#now let me put another option in the tags

[ceilidho]

prompt: Ghost only takes you half-seriously when you say you want to see other people. He has just the man in mind. tags: dubcon; threesome; anal (2.5k)

-

He doesn’t so much as twitch when you stumble over your words in an effort to get it out.

“I don’t think this is working,” you say, hands clenched into trembling fists at your sides. “I think we should start seeing other people.”

The only bit of it that Ghost really pays attention to is the fact that you decided to make this little announcement while he’s in the middle of taking apart and cleaning his gun at the kitchen table. His little spitfire girl. Not a lick of fear in you, just a fistful of attitude and snark. The attitude’s ensconced now in your trepidation, a bit smothered under it, nervousness a clear trill in your voice, making it warble, but it shows itself in the downward slant of your brows. Delightful girl.

“That right?” he grunts, jamming the lubricated cotton mop into the bore of the gun. You flinch at the sudden movement, nervous eyes trained on his hands. Ghost makes a note to apologize with his mouth later on.

“Yes,” you croak, then cough to clear your throat. “I’ve, um…I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I think it’ll be better for—for both of us. It’s just…it’s not working out.”

The cigarette dangling from between his lips stinks up the room. Poor girl, he thinks pityingly when you scrunch up your nose and eye it resentfully. Always trying to get him to quit. It’s just shit luck for you that he’s never been good at quitting things, at letting anything go. Everything he’s ever lived through clings to his skin like smoke. 

He ashes it out in the little turquoise ceramic pot on the table, a trinket he’d once picked up in Tala'a Kebira years ago while in Morocco on some other business. You look marginally less irked with the cig put out, but that just means that more of his attention can focus squarely on you, which leaves you a bit wide-eyed under his stare.

“For a while, hm?” Ghost asks. It comes out teasingly, if only to him. The lilt in his voice is a tricky one to catch.

You nod; the note must have slipped through your hands like smoke. “There’s a girl I found online that’s studying abroad right now. Offered to sublet me her room while I look for a place. I thought maybe, um…maybe tomorrow I’d go.”

“Don’t worry about all of that,” he says, already dismissing the conversation from his mind. “Won’t be back for another week anyway—no reason for you to run off if I’m not even around.”

“Oh.” You shift from side to side, thinking it over. “I guess. How long will you be gone?”

“A week. Two weeks tops.” Plenty of time for him to sort out this mess. Figure out what exactly caused you to get all jumpy and eager to try out other people. 

He smiles internally. Little bird probably just can’t stand how often he’s away, poor thing. It’d be enough to make any girl upset—the constant leaves of absence, gone months without being able to send word, showing up bruised and bloody on the doorstep only to have you fall to pieces trying to put him back together. 

There are options though. He’s not opposed to adding someone new either—in fact, he has just the man in mind. 

Ghost has been holding Johnny back because he always thought you preferred to just be with one man (and Christ, the whining he’d had to deal with from Johnny, always begging to see you or begging Ghost for even just your panties, anything at all because he was so desperate and Ghost wouldn’t let him have you), but now?

Now there’s no reason to hold Johnny by the collar when he comes over for dinner. Now there’s no reason to kick Johnny from under the table when he leans just a bit too close to you when you’re sitting down to eat, eyes locked on the glimpse of your chest peeking out of your shirt and damn near drooling on it. Now there’s no reason to listen to Johnny jack himself off to the point of tears while trying to get some shut eye on a mission, the only crumpled up photo that Ghost had ever allowed him to take cupped close to his face.

He really pitied the poor mutt before, no pretty girl at home, his only crush being his superior’s girl. But Ghost is magnanimous—he’s a generous man. If you want to see other people, he has the perfect puppy for you to play with.

When you smile, still a bit unsure, he has to smother a grin. “Okay. I’ll stay ‘till then and look.”

The look Johnny gives him when he brings it up is equal parts disbelief and fevered need. “Say that again, Lt?”

“You’re coming over after we wrap this shit up. Bird’s been asking about a third.”

He chokes, scrambling to his feet. The temporary base is damp, always on the frigid side of things so Johnny’s still in uniform for the most part, the fabric rustling in his haste to get up off his bed. It’s not a place either of them are eager to spend more time in than absolutely necessary. The lack of space means that the two of them are made to bunk together as always, sharing a room with two cots and a small en suite, the tub still wet from Ghost’s shower.

“Christ, yer serious? No joke, sir?”

Johnny pushes his head back into Ghost’s hand when Ghost reels him by the hair, dropping a firm close-mouthed kiss onto the centre of his forehead through the fabric of the mask. “She was clear about it. Why? Gettin’ cold feet on me now?”

“No, sir,” Johnny protests, shaking his head as much as he can in Ghost’s grip, eyes shimmering a bit. “I can bring over a bottle o’ wine if ye like. Somethin’ fancy to set the mood.”

Their closeness is not unusual; Johnny’s always been a tactile man, favouring touch over words. One of their small similarities; their shared modes of existing in the world. There’s a line in the sand where you’re concerned that Ghost has been clear on, but he’s used to always having a hand somewhere on Soap, keeping him close. Now, he gets to keep him even closer. 

His bird really has the best ideas. 

Ghost snorts, knocks their heads together. “Just bring yourself, pup.”

He ignores the way Johnny’s breath hitches, the way he hurries into the bathroom and slams the door behind him the second Ghost lets go. The frantic eager sounds from behind the door when the water runs, only muffling the loudest of his groans. He probably had his dick choked in his fist the second the door shut, a thick nut swirling down the drain within the first five minutes. 

They ship out the next morning, exhausted from the week’s work. No amount of sleep out in the field is ever good enough, especially not in cots barely built to accommodate men of their size. Especially not Ghost. Johnny dozes off on his shoulder in the plane, sinking into a deep sleep to compensate for the hours spent tossing and turning the night before. Ghost uses the flight to get a headstart on his paperwork, enough so that he’s not held up on base when they land back home. 

He doesn’t give you a heads up that he’s home earlier than planned; no need to give you enough time to pack a bag and schlep it over to that place you’d found. It’s better for everyone if you’re caught a bit off guard, just a little frazzled. Ghost’s not entirely unsympathetic—he knows you’ll overthink things if he gives you any time to yourself. 

It’s endearing the way you gape up at him, eyes flitting between him and Johnny, when he finally makes it home. For the few times that Johnny’s been over, it’s not an everyday thing; his visits are always planned and strictly timed, Ghost monitoring him to make sure he doesn’t overstep his bounds. Seeing him with Ghost in your foyer must be strange, must put you on edge. 

“Simon, you didn’t tell me you were—” you start and then pause, swallowing. You look over his shoulder at Johnny, smile stiff, uncomfortable. “Hi Johnny.” 

You’re always a good girl, not wanting to argue in front of company. 

“Heel,” Ghost says, steel in his voice when Johnny almost lurches from his side. The other man glances over at him with wild eyes, almost on the brink of disobeying, but he holds in the end and stays put. Ghost’s eyes soften when he looks back at you. “Have a nice week, pet?”

“Yes—sorry, I’m glad you’re home safe,” you say, flustered, taking his back from him to drop in the usual place in the hall. “I, um—” again, you eye Johnny nervously, unsure of how much you can say in front of him, “—I found a place…for…you know.” 

“‘Course,” Ghost agrees, shucking his boots at the door and giving Johnny a shake by his coat until he does the same. “Missed you too, pet. C’mere.” 

He muffles your protests with his mouth when he stalks forward and pulls you in for a wet kiss, rolling the mask up and off at the same time. You’re a bit stiff in his arms until he slips you some tongue and the resistance leaks out of you, helpless the second he gets his hands on you. Your eyes are still a bit misty when he pulls away, fingers clutched in the collar of his shirt like a reflex. Second nature to cling to him. His chest puffs up at the gesture.

“Thought about what you said the other week, bird, and you’re right.”

You blink, coherence coming back to you, shaking your head to divest yourself of the momentary confusion. “I am?”

“‘Course. Smartest girl in the world, isn’t she, Johnny?” Ghost asks over his shoulder, slipping a hand into your hair at the same time to hold you in place. It makes you frown, his actions not mirroring his words. 

“Aye, sir,” Johnny hums, nodding eagerly. Boots off, he stumbles forward, crowding around you from the other side, not realizing that they’ve backed you into a wall until it presses against you, trapping you in place. “Bonnie ‘n sharp as a whip. Always thought so, sir.” 

“That’s right,” he agrees, tightening his fingers in your hair until you squeal, brows furrowing in that way they do when you’re right on the precipice of pain and relief. “Only a smart, brave girl would ask for what she needs. You’re just lonely when I’m away, isn’t that right, pet?”

“I’m—I’m what?” you splutter, hands planted on Ghost’s chest, trying to push him away to no avail. He hardly notices it. 

“Go on, Johnny,” Ghost murmurs. “Since she asked so nicely. Give her a kiss.”

That’s all his mutt needs to hear. 

You huff and puff with the strain it takes to take Ghost’s cock after a week and a half away. 

You’re always tighter when he comes back, an effort to work you up to taking him again; he lets Johnny get you prepped this time, slobbering all over your pussy in his eagerness, plugging you with three fingers before you’re even close to ready. He gets off on the way you howl, rutting his cock into the sheets of your bed while he keeps you pinned by a thick arm over your stomach. 

Ghost has to scruff him after that. He takes over, running a soothing tongue over where it hurts until you cry big, fat tears and come a couple times. He makes sure you’re taken care of before it gets tough. You’re mindless by the time he moves off you to retrieve the lube from the bedside drawer, only coming back to yourself when he turns you over onto your belly and spreads the cheeks of your ass. It unwinds something in his chest to hear you yelp when he pushes a finger into your ass, like coming home. 

This is why he does what he does: to get this when the job is done. 

It’s not often he gets to do this, usually too big for you to take comfortably in your ass. Johnny’s not that much smaller, in fairness, so he works you up to two and then three fingers before lying down on the bed and pulling you over him. Your legs tremble when you straddle him, fingers digging into his chest when he lowers you onto his cock for the first time in a week. 

“There we go,” he says, grunting when you pull his chest hair a little. “That’s a good girl. We just about done crying now?” 

Ghost smiles when you shake your head stubbornly, eyes still filled with tears. “This isn’t what I meant, Simon.”

“You can cuss me out when Johnny’s done, alright? That make you happy?” 

He almost chuckles when Johnny clambers back onto the bed in his haste to get his hands back on you, his pants still hanging off an ankle until he gives it a shake once his palms fit over your waist. 

“Slowly, pup,” Ghost cautions, reaching around to spread a cheek. He coos when you flinch, whispering for you to relax. 

Johnny’s eyes roll back into his head when he pushes in, hips stuttering forward until Ghost snarls and he stops, letting out a deep, shuddering breath to calm himself down. Even for Ghost, it’s intense; you tighten around him when Johnny pushes in, only letting up when he cups your cheek and draws you down for a kiss, loosening you up with his tongue. 

“Sir, I can—fuck, fuck, fuck,” Johnny whines, back curving when he drops his head. “She’s so fuckin’ tight, I can—swear I can feel you, sir.”

He’s not wrong. Ghost swears he can feel it himself, Johnny’s cock in his pretty bird’s ass while his is stuffed deep in your cunt. You pant through the stretch, words half-croaked out, unintelligible. It’s better that way. He loves listening to you sing, but you’ve been in a right mood these past couple of weeks. Just needed a good lay to sort you out. 

“Simon,” Johnny begs, thrusting forward until he bottoms out in you, making your pulse skyrocket. “I cannae breathe.”

“Yes, you can,” Ghost says dismissively, wiping at the drool slipping out of the corner of your mouth. “Give ‘er a sec and then you can move.”

“So, so, so hot. ‘M gonna come—”

He reaches behind you to wrap a hand around Johnny’s throat, giving it a squeeze. Johnny’s eyes bulge. “You don’t get to come until she does, pup. That’s all the time, got it?” 

He doesn’t pay any mind to how Johnny nods and mumbles his little yes, sirs after that—he’s a grown man, maybe not as grown as Ghost, but man enough to compose himself until you stop trembling and sweating so hard. 

It’d been a mite difficult to wrangle you into bed. He understands. He’d let you talk yourself red in the face about this not being what you meant by ‘seeing other people’, but Ghost hears the said and the unsaid. You wouldn’t be still in his house a whole week later if you really wanted to leave. 

“Alright, pet,” he grins, running his thumb over your bottom lip until it drops open and you let him run it over your teeth. “Hang on now.”

[too-deviant]

jackie and wilson.

previous | next masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

summary: you haven't been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile

word count: 5.3k

content: fluffff, loser!reader, happy!luke if you squint and a sprinkle of loser!luke, brief mentions of suicide but nothing heavy, we finally find out which state reader is from

notes: this is so cute i love them.

PART III — she’s gonna save me, call me ‘baby’, run her hands through my hair

Wading through a misty green lake with Luke Castellan was not on your camp bucket list — something you’d produced with a young girl called Silena who you’d met in the arts and crafts cabin — but alas, here you were; knee deep in pond water and ankle deep in whatever sludge lived at the bottom, hands searching blindly along the floor while you tried your best to keep your chin dry. 

You probably wouldn’t have been there if you were any good at Volleyball — which really doesn’t make much sense with the given context. 

Okay, here’s what happened. It was Saturday at camp halfblood — and while you had been there for a solid three days now, you were yet to experience the joy of the weekends. Not that you knew they were any different, not until Travis Stoll approached you after breakfast. 

“Heyyyy, uh...newbie.” He chuckled, sidling up beside you while you were occupied with deciding whether your camp shirt was better tucked into your shorts or left hanging over them. 

You turned to the boy with an amused smile, reminding him of your name. He snapped his fingers at you, “I knew that. I did. I just prefer newbie.”

“What’s up, Travis?”

He dropped his finger guns, rocking back and forth on his feet and looking at you sheepishly, “Well, me and a few friends were gonna chuck a ball around on the beach and we need an extra player to make it even. Now that Luke’s not an option.” 

He muttered that last bit low and under his breath, not in hopes that you wouldn’t hear but in hopes that Luke wouldn’t — there was no telling how far he was from you at any given moment, but he wasn’t going to tell you that, so he just put on his charming Stoll Smile and said, “So, wanna join us?” 

You didn’t have anything to do that day, and since you’d assumed you were in for another long eight hours of finding out what you were good at and failing, a friendly game of ball (which you were safe to assume was volley, per what Luke told you yesterday) seemed like a great idea. 

Only it wasn’t — friendly, that is. You wandered over to the net set up on the beach with Travis at your side and a taller girl with curly blonde hair narrowed her eyes at you in suspicion, “How good are you at this?” 

“Uh —“ You shrugged, shaking your head slightly, “I’ve never played. We don’t have many beaches where I’m from.” 

“You don’t need a beach to play volleyball, newbie.” Connor Stoll appeared out of nowhere, grinning at you, “But it’s easy to pick up. You can be on our team.”

Their team consisted of Connor, Chris, Poppy from the Demeter cabin, Evie and Evan (twins from the Ares cabin) and now, yourself. Apparently it was a lost cause whenever the Stolls were on the same team, so Travis was on the other side of the net with the blonde girl from earlier — who’s name you’d learnt was Sabine, and who’s godly parent was Nike, which did not decrease your nerves even a little bit. 

“It’s pretty simple once you get the hang of it.” Evie explained to you once she noticed your unsure eyes. “Just don’t hit the ball twice in a row, Sab’s a stickler for that rule.” 

“Other than that, we’re pretty lax.” Her brother tagged on, smirking at you, “This isn’t the Olympics.” 

“Tell her that.” You side eyed the blonde on the other side of the net, who was cracking her knuckles and discussing strategy with Travis and Brynn, an Athena kid with a bright blue buzzcut. 

The twins let out identical chuckles, sharing a look before patting your shoulders, “You’ll be fine.” 

You didn’t have time to quip that the pair of them talking at the same time was a little foreboding before the game was on, and a volleyball was heading straight for you. 

To be fair to you, you lasted longer than expected. Maybe it was your battle instincts kicking in, but you hadn’t missed the ball once — sure, your defence lacked any real strategy and was more you hitting the ball in whatever direction and hoping for the best, but it was working, so why complain? You wouldn’t qualify for varsity, but at least you were one upping a Stoll brother — the same couldn’t be said for most campers, you knew that much. 

You actually thought you were getting pretty good, too. Your team was up by a few points (no thanks to you, all thanks to Evan. Seriously, he was like six foot four) and Sabine was getting angry. Every now and then she’d turn and scowl at Rhea, one of her teammates, and the girl would just shrug in response before returning to her position. But then, just when you started to get confident with it, Travis got you. 

Hard, too. You were paying close attention to your feet, making sure you didn’t trip over any sand when you had to move, and unfortunately didn’t notice the ball coming at you until it clipped you in the face. You went down onto your ass, both hands flying to your nose and groaning when you felt a warm trickle of blood slide through your fingers and down your hands. 

“Holy shit, newbie.” Travis sped over, dropping to his knees next to his brother and hovering over you, “I am so sorry, are you okay?” 

Your speech was muffled and nasally when you replied with a swift, “No, asshole!”

“Shit.” He muttered, looking between Connor and Evie, “Uh, I can take you to the infirmary if you want —“

“I’ll take her.” Evan interrupted. He was crouched somewhere behind you, looking at your teammates over the top of your head. You felt his hands flatten on your back as he pushed you up to stand, the rest of the group joining him and wincing when some blood dripped onto the sand. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to —“ You held out a hand in his direction now that you could see him, only to press it firmly back against your face when your nose simply started to gush once the pressure had been removed. 

“Yes,” He nodded, “I do. Let’s go.” 

You let him lead you, sending an apologetic look to the remaining teens on the sand — you were pretty sure it looked nothing like an apology since your hands were covering half of your face and there was blood seeping through your fingers, but it was the effort that counted. 

You didn’t receive as many looks as you thought you would’ve on the walk to the infirmary, although you assumed demigods had gotten worse injuries than a nosebleed before, so it wasn’t exactly odd. When you got there, you stopped on the porch and tried to speak to Evan as best you could without letting any more blood spill. 

“You can — you can go.” You said through your hands, “I got it from here.”

He looked a little unsure, but you nodded firmly and he turned back the way he came. It was pretty embarrassing, walking into the infirmary with a bloody nose on your third day at camp, but the Apollo kid who took care of you said it was only a matter of time before you shed first blood, and that you’d better thank the gods it was a volleyball and not a hellhound that did the damage. 

They stopped the bleeding with some sort of special gauze and told you to be a little more careful before sending you on your way — which was when you found Luke. 

You didn’t even see him at first, more focused on folding the gauze you’d been given into a perfect square while you stepped off the wooden porch. But then a voice muttered your name in slight shock and confusion, and you looked up to meet those baby brown eyes you couldn’t help but love. 

You grinned, “JoJo.”

Luke shook his head, “What were you doing in the infirmary?” His eyes tracked all over you, assessing for any visible injuries. When he found none, he turned his questioning gaze back to your face. 

You sucked in some air through your teeth, embarrassed, “I, uh, got hit in the face with a volleyball. Turns out, I’m awful at it.” You let out a weak chuckle, and Luke rolled his eyes in amusement. 

“Of course. I thought baseball was your thing?” 

“It is.” You nodded, “But there’s nobody out here to play with, so…” Then an idea sprung, and your face lit up so visibly that Luke took a tentative step back, “Hey, why don’t you come watch? We’re playing on the beach.”

“Oh.” The boy paused, eyes sliding to the beach and back to you, “I don’t think so…I, uh, tend to spend my weekends alone.”

“You spend your everything alone.” You pointed out with a raised pair of brows. He pursed his lips. You sighed, “Come on. You don’t have to play.”

He looked as if he was thinking about it, and your hopes were raised a little. You liked Luke, you wanted to know him better and one day consider him a friend rather than a guy you harassed every day. But you were very aware of his aversion for all things social — the comment Travis made about Luke not playing with them anymore saddened you, and it pained you to imagine Luke all alone while his brothers and friends still had fun around him. But then his face dropped, and so did yours, Luke shaking his head no. 

“I just…” He shrugged, “I don’t really…”

“It’s okay.” You interrupted before he could spout out his excuse. He didn’t need one. “We can do something else.”

“Oh, I —“ Another shake of the head, “You go back to them, don’t let me ruin it.”

“You aren’t ruining anything.” You said plainly, and you thought that those four words hit Luke a lot harder than expected, because he had this pensive look on his face that didn’t fade until you spoke again, “Listen, I know baseball isn’t exactly a camp sport, but I’ve got a ball. This place has gotta have bats — I mean, if it’s got swords, it’s got bats, right? So we grab them, we go off somewhere and take turns batting. I need to stay in practice anyway, if I’m gonna make varsity.”

You sent him your shiniest smile paired with some doughy eyes, and after squinting at you for a solid ten seconds, Luke agreed to your idea with a hesitant nod. You weren’t exactly expecting him to jump up and down in joy, so you took the liberty of doing that before asking him, very enthusiastically (because if you stayed positive, maybe it would rub off on him), to go look for a bat while you grabbed your ball. 

Chris caught you exiting the Hermes cabin while he was filling up his water bottle using the outdoor tap not far from the porch, asking you what you were doing with a baseball. You explained that volleyball was definitely not your thing and ignored his chuckle of agreement in favour of informing him that you would be teaching Luke how to become the next Babe Ruth. He raised a brow. 

“Really?”

“Uh, yeah.” You replied, a little put off by his reaction. “Is that a problem?” 

“No, no.” He backtracked quickly, hands raised and water sloshing around his bottle as the movement, “I just…I dunno. Luke’s been a little off recently. If I were you, I wouldn’t meddle in it.”

“Meddle?” You asked, shaking your head, “In what?”

“In his…” He puffed out his cheeks, trying to find the words, “His funk.” He shook his head then, eyes glossing over as he thought about it, “He failed his quest, he’s a little butthurt, but…he’ll get over it. Y’know?”

You didn’t know. 

“I just don’t think he needs babysitting.” He firmed, looking confident in his wording now that he’d found it, “He’s just gonna talk your ear off about how much he hates his life until you’re borderline suicidal. I wouldn’t bother, personally. He's a big boy, he can get over it.”

You rolled your lips over each other, staring blankly at Chris as he sent you a polite smile and walked back to the beach. Slowly, your eyes narrowed, and your brows pulled together. But you didn't say anything, you just turned around yourself and walked to where you’d asked Luke to meet you. 

He was tossing the bat between his hands when you got there, dropping it in his left when he spotted you and nodding, “Alright, where are we doing this?”

You stopped, snapped out of a stupor you didn’t even realise you were in and blinking at him. For the first time since you’d met, it seemed that he was more focused and lively than you were. It irked him a little bit, and he frowned, “Sunny?” 

“Sorry.” You responded immediately, shaking your head to rid yourself of your spiralling thoughts, “I just…uh, let’s go somewhere clear. We don’t wanna hit anyone with the ball.” 

Luke led you to a clearing in the woods, explaining that the wood nymphs would be able to help you if the ball got lost in the foliage, so there was no need to hold back the arm you’d been bragging about for the entire walk. You just smirked, raised the bat level, and nodded at him to serve. 

Yes, you were a thousand percent better at baseball than you were at volleyball. You knew that, of course, but it was nice to be reassured. Luke wasn’t half bad either, but you were also a really good runner, so you kept having to remind him that an average level fielder wouldn’t have a chance against his bats — you just so happened to be way above average. 

Plus the wood nymphs were very helpful — apparently they didn’t get to watch many demigod activities other than capture the flag so it was refreshing for them to see you two play, and to actually be able to help. 

All in all, you were having a great time. Which of course meant that you were long overdue for something going wrong. Of course. 

“I can’t find it.”

“What?” You asked breathlessly, staring at the tree nymph who shrugged at you plainly. 

“It rolled into a pond, I think.” He sniffed indignantly, “And I am not climbing into a pond.”

“Oh, and you expect us to?” 

And that, kids, is how you ended up knee deep in pond water and ankle deep in something else — with Luke Castellan right by your side. 

“This is so gross.” You whispered, grimacing as your hands ran over the murky bottom. You couldn’t see anything but your own reflection when you looked in, so you were replying on touch alone to help find your ball. “I can’t believe this. My lucky ball and it falls into a pond! Not so lucky anymore, huh? Yeah, lucky my ass.”

“Hey, Sunny?” A slosh of water rippled over you and you had to straighten up to avoid the tiny waves splashing in your face. They only increased at your movements, but you were too busy glaring at Luke to notice. He pressed his mouth together, holding in a chuckle, “You’re not being very sunny right now.” 

You huffed, flinging your arms out at your sides and wincing when you splashed water on yourself by doing so, “I —“ A huff, “I don’t feel very sunny, Castellan. I am wading in sludge.” 

He actually had the audacity to let a tiny grin slip through, “Wow, the last name? You’re acting like me right now. It’s weird.”

“I can’t believe this.” You repeated, narrowing your eyes at the boy, “I’ve been trying to cheer you up since the day I met you and when you finally do, it’s because you’re relishing in my pain? Fuck you.”

As if he was trying to piss you off, Luke laughed. He actually laughed, exactly like he had yesterday and if you weren’t so annoyed you’d be smiling at him for it. But you were annoyed, so all you did in response was send a wave of pond water at him and drench his front. 

He stopped laughing. You started laughing. 

“Okay, is that how you wanna play this?” He asked, stepping closer, “Is it?” 

You grinned, stepping back. The water moved when you did, and the paired struggle of your’s and Luke’s legs under the water just increased the waves that oscillated around your knees. It slid up to your thighs and threatened to wet the denim of your shorts, but you were too busy prying your foot out of whatever the hell lived at the bottom of the pond so you could escape Luke’s wrath. 

You shook your head, “You don’t wanna do this.”

He nodded mockingly, “I think I do.”

Then it was on. He lunged for you, and you dived to the left in a swift attempt to get around him. Water was splashing everywhere at this point but neither of you cared — especially when Luke’s hands were mere inches from your arms, waiting for your ankle to snag on some algae and pull you back so he could push you over. You were smarter than that though, so you did a swift one-eighty, dragging your hands under the water with you as you did — the wave that accumulated from the momentum doused Luke from head to toe, his curls sticking to his forehead. He wiped them away and blew hard from his mouth before forming a weak glare in your direction.   

Your jaw trembled as you held in what you knew would be some serious chortles — but it was silent. The only noise apparent was the settling of the waves now that you had both stopped moving and Luke’s heavy breathing in front of you. He shook his head, stepping forward slowly, and you braced yourself for what was about to come. 

“Hey!” 

You paused. You shared a look with Luke before looking confusedly at the form that had appeared suddenly between the two of you. It was a girl by the looks of it, only she was made entirely of the water the two of you were standing in. She glared between the pair of you, hands on her hips. 

“I don’t appreciate all this splashing.” You felt suddenly like you were being berated by a school teacher for talking too loud during class, “Are you trying to drain my pond? Are you?”

“N—No.” You responded, shaking your head, “We were just looking for — ”

The water nymph held up your ball with a stern expression, “This? Yeah, it looked like you were.” 

Her sarcasm was not lost on you, and you tried your best not to meet Luke’s eyes, knowing they would fail you the second you did. Instead you looked at the nymph before you and took the ball from her outstretched hand, “Thank you. And, um, sorry…about the splashing.”

She folded her arms, lifting her head and straightening her shoulders, “That’s okay. Now get out.”

You were both quick to exit the water, although not too quick that you made anymore of it splash onto the rocks. Once you were out, the nymph nodded in satisfaction and melted back into the pond, and you and Luke were finally able to breathe. Then, you both burst into laughter. 

“Oh my gods.” You huffed, shaking your head and looking down at yourself, “Did we just get into trouble?” 

“With a water nymph?” He finished, shrugging off his wet shirt and wringing it out, “Yeah. How embarrassing.”

Your mouth was suddenly very dry. You knew Luke was strong — he had to be to fight a dragon and come back alive. To be known as the Best Swordsman in Camp. To be trusted by so many campers despite his newfound, distanced demeanour. But damn. 

You blew out a long puff of air, hoping your reddened cheeks could be excused as some light sunburn. You weren’t as soaked as he was, but you still wafted your damp shirt from your body in hopes that it would dry — and also to give yourself something to do that wasn’t ogling at Luke’s lean figure. 

He spread his shirt out on a rock, ensuring the sun was hitting it right before lowering himself to the ground on the dry grass a few feet away. He leant back on his hands, face to the sky, and revelled in the warmth. You stayed standing, fiddling with the button on your shorts, staring at him. At the scar on his face, at the rest of them along his chest. 

He cracked one eye open, glancing at you, “What?”

“I, uh.” You licked your lips, “Nothing. Nothing.” You muttered, taking a seat beside him and crossing your legs. Your gaze stuck firmly to your lap and you waited for his to return to the sky. It didn’t. 

“You can ask me.” He said then, shrugging. 

“What happened on your quest?” You let slip, and when he stayed silent for a second too long, you realised that maybe that wasn't the question he was giving you permission to ask. “I’m sorry. I know it’s none of my business, it’s nobody’s really. But Chris told me before that you’re in a funk and that seemed like a gross understatement but then again I’ve known you for, what, three days? He’s known you for years, so surely he’s right. But you just seem like it’s more than a funk, and I don’t know what to believe because I don’t know what happened but I also don’t want to ask because it’s none of my business and it’s also very clearly a sore subject because of what happened with Dean. Not that I think you’re gonna fly off the handle or anything, but it’s definitely a touchy subject and I can’t just go demanding all the details just because I wanna be your friend and— ”

A hand over your mouth stopped you from continuing what Luke was sure to be a very long tangent. He looked at you, half in shock, half in amusement, and huffed out a laugh, “Sunny, you need to calm down.”

You couldn’t respond, but you did nod. He removed his hand slowly and you swallowed your embarrassment. Luke sat up fully, straightening his back and clearing his throat, “Uh, okay. Have you heard of that Hercules story? With the golden apples?” 

You nodded, afraid to speak in case you went off on a rant again. He nodded with you, “Yeah, well, my father sent me on that. The exact same quest…except I failed.”

That explained the scar, and the dragon story he’d mentioned very briefly yesterday. He started to go into a little more detail about his quest — and suddenly you were overcome with this…angry sort of sadness. 

Hermes sent Luke on a quest that had already been done. After hearing Clarisse yap your ear off about Kleos, you understood why he’d been a little bummed. Honestly, if it were you, you wouldn’t have even gone. What’s the point in doing a quest that’s already been done? But you didn’t say that to Luke, who seemed a little deep into his story. You just simmered in your irritation while he continued to explain his battle with Ladon, and his ultimate failure. 

“I refused to leave the infirmary for a week.” He chuckled, but it was a little sad. “I mean, I’m supposed to be a leader here, and I fail my first quest? Some demigod I turned out to be.” 

Without even thinking, you shook your head, “You didn’t fail.” Luke looked at you, confused, “You battled a dragon with a hundred heads and lived. That doesn’t sound like failure to me.”

“But I didn’t get the apples.” He explained. “I disappointed my father.”

“Your father…” You said slowly, unsure of how your next words would land, “Who I’m going to assume had never spoken to you until the day he gave you your quest?” Luke nodded after a brief pause and you took that as permission to continue, “So who cares if he’s disappointed? He clearly doesn’t care if you’re mauled by a dragon.” 

“Exactly.” Luke replied, brows pulled together in the way they had been when you’d first met. Angry, irritated. Disappointed. “Everyone keeps telling me to get over it. That demigods have failed quests before and it just means I need to try harder next time but…why should there be a next time? Really, if you sit and think about it for a second, why are we even here? To train, so we don’t die whenever monsters come and attack us? And who’s fault is that? Maybe if our parents were good people, there wouldn’t be any monsters trying to murder their kids. If they cared, even a little bit, they’d do more than just claim us and leave us to die!” 

He scoffed, looking in the direction where you knew the rest of the campers resided — playing games, building weapons, dedicating every waking hour to becoming the best of the best. And for what? For glory? For a pat on the back from a parent who can’t even be bothered to raise them? 

“They don’t get it.” He said then, turning back to you, “They think this is all okay. They’re too invested to realise that they’re just being used. They’re so focused on getting a shred of recognition from the gods that they don’t understand that it’s never gonna come.”

“So…” You finally spoke, your first words in a minute, “What do we do?”

Luke shrugged then, “I don’t know yet.” 

It was silent for a long time after that. Luke stayed staring at the floor and you led back to stare at the sky. He was right, wasn’t he? Sure, you’d only been in this for a little while, but you weren’t stupid. You knew the gods didn’t care — you’d figured out that much when you got to camp. A dumping ground for demigods. Demigod daycare, except mommy isn’t coming to pick you up at three o’clock. Luke deserved to be angry, he deserved to mope — they all did. 

But they wouldn’t. You could sit there and curse the gods for hours on end, but that was still half of you. And that, you thought, was probably the worst part of it all.  

You were so caught up in your feelings that when the tree that had been shading you phased into a nymph and walked away, you jumped halfway out of your skin, “Jeezum crow.”

You looked at Luke, expecting him to either share the same dumbfounded look on his face or be laughing at you — something he seemed to be doing a lot of today — but instead he was staring at you, slack-jawed and wide eyed. You blinked, “What?”

“You’re from Vermont.” 

Your mouth snapped shut, and his expanded into the grin you’d been hassling him for since you’d set your sights on him. You sighed, “Fuck.” 

He let out a disbelieving laugh, “You’re from Vermont! Holy shit. I should’ve known it when you called me a flatlander.” He threw his head back, and you shook yours at his dramatics. But he didn’t care, he just pointed at you, “You’re a fuckin’ woodchuck!” 

“Oh my gods.” You groaned into your hands, pulling yourself to your feet in hopes of escaping his sudden glee. “Is that so bad?” 

“No.” He laughed, following you, “I’m just amazed that I figured it out. I’m a genius!”

“Okay.” You sent him a blank look, but it only lasted a few seconds before your tiny smile was fighting through, “It’s not like you’ve discovered the meaning of life. Calm down.” 

“Never.” He shook his head, “This is my greatest achievement.”

“You fought a dragon.” 

“Screw the dragon!” He gripped your biceps, grinning at you, “You’re from Vermont!”

“You’re not funny.”

“And yet you’re laughing.”

“I am not.”

“You are.” 

“I’m not!” 

____________

“What’d you do to him?” 

You threw a piece of salmon into the fire, glancing at Chris, “I’m getting deja vu. Haven’t you asked me this already?” 

“Yeah, but…” The boy looked behind him, back at the Hermes table, where Luke was perched on the end and waiting patiently for you to come back from the hearth before digging into his food, “This time I mean it. I mean, he still isn’t talking to us, but he’s sitting on our side of the table again. You can be honest with me…” He sent you a grave look, “Did you give him a BJ?” 

“What? No!” You threw a pea at him. “I just listened to him.” You tried to be a little serious, but clearly Chris wasn’t getting the hint, so you relented, “And doused him in pond water.”

He laughed at that, nodding proudly. You turned back to the fire, asking Aphrodite to get rid of your split ends. You’d given up on praying to your father, deciding to go through every Olympian until one of them answered. So far, only Hera had responded — you assumed so, anyway, when a cuckoo woke you up from your afternoon nap. That wasn’t very helpful, but at least it was an answer. You didn’t suspect campers prayed to her often, so she probably appreciated the sentiment. 

“So…” Travis smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at you once you sat down. He sent this look around the group, but even Connor gave him a weirded out look in response. He huffed, “It’s team day tomorrow.”

A collective ohhh seemed to hum around the group, but you were still confused. You sent a questioning look to Luke who said, “For Capture the Flag. Tomorrow is when all the cabin counsellors gang up and decide on the two teams.”

“Then we have five days to strategise.” Travis continued on very dramatically, hands splayed on the table, “And on Friday…we battle.”

That seemed to lift the energy up a bit, the people around you sharing mischievous looks. They started to discuss amongst them who would be the best cabin to ally with, Lana turning to Chris, “Who are you gonna pick?” 

Chris went to speak, but paused. He seemed to think about something, looking slightly scared but still turning to the boy across from him anyway, “I thought maybe…Luke would like to reinstate himself as team captain this month.”

Right, you’d completely forgotten. During your spear lessons with Clarisse, you’d asked her why it was so important that you be amazing at fighting quickly if monsters couldn’t get into camp. She’d then explained the whole situation that was Capture the Flag — how it was a bigger deal than the super bowl around here — before briefly mentioning that Luke had always been Hermes team captain, but stepped down for the last game because his scar was still healing from his quest. Chris had taken over for him, and based off of the looks the people around you were sporting, you assumed they weren’t expecting him to give up his title so quickly. 

You couldn’t blame them. Luke hadn’t exactly expressed much desire to captain this time — he hasn’t expressed much desire for anything these days apparently. You were all waiting for him to let Chris down easy, but instead he looked up from his plate with an indifferent nod and said, “Yeah, sure.” 

Nobody said anything. Except Chris who, when Luke stood to rack up his empty plate, looked at you gravely and asked, “Was it a handjob?”

🏷️ @katherines-imagines @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry @jennapancake @cobaltskiez @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @m00ng4z3r @mischiefmoons @woodlandwrites @theo-notts-doll @iammightsadyall @fennecswife @csifandom @tsireyasgf (just ask to be removed/added!)

[fairlyang]

Appreciate 🕷️

caught masturbating while babysitting

w/c: 5.1K

pairing: dilfneighbor!miguel x latinababysitter!reader

tags: 18+ smut. slow burn oops, age gap (not specified but reader is early 20's, mig early 30's, dirty thoughts ensue, caught masturbating, he helps you out, fingering, staying quiet

notes: the getting caught fucking KILLED me rn while editing I cannot😭

Miguel O'Hara was one of your neighbors and your parents quickly got a liking to the single father across the street. He was very laidback and kind, accommodating with all the neighbors for literally anything.

So considering that when Miguel would say he never had time for himself due to always taking care of his daughter, Gabriella, your dad told him you'd be happy to babysit for him while he took him out to get a couple drinks with a few of the other dads in the neighborhood.

But of course you had no fucking clue this conversation was even had until the day your dad promised him some drinks.

"Oye mija le prometí a Miguel que ibas a quedar a su hija para sacarlo a tomarnos unos tragos." He tells you standing by your doorway while you sat on your bed and then just walks away. (Hey honey I promised Miguel that you were going to take care of his daughter so we could take him out to have a couple drinks)

"Porque hiciste eso?!!?!" You yelled and quickly hopped out of bed and ran after him beyond pissed. (Why did you do that?!!?!)

"Si apenas me estaba alistando para salir con mis amigas no chingues!!!!" You screamed following down the stairs in your heels that clicked on every step. (I was just getting ready to go hang out with my friends. it's a phrase that can be used for shock or when shit goes wrong)

"Pues dile a Miguel que se canceló el plan entonces." He says so confident you wouldn't do it until you walk past him and heading straight to the front door. (Then go tell Miguel that the plans are canceled)

"AY OKAY! Que quieres?" He says and rolls his eyes as you turn around to face him. (What do you want?)

"Me debes un enorme favor. Lo que sea cuando te lo pida." You say and point a finger at him, just to show you really mean it. (You owe me enormous favor. Whatever it is, whenever I ask you of it)

"Ya que-" (ugh whatever- or like 'since I have no other choice')

"Tu mismo te hiciste esto." You quickly cut him off and he only groans. (You only did this to yourself)

"Pues deja me pongo cómoda. Ya que no tengo otra opción." You say and glare at him to which he only gives you a goofy smile. (Let me get comfortable. Now that I don't have another option)

You reluctantly went upstairs, annoyed that this was how your Friday night was gonna go over going clubbing with your friends.

But shit happens, what can you really do?

You go back to your room and take off your perfectly chosen red mini dress and put the sweats you were wearing earlier back on. You then grab a tee shirt that had hello kitty on it with some sunglasses, hoping to get some brownie points by the little girl at least.

You then slip on a pair of purple crocs and you're done. Until you realized you had already put your makeup on so now you have to take it off.

What a waste.

You grab a makeup wipe that you had on your desk and wipe off your eye makeup, then everything else only leaving your lips alone.

Then grabbing your phone off your bed, sending a quick text to your friends that you can't make it and you head back downstairs. "Vámonos." Your dad says and snaps his finger as if he has any room to complain. (Let's go.)

He opened the front door and you walked out right behind him as you mumble how annoying he was to which he told you to just calm down and it wouldn't be that bad.

You walked across the street and stepped up to his front door, your dad ringing the doorbell to which you then hear loud footsteps coming from inside.

Then the door opens by none other than the very energetic 8 year old. This was going to be a long night...

You smile down at her and give her a wave which she returns and gives you a toothy grin of her own. "Gabi donde está tu papá?" You asked and she just pointed up. (where's your dad?)

"Se está poniendo sus tenis! Dijo voy a jugar con alguien nueva." She says and goes back inside letting out giggles as she walks to the living room. (He's putting on his shoes! He said I get to play with someone new)

You follow her in and see coloring books, crayons, colored pencils and markers all over the coffee table in front of the tv. "Te gusta colorear?" She asked as she takes a seat behind the table as you make your way around the couch to sit on the floor with her. (Do you like to color?)

"Si me encanta!" You say and her eyes lit up. (Yes I love it!)

Suddenly you hear footsteps coming down the stairs and straighten up as Miguel comes down giving you a bright smile.

And lord did he clean up nice.

He was wearing a black button up with some jeans and black boots, and his hair slicked back. You gave him a smile as he walked over to you and Gabi, who was also shining her big smile. "Papi también le gusta colorear!!" She says jumping up onto the couch and grinning ear to ear. (she also likes to color!!)

He gasps and tickles her sides making her erupt into fits of giggles, "de verdad?" He says and turns to you, to which you give a small shrug and just smile. (really?)

He stops tickling her and she hops off the couch just to sit back down on the floor. You turn to him and he walks around the couch leaning down, and gives you a quick kiss on your cheek to which you return at the same time.

"Thank you so much for this, I really appreciate it." He says and you pull back, waving him off before he continues, "Gabi's on a little sugar rush right now but she'll be calm within the next hour and will want to go to bed right after. She's a very deep sleeper so feel free to use the tv and help yourself to any of the food."

