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#I feel no pressure from you and I appreciate it
swiftispunk · 2 days
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spring breaks loose | joel miller x f!reader
a your summer dream one shot
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It's spring, you're young, you're lovely, you have a right to be happy. Come back into the world.
–Shirley Jackson, We Have Always Lived in the Castle
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pairing: joel miller x f!reader rating: 18+ word count: 11.2k
series warnings etc: [NO OUTBREAK] we'll call him dad's buddy!joel, fairly soft!joel, age difference (28/50), angst, smut (will specify with each chapter), fluff, alcohol, food, secret relationship until it's not.
chapter summary: building bridges and starting fresh. it's springtime in austin. chapter warnings: smut, lots of fluff, a sprinkling of angst, consensual somnophilia, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, squirting, vaginal fingering, oral (m receiving), alcohol + intoxication, reader is so very eepy, food, discussions of infidelity, a whole lot of dialogue and tying up loose ends, heather comes with her own warning, in this house we hate chris, time hop, pov swapping. no use of y/n.
a/n: we have reached the penultimate chapter of ysd (for real this time). thank you to everyone who has stuck around this long. thank you to @frannyzooey for helping me work out a few things in this chapter, @joelscruff for beta'ing, and @5oh5, who offered me plant guidance many moons ago now. i also wanted to just boost the fact that i do have a kofi account, and while there is never any pressure to tip, life is hard rn and i always always appreciate the help. love ya'll sm.
*lastly: be sure to see the very end of this post for a special SNEAK PEEK of the upcoming final chapter of your summer dream.
january
-
"I'm really happy," you insist, and in spite of it all, Joel's lips twitch up at the corners. You've told him how happy you are about a thousand times, but watching you confidently profess it to your father is something else entirely. 
"I'm really happy, okay?" you repeat, firm as you stare down the man across from him. Your father's face remains unchanged, stoic and blank as he nods. Joel swallows tightly as you nod back, and then you're gone.
Neither of the men utter a word until the back door swings shut behind you. Joel can feel your father's eyes on him, but he can't bring himself to meet them. He should say something. He clears his throat but then–   
"Joel...since Costa Rica?" your father asks. He doesn't sound angry, Joel notes. No, he sounds…hurt. 
At last, Joel looks up from the table, and your father stares back at him with obvious confusion in his eyes. Confusion and–as Joel had imagined–hurt. 
Joel sighs. 
"Yeah," he nods solemnly, shifting in his seat. "Yes."
Your dad just shakes his head, and Joel can practically see the cogs turning in his mind, playing back those days at the resort, piecing it all together in real time. 
"That whole time we were there, you–?"
"No–" Joel cuts him off. "Not…not the whole time."
Like that makes it better. Your father doesn't look at him, still lost in thought, still shaking his head defiantly. 
"I was…we were right across the hall. You–all that sneaking around–we–you–"
His rambling dissolves into incoherent sputtering until Joel finally chimes in again.
"I'm sorry," he says, and then he's shaking his head too, like he's just as much in disbelief about the whole thing as his best friend is. And he is, really. Couldn't believe it then, can hardly believe it now. "I know. I'm sorry."
"Goddamnit, Joel," your father suddenly exclaims, a palm coming down hard on the tabletop. His anger seems to catch up with him, as though Joel's quiet apology had somehow been the final nail in the coffin. "She's Sarah's age! I mean, that–that's my daughter!"
Joel swallows and sniffs back a heated flow of emotion. He knows he deserves it, deserves every bit of your father's ire. But that doesn't mean it doesn't sting, that feeling of being scolded by his oldest friend in the world. He shrinks a bit and crosses his arms over his chest defensively.
But he doesn't actually defend himself at all. For some reason, he digs the hole deeper. Maybe he's tired of lying. 
"Younger," he grumbles, staring down at his hands. 
"What?"
Joel clears his throat, cautiously daring to meet your father's accusatory glare. 
"She's younger than Sarah."
There's a long and painful beat of silence as your father sits back in his chair with a heavy, exasperated sigh. 
"What the hell is this, Joel?" he demands. Still biting, still cold, though not quite as infuriated. 
Joel seizes the opportunity. He leans forward, elbows on the table, pleading. Where to begin? He thinks about what he'd want to hear if the roles were reversed–and starts there.
"Everythin' was mutual, right from the start–I swear," Joel begins. "And I...I mean, I couldn't even remember the last time I seen her before that day at the airport. I ain't never even thought about her like that before. Then we were–spendin' all this time together, which you wanted us to do–"
"Uh-uh, don't you go puttin' this on me," your dad cuts in. "You know damn well this ain't what I had in mind."
Joel nods. 
"I know, I know," he agrees. "I didn't mean–sorry."
Your father doesn't respond. Joel sighs.
"Listen, she was hurtin', man–you don't know the half of what that boy did to her," Joel attempts to reason. "We got to talkin' about it all and I...I just wanted to be there for her, you know? And, sure, there was attraction there, she's a beautiful girl–"
"Alright, alright, alright," your father interrupts again, grimacing. "I don't need to hear about all that."
Joel nods again, swallowing back the words he'd been about to say–that the attraction had, miraculously, flown both ways. That you'd wanted him just as much as he'd wanted you. That he never would have sought you out if he hadn't known that was true. 
He contemplates his next words carefully. 
"Look, it wasn't right to keep it from you," Joel concedes eventually. "We–or, I–got caught up in it. You think I expected this? I mean she just–," Joel shakes his head, lost for words again as his cheeks warm and his lips curl into this fond little smile when he thinks of how completely and quickly you'd made a home for yourself in his heart, "She took me by surprise, man. But you know what it's like when you got a good thing goin'. You don't wanna risk losin' it."
Your dad just frowns, his mouth seemingly fused into a hard, unforgiving line. 
"Costa Rica was months ago, Joel."
Joel sighs. 
"I know. I know, okay? I wanted to tell you sooner. But she wasn't ready for that and I wasn't gonna go against her wishes."
Your father's jaw ticks as he chews on the inside of his cheek, thinking. Coldly assessing the man across from him like he's seeing him for the very first time. Joel crumbles under that stare, hates how it feels coming from someone he's known so long. 
"You know me, man," Joel pleads, wide eyes boring desperately into your father's. "You know me. When have I ever gone for someone younger? When have I ever even wanted that?"
Your father's face doesn't change but he also doesn't argue, so Joel goes on.
"All I wanna do–all I have ever wanted to do for that girl–is take care of her. And I-I know maybe it's…uncomfortable–"
Your father scoffs at the understatement of the century, and Joel can't help the way his own lips twitch upwards too. It's a moment of genuine camaraderie, of two fathers well aware of the absurdity of their situation. Their matching grins quickly fade, but nevertheless, Joel feels somewhat more at ease when he next speaks. 
"–but it's real," Joel concludes, "What we got. S'hard as it is to understand–and believe me, I ain't even sure I understand it, but…"
His voice trails off into a pensive sigh, mirrored by your father. There's another stretch of silence, but the air feels less tense now, a little less thick with disdain. Again, Joel ponders what he'd want to hear if he was in your father's shoes. What would give him the peace of mind to know this was okay?
"I'm…" he starts to say, but he's shocked to find the words get caught in his throat, obstructed by a sudden lump of emotion. He grunts past it, straightening his spine and squaring his shoulders while your father looks on with furrowed brows. 
"I'm in love with her," Joel finally manages, voice low and laced with devotion. 
It's infinitesimal, but Joel could swear he sees your father's eyes soften. 
"I ain't told her that yet," he continues. "But I think she knows. I think she's a smart girl, and I think she knows this is real, too. Hell, I don't think she'd'a stuck around this long if she didn't think I was serious about her. And so, I…I think you gotta trust her on this one. Even if you don't wanna trust me."
Your father crosses his arms over his chest and takes another long, weighty sigh. 
"Jesus Christ, Joel," he mutters, shaking his head down at the table. But it doesn't sound angry or even hurt anymore. It almost sounds teasing, and Joel almost laughs. 
"I know," he smirks. "Trust me, I know."
"S'pose I got no business tryna forbid it, do I?" your father says.
"She wouldn't let you even if you tried," Joel replies, grinning wider when he thinks of how you'd respond to that. You, so independent and sure of yourself. Yeah fucking right.
Your dad huffs out a single laugh. "Ain't that the truth."
Tentatively, both men sip at their drinks, falling back into something of a routine. It still feels…awkward. But the worst seems to have passed.
Meanwhile, Joel's heart is pounding in his chest as the reality of his admission catches up with him. He loves you. He's in love with you. He's never said it out loud before. His entire body suddenly aches with the need to see you, just so he can say it again and again and again. 
Joel polishes off his drink, pursing his lips around the burn of whiskey on his tongue. The two men lock eyes, and Joel thinks maybe–maybe–he can see the early signs of forgiveness there. 
"I get it f'you need some time," Joel says. "Guess I just…wanna make sure me n' you are gonna be alright."
Joel's best friend sighs, before nodding slowly and sympathetically. 
"Yeah," he grunts. "Yeah, we'll be alright. C'mon–"
He cocks his head to the side as he rises up out of his chair and Joel hastily follows suit. Your father pulls him into an affable, if somewhat unsure, embrace, firmly patting his palms over Joel's upper back. Joel returns the hug instinctively.
"Don't fuck this up, Miller," your father grumbles over Joel's shoulder.
Joel chuckles, honestly grateful for the familiar ribbing. "Won't. Promise."
That's about the time you come charging back through the door.
-
four months later
-
A blanket of grey coats the early-April sky above, a telltale sign of rain to come. It's appropriately ominous, you think, considering what you're about to do.
Joel herds you toward his truck in the driveway with a hand on your lower back, but something in your periphery gives you pause. A glimpse of colour that hadn't been there before, stopping you in your tracks about halfway down his front steps. 
"Those are new."
Joel stops too, following your eye line as he casually throws an arm across your shoulders. He smiles when he sees what you see, letting you guide him a little closer to what had once been an unassuming, mostly barren patch of dirt on his front lawn. Now, poking out from the otherwise lifeless bushes are a handful of tulips, vivid green stems giving way to pink and yellow petals, tentatively blooming in spite of the day's limited sunlight. 
"Oh…yeah," Joel shrugs. "Sarah and I planted 'em. Years ago. Grow back every year around this time."
You're not sure why that stirs something in you. But it does. 
Joel Miller has tulips in his garden.
Curiously, you inch towards them, crouching to delicately curl your fingers around the unfurling petals.
"They're beautiful," you muse. You turn to face him and find he's watching you with equal curiosity. "Pink and yellow?"
"She picked the pink."
"Adds up," you nod. "What made you go with yellow?"
He stares at your fingers fiddling with the stems, and shrugs. You think he seems a little shy. 
"Can't remember," he says. "They're sunny, I guess. Bright."
A tightness knots in your throat as he reaches out beside you to touch his own fingers to the petals, softly running his thumbs against them, seemingly deep in thought. You think of a younger Joel Miller, picking out yellow tulip seeds to plant with his daughter because they reminded him of the sun. A younger Joel Miller digging holes in the Earth to lay down his roots, burying a memory only to watch it grow back, year after year. A sure thing, a constant. Always there even if you can't see them.
Of course Joel Miller has tulips in his garden. 
"What?" he probes after a moment of prolonged silence. You clear your throat. 
"Nothing," you smile, craning to kiss his cheek and feeling the low rumble of his responding chuckle against your lips. "I love you."
He cups a hand over your face before you can get too far, pressing his mouth to yours in a deeper, far less chaste kiss. 
"I love you too," he murmurs as he pulls away. 
You're still thinking about the tulips as Joel backs out of the driveway, and the first of the day's raindrops begin to hit his windshield. You make your way out of the safety of the cul-de-sac, and with the low hum of the radio playing in the background, you count the houses on the street outside your window in an attempt to calm your nervous mind. 
Joel doesn't interrupt your silence. But as you merge onto the freeway, your heart begins to pound–and you decide you need a distraction. 
"It's nice they grow back every year," you say absently out the window. 
"Hm?" Joel's brows furrow as he glances over at you, sitting with your chin atop your fist and staring out at the steadily increasing rainfall. He quickly catches up with your train of thought. "Oh, the tulips. Yeah, it is nice. 'Specially after Sarah left. They always reminded me of her."
You nod and make some noncommittal humming sound. Talking was a stupid idea actually. 
As ever, Joel notes your demeanour. 
"You alright?" he asks, taking your hand across the centre console and squeezing three distinct times. 
You sigh.
"Just nervous."
"You'll be fine," he insists lightly, not for the first time. "I reckon she's a lot more nervous'n you are."
You can't argue with that. Heather is the one who fucked your ex-boyfriend. Heather is the one working to make amends. Heather is the one who threw away your friendship and is now asking for it back. 
"Yeah, that's probably true," you agree quietly. 
Joel sighs. He lifts your conjoined hands to his mouth to lay a kiss against your knuckles, keeping his eyes on the road as he does. 
"Just…remember, you're not goin' there to forgive her or to…pretend like nothin' happened," he says. "But I think you'll feel better once y'get this all hashed out."
"I know you're right," you nod, allowing the truth of his words to wash over you as you take another steadying breath and lean your head back into the seat behind you. "I just feel like I-I've been carrying the weight of this for too fucking long. I have to let it go. I'm doing the right thing."
It's a mantra you have to keep reminding yourself of–you're doing the right thing. Not just from a being the bigger person standpoint, but for you. You need to do this so you can close this chapter of your life for good. 
"You're takin' the time to hear her out after all the shit she put you through," Joel goes on. "Makes you a better person than most people I know."
The pride and adoration in his voice makes warmth bloom in your tummy, but you roll your eyes all the same–out of habit more than anything else. 
"I don't know about that."
"I do."
His gaze darts in your direction again, and there is no trace of a lie in that look. So you choose not to fight him, just smile tightly and accept his reassurance, falling back into comfortable quiet for the rest of your drive. 
By the time he pulls up in front of the cafe you'd agreed to meet Heather at, your nerves have returned tenfold. Is she already inside? You're ten minutes early so maybe not. Is it better if you're here first or would that make her feel weird? Why are you worried about making her feel weird?  
God, it never used to feel this terrifying to see your best friend. You have half a mind to ask Joel to wait with you but ultimately decide against it. You need to be a big girl about this. 
"I can do this," you tell yourself instead. 
"You can," Joel agrees, taking you in his arms and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Call me if it goes south and I'll come pick y'up, alright?"
You nod resolutely as you unravel yourself from his hold. 
"'Kay. Thank you."
"Good luck, baby girl."
With one last parting kiss, Joel lets you go, watching you from the driver's seat until you disappear behind the door of the cafe.
-
Heather is not there yet, as it turns out, and you can't tell if that makes this better or worse. 
Now you're faced with new dilemmas. Should you order her a coffee? You haven't seen her in eight months; what if she takes it differently now? 
She fucked your boyfriend–why would you buy her a coffee? the pettier part of you wonders.
And that's…true, you suppose.
So you buy yourself a latte and get it in a to-go cup, find a seat at a two-person table in the back of the dining room and wait. But not for long.
Barely five minutes later and Heather is coming through the door. She spots you and there's a moment of awkward uncertainty as you half-rise from your chair, the both of you waving at each other before Heather gestures to the line at the till. You nod and retake your seat.
You resist the urge to text Joel. You can do this. You can do this on your own.
Heather settles up, cautiously setting her coffee cup on the table beside yours and you're not sure why–instinct or something–but you stand when she gets there, and let her pull you into a hug. 
