#so glad to have finally found a new show that is coming close to giving me bbs type shrimp emotions | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

simjaexy · 22 days

Text

𝙊𝙪𝙧 𝙇𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙎𝙚𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙩 𝙎.𝙅

pairing ⇀ professor! sim jaeyun x (f) student! reader

synopsis ⇀ you always knew your professor was attractive, so it wasn’t new when girls would try to gain his attention. what you didn’t know though was that he only had his eyes on you. what comes as a friendly teacher-student relationship takes a turn when you find yourself thinking differently about him with your private lessons together.

genre ⇀ smut, angst

warnings ⇀ MINORS DNI!, lower case intended, four year age gap (jake is 22 and reader is 18), tons of jealousy, cursing, jake is obsessed with oblivious reader, dom! jaeyun x sub! reader, name calling (slut, whore, and etc.), (f) receiving, pussy eating, unprotected sex, cum eating, choking, multiple orgasms

w.c ⇀ 5.4k

a/n ⇀ i don’t know why but this was and on and off fic i was doing cause i didn’t really like but i’m glad i finally finished it. i can’t tell if this was good or not because i was stressing on how to put the ending so bear with me on that. reblog, like, comment, etc.! lmk if i missed any warnings! not proofread.

masterlist here

the first time you saw professor sim was during the orientation week. you were a freshman, nervous and excited about starting your journey in college. the campus was bustling with activity, and you were trying to find your way to the science building for your first lecture.

as you walked through the crowded hallway, you accidentally bumped into someone, "oh, I'm so sorry!" you exclaimed, looking up to see a tall man with a kind smile.

"no worries at all," he replied, adjusting his glasses. "are you lost?"

"uh, yeah, actually. I'm trying to find the science building," you admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed.

"you're in luck. I'm heading there myself. i’m professor sim, by the way," he said, extending his hand.

you shook his hand, feeling a bit more at ease. "nice to meet you, professor sim. i’m l/n y/n.”

"well, y/n, follow me. i'll show you the way," he said, leading you through the maze of hallways. as you walked, you noticed his broad back through his suit. the suit fitting perfectly on him. you blushed watching him strut confidently past students and teachers watching him walk past.

you definitely won’t lie and say he’s not handsome. his glasses framing his face perfectly. you never knew you would like guys with glasses. he suddenly asked about your interests and what drew you to study science. his genuine interest in your answers made you feel welcome.

fast forward to the present, you were now in your second semester, and professor sim class had quickly become your favorite. his enthusiasm for science was infectious, and he had a knack for making even the most complex topics seem approachable. however, the latest homework assignment was proving to be a real challenge.

as you packed your notebooks and computer you saw a girl bluntly flirting with him. batting her eyelashes at him. it wasn’t new seeing different girls trying to talk to him, purposely saying they need help just to see him up close. you cleared your throat you gathered your courage and approached his desk. "professor sim, could I ask for some help with the homework? i’m really struggling with the concepts."

he looked up at you, a warm smile spreading across his face, completely ignoring the other girl in front of him. he probably knew what she was trying to do, "of course, i'd be happy to help. why don't you come by my office later this afternoon?"

the girl huffed at her non existence and walked away, leaving the both of you alone. you nodded, feeling a wave of relief.

later that day, you found yourself sitting across from him in his office. the room was filled with books and scientific models, and the faint smell of coffee lingered in the air.

"alright," he said, pulling up a chair next to you, "let's take a look at what you're having trouble with."

you pulled out your notebook, showing him the problems that had been giving you headaches. he patiently explained each step, breaking down the complex ideas into simpler terms. his explanations were clear and concise, and he used analogies that made the material more relatable.

"see? you're getting the hang of it," he encouraged, his eyes twinkling with pride. "sometimes all it takes is a different perspective."

as you worked through the problems together, you found yourself gaining a deeper understanding of the subject. you also couldn’t help but look at his side profile, his plump soft lips moving with passion for science was evident in every word he spoke, and it was impossible not to be inspired by his enthusiasm.

"thank you so much, professor jake," you said sincerely as you packed up your things. "i really appreciate your help."

"anytime, y/n. don't hesitate to reach out if you need more assistance," he replied with a smile.

you gave him another smile. you left his office feeling more confident and grateful for his guidance. professor sim had not only made the subject more accessible but had also shown you that with the right support, you could tackle even the toughest challenges.

over the next few weeks, you continued to visit his office for help, and each time, you left with a better understanding of the material. his encouragement and patience made all the difference, and you began to see science in a whole new light.

even though you guys only talked about science and just science, you couldn’t help but notice when sim would ask you questions outside of science. like ‘what do you think about your teachers?’ or ‘who’s your favorite teacher so far?’, and each time he’d ask, you would always say him.

one afternoon, as you were wrapping up another productive session, he asked, "so, y/n, have you thought about what you want to do after college?"

you paused, considering his question. it was new for him to ask that, "i'm not entirely sure yet. i know i want to do something in science, but I haven't decided on a specific path."

"that's perfectly fine," he said reassuringly. "you have plenty of time to figure it out. just remember to follow your passion and stay curious. the rest will fall into place."

you smiled, feeling a sense of reassurance, “thank you professor sim. i really appreciate that.”

you watch him push his hair back with a smile. you felt your heart skip a beat and immediately looked away, “i-i think i should get going. it’s getting pretty late.”

“you don’t need a ride do you? it’s pretty dark out since we practiced a bit longer than usual.” he reasoned. you thought for a moment. it is dark out and you don’t know who’s outside at this time. so, you nodded your head.

“great. i’ll tidy up before we go.” he said. you watched him put a few books away and tidying up his desk for tomorrow before grabbing his keys from his drawer. he then walked you to the door.

you both left the college and went to the parking lot. you felt yourself feeling nervous. it was your first time going with sim anywhere but his class. he went to a mercedes car making you hum in acknowledgement.

he chuckled at your reaction, “like it?” he teased. you nodded your head and giggled.

“i don’t really know cars that well, but i just know this one is expensive.” you said. his laugh causing a stir in your stomach.

you both entered the car and buckled up. he backed from the parking lot, “do you live on campus or somewhere else?” he asked.

“i live on campus, but the other one.” you spoke.

“you live pretty far? you walk here?” he murmured. he gazed at you curiously.

you chuckled, “it’s a good walk. i wake up a bit earlier so i’m not late for your class.”

he smiled at you, “if i would’ve known you go that far i’d spare you.” you shook your head and smiled back.

the car ride was silent, you let out a sigh and lay your head on the window. the past few days you haven’t been getting much sleep. you felt your eyes get a bit heavy.

“tired?” sim questioned. you opened your eyes back up and nodded.

“a little. sorry, haven’t really got much sleep. i’ve been so stressed out that i couldn’t sleep.” you joked, but it wasn’t really a joke.

sim hummed, he understood how tiring college could be, “you can take a nap. i mean if you want too. i’ll wake you up when we’re at the campus.” he said.

you smiled gratefully. soon your eyes became heavy and that’s when you fell asleep. your soft breathing soon filling the silence.

jake looked at your sleeping figure. you really were the prettiest student he’s ever seen. he knows it’s wrong to think of you like that. you’re supposed to be just a student to him, but he can’t help but think of something more.

your smile that makes him feel a type of way inside. your pretty laugh that he can’t help but adore. those thoughts were just something he thought weren’t bad, but his other thoughts were a bit more mature.

the way your outfits fit your body perfectly. your breast sitting perfectly in your bra, jiggling when you walk towards him. it’s hard for him not to get rock hard and stare. your fingers so pretty to him that he wonders if they're just as pretty inside your pussy. your glossy lips so pretty when they pout, he wonders what they would feel like around his dick. he just knows they’d stretch so pretty.

he soon parks the car in front of the campus. he shakes you softly, “y/n. we’re here.”

you groaned and turned away from him. he tried shaking you awake again, but you didn’t budge. he sighed and looked around. maybe he could just pick you up and take you to your dorm. that wouldn’t be weird right?

he got off his car and went to your side, opening the car door. he grabbed your backpack and slung it over his shoulder. he unbuckled your seatbelt and picked you up swiftly. he was hoping no one was awake at this time. he opened the door with his free hand and entered the building.

as soon as he unlocked your door he set you down on your bed with your bag on the chair. he couldn’t help but curiously look around. your room filled with collage photos of you and your friends. there was a photo of you and your parents. he slowly picked up the photo and smiled. you looked happy unlike the times you were in the halls.

he set it back down and was about to head out until he heard you making a noise, “sim please. down there.” you moaned out.

jake paused his walking and looked back at you. you were still sleeping, but your breathing started to become uneven and heavy. wait, were you having a dream about him?

he slowly prodded towards you and slightly shook you. you really were a deep sleeper. just then you let out another noise. it sounded like a whimper.

“fuck me sim.” you whispered.

what. the. fuck.

jake nearly choked on his spit. there was no way you talk this clearly in your sleep. were you joking with him? his breathing became unsteady with the uncomfortable feeling between his legs. he cursed at himself for still standing here and quickly left. locking the door on the way out.

he would just pretend he never heard you.

he couldn’t pretend. the whole day he was thinking about what you said last night. with him having to solve his little problem himself. you acted normally the way you did. you remembered he took you back to your campus cause you thanked him first thing when you saw him. if only he didn’t make it seem awkward.

you on the other hand was confused why professor sim was acting strange. were you snoring really loud in his car? you really hoped you didn’t.

as class came to an end, you packed your stuff. as you were packing you couldn’t help but look over at professor sim. your eyes went wide when you saw him talking to another female teacher. you didn’t even notice she came in.

they seem to be chatting about something funny cause sim was laughing a lot to what she was saying. you felt a weird feeling in your chest that you couldn’t describes. was it jealousy?

you sighed and put your bag over your shoulder and left the class without sparing another look. as you were walking you suddenly heard your name being called. you turn around expecting a specific person, but you saw that it was riki.

you gave him a fake smile, “hey riki.” you said. riki smiled once he caught up to you.

“are you okay? i tried texting you last night but you didn’t answer.” he asked. you pushed your hair behind your ear suddenly remembering last night again.

“o-oh i came home pretty early and fell asleep. did you need to talk about something?” you spoke.

riki nodded, “actually i was gonna talk to you about the project-“ “y/n.”

your eyebrows furrowed and looked behind riki, only to see none other than professor sim. he came closer to you guys, “you guys should head to class or you’ll be late, especially you mr. nishimura.”

the tone in professor sim kinda intimidated you. his voice bitter and sharp towards riki. riki nervously nodded his head and gave you a tight smile before walking past you. you looked at professor sim only to see him looking at you.

“did you need something professor sim?” you mumbled, feeling small under his strong gaze.

“don’t waste your time talking to guys and focus on your classes.” he suddenly said. his voice coming more harsh than he intended. your eyebrows furrowed felling a bit offended.

“excuse me?” you said “you should know i don’t waste my time on guys. riki isn’t just any guy, he’s my friend.”

before jake could say something you walked away. jake sighed and pushed his hair back. he didn’t mean to come out like that. he couldn’t shake that feeling of jealousy when he saw how close riki was to you. he��d have to apologize later.

you sighed when your last class finally finished. you were supposed to have your tutoring lesson with sim, but after that incident you don’t think you could go. you’ll just email him saying you’re sick. you left the college and walked to your campus.

you listened to a few playlists while walking. the cool breeze with the sunny sky made you feel relaxed. once you came to your campus you said hi to the lady up front and went to your room. you set your bag on the floor and sighed. a shower sounds good. before you went in the shower you emailed sim about your canc and shut your computer.

you took a quick shower and finished up. you wrapped a robe around your body and dried your hair with a towel, but before you could grab your phone you heard a knock at your door. you frowned, nobody barely knocks on your door, so who could it be. you opened the door and your eyes widened in surprise. it was sim.

“professor sim? what are you-“ “are you that mad at me?” he cut you off. you closed your mouth. is that why he came all the way here?

“professor sim im not mad-“ “so why are you ignoring me?” he said. you didn’t know it mattered that much to him.

“i-i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to cancel last minute.” you said. maybe that’s why he was upset. he doesn’t like when people cancel stuff last minute. he shook his head.

“i’m not mad if that’s what you’re thinking. i’m asking if you’re mad about what i did earlier.” he admitted. oh. that’s what he was talking about. to be honest you don’t know if you were really mad anymore. so, you shook your head.

“it’s okay. i’m sorry for being rude.” you muttered.

“i should say sorry too. i know you don’t do any of those things. i was just in a bad mood.” he said. was he really in a bad mood if he was talking to that female teacher happily?

you gave him a fake smile, “it’s okay professor sim. was that all you came here for.”

just as he was about to say something, he averted his gaze down and noticed you were in a robe. he felt his face burning and looked back up at you, “o-oh i’m sorry. did i interrupt your bathing time?” he stuttered.

“huh?”

you looked down and also noticed you were still in your robe. you gasped and moved the door in front of you, “i’m sorry!”

he tried shaking his head, but you just kept apologizing, “no it’s fine really! it’s my fault.”

you stopped apologizing and stared at him, awkwardness filling the air. he cleared his throat and looked back at you, “i-i’ll get going-“

“wait. i know this might sound weird, but do you wanna come in for a moment? we can do the lesson here if you're still up for it.” you thought. jake pondered for a moment before nodding.

you got done getting dress in your bathroom and came out. you saw sim sitting on the floor with textbooks on the wooden table you had in the middle of your room. he was looking around your room before staring at you.

you smiled at him and sat next to him, “we can start where we left off yesterday if that’s fine.” you said. he nodded and flipped the page to where you guys left off.

as you he taught you easy ways to get the answer, you felt yourself getting distracted once again by his visuals. you didn’t know what you were feeling at this point, it was a feeling you hated, but wanted to know more about. all of a sudden sim looked at you. you felt your breath get caught in your throat. he was staring at you with a questionable linger in his eyes. you felt his breath against your face. you guys were so close that if you moved a step your lips would touch.

“sim-“ “push me away if you don’t want this.” was all he said when you suddenly felt lips on yours.

you gasped and held tightly on his shirt. his lips molding against yours perfectly. you moaned when you felt his hand grip your ass, making him have access to enter his tongue. you felt your room getting hot as you lay on the ground with sim on top of you.

you took off his jacket while he helped you take it off without breaking the kiss. the dim lighting of your fairy lights making it seem darker than usual. he took off your shorts, only leaving your underwear on. he kissed and sucked along your jawline to your chest, kissing it gently. the sexual tension you guys had finally snapping in him. he lifted your shirt up and unclasped your bra. you felt the cold air hit your nipples and made a noise.

he smirked against your chest before gripping one breast and sucking the other. you let out a moan and gripped his locks. he groaned and pinched your nipple making you jerk.

“sim.” you whimpered. he looked up at you and departed from your breast.

he started unbuttoning his long sleeve button up, “call me jake.” he said. you bit your lip when you finally saw his toned body. god if you would’ve known he had that body under his suit you would’ve made a move sooner.

he leaned back down and kissed you gently, biting your lip making you sigh. you felt his right hand slowly going down until it made contact with your cloth pussy. you threw your head back when you suddenly felt him rub your folds up and down.

he dipped his hand in a second later and confused rubbing your folds, “fuck you’re so wet.” he murmured.

you nodded and kissed him again. both of your lips swollen. you wouldn’t want it any other way though. he took his fingers away and put them in his mouth. you watched intensely as he smirked at you. he got up and lifted you up bridal style before putting you on your bed. he unbuckled his pants and pulled them down revealing his boxers.

you gasp at the outline of his dick. you know it’s big. he got on top of you again and slid down your underwear. you felt yourself blushing with how he stared. you felt the urge to close your legs but before you could jake dipped his head down to your pussy.

“j-jake wait.” you moaned when you suddenly felt his hot tongue lick your folds.

he groaned as you gripped his hair again. he licked your folds again but this time he sucked on your clit. you thrash around at the new feeling as your eyes rolled back.

the sound of wet slurping noises was the only thing heard in your room. jake couldn’t get enough of your pussy. he was a completely pussy drunk man at this moment. your sweet juices leaking out, he knows you love it just as much as he does.

you felt a tight feeling in your pussy and patted his head, “j-jake m’gonna cum!” you cried out. he didn’t stop making you feel your climax coming. you let out one last moan before your orgasm finally hit. your legs shaking on the side of his head. he drummed up your cum like he was a dehydrated man.

you panted harshly and whined when he finally pulled away. he licked the rest on his chin, “fuck, you taste so good.” he says. he pulls his boxers down and that’s when you finally saw his dick. it was veiny and hard, precum at the tip.

“do you need to be prepped?” he said. you shook your head. you needed his dick in you now.

he positioned himself at your entrance before slowly pushing in. he groaned while you whimpered and held him tightly. he hissed when he felt you scratching at his back. slowly, he backed up and pushed back in so you could get used to the feeling.

a few minutes later you felt a pleasure tingling in your body, “j-jake faster. please.”

he didn’t need to be told twice. he started going at a faster pace and that’s when you were out of it. his tip hitting your g-spot.

“yes! right there! oh fuck!” you cried out. the sound of skin slapping, panting, and bed creaking was heard. you had a feeling people could hear you, but you could care less. especially with the way jake was fucking you.

he gripped your neck with a free hand, “such a little whore for dick. gonna be a good bitch for me?” he rasped out. you nodded your head frantically.

he felt you squeeze his dick and moaned. your pussy was a match made in heaven just for him.

you felt another orgasm coming and arched your back. he gripped your hips and snapped his hips harder. your orgasm hit you hard and you saw white. jake snapped his hips three more times before pulling his dick out, stroking himself on your stomach before cumming.

both of you panted uneven and hard. he got off your bed and grabbed the towel you used for your hair and wiped your stomach and wiped your pussy. you whined from sensitivity.

he grabbed another pair of pajamas for you and helped your put them on.

he put the towel in your dirty basket and went back to you, pushing your hair back, “i should get going.” he said.

you pouted, “do you have to leave?”

jake hated that he did, but he can’t get caught with his own student, “it’s for the better. you’ll see me tomorrow.”

you finally nodded your head. he covered you with your blanket and kissed your head, “goodnight beautiful.” he whispered. you soon dozed off into dreamland.

jake got dressed and looked at you one last time before shutting your door with a soft click.

you groaned feeling an ach in your body. you got up and went to your bathroom. you looked at yourself in the mirror and gasped. your neck was covered in hickeys from your neck to your chest. you traced your fingers along them and slowly smiled.

you took another shower and got dressed for the day. you out on a crew neck to cover your hickeys. good thing it was cold out today.

you soon got to the campus and entered your class to see jake already there typing on his computer. he didn’t notice you so you decided to sit down at your seat. once the bell ring he looked up from his computer and spotted you. he gave you a knowing grin before standing up, getting ready for the lecture.

“alright guys, did you finish the homework from yesterday?” he chimed. students began taking out their notes and handed them in. you turned yours in too. jake continued his lecture until the bell rang. students left the class while you waited until everyone left.

you went up to his desk and gave him a smile. he got up and gave you a hug. you giggled and stuffed your face in his neck.

“your not hurt anywhere are you?” he asked. you shook your head. he sighed in relief before letting you go.

“same time at my place?” you said. jake chuckled and quickly pecked your lips.

“i can’t today. i have a meeting to attend.” he spoke. you pouted, but understood.

“okay. i’ll see you later though right?” you said. he chuckled at your urgent question and nodded.

“of course you will beautiful.” he replied. you smiled cheerfully before leaving his class so he could attend his meeting.

over the next few days it would be the same. jake would come over to your dorm and would spend time with you, either having loving sex or just spending time together. everything was going just the way you wanted it too. until an incident happened.

rumors started to spread around campus. whispers of favoritism and inappropriate relationships between you and professor sim filled the halls. despite your best efforts to ignore them, the pressure was mounting.

one evening, after a particularly stressful day, jake asked to meet you in his office.

you opened the door to his office to see him already there in deep thought. you let out a gulp before going towards him, “jake?”

he looked up at you, but it wasn’t with the same loving look he usually gave you. “y/n, we need to talk," he began, his voice heavy with emotion. "i think we should stop what we’re doing. what we had was nothing but satisfaction we wanted to get off our chests.”

your heart sank, where was he coming from with this? satisfaction? getting it off our chest? you couldn’t help but feel tears pricking your eyes, “w-what do you mean? don’t you love me?”

jake stared at you as if you were just a regular person to him, “y/n, what we had wasn’t love. you were just a way to relive my stress. whatever you thought we had ends here. you may be dismissed.”

the lack of emotions in his voice finally made your tears fall freely.

you let out a sob, “i hate you! don’t ever talk to me again!” you screamed out before leaving his room, slamming the door shut.

weeks went by, and the pain of the breakup lingered. you threw yourself into your studies, trying to keep your mind off jake. even though you had him first period and he was your professor, you made a good route on ignoring him. none of it was easy, but you found solace in your friend, riki, who had always been there for you. his presence was comforting, and slowly, you began to smile again.

“are you gonna have that?” riki asked. you rolled your eyes at him before smiling. you gave him your cookie which he happily accepted.

you both were currently waiting at a bus station. after riki found out you walk a long way to the college, he insisted on paying for your bus rides as long as he gets to go with you.

“it’s way too cold out today.” you commented. riki nodded his head as he munched on the cookie. you shivered when a gust of wind blew at you guys. riki noticed your freezing state.

“come closer to me.” he said. you scooted a bit closer to him and lay your head on his shoulder. you sighed at somewhat of a closer warm feeling. as you guys continued waiting you saw a familiar car stopping in front of you guys. your eyes widened when the driver door suddenly opened revealing jake.

before you could think, jake yanked your wrist and pulled you away from riki. you yelped and tried taking your wrist away from him.

“what the hell are you doing?” you snapped at him. riki got up and tried to help you but jake stopped him.

“get the hell away or you’ll regret it.” he gritted his teeth. riki stopped and looked at you worriedly. you shook your head at him not to come any further. jake took you to his car, opening the passenger door and setting you inside. he slammed it shut before going to the drivers seat and entering.

you silently watched him start the car, leaving riki in the cold. you felt guilty and angry and looked at jake, “let me go jake! i wanna be with riki!” you yelled.

jake ignored you. you scoffed, “jake seriously. let me go!”

“stop talking or i’ll find a way to make you.” he said. you immediately stopped ranting and stared at him. you decided to stay silent. you knew you couldn’t fight him when it came to this.

in all honesty jake never felt so jealous before until now. you were so close to riki that something inside him snapped. at first he was gonna let it go since he’s the one that initiated the end to your relationship, but he saw a spark in your eyes that he hadn't seen in a while.

a pang of regret hit him hard. he realized that letting you go was a mistake. the rumors and the pressure seemed insignificant compared to the happiness he saw in your eyes.

you arrived at a building. you assumed it was an apartment building. jake opened your door when he came out. you stepped out when he grabbed your wrist and took you inside.

when you finally got to a room he unlocked it with a pin and entered it. the first thing you saw was shelves lined with scientific journals and textbooks, a whiteboard covered in equations and diagrams, but amidst all the science, there was also a comfy reading nook with a big, plush armchair and a collection of classic novels. you noticed how he had a nice window view of the city night. now that you thought of it, it was your first time at his place.

