#i was thinking more he likes him sweaty after a jog

[apoptoses]

Daniel would be getting the shrimp sweats and Armand would be like hmmmmm yeah baby 👅🫡 that’s 100% right 😮‍💨🤤 🔥 that’s what my man should be smelling like 24/7 🫦 💦 he likes that man stinky and sweaty we been knew!!!

anon i'm a seafood hater so this is taking me out, shrimp sweats sound FOUL lmao

but ykw you're not even wrong, i can see it, when daniel is really on a tirade about how tired he is of these dinners and he wants his reward and to be turned already. armand would just whip out a comment like this and stop that man in his tracks, immediate argument killer just for how out of line it is 💀

[rip-quizilla]

1405 Peach Tree Lane

Pairing: Older!Neighbor!Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You like to watch your older, tatted shirtless neighbor now his lawn. He likes to watch you laying by your parents’ pool in those swimsuits that make his mouth water. Eventually, the inevitable happens when he invites you across the street for a drink.

Word Count: 8.2K

Tags: 🔥SMUT, modern au, age gap (Eddie 40s, Reader 20s), daddy kink, praise kink, degradation kink, slight breeding kink, spitting, light dom/sub, unprotected sex (reader has an iud), oral sex, p in v sex, shower sex, masturbation in a hot tub

(A/N: This is some of the filthiest shit I think I've ever written. You're welcome. Also I was very quick with the proofread, so if you see any spelling or grammar mistakes, no you don't.)

💜💜💜

Everyone in the posh gated community of Forest Hills knew about 1405 Peach Tree Lane.

The house was beautiful, as were all the houses in the upper-crust neighborhood- but the house wasn’t what people paid attention to.

Every housewife in the neighborhood knew that if they were lucky and timed their morning jog just right, they’d catch a glimpse of the toned, inked-up adonis who lived there while he shirtlessly mowed his lush green lawn. 

You might not have done much speaking with the housewives in your parents’ neighborhood, but you knew about 1405 Peach Tree Lane- you had a perfect view of its front lawn from your lounge chair by the pool in your parents’ backyard. Luckily for you, all that separated your backyard from 1405 was a short wrought iron fence and a narrow stretch of road.

You didn’t mind living with your parents during the summers you spent home from college; they gave you plenty of freedom and while they were at work during the day, you got to spend the afternoon lounging by the pool, reading a book and soaking up the sun.  

As well as soaking up the view of the way that same sunlight glinted off Mr. 1405’s sweaty, ink-riddled skin. 

You didn’t speak to him- what would you even say? “Hi, it’s nice to meet you, my favorite part of the day is guessing what your tattoos mean.”? Or maybe, “Hey there neighbor, mind if I count the freckles on your shoulders? It’s for science.”

Eventually, the inevitable happened- he caught you staring. 

He didn’t make it awkward, though. In fact, from the way he simply smiled and waved at you, you wondered if he thought your eyes meeting him had just been a coincidence, and you hadn’t been ogling him for the past thirty minutes and some change. You’d smiled back, thankful for your huge sunglasses that hid the way your eyes had widened under his attention, and waved in return. 

An even bigger surprise had been that he spoke to you this time. 

“That book any good?” 

His voice, heavy with labored breathing under the exhaustion from finishing up his lawn work, had caught you completely off guard. You’d laughed nervously, sticking your bookmark between the pages and pushing yourself up from your face-down position on the flattened lounge chair. 

“Oh! Ah-ha, uhm, yeah!” you shifted your weight back until you were sitting on spread knees and looking up at the source of the voice. On the other side of your parents’ fence stood Mr. 1405 Peach Tree Lane, sweaty and slightly sunburned on the tops of his shoulders. His curly brown hair had been piled into a messy knot atop his head, and you took note of the details that you hadn’t noticed from far away- a smattering of silver studs that decorated his ears, along with one on his nose. Five o’clock shadow that dusted his jawline. A more detailed view of his tattoos, some of which looked older than others but all of which looked very, very sexy on this man who had so much sex appeal already. 

The crinkling of his plastic water bottle as he squeezed about half of it into his mouth filled the silence between you. After a loud gulp he piped up again.

“What’s it about?”

Your brow wrinkled confusedly before you remembered that he had just asked you about your book. “Oh!” you replied dumbly, looking down at the book as if you had completely forgotten that books even existed- looking at him had taken up your entire mental capacity, apparently. “It’s, uh, it’s a memoir! It’s this cool old lady’s life story, she does not hold back, so the narration is pretty hilarious a lot of the time.”

The inked-up Greek god smiled and nodded, eyebrows raising in interest. “That does sound good.” he mused, and his voice took on a slyer tone when he added, “What’s your definition of old, like thirty-five?” He chuckled as if he’d just told a funny joke, but your smile had all but fallen from your face. 

“That’s not old,” you replied, not taking the joke, “This author was in her late seventies when she published this book, but even with that being said, this book is just told through such a youthful spirit- it’s easy to forget how old the author is when looking at her words.” You gripped the paperback a little tighter in your sweaty hands. “Plus, old people definitely don’t have the energy to mow their own lawns, and I have a feeling you’re not thirty-five.” 

That seemed to catch him off-guard. A surprised laugh escaped him, exploding from his lips before they formed an intrigued grin and his arms crossed over his tattooed chest. 

“Oh yeah? How old do I look, then?”

You grinned back, making a show of removing your sunglasses so that you could peer at him with greater focus. “Hmmmmmm…thirty-six?” 

Another laugh, this one heartier than the last. “You flatter me, sweetheart.” 

God, his voice is like brown sugar.

You tried again. “Forty, then.”

“Older.”

“No way.”

His grin became a smirk. “Are you patronizing me right now?”

You threw up a girl scout salute. “Scout’s honor, I would never.” 

He chuckled. “Well, girl scout, I’ll be forty-five next month.”

“I’ll be sure to warn my parents about the rager you’ll be throwing.”

He peered up at your house behind you, like he just now noticed its- and your parents’- existence. “Nah,” he said, “No ragers for me, that ship sailed when I was your age.”

You smiled sweetly, placing your sunglasses atop your head. “At least let me bake you a cake, then, wouldn’t be neighborly to let you have a boring birthday.”

“You’d bake a cake for ‘lil old me, sweetheart?” His tattooed hand splayed over his heart, sweaty and shining in the blaring afternoon sun.

You giggled. You could get used to Mr. 1405 calling you ‘sweetheart’. 

“Sure thing, just tell me what name to write in between ‘happy birthday’ and ‘forever young’.”

A flash of dazzling white teeth replied, “Eddie. Eddie Munson.” 

That was when you rose a step above the housewives of Forest Hills- to them, he was still Mr. 1405, but to you? He was Eddie Munson.

You entertained yourselves with little conversations here and there whenever Eddie worked out on his lawn. You, always in a swimsuit and him, never wearing a shirt. You would ask him about his tattoos- what they symbolized, which ones he’d drawn himself before they were replicated on his flesh. He would ask you about what you were reading- it was always changing. Sometimes nonfiction, sometimes romance, fantasy, lit fic… he seemed impressed by your insatiable reading habits. 

One day, however, he’d been particularly interested in a book whose cover bore a bare-chested  gentleman and particularly busty woman in a corset. 

“What’s today’s read, girl scout?” Eddie had greeted you with a nod toward the obviously risque reading material and a knowing smirk as he let his arms dangle over the black bars of your fence. 

You looked up, glowing from the sweat that’s gathered on your dewy summer skin and smiled tightly. “Oh, just a period romance. Ball gowns, forbidden love, the scandalous touching of hands without gloves on- things like that.”

“From the looks of that cover, I don’t think their hands are the only naked body parts touching in that story.” 

You laughed, glancing at the cover as Eddie waggled his eyebrows. “You’re probably right, but who knows? I’m only on the second chapter. I’ll keep you posted though.” you punctuated that last part with a wink. 

“Oh please do, princess,” Eddie said with a wolfish grin. “I love a good smutty romance novel.” 

You gawked. “No way you read this shit, you’re bluffing.”

Eddie raised a hand as if swearing on a bible. “Scout’s honor.” he said, mimicking your swear from the day you’d met. 

You shook your head, smiling ear to ear. “You must be the first man I’ve met who openly admits to reading smut, and I respect that.”

Eddie shrugged. “Easiest way to know what women want- they’re literally writing me an instruction manual. It’d be stupid not to read them.”

You bit your bottom lip before you could stop yourself, making a mental note of that little tidbit of information. “And you enjoy them?”

“It’s porn, sweetheart,” he said, gazing at you incredulously. “Who wouldn’t enjoy it?”

“It’s porn with a plot.”

“I’m a sucker for a good plot, especially if the plot involves sucking.”

You barked out a laugh. “And one could also argue that it’s more emotional porn than physical.”

“Are you insinuating that I don’t have a heart? Because I’ve got one, princess, and it bleeds, it yearns-”

Eddie pantomimed grasping at his own heart in his chest, putting on a fucking one-man show as he hung onto the fence for dear life as if his heart were truly bleeding out. You laughed- that was something that seemed to happen more when Eddie was around- you laughed more than usual, so much that you found your cheeks aching whenever he walked away. 

This time, something else ached as you watched him return to his lawn. As you continued to read, you were acutely aware of the heat between your thighs, the wetness that accumulated as you pictured corseted girls and muscled viscounts making eyes at each other across a sea of dancing courtiers. You imagined yourself, cornered in a rich rose garden bathed in moonlight, struggling to stifle your moans as a man in a tailcoat left a mark on your neck. You felt his hand hiking up your layers of petticoats until it reached your thigh, the only thing separating skin from skin being the white fabric of his gloves. You pictured his eyes, brown and bottomless as he moaned at the feeling of your hands tangled and tugging on his soft brown curls-

Uh oh. 

You took a deep breath, bookmarked your page, and slipped into the cold water of the pool. You sincerely hoped that Eddie hadn’t been serious about an update on the smut in your novel; you didn’t exactly want to let slip that at some point, you’d stopped picturing the viscount and started picturing him. 

But would he mind? Would he be upset to know that you’d pictured his hands on you, his lips on your pulse, your fingers in his hair? 

You weren’t sure he would. 

In fact, you had a feeling he might actually picture you in situations that weren’t too different. After all, you weren’t blind- you’d noticed the way his eyes would flit down from your face when the two of you were talking. He didn’t seem to put much effort into hiding his once-overs, his raking gaze that seemed more than pleased by the way your swimsuits hugged your curves, pulled your cleavage together, cut higher on your hip than your shorts ever would. Whenever you pulled yourself up from lying on your stomach, you’d seen how his eyes followed your ass hungrily as it left his line of sight. 

That was the moment that you realized- Eddie Munson, more than likely, wanted to fuck you. 

And you definitely wanted to fuck him. 

So the next time he came over to see you after mowing his lawn, you offered him a beer. 

“I’m already halfway through mine,” you said, leaning back to give him a full view of the way the sweat on your breasts shone in the hot sun. “don’t make me day drink alone.”

A salacious grin curled on his plush pink lips. “I could be tempted,” Eddie peered at the cooler beside you. “What are you drinking, sweetheart?”

You opened the cooler so that he could see the six pack of light lagers in shiny green bottles. Eddie wrinkled his nose distastefully. “Alright, young padawan,” he sighed, unlatching the gate to your backyard. “It’s time you learned your first lesson from Master Munson.” He didn’t enter the backyard, simply opened the gate and waited for you to join him outside your parents’ property. 

You quirked an eyebrow; this was new territory. That wrought iron fence had always served as a sort of barrier between the two of you, never occupying the same space and keeping each other at arm’s length- flirty banter, but with boundaries. 

Now, you smiled shrewdly as you slipped on your flip flops and crossed the threshold into Eddie’s space, following him across the narrow street to his driveway.

“Oh so I’m your student now, Master?” you quipped, launching him into a dark chuckle and a shake of his curls. 

“Christ,” he cursed under his breath low enough that he probably thought you hadn’t heard- but you did. “Well, your college friends are obviously shitty teachers if your drink of choice is a basic ass bottle you can grab at the goddamn gas station.” 

You scoffed, “Oh, what- are you trying to say you’re one of those pretentious beer snobs who only drinks micro-brewed IPA’s named after bad puns?”

Eddie laughed out loud, smiling ear to ear at you over his shoulder. “Oh that’s exactly what I am, princess!” The harsh sunlight finally relented as the two of you crossed into Eddie’s garage, and you followed him in a beeline to the old refrigerator in the corner opposite from his impressive-looking toolbench. 

You nearly moaned with relief when the cool air from the fridge hit you as Eddie opened the door and grabbed a couple of unmarked silver cans from the middle shelf. You eyed them cautiously, which Eddie saw and snorted at when he saw your expression. “Not poisoning you, sweetheart, no need to worry.” He opened a door beside the fridge that you guessed- judging by what you could see past the doorway- led to his kitchen. “A friend of mine is a home-brewer, he gives these to me and the guys for free. Way better than any cookie-cutter shit you’ll find at a college party.” He held the door open for you, nodding his head toward the doorway. “You coming inside? It’s hot as hell out here.”

You hadn’t expected him to invite you into his home; it occurred to you suddenly that you were still only wearing your swimsuit. Smiling shyly, you stepped through the doorway, the chill of the air conditioning rolling goosebumps over your damp skin. Eddie stepped into the kitchen and immediately began opening the cans, handing one to you. 

You eyed the can cautiously, raising an eyebrow at him. “Do I want to know what I’m about to drink?’ 

He smiled mischievously, inclining his head toward you as he held his can aloft. “First lesson, padawan- trust your master.” He tilted the can in your direction, to which you sighed and tapped your can to his. 

Your eyes widened in surprise when the cold, bubbly liquid hit your lips. It wasn’t anything like you were expecting- instead of the tepid wheaty taste that you were used to. At first the drink was tart, but after a second it faded into a fruity dryness that reminded you of white wine. Its  flavor was so light that you couldn’t even tell you were drinking beer.

“This is beer?” 

Eddie chuckled. “Technically it’s a sour, but yes- it’s a type of beer. Dustin said it was a champagne sour, so if you like wine then hopefully this’d be up your alley.” 

You smiled as you took your second sip. “I do like wine.” you murmured, testing the flavors on your tongue. “Like this, too. Your friend ever think about selling what he brews?”

“Dustin?” Eddie asked, laughing as if the question were something funny. “Oh I have no doubt he’ll try to sell it one day, but he’s not going to even think about it until he knows he’s perfected his recipe.”

As you took another sip of the cold drink, you felt another wave of goosebumps run through you. Coincidentally, this was the moment that Eddie fell perfectly silent. You peered over your can- his eyes were fixed on your chest. You became acutely aware that the goosebumps had resulted in your nipples growing so hard, you thought if something-anything- were to accidentally brush against them, you might moan from the sensitivity. 

Stifling a smirk, you shivered and hugged your upper arms. “Brrrrr it’s cold in here!” you said coyly, “I guess my body temperature got a little too used to the heat.” 

Eddie’s chest heaved slightly at the way your tits bounced and squeezed together when you shivered. He cleared his throat, looking down at the beer can in his hand for a moment. “I’ve got a hot tub, you know,” He spoke up, peering at you to gauge your reaction. “Downstairs. You’re welcome to it.”

You took another sip. “Only if you join me.”

His dark eyes snapped up to yours, lips curling up at one corner. “Yes ma’am.” he said, his voice lowered an octave and a bit huskier than before. You held his eye contact, mirroring his lopsided grin with a charged, heavy-lidded gaze. 

Eddie led you to a staircase down the hall and said he’d be right back with a towel for you after he changed into swim trunks. 

“Aw, no speedo?” you smirked. Eddie appeared unphased. “Mental note,” he murmured to himself, “the princess is eager to see my thighs.”

You giggled, “There might be more tattoos there I haven’t seen yet,” you countered, “How am I supposed to keep figuring you out if I don’t know the meaning of each and every one?” 

Eddie placed his forearm above your head on the wall, leaning into it until he was close enough for you to feel his breath on your hairline. “You know, you seem to spend a lot of time staring at my body, kid-” You bristled at his blatant omission of the nicknames you liked. “-I’m starting to feel objectified.” 

You forced the smile from your face, looking up at him defiantly. “I could say the same thing about you, Mr. Munson,” you replied, “-and I’m not a ‘kid’.”

His position didn’t change as his eyes raked over your nearly naked body, drifting from your eyes to your lips and catching on your cleavage. “Don’t I know it, sweetheart.” he whispered, before pushing off the wall. “Hot tub’s already heated, just push off the cover and hit the green button. I’ll be down in a sec.”

And then he was walking down the hall to what you could only assume was his bedroom. For a moment, you thought about following him… but if you were honest with yourself, you were actually pretty curious about this hot tub. So down the stairs you went, carrying a silver can of sour in each hand.

Eddie’s basement was cozy, but he had utilized the space to its full potential. The majority had been filled with workout equipment to create a home gym, the walls lined with floor to ceiling mirrors that created the illusion of a larger space than it actually was. Sitting on stylish wooden slats was the hot tub, topped with a brown leather cover. To the right of the hot tub was a door with a small window that was just at your eye level. Upon closer inspection… yep, that was a sauna. Eddie had a sauna. 

Shaking your head in disbelief, you made a mental note to ask Eddie what he did for a living- as far as you could tell, he was the only one who lived here. How did a single guy in his forties have so much money to burn? 

Placing yours and Eddie’s drinks down on a nearby surface, you removed the cover from the hot tub and pressed the green button as Eddie had instructed, and settled into the hot, bubbling water. God, it was relaxing. Just then, you heard footsteps descending the stairs.

Eddie appeared, his hair let down from his normal messy bun so that it fell in dark chocolate curls that cascaded over his shoulders. His swim trunks, simple and black with little white skulls lining the cuffs above his knees, hugged his thighs in a way that made you salivate. Tattoos you'd become all too familiar with danced across his skin, and you suddenly felt the need to taste them.  

Eddie smirked when he saw you getting an eyeful without even trying to hide it. “How’s the water?”

You hummed, relaxing further into jets against your back. “Sooooooo nice.” You sighed. 

Eddie climbed into the hot tub to join you, making you squeal as he practically fell into the water, splashing you as he submerged his head just enough to wet his hair and shake it out like a golden retriever.

You giggled, doing your best to ensure that your hair wasn’t wet enough to make you look like a wet rat. “I’m starting to think you’re a teenage boy trapped in the body of a middle-aged man.” 

Eddie narrowed his eyes at you, tattooed arms stretching out over the edges of the tub as he relaxed into the seat across from you. “Hey now,” he said, voice laced with warning. “Careful with the term middle-aged there, kiddo.”

You matched his gaze, challenging. “Kiddo?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Eddie’s gaze was heavy, cocky as he looked down his nose at you. “Practically a baby.”

You grinned. “That one, I don’t mind.”

Eddie’s smile grew in tandem. “Oh, she likes to be ‘baby’, but not ‘kiddo’, huh?”

You leaned back into the water, looking up at the ceiling with a smug smile on your lips. “That’s right, grandpa.”

Suddenly, you felt a tug on your ankle and you were underwater. You emerged, spitting chlorine out of your mouth, struggling to force it from your nose as Eddie’s cackling rang in your ears. You gasped, sputtering in shock as you tried to catch your breath. 

“You are a child!” you squealed as he tugged your ankle again- you hadn’t noticed his hold still grasping tightly- not forceful enough to bring you back under the surface but enough to remind you that he could.

“So not a grandpa, then?” Eddie teased, stroking the curve of your ankle with his thumb. 

You gritted your teeth together, strategizing. “No, that would be too kind. You’ve got the maturity of a teenager. Luckily for me-” 

Using Eddie’s grip on your ankle as leverage, you forcefully pulled yourself forward by your leg and launched yourself right into his lap, bending your knees so that a second later, you were straddling him. 

You watched triumphantly as Eddie’s eyes widened, looking up at you with breath that hitched in his throat as you finished your sentence. 

“-I know how boys like you think.”

The humor between the two of you dissipated in that instant, Eddie’s eyes blown wide and dark as he watched the way the water in your hair dripped down your neck and between your breasts, which were now inches from his face. If he leaned forward, he could catch that bead of water with his tongue. If he reached up, he could hold your tits in his hands, test their weight. Press them up, squish them together, squeeze…

You felt him growing hard beneath you, and smirked triumphantly. “See?” You said smugly, grinding against him teasingly. “Right on schedule.”

Eddie chuckled, his breathing strained as he shook his head exasperatedly. “Got me all figured out, do you princess?” 

You nodded, finding your rhythm as you continued to grind against his hardening cock through his swim trunks. “I think I’m starting to.”

You shivered despite the warmth as Eddie trailed his hand from your ankle up your leg, your hip, your waist…finally resting at the apex of your sternum to splay across your neck. You hadn’t been expecting that- you faltered, breath hitching as he tested out a gentle squeeze and hummed to himself.

“Mmmmm…” He looked you over with passive attention, taking account of the way your eyes widened and your pulse quickened under his thumb. “...you know, I’m starting to figure you out too.” His other hand cupped your hip, pulling you to sit directly on his erection and holding you in place so you couldn’t grind. “You’re used to getting away with shit you know you shouldn’t do, isn’t that right, baby?” You sighed softly in response, pinned into place by his lust-blown eyes. You balanced on a precipice- on one side, obedience, which you knew would satisfy him. On the other, eventual obedience with a little bit more fight; more of a gamble, but you were willing to bet that he would enjoy that best.

“You really thought you could eye-fuck me every damn afternoon,” Eddie said, his hand on your neck moving lower to fondle one of your breasts over your swimsuit. “-and there wouldn’t be consequences?”

You breathed heavily, chest rising and falling under his hand. “I mean…” you drawled, still smiling smugly despite his authoritative tone of voice. “...I was kinda hoping for consequences.” you brought both hands out of the water, gesturing vaguely to the room around you. “I’m here, aren’t I?” 

A second passed before Eddie’s hands suddenly grabbed both of your wrists, forcing them behind your back. You gasped, cheeks hot from the water and the position you were in, straddling his lap with both shoulders shoved back to force your breasts front and center. He saw the look in your eyes and leaned forward, lips brushing the shell of your ear. 

“I can get rough sometimes, baby.” he said, voice low and husky. “Tell me it’s too much at any point and I’ll stop, okay?” You nodded, a shy little mm-hm escaping your bitten lips. Eddie crossed your wrists over each other, holding them behind your back with one hand as his newly free one reached up to caress your cheek. 

“Fucking Christ, you’re cute.” he mumbled. “Cute little baby, all alone in her parents’ big house all day, so bored she had to go and be a slut for the neighbor. That right, baby?”

Your eyes were wide and wet, mouth opened in a slight pout as you ground your freed hips on his hard cock once again, whimpering needily. You nodded your head up and down, eager to hear more filthy words tumble from his lips. 

Eddie wasn’t satisfied with that. A hand came up to grasp your hair at the base of your neck, tugging on it firmly but not painfully to force your head to nod up and down emphatically. “Use your words, baby, say ‘yes, daddy, I was a slut.’”

You gasped, surprised. You’d never called anyone daddy besides your actual father, and you’d certainly never called anyone that in the bedroom- or a hot tub, for that matter. However, his brazen demand that you call him that while you straddled him like this sent rolling waves of pleasure straight to the apex of your thighs. 

“Y-yes… daddy…” You struggled against your instinct to be embarrassed, arching your back against your restrained hands and looking down shyly at your cleavage. “...I was a slut.”

“Look at me.”

Your eyes flicked up to his, wide and obedient. He was smiling at you, beaming with pride and adoration. His hand slid from your hair to the back of your neck, pulling your face to his. “Good girl, baby.” he praised, “I’m gonna kiss you, is that okay?”

You nodded eagerly. “Yes, please!”

That earned you a chuckle. “So polite, baby girl, good job.” 

Eddie’s lips felt like the most comforting thing that a person could feel on their skin. His kiss felt like fresh sheets still warm from the dryer. His tongue was like a strawberry that was perfectly ripe, sweet and wet and a rush of relief. He explored you, he learned you, his lips devoured all they could reach and whenever they couldn’t reach, his tongue took over to fill in the blanks. 

As you whimpered and squirmed in his lap, Eddie cooed, “What’s the matter, baby, something wrong with your legs?”

You shook your head, moaning into his mouth. “I need something on my clit, Eddie.”

“Something? You’ll just take anything on that clit baby? Is that what you're saying?”

You panted, straining against his rock hard dick for some kind of friction. He was right, you would take anything. “Yes, please touch me, Eddie.”

He made no move to do so, only looking at you pointedly with his eyebrows raised. When you realized your mistake, you corrected, “Please touch me, daddy.”

He smiled smugly, a cat watching a mouse. “Good girl,” he praised, “but I’m not sure you’ve earned that.” 

Your face fell, eyes going wide as your lips formed a full-on pout. “But-” you began to stutter, but Eddie wasn’t finished. 

He let go of you, pushing you gently off you and guiding you under the water to one of the seats in the corner of the tub. The jets coming off it were strong, nearly too much on your back as you turned to sit, but Eddie stopped you before you could settle into the seat. 

“Princess, I want you to keep your knees open and ride your pussy on that jet stream until you cum.” 

Your jaw dropped open. Whipping your chin over your shoulder to look at him in his seat opposite you, you stared and waited for him to specify or maybe apologize for misspeaking- there’s no way you heard him right. But then he repeated himself, and you realized that yes, you had. 

“Press your pussy up against that jet stream under the water, and make yourself cum. Don’t use your hands. Don’t rush. I want you to fall apart in my hot tub, and I’m going to stroke my dick while I watch you do it. That okay, sweetheart?”

You were learning a lot of new information about your neighbor today. 

You smiled devilishly over your shoulder at him, taking in the sight of him lounging in the opposite corner of the tub as he took in the sight of you. “You’re a kinky motherfucker, aren’t you?” 

Eddie reached across the tub and wound an arm around your waist, pulling you in for a quick but heated kiss. “Yeah, I am.” he murmured into your lips before pushing you back toward the jets. “Now make yourself cum, I want you tight.”

He laughed at the pathetic little whimper that you let slip involuntarily as you situated yourself against the jet stream. You balanced your weight on your knees, spreading your legs enough to open your pussy further inside your swimsuit. Once the pulsing stream of water made contact with your clit, your automatic impulse was to flinch away; the stream was strong, almost too strong. However, with a little shifting and repositioning, you eventually found an angle that pulled a moan from your mouth that sounded almost pornographic.

“That’s it, baby girl,” you heard Eddie’s rough voice behind you, and you couldn’t help but sneak a peak over your shoulder at him. Eddie sat with legs spread open and one arm slung over the lip of the tub, his other hand palming the erection you knew was only growing harder over his swim trunks. This told you he was a patient man, a man who liked to be teased a little before taking what he wanted. A man who liked to play with his food before he ate it. 

You could play, too.

You pulled your eyebrows together, pouting your lips the way you’d seen him react to earlier. “Am I doing it right for you, daddy?” You moved your hips up and down against the jet, putting on a little show for him.

Eddie raised a brow, amused. “I don’t think I can answer that question for you, sweetheart.” he said, sighing heavily with pleasure as he tilted his head this way and that to take you in from every angle. “Don’t worry about me, baby, just make yourself feel good.” 

You smiled shyly, nodding in response and turning your attention back to the jets. You maneuvered your hips against them, grinding on the strong jetstream as it hit your clit at angles that you didn’t even know existed. You lost yourself in the sensation, letting your eyes fall closed and humming little sounds to yourself as your heart rate picked up, that familiar pleasure bubbling up in your lower belly  as your movements grew faster and more desperate. 

Eager to see if Eddie was enjoying himself as much as you were, you glanced over your shoulder to look at him. What you saw was breathtaking- Eddie, his wet curls clinging to his dewy skin, muscles flexing under his tattoos as he fisted his cock underwater. You couldn’t see it clearly due to the raging bubbles, but the flesh-colored underwater blur was enough for you to know exactly what he was doing. You had known he would jack off to you- he’d outright told you he planned to- but seeing it was enough to turn you on so much that it became the thing that pushed you over the edge.

“Daddy, I’m cumming!” 

You moaned, mouth hanging open as you rode out your orgasm against the harsh stream of the jets, overwhelmed and overstimulated by the physical feeling and the intense eye contact that you held with Eddie the entire time as your body gyrated and spasmed. He watched you with hungry eyes, lapping up the scene in its entirety and committing every second to memory. 

“Good girl, good fucking girl, keep fucking that jet, baby.”

You whimpered, hips jerking away from the stream as it hit your clit at an angle that was a little too intense, and your limp, still-needy body floated over to Eddie. He chuckled, still stroking his cock lightly in the warm water. “Aw, I’m sorry baby, was that too much?”

You shook your head, still eager for him- he’d barely even touched you, and yet you were so desperate for this man. “No, I can take more.”

His eyes had a darkness to them that made your breath hitch. “How much can you take, sweetheart?” 

You moved to straddle your knees on either side of one of his thighs, not close enough to grind against his cock, but certainly in a perfect position to rub your pussy along his leg, teasing him. “I’ll take whatever you wanna give me, daddy.”

A low groan sounded from deep in Eddie’s chest. “You might regret saying that one, babe.”

You couldn’t resist matching his warning with a challenge. “Bring it on.” you said sweetly, and it incited a little chuckle in him. He reached back and pressed a button on the hot tub, causing all of the bubbles to stop. 

“Get out, dry off.” he said, nodding to the neatly folded towels he’d placed beside the hot tub. “You look like you could use a shower.”