"Hi, babe." Her voice is thick and her arms are tight around you. And, goddamnit, for everything she put you through, there is a familiarity in that embrace, something long-forgotten in the warmth of her voice. 
"Hey," you murmur, letting her squeeze you in tighter before you both pull away. "Hey."
She assesses you with wide, wet eyes, hands still resting on your shoulders.
"You look amazing," she says.
"Thanks."
"I don't even know where to start," she shakes her head. "Thank you for seeing me."
"Of course." Like you hadn't stewed over it for literal weeks.
"Why don't I just–I mean, I have to–"
You can see her struggling, and you can't help but sympathize. She was always the more confident of the two of you, always more direct and brave–but in that warm kind of way that used to always put you at ease. Now, she seems completely lost, awkwardly taking a seat and waiting for you to do the same. She clutches her hands around her coffee cup and you don't think you've ever seen her look so small. 
"I am…so fucking sorry," she finally says. She doesn't shy away from you when she says it, and you have to respect her courage for that. She looks you dead in the eyes and doesn't avert her stare even once. 
You swallow tightly. "I know."
"Can I…would you let me explain?"
"Actually, Heather," you say, straightening in your seat a bit to steel yourself. Heather's face falls, until you go on, "Can I go first? I just need to say my piece and then, yes, you can explain."
She's nodding furiously before you even get the words out.
"Of course, yes, oh my god, please."
She sits back, probably gearing up for the lashing of a lifetime. It's not quite what you have planned but–
"You really hurt me. You and Chris. Whatever the story is, whatever went down, it doesn't change the fact that what you two did just... completely fucked me up. My entire life changed overnight because of you. I spent so many days crying, screaming, trying to just...figure out what I'd done to deserve that. Why wasn't I enough? Why wasn't I good enough for Chris? Why wasn't I a good enough friend to you? Like, if I was a better friend to you maybe you wouldn't have done that to me, you know?"
Fat tears slowly well in Heather's eyes as you speak, finally spilling over as you near the end of your monologue. But she doesn't interrupt or argue, and for that, you're grateful.
"I wondered about all of that for a really long time," you continue. "In those first few days when it was hardest...and for so many months after. But...I'm okay now. I think actually it all kind of worked out in the end, as crazy as that sounds."
At least it had all brought you to Joel.
"But I just needed you to know what it did to me. I think it's important that you know."
Heather hastily swipes at her tears, blinking them away and nodding her agreement.
"And that's it, that's all I have to say," you conclude. The weight on your shoulders feels lighter already. "You don't have to say anything back but...I do want to hear you out. You can...you can tell me what happened now."
That was the point of all this after all, you guess. 
Heather takes a deep, shaky breath. You sip your coffee. 
"Okay. Well, fuck. Okay. I had feelings for Chris," she begins. "But I never–I never dreamed of acting on them while you two were together, you have to know that. It wasn't premeditated or-or-or something I actively thought about–"
"I never thought that."
It's true. Heather's a lot of things, but she's not conniving. 
"Okay," she nods, seeming genuinely relieved. "Good. I mean, it still doesn't make it right, I know that. But he–"
She cuts herself off, a nervous shiver passing over her. Her courage wanes, and she looks down at the table as she dives into the part of her story that neither of you wants you to relive. 
"That night at your birthday party, he started telling me things. He…"
Her voice trails off again, and you can understand her fears, but you need to know this. Whatever it is.
"Heather, it's okay, you can tell me."
She glances up at you. You make your resolve as clear as possible on your face until you see her nod. 
"What happened was…I was drunk and I-I told him how I felt," she continues. "I shouldn't have done that, I know that. But that's when he started saying all this stuff about how he wasn't happy and how he was planning to break up with you. He-he said he'd always wanted to be with me instead."
She stops, peeking up at you, but the only response you can offer her is a curt little,
"Oh."
Interesting. He'd made no indication of his unhappiness to you. 
"In that moment, I just…I believed him. I should have just come straight to you but I let my stupid feelings get in the way and I–"
"He can definitely be very convincing," you say bitingly. Heather almost laughs, but quickly reins herself in. 
"It's no excuse, and I know that," she says. "I just really thought he meant it. That he was going to end it with you and choose me instead. Not that that would have been okay either, but. God, in hindsight, I just was not thinking clearly at all."
Heather buries her face in her hands but it's getting hard to focus. You're flitting back through memories, trying to piece things together. Had there been signs? Since meeting Joel, you're acutely aware that you hadn't been as happy as you could have been with Chris, but you can't ever recall letting that on at the time. And you certainly can't recall Chris ever letting on his unhappiness. It doesn't add up. 
"Then he did end it with you and you went to Costa Rica and I felt like, 'Okay, this is what he'd promised,' but…I could tell right away he was having second thoughts. All of a sudden, he's changing his tune, saying he wants to get back together with you and basically telling me I could just be like a-like a side piece or something."
At that, you scoff mirthlessly. Of course.
That's why he hadn't let anything on. He'd been trying to have his cake and eat it too. Motherfucker. 
"Yeah," Heather goes on. "So I said, 'Fuck you' and I walked. I was already feeling terrible about what I'd done to you and that just settled it for me."
"Fuck," you sigh, pinching at a pressure point between your eyes.
"And I haven't talked to him once since then," Heather insists. She reaches across the table and wraps a hand around your wrist, and you let her. "I promise."
You place your own hand over hers–again operating on some kind of deep-seated instinct. 
"Thank you," you tell her. "For–I don't know, for being honest."
"I would've told you everything sooner if you'd have let me–"
"I know."
"But I know–I know you needed your time. You didn't have to hear me out at all, and I would have deserved that. I take full responsibility, I do, but, my god, babe–," Heather's lips pull up in a smirk and you share a knowing glance, "–that guy fucking sucks."
You could try to fight the way your own face contorts into a grin, but you don't. 
"Yeah," you agree. "He really fucking does."
There's a short beat of silence, filled with the sounds of your uncertain, quiet laughter.
"Are we okay?" Heather finally asks tentatively, letting your arm go. "Or–shit. Sorry. You don't have to answer that."
"No–it…I don't know yet," you say truthfully. "But, you know, I don't think you deserve what he did to you, either. And I'm sorry."
"I'm okay now. All I really care about is you."
You smile at each other tightly–uncertainly–and sip quietly at your coffees. She doesn't demand forgiveness or push the subject further. You think the air feels just a little clearer now, a little more like before.
"So what's new with you?" she chimes in after a moment. "How've you been? You never post on Instagram anymore."
Your smile turns a little shy as you debate telling her about Joel. But her gaze is so earnest and curious, it makes you want that normalcy, to be able to gush to your best friend about the man you've fallen in love with. 
"Well," you shrug, sitting up a little straighter in your chair. "I'm seeing someone."
Heather's jaw drops in genuine delight, her eyes going wide with wonder.
"No way! Tell me everything."
And you do. You tell her all about Joel and Costa Rica, and every perfect moment since. Heather gasps and squeals at all the appropriate times and you find yourself remembering why it feels so good to have someone to talk about these things with. It's so validating to watch someone be as excited about your love life as you feel about it. 
"Wait," she interrupts, early on in your retelling, "If he's your dad's friend–how old is he?"
You bite your lip, hardly bashful about it these days, but after the disaster that was telling your parents, you never know how someone could react anymore.
"He's in his fifties," you confess.
Heather's hands come up over her mouth, but her eyes are swimming with barely-contained glee.
"Shut up, oh my god," she exclaims. Her initial shock fades into awe, and when her hands fall from her face, you think she looks kind of impressed, "Damn, girl. That's hot. Is he hot?"
You smile. "He's so fucking hot."
When you're home later, you'll have to remember to tell Joel how good it had felt to brag about him. You're sure he'll act coy, but you know it'll make his ego bloom, just a little bit.
It goes on like that as the minutes pass, you catching Heather up on the whirlwind that the last eight months or so have been. She looks kind of proud, and that feels good too. You're so proud of Joel, proud of the life you've built together, the way he's taught you so much about yourself and helped you grow into this new, happier person. It's nice to have someone else see that.
"So, your mom still doesn't approve?" she asks once you've got her fully up to speed.
You shrug. "Not as far as I know. I haven't spoken to her since that night we told them."
"Oh, babe."
You just shrug again, pushing back on her sympathetic gaze. 
"Maybe she just needs some time," Heather posits, "I mean, you seem so happy. She'll see that eventually."
"Maybe, yeah."
Heather offers you her own scoop after that, telling you all about how she's been busy working on herself, taking courses to get her yoga-teaching license and enjoying being single for the time being–though she does work in a few stories of some particularly exciting hook-ups. She seems well, and in spite of everything, you're happy for her. 
What's more, you kind of don't want your time with her to end. She seems to sense it too.
"Hey, do you want to maybe grab a drink? Like, a real drink?" she offers once your take-out cups are empty and the cafe's traffic has slowed to an early-evening lull. 
"Yeah, okay, fuck it," you agree with a shrug. Heather smiles excitedly before excusing herself to the bathroom, leaving you to check your phone for the first time in hours.
Everything good? reads a text from Joel. 
all good, you reply, i'll be a little later than i thought. 
Take yr time. Love you.
love you too.
-
A cocktail deep, pop music blaring, and a plate of nachos between you; this is true familiarity with Heather.  
You're finally starting to feel some semblance of comfortable, and it feels fucking good. To laugh with an old friend, even if there's still that faint undercurrent of distrust there. You imagine it won't ever fully go away. The minutes tick by, and while that distant uncertainty never fades, it gets easier. It gets fun.
"So, be honest," Heather says, diving headfirst into her second blended margarita. Her eyes sparkle with a devious little glint and you already have a feeling what she's going to ask. "This guy…he's in his fifties, right?"
"Right," you grin. 
"So like…what's the sex like?"
Your grin widens as a warmth floods your cheeks. You think about Joel, his patience and his generosity, his big cock and his skillful hands. His curiosity and his devotion, every new experience he's offered you and how genuinely thrilled he seems to do so. You try not to think about it for long, though, because your tummy is already fluttering in a way it really shouldn't be in public.
"Honestly," you say, sipping at your drink coyly. "I don't think it could possibly be any better."
Heather makes a delighted little noise, practically bouncing her chair. 
"Oh my god, okay…but what about like, his stamina?"
"Um," you laugh. "Hasn't been an issue yet."
"I love this for you so much, babe," she smiles and it sounds like she really means it. "Can I see what he looks like?"
You have no qualms saying no to that. You may be stupidly in love, but you don't think it's biased of you to find Joel Miller beautiful. It's simply an objective truth. And it feels good to show him off.
You pull your phone out of your purse and flash Heather your lockscreen–a picture of Joel on the beach in Costa Rica, salt-and-pepper curls tousled in the breeze, soft belly poking out over his swim trunks, smiling at you over his broad shoulders.
"Oh my god," Heather repeats, yanking your phone right out of your hand for a better look. She taps the screen to keep it alive as she stares between the picture and you, smiling triumphantly across from her. "Whoa."
"Mhm," you smirk, your chest swelling with pride. 
“That's a man, baby," she commends you, handing back your phone. You sneak a parting glance down at the image of Joel on your screen before locking it. Heather sits back against the booth behind her, shaking her head in wonder. "And he sounds like he's so good to you."
You nod, sighing dreamily. "Yeah...he's the best."
"Good. You deserve that."
It's honestly a touching sentiment, one that makes you warm and soft. You didn't know how nice it would feel to have just one person in your life accept your relationship with Joel without any convincing at all. You share a smile and clink your glasses. 
"I need an older man," Heather jokes, the sincerity of the moment quickly dissipating. "I'm so sick of boys."
"Joel certainly puts Chris to shame, that's for sure," you admit candidly. 
Heather huffs. "Yeah, well, that's not saying much, is it?"
You almost squirt your drink out through your nose. 
"Sorry, oh my god," Heather laughs, but it's too late. And it's probably wrong, but you don't care. You both descend into a fit of giggles at your ex's expense, and something about it feels weirdly cathartic.
-
It's like old times after that. Easier to forget the drama when you're three drinks deep and laughing so much. You're comfortably drunk in a way you haven't been in a while, falling quickly back into your usual repartee with Heather. You feel lighter–freer–as you and Heather find your way to the dance floor and pick up basically where you'd left off nearly a year ago.
You also miss Joel.
He's being respectful, clearly trying to give you space, texting you to be safe when you'd let him know you'd be staying out a little longer. And that's nice and all, but you've talked about him so much tonight, and for all the fun you're having, you just want his arms around you and his lips on yours again. 
"Didn't we go to high school with that guy?" Heather leans in close as you dance, effectively distracting you.
You follow her stare across the bar, averting your gaze the second you lock eyes with a handsome stranger leaning against the far wall. He's with a friend, and the two of them eye you and Heather with unabashed interest.
"Which one?" you giggle. 
"The one on the left!"
You peek over at the men again, honing in on the one on the left. He does kind of look familiar. He's also still watching the two of you curiously.
"Uh…" you wrack your brain, trying to recall. It feels like a lifetime ago.
"Tom!" Heather exclaims. You shake your head. 
"That doesn't sound right."
"No, it is! Tom from the basketball team, remember?" 
You look over again, but it's still not clicking. Maybe you're drunker than you'd thought.
"He's kinda cute," Heather murmurs slyly in your ear. You grin. 
The man is tall and lean, light-haired and certainly good-looking enough. A little older than both of you, but younger than the broader, burlier man beside him. You think maybe they could be brothers. 
"Do you want to say hi?" you ask her. 
Heather shakes her head.
"I have a better idea," she winks.
She grabs your hand and guides you to the bar, leaning against it and lengthening her body ever so. It doesn't take long before the men are coming up beside you like clockwork. 
You could always count on Heather to find a way to get free drinks.
"What are you drinking, ladies?" the younger one implores confidently, placing an elbow on the bar top beside Heather. "Oh shit, do I know you?"
"I want a shot," Heather says, ignoring his question. "You guys want a shot?"
"Fuck, yeah–whiskey alright?"
"Tequila," Heather smirks definitively.
-
Despite being out of practice, you haven't lost the ability to recognize good vibes from bad. And the guys give off good vibes. Especially once you all collectively figure out that you did indeed go to high school together. 
You shoot a pointed look at Heather when the younger one tells you his name is, in fact, Tim. 
"From the basketball team, though, right?" Heather asks. Tim frowns.
"Actually, it was water polo," he says.
"Water polo!" Heather repeats, looking at you with open arms and winking. You try to conceal your giggling. "Of course, I remember now."
Tim grins bashfully, even though you are sure Heather most certainly does not remember. 
You cheers to the Ravens and down your shots and then Tim ushers Heather back to the dance floor. You happily let her go. Tim seems kind of goofy, consistently making Heather throw her head back in laughter and it honestly feels nice to watch her look so content. You think about how Joel had made you feel those first few days in Costa Rica, when you'd still been reeling with all that heart ache. 
You think about how much resentment you'd harboured for Heather back then, and while it's not totally gone, there's a sense of kinship there now too. Chris had hurt you both, and you know all too well how healing it had been to find someone willing to stitch up the wounds he'd left. You want that for Heather. 
Goddamnit, you miss Joel. 
You imagine showing him off to all your old high school friends like he was some kind of trophy husband at a class reunion. You'd walk into the gymnasium, hanging confidently off his arm and everyone there would turn and stare. They'd all whisper about his age, you bet. Call you mean names behind the bleachers and gossip about whether or not he was your sugar daddy. Thinking like that used to make you anxious, now it makes you grin. 
"You want another drink?"