“you can take your jacket off.” he said. slowly, you took off your jacket. he grabbed it and settled it on a rack.

you stood there awkwardly and waited for his next move. he extended his hand out for you to grab. you took it as he walked you to the couch, “i’ll go get us some drinks.”

you sat down on the couch and waited. you didn’t know what to talk about to him. he came back with a drink and handed it to you. you grabbed it and took a small sip. he sat down next to you and that’s when he made he contact with you, but this time he had that same old look he gave you back then.

"y/n, I made a mistake," he confessed. "seeing you with riki made me realize how much i miss you. i thought i was protecting you, but all I did was hurt you. can you ever forgive me?"

you took a deep breath, the memories of your time together flooding back. you wanted to just drop everything and forgive him, but you knew it’s best to face reality.

“professor sim-“ “jake.” he cut you off.

you sighed, “jake, i forgive you, but i don’t think we can go back to the way it was. what you said really did hurt me that i couldn’t even eat or sleep. i don’t wanna go that same route again.”

jake looked at you regretfully. you just wanted to hug him and hold him forever. he stared down, “i understand. i don’t blame you at all. i really did fuck it up cause i was a coward.” he admitted.

“you’re not a coward jake. you just didn’t wanna lose your job.”

“but i lost you instead.” he said. now it was your turn to stare down. jake slowly lifted your head up with his hand under your chin.

"I promise y/n, i’ll do anything to get you back." he promised.

you gave him a smile. you know it’ll take time to work things out, but you knew if you did it together, nothing would stop you guys from being with each other. so, you cupped your hand on his and gave him a reassuring smile.

“i’m counting you on that sim jake. and if you do get me back, it can be our little secret.”

947 notes · View notes

iluvmattsbeard · 5 months

Text

where were you? (m.s)

master list

matt sturniolo x reader

VERY STRONG WARNING: SELF HARM/angst/swearing

(please do not read if you are highly sensitive with this subject.)

preview: you were the new student at school. you kept to yourself which caught Matt's eye. he was determined to figure you out.

a/n: this one hits close to home. if you are struggling with your mental health, know you are not alone. you are here for a reason. these type of emotions are tricky to figure out and no one should have to deal with them all by themselves. YOU ARE WORTH MORE THAN YOU THINK. I thank the triplets for bringing me back to life, especially Matt for shining light on the subject and being so genuine.

it was early in the morning at school. you just moved to Boston a few weeks ago. you were suppose to start school right away but you couldn't find the strength to do so. you were dreading being in a new environment and meeting new people. today, you had no choice but to show up. the school was blowing up your grandparents phones asking when you will be coming in. so today, you finally showed up.

you walked into the school's office getting your schedule. "name?" the lady at the front desk asks. "y/n l/n" you spoke out quietly looking around. she nods as she looks through a drawer pulling out a small sheet of paper, also grabbing a map. she hands you them as she speaks, "welcome to our school. enjoy your first day!" she says with a warm smile. you give a weak closed mouth smile as you thank her.

you look at the map as you find your way to your first class. taking small steps as possible still dreading being there. you finally stop in front of the classroom door as you put your hand on the handle gently, taking a small breather before stepping inside.

as soon as you walk in, all eyes land on you. you stand there uncomfortably with your heart racing fast. you took their looks feeling judged already. "hello! you must be y/n. correct?" you nod. "great. nice having you here. you may take a seat anywhere." you try to avoid looking around as you make your way straight to the back, sitting in an empty seat. you sat next to a brown haired boy not really paying attention to his face. "hey" you hear him whisper. you turn to look at him automatically catching his blue eyes. "hi" you whisper back looking away after. "i'm Matt" he says still having his eyes on you. as you don't respond, he continues to speak, "uh... I just wanted to introduce myself since we'll be sitting next to each other for the rest of the quarter. we usually do lots of partner work so, I was just hoping to get to know you so this isn't awkward."

you look at him with a blank stare. you appreciated his effort. "I'm y/n" you respond. he gives a soft smile as he looks at the paper laying on your desk. "can I take a look?" he asks pointing at your schedule. you nod sliding it over to him. "I can help show you around." he offers looking up from the paper and back towards you. you shake your head a bit before speaking, "no it's fine." grabbing your schedule. "i'll figure it out." "well I would like to anyways to make you feel comfortable." he suggests. you knew he wasn't going to stop pushing so you later on agree.

Matt walked with you during every passing period before lunch. he showed you where the bathrooms were, where the library was, and where the cafeteria was before walking you to your next class. the last class before lunch. "that actually helps a lot" you tell him with the same weak smile from earlier. "i'm glad" he says with a smile before walking away. you walk into class as you sit down looking at the clock already wanting the time to go faster.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

you were finally home as you stand in front of your bathroom mirror sighing. you looked at yourself for a bit. analyzing your face noticing your heavy eye bags. you suffered from the worst insomnia. every night you felt yourself being so tired. but when you shut your eyes, your mind keeps you awake with thoughts you wish you could avoid.

“y/n?” you hear your grandmother say behind the door as she knocks. you open the door revealing her with a gentle smile. “hi y/n. how was school?” she asks. “it went great.” you reply lying through your teeth. you had no choice but to lie. you didn’t feel the need to throw your negativity onto her. you always kept your own thoughts to yourself. especially around your grandparents. you didn’t want to worry them or push them away. they were all you had since your parents disappeared with no warning a few years ago. that’s when everything went down hill for you.

you had this repetitive thought in your head telling you how much of a disappointment you were that even your own parents couldn’t stay. you slowly lost yourself and your ability to socialize.

when night time came around, you laid in bed in the pitch black dark as you let out a soft sigh shutting your eyes. you were practically begging at this point for a good night’s rest. but you couldn’t. you open your eyes as you get up and walk to the bathroom locking it. you opened the drawer and focus your eye on something you were use to. picking it up and letting out a shaky breath.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

it’s been a few days now since you’ve been at school. every day had you feeling drained. you even still felt like you were being constantly judged even though people’s stares soon disappeared. you still felt the need to be on your toes. it was lunch time. you walked out of class as you see Matt. “hey y/n. you want to join me for lunch?” he asks. you avoid eye contact with him walking as you speak, “i guess” he nods with a smile as he starts talking about how his day has been so far with you just listening.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

you and Matt have been talking more at school. you told him where you were before moving to Boston, you shared common interests, and he talked about his brothers a lot. you were slowly getting used to having him around.

as you and Matt sit in class, you both just sat there doing your work. it was pretty silent in class indicating everyone was focused. you were minding your business until one of your classmates accidentally bumped into your table causing your phone to fall onto the ground. you lean down in your chair reaching for your it as the sleeve of your hoodies goes up slightly. Matt also went to reach for your phone but he stopped himself when he catches a glimpse of your slightly raised sleeve.

Matt’s POV

when i almost reached down to pick up y/n’s phone, i can’t help but notice her sleeve going up a bit revealing her wrist covered in red slits. it stopped me in my tracks as i sat there in shock. she didn’t notice at all that i seen. i look away as i continue to do my work, or pretend, having the image stuck on my mind. why would she do that?

End of Matt’s POV

when school finally ends, you walk out the doors as you get stopped by Matt. “hey y/n!” you turn to look at him. “oh hi” you respond. “you said you walk home so, can i give you a ride?” he asks. “no it’s okay. i like to walk.” you reply with a blank stare. Matt has now been eyeing you closely after what happened.

“come on” he says grabbing your hand softly with a slight smile pulling you to where his car is. “Matt seriously it’s no problem” you say. he opens the door for you looking at you before speaking, “get in” you step inside his car thanking him. “well that was nice of him”you thought to yourself.

the car ride was mostly silent as the only sound playing was his music slightly low. you notice he would glance at you from time to time. after a bit, he pulls up in front of your house putting the car in park. “thank you Matt. i really appreciate it.” you spoke looking at him. “anytime y/n.” he responds smiling. before you completely got out the car he stops you. “oh wait.” you turn around to look at him again. “is it okay to ask for your number?” he asks hoping you would say yes. “um.. sure.” you reply hesitantly. you never really gave anybody your number before. but Matt has been the first to ask for your number in the first place. he hands you his phone and you type it in. he thanks you with a smile and you just nod before going inside.

it was later in the night when you found yourself on your bathroom floor with a blank face. you look down and lift up your sleeves as you flinch a bit from the fabric sticking onto your fresh cuts. you looked at it feeling numb. you had your reasons for doing what you did. but nobody seemed to care to ask. you hid it from your grandparents because you didn’t want to crush them. they basically raised you when your parents couldn’t. they didn’t need to feel like they failed because that’s far from the truth. they did everything right. you just truly were stuck in your own head. that’s why the only comfort you were use to was picking up your razor blade.

you sigh as you let your thoughts consume you. you didn’t want to feel this way anymore. you just wanted to escape from your own head. you pick up the blade but hear your phone buzz.

unknown number

‘hey y/n it’s matt’

you pick up your phone as you reply back.

Y/N

‘hi matt’

as soon as you know it, you two were texting all night distracting you before going to bed.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

it’s been quite some time now you’ve been in Boston. even though you had Matt, every single day that goes by got you feeling weaker and weaker. Matt would distract you sometimes. he still had no clue what you’ve been going through. besides the one time he’s seen it but never brought it up.

Matt’s POV

i showed up to school anticipating excitement knowing i get to see y/n. she’s honestly the best person to talk to. it still crosses my mind the thought of her hurting herself but lately i haven’t seen any other signs. but when i arrived to class, she wasn’t there.

Matt

‘where are you?’

i text her but i get no response. i decided to wait and not think much of it until i realized she wasn’t texting back all day.

Matt

‘y/n are you okay?’

‘answer me y/n’

‘why aren’t you at school? why aren’t you replying?’

no response.

when school ends, i decided to get in my car and drive to her house. it was starting to scare me.

End of Matt’s POV

you sat on your bathroom floor with your head leaned against your bath tub, looking at the ceiling. your door wasn’t closed all the way so when Matt walked into your room and saw you in your bathroom, he felt his heart drop. you turned your head as you sat up, “Matt? how’d you get in here?” you ask confused. he walks up to you as he shuts the bathroom door.

“your grandma let me in.” he says. “why weren’t you responding to my texts? what’s wrong?” he asks. you avoid eye contact as you speak, “sorry. just didn’t feel like going.” all he does is stare at you before sitting down in front of you. “talk to me” he says quietly not pulling his eyes away from you. “there’s nothing to talk about?” you say in a confused tone. “clearly there is. i know you don’t like school but you will show up. how come not today?” he questions. “like i said, i didn’t feel like going.” you respond looking at your hands. “are you at least okay?” Matt asks with worry plastered on his face.

“of course i am” you say looking at him with a weak smile. “why wouldn’t i be?” he stays silent as he grabs your hand softly. taking his other hand to raise your sleeve slowly, with him looking at it frozen. you yank your hand away as you get up pulling the sleeve back down.

“what the fuck are you doing?” you ask as you feel yourself heat up. he stands up as well before speaking, “y/n why didn’t you tell me?” “what was there to tell you Matt?” you say in annoyance. “you doing that y/n. why didn’t you just tell me?” he asks with a somber face. “i saw them before in class when you reached for your phone. i never said anything because i didn’t want to pressure you.” “what was i suppose to tell you Matt?!” you say raising your voice. “it’s none of your business or your concern!”

“y/n please talk to me. i’m worried about you.” he says trying to grab your hand but you step back. “don’t touch me! i don’t need you feeling sorry for me.” you tell him. “i care about you. i get you like to keep things to yourself but i’m hear to listen.” he says. you let out a scoff, “this is unbelievable.” you say. “what’s so unbelievable about me wanting to be here for you?” you look at him with your face burning up from rage after his response. “i didn’t ask for you to be here! you should’ve minded your own business.” you exclaim. “i felt like i needed to be here y/n. for you. i don’t want you going through this alone. it pains me to know you just keep quiet.”

“because it’s none of your fucking business Matt! it’s my shit to keep to myself. not for you to hear. it pains you? well how do you think i feel!” you yell out. “y/n please.” he says quietly. “no Matt! i want you gone. no one has ever been here for me before and i sure as hell don’t need anybody now! especially you being here telling me you care when you don’t know shit!”

“yeah i don’t know shit y/n. that’s why i’m here trying to prove to you that i want to be here for you!” he says keeping eye contact. “Matt just get out!” you yell. “i’m not going anywhere y/n.” he says getting close to you trying to hold you but you push your hands against his chest trying to pull away from him, repeatedly screaming out, “get out! get out! GET OUT!” but he doesn’t listen and you eventually give into his hold as you break down crying with your legs giving out. Matt goes down as well holding you as he leans back against the sink cabinet wrapping his arms around you, embracing you in a hug.

he rubs your back softly as you sob in his chest. “i got you y/n. i’m right here for you.” he says reassuringly, resting his chin on your head. “i’m here to listen.” he pulls away as he lifts up your chin looking at the tears roll down your cheeks. he wipes them away and tucks your hair behind your ear. “i don’t know what’s wrong with me. i want the thoughts to go away and i try to put it into words but i just don’t get it.” you say sadly. he holds your hand as he speaks, “i know it can be difficult. i’m not asking you to tell me everything now because i know this is new for you. take all the time you need. but, i will be here. for you.” you look into his eyes as more tears stream down your face from his kind words. “you’ll be okay i promise.” he finishes, wiping your tears away again. you wrap your arms around his neck hugging him as he wraps his around your waist.

you knew you were safe with him. he validated that for you. “where were you when i needed someone the most?” you whisper out. “i could’ve avoided all this.”

“now they’re just going to turn into ugly scars…” you add on. he pulls away from the hug as he lifts up your sleeves. you gulp as he looks at them. he pulls your arms up gently to his face as he leaves soft kisses on your self inflicted wounds.

“don’t say that. when they turn into scars, i will look at them and tell you how incredibly beautiful they are.” he says. “you’re here for a reason y/n. these that will soon turn into scars, will show how you’ll progress to be stronger.”

you smile softly not even remembering the last time you actually let out a real smile. “thank you Matt.” you say. he smiles as he leaves a kiss on your forehead. “don’t thank me. i’ll always be here.” he says leaving the both of you still on the bathroom floor embracing each other.

A/N: i hope you guys enjoyed this Matt imagine. please always spread kindness and positivity!

758 notes · View notes

ccsainzleclerc5516 · 8 days

Text

Toto’s Daughter (part 1)

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x reader

Warnings: smut

Most would think that it is not easy to be Toto Wolff's daughter. But that was not your case. You weren't part of the Formula 1 world. You lived abroad far from the world your dad was in. Everyone knew that you existed, of course, but you did your best to make your life as private and peaceful as possible, away from the public eye. And you did it successfully.

When you were younger you often attended races, you traveled with your dad all over the world, you were surrounded by big names, but over time, as you got older, that world stopped being of interest to you. You found your hobbies, your interests and your life, which you enjoyed every day.

When Lewis Hamilton won his first Formula 1 championship, you were only 9 years old. He was not a stranger to you, you practically grew up around him. Your dad held him in high esteem and enjoyed working with him. Over time, for your dad, Lewis Hamilton was no longer just a "driver", he became part of your family. Your family and Lewis often hung out outside of work, going on vacations, family lunches, birthdays, celebrations and things like that.

You had a good relationship with him, he would always ask you something here and there, joke with you, ask you about school, the usual things that adults ask children. That’s exactly what you were then, a child for him. To him you were Toto’s little daughter and to you he was almost like an uncle.

As the years went by, you grew up, you went to study abroad where you ended up living, and Lewis continued to work with your dad and be in a close relationship as before. Everything was the same except you were no longer part of the fast world they lived in.

The media were interested in your life, they were eager to find out what Toto's daughter was doing, where she lived, who she was dating, they wanted to know anything, but you didn't give them any material.

For Toto and Susie's 13th wedding anniversary, you decided to surprise everyone and come to the celebration that the two of them organized for close friends and family in a beautiful villa in the south of Italy.

It's an understatement to say that you stole the show when you showed up. All grown up and beautiful, you have become a real woman. All eyes were on you since even your immediate family hadn't seen you in a while.

You looked like a real lady when you showed up in a light yellow floor length dress (with a slightly deeper neckline than your family would have liked but oh well) over your tanned skin with long curled golden hair that fell over your shoulders. You really were something to see.

“Dear family, dear friends, I would like to take a moment to thank you for being here with us” Toto said moving to hold the toast as he stood next to Susie with one arm wrapped around her. You were all sitting at the long big table waiting for dinner so your dad took the opportunity to thank everyone.

“Thank you for taking the time to celebrate our 13th wedding anniversary with us here in Italy. Susie and I appreciate and love you all very much and there is no one else we would rather share these moments of happiness with than all of you. I'm especially glad that my daughter y/n is with us today, since she's not so little anymore, so I can't force her to spend more time with me and Susie anymore or ground her for not being with us more often” You blush as everyone’s gaze settle on you for a moment and laughter rings through the room.

“And finally, I want to thank the most important person in my life for making me the happiest person in the world for so many years. My rock, my biggest support in everything always and forever, my beautiful wife. I just want you to know that I look forward to every new day with you, that you are my true happiness and that I don't know what I would do without you, and I don't even want to know. I love you and I look forward to being with you for the rest of my life. Happy wedding anniversary love.” As Toto finished his toast, Susie's eyes glazed over with tears at his touching words, and so did yours.

Everyone clapped as the two kissed. You were really happy for the two of them. You loved seeing them as happy and in love as they were the first day they met and you could only wish you could find someone to love you the way your dad loves Susie.

Oh, what you would give to hear someone talk about you like this in front of everyone. To show this much love for you, to show you off so proudly.

“I’m so happy that you’re here, y/n” Susie said giving you a hug after the dinner.

“I’m happy to be here with you too. I’m having a really good time so far, I think that from now on I want to be involved in these kinds of family gatherings a little more often.”

“Honey, we always invite you, but you rarely come..”

“I know, I know and I’m sorry about that. You know that I’ve been busy with myself for the last couple of years.”

“I do know. Everyone’s been asking about you though. They can't believe the woman you've grown into. Everyone remembers you as the little girl with braces who sat on her dad's lap in the garage.” Both of you laugh as you remember those days.

“If you had walked past me, I'm not sure I would have recognized you, y/n” Susie’s eyes shift on the talking figure behind you. You turn your head to the side only to see Lewis with his hands in his pockets standing behind you and admiring you.

“Lewis..hi” You smile at him offering him a hug which he gladly accepts.

“I’ll leave you two alone to catch up, it’s been a while” Susie says before disappearing to find her husband.

“How have you been, y/n? I always ask Toto about you, but I haven’t seen you in quite some time now.”

“Yeah, I’ve been a bit busy with life, but in a good way. I dedicated my time to working on myself and my career and enjoying myself as well, traveling the world and so on. I can't complain.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that you’re doing well. It’s crazy to me how much you’ve changed. You’re not a little girl anymore that I used to ask about school, you’re..a woman now.” You couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes were stuck on you. He was completely stunned by your beauty.

“Yeah, well I prefer to think that I’m more fun now than I was before no?” You wink at him making him laugh. “Anyway, what’s up with you? Heard you’re breaking up with my dad and going to Ferrari next year?”

“Yeah, well you know..It was not an easy decision to make, but the red car was one of my biggest wishes as a child, I think now is finally the time to fulfill it. If not now, when?"

"I understand although it's definitely gonna be hard to let you go." You tilt your head giving him a soft smile.

"I'm never gonna leave you guys." Lewis says. "I'll always be here, one way or another."

You spent the rest of the evening hanging out with friends and family, sharing stories from your life that they were happy to hear. Lewis spent most of his time around your dad, and you would glance at him every now and then only to catch him already secretly looking at you.

You haven't seen him live for a long time, of course, you've seen his pictures online, but you couldn't believe that he really still looks that good live despite his age.

When you were younger you didn't pay too much attention to him, you never looked at him in that way to think if he was hot or not. Especially because when you were younger he was in a long-term relationship with his girlfriend at the time, and after all, he's always been your dad's friend. But now, now that you are a little older, if you wanted to have someone by your side who is mature, who knows how to treat a woman, who is protective of you and who would take all the stars out of the sky, you know that Lewis would be the right choice for that.

What you expected even less was the knowledge that since Lewis saw you again after so many years, he hasn't stopped thinking about you for a second. He couldn't get you off his mind, and you found that out in a very unexpected way.

The next night you got dressed for another dinner and you wanted to ask Lewis to take a picture of you from the balcony of his room because his room had a better view of the sea than yours.

You stood in front of the door of his room and knocked and knocked, but he didn't open. At that moment, something did not give rest to your curiosity, so you let yourself into his room on your own.

You slowly scanned the room and saw that there were clothes on the bed prepared for tonight's dinner, and the door to the bathroom inside the room was closed. You moved a little closer to the door and leaned your head towards it and heard the water coming from the shower.

But that wasn't all you heard. The next word that came out of Lewis' mouth completely shocked you and made you gasp.

"Fuck, y/n.." You heard from the other side of the door.

The short whimpers, long-winded moans, the filthy sound coming from his mouth almost knocked you off your feet. You wanted to run away and pretend like you never heard this because you weren't supposed to hear it in the first place. But then you thought you had heard wrong and that he had said someone else's name because it couldn't possibly be true that Lewis was thinking about you this way. So you leaned your head back towards the door to try to hear something, anything again.

"Oh yes, just like that.." He groaned. "Just like that, y/n"

#f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x you #sir lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 smut #f1 one shot #f1 fluff #f1 imagine

379 notes · View notes

sehnsuchts-trunken · 6 months

Text

Twenty-Five Going on Forty-Seven

dbf!jake seresin x fem!reader 12k words (.....yes. 12k. i-)

summary: Flirting with the guy who fixed your car turns out to lead to much, much more when you find out he's actually not just some random guy, but your new neighbour and father's new best friend, Jake Seresin.

a/n: porn with plot. a lot of plot. and a lot of porn. 18+ obviously. reader is twenty-five in this, jake is forty-seven. this is entirely based on my new fixation on dbf!jake. i have so many thots. so many that they led to a 12k oneshot lmfao. anyway, as always, a list of things to watch out for:

pet names used in an unholy way, safe sex (i fucking managed to finally give them a condom whooooohoooo), oral sex for the both of them (yes i also wrote a blowjob. this is unbelievable i know), dom!jake, some praise kink, a smidge of strength kink at the end. a lot of begging. as always. mention of shower sex. mostly vanilla. jake fucks in missionary because he wants to be nice for his first time with her. if there's ever a sequel i swear to god he will be the most unholy fucker ever

top gun masterlist | dbf!jake seresin masterlist

The first time Jake meets you isn't the first time he's supposed to meet you. He's supposed to come by for dinner that evening, to finally get to know the daughter your parents have told him so much about. And it's not his fault that he meets you seven hours earlier that day. Not really.

Because the pictures your parents had kept showing him were all old. Mostly childhood photographs, some from your graduation, but none recent enough to connect the dots.

So it's really not his fault that he doesn't recognise you when he sees you standing there on the side of the road, phone clamped between your ear and shoulder, the hood of your car all the way up. With how wildly you're gesturing, Jake guesses that you're not particularly close to fixing whatever problem you have.

You're wary when he pulls up behind you and opens his door. It's rarely a good sign when random men prey on very obviously helpless and distressed young women. But Jake doesn't even get closer at first, just stands there in the opened car door and asks if you need any help. For a little moment, you debate whether it's worth the risk. Then your father's voice rings out from your phone and you decide that there's not much this guy could do to you in broad daylight on a well used street with your father on the phone.