You stayed put, confused. “You… but…”

He cut you off, cupping his wet hands against your face. You could feel the pads of his fingers on your cheeks, wrinkled from prolonged time under the water’s surface. “Sorry, sweetheart, I forgot you don’t like following instructions unless you know you’re getting something out of it.” You scoffed at his condescending tone, but all he did was smile. “What I meant to say was- get out. Dry off. I’m going to fuck you in my shower. Mmkay?”

Your eyes widened, excited by his words and elated by a strange submissive, post-orgasmic euphoria. “Okay.” you replied, but when you saw his testy look in response you quickly amended, “Okay daddy.”

“Good girl.”

The two of you dried off before heading back upstairs. Eddie let you down the hall to his bedroom, which you were sure was filled with so many interesting mementos on the walls that you were sure it would take you hours to study all of it. The first thing to catch your eye was the golden record, framed and mounted beside his dresser. When Eddie saw you looking at it, he supplied an answer without waiting for you to ask. 

“Ever heard of a band called Corroded Coffin?”

You searched your brain but came up empty. “No, I don’t think I have.”

Eddie chuckled to himself, like you’d just participated in a joke you weren’t in on. “Most people haven’t. But I bet you’ve heard the song Upside Down on the radio, yeah?” He hummed a couple bars of the chorus, which you recognized instantly. 

“Oh yeah! I love that song!”

Eddie grinned. “‘Preciate it, babe.”

Shocked, you glanced up at the record and back to him. “Wait, you wrote that song?”

He shrugged as if to brush it off, but you could tell he was proud. “It was a group effort, my band and I wrote and recorded it together. After that, though, when the offers for record deals and tours and shit started pouring in, it became clear to most of the band members that this wasn’t what they wanted to do for the rest of their lives- band broke up on good terms, we just had some differences when it came to future plans.” He reached up and stroked the frame affectionately with his thumb. “But one-hit-wonder money was still enough to get my name out there, make some smart investments. I’m a music producer now.”

So that’s how he made all this money. The big empty house made sense now. “That’s pretty cool, actually.” you said, smiling at Eddie. You relished the sensation of his hands as they slid around your waist. 

“You wanna see something even cooler?” 

Before you could answer, Eddie was scooping you up into his arms and tossing you over his shoulder. You squealed, laughing as his palm hit your ass cheek with a loud smack! He carried you into his bathroom, placing you on his vanity counter before kissing the laughing smile right off your face. You felt his hands as they worked your bathing suit off you, freeing your breasts from the confines of the damp fabric. Eddie wasted no time, pulling one of your tits into his hand and encircling your nipple with his mouth, sucking sensually. You moaned, hands fisting into his hair. He only left your skin to turn around and turn on the shower, giving the water a chance to heat up. 

Once the bathroom had sufficiently filled with steam, Eddie picked you up from the counter, pulling your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. You kissed him greedily, wetly, and hungrily as he walked the two of you into his spacious tiled shower, which was larger than your dorm room closet back at school. 

You relaxed your legs around him in a silent ask for Eddie to put you down, which he obliged. The moment your feet hit the wet tiled floor, you began to sink to your knees until…

You snorted. 

“Why do you still have your swim trunks on?” 

Eddie had taken the time to take off your bathing suit, but you hadn’t even realized that even after carrying you into the shower, he hadn’t even taken a second to undress himself. 

He looked down, noticing this for the first time, same as you. “I, uh… I don’t know. I was-” he flashed you a smirk that was equal parts embarrassed and sexy. “-preoccupied, I guess.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you knelt before him, now eye-level with the drawstring of his swim trunks. “Well let me fix that, then.” you said softly, working your delicate fingers into the waistband and pulling his trunks down until they hit the floor. 

God. He was a sight to behold. And you were right, he did have thigh tattoos. They were large, twisting images of hellish creatures, undoubtedly older but still in good shape since- judging by the paleness of the skin they decorated- they probably never saw the light of day. 

You reached up, lightly tracing them as you turned your gaze to his cock. It was at full mast, eager and waiting for your mouth to encircle it and, hopefully, make Eddie moan your name. 

Which he did. 

The way your lips covered the head of his cock, the way your tongue generously licked the shaft under, over, around, the way your hands were warm and welcoming as they lightly played with his balls- all of it made him moan, gasp, groan your name. He called you baby, called you princess, moaned and pulled your hair as he fucked your mouth, and you just about burst into flames when he shoved his cock so far down your throat that you swallowed on it accidentally, pulling a growled “Goddamnit, sweetheart, fuck-” from his lips. 

When he pulled you off his dick by your hair, his eyes were humorless and hungry. He crouched down, leveling your eyes under the hot water from the showerhead. 

“Are you on birth control, sweet girl?” he asked. 

You nodded, “I have an IUD.”

He kissed your forehead firmly, one hand still fisted in your hair. “Good girl,” he murmured. “Now I can grab a condom, they’re right over there in the cabinet under my sink.” he continued, nodding vaguely in the sink’s direction. “But baby, I have been fantasizing about the way your pussy’s gonna feel for a long ass time and I hate to ask you this, and you’re allowed to say no, but-”

“Fuck me raw Eddie.” You wanted it. You needed it. You needed him. “I fantasize about it too. I think about it every day, I touch myself to you before going to sleep and wake up wishing your cock was the thing waking me up. When I’m lying by the pool reading those stupid smutty novels and some lord is fucking a lady in waiting up against a wall, I can’t focus on it! I can’t because I want it to be you and I want to feel your cock inside me, and I want it to be your cum that drips down my thighs and your lips on my-”

He cut you off there, splaying his free hand on your neck and kissing you until you were laid horizontally on the hot, wet floor. He climbed on top of you, and in a moment your mouth fell open at the sensation of his hard cock splitting you open from the inside. He didn’t spend a moment waiting for you to adjust to his size or murmuring praises into your ear- he knew you wanted all of him, and you knew he wanted all of you, and that was all you needed. You moaned, you practically screamed, and above all you clutched him for dear life.

“Dirty girl,” Eddie growled into your ear, thrusting into you deep and hard. “Dirty books, dirty mind-” 

He leaned back so that his face was directly above yours and grabbed your cheeks, squeezing to force your mouth open. Your lips parted, and Eddie spat harshly into your mouth before shoving your mouth closed around it. His eyes were feral, wild with lust and dominance. “Swallow.” he commanded, you obeyed in an instant. He felt your throat moving against his hand and smiled deviously. “Dirty mouth, too.”

He picked up his pace, spearing into you at a pace so relentless that you couldn’t even keep track of the noises coming out of your mouth- an incoherent stream of sounds and swear that would have made a sailor blush. He matched your dirty noises with his own, all the while dicking you down into his shower floor as your brain went haywire at the lewd noises of skin slapping against skin that echoed through the bathroom. 

“God, this pussy is so fucking tight,” Eddie groaned, “good girl, cumming so hard for daddy back there. You gonna cum on my cock this time?”

You moaned, “Need something on my clit, daddy.” 

Eddie pecked your lips with his own, and the way it made your heart skip a beat was like a reward. “Good girl, always tell me what you need, okay?”

You nodded, smiling giddily from the sudden subby euphoria. “Okay, daddy.” You made a mental note that kissing Eddie Munson while his cock was inside you gave you your new favorite kind of high.

Eddie reached down and began drawing small, soft circles with his fingertip on your clit. The richly gentle sensation was decadent, pulling deeper, louder moans from you as Eddie continued to fuck you. “Oh I feel you getting tighter, baby girl, that feel good?”

“Yes!” you practically yelled it. 

“Yes what?” He taunted.

“Yes daddy!” you cried, arching your back against the tile. He was fucking you ruthlessly, ravaging you mentally, and the way his dirty words melted into you made your brain go so hazy that you weren’t sure if your vision was clouding or if it was just the steam in the air. 

Your release was growing closer, that heat in your core coiling tighter and tighter, ready to burst with pleasure. “I’m gonna cum soon, daddy.” you whined. 

Eddie’s dick hit you in that perfect spot inside over and over, and you leaned your face against his hand as he cupped your cheek affectionately. “Yeah? You gonna make a mess all over daddy’s dick?” You pouted, nodding ‘yes’ in response. Eddie smiled at the way you could be so cute and so filthy at the same time- he fucking loved it. “That’s probably gonna make me cum, sweetheart, you want that? That pussy’s gonna grip my cock so tight that it fills you with cum, huh?”

You were whimpering and pouting and letting the sluttiest little sobs fall from you now. “Yes, daddy, fill me with cum, please!”

“You want me to fill you with cum? Fuck all that cum inside you?”

“Yes!”

“Yes what, sweetheart, gotta tell me whose dick you’re cumming on-”

“Daddy!” you cried, “Daddy’s dick, I’m cumming on daddy’s dick!”

“Fuuuck, yes, cum on daddy’s dick you little slut-”

Eddie’s filthy words tumbled from his lips as your pussy pulsed around him, fluttering walls squeezing him tight from the aching pleasure that shot through you. His cum filled you, and the size of his load reflected just how long it had been since he’d cum into anything that wasn’t his own hand. When he finally pulled out, a stream of both your releases oozed out of your hole and onto the floor. Eddie stared at it, fascinated, and he silently used his finger to catch the milky liquid and push it back into your hole. You whimpered, overly sensitive and puffy, your pussy lips inflamed and screaming, but Eddie was gentle as he sheathed his finger completely inside you, ensuring that his seed stayed exactly where he’d put it in the first place.

He pulled you up to a sitting position, smiling gently. “Hi.” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on your temple. 

“Hi.” you giggled, a giant smile stretching out across your face, blissed-out and more than satisfied. 

Eddie stroked your wet hair out of your face, gazing down at you adoringly. “I’m sorry if that was a little… much,” he winced. “I may have gotten carried away, usually I would talk to you to see if that kind of stuff would be okay, but I was just so fired up-”

“Eddie,” you interrupted softly. “I loved it.”

He grinned, grateful and relieved. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

Eddie pulled you against him, your body fitting itself nicely against his naked chest as water poured over the two of you from above while you sat holding each other on the floor of his shower. He sighed, completely and utterly content. “Yeah.”

***

The rest of the summer days in your parents’ neighborhood went like this: 

Wake up imagining what you and Eddie would do today. Touch yourself when necessary.

Do whatever chores needed doing around the house, sometimes making batches of lemonade for Eddie when you knew he would be working on his lawn that day. 

Lounge by your pool and read a book- this part hadn’t changed. 

Spend the rest of the afternoon at Eddie’s. These afternoons usually consisted of activities like discussing the whatever book you were reading, drinking whatever strange new beer Dustin had come up with, and fucking each other’s brains out. 

The next month, Eddie celebrated his birthday. He didn’t throw a rager (true to his word) but he did have a little get-together. To your surprise, he invited you. 

You got to meet his friends, their kids, their dogs- and see the way Eddie smiled for hours without reprieve when they were around. This whole summer, you’d been figuring this man out bit by bit, but it wasn’t until that night that you truly felt like you knew him. 

You baked him a cake, as promised. Three layers of funfetti sponge, vanilla frosting and decorated with oreo crumbs and rainbow letters that spelled out “Happy birthday, Eddie, forever young”.

He wasn’t this way with the rest of the neighbors. To them, he would always be Mr. 1405 Peach Tree Lane, but with these people? With his friends? He was Eddie Munson. Now, you were included in that group of people who were allowed to know him, and how wonderful he really was. 

You felt so incredibly lucky that you were a part of that.

[sincerelybubbles]

ok shy bau reader and the team finally managed to get her to come a rossi dinner party so she can meet the rest of the team families that she hasn’t met yet, maybe after her first date with hitch and the team realized quickly she softened very fast with the kids and jack and her just seemed to click really fast and jack had her talking more than any of the team has so far… hotch is star eyes

hotch x shy!bau!reader \\ Dinner and Delights

Warnings: brief mention/allusions to Christianity. Otherwise, fluff! More insight into what Aaron is thinking :) I got very carried away, I hope you enjoy <3

"Woah hot stuff, where are you going so fast?" Morgan intercepts you with an arm around your shoulder as you attempt to slip out of the BAU unnoticed. "Hopefully to get ready for our big dinner plans?"

It's not that you don't want to go to one of Rossi's famous dinner parties, you're just afraid that your sub-par social skills would be noticeable by tenfold in a more casual environment.

At work, you can hide your quietness by talking about the psychology of the unsub, your specialty as a licensed psychologist. You can pretend you're not hiding in your shell when the team is all laughing and talking about personal lives by quietly listening while pretending to read your maps and journals. You can observe them and spend time with them, because you do truly love them all at this point, without feeling bad that you prefer to listen over talk.

And that's really it - you prefer to listen to them. You would say you've all but warmed up to all of them. You like Morgan's teasing, Emily's stories, Reid's rambling, Rossi's sarcasm, and Hotch's...

Everything, but the thought snaps you back to the present before you can dwell on memories of a sweet date in a dark restaurant.

"Of course," you succeed, nodding and sending him a tight-lipped smile.

"Hey," he slows you down and stops in the hallway, turning you to face him gently before lifting his hands in a placating gesture as if you were an animal he expects to run. "You don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with but I promise none of us are trying to lead our little lamb to slaughter. We know you're quiet," the admission embarrasses you and makes you feel guilty pleasant that he sounds so gentle about it, "and nobody minds, I think it's cute and I think the rest are just happy our other genius isn't as vocal as Reid."

Your nose scrunches at the small dig and you open your mouth to protest at putting Reid down to lift you up.

"And look at that! Another thing we all love - you're quiet but won't let anyone say anything about the other behind their back. You're a good person, we all just want to spend some less-intense time with you. So, go home and doll yourself up, and get ready to see Hotch wine tipsy. We all know that's your main motivator." Morgan winks at you and moves quickly down the hall and away from you, laughing, before you can protest.

He's not wrong, though, and you shake your head as you move toward the elevator.

You end up on Rossi's doorstep, choking the neck of a bottle of expensive wine between two sweaty palms. Your heart is in your throat, nerves humming in anticipation.

Your team cares about you. Nobody expects you to be anything you're not. Gentle affirmations meant to soothe over your skin in gently lapping waves erupt into steam; like water hitting lava rock. You're too tense, too worried about not saying enough or too much; saying the wrong thing or saying the right thing only once and never living up to the expectation of repeated occurrences.

"Hey," Emily says from behind you. You turn to see her jogging up to stand beside you, brushing off her pants and adjusting her jacket. "You brought wine!" She cheers happily, reaching past you to turn the nob and open the door.

She gestures you inside, making no comment about your obvious hesitance. With her by your side, your nerves are calmed. Aside from Aaron, she's the easiest for you to be around. You don't feel any expectations with Emily. She doesn't talk too much or too little, doesn't push, doesn't ever send a pitying look when you opt out of activities outside of work.

"Château Lafite," you say to her, lifting the wine and shaking it gently in the air as you walk inside.

"Oh! Fancy wine."

"Wine?" Rossi asks, rounding a corner. He's dressed slightly more casually in a soft sweater and jeans, drying his hands off with a pristine dish towel. "The more the merrier, bring it in here."

You follow his gesture back into the kitchen, leaving Emily to go to what you presume is the living or dining area.

"Where did you find this?" Rossi asks, taking the wine from you to examine it and letting out a low whistle as he appreciates it.

"Just my local winery," you say, neglecting to admit that you go there often enough that the owner leaves the nicer stuff behind the counter for you.

Lonely nights crave wine, twisting them into lovely things you can appreciate. You enjoy your own company after years of quietly observing others. You've learned how to observe yourself, too, after all of these years.

And, even though you don't quite realize it, the self-awareness carries like confidence. That's what Aaron sees in you: observant eyes darting across a room and noticing everything, understanding flickering before anyone else catches a cue, deft movements across the paper while taking notes, and swift motions always with a purpose.

It's what he sees now, hands in the pockets of his dark jeans while he leans in the doorway of Rossi's kitchen, watching you. How could he not? You're a lovely creature, always begging for his eyes to settle on you for another second, and then another.

He knows the moment you realize he's in the room, minutes before Rossi. You stand straighter, tilt your chin lower, and are aware far before you tilt your head to the side to send him a soft smile. He returns it before Rossi can catch him. It's a warmth he wants to reserve for you.

"Dave," he interrupts the other man's monologuing about the wine he's sure you already know all about, "Jack would like to know if he and Spencer can use your chess set when he gets here?"

"Of course, I'll get it from my study." Rossi leaves, passing you the wine and gesturing to the opener.

Aaron steps in before you can start the process of opening the wine. He doesn't quite know why, but he wants to do it for you. He finds himself wanting that more and more recently: to do simple tasks for the sole purpose of you not having to do them. Opening doors and pulling out chairs are simple gestures that he did with Hayley, but he wants to do sillier, smaller, things, too. Straighten the pens on your desk back into their cup, reorganize the files on your desktop, untangle the wires of the headphones he really should reprimand you for using at your desk, open a damn bottle of wine he can't pronounce the name of but that he heard you say so gently to Emily as you walked in.

"Jack's here?" You ask, handing him the wine and crossing your arms over your chest as you lean back against the counter to watch him work.

He relishes how your eyes focus on his arms, pupils dilating, as his muscles work under his thin henley.

"Yes, I have him this weekend and he likes to spend time with Reid and Garcia."

He has to step closer to reach above you to get the wine glasses. He could ask you to step aside, tuck his hand against your waist to move you himself, or simply walk into the next room to grab the glasses sitting on the table. But, instead, he tucks one foot in between yours, puts one hand on the back of your head to guard it from the cabinet, and opens it to find the nicer crystal there.

Your breath hitches across his neck and he remembers the chaste kisses he's given you before. Nothing serious, nothing has been yet because he's waiting for you to lead him into that, but tantalizing nonetheless. He steps back to pour the wine, standing closer to you than he started.

A little for you, passed gently, and then a little for him. Dave could pour his own glass.

You take the wine and sip it slowly, tongue darting out to taste before you sip. He's reminded of communion as a child. The blood of christ, sacred, something to be tasted but not meant to satiate. Reverence in a sip, devotion in a small act.

He wants to give you the same thing. The desire hits him in the sternum, suddenly, leaving him winded as he watches you lower the glass. Your eyes are locked on his, you haven't seemed as hesitant about holding his gaze recently - something that makes him melt - and he wonders if you can feel how he wants to take care of you. How he wants to show you the same force that water uses to carve canyons. Persistence and pressure, time and care. He's willing to take his time, he's filled with the same patience as everything all together in nature. He's a rabbit perched on its hind legs, sniffing the wind for safety before darting forward; the bird hung in flight between beats of wings, the whisper of wind carrying small seeds miles away to wait and watch the growth. Wait, wait, wait, however long it takes, he's there. For you.

It's a strong feeling to fully realize in David Rossi's kitchen, but he's grateful for it, anyway.

"It's good," you comment softly, eyes smiling.

"Is it?" He asks, setting his glass down and retaking his spot nearer to you. He misses your warmth. "Can I?" He asks, brushing his fingers across your jugular before cupping your cheek.

"Taste the wine?" You tease, eyes flickering to his glass. The gentle jest pulls a chuckle from his chest. Another thing you've become more comfortable doing around him. His blood and bones sing at how familiar you can be with him.

"Yes," he says in a breath, dipping his head down to brush his lips against yours.

And you're reciprocating - you've always reciprocated, enthusiastically, just never in the pressing way you are now. You set down your own glass to hold his arms in both of your hands. Fingers dig into his arm as you sigh and open your mouth, new lands to explore, tilting your head back to grant him full access.

"Daddy?" Jack asks and Aaron pulls away, a man parched and staring at an oasis in the middle of a desert, before Jack can round the corner. He doesn't go far, though, hand traveling down to the small of your back as he turns.

"Jack?" Aaron replies, waiting for him to come around the corner.

"Hello," Jack says, stopping in the doorway and looking up at you with wide eyes.

You've met him a few times before, always in passing, but you still smile warmly and wave at him.

"Hi, Jack."

"Do you know how to play chess?" Jacks asks. Aaron smiles at the eagerness on his son's face.

"Yes, I do. Would you like to play?"

"Yes please!" Jack jumps forward to grab your hand, pulling you into the living room before you can react.

You go easily, though, following him with a gentle laugh that warms the coldest parts of him. Pieces of him he doesn't think have seen the light in years brighten at the sound. He's heard you laugh before but something about the sight of you laughing because of Jack illuminates needs that he didn't even know he had. Needs you're meeting before he can feel the yawning desire of them.

He follows, unable to resist the desire to see you two interact over and over again. You're setting up the board, listening to Jack chatter on, nodding intently.

[puck-luck]

horror movies & puppy dog eyes | nico hischier

warnings: use of y/n, oral (m receiving), use of pet names, telling your crush/roommate you like them (very scary, but it goes well here!), begging (ish? Nico is giving sub in this), spelling of cum as come because i think "cum" looks ugly pairing: nico hischier x reader summary: the one when you and nico get a little too close on the couch, the tension between you finally breaks and you tell (& show) each other how you feel. wc: 2511

You’d known Nico for years, having met him while out for a jog back in the preseason of his rookie year for the Devils. It was one of those serendipitous moments when you were in a rare fitness mood and you happened to bump into a cute boy in one of the parks about a mile away from your apartment. You’d stopped running by then and slowed your pace to enjoy the scenery from a bench to catch your breath. Nico, being the precious angel he is, had stumbled and almost fallen right in front of you. You laughed, he blushed, you introduced yourself, and he gave you his number by the end of the conversation. 

You two hadn’t become friends right away, considering how busy he was with his rookie year. They made the playoffs that year, but lost early on. It was the postseason after Nico’s rookie year when you two got close, hanging out when he was in Jersey and texting and calling each other when he wasn’t. When you told him you were looking for a new place to live because you were tired of your old roommate, he offered you his spare bedroom. It was in that apartment that you started watching the Devils because of Nico and it became a habit. You liked that you could talk to him about his game and he would explain things to you that you didn’t understand. 

When he was named captain in 2021, things started to change between you two. It was the first time that the line started to blur between friendship and romance. You had popped a bottle of champagne as he walked through the door, you’d hung streamers from the ceiling, and you’d blown up a few balloons that were littered along the entryway. Nico was tired and you could tell, but when he saw you cheering for him with an overflowing bottle of champagne, he’d never felt so alive. The thing is, even as big of a rush as it was, you and Nico ended up cuddling on the couch into the early morning. He had a game in Washington the next day, which they lost, probably in part because of how late you had kept him up. You both knew better, but with Nico’s head on your chest and your fingers in his hair, it was too comfortable to move. You two fell asleep right there and woke up entangled. Even now, years later, that night leaves butterflies in your stomach.

You had never acted on your feelings for Nico and he had never made any move on you. After living together for almost five years, you two had fallen into an easy routine and romance would only mess that up.

Sometimes, though, like today, it was really hard to keep yourself off of Nico.

His eyes were just so brown today, his hair was falling in his eyes just right, his dimples were showing when he smiled (with his pearly whites!) at you, his accent was peeking out more than you were used to, and you only noticed all of this once you had stumbled into the kitchen for coffee and he had returned from his early workout. He was all sweaty and muscular and you were staring, of course you were. Look at him. You couldn’t help it. 

You weren’t the only one, to be fair. When you had stumbled into the kitchen rubbing sleep out of your eyes, you were wearing one of Nico’s old shirts and your underwear. He was used to it, but the shirt had his number on the shoulder, and something squeezed at his heart when he saw you walking around with his number on, like you were really his. The sleepy smile you gave him after he sat you down at the counter and poured coffee for you was like a gift, too.

“What are you up to today?” Nico asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee as well. He blew on the hot surface of the liquid before taking a sip and burned his tongue anyway, but shook it off.

You hummed, shrugging noncommittally. “I’m working from home today, then we can hang out. Watch a movie?”

“Movie would be nice,” Nico replies. “Anything you’d like to see?”

“You pick,” you tell him. “I’m going to go hole up in my room for a bit. I’ll see you over work, okay? Take a break around noon for lunch. Will you be here?”

“I’m going to the rink in an hour or so. I’m meeting with some of the guys to run some extra drills and watch film. I’ll have whatever they have in catering.”

“Okay.” You hop down from your seat at the counter, walk around to grab a granola bar from the cabinet behind Nico. He places a hand on your other arm as you reach around him out of instinct, not intent, but he purposefully lets it linger a second longer than necessary. You press your lips together to keep any noise you might make inside of you and pull away. 

“Later?” Nico asks again, voice soft. His eyes are imploring and, if you’re not mistaken, a little heated.

The spot where his hand had rested almost burns with the lack of touch. “Later,” you agree, and because he’s not the only one that can make someone feel like they’re burning up, you lean up and brush your lips over his cheek.

It leaves a small smile on his face and you don’t look back as you walk away.

After work, Nico cooks dinner for the two of you and you settle on the couch, rubbing your eyes out of exhaustion. You’d been staring at your computer screen all day, ironing out details of the latest project your boss had assigned you. It was tiresome and your eyes felt like they had been way overworked. It’s only a matter of time after this movie starts that you fall asleep.

Nico presents you with your plate and set his own on the coffee table, heading back to the kitchen to fetch your drinks. You weren’t overindulging, but Nico had picked out a red wine that paired nicely with the meal he had prepared, and you were always down for a drink and a movie. 

Unfortunately, it was like Nico had something out for you, because he decided he wanted to watch a horror movie tonight. You were bundled up on the couch, eating your food, when he turned on a movie he knew you wouldn’t like, but you had told him he could choose… so you were stuck with it. 

It was more of a psychological horror than one that relied on cheap scares and you really tried not to pay attention because you knew the movie would freak you out if you let it. Instead, you decide to focus on Nico.

He's barely reacting to the horror movie, just watching it with a straight face that occasionally turns inquisitive. His hand rests on the back of the couch behind you, so close to being around you. You're just so aware of him at all times. His presence is so commanding. You bite the inside of your cheek as you sneak a glance at him, focusing on the skin of his thigh that is revealed by his gym shorts. 

He catches you staring once you didn’t jump at one of the very few scares in the movie. 

“What are you looking at?” Nico asks, bringing his arm down to wipe at his thigh, assuming he had dropped some crumbs on it or something and not noticed.

You shake yourself out of it. “Zoned out, I guess.”

Nico cuts his eyes at you, but lets it go.

After a few more minutes, you find your eyes drifting back to Nico’s lower half. He shifts down on the couch and rests one of his heels on the coffee table, the other still on the floor. His legs were spread deliciously wide in typical man behavior and normally you’d roll your eyes, but something about it today made your stomach turn. Your eyes grow wider when Nico reaches around and puts his arm around your shoulders instead of the back of the couch. 

“You okay?” He asks, pulling you closer to his side and giving you a little squeeze.

“Distracted,” you reply. You rub at your eyes for emphasis. “Tired.”

“Poor girl.” Nico rubs your arm and presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Anything I can do to help?”

“Just give me a hug,” you say softly, cozying up to him. You wrap your arms around his middle and rest your head right on his chest. You can hear his heartbeat, strong and solid. You close your eyes and focus on that, the beat of it tiring you and lulling you into that weird in-between state of not-quite consciousness and not-quite sleep. Nico’s arm is solid around you and he smells good, manly.

You sigh, throwing a leg over his thigh. He places his other hand on the curve of your knee and pulls your leg higher. 

“Y/N,” Nico murmurs quietly. 

“Nico,” you reply in the same tone, opening your eyes and looking up at him.

He looks tormented.

You push back from him, but he keeps a harsh grip on your thigh to keep you from getting any distance from him. “What?” You demand, hands on his chest. The concern on your face leaks into your voice. “Are you okay?”

“No,” he whispers.

“What? What’s wrong?” You squirm away from him. “Did I do something?”

This time, Nico stays silent for just a moment too long. You look over him, trying to get some clue as to why you’ve upset him. His hands are resting on his lap and you’ve seen this move before, so your eyes linger before you look up at him.

His cheeks and the tips of his ears are burning red. “I’m sorry.” The words rush out of him in one fell swoop. “I know we’re just friends, I just didn’t mean…”

“Nico,” you interrupt, but can’t find any other words. You stare at each other, nothing but the stillness of your breath between you.

“Please.” He deflates as the word leaves him. 

“Nico,” you repeat. You shift closer to him and move his hands from his lap, getting an eyeful of his bulge. When your eyes return to his face, he’s blushing even more than before, but his expression is less grave. It’s more hopeful.

“Is this…?” He asks, reaching out to touch you, but pulling back at the last second.

“Yes,” you answer, settling yourself in his lap and leaning in until your lips just barely brush against his. “If you want it.”

His breath catches. “Need it,” he admits, voice breaking. “Needed you since– God, forever.”

“Me too.”

His eyes search your face, brown and bright and pure, and he leans forward that last millimeter until you’re kissing. His lips slide over yours softly, like he’s mapping out every curve and memorizing it in case he never gets the chance to kiss you again.

You pull away and kiss over his features– a kiss to his nose, to his temples, to his forehead, to his cheeks, his eyebrows, the corners of his lips. When you sink lower to his jaw, feeling the stubble against your skin, it’s like the dam breaks.

“Thought about this so much, all the time,” Nico admits, breathless as you continue to kiss him and grind down slowly on his lap. His hands find your ass and he clutches at you. “Dreamt of it.”

“What did you dream about?” You mumble against his Adam’s apple, running your hands along the ridges of his abs. “Tell me, Neeks.”

“Fucked my hand so many times thinking about your mouth, Y/N,” he says. “Worried you’d hear me saying your name from across the hall.”

“I wish I had,” you slide off the couch until you’re between his thighs. You rub over the downy hair on his thighs, the same hair that caught your attention tonight in the first place. “I would’ve come over and shown you that the real thing was better than your imagination.”

He lets out a loud moan at that, reaching down to brush your hair out of your face. He looks down at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. His puppy-dog eyes never leave you, as if he’s worried you’ll disappear if he blinks for a second. He lifts his hips and you shimmy his shorts and boxers down at the same time to reveal his cock. 

