silence on the other end of the line, as the gravity of his words began to unfurl. And then Helaena's voice, tinged with disbelief, spoke into his anguish. "Wait, wait, are you talking about... y/n?" Her words carried a mixture of confusion and shock. "She was in Dorne this whole ti—YOU HAVE A SON!"

Aemond's heart ached, a complex fusion of emotions waging a tempest within him. "I... She told me she had an abortion! She... She said she went through with it!" His grip on the phone faltered, and it tumbled from his hand to the floor, an emblem of his shattered resolve. "That was the last thing she said before she blocked me and disappeared."

The words hung heavily between them, a tapestry of regret and longing, of mistakes and missed chances. And then, Aemond's voice quivered with a tremor that seemed to encapsulate a lifetime of ache. "I know, Helaena. He's mine." His voice wavered, and in those words, a world of heartache was painted.

“ How do you know ?”

"He... He has my eyes, Helaena... purple eyes, just like mine. And his hair... He has our mother curls and a hint of silver “ The lump in his throat threatened to suffocate him, his words trembling on the brink of despair. "His nose, his lips... They're like mine."

But then, the dam broke. Aemond's voice cracked, and he was consumed by a tidal wave of sobs. "And he probably hates me... Just like I despised my father. Maybe he looks at me the way we once looked at Viserys."

In response, Helaena's voice was a soft anchor amidst the tumultuous sea of emotions. "You are not him, Aemond. You couldn't have known."

"I did," Aemond's voice quivered, his palm pressing against his chest as though to contain the shards of his own heart from shattering. "I knew... And yet, I asked her to get rid of him... I'm worse than Viserys."

"Have you talked to her?" Helaena's voice was a whisper, a thread of hope laced with a touch of reproach.

"No... I ran away," his admission was a painful whisper, an admission of his own inadequacy.

"Aemond..." Disappointment laced her voice, a mirror to the disappointment he felt in himself.

"What am I supposed to do?" The question held a pang of helplessness, a plea that seemed to stretch beyond the confines of words. "No matter what I say, it won't change anything. No matter what I do, I can't erase my past. I can't undo what's been done. I can't bring back y/n."

Helaena's response was a bittersweet echo, a reflection of truth and reconciliation. "You're right. You can't undo the past, and you won't get her back. But grant her the peace of mind by letting her know that you have suffered. Tell her you regret everything, that every breath is a reminder of the choices that drove her away. Tell her you're miserable, that life has lost its meaning, that the ambition you sought so tirelessly now rings hollow. She lost so much, Aemond. Her family, her dreams, her stability... she bore the weight of your absence alone. You won't get y/n, but you can at least do right by her ."

The dam within Aemond burst, his voice muffled by sobs"But I want her back. I want her to look at me again with those eyes that once held love."

There was a poignant pause "I'm afraid that won't happen, Aemond," her voice held a gentle sorrow, a reflection of the choices that had led them here. "You brought this upon yourself."

"Then what do I do, Helaena?" His voice was a fragile whisper, an echo of his vulnerability in its purest form. "Tell me, please."

"Go find her," her voice held a quiet resolve, a beacon of guidance through the haze of his pain. "Do what I told you. I'll book a flight, be with you in a few hours."

“Please hurry," Aemond's voice quivered with plea "Please, I need you."

"Gather yourself, Aemond," her voice was an anchor, a lifeline he desperately clung to. "Wash your face, and go."

And as the call ended, he was left alone with his shattered heart, the burden of his mistakes weighing heavily upon him. Struggling to his feet, Aemond rose from the cold bathroom floor, his hand clutching the sink for support. He gripped the faucet and let the frigid water flow, splashing it onto his face again and again in a desperate attempt to snap himself out of his overwhelming state. His gaze lingered on his own reflection in the mirror for a few moments, as if searching for answers that remained just out of reach.

With a heavy sigh, he turned away from the sink, leaving the lounge and heading towards his son room.

Standing behind lucerys room, Aemond gently knocked the door, his hand trembling and so is his breath and legs. Withe shakuy hand ge reach for the door handle and open it.

The room was empty, only his son in inside, Lucerys was looking at him up and down.

“ H..Hello, young man “ his lips trembled with each word leaving his mouth “ Where is your mother?”

Lucerys expression were that of disgust, but then he immediately turned them to neutral “ Cafeteria “

“ And.. and your ..father?” Those words that he forced out of his lips cuts him deep.

“ He was supposed to talk to you “ Lucerys let go of his ipad and flooded his arms in front of him.

“ Me?”

