xtrashmammalstefx

[xtrashmammalstefx]

Reblogging so I can go on this journey again and again! 🥵❤️

Just In Case (Dr Jack Abbot x FemaleResident!Reader)

Summary: He had given Robby so much shit about Collins. "Really brother? One of your residents?" Then you had put in a request to move to the night shift and Robby had fucking signed off on it.

Warning: all my content is considered 18+ only, smut, age gap unspecified, reader is one of Jacks resident, fluff, smut, angst, happy ending, as always barely proofread or edited plz forgive me

A quick note: I know I promised this forever ago, but I'll be completely honest, this is NOT the story I started out to write! But holy fuck it took over with a mind of it's own and I really love the way it turned out so I hope y'll do too!! also, again, shout-out to the gif creater above because this one's still my fav

ENJOY!

~~~~~

He had given Robby so much shit about Collins. "Really brother? One of your residents?"

Then you had put in a request to move to the night shift and Robby had fucking signed off on it.

Jack liked you from the jump. Smart, witty, a little dark like he was and not afraid to jump into the chaos with no need to know how deep. You had fit right in on his shift and for a long time you were just his best resident. His BEST, fucking resident, because God you were good. Every trauma, every code, every shitty shift you were right there doing the work and it was clear you loved all of it.

Jack had asked Robby one morning, "So, what's the deal? Why'd you let her go? You usually like to keep the star pupils to yourself."

Robby had just made that face at him, that annoying one with the shrug. "Thought I'd make her your problem for awhile."

Then the next night Jack had to split up you and the R4 in the middle of the hub. "What in the actual fuck are you two doing?" His presence had been enough to put some distance between the both of you, but you were pissed and the R4 was not letting it go.

"She walked all over my case."

"Because you were fucking it up! That girl did not have time to wait, and I told you that three times."

"And I told you to stay in your lane, I'm your senior resident."

"You are a dipshit, that was going to kill that girl by lack of action."

"Enough." Jack didn't yell. He didn't need to. He stood, hands clasped behind his back, face hard and waited.

"Dr. Abbot, she has authority issues, and it's interfering with her patient care and everyone elses."

"I don't have an issue with authority," If looks could kill the R4 would have dropped dead. Then you turned that look on him and it didn't have the venom in it, but the fight was there, that unwavering confidence, "I have a problem with misplaced authority."

Jack had held your gaze as you'd said it then nodded. He'd sent you both on your separate ways and excused himself to the bathroom where he took a leak and then stood with his hands braced on the sink as he stared himself down in the mirror. "What the fuck?" He whispered to himself as he rocked side to side and shook his head at his own reflection. He should've been annoyed at you two, not himself, but something about that look you had given him. It was like it had flipped some sort of switch. Like suddenly you weren't just his best resident, you were also…

The bathroom door swung open, "Dr. Abbot, we have a code blue coming in, ETA 5 minutes."

He nodded, "Set up trauma two."

Every shift after that he caught himself thinking things he should not be thinking about his resident. Yes you were his best resident, talented and dedicated, but you were also gorgeous. Not that he had never noticed, but now it was something he couldn't help but pay attention to. In between patients, when you passed by him or stood a little too close, he felt his pulse quicken. He couldn't help but watch you a little closer, the way you were so soft and calm with nervous patients, the way you didn't take shit from the combative ones. The confidence you had in your abilities and the drive you had to be better.

Your eyes. Those beautiful fucking eyes that never shied away from him. Your smile. Not big and bright or soft or sweet. No, the one that drove him fucking crazy? That was the tiny one, the barely there tick of your lips, up to one side before you could fight it back. That one was his favorite, because it felt like he had to earn that one. Like he had done something, just enough, to get you to crack. Like there was something you were trying to keep to yourself and if he said the right thing, did the right thing, you'd show him what it was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a long night. A long week. Jack had gone up for some air and some quiet. He had his back leaned against the railing and hands in his pockets, eyes trained on the horizon.

The access door opened and he furrowed his brow. Robby wasn't working today.

When he looked over his shoulder the last person he had expected to see was you, just standing there with one of your easy smiles. "Need me, you could have called."

You just shrugged as you came closer. "Don't need anything, Day shift is trickling in." You came to lean next to him. Close enough to touch. "You good boss?"

Jack glanced sideways at you. Your hair was falling down, eyes tired, smile careful. He had to fight the urge to lean towards you, close that distance just to touch, even if it was just your shoulder against his. He shook his head, "Just one of those nights. You good?"

You nodded, leaned over the railing carefully to look down, "Do you actually think about it? When you come up here or is it just... a thing you do?"

He's not sure he would have been more surpised if you had slapped him. He looked at you long and hard. When you didn't flinch, didn't shy away, he shrugged. "Depends on the day." Jack cracks a little smirk for you, to ease the tension.

You smile back at him, unphased, as you stood up a little straighter. His eyes track your every move as you lean across the railing.

Jack had been wrong when he thought he couldn't be more surprised if you'd slapped him. Becuase the last thing he would have ever expected was that you would lean across the railing and kiss him.

It wasn't anything crazy. A quick brush of your lips over his. Not long enough. When you didn't pull back all the way he watched you close. Studied you. "Just in case." You shrugged as you finally stepped back.

You were about to turn and leave when he asked, "In case what?"

You gave him another smile, this time with something in your eyes that you didn't try to hide from him as the sun crept up over the skyline. "In case tonight was one of those nights."

It wasn't. It was one of those nights, but not one of THOSE nights. Jack liked that it hadn't been some big thing. Quick and light. He liked that you hadn't hesitated. He liked that if it had been one of those nights, you thought a kiss would have changed something. It changed everything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You know, the park beers is really more of a day shift thing."

You turned to the side and inwardly scolded yourself for not hearing him approach. "No beer." You shrugged but didn't offer up anything else.

Jack took another step closer, "Thinkin' about that kid?" He shrugged his backpack up higher and waited for your response.

You looked him over and even after the night you'd had, you had to fight back a smile because he looked good. This was your favorite version of Dr. Jack Abbot. Cargo pants, hair a mess and he'd pulled his scrub top off at some point and had worked the last couple hours in just atight, black t-shirt. You took a deep breath, "You goin' to tell me I did everything I could?"

He shook his head, "You already know that."

You nodded, "Yep."

"C'mon, I'll give you a ride home."

"Why?" You looked up at him, skeptical.

The grin he gave you washed all that away, "Just in case."

You thought maybe it would be awkward, letting Jack drive you home after what you'd done on the roof four shifts ago. It wasn't. Then when he had pulled up in front of your building, you thought for sure it would be awkward, but it wasn't. He just put the truck in park and tipped his head to catch your eye, "Go get some sleep okay." When you didn't move right away, he gave you a little nod, "I'll see you tomorrow."

You felt sick to your stomach suddenly, like you had been very wrong. "Jack…If I…"

He draped his wrist over the steering wheel and his eyes were soft, "Tomorrows a new day."

"Get that from Robby?" you tried to swallow down the bile in your throat, force a smile.

Jack shrugged, gave you a smirk. "Maybe. I mean it, get some sleep."

You had started to climb out of the truck, but your hand paused on the handle. You were always something of a go big or go home kind of girl. So, you turned back, leaned across the console and didn't give yourself or Jack the chance to think twice. You kissed him again. More than a quick peck this time and the air rushed out of your lungs when his lips moved with yours, slow and steady.

You were about to pull back when you felt the hand that had been draped over the steering wheel cradle the back of your head and keep you there.

When Jack did eventually let you pull away his eyes locked onto yours. "What was that for?"

You whispered, scared to get your hopes up, "Just in case I don't get another chance."

He dropped his head back against the headrest and held your gaze, "If I promise you'll get another chance, will you go upstairs and get some rest?" When you nodded he cracked a little smile, "I'll see you tomorrow."

~~~~~~

Giving you a ride home became a thing, not after every shift but more and more.

It felt like you both just craved that little bit of time alone, together. It wasn't even something seedy or scandalous, he would just... drive you home.

Sometimes you'd kiss him, sometimes he'd reach out for your hand and hold it the whole way to your apartment. At some point it turned into drive thru coffee. He didn't just pull up out front anymore, he'd park in a spot and you would talk.

Jack told you about his wife first. The broken part of him figured; get the rough stuff out of the way first. If you were going to change your mind that would do it, and he'd rather deal with it sooner than later. He told you and you had just held his hand, your thumb working circles over his palm with tears in your eyes. "I don't have the words Jack, God I wish I did..."

He didn't need you to have the words. The look in your eyes unwavering and the grip on his hand was enough. He had just shaken his head, throat still hoarse and had lifted the back of your hands to his lips. That was enough.

He told you about his leg. You never flinched once and this time it was him that stroked his thumb over your palm. Back and forth, where they rested together on the console. You had just leaned forward, held his gaze and told him it made him more of a man.

He told you about his PTSD, explained his little visits to the roof, told you about his therapist. You said you were proud of him, and leaned over to kiss him and steal the last bagel bite out of his lap. Jack had grinned, watched the way your face lit up to see it, even if your eyes were a little misty. "I want to tell him about you..." Jack waited, watched you like his life depended on it. Because, even then he knew this couldn't be casual, not for him, and if it was real he was going to do it right.

You had laughed and he panicked for half a second before you leaned in to kiss him again. "You mean, we've been working together this long and you haven't already complained about me to your therapist?"

He laughed, and God it felt like a gulp of air. He sank his hand into your hair and slammed your mouth to his. Kissed you like you'd never been kissed before.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The morning you had whispered, "Come upstairs?" He'd thought he might combust then and there. He had searched your eyes. Those gorgeous fucking eyes that never wavered under his. He'd never forget the pretty way you bit your lip, or the way your eyes flashed with something he hadn't seen yet when he gave you one more quick kiss and turned off his truck.

Any lingering thought or rationalization that you could be something casual went out the fucking window the moment you let him press you up against the inside of your apartment door and kiss you the way he'd been wanting to for months.

The way you gasped and moaned so pretty for him when he pinned your wrists over your head with one hand and slipped the other inside your scrub pants. "Jesus Christ sweetheart..." He murmured into your ear when he felt how hot and wet you were for him.

"Jack," Your eyes fluttered closed as he eased the first, thick finger inside you, "Shit." You fidgeted, tried to chase his hand with your hips, but you didn't fight his hold on your wrists or the way he pressed you into the hard surface. You groaned, showed your teeth in something between a smile and a snarl as he gave you a second finger, but did not change his rythym.

He kept his strokes slow, steady, deep. Kissed every part of you he could reach at this angle. Your neck, the hollow of your throat the shell of your ear, before always returning to your mouth. "Feel good?"

You nodded, frantic, gave him an airy, 'Mhmm."

"Yeah?" He mouthed at the soft spot just below your ear as he finally sped up his movements and felt the way your pussy quivered and clenched around his fingers. Jack smiled as he moved up to rest his forhead against yours, "Yeah..." He answered himself as he studied your face, felt the warm puffs of air as you panted and gasped, his palm resting over your clit as he drove his fingers deeper.

"Oh shit, shit," Your words cut off with a groan as he pressed against the little bundle of nerves harder.

"Yeah?" He licked his lips and fought back a smirk as he kissed you softly, pulled his fingers out and circled them over your clit. Firmer, faster. "Going to cum for me already, aren't you sweetheart?"

"Yeah." You chased after his kiss like you needed it to breathe, your weight sinking into his hand begging for more.

Eyes locked on yours, foreheads together he gave you a little nod, "Yeah, go ahead," He sped up the circling of his fingers until both of you were breathing heavy, "Go ahead, sweetheart, go ahead."

When your eyes fluttered and rolled back Jack didn't stop, only pressed you harder into the door and kissed you in the most unholy way as you came apart for him.

Slowly as you can back down he eased off the pressure of his fingers, slipped them back inside of you and relished in the little convulsions he felt as he gave you long, slow, steady strokes. He teased at your lips, kissing and nipping until you giggled and he finally released your hands from above your head. "Good girl." He whispered as he gave you a final kiss and pulled back.

The look in your eyes told him this probably couldn't be casual for you either.

You laughed when he ducked, lifted you up by the thighs and carried you towards your bedroom.

"Don't laugh, I'm not that old." He chuckled with you into the hollow of your throat. A chuckle that turned into a groan when you carded your fingers into his already messy curls and tugged.

He had laid you down on the bed and stripped you naked as fast as possible. Desperate to get his hands, his mouth on every inch of you until you whined his name and fisted your hand in the back of his scrub top.

Jack smiled against your hip, "What?"

"Off."

"What?" He asked again as he sucked a little bruise into the smooth skin before him.

You groaned, half annoyed and half giddy, and shoved at him until he looked you in the eyes, "Take your fucking shirt off."

He chuckled, gave you a grin and rose up to his knees so he could reach behind him and pull his scrub top and undershirt off in one go. Jack couldn't help but take that half a second, to watch you hum happily and chew on your lip, to let it stroke his ego, before he buried his face between your legs.

~~~~~~

He had put it off as long as he could, shoved the thought aside and focused all of his attention on you. But, eventually, you had pulled and clawed at him until he crawled over you to cover your body with his and kiss you properly again. Jack let you take some of his weight as he kissed you, soaked in the warmth and the feel of you under him.

He knew he'd have to take his pants off, that the prosthesis would be some sort of jarring reminder and this would all be over.

He focused on your hands and how fucking good if felt as you stroked up the muscles of his back, hooked your fingers over his shoulders and pulled him closer. The way your fingertips skimmed over his arms, squeezing his biceps and smiling under his kisses like you enjoyed the way he felt. It had almost been involuntary. The jerk of his hips when you had skated your nails low over his sides, too low, too close to the waistband of his boxers where the band peeked up over the top of his pants. The way he had rolled his hips against yours and gave you a hint of just how badly he wanted you.

You made that happy little humming sound again and stroked your hands up over his back and down again. FIngertips leaving little divots under them as they moved. "Jack," Your voice was soft, airy and tight, "Am I gonna have to tell you to take your pants off too?" You fought for his eye contact and for the first time he couldn't give it to you.

Jack buried his face in your neck and kissed over your pulse, whispered his answer there instead, "Sweetheart," He breathed deep and Jesus you smelled like sex and sweat and soap and everything good in this world. "Only way this really works, is if I take the leg off." He waited. Expected the worst.

When you tugged on his hair he caved, lifted his head and looked you in the eye. You held his gaze and opened your eyes wide like you were about to make a point and wanted it to land, "Then take the fucking leg off," You cracked a smile, "Or I'm going to do it, and I have no clue how it works so..."

Jack fucking loved you. He knew he loved you, because he had said the first thing that came to mind, "Want me to show you?" With a chuckle and a nod you kissed him and with no hesitation answered, "Yeah, kinda."

So, as awkward and unsexy as it was, he showed you.

He showed you how the mechanism worked, grinned at you and shook his head as you tried to pull it off the first time. He'd turned an embarrassing shade of pink when he'd warned you, "It's not going to smell good. You know that right?"

You had scoffed, rolled your eyes at him. "I'm a doctor. I'm sure I can handle it."

Jack couldn't remember the last time he had laughed this hard. Especially not in bed, with a sexy, young woman, where ten minutes ago the only thing on his mind had been fucking your brains out. Now, you were collapsed on his chest and cackling uncontrollably with his prosthetic leg in one hand dangling off the side of the bed. All he could do was cradle the back of your head and try to catch his breath, because even as you were laughing, you were peppering kisses over his chest and he swore that if this didn't scare you away he would never let you go.

When you caught your breath and sat up, you set his prosthesis down by the nightstand and leaned in to give him a quick kiss. "Now, take your pants off."

His eyes followed you as you crawled off the bed and walked naked to the bathroom. He tried to fight down the nerves as he did shuck his other shoe, sock and his scrub pants off, then pushed himself up to lean against your headboard. He listened to a cupboard open and close, water run. When you reentered the room and tossed a bath towel on the bed and crawled back to him with a warm, soapy rag in your hand he furrowed his brow.

"I fucking dare you to make one sponge bath joke. I swear to God." You didn't hesitate as you knelt in front of him and began to run the rag over what remained of his lower leg. Your fingers massaging the aching muscles as you went.

All Jack could do was shake his head side to side as he let his eyes fall closed and his body sink deeper into your pillows.

~~~~~

Jack hadn't meant to zone out, but Christ it had felt too good. Your soft, capable hands working over the tension in his leg after a long shift. The relief it brought, physical and mental, was unbelievable. He barely noticed you had stopped until you had moved to straddle his lap and kiss up the side of his neck.

"Fall asleep on me?"

He chuckled, "Almost." and wrapped his arms around your waist to drag you closer.

"Feel good?" You copied his question from earlier, whispered it against throat.

"Too fucking good." His cock had softened some from the relaxation, but when he pulled you down to settle against him fully he could feel himself harden by the second. "You're too fucking good for me." He caressed from your knees, over your thighs, up your waist and ribcage, until his fingers traced over the line of your arms where they had wrapped around his neck.

"Don't say that." You kissed him, deep, and rolled your hips over him. Whined a little that his boxer briefs still kept you seperated from what you both wanted. The whine turned into a squeal as he flipped you over without warning, Put you on your back like you had started.

Jack hovered over you braced on strong arms. "You still want this?" He rocked his hips into yours and searched your eyes. He could see that you knew what he meant. Not just this, not just the moment, not just sex. Him. HIs past, his baggage, all the complications that a relationship with your attending would bring.

"Yes. All of it." You looked him in the eye and smiled. Cute and sweet. Drastically at odds with the way your hands were shoving his underwear down over his hips.

Then he watched those pretty eyes roll back in your head, because he wasn't going to waste another second not knowing what it felt like to be inside you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack had panicked the first time he'd said he loved you.

He'd thought it from the start, but it had always felt to soon, too real, too say it out loud. To risk it.

Then he had woken up late one afternoon, after a restless few hours of sleep and you weren't in bed beside him. His mind, already primed for the worst case scenario after a long week, worried that you'd finally had enough. That he'd scared you away and you'd snuck off while he was asleep but, then he'd found you in the kitchen.

He paused at the corner and breathed deep as he watched you. Your back turned to him, in some t-shirt of his you'd dug out of a drawer to sleep in, hair tosseled from sleep. You were glaring at the coffee maker, arms crossed and swaying side to side, as if you could force the machine into expedience. He could feel the anxiety seep out of him as he watched you. Made his way to you.

"Where are your crutches?" Was how you greeted him, your voice rough and exhausted like him.

Jack just slid his arms around you waist and kissed the back of your head. Relished the feel of you sinking more of your weight back into him. "Bedroom." He shifted to place a kiss closer to your neck.

"Ja-ack"

"Wha-at?" He copied your tone and squeezed you tighter. He liked that you worried. With one hand he swept your hair to the side so he could kiss your neck and chuckled against it when you groaned. Annoyed, not aroused. "Been gettin' around just fine for over a decade baby."

You had grumbled, rolled your eyes, but leaned into him and smoothed your hands over his forearms, your thumbs traced the furrows in the muscle. "I know."

The coffee maker beeped, but you made no move to reach for a cup. Jack liked that you worried. He liked that you took up space in his home, in his life. He liked that you'd taken over half his bathroom, that his sheets smelled like you, that your car had a spot in his garage. He liked that you'd started teasing him about trying to get out of your lease as much time as you spent at his house. Hell, he'd pay off your fucking lease if it meant he could have you here, with him, all the time.

He wrapped his arms around you impossibly tighter and squeezed, smiled at the content little hum you let you and the way your head dropped back against his shoulder. His lips pressed against your temple, barely a kiss, "I love you."

