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#so there's gonna be 14 parts total

rowarn · 5 months

Text

PLEASE, LOVE ME. PT2

simon riley / reader

FIND PART ONE || read the full thing on ao3

tags: childhood friends, friends2lovers, virgin!reader, soft!simon, protective!simon, afab!reader, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, MDNI

cw: reader is over 20, pining, masturbation (reader), loss of virginity, explicit workplace sexual harassment/assault, so much crying, one-sided love, not-really-unrequited love, vomiting, panic attacks, depression, crying, sex related shame, PTSD (reader), codependency but cute, self-deprecating thoughts, slut shaming, wet dream, dry humping, simon fucks up tho, reference to suicide & suicidal ideation, really nasty argument, reader hits simon sorry, apologizes tho!!!, reader struggles to orgasm, drinking, fooling around while drunk (no sex), breast play, fingering, orgasm denial, simon's a tease, p-in-v, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, creampie, mating press, missionary, simon's dirty mouth, dirty talk, wet&messy, big cock, uncut simon bc i said so, reassurance & encouragement, some pain upon penetration, clit spanking, post-coital crying!!!!!!, aftercare, briefly edited so apologies for any lingering mistakes

note: this is part two and contains the gratuitous smut portion ur all looking forward to <3

you've loved him since you were children. after a confession when you were 14 went rejected, you vowed to never let your feelings be known again. but after an incident that left you hurt and fragile, you find it hard to keep that promise.

PART 2: 17.9k total: 35.8k

Things seem to get much better between you. Your anger and resentment towards Simon diminishes significantly and you can finally say you feel comfortable around him again. You wouldn’t say you’ve forgotten everything that happened, you fear that the entire ordeal has left its scar on you.

But you finally feel ready to truly begin to work on yourself and get to a better place mentally.

You’re humming to yourself as you dust the surfaces in your living room, cringing in disgust when you see how dusty a particular shelf was.

Just as you go to give it another swipe, your front door opens and Simon stumbles in, huffing from effort as he carries two armfuls of groceries.

“Simon!” you cry out, watching with wide eyes from the stepstool you stood on as he ungracefully dropped them on the floor, “Why did you bring them all up here like that?”

“Didn’t wanna make another trip,” he explained lamely, flexing his hands as he looked over all the bags.

“Okay, I guess,” you chuckle softly.

Simon finally looks up at you, “What are you doing?”

“Cleaning,” you shrug, waving the duster at him, “I haven’t felt like doing it until now so might as well get it done when I feel like it!”

He’s quiet for a moment before he steps over the bags of groceries.His boots thunk heavily on the floor as he approaches you. Suddenly, he wraps an arm around your middle. You squeak in surprise when he very carefully and gently pulls you off of the stool and places you back onto your feet.

Then he walks away like nothing happened, snatching up a couple groceries up from the floor to take to the kitchen.

You decide not to comment on his behavior and simply choose to grab a couple of bags and help him out. When you get inside the kitchen, he’s already stuffing things into the refrigerator. You place the bags down and go back to pick some more up, transferring all the bags of groceries near him so he can easily put them away.

You notice one of the bags has some piping, lightbulbs, wires, and other things you can’t identify.

“What’s all this?” you ask, holding the bag out to him when he turns to look.

He grunts, closing the fridge, “Gonna fix some shit around here.”

“Why?” you ask, scrunching your nose up as you place the bag on the counter.

“Shithole needs it,” he mumbles, moving to start opening the cabinets, “Since you refuse to let me move you out of this place, I’m gonna make sure it at least functions.”

You hum and nod your head. Simon had attempted to convince you to move out and into an apartment of his own choosing but you flat out refused. He was already paying the rent on this place, you weren’t going to let him spend more money for a different place – because you know Simon would choose somewhere that would cost a lot more than your current flat.

But you couldn’t deny, the idea of Simon doing a little manual labor around the apartment made your heart flutter in your chest. The way he took care of you and was willing to get his hands dirty just to make sure you were comfortable. The little domestic tasks you could imagine him doing.

It almost felt like something a husband would do.

You felt your cheeks flush immediately at the train of thought. How embarrassing and juvenile to think something like that

“I can cook dinner!” you mumble after clearing your throat.

Simon actually has the audacity to laugh. You frown as he shakes his head, closing the cabinet before turning to you.

“Absolutely not,” he says.

Your jaw drops, “Why?!”

“Because,” he steps closer, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before breezing past you, “You’re a terrible cook, love.”

You open your mouth to retort but can only huff. Because he’s right. The last time you tried to make dinner for the two of you, you had confused cayenne with cinnamon and made the most diabolical stew known to man. He vowed to never let you cook anything that required more than boiling water since.

You pout your way back to the living room, mumbling a petulant, “Fine…” as you went.

You didn’t catch the broad grin on Simon’s face as he watched you sulk away. He was just happy to see your vibrance returning before his very eyes.

True to his word, however, he began to do some random odd jobs around the apartment. He changed that damn leaky faucet in the kitchen first. He would never admit it but it was beginning to drive him completely mad. He swore he could hear it dripping into the metal sink basin in his dreams.

Then he fixed the piping in the bathroom so they would stop all that god-awful clanking that practically woke up the entire complex. But after that, he figured he might as well fix the piping under the sinks as well.

That’s when you saw him. On his back, big body sprawled out as he worked underneath the cabinet, wrench in hand and soft grunts of effort coming from him. His t-shirt rose up just a bit, exposing a small stretch of tummy and his happy trail. Every once in a while, you could see his muscles flex and it made your mouth go completely dry.

You felt like a Victorian man seeing his first ankle on a woman. Ridiculous.

Sure, you’d seen Simon shirtless countless times – hell, you walked in on him completely naked once or twice. But there was something particularly…delicious about him like this. Unaware, casual, just doing work.

It made a swell of heat settle in your abdomen. You squeezed your thighs together as you watched him. His biceps flexed and bulged, making the sleeve of his t-shirt grow taut around his skin. His muscles moved underneath the tattoos inked into his skin.

You dragged your eyes down his body, past his pecs, past the sliver of tummy. You imagined yourself crawling between those thick thighs and unbuckling his belt, tugging at the button of his jeans. You imagined getting to see his cock chub up inside his boxers before you would pull it out and wrap your lips around the leaking tip.

Salty, you imagine. You’ve always heard that men’s cum and pre-cum would be salty. Would Simon’s taste as bad as some of your friends had told you back in highschool? You hoped not. You couldn’t imagine not enjoying every part of him – even his cum.

You wanted him to shoot in your mouth, let you taste it. You wanted to milk it out of him, give him no choice but to cum down your throat.

“Are you just going to stand there or do you need something?” his voice startled you out of your thoughts.

Wide eyed, you looked to meet his gaze but you found he wasn’t even looking at you, still staring at the piped overhead.

“Um,” you cleared your throat, floundering for an excuse as to why you were ogling him like a piece of meat, “I didn’t want to interrupt you. I-I was just wanting to make sure the shower was okay to use?”

He grunts, letting out a soft sigh before pushing himself out from under the sink, closing the cabinet before wiping his brow with the back of his hand, “Yeah, go ahead and shower, love.”

You give him a tight-lipped smile, casting one last glance to see that his t-shirt had fallen back into place. Disappointing.

You trudge out of the kitchen and into the bathroom. Softly, you close the door and turn on the shower. The pipes don’t clang when the water shoots through them. It brings a smile to your face.

Once you’re stripped and standing under the warm spray, you let your hands wander your body. First, you cup your breasts, watching your nipples harden under your own touch before you slide one hand between your thighs. There’s a slickness between your folds that's distinctly different from the water, it’s slippery and sticky. But it makes your touch against your clit easy.

You bite your lips to keep quiet, scared to death that Simon could hear you from under the sound of the water. You make quick, tight little circles against your clit. The bud is hard and twitches under your fingers. It makes the breath stutter out of your chest.

You need more room, you realize, hiking your foot up onto a shelf. It spreads you open just a little more, gives you a little more access for your fingers to play. You sigh, head tipping forward to watch as you circle your own clit.

But the more you touch yourself, the faster that tingling, warm sensation dissipates. You huff through your clenched teeth, frustrated.

Usually, you could at least feel the beginning of that peak forming but this time…not even close. So you shamefully close your legs and go about your shower as if nothing happened, taking care to wash the slick from between your thighs especially.

As you lay in bed that night, Simon breathing deeply beside you as he slept, you were lost in thought.

Surely, you were in the wrong for thinking about Simon like that – for getting wet at the sight of him. And then sleeping soundly next to him as if you weren’t some kind of pervert. Maybe you should just confess and apologize to him.

No. You quickly admonish that thought, glancing over at his prone form. You couldn’t bear to see him be disgusted by you. He’d already rejected you years ago, finalized it and put the nail in the coffin so you would never be dumb enough to do it again.

What would he do if he found out about your…attraction to him? He practically lived with you now, after everything happened. He was in your flat more than he was on base now. It was only a matter of time before he caught you with your hands dancing in your pants.

Your cheeks flushed at the idea. Part of you thought it hot – for him to find you needy like that, desperately playing with your clit as you try to make yourself cum.

But on the other hand, you could see the wrinkle of disgust in his brow and sneer on his face as he walked away. That outcome was not worth it, you decided.

With a sigh, you rolled over so your back faced Simon and closed your eyes for the night.

You both should have known better that the fragile peacefulness between the two of you was just that – fragile, balancing on a delicate precipice that could shatter at any moment.

The ring of his phone was the break.

“Answer that for me, love!” he called from the kitchen where he was busy preparing dinner.

You leaned forward to check the number. It wasn’t in his contacts but Simon never got calls from people unless he knew them. So you slowly slid the button over and accepted the call.

“Hello?” you mumbled into the phone.

There was a beat of silence before a woman’s voice responded in kind, “Hello?”

“Um…” you swallowed down the apprehension that settled in your chest, casting a glance towards Simon’s back as he stood over the stove, “Who may I ask is calling?”

“I’m looking for Simon,” she said, sounding much more coy than a second ago. She knew his real name and that irked you. People from work always referred to him as Ghost, only those he considered trustworthy or friends were privy to calling him Simon.

“Um, he’s busy at the moment, can I take a message?” you ask, loud enough for Simon to hear in the kitchen if he was interested in intervening. But he didn’t move.

“Sure!” she giggled, “Tell him that Victoria really wants to see him again and to call me so we can!”

You swallowed around the lump in your throat, “Y-Yeah, sure. I’ll let him know…”

“Thank you,” she cooed in a sultry tone, “Oh! And tell him I really had a great time last time we were together and that I’m looking forward to a repeat performance.”

“Yeah. I’ll do that,” you assured, hoping you didn’t sound as tense as you felt.

She giggled before the call disconnected and you were left glaring at his stupid stock phone wallpaper.

“Who was it?” Simon comes to the archway of the kitchen, leaning against the wall. You can’t hear anything cooking anymore so you assume he’s finished dinner.

“Victoria,” you spit the name out like it’s poisonous, “Says she wants to see you again and she had a fantastic time with you last time.”

Simon shifts where he stands, looking down at his feet before looking back up to you, “Alright. I’ll call her back later.”

That sends knives straight through your heart. It aches so badly that you want to bite your own tongue off to make it stop.

Jealousy, you realize. You’re fucking jealous. Some girl calls and asks for his dick and he just says okay?

He’s not yours, you tell yourself. He can fuck whoever he wants.

But that does nothing to quell the inferno raging inside you.

There’s other feelings brewing inside you; rejection, fear, loss.

You feel bitter that you’re right there and he would still never choose you. He’ll always choose someone else because he doesn’t see you like that. It feels like he’s throwing it in your face, just spitting at you to show you that he doesn’t love you like you love him. He never has and he never will. You’ll never be an option to him because he doesn’t want you.

Then you’re scared he’s going to leave you. He’s going to go to this Victoria chick and leave you all alone so he can get his dick wet again. Just like last time. Maybe he’ll like it so much he wants to stay with her. Maybe he’s going to leave you behind so he can start a new, happy life without having to worry about the dead weight that’s been dragging him down since he was 8. You. His responsibility. His problem.

You’re so scared that he’s going to be ripped from your grasp. That you’re going to lose him to someone else and it’s going to be you and your pathetic one-sided love for the rest of your life. Fuck, you’ve loved him since you were 4. You’ve loved him for so long that it makes you nauseous to think about. How many people loved one person for this long?

Please, you wanted to cry to him, please love me.

Please, just love me back.

“So you’re gonna go then?’ you finally find your voice, bitterness and resentment thick in your tone, “You’re gonna leave me to go to a booty call again?”

He stands up straight at that. Arms cross over his chest, he watches that way you glare at him, heated and teary-eyed. Hurt.

He knew you still weren’t over the way he left you that time – when you needed him the most. You’d been ignoring the residual hurt that lingered, intent on pretending that everything was fine. He had been doing his best to make up for it but it always felt like one step forward and two steps back with you.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he assures softly, “I’ll call her back to tell her that it won’t happen.”

He tries his best to remain level-headed and soft, to be reassuring like he knows you need. But your expression doesn’t change. You continue to glare at him with that furious, hurt look in your eyes.

Suddenly, you stand.

“I don’t believe you,” you hiss, turning your back to him, storming down the hallway.

He almost winces when he hears how hard you slam the bedroom door. He thinks about going back there to talk to you but decides against it. You need some space to calm yourself down.

He eats the dinner he made for both of you alone, putting your half in the fridge for later. He goes about the apartment, locking the door and turning out all the lights. Then he gets to the bedroom door and goes to turn the knob and it doesn’t budge.

Despite himself, he laughs. He jiggles the knob, jerks the door a little harder like it’ll open with a bit of force. And it might, it’s a flimsy ass door if he’s being honest – he’s forced bigger and heavier doors open before.

He snaps your name, humor gone from his voice. You don’t answer.

“Open the damn door,” he snaps, trying the knob again. He gets silence in return so he slams his fist against the surface. The sound is loud enough that it makes his own ears ring, “I said open the door. I’m not playin’ this game with you, sweetheart.”

“Sleep on the couch, Simon!” he hears your wobbly voice call back. Of course you’re in there crying, he thinks.

“I’m not sleepin’ on the fuckin’ couch,” he hisses, leaning his forearm against the door, resting his head against it with a sigh, “Open the door and let’s talk.”

“Don’t wanna talk to you,” you whine, bratty as all hell. He would have laughed if he wasn’t so damn pissed, “Why don’t you go sleep with Victoria since you like her so much.”

You don’t know why you say that last part. You don’t want him to go to her, you don’t want him to go anywhere. The thought of it brings more tears to your eyes.

Simon is silent on the other side of the door for a long while. You almost think he walked away and succumbed to the couch. You wouldn’t actually let him sleep on that awful thing, of course. You just…you don’t know what the end goal here is, if you’re honest.

“Fine,” he finally spits, “If that’s what you want, I’ll fuck off and find Victoria.”

You hear the floorboards creak under his weight as he walks away. You sit up straight in bed at that, eyes wide as you listen to him stalk through the house. You swear you hear the jingle of his keys and that’s what has you lurching out of bed in a panic.

You almost trip over the sheets as they tangle around your legs but you manage to free yourself and wrench the door open.

“Simon!” you practically shriek, rounding the corner of the hallway to find him standing with his back to you, facing the door.

He’s got his hoodie and mask on, boots firmly on his feet and keys in hand. He stands still, back straight as his shoulders rise and fall with his breathing. But he waits.

“Don’t go,” you find yourself whimpering, “‘M sorry. Come to bed, okay?”

He doesn’t move and that makes your heart pound in your chest. You know he’s pissed, can see it in the way his fists stay clenched at his sides. His fingers twitch and he makes a move for the doorknob and you surge forward, wrapping yourself around his other arm, yanking him away from the door as hard as you can.

He lets your weight knock him off balance, lets you drag him away from the door. He lets you tug him down the hallway, sniffling and crying as you do.

“J-Just…” you find yourself frantically tugging his mask off, tossing it away before you rip the hem of his hoodie up. He doesn’t help you or fight you as you try to take it off of him. He just stares blankly at you, like he’s assessing you. You hate it. “G-Get ready for bed, okay? Just…we can go to sleep.”

“Why do you make this so fuckin’ hard for me?” he finally breaks his silence, the question cold and calculating. Like he’s tired. Exhausted, “I keep tryin’ to make it up to you. But every time something goes wrong, you throw everything back in my face and you act like you hate me again. I can’t keep…” he trails off, shaking his head before he sits at the foot of the bed, hands clasped together and head hanging between his shoulders.

“I love you,” you blurt out, a sob breaking out of your lips as you do. Simon doesn’t move. Your hands cover your eyes, as if being blind to his reaction will make the rejection hurt less, “I love you and i-it just keeps messing me up inside. I’m sorry.”

“You love me?” he asks, still no emotion in his voice.

When you peek at him, he’s in the same position as before, hands clasped, elbows on his knees, head bowed. You have no idea what expression he’s wearing and you’re scared to find out.

“Yes,” you hiccup, sniffling softly, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” he asks softly, almost solemnly.

“I promised,” you cry, another choked sob escaping you.

“Promised..?” he doesn’t sound cold anymore, just confused, “The fuck’re you talkin’ about?”

“W-When I was 14,” you whimper, shame filling you as you recall your now-broken promise, “I-I told you I liked you and you said you didn’t feel the same. You told me to never bring it up again and I promised I wouldn’t. B-But…” you sobbed again, stopping yourself from finishing the sentence.

“Fuckin’ hell…” he breathes, bringing his hands to his face, scrubbing them up and down vigorously in a way that looks like it hurts. Then he laughs.

He fucking laughs.

It’s like your worst fears come to light. He’s laughing at you, at your confession. At your feelings. A fresh wave of tears fill your eyes and fall down your cheeks. You bite your lips to keep from making your sobs audible anymore. You didn’t want him to laugh at that too. You hang your head, wringing your hands together behind your back anxiously as Simon quiets down.

“Shit,” he breathes, getting to his feet. He stands before you, cupping your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. He frowns when he sees the utter despair on your face, the heartbreak in your eyes, “No, baby. No, no. I wasn’t laughin’ at you.”

Baby. You catch onto it. He’s never called you that before.

You dash the spark of hope that it causes.

He rubs his thumbs under your eyes, wiping the tears away.

Then, he leans forward and slots his lips against yours.

It’s like fireworks explode in your chest. Your heart races so fast that you feel lightheaded. You can’t even respond to the kiss in time before he pulls away, your mind is moving too fast for you to process any meaningful thought. But he kissed you.

Simon kissed you.

“What?” you finally manage to whisper, looking up with wide, shocked eyes, “Why did you..?”

He looks confused for a second, still cupping your cheeks as he looks into your watery eyes, “You really have no idea?” Your brows furrow immediately and you shake your head, “How I feel about you?”

“You feel..?” you dumbly repeat.

He smiles softly, thumb rubbing softly over your cheekbone, “You really think I don’t feel the same?”

“B-But when…when we were kids I…” you stumble over your words, the truth you’ve believed this entire time seemingly false, “You s-said you didn’t feel the same.”

“Jesus, love,” he huffs softly in disbelief, “You were fourteen. I was seventeen. You were way too fuckin’ young for me, it wouldn’t have been right.”

“B-But then…” you stutter, reaching up to wipe your cheek, “When did you..?”

He shrugs, “Not sure exactly. Suppose sometime after you turned 20 was when I realized I felt somethin’ for you.”

“So you really…” you whisper, snagging your hands into his hoodie to pull him close, “You really…I mean…”

“Love you?” he smiles softly, “Of course I do.”

You lean forward and press your lips to his. He hums, wrapping one strong arm around your middle to pull you even closer. His lips work magically over yours, taking control of the kiss with ease. You easily melt into it, following his lead. It’s not as easy as you thought it would be and you hope Simon doesn’t notice.

But he does, of course he does.

He pulls away and smooths the palm of his hand down your cheek before it comes to rest on your jaw. His thumb slides over your bottom lip and he hums.

“You ever kissed before?” he asks, voice calm and level with no teasing to it at all.

Still, heat explodes all over your face. Embarrassment overrides the euphoria of your requited feelings. You try to pull away but Simon’s much stronger and he won’t let go unless he wants to.

“Hey, don’t run,” he coos softly, turning your face to look back up at him, “I was just askin’.”

“No,” you mumble, still burning with embarrassment, “I-I’ve only ever liked you so…”

“Fuckin’ hell…” he whispers, letting you step back just a bit so he can look over you, “Is that right?”

“You should know that,” you mumble, feeling small under his scrutiny, “You know everything about me.”

“Didn’t think datin’ history was somethin’ you felt like sharin’,” he shrugged off.

“Well, now you know,” you mutter, your gaze glued to the floor.

“That I do,” he hums in agreement, reaching out to brush a hand down the length of your arm.

A soft, quietness falls over the two of you. You’re not sure what to do and it seems he’s content where he is. He’s watching you, tracking every little shift and fidget you make until he finally seems to take pity on you.

“Let’s get to bed,” he says softly, giving you a soft nudge towards the bed.

You take the opportunity to dive into bed, yanking the blanket over you as Simon strips himself out of his boots and hoodie. You go to look away as he yanks his belt free with practiced hands but you can’t seem to. He slips the belt out of the loops and drops it on the dresser before unbuttoning his jeans and slipping them off.

Your mouth waters at the sight of him in a tight pair of navy boxer-briefs slung low on his hips. You can make out the shape of his–

“Enjoyin’ the view?” he mumbles half-heartedly as he turns to root through the dresser to find some sweatpants.

“Sorry…” you mutter shamefully at being caught.

He chuckles under his breath, pulling the sweats on before he rounds to his side of the bed and drops onto the mattress, “Nothin’ to be sorry about.”

He leans over you and turns out the tableside lamp. Then he settles into his pillow with a soft sigh.

“Si..?” you whisper.

“Yeah?” you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Are we um…” you clear your throat, “I mean like…are we…together now..?”

You feel him roll over and toss his arms around you. You squeak when he tugs you towards him roughly, securing you against his chest before he kisses the top of your head.

“Do you want to be together?” he asks, muffled by his lips pressed against you.

“Yes,” you whisper quickly, wrapping yourself around him almost possessively.

He tilts your head up and carefully slots his mouth over yours again. You sigh happily at the feeling.

You notice that he keeps it a lot slower than he had before, moving his lips carefully against yours. Like he’s trying to make it easier for you to keep up. It makes your cheeks flush again but you sink into the pillow and let him kiss all he wants as you do your best to match his movements.

His body shifts, torso hovering over you as he rests his weight on his elbows on either side of your head. Your hands rest against his shoulders and simply get lost in the kiss.

After a moment, he deepens the kiss, sinking into you with his chest pressed against yours. You whimper and wrap your arms around his neck, carding your fingers through his cropped hair.

One of his hands moves, coming to grip your waist, fingers sliding up the hem of your shirt. It’s like a dream come true. Literally.

All those nights you spent with your hand between your thighs, thinking of him. Thinking of him touching you like this – with his hand sliding your shirt up a little further every second. You even feel that familiar wetness soaking your panties.

Then why was your heart racing from anxiety instead of excitement? Why did you feel a fearful tremble setting in your thighs, as if your knees would be knocking together if you were standing. Why were you scared?

Before you can stop yourself, you’re shoving your hands against his chest with a weak, “No!”

Simon is off of you in seconds but you can feel his gaze on you in the darkness. You struggle to catch your breath as you lay there, heart pounding in your ears. Your head hurts, you realize with a wince.

“Um…” you find yourself attempting to appease him, “I-I don’t…I’m sorry, I…”

“It’s alright,” he whispers sincerely, settling down into bed with a content hum, “Nothin’ to worry about, love.”

You scoot closer to him and hesitantly place your head on his chest. Simon’s arm wraps around your back and tucks you even more snug against him. You close your eyes and will yourself to relax and sleep as you feel Simon’s comforting hand rubbing your back.

Neither of you talk about it in the morning. Or the day after that. Or the day after that. You don’t bring it up, even though you want to, and Simon doesn’t try touching you like that again. Part of you wants him to, you’ve been dreaming about his touch for years but once you finally get it, you freak out?

You can’t stop beating yourself up over it.

But then you think about the anxiety that it had caused. The apprehension. How uncomfortable it felt – how you wanted his hands off of you.

You sighed, flopping onto your side on the couch where you sat. Your mind was buzzing annoyingly from your thoughts.

Regardless of your problems, you were happier than ever with him. He was finally yours. Wholly and truly yours. It was bliss.

“Got a call,” Simon says, snapping you out of your daze, “Gotta leave.”

That makes you sit up, “Leave?”

You finally notice that he’s got his bag packed – the one he only takes when he’s getting deployed. You’re on your feet in seconds, following him to the door. He’s wearing his skull balaclava so all you can see are his eyes – sad, apologetic.

“H-How long?” you ask, unable to ignore the ache in your chest as you watch him.

“Few weeks, probably,” he mutters, placing the bag down so he can tuck his feet into his boots.

He straightens up with a grunt before turning to you. He sighs, gloved hands cupping your cheeks when he sees how sad you look – like a kicked puppy. You wish you could feel his bare hands on you but can’t find it in you to ask.

“I don’t want you to go,” you find yourself mumbling.

It’s selfish and even a bit cruel of you to voice that desire. Simon’s thumb strokes your cheek in that sweet way he always does and you melt into him. He lets you thump your head against his chest as you suppress your cries, biting your lip so you can keep your tears at bay.

“I know,” he softly whispers, stroking your back as you cling to him, “I know, but I have to.”

“I know,” you mumble, finally looking up at him. You know your eyes are glassy and you make sure to blink back the tears so they never overflow, “Just be safe and come home, okay?”

He lifts his mask up just enough to expose his lips before he leans down to kiss you. It’s a whole body experience this time. He clutches you against him like his life depends on it, gloved hands fiercely gripping the back of your t-shirt. His lips move smoothly against yours, hand coming up to cup your jaw so he can tilt your head and pull you even deeper into his kiss. He pulls away when he needs to breathe, smiling when he sees the dazed, lovesick expression on your face. He tugs his mask down and lets you go but you stay as close to him as possible.

“Make sure you stay warm,” he coos, “Gonna start gettin’ real cold in a couple days.”

“I will, Si,” you assure him.

“Left some cash for you to do your shoppin’,” he adds, “I know you’re a shit cook but I left a list of some easy recipes. Don’t burn the flat down.”

You snort and playfully smack his shoulder, “I’ll just buy some cup noodles in that case.”

He rolls his eyes, pinching your side to make you gasp from the ticklish feeling, “Don’t even think about it.”

Your grin falters when his phone makes that obnoxious beeping noise that lets you know it’s something urgent. He sighs, the tranquil happiness between you two broken immediately. He kisses your forehead through his mask and pulls the front door open.

“Keep this locked,” he mutters, stepping past the threshold, “I’ll be home soon.”

He closes the door and you’re left with an emptiness that overcomes you. You’ve always been scared for him when he has to go off on missions – you know that his job is extremely dangerous and he could lose his life at any moment. That thought alone makes a nauseous pit settle in your stomach. You push down the feeling of bile rising in the back of your throat and click the lock on the door with a sigh before you go about your day, trying your best to keep your mind off of him and where he might be in the world.

True to his word, however, the temperature drops bitterly cold within 2 days after he leaves. There had already been a chill in the air that drove you to turn the heating on just a bit but now it was full blast. But now, it was dipping to freezing and you were anticipating the arrival of snow soon enough as well.

You wake up one morning, however, and your apartment is bitterly cold. You sit up, confused before climbing out of bed. Your feet are immediately freezing as you step onto the floor. You hiss, wrapping your arms around yourself as you stumble over to the radiator in your room. You touch it and find absolutely no heat emanating from it.

All the radiators are the same. Absolutely no heat.

You curse, realizing you have no idea what you’re supposed to do. You curl up on the couch under a heavy throw blanket as you type with bitterly cold fingers into Google, looking for anything that can help you. But it’s to no avail. You can’t understand a thing.

Your next thought is to call the building manager but you know that’s pointless. The useless man never actually helps with any work for his tenants.

There’s no way in hell that you can afford to call someone to come and fix the problem. You have money for groceries but if you spent that you wouldn’t have anything to eat. You sigh, resolving yourself to bundling up and trying to stay as warm as you can.

You pile all the blankets you have into bed and pick out only your thickest, warmest sweaters.

This is going to be miserable, you think.

The snow comes just a short week later and it feels even colder. You venture out of your flat to go to the grocery store, picking up ingredients for the dishes Simon wrote down for you and also some cans of soup that you can cook to stay warm. You also throw some boxes of tea and some hot chocolate in with it, figuring why not. Warm drinks will help.

It’s almost 3 weeks of living like that. It’s miserable and makes your bones ache from how stiff the cold makes you feel. You make sure to eat nice, hot food to keep yourself warm and make frequent cups of warm drinks so you can keep your hands warm for as long as you can. You do your best.

The worst is showers, though. When you’re standing under the blisteringly hot spray, it’s bliss. But the second you step out and your wet body is hit with the freezing air, you couldn’t have felt more miserable.

The night Simon walks through the door, he finds you bundled up on the couch sipping a cup of hot chocolate.

“Simon!” you gasp excitedly, tossing the blankets off to take a running leap at him.

He huffs contentedly when he catches you in his arms, letting you embrace him for as long as you need. He strips his mask off and brings you in for a delicate kiss.

“Let me wash up,” he mumbles, stalking through the apartment.

“Um, before you do, Si,” you catch him at the entrance to the hallway. He turns to you and looks at you with a brow raised, “The um…heating is broken so…just letting you know when you come out of the shower it’s gonna suck.”

“Ain’t nothin’ I haven’t dealt with before,” he mutters and pauses, “The fuck you mean it’s broken?”

