#with the occasional hot black woman/man

[dyketubbo]

trying to find good cc for sims 4 that doesnt just focus on making the sims Hot and Attractive is like scouring through a desert

[dejwrldarchived]

⤷‧₊˚ could you imagine having a wet dream about your hot neighbor?

┊ •° ੈ ⋆° ┊ warning readers discretion is advised — female anatomy described, her/she pronouns, written with black reader in mind, pet names (good girl), oral fixation, oral (f.receiving), dirty talk, biting kink, backshots/doggystyle position, spanking, anal play (i mean he put a thumb in it that's it), marking kink, profanity, i think we should write smut about men in explicit mangas some more, mentions of a wet dream, wet dream is in italics, slight pervert!reader, repost from old account, mdni

You couldn't help but stare at him when you saw him. You remembered how your eyes lit up with curiosity seeing him move into the apartment next to yours. An apartment with many tenants who moved in and soon quickly moved out. A rumor traveled around that a ghost resided in that apartment, but you never cared to gossip about said rumor. You just went to work and came home. It was a sad cycle that you’ve done Monday through Friday. Occasionally when you would be leaving for work, you'd see him. The bags under his eyes are as heavy as he’s taking his trash out to put into the apartment’s trash bin. His whole demeanor oozed sex appeal even though he would be the type of man your parents would usher you to stay away from. 

He was a handsome man, and when you laid down to sleep, you only seethed in jealousy, hearing faint moans through the thin walls. A regular neighbor would march over and bang on the door to tell their neighbor to keep it down—but with you, it felt like your body was stuck. You stared at the ceiling indulging in the sound of the way he pleasured this woman. That jealous pit twists in your stomach, realizing that you have most likely been crushing on a taken man this whole time. But it didn’t make sense, you hadn’t seen a woman enter or exit his place when you were around. Either or, you still thought that it should have been you to have the privilege of cooing out his name the way this woman was. 

You could do better. You know you can. 

You may have been in a significant drought, but you were positive your plush lips could kiss him better. Your mouth could wrap around his cock better. You could move your hips while riding him better. But then again, this woman had to have something you didn’t if he was making her feel like this every night. 

You took your pillow over your head to scream into it. The heated feeling between your thighs caused you to roll over on your side to force yourself to sleep. You were only torturing yourself by continuing to be a pervert and listening to him pleasure another woman. Before you could utter a string of complaints to yourself, your body finally relaxed for you to fall into a deep slumber—a poor attempt at ignoring the walls through the paper-thin walls. 

Your body stirred in your sleep as you felt something under the thin lilac-colored duvet that covered your body. You felt something wet upon your thighs as if somebody was nibbling on the flesh on the inside area of your thighs. You attempted to squirm tiredly, but the grip upon you grew tighter. With your hand rubbing the sleep out of your eye, you lifted the duvet, and your eyes nearly bulged out your head seeing him. His eyes filled with so much hunger it sent a chill down your spine. With the oversized t-shirt you usually sleep in pushed up to your waist, you watched as the flat of his tongue glided upward and downward on the clothed part of where your pussy lips were. Even though your underwear was blocking the pleasure feeling of his tongue—you still felt yourself grow wet at the feeling. 

Your next-door neighbor Totsumoto Yuushi didn’t waste any time dragging your fusion-colored panties down your smooth legs to get a taste of you. The flat of his tongue dragged across your puffy pussy lips just to finally relinquish in the taste of you. His darkened eyes met with yours through the little light that shimmered through the window from the moon. You relaxed in his touch as soon as you felt the first flicker on your clit. Your breathing hitches in your throat before you cough up moans and your fingers tangle into his black hair. Before your eyes lolly in the back of your head, the last glimpse you got was of Totsumoto’s eyes shifting close as he finally wanted to focus on his main task. 

Totsumoto’s tongue glides around the entrance of your drooling cunt, and he even could feel you clench, feeling him teasing you. Your thighs were seizing close due to the intense feeling of him between your thighs, but he just pinned them back open. You even heard him moan as he continued to eat his meal. He didn’t leave a drop of slick for him not to savor. The blood rushing to his cock with each kitten lick he’s making on your pussy or each flicker and suck on your sensitive bud. Your juices stained his face, but he could care less when it was a mouthwatering meal right before him. 

Your body arched off the mattress as you failed to run away from your pending orgasm. Your stomach began to form the most satisfying knots for Totsumoto to untie, but he pulled it away. He shortly let his lips drag kisses and bites on the inside of your thighs. He removed himself away from your pussy with a satisfying pop. 

“I want you to cum on this dick, Y/N.” His voice rasps. “I know you want the same thing, right?” Totsumoto tilts his head to the side slightly as if he’s letting his head rest on your bite marks-covered thigh, and his eyes never stop looking at you. 

Totsumoto’s words hit you like a truck with each continued kiss and bite. Your brain felt like complete mush as you realized he snatched your orgasm away from you in the blink of an eye. With his cock on hard, he kisses up your body until his face is just inches away from yours. Him being on top of you but also sure not to squash you. You could feel his cock on the inside of your thigh. Just by how it felt—you could tell it was fat. You’ve had your perverted thoughts during a hot morning imagining how his cock looked. Was it long? Was it girthy? Was he circumcised? How pretty was the tip? You’ve asked yourself that constantly. 

He’ll inch closer to your lips. Through your stare of desperation for him, you watched him lick his lips—savoring in the aftertaste of your pussy before he spoke once more, “How’d you want it? Since you’ve been a good girl while I was between your thighs….” 

Teasingly, he’s letting his teeth nibble on your plump lower lip instead of giving you the satisfaction of a heated kiss. 

“I’ll let you choose.” He adds. 

And that’s how you whine up on all fours with a perfect arch and your cunt eager to swallow Totsumoto’s cock. You figured that if you were to do missionary, you’d become cock drunk for the gentleman immediately. His callous hands grabbed at your waist, dragging you closer to him; you could feel the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance. “Just relax, pretty, sure you fit around me perfectly,” Totsumoto assured.

He’s collecting saliva in his hand to coat his girthy cock with, even though he could see how wet you were for him through his dark locs that fell in his face. His hand gripped your waist, similar to how a person would with some bike handles. He completely braced himself for the waterfall he was about to experience. First, he’s shoving his tip in—slowly, just so you can get used to it, savor it. A wonderful feeling he could get used to. Second, he’s gradually shoving move of his cock inside you. This time he’s taking note of how your manicured fingers grasped at the sheets. 

“I thought you could take my cock, hm?” He’ll teasingly ask. 

You couldn’t even answer his question before he’s immediately plowing forward. No regard for getting used to his size when the wet cunt in between your thighs was enthusiastic for more. You’ll moan out his name like a song you knew from heart. The lewd sound of heated skin slapping against each other adding on to your tune of moans. It created a sweet melody that Totsumoto enjoyed hearing. It motivated him to fuck just a little better, a little harder. 

Your pillow was beginning to stain with your salty tears with each ram of his hips. You only had the opportunity to let out broken moans that bounced upon the thin walls of your bedroom. Your hand went back behind you to slow down his abrupt thrusting, but that only led to him swatting your hand away as if it were a fruit fly flying around a garbage can. At this point, you had lost count of how many times the two of you had cum. The sticky mess that imprinted your thighs didn’t stop Totsumoto from continuing what he was doing. The white ring that decorated his cock only turned him on even more. His eyes lazily droop to gaze at your pussy, swallowing his cock. It was an intoxicating feeling how you were clutching around him. Which each pull back on his cock—he could feel you tremble. Hurriedly, wanting to run away from his jabs but ever so eager for him to fill you up some more. 

“You were waiting to feel my cock weren’t you?” He growled lowly. He noticed you didn’t answer his question, only purring out desperate moans. The dark-haired male took that as a challenge. His large hands that once were on your plush love handles would press down your back, ensuring that you wouldn’t break the perfect arch. 

Totsumoto’s fingertips trace alongside the flesh of your ass. His hand slaps at it, and his actions' ripple effect causes his cock to twitch inside you. His body felt like he was running a fever so hot that he could most likely faint. His jet-black strands of hair were sticking to his sweat-coated forward, but even if his hair drooped low in front of his intoxicating deadpan eyes—he still couldn’t take them away from the mess between the two of your bodies. His strokes were beginning to grow sloppy as his body finally overheated due to his lewd actions. 

You knew that the older gentleman was so close to cumming. His grip on your waist tightens, completely entrapping you from running away from his brash thrusting. It took you by shock feeling his thumb insert instantly into your asshole. Your body tensed up, and he leaned down to place the sloppiest set of kisses on your back. “It’s just a thumb unless you want it to be something else.” He hungrily said. 

His words sent a frightening yet exhilarating chill down your spine. Your fingers grasped the crumpled sheets on your mattress as you met his thrusting halfway until the both of you were a cumming mess. You’ve had your fair share of sleeping with men. From horrible hookups to the best lovemaking, no one ever made you feel like this when you were orgasming. You felt like you were on the highest cloud attempting to climb down all by yourself. Your limbs quivered with each sloppy cum coated slam upon your ass, and your moans became so frantic that someone would have thought you were speaking in tongue. The messy mess that imprinted the two of your skin wasn’t as bad as the mess when his cock hesitantly removed itself from you. Totsumoto’s thick cum dripped out of your cunt as he let your body collapse on the mattress below you like a personal used fleshlight. You could hear his breathing returning to normal as he let his fingertips drag alongside your sweat-coated body parts. 

“Sleep tight. You’re going to need it for when I return.” His words came out like a whisper.

When his fingertips left your body, you felt cold without his touch. You were utterly addicted to his touch, and you needed more. However, your shaken limbs and depleted body said otherwise.

Exhaustion overcame your body as the only thing that could be heard in the room was the sound of you trying to control your breathing. Your eyes became droopy, and you realized that he just gave you the best dick you could imagine, that you instantly fell into a deep slumber.

The annoying sound of your alarm caused your eyes to open instantly. Your phone was practically yelling at you to get up to start your day. When you pressed the snooze button on your phone, you glanced at the time. You still have a couple more minutes—perhaps you can attempt to fall asleep to continue the dream. Your panties already were damp, and your nipples hardened in anticipation due to it, but no matter how comfortable you got or how tightly squeezed shut your eyes were—you couldn’t fall back into that deep slumber. There you were, staring at the ceiling, thinking about him, and once again, the horrible feeling of him not being able to pleasure you outside of your perverted wet dreams swirled around in your mind. 

A knock could be heard from your front door, causing your thoughts to disappear— just like the dream you had last night. You climbed out of bed to answer the door, mumbling coherent words about who could be visiting you so early. It was most likely another salesman that wanted to sell something. You opened your front door, and all the annoyance in your body disappeared. There, your neighbor Totsumoto Yuushi stood at your door holding a box. 

Your words were stuck in your throat as your fingers toyed with the ends of the oversized t-shirt you wore to bed. Totsumoto’s eyes traveled down your body, staring at your boobs, and he took a mental note of how your nipples poked through the thin fabric of the t-shirt you were wearing. He cleared his throat to clear out the tension in the air. 

“The delivery guy put this outside my door, and it belongs to you.” Totsumoto’s deep voice croaked out. 

“Thank you.” Your arms extended for him to drop the package in your arms.

Instead, he wiggled past the small gap between you and your cracked door and directly placed your package in your house. He walked out of your apartment and glanced down at you. The scent of him went by you, and you could feel your knees weaken. 

“I’m going to get going now. If you need anything, just knock on my door.” His lips form a sly smile before he walks down to his apartment. 

You closed the door when he was no longer in your eyesight. Your back pressed upon the door as you slowly slid down it—if only he could get you the one thing you wanted the most. 

And that was for your wet dream to come true vividly. 

[bel1ewrites]

Booth Five (Sam Carpenter x Reader)

A/n: Here's another one, love you guys.

WC: Idfk

Warnings: smut, top!Sam, bossyish!reader, slightly public sex, thigh riding, more thigh riding, Sam in fancy work clothes

NUMEROUS visits to her favorite place after a long, hard day of work had forced Sam's ears to grow accustomed to the deafening thunder of sensual music that pumped through the hazy club.

Ever since the very first week of her new life in the the city, Sam had made sure to become somewhat of a regular at The Vanity. She made sure to commit each and every worker to memory, even went out of her way to tip a little extra every visit. It was just who she was. She loved to pay attention, and she loved to be aware.

She did not, however, love to be confused.

From her spot on a cracked leather couch, she sits with a drink in her hand, the top few buttons of her shirt undone, and she watches you move. The colored lights run over your body like waves on a shore, black lace the only thing stopping you from being fully exposed. It's euphoric, the way you move. It's familiar and free, icy hot. Sam takes a pull of her drink.

------

"You've got a private booking, honey," your boss calls as you fuss with your hair in the vanity mirror. She's a firecracker of a woman, short and curvy. The voice of a smoker mixed with the tone of a caretaker. "Booth five."

It hadn't taken you long to understand the inner workings of your place of employment. Annoyingly, nothing was ever straightforward, and booth five was not an exception to this rule.

You'd learned that an hour with one of the dancers in booth five had to cost more than your rent; which, albeit, didn't say much. It was the coldest spot in the whole club, nothing but dark red walls and a single black couch, and you couldn't really tell if it was the air vents or the dark aura that made you shiver when you passed it.

This is the first time anyone has requested for you to be in there.

"Um," your voice is steady as you turn around, smoothing a hand over non existent fabric out of nervous habit, "Is it cool if Amber takes this one?"

A beat passes.

"The patron requested for it to be you." If she notices the way your heart drops, she doesn't mention it. Only smiles crookedly and nods, effectively dismissing you from the comfort of being alone.

The beat of your heart doubles that of the music as you walk out of the room, a little unsure and a little irratic. Your heels feel too tall, your chest too tight.

Dancing was different. Dancing didn't bring forth any unwanted social interaction. Sure, there was the occasional creep, but they never really bothered you much when you could tune them out with thoughts of being beneath your covers with hot Chinese food and your cat curled up on your lap.

This was intimate. This was private and there was really no practical way of getting out of it.

You're sure you're going to pass out when you reach the outside of the booth, nothing but a thin curtain separating you from the unknown man waiting inside. Is he married? Is he demanding? Does he expect anything more than a lap dance from you?

A job is a job, you remind yourself, breathing deeply once, twice before stepping inside.

The air is charged. Static pulses around you. So its a woman. There's a woman a few feet in front of you.

She sits there, back against the couch and legs spread like she owns the place, shirt slightly unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up. She's tall and dark and has the look of someone who's grown accustomed to getting what she wants one way or another. Her eyes drop down your figure, lingering at certain parts unabashedly. They run over every inch of you slowly, methodically. She wets her lips.

"Hello." She speaks. Her voice is fire and ice. It's raspy and smooth, dark and calculated and so insanely perfect that it makes your ears ring a little.

It's your turn to say something, anything, really. You really do try to greet her, even open your mouth for a second before promptly shutting it again.

"It's reasonable to expect a greeting after one says hello, is it not?" Her brow raises. It seems that all it takes for you to gain your composure is a little confrontation.

You close the still open door and take a step forward, trapping a palpable tension in the room along with the sound of muffled music.

"Sorry about that, I just wasn't expecting... this." Amusement flashes in her eyes. "You weren't expecting a woman?" She questions, patting the space beside her and signaling for you to sit.

There's room for her to scoot over and create a comfortable amount of space between your bodies, but that doesn't seem like something she wants.

Your body moves without your mind's consent, "no, I wasnt," you answer, taking your seat.

She hums, the scent of her cologne wafting over you like a drug. "Disappointed?" she asks, bottom lip puffed out in a teasing pout.

The couch is cold beneath you, but that doesn't stop the fire from rushing to your cheeks. Nervously, you run a hand through your hair and smile, trying not to let her undeniable smoothness get in the way of yours.

"Oh, hardly," you let out a raspy huff of laughter and you can't help the way your eyes flit to her mouth.

A smirk tugs at her lips, pout dropping entirely. "Well aren't you fiery."

"Why did you ask for me?" you pry, gaze hooded.

"Why wouldn't I?" She questions, tone serious and eyes on yours. The air feels thick around you.

She truly is a beautiful woman, silky black hair and dark eyes surrounded by thick lashes. The muscles in her arms pull at the fabric surrounding them. You suddenly feel underdressed.

"Amber normally takes this booth," you offer truthfully.

Amber was a favorite amongst the club. She was all dark smiles and sinful moves. You appreciated her for her wit and ability to seem completely calm at all times; a skill you wish you had.

Her hand drops to the bare flesh of your upper thigh. "I didn't ask for Amber, did I?"

Sam had interacted with the girl numerous times. She'd been working here since that first night and was undoubtedly beautiful, but she didn't feel drawn to Amber like she did you. Her body didn't light up when she saw her like it did with you. You were different.

"What's your name?" you pry.

The heat of her gaze along with that of her palm on your thigh sends jolts down your spine. You can see the muscles in her jaw move as she grits her teeth, swallowing hard.

"Sam."

"Why did you ask for me?" you ask again, eyes on her dark and blown pupils. Your own gaze is hooded, lashes low as you look up at her.

She smiles wolfishly, teeth flashing. "Can't a girl want to get to know someone?"

"Well," you look down at her mouth, "I guess when you put it that way."

The air around you seemed to grow thick, tension lacing through it. Her aura was intoxicating, the way it consumed you so quickly, made you want to give her everything.

She hums, tightening her grip on your thigh, "For such a pretty girl you sure do ask a lot of questions," the words fall from her lips, tone low and dripping with want.

"Yeah?" You smile.

"Yes." She shoots back.

"Really?"

She ignores you, looking at you so intensely you almost think you did something wrong.

"Can I kiss you?"

You nod, maybe a little too eagerly but you can't help it. When she kisses you it's softer than you expect it to be, like she's testing the waters. Her hand runs up your thighs, teases its way to your hip and squeezes the flesh there. It makes your head spin and your heart race, heat settling in your lower stomach.

Teeth graze your bottom lip as she pulls back a little. "Come here," The woman breathes into your mouth. She guides you onto her lap, smiling and leaning further into the couch. You have to arch forward to kiss her again, something that isn't an accident on her part.

Hands grip at your waist, your hips, your ass. She's deepening the kiss like it's pushing life into her and she can't get enough. it's a needy, panting scene as her lips and tongue slide over yours.

She kisses you like you've never been kissed, skill and need intertwining into a moment that makes you dizzy. She's all soft lips and rough teeth, nipping and sucking and soothing.

The musky scent of her cologne messes with your head and you can't stop your hips from moving, seeking pressure to tame the heat inside of you.

She trails her lips down to your neck, hand pulling at your hair to tilt your head back. "That's it, baby," Sam coos, teeth scraping under your jaw, "use my leg." She shifts the two of you before you can do anything, moving you to straddle her thigh. Her lips latch onto a sensitive spot on your neck as she pushes her leg up and into you.

"Fuck," you gasp out, gripping her shoulders and arching further into her. The position gives her mouth easy access to your chest.

The fabric of your lace bra is easy for her to move to the side, baring your hardened nipple to her.

"You're so pretty," She groans beneath you, pressing her tongue to the sensitive bud.

Pleasure shoots through you and you suppress a moan at the feeling of her skilled mouth against you. She's pulling at your hips, guiding their movements as you rock into her. It's hard to remember where you are, how any of your coworkers can walk in if they want to. All you can think about is how muscular her leg is through her pants as it presses into your clit in just the right way, how strong her hands are as they grasp at your body like it's her lifeline.

It's almost embarrassing, how worked up this stranger has you. She's touching you like she knows your body, and you can feel your wetness soaking through your fabric. Truth be told, you'd been wet since she first spoke, voice smokey and addicting.

She sucks your tit into her mouth, tongue lashing at your nipple and you have to push her away before you get loud. She protests as you send her back to leaning against the couch, but ultimately keeps quiet when you bury your head in her neck to muffle your moans.

"That's it, just like that pretty girl," She whispers in your ear while you grind against her, leg rubbing your clit just right each time. "You sound so pretty."

Needy whines and sighs escape your throat, lips pressed to her neck while she pushes her thigh harder into you. She hums at the feeling, sound deep and rasped.

You would be disappointed in yourself for being so close this fast, and over the clothes no less, but you can't feel anything other than the pressure in your lower stomach building and building.

"It's so good," you admit breathily into her neck, nails digging into her upper back through the button up. You can feel the firm muscles there, and you can't help but picture them rippling as she fucks you.

"What's so good?" she asks like she already knows the answer.

Her voice sends you spiraling further, the almost taunting tone laced in her words. "The way you touch me."

She laughs lowly, "Oh? You close?" Her head turns as she presses a kiss to your cheek, you pull your head out of her neck and look her in the eyes.

"Use your hand," you order, grabbing her right wrist and dragging it towards where you want it.

The look that washes over her almost pushes you over the edge, the way she listens to your command and presses her fingertips to your clit.

The texture of the fabric rubbing against you feels overwhelmingly good, tension building in your body. You watch her with your eyes half open and your lips parted, watch as she drinks you in with her eyes.

Everything about her is skilled, the way she moves her hand in hard circles and pushes into you. Her free hand wraps around your neck gently and pushes you back a bit so that she can see more of you, your free nipple and the blush spreading across your chest. The action combined with the slight pressure on your neck makes your eyes roll back, a curse falling from your lips.

"Faster. Fuck, Sam," you tilt your head back and move with her hand, "I'm so close."

She listens so good, movements speeding up just how you asked. It feels so good, the warmth spreading throughout your body and coiling in your stomach. You're panting needily, orgasm rushing towards you, its presence overbearing.

"So bossy," She teases.

A slew of words grace your lips, body falling forward to mask the volume of your moans in the crook of her neck. She moves with precision, never once slowing down or faltering.

"Come on, baby," She urges, "cum on my hand."

It only takes a few more movements before you're doing just that, body tensing up and shuddering above her. The orgasm hits you like a bullet train and drags itself out, lasting longer than any other you'd ever had.

The feeling of her arm around your back, fingers still moving on your clit to guide you through makes it last longer. Her voice is in your head, grounding you as she whispers.

Her hand is gone from your clit and her neck is sweaty from the combined body heat by the time you pull back, shaking slightly. The reality of the situation doesn't hit you, just lingers in the back of your mind as you look at her.

"Hi," you say, hair sticking to your forehead slightly.

"Hi," She smiles sweetly back. "Sorry about the hickeys, I got a little carried away."

Your nipple hurts a little from the intensity with which she sucked at it, and you know your neck is riddled with marks.

"It's okay," you smile back, "but you'll have to be the one to let my boss know where they came from."

Her smile turns sheepish, though you can tell she doesn't regret leaving them. "Only if I can see you again," her arms tighten around your waist, lips brushing yours.

"Deal."

[enkas-illusion]

(Not) Just Another Crush - Part 1/2

Fandom / Pairing: Attack On Titan / Eren x f!reader

Rating: NSFW/Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Content Warning: Fluff, fluff, A LOT of fluff, slow burn, kissing, language, slight make out, emotional edging of sorts (it will make sense)

Chapter Summary: Instead of pining over the mystery man at your gym from a distance, you decide to take matters into your own hands and talk to the guy. And you find out that Eren Jaeger, as it turns out, is akin to a man written by a woman.

Author's notes:  Hello, here’s a meet-cute type of thing for gym bro Eren cause ~I need a big boy, gimme a big boy, gimme a big big boy~; this is a 2-part story so the chapters are super lengthy. Hope you enjoy it – feel free to like, reblog or comment! Thank you for reading! 

-Eren’s Birdie

Song Dedication: Crush by Cigarettes After Sex

Part 1 | Part 2

To the unassuming eyes, it may look like just two people interacting – but to the ones who knew, you and the gym trainer, it was fate intervening to give you this opportunity!

“Bruh, if you don't go talk to him now…” you hear Porco, the trainer's voice as he nudges you in your crush's direction.

As you walk up to your crush you think about how stupid this idea seems. The plan was to ask him to alternate sets with you on seated rows since the gym was way too crowded. 

Honestly, the move was a bit too obvious in your opinion. But you'd set your mind to it – Today is the day you finally talk to your crush!

It had been quite some time since you'd been secretly simping over this guy so what's the harm? All the other equipment being occupied was the perfect excuse, if you had to look for one, to finally talk to him.

Since you’re usually reserved, you don’t talk to anyone at the gym. You've always been this way – doing your own thing while blasting music in your earphones and going home without ever lifting your head up.

But ever since you saw him about a month ago, your eyes had been wandering around to find him the minute you'd enter the gym, stealing glimpses whenever you could without being creepy about it. 

You decided it was just some stupid crush only because the man was ridiculously hot so it'll fade away eventually. But man, were you wrong.

When he didn't show up to the gym the whole week last week, you rushed to Porco, who's always hanging around to enquire – any semblance of subtlety thrown out the window. 

It wasn't like you were planning to make a move (god knows the only reason you didn't talk much at the gym was to avoid the occasional creeps that would try talking you up).... but the fact that it felt like a missed chance with the mystery guy left an itch and a curiosity to know more.

“...you know the one who's always wearing anime t-shirts? Long, black haired pretty dude?” You'd asked, hoping Porco would recognize your crush from your half-assed description.

When Porco was seemingly confused, you'd pestered further, “The one who always has his hair tied in a messy bun but still looks gorgeous? Nothing? Ummm- The emo dude with the perfect proportions!”

“OH! Are you talking about Eren? I can’t quite remember his last name but pretty sure you’re talking about Eren. Yeah… he's a regular– has been here for a year now.”

“How come I only saw him a month ago?”

“I think he recently switched timings to fit his work schedule or something. Maybe he shifted back to the mornings.”

Your heart sinks at the information… there goes your imaginary chance with Eren.

Eren.

You memorise his name anyway… hoping that maybe the gods would be generous enough to give you a chance to talk to him.

And they do. He shows up over the weekend and you secretly cheer that he's back during your schedule. However, another month passes by as you keep on trying to find the ‘perfect’ opportunity to talk to him. 

Which brings you to the present moment, as you walk towards him and wait at a distance while he finishes his reps. He slows down his movements nonetheless when your eyes meet, and before you can stop yourself, you wave at him before abruptly putting your hand down. 

Eren stops his movements and pulls his headphones back, his serious face breaking into a soft smile, “Hii…?”

“Hey, sorry to interrupt but would you mind alternating sets with me? I���ve been waiting for about 15 minutes…” you point at the other equipments flocked by people, “Totally cool if you can’t tho-”

“Okay,” he smiles as he does five more reps before getting up and wiping the sweat off the seat.

“Thank you,” you say as you go to adjust the weights. Your jaw almost drops when you see it's set to 80kgs. You almost want to laugh as you set it back to 15kgs.

‘Dude’s a beast, don’t compare! Upper body never was your best muscle group,’ you think to yourself. You resume your music quickly and begin your set. When you’re done, you get up to wipe the seat as well as the handlebars of the machine with your towel.

You hear a snort from behind and when you turn to look at Eren and see him give you a smile that has you weak in your knees.

“What?” you ask confused.

“Wiping the handles as well? Cute,” he answers. He can’t help but find this action considerate – Most people don’t even bother wiping the patch formed by their sweaty ass cheeks.

Even if his compliment makes you blush, you try hard to not let it show. You simply move away to signal him to the seat. He bends down to readjust the weights.

“No way you’re gonna go above 80!?” you gasp as you see him push it to 100kgs.

“The last one is always till failure,” he states matter-of-factly.

“Oh... that’s crazy, I could never. I’ve got noodle arms,” you joke.

“Didn’t you get your first full pull up a few days ago?” he asks. 

PAUSE. He’s noticed you before???

As if instantly reading your mind, he adds, “I saw you cheering and clapping your hands with Porco when you did it.”

“Oh that… sorry, I try not to bother anyone much usually,” you feel the heat rise to your cheeks out of embarrassment.

“I know, don’t be sorry, it’s a good thing to celebrate your PR… besides, Reiner has been teasing me about not making any progress lately so I need to step up my game for sure,” he laughs to himself as he gets into position.

“Reiner?” 

“That’s the huge blonde who I usually come with,” he explains. You simply nod and don’t speak further, letting him begin his set. He starts well but by the end you can tell that Eren is struggling a bit as soft cusses leave his lips, face scrunching and chest heaving as he steadies his breathing.

“Come on… 2 more.” you cheer, causing him to grunt as he finishes his set. Your eyebrows raise in surprise when you see him wipe the handles along with the seat, imitating your habit.

“Thank you.” you blush as you bend down to readjust the weights to 25kgs, “So, you’re done?”

“Yeah…” he speaks, taking small sips of water from his bottle, “I’ll see you around?” 

You nod and he smiles at you as he turns to leave, but quickly turns back again, “Shit! Sorry… What's your name?”

The blush grows even further at his question as you tell him your name and ask, “What about you?”

“I’m Eren… Eren Jaeger.”

Jaeger. Eren Jaeger.

You memorise his full name and you both say your goodbyes as you get back to your workout. Eren left way before you did, leaving no room for further conversations to occur. 

This interaction hadn’t gone unnoticed by Porco, who rushed to your side when you were stretching, “Soooo, am I your cupid yet?”

“Don’t get your hopes up… we’ll have small talks whenever we see each other at best. Nothing’s going to happen!” you lie with a straight face, but deep down you were dying to check him out on Instagram once you were in the comfort of your home.

Your crush was oh so kind to spare you the stalking when you see your phone light up with a notification later at night.

Eren_j started following you.

You almost jump up out of your bed but steady yourself to call your best friend, Annie, before you even get to checking his account.

“Guess who just followed me on ig?” you giggle when she picks up the call.

“Huh?”

“Guess. Who. Followed. Me!” you repeat.

“Darling… I need context,” she replies dryly.

“Eren… Eren followed me… the gym crush!” you squeal, killing the suspense since you knew it was too late at night for her to indulge in your guessing game.

“Waitttttt… the supposedly hot emo guy who wears anime t-shirts?” you can hear her surprising tone, “you go girl– thought you were too much of a puss-”

“Annie!” you cut her off, “What do I do? Should I text him first or just follow back?”

“NO! Always let the guy text first,” she proclaims.

“Ugh… but okay, I hear you… wouldn’t want to seem like a simp after keeping my cool for so long,” you answer back as you put her on speaker to follow him back. You see the Requested icon turn to Following within seconds.

“ANN! He accepted already,” you almost yell.

“Welp, that was fast,” she chuckles.

“Sooo,” you begin in a sweet sing-song voice, “I’m gonna go stalk his profil-”

“Yeah, alright… have a good night babe.” you hear a dramatic mwah from her. You chuckle as you bid her good night before hanging up.

As you skim through his profile, you can’t help but feel giddy at the fact that this guy actually seems to have a personality, unlike some gym bros who make ‘muscle’ their entire personality.

When you’re going through his story highlights, you see his username pop up at the top of your screen, making your heart race faster. He had replied to your story. You rush to check on your profile what you’d posted, feeling your brain malfunction as you fear it being something embarrassing and goofy.

Phew. It was just a post-workout selfie showing off your wet, sweaty t-shirt.

You open his text.

Eren_j:

Guess u got a good workout in after I left afterall.

Feeling a bit bold, you text back.

I did… would’ve been a lot more fun with you tho.

And you almost want to throw your phone away in anticipation as you see the typing icon.

Eren_j:

Be careful what you wish for. I’ve been told im a strict/difficult gym partner.

I like me a challenge :)

Eren_j:

Is that so? Guess i gotta make it particularly hard for u :)))

I’m a tough girl Eren… i think i can take it.

You swing your feet as you roll around on the bed. If you ever showed this to Annie, she’d probably call it ‘fucking cringe but cute nonetheless’. 

As the double entendre texts died down, seamless conversations kept you hooked. He was putting in equal amounts of effort to keep the conversation alive. You don’t exactly remember how you fell asleep but you remember talking to him for about two hours or so. 

And that’s how you became gym buddies. As another month had passed by, you got to know him as a friend. You want to cuss yourself since your crush has only increased tenfold ever since you’ve gotten to know him personally. 

You realise just how deceiving his looks are – on the outside, he’s this big, intimidating dude but on the inside he’s got the golden retriever energy. Eren is the perfect mix of what you’d call a serious yet laid back/chill guy.

He’s thoughtful, remembers tiny details about you, sends you songs whenever he finds one he thinks you’d like and memes that remind him of you and is a self proclaimed hopeless romantic. You could go on and on about Eren and it would still not be enough – needless to say, you were absolutely gone for him, the kind that they describe as being totally head-over-heels in movies.