You nod and watch as he bends over and whispers something to her ear to which Gabi nods and gives him a thumbs up. He gets up and mouthed another thank you then walks out the front door.

Maybe this won't be too bad.

And it wasn't.

You ended up coloring two pages of a finding nemo coloring book while she was coloring on a spongebob coloring book. And surprisingly stayed in the lines.

After that she wanted you to play with her dolls to which you felt happy to, it was like reliving your childhood and she was such a sweet kid.

You noticed it was 8pm and helped Gabi put away all her coloring things and let her lead you to her bedroom.

She runs in as you carry her art supplies and she points to a desk for you to leave them on.

You walk over to her dresser where Miguel left a pair of pjs for her to put on and help her take off shoes as well as her glittery shirt and pants.

She then puts on her pjs and goes off to brush her teeth all by herself. Made your job even easier.

She runs back in after a few minutes and plops down onto her bed, "can you tuck me in? Porfis?" She asks and give little puppy dog eyes. (Please)

"Of course." You nod and walk over to her princess bed.

"Como un burrito!" She giggles making you laugh. (Like a burrito!)

So you pull her blanket over her body and let her lift her arms before tucking her in tightly which just made the little girl giggle. You go down and tuck her nicely tight before coming up and passing her the stuffed animal she was reaching for.

A spider.

Weird option but it had cute eyes.

"Goodnight Gabi, sueña de cosas bonitas." You whisper and smile at her as she gives you one back. (dream of pretty things)

You turn off her lamp from her bedside table, then walk towards her door, turning the light switch off before finally closing the door.

You head downstairs, turning off all the lights, and plop down on one of the couches in the living room. You scroll on your phone but then quickly grow bored so you reach over the coffee table and grab the remote control.

You turn the tv on and go through the apps they had and decide to watch 'A Nightmare on Elm Street'. You kick your crocs off then make yourself comfortable before turning to watch the tv.

You got to watch the first scene before your eyes started fluttering and you pass out.

You don't wake up until you hear the jingle of the door and you jump up, wiping your eyes and sitting up to watch Miguel come through the door, surprisingly not shit faced.

You stood up and greeted him with a hug, then a kiss on the cheek as he gives you one back. "Como les fue?" You ask and he shrugs. (How'd it go?)

You then pull away and take quick notice of the lipstick stains along his neck. You look back up at him and he smiles, "estuvo bien." (It was good)

Sure looks like it.

You shrug and smile, "que bien! If you need me to babysit just let my parents know and hopefully I'll be available." You offer and he sighs. (That's good!)

"I really appreciate it," he starts and takes his wallet out which you look at with a confused look, "me vale que era un favor, no me siento bien en no pagarte un poco." (I don't care that it was a favor, I feel bad in not paying you a little bit)

"Y más porque tu papá me dijo que tu ya tenías planes y ni sabías de esto." He says with a sympathetic smile while handing you a $50 bill. (And more because your dad told me that you had plans and didn't even know about this)

You widen your eyes and shake your head, "no te preocupes! Está bien y Gabi se porto bien! No me tienes que pagar Miguel." You say and wave him off. (Don't worry about it! It's okay and Gabi behaved well! You don't have to pay me.)

"Por favor tómalo, me siento mal. Agarra el dinero para que tomes con tus amigas, yo picho." He says, letting out a chuckle at the last two words and you sigh. (Please take it, I feel bad. Grab the money so you can drink with your friends, I'll pay."

His eyes were pleading and it looked like he felt bad but it wasn't even his fault. If anything your dad should be the one paying.

"Si no para la próxima le digo a Gabi que lo esconda en tu ropa." He threatens making you burst out laughing. (If not for the next time I'll tell Gabi to hide it in your clothes)

"Creo que quiero ver eso..." you joke and he laughs. (I think I wanna see that)

"Mis papas me matarán si lo tomo Miguel. De verdad estás bien!" You reassure him and he sighs. (My parents will kill me if I take it Miguel. Seriously you're fine!)

"Eres bien terca." He mutters and you scoff. (You're very stubborn)

A smirk tugs on his lips and you had to fight the thoughts entering your mind. Sure he was fine as hell, you already knew that but you shouldn't be thinking this mid conversation.

"Maybe next time I'll accept it!" You say and shrug as he slides the bill back in his wallet.

"Fine." He sighs in defeat and tilts his head to the side, "but I'll still make Gabi hide it in your clothes just for good measure." He jokes making you smile.

"Yeah yeah." You wave him off and walk past him to the front door.

"Thank you again, I appreciate it." He says turning to face you and opens the door for you.

"Course! Anytime, and now I'll actually know about it." You joke making him roll his eyes.

"Tu papá es algo más." He says and you nod. (Your dad is something else)

"Lo se." You mutter and finally walk out before you waste anymore of his time. (I know)

"Cuidate!" He shouts as you walk out of his porch and onto the sidewalk. (Stay safe!)

You turn back to him and wave before turning back and crossing the street back to your house. You open the door assuming your dad didn't lock it and sure enough it was open.

As you stepped in and closed the door you noticed Miguel was still outside his door, making sure you did stay safe.

So sweet.

You give him one last wave before closing the door and immediately head to your room.

You open the door and quickly close it before taking off your crocs once again and plopping down onto your bed.

And now finally your thoughts could roam free.

His hair was slicked back before he left the house, right now that shit was all over the place.

And the lipstick stains on his neck??

He definitely got his own fun tonight but you couldn't help but feel so jealous.

It's not your fault if you occasionally had a wandering eye whenever Miguel was around.

Or peeking out through your bedroom window to watch him when he mowed the lawn. Shirtless.

Or stare at him longer than you should at random carne asadas the neighbors would host.

It was natural for a young woman to feel attraction towards an older man like him.

Especially with daddy issues but that's besides the point-

He stood out from the other dads in the neighborhood, he was younger. Respectful, kind, helpful.

Everything a woman could ever ask for.

So you couldn't help but instantly felt a twinge of jealousy when you saw the lipstick stains on his neck.

Why couldn't that be you that left them?

At least now you know he looked really good in red..

But at what cost? Feeling your entire being now getting taken over by jealousy of a man you have no right to and probably stand no chance in ever having?

Or touching...

And there came the horny thoughts that always seemed to appear in the back of your mind. He always just did something to you. Your body couldn't help but want him, crave him, his touch.

So you repeated the endless cycle of anytime you see him just having to masturbate. It was becoming a bad habit, but not hurting anyone.

——————

Alas you had to use your own fingers to make you cum and not Miguel's. Again.

But you moved on and let the next day pass. Nothing eventful happened, and there were no Miguel sightings to be found.

That was until you got a text from an unknown number and low and behold it was the man you were daydreaming about all day.

Unknown number

Hey it's Miguel! I asked your dad for your number, hope that's fine but was wondering if you could babysit for me tmrw?

Got scheduled for a late shift at the lab and don't want Gabi home alone🥲

It was embarrassing how quickly you started typing your response but how could you say no?

You're good!! And I'd love to! What time?

No way he could sense your desperation to see him again through text. Right?

You added him to your contacts before he finally texts back.

Miguel💞

Around 6, getting out at midnight so please let me pay you this time

You sigh and quickly type back.

Alrightttt

And sounds good I'll be seeing you guys tmrw:)

And with that no more messages from him came in but he left a like to your second message.

And the rest of your night was uneventful besides the occasional wet dream filling your mind and distracting you.

——————

It was the next day and you were practically counting down the hours until you had to go babysit.

Given you wouldn't even see Miguel for too long before or after but still. You'd have to make do with the amount of time you will see him.

But because you knew you'd just be playing or coloring with Gabi again, you decided to just dress comfortably over trying to impress Miguel for less than five minutes.

So sweats and a tee shirt again but no bra because who the fuck wants to willingly wear a bra for six hours?

Yeah right.

Now all dressed you grabbed your airpods and phone, slipped your crocs on and went downstairs. Saying a quick goodbye to your parents before exiting your house and trying not to skip on over to Miguel's house.

It was 5:45 but you figured you'd get there early just cause, definitely not to possibly spend a little more time with him.

Definitely not.

You walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell. Instantly the door flew open and Gabi opened the door wide so you could come in.

You ruffle her hair as she grins up at you, "cómo estás Gabi?" (How are you?)

"Bien! Apenas comí pozole!" She says as you walk in and she happily closes the door behind you. (Good! I just ate pozole!)

You gasp and were about to respond when Miguel came down. "The pot is still warm si te quieres servir un plato." He says giving you a quick hug and kiss on your cheek. (if you want a plate)

"Might just have to." You reply giving him a smile once he pulled away.

He was wearing a white lab coat, maybe a white button up and you didn't want to look down to see the rest.

His hair was slicked back again but the best part was that he was wearing thick black glasses. It made him look 100x more attractive but you remained calm.

No way to act like a barbarian right now.

Maybe later.

"Okay have her in bed by seven because she's got school tomorrow and no sweets besides pan dulce with a glass of milk." He says and you chuckle as Gabi storms up to him with a pout on her face.

But he didn't budge.

"Tv and fridge are all yours. Make yourself at home and I'll be back by midnight." He tells you then looks down at Gabi.

"Pórtate bien." He says, leaning down and giving her a kiss on her forehead and a hug. (Behave)

"Ya se papi, ya se." She says and playfully rolls her eyes. (I know dad, I know)

He gives her a warning look before blowing her a kiss as he walks to the front door. He gives her one last look and she just waves him goodbye. He chuckles and opens the door then shuts it behind him.

"Can we watch Bluey?" She looks up at you with pleading little eyes and you nod as she sprints to the living room without another word.

So you end up watching Bluey with Gabi for a good nine episodes before you were slowly losing yourself into this little kids show. The little accents and cute storylines just got to your heartstrings.

And with fifteen minutes left to spare, you wait until the episode Gabi was watching was over before hitting the back button leading you back to the disney+ home screen.

Gabi whined and you shook your head, "no more, you've gotta get ready for bed!"

She groans but nonetheless heads upstairs with you trailing behind her. She gets dressed into her pjs then heads straight to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

She's literally an angel.

No way Miguel would have a hard time finding a sitter for her. She's every babysitter's dream. Besides the occasional sarcasm she got from her dad.

But nonetheless still an angel.

Finally she's in bed and you're tucking her in, once again passing her the stuffed spider, who you learned she named Gabri, after her favorite uncle.

You then shut off the lights and walk out of her room, closing the door gently.

You walk back downstairs turning off the lights before heading to the living room. You plop down on the couch and get comfortable, this time putting on a blanket that was on the armrest because it was getting cold.

You play a random movie, snuggling the blanket to your face to warm yourself up when you realize it smells like Miguel.

Maybe he was sitting there earlier?

You breathed in and breathed out, feeling so relaxed. Your eyes start fluttering and it's the second time you pass out at Miguel's place. 

You get woken up by screams coming from the tv, probably wasn't the best to play a scary movie but oh well.

You stretched and let out a yawn before switching positions and laying down so your legs were stretched out over the whole couch. You laid your head on the arm rest and wiped your eyes before taking your phone and airpods from your pocket.

You put them both in your ears before just scrolling through your phone. You move the blanket so it was mostly by your chest and stomach, exposing your legs because you weren't cold but still wanted it on you.

Just then you inhale his scent again and he must've been wearing something expensive because it smelled so good.

You then got the absolute best idea imaginable. And with Miguel being away for another two hours along with Gabi sleeping and probably snoring heavily in her room, you would be good.

So you put some music on, a mix of The Weeknd and Lana Del Rey to get you in the perfect mood. But as you closed your eyes your imagination immediately ran wild and there was no stopping you.

You spread your legs and slowly ran a hand over your body, playing with your tits then softly pinching your hardened nipples. Then trailing it up and down your stomach before it lands on the waistband of your sweats.

You slipped your hand in and began by just tracing along your inner thigh, then went deeper. You led two fingers down to rub your clit, only a couple circles before going down and rubbing your slit over your panties.

Your arousal was already building up, and this blanket was helping a ton. You just imagined Miguel on top of you, not caring if he crushed you, just craving him above you. The way he'd be looking down at your eyes while he toyed with you. Had his way with you.

You needed him so desperately, his touch, his mouth, his fingers. Absolutely everything and anything he'd give you.

Your fingers made their way back up to your clit and you started rubbing faster circles against it while bucking your hips up, imagining it's Miguel's fingers.

A moan slipped past your lips and you tried your best to keep quiet as your fingers worked fairly against your bundle of nerves.

"Miguel-" you whispered before letting out a shaky breath as you held onto the blanket tightly with your left arm.

Just the thought of this big, smoking hot dilf climbing on top of you was almost enough to make you explode.

Fortunately your thoughts went broader than that.

Not only is he tall, and big but his cock would most definitely be the best thing you'd ever lay your eyes on. He'd be really thick and you'd probably struggle keeping him inside you.

He'd stretch you out to absolute perfection and you'd tighten around him so good he's be moaning out your name from how good your pussy feels.

You felt your slick seep through your panties and it only made you more relentless. You slipped your hand under your panties, and brought your two fingers to tease your hole.

You'd need the practice.

You dipped your fingers into your folds, just letting your fingers get soaked before finally slipping them both in making you whine.

You bite your lip to shut yourself up before slipping them in harshly, imagine that's how Miguel would fuck you. You feel yourself clench against your fingers as you start to fuck yourself immediately fast, needing him so fucking badly.

His cock would fill you up so good and you wouldn't mind if he came inside. You wouldn't want him to waste any of it.

You cover your mouth with the blanket let yourself moan into it, as you breathe him in with every inhale. You let out mumbled moans of just his name, as you start to fuck yourself harder, your immersion working better than ever tonight.

And it might've manifested into itself when you felt a gently tap on your shoulder which made you open your eyes, and freeze in fear.

It was Miguel.

"W-w-what are you d-doing back so e-early?!?" You ask as you felt your heartbeat increase rapidly.

But you couldn't seem to slip your fingers out. Unable to move and staring blankly ahead and not to your right as Miguel's body loomed over you.

"Finished what we needed to do faster than expected." He says and you could feel his gaze on you. It was hard to miss.

And you were growing more and more nervous by the second. "And this is what you're doing huh?" He whispers and it doesn't help your nerves at all but does make you clench against your fingers.

"I-I- I'm sorry-" you apologize feeling your body flush with embarrassment but get interrupted.

"A good hour before I was meant to come home too. Que pensaste?" He snarls and you hold your breath. (what were you thinking?)

Shit.

"Aww and gripping this poor blanket for dear life." He says in that teasing tone but you don't have it in you to look at him.

"No me lo esperaba de ti." He whispers and you take a deep breath. (I wasn't expecting this from you)

"P-perdón-" (S-sorry)

"Shh stay quiet..." he whispers and see him going down to his knees out of your peripheral.

"Let me appreciate you in some other way for what you've done for me tonight." He murmurs softly in your ear.

He then brings a hand down between your legs, before placing his hand on top of yours, fingers still buried inside you. Your lip was quivering and you couldn't believe this was happening.

And you're not dreaming.

He then pulls it away only to slip it under your sweats then panties before sliding his fingers between your folds. You whimpered and bucked your hips up, always a needy mess.

"What did I stay? Stay quiet." He coos in your ear, bringing his other hand up to your throat, lightly squeezing.

You finally turn your head to look at him only to smile at him before he leans in to kiss you. You kissed back immediately and he lets go of your throat and instead cups your jaw as you moan into his mouth. He pulls away making you pout, "No hagas que me repita nena." He whispers and you nod. (Don't make me repeat myself baby girl)

"Take your fingers out for me." He whispers and you nod, immediately listening.

You slip your fingers out and take them out between your legs. "Good girl." He murmurs and move his fingers down, teasing your hole with the tip of his finger.

"Miguel- fuck-" you moan then cover your mouth with the blanket again.

"Need more?" He coos and you whimper, nodding.

"Tell me." He whispers and you move your hand away.

"Please- I need you so fucking badly- por favor, te necesito- mmm te necesito tanto Miguel." You plead and he slides his fingers inside you. (Please I need you, I need you so much)

"Feel good huh baby?" He asks and you nod, unable to speak as his fingers start pumping into you fast.

You clamp a hand over your already covered mouth and try your hardest to keep quiet but his fingers filled you up. Two fingers, were able to feel fulfilling inside you.

"Estas tan hermosa mami." He whispers in your ear and you let out a muffled whimper, your walls clenching against his fingers. (You're so beautiful)

He left gentle kisses along your jaw, and neck while pumping his fingers faster and harder. You rolled your eyes back as you kept quiet, or tried to.

You bucked your hips up and tilted your head to the side as Miguel began sucking on your skin, leaving marks then kissing them after. Your walls clenched against your fingers and you could feel that familiarity in your lower abdomen.

"Te vas a quedar bien calladita para mi verdad?" He whispers making you gasp and nod. (You're gonna stay real quiet for me right?)

He starts fucking into you harder and curls his fingers up, hitting that sweet spot of yours with every thrust as you feel your legs begin to shake. Your eyes began to flutter and you tried to keep your eyes open, you wanted to how he'd react to you cumming.

You then feel his thumb rubbing fast circles against your clit which only makes it harder for you to stay quiet. You bit your lips and held all your moans in as your climax hit and your entire body starts to shake. You covered your mouth and breathed heavily as he fucked you slower, moving his thumb away.

You close your eyes and let out heavy pants as he stops and lets his fingers stay inside. "You did so good baby... how's that instead of money?" He whispered and you just gave him a drunken smile unable to have any thoughts.

"Still gonna leave you with both." He coos and kisses your cheek softly.

He pulls his fingers out slowly, then slips them out your juices dripping down and definitely staining your poor panties even more.

He slips his fingers out of your panties and sweats and then brings them up to your mouth which you instantly put into your mouth. You tasted yourself as your eyes fluttered and your breathing finally had calmed down.

You then let go of his fingers with a plop and he leans in, kissing you again but passionately. Tongue in your mouth, also wanting to have a taste of you. After a solid fifteen seconds he pulls away and murmurs, "Thank you for babysitting again. If you want you can stay the night, te ves muy cansada... pobrecita." (you look so tired, poor girl)

[mc-i-r]

Disposable Heroes

Part one, Part two, Part three, Part four AO3 link

A/N: hi yes so sorry for how late this is, it turned into a huge monster of a fic that I’m still working on but I figured posting the first part wouldn’t hurt. This is based on this post by @liightsnow, @acowardinmordor, and @00biscuit while back and I decided to expand that concept a bit and here we are. I'll be tagging anyone that seemed interested in the concept at the end of the fic! Warnings are below but I just wanna say that Steve is struggling with his sexuality in this one so most of it comes from that. This will absolutely have a happy ending, just not right now. Enjoy the angst!

Tw: internalized homophobia, homophobic language, mentions of canon violence, dissociation, panic attacks

———

It’s a Sunday afternoon when he realizes it. Steve is sitting on his couch, eating a shitty frozen meal and watching a random movie on TV when it hits him. The kids haven’t asked him for a ride in two weeks. Two Saturdays have passed and there was not one call— either on the phone or over the walkie— from any of the kids. Not even Dustin, who has seemed to make it his life’s mission in the past couple years to annoy Steve into an early grave.

It’s not like he hasn’t seen them at all. He still practices basketball with Lucas on Thursdays, even though the season is long over. His weekly dinners with Claudia and Dustin are still going strong every Wednesday. Joyce seems to invite him over for dinners every couple weeks. From the outside, everything seems fine. And maybe it is, but Steve’s noticed things.

See, he’s not as stupid as people think he is. He may not be academically smart but he can read. However, instead of books, it’s people. He can read their micro-expressions, notice little signs in their body language that help him understand the person. He can tell when people are nervous when they avoid eye contact, can tell how anxious they are when they distract themselves by picking at their fingers. It’s how he’s so good with the kids. They’re in the stubborn stage of their teenage years, the time in which the only answer you’ll get is ‘I’m fine. Leave me alone’. But he can tell if there’s something on their minds, if there’s something eating away at them.

He can tell that Mike’s anger and pointed barbs are directed towards himself, how he’s struggling with something he can’t quite admit to himself yet. How Max is frustrated with her body, with accepting help, because she’s always had to rely on herself and putting that much trust in someone else has never been an option for her until now. How Lucas is trying to find joy in doing something he loves again, because his love for basketball has been ruined by Carver and his trusty band of assholes. How Dustin is trying to deal with almost losing Eddie, how he’s processing the feelings of almost losing a brotherly figure along with one of his friends. How Will is hiding part of himself, struggling to accept it in the same way Mike is. How El is trying so hard to find her new normal, to adjust to getting her life— her father— back.

There’s another thing he’s noticed, however. It’s that the kids are obsessed with Eddie. Steve from a couple years ago would feel jealous of Eddie, and would try to hold it against him. Now, though, Steve just feels… sad. The kids constantly talk about how cool and badass Eddie is for still being himself despite all the shit Hawkins has thrown at him. They talk about how Eddie takes them places, gets them little trinkets for their nerd game, and takes them fun places. Eddie does all these little things for the kids, lets them just be kids, and really, Steve can’t be mad at him for it. He tries to let them have fun, but his constant worrying overwhelms them. It brings them down. Eddie doesn’t do that. He joins right in with them, basking in the fun and letting himself go. Steve… can’t. Not with all the shit he’s seen. Letting his guard down is something he can’t afford to do anymore.

He sighs down at his meal, chucking it on the coffee table as he loses his appetite. His glasses land next to the disposable plastic tray, sliding across the finished wood surface from the force of his throw. He rubs harshly over his face, hands digging into his eyes until he sees stars.

Steve knows he’s not perfect. Hell, it took an interdimensional monster trying to kill him in order for him to realize that he could be a better person. That the only person truly able to change his life is himself. He used to think he had no choice in his life— whether it was his parents' high expectations of him or his friends trying to mold him into their perfect little plaything— but he knows better now. He knows that he shouldn’t have become King Steve, that he shouldn’t have hurled all his hate and anger towards other people who didn’t deserve it. He knows he shouldn’t have called people names or slurs, that he shouldn’t have spray painted lockers or ripped up books or shoved people against hard asphalt. He knows that, but knowing it was wrong doesn’t erase the fact that it happened. That Steve did those things and hurt people.

Part of him knows that his past is what made the kids turn towards Eddie. Why wouldn’t they? Steve was a bully, thought he was hot shit in school and made it everyone’s problem. Eddie was simply himself. His unabashed, unashamed self. He stood on cafeteria tables, made dramatic speeches, and shared his opinions to anyone and everyone who would listen. He’s so genuine and so, so much better for the kids. He teaches them how to be themselves, how to shove off the hate and embrace their weird side. He’s perfect for them, and Steve knows deep down that this is good for them. The kids need a good role model, one they can rely on, and Eddie has his herd of little sheep to teach and protect. It’s perfect. They’re perfect.

Steve remembers the time last week at the Byers-Hopper house when their little obsession truly became real. They were waiting for the bread to finish baking in the oven, and Steve saw that Will was seated alone in the living room. Joyce and Hopper were in the kitchen, talking and keeping a lookout so the bread wouldn’t burn. Jonathan and El were listening to music in his room, the synth and guitars echoing down the hallway. So, Steve decided to finally talk to Will. It’s not like they don’t talk ever, just… not much. Will is quiet, blends into the background, and Steve never felt like the kid would be comfortable with him trying to get in his business. However, he needed to ask the question that had been on his mind for a while.

Steve sat down on the couch next to him, keeping a fair amount of distance between them, and rested his elbows on his knees. Will was reading a comic, the cover full of bright colors and words, not paying attention. Steve sighed, pushed his glasses up, and ran a hand through his own hair.

“Hey, um… can we talk for a sec?”

Will startled a little, like he didn’t realize Steve was there, and closed his comic. He nodded, and Steve tried not to feel bad about the hesitation in his eyes.

“Is there something going on that I don’t know about? Like with the others?” Will’s eyebrows furrowed, a confused expression taking over his face.

“Um.. what do you mean?”

“Just… have I done anything to them to make them mad? I just… I don’t know, I feel like I’ve done something but I don’t know what,” Steve confessed. He must have looked as distraught as he felt, because Will seemed to soften at his explanation a bit.

“Why do you think that, Steve?” Will asked softly, and Steve had a moment of realization that Will seemed years older than he looked. Steve sighed, and explained that the kids haven’t really been hanging around him much and instead like to spend time with Eddie. He’s quick to clarify that he doesn’t mean anything bad by it, just wants to know what happened. It was Will’s turn to sigh, and he looked at Steve with something akin to sympathy.

“Steve, I don’t say this to be mean but… Eddie just relates to us more, you know? He shares more interests with us, and he seems to get us better,” Will expressed. His eyes widened and he hastily added, “it doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you! Just… it’s nice to have somewhere else to go, you know?”

The rest of the evening was spent with Steve silently eating his dinner, Will’s words echoing through his head as he munched on half-burnt bread.

Steve decides then, TV dinner half-eaten and work vest still on his shoulders, that he’s going to make this better.

The next day, Eddie comes into Family Video to pick up some movies, definitely for a movie night judging by the titles— he seriously doubts a metalhead would willingly watch The Goonies, The Dark Crystal, and Ghostbusters by himself on a Saturday night. Eddie bounds up to the register, movies in hand, and does a dramatic bow as he presents them to Steve.

“I wish to borrow these, my liege,” Eddie declares, his voice deep and in a horrible mockery of an English accent. Steve scoffs and rolls his eyes, unable to hide the small grin on his face at the other man's theatrics.

Eddie looks so effortlessly pretty, his hair tied back in a ponytail and his tattoos exposed through the large arm holes in his homemade tank top. Steve shakes his head to get rid of those thoughts and takes the movies to check them out, ignoring the late fee balance on Eddie's account. A glance at the man in front of him, who is bouncing on his toes and looking around the store, gives Steve an idea.

“Hey, is Hellfire still going on?”

Eddie snaps his attention back to Steve, looking a little startled to be asked such a thing.

“Uh… yeah, it's still going on. We have to play in Gareth’s hot ass garage since school is out but we’re making it work. Why d’you ask?”

“Oh, uh… the kids complained awhile back that they didn’t have a good spot to play anymore and I was just wondering,” Steve explains. Eddie raises an eyebrow at him, and Steve can feel him staring. Can feel him looking at him closely. Too closely. He clears his throat and looks back down at the counter, pushing his gold, wire-framed glasses further up his nose. “I uh… I actually wanted to offer up my place? My parents aren’t home much”— more like never— “and I’ve got plenty of space for the gremlins and the other guys. Plus, my A/C works and I’ve got a shit ton of snacks. I’ll stay out of your hair and-“

“Actually uh…” Eddie cuts him off with a strained voice. Steve looks up to find his face contorted like he ate something sour, and he knows what his response is going to be before he opens his mouth. Eddie wipes a hand over his mouth before shoving it in his pocket. “Yeah, the other guys just… really wouldn’t want to be there.”

Steve nods— tries not to let the denial sting— and looks down at the movies in his hands. Ignoring how they shake, he sets them on the counter and slides them towards Eddie.

“That’s okay man, I get it. I need a break from the little horrors anyway,” he huffs out, the words digging their way into the pit in his stomach. He puts on his best customer service smile and looks up at Eddie, finding him looking a little wary. Eddie hesitates, as if debating with himself on whether or not to say anything, before rapping his knuckles on the counter in a little rhythm and picking up his movies. An awkward smile finds its way to his face, and Steve thinks it strange and out of place. It’s so.. un-Eddie-like. The pit grows deeper.

Walking backwards towards the entrance, Eddie throws a little salute his way before turning and swinging out the door. A belated “see ya, Harrington” drifts through the closing door in his wake.

Steve slumps over the counter when he’s gone, holding his head in his hands and feeling the childish urge to cry make its way up to his eyes. Even after everything— after walking through hell together, dragging his lifeless body out of the Upside Down as his blood dripped down his back and soaked through his clothes, standing vigil at his side until he woke up two weeks later— Eddie still seems to hate him.

But Steve… he feels the opposite. He has this overwhelming desire to be with Eddie. To hang out with him in the back of his van, drinking sodas and eating snacks as they look out over Lover’s Lake while the sun sets. To talk to him until the early hours of the morning until there’s nothing left to say. To go for drives late at night and listen to his loud music on the radio while holding hands over the center console. He has feelings for Eddie he’s never had before. Not for any past romantic conquests nor any girl. Hell, not even for Nancy. He’s never felt this intense need to be near someone before, and it scares him. It truly terrifies him.

He’s not homophobic— his platonic soulmate is a lesbian, for Christ's sake— but the fact that he feels this way is just… wrong to him. How is Steve Harrington, ladies’ man and charmer extraordinaire, into dudes? What is he, like, half gay? It just doesn’t make sense, doesn’t seem right, for him to feel like this. He sighs into his hands, digging his palms into his eyes until he sees stars. He can’t be thinking about this now, he can’t be thinking about this at all. He needs to shove it in the box in the back of his head where all the hard feelings go, waiting and festering to be dealt with later. He needs to, but he doesn’t know if he can.

Fuck, he needs to talk to Robin. Shit- can he though? What if what he’s feeling is a fluke or something? What if it’s just in his head because he’s desperate? What if Robin thinks he’s making fun of her and won’t take him seriously? It’s not fair of him to throw all his problems on her, even if he thinks she could help. It’s not her job to look after him, to take care of him. He can do that himself. He can figure this out himself.

Distantly, the words of Richard Harrington play in his ears. About how being gay is wrong, how it’s a disease. How it’s a sickness that slowly takes over until there’s nothing left. How it’s a disgrace.

He remembers sitting in the living room with his parents on a rare occasion in which they were home, watching the news channel as it talked about an epidemic spreading through young men. His father scoffed at the screen when they started talking about potential cures.

“Cures? They should just let those fags die. They brought this on themselves, you know. Typical of them to complain about the fucking consequences,” Richard had spat out at the block TV, standing to refill his bourbon. Steve had clenched his fists at his side, his already stiff posture straightening still. He felt angry at his fathers words, something pure and burning in his gut.

He didn’t know what it was at the time, but maybe he should’ve known. Maybe him being queer shouldn’t be as much of a surprise as it feels. Maybe he’s always known and just couldn’t bring himself to admit it. Maybe that anger he felt at his father’s words was partly on behalf of himself, too.

A wince shudders through him as he remembers how that night ended.

Steve had stood up from the couch, watching the dark liquid flow into the crystal glass in his father’s hand.

“What’s so wrong with being gay? I don’t understand how you could just.. hate people like that. Hate them for just existing,” Steve countered. His father had frozen at his words, slowly setting down the decanter with a solid ‘thunk’ against the metal tray where it belonged and turned to face him. His face was slowly gaining a reddish hue, a sign of the anger rising within him.

“What did you just say?” He demanded, voice scarily calm but laced with an icy rage. Steve swallowed.

“What… What's wrong with being gay, sir?” Steve hesitated, voice failing him. Richard had downed the glass of bourbon before throwing it at Steve, the crystal shattering on the mantelpiece behind him and sending shards flying.

“What’s wrong, Steven, is that you think it’s okay. No son of mine will think like that, not on my watch,” his father boomed, taking long strides towards him. Steve didn’t dare move, only watched his fist grow nearer as he punched him high on his cheek. He fell to the floor, arms trying to protect his head but it was no use. Richard had ripped his arms away, gripping the front of his shirt and making Steve hover above the ground.

“I didn’t raise a fucking fairy, Steven,” he spat. “A faggot.” Steve recoiled, physically feeling the vitriol his father aimed at his face. Richard had sneered, pulled him close and whispered, “Never forget that, Steven,” before shoving him harshly onto the ground and walking away. Black had clouded the edges of his vision, and he laid on the plush rug until it cleared up. He looked over, found his mother silently watching the TV and sipping her wine, and begged with his eyes for her to help him. To say something. Anything. She didn’t, and Steve had to haul himself off the floor, grasping the couch when his vision swam, and stumbled his way to his room.

The rest of that weekend was spent in his room, gingerly cleaning his face and the couple places where glass had cut him on his arms with a wet washcloth and soap. It was the first time he had ever gotten a concussion. He was fifteen.

He remembers replaying the fight over and over again, feeling like those barbs were directed towards him, too. In hindsight, maybe they were. Maybe his father just knew. Knew he was queer long before Steve ever did. Maybe that’s why he’s always so angry with him, so… disappointed. A groan escapes him and he runs a hand through his hair. He’s been thinking way too damn much for it to be this early in the day.

God, he really wishes Robin was here. He knows he can’t talk to her, but it would be nice just to have someone here to keep him from spiraling and drowning in his thoughts. He pushes himself off the counter and goes over to the cart where the returns sit, hoping that busying himself will occupy his thoughts. He sets a few on the shelves when what Eddie said earlier barrels into him full-force.

“Yeah, the other guys just… really wouldn’t want to be there.”

Jesus fucking Christ, he’s stupid. Of course the other Hellfire guys wouldn’t want to be at his house, they probably still see him as King Steve. Most people do, nowadays. Only the ones he went through hell with know he’s different now, that he’s changed. So really, he can’t fault them for being against the idea of Hellfire at his house. He wouldn’t believe it either if he was in their shoes.

Then again, wouldn’t Eddie or the kids try to convince them he’s different? That he’s not a dick? Shit, he’s been through four apocalypses, three concussions, and survived Russian torture— surely they would give him the benefit of the doubt, right? He’s dropped the bad influences out of his life, found better friends, better family— or can he even say that anymore?— to be with. Wouldn’t they try to stick up for him? Or... is he just not worth it?

Steve clenches his eyes shut, willing his bubbling emotions back down, and grips the movie in his hands so hard the plastic begins to creak. The little voice in his head, one that sounds suspiciously like Robin, tells him to breathe. He does. Deep inhale, hold, long exhale. Over and over and over again until he’s calm, until his head is clear.

He knows what he needs to do now: apologize. If it's one thing Steve Harrington knows, it’s how to apologize. Hell, he’s done it more times than he can count. He knows how to repair burnt bridges and how to get past the tough exterior of a person to pull at their heartstrings for sympathy. He knows the key; he just has to make himself useful. If he can provide things for the kids, for Eddie and the Hellfire crew, then they’ll want him around. That’s how it’s always been. That’s how it is with his parents, with school, with his past friends, and now his current ones. He vaguely recalls his junior year art teacher saying that, "once is an accident, twice is a coincidence, but thrice is a pattern." Which means this, this is something he has to make right.

With a plan solidified in his mind, he goes back to work refilling the shelves with movies, brainstorming ideas to get his family back.

Over the next week, Steve becomes a one man show. He offers up more rides, more movie nights, more free reign of his house and his pool and his car and his money and himself just to make the kids happy. He picks up extra shifts at work just to get extra spending money for them, knowing that they go through twenty bucks in no time.

But… it doesn’t work. Because bit by bit, ride by ride, movie marathon by family dinner by game night by post-nightmare phone call, it becomes painfully clear. Everyone puts on a mask around him. One that says they’re happy to see him, that they’re glad he’s here, but he knows it’s a lie. This, really, shouldn’t be much of a surprise. People don’t stick around him much, so why did he think this was any different?

Maybe it’s because he was finally himself around them, he finally opened up and showed a bit of his true self, and was still rejected. Still pushed away. He wasn’t cowering behind a mask this time, he was just Steve. But it wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t good enough.

To their credit, it starts off slow. Casual comments that are cut off quickly, kicks under dinner tables and pointed throat clearing. It’s one instance during game night where it all clicks.

The Monopoly board is spread out before them in the Byers-Hopper living room. Steve, of course, is losing. He’s not good with investments and savings and he keeps landing on the goddamn ‘jail’ space but he doesn’t really care, not when he’s finally having fun with the kids. He groans when the dice make him land on one of Mike’s properties, shuffling his fake cash to pull out the tax money.

“C’mon this game is totally rigged. How the hell am I losing to a bunch of teens?” He grumbles as Mike proudly snatches the money from his hand. Max snickers from her place beside him, her pale blue eyes rolling as she looks at him.

“You know, if you actually used your brain then maybe you wouldn’t be losing. Ever think of that?” She quips, and Steve huffs. Leave it to him to be called out by a fifteen year old.

“I’m surprised there’s even a brain in there to begin with,” Dustin states. He’s seated across from Steve. “I mean, why else would he have-“

His comment is cut off by Lucas smacking his arm. Dustin looks at him like he’s about to protest when Lucas raises his eyebrows, looking pointedly from Dustin to Steve and back again. Steve can’t hear from his position so far away, but he swears Dustin mutters “shit” before crossing his arms and looking down at the board. Steve looks around at the rest of the group, noticing how none of them seem to want to look at him, choosing to focus rather intently on the cardboard before them.

The rest of the game is filled with awkward silences. Steve can feel them looking at him when he’s occupied, and it makes him feel like shit inside.

It’s on the drive home when it hits him. He is the one that doesn’t fit into their group, into their family. They’re slowly but surely removing him and replacing him with Eddie. With someone who fits. With someone better. It hits him so hard, so fully, that he has to pull over on a quiet street to sob in his empty car.

The first time it's fully solidified in his mind is at a barbecue at the Byers-Hoppers house. Robin can’t come, her aunt from up north is visiting for the weekend and she has to stay home. Steve walks through the house, planning on saying hello to Joyce before joining the party outside. He finds Joyce talking low to Eddie in the kitchen and he pauses in the doorway, watches how Joyce laughs at something Eddie says. How she places her hand on his arm as her eyes crinkle with the weight of her laugh. Eddie is smiling, open and wide, with a flush high on his cheeks that stains his skin pink. His dimples are on full display and it takes pure willpower for Steve not to go and poke at them, to settle his thumb in the divot of his skin.

Joyce leans close to Eddie and says something under her breath, making him blush purely red now and shush her, causing another wave of laughter to ripple through the both of them. The kitchen is filled with warmth, the afternoon sunlight streaming in through the sheer cream-colored curtains that line the two windows as laughter fills the room. It’s light, it’s happiness, it’s love. It’s something Steve hasn’t felt in years.

Steve knocks on the doorframe, waggling his fingers in greeting. They both turn to look at him, and all that warmth from before flees the room. If he hadn’t just seen the thin rays with his own two eyes, he could have sworn even the sun went down as well. He feels a stab of pain in his heart, so sharp it makes his breath stutter. He fights to put a smile on his face, briefly clearing his throat and praying his voice doesn’t sound as faint as he feels.

“Hey, Ms. Byers. Eddie,” he greets. Steve runs a hand through his hair, just to give himself something to do. “Just wanted to say hi before I go outside.”

Eddie’s face has gone completely slack, the only thing convincing Steve he didn’t hallucinate the entire exchange earlier is the flush that had yet to leave his cheeks. In fact, Eddie looks even more red now that he’s made his presence known. Joyce, to her credit, has a small polite smile on her face.

“Thank you, Steve, that's very kind of you,” she replies. She casts a glance at Eddie out of the corner of her eye, something Steve has noticed a lot of people do to each other when he’s around. “You go on outside now, okay? I’m sure the kids are missing you.”

Steve holds back his remark of “yeah, I actually doubt that” and nods, leaving the two of them in the kitchen as he continues down the hallway. He tries hard not to let the harshness of their quick whispers dig further into his already injured heart.

Once outside, he’s greeted by no one. Dustin and Lucas are discussing something rapidly to one another, Dustin gesturing wildly with his hands as Lucas nods along and adds details. Max and El are sitting on a lawn chair together, Max seemingly teaching El how to braid her hair. Mike and Will are sitting in the grass a bit away from the group, shoulders touching and heads bowed together as they talk quietly to one another. Steve smiles softly at them, knowing.

He makes his way over to Hopper, who is manning the grill with a beer in one hand and a spatula in the other. Steve waves and gives him an awkward little smile, and Hopper nods his head, pointing towards a cooler with his beer. Steve grabs one, popping it open and taking an, admittedly, big first swig. Hopper doesn’t notice, or at least doesn’t comment, and Steve looks out over the people he still considers his family. He catches Dustin’s eyes, hoping to have someone to talk to, but the kid only looks away and continues his conversation.

So now Steve is here by himself, slowly nursing a beer, and trying to keep his emotions in check.

It’s just that… he doesn’t know what he did. Was he too overbearing or did he not care enough? Was he too pushy or too distant? Was he just annoying them? Was he just an inconvenience? Did they ever really like him or did they just put up with them out of necessity? Or because they felt bad?

He takes another sip of beer, hating the way it tastes on his tongue but it’s better than the bile slowly rising in his throat. All he wants is for someone to see him, to see who he truly is and like it. To stick around. To stay.

And it’s true, he does have Robin, but sometimes she can’t give him what he needs. Call him a romantic but Steve wants that love, that connection, that intense feeling you get with a partner. He craves it more than anything. He wants to touch, to taste, to feel someone else.

Eddie. He wants Eddie.

A voice interrupts his thoughts.

“Kid, will you go get me a plate for the burgers?” Hopper asks, his gruff voice shoving all of his mushy thoughts aside. Steve nods, sets his beer on top of the cooler, and makes his way inside. He silently dreads ever walking in that room again, dreads having to feel the chill from before. However, the scene in the kitchen is drastically different this time. Joyce is by herself, Eddie nowhere to be seen, and is mixing together slaw in a big tupperware bowl.

Steve knocks on the frame again and is met with a small smile from the older woman. It’s infinitely more warm than the one he was met with when he got there, and he thinks it’s partly due to the lack of a certain metalhead in the room. Joyce sets down her spoon, wiping her hands on a nearby towel, and holds her arms out.

“C’mere, honey,” she murmurs, and Steve tries not to let her soft tone get to him. The last thing he needs is to cry in front of everyone. He walks forwards into her hug, leaning down a little to wrap his arms around her properly, and sighs when she rubs her hands up and down his back. Steve clenches his eyes shut, taking in stuttering breaths that he knows she can hear but thanks every god out there that she doesn’t comment on it. She taps her hands twice on his back and pulls away, reaching up to push some of his hair off his forehead and Steve wills himself to not lean into the touch too much.

“Sorry for not saying a proper hello earlier, I was a bit preoccupied. Eddie- well, that’s not my thing to tell but he needed some help with something and… well, you get it,” she smiles, laughs a little, and Steve smiles back.