“Heating cut off a few weeks ago…” you shrug, wrapping your arms around yourself as you start to feel the cold creep in again.

“A few weeks ago?” he hisses, running a stressed hand through his hair, “Fuckin’ hell. You didn’t call someone to fix it?”

You pout as he raises his voice, clearly frustrated, “I couldn’t afford it, Si! I had the money you gave me for food but I wasn’t gonna spend that to get the heating fixed. You know the building manager is a piece of shit, not like he was gonna call someone.”

He sighs, crossing his arms over his chest, seemingly thinking something over. Then he turns on his heel and storms into the bathroom, slamming the door.

“I’m sorry, Simon!” you call through the door, “I didn’t know what else to do! Please, don’t be mad.”

The shower turns on and all you can do is look up and sigh in exasperation. The second he’s home and he’s already pissed at you.

You sulk over to the couch and flop down, tossing your blankets over you as you grab your mug. The hot chocolate is still warm but not as hot as it was. It’ll have to do.

Simon comes out of the shower, gets dressed warmly, and joins you in the living room. He doesn’t even look at you as he makes a move for his bag that he left by the door. You almost think he’s going to scoop the bag up and storm out the door. You sit up, ready to stop him but instead, he stoops down and zips it open. He pulls out his wallet and approaches you.

“What are you doing?” you mumble, watching him flip the thing open.

It’s old and worn, a simple black leather wallet. He’s had it for as long as you could remember and you’ve put the poor thing through the washer and dryer so many times that you’re shocked it's still intact.

He pulls out a bank card and promptly hands it to you. Your brain stutters to a stop as you look at it.

“Take it, fuck sake,” he mutters. He sounds annoyed but the way he looks away and his ears turn pink you can tell he’s…shy.

Simon Riley is fucking shy right now.

You take the bank card out of his hand and look at it, flipping over in your hands, “Why are you giving this to me?”

“So you can use it,” he mumbles, slamming his wallet shut and tossing it onto the table, “That way, in case anything happens you can withdraw from my account for what you need. If an emergency happens and I’m not around, use it.”

“Simon…” you mumble, looking up at him, “Are you sure..?”

“Course I’m sure,” he scoffs, taking a seat beside you before softly rattling off four digits.

“Huh?” you dumbly ask.

“It’s my pin,” he responds, grabbing one of the blankets you have piled on the couch and tossing it on his lap.

“That’s my birthday…” you say softly as you repeat the numbers over and over in your head, “Your bank pin is my birthday?”

He snatches the remote up from the table and turns the TV on without another word. But you can see how pink the tips of his ears are. It makes you beam and before you know it, you’re curling snugly into his side.

“Love you, Si,” you whisper, earning a kiss to the top of your head in response.

Simon calls the next morning to have someone come by and fix the damn heating. You listen to the man rattle off some information to Simon about what the problem was but it makes virtually no sense to you so you resolve yourself to sitting on the couch and waiting until it’s warm again.

But even when it’s nice and toasty inside, you still plaster yourself to Simon’s side, snuggling as close to him as you possibly can.

“I want you to meet my team,” Simon says one morning while he’s making some eggs.

You’re standing by the toaster, waiting for it to pop up but his words make you turn to him, “You mean 141?”

“Who else?” he huffs, flipping one of the eggs. It sizzles loudly in the pan, “They wanted me to go out with them tonight. Thought you could join us.”

“Really?” you realize how incredulous you sound and then try again, “I mean really? That’s okay with you?”

He nods, plating the eggs, “I think it’s time they met you.”

“I-I’d love to,” you say, unable to hide the excitement you feel.

You catch a slip of a smile on Simon’s face before the toast pops up and distracts you.

You have to dig into your closet that evening, after a shower, to find something nice to wear. You figure an occasion like this calls for something a little nicer than just jeans and a t-shirt like you usually wear. But you can’t find much of anything.

“What’re you huffin’ about in here?” Simon asks when he walks in, towel wrapped around his waist. He’s still dripping wet from the shower and you can feel the way your mouth fills with saliva at the sight.

“I uh…don’t know what to wear…” you respond, turning your back to him just as he slips the towel off. Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire, imagining Simon completely naked behind you.

“Wear those nice jeans you got,” he mumbles, grunting as he gets himself dressed, “And that little blue top you got.”

“The cropped one?” you ask incredulously, a brow raised as you turn to him. He’s got some jeans on now and he’s meticulously unfolding a black t-shirt so he can put it on, “I haven’t worn that in a while, how’d you even remember it?”

He shrugs, the muscles in his back rippling with his movement before he tosses the shirt over his head and pulls it down, covering his skin once again, “It’s cute. We’re just goin’ to the pub, love.”

“Okay,” you mumble, reaching into the back of your closet to pull the little shirt out, “If you’re sure this will be okay.”

“I’m sure,” he chuckles softly, grabbing his balaclava off the dresser. But he doesn’t put it on yet. Instead, he sits on the bed and watches you change.

You’re acutely aware of his eyes on you as you strip your shirt off. You keep your back to him, trying to ignore your racing heart. You don’t feel uncomfortable at all, instead you feel…excited.

Your mind runs wild, imagining him stepping up behind you, kissing your neck and cupping your bare breasts in his big hands. They’re a little rough from his line of work and you wonder what they’d feel like against the sensitive skin of your tits, thumbing your nipples and pinching them a little meanly.

“C-Can you hand me a bra?” you find yourself asking.

He grunts in acknowledgement and the bed creaks when his weight moves off it. He opens one of the drawers and is behind you in a second. His body heat permeates through his shirt as he presses his chest against your back.

He slings your bra over your shoulder, holding it with one finger by the strap. You can’t help but tilt your head back to look up at him. He’s towering over you, pretty, brown eyes looking down his nose at you.

You realize in this position, he could clearly see your breasts but he keeps his eyes on yours. You take the bra from him and he lets you, simply staring into your eyes with that stern silence he has about him.

“T-Thanks…” you find yourself whispering, mouth feeling particularly dry.

He grunts, lips quirked up just a bit before he turns his back and walks back to the bed. You let out a quiet, slow breath, willing your heart rate to go back to normal.

Simon was so exhilarating. Just being around him sets your heart racing and fingers trembling.

You put your bra on and slip your top over your head, ignoring the sticky feeling in your panties as you do.

“I don’t know, Si,” you mutter, turning to face him, “I-It’s a little tight on me now.”

The fabric once hugged you nicely but now it was snug. It molded around your breasts, even showing the lines of your bra. The neckline was low, giving a good show of cleavage – it didn’t help that Simon picked one of your more well padded bras.

Simon looks up, his eyes immediately falling to your breasts. He sucks in a quick breath and looks away, licking his lips.

“Looks fine,” he mutters, standing to pull one of the drawers open again. He searches for a second, brows furrowed until he pulls out the jeans he was talking about. The ‘nice jeans’ as he called them, were just some low rise jeans you’d only worn about 4 times.

You look dumbly at them as he drops them into your hands.

“These?” you scoff, “Simon, I can’t–”

He quiets you with a kiss to your forehead, “Trust me, love.”

He steps out of the room after that, leaving you to your own devices. You’re thankful that you can change your panties without him seeing how saturated and sticky they’ve become because of him. You bury them in the laundry basket and remind yourself that you should do the laundry before he does because you’d be mortified if he found them.

You don’t even look at yourself in the mirror, afraid you’ll feel too self-conscious if you see what you look like. But you trust Simon’s judgment on what he thinks would look good on you – and you can’t deny that dressing up how he likes feels nice.

You step into the living room, intent on pulling your shoes on when Simon catches you with an arm around your waist. You gasp as he turns you to face him.

“You look lovely,” he whispers, smoothing his hands up your sides, thumbs slipping under the hem of your shirt to stroke your skin.

You swallow thickly as your heart starts racing in your chest again. He leans down and pecks your lips but pulls back before you have the chance to kiss back.

“Let’s go,” is all he adds before walking away, leaving you no choice but to follow like the lovesick puppy you are.

Walking into the bar, your heart pounds painfully in your chest from pure anxiety. Your hand is clasped tightly in Simon’s as he easily moves through the crowd. You suppose his height makes it easy to see over people.

“You alright?” he asks, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“Haven’t been in a bar since I worked at…” you trail off, giving him a half-hearted shrug.

“If you wanna leave, just say the word,” he mutters, giving your hand a squeeze.

“N-No,” you shake your head, shooting him a wobbly smile,”I wanna meet your team at least.”

He smiles reassuringly and gives your hand a tug to encourage you to follow him. He leads you right to a table situated in a corner, three men laughing and drinking.

“There he is!” the one with the mohawk cheeks, holding up his pint in celebration.

“Shut up, Soap,” Simon grumbles petulantly as he pulls out a chair for you.

Soap, you note to yourself. You know them by name but you’ve never actually seen the faces to put to them. Soap looks like you imagined, a broad grin and pretty, bright eyes – you imagined them green but they’re blue.

“And who is this lovely companion of yours, Simon?” an older man with a hat and mutton chops asks with a kind smile, eyes on you.

Simon says your name before he sits down with a grunt beside you.

“Price,” your boyfriend supplies when you look curiously at him.

The man in question holds out a hand which you take and softly shake, “Nice to meet you.”

“Had no idea Lt. had someone waitin’ for him at home,” Soap says, a teasing lilt in his voice.

So you’ve met Soap, Price, and that leaves; your eyes land on the quiet guy sitting back in his chair, a cool smile on his lips. He meets your gaze and his smile broadens – not teasing like Soap’s but purely kind.

“You can call me Kyle,” he gives you a polite nod.

“Gaz, then?” you question, tilting your head to the side. Kyle looks surprised, eyes flicking to Simon who shifts uncomfortably in his chair, “He’s talked about all of you before. I only know your call signs though.”

“John will do fine if you’d like,” Price says, tipping his beer back to take a chug.

“Simon calls me Johnny,” Soap adds, “You’re welcome to as well. Anyone important to the Lieutenant is important to us.”

Out of the corner of your eye you see Simon roll his eyes. It makes you smile. He leans over, nudging you with his knee, “You want anything to drink? I need one.”

“No thank you, Si,” you reply, intent on having a clear head for the night. You’ve never been much of a drinker anyway.

When Simon’s gone from the table, you suddenly feel incredibly out of place. Price and Kyle have the decency to not stare you down but Soap seems keen on keeping his baby blue’s right on you and a goofy little smile on his face.

“Um…” you shift uncomfortably as you look back at him.

“We’ve never gotten to meet anyone from Ghost’s private life before,” Soap says, saving you from having to think of what to say, “Just shocked s’all.”

“You’re gonna start giving the poor thing the creeps with your ugly mug,” Kyle chuckles which also makes Soap laugh.

“Sorry about that,” Soap lifts his glass and cheers to you before tipping it back.

He grimaces slightly as it goes down before slamming his glass back on the table.

“It’s alright,” you respond, “Si’s not really the open book kind. So I understand.”

“How long have the two of you known each other?” Kyle asks.

You find yourself wondering where the hell Simon even is but answer regardless, “Since we were kids. Um, we lived next door. His mom and mine were friends, I guess.”

Soap nods his head, elbows on the table as he gives you his full attention, “You guess?”

You hum, “I’m 3 years younger than Simon. The way it was told to me by my mom is that…his mom came over and,” you couldn’t fight back the smile as you recalled the story.

“Oh this has got to be good,” Soap nudged Kyle excitedly at your grin.

“Told my mom that Simon didn’t have any friends and that he was a…soft-hearted boy and she wanted him to have some friends,” you giggle, holding a hand in front of your face to hide your laughter, “So she wanted to set up playdates with me even though I was still a baby. My mom didn’t have the heart to tell her no.”

Soap tosses his head back and laughs, “No fuckin’ way.”

“I’m shocked to say it but that actually makes him sound cute,” Kyle adds, unable to hide the laughter in his voice either.

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” Price says, but there’s a smile on his face, “Simon’ll knock you out cold on this table.”

“So you and Simon have been together since?” Kyle asks, glass cupped in both hands.

You nod, “Only time we’ve been apart is when he enlisted and had to go off for a few years to train.”

Soap opens his mouth to say something but a large figure finally drops down into the seat next to you. Simon has a glass of bourbon and a glass that he slides over to Soap who catches it with ease.

“Thanks, Lt,” he nods, taking a sip before making that disgusted face again.

“What are you lot talkin’ about?” Simon asks, drumming his fingers against his glass.

“We were discussin’ all your dirty secrets,” Kyle teases with a charming grin.

“Nothin’ too damning I hope,” Simon huffs before he takes a large gulp of his drink.

The other three men all hide their grins behind their glasses.

The anxiety you had felt at the beginning of the night is long gone. The task force is full of jokes and laughs and even Simon seems like a different person.

With you, he’s kind and even soft. He’s by no means gentle or patient.

But this side of Simon is so jovial and comfortable that it warms your heart to see. He drinks a few glasses and by the end of the night, he’s got a relaxed, lidded look in his eyes that lets you know he’s got a bit of a buzz going on.

“It was lovely to meet you,” Price says when you all walk out of the bar.

“I really enjoyed meeting all of you as well,” you smile, letting Simon tuck you into his side with an arm wrapped around your waist.

“Get him home safe,” Soap teases, your smile only widening when you hear Simon huff in annoyance.

You bid goodbye to the three of them and make your way to the car with Simon, plucking his keys out of his hand and forcing him into the passenger seat despite his grumbled protests of how ‘he’s not that drunk’.

When the two of you finally get into your apartment, you let him lock up and turn out the lights while you go to the bedroom and get ready for bed.

“You looked really nice tonight,” Simon mutters when he finally walks in as you crawl into bed, “I’m glad you liked them.”

“I’m glad they liked me,” you huff, leaning back into the pillows, “They were all really nice guys.”

“Yeah,” Simon hums, tugging his shirt off of his head, taking his mask with it, “They’re good people.”

You nod your head and tuck your knees to your chest while he gets undressed. He slips on a plaid pair of pajama pants and shoves the drawer closed with his hip before yanking the blanket back to make room for his large body.

You bounce a little on the bed when he drops his weight onto it. He smacks his pillow a couple times before he lays back and sighs. It’s clear he’s still a little buzzed from the way he fights to keep his eyes open.

“Simon?” you ask, turning to face him.

That makes his eyes open back up before he looks at you, “What?”

“Can I kiss you?” you ask.

He snorts and it makes you smile. He reaches out and wraps his hand around the back of your head. You let him tug you down, pressing your hands against his firm chest as you kiss him.

His hand travels down your back as he sighs into your mouth. You pull away briefly to look into his eyes before you kiss him again, this time deepening it as much as you’re able. Simon sighs contentedly, his other hand coming up to caress your arm.

“I like kissin’ you…” you find yourself whispering against his lips.

He groans at that, the sound going straight to your core. You feel yourself clench around nothing, already starting to leak into your panties.

“Yeah?” he coos, cupping your cheek, thumbing over your lips, “You can kiss me all you want, love.”

You whimper, surging down to kiss him again. His hands grip your waist, intermittently squeezing you, like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands.

Suddenly, you feel the warm, slick slide of his tongue against your lips. You whimper and pull back, brows furrowed.

“Shh, love,” he coos, pulling you close again, “Jus’ relax and let me…”

You huff, struggling to catch your breath as he urges you to meet his lips again. You feel his tongue again and eagerly open your mouth, letting him taste the inside of your mouth. You shyly meet his tongue with yours and feel his grip on your waist tighten as he groans in his throat.

You’re sure you’ve soaked well through your panties by now. There’s an ache in your clit that you long to reach down and relieve – or better yet, have Simon relieve.

You bet his fingers would feel so damn good against you. You find yourself whimpering into the kiss at the thought alone. Simon lets out a husky laugh into your mouth before pulling away.

A string of spit connects your lips before it breaks and vanishes.

With a surge of confidence, you toss your leg over his waist. He grunts when your weight settles on his hips, on his cock. It’s chubbed up against his thigh from kissing you and he knows you can feel it.

“What’re you doin’, baby?” he huffs, unable to stop his hands from traveling up the front of your body.

You grab his wrist and boldly slide it under the hem of your shirt. He bites his lip to keep from moaning when he feels your bare breast fill his palm. You see the way his eyes start to roll back before he looks at you again. It makes you throb in your panties and you can’t resist grinding against him a little before he grabs your waist and stops you.

“Si…” you whimper, pressing your hands against his chest, “‘S wrong?”

“Can’t,” he clears his throat and sinks into the bed, “Can’t do this, love.”

“Why not?” you ask, feeling a pit of disappointment in your gut, “You don’t want to? I just thought…”

You feel your face burn with humiliation as you slide off of his lap. Simon lets you, simply laying there on his back, eyes closed and a knit between his brows, as he evens his breathing out. You fight back tears as you sit there, biting the inside of your lip anxiously.

“Not…not tonight, sweetheart,” he finally says, reaching over to pet your hair, “Been drinkin’ ‘nd I want to be sober for it, yeah?”

It would have been a solid excuse if it didn’t sound so flimsy coming from his lips. Like he doesn’t even believe it himself.

“Yeah…” you offer, giving him a wobbly smile before turning out the light.

You’re too embarrassed to cuddle into him that night.

“Can I ask you something?” you find yourself muttering as you relax on the couch with him, watching some old movie he picked out, “As long as you promise not to get mad.”

He snorts, taking a sip of his tea, “Won’t get mad.”

“I just want to know…” you clear your throat and sit up straight a little more, going over the question in your head, “Why did you leave that night…leave like that, just to have sex?”

He tenses up immediately, you can feel it. He shifts where he sits, spreading his legs just a little wider so he can sink deeper into the couch, “We already talked about this.”

You wince at his clipped tone, knowing you’re stepping into dangerous territory, “I know but…I want to know the real reason.”

He catches his bottom lip between his teeth and sighs, keeping his eyes trained on the TV, “You think I was lyin’ to you?”

Now he sounds mad. You quickly shake your head, “No, Si. I-I’m not trying to start a fight, I swear. I don’t think you were lying. I just think you…weren’t telling me everything.”

He sighs. You can see the way his jaw ticks when he clenches it, “Is that right?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, scooting a little closer to him, placing your hands on his chest, smoothing his shirt down a bit, “It was just…out of character for you, Si. I was really upset and you knew that. It wasn’t like you to just…leave. Just to get laid.”

He finally looks at you, just out of the corner of his eye. You meet the look, offering him an encouraging smile to show that you’re not upset or anything.

“All night,” he finally mutters, “You’d been kickin’ in your sleep. Kept wakin’ me up.”

You nodded, a look of confusion on your face. You had no idea where this was going.

“You started sayin’ my name,'' he continued, “Moanin’ my name. Fuck, it was drivin’ me crazy.”

Your face flushes hot when you hear that. It all suddenly comes rushing back to you – what you’d been dreaming about.

“You threw your leg over mine and I could–” he cuts himself off, his throat moving with how hard he swallows.

“Could what?” your voice comes out shockingly breathy.

He catches it, looking at you. You can see the way his pupils widen immediately when he meets your gaze. It’s like he can see right through you, see the fact you’re dripping into your panties again. Just from this conversation alone.

“I could feel how fuckin’ wet you were,” he brings a shaky hand up and runs it through his hair before he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “Couldn’t fuckin’ deal with it. I had to…let it out somehow.”

“So you knew that I wanted you…like that?” you find yourself asking.

He scoffs and shakes his head, “Didn’t think about it like that. Figured it was just a dream and that’s all it was.”

“Wasn’t just a dream,” you assure, scooting closer to him.

Simon’s breath catches in his throat when you lean over him, resting your hand on the arm rest on his other side, letting it support your weight. You stand on your knees, making you just a little taller than him before you lean down and kiss him.

He remains completely still, like he’s processing. His hands flounder in the air for a second before he’s carefully pushing you to sit back down. You slump against your heels and look at him, perturbed.

“Why..?”

“I need to make dinner,” he says lamely.

“Simon…” you admonish, knowing he’s lying.

He gets up, knees cracking as he does. He winces a little bit before he bends down to pick up the blanket that fell to the floor when he stood. You kept your eyes on him, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. You almost let him go but before you can stop him, you grab his arm.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, Simon,” you mutter, “I keep trying to make things go further with you but I just keep making a fool of myself and I–”

“‘S not you,” he assures softly, taking your hand in his, “‘S all me, baby.”

“So why…” you frown, “I want you.”

He shakes his head, “Night you told me how you felt. You sounded scared.”

You remember, the way his touch had made anxiety fill you. You had wanted him, of course, but for some reason it had just been so damn awful at the same time. You hadn’t really dwelled on why that was.

“It wasn’t ‘cause of you, Si,” you assured, shifting so your feet were on the floor rather than under you, “I promise. I-I was just nervous, I think. That’s all.”

“I don’t want…” he licks his lips, seemingly thinking over his next words carefully before he says them slowly, “I don’t to hear you sound like that with me again. ‘S why I’ve been avoidin’ it. ‘Cause I don’t want you to get scared again.”

You shake your head, rising to your feet, stepping in front of him. You take his hands in yours and squeeze them, “I don’t want to make a fool of myself with you, Simon.”

He frowns, “You know I would never think poorly of you.”

You smile and shrug, “I know that. I think…that time was just…too soon. After that night at the bar and everything that happened. And then the fact I’m so inexperienced that it��s laughable. I think…I just wasn’t ready for it. I needed to go at my own pace and I have been.”

“I don’t want you to push yourself,” he hums, “I know that night at the bar was terrifying,” he brings a hand up to brush over your cheek, “I understand if you’re not goin’ to be ready for a long time. It’s normal to not be ready after what happened to you.”

You huff, “I’ve been trying to show you that I’ve been ready for a while now, Si. I was anxious at first, yes. But now it’s…like a good kind of nervous.”

“A good kind of nervous?” he mutters, hands moving to your hips to pull you closer. Your breath hitches in your throat and you nod dumbly, “Tell me all about it.”

“L-Like my heart races,” you breathe, “And I feel scared that I’m gonna do something silly and embarrassing but like I want to learn and…and I want to do good for you.”

“Fuck,” Simon groans, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder, “Can’t say shit like that to a man like me, love.”

“Why not?” you whimper, feeling your knees tremble in excitement when you feel his hands start to wander.

“‘Cause…” he whispers, running his hands up your sides, “Makes me think some nasty shit, sweetheart.”

You swallow thickly at the promise in his voice, “Simon…”

You sound so wrecked already and it makes him moan softly in your ear, “Tell me about it, baby.”

Just like that, you’re spilling your guts to him, “Get so wet for you, Si, all the time. I want you so bad that it hurts.”

“Yeah?” he breathes, finally pulling his head from where he was hiding in your shoulder, tilting your chin up, “Where’s it hurt, baby? Hm? Right in that needy little cunt?”

You whimper immediately, looking up at him with wide, hazy eyes and nod, “T-Tried to touch myself. Thinkin’ about you made it hurt so I couldn’t help myself. Thought about you when I did.”

He hums as you babble to him but his mind latches onto one particular word, “Tried, baby? What do you mean "tried?”

Your cheeks burn hot at the slip up. Would he think you were silly for it?

“C-Can’t do it right,” you confess softly, hoping he doesn’t see how embarrassed you are, “Try so hard but n-nothin’ ever happens.”

Simon moans at that. Loud and unbridled, “What’re you sayin’, baby? That you can’t make yourself cum, s’that it?” You shake your head bashfully, “Fuckin’ hell. That’s adorable.”

“D-Don’t tease me, Si,” you whimper but the seat of your panties is so fucking wet that it’s sticking to you.

He hums, a predatory smile spreads across his face, “Am I bein’ mean, love?” You nod your head, tearfully staring up at him. It only makes his smile widen, canines popping out, “‘M sorry. Can’t help myself when you tell me ‘bout how you touch your pretty little pussy and just can’t make yourself cum like you need. Think I can do it for you, hm? Want me to try and make you cum?”

You vigorously nod your head, uncaring how fucking needy you look to him. He’s offering to give you what you’ve wanted for years – to give you a real, honest to God orgasm. And you weren’t going to let this chance slip away.

“Want you on the bed,” he suddenly whispers, “On your back, lose the pants but keep everything else on.”

With a jerk of his head in the direction of the bedroom, you take off. You hear him chuckle behind you at your excitement. He makes sure the door is locked before he heads back to the bedroom.

You’re there just like he asked, pants pooled on the floor, leaving you in nothing but an old t-shirt of his and a pair of the cutest little lilac colored panties he’s seen. You’ve got your knees pinned together, clenching your thighs but laying perfectly still in waiting for him.

“So fuckin’ good for me,” he praises, grinning when you whimper and tremble at his words, “Oh, sweet thing likes to be praised, huh?”

You nod your head, “Wanna be good for you, Si.”

“That’s sweet, baby,” he coos, reaching to the back of his collar so he can tug his shirt off of his head.

Your heart hammers away in your chest when he crawls onto the bed, hands on either side of your head. He looks so big like this, on top of you, completely blocking any view you had of your ceiling and instead filling your viewline with just him. He leans down and kisses you, humming contentedly when you eagerly kiss back. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders as he uses one hand to tug your legs open so he can slot himself between them.

You cry out when he presses himself against your core. He’s wearing nothing but his jeans but you can feel the heat radiating through the thick material.

“Shit, look at that,” he whispers, leaning back on his heels to admire the nice little wet patch that has stained your panties, “You already this wet, baby?”

“Kissin’ you always makes me this wet, Si,” you sweetly confess and oh, you are just so precious.

His hands slide up your stomach, moving your t-shirt up and up until it sits crumpled under your chin. Your tits are bare and move with every gasping breath that you take.

Simon’s hands are just as rough and warm as you’d expect them to be. His thumbs come up and glide over your nipples until they harden into stiff little peaks for him.

Then his mouth is wrapping around one, swirling his tongue around it before pulling off with a lewd pop. His hand pinches the other nipple, rolling it between his fingers as he listens to you whimper and sigh.

“Please, Si,” you whine, “I-It hurts, please.”

“It hurts?” he hums, leaving a fleeting kiss against the nipple his tongue was torturing just a moment ago, “Where? Hm?”

His hand travels down your body, cupping your cunt through your panties. You gasp, arching your hips just a bit to grind against his palm. He lets you, before he meanly pins your hips down with his other hand.

“Where, love?” he smooths the pad of his thumb over the seam of your cunt through your panties. The fabric is saturated with your slick, letting him see every part of you through shape alone. His thumb finds your clit, the little bud poking out through the fabric from how hard and swollen it's become, “Here? ‘S it your pretty clit that hurts, love?”

You nod, eyes rolling back in your head when he presses his thumb against the bud, trapping it under his finger so he can roll mean little circles over it. You’d be mindlessly rutting your hips by now if he didn’t have his other arm slung over your hips to keep you pinned nice and still like he wants.

It already feels so different than when you touched yourself. Maybe because it’s him or maybe because he’s so experienced.

That thought makes you equal parts jealous and equal parts turned on. He’d slept with plenty of people but now he was using that expertise to make you feel good.

“Can you take them off, please?” you whine, pitchy and sweet from arousal.

“Asked so sweetly for me,” he coos, hitching his thumbs into the band of your panties before giving them a firm tug.

You quickly lift your hips, letting him tug them down and off of your feet. You expect him to toss them away but instead he holds them up, thumbing over the slickness in the crotch. You watch him with wide eyes as he analyzes it. Your breath hitches when he suddenly brings them towards his face and licks a wide stripe of the fabric, moaning when he gets a good laste of your syrupy sweet slick.

“Simon!” you gasp – admonish, leaning up to snatch them out of his grasp.

His eyes open, he hadn’t even realized he’d closed them, to look at you. He licks his lips like a dog licking its chops when it tastes something real delicious.

He doesn’t even comment on what he just did or the pure embarrassment that is written all over your face. Instead, he grips underneath your knees and yanks you down the bed towards him so your hips are situated in his lap.

“Jus’ let me touch you, love,” he whispers, “I’ll work a nice little orgasm out of you in no time, yeah?”

You nod your head because you trust him. You know he’s going to be able to give you what you need so badly. You don’t even question it – especially when you feel how good it feels when he uses his thumbs to spread your folds open for him. He groans when he sees the sticky strings of slick that display just how turned on you are.

Pretty little hole clenching sporadically around nothing, dribbling more creamy arousal that makes his tongue feel like lead in his mouth. A pretty clit that twitches and throbs under his scrutinizing gaze. But you make no move to cover yourself and hide from his gaze.

He finally touches the bud directly and it’s like electricity strikes through you. You lose control of your body as your back arches and your thighs violently twitch. Your cheeks burn when you hear him chuckle softly at your reaction.

“Sensitive,” he huffs, a crooked little grin on his face as he brushes his thumb over your clit again, garnering the same reaction as before from you, “Fuck, can’t believe you’re this sensitive and can’t make yourself cum.”

“‘S cause it’s you, Si,” you sweetly confess.

And it’s true. Having him touch you like this directly – feeling his callused skin over the most sensitive little part of you is euphoric. It doesn’t feel anything like when you touch yourself at all. It feels magnified, you feel like a live wire and everything feels like too much. But you don’t do anything to impede him because you trust him more than anything – especially like this, with your body.

He replaced his thumb with his middle finger, prodding at your entrance. You almost think he’s going to press inside you but he doesn’t – instead, he gathers your slick up on his finger and drags it up to your clit. He softly circles the bud, cock kicking against his thigh when you sigh and croon so sweetly for him.

Your cunt makes sticky noises as he continues doing this, gathering your arousal and lathering your precious bud up with it so he can so softly play with it. His touches aren’t enough to actually work you to the edge, it’s much too slow and soft but it feels good. He waits for you to relax against the bed, lashes fluttering as you whimper and twitch on the bed for him.