Your hand circles the base of his length and you take the tip in your mouth, sucking lightly until his hips buck up with pleasure. You pull off and kiss his slit, licking the precum up when it bubbles out. His cock jumps when you trace the vein on the underside with the tip of your tongue and cup his balls. 

You blink up at him and bite your bottom lip coyly. “Tastes good, Neek.”

“Baby,” he whimpers. He lifts his hips. “Don’t tease.”

“Sorry, love,” you apologize. “Let me make you feel good.”

You lower your mouth onto his cock again, bobbing your head and working the bit that you can’t fit into his mouth. He tries to keep himself still, but he can only do so much until he’s bucking up into your mouth and chasing his orgasm like a man starved. You let him thrust up, loving the sounds he’s making. 

He moans and whines the way you imagined he would, still in the habit of trying to keep quiet so that he doesn’t alarm his roommate. You’ll tell him after that it’s okay, especially now that you know how he feels and he knows how you feel. You’ll talk about it more after, you know you will, but right now, you just want to make him come.

You pull off and wrap your hand around his cock, pumping him at a fast pace. “Gonna come, Nico?”

“Uh huh,” he groans, his hips stuttering as it becomes too much for him. “Y/N, I–” He cuts himself off with a strangled moan as he shoots off, his seed spilling over your hand and onto his stomach. 

You let him breathe for a minute, catch his breath. When he opens his eyes, he catches you licking the come off your hand. His cock gives a halfhearted twitch, but he can’t go again quite yet. Plus, his mind is turning with all the ways he imagined getting you off. He had dreamt of so many things he could do to you, but his favorite fantasy involved repaying the favor: getting his mouth on you.

Nico pulls you up from where you sit and lays you down on the couch, spreading your legs. “I love you,” he whispers and presses a kiss to your thigh. “Do you love me?”

“Of course I love you, Nico.”

notes: here we go again, readers. in my own personal headcanon, nico is just a sweetie pie who needs some lovin from his girl (my man, my man, thank you to my man). once again, blessings to @johncena2020 for reading the fic before it was posted on her lunch break & helping me with a title. ONCE AGAIN, thank you to wheelofnames.com for picking which boy i wrote about today. originally, you chose trevor (i can't blame you), but two trevs in one day is wild for a new blog. waiting for the day the spinner wheel chooses quinn and i indulge in writing some of my favorite things (to be revealed). also, where are all the new fics? what am i supposed to read during my 9-5? the stuff i've already read? blahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. loving you guys. xo! <3

[masonmtxo]

Anytime you need me - Rewrite

Summary: Mason gets a call to pick his girlfriend up from the club

Words: 3k ish

Note: this is a rewrite of my first ever fic! It’s doubled in length and has been changed slightly so hopefully it’s a bit better than the original! As always, feedback is appreciated 🩷

Mason awoke with a start at the sound of his phone continuously buzzing on his bedside table. Rolling over and reaching to grab it, the time 2:06 am flashed up on the screen.

Squinting at the bright light, he flicked his messages open, clicking on your name as numerous notifications filtered down the screen.

He smiled to himself, rolling his eyes at your blatant drunkenness but pleasantly surprised that the messages were entirely coherent, half expecting you to have blown his phone up with nonsense. He slowly sat up and stretched as he clicked the call icon beside your name, eyes still too full of sleep to attempt texting you back.

You picked up on the first ring, some rustling coming down the line before he heard you speak, “Maseyyy, hiiii baby!” Your voice was slurred, a faint thumping from the bass of the club's music could be heard in the background but not so loud he couldn't hear you. Mason frowned slightly, assuming you couldn't have been inside the venue if the music was so distant.

It wasn't often you rang Mason in the middle of the night to pick you up from a night out, when you went out for drinks with friends it would usually end at a much more civilized hour, Mason more often than not acting as your taxi. But on the rare occasion you were out beyond midnight, you would avoid disturbing Mason at all costs, not wanting to wake him up when he had a match or training the following day. You had always promised to ring him in an emergency though, so his heart jumped at the thought of you potentially being unsafe.

"Hi pretty girl, are you okay?” He tried to keep his voice level as his anxiety spiked.

“Yeah baby I’m okay,” your wobbly voice echoed into his ear, “I was wondering if you could pick me up? Lana has found a random bloke so isn’t going home now. I was gonna get a taxi home because I can’t stay at hers like planned but since you're off tomorrow I figured you'd get mad if I did.”

“Yeah of course, I'm just getting ready to come and get you now,” he couldn't help but feel irritation swell in his chest and the thought of your friend abandoning you but was relieved that you had asked, “Where are you?"

He stood from the bed, walking to the chair stood in the corner of your bedroom and yanked on his hoodie and joggers that he had thrown on it a few hours prior.

“outsideeee", you giggled down the line after a pause and another rustle in the background.

He sighed deeply, coming to the quick realisation that you weren't as sober as your messages had led him to believe, "I know that baby, what club are you at?"

In between drunken giggles you revealed the name of the club that you had ended up in that night, quietly whispering down the line that it smelt like sweaty feet in there and that was why you had taken it upon yourself to wait outside.

Furrowing his eyebrows at your response he quickly grabbed his keys from the dresser and jogged down the stairs, "Wait, are you on your own?"

"Noooo, there's a man being sick next to the lamppost and I think his friend is asleep on the floor right by my feet!" You giggled, resulting in another deep sigh from your boyfriend.

"Y/n how many times have I told you not to wander off on your own?” He grumbled out as he slid into his car, his half asleep body shivering from the cold.

The call dropped for a second as he started his engine, connecting through his car causing him to wince as your voice echoed through his speakers.

"I'm not on my own baby, I just told you, I'm with new friends!"

Mason couldn’t help but laugh at your cheer before quickly remembering his drunk girlfriend was standing outside a sketchy club, "Two random drunk men do not count as friends love, where’s Lana?”

“I told you Mase, she left with a man just now!”

“You didn't say she had already left!” He chastised, “just she wasn't going back to hers.”

Mason couldn't help but feel his anger grow towards your friend, pissed off she had ditched you in favour of hooking up with a stranger from the club. Lana was a nice girl, but Mason had seen straight through her from day dot and was forever reminding you Lana’s friendship was only there until a man came on the scene. He never anticipated she would be one to desert you on a night out when you had plans to stay at hers, otherwise he would have stayed awake and kept tabs on you.

Mason sighed yet again, “please go and wait inside until I get there baby, I'll be 10 minutes.”

“It’s okay Mase, I’ll stay with my friends!” You smiled as the man on the floor beside you began to stir.

Mason could hear the man muttering in the background of the call, panic growing by the second. He didn't mean to sound so sharp, but knew it would be the only way to get you to pay attention through your drunken haze, “Get back inside. Now, Y/N."

Mason pulled off the driveway and began his drive through the quiet streets of Surrey as you mumbled down the line in protest but followed his instructions, the music now coming through the line louder and clearer than before, "Good girl, I'm hanging up now you're inside. Just wait there, I'm only round the corner."

Mason pressed his foot to the accelerator a bit harder, praying silently there were no police cars roaming the streets as he sped to your location.

A few minutes later the club came into sight and Mason pulled up in an empty space across the street. The two men he presumed you had been standing beside were still outside on the pavement, though two more men, who he suspected were bouncers, had now joined them.

Mason looked up from his phone to see your dress-clad figure stumble from the front entrance, rolling down his window to give you a wave as he spotted you scanning the road in front of you in search of his car.

Your face broke into a grin as you spotted him, quickly darting across the empty street to his car, but not before throwing a "Bye guys!" to the two partially unconscious men you had 'befriended'.

You reached his car, leaning in through the drivers window, pouting your lips to ask for a kiss which Mason granted, pressing his lips to yours in a quick peck.

"Hi baby, I missed you", you giggled into his neck as you leaned further into the car and cuddled into his warm body.

Mason reached up to stroke your hair back, gently lifting your head so he could see your face, "missed you too pretty, did you have a good night?" He asked.

You grinned back at him, slowly nodding your head and letting out a dragged out "Yesss, the best!"

"Good, now get in the car please before someone sees and thinks I'm soliciting you", he teased, aware you weren't in the nicest area and having a half dressed woman hanging through his car window down a dark street may have looked a bit suspicious to onlookers. He leaned across the car to open the passenger side door ready for you as you let out an offended gasp.

"Hey! I'm not a prostitute! I'm your girlfriend!" You laughed, lightly smacking his chest before stumbling around to the passenger side.

He hummed in response as you slid into your seat, throwing your bag at your feet with a tired sigh. He leaned across to plug your belt in after watching you struggle, giving you another quick kiss before starting his engine and pulling away.

He spent the entirety of the short drive home quietly chuckling in response to your drunken ramblings, animatedly giving him a play by play of your night's adventures.

"And then, as I was waiting to order my drink, this guy came over and I think he might've been flirting with me, Mase!" You gasped, "he offered to buy me a drink and he kept looking at my boobs, which I thought was pretty rude. But anyway, I told him I wasn't interested and 5 minutes later he was necking on with some other girl on the dance floor so I really don't think he was that interested either!"

Mason couldn't help but burst out laughing, reaching his hand across the center console to grasp your hand in his, giving your fingers a light squeeze.

“Why are you laughing at me?” You frowned, head tilted in confusion, “That is not very nice. I haven't said anything funny.”

His lips trembled as he tried to contain his chuckles, pulling your hand up to place a kiss to it in apology, “sorry baby, you're right. Did you have a good time apart from that?”

“Yesss!” You nodded animatedly, “I had to make new friends though as Lana was sitting at the bar with this bloke most of the night.”

Mason sighed in response, reminding himself in the morning to speak to you about being careful around your so-called friend. He would never tell you what you could or couldn't do, but he couldn't help but itch at the thought of you going out with just her again. His brain was in overdrive imagining the position you may have been in if he wasn't there to come and pick you up.

“I’m glad you had fun baby girl,” he kissed the back of your hand once again, holding it against his lips for a moment as he focused on the road ahead.

He looked across at you as he pulled onto the drive, innocently staring up at him with a soft smile making his heart clench at how much he adored you. Mason turned and pressed a kiss to your softly pouted lips, pecking you one, two, three times before turning to climb out the car and walk round to the passenger side to help you out. You'd made it as far as unplugging your seatbelt as he pulled the door open, reaching down to grab your clutch and heels that you had slipped off during the journey before scooping you up from the seat and carrying you bridal style up the driveway.

"Thank you for coming to get me," you whispered into his neck as he carried you to the front door, glancing back to check the car had locked as he placed you carefully on the doorstep.

"Anytime baby" he breathed against the side of your head as he unlocked the door.

The house was dark as you made your way in, the both of you heading straight for the stairs to take you up to your bedroom, fatigue setting in as the warmth of your house consumed you. You took the stairs slowly, Mason’s large hands wrapped around your waist to guide you from behind. You leant heavily into Mason's grip as he guided you through the bedroom door and directed you into your ensuite.

"C'mon baby, sit up on the counter,” he instructed, turning you and lightly lifting you from the hips until you were settled in front of him beside the sink.

He reached into the draw to his right, pulling out some wipes and gently beginning to wash away your makeup, softly tugging the false lashes from your lids as he stood between your thighs.

You stared up at him as he worked away, brows furrowed in concentration as he attempted to wipe away every trace of makeup on your skin.

You hadn't even realised your eyes were fluttering shut until the fingers that were cupping your jaw tapped lightly against your skin, "don't fall asleep on me just yet, pretty girl, you'll be annoyed if you wake up in the morning with makeup on."

You grumbled in response, eyes shutting completely as you felt your head beginning to spin, tiredness settling deep in your bones. You heard the click of a lid, flinching slightly as Mason wiped a cold blob of what you assumed was moisturizer onto your forehead, his gentle fingers massaging the cream into your skin making you sigh in contentment.

Reaching across behind you, fumbling around until you located your toothbrush and the tooth paste, eyes too blearly to properly see what you were doing. You squinted slightly as you squirted a blob onto the head of the brush, quickly wetting it and shoving it into your mouth.

"Good try babe,” Mason paused, a chuckle leaving his mouth, “but that's my brush.”

Glancing down to the toothbrush in your hand, you shrugged, continuing to scrub your teeth as he shook his head, muttering under his breath that he would just get another one tomorrow. You rolled your eyes, figuring he had shared enough of your germs throughout the years to be that concerned but settled down when he flashed you a cheeky smile.

Carefully unwrapping your legs from his waist, he ducked out of the bathroom, returning moments later with your pajamas in his hand.

“Spit,” he murmured after stepping back between your parted thighs.

Leaning to the side, you spat the tooth paste from your mouth as instructed and turned back to look up at your boyfriend who wiped the excess foam from the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

Holding onto your hips, he gently slid you down from the counter and settled you on your feet, lifting your dress and slowly pulling it over your head. He worked in silence, unclipping your bra and sliding your knickers down your legs, quickly slipping his old t-shirt over your head before helping you step into your sleep shorts.

Once you were suitably dressed for bed and make-up free, he pressed another kiss to your lips and nodded his head towards the toilet, "go for a wee quick, otherwise you'll have us both awake again in an hour.”

You nodded in response, doing as you were told as Mason busied himself filling you a glass of water to take to bed and clearing away the used make up wipes. With a sideway glance, daring you to make a comment, he grabbed his toothbrush and gave his own teeth a quick refresh.

Flushing the toilet and shimmying your shorts back up, you joined him at the sink, knocking your hip into his as you washed your hands. He smiled with a shake of his head, watching as you skipped past him back into your bedroom and dove head first into the pile of sheets that had been left unmade from his previously disturbed slumber.

You sat up and watched him as he placed the glass of water on your nightstand, pulling your phone from your discarded clutch and plugged it in to charge. It was small actions like that that made your heart leap with affection for your boyfriend, knowing you would always be looked after and doted on as if it was second nature to him.

Mason stood back after helping you under the duvet, walking around to his side of the bed. Your eyes locked onto his bare body as you watched him pull his jumper over his head, admiring the way his back muscles moved under his soft skin. There was something so sexy to you about the way he undressed himself, roughly grabbing the collar of his top and seamlessly pulling it over his head, a sight that had you brain running away with itself as you thought back to all the times he had done that same action before having his way with you. The sight made you shiver and your skin heat, your alcohol fuelled hormones making your head spin.

Mason kept his back to you as he dropped his joggers over his narrow hips, sitting down on the edge of the bed to yank them off before settling in beside you, reaching to turn his bedside lamp off and engulfing the room in darkness.

You groaned in protest that the show had ended, rolling onto his chest as he laid back, gently scratching your nails across the light smattering of hair. He moaned in contentment at the feeling, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head and wrapping his arms around you to pin you against his chest.

"I love you," you whispered into the dark, tucking your head into his neck, hooking your leg over his hips to cuddle into him impossibly closer.

"I love you too baby," Mason hummed, rolling himself into you so your bodies were pressed against each other, lips finding yours in the dark for a loving kiss. His lips molded against yours with ease, the kiss slow and gentle, Mason eventually pulling away to let out a tired yawn.

“We better get some sleep,” he sighed, settling into the pillow, nose brushing against yours as you had decided to share his for the night, not wanting to part from his embrace.

“Night Masey,” you whispered, pecking his lips one more time for good measure, “thank you for looking after me.”

"Always."

[percyluvr]

sam winchester x fem!witch!reader summary: you're unaware of your witchy heritage, or even the existence of the supernatural, until two hunters come waltzing into your life claiming that you and your mother are witches wc: 9802 warning: pre-bunker era supernatural, violence (not a lot but enough to warrant a warning, i think), not proofread dedicated to my only (i think) pjo + spn moot, skye

“You’re up early, Sammy,” Dean says, looking into the doorway at his brother wiping sweat off his forehead. “And sweaty.”

“Yeah, I went for a jog. You should try it, it’s good for you. Plus, it’s nice outside.”

“Right, no thank you. Sleep is essential to keep looking this good.”

“Alright, man, if you say so,” Sam replies, disgust apparent on his face.

“Whatever. Listen to this,” Dean starts. “A middle-aged woman in Tupelo, Mississippi, was found dead last night with all of her teeth missing, and some freaky ass carving of some horned thing on her chest. Her husband came home and found her lying on the bathroom floor. Apparently she didn’t die until after she made it to the hospital, though, so whoever or whatever did this wanted it to be long and painful.”

“Huh. Sounds creepy.”

“Exactly. So what do you think? Our kind of gig?” Dean asks, fully knowing they were going to go find out either way.

“Yeah, definitely. Y’wanna head out now or get something to eat?”

“I’m hungry as hell. I need a burger before we deal with this.”

“I feel you. Well, not the burger part, but I’m definitely gonna need food before we head out.”

“Let’s hit the town then, see what there is to eat here,” Dean says, grabbing his jacket and shrugging it over his shoulders before walking out the door, Sam following after grabbing his laptop and jacket of his own.

****

After driving for a bit, they find a small, semi-trashy diner.

"I can't believe this is the only decent looking place in this whole town," Dean complains.

"I mean, what do you expect? We're in a town with a population below three thousand."

"Right. The food better be good or else I'll be pissed. Give me that menu," he grumpily demanded.

"Their salad looks good."

"Yeah, real funny. I'm gonna get that special edition deluxe baconator," Dean said excitedly, mood immediately improving at the sight of a greasy burger on the menu.

Sam makes a face, about to say something, but is interrupted by the waitress arriving at the table.

"You boys ready to order or do you need more time?" She asks, eyeing Dean.

"Oh, we're ready," Dean flirts.

Sam rolls his eyes. "I'll get the, uh, shake it up salad."

"Okay, and for you?" She asks Dean.

"I'll get that deluxe baconator."

"Got it, I'll be back in a sec."

She starts walking away, Dean eyeing her every step of the way.

"Seriously, dude?" Sam asks in disgust.

"Yeah, look at her, dude. Tell me you don't want a piece of that."

"Alright, man, enough. As soon as we finish we're getting right out of here, no flirting."

"Whatever. Don't be jealous you never get laid."

Sam rolls his eyes as the waitress walks over with a salad in one hand and Dean's burger in the other.

"Thank you," Dean says, giving her a wink. Sam sighs exasperatedly for what feels like the six hundredth time today.

"You've got to stop that."

"Stop what? I'm just appreciating the beauties of the world."

"Yeah, I'm ignoring you now. Eat your food so we can go."

"Who died and made you boss?" Dean mutters.

Sam ignores him, and proceeds to wolf down his salad.

"Little hungry there?" Dean asks.

"Last time I checked, I was the one that went for a three mile jog this morning, not you, so I'll eat all I want, thanks."

"Just asking, don't get your panties in a twist."

"Whatever, I'm done eating."

Dean wolfs down the rest of his greasy, and in Sam's opinion, disgusting burger, managing to nearly choke on it twice, then stands up and walks toward the counter. He turns around and mouths 'getting her number,' and raises his eyebrows twice at Sam, who just rolls his eyes in response.

Sam shakes his head and walks out to the Impala, assuming that Dean is flirting, with a side of paying for their breakfast.

He opens the shiny black door of his brother's 1967 Chevy Impala and sits down on the beige seat, looking out the window at the diner. Moments later, the door opens and Sam sees Dean’s smug smile and a small piece of paper being waved around in the air.

When Dean sits down in his car, he immediately looks at Sam. “And that is how it’s done by a true master of charm,” he boasts, putting the key in the ignition and shifting to reverse.

“Good for you. I can get girls’ numbers too, y’know. I’m not celibate, or whatever crap you call me.”

“Sure, Sammy. Whatever makes you feel better. But if you really think you can get a girl’s number instead of me, you’re mistaken. So, whoever gets the number of the hottest girl wins.”

“That’s stupid, I’m not doing that.”

“We’ll see.”

“No, we won’t see. I’m focusing on the case.”

Sam sees Dean smirk in response as they pull out of the parking lot. He clenches his jaw in annoyance.

****

Halfway on the way to Tupelo, Sam asks, “So what do you think we’re looking at here? ‘S not everyday we work a job like this.”

“Honestly? No idea. Not a big fan of the carving on the chest, either. Never seen a symbol like that before.” 

"Great," Sam grumbles, and for the rest of the car ride his thoughts were full of possibilities of what they could be hunting.

****

Four hours later, the Impala rolls into Tupelo, and the first building they see is a fairly decent looking motel, which they decide to spend the night in. After checking into the motel, they carry their bags into the room, immediately grabbing out their fake FBI badges and cheap costume suits.

After quickly changing, they head out to the Impala. “Ready to see every dentist’s nightmare?” Dean jokes.

“Actually, pretty sure that would be you. I can’t remember a day where you didn’t eat some kind of candy or tooth rotting food,” Sam says. “Or even brushed your teeth for that matter.”

“Dude, I brush my teeth.” Sam raises his eyebrow. “Sometimes.”

Sam scoffs. “Yeah, right. Your breath smells like a dead person.”

****

Dean parks the Impala in front of a white two-story house in some, as Dean says, stuffy suburban neighborhood. They get out of the car and walk over to the house, Sam knocking on the front door.

A man, the woman's husband, Sam assumes, opens the door.

“Mr. Feezerman, we'd like to talk to you about your wife,” Sam says, flashing his fake badge.

“Thank God the FBI is involved. The cops here have no idea what's going on. Come in,” Mr Feezerman says, gesturing for them to come in.

Dean sits down on the couch, leaving Sam standing next to it.

“Mr. Feezerman, do you mind if I use your bathroom?” Sam asks.

“Go right ahead. It’s upstairs, the second door on the left.”

“Thanks,” Sam says with a little nod of his head.

Upstairs in the bathroom, Sam searches through the drawers for a hex bag, but comes up empty. He moves onto checking the cabinet below the sink, but still nothing. He finally looks in the medicine cabinet and finds a small brown cloth tied together by a leather string.

"Damn it," he grumbles.

He grabs the bag and heads back downstairs after putting it in his pocket.

He reaches the bottom of the stairs and sees Dean turn to look at him. Sam gives him a nod indicating his search was successful.

"Alright, that's all, thank you, Mr. Feezerman," Dean says.

****

"Alright, so what are we thinking?" Dean asks.

"Well, based on the hex bag I found, I'm thinking witch. And not some beginner level witchcraft, either, dude. I'm talking ancient witchcraft, warts, wrinkles, and all."

"Awesome," Dean groans.

"Yeah. And I'm thinking it's not just one witch, either. Witches this strong usually form covens to protect themselves."

"Awesome times two," Dean says, furrowing his eyebrows and grimacing.

"Well, what did you get? She have any enemies?"

"Her husband said that her and some of the other prissy ladies were in some sort of book club or whatever he said, I wasn’t really listening. I was thinking about that waitress from before,” Dean says dreamily.

“Dude, focus.”

“Right, anyways. Apparently, he found out through some lady she was friends with that she was cheating on her husband with one of the other lady’s husbands. Say that five times fast.”

“Sounds complicated, but also like we have some clear suspects.”

“Right. The book club or wine club or whatever it is these trophy wives do with their free time.”

“Dude, chill with the ‘I hate cookie-cutter families’ thing.”

“My bad.”

“You wanna head to the morgue or talk to suspects?”

“I’ll go to the morgue, you talk to suspects. I can’t handle any more of these people.”

“Alright. Did you get any names or addresses?”

“Obviously. This isn’t my first hunt,” Dean says, rolling his eyes.

“Alright, man. Take me to the first house.”

****

When they reach the first house, Sam gets out of the car.

“Meet back here in 30?” Sam asks.

“Uhh, y’know what? I think I’ll come with.” 

“What happened to not being able to handle any more of these people today?”

“Well that is one cougar just begging to be tamed,” Dean says, eyeing up the woman sitting on the porch.

“Disgusting, seriously.”

“Don’t hate the player.”

“Shut up.”

They walk up the pathway and up the stairs. When they reach the porch, the blonde woman gets up from her spot on the swing.

“Hello, boys, how can I help you?” She asks.

“FBI, we have a few questions about Amelia Feezerman,” Dean says, holding up his fake badge.

“Oh, dear. Come inside, then,” she says, leading them inside to the living room.

“So, nice place you got here,” Sam says.

“Oh, thank you,” she says, and before she can continue, Sam hears the pitter-patter of feet on the floor. “Honey, the cookies look delicious. Hopefully you two like chocolate chocolate chip.”

“Oh, I’m not really a sugar pers-“ Sam starts to say, but when he sees the woman standing in front of him, he quickly changes his mind. “But it doesn’t hurt occasionally.”

“Good, it’d be a shame if these cookies went to waste,” you say, winking at him.

“Like mother like daughter, damn,” Dean says under his breath.

Sam elbows him. “Knock it off,” he hissed.

“Before you two leave, let me know how the cookies are,” you say, gaze lingering on Sam before you walk out of the living room and back into the kitchen.

“We will,” Sam says, making ‘goo-goo eyes’, as Dean later calls them, at you.

“Dude, go in there and talk to her, I’ll talk to the mom here,” Dean says lowly to Sam, who nods in response and follows you into the kitchen.

The unfamiliar sound of footsteps prompts you to turn around, surprised to see the, in your opinion, cuter agent following you into the kitchen.

“Hello, agent,” you say with a grin.

“Hey, I’m Sam,” he shyly responds.

“Well, Sam, what did you think of the cookies?” You ask eagerly.

“They were really good. I’m really a sweets type of person, but you surprised me,” he compliments, the crinkling of his eyes serving as an effect of the wide smile gracing his face. You think that his smile makes him at least five times cuter, but you decide to keep that to yourself, for now at least.

“Well, thank you. I’m glad to contribute to the conversion of you into a dessert lover,” you joke, earning another beautiful smile from him.

“So, I’m not exactly here to talk about your cookies, however delicious they may be,” he admits, albeit a bit nervously for someone in the FBI, you think.

You raise an eyebrow. “How can I help you, then?”

“Have you heard about the death of Amelia Feezerman?” Your eyes widen, and you nearly choke on the cookie you were eating.

“What? Oh my God, no, I had no idea.”

“Ah, so you wouldn’t happen to know anything about her death?” He questions.

“Um, no? Why would I know anything about that?” You wearily ask.

“We thought that maybe you would know if there was any reason that anyone would want to hurt her.”

“Well, I didn’t really know her all that well. I know that she was in some book club thing with my mom, but that’s about it,” you say, crossing your arms. “Actually, I did hear that she was getting it on with some of her friends’ husbands.”

“Yeah, we know that,” Sam begins, “wait, plural husbands?”

“Yep,” you say, popping the ‘p.’ “She’d get with anything that breathes.”

“I see. So do you think any of these women would want to get revenge on her for that?”

“Oh, definitely. Some of these women are vicious. Rich women are some of the craziest people I’ve ever met, so glad I’m only back for three months,” you snicker.

Sam laughs. “So, you in college, then?” 

“Yeah, I’m in my third year, just home for the summer,” you explained.

“Yeah? You enjoying college?”

“Partially, I mean sometimes I miss my mom, but then I remember that visiting her means having to come back here, and I’m over it immediately,” you sheepishly admit.

“Really? It doesn’t seem too bad here, other than the death,” he says.

“Yeah, well, I guess you haven’t seen how people really are here.”

“How do you mean?”

“I guess I just mean that people here are petty and would do anything to get back at anyone for the smallest stuff,” you say sadly. “Especially some of my mom’s friends.”

You take the look on Sam’s face as an incentive to continue, “her friends are like, money obsessed, and if any other woman gets close to their husbands, somehow they’re mysteriously gone within the month. It’s kind of freaky, to be honest.”

Sam clenches his jaw as Dean walks into the kitchen.

"You ready to go?"

"Uh, yeah, give me a second.”

Dean gives him a look, but nods and leaves the kitchen.

“Give me a call if you can think of anything else that might be relevant to the case,” Sam says, handing a card with his FBI phone number on it to you.

“Will do,” you say, winking at him.

****

“Alright, so, what do you got?” Dean asks.

“Well, apparently this isn’t the first time this has happened here. According to her, multiple women go missing every year, all women that have gotten too close to the husbands of these book club ladies.”

“So we’re looking at a coven full of snotty rich women?” Dean complains, shoulders sagging.

“Guess so.”

“Doesn’t seem so bad for you though, Sammy. Don’t think I didn’t see you laying down the nerdy charm in there,” he jokes.

“I wasn’t flirting,” Sam defends. “I was just getting information and she happened to be pretty and conversational.”

“Sure, Sammy, sure.”

****

Before heading back to the motel room, Sam and Dean decide to stop by a restaurant for dinner.

“Dude, don’t tell me you’re gonna get another salad. You need some real food.”

“Like what? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure what you eat wouldn’t be classified as ‘real food’ either.”

“It’d be closer to real food than the shit you eat. You eat rabbit food, I eat manly food,” Dean argues.

“‘Manly food?’ How is it manly? It’s just greasy and disgusting. You’re gonna get a clogged artery in like 3 months because of it.”

“Whatever, I’m here for a good time, not a long time.”

Sam shakes his head and goes back to looking at the menu.

Sam’s menu browsing is interrupted by a familiar voice. “Can I get you two started with a drink?” 

He looks up to find you looking somehow just as beautiful in a waitress uniform, looking at him with stars in your eyes and a grin gracing your features.

“Well, hello again, agent. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were stalking me,” you playfully say, earning a chuckle from Sam.

“Hey, again. And yeah, I’ll just have a water,” he says.

“Alright, but honestly, I’d get the strawberry lemonade. It’s way better.”

“If you say it’s good, then I’ll give it a try,” he says, smiling coyly.

“Good, so a strawberry lemonade for you,” you start, turning to Dean, “and for you?”