There was no shocked expression on your face, no teary eyes, or fumbling words. Just that little smile, that ticked up in one corner, the one that he'd loved from the start. "I've been patiently waiting, but you were starting to make me nervous." You stood up and turned around in his arms. Smile wider as you wrapped your arms around his neck and your eyes flickered when he tightened his grip on your waist again. Locked you against him, arms flexing the way you always liked. Your lips brushed his briefly and then you pulled back to look him in the eye, "I love you too."

Saying it, finally, felt amazing. Like a weight off of his chest.

Hearing you say it, knowing that you meant it... felt like CPR, something bringing a piece of him back to life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two of you had mismatched shifts all week because you had covered some days for Cassie while she had court. So, if you saw eachother it was only in passing, at home or at the hospital. This would be your last shift on days before a weekend off and you would be back on nights, with Jack. Where you belonged.

Jack caught a glimpse of you as he walked in, but continued towards the hub where Robby was already packing up his bag like he was in a hurry.

"Hey brother, sorry but I got a thing, I got to run." Robby picked up his bag and met Jack at the corner of the station. "Your girl is goin' to do the handoff." He gave his friend a smug look as he held his fist out.

Jack scoffed, gave Robby the first bump, but gave him a shove with it. "Don't do that, and don't act like I don't know what your 'thing' is." Jack stared him down, "Let me know how it goes."

Robby nodded, "Yeah, I will. Have a good night man."

Lena and Dana looked up at Jack in unison as he dropped his bag into the chair and together they said, "She's in fifteen."

Jack scowled at the two of them, "Why are you all like this?"

Lena just chuckled and ducked out to get to work. Dana grabbed her jacket and wrapped her hand around Jacks arm, "Just a heads up, someone, I won't name names, has been hounding her all day. Playin' twenty questions about Dr. Abbot, so… she might be a little salty."

With a deep breath he shook his head and draped his stethoscope around his neck.

Dana chuckled, "She doesn't know… so, it's harmless. Just watch your step with your girl. she's had a long one." She grabbed her bag and paused as she moved to step around him, "For what it's worth, the sooner you start wearing a wedding around here again the better for all of us I think." She gave him a wink.

Jack leaned down just enough they were eye to eye. "Dana… go home."

She gave him a smile and a wink, smiled a little wider when his scowl cracked, "Fifteen."

Which is exactly where he found you, right outside the room typing on one of the portable stations.

Work had always been work and honestly he loved you even more for that, because there was something sexy about the fact that you had the self control to keep home and work seperate. Most of the time. You were still his best resident, by far, and now his senior resident. It was fun for him to see you thrive with that responsibility. It was also fun for him to occasionally toe that line, get that little rise out of you that he'd pay for later.

Today, he felt like pushing that boundary. So, he took a quick glance around before he stepped up close, bumped your shoulder with his and tipped his head to whisper.

"Think carefully about what you're about to say, Dr. Abbot."

He bit back a smirk, definitly feisty tonight. "Ready to come back to nights?" He leaned a little closer than necessary and dropped his voice, "Where you belong."

You continued to type, never even looked at him, "What's it worth to you?"

"How about you finish up here, go get some rest, and I'll show you when I get home?"

That got you a little, he could tell by the way you bit the inside of your cheek and a little color appeared on your neck.

Jack bumped your shoulder with his again as he turned to leave, "Come on," His voice back to normal, "GIve me the rundown so we can get you out of here."

~~~~~

When he got home he heard his police scanner going and smirked to himself. You had given him shit about it at first, but now you used it like a white noise machine.

He moved quietly through the house until he found you asleep on the couch in the living room in your comfy clothes. Jack knew that meant you had tried to stay up as late as possible, get your sleep schedule back on track. He leaned his right knee on the couch next to you and braced his hands on either side of you, one against the back of the couch the other on the cushion. Carefully he leaned in and kissed your cheek, "Hey sweetheart." Something in him loved that you didn't flinch, didn't jump awake, only grumbled slightly and then smirked as you awoke.

"Hey." Your voice was raspy with sleep and Jack couldn't help but move to kiss the side of your neck. You hummed and shifted to your back as you cracked your eyes open, "How was your night?"

Lips never leaving your neck he gave a simple answer, "Fine." His kisses moved, higher up towards the hinge of your jaw, "Ready to have my best girl back."

You chuckled, stretched under him and let your head roll to one side to give him more access, "Oh yeah?"

"Mhmm." his kisses became more and more involved, mouthing and sucking at your neck until he left a mark.

Wide awake under his attentions your eyes focused, "Ugh, no fair."

Jack chuckled as he pushed himself up, hovering over you at arms length. "What's not fair?"

Shifting to get comfortable you pouted, unconciously letting your legs fall open for him, as you tugged at the front of his tight, dark t-shirt. "I missed a sexy Dr Abbot night."

He couldn't help the wide smile as he shook his head, still not fully comprehending what it was about wearing cargo pants and a Tshirt instead of scrubs that did it for you. Jack was, however, man enough to admit that you liking it did something for him. "Sexy Dr Abbot night huh?" He shifted his weight, hIs left hand settling on the strip of skin that appeared just above your waistband as your shirt rode up.

You rolled your eyes but smiled, tugged on the shirt again, "Mhmm."

Jack caved, still smiling as he moved to lay down over the top of you, his smile widening as your hands moved under the t-shirt and stroked over his back, "Did you miss your sexy Dr. Abbot?" He teased as he kissed you, slipped his knee between your legs and pressed it against your core as he settled into you.

A little groan escaped between chuckles as your fingers dug into the muscles of his back, on either side of his spine. "Stop it."

"You're the one that said it." Jack chuckled with you as he shifted his weight slightly, drug his right hand the length of your body. From your throat, over a breast where he paused for a moment, palming it through your shirt in time with the way his tongue slid against yours. Then your hips began to move, of their own accord, grinding against his thigh ellictiing a moan, your lips separating from his as you threw your head back.

"Mhmm," Jack murmerd into your exposed throat, "Sure seems like you missed me." He smiled against your pulse as your hands scrambled with the bottom of his shirt. He let you drag it up over his head and then before you could pull him back into a kiss he peeled your bottoms off. Taking his time to toss them aside and then slowly caress his way from the arch of your foot, over the back of your knee and higher. "God you are gorgeous." His grip on you changed, hardened as he moved back over you. "Tell me you missed me baby." He mumbled into your mouth, groaning as he felt your hands move to unbotton his pants.

"You know I did." You smiled, nipped his top lip and watched him as your fingers wrapped around his cock.

"Oh, fuck..." His forehead dropped to yours, eyes closed and breath coming out in warm pants. "Fuck." He repeated as you stroked him, hand firm and confident, from base to tip and back. The muscles in his arms bulged and flexed as he held himself over you, fists clenching and unchlenching against the couch cushion as his cock hardened to your touch. "Baby..."

"What did you say earlier? Something you were going to show me?" You giggled, closed the short distance to brush your lips over his.

Jack smiled, ducked his head to kiss you properly and moved your hand aside so he could shove his pants and boxers down. Just far enough for him to enter you without preamble. Guiding his now achingly hard cock where it belonged. "God you feel too good sweetheart." He breathed the words into your mouth as he bottomed out, lowered the rest of his weight into you. "Too good."

Your whole body trembled underneath him as you moved to wrap your arms around his neck and keep him as close as possible. You dug your fingers into his hair, into the muscles of his shoulders and back, your legs wrapped around his hips as they moved against yours. "Jack..."

"Yeah baby?" Jack asked as he dropped a hand to your thigh, thick fingers digging into your flesh as he held you closer, fucked you just a little harder. "What's wrong?"

You let out a half chuckle half groan, your nails digging into the back of his shoulder blade, "Absolutely nothing." Your chuckle turned into something like a breathy giggle as he rewarded you with a particularly deep thrust. "Just, shit," you writhed under him as he moved the hand at your thigh between your bodies. His thumb working slow, teasing circles over your clit in time with his thrusts. "Just, you don't wanna take your prostthetic off?"

He smirked against your clavicle as he mouthed his way across to the opposite side of your neck. "Don't need to be comfortable right now baby," He picked up his pace, his thrusts and his thumb over your clit, moved harder, faster, "I need to feel you cum for me." Jack wasn't taking it slow after that, and the sounds you were making for him only motivated him to fuck you harder, faster, like he hadn't had you in a month not just a week. "So be a good girl and cum for me," The hand not playing with you slid under the back of your neck, grabbing it from behind, cradling you and applying pressure in a way that had your eyes rolling back and your back arching up off the couch. Lips against your ear, his own breathing ragged, "Need to feel it baby."

"So close, i'm so close, please, shit, Jack, I'm so close." You scrambled, tried everything in your power to drag him into you.

Jack just grinned, "I know, I know." He dropped a kiss against the shell of your ear, "Trust me," His voice was strained but his tone still steady, still soft and clinging to control. "You know I'm gonna take care of you baby, you know." When you nodded enthustically his grin widened, "Take a deep breath." When you didn't respond, he slowed his thrusts down, short and shallow, and when you whined, jack repeated himself, "Breathe. Relax and breathe."

As soon as you shuddered underneath him and took a long, deep breath, eyes slipping closed as you tried to do as he said, Jack whispered, "Good girl." HIs thumb stroked up the line of your carotid once and then settled over it, applied the perfect amount of pressure that made your head swim.

"Oh fuck...." Your mouth hung open and you moaned out his name.

Slowly Jack picked up his pace again, "Another deep breath baby."

You sucked in the air through your nose and moaned because you knew what came next. Because there was a timer running in Jacks head from the moment his thumb pressed down, and once that timer started there was no more teasing or playing, only fucking you as hard and as fast as he could. The whole time murmering every dirty thought that had ever crossed his mind. How you were his good girl, his best girl, all the depraved things he wanted to do to you, how you took his cock so well, and felt so fucking good. How you moaned his name so pretty, how he wanted to fucking ruin you, fill you up and never let you go.

When that timer in his head hit zero, he'd lift his thumb, let the blood rush back to your head and drive his cock into you as hard and as fast as he could, rubbing your clit furiously until you would shatter.

Your nails would dig into his back and you'd gasp for air, and for more. Then he'd snap, his ears would ring with your highpitched whines and his back would ache and he would empty himself inside of you. His hips never stopping until his vision cleared and he could feel the scratch of your fingertips through his hair, the hammering of your heart against his own.

"Jesus Christ," You whispered it, a sexy, satisfied giggle behind it, "I still don't understand how..." You paused for a deep breath and your pussy shuddered around him, "It happens so fast when you do that." You smile as he mouths at the side of your neck.

"Which is why," He tips your face to his so he can kiss you properly before he manhandles you around, swapping places with you so he's on his back and your draped over top of him, "I only do it when I know i'm not going to fucking last." He laughs at himself, drags you down into a vulgar kiss as he reached down to shift your hips and settle you properly. His softening dick still inside you and mess between you.

Jack laid there for a moment and closed his eyes, listened to you breathing slow to match his, a wave of comfort washed over him as he wrapped his arms around you and held you close. You settled into his grasp and hummed, a happy little sound in the back of your throat as you curled around him. Both of you half naked and spent on his living room couch. He smiled, kissed the top of your head, nowhere else he'd rather be in in that moment than right there.

~~~~~~~

His fingertips stroked slowly over your back, under your shirt, when you break the post-coital silence. "Can we talk about something?"

Swallowing down the fear rapidly rising in his throat Jack nods and kisses the top of your head, "What's up?"

"My residency is almost over."

He nods, lays the hand flat and wide over the small of your back like his subconcious is trying to keep you where he felt you belonged. "Thought about what you're going to do?"

"That's sort of what I want to talk to you about." You sit up and the both of you make a face at the way your bodies shifted together. You watch as Jack settles a hand on your thigh and you reach for the other. You take his hand in both of yours and started to massage away the stiffness you knew would be there after a long shift. "There's no guarantee I get the open attending spot here, and if I don't… I just… I guess I just want to know what you think I should do."

Jack took a deep breath and studied your face intently, held your gaze. "I'm hesitant to tell you what I think because, I don't think I can be impartial, not really. I want you to make the best decision for yourself and not let me… being selfish… affect your decision."

That made you take a moment, consider as you watched him. Your thumbs still moved in soothing circles over the knuckles and palm of his hand. "I'm not asking you to be impartial. I'm asking you, someone whose opinion matters to me deeply, to discuss a very important decision I might have to make."

It hits him in the gut to hear you say that, because he knows what he wants. He knows he could tell you. He doesn't know with certainty what you want though. "Okay, well, as your attending. You are an incredibly talented and valuable emergency physician and there's plenty of hospitals that would fight to have you. I think we would be idiots to not fight to keep you here, because you are good, you're steady and fast and you're a leader, but also because we have poured a shit ton of time and resources into developing you. It would be irresponsible to let you go, but you could go anywhere you wanted and be extremely successful."

You had to fight back tears at his praise and he must have seen it because Jack stroked his hand over your thigh with a little extra pressure and a tight grin.

"As the man that loves you…because God I fucking love you and I love working with you, but either way that's going to change soon, I want you here with me. Even if that means something other than the Pitt. And… I acknowledge, as much as it sucks, that might not be what's best for you, or even be what you want."

You're chewing on your lip hard, trying to keep your own emotions in check. You love Jack, but he is also your mentor and you value his opinion and he is honestly the only one you could imagine having this conversation with. "I don't want to go anywhere else, I want to stay where I am… I'm just terrified I … What if I put in for the open spot at PTMC and don't get it?"

Jack gives you the most encouraging smile he can without giving himself away and moves to sit up. Taking you with him as he twists around to sit on the couch properly and wrap his arms around you. "Sweetheart that's fine, if you don't work for us you'll go somewhere else. There's six trauma centers in Pittsburgh, there's 52 in the state. Hell there's over 200 level ones in the country and baby you could run any of them. I know you could." He fidgets for a moment and seems to look everywhere but you before he can get locked in. He looks you in the eye, "If you want my opinion you could go anywhere, but I want you here. I just don't want to be the reason you settle for less."

Your breath caught in your throat, "Jack…"

He can't help the thought that he's going to have to talk to his therapist about the look on your face, the weight in his chest as he sits with you on his lap, dick still just a little hard inside you, the mess you made together sticky between you and every fiber of his being is fighting the urge to beg you to stay because he needs you.

"On what planet is being here with you considered less? Don't say that." You kiss him hard, then pull back, "If I apply for the slot… they're going to look sideways at both of us."

"Let 'em. Baby, that's goin' to come down on me not you."

You scoff, "We both know it doesn't work that way. If they want to raise hell about me being in a relationship with my attending that shit could follow me."

Jack hates that that's true, even if it happens in every fucking teaching hospital in the country. "To be fair, I'm tenured and I make enough for both of us. Worse comes to worse. Fuck 'em."

"Not helpful." You smack him on the chest, but chuckle despite the tension.

He shrugs, "There's ways to go about it, so maybe we haven't made it obvious, but not like we've been keeping it a state secret either, and it's not some abuse of power, hasn't affected either of our performance. I'm still going to be with you when you're an attending, or hell, when you're the chief for that matter. If i'm still around that long. Honestly… if you want to be shady about it between me and Shen, Robby is the chief, I'm willing to bet we can rig it in your favor."

"Also not helpful!" You kiss him though, "I do find it oddly attractive that you're so willing to bend the rules though."

"I know you do." He kissed you back. "Promise to play by the rules for a change."

You smile, "So, what If I told you I wanted to stay here after my residency? What if I want the attending spot at the Pitt and to stay with you?"

Jack shook his head, squeezed you tighter, "Don't ask me baby, tell me. Is that what you want?"

"I want you. If I can have you and the Pitt, perfect. If not, I'd work anywhere if it means we are together." You kiss him again, trying to get your point across, "That doesn't feel like settling to me Jack. Not even close."

How he felt in that moment was something he couldn't name, because no matter how ecstatic it makes him to hear you say you want him a piece of him is drowning in the guilt that you could be giving up something so much better.

You run your hands over his bare chest, his shoulders and then slide them up the side of his neck to hold him in place. "Is that… Is that okay?"

Like so many times before Jack shoves that doubt aside and figures, fuck it. He thinks about that first fleeting kiss on the roof, the one in his truck, all the rides home, the coffee and conversations, the morning you had asked him to come upstairs. All the times you were the one that took that leap of faith, because he couldn't. He'd been trying not to jump for years.

He kissed you, long and slow as he thinks and then whispers against your lips. "Sweetheart," He kisses you again, "Do me a favor and go grab my bag?"

You look confused, rightfully so, but smirk and duck your head to nip at the meat of one of his pecs. "You know, I'm not supposed to be able to walk after you fuck me like that."

Jack groans and feels fucking ancient, but can't help the need to swat you on the ass and give you a little push, "Love to watch you try though."

Because, yeah, you are still a little unsteady and you both trembled as you had raised up and his semi hard dick had slipped out of you. He watched you walk out of the living room and tucked himself back into his boxers before he did up the fly of his pants. The conversation you were about to have was one he couldn't have with his dick inside you, no matter how good it felt.

When you came back his eyes drank you in, shirt askew and hair a mess, a sheen between your legs that made the blood in his veins rush south again.

"Here you go." You hold out the camo backpack as you round the end of the couch.

"Need you to grab something for me, out of the liner pocket on the inside." He smirked at the way you arch your brow at him, but still come back to sit on his lap. He holds his breath as you set the bag on the couch next to you and pulled at the zipper. Jack had to try not to stare at the patch velcroed to the front. Abbot. He lets his hands settle on your thighs while he waits, thumb stroking over your femoral artery.

"What exactly am I…"

"You'll know." He cuts you off.

You stop.

He feels your heart rate skyrocket under his thumb, every muscle in your body goes rigid and he watches as your eyes blink rapidly like you're trying to clear your vision. "That's what I want sweetheart."

Your eyes are the only part of you that moves. They jump from what you found in the pocket, to his face and back. "How long have you had this?" Because what you're holding, it's not something bought on a whim.

Jack can't help but laugh at himself, "Awhile." Is all he'll tell you right now. He fights for your eye contact, but for one of the only times he can remember, it's like you can't quite hold it. Your eyes keep flicking to him and away again.

"Why?"

"Just in case."

You look at him then, really look at him, and don't look away. Give him that eye contact he craves and he sucks in air like he can breath again, head above water for just a moment. You smirk at hearing him repeat your own words back to you from so long ago. Your voice shakes, "Just in case what?"

He smirks right back at you as he moves the backpack out of the way with one hand and then holds it out, palm up. You carefully put what you had found in his hand, unopened, because the simple presence of the small, shiny, sleek, perfectly square, black box had told you everything you needed to know. Jack makes sure to brush your fingers with his as he takes the box from you and pops it open. "Just in case you ever decided to go back to dayshift, thought I might have to bribe you."

You choke out a laugh and Jack smiles, but his throat is dry and the way you look like you're about to cry really isn't helping.

He repeats himself as he pulls out the ring, rolls it carefully between his thumb and forefiner, "This is what I want sweetheart. Then he chokes out a laugh of his own, "I don't give a shit where you work baby, wherever you want. Only thing I give a fuck about is that they call you Dr. Abbot." He cracks a smile when you laugh with him and he can feel you relax, your weight sinking into him as you lean in to kiss him. Clumsy and sloppy and with a smile.

"You're fucking ego sometimes."

"You can hyphenate if you want."

"Oh, I can, can I? So generous."

Every word between you is murmured between kisses. He diesn't have to hear you say it, he knows the answer.

He doesn't have to tell you he's had the ring your entire fourth year of residency. Just waiting for you to say you wanted to stay.

You're really shaking when he slips the ring on your finger and of course it fits perfectly and of course it's exactly what you would have picked, because it's Jack. Becasuse this has never been casual for either of you, not for one single moment.

You pull back from kissing him with a laugh and an evil grin, "You suppose I'd be more or less likely to get the attending position with your last name?"