And it doesn’t help that a few nights ago, when the gym was basically empty, you two almost kissed. Standing in the corridor, as you were saying your goodbyes, it felt as if he was about to lean in to kiss you before being interrupted by someone walking out the changing room, making you flee the scene, akin to a criminal being caught.

But then again, you weren’t really sure if it was just your delusion overriding the tiny bit of logic left in your romance-ridden brain.

~~~

“Eren… I can’t– fuck,” you groan as your hands shake.

“You got it, come on. You’re doing so good. One more then we’re done. Promise,” you hear his voice as his grip on your waist tightens. 

Eren supports your bodyweight as he pushes you up so that your chin is touching the pull up bar. The first few were bearable but by your 7th pull up, it’s more like he’s working his biceps rather than you working your back.

With shaky hands, you try to control your movement as you come down but your arms almost give in, causing you to slightly stumble as you drop to your feet with a light thud. His grip on your waist tightens to steady you before letting go gently.

Ever since the almost kiss, you’d been extra aware of his touches. So even his guiding touches, without any ulterior motives, have been making you feel some type of way.

You slouch slightly as you sit against a wall in the corner, sipping your water. You close your eyes to calm your breathing as you feel your arms burn. You groan as you realise you’re going to be super sore tomorrow morning.

“Good job bub,” he snickers. You open your eyes to see him bend down in front of you to pat your head lightly.

“I give up… you win, you are a ruthless gym partner.”

“Aww… I'm flattered,” he jokes further.

You roll your eyes as you swat his hand away from your head.

“Let me make it up to you, I’ll give you a massage. How about that?” he adds jokingly, though you know he wouldn’t mind actually giving you one if you ask him nicely.

“You better! I’m not going to be able to make dinner tonight!” you reply as you hold your arms out limply in front of him.

“Then don’t. Let me make you dinner,” he says, taking the opportunity.

“For real?” you ask, taken by surprise by his sudden yet tempting offer.

“Yeah? Got any plans for tonight?”

“No… let’s do it. I'm in,” you agree before demanding, “but, I want that massage as well.”

“Done… my massages can put those Thai spas to shame,” he boasts.

“Are you overselling yourself Jaeger?” you tease him, “it’s often disappointing when reality doesn’t match the hype.”

“You’re gonna eat your words later… I’ve been told I’ve got magic fingers.” he retorts, his cocky smirk wider than ever. You roll your eyes as you grab your things before getting up. 

“That’s for me to decide,” you poke him further, “... the food better be worth the 7 pull ups.”

Surprisingly he doesn’t have a witty comeback in his arsenal this time. You simply hear a low chuckle escape his lips and it’s somehow more mischievous than whatever clever words he would’ve spoken otherwise.

You’d never been to his place before, meaning it took a few minutes for your brain to register that you were going to Eren fucking Jaeger’s place! In the changing room, you freshen up as much as you can to try to not look like a sweaty mess. You change into a pair of jeans and a jumper, slinging the gym bag over your shoulder before giving yourself one last look in the mirror and walking out to meet him near the entrance of the gym.

As you walk out, you see him waiting for you on his bike, securing the helmet on his head. He’s changed into a pair of loose jeans and a denim jacket over his t-shirt. Even when you’d seen his ride for the first time, Eren being a biker never surprised you since it felt very on-brand for him. 

Imagine him picking you up for a date, waiting on his bike with a bouquet of tulips in hand. Ehe. 

You snap out of your daydream when he holds out the other helmet in front of you. You lean your head down when he motions you to do so and he puts the helmet on you.

“Where did the second one come from?” you wonder out loud.

“I had planned to take you home tonight from the start,” he winks.

You snort as you slide the visor of his helmet down his face. You hear his laugh as he adds, “Porco let me borrow his, apparently he keeps an extra one in the cabin for god-knows-what.”

“I guess I really might need to call Porco a cupi–” you freeze midway.

“Hmm?” 

“A good trainer.” you correct yourself, and you’re pretty sure it was far from convincing but Eren decides not to tease you about it. You’re 99.99% certain he heard it – maybe he just wants to save you the embarrassment, you think to yourself.

You hop onto his bike and hesitantly rest your hands on his sides not wanting to seem awkward by straight up hugging him from behind. However, he straightens his back as he grabs the top of your hands, pulling them to the front to wrap them around his waist. You smile to yourself as you rest your cheek on his back and hug your arms around him steadily.

The ride back to his place is barely 10 minutes long. You miss being so close to him as soon as you get off the bike in the parking lot. He parks and guides you to his apartment holding your wrist gently. It’s not a complete holding-hands-fingers-intertwined but that has never stopped you from overanalyzing things, has it?

You take in your surroundings when you enter the apartment and it doesn’t stand out much. It looks like any normal dude’s apartment, except it’s cleaner – probably more than your own.

“Wow, your apartment is clean,” you comment.

“You’re hurting me babe. Did you expect me to live like a savage just cause I’m a guy.”

“No, no… I’m sorry it came out wrong–” you try to clarify but he interrupts.

“Kidding! I know it’s cleaner than usual. I live with Reiner and Levi… while Reiner and I aren’t really shabby, Levi really can’t tolerate a dirty house,” Eren explains.

“Oh, that must be exhausting, no?”

“Not really. That was Levi’s one condition when Reiner and I went to him in search of a third flatmate so we agreed.”

“Ah, makes sense. Are they here?” you ask, curiously as you hang your bag near the coat rack and take off your shoes. Eren returns to your side, having locked the door and keeping all his things in their designated places. 

“Nah. Reiner’s out of town on a work trip for like two weeks and Levi’s gone home for a few days as well,” he answers as he shrugs off his jacket, folding it before placing it on the side table.

You can’t help but find it cute that he keeps the place neat so diligently, being considerate of others… but then again, you’ve been finding all of Eren’s actions cute lately.

“... so it’s just us here tonight.” he says flirtatiously.

“Good thing, I’d hate to share food now… I’m hungry,” you say, dodging it. Usually, you’d flirt back but the two of you being alone at his place suddenly feels so real – anything could happen. You chicken out – there may be a possibility that he likes you back but there could ALSO be a possibility of him only liking you as a friend.

“‘Ight, what would you like to have?” he asks as you follow him to the kitchen. 

“Surprise me… nothing too fancy though.” 

“Phew… I was actually hoping for that answer since I’d prepared the dough for burger patties,” he admits sheepishly as he washes his hand and puts on the apron. You lean against the opposite counter to let him cook in peace without any hindrance. 

“Do you want my hel-”

“OH– just a min,” he interrupts you as he hurries out of the kitchen. You blink in confusion as you follow him out to check on the guy and find him connecting his phone to the speaker.

A soft song plays through the speaker loudly and he walks towards you as if just now he’s truly ready to take on kitchen duties. 

“It’s my cooking playlist,” he smiles.

He’s so fucking cute. For fucks sake!

When you ask him again if he wants your help, he declines saying ‘the only thing you need to do tonight is compliment my amazing skills.’

So you watch him work while chatting away about random things. It doesn’t take long for him to prepare the patties and heat the buns, adding copious amounts of veggies with melting cheese on top of it. He presents it with a ‘Tada!’ and you clap at his presentation with a dramatic ‘Bravo!’

When you taste the first bite, you almost moan at how delicious it is. The burger is huge, juicy and has the right balance of crispy and soft with spicy, sweet and sour. You close your eyes, delving into the heavenly taste.

You open your eyes to see Eren devouring his own burger, unfazed by the masterpiece that he’d created as if it were something ordinary to him.

“Eren!” you squeal, “if this is what I get to eat after, I might just do a hundred pull-ups from tomorrow.”

Eren chuckles at this, licking the cheesy sauce that had trickled down his fingers, “Told ya I only brag when I know I’m good.”

“I’m serious! This is too good,” you add, taking another bite. 

“I know… thank you,” Eren smiles, clearly amused at the way you’re enjoying his burger. And in that moment, a thought crosses his mind – he’d make you dinner every night if it meant that he got to be the reason for you to feel such bliss.

Neither of you talk much till you finish eating. Your reason being wanting to relish in the taste with full concentration and Eren’s reason being not wanting to disturb your peace.

When you’re done, you clear out the plates and Eren cleans the table. As you’re walking out of the kitchen, you hear a familiar tune playing when he resumes the songs on his playlist.

You recognize it – Dope Lovers by DPR IAN.

“I love this song!” you exclaim as you walk towards him. The tension you’d felt at the beginner has almost dissipated and feeling a little courageous, you extend an arm out to him to dance.

He tosses his phone on the sofa before taking your hand to pull you closer to him. You sway your body to the rhythm as you mumble some of the lyrics.

“Is it the art or the artist that you like?” he teases.

“Well, you can’t deny that he isn’t hot… There’s something about DPR Ian, he’s soooo–” you pause to think about the right word to use before concluding, “– babygurl.”

“Babygurl?” Eren laughs as he rests his arms at your hips, “What does that even mean?”

“It’s like daddy –  it’s a state of mind,” you joke but then you purse your lips as you really think about how to explain this endearing slang to Eren, “Babygurl is when a man is so comfortable in his masculinity that he isn't scared of embracing his soft side and being gentle. A man who knows that kindness is strength. Someone who looks so tough but is far from toxic. A man who’s a gentleman in the true sense of the word… does that make sense?”

“Hmm, I think so…” he nods, “Who else is babygurl?”

“You are, Eren,” you smile and lift your hands up to move to his neck but stop when you feel a weird stiffness in your shoulders, “ow, it’s sore already.”

“Okay, let’s give you that massage!” he declares with a booming laugh, taking your hands in his and guiding you to the sofa. He sits you down with your back facing him and gently taps near your lower back to signal you to sit up straight.

“Relax your shoulders,” you hear him speak softly as his hands move up to your shoulders but he pauses his movement. He lifts his hands to comb his fingers through your locks and you jerk slightly when his fingers touch your neck in the process.

“Eren, what are you doin-” you giggle as you turn your head to look at him. 

“Shh, stay still,” he murmurs, knitting his eyebrows in concentration. His hair falls down, framing his face as he takes out his hair tie. You turn to look to the front as he runs his fingers to gather all your loose strands together once again. You feel him gently pull at your hair as he secures it with his hair tie.

“You know, you could’ve just asked for mine. It’s in my bag,” you chuckle.

“Too lazy,” he replies as his hands begin to massage your back gently. He alternates between pressing his thumbs down the length of your spine and pressing his palms flat to cover the entire area, sliding his hands down in slow pressured movements. You slouch in his touch and his hands move up to your shoulder blades to massage the area in circular motion.

“Mmm, Eren– that feels so good,” you breathe out, skin feeling like wax that could melt into his hands at any moment. You’re certain you’d fall asleep in a few minutes if he continued doing this any longer.

Eren changes his movement to bring up his fingertips to your nape, dragging them gently over the expanse of your neck, his fingers dancing over your skin as he dips them under the collar to trace your skin. This causes you to let out an involuntary whimper and your cheeks heat up in embarrassment when his touch comes to a halt.

You’re pretty sure he can see the goosebumps pricking on the surface of your skin and you mumble a soft ‘sorry’ as you create some space between to turn around to face him completely. Your eyes meet and you’re smiling at him awkwardly but he has a poker face. 

He gets up abruptly, breaking eye contact as he hurries towards the kitchen. You look at him, confused and are about to ask him why he was acting that way but he speaks up before you do.

“Want anything to drink? Something sweet for dessert?”

“Umm… okay,” you mutter, still confused.

“Anything specific?” he enquires.

“I wouldn’t mind a cup of hot coffee,” you request, smiling as you abandon your previous thought.

“Coffee? At night?” he counters, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, that’s my talent. I can sleep like a baby no matter how strong the coffee is.”

“Hmmm… Would you like to try the Eren Jaeger Special where I mix loads of chocolate with coffee and cream?”

“So, basically a mocha?” you press your lips together to keep yourself from laughing.

“Yes or no?” he says with narrowed eyes.

“Yes,” you laugh and he rolls his eyes as he turns around, disappearing into the kitchen.

You’re scrolling through your phone when you hear his approaching footsteps after a few minutes. You close your phone as you turn your head to look up at him as he walks towards you with two steaming mugs in hand.

As soon as he places one of the mugs on the table, you pick it up instantly. He sits down in front of you to clink your mugs together with a ‘cheers’. You both take tiny sips together and your eyes widen at the frothy sweet and bitter taste. 

“If you get me addicted, you’ll have to be the one to meet the demands too, just sayinggg…'' you blow over the surface and take another sip.

“Yes ma’am, I’d gladly oblige to all of your demands,” he winks before taking another sip from his mug. You try to hide your growing smile with your mug. For the rest of the conversation you try to change the subject from the two of you to literally anything else you can find – and Eren being the great conversationalist that he is, is talking about each topic just as enthusiastically.

“Aww man, the last of the coffee’s gone cold.” you swirl the liquid in the mug.

“Chug! Chug! Chug!” Eren fake yells, already having finished his. You raise one fist up as you gulp the last of your coffee down in one go and slam the mug down on the cushion. Feeling the frothy stache over your upper lip, you lick it off, laughing along with him.

“There’s still some left…” Eren mumbles, pointing at his own mouth to show the spot. Before you have a chance to wipe it, he swipes his thumb over the corner of your lips before bringing it to his lips to lick it off. It’s such a simple act yet it has the butterflies in your stomach going rampant.

“Hey, that was mine,” you try to feign offence but it comes out more desperate than you’d intended as you stare at his lips a little too longer than friends are supposed to. 

He cups your face with both his hands as his gaze deepens before his eyes move down to your lips. Your breath hitches as you see him instinctively wet his lips. He leans in to move closer till your faces are just inches away.

“Then take it back agai–” he’s rudely interrupted by the sound of the front door opening with a loud thud. You pull back abruptly to create some space between the two of you. You see Eren’s jaw clench as he closes his eyes briefly in an attempt to keep his cool.

“REINER MY BROTHER– oh,” you see a man enter the living room with a large backpack.

“Jean.” Eren says, giving him a tight lipped smile.

“Eren. Where’s Reiner?” Jean asks as he looks at the two of you.

“Did he not tell you that he wasn’t gonna be at home for a while?” Eren answers, and you’re almost surprised at how cold his tone is.

“Yes? But I figured he'd leave after seeing me?” Jean retorts.

“And why would he do that?” Eren asks just as coldly.

“Since he said I was welcome to stay in his room while I was in town? Even told me to use the key y'all keep in the space behind the nameplate,” the man explains.

“Great! It's amazing how my roommate fails to tell me about shit like this.” Eren mutters but smiles at the guy nonetheless, “His room is unlocked… feel free to make yourself at home I guess.”

“Thanks. Have fun, I guess,” Jean half salutes Eren, giving you both a smug smile, feeling the satisfaction of having cockblocked his friendly foe. He leaves you two alone, making his way to Reiner’s room. Once you watch him disappear, you turn to check your phone for the time.

This time it was real! You’re not delusional, he really was about to kiss you!

You silence the voice in your head. You don’t know how to feel about the fact that Eren seemingly likes you but he can’t seem to make a move or at least declare his feelings with certainty. And there’s no way in hell you’d confess first since it’s pretty evident you like him, you’ve dropped enough hints over a month’s time – you want him to be the one to do it first.

“It’s late, I better get going,” you make an excuse as you stand up, gathering your things as you prepare to leave. Your cheeks feel hot and you give him a small smile, feeling a bit too flustered to carry on a conversation at this point.

“Let me drop you home,” he offers quickly as he stands up with you.

“My apartment isn’t far from here.”

“It's late,” he adds. You consider it and nod your head. He smiles as he grabs his keys along with his own two helmets this time.

The ride home is quick so neither of you bother with small talk. Once he parks in the parking lot of your apartment building, he tilts his bike to make it easier for you to get off. He gets off the bike, gently taking your helmet off and placing it on the bike. As you fix your hair, he takes his helmet off as well, placing it next to yours.

You slightly shuffle on your feet as you prepare to say your goodbyes. When he turns back to look at you, you smile earnestly. 

“I had a fun time tonight… despite you being a meanie at the gym.” you try to lighten up the tension.

“Only for you bub,” he jokes back, making finger-hearts at you.

“Good night, Eren.” you laugh as you wave at him and turn to walk away. You barely take a step when you hear him say your name.

“Hmm?” you turn around to look at him again. He doesn’t speak but takes one long stride to close the distance between you, wrapping his hands around your waist. As if on instinct, you drop your bag to the ground and place your hands on his shoulders, looking up at him as your breath hitches in your throat again.

He brings his left hand up to your cheek, dipping his head down to kiss your lips without any further delay. His wider frame envelopes yours as the hand on your cheek snakes back to hold your head in place as he deepens the kiss. You wrap both your hands around his neck, standing on your tippy toes for better access while his lower hand wraps around your waist even tighter.

When your lips finally part to catch your breaths, he looks you in the eye, smiling contently. Your legs feel giddy from the high you’re experiencing and you’re glad he’s still holding you flush against his body.

“I’d been dying to do that ever since I laid my eyes on you… figured it’d be pretty stupid of me to let the opportunity go twice in a row,” he confesses, dipping his head down again to kiss you once again.

You’re surprised, your brain reeling at the information but you close your eyes nonetheless, getting lost in the feeling of his lips moving against yours.

“Yeah, it would’ve been pretty stupid,” you smile when he pulls back. You pull him down by the collar to give him a kiss on his cheek, “Thank you for not wasting any more chances.”

You run your hands through his loose strands and he hums as he closes his eyes. You pull him down for another deep kiss. His tongue invades your mouth and he squeezes your ass as he pulls your body further closer to his. When you feel his boner from under his clothing, it causes you to moan into the kiss.

Your hands move down his sides, lowering further but he stops your movement with his own hands holding your wrists firmly. He pulls away from the kiss, eyes still closed as he rests his forehead against yours. His hot breath fans your face as he speaks, “It’s taking everything in me to not come up to your place to fuck you right now.”

“Then do it,” you mewl desperately as you kiss him again. He smiles into the kiss but breaks it once again to speak, “No, I wanna do this right. Let me take you out on a real date first… tomorrow evening?”

You feel your cheeks burn up as you bite your bottom lip to contain the grin threatening to give away your excitement as you nod. You stand on your toes once again to give him a quick peck. He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, enveloping you into a comforting hug.

“Take this with you,” he mumbles as he goes to grab a helmet. He leans down to grab your bag from the floor, handing both the items to you.

“Good night Eren,” you smile. He cups your face with both his hands and leans down to kiss you again – it’s brief but passionate.

“Good night baby,” he smiles as he lightly smacks your ass, earning a yelp from you. Before you can scold him, he gives you a hasty kiss before making his way to his bike. You walk to the elevator and press the button, turning to look back at him as he secures his helmet.

He starts the bike but waits till he sees you enter the elevator. Just as the door closes, you catch a glimpse of him leaving. You lean back against the railing, covering your face with your hands, not really believing what had just occurred. 

The man you’d been pining over for months had been crushing over you all along too. 

Eren Jaeger never was just another unrequited crush – and come tomorrow, he’s going to mean a lot more than just a friend.

[honestsycrets]

querido i: a reward of 2099 | outlaw!miguel o'hara x reader

❛ pairing | outlaw!miguel o'hara x reader

❛ type | doubleshot; chapter is safe for work.

❛ summary | it's been a long time since you've been with miguel o'hara. when your daughter gabriella finds his wanted poster, life starts to unravel.

❛ tags | mention of murder and minor character death, hidden pregnancy, western au, spanish not translated, outlaw!miguel, baby-mama!reader, slight cursing, angst, threats.

❛ sy's notes | here's to listening to the civil wars' devil backbone one too many times. i needed a break from filling most requests, so i only incorporated one very lightly in this piece.

“Mamá, 2099 is a strange amount for a reward, isn’t it?”

Your daughter was a mischievous girl just like her father. She tore down the poster that was tacked up on the homely post office’s bulletin board as you gathered the weekly post. Coming into town was always a bit of a laborious task. With goods to gather and a little girl to socialize, you made it into town once every week.

"Sure is," Jackson the postman said.

“Thank you,” you plucked mail from the man’s dark hands. “I’ll see you next week.”

He wore a warm, kind smile. Working in the post office, he always seemed to be well-versed in what was going on in everyone’s life. His coal-black eyes shone warmly at you.

“Take care now, there’s wild men out there. What with Peter gone and all, you sure you girls will be okay out there? Rio’d sure put up Gabi and you at the hostel.”

Gabi scrunched up her face tight like a screw being twisted into a board.

“That’s real sweet of you to worry but I’m sure we’ll be fine. We've been out there nine years now. I’ll see you next week, sí? ” You tucked your post into a basket that dangled on your elbow, pulling long and heavy skirts to avoid trampling them with your boots as you opened the door.

“See ya then!”

Gabriella stepped out first, pulling on your lace sleeves as a cue for her delayed answer. She wouldn’t butt into a conversation, but she always seemed to hold her questions for a better time. You sighed, looking at the pale wooden buildings. Saloon, feed store, bank, and the occasional hostel. Over the last decade, the town seemed to flourish, bringing all manner of people to your once tiny Spanish town.

“I suppose they didn’t wanna give the extra coin out, Gabi.”

She looked back to the paper in her hands.

“Wanted dead or alive. Notorious badman Miguel O’Hara, 38, native of Nueva… why that’s here, mama!”

Your blood chilled. Congealed even. The sun nearly blinded you, even with the hat that kept the hot sun off of your head. You stepped off the doorway and onto the dusty ground, spinning on your heel to face your little girl with your dark blue fan in your hands, waving the heat of the day off your flushed skin.

“Wanted for--”

You swiped the paper from her fingers.

“That’s about enough of that. We best get on our way, we got goods to buy, the undertaker to see, and a new dress to fit for your papá’s funeral.”

“I was just reading it. In case we see him?”

“We won’t. It’s been a time since he’s shown himself around these parts. You have no business looking at-- that kinda man. He’s a troublemaker. Now get in the cart, let’s not dolly around.”

You would know.

“O—okay, mamá.”

“I’m sorry, Gabi, I don't mean to yell. You’re all I got, preciosa,” you wedged the paper into a new bible, right next to your wooden rosary, and flung it into the basket.

"I know."

You started ahead of her, fussing with your white veil, sparing no expense to the many questions that she had that day. You had just as many questions as she did.

You just couldn’t articulate them to a grieving little girl.

Do you think it's a boy or girl? the seamstress asks a woman in her shop. She fashions all sorts of fashions from birth to death. Her store is stuffed to the brim with frilly and lacy baptismal dresses. Your gaze fell on her belly, tracing the curve.

"Una niña," she says. Her voice triggers something old, some ancient memory you've suppressed. His voice in your ear, a soft kiss on your head. You're sitting there, next to the little girl that he always wanted, haunted by the flood of memories that comes with looking at another woman's pregnant belly.

"You're not like the others. Aren't men supposed to want sons?" you teased him. Miguel snorted, his arm underneath your neck as he gazed up at a sky of glittering stars. The air was lightly warm, a light wind fluttering through the tall grass. Post-relation bliss was warm on his skin, peaceful and quiet.

"For what? Men are jealous of sons," he muttered, shifting his head to kiss the top of your head. "Little girls are... the light in their lives. I'm going to call mine Gabriella. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"That's a real pretty name."

"Sure is. ¿por qué?"

You didn't tell him why. That you hid a secret underneath the layers of your dress. A secret that you knew Miguel would have more than an issue with if he knew.

"Mamá?" Gabi shakes your arm, "Mamá we're next."

Your mind likes to pull mean tricks on you.

Wanted for double murder.

Miguel O’Hara was always somewhere between a hangman’s knot and three mouths to feed. For you, the latter. You were under no illusion of the sort of man Miguel was.

Every look at your daughter’s soft, peaceful face at night reminded you of him. You worried that the more she looked at posters of Miguel, peered into an artist’s rendition of Miguel’s slight, sultry eyes, lush lips, and strong jaw-- she might be able to locate the similarities when she looked at herself. That was why you had to take the flyer from her. The artist sure had a fine hand at drawing him, the man who danced in your dreams by a warm fire and stayed up late counting the stars. He’s gotten thicker, you thought. You sat on the rocking chair as she slept peacefully, rocking back and forth on the chair.

A violent knocking at the front door swept you free from your thoughts. You snatched up the silver lantern, yanked a fine ivory rebozo over your shoulders, and rushed down the stairs. The booming knocking became louder, more urgent. The movement was mechanical, with no husband to answer the door for you, you checked the window first. The man who stood there was not a man you’d want to see. Not now, not back then. He had a wicked face that sat beneath a wide-brimmed hat that obscured the balding spot on top of his head.

God, not him. He was obsessed.

“Buenas noches, Doña O’Hara,” he peeped into the window.

“Bendito, don’t call me that,” you rushed out, the heavy wooden door slamming to a close behind you. “I’ve told you already, he is not here.”

“And I don’t believe you. First, your man-loving husband dies. Next, sightings of Miguel a town over. ¿Qué piensas? Hm? What comes after that?”

“My husband was trampled, Aaron. By a bull. He was a hard-working man who worked with violent cattle. These accidents happen. Why don’t you ask the undertaker?”

He wouldn’t. Although you don’t think Aaron is a complete idiot, he surely has his own motivations for which leads to follow and which leads to ignore. Your husband’s death was one of them.

“I’ll tell you what comes next. You come next. It’s only logical that he would come back to you. You have his daughter and all. Or… does he not know about that? I seem to recall him running out of here like a bat outta hell.”

“You’ve checked my property three times. Barn, basement, home. It’s been nine years, Aaron. Gloria a Dios, he’s probably remarried and forgotten me by now.”

“Not according to my reports.”

You hate the twinge of delight that comes from that admission. Your cheeks warm with blood, highlighting the rouge that sits across your cheeks. He chuckles caustically at how easily it shuts you up. Aaron takes a step forward, his deep leather boots creaking along the aged floorboards.

“What’d you want me to do with that information?”

“If he comes to see you, and I know he will,” he reached out for your chin. Your hand connects with his, shoving him back. “Tell me. You know, it’s a crime to kill another man without good cause.”

“You wanna catch Miguel for your own reasons, Aaron. Don’t bring none of that holier-than-thou bullshit to my footstep.”

“She can curse,” he laughs again. “Here I thought you were a good Christian woman.”

“Don’t try me,” He tries to corral you against the door. You flip your skirts up, his eyes following the motion. You seize the handgun strapped to your thigh, threatening to pull it on him. Aaron slides back, holding his calloused hands up. "Get off my property."

“I’m just saying. If you see him, you know where to find me. Who knows, you and I could work a lil something out.”

Even if you knew where he was, you would be hard-pressed to turn him into Aaron Delgado. You knew Miguel O’Hara would kill him. So, really, it was for his good. You watched him beat down the squeaky steps and mount his horse, fading into the distance of dark, twinkly stars. You probably shouldn’t be praying that robbers got ahold of him.

But only Diosito could judge you for that.

You dipped down to pick the lantern up, stepping off the steps to ensure that he was not just off your property, but properly gone. Then, seeing him set off toward town, you gazed up at the deep night sky. It was littered with an abundance of stars, massive and twinkling brilliantly. Miguel’s favorite constellations shone brightly in the sky. The Anglo called it-- Orion’s belt. Around here, it was named for the hunter: the deer, the pronghorn, and the sheep. You count each of the stars on your way back indoors to sleep in your empty bed.

You prayed Aaron’s hunt would be fruitless that night.

With your husband's untimely death came several complex decisions. Namely, what to do with his cattle hands and the animals under your care. You were fortunate enough to have support from the community in caring for the cattle, but you knew human affection did not last forever. You could sell his property at a scam of a price as a woman or you could keep it and work bitterly on the farm.

Or, as Aaron suggested today in the cover of concern, you could remarry yet again. It was nearly the only good option. Working wasn’t sustainable when you had a little girl to raise and a whole host of children to teach, as you always had. It would be nearly impossible to find someone like your dearly departed husband who knew your situation and couldn’t care less about it.

It’s good for a lil girl to have a father, he says. You know that-- but Aaron should be no one’s father. Not Gabriella’s. Miguel would’ve never approved. Neither did you.

You loosened beads of sweat from your hair as you returned inside, the ends of your skirt matted with dust. Gabriella would return home from school soon and you were fully intent on feeding her a slice of fresh peach pie.

You made your way into your home, your boots between your fingers. The smell of a smoky hearth piqued your attention. It didn’t arise from your great big wood stove that sat against the wall, ready to cook fresh tortillas, but the sort of hearth settled in the deep outdoors.

“Dios mío.”

Miguel sat there, plain as a field flower. His fingers tapped over the heavy wooden table, rolling in succession. He’s older than you remember-- jaw peppered with dark facial hair, his hair dark and wild, set away from his kind eyes that caught yours as quickly as you caught his. You dropped your boots at your feet, backing up once, twice.

“Don’t run, you won't get far,” his voice trilled, low and warm. Beside his sombrero on the table sat a thick rope and his gun, you don’t want to know which one he was planning to use today. His head twisted, a mused smile growing on his face. “You look so surprised, amor. You had to know I was coming.”

The nickname cut more than it used to. You had not been someone’s amor in a very long time. Married strictly by the weight of paper, you don’t exactly recall what the fleeting emotion of love felt like. Wisps of it licked a dead flame to life in your stomach.

“Miguel.”

“You look gorgeous,” Miguel hummed, turning his impossibly broad arms one over the other. You don’t remember him being this thick. He lurches onto his leather boots, taking a few practiced steps closer. Brilliant, you think, you’ve languished years thinking of this moment just to smell of sweat and cow shit. You suppose he’s smelled worse as an outlaw, a name that doesn’t quite fit the handsome man before you.

“You were always a bad liar.”

“Look, not smell.”

“My point stands,” you say.

Your normally practiced updo has gone frizzy, bits of hair escaping the clips that kept it flat against your head. Miguel’s eyes flickered over the strands, then down to your skin flush with blood and exhaustion.

“Mine too.”

You stared at him a moment longer before you found yourself laughing, just a light-- a small thing that you had failed to do over the past week. His death, and the subsequent funeral, was all too miserable. Now he was here and for a moment, just a brief thing, everything didn’t feel so earth-shatteringly dire.

He cracks a smile, drawing his hand to your flyaways, soothing it down against your head. You should be more angry at him-- settling you with a baby like he did and disappearing into the long grass with Widow and not a word more.

“I missed you,” you said quietly. His hand falls away from your head, drifting past his dark blue vest, and hooking at the fat metal belt buckle. “Pero… why are you here?”

“I heard Peter passed,” he said in a practiced tone. “I was a few towns over. Seeing how he’s taken good care of you all these years, I dropped in to say my dues to him. Came to see my girl too.”

The grief may not be readable in his eyes, but you know he’s practiced it in the same way you did for your Gabriella. Her only daddy was gone, deep in the cold earth. His words echoed in your ears, cutting through your grief bright and resonant. You wonder if he knew, but logically, you knew he couldn’t. Miguel always wanted to be a father.

“Who’d that be?”

“You,” Miguel turns your name over, making your name sound beautiful and light on his tongue. It’s sweet, like the peach pie cooling in your aged windows.

“After all these years?"

"Claro."

"You... shouldn't be here. You’re a wanted man,” you said. “Aaron is looking for you. You know that, right?”

“He's nothing to be concerned about.” Miguel shrugged off your suggestion. "I'm only wanted in these parts."

“Where else is there?” you said

“Out West. South. You take your pick,” Miguel lifted his hand, tracing your parched lower lip. “It don't matter to me. I seen all manner of places, like it here more than anywhere.”

"There's nothing here."

"Nothing but you."

You felt your stomach swoop, a delight filling it better than any meal you’d had. You parted your lips to say something else, to find a response that would fit-- to tell him the truth. But he left you then, came back when something fit better than the road. You wonder what fortune he must have made on the road that he’d come back. His hand caressed your cheek, rubbing it as if to soothe you. It didn’t.

“You think you can just go and come back like nothing happened? After what you did?”

The front door squeaked, dragging with a long hiss. Miguel peered over your shoulder as if it were instinctual, his hand snapping to the gun on his hip. You stopped him short of seizing his handgun. Gabriella bobbed in, closing the door tightly shut behind her. She wore a plain blue dress, fine ribbon braided in the updo she had on that day. She takes a few short steps forward before realizing who you were talking to.

“Mamá, I’m home!” she gasped. “That’s the man in the— in the flyer mamá--”

“Gabi go to your room.”

“I’m not--”

“Gabriella,” your voice went soft but stern. Nearly apologetic. You had been so hard on her lately. Miguel’s eyes dropped from Gabriella’s huge, doe-like eyes to her nose, then lips. His eyes sharpened, whipping back to look at you. “Por mí, okay? He won’t hurt me. Te prometo.”

She darted up the many steps to her room.

"Gabriella?" He stared at you uncomprehendingly. He quickly goes quiet, searching your eyes for something. You worry that he’s found the truth, your breath light as you walked over to your wooden stove, checking the flame and setting a pot of water that you brought from a nearby creek to bathe with. He follows you to the stove.