So you tell him the truth. Yes, you most definitely have a problem. The way he makes sure it's okay for him to come over and take a look calms you even more. He's considerate and careful and maybe you're actually lucky and he's just a guy who genuinely wants to help.

He steps out from the door and walks up to you and honestly, for a moment there you're startled. He has to be in his forties, but damn, he's attractive. Suddenly you're glad you picked your sundress over your sweatpants this morning.

You let him lean over your car and take a closer look.

"If he can't help, I'll just come pick you up and we'll call a tow truck", your father says after you've filled him in on what's happening. Honestly, you'd really rather not have to call a tow truck though, because that's just going to cost you a bunch of money again, which isn't particularly the way you want to spend it.

Also, this guy leaning over your car - and you're not even denying that you're very much eyeing him up - seems like he actually knows what he's doing there.

He takes a minute or two before he comes up again. He's smiling, which you take as a good sign. He opens his mouth and you hear what he's saying - but because you have no clue what it is that he's trying to tell you, you just nod along. You're not a mechanic, you don't know the goddamn terminology. Something something battery, something something fuel pump, whatever. You take the time to notice his accent instead.

The good news is he thinks he can fix whatever he's found, but you'll still have to get it checked out later on.

He walks back to his own car, rummages around and comes back with a toolbox and an unopened water bottle.

"It might take a while", he tells you as he offers you the bottle. "Feel free to turn on my radio."

You take the waterbottle and bite down on your lip to keep from grinning. He's sweet. Goddamn. Because you've deemed the whole thing safe, you tell your father goodbye and hang up - you honestly just want a bit of privacy to stare at this hunk of a man who's bending over the hood of your car again and offering you a very... good look at his backside.

It's summer. He's wearing a wife pleaser, which is reasonable in these temperatures, but the sight of his forearms working almost makes you feel like he knows what he's doing by wearing it. Does he have a wife to please, though? He's old enough to have kids - your age, maybe a few years younger. He's about as old as your dad. If he has a wife, maybe he's wearing it for her. Maybe she likes the way his biceps flexes just like you do.

You squint at his hands as you uncap the water bottle and take a sip. There's no ring as far as you can see. Would it be entirely unreasonable to assume he's... single?

It's been a minute, maybe, when you decide it's probably awkward for you to stand there and watch him, so you go with his suggestion and lean into his car, palms bracing against the seat to reach for the radio.

You turn it on, switch through a few channels until you find one you like and turn the volume up. Because it's probably just as awkward if you stay in his car - if not bordering on creepy - you step around the opened door and settle yourself against the hood. Your thighs stick to the warmed metal, but that's something you're willing to deal with.

Your eyes cling to him as he works. You don't know what the hell he's doing, you just hope he knows and you're not left with an even worse problem after. But he doesn't seem like that type of guy. And since he's seemingly unmarried... You don't stop yourself from staring.

Fuck, maybe he has a girlfriend, not everyone gets married at thirty. Not everyone wears their wedding ring either. But a girl can dream, right? And you're dreaming, for just a few minutes. You allow yourself to dream.

He looks so good. He looks so fucking good.

Sandy-blond hair, cut short, but not too short, broad, broad, broad shoulders... those arms, that back.

When he straightenes and looks at you, greasy fingers and a triumphant grin on his lips, you also have to admit that he's got chiseled fucking features. You swallow hard and do your best to pretend you haven't been ogling him.

"All done", he says. You raise your eyebrows.

"Really? That quickly?"

He grins and takes a step back, offering you to take a look yourself. You bite back a smile and push off the hood of his car - your hips are swaying as you walk, yeah, but as far as you're aware, he's single and just fixed your car for you, for free, in less than fifteen minutes.

Also, he's hot.

"Looks no different to me", you admit. He lets out a chuckle.

"Try it", he says, reaches for the hood and pulls it down as you slip into the driver's seat. You look up to him through the windshield before you turn the key in the ignition and-

The car starts.

The fucking car starts.

He's actually managed it.

You turn the key back and shake your head in disbelief. If he hadn't accidentally stumbled upon you, you'd probably have had to call the tow truck by now. Instead, you reach for the glove compartment and grab your purse.

"How-", you start as you climb out of the car seat again, shutting the door behind you. "How the hell?"

He chuckles.

"Actually, don't tell me", you interrupt yourself, throwing your hands up. "I don't even want to know. Here."

You reach into your purse and pull out disinfection wipes, offering them to him. He takes one with a smile and a drawled thanks and cleans off the grease on his hands before folding it up and letting it disappear into his pocket.

"So you're my knight in shining armour today", you say, biting down on your lip. Fuck it. You're gonna find out here and now whether or not he's single. "Otherwise I'm sure the tow truck would've cost me a hundred bucks - at least."

"Yeah, probably", he agrees, his eyes dropping to your mouth for just a second.

"Well, then", you smile, as coyly as you can manage. "How can I thank you?"

And just as you hoped, he stills, taking you in - maybe for the first time, you're not sure. His eyes rake down your body, your cleavage, your waist, your legs. His lips tug into a grin, but when he looks back up at you, he's serious.

"No worries", he tells you. "I'm not the tow truck."

He's not pushing you. Actually, he's doing the opposite, and you're not a fan. Maybe he isn't single after all. Maybe he does have a girlfriend. Or a wife. Or maybe he's not interested. Maybe... but you can give it a try, right? Just one try.

"I can't just drive off", you argue, blinking up at him a little more, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Fuck, are you really doing this? Your breath catches for a moment. But then again, if he isn't single, you're just gonna get into your car and never see him again. So who cares? "How about I give you my number?"

Your heartbeat quickens as he looks at you and straightens up. He's still grinning. You can't quite figure him out.

"I'm forty-seven, darling", he chuckles. You try your hardest to ignore how that pet name sounds, all sweet and intimate and god, you'd do a lot to have him say it again.

"So?", you ask and raise an eyebrow. "Does that mean you don't have a phone?"

Jake shakes his head with a chuckle, but you keep looking up at him so seductively, keep smiling so flirtatiously that he can't help himself. You're wearing such a pretty dress, such a dainty necklace around your throat. And you're serious about this.

He's had younger women flirt with him, yes, but usually five, ten years younger at most - and even that's been a while, because he isn't going to bars every night anymore.

You're really young. You're too young. You're, what, twenty-six? You can't be much older.

But you're stunning. Gorgeous eyes, kissable lips, glossy and plush and for just a moment, Jake loses himself in the images his mind seems to produce immediately when he looks at you - has been, from the second he'd spotted you through his windshield.

He's old enough to know better. But he still reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his phone.

...

The first time Jake officially meets you is seven hours later when he knocks on your parents' door and takes a step back to wait for it to open.

"That's gotta be Jake, someone get the door!", your mother's voice calls out, and it takes a few seconds until he hears soft footsteps coming down the hallway.

Then the door cracks open.

And there stands-

You.

You're smiling widely for the entirety of two seconds. Then your face falls.

Jake feels like the rug is pulled out from under his feet. He tumbles deep down a dark, dark hole as he stares at your pretty eyes, all shocked and wide, mouth open.

"You", you let out, almost breathless.

"You", Jake echoes, in quite the same tone.

Within seconds, you're stepping out onto the porch, closing the door behind you and holding out your hand in front of you, as if to keep him a safe distance away.

You're quick, almost stumbling over your own words as you come to conclusions and try to grasp all their consequences. Jake has a hard time even listening to you. He's frozen in his spot, barely comprehending the entire situation.

The young woman that had so unashamedly flirted with him this morning - that he had most definitely flirted back with - is his neighbour's daughter. His friend's daughter.

So he's fucking frozen in spot, yes.

He's frozen even as you're ushering him into the house with a smile on your lips that's just a bit too wide. He's frozen as he sits down at the dinner table and frozen as your mother offers him a beer. He's frozen as he settles on the couch after and as your father turns on a football game. He's frozen as you scoff at the tv and disappear up the stairs.

Your father asks him what's wrong, but there's no way Jake can tell him.

Even without your lecture on the porch, there would've been no way he would have admitted that he's got your number saved in his phone, "Twenty-five" with a winky face emoji behind it.

So he says he hasn't been all that well - maybe getting the flu or something.

Which is bullshit. He doesn't get sick. He's been sick two, maybe three times in all his life.

But he does think he'll be sick when you take your last step down the stairs half an hour later, in pajamas that barely cover anything - satin or something, he's too focused not focusing on your bare skin to notice anything except your bare skin, really. You just traipse over to the kitchen on tiptoes, eyes glued to your phone, hushed voices reaching his ears when you talk to your mother before you reappear in the living room.

"I'm going to bed", you announce, phone clutched tightly in your hands. "It's been a long day."

Jake can't hear your father's answer. He can't hear the commentator or the cheers from the tv. He can't hear anything, not when you're standing there in the doorway, when he's concentrating so fucking hard on not looking at you.

He fails miserably.

His eyes rake down your body so scorchingly hot that they burn holes into your skin. You have to swallow hard at his expression.

You're not tired at all, actually. Yes, it's been a long day, but if anything, you're buzzing with adrenaline. Which is worse. Because the entire dinner long, you've just had to sit there and stare at him and not do anything about it.

So you're aching to finally hide away in your room, to crawl into bed and contemplate what the fuck is happening. And, just maybe, to dip your fingers into your pajama shorts and think about his shoulders, his arms, his jawline...

Jake manages to grunt some kind of 'goodnight' before you flee - but he doesn't manage to drag his eyes back up from your stomach, all exposed and on display for him. And he doesn't manage to hide it from you.

...

He sees you often over the following weeks. He's been over at your parents' house almost every day for the past six months anyway, and that doesn't change just because you've come back home. Your father still invites him for football games, your mother still talks him into coming over for lunch or for dinner or both and whenever they're outside tinkering on something, he's being called to help.

And - because of course, it's your house as well - you're there, too.

All around him, all the time.

At first, it's innocent. You walk into the kitchen to get a glass of water and smile and say hello. You sit on the couch on a call with a friend and wave at him through the window. You come back from a walk with the dog and ask how he's doing before you disappear inside.

But then there come moments... Moments in which you lie down on a sun lounger in a skimpy bikini while he's painting the fence with your father, sunglasses high on your nose, a book in your hands, rubbing sunscreen into your skin and biting your lip when he can't help but look at you. Moments in which you brush up against him in the kitchen with a giggled 'Sorry', your mother's back turned to you as she grabs milk from the fridge, his fists clenching at his sides, his coffee cup held decently in front of his crotch. Moments in which you sit next to him on the couch and have to lean over him with a lengthy apology, your father just disappearing into the bathroom, your palm high enough on his thigh to stagger into the inappropriate.

The only time he's safe is at work. And even then, you're on his mind constantly.

Those pretty dresses you wear all the time, low-cut in the front and so short they hardly reach past your mid-thighs, in all colours of the rainbow. Those skimpy tops with the flowers on them and jeans-shorts or skirts he's more than once noticed are actually skorts.

He shouldn't be attracted to you. It's so wrong on so many levels. You're too young, much too young, twenty-two years younger than him. And - worse - he's best friends with your father.

He can't be attracted to his best friend's daughter. He simply can't.

It's wrong. It's so, so wrong.

But he can't help himself. He can't help himself when you brush up against him, when you touch him, when you look like that right in front of him.

He doesn't know how he survives those first weeks. He doesn't feel like he's alive, really. Every waking thought is of you - of you and of how wrong it is that he can't stop thinking about you. That he keeps imagining what it would be like to hold you, to kiss you, to-

No.

No, he can't.

Even though you're making it practically impossible for him.

And it's not like you really know what you're doing either. But ever since the car incident that very first day back home, you've been picturing those arms, those shoulders - and after the first time you caught sight of him working shirtless on some project in the backyard with your father, those fucking abs. All glistening, sweaty skin, that v-line, that happy trail...

It's not your fault he's starring in all of your late night fantasies now. It's his. It's his because he shouldn't be allowed to look that fucking good, to smell and sound and feel that good, when you can't have him. Because of course you can't.

He's twenty-two years older than you. He's your dad's new best friend.

You can't.

You can't flirt with him like you want to, you can't have him, because it would be wrong. But you also can't not.

You don't mean to taunt him, not at first. At first, it's just instincts. Talk to him, get his attention. But the more you're around him... the less you can control yourself.

You want to then. You want to graze your fingers across his thigh when your father isn't looking, you want to suck the straw of your drink into your mouth while you blink up at him, you want to accidentally drop your spoon and bend over in front of him. You want to because you know he wants you to.

Even though he doesn't say it, even though he forces himself to turn away when you walk by him, you see the way he looks at you. You catch him staring, you catch him eyeing you up and down. You notice the tick in his jaw and the way his fists clench at his sides. You watch his knuckles turn white as he grabs the neck of his beer bottle and takes a deep sip.

You know he's most definitely attracted to you.

Because even if you imagine half of those things - there's still the car incident. There's still your number saved in his phone. There's still 'darling' on your mind. Mostly the way he's repeated it since then, two or three times maybe, each one inspiring more sinful bedtime scenarios.

You can't.

He can't.

And yet neither of you doesn't.

...

Your parents are away when it happens. Your dad has to go on a trip for work and he takes your mother with him, surprises her with an extra weekend of romance just for the two of them. They're gone by Wednesday morning and won't be back until Sunday afternoon and even though you're twenty-five and have experience living on your own, they've asked Jake to check in on you, just to make sure you're okay.

The first time he 'checks in on you' is involuntary. He's just come back from work, it's Wednesday, 3pm, and he's sitting down on his back porch with a beer when he spots you.

He really doesn't mean to. He hadn't even known you were there.

But the fence between your house and his isn't high and so it's only natural that his eyes flick over to your garden once.

And then twice.

Because you're climbing out of the pool in the tiniest black bikini Jake has ever seen in his life, looking like some angelic, biblic, ancient goddess - your hair in a messy bun, droplets of water running down your bare skin, muscles working as you pull yourself up the little ladder and put both feet against solid, dry ground, leaving wet footprints with every step you take until you grab your towel, sling it around your shoulders and-

Look right at him.

Your lips tug into a flirty grin. You wave at him, your hand lingering in the air a second too long before you wrap the towel tightly around yourself and tread towards the fence. Jake can't do anything but watch you go and swallow hard.

The other option would probably be to drag you into his arms and ravage you until your throat is sore from screaming his name.

So he just sits there and stares at you instead.

"Hey there", you greet as soon as you're close enough to the fence that he can't look past your belly button anymore.

"Hey", Jake says and for whatever reason, his voice sounds raspy even to himself. Your grin only deepens.

"Do you have plans for dinner yet?", you ask. You bat your lashes at him innocently as you dry off your arms. "I was going to order take out."

So that's why three hours later, Jake rings your doorbell, in a black button up he spent twenty minutes picking out. The last time he'd spent that long in front of the closet, he'd been about fifteen years younger and about to go on an actual date. This isn't an actual date. This is anything but a date, because he's only supposed to check in on his best friend's daughter. He's supposed to look after you. Keep you safe.

But you open the door in an oversized, washed out band tee and smile so stunningly that he forgets what he's supposed to do in about half a second.

There's a moment of silence as Jake stares at you. He knows that damn band tee.

"Is that... mine?", he asks in disbelief as he waits for the sight to sink in, which it does not do. His mind blanks completely. It's not just that it's oversized and that you look like you're drowning in it, which already has him imagining the way he could flatten his palms against your stomach and feel for you in that heap of fabric. It's also that he knows this fucking shirt because he's been wearing it for the past ten years.

You look down like you're just realising what you have on, not like you'd almost had a heart attack when you'd seen it in the laundry basket, squealing so loudly that your mother had come in to check on you. Jake had worn that shirt the same day and apparently forgotten to put it back on when he'd gone home, so your mother had put it in the laundry.

She hadn't realised that you'd stolen it for yourself before she could wash it. She probably hadn't paid it that much attention.

You had though. And tonight had felt like the perfect occasion to wear it.

"I found it in the laundry", you say truthfully, looking up at him with big eyes. "Dad said it wasn't his so I just took it. Maybe a mix up. Do you want it back?"

Your fingers reach for the hem of the shirt down by your thighs, tugging mindlessly up just a tiny bit. Jake almost stumbles over his own words with how quick he is in denying you.

"No, no, keep it", he reassures. "Keep it."

You let go of the shirt as your grin widens.

"Okay then", you say softly, turn around and leave the door open so Jake can get in. You stroll into the kitchen, crack open the fridge and grab the freshly made iced tea while Jake closes the door behind him and puts away his shoes.

It could have easily been awkward. Honestly, Jake isn't sure that it's not. But it doesn't feel like that. It just feels... heavy. Drowsy. As though you're moving in slow motion, looking at him over your shoulder with a sultry grin. And in his shirt as well. His fucking shirt, it's unbelievable.

You're smiling at him over Chinese take out food with the radio playing softly in the background and the dim kitchen light on and it could have been almost normal, almost nothing, almost just a friendly dinner with his best friend's daughter.

But it isn't.

It isn't because you're leaning over the table and stealing a spring roll from him, grinning at him when he starts to protest. It isn't because you're pushing him back down onto his chair when he wants to get up and help you clear the table, leaning most definitely too close to him to grab his plate and bending most definitely too far down to put it into the dishwasher. It isn't because you're opening a bottle of whiskey, pouring him one and only then asking if he's going to stay and watch a movie with you.

You've already poured him the drink.

Not that he'd been planning to say no.

You're not close to him on the couch, not really. You're a respectful distance away as you put your own drink onto the table in front of you and grab the remote. You're still a respectful distance away as you scroll through a bunch of movies and ask him if he's got any preferences - besides football, of course.

But when you decide on a movie, on one of those rom-coms he'd never watch willingly, you're draping your legs over his and brushing your hair away from your face and he has to swallow hard.

His hands drop to your bare skin almost instinctively. He can't keep them off of you, not when you're this close to him, not when you're offering so prettily. It's like he has to touch you, has to brush his thumbs across your ankles.

This could all be normal. This could all be usual.

Jake doesn't bother paying attention to the movie. It's not like he could possibly pay attention to it, not when his fingers are running up and down your soft skin. So he doesn't really mind that he misses their first kiss, even as you look up from the drink you're refilling with a gasp and wide eyes to watch.

Jake just watches the way your hair frames your face, those droplets of iced tea on your lips before you wipe them off. He's sure he could taste them if he tried to.

You lean back into the couch then and stretch and your shirt - Jake's shirt - rides so far up that he catches sight of your underwear. Fuck.

He has to grab onto you hard so that he doesn't launch himself right on top of you. His mouth is dry all of a sudden, so dry that he has to swallow. You blink up at him as you feel his hands clench around your ankles, your teeth digging into your bottom lip to keep from grinning.

He needs a few seconds to even look up at you. It's like his eyes are glued to that expanse of bare skin at your hip, clinging to the thought of you in your underwear right before him. You're always wearing shorts. You're always wearing shorts. You're always fucking wearing shorts.

Shit.

He shouldn't. He can't.

But his hands brush up your calves and he does look back at you then, which really isn't better, because your lip is still caught between your teeth and your expression is so sinful that he has to bite down on his own tongue.

"Jake", you breathe, all soft and quiet and that's it. That's his breaking point.

You can't just say his fucking name like that, not in his shirt, not while presenting him such a good look at your underwear, and expect him to be okay.

"Fuck", he mutters, then he's on you.

It's an uncomfortable position. You're half turned to him, half away, your legs are still thrown over his lap, which means he can't really push close to you, but his lips are against yours, so firmly, so passionately that you can't care, not right then.

Your eyes fall shut and you kiss him back with the same fervor, the same heat, the same fucking desperation to finally feel him. You part you lips almost too eagerly, too quickly, just so he can stroke his tongue along yours. His hands dig into your thighs, grabbing you tightly, and your arms cross behind his neck to drag him down to you - just that your legs are really in the way now and you have to try and pry one from his lap so that he doesn't crush it, which isn't all that comfortable and takes a while too long to still be sexy. You hardly mind. Jake doesn't either, only pulls his knees up to the couch to climb on top of you.

The whole thing is complicated and annoying and decidedly too time consuming, but his lips are on yours and he's pressing against you, catching himself with a palm against the couch cushions and lowering you to lie down, every single touch frenzied and hurried and hot. Heady and heavy and horny.

You're dragging your hands through his hair, tugging, pulling, scratching your nails across his scalp. He's grabbing your hips with his free hand, grasping your thighs, tangling his fingers in your shirt and digging them into your skin.

You're grinding against him. Not softly, not carefully, not secretly. You're wrapping your legs around him and grinding against him, almost without realising it - you need to be close, you need to be closer. You need to move. You need to feel him.

At the first moan you let out, Jake stills. When you breathily add his name, he pulls back entirely.

It's cold and empty without him, cold and empty and confusing as he settles back on his ankles, panting and wide-eyed. Your arms and legs drop to the couch as you try to catch your breath.

"No", Jake mutters. "We can't."

You push yourself up onto your palms, chest still heaving as you look up at him. Your cheeks feel so hot that you're sure they're embarrassingly red by now and your mind is still hazy with what just happened -

Jake had kissed you. He'd kissed you and you'd kissed him back.

And now he isn't kissing you anymore and you're absolutely not alright with that. You need him to kiss you again. You need to dig your hands into his hair and feel him knead your thighs again. You need to find out what it's like to rake your nails along his arms and scratch down his back.

"Jake", you breathe, staring at him all wide-eyed as he shakes his head and inches even further away from you. He seems like he's in a trance. You repeat his name more forcefully and reach out for him - but he only shakes his head again and runs a hand down his face.

You still for the entirety of two seconds. Then you sit up, inches closer to him than necessary, and toy with the hem of your shirt. You've got a hunch that giving and taking the sight of your underwear will only help your case here.

"Why not?", you ask as you watch his eyes drop down, just like you'd wanted. His breath catches.

"You're twenty-five", he begins, his voice a bit too rough to sound unaffected. "And I'm friends with your father."

You take a long look at him.

"Would you if you weren't friends with my father?"

You bite down on your lip and blink up at him as prettily as you can manage. You're quite sure you know the answer. Especially with that car incident... With your number saved in his phone. With that smug grin you still see in your fantasies.

He hadn't been too concerned with your age back then.

"I am friends with your father", Jake says, all the while struggling to drag his eyes back up your body.

"But if you weren't", you go on, not ready just yet to leave this be - because you know that if you back down now, you'll never get a chance again. Not like this. Not with him. "If you weren't friends with my father. Would you?"

A muscle ticks in his jaw. You hold your breath - one, two, three seconds. Then he's on you yet again and this time, this time with no end in sight. Not as he pushes you back down onto the couch and sets both his palms down next to your head. Not as you wrap your legs around his waist and work the buttons of his shirt, fingers moving so frantically that you slip up more than once - not that you care.

You're kissing Jake. After what has felt like an eternity of teasing and quietly flirting, you're finally kissing him, touching him, feeling him. On top of you, all around you.

Yes, he fucking would. You were right.

His shirt finally unbuttons and you can hardly push it out of the way quickly enough to run your hands down his chest - exploring his collarbones, his abs, that fucking happy trail that has been driving you insane ever since you saw it for the first time. Your fingers brush bare skin, warm, hot, bare skin, before they catch on his waistband. He grinds his hips onto yours as you draw your fingertips along his belt and swallows the moan you so pathetically let out.

You're just about to get to work on opening his belt buckle when he shifts his weight onto one hand and grasps your wrist with the other, pulling an inch away from you as he does so, lips parting in sticky intoxication.