“ Yes you, aren’t you my heart doctor ? “ Lucerys raised his brows.

“ Ah. He must went to the pediatrician. And there has been some changes, so I’m not your doctor anymore “

Lucerys humm and looked him up and down before returning back to his ipad “ you should leave then “

Aemond looked at him for few minutes, swallowing thickly “ I .. Can I check on your heart ?”

“ sure “

Aemond nodded and hesitantly walked towards him, he got out his stethoscope and listened to his heart beat, it was irregular but there was no crackling sound so he was okay for now.

He then looked at his ancle and there was no swelling so he was safe and the danger of heart failure was not high.

“ You are fine, your heart is stable for now “ Aemond sadly smiled “ You will be alright “

Lucerys didn’t respond, he just put on his headphones and gave him a quick fake smile before paying attention to his ipad.

He took a step toward the door, a faint smile playing on his lips as he contemplated how much Lucerys resembled his uncle, Aegon. But as he moved to leave, something froze him in his tracks. His head snapped back toward the sound, eyes widening, and his throat tightened painfully.

"Qogralbar ao kepa, kirimvogon Jaes ziry geptot ao." ( Fuck you dad, thank god she left you )

Aemond turned back to face Lucerys, his expression a mix of shock and realization. His throat constricted, and his lips parted, but no words came forth.

"I’m not stupid, I have eyes and I can see the resemblance, I knew you looked familiar. Plus my mom’s behavior confirmed it all to me, crying over a silver head with eyes that look like mine? can’t she be more obvious. Not to mention that she is a terrible liar ” Luke shook and looked out the window for few minutes, “ You made her cry earlier, and if she sees you, she might cry again," his voice laced with determination as he returned to look at him "And I..." luke tilted his head, his young eyes locked onto Aemond's. "Don't like to see my mother cry. So get the fuck out and don’t you ever bother her again "

Aemond's heart weighed heavier than it ever had before, burdened by a sadness he had never known. His worst fears had materialized before him, unfolding like a nightmare he couldn't escape. In the story of Lucerys's life, he was cast as Viserys, and you, y/n, had become the haunting reflection of his own mother, Alicent. The parallels were undeniable, a stark reminder that history had a cruel way of repeating itself.

Yet, he knew, deep within, that he was not his father. He was not the same. He might not be able to win you back, but he was determined to be unlike the man who had hurt him and countless others. Just as Helaena had advised, he would give you the peace of mind you deserved, something his own mother had never found, not even in Viserys's final moments.

His voice trembled with regret as he whispered to Lucerys, "I'm sorry, kid. Forgive me." With those words, he left the room, his heart heavy with the weight of his past mistakes, and headed toward the cafeteria, where he would seek you out, hoping for a chance to make amends, even if he couldn't turn back time or erase his transgressions.

You stood in line at the bustling cafeteria, surrounded by a cacophony of chatter, clinking dishes, and the soft hum of refrigeration units. Your mind weighed heavily with the day's decisions, the uncertainty of your son's health, and the resurgence of someone you'd hoped to forget.

After leaving the doctor's office, you had meticulously sifted through profiles and recommendations until you found a new physician for Luke—Doctor Arthur Dayne. His impressive track record and friendly demeanor had reassured you.

Qoren had volunteered to stay behind, intent on gathering all necessary details about potential surgeries or treatments. It was a relief to know you had a friend who would shoulder some of the weight while you ventured to fetch a turkey sandwich for Luke.

Thoughts swirled like a tempest in your mind—Luke's health and the shadow it cast over his future, the practicalities of appointments and treatments, and, looming above all else, his fucking father.

the lady at the cafeteria counter snapped you out of your reverie with a cheery, "Hello, ma'am."

You blinked, momentarily disoriented, before responding, "Hi." Your voice carried a hint of distraction as you glanced at the menu. "I'll have a turkey sandwich, please. And could you cut it in half? Make one of them small."

The cafeteria worker nodded with practiced ease, jotting down your order before turning to assemble it.

You offered a small, reflexive smile but couldn't shake the heaviness that lingered within you. It was a weight you'd grown accustomed to, the burden of being a single parent facing life's uncertainties head-on.

While you waited, you couldn't help but contemplate your own well-being. You'd started to consider seeking therapy, recognizing that burying your feelings wouldn't help. You needed a way to express them, process the trauma, and find a path to healing.

"Here you go!" The cafeteria worker presented you with the bag, accompanied by a warm smile that momentarily lifted your spirits.