Jack laughs with you and drags your hips closer, because as soon as this conversation is finished he's taking you to bed and doing terrible, filthy things to you the rest of the weekend. "Look me in the eye and tell me this is really what you want baby."

He can feel the metal of the ring on your finger as your hand presses against his jaw, "This is what I want Jack. This is exactly what I want."

Your noses bump together as he kisses you and nods, "Have something else I need to tell you then." He kissed you again, before you can panic. "You don't need to apply for the attending position."

You put some distance between you and for the first time in a long time Jack has to gently stop you, guide you away from putting too much pressure on his right knee at this angle. You murmur a little, "Sorry." as you scoot closer. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Arms locked tight around you Jack keeps a straight face, tells you something he's wanted to tell you since you started this conversation. "It's not going to come down to whether you get the job or not. Robby already tagged you for it."

You blink, "What?"

Jack rubbed his hands over your thighs, putting in the pressure and the warmth to keep you grounded, "It's going to come down to whether you want the job or not, because they're going to offer it to you once you complete your residency."

"You're fucking with me right now."

He chuckles, "I am not fucking with you right now. It's like I told you; we'd be stupid to let you go anywhere else."

"What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" He's almost laughing outright now, "They asked us for our recommendations, every single one of us said you. Obviously I'm not supposed to tell you, but…"

"So you were just letting me stress out about all of this!? About the fact that I might lose you, because I wasn't going to get the job, that I was going to have to leave and, and move to the opposite side of the country or something!"

"I was trying to stay out if it. In case being here isn't what you wanted." He left the 'if I wasn't what you wanted' out of it.

"Jack!, I mean Jesus, c'mon! We've been together for almost two fucking years. How would you even begin to think this isn't what I wanted!?" You're yelling at him, but you're laughing and crying and have a death grip on the back of his neck.

Jack takes a deep breath and deescalates. "My therapist says I plan for the worst case scenario as a coping mechanism, as a way to try and protect myself from the pain of unforseen loss."

Taking his lead you take a deep breath, lower your tone. "Yeah, he also says it's one thing to be prepared for emergencies and another to try and plan for the worst possible outcome to a conversation, that you haven't even initated, therefore running the risk of 'planning' that worst case outcome into existence." You scowl at him.

Sometimes he hates that you're so in tune, so invested and involved in his mental health, because it's annoying to hear his therapist come out of your mouth. He smirks though, because he also loves it a little and can't imagine anyone else holding him accountable the way you do.

"Since you brought your therapist into it, have you told him you've been carrying around my engagement ring in your backpack next to a three day supply of MREs?"

He doesn't answer you because you know he hasn't, you're just making a point. Jack smirks and smooths his hands up your back, "Sure you wanna marry me?" His chest hurts at the way you light up as he watches your eyes flick back to the ring he slipped on your finger.

"Very sure." You looked him in the eye like you were daring him to doubt you and gave him that little smirk. The one that had started this all, where it tipped up to one side like you were trying not to show him something.

Jack waited for you to lean in and kiss him, waited for your fingers to comb into his curls and your tongue to chase after his, and then he grabbed you tight and pushed to his feet. Chuckling at the way you still squeaked and giggled, no matter how many times he's carried you to bed that way. Or to the couch, the shower, the nearest wall or flat surface.

Later, when you're both exhausted and the blackout curtains are keeping the afternoon sun at bay, you're laying beside him with your head on his shoulder, one leg draped over his and your left hand on his chest. Neither of you can stop staring at the faint glint that is the ring in the dim light of the room.

"Are you sure?"

Jack chuckles, presses a kiss to the top of your head and murmers, "How many times you going to ask me that?"

You bite your lip and turn your face into his neck, "Just making sure."

He closes his eyes when he feels you trace his collar bone with your lips and he moves to cradle the back of her head, holding you close. Jack thinks again about those first two kisses, about the way you had explained yourself. 'Just in case.' He tips your head back so he can kiss you, deep and with emotion he still can't quite process out loud. "I'm sure sweetheart." He kissed you again.

There was something extremely appropriate about the phrase, 'just in case.' he thought and for the rest of his life, every time he kissed you, touched you, told you he loved you, in the back of his mind he'd think. 'Just in case.' Because he knew better than anyone, there was no way to know what time would be the last.

"Hey," Your voice was soft, half asleep when your hand rested against his jaw to pull him out of his thoughts, "I love you." You said it like you knew where his thoughts had gone.