“My daughter is home. You should go,” you remarked, less of a command than a meek statement, floundering on your lips at the end. As delightful as it sounded, running off into some other territory, town, or world with Miguel-- it was unfeasible and irresponsible to be with a man whose name was stapled on the bulletin boards towns over.

“How old is she?”

"That's none of your business." Your outlaw hovers over you, absorbing the space, a bundle of heavy muscle and rage that plumes off his skin like the smell of sweat on your skin. It’s almost as if he can smell the regret seeping off your skin, despite knowing you couldn’t have done anything differently. No one told him and you could not reach him. Whatever the reason he stayed away, you were not the one he reached out to for updates.

“Tell me,” he growls, waves of anger causing his voice to shake. The tone is heartless, empty of the nights together, of slipping off with the old cattle hand at night and day, in the barn and the field. You’re stuck in the memory of your lovemaking with your vaquero, now your outlaw man. You missed him.

“Don’t do this. She could be listening.” You pad away from the stove to the window with the hope that he wouldn’t follow. He backs you up into the wall, his calloused hands so tight on his belt that you could draw lines of tension through his veins.

“You're not telling me because she’s mine,” he’s whispering, the words going through your chest, fizzling out into terrible pain. He reaches out, squeezing your hips to keep you put. Miguel leans into your space and buries you in his overwhelming scent.

“What do you want me to say?” you stare at his prominent muscles, the shift that is thrown open to expose his skin. He cups your jaw and throat with his large hand, forcing you to confront the truth. Your eyes blink closed, bits of tears dripping there. Miguel doesn’t have the patience for pity, or empathy, whichever the two you were looking for right then.

“I want you to tell me the truth. It's not hard.”

“Me telling you the truth changes a whole lot of nothing. You're putting her life at risk just being here. You're an outlaw,” you say, trying his rapidly evaporating patience. "You got a bounty on your head."

"It changes it all," he shoves you back into the window, a choked cry slipping from your throat. He doesn’t mean to hurt you, he meant to have the truth. Distantly, you were aware of Gabriella’s feet beating down the steps. You’re relatively certain she’d never gone all the way up to her room. In this creaky house you would have heard her door shut, the floorboards bounce. In either case, there’s no point running away from what you both know to be true.

“Sí, she’s your daughter,” you mustered the words in a bid to get it over with. Miguel always had to get his way. “Now what?”

Miguel flicked a look over his shoulder, marked by the heavy drag of his weighted firearm skidding across the wooden table. A life on the run will do that. Gabriella’s tiny hands slipped around his handgun.

“That ain't true!”

“Gabriella,” you cut her short. “Gabi, bebe, put that down.”

Miguel took a step back, pulling his head back slightly as you shifted in front of him. Her tiny head shook, over and over, tears pricking her bright brown eyes. You fooled yourself into thinking that she wouldn’t listen-- because your Gabi was a good girl. A wonderful good girl who liked nothing more but running in the field with the boys and brightly colored ribbons laced into her braids. She was also a mischievous girl who had been trying really, really hard to be good for you this week. Children had their limits.

“My papá is dead,” she said, her fingers trembling about the thing. Miguel’s head tilted in response, expecting you to take care of it. “His name was Peter and-- he liked sunsets and fluffy chocolate calves and--”

“Badly made blankets,” Miguel said lowly. Gabi lowered the gun, slowly, just an inch or two. “Shorn fabrics, uneven stitching, ugly colors.”

“He liked to make you smile-- be helpful,” he added. You snapped to look at Miguel as he rose his hand to his hips, gazing at the floor and rocking. He waits another moment, noting how Gabriella’s head nodded, rubbing away the tears that dripped off the corner of her eyes with her shoulder. She set the gun down on the table.

“You knew my papá?” she turns her arms one over another. “How?”

“He was my friend.”

“Mamá?” she looked toward you, seeking an answer from someone who wasn’t a face on a wanted paper with a reward of 2099 dollars.

“Peter was your papá but-- Miguel is your padre, mija,” you breathed hard, exhausted from years of suppression. She looks at you, not used to this level of betrayal. Her eyes are distant, somewhere in her tiny memories. She whips around and runs out the back door. Miguel turns his eye out the window, her tiny body disappearing into the deep green fields. The sun blinds your eyes as you look out to the fields full of cattle. He reaches for his rope and gun, settling them in their respective places.

“¡Déjala! She needs time alone.”

He heads out the backdoor. He never did listen well.

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 4 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After you helped him with his dating app, Bradley goes out with a woman who should have snagged his interest. But it's a little hard to pay attention to someone else when he's constantly thinking about you. And it doesn't help that Nat easily calls him out on his crush. 

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (eventually 18+)

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

For a split second on Friday night, you had managed to convince yourself that the sooner you helped Bradley get matched up with someone, the better it would be for you personally. 

You'd be able to stop thinking about him as a hot, single dad and be able to focus on him as the hot, taken dad who you occasionally babysat for. You could still go over and watch Noah when he and his girlfriend went out for a date night, which you wouldn't mind doing at all. 

And that's why you had helped him get his dating app sorted out. Because the sooner you could stop thinking about eating popcorn with him on his couch, both of you in sweats, the better. There was no way that man was interested in you. Sure, he was a little flirty at times. Yeah, he had brushed your cheek when he put the crown back on your head. But it was probably all because he could tell that the babysitter had a crush on him, and he was trying to be nice.

You were surprised to hear from him on Wednesday morning when you were getting out of the shower before class. 

Bradley Bradshaw: Are you available tonight?

God, it hadn't taken long for him to chat with one of the women on the app and get a date set up. 

I'm free. What time do you want me to watch Noah?

You felt your shoulders sag as you got dressed. You needed to chill out. The only thing you should be worrying about later this evening was Noah and studying for your exams. 

Bradley Bradshaw: I'm meeting someone at 6:30. Be here at 6?

Yeah. You would be there. 

When you pulled into his driveway at 5:45, you were happy to see his Bronco was already there. You were also annoyed that Greyson was blowing up your phone. You knew what he wanted, but you had been avoiding him all week. You were beginning to think that this "ex with benefits" arrangement wasn't really working for you. 

After shoving your phone into your bag, you knocked on the front door and called out, "Hi! It's me."

"We're in the kitchen."

You followed Bradley's voice, and when you spotted Noah at the table, his face lit up as he mispronounced your name. You were instantly smiling back, but that didn't last long. Because when you saw Bradley standing at the stove, he was wearing his flight jumpsuit tied low around his waist with a tight, black tee shirt. 

"Hey, Princess," he said, glancing at you over his shoulder. And with just two words and some black fabric, you were a little turned on. 

"How are you two boys doing?" you asked as casually as you could while watching Bradley's biceps stretching his shirt sleeves. 

'Good!" Noah cheered, eating a bowl of dry cereal with his hands. 

"Fine," Bradley replied. "Be a lot better if I had time to go grocery shopping. Thanks for making the spaghetti and meatballs for us." He turned to look at you again, his eyes lingering on your lips. 

"Don't you need to get ready for your date?" you asked, closing the distance between the two of you. 

"Yeah, but I'm starving. Need to eat something before dinner."

You looked at the pan on the stove. "What are you trying to make?"

"Eggs," he replied, turning to look down at you with a small smile. "Trying being the operative word."

"You're useless in here," you told him, pushing him toward the hallway. "Go get ready and I'll make you some eggs." His body was warm and hard, and it was clearly a mistake for you to touch him like this. 

"You don't have to do that," he said, laughing as he pretended you were actually capable of pushing him around. 

"I actually don't know how you managed to survive this long without me," you said, pushing him all the way to his bedroom door before he surrendered. 

"You have a valid point."

You felt buoyant as you walked back to the kitchen and made Bradley an onion and cheese omelet while you sang with Noah. "You want ants on a log?" you asked, tousling his hair. 

"I love them!" he cheered, but when you checked the refrigerator, there were no carrots left. Pretty much the only thing in there was the French vanilla coffee creamer, which instantly made you smile. You took it out and started brewing some coffee in Bradley's fancy coffee maker. 

"Is this for me?" Bradley asked, buttoning up his Hawaiian shirt right in front of you and nodding to the omelet. 

"Yep, should hold you over until your actual dinner," you said as he grabbed a fork and took a huge bite.

He moaned. He literally moaned as he ate the food you made for him. You watched him take bite after bite until it was all gone. You wished he'd use his mouth on you next. 

"That was delicious. Thank you."

You just nodded and cleared your throat. "Mind if I take Noah out in the car with me? I thought he might like the bayside playground."

"Sure. I'll put his car seat in your car before I leave," Bradley said, kissing Noah on his head. 

Once again, you thought about him kissing you there as he smiled and headed out for his date. 

"Noah, feel like going to the playground?"

"I want ants on the logs," he insisted, having finished his cereal. 

You sighed, and just as you heard Bradley pull out of the driveway, you decided to see how much money he kept behind the TV. A hundred bucks. You could go grocery shopping for a decent amount of food with a hundred dollars. 

"Should we go buy more carrots and raisins?" you asked Noah, tucking the money into your pocket. "You can pick out a treat, and then I'll make you ants on the logs before bedtime."

You ended up at the grocery store, trying to make a game out of everything to keep him entertained while you tried to maximize the money. Hopefully Bradley wouldn't be annoyed, but you figured he needed as much help as he could get. Noah was sweet, but doing everything by yourself was too hard. 

"More cereal?" you asked, and you let Noah pick out Cheerios. "And milk this time?"

When headed back to Bradley's house with ninety-eight dollars worth of groceries and Noah in tow, you couldn't help but imagine staying all night and getting more meals ready for them. 

You managed to make Noah's snack while you unpacked the groceries. "I need my crown!" he said, running to his bedroom and returning with his yellow, construction paper crown. "Get yours, too!"

You ran your fingers along his cheek. "I don't know what happened to mine. Should we make a new one?"

Noah laughed and took you by the hand. "It's in daddy's room."

You let him lead you down the hallway. "Is it?" you asked, entering Bradley's room all the way for the first time. It was tidy and it smelled like him. But you stopped short when you saw it. 

Your purple crown was hanging on one of the bedposts. 

-------------------------

Bradley was actually enjoying himself. His date with Talia was going way better than either of his previous dates. Not only did she tell him she loves kids, she asked to see some pictures of Noah.

Bradley paused for a beat as he swiped past the selfie of you in the crown and the photo you had taken for his dating profile. Then he showed Talia some pictures of Noah, and she made a fuss over how adorable he was. But now Bradley was thinking about what you and Noah might be doing at home right now. He got so distracted he barely heard what Talia was asking him. 

"Sorry, what was that?" he asked, watching her lick chocolate cake from her fork with mild interest. 

She giggled softly. "I was asking if you wanted to plan for a second date? Maybe this weekend? When we can stay out later? You said you had a reliable babysitter."

Bradley scrutinized her face for a moment. She was pretty. She seemed really sweet. She wanted to go out with him again.

"How about I send you a message? Maybe we can make something work."

When Bradley said goodbye outside the restaurant, Talia leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, grazing his mustache as she pulled away. 

"Goodnight, Bradley. Talk soon," she said with a grin. But he felt nothing. 

During the short drive home, he tried to convince himself to take Talia up on her second date offer, but it just wasn't working. But when he pulled into his driveway next to your car, he found himself jumping out of the Bronco and jogging up his front steps to get inside as quickly as he could. 

"Hi," you whispered, looking up from your spot on the couch. You had a textbook open on your lap, and you were wearing the paper crown. Either you or Noah must have retrieved it from his bedroom. The idea of you in there thrilled him a little too much. 

"Hi," he replied with a grin. "How was Noah?"

"Good. How was your date?"

"Good." His heart was beating a little faster as you set your book aside and straightened up on the couch. 

"Oh. You think you'll go out with her again?" 

Bradley couldn't help but think you looked a little disappointed. "Not sure."

"I'm beginning to think you're just really, very picky, Bradley."

He blew out a breath, dropping onto the couch next to you, loving the way you said his name. "Huh. I never considered that."

"You don't like martinis. You don't like the opera. You don't like women under twenty-four or over forty. All those martini sipping, opera loving grannies of San Diego might be just what you need." 

Bradley was doubled over laughing, looking at your smirk.

"I mean, who does that even leave for you to date?" you asked, clearly trying not to laugh.

You.

Jesus Christ. He needed to stop thinking about you like that. There was no chance in hell that was ever going to happen. Which was a real shame, because you made him laugh every single time he was with you. 

"Oh, I hope you don't mind, but Noah and I went grocery shopping."

"You did?" he asked, his laughter turning to surprise. 

"Yeah. I used the cash behind the TV," you told him with a wince. "I hope that was okay. I didn't want to bother you during dinner."

Okay? It was more than okay. He couldn't believe you had done that for him and Noah. 

"I also made you dinner for tomorrow night. Chicken fajitas that you can reheat." 

Now he was just staring at you blankly. "You don't have to do any of that stuff."

You just shrugged. "If you don't want me to, I won't. But honestly, Bradley? It looks like you could use the help around here. You're kind of shit in the kitchen."

"You caught onto that, huh?" he asked, involuntarily inching closer to you on the couch. "What gave it away?"

"Oh, I guess the fact that Noah asked me about a hundred times to leave more food in the little plastic containers for him."

Bradley reached out and ran his finger along your crown. "Did you wear that to the store?"

Your eyes fluttered closed briefly. "No. It wasn't until almost bedtime that Noah wanted to wear our crowns. I didn't know you kept it."

He just nodded. He should be embarrassed that it had been hanging on his bed. 

"I like your bedroom," you whispered. 

Bradley swallowed hard, trying to think of something to say, but you beat him to it.

"Why aren't you sure about a second date?"

His response was out before he could consider it. "Aren't there supposed to be sparks?"

You pressed your lips together and nodded. "Ideally."

"Didn't feel them," he replied with a shrug.

"Shame." 

He watched you stand and stretch, just like last time. But your shirt rode up, and Bradley could see your skin, and he wanted to press his lips there. He quickly stood as well. "Um, I'll get the carseat out of your car," he mumbled. "And if you're going to insist on being exceptionally helpful again in the future, I'll leave you my credit card for groceries."

"Okay," you replied, reaching up on your toes and gently putting the crown on his head. "Want to put that back in your room for safe keeping?"

Every ounce of his being wanted to suggest you take it there yourself and wait for him. 

"Okay," he told you instead. 

-------------------------

Bradley paced around the hangar, waiting for his turn to hit the skies. 

"What is your problem?" Nat asked him as she sat calmly on one of the benches. "I thought you'd be completely chill right now. You've been on a bunch of dates."

Bradley stopped and looked at her. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Nat just rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me you didn't get your rocks off yet?"

"No," he practically growled. "I haven't even been on a second date."

"You know, you can have one without the other, right?"

Bradley ran his hands over his face. "I don't want to start doing that."

Nat stood up and stepped in front of him, placing her hands on his chest to stop him pacing. He hadn't even been aware he had started pacing again. 

"How long has it been since you were intimate with someone?"

Bradley shrugged and didn't want to look at her. "A year."

Nat wrapped her arms around him as well as she could with them both wearing their flight suits. He felt instantly better. He should have known it would be okay to talk to her about stuff. 

"Oh, okay. I get it now. You need it to be special."

"Kind of," he replied, looking down at her as she nodded up at him. 

"I'll stop busting your balls about it then."

"Appreciate that."

"Why don't you tell me about your dates?" she prompted, patting him on the shoulder as she released him.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Not much to tell. Rebel just wanted to hookup. One didn't like kids. The one I went out with the other day was okay. I should have wanted a second date; I know she certainly did. But there wasn't anything really drawing me in? I don't know, Nat."

"Well, how's the babysitter working out?"

Bradley felt himself relax when he thought about you. "Oh, she's great. She's so funny," he said, smiling as he thought about you picking on him for being useless in the kitchen. "She always eats Skittles. And she knows the most random music. Did I mention she knows how to cook? Like really cook? She's good at it. And she likes fancy coffee creamers just like me. She even took Noah to the grocery store with her, so my fridge has actual food in it. And Noah asks for her all the time. She brings him coloring books, and she taught him how to sing the alphabet song backwards."

"Oh my God," Nat said, grinning wildly now. "You have a crush on your babysitter."

Bradley knew he was blushing. He could feel the immediate rush of heat to his face. 

"What does she look like?" Nat asked, looking smug as hell.

Bradley huffed out a breath and looked up at the ceiling, willing the redness to recede from his cheeks. "Real cute."

Nat squealed when Bradley took his phone out and found the selfie you had sent to him. "You took a picture of her!"

He shook his head. "She sent it to me. When I was out last weekend. She and Noah made the paper crowns, and she sent me a picture of Noah first."

When Nat started to stare into his soul, he should have known he was in deep shit. "And you asked her for a selfie?" she said, exuding confidence. He nodded and she said, "You asked your cute babysitter to send you a selfie when you were on a date with another woman. No wonder your dates aren't working out!" She slapped him hard on the chest.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"You're thinking about getting your dick wet with the babysitter."

Bradley absolutely could not deny that. He'd been thinking about you in a lot of different ways, including some that were definitely not rated G.

"Nat, just because I'm thinking it doesn't mean I'm going to shoot my shot with her."

"Well, why not?" she asked, putting her helmet on as they got called out to their Super Hornets.

Bradley scoffed as he followed her out into the sunlight. "She's twelve years younger than me. She's still finishing school. I have a fucking child and a lot of baggage. The list goes on and on. I'm going to focus on finding someone suitable. Someone a little older."

"If you like her, I say go for it. But don't just fuck her because she's fun and you think she's cute. Don't do that to her. Or Noah."

Bradley was more confused than ever at the moment, and he needed to clear his head before he took off.

"I wouldn't do that to myself either, Nat." He wasn't just trying to hookup with some random woman; he could do that after an hour at the Hard Deck if he really wanted to.

"Well I want to meet her. This weekend. I'll take you out on Saturday night and meet her then."

He sighed. "I have a date on Friday. Let me see if she's even free to watch Noah both nights."

"Great," Nat replied, turning toward her own aircraft. "And then I'll be the judge of the matter of you getting your dick wet," she called over her shoulder.

Bradley cringed as the ground staff all looked at him as he power walked away. 

-------------------------

Bradley asked if you could babysit Noah on back to back nights. Friday and Saturday. Was he already planning a first date followed immediately by a second date? He had probably really hit it off with someone over the app chat feature. It was the only thing that made sense, and he was just trying to cover all of his bases. 

You could watch Noah both nights if you cancelled your plans to hang out with Greyson. The fact that you would rather get to see Bradley for a total of thirty minutes over spending the night with Greyson was telling. 

Yeah, I can come over both nights if you pay me a bonus in fancy coffee from that shop again. 

When you checked your phone at lunchtime while you ate between your classes, Bradley's response made you laugh. 

Bradley Bradshaw: You mean I have to flirt with the barista again? Princess, I'll get kicked out permanently. 

You were smiling nonstop as you typed out a response. 

Do it for me and my caffeine needs? Besides, I doubt the barista will mind being chatted up by you in particular. 

You really shouldn't be encouraging this. It was not a good idea. This man was not available for you. 

Bradley Bradshaw: Oh yeah, Princess? What's that supposed to mean?

Shouldn't he be working right now? Didn't he have a jet he should be flying around in? You couldn't help yourself. You were too excited by the prospect of flirting with him. 

Have you seen yourself? I have full confidence that your flirting capabilities can score me a free coffee. 

You hustled along to your next class, but when you checked your phone again at the end of the day, he had texted you back again.

Bradley Bradshaw: Good to know. See you tomorrow.

-------------------------

Bradley wasn't sure why he was doing it, but he managed to leave base a little early on Friday, giving him time to stop at the coffee shop. He picked Noah up with your French vanilla coffee in his cup holder, and now the Bronco smelled sweet and reminded him of you. 

"Can I play with my babysitter?" Noah asked as Bradley buckled him into his car seat. 

Bradley smiled. "Sure, bub. You can play with her."

"She's my favorite," Noah said. "Is she your favorite?" 

Bradley nodded at his son and said, "Yeah. She's my favorite, too."

-------------------------

And now Nat is about to get involved again. Could be a good thing, could be a bad thing. I hope you enjoy your babysitter fic @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 5

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[kinda-super-hot]

I Want More. (2)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Pairing: Harvey Specter x F!Lawyer!Reader - friends to enemies to lovers <3

Part 2 Summary: Well, (Y/n)'s first day doesn't go as she had planned. She learns that she is office neighbors with Harvey Douchebag Specter. Luckily, she makes quite a few gal pals + Louis. Harvey brings her what might be a peace offering, and she learns they will be working closer together than she thought.

Warnings: overthinking - I think that's it but if you noticed something I missed, please let me know.

Word Count: 4038

I wake up from my first night in my new apartment to the sound of busy traffic and honking horns outside. “Blegh...” I mutter and force myself out of bed. Today’s the day- My first day on the job! “Ok, time to get hype.”

I hop to the bathroom and poke at my eyebags for a moment before doing light, office appropriate makeup. I’d picked my outfit out the night before and I had to squeal just at the sight of it laying on the bed. A hot pink dress shirt that I planned to leave more than a few buttons undone towards the top- just enough to not get written up! And a black pencil skirt for the shirt to get tucked into with some pointy, black pumps.

The way I see it, this is my first impression, and I need them to know not only do I mean business but I’m bold.

I take my time curling my hair and even make myself an egg to really soak up my morning. And finally, just as my toast pops up, I snatch it and walk out the door with my thin suitcase.

It’s a short walk towards the firm and I can’t keep the smile off my face. I beam at people walking in the opposite direction and occasionally get a smile back! Nothing could ruin this perfect morning. My optimism was not prepared for me to glance towards the building and catch sight of a familiar face, however.

 Time slowed, but my heart sure didn’t. Across the street and right in front of my new place of work was Harvey Douchebag Specter getting out of a limousine. I stopped in my tracks and let out an audible gasp.

I watch him walk until he disappears into Pearson Hardman. What. The. Fuck.

Ok, ok, don’t panic. He’s probably from another firm and just has a meeting with another lawyer. All I have to do is keep my head held high. Obviously, also actively avoid him if I see him, but otherwise, pretend I never saw him.

I take a deep breath and keep walking. My heart is RACING, but I won’t let him ruin this for me.

I walk through the glass doors and don’t see him. Good, he must have gone up already. I waste no time introducing myself to the lobby ladies, taking my employee picture, and getting my newly printed employee ID.

Ok, everything is going fine. We’re alright. I scan my keycard and make my way to the elevator. “(Y/N) (L/N)!” Shit.

I turn around, but thankfully, it’s a new face. “I thought that was you.” A beautiful, confident black woman glides over to me. She reaches her hand out, and I shake it with a smile, despite not knowing this lady. “Jessica Pearson.”

“Oh!” A real smile takes over my face and I shake her hand more enthusiastically. “It is so good to finally meet you. I must say, my first impression of the firm: very impressive.” I’m saying the absolute truth, but I also want to smooth talk her. “I’m thrilled to be working here, Ms. Pearson.”

She releases my hand and smiles at me, but her eyes say something different. I can tell that she’s a great lawyer just by this first encounter. Her face is warm and inviting but her piercing gaze says mischief in big, bold letters. “I’m glad to hear it. I have a very busy morning ahead of me, so one of our Junior Associates will be giving you the tour.” She looks over my shoulder and I turn to see a mousey, stout looking man. “This is Louis Litt. You will be working closely together on the same floor with both myself and one of our Senior Partners.”

I smile at Louis and reach my hand out, he beams at me, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Litt. I can’t wait to be working with you.” Once again, I try to flatter the person in front of me.

His smile grows wider, and he looks to Jessica behind me before his eyes dart back to mine. “The pleasure’s all mine.” He hesitates to release my hand, and I inwardly laugh at his awkwardness. “We can start the tour right away.”

We all get into the elevator and instead of getting off at each floor and showing me around, Louis pulls out some papers from his pocket. “This is a list telling you exactly what you need to know about each and every floor. What they work on, who manages it, and the phone number for the head receptionist if you ever have any questions.” I take the stack of papers from his hands, and find they are heavier than they look.

“Oof, thank you.” I have to re-straighten my knees from the new weight just placed on them. Jessica raises her brow in Louis’s direction. I flip through some of the pages. Everything he said was on here plus more. Something tells me he wants to show me the type of guy he is by giving me this surplus of paper.

“You’re welcome. Though, you won’t really need to travel to other floors,” He comments, “that’s what the lacky associates are for.” He nudges me with his elbow and lets out a laugh. I do as well, more to keep the cramped space from being uncomfortable than actually finding it funny. Jessica rolls her eyes, and I am obsessed with her refusal to put on an act for him. “No,” he clears his throat, “most of your work will be done…here.”

The elevator doors open, and I’m met with familiar sounds of clicking away at computer keys and phones ringing. I smile and step out onto the floor instantly. It’s everything my old firm was, but better. More advanced, more colleagues, more in general. I let out a pumped-up, “Yes!” and punch the air as discreetly as I can.

Jessica takes over swiftly by saying, “There’s more.” We follow her down a long hallway and pass an office with Louis’s name on it as well as one with Jessica’s name until I see one with my name. There’s a corner office directly to the left of it but I don’t bother looking at the name, I found what I was looking for.

“Oh, wow.” I breathe out to the furnished office that still felt empty. “I can’t wait to put my own flare in here. I can see it now,” I throw my hands out from my sides and walk through the office, I think out loud, “A vintage end table would be so cute here, maybe a fancy vase on top with some fresh carnations...” I ponder.

Jessica hums from the doorway and I turn to see a new person has joined my entourage. “Sounds cute, I can tell we’re gonna be friends.” The new woman is much more relaxed than Jessica and Louis. She has voluptuous, orange hair and a charming smile. “I’m Donna. I work for your grumpy colleague on the other side of this wall.” She knocks on the conjoining wall.

“Nice to meet you, Donna! I’m (Y/N) (L/N).” I look over her outfit. “And by the look of those shoes, we’re going to be the best of friends.” I give her shoes a pointed look and we laugh together.

“Oh, we needed a girly like you in the office.” She squeezes my shoulder. “You let me know if you need anything, and I will get it done. I’ll be your temporary secretary up until you get too many clients and we have to hire someone new. Though, I’m sure it won’t be long with a personality like yours.” She flips her hair and walks out.

“I love her.” I breathe out and turn to Jessica. She smiles before her eyes glance just above my head.

“What great timing!” I turn around, ready to greet whoever else I’ll be working with. “(Y/N), this is our Senior Partner, Harvey Specter.” My smile drops as I look at his face. He’s changed. There are lines on his forehead that weren’t there before. He wasn’t scrawny anymore, either, he’d beefed up. His shoulder width was probably double the size of mine. But when my eyes met his, I knew it was most definitely the same Harvey. “Harvey, this is our new Junior Partner, Ms. (L/N).” We both freeze in shock, looking each other over, analyzing what might have changed.

Tension. Unbelievable tension fills the hall, and I’m sure everyone has stopped what they’re doing to watch our interaction. Harvey’s face, that is usually so great at hiding how he feels, is failing him. His mouth is slightly agape, and his brows are raised the smallest bit. His big, brown eyes widen the more he looks at me. Stunned is the only way to describe him, and that doesn’t even begin to cover it. Though, I’m sure I don’t look much better.

The silence becomes awkward. I clear my throat, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Specter.” I reach my hand out sharply and remove my gaze from him, preferring the wall. What am I doing?!  “I’m sure we’ll work great together.” My tone is curt, and I have the best smile I can muster on my face. I look him in the eyes once more, silently urging him to shake my hand.

He recovers and clears his throat as well before shaking my hand. “I can’t agree more.” Oh god. I roll my eyes and remove my hand from his grasp. “If you’ll excuse me.” His face is back to being unreadable as he turns and walks into the office right next to mine.

No- I read the name on the glass: Harvey Specter. I clench my jaw; I have to get through this. I turn my head back to Jessica. “Well, what’s next?”

_

I received the grand tour of the floor and was then told by Louis to make myself comfortable. The company’s top paralegal would come to speak with me as soon as she was available. I gave him a tight smile before sitting in my office very distressed. “Fuck.”

I want to close my blinds so I can peacefully bang my head into the wall without anyone seeing, but I don’t want to seem closed off. I wonder if I should sit here any longer and wallow in self-pity. “Fuck it.”

I get up from my very comfortable, very expensive chair and leave my office. I can’t help looking over my shoulder as I walk away from it to see if he is still in his office, but all I see is an empty chair. Ok, that means I need to be aware. He’s probably prowling around here somewhere…

“Are… you alright?” I stop surveying my surroundings when a younger man with blonde hair and a skinny necktie talks to me from his cubicle. “You’re, like, scowling at the entire bullpen.”

“Oh, I-I’m sorry.” I fix my face before walking to the man’s cubicle. “I swear I’m not an a-hole, I’m just…” I stop myself as I continue surveying. I need a confidante. I stare right into his soul and bend down so we’re on the same level. “Can I tell you something you will never ever tell anyone else in your entire life?”

He retreats back in his seat a little flabbergasted. “You know, confessing to murder in a law firm probably isn’t the best idea.” I smile at his joke, cool kid.

“Oh, it’s much, much worse.” I stand straight again and lean onto my right leg with my hip jutted out. I smirk as he raises a brow, “So, there’s this guy-”

“You just got here and you’re already talking about guys you’re into?” A tall, tan brunette asks me with sass. Her eyebrows are raised, and her smirk tells me she’s my type of people. “I’m Rachel, top paralegal.” She reaches her hand out.

I shake it, “I’m (Y/N) (L/N), the new Junior Partner.” I smile at her before turning back to the associate I was talking to. “Gosh, sorry! I never asked your name?”

“You were going to confess murder to me, and you didn’t even know my name?” His brows furrow and I roll my eyes jokingly.

“I needed a confidante!” I joke though it’s not really a joke. “Trust me, I’ve had a really odd first day.” I turn to Rachel, “Though, I think I’ve found your replacement.” I return my gaze to the kid. “Sorry it didn’t work out; I’ve just met my match.” I shrug and nod towards my office, Rachel follows behind me as I walk in.

She giggles behind me. “His name is Mike by the way.” I sit in my new, cool chair and let out an exasperated sigh. I motion her to sit across from me. “I’m not a counselor, by the way, but I totally support a girl who needs a quick rant sesh.” She jokingly grabs a writing pad from atop my desk and clicks a pen that was formerly behind her ear. “And, trust me, you are way better off with me than Mike.”

I smile at her thankfully. She says nothing but nods her head, waiting for me to start talking. I groan dramatically and slouch in my chair. “Rachel- you wouldn’t believe what I’ve had to go through today!” She’s already writing on her pad. “My ex who I haven’t seen since law school is my office neighbor-”

Her pen drops from her hand, and she looks deep into my eyes as if making sure what I’m about to say is nothing but the absolute truth. “Harvey?” I nod and hide behind my hands. “Oh. My. God.” She breathes out in shock.

“Well, technically, we were never boyfriend-girlfriend,” she gives me a questioning look, “but we did kiss and go on dates.”

“So, boyfriend girlfriend?” She questioned and I could tell she got it.

“Exactly! But someone doesn’t like labels or commitment or head apparently.” I huff and sink deeper into my chair. When we were together, Harvey and I had the occasional heated make out, but had only just started having sex before we broke it off.

I look back to Rachel and her mouth is still wide open. “W-Well…” Her eyes are everywhere but me. She fidgets with her fingers in her lap, and I feel like I’ve traumatized the poor girl.

“Rachel, I know you’re not a counselor, but I expected more than this.” I can’t help but laugh as she gawks. “Don’t tell me I need to go back to Mike!” I joke and put my hands on my desk to lift myself out of my seat.

“No!” She yells and throws her hands out in front of her, urging me to be seated once again. I freeze before plopping back in my seat. “Mike is Harvey’s personal associate, he’s like his right-hand man.”

My lips create an O. If I told Mike, there’s a good chance he would have told Harvey. “Well, it’s a good thing you saved me when you did.” I smile at her and let out a sad sigh. “I’m really glad you’re here. You and Donna are gonna be my girls, I can tell.”

“Oh, Donna is the best.” She stops and winces before she continues, “She is also Harvey’s right-hand woman.” I let out an exasperated groan. “But! She’s all girl code! You can absolutely trust her so long as you’re not conspiring against Harvey… probably even then too.” I stand from my desk and move to her seat while giving her arm an appreciative squeeze.

“Thank you, Rachel. I’m super happy I get to work with you.” I pull her into a hug that she’s not prepared for which is evident when she lets out a squeak. She pats my arm awkwardly.

_

I get through the rest of the day, just getting adjusted to the system the company uses and setting up passwords for mandatory accounts. Only when it’s pitch back outside am I interrupted.