The other guy, Mike, is still sitting with you at the bar. He is Tim's brother, though you don't recognize him at all. Two years older and visiting from Philly, he's pretty clearly into you. But the conversation has been easy and he hasn't tried anything weird, so you don't think too much of it. You regale him about all your favourite local taquerias and what you studied in college, conscious of the way he seems just a little bit too interested in all of it. 
But you definitely don't need another drink, bordering on the better side of too drunk, and as nice as he is, you think it's probably best not to lead him on any longer. 
"Actually, I think I might head out soon."
"That's cool," Mike shrugs, polishing off the beer in his hand. "Wanna go grab a bite? Keep hangin' out?"
He sounds casual enough, but there's also an air of hopefulness in his voice. 
"Oh, that's okay." You clear your throat, suddenly nervous at the thought of quashing that hope. "I'm, um, I'm actually spoken for."
Unconsciously, your fingers fly to the shell around your neck, fiddling idly with the chain. Mike's eyes follow the motion.
Much to your relief, Mike smiles, seemingly unbothered. 
"Makes sense," he nods. His eyes trail up and down your body in a way that makes your cheeks burn. It also really makes you miss Joel. He's the only one you want looking at you like that. 
"Well, he's a lucky guy, whoever he is," Mike says with a wink. 
"Yeah," you agree fondly. "He is."
-
It's a quarter past eleven when Joel finally hears a car pull up outside. Two minutes later and your key is turning in the door, Henry bounding off the bed beside him to greet you downstairs. 
"Hi, baby boy!"
Your voice, high-pitched and much too loud, cuts through the quiet of his home. He smiles to himself as he listens to you kick your shoes off, murmuring unintelligible nonsense to Henry as you both make your way back up to the bedroom. Joel sets his book on the nightstand and tilts his glasses down his nose, sitting up straighter until you emerge in the doorway with Henry in your arms and a crooked smile plastered across your face. 
"Hey, sweetheart," he smirks.
You visibly soften at the sight of him, Henry spilling out of your grip.
"Hi," you whine.
Joel can't quite get a read on your energy, watching you curiously strip off your jeans and crawl up the mattress till you're splayed out on top of him.    
"Mmmm, Joel," you sigh dreamily as you make yourself at home across his chest. 
"I take it that went alright?" he asks, wrapping an arm around your neck to stroke the back of your head. You practically purr into his sternum and the sound makes his insides turn.
"Yes," you nod, before pressing both hands into his shoulders to push yourself up so you're straddling him, "But, Joel…"
Now face to face, you appear a bit dazed as you blink down at him, an adorable little pout painting your features. Joel smirks, raising his eyebrows expectantly as he waits for you to finish your thought.
"I missed you so much," you conclude, catching him off guard when you fist the front of his t-shirt and dive forward to slant your mouth over his.
You plunge your tongue between his lips and Joel can taste tequila there, can feel it too in the way you're kissing him; sloppy, hungry, eager. 
"Only been gone a few hours, sweetheart," he chuckles against your lips.
"I know, but…after the cafe, we went drinking and–"
"No shit."
With what appears to be considerable effort, you push yourself off his chest and point an accusatory finger in his face. Your eyes narrow and Joel thinks you look a little too adorable for your own good. 
"Watch it, Miller."
Joel grins. 
"Mmmm, or what?" he hums, tracing his palms up and over your sides, which seems to distract you for a moment, your eyelids fluttering as a minute shiver visibly courses through you. You quickly pull yourself together.
Your blissful features quickly dissolve back into an overdone pout and Joel watches with amusement as you pry his fingers off your body. He could resist, but he doesn't, honestly just curious–and maybe a little turned on–as you collect his wrists in your hands and pin his arms down on the mattress beside his head.
Seemingly content with your work, you hold him there with eyebrows raised–and Joel decides to let you have the win. 
"Can I finish my story, please?"
"Yes, ma'am," he smirks. You bristle at that but otherwise manage to stay on track.
"We went drinking, and it was really, really fun," you go on. You shift your weight slightly, and Joel smirks when he catches the moment you lose your train of thought at the feeling of his hardening cock beneath you. 
"And?" he presses.
"I-I think I'm still mad at her…but it was…nice."
"That's good, baby," Joel murmurs, experimentally rolling his hips upwards just to watch your eyelids flutter. "I'm real proud of ya."
You exhale, making a sound that's almost a sob as you abandon your grip around his wrists to fold yourself over his chest again. You greedily kiss his neck and his ears and his face, and Joel lets you. Your drunken desperation is making him harder than he'd like to admit, and it's pretty fucking endearing to watch you suck your little marks into his skin with no inhibitions whatsoever.
"I talked about you a lot," you smile, clumsily resituating yourself so you're lying against his side, folding yourself in half so you're speaking the words against his belly. 
"Yeah?" He rests his hand on the back of your skull, chuckling at the way you keen into his touch. "Talked about me how?"
"Wouldn't you like to know," you sneer just as you curl your fingers under the waistband of his boxers.
"What're you doin' there, baby girl?"
You peer up at him with a devastating puppy-dog stare, all wide-eyed and needy. "I missed your cock. I just wanna suck on it a little."
"Jesus," Joel breathes. He's powerless to fight you then as you tug his boxers down his thighs to reveal his semi-hard cock. He really shouldn't let you in this state but you're already wrapping your fingers around him and tonguing at his slit and it's too fucking late now. He stiffens fully in your grasp and promptly loses any will to stop you.
Then you close your lips around his length and take him as deep as you can, moaning like he's just given you the sweetest gift in the world. 
"Fuck, yeah, you missed it," he grunts as you begin to bob, downright eager with it, if not lacking some of your usual finesse. You coat his cock with sloppy strings of saliva and move on him in an uneven rhythm but Joel's not gonna argue with a hot, wet mouth. Joel is more than happy to watch you take what you want from him. 
"Messy girl," he remarks affectionately, stroking a palm down your spine to your ass, firmly cupping your cheek in his hand. "This all you wanted? Just to come home and let me stuff that pretty little mouth?"
"Mhm," you hum blissfully around him, spluttering a bit as you swallow him down again.
"Fuck, that's a good girl," he groans.
At that, you whimper, your cheek falling into his belly with your mouth still closed around his cock. You keep up the motions of your mouth for a moment, humming and moaning around him as you draw precum from his tip and suck it down greedily until he feels your jaw slowly begin to slacken.
He pets your hair and your body goes loose, heavy where it lays across his middle.
Joel can sense a shift in you then, your eagerness fading even as you continue to lap at his tip. Your fingers feel a little weaker around his shaft but you don't let up, lazily jerking him until he feels your hand go still, your lips barely grazing him anymore. You offer him a few wet, open-mouthed kisses to the head of his cock and then you go limp.
Joel waits a moment to be sure, peeking down at you questioningly.
Sure enough, you're asleep. 
"Oh, baby," Joel sighs fondly. He squeezes your ass but you don't stir. Your slow, steady breathing lets him know you're really out, his hard cock forgotten in your grasp. You'll probably be embarrassed in the morning, but Joel's just stupidly endeared, hoisting you up into his arms and ignoring your half-conscious sounds of protest. 
"C'mere, sweetheart, there you go."
He nestles up behind you, cradling you into his chest with his cock pressed against your ass. You shimmy back into him and Joel tries to ignore the ache, tells himself it'll feel better to fuck you in the morning when you've sobered up anyway. He reaches back to turn off the lamp on the nightstand and you whine at the loss of his body against yours. 
"Joel," you whisper as he retakes his place behind you. "Did you come?"
He fights for his life not to burst out laughing. You're so goddamn cute.
"No, baby," he murmurs, kissing his favourite spot behind your ear. "Made me feel real fuckin' good, though. You can make me come tomorrow, alright?"
You hum contentedly, already drifting back to sleep. Joel pulls you in tighter, whispers that he loves you even though he doesn't think you can hear him, and it's not long before he's following behind you.
-
His alarm wakes him just as a beam of sunlight passes through his window, but it doesn't have the same effect on you.
You snooze peacefully with your back adhered to his chest, the gentle curve of your ass still flush against his cock. Your panties are gone; had you gotten up in the night? He can't remember now. It doesn't matter anyway, not when he can feel the heat of your body this close, bare flesh all soft and warm against him as the memory of the night before floods his senses. He'd fallen asleep with his dick still hard–aching–and within seconds of being awake, he's right back where you'd left him last night. 
Not that it's uncommon for Joel to wake up horny when he sleeps next to you, but it's worse like this, worse that he's already felt your lips on his cock just a few hours prior, without getting the chance to come down your throat.
"Hey," he murmurs into your hair, but you don't wake up. You just move your hips backwards unconsciously, the hard length of his cock pressing warm between your cheeks. Driving him fucking crazy and you don't even know it.
Joel growls, a low, carnal sound he barely recognizes as he trails a hand down the side of your body. He cups your ass in his palm and spreads your cheeks apart, the tips of his fingers just barely grazing your hole. You shiver and Joel smirks. Sound asleep and you still respond to having your ass played with. Something about knowing you so well makes him that much harder. 
Pliant and gone, you let him play with you, hands traversing every inch of your skin, up and over your belly to cup your breasts. His breath ragged in your ear, he gently twists your nipples just to feel them come alive under his touch. You squirm for him and Joel responds in turn, unable to help himself as he begins to slowly rut his hips against you. 
"Sweet thing," he husks, feeling his touch grow rougher on your hipbone, your ass flush against his bulge as he grinds into you like a fucking teenager. "You don't even fuckin' know. Got no idea what you’re doin' to me, do you?"
He knows you can't hear him. Right now, he doesn't care. 
He's wanted you like this since Costa Rica, too nervous to ask until you'd given him the okay all those months ago now. He's had you so many ways, and still you say you want more. He's not sure what he ever did to deserve you, but if one thing's been true from the start, it's that Joel Miller is not strong enough to deny you anything. 
Something about this, though, feels decidedly selfish. His hand on your thigh, positioning your pliant muscles to his liking, bending your leg at the knee just so he can spread you open wider, slip his fingers between your ass cheeks and scrape them over your bare pussy; that's for him. 
The sticky wetness he feels there–that's his. 
Your spine arching in your sleep when he sinks two fingers into your warm, dripping hole–that's because of him. 
"Still want it, baby?" he hums as he pumps his fingers in and out. "Still want this cock?"
He doesn't wait for you to answer. For once, he just takes. 
You put up no resistance as he replaces his fingers with his cock, pulling your body back into him until his hips meet your ass.
"Fuck," he hisses as he bottoms out.
You're so warm, so tight and inviting and perfect around him.
You're so wet, slick pools of arousal coating the hairs on his lower belly, sticking to your skin where it touches his.
And you're so soft, all gooey and loose in his arms as he slowly rocks into you, as close as he can possibly get and somehow never close enough. 
"S'my good girl," he breathes, "Take it just like that for me. Finish what you started, huh?"
He moves without haste, content just to feel you like this, close and confined under the covers. Experimentally, he reaches around you to touch his fingers to your clit, sighing in amazement when your pussy clenches on his cock, a wave of slick gathering at the place you're connected.
"Yeah? That feel good?" he says to no one as he gently circles your pearl. He's rewarded with a breathy little moan, the prettiest fucking sound he's ever heard. His hips snap against yours with more force now, jostling you with you every thrust. He can feel his control waning, and he's gonna wake you up soon if he's not careful. 
Maybe he's done being careful. 
Cock still buried inside you, he rolls you both so he's lying above you, your body prone to the mattress beneath him. Your fingers curl into little fists and then you gasp, eyelids fluttering against the light of morning. Something dark and animalistic twists in him when he watches the awareness creep across your face, the way your features contort and you strain to look back over your shoulder, piecing it all together. 
"Oh my god," you whine when it clicks. "Joel, fuck, fuck–ohmygodJoel–"
"Shh, I know, baby, I know…I got you, you're okay," he babbles, folding over you to nip hungrily at your shoulders. You throw your head back and expose the column of your neck to him and Joel bites down there too just because he can. "Just had to feel you like this. You were so wet."
"Oh, fuck," you cry, voice still hoarse with sleep as Joel pounds into you harder. No reason to hold back now. "Fuck yes, Joel, take it."
"Yeah?"
"Please."
That's all he needs to hear.
With his arms wrapped firmly around your middle, Joel sits back onto his knees, taking you with him as he drapes you over his thighs and pulls you down onto his length. Your body still feels weak with sleep, almost passive in his grasp in a way he's not sure he should enjoy so much. He doesn't overthink it. 
What he does is find your clit again, massaging his fingers over the bundle of nerves while he thrusts his cock up into you. A wanton moan pours from your throat and Joel catches it in a messy, open-mouthed kiss. 
"There you go, there you go," Joel rambles when he feels you start to quiver, your pussy constricting around him as you spill listless, needy sounds of pleasure onto his lips. "Feels so good, don't it? Wakin' up with a cock inside you. This is what you wanted. Yeah? You gonna come?"
"Yesyes, fuck, yes Joel, I'm coming–"
"I know," he grins, "I know, baby."
He knows because he feels it. He feels you pulse around his length, feels your muscles seize and loosen, feels your little clit twitch beneath his fingers as he coaxes you through your high. He also feels something new, something wet and warm and sinful. 
"Oh, good girl," he groans. "Fuck–look at that."
You're gushing for him, liquid pouring out over his fingers and his cock and his balls, staining the sheets beneath you. You writhe in his arms but Joel just keeps fucking you, fucks you until he's drawn every last drop from you. Fucks you until he's coming too, clutching you against him as his cock spasms between your walls and paints your insides with spend. Hot cum leaks out around his length, drips down your inner thighs, and makes a mess of your already messy pussy. 
He comes and comes and then it ends, strangled moans fading into ragged breaths and heady grunts of release. 
"Jesus," Joel pants into the hollow of your ear as he slowly comes down. "You alright?"
"Yes," you sigh. "Holy shit, thank you, Joel. Thank you."
He's got no fucking idea what for. 
He pulls you off his cock and turns you in his lap to face him. Your arms coil around his neck and you cling to him like a koala, your face buried in his chest. He holds you there, because he thinks you might need that–and also because he wants to. 
"How'd I get so lucky, huh?" he ponders as he gently strokes your hair.
"I'm lucky," you protest softly. "I was trying to tell you that last night."
"I thought you were tryin' to suck my cock."
You laugh breathlessly, unravelling yourself from him just enough to let him see your face. You curl your fingers into his hair in a possessive sort of way that would probably make him hard if he hadn't just come so thoroughly. 
"That was supposed to be an act of gratitude."
"For what? I didn't do nothin'."
He tries to keep his tone as light as yours, but his insecurities always bleed through no matter how hard he tries. You sense the earnestness in his voice, and match it head on. 
"That's not true. You've made everything better," you whisper, touching your forehead to his. "I'm so fucking happy you're in my life."
He's gonna have to ask you exactly what all went down with Heather. He figures for now it can wait. 
You kiss him and he kisses you back, his furrowed brows softening as your lips move against his in a now-familiar dance. The sun rises over Austin and though he's not sure he'll ever have the words to tell you, Joel thinks he's pretty damn happy you're in his life too.
-
"So I was thinking," you say around a mouthful of eggs the following Saturday.
"Uh-oh," Joel grins. 
You fix him with a look and his grin only widens. 
"Anyway," you continue pointedly, shovelling another forkful of eggs into your mouth. "I was thinking–I'm kind of on a roll here. You know, in terms of, like, building bridges or whatever."
"Sure," Joel nods.
"And I'm thinking that…maybe I'm ready to talk to my mom."