Jack kissed you, holding you close like he'd never let you go. "Love you too."

~~~ The End~~~

[xtrashmammalstefx]

No lie I actually feel fucked out just from reading and god dammit if it didn't give me an arm fetish. Not To mention that ending had me damn near screaming: FUCKING YES PLEASE! 🥵

𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐞 — 𝐚.𝐜.

summary: you take care of lena, clean up around the house, and always leave dinner for him when he gets home late. and among constant and never-ending change, you are andrew's northern star.

pairing: andrew cody x babysitter!reader

word count: 13.3k

warnings: read carefully! age-gap dynamics, reader is said to have recently graduated college, i basically ignore anything from the show that wouldn't make sense in my perfect little world. smut—arm humping, oral sex, penetration, the tiniest bit of breeding if you squint real hard.

author's note: and here she is. also known as shea wants to write about doing things to pope's arms.

you used to complain if someone called you their nanny. you’re just a babysitter. this would not—could not—be your full time job. it’s just so demanding. you love the kids you take care of but the idea of saying that you’re a nanny makes it a little more real. like you wouldn’t be able to get out of this, despite how hard you’re trying.

you just don’t want to be a babysitter forever. 

but the first time mister cody introduces you as lena’s nanny, you don’t think you mind it all that much. 

babysitters are temporary—girls in high school looking for money to pay for coffee and nail appointments, covering date-nights and overtime at the office.

nannies are permanent—it’s a career. you’re responsible for the kid pretty much twenty-four hours a day. kids with nannies are rich, mom and dad too busy at work to be at home. from the little you deduced, nannies buy groceries and make three meals. they go to doctor’s appointments and organize play-dates with other nannies. 

you do some of those things for lena. her uncle tries to take her and pick her up from school when he can, and when he calls to tell you that he won’t be able to make it every now and then, he sounds so sorry about it, you don’t know what you can do to reassure him that it’s okay. lena’s young, she doesn’t care about stuff like that so deeply. and she likes you, which helps matters a lot.

you had finished the last few classes you needed to graduate a couple months ago. before that, you’d have to tell mister cody no, i’m sorry occasionally, something that you really didn’t like doing. he seemed like he had enough going on without the babysitter cancelling.

and besides, after you had told him that your classes were done, you were supposed to tell him that you would be looking for a real job, something with your degree, that he should start looking for a real nanny for lena. you were supposed to politely, yet firmly allude to how you’d been scrambling with classes, finishing assignments in the car in between picking up his niece and after she’d fallen asleep at night. how you missed an important lecture because the pediatrician’s office was running behind an hour and lena’s grandmother wasn’t available to take her.

instead, the second you had met his eyes (which were terribly green and incredibly sad), you had folded, and told him you’d be available whenever he needed. and you thought maybe that would garner you a smile—and you’d been wrong. he had looked your way for about five seconds, muttered thank you, and walked away. 

and maybe if you could resist those terribly green and incredibly sad eyes, you wouldn’t have wound up as a full-time nanny. life could always be worse—that’s the motto you’ve grown up with. there are so many worse things in oceanside than spending every day in a pretty house by the beach and taking care of a quiet little girl. 

if not anything else, you could start making payments on your student loans, if you wanted. mister cody paid you in cash, and he paid you way too much, probably his way of apologizing for how much you had stepped up in the last couple months. but again, you didn’t really mind anymore. maybe if it was another family, you would care more about finding a real job.

but you like lena. you like her uncle, too, you think, as much as you can like a man who is virtually silent and stares at you like he’s boring into your soul when you’re making dinner. you like him because he’s good with her, you can always tell he’s trying his absolute best, his hardest with her. (it doesn’t help that he’s cute—cute in the way that strays are, like you wish you could fix everything wrong with him and reassure him that he’s doing enough, and tell him to stop staring and just come tell you what he’s thinking instead.) 

the first couple months were the hardest. lena wasn’t eating, wasn’t sleeping. she hated school, hated all the things she had still cared for when her dad was alive. you’d tried bribing her with trips to the beach, the playground, ice cream with extra fudge and sprinkles. all the things that kids liked. but she wasn’t just a normal kid—and it seemed that you and her uncle were the only ones who understood this. 

you didn’t realize you had such a maternal instinct inside of you. maybe it’s because the other kids you’d babysat in your life had been brats, sticky handed toddlers going through the terrible twos and making your life hell while you were trying to pass your classes. lena is the opposite. 

she’s the saddest child you’ve ever met, and you know nothing that you or her uncle do is going to fix it overnight.

but progress comes in stages. the first step had been getting her to want to eat again. you’d sat on the couch next to her, watching a nature documentary that her uncle had probably left playing on the tv.

(he is a whole other can of worms—he doesn’t sleep or eat that much either, and one time you had come in really early to get some work done before getting her to school. he’d been awake, watching something just like this, at five-thirty in the morning. and when you’d asked him when he’d gotten up, he had shrugged, and murmured something that sounded suspiciously close to i don’t sleep. that’s your next mission, because you can only focus on one at a time.)

“you hungry, sweetie?” you didn’t want to be pushy. she wouldn’t like that, would only retreat further into herself. you wanted her to come to you when she was ready to eat. lena shook her head and focused back on the television. “okay. well, if you get hungry later, i’ll eat with you.”

lena says okay in her quiet voice, holding onto a stuffed animal and staring ahead. you wait a couple of hours—there’s always something to do in the house. you clean up, wiping counters and sweeping while she stays on the couch. you check in every now and then to make sure she didn’t fall asleep. 

and then, thirty minutes before her new bedtime, she comes and sits on the chair by the dining table while you’re wiping it down.

“can we get pizza?” she asks, and you nod right away.

“of course we can. what kind do you want?”

another thirty minutes later, the pizza’s there, and you’re both eating slices of pepperoni and spinach. you’ve formulated your plan for the rest of the night—her uncle’s still not home, which means you can crash on the couch or stay awake. you decide to stay awake, since there’s no follow up text from him. if he wasn’t going to come home tonight, you’d expect the standard, concise message; won’t be back tonight. is lena okay? 

and you’re stupid, because you think it’s sweet that he always asks if she’s okay. like you wouldn’t call him the second something went wrong, like he doesn’t believe that you’d trust him with that information before anyone else. but there’s no texts tonight from the contact you’d saved as andrew cody (lena’s uncle). 

lena’s finishing her last slice and you’re cleaning up when you hear it—the rumble of his truck pulling up to the house. then a minute later, footsteps and the front door opening.

“what’s all this?” he asks, and you have to remember to find the words. 

you don’t know why that happens when he comes around—you’re usually great with dads. maybe it’s because he looks tired, more tired than usual, at least. his copper curls are messed up, like he’s been running a hand through his hair all night. lena’s uncle is always stiff, but it seems worse today, somehow.

(another thought seeps in, an uninvited guest in your mind, about how you’d really like to take care of him. he just needs some sleep, a little peace of mind. that’s it. you’re still trying to figure out the best way to give it to him.)

“we got pizza, uncle pope,” lena fills in, setting down the last piece of crust you knew she wouldn’t finish. 

“there should be enough for you,” you add, smiling at him. he doesn’t smile back, but you’re used to that at this point. and you can tell what’s about to come. “lena, can you go brush your teeth and get your pajamas on for me?” 

she nods and climbs off the chair, running into her room. 

“it’s past her bedtime,” he starts, taking a few steps closer to you. “and pizza for dinner-”

you interrupt him, even though you probably shouldn’t. you close up the box, setting it on the island and you go back to wipe the table.

“she’s not eating, mister cody,” you put the paper towel down, getting your bearings in order to face him, make the dreaded, never-ending eye-contact. “when kids don’t eat you have to meet them halfway. i thought this was better than her going to bed without eating at all.” 

he keeps looking at you. you think you should be a little nervous, but you don’t get like that anymore. flustered, sure, but not nervous—lena’s uncle is just kind of a starer, and you’ve gotten used to it by now. 

“i’m sorry. i’ll run it by you next time, i promise. i just wanted her to eat something.” he’s silent for a while, like he’s processing what you said. 

“yeah. okay. thanks.” 

you smile again, a small one. the kitchen’s clean now, or at least as clean as you can get it. you’re sure that when you’re back in the morning, it’ll be spotless, which you can only assume is one of mister cody’s nocturnal activities. you have a routine before leaving—you say goodnight to lena, make sure you didn’t leave anything behind, and tell her uncle you’ll see him in the morning.

he doesn’t normally say anything back, maybe a grunt of acknowledgement. so you’re surprised tonight, when you grab your bag and your keys and hear—

“have a good night.” 

“you too, mister cody.” 

+

it took time, but you’ve gotten her schedule better. she eats dinner with you now, whatever semi-healthy thing you can think of with the stuff in the pantry and the groceries you picked up while she’s at school. her uncle leaves money for that sort of thing—an envelope filled with hundred dollar bills. it’s labeled lena’s babysitter in stiff, neat handwriting and he told you to use it for copays and ice-cream and anything else that lena needs. but it feels wrong to use his money when he already overpays you, so you just use your own. 

you thought he might not have noticed that the envelope isn’t getting any thinner, until one morning when you arrive and see him counting the notes in it with his head down. now you’re the one staring—watching his arm flex and the muscles move as he flips through the bills. he wears the same kind of shirts every day, short sleeve button-ups, and every day, you are subject to watch his forearms while he does whatever he does. it’s a cruel and unusual punishment.

the worst had been when you needed a box down from the cabinet, the one with the muffin tins and cookie cutters. he had appeared behind you and taken it down for you in seconds, carrying it to the kitchen for you. you had been staring then too, uncomfortable and slack-jawed and wondering why his arms had your mouth dry. (you know the answer, it’s just better to live in denial, you think.)

“good morning, mister cody.” you set your bag down on the sofa, heading inside to get started on breakfast. you open the fridge, taking out a carton of eggs and orange juice and avoiding looking right at him. you don’t need to be flustered before seven-thirty am.

“you haven’t been using this money,” he states. you wish you could figure out what his tone means—there’s no inflections, no emotion simmering behind the words. it’s just cut and dry, stating a fact.

“well, i-” you turn back and look up from the stove and your words die on your tongue. he’s standing up, looking right at you, a fist full of cash like he’s going to make you use it one way or another. a single vein running through his arms tenses. your gaze flickers from it to his eyes quickly, looking at you like he wants you to start listening to him.

“i, um, i had enough.”

“you should use it.”

“but you already gave me a lot, so i-”

“i want you to use it.” the way he says it, it’s not a request. 

“right. i-i will. is lena awake?”

“she’s getting ready.”

“great. thank you.” you turn back to the eggs with a flushed face. and even though you’re not facing him anymore, you can tell he’s still staring at you. 

“i might not be back tonight.” you turn around and meet his eyes again. terribly green, incredibly sad. you’re too far now to see the brown, but you know it’s there. “i…i’ve got some work. it’ll be late, if i do.”

“thank you for the heads up. i, uh, i’ll crash on the couch then.” you think he might say something else, but you’re not sure. it’s silent for a moment, while you get the eggs onto a plate and hurry into the hallway to get lena.

she comes out first, carrying her backpack. you follow with her hairbrush for once she’s done eating, getting her already packed lunch out from the fridge to sort into her bag. there’s a whole routine that you had learned when you first started babysitting her, and now it’s just a way of life. filling up her water bottle, checking the calendar on the fridge to make sure there’s nothing you’re missing, pulling her jacket from the closet if it’s cold outside.

you get the bottle out, glancing back at her uncle. he’s leaning in while lena takes a bite of the eggs, probably telling her that he won’t be home, and to have a good day, and all the other things you’re sure he says to her. then they hug, and you feel like you’re intruding.

he picks up his keys, which rest in the small blue bowl by the door where yours sit too. and without thinking, you call out after him.

“have a good day at work.” he doesn’t say anything back, but he looks at you before he leaves. you don’t even know what he does for work.

“ready for school?” lena shakes her head no like always.

+

the days are long, but the weeks are short. you bring lena to school, but they have a half-day, so there’s no point in going home for the day if you need to be back in a couple of hours. so you head back to mister cody’s place, focusing your attention on cleaning the remnants from breakfast. you check the fridge, making note of how much fruit and milk you have left, scribbling onto a piece of paper for later. and for once, you listen to him, taking a single bill out of the envelope and putting it into your wallet. there’s other hundred dollar bills in there too, ones you need to deposit.

it hasn’t been making sense lately. a lot of nannies live with their families because it avoids the wastefulness of paying rent for an apartment you hardly ever visit. you pay internet and electric for a one-bedroom that’s empty the entire day. and now that you’re done with classes, you don’t even need to work on anything late at night or even at lena’s house. you carry around a book with you, and you think you’ve even left a couple on the coffee table, just for the future. 

you don’t know why you still have your apartment. well, you know why—mister cody has never mentioned you moving in. and he probably never will, because he doesn’t want you to. but it just doesn’t make sense the more you think about it. you show up between six and seven and sometimes you don’t go home until ten. sometimes you don’t go home at all.

after making your list, you rack your head of things you can do to occupy lena’s time today. the library has a weekly reading, and there’ll be other kids there. you like to pick things so she can get some company from kids her age, so she’s not only stuck with you and her uncle all the time. 

closer to when school gets out, you get in the car, bringing in your emergency bag with a change of clothes and your toothbrush since you’ll be staying the night. it’s not an entirely uncommon occurrence, which is why the bag, and a couple others like it, is always ready to go. you go to the bank first, depositing everything except the single hundred-dollar bill you took today. then you drive by the park, see if they’re having any of those pet-therapy sessions today. and then finally school to pick up lena.

the rest of the day goes how you planned. you forget how exhausting it is keeping a little kid entertained for hours on end, unsure of exactly what her uncle pope and his brothers do with her sometimes, when you struggle to fill up a couple of extra hours. the grocery store—where you splurge and buy ingredients to make stove-top smores because lena asks and you’ll take your wins where you can get them—then the library, where you take out a couple of books for lena to read at home and smile when she’s talking with some of the other girls there, then the playground for an hour, before home for dinner.

you make spaghetti while she finishes her homework, and review her homework while she changes into pajamas. and then it’s time for the routine she loves so much, just like her uncle, a nature documentary about penguins while you toast the marshmallows on a fork. 

an hour later, lena’s asleep in bed, and you’re scrubbing hardened chocolate off the counter next to the stove. you don’t want more work for her uncle when he’s back, and you’ve learned lena’s a heavy sleeper, so you get to cleaning. it’s not like, as pathetic as the thought is, you have anything better to do. 

and then about two hours after that, it’s eleven-thirty. it’s right around the latest that mister cody has ever come home, so you’re pretty sure he won’t be back tonight. 

the only thing you have to look forward to in your apartment is the shower you take after a long day. you’ll have to make do with the shower inside the room where mister cody sleeps, since lena’s is close to her room and filled with products for an eight year old, and at the very least, you need adult shampoo and soap. 

the room is bare—you would have guessed it’s a guest room if you didn’t know better. you’re not nosy, but you look around, trying to see if there’s anything there that makes the room her uncle’s. you know there’s still another bedroom, the one her parents used to share, since lena sometimes goes in there when she can’t sleep. so this was a guest room, and now it’s mister cody’s, and now you’re lurking in it.

besides for a closet full of clean-pressed button up shirts and organized shoes, you can’t discern anything that makes this room his. there’s not a single thing out of place, from the garden-variety decor that someone else had picked to the artwork to the sheets. the bathroom is more of the same, the entire place having that lemon-cleaner smell to it. 

you turn the water on and strip, trying to avoid thinking about how you’ll be sleeping on the couch after this. and even inside the shower, you stare at the two-in-one shampoo bottle and the old spice body wash—old spice. who would have thought?—like you can’t believe what you’re looking at. you inhale the scent for longer than you need to. wrap yourself in a clean towel that doesn’t belong to you. brush your teeth with his spearmint toothpaste. and then you open your overnight bag, and find nothing but sundresses and bathing suits.

it’s past midnight, and you’ve grabbed the wrong bag. you need to get up in about six and a half hours to get lena ready for school, and you’re not positive you have the correct bag in the back of your car. 

hesitantly, you open one of the dresser drawers. there’s black and white t-shirts folded precisely, tucked in evenly. one drawer up there’s folded socks and boxers. 

you chew on your cheek. he did say that he won’t be home tonight. there’s no way he would know you took anything if you ran a load of laundry as soon as you woke up and folded it after morning drop-off. he might not even be home until the afternoon or evening, for all you know.

your tiredness makes the decision for you. the couch isn’t that comfortable, and you refuse to sleep in the shirt and jean skirt you spent all day in. you take a white shirt and black boxers, and then sneak back in for a pair of black socks because the living room is cold at night. and then you set your alarm, turn on another documentary—this one about hummingbirds, wrap yourself in the throw blanket on the couch, and close your eyes. 

andrew comes home at quarter to three. it would have been a lot sooner—he doesn’t like leaving you alone here at night with lena if he can avoid it—but he doesn’t always have control over it. a bullet had grazed deran and he’d spent two hours cleaning up that mess, and then they had to organize their splits before leaving. he had to make sure to stay for that—he needs the cash to pay you, rent for baz’s place, money to put into lena’s savings account. 

but he hates leaving you alone in the apartment with lena. not because he doesn’t trust you, but because he knows now it’s not safe, not without him there. he likes to get you home early but it’s rarely the case, and then he feels like he should pay you extra since he’s making you drive home alone in the dark.

telling you to stay is a better option. you can sleep in his room—it’s not like he’s going to sleep in there anyways. but he doesn’t say that, doesn’t need the nanny thinking there’s something wrong with him too. so he settles for telling you to stay the night, and letting you decide where you’ll sleep. 

you always pick the couch. and sometimes, he’s not back early enough, sometimes you’re already up making breakfast or gone out for the day with lena by the time he’s back.

 but tonight, you’re asleep on the couch. he sets down the bag with the cash on the couch, hovering over you. the television is still on, stuck on a are you still watching? screen, covering up a photo of some birds. a breath leaves him when he realizes you’re watching what he always watches. you’re knocked out—he can tell since the front door opening didn’t wake you like it sometimes does. you’ve kicked away the blanket you usually use, and he thinks for a second he should just cover you up and let you sleep.

but he doesn’t. he stands over you, staring at your sleeping form. he doesn’t like it—how pretty you are when you sleep. it’s a distraction that he can’t escape, knows that the next time he closes his eyes, he’ll think of you. that the next time he sits on this couch, he’ll be able to smell your skin. you snore softly, chest rising and falling evenly. 

and then he notices it—the plain shirt, black socks with a familiar logo. are those his boxers? and now he definitely can’t look away. he puts the pieces together—your hair is wet, meaning you must have showered and then put on his clothes before coming back out here. if you were going to do all of that, why didn’t you just sleep in his room?

yes, pope decides, he needs you to sleep in his bed. he needs the couch anyways, since he won’t be sleeping, so he might as well bring you inside. 

he lifts you carefully, not wanting to stir you accidentally. his shirt is a little big on you, hanging off your shoulder. you stay sound asleep the entire short walk to his bedroom, not stirring even when he sets you down. you must have been really tired, but that makes sense, given the fact that you’ve been out all day with lena.

he thought about sticking a tracker on your car, but the first time he was taking care of lena, after baz, you had shared your phone’s location with him so he could keep track. you had offered it, voluntarily, saying something about how that’s common with babysitters now, and that you never go anywhere without your phone so he won’t have to worry about you leaving it at home.

you thought reassuring him that he would always have lena’s location in his phone would make him feel better. and maybe it had, but he’d never mentioned it again after that day, never brought up if he actually checked it or not.

(it’s not like you would know if he was using it, it doesn’t work like that. deran had explained it to him.) he did check it, pretty frequently, actually. he checked it after you’d leave when he got home, after lena was asleep. he’d watch your little circle drive home and pull into the parking lot of your apartment complex. it wasn’t as bad of an area as it could be, but it wasn’t that safe either. he liked to check it every now and then too, middle of the night, saturday evenings when he was home with lena and you got to leave early or had the day off.

he assumed, somehow, that you’d be in bars or parties at your college, maybe. but when he looks at your location late at night, you’re always at home. he checks other times too—but he’s just trying to keep you safe. (that’s what he tells himself—that finding another babysitter than lena liked and that he trusted would be a hassle. he needs to keep you safe.)

but it doesn’t seem like you like any of that stuff. he’s never seen you drink the beer in the fridge, though you offer one to him every now and then. you’ve met smurf and deran and craig before, like when you’d go to drop off lena before one of your classes, back before you had finished school.

you were smart—he knew that much. that was the kind of good example he needed around lena, someone who had gone through school and finished. he didn’t know what your degree was in, but it must’ve been something smart, something important. you were always typing on your computer and reading books. whatever it is that you studied, he wants someone in lena’s life that can help her with that stuff, stuff he doesn’t know much about, when it’s time.

you were smart enough to turn down every joint or bump that craig offered. you never accepted a drink from smurf that didn’t come from a can that you opened yourself. and baz used to tell him that you were just a local college kid, that you didn’t have any family nearby or anyone to occupy your time, really. 

it didn’t make sense—pretty girl like you. he would have thought you had a boyfriend, but if you do, you’ve never brought him around. and if he didn’t live with you or live at that coffee shop you liked that was down the street from your apartment, then he didn’t know if you even had one. maybe he shouldn’t spend any time thinking about your hypothetical boyfriend, but that’s just what comes up sometimes when he thinks about you for too long. like right now.

you look peaceful lying in his bed. your eyes flutter quickly like you’re having a dream, and he sits on the bed next to you, watching you sleep. your hair falls across your face, and his finger twitches. he almost moves his hand to brush the hair away, but he decides not to, settling for just watching you for another minute or two. 