This. This is what he wishes he could have with his parents. This lightness, this love. He never will, he knows that, but the little moments like this with Joyce, the way she hugs him and cares for him, are ones he treasures. Ones he wishes he could have everyday. Joyce is a wonderful mother, and part of him wishes he could have her as his own. Hell, she’s been more of a mother to him in the four years he’s known her than his mother ever has. But he knows that isn’t fair. It isn’t fair of him to put his parental issues on her or anyone else. So he doesn’t, and shoves his hands in his pockets instead.

“It’s okay, Ms. Byers, I get it. Sorry to interrupt you two, though,” he apologizes. She waves her hands in a shooing motion.

“Oh don’t apologize for that, honey, it’s okay,” she smiles, then hesitates. “I do want you to promise me something, okay?” Steve nods, and Joyce places her hands on either side of his face. “Promise me you’ll be careful with people, be gentle. Not everyone can be treated the same, some people… they’re special.

“Sometimes, it’s better to listen. Promise me, Steve, that you’ll always listen, okay?” She asks, and Steve has to swallow before he responds.

“I promise, Ms. Byers,” he replies, and she pats his cheek. Her smile has grown, and her eyes have softened.

“I love you, Steve, you know that, right?” Joyce asks, and it’s like the world has stopped moving. He didn’t know that, not really. Sure, he knew she liked him but he didn’t know she…

He doesn’t realize he’s tearing up until Joyce coos at him, wiping away a few stray tears that have escaped with her thumbs.

“I-I didn’t know you- I’m sorry, I don’t-“ Steve stutters out, but Joyce shushes him.

“You don’t have to apologize, Steve, it’s alright,” she insists. Her thin arms pull him into another hug and he buries his face in her shoulder. The angle is a little awkward, but it’s a comfort Steve hasn’t had in ages so he stays. “It’s gonna be alright.”

Her small hands rub up and down his back as he holds back tears. He regulates his breathing, taking in deep breaths and letting them out slowly, until he’s sure he won’t cry. He pulls back from the hug and wipes at his eyes, sure that they're red-rimmed and a little puffy, but Joyce only smiles that warm smile and pats his cheek again. Steve smiles at her, the first genuine smile he thinks he’s had in awhile, and it feels good. To smile and know it's real.

Joyce turns to the counter behind her and picks up a plate, handing it to Steve. His brows furrow, and he hesitantly takes the offered crockery.

“How did you-“

“I had a feeling,” she interrupts him with a wink. “Now go on before Hop burns the yard down.”

Steve smiles and goes back outside, handing the plate to Hop and ignoring his grumble of “took ya long enough”, before picking his beer back up and taking a much needed swig. A few minutes later, they’re all eating. Eddie has joined Dustin and Lucas in their rambling, all three of them loudly talking over one another. Steve watches them; wishing, wanting, yearning. Joyce bumps her shoulder into his, making him swivel his head to look down at her. She smiles, almost knowingly, and Steve blushes. He clears his throat and looks away, focusing on fixing his burger rather than whatever the fuck that was.

He sits alone away from the group, catching occasional glances from Joyce, Dustin, and Hopper. Joyce is concerned, he can tell that much, and part of her almost looks sad. Dustin looks conflicted, like he can’t decide if he wants to be mad from a distance or just come right up to Steve and say it to his face. Steve wouldn’t be surprised if he did the latter. Hopper, to Steve’s complete unsurprise, looks uninterested and, frankly, fed up with this whole situation. Steve doesn’t blame him, he is too.

After the food is gone, and dessert is served, Steve heads inside to help clean up. He washes dishes quietly with Joyce, while she dries them and puts them away. As he finishes up the last plate, Will comes into the kitchen.

“Hey, Mom? The party wanted to play some board games, is that okay?” He requests, and Steve can feel Joyce soften beside him. She smiles.

“Of course, honey. Make sure you ask the girls what they want to play, too, okay?” Will rolls his eyes and smiles, a mannerism Steve notes he definitely got from Mike.

“Got it, Mom,” he replies, and runs off. Steve turns back to the sink, realizing he’s been scrubbing the plate well past the point of clean, and rinses it off.

“I um.. I think I’m going to head out, Ms. Byers,” he begins. He hands the plate to her. “I’ve got a shift tomorrow and uh… I don’t want to intrude or anything.”

He doesn’t mention that he doesn’t want to repeat the last game night, where everyone kept glancing at him like he was a bomb set to explode at any moment. He doesn’t say that he can’t handle their stares for any longer than he already has.

“Oh, are you sure? You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want to,” Joyce offers, but Steve shakes his head.

“I really should be going, sorry.”

“Alright, dear. Let me walk you out,” she insists, moving to take off her apron.

“I’ll walk him out, Joyce, don’t worry about it,” Hopper's gruff voice interrupts from the doorway. Steve swallows and nods, drying his hands off on a towel. He looks at Joyce, seeing her share a glance and a smile with Hopper before looking back at him. He smiles, finally beginning to think that maybe… maybe things will be okay.

“Thank you, Ms. Byers. For everything,” he expresses. He leans down to give her a hug, her arms quickly hugging him back.

“It’s alright, dear. You come to me if you ever want to talk, you hear?” Steve pulls away from the hug.

“I will, promise,” he hesitates. Steve looks down at his hands, shaking from where they’re clutching each other, and takes a breath. “I… I love you too.”

He looks up right as Joyce pulls him into another hug. He laughs a little, and she pats his back before pulling away with a “be safe”. Hopper clears his throat from the door and Steve takes a step back, nods to Joyce, and follows the other man outside.

They step out on the front porch together, and Steve is prepared to continue walking to his car when Hop places a hand on his shoulder. He stops, and turns to find the man looking at him seriously.

“Son, I want you to promise me something,” he grumbles, and Steve begins to feel a strange sense of deja vu. While Joyce’s tone was soft, Hopper’s is deep and leaves no room for hesitation. He vaguely has a thought that this is what his father would have been like if things were different. If he were different. Steve nods.

“Promise me you’ll fix our shit, alright? I don’t wanna get in the middle of… whatever the hell this is but promise you’ll be better, okay?” He commands, and all the thoughts Steve had earlier about thinking things would be okay fly out the window.

“Y-yes, sir,” he stutters out. Hop claps his shoulder, mumbles a “get home safe”, before pulling a pack of smokes out his pocket and lighting one up. Steve turns, shoves his shaking hands in his pockets, and walks to his car.

Getting in his car is a blur of unconscious actions. He’s driving down a barely lit backroad when he registers that his eyes are stinging, and something warm and wet is dripping down his cheeks. He pulls over on the side of the road, shifting his car into park, and he sits there. He reaches up with a shaky hand and wipes his cheek, his hand coming back wet and shining in the faint glow of the moon. The sight breaks him, and an ugly sob rips its way out his throat. He chokes on an inhale as tears fight their way out, and he hugs his arms around himself as a sad semblance of comfort. His forehead finds purchase on the steering wheel, and his tears stain the leather before dripping on his lap.

He cries because he knows he’s the problem, that he’s the one fucking up. He cries because everyone thinks so, everyone knows. The kids know. Eddie knows. Joyce knows, but she’s just too kind to say it to his face. Hell, even Hopper knows. He cries because he doesn’t know what he did wrong. He cries because he doesn’t think anyone really wants him to fix it.

It’s the second time on a drive home from the Byers-Hopper house that he has to pull over and cry.

He struggles to inhale a deep breath and sits up, harshly wiping his tears away with his hand, uncaring that it rubs his skin raw and red. Sniffling, he puts his car in drive and goes home. Toeing his shoes off at the door is the only thing he thinks to do before he stumbles his way upstairs and collapses on his bed, snuggling into the thin comforter and falling into a fitful sleep.

After a slow shift at Family Video the next day, Steve returns to the darkness of his home with a plan. He can still be useful. They may not have to know, but he can still do something to help. To try and save them before they need to be saved. He can be a preventative measure for them, can stop them from getting hurt before they even know they’re in danger.

He shrugs off his work vest, throwing it on his desk chair as he searches his closet for an old sweatshirt. He finds one, the front adorned with white block letters that read ‘Tigers Swim Team’ and tugs it on. His nail bat finds purchase in his hand as he tucks a flashlight in his back pocket. The walkie Dustin gave him is hooked in his belt loop, just in case. He leaves all the lights on in the house and shuts the door, skirting around his house to begin his walk in the woods.

After four bouts with the Upside Down, he doubts that they’re in the clear, that it’s finally over. He thought it was the first time, then the second, and by the third he was skeptical. Now, though, he doesn’t know what to think. He wouldn’t be surprised if there was a round five, or six, or seven. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if it never stopped. But each and every time, they were unprepared. They were surprised, and it nearly cost them every time. But if Steve could prevent that surprise, give them all a heads up before it becomes a big problem, then maybe— just maybe— it’ll come in handy. He’ll come in handy. He’ll be useful again.

So, he walks the woods of Hawkins. His feet crunch the dead leaves piled underneath trees as he trudges through the woods. The flashlight shines long shadows on the ground in front of him, lighting up the pale gray bark of trees and making the eyes of rodents and raccoons shine amber and red.

A rustle sounds a few feet away and he jumps at the noise. He pauses and stands still, listening for the shrill chittering of demodogs or the heavy, thudding footsteps of a demogorgon. He waits, and his flashlight reveals a small fox walking out from behind a tree. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and continues walking.

His feet carry him to Lover’s Lake, the water lapping lazily at the shore with the warm summer breeze. Out here, the lights from town are distant, making the stars shine brightly and reflect in the water. Steve stands there, watches as the artificial light of his flashlight reveals the small ripples on the surface of the water, and waits.

He waits for a lumbering figure to emerge out of the murky depths, to claw its way onto the shore and stalk off into the woods. He waits for chirps muffled by water and splashing to sound in his ears as four-legged creatures swim to the beaches. He waits for the screeches of demonic bats to echo off the trees around him as they fly out of the water and take to the sky. He waits, but it never comes. The lake stays silent.

So he walks.

He follows the road leading to the lake out, letting it take him to the highway that leads out of town. His feet stop as they come across a crack in the road, the crack he took in the other world to get Eddie home safely. The crack that is closed over with black tar, leaving a dark line on the ashen gray asphalt. He remembers clawing his way out of that crack, Eddie’s lifeless body over his shoulders as he slowly bled out.

Nancy had driven her station wagon over, opening the back so he could lay Eddie down as they rode to the hospital. She had asked Steve to drive so she could patch him up, but he refused. He couldn’t leave Eddie, not when he finally got him out. Not when he was barely hanging on. So she threw the first aid kit she had stashed in her car at him and drove to the hospital. Steve had done his best to stop the bleeding, the stark white cloth immediately turning red when he pressed it to Eddie’s skin. They almost lost him. But they didn’t. He’s alive.

Eddie. Eddie.

His head swivels to the forest next to him, the one that leads straight to the trailer park, and he runs. He jumps over fallen trees, feet thudding against the dry earth and leaves as his breath picks up. Orange street lights shine through branches as he draws nearer, and he only slows his pace when he breaks out from the line of trees. His feet swiftly take him to the sight of Eddie’s old trailer, the vacant lot standing out against the fullness of the park. The wooden front steps are still there, partially broken and shifted. The grass has yet to grow in fully, bare spots of dirt showing through the green. His shoes crunch on the gravel as he takes a step closer, inspecting the ground and poking at it with his bat as if it would move. As if the gate would open up just by him being here.

It doesn’t. Steve steps back.

He turns to leave the park, eyes wandering and finding a familiar cream-colored van parked at a trailer a few rows away. Eddie and his Uncle were granted a new trailer for their trouble, really the bare minimum they deserve after all the shit they went through, but they took it in stride. Eddie and Wayne spent the first few weeks after spring break making it into their new home once Eddie was released from the hospital, and Steve had done his best to help them out. But he knew they needed time alone, time to heal, so he let them be. He hasn’t been back there since then.

He kicks a stray piece of gravel, watching as it tumbles a few feet away and disappears into the grass, as he makes his way out of Forest Hills. Houses blur by as he walks the residential streets, only stopping when his own comes into view. Steve sighs, and walks up the concrete driveway, through the large wooden doors, and into the silence of his house. He doesn’t bother taking off his shoes, reveling a little in the dirty footprints he leaves behind on his mothers’ ornate runner that covers the length of the hallway. The analog on the stove tells him it's a little past three in the morning, and he sighs. Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, he fills it up with water before shuffling out of the kitchen. He flops on the couch, sips his water, and waits.

He waits for the sun to peek over the trees in the backyard, casting long shadows on the curtains that cover the windows and glass doors. He waits for the warm rays to shine through the large window in the living room, the one that faces the road, and light up the rug that rests under the coffee table in soft hues of yellow. He sits his empty glass on the table. He waits. And he gets up.

He goes upstairs, changes his shirt, and grabs his vest. Steve slips the walkie off his belt loop and places it on his desk, the flashlight landing right beside it. He props the bat next to his chair, and Steve looks at it, looks at the bent nails sticking haphazardly out of the wood and how it splintered in places from too much force. How some of the nails are covered in dried, blackened goop and dirt. How it's sharp and dangerous, a weapon. How it’s chosen to protect.

At this moment, Steve feels like the bat. The rough wood is his exterior, the splinters through it are the cracks. The holes in his facade. The places where people got too close, where people hurt him. The nails are what makes him strong. They’re the kids, Joyce and Hop, Eddie and Robin. They’re his family. They mold him into a weapon meant to protect, to keep them safe.

But just like Steve, the bat isn’t needed until it’s necessary. Until the world is ending. But until that time comes, the bat is left out of sight. It’s hidden away, moved from place to place just in case, but never used. Never wanted.

Steve walks out the door.

His shift at Family Video passes by like every other day, slow and full of know-it-all customers that never seem to understand that he can’t magically summon movies out of his ass whenever they ask. Robin comes in around lunchtime, and they spend the rest of their joint shift making fun of the ridiculous movie covers that adorn various romcoms. He goes home alone, sheds his vest, and once again walks the town of Hawkins.

He does it again the next night. And the night after that. And the night after that. Until it’s been a week and Steve hasn’t slept for more than a couple hours a night. He doesn’t mind, just means there’s less nightmares to wake him up before sunrise.

Less nights where chittering and the thuds of heavy footsteps strike fear down to his core. Less nights where the chill of fog and night air pierce his skin, warring with his senses against the hot breath hitting the back of his neck from deadly flower-shaped mouths. Less nights where the harsh scraping of monstrous nails against rusted metal and the echoey bangs of heavy, meaty bodies against solid bus walls fill his ears. Less nights where he can feel the thick, choking air of the tunnels, can feel the wispy particles filling his lungs and coating the inside of his mouth.

Less nights filled with muffled Russian echoing in his ears, the harsh texture of rope around his wrists, arms, and chest. Less nights where the sickening crunch of fists against bone and the metallic taste of blood in his mouth linger for hours after he’s awoken, shallowly breathing and pleading to be let go. Less nights where he can feel the blood in his teeth, coating his tongue and dripping down the back of his throat, and he has to run to the bathroom to puke the phantom feeling away.

Less nights he wakes up alone, empty house hollow around him. Less nights he cries to himself in the silence of his room, wishing, hoping, yearning for something. For something to happen, to change. For something to get better. For him to get better.

On the eighth night, he finds his feet have taken him to the edge of Hawkins. The brown road sign reads ‘Leaving Hawkins! Come Again Soon!’, and it stares at him from a few feet away. He looks past the sign at the stretch of road that disappears around a curve, trees following the line of asphalt and distant street lights lighting up their leaves with an orange glow.

He thinks about what it would be like to leave Hawkins, to pack up his clothes in his car and leave town. To follow the road and go around that curve, to not worry about ever coming back. No one needs him here, not anymore, so what’s holding him back?

Maybe this will fix him.

Robin might miss him for a bit, probably curse him and his whole family when she figures it out, but she’ll move on. She’ll find someone better. Hell, she’ll probably go to Eddie too. They already have some sort of secret friendship thing going on between them anyway. Really, he wouldn’t blame her.

Eddie probably wouldn’t care. Shit, he might even throw a party celebrating the fact that he’s gone. Steve snorts at the thought, closing his eyes and taking a breath.

Would it really be so bad if he just disappeared?

But then there’s the kids, left behind with no one to protect them. Sure, Robin and Eddie and Nancy are here, but Nancy is off to Emerson in the fall, Robin surely bound to follow in similar footsteps, and Eddie has made it well-known that he’s getting the hell out of here. If everyone is gone, who will be here to protect them when it comes back?

He rakes a hand harshly through his hair, pulling a bit at the ends and hating how greasy it feels on his fingertips. He can’t think like that, he’ll just worry himself into a panic and that’s the last thing he needs right now; a panic attack on the side of the road. He turns around, walking back towards town as the sky fades into light. He gets home right when sunlight begins burning the tops of the trees and collapses on the couch, sleeping until his noon shift.

He’s exhausted when he gets home, having to close up Family Video after a ten hour shift by himself, but he knows he can’t sleep. Not now. So he does what he usually does now when he gets home and grabs his essentials for his rounds, something that’s become routine for him.

He shrugs off his work clothes, replacing it with what has become his patrol outfit; the old swim team sweatshirt and a faded, ripped pair of light blue jeans. The sweatshirt is filled with holes, the baggy sleeves having caught on briars and branches alike, that allow the white of his shirt to show through. The jeans share a similar fate, the knees scraped up and the denim fraying from the unhemmed edges.

His white Nikes are stained a gray-ish brown from the nightly treks through the woods, small bits of leaves and debris sticking to the laces and in the grooves of the tread. The flashlight finds its place in his back left pocket, an extra pair of batteries landing in his front pocket after an incident a few nights ago where his flashlight died on him out in the middle of nowhere— he was forced to stumble through the woods until the sun began to rise and he was able to find his way back home. He didn’t sleep that night.

The nail bat is crusted with dried bits of mud sticking to the slowly rusting metal, shredded bits of leaves and undergrowth tangled in a green and brown mass. Clumps of dirt litter the floor under the bat, and likely mark a line in the hallway from his room down to the front door. Steve hopes it's still there if his parents come home.

It’s dark outside, only the street light at the end of the driveway illuminates the concrete and stepping stone pathway to the front door. Steve steps out on the front stoop, taking a deep breath of cool summer night air, and starts walking.

He walks out onto the street, uncaring at this point if anyone sees him or not. What does he have to lose? Hopper would probably tell him he’s stupid— something he’s well aware of at this point— and tell him to go inside. Or maybe he would drive him home, take the bat, and leave.

A small, traitorous part of Steve wants Hop to find him. Wants him to ask what the hell he’s doing walking around at night alone in the dark. Wants him to coax him in his old beat up truck and take him back to the Byers’ house. Wants some of Joyce’s hot chocolate as he sits on the couch and explains what he’s been doing, what’s been going on. Ask, desperately, why everyone hates him. Wants them to tell him he’s wrong, that no one hates him. That it’s just a misunderstanding.

But it doesn’t happen. All of that is a lie.

It’s a lie Steve has secretly been telling himself under the cover of darkness alone in his bed, lying awake and exhausted but unable to sleep. It’s a lie he tells himself when he sees any of the kids so he can act normal, act okay. It’s a lie he tells himself when Eddie grins at him, wide and gleaming, eyes sparkling with the afternoon sun beaming in from the storefront windows.

It’s those grins, those looks Eddie gives him sometimes that almost convinces him the lie is fake. Like Eddie is sharing an inside joke with him, only Steve doesn’t know what it is. Eddie doesn’t come around often but when he does… god, it’s like he’s the only one in the room.

Eddie looks at him with his whole body, always focusing on him so wholly and touching in some way. A hand on his bicep, an arm slung around his shoulder, even his arms wrapped around his waist one time. He was friendly, they were friends, until he wasn’t. Until Steve did something stupid that he still can’t figure out and Eddie is avoiding him.

The crunch of gravel under his sole brings him back into his head a little. He looks up, finding the pale orange glow of a lamp through a trailer window, and curses. His feet have brought him to where his mind always seems to go these days: Eddie.

He stands outside of the trailer, watching the way the little bits of weeds around the base shift and sway in the wind. The sky is filled with patches of clouds, light gray ripples standing out against the black sky from the glow of the moon. Steve isn’t completely sure how he got here, only that he started walking and didn’t really… stop.

Wayne’s truck is gone, leaving only Eddie’s cream-colored van among the gravel and grass. Which means Eddie is home and, judging by the light in the window, awake. Steve has a fleeting thought that he should turn around, walk back home, and try to forget he ever came here. Try to forget that he didn’t mean to, that his head and his heart are traitorous beings that have conspired against him to bring his body to the one place— one person— where he isn’t welcome. He tries to move, to will his legs and his feet to catch up with his brain and the urge to run. But they don’t. They stay frozen to the ground, rooted in place as if they belong here. As if he belongs here.

A voice cuts his thoughts off, one that he could pick out in a crowd full of people. His eyes snap to the front door of the trailer, now open and spilling warm light onto the wooden steps that lead down to the gravel drive. A figure grows near, tall and lanky and Steve feels like he’s trapped. His thoughts get louder, yelling and screaming at him to run run ruN RUN RUN-

Hands on his shoulders. Eddie’s face in front of him.

Eddie looks panicked, his dark eyes wide and dancing around as if searching Steve's face for… something. He must not find it, because the two little lines between his brows appear and his mouth starts moving. It’s all muffled, like he’s trying to talk through glass. Steve blinks.

“-ington? Steve,” Eddie’s pleading voice finds his ears as he shakes his shoulders, the fog in his head dissipating as the strained way his name falls from his lips. Steve hums. He blinks again.

“Oh,” he breathes out, voice barely louder than a whisper. Eddie is here. He’s in front of him. He can see him. He’s here and he can see and Steve shouldn’t be here he needs to go-

“Stevie, are you okay?” The fear in Eddie’s voice cuts off his train of thought— something that seems to happen a lot nowadays— and Steve feels every sensation return to his body. The heavy hands on his shoulders, soft and warm and missing their signature rings. The distant chill of the night air on his exposed bits of skin seeping away at the small amount of space between them. The faint puff of air on his face from the man before him. The fact that all of those things are from Eddie.

Steve clears his throat, swallows. Tries to focus his eyes on Eddie’s face.

“I’m fine, Eddie. I um.. sorry,” he trails off. He tries to smile, at least give something to reassure him, to keep him from asking questions. Steve doesn’t think he could answer them.

To his surprise, Eddie lets out a breath of relief, the fear dissipating from his eyes as they clench shut and his head drops. His shoulders move with his lungs as he takes a breath before looking back up at him.

“Jesus H. Christ, you scared the shit outta me, Steve. Thought…” he trails off. His voice wavers. “Thought you were gone. Like… like her.”

Oh. Chrissy. Fuck.

“Shit- sorry, Eds, I didn’t even realize- fuck, I’m so sorry,” Steve pleads. He takes in his surroundings, realizes he’s been standing out here, alone, for who knows how long. He needs to leave. “I-I should go.”

Eddie’s brows furrow, and he tilts his head. “You don’t have to leave, Stevie, it’s fi-“ he cuts himself off.

Steve looks up at that, unsure of when he stopped looking at Eddie, and takes in his pinched expression. The one that’s trained to the ground. The one that’s trained towards-

“What the fuck is this?”

Shit.

“I-it’s not what it looks like, I swear!” He begs, voice sounding unfamiliar even to his own ears. It’s raspy and breaks after a few words. When was the last time he really spoke to anyone today?

“I don’t wanna hurt you, Eds, I really don’t- please, believe me,” he pleads. “It’s just for protection! I don’t-“

“Why are you covered in mud, Steve?” Eddie cuts him off, voice strange and cautious and his hands tighten their grip on his shoulders. Steve knows he doesn’t look the best, knows that his clothes are dirty, but he looks down at himself anyway. His eyes focus on a leaf stuck to his shoelace. He shrugs.

Eddie moves in front of him, a quick thing that Steve suspects is him shaking his head. He mumbles something he can’t hear, voice only a rumble in his throat but Steve knows enough to know that people only talk under their breath when they’re mad. When he’s done something wrong.

He pulls away. Eddie’s hands drop off his shoulders.

“I-I should go. Sorry for bothering you, an-… and keeping you awake,” Steve stutters out, clearing his throat when his voice breaks. He chances a look at him, finding concern written on Eddie’s face. It softens when they make eye contact, and Eddie shakes his head.

“I wasn’t asleep, Stevie. Don’t really, uh.. sleep much, these days. I usually just wait around for Wayne to get home to catch a couple hours. Doesn’t feel safe here by myself, you know?” Eddie confesses, mouth turned upwards in a small, sardonic smile. Steve nods. He does know, he’s never felt safe in his home. With or without people. He’s been going through it for years, long before the events of ‘83. He doesn’t say any of that though, doesn’t think he has the right to.

Eddie steps towards him, closing the bit of distance Steve made between the two, and rests his hand on the arm holding the bat.

“Come inside, Steve,” Eddie requests, voice low and soft. Eddie’s smiling at him. It’s that soft, small, Eddie smile. One that Steve has only seen a handful of times. It’s asking him to say yes, and Steve… he’s weak. So, so weak.

“Okay.”

Eddie’s smile grows.

His hand wraps further around his arm, tugging him towards the open trailer door and Steve feels betrayed that now is when his feet decide to move. He follows Eddie, watching the way he’s glancing at him the entire time. Eddie pauses at the doorway.

“Steve,” he whispers, and Steve looks at him. His hand travels down his arm, causing goosebumps in its wake despite the layer of fabric between their skin. It pauses over the hand still gripping the bat, thumb brushing along his knuckles. “Let it go.”

Steve looks at him, searches those dark brown eyes for fear or hate or anger but finds none. He only finds care. Concern. Love.

It’s terrifying.

He loosens his grip and Eddie takes it from him, the comforting weight of the bat replaced with the warmth of Eddie’s hand. He props it just inside the door to the trailer and leads him over the threshold by the grip on his hand. He’s led over to the couch where a hand on his back urges him to sit down. Steve does, and instantly sinks into the well-worn cushions.

“I’ll be right back, okay? Just gonna get you some water,” Eddie informs him, squeezing his hand briefly before releasing his grip and turning the corner to venture into the kitchen. Steve watches him go, the way the baggy and worn band shirt hangs off his frame. The way his sweatpants are bunched up at the ankle as if they’re too big for him. The way his hair is pulled into a messy bun at the back of his head that swings a little when he walks away. Even now, he’s beautiful.

Shit. He’s so gone for this man.

Eddie returns with a glass of water and flops down on the couch beside him, pressing the cool surface of the cup into his palm. He takes it with a shaky hand, his other joining it to help stabilize the glass. It doesn’t work.

He takes a small sip of water, the liquid feeling like heaven against his dry throat. They sit in silence until Steve finishes half the glass. Then, Eddie speaks.

“Why were you outside at two in the morning, Stevie?” His voice is gentle, and it makes Steve want to cry. He swallows.

“I- I don’t know,” he deflects, lies. Anything to not talk about it.

The harsh sound of a mock game show buzzer startles him, and he turns to find Eddie with his hands cupped around his mouth. Steve grins and lets his head drop, and Eddie nudges his shoulder. He takes a deep breath, focusing on the surface of the water in his hands.

“I have to keep them safe, Eddie,” he confesses. Eddie stays silent, hand gently rubbing his forearm. “It’s what I need to do. What I have to do.”

Silence stretches between them, then, “who, Steve? Who do you have to keep safe?”

‘You,’ he wants to say. ‘You almost died. It’s never been that close before, not in the four years this shit has been going on. You and Max almost died, and I wasn’t there to protect you. I wasn’t with you and Dustin to keep you both safe, to help fight off the bats and urge you through the gate. I wasn’t with Max and Lucas and Erica, wasn’t there to fight off Carver and save Max just a little bit earlier. I wasn’t there, but I should have been. Carver should have beat me to pieces, not Lucas. It should have been me the bats got to, not you. It should have been me, it should have been me, it should have been me.’

Hands fall over his as Eddie takes the glass from him. He didn’t realize his hands were shaking that bad in his revere, causing the water to spill over the sides and onto the brown carpet below them. The glass thunks on the coffee table before Eddie rests his hands over Steve’s, stills their shaking.

“Hey, talk to me, Stevie,” he practically begs. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Steve looks at him, sees the worry in his eyes, and wets his lips with his tongue. Doesn’t miss the way Eddie’s eyes flicker down at the movement. He clenches his fists.

“Please don’t tell Robin,” he pleads. If she found out about this, if she knew, he wouldn’t be allowed outside alone ever again. She would worry about him, keep him under lock and key to make sure he wouldn’t do anything stupid. She would stay with him during the night, insert herself firmly by his side until she was sure he was okay. She would make him sleep in his own bed, trapped between his own walls. Trapped in his own house. He can’t stand that place, can’t handle the echoey walls and empty rooms. Can’t stand not being able to do anything for anyone. Can’t stand to be useless.

He’s just wasting time right now. He shouldn’t be here, talking to Eddie, when he could be checking the gates. He should be out there trying to save people, not himself. He should be trying to save his family. He could already be too late. It might have already come back while he was distracted and they could all be gone. It could have been waiting until he was occupied, waiting for an opening to strike. They could be in danger right now. They could be dead.

“Alright, I can do that. I won’t tell her but… Steve, why-“ Steve cuts him off by standing up on shaky legs, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Steve?”

“I need to go, Eddie, I need to- they could- I need to go,” the words tumble out of his mouth, words he isn’t quite sure even make sense but he doesn’t care. He just needs to get out.

Steve walks over to the door, eyes locking on the bat propped there, before he hears Eddie stand up behind him. He turns to find Eddie holding his hands out in front of him like he’s trying to placate a wild animal and, at this moment, he kinda feels like one. His heart is beating too fast and he can feel his breathing quicken. His throat closes up as panic claws its way upwards and clouds his vision, muffling his hearing. Eddie’s mouth moves but Steve can’t hear it through the cotton in his ears. He backs towards the door, hating the fear in Eddie’s eyes as he does so.

His back hits the wall next to the door and he turns, hand finding the rough wood of the bat almost instantly, before he runs out the door. The small “sorry” he lets out is an afterthought, thrown over his shoulder right before the trailer door slams shut behind him and his feet crunch on gravel as he runs towards town.

His blind panic takes him to Dustin’s house first, finding all the lights turned off save for the faint glow of the hall night light through sheer curtains. He stays there for a minute or two, waiting for the sign of flickering lights. Nothing comes.

A couple streets over, he stops in front of Lucas’s house, finds the same thing. Dark. He stands there and waits. No flickering. He runs.

The Wheelers. Dark. He waits, no flickering. He runs.

The Byers-Hoppers. Dark. Waits. No flickering. Runs.

Max. Dark. Waits. Dark. Runs.

Robin. Dark. Waits. Dark. Runs.

His house. Light.

They’re safe. He collapses.

He sits heavily on the front stoop, bat falling to the ground and knocking against the concrete with a thud. His knees come up to his chest and his arms wrap tightly around them as he rasps for breath, the air coming in short, quick bursts. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of his calves, hard enough to leave bruises. His forehead rests heavily on his knees and his eyes sting, welling with tears as the fear slowly fades away.

He sits outside, struggling for breath until the sun begins to rise, and waits. When the sun finds its way over the trees, he makes his way inside to get ready for his opening shift.

The bat finds a new home in his trunk.

Taglist: @tea-beloved @starry-eyedlune @hyperfixationgoddess @zerokrox-blog @nicovania @invisibleflame812 @chaoticvictorianspirit @justforthedead89 @dacremontgomeryay @vhelt @adhdsummer @nerd-and-nervous @i-have-three-feelings @mimicori @remuslupinisthevoiceofgod @solliesolesito @romanticdestruction @vanillatwist @bowl-o-queerios @grimmfitzz

(If you want to be added or removed please let me know!)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 7

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: another week...

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

When Bucky leaves, you feel less than relief. It’s easier to breathe without him around but your heart continues to race. You don’t move until you see him drive away. You steel yourself with the manufactured lie before you go back inside. 

As you do, you’re surprised to find Roxie beside your mom, both of them close to the front window. You sigh. Were they watching? You guess you can be thankful Bucky hadn’t done more than talk. 

Your mom faces you with a sheepish grin, “so... did you get it?” 

You look between her and your sister. Roxie has her phone in hand and an arch in her eyebrow, “I’d die for a boss like that.” 

“I...” you glance the screen before she can hide it. Oh. She had a picture of him pulled up on Google. So, they both know exactly who he is. 

“He must be really hands on if he came all the way down here to offer you a job,” Roxie tilts her head. 

“That’s the sign of a good boss,” your mom insists.  

“Really, I think his eyes were the kicker. So blue.” 

“Rox,” your mom nudges her. “A man like him, he’s got line ups, I’m sure. Besides, she’s too young for him.” 

“Well, I’m older,” Roxie smirks, “maybe she can get me a job too.” 

“Er, uh,” you wring your hands, “I should start dinner.” 

“You didn’t say if you go the job,” Roxie challenges. 

“Yeah,” you utter softly, “I got a job. Just cleaning.” 

“Hey, it’s better than nothing,” you mom assures as she comes to you. She puts her hands on your shoulders, “I’m so proud of you.” 

“Mom,” you try not to look pained as you return her smile, “it’s nothing. Really. A cleaner.” 

“We all gotta start somewhere.” 

“Yeah,” Roxie scoffs, “most of us a lot sooner.” 

“Oh, don’t be such a downer,” your mom lets you go to spin on your sister, “don’t rain on her parade.” 

“Whatever. I’d rather hand out flyers than clean toilets,” she rolls her eyes. 

You purse your lips and shy away. You feel worse that they believe you so easily and why wouldn’t they? No one would think that someone like you would merit such a preposterous offer from a man like Bucky. You still can’t really believe it. 

Maybe it’s just some twisted hallucination. You could wake up tomorrow and be just like you were before. You never thought you would long for that but now, being alone, being the loser, that feels safe. Being noticed, being someone, that’s terrifying. 

🃏

You take your time making dinner, a brief escape from reality. The distraction keeps you busy enough that your chest stops thrumming, yet your nerves are still spastic. You’re not very hungry once it’s done but you make yourself eat. 

Roxie heads off for work shortly after you gather up the dirty dishes and your mom goes to change into her pajamas. She startles you as you scour the pan you used to bake the chicken. You splash yourself and hiss. 

“Sorry, hon, I was just coming to check on you,” she leans against the counter, “you’re nervous, aren’t you?” 

You shrug, to fraught to answer. 

“You get restless, I can tell. You do everything just to keep from fidgeting,” she says, “it’s going to be okay. You’ll be just fine and you’ll see, it’ll be nice to have your own money.” 

“I know, mom,” you murmur, turning your face down to the sink, “it’s not that I don’t want to work, I just... I guess it’s the change that freaks me out.” 

“Change is good, even if it’s scary,” she says. “You’ll see.” 

“Mm,” you hum and try not to shatter, “I just want to help out.” 

“Hon, you worry about yourself. Please--” 

“No, I owe you.” 

“Owe me? I’m your mother. I just wish I could give you more,” she smiles and squeezes your arm. “If you’re not some busy working girl, we’ll celebrate on my day off.” 

“Sure,” you accept grimly. 

She leaves you and you’re silent as you finish up the dishes. You put them away and wipe the counters. When you finish, you shut off the lights. You say good night from the doorway and retreat into your room. Tomorrow. That’s all he said. That’s the only detail you go before he strolled off. 

You grab your phone and fall back on your bed. All you want is to lose yourself in a fic or a discussion board or even just scrolling mindlessly. You can’t. It’s like he’s taking over everything. There it is, that little icon you rarely see, a new message.  

You pull down the menu and stare at the preview. Two hours ago. You’re surprised he didn’t show up to check why you hadn’t answered. Again. You will at least need to send something before the night is over. 

‘Hey doll. I’ll send a car tomorrow morning at nine. Just bring yourself.’ 

You shudder and stare at the blue bubble around the text. Oof. Nine? That’s early for you. You suppose it’s about time you break that bad habit. 

‘Sorry. I was making dinner. Nine is good. Thank you.’ 

You hit send and put your phone down. You slide your laptop across the bed and open it up. You’ll watch something. That old BBC drama you found on the free streaming service has been pretty interesting, but you think you only have one episode left. That’s good, you can’t be up all night. 

Your phone buzzes. Shoot. Alright. You can do this. You have to get to it. You swipe up your phone again, surprised to find it’s still shaking.

Oh no. He’s calling! 

You panic and nearly hit decline before you manage to drag your thumb the other way. You put the phone to your ear, unable to muster even a squeak. What do you say? 

“Hey, doll,” Bucky’s voice drawls from the speaker, “hope I didn’t interrupt dinner.” 

“No, er, we’re done.” 

“Ah, and are you alone?” 

You frown, “yes?” 

“Good, good. Isn’t that sweet of you, cooking dinner for your family. That’s what I like about you. You take care of those you love.” 

You gulp. You don’t know what to say. 

“What was for dinner?” He asks as you hear a soft rustle. 

“Um, chicken and potatoes,” you answer bluntly. It’s an easy question. 

“You’re not busy or something?” He wonders. 

“Uh uh,” you shake your head even though he can’t see, “I’m just... in bed.” 

“Early night, huh?” He asks. 

“I guess, I was going to watch a show.” 

“Right, right,” he clicks his tongue as something taps followed by other indiscernible movements, “you in your pajamas? Bet those are cute?” 

“Not... yet,” you croak. 

“Mmm,” he purrs, “I just got out of the shower.” 

“You... did?” 

“Getting ready for tomorrow,” he explains, “gotta admit, I’m a bit impatient. You’ll see that about me, doll. When I want something, it’s hard to wait.” 

“Uh, oh...” you stutter out. 

“For you, I can,” he vows, “doll, do me a favour.” 

“A favour?” You echo thinly. 

“Mmm, yeah, I want you to get in your pajamas and send me a picture. Just to tide me over,” he coaxes. 

“A picture?” You open your eyes wide and gape at the wall. 

“Sure, just a taste. I wanna know what I should imagine next to me when I lay down.” 

“What?” You squeak, shocked by his insinuation. Imagining you?! 

“I can’t help myself. It’s lonely here.” 

“I...” you pick at your lower lip, “one sec. I... I gotta...” 

You put the phone on the bed and push yourself off the mattress. You trip on your own feet and hope he can’t hear you stumbling around. Your pajamas are kind of silly. You don’t really have any sexy ones. Maybe if he sees them, he’ll change his mind. 

The only matching pair you have have snoopy on the top and a large check bottom on the pants. You fish them out and change. It’s okay. He can’t see you at that moment. Still, it feels like he is watching you. Just as his presence has lurked around you all day. 

You go back to your phone and fumble around, “sorry, I... just... figuring out the camera.” 

You hear his timbre but can’t make out his words from the small speaker. You open the camera app and flip the camera. You move around, trying to take the pic, and lean the phone on the top of your dress. You angle it and mutter to yourself as you struggle to set the timer. 

You take several pictures before you’re not entirely discontent. You look awkward in all of them. The pants, like all your pants, are too long and gather around your feet. You don’t know how to pose either. Quite frankly, you look frightened in every single one. 

“Alright, I think...” you babble and find your way into the conversation and choose the least egregious frame. You hesitate and close your eyes as you push your thumb down on the arrow. 

You bring the phone back to your ear, “are you still there?” 

“Always, doll,” he assures and once more, the phone shifts around noisily. “Mm, Snoopy? I like it. More of a Woodstock myself but... Mm mm mm, you look good.” He pauses as you wriggle and your cheeks burn hotly. “Sexy.” 

“No,” you burst out without thinking. 

“No? You don’t think I’m telling the truth?” 

“I didn’t... say so, it’s... just pajamas,” you sniff, “sorry, I didn’t mean to argue.” 

“Doll, relax. Thing about you, you don’t even have to try.” 

You don’t reply. You have no idea what to say or even if you should believe him. You saw the picture, you look in the mirror every day, you know what you are. It still feels like some weird game. 

“Here, gimme a sec,” he says from his end. 

More rustling and the noise of a digital shutter. Your phone vibes shortly and you pull it away from your cheek. You squint at the screen as it lights up and an image buffers in the conversation. 

“Huh, uh, it’s not loading. My phone is--” you nearly swallow your tongue and gasp. 

Oh gosh. It’s a picture of him in almost nothing. Just a towel. His long hair is damp and pushed back and his dark beard contrasts his bright blue eyes as he aims the lens of his phone at himself in the mirror. His stomach is ridged with muscle, his chest trimmed with hair that trails down, and the towel hangs low, giving a generous hint of his pelvis. The vee above the fabric feels overly salacious. 

“Doll?” You hear the low tone of his voice and make yourself look away. You raise the phone again to your ear. “Everything okay? You got really quiet.” 

“I...” 

“You like what you see?” He asks coyly. 

You put your hand to your forehead, your flesh is fiery. It’s so much so fast. Just that morning, you’d convinced yourself you would never see or talk to him again. And now he’s sending you pictures like that and... flirting with you? 

“Yes,” you eke out then cover your mouth. He snickers and you clear your throat before you peel your hand away, “sorry, I mean... you’re... you... you must work out.” 

“Doll, you’re too adorable,” he says. 

You don’t say a word. You’re mortified. He knew you saw that. He knows you’ve seen him like that. He sent it! 

It’s all too much. You’re lightheaded. You rub your chin and shiver. 

“I should... sleep.” 

“Mm, me too,” he says, “hopefully I dream of you.” 

You giggle nervously, “really?” 

“Sure, doll. All I can do is dream. Until tomorrow,” he sighs, “and what about you? You gonna dream about me?” 

You squeak and stammer, “I... I... I...” 

He laughs again, “you really are so cute in those pajamas.” 

“Please,” you blurt out, “delete it.” 

“Now, why would I do that?” He challenges. 

“I don’t... know.” 

“I love it,” he insists, “you’re not deleting mine, are you?” 

“N-no, no, I’ll keep it.” 

“Hm, good,” he intones, “it’s all for you so don’t you go showing me off to all your friends.” 