"Jake", you mewl, but when you blink open your eyes he's already shaking his head softly and- grinning. Grinning that smug grin that you've been dreaming of. The one you haven't seen since the very first time you met him. Not with your dad around or directed at anyone else, no. The grin that takes your breath away right then, and you can't even tell why.

It's confident and cocky and cheeky and so, so very, very sexy. Fuck.

You stare at him with wide eyes and parted lips, too caught up in taking him in to notice how he's bringing both your hands up over your head.

"If we're doing this, I'm doing it right, darling", he mutters, all low and rough and the pet name has you clamping your thighs even harder around him. "And only if you want me to."

You can't nod quickly enough.

"I need you to tell me, baby", he grins, exposing those pearly whites that you'd very much like to feel biting into your neck or something. "I need you to say yes."

"Yes, Jake", you push past your lips, breathless and panting and desperate. Desperate for him. "Please."

His chuckle reverberates in your own chest. He runs his hand down your side and rubs a soft circle against the bare skin of your hip, catching on the flimsy fabric of your underwear.

"Already begging for me", he mutters with a grin, his fingers hooking into your waistband. Your hips buck up into his and a moan drops from your lips and Jake just keeps on grinning. Keeps on running his thumbs along your hip bones. "That easily."

You can't even deny it, deny him. You need him to touch you and you need him to do it now.

"You're lucky I want to taste you, because I'm sure it'd be fun to tease you", he chuckles, holds you down against the couch as he sits back on his ankles, keeping your legs spread and the dark spot on your underwear right on display for him. "I could keep you here all night."

You're not sure what excites you more - the promise of all night or the tasting you part. Either way, you bury your hands into your own hair and tug hard to keep yourself from sitting up, pushing him onto his back and riding him into oblivion. He wouldn't let you anyway, you're guessing.

Jake runs his free hand down the inside of your thigh and you really have to concentrate on not moving then. Every touch, every brush and every stroke sends shivers down your spine and pools in your core, heating up each inch of your skin.

When he reaches your underwear once more, he hooks his second thumb into it as well and tugs. Your jaw clenches. God, you've gotta keep still, you've just gotta wait-

He looks up then and raises his eyebrows.

"Please, Jake", you breathe, before he can even say anything. His eyes drop again and he pulls your underwear down, down, down, pushing your knees together to slide them off your legs and you're holding your breath, holding your breath in this intoxicating mess of a moment as he parts your thighs again and leans in. Leans closer.

Leans... not close enough.

Instead, he grabs the hem of your shirt.

"As much as I like that you're wearing my shirt", he mutters, already pushing it up and exposing your stomach to him, "I want to see you."

You let out a pathetic little moan, loosen your hands from your hair and pull his shirt over your head instead, dropping it down onto the floor without looking or bothering where it lands. You're not really bothered about anything besides getting Jake's mouth on you right now.

You're dripping already, dripping down your own thighs as he takes you in - all naked, all bare in front of him, soft skin and smooth curves, chest rising and falling with your heavy breath, eyes half-closed, lips parted and kiss-swollen.

It's wrong. He shouldn't. But he's already gone too far and now, now, with all of you for him to see, to touch, to feel, he can't go back. He can't ever go back.

He wants to burn this image into his memory forever.

"Jake", you whisper, voice just as soft and silky as the rest of you and he snaps out of his trance, runs his fingertips over your stomach, studies you as your breath catches. He leans down again, but his eyes are fixed on you still, focused even as he presses a kiss to your hipbone, then to the inside of your thigh. His teeth graze your skin and his fingers brush against the underside of your boobs.

Fuck.

You bite down on your lip.

Jake thinks he might be in heaven as he palms at your breasts, swiping his thumbs across your nipples and watching your expression change ever so slightly. He breathes against your wetness and his eyes flicker down to finally look at you, dripping for him. His fingers still for just a moment.

If he does this, there's no going back. He's crossing a line that he can never uncross.

But in all honesty - he's already long crossed that line.

So he flattens his tongue against you and tastes you. And you throw you head back and let out a moan that's so filthy that he can't even be bothered to care about what fucking lines he's crossing anymore. He just buries his face in your wetness and basks in the way your eyes roll back into your head.

Your hands dig into his hair all by themselves, tug and pull and push him closer, further into you. You taste heavenly. You are in heaven. You're in heaven with Jake between your legs, brushing his tongue through your folds, sucking your clit into his mouth and groaning into you. He's running his fingers over your breasts, palming and grasping at them, circling and tracing.

That's when the movie stops.

You hadn't even realised it was still on, to be honest, but now, in the silence, your moans echo three times as loud. Jake bathes in the sounds you're letting out. You're absolutely gorgeous like that, teeth tugging at your bottom lip, cheeks flushed, eyes fluttering closed before you blink them open again to look at him, to watch him as he lays between your thighs.

You're soaking in the way he swipes his tongue against you, the way he palms at your skin. With every touch and every brush, you can feel the knot tightening. Can feel the tension in your limbs growing. Can feel the way your legs are starting to clamp tighter, tighter and tighter around Jake's head.

He's so good at this. He's so fucking good at this.

Your grip on his hair tightens so much that you're sure you have to be hurting him, but he doesn't show the slightest hint of wanting to tell you off for it. No, quite the opposite: he pushes further into you and groans his approval.

Which is about the last thing you can take.

Your legs cramp, your hands drag at his hair, your back arches, your head hits the armrest of the couch and Jake guides you through your high, eyes set on you, focused and fixed on you, watching every single reaction you have to him, drinking in the sight of you, drinking in your moans. You're pushing back against him, panting and clawing at him, lips parted and eyes shut tightly as you take in a shaky breath and sink slowly back against the couch.

The air is heavy. Heavy with your emotions, heavy with your orgasm, heavy with your moans.

Jake pulls back slowly, softly, draws his hands down to your stomach to rub circles onto your skin - significantly warmer now than before. You're still breathing heavily, legs unhooking from around his head only reluctantly. Honestly, you wouldn't have minded if he'd just decided to stay down there for the next three to five business days. But you also don't mind as he pushes himself up and presses a kiss to your lips, because he tastes like you and you get to hook your arms around his neck and pull him even further down onto you.

With his half-bare chest pushed against yours, his tongue runs along your lips and you open willingly up to him. More than just willingly. Because with him on top of you, his lips sticky and syrupy on yours, not wanting or not able to part from yours, there's already anticipation running in your veins, wetness pooling in your core again, the urge to wrap your legs around him and grind against him growing and growing with every second that he's kissing you.

You draw your hands down his throat, push his shirt out of the way and brush your palms down his bare torso, all hard abs against your fingertips. He's in such good fucking shape you could truly be running your hands up and down a washboard right now. It feels unfair that he's more than twenty years older than you and somehow fitter.

Your fingers catch on his waistband then.

"Jake", you whine softly against him. "Please, I need you."

He groans, drops his head down to your neck and for a second, you just hear him breathe - all hot and heavy before his lips graze your skin.

"Fuck, you can't say that, darling", he mutters. "You don't know what you do to me."

His belt buckle feels cold against your fingertips, so cold against your sticky, sweaty skin.

"Show me", you whine, beg, plead. He's not teasing you, not taking his time, he's not waiting or edging or anything, and still- Still, you're so fucking desperate. He's finally got you here, finally, and as much as you're sure you'd enjoy his teasing... You just need him to fuck you. Now.

Jake chuckles breathily as he raises his head to look down at you. There's that grin again. That fucking grin.

Then he plants that grin onto your lips and you moan softly, hooking your fingers into his belt and pulling hard. You've just started loosening it successfully when he sits back onto his ankles, leaves you cold and lonely and fully naked on the couch. You mewl.

"Jake-", you let out, but he's already standing up, climbing off of the couch and you're sitting up as if in trance, just to follow him, whatever it is that he has in mind.

He slips off his shoes before he starts to work his belt and then lets that fall to the ground too. You reach for him instinctively, drawing your fingertips along his thighs as he pops the button of his jeans and pulls down his zipper, but when he hooks his thumbs beneath his waistband and tugs down, something snaps inside of you.

"Wait", you whisper. "Let me."

You reach out for him and graze your fingers along his waistband, taking a breath as your eyes flutter up at him. He swallows hard, lets his arms drop to his sides and nods heavily. God, he looks so fucking attractive. His hair all messy, his jaw clenched, his eyes fixed solely on you. You make sure to work quickly, almost frenzied, hurriedly pulling down his jeans and taking his briefs right with them. You won't spend unnecessary time on unimportant things.

Your breath catches, palms stilling against his thighs.

Fuck.

Jake's hand twitches, then clenches into a fist. But he stays right where he is, doesn't move an inch. Everything in him screams at him to run his fingers through your hair and guide you closer to him - but he doesn't. He won't. Not tonight, not right now. Right now, he wants to give you every out he can. Just in case you want to take it.

You don't. Of course not.

Not when you can see just how much he's holding himself back.

So instead you lean down and kitten-lick his tip. His hand flexes, again, and even though he lets out a deep groan that will surely echo in your head for the next two weeks, he stays still.

You just wrap your fingers around the base of his cock and take him into your mouth.

He has to close his eyes and tilt his head up to keep from bucking into you. Damn, it hasn't even been that long since he got blown. And he didn't react like a teenager then. But something about your warm, wet mouth, something about the way your dainty fingers reach around him, something about how you eagerly take him so far that he hits the back of your throat, something about that soft little gagging noise you make just before you pull off of him to breathe in deeply-

Fuck, you're making this really hard for him.

"Jake", you mutter, your hand still working him. He opens his eyes and looks down at you, looks down at you sitting there on the couch, completely naked, eyes all wide and cheeks flushed and so fucking stunning. His fingers brush along your forehead, tuck a strand of loose hair behind your ear.

"Jake", you repeat, a little more breathlessly this time. "Don't hold back for me. I won't break."

His jaw clenches again, but you just blink up at him, the weight of your words heavy between you. His eyes roam your face for any sign of uncertainty - then he nods. He'd like to disagree, though. He's more than afraid he'll break you.

You're so young, so sweet, so fragile.

Just not innocent. And you feel like you have to remind him of that - of your more than obvious flirting, of your sultry grins and half-naked hints, of your number sitting so unashamedly in his contacts.

So you lean in again, pull your free hand from his thigh and grab his wrist instead, dragging it away from your cheek and planting it on the back of your head as you wrap your lips around him. He takes a shallow breath and your hand drops back down to his thigh. There's one, two seconds in which your eyes just flutter closed and your nails dig into his skin-

Then, finally, fucking finally! Jake tangles his fingers into your hair and pushes you into him. You loosen your hand from around him and put it against his other thigh, allowing him to pull you closer and closer. You breathe deeply through your nose as Jake groans above you - and it takes everything in you not to grin. Instead, you just let him guide you, blink open your eyes to look at him and try to ignore the arousal dripping down the inside of your thighs. He looks so fucking good, it should truly be forbidden, because now you have to press your legs together and steady your palms against him.

Jake feels about the same. His breathing is heavy, his grip on your hair firm, and his eyes are set on you - on how he disappears inside your mouth, again and again, your spit coating him, your throat tight. He can't help but push you down, one time, two times, and pull you back, three times, four times, then push you down and pull you back again. And again. And again. He can hardly concentrate on how good you're making him feel when you're looking that fucking sinful.

Shit.

Before he can come right then and there in your mouth, he tugs you off fully, his jaw clenching involuntarily at the soft whine you let slip. But you can barely be truly bothered when he leans down and presses his lips to yours instead. You're not bothered about anything, really - about anything but his tongue against yours as you cross your arms behind his neck and draw him in, your hands dragging into his hair, your mouth moving desperately against his, sloppily, silently begging him for more.

Jake steadies his palms against the back rest and pulls away heavily, breathing hard as you open your eyes again to look at him - half-lidded, all languid and slow. He swallows hard.

"Do you-", he starts, his voice low and rough and you nod, letting your arms drop from around him to point at the side table.

Have a condom, he'd wanted to ask. In any other situation, he'd have one himself, but something about bringing condoms for a check in on his best friends daughter would have felt incredibly wrong.

"In my makeup bag", you say, your voice thin and breathy as he stretches and reaches for the lavender coloured pouch, unzipping it and looking for the condoms between all the brushes and lipglosses. He can barely pull one out before your fingers close around it, before you've carefully torn it open. He drops your makeup bag back onto the side table right as you straighten up to press a kiss to his lips - almost innocent, almost, if it weren't for the taste of him on your tongue. Then you press a kiss onto his collarbone. Then one right onto his abs. Then one just above that happy trail that has been driving you fucking insane. And then, then, you run your tongue over his tip again before you roll the condom onto him.

Which means it's his turn.

And he doesn't hesitate.

He's not rough in the way he pushes you onto your back on the couch, no, he's smooth with it, hands running along your skin as he cages you in, as he rests his arms next to your head - but he's firm nonetheless. He takes control easily, moving you how and where he wants to, claiming your mouth, pressing his lips to yours. You let him. More even, you relish in giving in to him, in giving him control, in letting go, in trusting him. You bathe in his kisses, in his touches, in his soft grunts as he guides himself into you.

"Jake", you whine against his lips, your fingers tangling in his hair, eyes falling shut. The stretch is delicious, heavenly. He fills you slowly, dragging his lips down your throat as you tilt your head back and let out a filthy moan. Your legs wrap around him, pull him closer. His teeth graze your neck, drawing a moan from you as he settles. He gives you a moment to adjust.

A moment too long.

Way too long.

Even with his lips on your skin, with your nails dragging down his neck, digging into his shoulders, even with him inside of you, you need more. You need him to move. Right fucking now.

"Jake", you mewl, your eyes fluttering open. He raises his head to look at you and- Fuck, good lord. You've messed up his hair and his pupils are wide and his cheeks are red and he looks fucking heavenly. So heavenly that your breath catches. You forget what you wanted to say for a moment. Then his thumb brushes your cheek and you remember.

"Move", you breathe, digging your fingers into his skin and wrapping your legs around him tightly. You need him to move. But his lips tug up in that grin again and, as quickly as you can, you add- "Please, Jake."

His grin widens as he looks down at you, all pretty and desperate, clenching around him, lips parting in a silent moan. It would be so easy to tease you, so easy to make you beg and plead for him... And you'd look so gorgeous doing it. You're already so eager to please him.

But not tonight. Not right now. Right now, he just needs to make you feel good. So he leans down, presses a kiss to your lips and moves. Finally.

You open up to him eagerly, letting him run his tongue along yours, moaning into him as he thrusts into you. Deep and languid, hitting all the right spots like no one has before. Fuck, fuck, fuck-

You're really doing this. He's really doing this. You claw at his back, scratch down his skin, sure to leave bruises as he pulls his head up to look at you, to watch the way you arch up into him. Your skin glistens with sweat, your lips part to let out a breathy mewl and the coil in your stomach tightens, tightens, tightens.

Jake shifts his weight onto one arm, frees a hand to brush his fingers through your hair, tugging, tilting your head back, exposing your throat to him. You moan at the ceiling as he drops a filthy kiss onto your collarbone before he lets go of your hair again, trailing his hand down your side instead - and his hand is so fucking big, so big as he draws it down your body, brushing his fingertips over your boob, sweeping over your hip, grasping your thigh. You pull him down onto you, crash your lips back onto his hard. You need to feel him, you need to kiss him, you need to hold him right now. You need him. You need this.

He smoothes his fingers down your skin until they catch on your clit.

"Jake", you moan into his mouth, pathetic even to your own ears. He only grins into the kiss and circles your clit as he thrusts into you, again and again and again, your legs clenching harder and harder and harder around him before he pulls away, pulls even further away even though you chase after his lips, his eyes roaming your face as you squeeze yours shut tightly.

"Look at me, darling", he drawls, his voice low and raspy, his fingers rough against your clit. "Look at me when I'm fucking you."

You let out some kind of deranged moan at his crude wording, opening your eyes and blinking up at him because there's no fucking way you can deny him. Not when he calls you darling like that. Not when he thrusts inside you just right. Not when the view of him, messy hair and grinning and all, has you clenching around him this hard.

You're close. So close.

"Atta girl", he mutters, and that does it for you.

Your legs cramp and your lips part again to let out a gorgeous little moan that Jake swallows up immediately, slotting his mouth over yours and drinking up the way you clench around him. It takes everything in him not to come too. You're so fucking pretty and you're clenching so fucking perfectly around him, but he needs to make you feel good first, he needs to make you come first, he needs...

"Jake", you mewl, face scrunched up, back arched, as he guides you through your second high of the night. "Fuck, fuck."

He's grinning when you come down. You grab his hand and pull it away from your clit. It's too much right now, too much. It takes a second for you to even realise that he's stopped moving entirely, too focused on watching you, on drinking up the sight of you, tousled hair and red cheeks and parted lips and all. You look like an angel, so fucking heavenly that he can't believe his eyes, not really.

"Jake", you mutter, slurring his name so prettily and pulling him in for another kiss, your arms loose around his neck, your fingers lazily brushing through his hair. "Come for me?"

It's barely more than a breath, barely more than a whisper onto his lips, but he hears it, oh, he hears it. He lets out a groan as he draws away again, his eyes roaming your face. You're unbelievable. Fucking unbelievable.

You're asking him to come for you. Begging him to come for you.

And there's no grin in sight, no smug smile, no hint of trying to take control of him - it's not a command, not even close, you're actually, genuinely pleading, your eyes half-lidded and barely focusing, just needing him to feel good now, too.

You're really fucking unbelievable.

He can't remember ever having a woman ask him to come.

He kisses you so hard you become dizzy, pressing his lips onto yours and tangling a hand into your hair. He pushes impossibly closer, thrusts back into you and pulls another string of moans from you, bordering on incomprehensible, hardly more than breaths, mewls that he swallows before they can flee into the empty air of the living room.

His own breathing comes in pants, his muscles clenching and tensing and he's there quicker than he thought he'd be. He's close, really close, and that's when you decide to dig your teeth into his lip and tug and fuck, he's there, alright. He's done then. He spills inside you with a groan, pulling back right as you flash him a dazed grin, eyes fluttering open to take him in.

Your throat feels way too dry all of a sudden.

You don't think you'll get this image out of your head ever again, this image of him coming undone on top of you. It's burning itself into your memory while you watch, never to be forgotten.

Because hell no, you won't forget this.

"Fuck", Jake groans, his voice all rough and hoarse and he leans down to press a kiss to your lips again, slow this time, almost soft. He brushes a thumb down your cheek, lightly cups your jaw and pulls you even closer, your skin warm beneath his fingers.

You tighten your arms around his neck a bit, keeping him firmly there, firmly on top of you, firmly inside of you. But he makes no move to leave, anyway. Just runs his tongue tenderly along yours, unhurried and gentle, and holds you close. You don't know for how long. He could've kept you there for eternity and you wouldn't have minded. How could you mind, basking in the afterglow like this, with his skin sticking to yours, his fingers grazing your cheek, his lips brushing against yours? No, really, you could've stayed there for the rest of forever.

But he pulls back after a while, of course, and pulls out, too. You let out some kind of disappointed mewl, but that's about everything you can do before he gently grasps your wrists and pulls your arms from around him, smiling in a way you can't even begin to complain.

"Lets get you cleaned up, darling", he says softly, carefully helping you sit up, his hands everywhere but nowhere nearly long enough.

You sigh dramatically, blinking your eyes open to look at him, even as you let him pull you up. Your legs feel like pudding. You feel like pudding.

"If we have to", you give in, smiling as Jake grins and shakes his head at you.

"We have to", he chuckles, hauls you up into his arms and waits for you to hold onto him before he carries you into the bathroom - seemingly fucking without any problem whatsoever, as if you weigh nothing at all to him.

You bite down on your lip and rest your forehead against his chest, squeezing your eyes shut to not have to look at him while you contemplate his strength. He should not be this fucking strong. He should not be allowed to be this fucking strong.

"Careful", Jake says, his voice low, as he sets you gently down on the toilet seat. You flinch away from the ice-cold seat against your thighs, fingernails digging into his shoulders for one, two, three seconds before you relax and settle down.

Jake lets go of you just as softly, steadying you until he's sure you won't just fall right off the toilet. He turns and you look up, his back right there to stare at, a smile tugging at your lips again - goddamn, he looks way too good, holy shit. You barely hear the garbage can open and close as he throws away the used condom, then rummages through the drawers until he finds a washcloth that he can soak in luke warm water.

He turns with a smile, grabs your chin tenderly and presses a kiss to your lips, just one, all sweet and languid, so unlike the rest of his kisses. You hardly notice that he's cleaning you off as he kneels down in front of you, simply because you're so entranced by him. God, but he really looks like he's fucking glowing, you hate him for having this effect on you.

He wraps his arms around you again - did he put the washcloth away? fuck, did you miss that? - and you cuddle close, almost (but just almost) letting out a pleased sigh. Fuck, he's so broad and so strong and so comfortable...

He sets you down on the couch and smiles.

"Wait here for me, darling", he mutters, bending down to pick up your shirt (his shirt, really) and slide it carefully over your head once again. You hug yourself close and settle deep into the couch as Jake disappears. His steps echo through the house.

Then there's silence.

Absolute silence.

You rest your head against the headrest and close your eyes, your fingertips absentmindedly drawing circles against your heated skin.

And in this quiet emptiness... the reality of the situation finally sinks in.

For the first time.

Because you just slept with Jake Seresin.

Jake Seresin. Your neighbour Jake Seresin. Your dad's best friend Jake Seresin. Twenty-two years older than you Jake Seresin.

Holy fucking shit. Holy fucking shit.

This actually happened. This actually fucking happened. You slept with Jake Seresin. And somehow... somehow- Somehow you can't feel guilty. You can't feel bad or ashamed. Not like you should. And you definitely should. Because this is Jake Seresin, not some random frat guy. This is forty-seven year old, your dad's best friend Jake Seresin.

But you can't feel bad.

You really do try, for the entirety of a minute or two, while somewhere in the back of the house, a door is opened and closed again. But you still can't feel bad. So you don't.

Jake comes back with a water bottle and his briefs back on, which you can't help but feel disappointed at. He sits down on the couch next to you and hands you the bottle.

"Drink", he nods, so you uncap it carefully and take a sip. It's charming, really, how the first time you'd met him with your car broken down, he'd also handed you a water bottle. A grin tugs at your lips involuntarily. It's just coincidence, you know that, but there's something incredibly sweet about the way he's seemingly always made sure to keep you hydrated. There's something sweet about him, simple as that, with how softly he's cleaned you off and settled you down on the couch after.

You put the bottle down on the table and turn to him.

He looks almost normal again, almost like before. He's still nearly naked though (which you certainly aren't complaining about), and his hair still looks like he's just walked straight out of a hurricane. He raises his eyebrows at you as you take him in.

"We should probably talk about this", you say, your voice cracking halfway through. You're not sure you want to talk about it. And with the way Jake's face falls... yeah, he doesn't seem to, either. But he still straightens up and brings some more distance between the both of you.

Maybe that's smart, actually. Maybe. But then again, you've already done everything you could to try and feel bad, so instead of doing the reasonable (you're already way past the reasonable anyway) and pushing further away from Jake too, you stretch out a leg and drape it over his lap again.

A muscle in his jaw ticks and he grasps your ankle almost immediately, as if there's no other choice but to touch you even while he's trying to keep his distance.