Dean orders his drink, and while they wait for you to return with their drinks, they look at the food on the menus, at least Sam does, until he realizes that Dean is looking at him over his menu with a smirk on his face.

“Dude, what’s up with you and the waitress?”

“Nothing,” Sam says hesitantly. “I mean, she’s pretty, but I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? If a hot girl is hitting on you, take that as a blessing. How long has it been since you’ve gotten laid?” Dean reminds him, and for once Sam thinks he’s right, only a little bit, though. It had been a while since he even flirted with a girl, and it really couldn’t hurt, could it?

However, his train of thought is interrupted by your presence at the table again. You place each drink in front of them, being extra careful with Sam’s. 

“So, are we ready to order?” You ask.

The boys order, and you jot it down on your notepad before walking away from their table. This time, Sam takes the time to watch the way your hips swing from side to side every time you take a step. All he can think is that you have the most graceful walk he has ever seen in his life, which he then thinks is a little weird, but it’s just like him to notice these small, weird, and typically brushed over details of people.

When you back out of the kitchen doors, a plate in each hand, Sam is still staring. He can’t help thinking how beautiful you are, and how cute the smirk you always seem to have on your face is.

You place the plates down on the table. “Let me know if I can get you anything else.” You give Sam a smile that could just as easily be for both him and Dean, but he chooses to believe it was just for him.

Dean smirks. “She’s one hell of a beauty. If you aren’t gonna do anything with that blessing, I will.”

Sam gives him a dramatic look of disgust, but otherwise ignores his comment in favor of eating his sandwich. 

After they finish, Dean heads out to the car, insisting that Sam goes and talks to you. 

He walks up to the counter, money in hand. “Hey.”

You give him a grin. “Hey, there. Enjoy the food?”

“Yeah, it was really good,” he says, sliding you a twenty dollar bill. “That enough?”

You nod. “So, I get off in two hours. If you care, that is.”

He smirks. “What makes you think that?”

“Well, if my charms are still working, I would assume that you care. I’m quite pretty, after all.”

“And humble,” he jokes, earning an, in his definitely not biased opinion, adorable giggle from you. “But, yeah. You’re right, I do care.”

“Good, then meet me at the bar across the street. And don’t be late, otherwise I might find another man willing to fall under my spell.” You lean on the counter and give his hand a pat.

“Well, we wouldn’t want that to happen, so I’ll be there.” He smiles and heads out the door, leaving you leaning your head into your palm, grinning like a teenage girl that just made plans with her first boyfriend.

**** 

When Dean sees Sam walking out the door with a smug smile on his face, he can’t help but don a smile of his own. 

Sam opens the car door, greeted by Dean’s all-knowing grin. “So, you got a date tonight?”

“It’s not a date, we’re just going to the bar after she gets off work.” 

“Well, whatever, we finally got you a lady. Make the most of it, but don’t have too much fun. Still have to get rid of these witches.” Sam finds Dean’s advice very out of character, because typically he would tell him to have the time of his life, but he’s too elated to make much out of it.

“I know, man.”

Dean pats him on the shoulder. “Let’s head to the bar, get you a head start to your night of fun. I’ll look into this witch coven.”

“Dude, since when do you want to do the research?” Sam questions.

“Ever since you started getting chicks instead of me.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “You were hitting on a waitress this morning.”

“Can’t do anything with her number now, so it doesn’t count.”

“You could call it.”

“Nah, not in the area. Not worth driving all the way back for a waitress.” Sam raises an eyebrow but decides not to say anything.

**** 

In the bar, Sam and Dean are sitting at a small round table. Sam is drinking a bottle of beer while sitting across from Dean, who for once for once is not trying to get laid, but is actually researching the case at hand.

“Alright, so get this. These moms meet up at your new girlfriend’s house every Tuesday and Thursday and are there until, like, four in the morning.”

“Where are you getting this information?” Sam asks, using his years of enduring Dean’s teasing to skilfully avoid giving into Dean’s provocation.

“Some noise complaints that have been filed over the past few years.”

“So these are for sure our witches, then,” Sam observes.

“Seems like it,” Dean agrees.

Sam finishes his second beer of the night and grabs one of the files in front of Dean. 

“Alright, so there are four witches in this coven,” Sam reads from the file.

“Do you think the chick you’re meeting is also in it?” Dean asks.

Sam rests his chin on his palm, giving it some thought. He knew that some witches were born with their abilities, and since your mother was a witch, it was likely that you were born as one, but that didn’t necessarily mean that you were in on the killing, or that you even knew that you had powers. He hoped that you weren’t, but he thinks that he also wouldn’t mind it too much if you were. He would never admit it to Dean, but he thought that if you were a witch, it might be pretty cool.

“I don’t think so, she seemed really concerned about the killings and disappearances,” he defends.

“You’re just saying that because you’ve got the hots for her.”

Sam makes a face. “Yes, I like her, but I’m serious. I don’t think she is.”

“Alright.” Dean puts his hands up as if to say ‘Sorry, please don’t kill me now.’ 

Sam sees you walk in the door, heading straight for the bar. After taking a few more sips out of his new bottle of beer, he gets up out of his chair. Dean gives him a ‘go get ‘em tiger’ look, which he gracefully ignores in favor of sitting on the stool next to you.

“Hey there, stranger,” you say, batting your eyelashes at him.

“Hey,” he says giddily, causing you to come to the realization that he’s already at least a bit drunk. 

“So you’re a happy drunk,” you observe.

“Whaaat? I’m not drunk,” he argues.

You give him a knowing smile, but indulge him anyway. “Alright, fine. How’s the case going?”

“‘S good, we have suspects now,” he boasts.

“Yeah? I assume that’s all thanks to your hard work here,” you tease.

He gives you a toothy grin. “You know it.”

The bartender comes over and you order some fruity drink that Sam doesn’t catch the name of. When you get it, Sam asks to try it, which you oblige, of course.

“Wow, that’s good. I want one, too.”

“It is, but is that really a good idea? How many beers have you had already?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Two, but I started on my third.”

“Oh. Well, I guess you can have some more of mine, but don’t drink too much. It’s pretty strong, and we wouldn’t want your partner over there to have to deal with you being too drunk,” you tease.

He frowns. “Who cares what he thinks? He’s bossy,” he groans. “And annoying,” he adds for safe measures.

You give him a comforting smile and a pat on his arm, causing you to realize just how muscular it is, along with the rest of his body. You somehow didn’t notice before, but now that you have, it’s all that’s on your mind.

“Sounds like I’ll have to take you off his hands for the night then, huh?” 

He notices that your hand is still on his arm, causing a light pink to dust his cheeks. “Sounds like a plan.”

“So, once you’re done with this case, how long until you leave?”

“It depends. Could be a week, could be the same day we finish the case. For you, though, I’m sure I can arrange staying around for a bit longer,” he suggests.

“That sounds nice,” you admit.

“Good, I’ll work it out then,” he states. “You look beautiful, sorry for not saying it earlier.”

“Well, thank you.” You grin, slightly shocked at how bluntly he says it, but you’re definitely not complaining. Looking over Sam’s outfit, you can’t help notice how good he looks in jeans and a flannel. The way the sleeves of his flannel tighten around his arms doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Now that you’ve seen how he looks in the basic combination, you don’t think you’ll ever be able to think another man looks good in it. “You don’t look half bad yourself. Casual is your look, agent. Not to mention that shirt is doing wonders for your arms,” you compliment, causing a dark blush to appear on his face for the second time tonight.

“Thanks,” he mumbles in embarrassment, clearly not expecting you to have flirted back, and if he did, he definitely didn’t expect you to flirt so blatantly. He’s flustered, and so, he decides to shift the conversation topic off of himself. “So, where do you go to college?”

“Last year I transferred to Stanford, but I went to an in-state college that was far enough away from here before.”

Sam raises his eyebrows, giving you a small smile. “I went to Stanford, too.”

“Really?” You ask.

“Yeah, I was studying to be a lawyer. Until my brother came to my apartment and told me he needed my help looking for our dad, at least” he admits.

“You didn’t finish school?”

“No, but it turned out to be a good thing,” he says, his voice sounding like he was trying to convince not only you, but himself as well. You raise an eyebrow, but in hopes of not upsetting the cute puppy-eyed boy you’d met only hours earlier, ultimately decide against saying anything to contradict his statement. Luckily, he doesn’t seem to notice your hesitance to accept his statement.

“I’m glad. Although, I’m sure you could still finish school if you ever wanted to. It wouldn’t hurt to have a back-up plan,” you suggest, laughing internally at the fact that being a Stanford educated lawyer would be his ‘back-up plan.’

“I guess. But I don’t think I could let Dean work all by himself.” The crestfallen expression he has on his face after imagining leaving Dean, paired with his puppy dog eyes is almost too much for you to handle. 

You put your hand on his arm, rubbing your thumb across the flannel he was wearing. “You’re a good partner, Sam. He’s lucky to have you.”

A perplexed look flashes across his face until he realizes that you meant they were FBI partners, and he quickly recovers by giving you a small smile. You find yourself unable to think about anything but his gorgeous eyes, sweet smile, and silky hair, causing you to get that warm fuzzy feeling that all your friends describe when talking about their boyfriends, and you feel yourself returning a smile without even trying. It felt almost like a reflex, and you realized that you were developing a crush on the tall, sweet, doe-eyed man. This thought is even further confirmed after Sam puts his large hand over yours, curling his fingers around your significantly smaller ones, causing your heart-rate to pick up.

You don’t even notice the blush appear on your face until you hear Sam’s teasing voice. “Now who’s the one blushing?”

“It’s just the lighting, don’t get all cocky,” you try to defend, to no avail, though, since Sam’s mischievous grin does not falter after hearing your defense.

“If you say so,” Sam says, doing his best not to let a doubtful expression cross his face.

“I do,” you firmly state. A small lull of silence overcomes the conversation, and you search through your brain to search for a new topic to discuss. “You said you have a brother? What’s his name?”

“Uh, about that. Dean is my brother.” Your eyebrows lift slightly.

“No way. You guys are brothers and work together? That’s pretty cool,” you observe.

“Yeah, sometimes. Other times he’s a real dick, though.”

“I bet. But he seems pretty nice for the most part.”

“He’s a good guy, he just thinks he has to protect everyone, especially me. He doesn’t realize I can do things on my own. I mean I was in college without him and I did just fine.”

You nod sympathetically, understanding how complex family relationships can be. From there, the conversation flowed smoothly and you felt like you could tell Sam anything without any judgment, leading you to ask, “Would you, uh, want to come over to my house for the night? My mom isn’t going to be home tonight.” As you say it, you feel like you’re in high school all over again, and you start to regret the words as soon as your lips stop moving.

Sam’s eyes widen and he stays quiet, further fueling your regret. For those brief few seconds, your mind races and you worry if you came off too strong or if he simply isn’t interested in you past a drunk conversation and flirting. Luckily, he realizes the look on your face and saves you from any further anxiety. 

“Sure, that sounds good.” Once again, the infamous smile graces his features, cheeks puffing up causing his eyes to crinkle and because not only is his face beautiful, of course his eyes have to be, too. You swear, even if no one else in the whole world agrees, his eyes are so beautiful in that moment that they glimmer.

You beam at him and slip off your stool, grabbing his hand and leading him off to the door. He looks back at Dean to find him already smirking at him. Dean gives him a wink, and for what is probably the millionth time in his life, Sam completely ignores him, focusing on the way you’re eagerly dragging him out of the place and to your car.

****

The next morning, Sam wakes up in a room that is far too nice to be the hotel that he and Dean were staying at, even though they always got the best room. He quickly remembers the events of last night and smiles. Although, his smile fades when he looks next to him to find you nowhere in sight. He rubs his eyes, looking around the room at the posters and decorations that let him peer into a tiny part of your life without worrying if he was overstepping any boundaries. 

He gets out from under the blanket and slips off the side of the bed, walking over to your desk that holds a curious collection of trinkets and a book full of pictures. He’s in the middle of flipping through the book when he hears the creaking of a door opening, and his reflexes have him whipping his head to see where the noise came from. You let out a little giggle when you find his face looking like a little kid that just got caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. He tilts his head as if asking what you were laughing at, but you just shrug, a cheeky grin still on your face.

“Whatcha doin’ there, Sam?” 

For a moment, Sam is at a loss of words. “Uh, I was just….” He trails off.

“Don’t worry, I’m not mad. Just wondering what you’re looking at.” Your words clearly ease his mind, as he picks up the open photobook and points at the picture he was looking at. You smile as you look at a highschool version of you with some of your friends at a festival. 

“It’s a cute picture. You dyed your hair, though. I almost didn’t realize you were in it at first.”

“Yeah, I figured since I was going to college I should switch it up a bit.”

You sit on the edge of the bed, watching as Sam continues to flip through the pages. You carefully watch his expression change as his eyes move around the pages looking at different moments of your life. He was glad to get even more of a glance into who you were. 

Eventually, he reaches the end of the book and closes it, setting it back down on its rightful place on your desk. He joins you on the bed, sitting an awkward distance away from you, causing you to let out a small chuckle.

“What?” He questions, his puppy-dog eyes in full effect again.

“You can come closer, y’know. I don’t bite,” you tease. He blushes, as even more memories of last night flood into his brain. You definitely bit, but apparently only during certain hours of the day.

He scoots closer to you until your shoulders are comfortably pressed together. You take advantage of the proximity and lean your head on his shoulder.

“So, any plans for today?” You ask him.

“Not really. Just stuff for the case. I should probably check my phone.” You nod, and Sam thinks that the divine beauty of the slight raise at the corners of your mouth is unrivaled by any other sight Sam has ever seen, and he has seen almost too much in his short life.

He reaches over to the table next to your bed, trying his best not to move away from you and disturb your peaceful state of simple existence. He turns on his phone, seeing a few texts from Dean with more details on the case. He turns his phone off and decides that it wouldn’t hurt to stay here with you for another hour. You’re surprised by the weight of his head resting on top of yours, but who are you to complain? 

****

Unfortunately, an hour can go by very fast when you’re, as they say, having fun. Watching Sam walk out of your house pulled on a part of your heart that you wish it hadn’t, knowing that Sam would soon be leaving your not so small town and you would more than likely never see him again. You don’t think you would be able to handle not seeing him again, even though the two of you have known each other for less than a mere day. With these thoughts swirling around in your brain, all you can do is give him a small wave when he turns around to look at you one last time before getting into his brother’s ‘67 Impala.

****

“Dude, tell me about your night. Was it the craziest sex you’ve ever had? Is she freaky? Waitresses always are, man.” Dean’s rambles fill Sam’s ears as soon as he closes the door to the old, black car.

“Really? You couldn’t even wait five seconds before you start with this?” Sam complains.

“You haven’t gotten laid in centuries, Sammy, excuse me if I want to know if my little brother had a good time.”

“Shut up.” 

As usual, Dean completely ignores Sam’s protests and continues asking graphic questions about the ‘hot witch waitress’ until they arrive at the house of one of the witches in the coven.

****

Dean knocks on the door of the white two-story house, and within seconds is met with the face of a standard looking middle-aged woman.

“Hello, ma’am, FBI,” Dean says, flashing his fake badge, actions in sync with that of his younger brother.

The woman’s eyes widen slightly, but she schools her face back into neutrality quite quickly. “Come on in.” She motions for them to step into the house.

Dean sits down on the large couch in the living room, leaving Sam to remain standing next to it. “Do you mind if I use your bathroom?” Sam asks.

“Of course, go right ahead. Up the stairs and two doors to the right.”

Sam gives her a grateful smile before he walks out of the living room and heads up the stairs. When he began his search, he had expected to find one hex bag, or maybe even zero, but what he hadn’t expected was three. He raised an eyebrow, assuming that all the others in the coven would have at least coordinated this better, but here he was, looking at three different hex bags.

He quickly grabs them before flushing the toilet to avoid suspicion or potential disgust on the woman’s part if she realized that he hadn’t flushed the toilet. 

Heading back down the stairs, he gives Dean a small nod to indicate his findings and to signal Dean to wrap up his investigation.

“You boys have a good day, good luck with your investigation,” the woman says, closing the door behind them as they walk down the stairs connected to the front porch.

“Dude, there were three hex bags in her bathroom,” Sam says, pulling the bags out of his pocket.

“I thought they only needed one? What’s the point of having more?” Dean inquired.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s more powerful or something.”

Dean made a sound of acknowledgement but said nothing in return. Sam took it as a cue to continue talking.

“So, I was thinking we just wait until a night that they meet up and then ambush.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Dean agreed.

****

Back at the hotel room, Sam is researching more for the case, just to be safe, while Dean is out grabbing something for them to eat. Sam assumes that he’s gone back to the restaurant you work at so he can grab another glance at you.

Sam is deep into a passage on witchly powers when his phone rings, he assumes it’s Dean, but the small screen shows an unknown number. His eyebrows raise, but he answers the phone nonetheless. 

“Hello? Sam?” A familiar, but shaky voice asks from the phone.

He says your name as if it were a question, to which you quickly say, “Yes, um, sorry to be calling this late but I think there’s someone in my house.”

Sam’s jaw clenches, his whole face tensing up before quickly relaxing again as he prepares to defend the woman that he now found lingering in every crevice of his mind.

“I’ll be there in 5 minutes. Just lock your door and stay in your room, alright?” 

“Okay. Please stay on the phone with me, I’m really scared,” you admit.

“Yeah, yeah, you got it,” he says, rushing out the door of the hotel room before realizing that Dean was still out getting food. “Shit,” he breathed. However, now he could finally reap the benefits of his daily morning runs.

“What?” 

“Nothing, just a slight change of plans. Just stay calm.” His voice was slightly strained and now sounded more like a moan than actual words, and if you weren’t so damn scared you might have found it sexy.

****

About seven minutes and lots of heavy breaths from Sam’s end of the phone later, Sam was at the front door of your house, gun full of witch-killing bullets ready in one hand, and his small phone in the other. 

“I’m here, you’ll be good if I get off the phone?” He asks, fully ready to somehow manage to find a way to stay on the phone while fighting if you need him to.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Do what you need to do, please,” you say, but he hears the fear in your voice.

“I’ll be done and up there as soon as possible, alright? Don’t worry.”

He hears a small sound of acknowledgement from the other end of the phone before he finally ends the call and goes into the house. He heads straight for the door to the basement that, luckily, he had found when he made his journey to the bathroom the first time he was over at your house. He opens the door and grabs a second gun out of his pocket for safe measures, especially since Dean was nowhere to be found despite Sam’s multiple texts.

He slowly creeps down the stairs, doing his best not to let his weight cause the stairs to creek. Fortunately, he makes it down soundlessly, but is now stuck with the task of creeping through the abnormally large basement without getting cornered by witches.

It takes a few minutes before he finally hears the loud chanting start back up again, and while he knows that he’s probably free to walk as loudly as he wants to, he still keeps up the stealth.

The chanting slowly gets louder, and Sam steadies his arms to shoot both guns. As soon as he sees two figures in the door frame, he pulls the trigger on both, not wanting to risk the chances of them performing some spell on him before he gets a chance to get them first.

Unfortunately, he’d forgotten that there was still a third member of the coven, and as soon as he turns around, he’s met with the face of your mother, as well as a book harshly hitting his head and rendering him unconscious. 

The next thing he knows, he’s tied up in the same room that he shot the two witches.

“You’re not FBI, you’re hunters,” your mother says, disgust obvious in her voice.

“Like you’re any better. You kill innocent people,” Sam grunts, starting to discreetly rub the rope he was tied up with against the chair to cut it.

“Innocent? Oh, please, no one in this world is innocent, especially not you, and even more so since you’ve involved yourself with my daughter,” she spat.

Sam grimaces. “Oh, yes, I know all about that.” She smirks.

Sam is about to speak, but is interrupted by your voice calling out for him. As your voice grows closer and closer, Sam realizes his progress on the rope is not as fast as he hoped, and if he didn’t hurry up, you’d be in the room before he was free. 

However, to his dismay, you enter the room before he can free his arms, and all that he can think about is how awful it would be to watch you die, especially by the hands of your own mother. The nauseating thought is interrupted by a loud smashing sound that Sam immediately recognizes as a bat to the head. His head shoots up and he sees you, eyebrows furrowed with your eyes glazes over as you realize what you’ve done. 

He finally manages to get the rope holding his hands behind his back cut as you sink down onto your knees and start sobbing. His first reaction is to run over and hold you, asking if you’re okay, but he isn’t sure if that’s what you would want, and there’s no way in hell that he would want to upset you even more.

He settles for walking over to you and kneeling down with one hand on your back rubbing what he hopes are soothing circles on it.

“It’s gonna be okay, I promise,” he comforts. “It’ll get better. Just know you had to do this, alright?”

“I know, Sam, but it doesn’t make it any easier. I didn’t even think about it, I just saw you tied up, and that was my first reaction. Am I insane?”

“Hey, hey, don’t say that. It’s fine, you’re fine.”

Finally, you turn towards him and collapse into his arms, and though he’s surprised, he catches you and holds you closely and firmly to his chest. The hand that was once on your back is now on your head, comfortingly playing with your hair, and the other is wrapped around your waist as you sob into his shoulder.

****

Hours later, you’ve finally calmed down, and you and Sam are in your living room sitting on your couch, along with Dean, the other FBI agent that had arrived while you were still sobbing, much to your later embarrassment. However, Sam had reassured you that it wasn’t embarrassing, and Dean definitely wouldn’t find it so.

After his reassurance, you could find no trace of embarrassment still lingering in your mind. It was surprising that someone you’d only met a few days ago was able to not only understand you like that, but also manage to diminish your insecurities so easily. You found yourself thinking about how much you and Sam seem to have in common and how easy it is to talk to him. 

You lean your head on his shoulder, and out of the corner of your eye you see a small smile on his face. He wraps his arm around your shoulder and brings you closer to him.

“Oh, get a room,” Dean grumbles in annoyance, but Sam knows that he’s just faking it. He knows Dean too well to not realize that he really is happy for him.

****

When you wake up the next day you feel a warm presence next to you in your bed. You quickly recognize the presence as Sam, leading you to snuggle closer, resting your head on his chest.

“Good morning,” Sam says groggily, his voice breaking you out of the peaceful trance you were in.

“Good morning,” you reply.

Sam gives your arm a small squeeze before sitting up. You mirror his actions, ready to start a conversation, but are interrupted by the loud sound of his phone.

He gives you an apologetic look and grabs his phone to presumably read a text.

“It’s Dean. He has a lead on the case,” he states, to your annoyance.

“That’s good, I think. Would it be wrong for me to ask if I could come with?”

Sam’s eyebrows raise at your unexpected request. He stays quiet for a few seconds before replying, “I won’t say no, but I also don’t want you to get hurt. So, I have to be honest with you.”

You tilt your head, encouraging him to continue.

“My brother and I aren’t FBI, we’re hunters.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “What?” 

Sam swallows as if to prepare for the words about to leave his mouth.

“Monsters are real. Vampires, ghosts, all of it. My brother and I hunt them.” As the words are leaving his mouth, Sam is suddenly hit with a wave of regret. What if you don’t believe him? What if you think he’s crazy and tell him to leave?

You, on the other hand, were thinking about how happy you were that Sam was comfortable enough with you to tell you about his real life. In the future, Sam would probably laugh about how vast the difference of what was going on in each of your minds, but now, he was taking your silence as negative.

When you saw the worry on Sam’s face, you immediately realized that you’d been sitting in complete silence since he’d admitted the truth about him and his brother. 

“Really?” The one simple word brought Sam joy and relief like no other moment in his life.

“You actually believe me?” He asks in disbelief.

“Yeah, I mean what reason do I have not to? It does sound kind of insane, but I also bashed my mom’s head in with a bat yesterday, so…” You trail off, realizing that once again you’d been using humor as a coping mechanism instead of dealing with your problems.

Sam clears his throat, now feeling very awkward. “Right… About that, are you sure you want to come with? You’ve already been through a lot.”

“It would probably help to get my mind off of it, even if more traumatizing shit ends up happening, too.”

He pursed his lips, deep in thought. “Yeah, alright. If that’s what you want, I won’t stop you.”

You smile. “Yeah, it is.”

**** 

Half an hour later, you’re sitting in the back seat of the infamous black Impala with some old rock song that Dean picked playing.

“Sam, are you sure about bringing her?” Dean asks lowly, as if you couldn’t hear him from your spot right behind him. 

“Yes, Dean. It’s not like we’re leaving her to fend for her own while we go together,” he says exasperatedly.

“If you say so.”

You clear your throat, prompting Sam to turn around and give you an apologetic smile. You return the smile, but the annoyance you feel towards Dean does not dissipate. If anything, you feel it even more so after Sam apologized instead of him.

You decide to ignore it and stay quiet for the rest of the drive.

A few minutes and one rock song later, the Impala pulls into a driveway that you recognize as one of your mom’s friend’s house. You furrow your eyebrows.

“Why are we here?”

Dean clicks his tongue. “You didn’t tell her?”

“Well, Dean, I’m sorry that I didn’t want to overwhelm her,” he sasses.

“It’s a little late for that, don’t you think? You brought her on a damn hunt.”

The air in the car suddenly felt awkward and you felt as though you shouldn’t be listening to their conversation. 

“I’m just gonna get out and let you two finish your discussion,” you said quickly before opening the door and walking over to the porch of the house.

As you walked up the stairs, the front door opened, and the face of your old best friend from high school appeared in the doorway. 

She called your name, a big smile adorning her face.

“Lily, hey!” You said, feigning excitement to see the girl after three years.

“It’s been so long! Come inside. My mom is downstairs,” she exclaims, ushering you into the house and nearly slamming the door shut once you’ve entered her house. As soon as you enter the house, a chill runs down your spine and you can’t help but feel nervous about what’s about to happen.

****

You’d been in the house for a few minutes before Sam and Dean had even realized you hadn’t been sitting on the porch the whole time they’d been arguing, and when Sam looked over to see what you were doing, a wave of panic rushed through his whole body.

“Dean, she’s gone.”

“What the hell? See, this is why we shouldn’t have even brought her with us.”

“Dude, whatever, it doesn’t matter, we gotta go find her right now.”

Sam quickly opened the passenger door and rushed out of the car and through the front door.

He opens the door, quickly checking the living room. Nothing. He checks the kitchen and the dining room. Nothing and nothing. He checks all the rooms on the first floor and the second floor, then goes back to the first floor to check again, when he hears Dean calling out to him.

“Sam? Come here, I found a door to a basement or somethin’,” he calls out.

Sam follows the sound of his brother’s gruff voice and finds a door he doesn’t know how he missed. He’s usually thorough about searching, but he finds himself extremely on-edge this time. He thinks it might somehow, maybe, have something to do with his not-so-subtle crush on you, and maybe the thought that losing you would be one of the worst things that has happened to him even though he’s barely known you for five days.

He quickly pushes the thought to the back of his mind, at least for now, in favor of pushing ahead of Dean and heading down the stairs into the basement.

His mind is now absent of any “lovey-dovey” thoughts of you, but chock full of thoughts about how you could be dead right now. He never should have let you get out of the car and go inside without him. If you were dead, it would be all his fault, and he would never be able to escape the guilt of having another death on his conscience. 

However, with all of these thoughts, the thought that you could actually hold your own against the witches had somehow never crossed his mind. It definitely should have, though, because when he finally reaches you, you’re standing over two feminine figures that are lying still on the ground. 

He sees your chest rising and falling as the iron tight grip you have on the knife in your hand begins to falter. The knife clatters onto the floor as you look over to see Sam.

“Sam,” you pant, and he immediately rushes over to you and takes your tired figure into his arms. He immediately feels blood that he isn’t sure of the origins beginning to soak into his jacket, but he can’t bring himself to care about that right now. The only thing he cares about is your safety, and preserving that safety for as long as he possibly can from here on out.

“Are you okay?” He whispers next to your ear.

“No, Sam, I killed my mom and then my best friend from high school and her mom in the span of not even twenty-four hours. I feel horrible.”

“You had to, okay? They were killing people. Maybe that doesn’t help you feel better right now, but eventually it will. Don’t beat yourself up over it, or you’ll end up hating yourself for the rest of your life. This is how it is to be a hunter, and I understand if after now you never want to do it again,” he rambles, trying to somehow make you feel better, which he knows is nearly impossible right now, but he can’t stop himself from trying. To him, it almost feels like someone is taking control of his body and making him do everything in his power to help you.

He realizes very quickly, though, that it’s not a person taking control of his body, but an emotion: love. The realization is scary for him, to say the least, especially because of his track record with girlfriends dying, but he thinks that he would be okay with overcoming this fear if it means you would be his.

A few seconds later, Dean walks into the room and finds himself met with the sight of your shorter figure being held, in his opinion, disgustingly lovingly by his brother. He’s happy that his brother has found someone that seems like a good person from what he can tell.

Dean whistles, eyebrows raising in approval at the sight of the two witches’ bodies behind your back. “Damn, and you didn’t even need my help. You’re getting better, Sammy.”

Sam shakes his head. “I didn’t do this. She did,” he replies, turning around and giving Dean a smug look. Dean gives him a look of annoyance at being proven wrong when it comes to your ability to fight, but ultimately decides to give it a rest, for today at least. He could tell you were shaken up, and he felt that he could sympathize, only a bit, though.

When he realizes that you had taken out the two witches on your own, he couldn’t help but feel impressed, and he confidently feels that you and Sam are right for each other. It’s funny that it isn’t your loving personality or quirky teasing that tells him that you’re right for Sam, but instead the fact that you can hold your own in a battle. That really is a more valuable asset in their lives than any regular person, so Dean is glad that his brother has been lucky enough to find someone like that.

****

Later that day, you’re all standing outside your house that now feels very empty without your mother. You never realized how much of a presence she really had until now, and admittedly, it makes you sad to think about, no matter how much you disliked her.