It’s your turn to laugh. “Promise, I won’t.” If only he knew you don’t have any friends to show. 

[cloudypariah]

How to perpetrate and sabotage your own kidnapping: A guide for dummies.

- The creation of the board (and its subsequent discovery)

Summary: Step One: host a brainstorming session with your teammates on how best to kidnap your future abductee. Step Two: have said abductee show up half an hour into the session and begin correcting your entire plan. Step Three: realise at the beginning of their impromptu presentation the target has absolutely no idea that they’re the target. Step Four: fail anyway.

Pairing: Dark!Poly!Task Force 141 x fem!Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Content tags: Dark content - Discussions around kidnapping, tense situations. If this is not your cup of tea, please go and find something different might better suited your palate. This is an 18+ fic meaning minors do not interact with this work. No one has permission from me to repost, copy or translate my work. No one has my permission to put my work into any AI source.

Notes: This is my first foray into the COD fandom and will be the first part in a dark comedy series. Please let me know what you think. Not proofread very well, sorry for any mistakes! Thanks for the motivation @live-love-be-unique !

Link to Task Force 141 masterlist / Link to COD masterlist

Captain John Price likes to think he knows his men well enough to trust them when his back is turned. Now that itself doesn’t necessarily mean knowing each and every one of their dirty secrets - he definitely wouldn’t come out smelling like fresh daisies if any number of his were revealed - but it does mean that he has the awareness to recognise that they all share one particular secret.

He sees it in the way Lieutenant Riley’s body language shifts when you give him his medical forms to look over, your consideration at offering him the option to disclose only certain personal information making the reserved soldier relax just enough to offer you a low thanks, accompanied with a stare that stretches on for a few moments longer than considered socially polite.

It’s also so amazingly obvious with Sergeant MacTavish. John’s surprised everyone else misses the way Soap’s smile takes a little longer to fade after departing for yet another mission, your swift congratulations on completing yet another physiotherapy appointment - “ Keep it up the good work big guy” - leaving the Scotsman floating on cloud nine damn near until the plane lands.

And how could he forget Sergeant Garrick? The man’s quick to change his tune and focus up, but the captain has observed Kyle absentmindedly rubbing his shoulder, thumb gingerly stroking the spot where your palm was only moments before, your figure long gone as you retreat down the corridor to where you came from.

No, Jonathan Price doesn’t miss a thing about his men. And it only takes two weeks and a long chat in the corner booth of the bar one quiet night - sans you or Laswell - before somehow his place becomes the meeting point for an unusual, though not unwelcome, topic - you.

More specifically, how to keep you.

The wooden shit box of a sports bar was where the first two facts were confirmed amongst them: 1. Every single one of the 141 men wanted you for themselves, but they weren’t above sharing. 2. You weren’t worth killing each other over, not when there was a much easier solution staring them in the face.

John’s house became the go-to place to discuss fact number three - They needed a plan.

It was Gaz who initially suggested the whiteboard after numerous interjections from Ghost and John; from everything to how to keep this from Laswell, to deciding which of your usual hangouts would provide them with the best opportunity to commence your “relocation”, to how to delicately but firmly explain said "relocation" to you once it was complete. Kyle loves his brothers in arms and never regrets a moment where his life is on the line if it means saving any one of them, but his patience began to wear thin when Soap got bored and started using goddamn paper planes instead of words to get his point across. At that Price finally relented and bought the damn thing.

Now, John was expecting you to pop by his place on Wednesday night to drop some papers off. A perfect opportunity, were it not for the fact that the gentlemen were still disagreeing on where to relocate you. However, it’ll allow you to grow more comfortable with him while he has some alone time with you, your presence like a balm on a wound - soothing and necessary (at least to him).

He had been looking forward to seeing you… tomorrow. So when you turn up not just on the doorstep but in the middle of the bloody hallway in his own bloody home halfway through the 141 “guys night”, his secondary action of shitting bricks quickly overrides his primary instinct to eliminate the threat.

He’s on his way back from the bathroom when he sees you standing, familiar folders firm in your grasp - fucking hell, is that his spare key too? - and a sour expression on your pretty face.

Your eyes narrow further when you spot him, striding over with fury rolling off you in small waves. “Captain Price, I know you did not leave these dossiers on my desk just before the end of my work day with a note stating they all need to be completed by the end of the work day.”

John’s senses are briefly overwhelmed by you being so close to him, the sight of you angry having a different effect on him than what you had originally intended. He’s never seen it before, and his hand twitches when you’re less than a foot away - fluctuating adrenaline or the desire to reach out and hold you, he’s not sure which is more prevalent. 

He always forgets to not be so obvious around you, but it isn’t as though you usually notice. (He’s not sure if the thought should make him feel sad or grateful.)

The sounds of his men arguing in the background, merely the next room over, are enough to bring reality crashing down hard.

His voice is deliberately loud and stalwart when replies. “You can’t be here.”

“Tough shit. Your lads night can wait.” You lean past him to the origin of what your gut was telling you was the sounds of the remaining 141 members quarreling. It’s easy to slip past Captain Price once your mind is set, the push of files against his chest preventing him from reacting for a few seconds - all the time you need to move down the hallway to where everyone else is bound to be.

John is quick to rush behind you, the arguing noises having swiftly changed to near cartoon-like crashes just moments before you enter the room. 

Ghost has migrated to the corner of the sitting area, standing as stiff as a fucking nutcracker, a mountain of crumpled notes and paper planes spilling out from between his arms. (His mask is still on thank god because it’ll hide exactly how caught out he feels, and if there’s one thing Simon Riley cannot stand it’s feeling like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar). His eyes instinctually watch your every move, waiting for your reaction.

Both of your gazes drift to the other side of the room, with neither of you failing to notice how the couch cushions are strewn widely across the space, (with one being stuck on top of a bookshelf for some odd reason) to find not one, but two soldiers gecko’d to the standing whiteboard.

Their demolitions expert is currently splayed out on the left side of the board and desperately grabbing the top of its metal frame, his stomach pressed into the cold porcelain and a left leg hitched up in a poor attempt to conceal the incriminating writing.

Price’s protégé is in a similar state. Dear Gaz has his back against the right side, with his arms outstretched to - much like Johnny - cover as much of their group planning as possible, a coloured marker clasped in each fist.

Two deers in headlights.

The sight of his task force is enough to bring back flashbacks of his original conversation with Kate about bringing these men together because Jesus H. Christ, what the fuck was he thinking?

There are a few moments when nobody moves or dares to breathe…

… except for you, of course.

You waste no time walking over to the two youngest members of the 141 as you attempt to shove them off the board. “Move,” you demand, palms pushing firmly against their sides. “I want to know what’s so important to everyone.” When they refuse, you do your best to stare at them, pleading with a pleasantly soft, “Please.”

Yeah, they both do what you say with ease when they hear that, giving you enough space to take in the somewhat smudged scribbles.

You miss the signal John gives Simon, the Ghost moving closer to your position as John quietly locks the door, and when your attention is drawn back to the board after the other two move you also miss all of the knowing looks shared behind your back. This was very far from ideal, but how can they recover from this?

They hope you understand that whatever comes next, they didn’t plan for it to start this way.

Kyle and John call your name but you ignore them, still processing the information written in front of you.

Johnny flexes his hands, preparing for the worst as you step back and say, “This is… bullshit.”

Every single member stops. That was not the reaction they were expecting.

Turning to face the group, you scoff. “I’m not even kidding. Firstly, you’re using guys' night to work, which is horrible for your mental and emotional health. And you should all know better.”

Four sets of brows furrow in united confusion. You don’t let that deter you from continuing, your arms gesturing haphazardly at the whiteboard. “Secondly, this is hands-down one of the worst brainstorms I have ever seen. This is not cohesive in the fucking slightest. Garrick, mark me.”

Kyle chokes on his spit, his brain short-circuiting before he sees your fingers wiggling at one of the markers he’s holding. The sergeant promptly gives it to you.

Your free hand takes turns pointing at everyone else in the room, a verbal command of, “sit down” directed at each man also. Dumbly and cautiously they all do. Ghost places himself at the end of the couch nearest the entrance, John strategically chooses a spot between yourself and the kitchen, and Soap and Gaz sit closest to you, where the two of them can hear you muttering under your breath as you draw what appears to be a massive cloud shape in the middle of the board.

Once completed, you fill your shape in with the word ‘TARGET’ and slam your free hand against the board. No one flinches, but if one were to look closely there would be some eyes widening in response. Johnny swears he sees one of your eyelids twitch.

“So,” you call out, “what do we know about the target?”

There are not only wide eyes looking at you, there are full glances exchanged between your audience.

“Seeing as you had the nerve to not invite me in your little meeting while keeping me on overtime” - Kyle and John squirm at that, and your finger makes a little circle - “we are going to be working on this project together. With all due respect, I’m not asking.”

Surely not…

And it’s when Captain John Price reviews the writing left over from the others that he realises Kyle and Johnny did one thing right during their clusterfuck of a coverup.

They managed to erase your name.

… you have absolutely no idea you are the target.

 A piece of writing far in the coroner catches your attention, and your shoulders slump. “The target likes knitting and ‘The Karate Kid’. In another life we would have been the best of friends.” A dramatic sigh leaves you, “Oh well, at least I’ll be able to give you some insight into the mindset of this individual. Any questions?”

Four hands shoot up.

Rubbing your hands together with glee, a maniac smile grows on your face. “Excellent.”

[kimdokjas]

wait wait, what’s the change tumblr did to the reblog chains ? 🥲🥲🥲 I’m so lost

okay so basically, let's say you see a post on your dash

before the update, if you clicked on a url, you could do 3 things:

view that specific reblog on the blog you follow (A)

view the previous reblog on the blog A reblogged it from (B)

view the original post on op's blog (C)

however, staff recently implemented an update where clicking on a url no longer takes you to that specific post. now, clicking on a url just takes you to the blog itself.

this means that you now get 5 things:

view ONLY that specific reblog on the blog you follow (A) -> changed location near header. also, you will now ONLY see that post and nothing else

view ONLY the original post on op's blog (C) -> changed location near header. you will only see that post and nothing else. and ONLY if the op hasn't deleted it, otherwise it just shows an error

view the blog of the person you follow (D)

view the blog of the person D reblogged it from (F) -> option B no longer exists

view the blog of the op (E)

you might be thinking: "cool! i get more options so that's good, right?" well, no.

there are SEVERAL things wrong with this and it goes beyond the prev tags issue

1) first of all, it's counterintuitive that A and C changed locations to the area near the header, especially if your userbase was already used to the previous functions. it just seems like horrible UX design to me but let's put that aside for now.

2) as you can see, option B which allowed you to see the previous reblog of a post no longer exists.

now, if you click on the previous url, you will just be taken to their entire blog. you can no longer view the post itself.

someone asked staff about this, and they replied in this post that the change was INTENTIONAL and if you want to view the previous reblog you would have to "go through the notes view".

to borrow what someone else said:

basically, this update just killed the prev tags culture in one fell swoop.

(sure, you can still use it to reply directly to the person you're reblogging from, but it's now literally useless to use "prev tags" for everyone else involved. sure, you can choose to copy tags or peer review them, but again, if people will have to copy them then the less people are likely to use them, and not every prev lends itself to peer-reviewing imo)

now, listen. i know not everyone likes the prev tags culture, but it just seems like such a poorly-thought decision to kill a culture that like... half of your entire userbase uses (see this poll as a quick reference) and that's UNIQUE to your site and sets you apart from other social media.

but it's also not even just prev tags. let's say you want to remove an annoying addition on a post's reblog chain? you can no longer do that.

however, i feel like this is the most important point:

regardless of how you may feel about the prev tags culture, the pure UI aspect of it should remain

what i mean by this is: even if you don't like prev tags, simply 1) being able to access the reblog chain, and 2) clicking on a post and actually have it take you to their BLOG (and not just a page with that one single post) is literally essential navigation.

this update threatens to drive down user engagement (which is already critically low) by making it harder to navigate. which is actually another point:

3) even if you click on A and C now to view those specific posts, it's NOT the same as it used to be.

before, you could view the reblog directly on the blog. so you could just scroll down and see the other posts leading up to it. now, you will be taken to a page where you will ONLY see that post and nothing else.

but also, you can no longer easily navigate other people's blogs.

you know how sometimes you would see like 50 notifications of someone going through an entire tag on your blog? that's going to happen a lot less, i'm afraid.

let's suppose you want to go to op's blog because they're an artist and you want to see more of their art. so you click on C and see that the tag they use for posts with their art is "#my art"

cool! before, you could just click on that tag and immediately view ALL of their art as long as the posts have that tag.

but now, if you click on that tag, it will take you to the ENTIRE tumblr tag with literally all the posts that everyone in the history of time has tagged with that specific tag.

now, to do the same thing that just took 2 clicks before, you would have to: click on C to view the post -> look for the tag you want to navigate -> click E to view their whole blog -> scroll and look for a post that just so happens to have that tag (the search function is literally useless) and hope to god that there's a recent one or you'll have to scroll for ages or simply give up -> if you happen to find it, click on that tag to navigate their posts.

you see how this is counterproductive, right? you see how this can literally drive down engagement with content creators, right?

if you make people's blogs harder to navigate, you will literally drive down the number of likes and reblogs on their posts, which have already been steadily declining for years now.

4) options D and E to view the blogs and not the posts are literally useless because you could already access other people's blogs before. you just had to click on their url to view their blogs starting from that specific post AND you could choose to just refresh it to view their newest posts.

either way, the change just seems completely unnecessary. and again, it's not just about the prev tags culture but about basic UI.

so what can we do about it?

i normally don't advocate for flooding staff with messages but i do feel like this is one of the worst updates staff has ever done (and that's saying something) and something needs to change.

even if they don't retcon the entire update, that's fine, but staff could at least add the option to view the reblog chain as a different feature (maybe even opt-in) for example. there are better ways to go about this than just axing an entire existing feature.

also, this same issue that makes it harder to navigate blogs needs to change. i feel like content creators will be especially affected by this unless this changes because you can no longer easily navigate their tags, so it will inevitably drive down engagement.

so please, contact staff and let them know we want a change.

you can contact support here!

here's a template for a possible message you could send, but feel free to edit it. (under category you can choose "Feedback")

Hi, I would like to politely request a change to the recent update that affects the reblog chain of posts. Regardless of the "prev tags" culture itself, the UI aspect of being able to view the reblog chain of a post is essential for navigation on this website. Even adding it as a separate, opt-in feature would be a huge help. Additionally, clicking on a post and then on one of the tags now takes you to the entire tumblr tag instead of the tag on that blog, which makes it harder to navigate blogs. Both of these issues have the potential to drive down user engagement by actively making it harder to navigate Tumblr, but especially for content creators. I hope you can do something to address these issues as soon as possible. Thanks in advance and have a nice day.

also, if you can and/or want, reblogs are appreciated to help spread the word!

that's pretty much the gist of the issue from what i've seen, but if anyone else has anything to add or a different way we could contact staff to make ourselves heard, please feel free to let me know!

TLDR: it's not just about prev tags, this update affects basic functionality and content creators as well

[mrsparrasblog]

Seducing Price

Okay so this is like a excerpt from my very first ff Nigtmares become true solider, I think this fanfic is to big to post on Tumblr, but I still wanted to post at least one of my favorite scenes from it.

Pairing: John Price x Reader ( I perspective tho, Readers callsign is Sunshine)

TW: Oralsex, seduction, Cum play , body worship , John Price on his knees for you

I went to the training center; my training uniform was in the washer, and I just hoped I didn't have some rookies who barely finished their puberty in the hall since I put on just a green sports bra and yoga leggings that hugged every curve of my body—leaving absolutely no place for imagination.

To my surprise, John was in the gym lifting weights, only wearing a tight compression shirt and grey sweatpants—oh no. I smiled and greeted him.

"No one's here, lovely. You can greet me properly." He pressed me against his sweaty body, kissing me with pure passion.

"Training your arms today?"

"Full body," he smirked, flexing his arm muscles. I giggled at this act—behind all this Captain exterior, he was just a man.

"How much do you lift?"

"250 lbs. What are you training today, lovely?" I swallowed hard; that explains a lot.

"Just some flexibility and stretching."

"Like yoga?" his voice sounded hoarse.

"Yes."

"Explains the outfit."

"You don't like it?" I asked him teasingly.

"A bit distracting." I gave him another kiss and went to a corner where I started to go into the downward-facing dog, wiggling my ass in John's direction.

"Sun," he said, scolding me while pushing the weight to the side.

"What?"

"Stop being a tease."

"I'm not a tease."

"You are."

I rolled my eyes and went to another position, John's eyes still lingering on me. He pulled the heavy weights, groaning deep, his hoarse voice only sounding more extreme. Now he is being a tease. But two can play that game.

"Can you spot me, love? I want to try a bit more on the bench press."

"Of course." We danced around each other for hours in the gym, teasing each other, sharing hidden touches when someone was near. When a rookie came in and tried to flirt with me; the jealousy in John's eyes was immaculate.

"You behaved nice, John," I chuckled.

"Wanted to rip that muppet apart." I went over to John, pressing my hand against his chest while he sat down, my legs fiddling between his spread legs.

"A bit close, love."

"Do you mind?"

"A bit."

"John, can you help me with sparring?" I asked him nicely.

"Oh lovely, you don't know what you're asking."

We began to spar, and to my surprise, he didn't take it easy on me. He didn't underestimate me like Soap and Kyle do; he didn't make dumb mistakes, and so I landed on my ass every time.

"If you wanted to bruise my ass, you could have just asked."

"Fucking minx."

He pinned me down, his knee pressing into my thighs a bit too close to my sweet spot, earning a little moan. He let go of me, looking at me like I'm crazy, so I pinned him down and sat down on his lap, pressing my hips against his erection, while leaning down to kiss him. He grabbed my ass and deepened that kiss before pinning me down and standing up. He helped me up, and I thought he would initiate something, but he didn't.

After the spare, he went away quickly, leaving me alone and flustered in the training center. I was weighing my options. I could go into my room and take care of the problem for myself, or I could just take a cold relaxing shower.

I grabbed a bikini from my room, towels, and my favorite shower products and went to the community shower stalls, hoping I would still catch him there.

I went down and removed my clothes, the sound of water falling against the stall, made me hope John was there. I went with my bikini for the sake of catching anyone else than John there.

But there he stood completely naked under the shower; his brown hair was black and damp because of the water; he was muscular like I thought, but not lean like Kyle or Keegan; he had these thick, delicious muscles. His dog tags clung around his chest, and his chest was covered with hair, making him look more masculine than I could take.

My eyes wandered down. He had a prominent V line and a fucking happy trail that made me rethink my complete life choices. It was followed by soft black curls between his thighs. and the most beautiful dick I ever saw.

I always laughed at people who said they were beautiful, but wow, I just wanted to kneel in front of him and suck him dry. He was big, maybe not the longest I had, but definitely the thickest I ever had, with prominent veins and a red inviting tip. He wasn't circumstanced, which only added to his appeal. I planned to seduce him, not the other way around.

"Sun, what are you doing here? This is the man's shower room."

"Community shower, "I corrected him, sneaky.

"No, you have a room with a shower because you are the only woman on base."

"But it's bonding to share a shower with your comrades."

"If you take a shower with Soap-"

"I won't do it; I don't want them to be hurt."

"Sun-"

"Yes, Captain?"

"Fuck"

"Something wrong?"

"Anyone could walk in here."

"Is that a problem for you when someone else sees me like this? I'm pretty covered up."

"For how long?"

I slowly started to remove my bikini top, freeing my breasts from the tiny fabric, my nipples already hardening under the friction of the water. Then I removed my bikini thong, throwing it in John's direction, who caught it with ease and couldn't stop staring down at my naked body like a predator who saw his prey.

"Is that what you want?" he asked, his voice low and rough. "To be caught like this, your cunt wrapped around my cock?"

"No, sir, I only want to take a shower in peace," I said, trying to sound as innocent as possible.

"Then stop teasing me," he growled, pulling me against him. His cock pressed against my stomach. "You've been teasing me the whole day, and now you're even walking in my shower."

"I'm not teasing you, sir."

"You fucking are," he snapped, losing his patience. He grabbed my hair and pulled my head back roughly, forcing me to look into his blue eyes. "I've been hard for you all day," he whispered fiercely. 

"You say it like it's a bad thing; it's natural, you know."

"It's not," he groaned. "It's fucking heaven." He pushed me against the shower wall, pinning me there with his body. His cock rubbed against me, leaving a wet trail of pre-cum on my skin. "You're making me lose my control, love."

"Why don't you give me what I want, John?"

His eyes flared hotter than a blowtorch at the thought of giving in to me. He knew exactly what I wanted. "Because for once I want to make it right, I do not want you to think I only want to fuck you."

"John please" He couldn't resist my pleas any longer. He lifted my leg and wrapped them around his waist, positioning himself at my entrance. He looked into my eyes, seeing the need and desire burning there. "You want this?" he asked, his voice rough with lust. 

"Yes, John, I want you."

"Fuck, lovely, you make me lose any self-control."

"John, I know you want more than just sex; you do not need to prove anything to me."

"You're wrong," he growled, his eyes burning with passion. "I don't need to prove anything to you. But goddammit, I want to show you how much I fucking adore you." He lets me go and get back on the ground, trying his hardest not to just take me right now. He started to shower normally again as if nothing had happened between us.

I slowly started to soap up my body, putting the soap over my hard nipples and releasing a soft moan as my shower gel fell to the ground by accident. Of course, I bent over. Picking it up revealing a perfect sight of my glistering cunt to him.

John couldn't help but stare at my ass as I bent over, his cock twitching with desire. He forced himself to turn around and grab a towel, drying off his body fast as he tried to regain some semblance of control. 

"Why are you already leaving, John?"

John turned around slowly, his eyes burning with raw passion. "Because I'm trying to be the man you deserve," he growled, "and that means controlling this damn cock of mine." He pulled me into his embrace, his erection pressing against my stomach.

"You are the man I deserve, John; you've always been the one I want."

"Say that again, lovely," he groaned, kissing me deeply. His hands roamed over my body, squeezing my ass and pulling me even closer. He broke the kiss and gazed into my eyes, his own filled with desire and love. 

I wrapped my arms around him and deepened the kiss.

"God, you taste so fucking good," he murmured against my lips before trailing kisses down my neck and collarbone. His hands slowly roamed over my boobs, caressing them and slowly planting kisses on them. He spent a bit too much time sucking on my nipples; this man surely had an oral fixation. 

I moaned softly as he stimulated my breasts. Johns's fingers traced delicate patterns on my stomach, making their way lower toward my soaked mound. His breath hitched as he finally found what he was looking for: my wet, swollen clit. "You're so fucking beautiful, the most beautiful woman on earth, do you know that?"

"Mhm, John, please."

"Your beautiful eyes, your smooth skin, and those gorgeous tits that fill my hands so perfectly," he whispered before teasing my clit with his thumb. "I want to devour you whole." 

"Stop it. You make me crazy, John," I whined. 

"I never stop complimenting you, especially when you're getting so flustered easily." He slowly starts to press one of his thick fingers into my puffy hole.  But I wanted him to feel good, so I removed John Fingers from my sweet spot and fell on my knees for him, wanting to suck him off. 

"What are you doing, lovely?" He lifted me from my knees. "You never been with a real men before? You always come first." With that, he pinned me against the shower and started to spread my lips again. "Didn't Keegan take care of your sweet cunt properly, always leaving you unsatisfied?" He circled his thumb on my clit while slowly pressing his thick fingers into my pleading hole again.

"John," I moaned his name; it felt so fucking good. His calloused fingers only added to the friction.

"That's it, lovely; scream my name." His voice was deep and husky as he began to pump his fingers in and out of my tight, wet hole. His thumb continued to rub my clit in circles, driving me wild with pleasure. "so fucking tight."

"John, please, I'm close." I felt embarrassed at how fast he got me to my height.

"Cum for Daddy, my beautiful Sun," he growled, kissing my neck. "Show me how much you love it." His fingers moved faster, pressing deeper as he teased my clit harder. "That's it, sweetheart. Let go". John held me tight, his hands pressing firmly against my hips as I rode out my orgasm.  When my body relaxed beneath him, he pulled his fingers out of my slick pussy and gently kissed my neck. "That's my good girl," He licked my juices from his finger, moaning in pleasure. 

"Can you give me a second one, lovely?"

I nodded slowly, completely drunk from my high.

"Good girl." He pushed my legs apart again and knelt in front of me. I never had a man who fucking kneeled in front of me; it had something alluring, especially when he was my fucking superior. He planted kisses on my thighs, leaving love bites on them marking his territory. John started to lick my sensitive lips, his tongue darting in and out of my hole, teasing my entrance. 

"God, you taste like scotch feels."

"What?"

"Addicting, burning, and fucking exquisite." He had his things with words, making me clench around him all the time when he said the sweetest praises as if I were a goddess to him.

His other hand went to my clit, rubbing it gently before starting to pinch it between his fingers.

I pulled on his wet hair, pressing his tongue only further into my throbbing hole, his beard giving me sensations I never felt in his life, always coming close to my clit making me flinch from passion and pain at the same time.

"You like that, huh?" He chuckled against my flesh, loving the way I moaned and bucked beneath him. "You want more, don't you?" He continued to lick and suck on my clit while pinching it gently with his fingers.

I whined and shook and was barely able to stand straight. He held me in place, supporting my body weight and making me feel safe as he ate me out like a starved man. He licked every drop of me, not letting one sip of my delicious nectar go to waste. His moans vibrated against my clit and I asked myself if he enjoyed it even more than I did. 

"That's it, my sweet girl," he murmured, his voice vibrating against my sensitive skin. "Cum for me again." His fingers slid deeper into my pussy, curling to find that perfect spot inside me.

"Oh my god, John." With a final flick of his tongue, I came hard, my juices running along his tongue, and he took them greedily, his tongue lapping up every last drop. He groaned as he felt my walls clenching around his fingers inside me. When I finally stopped shaking, he pulled away and grinned, "That was fucking fantastic; taste so divine almost made me cum from just your taste."

His beard was full of me, and his blue eyes still looked hungry at me. I wanted to return the favor so much; he just gave me the best orgasm of my life. I slowly moved my hand to his throbbing length. John let out a moan as he felt my hand on his length. "Oh, fuck, Sun," he still removed my Hand.

"Give me one more orgasm, and you can have my cock all you want, sweet girl," he said, looking at me with a serious expression. 

"But John," I whined. I wasn't sure if I could take another one.

"No, but John, you asked for this, remember?" His fingers found their way again to my overstimulated clit.

"John"

He continued to tease me, circling my clit with his fingers as he leaned down to capture one of my nipples in his mouth.

"Mhm, please, too much, John."

"You can barely take it, can you?" He chuckled around, biting down on my nipple. "Just one more push and I'll give you what you want." He moved his fingers a little faster, his thumb pressing harder against my clit.

I shook under him, completely senseless and overstimulated. "That's it, my beautiful girl," he whispered. "Let go and cum for me." His thumb flicked over my clit as his fingers pumped into me.

"Almost there, I'm so proud of you," he moaned, my inner walls clenching around his fingers. "So tight, so fucking good." He thrust his fingers in and out of me faster, his thumb circling in tight circles.

"I'm going to cum John." From my face fell happy tears. God, am I crying? 

His eyes softened as he looked at me. "Let go, love; I've got you." He pressed his thumb more firmly against my clit and started a firm rhythm with his fingers inside me pressing against my G-spot. "Cum for me, sweetheart. I want to feel you shake with pleasure."

I came screaming his name; the whole base probably heard this - my juices are spilling over his hand. His mouth left my nipple to capture the sweet sounds of my pleasure. "Fuck," he groaned, "you're so beautiful when you cum." He went down on his knees and started licking me clean.

"John, what are you doing?"

"I want to taste you," he murmured against my skin, his tongue swirling around my folds. He pushed two fingers back inside of me and started a slow rhythm as he licked and sucked on my abused clit. "Tell me if you want me to stop."

"I thought you said only three." I whined; I couldn't take it anymore. Couldn't he be more selfish?

"I lied," he said with a wicked grin. "But only because I want you to cum again." He continued to finger me while his mouth worked on my clit, determined to make me come once more. "I can't help myself; you taste fucking divine."

I was so overstimulated that I came in Seconds. He was pleased with my response, his arousal growing as he tasted my sweet nectar. "Fuck, Sun," he groaned against my skin. "You're so fucking responsive." He slowly pulled away, his fingers leaving me feeling empty.

"Let me take care of you now, John, please."

He helped me down on my knees. "Tell me if it gets too uncomfortable, okay?" 

"Please," I whispered as I wrapped my warm, soft lips around him, taking him deep into my mouth. I removed my lips from him and started to lick the precum away from his slit, tracing down his cockhead and kissing the veins on his cock. "The most beautiful dick I've ever seen."

John's breath caught in his throat at my words. He groaned lowly as I licked him clean and kissed his cock. "Fuck," he gasped, "you're going to drive me insane."

I just smiled and continued to worship his dick with small kisses. He reached down and gently guided my head, urging me to take more of him into my mouth. He couldn't believe the feelings coursing through him; the desire to feel my lips wrapped around his cock was almost overwhelming. "Goddamn," he whispered, "

I heard his plead and took him deeper almost completely, my nose tickling against his curls. John's hips began to thrust gently into my mouth, his hands tangling in my hair. "Fuck, love," he moaned, "you were made for this." He got closer and closer to the edge, his cock throbbing in my warm, wet mouth.

I bobbed my head up and down while playing with his full balls, squeezing them a bit. John groaned loudly, arching his back as he pushed deeper into my mouth. "Shit," he panted, "you're amazing." I fastened my pace, taking everything He gave me while gaging a bit because of His massive thickness.

He could feel me gagging on him, and it visibly only turned him on more. "Take it, love," he growled, "take every fucking inch." He thrust harder into my mouth, his pubic hair tickling against my face. He gripped my hair eagerly, not trying to hurt me but guiding me as he fucked my face. "Can I cum inside your throat, lovely?"

I nodded enthusiastically.

"Good girl," Price whispered before grabbing my face roughly. "Look at me when I cum." He groaned as I felt his cock pulsing, thick streams of cum shooting out into my throat. I looked at him with pure admiration and tried to swallow every sip of his cum as if it was the most delicious thing I had in my whole life. His cum was, in comparison, good, not salty; it tasted rich and bitter. 

His hips were bucking wildly. "Fuck, Sun," he moaned, "you're incredible."

After his orgasm, I removed my lips with a loud pop, and then I started to lick the remaining cum drops of his dick while moaning. John's eyes fluttered shut as he felt my tongue swipe over his cock, savoring every last drop of his cum. "God, Sun," he breathed out, "you did so good for me, beautiful girl." His eyes softened with pure admiration. 

He helped my wobbly legs up, drying and cleaning me up under the shower. It felt magical as he massaged the shampoo into my hair and washed my hair; it had such a romantic feeling that I felt truly worshiped. I put the body wash on his chest, playing with his hair, and looking at his scars, kissing them down. "Oh, love," he smiled, and I giggled, putting my head against his chest, and he wrapped me in a big bear hug. 

"John? I want more." He turned off the water and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around me. 

"More?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "You want me to fuck you?" His voice was low and husky, filled with desire.

"yes " 

John smiled slowly. "Oh, love, I want nothing more, but I want to make it right, okay? After our third date, okay? It will be perfect, I swear, and I will show you how a man makes love to the woman he truly desires" He kissed my forehead. He was one of the guys to say make love, and a giggle escaped my mouth. I kind of liked it.

"I didn't know you were such a romantic."

John chuckled softly. "You know me better than that. But when it comes to you, I want it to be right. Our third date, agreed?" He wrapped the towel around his waist, pulling me close.

"Can we at least cuddle?"

"Of course, your room or mine?"

"yours"

"Perfect love." He helped me put on my yoga pants on my wet skin.

"And how do we get out without someone noticing?"

"I think after you screamed like this, it's too late with the descrition."

"Shut up, John!" He kissed me, while caressing my face with his thumb. He was so different from his Captain exterior, almost vulnerable around me.

We left the shower, trying not to draw any attention, and we didn't. Well, until the tall frame of Simon appeared next to us, showing us a death glare through his mask, but not saying a word since John was his superior.

His room was a bit bigger than mine and a lot cleaner, almost sterile, between some pictures and books. It smelled like tobacco and vanilla, and I could get used to that scent. He lay down on the bed, and I removed his shirt.

"I thought only to cuddle."

"I just want to steal your shirt; it smells so good."

"But then I do not have a shirt," he chuckled.

"Well, who cares? It looks better on me anyway."

"I suppose it does." He handed me his shirt, watching as I put it on. The fabric clung to my curves; the shirt was a bit too big, fitting me like a dress.

"You are beautiful," he said.

"You spoil me rotten with your compliments."

John leaned in, capturing my lips in a passionate kiss. "I can't help it," he whispered against my skin. "You deserve to be spoiled." He trailed more kisses down my neck and collarbone before nipping at my earlobe playfully and hugging me tightly, almost manhandling me with his sheer size.

"My legs are sore because of you. If you make me run tomorrow in training, I'll die." Maybe this was my free-of-running card."

He pulled back slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh really? Well, maybe I'll make sure to take it easy on you tomorrow." He grinned wickedly, knowing full well that he would likely push me to my limits.

"You never take it easy on anyone."

He laughed, leaning in to kiss my nose. "That's because I never want anyone slacking off. But I promise, I'll make sure you can keep up." He smirked.

"Mhm, maybe you give my thighs a massage; it would make me happy."

Price raised an eyebrow at my suggestion, amused. "You want me to massage your thighs? Consider it done." He sat up and reached for my legs, starting to knead the muscles gently. I rubbed his hair gently while he massaged my thighs, and after he placed his head on them, cuddling with the soft flesh, both of us fell asleep.

[spencerreidenjoyer]

want you tonight | aaron hotchner x reader

wc: 675, rating: teen/mature (no smut)

tags/warnings: boss/employee, fem!bau!reader, they're drunk but they don't do anything yet, kissing and sexual tension

a/n: i am a spencer girl at heart but jesus christ does hotch make me feel some type of way. i just wanted to get this little drabble out, but if you'd like to see more please leave me a comment and i might follow up with the smut!!! (ao3 link here!)

Hotch presses you up against his front door, closed behind them when you entered his apartment. While Hotch has been eyeing you all night, you feel pinned against the door by his gaze right now. His eyes bore into you, studying your face, studying you. He looks like he wants to kiss you.

“Hotch.” You rest your hands on Hotch’s shoulders, letting your hands slide down his arms. “You– Do something.”

All of a sudden, as if he hadn’t been eyeing you up like a starving man in front of his next meal, he pulls away, head in his hand, massaging his temples like you’re the thing giving him a migraine right now. “No. No.”

The whiplash is enough to sober you up. You step forward towards him, reaching out. “What? Hotch–”

“No, we can’t–” Hotch shakes his head, keeping you away with one hand on her shoulder.

You frown. “Hotch, you invited me here. We’re both drunk. You pinned me up against your front door, and I know you want–”

“Don’t. Don’t say it,” Hotch’s voice comes out shakily. He looks conflicted, but you know he’s dead serious. “If you say it then– Then it becomes real.”

You can’t take it any more. It can’t just be a coincidence. Hotch is always asking you to stay by his side when the team splits up. You know the way Hotch looks at you means something, more than just a concerned boss. His dark eyes always regard you in a way you can’t put on paper, but they give you some glimmer of hope that your boss is just as attracted to you as you are to him. You’re both drunk. Hotch invited you up to his apartment. There’s no way he hadn’t intended for… something. Right?

“Don’t you want it to be real?” You ask. “Even just for one night? I know you want me, Hotch. Just because you’ve been doing this for longer doesn’t mean I can’t read you just as well.”

Hotch says your name, his tone grave. Then, “You have no idea how badly I want you.”

“You have me. In your apartment,” you say simply.

Hotch shoots her a glare. “But I’m your boss. If we… Whatever I do with you, I– We’re going to be in a lot of trouble.”

“No one has to know,” You say, feeling a little desperate. Yeah, maybe you are hot and bothered by the way Hotch pushed you up against the door, and yeah, maybe you do want Hotch to do something about it. “You’ve done things under the table before.”

“I know I have, but they’ve always come to light, one way or another. I can’t.” Hotch’s guard has come down, surprisingly vulnerable as they stand in his hallway, but his hand is no longer keeping you away.

“But you want to,” You affirm, taking a step closer to him. You try to meet Hotch’s gaze, and when you do, you can see the worry in his eyes. “I want you too, Hotch. Even if it’s just for tonight.”

Hotch exhales sharply, mind seemingly busy as he weighs out his options. After a moment too long of silence, a silence that has you thinking you should start making your way out, he says, “Just for tonight. And don’t call me Hotch. It just reminds me that I’m supposed to be your boss.”

“Aaron,” You start, hesitant, your boss’ first name unfamiliar on your tongue. “Do you want to kiss me?”

“God, yes,” Aaron sighs, like he’s relieved, and closes the distance between you and him. His hands reach for your waist like they’re magnets, pulling you close. There’s a tenderness in the way he presses his lips to yours, one hand holding your cheek as he sighs into the kiss.

Your hands are on his arms as you kiss him back. You feel up his strong arms, his sturdy body, feeling so secure while he holds you close and kisses you. Your head spins: finally, finally, you have Aaron, and it feels like heaven.

[artists-ally]

can i just say you write harvey specter so fucking well i had to take multiple pauses throughout my reading cos i was literally gasping 😭 please write more harvey!! with an exhibitionist and breeding kink maybe? 😮‍💨

{To My Knees} Reader x Harvey Specter

Okay first off thank you so much?? You’re literally so sweet thank you babes. I try to keep my writing as canon as I can so I’ll take this as a good sign!! I got myself a little hot and bothered writing this so... Enjoy!! And as long as you keep showing up in my inbox with more recs I will gladly keep writing for this man 🫶 (please I am so desperate for requests) title from this song <- Highly suggest listening to while reading!!

Word Count: 4,240

Warnings: angst, smut, exhibitionism, breaking kink, degrading, oral (m!receiving) cum eating, Harvey being an asshole.

Summary: you test Harvey’s patience when out to dinner with a prospective client.