I sense someone at my office door, someone I’ve been expecting. “Ms. Pearson.” I smile but don’t look up from my computer. I’m not surprised by her dropping in.

“Ms. (L/N).” She greets back. I wait for her to continue but there is silence. My quick fingers slow their typing, and I look up at her, but she’s already looking at me expectantly. “Spill.”

I’m about to act like I have no idea what she’s talking about, but it’s like she reads my mind. She raises her hand to stop the lies I’m about to spew and squints her eyes. Scary. “I know him.”

“Well that much is obvious.” She glides to my desk before perching on the edge and crossing her arms. “But why were your reactions to each other so… hostile?” Her expression evolves from confusion to intrigue.

“I don’t know if I’d call it hostile…” Her expression doesn’t waver, and I cave. I can’t help but spill every secret I have when she looks at me like that. “…but I swear, when I applied for this job, I had no idea he worked here.” I finished my story out of breath and worried about what she would think of me and my character.

“Hm.” She thinks for a minute before standing. “Hm.” Again, she hums in thought before briskly walking out of the room. My mind is racing but there’s also not a rational thought.

_

I walk into the firm the next day wearing another pink top, this one more pastel. I refuse to cower down, especially to Harvey.

“Good morning!” I say to just about every associate in the bullpen. When I finally reach Mike, my smile grows tenfold. “’ Morning, you.”

He pulls out one of his earbuds. “Still don’t know my name?” He asks playfully but doesn’t look up from his computer.

“Mike,” I speak. He nods but still won’t look at me. If this is Harvey’s right-hand man, I need to be on good terms with him, and maybe get some info, too. “So, you work for Mr. Specter?” I try to be nonchalant while getting information. He stops clicking at his computer and gives me a weird look. “What?”

“Mr. Specter?” He pulls his only earbud from his ear and leans back in his chair. “That’s awfully formal.” I don’t like this. He gives me a quizzical look before he comes to some sort of realization. “That’s why you guys were so weird yesterday…”

“What?” I can feel myself start sweating and my voice is at least two, maybe three pitches higher than before. “We weren’t weird-that’s a weird thing to say- you’re weird.” I huff and can tell he’s not buying it. “Ugh, how obvious was it?”

He ignores my question. “How do you know him? One night stand?” I can’t help but grimace at the thought, “No? Oh, you must be the girl from France.” A pang of unexplainable hurt goes through my chest. He’s not mine, never was actually, it’s pointless for me to feel- “Jealous.” His eyes widen, “You loved him.”

My throat tightens and my mouth runs dry. “You have some nerve.” I fight to keep my voice level. “When you’re done making assumptions about me, and being an overall smartass, see me in my office.” I walk away from him.

I pull out my phone, contacting Louis to tell him I’m in the office so he can come talk to me about what duties would be passed on to me. As I do so, I see a figure out of the corner of my eye right outside my office door. One that’s awfully Harvey shaped.

I stop texting to make sure my eyes aren’t failing me. Sure enough, Harvey is leaned against the glass wall that separates me from the bullpen. In his hand is a drink carrier with what looks to be two hot coffees. He’s wearing a navy-blue suit and a… pastel pink tie that matches my shirt to a T.

He looks at me and pulls his body from the wall. His face is unsure, not very Harvey-like. “’ Morning.” He extends his arm with the coffee in it towards me. I can smell the delectable caramel macchiato that he knows I love. I eye the cup suspiciously, and then I eye him suspiciously.

“’ Morning.” I take the coffee and look at the familiar label. It was no Starbucks, that’s for sure. No, this coffee was from Samson’s Brewery. The same mom-and-pop coffee shop that we would go to during late night study sessions. This coffee place is on the literal whole other side of town, he didn’t go out of his way for this… did he? No, he definitely either door-dashed it or sent a driver.

His eyes don’t leave my face as I inspect the beverage. Once I deduce it’s not poisoned, I look up at him. For the first time since seeing him, I’m not a panicked mess. I just look at him, his gelled hair and puppy dog eyes.  I’m staring. I avert my gaze and mutter a, “Thanks,” before pushing past him into my office.

I stop myself from closing the door behind me. He won’t. He won’t walk in. I sit in my chair and put the coffee on my desk. I stare at it intently, trying not to remember the late nights we spent together. But I also stare at it, so I don’t look at the door, so I don’t look to see if he’s still there.

There are three quick knocks at my door. I look up with hope I can’t mask, only to be disappointed. “Hey, girly.��� It’s Louis. I look over his shoulder, but there’s no one.

“G’morning, Louis.” I smile through the pain. “How are you doing?” I side-eye the coffee on my desk like it’ll disappear if I leave it alone too long.

“Same old, same old, I just convinced a major pharmacy company that they needed to break a deal with…” He drones on for a little bit, bragging to me about accomplishments I could do in my sleep. “But, anyway! I came to tell you about the workload you’ll be taking on. Seeing as Harvey is the closest Senior Partner on the floor, you’ll be shadowing him for the next few days. Just until you think you’re ready to fly solo.” He says that like it’s nothing, and I guess it would be for anyone else.

“So, like an associate?” My face scrunches up. “Why can’t I just shadow you, then? Aren’t you in charge of the associates?” I cross my arms.

He chuckles. “I wish, but we’re both Junior Partners, for the time being-” He winks at me. Poor guy, I’m sure he’s been waiting to be Senior Partner for a while. “So, you technically need trained by a Senior Partner.”

“Great.” I have a tight-lipped smile and unconsciously reach for the coffee on my desk. I bring it up to my lips and hum at the nostalgic taste before I even realize I’ve done it. I stop mid-sip and lick my lips guiltily.

“What coffee place is that from?” Louis gets closer and squints at my cup. When he doesn’t recognize it, he pulls away. “The best coffee around is Roaster-Roos right down the way,” He uses his thumb to point over his shoulder. A coy look flashes across his face, “I could go get you one if you want.”

“No. No, this is fine, thank you.” I say a little too quickly. I hold the cup closer to my chest and grip it a little tighter. He shrugs and I clear my throat, “When does this shadowing begin?”

“ASAP.” He snaps and turns his back to me to walk out the door. “Harvey’s in the office right next to yours,” He pivots outside the door to face me again. “He’s kind of cocky, so let me know if you need anything.” He smiles with raised eyebrows. I nod hesitantly in discomfort before he goes to the left and disappears from sight. A long exhale leaves my body. “Why me?”

[spicemaidenfic]

How do they feel about dress-up? 🦸

Featuring the OG Avengers + Loki. Written from a bi woman's perspective. NSFW under the cut! ⚠️🔞

Tony Stark

Tony Stark is Iron-Man, but also believes that if you’re nothing without the suit, you shouldn’t have it. It’s never actually occurred to him to fuck you with it on. Approach him about it and he’ll probably give you a look and tease you about being such a kinky girl, but he’ll oblige you (nanotech makes it easy). He may or may not be thinking inwardly that he finds your being into that a little weird, if he’d never tell you so. Maybe if you put on the little suit he made you for your birthday one year and start bossing him around a bit, he’ll start to get it.

Steve Rogers

Steve would laugh and shake his head if you told him you wanted him to wear the Cap suit to bed. Once he realized you were serious, he’d oblige you, and maybe even be kind enough to throw in a cheeky “I could do this all day,” but he’d find the whole thing too cheesy to bust out the costume any more often than very occasionally. Maybe you can come to some kind of a Fourth of July arrangement. What Steve would really like? You telling him how good you think he looks in uniform—the other uniform, which has come back into his possession, and which he would make love to you in readily, if only you would ask.

Thor

Thor loves his Asgardian get-up just as much as the next Asgardian guy. Makes him feel like a hero. Yes of course he’ll fuck you in full dress! Of course. Of course. It’ll make for a fun change of pace from his default buck naked.

Loki

If you've gotten to the point with Loki where you're both fully in the nude when you fuck, that's when you know he's officially fallen for you. Tell him you kinda miss the armor, and he’ll understand. He'll call you a wanton wench, or something similar, but he'll understand. "Did you also want me to wear the horns, lambkin?"

Bruce Banner

You think the Hulk is hot? That’s flattering…and a little weird. Look, Bruce has hulked-off before, as Smart Hulk, if you must know, and in his opinion it’s just not worth the clean-up. Fine, he’ll do it on you once, just to prove to you what color it is. If you want to play dress-up, he’d honestly rather fuck you in his glasses and trusty lab coat, and he wouldn’t say no to you calling him “Dr. Banner” for a change.

Black Widow

Natasha has a traumatic history with the catsuit, but she’ll be able to compartmentalize that when you confess that you find it sexy on her. She knows how good she looks, and she’s liable to give you a smirk that says as much. Tell her you want to play spy and have her take you down with some karate then fuck you with a strap-on? That’ll give her pause for about two seconds, then she’ll head promptly to the closet. But what would get Nat really hot? You trying to undress her when she’s just got off a job. But don’t go all the way with it. She’d love it if you’d unzip her just enough that you can play with her nipples. That suit is tight, and she’ll be able to get a good amount of friction down below just by rocking her hips with it on (ask her how she knows). It might even be enough for her to come, if you’re helping her along.

Hawkeye

Clint will laugh in your face when you make the request. Then he’ll have the audacity to say, “Oh baby, I thought you’d never ask.” Get ready for some dirty archery wordplay, because he’s making the most of this opportunity.

gif sources: x, x, x, x, x, x, x

[spookykoolkat]

eddie m. – you're just so sweet

MDNI!!!! 18+ only! read at ur own risk!

chapter 1: that damn bikini

part two here | main masterlist

dad's friend!eddie munson x daughter!plussize reader

na: first eddie munsons x reader smut, and i'm excited! more parts to this series of course, but pls let me know ur thoughts! suggestions for the next part or upcoming parts, i love feedback!!

warnings: age gap (18 years), reader is 25, eddie is 43, mentions of self image issues, foreplay (fingering), dirty talk, talks of oral sex (f receiving), talks of penetration (p in v), and more!

Wrong. It's just wrong, and you knew why. Eddie had been around for the longest time. Every family party, every dinner, every birthday. He watched you be sent off to college by your parents, he watched you turn eighteen, he watched you learn how to drive, and he watched you turn into a woman. The thing you hated was the fact that he never looked at you the way you wanted him to, and you tried since you turned 18.

It was so annoying. He saw you grow into a woman yet still paid no mind to the little girl in the house, focusing on his friendship with your parents, more specifically your father. Now, you're back from living in California for a week just in time for your mother's birthday. She was turning 47, your dad standing at 50, and Eddie standing at 43. And here you were, at the store at a whopping 25 years old, buying booze for the parents and the parents friends. You handed the cashier a crisp 100 dollar bill and took the brown paper bag after being handed your change and receipt.

Get your shit together.

It's been a long day, and it's going to be an even longer night, especially with Eddie being inevitably being there. It's been almost 5 years since Eddie last saw you, and now it's become clear you've grown into yourself. You were bigger—everywhere. Bigger breasts, bigger thighs, bigger stomach, bigger arms, bigger ass—anything that could've grown, grew times five. You embraced your weight, your lifestyle, your body, and you knew that no matter what you looked like, you felt like you. But the closer you approached your parents very large house, the closer you felt you were walking into a bear trap willingly. There was a part of you that appreciated the fact that your father's friend wasn't a creep. He wasn't counting down the days you turned 18, like you thought. You thought maybe you'd turn 18 and that he'd try dropping hints, or acknowledging you in the way you wanted. But nothing.

It was maddening. The last time you saw him was on Christmas break from college, and he gifted you a bracelet with your UNI colors. Innocent, small gift to show he cared about you, but also almost setting a boundary.

But now pulling into your family's neighborhood, you spot the house you grew up in and the four cars parked out in front. One black truck belonging to Eddie himself, the other three belonging to your mom and dad. You wondered if he was still the punk rock, shirtless auto-mechanic, guitar playing Eddie. Maybe he'd grown out of the black nail polish and long shag he had, maybe he'd become a business man rather than an occasional entertainer by night and a body shop owner by day. You knew Eddie had been a metalhead since his high school days, you overheard conversations about his bandmates who were also his high school friends, about his endless partying and drinking era, you heard everything. It made you wonder if you had been in high school when he was, would he have looked your way?

"It's fine, it's just a week. You can do this," you breathed, parking on the curb and grabbing your purse and the bag of booze, stepping out into the humid hot air of Texas.

The entire walk to the front door was like walking on pins and needles, it was agonizing because the entire time you were imagining just what Eddie would say seeing you. It wasn't that you had never met another man, you weren't a virgin and hadn't been for a long time. It was the fact that every man you fucked, you were bored. It was abrupt, painful and not good pain, dry, no effort, no foreplay, no love. You hated it, but still indulged for something to scratch the itch you had.

You knocked on the door and three seconds later, it opens to your mothers face.

"Oh, baby doll you're here!" She squeals, her short frame hugging you tight as you hug her back

"Happy birthday mama, I love you," You say and kiss her head. That's when you look up and see him. He was exactly the same. Sporting a wife beater with a very worn black flannel and black cargo pants, his hair curly and long still in his shapely shag, his eyes wide and puppy like as he stares you down as if he'd never seen you before. To be fair, he never saw you like this. Eddie Munson never looked at you as anything more than his friends daughter, his buddy's kid.

"Hey kid," He said, sporting a small smile as he soaks you up. Eddie was even a little confused, wondering why he himself was taking in your person more than usual. He was a single man in his early forties, still refusing to get with a woman if she doesn't at least know a single metal song. He had standards, they were low, but standards by any means.

Your mother lets go and grabs the bag of booze, releasing you to greet Eddie. You go to embrace him, your face hitting his silver chains sitting on his sternum.

"Hey Munson," You said, a small smile in your voice and he wraps his arms around you tight, lifting you off your feet like you were a kid and spun you.

"That really you kid? Didn't even recognize you with the new bling on your face," he joked, setting you to stand on your feet with his help of stabilizing you.

He poked the new metal through your face on both eyebrows and your septum. He flicks them with an intrigued gaze, and you swat his hand.

"Yeah, guess I'm just like someone I know," and you take your finger to flick at his single brow piercing he got over the years. You always admired his accessories, as you called them. His tattoos, his piercing, his scars, his rings. You remembered when you spent days looking out your window at the man who was your neighbor, mowing your and his lawn, plucking weeds, and even occasional gardening. You saw the way he sweat and how it made his tattoos glossy, wanting to trace over all of them with just your fingers.

"Mm, I'm flattered sweetheart. Taking after your old man huh?" He said as he finally took a small glance at your body. You noticed of course, but he thought he was slick as ice.

"Something like that. Just coming into my own." You smile, backing up a little as you remembered your bags.

"Yeah, that I can tell," he mumbles under his breath.

"Huh?" You asked, hearing a small grumble from him that he didn't expect you to hear.

"Oh, uh, you have your bags right? I'll get em for you. You just sit and look pretty," He grins, gliding past you fast enough for you to get a whiff of the smell of weed and cologne and smoke. You almost felt like a cartoon character smelling a pie from a window sill, how were you going to do this?

He wasn't sure the emotions he was feeling as of now were appropriate or not. As he opened the trunk of your small car, he pulled the pink suitcase out as well as a black backpack you had. Packing light, he noticed. How long were you staying? And how did you turn into a woman over night?

He was ashamed to admit to himself he thought about feeling every curve of your body when he had his arms around you. Fighting the urge, he resulted to the lift and spin. Eddie never looked at anyone at all. Let alone a woman almost twenty years younger than him. He was cursing at himself every step back into the house after shutting the trunk, telling himself to cool it, relax.

"I can take them up to my room, thank you." You said looking up at him, reaching for the handle of the suitcase.

"Nah, no can do, who would I be if I let you do this yourself?" He shunned, nudging your hand away with his elbow, his hand gripping the strap of the backpack.

Eddie decided to drag your suitcase up the stairs while humming to some song that didn't ring a bell for you, and you followed. You weren't as nervous anymore, not feeling any need to be. You knew nothing would happen between you two, and you were, not happy about it, but okay about it.

"Where to, madam?" He asked, stopping in the hall of where four doors are.

"Straight down, first door to the right." You announced, scooting past him to lead into the room. When you made your way past him, he felt the graze of your hips hitting his, and the whiff of a sweet smelling fragrance, something close to something citrusy. You were tempting him and you didn't even know.

He wasn't stupid. He noticed you didn't look how you did before. He noticed the weight gain but with the weight, came height, and with height came growth everywhere. It was true what they said about turning 25, the second growth spurt turned you into the person you'll be for a while. And he noticed yours. But Eddie—he didn't see it the way your mother did, or even your old friends.

"We should go to the gym together, maybe start our diets at the same time."

"You're not sad are you? You're getting big, baby."

"You ever asked your doctor about how to lose weight?"

"What happened, mami? You used to be so skinny!"

He finally saw you. You were a fucking woman. You acted like it too, he heard it in your voice, saw it in your face. He saw it in your clothes, in your curves, the thickness you had everywhere. He almost salivated at it until you started trying to snap him out of his daze.

"You can put them right there, I said," You repeated, and Eddie gave a small breathy chuckle as he nodded and walked into the pink room filled with stuffed animals, posters, knick knacks and figurines.

"Nice room, missy." He said, setting down your backpack on the vanity chair pushed into the large desk.

"Didn't know you were such a fan of pink, ya know. You screamed more," He stopped and paused to think, pointer finger tapping his chin.

"I'll say light blue. More oceanic, lochness monster type thing." He said, making his way to the door. He noticed the reality of being a grown man in her childhood bedroom, and decided this was enough boundary pushing. You didn't know how sexy his aesthetic would be clashing against your girly pink room, seeing him so out of place was almost enjoyable.

"Well, let me know if you need anything, I'll be helping your parents set up everything for this ragerrrr," He says, sticking his tongue out and putting his fingers up to form the rockstar pose, bored.

"Right. I'll help too I just-" You started but he shook his head dramatically.

"Uh uh, I'm the guest, I'll help. You just get dressed so your mom doesn't flip on you for being late to her birthday party," he pointed at you and shot a small finger gun, making you laugh softly.

"Yeah, okay. See you," you said and he nodded,

"Back at you."

❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥

The pool was already being used by your guests, your mothers friends, their spouses and two to three kids playing in the grass. You watched from the window on the second floor facing the large backyard with people much older than you, drinking, socializing, and your father on the barbecue pit with Eddie Munson himself beside him. His sleeves were rolled up with a rag hanging out of his back pocket just like a chain in his other.

You were done getting ready at this time, three in the afternoon, and really all you did was put on a red two piece, a knitted black halter dress over, and some black platform sandals. Your hair was kept in a high bun with a clip and your face only had a touch of blush and lip gloss. You figured a full face would be a bit ridiculous since you plan on getting in the water and laying by the pool. You grabbed a towel from your closet and started to head out to the backyard.

"You're here!!" One of your mothers friends shouted the minute you slid open the backdoor, a smiling woman heading your way to pinch your cheeks and ask you all about college.

While you were distracted, Eddie followed as his eyes led him to you. Your father was talking his ear off and the minute his eyes reached you, it all sounded like he was underwater. No music, no chit chat, no birds. He heard nothing but gargles and muted voices as he watched you greet the older women. For Eddie, it felt like everything was in slow motion.

Even slower when you finally broke free from the women and made your way to an empty side of the pool.

"Ed, turn the fucking burger," Your father nudged Eddie, forcing him to whip his head around to the burning meat on the grill to flip and let the other side cook. He couldn't be doing this, he couldn't be watching you the way he was but the minute your father leaves to get another beer, his eyes went searching for you again. And when he found you, he felt his heart sink.

You stood there at the edge of the pool, in a tied up two piece bikini that was fire red, your arms up as your hands dance in your hair to pull the clip from within. The groan he let out was almost something he couldn't tell actually happened or not, but it was a low guttural groan. A hungry groan. He almost looked around to see if anyone saw what he saw, but realized everyone here is pushing 50. Of course they wouldn't be looking. But he was, and he was angry.

How dare you walk out in something of that nature? Skimpy, small, two pieces of cloth practically hiding nothing. Eddie could not pull his eyes off of you, and he didn't want to. It truly felt like he didn't know you, he didn't know this woman. He only knew you as the kid who rode on her bike in the early 2000s.

But that wasn't you anymore. You had a degree, you had a job, you drank and did drugs, you've had sex—a lot. You weren't a kid anymore, and he saw it now. He took particular interest in the way the bikini top did you so much justice, the way the fabric was pressed into your skin made him itch to rub himself in the way you had. He was enamored with you, with every step you took, your skin jiggled and moved. He liked seeing you like this more than he'd like to admit, he was enjoying this little show you didn't even know you were putting on. Without realizing, Eddie started ferociously eating the bag of chips that sat next to him, watching your every move as you test the waters with your toes, adjusting your bathing suit so you wouldn't flash anyone. His eyes were drowned in lust and want, and he was thinking about everything but your body in his hands so his little Eddie wouldn't tell on himself.

"Alright, they're done. Put em in the pan and take them inside," Your father ordered just as you had turned to walk towards the stairs of the pool. Eddie found himself distracted, by his own daughter, and moved the bag of chips to face his friend.

"Right, er, let me get them set," Eddie spoke, placing all the meat in the pan and taking them to be put inside so your mother can dress them and set up the food table.

You on the other hand, watched as he took them inside. Your feet dipping into the pool as he finally entered the house, you decided to fully submerge yourself just for a bit so you could get the heat off of you for a second, you'd do anything to get out of this heat. It wasn't like Cali, the air was dry and hot but this, Texas heat ruined you. The humidity, the heat, and the quality of air just did not mix well. The minute you came up, he was right back out again, drinking his beer and talking with your father. Your hands go to clear your face and rub your hands to slick back your hair, deciding to swim about a little as people start to clear the pool area to go and eat or drink more.

You enjoyed the emptiness of the pool and the sound of music blasting in the background, you ended up getting a little too relaxed and started to float mindlessly, letting your body lift with no hesitation.

Eddie decided to go home to change out of his clothes, the ones before him smelling like barbecue and rust. As he walks past the pool to go home, his eyes rake over your loose body now. Your eyes were closed and your arms were spread out, floating and relaxing, and he loved it.

When he got home, he put on a simple black tee with his faded leather jacket, black straight let jeans and his regular boots he wore without a fail. It was fast, quick, he wanted to return as fast as possible after cleaning up a bit and see you again. The fact that no conversation has really been ignited between the two of you was kind of bothering him, so once he came back he looked to find you out of the pool, lounging on one of the long white chairs lined against the right side of the pool. How odd did he feel sitting in the chair next to you layered in clothes, while you were two tugs away at being naked and bare. He did it anyways.

"You gonna stare or say something?" You asked, your hands blocking the sun from your eyes as you opened them to turn to his face.

"You remembered to use sunscreen?" He asked awkwardly. You raised an eyebrow.

"Uh, yeah. Did you remember it's one hundred degrees in Texas and you're wearing all black. And a leather jacket?" You asked in a snarky tone, closing your eyes and letting your arm fall to your side.

"Mmm, I don't dress for the weather sweetness," The pet names were just pouring from his mouth at this point. He didn't want just to call you sweetheart and doll. He wanted to call you these things while you called out for him, against him.

"I see that."

"Don't think I've ever seen this set before," he said lowly, looking around almost to see if anyone heard him.

You did though. It made you curious. How couldn't it? He noticed your bathing suit, or lack thereof, and noticed your body. He'd been watching you.

"S' new, got it when I grew out of my other one. Didn't cover what I needed to hide so," You trailed off, eyes closed yet still feeling his wide eyes on you, and your body that carried rolls and cellulite, stretch marks and prominent tummy. You almost got a little self conscious being under his gaze, but still you trusted that he had no desire to you for any reason. He was just your fathers friend checking up on his friend's daughter, innocent, simple.

"Can't imagine what the other one looked like if it didn't cover anything up," the tone in his voice sounded different. More, protective? Possessive? Maybe you were deluding yourself of what you were hearing, maybe he just wanted to be an asshole and tell you to cover up more.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You asked, blocking the sun from your eyes again to glance at Eddie. He's sitting facing you, his elbows on his knees with a drink in his hand.

"Nothing doll, I'll let you get back to your... whatever it is you're doing," He stood up and motioned with his hand, then left like nothing. Except it wasn't nothing. Except he had your full body engrained in his mind, replaying the mental screenshot he took, drinking you in as he walked towards the back of the yard, watching everyone including you. You went back to tanning, laying in the sun to earn a small change in your skin tone, something you don't do often because you never have the chance.

Eddie on the other hand did everything in his power to avoid his gaze from landing on you. He found himself growing a little obsessed with the way your body moved in that sad excuse of a bikini, how your breasts threatened to push themselves out of your top, how the curve of your ass kept the bikini bottom in place with every movement. He made a mental note of the way your stomach looked, how a bit of your lower tummy showed past the designated area of the small bottom, how pretty his hands would look squeezing and touching it while his head was sitting between your thighs. He thought you were gorgeous, there was no way a girl like you existed right under his nose. But Eddie never failed to keep his eyes on you, studying you, admiring you, wanting you.

As the party went on, it seemed like it got even more heated. By 7PM, the friends with kids were gone, and the friends who had nothing else to do were still drinking and dancing. You saw your mom in the crowd with your father, dancing as they pleased. You pretty much stayed by the pool all day, making it harder for Eddie to focus on the women trying to get him to talk. But you avoided Eddie's gaze even though you knew it stayed on you the entire day. It kind of bugged you honestly, you truly wondered why he'd be staring at you for so long if there was no attraction there.

"Yeah, uh, work's fine," He mumbled to the woman who looked about like she was in her late 30s, someone age appropriate. She wasn't ugly of course, he actually found her pretty cute, but he knew you were right there. The light of the sun going down dimming and shining golden on you made you look like you were godsend. Lying out with a knee raised and an arm thrown over your face, you felt tired and almost drained by the sun, but he kept watch.

"So-"

"Listen, you're really cute and I think if things were different, I'd be waaaaay more into this. It's not you, it's me?" He said, kind of shimmying away from this lady and on his way to get another beer.

While he dug in the coolers for a cold bottle, he sees a hand reach down and grab a Corona, one that he traced back to your body. His eyes raked over your body up close as he was trying to meet your eyes, and as he looked up at you from his crouched position, he let out a small, shy chuckle.

"Hey," He said as he pulled out a Bud Light, opening it swiftly with his shirt as he rose to his normal stature.

"Hiya," You stated. You were standing in your halter dress again, platforms hanging off two of your fingers with a beer in the other hand. It was a bit cooler at night, less humid, and your feet touched the bare grass as you stood.

"You're not a pool person huh? I know you have a pool at your place, don't use it much do you?" You asked, a little bit of a buzz coursing through your body after your third beer.

Eddie takes the beer from you, setting his down and opening yours before handing it back to you. He picks his up again and takes a swig while looking at you through the bottle.

"You watchin' me, aren't you?" He smiled, the rings on his fingers squeezing the neck of the bottle. All you could really think about was the way that hand would look squeezing all over your body, feeling the metal against you, how large his hands were compared to yours. You couldn't tell if it was the Texas heat making you hot or the thought of him fucking into you with his ringed hand squeezing your throat.

"Probably not as much as you were today, but, ya know. Just a little," The confidence raked through you more than usual and he noticed. But Eddie loved it. The coolers were a little more in a solitary area, many of the people still here are in the opposite direction, drunk and dancing. The two of you stood across from each other, cooler length apart. Eddie took his time gazing at you up close before he answered.

"Sorry for that, I, uh, I didn't think you'd notice." Eddie said shamefully, tapping his ring against the bottle as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"I actually didn't think you'd notice." You said, emphasizing a certain syllable.

He scrunched his eyebrows at you, tilting his head like a puppy,

"Notice what exactly?" He asked and you took a swig of your beer before answering.

"Me. You know, the fact that I'm not a kid anymore. But I think you did notice. You think I look ridiculous huh?" You laugh, shaking your head until he softly grabs your face, turning you to him. He wasn't laughing. Eddie 'the freak' Munson wasn't laughing at a self degrading joke, something he practically trademarked.

"Why would I think you look ridiculous?" He asked, searching your face for the answers if you decided to not reply.

"In this little bathing suit, when I'm like, two sizes too big to probably wear stuff like this," You said honestly, knowing it took you a bit to wear things like a two piece. You look down at yourself, seeing the top of your breasts and protruding stomach, all of the sudden feeling a little insecure to be around Eddie.

"At least that's what everyone says, but I don't really pay much attention to them. I like myself." You finished and looked up at him to be searching you like he was looking for something.

"You don't look ridiculous, princess," He took a breath and moved his hand to touch the crease of your waist briefly.

"You look, yeah I mean, you look real pretty like this. Grew into your own person. Nothin' more sexy than that," He earned a laugh from you, your hand touching him ever so slightly that he could feel a small jolt of electricity.

"So you think I'm sexy?" You remarked with a smile, eyeing him as he eyed you.

"You don't even wanna know, sweetheart." He said honestly. You really didn't, you really didn't want to know how much he wanted to fuck you in your pool so he could watch your tits bounce out of that top.

"Why not?" You asked, sipping again.

"Cus I'm an old man, my opinion doesn't matter. It's those younger men your age that matter." He said, trying to save himself from a situation he can't come back from.

"I guess so. You know, college guys are so... odd. Maybe just guys in general. Didn't realize how many chubby chasers there were until after the fact. But, I don't know, I haven't been focused on that really," you mentioned as you leaned against the brick wall to steady yourself. You took another drink out of your bottle, and he watched you.

"Why not, these guys not doing it for you or what?" He joked, pulling out a joint from his leather pocket and you smiled.

"They're just.. mmph, this is embarrassing but they're just not, skilled? I mean, can I be honest? Like you're a guy, older, and you know, I guess," You rambled, unsure how to phrase the question as he sparks up.

"Mm I love honesty, hit me," He pulled a long drag from the joint, inhaling and passing to you. Yes, he was getting high with a 25 year old, and he knew how it sounded. But this time was different, because he saw you as a woman and not just his friend's daughter.

"Well, okay. Well. Um. Fuck okay. The only way I'm able to cum or like, orgasm or whatever, is when I'm making myself do it. The guys I've fucked were kind of like— it didn't take longer than 15 minutes. Sometimes not even 10. I guess I'm tired of being like, their token fat girl to sleep with. Feels like I'll never know what enjoyable sex is like," You sort of mumbled the last part, taking the J and hitting it twice, passing it back to Eddie, only Eddie doesn't take it. He's kind of stuck actually.

Here you were, telling him you'd never been pleasured in the way you deserved because these new 'men' couldn't care less about you? That every sexual encounter you had was a mere loss, probably making you feel dirty and gross after.

"Eddie?" You asked and he shook out his thoughts, taking the joint and sitting on the cooler next to you as you stood on the other side of the cooler.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make it awkward or-" You started but he hummed.

"No, not at all. Just that—I mean really? They never made you cum?" His tone shifted, it was like he was becoming feral at the thought.

"I, no. Been living my life like this, yes I know. But. It's fine, kinda accepted I'll be the only one making myself cum." You noted, looking around to see if there was anyone and there wasn't. They were all towards the back of the yard, which was sort of hidden from this angle. You took back the joint from his hand, and once you put it between your lips, Eddie got up and basically pinned you against himself and the brick wall.

"I think, that maybe, just maybe all these guys you're fucking aren't what you need, doll." He breathed, his breath a mixture of weed and beer. He was too far gone to control himself, to not press against you, to not feel you. He needed you in that moment, and he needed to prove to you that you are not the token fat girl. That you are not a fetish, you are not a lifestyle choice. He needed to show you what it was like to feel pleasured, and to feel needed at the same time.

"You're right." You took a hit from the joint, blowing the smoke in his face looking to search his expression. He almost seemed angry, or bothered. It wasn't abnormal for him but, you couldn't tell if it was at you. This was your moment though, a moment of opportunity to really show him that you'd been chasing after him since you were 18. You pull the joint from your lips and place them between his.