Joel's eyebrows shoot up his forehead. "Yeah?"
"Yeah, like…" you shrug, focusing on your breakfast as you talk out what's been on your mind since you'd seen Heather last weekend. Being with her and hearing her side of the story had given you some foundation with which to forgive her. It's been gnawing at you that you haven't really given your own mother that chance. Perhaps if she could just see how happy you are, she'd eventually come around. 
You explain all this to Joel, who nods along and hums his agreement. 
"I just feel like I've…closed myself off to her and it's not really fair for me to just expect her to magically see the light, you know? I mean, look at dad. He's been coming around more, he's been seeing us together. And he's basically okay with it all now. Maybe it's just me, you know? Maybe I need to let her in."
Joel shakes his head, smiling at you affectionately. "You're too good for your own good, you know that?"
You scoff and wave him off. 
"Whatever. But don't you agree?"
He appears to mull it over, sipping his coffee for a long moment before eventually sighing. 
"I do," he nods slowly. "But I also think…you got a right to protect your peace. Lettin' her in means exposin' yourself to all the shit that might come with that."
You bite your lip and nod. You know that. You know he's right. You know it might blow up in your face to try to repair that relationship. But some little voice in the back of your head keeps telling you to do it anyway. A cloying, aching need to just…put things back in place.
"I guess I'm just tired of feeling so angry all the time," you confess. "I'm just…walking around with all this unresolved bullshit hanging over me and it's…I mean, it's exhausting. I didn't realize how exhausted I was until I saw Heather, you know? If I potentially have the power to do something about that, then I think…I think I should."
Joel smiles, his sweet brown eyes crinkling at the edges. 
"Then I'm with you, baby," he says, reaching across the table to cover one of your hands with his own. "Whatever you gotta do."
You nod resolutely, spurred on, as ever, by his unwavering support.
-
On Sunday, it rains.
Heavy showers pelt against Joel's windshield, his truck parked in the driveway of your parents' home. A quick text to your mom the day before had confirmed she'd be home around this time and that she'd be more than okay with you stopping by for an afternoon coffee. Unlike when you'd sat outside the cafe in this same truck a week ago, you don't feel nervous to see your mother. Instead, you feel a strange sense of duty and an unflappable air of confidence. All you have to do is show off how happy Joel makes you for a couple of hours. What could possibly be easier than that? 
Plus, you're not really worried about your mother coming at you with any kind of outward disdain. She can be oddly cordial when she thinks someone is mad at her.
"I'll stay close by," Joel tells you. "Take you home when you're done."
You frown. "What? You don't have to wait for me, that's silly."
Joel just shrugs. "Ain't no thing. Don't want you takin' the bus in this weather."
And Joel thinks you're too good. 
"I wish you could just come in with me."
It had been the only stipulation your mother had outlined, or at least that's how you'd interpreted her text asking, It's just you coming, right?
You'd burned with rage at that, typed out an entire message in Joel's defense, but he had insisted it was fine. One thing at a time. He could sit this one out. 
"Next time," he murmurs, leaning across the centre console to kiss your cheek. 
"Yeah," you nod. 
He wishes you good luck, offering you a goodbye kiss before you're pulling your hood up over your head and bounding through the downpour to the front door. Your mother is pulling it open before you've even stepped onto the welcome mat. 
"Quick, quick, come on," she hastens you with a hand around your shoulders, guiding you inside and out of the pouring rain. You catch her look back at Joel pulling out of the driveway before she's closing the door behind you both. 
"Oh, shoot, look at you," she tuts, prodding at the wet fabric of your hoodie. "Let me get you something else to wear–"
"It's fine, mom," you insist before she can go pulling you something hideous from her closet. You pull your damp sweater up over your head so you're in just your t-shirt, noting that hardly any of the rainwater had managed to leak through. "This is fine, see?"
"Alright," she smiles, sort of shyly. You've been apart so long, and it normally doesn't feel so weird falling back into that mother-daughter routine. Extenuating circumstances, you suppose. She glances down at the hoodie in your arms.
"Do you want to hang it up in the bathroom and let it dry? I'll get some coffee going."
You return her smile as best you can. It certainly sounds like she's trying. It certainly sounds like something a mother would say. 
"Yeah, sure," you nod, already skirting around her to your way down the front hall. "Thanks."
You vaguely hear her hum something in response as she makes her way to the kitchen. 
The main-floor bathroom is just down the hall, a renovation project that's been half-in-the-works for years, basically abandoned now that your parents almost exclusively use their en suite. Maybe they'd have finished it by now if you still lived here.
You flip the light on to find it looks much the same as it did the last time you were here; tiles partially laid, sink without a hot water knob. You carefully drape your hoodie up on the shower curtain rod still noticeably lacking a shower curtain.
You're flattening out the sleeves when you hear the doorbell chime. 
Having grown up here, you respond instinctively to the familiar melody, poking your head out of the bathroom just in time to see your mother beat you to the door. She swings it open, and there on the front porch, soaked from his head to his shoulders, is Joel. 
Your heart just about stops.
"Oh," your mother greets him, uncertainly looking back over her shoulder to where you're standing wide-eyed in the hallway. 
"'Lo, ma'am,” Joel says. From here, you can barely hear him over the rain outside. "I don't mean to intrude. Just wanted to leave this."
You frown as he holds something out to your mother, something you can't see from this angle.  
"Oh," she says again, sounding theatrically surprised. You roll your eyes. 
"She left it in the truck. Just thought she might need it. That's all. I'll get outta your hair now."
He catches your eye over her shoulder then, quickly shooting you a sweet, heart-breaking smirk that makes your chest swell. 
"Thank you, Joel," your mother says. "I'll, uh, make sure she gets it."
He smiles at her politely and offers her a parting wave, taking off at the same time she begins to close the door after him.
"What is it? What was that?" you ask, hurriedly emerging from the hallway to meet her in the entryway. 
"Your umbrella," she tells you, hanging it up on a coat hook. "That was nice of him."
She says it absentmindedly as she makes her back to the kitchen, this time with you in tow. 
Huh.
"Well, he's a really nice man," you say simply, leaning your elbows on the island while she tends to the coffee pot. 
"Hm," she nods.
She busies herself, deep in thought in a way that makes you uneasy. 
"What?" you press her.
She pours you a mug of coffee, preparing it just how you like with cream and sugar–the same way you've taken it for years. She hands it to you over the countertop, brows still furrowed together in apparent confusion. 
"He drove you here?"
You frown. "Yes?"
"Kind of a far drive in the rain."
"So?"
She ignores you.
"What's he doing while you're here?"
You're struggling to follow her train of thought. But you think maybe you know what she's getting at. Why she can't understand Joel doing something so selfless, why she probably can't seem to understand you and Joel at all.
The thing about your mother is that there always needs to be something in it for her. Every favour, every helping hand; it can never be truly inconvenient for her, and it must always somehow benefit her in return. You know of people out there with mothers who are truly selfless, mothers who are there for them, mothers who would drop everything at a moment's notice if their children so much as asked.
But that is not your mother. That has never been your mother.
You'd forgiven her for that long ago, convinced yourself it had just made you that much more independent, that much more self-reliant. And it did, but at a cost. That cost being someone in your life you could always safely count on, someone you could always trust to be there when you needed them.
Someone who would drive you in the pouring rain to a house he could not enter, just so he could wait for you outside and bring you home when you were ready. 
"I don't know," you tell her honestly. "He just said he'd stay close by and that he'd pick me up when we're done."
She's still frowning, seemingly perplexed at the notion. "He's just waiting out there in his truck?"
You shrug. "I told you, mom. He's a really nice man."
"Hm," she says again, staring down at her coffee and taking a long, contemplative sip. "I guess he is."
You grin. It's not much. It's hardly anything at all, really. But it's a start. A seed you're more than willing to water in the hopes that eventually, maybe, she'll come around.
-
A/N CONT'D: thank you for reading! and now...a special sneak peek of the upcoming summer season. continue reading for the first 500 words of the next and final chapter of your summer dream. i love you all.
chapter vibes:
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Sometimes life really feels like a dream. 
Even in the monotony, even in the mundane. The morning commutes and the tins of cat food, the Sunday afternoons spent cleaning and the Tuesday nights spent falling asleep on the couch. And it's funny, how just like a dream, you move through the days as though time means nothing at all, everything blurring together until all at once, a year has passed. 
Summer blooms, softens and warms you from the inside out. The fan beside the bed blows cool air against your clammy skin, but is no match for the heat between your legs, the overwhelming sensation of Joel's mouth fused wetly over your cunt. 
He drinks you down like you're his morning coffee, ravenous and greedy as he hooks your legs over his shoulders and snakes his arms around your thighs. But he is in no rush, languid in the way he makes out with your pussy, whimpering and groaning at every soft, needy moan he manages to draw from you. 
But then you claw at his scalp, tug on those gorgeous greying curls and whine. Joel smirks.
"Impatient," he mutters. 
He's been lapping lazily at your cunt for the better part of twenty minutes now. You are not impatient. Luckily, as you've come to discover, Joel will never tell you no unless you ask him to. 
"S'alright," he whispers, barely letting his lips leave you as he sinks two thick fingers into your core. You keen at the welcome stretch, and Joel purrs between your thighs. "Yeah, there she is. There's my fuckin' girl. You want me to make this little pussy come? Never can just wait, can ya?"
"Waited–long enough," you groan weakly as he nudges at that perfect spot inside you. "Please. I've been good."
You feel him smile again before he's pressing a chaste little kiss to your clit, his moustache tickling your skin.
"Yeah, you have," he breathes, and then he gets to work. 
His tongue moves in tandem with his fingers, expertly finding a familiar rhythm he knows like the back of his hand by now. In no time at all, warmth pools down your spine and settles in your tummy, courses rapidly through your veins and tenses all your muscles. You come with dazzling force, grinding your clit onto his willing tongue with that insistent fist still tangled in this hair. Joel loves that. 
In these moments, the dream comes alive. The mundanity of every-day life splits open and you realize, there is in fact nothing monotonous about this life at all. How could there be? Joel is here–Joel is still here. A year since you first shook his hand in an airport parking lot, a year in which it feels as though everything changed; through it all, Joel remains. Like a tulip in soil, perennial.
"Wanna take you away somewhere," he rasps as he climbs up your body to kiss and nip at the side of your face. "What do you think? Wanna come away with me?"
You're not sure if he means forever or a day.
"Yes, please," you tell him either way. 
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Text
- just don’t want your friends to see -
prompt: “said you needed me, wanted to be with me, just don’t want your friends to see”
pairing: lando norris x reader
summary: the pressure of keeping the relationship a secret is getting to you both. is he ashamed of you? (everyone needs a little soft and reassuring lando in their lives every now and then)
a/n: can be considered a lil’ part two to told her you were just a friend. lyrics from ‘you to you’ by maisie peters :)
masterlist | the spotify wrapped collection
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“hey, you guys, hope you haven’t been waiting long!”
your head turned to follow the sound of the voice, seeing max and his girlfriend pietra approaching, a few minutes late for lunch. you noticed lando doing the same, his fingers immediately disentangling from your own as soon as he spotted them, your hand feeling empty without his clasped around it as he took a step away from you. you knew you should be used to it by now, you’d both agreed that this was for the best, keeping your relationship in the shadows, locked behind closed doors. I want this relationship to be just ours, he’d said. it had sounded nice at the time, poetic, even, and you’d agreed, maybe a little too eagerly. but as you sat at lunch with max and pietra, perched awkwardly on the edge of your seat so as not to seem too close to lando, listening to him laugh off questions about his romantic life and saying he hadn’t really met anyone special yet - you had to admit that it stung. it stung the same way it did every time, and you found yourself unnaturally quiet throughout the meal, eyes flicking between person to person as the conversation continued around you.
if you’d thought it had gone unnoticed by lando, you thought wrong.
“baby, everything okay?”
even the pet name stung, the façade of ‘friendship’ falling by the wayside as soon as you made it back to lando’s apartment. just the two of you, a safe space, away from prying eyes and listening ears. you could be in a relationship again, having put it on pause for the time you were out in public.
you looked up, trying to plaster a fake smile across your face, the expression faltering slightly at the edges.
“yeah, fine. just tired, that’s all.” came your reply. but lando wasn’t stupid, and he wasn’t blind, either. you tried to escape through to the kitchen, but he wasn’t having any of that.
“y/n, I know you. I can tell you’re not fine. talk to me, please.”
the gentleness of his voice coaxed you to be honest, letting out a sigh as you turned to lean against the kitchen counter, facing him. you couldn’t quite meet his eyes, almost embarrassed. you’d both agreed on this - why were you suddenly feeling so upset about it all? you knew lando loved you, appreciated you, but something about the way he acted when the two of you were out in public, around colleagues, around friends, even, that just got to you.
“are you embarrassed of me?”
the words left your mouth before filtering through your brain first, and you regretted them immediately; the way lando’s face fell, pain and guilt etched across his features - you swore you would never forget it, and you never wanted to see it again.
“no, no. fuck, y/n, I could never be embarrassed of you.” his voice was strained as he took several paces towards you across the kitchen, casting a cautious gaze over you as he tried to decide whether to give you space or comfort. you felt emotions bubble up inside you, ones you’d been trying to keep hidden for months, for the sake of your relationship. you’d always worried that if you caused a fuss or spoke about your emotions in any way, it would push lando away. why would he want someone who was such a problem when he could have pretty much anyone he wanted? it was irrational and you knew it, but keeping it inside for so long, unable to talk to anyone about it…? well, it had festered in your mind until it had taken over.
“I just feel like that’s why you don’t wanna tell your friends about me…” you eventually said, voice coming out as more of a whimper than you’d intended. lando closed the remaining space between you, hesitating for split second before taking your hands in his, his eyes searching yours imploringly.
“baby, I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you feel like that.” his voice was firm, filled with conviction and sincerity, but also tinged with a hint of emotion, upset that he’d ever hurt the person in his life that he cared the most about, “I swear, I never meant to. I’m so sorry.”
“it’s just difficult.” you murmured in reply, relishing the feeling of your hands being in his once again as you dropped your gaze down to look at them. “I feel like I’m always acting in public, like I can’t relax. and I can’t even talk to anyone about it.”
“I wish you’d talk to me.” lando’s voice was equally as quiet as yours, his tone so genuine that you couldn’t help but relax just a little, fears of pushing him away by being too honest dissipating by the second. he reached a hand up to cup your cheek, and it was only when he brushed a thumb across your skin to wipe away a tear that you realised you’d started crying.
“really?” you blinked up at him with wide, watery eyes. “I thought you wouldn’t wanna hear about it.”
he took your face in both hands, eyebrows curved up into a soft frown. “why would you think that? is it… is it something I said? something I did?” you could tell he meant it genuinely, but it made you realise just how irrational you were being. nothing lando had ever said or done had given you any indication that he wouldn’t want to hear your thoughts, your concerns, the things that made you upset. you were still navigating things, but you were beginning to realise that this was someone who you could really open up to. someone who cared about you. you shook your head, brushing away your own tears with the palm of your hand, letting out a wet chuckle.
“no, no. you didn’t do anything wrong. I was just being stupid.” you admitted, but now it was lando’s turn to shake his head.