Unfortunately, it’s about to get a whole lot emptier with Sam and Dean ready to head out to their next case. However, Dean’s voice shakes you out of your thoughts, and his words shock you even more.

“Kid, how would you feel about joining us for a few more hunts, see how you feel? Who knows, maybe you’ll become a permanent member of our group here.” 

Sam gives him a look of pure astonishment, but all he receives in return is a smug look and a little shrug.

“Well, I don’t know. I don’t want to be a burden to you guys with all the teaching me how to hunt and all that.”

“I don’t think we’d have to do too much teaching. You’re a natural,” Sam compliments, causing a deep blush to appear on your cheeks.

“Alright, Sammy. We’re gonna have to work on all that flirting,” Dean teases. “I’ll admit, I do agree, though. That was impressive. I probably couldn’t have done that on my first hunt,” he admits.

His unexpected words of praise make you smile, and your annoyance from earlier fades away. Dean could be a pain in the ass from what you’ve learned, but he could also be nice. You figured he was usually a pain in the ass, though, but you figured that you would be able to learn how to deal with it, or at least ignore it like Sam seems to be able to do.

“Alright. To be honest, it was kind of exhilarating, but also scary. I think it could be something I could learn to love, though.”

Sam gives you a warm smile, and gestures for you to go over there to give him a hug, which you excitedly accept, falling into his larger frame as his long arms wrap around you.

Dean grumbles. “Really? Again?”

All you and Sam do in response is laugh, much to Dean’s annoyance.

a/n: would yall be interested in this being a series or something ?? idk i feel like that would be fun to do

tags: @kozumesphone

[loveshotzz]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do Perv!Eddie getting caught masterbating with his best friends stolen panties only to find out she’s as perverted as him? Please and thank you!

also- if you could add the fact that reader has stolen things from him too? thank you!

Love your work!! ❤️

OOOO THIS IS SPICY. Let me see what I can do for you bb 💞 I hope you like it!

Warnings: Masturbation both m and f. Perv!Eddie and Perv!Reader. MINORS DO NOT ENTER.

You watched Eddie frantically throw clothes around his room, shirts, pants, underwear.

“Where the fuck is it?” He mutters under his breath, dumping out his laundry basket all over the floor. His room looks like a bomb went off.

“What are you looking for?”

Eddie’s hunched over the pile of clothes on the ground, the bottom of his hellfire shirt rising up. Blue and white checkered boxes peak out the top of his tightly fitted jeans. Biting your bottom lip the sight makes your thighs press together.

God, you gotta get it together, he’s your best friend.

“My favorite Iron Maiden shirt, I haven’t seen it for like a week. I wanted to wear it to the show tomorrow.” His voiced is muffled as he moves to his small closet ripping everything out of there next.

Your eyes go wide at the mention of his Iron Maiden shirt. You had pocketed that shirt in your back pack last week while Eddie had been in the shower. Both of you had spent all day outside at Lovers lake, the heat of the sun making you both sweaty messes. There was something about Eddie’s musk that had always made your mouth water, you couldn’t help but turn into a thief when the opportunity presented itself.

On nights after the days where his fingers brushed against you more then normal or he used pet names a little too freely, you’d wrap it around your pillow using it to get yourself off. Imagining it was his cock you were bouncing on, his scent swirling around you made your fantasies seem real in the moment.

Heat rising to your cheeks you had to think of something quick. You couldn’t just let him destroy his room for something he was never going to find.

“Why not your AC/DC one? With the flames? That one’s cooler.” You try lamely, nervous fingers playing with the hem of your shorts.

“No, I want this one.” You knew once he made up his mind there was no going back. “I just don’t know where it is, I wore it to the Lake last week…” Eddie stands there looking up at the ceiling trying to jog his memory of its whereabouts. Index finger following an imaginary timeline.

Suddenly his dirty carpet is the most interesting thing in the world to you. Sweaty palms and rosy cheeks, if Eddie were paying more attention he’d see the guilt written all over your face.

The sound of Uncle Wayne opening the front door is your saving grace, using the distraction to make a quick exit you ignore Eddie’s confusion at your sudden need to leave.

You were going home and washing that shirt, you’d sneak it back into his room when he wasn’t home. He’d never know.

——

Eddie always had band practice on Friday’s the one day out of the week he didn’t take you home from school. It was the perfect time to do it, all you had to do was wait until Wayne went to work.

It sounded like a fool proof plan until you showed up that late afternoon and Eddie’s van was still parked in front.

After an internal battle you decide you’re already here and the shirt was clean in your hand. You just needed an excuse to give him as to why you had it.

The walk up to his front door is spent running through a list of reasons why, finally landing on accidentally grabbing it with a shirt that you had left here. It wasn’t a far off excuse, practically living here part time.

Digging the spare key he had given you out of your pocket, you let yourself in. It was something you did all the time, Eddie always playing his music too loud to hear you knocking.

Shutting the door behind you, it takes you a minute to realize how quiet the trailer is. Eddie’s van was here, Wayne was gone, usually your eardrums are threatening to rupture.

“Fuck— you like that?” Eddie’s breathy voice breaks through the silence followed by a low moan.

Your heart sinks, Eddie didn’t tell you band practice was cancelled because he was with a girl. A girl that was living out your fantasies.

“You’re so fucking sexy, you like how your best friend fucks you?”

His words confuse you, is he secretly fucking Gareth? You don’t have any control over your feet as you make your way to his room,curiosity getting the best of you.

Peaking through the crack in his door, nothing could prepare you for the sight in front of you.

Eddie was laid out on his bed, shirt lifted up just above his belly button with his pants shoved half way down his thighs. His eyes were closed, brows knitted together with a light sheen of sweat on his forehead causing his bangs to stick. Your eyes roam the happy trail that haunted your dreams following the dark length of hair to an even thicker darker bush at the base of it.

His cock was everything you had ever imagined it to be, even in his big hand it looked massive. You could see the glint of precum leaking from the tip as he continued to fist himself, his motions getting faster chasing his orgasm. Eddie was close and you couldn’t find it in yourself to walk away.

Something pink caught your eye in his other hand as he brought it up to his nose inhaling deeply.

“You smell so good y/n you gonna let me cum inside of you?”

When Eddie says your name it feels like your world stops. Watching him take the pink fabric from his nose bringing it to the head of his leaking cock, you realize that pink fabric was your underwear.

The panties you had been searching days for. Finally chocking it up to them falling into the dryer abyss even though you never remembered washing them. Here they were in Eddie’s possession wrapped around his dick ready to collect his cum.

The idea of Eddie stealing your dirty panties to get off to makes the wet patch in your underwear become almost unbearable. Shuffling your feet trying to gain friction you can’t help the moan that falls from your lips.

Eddie’s eyes snap open and meet yours when he hears you at his door way, but he’s too close to stop now. Eyes locked on yours, the idea of you watching him fuck himself in your panties sends him close to the edge. When his eyes leave your half lidded one’s and he see’s the Iron Maiden shirt clutched in your hand, it all comes together. Your strange behavior, the red in your cheeks, you were stealing his clothes too.

The realization mixed with the thought of you getting yourself off with his shirt has him spilling himself into the soft fabric of your panties. Eyes rolling in the back of his head, his whole body convulses with the intensity of the orgasm crashing through him. Your presence escalating everything, not even his own fantasies could come up with this. With his eyes still closed Eddie needs a minute to catch his breath, his fingers gripping tightly to your panties that were now dripping with his cum.

“I just came to return your shirt.”

Part Two

[bingbongsupremacy]

This might be bad but could you write a Steve Harrington story where he left the reader for nancy after they were secretly dating bc she’s plus sized. Then once he cleans up his act he writes her a letter. I was thinking it could be based on closure by Taylor Swift! Thank you !

Closure

This isn't bad ! I can totally do that. I listened to the song for the first time today so I hope you like this! Also, This is going to be a two part piece. I wanted to give some background context so that's what this first part is about. I'll be working on part 2 soon. I hope you don't mind.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x plus size!reader

Warnings: I'm not a basketball player nor have I ever been a manager. Honestly I've never really been to a basketball game so I'm not sure if this is all super accurate. Pls let me know. Cursing, Use of Y/N, use of the word girl, some self doubt.

Series Summary: You never knew Steve could be so shallow. When he leaves you to date Nancy Wheeler, you're left with a pain you thought he'd never leave cause you. Maybe you should've stayed friends.

*Not Proof Read* Stranger Things Masterlist

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3

*****

Teenage love. Powerful. Fast. Fun. Potent.

The first boy I fell in love with was Steve Harrington. How couldn't I have? His perfect hair. Beautiful eyes. His flirty smile.

Every girl liked Steve at one point or another.

Steve and I grew up together in Hawkins. We never had the same classes together, but boy, I knew of Steve. We finally officially met in high school when I became the manager for the Hawkins High Basketball team.

Freshman Year - 1981

" Alright guys, huddle up. " Coach Ryan shouts to the sweaty boys drilling around the gym. " This is our manager. You will treat them with respect, you hear? I want none of that bullshit that went on last year. You got that Seniors? " Coach Ryan sends a pointed look at the upperclassmen. " If I hear of anyone disrespecting our manager, you'll be running on bleachers for the next month. I'm serious. "

What an introduction.

I shift slightly, a little uncomfortable with the gazes of the boys. I send a small smile to the team, trying to calm myself. " Hey, guys. Let me know if you need anything. " I scan the group in front of me. My eyes land on a familiar face on the back row. His friendly smile sends a wave of butterflies fluttering throughout my body. My eyes linger on him for a few seconds before I force myself to look away.

The last thing I need is for him to realize I like him. How awkward.

The coach makes a few more announcements before he dismisses the boys to the locker rooms.

" I needs you to gather up the balls and take them back to the equipment room. " Coach Ryan nods in the direction of the small closet on the other side of the room.

" Sure thing! Anything else? " I ask, reaching down to pick up one of the stray balls.

" Not that I can think of. I'll be in my office if you need me. " Coach Ryan nods a goodbye before heading towards the boys locker room where his office is located.

I look around the gym. Abandoned basketballs lay scattered around the gym. This is going to take a minute.

I pull the metal ball holder behind me as I begin picking everything up.

" Here ya go. " A voice startles me from behind.

I turn to see Steve holding two basketballs under his arms. He sends me a small smile.

" Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. " He sets the basketballs on the top rack.

I smile back at him. " It's all good. I scare easily. "

Steve jogs over to one of the balls a few feet away from us, swiftly picking it up.

" Oh, you don't need to do that. I've got it. It's my job anyway. "

Steve shakes his head, a looks piece of hair falling in front of his face. " I don't mind. It's kinda fucked up you have to clean up our mess. "

I shrug. " I mean, I signed up to do it. "

Steve nods. " Why did you sign up to be a manager? "

" Honestly, to get out of class. " I feel heat begin to spread over my face at the sound of Steve's laugh. " I hate biology. "

" Whaddya mean? Mr. Jackson's a world-class comedian. You're telling me you don't like his cell jokes? " Steve grins.

I cringe, memories of Mr. Jackson's awkward dad jokes and the silence following filling my mind. " I could do without. "

" You know, I don't think we've actually ever talked before. " Steve points out while heading towards another ball. Instead of returning it to the cart, he dribbles it towards the hoop closest to us. He shoots it into the hoop, the ball making a loud sound as it returns to the ground.

" Well, we've never had a class together. " I shrug, taking the ball from him as he hands it over to me.

" What a shame. "

Does Steve like talking to me?

" I mean, that doesn't mean we can't start now. We're gonna be stuck together for the next few months. "

Steve picks up the last basketball. " True. I gotta go get changed before my mom gets here. It's been nice. See ya tomorrow? " His eyes steadily hold my gaze.

I nod. " For sure. "

Steve's smile widens slightly. " Later, Y/N. "

" Bye Steve. " My throat feels tight from excitement. I can't believe that just happened. Steve knows I exist. He knows I exist! And he actually likes talking to me! This...this is fucking great.

Sophomore Year - 1982

" Hurry the fuck up, Y/N. " Steve groans, his sweaty forehead pressed against his forearm. He lazily leans against the now empty bleachers, his eyes following me as I finish writing down the total of money the team made off of concessions.

" I told you that you didn't have to wait for me. I have shit to finish up here. " I nod towards the clip board in front of me.

" I'd be a shitty friend if I left you here. What if you get...kidnapped or some shit. I'd be first on the suspect list. "

Friend. I'm only his friend. Gosh, I need to get over this stupid crush. I mean, it's been over a year since we met and he hasn't said anything about liking me. Why would he like me now? He's into girls like Chrissy. Why else would he flirt with girls like her and not with me? If he liked me he'd tell me. Right?

I roll my eyes, trying to shake off my thoughts and focus of the impatient boy in front of me. " Great to see you care about me so much. Definitely isn't because of your reputation. "

Steve lets out a small laugh. " You know I'm fucking with you, right? "

" I know. Look, I'm almost done. Grab your duffle from the locker, will you? By the time you get back I'll have everything finished. Plus it'll give me a break from your whiny ass. " I joke.

" Ouch. And here I thought you loved me. " Steve holds a hand up to his heart, humor clearly in his tone.

For a moment my heart begins to race. Love. He knows? He doesn't know. Shut the fuck up and be normal. He's a friend. Just a friend.

" What made you believe that? Tommy's obviously my number 1. "

I'm not the biggest fan of Tommy. He's hot a cold. Somedays he's decent, other days he's a complete shit head. He's changed a lot since middle school.

For a moment something flashes over Steve's expression. Surprise maybe? Annoyance? As quickly as it comes it's gone. His playful expression returns. " I'll be sure to let him know that. "

" Don't you fucking dare! " My head snaps towards him. " I'll kill you, Harrington. I'm not even joking. He'll never let me live that shit down, even if it's a lie. And Carol will beat the shit out of me. "

Steve raises an eyebrow in amusement. He leans back against the bleachers, crossing his arms. " Don't worry, I'll sell tickets for the show. I'll even cheer you on. "

I roll my eyes. " Of course you would. "

" I'm gonna go grab my stuff before the janitors lock the locker rooms up for the night. " Steve laughs, pushing himself up. " Hurry the fuck up before I leave you here. "

" You wouldn't dare. "

" Watch me. " With that, he strolls towards the direction of the locker rooms. His strides ooze with confidence, a kind only Steve can emit.

Steve truly is one of a kind.

Junior Year - 1983

" Are you going to prom? " Steve asks out of the blue. He doesn't bother looking up from his text book.

I swallow harshly, heat climbing up my cheeks. I hate when people ask me this. " Nah. Prom's overrated. "

Steve's eyebrow quirks up. " So you're a dance hater? "

I shrug. " I just don't see what the big deal is. Blowing a ton of cash for one night? I'd rather buy new records. " I debate whether or not to tell him the next part. " Plus no one's asked me. " They never do. Why would they when they could ask someone like Carol or Chrissy?

Steve finally looks up at me, his gaze finally meeting mine. Shock is evident in his expression. " Really? You haven't been asked? "

I shake my head, heat crawling up my face again. " Why would I? In case you haven't noticed, I don't really have a ton of guy friends. And my friend pool isn't the largest. "

Steve sends me a sympathetic smile.

Instead of comforting me, it annoys me. He doesn't understand. He's had girls asking him out and asking him to dances from the moment he was allowed to go to dances.

" Anyone would be lucky to take you. You're a great person, Y/N. "

I roll my eyes, laughing slightly. " Yeah. Lucky. "

Steve's eyebrows furrow. " Why are you laughing? I'm serious. You're like the coolest person I know. "

" Then you have a very unique perspective of the word cool. " I glance up at the clock on the wall behind him. " Shit, I told my mom I'd run to the store and pick up some potatoes for dinner. I'm gonna be late. I gotta go. " I rush to gather my notebooks off of the library table.

" Do you want me to take you? " Steve asks, getting up after me.

I shake my head. " It's fine. It's just down the street. You keep studying. Lord knows you need to. Gotta pass that calc test in Jones' class tomorrow. " Truthfully, I just want to get out of this conversation and I'm worried that if Steve gives me a ride it'll just reignite the topic.

" Are you sure? I really don't mind taking you. I can always study at home. "

" I'm fine Steve. Plus, if you try to 'Study' at home, you're not going to get anything done. I know you. "

Steve rolls his eyes. " I love your confidence in me. With your reassuring words I can do anything. "

I let out a small laugh. " Shut up. "

Steve grins.

Fuck he's perfect.

I need to get out of here.

" I'll see ya later Steve. " I wave at him, pulling my bookbag over my shoulder.

" Later, Y/N. Walk safe. Call me in an hour or two so I know you weren't kidnapped or forced to join a circus. " Steve's joking but a part of his expression seems serious. Like he's actually worried about me.

I let out a sigh. " I'll be fine but I'll call you. "

I wish I was the type of person boys would ask out. The type that don't have to do anything for people to crush on them.

But I'm not.

++++++

" Y/N, Steve's here! " My mothers voice calls up to me.

What? Why's Steve here?

Confused, I head downstairs. As soon as I reach the bottom my eyes widen. Steve's still in the doorway, a small box in his hands. His hair is styled perfectly, like always. He's dressed in a fancy suit, something I've only seen him do for fall sport award nights or very special occasions.

" What the...? " I finally get to the bottom of the stairs. " Steve? What's going on? "

" You're going to Prom with me. " Steve holds out the box, his comment more of a statement then a question.

" I don't have an outfit! " I protest, confusion still fogging my mind.

" Just put on whatever you have. Come on, Y/N. It's prom. You need to experience it at least once. Why not with me? "

I feel my stomach begin to churn. Steve's taking me to prom? What fucking dream have I been blessed with?

I chew on my bottom lip. " I'll be back. " I turn to run back up the stairs.

I can't believe I'm going to prom with Steve.

I do my best to get dressed quickly. I manage to find a semi appropriate outfit for the dance and we head out.

" Dinner first. The dance is at 9. " Steve pulls into a familiar diner. It's the diner the whole team eats at after winning a game.

" Oh, you forgot to put on your corsage. " Steve opens the small box, gently taking out a beautiful corsage.

" Oh Steve, you really didn't have to do that. " I stare down at the beautiful flowers. " This is too much. "

Steve shakes his head. " I want you to have a prom to remember. You deserve it. "

I send him a smile. " Thank you. You...you're really the best. "

His smile widens, sending butterflies through my body. He gently puts the corsage onto my wrist. His fingers are cool. They leave tingly sensations on the skin he touches.

For a moment it's silent. I try to find a way to calm my nerves.

He's your friend. Just a friend.

" Actually, Y/N. I also wanted to talk to you about something. " Steve breaks the comfortable silence.

" Yeah? Go for it. " I take a sip of my water, my eyes staying on him.

For the first time he looks nervous. Like he has so much to say but he doesn't know how to.

" Are you okay? " I ask, slightly concerned. He's always so confident. He knows who he is and he's proud of it. It's something I've always admired.

Steve nods, pulling his eyes away from his water cup. " I'm just going to say it. Fuck. " He runs a hand through his hair.

My heart begins to pound faster. What's going on?

" Fuck, I hope this doesn't make things weird. That's the last thing I want. Look, I really like having you as a friend... " He starts.

What the fuck is he going to say? Now I'm nervous. Does he have another girlfriend? Someone who doesn't like him being friends with me?

"-But...fuck, look I like you. " He blurts out, a small blush crawling up his cheeks. " I've liked you for years and I really want to be more than friends. And...I don't know if this makes it weird. If you don't like me, I completely understand. We can just pretend this shit didn't happen and go to prom and never talk about it again. I really don't want to make you uncomfortable-" Steve rambles.

" Steve. " I try to interrupt.

" It's just been something I've struggled with for years and fuck, I don't want to keep it from you. Not when we could potentially be something more. I mean - "

" Steve. " I try a little more forcefully.

Steve's clearly stuck in his head because he doesn't seem to hear me.

"-I just don't want to have any regrets. Especially about you-"

" Fucking hell. Steve Harrington, I need you to shut the fuck up for a second. " I say louder, attracting the attention from an older couple nearby. " Sorry. "

Steve looks at me with wide eyes, clearly not expecting my reaction.

" Let me talk. Please. " I look into his eyes, excitement bubbling in my chest. " I like you to. Fuck, I never thought this would happen. "

Steve breaks into a wide grin. His shoulders relax and he seems less tense. " You do? "

I laugh slightly. " I mean, yeah. You're funny, you're talented, you're nice. You're the whole package. Steve, you're one of the kindest people I know. It's hard not to like you. "

" Oh my...thank god. I was so nervous you weren't going to feel the same. " Steve leans back into the booth seat he's in across from me.

" Me too. "

Today really has to be a dream.

" So...do you want to be my partner? " Steve asks, his gaze holding mine.

I smile. " I'd love to. "

Senior Year - 1984

" I'll see you after class? " Steve grins at me. He pushes away from the lockers he was leaning on.

" Of course. I'll meet you at your car. "

I watch as Steve walks away. He's immediately swallowed up by the crowd.

Thing's have been pretty good. Ever since we started going steady, things have been really nice. Of course, some people in the school don't really approve. It's hard to ignore sometimes but we try. Not everyone agrees that Steve should date someone like me.

It hurts.

But what's important is that we're still together. Despite the shit people say, we're trying.

Sometimes I can see it gets to Steve. He's lost a bit of respect. It's so fucking stupid. I don't understand why people think it's so important for him to date a certain type of person.

Sometimes I feel guilty for us dating. Sometimes his teammates can be dicks. They don't see what he sees in me.

It doesn't matter. As long as we're both happy, that's what's important.

++++++

" Look, we need to talk. "

Those are the first words I hear when I get into Steve's car. His jaw is tight. He avoids looking at me.

" Oh, yeah. What's up? " I ask, confused about what's going on. " Are you alright? You look tense. Did something happen in fifth period? "

" We need to break up. " Steve blurts out. He still avoids my gaze.

My eyes widen. " What? What's going on? Steve, look at me? "

" I'm done, Y/N. I need out of this relationship. "

What the fuck happened? We were fine literally an hour ago. What the fuck is going on?

" Why? Steve, what the fuck are you talking about? "

I feel my heart begin to break at his words.

Steve shakes his head. " I just-look, you're a nice girl, Y/N. But...I can't date you anymore. " His voice waivers slightly.

" Steve, what did I do? " My voice crackles. I feel tears prick at the back of my eyes. " What the fuck happened? "

" We don't look good together, Y/N. "

His excuse is fucking stupid.

" Since when have you cared about what other people think? Why now? "

Steve swallows harshly. " It's different now...I...you...we can't do this. You hear what they say about us, Y/N, don't you? What they say about you? "

Anger begins to bubble inside of me. This is what it's about. " It's me. You're embarrassed of me. " I'm silent for a second, trying not to let the tears come out. " Fuck you, Steve. "

Finally Steve looks up at me, hurt flashing over his face.

" You're an asshole, you know that? Since when have you given a fuck about someone elses' opinion? You're really doing this because of what other people have said? You're just like fucking Tommy, you know that? Like all of the other shallow assholes going to our school. " I open my door. " I hope you're happy. You'll finally get your spot as King of Hawkins back. I wish I'd never met you, Steve. "

" Y/N-" Steve begins, his arm reaching towards me. " I'm sorry- "

" Fuck you. " I slam his door, rushing away from his car. I hear a snicker as I walk past a few of the cars. Tommy and Carol whisper to each other, their harsh gazes glaring holes into my frame.

Steve's always had a bit of a reputation for being a dick to certain people. He's had a bit of a bullying streak. I thought that shit was over. I thought he'd grown out of it, I mean he was never mean to me.

I was wrong.

+++++++

Two days later he started dating Nancy Wheeler and I quit being a manager for the basketball team.

Fuck you Steve Harrington.

[igotyupls]

GYM BRO’s? GYM HOES!

(SNSD Choi Sooyoung x Male reader) rewritten!! WC: 3440 + also if u previously read it then read after the keep reading, from then on ive added and changed the story

Sooyoung stumbled into the brightly lit 24-hour gym at stupid o'clock in the morning, unable to stay still in her apartment . With SNSD’s big summer/late-summer comeback announced, her schedule was absolutely shit lately between vocal training, choreography bootcamp hell, and a new diet that had her craving carbs 24/7. 

Call her crazy, but a good workout sounded way more appealing than yet another hour tossing and turning in bed. 

The location near their dorm was usually blissfully empty at ass o’clock in the morning too - perfect for looking like a disgusting post-workout mess without judgment. She swiped her membership card at the empty front desk, earbuds already queued up with a stupid EDM mix. 

Rounding the corner towards the cardio equipment though, Sooyoung came to an abrupt halt. 

Wait a damn minute...was that...a guy? 

Working out alone in the free weights corner? Well crap, so much for having the place to herself, she thought.

Squinting across the room, she vaguely recognized him - one of their fan-sites maybe? He seemed just as startled to no longer be alone, nearly dropping the dumbbell in his hand with a awkward fumble. 

“Oh shit! Sooyoung-ssi?” His eyes bugged wide, literally about to pop out, “Shit, sorry, I didn’t think anyone else would be here this late...” 

Sooyoung snorted, shifting her gym bag higher on one shoulder. “You and me both, dude.” An awkward silence passed of them just standing there staring. *sigh* no use being a bitch about it, she decided. Gym’s open 24/7 to members, even nosy fanboys. 

Tossing him a casual chin jerk goodbye, she headed towards the treadmills. 

“Well don’t let me mess up your sesh or anything,” she called over one shoulder, queueing up her go-to cardio playlist. Setting her phone on the ledge, Sooyoung hopped up on the belt and started jogging.

The familiar burn soon had her zoning out - eyes fixed on her reflection in the big wall of mirrors, volume cranked enough to drown out any other noise. 

Including the sound of fumbling weights behind her...as the same flustered fanboy now seemed incapable of  looking away from Sooyoung's sweaty reflection. His eyes tracked her bouncing boobs barely contained in the old Nike sports bra, and down to those leggings leaving nothing to imagination with each pounding step. 

((a/n: so for the sake of my sanity we’ll all pretend this is a treadmill and that the fila is a Nike, alright? Good.🫡))

Sooyoung noticed the attention after a few minutes, torn between rolling her eyes or biting back a smug grin. Fan service was part of the job after all - but she also knew damn well what she looked like working out in minimal fabrics. Didn’t mean she enjoyed feeling ogled like a piece of meat, but the ego boost was kinda nice. 

Nearly 45 minutes and 5 miles later however, tiredness sank in as Sooyoung began cooling down to a walk. 

Her leg muscles felt more like limp udon noodles at this point, chest heaving to gulp oxygen. Risking a glance behind her, she noted the fan seemed to be wrapping up his own workout now too - re-racking an impressive set of heavy dumbbells across the open floor space.

Sooyoung slid her feet to a stop on the treadmill, skin sticky with sweat. She bent down to stretch her quads and muscles briefly, back to the weight area. 

When she straightened up from touching her toes, the guy was much closer than expected - openly staring with those wide dark eyes.

"Feeling pretty bold over here aren't we?" Sooyoung arched an eyebrow, unflustered. His mouth snapped shut audibly, face and neck flushing darker.

"S-sorry noona!" he stammered, glancing away and raking a hand through his messy black hair. "I just uh...wanted to say nice workout? You really seem like you know what you're doing..." His awkward compliment trailed off into uncertainty, still avoiding direct eye contact.

Sooyoung couldn't help chuckling internally at just how shy this random fan was at interacting with her one-on-one, especially with so much exposed skin on display. She had to admit she didn't exactly mind the shy flattery. After over a decade pressure-cooking in the entertainment industry, it was actually sort of refreshing.

"I thought maintaining stamina is important for those long music show rehearsal hours," she replied easily, straightening up with a slight groan as her abdomen muscles protest. 

Noticing the guy's eyes follow the flex of her defined abs, she had to hide another smirk. Too easy.

"But clearly you know what you're doing too," Sooyoung continued with a glance at the impressive set of free weights he had been using earlier

"I don't usually see guys your age lifting that heavy without a spotter."

Pink still dusted his sharp cheekbones, but he met her gaze now without the prior dose of awkwardness at the indirect praise. 

Rubbing the back of his neck almost shyly, his lips quirked upwards.

"I try to hit the gym pretty consistently. Can't let you idol types have all the good bodies, you know." Y/N murmurs with a smirk, a smile.. somewhere in between

Was he...flirting back now? Sooyoung thought as she cocked her head, curiosity piqued by this boost of confidence in him, 

She noted that he really was very good looking, with feline eyes and a sharp jawline that complemented the defined muscles under his sweaty workout t-shirt. No wedding ring either she observed.

"Oh really now?" she challenged, arms crossing under her boobs subtly. Enjoying the way his dark, definitely interested gaze automatically tracked and traced her tits, she took a half step closer.

"Maybe you could...give me some tips then?" Batting her lashes innocently, Sooyoung gestured one manicured hand at the bench press station nearby. "My upper body strength is definitely my weakness in dance practice lately." She says, 

Y/N looks momentarily caught off guard by the bold invitation, his adams apple visibly bobbing in a hard swallow. But then he regains his confidence, lips quirking in a smirk again.

"It would be my pleasure to help demonstrate, Sooyoung-ssi” he says with his eyebrows raised and the smirk plastered on

Sooyoung watched with interest as the handsome fan confidently adjusted the bench press bar to a heavy weight for her petite frame. Clearly trying to impress her. Smirking slightly as he patted the black vinyl meaningfully in invitation, she walked closer. Intentionally lingering longer than necessary in his personal space before fluidly getting into position on her back.

The barely there bra did nothing to save her from the cold of the bench against her mostly bare skin. Goosebumps rising, Sooyoung tilted her chin up towards her impromptu trainer hovering near her.