"I think I need a man. Preferably someone in their forties, who smokes weed and listens to metal bands, maybe someone who even lived right next door to me." You mocked, suddenly getting a burst of confidence as his eyes go dark and he takes a drag from the joint, blowing it in another direction.

"How long have you needed this man, hm?" He asked keenly after putting the joint out on the wall behind you. His nose dipped down to the crease of where your neck and jaw meet, smelling you ever so slightly. His hands are placed on either side of you, his chest basically pressing against yours as you realize you're trapped in his grasp right now, with nothing but two pieces of fabric covering you up.

"A long time." You admitted and his lips go down, pressing into your collarbone as you sighed. Was this real? Was he really kissing the skin you dreamed of him kissing? Did he truly want you? You wished maybe it'd gone different, maybe you wouldn't have wanted him inside you at your mothers birthday party, but who are you to decide when things happen?

"Such a sweet girl. I've been, fighting myself this whole night. Been trying to avoid being near you before anyone noticed I was eye fucking you. You are the fucking definition of temptation. You fucking reek of sex. You're just," he paused and kissed more over the skin of your chest, stopping at the crook of your neck.

"You're so fucking beautiful too, so sexy, so fucking sexy. I wanna feel you baby, let me feel you, let me fill you." He whispered, his hands going from either side of you to your wide hips, squeezing softly as he caresses the skin behind your knitted dress.

"I'll be whatever you need me to be, princess, you ask and you will receive." He kept his hands steady on your waist, regardless of how much he wanted to feel all of you in his hands right fucking now against this wall. At this point, he moved his hands to rub the sides of your body, tracing every curve with his hands.

"I need, fuck Eddie I need you. I always have. Please," you nearly begged, the weed in your system making it easier to drown out your surroundings while his hand snaked down to the front of your bikini.

"Yeah? You'd let me take you right here against this wall? Keep you quiet with these little bottoms you got on," He growls, dipping down into your bikini to rub your mound as he goes lower and lower. Your mouth fixed into an 'O', moaning and humming as his fingers danced around your cunt.

"Didn't know my baby was so soft, or how much you craved me. Let me make you feel good princess, let me ruin you and show you just how good it can be." You couldn't speak, all you could do was whine and nod.

"Aw baby, that was cute. With words sweetheart, need to hear ya with words," He taunts, his finger teasing over your wet slit. His nose is pressed up against your neck, his tongue sliding over the skin below your ear as he uses his other hand to grab your ass.

"Please, Eds, I need you. Show me, show me everything please," you begged, your back sliding down the brick a bit before he stops you, holding you in place with his other hand.

"You want it right here, pretty girl? Right where anyone could see? Want me to finger fuck you in your own backyard?" He growled almost, sending a wave of pleasure through you when he finally rubs two digits all over your wet pussy.

"Yes, god yes I don't give a fuck, I need you inside me," You cried, your arms going up around his neck to steady yourself once you feel his fingers spread your lips and rub around your labia and your clit. You knew he knew what he was doing, he'd done this before and knew the way to drive women crazy. What you didn't know was that you were equally driving each other crazy. Your subconscious whines and pleads, the way you were almost grinding against his hand, you tugging and pulling his body closer as you feel the small butterfly feeling in your tummy. Everything you were doing was perfect, you were absolute perfection to him. He didn't know he craved you this bad until you were moaning his name, asking—no, begging him for more.

"Mm, my baby needs me stretching this hole out huh? Let's see how you take my fingers, baby, then we'll see if you'll let me fit inside this pretty pussy," He said moving his head from your neck to see his fingers working your clit in your bottoms. He moved his head again to look at you and the expression on your face, and he knew it was a mistake because he could've blown his load right there. Eddie hadn't even started finger fucking you yet you were already soaked, face red and hot, hair disheveled and your mouth agape. You honestly put him in a trance, he'd do absolutely anything for you.

Eddie teased a bit more until your eyes started to turn glossy, your breaths were getting heavier and the minute you inhaled again, he sunk his two digits into your hole and watched with an open mouthed smile as you threw your head back against the brick and squirmed.

"Ahhh, there she is. Look at you," He said proudly, beginning to slowly move his fingers in and out of you, giving you time to adjust. Eddie knows you're not a virgin, but it sure fucking feels like it.

"Such a big girl, doing so good for me taking my fingers like this. You look so pretty like this yaknow'? Can't believe nobody's made you cum the way you deserve, and that it's gonna be me showing you how enjoyable sex can truly be," He was so genuine, you could tell.

"Eddie, fuck, please please fuck me, I need your dick," You begged softly and he bit his lip, groaning with you.

You felt his hardened cock straining against his pants as he pulled himself closer to you, adding an edge to your pleasure because you got nervous. Your daddy's friend is standing pressed against you in hardly nothing with his fingers stretching you out, your wetness dripping down Eddie's hand the faster and deeper he goes.

"Yeah? You need my dick, baby? Gonna be a good girl for me and make a mess all over my dick?" He asked, moving his other hand to grope your chest. He got a little fed up with the knitted dress you wore and pulled it to the side to free your breast, snatching the bikini top to the side to let your tit fall out gracefully. He was fucking in love. The way your body jerked against his hand made your body move with it, jiggling and moving in a way he only imagined it would look when he fucks into you from below.

"Please, Eddie, I wan' it, you're gonna make me, ugh fuck, can I please cum?" You begged, your eyes meeting his. He was just watching you, listening to your moans being muffled by the music that seems to never stop playing. Until he dipped his head down and started to suck on the skin of your tit, fixing his lips and tongue to wrap around your hardened nipple. He tugged, bit, sucked all on your tit until he formed purple bruises on it. He didn't have the words to describe the feeling he had right now, he felt like he died and went to heaven watching you squirm and hearing your voice beg for him. Eddie had never felt this urge and eagerness to slip inside someone as bad as he wanted to right now, to sit you down on his lap and fuck into you like that, or to press you against this wall and take you from behind. He never had the desire to truly fuck someone the way he wanted to, never knew what buttons to push for someone to want him the way he wanted others. But you, you wanted him in a way that was sinful to anyone who heard or witnessed it.

You needed him to ruin you, to fill you up with his cum, to make you his.

"Fuck, my pretty girl wants to give me her cum? That it? You can do whatever you want baby, cum all on my fuckin' fingers right fucking now," He snarled as he took his mouth from your tit, to your ear, almost grinding his own hard on against the crevice of your hip. You felt him take his thumb and rub on your clit, leaving your holes empty until you started clenching on air.

"Eddie! Are you still here?" You both heard a voice from up top, your father on the balcony looking over to scan the yard. You looked up and saw him basically right on top of you, and you looked to Eddie with wide eyes as his fingers still worked on your clit.

"Don't let daddy hear you baby, cum on my fingers for me, be a good girl for me. Show me how much you want me to fuck you into my bed," He picked the pace up and held you tight as he noticed you were starting to come undone.

"Eddiee, fuck Eddie I'm-" You were kind of loud, so he pressed his lips against yours when he slid his fingers back in, feel you tighten around him as you gripped his waist, kissing him back but moaning into his mouth once you felt yourself let go.

But he didn't stop kissing you. He kept his lips on yours, almost locked in a trance as he pulled his fingers out of you. That's when he pulled away, but only to take his fingers in his mouth and lick up any of your juices that leaked onto him. You just watched, breathless, barely holding yourself up as he released his fingers with a pop. He fixed your bikini and dress for you, moving to fix your bottoms as well so that you weren't exposed for anyone else.

Eddie felt like he was in love the minute he tasted you on his tongue. He knew he couldn't just stop there, he couldn't just finger you and that's it. He needed all of you, and he needed you in every way he could have you. You held onto his waist and his hands snaked onto your waist, looking down at your flushed chubby face, looking for something.

"I, thank you. That was, um, really good," You shyed away from him saying that. Complimenting him on his ability to make you cum felt embarrassing, but he turned your head by your chin to face him, and he placed soft kisses by your lips and in your cheeks.

You couldn't believe Eddie Munson, just made you cum on his fingers. You didn't believe yourself really, it almost felt like you blacked out and when you woke up he was there. But you were awake, present and very much aware of his mouth and fingers and his cock straining to be released.

"Ya know, I think the next time I taste you I want it to be with you riding my face," He smiled, moving your hair back behind your ear.

"You were just so fucking sweet," he kissed your cheek and pulled away from you, causing a blush to rise on your cheeks and chest again.

"Wha-" You questioned but your father yelled out again.

"Eddie?" Eddie looked up and had an angry look on his face, kissing you one last time before releasing you and leaving. But he turns towards you, wanting to say something, anything. He just wanted to see you again, from afar this time. You look so exhausted, your back still against the brick wall, your legs pressed together, your hands in your hair. You looked fucking amazing and if it wasn't for your dad, he'd be face deep in your cunt right against that wall.

"I'll see you, sweetheart."

[dejwritesarchived]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀─── ⠀ ⠀⠀ wet dreams⠀ 〳 ⠀ t.yuushi ‵

❪ ♡ ❫ ─── ( synopsis ) could you imagine having a wet dream about your hot neighbor?

♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — reader discretion is advised: female reader, female anatomy described, her/she pronouns, written with black reader in mind, pet names (good girl), oral fixation, oral (f.receiving), dirty talk, biting kink, backshots/doggystyle position, spanking, anal play (i mean he put a thumb in it that's it), marking kink, profanity, i think we should write smut about men in explicit mangas some more, mentions of a wet dream, wet dream is in italics, slight pervert!reader, this been in my drafts since august lol, i colored the header lol, @eiflawriting gave me the idea so i ran with it, minors dni pls !

YOU COULDN’T HELP BUT STARE AT HIM WHEN YOU SAW HIM. You remembered how your eyes lit up with curiosity seeing him move into the apartment next to yours. An apartment with many tenants who moved in and soon quickly moved out. A rumor traveled around that a ghost resided in that apartment, but you never cared to gossip about said rumor. You just went to work and came home. It was a sad cycle that you’ve done Monday through Friday. Occasionally when you would be leaving for work, you'd see him. The bags under his eyes are as heavy as he’s taking his trash out to put into the apartment’s trash bin. His whole demeanor oozed sex appeal even though he would be the type of man your parents would usher you to stay away from. 

He was a handsome man, and when you laid down to sleep, you only seethed in jealousy, hearing faint moans through the thin walls. A regular neighbor would march over and bang on the door to tell their neighbor to keep it down—but with you, it felt like your body was stuck. You stared at the ceiling indulging in the sound of the way he pleasured this woman. That jealous pit twists in your stomach, realizing that you have most likely been crushing on a taken man this whole time. But it didn’t make sense, you hadn’t seen a woman enter or exit his place when you were around. Either or, you still thought that it should have been you to have the privilege of cooing out his name the way this woman was. 

You could do better. You know you can. 

You may have been in a significant drought, but you were positive your plush lips could kiss him better. Your mouth could wrap around his cock better. You could move your hips while riding him better. But then again, this woman had to have something you didn’t if he was making her feel like this every night. 

You took your pillow over your head to scream into it. The heated feeling between your thighs caused you to roll over on your side to force yourself to sleep. You were only torturing yourself by continuing to be a pervert and listening to him pleasure another woman. Before you could utter a string of complaints to yourself, your body finally relaxed for you to fall into a deep slumber—a poor attempt at ignoring the walls through the paper-thin walls. 

Your body stirred in your sleep as you felt something under the thin lilac-colored duvet that covered your body. You felt something wet upon your thighs as if somebody was nibbling on the flesh on the inside area of your thighs. You attempted to squirm tiredly, but the grip upon you grew tighter. With your hand rubbing the sleep out of your eye, you lifted the duvet, and your eyes nearly bulged out your head seeing him. His eyes filled with so much hunger it sent a chill down your spine. With the oversized t-shirt you usually sleep in pushed up to your waist, you watched as the flat of his tongue glided upward and downward on the clothed part of where your pussy lips were. Even though your underwear was blocking the pleasure feeling of his tongue—you still felt yourself grow wet at the feeling. 

Your next-door neighbor Totsumoto Yuushi didn’t waste any time dragging your fusion-colored panties down your smooth legs to get a taste of you. The flat of his tongue dragged across your puffy pussy lips just to finally relinquish in the taste of you. His darkened eyes met with yours through the little light that shimmered through the window from the moon. You relaxed in his touch as soon as you felt the first flicker on your clit. Your breathing hitches in your throat before you cough up moans and your fingers tangle into his black hair. Before your eyes lolly in the back of your head, the last glimpse you got was of Totsumoto’s eyes shifting close as he finally wanted to focus on his main task. 

Totsumoto’s tongue glides around the entrance of your drooling cunt, and he even could feel you clench, feeling him teasing you. Your thighs were seizing close due to the intense feeling of him between your thighs, but he just pinned them back open. You even heard him moan as he continued to eat his meal. He didn’t leave a drop of slick for him not to savor. The blood rushing to his cock with each kitten lick he’s making on your pussy or each flicker and suck on your sensitive bud. Your juices stained his face, but he could care less when it was a mouthwatering meal right before him. 

Your body arched off the mattress as you failed to run away from your pending orgasm. Your stomach began to form the most satisfying knots for Totsumoto to untie, but he pulled it away. He shortly let his lips drag kisses and bites on the inside of your thighs. He removed himself away from your pussy with a satisfying pop. 

“I want you to cum on this dick, Y/N.” His voice rasps. “I know you want the same thing, right?” Totsumoto tilts his head to the side slightly as if he’s letting his head rest on your bite marks-covered thigh, and his eyes never stop looking at you. 

Totsumoto’s words hit you like a truck with each continued kiss and bite. Your brain felt like complete mush as you realized he snatched your orgasm away from you in the blink of an eye. With his cock on hard, he kisses up your body until his face is just inches away from yours. Him being on top of you but also sure not to squash you. You could feel his cock on the inside of your thigh. Just by how it felt—you could tell it was fat. You’ve had your perverted thoughts during a hot morning imagining how his cock looked. Was it long? Was it girthy? Was he circumcised? How pretty was the tip? You’ve asked yourself that constantly. 

He’ll inch closer to your lips. Through your stare of desperation for him, you watched him lick his lips—savoring in the aftertaste of your pussy before he spoke once more, “How’d you want it? Since you’ve been a good girl while I was between your thighs….” 

Teasingly, he’s letting his teeth nibble on your plump lower lip instead of giving you the satisfaction of a heated kiss. 

“I’ll let you choose.” He adds. 

And that’s how you whine up on all fours with a perfect arch and your cunt eager to swallow Totsumoto’s cock. You figured that if you were to do missionary, you’d become cock drunk for the gentleman immediately. His callous hands grabbed at your waist, dragging you closer to him; you could feel the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance. “Just relax, pretty, sure you fit around me perfectly,” Totsumoto assured.

He’s collecting saliva in his hand to coat his girthy cock with, even though he could see how wet you were for him through his dark locs that fell in his face. His hand gripped your waist, similar to how a person would with some bike handles. He completely braced himself for the waterfall he was about to experience. First, he’s shoving his tip in—slowly, just so you can get used to it, savor it. A wonderful feeling he could get used to. Second, he’s gradually shoving move of his cock inside you. This time he’s taking note of how your manicured fingers grasped at the sheets. 

“I thought you could take my cock, hm?” He’ll teasingly ask. 

You couldn’t even answer his question before he’s immediately plowing forward. No regard for getting used to his size when the wet cunt in between your thighs was enthusiastic for more. You’ll moan out his name like a song you knew from heart. The lewd sound of heated skin slapping against each other adding on to your tune of moans. It created a sweet melody that Totsumoto enjoyed hearing. It motivated him to fuck just a little better, a little harder. 

Your pillow was beginning to stain with your salty tears with each ram of his hips. You only had the opportunity to let out broken moans that bounced upon the thin walls of your bedroom. Your hand went back behind you to slow down his abrupt thrusting, but that only led to him swatting your hand away as if it were a fruit fly flying around a garbage can. At this point, you had lost count of how many times the two of you had cum. The sticky mess that imprinted your thighs didn’t stop Totsumoto from continuing what he was doing. The white ring that decorated his cock only turned him on even more. His eyes lazily droop to gaze at your pussy, swallowing his cock. It was an intoxicating feeling how you were clutching around him. Which each pull back on his cock—he could feel you tremble. Hurriedly, wanting to run away from his jabs but ever so eager for him to fill you up some more. 

“You were waiting to feel my cock weren’t you?” He growled lowly. He noticed you didn’t answer his question, only purring out desperate moans. The dark-haired male took that as a challenge. His large hands that once were on your plush love handles would press down your back, ensuring that you wouldn’t break the perfect arch. 

Totsumoto’s fingertips trace alongside the flesh of your ass. His hand slaps at it, and his actions' ripple effect causes his cock to twitch inside you. His body felt like he was running a fever so hot that he could most likely faint. His jet-black strands of hair were sticking to his sweat-coated forward, but even if his hair drooped low in front of his intoxicating deadpan eyes—he still couldn’t take them away from the mess between the two of your bodies. His strokes were beginning to grow sloppy as his body finally overheated due to his lewd actions. 

You knew that the older gentleman was so close to cumming. His grip on your waist tightens, completely entrapping you from running away from his brash thrusting. It took you by shock feeling his thumb insert instantly into your asshole. Your body tensed up, and he leaned down to place the sloppiest set of kisses on your back. “It’s just a thumb unless you want it to be something else.” He hungrily said. 

His words sent a frightening yet exhilarating chill down your spine. Your fingers grasped the crumpled sheets on your mattress as you met his thrusting halfway until the both of you were a cumming mess. You’ve had your fair share of sleeping with men. From horrible hookups to the best lovemaking, no one ever made you feel like this when you were orgasming. You felt like you were on the highest cloud attempting to climb down all by yourself. Your limbs quivered with each sloppy cum coated slam upon your ass, and your moans became so frantic that someone would have thought you were speaking in tongue. The messy mess that imprinted the two of your skin wasn’t as bad as the mess when his cock hesitantly removed itself from you. Totsumoto’s thick cum dripped out of your cunt as he let your body collapse on the mattress below you like a personal used fleshlight. You could hear his breathing returning to normal as he let his fingertips drag alongside your sweat-coated body parts. 

“Sleep tight. You’re going to need it for when I return.” His words came out like a whisper.

When his fingertips left your body, you felt cold without his touch. You were utterly addicted to his touch, and you needed more. However, your shaken limbs and depleted body said otherwise.

Exhaustion overcame your body as the only thing that could be heard in the room was the sound of you trying to control your breathing. Your eyes became droopy, and you realized that he just gave you the best dick you could imagine, that you instantly fell into a deep slumber.

The annoying sound of your alarm caused your eyes to open instantly. Your phone was practically yelling at you to get up to start your day. When you pressed the snooze button on your phone, you glanced at the time. You still have a couple more minutes—perhaps you can attempt to fall asleep to continue the dream. Your panties already were damp, and your nipples hardened in anticipation due to it, but no matter how comfortable you got or how tightly squeezed shut your eyes were—you couldn’t fall back into that deep slumber. There you were, staring at the ceiling, thinking about him, and once again, the horrible feeling of him not being able to pleasure you outside of your perverted wet dreams swirled around in your mind. 

A knock could be heard from your front door, causing your thoughts to disappear— just like the dream you had last night. You climbed out of bed to answer the door, mumbling coherent words about who could be visiting you so early. It was most likely another salesman that wanted to sell something. You opened your front door, and all the annoyance in your body disappeared. There, your neighbor Totsumoto Yuushi stood at your door holding a box. 

Your words were stuck in your throat as your fingers toyed with the ends of the oversized t-shirt you wore to bed. Totsumoto’s eyes traveled down your body, staring at your boobs, and he took a mental note of how your nipples poked through the thin fabric of the t-shirt you were wearing. He cleared his throat to clear out the tension in the air. 

“The delivery guy put this outside my door, and it belongs to you.” Totsumoto’s deep voice croaked out. 

“Thank you.” Your arms extended for him to drop the package in your arms.

Instead, he wiggled past the small gap between you and your cracked door and directly placed your package in your house. He walked out of your apartment and glanced down at you. The scent of him went by you, and you could feel your knees weaken. 

“I’m going to get going now. If you need anything, just knock on my door.” His lips form a sly smile before he walks down to his apartment. 

You closed the door when he was no longer in your eyesight. Your back pressed upon the door as you slowly slid down it—if only he could get you the one thing you wanted the most. 

And that was for your wet dream to come true vividly. 

TAGS — @eiflawriting @maydayaisha @rczc @woahhajime @sailewhoremoon @hellavile @si00p @exquisitenesss @plopifuee @prettyboyyuji @midoryiar @animepickle7 @1reversecowgirl @sunnytalia3 @sukunasfootrest @touyyes @atesumu @ladybugisland @chaiyuuuu @sleepy3

[magneto-was-fucking-right]

The Ghost Next Door - Chapter 6

Prompt: After suffering an almost lethal injury in combat, Simon "Ghost" Riley expected a dull, and uneventful leave back at his shitty apartment. His new next-door neighbor ruins his plans. Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader (named Riley Thomas for plot purposes)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 7

Disclaimer: slow burn; neighbor!Simon; semi-sexual content

Chapter Summary: In which Simon's neighbor gets drunk with his best friend and ends up, once again, on his couch.

Word Count: 3.1K

On a cold, rainy Friday night, Riley Thomas knocked on her neighbor’s door in sweatpants and a hoodie, a large pizza box from the restaurant down the street in hand. When Simon finally reached the door, the young woman slid inside quickly, sighing in relief at the comforting heat of his apartment.

“Why’d you take so long? The hallway is freezing!” She complained as a way of greeting, setting down the carton box on his table before rubbing her hands together.

“I took two minutes, you big baby.”

She rolled her eyes playfully.

“What’d you pick for tonight?” Riley asked curiously, peeking at his TV as she settled on the couch and quickly covered herself with their designated movie blanket.

“Mamma Mia.” 

“Fuck off.” She stared at him in disbelief, a mocking grin slowly creeping about her cheeks.  “Guilty pleasure?”

“One of many.”

She shook her head in amusement “You’re a man full of surprises, Simon.”

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” He chuckled.

A slow, tentative friendship had begun blooming between them over the weeks, as Riley found herself in her broody neighbor's company more often than not. Simon’s icy walls had started to crumble increasingly easier at the young woman’s terrible jokes, finding comfort in her amiable invitations for a movie night, a dog walk, or something as simple as a quiet talk while each of them did their laundry in the building’s basement.

Tonight was different for Riley, as it had been Simon’s idea for them to share the evening together, excitement bubbling in her stomach at their new found companionship. She spent her work days longing for their moments together, when she would come home to find he had prepared dinner and “accidentally” made enough to share, dropping by as soon as he heard her turn the key on her door. She noticed the recurrent acts of service with a soft, yearning heart when he took out his trash and offered to take hers as well, maintaining a neutral expression and shrugging awkwardly when she beamed at him and thanked him endlessly. 

A few days before, when she had invited him over for a hot cup of tea and cake, Simon had ended up washing the dishes, despite her constant protests, appearing nonchalant as he claimed he was just checking for leaks in the fickle plumbing.

Despite growing closer, the pair still maintained a set of respectful boundaries that assured their mutual trust: as Simon filled each of them a glass of wine, placing them on the coffee table along with the pizza, Riley knew she shouldn’t look as he removed his usual black facemask to eat, keeping her eyes on the screen as she made occasional remarks about the movie.

“I can’t believe you like this.” She laughed as the dramatic musical unfolded, cheesy and cheerful songs filling the dimly lit flat. “Big old broody man enjoying Abba songs in a rom com.” 

“It’s entertainin’.” He grunted as he grabbed another slice of pizza, trying to ignore how close they sat to each other under the blanket, her feet up and near his muscled thigh. Simon’s phone buzzed and he quickly grabbed it with his clean hand, reading the notification and stifling an affectionate smile.

He could almost feel how hard she tried not to stare, as well as ask about it, as she took another long sip of wine.

“Still interested in findin’ the pup an owner?” His deep voice made her snap her head at him on instinct, quickly looking away as she realized his face was still bare.

“Sorry.” She felt her cheeks heat, but Simon merely shrugged, eyes glinting as he put the mask back on. “Yes, I really can’t keep him trapped in such a small flat, let alone keep listening to Mrs. Parsons complain about the noise.”

“The old hag still botherin’ ya?”

“Every single day.” Riley sighed in defeat, running a nervous hand over her messy braid.

“My friend’s coming back from deployment in a few days. Might come visit and stay over to meet the dog, see how they get along.”

Riley felt her insides boil with something hot she tried hard to conceal. It wasn’t pleasant, and she felt ridiculous as she asked:

“Do you think she’ll be interested?” Her tone was almost casual enough that Simon didn’t pick up on her small trap. Almost. 

“I think he is very interested.” He made sure to drag out the pronoun and noticed her flustered expression, even as she kept her eyes on the screen. “He’s always wanted one.”

The young woman nodded silently and hummed to the music as she took another bite of her slice.

“Why’d you take on rescues anyway?” He asked, killing the awkward silence between them.

“They were gonna be put down! I couldn’t just let them die! Can you imagine being sentenced to death just because of undesirable traits or features?”

“I can. It was called the Holocaust, love.”

“Simon!” She scoffed, smacking him on the arm. 

He pretended it hurt, and she pretended he wasn’t funny.

***

Johnny MacTavish was a burly, five foot ten, crackling ball of energy that put any other force of nature to shame. With bright blue eyes, a questionable hairstyle and a barely understandable accent, the Scot appeared unaware of the existence of the very concept of shyness or social anxiety.

When Riley Thomas had opened her door on the next lazy Friday evening, in nothing but leggings and an oversized sweater, she found herself in the man’s bone crushing hug before she could even utter a simple “hello”.

“Christ…” She gasped, unable to process why, exactly, the stranger was so excited to see her, until she peeked over his shoulder and saw Simon leaning against the hallway, arms crossed as he rolled his eyes at the scene.

"There ya are lass" he cheerily put her down, and the young woman discreetly gasped for breath, laughing nervously at the unexpected display of affection. "I'm Johnny. I heard so much about ya."

"Did you?" She scowled at Simon "Unfortunately I can't say the same."

Simon's facemask covered his smirk.

"Aye, do not worry lass, I know Ghost can be an old grump"

Simon grunted in response and Riley quirked an eyebrow.

"Ghost?" She turned to Simon inquisitively, but he gave no signs of willingness to indulge her curiosity.

"Aye, it's his call sign becau-"

"Johnny" Simon warned firmly, and the Scot toned down a notch, nodding.

"Right...anyway lass, I thought we ought to invite ya to the pub with us tonight." His smile was so endearing she couldn't possibly refuse, despite looking down at her own clothes with a frown.

"I'm sorry, I had no idea you were coming today." She shrugged anxiously "I'd have to go get ready an-"

"That's alright! Wouldn’t want to steal yer night with him. We'll wait, won't we Simon?" He nudged the man with an elbow, his frame so much larger than Johnny's that it was almost comical.

Simon was silent for a moment, seemingly weighing the outcomes of what he was getting himself into, before looking her in the eyes and nodding once in approval.

“We wait.”

And that was how two hours later, the trio had ended up bumping shoulders at a packed bar in downtown Manchester, the two men always by her side. Riley glanced over her shoulder, amused by the view: it was like walking with a very intimidating Dobermann, alongside an overly excited and friendly golden retriever. Opposites in every possible way.

 Simon wore his casual black face mask and hoodie, along with denim jeans, his blonde locks handsomely swept back, the only indication he had made an effort to look better than usual, other than the smell of his expensive cologne that Riley kept discreetly trying to get whiffs of. The young woman had opted for a pair of her best jeans, the ones that didn’t yet look too washed up and hugged her curves just right, along with a warm, modest top that didn’t reveal too much cleavage, covered by a faux leather jacket.

Simon quirked an eyebrow at her gaze, silently challenging her to say something, to which she giggled, flushing slightly as his hand lightly nudged her lower back to steer her into the right direction. The three of them ended up sitting on a corner booth, after venturing to the counter to fetch their drinks: for Simon, a bourbon, for Riley, a gin, and for Johnny, a massive pint of beer that would make him carry his weight in piss in half an hour.

“I gotta say, you’re a bonnie lass.” Johnny was slurring out by the time the fifth pint was half way gone. By then, Riley was feeling tipsy from her own alcohol, her cheeks flushed as she giggled at Johnny’s predicament.

“I’m gonna pretend I understood what you just said.” She lazily twirled the straw on her third drink, playing with the ice at the bottom of the glass.

Simon rolled his eyes, the bourbon barely warming up his blood,  but there was a glint of affection in his eyes as he countered “Easy, McTavish.”

“Don’t lose yer wits, Simon, just trynna’ help you remember how to treat a lass.” He leaned forward, confiding in Riley “Did ya know he hasn’t gotten laid in-”

“Sergeant.” A low growl in warning as Riley pressed him on, curiously.

“Go on! Now I wanna know!”

“No ya don’t.” She could almost swear she saw him blush under that mask.

“I can’t count the months on me fingers, I’ll tell you that.” Johnny lifted his hands playfully, and Simon glared at him, a silent threat ever present as his dark eyes squinted at him.

Riley roared with laughter, her dimples more noticeable than ever.

“Months? Those are rookie numbers. I haven’t gotten laid in four years.” She drunkenly blurted out, and Simon stiffened by her side, as Johnny choked on his drink. 

“What? How’s that possible?” The Scot coughed as the young woman shrugged, amused by his reaction.

“I don’t go out much.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t like people much.” She avoided his gaze shyly, downing the rest of her gin “Plus, I work a lot.”

“Ya’ two are a match made in heaven.” He pointed out, ignoring Simon’s scowl and her playful eye roll.

“Cheer up Simon Riley, yer best friend is back and ya have a lovely lady by your side.” The Scot taunted before downing the rest of his pint.

Riley Thomas halted, looking up at the broody man sitting by her side, eyes glassy and sleepy as her drunken mind tried to comprehend what she had just heard.

“Wait…Simon Riley? Your last name is Riley?” Simon sighed deeply before looking her over, grunting in agreement.

The young woman chuckled to herself, leaning her head playfully against his muscled arm.

“Why didn’t you tell me? That’s hilarious!” Simon stifled an amused smile as he pretended to dodge from her touch. “Do you realize…” She poked his chest with her pointer finger “Do you realize that if we ever got married I’d be called Riley Riley?”

“That’s exactly why.” Simon retorted, rolling his eyes for the millionth time since the beginning of the day, but he felt himself buzzing at her words, at the fact she had considered, even if just for a moment, even if just playfully…

 For a moment, he found himself lost in her inebriated gaze. The droopy eyelids, the soft smile dotted by those damn dimples. The chipped tooth that always caught his attention, and the way she was leaning against his arm made something warm bubble in his stomach. She looked up at him so innocently, so curiously, that for a split second he almost forgot his best friend was right across the table.

“Get a room!” He taunted, almost breaking Simon’s usual stoic expression. “Save tha’ for later. Now we need shots!” 

“You’re a sip away from death, mate. I’d call it a night.” 

“But I haven’ even told her the Al Mazrah story!”

“And it’ll stay that way if ya want to live.” Simon threatened, and Riley perked up once again, eyes glimmering with humor.

“Tell me right now!”

“Imagine this, lass: scorching heat of the Middle East…”

“Soap.”

 “A food poisoned Simon on a sniper recon mission, no toilets in sight-”

“I’ll smack ya so hard I’ll turn that mohawk into a fade.” 

The young woman had tears rolling down her cheeks as she roared with laughter, picturing the situation so clearly she was out of breath.

“Away n’bile yer heid!” Johnny retorted at Simon’s threat.

“English, Mctavish.”

“Sorry L.T. Let me translate… “Go fuck yourself.”

“Much better.”

***

It must have been four in the morning when Riley Thomas felt herself being carefully placed on a familiar couch, strong arms under her back and legs. She felt so dizzy she knew it would be over if she so much as lifted her head, opting to remain still as Simon’s comforting scent temporarily disappeared. She could hear him guide a stumbling, barely conscious Johnny into his bed, not trusting the intoxicated man to sleep properly on his couch. 

When he finally returned, seemingly the only semi-sober one of the bunch, he once again reached down to carry her to her own flat in his arms, halting once he saw her open her sleepy eyes. Simon felt himself stiffen as she wrapped her arms around his neck clumsily, inhaling his neck deeply.

“You smell so good, Simon.” She slurred out, tone soft in his quiet, barely lit living room. He couldn’t move, unsure of how to react to the sudden affectionate touch, hands holding his weight on the couch.