"But", you grin, scooching a little closer as an idea forms in your mind, "You know, I still have to shower. Chlorine is so bad for the skin unless you wash it off. And I did spend quite a while in the pool today."

...

It's Monday afternoon and even hotter than the weeks before. You're sitting outside, sunbathing in the fifteenth layer of sunscreen of the day, with sunglasses on that hardly seem to do anything and wearing nothing but a bikini because god, you're fucking melting. It hasn't been this hot the entire year.

The only really good thing about the scorching heat is that Jake, for lack of swimming pools in his garden, is doing sets in yours. You're incredibly glad for your sunglasses, because even though your mother is sitting right next to you, burying her nose in another of the novels she'd checked out from the library two weeks earlier, you can ogle Jake without worrying that she'll catch you.

And goddamn, you're ogling, alright.

It's not like you haven't stared at him enough. Over the past five days, you've barely been doing anything else. Well, except for those times you'd had your eyes closed and his lips on yours, of course. But still, you don't really feel like you could ever possibly get enough of staring at him.

And right now, right now, with the way he climbs out of the pool, arms tensing and flexing, water dropping down his skin, his hands running through his soaking wet hair...

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You bite down on your lip and press your thighs together. God, if you aren't careful, you'll have to disappear into the house and shower early, because you're sure you could not pass the dark spot on your bikini bottoms off as sweat.

Jake turns away to grab his towel and starts to dry off and you're already mulling over how you'll phrase the message you'll send him (something along the lines of 'tell my parents you need to use the bathroom' with a shower selfie attached? You've already sent him way worse things while he'd been at work) when your mother suddenly gasps.

Three heads turn to her simultaneously.

"Jake!", she chokes, her book sinking down into her lap. Jake raises his eyebrows at her, just as clueless as you are. She parts her lips and then clamps her mouth shut again, apparently lost for words. "Your back."

It hits you like a tidal wave.

Oh, shit. Oh, holy fucking shit.

You should've noticed earlier. Much earlier. You should've- God, he'd known, too, hadn't he? But you'd been the one to stare at his back long enough that you should've noticed. Yesterday. You should've noticed the long, red lines running down his skin. Your long, red lines running down his skin. Fuck, fuck-

"Oh, that-"

Jake stumbles over his own words for the first time ever since you've met him. His eyes find yours, for just a moment or two, and you can see the panic in them. It's the second fucking day your parents are back. The second fucking day. And you're already messing up, you're already-

"I knew it", your mother grins, clapping her hands together and letting out a laugh that startles you so hard you flinch. "I knew you were a womanizer after all! I mean, looking like that, there's no other way-"

"Honey!", your father gasps, and she giggles and throws her hands up. But he's grinning too and you know him well enough to say he isn't really mad that she's complimenting Jake.

"Sorry, sorry, just saying." She chuckles to herself and grabs her book again, her voice dropping to a mumble. "I can't believe it though, we go away for five days and suddenly he's hooking up with someone! I think we need to stop inviting him over so often if we want him to find somebody."

Your father laughs and gets up to offer Jake a beer.

"You didn't happen to see who he brought home, did you?", your mother asks, her voice almost too casual to really be casual as she turns her head to look at you with raised eyebrows.

You choke on your breath.

"Um-", you start, but your father already rolls his eyes and saves you without meaning to.

"You're not nosy at all", he chides, resting his beer bottle against her foot. She tugs it away and shakes her head at him.

"Just curious", she grins. "Just curious."

Yeah. Just curious. You pray to god that just curious won't one day expose the little secret you've got going on with Jake. Next time, you'll really have to be more careful with your nails.

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin smut #dbf!jake seresin #dbf!jake seresin smut #x reader #dbf!jake seresin x reader #top gun #top gun x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin smut

939 notes · View notes

mewhenimanangel · 5 months

Text

reporting live, paige bueckers

— synopsis. you meet paige when you’re assigned to report on the uconn v. iowa game. twoshot!

notes ౨ৎ: i’ve never wrote for a real person before it feels so strange…but there’s like no fics on here i had to take matters into my own hands.

also yes im rewriting history to make uconn win!

next ౨ৎ

you checked yourself out in the mirror, fixing your outfit - low rise black work pants with a white button down that showed a small sliver of your stomach with black sling back heels.

you tossed your hair around to fix it making sure it was in perfect shape. after all, your job was pretty dependent on looks.

you worked as a reporter for the city's top news agency and tonight you would be attending the uconn versus iowa women's basketball game.

you were also pretty active on social media and managed to make some money that way, you were more than grateful for your lifestyle.

you called your friend, devon , to make sure she was on her way to get you knowing you absolutely could not be late tonight.

she answered the phone and you sighed a breath of relief when it sounded like she was in fact on her way.

"hey girll, are you excited for tonight? pretty big story" she said, bustling city noise behind her.

"yeah i'm excited to interview uconn after they beat iowa's ass" you smirked when you heard her gasp on the other side. "they so will not! my girlfriend caitlin's gonna pull through"

"nah, paige buckets got that easily" you scoffed as you packed your bag, ready to head downstairs out of your apartment.

your bosses had assigned you to tonight's game and hooked you up with two court-side tickets for you and a guest, along with the camera crew.

you of course had to invite your best friend to go with you.

you stepped outside the building and watched as her car pulled up outside.

"ugh i can't believe i get to see caitlin clark up close" devon squealed as you got yourself situated in the car. "ugh be calm, you literally have a boyfriend." you joked. "okay and?" she laughed as she drove off.

once you were at the stadium, you and devon met at with your crew as you found your seats inside.

the game wasn't due to start for another fourty or so minutes but it was already packed inside.

you were glad women's basketball was finally getting the recognition it deserved after you and your mom had been fans of it almost your whole life. you even played a little bit in high school.

you and devon got snacks before sitting down and getting yourselves comfortable.

it didn't feel long until the players came out and the game was started. aliyah and hailey jump started the game before kk threw the ball back at paige.

the game was a close one and you made sure to follow it closely. throughout the game you did side interviews with other players and people attending the game, which was all just leading up to the end of game interviews.

it was the final quarter and you made sure to pay close attention.

it all came down to the last few seconds when paige threw the ball off caitlin's back to catch it again and land the ball in the net, giving uconn the winning score!

you and your crew sat up as you turned your reporter accent on "there you have it folks, uconn has won this round and will advance to the final game against south carolina. what an amazing job tonight by these wonderful ladies on both teams. win or lose, it was a great watch and i'm cheering for everyone's next move."

once you were sure the cameras were off you turned around to devon and threw your hands in the air.

"bitch i told you! i tolddd you paige had this game" you squealed. "ughhh you're so annoying why are you always right" she groaned.

a few minutes later you popped some mouthwash melts and fixed your makeup before you were to interview paige.

your hands were sweating like crazy. you never wanted to come off as an insane fan girl but you were obsessed with paige.

your cameraman followed you as you walked over to paige and she turned around. "hi" she smiled and shook your hand. "hi, are you ready?" you asked her. "yeah" she smiled. you gave your cameraman a thumbs up as he turned the camera on.

you turned to paige, who was already staring at you and you took a deep breath. you're usually never nervous to interview people but god the way she was looking at you.

her eyes were trained on yours and she had a little smirk on her face, her face was glistening from the tiring game she just played and she licked her lips waiting for you to ask your first question.

you cleared your throat "i'm here with paige bueckers, who just made the winning move in the highly anticipated iowa versus uconn game! tell me paige, how did it feel to take the winning shot?" you turned the microphone to her.

she rubbed her chin "ah it was really nerve racking to be honest i mean. i could feel my team counting on me and i knew i really had to pull through and get us out on top" she answered, eyes focusing back on you.

"yeah but that was a tough shot wasn't it?" you watched her eyes drop down to scan you before meeting yours again. "yeah but i knew i could make it in for sure"

"right, bueckers get buckets i don't know what to tell y'all" you joked to the camera. paige laughed.

"yeah for sure but i really owe it all to my team" she continued before kk came up behind her. "yupppppp WE GOING TO THE TITLE GAME" she threw her arms around you and paige and the threw of you jumped in excitement before running to find her other teammates.

you laughed it off before continuing for the camera "well there you have it, paige it was lovely to talk to you. congratulations on the winning game! make sure those of you at home tune in to the final game taking place in just a few days." you signed off the camera before your crew stopped filming.

you turned to paige and dropped the reporter voice. "it was nice to meet you by the way" you smiled. "i could say the same" her eyes never left yours and you bit your cheek to hide a smile.

"well i should let you go celebrate, congratulations, have a good night!" you said, beginning to walk away.

"bye it was nice to meet you" she said before you fully walked away.

you walked over to devon who was waiting on the side. "i know damn well your heart is racing"

"shut up" you smirked.

#nia writes ࿐#paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers #paige buckets #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #nika muhl #kk arnold #bueckers get buckets

650 notes · View notes

woso-dreamzzz · 7 months

Text

Strictly Come Dancing

Leah Williamson x Reader

Summary: The final of Strictly Come Dancing

"Dancing the Argentine Tango, Leah Williamson and her partner y/n l/n!"

There had always been something about the tango that drew you in. Maybe it was the way the dancers moved. Maybe it was the outfits or the sensuality or something of the like.

Either way, it had always been your favourite dance.

It had always been special.

But now, it was even more special.

It was the dance you and Leah were performing for your last dance on Strictly and you were determined to give it your all.

The music began. The lights rose.

You'd practised this until even your feet hurt, a rare feat for a professional dancer. You'd practised this until even Leah with her infinite stamina had to call it quits.

She looked good enough to eat in the suit she was wearing. One hand clamped around your own and the other curled around to lay on your shoulder blade.

You nudged her arm up a tad higher before you truly began.

You were chest to chest for most of the dance and you refused to let her look away from you even as you knew she could hear the crowd cheering when she pulled off an impressive dip that had you almost kissing.

You used all of the dancefloor as you kept your eyes on her.

You studied her face. The shape of her eyes. The arch of her brows. The slope of her nose. Her perfect, perfect lips.

She didn't look like she was struggling and you were glad for that.

You saw her draw in a big lungful of breath before she lifted you, spinning you around right as you passed the judges.

You smirked at her as she steadied you both, drawing your face closer to hers with a hand on her cheek as she leant over you.

The crowd erupted into cheers as the music stopped and regular lights returned.

You grinned as Leah righted you, hands on your waist as you greeted Tess.

"I mean," Tess said," It is the final and, wow, that was certainly a final level performance. Craig, what did you think?"

"Well," Craig said," Leah, I have to say, I...Loved it! When you think of a tango, you think intimacy, sensuality and I must say, you have done that tonight. My only critique? There should have been more! I wanted to watch you two forever!"

"Motsi?"

Motsi fanned herself. "You two..." She said, shaking her head," You two...I don't think I have ever seen such a consistent duo. Week in, week out, you put out some of the best dancing I've ever seen! This is how you win a final! Footwork! Eye contact! I felt like I was intruding on a personal moment and that's exactly how a tango should feel! I agree with Craig!" She slammed her hand onto the desk. "I wanted more!"

"Shirley?"

"I mean, there's not much new to say. You hit your footwork. You hit your lifts. You were so close you were practically kissing. The Argentine Tango is about chemistry and partnership, something you have shown you two have in droves. There's nothing to say but I hope you consider a dance career when you're finished with football, Leah!"

Leah laughed next to you.

"Anton?"

"Everyone keeps taking what I want to say!" He complained," There's nothing I can say that hasn't already been said. It was the epitome of a tango. Everything was right. The costumes. The music. The partnership! There is nothing I can add that will change anyone's mind. That is the best tango we've seen on this show in years!"

At his declaration, the crowd cheered and you leaned into Leah's side.

"I mean," Tess said, noisily blowing out air," The judges are nothing but complimentary. This is a final. Leah, I have to know, how have you found your Strictly experience?"

"I mean," Leah said," Nothing short of amazing. And I've done some pretty amazing things in my career. But this is certainly one of the hardest. Obviously, I stepped out of my comfort zone agreeing to do this but I'm glad I did." She nudged you. "Plus this one would never let it go if I didn't."

Tess laughed. "We've had previous partners tell us she's a bit of a slave driver."

"She's certainly intense," Leah agreed, winking when you slapped her on the chest," Nah, but it's good. I wouldn't be nearly as comfortable as I am without her. She really pushes me to be my best every day so, yeah, I'm glad I've got her."

It felt all too soon that you were standing back on the dancefloor with the other couple that made it to the final two and Tess was reading out the results.

You stayed pressed into Leah's side, one hand resting on the one she had clamped around your hip. It was a familiar pressure and you leaned into her.

You don't know why you felt so worried. You had won this trophy four time all ready, all in a row.

"The votes have been counted and independently verified," Tess said solemnly," And the winner of this year's Strictly Come Dancing is..."

Leah squeezed you tight.

"Leah and y/n!"

You leapt into Leah's arms and she held you securely at the waist, spinning you around. You'd been trying to keep the PDA to a minimum but you'd just won and you decided that all kind of decorum was out of the window.

You crashed your lips against Leah's and she reciprocated immediately.

"Leah and y/n, you are our winners," Tess said," How does it feel?"

"Er..." Leah looked to still be in shock. "Yeah, I mean..." Her face split into a massive grin. "There's no better feeling really."

"Better than the Euro's final?"

Leah pretended to think. "Well, I got to do this one with my wife, so, yeah, maybe. I mean, I feel great! It's this one's fifth trophy in a row so I'm just glad I didn't mess up her streak."

"You wouldn't have, baby," You said, pressing a firm kiss to her cheek," I had faith in you."

Tess laughed. "Of course, winning the glitterball trophy isn't an unusual feat for you, y/n. Does it ever get old?"

"No," You said," It's made even sweeter that I've got my last glitterball trophy in a while with my wife."

Leah grinned wolfishly at you.

This announcement was a long time coming.

"Oh?" Tess asked," You don't think you'll win next year?"

"I think I'll be too busy taking care of the baby to compete."

#woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

551 notes · View notes

weepingwillowwonder · 1 month

Text

#10 Hazbin Hotel "Things I ✨️LOVE✨️ the idea of..." (because I can't share these things with people irl...)

[Minors DNI! 🔞] -> -> ->

Rosie x reader x Alastor

CW: Humiliation, Oral sex, Sex toys, Reader on display?, Teasing, Sub!Reader

Rosie and Alastor have tea time with Rosie's new "assistant"

---

“Oh Alastor, I’m so glad you were able to come by!” Rosie exclaims, putting a friendly hand on his shoulder. “It’s been much too long! Come in, come in!” She brings the guest into the secluded tea room, gesturing to him to take a seat across from her. Alastor nods in agreement with a pondering look on his face, his usual smile seeming genuine to be in the presence of a good friend. “I suppose it has been quite a while...” He trails off as you come into the room with a tray of refreshments.

While his usual grin reflects no emotions, the slight narrowing of Alastors eyes is the only indication he shows of a reaction of your presence. “Ah, what a wonderful job, dear! Very nice, well done!” Rosie’s hands clasp together in her lap as you arrange the various delicacies and beverages on table for the two overlords. You give her a small smile at her praise and step away to put the remaining tray in the kitchen.

In your brief absence, Alasor wordlessly looks to Rosie with an eyebrow raised questionably. During their past gatherings it was rare to have another person involved, much less someone who didn’t really fit the description of someone who lived in Cannibal town. He had found it strange that he had never seen you before, even more so that Rosie had not mentioned you until now.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she looks back at him and offers him a sly look. When you come back to the table she introduces you both, “This is my… newest assistant.” She grins as she brings her teacup to her lips, amused by your flustered expression. “You know how being an overlord can be sometimes,” with her free hand she wiggles her fingers playfully. “ It's useful to have someone to help relieve that stress.”

Alastor easily picks up the innuendo in her tone, although he’s not exactly sure what she means by ‘assistant.’ When your name rolls off his tongue, your breath catches. Of course you’d heard of the radio demon and his history prior to this interaction. Even before Rosie mentioned their close nature, you were well aware of the horror stories that gave him his notable reputation.

“Pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure!” He offers you his hand, in which you return the gesture, timidly shaking it. Your eyes flicker to Rosie when you let go of his hand, watching as she discreetly pulls a tiny black controller from her pocket. She doesn’t acknowledge that you are watching her, immediately going into conversation to catch up with her friend.

After waiting for sometime in anticipation, you finally relax. Bringing your glass of water to your lips, you follow along with the lighthearted discussion, occasionally nodding in agreement on a particular topic. A sudden humming between your legs makes you jerk slightly, spilling some of the contents from your cup into your lap. The gasp that escapes you from the stimulation, easily could have been disguised as surprise by the cold liquid seeping through your clothes.

Rosie feigns her shock by your outburst and reaches over to pat your lap with a napkin. “Darling, you really ought to be more careful!” Her motions disguised as an attempt to clean you up, were teasingly stroking the tops of your thighs, dangerously close to the sensitive area between your legs. You hold your breath, hoping that you were hidden by the tablecloth from Alastor’s unwavering gaze.

“So messy…” Rosie sighs disappointedly before leaning back in her seat. “You’ll have to excuse this behavior, Alastor.” She turns the vibrations up a notch, forcing you to press your legs together. “We’re working on our…edicate. Aren’t we dear?” Both sets of eyes are on you now and you nod, trying to keep your composure. “Yes ma’am...” you answer breathlessly.

Alastor’s eyes crinkle in amusement as he watches your trembling form. Maybe if you weren’t so obvious he could write off the faint buzzing sound as white noise from some nearby machinery. He rests his elbows on the table, fists tucked under his chin as he takes in your appearance. Your hands wring together, seeking some form of comfort in your embarrassment as you fail not to shift in your chair. Eyes glazed over and unfocused, you keep looking to Rosie for approval, small sounds escaping your lips when you don’t get it. His ears pick up on the quickening of your breath, your scent of arousal filling his nose as well.

So odd that Rosie would have her…acquaintance perform such lewd acts so openly in front of him. Surely she didn’t think he wouldn’t notice, right? For a moment things are quiet as you continue your attempts to gather yourself. The sticky wetness growing between your legs provides more and more of a struggle in your situation. Rosie raises the vibrations again, noting the slightest arch of your back in the chair and how your eyes slip close. When they open, your face falls as she slides the remote on the table in Alastor's direction.

“What’s this?” He ponders, reaching over to inspect the gadget. He takes note of the current setting, looks to his companion as she answers. “That,” she lazily points to the controller, lifting her cup for a sip of tea. “Is what I use to keep my little assistant in line. Isn’t that right?” It takes you a moment to realize she’s talking to you, lost in the pleasurable feeling of the toy nestled inside you. When she calls your name again expectantly, you answer, “H-huh? Oh! Right, y-yes ma’am..!”

Alastor takes a look at the controller again, half-listening to Rosie ramble on to another topic as if she didn’t just hand him some form of sex technology. If anything he was curious, not usually one to partake in actions of this nature. When he fiddles with one of the knobs, he’s pleasantly surprised at the needy sound that slips from your lips. He feels a slight stirring in his pants, not from the sexual nature of the situation, but from the control the tiny remote in his hand held over you. Before he realizes it, he finds himself speaking, “If I may ask, what exactly is this remote controlling?”

The glint in Rosie’s eyes and the sharply growing grin on her face almost has Alastor second guessing his curiosity. She turns to you and motions to you to answer him. When his eyes fall on you, you shakily attempt to get up from your chair, knowing exactly where this conversation is going. “I um forgot, I t-think I need to..." you stutter, trying to make an escape. "Sit." Rosie commands, giving you a sharp glance and pointing back to your chair. The desperate noise that escapes you has the other two chuckling as you obediently plop back down in the chair.

"Your pet listens well," Alastor comments, eyeing your trembling form. Rosie laughs and reaches over to rub a comforting hand on your knee. "Well it's taken some training that's for sure! Such a sweet little thing. Wouldn't know discipline if it hit 'em in the head…” Her nails slightly dig into the area where her hand is placed. “Now...be a dear and answer our guest, you don’t want to be a bad host do you?”

You shake your head, keeping your head down as your fingers shakily move to unbutton your pants. They watch expectantly as you slowly undress your bottom half, the clothing piling on the floor in front of you. You lift your legs to rest your heels on the sides of the chair you're sitting on and spread yourself wide for them to see.

The feeling of the cold air coming in contact with your arousal has you burning up, feeling the most exposed in this moment. You can feel your heartbeat between your legs as the vibrations continue from the toy inside of you. The heated gaze of the two overlords has you feeling well past overstimulated, almost as if they had been actively touching you. When your hand reaches down to skim the base of the toy, you let out a wonton moan as the slight bit of pressure. “It vibrates here..” You murmur. Alastor nods silently, absentmindedly pressing the heel of his hand to his crotch to relieve some of the growing sensation. The quiet sigh that leaves his lips doesn't go unnoticed by you or Rosie.

"Oh would you look at the time! I've got to run. I’ve got appointments starting in thirty…can’t be late on the job of course! Sweetie, why don't you help take care of our guest...." Rosie motions over to Alastor as she rises and starts to pick up the dishes on the table, walking into the next room. Immediately you slip off the chair to fall to your knees in front of him.

The motion presses the toy further in, rubbing perfectly against that sweet bundle of nerves inside of you. Alastor's legs spread wide as he looks at you you with a knowing expression. You look down and bite your lip, rocking against your heels slightly before trying to pull yourself together enough to follow the instructions you were given.

Knowing very well of his dislike for being touched, you opt to ask politely for his permission before continuing, “May I..?” He waits for a moment, glancing at the little black remote. “Well how can I say no when you ask so nicely? I mean I definitely could…” He brings a pondering hand to his chin, mockingly lost in thought. You can feel your heart beat loudly thumping in your ears as you pitifully beg him to let you help him. “P-please…”

Alastor’s hand slowly drops to his lap, now eyeing you with a predatory gaze. He silently unbuckles his belt, taking his time as he continues on to unbutton his pants. You watch earnestly as his fingers unzip his pants, then disappear under the waistband of his briefs. When he reveals himself, you can’t help licking your lips in anticipation. He slips his pants lower and motions a hand towards you, offering himself.

Being weary of your hand placement, you lean down quickly to take his hardening cock into your mouth. The sound that comes from Alastor startles you, accidentally forcing more of him down your throat. Choking on his cock briefly has you distracted from the task at hand, your eyes flickering to his heated gaze. The look he gives you has you baring down on the toy inside of you, eyes blinking close as you get lost in the pleasure.

At his deep growl, Rosie comes back into the room first gasping in surprise, then letting out a pleased giggle. "Oh my! That certainly isn't what I meant, but I suppose that works too!" Alastor's hand finds purchase in the back of your head, forcing you to take more of him. Your eyes glaze over as you fight your gag reflex, trying so hard to be good for your guest.

Alastor's hips roll against your mouth, searching for more of your wet heat as he gets closer to completion. His erratic movements have you reaching up to find purchase in his thighs, only to stop right before contact at the sound of the distorted static in the radio demon's voice. "Don't." Your hands immediately drop to your lap, fists balled up against your knees as he continues to use your mouth as he pleases.

He doesn't warn you when he cums, but you see the way his sharp smile seems to slightly falter right before his release hits your tongue. Your eyes fall close as your mouth fills with his essence, throwing you into a rapid release as well. Your hips rock backwards as you struggle to swallow it all down. The weight of him against your tongue has you moaning around him, earning a soft chuckle from above you. When your eyes open, they fall on Alastor's, holding contact as he slides out of your mouth and turns off the contraption inside of you. Your tongue immediately flickers against your lips to chase any remnants of him and he gives you a pleased look.