"Well show me what you've got Mr. Gym Rat," she prompted cheekily. 

His appreciative gaze flicked down to where her nipples had peeked almost visibly through the sweat-damp bra barely covering them. 

Clearing his throat, Y/N carefully guided her hands into position holding the loaded barbell now held above only inches from her breast . 

Sooyoung noticed how his fingers lingered, thumbs sweeping the inside of her wrists.

"Right uh, form is pretty important obviously..." Y/N started out slightly unevenly. As he began explaining proper technique, one large hand pressed unnecessarily against her toned stomach - supposedly to demonstrate using her core muscles.

"Make sense?" he asked, unconsciously stroking along her defined abs with his thumb distractedly. 

"Mmhmm..." Sooyong managed, hoping she didn't sound as breathless to his ears as her own thudding pulse. She chalked it up to a normal physiological reaction - an undeniably hot guy was freely running his big hands all over her pretty much naked skin. It had been awhile since she got this type of casual intimacy with her crazy schedule and long-term even busier relationship. 

Noticing her physical response, Y/N's lips curved slyly. He leaned down close, caging her under the heavy bench bar. "Why don't we start with a set, see how you handle it?" The intentionally lowered voice raised involuntary goosebumps on her skin,

Swallowing, Sooyoung tried focusing on proper breathing and form as she guided the weight smoothly down. But with him hovering so intimately close, she became hyper aware of every inch of bare skin exposed to the gym air and his wandering gaze. 

Each brush of his fingers igniting sparks over her nerves. 

Biceps burning from exertion, she carefully guided the barbell back into its holders. Breath coming shorter, she couldn't resist looking sideways up at him through her lashes. 

Heart kicking faster seeing pure lust in his hooded eyes. She should tell him to back off, that she wasn't some groupie to take advantage of. Should remind him she had a whole career, a boyfriend even - a goddamn celebrity boyfriend none the less. But the words died on her lips as his palm smoothed down her stomach again.

"I think you need another set baby..." 

The risky nickname from his mouth sent a new flood of wetness between her clenched thighs. Recklessly she arched up into his arm, just enough to make her stiff nipples touch across his wrist. His low hum is satisfying to her ears.

Maybe she could blame it on the adrenaline crash later she thought, Or the fact that she hasn’t gotten laid properly in weeks thanks to her and Jung Kyung-ho’s overlapping schedules . 

But right now, feeling so desired and drowning in endorphins was exactly what Sooyoung needed after endless brutal days of smiling through every nonsense using her idol-persona as a shield

So here and now, Sooyoung threw caution fully out the window. Grabbing a fistful of her Y/N’s sweaty shirt, she yanked him down insistently, crushing their mouths together. He responded immediately, large hand pulling too-roughly in her messy ponytail to angle her head for better access. 

She bit and pulled at his lower lip sharply. "What's your name anyway?" Sooyoung asked against his mouth, just realising she had no clue who this fan who felt so good pinning her down was,

"Y/N..." he managed, kissing wetly down her throat. Hearing the breathless need filling his voice sent another slob of wetness straight between her legs. 

"Hmm Y/N-yah..." Testing his name on her tongue earned a responding groan. His hands slid boldly up from her shaking stomach to cover her neglected tits, kneading roughly through the thin cloth of her sports bra. White burst behind Sooyoung's shut eyelids, back arching off the vinyl bench. 

"Oh fuck..." she moaned out. The vulgarness is a stark contrast from her idol act coming out unfiltered. 

Y/N’s dark chuckle against her hammering pulse made her inner muscles clench on nothing. 

"That's it baby, tell me what you want," he murmured , thick fingers tweaking her hard nipples for emphasis.  

"Ahh!" Sooyoung whimpered as the sensation went straight to her clit, hands flying down to roughly shove down the band of her leggings and underwear before she peeled her sweaty bra over her head. Tossing it carelessly to show her gorgeous bare tits with stiffen nipples. His pulse racing double time seeing literal fantasy material come to life right in front of him. "Holy fucking shit..."  Y/N mutters,  staring open-jawed,

"Like what you see?" Sooyoung purred, noting his stunned expression. Inching closer she took his shaky hands, guiding them onto her exposed tits. Hot soft skin filled his palms and Y/N groaned at finally living out countless fever dreams.

"Fuck yes... You're even sexier without clothes noona."

He tested their size and weight gently. Watching with wide crazed eyes as she bit her kiss-swollen lower lip on a moan when he thumbed over her nipples teasingly, properly now that her bra is off.

"Been wanting to get my hands on these perfect tits for years..." he rasped before ducking down to capture one of the brown peaks in his mouth.

"Oh god!" Sooyoung's shocked cry as he lavished attention on her breasts with lips, tongue and a hint of teeth. He smirked around a mouthful of her boobs.

"Sensitive here huh?" Tweaking her spit-slick nipple sharply in emphasis.

"Yes! Fuck..." Grinding against his thigh slotted between hers searchingly, Sooyoung fisted a hand almost too-tight in his hair. Urging him to give equal attention to her other needy tit.

The power rush left Y/N lightheaded. Never in a million years did he imagine his long-time celebrity crush would be practically humping his leg whining for more. He needed to be inside her like five minutes ago.

With urgency he flipped Sooyoung, bending her over the bench. Groaning reverently at the sight of her flawless bare ass and soaked panties.

"Fuck you have no idea how many times I've jerked off imagining this perfect ass up in the air for me." He emphasised the filthy words with a sharp open-palmed spank to one plump asscheek. Her answering moan urged him on. Gripping her slim hips bruisingly tight, he dragged his still covered dick along her slit.

"Please Y/N-aah... Want to feel you inside..." Hearing Korea's darling beg so prettily to be fucked sent Y/N into overdrive. With shaking hands he shoved down his boxers, dick springing free and almost smacking her ass. Groaning at the first glide of his angry red dick through slick soaked folds.

"Tell me how bad you need this cock baby..."  He asks as he teases them both - rubbing his swollen purple head along  her pussy but refusing to enter. 

Sooyoung whined, circling her hips urgently. "Please, feel so empty... Fuck me oppa!"

That was all the permission he needed. Tightening his hold on her hips,, Y/N thrust forward - plunging into her  incredibly tight velvet heat in one relentless slide. Balls slapping harshly against her clit. 

"Holy shit!" They both choked out. Frozen for a second, from just pure bliss

Then Y/N was fucking into her hard and fast - years of suppressed longing fueling his brutal pace. The lewd slick sound of their smacking flesh filled the empty gym. Her sharp cries urged him deeper.

Draped over her arched back, he slid a hand down her shaky stomach. Through the neat patch of pubes to circle her clit in firm strokes.

"Don't stop, please...I'm so fucking close!" Sooyoung whined, sharply circling her hips with his still imperceptibly swelling dick nestled deep inside her. Y/N starts fingering her clit in fast strokes, wanting to push her over the edge,

"Be a good girl and cum on oppa's cock," he rasped directly into her ear. Licking along the line of her throat when she tossed her head back, mewling.

"Oh god, fuck yes I'm cumming!" Sooyoung wailed, vision white as she orgasms hard - cunt spamming erratically around him. Milking every last drop of cum from his buried dick as she shook through endless waves of dizzying twitches.

Y/N fucked her slowly through the intense aftershocks until her limbs went limp, slumping forward. Soft puffs of breath hitting the bench under her flushed cheek. Holy hell she looked completely fucked out like this - hair, a wild mess, his release leaking steadily from her well used pussy.

Unable to resist, he carefully pulled out his sensitive dick free with a wet sound and her whimper, making him groan again as even more juices dripped freely down her soppy cunt in globs now coating her thighs. Gripping her ass cheeks, he spread them eagerly - her slick puffy folds still shaking, twitching.

Ducking down without hesitation, Y/N licked broadly up the entire crease. Tasting the salty-bitterness of her orgasm mixed with his semen.

"Ohhh fuck..." Sooyoung jerked, overstimulated nerves clearly on fire. But he just hummed directly against her, the vibrations making her squirm as he straightened his tongue. Spearing deep into her pussy to taste everything,

He gripped her hips again to hold her trembling body still, continuing to spear his tongue relentlessly into Sooyoung's oversensitive canal "Oh god, oh fuck!" Sooyoung whimpered and gasped as the intense sensations crashed over her overloaded nerves. The lewd, slick sounds of his sucking filling the empty gym.

Just when her thighs started really shaking from the stimulation, he finally let up. Pulling back to admire his handiwork once more with a satisfied groan.

But he isnt done with his bias yet,, he pressed two thick fingers back inside her velvet heat. Smirking when she jerked and whined at that light penetration.

"Mmm , you'll take a little more for your fan ,right?" He purred slyly even as she shuddered through another weak orgasm.

Not giving her a chance to recover, he quickly lined himself back up. Nudging just barely inside once more.

Sooyoung blinked sluggishly up at him, lips parted and slick with spit, eyes filled with tears even. "Ohhh f-fuck I can't..." Sooyoung whined, still shaking through the aftershocks. But despite her pleas she eagerly pushed her ass back for more of Y/N's thrusting fingers.

"Mmm yes you will," he growled. "Gonna make you cum all night..."

The lewd sound of his fingers pumping her soaked pussy echoed around the empty gym. Her broken whimpers urging him on.

"Oppa wants that sloppy cunt nice and wet before you take this dick again."

Adding a third finger, he twisted them until she bucked sharply - abusing her g-spot mercilessly. "Oh shit! Oh shit don't stop..." Sooyoung babbled, rocking her hips desperately to get those thick fingers deeper.

Y/N chuckled darkly at how needy she was for it already. His free hand cracked down hard on one jiggling ass cheek, making her yelp.

"Fuck yourself on oppa's fingers just like that. Let me see you cum again."

Arching sharply, Sooyoung braced her hands properly - shamelessly riding his thrusting fingers now. The lewd sound of her soaked pussy sucking them in greedily echoed with her pitched cries.

Right on the edge, Y/N suddenly ripped his hands away - ignoring her scream. Gripping her hips tight enough to bruise, he rammed balls-deep into her still-spasming cunt. Bottoming out so deep she saw stars.

"OH FUCK yesyesyes!" Sooyoung babbled mindlessly.

Y/N set a brutal pace instantly - their slick bodies slapping together loudly. Obscene squelching noises coming from where their juices dripped down her trembling inner thighs.

"Yeah? Oppa's cock feels good pounding this tight pussy?" He rasped filthily against her ear. Her constant and almost musical 'ah-ah-ah's with every deep thrust said it all.

Flipping her easily onto her back not the nth time, Y/N hooked one slim leg over his shoulder - driving himself impossibly deeper. Loud smack of balls against her ass echoing.

Sooyoung's next orgasm crashed through her violently - back bowing off the bench as she wailed his name. Cunt spasming erratically, trying to milk his cock.

Not nearly done with her, Y/N manhandled her limp body into his lap , as he sat down on the gym’s vinyl flooring next - spearing up into her dripping hole once more. Sharp cries ringing out as he bounced her roughly on his dick by the hips.

"Yes yes fuck! Shit I can't..." Sooyoung babbled, still cum drunk and now full on crying. But her petite yet tall  body continued riding him eagerly. Tits jiggling wildly with the force of it.

Reaching around, Y/N's thick fingers found her throbbing clit again. Rubbing messy circles as she squeezed almost painfully a fourth time. Her rhythmic contractions pushed him closer to the edge too.

But he still wasn't done using her gorgeous body yet.

Pulling out abruptly mid-orgasm, he smirked at her wrecked wail. Manhandling her to knees, he fisted himself rapidly - aimed right at her sweat-slick back curved so beautifully before him.

"Look so fucking good on your knees noona... Now tell oppa what you need," he gritted out, squeezing the life out of his own dick,

Whining and grinding her ass back desperately, Sooyoung glanced over one shoulder. Eyes glazed and burned into his.

"P-please...want you to cum all over me oppa," she begged prettily, pink tongue swiping across her swollen bottom lip. "Mark me as yours..."

"Fuck!" Y/N roared, fist flying rapidly over his slick dick. Her nasty plea instantly triggered his release. He painted her back and ass cheeks in endless ropes of white hot semen - marking SNSD's lead dancer Sooyoung as claimed, way more claimed then her man could ever mark her.

Chests heaving, he eventually tugged her fucked-out body upright against him. She mewled weakly feeling their mixed cum and her juices now dripping freely out of her loose fucked out vagina and down her thighs and his.

"Let's get you cleaned up hm?"

Scooping her up easily, Y/N carried his pliant bias towards the locker room showers....... [A/N: lol pt2 coming out soon , i might finally surpass 5 if not 7k words, it'll be a personal milestone, took down the previous one cause i noticed typos and added bs, i didnt spellcheck it or even read through it prior to posting like an idiot, anyway req: @snsdyb]

[hees-mine]

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟐 𝐛𝐨𝐱𝐞𝐫! - 𝐋.𝐡𝐬

𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠 ⚥ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: smut, unprotected sex, angst kinda? cursing.

"Baby, let's go. You've been here for hours," you say to your boyfriend, who's busy hitting the punching bag like his life depended on it. Your words fall on deaf ears as he continues training like the gym wouldn't be open tomorrow. "Babe!" You shout, and he finally whips his head around at the sound of your booming voice echoing in the gym.

"Hmm?" He holds the bag, still looking at you with wide eyes as you shake your head.

"I said let's go." you walk closer to him as he does a few light jabs at the bag.

"It's okay, baby, you can leave first. I'll meet you home in a few." you roll your eyes as he practically ignores you. He asked you to come and watch him so he could show you his new moves, and that was fine until you were there watching him for the next two hours after you had already been watching him for two hours prior.

You were hungry and tired from working out with him, and you just wanted your boyfriend's attention cause he's been caught up in the stupid gym for the last couple of months, leaving you to sit at the house and wait for him to get back. "Fine," you mumbled and popped your mouth while grabbing your gym bag and getting ready to leave.

He eyes your dejected figure as you start to leave without giving him his kiss or even saying bye. "Baby?" He calls you softly but you just keep walking. Whatever he wanted to say, it could wait till he got home. "Darling, wait," he sighs and takes off his gloves, lightly jogging over to you. "Hey," he places his hands on your waist, turning you to face him. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing." you shake his hand off, trying to walk away again.

"Something's wrong cause you didn't kiss me before you left," he pouts.

"Maybe I just don't want to kiss you." you fold your arms, trying your best to look angry and annoyed.

Before his heart dropped from your words, he quickly realized that you were just being moody again cause he was staying late at the gym. "I know that's a lie. You always wanna kiss me, baby, come here and give me some sugar." he drags you into his chest, pressing his lips on yours, and you feel so pathetic cause you were already melting into his touch when you were supposed to be mad at him for choosing the gym over you.

"Eww, unhand me. You're all wet and sweaty." he chuckled deeply and strengthened his hold on your waist so you couldn't run away.

"Stop playing games with me, darling. I know you like it when I'm all sweaty." he locks his arms behind your lower back, leaving you no choice but to fall into his sweat-covered chest as he leans down to whisper in your ear. "You like it when I get wet." You shudder in his hold, trying your best to hold in a whimper from his words, but you fail. You just pray he didn't hear it, but your prayers go unheard when you hear him laughing heartily and releasing his grip on you.

"Hee!" You slap his chest. "That's was not funny," you whine. "I want to leave the stupid gym."

He gasps, feigning offense for you down-talking his gym. "My gym is not stupid." he folds his arms.

"Yes, it is, and it's also keeping you away from me, so let's just go already." You grip his bicep, trying to pull him out of the gym, but he stays still.

"So that's what it is, hmm?" He smiles. "You don't think the gym is stupid. You just don't like me spending my time here."

"Hee, I don't mind you being here. It's just so often, and when I'm at home, I miss you," you mumble the last part, feeling kinda embarrassed to bring up the topic.

"Oh baby, I'm sorry. I know I get carried away sometimes." he rolls his eyes at himself. "More like I get carried away all the time," he pouts now that he's seeing things from your perspective. The whole reason he asked you to come to the gym with him was because he was missing you, but instead of staying at home and spending the day with you, he dragged you to satisfy his wants, not yours. "You know what? Let's go home, and I'll take you out for a date."

You can already feel yourself smiling. One thing you loved so much about him was how thoughtful he was. Sure, he didn't realize that he was leaving you home alone and missing his presence, but as you told him, he wanted to fix the small issue at hand.

"How does that sound, darling?" He rests his forehead on yours, smiling softly. "You forgive me?"

"Of course, hee." You go up on your toes to give him a quick kiss or what you thought was going to be quick until he hungrily latched his mouth onto yours and easily lifted you off the floor.

He groans on your lips, tongue sticking out, begging to go inside your mouth, and you moan at his eagerness, mouth automatically falling open and letting him inside.

He squeezes your hips after you wrap your legs around his waist. You tangle your hands in his hair, and he backs you up to the nearest wall, placing one of his hands beside your head as he explores your mouth and sticks his hand under your sports bra, fondling your breast.

Clinging onto him, you melt against his mouth, whimpering nonstop into the kiss as he pulls away, leaving you both breathless. "You must have really missed me."

"So bad, hee," you say, and he chuckles softly as he moves over to one of the empty gym mats, laying you down softly and taking his place between your legs.

"I miss you so bad, too."

"What are-"

"Shh baby, Shh," he kisses down your jaw, nipping at your exposed chest. "No one ever comes at this time," he reassured you, quickly leaning up to yank his tank top off, revealing every last inch of his reddish-hued chest.

You nod to yourself, driven by arousal. As you lean up, he slips his fingers inside the elastic band of your sports bra and lifts it over your head. He licks his lips, watching your tits jiggle the moment your back makes contact with the gym mat.

He swirls your nipple with his slippery hot tongue tracing over the perked-up nub.

"Heeseung," you moan, nothing but pure excitement flowing through your veins while he gives your other nipple the same amount of pleasure.

After a few minutes of toying with your nipples, he stands up, getting rid of his shorts and boxers, and even though you saw him naked more than a hundred times, the sight of his hard pulsating cock would never cease to amaze you.

Following suit, you strip off your workout shorts as he eagerly climbs over you, lining his dick up with your entrance. He pushes your knees to your chest tip, brushing over your wet hole until he lunges forward, burying himself completely in your tightness and warmth. "Fuckkkkk," he moans, eyes rolling back in his head as he savors the feeling of your wet cunt. Even though you both did it this morning, he still just couldn't get enough of you, and apparently, neither could you cause you took him inside with ease from how wet you were.

"Hee," you moan, taking his whole length as he bottoms out. You place your hands on the backs of your thighs, spreading yourself open and giving him space to press his chest against yours as he stroked deeply in your pussy.

"Can't get enough of you," he laughs into your hair pants, following soon after as he buries his face next to you. "Always so wet and tight for me," he nibbles on your ear, sighing in pleasure.

Your head falls back, arms going limp while you close your eyes, getting lost in his soft moans and deep grunts. "Mhhm hee, you're so d-deep." You feel as if the room is spinning when you feel him going balls deep with every stroke.

"mmmm, kiss me, baby," he whispers, and you catch a faint glance at his face. He looks so fucked out and exhausted. His upper chest was flushed pink, and there were endless beads of sweat dripping from the tips of his hair onto your body, but you didn't mind cause, like he said, you liked it when he was wet.

Smiling against his lips, you meet him halfway, kissing him fervently like you hadn't made out in bed with him all morning long.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he cradled you impossibly close to his chest, and every time he moved his waist, he was massaging your clit, getting you closer and closer to the point of no return.

"I'm so close, darling, so close," he mutters, looking down at you with blown pupils and nothing but adoration in his eyes.

You're so lost in his eyes that you can't even warn him of your impending high, but he's been with you enough times to tell the very first tight clench around his base is just the beginning of the nerve-racking bliss you were both about to feel. "Let it all out, darling." he stroked the side of your cheek with his thumb.

"Hee," your eyes roll back, and just the look of your pleasured face alone made him spill the first drop of cum in your tight clenching walls.

"Darling," the pet name hangs in the air as he cums deep inside you, your walls squeezing out every drop of his cum until he's completely emptied out inside, and you're both satisfied.

Heavy breaths fill up the gym, followed by elated giggles as he peppers you with kisses. "God, I love you so much," he says cutely.

"I love you too, hee," he smiles, laying back on top of you, completely worn out from boxing and now his steamy session with you.

"I'm so tired," he mumbled into your chest.

"let's go home and shower, then we can sleep," he makes sounds of disapproval right away.

Shaking his head back and forth. "Nope, nope, nope, it's far too early, and I gotta take my pretty girl on a date." he holds your hand up to his mouth to kiss the back of it softly, making you feel butterflies like it was your first time with him all over again. "But can we please take a shower in the gym?"

"Why?" He shifts his eyes suspiciously, staying silent for a few moments.

"Cause it'll be easier to clean up after round two," he winks at you before you can say anything. He's picking you up, and you're slapping his chest while giggling.

Looks like you're both having round two in the shower then, but you weren't surprised cause your boyfriend was never done after one round in the ring or in the bedroom.

Thanks for reading please reblog and leave feedback.

[fastboatsmojito]

Inspired by this req !

Hot and Heavy - Gym Nerd! Scott Miller x Reader

| A/N; title based on the song by Lucy Dacus but the song itself is irrelevant to the plot lmao also pls don’t chew gum while you work out this is just Fiction <3

| CW; mostly just some good old bickering in a non-angsty way, Scott being Scott + the tiniest soft spot for you, I think that’s it 💆🏻‍♂️ I was going to make this smutty but it didn’t feel right and I didn’t want to force it so !

He was always there by the time you arrived, already sweaty and intense as you walked in.

“Jesus, Scott. You ever sleep?” You scoffed, setting your bag down and stretching your arms.

“Eight hours.” He barely looked up to talk to you, focused on the weights in front of him.

Of course. He was unintentionally irritating, the crisp, clean compression shirt he sported making the size of him just that much more unavoidable. You weren’t competing with him - you couldn’t if you wanted to, but he wasn’t a bad ‘gym buddy’, disregarding his grumpy attitude and refusal to actually call you that.

He never overstepped, he was quiet but reliable, giving you space and unenthusiastically spotting you whenever you asked.

You held your hand out towards him as he walked over and grabbed his bag, rolling his eyes at you before taking out a piece of gum.

“You get one. If you swallow it again that’s on you.” He said, the piece of gum still in his hand pointing at you as he spoke.

“Already cranky, I see.” You snatched the gum out of his hand, grinning at his less than pleased expression.

——

After a while you got a little overzealous with some weights, voice coming out shaky when you realized it was too much for you to lift all the way. “Shit- um, Scott?”

“What?” He didn’t look up at you when he replied. He didn’t usually have to, used to you asking him whatever questions popped up in your head during your workout, gym related or not.

“Can you come grab this for me?” He looked up then, disregarding his strict routine to jog over to you.

“Yeah. Fuck, why’d you add all this shit? You know that’s too much, right?” He lifted it back up for you, as soon as he was in front of you with his hands on his hips you knew you were in for one of his infamous lectures.

“I know now. I thought I could handle it-“ You tried to explain yourself, clearly falling short when he shook his head.

“Don’t be stupid. I won’t be able to workout if I’m too busy worrying about you breaking your neck. If you need help, just ask-“ He reprimanded, putting his hand up to stop you from interrupting him.

“Before it’s too much. That’s the only reason we’re here at the same time.” He always looked like someone’s dad when he got like this, aggressively chewing his gum with a disapproving look on his face.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re right, I’ll ask for help next time.” You muttered before standing up, motioning to walk off before he stopped you.

“Before-“ He moved to stand in front of you like some angry bouncer, waiting on you to finish his sentence.

“Before it’s too much. I know. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, be smart.” That’s what he always said, you always apologized anyway.

——

You were done after that, uncomfortably dripping sweat from basically every part of your body, walking over to grab your water bottle as you met Scott on the bench. You sat down as he intently watched you trying to massage your leg.

“You hurt your leg, or what?”

“Just a cramp.” You sighed, laying down on the bench instead.

“Come here.” You propped yourself up on your elbows after he said it, confused expression on your face like he just said something insane.

“Don’t look at me like that. Just come here.” He motions for you to move closer to him with his hand, grabbing your leg and placing it in his lap when you were close enough. As soon as his hand moved to your leg you tensed up, unsure of what exactly what you were expecting but surprised nonetheless.

“What’s your problem? Christ just let me massage it out for you, don’t be a brat.” He complained, hands massaging over one of your legs when you relaxed.

“I’m not being a brat, you’re just not exactly the affectionate type.” You winced as he was particularly rougher right where it hurt.

“This isn’t affection, this is you not getting enough calcium and overworking yourself. That’s not on me.” He continued, moving to the other leg when he was pleased with your satiated breathing.

“You know I do this on purpose, right? I choose to do this, even if I’m a dick about it sometimes. I just want you to do it correctly, not get yourself hurt.”

“You’re a dick about it most of the time.” You corrected, sure you heard a light laugh out of him.

“But yeah, I know. Softy.” He rolled his eyes at the unusual nickname, tapping your leg to move it before he stood up.

“Hit the showers, you’re all sweaty.” He cracked his knuckles as he said it before walking away, ignoring your final remark.

“There he is.”

——

[peterman-spideyparker]

Half-Wrong (College!Matt Murdock x college!fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Howdy folks, ya girl somehow caught Covid during the worst week possible! I have a 102 fever and I don't really remember writing this cuz I've been taking a lot of naps, so if it doesn't make sense and has errors I'm sorry. I saw that Owen Sleater gifset (iykyk) and rolled with it. Enjoy :)

Summary: You have been attracted to Matt Murdock ever since the pair of you met at the coffee shop on campus on move-in day, but you knew he'd never feel the same way about you - this became especially true once you got insight on his romantic life. So when you find him waiting for you after you come back from a date, you take a chance.

Warnings: Sweet platonic fluff, close friendship vibes, kissing, smut (oral - f!receiving, sexy oral m!condom put on, protected sex, p in v sex), swearing

Other Characters: Foggy Nelson, ofc (Cassie)

Word Count: 2,844

“C’mon, just a little more,” you huff as you move your run to a jog on the sidewalk. “A little bit more, and then we’ll be back at the dorms.”

“I don’t get why you think this is the best way to exercise,” Matt huffs as he puts his hands up in a T shape.

“You like boxing, I like a good run. Potato, potahto. The thing you should be thinking about is why you repeatedly agree and continue to go on runs with me,” you pant as you untie the tether that you use while you run—with Matt being unable to see and just how hard you imagine running with a cane would be, a tether to your waist to guide him and gently keep him out of the path of obstacles seemed like a good option.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve figured that part out yet, either. I mean, you do agree to box with me which is nice. But I think I just like spending time with you. Although, being tied with you does kind of make me feel like a dog.”

“Ah, but you’re such a kind, pretty dog with soft hair,” you smirk, ruffling his sweaty hair. “Such a good boy.”

“Alright, alright,” he chuckles, his cheeks flushing beyond the rosiness from the run. “Help me get to the cafe in the student union and I’ll buy us some waters.”

You press a kiss to his warm cheek and place his hand on your forearm. 

“Hey, are you still gonna join Foggy and I at Josie’s tonight?” he asks, his breathing sounding like it’s starting to return to normal as you both enter the nearby building.

“I thought that was tomorrow?” you return, navigating the pair of you through a small little self-serve concession area.

“No, tonight. You have plans?”

“Don’t sound too shocked.”

“I don’t mean it like that.”

“Okay. Then how did you mean it?”

“Well, just that you haven’t had plans in almost a year,” he exaggerates as he takes the waters you hand him.

“Excuse me, I have plans,” you say as you take the waters back and scan them, Matt rooting around in his shorts for his student ID.

“No, you have plans with your other friends semi-regularly. You never have date plans,” he clarifies as he swipes his ID to pay.

“I’m sorry all of us can’t be you with a new companion every few weeks.”

“I don’t have a ‘new companion’ every few weeks.”

“Oh, come on, Matt, don’t deny it,” you say as you drink your water. “Right now, it’s that girl from that IP law class, before that it was a dental student, then I think an international relations major? But let’s not forget about contract law girl, estate planning—.”

“Okay, fine, I’ve had a lot of short-term relationships.”

“Well, that’s great for you, but that’s not what I’m looking for,” you tell him. “I mean, I don’t expect anything right now to last forever, but, I don’t want it to be a four-week thing and then be done with it. If I’m gonna make plans with someone, it’s because I think I still might be making plans with them in five months.”

Matt nods and drinks some of his own water as you move back outside and in the direction of our dorms. “So, what’s this guy like? Where’d you meet?”

“Cassie actually set us up,” you say. “She said that he seemed like my type, like a really good guy.”

“Well, then, I’m happy you have plans tonight. I hope it goes well.”

“Thanks, Matt. I do, too. I mean, I have no reason to think they won’t. Just tell Foggy I’m sorry I’m gonna miss him tonight.”

“Of course.”

“Do I see a wild (Y/N) in one of her natural habitats?” you hear Foggy call from across the quad.

“Speak of the Nelson, and he shall appear!” you smile as he comes to wrap you in a hug. 

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“(Y/N) has a date tonight,” Matt says with a devilish grin.

“Matthew!” you say, giving him a swift whack. “This is exactly why I don’t tell you things.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’m happy for you, really.”

“I am, too!” Foggy chimes in. “I’m bummed that it means you’ll miss drinks at Josie’s, but, it’s about time you get dicked down.”

“I need to hang out with more friends that are girls,” you sigh, taking a look at your watch. “I gotta go now if I want to take an everything shower.” Kissing each of their cheeks, you wave goodbye and run off to your dorm to get ready.

“I just don’t see it going anywhere,” you sigh as you enter the main lobby of your dorm building.