“you weren’t being stupid.” he murmured, dropping his hands from your face and instead wrapping them around your waist, drawing you into his chest as he placed delicate kisses to the top of your head. “nothing you feel is stupid. it’s not easy keeping us a secret, trust me, I know.” he sighed, resting his chin on your head as he held you close. “I’m not embarrassed of you, y/n, I’m just trying to protect you. people… they can be pretty crazy when it comes to people I date. I just wanna keep you away from that just a little longer.”
you nodded into his chest. deep down, you knew that. you just needed to hear it from him. you let out a soft, contented sigh, the sound mirrored by lando as he tightened his grip round you just a little. he didn’t want to lose you, especially not over something like this, a fact he told his mum on the phone later that night as he finally told her all about you.
the final part is out now :)
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painism · 2 days
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FREAK LIKE ME !
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you want a good ** who does bad things to you !
content . submissive ! jujutsu kaisen ! sub choso drabble, begging, praise kink, implied orgasm hanjobs, edging, pre-cum, delayed orgasms, crying, "baby" used to refer to reader, no pronouns used not proofread. etc etc ! please let me know if pronouns are used ! will be fixed immediately, gn reader, not proofread, messy.
masterlist | gojo ver . geto ver . " request other versions in my inbox ! | reblogs appreciated and encouraged !
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CHOSO KAMO
“please…” he mumbles, his head thrown back as the humidity of the room sticks to him, the same way your hand had been stuck to his cock, pumping with slow lazy strokes to his leaky cock, stripping away his suddenly thin patience as he lets out a strangled moan, the hairs on the back of his neck sticking up tall, similar to his dick when you pull your hand away from him. “please what cho? use your words” you mumble, a smirk tugging at your lips at the whimpering mumbling mess you called your boyfriend. “hng… please let me cum baby…”
a moan follows his futile plea “you need it baby?” you question your strokes abruptly speeding up, the smell of flesh on flesh illuminating through, causing the rooms scent to differ as choso whines “yes ‘s bad please” through breathy moans. his vein far-more prominent on his forehead than before, his flush cheeks and his pink leaky tip. his body buckling as your finger , swipes delicately over his sensitive tip dripping with little dabbles of cum, the cum clinging to your finger as choso heaves and twitches. "yeah? do you deserve it?" you mumble, your chest flush with his back, a hand held over this dick, and the other holding his hip down from behind, keeping him from bucking up into your touch. "p-please, I've been good.." he whines, his head in the crook of your neck as you feel his warm tears soak onto the skin on your neck. "my good boy cho'." his hips thrust into your hand at the name, your pressure on his hip strengthening as you grip harder at his hip, hand resting where his v-line meets his thigh, and suddenly, your hand comes to a hault, slowing down while he lets out pathetic whimpers, mindlessly babbling "ngh-- i deserve it.. please 'lemme cum!"
"soon cho', just beg real nicely one last time."
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© PAINISM / SAELESTIA 2024. do not repost, translate, or duplicate any of my works here or any other websites.
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leqonsluv3r · 1 day
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hello! i was just wondering if you could write fluffy hc’s or a one-shot about oc / reader telling re4 leon about getting creeped on in public and him being comforting / however else you think he’d react. it’s something i’ve experienced multiple times and ig i’m just looking for some comfort after a recent encounter. i hope you’re having a great day n i appreciate your writing a lot <3
safe with me
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—re!4 leon kennedy x reader, a headcanon list
masterlist taglist
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leon!kennedy who has been dating you for a couple years and is very protective of you. it’s very normal considering his job. but the second you tell him that your always being watched in public, he gets even more protective like a guard dog.
leon!kennedy who accompanies you out in public because of how much he feels the need to protect you. he’s watching over his shoulder and standing less then five feet from you everytime you go out with him. kind of like a guard dog, but a less overbearing one. bite now and ask questions later.
leon!kennedy who drives you to and from work even on his days off, just so you don’t have to walk from your shared apartment to your job down the street. you could easily walk it, but considering that your getting creeped on in public, leon is protecting you and it makes sense.
leon!kennedy who buys you pepper spray and a taser, teaching you how to use them. it’s just incase, just for emergencies and he hopes you never have to use them. but if he’s gone on a mission, he gave you those things to protect you when he can’t.
leon!kennedy who practically smothers you in kisses when your upset and uncomfortable with the way people (more specifically other men) creep on you in public, catcall you. he knows how uncomfortable that makes you feel. trying his best to soothe the ache somehow.
leon!kennedy who about tears someone a new asshole for even looking at you at the grocery store, five seconds then what’s considered normal. yelling at him and practically dragging the poor man out of the store by his collar like a rabid dog.
leon!kennedy who handles you with such care and such precision that he’s afraid he’ll break you. he knows how tough it is for any person in this world, how unsafe it is. his job and you constantly getting peeped on in public just proves that. he holds you close at night, cuddles and kisses. he keeps you close, his biggest fear besides dying is losing you. it would simply be just unbearable without you.
leon!kennedy who makes sure your comfortable whenever you guys have sex, never pressuring you. he needs you to know he’s not like other guys, not like other people. so he’s soft and gentle until you tell him otherwise.
leon!kennedy who lets you squeeze his hand when you two go out in public, one squeeze for your fine and two squeezes for your uncomfortable. or someone’s peeping at you, looking at you in a way that makes your skin crawl.
leon!kennedy who lets you share your location with him just so he has an idea of where you’re at incase of an emergency. he’s not being overbearing, he just needs to know your safe, and you don’t object to that in the slightest.
leon!kennedy who sandwiches himself in between you and a guy at the bar who keeps eyeing you, like your a piece of meat. like your not a human person with feelings. he just rests a hand on your lower back and rubs soothing circles to ease the obvious tension in your face and body.
leon!kennedy who practically punches the guy for flirting with you and making you uncomfortable right in front of him. the stranger is oblivious to the fact that you are so obviously there with leon. it makes his blood boil, your back tenses underneath his touch on your lower back.
leon!kennedy who punches the guy in the face, “i bet your fun and easy in bed.” one of the many disgusting things said but leon takes care of it for you, punching him without hesitation as the man falls back off the stool and lands on the floor of the bar. those words are all it took for leon to take the punch, take him out. because your not a piece of meat, your a person. a person that he loves and would do anything for.
leon!kennedy who drives you home to your guys shared apartment and holds your hand on the console, comforting you and making sure that you were okay. because no one deserves to be treated like that, especially you.
leon!kennedy who ices his knuckles with a bag of peas from the freezer when you guys get home. letting you just cuddle up next to him on the couch. he holds you with his uninjured hand and presses a kiss to your head, “it’ll be alright, it’s okay.” and “i’ll protect you.”
leon!kennedy who vows to himself and to you that he will always do right by you, even if he makes some questionable choices in doing it. as long as your safe and with him, that’s all that matters. he loves you more then anything and people should know that he doesn’t like the people he loves being messed with. especially you.
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an: im sorry this took me so long, anon. i’ve been backed up with requests (and i still am 😭) but i live for the protective boyfriend. i just imagine leon being like a protective guard dog considering all the shit he has to deal with. but i hope this met ur expectations <33 anyways, i love you all. thank you for getting me to 700 again :,) u guys are bizarre for that. pls reblog, like and follow if you enjoy. kisses, xx.
taglist: @elihii @heartsforvin @argreion @sqiim @adollrable @leonkennedygvrl (my taglist is linked above at the beginning if you would like to join <33)
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sidekick-hero · 1 day
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the unparalleled and precious @flowercrowngods tagged me to post some lines of an unpublished wip with no context
The sound of someone inserting their key card into the slot is followed by the handle being pushed down. Then the door to the room opens, revealing the lucky guy who will have him for the next two hours.
He’s pretty, is the first thing that comes to Steve’s mind. Tall and slender, with a small waist and very nice arms decorated in black ink. Most stunning, however, is his face. The pale skin a tantalizing contrast to his pink lips, dark hair framing high cheekbones and deep brown eyes that look at him like a deer in the headlights.
Then, the door closes with a bang.
“Guys? There’s some dude sitting on my bed, you might wanna call security. I’ll hold down the door but you gotta hurry.” Eddie’s voice trembles slightly and Steve’s torn between worry and amusement.
Faintly he can hear the other men laughing and Eddie's indignant squeak. "What the hell are you laughing at? There`s a crazy stalker in my room! Probably armed and dangerous!"
"Oh yeah, I bet he has a big gun," Garrett/Gareth snorts, and Steve rolls his eyes at the very obvious, very bad joke. The guy probably thinks he's really funny.
Eddie seems to agree with Steve, even if unknowingly. "Har-bloody-har. Jeff, c'mon, tell me you at least take this seriously!"
This is one of those nights when Steve wishes he was smart enough, or at least ambitious enough to go to college, so he wouldn't have to make money on the side dealing with shit like this. At least most of his clients were easier to deal with, if not as easy on the eyes as this Eddie.
"Eddie, trust me, you can open the door. He's harmless."
"How do you know?"
"Because he's your birthday present!" Freak interrupts, clearly losing patience. "Gareth's right, we should have just made him put a bow on his dick and be done with it. At least then we wouldn't be standing here arguing."
Steve wonders if they know he can hear every word they say. Like everyone else in the surrounding rooms, because they're not exactly quiet. He just hopes nobody calls the cops.
"He's... What the fuck? You can't just give someone a person, that's human trafficking!"
Obviously tired of making a scene outside a hotel room, Jeff just opens the door and pulls Eddie inside, trusting the others to follow. They do, closing the door behind them, and then they all look at Steve, who is still sitting on the bed, regretting all his life choices that led him here.
He gives a little wave with his fingers. "Surprise."
Eddie blinks at him, speechless, his mouth slightly ajar. Despite the situation, he remains unfairly attractive, his wide eyes stirring something in Steve that he hesitates to explore further. Steve's knowledge of Eddie is limited to his questionable choice of friends, yet he feels an inexplicable urge to shield him from the world, to keep him safe. The urge is unexpected in itself, but even more so in the intensity with which it hits him.
"This is Steve," Gareth introduces, stumbling over his words. "And, uh, well, he... yeah. Guys?" Gareth glances around, hoping for support from the others, but they remain silent. Steve rises from his spot on the bed and approaches Eddie.
As he stands before him, Steve is enveloped in a mixture of clean body spray, shampoo, and a faint whiff of cigarette smoke. Eddie's eyes, even larger up close, hold a warm hue that is captivating. Steve flashes a smile, aiming for a blend of reassurance and flirtation.
"I'm Steve, and for the next two hours, I can be whatever you need," he declares, though technically, twenty minutes have already elapsed. Nevertheless, for Eddie, Steve is willing to make an exception.
tagging with no pressure, only appreciation: @starryeyedjanai, @thefreakandthehair, @hbyrde36, @runninriot, @just-my-latest-hyperfixation, @steddieas-shegoes
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I was tagged by the lovely @sidekick-hero to share a few lines from a WIP without context. Thank you, friend! 💖
“Chrissy was here, I see,” Eddie comments, inspecting the bouquet of flowers on the table. 
Steve nods. “You just missed her. Robin and her went to look at some herbs, I think?” 
“Did they now?” Eddie turns away from the flowers to shoot him a knowing grin. “How many times did Robin trip over her own feet?” 
Steve can’t help it, he grins back. “Erm, only once, actually. I caught her.” 
“Oh, that’s progress, good for her,” Eddie nods appreciatively, then cups a hand to his face to lean towards him for a conspiratorial stage whisper. “She doesn’t like it when I say it, but she does suck at flirting.” 
“Yeah, well,” Steve shrugs. “She’s not the one going around trying to smooch strangers.” 
Eddie flinches. Steve winces. Shit, there goes his smart mouth again. 
“Fuck, sorry,” he blurts, averting his gaze, fingers twisting into the frilly hems of his shirt sleeves. “I didn’t mean-” 
“No, no, you’re right.” 
Steve feels his mouth drop open. When he whips his head up, Eddie isn’t looking at him. Instead, he’s laboriously pulling out a chair from under the table so that he can sit opposite Steve on his chest, at a healthy distance. Steve watches how he pulls his hands into his lap, twisting one of his rings on his finger, brow furrowed in thought. 
“So,” he says at length, gritting the word out like it’s physical effort. “It, um … It has been brought to my attention that my behavior today may have come off as rude and overbearing, and that I need to make more of an effort to restrain myself, lest I frighten you away, seeing how you’re in a highly unusual and confusing situation already and will need some time to adjust before-” 
“Did your uncle say that?” Steve remembers, suddenly, how Wayne excused himself as soon as they left El’s cabin, citing some important business he still had to attend to. He’s beginning to suspect what it was. 
Eddie licks his lips. 
“Doesn’t matter who said it,” he deflects, and Steve feels his mouth curl into a smug little grin. “Point is, he’s right, the old fucker. He’s right most of the time. So, I just … I wanted to apologize, I guess. I’ll try to not let it happen again.” 
“Try?” Steve parrots. “As in, you’ll try not to kiss me again, but it might just happen accidentally? Like a hiccup, or what?”  Eddie cringes, fingers reaching up to play with the gemstone necklace again.
“It’s hard, alright?” he mutters. “I’ve been waiting for you a long time, and nobody prepared me for how very kissable you’d be.”
Tagging: @sourw0lfs @wynnyfryd @wormdebut @cranberrymoons - no pressure, just kisses. 💋
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akutasoda · 13 hours
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hii :3 for ur 1k event, can I request a fic or hcs of sunday w a shy s/o which likes physical affection a LOT? fine w fluff or hurt/comfort!! love ur writing <3
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feather light touches
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synopsis - what happens when someone who loves physical affection meets someone who doesn't?
includes - sunday
warnings - gn!reader, slightly angsty, comfort, fluff, wc - 897
a/n: hii :3 thank you!!!
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sunday was a public figure. head of the oak family and at the will of the watchmaker, anybody who had even heard of penacony probably had heard of him. while he did manage most of the affairs of penaconians in his office, he was a well known face - mainly due to him making sure he could accompany his sister to her performances and personally greeting very important guests.
to maintain such a high profile position, sunday had no room to be shy nor anxious when it came to anything. he needed the ability to communicate with and sway anyone to his whims and so he needed to show no signs of weakness. perhaps it was maybe helped by the fact that he did have quite the desperation for control and so to achieve that, he needed everybody to see him as the confident and formidable person he was.
as a result, alot of his relationships were strictly business - in a way every business relation he built up was built up to his benefit, to keep him in control and eventually elevate his status. he needed to be in control to succeed and so he never took up opportunities that made him feel like his control would diminish and leave him scrambling for his power. by extention, sunday wasn't exactly the kind to enjoy physical affection, if anything he despised it. of course there were exceptions to a degree, namely his sister and you.
you were like a complete polar opposite to sunday. he was confident and an influential figure that liked keeping people at arms length, even those he was close too. you were a shy and reserved person who craved nothing more than to be close to those you held dearly. physical affection was very dear to you but unfortunately the shyness was an obstacle that prevented most forms of physical affection - unlike sunday who would take any opportunity to stay away from any kind of physical contact.
sunday didn't mind how shy you were, it didn't really matter to him as he enjoyed your company nonetheless. he didn't mind doing things for you and so if your shyness did prevent you from talking to people he'd gladly step in. your shyness was actually a great comfort to him at the end of a day filled with business dealings, just to spend his evening with you indulging in smalltalk and relaxing without the pressure of being the head of the oak family.
it wouldn't take sunday long to notice how hesitant you could get in private, you always looked like you wanted something but you never said anything and so he didn't know what to do. if something was bothering you, you probably would have told him know no? truth be told, your issue wasn't so much your shyness when it came to physical affection but more with how unsure you were with sunday's willingness to just that.
you knew for a matter of fact that physical touch and affection wasn't exactly sunday's deal, so you're shyness was overcome with worries that he wouldn't understand your love for physical affection. you started fearing that this would be the reason you couldn't stay with sunday, that this would be the breaking point of your relationship. what made it worse was that you never brought it up. you were way to shy about it to bring it up and so you say on the issue.
that was until sunday started picking up more ideas to what was causing your hesitation around him. he noticed how a simple act of hand holding made your face light up even if you didn't mention anything, so unconsciously he started doing that more. sunday realised you were very fond of physical affection and maybe you were just hesitant that he wouldn't appreciate it.
it was true that he was uncomfortable with most kinds of physical affection but maybe he could try and make an exception for you - he really couldn't bare seeing you so pained because you couldn't ask him. simple acts like hand holding, that still made you light up, were bearable with him to start as long as he still wore his gloves but you didn't seem to mind. maybe just maybe he could atart building up his tolerance just for you.
or maybe he couldn't deny you when he realised you built up all your courage just to ask him for a hug. sunday fully understood now, he knew for sure that you lived physical affection but you were simply too shy to ask for such. albeit he probably didn't help you by seeming so off put by physical affection but he just had to prove to you that you were indeed an exception - so long as you still let him get used to more physical contact.
it all seemed worth it in the end to him. seeing your face light up when he offered a hug, a small kiss, or even hand holding made his day, what really made it worth it for him was seeing you becime more comfortable with asking for the physical affection you lived oh so much. it may be foreign and slightly uncomfortable to him but he'd be willing to build up that aspect if it meant helping you in the process.