the bed creaks slightly when he gets up. no one uses it much, so it’s a little weary. he doesn’t think the noise is anything, but your eyes blink open. the door’s open, light from the living room illuminating a sliver of the space.

he thinks he should get out before you can ask any questions, but he doesn’t, hovering over the bed while you look around. 

“andrew?” and god if it doesn’t sound different coming from your lips. you’re too tired to remember that you usually stick with mister cody, which is so formal it hurts. it sounds real, sincere, not filled with fear or anger or anything else. you haven’t even said anything and he thinks he’s losing his mind. 

it’s just the way you say it. there’s no question attached, no demand, no sacrifice. just you, making sure it’s him. 

“that couch is bad for your back,” he says. 

he knows it is, the couple times he tried to lay down and stare at the ceiling. he’s always sore, muscles screaming and joints aching but he knows how to ignore it. he doesn’t think you should start feeling like that. feels angry at the very idea that you would be sore after spending a night on the couch, taking care of his niece, looking after baz’s house. doing all the things that he’s too busy to do.

you take care of things. you do a good job too—figuring out how to get lena to eat and sleep again. making sure her routine doesn’t go awry just because he’s gone on a job all day. you remember things that he doesn’t even know about—activities with kids after school and how the school has soccer practice starting soon. you think a couple steps ahead when it comes to lena, and sometimes, he doesn’t think you see it as a job. 

like when you make enough breakfast for the three of you. leave dinner on a plate inside the microwave with a note on the counter. when you clean like it’s your house, make sure things stay in the place they’re supposed to, which is so much harder when there’s a kid around. he’s not stupid—it’s why he gives you so much money each week, shoves an envelope into your hand despite your protests. why the first thing he does after he gets his cut is make sure you get yours. 

and as hard as the thought is to swallow, he doesn’t think he could do all of this without you. 

“mmh-” you agree, making a soft noise. he wishes he could engrain it into his brain and replay it whenever he wants. “i thought you don’t sleep?” you ask, and he sees your lips turn up into a smile. he wishes the lights were on.

“i try,” he replies, realizing that he’s still hovering over you. he wonders why you weren’t scared the moment you woke up. “sometimes. i try.” 

“do you wanna try now?” you ask, whispering. and he goes silent—because what is he supposed to say that? 

you reach out in the dark for his hand, and he flinches, taking it back. but you don’t retreat, reaching out again until you’re grasping his fingers. 

“try for a couple hours. i set an alarm,” you say, and the way you say it, it doesn’t sound like a bad idea. you have a way of convincing him, or maybe it’s just late and you’re tired, and your sleepy voice isn’t helping matters. nor does the fact that you don’t seem even remotely concerned that you’re inviting him to come sleep on the bed next to you.

you sit up a little, and he regrets even staying as long as he did. you need your sleep, unlike him. you’re still holding onto his hand, and your skin is warm on his. it couldn’t really be, but it feels like it’s burning his, where your palm rests against his, where your fingers twist with his. 

“hey,” you start, slow and soft. “don’t think about it. just sleep for a little.” 

“yeah,” he says. “okay. a little.”

you move over, and when he lays down—back straight against the mattress, staring up at the ceiling—it’s warm where your body was resting. you’re still holding onto his hand, not letting go. your grip is loose enough that he could free his hand easily, and even if it wasn’t, he could overpower you if he wanted.

but he doesn’t want to. and somewhere between your slow breaths and how you rub his knuckles, running your soft skin against dozens of old scars—because that’s his punching hand—andrew falls asleep.

you can hear it, his breaths getting steady, evening out. your hands stay together in the middle of the bed, between you, and you wonder for a split second how you’re going to deal with this in the morning, how you’ll make sense of this in daylight. the semblance of a professional relationship you had maintained this entire time might turn into dust in a couple hours. and then you breathe in andrew’s comforting scent, clean linen and saltwater, and fall back asleep.

the best thing about this house is the light and the waves. golden rays pour in through the half-way open blinds and you can hear the ocean crashing against the rocks in the distance. it’s the perfect way to wake up, even if it is six-thirty and your alarm is going off in the living room, where your phone must be.

you need to get up. you don’t want lena to wake up from the noise, even though you know she won’t—that girl can sleep through anything. it’s a problem for when she’s older, when she goes to college and there’s no one besides a roommate to make sure she doesn’t miss class. even half-asleep, you smile thinking about it.

and somehow, when you look on the other side of the bed, it hits you that it wasn’t a dream. andrew is asleep next to you, still in whatever clothes he was wearing throughout the day. a short sleeved button up and pants. you’re surprised that he didn’t fall asleep with his shoes on. 

he looks very calm when he sleeps. the lines of tension on his forehead and around his eyes are soft when he’s like this, his hair a mess and cheek smushed against the pillow, against your hand.

he’s still holding your hand. it makes a certain kind of warmth rain all over you, flooding you from inside out. he’s on top of the covers and you’re under the throw blanket, and you don’t remember doing that, which means that he did.

an exhausted, half-asleep andrew cody covered you up before he fell asleep on top of the covers. he fell asleep holding your hand and your chest hurts because he won’t wake up holding it still, since you need to go turn that stupid alarm off. 

he never sleeps, you know this. he’s never been asleep when you show up early, never heading to bed when you leave for the day. this bed is pretty much always made, sheets never rustled and not a pillow out of place because no one sleeps here. you hope you can start changing that.

you don’t want to pull your hand away from him. it’s so simple, so sweet that you can’t bring yourself to do it. that this whole time, andrew just needed someone to sleep beside him. you rest your head back on the pillow, continue staring, creepy as it is. you’ve never been able to study him like this before, have never been close enough. 

the hand holding onto yours is softer than you’d imagined. the veins running through his forearm are thick and tense, even when he’s like this. you think it might be from how tightly he’s holding onto your hand, like even in his sleep he’s worried he might lose you somehow. 

andrew cody has freckles—all across his arms and on his hands too. there’s a splatter of them across his nose and cheeks, places where he must have gotten burnt as a kid, maybe when he was lena’s age. the tips of his ears flush pink while he sleeps, and he snores. all things that make you smile, things that are so personal you feel your face getting warm, like you shouldn’t have access to that information. 

you need to turn that god-damn alarm off, before it wakes him up. you think you’d rather die than disrupt the few hours of peaceful sleep he’s getting right now. so you wriggle your hand, trying to find the best way to get it out of his grip and make sure you don’t wake him in the process. nothing’s working, even in his sleep he’s thrice as strong as you. the generic alarm tone keeps going in the background.

you lean in, pressing a chaste kiss to andrew’s cheek, whispering that you promise to be right back. and for a split second he moves around, and you regain control of your tingling hand.

the bed creaks a little when you get up, but you do it slowly so it’s not too loud. walk to the couch as fast as your bare feet will take you, looking down and realizing you’re still in andrew’s socks.

(his shirt and boxers too, but you’re choosing to ignore that for now. if someone walked in through the front door in this moment, it would look like you and him were something other than a guardian and babysitter. you think you’d actually enjoy trying to see him explain to his brothers why you’re in his clothes head to toe. you might like this more than you think you did.)

you can hear the ocean again once the alarm is turned off. it’s a beautiful thing to wake up too, you think, pulling open the curtains and looking outside on the street. people are on runs, doing yoga on the beach, watching the sunrise with their dogs.

and inside, andrew cody is sound asleep.

the first part of your day is waking up lena. she grumbles and takes five, sometimes ten, minutes to get up after you go in there. in that time, you set out clothes for her and then head back to the kitchen. you have a habit of making sure her backpack has everything—the colorful pens she’s always telling you about and yesterday’s homework. if she forgot something at home, the school would call andrew, and then andrew would call you, and you hate adding more work to his life. so, you make sure it’s all there before she leaves.

then breakfast—eggs and toast if you’re running late, pancakes if you got there early. it’s seeming like a pancake sort of day.

you make the batter and then pull out the bag of chocolate chips and head back to lena’s room. you use the semi-sweet morsels as an incentive to get her up, which works like a charm. while she’s changing and brushing her teeth, you make three pancakes. two for lena, and the first one you peeled that’s never quite as good is for you. 

lena comes to the table to eat her pancakes, and you tell her to stay just a little quieter than usual because her uncle pope is still sleeping.

“really?” she asks, and you feel something inside of you twist in discomfort. as if you had imagined before you met him, maybe he was sleeping, that maybe this was something recent. you smile at lena.

“yeah, sweetie, really.” 

you bring lena to school, come back home, and check on andrew—who is still sleeping. you cover him up with the blanket you’d slept under and then make three more pancakes and some scrambled eggs. there’s no bacon in the house or you would have made that too.

you scribble it on the grocery list and then head back inside the bedroom, carefully perching yourself on the edge of the bed and maybe a little too comfortable, too quick, run your fingers through his messy hair. he sighs against the pillow and it makes you smile immediately. you keep going, fingers not stopping until you see his eyes fluttering open. you don’t want to make him uncomfortable, though you don’t want to stop either. 

“i made breakfast,” you say quietly. andrew looks up at you, and then to your slept-in side of the bed. he moves, sitting up in the bed and you take back your hand tentatively. his hair is soft like you’d imagined.

 he wipes his face with his hands, rubbing at his eyes. and when he looks at you, you feel any prudence that once was inside you melt away. well-rested, sleepy andrew cody, waking up in the bed you shared last night, while you tell him about the pancakes you made for him. you couldn’t have imagined this, for some reason, which makes it feel all the more real. 

“what time is it?” he asks, in a gruff, sleepy voice.

“almost nine, i think.” he looks up at you quickly.

“lena?”

“i brought her to school already. you-you were sleeping. i didn’t want to wake you.” 

“when did you get up?” 

“six-thirty. my alarm. remember?” you do remember telling him about it before you fell asleep, one of the last things you had said in a conversation that feels like it was light-years ago. 

“yeah.” you know better than to expect anything right now. he’s always been quiet, sentences curt and expressions relatively blank. you’ve had a few hours to simmer in it—think about what’ll happen tomorrow and next week and what it means to sleep in the bed next to the man whose niece you babysit. he just woke up a few minutes ago.

“well, there’s pancakes. and eggs. there’s no bacon but i’ll go get some later-”

“did you eat?” you catch his eye. perched on the bed next to him, you can see more than just green. brown too, around his pupils. not nearly as sad as they had seemed yesterday. 

“yeah. i had one.” 

“just one?” you don’t have an answer for that, but unusually confident, you stand up. 

“i’ll have a bite of yours if you come eat with me.”

and though you couldn’t have imagined it last night, you end up leaning against the counter with andrew, splitting bites of chocolate-chip pancakes (yours drenched in syrup, his comparably dry as a bone), and luke-warm scrambled eggs. 

he washes the dishes, and you put them away. it’s incredibly domestic. 

“i’m sorry about your clothes,” you say, sliding a plate back into the cupboard. “um, i’ll wash everything today.” you had to bring it up at some point.

and then andrew turns to look at you. head to toe, he stares, gaze flicking up and down for what seems like eons. you don’t have a guess for why, maybe he’s trying to decide if he’ll accept your apology.

(he’s trying to memorize it, capture it like a picture in his brain, seal it up and hold onto it forever. how you look right now—his white shirt, with nothing underneath, which must be why he can see the outline of your breasts when you turn to put another dish away. his boxers, that you bunched up around your waist, his socks, one rolled up around your ankle and the other halfway up your calf. did you go to the school drop-off in his clothes, too?)

“and i can wash your jacket too, i’m sorry. it was kind of cold and i don’t know where my hoodie is. i-i’m sorry.”

he turns to look at you again. you seem worried, chewing on your cheek, waiting for his answer.

“don’t wash the jacket,” he says, and turns back to the sink. he doesn’t want it to stop smelling like you, but you don’t need to know that.

“yeah. sure. i won’t. sorry again, andrew.” 

his heart thuds in this chest at the realization that you might never go back to calling him mister cody. 

the two of you finish the dishes. he wipes up the counter while you put away lena’s things, and then he grabs his keys and puts on his shoes. you stand there watching, feeling awfully close to something like a wife watching her husband about to leave her for the day. and when you open your mouth, you can’t stop it from coming out.

“do you know when you’ll be back?”

“i’ll be here for dinner. can you pick up lena?” he doesn’t want to leave you, but there’s about ten texts and three missed calls on his phone that he needs to deal with. when he shrugs his jacket on, it does, in fact, smell like you. it might be enough to keep him calm the rest of the day.

“yeah, of course. well.. i’ll go start the laundry.” a vision of you peeling off your—his—clothes plagues his mind momentarily. “i’ll see you later?” you say, smiling hesitantly. 

and without thinking too much about it, andrew comes up close to you, leans in a little awkwardly, and kisses your forehead.

“i’ll see you later.” he leaves you there in his shirt and socks, blinking stupidly at the door. 

+

andrew does come back for dinner. you make an attempt at chicken parm at lena’s request, which really just turns out to be a sort of chicken parm-casserole situation, but lena likes it and the garlic bread tastes good, so you will call it a win for now.

while you’re simmering sauce and frying the cutlets, your mind flicks through everything you know about lena’s uncle. he’d never once been anything but nice to you—nice is one way to put it. polite is another. courteous, appropriate, reserved. 

one night you had been waiting for him so you could leave, and he’d come home with lena’s other uncles. you had introduced yourself and smiled nicely, and when you left and gotten into your car, it hadn’t turned on. you remember debating if you should go back inside or just call triple a and wait, but somehow, andrew had known something was wrong. he had come out a few minutes later, told you that he would drive you home while his brother stayed at home and that he’d be back in a minute. 

he’d dropped you off at home and told you he’d come get you in the morning. and you had slept anxiously that night, wondering what was wrong with your car and how much of a disturbance it would be to andrew to come get you. 

but after the two of you had dropped lena off at school—again, disturbingly domestic—he brought you back to the house. and without any words at all, he worked on your car while you sat and watched. you held a flashlight when he needed it, and he said it shouldn’t happen again when he was done. 

and you guess that’s the kind of man andrew cody is.

true to his word, andrew comes home in time to eat dinner with you and lena. after dinner, since it’s friday, you let her have a brownie and a half, the ones you’d made earlier that day. you have one too and you offer one to andrew, but he shakes his head, and you’re only mildly disappointed.

you haven’t been home, so you’re wearing one of the dresses from the wrong overnight bag you’d brought here. (your disappointment goes away when you notice that he hasn’t stopped staring at your exposed thighs since the minute he walked through the door.)

lena watches a cartoon before bed and you try to clean up the rest of the kitchen, but it’s hard, since andrew’s done most of the leg-work already. he tucks lena in and you gather your belongings—and true to your word, you did laundry and put his clothes back in the exact place you found them. 

(you did steal another pair of socks, but you hardly think he minds now. he kissed you goodbye this morning like he was actually your husband, or something, and every minute you spend in this house washing dishes and scrubbing counters next to him is not helping. he stares at the straps of your dress like he could slip them off your shoulder with his mind, like it’s the only thing he’s thinking about. you don’t mind.) 

“she’s out,” he says, coming back into the living room. you’re sitting on the couch, knees tucked to your chest while you change the channel to one of those documentaries you’ve been so fond of recently. you turn to smile at andrew and he comes and takes a seat next to you. 

“that’s good. i can go soon.” but you make no effort to move, staring at the screen in front of you. this one is about sea-life, shades of blue flooding ahead of you both. 

“you can stay,” andrew says, quiet like always. “if you want.” his voice is deep and gravelly, and the words he says scratch an itch somewhere deep inside of you, and the relief is visible on your body. you sink a little further into the sofa, knees falling next to andrew’s, thighs touching. 

“if that’s okay with you.” you whisper it, as if saying it too loudly might make the entire idea crack open and fall apart.

you two stay like that for a while. you don’t know when, but andrew swings an arm around your shoulder, and you rest your head against his chest, collapsing into his comfortable grip. you can hear his heart beating, can feel every breath he takes. his hand brushes the top of your shoulder every time you breath, and his other hand is clasped with yours. you watch schools of fish and pods of dolphins, and you think that any other night, you could fall asleep like this. 

“andrew?” you ask, still staring straight ahead. you brush your fingers over his knuckles like you had done last night, and you can feel his hand tense under your touch, until it finally relaxes. “do you want to go to bed?” 

“yeah, kid,” he says. “let’s go to bed.” 

and you’ll be damned if the domesticity doesn’t kick you in the stomach, sucker punch you in the chest and knock all the wind out of you. andrew turns the tv off, puts the remote back in the right place. and then he picks you up, and you make a quiet noise of surprise, underestimating him momentarily. you should know better.

one hand wraps around your legs and the other around your back, bridal-style (fitting, you think), and he sets you down on the creaky bed. you worry, how loud it’ll be and how you’ll have to be quiet but then andrew hovers over you, nothing but a tiny lamp brightening up the room, and you lose your train of thought.

“you sure you wanna do this?” he asks, that rough voice again. like you’ve thought about anything else for the last twenty-four hours. you nod quickly, bringing your hands to his chest, and then his arms, fingers tracing the sinewy veins and thrumming muscles up and down on both sides. his eyes shut while you do it, breaths getting heavy and deep. but you keep going—it’s only fair. you’ve only thought about it a million times. 

“does that feel good?” you whisper, and he lets out a quiet, almost painful groan.

“y-yes,” and you smile, fingers moving on their own while you lean in for the kiss you’ve been waiting for. 

andrew’s mouth is hot, and his kisses are like fire. as soon as your lips touch, he pins you all the way down, his body weight on top of yours. he kisses you the same way he had held your hand last night, the same way he held you on the couch, like you’ll slip away if he stops for even a second. your lips start to ache, but you moan quietly into his mouth, letting him swallow them while you still stroke his arms. one day, you’ll crawl into his lap and play with his hands until he’s sick of you, but today, you need to feel him. 

you can’t do much from your position, but you can wrap your legs around his waist, one hand going towards his chest to pull at his shirt. he takes it off in one motion, yanking the fabric at the back until it comes off, messing up his hair while he pulls it. your free hand goes there, running through his hair again. you use it to steady yourself, gaining leverage while he keeps kissing you like there’s nothing else for him to do. like his life depends on it. he thinks it just might.

“an-andrew,” you get out in gasps, moving your mouth away for a second. “i need to breathe,” you pant, but he doesn’t stop, kisses your cheek and your jaw and buries his face in your neck. you feel the skin there between his lips, then his teeth, and you grip hard on his arm while he keeps going. you want him to keep going, you want to see the marks he leaves tomorrow and every other day. you want everyone to look at you and know that he’s the one who left them. and you think your wish is about to come true.

your fingers let go of his arms and he groans against your skin—there’s no words but you know he didn’t want you to stop. instead you guide them to both sides of his face, staring up at him and then bringing him back in for another kiss. you think you’d be perfectly content to do this forever, that you could spend hours, days, weeks in bed kissing andrew cody. that you’d be stupid to ever leave this bed, leave this house, when there’s a man here who kisses you like each touch of your lips is a prayer, like he’s here to worship. 

he’s not hesitant anymore, not wondering if you’re going to pull away and walk out and ask to pretend this never happened. you keep your hands on his face, and then work down to his jaw and neck, clasping your arms around to keep him in place. 

and his mind is empty. he thinks he should know what to do with you, with your labile body flush against his, all the things he’s been thinking about for the last months, if not at least what he was thinking since this morning. you’re still in your little dress, one of the thin straps fallen over your shoulder and dangling on the skin of your upper arm. he pulls away and you whine, another noise he wishes he could capture somehow. it’s a melody, one he wants to keep hearing. 

you wish he hadn’t stopped the kiss, and you expect him to lean right back in after you both catch your breath, but he doesn’t. andrew’s hovering over you, eyes fixated on your shoulder, staring intently at the strap of your dress. 

“andrew?” you whisper, the hand on his neck rubbing the tense skin there, wondering if you could get your kiss back. “is something wrong?”

his lovely eyes flicker up to you, staring while you swallow and wait patiently. maybe you’d been too eager, maybe he was having regrets—after all, you’re the nanny and he’s the dad and maybe you’d been too presumptuous in assuming that he wanted you as badly as you wanted him—

“no. nothing’s wrong.” you sigh a tiny breath of relief, it comes out before you even notice. but andrew is nothing if not perceptive, and he wraps his hand around your back and lays you back on his bed. 

“why did you stop?” you question, flustered and embarrassed as the words come out, sounding like a spoiled child. but you suppose you had been spoiled these last few hours, getting everything you wanted—his hot touch, breathless kisses, the ability to finally see what the veins on his arms feel like under your palm. 

he doesn’t answer your question, just flicks his eyes back to your shoulder. and then he leans in, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the end of your collarbone, tracing more kisses down through the length of your shoulder, stopping when he reaches the skimpy cotton of your dress. you take deep breaths, watching it happen in front of you. he repeats the same with the other side, pulls the strap down like he’s unfolding a gift, kisses your skin like you’re his present. and you think you are.

there’s nothing between you two except your thin dress, and you pull on it eagerly, trying to get it off, when his hands come and stop on top of yours.

“you’ll rip it,” andrew says, fingers going towards the zipper in the back, undoing it slowly.

“i don’t care,” breathless, eager, unable to wait even another minute to get what you want. he pulls the zipper all the down, your dress falling off as your shrug out of it. 

and you want another kiss, you want his touch, you want something, anything—but all you get is andrew staring at your naked body. and you think somehow this is worse than anything else, anticipation burning in your belly painfully. your thighs feel sticky and sore and your underwear is soaked through. and all he’s done is kiss you. 

“you’re perfect,” he says quietly, and you feel your entire face burn hot. you don’t think you’ve ever felt like this before—and you know how andrew is. he doesn’t lie, he doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean. 

you tilt your head up, pressing your lips to his for a moment, a soft kiss in contrast to the ones from earlier.

“so are you,” and you kiss him again, smiling against his mouth. he feels it, though he doesn’t smile back. and when he pulls away, he looks down at you, naked and willing in his bed, smiling up at him and telling him he’s perfect, when you don’t even know half the monster he is. “you are,” you repeat, watching andrew’s eyes as he thinks a million thoughts in his head, carries a million burdens on his shoulders. “even if you don’t believe me. i think you’re perfect.” 