“Really?” Cassie asks over the phone.

“We work on paper, but there wasn’t any spark.”

“Maybe the spark is gonna take some time.”

“A spark shouldn’t take time, Cass. It should be right there I didn’t feel anything.”

“You can’t pin every guy against Matt, you know.”

“I’m not comparing everyone against Matt,” you scoff incredulously. 

“Yes, you are. Ever since you met. I bet you felt a spark with him.”

“So what if I did? It’s clear he didn’t with me, but . . .” You sigh and shake the thought out of your head. “I’m not an option for him. He’s a good person, but more importantly, he’s my friend. I’m not gonna spend my time fantasizing about something that’s never gonna happen.”

“HA.”

“You are so mean.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just a funny concept—you, not fantasizing.”

“Rude.”

“I’m your oldest friend, it’s my job.”

“I appreciate it. Listen, I just got to my door, I’m gonna call it a night.”

“Okay, (Y/N). Sleep well.”

“You too.”

Hanging up, you sigh as you put your phone back into your bag, hiking the strap up over your shoulder, slipping out your keys and undoing the old locks. You toss your purse on the nearby table, but freeze in your tracks when you see someone sitting on your bed. Not any someone. Matt.

“You shouldn’t be in here this late,” you breathe.

“I shouldn’t be in here at all,” he says softly, folding his glasses and putting them on your nightstand. “But why do something half-wrong?”

You slowly start to close the gap between where he sits and where you stand. “Matt . . .”

“If you want me to go, I will. Just say the word.”

“. . . Why now?”

“I don’t know. I just . . . I realized tonight when I was at Josie’s with Foggy that if you’re going to be kissing anyone, I want it to be me.”

You don’t care what you just told Cassie. Honestly, you don’t care about anything or how this could complicate your friendship or any of the consequences. Instead, you move to your bed, climb into his lap, and kiss him. That spark you first felt with Matt when you met is a full-blown lightning bolt now, every last bit of you tingling with electricity; you know Matt feels it too from the way his hands slide up your back and how his fingers card through your hair. Matt leans back on the mattress, letting you take the lead as you make out. His kisses gradually grow more aggressive—the clashing of teeth, nipping, squeezing, and grinding. Matt rolls your bodies over on the bed, eagerly but carefully pulling off your shirt.

“Please tell me you were anticipating this and have condoms on you,” you pant as he peppers kisses all over your torso.

“Mmm,” he hums into my body. Oh my God, I think I just came. “Four.”

“We’re using all of them.” You feel how his lips curl into a smile against your body, making you writhe before you scream out when he starts to suck on the sweet spot on your neck.

“Ambitious,” he hums, licking and kissing at the stinging spot on my neck.

“Oh, well, you know me,” you grunt, your fingertips scratching his scalp. “I love to go above and beyond.”

“Let’s shoot for two,” he says into your collarbone.

“Don’t think I can handle using them all?”

He lifts his face up to be level with yours. “I’m saying that you won’t be walking straight after one. If we use more than two, I’ll be carrying you around campus for a week.”

“Sound like a challenge.”

“It’s a guarantee.”

You both smile brightly before you kiss, and you bunch up the cotton of his shirt exposing his soft skin and toned muscles something out of a romance novel.

“Like what you see?” he smirks.

“You’re too cocky for your own good,” you sigh as you run a hand down his exposed body. “But as a matter of fact, I really, really do.”

“Well, if you’re thinking of doing what I think you are, angel . . . Tonight is about you, and treating you right. How I should’ve treated you a long time ago.” He leans down and kisses your lips before moving the embraces along your cheek to just below your ear. “Sit back and relax, sweetheart. I’m gonna take good care of you.”

You sigh as he presses kisses down your chest, nipping at your cleavage and soothing the sting of any bite with his lips. You pant in excitement under his touch as his hands wrap around my back, unclasping your bra and sliding it painfully slow off of your body. You let out a sigh and toss your head to the side as his lips wrap around your nipple, one of his hands on your free breast while the other hand holds onto yours. Matt takes his time as if he’s trying to map out your body in his mind with his lips. Gazing down, you catch a glimpse of how happy Matt looks as he drags his lips further down your torso, pressing a long kiss on your belly button before unbuttoning your pants to shimmy them off your legs. Tossing them to the floor, he kisses all the way up your legs before spreading them apart to nestle his face against your covered core. You whine at his careful and deliberate movements, lifting your hips to help him slide the fabric off. Matt’s fingers gently spread you open, exposing yourself completely to him.

“Oh, fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he breathes. “So perfect for me.”

Carefully, he lets out a soft breath on your pussy before leaning forward and wrapping his lips around your clit.

“Oh!” you cry out. “Fuck . . .”

Your toes curl as Matt works his magic, and your eyes flutter shut as you let your mind get caught up in all the things that Matt is making you feel. If you had known he could make you feel like this—if you knew he even felt an inkling of the same way toward your, you would’ve done something to let him know that you care about him more more than a friend.

“Matty,” you breathe, running your fingers through his hair. “Oh, Matt, just like that. So good.”

You watch as Matt tries to lift his gaze upward to meet yours, his beautiful hazel eyes sparkling with delight as he eats you out. You swallow hard, throwing your head back as you feel your orgasm quickly approach. You cry out when you feel him slide two fingers into you, curling them just right to throw you over the edge. Your body arches off of the mattress as you cry out, your thighs clenching around his head. Matt’s tongue cleans up every last drop of your arousal before kissing all the way back up your body.

“You taste so good, angel,” he murmurs into your lips. “You ready for me?”

“Please,” you breathe, kissing him deeply. “I need you.”

He grins, kissing you again before leaning back and undoing his pants, shimmying them down enough to free his cock from the fabric before he reaches in his pocket to grab a condom. He is absolutely huge—delightfully so, and I feel the space between my legs instantly flood at the sight of him. Now what he said about not walking straight makes total sense, and not Matt just being cocky.

“All the way off,” you demand with a smile.

“Your wish is my command, sweetheart.”

You bite your lip in excitement as he gets completely naked while you tear open the little foil package.

“C’mere,” you grin as you drink him in as he kneels on your bed, completely and utterly bare.

Matt licks his lips, doing as you ask, folding his arms behind his head. Fuck, he has to know what he’s doing when he rests like that. Carefully, you crawl over to him, putting the tip of the condom in your mouth before you wrap your hand around his base and bring your head down his length. Your jaw hurts as you go down his thick cock, but you manage to get it all the way down. When you get back up, you see how lust-blown Matt’s expression is, how flushed his cheeks and chest are.

“That was so fucking hot,” he hums. “Get over here, angel.”

With a smile, you move to meet him in a kiss, a new passion in the embrace that hand’t been there before.

“You ready for me?” he breathes.

“Yeah,” you nod eagerly as you dip down for a kiss.

With firm hands on your hips, he guides you down on his cock. You moan in harmony as he gets deeper and deeper in you, and it feels like you’re going to get split in two the further he goes. When you’re all the way down, he pulls you in for a deep kiss.

“Are you okay?” he breathes when your lips part.

“I’m okay,” you assure him. “You’re big."

“And you’re tight,” he smirks. “You good for me to move?”

“Oh, fuck, please.”

“Such good manners.”

With another kiss and a smile, Matt wraps his arms around you so your back is on the mattress and he’s hovering above you. You feel the sweet sting from the drag of his cock as he pulls out before pushing back in, testing and stretching you slowly as he starts to establish a rhythm. Your lips part as you feel more pleasure with each of Matt’s thrusts, one of your hands moving to his bicep and creating little crescent moons in his soft skin as he moves faster and faster.

“Right there,” you breathe. “Shit . . . Matt, yes, right there.”

“Good girl,” he hums. “So good taking my cock like that.”

“K-Kiss me,” you stutter, feeling your second orgasm approaching.

Looking at you tenderly, he leans down and kisses you long and slow, staying lower to keep little space between our bodies.

“You’re perfect,” he breathes, kissing your cheek. “So perfect.”

“Matt, ‘m close,” you whimper.

“Whenever you’re ready.” His hand cradles the side of your face, kissing you once more.

You bite your lip, stifling your moan as you come around Matt, your body clinging to his as he continues to move his hips, his skin flushing as he grunts, approaching his own release, spilling into the condom. He kisses you all over as your breathing steadies, pulling out and tossing the condom into the trash before wrapping you in his arms and kissing your wherever his lips can find skin.

“Matt,” you chuckle softly as he sucks marks into your collarbone.

“Shh,” he hums, kissing the marks to soothe them.

“Matt, it tickles!”

You feel his lips curl into a smile as he presses kisses up your neck. “I’ve always loved your laugh. This is just another way I can hear it.”

“And it’s another way I can see your smile.” You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “You know, I bet if you give me enough time in between, we can use up all the condoms.”

“You think?”

“Nothing saying we can’t try.”

“Ambitious girl,” he smiles.

“It’s part of my charm. Why you like me. Why we work well together.”

“One of the reasons, yeah. There’s plenty of others, though.”

“Oh?”

“Mm.” He kisses your forehead. “I’ve got a whole list.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

You giggle at the silence and look at him. “Are you gonna tell me any?”

Matt’s fingers trace aimless patterns on your skin. “I think you already know them, angel. But I’ll tell you one every day. Today, it’s your ambition. Tomorrow . . .” He lets out a breath. “It’ll be whatever feels right for me to point out.”

“Well, I’ve got a list, too. And right at the top is how safe you make me feel. How special you make me feel. How loved." You kiss his chest. "Tomorrow’s something might have to do with your nose.”

Matt’s expression is filled with tenderness, closing the gap between you once more, holding onto you and letting you rest right above his heart.

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Matt Murdock Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters

[astrxq]

a new morning routine

ethan landry x fem!reader

words: 4.6k

notes: this took me sooo long to write and i don't even know if i like it, but finally an ethan fic!! who cheered? :)

Ethan knew that Chad jogged every morning when the sun was barely out. Chad was a very loud roommate, and Ethan had become all too familiar with his daily routine. It began with the blaring of Chad's alarm at the crack of dawn, a noise that could wake the dead.

Ethan would groan and bury his head under the pillow, futilely attempting to block out the sound. But it didn't stop there. As if the alarm wasn’t enough, Chad would often sing softly to himself as he tied his running shoes and stretched on the porch, a tune that Ethan couldn't help but find annoying at such an ungodly hour. The creaking of the front door followed as Chad made his way out, trying not to wake Ethan and failing miserably.

Ethan grew curious to know who Chad ran with. He knew he didn't go by himself; he'd heard Chad talk to someone before closing the door and going on with his routine many times.

One morning, Ethan was awoken by Chad's coughing fit rather than his annoyingly loud alarm. Chad's raspy coughs echoed through the apartment, and Ethan sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes and listening intently as he tiredly made his way to the small living room, where he saw Chad sitting on the couch, clutching a tissue in one hand and a cup of tea in the other.

"Are you okay?"

Chad looked up, his face pale and sweaty. "Yeah, just a little under the weather," he replied, his voice hoarse. "I think I caught a cold.” Ethan fetched a blanket from the closet and draped it over Chad's shoulders as he plopped down on the couch. "You really shouldn't be going for a run like this,"

Ethan would be lying if he said he wasn't jealous of Chad, the boy who had been near death twice and survived. Chad refused to move from his bed weeks after being healed from the stab wounds, thinking he would not be able to return to his older, much less butchered, body. He’d watched Chad get carried away by an ambulance, breaths away from death, just a few months before.

During one of their many one-nighters together, Chad confessed that he envied Ethan’s body, with no scars and a much more healthy disposition. And Ethan secretly shared the thought, Chad's resilience and determination to continue jogging even after everything he'd been through.

And still, looking at Chad's frail and sickly state now, Ethan couldn't help but feel sympathy for him. Chad had faced death head-on, and now, he was battling a simple cold, but it was clear that he was still pushing himself too hard. 

“Want some soup?” he asked, and Chad gave him a small smile and a soft nod, eyes grateful. 

Ethan wasn’t a very good cook, so when he saw that they’d run out of canned soup, he saw no other option than going to buy some more, hoping that some store was open so early. He checked on his friend again, seeing that he was fast asleep on the couch, cuddled up to the blanket. The sound of the blaring alarm hit Ethan's ears and he rushed into Chad's room to turn it off before it woke him up. Ethan quickly silenced it before changing into one of his hoodies and moving to head out.

When he opened the door, though, he locked eyes with you. Ethan froze in the doorway, surprised to find you standing there, he knew you were a neighbor, one that he’d been crushing on for a while.  In the dim light of the hallway, you looked equally startled.

Your presence was unexpected, but it also presented a chance for Ethan to make a good impression. He cleared his throat and managed a friendly smile. 

"Hey," you said, breaking the silence. "I'm sorry if I startled you. I usually come over to meet Chad for our morning run." Ethan nodded, still a bit taken aback. 

"I'm Ethan, Chad's roommate." he admitted, his voice tinged with curiosity. 

You extended a hand, and he shook it awkwardly, not really knowing how to speak to you yet. "Nice to finally meet you, Ethan. I'm Y/N."

Ethan noticed that you were dressed in running gear and holding a water bottle. It was clear you had come prepared for your morning jog with Chad. “Uh… Chad’s sick.”

Your concern was evident as you furrowed your brow. "Sick? That's not like him. Is it serious?" Ethan shrugged, still not entirely sure of the extent of Chad's illness. "I'm not sure, but he's got a pretty bad cough. I convinced him to stay in today."

You nodded understandingly. "Well, I hope he gets better soon. Tell him I stopped by and that I hope to see him back on his feet soon." 

"I will," You gave him a warm smile, making Ethan's heart skip a beat. "No problem, Ethan. If you ever want to join us for a run, feel free to tag along. We usually meet here in the mornings." Ethan felt a surge of excitement at the invitation, but he tried to play it cool. 

"I might take you up on that sometime." 

You gave him a nod, and he mirrored your silence as both of you thought of how to continue the conversation. Ethan couldn't help but feel a rush of nervousness wash through him. Here was the neighbor he had been secretly admiring for a while, standing right in front of him, offering an invitation to join her and Chad for a morning run. He had seen you from a distance many times but never had a chance to strike up a conversation.

As you both stood there, trying to find something to say, Ethan's mind raced with questions and topics to discuss. He finally broke the silence, realizing that this was his opportunity to get to know you better. "I was gonna… go get some soup for him, so…" he pulled at his ear lobe.

“Right, I won’t hold you up then.” you grinned, giving him a small wave before beginning to walk away, hands undoing your tangled earbuds. He watched you walk away, and waited a few seconds to put himself together. Quickly, he locked the door behind him and rushed to the nearest store to buy some soup for Chad.

When he returned to the apartment, Chad was still asleep on the couch, the blanket had moved off of him. Ethan quietly set the bag of soup on the kitchen counter and tiptoed over to Chad. He gently covered him with the blanket. Chad stirred in his sleep but didn't wake up. 

The next day, Ethan was woken up by that horrifying alarm once again, and he heard Chad’s singing again. He quickly stumbled off of his bed, walking through the dark, and when he reached Chad, he said “Hey man, can I join you today?”

His request caught Chad by surprise as he laced up his running shoes. He knew Ethan wasn’t a runner. He turned to face Ethan with a grin, his earlier sickness seemingly forgotten. "Sure, but are you sure you can keep up with me?"

Ethan chuckled nervously, “I’ll try.”

He followed Chad to the door, and there you were. You were leaning against the wall, water bottle in hand once again. “Oh, Ethan!” you exclaimed when you saw his distinct curls. "Joining us?"

Ethan felt a mix of excitement and nerves as he stood there, realizing he was about to go on a morning jog with both you and Chad. "Yeah, I thought I'd give it a shot," he replied, trying to sound way more confident than he felt.

You smiled warmly at him, and Chad chimed in with a smirk, "Great! The more, the merrier, right?"

Ethan was a few steps behind you and Chad, trying so hard to focus on keeping up with you two. He could feel his ears get cold because of the breeze, and he could hear you and Chad talking. You glanced back a few times, checking on Ethan, and he kept grinning and giving you a thumbs up, pretending not to be running out of breath. 

He felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach when he heard you laugh, you threw your head back in a giggle and Chad joined you. Ethan had to slow down his pace, and he wondered if it was possible for you to like Chad.

Ethan couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy as he listened to your laughter. He came to a full stop, needing to catch his breath before trying to keep up with you and Chad. Just a few feet ahead, you turned to check on the curly haired boy once again, seeing that he had stopped, you did too. 

“You okay, Ethan?”

“Huh?” he looked up, hands on his knees as he panted, “Yeah, yeah. Just out of practice.” he chuckled.

Ethan's chest heaved as he regained his breath, feeling slightly embarrassed about his sudden stop. You moved a couple steps towards him, handing him your water bottle with a smile “Do you wanna stop for a bit?”

He nodded and as he took a sip, he couldn't help but feel grateful for your consideration. Chad, standing nearby, gave Ethan an encouraging pat on the back.

"You're doing great, man," Chad said as he shot him a supportive smile. Ethan forced himself to regain his composure, determined not to let his jealousy get the best of him. He took a deep breath and handed the water bottle back to you with a grateful nod.

"Thanks, Y/N. I just needed a moment," he replied, wiping sweat from his forehead. The few curls that stuck on his forehead now slightly pushed back. “Let’s just keep going.” he insisted.

You hesitated, seeing that Ethan’s face was flushed red, and that his chest was still heaving from breathing so hard. Chad got ahead, and once you caught up to him, he slowed to meet Ethan’s pace, “You’re so red, dude.”

“What?”

“Your face, are you sure you wanna keep going?”

Ethan reached to touch his cheek, feeling it cold under his touch, “Oh, I’m fine.” Chad smirked and looked at you as you changed the song playing in your ears, “You sure it’s not because of her?”

His cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red, this time because of embarrassement, and he stammered, "N-no, it's not because of her. I just need to catch my breath, that's all." Chad chuckled knowingly, and patted his friend’s back.

You glanced back at Ethan with concern in your eyes but decided not to press the issue either. Instead, you offered a smile. He was grateful he had Chad next to him to follow his pace, because if he had been on his own, he was sure he’d fainted because of you.

Once back at the apartment, you bid your goodbyes from the boys, and the second the door was closed, Chad jumped to make fun of Ethan. “You looked like you were going to explode! Don’t even try to convince me it was because of the running.”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Ethan plopped down on the couch, face covered by his hands as Chad laughed. “Come on! I’m not stupid, you were practically blushing the entire time." he teased, nudging him playfully. 

Ethan peeked through his fingers, his cheeks still rosy. "Okay, maybe," he admitted with a sheepish grin. "But can you blame me?"

Chad's laughter subsided, and he nodded in agreement and leaned back on the couch, a thoughtful expression on his face. "You know," he began, "I've been friends with Y/N for a while now. We've been jogging together for months, and we've become pretty close. I think you two would get along really well."

Ethan's curiosity piqued. "Really? You think so?"

Chad grinned, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Oh, absolutely.”

The teasing didn't stop, of course. Whenever you would come over for a morning run or to check on Chad, he would nudge Ethan and raise an eyebrow, prompting a fresh wave of embarrassment for his friend.

He would sometimes pretend to be tying his shoes, or needing a water break, and urged the two of you to keep going without him. Ethan made sure to always shoot him a glare while you weren’t looking, getting a toothy grin in response.

You noticed that Ethan didn’t really talk. He would glance at you, trying to think of what to say, and then crumbled back into his little shy boy bubble. He silently cursed at himself every time he saw you look up at him, almost as if you were waiting for him to talk. It took Chad three times leaving you two alone before you broke the silence, 

“Chad talks a lot about you,” 

“He does?” Ethan seemed surprised, keeping in mind to thank his roommate once they were alone for kind of pushing his ‘matchmaking�� agenda. “Oh, yeah. All the time.”

“Good things, I hope?” he pulled at his ear lobe like he did when he was nervous, you chuckled, finding Ethan's nervousness endearing. 

"Oh, absolutely. He thinks the world of you." You slowed your pace a bit so you could walk alongside him, and Ethan's heart did a little somersault in his chest.

"That's nice to hear," he replied, a small smile playing on his lips. You hummed, looking back to see Chad smirking at you, winking before fixing the headphones that covered his ears. 

“Uhm,” you started, “To be honest, I thought you’d be more like Chad?” 

Ethan raised his brows in confusion. How on earth could he be intimidating? You stopped running, moving to sit on a nearby bench to fix your shoelaces, and he joined you. “What do you mean?”

Chad caught up to you guys before you could answer, his panting joining yours. You exchanged a quick glance with Chad, and he grinned knowingly, clearly enjoying leaving you two on your own.

You and Ethan exchanged a slightly awkward yet amused look, and then you turned back to Chad, smirking. "Well, Chad, you didn't mention how different you two are. I was expecting another chatty, outgoing roommate." you joked.

Chad laughed heartily. "Yeah, Ethan's the quiet one, but he's got his own charm. Trust me."

Ethan blushed at the compliment and tried to hide his smile behind his hand. You chuckled, a soft and melodic sound that made Ethan's heart flutter in his chest. 

Eventually, it became a routine for Ethan to join you and Chad in the mornings. Ethan found himself growing more comfortable with each passing day, thanks in part to Chad's relentless teasing and encouragement. As the days turned into weeks, he found himself looking forward to those early morning jogs, not just for the exercise but for the chance to spend time with you.

One day, as you all returned to the apartment after a particularly invigorating run, Ethan couldn't help but muster the courage to ask you a question that had been on his mind for a while. 

"I've been meaning to ask you something." he began, trying to keep his voice steady. You slowed your pace and looked at him with a friendly smile as Chad walked ahead, getting his keys out. 

"Well," he started, feeling a bit nervous, "I was wondering if you'd like to grab coffee or breakfast with me."

You cracked a smile, and Ethan felt a surge of hope. The fact that you were sweaty and panting suddenly dawned on you, and you felt a wave of embarrassement go through you as Ethan stared at you, waiting for a response.

You chuckled softly at the unexpected request, brushing a strand of hair from your face as you considered his proposition. "I'd love to," you replied with a warm smile. "But maybe we should both clean up first before we grab breakfast. Running gear and coffee shops don't really mix."

Ethan felt a mix of relief and excitement wash over him. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea," he agreed, feeling a bit self-conscious about his own disheveled appearance. "How about I come by later, and we can figure out a time?"

"Sounds perfect," you said as you reached the front door. Chad had already disappeared into their apartment, leaving the two of you alone to give you some privacy. As he watched you head into your own apartment, Ethan couldn't help but feel a sense of triumph. 

He had finally mustered the courage to ask you out, and you had said yes.

The second he stepped into his own apartment, he was met with a smirky Chad. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, a knowing grin on his face as he watched Ethan’s cheeks grow a pink-ish tint.

"Well, well, well, look who's finally making a move," he teased.

Ethan couldn't help but roll his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," he replied, his embarrassment turning into a playful smile. "You can say you played matchmaker successfully." Chad chuckled, walking over to give Ethan a friendly pat on the back.

"I knew you had it in you, buddy," Chad said with a wink, “But you took so long, this month has been so painful to me as your official wing-man.” 

Ethan couldn't help but laugh at Chad's dramatics. “Whatever.” He rushed back to his room, getting freshly showered and dressed.

He kept touching up his curls, ignoring the fact that Chad was staring at him from the couch, trying to hold in his laugh. 

"What's so funny?" Ethan groaned.

Chad finally burst into laughter. "You, man. You're acting like it's your first date ever. Relax, it's just breakfast." 

"Easy for you to say, Mr. Charismatic. Some of us need a bit more prep."

Before Chad could tease him some more, a quiet knock on the door made both of their heads turn. “She’s picking you up?”

Ethan rolled his eyes and hurriedly checked himself in the mirror one last time, making sure his hair was in place before heading to the door. Chad simply grinned and gave him a thumbs-up as he answered the door.

There you stood, looking refreshed and ready, no trace of the earlier sweat and fatigue. Your hair was down, and Ethan couldn't help but stare. 

He greeted you with a warm smile, feeling a surge of excitement mixed with a hint of nervousness.

"Hey," you said, "Ready for breakfast?"

You returned his smile with one of your own, and Ethan felt a sense of ease wash over him. "Absolutely," he replied. "Lead the way."

Reaching for his wrist, you gently pulled him closer to you, and Ethan could feel his breath get caught up in this throat. You gave Chad a smile and pulled at Ethan again, making him stumble a little as you lead the way. 

The two of you entered a cozy little cafe, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee greeting you as you stepped inside. You chose a corner table by the window, and as you settled into your seats, Ethan couldn’t help but smile. 

“This place is nice," Ethan commented, taking in the warm ambiance of the café. He couldn't help but feel grateful for Chad's persistence in pushing him to ask you out.

You nodded, looking around the café. "It's one of my favorites," you replied. "Their pastries are amazing."

As you began to recommend some of your favorite items on the menu, Ethan found himself hanging on to your every word, captivated not just by the food suggestions, but by you. A hair strand fell onto your face as you spoke excitedly, and Ethan stared at it as he thought of what you would do if he tucked it behind your ear, held your face and kissed you like he’s been wishing to do for the past month.

“I think I’ll get the apple turnover…” you said, eyeing the small menu paper in your hands. Ethan hummed, still staring at you. “What about you?”

He cleared his throat, “Uhm… me too, yeah. That sounds nice.” 

The second the pastries got to your table, Ethan couldn't help but notice the twinkle in your eyes as you took that first bite of your apple turnover. "You have to try it." you held the pastry towards him. He stared at your hand for a second and reached to gently grab your wrist to hold it still while he bit down on the treat. The taste was even better than he had expected, and he couldn't help but let out a satisfied "Mmm"

You giggled at his reaction, and it was like music to Ethan's ears. "I told you," you said with a playful grin. "Their pastries are amazing."

He nodded and he looked down at his plate, feeling giddy by the small interaction you’d just had. You smiled at him, “So, what took you so long to ask me out?" you asked, resting your head on your hand and looking at him with a closed-mouth smile.

Ethan felt his cheeks flush slightly at the question, "Well," he began, “Uhm…”

“Hmm?” “I just wasn’t sure if you’d want to come.”

You chuckled softly, your eyes locking onto his as you leaned in a bit closer. "Ethan," you said in a gentle tone, "I've been hoping you'd ask me out for a while now."

"Really?" Ethan replied, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

Your smile widened. "Yes, really." 

Reaching across the table you placed your hand on top of his, sending a warm and reassuring squeeze. He leaned in a little closer to you, his voice filled with a newfound confidence.

"I've been wanting to get to know you better for a long time." he admitted, his eyes locked onto yours.

Your cheeks took on a faint rosy hue, and you didn't break eye contact. "Well, I'm here now, aren't I?" you replied softly. "And I'm looking forward to getting to know you too, Ethan."

Ethan gulped, fixing his hair with his free hand as he tried not to focus on the fact that you hadn’t moved your hand yet. “Chad’s always talking non-stop about you,” you said.

Ethan couldn't help but chuckle. "He’s been trying to get me to ask you out for so long."

"He kept telling me how great you are, and I can definitely see why."

Ethan's heart swelled with happiness, making a mental note to thank Chad the second he got home. "I'm glad he didn't scare you away with the constant praise," he said, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand.

"Not at all. In fact, he made me even more curious to meet you," Ethan’s lips ticked up slightly, trying to hide the fact that he was close to grinning like a middle-schooler. “He insisted that you weren’t a runner, I was surprised when you agreed to join us.”

He cleared his throat and let out a short laugh, “I’m not. I hate it.”

You gave him a look, furrowing your brows in confusion. “I… I kinda joined because you asked.”

Ethan's confession made your heart skip a beat. "You joined just for me?" you asked, a warm smile spreading across your face. The fact that he had pushed himself out of his comfort zone for you was both surprising and endearing to you.

Ethan nodded, his cheeks slightly pink. "I wanted to spend more time with you." he let go of your hand to brush it over his cheeks, trying to calm himself down by his sudden forwardness.

Your smile grew even brighter, and he reached across the table to hold your hand again shyly. "I'm really glad you did," you said sincerely. You moved your hand to the tips of his fingers and Ethan made a move to hold it again, but you ran your nails over his skin slightly. 

Ethan shivered at the sensation, a pleasant tingling running down his spine. "I am too," he admitted softly, "And I hope we can spend more time together."

You leaned in a little closer, eyes never leaving his. "I'd like that," you replied, your voice low and filled with warmth. "A lot."

Ethan couldn't help but feel a shiver of excitement at your touch. Your fingers entwined with his, and he realized just how much he had been craving this connection with you. 

Time seemed to fly by, and before he knew it, the two of you had spent hours together, lost in conversation and laughter. It felt like no time had passed at all when you finally glanced at your watch and realized how late it had gotten.

"Oh wow, I didn't realize it was so late," you said with a hint of regret in your voice.

Ethan nodded in agreement, feeling a sense of disappointment that your time together was coming to an end. "Yeah, time really flew by."

You reached for your wallet, ready to pay the bill, but Ethan gently stopped you. "Let me take care of it," he insisted.

He gave you a smile as he grabbed his wallet, a small Grogu sticker on its corner. You bit down on your bottom lip, holding back a smile as Ethan paid for both of you. He blushed when you called him adorable.

You and Ethan strolled down the sidewalk, hands linked together and a comfortable silence between the two of you. Ethan couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment. He had finally taken the leap and asked you out, and it had turned into a wonderful morning. 

Reluctantly, you walked Ethan back to his apartment building. You stood at the entrance, facing each other. Ethan finally broke the silence, his voice soft but sincere. "I'm so glad I finally asked you out."

“Yeah, me too.” you grinned, “I never thought you’d get past staring at me when I was getting my mail.” you teased him. Ethan choked up, "I, uh, guess I was pretty obvious, huh?"