When you turn towards the table, you notice it's been completely cleared and Rosie makes her appearance again. "Alright, come along now, pull yourself together." She motions a finger to you to come to her as you struggle to quickly dress yourself, tripping over your feet. "Alastor, as always it's a pleasure to see you. I apologize our chat was cut short this time, do come by again soon so we can catch up!" When you look back at Alastor he's already made himself presentable and has a hand extended towards you.

"Oh and do make sure to thank Alastor! After all he's been quite patient with you...” Rosie raises an eyebrow at you as you accept his assistance and rise to your feet. "T-thank you, sir." You breathed out, looking down to avoid the eyes watching you in the moment. He raises the back of your hand to his lips, the action surprising you enough to glance back up to him. "Of course, the pleasure is all mine."

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin alastor #hazbin rosie #alastor x reader #rosie x reader #alastor x reader x rosie #smut #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin smut #alastor

205 notes · View notes

girliism · 1 month

Text

70s cult leader art who picked up your friend from the grocery store on day and you haven’t seen her since.

“hello” you hear a voice you haven’t heard in months.

“oh my god? are you ok no ones seen you for months. i thought you died.”

“died?” she laughs through the phone. “i haven’t died in fact i feel more alive than ever.”

“well, where the hell have been?”

“that’s what i called you for, i want you to come visit me. it’s been so long and i missed you dearly. he even said you could spend the weekend.” he?

you don’t question it to much telling her you’ll be there. she gives you the address and says to come on friday.

you leave early in that morning, the california sun beating down on you through the window as you approach a huge house. you eagerly park your car getting out to see your friend.

“i’m so glad you came.” she pulls you in for a tight hug. “god, i missed you so much.” you hold her just a little bit longer before pulling notice something on her upper arm. “what’s this?” you stroke the mark on her arm. “looks like a tattoo but worse.” she pulls away from you. “it’s nothing. come on i’ll show you around. and don’t worry about your bags someone will grab them.”

the house was beautiful. a giant staircase and a crystal chandelier hangs in the foyer. “holy shit.” you stare in awe. your friend laughs at your reaction. “i know right wait til you see the rest of the house.”

“and this is where you’ll be sleeping here with me.” it was a huge room, lots of windows and six beds lined up next to each other. “you can have the bed on the end-” “girls.” you turn around to a man with blonde curly hair dressed in a long silk rob and tiny underwear. “art!” your friend goes up to place a kiss on his lips. oh? “art, this is my friend the one i was telling you about.” you hold you hand out for him to shake but his immediately pulls you in for a hug. “it’s so great to finally meet you. i hope you have a fun time here.” he pulls away with a big smile on his face before leaving. “isn’t he just so great.” your friend stared at the now empty door way. “anyways you should probably change out of those jeans before i show you outside. it gets terribly hot.”

dressed in a loose white dress you and your friend walk through the garden. “this is our garden all of our produce is grown here by our garden members.” they were all naked sporting the same mark on their arm as your friend. she showed you the rest of the huge property and soon it was time for dinner.

the dining room was full of talking and laughing. three long tables placed next to each other. you sat in the middle one. the room got quite when art walked in. “family, today we are joined by a new friend. i hope you all made her feel welcome.” yes is echoed throughout the room. “join hands and thank the divine for blessing us with such a beautiful harvest and such a beautiful guest.” they all joined hands thanking the divine before passing food around starting up conversations again.

art watched you the whole night. they way your lips wrapped around the fork how easy you got a long with every one. maybe you were what was missing from the house.

“you got so lucky tonight. you got to sit at his table right next to him.” you friend said to you from her bed. it was night and you and your friend were talking about the day you had. “what’s so great about this art guy.” you say. everyone here seems so obsessed with him. “he’s amazing. when he found me i was so sad and hiding it from you, but he saw that and he helped me.” you hummed. “well i’m glad you’re happier now.”

you get awoken in the middle of the night by howling and the urge to pee.

the old house creeks below you feet as you walk back from the bathroom when you hear it. moans. they were coming from a room and the door wasn’t all the way closed, so against your better judgment you looked through the crack. you saw bodies fucking in a perfect circle with art in the middle, two people going down on him. what the fuck? you accidentally push the door causing it to creek. art snaps his eye to yours making quick contact with you. you gasp moving back immediately making your way back to the room. you replay the scene in your head pushing a pillow in between your legs grinding against it softly.

the kitchen is busy that morning, people moving in and out of it. your friend spots you coming up to hug you. “good morning. how was your sleep?” “it was fine. um what’s going on here.” you pick up and apple from the fruit bowl but it’s ripped out your hand. “no eating that those are for tonight.” you ask what tonight was. “the first full moon of the summer. we’re gonna be camping outside, oh i do hope you stay for it.” “oh uh i wouldn’t want to intrude.” you say shaking your head. your friend smile drops “that’s ok. it’s been so much fun either way i do hope you come back and visit.” she shrugs going back to preparing for tonight.

you were packing your bag up getting ready to leave when someone comes in tell you art what’s to see you in his office. you make your way to his office knocking on his door. you hear a soft come in and you walk in taking a seat in front of him. “i hear you’re not gonna stay for the full moon camp out.” art says leaning back in his chair blue eyes locking with yours. you draw a breath looking away. “i just as an outsider wouldn’t want to crash you know.” art laughs getting up to take a seat on the desk in front of you holding your hands in his lap. “please, we would love to have you join us.” his thumbs stroke the back of your hands.

so you find your in another white flowy dress walking bare foot up a hill arm hooked with your friends. “i’m so happy you decided to stay you’re gonna have so much fun.” you friend smiles.

“drink this and find a spot.” you drink the mysterious drink the guy at the top of the hill. you start to fill whatever it is you drank, your muscles feel loose and the flames in front of you look as if they are waving. you see your friend encourage you to get up and dance with her so you do. jumping and twisting dancing around the fire getting lost in the night. art watches from his spot before getting up to dance too, grabbing your hand pulling you off to a more secluded area.

art pushes you to lay on the grass hovering over you pulling the strap of your dress down. you moan at how his touch shockes you. whatever you drank has you overly sensitive and needy. “i saw you watching us last night in the shadows.” your bare tits get exposed to the cold night air nipples harden. “you wanted to join just us or did you want me all to yourself.” art pulls your head that was rolling to the side smacking your cheek to get your eyes to open. “yes, i wanted you i even went back in my bed and touched myself.” you whine at the filling of art’s fingers teasing your cunt.

you were so high. your eyes glossed over and drool spilling out of your mouth that art licks ups slipping his tongue in your mouth. “want you to fuck me with your cock.” the small sober part of you was confused on why you were acting like this, but the major part of your mind felt fuzzy, and art hands holding your thighs open made you want to cum on the spot just from his touch.

art chuckled at your directness. “i can do that.” art pulls is cock out of his pants pushing it into your wet heat. “fuck.” he grunts bottoming out. the second he enters you, you feel reborn like his cock was what was missing from your life. “oh my god.” your eyes roll back. art shakes his head. “no, not god. the divine.” he smiles at you bringing one of your legs up over his shoulder and starts fucking into you.

“i thank the divine for bringing you here for bringing me such a welcoming pussy to lay my sperm.” art kisses all over your face gripping your breast hard, panting like a dog in your ear.

“art art art - oh fuck - fuck me harder.” you whine. the twigs on the ground scrap your back, and art is punching the sweet spot inside you with his dick.

art starts licking and sucking on your breast, leaving faint bite marks there. “the best fucking pussy. need you to stay with me, rule with me in my divine kingdom.” everything art’s saying and how his thumbs moves fast on your clit has you blanking. absolutely nothing is being thought. the only thing echoing up there is arts pleads of staying with him.

“i think i’m gonna come.” you dig your nail into his arm as your cum gushes down his cock. you don’t know when art cums in you but he does. the only thing you do know is how you feeling like your floating. everything around you seems so bright and vibrant. is this the divine?

you come back to reality when art kisses your lips asking if your were ok. “i’m more than ok, i’m perfect.” you breathe out. art smiles down at you. “so you’ll stay with me?” art ask taking advantage of the state you were in.

“yes, i’ll do whatever for you.” you and art lay there under the full moon.

(poor girl was tripping off shrooms thinking she’s having a religious experience 🙂‍↔️)

#girliism #challengers #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson smut #cult leader!art #not proofread i will do that later

202 notes · View notes

trulyumai · 2 months

Text

pizza time!

—pairing: Eddie Munson / Reader

synopsis: with rain interrupting your plans, you and Eddie decide to have a lazy day. did someone say pizza time?

—warnings: none. just fluff!

“Eddie knock it off—!” fingers danced across your waist and around the expansion of your hips. It was a mistake telling the man how ticklish your sides were, now that he took advantage of it.

“I can’t hear you sweetheart, I think you gotta speak more clearly.” His ringed fingers didn’t end there assault, he even went as far as to blow raspberries on your neck.

“Eee— okay okay! I give!” Finally ceasing his movements, the guitarist leaned against you heavily. Panting and out of breath his hand came up to cradle your cheek. “So I win… that means pizza for dinner?” A smile broke out onto his face, showing the little laugh lines molded into his skin.

“Pizza for dinner,” you hummed. Already moving towards the dial phone to appease your needy boyfriend with the much needed greasy cheese slices.

Eddie, slouched on the couch, already wanting to reach out for your frame. Pouting, he waited as you finished the call with the restaurant, and with open palms gestured for you to come back.

“Yes, okay. Thank you Reese.”

Eddie frowned, “how the hell do you know their name?”

“Because we order every weekend, dummy.” Back in his grasp you molded against him. “Someone has a problem with indulging themselves.” Your man let out a dramatic gasp, instantly disagreeing with such a statement.

Although you were having pizza again, you were so glad these lazy days came to fruition.

It rained all day today; leaving you and Eddie to sit around and just bask in each other’s existence. The man could be happy with every day like this, but with you busy with finals and Eddie finding new gigs it was getting harder and harder to have time together.

“Do you love me?” Eddie rubbed his hands across your back, somehow trying to pull you closer. If it were possible— the man would tear his skin open for you to nestle right in.

Or was that too much?

“Of course I do! You’re my everything,” hands grasped at his cheeks, demanding his full attention and halting the wandering, nervous eyes.

“And you think im handsome?” His digits were cold against your bare skin, they lightly found their way under your (his), baggy shirt. Moving up and down comfortingly.

“I think you’re the handsomest, prettiest dungeon master in existence.”

Eddie laughed. “I am the prettiest, aren’t I?”

Humming in agreement your head leaned down and rested onto the man’s chest, now facing the little television that graced the living room.

“I can’t wait to start a life with you, baby. Little you’s wandering’ round, a cute little house.” Eddie sighed, pressing his slightly chapped lips to the base of your head.

“Woah there big guy. One step at a time,” you traced the line around his jaw. “First we need to graduate. And then we’ll go from there, hm?”

“Okay, okay, im just saying. I hope they get your eyes.” sinking back down into the smushed cushion, Eddie relaxed.

…

“Do you think the pizzas close?”

A pause.

“…No hunny.”

——

Taglist!

@ali-r3n & @anukulee (If you wish to be tagged in future Eddie Munson blurbs or stories, let me know!)

#fluff #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie x you #eddie x reader #Eddie #eddie munson #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things #netflix series #can you get sick of pizza #hopefully not with Eddie involved

160 notes · View notes

sexyandcringe · 4 months

Text

Hopeless romantic

Part 1 ◇ Part 2

Warnings: none except mentions of readers past traumas, mention of sexual objectification.

Content: osamu x reader, Angst (to fluff in the next chapters), hurt no comfort.

A/n: it's my first long-fic, please be nice :)

You're not used to being loved.

Your parents were always strict, hardly ever showing their affection, you didn't even have any close friends until you started working, where you found your best friend who showed you the blessings of a platonic love; but time passes and things happen, you had to move out of the town, leave your one true friend behind.

You are not used to love but especially romantic love, because all men did was see you as the object of their sexual desires, or maybe a good time-pass until a better one came along. Never as a person with feelings, never as a woman who loved them more than they loved her.

Sometimes you were too much, sometimes you weren't enough.

Too affectionate, too clingy, too dramatic, too loud. Not pretty enough, not smart enough, not horny enough. You tried and tried to be more, to be less, to be loved, but despite your efforts, love remained elusive, even with women.

So, after years of hoping and yearning, you resigned yourself to a loveless existence.

It is not to say that you never felt happy; even if you didn’t have love, you had fun and drama, you had friends to drink with (accompanied by the ting of pain the day after), you had a lot of books to read (leaving a bitter taste in your mouth whenever you finished one), you had dates and clothes and all the good and beautiful things in life and you've learned to appreciate these fragments of happiness.

But sometimes you get lonely.

You are used to it at this point, the crushing weight in your chest at 11 PM is your daily ritual before you finally give in to sleep.

So when you see Osamu Miya’s warm smile as he greets you in his restaurant, you battle to stop your stupid crazed heart, which is currently trying to jump out of your mouth.

You are just a client, his smile doesn’t mean anything, he is only doing his job, and you have seen him give the same smile to the old ladies who only order a coffee and linger to chatter for more than two hours, too. He’s a professional, after all. You are a regular and all he wants is your money, the bastard.

(you completely ignore the fact that he remembers details about you that no one bothers to remember; like the colour of your jewellery, the names of the dogs in your shelter or how your eyeliner is a little glittered today.)

Still, you are glad you got to know him. If anything, at least he is a good friend to you, always listening to what you have to say and filling your stomach with delicious food.

“ ‘Evening, Y/N. The usual?” He asks. You nod as you sit on the corner of the counter, the same seat you sat on the first day you came in.

(Osamu puts a “Reserved” sign on it every day until your arrival, not letting anyone else sit on it because it’s yours. But you don’t need to know that.)

You chatter with Tsumoto, the part-timer student who works in his shop, about his new crush, giving him advice you wouldn’t listen to nor follow from somebody else, and just as you are about to tell him that he should just write love letters to his crush, the doorbell rings; a pretty girl with dark long hair and the body of a goddess walks in, looking around for something, or better, for someone.

“‘Samuuu!” she calls him just as he comes out of the kitchen, and his face lights up, his arms envelop her figure and her lips meet his cheeks in an affectionate gesture.

… what?

“Emi! How are you, doll?” his voice holds tenderness as he guides the girl to one of the seats available, “Have a seat, I'll fix something up for you.”

She is a beautiful girl indeed, her hair flutters in the air like sea waves and her deep green eyes would make any man weak in his knees. She graces him with a smile, her flawless teeth gleaming.“A coffee is enough ‘Samu, I’m going to meet a friend soon.”

“Roger that!” he nods, signaling to Tsumoto for the order, before returning his attention to her.

He looks happy, you don’t think he has ever looked at you with this much fondness, and you’ve never witnessed any girl embrace him, let alone kiss his cheek. Hell, you didn’t even know if he had any female friends who were not his friends’s girlfriends.

(You feel your vision blur and something clenches in your chest. You swallow it down.)

You have no idea what they are talking about, you are not listening, all you can think about is how much you feel so so stupid. You didn’t hope for anything, you tried not to hope for anything at all, but feelings are hard to get rid of, especially if you see the one causing these feelings every week.

You look at them talking like best friends who haven’t seen each other for a long time and the feeling of inadequacy gnaws at you. You wonder if you ever even stood a chance to begin with. You yearned to be someone close to Osamu, someone who could give him hugs and kisses easily, someone who knew everything about him; you yearned to be part of his inner circle, but now you feel utterly stupid and delusional. Of course, he would never see you in that light, his affection is reserved only for a pretty girl like her. Of course he wouldn’t even think about getting physical with you. What were you even thinking?

Of course, you can’t be part of his world.

Reblogs are really appreciated! - Part 2

#Osamu x reader #Osamu miya x reader #Haikyuu x reader #Haikyuu #Osamu miya #Haikyuu comfort #Haikyuu fluff #Haikyuu angst #Osamu angst #Osamu miya angst #Osamu miya comfort #Osamu miya fluff

255 notes · View notes

afreakingdork · 5 months

Text

Spring Break

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader One-Shot

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, POV Second Person, Friends to Lovers, Human/Turtle Relationships (TMNT), Yearning, Romance, Fluff, Romantic Fluff, One-Shot

Synopsis: You're on your first spring break of college and returning back home to NYC. Donnie has agreed to pick you up from the airport and the season of change is ready to exercise its rights upon your friendship with him.

Also available on Ao3

I cannot thank @tmntxthings enough! She took my half formed plot bunny and helped me finish it up and embellish it with the cutest ideas!! This fic would not exist without her and she gets my endless affection! 💞

Plane descent, it was the one part of flying that really felt like a roller coaster. With its little dips and adjustments, your stomach would rise in turn. It made some sick, but you found it exciting. It was a manifestation of coming home. With each drop in altitude you were a little bit closer and, no matter how people felt about plane rides, the excitement was palpable. Even those tired and exhausted, ready for their changeovers, were glad for a moment on the ground.

This was your stop and you were especially excited for what waited for you.

Clinging to your phone, there was a final announcement and you looked out the window. Watching fields and houses grow closer and closer, your heart alternatively soared. Ants took on definition and eventually you were doing the careful careen through buildings to land in LaGuardia. With a squeaky landing that jarred your body, people stood through the taxiing process which prompted fights with flight attendants.

You were back in New York City.

A fervor running throughout the plane, there was still the docking process and each second ticked by through syrup until you got a text.

Donatello, not to be confused with the famous Italian Sculptor: I am at the appropriate baggage claim.

It was a new entry in a sea of others that had you momentarily closing your eyes. You then typed out a response about what you’d endured since landing and Donnie kept you occupied with messages right up until it was time to deboard. Bumping and jostling and giving appropriate glares back, you were soon just shy of running down a tunnel. Just like descent, you were closing in by the moment and once you broke free from a certain pair of doors, you paused only to take stock. It was fate, you thought, that people parted and there he was.

Donatello stood bundled up both for some kind of anonymity and the early spring weather. A balmy cool outside, trees were clinging for a bit more warmth before they burst with color. You were going to miss the blossoms this time around, but you had a lifetime of watching the petals dot the otherwise dirty streets before. You always liked this season. There was a sense of change in the air. A metamorphosis, you saw not just the growth between your youth and now, but everything from the last half year.

You were offered a full ride to a school all the way across the country.

You accepted and left behind everything.

The long days of your first semester would have been lonely if not for a certain purple coded turtle offering to marathon shows with you online.

You texted in the cafeteria until you found your crowd.

You continued to message him because he had to know the latest gossip.

A webcam was sent to you as a gift so you could better work on projects together across multiple state lines.

You clung to Donnie as a virtual lifeline through your first set of finals.

The Christmas holdover in California due to a lab opportunity had been a daunting choice.

It was made all the better as you were given a digital spot at the Hamato family table during Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Then came another bout of studying for midterms.

All to now, where he’d offered to pick you up after something had come up with your parents and you had complained of the taxi fare on your spring break budget.

You were in motion.

In fact, you were barreling towards him. He heard the footsteps, but didn’t connect them to your person as he looked up. Now knowing the source, he jammed his phone in his pocket and took on a sort of prepared alarm. Then, at the last second, he pivoted a foot out. A careful rotation, he lowered his stance into a readied one. It was all the confirmation you needed as you leapt.

He caught you at the same time for the hug and you crushed yourself to him. Momentum should have knocked the air out of you, but he swung. Your body twirled up with your heart and, by the time you were set down, you were groping to get more of him. This was new, you remembered. His scent wasn’t like coming home. You’d never been close enough to really get a whiff. Clinging to his worn hoodie didn’t crop up memories of softness because you had at most brushed it in passing.

You’d known this mutant for seven months and this was your first hug.

You wanted more.

Your only saving grace was he appeared to feel the same. For each tug, to get your arms tighter around his neck, he gave equal pressure around your waist. As you butted your head to his, he clawed into your own jacket, trying to get you that much closer.

It was warm.

It was overwhelming.

You didn’t want to let go.

“Hey.” You murmured against him.

“Greetings.” His voice responded. “How was your flight?”

“Good. Boring. Long.” You nuzzled closer.

“A full work day’s flight.” Donnie hummed, amused.

“Thanks for picking me up. It’s good to see you.”

Finally, after what must have been too long, Donnie pulled back enough to view you with a chide. “You as well.”

A little shy, your arms slipped to rest against his plastron and an announcement interrupted citing luggage. A quick check found you were at the right carousel and you sent Donnie a wry look. “We’re in the right place.”

“I was clear about my location.” He playfully rolled his eyes and reluctantly relinquished you to approach the long luggage circle.

You followed close behind and bumped arms with him. “Oh, there was this lady who would not stop yaking about the toast squares she got in that plane snack mix.”

“Ah, yes, the snack gacha.” Donnie chuckled and bags began to drift down the line.

He explained the odds and you walked him backwards through your trip. There was a gap from when you’d set off for your flight until arrival. He’d been on a video call when you’d packed your suitcase so when said luggage came winding down the metal slide, you didn’t need to say a thing. He knew it and hoisted it up where you shouldered your backpack. You’d returned with mostly things to wash, but you figured that was part of coming home.

You soon drifted away from the building. Working through the bustling drop offs zone, you headed to where Donnie had sequestered one of his vehicles. Parking cost too much for the tank, he settled on something visually low key though the interior was just as technologically stacked as the others. It was a resistance in temptation to press buttons on the dash you had never seen. They felt familiar as he’d taken you on a phone tour when he completed retrofitting the van, but it felt different in person.

Conversation took you home and, before you realized it, you were idling on the street.

Time had slipped through your fingers like water and you hadn’t cupped enough to drink. There’d even been traffic, you’d sat through it, but it hadn’t prolonged the journey. You were due inside. Your parents were waiting. You also would need to leave Donnie. He’d only ever been here to give you this ride. Heart sinking regardless, you moved to give Donnie your regards with a forlorn tilt of your head.

“Let me help you with your bag.” He rushed the statement.

Your eyes met.

You were both a little too eager to delay the inevitable.

“Thank you, I’d appreciate it.” You told him though your heart wanted to ask him over for dinner.

You’d already skipped coming home for winter break and there was no way your parents would allow an interloper to impede on catching up with their child.

You were required to spend time with them first, then friends.

Duty was a strange thing. It brought you home to mom even though you were an adult with a supposed choice. It had your friend hoisting your stuffed suitcase out of the back of a van where you had created the burden of the heft. You clicked up stairs, your luggage wheels hopping steps and Donnie felt the need to fill the space as if he were required to keep from giving you a moment of quiet.

You were thankful.

You didn’t want to think of how you’d miss him.

Again, he’d felt the same.

You liked that about him.

Reaching your door, you knew you hadn’t messaged your parents for this same reason.

It was your own coveted surprise amongst what you had to do.

Donnie was careful in carting your suitcase up silently.

It felt like a stolen moment. “We still on for Wednesday?”

“Yes.” He nodded and pulled up a ninpo calendar for the sake of it. “Mikey has forewarned Señor Hueso and if you make April wait a moment more, I think she will strangle whoever is closest.”

“Of course.” You bobbed your head and felt the reminder of the knob.

You needed to go home.

You needed to see your parents.

You hadn’t seen them in so long.