you feel cheesy saying it, though you know there isn’t another man in the world who needs to hear it more. you can hear him make a noise of protest, like he doesn’t think you mean it, and incredibly desperate for him to believe you, you sit up.

your hands go to sturdy shoulders while you try to get him to move, until he’s sitting back against the headboard and you can crawl onto his lap. he’s silent, watching you as you do it, exposed body flush against his skin, and yet, you don’t feel scared. you don’t feel embarrassed, or worried. you just want to make him feel good.

you start with a kiss to his jaw. andrew’s body tenses under yours, the slightest bit of contact making him groan and buck up, his hands tight on the soft skin of your waist to keep you both steady. you work your way down to his neck, pressing kisses everywhere in your path. 

“do you want to know what i’ve thought about you?” you ask, though you don’t wait for an answer. you kiss down his chest, stopping at the strong muscles of his chest and the old bruises and scars that cover some of them. “i thought that you’re so good at taking care of your family.” you move down to his abs, more kisses, hearing more noises from andrew that you never would have thought he would make for you. he takes shuddering breaths, not replying to you but grunting from pleasure while you keep going. “i thought that you’re so good to me. that i don’t have to worry since i know i can always come to you.” you think of your car and the money he gives you and how you woke up in bed despite falling asleep on the couch. 

finally you make your way to the waistband of his jeans, undoing the belt with surprisingly steady hands. he reaches down, his hands covering yours for a moment, but you stare up at him with your glassy eyes, not even pulling the entire belt off, just enough to get you what you need—what you want. and then you undo his zipper, tug down his boxers, and take his girthy length into your hand, stroking up and down while still staring up at him. 

“can i take care of you, andrew?” and you don’t realize how it must sound to him, his head thudding back onto the pillow. you press a gentle kiss to his leaking tip, both hands wrapped around his dick and stroking while you wait for your answer. 

“y-yes, yes-” and you don’t wait any longer, taking as much of andrew into your mouth as you can fit. you drive your mouth up and down, your hands twisting around the base, everything wet and warm and sticky from your spit. and you think you would do this forever, that you would do this everyday if you could hear the noises he makes and how his body takes the pleasure you give him. you gag around him, feeling his hand snake into your hair, pulling you off gently. you smile up at him, though you’re sure you look like a mess, hot tears running down your cheeks and lips shiny and wet. 

but you don’t stop—licking up and down until you bring him back into your mouth. you can feel how embarrassingly wet you are right now, can feel yourself leaking onto your thighs and the sheets, wanting friction as badly as you wanted to make andrew feel good right now. and then you hear it—andrew’s moan, louder than any of the other noises and full and from the chest. he bucks up into your mouth and you take it, ready to hear what he sounds like when he finishes, when he pulls you off of him. 

“andrew—” you whine, as though you were the one about to come. he pulls you up, naked bodies pushed against each other, and kisses you until you feel light-headed.

“not until you do,” he murmurs, and you feel dizzy all over again.

“but i’m not done,” still eager to kiss the rest of his body and tell him how good he is, until he starts to believe you. you wrangle out of his loose grip, knowing full well if he wanted to stop, he could have. he could pin you down and do whatever he wanted to you and you wouldn’t be able to fight him, a thought that makes you feel like you’re going to faint. but you resume quickly, starting at his shoulders—stopping to admire all the sunspots spattered there—and starting your journey again, working down his bicep and to his freckled forearm, the ones you stared at whenever the opportunity presented itself, the one you thought about all the time.

andrew doesn’t know about that, and you’re not sure you can bear to tell him. it feels too revealing, despite how you’re naked on top of him, your breasts pressed against him and wet pussy on top of his hard, leaking dick. but sure—that’s what you get nervous about. 

you stop and trace all the veins with your fingers, feeling him pulse underneath you, repeating on both sides. he’s got his head tilted back, soft groans filling the empty space between you as you keep going. if they’re this sensitive for him, you can only imagine what it would feel like for you, especially the one leading down to the middle of his wrist—and then the words slip out before you can realize you had said them out loud.

your face goes hot again. he looks up at you a little confused, and you have to stop yourself from collapsing and burying your face into the pillow next to you.

“andrew?” you ask, shy and embarrassed and yet not stopping yourself at all. 

“you… you like my arms?” he says, and you feel your face heat up.

but so many things have happened already that you couldn’t have even dreamt about twenty-four hours ago, so you think it’s worth a shot. (that’s a lie. you have dreamt about this, so many times that you’ve woken up in your bed covered in a cold sweat, that you’ve burned through a vibrator and ruined pillows imagining what it would be like to rub yourself against his veiny arms. you guess you’re about to find out). 

your fingers trace the length of them again.

“i like everything about you,” you say quietly, understanding just how silly you sound. “but we don’t have to do anything.” you try to cover your tracts, worried you’ve just messed up the incredible time you’ve been having so far littering his body with kisses and feeling butterflies in your cunt from the fact that andrew will be inside of you soon. 

“how would you-” andrew starts, and you watch him carefully as he gets out the next few words. “do it? how?” and it’s just cut and dry way he speaks, though it’s really going to your head (and other places) right now. 

“well, i-”

“show me.” oh. 

you feel yourself pulse and throb in response to his words. even below you, you can still feel how hard andrew is. you try to start positioning yourself, but you must be moving too slowly for him, and you feel his hand on your ass, grabbing you and pushing you up to his chest, face to face. he lays his arm next to you, watching your naked body as you try to balance yourself between it, his free arm on your hip, keeping you steady. 

when you lower yourself, just an inch or two, just until you feel the ridge of his forearm and you can decide what to do after realizing that you are, in fact, doing this, andrew curses under his breath.

“fuck, you’re so wet.” he can feel it. feel you, on his arm, leaking, for him. you take a deep breath, pressing your hands against his chest to keep your balance, moving your hips up and down slowly. and your eyes flutter shut because fuck, if it isn’t better than every fantasy you’ve ever had.

you hadn’t known that your pathetic attempts to recreate this at home would have never lived up to the real thing, and now you realize you’ll never be able to go back to anything else but andrew, that no one else could make you feel this way. months of pent-up desire leave your body as you rock yourself against him, finally getting the stimulation you’ve been craving.

when you open your eyes, just for a second, you see andrew, his eyes glued to where your pussy meets his arm, his breaths heavy and deep, like he wouldn’t look away from the sight before him for anything.

and then you feel the veins rub against your clit, and your eyes roll back into your head. you keep going, trying to muffle your moans and sighs, but you can’t get the image out of your head—andrew staring at you, like he wanted this as much as you’ve wanted it, like he needs to see you cum like this. you start going faster, the friction and the slide from your juices making it easier and the veins rubbing at you just the right way—

he leans in, putting one of your peaked nipples into his mouth, flicking his tongue against it, before letting go and repeating the same with the other one. but it’s really when andrew starts talking that you’re pulled over the edge, his hand hot on your back.

“please,” he says, and you feel yourself falling into it, hanging onto every raspy word, so much better than you could have ever dreamed, “-i-i need you to cum for me. i need to feel you, i need to see it, please-”

and you do. you always listen to andrew, all the white-hot tension wound up in your belly releasing, flooding your entire body with the relief you’ve been wanting all night. your body tightens up, stopping, but he moves you with the huge hand on your hip, makes you rub on him all through it, pulling your body like you’re a toy for him.

your mind is empty while your toes curl and uncurl, thighs aching and sore in this position. andrew ushers you towards him, and you collapse on his chest, heaving and sweaty and tired—and the realization hits you that he hasn’t even been inside of you yet.

he kisses you while he has you trapped in his arms, your eyes shut as you breathe him in, moan into his mouth and let him swallow it. 

“y-your arm,” you get out, realizing you’re not speaking in coherent sentences. “i’m sorry-”

“why?” he asks, and you shut up instantly. “didn’t know you liked them that much.” 

he laughs quietly, a sound you have only heard a few times. you laugh against his chest for a moment, before pulling him in for another kiss. this time, it deepens, and he gets you on your back in front of him before he pulls away. you stare up at him, mind empty and chest heaving, seeing how his eyes stay on your tits, and you reach up, putting your hands on his chest while he hovers over you.

“it might hurt,” he says, and you feel your entire body tighten, your walls clench at his words. there’s nothing but truth behind his statement—it’s not meant to be arrogant or boastful, he’s warning you. it’s going to hurt, you know it is—you could barely fit half of him in your mouth and it took you both hands to be able to comfortably stroke him.

but the way he says it elicits a fire in you, and suddenly you need him now, no matter how much it hurts. 

“i don’t care, andrew, please,” you beg, staring up at him. he still hovers, licking his lips and staring at your how tits bounce while you beg him to fuck you—a thought that he cannot process, even with you splayed out in front of him. he brings his arms out, fingers teasing your sensitive nipples until you’re covering your own mouth to avoid being too loud and you think you’re going to black out. (even in the dim light you can see the shine on his forearm from you, and the memory of it takes over your mind like a twister.) 

“i have to stretch you out first.” the words possess your body like a demon. andrew takes your knees and spreads them apart, and no matter how hard you try to close them, you can’t compete against him. when he slides in one huge finger, your eyes roll back. he slips in so easily, the noise is obscene. the second finger goes in just as quickly, but there’s more resistance. two of his fingers are at least three of yours (if not more, you think, and then you want to faint again). the stretch is delicious, your pulsing walls realizing that this has been what you’ve been craving all along. that no toys or pillows or fingers of your own could ever compare.

when he slips a third finger in, he doesn’t change the pace. just keeps pushing them in and out of you like you’re a toy he’s testing the limits with, seeing how much you can take before you break. there’s no instructions for you besides to sit back and take it—and your toes curl and your head spins at how good he feels. the stretch hurts, but you want it so badly, you hear yourself crying out and saying incoherent things. you think you see andrew smile from where he is, watching your cunt suck his fingers in, his entire hand coated in your juices.

and when he hovers over you, bringing his tip to your entrance and prodding against you for a moment, you think you’re in heaven. he’s so flushed, tips of ears and his cheeks pink, sweat coating his body, just like yours. you can only imagine how hard he is, how you’ll get to feel how hard he is soon enough. his eyes stay at your pussy, pushing in, just barely, but you need more. you bring your hands to his arms, holding onto him while he slides in, and when you feel him push all the way in—so much bigger than you could have imagined, three of his fingers is nothing compared to this, nothing, nothing, nothing—he’s on top of you and kissing you. 

whatever noises you make are tuned out—your ears are ringing and you can’t hear anything besides andrew’s grunts and moans as they come into your mouth. you keep kissing him, pulling on his lower lip and feeling his tongue on yours, but your entire body goes slack when he starts on a brutal pace, pulling all the way out and slamming into you. the bed is creaky, and the only noise besides it is the obscene one—the squelch of your soaking wet cunt taking andrew all the way, the repetitive slap of his skin meeting yours. you feel everything—the pressure of his hands while he holds you incredibly tightly, the fullness in your cunt that makes it feel like you can’t breathe.

and then andrew kisses your lips and makes a noise that makes you leak even more, and you know you’ll be just fine.

“i-i want-” he starts, and you feel him slow down the pace slightly.

“please, andrew,” you beg, and he resumes, fucking into you with an intensity that reminds you how badly he wants you, how long he’s wanted this. it reminds you of every time you caught him staring, every time you smiled at him wondering what he was thinking. and now you think you know—maybe he was thinking about something like this.

“i want another one,” he says into the skin of your neck, feeling him lick the sweat there and kiss the skin. “i want to feel it while i’m inside-” and god if you can’t comply. you want to do every single thing he tells you for the rest of your life, you don’t want to make another decision without andrew cody. 

he changes the position, pulling out of you for a second and making you whine again. (spoiled, you think, he’s spoiled me for anyone else forever.) he holds both of your knees up and spreads them wide and wraps your arms around them, keeping them in place. and then he slides back inside of you in one swift movement, making your eyelids flutter shut. he doesn’t get right on top of you, leaving space between you that makes it impossible to lean in for a kiss, and you keep whining, impossibly and irrationally angry that you can’t kiss him, wondering why he wants you like this, when you feel his fingers circle your clit slowly—then quickly.

your head falls back onto the pillow. andrew can feel you pulsing around him, walls clenching every time he rubs your sensitive clit, and that’s what he wants, that’s what he needs, wants to feel you cum around his dick and squeeze him even tighter than you are right now. wants to see how you look completely fucked out, wants to see if you can give him a third. (he’ll get it, he decides, later. he’ll give you a chance to breathe, get you water after this. all the things he would do to take care of you, just like how you deserve, how a husband would take care of his wife.) 

because at the end of the day, isn’t that what you two basically already are? you couldn’t be a girlfriend, because you have to get comfortable around a girlfriend. 

no, he thinks, watching your fucked-out, flushed body take him like you were made for it. you already know him, know what he likes and doesn’t like, know how to make him feel good like you had been inside of his head already. you have been inside. you’re all he thinks about. that’s a wife, that is something that is forever, what the two of you have. 

he doesn’t realize how hard he’s going, how fast, or how you’ve been squealing with your entire body tensing while he was stuck in his thoughts about you. this time when you finish, it explodes through you, the electric current staring from your core and spreading to every finger and toe. you jolt, legs shaking and head heavy, the after effect rolling through you while andrew keeps fucking you, keeps going even though he should probably stop. you’re incoherent, writhing and crying and feeling completely numb and like your entire body is burning all at once. 

and when you blink open your watery eyes at andrew, smile sweetly and reach out for a kiss, one that he happily gives you, you say it quietly.

“i love you, andrew.” and you feel his thrusts stutter, his body weight almost collapsing on you. you feel andrew cum, feel it filling you up while you listen to his quiet moans and run your hands over his tense muscles, saying sweet things that he can barely understand in this state. 

he rolls over minutes later, not pulling out until you were done kissing him. the room is filled with nothing but your heavy breaths. you need a shower, and you need to sleep.

you curl up on andrew’s chest like you had been on the couch what felt like a lifetime ago. you play with his fingers and he runs his other hand up and down the expanse of your arm. you can hear birds outside—and you know you need to get up soon, but you can’t find any words. 

“you think that was enough?” andrew asks, and you look up at him with a confused expression. he looks at you with so much sincerity you feel like crying. your andrew.

“what do you mean?” you ask quietly, still not sure what he’s even talking about. your head is spinning and your eyes are tired—every part of you is tired.

“we can go again after you get some sleep. it might take more than once.”

“andrew?”

“you don’t have to worry about it. i’ll figure it out. i won’t stop until i put a baby in you.”

♡ thank you for reading

[xtrashmammalstefx]

Anybody else see this and instantly want to be choked by him?....No? Just me?...

I would want to hunt you.

[xtrashmammalstefx]

Reblog to let your followers know that they’re safe from jumpscares/screamers/etc from you on April 1st but they are NOT safe from getting boop’d like an idiot amen

[xtrashmammalstefx]

Hi Stef. Regarding your requests, I would love some Austin x Reader fics where he falls for a Latina who's liked him for a long time and finally acknowledges her after revealing to him that she hasn't dated anyone because she's afraid to be heart broken.

Ask and you shall recieve...

Fire On Fire (An Austin Butler x Latina!Reader Smut!)

Warning: SMUT, CUSSING, THE WHOLE SHEBANG!

Notes: I will include translations either near the Spanish text or at the bottom, so don't y'all worry about that. @12joeywheelerfangirl I hope you love it and sorry it took a while for me to post. I wasn't having luck coming up with ideas for this until I heard this song by Sam Smith and then it was just smutty fun from there.

I couldn’t fucking believe what I was hearing. “Wuh-what?”

“I said I like you,” Gavin said nervously. “And I wanna take you out sometime.” When I first met Gavin on Bumble I thought maybe, just maybe, I finally made another friend. Someone I could talk to, besides Austin. We’d hung out a couple times and things were going pretty well… then he dropped the ‘L’ word. I suddenly felt that all too familiar brick wall build up around me.

“Look you’re a great guy and all but…”

“But?”

“But I’m not looking for romance,” I said. At least not with you. I added silently. “I just wanted more friends to hang with, and talk to… I’m sorry if I made you think differently.”

He didn’t say anything for a while, but then he sighed and took out his phone.

“What’re you doing?” I asked.

“Texting my buddy, Rich, to let him know I owe him a hundred bucks,” he said.

“Wait you betted on me?”

“Rich said you look like a prude but I said I could bed you within three dates,” he confessed. “Now thanks to you I’m out a hundred bucks… unless you wanna keep it casual?” He ran his hand along my thigh. I threw it away instantly.

“Fuck off!” I snapped at him feeling like I was gonna throw up my lunch. “God I thought you were different. But you’re just a sleeze bag like all the rest.”

His hand went flying across my face. A hot sting radiated through my cheek. Gavin was glaring at me now, and was suddenly hovering over me. “Please you think anyone else is gonna want you? Huh?? You ugly ass bi―!”

He was cut off by someone yanking him off of me. Austin stood there looking like he was gonna kill a motherfucker. Austin then reached back and swung his fist towards Gavin’s face. Gavin fell back. “GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE!”

“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!”

“Someone who’s willing to do anything to keep Y/N safe now back the fuck up and get out!” Gavin smirked standing up.

“I get it you just wanted someone to play with while you fucked this piece of―!” Austin then grabbed him by the neck and dragged him to the door.

“IF I CATCH YOU ANYWHERE NEAR Y/N I SWEAR IT’LL BE THE LAST FUCKING THING YOU DO!” Austin slammed the door and placed the locks in place. He then turned back to me and practically ran towards me. He sat down beside me on the sofa and wrapped his arms around me. “You okay baby?”

I nodded. “Estoy bien.”* Austin always had a way of making me comfortable enough to let my spanish out, even if he didn’t really understand me.

“The fuck was his problem anyway?” Austin asked drapping my legs over his lap.

“He asked me out,” I said. “And...and I said I didn’t want to…” Not with him. “Guess I dodged a bullet.”

“Yeah, yeah you did,” he said bringing his lips to my head. “You deserve better than that trash any day.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” I sighed.

“Y/N,” he got an all too familiar tone to his voice. One that let me know I fucked up, again. “I thought you were doing better with this...I can’t believe you’re still talking crap about yourself. It’s been years. We’re not in high school anymore… what other people say and think don’t mean shit...but what you say and think about yourself...it means everything.”

“You’re right Aus, but is it really such a crime that I don’t want to risk having my heart shattered? Is it that bad that I just wanna avoid getting hurt like that again and again?” Tears were bursting from my eyes then.

“You can’t possibly know that would happen,” Austin said.

“Yeah, yeah I do,” I sniffed. “Lo se porque niguno de ellos son tu!”* I cried. “No puedo enamorame con otro cuando estoy enamorada contigo, y nomas contigo!”*

“Y/N you’re rambling again,” Austin said cupping my face with his hands. “Breathe a bit and start over sugar.” I did. I swallowed deep breath after deep breath until my heart and lungs calmed down enough for me to think clearly about what I was gonna say. I never told Austin my feelings before, even though they’ve been there since ninth grade. I was always too afraid of screwing up what we have...and I was still afraid then, so I said nothing.

Instead I did something far far worse… I leaned in and crashed my lips onto his. Austin’s hands left my face and for a second I thought my worst fear had finally come. But...then I felt his arms wrap around my waist. He pulled me close against his body and deepened our kiss.

As Austin continued to meld our mouths together I suddenly found myself laying back on the sofa, pulling him on top of me. Austin pulled back and smiled at me. “By the way, I love you too, sugar.”

“You...you understood me?” He nodded. “Wha-? Since when?”

“I been teaching myself, and asking your family for help ever since tenth grade. After that son of a bitch Kent started showing interest in you.” He reached up and brushed my cheek with his fingers. “I remember I wanted to rip his head off. I was so irritated all the time whenever he came near you. When he asked you to winter formal...I knew… I knew why I couldn’t stand even the idea of you and him. So at your families Christmas party that year, I asked your dad if he could start teaching me spanish. He told your mom, and suddenly I was surrounded by teachers. Even now they test me to see if I remember.” Austin laughed.

“You learned spanish for me? And mami and papi never said…”

“I asked them not to ‘cause I wanted it to be surprise,” he said. “And I wanted to be able to surprise you with certain words.”

“What?”

“Te amo, Y/N,”* he whispered. “Y…”* He sighed. “Sorry if I butcher this a bit. I haven’t been practicing as often as I used to.” He said. “Uh… Quiero pasar mi vida contigo.”*

It wasn’t perfect spanish but it was perfect enough for me.I reached up and tangled my fingers with his hair as I brought his face down to mine. It was fire on fire after that.

Austin rut against me as his tongue tangled with mine. After a while he pulled back and attached his lips to my neck. A moan escaped my lips as he kissed and sucked at my flesh. The feeling reverberated through me leading my hands to the buttons on his shirt. As my fingers worked down the shirt one of his hand snaked up and gently squeezed at my breast. When the last button popped open my hand ran up the skin of his abs, over his chest, and up to his shoulders to push the fabric from him. He pulled back and shrugged it off, tossing it to the floor. I lifted my arms and let him lift my shirt over my head. Once it was gone I sat up and brought my lips to his chest.

As I kissed and licked at his pecks, giving extra love to the skin above his heart, he reached behind me and unclasped my bra. “So fucking beautiful,” Austin muttered lustfully. I smirked and continued laying a trail of kisses on his body, stopping at just above the waistband of his pants. I unbuckled his belt as my mouth began to water at thought of what it held. I popped the button and pulled down the zipper almost impatiently. Austin stood up and pulled his pants down taking his boxer briefs with it. All that rutting he did clearly worked it’s magic for he sprang out hard and thicker than I thought he would be, smacking his belly.

I reached out and wrapped my hand around his length. I tugged at him for a while before leaning in. I licked at the beads of precum on his tip and gave it a slight kiss before sliding him into my mouth. Austin trembled and let out a slight growled tangling his fingers in my hair while thrusting gently. As I sucked him off the most beautiful noises left his mouth, almost musical. I think he would’ve completely lost his mind had he not pushed me back.

“Your turn sugar,” he said huskily. He got down on his knees and reached to pulled my leggings down, taking my panties with them. He tossed them aside and brought my hips closer to the edge of the couch. He placed my legs over his shoulders, licked his already swelling lips, and leaned down.