“You need to sleep, love.” He muttered gently through his face mask, giving her shoulder blades a quick rub through her jacket and hoping she would free him from the awkward position.

“I’m fine.” She nuzzled further into the curve of his neck and he shivered, feeling the smell of her own perfume, mixed with alcohol and sweat.

“Riley…”

“Simon.” She let go of his neck, but forced him to sit down next to her, barely making out his face through the dim lighting and her blurred vision. “I…”

“Shhh. You’re sloshed.”

“I know, but I’m okay, I promise.”

“Let me get ya to your bed, yeah? Where are your keys?”

She had never heard him speak so softly, in such a caring, gentle way. Her heart was beating furiously, as deep, joyful warmth spread through her stomach when she looked at him. At his half covered face, dark eyes framed by blonde lashes that she found so endearing.

She silently moved closer, reaching over his lap and turning off the only source of light from a small table lamp. She heard him release a shuddering breath, his large hands gripping the couch for dear life. Riley placed a cautious hand on his shoulder in the dark, to guide herself into slowly straddling his muscled thighs, careful enough to sit closer to his knees, instead of his groin.

Simon Riley’s heart thudded so hard against his chest he was surprised she couldn’t hear it, his body frozen into place, nervously awaiting her next move.

Riley’s trembling hands reached up ever so slowly, fingertips trailing a curious path over his soft blonde locks, down to the crease on his forehead, the perfect arch of his eyebrows, all the way to his strong nose, where her finger locked in the black mask. Unmoving and barely visible, she was unsure of his reaction, as she slowly began pulling it down.

“Do you mind?” She whispered, so close their breaths mingled. 

“Hm.” Was all he could mutter, but one of his hands gently gripped her hip, steadying her in his lap. His thumb circled the small patch of exposed skin on her waist, where the top almost met the jeans.

She continued her ministrations leisurely, giving him enough time to stop her if he wished. But he didn’t, and her finger pulled his mask all the way down to under his chin, where she felt the stubble. Riley could barely breathe, doing her best to contain her excitement as her cold fingers trailed his face in the dark.

She felt the contour of his lips, slightly chapped as her thumb parted them tentatively. The raise of a scar, that seemed to have been carved all the way to the jaw, where she rubbed slow, careful circles lovingly. She felt his trembling breath on her flushed skin, the sounds of her faux leather jacket as she moved about, the only noise in the room. 

Riley placed a tender kiss on his cheek, feeling embarrassed as she felt the warmth that immediately soaked her underwear once her skin came in contact with his. The mixture of alcohol and desire in her blood seemed to burn, making her ache with longing as she kissed his nose, his forehead, and then his other cheek, until she was trailing his strong jaw, the stubble tickling her lips.

“Riley…” He muttered, their mouths so close she could almost drink in his words.

“Please.” She begged in a silent whisper, joining her forehead to his, hands cupping his face tenderly. 

His other hand held an iron grip on the couch, not letting up.

“You’re drunk.” He whispered back, teetering on the edge of self-control.

“I need you.” She replied, her lips ghosting his in the dark, skin almost grazing. She began moving her hips lower towards his groin, but although Simon had held his breath at the confession, his heart hammering in his chest, he finally gripped both of her hips firmly, keeping her away from the raging boner she would have found.

“I can’t, love.” He murmured softly, hoping she would understand.

“Please Simon.” She clumsily tried to fight off his grip, eager to press her aching body to his. “I need you so bad.”

Simon bit his lip so hard he was surprised he wasn’t bleeding as he did his best to keep his fraying sanity through her tender pleas.

He knew he was done for if he felt the softness of her lips, her wet tongue and the grind of her hips against his rock-hard shaft.

“Don’t do this to me, love.”

“I’m so wet.” She admitted, and he felt the crease of her frustrated frown against his own, words coated with need and shame. He sighed deeply, his bruising grip on her hips tempting him to just pull her into him. He could feel himself pulse in his briefs, so painfully hard.

“Four years is a long time.” He grunted softly.

“I know.” She practically whimpered.

“You’re very drunk, love. You can barely stand upright.”

“But-”

“Riley.” She stilled at his commanding tone. “I’m taking you to bed. We’ll talk tomorrow once you’ve rested up, yeah?”

Her shoulders slouched in defeat, the rejection still stinging as she placed another kiss to his cheek before muttering:

“Okay.” 

A/N: I'm back! And I managed to bring my work laptop home, which (hopefully) means quicker updates! :) Once again thank you to everyone reading and keep that feedback coming - seriously, it keeps me going. The slow burn is finally burning and the next chapters are gonna be spicy.

TAG LIST (I hope I haven't forgotten anyone)

@xaestheticalien @bossva @missmae3004 @yyiikes @lillysfrogsandbogs @missmae3004 @spicyspicyliving @shuttlelauncher81 @generaldestinychild @semendreaminsblog @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @iloveghost900

[discordsmuse]

Ill throw a writing idea at you.

Haarlep shows up at camp to pester everyone. (He's hungry and bored)

(Chaos ensues)

TY for requesting the silliest incubus, I love Haarlep! Also this isn't beta read lol, just slammed it out in an afternoon. I use they/them for Haarlep, and TW includes: Dubious consent, aphrodisiacs, semi-intoxicated fem!Tav, tummy bulge :) , semi-public fucking only because a tent isn't soundproof.

NSFW under the cut :)

“Oh, absolutely not.” Tav's arms came to rest on her hips, mouth twisted into a scowl. When returning from eradicating more of Orin’s cultists, she hadn’t expected to come face to face with her doppleganger once more.

Since her pact with Raphael, she'd been seeing much more of the fiend in and about her camp. Other than the occasional dinner at his House, however, his incubus left her well enough alone. This was a new low for Haarlep.

“Tav?” Wyll looked startled, looking between the woman crowded on his lap and the one standing at the entrance to his tent. The copy of the party’s leader was pouting, batting its eyelashes at the poor man. “What's-”

“Always spoiling all my fun,” the not-Tav crawled off Wyll and in a curtain of shimmering light returned to their usual form. Elegant horns curled from their forehead, a tail whipping behind them. As the leathery red wings unfurled from their back, Haarlep arched their back in a stretch. “Couldn't you have waited a moment, mouse?”

“And give you time to collect another face to parade around? I think not.” Tav snatched Haarlep by the leather strap of their harness and dragged the fiend out from Wyll's tent. “Where's Raphael?”

“Busy. Our master has much to do.” Haarlep snickered, entertaining Tav's frustration as they allowed themselves to be pulled along. “It's terribly lonesome in the House when I have no one there to entertain me.”

“Gods, so you came to seduce my friends for fun?”

“No, I came to seduce you for fun.” The incubus' tittering laugh grated on Tav's last nerve. “You were out and about saving the world. I just wanted a snack.”

“I was under the impression that you were allowed free reign because you could behave yourself.” Tav huffed. “Now I see it's merely because the devil can't keep you.”

“Ah, the little warlock loves to throw barbs,” Haarlep's tail curled around Tav’s ankle. “She's precious when she's angry.”

“Stop it,” Tav kicked away the tail and tugged the fiend inside her tent. “I'm summoning Raphael and sending you home.”

Clawed hands snaked around her waist, their skin almost too hot to bear. Warm breath fanned over her cheek, and Tav spun to chide them again but found herself locked in a kiss. The incubus’ teeth sank into flesh, tongue curling past her lips in the next breath. Haarlep kissed her like a lover, gentle and harsh all at once. Tav was overcome with the heady sensation of being adored.

Intoxicating warmth began to pool between Tav's legs, the aphrodisiac in Haarlep's saliva clouding her brain and sending the world spinning around her. The incubus purred into her mouth, catching her when her knees went weak and depositing Tav's body onto the bedroll.

It was difficult to move her limbs, impossible to push away Haarlep as they climbed atop her lap. Their tail curled and flicked like a pleased feline, watching her with Raphael's golden eyes.

“Now, I don't want to take all the fun for myself. Let me entertain you, pet.” Black claws danced up Tav's thighs, catching in the material of her pants. The fiend's head tilted to the side, their crown of horns serving as an impressive silhouette in the lamplight. “Or, I could leave and let you solve this little problem on your own.”

This time, their fingertips ghosted over Tav's clothed cunt. She whimpered despite herself and Haarlep didn't bother masking their glee.

“I hate you,” Tav hissed. Still, her hips chased the devil’s hand. The next words from her lips were quieter, sheepish even. “Please.”

“Good girl,” Haarlep bent over to press their lips to the dip in Tav’s neckline, unbuttoning the first few inches with their teeth. With each expanse of skin revealed, they left bruises and bitemarks in their wake. Their fiery, golden eyes watched her, drinking in every reaction with a hunger beyond mortal understanding. Tav knew she was being hunted, consumed like a luxurious meal but consumed all the same.

It took immense effort to reach up and take one of Haarlep’s curling horns in her hands, nails scraping against the keratin and catching on one of the barbs. The incubus hissed, and through the haze in her mind she caught their hips buck forward. This ruined their patience with the many buttons of her blouse, and instead they sliced a claw through it and pushed it aside.

“Hey-” Tav started to complain but was cut off when Haarlep sealed their lips around one of her nipples. Their forked tongue curled over the sensitive skin, and Tav’s back arched into the sensation. Rather than words, a moan worked its way out of her throat. Shifting her hips, she felt her underclothes stick to her arousal and cursed again when Haarlep refused to move lower.

“Mortals are always so impatient,” the fiend chided as they licked their way down her ribcage. “You’ll get what you want, now let me play.”

The incubus hooked their thumbs in Tav’s waistband, dipping their head to untie the laces with their teeth. If she didn’t feel half-drunk she might have marveled at the talent. Instead, her mind was occupied solely with thoughts of sex and desire thanks to the poison on Haarlep’s tongue. Her vision was edged with darkness, and all she could focus on was the fiend’s tongue as it slid along the seam of her cunt. She wasn’t certain when they’d gotten her pants and smallclothes off, but any concern was swiftly blotted out by desire.

“Delicious,” hummed the creature. “Always so warm and wanting,” Haarlep’s self-satisfaction was palpable, a clawed hand taking Tav’s waist and smoothing their thumb over the tender skin. Their mouth returned to her core, tongue dipping inside her to satisfy their hunger for the sins of the flesh. It felt like they were trying to drink her dry, mouth sealed around her so that they could reach the deepest part of her. The fork of Haarlep’s tongue pressed against the place inside her that made her back arch from the bedroll, crying out before she could press a hand over her mouth.

“No, mouse, let them hear. Don’t be ashamed. You do enjoy this after all.” They reached up to tear her hand away, much larger body dwarfing her even as she tried to fight it. Settling her palm flat on the floor, Haarlep returned their attention to her core. Two fingers slid through the slick that pooled at her entrance, their blunted nails barely impeded as they dipped inside her, “Just a little attention and you’re ready. How I love your body, pet.”

Tav wasn’t certain when the incubus had disrobed, distracted by the needy pulse of her clit as she writhed and whined at the attention. They removed their fingers from her cunt to smear her arousal on the ridges of their cock, dragging the flared head through her folds. In an attempt for more sensation, Tav shifted her hips against them, crying out when they pulled away instead.

“We have his attention, mouse. He knows what we’re doing.” Haarlep’s voice was rough with arousal of their own, lips pulled back in a toothy grin. Tav’s eyes went wide in response, realizing just who ‘he’ might be. “Ah, I knew you still had a pretty brain behind all that blind desire. It’s delicious to watch you submit to it.”

With that, they pressed forward just enough to slip the head of their cock inside her. Tav sucked in a breath, feeling her body protest the intrusion of something so much larger than a mortal man’s. Haarlep was kind enough to take their time, lavishing her skin with open-mouthed kisses and smoothing their thumb in slow circles around her clit. Tav was wet enough that the slide was easy, muscles relaxing as Haarlep caught her mouth in a kiss and clouded her mind further.

It only took a moment before Tav felt their hips meet, and Haarlep pulled away from the kiss to release a throaty groan. They smoothed a hand over her stomach, and Tav made a tiny nose of distress when she saw the way her stomach bulged out. The incubus pressed down, desire rumbling through their chest as they thrusted shallowly into her.

“You take it so well, little warlock.” Haarlep’s voice was a sigh, their eyes fluttering shut and head falling back. “I could spend all day inside you, wouldn’t you like that? Forget your little adventure, stay with me here.” The honeyed words were too sweet to hold an ounce of truth, and Tav shook her head. Words might not escape her, not when she was half-mad with desire. Still, she wouldn’t become their toy.

“No fun,” Haarlep sighted. “I won’t hold it against you, mouse.” Their thumb on her clit became more insistent, drawing the circles tighter. Tav could feel her muscles tense, hips tilting upward as everything drew taut. Then, her orgasm hit her like a wave, washing over her as her cunt pulsed and her nails dug into the bedroll beneath them.

“Yes!” This time, the words drawn from the incubus were a snarl. “Give your pleasure to me, pet. My perfect little warlock. How good you feel.” Their hips drew back, smacking against hers harsh enough to hurt. The pain was mitigated by the post-orgasmic bliss, and when their thrusts grew uneven, she felt a shudder rack Haarlep’s body as they filled her. They kissed her, tongue licking into Tav’s mouth once more.

A wave of exhaustion swept through Tav, and she let her head fall back against the bedroll. Haarlep pulled away, curling around her body and soothing her bruises with their lips.

“Rest, pet. I’ll clean you up.” Haarlep stroked their fingers over her cheek, pressing a delicate kiss to her forehead as Tav faded into sleep.

When she awoke later, well-rested and well-fucked, she might be embarrassed. For now, Tav was content to rest.

[angsthology]

☾ intro to jupiter nightshade (ft. the commentary by yours truly)

-> series masterlist

Jupiter Nightshade.

How do you even begin to describe her?

Jupiter was everyone’s dreams and everyone’s nightmare.

You love Jupiter, you hate her, you admire her, you’re terrified of her, you want to be her, you want to be with her.

Some people even say that she’s a real daughter of the sky — others even dared say she is the God Jupiter of the sky.

But those were just rumors, probably.

Hard not to believe those when the woman looked like she belongs in a museum of fine art. Models envy her, they kiss the ground she walks on and thank whatever higher power that she decided to join the world of motorsports. She would render them all jobless if modelling was her actual career rather than it being an occasional obligation.

The gods really took their time with her. Dark, jet-black hair cascades down her back — she never really keeps it long, she had to wear layers a lot and she was not a fan of the itch and heat restrictions it gave her so she always opted for a short messy haircut. Her skin glowed olive, under the sun, it often looked like she was made of part-gold. But, oh, dio mio!—as she would say—her eyes, her eyes; they’re the magnet to all that is deserving, they’re blessed to those lucky enough to have been even looked upon with those eyes. Both a piercing shade of emerald green—only, here’s the twist, the drop of uniqueness to it; her left eye was split into two between the striking green and a soft brown.

Call it dramatic but what I say doesn’t stray far from the truth.

That was her looks. I can’t even begin to describe the talent, the spirit she possesses.

“THAT’S P1, KID! P1 ON YOUR FIRST RACE!” her engineer yelled in her radio, his words coming out of his mouth along with breaths of disbelief.

The racer hadn’t even heard a word he said, she was far too busy taking in the glory of the shock coming from the stands. There were occasional boos of course, but of course that doesn’t begin to beat the cheers coming for her. The rookie.

She was on a high, one she has never felt before. Not even when she was named F2 champion or any other race she’s won before. Formula One was a new kind of glory for her and boy she was already hungry for more.

That hunger? Never went away for the rest of her rookie season. Jupiter Nightshade was a mad woman and that made everyone (all the good ones anyway) fall in love with her.

God, she could never be full of the glory. Every moment she managed to get more it only makes her even hungrier for more.

“JUPITER NIGHTSHADE YOU ARE A GOD!” the energetic yells of her team principal boomed through her radio, almost making her flinch.

“Tell me something I don’t know.” she said smugly.

Ugh, what a smug little shit.

I still think she’s cool or whatever.

Think what you want to think about Jupiter Nightshade but everyone can always agree that she’s full of surprises.

Really, she didn’t know where it came from. One second she was kissing her winning trophy while perched up on the second and third driver’s shoulders, the next; champagne was everywhere and she was in the air — mouthful of champagne, (she’s young, she’s free, and most importantly, she was a winner. She thought.) she sprayed the liquid that was already in her mouth to the P2 holder, completely surprising them—not that they’re mad or anything about it, they were just taken by surprise by it and let it happen. Then she turned to the lucky three with a smirk on her face; the man was quick to try and duck away but she was faster than that (on-track, off-track, there isn’t much difference between her), spraying right into his face.

And, really, that was how it started.

It was… an interesting, but hot nonetheless—according to the Twitter sapphics anyway. (They’re right.)

But being one of the greatest always came with its negatives — worse when you’re a woman.

She was the world champion.

She was a rookie driver in a Renault with a world champion.

And yet… they are boo-ing her.

On the internet, anyway.

Which makes it even better. If they’re not brave enough (or, rich enough to even attend a Grand Prix) to say it to her face, what real value do their words even have?

But for now, she can only accept her first domination under the building lightning storm in the sky.

And hence, born was her first nickname—and I’m not talking about the world driver’s champion—no; from then on, the daughter of the sky was born.

What a scam! — 2019 spat out, Jupiter was called the rookie with immense beginners luck.

Cunt. She thought.

The media that once ridiculed her then acted as if they never doubted her a day in their life was once again turning their back on them.

Typical, she thought. Fame-hungry-worthless-losers with no sense of wording in their body whatsoever.

When asked about it, her answer was simple; the only answer she had given to the world that retched year:

“The car is finally realizing who’s driving it and just couldn’t keep up.”

Renault was angry.

How. Dare. She.

They gave her an F1 car for the first time in her career, they catered her to a championship in it, and this is how she repays them?

At that, she rolls her eyes, “What, like I’m wrong?”

You make a car that accommodates a champion’s needs, you get a champion.

Nightshade is not for the weak.

So when she made her move to Red Bull in 2020 many was not surprised — ‘it’s been a long time coming.’ (I know right, why didn’t she do it sooner?) — ‘of course, she did.’ (the fuck you mean by that?) — ‘oh, great, more overconfident Red Bull drivers, just what we need.’ (damn, right it’s what we need.) — and my personal favorite: ‘was she not already in Red Bull?’ (oh they wished they had hired her sooner.)

By the time her third WDC came around, people have already treated her like an evil dictator taking over Formula One.

The internet (and, Netflix too probably) have successfully painted over her spirit turning her into this soul-sucking, dream-stealing, non-caring of others’ well-being person.

Everyone was suddenly far too busy looking for her faults; everyone.

Did they care that she’s a woman dominating in a male-dominated sport? Not anymore (they miss having their favorite white man win.)

Did they even bother caring about who she was doing this for? (No, why should they? She’s not of any relevance.)

Did they even bother opening their eyes to the fact that Jupiter Nightshade is a good person.

To look past her brash personality, interesting habits, and behavior and just see her for what she stands for, to what she is proving; that how the media—the world treats her gender unfairly when the opposite can do the exact same thing (hell, sometimes even worse) and not be bashed as much as she was getting.

They can say what they want about her but she’ll be the one hearing “You are the world champion!” in her ears at the end of the season.

not proofread | taglist; @disneyprincemuke (no one was surprised) + ask to be added 🥳

[uchihaharlot]

Hello there, i really love your headcanons tbh maybe the realest ones here

Since I'm here its obvious im in Uchiha hell so,

Could I politely ask for uchihas turn ons and turn offs? I swear to god when i think about them horny it brings a tear to my eye from blissfulness

The realest ones? Nonny, you honor me to the highest degree and I am forever grateful you feel this way. ❤️🥹

I think a better question would be what doesn’t turn these men off (I also think I answered this differently than you might have wanted, I hope not though). 😮‍💨😌 Though none of these men are shallow individuals, so rest assured, anyone would be their type.

Semi-NSFW; just some things that make an Uchiha melt inside

Madara:

All natural women. I’m gonna be honest here; in Madara’s time, the more rounded a woman. The better (for breeding). But in all honesty, he appreciates all shapes and sizes.

His turn off is weakness, she needs to be confident. Which sounds callous, but if she’s not at minimum as much a firecracker as he is. The chemistry is off. Madara needs someone who is going to keep him on his feet with excitement, not someone who will make him second guess their intentions. The more outgoing and confident. The better.

If Madara’s laying her in his bed, she’s going to have to be a very patient woman. This man can go for hours, and a woman who can appreciate his stamina without complaint is high on his priority list, possibly good for breeding. Madara needs to fuck her this way, ok? A test drive so to speak. It’s just how he does it, raw and unadulterated lust. He also won’t tolerate a quickie like some men.

Obito:

Its no secret that Obi, bless his soul, is the black sheep Uchiha. The quiet ones are easier for him to talk to, not because they’re touch starved or anything. But because they are legitimately sweet and soulful. A woman who is confident won’t really make him feel nervous. But what he really wants is to kinda be taken care of, tenderly.

He definitely doesn’t like loud noises or sudden changes, so the more ground and constant, the better. So a woman who has a temper, is not for him. He might get riled with a little spice, but Obito definitely doesn't and won't be a push over, even he has his limits. Obito thrives in a static environment where he can make mistakes without being treated like a child, even better if she babies him a little. I'm sure there is a mommy kink somewhere to explore.

And in bed, he’s a total mess for her, does whatever she wants. If she wants to be treated like a pillow princess and owned, he'll be man enough for it. If she wants to make him beg underneath her, that too.

Shisui:

Shisui 🥹🔥 he’s so fiery!! Definitely is turned on by a woman who is into self care. Bonus points if she agrees to partner stretch with him, it's so hot being able to feel her this way and not sexually...yet. Someone who eats well, the occasional bad food here or there isn’t a problem, but damn if she’s into good diet and exercise, sign him up and don't forget, sparring is like foreplay for him. So, if she ends up pinning him down (like he planned all along), he’s gonna be so desperate for her. And she has to be loyal; to him, to the village and morality.

As for in bed? Their chemistry is so far off the charts, neither one can keep from switching positions. I really think Shisui is one of those men, like most Uchiha but on a different level even to his family, that can go for hours. Just because he can and because he likes to see her all fucked out, it's different from her usual mouthy self, which reminds me. She needs to be just as spunky and spontaneous as he, maybe not on the same level, but a woman who is down for whatever is the best kind of medicine. Especially for a man with the whole village on his shoulders.

Itachi:

I love him, he's such an old soul. They say opposites an attract and while I think he would like someone like himself, I also feel like someone who could keep him on his toes a little. If she's a scholar, this is perfect. Itachi would really enjoy someone who he can discuss world politics with. Not too in-depth, but casually. That level of self awareness the sharingan gifts them with can often leave many Uchiha feeling mismatched, but someone who has wits to his is a godsend.

As for in the sheets, Itachi is someone who is very reserved when it comes to matters of the flesh. Trust and sex go hand in hand, he's not like Shisui who can stick it anywhere, pretty quickly too, (he once told Itachi he used a spaghetti squash as a fleshlight). Trust is earned, gained and has to be absolute. Once this is accomplished, he's so damn tender. The softest moaner, but he does it right in your ear. Hearing and seeing you enjoy sex with him is what ends up getting him going harder. Even better if you speak your desires as he rearranges your insides. As time goes on, you learn what a closeted freak he really is and end up in the false atmosphere of his Tsukuyomi.

[naughtyneganjdm]

Naughty or Nice - Chapter 4

Summary: Y/N inadvertently gets closer to Negan and his children while also distancing herself further from her family.

Characters: Negan, the reader (OC), Maggie, Glenn, Greene Family, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51464518/chapters/130908127

Warnings: 18+, Swearing, angst, small amounts of smut, etc.

Notes: Thanks for taking the time to read. If you celebrate today, I hope you have a nice day. This is a gift for you if you are bored and need a distraction as well. I appreciate all of you.

It had been a long time since Negan had felt like a teenage boy in love. Yet, with Y/N sitting over him with her fingers hooked with his while they talked, he felt like he did when he was a kid falling in love with Lucille all over again. Between her laughter and her expressions while she asked questions about his life, Negan found himself absolutely smitten with her.

“Favorite color?” Y/N listed off another question making Negan’s nose wrinkle in amusement. “Come on, you spent forever asking me questions. Now it’s my turn.”

“I know, I know. These are serious fucking questions,” Negan teased her, a rumble of laughter falling from his throat with her fingers hooking tighter with his. “Black or red. Most of my attire is black so it’s probably black, but there is something about red that I like.”

“I feel like I probably knew that answer,” she teased him getting more comfortable over him while they learned things about one another. “Favorite drink?”

“Coke. The soda,” Negan answered her, tipping his head back into the pillows from where they were at. “If I’m trying to be healthy, I’m just going to go with water. The coke just sometimes helps me from smoking. I also live on coffee.”

“What’s your favorite kind of coffee?” she followed up with finding herself smitten with the man beneath her while his thumb stroked at her pulse point.

“I like variety. I just need a lot of caffeine to get me through,” Negan informed her with a loud sigh. “I pretty much live on coffee, Coca-Cola and cigarettes. Candy sometimes too.”

“Sounds extreme,” she teased him, bobbing her head when Negan shrugged his shoulders. “Are the cigarettes a stress relief for you?”

“I tried to stop. I really did, but it’s hard,” Negan answered with a long sigh, his dimples sinking in when he thought about all the times he tried to stop in the past for his kids and Lucille. “It’s really the only bad thing I do. Well…for the most part. I tried, but nothing works. It was a bad habit I started in high school and it just never left me.”

“I see,” she hummed adjusting her positioning over him. “What about your favorite food?”

“That kind of switches up too,” Negan knew that he wasn’t giving her the best answers, but they were the most truthful. “I enjoy pizza, hot dogs…occasionally I’m in the mood for some good sushi. I do enjoy lobster rolls when I get the chance to have them.”

“A man of taste,” she snickered leaning down enough to steal a quick kiss from his lips that had him humming out. “Was Lucille the first woman you slept with?”

“She was,” Negan responded against her lips, pulling back enough so that his big eyes were locked with hers. “We were teenagers. Madly in love. And then we kind of fell apart, but time always brought me back to her. What about you? Was Glenn your first?”

“God no,” she snickered, her eyes turning somewhat serious while she thought about the question. “I never found something like what you had with Lucille. So it always makes me happy to hear about things like that. I’m just sad about what happened to her.”

“That’s not your fault,” Negan’s eyebrows furrowed, his lips parting when he thought about Lucille. “No one ever expects to get cancer. Unfortunately, it was pancreatic cancer and it happened so fast. We were told the survival rate was really low, but I was hoping because Lucille was the strongest woman I ever knew she would be able to beat it. I prayed a lot. More than I ever had in my life. It really just taught me to appreciate every moment we have in this life because we don’t know how much time we have left. Because eventually, if you don’t, you find yourself missing out on the things that you could have had all along.”

“Jesus,” she frowned, a lump growing in her throat hearing Negan’s confession to her about his wife. Loosening her fingers with one of his hands, she extended her hand out to sweep in over his cheek in a tender caress. “I’m so sorry.”

“Me too,” Negan whispered, turning into her hand to press a kiss over the inside of her palm. “I think you two would have gotten along very well. She was awesome. Your personalities from what I’ve learned about you are a lot alike. Just two really incredible, badass women that know their worth and just light up a room when they are in it.”

Gazing up at the lights that Y/N had put up in the attic for him, Negan pointed toward them and cracked a smile, “Literally.”

“I feel bad that I never took the time to know you. I just thought you were this guy that hated me because I took the job that you wanted,” she brushed her fingers throughout Negan’s hair, her eyes showing the emotion that she felt for him in that moment. “There is so much more to you than what I thought there was.”

“There is still a lot to learn,” Negan used his free hand to reach up to grasp her jaw between his thumb and index finger. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m still an infuriating pain in the ass at times. Don’t think I’m not. I can be the biggest asshole. I have a swearing problem and the humor of a teenage boy. But there are a lot of layers here.”

“No kidding,” she smirked enjoying the way that his thumb caressed over her jawline. Sighing, she lowered down in over Negan and cuddled her head in against his chest. Almost immediately Negan wrapped her up in his arms to hold her, his chin cuddling in over the top of her head. Listening to the sounds of his strong heartbeat, she sighed and bit down on her bottom lip. “Negan? What’s wrong with Maggie?”

“What do you mean?” Negan’s fingers caressed up and over the lengths of her back, leading to her neck while she got comfortable over him.

“Maggie was always the perfect one. Everyone loved Maggie. Everyone,” she educated Negan about the past with her sister. “I never hated Maggie, she really was the whole package. Beautiful, outgoing, charming…”

“I don’t think there is anything wrong with Maggie,” Negan began, a loud exhale falling from his throat when the idea of his girlfriend was fresh on the mind. “Maggie is beautiful and there are a lot of good things about her. I just…when you know, you know. And I never felt that spark with her. I enjoy having her around, but I know it’s more so a case of I like not feeling lonely. I love Maggie, but I’m not in love with Maggie. I know that sounds awful. It’s just there are some people you connect with, but not in a way where you feel like you are meant to be with that person.”

“And why do you think I’m that person?” she leaned back, pressing her hand in over his chest to steal a look up at him. All of this perplexed her. When it came to it, anyone in her life that knew both her and Maggie always picked Maggie. “You’re so convinced that there is something here.”

“Because last night, I felt that spark. Fuck, it hit me like a bag of bricks,” Negan responded, his fingers sweeping in over the side of her face. Everything he said seemed so sincere and it took her breath away. No one in her life really ever said the things to her that Negan was saying. “When you meet that person, you feel physical pain when you’re not with them. After you walked out of that car, I was in pain because I knew that I wasn’t going to be able to see you. When you texted me last night, I was smiling so much that Beau asked me if something good happened at work because I looked happier than I usually did. Most of my life, I put on this fake smile,” Negan flashed the charming, bright smile that he always had on his face before exhaling and shaking his head, “but it’s usually fake. It’s a façade. I hide my pain behind these fucking dimples and this smile. But last night, it was real. And my boy caught onto it because he is more perceptive than anyone I know. Once you and I connected…I just know this is it.”

“It’s been one day,” she reminded him and he shrugged. It was something she also had to remind herself. Yes, she had known Negan for a few months, but they really hadn’t connected on a personal level until last night.

“I don’t care,” Negan breathed out, his fingers brushing her hair out of her face. “I know how I feel. I know it’s wrong and I feel…bad, but Maggie shouldn’t be with someone that doesn’t feel that special feeling that I’m describing. And I don’t think Glenn deserves to be led on either.”

“Glenn is such a good guy,” she noted, her sigh loud when she laid her head back down over Negan’s chest. “There is nothing wrong with Glenn either. That’s why I always thought the problem was me. Why would I not be satisfied with someone who is perfect?”

“Like I said, someone can be perfect. But that doesn’t mean they are perfect for you,” Negan responded, his heartrate growing faster the more he thought about things. Being with Maggie was Negan settling. And that was not what he deserved in life. “I know it might feel like we’re rushing things here Y/N, but fuck…after how I lost the last person I care about, why would I want to waste any time with someone I feel so strongly for?”

“I’m not supposed to like you like this,” she gasped feeling Negan rolling her over onto her back so that way he could crawl in over her pinning her beneath him. Having Negan’s eyes on hers like they were took her breath away. “Everything says we shouldn’t be together.”

“Yet here we fucking are,” Negan slurred, his fingers curling around the side of her neck and his thumb drawing out over her jawline. “I’ll deal with the repercussions and I will take them head on. Because you…you take my fucking breath away. In all the right ways. Even the first time I saw you…God, you are so fucking beautiful…”

“You and your ridiculous fucking dimples,” she huffed, lifting up to bring them together to eagerly kiss him with all the passion that had been building up between them. Cupping his face in her palms, she knew that every time he opened his mouth, she found herself falling harder and harder for this man. “It’s not fair the way you make me feel.”

“Nothing is ever fair,” Negan groaned when she nibbled at his bottom lip. Hooking his arm around her waist, he brought her up closer to him and softly bucked up against her. “But we have to make the most of things.”

“You’re very persuasive,” she moaned out, lifting her head to see that his hips were rubbing up against her again and again in slow, forward movements. The friction felt incredible having her heart skip a beat. Kisses were pressed down the side of her neck while Negan’s hands started to open her pants up. “It’s probably a bad thing that we can’t keep our hands off each other, Negan.”

“You say it’s a problem, I think it’s a good fucking thing,” Negan growled, tugging the material of her jeans further down her hips while she worked with his pants again to get them open. Hovering his lips over hers and balancing his weight on his hands, he smiled and shook his head. “It means we both like each other a lot. How can that be a problem?”

Scrambling to get his pants down his waist, she gasped when Negan adjusted her body easily on the bed crawling in over her. Her knees were locked with her pants still around them keeping her thighs close together when Negan led his hard cock toward her body. Tracing the tip through her folds had her crying out at the sensation.