Tagging: @rosedpetal

~~~~~~~

When Harvey got a call saying that he was going to have to cancel your planned dinner, to say you were pissed would be an understatement. This night has been planned for weeks because of this exact reason. He always had last minute shit pop up and you were sick of it. So you called him.

“Yn, now is not the time-“

“Harvey, I don’t care. You promised this was going to be our night. I know you’re dedicated to your work and clients, but what about your dedication to me?”

He took a long pause. “I know, I’m sorry. But babe this is- this client isn’t one I can just roll over. It’s for one of the biggest private airlines in the world. I can’t skip this.”

“But you can snub me off?” You were fuming. And maybe you were being a bit aggressive, but he was being a complete asshole.

“If I had another choice, I’d take it but I don’t. I will make it up to you I promise, Yn.”

An idea popped into your head. “What if there is another option?”

“What are you talking about?” He sounded so puzzled.

“Take me with you.”

“No.” He snapped instantly. “Absolutely not, Yn. That would be breaking attorney-client privilege.”

“No it wouldn’t, he isn’t your client yet.” You had him by the balls with that one. You may have not gone to law school but in the years you’ve been with Harvey, you’ve picked up on a few things here and there. This tidbit of information may have just saved your ass and put Harvey’s tail between his legs.

Harvey let out a groan. “Fine. You win. Meet me at Keens at seven?”

You did a silent dance in your kitchen. “I’ll see you there. I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.”

You were absolutely not going to be on your best behavior. You wanted to shove it in Harveys face that you were not second place. In the beginning of your relationship, it was difficult to find a healthy work/personal life balance for him. It took time– and a calendar on your fridge– to get him all to yourself every once and a while. Things had been going great, and the scheduled time together made up for all the hard work in the beginning. But now? Oh, were you going to put on a show. 

The plan was to get dressed up in something he couldn’t resist. To pin up your hair in a way that shows off your neck and shoulders. Those drives him crazy the most.

It takes a little bit of deciding before your eyes land on a velvet dress in the back of your closet. It was black and barely went to the middle of your thigh. Around the square neckline was cream colored lace, as well as around the edges of the sleeves. You paired it with some lace stockings and platform heels that made your legs look so long and irresistible. 

After painting your lips dark with a cranberry lip-stain, you grabbed a jacket off the rack and headed out. 

Much to your surprise, Ray was downstairs, ready to pick you up.

“Don’t you look stunning, my dear,” the older man smiled sweetly.

“Why thank you,” you did a little spin. “Don’t tell Harvey I said this, but I have a plan to ruin his night.”

“Can I ask why?”

“To teach him a lesson. He tried to blow off our date tonight because he got a last minute call with a client. Do you know what he would say to me if I had abandoned him to go cover someone's shift?”

“Nothing helpful,” Ray sighed, turning out of the parking lot and onto the main street. 

“Exactly,” you huffed, crossing your arms. “It’s unfair.”

“I don’t disagree with you, but can I offer you some advice?” You nodded. “Don’t agitate him too much? I know you feel like getting some revenge, and by all means, go terrorize that hard-ass. But only a little. He can be very unforgiving when it comes to his clients. Especially when he’s about to close.”

You knew better than to do that. It would land you on his shit-list, and not the fun one that led to him bending you over the nearest surface and taking him at his own will. His business shit-list was one of pure wrath, and you didn’t want to be on that one. 

With a sharp left to the valet section, Ray parked the car and opened the door for you.

“Thanks, Ray. I’ll try not to cause too much trouble,” you gave him a subtle wink.

“You and I both know that wont be possible, dear. Have fun,” he gave you an equally daunting look before driving off. 

The top of the line steak house stood in front of you, two minutes to seven. Right on time. The host greeted you with a smile and a not-so-subtle once over of your outfit. He showed you to your table, somehow managing to beat Harvey and his prospective client. It couldn’t have been more than four-five seconds when Harvey was brought over, and you stood to greet him. 

“Don’t you look lovely,” Harvey grinned. You knew that look on his face; the one that told you to behave or you were going to get it. Anyone else but you would’ve missed it entirely. 

“Thank you,” you grinned back, an equally challenging glint in your eye. 

“Yn, this is David Cranwall, owner of Mystique Airlines,” Harvey gestured to the man off his left. “David, this is Yn, my girlfriend.”

“A pleasure,” David shook your hand. “Harvey tells me great things. And thank you for your flexibility.”

Flexibility? What in the hell did Harvey tell this guy?

“It’s not an issue.” It is most certainly a big fucking issue.

With a heated glance at Harvey, you took your seats and the two boys began their discussion about company plans and blah blah blah. You prowled the menu and pretended not to pay attention. When the waiter dropped by to grab drink orders, you intentionally ordered a rather expensive bottle of wine for yourself, not bothering to ask if anyone would like to share.

Harvey didn’t mind spending his money on you one bit, encouraged it actually, but he did give you a funny look. All you offered was a shrug before turning back to the waiter. 

“Would anyone like to place an appetizer or an entree?” He asked politely, eyes staying on you. 

Judging by Harvey’s tone, he was beginning to pick up on my intentions. “No, we’ll order when we’re all ready. I’m still deciding between the prime rib and sirloin.”

Bullshit. Harvey always went with the filet mignon. Especially at Keens. He was buying time. The waiter scurried away and you took a sip of the water that was already there, eyeing Harvey. Two could play this game. 

Over the course of the next several minutes, you plotted your next move.

“... And when we finally get the airspace you’re looking for, we can start booking flights to anywhere you can put a billboard. I’m talking about Canada, Indonesia, even Christmas Island if you want. What I’m trying to get at is if you let my firm represent you, we can send your customers anywhere in the world. And that’s a promise.”

As you unrolled the napkin from your utensils, the spoon tumbled off the table. Oops. Harvey shot you an annoyed glare, but you just batted your lashes prettily before bending to pick it up. You knew he watched, because you saw him shift in your seat. 

When you came up, you dragged your hand up the side of his leg, pausing at his knee before you came back up. 

“Apologies,” you smiled at David, flagging down the waiter for a new one. He was a little too excited to follow your request. While the boys talked, you carefully scooted your chair closer to Harvey, and he didn’t seem to notice. 

You wanted his attention.

When the waiter– Max? Mickey? Something like that– came back, the wine and scotch came with it. The three of you placed your orders and a shared appetizer of brussel sprouts. Harvey almost turned green at just the thought of eating those. 

Picking the glass up, you tipped the wine a little too quickly for all of it to make it in your mouth. A few drops trickled down your cheek, all the way to your neck. “Jeez, I am clumsy today.” It was all part of the plan. 

“Excuse me, my daughter is calling me. Let me take this,” David’s brow furrowed, quickly getting up and turning away. 

“Take your time,” Harvey gave a single nod before whipping around to you. “What are you doing?”

“Whatever do you mean, Harvey?” His eyes followed your fingers as they drew along the line of spilled wine that went between your tits. You took that finger all the way to your mouth and were not shy with the show. 

“Don’t start with me,” he warned. “I am not in the mood for your… your shenanigans.”

“My shenanigans?” You were a little appalled. You plucked one of the small slices of bread from the basket, dipped it in butter, and popped it in your mouth. “This was supposed to be a You-and-I kind of night. I was not supposed to be the third wheel here. You should be thankful I didn’t walk in here a half hour late, smack you in the face and cause a scene.”

“You wouldn’t do something like that.”

Your eyebrows went up. “Wanna make a bet?”

“No,” he seethed. “Stop whatever you’re doing. Now. This isn’t some type of game, Yn.”

“No, it isn’t. And I don’t think I will. Last time I checked you didn’t own me.” That was going to seal your fate. Harvey sucked in a deep breath and his eyes narrowed. Now he was playing into your games. You had him exactly where you wanted him. 

When David returned, he didn’t notice the silent battle between the two of you as he asked about your relationship. How you met, how long you’ve been together. All that boring shit. 

“Well, Yn was a friend of a client of mine. She was at the celebratory party and I couldn’t keep away from her. And she liked my jokes, even if she denies it.” “You know they were bad,” you chuckled. “You kept calling me Mrs. Specter from the second you opened your mouth.” “You guys are engaged?” David asked.

“No,” you shook your head. “Not yet, anyway. I already iron all his shirts and fix his tie every morning. I think I  have completed the ‘wife starter pack’ to earn a ring.”

That got a laugh out of David. Harvey reached for your hand, and you rested it in your lap. Big mistake. Harvey’s finger pulled back the hem of your skirt and slid down your clothed pussy. It was an effort to not jolt at the sudden pressure. 

His finger hooked under the elastic and you covered up the movement of his wrist by adjusting yourself in the seat, uncrossing your legs to give him access. That got a brush of his fingers against where you needed him, a sign of his approval. 

It amazed you that David was clueless. Clearly he was a smart guy, but he was oblivious to anything else other than his business. Oblivious to the way Harvey dragged up his finger, circling your clit. To dissipate the urge to lean into it, you crossed your ankles, trapping his hand between your thighs. 

He dug his nails into your skin. You flinched, letting out a small noise and knocking into the table with his knees. 

“You alright, Yn?” Harvey asked, expression filled with anything but real concern. 

To cover up your squirm, you did it again and grit your teeth. “Yeah I’m alright, just a cramp.” As you bent over to soothe the nonexistent ache, you dropped low enough so Harvey had to remove his hand. The glare you gave him was nothing short of pure rage. You knew when you stood up that there would be several nail marks just below the safety of the skirt. 

Revenge time. 

On your way up you plopped your hand in his lap, maybe a little harder than you intended. Maybe not. He lurched forward a micro-inch, and you had to suppress the giggle that bubbled up.

Their conversation went on, and you listened, getting details here and there. Soon the entrees came out and you all busied yourself with the rich and flavorful course. That was surprisingly the smoothest part of the night. David was very passionate about telling us about his grandson who had just gotten really into horseback riding. All about the different types of jumps and competitions– and how fucking expensive it was. He beamed with pride though, and it was sweet to see. 

The waiter stopped by again to collect finished plates and ask for dessert. Without a second thought, you took the menu from his hands and settled on a big piece of blueberry cheesecake. 

“I know I was intruding on your original plans, so I will let you all enjoy each other's company. Mr. Specter, it has been a pleasure. I will be in touch to discuss the contract agreement and our plans going forward. Miss Yn, a pleasure to meet you.”

“You as well,” you offered a small wave to his departure, but Harvey walked with him all the way out. Time for step three: get Harvey alone.

He took longer than you would’ve thought, so out of curiosity you sent him a text to see if he was coming back. Of course he was coming back, who could resist spending time with you? Harvey most certainly couldn’t. There were things you could do to that man that no one else had been able to. He was a bit of a control freak. But with you? He wouldn’t want to give his control to anyone other than you. Not just in a day-to-day sense either. 

There was nothing more sexually appealing than a man who was confident and could prove his word. At times Harvey was a bit arrogant, but at least he could back it up. He was quick witted and snarky to the core. Extremely petty and a little revenge crazed, but he was damn loyal. Which is what landed you in this situation in the first place. 

Harvey-fucking-Reginald-fucking-Specter. Leave it to him to simultaneously break and keep his word at the same time.

Maybe it was because you weren’t entangled in the shit-show that was the corporate law world, but you just didn’t understand why he couldn’t ask to meet in the morning. Seriously, was money worth so much more than the time spent with the person you loved? Now you were just being jealous of David. That he took time away from your and Harvey’s night. But then again you have a right to be pissed. It was supposed to be your night. And without consulting you prior, Harvey went and changed your night. 

“Excuse me miss,” a polite, quiet voice said from my side. “Mr. Specter has asked you to meet him. Follow me?”

Oh, well alright then. With a nod, you grabbed your purse and followed the staff member back, through the kitchen, and to this random little room filled with a few stacks of chairs and shelf of cleaning supplies. 

“Here you are, Mr. Specter,” she said, like you were some gift or prize being handed to him.

“Thank you, Steph,” Harvey had a polite smile on his face that dropped the moment she closed the door. “I cannot believe you.”

“Oh please, save your breath.”

“Yn, I asked you to do one thing. One fucking thing, and you didn’t do it,” Harvey was furious, making all kinds of crazy gestures. 

“This relationship isn’t a one way street, Harvey. And the last time I checked no relationship is, so why are you bossing me around like I’m a child, telling me what I can and can't do?” You came right up to him, inches from his face. 

“Because you’re acting like an entitled brat.” He did not just say that. “All I asked was that you don’t cause any trouble and have some fucking manners.”

“And I think I did a pretty good job at that. I didn’t cause a scene, I didn’t blow your goddamn client. Why the hell are you so mad at me? All I did was have a little fun for once.”

“By making a show of yourself and embarrassing me in front of David?” Harvey scoffed. A cruel, wicked sound. “And did you really have to hit me in the balls?”

“Yes,” you smirked. “I did. And clearly you were enjoying my presence whether you want to admit it or not. I certainly wasn’t the one who put your hand between my legs. And by the looks of it, you were having fun playing along with it too.”

Harvey’s eyes narrowed and he crowded you against the wall, palms flat on the space beside your head. “So that’s what this is about?”

You blinked innocently. “I don’t know what you’re-”

“Don’t play stupid with me, Yn.” His hand was firm on your jaw, gripping it in a way that made your lips pucker out. “You know fucking well what you were doing.”

“So what if I did?” You shrugged. 

Harvey gripped your throat, bringing you in closely to his lips. “You’re such a fucking brat, you know that? We can’t even enjoy a nice night out without you being desperate and needy for me. You want to be a brat and make a show of yourself? Fine, turn the fuck around and shut up.”

“Harvey-” 

“Now.” Bingo. You got him. With a bite to your lip, you turned around and faced the wall, Harvey’s hard cock pressing into your ass. He was not gentle about pulling up your dress and tearing your underwear down your legs. “Yeah, look how fucking messy you are. All because you were mad about sharing?” He clicked his tongue together, fisting your hair between his fingers. “You’re lucky we’re not at home right now or I’d be far less forgiving.”

“What’s stopping you from taking me home then?” You asked, hissing when he pulled your head back.

“I thought I told you to be quiet.” 

He let go of your hair and instead of the routine smack he usually gave to your ass, he opted for his nails. Which, objectively, was more painful. To keep quiet, you bit your lip and leaned into it.

The sound of Harvey undoing his pants sent energy pulsing through your body. Your core ached with the need to feel him. And he clearly didn’t feel like wasting any time either. 

“If you so much as let out a pathetic whimper, I will put you on the ground and make you regret it. Do you understand?” His hand was back against your scalp, yanking roughly. 

“Yes,” you answered. 

He drug a couple fingers between your legs, coating his cock in the wetness before stepping flush with your body. As he pressed, he kicked the inside of your ankle to get you to spread your legs apart farther. Harvey’s hands were unforgiving on your hips, pulling you back into his thrusts.

Air was forced from your mouth with the power of it. It was so fucking hard not to beg and plead. But you kept quiet, unlike how Harvey normally likes it. He fucking loved it when you screamed. 

“I know how hard it is to not get what you want,” his tone was condescendingly sweet. “But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you know who owns with fucking pussy. We both know you can’t make yourself feel the way I can.”

You quivered at his words, suppressing whimper after whimper when he put his hand back around your throat. He didn’t squeeze, but he pulled you flat against this chest, ass pressed all the way into the hollow of his hips as he pumped in and out. A brutal, unforgiving pace. 

“Harvey-” “If you think for a second you’re going to be able to cum,” he let out a vicious laugh. “Oh, pretty girl, do you have another thing coming. You wanted to be a whore, so I’ll fuck you like one. Girls who disobey direct orders don’t have permission to get what they want, do they?”

It was impossible to answer. You couldn’t move with the way you were pinned against him and the wall. In a quick second he spinned you around and lifted up under your thighs, holding you up against the wall. It was cold on your back, despite the heat coursing through your veins with such a fury it made you dizzy. 

“Answer me, Yn.”

“I don’t deserve it,” you croaked. 

“That’s fucking right. Suck.” He forced his fingers into your mouth and down your throat. Tears bubbled into your eyes and they closed, becoming weak and boneless in his grip. 

Harvey bit at your neck and ear, and a pathetic moan slipped from your lips. The fingers in your mouth slipped out and wrapped around your neck, pinning your slumped body up.

“Keep quiet,” he demanded. His other hand slipped from your waist and covered your mouth. Fuck his hips were brutal. His cock even more so at this angle. How he was keeping you up, you’ll never know. But he did, fucking into you like his life depended on it. 

You were so close to cumming. You just needed a little bit more friction. So you ground your hips down into his, desperately trying to get off. 

He tightened his grip, cutting off more air, and you stopped immediately. “What the fuck did I say, hmm? Try that shit again and I’ll drag you into the main dining area and bend you over my knee for everyone to see what a desperate, cockslut you are. But I think you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Clearly you like making a show of yourself. What do you say? Should we go out there and put on a show?”

The scream that tore from you couldn’t be controlled. The two of you have done some messing around in public before, but nothing like this. Or the promise he made that you’re sure he’d follow through in. It thrilled you, the thought of all those people watching him fuck you… you’re just not sure it’s worth the criminal charges. 

“Aww, you’re crying. I’m sorry, pretty girl. Fuck do you look so fucking hot when you cry from my cock. Fuck-” Harvey’s hips stuttered and he almost dropped you. “Don’t be sad you didn’t get to cum, I can figure out a way for you to make it up to me. Fuck- I’m gonna cum.”

You clenched hard around him, tears falling over his fingers as he forced his hips harder harder harder-

“I fucking own this pussy. Yeah you know I do, don’t ever say that I don’t ever again. This is my pussy to fuck and breed.” Harvey bit his own lips purple as he forced you down on his cock when he released. Fuck there was too much- “Take it. Take all of my cum, pretty girl. Yeah that it, take it all out of me and into that pretty cunt of mine.”

You didn’t have a choice. Not that you wanted one anyway.

Harvey held you up and rocked his hips in and out. There was a splat on the floor and he looked down, smirking like the devil. 

“Was there too much of my cum to keep all inside that tight pussy of mine? Why don’t you get on your fucking knees and clean me up since you want to waste it.”

You obeyed and sank to the floor. Harvey forced his cock between your lips, and the familiar taste of him warmed your mouth. His thick length touched the back of your throat, and you gagged, but Harvey only grabbed the back of your head and forced you all the way down. His pelvic bone was flush with your nose, and more tears were forced from your eyes. 

“Next time you wanna try some shit like that, remember who you’re dealing with, Yn. When we get home I am going to be far from gentle when I get back between your legs.”

He pulled out of your mouth and hauled you up to your feet. The feeling of his fingers inside you filled you with sparks as he coated his fingers before making you clean those off too. 

“Good girl,” he praised. “Now, fix yourself so we can get out of here and I can punish you properly.”

Harvey fixed his pants and tucked in his shirt, leaving you all by yourself to clean up his mess. It had gone exactly how you wanted it to. Whether Harvey saw that or not, you didn’t know, but you have always had him under your control. You could make him smile just as easily as you could make him pull stunts like this one.

Curiosity and excitement filled you as you slid your sticky panties back on and fluffed your hair to one side before following Harvey out the door.

[wholoveseggs]

girrrllll, i got another idea! how about Elijah proposing to a reader? it could be angsty in the beginning, maybe they got into a fight because she feels like he always puts his family before her, so he proposes to her to show her she is his family too (and cause he was planning on doing that for a while anyway). and it’s all emotional, she’s not believing what’s happening and she’s thinking he doesn’t really mean it. meanwhile he’s almost desperate to show her how much she means to him. Smut cannot be absent of course. thank youuuu🫶🏻🫶🏻

Forever

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Elijah loves you with all his heart, but his commitment to his family and his loyalty to Klaus keeps him from acting on his feelings. But when he almost loses you, he is determined to prove that you are the only woman he has ever truly loved, and wants to make you his, forever.

♡♡ Thanks for the request @msveronicag! Who doesn't want to be Elijah's wife? ♡♡

6.8k words - Warnings: smut, fluff, angst, slight violence (a classic Elijah & Klaus brawl), shower sex, rimjob {f!receiving}, oral sex & the Italian coast ♡

Everyone says that Elijah Mikaelson is the best of his family. A loyal, charming, considerate man that holds himself to a standard not many can accomplish. In essence, perfect. He loves his family deeply, despite their constant misgivings and betrayals. Nothing would get in his way, if it meant he could protect the ones he loves.

Well, that's what you wanted to believe.

There was a reason Elijah held such devotion to his family. He was one of them, and no better than the worst of them, having sinned over and over to the point where atonement was simply not a viable option.

He didn't want you to see him that way, the dark side of his polished exterior. He wanted to shed his past and become a new man with you by his side.

You were unlike anyone he's ever known or had a passing connection to. Your empathy and kindness was beyond measure, it had captivated him the very moment that your eyes met.

He always wanted to be married, there were even a few times he almost found someone to spend eternity with. Something always stood between that moment and himself, usually in the shape of some great threat. But things had now settled in his life, he had a niece and a proper place to call home. He was no longer on the run from one demon or another.

He wanted this. To settle down with the woman of his dreams, build a life together, and maybe even add to it.

Perfect. Simple. Domestic bliss.

You had come for a small party celebrating Hope's third birthday. Or, as far as you were concerned, a get together amongst those you considered family.

Although, sometimes you worried they didn't see you as family in turn. Deep entrenched history often kept you away from the inner workings of their family life. You understood that you had to earn your place in their lives, and you had done so time and time again. But they never seemed to truly accept you as one of their own.

You got along with nearly all of them except Klaus, who saw you as just a passing phase Elijah was going through. A dalliance, nothing more.

He certainly knew how to poke at your insecurities about your relationship.

"So, tell me," he asked as the two of you waited in the kitchen. "When will this little thing with you and my brother end?"

"Excuse me?" you asked, trying to keep your voice light.

"Don't take it personally, sweetheart. You're not the first pretty face he's lost himself in," Klaus explained with a shrug.

"You don't think he's serious about me?" you questioned, trying not to feel hurt.

Klaus just shrugged and gave you a wicked grin. "Why would he be?"

"Because I love him, and he loves me," you replied, keeping your voice low. "It's been four years, and it's serious."

Klaus let out a bark of a laugh. "Four years is nothing in the life of an original. When will you stop living in this fantasy you've built in your mind? This will end and you will move on."

You were about to respond with a few choice words when Hayley came in carrying hope.

While your relationship with Klaus was contentious and you thought him to be cruel and cold. There was no doubt that Hope loved her daddy with all of her tiny heart. She reached out to him, and he happily took her into his arms.

"There's my little one," he cooed, holding her close. "I love you, my sweet girl."

He began to place kisses all over her, and the three year old giggled loudly.

You had baked the cake for her, and placed a number 3 candle in the middle.

"Let's light her up!" you announced.

The cake was placed on the dining room table, and Elijah stood by you. He slipped his hand in yours and squeezed.

"I want auntie y/n to light it," Hope said.

You smiled wide and kissed her on the head.

"Okay," you whispered, your voice soft.

You lit the candle, and everyone began to sing as the little Mikaelson happily ate a slice of cake, messily covering herself. You laughed, taking a cloth to wipe her little face and hands. Elijah watched you with adoring eyes, you were such a loving soul and he was so lucky to be the one to call you his own.

The cake was enjoyed by all and soon it was time for gifts. Hope was handed a large package by her father, and she eagerly tore open the paper.

You were cuddled up to Elijah, and he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. "Thank you, my love."

"For what?" you asked, glancing up at him.

"For being here. It means a lot to me," he told you.

You looked back up at Elijah, and kissed him lightly.

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," you told him.

Hayley helped Hope unwrap the gift from you and Elijah. It was a wooden dollhouse, and it was a miniature replica of the compound, complete with a little Klaus, Elijah, Hayley, and Hope.

Hope hugged the dollhouse to her chest. "I love it!"

"We made it ourselves," you said with a smile.

"Look, daddy!" Hope squealed. "Auntie Y/N and Uncle 'lijah got me a house."

Klaus gave you a tight smile, and you looked at Elijah. He wrapped an arm around your waist, and held you close. This only seemed to annoy Klaus more, but he turned his attention to his daughter, and the gift that she had received.

"That's amazing, little love. Now, why don't you open the rest of your presents?"

"Okay!"

The evening winded down, and eventually Klaus and Hayley took Hope upstairs to get her ready for bed and the rest of the family retired to their rooms. You had left the dining room table a mess, and wanted to help clean up.

You had picked up a few discarded wrapping papers, when Elijah's arms came around your waist.

"Don't worry about that, my love," he whispered, pressing his lips to your neck. "Leave it, we can do it tomorrow."

"You're sure?" you asked, leaning against him.

"Very," he whispered, taking your hand and leading you towards his bedroom. "I have other plans for you."

"Oh?"

"Mmm," he replied, nipping at your ear. "You know, I've been thinking of you all day. All the things I'd like to do with you."

You flushed,  biting your lips and smiling shyly. He never failed to make your heart skip a beat when he looked at you with that seductive gaze. He never had to force it either, his stare was simply alluring and attentive, it pulled you into its grasp like a siren's song.

Elijah shut the door, and the moment you turned around, he grabbed you and kissed you passionately. His hands held your hips tightly, pulling you against him. He kissed down your jawline, and down your throat.

He pushed you gently onto the bed, kissing down your neck and inhaling the smell of your skin, pulling your clothes off as he went along.

His love, his entire world, right here in his arms. If he were a more possessive man, he'd keep you in this room until his love was imprinted in your very bones.

He kissed you softly, wanting to take his time and express how deeply he cared for you with each touch. He moved down your body, worshiping your skin with his hands and mouth, and the soft sounds that escaped you only urged him on.

His bliss was quickly broken by the sounds of his brother yelling for him at the top of his lungs- an unnecessary use of volume, considering everyone had supernatural hearing.

You reached down and cupped his face, drawing his attention back to you.

"Please don't," you whispered, a pleading look in your eyes. "Stay,"

Elijah's breath left his lungs. You were not the clingy type, in fact you were rather understanding and independent; letting him go and do whatever it was the family needed, always supporting him.

He should stay, finish what he started with you, love you, the one he can't live without. But there was clearly something going on downstairs, his family needed him.

He pressed a soft kiss to your lips. "I'll be back."

"Sure," you said flatly, pulling away. You didn't quite meet his eyes as you turned on your side, facing away from him.

You were clearly upset, but he didn't have time to be swayed by his emotions. He leaned in to give you a quick kiss, but you turned your head away.

"I'm sorry, my love," he said, stroking your hair.

You didn't respond, and he had to leave you there, curled up and angry. He felt a deep pang of regret, but the thought of his family's safety was at the forefront of his mind.

As soon as Elijah left, you let your emotions come to a boil. It hurt how he was constantly running away to deal with his family. It hurt you when he put them over you, their arguments over little things always dragged him in. It made you feel undesired, and second best.

You had no doubt he cared for you, and you did believe he loved you. But did he truly love you the way he loved his own family?

No, not really. He was always holding back, never showing all of himself. He wanted a relationship, but not a true partnership. Not with you, anyway.

Your insecurities bubbled to the surface. The way Klaus acted around you, like you didn't belong, he always treated you as if you were an outsider. Perhaps he was right, that it was a fantasy, that you should move on.

It didn't matter that you were with Elijah. It didn't matter that he called you his love.

He could love you, but not be in love with you. And maybe he wasn't. Maybe this was all a lie, a ruse. 

Just too good to be true.

Klaus was pacing around the courtyard, clearly worked up and ready to take it out on the next person who walked through the door.

"Is it necessary to yell?" Elijah asked, his voice calm and collected.

"I had to make sure to get your attention, since you've been so distracted lately," Klaus snarked, a pointed look on his face.

Elijah let out a sigh, this wasn't the first time they've had this conversation. He was growing tired of Klaus' attitude. "What is it that's so important?" he asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone.

"Y/n is a distraction," Klaus began. "You are blinded by her, and you've become weak and weakness will get us killed." He was speaking quickly and with anger. "You are no longer the man that I've known for a thousand years. You have forgotten where you came from, what you are, and who you are meant to protect."

"Are you suggesting I cast her aside?" Elijah questioned, his voice cold.

"Yes, exactly," Klaus answered, his expression unchanging.

"No," Elijah stated simply.

"She acts far too familiar, and is clearly not one of us," Klaus continued.

"She has proven herself time and time again," Elijah countered. "What more does she need to do?"

"I don't want Hope getting attached to someone that isn't family," Klaus said.

"You can't control who Hope gets close to," Elijah snapped, his anger finally rising.

"I can certainly try," Klaus replied, his tone icy. "And I will. Because you've allowed this woman into our home, our family, and now she's acting as if she belongs."

"She does," Elijah said, his voice steady. "You just have a hard time accepting that."

"If you really care about her, then you will do what is best," Klaus replied, his expression changing. "We both know what happens to your dalliances, they come to tragic ends. I'm trying to spare her from that, brother."

"This isn't some fling, Klaus," Elijah growled, his eyes flashing with rage.

"No, she's just a girl you enjoy fucking! And now Hope is calling her auntie, and she's acting like she's Hope's mother-"

Elijah laughed coldly, his brother was so painfully transparent, his paranoia endless and ever growing. "Is that what this is about? You're afraid of her taking Hayley's place? That I would take yours? Have you officially gone insane?" he mocked, his anger at a breaking point. "Have my actions in the last few years not been clear?"

"She will not be welcomed here once you've tired of her. Once she's gone, Hope will ask for her, and I will not allow that," Klaus stated, his voice rising. "You will have broken a little girls heart because of some stupid infatuation."

Elijah's patience with his brother had worn thin. He had to remind himself that Klaus had suffered so many losses in his long life, that his paranoia had grown into something monstrous. But in times like this, his brother could be utterly cruel, and it was impossible to see him as anything but.

"It's not some stupid infatuation," Elijah seethed, his hands clenched into fists. "I love her, and that's something you will never understand. She has been good for me, and has done nothing but support us. She's not a threat, and you know it. This is the problem with you, you want everyone to suffer as you have."

"That is not what I'm doing-" Klaus began, his voice rising. "She's not one of us, and will never be. You just keep her around as a trophy, to remind yourself that you are capable of caring for another. She doesn't belong here, and it will be her undoing."

Elijah lost his control and snapped. He grabbed his brother and threw him against the wall. Klaus' head hit the stone and cracked loudly. His face contorted into an expression of rage, his eyes flashing gold. He moved forward and punched Elijah in the face, sending him stumbling back. He rushed at his brother and grabbed him by the throat, squeezing tightly. Klaus' anger grew, and his grip tightened.

"Enough!" Hayley screamed, grabbing Klaus' arm and pulling him back. She looked between the two brothers, her eyes wide. "Why are you two fist fighting when my daughter is trying to sleep?!"

Klaus' eyes were wild, and his face was covered in blood, Elijah looked the same, and neither was ready to back down. The only thing stopping them was Hayley's presence. She stood between them, and looked at Klaus. "What did you do? What could you have possibly said to him?" she demanded.

"Y/n isn't family, and never will be," Klaus spat, glaring at Elijah. "I have to protect our daughter."

"Our daughter? You're unbelievable, Klaus," Hayley said, shaking her head. "Go. To. Bed. Both of you," she commanded.

She grabbed Klaus's hand, and dragged him away. Elijah sighed, rubbing his forehead. He looked up and saw you on one of the upper balconies with an unreadable expression on your face.

Had you seen that entire argument? Did you hear the awful things his brother had said about you?

He rushed up the stairs and met you at your bedroom door. You had your bag in your hand, and he knew immediately what was happening.

"You can't," he told you, shaking his head.

"I'm not welcome here," you whispered. "I have to go, Elijah."

"You are always welcome here," he said, reaching for you. "Please, let's talk."

"We have talked," you told him, pushing his hand away. "I've heard everything I needed to hear, Elijah. You keep choosing them over me. It's always your family first, and I understand that, but you have to see how it hurts me. I can't just keep coming second in your life."

"You aren't," he whispered, trying to draw you close, but you gently pushed him away. He felt his heart shatter at the action, and he knew he had lost you. "I want you, I choose you. Don't do this, my love."

You pushed past him, unable to hear anything else he had to say at the moment, you needed space to think, to figure out what you wanted. If this was a fight you could win. "Goodbye, Elijah," you said, giving him one last glance.

He stood there, and he was frozen. How could this have happened? He thought that he had made you understand that this was permanent. That you were forever.

But he had failed to show his love properly and he had to fix what he broke. You were his greatest love, his everything, and he couldn't live without you. He was nothing without you. So he would do whatever it took to bring you back.

Because if you were gone, so was he.

You were staying with Marcel, the only person who understood what it was like to be in the Mikaelson shadow. He wasn't thrilled that Elijah had hurt you, but he did understand that relationships weren't always easy, especially with the Mikaelsons.

He poured you a stiff drink, and let you wallow.

"I shouldn't have gone," you muttered.

"It's Hope's birthday," he pointed out.

"But I should have known better than to get involved like that, it only makes Klaus jealous," you sighed.

"Klaus is a notorious asshole, and Elijah is...well, he's not good with his emotions."

"That's putting it lightly."

You drank the whole glass in one gulp, and poured yourself another.

"I don't know why I thought that he was serious," you grumbled.

"He's serious, but he's also scared," Marcel replied. "It's a lot easier for him to push people away, then have the chance to hurt them."

"It's a terrible feeling, wanting to be a part of a family that doesn't want you," you admitted.

"I know the feeling," Marcel replied, sitting down next to you.

"He told me he loved me. He told me that we were going to spend forever together. And yet, his family still doesn't accept me." You looked up at Marcel, your eyes filled with tears.

"It's just Klaus, the rest of them adore you," he told you.

"How do I get Klaus to trust me? I'm not trying to take his daughter," you insisted.

"Just be patient, give him some time," Marcel advised.

"I've given him four years," you said. "And he's not willing to accept me even a little."

Marcel nodded, and handed you another drink. "Don't worry about Klaus, he'll get over himself."

"And Elijah?" you asked.

Marcel frowned. "That's not my area."

"Yeah," you said, nodding slowly. "Me either."

You and Marcel had a few drinks and talked the night away. By the end, you had almost completely forgotten your heartache, and were simply enjoying the company.

Marcel had fallen asleep, and you were dozing off when your phone buzzed. You opened it and saw a message from Elijah.

We need to talk.

You sighed, and sent him a simple reply.

Tomorrow.

You were far too exhausted to deal with his bullshit right now. You tossed your phone on the coffee table and fell asleep.

The next morning you woke up on Marcel's couch, a blanket thrown over you. You stretched, and grabbed your phone, heading into the kitchen.

Elijah had texted you back.

Meet me outside, I have a car waiting for you.

You frowned. He was sending a car for you? You quickly responded.

Why are you sending a car?

A response came instantly.

It's a surprise.

You shook your head, but smiled a little and texted him back.

Fine, give me 10 minutes.

Hurry, we're on a tight schedule.

You showered, and got dressed, grabbing your bag, and heading out. You gave Marcel a quick goodbye, and hopped into the town car.

Elijah was sitting there, and smiled softly.

"Good morning," he said.

"Morning," you replied.

He looked you over, and you were surprised by the intense gaze. You blushed under his scrutiny.

"What?" you asked.

"You're beautiful," he said softly. "And I'm sorry, for all of this. I never meant to hurt you, or make you feel unwanted."

You shook your head. "I know you didn't," you said. "And it's okay."

"It's not," he told you, reaching for your hand. You let him take it, and he pressed a kiss to your palm.

You flushed, and looked away. "Where are we going?"

"The airport," he replied.

"What? Why?" You were completely confused.

"You are right, I'm not putting you first, and I will not allow that anymore," Elijah replied. "And to prove it, we're going somewhere, just the two of us."

"Where are we going?"

"Italy, we're going to spend a month on the Amalfi Coast." he said, a soft smile on his face.

"A month?" You asked, a hint of excitement in your voice.

"Yes," he nodded, and pressed his lips to the back of your hand. "I've been neglectful, and I need to remind you of how I feel about you.

"Eli, you don't have to do all of this."

"Yes, I do," he replied. "You deserve the world."

He had rented a private plane, and had arranged everything. You were incredibly impressed that he managed to pull it all off in the span of a night.

You sat beside him on the plane, his hand intertwined with yours, and a soft smile on his face. You couldn't help but relax, the last couple of days had been so tense, but you couldn't stay mad at him, and a romantic getaway was exactly what you needed.

As the plane took off, Elijah reached over and brushed your hair out of your face. You lifted the arm rest and cuddled up against him, resting your head on his chest. He held you close, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You missed this, the way he was so attentive, the way he was gentle with you.

"I am sorry, for making you feel second best," he said, his voice low and full of regret.

"I know," you said, reaching up and stroking his cheek. "It's okay, your dedication to your family is part of what I love about you."

You looked up at him and kissed him softly.

"Let's not dwell on the past," you said. "We have a whole month to make new memories."

"I am going to spoil you so much, my love," he said, kissing your nose.

The flight was nearly twelve hours and you immediately fell asleep when the plane leveled out. When you woke up, the sun was starting to set.

Elijah was reading a book, and had his free hand resting on your hip. You smiled, and snuggled closer. He put the book down and looked at you, his eyes soft and full of affection.

"Good morning, or rather evening," he chuckled. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah," you yawned.

You looked out the window, and saw the city below. It was like something out of a dream, colorful houses all stacked up, the sea sparkling as the sun set.

"Welcome to Positano," he said.

"Elijah," you whispered, awe in your voice.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

"It's magical," you gushed.

"Yes, it is."

The plane landed, and a car was waiting. Elijah had rented an entire villa for the two of you. It was stunning, with a view of the ocean, and a private beach.

You walked through the villa, looking at all the art and antiques. It was very much Elijah's taste, and you could see yourself spending a month here.

The moon was out and it cast a soft glow over the sea. Elijah took your hand and the two of you walked down the stairs to the beach.

The sounds of the waves gently lapping on the sand soothed you. You walked down the shoreline, your hands intertwined.

"You didn't have to do all this, you know," you said, leaning against him.

"I know, but I wanted to. I needed to. It was a selfish thing, really," he replied, wrapping his arms around you.

Up ahead you saw something on the beach, it was too dark to make out, but it looked like a bunch of neatly shaped debris.

You walked a little closer, and you could make out the shapes. It was a heart, surrounded by lit candles, and flowers. The words "I love you" written with rose petals on the sand. Suddenly a bunch of twinkle lights were turned on, and the whole scene was lit up.

You turned around to ask Elijah if he had done this, but the words died in your throat. He was kneeling on the ground, a ring box in his hand.

"Y/n," he began, his voice soft and loving.

"What are you doing?" you asked, a bit breathless.

"I should have done this a long time ago," he said. "I should have married you years ago, but I was afraid. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to give you everything you deserve."

"Eli-"

"No, let me finish," he insisted, and continued. "I've spent centuries on this earth, never truly belonging anywhere. Always searching, never finding. Until I found you. My home, my heart, my family."

You were crying, tears streaming down your face. You couldn't really process what was happening, here was the man of your dreams, pouring his heart out, telling you how much he loved you, how much he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

"You are my world, my everything. And I want to spend eternity by your side," he said, opening the box and showing you the ring.

The ring was absolutely stunning, a large ruby surrounded by diamonds. It looked antique and must have been worth a fortune.

"I found this ring almost five hundred years ago, right here in Italy. I knew that when I finally found the right person, I would give it to them," he said, smiling up at you.

"You can't be serious," you said, not intending for it to sound as harsh as it did. You were in complete shock.

"I have never been more serious in my entire life," he replied, his voice firm.

"What will your family say?" You asked, worried about Klaus’ reaction.

"Niklaus can go fuck himself," Elijah grinned. "As for the rest of them, they will be thrilled."

You nodded slowly, letting the words sink in.

"This is insane," you whispered, unable to stop staring at the ring.

"Is that a yes?" He asked, looking nervous. "Will you be my wife?"

"Yes," you breathed, and he took your hand and slipped the ring onto your finger. It fit perfectly, as though it was made for you.

He stood up, and kissed you. You threw your arms around him, your fingers tangling in his hair, kissing him back with every ounce of love you had for him.

"You're my family, you're my home," he whispered, spinning you around. "And I vow, from this day on, you will always come first. I love you."

"I love you too," you murmured, cupping his cheek. "With all my heart."

He pulled you close, kissing you deeply. You lost yourself in his embrace, in the way his hands felt on your body, his lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth.

You both stumbled to the villa, tearing each other's clothes off. Your back hit the wall, and Elijah pushed your skirt up. His hands found your thighs and he squeezed the soft flesh, lifting you up, your legs wrapped around his waist. He kissed along your neck, leaving little marks in his wake.

"My fiance," he muttered against the flesh. "My darling love."

"I like the sound of that," you moaned.

"Then you're going to absolutely adore being called my wife," he grinned, moving his lips down to your breasts.

His kisses turned bruising, biting at the flesh of your tits. He was rough with you and you relished it. It was like he was finally unleashing his feelings, letting out all the love he had for you.

You tugged on his hair, bringing his lips back to yours, hungry for his kisses, drunk off of his affection.

"Bed, Eli," you murmured, but instead, he picked you up and carried you into the shower.

He set you on your feet and turned the water on.

"We are covered in sand," he grinned.

The steam was rising as the water heated up, and the moment it was hot enough Elijah pulled you in with him. You squealed as the warm water washed over you, cleaning you off.

The water was the perfect temperature, a delicious warmth, but not as delicious as the feeling of him pressing into you, pinning your front against the tile.

He reached up, taking your hands and pinning them to the tile wall.

"Keep your hands here," he commanded, pressing a kiss to the back of one.

You nodded, a small moan escaping your lips, he kissed his way down your back. He ran his tongue down the length of your spine. Soft and gentle, teasing over the top of your ass. His hands ran over your legs, and he bent you slightly, opening your cheeks to reveal the most intimate part of you.

"Beautiful," he murmured, before lapping at you.

Your knees nearly buckled as he pressed his face into your flesh. His hands spread your cheeks wide as his tongue dipped into your core. The way his mouth touched every part of you left you dizzy with need. Your thighs clenched, your clit pulsing, ready to be touched.

But you did what he told you, and kept your hands above your head. The porcelain felt cool on your heated skin and he tugged you closer, your hands moving further down as your body was pulled back. His tongue darted into your center, teasing around your hole, his saliva coating you, trailing up, finding your puckered hole, and slowly circling the muscle.

"Elijah," you whimpered, gasping as his tongue worked you open.