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akutasoda's 1k event
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curiosity
jake jensen x fem reader
words: 1.3k
warnings: **18+ ONLY** smut, oral (m and f receiving), anal fingering (m receiving), prostate milking, a little overstimulation. let me know if i've missed anything!
a/n: idgaf this is purely self-indulgent. perhaps it reveals more about me than i care for but idc!!!!!! let me live!! (thanks and sorry to @brandycranby for inadvertently helping me with this lolol) not proofread in the slightest, so any and all mistakes are my own. feedback is encouraged and appreciated :)
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It starts with your curiosity.
You've had moments of wondering with past partners, about whether or not they'd be into it, but you never acted on that curiosity before. You never felt like you could, like you'd be safe to explore something new sexually with those people.
But with Jake… Jake makes you feel the safest you've ever felt in a relationship. You're still a bit shy, unsure of how to ask how he'd feel about it, because what you're wanting to do might be too much for him. At the same time, you know he'd never make you feel bad for asking.
So, when it happens, you don't actually verbally say anything.
You've got Jake sitting on the edge of your bed, with you on your knees between his, mouthing wetly at his hard cock. He’s making soft sounds above you, one hand propped behind him holding himself up while his other hand is holding your hair away from your face.
When you look up at him through your lashes, sucking on the tip of his cock, he bites his lip and tips his head back with a sigh. Slowly, you begin to take more of him into your mouth, bobbing your head and adding suction on the way up. You see his abs clench as he grunts when you dip your tongue into his slit. You trail your hands everywhere; you slide them up his thighs, across his hips, to his pecs to thumb over his nipples.
“Fuck,” he breathes, whispering your name reverently as you suck him harder.
You hum around him and he curses again, dropping to his elbow, hips shifting minutely upward into your mouth. Meeting his heavy-lidded gaze again, you cup his balls, softly applying pressure to them. He groans deep in his chest and falls completely on his back, legs spreading wider. It feels like the perfect opportunity.
Keeping your eyes on him, on how he's breathing heavier and squeezing his eyes shut, you let your fingers wander down to his taint, waiting for his reaction. All he does is let out a rumbling noise, so you bob your head a little faster and shift your fingers lower, to his crack. Cautiously, you press in to pet over his hole.
His eyes fly open then, glancing down at you with blown pupils and lips bitten red, cheeks much pinker than they were just a second ago.
“What–What are you doing?” he asks, voice gruff.
You lazily pull off his cock, swirling your tongue the whole way and making his lashes flutter, a moan punching out of him when you let go of him with an obscene pop. “I'm just curious,” you confess quietly, looking up at him innocently, stroking him at a leisurely pace.
He swallows roughly as he continues holding your stare. Your heart is racing, wondering if you've gone too far, if you've ruined everything.
“Okay,” he says, after a lengthy pause.
You sit up a little taller. “Really?” you ask, trying and failing to keep your eagerness out of your tone.
He nods jerkily. “Yeah, we can—you can try.”
You smile so wide your cheeks bunch up. It makes Jake huff a small laugh, some tension leaving him.
“Do you need, like…” He flushes again and waves his hand vaguely. “Lube?”
You feel warmth rush up to your own face, contemplating, but then you reach between your thighs to where you're throbbing and dripping. He sees your shoulder moving as you coat your fingers with your slick and mutters a heartfelt fuck under his breath.
“No,” you purr. “I’ve got it covered.”
You moan when you slip two of your fingers in your cunt to make sure they're as wet as they can be. Jake’s breathing picks up, watching your every move. He rises to his elbows again after you remove your fingers and bring them back to his hole, rubbing gentle circles around his rim. You can tell he's nervous, but he doesn't tell you to stop, so you unhurriedly begin to slip one finger inside him.
His brows furrow, lips parting as he exhales shakily at the new sensation. In case he's experiencing any discomfort, you take his cock back into your mouth, an act he vocally appreciates with a drawn out whine. As you’re sliding up and down the length of him, you carefully start thrusting your finger in and out of his hole. Jake lets out a noise you've never heard him make before.
“Shit,” he hisses, grunting and clenching his jaw.
You curl your finger, searching. When Jake jerks, moaning in surprise and shock, you know you've found his prostate and you hum, rubbing at that spot more.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants, gritting his teeth and panting, his flush spreading down to his chest.
You keep pressure on his prostate while you suck him faster, your own need skyrocketing, wanting to see Jake come apart from your mouth and hands. He’s letting out nonstop moans and whines, hips kicking up, his hands flailing as he searches for purchase somewhere, anywhere. You can tell he's close, and after a second of contemplation, you pull your finger out and slowly press back in with two.
Jake shouts, thrusting hard into your mouth and half-heartedly apologizing, jaw going slack and eyes rolling back into his head when you rub insistently at his prostate. His thighs shake on either side of you, his stomach clenching and unclenching.
He’s fucking stunning.
“I–I think I’m—fuck—I’m coming,” he stutters, voice high and breathy and needy.
You reach up with your free hand to cup his balls again and he sobs, curling upward and gripping your hair harshly as his breath hitches in his throat. With a ragged groan, he comes, body jerking while you milk his cock and prostate. You moan as you swallow around him, squeezing your thighs together to try and appease the aching throb between them.
Letting out a sharp exhale, he drops onto his back. His legs, hips, and arms twitch uncontrollably as you work him through his orgasm, until he finally whimpers from oversensitivity. You pull off of him, kissing his tip as you remove your fingers from his hole.
“C’mere,” he instructs, urging you up on the bed with him.
He directs you to sit above his mouth, and before you lower yourself you take his glasses off and place them on the mattress next to you. Impatient, he yanks you down, sucking at your clit straight away and making you cry out, holding on to his hair. He uses his hands on your hips to guide you in a dirty grind, letting you ride his tongue.
“Jakey,” you whine, following his lead, watching him below you.
His eyes are blazing, eating you out enthusiastically. You're already so close and it doesn't take long for you to come, his tongue fucking into you and nose stimulating your clit from the messy way you're grinding down on his face. Your climax leaves you trembling, thighs shaky as you try to lift off of him and collapse beside him. Jake follows, swiping his tongue across your pussy, making you jerk and whimper weakly pushing at his head because you can't tell if you want to let him keep going or to stop.
When he manhandles you flat on your back and pushes your legs apart as far as they can go, his hands under your knees, the decision is made for you.
By the time he's done with you, his mouth and chin are shining with your wetness and you're pretty sure you've seen god. He kisses his way up your torso, dipping his tongue in your bellybutton and grinning at the way you writhe away from the ticklish feeling, places gentle kisses to your breasts, and finally kisses and licks up your neck to your mouth. You make out with him for a long while, until your taste is gone from his tongue and your jaw is sore.
All in all, you'd say your curiosity has paid off this time. You wonder what else you can get him to try…
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lyss-sketchbox · 1 day
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Honestly I'm afraid for Wrio if he and Arelechino talk it out. Remember during the archon quest with Freminet and Lynette? I don't think she'll appreciate how he treated her children.
But also YOUR BRAIN THO!!!
Im fully aware wrio doesnt like her. I mean even from a general perspective, sending children to fight your fights because you know the enemy wont kill children isnt really a good look. Especially knowing wrio himself is a victim of child trafficking.
But i would still like them to talk, i feel like they wouldve been atleast understanding of each other in another universe (coughHOYOFAIRcough)
There would be alot of charged dialogues and jabs, they wouldnt fight each other knowing how much political pawns they have on each other.
Arlecchino would definitely lean on 'you hurt my children' and 'you lost Tartaglia' if wrio ever tries anything. But they would both now that shes only saying that shit to look sympathetic, she sent those children to his fortress to SPY and STEAL information, not to mention Wrio purged the fortress of most if not all the fatui operatives there, who knows how many charges he has against the fatui at that point but yeah its not like he can directly put pressure on the Knave of all people since all he's offering is the crimes of pawns, while she can hold up Tartaglia over him.
Still HOW CAN YOU NOT LOOK AT ARLECCHINO AND SEE SHE HAS SIMILAR PASTS WITH WRIO. EXCEPT SHE WAS TAUGHT TO BE A MURDERER WHILE WRIO WAS TAUGHT TO BE CATTLE
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batsplat · 3 days
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Chad reed on always the entourages creating the drama. I cannot believe that is what caused rosquez downfall but also given the level of Vale's celebrity and the way he carried himself, I can totally believe that it was the entourage (iPad stand I'm looking at you) that brought the end
(about reed's 2020 quotes in this) yeahhh I mean the downfall was caused by a whole bunch of factors, not just any one thing... like all great tragic narratives, it feels inevitable from a global perspective and yet thoroughly preventable in its specifics, with loads of points where you think, 'oh, if things had just gone a little bit differently'... there's this tension in how, in the end, maybe it would've always gone wrong, but a lot had to come together for it to go wrong in quite such a spectacular fashion
reed's definitely correctly identified one of the factors - the entourages, and valentino's entourage specifically. though fwiw, I did cut off the article before reed predicted the marc/fabio rivalry was headed a similar way (this was from 2020, obviously before the arm injury):
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for better or for worse, fabio has skipped the villain arc to head straight to the depressed frenchie arc
regardless of whether this rift would have happened or not, the idea that marc would have gotten a new appreciation for the situation valentino found himself in is at least an interesting one. though if anything, the rivalry with fabio would have more closely paralleled valentino's with the other aliens (new talent coming through, but with the previously dominant rider still a regular winner). now is the time marc's learning what it feels like to come back from a prolonged absence from being competitive at the highest level - and of course with a new superstar simultaneously making his debut
so yeah, anyway, tragedy, you can point to all sorts of strains and pressures and tension inherent to professional sport that were exacerbated by the personalities involved and the influence of the media and the passage of time etc etc. but never mind all that, let's get back to entourages! I know you mention everybody's favourite b-list shakespeare villain, but I'm going to basically mostly ignore him because it's well-trodden ground. yeah, it does help to have one guy who's whispering poison into your ear for a prolonged stretch of time before showing up at your motorhome doorstep with a bunch of telemetry and a dream. and yeah, there were people in valentino's entourage definitely encouraging this path to doom. but what I'm also interested in is the flip side - why nobody stopped him
I would like to submit into evidence this passage detailing the thoughts of vale's mechanic alex briggs. now briggs in this excerpt blames two groups for how things went down in 2015:
the yamaha side (specifically the press group) for not talking him down from the ledge before the presser
the crew chief and other assorted italians on the team for being too "yessy" and not standing up to him
let's briefly (for a given value of the word) focus on the first one. if you're a random yamaha pr person and you see the valentino rossi run to a press conference (given he was late) with a bunch of papers in his hands (well, he's not actually holding the papers in those gifs, but presumably somebody's got them), it's probably a tough ask to expect you to hold up the valentino rossi and ask him what exactly he's intending to do with those papers. also, is he really going to back off because you, random yamaha pr person, have asked him to please not accuse the competition of sabotage? added context is that some at yamaha were aware of what valentino thought about the race at phillip island (which we'll get to in a sec), but god knows if the pr people did. unless he confided in anyone on the yamaha side what the plan was, a lot of them would have been blindsided too - which does come back to the problem of how big a deal valentino is and how maybe you're a little more cautious about questioning what he's about to do with those papers than you would be with somebody else. it does feel like perhaps a bit too much to expect for them to have launched some last-minute intervention, or to even know what kind of intervention they could have gone for beyond low-level comedy hijinks to stop him from even getting to that room. why did nobody from yamaha place a banana skin in his path
but we do know that at least some in yamaha were aware of valentino's great big phillip island sabotage theory, because lin jarvis has very helpfully told us as much (from the post-sepang media scrum):
Q: Do you think it was a mistake for Valentino to [provoke?] Marc so much on Thursday with a very personal and hard attack? Jarvis: There are always many different ways of addressing different problems - Valentino chose to do it in that way. Perhaps that is what provoked Marc into being quite aggressive on the track. I really don't know, you need to ask Marc not me about that. Every action has a consequence. That's life. Q: And did you know before that Valentino was going to be so aggressive with Marc in the press conference? Did you know before? Did you discuss with Valentino about this decision or you didn't know until it happened? Jarvis: Personally, I was not aware of that. I was aware of Valentino's opinion of the race in Australia, but I was not aware... but I was not aware that he would - Q: Don't you think because Valentino at the end of the day is an employee of Yamaha he should discuss before with you about such an important decision, to attack a rider of another factory in such a heavy way [...]? Jarvis: You can't control every incident, everything that happens and you know, generally we have a very good [...] relation, connection with our riders, we talk to them before about things before, but anyway I think this is something Valentino felt strongly about and it was his decision and that's it.
note the use of the word "personally", which does leave the door open to others within yamaha (outside of valentino's inner circle) knowing what was going to happen. jarvis, unsurprisingly, comes down pretty firmly on the side of 'well what were we supposed to do'. given that jarvis admits he knew valentino's theory and is hardly a stranger to valentino's modus operandi - after all, he was already team boss at the time of another tense press conference in sepang eleven years prior that took place in the wake of valentino accusing a competitor of messing with him - you do have to wonder whether yamaha could not have tried a little harder to stop valentino. but again, accounting for the power of valentino's status and the power of his character, I'm personally unconvinced yamaha could've done much to convince valentino to change his mind
so then: the italians. a little bit of context - briggs started working with crew chief jerry burgess in 1994 and both of them were on mick doohan's team for all of his five 500cc titles. when doohan's injuries forced his retirement, valentino inherited his championship-winning team upon moving up to 500cc. jb was vale's very first crew chief in the premier class, and him as well as briggs have been working with vale since december 1999. understandably, this is a very tightly-knit group. it is one that made the jump to yamaha with valentino - here's just a quick excerpt (also from oxley's valentino rossi: all his races) about briggs' thoughts on that move:
When Valentino decided to defect to Yamaha, he was determined to have his crew go with him. Only one stayed at HRC. "We first got to know about the Yamaha deal in Portugal, I think [September 2003]," Briggs continues. "I wanted to stay with JB, because I hadn't finished learning what I wanted to learn. "I remember a clandestine meeting in the car park at Phillip Island, about salaries and how everything was going to work. It was really exciting. When I very first started working with Honda the whole group was very much a team. Towards the end we felt like it started to become a bit us and them: the engineers and management, then the mechanics and the riders. They'd sort of got too big for their boots - they'd designed this wonderful bike, so it was like it had nothing to do with us. That made it easier to leave.