“There you go, sweetheart,” he whispers, leaning forward to press a kiss against your trembling thigh, “Relax f’me. Want you nice and soft for me so I can get my fingers in this tight little cunt.”

You gasp at that, partly in excitement and also in apprehension. You’ve never actually put anything inside yourself before – except once, you put your finger in and it burned so you never tried it again.

“D-Dont…” you find yourself muttering, making him freeze. He thinks you’ve changed your mind, anxiety getting the better of you and he’s fully prepared to propel himself away from you at a moment's notice, “Be gentle, okay?”

His gaze softens when he looks at you, “Won’t hurt you, love. I promise.”

You remain relaxed for him when he carefully prods you with his middle finger. He keeps his thumb pressed against your clit, not rubbing it or anything, just keeping a nice pressure that keeps you sagged against the pillows.

It doesn’t feel anything like when you tried that one time with yourself. Everything is so much wetter and more pliant. It’s like your walls just suck the digit in, even though it’s so much bigger than your own finger.

You sigh softly when you finally have something to clench around. Simon gives you a sweet kiss to the spot right underneath your belly button in silent praise. He keeps his lidded, brown eyes on your face, watching every little expression you make with rapt attention.

He slowly and carefully fucks his middle finger into you, feeling the way you slowly relax around him, soaking his skin with your arousal. He smooths his free hand up the length of your body, abandoning your clit to wrap his palm around your breast. You place your own hand over his, encouraging him to squeeze harder.

“How’s that feel, love?” he asks, still sliding his finger in and out of you.

“Okay…” you reply, keeping your hand over his on your chest, “But it…um…”

“What?” he urges, “Tell me what you feel.”

“I-It feels nice but…” you trail off and he hums, nodding his head.

“Doesn’t feel good?” he finishes for you. You nod your head and he laughs softly, “I know, baby. Jus’ tryin’ to get you used to the feeling and then I’ll make it feel real good, alright?”

“Okay,” you whisper but he can tell you’re not too convinced that it’s going to feel much better.

You’re worried that the same thing is going to happen – it’ll feel really good and then you’re never going to be able to climb over that wall. You hate to imagine disappointing him, failing to get off. You’d hate for him to put all this work in and you just can’t cum in the end.

“Hey,” he coos, “Get out of your head, pretty. Don’t worry about a thing, alright?”

You take a deep breath and slowly let it out, allowing yourself to relax against the bed again. Simon waits for you to be nice and pliant around his finger before he starts to fit his ring finger alongside it. He catches sight of the furrow in your brow when he stretches you around two of his fingers. It burns but when Simon brings his thumb back to your clit, tapping against the bud, it vanishes. Your thighs twitch and you whimper, walls clenching in time with the little taps until the burning vanishes completely.

“There we are,” he praises, “Knew you could do it, sweetheart.”

“A-Are you gonna add another?” you find yourself asking.

“Later,” he responds, scissoring the two fingers he has snug inside your cunt, “‘M a big man, love. Gonna need you nice and stretched for me.”

You whimper at that, walls clenching around his fingers as he slowly begins to fuck them in and out of you. Your cheeks burn when you hear the loud, squishing noises your hole makes every time he stuffs them back inside.

After a moment of just getting you used to being stretched on two of his thick digits, he suddenly crooks them up and hits something inside you that makes your back arch. It causes a tingling feeling that you’ve never experienced to heat your tummy every time he touches it.

“Simon!” you squeal, trying to clench your thighs closed but his broad shoulders keep them open, “Th-That feels-!”

“I know, baby,” he coos cockily, grinding his fingertips against that little spot that makes you so gooey and creamy around his fingers, “Feels real good right there, I know.”

Your back arches and your jaw drops. You can’t do anything but moan and cry out as he fucks against that spot. He’s urged on by your sounds of pure pleasure, eyes flicking between where he’s got your pretty cunt spread open and the euphoric expressions you can’t do anything to hide.

It’s so precious, seeing you so open and loud for him. You don’t do anything to hide your sounds of pleasure nor do you even think of faking any of them for his sake. Every little thing you’re feeling, you express, and you can’t help yourself because it’s all so new and so much.

That hot, tingling feeling in your core only intensifies with every experienced stroke of his fingers. Your eyes are rolling back every time he touches that magnificent spot inside you, abusing it with his fingers until your walls are soft and malleable for him again.

And then he brings his index finger into it. He’s even more slow and careful as he fits it in beside the other two fingers. It doesn’t burn like when he had given you his second finger but it’s a certain stretch that simply feels strange.

He gets you stuffed open on his three fingers, up to the third knuckle. You’re spread so wide and squeeze his fingers so tight that it makes him moan when he thinks about what it will feel like around his cock.

If you’re this tight around just his fingers then you’re going to feel positively euphoric around him.

“Simon…” you coo, reaching down to card your fingers through his hair.

He grunts in acknowledgement, but is unwilling to part his gaze from the sight of the creamy mess you’ve begun to leave on his fingers. Your pretty clit is twitching and so swollen, glistening from your juices and he suddenly has the inescapable desire to wrap his mouth around it.

You’re not even looking when he decides to do it. It’s like he can’t stop himself.

All you feel is something wet and hot wrap around the little bud. You practically wail at the feeling of his tongue sliding against it. Your feet kick aimlessly, hitting his back and shoulders as you flail beneath his body.

You sob his name, yanking harshly on his hair in a way that hurts but he’s not going to stop you. He knows it’s mean to do this, not even warning you or easing you into the feeling before he’s suckling your clit. His tongue slips in circles around it, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. His ears practically ring from how loud you’re crying out for him.

His three fingers remain buried inside you but he’s hardly able to move them from how tight you’re squeezing them. All he can do is grind his fingers against your g-spot but it only makes your pretty body more twitchy and makes you squirm even more beneath him. He has to hold you down so you can’t get away.

He doesn’t want your precious pussy to be ripped away from him, your juices are making his taste buds tingle – you taste so damn good.

That familiar heat begins to grow in your core – one you’ve experienced many times before by yourself. You cry and wail for him, sobbing his name and gripping his hair.

“S-Si, don’t stop, please, please, please–” you choke on your own cries, slamming your head into the pillows as your back arches painfully hard.

He grunts lowly, blonde lashes fluttering as he watches your body’s pure, unfiltered reactions to this pleasure. He knows you’re getting close, can feel you clenching around him and your clit pulsing on his tongue in time with your heartbeat.

You feel yourself reaching that wall, the one you can never overcome. But it feels different this time, the pleasure isn’t slowing. It’s not fading like it always does when you’ve got your own fingers on your bud.

It always seems to slip out of your grasp by this point.

This is it, you think. You’re going to cum. You’re finally going to fucking cum.

Then everything stops.

His tongue is gone from your clit and his fingers are nowhere to be found. Simon’s shoulders rise and fall as he watches your face flicker through a range of emotions before your eyes fill with tears and you look at him – utterly pitiful and hopeless.

“Wh-Why…” you finally whisper, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth.

Your cunt pulses and throbs around nothing, the heat of your orgasm quickly dissipating, leaving that horribly empty and unsatisfying feeling in its wake.

“Sorry, baby,” he coos, genuine and soft as he leans up to kiss your face, “That was mean, huh? ‘M sorry. Jus’ want you to have your first orgasm on a cock, love.”

That doesn’t do anything to quell your disappointment but you nod anyway, wiping away some stray tears that trickle from your eyes.

“Please,” you breathlessly whisper, “Please, Simon. Want your cock, please. I-I was so close. It felt so good,” you start babbling, eyes falling to the hard outline of his cock in his jeans, “I wanna cum so bad, Si. Y-You promised. Please, just give me your cock. Please? Please? Simon!”

Simon’s mouth goes dry as he hears your babbled begging. Fuck, you’re absolutely aching for it. All you can think about is cumming. He never thought he’d get to hear you beg for him like this, so pathetically. You should be embarrassed, begging for cock like this when you’ve only just now gotten your first taste of being stretched open. Yet here you are fuckin’ crying for it.

His cock drools pre down his thigh, he can feel how wet his boxers have become from how much he’s leaking it. He’s aching in his jeans – he can’t pretend he doesn’t want it just as badly as you do.

“Shit, alright!” he snarls, wrapping a hand around your throat to force you to look at him. You gasp at the rough treatment, “Jus’ shut up and I’ll give it to you, yeah?”

You obediently nod your head, still staring up at him with those wide, teary eyes. He tries to act like his hands aren’t fucking trembling when he yanks his belt off. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this needy – this excited to get his cock inside a pussy.

But it’s you. You’re special.

He loves you. This isn’t like the one night stands and hookups he’s had in the past. This is different.

He feels like a fumbling teenager the way he clumsily yanks his belt out of the loops and shoves his jeans down his thighs along with his underwear. His cock, big and heavy, hangs under its own weight – it never slaps up against his stomach. He wasn’t just chatting shit when he said he was a big guy.

He wrapped his hand around himself, giving it a few, firm tugs. He feels your eyes on him, watching the way he touches himself and it sends heat through him. He scoots closer to you again, pulling back his foreskin to show the fat, leaky head that he meanly taps against your clit.

You gasp a cute little ‘ah!’ when he does that brings a smile to his face. He can’t say he’s the best lay for a virgin because he’s so big and he’s a brute – it’s in his nature. But he’s trying his best for you.

“Alright, baby,” he coos, leaning on one forearm above your head, draping his big body over yours. He easily manhandles you into position, caging your knees against your chest and wrapping himself around you, “Just relax for me, hm? Can you do that f’me?”

You nod your head and shakily put your hands on his shoulders, cupping his jaw to bring him down to kiss you. He sighs into your lips, using his free hang to grip the base of his cock, prodding against your hole. You’re so slippery that it slides out of you and slips up your clit. You whimper at the feeling, thighs twitching at the stimulation.

When he finally starts to press inside, your nails bite into his shoulders. It stings – it hurts. He’s so big, making your poor little cunt burn the deeper he presses himself. The head pops in and your hips jump at the feeling, his cock slipping back out.

He huffs, dropping his forehead against your shoulder, “Fuck, sit still.”

“S-Sorry!” you whimper, “I’m sorry!”

“Shh,” he sighs, kissing your cheek, “‘S okay, baby. Hurts, huh?”

“A little,” you whimper, trying to downplay it so he won’t stop.

He hums and presses a kiss against the corner of your mouth. He knows that working an orgasm out of you before making you take his cock would be the nice thing to do but he’s selfish. He wants to feel your orgasm around his cock – where you deserve to have it.

It’s your very first orgasm after all. It needs to be good and he knows he can make it real good once he can get you speared on his cock.

So he grips himself again, sitting up for just a moment to lewdly spit on your pussy. It hits your clit and trickles down where he catches it with the head of his cock. He leans over your body and starts to push in again. This time he tucks his arms under your shoulders and pins you impossibly against him, leaving you with nowhere to run when he starts to press into you.

You whimper, feet kicking against his back when he pushes deeper than before – past the head. He knows it hurts, you’re stretched beyond your limit and he waits with bated breath for you to say the word and tell him to stop.

But you don’t.

You just grapple your arms around his waist and dig your nails in. His skin is sweaty by now and it makes getting any purchase on him difficult. You let out a watery little whimper that has him freezing. You’re speared on half his cock when he finally looks at you.

Your eyes are teary and they slowly drip down your cheeks.

“Do you want to stop?” he asks, brushing some away with his thumb.

You immediately shake your head, no hesitation, “No! K-Keep goin’, Si.”

“Don’t cry, pretty,” he shushes, keeping his grip under your shoulders and his hips pinned firmly against yours so you can’t squirm when he starts pressing in again. Your mouth opens in a silent gasp, eyes fluttering from the ache that settles where he’s stretching you wide, “‘S okay, just take a deep breath. ‘M almost in, love, you’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me. Takin’ all of my cock so deep, just like you deserve. Hear me? This cock s’all yours now, yeah? Can have it whenever you need it.”

Your walls spasm around his cock as he talks, making him groan low in his chest. He’s almost there, can feel his balls starting to tap against you the deeper he gets until finally, his hips meet yours and you wail.

He prods painfully against your cervix and he knows that it’s uncomfortable but he’s not willing to pull back just yet. He needs you to get used to being stretched and stuffed full of every inch of him. He takes care to do slow, gentle grinds, his pelvis catching your clit that eventually makes you relax.

“That’s it,” he praises, “Just relax and let me make you feel good.”

He finally eases off of you, balancing his weight on his forearms on either side of your head, hovering over you. He slowly pulls his hips back, watching you slump against the bed when he finally stops pressing on your cervix.

He finally starts fucking you, sliding his cock out just a bit before rolling his hips forward again. It's slow and soft, just testing the waters and getting you used to this new stimulation.

It feels entirely different from his fingers. His cock is bigger, fills you so much more, touches deeper.

His cock reaches spots deep inside you that his fingers didn’t even reach. But he’s permanently pressing against that spot his fingers were torturing. It feels so fucking good.

Simon can see the way your eyes roll back as he carefully fucks you. Your first cock and you’re taking it so damn well. It makes him want to see how much more you can take but he knows he needs to ease you into it, he doesn't want to overwhelm you.

“Si…” you sigh softly, blinking as you struggle not to float off and become drunk with pleasure.

“I know, pretty,” he coos, kissing your cheek before leaning back on his heels, fastening the thrusts of his hips.

You can’t keep quiet now, mouth falling open to let out the most precious sounds of pure pleasure. You’re staring at him with wide eyes, like he’s hung the moon and stars in the sky just for you. His cock fucking throbs at the look of wonder that crosses your face. He knows you’re getting close, can feel how tight you’re clamping around him and he can see how much you’re creaming around him – making a mess at the base of his cock and in the thatch of curls there.

“You gonna cum?” he coos, grinning when you shake your head, “Of course you are. I can fuckin’ feel it, baby. Know you got one for me, go ahead. Cum on my cock real nice, c’mon.”

“C-Can’t,” you whimper. It’s too much. You’re so wet. It’s fucking messy but you feel yourself at that damn wall, hanging on a thread and waiting for euphoria to come but it doesn’t, “Please! Simon! Please, I-I can’t! Please, please, please…”

“Fuck,” his hisses when he hears you begging to cum on his cock, “Come on then, baby. You can do it. Just let it go, let me fuck it outta you.”

You toss your head back into the pillows as a sob is ripped from your chest. As if he can sense how much you’re struggling, he brings his thumb down to press against your clit. Your eyes fucking roll, only the whites of them visible. You clench down around him like a vice and it only takes a couple little swipes of his thumb for you to tumble over the edge.

It feels unlike anything you could have ever imagined. Pleasure soars through you and your hearing cuts out. It feels like you lose control of your body, unable to do anything but thrash and twitch as he fucks you through it. You’re not sure if you would prefer him to stop or keep going because it’s all so fucking much that it hurts.

You’re gushing around him, drenching his cock in sticky, creamy cum that drips in thick strings down his balls. Holy fuck.

It feels like hours that you’re speared on his cock, cumming and cumming before it finally leaves you and you collapse against the bed. You’re still twitching, entire body shivering until he finally slows his thrusts to soft little rolls of his hips. He takes his thumb off of your clit and you’re thankful because it was starting to become unpleasant.

You swallow despite how dry your mouth is, eyes finally focusing on him. His brows are furrowed and his bottom lip is tucked into his mouth. Pretty, brown eyes are locked on you and you suddenly feel shy.

Had he been watching you the whole time? You hoped you didn’t make any ugly faces or embarrassing noises.

“Fuck,” he coos, seemingly sensing your shame, “That was a fuckin’ orgasm, love.”

You’re panting, you realize. And you’re tired. You’ve never felt more relaxed in your life.

All you can think is that you’ve been missing out on that your whole life? Now you’re not sure you’ll be able to even live without it ever again.

Simon’s hands cup under your knees and pin them to your chest. You gasp as he bends you as he sees fit. You’re limp, so completely drunk on the pleasure you just experienced that you simply let him.

But you realize he’s even deeper like this – and it doesn’t hurt like it did before. He’s pressing against your back wall and it actually feels good. You feel so sensitive inside, like you can feel every twitch of his cock.

He’s still languidly dragging his cock in and out of you. It’s a fucking mess between your legs, you’ve cum so fucking much that it’s everywhere. He’s never been covered like this before and it’s fucking hot.

Your cum sticks between the two of you in little strings that break and reform every time his hips meet and leave yours. Your little clit is puffy and swollen from your orgasm and he wants to press his thumb against it again but he knows the poor little thing is much too sensitive still.

Your legs flop uselessly as he fucks you, eases you past overstimulation until you’re sweetly cooing for him again. He takes that chance to fuck you properly again, intent on finding his own orgasm deep in your cunt.

His heavy balls slap against your ass. He wants to cum. He plans to make himself cum like this, just using your pretty pussy. But then he sees your eyes widen again and your lips part almost curiously and his eyes narrow.

“You feel it again, huh, sweetheart?” he goads, shifting his weight on his knees so his hips are pressed even closer to yours.

“C-Can’t,” you whisper, the same thing you had before. But it’s different now, “W-Won’t be able to, Si.”

“S that a challenge, love?” he teases, a crooked little smile on his face. You sleepily shake your head, “Hmm, I think I can fuck another one out of you. One orgasm won’t be enough, two is a good number for now. Until I train this little cunt to cum for me all night long.”

You whimper, reaching out the claw at his forearms where he pins your knees to your chest. You’re held so uselessly open, cunt completely vulnerable to his fat cock stuffing you full. His pelvis hits your clit in a way that makes the little bud tingle and your cunt clenches pathetically around him with every thrust he gives you.

Sweet little ‘ah, ah, ah’s’ are punched from your lungs every time he sinks completely inside. He’s gripping your knees harshly, squeezing where he has a grip as his own orgasm starts to creep up on him but he’s going to give you another orgasm. He has to make you cum again, to see you lost in pleasure like that once more. He knows that will push him over the edge, give him what he needs. He wants to cum with you, fill you up while you’re in the throes of pure pleasure that only he has ever given you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he gasps, fighting the feeling of his own eyes rolling back in favor of watching you.

He loves the way you wear everything you feel on your face. From the looks of wonder when it feels really good to the little rolls of your eyes when he makes it hurt just a bit. It’s so cute.

Makes him want to play around with that little part of you – be a little mean to you.

“Cum,” he growls, fighting his own orgasm down, “Fuckin’ cum right now.”

“I can’t!” you wail, kicking against his hold on your knees, pressing down to spread you open even further.

His hips slam against yours, loud slaps and slick noises of your gooey cunt filling his ears, “You can. You will. Cum, sweetheart. You better fuckin’ cum.”

But you shake your head. It’s so close, you can feel it. It’s creeping up on you and you want it so bad. You want to feel that pleasure again. But you’re not even sure you’re going to be able to cum again, it feels so much more sensitive than before. It’s too much.

Simon bares his teeth, letting go of one of your legs to drift between your thighs. Your eyes widen, you think he’s going to rub it again – it’s so sensitive that you’re not sure you’ll be able to take it.

But instead, he does something else.

You hear it before you feel it, a soft little slap followed by the feeling of being electrocuted. Simon watches you with lidded eyes to see how you react. Just like he expected, you wail and your body gives a mean twitch at the impact.

So he does it again.

And again.

Not too hard, just enough for it to hurt a little bit. A sting against a terribly sensitive little bud. It’s mean – he’s mean. But he can’t fucking help it.

He needs you to cum for him again.

“Cum,” he snarls, giving your clit another slap.

As if on command, it sends you over the edge. Your legs kick out and he has to abandon your clit to hold you down, pinning you harshly to the bed as he uses all his weight to fuck down into your spasming little cunt. You’re cumming so hard around him that you stop breathing. He hears the hitch of breath and doesn’t hear the exhale. All you do is lay there, cry for him and cum.

He finds his end just as violently, tossing his head back to moan into the room as cum erupts from his cock. His thrusts grow sloppy as he milks the orgasm out of himself, voice breaking as he whimpers from how fucking good it feels.

Like no orgasm he’s ever experienced. It’s like he can’t stop cumming, filling you up so much that it oozes out from around his cock.

You’re trembling underneath him when he finally comes down, tearfully gazing up at him with your mouth agape, struggling to catch your breath.

“N-No more,” you pathetically whimper, legs twitching from the aftershocks, “C-Can’t take anymore, Si.”

“Shh,” he shushes, letting your legs go so you can relax comfortably as he pulls his cock from your pussy.

It’s twitching and clenching sporadically, still coming down from your orgasm. It makes his cum drip out of your cunt, a mess that spreads to the already messy sheets. Your cum and his mix together to make a sticky, gooey mess that makes his mouth water. He wants to eat it up, stuff his tongue into your tight little hole and swallow it all down.

But he can’t. Maybe next time, he vows.

His cock gives a valiant kick at the thought of getting to do this again. He sits on his heels, gazing at his messy cock as if softens. He feels dazed, almost drunk.

Then he hears the softest little sniffle from you and his eyes snap up to your face to find your crumpled expression and tears falling down your face. You cover your face with your hands and earnestly begin to cry.

“Hey, it’s alright, love,” he coos, laying beside you to tuck you into his chest.

“I-I don’t know why I’m crying,” you sob, wrapping your arms around his waist as you cry into him.

“It happens,” he assures, “It was a lot and you’re just a little overwhelmed s’all. Just let it out, baby.”

And you do, weakly sobbing into his chest until it feels like you can’t cry anymore. He holds you through it all, rubbing your back and cooing sweet nothings in your ear until you grow silent.

“Alright, love?” he asks.

“S-Sorry, Si,” you sniffle, finally pulling out of the spot in his arms you were hiding in, “I-I don’t want you to think I didn’t want it or that it was bad. I just…”

He gives you a soft smile, leaning forward to kiss you. It’s short and sweet, “I don’t think that. Like I said, it happens. Sometimes people just cry after sex, nothin’ to worry about.”

“Are you sure?” you sniffle, wiping your cheeks dry when the tears finally stop.

“Positive,” he sits up, “Let’s get cleaned up, alright? We need to change the damn sheets, fuckin’ hell.”

You giggle as you look down at the sheets where a very visible dark spot is sitting where you once laid. You don’t even have time to be embarrassed before he’s swooping you off of the bed and escorting you to the bathroom.

It’s too small for both of you to fit but you make it work. He wipes you down with a warm cloth before hopping into the shower to rinse and clean himself before he gets out and lets you do the same. While you do that, he changes the bedding completely and replaces it with new sheets and blankets for the two of you to sleep in together.

When you finally stumble into the bedroom, he wraps his arms around you and urges you onto the bed. You giggle as you flop onto the bed before he crawls in after you and covers the both of you up, wrapping himself around you until you’re tucked securely against him.

“I take it you liked it?” he finally whispers.

You shyly nod, “I-It was um…fun.”

“Felt real good, huh?” he teases, grinning wolfishly when you whimper.

“Y-Yeah,” you whisper, “It felt really good. I already want to do it again.”

Simon groans, hugging you tightly before shaking his head, “You’re gonna be insatiable. Gonna give my cock a run for its money.”

You giggle, affectionately petting his hair before he looks at you with the softest expression you’ve ever seen. It’s like his eyes are sparkling in the low light of the bedroom. He leans forward and ever so softly kisses your forehead, then your nose, before he reaches your lips. He pecks them softly, pulling back for just a second before he kisses you again.

“I love you,” he whispers, so soft that you almost miss it.

And your heart begins to race. You almost struggle to find the words to reciprocate. But when you do, he smiles and tucks you against him again, big arms wrapped around you like a bear hug.

It’s almost surreal. You can’t believe you’re here after everything – with him.

Like you’ve dreamed your whole life, he loves you just like you love him.

PART ONE.

do not modify, translate, or repost

#simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost smut #ghost x reader #cod smut #cod x reader

5K notes · View notes

whumptober · 8 months

Text

Whumptober 2023

Welcome to Whumptober 2023 — the sixth year running!

COMPLETIONISTS/PARTICIPANT BADGES CAN BE FOUND HERE

To those of you who participated last year, welcome back! To everyone joining this year, welcome!

Please make sure to read the Event Info carefully, as most of your questions will be answered there already. For everything else, you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here.

This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.

And this years playlist can be found here.

There are 139 prompt options in total this year - this is including the alternatives list! A special thanks goes out to those who took part in our trope vote back in July. From the 1526 responses to our list of 223 tropes, we looked through the popularity results, as well as your honourable mentions, and were able to produce this years prompts list. Stay tuned, as we will be posting some of the results at a later date!

We’re very excited to see the community come together once more and be a wild, chaotic bunch of creators and consumers of whump. Go wild with the prompts, and support your fellow creators - we wish you all the fun!

Best of luck and happy whumping,

Mods Vanne, Yenn, Kitty and Surro

(All 31 Themes + Prompts, Event Information and FAQs are posted below the cut!)

Whumptober 2023 Prompt List

No. 1: “But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.”

Safety Net | Swooning | “How many fingers am I holding up?”

No. 2: “I’ll call out your name, but you won’t call back.”

Thermometer | Delirium | “They don't care about you.”

No. 3: “Like crying out in empty rooms; with no-one there except the moon.”

Journal | Solitary Confinement | “Make it stop.”

No. 4: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.”

Cattle Prod | Shock | “You in there?”

No. 5: “You better pray I don't get up this time around.”

Debris | Pinned Down | “It's broken.”

No. 6: “Do or die, you’ll never make me; Because the world will never take my heart.”

Recording | Made to Watch | “It should have been me.”

No. 7: " “I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds.”

Alleyway | Radio Silence | “Can you hear me?”

No. 8: “I’ve got soul, but I’m not a soldier.”

Overcrowded ER | Outnumbered | “It’s all for nothing.”

No. 9: “Learning everything ain't what it seems, that's the thing about these days.”

Polaroid | Mistaken Identity | “You're a liar.”

No. 10: “Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?”

Broken Phone | Stranded | “You said you'd never leave.”

No. 11: “All the lights going dark and my hope’s destroyed.”

Animal trap | Captivity | “No one will find you.”

No. 12: “I haven't slept in days but who's counting?”

Red | Insomnia | “I’m up, I’m up.”

No. 13: “It comes and goes like the strength in your bones.”

Cold Compress | Infection | “I don’t feel so good.”

No. 14: “Feed me poison, fill me ‘till I drown.”

Flare | Water Inhalation | “Just hold on.”

No. 15: “I don't need you to help me I can handle things myself.”

Makeshift Bandages | Suppressed Suffering | “I’m fine.”

No. 16: “Would you lie with me and just forget the world?”

Gurney | Flatline | “Don’t go where I can’t follow.”

No. 17: “You’re the lump in my throat and the knot in my chest.”

Collar | Touch Aversion | “Leave me alone.”

No. 18: “I tend to deflect when I’m feeling threatened.”

Blindfold | Tortured For Information | “Hit them harder.”

No. 19: “I’ll take one final step, all you have to do is make me.”

Floral Bouquet | Psychological | “I’m not as stupid as you think I am.”

No. 20: “People don’t change people, time does.”

Blanket | Found Family | “You will regret touching them.”

No. 21: “See the chains around my feet.”

Vows | Restraints | “Don't move.”

No. 22: “They never saw us coming, ‘til they hit the floor.”

Glass Shard | Vehicular Accident | “Watch out!”

No. 23: “It’s gonna get me by the end of the night.”

Shadows | Stalking | “Who’s there?”

No. 24: “I’ve got a head full of chemicals; mouth full of ridicule.”

Goodbye Note | Neglect | “I thought they were with you.”

No. 25: “You’re not delivering a perfect body to the grave.”

Storm | Buried Alive | “They’re not breathing!”

No. 26: “Sometimes I get so tired; I don’t even know myself.”

Seeing Double | Working To Exhaustion | “You look awful.”

No. 27: “You drew stars around my scars; But now I’m bleeding.”

Matches | Scars | “Let me see”

No. 28: “We might not make it to the morning; so go on and tell me now.”

Bloody Knife | Sacrifice | “You'll have to go through me.”

No. 29: “I only sink deeper the deeper I think.”

Scented Candle | Troubled Past Resurfacing | “What happened to me?”

No. 30: “It’s okay, just to say, ‘I’m not okay’.”

Borrowed Clothing | Bridal Carry | “Not much longer...”

No. 31: “I thought that I was getting better.”

Emptiness | Setbacks | “Take it easy.”

Alternatives List:

Betrayal

Aftermath of Failure

Brass Knuckles

Decoy

Body Modification

Playing Cards

Examination

Hunting

Drugging

Shaking

Panic

Broken

Miscommunication

Lab Rat

Reluctant Whumper

Event Info & Rules

~ Please read our extensive event info posts before sending us an ask ~

WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. The 'theme' of each day is the line of lyrics.

The prompts are merely to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don’t have to include the exact wording of prompts into your work). Feel free to run rampant on interpretation. For example, if the prompt is "flame", you could create something with reference to a candle/campfire, your character could have suffered a burn, or the flame could be related to the 'spark' of a relationship. It's truly up to you!

In total, there are 4 prompts for each day: there's lyrics, an object, a trope and a line of dialogue to choose from. We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks.

Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, photo/video/audio edits, paper crafts and elaborate recommendation lists (not just a list of links). Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.

When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag the with:

#whumptober2023 …..(the event tag)

#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(day number)

#lyric, #bruises, #stabbing, …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)

#fandom or #OC, … (ironman, originalcontent, oc …)

#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)

#teeth, #gore tw, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Add "tw" AFTER the trigger/content warning. )

#nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)

#your own tags go here

PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober-archive blog. They must be tagged in the order above. An elaborate post about our tagging system can be found [here]

Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.

Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month. A form will be published at the beginning of November asking you to tell us if you completed the event. You do not need to post anything you have created, we rely on trust and we will not check this.