He slipped a finger into your dripping cunt, working it inside, pulling it out and sliding it up, moving to replace his tongue on your tight entrance. He swirled around your asshole before pushing the pad of his finger into your tight heat, his mouth sucking on your ass, soft moans escaping him, vibrating against your flesh.

You struggled to keep yourself upright, your hands against the wall, bracing yourself, wiggling against him. The warm water of the shower cascading over you, the sensations were too much and not enough. You were panting, your head tilted back, eyes closed, as you were overwhelmed by his touch.

He pulled back and stood up, kissing along the back of your neck, he placed his hands on your hips and pulled you close.

"Do you want more, sweetheart?" He murmured in your ear, his voice low and seductive.

"Yes," you breathed, arching against him.

His cock was hard, trapped between the two of you. You ground against him, rubbing yourself on his length, desperate for the friction.

"How much more?" He asked, a smirk in his voice.

"All of it," you said.

"Right here, up against the shower wall?"

"Yes, Elijah, please," you begged.

He hummed and reached between the two of you, taking his length and teasing your core with it. He loved making you beg for him, and he loved hearing the desperation in your voice. But you were now to be his wife, and he was going to take care of you.

He eased himself into your center, groaning at the tightness of you, how good it felt to be surrounded by your warmth. You moaned as he pressed inside of you, the thickness of his cock filling you.

He placed his hands on top of yours against the wall, intertwining your fingers.

"I love you," he murmured, his hips moving against you.

"I love you," you moaned, rocking your hips with him.

He took his time with you, savoring the feeling of your body. He had almost lost you, and he needed to remind you how much you meant to him, how he cherished you.

His slow, languid movements were torture, the heat building inside of you, his thick cock rubbing every inch of your pussy. You moved together, the two of you in sync.

Your orgasm started to build, a slow burn deep within. You had never been so turned on, or so loved, the way he held you, the way he whispered your name like a prayer.

"That's it, baby, come for me," he encouraged, his hips picking up the pace.

He could feel the change, and he knew exactly how to push you over the edge. His thrusts became harder, more purposeful. His lips found the sensitive spot on your neck, and he sucked the tender flesh.

Your walls clenched and you fell apart, coming undone for him, moaning his name, over and over. He smiled against your skin, he could stay buried inside of you forever, and never tire of the way you made him feel.

He turned off the shower and pulled you to the bedroom, his lips never leaving yours. He laid you down on the bed, his body on top of yours.

"I can't wait to make love to you every day, for the rest of our lives," he smiled.

"That's a long time, Eli," you teased.

"Not long enough," he smirked.

He took your legs and spread them, kneeling between them. He guided his length into you, and pushed all the way in.

He groaned, loving the way your body opened up to him, the way you felt like home.

"Elijah," you gasped, your hands reaching for him, needing to touch him.

"I love the way you say my name," he smiled, leaning down and kissing you, his tongue licking into your mouth.

He rocked into you, slowly, the feeling of you was addictive. You were his drug and he would never be able to get enough of you. He pictured all the ways he would make love to you, the ways he would please you, worship you.

"My beautiful girl," he groaned, his body on fire, his desire burning, and it only fueled his need.

His hips snapped against yours, and you gripped the sheets, the pleasure coursing through you. Another orgasm was building, the feeling of him deep inside of you, the way he looked at you with such love.

"Come with me, my love," he pleaded, his hand moving between the two of you, finding your clit, his fingers gently rubbing the bundle of nerves.

He was so close, and he was determined to have you come with him, to fall apart for him, together.

You whimpered and moaned, your hips lifting to meet his, chasing the feeling, knowing it was so close. He pressed his lips to yours, and the dam broke, crashing over the both of you.

You came together, moaning, his cock twitching as he emptied inside of you, your walls clenching and milking him, taking everything he had to offer.

You collapsed, boneless, spent, completely and utterly satisfied. He smiled at the sight of you, blissed out and glowing, your hair wet and splayed out over the pillows. . He had never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life.

He laid down next to you, making sure to keep you close. You curled into his chest, and his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight.

"So, tell me more about this wedding of ours," you grinned, holding your hand up to look at your ring.

"I'll arrange everything, don't you worry about a thing," he said softly, nuzzling your neck.

"Is that so? I don't get any input?" you teased, turning to look at him, your lips brushing against his.

"I mean, you can make suggestions, if you'd like," he smirked, his hand running along the curve of your hip.

"Hmm, well, I do think we should get married in Positano," you smiled, and his eyes lit up.

"It’s perfect here, isn't it?" he mused, a soft smile on his lips.

"I want it to be a small wedding," you said, tracing patterns on his chest. "Family and close friends only."

"Of course," he replied. "I want it to be something just for us."

The two of you talked until the early morning, dreaming up your future together, and making plans for your wedding. It would be a simple affair, a celebration of your love, in a beautiful location, with the people who cared about the two of you the most.

The month spent in Italy was something out of a dream, the days filled with long walks on the beach, picnics in the gardens, and nights filled with dancing and drinking. You made love in the most luxurious beds, and in the most unorthodox places, including the rooftop patio one night. You even made it a bit of a game, seeing who could find the best spots to fuck in. Elijah always won, and was very proud of himself, you loved seeing him so carefree, so happy.

There was no talk of his family or what was going on at home. It was like you were in your own little world, just the two of you. But it was time to return home, the news of your engagement was something you both wanted to share in person.

When you entered the compound, Hope came running up to her favorite uncle, Elijah scooped her up in his arms and spun her around.

"Uncle ‘lijah! Auntie y/n you're home!" she grinned, and you smiled at her, ruffling her hair.

"Have you been behaving for your mother?" Elijah asked, carrying her towards the courtyard, letting her tell you both all about what she had been up to while you were away.

"I see the trip did you both some good," Klaus said, walking towards the three of you. His eyes darted to the ring on your finger, the red ruby catching the light. "Is that what I think it is?"

"What is?" Hope asked, looking confused.

"I asked aunt y/n to marry me," Elijah told Hope, smiling sweetly at her.

"You did?" She exclaimed, her eyes wide.

"Yes," you nodded, laughing at the excitement.

Hope hugged Elijah tightly, and Klaus looked at his brother, a hint of a smile on his lips. The sight of his daughter so happy warmed his heart.

"Well, I wish you both every bit of happiness," he said, giving you a tight smile.

"Thank you," you replied, knowing his words were sincere and it was probably the most enthusiastic response you would ever get from him. It was progress and that was enough for you.

Elijah put Hope down, and she took off running, the news of your engagement clearly something she was very excited about. You could hear her yelling the news as she ran through the compound. Rebekah was the first to appear, pulling you into a tight hug.

"Congratulations!" She beamed, and you hugged her back, her enthusiasm contagious. "I better be a bridesmaid."

The rest of the Mikaelson's slowly came and offered their congratulations. Hayley and Freya both hugged you, Marcel shook Elijah's hand and Kol gave you a warm smile. Hope was thrilled, talking a mile a minute about all the ways she was going to help with the wedding.

"Can I be a bridesmaid?" she asked, her cute little face pleading.

You knelt down so you were at her level, taking her hand. "How about something even more special? No one else at the wedding is going to have such an important job."

"What is it?" She asked, her face completely in awe.

"Will you be my flower girl?"

She squealed and jumped into your arms, squeezing you tight. "Really? Yes! I'd love to!"

You laughed and hugged her back.

Elijah watched the scene, a warmth in his chest. You were his family, his home, the missing piece that had made him whole. He had finally found the love he had been searching for.

You caught him staring, and walked over to him, his arm wrapping around your waist. He kissed the side of your head and let out a contented sigh. You were everything he ever wanted and so much more.

"I can't wait to call you my wife," he smiled.

"Neither can I," you said, your lips meeting his, sealing the promise, always and forever.

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

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[imisscherryboy-blog]

running back 2 u

enemies to lovers - football player. ajax x sports med! gn reader

part 1, part 2

spotify playlist (it's good i swear)

story: you and ajax have known each other since elementary school. those years haven't been always the best, as you both parted ways due to your differences in personality. that is, until one hot august night, where the stadium lights illuminate the turf, you find yourself running back to him again.

notes: SMUT, enemies to lovers, modern au, gender neutral reader, childe is referred to as ajax, last name tartaglia, all characters are 18+ as seniors, highschool setting, part 3/3, gn reader, ajax is bi (since it's gn), alhaitham and kaveh are gay, california coded

smut tags: first time, dom ajax, penetration, oral fixations, praise, pet name use, protected sex, oral (we get head), bruising, rough sex, after care

side characters featured: kaveh, alhaitham (alhaitham x kaveh),

warnings: mature themes!!, themes of sexual harassment (not described), drugs, alcohol, smoking, swearing

★ part 3 (last part) ★

ajax came back down with the tylenol and tossed it to you. you caught it and took out two pills.

“water?” you looked at him with a deadpan expression.

“you have cereal milk right in front of you.” he responded with a look that would make anyone want to punch him in the face. you scoffed and took the tylenol dry. it was about 8 am now, and alhaitham came down the stairs.

“you’re still here.?” he asked as he made his way over to the box of cereal.

“someone (you looked at ajax) didn’t let me leave.” you responded.

“…what the hell man let her leave.” he said as he poured out the cereal.

“we uber’d here, ajax offered to drop us once kaveh wakes up.” you responded.

“that’ll probably be a while.” alhaitham nonchalantly said, taking another bite of his cereal.

“it won’t!” you heard kaveh yell from upstairs. it seemed like he was getting his stuff together. you sighed, you just wanted to go home. it would take a minute for the tylenol to actually work, and at that point, your headache was still pretty bad. ajax was on his phone, most likely waiting for kaveh to come downstairs.

“oh, by the way. i’m taking kaveh to homecoming.” alhaitham said. you and ajax both questioned him in unison. “is there something wrong..?”

“yeah- what am i supposed to do??” ajax asked.

“what, you don’t have a date?” you asked teasingly.

“i— not yet- but i will!” he said, clearly pissed off. “we were supposed to hang out!”

“i know, i’m sorry. just happened. i’m sure you’ll find someone.” alhaitham reasoned. “just take y/n with you.”

your face involuntary heated up as you both shouted ‘no’. alhaitham was a funny guy.

“y/n, do you even have a date?”

you paused for a moment, weighing your options. you did in fact have a date. he was some scrawny kid in your english class. he wasn’t bad, but obviously not ideal. it was your senior year and you wanted to say you went to homecoming with someone. if you did say yes, you knew ajax would be jealous; seeing as though he didn’t even have a date in the first place.

“yeah, i do.”

“huh?” ajax said. you had him hook, line, and sinker.

“something wrong?” you asked smirking.

“n-no.” he stammered and just let it go. you had won that one fair and square. just then, kaveh finally came down the stairs.

“well it looks lively down here.” he stated, putting his things on the counter.

“i’ll drop you guys.” alhaitham said, dropping his dish into the sink.

“nuh uh, i said i would.” ajax reasoned.

“you drank last night.” alhaitham stated. alhaitham didn’t drink.

“i slept it off.” he responded.

“you can’t sleep off alcohol bud. i’ll take them.” and just like that, alhaitham grabbed his tesla keys and headed for the door. kaveh said bye to ajax while you just left.

you and kaveh got in the car, kaveh sitting passenger while you sat in the back.

“where are we going?” alhaitham asked kaveh.

“my house, y/n’s car is parked there.” kaveh responded. alhaitham just nodded and left, kaveh giving occasional directions.

“so.. homecoming.” you interjected.

“yeah.. about that.” kaveh started before you told him you already knew.

“well, you’re free to come with us!” kaveh said.

“mm.. you guys aren’t really his crowd. don’t worry about it kaveh. i’ll catch you at the after party.” you said. you felt a little bad, but you weren’t expecting kaveh and alhaitham to really even happen. your logic pinned it on ajax for tearing his acl.

you arrived at kaveh’s house and said bye to alhaitham before going inside to get your keys. inside, kaveh stood by the doorway.

“you’re not mad about me going to hoco with alhaitham.. right?”

“no—kaveh, if anything i’m happy for you. you’ll have a lot of fun, trust me.” you brushed it off, making your way to the door.

“okay, i’ll see you at school then.”

“yeah.” you said as you left his house and got into your car. you waved to him from the car and backed out of the driveway, starting for your house. you felt bad, and you could tell kaveh did too, but there really wasn’t much you could do. after all, homecoming was next week.

the week went by normal. you only saw ajax in passing, he’d stare at you, then look away. he never tried to talk to you. after all, the party was probably the most you two ever talked in a while, and you honestly would be okay to keep it that way—but something in you really doubted that.

homecoming arrived, it was on a saturday at 7pm. kaveh told you that you both could meet up after it was over to find a party to go to, but you highly doubted that would happen. not with alhaitham in the picture. you dressed up, almost over dressing, but just enough to stand out. it was your last homecoming, so you might as well make it a good one. it felt different not being able to get ready with kaveh, like you usually would. but you didn’t let it bother you as you got a text from your date, saying he was outside.

looking your very best, you walked out of the door to see your date—in probably the ugliest car you’ve seen. it was a jacked up camry, with scratches and dents on the side. suddenly, you wished you just took your car there. the night was off to a great start!

the two of you got to the venue, it was beautiful to say the least. it was a hall, just right next to the water. the lights illuminated the water, giving a faint glow to bay. the sun was almost set, painting the sky a hue of blue and purple. you stared at the moon, it was fairly bright. admiring it, you stared at it for a couple more seconds before being snapped out of it by your date.

“my friends are already inside.”

“oh. okay.” you said. he wasn’t much of a talker. you both walked in, noticing the amount of people already there. you felt people staring at you. you couldn’t tell if it was because you looked good, or you went to hoco with an absolute loser. you scanned the room for kaveh and alhaitham, and spotted them near the bar. once kaveh saw you, his jaw dropped, supposedly at how good you looked.

“you look so good, y/n.” kaveh said giving you a hug.

“thanks kaveh, you too.” you smiled. you noticed him glaring at your date.

“well, i’ll see you later, okay?” he said, giving you a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “don’t have too much fun without me.” you nodded and left with your date. you waved to alhaitham, using it as a chance to look for ajax. he was no where to be found.

for the next hour, you couldn’t help but watch the entrance to the hall. your date was practically with his stem friends the entire time, only asking you if you wanted something to drink. you said no every time. sitting on the folding chair, you waited. you didn’t know exactly what you would do if you saw him, but you continued to watch the door, until your date rudely interrupted you.

“waiting for someone?”

“no..”

“okay.” and just like that, he left. you looked back to the door and saw none other than ajax. you cursed your date for taking your focus away from the door. he was wearing his hair slicked back with a small strand in the front. he had a black-silk button up on, with the first three buttons undone (whore). the silver chain undoubtedly brought the whole fit together. unlike the times you’d pass each other in the halls, he spared you no glance. this time, he was with a brunette haired girl on the cheer team. big shocker, you thought to yourself. you quickly got up and joined your date with his friends, still looking at ajax and the girl he was with. your date’s friends just gave you a weird look and continued talking. every time you would sip your drink, you’d sneak in a quick glance.

narrowing your eyes, you noticed that the girl he was with.. looked drunk? you thought maybe the pre-gamed? but ajax looked perfectly sober, in fact he looked almost annoyed. you would pretend to look busy with your date, then look back at ajax. he was now with alhaitham and some of his other friends. his date stuck to his arm, though. she looked far too gone for anyone sober to actually tolerate.

what you didn’t notice, was alhaitham telling kaveh that he kept noticing ajax’s eyes wandering back to you. god bless alhaitham for being the middle man. but that news wouldn’t get to you until far later.

for now, you babysat your drink, until the lights started to dim. ugh, it was slow dancing time. at that point, you and your date, alongside his friends all sat at a table. you sat next to your date. you could feel his eyes boring into you, knowing he was gonna ask to dance. you really didn’t want to. you tried looking for ajax again, noticing he was gone. you felt a nudge on your arm.

“wanna dance?” his face got closer and closer as you got further and further.

“um..” you said, reeling back. he was not getting the hint by any means. all of a sudden, he leaned in for a kiss. you immediately pushed him off of you, standing up and walking away. that was your breaking point. this homecoming could not have been any worse. you’ve spent the entire time just spying on people and pretending to look interested in whatever the hell your date’s friends were going on about. you wished you’d never told ajax and alhaitham you had a date. you wished you were just with kaveh.

like clockwork, japanese denim by daniel ceaser starts playing as you’re heading for the exit. what great timing. you pushed the door open and were met with a cold breeze. it was freezing, but you didn’t care. as long as you were away from everyone for some time, you were happy. kaveh and alhaitham were probably dancing the night away. you found a bench outside near the hall and sat down. the waves of the bay behind you calmed you down a little. but you could help but shake the fact that your last homecoming was a mess.

“well someone looks like they had a shitty hoco.” the guy you’d been stalking for the past hour was now right behind you. (he was doing the same thing so dw) you turned around to see ajax leaning against a wall, next to the bench you were sitting at. how did you not see him?

“yeah. why’re you here?” you stumbled over your words a little, not expecting him to be here at all.

“shitty date, shitty day.” he tossed his cigarette on the ground and crushed it with his shoe.

“smoking outside of the school event is crazy.” you said laughing.

“i told you, it’s medicine.” he said sarcastically. the faint chorus of the daniel ceaser song could be heard from all the way outside. “can i sit?”

“i guess.” you said, trying to keep up the cold front. it didn’t really work, but you figured you’d at least try. after all, you guys hated each other. he took the spot next to you, and stared off into the distance.

“so.. who were you with?” he cut straight to the chase.

“what’s it to you?”

“it physically hurts to see someone so good looking with some fuck ass loser.” well that was harsh. well, anyone that tries to force themselves onto someone deserves that title.

“you’re saying i’m good looking?” you laughed, knowing he’d come up with some stupid excuse. instead, he nodded his head and just looked away. you could’ve sworn you were seeing things.

“anyway, you going anywhere after this?” he asked, lighting another cigarette.

“no, i don’t think so.”

“kaveh said you were going party hopping?”

“i highly doubt it.”

when you two went back and forth, having a normal conversation, it felt like old times. it made you feel like you were talking to your best friend of years. and ultimately, that’s what you guys could’ve been, but it never was.

“what a waste of a lovely night..” he said to himself, looking up at the sky above him.

“was that a la la land reference?” you asked, laughing.

“maybe.” he smiled at you.

“you’re still a movie nerd?”

“yeah, why wouldn’t i be?” he laughed. it went quiet for a second until you finally decided to ask.

“so, what happened with your date?” you asked.

“i felt like i was babysitting teucer the entire time. didn’t want that to be how i remembered my last homecoming.”

“i get that.” you responded.

it was quiet for a couple seconds again until he took the cigarette out of his mouth and had it in between his fingers.

“you wanna ditch this place?” you almost didn’t believe what he was saying.

“anywhere is better than here right now.” you admitted. even if you ‘hated’ ajax, you’d rather be somewhere else.

“kaveh won’t get mad?”

“i’ll let him know.”

and just like that, ajax took his keys out of his pocket and twirled it around his finger.

“where to?”

“anywhere.” you said.

“you got it.” he got up and made his way to the parking lot. you followed closely behind him, suddenly getting hit with the relentless ocean air.

“cold?” he asked.

“i’m fine.” you lied.

you opened the passenger seat to his car and sat down. he reached into the back and grabbed a hoodie that had his number (11) and the logo of your highschool. he threw it onto your lap without a word. you defeatedly put the hoodie on, fitting a little too big for your usual size. but it did the job. he started the engine, and it immediately began to get warm.

“you said anywhere, right?”

minutes passed rather quickly as the two of you just reminisced on past memories of middle school. he didn’t feel like ajax the school whore, but he genuinely felt like your best friend again. it was undeniable that it felt a little more than that. you really had no idea where he was taking you, but you trusted him. and he needed you.

after about twenty minutes, you pulled into the driveway of a large lake house. it was gorgeous to say the least. you knew ajax had money, but damn did you not realize the extent of that. you recalled he has mentioned this house a couple times, but you never actually saw it until now.

“this isn’t even the best part.” he said, turning off the engine, and getting out of the car. he seemed like a little kid again. he took you to the back of the house which was the lake. it was dark and still cold, but something about it didn’t bother you. you and ajax looked out into the large lake, the moon shining down on the water, creating the appearance that someone dumped glitter into the water. needless to say, it was beautiful. he sat on the sand, and you sat next to him.

“i remember you talking about this house.”

“yeah.. i’d come here every summer.”

“not anymore?” you asked to which he nodded his head.

“family shit. it’s not fun anymore.” he stated, looking off into the water. “when i tore my acl, i realized i’ve just been taking everything for granted.” he sighed.

you simply listened to him rant.

“i don’t know, it just feels like i keep hanging onto things that make me happy for two seconds, then moving on and finding something else.”

you honestly wanted to laugh at him just because of how ironic he sounded, but there was a time and place.

“like, being with all my siblings make me happy no matter what. but i keep chasing things that really only keep me sane for so long.”

“like drugs?”

“yeah, like drugs. when i saw my date acting like that, i realized why do we even do it?” he started to draw small shapes into the sand, it was a habit he had when he’d talk about things. did he think you were a genuine source of happiness for him? or was he truly just reminiscing on something else.?

you dropped your arms to your sides and sighed. “why don’t we just forget about everything. for one night.” you proposed. “it’s our last year, might as well save whatever is left of it.” you looked at him to see staring directly into your eyes.

“not a bad idea y/n. that’s rare.” you pushed him at his response, you both laughed. he was staring at you again, you looked back at him. it felt like both of your breathing fell in sync. all it took was one glance at his lips for him to close the distance between the two of you. he turned your head towards him as he kissed you. you didn’t want to think. you decided to fuck repercussions and fuck getting hurt, all you wanted was to be with ajax in that moment. so you kissed him back. your hand went up to his head and the other went to his shoulder. his hands brought you closer to him, to where you were almost on top of him. you broke the kiss for a moment.

“you don’t know how long i’ve been waiting to do that.”

you smiled and found yourself straddling him now, with both of your hands on his face, with his hands at your waist. it felt natural to be completely honest, like you knew exactly what to do. “wait—” he said before looking at you again. “you wanna keep going.?” you swallowed thickly. you had never done it before. but who better than to have your first time with than ajax?

“yeah—but”

“first time?” it’s like he took the words out of your mouth (literally)

you nodded your head to which he smiled.

“you’re so cute.”

“shut up.” you said before kissing him again to be abruptly stopped once again.

“is that a yes?”

“yes dummy.” he smiled and picked you up with ease, putting in a code to the house and taking to you to his room. the house was dark, most likely because no one had been in it for a while. the two of you got up the stairs giggling before reaching ajax’s room. not even bothering to close the door, he laid you down on the bed and wasted no time in getting his lips back on yours. knowing he had your consent, he didn’t hold back. gasps in between each kiss meant one piece of clothing to come off. first was your hoodie, then it was the rest of your clothes. leaving you almost naked aside from your underwear. ajax unbuttoned his shirt, throwing it to the side. he was in between your legs, simply admiring the sight below him. he ran a hand down your waist and to your thigh.

“i’ll take the lead, okay?”

you eagerly nodded your head. you weren’t afraid if you knew it was ajax who’d be taking care of your. slowly, he parted your legs, caressing your thigh. he took the rest of your clothes off, leaving you naked, while ajax still had his boxers on with an obvious tent in them.

“shit—” he cursed to himself at the sight of you.

“i need you, ajax—” you looked at him with pleading eyes. you didn’t want to wait any longer.

“someone’s needy.” he ran his hand down your sex and collected the stickiness already forming. your back arched into his touch, you’d never been touched like this, and you only wanted more. your mouth made an ‘o’ shape as you screwed your eyes shut. you could hear shuffling on the bed as he leveled with your hole. he was eating you out already? did he do that with the other people he’s fucked? that’d be a question for later. your fingers made contact with his orange hair as you tugged on it. you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes roll to the back of his head for a second.

he latched his mouth onto your hole, lewd noises echoing throughout the dimly lit room. one hand was guiding his head while the other muffled your moans.

“ah- a-ajax—!”

you’ve never gotten head from someone, but damn did you know that he was experienced. circling your sensitive spots with tongue made you throw your head back in pleasure. he knew what he was doing and wanted to make it known.

“don’t tell me you’re close already pretty.” he said pulling away for a moment. you were in fact close, but who could blame you? it seemed like he only went went faster at hearing your moans. unbeknownst to you, he was using two fingers in unison with his ministrations on you. you hardly even noticed at how wet you were for him already. you noticed ajax grinding his hips into the mattress, supposedly chasing his release as well.

“m’ close!” you yelped out as your moans got louder and louder at the edge of euphoria, before no longer feeling him on you. your glossy eyes looked at him in the eyes, and he swore he could’ve felt bad.

“sorry pretty, can’t give it to you that easily.” he smirked, taking his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean. you honestly couldn’t blame him, you’d probably be too sensitive to keep going if he let you.

“who knew you tasted this good, любовь?” his chin was covered with your juices, and his eyes were dark. remember how his hair was slicked back when you first saw him? yeah, not anymore.

“you’re so mean.” you sniffled. he ran a hand through his hair, and at the sight of your fucked out look, he went back to your lips. you could taste yourself on him, it only made you want him more. you tried bucking your hips up for any sort of friction, before he pinned your hips down. he whispered lowly in your ear,

“i’ll take care of you, don’t worry.” he went from your lips and now to your neck, nipping and sucking on it to form a bruise. he felt a sense of pride in doing it. he didn’t want to go from girl to boy anymore. he wanted you, and only you. he wanted to make you his.

“w-what about you..?” you asked.

“what about me y/n? it’s your first time, not mine.” he said. you felt bad and wanted to give him a hand job at least, but he squeezed your hand in reassurance that he was fine. “you ready f’me?”

as he asked, he finally took his dick out of his boxers, and you could’ve just up and left. not in a bad way of course, but he was big. you worried you wouldn’t be able to take him. your mouth was just open.

“y/n.?” he asked, ripping a condom out and rolling it on.

“i-i don’t think that’s gonna—”

“i’ll make it fit, don’t worry angel.” well that was a new one. “need me to hold your hand?” he smirked.

“fuck off— ngh—!” your eyes screwed shut at the feeling of his tip in you.

“relax pretty, loosen up for me, yeah?” he said running a hand through his hair, obviously feeling the tightness already. “so tight..”

you eyes were slightly opened and your mouth was parted as you nodded, refusing to watch ajax bully his cock into you. you didn’t want to just give up either, you did as ajax told you and relaxed a little, allowing him to slide into you easier. his eyes were concentrated on getting himself inside you, while your hand covered your mouth and another gripped the bedsheets below you.

“you okay?” he was mostly in, with just the base of his cock out. involuntarily, a tear rolled down your face at the stretch, but you nodded yes. his face went into your shoulder as he felt you tighten up around him, groaning into your skin.

“you can move.” you said quietly.

“you sure?”

“yeah.” with that, he had one hand on the bed frame and the other on your hip.

“i’ll be gentle, don’t worry.” he slipped out of you, and back into you in one swift motion. you moaned out, anyone that was nearby would most likely hear you. he started keeping a steady pace, eliciting lewd moans from you.

“that’s it, you’re doing so good angel.” he said, cursing under his breath. he truly meant it. he really didn’t think he was gonna fit either.

“ngh— faster ajax—!” you said, chasing the pleasure you were beginning to feel. he cautiously sped up his pace, being sure not to use too much force. he treated you like a little glass doll. his hand gripped the bed frame, as his thumb came up to your face to wipe your tears.

“so—fucking good for me, keep taking me like that pretty—” mixes of low moans and pants could be heard from him, most likely not used to virgin pussy.

you couldn’t think straight, all that left your lips were broken moans and his name. his hand ran over your stomach, a noticeable imprint of his cock was splayed over you. he looked at it with wide eyes, and as if something snapped inside of him, he got even faster. your hands went to his back, marking him in your own ways.

“keep tightening around my dick like that— shit, you won’t even remember your own name angel.” his grip on your hip only got tighter. the contrast of his words in unison with the pet names brought you closer and closer to the edge.

“f-feels so good! ajax—!”

“i know it does. you gonna cum? cum with me, ‘kay?” he moaned loudly as you felt his dick twitch inside of you. he was almost louder than you. he was at a ruthless pace, but you didn’t want him to stop. you nodded your head, feeling your nerves about to snap at any moment. “say my name y/n.”

“ajax—!” you moaned loudly before climaxing, feeling the condom fill up inside of you, a lot. “fuck—” you said as you sighed, flopping down onto the bed, slowly coming down from your high. your breathing was still heavy, and so was his.

“you took that like a champ.” he said, pulling off the condom and disposing of it.

“no fucking way you just said that.” you said looking him dead in the eye. he just laughed as he laid next to you on the bed.

“shit, didn’t know you had that in you y/n.” he stated, playing with your hair. “never imagined fucking my childhood best friend into oblivion.” you shoved him in response for the second time that night. “you sure that was your first time?”

“ajax i was literally crying as you put it in i don’t know what to tell you.” he laughed even harder at this. “i’m surprised you didn’t tear your acl even more.”

“no, i think you made it better.” he gave you the most cheesy smile. “anyways, you need help?”

“help?”

“help walking.” he asked dead seriously.

“no i don’t need fucking help walking.” you got up, your knees buckling under you, immediately reaching for the bedside table.

“oh what was that? don’t need help?” he teased as he came to your side and helped you. you showered and ajax found you a big t shirt for you to change into, leaving it by the bathroom. he wanted you to stay, he really did. his football season was fucked, that was for sure. but at least he had his little medic to help him recover in— other ways. he lit a cigarette to help with the serotonin production and sat scrolling through his phone. he saw a text from alhaitham that read:

myqb😘: i’m with kaveh i’ll pass on the party tonight

myqb😘: i hope you got laid man ik tonight was rough

myqb😘: nothing fucking can’t fix 🤑💸

ajax decided not to respond to alhaitham’s message and threw his phone on the nightstand. you got out of the shower wearing his t-shirt.

“i could fuck you again right now.” he said at the sight of you in his clothes.

“give it 1-2 business days.” you laid down on the bed as he put out his cigarette, walking towards the shower.

“don’t miss me too much while i’m gone!” he yelled from the shower.

“oh i won’t!” you responded. you looked outside the large windows in his room. it was a really nice view. you checked out the shelves and found old kids books, probably from when he was little and would spend his summers here. you wondered if his siblings also had separate rooms. you did all this thinking but were reeled back into what just happened a couple of minutes ago. you just fucked your childhood best friend. and it felt really fucking good. you felt a wave of tiredness fall over you. you texted kaveh that you wouldn’t be able to see him tonight, alongside that there was a LOT to tell him. you figured he was with alhaitham so you found a charger and plugged your phone in. you looked at the bed and figured you probably wouldn’t want to sleep on those same sheets, so you took some sheets off of the vacant room next to ajax’s and replaced them. then, were you able to peacefully get into bed. ajax came out of the shower in just his boxers and immediately fell down next to you.

“so.. what are we.?” you decided to ask.

“let’s talk about it in the morning, yeah?”

“okay.” you said.

“all you need to know is that i’d be down to do it again.”you laughed.

“goodnight ajax.”

“goodnight y/n.” ajax wrapped his arms around you, your head was on his chest.

“thanks for saving me today.” you said quietly.

“it was nothing.” he responded, brushing a piece of hair out of your face.

“i just hope you’re day wasn’t entirely screwed up.”

“you made it better.” you admitted.

“i’m glad.”

you shifted your leg, and accidentally hit his knee.

“ow, fuck y/n—”

“whoops.”

and to think it all started with a torn acl.

the end!

—————

tag list:

@zamorazz @a1-ic3 @hexipessimistic @kentply @moloteco-real @lacy-lady @korunimi @nOrm4p30p3th1ng5 @tseleven @peonies4pearl @beabadobeee @ukinya

[celiastjamesoscar]

Cinnamon Girl

Pairings: Sam Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: Getting a dog wasn’t the best idea, but Sam grew to love the fur ball when she found out you were the dog’s vet.

Warnings: light cussing, extremely fluffy, and I think that’s it? Let me know if I missed any!

AN: Came from this request! I had so much fun writing this and I hope you love it!!!

If you guys want to join a Taglist, let me know!

My Masterlist

Word Count: 8.6K

It was supposed to be a quick trip to town; Sam needed some chili powder and beans to finish making her chili, and Tara wanted to tag along. Of course, Tara only wanted to go because she could probably convince Sam to get her something, and that definitely happened; it just wasn’t what Sam expected.

As the two sisters were leaving their local grocery store, there was a piece of paper stuck to the bulletin board, and as soon as Sam read it, she knew it was over for her.

“Oh my god, Sam, look!” Tara exclaimed as she walked to the board and pointed at the paper. On it was a blown-up picture of a mother dog and six puppies next to her, and underneath the photo read the words, ‘Puppies for free. Shar Pei and Malinois mix. Need all six gone, or they go to the pound. Text XXX-XXX-XXXX if you are interested.’

“Sam, we have to get one!” Tara said as she pulled out her phone and texted the number. “Absolutely not,” Sam retorted. She would not have a dog in her household that she would have to take care of inevitably.

“Why do you hate me?” Tara asked with a slight frown. She knew that if she played this card, Sam would have no option but to tell her yes. Sam stammered over her words but eventually said yes when she realized she couldn’t tell her little sister no. Tara let out a happy squeal as she texted the number, and as they left the shop and got into Sam’s car, she got a response. “They said we could stop by and look at the puppies right now if we wanted. And, of course, we want to,” Tara decided for her and her sister as she told the stranger that she was on her way. “Tara, we cannot just show up at a stranger’s house,” Sam retorted, and Tara scoffed at her words.

“We aren’t going to show up randomly; we’ve been invited. And besides, you’ve talked about getting a guard dog for a while,” Tara explained as she put in the stranger’s address and told Sam how to get there.

With a small huff, Sam listened to her sister’s directions, and the pair arrived at the stranger’s house within ten minutes. Any fear of this being a murderer’s house quickly disappeared as soon as Sam turned down a road near a golf course, and country club homes were lined up on both sides of the street. It was close to Christmas time, and every single house had Christmas lights hung up. And as the two looked at the lights, they both guessed that each house paid more for those lights and decorations than they made in a year combined. ‘It’s just October,’ Sam thought to herself as she gazed at the houses.

“Some of these houses are insane!” Tara exclaimed as her eyes followed a house with a giant statue of Jack Skellington dressed as Santa, and Sam hated to admit it; it was pretty fucking insane.

As the two drove by that house, the most beautiful and captivating woman Sam had ever seen stepped out of the house wearing scrubs, and she looked like she was in a hurry. A weird feeling shot through Sam’s chest as she drove past the beautiful woman getting in her car, and for the first time in her life, Sam wanted to ask for that lady’s number.

With a shake of her head, Sam continued her drive for another minute before she parked outside the designated house. It was one of the more expensive houses in the area, and when Tara texted the stranger about looking at the puppies, a sweet older woman came out of the front door and approached Sam’s car with a beaming smile and warm personality.

The woman introduced herself as Andrea and led the two sisters in her lavish home. “I know it sounds awful, but we must get rid of these little guys. My daughter, Y/N, lives just up the road from me, and the sweet thing is a vet. So I know she would kill me if I let one of these cute babies go to the wrong people. But you two look like lovely people,” Andrea explained as she led the sisters through her house and into the living room, where a small area had been boxed off as the mother and her pups slept together. “How old are they?” Sam asked as she looked at the puppies and felt her heart warm at the sight of the babies and their squished faces.

“Almost eight weeks; Y/N says that’s good for them to stay with their mother for that long,” Andrea replied as she opened the gate and allowed Sam and Tara to walk in. At the sound of footsteps approaching, a couple of the puppies began to stir, and one walked toward Tara and started to rub its face against the girl’s leg. “Hey, little guy,” Tara said as she squatted down and petted the puppy, “Am I allowed to pick it up?”

“Of course! Look at as many as you like; please wash your hands before you pick up the next one. Y/N’s rules,” Andrea said with a smile. Tara picked up the puppy and giggled when the dog licked her face.

The puppy was a brownish color with some shades of black and the softest ears Tara had ever felt. Along with his soft ears, he had the wrinkliest face of a Shar Pei and the stiff body of a Malinois. He had these brown beady eyes that Reminded Sam of Tara, and as she watched her sister play with the dog, she knew the two would be a handful. The dog might not be the best guard dog in the future, but at least he will keep Tara out of Sam’s hair.

After discussing it with Andrea, the two sisters adopted the dog and wrote down the advice of Y/N. “You know, I seriously think you and my daughter would get along perfectly, Sam,” Andrea stated as she walked toward Sam’s car. The mother was carrying a few bags of soft dog food and a more oversized bag for when he gets bigger, recommendations of Y/N, of course. “Oh, yeah? How come?” Sam questioned as she opened Tara’s door; her sister was carrying the puppy that had now fallen asleep in her arms and shut the door.

“I don’t know. Call it a mother’s intuition, but I know you two would get along,” Andrea replied with an all too-knowing smirk that Sam didn’t pick up on. If she played her cards right, she could finally set her daughter up with someone who wasn’t a psychotic woman who tried to murder people on occasion.

Not that your dating history was terrible; you just preferred women who might try and kill you in your sleep.

“What place does she work at? We’ll need to find him a good place,” Sam asked as she opened the back doors. “She works at Ocean Boulevard, just off of Cornelia Street,” Andrea replied as she placed the bags of dog food in the seat, and Sam closed the door.

“I’ll have to give it a try. Thank you,” Sam said with a smile as she said goodbye to Andrea, got in her car, and drove back home with a new addition to the family. As she drove away, Andrea pulled out her phone and called you, too excited to tell you about the new romantic partner she found for you. She might have been an over-the-top mom and was always trying to set you up with women, but she had a good feeling about this young lady.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of soft scratching and whimpering woke Sam up from her peaceful slumber. She groaned as she checked the time and cussed as she saw that it was a quarter past 1. “Warner, come on. We have to go to bed,” Sam heard Tara whisper outside the door, but it was too late; Sam was already getting out of bed.

“Hi,” Tara weakly said with an awkward smile as she held the puppy close to her chest. “What are you doing up?” Sam questioned as she looked between her sister and the dog.

“Warner wanted to come and visit you, and he wouldn’t stop crying until he got to see you,” Tara replied as she held the dog toward her sister. Sam winced when he yawned in her face, and the smell of puppy breath invaded her nostrils. “Well, he got to see me. Now tell him to go back to bed,” Sam commanded as she got back in bed, leaving Tara standing in her doorway.

“But he wants to sleep with you,” Tara spoke for the dog as she sat him on Sam’s bed. And sure enough, he walked toward Sam and made himself at home on the woman’s chest.

With a small huff, Sam allowed the dog to sleep on top of her while Tara climbed into her bed. “Not you, too,” Sam groaned, but Tara shushed her and quickly fell asleep.

As the minutes ticked by, thoughts of regret plagued her, but she was glad to see her sister this happy. And who knows, maybe she was about to meet the vet daughter Andrea was talking about.

Almost like a prayer, not even a week after Sam went to bed with the thought of you, she had to take Warner to the vet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Sam came home from work, she only wanted to relax, drink some wine, and watch a movie or two. But all that came crashing down when she returned to a crying Tara sitting on the floor holding a more than excited Warner. “Oh my god, Sam! Thank god you’re finally home!” Tara exclaimed through tears as Warner wiggled out of her arms and came prancing toward Sam.

“What’s wrong, Tara?” Sam worriedly asked as she dropped her bag and went to Tara’s side. “Warner ate one of my Legos!” Tara shouted as she picked up the dog and placed a loving kiss on his head. Warner then tried to lick Tara and whined when she dodged it. The puppy seemed ignorant to the crying girl who feared for his life, and all he wanted to do was lick Sam and Tara.

“He seems fine,” Sam coldly replied, but when Tara gave her a death glare, Sam stood up and grabbed her back, “Alright, let’s take him to the vet then.”

The car ride to the vet was silent as Tara tried to calm down while Warner happily licked the more petite girl’s hands. It might sound stupid to most, but taking care of Warner meant that Tara could actually care for herself in her own eyes. She believed that if she kept the dog alive and gave him a long and happy life, she could also have that same life.

“I think he’s fine,” Sam stated but quickly regretted her words when Tara smacked her arm, and she swore she heard Warner do his dog version of a laugh. Sam could not wait until they got to the vet just to prove to her sister that the dog was perfectly fine.

And Sam also hoped that you would be there as well. Not that she was particularly interested in meeting Andrea’s daughter, but she wanted to see if you actually lived up to your mother’s kind words about you. And when Sam met you, she knew that Andrea was right, and then some, as the Latina could not pull her eyes away from you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a prolonged day at the clinic today, nothing too crazy except for the occasional ‘help, my dog swallowed a mysterious item.’

“If I had a dollar for every time someone came in here because their dog swallowed something they weren’t supposed to, I would be rich!” Your coworker, Noah, exclaimed. You two have known each other for years, as you went to high school together, and both decided that you two wanted to go to veterinary school together as well. The two of you got along so well because you both never dated in the same pool of people.

“I feel your pain, but the night is still young, and I bet you that we will have another one,” you replied as you rolled over to his desk in your chair. “Are you seriously playing Solitaire right now?”

Noah scuffed at your question as he continued his game on the computer. “Yes, I am, thank you very much. And I am quite good at it; I shall have you know,” he sassed back before turning his attention away from his game and looking at you, “Your mother told me that she had found someone for you. Is it true?”

You sighed as you leaned back in your chair and threw your back. “Dude, you have no idea. She called me as soon as she met this woman. She went on this long-ass tangent about how I seriously need to give this woman a chance because ‘she had the softest brown eyes and held all the warmth I would need,’” you finished with a quote from your mother.

“She sounds like a real charmer,” Noah replied, “But seriously, how much should we trust your mother’s opinion? You remember the last girl she set you up?” At the mention of your last relationship, you shuttered. “Yeah, let’s not bring that up again. And besides, when did this turn into a ‘we’ thing?”

Noah scoffed at your words that cut him deep. “We have a bond, you and I. We shared a room on our trip to Italy because the group wanted to ‘contain the gayness’ so no one would contract it. That’s a bond that doesn’t break!” He exclaimed with a smile. “Being for real, though, You’re my best friend, and I want what’s best for you, even if that means having to butt heads with your mother from time to time.”

I know,” you said with a sigh, “I mean, at least she’s making an effort. Even if she sets me up with crazy ass women.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Noah joked as he returned to his solitaire game while you stood up. “You know, I kinda want to meet this woman. Just to prove to my mom that all the women she tries to get me with are absolutely insane,” you joked as you grabbed your telescope and put it around your neck while leaving the reception area.