and also about the move to yamaha, from the 2020 barker biography of valentino:
But with his trusted crew chief Jerry Burgess and most of his other team members from the Honda garage agreeing to defect with him, Rossi had the crew he needed, not only to win but also to enjoy his racing. It was a heartening display of loyalty and something of a risk for all involved. ‘When I announced to the mechanics that I was going with Valentino they said, “I’m coming too,”’ Burgess later explained. ‘Some of those guys were leaving very secure jobs and taking a big gamble.’
the group also survived the move to ducati (obviously a deeply frustrating two years not just for the guy riding the bike) and the move back to yamaha. but then, valencia 2013, valentino announced his decision to fire jb in a press conference organised for the pair of them. his 2013 season had been deeply frustrating - yes, he had gotten a podium in his first race beating both marc and dani, but after that generally speaking he couldn't come close to matching the other aliens when healthy. he was comfortably the fourth best rider that year, scrapping and clawing his way through midfield battles and having to rely on misfortunes befalling the three title contenders to achieve his podiums and his sole victory at assen. he was considering retiring at the end of the 2014 season once his current contract expired, but wanted to try everything he could to see whether he could be competitive again against the world's very best. and so, he made the decision to roll the dice and get himself a new crew chief, the italian silvano galbusera
now I have to say, personally I have a lot of time for this decision (even if it was maybe not... uh, enacted in the most graceful of manners, given how sudden it was). I come from a sports background where a certain ruthlessness in personnel decisions is encouraged and generally praised - if something isn't working, you should have the courage to make a change, even if it's deeply uncomfortable (including on an interpersonal level). also, while it was a sudden departure, it's not like burgess was that keen on sticking around much longer (again from the same oxley book):
Valentino ended his collaboration very suddenly at the end of 2013. Burgess was shocked but not too much, because he already knew that he was coming to the end of his own career. "When it ended for me I'd already been doing it 30-odd years and I'd told Valentino a few weeks earlier that I wasn't going to sign any more multi-year contracts. I was 60 by then, so I'd go year by year. I'd already signed a contract for 2014, but I would've thought if we hadn't had any more success by then that there wasn't much point in continuing. I felt we would win more races but I was more doubtful about championships. "I'd read enough sporting biographies to know that sportsmen change their coaches towards the end of their careers. It can give them a spike in results but it doesn't change the overall story. Looking back, Valentino's career went on longer than I expected. He enjoyed some success but no more championships and that's what you race for. Of course he was in the unique position of being able to get a factory bike until he retired. He was very special and deserved everything he got."
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which, look. again, personal bias, but to me it's reasonable to part ways with somebody who doesn't think any more titles are plausible, because at that point it's just somebody who has a very different view on your career than you do and may well not stick around for much longer anyway. also, at the end of the day, jb was wrong! valentino came extremely close to winning another title, and just because he didn't, doesn't change the fact he could have. if it had rained on the 8th of november 2015 in valencia, we might be having a very different conversation. (or if they hadn't changed the bloody qualifying format post-2012.) honestly, if the 2016 and to a lesser extent the 2017 season had gone just a little differently - a working bike in mugello here and an unbroken leg there - he could have been a genuine title threat in two more seasons. in any case, what it does show is that valentino even at the end of 2013 was still as determined as ever, was ready to engage in what was a huge gamble (given how almost all his success had come with the highly decorated jb) on the off chance he might find what it took to win again. this will not have been an easy decision for valentino. here's a write-up of the presser at valencia, that stresses how uncomfortable the occasion was, how surprising a decision it was to jb, but how publicly at least there was a lack of recriminations (which, to be fair, wouldn't be much fun to do in a shared presser):
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(you'll note that the phrasing in the presser about athletes attempting to extend their carrers by changing things up is echoed in what he says in that book interview where he adds that it doesn't change the overall story, again suggesting he didn't really believe valentino would be competitive. he also uses the same phrasing in ANOTHER interview that confirms as much, but I think you get the point.) valentino said at the time, "it was a very difficult decision for me because I have a great history with jeremy. he is not just my chief mechanic. he is like part of my family. my father in racing". this is somebody he'd been working with since age 21, somebody who is not only revered within the paddock for his work with several of the sport's greats but is also a man who valentino obviously has a close personal connection to. meeting for the first time when vale snuck into the honda pit to check out the bike he might ride next season, hitting it off immediately, countless rowdy dinners together, parties, jb and another older colleague sitting back when food fights started, watching valentino grow up, working with him throughout all his big manufacturer switches, all his successes and all his failures... as much as anything else, it's evidence of how strong vale's desire to win was, how determined he continued to be, to make this choice at this stage of his career. and jb was open to the idea (at least publicly) that it might end up being a smart call:
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the 'dirtiest' part of the whole affair is how it was actually carried out - it's not great form to tell your crew chief the day before you end up doing a press conference together to announce your choice. for whatever it's worth, this is how valentino justified the timeline:
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and lastly, which I think is the most key part, is valentino's belief. because at the end of the day, the only reason why he's doing any of this, and the only reason why what was to come was possible at all, is that he himself still thought that he could challenge for another title - as much as that belief had come under strain:
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now what this piece also goes on to say is that nobody believes this will work. nobody believes that firing jb will lead to better results. people expect that this is going to lead to his retirement, quite possibly at the end of 2014. it's worth just remembering sometimes how extraordinary valentino's return to the top of the game post-2013 really was, how it went against how we expect a rider's competitive lifecycle to work, went far beyond the longevity exhibited by any top rider before or since - all while going up against riders who are widely believed to be some of the best to ever do it. valentino beat jorge in both 2014 and 2016, and remains one of two people to outscore prime marc marquez over the course of a season. not to engage in too much rossi prop here, but sepang 2015 can't really be understood without all the frustration that led up to it, to this one golden chance, this miracle that everybody had believed to be impossible (sometimes even valentino). this wasn't supposed to be happening. it was happening. and then, so so close to the finish line, valentino could feel it slipping, slipping, slipping away
but of course, we still don't know whether changing crew chiefs is the key factor that made him competitive again. maybe he just needed a bit longer to get back into the swing of things post-ducati disaster. maybe the bikes just started to suit him better. hey, maybe it was that nifty exercise regime he'd engaged in a wee spot of espionage for so that he could pinch it off his teammate. what we can say, however, is that valentino's choice both tells us a lot about his mindset, as well as (to finally bring us back to the actual point of this post) representing a massive shift in his 'entourage'. this is what briggs is referring to in his quote - the italians. the new crew chief. the people who couldn't stand up to valentino. now obviously, as mentioned above briggs had worked with jb for the better part of twenty years and can hardly be considered a neutral party. here were briggs' feelings on the matter (yeah it's from the same oxley book again, I got it new for eighteen quid which is a very generous price, would recommend):
When JB was out at the end of 2013 it was like losing my mechanic dad. I remember being in the garage when we found out about it. Then they arranged a kind of farewell, a kind of hodgepodge farewell. It was terrible, I didn't like any of it. I was just hiding behind one of the bikes in the garage, crying, going, what's going on here? It didn't seem right to me. I think maybe Valentino thought he would get faster again sooner, but I think it took at least a year to get the taste of the Ducati out of his mouth. I think if he'd stayed with JB we would've won the championship in 2015.
which. look. we don't have time to unpack all that. but. the point is that obviously briggs wasn't exactly a massive fan of the change within valentino's team, and his comments about the 2015 season do have to be read with that in mind. as to whether vale really would have done better in 2015 with jb at his side, your guess is as good as mine. all that being said, a part of me wonders how much losing that grounding presence enabled valentino's late-2015 spiral. maybe not in terms of talking valentino out of the great big fluctuating lap times treachery theory - to state the obvious, valentino got himself involved in plenty of drama during jb's time as a crew chief. jb himself occasionally helped add fuel to the fire in those feuds, like his infamous comment about how he would be able to fix the ducati's issues in 80 seconds that casey still brings up every three business days (the comments were poorly phrased but also somewhat taken out of context, in that jb was talking about a specific set-up problem). he's generally been pretty happy to be forthright about valentino's rivals, for instance this about casey:
My feeling at the time was that Casey probably only had one game plan, and having watched Casey over the years, he doesn't have a plan B. If it doesn't go his way from the outset, it's probably one of the weaknesses that he had through the youth that he had, through the lack of experience that he had. That's not a criticism of him per se, he was still only 22 at the time.
(this is about laguna seca 2008 and how he helped valentino win that race, including in plotting out vale's rather ruthless tactics - which casey was of course not exactly a fan of.) or these. uh. harsh comments about dani from spring 2010:
Q: Is that atmosphere or track knowledge? Is it like the Spanish finding something extra at the racetracks in Spain? JB: Well, therein we show the weakness, don't we? If you can get up on that weekend, on the technical racetracks of Spain, why can't you get up on the technical racetracks like Australia, where the Italians do? Lorenzo is a guy who will and does. Stoner has been able to get up on tracks all over the world. Unfortunately, Dani Pedrosa's into his 6th year in MotoGP, and he's won 8 races, Jorge Lorenzo's two months into his 3rd and he's won 6. It's night and day between those two, is the way I see it. Dani's an extremely fast rider, but a shockingly poor racer. Q: Were you surprised at Jerez [2010] when Pedrosa fought back when Lorenzo passed him? JB: When did Dani fight back? With two laps to go, and he didn't even get close enough to try to come back. Dani has never been a fighter in races, he's a lovely kid, don't get me wrong, but you can see that Lorenzo, having Pedrosa in front of him, it was never going to be the way he was going to finish that race. He was going to finish on the ground or he was going to finish in front of Pedrosa. That's the sort of race that we want, we had that with Biaggi and Valentino, and from history with Schwantz and Rainey. All the good riders have always had somebody they have had to put the target on the back of. It was Doohan and Gardner, and Doohan won that battle hands down, and I think Jorge Lorenzo's going to win this battle [with Pedrosa] hands down.
kind of a dick! so his attitude to valentino being valentino has generally been a) well having enemies is good, actually, with an added slice of b) good luck to his enemies :) - see also this quote (from the barker biography) in the context of the gibernau rivalry:
And that made Rossi even more dangerous, as Jerry Burgess pointed out: ‘Valentino is the sort of rider I wouldn’t want to get angry. He can take you apart on the track.’
so yes, jb is also perfectly brutal in his own right, as you presumably have to be to work alongside valentino so closely for so long. he is, however, also somebody valentino has a massive amount of respect for, somebody who helped turn him into a legend and is responsible for a lot of vale's success - not least, of course, in the pivotal move to yamaha. he was replaced by a man of a far far lesser stature in the sport, one who presumably would have been grateful to valentino for the biggest job he was ever going to get. if briggs is right and there was a shift in valentino in 2015, surrounded as he was by italians (derogatory) who could not stand up to him, who allowed valentino to insist on war and peace on the pit boards, to focus more and more on things that had nothing to do with riding... it would be going a little too far to say that valentino was missing an adult in the room given he was, in fact, in his thirties and should have been capable of being that adult. and who knows what jb would have said or thought or done about the great big childhood hero deception theory. but sepang 2015 was the culmination of a lot of things, including a pressure cooker of a season that grew more and more tense and put more and more stress on everyone involved - perhaps for none more so than valentino. maybe, just maybe, if he'd had somebody around him with fifteen years of experience in handling him, who could have just occasionally told him to knock it off, to concentrate on the racing, to keep things simple (always jb's defining philosophy), to maybe not get so wrapped up in the great big spanish collusion theory...
or maybe it wouldn't have mattered! maybe we're getting cause and effect all wrong here; maybe valentino was deliberately fashioning his entourage into one that was only going to give him positive feedback. maybe he would have just stopped listening to jb, maybe the very decision to fire jb makes it clear he was no longer interested in what jb had to say. it's a tragedy, after all! maybe it was always going to go like this. maybe it was always going to end like this
speaking of entourages, marc's manager played a bit of a cameo role in fanning the flames just a little further (article from marca, 26/10/2015):
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alzamora obviously will be somebody valentino is familiar with, having raced him in 125cc and also having just coexisted in the paddock over the years. valentino could of course be lying, but idk, why would he? he's already made his case by this point, and what if alzamora were to contradict him? if it's true and this conversation did happen, you do have to say it's a spectacularly unhelpful intervention from alzamora. even if marc was mad at valentino, why the hell are you telling valentino this AFTER sepang 2015? what's the plan here buddy
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^ 1999 world champions: alzamora in 125cc, vale in 250cc and alex criville in 500cc. people think motogp lore is complicated but if you know like, five guys, you're set for about twenty years of drama
which does get to the heart of the matter - a lot of these people have big egos and their own agendas and they love to run their mouths. they like talking a big game and getting involved in things they really shouldn't be getting involved in. is reed right that these people in the riders' entourages 'created the drama'? well, no, I think the two men at the centre of this particular tragedy were plenty capable of doing that themselves. nevertheless, you can point to how professional sports (and motogp in particular) forces you to rely heavily on a small group of people to keep you sane at the centre of the storm, and the risks that can emerge when that small group collectively unmoors itself from reality. you can point to the perils of fame, both in making your reliance on your inner circle so unnegotiable as well as in providing you with the status and power and ego to ignore anyone who might wish to change your mind. you can point to specific figures in this story who managed to incite the conflict between the two of them, as well as how the pressure cooker competitive environment they were operating within helped set up the ultimate catastrophe. you can point to how valentino lacked anyone with the power to stop him - both in the direct sense of forcing him to reconsider and the indirect sense of commanding his respect enough to make him see sense. maybe, just like in 2004, valentino had simply been "looking for an excuse" and he was always headed down this path. or maybe if somebody had just held him back a little that year, kept him focused on his riding, maybe if the right person had intervened at the right time...
maybe, maybe, maybe. that's why it's a tragedy
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lulublack90 · 1 day
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Prompt 18 Neighbour AU
@wolfstarmicrofic April 18, word count 991
Remus Lupin had one asset, and that was his parent’s house. It was in the middle of the Welsh countryside. It was a mile walk to the little village, and the only thing it had going for it was the barn. It was light and airy and smelled of wood. 
Remus had spent a lot of time and effort converting it into a liveable space. The idea had been to sell it, but no one was interested in living so far away from the major cities. So, under the advice of his estate agent, he rented it out for short holidays. 
So far, it had been quite lucrative. With the money he made from that and his own job, he could afford chocolate whenever he wanted. 
The holiday season was coming, and he already had two weeks booked out. He tended to get a lot of city dwellers looking to get away from it all or families trying to get back to their roots. 
He checked his emails one morning with a fresh cup of tea and a plate of crumpets. HE filtered out the junk and found an inquiry email in his barn folder. He opened it.
A man was looking to hire the barn for the full summer and all of September as well. He was looking at three months of solid booking. It was a shame he couldn’t offer it, having already booked those two weeks. And he refused to let down his other guests. He typed a reply stating as much. He got a reply back almost instantly, asking if there was somewhere he could pitch a small tent. Mr Black said he would gladly still pay full price while his other guests used the barn. Remus couldn’t believe what he was reading. It seemed too good to be true. He sent a couple of pictures of his personal garden. The views weren’t as good, but it would be sheltered from the worst of the wind, and he could use Remus’s garden furniture. Again, the reply was quick. The man agreed and said he hoped he wouldn’t be any bother. 