A hiss left me as his lips connected with my core. In that moment as his tongue continued to lick and flick at my clit I couldn’t help but think: Is there anything he’s not mind-blowing at?! Moans escaped my lips that made Austin chuckle, his breath hitting me at my most sensative parts.

“Damn I fucking love those sounds you make,” he said. “Can’t wait to hear what comes when I’m inside you.”

He gave my clit one more kiss before he stood up. I readjusted, laying down once again. Austin laid down on top of me wrapping my legs around his waist. His tip ghosted at my entrance sending an ache through me. An ache that could only be cured one way.

As if reading my mind he reached down, placed his lip at my opening and slowly started to push in. As he stretched me bit by bit I clung to him, damn near digging my nails into his back. “Fuck!”

“You’re so tight baby,” he muttered. “Is… is this..?”

“Woulda thought that was obvious,” I said as he continued to push further in. “Never actually- gah fuck- dated anyone before this…”

He finally bottomed out then. “I’ll go slow for you. You just tell me when you want me to really get goin’.” I nodded and he started to thrust slowly and gently. It stung at first but as he continued to move inside me it started feel more and more remarkable. I started moaning again.

“Fuh-faster… I need you to go faster...and huh-harder.”

“Okay,” Austin kissed me once more. “Okay.”

He pulled back and slammed into me, a loud smack emanating from his balls hitting me. The feeling that replaced the sting only grew stronger...more fierce. “OH FUCK AUS!”

“You take me so well sugar,” he moaned taking my hand and placing it on my stomach. A bulge hit my palm repeatedly from inside. “See? I’m getting’ way in there.” He shifted slightly and hit me on a different spot, one that had me screaming. “Like it there? Like it when I fuck you right in that spot?”

“Y-YES, GOD, FUCK YES!” He continued to thrust into that spot which made the tension building in my middle grow more and more. My toes started to curl and my back started to arch. “God I’m gonna...I’m gonna.”

I let go not even a second later, covering him in my juices. Austin was more slippery now and was growing more erratic with his thrusting. “You came all over me darlin’,” he said. “Now I think it’s my turn to come all over you.”

He moaned louder and louder as he began shuttered on top of me.

“Oh fuck I’m gonna cum so hard,” he groaned before pulling out and exploding all over me, covering me in his seed. He continued to moan as he tugged every last drop out of his body. He collapsed on top of me and kissed my swollen lips. “I love you so much, Y/N.”

“I love you too,” I whispered, both of us completely breathless.

Our fire continued to burn after that, with constant repeats of that moment (except in a bed, and with Austin finishing in and on different places) and Austin continued his spanish lessons with my family. The latest phrase he learned? “Casate conmigo?”*

I smiled and nodded crazily. He slipped on his mom’s engagement ring and kissed me hard. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too,” I said before deciding to give him my own spanish lesson. “By the way,” I brought my lips to his ear. “Estoy embarazada.”*

“What’s that mean?” He asked looking at me confused.

“Why don’t you ask papi to translate that… I’m pretty sure you’re gonna love what it means.” He did and our fire burned on.

TRANSLATION: *I'm fine.

*I know because none of them are you!

*I can't fall in love with someone else when I'm in love with you, and only you!

*I love you.

*And...

*I want to spend my life with you.

*Marry me?

*I'm pregnant.

[xtrashmammalstefx]

All Shook Up! (An Austin Butler x Reader SMUT!)

WARNING: SMUT, LANGUAGE, minors dni

Notes: SURPRISE MOTHERFUCKA! I know I've been gone for a while but in all fairness this summer just sucked balls and I'm just now getting back in the proper headspace to write/post. Idk what I'll write next but I promise there will be more stories coming. Anywhore I'll shut up now. Enjoy!!

PS: This is technically a sequel to Chaos Monster & Her English Gent but I think it can be read on its own. Okay shutting up for real now.

Sometimes my heart can be the stupidest piece of shit ever. It’s been weeks since that day in Callum’s dressing room, and only days since filming wrapped for the season. Callum’s been blowing up my phone constantly and Austin was now home for the time being until he had to go film his next project.

The day my heart fucked me over was one of those miraculous days when both Austin and I had the day off. Austin was spending it reading a new script, while I was just doing my best to relax.

Hello darling.

I chuckled and answered back.

Hey.

Bored already?

No.

I’m just missing my special girl is all.

I rolled my eyes just as the next text came through.

Send me a pic?

Doesn’t necessarily have to be sexual.

I just wanna see your pretty face.

“What you laughin’ at Priscilla?” Austin asked distracting me from my phone. He was in the arm chair looking at me; his script laying on his lap.

“Nothin. Just your boy being a fucking idiot,” I semi-lied. Austin still didn’t know about Callum and me...and if I was being honest I wasn’t too sure about Callum and me either. I’ve been accused of being too hasty with other things before and a part of me feared I was being to hasty with this too. Needing immediate distraction I raised my phone (camera on) and aimed it at Austin. “Smile baby.”

Austin looked up from his script and smiled without questioning it. I took the photo and sent it to Callum. “Do I even want to know what you’re doin’ over there babe?”

“Callum asked for a pic, but as you can see I currently look like shit,” I motioned at my messy bun (didn’t exactly feel like brushing out my hair that day), make-upless face, and bespectacled eyes.

“Darlin’ I hate to break it to you but never since I have known you have you looked like shit,” Austin said. Just then another message came through.

Sexy but you know that’s not what

I meant.

“Why does he want a pic anyway?” Austin asked.

I shrugged. “I think he just misses our stupid faces.

“Mm… I think it might be more than that sweetheart,” Austin said tossing his script onto the coffee table. “I saw the way he kept lookin’ at you on set. He looked at you like you were the finest piece of meat this side of the Atlantic. Which ain’t totally off base if I say so myself.” I scoffed at the idea but Austin continued to look serious. “You’re the most beautiful girl I know. It’s a shame that you don’t see it because I see it very clearly.”

I sighed and tossed my phone onto the coffee table before getting up and darting towards Austin. I sat down on his lap and cuddled into him. Austin chuckled deeply and wrapped his arms around me. Austin always gives the best hugs. “We really need to have more days like this.”

“Like what?” Austin asked resting his cheek on my head.

“Like this. Just you and me...like we’re the only ones in the world. Like nothing else matters as long as we’re both here, together, for forever…” It was then I felt Austin’s lips pressed themselves on my forehead.

“You’re already my whole world Y/N,” he muttered.

“And you’re mine,” I whispered pressing my lips against his cheek. It was something I had done many times throughout our friendship but this time… it felt different. This time he trembled at my touch. “You okay?”

He nodded. “Just all shook up I guess.”

“You fuckin’ dork,” I laughed before he was suddenly pulling me in. His lips enveloped mine sending a tingle up my spine. I know I should’ve pulled away...told him about Callum and hoped for the best but… I don’t know. For some reason I just… I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop.

But I guess something else wanted it to end.

Ding dong.

Austin pulled back and sighed. “That would be our UberEats.” He carried me back to the sofa and sat me down before going to answer the door. Normally Austin would gladly cook for us but we both agreed that on that day we were feeling exceptionally lazy.

We didn’t really say anything as we had our Thai dinner. Just snuck glances at each other every now and then. At one point I think it became a little too much for him to handle for he swiped the box of Mango Sticky Rice I had started to dig in to. “Give it back.”

“Hell nah, not until you get talkin’.” Austin said continuing to hold the rice hostage.

“I am talking,” I said. “Give. It. Back.”

“Or. What? Sugar.” He smirked pushing my final button. I dropped my chopsticks and pounced on him.

“Fucking give me the rice!” I snapped at him trying to reach for my rice which he now held above his head.

“Not until we talk about what happened earlier,” he said.

“God dammit Austin, it wasn’t rocket science, it should be obvious why we―.”

“Stop…”

“What? I thought you wanted me to…”

“No, I mean stop grindin’ on me,” he said making me realize that as I had been trying to get my rice back, I was simultaneous rubbing myself on his clothed crotch causing him to stiffen.

“Okay, needless to say that is your fault,” I said freezing on top of him.

“How the hell is that my fault?” he asked. “I didn’t ask you to grind on me.”

“No, but you stole my rice,” I pointed out before carefully standing up. “So… what now?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I know I want this, but I can’t decide for you,” he said before slowly standing up. “So until you know for sure if what you felt was as real as what I’ve been feelin’ every day since we met, I’m gonna have to handle this with a cold shower.”

He left the kitchen soon after leaving me be for a few minutes. I was suddenly not hungry for rice or anything on the table so after a moment I stood up and started towards my room needing to just collapse for a bit.

As I approached the door though, Austin left his room wearing nothing but a towel around his hips. “Oh, uh, sorry, I forgot my new body wash in the shopping bag.” He continued towards the bathroom and left his body wash on the counter before turning back to face me. “Is-uh-there something you wanna talk about?” He asked noticing my transfixed stare. He’d been spending his off time these last few months and his current off day to do a little extra working out for his new role and damn did it show. His abs were more defined, and his ass more perked and firm. “Y/N? You okay darlin’?”

“Uh-um-yeah,” I said. “I’m fine….I’m…” He approached me and placed his hand on my shoulder.

“You sure?” I was suddenly filled with a different, much stronger, hunger. It had me practically screaming inside while outside it only had me placing my hand on his chest. “Y/N?” I reached up and connected my lips with his. His body froze at my touch for only a moment before he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me back. He pressed me against the nearby wall and let his lips fall to my neck. As he kissed and suck on my flesh I reached down and yanked at his towel, making it fall to his feet. I wrapped my hand around his length and gasped at the feeling of his size. He wasn’t too long but girthy as holy fuck. I tugged on him gently earning a growl like sound in return. I chuckled.

“You really are all shook up aren’t you Elvis?”

“Oh fuck yeah I am Priscilla,” he said before placing his hands on my legs and picking me up. “Fuck yeah I am.” I wrapped my legs around him and let him carry me to my bed.

He laid us down and reached to pull off my shirt. He peppered kisses all over my body as he rid me of my lazy-day clothes. Once my panties were gone he placed my legs on his shoulders and brought his lips to my core. I moaned louder than I ever had, earning a chuckle from Austin before he continued to suck and lick me until I was nice and slick. “I wasn’t there yet you jerk,” I groaned as he climbed back up.

“Relax darlin’, I’m just getting started,” He smirked before reaching down and giving himself a tug before placing himself at my entrance. Just the feeling of it there made my body tremble. “Like it?” I nodded. “Want it inside you?” I nodded again. “Okay then…” He thrust his lips sliding the tip inside me.

“Holy fucking shit!” I hissed.

“So tight sugar,” he groaned pushing in further. Tears filled my eyes as he continued to stretch me. “I ain’t hurtin’ ya too bad am I?” I shook my head. “Good, I’ll try not to but feel free to hit me if I do.”

“Just fuck me already Aus,” I muttered. He leaned down and kissed me deeply before bottoming out and pulling back again. He kept his pace slow and gentle while I grew use to him. I pecked his lips and held him so our bodies were pressed together. As he continued moving inside me I snaked my hand down his back and squeezed his ass. I was right, it was pretty damn firm.

“God you drive wild,” Austin chuckled.

“How wild?” I asked.

“Want me to answer or would you rather I just―.” He thrust into me harder. “Show you.” He started moving his hips faster making my back arch.

“Oh fuck!” I screamed as he continued to thrust into me like his life depended on it. After a while he kissed me again and brought his lips to my ear.

“You wanna ride me?” I nodded eagerly. He wrapped his arms around me and flipped us over so that I was on top. I moved my hips rough and fast. It was like my whole being was just feral for him. “Holy shit you’re so fucking good at that.” Austin moaned thrusting up into me as I continued to ride him. As he did he brought his fingers to my clit and started rubbing me. That’s when the pressure began to build up inside me. “You gonna cum sugar?” I groaned and nodded. “That’s alright just come right on me. There you go baby.”

My whole body froze as a shiver ran down my spine. I was damn near screaming as I tightened around him, damn near squeezing the life out of his cock. I had just started coming down from my high, still partially blinded by the mind-blowing orgasm, when Austin wrapped his arms around me again and flipped us so I was on the bed once again.

“God you’re so fucking tight around me,” he groaned as he continued to thrust into me, only a little sloppier this time. “Gah fuck I’m gonna cum!” He moaned more and more as he started getting close. “Wuh-Where do you want it?”

“In...Inside...Inside me.” I said still breathless.

“You- You sure about that sugar?” He asked growing more and more spastic.

“Yes, god yes… fuck a baby into me Aus…” No sooner had I said that that I felt him twitch inside me. A rainbow of curses left his mouth as his body shuttered to a stop. He collapsed on top of me and gave me a final kiss on my now swollen lips.

“I fucking love you Y/N,” he said. “I love you more than words can say.”

I ran my fingers through his curls. “I love you too, Aus.”

He smiled and reached down to pull himself out of me. I hissed a bit when he did feeling a bit of a sting. “Sorry sugar.”

“It’s alright,” I assured him. He moved to lay down beside me and when he did I snuggled up to him. I fell asleep listening to the sound of his heart.

[xtrashmammalstefx]

FUCKING BABE! FUCK! WHAT THE FUCK!?!? 🥵

This is now my entire personality

[xtrashmammalstefx]

Why did this make me slam my knees on the ground with my mouth wide open for his royal cock? 🥵🥵🥵🥵

PEDRO PASCAL as GENERAL MARCUS ACACIUS Gladiator II | Official Trailer

[xtrashmammalstefx]

This literally has me on my knees like...

First look at Pedro Pascal in Gladiator 2

[xtrashmammalstefx]

For me, since July is my birth month (July 5th baby!) It's usually a time of reflection and a nice reminder that 14 years after my second attempt at unaliving myself I've managed to survive another year. July is the month I remember that I am stronger than the world led me to believe I was. So welcome July. Let's make this a good one. Shall we? 😉🎂

on july

allie ray holler \ charlotte brontë jane eyre \ charlotte eriksson \ eileen miles hot night \ barbara kingsolver barbara kingsolver \ franz kafka diaries of franz kafka, 1914-1923: “july 16, 1912″ \ gurpiar sidhu \ czesław miłosz new and collected poems: 1931-2001: “a magic mountain” (tr. czesław miłosz) (via @soracities​) \ rick bass the wild marsh: four seasons at home in montana

buy my chai latte because i spent way too much money on them this week x

[xtrashmammalstefx]

Okay but like they want me—(I’m not delusional)

[xtrashmammalstefx]

Chaos Monster & Her English Gent (A Callum Turner x Reader Smut)

Warnings: Smut, language, kiddos under 18 do not interact!

Notes: When I said I've become a total slut for this man and his bf Austin I wasn't fucking around. Lemme know if y'all want an Austin smut/sequel because I totes have some ideas I think you'll like.

Looking back I don’t think any of us expected this to happened. I certainly didn’t and I was the one who had the most to lose if things had gone sour rather than go the way they did.

I’m getting ahead of myself though so I’ll just start where this whole mess began: the first time I visited Austin on the Masters of the Air set. I’d sneaked up behind Austin, my best friend for life and possibly longer, as he was talking to a rather handsome man with the most unimaginably contagious smile. I put my finger to my lips once he’d seen me and jumped onto Austin’s back. “’Sup Elvis!”

“PRISCILLA?! FUCK!” Austin turned and scooped me up. “YOU SCARED THE SHIT OUTTA ME BABE!”

I laughed and squeezed him back. “Well that’s what you get for taking for fucking ever to return my texts you ass!”

“Sorry ‘bout that sweetheart but duty called a hell lot more than I thought it would,” he said once I was back on the ground. “Oh,” he turned back to the smiling man. “By the way, Callum this is my best girl, Y/N, Y/N this is my new best friend Callum.”

“Nice to meet you my handsome replacement,” I said.

Callum smiled nearly bringing out a giggle from deep inside me. Fuck, he is good. “Pleasure’s all mine love, and I am definitely not replacing you. You’re more beautiful than I will ever be.”

Struck dumb by his buttery smooth British accent and killer icebreaker I turned to Austin. “He is a hell of a keeper.”

“Yeah I think so too,” Austin laughed. “So how long are you staying?”

“I’ve taken a week off work so I’m gonna be yours until about Sunday,” I said.

“Oh sweet. Can’t wait to show you off to the rest of the boys, they’re gonna love you,” Austin said as we started towards a couple other guys in period attire.

“Only until they get to know me,” I said. “Let’s see how they react once they see the true chaos monster you know and love.”

“Well, this is gonna be a right interesting week,” Callum said walking on the other side of me.

Of course he wasn’t wrong about that. The next few days were filled with me and Austin being a chaotic duo in front of his cast mates who were also quite chaotic themselves. I’m not sure how or when it started happening but whenever Austin was away either in costume or make-up, Callum and I started to talk. Barry would sometimes be there but most of the time it was just us.

“I’m really gonna miss having you around,” Callum said two days before I was due to leave. We were in his trailer. Austin was busy talking with his manager so I figured I’d bug Callum for a bit. He was changing out of his costume and into civilian wear while I hung out in his make up chair.

“You act as if you don’t have my number and social medias,” I said. “I’m heading home, not dying.”

“Well, talking with you on a phone or in DM’s isn’t exactly the same as having you here,” Callum continued.

“What can you possibly say that can’t be said over the phone?”

“It’s not what I wish to say but rather what I wish to do that can’t be done over a phone call,” he said starting towards me wearing nothing but his boxer briefs which left little to nothing to the imagination.

“And what exactly is it that you wish to do good sir?”

He smirked and started leaning down. “This,” his lips connected with mine. His plump lips were soft and warm as he kissed me. It wasn’t enough to send me off the edge and before I knew it I had my arms around him letting him carry me to the small couch. Once there he pulled back and brought his lips down to my neck. As he left what I was sure was gonna be a massive hickey I reached down and started palming him through his underwear. He groaned at the feeling, his body trembling on top of mine.

“I’m a bit overdressed don’t you think?” I breathed. He smiled and sat up. I reached down and lifted my shirt over my head. He took it from me and tossed it to the side before reaching for the zipper and button on my pants. Not even a minute later I was fully bare in front of him.

“God you’re so beautiful,” he whispered pecking me on the mouth. “So. Fucking. Beautiful.” As he started to kiss me again I nudged at his briefs, doing my best to get them off. Callum got the hint though and pulled them off tossing them with my clothes. I think he could see how big my eyes got at the sight of him for he chuckled softly and said, “Like what you see, darling?”

I had no idea how to answer. If I’d though he was big when flaccid it was nothing compared to how endowed he was when he was hard.

I looked from his crotch up to his face as he continued to look at me quizzically with that smile that didn’t seem to go away. “C’mere,” I said moving from the couch to the floor beside it. He laid himself on top of me sending a shiver through me as his dick brushed my folds, ghosting my entrance. He reached down, gave himself a tug and placed himself there.

“Okay, love?” he asked. I nodded and just like that he was inside me. I clung to him as my body got use to the stretch. Callum cussed a rainbow of curse words in my ear as I enveloped him. His thrusting began soon after.

Turns out Callum is a gentleman in every sense of the word. He kept his movements slow at first, not daring to go faster or harder without my say so. Once the stinging subsided I brought my mouth to his, kissing him harder before telling him, “Harder… I need you to go harder.” With that he picked up the pace, almost slamming completely into me. “FUCK!”

“You’re taking me so well darling, fuck!!” He took me into his arms and slowly lifted me up, still thrusting into me. I held onto him moving up and down as he sat back. I rode him like that for a while until he lied completely back, putting me in charge for a bit.

As I moved my body conscious of the fact that I could see a small bump pulsating in my lower stomach, Callum reached down and started rubbing me with his long fingers. I bit back a scream at the feeling but let him keep playing with clit. It made me feel alive in a way I couldn’t put into words and before I knew it I was riding him like my life depended on it.

We continued like that until I began to feel the pressure build up inside me. “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum!”

“It’s alright, darling, just...just let go on my cock,” he said grabbing my ass and slamming me harder on his length. The pressure continued to grow more intense, until finally I was screaming and tightening around him. As I remained clamped down on his length Callum wrapped his arms around me and flipped us back over so that he was on top.

He continued to thrust as I came down from the most mind boggling orgasm of my life. I was still seeing stars when Callum’s thrusts became sloppy. Suddenly the gentle boy I’d been falling for became beastly, almost roaring as he twitched inside me, filling me up until there wasn’t a single drop left in him.

My body was still shaking, my cunt throbbing, as he pulled out and collapsed beside me.

“That was… incredible...magical even…”

“It was the best damn shag of my life,” Callum said breathless making me giggle. I turned my body to face him and cringed at the soreness between my legs. “You alright love?”

“Mentally and emotionally speaking I’m fucking great,” I said. “Physically speaking...fuck… Callum, I love you with every fiber of my being and will gladly do this again and again with you but god damn I think you just about broke me in half.”

He laughed at that and kissed my now swollen lips. “So, you agree then? To be my girlfriend I mean.”

I looked up at him and smiled. “I’m pretty sure I’m more than that. I mean, I did just say I love you, and lord knows those are words I don’t say to just anybody.”

“Just to the lad who shags your brains out?” I slapped him playfully on his chest. “Only joking darling. I love you too, and I don’t say those words to just anybody either.”

“Just to the girl that rode you and milked you for every last drop of cum in your body?”

“Actually, I believe I just said them to the girl I want to marry.”

“Quite the fast one aren’t you?”

“Only when I know deep down in my bloody heart and bones that I don’t want to do this with anyone else,” he said.

“Alright, but there’s something we gotta do first… Something pretty damn risky.” He looked at me questioningly.

“And that is?”

I looked up and smiled nervously. “We gotta tell Austin.”

“OH FUCK!”

[xtrashmammalstefx]

Okay so I've become a SLUT for Austin Butler and Callum Turner and I am NOT OKAY!!!

Like I seriously had plans for fics about other men but God fucking dammit if my mind isn't stuck on these two fuckos!!

I MEAN LOOK AT THIS☝🏻

AND THIS!! ☝🏻

THE FUCKING AUDACITY OF THE TWO!! WHO TOLD THEM SMILING AT US LIKE THAT WAS OKAY?! LIKE EXCUSE ME SIRS I DID NOT ASK TO BE MURDERED THIS WAY!!!

And don't even get me started on their fucking bodies is2g!! *SCREAMS INTO PILLOW *

Anyway do not be surprised if my next posts are nothing but smut and/or fluff with these two. I seriously can't even thinking of writing about anyone else rn.

And if y'all have requests: PLEASE BY ALL MEANS ASK ME!

Thank you for coming to my severely horny TEDTalk. 🥵😍💦🩷🩷

[xtrashmammalstefx]

Pobre Hermosa (A Fanboy x Plus Size Latina Reader x Hangman SMUT!)

Warnings: SMUT, LANGUAGE

Translations: Title- Poor Beauty, Hijo de la...- Son of a..., HIJO DE LA CHINGADA!- SON OF A FUCK!, Perdoname querida- Sorry sweetheart, Lo sentiste?- Did you feel it?, Lo sentí- I felt it, Que hermosa- how beautiful, Te gusta?- Do you like it?, Lo quieres?- Do you want it?, El infierno de amor- The fire of love, Te amo- I love you, Que?- What?, Te amo tambien- I love you too, QUE CHINGADO HACES?- WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?, No estoy enohada contigo, pero tengo que hablar con mi pendejo de hijo- I'm not mad at you but I need to have a word with my fucking idiot of a son, Que pasa?- What's up?, Mi vida- My life.

Notes: Never has writing a smut been so damn difficult simply cuz like the whore I am I'm thirsting over more than one man in the same movie. Nevertheless I finally got this shit done, and now that my creative muscle is working again I plan on posting more, including a possible New Years Resolution post but that is still up in the air for now. Anyway, enjoy!

Many people believe that perfection is only a concept of ones mind. That what’s perfect to you may not be perfect to others. I think whoever first came up with that clearly never met Mickey. Or maybe they did and only managed to see him as he saw himself. A man that always needs to work hard to be acceptable to others. The thing that bugged the absolute hell out of me and that I desperately wished he’d stop doing. I just want him see himself as I do… as I always have.