Just when you started to walk into the back room to check on the animals that were staying overnight, the front door opened, and the bell rang. “Your turn to get it,” Noah stated while making no effort to check to see who was at the door.

You huffed at his words while walking toward the front door, and your breath hitched in your throat. Standing before was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen, and she wore a tight, long-sleeve shirt that hugged her muscular arms perfectly. The shirt was also tight on her torso area so that you could see the faintest of an outline of her abs. And those eyes, you swore that they were the softest eyes you had ever seen, big and brown and enticing. All you wanted to do was get lost in them, but your mind was quickly pulled out of the gutter when a more petite woman stepped out from behind the alluring woman while holding a small puppy in her arms.

“My dog swallowed a Lego!” The girl exclaimed while walking closer to you, and you threw an evil glance at Noah when he chuckled at the girl’s statement. “Alright, let’s see what I can do for it. May I?” You politely asked with a smile while holding out your arms. The girl was hesitant initially, but after a slight nudge from the taller woman, she reluctantly handed you the puppy.

“Follow me,” you said while walking down the hallway and opening up a door to a room. You placed the dog on the metal table, and he automatically curled up into a ball and closed his eyes. “I’m going to need you to fill out these papers while I get the ultrasound set up and ready to go,” you stated while putting some paperwork on a clipboard with a pen and handing it to the more petite girl, as she seemed to be the one who cared about the animal the most.

While you got the ultrasound ready, you couldn’t help but feel eyes on you, and when you met them, you gave the taller woman the softest smile, and Sam felt her heart melt. When she first got here, Sam noticed your badge, and her heart did flips when she saw that it said ‘Y/N L/N,’ and Sam prayed that you were the daughter of Andrea.

“Here you go,” Tara said while handing you the clipboard, and you told her thank you as you took it from her. “‘Warner?’ That’s an odd name for a dog,” you stated as you looked over the sheets for the dog.

“Yeah, I named him after my favorite book character,” Tara replied embarrassedly as her eyes looked bashfully at the floor.

“Please tell me you did not name your dog after Aaron Warner,” you deadpanned as you stared at the girl.

A few beats of silence passed before she admitted, “Yes, I did.” You chuckled as you set the clipboard down and turned on the ultrasound machine. “I’m going to ignore what you just said,” you joked with a smile, and Sam had to fight back the feeling of jealousy that stirred in her chest.

“Okay, so I’m going to do an ultrasound on Warner’s stomach to see the location of the Lego, and then, depending on its location, I will be able to tell the best course of action. Is that alright with you?” You asked as you sat in your chair and rolled over the metal table.

“Yeah, that’s fine with me,” Tara replied as she walked over to the table and gently ran a hand down Warner, causing the dog to open his eyes and yawn.

A few minutes passed while you performed the ultrasound, and when you found the object in the puppy’s stomach, you pointed to it on the screen. “You can see the object right here. Now, he will be able to pass it just fine; giving him cooked asparagus will help him have bowel movements, and he should secrete it in a couple of days,” you explained as you turned off the machine and rubbed the dog’s head for good measure.

“Thank you so much,” Tara replied as she picked up the dog. “It’s no problem,” you replied while opening the door and motioning for the sisters to follow you to the front desk.

“Just come back in a week's time for a checkup, and I can do his routine checkup as well,” you stated while filling out a business card with your number and the clinic's address, and you handed it to Sam. When she took the card, her fingers brushed against yours, and you both felt a spark shoot through your fingertips and quickly spread throughout your bodies. Both of your heartbeats quickened and matched in rhythm, both of you too shocked to say anything for a few moments.

‘Umm… How much do I owe you?” Sam eventually asked after she put your card in her wallet. Realizing that you were still at work and needed to take money from this woman, you hated your job at that moment. “You don’t owe me anything,” you offered with a smile as you printed off the receipt for Sam.

A small laugh escaped Sam’s lips as she started to pull out her credit card, but you quickly placed your hand on the woman’s wrist, stopping her movements. “I’m serious; you don’t owe me anything. Consider this pro bono,” you said as you gave Sam’s wrist a gentle squeeze and a loving smile.

The feeling of your hand on her wrist gave Sam wartime she didn’t need, and she felt her heart rip apart when you pulled away after keeping your hand on her for a second too long. “I can’t let you do that,” Sam stated as she shook her head and handed you her card, and you accepted it only to hand it back with a smile. “Consider this a treat, and you can repay me by coming back next week for a check-up,” you reasoned.

A few moments of silence passed as you had a silent battle with Sam, but eventually, she surrendered and put her card away. “Are you sure?” Sam asked one last time; she hated having to be in people’s doubt, as it seemed that they held something over her head. But the thought of being in your doubt didn’t sound bad for some unknown reason.

“Oh yeah, I’m positive,” you responded as you followed the sisters toward the door and held it open for them. She didn’t know why, but Sam wanted to introduce herself to you. It might be because you just waived her undoubtedly costly vet bill or because she found herself attracted to you.

“Well, thank you. Seriously. I don’t know how I could ever repay you,” Sam said while sticking her hand toward you, “I’m Sam, by the way.”

‘You can repay me by letting me take you on a date,’ you helplessly thought but said, “It’s nice to meet you, Sam. I’m Y/N,” while shaking the woman’s hand.

Her rough hands felt heavenly against yours, and you could feel her strength as she tried her best to treat your hand with gentleness, something she wasn’t used to. You found yourself getting lost in her chocolate eyes, and you questioned how thieves bothered with petty art while her eyes existed; they seemed priceless to you.

An awkward throat cleared beside you, and you quickly dropped Sam’s hand while Tara looked between you and her sister. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Dr. Y/N, but me and my sister have to go,” Tara commented with an evil smirk; she could not wait to interrogate her sister about her tense exchange of names with you.

“I’ll see you next week, yeah?” You asked the girls, but in reality, you were only talking to Sam. “Of course,” Sam responded with a smile as her eyes quickly checked you from head to toe before leaving the clinic with her sister.

Once they had left the building, an arm was flung around your neck, and Noah pulled you against his body, “What did I just witness?”

“Nothing, just a friendly exchange,” you replied as you shoved Noah off you and sat at the reception desk. “Bullshit. You never offer free stuff because it will come out of your paycheck. And you and I both know that was over 500 dollars,” Noah retorted while standing over your shoulder.

“I know that.”

“Then why did you do it?”

“Because I felt like it was a nice thing to do.”

“Nuh-uh. You just saw a pretty woman and instantly fell to your knees. You disgust me,” Noah joked with a disgusted face. “Oh, like you haven’t done worse. Remember that Tinder guy? You had made me drive you an hour to where he lived so we could stalk him at work!” You exclaimed as you recalled the memory.

“That wasn’t my fault! I needed to know if I was being catfished! And I was!” Noah defended, but after a few moments, he decided to let it go; he knew he would never win an argument with you.

“Mhm, that’s what I thought,” you smugly said as you began writing down notes on Warner, and once you were done, you checked the time and stood up. “Alright, it's time for me to clock out. I’ll see you later, Noah,” you stated while grabbing your belongings and walking toward the front door.

“I’ll see you,” Noah called out with a wave of his hand while you disappeared outside.

The drive back to your apartment was a quick one and one filled with the thoughts of Sam. You knew it was stupid, but you couldn’t help but feel an undeniable attraction to the woman you had just met. Based on the details your mother had given you about the woman she told you about, you knew that this was the woman she mentioned. Those big, brown eyes and soft smile, you were head over heels for that woman. And unbeknownst to you, she is also head over heels for you as well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What the fuck was that?” Tara questioned as soon as they got into Sam’s car. “Hmm? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sam guiltily replied. She had hoped that her sister wouldn’t have picked up on her unmistakable fascination with you, but Tara knew Sam like the back of her scarred hand.

“Yes, you do. Why did you feel it was necessary to introduce yourself to her? You hate it when people know your name, especially strangers,” Tara challenged. She would get an answer from Sam, whether the woman wanted to admit it or not.

With a small sigh, Sam started the car and drove toward the apartment before answering, “I just felt like it was needed since she paid for the bill. Nothing else.”

“Mhmmmmm,” Tara replied as she studied her sister. She knew Sam was lying, but she wouldn’t press her for more information. Not now, at least.

Sam was grateful that Tara didn’t press on anymore, and she enjoyed the silence as she hoped she would be the one to bring Warner back to the vet. She found comfort in your soft and calloused hands, and for the first time in her life, she wanted to be held by someone. And if you had her without hurting her, you would be the first who ever did.

Sam knew it was crazy to feel this way toward someone she had just met not even an hour ago, but there was an undeniable spark that you both felt when your hands met. And she was pissed that she had to wait a week to see you again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That week was the slowest and most dreadful week of Sam’s life. Work sucked, and she had to work doubles almost daily, but she vowed to repay you for the vet bill. She thought about inviting you over for dinner to repay you, but she figured that you would want actual money instead of a nice, home-cooked meal where the secret ingredient was love and yearning.

Only when it was time to take Warner to the vet did she get out of bed with excitement, threw on a tank top that showed a little bit of her belly, and put on her trusty bomber jacket over it.

“Alright, Tara. I’m taking Warner to the vet,” Sam called out as she picked up the puppy and grabbed his leash. Warner started getting a little bit bigger now, but he was still small enough for Sam to hold him with one arm.

“What? I thought I was taking him?” Tara confusingly asked as she exited her room and frowned when she saw Sam heading toward the door. “And why are you so eager to take him?”

“I’m not; I just want to get this over with. And you can’t take him because you have your English paper due tonight,” Sam reasoned, even though she wanted to take Warner to see you again.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take him because you want to see the pretty vet lady again?” Tara questioned with a playful smirk and thought, ‘Got ya,’ when Sam quickly scoffed and automatically denied the accusation.

“Why would I want this little shit to the vet just to see someone? That’s absurd,” Sam denied as she grabbed her purse backpack, put it on her back, and opened the door. “But I’ll pick you up some food on my way back.”

Tara knew what that translated: don’t tell the twins, and I’ll give you some ‘hush food.’

“Sounds good! Be nice, Sam. And remember: don’t be silly, wrap your Willy,” Tara joked with a smirk while she walked back into her room and shut her door.

“I don’t need to wrap my Willy, do I, Warner?” Sam asked once she left the apartment and rubbed the dog’s chin. Warner responded with a small yelp while licking Sam’s fingers, agreeing with Sam in his way. “Come on, little guy. Let’s get you to the pretty vet lady,” Sam told Warner while walking toward her car.

She opened her door and sat him on the passenger seat, and naturally, he curled up into a ball and went to sleep. It amazed Sam how much the little shit slept; she was positive he slept at least 14 hours a day and was only awake to torment her. But Sam couldn’t say anything to Tara about it, as she believed Warner was the sweetest little guy out there. The two had that in common: both being little guys who were absolute devils when left by themselves. Sam had lost count of how many shoes he had destroyed, and she also lost count of how many fights Tara started with literal children on Roblox. It was safe to say that Sam was constantly busy between the two, and she only wanted to relax with you.

When Sam arrived at the clinic, she put Warner on his leash, held him just for a safe measure, and walked inside. “Hello, Warner is here for his check-up,” Sam said once she reached the reception desk. “Okay, Doctor Y/N is finishing up an orchiectomy, and then she’ll be right out. You two can have a seat right there while you wait,” the receptionist politely stated as she motioned to the waiting area.

Sam told the lady ‘thank you’ and sat in one of the chairs and Warner in her lap. She’d rather die than let the shit step foot on the ground for even a second, and she was grateful when he went to sleep. Several minutes passed while Sam tried to calm her mysterious nerves, and her phone vibrated, and she scoffed when she read the text message.

Tara: How’s it going with lover girl??

Sammy 👻: Waiting for her to get done chopping the nuts off a dog. Why?

Tara: Ummmm because you seemed way too eager to take Warner to the vet this morning

Sam’s phone vibrated with another message, but she didn’t get to read it when her head instantly shot up when she heard your soft, angelic voice. “Alright, make sure he keeps his cone on and doesn’t do anything too crazy,” you told an old woman who held her dog close to her chest. “Oh, I will, sweetie. Thank you so much,” the old woman replied with a voice that spoke with years of knowledge.

Sam watched as you held the door open for the woman before you turned to Sam, and when your eyes made contact, a giant smile grew on your face. “Where’s the sister?” You asked with a lovesick grin as you walked to Sam and stopped before the sitting woman. “She stayed home. Had a lot of homework to do,” Sam replied as she stood up and held Warner close to her chest. The dog started to wake up, and he whimpered with excitement when he saw you and began to squirm out of Sam’s hold to get to you.

“Hey, little guy,” you said softly as you reached out toward the dog, and Sam eagerly handed him over to you. You gave Warner scratches behind his eye, and he tried to lick your hand in ‘thank you.’ “You can follow me,” you told Sam as you began walking down a hallway and opened a door to an examining room.

Sam sat down in the corner of the room while you sat Warner on the examining table and rolled your chair over to the table. “How has he been since his last visit?” You asked as you put on gloves. “He’s been fine other than being a little shit most of the time,” Sam responded with a slight chuckle as her phone started to blow up with chain messages from Tara.

A small gasp left your lips as you pretended to be shocked, and you tried your best to ignore Sam’s phone. And your heart pinged with jealousy at the thought of someone calling Sam their girlfriend. You covered Warner’s ears and kissed his head, “Don’t listen to her. I bet you’re the sweetest thing ever.” The Latina scoffed at your words, but she enjoyed seeing how Warner loved you and the attention you gave him. She found comfort in that you could display such love for an animal and hoped that one day you could show her the same passion.

“Alright, little guy. Let’s start your exam,” you stated as you gave Warner’s head one final pat before grabbing your stethoscope and putting it in your ears. Sam’s phone continued to receive messages, and you couldn’t take it anymore, and you had to know.

“You got a boyfriend?” You asked while your eyes darted between Sam and her phone, which vibrated with text messages while you held the end of the stethoscope to Warner’s heart.

“Why? You wanna ask me out on a date?” Sam joked with a smile as she tried to hide her nervousness and turned on ‘do not disturb’ on her phone. She had no idea why you would ask her that question unless it pertained to her phone, which was being assaulted with chain messages from Tara.

“Maybe. Do you have a boyfriend?” You questioned with a flirtatious smile as your eyes scanned Sam’s muscular body, and your mind was instantly filled with the thoughts of you and her tangled in bedsheets. You moved the scope to Warner's lungs as you tried to return to reality.

“No,” Sam replied as she raised her eyebrow, trying to see what angle you were playing at.

“You never told me your last name,” you observed while listening to Warner’s breathing with your stethoscope.

“Why do you want to know my last name?” Sam asked with a nervous chuckle, hoping that you didn’t know her name from the Subreddits that accused her of the 2022 Woodsboro murders or that you didn’t read Gale Weathers’ latest book that called her a born killer and mentally unstable.

“Because I want to know what my future last name will be,” you confidently stated with a smirk as your mischievous eyes met Sam’s soft ones. You set down the stethoscope and then placed your hands on Warner’s stomach.

“Moving a bit quick, aren’t we?” The Latina pointed out after a few seconds. Tension filled the air with every second that passed, and even Warner seemed to pick up on it as his small head darted from you to Sam.

“Maybe, but U-Haul lesbians exist for a reason,” you reasoned as you palpitated Warner’s stomach, checking for abdominal pain or masses.

“I guess so. But seriously, why do you want to know?” Sam pressed on, “It’s Carpenter, by the way.”

You already knew her last name was Carpenter from the paperwork she filled out during the first visit; you just wanted to mess with her a little bit. And also find out if she had a boyfriend in the process.

“Because I would like to take you out to lunch sometime,” you said as your eyes refused to meet Sam’s. Any confidence that you had earlier disappeared when you asked the million-dollar question. “Only if you want to go, of course.”

“I would love to go to lunch with you,” Sam replied with a genuine smile, something she wasn’t used to doing. “Sweet! I’ll, um, I’ll give you my number once I finish up with him,” you embarrassingly said as your eyes met with Sam’s, and you smiled when you saw the excitement in hers.

Once you finished Warner's exam, you told Sam that everything was fine and that he should return next year for his next checkup. As you walked Sam out of the clinic, you pulled out a small notepad from your white lab coat and wrote down your number. “You don’t have to call me or anything, but I would like it if you did,” you told Sam with a smile as you ripped out the paper and handed it to her.

Sam gladly accepted the paper and put it in her jeans pocket, “I’ll text you when I get home, Y/N. It was nice to see you.”

“Yeah, likewise,” you responded as you held the front door open for Sam, and she left with Warner climbing over her shoulder and howling at you, telling you that he was going to miss you.

And true to her word, as soon as Sam stepped foot in her apartment, she set Warner down, and he automatically took off to Tara’s room while she texted you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two of you talked every day, and you started to have lunch with each other every Friday. You two would talk about your week and your plans for the weekend while also talking about your personal lives. You told Sam everything about your childhood, and in turn, she started to open up more around you.

During your fourth lunch together, Sam opened up completely about her past. She was terrified that she would drive you away and ruin any chance at having a romantic relationship with you when she told you about her schizophrenia, past drug addiction, her biological father, and how she was in the most previous Ghostface attacks in Woodsboro.

“I knew about the attacks, Sam,” you told the woman once she finished speaking, and you gently reached your hand across the table and took one of hers in yours. You traced soft patterns on her hand with your thumb, “Thank you for trusting me enough to open up about them.”

Sam was dumbfounded at this news. She could not believe that you knew about the attacks but said nothing. “How come you didn’t say anything?” Sam deadpanned as her walls started to come up again, but she allowed you to still hold her hand and trace patterns on her skin.

“Because I figured it was something you would want to tell me on your own time or never talk about it,” you honestly replied, and Sam found comfort in your words as you continued, “I’m sorry if I upset you from keeping that from you. I didn’t know how you would react if you knew that I already knew about some things in your past.”

A dry chuckle escaped Sam’s lips, “I honestly probably would have ran if you would have told me.”

“Well, I’m glad I didn’t then,” you responded with a small laugh, and Sam gave your hand a gentle squeeze, grateful that you didn’t rush anything with her or try and force her to talk about her past.

Things between the two of you changed after that lunch; you two would FaceTime whenever you couldn’t see each other, and you would talk on the phone every night just before bed. The feelings you bore for Sam grew even deeper the more you spent time talking to the woman, and her feelings did the same.

Whenever the two of you didn’t have to work the next day, you would stay the night at the Carpenter apartment, and you were even invited to their game nights every Friday night. You quickly bonded with Mindy and Tara, and sometimes, when Sam was at work, they would invite you over for their horror movie night. You would engage in debates with her, and after enough conversations, you earned Mindy’s approval to date Sam, even though she would never tell you that.

Tara was a bit harder to win over, but when Warner would fight out of her grasp and make his way to you and how the little shit would lick your face as you laughed uncontrollably, she knew you were the one for her sister.

Sam was still the hardest to win over, ultimately. Yes, you were on her mind every second of every day, and she fantasized about what it would be like to wake up with you in her arms every morning and call you hers, but she was still scared of commitment. Sam wanted to love you; she needed to love you, but she was also terrified that you would hurt her in the end. And that is the reason Sam is in this current situation.

“Trust me, Sam. Women are crazy; just ask your sister. Finding the right woman is like finding a needle in a pile of needles: it’s impossibly stupid. But luckily, I have the woman of my dreams,” Mindy exclaimed with her hands, adding extra emphasis to her words while Tara nodded along. Mindy had forced Sam to sit down in the living room and lecture her on dating women, and she also had gathered the women of the group to talk to Sam and convince her to ask you out, whether Sam wanted to or not.

“Don’t try and flatter me after you called all women crazy,” Anika dryly stated. “Sorry, love. But anyway. Sam, you have found yourself a woman who is that needle in a needle stack, so you better not let her go!” Mindy shouted, and Sam shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She hated being the center of attention, especially during this current conversion. She had been with a few women before, but she had never dated one. And Sam also hated getting advice from one of the children she used to babysit.

“Alright, fine, I’ll ask her on a date,” Sam defeatedly said as she pulled out her phone and opened up her messages with you, “what the fuck are you doing?” Mindy questioned as she took Sam’s phone away from her.

“I was going to ask her on a date, just like you told me to,” Sam retorted as she reached for her phone, but Mindy held it away.

“Nope. You have to do it in person. Like a big girl.”

“That was not in the agreement. I have to ask our Y/N, and you never told me how.”

“Well, new rule: you have to do it in person!” Mindy exclaimed as Sam scoffed at the younger girl. “Mindy, we should let Sam do it however she wants. The point is that Sam will ask Y/N out, not how she will do it,” Tara reasoned. Mindy hated to admit it, but the little shit was right.

“Alright, fine,” Mindy huffed as she handed Sam her phone back, “But you better not fumble.”

“I’ll try not to,” Sam replied as she typed out her message to you, ‘Would you like to go on a date with me sometime?’ And she eagerly waited for a text message back as her nerves started to grow. Sam was on the verge of texting you and apologizing, but she saw that you had already responded.

Dog whisperer: Of course!! I was starting to wonder when you would finally ask me ;)

Sam 😮‍💨: Haha, very funny. Want to grab some dinner and come back to my place to watch a movie later today?

Dog whisperer: You don’t even have to ask! I’m free around 6

Sam 😮‍💨: Sounds good! I’ll pick you up then.

The smile on Sam’s face was comical as she texted back and forth with you while ignoring the insults being thrown at her by Mindy. She didn’t care; as long as she had you, she would deal with everything with a smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The date was excellent; you two went to a fancy restaurant, and you had to restrain yourself as Sam wore a tight, black dress that hugged her body perfectly and displayed her muscular arms. You two joked back and forth throughout the dinner, and when it was time to leave, you went to Sam’s apartment.

Sam gave you some more comfortable clothes to change into, and she did the same. You held the shirt to your nose and breathed in the comforting smell of Sam before you realized how weird that was and changed into the clothing. When you came out of the bathroom and joined Sam on the couch, the Latina lost her breath when she saw you in her clothing, and she couldn’t help but wish she could see you in her clothes all the time.

You guys watched shitty romcoms well into the night, and at some point, you fell asleep with your head in Sam’s lap. Not wanting to make you uncomfortable, Sam carefully stood up and placed a pillow underneath your head while she went to the loveseat couch and slept.

For numerous weeks, you and Sam would spend a couple of evenings a month doing that, and eventually, you worked up the courage to place a loving kiss on Sam’s check after you dropped her off at her apartment one evening.

By this time, it was well into December, and Sam was falling in love with you. You two didn’t put any labels on your relationship, but you both had feelings for each other even though neither of you said anything.

“Would you want to go ice skating with me later today?” You asked Sam as you were in her kitchen and helping her wash dishes. You had been invited over for dinner with the core four plus Anika, and while the rest of the group was in the living room watching a basketball game, you stayed in the kitchen to help Sam clean up.

“I would love to, but I have to warn you; I haven’t ice skated before,” Sam responded with a small laugh as she dried off a plate.

“That’s alright. That just means we will have more fun,” you stated with a smirk as you pulled out a dish from the sink and began rinsing it off. “Yeah, it will be so much fun when I fall on my face,” the raven-haired woman joked as she walked over to you and grabbed a plate with her left hand. A surge of boldness shot through Sam as she placed her right hand on your lower back and kept it there, silently waiting for you to push her hand off you. But when you turned to look at her with that soft smile only reserved for her and your eyes quickly glanced down at her lips, Sam moved her right hand even more, wrapped it around your hip, and pulled you close to her.

“I would love to go with you,” Sam whispered as she kissed your head. Long forgetting about the dishes, you dried your hands off and gently cupped Sam’s cheeks as your heart began to pick up its pace. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears as you slowly brought Sam’s face close to yours, and you could feel her breathing against your lips.

“May I kiss you?” You asked against Sam’s lips, and when you felt her nod, you slowly leaned, and you could feel the outline of her lips against yours when Mindy came stomping into the kitchen.

“Do not make out in front of my ice cream cake, you disgusting perverts!” Mindy exclaimed as you and Sam pulled apart at lightning speed. Sam awkwardly cleared her throat as she watched Mindy take a fork, shove it into the middle of the cake, pull out a ginormous slice, and put it on a plate before disappearing back into the living room, but not before sending you two a playful wink.

A few beats of silence passed before you cleared your throat, “So, about that ice skating?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On New Year’s Eve night, you took the group to go ice skating at Rockefeller Center. To say that the trip was a disaster would be an understatement. From Tara skating around like Tonya Harding and then purposely tripping small children that got in her way, to Mindy and Chad refusing to leave the guard rails while Anika tried to pry Mindy away from them.

“Come on, Sam. It’s not that bad,” you stated as you pushed off the rails and skated a few paces away from Sam before making your way back to the woman. “Shut the fuck up,” Sam whispered as her legs started to wobble. Ice skating was something she hated, and she hated you for convincing her to do it.

“Sam, I will hold you up the entire time, I promise,” you declared as you stood in front of her and placed your hands on her hips, “Just do one lap with me and we can call it quits.”

“I fucking hate you, you know that?” Sam whispered but she allowed you to guide her away from the rails. “I know you do,” you replied with a gentle smile as you skated backward while facing Sam. You had never skated backward before, but you would do anything for Sam, and your smile grew even larger when the woman placed her hands on your shoulder and pulled herself closer to you.

The first lap went like a breeze, and Sam was starting to get the hang out of it. She even felt confident enough to have you skate beside her and you two held hands as you went around another lap. You were getting ready to ask Sam to be your girlfriend when she hit a small bump on the ice and started to fall.

“I got you,” you stated as you gripped her forearms and pulled her back to her feet and steadied her. When Sam was finally stable on her feet, she felt her heart burst as she looked at your love struck eyes and hearty smile. “Thank you,” was all she managed to mutter before large shouting echoed throughout the area.

“Ten! Nine! Eight!”

You and Sam looked around and you saw that the ball was about to drop, and you pulled Sam closer to you. Sam smiled as she realized that she might have her first New Year’s kiss with someone she wanted forever and she refused to give that opportunity up.

“Am I allowed to kiss you?” Sam asked as she got closer to you. “You don’t have to ask,” you replied while Sam cupped your cheeks and you gripped her waist and pulled her body against yours.

“Three! Two! One!”

When the crowd reached one and the ball dropped, you sealed the New Year with a kiss from your Sammy. And that kiss contained the promise of years to come.

“Alright now. Break it up you two,” Tara joked as she skated over to you and you placed a quick kiss on Sam’s lips before pulling away. “Is everyone ready to go?” You asked with cheeks that were crimson red as Sam dropped her hands from them and you let go of her waist.

“Yeah, I think so,” Tara responded and you left the area with the group. You and Sam allowed the rest to walk a few paces in front of you, giving you two some privacy to talk. “So,” you said while lacing your fingers with Sam’s and pulling her into your side, “Would you like to officially be my girlfriend?”

Sam squeezed your hand three times and kissed your lips before responding, “I’ll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year’s Day.”

Sam tried to push you out and keep you at arm’s length, but you just found your way back in. There were so many things she wanted to say to you, like that you were the first person to hold her without me, but Sam waited until later that night to show you just how much you meant to her.

[nichuuu]

Je T’aime

(Yeowooya part 2)[ft. Joy]

Tags: Fluff, angst, titfuck, riding, standing doggy, facial Word count: 9k+

You took a sip of water from the cup before you. Just behind the screen of your laptop, you could see Joy biting her lip in concentration. The ample lighting of her apartment saved you from another migraine as you scrolled through the document sent to you, and it also allowed you to watch her adjust the oversized shirt over her petite frame. You’d both woken up after a crazy round of sex, now it was time to work. 

“Would ‘flamboyance’ be the right word to describe this?” Joy inquired. Setting your cup down, you replied. “I think ‘grandeur’ would be a little more suitable…”

She hummed in agreement and typed away. 

“You know, you look pretty cute with those glasses,” she complimented. Your contacts had dried up earlier that day, leaving you with no other option but to put on your spectacles. You always felt rather self-conscious with the round, clunky frames sitting atop your nose. It felt nice to hear a compliment about them. 

“Do you want me to wear them around more often?” You grinned.

“Maybe,” She replied cheekily. You shot her a look.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re really fucking confusing?” You inquired. 

“Maybe…”

You rolled your eyes and took your glasses off. It’d been awhile since you wore them. The weight on your nose bridge was irking you a little. You set it down on Joy’s dining  table, closing your eyes to give yourself a small break. 

“Hm…” You heard Joy hum. You could visualise the pout on her face as she vocalised her moment of thought. 

“Need help?” you offered. 

You heard a faint rustle. Your eyes snapped open. 

Your specs were on Joy’s face. 

“Wow… You’re degree’s pretty low,” she remarked, “Why don’t you just wear these babies around everywhere?”

You stretched out your hand. “Give them back.”

Joy smirked.

“That’s no way to talk to your teammate!” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“Give them back please,” you corrected yourself. Joy tapped a finger on her chin, as if she needed the combined power of her five remaining brain cells to come to a decision. 

“No,” she eventually answered. 

A regular person would be a little ticked off by her behaviour, but you liked her enough to put up with her shit.

You heard Joy slide your spectacles back across the table.

“Don’t be annoyed, Ahjussi,” she teased you.  

Retrieving your specs, you replied. “I’m not annoyed.” 

And you were telling the truth.

You heard Joy let out a soft giggle before she resumed her work. It’d been a few weeks after your getaway with her. When you returned back to the office after your time on the beach, you were delighted to hear that your entire team had been dragged through the mud by just about every executive. They gave you the tongue lashing of your life, screaming all sorts of slurs and expletives. Out of courtesy, you apologised, but you did your best to hide a sly grin as you made eye contact with Joy. 

A few hours after you got back, you were called into your boss's office. When you entered, you found Joy seated opposite your boss. As it would turn out, your boss had been monitoring both your work and Joy’s work—despite the fact that she was under different management—and decided that you were both worthy of a promotion. And so, you and Joy began your new journey in a new department as teammates. Better teammates, better desk space, better pay… 

The first couple of days were fine for the both of you. You both acclimatised quickly to the new nature of your work and quickly learnt the process of the strange new place you had been promoted to. It felt unusual to have teammates that actually did work that they promised to do, and it was definitely out of the ordinary to be treated to coffee by your juniors in the team. It was an odd new experience, but you grew to like it.

With the convenience of being located to the desk next to yours, Joy was more playful than ever. When she was in a good mood, Soo-young would drop by and check up on you, leaving all sorts of snacks. When she felt like crap, Joy would sneak into your space to “consult” you, which was code for asking you to meet her in the bathroom for a quickie. Interactions with her became more frequent, and each exchange you had with her made that funny, fluttering feeling you’d experienced in the Chalet grow.

After about a week of working with her, you figured out that you had a crush on Joy. 

“Help me read this email real quick,” she requested. You slid your spectacles back onto your face.

Joy slid her laptop across the table. You spun the screen around so that you could read.

“I think I did a pretty good job. You can feel my sincerity emanating from it,” she mused. She stood up and walked around the table to settle on the chair next to you. 

“We’ll see…” you muttered, scrolling to the top of the page. Her leg brushed against yours. You felt the hairs on your body stand.

You thoroughly proofread Joy’s long email to one of the clients that she’d been assigned to reach out to. She’d always been a good writer, and you knew because you’d read countless emails for her. There was never much that needed to be amended or added in her emails, maybe a few small grammatical errors or punctuation mistakes here and there. You remember that she’d once wanted to pursue a career in writing while she was in highschool, but her parents shut her down the moment she brought it up. 

“Looks decent,” you remarked, sliding her laptop back to her.

“That’s it? Just ‘decent’?” Joy interrogated. 

Giving her a look, you answered. “What the fuck do you want me to say?”

“A compliment would be nice.”

You rolled your eyes. 

“Fine… Your email’s good,” you obliged. 

“Thank you,” Joy smiled. She seemed satisfied with your new response.

You chuckled to yourself and closed your laptop. 

“I refuse to believe that no one has ever told you how confusing you are,” you told her frankly. With a shrug, Joy replied, “It’s because I don’t hang out with naggy uncles like you.”

“We’re the same age, Soo-young.”

“But that doesn’t make you any less of an uncle…”

You picked up your notebook and lightly smacked her over the head. Joy pouted, a feigned look of pain on her face. 

“Keep up the act and I’ll smack you even harder,” you warned her, shaking the notebook in your hand for extra emphasis.

“Alright…” Joy groaned, “Jeez… Take a joke will you?”

“I can take a jokes. Your jokes are just bad,” you smirked. 

“Take that back,” she ordered. 

With a wink, you shot back, “Make me.” 

Joy took a good look at you. You blinked, and she was on you the next moment. Her hands cupped your cheeks, nails tracing circular patterns on your face. 

“Take it back…” she whispered. 

If this happened before you learnt of your crush on Joy, you would’ve reacted normally—Grab her ass, kiss her, scoop her up and take her to the bedroom… You could probably write a five page essay on the various ways you’d own her. 

But it was different now.

You found your heart palpitating in your chest. Your palms were sweaty, your arms stiff at your sides. All the retorts that you came up with instantly left you. 

There was only one question on your mind.

“What’s wrong… Cat got your tongue?” Joy chuckled.

She was pinching your cheeks now, kneading with the soft flesh on your face like a child with playdoh. 

“Is it my turn to be in control?” she asked, “Oh I have been waiting for—”

“What are we to each other?” you interrupted. 

A look of confoundment crossed her face. 

“H-Huh?” 

Her hands stopped fidgeting and fiddling with your face. She looked you in the eyes. 

“What… What are we, Soo-young?” you asked once more. Joy blinked.

“I… Don’t know…” she admitted, “What do you… Want us to be?” 

You looked away for a moment. Now was the opportune moment to ask her out, yet something was weighing down on your heart. Hesitation seemed to be present in every cell of your body, but you were compelled to speak your mind.

“I… I want to date you Soo-young,” you blurted. 

You hardly used her name yet it seemed to roll off your tongue so easily. Joy seemed at a loss for words. Silently, she slipped off you and sat back down on her chair. You swallowed the saliva that was accumulating in your mouth.

“Look… I-I know this is a little sudden and all…” you began. She raised a hand to cut you off. You zipped up as she spoke.

“We… Can’t date,” she told you, a grim look on her face. Your heart sank to your stomach.

Joy pursed her lips. She rubbed her palms against her thighs, her head turning to look out of her apartment window. 

“I don’t have anything against you,” she clarified, “It’s just… I… I don’t think we should be in a serious relationship.”

You nodded solemnly, understanding where she was coming from. You had a feeling that she wouldn’t feel the same way about you, but her rejection still hurt nonetheless. 

“Oh…” you muttered. “I… I see…”

Joy sighed heavily. 

“Look… I…” she started, “I… I think I’ll need some time to think by myself…” 

You nodded. You wanted to respect her decision, yet the urge to try and talk things out with her threatened to overpower your thoughts. You grabbed your laptop and stood up before you let your emotions get to your head. 

“I’ll leave then,” you announced. 

She looked up at you. Her mouth opened. You hoped that she’d say, “Wait”, tell you to sit down and talk things out with her… 

She closed her mouth and let out a shaky breath. She had no words for you, and you decided that you didn’t have any words for her either. 

You packed your things into your bag. You could feel her watching, silently observing you stuff your things into your bag. You knew that things wouldn’t be the same between the both of you from now on, and it was your fault.  You shouldered your bag and headed over to her door. Your hand hovered over the doorknob for a few seconds, a naive part of you hoping for her to call you back. 

But when you looked back at her, she was staring at the floor. There was an unreadable expression on her face, a mix of emotions you’d never seen before. 

“Joy…”

She turned her head. You gave her a small smile. 

“I hope that… You can think this over,” you told her. 

She fixed you with a look—Unreadable.

“Y-Yea… I-I’ll try to…”

You smiled.

“Cool… See you I guess…”

Your hand gripped the cold doorknob. Everything you hoped to say had been said. You opened the door and left her apartment. 

You did your best to not look back. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A heaviness in your heart plagued you for the rest of the week. A veil had shrouded your brain, your mind hazy and unfocused. Everything seemed to go by in a haze, bits of information entering your mind here and there as you sat at your desk and slogged away. 

All forms of conversation with Joy had ceased. You did your best to avoid her when you could, but there were inevitable moments like the times where you had to ride the same lift or print something at the same time. In those small moments, you’d shoot a small smile that was sometimes unreturned. You tried to talk to her every now and then, but she never seemed to be interested. It didn’t help that her desk was next to yours.

Loneliness had begun to set in by your second week without Joy. You never realised how much time you’d spent with her till she was completely removed from your life. There were times when the two of you were alone, and you had to fight the urge to call her name in those times, every fibre of your body fighting against the thought of just turning to her and asking to talk. It was hard to see her, and it was even harder to watch as she went about her day like you didn’t exist. 

By the first month, you’d accepted the fact that Joy would never rethink her feelings for you. It was foolish for you to ever think that she’d give it a second thought. You weren’t sure why you genuinely thought that there was hope.

By the third month without her, you were slowly getting accustomed to your new way of life. There was still the dull throb of emptiness in your heart, but you learnt to cope with it by drowning yourself in work.

By the fifth month, you thought you were okay. But that was when Joy texted you. 

It was late. Joy had gone home long ago. When you saw her name pop up on your notification centre, your fingers froze on your keyboard. You stared at your phone screen, silently looking at the icon till your screen turned off. It took you a good moment to come back to your senses before you actually opened your chat with her.  

We should talk. 

You found yourself stunned by the three words she’d sent over a minute ago. Memories that you’d taken months to shut out were flooding back. You typed a reply.

Ok. 

The message was instantly seen. The three dots appeared, moving in a wave as she typed something back. 

We need to talk in person. 

Are you free this weekend?

You raised an eyebrow. When you were still in contact with Joy, she’d always told you that weekends were reserved for her to be by herself. She was strict on this rule, but she was making an exception now. You quickly checked your calendar for the weekend. There was nothing.

Yeah. 

The three dots reappeared. 

Ok. 

She sent you an address, and a quick check on your maps revealed a house that you’d never seen before in your life. It was somewhere off in the outskirts of the city, a long 3 hour drive from your place.

Meet me here at 2pm. See you.

You had questions for her, questions that needed answers instantly, but you decided to reserve them for the day itself.

The weekend rolled around quickly. You couldn’t sleep in the days leading up to your meeting… There was too much to think about.

The drive to the place was somewhat pleasant aside from your heart hammering in your ribcage. You ended up reaching 10 minutes earlier than the meeting time. In an act to not look desperate, you waited till the clock struck two before exiting your car. 

You rang the bell at the cargate and waited. Tje cat in the driveway looked like Joy’s, but you weren’t too sure. The gate opened after a few seconds, a rather loud grinding sound filling the air as it slowly rolled open. You entered the property, stepping around the car and heading towards the door. 

The door to the house opened as you approached. A little girl who looked no older than five stood before you, holding the door open with her tiny little body. You stopped in your tracks. 

“Who are you?” the child asked. 

“H-Hi… I-I’m looking for Jo—I mean… Soo-young,” you told her, “A-Am I at the right place?”

The girl stared at you for a bit before turning her head into the house and screaming, “MOM! SOMEONE’S AT THE DOOR!”

You felt yourself blush as you realised that you probably got the wrong address. 

“S-Sorry… I-I think I might’ve…”

You trailed off when Joy appeared behind the girl. You locked eyes with her. 

She smiled softly.

“Hey…” she greeted you, “Long time no see…”

You blinked, standing there like a deer in headlights. The girl looked up at Joy.

“Mom? Why is he staring at you like that?” she inquired. Joy laughed nervously. 

“He hasn’t seen mommy in a long time,” she explained, “Go inside and help mommy get our guest a drink okay?” 

“Okay!” the child beamed. She waddled into the house, leaving you and Joy alone at the front door. She opened the door a little wider and stepped aside. 

“Let’s talk inside,” she told you. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”

“R-Right…” You replied. 

You took off your shoes and entered the strange domain. Old cabinet supporting new flatscreen TV, old book on new coffee table, old clock ticking away next to an even older photo… The place was furnished as if two timelines had collided in the same house. The place clearly wasn’t Joy’s judging by the numerous pieces of furniture that strayed ever so far from her taste. Many things seemed rather out of place, yet there was an oddly homey feel to the house. 

Soo-young led you to the couch and gestured for you to sit. She waited for you to settle down before seating about an arms length away from you. 

“So… How have you been?” she asked first. 

You shifted in your seat and replied, “I’ve been… Alright… How about you?” 

Pinnochio would be jealous of you. 

“I’ve… Been doing a lot of thinking,” she chuckled, “a solid five months of thinking… It’s more tiring than you’d expect…”

The sound of clinking tore your gaze away from Joy. The child came waddling back from the kitchen, carrying a tray that held two glasses filled with golden liquid and topped with a generous amount of ice. She walked past Joy and bee lined it for you. 

“Here you go sir! Apple juice!” she declared. You graciously accepted the beverage, the sickly sweet scent of the nectar wafting into your nose. 

“Thank you,” you smiled. The girl returned a smile before turning to Joy. Joy chuckled and lifted the glass off the tray with elegance. 

“Thank you Yeon-su,” she smiled, ruffling the girl’s hair with her free hand. 

“No problem mommy!” the child grinned, “can we go play when you're done?”

“Sure thing honey. Give mommy and her friend some time okay?” Joy requested.

“Okay! Don’t take too long!” the girl chirped before skipping away. 

Joy turned back to you. 

“She’s so precious isn’t she?” she mused. 

“I… How old is she?” you inquired. 

“Four. Going five in two months,” she answered. 

Four years… She’s had a daughter for four years. 

“Is… She adopted or…” you continued to probe. You knew that you were pushing boundaries here, but Joy didn’t seem to be uncomfortable.

“No… She’s mine,” she replied. You sat there in silence. Joy gave you time to process these new pieces of information in silence as she sipped on her apple juice. 

“So… You’re… Married?” you blurted. Joy laughed. 

“Married? God no!” she spat. 

You stared at the ice in your glass, the slowly melting solids an excellent representation of what your brain felt like. Nothing was making sense. Joy? A mother? You began to wonder how much you actually knew about her. 

“What…” you muttered, “Why… Why didn’t you say anything about this?”