You hugged Donnie.

Slower this time, you still moved quick enough that you avoided the awkward shuffle. It was an instant threading of bodies where you had to stave off a sigh. You fit so well without practice and his toned arms slung so comfortably around your waist. You bumped your head to his for the sake of closeness. He stilled and you thought it too much until he turned his beak to nuzzle the side of your head. From his inhale, he was catching your smell so you openly breathed him in the same.

Then you came apart, heads down, unable to bear to see the other leave as you mumbled out promises of seeing each other soon.

Donnie left by the sound of stairs and you unearthed your key to head inside.

Wednesday couldn’t come soon enough.

The rest of your Saturday had been a flurry of catching up with your folks. You were pelted with every question under the sun and the few phone calls with them you’d had throughout the school year seemed to have never happened. Your parents remembered none of the details no matter how much you whined about how you’d already told them about your class load. You were struck with backhanded comments about missing the holidays and how this cousin had proposed and that nephew had gone skiing and would you believe the tan your aunt got?

Then came sleeping in your old bed which was now a foreign one.

You called Donnie with your headphones on and he answered after only one ring.

Unable to stand the odd sheets, you curled up beside your window for faint outdoor light and watched Donnie on screen eat snacks as you unloaded about how annoying it all was. You loved your parents, but it was always something. He took his time in the conversation after your most heated complaints were air cooled and then subjected you to his own. His family’s separation anxiety was on another level, but he never made it a competition. You instead felt commiseration, even if the comparisons were outlandish.

Exhaustion took you to bed and the old smell of you drifted up like one you didn’t recognize. You were just tired enough to mention the discrepancy and Donnie made a comment on how you’d changed. You weren’t sure you had as you hadn’t felt like it, but you guessed of anyone, he would know best.

How had that come to be?

Your best friend was here and someone you’d known since elementary school. You still loved them, but they’d fallen to a certain wayside once Donnie appeared. Meeting him had been an accident at best. From senior year finals, you’d picked up a local coffee shop as your own. During summer, you switched to drinks for fun instead of necessity and a new barista started that you liked. She was great at conversation and better at upsizing drinks with a wink so you always made sure to tip. There came a day when you forgot to have cash on hand and you promised to come back by to fork it over. Now on a first name basis, April had scoffed it off, but you still returned after making change at a nearby bodega. It hadn’t been more than 20 minutes and yet she had disappeared. You waited for her to return from break only to notice a mutant was similarly off to the side and one you’d come to find was waiting for the same April.

That was early August.

You’d gone to UC Berkeley in early September.

That was less than a month knowing the turtle in person.

Now you were drifting off to Donnie complaining about how he’d been found sneaking into East Laird’s lab yet again.

He just needed access to one chemical.

They wouldn’t miss it.

He’d doctored the supply sheets himself.

The janitor was paranoid.

You giggled and it must have come too late because he ordered you to sleep.

You told him you missed him.

In truth, you did.

He murmured the same along with a mention of Wednesday.

It wasn’t here yet.

Texting helped as Sunday led straight to a family meal with whoever was in town. You rehashed the exact same stories about school more times than you could count. Your scholarship was both held up like a heavyweight champ’s belt while others spoke to you like you were some Hollywood convert. It didn’t matter that there were six driving hours between the two places. You’d betrayed some inane state pride by going to a far flung college and whether that was a success or pompous choice was your family’s to debate.

You went to bed so angry afterward that you broke your 125 day streak of saying goodnight to Donnie.

You woke up under your old ceiling.

Breakfast reminded you of high school.

Dad had work.

Mom had lunch.

She talked and you listened.

You saw your best friend in the 3 o’clock doldrums.

It was awkward until it wasn’t.

It took about an hour, but you fell in line to your old pattern.

You meant to message your bestie more, but college had taken both of you in different directions.

Who’s this guy you keep mentioning?

Donatello, was it?

Did you meet someone?

What a story that was and it came with a growing smile from your best friend. Each passing word felt like guilt off your lips and you were teased mercilessly.

No, stop that! We aren’t dating!

Why would you ask?

It’s perfectly normal to help a friend out like he did.

Yes, we’re close.

Not that close.

He’s a nice guy.

Yes, really nice, what are you insinuating?

It wasn’t like that.

You wanted to call Donnie on your way home.

Your best friend’s words kept you from it.

Tuesday your dad had off from work and, though they took you, you ended up showing your parents around Prospect Park. Where they’d only heard it was nice, you had seen enough from social media to actually maneuver it. You picked a restaurant they hated and then a bakery they loved. You were nagged incessantly and then pestered.

Tell us about your new college friends!

You don’t sound like you have many, what happened?

Oh, whos’ that?

Tell me more!

Are they nice?

Go to any crazy parties? We won’t judge.

They did.

They judged everything.

You kept Donatello’s name out of your mouth, though he appeared with each question.

He kept you sane.

He had been there for you.

He made things better.

You texted him as you ran to a bathroom stall for a moment of peace.

Donatello, not to be confused with the famous Italian Sculptor: Hard to go back after your taste of freedom?

It was such a him response.

Donatello, not to be confused with the famous Italian Sculptor: Tomorrow, you’ll have us.

Donatello, not to be confused with the famous Italian Sculptor: Don’t worry.

Donatello, not to be confused with the famous Italian Sculptor: Until then, say the word and I can call you away with a lab emergency.

Donatello, not to be confused with the famous Italian Sculptor: I know the codes for several. Do not ask why.

It helped as you rejoined your parents.

One more day.

Wednesday morning and afternoon were tedious affairs with little to do outside of the dreaded laundry. You aired and disinfected your suitcase and ended up cleaning for the sake of it. It made your mom happy and you prepped ingredients for your parent’s dinner even though you wouldn’t be partaking. It would be another nicety in hopes that they wouldn’t say a word when you stayed out late.

It wasn’t like you had a curfew, but you knew the biting remark would be there.

You left just before your parents got home so you sent messages to both of them to cover your bases. Their sent confirmation was like a final school bell and you were running down stairs at an alarming pace. Donnie’s text window appeared next and you shot out a message about your imminent arrival. You felt a buzz in response and wound an oddly familiar path to the necessary sewer grate. One prepped for access to the turtle’s tunnel, you climbed down and only then brought up a map. Above was one thing as you knew your local streets, but the journey below was one you’d never had time to memorize. Donnie’s map was clear and as you switched from sewer to subway lines, you soon came to the brighter lights of the lair.

The Hamato were piled in the living room and you saw Donnie amongst the bale.

He smiled, but it was Mikey who wrapped around you.

Your name was shouted and it summoned the others who hadn’t been paying as much attention. You got friendly pats, several more squeezes from Mikey, one bear hug from April, and a litany of pelted words from the others. Leo’s Hollywood comment didn’t sting as much because he pulled it out in a reference to Son in Law. He did a pretty good Pauly Shore impression and your praise had him pulling out more impersonations. As the chides and jokes flew, you thought about how they hadn’t pelted you with a million and one questions about your college life. They cared little about class and only if you’d had time to catch any local movies or shows.

You nearly wept at not having to talk about only the studious side of your life and you got to share a movie you recently streamed with Donnie. The others hadn’t known either of you watched it and you both excitedly regaled them on reasons not to without spoiling anything. You laughed about a plot line of having been plucked from their environment and joked about red squirrels. Donnie responded in kind about grey and you both laughed until you realized you were the only ones.

“What’s that about?” April asked where she was folded over a couch beside Raph.

“O-oh, it’s-!” You choked on giggles and held onto Donnie’s arm since he was close.

“You see, there was this inane test question that kept coming up.” Donnie filled in for you.

“Non-native grey squirrels have basically put native red ones on the endangered list!” You spoke with too much levity for the topic.

“Now this is a known ecological issue, but the way the professor framed the question…?” Donnie shook his head with a smile.

“He made it out to be like a gang war! So-so Donnie made this joke because they always, freaking always run out of breakfast in the caf when I get out of my morning class about my territory being disrupted!” You giggled.

Donnie bumped you to chastise. “Wait, you’re leaving out your classmate who runs to beat you there, your grey squirrel!”

“Omigosh! I don’t even know her name!” You cracked up.

“You’ve yet to mention the actual campus grey squirrel!” Donnie pressed.

You laughed harder. “Omigosh, he hates me and anyone that goes near his door on South Hall!!”

You both hurled more examples that fit into your branching squirrel joke and you thought everyone was having a good time until Raph’s voice cut through. “Sounds like a good inside joke.”

You weren’t immediately sobered, but your giggles grew strange.

“Yeah, I’m not getting it, but hey that happens.” Leo shrugged. “Squirrels aren’t my first comedy punching bag.”

“They’re cute! What do you mean they kill each other!?” Mikey had a watery expression. “To extinction!? How could they!?”

April patted his back. “It’s a dog eat dog world.”

“Is that why we were the Mad Dogz?” Leo looked to Raph.

“No, but I’m going to say yes.” Raph shined back a snaggletoothed grin.

With that the others moved on.

Suddenly feeling painfully self-conscious, you shirked and felt that Donnie’s hand behind your back.

You looked up at him and he had a grin and whisper waiting for you. “These dum-dums don’t know good comedy.”

“You are the funny one.” You softened up and, in an instant, felt reassured.

He pressed lightly for you to join the room and you jumped back into the conversation which had moved onto pigeons. A hotly debated topic, you took sides and spouted facts you had learned in class. Memes were then shared and eventually you went to Hueso’s. The rowdiest table for what was a comical argument about whether they were his favorite customers, the skeleton yokai refused to answer and only spoke of cash spent and tabs to be paid. Leo chased the man into the kitchen to be his usual intrusive self and you stayed present in table conversation the best you could.

It was difficult when Donnie kept sending you reaction images based on said speech and you found it impossible not to reach right for your phone so each joke would land fresh. It eventually meant both of you were side by side texting on another and it was only when the food came did you jar out of it.

“Can’t leave your significant others for even a second?” Mikey jeered before he tapered off. “Though I kind of thought it was you that Donnie was texting… But that’d be weird right!? You’re literally sitting together, why text?” He laughed.

Others laughed.

You and Donnie didn’t.

It spurned April to steal Donnie’s phone.

Some kind of betrayal, Donnie nearly flipped the table to get it back, but the flash of screen April had seen was enough.

You two were outed and ruthlessly drilled.

This was supposed to be fun, you thought to yourself as you tried to field lobs. They weren’t supposed to be rude like your family and yet you were back to fending vultures off.

Yes, you spent hours talking.

No, you weren’t dating.

Yes, you texted.

No, it wasn’t because it was a secret conversation.

Yes, you were just friends.

No, you weren’t more.

It was only when Leo reappeared and saw the distress mounting on you and Donnie did he step up in his leader position and caught the table’s attention by the throat. He laid out a new topic in the form of recent battles and that conversation took the heat off. You sighed into the booth, feeling particularly drained and when Leo shoved in to have more seat, it bumped you right into Donnie.

Donnie made room, but his hand stayed on the seat, close to yours.

You tapped a questioning finger to his.

Your heart was heavy.

Were you wrong?

Was your friendship weird?

Donnie had gotten you through moving across the country.

Donnie had done so much.

You really, really liked him.

His finger curled around yours for reassurance.

You’d asked once hadn’t you?

Something about if you bothered him early on since you talked just about constantly.

Donnie had scoffed by saying the word itself and told you that he put forth as much effort as he cared to.

You’d be the first to know if he was displeased.

He’d been honest.

When you complained about a science he liked, he didn’t care how hard the class was, you got an earful.

One of the few times you’d tried to use him as an excuse not to study, he’d hung right up and temporarily blocked you so you’d be forced to.

Your hands moved and, with a rush of your pulse, you tucked your other fingers up and over his.

He held your hand with one and ate pizza with his other as if nothing strange had occurred.

You did the same and spoke more normality by responding to something Mikey said.

It was taken with its own retort and everything felt right.

“I’m stuffed!” April flopped back and her jacket slunk down lazily on her shoulders.

“Can’t… move…” Raph groaned.

“That’s what happens when you are here for four hours and thirty seven minutes ordering non-stop.” Hueso commented as he picked up several empty pizza trays.

“One for the road?” Leo burped.

“Depends…” Hueso cracked a brow and slid over the check.

Leo flicked his eyes down once and then over to his tablemates where everyone dodged the question.

“Maybe next time.” Leo spoke guilt and Hueso hummed knowingly as he departed. “Split time! Cough it up!”

Complaints were loud as all sorts of money was deposited on the table.

“I love and hate catching up!” Leo crooned once an appropriate amount was placed.

“We were literally here four days ago.” Raph didn’t have the energy to eye his brother.

“Bah!” Leo swung a lethargic arm and it flopped on the table.

“No more pizza for… four more days…” Mikey grunted.

“Heh, you guys’s diet sucks.” April chuckled and fell over into Mikey on purpose.

The youngest squeaked and dominoed into Raph who shouldered the weight without moving.

“We’ll see you again, what? Friday, right?” Leo craned his head toward you.

Leo was dismissing you.

It was late.

This had been the plan.

Two days.

Donnie squeezed your hand.

You had never let go.

“Well…” You tried to respond.

“You know!” Donnie cut through conversation as if he hadn’t heard how it was coming to a close. “Remember how we weren’t able to find Jupiter Jim and His Majesty Cromslor anywhere online?”

The table quieted and you looked to Donnie curiously. “Oh yeah… We missed it in our marathon.”

“I purchased a copy then, but it only came in a few days ago.”

“That took…” You flicked up a few fingers to count. “Months!?”

“Oversees. Probably a boot leg, but it does indeed work.” Donnie smiled at you.

You felt a flutter in your gut. “We should-”

“Watch it now?” His brows bobbed. “Well everyone?” Donnie looked out, carefree to his inebriated brethren. “Movie night?”

“I’m sleeping!” Raph announced. “Don’t wake me and we’re good.”

“But Don…!” Leo’s head fell onto where his arm was still on the table.

“I could watch.” Mikey’s shoulders bobbed beneath April.

“I’m out. Got work.” April yawned.

“Then it’s settled.” Donnie turned back to you. “Not that we needed permission.”

You chewed on a giggle. “Can’t wait.”

Everyone else dragged themselves back to the lair, but you and Donnie took up the rear as you discussed some lab work. Delving into the study you’d monitored over winter break and what came of it, you were soon sat around the projector where Splinter was asleep in his chair. Raph used the last of his energy carting his dad off to bed and Mikey settled into a bean bag with commands to turn his head towards the screen. Leo helped in that matter and set himself up with his phone in hand to hang out more than watch. You and April said your goodbyes and then Donnie joined you on the couch. Raph didn’t return until well past the first quarter of the movie, but didn’t seem to mind as he flopped down to watch a film presumably the family had seen many times before.

The room was filled with the quiet sounds of the movie until Donnie leaned into you. Your shoulders brushing, he whispered to you a fun fact about the movie that gave way to more. With your head turned against the cushion, you eventually stopped watching the film to instead stare at him. He was enthralling. His lips moved with specific enunciation that you knew came from his love of pizzazz. He topped it off with eloquence from IQ and his flair was infectious no matter how emotionless he tried to present himself.

You adored him.

The credits rolled and there was light after movie discussion where you all found Raph had fallen asleep as promised. Donnie regaled you in his theories on how this movie affected the larger Jupiter Jim universe while he threw a blanket over his older brother. Leo pitched in a few notes about his comic knowledge, but no matter how obsessed the Hamatos’ were in this film series, there was still a limit of how much conversation could be shared.

“Welp!” Leo announced, coming down from a stretch.

That was the second final call of the night.

You had already overstayed your welcome.

You pulled out your phone to text your parents.

Donnie touched your wrist. “Before I forget, I finished my latest project. That targeted hearing device.”

You slowed. “Oh yeah, were you able to work out that model on how it decides what to filter?”

“Yes, in fact, I had a breakthrough-!”

“You finished that two nights ago right? When you were pacing in that fit?” Leo interrupted.

Mikey perked up. “Oh yeah, you were so upset, but you wouldn’t say why! If it was just because you were doing your usual tech walk things, then why not tell us?”

Donnie had obvious guilt and raised his hands.

You stared.

Two nights ago was when you hadn’t been able to text him goodnight.

You were in motion and interjected yourself with force into the fray. “Show us!”

Leo and Mikey looked at you curiously.

You tried not to balk. “It was for you guys too! It will help you gather intel on missions!”

“I thought it was just for your goggles or business people who never take their Bluetooth out, even at dinner parties?” Leo quizzed Donnie.

“The applications are wide ranging! Why do you think I patented it?” Donnie held his head haughtily and headed toward his lab.

The line there went first Donnie and Leo paired where Donie was putting his all into convincing Leo of his inventions use and then you and Mikey who trailed behind in a conversation of your own.

You weren’t sure, but you thought the blue brother glanced at you twice.

Mikey regaled you on a video game he had recently beat and, by the time you entered the lab, Donnie was in full presentation mode. A space you had only been in virtually, Donnie walked everyone to where the buds were and tried them on Leo first since he was the naysayer. They proved to work nicely as you and Mikey played examples by moving around the lab to make noise for the technology to hone in on.

You remembered locations from your guided tour, but definition had been sparse over the phone. Now here and moving about, gadgets kept catching your eye. Donnie explained them with quips from his brothers about use or malfunction. You heard all manner of stories and saw a part of Donnie you had yet to see. Donnie was quick to hang up if his brothers tried to intervene, but he was no stranger to complaining about them. You felt like you knew them better than you did because of it, but seeing the brothers in action was something else entirely.

They carried through, soon fatiguing of reminiscing and giving space for Donnie to show off his more successful tech. He shined, putting his best foot forward in a way you assumed he prepared for investor meetings. He eventually let you examine his bo staff and demonstrated how it could be reformed within his ninpo. He was detailing how his schematics process had changed since acquiring his mystic powers when Leo suddenly yelled up to the ceiling.

“Nope! Beep, beep, beep! Hear that? That’s my brain at full capacity! No more! No more science for Leon! Honk-shoo! Bedtime alarm.” Leo threw his arms up and seemed ready to spin around to leave before he caught sight of you. “Great seeing you, by the way. We’ll be seeing you, but not again tonight! Later, losers!”

You all watched Leo walk out.

Mikey saw his own chance to pull away.

The youngest did nothing distinctly, but you could tell he was ready to head to bed himself.

You had been together for hours now and it was definitely the AM of the next day.

You needed to text your parents.

You needed to go home.

You’d see Donnie again.

You had one last time before you flew back across the country.

You got your phone in hand and messaged your parents to check in.

“Michael.” Donnie held his own anxiety.

That meant both remaining brothers were ready for you to go.

Having already proved to your parents you were alive, you moved to next pen a message about how you’d be home soon.

“Huh?” A bubble popped on Mikey’s attention.

“Have you checked the time?” Donnie moved away from you.

Looking up your screen found the time at 2:47am.

“Oh ho!” Mikey sang with scandalous purpose.

You paused and looked up to see him sporting a huge grin.

“I get what you’re putting down, brotha! It is the one and only reserved time for my most exclusive dish!” Mikey moved fluidly through a few poses.

“Yes.” Donnie looked pointedly at you. “You might have heard of it.”

You blinked a few times not realizing some kind of ploy was in motion. “Special time…?”

Sliding to the right, Mikey’s whole body dipped below his raised arms. “It is time for my unmatched, out of control, unparalleled 3am dump nachos!”

A memory slapped you across the hippocampus.

You did remember.

Mikey had sprung them on Donnie when he was helping you study for finals last year.

The Mikey of the present then snapped to attention in a business-like manner. “Proprietary reserved and guaranteed to eradicate night munchies.”

Your phone buzzed and beckoned with annoyed responses from your mom.

You’d thankfully never sent that message about heading back.

She knew you were doing alright, that was enough.

You closed your phone. “Who am I to say no to the clock!?”

“Nacho time!?” Mikey turned to confirm with the last party. “That was what you wanted, right?”

“Yes.” Donnie tried to stave off a certain amount of joy. “Nacho time.”

“Woo!” Mikey started to holler but caught himself off to whisper. “Quieter woo because people are sleeping!”

You all filed down to the kitchen where Mikey took point in commanding his own cooking show. Talking about all his past chip and cheese related mishaps, he walked through pantry staples and what wasn’t for good nachos. Donnie settled in by your side and eventually grabbed a few drinks. The pair of you mingled together, sharing little glances amongst Mikey’s display until the nachos were in the oven for a quick melt session.

“Oh man, this was a great idea.” Mikey looked at Donnie approvingly. “I can’t remember the last time we did 3am nachos.”

You did, but you kept quiet.

“Probably after April’s midnight launch at that movie theater.” There was an air to Donnie that said he was purposefully making something up.

“Eugh, was it one of those ones where they watch like six movies back to back?” Mikey made a face.

“Are those marathons bad?” You asked.

“They are when you can’t pause and do stuff like this.” Mikey gestured around the kitchen.

“Helps to be allowed an oven.” Donnie cocked a brow at you.

“It’s not my fault someone started a fire in the dorms a few years ago.” You shot a smarmy look back.

“Finesse.” Donnie’s fingers came up to floss the word.

“This again!” You rolled your eyes.

“The rules are in place to protect! As long as you don’t violate them obviously, then I don’t see the problem.”

“Your homemade oven thing was way sketchier!”

“You could make it out of all the materials you had on hand! It’s completely safe!”

“Just because one can, doesn’t mean one should!”

“Look! I can recreate it now! You never tried.” Donnie went for a junk drawing and came back with supplies. “The most you needed was wire, then a containment unit, easy enough to build…”

Donnie nearly pressed to your side as he cut and created a wire and then spliced it with a battery. Showing you how to then encase the coils, he asked for your help holding something in place. You did so and he eventually came around with electrical tape to bind his creation. He complained about how soldering should be allowed if hot glue guns were. You spoke against that point and your hands brushed. He scoffed at live flames and slipped his arm through yours in lieu of reaching for a piece of plastic that had rolled away. You pressed into him and told him that with that logic you could simply weld.

“Couldn’t you?” Donnie’s face was near yours.

“I’d need…” You reached up and his cheek tipped into your hand as you activated the release on his goggles as you’d seen him do on video.

His lenses came down and you were close enough to see through them to his eyes beneath.

“… something like this.”

“I see… Safety first…” Donnie murmured, leaning in.

“Mhm…” You mirrored him.

A timer dinged and you jolted apart.

“3am nachos!” Mikey came around with oven mitts as if oblivious. “After hearing both your arguments, I’m gonna go with no homebrewing ovens in the dorms. It looks like you’re building a bomb.” He set the tray down and the smell was undeniably delicious.

You might have enjoyed it more had your heart not been pounding out your ears.

“To the uneducated, perhaps!” Donnie grumbled and looked over the spread.

You moved to better reach and heard Mikey talk about the best constructed bite.

What were you doing?

You had almost kissed Donnie.

If that was what just happened.

Donnie.

You had a nacho in hand.

Donnie.

What you had to label as your newest best friend.

Donnie.

Not a replacement, but an embellishment.

Donnie.

Next to you, the man in question said something about guacamole.

He helped you through your semesters.

You still had 10 more after the current one.

Four total years.

That didn’t include masters which you aimed on getting.

On the other side of the states.

As far as possible in the continental US.

That was only the grand scale.

On a minor one, you’d be back there in only four days time.

You’d barely seen Donnie.

You’d also arguably spent more time with him in just seven months then you had lifetimes with some of the people you still happily called friends, but 90% of that time had been through an internet connection.