You chuckled, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair away from his forehead. "It's cute, Ethan." You leaned in, your lips brushing against his cheek in a soft, sweet kiss. Not knowing where to put his hands, he moved them to your waist, pulling at the hem of your shirt to get you closer to him. You pulled away, and you gave him a smile that made his heart race.  

Your fingers rested against his cheek. "I had a really great time today, Ethan," you said softly, your eyes locked onto his. He nodded, feeling a sense of warmth wash over him. 

"Me too," he replied, his voice filled with genuine affection. "I can't wait to do it again."

"I'll hold you to that."

Ethan squeezed your waist before letting go, giving you a smile. He reached for your hand, and mimicked the gesture you had done to him hours before, playing with the tips of your fingers before bringing them up to his lips and kissing them gently. “I’ll see you tomorrow? We could do this again after the run?”

You nodded, your eyes sparkling with happiness. "Definitely."Ethan leaned down, pressing his lips against your forehead once, before pulling back with a grin. You let go of his hands, shying away as he reached for his keys, mentally preparing himself for a whole bunch of ‘matchmaker Chad’ jokes.

[roosterforme]

Batting Practice Part 7 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley feels like you and he are compatible, so he decides he is all in with you and Everett. When you get a few minutes alone with him during the team pool party, it's evident that you are physically compatible too.

Warnings: Fluff, angst and swearing (eventually 18+)

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

Bradley had decided that complicated was good enough for him, as long as he could be around you. Nat was right; as far as adult problems went, he was being ridiculous to try to force himself away from a woman he wanted just because she had a kid. And not just any kid. Everett was great. Bradley honestly loved being around him, too.

So he kissed you. Sure, it was only on the cheek, but he didn't care who saw him. In fact, he hoped the other moms saw it. Maybe they'd leave him the hell alone.

"Ready, Coaches?" the referee asked, and Bradley and Bob both gave him a thumbs up. 

This game was much more of a blowout than last Saturday. Bradley hated to admit it, but the Tiny Owls were pretty terrible. He was looking for a way to silently instate some sort of 'mercy rule' so the kids on the other team wouldn't feel too bad about losing by so much. 

Everett was next up to bat, and Bradley pointed to first base. "Hey, kiddo. Let's practice hitting where I tell you to, okay? Hit the ball toward first base." And Everett managed to hit the ball exactly where Bradley told him. 

"Cool!" Everett cheered, earning a high five. Bob gave Bradley a thumbs up, and he had Piper do the same thing. 

Thankfully by the last inning, the Tiny Owls had come back a bit. But the Tiny Eagles still won by ten runs. 

When Bradley glanced at the bench, he saw you on the phone with Bob's credit card in your hand. You looked up at him and waved your fingers. 

You mouthed, "Hi, Coach," and Bradley's entire body lit up. He wanted to get you alone during the pool party, even just for a minute. He wanted to show you that he couldn't stop thinking about you.

------------------------

You pulled your car around the enormous recreation grounds and parked next to the pool. 

"Ev, I have to carry a bunch of stuff into the kitchen. Why don't you take your swim bag and work on getting changed?"

"Okay," he replied, and you watched him walk into the fenced in pool area and head for the boys' bathroom.

You walked around to your trunk and started to shimmy out the cooler and bags of ice, keeping Bob's credit card and the kitchen keys in your hand.

"I got it, Kitten!" Bradley was jogging up behind you, still all sweaty from the game. You felt his hand on your lower back at the same time his lips connected with your cheek again, and then he was reaching into your trunk as if this was the most natural thing in the world. "Where's Ev?" he asked, looking around, and your heart clenched. 

"Getting changed," you told him, your voice sounding a little dreamy. "You kissed me again."

He leaned in and kissed your cheek a third time just as all of the other parents started pulling into the surrounding spots. 

"Yep," he confirmed, lifting the cooler, bags of ice and juice boxes all out of your trunk in one shot. You grabbed the bags of chips and pretzels and scrambled after him with the keys. 

He paused to let you unlock the clubhouse door, and there was a smirk on his face as you squeezed in front of him. You wanted to kiss him until he wasn't smirking anymore. 

You jiggled the knob and threw your weight against the door, but nothing happened. "Turn the knob again," Bradley instructed, and he leaned against it, popping it open. 

"Thanks," you murmured, leading the way inside, and he was hot on your heels, setting everything down on the long countertop in the dimly lit kitchen. 

"Kitten," he muttered, stepping into your personal space and letting his hands settle on your waist. Your heart felt like it was bouncing around in your chest.

"Hello!" called a familiar voice, and you watched Bradley tip his head back in frustration as his hands abandoned your waist. Then Sandra strolled into the kitchen in a tiny bikini top and a pair of cutoff shorts. "There you are, Bradley! I didn't know if you wanted to taste my cupcakes before I let everyone else try them."

You had to refrain from rolling your eyes. Bradley cleared his throat and said, "Actually, I try to stay away from sweets."

You watched Sandra's face fall as she started to set up an elaborate cupcake display for the kids. 

"I'm going to go check on Everett and get changed," you said, brushing Bradley's chest with your fingers as you headed for the door.

"Great idea. I'll get changed, too," he said, following you out. 

You turned and looked at him over your shoulder. "You don't eat sweets?"

He chuckled. "Nah, I love sweets. I'd eat the shit out of your cupcakes, Kitten."

A giggle bubbled out of you. You were aching to feel his lips against yours. However, it felt wonderful to see him reject Sandra like that. You wouldn't mind watching him do that over and over again. 

"Mommy!" Everett ran over and thrust his bag into your hands. "Are you getting changed and coming in the pool with me?"

"Yeah, sweetie. I'm going to get changed. I'll put my feet in the water."

Bradley scoffed. "Just your feet? That's no fun," he said, winking at Everett. 

"Yeah, that's no fun! You should jump in with me!" Everett exclaimed.

"Us. You should jump in with us," Bradley corrected, swiping his hand over Everett's hair. 

You smiled at both of them. "Fine! You win. I'll jump in, but not until after lunch. Coach Bob has entrusted me with the pizza and his credit card. And as Team Mom, I'm reminding both of you that you'll need to wait thirty minutes after you eat before you can swim."

You listened to Bradley and Ev both grumble as they walked away from you, but Bradley turned around and winked as you headed off to get changed.

--------------------------

Bradley could only take so much. He wanted to kiss you and run his hands all over you. But fucking Sandra and her goddamn cupcakes had to interrupt all his fun. Now he was sitting in the sun in his board shorts, Phillies cap still backwards and aviators perched on his nose. He was watching Bob and some of the parents swimming with the kids, but he was completely distracted by you as soon as you emerged from the ladies' room. 

He dragged his sunglasses lower on his nose and really looked at you. Leopard print bathing suit? Was his Kitten trying to kill him? It was a one piece that tied in the front and showed a little gap of skin below your breasts, and Bradley was practically drooling now. You adjusted the black wrap you were wearing around your waist and went to sit at the edge of the pool. 

When you had your legs in the water almost up to your knees, Bradley saw Bob swim over and lean on the edge of the pool to talk to you. He could hear your laughter and see your bright smile from where he was sitting. Bob had heard Bradley freaking out about you at the Hard Deck on Thursday night. He had been there for all of the second guessing and over complication and word vomit Bradley had been spouting about being interested in a mom. What if Bob took all of that to mean Bradley was no longer interested in you?

Because he was. Bradley went home from the Hard Deck, got a little drunk and then got really sad when he imagined no longer having you and Everett in his life after tee ball season ended. 

Bradley got up and tossed his hat on the chair, and then headed toward the pool. Your eyes were on him immediately, and you did that cute little finger wave in his direction. God, he'd be so upset if Bob was flirting with you. He'd finally just figured out what he wanted and what he was willing to do to get it.

He jumped into the deep end and started swimming toward where you were sitting, picking up Piper and putting her on his shoulders along the way. Bradley tried to eavesdrop while Piper held onto his ears and asked to be dunked. So he told Piper to hold her breath and then dunked her one time.

"Wanna go see Uncle Bob, Piper?" he asked her.

"Yeah!" she squealed. "Uncle Bobby!"

"Excellent," Bradley muttered, carrying the child toward you and Bob.

You were smiling at Bob as he rambled on, but Bradley could tell your eyes were drifting toward him. "And I just never knew I could claim that when I file my income taxes, so thanks for explaining that to me. You're a lifesaver," Bob was saying. 

"You can ask me accounting questions anytime, Bob."

You had told Bradley you were an accountant. Bob was talking to you about income taxes. That wasn't sexy at all. Although... Bradley still thought that might be considered flirting for Bob. 

"Here's Uncle Bobby," Bradley said, thrusting Piper into Bob's arms while she demanded he dunk her. 

"Hi, Coach," you said, reaching down and taking Bradley's wet aviators off and putting them on yourself. 

"That looks cute, Kitten." He grabbed your foot and pretended to pull you into the water.

"Bradley!" you gasped, but he just smiled up at you. "I said I would swim later!"

He traced along your ankle under the water, and you let him. "Promise? I want to see Kitten get all wet."

You gaped at him, and he realized what he just said. But you pulled your foot slowly out of his grasp. "The pizzas just got here. I'm going to get them all set up in the kitchen," you told him, returning his sunglasses to his nose and standing up.

As you walked away from the pool, Bradley saw you turn around and look back at him a few times. 

"I think she wants you to follow her," Bob commented, tossing Piper under the water again. "I'll give you a five minute head start, and then I'm going to announce the pizzas are here."

Bradley was pulling himself out of the pool immediately. He tossed his sunglasses back onto his chair and dried off a bit with his towel before following you into the clubhouse building again.

-------------------------

Your heart was pounding as you looked out the kitchen window and watched Bradley pull himself out of the pool. His biceps were crazy. He had abs. He looked so incredibly hot, you weren't sure what to do. You kept opening and closing the pizza boxes without really doing anything. Now he was toweling off, his biceps and shoulders rippling again. 

He was coming inside. 

You picked up a juice box to keep your hands busy but looked up as Bradley walked into the kitchen. 

"Coach," you said a bit breathlessly as he made his way over to you without stopping. 

"Kitten," Bradley whispered, backing you slowly, intentionally up until you bumped into the counter. You shivered as he gently stroked his fingers up your arm. "Just wanted to come in and check on you."

You looked up at him, but your eyes fluttered closed for a beat as his hand made its way up to your shoulder before teasing the soft skin above your collarbone. His brown eyes were focused on yours, and his hand was huge and warm as he caressed you. You bit your lip and shivered again as his wet swim trunks met the front of your bathing suit, making you wet and cold.

"You only came inside to check on me?" you asked softly, pressing yourself against him. 

Bradley shook his head and groaned softly. "Came in to do this, too," he whispered, closing the distance between you, and brushing his lips against yours. 

Oh, he felt good. So good. You leaned in, deepening the kiss and let the juice box fall to the floor. 

Your hands went up to tangle in his messy, damp hair, and when he pressed you back against the counter, you were able to feel every inch of his body against yours. Bradley's hands glided down your sides to your waist, and next thing you knew, he was lifting you up and setting you down on the counter.

"Bradley!" you giggled as his lips met yours again with more heat. You spread your legs a little wider and let him stand between them as he stroked his fingers along your thighs. 

He placed a soft kiss to the corner of your lips, and when he spoke, his voice was deep and raspy. "Did you end things with Frank?" His lips brushed against you, making it so hard to think. 

"Yeah," you gasped as Bradley's lips connected with the side of your neck. "He's history," you promised, reveling in the feel of his mustache prickling your soft skin. "Ancient history."

Your fingers tugged through his hair, and Bradley brought his lips back up to yours. "That's a good Kitten. I'm not gonna share you."

Moaning, you pulled him closer so his abs were pressing against your core through the scrap of your bathing suit that was covering you. He worked his lips against yours as you held him close, your body fitting perfectly with his. You tasted his tongue, leaning closer to get more of him. 

"Bradley," you moaned when he pulled you closer to the edge of the counter, your core rubbing against him deliciously. He kissed your nose and your cheeks as you started grinding against his abs.

He guided your bathing suit strap off your left shoulder and kissed along your newly exposed skin as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

"You taste good," he grunted, his tongue coming out to tease you. Your head tipped back as his hands wrapped tightly around your waist, and his lips worked across the swell of your breasts above your suit. 

You were panting his name softly as his nose stroked your neck. Then his lips were on yours again, and you were devouring his mouth.

But you heard someone else coming inside the clubhouse, and you broke away from the kiss. But Bradley wasn't moving. He let his hands drift down your sides and to the tops of your thighs. 

"Someone's coming," you said breathlessly. But you didn't push him away. You knew how you looked right now with your bathing suit strap hanging down your arm and Bradley standing between your legs. 

He was just grinning at you and stroking your legs while you continued to grip his shoulders.

"Oh, hi," Bob said, taking one look at the two of you and blushing. 

"Hey, Bob. What's up?" Bradley asked before turning back to you and placing one more soft kiss to your lips. You ducked away from Bob and adjusted your shoulder strap. 

"Uh, just checking to see if the pizza is ready," he said, clearing his throat a few times. 

"Yeah," you managed to say. "The pizza is all set. It's ready. And so are we, aren't we, Bradley? Ready to eat pizza?" You were practically stuttering. 

"Sure, Kitten," he murmured, helping you down from the counter. You slid down the front of his body, bracing your hands against his hard chest. 

"Oh-kay.... well, I'll send everyone else in then," Bob said, turning to head back outside. 

You wrapped your hands around the back of Bradley's neck, and he smashed his lips against yours again, holding you in place with one hand on your ass. 

"You're trouble," he groaned as your lips dropped down to his neck for a second before you heard all the kids heading inside and finally broke apart.

-------------------------

Bradley watched you pick up the juice box that you had dropped on the floor when he started kissing you. You held it absentmindedly, chewing on your lip with a dreamy look on your face. He stacked up three slices of pizza on a plate to keep himself from reaching for you again. Then he grabbed some plates and got a slice ready for Everett and one for Amber as well.

You were nibbling on a slice of pizza and occasionally looking at him while you talked to Amber's dad. Bradley could tell you were barely paying attention to what he was saying to you, and that made him smile. 

Bradley avoided all the baked goods since he had already told Sandra he wasn't into hers. So he ate half a bag of chips while he tried to figure out how to get you alone again. 

Everett hugged you after he finished his pizza, and you told him, "Wait a half hour before you swim!" Then you pointed at Bradley with a grin and said, "You too, Coach."

"Okay, Team Mom," he said with a wink. Then he led Everett and a few other kids outside to the grass and started up a game of tag. He ran away from the kids, dodging their little hands for a while.

"You're fast, Coach!" Everett said, finally making contact with Bradley's arm. 

"Gotta be fast to be a good ball player," Bradley told him, immediately tagging Henry. 

Bradley ran around with the swarm of screaming kids behind him. A lot of the parents were laughing, and he watched you take a picture of him. 

"Is it safe to swim yet, Team Mom?" he asked, running past you. 

You were cracking up as you said, "Yes! Everyone can go back in the pool!" Half of the kids stopped chasing Bradley and immediately got back in the water. But he watched you untie your wrap and set it on a chair along with your phone, so he made another loop through the grass before making his way over to you. 

"Kitten," he growled, and your eyes snapped up to his as he scooped you up and tossed you over his shoulder. 

"Bradley!" you squealed in surprise, digging your nails into his back and making him groan. "Don't drop me!"

With one hand on your ass to keep you from squirming, Bradley walked to the edge of the deep end and jumped in with you, your delighted scream echoing through the air before you both hit the water. 

"Coach!" you gasped, scrambling against his body when you came up for air. "You're the worst."

Bradley grinned and ran his hands along your hips and waist beneath the water. "I just wanted to get you all wet."

You started laughing as your legs tangled with his under the water. This is what he wanted, just to hear you laughing all the time. 

"Mission accomplished," you whispered, biting your lip and running your fingers along his abs before swimming away from him. 

He wanted more than anything to follow you, but now he had Everett and a few other kids lined up at the deep end, waiting for Bradley to catch them when they jumped in. So he played with the kids while you swam around a bit, still thinking about how it felt to hold you.

----------------------

You were still damp and trying to clean up the kitchen, because it was almost time for everyone to leave the pool area and turn in the keys. A lot of parents had already started packing up and heading out with their kids, but you didn't want Bradley and Bob to have to clean everything up alone. 

As you were consolidating the pizzas into fewer boxes, you watched Bradley pushing Everett and Piper on the swings through the window. He was so good with the kids, and Everett was already very attached to him. You just hoped he would want to stick around. 

You turned when the door opened and saw Sandra stroll in. 

"Hey, Sandra," you murmured. "Do you want to take any of this pizza home?"

But she just rolled her eyes at you. "Don't you think the flirting is a little excessive?" she asked with a scowl. 

"I'm sorry, what?" you asked, heart pounding in your throat. 

"You and Coach Bradley. Around the kids? It's a bit much, and I don't think it's appropriate."

You couldn't believe she said that to you, as you looked at her tiny string bikini with wide eyes. You didn't think her swim attire was exactly appropriate for a family friendly pool day, but you just rolled your eyes and kept quiet. "I mean, I guess you're entitled to your opinion."

She just glared at you. "The two of you need to mess around on your own time."

"Okay, Sandra. And maybe you should flirt with your husband instead of the coaches."

Your blood was boiling. You didn't want to get into an argument with her, but you were single and you weren't doing anything inappropriate in front of anyone. Except maybe Bob...

But yeah, you should probably reel it in a little bit. But you weren't going to cave to Sandra's every whim.  

You watched her pack up her uneaten baked goods and sweetly asked her, "So is that a no to the extra pizza then?"

She just shot you one last dirty look over her shoulder before leaving with her cupcakes and cookies. 

You packed up the pizza, and you were about to check with Bob about what to do with it when he strolled into the kitchen. 

"Hey, thanks for all your help today."

"No problem," you told him with a smile. "Do you want some of this extra pizza?"

"Take as much as you want, and I'll split the rest with Bradley."

You packed up a few slices for yourself and then packed up one box for each of the coaches. You were carrying the leftover food out to the parking lot when Everett and Bradley finally emerged from the pool. 

"Sweetie, you need to get changed so we can head out," you told Everett, and he went to grab his swim bag. 

"Meant to ask you," Bradley said, pushing his wet hair back from his forehead and standing in front of you in all his dripping wet glory. "What time did you and Ev want to go to the park tomorrow so I can show him some pitches?"

A warm, gooey sensation washed over you. He was really serious about this. "How about in the afternoon? Around 2? Myers Park?"

"Sounds good, Kitten," he whispered. You saw Sandra out of the corner of your eye, so you stepped away from him.

"I have leftover pizza for you, and some for Bob. I'm going to take it out to your car."

"Thanks," he said with a wink.

You made two trips to the parking lot, dropping one pizza box off on the hood of Bob's truck and one on the hood of Bradley's Bronco. You also tossed your bags and the empty cooler into your trunk. And then your heart clenched in your chest. 

You watched Bradley carrying your son to your car on his shoulders, with Everett's swim bag dangling from Bradley's arm. They had changed out of their swimsuits, and both of them had huge smiles on their faces. And you had the uncontrollable urge to rub yourself against Bradley. 

"Mom! Coach is going to take us to the park tomorrow after lunch! And we can pitch baseballs! For real!"

Bradley knelt down next to your car and Everett scrambled off of him and gave him a hug, knocking his aviators askew.

"I'll bring Gatorade and chewing gum, just like in the big leagues," Bradley promised as he stood. 

Yep, you wanted to rub your entire body against him.

Bradley opened the car door for Everett, and then he took you by the hand and led you around the other side of his Bronco. "I wasn't sure how you felt about me doing this in front of Everett," he whispered, wrapping his long fingers around the back of your neck and leaning down to kiss you. 

You pulled him closer by his belt loops and nibbled on his lips. "Not quite yet, okay?" you whispered against his chin. "He likes you so much. I don't want him to get his hopes up."

You looked up at him as you put a little distance between your body and his, and Bradley's brow scrunched up. 

"I get what you're saying. But I think it would be more than okay for him to get his hopes up, Kitten."

You kissed him softly one more time and waved your fingers at him. "See you tomorrow, Coach."

----------------------------

Definitely physically compatible. Can't wait for them to get a little more physical. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!

PART 8

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

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[sarcastiaa]

𝓝𝓪𝓷𝓪𝓶𝓲 𝓚𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓸’𝓼 𝓦𝓪𝔂 𝓸𝓯 𝓢𝓱𝓸𝔀𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓐𝓯𝓯𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷:

Kento is the kind of person, who struggles with expressing his feelings for you. He won’t say “I Love You” word to word everyday to you, but he has his ways of showing his love for you.

♡ Kento is the S/O who will let you sleep on the weekend a little longer, he’ll leave the bed before you, slowly, tip-toeing so that he doesn’t wake you up. He will, slowly draw the curtains close so that the light doesn’t bother your sleep and leave the room.

♡ He’s would make breakfast on the weekend and will let you rest.

♡ He will go out for a morning walk or a jogging and will come home with a bouquet of your favorite flowers or he will pick random wildflowers and make a bouquet out of them himself and then leave it on the nightstand next to the your bed.

♡ Kento is serious about his work but on weekends or off days he will try his best to spend his time with you. He would be on his bed and read books, but if you ask to spend time with him, he’d either close him book and be with you or go out with you. Or he will just ask you to join him in bed and cuddle with him while you lay on top of him and he reads his book.

♡ Kento would always try to come home early on the days when you’re on your periods or sick. He would come home early and check up on you, get you chocolates, flowers, heat pads or hot bag to make you feel better. And he will be up and sit next to you running his fingers through your hair until you fall asleep.

♡ On his way home from work, he would stop by your favorite bakery and would get some of your favorite cakes. He knows you crave for sweets at late night, so he always sneakily leave those cakes in the fridge. When you open the fridge at 3 in the morning you find a box of your favorite delights

♡ You once told him that there’s this specific dress that you like, but you didn’t show it to him and he would spend nights after nights researching about the dress like the way you described, he would ask his colleagues about a dress like that, he would try to sneak on your phone while you sit on the couch and he walks behind you, just to see if he could glance once at your wishlist. And somehow by the end of the month you’d receive a delivery of the dress that you asked him about.

♡ He keeps his face stoic and grumpy most of the time but you told him once that he looks better when he smiles, so around you he would always try to smile more and show it to you so that you admire or compliment him. He would smile for no reason just looking at you just to get your attention. He expects you to come closer to him and just pat on his head and tell him how good he looks while smiling.

♡ You once told Kento that he looked better with T-shirts. Even though he preferred wearing shirts or suits more often just to make you happy he would go out wearing tight fit T-shirts. You told him he looked absolutely sexy in it and now to impress you more he’d wear stuff like that more often.

♡ Kento is nervous about to holding your hands when he’s outside walking next to you, he would glance over and over to you to find the right moment to hold your hand. He would look around, feel nervous, wipe his own hand on his pants cuz he thinks his hands are sweaty. Then he would try to walk a little closer to you and you would be able to feel the way he’s being nervous. So you would make the first move and softly hold his hands. Then he would feel a little more confident and hold your hand tightly. Even though you’re dating for so long, still he feels nervous around you.

[should I do a part 2?]

[lenaeclipse777]

chemtrails over the country club ☆ sebastian sallow x f!reader

summary: you and sebastian have always understood each other better than anyone else.

a/n: based on chemtrails over the country club by lana del rey!

warnings: none i think, just a lot of fluff + you and seb have lots of unresolved trauma, mc is a flirt

i’m on the run, with you my sweet love, there’s nothing wrong contemplating god, under the chemtrails over the country club

running through the highlands to fight goblins with sebastian shouldn’t have you feeling this exhilarated. fighting ranrok’s loyalists fills you both with a sense of purpose. yours being the final end goal of saving the wizarding world from another war, and sebastian’s being to get his revenge for anne.

no, fighting loyalists or poachers with anyone else didn’t excite you as much as it did with sebastian, because there was so much more to it for both of you. sebastian had introduced you to the world of duelling, and had practiced with you in the undercroft, poring over books and different wand movements.

“you coming y/n?” sebastian was standing a few feet ahead of you, and pulled you out of your thoughts as he questioned you.

his brown hair was tousled from the wind and the running, and his freckled cheeks were slightly pink. he looked like an angel, and you never wanted to look away.

“right behind you seb, you know your legs are longer than mine.” you smiled at him and jogged to catch up with him.

“race you to the next encampment love!”

you laughed as he started running ahead of you, shaking your head at his childish antics. yes, running with sebastian was definitely better than with anyone else.

meet you for coffee, at the elementary school, we laugh about nothing as the summer gets cool

the summer after you defeated ranrok, sebastian had disappeared to his (now empty) cottage in feldcroft. only you and ominis knew he was there, and that he had been doing yard work around the village all summer to make some money. ominis was still wary of being his friend, but you couldn’t just stay away. his sad face hadn’t left your mind since you had left hogwarts on the last day of term, and it was getting impossible to not run to him.

you had exchanged a few letters throughout july, just checking up on each other, making sure the other was staying out of trouble and getting enough to eat. you were staying in a room at the three broomsticks, courtesy of sirona ryan, and working a few days a week.

as august approached, it was getting harder and harder to stay away from him, so one day you told sirona that you were taking a week off to go stay with him. she was more than okay with it, and insisted you bring along some butterbeer to share.

sending him a short letter via owl, you packed your bag and took the nearest floo flame to feldcroft.

when you arrived in feldcroft, it didn’t take you long to spot him, as he was outside of his house chopping fire wood. your breath hitched as you looked at him, slightly sweaty, and definitely more muscular. his freckles were painted across his skin even more prominent with a summer tan.

“sebastian!” you called out to him, lugging your trunk with you as you crossed the path to his house.

his head shot up when he heard your voice, and the most genuine smile you had seen since the catacombs spread across his face.

he dropped his axe and ran to you, wrapping his arms around you and burying his head in your neck.

“i missed you so much.” his voice was thick, and you pulled away from him to cup his face in your hands.

“i missed you too sebastian, more than you know.” his arms didn’t leave your waist as he smiled down at you. after staring at each other for a few more seconds, he snapped out of his gaze and came to his senses.

“here let me get your trunk for you. i’ll bring it into the house and we can catch up.” he lifted your heavy trunk onto his shoulder with ease, and you had to restrain yourself from drooling at his display of strength.

once you had unpacked your things, you and sebastian sat down with your butterbeer from sirona.

“tell me everything you’ve been doing this past month seb, i’ve been so busy working at the three broomsticks i barely have time to write to anybody!”

so the night went on as you both talked and shared quiet laughs in the orange light of the sallow cottage, happy to be back in each others presence again.

i’m not bored or unhappy, i’m still so strange and wild, you’re in the wind, i’m in the water, nobody’s son, nobody’s daughter, watching the chemtrails over the country club

4 days had passed since you had arrived at the sallow cottage, and with each passing day, it was getting harder and harder to ignore the amount of feelings you had for the boy. you both had thrown around a fair few compliments and flirtatious remarks at each other throughout the week, and you decided that you could do this with him for the rest of your life. making breakfast together in the kitchen, walks around the trails near the village, and rolling around in the flowery meadows, pointing out different clouds and what they looked like.

it was all getting very domestic, and you were going to go crazy if by the end of the week you were still just friends.

today is the day you decided. the shameless flirting was already at an all time high, and you decided that today you were going to kick it up a notch.

sitting at a small table in the front yard of the house, you were watching him pull weeds out of the garden, his white shirt sleeves rolled up showing off his strong forearms.

“hey sebastian?”

he turned to look at you, wiping a few beads of sweat of his forehead. “yes love?”

“nothing, i just think you look very handsome today.” it was bold- you knew that, but you were past the point of caring. you knew no one else could ever make you feel how he made you feel.

he was blushing when you looked at him, a small smile on his face. he brushed his hands on his trousers and came to sit down beside you at the small table.

“you think so? because i think i’m covered in dirt and sweat and desperately need a bath.” he chuckled and his thigh brushed yours under the table.

“need any help with that?” you flirted, as you rested your hand on your cheek and leaned up to look at him through your lashes.

the flush on his face deepens, and he has to look away from your gaze or he just might explode.

“you are a terrible flirt, do you know that?” his voice is low but his eyes are swimming with a softness he saved only for you. “this whole week, i don’t think i’ve ever been more flustered.”

before you can open your mouth to retort, sebastian leans down and captures your lips with his. it’s soft and hesitant, and your shocked at first, but quickly throw your arms around his neck and kiss him back deeply. the kiss is needy and desperate, something that you both know should have happened a long time ago.

when you both pulled away for a breath, sebastian’s hand stayed in your hair at the back of your neck, and his forehead was pressed against yours.

“i’ve wanted to do that for so long, you have no idea.” he breathed.

“how long?” you asked him breathlessly, as you fought the urge to just kiss him again as much as you could.

“honestly? since you bested me in that duel at the beginning of the year. and pretty much any other time we were alone after that.”

“so you’re telling me we could’ve been doing that this whole time!?” you joked and he laughed heartily.

“we have all the time in the world to make up for it now love, don’t you worry.”

you gave him a loving smile, and leaned up to give him a soft peck on the lips. he smiled at you as your hand came up to rest on his muscular chest.

“why don’t we go run you a bath, and you can show me just how much you’ve wanted to do to me since that duel..”

sebastian didn’t need to be told twice as he grabbed your hand and all but dragged you into the house, shutting the door behind him quickly as possible.

the sound of your laughter filled the house as you both ran to get the bathing supplies.

yes, you both may have some unresolved issues, but as long as you were together, you knew you could get through it.

it’s never too late, baby, so don’t give up… under the chemtrails over the country club