We were sixteen the first time it became a real problem.

“What the fuck happened to you?” he looked at me in horror when I showed up on his doorstep with a cut on the corner of my forehead.

“Dexter threw a rock at my head,” I said. Dexter was our school’s biggest slease bag. He’d pick a girl and obsess over her until she finally caved and gave him what he wanted. This weeks girl just so happened to be me. I wasn’t caving in though, never in hell, and he was fucking hating it. So much so that when I passed him and his goons on the way to Mickey’s and didn’t give him any sort of attention, he called my name and threw a golf ball sized rock at my head as soon as I (stupidly) turned.

“Hijo de la… come on in,” Mickey stepped aside and I brushed passed him. I shrugged off my hoodie and hung it in the small closet. I had just started making my way to the kitchen for some ice when Mickey grabbed my hand and led me to the bathroom. “On the counter hermosa.” He said as he dug out the first aid kit from under the sink. I hopped onto the counter next to the sink.

“Where’s mama? And Papi?”

“Mama’s visiting a friend, and Papi got called in to work overtime.” Mickey explained as he dug out a bandage and disinfectant from the kit. He dabbed some of the disinfectant onto a cotton ball. “Now hold still, this might sting a bit.”

Sure enough the second the cotton ball touched the cut a fierce burn shot through me. “HIJO DE LA CHINGADA!” Mickey chuckled, and blew on it.

“Perdoname querida but I did warn you,” he whispered placing the bandage on my head. He then leaned in and kissed it. “Better?”

I nodded. “Thanks.” I pecked him on the cheek… or at least I would have had he not turned his head just right to throw the cotton ball and bandage wrapper into the nearby trash. My lips crash into his stunning both of us. We jolted back as if struck by a spark of electricity. “Uh...sorry I-I didn’t mean to―.”

“Lo sentiste?” he asked. I looked at him confused. “Did you feel it?” He asked again kneeling closer to me. I nodded somehow knowing what he meant.

“Lo sentí,” I whispered. “Lo sentí.” His lips found mine again, only this time...we didn’t stop.

Up until then I’d been a virgin, and so had Mickey as far as I knew. He continued to kiss me passionately as our hands began to explore each other. Mickey wasn’t completely ripped from head-to-toe just yet but his body was still pretty solid and smooth as I snaked my hand up his shirt. He groaned and trembled before shrugging off his shirt. I brought my lips to his chest and kissed the skin above his heart. After a while he placed his hands on my shoulders and gently pushed me back. I looked up at him completely drunk off both of our energy. He brought his hands down to the hem of my Selena tank top. I lifted my arms and let him take it off. He kissed me hard and snaked his arms around me to unhook my bra. I’d never been so exposed to him before.

“Que hermosa,” Mickey whispered before taking one of my breasts into his mouth. I moaned as he sucked on and played with my nipple. I tangled my fingers into his dark curls and began to grind my body against his. The fire inside us grew hotter with no end in sight. Suddenly very eager I reached down and undid the button on my shorts. Mickey unzipped them and pulled them off of me, tossing them aside. His joined them soon after and dios mio was the sight stunning. “Te gusta?” He asked catching me eyeing his size.

Aesthetic wise he was pleasing to look at. Shaved, smooth, and just a little darker than his skin. His length and width were enough to make my mouth water. I looked up at him and nodded bringing my lips back to his.

I could feel him brush against me and it send a tremble through my body. Mickey felt this and pulled back. “Lo quieres?” I nodded again loving the feeling of him just rubbing against me. Mickey licked his lips and reached down lining himself up with my entrance. I didn’t know how my body would react to him but as soon as he began to stretch me I clung on to him… It was as if my body needed him, and the fire within it only grew more and more uncontrollable. El infierno de amor, I thought to myself and even now still fight back a laugh at how much like a telenovella it sounds.

Mickey wrapped his arms around me and held me close as he started thrusting. The feeling of Mickey slipping in and out of me was something I knew my body and soul would never forget.

Time didn’t exist in that bathroom. At least not while we were together. No, for the longest time it was just us, our moans, our heartbeats, our kisses, and the drumming our skin coming together. The fire continued to burn, tensing up my core until, eventually… I screamed, my toes curled, my back arched, and I could feel myself tighten around him. A moment later my head fell against his shoulder as my body began to relax. Mickey continued to move until he tensed up and cursing at the top of his lungs, erupted inside me. He dropped his head to my shoulder as he struggled to catch his breath.

“Te amo,” he muttered.

“Que?” He lifted his head to look at me.

“Te amo,” he said.

“Te amo tambien,” I said and was about to lean in for another kiss when…

“MICKEY GARCIA QUE CHINGADO HACES?!” His mom was standing in the doorway looking way beyond pissed. We broke apart then and rushed back into our clothes.

“Amá I can explain,” Mickey started.

“I am so so sorry Mama,” I jumped in ready to get down on my knees to beg for forgiveness before she could whip out the chancla. Mama threw her hands up to shut us up.

“Y/N, please go home, no estoy enohada contigo, pero tengo que hablar con mi pendejo de hijo.” When mama starts ranting in spanish that was usually the cue for me (or anyone really) to get the fuck out and dodge.

“Okay,” I turned to Mickey. “Um, see you at school.”

I left and spent the rest of the day in a daze.

The next day I met up with him in the hallway. I was still on cloud nine (and slightly sore) and I thought he might be too, but when I saw his face something felt...off. “Hey.”

“Um, hey,” he said nervously.

“I hope mama didn’t chew out too bad,” I said trying to lighten the mood.

“I’m actually grounded for a week and Papi wound up giving me the talk.” I cringed so hard for him.

“I am so so sorry Mickey,” I said.

“It’s not entirely your fault,” he said. Still I took his hand in mine and started to reach up for a kiss when he pulled away. “Um, we’re about to be late and I really don’t wanna add detention to my list of punishments.”

“Uh, okay,” I said and watched dumbfounded as he bolted away from me. “The fuck just happened?” I asked myself… Years passed and I still didn’t have an answer.

We never kissed after that, much less make love. For some reason Mickey acted as though nothing had ever happened between us. Like we were still just the two best friends we’d been before. It killed me but eventually I was fine with just having him in my life.

After high school Mickey joined the Navy. To calm his mom and dad I went and stayed with him while he got settled in at the academy. I was supposed to go to school in Phoenix but both Mickey and I found it was impossible to say goodbye and (much to the chagrin of my parents) I wound up staying with Mickey for good and watched as he busted his ass in the academy and then graduated from Top Gun training.

Eventually he got grouped with other pilots who quickly became our second family.

“Oh fuck me!” Jake exclaimed the second I removed my towel. Everyone was gathered on the beach for an impromptu football game. They had a hell of a mission ahead of them and their leader, Maverick, felt they needed a moment of fun.

“Is there a problem Hangman?” I asked.

“Oh not at all,” He said smiling his infectious cocky cock smile.

“Then why the drool?” I teased.

“You, my darling, are one hot piece of ass,” he said. “Fanboy your girlfriend’s a hottie! God damn!”

“Easy there Hangman, her bite is way more scary than her bark,” Mickey said.

“Oh you can bite me any time, darling,” Jake said with a wink before tossing Maverick the ball. I rolled my eyes and went to join my team.

The game started off as cheesy as it possibly could with the guys doing what they do best… being guys. At least Mickey did his best to cover my ass when someone would throw me the ball. At one point he managed to do it too well.

“Oh shit!” He lost his balance as he tried (and failed) run backwards to cover me. Before I could react he was crashing into me knocking us both to the ground. “Oof!” The wind was knocked out of both of us but not too severely. “You okay hermosa?”

I nodded. “I’m okay, you?” He continued to look at me concerned.

“I’m fine.”

“Good,” I reached up and pecked him on the lips, ‘cause we just won this bitch!”

I sat up and held the ball up making my team hoot and holler in victory. Each of my team mates gave me a victory hug before I finally turned to Mickey. I wrapped my arms around him but like he did back then he tensed up. He hugged me quickly then walked away towards the cooler full of beer. I actually felt an ache in my chest, and for a while I didn’t think anyone noticed.

“The fuck was that?” Jake asked now standing beside me.

“The fuck was what?”

“Fanboy normally treats you like you’re his world, and then you give him a sweet little peck and he acts as though you just insulted his mother.”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” I muttered.

“Seriously?” Jake arched his eyebrow at me incredulously. A tear slid down my cheek and I knew it was time to go. I wiped the tear away and went to get my things. “Where you going?”

“Somewhere less crowded,” I said starting towards the beach exit. Mickey had driven us that day so I had no choice but to walk; thankfully walking tended to clear my mind. I had just reached our street when my phone buzzed.

Mickey: Hey where u at?

Feeling my throat close up I ignored the text and shoved my phone back into my shorts pocket. That’s when a familiar car pulled up beside me. “Need a ride?” Jake asked poking his head out of the drivers side window.

“Our place is just a couple houses down,” I said.

“I know but I was thinking of taking you somewhere better,” he said.

“Better than my bedroom with a plate of enchiladas and cookie dough ice cream?” I questioned.

“Oh yeah, way better,” he smiled. The scene at the beach replayed itself in my head and the ache started coming back. I sighed and shrugged before going around and hopping into the passenger seat.

He drove us passed my neighborhood and to Jorge’s Carneceria. I thought we were going to go in but Jake just made a b-line for the drivethru. “I’ll have a carne asada burrito, a plate of roll-tacos, a large coke, and uh,” Jake turned to me. “What would like babe?”

“I’ll have the chicken enchiladas and a large Dr. Pepper,” I told the intercom.

“Will that be all?” The worker asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Jake said. Once we collected our food Jake drove on until we reached a small house at the end of a culdesac. “Home sweet home.”

“Your place? That’s the somewhere better?”

“Have faith sweetheart,” Jake smiled leading the way inside. We ate in silence while marathoning The Haunting of Hill House (Jake let me pick). It was easy being with Jake, almost too easy.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” I blurted out during the third episode. “I mean you’ve never acknowledged me before except to annoy or joke around.” Jake paused the show and sighed.

“Honestly? I fucking hate it when a beautiful, obvious kind, woman is treated like shit. Even moreso when it’s for no fucking reason, and it leads to said woman feeling the need to hide away from everybody.”

“I, I wasn’t hiding from...and I am nowhere close to being beautiful—.”

“Bullshit, Y/N,” Jake said. “You are one of the hottest chicks on this base. Look at you.” I felt my face warm up as my arms reflexibly folded to cover my stomach and thighs. “And you’re so kind and sweet it makes you even more gorgeous. Any man would be lucky as hell to be with you and I, honestly, can’t believe Fanboy is being such a fucking idiot and taking all of that for granted.”

I rolled my eyes. “I bet you say that to all the girls on base.”

“No, I don’t. Not even to Phoenix but that’s mostly because either she or Rooster can shoot me out of the air at any given moment and uh, I’d rather live thank you very much.” I chuckled at that and resumed the show.

Finally the sun dipped down completely letting night take over. I still wasn’t sure I was ready to go home though. I think my face might have betrayed me and showed that doubt to Jake. “You know you can stay the night if you want. Give you more time to decompress and cool down before facing the jackass tomorrow morning.”

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna impose…?”

“None of that now, you are more than welcome darling,” Jake said before standing up and stretching his arms out before turning back to me. “Um I’m gonna head to the shower real quick we can set you up when I’m done.”

“Okay,” I said watching him disappear down the hall. Not even a second later a familiar ringtone played gently from my phone.

No te has ido de mi vida, vida mía, pero ya te extraño

Quién diría, nadie lo creía, y ya vamos pa' un año

De solo pensar en perderte

Las milésimas se vuelven horas

Contigo yo me voy a muerte

Y mucho más cuando estamos a solas

Cuando nos falle la memoria y solo queden las fotografías

Que se me olvide todo menos que tú eres mía

I sighed and answered. “Que pasa?”

“Where are you? I’ve been going loco texting you but you never replied.” Mickey said sounding like he’d been about to call the police had I not answered.

“Having a Netflix night with a friend,” I said. “Is that all?”

“No, how come you disappeared earlier? We were all about to go for a drink at the Hard Deck but when I looked around you were gone.”

“And how long did it take you to notice?” Mickey sighed.

“Look I know I was kind of cold earlier,” he said.

“You’re cold every time I try to come near you, Mickey. Every time I wanna hold your hand, give you a hug, hell even when I give you a simple kiss! You, you push me away. I mean… Am I doing something wrong? Do you… do you regret that day we had in the bathroom or..?”

“I’m sorry I made you feel like this is your fault when it was actually mine. I don’t regret that day, or any day I’ve spent with you… Remember when I said my dad gave me the talk?”

“Yeah?”

“Well it wasn’t just that talk. He also lectured me about my future, and the Navy. How he’d seen many a soldier find someone, plan a future… only for it all to go to hell because the soldier came back in a box. He told me he didn’t want me to be that selfish… that now wasn’t the time to be thinking of relationships like that. And then yesterday when I called home, he reminded me of that. Said that I should only be focusing on the mission.” He explained.

“Your dad is an ass but I kind of understand. Still did it really require you to be such a dick to me?”

“I thought I was protecting you. Keeping you from possibly getting hurt if I… didn’t make it back.” He chuckled. “I was stupid. I figured this way you had more of a chance to find someone else, and live the life you would’ve if you’d gone to college. You know take risks and all that. But I know better now.” Tears slid down my cheeks then. “Te amo, Y/N.”

“I love you too but you can’t keep doing this,” I said. “You can’t keep pushing me away because it doesn’t fucking matter if you’re my best friend, boyfriend, or whatever. If you don’t come home, it will destroy me.”

“Will you please come home, hermosa?”

“I will tomorrow. For now I think we both need time to cool off and think things through.”

“Okay,” he said. “Goodnight, hermosa.”

“Night mi vida,” I whispered before hanging up the phone. I replayed the whole conversation in my head and the more I did the more crazy it made me feel. The more crazy I felt the more I doubted, and the more I doubted the more I stressed, and the more I stressed… the more my inhibitions are tossed to the wind, my right mind going with them.

He wanted me to have a chance… to take risks...I’ll show him fucking risks.

I tossed my phone onto the coffee table and started down the hall to the bathroom. I walked in and started to strip. “Y/N? That you?” I didn’t answer just finished getting undressed. Feeling a wave of a much different fire I drew back the curtain and stepped in. “WHOA WHAT THE FU—?” I crashed my lips onto his shutting him up. Jake froze but I continued to kiss him as I reached down. I’d barely wrapped my hand around his length when he pulled back. “You sure about this?” I nodded and began stroking him up and down. “Fuck…” he groaned. “Wu-What about Fanboy?”

“He wanted me to be free to do what I want with whoever I want, and right now I want you.” Precum started leaking from his tip as he grew more and more solid beneath my touch. “Besides how long has it been for you? How long has it been since someone’s stroke your cock this way?”

He moaned. “Way too fucking long, darling.”

“So what more do you want?” He didn’t answer me. Just leaned in and pressed his lips hungrily against mine as he wrapped his arms around me and lifted me up against the shower wall. His hand slid up my body and cupped my breast as his lips moved to my neck. I moaned at the feeling, which Jake took to mean he was able to go further. He reached down and lined himself up with my entrance.

“By the way I wasn’t joking when I said you could bite me anytime,” he said before pushing himself inside me.

“FUCK!” I screamed and clung onto him as he continued to stretch me.

“God you feel fucking incredible darling,” he said as he began to thrust. “Can’t believe that dumb fucker said no to this. Fuck!”

“Can’t believe I went this long without dick,” I added as he continued to slam into me. “If he keeps this up you might just have to fuck me more often.”

“Gladly,” Jake smiled reaching to turn the water off. He carried me to his room, his cock still buried inside me. Once he laid me on the bed he continued where he’d left off. I reached around and grabbed his ass making him thrust even harder in me. He leaned down and kissed me once more, his tongue exploring my mouth. After a while he flipped us over and I began to aggressively slide up and down his cock. Jake closed his eyes and let out the most arousing noises escape his mouth. I rode him on my own for a bit before he grabbed my hips and started thrusting up into me. Now it was my turn to make noise.

“OH SHIT!!!” I damn near screamed as the slapping noise of our skin increased as well as the feeling of tension in my core.

With Mickey and me the flame had the heat of a candle and spread like a fire through a house, but with Jake… it was like the inside of a volcano right before it erupts.

“Fuck darling, I don’t know how much longer I can, oh fuck.”

We flipped again and he rammed into me like his life depended on it. “Fuck Jake I’m gonna cum!”

“It’s okay darling. Just let go for me, fuck!” I felt myself tighten around him as a stream of obscenities left my mouth, and my back arched. I was still in a daze when Jake groaned. “Fuck I’m cumming. OH FUCK!” He twitched inside me and I could feeling him shooting everything in there.

Finally he collapsed beside me breathless. “That was fucking amazing.”

“I think I’m actually seeing stars,” I said and winced as I shifted my body to face him. “And I think I’m gonna have a hard time walking tomorrow.”

“Fanboy never did that did he?”

“What? Fuck me to paralysis? Not really, just made me sore for a day.” I placed my head on Jake’s chest. “God I really needed this.”

“Glad I could be of help.”

I was glad too. Glad to know that now Mickey wasn’t the only one with reliable Airman to watch his back. Glad to know that if Mickey pushes me away again I have an angel to catch me and bring me home.

[xtrashmammalstefx]

I. Want. All of that. RIGHT FUCKING NOW!😛

[xtrashmammalstefx]

A MUCH NEEDED LIFE UPDATE!!!

I know I've been gone for a hot minute (maybe longer) besides occasionally reblogging things, and that The Queen Repertoire Series hasn't been updated in for-fucking-ever. The truth is.....

I NEEDED A FUCKING PSYCHE BREAK!

Like I was seriously so creatively blocked and stressed it was not fun, at all. So, I took a much-needed mental health break promising myself I would come back as soon as I felt well enough. Well, now I feel more than well enough.

My meds have been adjusted and life has just been pretty awesome if I do say so myself. I even have a massive number of ideas for smuts, fluffs, and all that good shit.

I will also be getting back into The Queen Repertoire series (will have next part up eventually), and will be linking y'all to my AO3 account once I start posting stories there.

As for requests: KEEP 'EM COMING! I'm even expanding my list of who I can write about to include:

Top Gun Maverick:

Rooster

Fanboy

Hangman

Bob

MISC.:

Daniel Bruhl

Matt Murdock

Frank Castle

Billy Russo (maybe)

Eddie Munson (I don't remember if I mentioned him in my other posts but I will for damn sure write Eddie Munson smut, I fucking love him to death which goes without say,)

Joseph Quinn

Steve Harrington

Johnny Knoxville (cuz lord knows that man has been fucking me up lately).

Daisy Jones & The Six:

Billy Dunne

Eddie Roundtree

Graham Dunne

If I think of more, I will let you know but for now these are my additions.

Man, I am so glad to be back and can't wait to continue contributing to this beloved hell site. And I thank and appreciate all of you for being so patient and (I know I don't need to but) I'm sorry for the long wait.

That's all for now from your favorite trash mammal.

-TrashmammalStef

[xtrashmammalstefx]

Where My Demons Hide (A Zak Bagans Story) Pt. 2

Requested By: @goth-cowgirl-03

WARNINGS: Language

Notes: Unlike the first part this is pure FLUFF. Like no joke.

Zakkk: I’m sorry Y/N. I need time.

Zakkk: I think u do too.

That was the last text Zak had sent me since that night. It’s been only a month but the radio silence made it feel like a lifetime.

I explained to him what had happened the night before… How he was attacked and… and I thought I helped him… I told him how we ended up in bed together, and how, as it turns out, he was possessed the entire time he’d made love to me.

He quickly got dressed and went for a walk. While he was gone I got dressed, eliminated the buzz killing dickwad who was still lingering in the room and walked back to my room with the heavy weight of shame on my shoulders.

Now as I lay in my bed not wanting to get up, I sigh and put my phone back on the bedside table. As soon as I did a wave of nausea hit me full force and I darted to the bathroom. Once I kneeled over the toilet there was no stopping it. Looking at it you would think I’d thrown up every meal I’d had for the past week.

Empty of sustinence I flushed the toilet and sat down beside it to catch my breath. As I did my hand went up to my stomach to give it a much needed massage. My hand froze though when I touched myself. I looked down and gasped. The entire area between my hips was swollen, not dramatically so but enough to be noticeable. “Not possible…” I whispered. But once I felt the slightest nudge against my hand I knew…

“UNCLE LUCI YOU PIECE OF SHI-!” I was cut off by the sound of my doorbell. I groaned and pulled myself up.

As I made my way to my room to get my robe I sent a silent prayer to my father.

Uncle Luci did it. The Big A is on its way.

I threw my robe on and ran downstairs, sashing it as I did.

I looked through the peep hole not expecting to see anyone important; maybe the mailman, or Amazon. Instead of them though, Zak stood on my doorstep. Fucking great.

I sighed and opened the door. “Hey,” I greeted him.

“Hey, um, are you feeling okay?”

“Do I look that shitty?”

“Well, yeah, kind of…”

“Awesome,” I said unenthusiastically. “Um, is there something you wanted?”

“Um, I just wanted to talk but if you’re not up to it-”

“I was about to call you anyway,” I said stepping aside.

He stepped inside and started towards the living room. I followed close by but froze when a voice caught my attention.

Who is the mother?

“Y/N? You alright?” I held up a finger and pointed upward. A signal he grew to know very well.

They put him in me.

And the vessel father?

He’s standing right in front of me.

“Sorry about that, dad and I needed to have a very urgent chat,” I said.

“Should we be worried?” Zak asked.

“Not if we do things right,” I said. “Which is why I was gonna call you.”

“And here I was about to talk about, well, that night… I guess that can wait though.”

“Actually it has exactly to do with what happened that night,” I said before undoing the knot on my robe. “Try not to panic, okay? Neither of us could’ve seen this coming…”

“Seen wha-” I cut him off by opening my robe exposing my belly. “THE FUCK?!”

“I told you not to panic,” I said. “Fear is the last thing either of us should feel right now.”

“I-I mean is it mine? The fuck am I thinking of course it is,” Zak buried his head in his hands.

“It’s only partially yours,” I explained. “The human part is very much you. It also has bit of me, and a part of the demon that put it in here.” Zak’s head shot up.

“Demon?” I nodded.

“For eons his kind had gone by one name,” I held my stomach and tears erupted from my eyes. “Antichrist.”

“I think I’m gonna throw up,” Zak muttered. “Does this mean...did… did we just end the fucking world?”

“No,” I whispered. “Well, I mean we basically puts it fate in our hands. If we do things right he will grow to be the most powerful being on this planet but he won’t be evil. If we fuck up though…”

“It will be the ultimate fuck up,” Zak finished. “And there’s nothing we can do right now, you know like an abortion or..?”

“He’s growing too fast and even if we did they would only try again with someone else,” I said. “I’m not the only Nephilim in the world remember?”

The shock wouldn’t leave Zak’s face. I walked over to the couch where he was and sat down beside him. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry you’re involved in this…” He turned to me but didn’t say anything, hell he wouldn’t even look at me in the face, his eyes froze over the bump. Still staring he slowly reached out and placed his hand on my stomach. There was another nudge in response.

Zak gasped. “It really is growing fast. I take it we don’t have the normal nine months to prepare.”

“Nope,” I muttered.

His hand then fell from my stomach down to my hand. He took my hand in his and held it tight. “I’m with you every step of the way.” He said sounding like he was making a promise to himself, to me, and to his child. “I love you, Y/N. More than I’ve ever loved anyone before… and evil or not I will love this baby for the rest of my life.”

“I love you too,” I whispered before Zak leaned in and enveloped my lips with his. Somehow this kiss felt different than the ones we shared that night. It was more warm, loving, and well… human.

After a while we pulled back and Zak just held me against him. “There’s something we have to do before anything else, though.”

“What?”

I looked up at him, smiling weakly. “How do you feel about getting married?”