Questions not addressed in one of our many event info posts can be directed to this blog. We will not answer any questions that have been answered in the FAQs or rules already.

Frequently Asked Questions

Q. How does this year’s prompt list work? What do I have to choose?

You can create something based on:

The overall theme/lyric of the day

Prompt 1, 2 or 3

One or several of the alternative prompts

A combination of the above

Q. Is [specific anything] allowed?

When in doubt: JUST DO IT!

Q. Do I have to do all 31 days?

Participate as much or little as you like! Just be sure to tag your posts properly (ex. #no.7, #radio silence). If you create works for 31 total theme days you will become a completionist. But apart from that, there are no repercussions if you don’t fill prompts for each day.

Q. Can I post early/late?

Yes, you can post whenever you want. We will only reblog posts during October, but you can use our prompts all year round. The day you post will only affect your probability of being reblogged.

Q. Will you reblog my post?

Due to the sheer number of content posted during Whumptober we can’t promise to reblog every single post. We will make a random selection trying to capture a wide variety of content. The following will increase your chances at being reblogged:

tag your post properly

post within 2-3 days of the theme you want to fill: if you fill the prompt for Day 1 your chances of being reblogged during October 1st to 3rd are highest and will go towards zero afterwards.

Q. What if I don’t understand a prompt/theme?

Send us an ask! We’re happy to help with wild, unhelpful clarifications or brainstorming. That being said, the themes are entirely up for interpretation. Don’t take them too literally. For example: You can be choking on a cherry, someone else can choke you or you could be choked up on emotions, etc.

Q. What kind of content can I make? Can it be NSFW?

This is a MIXED MEDIA event! You can write fic, post meta, doodle or paint, create a gifset or photo edit, link a song, or get crafty with video - anything goes. As for NSFW, make what you like, we just hope that you’ll tag your work accordingly so that others participating in the event can stay safe.

Q. Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges?

Absolutely, as long as the other challenges allow it too.

Q. Can I upload/repost my Whumptober content to other social media platforms?

Of course! You can post your own content wherever you like (or you can opt to not publish it at all). Additionally we’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there. It can be accessed here. The tumblr blog @whumptober-archive is the official archive, so please respect the boundaries of any closeted whumpers in your social circle.

Q. Can I use prompts to write a new chapter for an existing fic?

Yes.

Q. An existing fic I am currently writing contains many of the Whumptober prompts, can I use it?

If you are actively writing this fic at the moment with the Whumptober prompts in mind, yes. If you’ve previously posted something that checks the boxes, we ask that you not include it retroactively for this current year. You can, however, add new chapters relating to one or more of the prompts.

Q. What kind of characters can I write for?

Fandom characters, OC characters, human, furry, alien, cyborg, RPF, whoever you like. You can use the generic “whumpee” character or have specific ones.

Q. Does it have to take place in a specific fandom?

No, you can create works for your own worlds or for fandoms or for both. You can also create more generic or pan-fandom works. You can do cross-overs or use OCs, whatever you want.

Q. Can I use a prompt multiple times?

Yes, but it only counts once towards being a completionist.

Q. If I’m not comfortable with one day’s prompts can I use a prompt of a different day as a substitute and still be a completionist?

No, you can’t exchange prompts for different days. However, if all four prompts of a specific day make you uncomfortable, we have created an alternate prompts list that you can draw from. You can exchange any prompt with these, but please make sure not to use them twice.

Q. Where can I post my work?

Post where and how you want. You don’t have to (cross)post it to Tumblr or at all. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive.

Q. Can I start posting early?

You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? That being said, you can post early, but we won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st.

Q. Do I have to finish a fic I started/can I post WIP’s?

Yes you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish it in October for it to count towards being a completionist.

Q. Is co-writing allowed?

Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you.

Q. Do I have to create 31 standalone pieces to be considered a completionist or can I write one continuous story?

One continuous story is fine. The challenge is to write something for 31 prompts. If that’s spread over 31 fics or just one, you are still considered a completionist. (The same goes for every other media you choose.)

Q. Is there a min/max limit on word count?

There is no limit.

Q. Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many?

No limit and combine as many as you’d like.

Q. Is a hc/angst/emotional whump focus ok?

Of course! We are not going to establish a threshold for whumpiness. If you think it’s whumpy enough, then it’s whumpy enough. It can be physical, psychological, emotional, or any combination of the three.

Q. What’s considered nsfw?

See this post

Q. What is whump?

Typically the genre includes situations where a fictional character is hurt, be it emotionally, psychologically, or physically. Fanlore provides information here.

Q. My interpretation of the prompt isn’t whumpy at all, does that count?

If you don’t think your interpretation is whumpy, then it doesn’t count for Whumptober. Remember that whump comes in many forms, though, and that we don’t have a whump-checker or a threshold for how much whump needs to be included. If you think your interpretation contains enough whump to count, then it does.

Q. Can I start working on the prompts before October?

Absolutely! That’s why we post the prompts a month in advance. We recognise how difficult it can be creating for 31 days in “real time” so feel free to start creating early!

Q. How do I tag triggers?

tw at the end of the word, ex. #gore tw

Q. Do I have to use your tags?

Yes, if you want your work archived on the blog. If not, feel free to use whatever tags you want.

Q. Does combining prompts count towards completion?

Yes

Q. Can we @ you?

Yes but we mostly rely on the #whumptober2023 tag.

Q. Is there anything we are absolutely not allowed to write?

There are no rules, but please make sure to properly tag your trigger warnings. And keep in mind Tumblr’s policies if you are posting it here (or the policies for whatever site you use).

Q. Where can I go for brainstorming help?

Here on Discord or come into our ask box.

Q. My characters are minors, is that ok?

Yes, but as with everything else, use clear and descriptive tags.

Q. Can I cross post on other blogs?

Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable. You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once.

Note: This is a creation challenge, please don’t repost your old work under our tags (unless it’s been changed or edited for the event).

Thanks for reading, and happy whumping!

#whumptober2023 #whumptober 2023 prompts list #whumptober #prompts list #long post

7K notes · View notes

landitolover · 4 months

Text

𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒓, in which, if charles didn’t care for you, maybe a specific red bull driver he doesn’t really like, will.. part one here! ౨ৎ max verstappen x famous!reader

INSTAGRAM DMS

maxverstappen1 replied to your story

maxverstappen1

hey, i’m sorry about the break up

charles never deserved you though

yourusername

haha it’s okay

he didn’t do anything wrong though 😊

it was a mutual break up

maxverstappen1

ohhh, alright

that’s nice to know 😃

TWITTER

IMESSAGE , MAX & LANDO January 4th, 2024

max

Lando

lando

Max 🤔

Rare text, what do you need mate?

max

by any chance do you have yns number

lando

oh my god do you

finally have the balls to (attempt) to pull her

max

i’ve always had the balls :/

charles just beat me to it

lando

he was quite charming

max

he’s a cheater, he isn’t very charming

lando

thats why i said ‘was’

max

ok but do u have her number

lando

duh? we’re like this🤞🏼

it’s xxx-xxx-xxx

max

okk thank you very much

lando

of course mate

goodluck you’ll need it

also u will be talked (possibly made fun of)

about in the gc. so be careful..

max

uhm ok mate

bye….. 😃

INSTAGRAM

yourprivate

Liked by alex_albon, lilymhe, landonorris, and 122 others

yourprivate new year, new me 💆‍♀️

fuck🖕🏼men 🤮

January 14th, 2024

View all 14 comments

alex_albon yk damn well ur the biggest lover girl

→ yourprivate uhmm wdym? i’m not

landonorris i know something u dont 🤫

lilymhe its okay baby 😔

→ yourprivate 😔😔💖💖 ily

georgerussell63 wake up

→ yourprivate get out my private bitch 🤮

→ georgerussell63 cunt

→ yourprivate something u never serve..

danielricciardo wow this post ate 🎀

danielricciardo it would eat even more if u reactivated the main

→ yourprivate i’ll be back in like 9 months

→ landonorris HOLY SHIT ARE U PREGNANT

→ yourprivate NO??? WHAT??? WHY WOULD U THINK THAT???

→ landonorris coz u said 9 months and thats like how long it takes to give birth Idk

→ yourprivate u are so slow gn

IMESSAGE , MAX & YOU January 14th, 2024

xxx-xxx-xx

are you a rose?

cause i think you’re a catch 😉

oh my god 😂 that was such a sucky

pick up line.. who is this? 😭

xxx-xxx-xxx

your future boyfriend, hopefully

how’d u get my number though

i rlly hope you aren’t a stalker 😭

or i’m gonna contact the police

xxx-xxx-xxx

WAIT NO 😭

it’s max

i’m sorry lol

oh my god 😭

i didn’t see u as the corny pick up line type

you changed this contact to ‘max’

max

what can i say?

also sorry for freaking you out

i asked lando for your number, i hope you don’t mind

nah its fine 😭

max

are you okay though?

you deactivated, saw it all over twitter

yeah no, i’m ok

well not rlly but I don’t wanna like .. talk about it

max

that’s totally fine

but if you ever need someone to talk to

i’m always free

and i have cats so.. free therapy

thats how u get the girl !

max

charlie should have taken some notes

unsent message

haha i guess i know how to get you now ?

you’re a flirt aren’t you

max

only for you

😭😭

i’ll be back in a minute someone messaged me

max

alright

IMESSAGE , CHARLES & YOU January 14th, 2024

don’t respond

hi angel, can i come over?

i miss your kisses, cherie

can’t we get back together

no we can’t

charles stop it. i don’t want you

you’re the one who cheated on me

if you were going to miss my kisses so bad, why’d you cheat?

don’t respond

it’s a new year though, new us.

no charles

you need to get over it

i mean, i did

don’t respond

get over it? you deactivated on everything

that isn’t getting over it. you’re avoiding your problems

yeah I’m avoiding you, you’re my biggest one

get a new girlfriend

it obviously isn’t that hard for you..

Delivered

INSTAGRAM

yourprivate

Liked by landonorris, alex_albon, lilymhe, and 102 others

yourprivate men suck….. (i think he’s cute)

January 17th, 2024

View all comments

lilymhe u better not be talking about ch*rles

→ yourprivate no

landonorris is it ***

→ yourprivate 🤔🤔🤔???

alex_albon i thought u weren’t a lover girl

→ yourprivate i’m not

→ alex_albon caption says otherwise

georgerussell63 yw for the cake

→ yourprivate thanks georgie 😊

INSTAGRAM

charles_leclerc

Liked by carlossainz55, pierrepasly, arthur_leclerc, and 1,309,192 others

charles_leclerc overrated

January 23rd, 2024

View all 1,099 comments

user ohh ik yn is laughing at his silly ass

user he’s going dark 🖤⛓️

user he wanna be aesthetic so fuckin bad

user this is not it ‼️ archive this post ‼️

user yeah, ur overrated

→ user we luv a self aware king

user not everyone dragging him in the comments 😭

→ user cause we all love yn 💆‍♀️

lewishamilton be so fr you have no sense of fashion, m8 😂

carlossainz55 🖤

landonorris yeah this post is not ittttt

alex_albon alright mate….

danielricciardo who did not cheer! 😂😭

pierregasly 🔥

TWITTER

IMESSAGE, MAX & YOU February 14th, 2024

max <3

hey :)

happy valentines 🤍

hii maxie

happy valentines! 💌

max <3

i bought you a little something

since you love snoopy

and me 😉

you got one thing right

max <3

wowww

nevermind then

kidding 🙄🙄

max <3

i’m picking you up

is an hour enough time

yess

see you sooon 😊🤍

max <3

🤍

IMESSAGE, “YN FANCLUB 😊” February 15th, 2024

landoooo

how much r we betting that he did it

alexito

£100 he didn’t

lil 🎀

£100 he did

landoooo

i’m team he did it

georgie

he aint do shit 😂🔥

i’m team he didn’t do it

lil 🎀

is alex holding u gunpoint ???

landoooo

facts

max isn’t a pussy he def said something at least

hi guyyyyssss

what are you guys talking about

georgie

we’re betting on ur little bf

did he ask you out

lil 🎀

ok wow 😭 straight to the point

he did 😊😊😊

lil 🎀

HOLY SHIT

HAHAHAA

ALEX, GEORGE,

landoooo

PAYYY UPPP!!!! 💰

alexito

GTFOOO

georgie

🔥🔥 my ass is not paying

u better pay them

also £100 is crazy???

look at what he got me 🥹 and he’s such a cutie

lil 🎀

SNOOPY 😭 I WISSHH

so down bad

🥹🥹 the cutest

i cried 😔 he’s adorable

alexito

u guys are so cute

i hope it lasts!!

landoooo

daniel asked if u bringing back the main

cause like ur happy now

2025 my year

plus u guys are in my priv why does it matter

georgie

right lmfao 😭

congrats on the bf though 🥳

hopefully he doesn’t turn out like our

good ol’ friend charlie!!!!

alexito

mate sthu

respectfully

georgie

wow that makes it a whole lot better, thanks m8

lil 🎀

how about u both sthu

INSTAGRAM

maxverstappen1

Liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, redbullracing, and 1,220,218 others

maxverstappen1 and here’s to my baby :)

June 3rd, 2024

View all 1,101 comments

user didn’t expect a soft launch from max fuckin verstappen 😨

user HELLO???

user this girl has style.. dressing him up? 😍😍

→ user I noticed the style change, didn’t expect all this tho

user i just know shes hot

user stop soft launching i need to know who it is

danielricciardo lucky man

→ maxverstappen1 i am very lucky

landonorris cutie

→ maxverstappen1 😘

→ alex_albon it’s official: lando is the one getting soft launched

→ landonorris shhh people aren’t supposed to know

lilymhe she’s the loml

georgerussell63 🤮🤮🤮

→ maxverstappen1 get out - the girl

→ georgerussell63 🤓🤓☝️☝️

IMESSAGE, MAX & YOU June 13th, 2024

max <3

the sunset is in two hours

i’m picking you up

and we’re going to the beach to watch it

😭😭 okay max

max

see you soon :))

yeah, i love you 🤍

max <3

say that again in person

not over text 🙄

okay max 😭😭

max <3

i love you though

INSTAGRAM

maxverstappen1

Liked by lilymhe, landonorris, redbullracing, charles_leclerc, and 103,021 others

maxverstappen1 starry eyes sparking up my darkest nights.

June 13th, 2024

View all 1,001 comments

user AAUGGHH IM GOING CRAZY

user why are the captions so romantic… secret artist ? 😨

→ user lol she’s probably writing them for him

user charles gtfo 😭😭

user i love them (idk who she is)

landonorris 4 months tmr cutie 😍

→ maxverstappen1 i love you baby 🥰

→ user 4???? WHAATTT

alex_albon tell her to stop talkin abt u bro 🤦

→ maxverstappen1 no can do buckaroo

redbullracing our driver sure has some pretty good captions

lilymhe my gf 💖💖

IMESSAGE, CHARLES & YOU August 5th, 2024

don’t respond

you aren’t smart

huh

don’t respond

you’re dating max?

is this just some petty thing ? cause i don’t like him?

uhm no lmfao 😭

yeah i’m dating him though

don’t respond

is he better than me?

yeah lol

100%

don’t respond

you know, he isn’t really the type to commit

noted ? pretty sure he would’ve left by now

if that were the case lol

don’t respond

ok.

lmfao.

You have blocked this person

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

🎶 let the light in : lana del rey (feat. father john misty)

Liked by landonorris, redbullracing, alex_albon, and 2,871,292 others

yourusername 🎀

October 1st, 2024

View all 3,202 comments

user OH MY GOD

user the man..

user i fell to my knees

user who is that

user my girl came back better than ever

user FINALLY ????

user she came back and started to soft launch a man gn

lilymhe wowwww 😍😍 i missed ur main acc posts

danielricciardo SERVED CUNT 💋

→ yourusername mwa 😚

danielricciardo i prayed for times like these

maxverstappen1 last slide kinda kinky

→ yourusername u wish, never horny on the main

→ user LMFAOO

landonorris ooooo let the light innnn

georgerussell63 odd post for ur first one back

→ yourusername sthu

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

Liked by redbullracing, maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, and 1,200 others

yourusername redbull is my fav btw

October 8th, 2024

View all 2,292 comments

user her smile ☹️🤍

user THAT DRINK IS SO YUM

user my aesthetic queen 🐳

user mystery man u are lucky

user she’s so captivating

user UGHHH 😔😔☹️☹️

charles_leclerc drink company’s don’t suit u

→ maxverstappen1 lol

→ user LMFAOO

→ user embarrassing urself...

redbullracing 💙💙💙

→ yourusername 🩵

landonorris papaya better actually ☝️🤓

→ yourusername errmm 🤓

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

Liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, landonorris, lilymhe, and 3,110,210 others

yourusername i want to wear his initial on a chain ‘round my neck.

October 10th, 2024

View all 1,209 comments

user m.. suspicious

user is that not max’s new cat

user shes so cutesy

user IS THE CAPTION A LYRIC HELLOOO

user white men always win her over

landonorris mmmmmmmmmm 3️⃣🏆

→ yourusername sthu😭😭😭

→ user bro tryna give us easter eggs

lilymhe that bagel looks rlly fucking good

→ yourusername IT WAASSS

danielricciardo my bf guys

→ yourusername 😍 -m

redbullracing 🐐🐐🐐

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

Liked by maxverstappen1, lilymhe, landonorris, redbullracing and 3,101,119 others

yourusername new ep soon. 6 songs. ‘solo, tiwwchnt, ciwyw, dbm, sdg, and getaway car.” i hope u enjoy it.. out the 12th ! <3

November, 4th 2024

View all 5,110 comments

user i’m in a getaway car too queen

user “and here’s to my real friends” 2019 rookies & lily 🥲

→ yourusername my babies 4eva

user DONT BLAAAMEEE MEEE, LOVE MADE ME CRAZY 😩

user who cried and screamed listening to this album

user i brought a 🔪 to a 🔫 fight

user AHHHHHHHH

user thank u for yn’s not so mystery man but thank u for this ep ☝️☝️

landonorris used to being the GOAT

→ yourusername 🐐

danielricciardo getaway car on LOOP 🔂

maxverstappen1 but would u run away with me ?

→ yourusername yes!

→ user WHAATT

→ user this confirms everything basically

lilymhe so proud of u wifey 🤍🤍

→ yourusername mwaaa 💋

georgerussell63 i support this

→ yourusername thanks pretty princess

→ georgerussell63 nevermind

alex_albon lily and i will be listening on repeat

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

maxverstappen1

Liked by yourusername, landonorris, lilymhe, and 3,440,292 others

maxverstappen1 you said you love me, i say something back.

November 14th

View all 3,101 comments

user THE CHARLES SHADDEEE

user oh my hod. i adore them.

user ugh they’re the most bf gf couple ever

user charles could never LOOL

user these pictures im on the floor

user they’re my endgame

lilymhe she’s so cute in these pics

→ maxverstappen1 she’s always cute

danielricciardo FAVS

landonorris when they solo >

→ maxverstappen1 you’re the reason why i’m with her, thank you 😄

→ landonorris of course mate

christianhorner congratulations! happy for the both of you 🍾

georgerussell63 this is so goat coded

→ maxverstappen1 wow thanks

yourusername happy 9 months baby 💋

→ maxverstappen1 ik houd van je 🤍

→ user NINE. MONTHS.

→ user STOP NINEE…😭😭😭

yourusername wow we’re so adorable

arthur_leclerc thank you for making yn happier than my brother ever did 🙏🏼

→ maxverstappen ofc m8

→ user LMFAO EVEN HE’S TIRED OF CHARLES

౨ৎ finally… i posted… so SO so sorry for not posting in awhile, this took so long to post but 😭😭 here u gooo…. also thank u guys so much for 400 !!! i love u all <333 💋

taglist: @landovilla @moneygramhaas @ch3rryknots @amoosarte @1655clean @dark-night-sky-99 @kortneej81 @he6rtshaker ౨ৎ

2K notes · View notes

fairyhaos · 5 months

Text

❖ take care of me anyway // yoon jeonghan

jeonghan x gn!reader, 1.7k+ words

tags: office worker!jeonghan not rlly relevant to the plot tho, sick fic, fluff, established relationship

warnings: brief fever-induced hallucinations ig?? but theyre rlly cute, pet names, reader has a cold

notes: im sick. like, 'i have a cold' sick. and i also have another sick fic planned so uhh yeah im a little Unwell in the head too

There are ten minutes left of Jeonghan’s lunch break when you finally call him.

“Hello, my darling,” he says, his tone both parts dry and amused. “How are you?”

“Sick,” you reply, and even just that word sounds horribly bunged up. “But you knew that already, didn’t you? You called in sick for me.”

Jeonghan just hums, smiling a little as he adjusts the phone against his ear, walking down the street back to his company building. “Maybe I did.”

You don’t say anything for a moment, and he can almost hear you pouting on the other end of the line. There’s a rustling sound as you adjust yourself in bed, and he sighs.

“How sick are you?”

“Very,” you say, miserably, and then give a series of harsh, wet coughs that has him wincing. “Very sick. I only just woke up, but my head is just…” You don’t finish your sentence. Just make a very pained sound like a wounded puppy.

Jeonghan chuckles. “Gee, I wonder how you managed to get so sick. It’s not like walking home in the pouring rain without a coat makes you ill, isn’t it?”

You whine at that, upset. “Han, I told you, I was gonna call you but my phone was dead. I had no choice! Wanted to get home fast to see you,” you add in a mumble, sounding dejected.

He smiles at that. “It wasn’t like I was going anywhere, though,” he points out. “I was all comfortably squished on the couch. I wasn’t gonna disappear any time soon. You could’ve taken your time. Waited for the rain to pass.”

“Yeah, but still,” you huff petulantly, then sniff. “Can you make soup when you get back home?” you ask after a beat, and sniffle again. “And also buy some tissues? And meds? And give me cuddles?”

Jeonghan chuckles at how pitiful you sound, resisting the urge to coo. “No.”

“What?” You’re whining again, and you sound all bunged up but Jeonghan just smiles, amused. “But your darling Y/N is currently suffering the worst cold in the entire world.”

“But alas, I think my darling Y/N is the sole person to blame for this cold,” Jeonghan says, lips twitching upwards. “Don't you think so?”

“Come take care of me anyway.”

“No.”

You make a noise of discontent, sheets rustling as you shift around in bed again. “Hmph. Worst boyfriend ever. I’m breaking up with you.”

That makes him laugh, the stunned sound being pulled out of him by your deadpan tone, and he grins to himself out on the street, rounding the corner until his company building is in sight. “Whatever you say,” he singsongs. “I’ll see later, okay?”

“Whatever. Bye.” A pause. “Have a nice day.”

Jeonghan smiles as you hang up, looking fondly down at your contact name. He’s standing in front of the company entrance, now, and he has three minutes of his break left. Just enough time to get into the elevator and up to his office.

He pockets his phone, turns on his heel and traipses off to find the nearest pharmacy.

───────────── 🧂

You’ve been drifting in and out of sleep the entire day, constantly stuck in that drowsy, so-sick-that-nothing-feels-real state, and you’ve hallucinated Jeonghan coming home a total of thirteen times in the past five hours.

At least, you think it’s been five hours.

Maybe it’s been less than that.

Whatever. Time is weird.

The point is, your mind is all fuzzy and everything feels like it’s floating, so when someone who looks an awful lot like Jeonghan comes into the room, you just groan. Hallucination Jeonghan #14 has come to pay you a visit, it seems, so you just frown and give him the response that you’ve given all his other clones.

“Go away. Stop trying to sell me fish.”

Hallucination Jeonghan #14 makes a confused noise at that, walking closer to your bed, leaning over to adjust your pillows and pull you up into a more upright position.

“I don’t want your fish,” you say, just in case he didn’t hear you the first time. “Stop it.”

That makes the hallucination chuckle, and his hand comes up to your forehead.

Cold. Huh. None of the other hallucinations touched you before.

His hand drops from your forehead, swiping at the soft skin under your eyes gently, and his fingers are blessedly cool against your skin. You hadn’t realised how much you were burning up before.

“You’re really, really sick,” Hallucination Jeonghan #14 murmurs, and he sounds so concerned, before pulling out a bottle of water from one of the plastic bags he’s holding. Woah, you hadn’t even realised he was holding them. “Here, darling. Drink.”

You obediently take a sip once he uncaps the lid for you, before making small noises of distress when some of it spills down your shirt. Hallucination Jeonghan #14 (wow was it a mouthful to say, even in your head) just hushes you gently, dabbing at it with tissues that he’d procured from the plastic bags.

“It’s okay,” he says softly, and his hands take yours, clasping them around the bottle. Once you’re holding it, he gets up, and for a horrible moment, you think this hallucination is going to leave again. You kind of like this one.

“Where’re you going?” you ask, but it comes out as more of a slur of vowels. You’re not sure he understood a word.

“Drink up,” is all he says. He fishes out a packet of pills from the bag (it’s like a magic bag, you think blearily. It seems to have everything inside it). “Have these as well, okay? I’ll go make that soup you wanted.”

You nod, blinking. Dutifully, you sip the water that the hallucination has left you, because really this was one of the most gentle, doting, Jeonghan-like Hallucination Jeonghan and it kind of feels like he really does have your best interests at heart.

Unlike the other Hallucination Jeonghans, who just wanted to sell you fish. This one really seemed to care about your well-being.

You blink again, slowly.

Oh.

By the time Jeonghan comes back with a gently steaming bowl of chicken soup on a tray with a mug of tea, you're more lucid than before, pouting at him as he comes closer, having remembered his last words before you’d hung up the phone.

“You said you weren’t going to take care of me.”

Jeonghan doesn’t say anything, setting the tray on the bedside table, before sitting down on the edge of your bed, wordlessly picking up the bowl and spoonfeeding you some soup. You open your mouth easily, and he hums in approval with a smile.

“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let my darling be sick all alone, hm?” he says. “I can’t do that. Especially if you’re also seeing hallucinations of me who are trying to sell you fish.”

He continues feeding you soup in tiny sips, and the entire situation feels weirdly vulnerable, with you propped up on pillows and Jeonghan making small noises of approval every time you successfully swallow a spoonful. Like you’re a little baby bird, or something.

But he smiles so lovingly at you the entire time, so it’s kind of hard to feel too embarrassed.

“Well done,” Jeonghan murmurs, once you’ve finished half of the bowl. Your boyfriend is affectionate, almost overbearingly so at times, always poking you in the side or pinching your cheeks or tweaking your nose, but the softness with which he treats you right now is a whole other level of affection entirely.

Jeonghan cares deeply for you. You know that. You’ve never doubted how much he loves you, and he never gives you reason to doubt it. But still, when he smooths down your hair and strokes the back of your hand and gazes at you so gently, it makes you realise yet again that oh God, he loves you.

“We’re going to get you to finish the rest of the soup in a minute,” he says, reaching down towards the plastic bag at his feet, “but first. I wanted you to have this.”

Out of the bag, he pulls out…

A fluffy bunny plushie.

You blink, tilting your head, sniffing in confusion and also to try and unblock your bunged up nose. “What?”

“Say hi to Jjongie,” Jeonghan says. “He came up to me when I was buying your soup, and I couldn’t not bring him home.” The bunny’s pink ears flop adorably into its eyes as he holds out the soft toy to you. It even has a cream coloured ribbon around its neck. “He’s gonna keep you company whenever I can’t be here for you.”

“Oh,” you say softly, taking Jjongie from him with a smile. You rub your thumb over the soft fur of the bunny’s cheek. “He’s adorable.”

Jeonghan beams, proud. “Of course he is. He’s a me-substitute.”

You look up at him, smiling. “Han, I—” You can’t finish your sentence, too choked up. Literally. You suddenly start coughing, hand coming up to cover your mouth, and Jeonghan rushes forward with the mug of tea and an opened box of tissues that he suddenly procured out of nowhere.

“Hey, it’s okay, no need to cry over it,” he says teasingly as you glare at him, eyes tearing up from how hard you’re coughing. You accept the tissues and, when he pushes the tea insistently in you direction, you take the mug too.

“Yeah, yeah.” You blow your nose with one hand and then drink the tea, noting with a smile the subtle notes of honey in it. “Thank you,” you add, softly, looking down at Jjongie in your lap. Jeonghan really has gone out of his way for you.

Jeonghan just shakes his head, picking up the soup bowl again. “Thank me once you get better,” he says. “You can take care of me after. I’ll probably be catching your illness from looking after you.”

You grin, blowing your nose again, and even you can’t miss the way that Jeonghan watches you, eyes devastatingly fond.

“Yeah, but you’re gonna look after me anyways, aren’t you?”

Jeonghan grins, unashamedly bright. He taps the spoon against your lips, smiling wider when you sip the soup, the mug of tea in your hands, Jjongie the bunny in your lap.

“Duh. I love you too much not to.”

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @thedensworld @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @evasaysstuff @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @butiluvu @sakufilms @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @amxlia-stars @raevyng @isabellah29

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mattitties · 4 months

Text

Boyfriend, pt 2 - matt sturniolo

you guys asked, so i delivered (hopefully)

part 1 here

I left the party last night feeling on top of the world. I recounted everything to my best friend the second Matt had left and she came back to me.

“I came back from the bathroom and saw you guys totally hitting it off, so I just stood back and watched. I thought he was about to bend you over the bar and fuck you right there,” she told me.

It’s now the next morning and I’m trying to distract myself and not think about the fact that he hasn’t texted me yet. It’s only 10 AM, so I really shouldn’t be worried, but as someone who doesn’t talk to boys literally ever, I am naturally very worried.

As the hours pass and it’s now 2 PM, I go into my roommate’s room. “Why hasn’t he texted me? Do you think he was just fucking with me? What if I didn’t give him the right number and he’s now texting some other hotter bitch instead of me? What if I was-” I start to ramble before she cuts me off.