You felt like an asshole for asking such a question. It sounded like it was expected of her to let the whole world know that she had a child. Joy sighed and leaned forward. 

“I… I was just getting to that,” she whispered. 

She swirled her apple juice for a bit. 

“Look,” she started, “I… I’ve been meaning to—”

“MOMMY!” 

Joy’s head instantly snapped towards the direction of her child’s voice. She set down her glass and bolted towards the kitchen. You quickly put down your glass and tailed after her. You followed her into the kitchen and stepped out a glass door into a backyard. 

“What is it, Yeon-su?” Joy inquired, worry in her voice. With a tear stricken face, the little girl pointed to a tree.

“My… M-My football!” she wailed. You looked up and quickly spotted the outline of the black and white ball. It was nestled in between two tree branches, perched like a bird in its nest. Joy drew in a breath. 

“Damn… That’s pretty high up,” she muttered. She looked back down at her child. 

“It’s okay Yeon-su, mommy will get you a new one,” Joy assured her daughter. 

“No! I-I don’t w-want a new one!” the child whined. “I want to keep this ball! No new ball!”

Joy pursed her lips. 

“Sweetie…” she attempted to allay her child. But her daughter was having none of it. 

“I WANT MY BALL BACK! I WANT MY BALL BACK!”

Joy squeezed her eyes shut, her forehead creasing as her brows furrowed. It’d been a while since you’d seen her this stressed. She looked like she was on the verge of letting out a cuss. You examined the tree again. It wasn’t too tall, growing maybe a centimetre or two above the roof of the house. 

Maybe it was your feelings for her, maybe it was your conscience… Something compelled you to act before Joy’s stress levels got out of hand. You walked towards the tree trunk and circled it, looking for a low hanging branch. You found one, muttered a quick prayer, then jumped and wrapped your legs around the bark to start climbing. The coarse bark provided ample grip, allowing you to quickly move up to the lowest branch and get atop of it. You straddled the branch, craning your neck upwards to see how far up the ball was. It wasn’t too far up. 

“H-Hey! W-What are you doing?” Joy asked, “get down! You’ll hurt yourself.”

You ignored her and climbed up to the next branch. You were grateful that its branches weren’t spaced too far from each other. You could use small bursts of energy and rest for a bit on each sturdy branch. 

You did your best not to look down, your hands already shaky and your palms sweaty from just the feeling of being high up. It didn’t take long to reach it, and a simple smack was all that was needed to get it off the tree.

Satisfied, you descended back down from the tree. Getting down was much easier than climbing up, but the fact that you had to look down made it feel harder than it should’ve been.

Even when your feet were on solid ground, your hands continued to tremble. Joy was waiting for you at the base of the tree, a sincere look of worry on her face.

“You okay? You’re really pale,” she checked in. You managed a nod. 

“I’m… Fine,” you assured her shakily.

“You sure?” she confirmed, “You look like you’re gonna shit yourself…”

You nodded once more. Joy’s daughter walked up next to her mother, a bright smile on her face. 

“Thank you mister!” she exclaimed.

You waved it off, beginning taking deep breaths to calm yourself down. Joy’s daughter turned to look at her mother. 

“I like him, Mommy. Can he be my new Daddy?” 

Joy looked like she’d just been shot in the chest. Her daughter looked up at her innocently, examining her mother’s face with an unwavering expression. She caught your gaze, a certain look behind her eyes. 

“I…” she trailed off. There was something going on behind her eyes, something unfamiliar and new. It was that unreadable expression, the same expression she’d fixed you with all those months ago.

Even now, you still couldn’t figure out what it meant.

Joy quickly looked away, blinking rapidly as she turned her daughter around. 

“Let’s go inside Yeon-su…” she instructed. 

“But you didn’t—”

“Let’s go inside,” Joy repeated. Yeon-su seemed to get the message. The fierce tone of her mother didn’t stop the girl from looking back at you as she walked back towards the house. Over her shoulder, the little girl gave you another one of those beaming smiles. 

For a brief moment, you couldn’t tell Yeon-su apart from her mother. 

You followed the mother-daughter duo back into their abode. Joy took her daughter upstairs to settle her down. Joy came back down a few minutes later. 

“I gave her a colouring book… That should occupy her for some time,” she mused, “Sorry for her behaviour just now… I didn’t expect her to—”

“What happened to Yeon-su’s father?” you interjected. Joy licked her lips and stared at her feet for a moment.

“He um… He left.”

You regretted asking. 

“O-Oh…” you muttered, “I-I’m… I’m sorry.”

Joy chuckled, but her laughter couldn’t hide the brief flash of pain that crossed her features.

“I-It’s fine…” she assured you, “the whole reason I asked you here was to show you Yeon-su…”

She raised her head, caught your gaze.

“She’s the reason I can’t date you.”

You felt the air grow heavy. 

“W-What?” you stammered. 

Joy let out a shuddering sigh.

“Look… I just need you to hear me out now,” she requested, “once I’ve said what I need to say… You’re free to go.”

Your silence was consent. Soo-young pursed her lips.

“I… I like you… I really, really like you,” she whispered, “I’ve liked you for a long time, and… I was so happy when you asked me out. It… felt like a dream come true…”

You remained silent to let her speak. She continued.

“I’ve always wanted to be something more with you, to be more than just friends with benefits… But… It can’t be that way, not when I have Yeon-su.” 

A tear rolled down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away, sniffling as she did so. 

“I… I can’t ask you to accept the fact that I have a child. I-I can’t make you just… Bear with the fact that I’m just some whore that got herself pregnant…”

Joy folded her arms over her chest and looked at the ground. There was mucus dripping down her nose that she didn’t bother to wipe. It pained you to see her like this—slowly breaking down in front of you in a moment of vulnerability. Joy had always been playful, naughty and a little cocky around you. You knew her as someone who had the perfect blend of beauty and adorability, someone who always had a smile on her face. Now she was revealing a new side to you, and she had chosen to show this side to you. 

In a way, you felt honoured. 

“And even if you could accept me for who I am and what I’ve done… I can’t ask you to accept that I’ll have to love my daughter over you at times,” she said.

She combed a hand through her hair. The unreadable expression had made its way back into her face. This time, you could see past it.

It was pain. Joy was in pain.

“I’m such an ass aren’t I? I’m making it seem like Yeon-su’s the one standing between you and me…” Joy chuckled bitterly, “That sweet girl did nothing wrong… This whole situation is my fault.”

You stood rooted to the spot, letting the wave of information and emotions wash over you. There were lots of things going through your head and your heart, it felt a little hard to breathe. Joy remained where she was, shoulder shuddering and quaking as she let her hair shroud her face. 

“So… This is why… We can’t date” she strained, “That’s… That’s all I have to say. You… You can go now.”

You watched her wipe her face with the sleeve of her shirt. There was a heaviness in your chest, a stone that weighed down on your heart as you realised that Joy had been battling with these thoughts for months. 

“Soo-young,” you called her softly. She shook her head. 

“N-No… Don’t say anything…” she breathed, “I think it’s best if we leave things here… No hard feelings, no regrets… No secrets left to hide.”

You could feel a tear make its way down your face. You wanted to respect her choice, respect her choice the way you did five months ago… But you couldn’t this time. You knew that if you left your relationship this way, you’d never be able to repair it ever again.

“Go to her…” A small voice in your head urged. 

No regrets.

You slowly walked up to her. With tender care, you drew back the curtains of her hair—pushing the jet black strands out of her face and tucking them behind her ear. 

No regrets.

Her cheeks were wet, eyes puffy and squeezed shut. Gingerly, you reached under her chin and tilted her head up. There was not much to say, but there was much to do. 

No regrets.

You kissed her—a tender, simple yet complicated gesture. 

No regrets.

Joy never made any attempts to shy away. She willingly melted into you, a small whimper escaping her throat. You held her in your arms, feeling each shuddering breath she took send small shockwaves through your chest. You held her in your arms, a buzz filling your head as you let yourself absorb her scent, her taste—the familiar things about her that felt strangely alien in the moment. 

You broke away from her, panting lightly as you watched her slowly open her eyes. You were both crying for your separate reasons, but there was a shared sentiment between the both of you.

We can’t leave each other like this. 

You kissed her again. This time, her arms wrapped themselves around your neck, pulling you in and inviting you to combine with her. There was a longing, a craving that had to be fulfilled. It wasn’t the usual animalistic desire you felt for her. Rather, it was a lust for her love, a want for her close proximity. You wanted her in your life. You wanted to wake up beside her, brush her hair out of her face and kiss her good morning. You wanted to hold her hand as you walked with her in the park. 

You wanted Park Soo-young. 

But could you really look past the fact that she had a child? Could you really see love for who she was? Could you accept that her ex could possibly swoop in and complicate your life?

Well… You wouldn’t know if you didn’t try.

You let your lips leave hers, a brief moment of silence filling the spaces between your laboured breathings. 

“Soo-young…” You whispered, her name rolling off your tongue like it did five months ago. 

“Y-Yea?” she answered, entertaining you. 

Your hands slipped down to her lower back. 

“What if I can accept that you got yourself pregnant by mistake? What if I can accept that you have to love your daughter over me? What happens then?” you asked. Joy sniffled. 

“It’s… It’s not that simple,” she told you.

“It can’t be that complicated can it?” you challenged.

She gazed into your eyes.

“Be honest with me…” she requested, “could you really do that?”

You felt a small smile lightly tug up the corners of your lips.

“Why not?” you challenged, “do you really look down on me that much?”

She giggled, tingling a part of your brain that seemed to remember her laugh so fondly. 

“Well…” she whispered, “I… I guess there’s no harm in… Taking a chance.”

With a bold hope in your heart, you breathed, “Then take a chance on me Soo-young…”

Joy closed her eyes and let out a breath. 

“Just… Promise me that you’ll take care of me,” she pleaded. You nodded. 

“I’ll take care of both you and Yeon-su,” you assured her.

“That’s too much to ask of you,” she reasoned. 

“It’s not,” you whispered, “It won’t be too much for me if we do it together.”

Joy gazed into your eyes, searching your soul.

“Look at you…Going full Prince Charming to woo me,” she teased you.

With equal playfulness, you replied, “But you like the attention don’t you?”

“Maybe…” she smirked.

You both fell silent for a minute. After a while, Joy finally nodded. 

“I trust you to keep your word…” she smiled, “let’s date.”

Your cheeks had never stretched like this in your life.

“Let’s date,” you echoed. Joy reached up and cradled your face in her hands. She pulled you towards her, pressing her lips against yours, and you kissed her back with the biggest smile. 

“Ew…”

Joy quickly broke the kiss. She looked past your shoulder.

“Y-Yeon-su! W-What… What are you doing there!” she squeaked.

You turned and saw Joy’s daughter sitting on the steps, watching intently. 

“I thought you said that you were only friends Mommy?” the little girl questioned. Joy pulled away from you. 

“O-Oh… I-I um…” she stammered. 

As if urged by some comedic timing, the front door swung open. A middle aged woman waddled in, arms ladened with grocery bags.

“Aish… I can’t believe that they were all out of eggs!” the lady grunted as a middle-aged man followed in behind her. 

“You know how supermarkets are honey…” the man sighed, slipping on a pair of sandals.

“Why is it so cold there anyway? It’s like winter—”

The lady stopped when she caught sight of you. Her gaze transferred between you and Joy. 

“Soo-young?” she called, pointing a bony finger at you, “who is that?”

Joy cleared her throat. 

“O-Oh, this is um…” she struggled to answer, “this is… My friend…”

“THEY WERE KISSING GRANDMA! DON’T BELIEVE HER!” Yeon-su unhelpfully inputted. 

“Park Yeon-su!” Joy chided. 

“What? I’m telling the truth! You always told me to tell the truth Mommy,” the daughter rebutted. She clearly took after her mother. 

“Tsk… I… We…” Joy stuttered helplessly. The woman waved it off.

“Aish, we’ll talk about it some other time,” she grumbled. She pointed at you once more and said,  “You. Can you cook?”

“A-A little,” you answered honestly. 

“Good. We need as much help as we can get,” she mused, “date my daughter for all I care. Just don’t abandon her and Yeon-su like that last one.”

She walked past you with her grocery bags in hand. Just like Yeon-su, Joy obviously got her temper from her mother.

“Get in the kitchen! We have to start preparing for the party!” the lady barked. The man sighed. 

“Pardon my wife’s behaviour… She’s always grumpy before these types of things,” he apologised. He walked over and freed up a hand to give you a handshake.

“Welcome to our home. I take it that you’re Soo-young’s new boyfriend?” he asked, gripping your right hand in a firm yet friendly grip.

“U-Um… Y-Yes,” you managed to sputter. He nodded slowly, scanning you from head to toe. 

“I’m her father. Nice to meet you,” he grinned. He had a booming voice, a voice that could make you shit yourself if you heard it in an alley.

“You should come over again next week… I’d like to get to know you better.”

He released your hand and gave you a pat on the shoulder. Joy’s father disappeared into the kitchen, leaving you stunned in your place. 

“They’re pretty chill, don’t worry,” Joy assured you, “we’ll worry about impressions later… Let's go and help prepare the food before Mom decides to behead all of us.”

Joy quickly jogged off to join her parents in the kitchen. As you moved to follow her, you felt a small tug on your pant leg. You looked down. Yeon-su gazed up at you.

“So… Are you my new Daddy?” Joy’s daughter inquired. You smiled warmly and crouched down so you were at eye level with her. 

“I don’t know… Do you want me to be?” you offered. The girl pouted as she thought for a moment. 

“I… I think that would be nice,” she told you, “Please take care of us.”

It felt like a shot of sunshine had been injected straight into your heart. You chuckled nervously.

“I’ll… I’ll do my best Yeon-su…” you told her. The little girl raised her closed fist and stuck out her pinky. 

“Pinky promise?” she probed. You stuck out your own pinky and hooked it with hers.

“Pinky promise,” you echoed, “shall we go help your Mommy prepare?”

Joy’s daughter nodded enthusiastically.

“Let’s go Daddy!” she squealed before running off to join the rest in the kitchen. You stared at the entrance to the kitchen, thinking about what you’d thrown yourself into in the name of love. You were gonna have to get used to it if you wanted to keep your word to both Joy and Yeon-su. 

Joy stuck her head out the door. 

“Hey. You coming?” she asked. You nodded and rose to your feet. 

With newfound energy, you joined your girlfriend in the kitchen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

As it would turn out, the food that you’d painstakingly prepared was not meant for you. 

“Every other week or so, my parents organise a neighbour gathering at our place,” Joy explained as she loaded a duffle bag full containing a few sets of Yeon-su’s clothes. She shut the trunk and scooped her daughter up into her arms. 

Joy had an arrangement with her parents. On the weekdays when she was working, Yeon-su would stay with Joy’s parents and attend school in the nearby kindergarten. On weekends, Soo-young would stay over at her parents place and spend time with Yeon-su. However, today called for special arrangements.

“Are we going into the city again Mommy?” Yeon-su asked, eyes pooling with hope. 

“Only if you want to,” Joy replied.

“Yay!” squealed the little girl in her arms. Joy smiled and opened the door to the backseat. She gently deposited her child into her vehicle and shut the door. 

“Everytime they have a gathering, I take Yeon-su into the city and we stay at my place,” Joy told you.

“So that’s why you have that guest room,” you mused. She smiled and fished out her car keys. 

“Excellent link Sherlock. Catch.”

She tossed her keys to you and rounded the vehicle to the passengers side. You chuckled and got into the driver’s seat. 

The drive into the city didn’t feel as long as it was. Once in town, you settled on a ramen place and had one of the best dinners of your life with Joy and Yeon-su. Of course, an excellent dinner called for an equally satisfying dessert. Yeon-su practically dragged you over to a Gelato shop that she’d spotted along the way and attempted to order a double scoop of sea salt caramel for herself. Unfortunately for Yeon-su, her mother stepped in and stopped the order from going through. 

In many ways, Yeon-su was a mini replica of her mother. They shared the same feistiness, had the same mischievous glint behind their eyes. Of course, good traits like respect had been passed down as well. Joy’s daughter dished out thanks and greetings to waiters like Oprah Whinfrey, earning her multiple smiles as your servers swooned over her. 

“I think she’ll grow to be a fine woman,” you mused, watching as Yeon-su deftly scaled up a playground ladder. Joy's head rested on your shoulder as she idly sipped her yoghurt drink. 

“You think so?” Joy inquired. You nodded. 

“Yea… You raised her didn’t you?” you asked. Joy chuckled.

“It takes a village to raise that girl…” Joy muttered, “I’m just glad that my parents are here for me and her… I don’t want to imagine what life would be like if I hadn’t gone back to Mom and Dad.”

You found her hand and laced your fingers with hers. You felt her smile on your shoulder.

She gave your hand a squeeze. 

“This is nice…” she whispered.

“Yea… It really is,” you chuckled. You were getting Deja vu from your time with her on the beach. 

“You know… Even though Yeon-su was an accident, I never regretted keeping her,” Joy confessed, “She’s… She’s the second best mistake I’ve ever made.”

You raised an eyebrow. 

“Second best?” you mused, “What’s your best mistake then?”

“Do you really have to know?” she teased.

“I’d like to,” you answered. Joy giggled.

“Well since you insist,” she smiled, “I think… My best mistake was arriving late for that board meeting and sitting next to you.”

You could feel yourself blushing. 

“Aw shucks…” you muttered, “Hold up… Which part about that was the mistake?”

Soo-young shrugged and replied, “I guess we’ll never know…”

You clicked your tongue in annoyance. 

“Sly fox…” you muttered. Joy chuckled, clearly proud of herself.

Yeon-su eventually tired herself out. With leadened feet, she trudged back over to the bench and asked to be carried. You gladly scooped her up into your arms, and the precious girl fell asleep on the way back to the car. 

You found yourself back in the same apartment where you’d been rejected five months ago. You didn’t let the bad memory get to your head as you carried Joy’s daughter into the apartment. She was sleeping like a brick, snoring lightly as you laid her down on the bed of Joy’s extra bedroom. You slipped off her shoes, brushed some hair out of her face and tucked her in for the night. Joy watched you from the door, a fond smile on her face as she observed you. 

“Something funny?” you asked once you caught her looking. Joy unfolded her arms and pushed off the doorframe.

“Nope,” she answered, “let’s go. Let her sleep.”

You switched off the light and walked out the room, shutting the door behind you as you left. Joy had brought out her wine glasses and her favourite bottle of white wine that she usually kept for celebrations. She sat on her couch, silently swirling her glass in her hand as you approached. Under the ample lighting of her apartment, you realised how tired she looked. Faint, dark rings circled the base of her eyes, her expression one of weariness. 

“You okay?” you checked in, settling down and pouring yourself a glass of wine. 

“Yea…” she replied, “Just a little tired.”

You sipped your beverage and leaned back on her couch.

“Wanna call it a day after this?” you offered. She shook her head. 

“Nah…” she grunted, “I still wanna talk with you.”

Soo-young sat up in her seat and reseted her face on her palm. 

“I missed you,” she whispered. 

“Me too,” you vocalised.

She uncrossed her legs. Her elbows rested on her thighs.

“It’s kinda funny isn’t it?” she asked you. 

“What is?”

She sipped out of her glass and said, “We’ve come full circle. This apartment… We started here didn’t we?”

You chuckled softly. 

“Shit…” you remarked, a soft smile on your face.

Joy set her glass down on the table. With a sigh, she laid down, her head resting on your lap. 

“Here… I first let my feelings for you manifest into actions right here,” she breathed, “I never thought that I’d be back here with you as my boyfriend… This is so crazy.”

Her statement made you think about one of the many questions you had for her. You stopped fiddling with your glass and set it down. You let your hands fiddle with Soo-young’s hair instead. 

“Why didn’t you tell me the real reason when I asked you out here?” you quarried. Joy closed her eyes and sighed.

“I… Don’t know,” she told you, “I… I guess I was just scared.”

“Scared of what?” you probed. 

“I… I was scared that I’d lose you…”

Your hands stopped. 

“Joy…” you began.

“I-I know… It’s cheesy, it’s stupid…” she laughed bitterly, “I know I should’ve just came clean to you there and then, but I was scared that you’d freak out and leave me all alone…”

Joy clasped her hands together. 

“I… I guess I was just afraid that you’d do what Yeon-su’s father did to me…” 

You exhaled, a dull throb in your chest. Even though you knew where Joy was coming from, you still felt a little betrayed. It hurt to know that she thought you’d ditch her like that… But then again, you figured that you’d probably think in a similar way if you went through the things she did. 

You cupped Joy’s cheek, your thumb tracing the firm bridge of her nose. 

“It’s alright Soo-young,” you assured her, “let’s stop talking about the past. We should focus on our future together.”

She opened her eyes and gazed up at you. 

“Future?” she echoed airily. You nodded and replied, “Yea… Me, you and Yeon-su…”

She rose from your lap and sat up straight. 

“Are you… Really okay with being Yeon-su’s father?” 

You raised your eyebrows and leaned back into the couch. You had no idea how to raise a kid, let alone care for a child that isn’t your own. But for some reason, you seemed to have a connection with Yeon-su that enabled you to see her as your own. It was inexplicable, but it was there.

“It’ll take some time to adjust, but I think I can do it,” you declared. Joy laid back down on your lap and smiled.

“I think you’ll be a great Dad,” she told you.

“You think so?” you asked. She nodded.

“I trust that you’ll do your best to take care of her…”

She reached for your hand. You gladly gave it to her. With a tender smile, she held your hand above your face, fidgeting and fiddling with your fingers. You let her do as she pleased. 

She let the moment last for a little longer before guiding your hand to her breasts. She laid your palm atop the right side of her chest. You could feel something poking your palm.

“No bra?” you mused. She bit her bottom lip.

“I was hoping to get lucky tonight,” she whispered.

It all happened in a matter of seconds. Clothes were off, tongues were in mouths. Hands searched each other's bodies, grasping, groping—going about the process like you always did. It felt so familiar yet so fresh. 

“You sure Yeon-su won’t wake up?” you asked, brushing back the hair that fell in front of Joy’s face as she bobbed up and down between your legs. She let your cock pop out of her mouth, her hand delivering lazy but considerate strokes to your slick shaft. 

“She’s a heavy sleeper,” she assured you, “don’t you think you should’ve worried about this before I started sucking you off?”

“Probably,” you mused, “But then again, there’s always—”

A sharp gasp cut through your sentence as Joy shoved your cock between her ample breasts. The warmth of her mounds surrounded your shaft, hugging your cock perfectly as she began to move up and down, slowly grinding her chest against your slick, hard meat. Your shaft slid in and out between her breasts, her saliva providing an ample amount of lubrication. The size of her mounds was enough to wrap around your member. It wasn’t enough to make it fully disappear between her cleavage, but enough to bring you divine pleasure.

You were breathless, shocked by the pleasure Joy was giving you. She stuck out her tongue, making contact with your head and sending shocks of pleasure shooting up and down your spine. This was the first time she’d done anything like this. The unfamiliarity, the new sensations you experienced… Everything about it made your toes curl into the floor. 

“F-Fuck… Joy…” you groaned. 

“You like this don’t you?” she hissed, “you love watching me milk your cock with my tits don’t you?”

You nodded furiously. Joy smirked, hands squeezing her tits together even more.

For long, pleasureable minutes, Soo-young continued to push your rock hard cock in and out between her warm, slick tits. Her hands squeezed her tender flesh around your cock, fingers interlocking in front of your cock to keep you from slipping out of the lovely embrace of her cute, perfect tits. You watched Joy work, those doe-like eyes on that cheeky face, so warped with lust and need. It was hard to imagine that you were sharing a wholesome moment with her just minutes ago.

“Fuck… you’re gonna make me cum Joy.”

Joy started to speed up.

“Then fucking cum,” she replied. She squeezed her breasts even tighter around you, spearing your harder and faster between her tits. She pumped her chest up and down faster, ground her chest against you harder, bottomed out as low as she could. You could feel your orgasm surging up your shaft, rapidly making its way from the base of your cock and seizing control over your senses.

“Soo-young…” you strain. 

“Give me all your cum baby. Fucking paint me…”

Then it hits like the full force of a Tsunami. You felt every single burst of hot semen that shot out from your shaft. The first rope spilled out past Joy’s breasts sending hot, warm cum up her collarbone and onto her jaw. She leaned her face back, letting the rest of your semen cum paint her upper body. Rope after rope covers her chest, some high flying shots hitting her face as she relentlessly continues to take you between her tits. 

It's only when your hand roughly grips her scalp that she slows to a stop. As you laid there panting, she took the time to clean your seed off her body. Cum gathered in her hands, disappearing into her mouth as she cleans herself thoroughly. 

“I missed making you explode like this,” she giggled, rising up to her feet. 

“Could… Tell…” you managed to retort through your laboured breaths. 

She straddled you atop the couch. Her hands cupped either side of your cheek, pulling you into a deep, burning kiss that seemed to still your pounding heart. 

“Let me know when you’re ready,” she rasped, moving down to give your neck some attention. You responded by grabbing a handful of her ass, gently kneading and squeezing the juicy flesh, relishing the feel of it spilling out past your fingers.

Her hand finds your shaft. Your hands hold her waist. 

“I’ve been thinking about you so much,” she told you, “I know I said this before but… I missed you.”

You let your hands roam her curvy body, making sure to linger in all her sensitive spots. 

“I’ve missed you too Soo-young,” you answered truthfully, “It’s been difficult…”

She raises her head, her eyes meeting yours. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I… I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You cupped her cheek, your thumb gently rubbing some saliva off her face.

“I know Soo-young… You’d never hurt me…”

She remained silent and lined your tip with her slit. She looked at you for permission, and you gave her a nod. She sank down onto you, your head splaying her slick, flushed lips as she impaled herself on your cock. A long, drawn out sigh leaves her mouth while she fills herself with your cock. You hold her steady, supporting her slim figure as her ass touches the base of your crotch.

Joy leaned forward. You met her with a kiss. Your hands played with her nipples, pinching and twisting to your heart's content as you made her moan into your mouth. She started to grind against you, letting her walls stretch out around your throbbing cock while her breath mixed with yours. 

She’d ridden you multiple times. In the office, in a chair, on the beach… But this was different now. This was more than just a search for pleasure, a carnal flurry of thrusts and cusses… 

There was no other way to describe it. It was love.

Joy raised her hips, drawing your shaft out of her body before coming down once more. She established a tender, slow rhythm as she rode you, grinding her warm, tight body against yours while her sighs filled your ear. You leaned against the backrest of the couch, drinking in the sight of Soo-young taking you in and out of her body. She rode you slowly, enjoying every entry and exit of your shaft, relishing the feel of your cock filling her to the brim.

Her slim, tight body rolled. Her perfect, alluring breasts bounced. The muscles of her thighs and hips contracted and relaxed on either side of you. Her hot body grinded against you, your shaft spearing her tight folds as she fucked herself on your cock. A long string of gasps and moans streamed from her mouth, punctuating every squelch of her dripping pussy and emphasising each thrust you made into her body.

“Fuck,” she manages to say, “I’ve missed you. I’ve missed your cock...”

She started to ride you harder, faster—but only a little. You began to feel her pussy tightening around you, the telltale sign of her orgasm building inside her, leaking from her core to every part of her tight body. You brought your mouth hand to her left tit, sucking, licking, assaulting her flesh with your mouth. You drove upward slightly with your own hips, crashing your bodies together just a little harder, a little faster…

Joy’s hair flew behind her head as her head whipped back. 

“Oh fuck!” she cursed, sweat splattering the couch as you slowly brought her to new levels of pleasure. You could feel her racing heartbeat in her pussy, throbbing and pulsing around your cock as she continued her gradual acceleration. She doesn’t stop, her moans and gasps rising in volume in a gentle gradient. Her juices leaked down your shaft, fluids being swirled around the inside of her body as your shaft drives her closer and closer to the edge.

For the first time, Joy orgasmed silently. Her body tensed, her arms locking around your neck as her mouth freezes in the shape of an “O”. Her throat muscles seize, her walls squeezing and pulsating around you as you flushed her against you. It took a long minute for her to come down from her high, but you would gladly hold her tight, bare body for as long as she required. 

Her sweat stickied skin peels off yours. She found your lips once more, digging her tongue into the depths of your mouth. You let her regain her breath, gently caressing the curves of her delicious body as she rested atop of you. 

“Alright…” she finally whispered, “Where do you want to fill me?”

You instantly looked over at the window on your left. Joy followed your gaze, a gleam in her eyes.

“Full circle…” she mused, sliding off your shaft and walking over to the window. Her chest pressed against the glass, her ass sticking out, inviting you to enter her once more. You walks up behind her, slapping your still hard shaft against her ass cheeks. 

“Fuck me,” she hissed.

And you do just that. 

You pumped softly, slowly, enjoying every sensation that you experienced. Joy let her pleasure be known to you, a steady stream of airy sighs leaving her throat as you fucked her. Her palms pressed against the glass, leaving imprints like the rest of her naked body. Her fingers curled into the pane, releasing the pleasure that you gave her. The glass fogged with each breath she took, her sweet voice slightly muffled by the glass.

“Just like that… Fuck me… Fuck me honey.”

“I’m close” you grunted. Joy hummed, thrusting back onto your cock.

“Do it,” she whispered, her eyes cast over her shoulder as she held your gaze, “cum in me. Fill me. I’m… I’m yours…”

Your second orgasm for the night arrived. With one last thrust, you groaned and sent stream after stream of hot semen spurting into Joy’s willing depths. Soo-young let out a soft gasp as you empted yourself inside her, the heat of your seed flooding her freshly fucked pussy. Her body relaxes, slumping against the glass as you paint her insides white. 

It took time to recover. When both of you did, Joy met you with a glowing smile.

“I love you,” she whispered. Your cock slipped out of her pussy, warm cum slowly leaking out of her slit. 

“I love you too Soo-young…” you sighed. She tilted your head towards her, engaging you in the nth kiss for the night. 

Clothes were gathered and tossed into Joy’s room—There was a child in the house after all... Beneath the sheets, Soo-young cuddled up next to you and rested her head on your chest. 

“Good night,” she wished you, “wake me up when you want to tommorow…”

“Alright,” you answered, “sweet dreams Soo-young…”

Your hand rested on her head, gently combing through her sweat matted hair. You felt her smile against you. 

Things weren’t going to be the same for the both of you. From tomorrow onwards, you’d officially enter the day with Joy as your girlfriend. While the prospect was exciting, it admittedly scared you to no end. This was more than just a relationship between two people… There was a kid as well. You had to take care of both of them, and it wasn’t going to be easy.  But you knew that things would all be okay. You weren’t sure what made you feel oddly calm about your new predicament, but you weren’t stressing over it. 

With Soo-young by your side, you had a feeling that everything would be alright in the end. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Whats goodie my gang. I decided to try something new with this fic, hope you guys like it :)). Thank you for stopping by and I will see you soon.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: It's Rebecca Black day

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

As expected, your mother is waiting anxiously for your return. It’s not often you’re at the mercy of her disapproval but she has some choice words for both you and Roxie.

Why didn’t you call? You forgot to, everything was so chaotic. Why would you make me worry like that? You know how I am, it isn’t fair to not answer your phone. I was about to call the police. You’ve heard the same aimed at your sister dozens of times but it’s much different to be at the end of it. 

Once she’s done and you feel thoroughly guilty, you retreat to your room. That’s all you wanted. For the last day, all you wanted was to hide away. Yet, now that you’re safely behind familiar walls, you still feel unsettled. 

That’s enough excitement for a lifetime. How does Roxie think that is fun? It’s terrifying. 

You take out your laptop, your most prized possession, and sink back into your virtual cave. It’s safe there. The things you see on the internet are distant and often times fake. Fanfiction and streams and discussion boards. It’s all so menial and unimportant. It’s not finding a job and dragging your butt to work five days a week or disappointing your mother. 

Mm, well, you should check the job boards again. Something’s going to come up eventually. That’s what everyone says and those people have jobs. Even Roxie works, even if it is at a night club. It’s work and she brings home some impressive tips. When your mom asked her to get you a gig, she just laughed. 

You interviewed at Taco Bell a few weeks ago but you haven’t got a call. That’s probably not going to work out. Move on, try again and again and again. 

The computer doesn’t keep your focus as usual. Maybe it’s that you’re overtired or that your mom was so upset or everything that happened last night, but you just can’t rein it in. You close your laptop and lay flat on your bed. You close your eyes, exhaustion hot on your eyelids, but you can’t sleep. You’re no good at napping. What are you good at? 

You sigh and kick your feet. What are you going to do? You can’t spend another summer like this. You’re not like everyone else. You didn’t get into your school and you didn’t get some lofty job from your uncle’s company. As much as you can blame it on other’s luck, you have to acknowledge you’re own shortcoming. You procrastinate, you get nervous, and sometimes, you just avoid things altogether. 

You get up and grab your purse. The strap catches on your sweater and knocks it onto the floor. You search for your phone and pull it out. You bend to retrieve your cardigan and toss it with your purse back onto the dress. You look down as something flutters onto the carpet. 

You didn’t forget about the little note. It’s the weight that been on your shoulders. You take your phone and the paper and sit on the side of the bed. You can rip it up, crumple it and toss it in the bin, pretend nothing ever happened. You should. Just forget about the worst night of your life. 

You can’t. It’s not about your sister’s drunken display or your embarrassment. It’s about a job.  

You hang your head as your nose tingles. Your mom works her butt off and she’s so giving. You want to return the favour. Even if it’s small. Even if it’s just you paying for some of the groceries or a bill or giving her a few bucks. If you don’t try this time, you won’t be able to forget. You’ll always know that you are the reason you came up short. 

You unlock your phone and key in the number. You drop it and let the paper fall too as you stand. You pace around in circles until you’re dizzy. You hate making phone calls. The sound of your own voice is grating. Ugh.  

No, you have to do it. You can do this. It’s one phone call. What if that’s the job? What if you’re answering a phone? Get over yourself. Grow up! 

You pick up your phone and hit call. Your chest locks up. You can’t breathe. Oh god. If you can’t breathe you can’t speak. You hang up and squeak. Frig. No, don’t give up. 

You try again. This time, you force out an exhale and shakily hold the phone to your ear. There’s an answer after two rings. 

“Barnes,” a voice declares from the other end. 

“Erm, oh, Bucky? It’s... me,” you stutter out, giving your name as you realise he won’t recognise your voice. 

“Ah, hi, doll, give me a moment, one sec,” he says and you hear a scuffing on the other end and a muffled ‘excuse me’. His movement rustles and he clears his throat directly into the speaker, “there we are, doll, all yours. How are you?” 

“Uh, alright, I’m fine, er, oh... you?” You close your eyes, Just melt into a puddle and absorb into the carpet.  

“Doing great now, hearing from you,” he purrs, “I’m very happy you called.” 

“Mhm, well...” you put your hand to your neck. Your skin is burning. “I... was calling about the job. In the note.” 

“Of course, doll, so you’re interested?” 

Desperate, but you won’t tell him that. “Yes, please, I mean--” you cringe. You’re not ordering ice cream, “would... what would be... would there be an interview?” 

“Sure, doll,” he says. His tone is light and airy. Is he making fun of you or are you just self-conscious? Both, probably. “How about you come by the casino tomorrow at noon? Does that work for you?” 

“Yeah, uh, whenever,” you agree, “I can get a ride.” 

“Sounds like a plan. Can’t wait,” he coos. 

“Right, uh, okay, yeah, I’ll see you,” you babble dumbly. 

“Mm, yeah, see ya then, doll,” he intones. 

“Yep, er, bye.” 

“Bye--” 

You hang up in a half-panic. You did it. You made the call and you got an interview. You think. The conversation wasn’t what you expected but you think it went well.  

You blow out through your lips and grip your phone tight. Your heart hammers again. You march to the door and stop just before you can grip the knob. You’re excited but scared to tell your mom. 

You swing the door open and clammer through. You hear her in the kitchen doing dishes. It’s Roxie turn so of course your sister is sitting on the couch nursing another coffee. 

“Mom,” you slow and tap your phone against your leg as you stop by the counter, “I... I got an interview.” 

“An interview?” Her surprise is genuine, both in her expression and her voice as she looks at you. Her face blooms in a smile. “That’s wonderful. When?” 

“Tomorrow,” you utter. 

“Tomorrow?” She echoes. 

“At noon.” 

“Noon, okay, I can come home from work and drive you, but you’ll have to get a cab home. I should have enough for the fare.” 

“Ah, yeah, okay,” you clutch your phone in front of you and sway, “thanks.” 

“No problem,” she chimes, “where is it?” 

“What?” 

“The interview.” 

“Oh, at the casino.” 

“The casino?” She turns back to the sink and stares into the water as she scrubs, “hm, interesting. What will you be doing?” 

“Hm, I... don’t know yet. Maybe a cleaner.” 

“Oh, that’s not bad at all,” she says, “think I have a shirt you can wear. Maybe I could hem a pair of my pants for you tonight.” 

“Mom, you don’t have to--” 

“You should look nice,” she undercuts, “it’s not a big deal. Besides, it would be really good if you got a job.” 

You nod. You can hear the thinness in her voice. She tries to hide it but you know it’s not easy around here. You saw the red notice in the mail box and heard her on the phone with the landlord. The bough is close to breaking. 

“Thanks, I’ll... I’ll do my best.” 

“I know you will,” she trills. 

You smile and go back to your room. You shut the door and shudder. Great, now you’ve hurdled over the phone call, you can dread what comes next. Not just venturing out into the general public but going to an interview. It’s one thing after another. It feels like a lot after so long of nothing. 

🃏

Your mom lets you out in Lot 4. It’s far from the main entrance but she’s in a hurry to get back to work. You won’t keep her. You can walk a bit. 

The sun has you sweating along with the polyester trousers. The belt is pinned and the legs have been hastily hemmed. The blouse doesn’t breathe either but you managed to iron the wrinkle out of the sleeve. 

You come to the front doors and steel yourself. Your mascara sticks as you feel the perspiration around your eyes. Oof. You did your best to follow the tutorial with your sister's borrowed makeup but you skipped the eye liner; it only ever turns out smudgy. 

You enter and the air conditioning cools the heat in your cheeks and chest. The woman behind the counter greets you with a smile and a ‘how are you’ before asking if you’re checking in. You’re almost speechless at the sight of her. She’s so pretty and she can do the contour the way those girls on Youtube do. You wouldn’t be good for that job; not gorgeous like her. 

“Um, yeah, actually, I’m here for an interview,” you say. 

“An interview?” She tilts her head, “I didn’t see anything...” she clicks around with the slim mouse on the desk, “who were you interviewing with?” 

“Bucky, uh, Mr. Barnes,” you say. “Well, I spoke with him. Maybe I’m supposed to talk to someone else?” 

She says your name and glances from the screen to you. You nod, “yeah?” 

“Right, okay, I see,” she keeps her shining smile, “Mr. Barnes has a car waiting for you.” 

“A car?” Your brows pop up. “Alright.” 

“If you just want to head back out, it should be waiting there. You’ll see Merv, he has white hair.” 

“Okay, thanks,” you reply then gulp as you turn around. 

You turn slowly and go back to the doors. What is going on? He said to meet him here but he isn’t here? He would be a busy man. You just hope you don’t blow it. 

You pull the doors open and come down the shallow steps. A man with white hair stands by a dark car. One more mountain to climb. 

“Uh, hello, are you... Merv?” 

“That’s me, miss,” he stands straight, “you must be the lady.” 

“I... guess.” 

“Come on then,” he turns and opens the door, “Mr. Barnes doesn’t like to wait.” 

“Okay, sorry,” you step off the curb and climb into the car.  

The door shuts and you buckle up. At least the interior is cool. You snap the belt into place as Merv gets in the front. He rests a hand on the wheel and points with the other. 

“You want this up or down?” He points to the barrier between the front and back. 

“Oh, I don’t... whatever you like,” you shrug. 

He chuckles, “miss, you’re a lot sweeter than the other ones.” 

Other ones? Of course there would be other candidates. You wonder if this is a test. If maybe Merv is going to tell Bucky that you’re too quiet. 

“Do you like Springsteen?” He asks as he slowly pulls out. 

“Don’t mind him,” you answer. Honestly, you don’t really know any of his music.  

Merv flips on the stereo, “I like you even more.” 

[moonlightshaiku]

Oops!

Spock x Reader

Word Count:

Warnings: second hand embarrassment, puke

Ao3: N/A

Notes:

I just like the idea of accidentally giving spock a vulcan kiss, okay????

Tag List:

You knew that Mccoy's response of "Well be more social, then," was a result of him being busy. Not paying attention. But, you'd taken it to heart.

Being alone in your room so often had tanked your mental health. Introverted or not, part of "self care" is letting out your thoughts and feelings.

You can't help but think that self care is too complicated. Hygiene in itself is a fifty point list.

The best plan you had was to introduce yourself to someone. That in itself is difficult. There are too many options and techniques.

It was hard when it was just humans—or at least, mainly humans—back on Earth. But in the Enterprise? With even more races and cultures? Squeezed in? Together?

You enter the lift, blandly speaking out your destination. It's only when you notice the shoes next to you, shining, that you realize you have a chance to just— do this. Get it over with.

The anxiety swells in your throat, and you can't help but think it's not worth it. It'll take so much effort, and if you don't say anything, they'll never know.

"Good morning!" You chirp, before you can put to much thought in. It's much more gruff than you meant. You realize, as you swallow, that this is the first time you've spoken today.

You almost wonder if they're going to reply, but then you see a hand.

It barely takes a second to connect the dots. A handshake! Easy.

In your excitement at the ease of this venture, you bring your right hand to meet their left—and—oh.

Wrong hand. Your hands are touching. Theirs is straight, yours across it. Your ring and little finger are touching the side of their hand, your thumb tucked over their's.

You glance up at them, you don't make eye contact.

Your first two fingers presses against their last.

His last. His last two fingers.

He's male.

"Oh sorry, wrong hand!"

A Vulcan male.

He's Spock.

"Oh shit."

You jerk your hand back.

"The crude wording is not needed, Lieutenant-Commander."

"Spocckkk." You draw out through your teeth, voice high pitched.

"Yes?"

The doors open, no one is there.

"I am. Fuck, I am sorry. It wasn't— fuck, sorry."

The door closes. The lift remains still.

"I didn't mean to—" you take a breath. "It wasn't my intention to—" you pause.

His eyebrows raise, your heart beats faster.

Can he report you for harassment over this? It was just a handshake— be pretty fucked up if he could.

It would be pretty fucked up if he couldn't, too. Damn.

He probably should report you.

He won't.

"Kiss you?"

The words feel like bile in your mouth.

Or are you about to puke?

"That's not a question. I did not mean to phrase that as a question." You attempt to repair quickly. "I did not want to kiss you."

Oh that sounds plan rude!

"Or, er— you know what I mean."

You blink at him. How long have you been talking?

"Are you done, Lieutenant-Commander?"

You stay quiet, and after a few moments, you realize that it's a genuine question.

"You can— you can call me Doctor. And yes. Sorry."

He nods. "Doctor. It was a mistake. It is of no consequence, and does not alter my opinion of you."

You nod, anxiety not fading. You do, however, remember to breathe.

"Can I make it up to you?" Is your timid reply. You find that Spocks eyebrows can reach impressive heights.

"I suppose so. However, I do not see a reason that 'making it up to me' is needed."

You let out a breathy chuckle after a long moment of silence, and it does good to ease the tightness in your chest.

"Okay." You breathe. "When... do you have time?"

Spock doesn't take any time to think. "Tonight would be sufficient."

You nod. "My quarters."

He nods.

"Okay, you'll probably have to add another bead, so it'll fit. Let me—" you shift closer to him, taking a look at the bracelet in his hand. "—look at it."

It's only slightly too small for him, now. He'd decided to use the small glass bead in an elaborate pattern of rust, royal blue and copper. You had used the large plastic beads, and jokingly put an S bead on the bracelet. Baby blue.

"I do not see the point in making bracelets, Doctor."

You laugh. He's been happily putting beads on a string. He'd taken around ten minutes just choosing colours.

"Only idea I could come up with, really. Part of human culture."

You lean over, shoulder bumping his. "Okay, that looks good. Can I check it?"

Spock's eyebrow twitches. "Yes. That is agreeable."

"Alrighty." You gently grab each end of his bracelet, and he sticks his hand out. You bring the bracelet up, cupping his wrist like a U.

"Huh." You huff, scooting forward. "Okay, yeah, that's good. Want me to tie it?"

You glance up, making eye contact with Spock. The green of his face makes your eyebrows crease, but his face stays impassive.

He nods.

You promptly begin tying the bracelet, tearing your gaze away from his.

Once you have it double knotted, you reach over to the table, retrieve the scissors, and grab his hand.

Once you've snipped the excess, you hide the knot under a bead.

"Doctor."

You hum. "Yes?"

When looking to Spock, you are met only by his unwavering stare and green cheeks. No words.

Your gaze travels down, your hand holding his.

"Oh fuck me."

"That does seem to be the message you are sending, Doctor."