Donnie.

A chip entered your mouth and it tasted so good you wanted to weep.

It certainly wasn’t for any other reason.

Mikey’s cooking was that good.

Eating.

Eating was happening.

You tried to tune into what Donnie and Mikey were discussing.

Donnie had put his goggles back up on his head.

His eyes looked pretty as he talked to his brother.

They always seemed lazy in expression, but they caught so much.

They also took in nothing if he didn’t care to look.

He’d been looking at you.

Right through that red and blue glass.

The make-up of purple.

Mikey hummed an exhausted note. “Oh man… 5am already? Sun’s gonna be up soon…”

“That late?” Donnie asked absently.

At least your parents had gone to bed and wouldn’t hassle you.

They might because you were absolutely going to get home after they woke up for the day.

That was less than ideal.

You also had lunch plans.

What were you doing?

“I’m hitting the hay!” Mikey announced even though you were sure he’d said other things. “Hug for the road!”

Mikey hugged you and you were sure you hugged back.

“Finish those off or whatever. They don’t keep so toss ‘em! Night, D!”

“Night.” Donnie spoke.

Alone.

You were alone with Donnie.

You’d been avoiding this hadn’t you?

Both of you had.

“Still hungry?” Donnie spoke timidly.

“Sure.” You had barely had any.

You worked through building that perfect bite Mikey talked about and then went for some salsa Mikey had whipped up.

Donnie was right there with his own chip and your knuckles brushed.

You both froze and looked at each other.

You saw it all there.

The budding feelings.

The long distance.

The fear.

The longing.

“It’s too soon…?” Donnie broke away to look at the sheet pan. “Don’t you think?”

You did.

You know you did.

You were weepy as you nodded and ate more than necessary just because the taste helped abate the sadness.

Donnie offered to take you home in his own melancholy.

You’d barely experienced college.

You were so young.

In spite of knowing him so well, it wasn’t enough.

When he pulled over on the empty morning curb outside your apartment, sunlight was peering in on your exchange.

What would you do?

How would you say goodbye?

“Walk me to the door?” You asked.

“Of course.” He put the van into park and turned it off.

You walked side by side in silence up the stoop.

The moment you were both on the same level, you hugged him. Hard into his middle you squeezed him for all he was worth. Not to be outshined, you were similarly scooped. Donnie created a protective outer layer where his face buried down into the top of your head. You both siphoned as much of each other off as you could feeling like it would be the last.

Was that right?

It didn’t feel like it, but for right now it was hard to parse anything.

It was exciting to be close to him.

You hadn’t known when he offered to give you a ride that you’d tackle him right out of your airport gate.

You’d never hugged before that.

You’d never touched at all as far as you could remember.

All of this was sudden.

Too soon.

You rooted your face into Donnie’s plastron. “I’ll still see you Friday?”

“You’ll see me tomorrow if available.”

You blinked up wide right out of his chest.

“You’re on break. I want to make the most of it.”

This time you threw your arms around his neck and he hoisted you up into the hug. You laughed into it until he set you back down and your heads bumped together. Sting moving to cradle, you lingered against one another. You felt more then, how you were rushing. You were jumping to conclusions. You were deciding years down the line before being present in your own moment.

Too soon.

“Dinner.”

“It’s a date.”

You entered your apartment on a cloud nine bubble that even your parents couldn’t pop. It prevailed through your mother’s nagging and you finally catching blissful shut eye. You barely made your lunch appointment with your friend and were disheveled for it. They laughed at you and joked about a rough night. The unsuspecting victim who just happened to ask the wrong question at the right time, you unloaded on them. Not usually the type of friend for long talks, they took it in stride and came out like an MVP.

They gave you advice on how to proceed and shared how they themselves were doing long distance.

It wasn’t for everyone.

You were young.

You needed to prioritize you.

There was also a certain amount of trusting your gut.

All a tricky balance, you came away feeling optimistic and closer to your friend than before.

You also crashed as soon as you got home and had a screaming match with your mom when she returned from work to find you in bed. It was enhanced by you not telling her about your dinner plans, but it all felt like a certain amount of stride. It was par for the course with growing pains of your adulthood and you got yourself gussied up amongst it. Donnie came to get you and you felt whisked away where your dad sent you off in good humor.

You wished he fielded your mom, but you guessed you could only ask so much.

Your date was a romantic one. Dictated by closeness, you counted in touch. There were brushes to the hands that morphed to holds. He’d pressed your back to indicate he wanted to pull your chair out and would eventually pull you to his side when some drunk adults stormed by on the sidewalk. You snuggled close to him during a concession selection and later would rest your head on his shoulder during a movie. Afterwards when you lingered for a walk in twinkling night lights you spoke your feelings into reality and what to do.

You’d wait.

It was too soon.

There was so much more to see.

You didn’t feel sad about anything other than not being able to kiss him when he brought you home.

Those hugs were hard enough to break apart from.

Friday then came and went and this time you felt fully present amongst the Hamato. Sunita and Casey joined for a rowdy bunch and you felt strong enough to take over the entire city. You also were always placed by Donnie’s side whether it be by both your conscious choices or simply your draw to one another which earned some ire. Unlike the last hang out, you were validated and both breezily brushed it off with knowing smiles. That brought more confusion, but any and all were left guessing what your relationship was.

Your family and a huge friend group hangout took Saturday.

Then you packed with Donnie on a video call.

It was just like a week ago, but wholly new.

You wished him a somber goodnight and right before hanging up he asked to drop you off.

You would have to fend off your parents, but you decided you could oblige.

There was little complaint as the next morning your mom asked you point blank who the boy was. You admitted to them the events of the last seven months, mutation and all, which they took in various stages. What your dad heard mostly was your loneliness and how this guy had gone above and beyond to make you feel less so. That was enough for him and in a stern decision, he refused to be moved. It left your mom high and dry outside the marriage unit and she eventually sighed to dreamily say that was why she loved your father.

Comparisons were then made between them and your relationship with Donnie and you shut that down as quickly as you could.

Donnie was then there and in an impromptu parents meeting.

He was surprisingly adept at it and you had a feeling he was aware this would happen. You ended up drilling him on the way to the airport where he admitted he prepared for at least seven possible scenarios regarding him butting in on the airport drop off. He regaled you in them all until you were sick of his preparations and you were at the airport.

He walked you as far as he could.

You hugged.

It should have been scented with desperation, you thought.

Instead, it felt like a promise.

With the same clingy digging, he gave equal pressure to your waist as you gave his head. He clawed your back and you pulled at his mask tails. It caught puffs of laughter from both of you as you drank each other in. You knew his scent now, a specific one you wished to curl up in. You’d remember prolonging time together even when you talked to him on the phone, presumably as soon as you landed. You’d be exhausted and want to shower, but you’d make time. You liked to give it just as he’d do the same.

You parted.

With smiles that were plump with tears unshed, you waved to him and he lingered as long as he could. You thought he even might have continued past that and used his goggles for some x-ray business. In case he did, you metered your steps and kept looking back to send him more grins to log. He probably had a thousand already from the calls or even this week, but you’d give more. You boarded a plane and spring break ended.

Across the country you flew.

Back to school.

Back to work.

Through summer and an internship.

Opportunity and papers.

Talk of job and studies galore.

Late night calls and walls of text.

A flurry of messages.

Arguments.

Cold shoulders.

Apologies.

Fall Semester.

Winter break.

Spring Semester.

Spring break.

Rinse and repeat.

Donnie became your only airport ride. No matter when you came, everyone knew he was designated. It became common knowledge as much as anything else. As much as your friendship, everyone knew that was to be expected.

You grew.

Four years passed.

You found yourself yet again coming into LaGuardia on the cusp of spring. You had plans for furthering education on this side of the country. California had been nice, but Donnie had mentioned a study once that stuck with you. Eight in ten adults lived within 100 miles of where they grew up. It seemed like such a silly statistic four years ago when you’d made your college choice. You weren’t sure if you necessarily understood now, but there was a certain comfort in knowing you’d be in New York for the foreseeable future.

It helped that you grew up in such an amazing city.

What a town, Donnie would say reverent regardless of whether it was bad or good.

Shouldering your bag, you walked out to baggage claim. While the spot may have changed and the man was still growing like a weed, Donnie would still always appear to you between crowd waves. A sort of fate, he’d part pedestrians like the sea and he looked up from where he was tinkering with something on his gauntlet.

A smile spread on his face and he was in motion.

You had to keep up.

A hop and a skip and you collided in a spin. Twirling out for the sake of it, you both murmured affections until he rooted your face out from his shoulder. There he dipped you first for the sake of flair, but brought you up to properly execute what came next.

Your hands tucked behind his neck.

He locked his arms around your waist.

His gaze poured over you.

You tugged him lightly as he was taking his time.

He was hovering, no doubt committing all of this to memory.

You didn’t fault him; you had started dating a few weeks ago.

He’d blurted out the question saying he was unable to wait until spring break or even until you graduated with your undergrad.

You were long past first kiss territory, but this would be the first with the label.

“Donatello.”

“Not to be confused with the famous Italian sculptor.” He staunchly said the same thing he had since the moment he’d first introduced himself.

“Please.”

“Please what?” He jeered.

“Kiss me, dum-dum.” You pulled him as hard as he’d allow and he snuck in a laugh before your lips met.

You would always appreciate this time of year for its change.

��Follow me or my Ao3 for more fanfiction! Behind the scenes deep dive for this fic and others along with in-depth writing discussions, plot bunnies, and more are available for only 1$ over on my patreon~ 💜

My betas are such champs, they follow me for any type of work! All the love to @tmntxthings (look familiar 😒) and @thepinkpanther83

#me #rottmnt #rottmnt donnie x reader #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #fanfiction #my fanfiction

229 notes · View notes

cameronspecial · 6 months

Text

A New Kind Of Normal (Part 3)

Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Fight With A Parent, Swearing, and Fear of Relapse

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.0K

Summary: Rafe has accomplished his goals and is now able to meet his daughter for the first time.

Masterlist

Over the past month, Rafe has gotten a chance to learn more about Stella from his weekly meetings with Y/N. Stella was born on May 17th, 2020 at 10:59 A.M. Her first word was Joshy, said at eleven months old when she was calling for help from her uncle Josh when her uncle Benedict would mercilessly tickle her. At two years old, she became obsessed with witches after her mother read her a book about them and it has been her favourite topic of conversation since. Her favourite colour is dark purple and her favourite food is any soup in general because she likes to pretend she is drinking a witch's potion when she eats it. The most important fact of all to Rafe: Stella Rachel Y/L/N is his little girl’s full name. Y/N had tried her best to come up with a name close to Rafe, but all the names closer she found on the internet didn’t go with Stella. Nonetheless, the action still touched him when Y/N told him that was the reason.

And now, he’ll finally get to meet his little star. His hand fidgets with the small nob on his watch, making the hands go clockwise and counterclockwise. He watches as Y/N reads over his toxicology report. She didn’t require him to do a weekly toxicology report to prove that he was staying sober, but he wanted to show her she could trust him. The logical part of him knows she won’t say that he can’t meet Stella, yet a small part of him fears she might.

The small smile she gives him relieves him of his anxiety, “This is great, Button. I’m so proud of the work you put into staying sober.” Forming a friendship with Y/N was another amazing thing that happened this month. When she started using the nickname she gave him the night Stella was conceived, he felt the air leave his lungs just like it does now. “Thanks. I was really scared that I might relapse this week after I got into an argument with my dad, but I called Diana, did some breathing exercises and looked at my picture of Stella. It all helped me get through it,” he replies truthfully. He had truly felt fear that week when he found himself on the road towards Barry’s trailer. Luckily, he was able to fight through his desire and pull over the car before he got there. Y/N nods and reaches out to place a reassuring hand on his, “Well, I’m glad you were able to recognize your craving and reach out for help with managing it. So do you want to come over after we finish our coffee?”

His lips stretch so far apart that people would think he is the Joker. He pulls out his phone to check his schedule, “No, I won’t have enough time to go home and change if I come tonight. I also need to get her a few things before I meet her. How about tomorrow afternoon? Is that okay?” “You know you don’t have to make a big deal about this with the changing and the gifts. As long as you love her and show her that love, she is going to reciprocate those feelings,” Y/N argues.

“I know, I just… Meeting her is all I have been dreaming about for the last month and I want it to be perfect. Plus, it really couldn’t hurt to get her a few bribery toys.”

“I understand how you feel. When Benny came home the week before Stella was born with the wrong colour paint for her room, I almost threw a chair at him. I wanted Finch yellow, but he got funky yellow. It didn’t matter that they were virtually the same colour. I just need her room to be exactly how I planned it. So you can come over tomorrow. Just don’t buy her too many toys.”

“I can’t be held to a gift-buying limit. I have to make up for five years.”

——

Y/N watches as Stella tries to get ready by herself, thinking about what is going to happen in just ten minutes. “Mommy, help, please,” Stella cries out for help. Y/N’s focus returns to her daughter and she has to stop herself from laughing. Stella has gotten her shirt stuck on her head because she has been trying to get her head through the armhole. Y/N approaches the young girl and helps put her head through the right hole. “You were almost there, Stells. I’m proud of you,” she praises, giving the little girl a kiss on the head. Stella shouts a thank you as she runs into her mom’s room.

Y/N follows her daughter to her room and carries Stella over to the bed. Once Stella is safely on the bed, Y/N turns toward her dresser to get her perfume. “One tiny spray for this wrist,” Y/N pushes the top of the perfume so the scent falls on her daughter’s wrist. “And one tiny spray for the other. Now, you are ready to go. Why don’t you wait in the living room for Mommy’s special guest to arrive.” The little girl runs off as her mother suggested and Y/N is left alone in her room. She looks at herself in her mirror, wondering how her life is going to change once Stella meets her dad. It’s not that Y/N doesn’t trust Rafe, he has shown her that he really is trying. It’s that Stella isn’t going to be solely Y/N’s anymore. She will have to share some parenting duties with Rafe and it feels strange for her to do that. She is the one who stayed up with Stella when she was puking all night last year. She is the one who would read the little girl a bedtime story every day. She is the one Stella goes to when she is scared. Now, Y/N is going to have to learn to let Rafe do those things too.

Rafe nervously wipes the sweat off of his palm and adjusts the hat on his head. The time on the clock shows he is five minutes early, but he can’t wait any longer. He knocks on the door and rocks on the balls of his feet. The door creaks open, yet Rafe is met with an empty doorway. It is only when he looks down that he sees the perfect little star staring up at him with her brilliant blue eyes. “Stella Rachel Y/L/N, what have I told you about answering the door to strangers?” Y/N scolds, walking into the room with an adorable motherly look. Stella looks back at her mother with a pouty look, “I’m sorry, Mommy. But I knows we were going to have a special guest.”

Rafe is in awe at how adorable she is, but he takes this as his chance to do the first fatherly act he will ever do. “Your mother is right, Stella. What if I was a stranger?” he poses, kneeling down to her level. She gives him wide eyes, “But you weren’t. You are the man who Mommy yelled at.” Her words cause pain to shoot through his heart. The first memory his little girl has of him is his argument with her mother. Y/N can see the hurt that crosses Rafe’s face and beckons the pair away from the doorway. “Yes, he is, Baby. But he apologized to Mommy and we are friends again. Did you see his hat?” Y/N points out. The small blue eyes move from his face up to his head and her eyes turn to delight. “You’re wearing a witch’s hat!” she exclaims, reaching up to her father’s head to try it on. “Can I try it on, please?” Glad that his conversation start is working, he takes the hat off and places it on her tiny head. Everyone giggles as the big hat falls over her eyes.

Now, that the ice has been sufficiently broken, Y/N decides it is time to make the introduction Rafe has been waiting for. “Stella, do you know why I asked my special friend to come visit?” Y/N sits on the couch, bringing Stella on her lap. The little girl shakes her head and rests it on her mother’s chest. “He’s your Daddy, Baby.” The excitement in his daughter’s eyes as she turns toward him sends him over the moon. The tiny girl flings herself into her arms and screams his new name. He never thought someone would call him those words, but now it’s the only one he wants to hear. “Does that mean you can play witch with me? I have a hat you can borrow.” With her now in his arms, he can smell the familiar vanilla fragrance of Y/N’s perfume. It makes him smile that she wants to be just like her mommy. Before he can answer, she runs off to her room to get her toys. She returns dragging a big plastic cauldron behind her. Rafe feels his father's instinct kick in. He jumps off of the couch and runs over to pick her and the cauldron up in his arms. Stella looks at him in awe, “Wow, my Daddy is super strong.” This absolutely kills him and he kisses her on the cheek.

——

Y/N, Stella and Rafe have spent the afternoon playing various games their daughter wanted to play. When it got closer to dinner time, the three of them worked together to make something to eat. “Button, can you please pour me some more water?” Y/N asks, holding up her glass for him to do it. He picks up the water pitcher and pours it for her, “Of course, Buttercup.” Stella may be three and eleven months old, but she is very observant. Throughout the afternoon, she noticed the tiny glances Rafe would send Y/N’s way. She noticed how his hand would reach to find her skin, yet it never seemed to land. She noticed how he would always ask for Y/N’s approval. And just now, she saw how his lips formed a massive smile because of her mother’s attention.

The small girl starts to form a plan in her head; she can see how much her father is pining for her mother. He clearly needs her help. “Mommy, I like Daddy’s hair. Do you?” she questions, looking back and forward between her parents. Y/N looks up from her food to look at Rafe, “I do like his hair. It looks nice when the front of his hair falls down like a little curtain.” He stops mid-stab of the pasta to look up at her through his lashes. “I’ll take note of that then, Buttercup,” he brings his hand up to hide the blush on his cheeks. Stella is very satisfied with the results of the beginning of her plan. She feels like a genius. Y/N doesn’t know that she is going to regret letting Stella watch Hallmark movies with her.

——

After dinner, Rafe is preparing for the roughly hour-and-a-half drive back to the Outer Banks. Stella is holding on to Rafe for dear life because she isn’t ready for him to go. “Mommy, why can’t Daddy stay?” she begs, looking at her mother sadly. Y/N frowns at her daughter, “I’m sorry, Baby. Not yet, there is nowhere for him to sleep. Plus, Daddy has work tomorrow and you have daycare.” Rafe can see the struggle Y/N is having with saying no to Stella and he helps her out. “How about I go over to the diner on Friday? I’ll be there when you get back from daycare. Maybe I’ll even have a surprise,” he offers, whispering the last part in her ear.

The darling’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree and loosens her arms from his neck. “Okay! I can’t wait to see you. Bye, Daddy. I love you,” she bids adieu. She hops down from his arms and runs to get ready for bed. The quicker she goes to bed, the faster Friday comes. Rafe calls back I love you. The two adults laugh at the child as they watch her run off. The laughter dies down and Y/N turns her body toward Rafe. “It’s okay that I come by on Friday, right?” Rafe confirms with a hopeful smile.

“Of course, as long as you are sober, I won’t stop you from seeing her. The extra business is good too.”

“Haha, I’ll make sure to deposit my paycheck before I go in then. Also, please let me know if you need anything. Money for food, rent, toys, clothes, tuition. Anything, okay. I want to pull my weight. She’s my daughter too.”

“I will, I promise. Thank you for coming over tonight. You made her day.”

They both look at each other for a second and then notice the time. “I should probably get going. It’s getting late,” Rafe concludes, taking a step closer to the door. Y/N tries to hide her slight disappointment, “Uh, yeah. Drive safe. See you on Friday.” Rafe nods his head and opens the door. “See you on Friday.” Y/N stays by the door as she watches Rafe walk down her driveway. She waves goodbye to him as he gets into his car and drives away. Once he is out of sight, she closes the door and reflects on the day. It was strange to have Rafe there, but she doesn’t regret the decision. She saw how much he cared for Stella and it solidified the idea in her mind that he is meant to be a father. This is a new kind of normal that she can get used to.

——

Since Sarah and Rafe moved out of Tannyhill, Ward insisted on having family dinner every week. Everyone knows Sarah’s departure is the main reason why Ward wanted to do so, especially since Ward tried to have just Sarah come to dinner. However, thanks to Sarah, Ward gave in to inviting Rafe. Most dinners start with Ward getting small talk with Rafe about work out of the way before he moves on with asking Sarah about a full second-by-second breakdown of her week. And this Wednesday is not any different, but Rafe has something else other than work to talk to his dad about.

“Actually, Dad, there is something I want to talk to you about,” Rafe brings to the table, looking Ward dead in his eyes. Ward stops chewing, not really expecting Rafe to have anything else to say. Ward tilts the end of his fork toward Rafe, “Okay, what is it?” “I have a daughter. Her name is Stella. She is three years old, almost four. And she looks exactly like me,” Rafe gets everything out in one go. He may have known about Stella for a month now, but he didn’t want to tell his family until he knew he could step up and be the person his daughter needed. This causes everyone at the table to freeze and look at Rafe in surprise. Ward’s eyes narrow; his brows become one. “What do you mean?” he gets out in a rough tone.

“I mean that five years ago, I had sex with Y/N and she had a baby nine months after that. I didn’t know about Stella until last month. I didn’t want to tell you guys until I was a month sober and certain that I could be there for her.”

“You better tell me that this is a joke because I can’t believe that you could be that much of a screw-up. How do you even know she is your daughter?”

“I told you, she looks exactly like me.”

“How do you know that’s not because you want to believe she does? How do you know that bitch isn’t lying to you? You were so useless that you didn’t even get a paternity.”

Rafe stands up at what Ward calls Y/N and points a finger at his father. “You have no right to call her that. I know she isn’t lying because I trust her. I won’t make her get a paternity test,” he yells. Ward lets out a low chuckle, “Okay, fine. Do whatever you want. But I’m going to need you to get a lawyer and write up a contract for child support if that’s what the bitch is after. There is no way you are actually going to raise that kid.” “You need to stop calling the mother of your granddaughter a bitch. And why can’t I raise my daughter? You are always telling me I need to take responsibility and I am. Why can’t you just be proud of me?” he argues, his anger getting to a whole other level. The other members of the dinner see that this fight is not about to end any time soon, so Sarah steps in. “Dad, stop. This isn’t going anywhere. And you should be proud of Rafe. He overcame his addiction just so that he could be a better father. That’s amazing and I’m proud of him for that. I, for one, am excited to meet my niece,” Sarah reasons. Wheezie butts in too, “I want to meet Stella too.” Rafe gives them a thankful smile but gets up angrily.

“Thank you guys for your support. I’ll talk to Y/N to find out when you can meet Stells. Dad, I wish I could say that I am surprised but I’m not,” he begins. “No matter what I do, I will never compare to Sarah and I won’t force you to meet your granddaughter. I think I’m going to go. Goodbye.” Rafe storms out of the house and slams the door. He gets to his truck and is about to drive away, yet he knows he shouldn’t. If he goes now, he is scared it will lead him to Barry’s. Instead, he pulls out his phone and dials a number that recently entered his contacts. “Hey, Button. Is everything okay?” Her voice is like a light guiding him back to home base. He vehemently shakes his head, “No, I’m not. Do you have time to talk?” Y/N immediately stops what she is doing and gives him her full attention for the whole night.

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @drewstarkeyswifehoe @kisstaya @magicalyoura @mp-littlebit @loverfu55ii @dark1paradise @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @alyisdead @emeloyy @js-a-writer

200 notes · View notes