“Oh my god, shut up! It’s been like 14 hours, chill out! He’s gonna text you, and if he doesn’t, he doesn’t. We don’t know anything about him, he could be sleeping still or he could be having a busy day. Take a Xanax or something, good gracious,” she tells me, finishing just as my phone vibrates.

I check it absentmindedly, fully expecting it to be my mom or a spam text, but instead I see an unknown number.

Hey it’s Matt, just wanted to see when your free to hang out?

I let out a shriek and show my roommate my screen.

“Fucking told you!” she says excitedly before her face changes. “Oh boy, he’s one of the fuckers who doesn’t know the difference between your and you’re. You gotta fix that.”

“Oh for sure,” I say, starting to type in my phone.

hey :) i’m free tonight or tmr if either of those work

Tonight is good, I can pick you up around 6 and we can get dinner. How does Boa sound?

“Oh my god. He wants to take me to Boa,” I tell my roommate. I’m just about on the verge of vomiting everywhere.

“Oh fuck yeah! Mr. Moneybags over here!” she cheers.

that sounds great!

Sick, whats your addy so I know where to pick up my gf ;)

I give him my address, turn off my phone, and immediately go to my room to take an everything shower and get ready.

I’m finishing up my hair at 5:30 when I get another text: Leaving now, be there in 15 min. I made reservation for 6

I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I was so confident around him last night, but now I feel like a completely different person. I’m terrified I’m gonna be an awkward mess when I get in the car and he’s gonna wonder what happened to the girl he met last night and I won’t even be able to eat I’m so nervous and–

Nope, I’m not worrying anymore. It’s gonna be fine. I triple check everything to make sure I look good, and finally he texts that he’s here.

I grab my bag, go downstairs, and open the front door to our apartment complex, where I’m met with a very familiar face standing next to it. He’s wearing a black short sleeve collared shirt, blue jeans, and a black baseball cap he put on backwards. Man, he looks good as fuck.

He looks up when he sees me and smiles. “Hi,” he says. “Car’s right there. I was going to come in but then I saw I had to be buzzed into the building and I didn’t know which apartment was yours, so…” It seems that his confidence from last night has lessened quite a bit as well, as now he’s just awkwardly rambling. I find it adorable.

I shake my head and smile. “You’re fine, this is perfect.” I follow his lead to his car, and am surprised when he opens the passenger door for me. “Thank you,” I say as I get in, and he shoots me another quick smile before closing the door and going to the driver’s side.

“So Boa, huh? You really are trying to show off your YouTube bucks,” I joke.

“Me and my brothers go there a lot, it’s not really that expensive,” he says.

“Speak for yourself! I was looking at the menu and almost had an aneurysm at the prices!”

He laughs and glances at me. “Well lucky for you, you’re not the one paying, are you?”

We continue our banter for a few minutes before there’s a lull in the conversation. “Do you wanna put some music on? Here’s the aux cord,” he tells me, pulling out a cord.

“Oh,” I say, immediately regretting all my life choices. I am historically NEVER on aux in any situation because my music taste is comprised of Taylor Swift, dad rock, and depressing music. “Um… you may not like my music. We can just play whatever you like.”

He looks at me wearing a tiny frown. “What! You’re the passenger, you get aux. Whatever you play will be fine.”

I sigh dramatically as I plug my phone in and queue Taylor. “Okay, but if you don’t like it, just remember I gave you a chance to say no.” He nods. I watch his face to gauge his reaction as “The Story of Us” starts to play, and I roll my lips into my mouth to hide my laughter when he recognizes the voice.

“Yayyyy,” he says sarcastically. “I love Taylor Swift…”

The rest of the drive consists of me explaining to him that if he was willing to give her music a try, he would definitely enjoy her music. I was fully expecting him to laugh it off and come back with some smart ass comment about her as nearly every other man does, but he seemed genuinely interested in what I was saying. “You’re right,” he told me. “Maybe we can listen together and you can show me more of her stuff!”

I think I fell in love right there.

When we arrive at Boa, the man nearly eats shit rushing around to open the passenger door for me, and walks slightly ahead of me to get the door for the restaurant. Neither of us have any ounce of the same flirty energy we had last night, but there’s no awkwardness at all. I still can’t believe this is happening. The hottest guy I’ve ever seen, he’s a perfect gentleman, we have so much in common, and he’s actually into me? It seems far too good to be true.

“So,” I say when we get seated, “what exactly made you feel the need to come up to me last night? Did I really look that uncomfortable?”

“Oh, you looked like you were about ready to sink into the floor. I mean, in all honesty, I was kind of eyeing you all night but I didn’t have the courage to come up to you, so I guess I sort of used that as an excuse to do something. Plus saving you from creepy guy and all,” he replies.

“Well, thank you, no matter what your reasoning was.” I look around the restaurant. I feel so out of place, it’s disgusting. I’ve only lived in LA for a couple months, so I still feel like I don’t belong, especially when I end up in the same restaurants that people get papped outside of. But somehow, even in a place like this, I feel oddly safe and at peace with a man that I met not even 24 hours prior.

I’ve never been much of a great conversationalist; if I’m in a one on one conversation, the other person needs to be a rambler for it to not be awkward. But he’s not a rambler, and we both are just so invested in what the other person is saying that it’s somehow a never ending conversation. We have so much in common – our love for movies, Legos, journaling, us both attempting to get back into reading after going so long without it – I feel like I’ve known him my whole life. It’s so refreshing, and it’s terrifying. I know I’m going to fall for him fast. I may be already, but I can’t be. We just met.

He pulls me out of my trance by repeating his question. “You ready to go?”

“What? Oh, yeah, sorry. Um, thanks for paying,” I smile as I get up.

“Of course! What kind of a man would I be if I didn’t pay on our first date?” he jokes.

“Ohhh, our first date? Does that imply there’ll be a second?” I ask as I get in the car.

“Would you like there to be a second?”

“I mean I guess…” I smirk at him. We’re both looking at each other, smiling ever so slightly. I want nothing more than to kiss him right now, and I’m 99% sure he wants the same based on the way his eyes are shifting focus from my eyes to my lips. I’m about to lean in when –

“I should get you home.”

Oh. I nod. “Yeah… yeah, probably.” I sit back in my seat.

He turns on the car and Taylor Swift blasts through the speakers. “JESUS–” he yells, turning the volume down as we both start laughing. “I know I said you could show me her stuff but let’s take it down a notch, god damn!”

We don’t talk at all during the drive home, but it’s nice. Just the music in the background, and subtle glances between us every so often. When we pull up in front of my apartment complex, he parks the car and turns it off, then starts to get out.

“You don’t need to get out, it’s okay,” I tell him.

“Well I have to make sure you get into your apartment safe, don’t I?” Again, what a gentleman. I didn’t even think people like him existed anymore. I smile to myself and lead the way, taking him up to the 4th floor and down the hall to my door. “I guess this is where I leave you?” he asks.

“Unfortunately, this is where you leave me.” I’m looking up at him, he’s looking down at me. I can tell he wants to say something, and I hope it’s what I think it is.

He opens his mouth, takes a sharp inhale. “Can I kiss you?”

Bingo. I smile and nod, holding his jaw lightly in my hand. He takes my waist with one hand and the back of my head with the other, and our lips collide softly in a matter of seconds. I haven’t kissed many guys, but they’ve always felt just a little off and I never knew why. But this? This feels right. It’s gentle, but our tongues slip into each other's mouths as the kiss grows deeper. I know I need to stop this here, as much as I don’t want to. I give in for a few more seconds before I pull back.

“I, um… I need to go inside,” I tell him, completely unable to wipe the smile off my face.

“Okay,” he says, pushing a piece of hair behind my ear. “I’ll text you, because yes, there definitely will be a second date.”

“Good.” I kiss him one last time before I unlock my door. “Goodnight, Matt.”

“Goodnight.”

———————————————————————

i probably won’t do a part 3 because idk how to keep it interesting from here but if you have other fic requests lmk and i’ll do my best 😚

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo

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wynnyfryd · 6 months

Text

Trailer park Steve AU part 14

part 1 | part 13 | ao3

fuckin' finally some FLUFF

Dinner is awkward.

It’s awkward, Steve thinks as he spears a Brussels sprout with more force than strictly necessary, because Dustin promised that it was just going to be the three of them tonight, and now he’s sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with his leather-clad metalhead neighbor.

It went like this: Steve showed up at the Henderson’s front door with a pie plate and a two-liter of Grapico under his arm, looking like a dork on picture day in his best jeans and a nice polo with his hair actually combed for once, and he lifted his hand to knock only to be greeted by Eddie throwing the door open and hollering, “Be right back, Henderson! Gotta grab— oh, shit.”

And then, more eloquently, “Uh…”

Uh. Like Steve was the one unexpectedly crashing the party.

Steve stabs another sprout.

They’ve been bumbling through stilted small talk about work and school and weekend plans for what feels like a painfully long time, and Eddie has his elbows on the table — didn’t even bother to take his jacket off because he was apparently raised in a barn — and it’s basically dinner with Barb’s parents all over again.

This is finger-lickin’ good.

God. Get him out of here.

“Okay,” Dustin cuts through the stalled-out silence in the room. He jabs an accusatory fork into the air, pointing between the two of them and narrowing his eyes. “You two are being weird.”

Eddie startles dumbly, and Steve just says, “Hmm?”

“You.” He aims the fork at Steve. “Are being.” It moves to Eddie; back to Steve. “Weird. What’s going on? I thought you two were getting along now.”

Steve dabs his mouth with his napkin. Wow. Okay. So they’re doing this now.

Eddie either doesn’t get the memo or just decides to rip it up, because instead of being honest he throws on a theatrical smile and flings an arm around Steve’s shoulders, proclaiming, “Of course we are! C’monnn. Me and this guy?” He reaches up to give Steve a gentle noogie. Steve wonders if you can get a more lenient sentence if the guy you murdered really, really deserved it. “Thick as thieves.”

Claudia smiles fondly.

Dustin’s not buying it. “You’re so full of shit, you know that?”

“Dusty!” Claudia gasps. She gives him a stern look as she tops off her wine glass, then leans over to do the same for Steve and Eddie’s glasses, too. “Stevie, honey, don’t listen to him,” she soothes. “I think it’s sweet. It’s good to see you with some boyfriends your own age.”

Dustin chokes at her word choice, and Steve blushes to his ears.

Eddie’s arm tightens around his shoulders. “Yeah, Stevie,” he smirks, leaning in a little closer. “We’re great boyfriends, aren’t we?”

“Oh, yeah,” Dustin joins in, “best boyfriends I’ve ever seen.”

Surely murder’s just murder, right? Like, from a sentencing perspective? Does it matter how many people you off, or do you just get thirty-to-life regardless?

“Steve, tell mom more about your boyfriend.”

Steve chugs his glass of wine.

—

The conversation turns to less embarrassing topics after that, the words flowing more easily now that everyone’s warmed up with wine and making fun of Steve. Claudia asks what everyone’s doing for Halloween, and Dustin tells her that Eddie and Steve are taking the boys trick-or-treating in the neighborhood with the good candy bars (which was news to Steve, goddammit), and that leads to a discussion of costume plans.

Dustin and Mike are going as a pair again, Marty and Doc from Back to the Future. Lucas is doing his own thing, but he's "totally delusional if he thinks a costume is gonna win Max back." Steve doesn’t really have a costume this year, so he’ll probably just pull some sweats out of the closet, throw a whistle around his neck and go as a basketball coach, and Eddie, surprisingly, has the lowest effort costume of them all.

“Oh, I’m going as a vampire,” he says when Claudia asks. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out some cheap plastic teeth and pops them into his mouth. “Ta-daaa.”

Steve wrinkles his nose. “You just carry those around?”

“Isn’t it awesome?” Dustin asks.

“Not really, no. It’s not.”

“But S’theeeve,” Eddie lisps around the fangs. The wine’s made him weirder, playful and too-friendly and berry pink in the cheeks. He holds his sleeve in front of his face like a vampire hiding behind a cape and drawls, “I vant to s’thuck your bloood.”

Steve vants to jump out the window. “I’m gonna go serve the pie.”

—

part 15

tags below the cut, comment if you want me to tag you tomorrow 🩷

@acedorerryn @ahsokatanoss @annabanannabeth @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awolfstudio @bananahoneycomb @bronwenmarie @burymestanding @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @cr0w-culture @cuips-not-cute @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @evillittleguy @fandomfix8 @foolofentirelytoomanyfandoms @goodolefashionedloverboi @gregre369 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @heartsong18 @hellion-child @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @jaytriesstuff @littlebluejane @lololol-1234 @messrs-weasley @nburkhardt @noodle-shenaniganery @ppunkpuppyy @runninriot @sadcanadianwinter @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @steddieas-shegoes @stevesbipanic @steves-strapcollection @teatimeeverybody @thealwithnoname @thestarslittleking @thesuninyaface @trensu @violetsteve

#trailer park steve au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #dustin henderson #claudia henderson #st fic #my writing #my fic

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sarcasticassian · 1 year

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Corroded Coffin’s label want them to do a Christmas song, Chrissy (their manager) tells them over and over that it’s not gonna fly, it’s really not the band’s brand and who is even asking for a Christmas song off them but due to the recent mainstream success of the band the label is not backing down so Chrissy tells the guys what the situation is thinking she’s going to have to deal with an unhappy label and unhappy talent, she immediately lets them know that she’ll try and negotiate a cover or something that they can whip up in no time and then forget about

but they all surprise her, Eddie the most, Jeff just had a kid with his wife and he’s in good spirits, Grant is married and Gareth has a long term girlfriend so she can maybe understand their tolerance for Christmas but Eddie? Mr anti establishment and hates all things capitalistic etc etc, he LOVES Christmas apparently, he says its about the spirit, people’s giving nature etc also he loves watching people get into physical fights over presents and families tearing into each other over the holidays, it’s kinda funny as an outsider and as someone who has one other family member

so they put their heads together and even out do what she’s asking by giving her two original songs and a couple of covers, enough for an EP, the label is ecstatic and Chrissy is flabbergasted, the only hitch is that before they record properly Eddie needs a choir of kids (why, Eddie? it’s part of the Christmas spirit Chris, so many songs have them as well, why can’t ours) so to make it interesting the label makes it a competition for local school choirs and a certain Miss Buckley decides to send in a tape because why not right?

except Eddie loves them, the tape doesn’t cut off in time to miss a snarky comment from the kid at the front with the curly hair and the redhead next to him rolls her eyes so hard Eddie is pretty sure she can see the back of her head and he’s charmed, they sound good too so he begs the band to pick them and the other guys really aren’t as invested in this so they say go for it

Robin is over the moon that her choir got chosen, she’s a music teacher at a local middle school where her bestie also teaches history and is beloved by all children apparently, and it helps that the prize is tickets to a Christmas concert Corroded Coffin will be a part of for all the kids so she tells them that world famous band Corroded Coffin is coming to their school to record them for a new song and they go nuts as a bunch of 14 year olds would, Steve is happy for her even though he has no idea who these people are and doesn’t bother looking them up cause what kinda band comes to a random school for a recording of their song

Eddie LOVES the kids when he arrives, they’re delightfully bitchy but obedient enough or respect Robin enough that they listen to both her and him all day and they sound great, he enjoys them so much in fact that he asks if they’d all want to be in the music video, Steve is out sick that day much to everybody’s dismay but once the video shoot is all worked out they need another teacher for health and safety etc so he volunteers to go (not that Robin would’ve given him a choice) and he sees Eddie covered in flakes of fake snow, surrounded by this soft halo of light and is like oh dear when his heart starts pumping double time

Eddie thinks this teacher is a total cutie and all the kids seem to love him, clamouring to point out cool things on set or show him their costumes or just chat to him about their other weekend plans and Eddie is a little smitten, the shoot goes on and the song is about being lonely at Christmas, the other guys’ partners are involved and the original idea was for Eddie to remain alone to really drive in the point (who doesn’t love a sad Christmas song, of course Eddie would write something against the grain) but the label has a sudden change of heart and wants the video to end with Eddie finding someone and Chrissy seizes her chance to play matchmaker so she suggests Steve fills in if he wants before Eddie can protest

Steve is a slightly confused about why they’d pick him until Eddie blurts out that he’s gay and out etc so a guy would make more sense to their fans so Steve, caught up in the moment, says sure why not, and half falls in love with Eddie under the fake snowfall and horribly bright set lights, he knows it’s an act but Eddie is very charming (Eddie isn’t acting) and all their actual audio will be cut because of the song playing over the top so Steve just enjoys himself

when the song and video goes live fans lose it, who is this cute, cute man that Eddie has bagged, it must be his boyfriend right because everybody else’s partner is in the video and Eddie has to quickly clarify that he just met Steve that day but nobody believes him, ‘the chemistry is too good’ so Eddie manages to reach out to Steve and apologise and Steve decides to joke that Eddie should take him for a drink to make up for it but Eddie immediately agrees and that’s how Steve finds himself on a date with a rockstar

(his class go wild after Christmas break and they hear from Miss Buckley about Mr Harrington’s new boyfriend)

(they go wilder when Steve spills in return that Robin has been seeing Chrissy-the-band-manager since the recording at the school back in October)

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #buckingham #robin/chrissy #robin x chrissy #steveddie #bandqueen #bandcheer #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things fic

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harrywavycurly · 11 months

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Summary: You’ve been married to Steve Harrington for over two years and things couldn’t be better, you even someon how managed to convince your childhood bestfriend Eddie Munson and his wife Chrissy to move in next door. You feel like you’re living the dream but slowly you start to notice it’s actually more of a nightmare when Steve begins acting weird, but at least you still have Eddie. But unknown to you Eddie is also beginning to feel like life is too good to be true when his wife starts coming up with excuses to not be home, but at least he has you his bestfriend right next door. This is a series all about how you never really know what’s happening behind closed doors and that love sometimes sneaks up on you when you least expect it.

Type of Story: This is a double feature cheater fic aka Steve and Chrissy both cheat on you and Eddie BUT it has a happy ending.

A/N: I know cheating fics aren’t everyone’s thing and that’s totally fine I understand this can be hard for some people to read so do what’s best for you✨

TW: Cheating, cursing, gaslighting and mentions of divorce

Status: Completed🖤

Tag List: Open

Instagrams: Here

Conversations: Here

Extras: here

*This is a texting series but you’ll find everything in the correct order below*

Part 1: Game Night

Part 2: Gossip

Part 3: Normal

Part 4: Smokes

Part 5: Cuddles

Part 6: Roses

Part 7: Note

Part 8: Exhale

Part 9: Employee of the Month

Part 10: Backyard bonus convo here

Part 11: Relieved bonus convo here

Part 12: Four Days

Part 13: Oil Change

Part 14: Not the First Time bonus convo here

Part 15: Porch

Part 15 part 2: Porch Convo bonus convo here

Part 16: Smooth Sailing bonus convo here convo with Steve and Chrissy here

Part 17: Police Escort

Part 18: Downstairs

Part 19: Open Spaces bonus convo between Eddie and Wayne here

Part 20: Five? bonus convo here

Part 21: Practice Date bonus convo here

Part 22: Sixteen

Part 23: Pizza

Part 24: Reflexes bonus convo here

Part 25: We’re Gonna Be Fine

Part 26: Change

Part 27: Late

Part 28: Trust

Part 29: Traditions

Part 30: Promises

Bonus Content:

That Felt Good

Permission

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auteurdelabre · 6 months

Text

SOMETHING TO FIGHT FOR (SERIES) PART 14

Word Count: 11.6

Pairing: Dad!Joel Miller x f!reader (no use of y/n, no physical descriptions)

Warnings: SMUT AHEAD. SMUT AHEAD. PLEASE BE 18+ READING THIS. Wanna read the rest? Pinned post on my account has my masterlist!

============

Joel and Tess are in his bedroom, but nothing scintillating is about to occur. If anything the mood is sober. Sarah has been asleep for hours, Daniel is at his dads and Tess is sitting at the edge of his bed watching Joel put away his laundry, wondering why he asked her over if he isn’t going to touch her.

Joel can feel Tess' eyes on the back on his head as he pushes the shirts in the drawer aside. He's convinced he's missing one. But he knows that this is a distraction because he’s nervous, panicking about how to start this conversation. Tess watches him dig around in his drawer for several more minutes before snapping.

“Joel what’s going on? Why am I here?”

Joel’s shoulders meet his ears for a second before he turns, looking at Tess with a look that is all too familiar. A look her husband wore when he told her he wanted to end their eight year marriage. The look men wear when they are about to break her heart.

"I thinkin' we should ease up a bit, Tess," Joel finally says his voice a low rumble. She immediately stills.

“I don't understand," Tess says, her face showing her growing panic. She stands, moving towards him. "Did I do something?”

"No," Joel assures her, shaking his head and stepping out of her reach. "Nothing like that. Nothing to do with you. I just . . . I think I thought I was ready for something and I don't know that I was. And that's not fair to you."

She comes to sit next to him on the bed, her hand falling to his knee as she gazes at him.

“What are you trying to say?”

"Maybe we take a break?" Joel answers honestly. "I'm worried Sarah's gonna get confused."

"Sarah never sees me outside of play dates, Joel. Don't try to use your daughter as an excuse."

Tess' arms are crossed over her chest, her defences up. She's completely correct.

"Tess I'm sorry," Joel says, his large brown eyes reflecting the guilt he feels. "It's just too much too fast and I. . . I'm not all in."

He expects Tess to swear at him, to stalk from the room. He expects a slap, a shout that he’s a bastard. Instead she turns her eyes on him and she’s smiling at him like he’s some sweet, naïve thing.

"Joel, you’re just scared. It's totally normal to feel like that. It's a big leap and we both have kids but I think you're worth it."

Tess frowns at Joel's muted response to that. She'd expected a smile or even a gentle agreement. Instead Joel looks down at his hands.

Tess feels her stomach sour at this. She'd thought that she and Joel were in a good spot. Yeah, things had moved a bit quickly at her insistence but that's only because she could see how easily they fit together. They were well matched in disposition and looks. Both had demanding jobs they found satisfying, both had tight knit families,

So then why is he trying to spoil everything now?

"I thought we were good," Tess says tentatively.

"We were- are," Joel self corrects. "It's not that I don't enjoy your company, or that I don't like you. You’re an amazing woman, I really mean it. Its . . . I don't feel right about it, Tess and I think I need a bit of time."

Tess is worrying her lower lip between her teeth, her face thoughtful. She slides closer to Joel on the bed. He notices her thigh pressed tightly against his. She tilts forward, her chest heavy against his arm.

“Joel, whatever it is-“

“I kissed someone,” Joel confesses, his cheeks burning.

Tess feels her eyes blow wide at this. She doesn’t need to ask.

You.

Of course it was you. The niggle in the back of her head. The voice that always told her you were too close to the family she wants for herself. She doesn’t bother asking, doesn’t want to hear the confirmation.

“Is it going to happen again?”

Joel thinks of your mouth and hears your cries of his name as you crested on his thigh. But also thinks of how you’d pushed from him and Paul’s kiss to your cheek and how happy Paul makes you and Joel shakes his head.

“No. It’s not.”

///

You haven’t spoken to Joel for four days. Four impossibly long days. Four days of replaying him guiding you to arch along his thigh, four days of recalling the warmth of his mouth, four days of waiting for Paul to leave the apartment so you can touch yourself groaning out Joel’s name until you’re hoarse.

And four days of insurmountable guilt.

I need to tell Paul.

I can’t.

Telling Paul will hurt him.

No point because it’s not going to happen again. You telling him just makes you feel better but it’ll make Paul feel worse.

Nothing else is gonna happen with Joel.

Nothing else can happen with Joel.

What else could happen with Joel?

Could it happen in his bed?

Stop it.

The phone rings and Joel’s name pops up like a demon come to life. Fuck even his name looks sexy to you right now. Joel Miller. Milllllller. The l’s trace your tongue along the edge of your top teeth suggestively.

“Hello?”

“Hey, you said you had some decorations for the party tomorrow, right?”

“Yep.”

“Mind if I pick them up? I’m in the neighborhood.”

Yes. Yes you do mind. You cannot have Joel here in your house again. You lean against the wall, suddenly breathless.

“I’m not at home,” you lie. “I’ll bring them to you-“

You catch yourself realizing; which is worse? The remembrance of Joel making you come right here against this very wall? Or going to Joel’s house with his lush bed that you’ve definitely imagined gratuitously fucking him on?

“The kids are gonna be at my place watching a movie around four if you wanna come then,” Joel adds in a low tone and you realize the implication.

You two definitely won’t be alone. It’s safe.

“Okay. Four it is.”

///

Smart woman.

Smart to tell him no and that you’d bring the decorations here to his place. Smart because Joel had already been hard, trying not to think about the ache of his cock when he’d called you from the truck.

Smart because he told Tess that it wouldn’t happen again and she’d nodded and held him and told him she understood. That he and she were both adults and that slips happened. Once. That she wanted them to work.

Tess has to work late and asked Joel to babysit. Actually, she asked Joel if you would babysit Daniel over at her place but Joel hadn’t been okay with that. It felt strange to ask you that. So instead he’d brought Daniel here.

Now it’s four pm and Joel pushes himself off the sofa at the sound of the doorbell. Daniel and Sarah sit on the floor, popcorn in his daughters lap as they stare up at the television. She’s so distracted by the movie she doesn’t even notice when you slip away. Daniel glances over only a second before his attention is back on Jiminy Cricket.

He opens the door to see you laden with bags and he immediately feels remorse.

“Here, lemme help,” Joel says, taking the bags from you, heaving them onto his shoulders with ease. He misses the way your eyes widen at the sight, your gaze going dreamy for a moment before you snap to it and carry the rest in after him.

He notices you’re wearing jeans and an extremely baggy sweatshirt that he can only assume is an oversized piece of Paul’s, zipped high on your neck. It hits Joel moments later that you’ve tried to cover your entire body up, to try and hide from him.

Don’t you get that looks are only part of it? And that you covering up just makes him want to uncover you? Unzip that hideous sweatshirt and see what’s underneath? Are you naked? No bra?

Quit it, Miller.

“Did you bring enough shit?” Joel muses, looking at the wide array of bags. You smile softly shrugging at the pile of balloons, decorations, fabric and more.

“I wasn’t sure exactly what you and Tess had decided on,” you reply breezily. “I just brought over a bunch of stuff. Whatever you don’t use I’ll grab after the party.”

Joel nods, watching as you begin to pull things from bags. Joel warns you with a hush that Sarah and Daniel are in the living room down the hall so if you keep your voice down you may just be able to escape without being pulled into watching the Little Mermaid for the millionth time after Pinocchio. You nod in agreement, sure to keep your voice quiet.

“Okay I don’t know what your plan is for before the party, but I always wanted to wake up on my birthday to a room full of balloons. Like, you walk downstairs and it’s just a sea of color you have to wade through.”

“You always wanted that? As an adult?” Joel chides.

“Obviously not as an adult,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Well. . . Maybe a little as an adult.”

Joel smirks at the laugh you try to suppress. “Did you ever get it?”

“What do you think? Why do you think I’m trying to get it for Sarah? It’s so at least one of us can experience the joy of a balloon room!”

Joel chuckles softly at this, watching how you busy yourself moving around the crowded table. He knows why you’re doing this – the more you two talk about this, the less time there is to think about him at your house coaxing you to ride his thigh to climax.

Smart woman.

Not too smart though, because the longer he doesn’t have you, the more turned on he gets. Even now as you talk he’s imagining all the things he could do with you.

“But I was thinking we could do all these different shades of purple balloons in the kitchen,” you continue excitedly. “So when she comes to have her birthday breakfast she’ll walk into this giant thing of balloons and that’ll just start the day right.”

“Birthday breakfast?” Joel is smiling widely now. His body moves towards you, instinctively drawing near, neither of you notice as he does this.

“Yeah you know,” you say with a shy smile. “The special breakfast you get on your birthday?”

“What does that entail, usually?”

“Uh. . . Pancakes with little faces in them? Strawberries cut to look like flowers? I don’t fucking know, Joel.”

“Well, in this house we go out for birthday breakfast,” Joel explains. He’s standing so close to you now, his hand almost brushing yours. “Just me and the birthday girl. Makes it special since I already make pancakes for her every fucking Sunday.”

Still smiling you give him a strangely watery look, nodding and then looking away.

///

You move to stand behind the kitchen island, dragging some of the decor over with you. You need to step away from Joel for a moment; you need to give yourself some breathing room.

It’s fucking warm in here.

You unzip the sweatshirt a fraction, needing to release some of the heat that you’re concerned has nothing to do with your choice of clothing and everything to do with Joel’s lips when they curve into a smirk.

You go back to the small frog and toad decor you got from the party store, trying to fit the cardboard pieces together so they create a cute little stand. You’re distracted by this, not even noticing Joel is across from you until you hear his low rasp.

“Is that my shirt?”

Your fingers still. Joel moves to stand next to you at the island, his dark eyes fixed on the grey fabric peeking out from underneath the sweatshirt. Your eyes blow wide, panic overtaking you as you try to even your breathing.

“W-what?”

“Is that my shirt?" Joel repeats in a murmur, his face unreadable. You feel your heart jumping, humiliation now overtaking you.

"No," you lie, putting down the craft and facing away from him. You zip your jacket up to your neck, hiding the shirt again.

Fuck, you’d forgotten you were wearing it.

Your hands go to the top of the island, placing your palms there to steady yourself as your heart throws itself against your ribcage.

You're not expecting Joel’s hand to slide under your hair, pushing it over your shoulder. You go to pull away but his warm fingers skate over your exposed neck. You shiver as his forefinger curls at the edge of the collar, pulling it down so he can see the tag.