You reached into your purse to retrieve your wallet,"Thank you," you offered,

With your wallet safely back in your purse, you turned your attention to making your way through the cafeteria, eager to reunite with Luke. But as you moved, you accidentally bumped into a solid, warm form.

Looking up to apologize, your words caught in your throat as you realized who stood before you….

" Why did you tell me you had an abortion ? "

Taglist :

@namelesslosers @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @fernanda-reads @moonlightazriel @topaz125 @justrybca @girlwith-thepearlearring @anehkael @teamstorybooks @riseandreigns4u @noemienakamoto @lijeno @watercolorskyy @afro-hispwriter @khaleesihel @praline357 @fantasticpeaceharmony @brianochka @sweethoneyblossom1 @happinessinthebeing @snh96 @heavenly1927 @zenka69 @toodlesxcuddles @lunamoonbby @blairfox04 @multiple-fandoms-girl @tsujifreya @tempo-rary-fix @lipgloss05 @carriellie @dc-marvel-girl96 @fan-goddess @strangersunghoon @daenerysqueenofhearts @notnormalthings-blog @bluevxnus @Littlelilly27-blog

@misspascalpunk @exitpursuedbyavulcan @saminalloxo @trshngyn @docmartinis @drmeghanjones

My apologies if I forgot anyone.

— Next chapter we have a FIGHT

#aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen angst #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen fanfic #prince aemond #modern aemond #hotd au #aemond au #modern helaena #helaena targaryen

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janaispunk · 18 days

Text

come morning light

chapter 2 • series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: An injured Joel and Ellie stumble into your home in the middle of the night. Against your better judgement, you decide to help them.

word count: ~2.5k

tags/warnings: post outbreak, slow burn, found family, age gap (sorry not sorry), able-bodied reader, angst, reader has a sad sad backstory and ptsd, hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual smut, vague description of an injury

a/n: i'm finally finished with chapter 2, and once again nervous af about it haha. there's not terribly much happening in this one, but i promise we'll get there, it just needs the buildup :)

thank you @catchallfangirl for beta reading <3

follow @janaispunknotifs for fic updates and find my full masterlist here :)

dividers as always by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

You don’t feel like you’ve slept at all, but after hours of tossing and turning in the darkness of your bedroom, you think it’s probably time to get up.

You’re halfway convinced that last night’s events were a product of your imagination, that your mind has felt so lonely that it conjured up the whole scenario. But when you step out of your bedroom and find the door of your parents’ bedroom only halfway closed, the way you have never left it before saying good night to Ellie earlier, you have to come to terms with the fact that this might actually be your reality.

Ellie seems to be sound asleep, a lump under the covers, softly breathing, but when you head to the living area and switch on one of the smaller lamps, you’re met with the piercing glare of Joel. He’s still lying on the couch, much like you left him, still pale, still dark shadows under his eyes, but he’s much more awake now, his gaze following your every move.

“Hey,” you say softly, sinking down on the same armchair that you sat in when you watched him last night while Ellie took a shower. You suppress a shudder at the way he regards you, his eyes flicking up and down your body, taking in your size, you presume, searching for weapons. Your gun is tucked into the waistband at the back of your pants, which you’re sure he’s already aware of. You don’t like the way he makes you feel, like somehow you’re intruding on him. You should have the upper hand, this is your home and he’s injured, you helped him for crying out loud, and here you are, nervously watching his every move. You did the right thing. It’s gonna be fine.

“Where’s Ellie?” he asks, ignoring your greeting, his voice gruff.

“Sleeping,” you reply, nodding your head to the bedroom door. “She’s okay, I promise.”

Some of the tension seems to release from his body and he slumps back down a little, but the distrust in his expression when he looks at you doesn’t waver. Then again, you’re probably not much different.

“Look,” you sigh, “I’m not playing some kind of game here. You came into my house, I saw that you needed help, so I helped.” You try to infuse your voice with as much confidence as you can. “Don’t make me regret that, okay?”

He shrugs, a noncommittal grunt the only verbal answer. It could potentially be interpreted as a thanks, you guess. In a less tense situation, you’d probably grow annoyed by now. Shrugging yourself, you get to your feet and head to the kitchen. Anything to escape the way he’s watching your every movement.

“Hey, do you want coffee?” You don’t really want to offer him any, but you’d feel weird drinking it yourself without asking.

He pipes up at the question, head turning in your direction, his face the most open that you’ve seen it yet. “You have coffee?”

“Yeah.” That’s why I’m fucking asking.

“I– yes.” A breath, a second of him not meeting your eyes. “Thanks.”

You smile, small, fleetingly, busying yourself with the ground beans and the boiling water, reveling in the smell that slowly spreads throughout the room. It reminds you of happier times, when the world was still normal.