“Please…” she begged hearing him snicker in response, his eyelashes fluttered with a wicked smirk tugging at his lips. Tapping the swollen head of his cock against her clitoris had her whimpering and he adjusted his body to move in over her. Right when Negan was about to go forward with what they both wanted, she heard the sound of a car outside. Shoving into Negan, she heard him grunt when he fell off her and onto the ground in a thud. Pulling her pants up, she couldn’t help but laugh that she had managed to knock Negan completely off the bed. Looking down over the side of the bed, she saw that Negan was pulling his pants up his body, his jaw flexing while he stared up at her. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“You’re stronger than I thought,” Negan pouted lifting his hips up to pull his jeans back up over them. Adjusting, he attempted to press himself back into the tight confines of his jeans, but it was kind of hard with an erection. It hurt, but he knew that the sound of a car definitely meant everyone was home since they were in the middle of nowhere.

“Do you hate me now?” she wondered, her eyebrows bouncing up when Negan got to his knees. That question amused Negan, his snort loud enough for her to hear when he leaned forward. Brushing his lips over hers, Negan let the kiss linger. Every kiss from him took her breath away. A kiss from Negan was one of the most addictive things she had experienced. And that worried her.

“No, but this hurts,” Negan looked down with a huff, standing up from the floor and looking down at the bulge in his pants. Shifting, Negan wiggled his hips and pressed his hand in over his groin to adjust his body. Shaking his head, he knew that it wasn’t working and grumbled under his breath. “Fuck. I need to run and go put cold water or something on this before the kids run in here and make it weird.”

“The kids?” she heard the front door opening of the house. It didn’t give her much time to think before Negan was scrambling down the stairs in attempts to rush to the bathroom before anyone got up here. And it was a good thing he did that. There were footsteps heard almost immediately after she got up from the bed to start going back to putting the decorations on the tree that she had previously started doing for Negan.

“Dad! The food was absolute shit, but they had this pie that was really good, so I got Maggie to buy us a whole pie that…” Beau’s voice was heard as he moved up the steps to Negan’s room, his words coming to a halt when he reached the top of the stairs. “Holy shit.”

“Oh, hey,” Y/N gazed back over her shoulder at Beau who was holding onto a big white box. “Sorry about the food. I could have told you that the food was crap. It’s better in the small town that isn’t far away from here, but you’re right about the pies. They are pretty good.”

“Hey,” Beau didn’t know what to say, eyeing over Y/N while she was in his father’s room setting up some decorations. “Did you do all of this?”

“Uh, yeah,” she spoke up, throwing her hand up in the air to point to the decorations. This was awkward. Not because of Beau, but because her face was flushed over and her heart was hammering in her chest. Thankfully things didn’t get further with Negan because then this would have been really uncomfortable. “I wanted to help your father feel more at home with things.”

“My mom used to do things like this,” Beau informed Y/N finally getting up into the attic with her grasping tightly to the box that he had in his hands. There seemed to be a sense of awe in his eyes while he looked everything over. “Every room in our house was decorated like this. This is really cool. It’s been a while since I’ve seen something like it.”

“It sounds like your mom was a really cool person,” Y/N noted to Negan’s son, her heart racing knowing that she was just in a rather promiscuous position with Beau’s father not much earlier. And now that she was alone with Beau when Negan was downstairs doing God knows what in the bathroom, it made things complicated, but she was doing her best to act normal. “I’m glad that something like this could bring memories of her back for you.”

“Everything reminds me of her it seems. Especially around Christmas,” Beau shrugged his shoulders and moved over to set the pie box down on the table. Moving beside Y/N he looked down at the box of decorations and pointed to them. “You need help?”

“I’d love help,” she responded with a nod of her head, gazing over Negan’s son who seemed excited to be able to do something like this. “Did you and your mom used to do things like this?”

“All the time. She went crazy with decorations, but we loved it. It made everything more magical,” Beau answered her with a bright, vibrant smile that almost matched what she knew was Negan’s. “It’s why I feel bad for Erin. She was really young when my mom passed away, so I don’t know if she will remember the fun that we had. My mom loved Halloween too, so things lingered a little longer than they probably should have, but when it was time for Christmas decorations, there wasn’t a room in the apartment that wasn’t lit up.”

“I understand your mom doing that. I do the same thing, it just makes me feel more at home. Christmas doesn’t really feel like Christmas if your house isn’t covered in copious amounts of decorations,” Y/N muttered hearing Beau snicker and nod his head. “Do you want to decorate the room that you are staying in?”

“Is there stuff to do that?” Beau wondered, his eyes seemingly excited at the idea. “I mean, we would have to do it with Erin’s room too. If you have enough for just one, we can do it for her. She’s younger and it’s more important for her to be able to have something like this.”

“I think we can manage to pull enough together for both of you,” she smirked hearing how eager Negan’s son was to make sure that his younger sister had a good experience. “Are you more of a reindeer guy or a snowman guy? I think we have a lot of decorations with those two things. We can give each room a theme.”

“Probably reindeers,” Beau replied and she gave him a firm nod. Looking around the room, Beau let out a huff and realized that he completely forgot that his father wasn’t even in the room. “Where is my dad?”

“He had to run to the restroom,” Y/N answered, her throat tensing up knowing that Negan was going to be having some issues for a while. Accepting the answer, Beau went back to decorating the tree and she sighed. “You look so much like your dad.”

“Is that a good or bad thing?” Beau’s nose wrinkled and it made her smile. “You might hate my dad, so that’s why I’m asking.”

“It’s a good thing,” she half laughed with a shake of her head. “I don’t dislike your father. At all.”

“Also a good thing,” Beau noted, digging through the box of decorations to see what they had in them. “I look like my dad, Erin looks like my mom. Weird how that works.”

“I’ve never seen your mom,” Y/N realized that Negan had spoken about Lucille, but like he had mentioned last night, she had never made it around to the other side of his desk to actually see the photos that were in Negan’s office.

“I can fix that,” Beau motioned her to wait pulling out his cell phone from his pocket. Holding it up, Beau flashed on the screen to show her the image that was his background photo. It was a family photo that was likely taken in the fall with a younger Beau, Erin with Negan and Lucille.”

“She was beautiful,” Y/N complimented Beau’s mother leaning into get a better look at her. That wasn’t a lie. Lucille was beautiful and you could tell that everyone in the photo was close. It was a sweet moment and their family looked happy back then. Hell, even Negan looked happier back then. “You have some of her features too.”

“Thank you,” Beau sighed pushing his phone back into his pocket. “Is Annette your mother too?”

“She’s my stepmom,” Y/N answered with a nod of her head. “But she’s the only woman that has been in my life, so she is kind of my mother.”

“What happened to your mom?” Beau inquired and the sound of steps were heard. Looking back over her shoulder, Y/N saw that Negan was making his way back up with the two of them.

“She died after giving birth to me,” Y/N informed Beau hearing the loud exhale that fell from Beau’s throat. “I never really knew her. And I don’t really know what she looked like because my father doesn’t have any pictures around. He’s never really been big about showing things to me.”

“I’m sorry,” Beau stood still for a minute, unsure of what to do before stepping forward to give Y/N an unexpected hug. Standing there she lifted her head to look to Negan making sure it was okay. With a nod, Negan stayed back watching her lower her arms to wrap them around Beau to return the gesture. “Your mom is a big part of growing up. I’m sorry you weren’t able to experience that.”

“It’s not your fault,” she stammered, her head lowering with surprise at how sweet Negan’s son was being. Hearing his words drew her eyes to burn and she felt them damp. God, it had been so long since she had even thought about her mother. “I guess I learned to stop thinking about her because of my dad.”

“Your dad should have never done that,” Beau lifted his head, stepping back and away from Y/N. “He should have kept the memory of her alive in your heart. You’re part of her and you always will be. Maybe we can find a photo around here somewhere?”

“Beau?” Negan spoke up and it made Beau look over his shoulder at his father as Negan finally made it up to the top step. Unsure of how Y/N would react to what Beau was saying, Negan was trying to change the subject so she didn’t get hurt from his son’s innocent curiosity. “How’s it going kiddo?”

“I was just helping Y/N finish decorating this tree,” Beau pointed toward the tree and Negan pushed his hands into his pockets. “She said that she would help me decorate my room downstairs and also Erin’s. It will be like when we had Christmas with mom. With all of our rooms decorated.”

“That’s really nice of her,” Negan noted, his eyes connecting with Y/N’s when Beau went back to finishing putting up what he had for the tree. “Where is your little sister?”

“She is downstairs with Maggie and Glenn. I think Maggie wanted to show something to Glenn and she wanted to see too,” Beau waved his hand about in the air after he finished. Going over to the box that he brought for his dad, he handed Negan over the box and smiled. “They have your dinner and Y/N’s dinner downstairs, but I actually got this pie because I really liked it. It was the only thing that was actually good. You both can have some if you want. You should probably eat your dinner before it gets crazy cold.”

“Good idea kiddo,” Negan placed his hand in over the small of Beau’s back to help lead him toward the stairs. After Y/N put a star on top of the tree, she gave a final once over before nodding her head. “Let’s go eat.”

“Sure thing,” she went to follow Beau down the stairs, but Negan stopped her. Leaning in, Negan pressed a drawn out kiss over her cheek, his fingers brushing over her jawline after he pulled back. “What was that for?”

“For being good to my kid,” Negan whispered, his eyebrows bouncing up and his fingers hooking with hers to lead her down the stairs with him. At the bottom of the stairs, Beau was waiting for them and his hazel eyes fell upon the two of them holding hands. Gradually Negan’s fingers slipped from Y/N’s and Beau tipped his head to the side. “Lead the way young man.”

When they made their way downstairs, Glenn and Maggie were standing by the fireplace while Maggie held Erin in her arms. They were enthusiastically talking about something, but Beau was tugging them both toward the kitchen. Stumbling in attempts to catch up with his son, Negan felt Beau urging him down at the kitchen table and he chuckled. Beau did the same with Y/N before bringing them two takeout containers.

“Here is your food,” Beau looked over his shoulder around the kitchen. “Hey Y/N? Do you know where the plates are so I can get all of us a slice of pie?”

“Just let me do that for you kiddo,” she suggested getting up from the table urging Beau to sit at the other side of his father. Negan flipped open his takeout container to see that there were chicken tenders and fries inside.

“Trust me, this looked like it was the best,” Beau tapped the top of the table making Negan smirk when he stole a fry and plopped it into his mouth. Smirking, Beau stared out at Y/N as she moved around the kitchen to her father’s home trying to relearn everything. Sliding in closer to Negan, Beau spoke up in a whisper doing his best to hide his words from Y/N. “She reminds me of mom.”

“Hmm?” Negan looked back over his shoulder to see the way that Y/N was standing at the middle of the kitchen trying to plan out her next move. “Y/N?”

“I mean she probably doesn’t, but when I saw her decorating upstairs it reminded me of mom,” Beau explained, remaining quiet while Y/N moved around the kitchen to grab everything she needed for them to have pie. Y/N set two regular sized plates out for her and Negan for their dinners. Setting out three smaller plates for the pie, she cut a slice for each of them before holding her finger out. “What are you doing?”

“We’re going to need a piece for your sister,” Y/N responded and Beau immediately nudged Negan with his shoulder causing Negan to snicker.

“What?” Negan took another fry and chewed on it slowly when Beau looked excited about something. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Beau rolled his eyes and happily accepted the two plates that Y/N handed him of the pie. After she had everything on the table, Y/N pulled open her box to see that they had gotten her a sandwich of some kind. Negan eyed it over and she held out her box for him to see.

“You want to share?” she offered to him seeing Negan eyeball her food and his. Grabbing half of her sandwich, Negan grabbed half of his chicken tenders and gave them to her for them to share. Holding her finger up she motioned him to wait while she went to go grab ketchup for the fries. An inevitable smile tugged at Negan’s lips while he watched her, but Negan straightened his posture when he noticed that Beau was watching him while he was eating his pie that Y/N had given him. Sharing the small plate of ketchup that Y/N had brought for them, Negan cleared his throat and knew that his son was catching onto things and that wasn’t good.

“You two share meals a lot at work?” Beau interrogated them, poking at his plate with his fork watching both Negan and Y/N go for the sandwich first to eat. Negan looked to Y/N who swallowed down hard and shrugged her shoulders. “I didn’t realize the two of you were so close.”

“Your dad and I just work on a lot of projects together,” Y/N answered back knowing that really didn’t answer Beau’s question. “We’re used to being around one another.”

“Mhmm…” Beau hummed when he took another big bite of the pie that Y/N had brought for him. Beau finished off his pie while Negan and Y/N ate their meals that they were sharing together. Once they made it to their pie, they heard the sound of movement in the kitchen.

“Daddy!” Erin’s voice called out and Negan slid his chair back, his arms holding out for Erin to jump into his arms. Giving his daughter a big hug, Negan nuzzled his nose in against the side of her neck which had her giggling. “I missed you!”

“I missed you too baby girl,” Negan peppered her cheek with kisses before she wiggled out of his arms once Beau motioned her to come take a seat next to him so she could have the pie that Y/N had gotten for her. “Did you two have a good time with Maggie’s family?”

“It was kind of strange,” Beau was honest, his expressive eyebrows bouncing up. “We only knew Maggie there so it was weird being with a group of strangers. Glenn is really nice. And he knows a lot about video games. Him and Maggie seemed to get along well.”

“Oh?” Y/N’s eyebrow arched in curiosity watching Beau help Erin cut up her pie for her to eat.

“Hey, you two are down here,” Maggie’s voice interrupted that thought drawing their attention to the entrance of the kitchen. “I was about to come up and get you Negan.”

“Little man came and grabbed me,” Negan informed Maggie with a mouthful of the last bite of the pie that they had brought home. “You doing good?”

“Yeah. Glenn and I were just talking about that snow globe that I got when I was younger for Christmas,” Maggie turned her attention to Y/N who in return seemed surprised that Maggie was talking to her about something. “I guess Glenn’s family got him the same snow globe. You remember how much I loved that thing?”

“That’s cool,” Y/N offered up a tiny smile, nodding her head. Glenn made his way around the table, his hands squeezing softly over her shoulders. Tipping her head back, Glenn lowered down to press a faint kiss over her lips and it made Negan look down toward his plate with a discomfort flooding his body. “You having a good night honey?”

“Yeah, everyone is really friendly. They are going to watch some movies tonight. Apparently, Hershel takes a projector that he has and uses the whole wall as a screen,” Glenn described what he had learned to Y/N who smirked considering it was her own father that Glenn was talking about. “That should be cool.”

“Yeah, if you want to do that, I think that’s cool,” Y/N lifted her hand to place it in over Glenn’s to give it a supportive squeeze. “I promised Beau that I would help him decorate both his and Erin’s room for Christmas to help them feel at home here. While I do that, you can watch the movies with them if you feel comfortable.”

“Say what?” Erin looked between Beau and Y/N, a crooked smile tugging at her young features. “That sounds fun!”

“That’s very nice of you,” Maggie complimented Y/N on what she had just told them. “Do you need some help?”

“That’s up to you. I know you like movie nights,” Y/N pushed away from the table to look up at her older sister. A long exhale fell from her throat when Maggie reached her hand out and Y/N accepted it, giving it a small squeeze. “I think I can handle these kids. Dad has a lot of the lights still upstairs in the attic. I just ask you to take care of Glenn. Don’t let dad scare him too much.”

“He’s actually been really nice to me,” Glenn claimed with a tiny smile finding relief in knowing that Hershel was treating him good compared to what he had seen with Negan earlier. “I was worried after what he did with Negan, I would be next in the lineup.”

Negan grumbling under his breath had Maggie laughing and she moved around the table to step in behind him. Caressing her hands in over Negan’s shoulders, she slid them down over the center of his chest and leaned down to press a kiss against Negan’s cheek, “It’s okay baby.”

“I don’t know why that man hates me,” Negan frowned knowing that Maggie was Hershel’s favorite, but Hershel never really even knew Negan. So it didn’t make sense for Hershel to hate him so much. “By the end of this trip I’m sure that he will open up to you.”

“Good luck with that,” Beau snickered from where he was sitting and it made Maggie laugh before looking to Beau to hush him. “I’m just saying Maggie. That was intense what happened earlier. Your dad hates my dad and I don’t think that’s changing.”

“You feeling okay after everything?” Maggie questioned, her fingers stroking at the revealed skin over Negan’s chest. “You didn’t get hurt, did you?”

“Thankfully I’m quick on my feet,” Negan responded knowing that while he was a little sore, he didn’t actually get physically hurt. “I think my pride is just down because of the fact I ended up face first in a pile of mud.”

“We all fall sometimes daddy. That’s okay,” Erin suggested and they all knew that Erin was too young to understand that Hershel was purposely trying to hurt Negan earlier. “I’ve done it before too. Sometimes those kind of things just happen,” Negan brought Erin’s hand up to place a delicate kiss over it. “Are we going to watch the movies tonight?”

“I think we need to help Beau and Y/N with the decorations honey,” Negan explained and Y/N shook her head, finishing off the pie that she had. “Are you sure?”

“I can handle it all on my own if all of you want to watch the movie. I don’t mind. I like that stuff,” Y/N offered to decorate the children’s rooms if they wanted to take in the movies that her father would play for Christmas.

“I’d like to help you,” Beau interjected letting them know how he felt about things. “I like doing that kind of stuff. I don’t mind if dad and Erin watch movies with everyone else. I think it would be cool.”

“I’m okay with that,” Y/N looked to Negan for permission who gave her a single nod. “And if you guys get sick of watching the movies, you can always come to help us. What do you think?”

“I think that sounds like a deal,” Negan leaned back toward where Maggie was holding onto him, but he outstretched his hand to place it over Y/N’s hand. Giving Y/N a wink, Negan sighed and pulled his hand back. “Thank you. That’s very nice.”

After they finished with dinner, Y/N made sure that everyone was comfortable before heading back up toward the attic to gather things. Beau followed along with her and he was rather quiet compared to earlier so she hoped he wasn’t getting nervous being around her alone. Beau suggested they do Erin’s room first, so that’s what they did. They put things up quickly before getting to Beau’s room where they seemed to linger a bit.

“What’s your favorite thing about Christmas?” Y/N spoke up and Beau looked over at her surprised that she was trying to make small talk with him. “You have to have a favorite thing, right?”

“I think my favorite things are more so the memories that I have,” Beau answered with a frown while he worked to help put the lights up around the room. “Baking cookies with my parents. Bringing out all of the boxes with my mom to go through things. Just sitting by the fire with my mom and having hot chocolate. Dad coming to get me and Erin when the Christmas presents were under the tree so we could be excited. He always made a big deal about it. They were so much fun.”

“That sounds really nice,” she commented on Beau’s memories seeing the way he took a minute to think about things, his dimples sinking in before smiling. “When I was younger, I was kind of the black sheep of my family. I always dreamt of those Hallmark movie families. You know?”

“I think that was my mom’s goal in life. For us to be like one of those sickeningly loving families,” Beau snickered, turning to face Y/N while she held onto the lights that were in her hands. “All of that sounds cool to me. You know? The small town, going to the events…it was fun. But of course, we lived in New York so we still got to do really cool stuff. All the time. It’s probably cooler than those small-town movies.”

“What do you want to do before Christmas? What would be your ideal list of things to do?” Y/N pushed for an answer seeing the way that Beau tipped his head to the side. Holding her finger up, she set things down on the bed and then moved for the desk to sit down. “Can I use this paper here?”

“Sure?” Beau moved over to the bed to take a seat on the edge of it, his fingers curling around it in curiosity. Y/N seemed to be writing something down and he cleared his throat uneasily. “What are you doing?”

“Give me a list of things you want to do before Christmas and we will try to get them done,” she suggested and it made Beau laugh. “What?”

“You don’t even know me,” Beau reminded her and she shrugged her shoulders. “Why would you do that for me?”

“Why not? I always wanted to have that tight-knit family like those in the movies and you miss doing things with your mom. Let’s make both things happen for us so Christmas can be special for both of us. Obviously, I’m not your mom, but I would like you to have that kind of magic back into your life for the holiday,” she offered and it made Beau’s hazel eyes get big with awe for what she said. “So have at it. Tell me what you want to do.”

“I want to make sugar cookies with Erin. The way that mom used to. Where it was messy and just fun,” Beau listed off the first thing he could think of, his head lowering when he gathered his thoughts and Y/N wrote it down. “I want to go ice skating at night under the stars. I want to go sledding and build a snowman as a family. Do they do events in the nearest small town?”

“They do,” she informed him with a small nod of her head. “They have a big Christmas tree where people get together and sing carols. They have Santa in town with some reindeer that they let the kids see. There is a family that has a farm out here with a lot of woods. They have a mile long walk where the woods is just filled with loads of lights and interactive things to do.”

“Can we do all that?” Beau whispered, his tone unsure and it made her smile faintly before nodding. “Are you sure? It’s not that many days until it’s Christmas.”

“We’ll make it happen,” she assured Beau with a shrug of her shoulders. “They have these really cool shops down at the center of the town where they have a lot of exciting things going on too. It’s not like the shops at Bryant park, but there are some cool interactive activities that you can do along with Erin.”

“That sounds fun,” Beau nodded his head about, rubbing his hands together. “I know it sounds stupid, but I just would do anything to get that kind of happiness that I did when I was with my mom. When it was all of us.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to bring back that joy that you had with your mother here, but if I can do things to make you and your sister happy…to give you some ounce of joy, then it’s worth it to me,” she whispered, lowering down the list that she had written for them. Looking down at the papers, she bit down on her bottom lip and sighed. “You like to paint, right?”

“I do,” Beau responded seeing her writing something else down on the paper that she had for him. “Why?”

“I was just thinking about something that I used to do as a kid. It’s not really a Christmas thing, but it really helped me in my time of sadness while I was stuck here,” she informed Beau, folding the paper up and sliding it into her pocket. “We’re gonna make all of this happen kiddo.”

“Thank you,” Beau gave her a weak smile before they went back to working on the decorations in his room. After a while, Beau stood beside Y/N at the center of his room once they were finished to get a look at everything. “So…you and my dad?”

“What about us?” she muttered, her eyes gazing upon the work that they did together.

“I never realized the two of you were so close,” Beau pointed out, rocking back and forth on his feet when he thought back to seeing the two of them holding hands earlier. Something seemed to change in Y/N’s eyes when Beau mentioned the two of them being close and it intrigued him. “I mean my dad always talked really well about you. Complimented you and your work ethic all the time.”

“I thought your dad hated me for a while,” she stated with a frown knowing that she was ignorant to the way things really were with Negan at first. “I don’t know if he told you, but our boss gave me the job that your dad wanted. A lot. So I thought he might hate me for that.”

“No, I don’t think he hates you,” Beau shook his head, his head tipping back and forth. “Yes, he was really upset when he didn’t get that job, but my dad got over it. I think he knows that he has a good job. That he gets paid well. After my mom, I just don’t think he takes things that deep. There is so much in the world to be upset about. That was not something that was worth ruining his life for.”

“Yeah,” she didn’t know how to respond to Beau so she just nodded her head about. “How do you feel about Maggie?”

“Should I be honest with you?” Beau didn’t know whether to answer her question legitimately or to lie. Hearing her laugh, he shrugged his shoulders and turned toward her. “I think Maggie is nice. But I don’t feel a bond or a connection to her. She’s hard to really click with. I think she gets an idea in her head and she can’t really get it out. Again, she’s really nice and she does good things, but…I don’t know.”

Beau seemed shy when it came to talking about Maggie. Maybe he was afraid of offending Y/N, but he wasn’t upsetting her at all. She just wanted to get a feel for how things were with Maggie and Negan’s son. If Beau loved Maggie, it would have only made her feel worse about what was going on with her and Negan.

“Do you want to go watch movies with your dad and your sister?” Y/N inquired, pointing toward the door that was open, but it was followed up with a sigh. “That’s a no?”

“Can we take another minute to just talk about things?” Beau proposed surprising her that he would want to talk to her. Thinking things over, she grabbed a pencil and one of his drawing pads. When she handed it to him, Beau tipped his head to the side. “What is this?”

“I will sit and talk with you if you draw for me. We’ll do a game. I’ll draw you, you draw me. We’ll pick two Christmas type items to add to the photo. What do you say?” she offered up a sense of something fun to keep Beau interested. It made him laugh, but he pulled his feet up onto the bed and rest back against the headboard. “I’ll give you, reindeers and penguins.”

“Okay. I’ll give you Christmas lights and a Santa hat,” Beau gave her the two items that he thought of first. Starting to sketch something, Beau’s face twisted when he kept looking up at her. “It’s probably not fair that I’m just a beginner and you are the second in charge at your company.”

“That means nothing. Some kids are more talented than I am,” she claimed while she got comfortable in the chair sketching the shape of Beau’s face out. “When did you pick up drawing?”

“I saw my dad doing it all the time and I think I wanted to be like him,” Beau declared thinking about his past of when he started to draw. “Dad would just draw stupid, silly things all the time. Both him and my mom would always put notes in my lunch for school. Other kids would tease me, but it never bothered me. I had parents that loved me and wanted me to know it. I thought that was cool.”

“That’s really sweet,” she found it charming hearing that about both Negan and his late wife. The way that Beau talked about his parents, she could tell that they were both incredibly loving with their children.

“I carry two notes on me. I have one from my dad when I did my first big play where I was the leading role and I have the last letter that my mom ever wrote me,” Beau exhaled loudly making Y/N lift her eyes to stare out at Beau who seemed conflicted with his emotions. “I don’t ever leave home without them.”

“I’m sorry Beau,” she spoke softly and it drew his eyes up from what he was drawing. “I can tell you were really close to your mom. I don’t understand things about this world. You losing your mom…it’s not fair.”

“Just like it’s not fair that your mother was taken away from you,” Beau speculated and it made her stop. It wasn’t often that she got to think about her mother, but on occasions when she did, she did often feel cheated with life. “It’s not your fault Y/N. You’re like me. We’re both broken, but we’re doing our best to make others happy.”

“You sound so much like your father,” she felt like she had been kicked in the gut when those words left Beau’s lips. It made her lower her drawing down and she shook her head. “You’re like a mini version of him.”

Hearing that made Beau lower his drawing pad and he cleared his throat uneasily, “You and dad are closer than people think, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know,” she felt embarrassed that she just blurt that out to Negan’s son damning herself for saying that. “We work together a lot. So I guess we could be viewed as pretty close sometimes.”

“Close enough for my dad to tell you that he was broken? And that you were broken too?” Beau muttered, shifting forward on the bed to stare out at her. There was a silence that surrounded them and Beau sighed. “Maggie doesn’t understand that. You know that?”

“Doesn’t understand what?” she tried to focus on something other than her relationship with Negan when she went back to sketching her drawing of Beau.

“That he’s still broken. My dad needs to be with someone that makes him happy. And it’s not Maggie. I just think he feels like he owes her something. That’s why we are here. He’s afraid that if he turns Maggie away, he’s going to be alone again,” Beau informed Y/N, his throat tensing up and he shook his head. Going back to his drawing, Beau knew it was a lot to put on a stranger but he didn’t often get to talk to someone who knew Maggie as well. “I don’t like Maggie for my dad. They make good friends, but she doesn’t make him happy like my mother did. He hides behind a fake smile. It’s not real. That’s why I don’t get why we’re here with Maggie’s family. It’s not true love like it was with my mom. There is something missing behind his eyes when he’s around her.”

“Have you talked to him about it?” she spoke quietly knowing that they had the door open and she didn’t know if people would be near to hear them.

“I have,” Beau responded with a frown, getting comfortable again. “I know he agrees with me. I just think he’s scared.”

“I understand that,” Y/N thought back on her own engagement. The only reason that she was engaged to Glenn was because she didn’t want to hurt him. Never did she think she would be engaged to Glenn. Like Negan, she just liked having the company. She wasn’t used to nice people and Glenn was very nice. At this point, she knew that she was Glenn’s first big relationship. “Sometimes adults do things because they feel like they must. I think that’s kind of where your dad is.”

“So you agree that him and Maggie shouldn’t be together?” Beau confirmed with her, but that question caught up with her and she didn’t know how to respond. “You don’t have to lie to me Y/N. Your secrets are safe with me.”

“No. I don’t think him and Maggie should be together,” she whispered lowering down the sketch again, her eyes narrowing while she stared out at Beau. “Not with the things that your father has said to me. I agree with you. I don’t think they fit well together.”

“I’m glad I’m not alone,” Beau bobbed his head about before going back to working on the project she gave him. “You’ve already bonded with me more than Maggie has. And I’ve known you for a day.”

“Like you said kid, people like you and me…we just click,” she gave Beau a wink which made him smirk. It took a while before she was done with her drawing and Beau finished not long after. “I’ll show you mine first and then you show me yours?”

Beau gave her a nod, holding his drawing pad close to his chest when she turned her drawing around to show Beau. It looked exactly like Beau, except she drew him with a Santa hat on his head and a necklace that had large bulbs to represent his request of Christmas lights. Sliding closer to the bottom of the bed, Beau couldn’t help but smile.

“Now I feel silly,” Beau turned his drawing around to show that he had drawn her more in a cartoon form wearing reindeer antlers. It was cute, but the first thing that really caught her attention was the penguin character that he had sitting on her shoulder in his drawing. “I could have done realism, but I went with what I was feeling right now. Which I guess was more cartoon like or comic?”

“Beau, it’s me,” she felt happiness sharing this moment with Negan’s son when she reached out for the drawing. Gazing it over, she was in awe of what he had actually done and she shook her head. “I love this. I can keep this?”

“You want it?” Beau was shocked that she wanted the drawing that he had done. “Really?”

“I do,” she watched Beau reach for the drawing pad to carefully pull the sheet of paper out. Going to hand it to her, she shook her head and nodded to it. “Please sign it for me. I want to keep this forever so when you are a big artist, I can say I have one of your originals.”

“Stop,” Beau snickered, his dimples becoming more prominent when he signed his name on the bottom right corner of the drawing. “It’s a silly drawing.”

“That I’m going to cherish,” she clung to the art and saw him nodding toward her paper.

“Can I keep yours?” Beau inquired, his eyebrows bouncing up and she nodded writing something on the drawing before handing it over to him. Reading what she wrote had his features turning very serious before a small smile tugged at his lips. “To Beau, your heart shines brighter than the sun. Never stop being you because you’re one in a million. You’re a shining star in the night sky.”

“I’m lame,” she informed him standing up from the chair that she was seated in, throwing her hands up in the air. “I’m going to go put this in my room so I don’t lose it. And then we should probably go make sure everyone is okay.”

“Yeah,” Beau agreed with her, sitting at the center of his bed when she left his room. Clearing his throat, he folded the drawing up and reached for the wallet that he carried. Putting it in his wallet, he stood up from the bed in time to meet Y/N at the door.

Once they made it downstairs together, they saw that Negan had fallen asleep at his corner of the couch with Erin cuddled into his chest watching the movie that was on the wall with big eyes. Maggie was in the middle talking to Glenn who was sitting at the other end.

“How is it going?” Y/N sat on the arm of the couch, reaching out to caress over Glenn’s shoulders. Her touch made him smile, his head tipping back so he could stare up at her. “Is Maggie treating you good?”

“Yeah, it’s been nice,” Glenn explained, his fingers reaching up to hook with hers. Moving around the couch, Beau knelt down and took a seat in front of the couch resting his head against Negan’s knee. The touch made Negan’s eyes flutter to an open. Lifting his head, Negan saw that it was Beau resting against his knee and he smiled. Brushing his fingers through his son’s hair, Negan got more comfortable cuddling Erin in closer to him. “It’s been a very relaxing day.”

“I’m glad it’s been relaxing for you,” Negan snorted in a whisper from where he was and it made Maggie chuckle. Maggie reached out to brush her fingers through Negan’s somewhat messy hair and she frowned. “I’m exhausted.”

“Once the movie is over, we’ll get all of you to bed. Okay?” Maggie dragged her palm down over the side of Negan’s face. Right now Y/N was actually happy that both Beau and Erin were taking up the space with Negan so Maggie couldn’t cuddle with Negan. Whatever they were watching was near the end, but Negan could barely keep his eyes open. It was actually sweet seeing how tired Negan was for her. By the time the movie reached the end, Erin started poking at her father’s cheek getting his heavy eyelids to open in a sluggish motion. “Movie is over Negan.”

“I know that. I was awake the whole time,” Negan yawned, adjusting on the couch and standing up. Keeping his arm hooked around Erin, he pulled her up with him and then reached for Beau’s hand to help him up from the ground. “Let’s get you guys to bed.”