"You shop at the Men's Wearhouse?"

"Rummage sale," you gulp. "I-it was in with a bunch of women's stuff. I guess I just assumed-"

Your hands are still on the counter, steadying yourself. You can feel the hot breath of Joel on the back of your neck before he speaks softly.

"Why are you lyin' to me?"

You crane your neck, looking at Joel over your shoulder.

How can you explain it to him? That when you wear it you feel like he's there with you? That you feel good when you carry a part of him around with you? What would he even say to that?

You would never tell him that. He's with Tess. He's made his choice. You're with Paul, you made yours. You'll always be friends. It's the only way you can have him and Sarah in your life. The only way you can survive.

But friends don't look at each other the way you and Joel are right now, do they? Friends don't get so close, practically breathing into one anothers mouths. You tilt your head away from him, needing to steady yourself.

Just focus. Deep breath and then ---

Wordlessly Joel's hands are skimming around to the front of your sweatshirt, pulling down the zipper with a sensual slowness from behind you. It releases at the bottom and he pulls the sweatshirt from your shoulders, sliding it down the crook of your arm before letting it fall to your feet.

You still face away from him, your cheeks blazing because it's so obvious by how it hangs on you that you are in fact wearing Joel’s t-shirt. The one he gave you that night when your clothes had needed to be dried. The clothing you told him you’d return and never did. The t-shirt that you wear to bed sometimes, or out under your usual clothes.

You wait for the humiliating comment. The amused observation that you're obsessed with him.

But it never comes.

Instead his head is tilted forward, his mouth skating up your neck until it reaches your ear.

"I like seein' you in my clothes," Joel murmurs there.

Your eyes shutter at the sensation of his hot breath on your earlobe. His fingers move along the base of the t-shirt, as if he intends to pull it up over your head.

You want him to.

Wait. Wait you want him to? Are you fucking insane?

You know that you’re not alone here. That you could be caught here, bracing yourself on the counter as Joel leans over you, his hands sliding up under the hem of your (his) t-shirt.

Your heart slams against your ribs so harshly you lose your balance, your knees trembling. You worry you're going to faint. You feel his hips press into your back, keeping you steady against the counter.

You should stop, you know this. But Joel is so tall and broad behind you, his lips so soft as he now kisses the side of your neck. Goosebumps break out all over as his warm hand start sliding up your stomach.

You move back as his palms come to cup your breasts, thumbs grazing your already straining nipples through the fabric of your bra. You grip the edge of the counter so tightly your knuckles are white.

"Joel we can't," you murmur, even as you arch yourself into his hands.

"I can't stop," he says almost helplessly against your neck. "I can't-“

His hands are kneading your tits and you grind back against him, your eyes shut languidly. His mouth is skimming along your jaw, teasing you.

You want to stay like this forever.

As he wanted to do that day not so long ago, he unbuttons your jeans and before you can think to stop him; his calloused palm is hurriedly sliding under the band of your panties.

His hand is warm and inviting and feels so good against your skin. He cups your sex in his wide palm before pausing as he looks at you, uncertainty passing over his features and yours.

What are we doing?!

You slip your own hand over his with the focused goal of pulling it from the confines of your under things.

"We can't do this," you say, even though there's no power behind your words.

Something changes in Joel's eyes, a feeling you can't place. Again he pauses, looking at you and inhaling with a shudder.

"We shouldn't," he breathes against your mouth.

"It's wrong," you agree gently, your lips almost brushing against his.

Joel shivers at the near contact, swallowing. You feel him pull back, his hand halfway out of your panties. You relax because you two made the mature decision to stop.

But then Joel's gripped your own hand in his and thrust it into your panties, towards your dripping core.

"What if it's your fingers?" Joel pants hot in your ear. "If it's your fingers it's not wrong, right?"

There's so little logic in that statement you could laugh. But nothing seems funny right now. Joel's his lower lip is quivering with need.

“I… I…”

His thumb has come to land on the back of your hand and he makes tiny circles there as he waits, pressing a kiss to your exposed throat before pulling back. His face is so close to yours, his eyes drinking in your features.

"Show me," he rasps against your cheek as he urges your hand down to land on the dripping slot of your sex. With shaking fingers he urges your digits gently up the soaking seam. "Make yourself come."

You hold in a whimper, terrified you'll be heard. He breathes harshly though his nose and you hold in a moan when you see him start to palm himself through his jeans with his free hand.

"Let me watch," he urges huskily.

He curls your fingers inwards, sliding over your clit. You jump a little, on high alert. He smiles, urging your fingers to splay and then encourages you to begin rubbing before he removes his hand, sliding it up over your abdomen and out of your panties.

It feels so fucking good.

Devastatingly good. And not because of how you're touching yourself or that you could be caught, but because of whom it’s for. It feels good because Joel asked you to do it and you are. It feels good because Joel Miller is hard for you, whispering how much he needs to see you come for him while you wear his clothes.

One of his hands is at vee of his jeans, the other crawling up your t-shirt to knead your breast.

You try to turn away from him, to hide the pleasure that is taking over your features but he forces your cheek back gently with his free hand. He does this until you're facing him over your shoulder the best you can.

"Need to see your face when you come for me," Joel explains in a rasp as his clothed hips circle your ass.

He didn't just say that. Joel Miller didn't just purr those words in the sexiest baritone you've ever heard. Does he know what his voice does to you?

Your fingers are working quickly over your clit now and Joel's hands are both on your hips, guiding you against him as you work hurriedly within your panties.

You can both hear how wet you are and normally that would humiliate you, but the effect it has on Joel is anything but embarrassing. His eyes are blazing, looking down the length of your body with a look of almost pained pleasure.

He groans. "Fuck, I wanna taste you again."

Jesus Christ. All he has to do is keep talking like that and you're gonna hit the edge.

Memories of that night back in December against you and a fresh wave of arousal flood you.

He presses into you tightly from behind, tilting you over the counter slightly. You can feel him throbbing through his jeans. He whispers for you to go faster, and you feel yourself bucking into your fingers as your orgasm approaches.

"I want it," you say over and over as the haze of lust takes you on. "I-i wanna..."

He's pressing a groan into the top of your head before pulling back to watch for face. He obviously enjoys the sight of your eyes fixed on his face as you bring yourself closer and closer to the precipice because his hand has begun palming himself in earnest through his jeans.

It takes everything in you not to cry out. It feels so fucking good to have him looking at you like that and holding back his own groans as you bring yourself closer and closer to orgasm.

"I need you to come," he whispers in your ear in a ragged voice. "I need it. I need you. Please, I ---"

Rapid footsteps on wood sound out, heading in your direction. You and Joel practically jump apart only seconds before Sarah busts into the kitchen with a squeak. She's carrying the big model plane you brought over last week, pretending to fly it through the air.

"Daniel wants a water, daddy."

You can see that Joel is rock hard through his jeans, blessedly shielded by the counter. Seeing it makes your breath come out in jagged little huffs. You're impossibly thankful that the shirt you're wearing covers the top of your jeans, hiding the fact that they are undone.

"No problem babygirl," Joel says clearing his throat. "I'll bring it in right away."

Sarah nods and skips back to Daniel and the still blasting television. The air in the room seems to be sucked out leaving you gasping and red -faced.

What is wrong with the two of you?

The first time could be chalked up to pent up anger coming out in a need to feel each other’s bodies. But this? There was no need for this. There was no animosity, no verbal sparring, just this ache between your selfish fucking legs.

Selfish. Just like-

"I should go,"

"Don't," Joel says seemingly before he can help himself. He moves towards you but you hold a hand up between you, stepping back.

"Joel, no. This is so... What the fuck are we doing?"

He's silent.

"I'm with Paul, you're with Tess, remember?"

"You're not happy," Joel tells you in a quiet voice, his eyes dark and intense. "I know you're not."

You're angry about the entire situation. Angry that his touch makes you do things that make you ashamed. Angry that he thinks he knows everything about you and Paul. Furious because you know that if he touches you again you won't be able to say no.

"Go give Daniel his water, Joel." Your hushed tone is cold as you pull on and zip up your sweatshirt. "Go see your daughter. She's sitting with your girlfriend’s son right now."

Joel stands there in the kitchen, looking at you with those impossibly sad, wide eyes of his. He moves towards you again, his body broad and imposing despite the sweetness in his gaze.

"Please," you beg, shaking your head. "Please don't. I can't.”

If he touches you, even to say goodbye, you won't have the strength to deny him anything.

"Fuck," Joel says shaking his head and blinking. "You're right. You're right. Go. I'm so sorry, just go.”

///

Maria brings her magazines into your suite, her eyes bright. She’s been on cloud nine for the last week, her dark eyes bright and her smile so wide you think it might crack her face in half. You absolutely relish the sight.

“Guess what?”

“What?”

“The dress is in!”

You give an excited squeal, jumping up and demanding she show you photos but she refuses, as she has done since she bought the damn thing.

“It’s a surprise,” she insists with a melodramatic twist to her voice. “You’re just gonna have to wait and see.”

“It’s good you’re here,” you say, suddenly anxious. “I wanted to talk to you about something kinda huge.”

She pauses, glancing around your suite. Something looks different. The place more sparse. It’s not until she sees the cardboard boxes stacked by the door that she understands. You’re distracted getting towels from the drier and bringing them to an empty box so you don’t see how her face hardens or how she shakes her head slowly.

“Are you packing?”

“Yeah,” you nod, smiling at her. “It’s your early wedding present. I’m moving in with Paul when the lease is up at his old place. He found a place for us in Leander.”

“Leander? That’s like forty minutes away from here.”

“I know,” you say, surprised by the sudden hostility in her tone. “But Paul has the car, so it’ll be an easy commute. No more bus for me!”

When Maria doesn’t smile back, you feel the first bubbling in your chest. Something is off. You had assumed she’d be delighted, even excited at how you were both in such committed relationships.

You haven’t told her about Joel and his beautiful fucking mouth on yours or his hands or - well, any of it. It’s a shameful secret you’ll live with. A family trait, you tell yourself in your dark moments.

"You can’t move out," Maria blurts.

You turn, surprised by the chill of her tone. You begin to load the towels into the box marked “toiletries”. As you do, you realize that maybe she’s just worried about not seeing you as much. This past year has been so wonderful, both of you being so present in one another’s lives.Your heart softens and you smile sweetly at her, reaching out to embrace her.

“You know I’ll come and visit all the time.”

“It isn’t that.”

You stop, your hands dropping to your sides.

"Maria you're getting married next weekend," you say with a laugh. "You're telling me that you and Tommy are gonna live upstairs, build a family and I should just stay living in your basement?"

"I already talked to Tommy about it and he agrees you should stay," Maria insists. "Says you're like family-"

"But I'm not family, am I?" you suddenly defend, your cheeks flushing as you say it out loud. "Not really. You and Tommy will be a family. Joel is Tommy's family, Sarah's his niece. But who am I?"

The silence that follows is as hideous as it is devastating. You've never feel so alone as when you voice your deepest insecurities.

"You're my best friend," Maria finally answers with glassy eyes. "My chosen family."

"It's not the same." You shake your head, turning from her so she can't see your tears. "You were gonna flip this house, remember? It was supposed to be an investment for you."

"I like this house," Maria says softly. Her arms are folded as if she's holding herself from crumbling. "Tommy and I fell in love in this house. We built together in this house. I'm not selling it. So there's no reason for you to go."

"Even if you aren't selling this place, I have to go." You pull the tape over the cardboard, its sound loud and cracking in the quiet room as you sniffle. "Paul is offering me a real future.”

“Oh fuck Paul!” Maria shouts, surprising you. You can see the glare in her features, the ferociousness that comes with a certain air of protectiveness. “Paul doesn’t deserve you. He never has.”

“What?”

“You know it, I know it, Tommy fucking knows it,” Maria says emphasizing Tommy’s name. “And what’s worse is you pretending like he does.”

Rage and humiliation and deep hurt slash through you like a knife to the gut.

“Paul wants to marry me, Maria. He wants to have kids and buy a house and he wants it with me!” you shout back, surprising you both. You don't think you've ever shouted at Maria before. “Why is that so wrong? Why is it so fucking wrong to want what you and Tommy have? Or what Joel has? Why don’t I get to be happy?”

“You will,” Maria promises with a sincerity she truly feels. “But not with Paul.”

You give a frustrated noise in the back of your throat, throwing the towels into the box, not even bothering to fold them.

“Even if it wasn’t Paul, I can't live in my friend’s basement forever, Maria. Do you know how pathetic that feels?"

"More pathetic than running back to some guy who left you to go play at being a rock star?"

That stings.

That actually physically hurts worse than if she’d slapped you.

"Stop it," you say softly because now the tears building. But Maria isn't stopping.

"A guy who thought ditching you after two years together just so he could live out some adolescent fantasy was fair? Who took your car?"

She's furious and hurt and you can see it all in her face. It’s like all you can make out is her face, everything else is black around the edges. You feel sick.

"A guy who came back with his tail between his legs because he couldn't make it so he-"

"Enough!" you shout. “I don’t want to hear it, Maria!”

You brush the tears from your eyes, hiccupping a cry and sinking to your knees as Maria shakes her head and leaves, slamming the door behind her.

///

Mini golf is not a sport beloved by Joel Miller.

In fact he hates it. Hates bending down until his back cracks, hates the stupid fucking attractions at each putting green, hates that annoying children that rush by urging him to hurry up so they can take their turn.

But he loves seeing Sarah so happy.

She's giggling madly her hands in the air in a tiny v of victory. Her little friend Jessie is at your other hip, looking up at you through pink glasses with just as much affection as Sarah. You came to the party, cheeks pink and unable to look at Joel but you’re here. Paul is coming late, you mention to Maria and Tommy. Good. Joel hopes he doesn’t come at all.

"Hole in one!"

“Hole in five,” you counter with a laugh. “But since it’s your birthday I think I can let it slide.”

And he loves watching you and her laughing as you tally the scores. He knows that you’re being casual, being ‘normal’ with Joel because its Sarah’s party and you refuse to make it awkward for her.

Sarah is confused that the lowest score is the winning one, citing that there must be a mistake. As they work on this Joel surreptitiously kicks his bright green ball into the plastic hole. It makes a rattling sound that draws your attention.

“Daddy got a hole in one too!” Sarah says and Jessie joins in her cheer, the two of them jumping up and down, holding hands. You however are swanning towards Joel with a very disbelieving look.

"Cheater!" You cry out, your face flushed merrily. You meet his eyes now, and he sees them twinkling.

"No proof," Joel smirks.

You and Sarah give him a dubious look before setting your own ball down on the green and taking aim. You’re shockingly good at this and Joel has to hold in a laugh when you sail by, tossing your hair over your shoulder dramatically as you get your real hole in one.

“Some people are just natural talents,” you say laughing.

Joel watches as you, Sarah and Jessie go walking over to the next par. Both the girls have taken a hand, twisting you around as you all laugh. You hair streams out behind you, back lit by the sun of the afternoon. Your laugh loudly and without care.

Fuck you're luminous.

Joel can't stop looking at you, trying to be covert. He sweeps a hand over his eyebrows, his eyes straining to keep you in his sights without being obvious. He goes towards the group, his eyes on you and not on Sarah who is swinging her club around wildly while Jessie takes her turn.

"Careful," Joel laughs when she almost clips him. "Almost got me in the head, babygirl."

"Sorry daddy," Sarah says, her eyes filled with concern which lessens when she sees the second half of your group; Tess, Daniel, Maria and Tommy heading to your course. Maria gives you a good-natured scowl.

"How are you all so damn fast?"

"Sarah, Jessie and I are just really good at mini golf," you brag airily, running your hand through Sarah's springy locks. "Joel on the other hand..."

///

The group laughs at the insinuation, but you don't miss the way Tess hangs back a bit from the group, her smile not reaching her eyes when she looks at you and Sarah.

You remember that night in the bar with Tess.

You remember the kitchen with Joel.

"Sarah why don't you help Tess with this round?" you say, giving her tiny frame a gentle nudge in Tess direction.

"Don't wanna," Sarah says, her hand going to grip yours.

You can feel the brutal sting of public rejection for Tess and your heart cracks. You go down to one knee in front of her with Joel staring at the back of your head.

"Paul is gonna be here soon and I need to visit with him," you say nudging her again. "Go on and play with Tess. I bet she'd like the help."

Sarah rolls her eyes but does as you request. She holds a hand out to Tess who takes it gratefully. She doesn’t even look at you in thanks, just murmurs to Sarah about how good Sarah is at mini golf.

It hurts.

You can’t lie and say that seeing Sarah with Tess hurts. Maria has come towards you, looking nervous.

“So where’s Paul?” Maria broaches with her eyes soft.

She knows that after the other night’s outburst you two are both on shaky ground. A friendship spanning decades and this is the worst thing you’ve said or done to one another.

It makes you both feel weird and timid around each other, despite the sisterhood you have always shared.

You don’t want to be upset though – her wedding is coming up and you want this time to be happy for your friend. You move past the irritation of the other night and accept the olive branch.

“He’s gonna be a bit late.”

Maria nods, not saying much else. You both watch Tommy try and hit his ball, his tall frame hunched over comically. When his ball sails into one of the pools of shallow aqua water and swears loud enough for Sarah to chide him, you and Maria giggling softly to one another.

///

Joel can hear you and Maria laughing up ahead. He feels his feet instinctively pulling him towards your part of the group, his chest warming at the sound of your laughter.

“Joel?”

Tess breaks Joel from his reverie. Joel pauses, glancing over to see her striding towards him.

"I have to go to the washroom. Can you watch Daniel?"

Joel’s eyes snap to Daniel who is getting ready for his turn to swing at the last hole. He’s far behind the group, finding it hard to continue on when there are so many rocks and blades of grass to look at.

"Sure."

"Might be nice for my guys to get to know each other."

She squeezes Joel’s shoulder tightly before sashaying away through the groups of young golfers.

It's obvious that Tess is trying to get him to bond with her son, Daniel. He tries, fascinated by the difference between a son and a daughter. Sarah is so delicate, hesitant at times whereas Daniel is loud, abrasive and he loves to smash his toy trucks into each other.

It's funny because growing up Joel has always assumed he'd have sons. Perhaps because he'd always had Tommy there, taking care of his little brother like a father would. And then Sarah had come along and it's like he'd been waiting his whole life to meet her, this sweet little girl, folding into the position of "girl-dad" with such ease that he can't imagine anything else.

With Daniel it's especially hard because he just doesn't feel an ounce of connection to the kid. Daniel is sweet, a bit whiny compared to Sarah (but every child that isn't Sarah annoys him) and he doesn't seem to like Joel that much.

Joel watches Daniel hit the pale yellow golf ball with his club, stomping his little foot when he misses the hole. It's almost amusing to see the kid fall down onto his butt in a frustration. He drops to his knee, about to tell Daniel its fine but pulls back when Daniel erupts into a shrieking wail.

Tess is still in the washroom, leaving Joel to kneel next to a screaming boy who is now throwing his body backwards onto the green while his tiny fists and feet bang against the artificial turf.

"Daniel-"

"YOU'RE NOT MY DADDY! LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Joel physically recoils at the aggression in the tiny boys freckled features. He flinches when heads turn in his direction, embarrassment flooding him. The back of his neck feels hot.

"I never said I was your daddy, Daniel. C’mon now. Get up."

Daniel continues to wail. Loud enough for the world to hear. He continues to urge the boy up, his neck warm from the looks of those nearby.

He glances over when he sees a pair of shoes come into his peripheral. Of course it's you. Joel feels his breath leave him as you come into focus.

"Daniel? Was that you yelling? You've got some pretty impressive lungs!" you drop to your knees in front of the sniffling boy. "I bet you're a really good swimmer."

Having expected discipline, Daniel is stunned into silence by your gentle amusement.

"It's no fair," Daniel whines, kicking at the dimpled little ball by his foot. "This golf is stupid."

"Oh, I bet I know what happened," you say with a voice of wonder that Daniel can't help but respond to. You tap your chin theatrically looking into middle distance as the young boy stares up at you.

He hiccups a muttered response, his eyes wet with tears. "What?"

"Come with me." You hold out your hand and he takes it, allowing you to pull him to a stand. He follows you off of the green, allowing the patient family who has been waiting to begin their turn.

You sit by on one of the plastic benches designed to look like wood, patting the seat next to you. Joel watches as Daniel clamors up his eyes rapt on your face. You hold up his pale yellow ball and your bright red one in front of you, looking thoughtful and pretending to weigh them in each hand.

"Just as I suspected," you say with a serious tone. "You got one of the faulty ones. I heard about this happening. The balls look normal but they're unbalanced inside so they wobble and don't go into the cup even when they're supposed to."

Joel can only stare at you. How are you just so natural with everyone? Even Daniel is captivated, his eyes widening.

"That's what happened!" Daniel says in such an exuberant tone that Joel sees you try to hold in a laugh.

Tess has returned from the washroom and is coming up behind Daniel. Joel misses this, so focused on your face and the way you smile with your whole face.

"You wanna take my spot with Jessie and Sarah? I don't mind. I'll even trade your ball for mine."

You hold out your chipped red golf ball in his direction. Daniel smiles, tears forgotten and reaches for it only to have Tess tug him back.

"He's fine," Tess snaps with a sharp look. She comes to stand behind Daniel, gripping him by the shoulder as she looks down at you.

Joel feels his hand tighten reflexively when he sees your smile fade.

"Sorry!" You say red faced. “Just thought Daniel might want to join Sarah and Jessie at the next hole."

"He doesn't," Tess assures you, her eyes flinty. "He and Joel were hanging out, getting to know each other better."

You seem to understand something in that because your eyes go from Daniel to Joel and then back to Tess. You force a smile and nod. You straighten, embarrassment flushed in your cheeks. You look like a child who has been admonished by a teacher.

"Right. Sorry about that."

Before Joel can tell you that you've done nothing to apologize for, Maria and Tommy are calling for you, echoed by the two young girls. Joel watches as you scamper off. Tess urges Daniel to continue on ahead, joining the group before she sneers.

"Jesus does she always have to do that?"

Joel is confused by Tess' anger, twisting to face her. "What?"

"Try to control everything."

"That's not what she was doin', Tess," Joel explains calmly. "Your son was screaming his head off after he missed the cup. She was just calming him down so he didn’t keep causing a scene with his tantrum."

Tess 'cheeks go pink, embarrassed about a litany of things in that sentence.

"She's always just... around," Tess says with a flustered look when Joel openly scowls at her.

"I like her around," Joel says in a voice that does not welcome criticism or debate. "So does Sarah. So do most people."

Tess goes very red in the face, urging Daniel to go join Maria. Joel knows what coming, feels it in his bones. And yet it's not until she says the words that his eyes slip shut.

"I can only assume it was her?”

Joel feels his stomach sink, so aware of their surroundings. This is his babygirl's birthday and he doesn't want it spoiled. His voice is a low murmur that only she can hear.

"Not now. Not here."

"When?" Tess challenges.

"Tonight. At my place."

He’s thought about it since last night after you left. Even if you are with Paul, even if you don’t want him, he can’t do this to Tess. She doesn’t deserve it. He’d have done it last night if it weren’t for the party. He doesn’t want anything spoiling it.

"After I drop Daniel at his dad's?” Tess says with false enthusiasm. “After Sarah's asleep?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe I should just start going through your bedroom window?" Tess says ruefully. "Save some time and that way Sarah will never have any clue that I'm staying over or that I'm in your life at all."

Joel is silent. Nothing he says will change anything. He knows Tess is mad and he knows she won't stop.

"Why are you with me?"

"I said not now, Tess," Joel almost barks. "Not at my kid’s birthday party."

Tess' eyes are glossy now. She's biting the inside of her cheek to stop them from becoming teary.

"Do you have any idea how brutal it is to stand back and watch your boyfriend falling more and more in love with someone else, Joel?"

Joel feels his stomach drop at this, because not only is she completely justified in feeling this way; it’s also become clear that his affection for you is not subtle or hidden. It’s obvious enough that Tess can see it. Obvious enough that she immediately knew you were the one he kissed.

Tess looks about to say more but breaks off to glance over his shoulder. Joel feels his blood run cold at the sound of a new low voice behind him.

"Sorry I'm late."

Of course it's fucking Paul.

Paul who as Joel turns to observe, looks like he stepped out of some hipster magazine. Paul who is giving Joel a very peculiar look with those piercing blue eyes of his.

Paul who has likely just heard all of what Tess just said.

"Have you seen-"

"She's with Sarah and Maria over there," Joel interrupts, tossing his hand in your direction. "We'll catch up with y'all in a sec."

Paul nods, a wrapped gift under his arm as he saunters towards the group. Joel wills himself not to look in your direction when you spot him, giving a soft coo of his name at his approach.

"Tess I can't do this now. Later,” Joel pleads. “After the party we'll talk. I promise."

Tess has tears in her eyes but she nods, sniffling. Silently they walk towards the group, both faces twisted in a quiet anguish they cannot yet voice.

///

Part two of the birthday party takes place in the McDonalds a short walk from the mini golf location. The group of you walks over, Tess holding Daniel’s hand, Sarah and Jessie holding yours. Joel walks behind the group, watching you walk, admiring how you look from behind and then immediately feeling guilty about it.

Maria and Tommy drive on ahead, setting up the balloons and toad decor and a gift table so that when Sarah walks in she knows exactly where to go. She squeals, almost jumping in place as Maria helps to put her party hat on. Paul has brought the gift you bought, wrapped beautifully in shimmering pastels with him.

"Is that for me?" Sarah asks shyly up at him when he places it amongst the others. Paul grins down at her, nodding.

“Yep. We got you something real good.”

You smile at Paul, finding it sweet to see him interact with Sarah. It gives you a glimpse of what he’d be like as a dad.

The kids take a seat around the table and you help Sarah with the plastic bib, smiling as she tells you all about how she hopes she’ll get two burgers (she will, but she’ll only eat half of the first one).

You can see Tess over the crowd of people in the restaurant. She and Joel are speaking just outside the doors. You continue watching as Tess goes to take his hand. He sweeps his hand down her back instead, gently urging her forward and you feel your stomach tighten because you know what that feels like, to have Joel’s hand at the small of your back.

“Are you listening?”

“Huh? Yeah, sure. What?”

You see Joel and Tess approach and try to hold in a frown. Joel's hand is still at the small of her back. Innocuous to most, but painfully obvious to you.

“Gonna get a drink, you want one?”

“Sure. Diet Coke.”

Paul nods, heading off towards the till and Maria walks over, her head shaking as you look on to see the kids eating their burgers just delivered by a tired looking teenager wearing a pasted-on smile.

You and Maria watch as the kids start dueling with their French fries, laughing and dipping them into ketchup before pretending to be stabbing each other with the pointed tips of the crunchiest ones.

“From dive bars to fucking McDonalds,” Maria tuts as she takes a sip of her soda. “Who could’ve seen that happening?”

“Not me,” you say with a laugh, the two of you collapsing into hushed giggles. Tommy walks over, slinging his arm around his fiancée. Maria has brought her new digital camera, taking photos of everything. Right now she chooses to take an unflatteringly close snapshot of her beloved pulling a face into the camera.

“What’re you two gigglin’ about over here?”

“Just the realization that we’re no longer cool,” you say with a dramatic sigh that Maria grins at. Tommy smirks as well. “I wouldn’t smile too much, Miller, you’re just as un-cool as we are.”

“Hey, I resemble that remark,” Tommy growls playfully. Joel, who has noticed the three of you giggling comes over, his eyes traveling along your faces.

“What am I missing?”

“A hat,” you tell him pointedly. You reach beside him to grab several of the pointy cone-shaped paper hats like Sarah and the other kids are wearing and hand them to the group. Tommy and Maria put theirs on without question, as do you, the tight elastic string digging into your jaw.

“C’mon,” you say playfully as Joel hesitates. “Can’t party without a hat.”

Joel shoots you a dark look undercut by the smirk he’s trying to hide. He places the hat on his head, the rubber band taut around his chin. While you and the group look playful, on Joel the party hat looks atrocious with its McDonalds cartoon and Joel’s curls haphazardly askew underneath.

“Nevermind," you giggle. "Take it off.”

The group’s laughter is cut off at the arrival of Tess and then Paul. Tess comes up to the group, specifically standing between you and Joel, leaning her shoulder against his. Tommy and Maria exchange a look before taking a sip from their drinks.

“Looks like the party’s here,” she says with forced joviality.

Maria makes a sound of agreement, her eyes drifting over to Joel and then back to Tommy. Tess glances over at you, giving you a smile with no warmth and you wonder if Joel told her anything.

Does she know you kissed? That you? . . . No. He wouldn’t have told her that.

It makes you feel ashamed. It makes you feel guilty. And then it makes you feel impossibly vulnerable when Joel’s eyes dart to your face from over her head. Paul arrives seconds later to bring you over your soda and the group breaks apart, the moment gone.

///

After burgers, a mountain of soda and a pile of gifts it’s time to cut the cake. Sarah is already buzzing from all the sugar but when she sees the cake she is almost beside herself with delight.

It’s a basic sheet cake with Ronald McDonalds’s image holding a stack of colorful gifts. Six green and purple striped candles line the image. You know the cake is going to taste like wax, but there’s something nostalgic about the whole experience that makes you smile. Paul murmurs a similar observation in your ear and you nod, wincing at the heat of his breath on your ear.

Joel has a lighter in one hand as he motions for Sarah to sit beside him with the other. The rest of the group is gathering around, some standing, and some sitting. Jessie is watching the cake with a look of hunger. Daniel is slouched at the far end still eating his French fries.

"C'mon babygirl," Joel says as Sarah runs over to him. He lights the candles on the cake, chuckling as Sarah squeaks excitedly. She grins up at you from over the cake, her large eyes wide.