He has pushed himself into a sitting position, breathing heavily, when you walk over to hand him the steaming cup, still careful to keep your distance.

After you sit back down, the both of you stay silent for a few minutes. You enjoy the bitter taste on your tongue, the way you slowly feel your energy rising.

“Does it hurt much?” you ask eventually, gesturing towards his stomach.

Another grunt, the hint of a head shake.

“So it does.” He opens his mouth, the protest most likely already on his tongue, and you raise an eyebrow. “I have painkillers, are you sure that you–”

“No.” It comes fast, his voice raised, no room for arguments.

You instinctively flinch back at the unexpected louder sound, the cup shaking in your grip. You set it down on the table in front of you. Have your hands free, just in case.

There’s a hint of regret in his eyes, his free hand slightly raised, palm open. He’s trying to calm you down, you realize.

“Okay,” you breathe, working hard to keep your voice steady, “no painkillers, got it.”

“Sorry,” he mutters, his face half hidden, words almost lost behind the cup. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s alright,” you tell him as much as yourself.

You’ve gotten jumpy, not used to loud sounds anymore, raised voices, not used to humans in general, you suppose. You hadn’t fully realized it until now, until there’s other humans around you again.

“Thank you,” he continues unexpectedly, “not just for the coffee, but– you know.” He’s struggling, the words not coming easily, but you think that he’s being earnest. “Patching me up.”

“Of course.” You nod hastily, your heart still beating a little too fast.

Another moment passes in silence, both of you slowly sipping the coffee. He’s looking around, taking in his surroundings, eyes lingering on the closed wooden doors and the stairs leading up. You try not to get nervous about it. It’s normal that he would want to know more about where he is, after all.

“This is the basement, right? Is it safe?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “No way to get in from outside.” As long as you stay inside, you’re safe.

He hums, appreciatively, you think.

“How long have you been living here?”

“Always. It’s my parents’ house. I mean–” you laugh, but it comes out hollow, “we lived upstairs, obviously. But my dad was… kinda crazy. Or– not that crazy, I guess, all things considered.” Your lips curl into a wry smile.

Your mind flashes back to long lectures about survival techniques, learning how to shoot, your father going on and on about first aid, hunting, all the things that you couldn’t have cared less about as a teenage girl, but were ingrained in your brain nonetheless. You’re grateful, now, but it’s laced with guilt about how often you snapped at your father, how often you told him he was paranoid, seeing dangers that weren’t there, that he was wasting your time. You couldn’t have known, the rational part of you argues. But you can never take it back now, the guilt whispers.

When you look up, Joel’s eyes are on you, eyebrows raised in question. You shake your head, trying to clear it. Stay in the present.

“Sorry, what did you–?”

Worry is painting his expression. “Are you okay?”

Don’t show weakness. “Yeah, of course. Just spaced out for a second.”

You force a smile onto your face and stand up rather abruptly, gathering both cups and putting them into the sink. Joel hasn’t moved, but you feel his eyes on you as you move.

“Do you, um, do you want to shower, maybe? Or just wash up, I don’t know, how–” You gesture towards the dried bloodstain on his flannel, forcefully keeping your tone light. “I have clean clothes, too, if you want.”

A shiver runs through you at the thought of going through your dad’s things, of someone else wearing them. He doesn’t need them anymore. He’s not coming back.

You know that you’ve gone silent for too long again even before you see Joel’s expression. He doesn’t ask this time, but there’s something in his eyes that you can’t place, something that almost looks like understanding.

“Yeah, I guess cleaning up a bit would be nice. I– thank you. Again”

His voice is gruff and he avoids your eyes. You think that he doesn’t like it, having to thank you. Owing you.

Giving him a nod, you head to the bedroom, hoping not to disturb Ellie, but she’s awake already, her eyes glinting in the light that’s falling into the dark room from the living area. You clench your jaw, heading for one of the drawers, trying hard not to think about what you’re doing. It’s not like he ever wore this stuff, it was just sitting down here. It’s fine, you’re fine.

“Don’t worry, it’s not about you,” Ellie says quietly from beside you, breaking through your racing thoughts.

You turn towards her, confusion on your face. “What is?”

“Joel,” she shrugs, still keeping her voice low. “He’s like that with everyone. He’s a bit of an asshole, really.” She sounds fond, saying it, like it’s an endearing character trait.

A surprised laugh escapes you. “I– okay, thanks, I guess.”

She waves it away, swinging her feet out of the bed. “No, thank you for not murdering me in my sleep.”