“We’ll be right up,” Maggie tipped up on her toes to give Negan a quick kiss. When she did it, Negan’s eyes were hooked with Y/N’s showing that he didn’t want to be kissing Maggie. Watching them head up the stairs, Y/N sighed and Maggie nudged her sister. “Did it go well?”

“It did. Which hey, I wanted to talk to you about a few things,” Y/N pulled out the list that she had written down earlier with Beau. Handing over the list to Maggie, she saw that Maggie was reading it over unsure of what it was. “I talked to Beau about the things that he wanted to do before Christmas. You think we can make these things happen?”

“I can’t see why not,” Maggie felt Glenn stepping in beside her to look over the list with Maggie. “Beau told you all of this?”

“He did. I think it’s the best way we can attempt to give him a good Christmas,” Y/N informed her sister, reaching for the list again to put it back into her pocket. “Plus, it gives us something to do. You know? That way we don’t just sit around waiting for dad to come up with something.”

“I agree with you,” Maggie waved her hand about looking in the distance seeing that Hershel was talking with Beth and Annette. “I think it’s a good idea. Just let me say goodnight to dad and then we can all go to bed. I’m tired too.”

“You ready?” Y/N reached for Glenn’s hand. Glenn nodded with a smile, accepting her hand in his when they moved for the stairs. Once they got up them, Y/N stopped when she saw that the door to Erin’s room was open. Inside Negan and Erin were in the bed. Erin was fast asleep laying on Negan’s chest and Negan was already asleep too. There was a book in his hand that he was likely reading before falling asleep and she couldn’t help but laugh. “What did you do to the poor guy?”

“I’d be worn out too if your dad did to me what he did to Negan,” Glenn released an amused sound admitting that he was happy that he wasn’t the target of her father’s anger. Hearing footsteps, Y/N looked back over her shoulder to see that both Maggie and Hershel were headed upstairs together talking. Glenn pointed toward the open-door causing Maggie to stop, letting out an amused exhale when she saw that Negan was crashed with Erin in his arms. “Your boyfriend is out cold.”

“He never sleeps that well,” Maggie noted, resting her shoulder against the doorframe and Hershel stopped to get a look at what everyone was staring at. The way Negan was laying didn’t look all that comfortable, but it was cute. Heavy breaths were falling from his slightly parted lips and it did feel a bit strange that Y/N, Maggie, Glenn and Hershel were all watching him.

“I told you he was fine,” Hershel interrupted the two women who were watching Negan sleeping cuddled up to his daughter. “He should have made it up to his room, but I’m not about to wake him up.”

“He’s probably crashed because of you,” Y/N reminded her father, shooting him a quick glare noticing how close Hershel actually was to her. “Probably had an adrenaline rush when you tried to kill him today.”

“Oh boy, we’re never getting over this one. Are we?” Hershel stepped back, pushing his hands into his pockets and giving a sheepish shrug. “It was just a little joke. That was all.”

“It wouldn’t have been funny if Apollo would have killed him and then you had to explain to his kids how you just killed their father,” Y/N pushed further feeling Maggie placing her hand in over her shoulder to hint that maybe it was time to stop talking. Considering Negan was Maggie’s boyfriend, she should have been just as angry. “You know what? I think I’m going to head to bed. I need some sleep.”

“Good idea,” Hershel piped in and it drew a chill through her spine. Man, her father was capable of bringing out the anger in her. That was for sure. Glenn said his goodbyes to Maggie and Hershel before following her toward her bedroom.

“Hey, are you okay?” Glenn reached for Y/N, his fingers loosely wrapping around her arm to get her to look at him when they stepped before her bedroom. Glenn’s dark eyes seemed worried, his jaw flexing in a nervous fashion. “You’re not mad at me, are you?”

“Why would I be mad at you?” she immediately denied that idea, stepping forward to brush her fingers through Glenn’s dark hair. Hushing him, she feigned a smile and let out a long exhale. Whispering, she stepped in closer to him since Maggie and Hershel were still not far away in the hallway. “You have to understand, there is a lot of things I didn’t tell you about my family. They just make me very uptight and upset.”

“I can see that you had some history with them, but I like them,” Glenn informed her speaking quiet enough for it only to be the two of them that could hear. Hearing that made a lump form in Y/N’s throat and she nodded her head. “I think it’s good for you to be here. I don’t really know what happened between all of you, but I think your family is nice. I like them. Maggie has been really friendly and Hershel just seems rough around the edges.”

“Right,” Y/N swallowed down feeling immediately shut down even though she knew Glenn was just trying to be sweet about things. Glenn always saw the good in things. And this was probably partially Y/N’s fault for not opening up to him about her past with her family. “I guess I should have explained things to you a long time ago. It’s my fault that I didn’t.”

“Come here,” Glenn motioned her into her bedroom so that they could actually talk for a minute. It left her feeling uncomfortable when he pushed the door shut behind him. “I think you’re here for a reason. You want to fix things with your family. You want them to love you and want to be near them. You missed them. I think maybe now is a time to let go of some of the feelings that you have. Start over new. You came here because you wanted these people back in your life.”

“I almost think I came here because I wanted to prove that I could make it without them,” Y/N countered, heading over to her bed to sit down on the edge of it. Even with her response, she could see that it was one that Glenn didn’t approve of. “My father wrote me off completely Glenn. And look what I was able to accomplish.”

“I don’t know Y/N. Life has to be more than just…that,” Glenn sat down beside her on the bed, his hand reaching out to hook his fingers with hers. “I think it would be good for you to connect with your family. Once we get married, it’s going to have to be more than just the two of us, right? If we have a family, you’ll want to have family to be around them. Or else things are going to be really lonely. They already are kind of lonely. My family is so far away. I moved with you because I love you, but I do think family is important. No matter how messed up they are.”

“Right,” she thought about what Glenn was saying and she didn’t know what to say in return. “I love you Glenn, I do, but sometimes I think you only asked me to marry you because I was the first woman you were with.”

“Here we go,” Glenn let out a long breath, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I should have never told you that when I was drunk. I can’t believe that I did.”

“It’s not bad that you told me I was the first woman that you were with,” she explained, her fingers hooking tighter around his. “I’m just saying I think sometimes you feel like you have to be a certain way with me because I’m the first big relationship that you had.”

“I wouldn’t have asked you to marry me if I didn’t want to marry you,” Glenn assured her leaning over to press a loving kiss over her cheek. Closing her eyes, she wished that she believed that, but she really didn’t. There was a knock on the door followed by the door opening and Y/N saw Maggie standing before them. “Hey Maggie.”

“Did dad send you?” Y/N almost teased knowing that her father wasn’t very big about having ‘boys’ in the room.

“No, dad went to bed,” Maggie alerted her, pointing back toward the hallway. It made Y/N’s eyebrows bounce up and she laughed. Of course her father didn’t have a problem with Glenn being in her room, but he despised Negan being near Maggie. “I was just wondering if the two of us could talk for a few minutes?”

“I guess that means it’s time for me to go to bed,” Glenn pat Y/N on the knee before standing up. Giving her a wink, he headed for the door and glanced between the two of them. “Good night you two.”

“Night,” Maggie winked closing the door behind him when he left. Standing at the door, there was some awkward tension between the two of them before Maggie headed over to take a seat on the edge of Y/N’s bed. “I guess now would be a good time for me to apologize. We should have been talking. You were living in the same city as me—hell, you were my boyfriend’s boss and I had no clue. I should have never stopped talking to you.”

“I guess that falls on both of us,” Y/N responded when she reached for her pillow to hold it close to her chest. Resting her back against the headboard, Y/N felt guilty knowing that this was Maggie’s attempt at getting them to bond again. “I should have tried keeping a relationship with you and Beth. I was just so upset with dad and I thought everyone took his side.”

“He really was…is hard one you,” Maggie admitted, her green eyes gazing over Y/N. “But look at you! You did what you said you would. You’re a big lady boss in the city. Racking in the money and you proved that your art could make you money. You proved dad wrong.”

“I guess so,” Y/N knew that’s what she wanted her family to see when she got here, but she could tell that her father still thought she was a joke. “Truth be told, I never thought you would leave here. I’m proud of you for moving to New York City. That’s not the Maggie I knew.”

“Well, I wanted to try something new,” Maggie confessed placing her hands back behind her and bracing her weight on her palms. “It was exciting. I met a lot of people. Did a lot of things that I never thought I would. Things I would never tell daddy,” Maggie snickered looking to Y/N with a tip of her head. “And then I met Negan.”

“Yeah? How did you meet him?” Y/N questioned knowing that Negan already told her but she wanted to hear it from Maggie’s perspective.

“It was at a street vendor. I was already having a bad day and he grabbed the drink I was going for when it was the last one. I ripped his head off for it. Horribly. And he laughed at me which infuriated me. I shoved him. Went to sit on the steps of a building near the street vendor like a child. Negan sat down next to me, handed me the drink and a hot dog. Told me I obviously needed the drink more than he did. I think he was on a lunch break. And he didn’t leave. He was sitting there eating his lunch and I chewed him out telling him I didn’t need his charity. He made some smart ass comment and it got under my skin, but I was hungry so I ate what he got me. Afterwards, he got up and said goodbye. I felt bad. Went after him to apologize. We agreed to get dinner at a bar near where we met and well…”

“Well?” Y/N’s eyebrow arched in curiosity and Maggie looked back toward the door.

“I don’t know what it was, but something about Negan intrigued me. We bickered. A lot. But I liked him. So I dragged him into the bathroom at this old bar where we had sex,” Maggie whispered trying to keep her voice down when she turned to face Y/N. “Whatever went wrong that day, it was easy to forget because Negan is…really good at sex. It’s almost infuriating how good he is at it. We were in a bathroom stall and at that point, it was one of the best sexual experiences of my life. I’d had a lot of experiences in the city, but Negan stood out the most. You see Negan…” Maggie stopped herself and her faced flushed over with color, “I shouldn’t tell you that, you work with Negan.”

“Go for it,” Y/N waved her hand up in the air knowing that she was feeling jealous hearing what Maggie was telling her.

“Negan has a really nice dick,” Maggie blurt it out, her eyes getting big when she nodded her head about. “It’s above average. And it’s thicker. I’ve been with guys who had a bigger dick that are very arrogant because of it. They think that just because they have a big dick they are God’s gift to women, when in reality they are just stabbing the hell out of you with that thing and you can’t wait for it to be over. It’s not like that with Negan. As infuriating and annoying as he can be, he knows what he’s doing with it.”

“I would have never guessed it was big,” Y/N lied hearing Maggie laugh in response. Right now Y/N was just doing her best to hide her jealousy. “With the ego on him…”

“I know, you almost think he’s making up for something, but he’s got a reason to have the ego. From his work to his body…he’s impressive,” Maggie explained with a loud sigh, shaking her head in response. “After that night I thought I just had the best one-night stand of my life. But then the two of us just kept running into each other. I don’t even think we agreed to officially date. We were just together all the time. I got a little weirded out when I found out he was a widower with children.”

“Why?” Y/N was curious knowing that Beau and Erin were two things that actually made her more attracted to Negan.

“Because I was having the time of my life. The last thing I wanted was to be tied down with a teenager and a six-year-old,” Maggie reasoned with her sister, curling her arms around her knees. “At that age, both Erin and Beau already had their mind set on how they felt about things. I always thought if I had a family, I would start my own. It took me realizing that life wasn’t slowing down for me to agree that I was okay with Negan’s children. They are good kids. They don’t terrorize me. And they are part of him. I’d be a fool to not want to be with Negan. He’s a pain in the ass, but he’s got a good heart. He’s loving. A good father. He has a good job. If we ever had children ourselves, I know he’d make a good dad. I’m ready to take that jump and get married to him, but I think he’s still stuck on his late wife that died. It makes things a little complicated.”

“I see,” Y/N lowered her eyes, squeezing the pillow in closer to her. Hearing Maggie suggest that she wanted to get married to Negan really upset Y/N. “It sounds like you picked up a real winner with Negan.”

“I guess it depends on who you ask,” Maggie slurred, her head shaking when she let out a nervous laugh. “Here I am talking all about myself. What about you and Glenn? How did you meet Glenn?”

“Uh, he was my pizza delivery guy,” Y/N was honest about her relationship with Glenn. Maggie’s nose wrinkled and amusement flooded her features. “With my job, it’s hard to really have dinner ready so I was ordering pizza, a lot. He was always really sweet and after the first time he delivered the pizza to me, he would keep bringing me little extras. I thought it was charming. And one night it was raining so hard. He was soaked. So I just offered to have him come in and have a piece with me so he could dry off.”

“Did you have sex with him that day?” Maggie pushed and Y/N shook her head. “Come on.”

“I’m sorry. We’re boring,” Y/N suggested with a shrug knowing that her story in comparison to her and Negan’s was really tame. “I asked him out and the first date he showed up with a bunch of roses. It was really sweet. And then I just liked having his company. He’s fun and he’s sweet. It was nice to have a friend around. And then I guess it just grew into more.”

“What about Glenn? How is sex with Glenn?” Maggie questioned and Y/N found herself less inclined to tell her sister about her sex life with Glenn. “Come on. I literally just told you Negan’s dick size.”

“No, you just said he had a big, thick dick,” Y/N countered with a shake of her head. Once she responded that, Maggie threw her hands up in the air to suggest a size before holding her hands up to give a thickness in comparison. It made Y/N shake her head and she lowered her head into her hand. “I have to stare at this man every day of my life Maggie.”

“You’re welcome, now give me the details,” Maggie poked at her sister and it made Y/N feel ridiculous. “What was sex with him like?”

“Honestly Maggie, I was his first,” Y/N explained which was followed by a small snicker from Maggie. “Don’t tell him I told you that. He was really embarrassed. You have to understand that Glenn is very shy. He had no game at all. And I think most women ignored him because of his job, but he was cute. And he was sweet.”

“So he got better with time then,” Maggie noted, pushing into Y/N’s shoulder. “Since when have you been prude about sex details?”

“My whole life? I’m not really comfortable talking to my family about my sex life,” that wasn’t a lie. It was always something that she was uneasy about. “Then again I guess I should have been more open about that whole thing.”

“Here we go,” Maggie frowned, tipping her head to the side. “Is this going to be about Shane?”

“I wasn’t going to go there,” Y/N scoffed shaking her head immediately. “I just meant that maybe the two of us would have been closer if I was more open with you.”

“Good because I don’t want to go back to that,” Maggie threw her hands up in the air, waving them about. “You now have Glenn and I have Negan…”

“Maggie, I thought you didn’t want to talk about it,” Y/N pointed out, lifting her right hand to point her finger at her sister. “Yet you’re going off about it.”

“How was I supposed to know that Shane was the guy that took your virginity Y/N? Like you said, you weren’t very open about things,” Maggie rambled on and it made Y/N roll her eyes before leaning back against the headboard to listen to her sister go off. “Yes, I’m aware that I slept with your boyfriend when we were younger, but you didn’t tell me it was your boyfriend and he really was too old for you at the time. If daddy would have known that Shane was having sex with you, Shane would have gotten in a lot of trouble and you didn’t want that. Not with Shane’s potential football career.”

“I don’t care about Shane,” Y/N contemplated her past knowing that the first man she hooked up with was never good for her in the first place. “Shane got what he wanted. He spent time with me to get close to you. It is what it is.”

“That’s not what you thought back then,” Maggie reminded her sister and Y/N let out a tense sound. “You were so angry with me for the whole Shane thing.”

“My boyfriend dumped me for you,” Y/N threw her hands up in the air and found herself frustrated with her sister. “I was a teen. So yeah, I was upset. Especially since I told you and you kept dating him. And then you only dated him for like two weeks and then you dumped him for that other guy. So Shane was always showing up begging me to talk to you. It was a little overwhelming. But I’m telling you, the last thing I care about right now is Shane. I looked the guy up and he’s a cop somewhere. And the last thing I would want to be with is a cop. Shane was not good for either one of us. I think it’s safe to say that both Negan and Glenn are better than Shane. So seriously…”

“Point taken,” Maggie went silent, her green eyes shifting showing that their discomfort was back between them. “Shane was one of those guys that didn’t know how to have sex anyways. It was fun making out with him, but sex…”

“Maggie, he was the first man I had sex with. I know what sex was like with Shane,” Y/N interrupted her sister not wanting to talk about her ex-lover any longer. “I swear. I’m not mad at you for Shane. Neither one of us lost out when it came to Shane.”

There was a silence that followed again and Y/N looked to the time, “Can we maybe talk about life tomorrow? We can have lunch together, plan our days out with what Beau requested of us and just talk about normal things. Life. Not sex? I just am really tired. I don’t get to sleep a lot.”

“Sure thing,” Maggie stood up from the bed, reaching out to squeeze over Y/N’s shoulder. “I’m glad to see you again sis.”

“Believe it or not Maggie, I’m happy to see you too,” she waved goodbye to her sister finding herself thankful when Maggie finally left. Turning off the lights, she crawled into the bed and wondered if she was doing the right or wrong thing here. Especially after that discussion.

Toward the middle of the night, the sound of her door opening was heard and it woke her from her sleep. Footsteps moved around her room, surprising her when the bed dipped and she let out a nervous sound when someone crawled into the bed beside her.

“Relax boss,” Negan’s deep voice rumbled from behind her, his arm hooking around her waist once he crawled into bed with her. Nuzzling his nose against the back of her neck drew her to let out a long exhale having the warmth of him cuddling her close. At this point she wondered if it was a dream that she was having. Right now, Negan was the only comfort she found in things, so the idea of having him crawl into bed with her to hold her? That sounded like a pretty good dream for her. “I just want to hold you for a while.”

Adjusting her positioning in the bed, she hooked her fingers with Negan’s and cuddled back into him. Knowing that Maggie was sleeping in her old bedroom not far down the hallway did enter her mind when Negan’s deep breathing followed not long after showing that he had fallen asleep. After everything that happened tonight, it just made everything else feel so much more complicated and she hated that.

----

Tags: @slutlanna976 @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @de-gabyconamor​ @ibelongtonegan @smallsadjellyfish @labyrinthofheartagrams  @msjamesmarch @thebeautysurrounds @hotfornegan @redmercysugar @caprithebunny @tuttifuckinfruitty @emoryhemsworth @a-girl-interupted @akumune​ @stoneyggirl2 @xsarcasticwriterx  @haleygreen23 @xhannahbananax03 @sanctuaryforthelost​ @burningredaffair @killaweiser @dead-of-niight @ayumi-wolf @hollyismentallyillhelp @promiscuousbarnes​ @tone-stark @lanadelnegan @flippittygibbitts @stickyhuesos

[archangeldyke-all]

doing asks publicly makes me so nervous but i'm gonna do it anywayssss. i sent you a couple of asks but you said you didn't get it so im gonna send you this one that i've been thinking about for a hot minute-- i think its really cute like omgmgggg ANYWAYS

sevika with a younger (20s) vampire reader who watches her from afar and leaves her really pretty vintage looking gifts, romantic poems, and cute love notes? basically just the reader leaving stuff that sevi takes an interest in!! i'd love for this to be with a black reader if possible <3

this is so cuteeee!!

a quick note and disclaimer before we start! i don't know much about vampire lore, just the very basic stuff, so i apologize if this isn't the exact vampire vibe you were hoping for, or if i get some things wrong, i'm mostly just guessing hahah. also! i'm white, and i'll try my best to make this an obviously black reader without shoving it down your throat, but if i get anything wrong, please lmk and i'll fix it right away :)

men and minors dni

zaun is a great place for a vampire to live. sunlight rarely reaches the low levels of the city, leaving you free to roam whenever you want, day or night.

additionally, the abundance of crime and violence, as well as the lack of any real help from piltover, means that the occasional dead body (both human and animal) with puncture wounds in their necks go relavitely unnoticed.

it's these reasons that made you decide to settle down in zaun for a while.

it's sevika that made you decide to stay.

you've never met the woman, at least not traditionally, but that doesn't mean you don't know her.

the first time the two of you crossed paths was one late night in the dingy streets of the lanes.

you were starving, out searching for a rat or cat or maybe even a man harassing some poor girl to sink your fangs into. you had wandered away from your usual haunts and toward the newly re-furbished 'last drop.'

rumor had it that the new owner had some shady dealings on the side. you figured it'd be a good as place as any to catch a scumbag in action, or maybe find someone so drugged out on shimmer they wouldn't notice waking up the next morning with a pint of blood or so missing.

as you approached the bar, the few stragglers out this late grew into a rambunctious crowd. you grinned, ducking into a dark alley, licking your lips in anticipation of your next meal.

it took no time at all for you to find your target. a crowd was standing outside the bar, laughing and goofing off as they played with a handful of dice and passed around some cigars and joints. a girl in the crowd kept winning, and you watched as one of the men she was with grew more and more irritated as she continued to pick up her winnings.

the second he put his hand on her in an attempt to pull her back and backhand her, your fangs descended, knowing you'd found your guy. you ducked out of the alley, reaching out to grab the man by the bicep and pull him toward a shadowy corner.

but before you could touch him, he was being harshly pulled away from the young woman and thrown on the pavement.

you paused in the mouth of the alleyway, watching with increasing interest as a tall, strong woman towered over the man, glaring down at him.

she was smirking. you found yourself smirking too.

"what did i tell you about hitting women in my bar?" she rasped out. the man on the pavement beneath her pissed himself, his pants quickly growing dark as he shook in fear. the crowd he was with had dispersed, but a few eyes were watching and shaking their heads in admonishment of the man.

"i-i'm not in the bar sevika, we're outside!" the pathetic man cried. the woman above him laughed, and you watched in fascination as a blade slowly descended from her red poncho. he squealed.

"i swear i won't do it again!" he tried, scrambling away on his back as he tried to evade the woman. she smiled down at him, chuckling as she shook her head.

"no." she said. "you won't."

in a flash, the blade at her side swung down across his neck.

your stomach growled as the smell of blood drifted over to where you hid, and your loins stirred as you watched the woman keep eye contact with the man until his sputtering and twitching halted, and he died. she spat beside him, then turned to walk back into the bar. her bar, apparently.

when no one was looking, you quickly drug the body to the alleyway. his neck was tattered, but you were able to get a pretty decent feed by draining his arms at his wrists.

and after cleaning your mouth, relishing in the warmth quickly pumping through your body, you entered the bar, and spent the rest of the night in a dark corner, your eyes trained on the strong woman as she made rounds around the bar, occasionally pausing to join a game of cards or drink a whiskey.

since then, you've spent almost every night watching her.

you've learned a lot about her since you started watching her. like how in public, while she's at work, she carries herself around with a straight spine and no-nonsense attitude. but while she's at home, alone in her apartment, she's softer. she likes reading, especially romance novels. and she trades out her whiskey for a sweet white wine when she's really into a book.

she sleeps on her side, facing the door like she's ready for the first sound of danger. there have been a few times that she's left her window cracked and you've carefully floated in through her curtains, hovering beside her as you watch her breathe.

you've touched her once, running your finger down the pretty blue scars on her face. she had shifted and murmured, but hadn't woken up, seemingly not finding your presence threatening.

she smells incredibly fucking tantalizing.

not in the way humans usually smell attractive-- like blood and sweat and life. no, she smells better. she smells warm.

warm like whiskey and vanilla wraps for her cigarillos. warm like the brown sugar body wash she uses, warm like the wool of her favorite poncho.

you swore to yourself you wouldn't act on your attraction. you swore to yourself you'd just watch-- not interact.

but then, one night as you were watching sevika eat a cold, lonely dinner in her apartment, she broke down into tears.

your heart broke. you almost revealed yourself to her, just to wrap her up in your arms and press a kiss to her head.

and when she went to sleep that night, you just had to do something to make her feel a little better.

you quickly rushed down the street to the convenience store down the street, and bought the biggest bag of cheesy chips you could find. (you've watched the woman back away cheesy chips like she was preparing for hibernation-- you knew she'd like them.)

you left them on her welcome mat.

(and though you weren't there to see it, the next morning while sevika was leaving for work and she tripped over the bag, she stared at them in confusion for about three minutes, before a soft, sweet smile pulled up at the corners of her lips.)

the next night, when you came back to watch her through her window, you were thrilled to find the bag of chips half empty and sitting on her counter.

since then, you've given up on any and all semblance that you wouldn't interact with the woman.

your gifts have gotten increasingly intense.

they started with little snacks and trinkets left on her doorstep. but after the first time you saw her reaction, a little happy smile when she opened the door to a chocolate candy bar, your heart soared, and you gave up on keeping your gifts casual.

you started leaving bottles of her favorite whiskey.

then, the wine she sneaks when she's alone.

she was hesitant to open it. it sat on her counter for a week, like she was suspicious of the gift. but, eventually, she gave in and cracked the bottle open.

once she got used to her bottles, you took it up another notch. flowers from time to time. ointments and balms for all the cuts and bruises she's always coming home with. scented candles for her home, more blankets for her bed. (she's always shivering.)

one day you notice the shoelaces in her boots are fraying and old. so you bring her new ones.

one evening, you watch as she finished her smutty novel, then pout at her bookshelves when she realizes she's already read everything else on it. you bought her a series she didn't own yet.

you've even taken to getting dolled up before your nightly visits to her apartment, like she'll see you.

you feel ridiculous each time you apply your body butter and lay down your baby hairs just to watch a woman who doesn't know you exist sleep for a few hours, but you can't help yourself from the compulsion.

it's only when you start using her bodywash scent in your shower so you can always smell a bit like her that you finally admit to yourself that you might be a little bit in love with the woman.

just a little bit. (right?)

you start reading her romance novels in your free time, renting them out from the library and tearing through them in hours.

you're thrilled to find that all of them happen to feature two female leads.

you're also struck by the fact that her favorites-- the ones she reaches for time and time again-- all feature some sort of love letter confession.

so you make a plan.

it goes like this:

on week one, you start signing your presents with a simple "your secret admirer."

on week two, you leave a rose with every offering you bring.

(sevika keeps them all, hanging them upside down from her window so they preserve themselves.)

on week three, you start adding little notes to your gifts.

"your smile takes my breath away" (even though you don't really breathe anymore.)

"i hope silco doesn't piss you off today" (even though he pisses her off every day.)

"i wish i could sleep beside you every night" (even though you don't need sleep. you'd just like to hold her, protect her from whatever she's so scared of.)

and then, on week four, you decide to give her a letter. a full blown, totally honest confession about everything she's made you feel these past few months.

only-- something happens.

the night before you're meant to deliver the letter on her front mat, you feed off of a street rat. rat blood isn't nearly as satisfying as human blood, but you like to avoid actual murder when you can.

but this rat must have been poisoned, because you wake up with lead in your stomach and a hangover you haven't had since you turned.

you've accidentally ingested rat poison before. and while nothing can technically kill you, a whole lot of shit can make you horrifically sick until the blood works it's way out of your system.

so you have to put the plan on hold for a week.

on day one, you just lie in bed in agony.

on day two, you start shivering.

on day three, you manage to vomit up whatever of the blood remains in your stomach.

and today, day four, you wake up crying.

you miss sevika. as stupid as it sounds, she's been the most entertaining part of your life in... centuries.

and you can't see her. and you can't give her your letter. because you pass out each time you try to walk farther from the bed to the bathroom.

you groan at the ceiling as your stomach rumbles again.

"being a vampire fucking sucks!" you cry to your cat. she purrs in your lap and you sigh. "i can't eat food, i can't go in the sun, i've got all these stupid heightened senses-- and what's the point of being immortal if i can still get fucking sick?" you cry. your cat opens one eye to glare at you for interrupting her nap, before she rises and jumps down from your bed, running away.

"and now you're abandoning me in my time of need!" you wail after your cat.

there's a knock at the door.

you groan as you crawl out of bed-- your body is too weak to do any sort of flying right now-- and wander into the living room.

you're certain it's a neighbor, here to yell at you again for yelling at your cat.

but when you swing open the door, you almost pass out at the sight of sevika smirking on your doorstep.

you scream, leaping backwards, quickly snatching a blanket off the couch to wrap around your three day old soiled pajamas, and then gasp when you remember you have your bonnet on.

you reach up to pull it off-- then think better of it, knowing your hair's likely a mess beneath it. you haven't taken it off in days.

"uh." you squeak. sevika smiles at you.

"hey." she says. you blink, reaching up to rub your eyes, certain this is a poison induced hallucination. it's not, apparently.

"uh." you say again. sevika chuckles, then makes to enter your apartment.

"the rule is that vampires gotta ask to come inside your home, not the other way around, right?" she asks as she steps over the threshold to your apartment. you gulp.

"uhm..." you say, backing up until your back hits a wall.

sevika looks down at herself and shrugs. "i look fine. i guess i was right." she says. you squeak, and she smirks up at you. "i've missed you, y'know. got used to your little gifts." she says.

you gulp and blink again, trying to clear the apparition before you. sevika remains.

"today's the fourth day in a row i haven't heard from my secret admirer-- i got worried for you." she says.

you clear your throat and search for words. nothing comes up. eventually, you manage to say something, a shaky, nervous, "h-how?"

sevika grins.

"c'mon. i'm second in command to the eye of zaun, babe, i got eyes and ears everywhere."

"w-when--?" you try again. sevika laughs.

"since your first gift. i knew i felt someone watching me outside my window, i felt like i was going fucking crazy! then you left those cheesy chips, and i realized maybe whoever was watching me wasn't a threat." she says.

you squeak again, and sevika giggles.

"plus, i caught you a couplea times." she says. "you're not as stealthy as you think you are."

you pass out.

when you wake up, sevika's sitting on your couch, your head in her lap, your cat in yours. she smiles down at you. "welcome back." she says. you groan.

"this is humiliating." you mumble as you try to sit up. sevika keeps you pinned to her lap with a hand to your shoulder and you're too weak to fight her off.

"it's cute." she says with a shrug.

"i've been stalking you!" you say. she just laughs again.

"yeah, but you're cute. and harmless. and-- i'm not sure, but i've read a couple vampire romances-- isn't this your freaky way of courting me?" she asks. you groan at the cheesy wording but nod anyways.

"yeah." you mumble. sevika just chuckles.

it's quiet for a few minutes, and then sevika reaches down to grab your hand. "well..." she says. you blink up at her in confusion. "are you gonna court me or what?" she asks. you blink.

"wha-- seriously?!" you ask. she nods and shrugs.

"gimmie your best shot." she says. you smile, the horrible sickness in your body fading as a giddy feeling starts bubbling up in your stomach. you rise from the couch, rushing to your room to grab the letter, then running back into the living room, thrusting the letter into her hands. "i know you like corny love letters-- it's in all your favorite books." you admit shyly as you hand it to her. she grins.

"you read my books?"

"not yours. copies from the library." you say, shrugging. sevika smiles, then opens the letter.

it's quiet as her eyes scan the pages, the same little furrow in her brow coming up that always appears when she reads.

you bite back a gasp. you've never seen it so close-up before. she's so fucking beautiful, you have to clench your hands at your side to keep from reaching out and touching her.

when she's done, she looks up from your letter with tears in her eyes. you gulp.

"are you okay?" you ask. she swipes her eyes and nods.

"y-yeah." she whispers, a little waver in her voice. you melt, sinking back down on the couch beside her and wrapping your arms around her like you've been dying to do for months now.

sevika laughs in your arms, wrapping hers back around you then hissing when she feels how cold you are. you giggle.

sevika pulls away after a moment, her eyes locked on your lips.

"so... tell me about those fangs of yours." she says. you blink.

"w-what about them?" you ask.

"like, are they always descended or can you control it or...?" she asks. you gulp and shrug.

"i can control it." you say. she smiles.

"so, if i was to kiss you right now, you wouldn't slice my lip off by accident?" she asks. you laugh disbelievingly, then you scoot away from her.

"i--i'm sick." you say. she laughs.

"yeah, i gathered." she says, pointing at your wrinkled clothes and the bags under your eyes. "vampire sickness can't transfer to humans though." she says. you scoff.

"how do you know?" you ask. she shrugs and chuckles.

"i don't, i just really want to kiss you."

you gulp, a shaky sigh escaping your lips, before you tentatively lean forward and press your lips against sevika's.

she hums against you, and then she reaches out, grabs you by your pajama shirt, and hauls you into her lap. you squeak against her lips, and she licks into your mouth, moaning against you.

when she pulls away, you gulp at the powerful, fast pounding of her heart that you can hear from beside her.

"woah." you whisper. she smiles. "so... is that a yes?" you ask, referring to your letter. sevika snorts and lets out a bright laugh, and your heart fucking melts.

"definitely a yes, baby." she says, swooping in to kiss you again.

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