“Got your wish?” you ask playfully. Sarah’s face becomes focused and she nods.

“Yep.”

"Alright then, go on and make your wish," Joel tells her, holding the hair back from her face as it dips towards the candles. “Make it a good one.”

Sarah glances from you to her dad and then back at the flickering candles. You smile, wishing that your worries and dreams could be solved by blowing out six tiny flames.

She extinguishes the candles a very focused breath to the cheers of her family and friends and some nearby patrons who love a good singalong. Joel squeezes her tightly, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple as she squirms in his arms from the attention.

"Smile Sarah!" Maria calls from the corner. She raises the compact digital camera to her eye line.

Sarah wraps her arms around Joel's neck and smushes her cheek up next to his. This makes him smile, that broad smile where his eyes disappear and his dimple pops out. Sarah does the same, her own dimple a mirror of her father's. The two of them smile up at the camera in Maria's hand and all you can feel is a debilitating love for them.

It's a deep abiding affection that makes your entire body feel like its glowing but from the inside. You have to look away because you can feel yourself getting emotional.

Then you hear your name being shouted and Sarah is holding out a hand to you.

"I want you in the picture!" she says, her face imploring you. You hesitate, almost feeling Tess' furious gaze on you, burning a hole through your head. You consider not doing anything or insisting you get a photo later. But Joel is twisting to face you, his brows raised.

“Go on,” Paul says tightly. “Be weird if you didn’t.”

With a small nod you move to take the seat next to Joel and Sarah, feeling awkward. You smile at the camera, wanting to get this over with.

But then Sarah shifts to her father's other knee and goes in the middle of you both. She urges you closer until she can get one tiny arm hooked around your neck, one arm hooked around her father's. Satisfied she looks up at Maria.

"Okay Auntie Maria," Sarah says with a broad smile. "You can take the picture.'"

///

Sarah doesn't understand when the three of you stopped existing together. She would never use those words but its how she feels.

Sarah remembers the coloring book you left her signed from toad, telling her to make the world more colorful. To Sarah that's what you do. You sail into the house with stories or cupcakes or hugs and singing and you make her world more colorful.

It used to be so warm and happy at her house because you would be there. Daddy used to smile more often too. She loves when it's the three of you like at the park.

At the park, before ice cream, she and a young boy had been playing on the slide. Sarah called out to you and Joel to watch her. Both sets of eyes had immediately drawn to her with you clapping and cheering.

"It's that your mummy and daddy?" the boy behind her asked.

Without hesitation Sarah had told him "yes", her tiny stomach flipping as she went down the slide, a mixture of excited thrill from the descent and of what she'd told the boy. Because it feels like you’re a family.

But it also feels like there have been less park days. Less nights on the couch watching a movie eating popcorn. Things feel good when you're around but you're not around as much.

But that's all going to change because Sarah made her wish and she knows that wishes come true because last year she wished for a mama. A mama who she could see and talk to and love.

And then there you were! You with your jellybeans and laughter and love and Sarah thanked the birthday gods for being so kind because you were so much better than she could ever have dreamed of.

So this is why she knows that her birthday wish will come true this year as well. As she holds you and her father by the neck smiling up into the camera Sarah knows that everything will be okay.

Because her wishes come true.

///

“I can’t believe how tiny children can eat so much,” you tell Maria when the waxy cake has been eaten and all the kids having stumbled into the play area, shrieking with delight after the grownups have wiped down their cake-covered faces. You’re all gathered around the table, helping Joel to tidy the mess.

Well, everyone but Maria. Maria is looking at the photos on her camera, smirking to herself as she holds it to Tommy.

“I don’t know if I can marry you Tommy, look how badly you photograph. Our wedding photos are gonna be shit.”

Tommy pulls her into an aggressive hug, kissing the side of her neck as she giggles. “Too late. You already said yes, so you’re stuck with me.”

You smile softly before you catch sight of Joel clearing paper plates at the other end of the table, his mouth in a small smirk as he looks at his baby brother. There’s affection in his dark eyes, even as he rolls them.

“Shit.”

You turn to see Daniel in the play area, his face screwed up in silent tears behind the glass. Tess gives a deep sigh through her nose and brushes past you into the area. She kneels beside her son, brushing the hair from his forehead.

Tess is a good mom. And despite how chilly she’s treated you today, you know that she’ll make a good stepmom to Sarah. You push past how that makes your stomach twist.

“Here’s all your decoration stuff,” Joel says, hefting the bag towards you and breaking your gaze from Tess and Daniel. You’re about to take it when Paul reaches out, gripping it and smiling over at Joel.

“I got it. I’ll go put it in the car." He smiles at you. "Then you ready to go baby?”

“In a few minutes,” you say, smiling weakly.

You don’t really want to leave, but you suppose the party is wrapping up.

“Guys, you gotta see this photo of Sarah, it’s so adorable,” Maria says, looking through the overly bright screen hosting the digital images. You and Joel crowd around her, looking over her shoulder. Tommy hangs back, a small smile on his face as he watches you all.

The photo Maria is referencing is the one of Sarah holding up the toad book you bought her. The one listing every species with photos, a CD rom and a poster she can hang on her wall. She’s screaming into the camera, so excited with her gift.

The next image is you, eyes shut in laughter as Sarah has thrown herself into your arms and you hug her tightly.

“Oh, go to the next one,” you urge with a cringe, desperate to see more Sarah and less of yourself. Tommy has wandered over now and the four of you look at the images

Maria acquiesces, flipping through the photos until she lands on the one of Joel and Sarah, cheeks smushed together and smiling up at the camera. Your favorite photo. You, Tommy and Maria let out a communal ‘awwww’ as Joel rolls his eyes.

“Next one,” he says, waving away the attention. You and Maria laugh as her hand rolls the toggle and then the laughing fades.

On the screen is the photograph of the three of you. The one you hadn’t initially wanted to take.

You’re almost shoulder to shoulder with Joel, Sarah’s tiny frame between you. She has each of your necks in the crooks of her skinny arms and all three of you are smiling up at the camera. You’ve never seen yourself in a photo with Joel and so the sight of it takes your breath away.

Your eyes are sparkling and your cheeks are flushed merrily as you grin. Joel’s smile is equally bright, his eyes disappearing when he does. Sarah however, is beaming between the two of you, looking like she’s on top of the world.

And it’s like you see it for the first time.

How the three of you look like a family. How naturally you fit together in this photo, like pieces of a puzzle being snapped together. How when you look at this image it’s like you’ve been a family this entire time.

And then Maria’s finger slips and the next photo is shown. One you didn’t know she’d taken. In this photo your eyes are on Joel as he looks at down at Sarah with an indulgent grin. Your mouth is in a soft smile as you look at him in the photo and it’s so fucking clear in your eyes.

Simultaneously your gazes drift to meet behind Maria’s head, your mouth parting slowly. Your heart jumps because you can see that Joel has seen it too, the obvious thing that you have been terrified to acknowledge.

That you love him.

And then Paul is back, coming up to the group to get you so you can leave. No one notices, even Tommy and Maria seem to have recognized the significance of this moment and have gone quiet.

Confused at the sobering tone, Paul looks from you to Joel gazing at each other and something crosses his face. He drops his light eyes to your hand when he goes to grip it, speaking loudly.

“You aren’t wearing the ring.”

///

If Joel could articulate this moment correctly, he would do so summarily: it feels like someone has reached into his chest, taken his still beating heart and slammed it viciously onto the ground, then stabbing pins into each chamber before setting the entire thing on fire.

The ring.

He’s not stupid. He knows exactly what ring Paul is talking about. Your reaction is immediate. Your face drops and your eyes widen, shooting a meaningful look at Paul. In that look Joel can read exactly what you’re trying to communicate to Paul; I told you not here.

“Wait, you’re engaged?” Tess all but shrieks, a genuine smile breaking out over her face. “That’s amazing!”

You look so incredibly stunned by everything and all you do is nod, offering hushed words of thanks and smiling strangely. Like a puppet who’s face is all strings to be pulled and moved around.

“Congrats,” Tommy offers weakly, his eyes darting to Joel and then back to you. Paul has slung his arm around your waist, holding you tightly to him. Your face has blanched, all the color drained from it.

“Yeah, we weren’t gonna mention it because of your wedding coming up, Mar, but I figure why not share? It’s a happy occasion after all.”

If Joel thought he was upset at the situation, it’s nothing compared to the look Maria is shooting at you right now. A monstrous, furious gaze that he thinks makes you wince.

Joel watches as you murmur something about saying goodbye to Sarah and his attention is back on his daughter, watching her laughing and climbing the play structure, waving to you as she swings down to greet you.

Friends. We're friends .

Joel can't stop the anger that's going through him. He can’t stop shifting from foot to foot as he stands there; arms crossed watching you enter into the play area with a splotchy face. He recognizes this as a hallmark of you trying not to cry.

Doesn’t matter though. You’re not his to console.

Sarah has seen you and she comes speeding towards you, looking concerned. She too has seen the red face and eyes. You must assure her its nothing because the smile is back on her face. Jessie wanders over, her voice silent behind the wall of glass.

His eyes are following your figure as you chase Sarah towards the slide of the play area. He can hear the muffled shriek of his daughter behind the glass before she speeds towards it.

Joel watches as Tess approaches you and Sarah. You and Sarah giggle about something Jessie is saying before Sarah is talking a mile a minute, gesturing to you about something in the play area. She takes your hand, wanting to lead you towards the colorful slides. Tess watches this quietly observing the two of you.

When you notice Tess out the corner of your eyes Joel is shocked to see you immediately sober. Tess is smiling at you, but warily. He watches you step back from Sarah, motioning to Tess to take your place as you head over to a waiting Tommy who has hung back, giving you sad eyes.

What the fuck was that?

"Hey Joel."

Joel glances over to see Paul approaching, his lanky frame strangely graceful. The way he moves makes Joel feel oversized and awkward. He’s the last fucking person Joel wants to see right now.

“Congrats,” Joel manages to rasp out with his jaw clenched.

“Thanks,” Paul says with conviction. “I think I actually have you to thank for it.”

Joel is struck by this. "Me? Why?"

Paul motions to you talking to Jessie near the ball pit. "She never wanted kids before."

"Really," Joel says in a tone so flat it could be road kill.

Paul doesn't seem to notice Joel's recalcitrance, or if he does he leans into it.

"Nah, never considered it. When we were dating and I brought it up she was adamant, always had a reason not to," Paul says with a short laugh. "Said she didn't want to add to an overpopulated planet. Or that she didn't want to pass on her bad genes. Funny girl."

Joel hates this entire conversation. He hates the way Paul stand and talks and acts like he's so fucking deep. He hates how he calls you a girl when you're obviously a woman.

"But after spending time Sarah? I think she's more open to the idea and that's thanks to you. And since she’s serious about kids, she was open to the idea of getting married quicker than she expected."

Joel's narrowed focus has moved from you back over to the man on his left. Paul sounds sincere in what he says, which somehow makes it worse.

"So I guess I just really wanted to thank you."

He's actually thanking Joel for making it easier to knock you up.

Images of your belly swollen with another man's child enter into Joel’s mind. Picturing you with your arms full, rocking a small infant while murmuring sweet soothing words. Images of you laughing in bed with Paul, wearing his ring. And then finally the visage of you, dressed in white, standing there and making promises of eternal fidelity to a man who isn’t Joel.

This all serves to send his entire neck and face burning with an anger he doesn’t expect. One he can’t control. But Paul isn’t stopping; in fact Joel’s silence seems to be prompting him to continue.

“You know, Joel, this wouldn’t even be happening if it weren’t for you.”

Joel's fist connects with Paul's jaw before he even has a second to comprehend what he's done.

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starry-bi-sky · 4 months

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Danyal Al Ghul's missed potential - this kid is not gonna behave like his canon self if he's with the league of assassins until his late formative years, and my reasoning why

(feel free to take this all with a grain of salt this is just my thoughts on it, this is all mostly amusing to me and isn't trying to be negative towards anyone else)

similar to how i was talking about how danny growing up in crime alley would affect him, demon twin aus with danyal al ghul make me laugh a lot (affectionate) because... whose teaching danny to unlearn all the ecofascism he picked up from the league of assassins? whose teaching him to be kind? to be gentle? Not the LoA thats for certain.

(you could plausibly say Jazz but she's only 2 years older than Danny and do you really expect a fellow child to properly explain why X is wrong to another child and have it be 100% effective? i don't doubt it'd help to an extent, but not in the same way an adult explaining it would)

plus a ton of other things, like whose teaching him to value human life? not the LoA. Whose teaching him how to adjust to living with American society after he ends up with the Fentons when he's 8-9-10? Who teaches him that killing is wrong, whose enforcing that?

(not the Fentons if you're going the neglectful parent route, and Jazz can try but i really don't think Danny is going to listen to her, a stranger who isn't even part of his grandfather's league)

How do you teach a child to value human life when the greatest development window for that opportunity has closed and he's already formed his own opinions?

You're not gonna get a Danny whose exactly like his canon attitude if he's staying with the league during his formative years (0-8 years old). you're not. You could get someone LIKE it, potentially, or someone who has traces of it or is similar -- like danny's wit and jokes and sarcasm, and on some level his kindness. but you're not gonna have a carbon copy. Development doesn't work that way. "nature" can only do so much in the face of nurture.

If anything, it doesn't even have to be a major change -- in the league he cans till be kind, but it's probably going to manifest in a different way than what is considered normal. Tough love, for one. But there's gonna be something that affects him negatively. Why make him 'always good/kind' when you can make him a brat who develops into a kinder (if spikier than in canon) person?

TLDR: Danyal Al Ghul would not be like how he is in canon if he's with the league until his late formative years -- not without any lasting pr permanent impacts from the league at least. Missed potential to make him an absolute nightmare like damian was -- especially in his early years when he first arrived to the Fenton house.

(this doesn't apply to danyal al ghul aus where he's either given to the fentons as a baby/is reincarnated/etc. this is mostly aimed for danyal al ghul aus where he fakes his death at like, 7-10 and somehow ends up, personality-wise like his completely canon self by 14 without any differences.)

(and even then if he's five or four, or even three, he would still be traumatized and influenced by the league. he'll just have more time to adjust. the sooner he leaves the league the more likely he is to be like his canon self, but not like an exact copy)

(more under the cut)

Anyways what I'm saying is that there is prime missed Danyal al Ghul potential to make him an absolute NIGHTMARE to the Fentons however way he ends up with them, just like Damian was with the Waynes! Cuz why does Damian get all the fun? Danny got the same training and endoctrine as him! He is also an ex-assassin! Why is Danny the only one who is 'well adjusted and non-violent' hm? Hmm?

Why can't he also be mean, and stabby, and a total stuck-up in some way or another? Have fun with his characterization, its prime opportunity to play play-doh and clay with him! If he starts out as X how does he get the personality traits of Y, and thus become XY?

Like take this with a grain of salt if you will, but make him arrogant. Make him an asshole! Make him a bad person at first! Because he will be! He's the blood son of the batman and you mean to tell me that damian is the only one arrogant about it at first? Make him stabby and mean even at 14 when he's begun to chill out! Have fun with it! If he's with the Fentons at any point past the age of four or five then he's gonna be a nightmare to handle because he still remembers the league and his time there.

(and while it gives him more time to chill the hell out, his time at the league is still gonna leave an impact on him.)

also what im saying as well is have him and sam potentially get along like a house on FIRE. Again, Danny grew up under the views of an ecofascist cult and nobody to challenge those views to him until he got to amity park at whatever age in late formative years he was at. He could be about as intense or even MORE intense about environmental awareness/rights than Sam is!

(also him being supremely unimpressed with Sam's wealth. he gave up a palace in the mountains for this town. because that's funny to me - like let his past have more influence on him! it'll be fun!)

you could have a danny who doesn't kill but doesn't fully understand the value of human life because jazz is like two years older than him and isn't that good at explaining why people's lives are important. he won't kill but he's not morally opposed to it. there's very little chance he actually gets bullied at school because he nearly killed Dash the first time he tried anything.

Danny could have scars, physical ones, because its implied in multiple canon that training starts at toddling (my best bet is 3 at minimum and ~maybe~ 2 but only on the later side of 2. Good fucking luck getting any infant under 2 to do anything you ask, ESPECIALLY assassin training. They're gonna stick the weapon in their mouth sooner than they're gonna do katas. This is coming from a daycare teacher.)

there's more examples of how danny being at the league during his formative years would affect him, but those are just some of them. he could have a sword! An appreciation for weaponry and nature. Maybe he still speaks all shakespearan and formal, does he still make bodily threats to people? If Damian is still threatening people at 14 why can't danny?

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #dpdc #tldr danyal al ghul has a ton of missed potential of what his behavior would be like if he left the league mid-to-late formative years #this post is specifically directed towards those danyal al ghul posts where he ends up with the fentons when he's like. 8 #like great. who taught him to unlearn all of the LoA's programming #how is he exactly like he was in canon despite being with the LoA during his early childhood #source: i've taken multiple child development classes #this isnt to bash those aus at all its just me thinking its hilarious that danny would even remotely be like his canon personality #especially if he's in the league long enough for damian to remember him #like i love danyal al ghul aus i just think there's not enough being taken into account about how the league would permanently impact him #especially if he leaves later on in life #people are not ponds they are puddles of mud. if you drop a rock into it it's gonna change its shape #its also good creative exercises on how to flesh characters out better and better understand how things in a story may impact a character #good thought exercises with the additional bonus of making danny a violent gremlin like damian is #i dont wanna say this is bashing but i guess it is kinda a criticism on the writing in those aus because you’re telling me this had NO #affect on danny on his personality beyond just ‘oh league bad. league scary’?? cmonnn have some fun #like you mean to tell me that being a child assassin had no lasting impact on him or his personality?? like at all???#he doesnt have an ounce of self-importance/arrogance/anger like damian did?? like none of that *stuck?* he’s just the normal and sane #sibling right off the bat??? five years with the fentons turned him into a complete blankslate?? he has no lasting impact from the league??

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sixx-sixx-sixx · 13 days

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TEASER: Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard x female!OC - The Trader’s Daughter

I just wanted to hop on here and share a little bit of what I’ve been working on to contribute to the Cooper Howard fangirls 😭😂 Please let me know your thoughts and feedback is always appreciated!!

Synopsis:

Daisy is the daughter of an ex-vault dweller/wasteland forager named Josiah, who escaped the vault when she was only a child. In his time exploring the wasteland for the benefit of the vault, Josiah meets Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard, who becomes a lifelong acquaintance after a few heated run-ins. Cooper pulls some strings and uses his connections to get Josiah a safe place for him and his daughter, where Josiah becomes a trader of chems and anything else you could want from a trading post.

The Ghoul goes out of his way to make sure Josiah and his flower are well taken care of, and Josiah makes sure that Cooper gets the chems he needs to ward off going feral. Throws in some extra when he sees that Coop’s making an effort to get his kid to gain basic survival skills. (There’s totally a “they were roommates” vibe between her dad and Cooper, but I’m not going too in depth on any of that) Daisy’s just thankful to have a fun time when her Coop comes to visit.

As the years go by, Cooper’s visits to the shop become less frequent, stopping completely when our protagonist is 14. Daisy never stops thinking about the man who her dad trusted more than anyone in the wasteland, the ghoul who frequently went out of his way to bring her small trinkets from his travels as a bounty hunter.

Cooper returns to the trading post after over a decade. Except now, the once welcoming community has become more barbaric, with less smiling faces and more fighting and outlaws. By all means, it was your average wasteland town. He’s surprised to walk into Josiah’s trading post and see a breathtaking young woman come out from the back room, the type of woman men would go to war over in ancient times.

Shocked to see her ghoul standing in front of her, seeing him for the first time as a grown woman, with a grown woman brain and a grown woman body. Daisy had spent many years thinking about him, developed a crush in her teenage years that had bloomed in her chest for a decade. She knew that there was nothing there, there couldn’t be, he was her father’s closest acquaintance for years. He’d watched her grow up, essentially. No way she had a chance, but still, it didn’t hurt to yearn for the irradiated cowboy.

- so yeah. That’s like, the gist of what’s going on so far, it’s definitely not fully fleshed out, but I wanted to post some kind of teaser/synopsis of what I’ve got written messily in my notes app 😅 I want this to be multi part, not sure how many parts yet, but I definitely have at least 4 sections of blurbs in my notes that are going to turn into 4 parts. It’ll be slow burn, definitely a little big of dad’s best friend cooper (I’m just a girl, I can’t help it), definitely some daddy issues at some point, and diverges from canon probably a LOT because I’ve got a general idea of the fallout universe but it’s by no means comprehensive. The first part/chapter is probably gonna be her background, why her dad escaped the vault/maybe how he got acquainted with cooper.

- I also haven’t written anything in years, so be gentle with me 😭

#the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x oc #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard fanfiction #cooper howard imagine #cooper howard x oc #cooper howard #the ghoul fallout #the ghoul #the ghoul fanfiction #the ghoul imagine #fallout tv series #fallout imagine

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haerinari · 6 months

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DAY 23 — MUTUAL MASTURBATION

PAIRING: stepbrother!jay x fem!reader

GENRE: smut, stepcest, masturbation, fingering, pillow humping, dick licking, cum eating.

WARNINGS: smut

KINKTOBER 2023

everything started when you were young, you father had left and your mom was alone with you. even tho it was only both you, you complement each other perfectly. it had always been your mom and you, best friends.

until one they your mom feel in love with a wealthy man and decided to get marry. he had a son two years older than you, his mom died giving birth to him so it was only the two of them.

the day you meet your new stepbrother, Jay, you got along with him pretty well. both of you had a lot of things in common and liked to play soccer, so you adapted to him very well.

that was when you were eleven.

while growing up you realized that Jay was having a few changes in his body. his voice got deeper, he grew a few inches taller, and his features began to become more handsome.

while you, you grew a a little (really little) inches taller, your ass and breasts become bigger, and the worst part. you got your period.

when you were 14 you started to pay more attention to Jay, you knew that it wasn’t totally correctly. but there was something on him that was so attractive in your eyes.

maybe his sharp jaw, his beautiful eyes, his veiny hands with long fingers. you didn’t know why, but Jay was hot as fuck.

now you were 18, and your parents had go to a trip on the beach celebrating his 8th anniversary. and Jay, Jay was out with his friends.

you were on your bed, watching instagram reels trying to be less bore than you were. when suddenly, a video of two girls kissing on a bar appeared on your scream. you weren’t a lesbian, but you had to admit it. lesbian porn was the best.

you watched the video a few times, looking closely on how the girls were kissing and how their hands were traveling around their tits and thighs. you didn’t even notice when your own hand was traveling directly to your pussy, putting the pink panties aside.

one of your fingers traveled up and down your slit, collecting all you juices to finally make circles on your clit. you moaned softly, imagining jay’s fingers instead of yours. thinking that was so wrong, but it felt so good.

you got your pants and panties off, throwing them somewhere on your room. you took one of your favorites pillows to do this things, placing it between your things and moving your hips back and forth. one on your hands tilted up your shirt a little, exposing your pretty tits and pinching one of your hard nipples.

you couldn’t stop thinking about jay.

Jay, jay, jay, jay…

how would it feel to ride his cock, how would his mouth would feel around your nipples, on your pussy, how his long slender fingers would stretch you so deliciously, and obviously, how big his dick would look on your mouth.

“oh~ jay” you moaned. “i’m gonna cum”

you started to ride your pillow faster and faster. pinching your nipples with one hand while the other one was doing circles on your clit.

“fuck, fuck, fuck, jay” you gasped.

you were just about to cum, when suddenly…

“y/n, i’m he—” he said opening you door.

“holy shit! jay!” you screamed, trying to cover your exposed body with the sheets of your bed.

“why were you screaming my name!? i thought you knew i was home and that you were calling me” he said.

“i was thinking about y— I though you were already home, yes” you said, why wasn’t he leaving your room.

“and why are you naked?” he asked scanning you body.

“i just— i was…” you tried to justify yourself.

“wait. you were screaming my name, and i found you half naked, riding a pillow. were you touching yourself thinking about me?” he said with a smirk.

“what!?” you exclaimed. “no, no, i just—”

“yes you were” he said closing the door behind him and getting closer to you. “did you got the chance to cum? or did i interrupted on the best part?

“Jay, what the actual fuck is wrong with you?” you said.

“no, y/n. what the actual fuck is wrong with you? he said emphasizing the last words. “what a pervert stepsister do i have. do you thing this is the first time i hear you moaning my name?”

oh. shit.

jay was so close to your, his lips almost touching yours.

“do you need help to finish, pretty?” he said giving you a peck on your lips.

this was wrong, like, extremely wrong. but you were super horny, and you have wanted jay for so long.

“if you tell mom and dad i swear to god i will kill you” your told him, looking directly into his eyes.

“promise” he said.

jay got even more closer to you, getting off your body the sheets of your bed, leaving you completely exposed for him. he took one of his fingers s place it in your wet soaking pussy, sliding it up and down your slit.

he stayed like that for a few minutes, painfully teasing your pussy. you could see that you weren’t the only one getting excited, because the big erection you could see through his pants was almost begging for attention.

“take you pants off” you said breathless. “i want to make you feel good too”

jay took his pants down his ankles, leaving only his boxers that were taken off seconds later. you knew his cock was pretty, it was the perfect size and shape.

now, you were fully lying down in the bed. jay was kneel down right next to you, with his cock over your tits and one of his hand on your pussy.

You began to pull his cock slowly, feeling his entire length in your hand while he made pleasurable circles on your clit. Jay inserted his middle finger into your pussy, feeling your wet walls clench around his digit. Then he put another finger into your cunt, stretching it in an incredible way, opening and closing his fingers, moving them in a spectacular form. and you, you were pulling his cock harder and harder every time.

Moans couldn't stop coming out of your mouth, Jay was good with his fingers. His cock was so close to your mouth that all you wanted to do was lick it.

you could hear the little whimpers and moans coming from jay's mouth, they were music to your ears. Jay started moving his fingers faster than before, adding circular movements to your clit with his thumb. At this point, it wouldn't take long for you to cum very soon. But at the same time, you also wanted Jay to have his first orgasm with you, so you massage his tip to finally give him a lick all over his dick.

“fuck, do that again and i’m gonna cum” he said.

“cum on my face” you told him.

you licked his dick again and after a few more strokes him cummed all over your face and tits. you opened your mouth, tasting the white liquid that you always wanted to take.

and before you knew, you were also cumming hard on jay’ s hand. moaning his name and finally getting some released. jay took his fingers out of your pussy and put them into his mouth, licking them in a sensual ways, tasting your juices.

“thanks god mom and dad won’t be around for a while” he said with a smirk.

#enhypen jay #jay #enhypen #enha imagines #enhypen smut #park jongseong #park jay #jay smut #kpop smut #smut #kinktober #enha x reader #jay x reader

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livrere-green · 3 days

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ATLA x Omegaverse AU

Part 1 | Part 2

I've been thinking about an omegaverse atla au a lot recently, so I'm gonna vent about it cuz it's getting tiring just to have it spiralling in my head ngl

So, the only thing that I need to mention now it's that the standard age at which someone presents is around 13 to 14 years old. Knowing that, lets talk about the main characters.

Aang (12) would be unpresented by the time of the show. Also, I don't believe that being the avatar makes him an alpha perse. I mean, there's a possibility he presents as one (but he could also be a beta), and it wouldn't have anything to do with his avatar status (historically there could be a higher rate of avatars being alphas/betas, but there are some important exceptions... iykwim). Well, I think he'd present at age 13 almost 14.

Katara (14) is one of the characters that confuses me the most in this aspect, but just to add fuel to her fury and her personality, I'll make her an omega, not the kind that rejects her nature but the kind that embraces it and doesn't see it as something that makes her inferior or helpless. Katara would fight against the life society wants to impose on her in the same way she does in canon, maybe even more. She would resent the people who doesn't respect her because of her gender (just make it double), and at some point, she'd get frustrated about it, but she would think that hating herself would mean letting them win. About her presentation, there's two option: 1. She presented some months before they found Aang, 2. She presented during the first months they were traveling to the NWT (in this case, I think the ideal place would've been Kyoshi Island, because there's people able to take care of her there).

Sokka (15) would be an alpha, he probably presented after Hakoda left (14), he fits the type and the stereotypical personality at the beginning of the show. But I think he would get over it sooner rather than later and he would learnt to respect and don't underestimate betas and omegas just based on their nature. Also, I think that Sokka would scent the Gaang to protect them and particularly to cover Katara's scent as they travel or run away from trouble.

Toph (12) would be unpresented by the time of the show. She'd present as an alpha some time after the end of the war (13). There's not a lot to explain here (talking about her at that age, except for the fact that even during her time with the Gaang, she probably hated Sokka's essence, just as an early hint about her gender). I consider that there's a lot to discuss about her as an adult and how she managed her relationships, but that's a discussion for another time.

Zuko (16) would be an omega, and also a late bloomer, probably presented a couple of years after his banishment (15).. Zuko would be determined to hide his true nature under any circumstances, letting only his Uncle know about it. Ozai would've been informed that his son is a beta, which was already a disappointment for the Royal Family (historically alphas), but it wasn't nearly as negative as being reduced to be treated as an omega. Zuko would end up causing himself a lot of damage in order to disguise as a beta, either by using too many suppressants or other medications, or even hurting himself physically and mentally. He would stop hiding he's an omega after joining the Gaang but It'll be complicated, since he'd be distressed all the time and even Aang and Toph would be able to notice (their senses are not totally develop, so it'll be kinda alarming).