“Yeah, likewise.” You shake your head, still laughing to yourself. It’s so easy to like the girl, to feel like you already know her.

You hand Joel a pile of clothes, purposefully avoiding to look at them too closely, explain where the towels are and he grumbles his approval before the bathroom door closes behind him.

You release a breath and close your eyes for a second. You are undeniably warming up to Ellie, finding it almost impossible not to, but her companion is a different story.

“Hey, do you drink coffee?” you ask in the direction of the bedroom.

“Ew, no!” comes her reply as she steps out of the door, collecting the wild mess of hair on the top of her head and securing it in a ponytail.

Her offense at the mere suggestion makes you chuckle under your breath as you busy yourself with preparing breakfast in the form of porridge instead. She’s leaning against the doorframe, watching you, her eyes wide as she takes in the cupboards full of supplies.

You’re glad that you don’t need anything from the storeroom, keeping that door in the corner firmly closed. You want to trust her, want to trust them, but a feeling of unease still lingers at the thought of letting them know just how much you have.

Instead, you voice another question, a thought that fills you with unease as well.

“Hey,” you begin, keeping your eyes trained on the stove, “I’m sorry, but you and Joel, there– there isn’t anything weird going on, is there?”

“Like what?” She sounds slightly defensive, but when you steal a glance at her, she’s eyeing you with curiosity.

“I don’t know, like…” You shrug, stirring the mixture of water and oats, “you want to be here, he’s not forcing you to come with him or anything, right?”

“No, don’t worry about that,” comes her reply, almost amused. It was a bit of a stupid question, when you think about it, considering how worried she was about him last night, how protective.

“Okay,” you smile at her. You’re curious nonetheless, how they ended up together and where they’re headed, but it’s probably not really your place to ask.

You divide the porridge into three bowls and hand her one, while you carry yours and one for Joel back to the living area and set them down on the wooden table.

Ellie starts shoveling the food down immediately and you’re left wondering once more what happened to them and when they last ate something.

“So…” Ellie begins, her mouth still half full, “you’re just down here with all this food? Because your dad stored it here, before… things went to shit?”

You can’t blame her for her curiosity, you’re aware that you’ve probably found yourself in a better living situation than most people. Your thoughts go to the storeroom again, basically stuffed with enough supplies to last you multiple lifetimes, especially now that it’s just… No.

You hum in affirmation, not trusting your voice and you’re thankful that she’s too distracted by her breakfast to notice anything weird about your reaction.

“So you don’t go out hunting or anything?” comes her next question. You freeze.

You did go hunting, back when you cared about variance in the meals you prepared, about using fresh ingredients when you could. Until there was no need for that any more.

You realize that Ellie is saying your name, not for the first time, judging from the look on her face.

“Sorry,” you mumble, your hands tightening around the bowl. “No, I- I don’t go hunting.”

If she finds the situation weird, she shrugs it off impressively fast.

She nods to herself, eating quietly for a minute, before she speaks up again. “So what do you… do? Down here all day?”

“Uh…” What is it that you do all day? Time has been blurring together, days without anything happening repeating on a constant loop. You realize that you don’t remember, can’t talk of any activities that are part of your day. How long has it been like this?

You’re relieved from having to answer by Joel emerging from the bathroom, his face pale and his breaths going heavy. He has put on the sweatpants you gave him, but his torso is bare, the skin around the injury still an angry red.

He sinks back down into the cushions with a heavy sigh and you quickly get to work, cleaning the wound once more and giving him more antibiotics before you redo the bandages and hope for the best. Your hands don’t shake as badly as they did last night.

Ellie gets him some water and pushes his bowl of porridge into his hands, urging him to eat, before she turns to you. She’s trying to be strong, to hide her worry, but the pleading look in her eyes when she asks you if he’s gonna be okay tells a different story.

“Of course,” you say, giving her what you hope to be a reassuring smile.

Joel does look better after he’s eaten something, but his eyelids are drooping and after a few more minutes, his eyes close and his breath evens out. You do the dishes and check the cameras, calming down a bit more when you’re sure that everything seems to be quiet upstairs.

When you return to the living area, Ellie is rummaging through her pack, muttering to herself, until she pulls a book out of, proudly turning the cover for you to read it. No pun intended - Volume Too.

She starts reading them to you while you settle back down with a second cup of coffee and you share her laughs, enjoying the way it makes her look lighter, allows her to be a kid who can laugh at stupid jokes. You ignore the sting it causes in your chest because you once knew someone who would have loved this book just as much as Ellie does.

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