Suki (15) would be a beta, presented at 14. In her case, the characteristics of its gender would be especially helpful to mediate conflict or get out of it. The scent of a beta has calming effects in both alphas and omegas, so she would use it with her friends, or even in battle, to make her opponents lose focus, particularly if their driven by rage. The fans are particularly helpful for that.

Azula (14) would present early as an alpha (12/13). At that age, one of the traits she would manifest the most is assuming the position of head of the pact with her friends, she'd probably scent them with the intention of establishing superiority and control over them. In this context, Mai would be a beta and Ty Lee an omega or a beta as well.

That's all for now, I still have some things in mind for this, but I'll share that later, and if you have questions, I'll be happy to answer!

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luvangelbreak · 1 month

Text

Deprived | Twenty

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 matthew sturniolo x layla venita (female!oc) summary: everyone knows the story of the bad boy and the good girl but what happens when the school's most popular boy, Matthew Sturniolo, and the girl who notoriously is never there, Layla Venita, cross paths. warnings: swearing, smoking, suggestive? word count: 3.3k a/n: this series has been longer than I anticipated but I'm living for the slow burn so it's gonna be a while till we're done folks.

pov: layla

I spent the next week couped in my room, refusing to leave as I quickly smoked the bag of weed Wes had given me. Allie had messaged me in concern multiple times and I finally built up the courage to reply to her a day after her last message.

Allie <3 Monday hey girl are you okay? matt has been off all day 1:30pm Tuesday if u wanna talk im here <3 5:37pm Wednesday im getting concerned pls message me if u need anything 3:47pm

You sorry just havent been feeling good im okay just need time alone 10:21pm

Allie <3 im sorry :(10:23pm

You its okay i'll be at school tmrw 10:27pm

Allie <3 okay! see ya then <3 10:28pm

I locked my phone and threw it lazily on the bed beside me, rolling over to face the wall where my window was cracked open. I was glad my dad was out tonight, having to deal with him for over a week straight was draining and I felt like it didn't benefit my self-loathing in any way. I sighed as my mind always travelled back to the look on Matt's face, the pure hurt in his eyes that I knew I caused.

Part of me was glad he hadn't messaged or tried to talk to me. It meant that I could push him away if I wanted to. I did just that without even consciously meaning to. I got scared and made it his fault in my brain but as I continued rotting in my bed, I realised I hurt him more than I ever meant to. It wasn't his fault that I was afraid of someone being close, it wasn't his fault that I let something so small set me off. I needed to make him realise it wasn't his fault and I was just not used to the affection and accommodation he offered me daily.

I barely slept over the past week and this night was no different. My alarm went off in the early hours of the morning and I knew I had slept a total of 4 hours from the way my brain had constantly been reeling. I dragged myself out of bed and trudged into the bathroom. I took an extra long shower to attempt to rid the disgust I felt towards myself.

After scrubbing my entire body head to toe, I jumped out of the shower and walked to my room. My entire body felt heavy and I felt tears prick my eyes when I looked over to the pink sweater that was still laying over my bag. I picked it up, realising it was the only clean sweater I had since I hadn't been bothered with laundry. I quickly slid it over my head before sliding on my black sweatpants and combat boots. I slid my leather jacket over the top, not bothering with any makeup as I lazily tied my now damp hair into a low ponytail. I grabbed my bag, quickly sprayed on some perfume and grabbed my phone off of my bedside table.

I quickly exited my house without food or water in my stomach and as I began walking down the road, I decided to light one of the last few cigarettes I had pre-rolled. I grabbed my headphones from my bag, slid one into my ear and plugged them into my phone. I clicked shuffle on one of my playlists and I let my feet drag on the asphalt as I slowly made my way down the streets of Massachusetts.

After an hour, I finally arrived in the parking lot of the school and I scanned the cars, my eyes landing where I saw the familiar silver minivan. I paused, letting out a heavy breath as I collected myself and began walking to the group of people in front of the car.

Nate was the first to notice me and he just looked at me with no expression before he turned back to the group. As I got closer I noticed the fact that Mia was standing beside Matt with her head leaned on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around her back lazily and I felt a pang of pure jealousy run through me. I tried to shake it off as I got closer, knowing I had no right to be mad about it right now since I was the one who caused the riff between the brown-haired boy and myself.

"Speak of the devil," I heard Nick say when his eyes caught mine and I was a few feet away, standing uncomfortably as I looked between all of them. All of their heads turned to look at me, Allie being the only one who didn't seem like they were looking right through me.

"Matt, can I talk to you?" I asked quietly as I didn't dare to meet his eyes yet and there was an uncomfortable silence that fell over us, "Please."

"About what?" he asked, his tone short and I looked up to see his face completely expressionless but his eyes held such hurt and aggravation that it felt like it cut right through me.

"Last week," I mumbled, ignoring the pain in my chest of seeing Mia looking at me with a slight smirk. I focused in on the boy I had hurt, his blue eyes piercing in the sunlight.

"Now?" he questioned, not taking his eyes off of me and I just looked at him, the judgement of his friends radiating off of them. He sighed heavily before swinging his arm out from around Mia and I felt a weight lifted off of my shoulders but there was still a pressure on my chest, "I'll be back."

I looked at the ground as he pushed away from the hood of the minivan and he walked past me. I followed behind him, not daring to look back at his friends as we walked to the back of the parking lot before he stopped to face me.

He didn't say anything for a moment as I looked up at him and he scanned me head to toe before murmuring, "That's my sweater."

"Yeah. I left it on my bag all week but I didn't have any clean hoodies for today," I explained and he hummed as I picked at the skin around my fingers, my nails too short to bite now that I had been picking at them all week. I nervously chewed on my lip before I said, "I'm sorry."

"It took you a week to say that?" he asked, his voice quiet but his words laced with pain.

"I didn't mean to hurt you. I know I reacted to what you said horribly but I just-" I cut myself off as I took a breath and looked down at the gravel below us, "I haven't had anyone take care of me the way you do. It scares me. I'm sorry."

I squeezed my eyes closed, chewing on my bottom lip far more aggressively than I intended but my heart raced as I waited for his response. I felt his hand fall under my chin and he lifted my face to look up at him, noticing now that he was slightly closer to me. He used his thumb to gently pull my lip away from my teeth as I fidgeted with the hem of the pink sweater.

"Why didn't you just talk to me?" he asked, his tone softening as he looked down at me and I shrugged dumbly.

"I am bad at talking about that sorta stuff," I answered quietly, my throat closing from the sadness that invaded my body as I looked up at him. I had no right to be upset right now, I was the one who fucked up and made this so difficult, but I felt guilt invade my entire body when I realised I didn't want to push him away. It was habit and I was always bad at breaking them.

"Don't do that again," he demanded softly and I pursed my lips as I pushed my sadness down the best I could as tears sprung to my eyes, "Or I swear to god I won't talk to you again and I don't want to stop talking to you. Ever."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push you away. I just don't know how to deal with everything I'm feeling and I know it's shitty but I promise I'm trying. I have no right to be sad right now because this is my fault but I feel so horrible for making you upset. You deserve so much more than that and if I can't give that to you I understand if you don't want me to be around anymore," I rambled out all of my feelings and conflicting voices in my head but I was cut off by his lips on mine.

I paused for a moment to register what was happening before my body melted into his, his arms wrapping around my lower back as I snaked my arms around his neck. I pulled him into me, missing the way his body felt against my own more than I anticipated. It felt like a breath of fresh air after being stuck in my room for the past week with smoke-filled lungs. He gripped my hips, pulling me impossibly closer to him as I tangled my hands in his hair before he pulled away to breathe for a moment.

"You're an idiot," he mumbled before he leaned back in to kiss me gently again.

"I know," I mumbled against his lips and he ran his tongue against my rough lips, the sting of his saliva hitting the open splits on my lips from chewing them. I hissed and pulled away as he looked down at me.

"You need to stop biting your lip," he muttered as his eyes travelled all around my face, "And stop picking your nails. You're not gonna have any left soon."

"I've been stressed the past week. I can't help it," I whispered as I looked up at him in awe. I had forgotten the pure oxytocin that ran through my system when I was with him and I refused to let it go again.

"Pretty girl," he gave me a sympathetic look and I shook my head as I pulled away from his face slightly, my arms still slung over his shoulders.

"Don't feel bad. This was my doing and I will make it up to you," I answered sternly and his face broke into a small smile. I sighed, the weight being lifted off of my chest now and my body tingled with joy.

"All I'm asking is that you talk to me next time," he whispered, leaning down to place a peck on my lips and I let it linger before I pulled back and nodded.

"I will try," I scratched the nape of his neck lightly and he bit his bottom lip as my face dropped, "Don't look at me like that before we have to go inside. I'll drive us back to your house right now."

"I don't see you for a week and you're ready to jump my bones already," he chuckled and I raised my eyebrows.

"How else can I make it up to you, ya know?" I joked as let my mouth form into a smirk and he shook his head as he pursed his lips, "Does this mean I can come to your game this week?"

"Of course baby," he smiled down at me and I felt the butterflies erupt in my stomach again, promising not only him but myself to never let myself ruin this again.

"By the way," I let my right hand trail from his neck to his chest, playing with the necklace that sat comfortably on his collarbones, "Allie's brother was just dropping me home. He tried to flirt with me but I shut it down. I wasn't lying about that."

"I know. I overreacted. I'm sorry about that," he said softly and I shook my head, twiddling the pendant between my fingers as I looked up at him.

"I know how it looked. I would've been just as upset. You don't need to apologise for it," I mumbled, trying hard to convey my feelings as best I could to which he didn't respond verbally. He instead placed another kiss against my lips and smiled against me as he squeezed my hips.

"Matt!" I heard Chris's voice call from only a few feet away and we both broke apart to look over at him, "You guys done? We gotta go to class."

"I forgot about that," I joked and Chris just gave me a deadpanned look as Matt chuckled.

"We'll be there in a sec," he called to his brother who just rolled his eyes and spun around to walk back to his friends, "They're more pissed at you than I was."

"I can tell," I mumbled as I watched their eyes pour directly into me, "Allie messaged me though."

"She was the only one defending you," he told me honestly and I hummed as I looked back up to him, "I'll talk to them."

"Don't sugarcoat it. You can tell them I'm a dumbass who doesn't know how to deal with her emotions," I stated and he shook his head with a smile, placing a kiss on the top of my head before swinging his arm over my shoulders.

"Come on," he said nodding towards the group and I hesitantly began walking with him by my side. Their eyes stayed glued to us as we approached and Mia gave me nothing but a scowl with her arms crossed, "Chill out. We talked about it."

"That didn't seem like talking," Mia spat and I remained silent, letting Matt handle the situation as I looked at Allie who gave me a sympathetic smile.

"Don't Mia," Matt deadpanned and she only scoffed with a roll of her eyes, "We talked about it and I don't wanna hear it."

"Only took you a week," Nate raised his eyebrows as he spoke and he looked at me. I pursed my lips while glancing between them.

"At least it happened," Matt retorted before the bell rang and he sighed, "We'll talk about it later. Let's go."

He began walking with his arm around my shoulder still and I followed suit, Chris moving to stand on the other side of Matt as everyone else followed behind. We made our way to our classes and once we sat down, a weight fell back on my chest.

Not only did I have to make it up to Matt, I had to win back his brothers and his friends.

+++

Pretty boy where did u go?? 12:23pm

You 🚬 be there in a minute 12:24pm

I locked my phone, sliding it into my pocket as I finished off my cigarette, throwing it onto the ground before I wedged it into the ground with my boot. I made my way back inside and straight to the cafeteria where I saw the group of friends sitting together.

"Hey," Allie beamed as she scooted closer to Mia to make space between her and Matt for me to sit. I smiled at her as I swung my legs over the bench and sat down. Matt placed his arm around my lower back as he continued his conversation with Nick.

"I don't want to wear a tie. That's why I got the red shirt," Matt groaned and Nick gave him a deadpanned look.

"It's prom. You're supposed to look fancy with a tie," Nick stated and Matt ran a hand across his face.

"We're all wearing a tie. Don't be a bitch," Nate pointed out and I tuned them out as Allie tapped my shoulder to gain my attention.

"You okay?" she asked quietly and I nodded with a hum.

"Yeah. Thank you for checking on me," I answered in a hushed tone and she shrugged with her sunshine smile that warmed my heart to know she wasn't annoyed with me.

"Of course. That's what friends are for," she said casually before she turned back to listen to the group conversation. I let her words hang over my head like a cloud.

That's what friends are for.

I don't remember the last time I had a genuine friend and her simple words struck me right in my heart. She had always been kind to me and from the moment we talked, she had been such a light in my life. I realised I not only wanted to share my emotions and feelings with Matt but also with Allie to show her that I appreciated her.

I wanted to be better for both of them.

"How long do we have to stay there?" Chris whined as he threw his head onto the table dramatically and Allie rolled her eyes.

"You're acting like you're being held hostage. If you don't wanna go it's fine," Allie responded, her tone quietening at the end and I could sense the slight sadness at Chris's distaste for prom.

"Al, I told you I'm going and I'll stick to that. I just don't wanna be there for five hours," he lifted his head up to look at her and she shrugged, eyes glancing at the table.

"We can leave early and go back to my house," she offered and Chris's mouth broke into a smile as he nodded.

"Works for me," he said triumphantly before sitting up again, resting his elbows on the table in front of him.

"How are we getting there?" Mia asked, looking around at the group and I just sat there in silence, deciding to go along with whatever plan I knew Allie had already set up.

"Meet up at my house at five thirty so we can take photos and make sure we have everything and then we will leave at like six-thirty to get to the hotel," Allie explained the plan and everyone seemed to hum along in agreement. I felt Matt's arm snake further around my back as he scooted closer to me.

"How are we getting there?" Nick asked and Allie smiled as she adjusted her ponytail.

"I got us a limo," she announced happily and Mia showed her first sign of happiness of the day as she squealed excitedly, "You guys won't drink right?"

Matt and his brothers shook their heads with a firm no and Allie turned to look at me and I shrugged, "Depends on what it is."

"Bottle of champagne in the limo?" Mia asked Allie and Allie nodded causing Mia's smile to widen.

"You're dad won't arrest us if we drink?" Nate asked, the half-hearted joke not landing well with Mia as she rolled her eyes.

"Not if he doesn't know," she pointed out with a slight smirk and Nate raised his eyebrows before nodding in agreement.

"Did you find a dress?" Nate asked, turning his attention to me as he attempted to make conversation. I assumed that in the time I'd been in my other classes and was outside Matt had talked to Nate, Chris and Nick since they weren't glaring at me anymore but they still felt slightly standoffish.

"No. I'm just gonna make my own," I explained and he nodded, his smile in a downturned smile.

"Mad impressive that you can do that," he complimented me and I gave him a half-hearted smile as Matt traced circles on my hip with his thumb.

"Thanks. I just hope I can finish it in time," I explained and I could sense Mia's disgust towards me radiating off of her but I was learning to tune her out like I had always done before Matt came into my life.

Suddenly the bell rang for our next classes and everyone began getting up. I stood up from the table before Matt spun me around and kissed my lips gently. I froze for a moment, shocked at the fact he did that in the middle of the cafeteria but I quickly reciprocated the action before he pulled away.

"See you after school pretty girl," he smirked at me before he walked away and I stood still for a moment as I watched him walk away with Nick, Chris, Nate and Mia.

"You guys are so fucking cute it makes me want to throw up," Allie rolled her eyes playfully beside me and I looked around to see people staring at me once again. I pursed my lips, my cheeks tinging red as I hid a smile and shook my head before I began walking out of the cafeteria.

tags:

@dsturniolo @chrisstankyleg @lov3bug @pinklittleflower @thatcrazybitch-69 @trinity2058 @alorsxsturn @chrizznmetswife @ilovechrissturniolo1 @leprechaunbirthdaygirl @sturnfix @lilsstvrn @sturniololol @sturniolowhore @jebbie-project-blog @jaxyy219

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lilacmingi · 2 months

Text

POLYJUICE POTION

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: Ravenclaw!Hongjoong x Ravenclaw!fem reader

Word count: 2,800

Note: These Hogwarts imagines are from my Wattpad from 2022, so keep in mind that there will not be any continuations or extra parts. Imagines for the other members will be posted in the following weeks!

"Man, I didn't study." San dropped his head onto the dining hall table with a soft thump.

"Again." Hongjoong added, causing the Slytherin to pout in response.

You chuckled, watching the two.

"You never study, San." Hongjoong pointed out.

"He's right." You added.

"I do sometimes." San argued.

"Not this time."

San frowned. "What am I gonna do? I have a herbology test in fifteen minutes and my grades are horrible."

"Cram, I guess." Hongjoong shrugged.

"You know, some people do better when they cram last minute." You supplied, trying to cheer your close friend up a little.

"I'm doomed either way." The Slytherin dropped his head in defeat.

"Don't be like that." Hongjoong told him.

"Hongjoong is right. If you think about it, a little studying is better than no studying at all."

"She has a point." Your fellow Ravenclaw agreed.

"Well, I'd love to stay here and see where this goes, but I have a transfiguration class to get to. Good luck, San."

"Yeah." He grumbled discouragingly.

"See you after potions, Hongjoong." You waved, walking off to class.

You were actually hoping to talk to San without Hongjoong around, but seeing as your poor Slytherin friend was in a predicament, and not alone, you chose to wait and chat later.

Once you left the dining hall, San continued to mope, muttering to himself about how he was going to totally fail.

"Wait. I got it!" San lifted his head, his eyes brightening as an idea popped into his mind. "You have a free period, right Hongjoong?"

"Yes."

"Could you do me a favor?"

"That depends."

"Can you use a Polyjuice potion and take my herbology test for me?"

Hongjoong's eyes widened at the absurd idea.

"You want me to pretend to be you?"

San nodded vigorously with hopeful eyes.

"No way." The Ravenclaw shook his head.

"Please?"

"No. Do you know how hard it'll be to get it done in time?"

"I have everything." He quickly supplied.

Hongjoong narrowed his eyes in speculation.

San clasped his hands together, his bottom lip stuck out in a pout as he begged the older wizard. "Hongjoong, please. Just this once and I'll never ever ask again."

"What do I get in return?" He quirked a brow, his arms crossed expectantly over his chest.

"I'll buy you whatever you want from Honeydukes."

"Whatever I want?"

"Whatever you want."

"Alright. Deal."

San and Hongjoong left the dining hall and made their way down the long corridors of the school, the younger Hogwarts student practically vibrating with excitement. He—Hongjoong was totally going to ace this test for him. He swears he'll study next time, promising himself to make an attempt to do better with his academic work.

"Just let me go into my dormitory and get the stuff. I'll be out before you can say Honeydukes."

Hongjoong hated how chipper San was about this situation. He just gets to hide out while Hongjoong does the dirty work. It hardly seems fair. At least he would be getting sweets out of this deal. Hongjoong smiled at the thought, practically tasting the Cauldron Cake and Fizzing Whizbees.

San returned with a small burlap bag clutched in his hand and a small cauldron hidden under his robes, gesturing for the two to make their way to the bathrooms. Maneuvering around the many students lingering in the hallway, San and Hongjoong snuck off to the boys restrooms to prepare the potion.

"You know once finals roll around you can't cheat, right? They charm the writing quills and parchment." Hongjoong mentioned as he dropped in a small cluster of knotgrass, watching it melt into the thick liquid inside the cauldron.

"I know, I know." San muttered, playing with a loose string on his robes.

The oldest stirred the substance that began to slowly bubble and thicken, tossing in the last few ingredients.

"Ugh. That smells awful." San commented as he pinched his nose.

"You're not the one that has to drink it." Hongjoong pointed out bitterly. "Now come here."

San moved closer to the Ravenclaw who grabbed a strand of his hair, yanking it from his head.

"Ouch!" He whimpered, rubbing his scalp.

"Payback." Hongjoong commented, dropping the wisp into the roiling substance.

Plucking one measly hair from San's head wasn't nearly the amount of payback he deserved for putting Hongjoong in this situation, but it was enough for the moment. Hongjoong would decide if his younger friend needed further punishment after this situation plays out. If all goes well, then all San lost was a strand of hair.

"You're doing me a huge favor." San told his friend, noticing the bitter expression etched on his face. "I promise I'll study more."

"You'd better." Muttered Hongjoong as he stared at the icky substance in the ladle, his stomach churning in response. "Remember, you owe me." He reminded the Slytherin.

"Of course." San nodded.

And with that, Hongjoong downed the mixture, cringing immediately at the taste. He then started coughing, feeling the potion take effect.

After a few agonizing moments, he stumbled over to the bathroom mirror to see if the concoction worked the way it was supposed to. Polyjuice potions can sometimes go awry if you don't pay attention to what you're putting in it.

"Heyyy, you look handsome." San grinned at Hongjoong's reflection, which now showed an exact replica of the dark-haired and dimpled wizard.

Hongjoong glared at San through the mirror, clearly unamused by his antics. His cheeky grin fell from his face. It was only then that he realized how much time was left for Hongjoong to get to class.

"You have to hurry. You've got less than five minutes." He shoved a small satchel into the Ravenclaw's chest. "Here's all my stuff."

"Yeah, yeah." Hongjoong waved San off, hurrying out of the bathroom.

The Ravenclaw disguised as a Slytherin grumbled to himself, suddenly regretting doing this "favor" for his friend.

It's completely foolish.

Why did he let himself be swayed by sweets?

Stepping into San's herbology class, Hongjoong moved towards a seat near the back of the room. This wasn't his first time using a Polyjuice potion. He had done so for practice in potions class a year prior, but he had never used it for real life circumstances such as this one. What if someone tried to talk to him? He would have to pretend to be San. What would San even say? Probably something stupid.

Please don't let anyone try and talk to me.

He wished you were there. You'd help calm him down and tell him everything would be okay. No. You would have turned the whole idea down in an instant. If San had brought up this half-baked idea moments earlier while you were still in the dining hall, you would have shut him down.

"No way is Hongjoong going to do that. San, you're my friend, but you've gotta tough this one out. Plus, it's just one test."

That's what he imagined you would say.

"Alright class, get your quills and parchment ready. The quiz is about to start."

Letting out a long, drawn-out sigh, Hongjoong retrieved the items from San's satchel and began the test.

An hour and a half later, class had ended, the rather stressed Ravenclaw feeling like he could breathe a sigh of relief. The test wasn't all that difficult. He was a year above San, so he remembered some of the material from when he had taken herbology his sixth year. At the very least, he got San a high B, which was probably much better than the forgetful Slytherin could have done.

Hongjoong stepped out of the classroom, planning to make a beeline for the bathrooms before the potion wore off. He zipped past students, weaving his way through the flurry of witches and wizards. When the sign for the boys' bathroom was in his line of sight, he picked up his pace, wanting to get there quickly. Until...

"San!"

You had just gotten out of your potions class that let out a little early for the day. Spotting a familiar head of dark hair hurrying down the hall, you called out to him, finally having found the opportunity to speak to San alone.

"There you are." You ran over to him.

"Hey, Y/n." He greeted with a smile, seeming a little off.

"How'd your test go?"

"I think I did alright." He responded.

"That's good to hear. Cramming works sometimes." You gave him a light slap on the back. "Listen, I really wanted to talk to you earlier, but Hongjoong was around so I couldn't. Do you have time?"

This caught his attention.

Something you couldn't say around him? Was there something you and San knew that he didn't?

"Of course. What is it?"

He could see you were a bit nervous, maybe even a little hesitant, but waited for you to speak.

"I'm finally gonna confess to him."

"San's" eyes widened upon hearing that as it clicked into place instantly.

"To Hongjoong?" He questioned, just to make things a bit clearer.

"Yes, to Hongjoong. Why do you seem so surprised? You know I've been crushing on him for two years."

"Two—" He paused, clearing his throat in an attempt to gather himself. "Y-Yeah. Of course."

Your face fell a bit in realization.

"Oh. You're not surprised... you think it's a bad idea. Don't you?"

"No!" He spoke up abruptly, being a bit louder than he intended. "I mean... I think you should go for it."

"Really?"

"Yes. Absolutely."

You chuckled. "You're a bit enthusiastic about it. It's almost like you know he'll say yes or something." Your expression was then replaced with horror. "You didn't say anything to him, did you?"

"No. I didn't. I just have a feeling that he probably feels the same as you. I'm a guy. We know these things about each other."

He cringed internally at that last part, but it seemed like something San would say, so he went with it.

"Ah." You nodded, taking in deep breath. "Okay. Well, if you see Hongjoong, could you tell him to meet me at the Marble Staircase Tower on the top floor, you know, the one that overlooks the Quad?"

"Yes! I'll be sure to tell him."

"Thank you. I'm so nervous."

"You'll do f—" Hongjoong had reached a hand out to place on you shoulder, pausing when he saw his polished pinkie.

The potion was beginning to wear off. He needed to get out of there fast.

Noticing the expression on "San's" face, you spoke up, asking if he was alright.

"I'm fine! Good luck with Hongjoong. I have to go."

You didn't have time to reply as San hurried off, bumping into people as he headed down the corridor.

"Choi San!" Hongjoong shouted, storming into the bathroom.

The wizard in question jumped in response to his name being called so loudly. Stepping out from a stall, he was met with Hongjoong, who seemed to have already returned to normal.

"Ah. You're done. How did it—" He couldn't even finish his sentence for Hongjoong blowing up.

"Y/n has had a crush on me for two years and you didn't say anything?" He exploded.

San's eyes became wide before he tilted his head in confusion.

"How did you know?"

"She stopped me in the hallway to tell me she was finally going to confess. She thought I was you."

San's mouth formed an O shape as he realized the cat had been let out of the bag.

"I can't believe you didn't say anything." Hongjoong went on.

"I promised her I wouldn't. How would you feel if someone told your crush you liked them and they didn't feel the same?"

"San, that's the issue. I like her."

The Slytherin's eyes widened in surprise.

"How was I supposed to know?"

Hongjoong sighed, realizing he had no reason to be upset. "You weren't, because I never said anything."

"Well, she said she was going to confess to you. Did she tell you anything else?" San asked.

"She wants me to meet her at the Marble Staircase Tower."

The Slytherin's jaw dropped.

"Then, what are you doing standing here? You have to go meet her." He rushed.

"But... what would I say?"

"Just act casual. Think about it as if you don't know why she wants to meet with you."

"But I do know why she wants to meet with me."

"Pretend you don't." With one, final shove, San pushed Hongjoong out of the bathroom. "Now, go get your girl, loverboy!"

"San!" He whisper yelled.

"Go! Go!"

Hongjoong sighed and started down the corridor, heading in the direction of the Marble Staircase Tower, his heart thumping rapidly in his chest.

By the time he arrived at the bottom of the tower steps, he was out of breath, but his determination overpowered his exhaustion as he continued on. He hurried up the stairs, sometimes skipping one in an attempt to reach the top faster.

The opening for the highest floor came into view and as Hongjoong reached the top, he spotted you waiting for him, fiddling anxiously with the sleeves of your robe. His heart fluttered nervously as he approached you.

"Y/n?"

You turned, your face lighting up at the sight of him. He wouldn't have noticed this had he not known your feelings for him.

"Hongjoong. You made it."

"Of course I did. What did you want to see me for?"

He could see the way your shoulders raised as you took in a deep breath in preparation for what you were about to say.

"There's something important I want to say to you before I chicken out." Your eyes met his, as if to get confirmation to continue.

"Yes. Anything. Tell me anything." He nodded, his round eyes watching you with anticipation, waiting to hear your confession fall from your pretty lips.

"Hongjoong, I've had a crush on you for two years. I know this is abrupt and you probably don't feel th—"

"I like you too." He cut you off.

"Wh-" You paused. "What?"

"I have a confession too. It wasn't San you talked to in the hallway."

Your expression dropped immediately.

"San asked me to take his test for him and I agreed."

"Polyjuice potion." You muttered under your breath as everything clicked into place.

"Right."

"So, I practically confessed to you right there." It was a question, but it came out as more of a statement.

Hongjoong nodded wordlessly, confirming your fears. But wait... he said he liked you too, did he not? You were too busy being surprised that Hongjoong used a Polyjuice potion to pose as San that you completely glossed over his confession.

"You said you liked me too?" You asked.

"I do. A lot."

He bravely took a step forward, his eyes briefly flicking down to your lips. The feeling of his palm brushing against your cheek as he cupped it made you realize what was about to happen, and you most certainly weren't against it. You watched with bated breath as Hongjoong inched closer to you, the space between your faces diminishing until you could feel his lips ghost against your own. You didn't wait for him to initiate the kiss, instead you leaned forward, being the one to close the sliver of space that was between your mouths.

Hongjoong's eyes fluttered closed at the contact, his hand that cupped your cheek moved to the back of your neck to pull you in closer, needing more of you.

Your body felt like it was on fire, as if someone had cast an incendio spell on you. Your fellow Ravenclaw was feeling very similar, his body rushing with warmth as he held your bodies flush against each other. Your fingers clung to the collar of his robe, tugging in an almost desperate manner as you pressed your mouth closer to his, a blissful sigh escaping you. It didn't take long for things to get heated, the both of you kissing each other with such ferocity that you wondered if anyone could hear you.

As much as he didn't want to, Hongjoong pulled away, both of you huffing breathlessly. You glanced up at him with half-lidded eyes, your brain still foggy from such an intense kiss.

"I hate to put a stop to this, but we've got a transfiguration class in seven minutes." He mentioned hoarsely.

You groaned in disappointment, dropping your head onto his shoulder. "I totally forgot."

"We can always continue in the Ravenclaw common room after classes are over."

You lifted your head at that and Hongjoong could see a glam in your eye that made him chuckle.

"We should go." He mentioned, smoothing your hair out. "Don't want to be late."

Seonghwa ⟡ Yunho ⟡ Yeosang ⟡ San ⟡ Mingi ⟡ Wooyoung ⟡ Jongho

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