Remus sent an invoice and got Mr Black to confirm he agreed to the price, and with the confirmation, he booked out the three months. He sat back with a pleased look on his face as he finished his crumpets. He just hoped that Mr Black would be a good neighbour as it was a long time to deal with a terrible guest. 
July arrived, and with it, a sleek black motorbike and an equally sleek owner. Sirius, as he demanded to be called, settled in instantly. He played his music a little loudly, but as it was to Remus’s taste, he decided to enjoy it. 
Remus found he quite enjoyed Sirius’s company, and they spent nearly every night in Remus’s garden drinking beers. Remus had even started making enough dinner for Sirius, though Sirius had told him he didn’t expect it but did appreciate it as he was useless at cooking.
It turned out that Sirius needed a break from his high-pressure job, which was why he’d come to Remus’s. 
“I hate it. It’s been my life since my mother found out she was pregnant with me. They own the company now, but my brother and I run it. He’s so much better at it than I am, and I swear he’d have such an easier time at it if I quit.” Sirius had admitted to him one August afternoon.
“Then why don’t you quit?” Remus asked as though it were an obvious solution. 
“Everything I own is tied up in the company. If I leave, I lose everything.” He shrugged. “My parents made sure it was that way after I went through a rebellious streak in my teenage years.”
“That’s terrible, Sirius. I wish I could help.” And Remus found he meant it. 
“Don’t fret about it. I’ll muddle through.” Sirius beamed at him as he patted Remus’s leg. “Right, enough feeling sorry for myself. I’m off for a walk. Care to join me?” Remus couldn’t think of any reason not to, so he took the proffered hand, and they strolled towards the village. 
Remus showed Sirius some of his favourite childhood haunts just off the beaten track, and they spent a wonderful afternoon in the thick foliage. 
Soon, the first week came around when Sirius would have to sleep in his tent. And, of course, the worst storm to hit Wales in over a hundred years decided to arrive that night. 
The trees were whipping back and forth, creaking and groaning. The fence surrounding Remus’s garden swayed dangerously. Remus refused to let Sirius stay out in this. He flung open the back door and yelled into the downpour. 
“Sirius! Sirius!” A face popped out of the zippered entrance of the tent. “Get in here!” Sirius shook his head. 
“I’m all good. Don’t fret.” 
Lightning cut across the sky, lighting the dark ground with its answering thunder not far behind. 
“Sirius, please! I won’t be able to sleep knowing you’re out here!” 
Suddenly, Sirius was streaking across the lawn and ran straight into Remus’s arms, knocking the lanky man back a few steps. Lighting flashed across the sky again and then another and another. The last bolt hit the cherry blossom tree in Remus’s garden, and a huge branch fell off and crushed the tent Sirius had been in moments before. 
“Yeah, probably a good call that Remus,” He joked. “Shall I put the kettle on?” Remus decided, not that he had much choice, that Sirius would be staying in his spare bedroom for the remainder of the two weeks. Maybe longer if the look Sirius was giving him meant what Remus thought it did. That night, they sat, snuggled up together on Remus’s tiny sofa in front of a roaring fire, sipping mugs of hot chocolate and listening to the storm wailing around them.  
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tinydefector · 3 days
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Hi! I have to say that since I read your energy fluid au, I couldn't stop thinking about it haha. I could have tfp optimus x gn!human!reader With energy fluid au? That the human is his first time to try something like that.
Tightly Wound energyFluid AU
TFP optimus Prime x human reader
Warnings: Smut, Blowjob, Handjob, fingerings? Valveplug
Word count: 2k
Request and Ask open read pinned post
__________________
"I mean it Optimus, you look like you have slept in nearly a week,I know Cybertronian's probably work differently but you still need rest" the human argue at the Autobot leader, he hadn't been taking care of himself that much was evident to everyone at base. Ratchet had told him off for it too, the others weren't willing to talk back to their leader, but Optimus human charge, They are determined to make sure he rests. They softly scold him as he makes his way towards his quarters. 
Optimus vented softly at their persisting concern, touched by their care for one so much larger than themselves. "Your care for my well-being is much appreciated,but I can guarantee you, I am fine," he states, trying to plead his case, he had more work to do, scans to run and areas that needed to be patrolled. “Don't give me that shit Op, your optics look like they are ready to fall out of your head!” They argue back, it only earns a sigh from the Prime, he knows he's not getting out of this, they were to firey when it came to him looking after himself. 
Settling back against the wall of his berth, he tucked his legs beneath him and gazed down at their small form nestled against his chassis. After a moment's quiet contemplation, he conceded softly, "Very well. I will take your advice and recharge this night cycle. Satisfied?" His optics shoot from them, he knows if he looks them in the eyes he wouldn't be able to fight them at all. “I will be once you lay down” 
A gentle rumble built in his spark at the feeling their presence brought, even as his systems attempted to power down in preparation for repairs. Some battles were won through force, this one was going to be won by his charge, and they knew full well they were already winning, their stubbornness reminded him of megaton at times, not willing to back down, and they were willing to take even himself on For that, he was grateful, they didn't shun away just because he was a prime.
They lay against his chassis watching him vent trying to fall into recharge. It's silent between them for a long while before they finally move. His optics flicker back on watching them move. They sit up against his chassis. One of their hands reached up to his face, tracing it slowly. " can't sleep?" Their voice is tender now, the fight from earlier had left them as they watch Optimus struggle to find recharge.
Though his systems urged him toward recharge, his processor refused to shut down, Optimus could not fully power down; he was too wired, wanting to get things done. His optics flickered warmly as small hands traced gentle patterns along the seams and plating of his facial structure, he  into the gentle touch and a deep noise vibrated through his chassis.
" rest does not come as easy," he rumbled softly, careful not to disturb their exploration. Lifting a digit, he softly returned their touch, letting its tip graze their back with the lightest of pressures. "Forgive me, my processor won't shut down." He sighed, Duty was not easily set aside for him, so many things were at stake. 
 Gazing down at their small form outlined against the blue glow of his sparkchamber. " talk to me Op, what's wrong?" They ask softly. Their eyes looked up at him worried over what was wrong, they press little pecked kiss to his helm. In truth Optimus was frustrated and didn't know how to address it. For a moment, no words came as buried memories and emotions swirled within.
Then, venting softly, he spoke in a low rumble. "There have been many vorns since last I self serviced. Much has changed, I'm as you would say ‘Pent up’ " His voice took on a weary edge. "The burdens of leadership are not easily set aside, even in recharge. Responsibility for so many weighs heavy, and some days the path ahead seems shrouded in darkness. I strive always to make the choices that will safeguard our future...yet doubt can linger that I have made the right ones. And I have Neglected my own sensors"
He gazed off into the distance as centuries of struggle flickered across his optics. "It's something I haven't had the opportunity to fix." His plating fluttered faintly, a faint expression of inner turmoil.
They lean up and press an ever so soft to his lips, " can I help anyway?" They inquiry. Small hands cupping his face as they continue peppering small kisses across his frame. "Blowjob?" The human jokingly asks as laughter spills from their lips. "Sorry, sorry." They laugh more, pressing their face into his chassis. 
Optimus sighs wearily, field damping the warmth of your affectionate touches. While their humor and willingness to aid are well-intentioned, certain acts would go against his principles.
"I thank you for the offer of assistance," he rumbles gently, servos enveloping your smaller hands where they cradle his faceplate. Optics crinkling, he adds, "But I fear certain... biological functions may cause unwarranted distress to your human systems."
Lifting them closer, he gazes down at them with a small smile. His field radiates gratitude and care. While desire is not unknown to him, duty to his cause and their safety comes first. 
"Optimus the size doesn't really phase me if that's what you're worried about" they reply moving further down his form. "Would it help you recharge with some release?" It's an inquiry while they slowly move down his tanks to the interface panel. They run their hands over his form gently in circles. “I'm offering Optimus, I know it may be hard to understand but you deserve to relax and have someone take the burdens off your shoulders even if it's just for a little” 
Optimus vents softly, gazing down at them with gentle optics. While their intention is clearly to provide relief and pleasure, his worry is certain intimacies that could endanger their small frame.
Still, their caring touch along his plating brings serenity amid endless conflicts in his own mind. "You have a kind spark," he rumbles softly. "However, as your Guardian I cannot in good conscience engage in acts that could risk your well-being, no matter how well-meaning the offer." Lifting their face with a digit, he strokes their cheek with another. 
"Optimus just for one night, what do you want, not what you think, what do you want" they ask while pressing soft kisses to his plating. Orion stirs within at the words, 
Their delicate touches along seams and plating bring solace yet kindle fleeting fantasies, he wanted them, but it wasn't something he could allow him. 
"For one night don't be the leader just be Orion, relax, let me look after you" they argue back, and in that moment Optimus realises that he wasn't going to win this argument. " trust me, i know you struggle with trust but trust me " they state pressing kisses further down his interface panel.
He Venting softly. “I haven't done this before” he states. He's worried over so many things but the moment their lips press against a tender spot it has him gasping loudly, as a servo gripping the side of his berth.  His armour plates part with a hiss, baring the metal within to your exploration.
They smile as his spike pressurises. Small hands wrap around him. Slowly moving up and down, they slowly press a kiss to the base. Their eyes flicker down to his valve. "Just relax" they call out to him. 
 Optimus releases a soft ventilation at their careful touch, mental disciplines the sole barrier against fully surrendering to sensation, He traces their back with gentle digits as their tongue teases along heated metal and wiring. An age-old ache stirs within as desire threatens long-banished fantasies. 
The human's exploration pulls sounds from his vocalizer unheard since vorns ago, He meets their upward gaze, One of His digits trace cheek in gratitude. 
One of their hands moves down to Optimus' valve slowly teasing him open, they run their tongue along nodes as they move further down. Their eyes widen at the sweet taste. They dive in for more of Optimus' sweet taste. A soft shudder runs through Optimus' frame as their questing fingers dance across nodes and explore, delving deeper. It has him arching with a sinful moan slipping from him.  
He releases a quiet rumble at the sensations. His spike throbs as their tongue teases unseen nodes, coaxing transfluid rich glowing arousal from hidden manifolds. Their mouth drinks it as quickly as they can, and for a moment he worries over the effect of it in a human's system, but the worry is thrown out the window the moment they take his spike into their mouth. 
A whimpered sound leaves him, optics shutter at the sinful feeling of their mouth against his spike. "Damn you really are pent up" they tease, lips tracing patterns against  his spike, lapping up the small amounts of transfluid dripping from him. "God you taste amazing, so sweet " they call out before trying to take him further into their mouth.
Optimus releases a soft groan at their teasing words, optics brightening at their evident enjoyment. The praise and eagerness to please stir long-dimmed responses deep within his core.
He ventilations deeply as their lips and glossa work flicking lights that line his spike, coaxing fresh waves of transfluid from him. He had never had a partner tend to these sensors so caringly. So many things he didn't know were possible. 
His servos gently cradle them against his spike's pulsing heat, digits tracing their form in wordless rapture,  moans, cries and deep vents fall from him. They take him further into their mouth transfluid leaking from the sides as they lap up the sweet pink fluid. pulling away from a moment before moving right back down to his valve, rotating between both as they work Optimus up slowly. "You look so pretty like this you know" they call out.
Optimus utters a loud gasp as they redouble their attention. “please, please” he all but sobs out, rocking into their touch. Their praise had him melting under them. For the first time since before memory itself. strain-knotted lines, awakening his frame and he's nearly begging for release.
As ecstasy rises within burning waves, "That's it, so good for me, gonna overload for me sweetheart?" They call out, lips wrapping back around his valve node, sucking harder as they press their hand into Optimus' Valve, thrusting in and out quickly. Tremors run through Optimus' frame at their eager ministrations bring him swiftly cresting toward his peak. 
Their hands and sweet mouth coax ecstasy ripening within hidden nodes newly sensitised. Pleasure rends seams locked up his systems And as peak claims his senses, he cries out rocking desperately into each touch.
When Optimus finally overloads, he goes lax against his berth. Their lips and tongue work swiftly with licking up more of his transfluid. his optics online again it's to the view of their lips against his spike lapping up the pink fluid. 
Optimus vents softly as awakening creeps back into weary systems, steam vents from him, fans kick in as he lays there body almost like jelly. He trails gentle digits across their cheek, “what are you doing?” he asked with a static to his voice. 
They continue drinking up his transfluid, trying not to let it drip down onto the berth, eager lips taking as much as they physically can, their smaller body leant against his thighs as they clean him. “enjoying myself” they chuckle. His systems sink into peace, welcoming the touch as they devoted attention to every crease of his plating. They are dedicated to making sure no drop goes to waste, worshipping each sensor until static fades into serenity. 
“never thought you'd taste like Blue V” they chuckle while lapping up more of him, when they do finally pull away from his spike it's with a loud pop. 
"I think I'm going to have to make this a common thing, because i rather enjoy how nice you taste," they call out. Their tongue is stained pink but they continue sucking the sweet tasting liquid from his plating. Optimus ventilates softly at their suggestion, optics half lidded. 
Optimus vents softly as recharge's gentle tide pulls at weary systems so recently stirred alive. His frame relaxes into deepening rest with a contented rumble, his human's smaller form nestled safe against his thighs and interface panel still thrumming warmth. Their face pressed into the metal as they find sleep against his form. 
“You did what with a human!?” Ratchet nearly shouts, he looks ready to fall over when Optimus inquires about the effect of Transfluid on a human's system. 
“Ratchet please, I will explain but I need to know if it is harmful to a human” he pleads. He's worried about his human ward. 
Ratchet sighs as both Ratchet and Optimus stand there researching the effects. 
“no it isn't harmful, but you are now getting a full check up and you are going to explain how this happened!” Ratchet growls as he points a digit at the Prime. 
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yongility · 3 days
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NEO TV # ROCKABYE (taeyong x reader) 2/?.
genre: single dad au, ceo au, fluff, slightly angst, smut.
warnings: adult language, death mentions, idk there's not a lot of warning for this one.
word count: 7k (not proofread!!!)
a/n: if you want to be in the taglist, just lemme know;) enjoy!
When Taeyong was growing up, he always carried with him the memory of the wonderful family he had, a small yet at the same time, great family. He, his mother, and his father didn't need anyone else. They were always the three of them, and it was more than enough. Sure, his family wasn't always conventional, and there were obviously mistakes here and there, but that would never mean that Taeyong wouldn't be grateful for the life and love his parents provided him.
Taeyong was always a starry-eyed boy. Passionate about everything that interested him. As a child, he went through countless phases trying to discover what he wanted for his future... Would he be the same man as his father? Or would he choose another profession? Would he be a stay-at-home dad and dedicate himself to his family?
Like the hyperactive child he was... he never knew for sure, and if there was an exact word to describe Lee Taeyong, it would surely be unpredictable.
Unpredictable because no one had the slightest idea what the boy's next step would be. Unpredictable because Taeyong changed his opinions every half an hour unless he felt one hundred percent sure about what he was doing. That was Lee Taeyong, that's how his family and friends knew him, and that's how he was formed.
Nevertheless, the boy matured at a fast pace. Without necessarily feeling it present, the pressure regarding his father's company position was looming closer and closer, not explicitly, but it wasn't necessary to be so to know what would become of him once he graduated from university. He could always hear what others said about him: 'Oh, Mrs. Lee's son is a true gentleman, surely his parents will be proud of him' ... 'Will he really take over the Lee company? He's nothing more than a spoiled child who always had everything handed to him on a silver platter.'
There were always different opinions and criticisms from different perspectives. Yes, Taeyong knew he wasn't perfect, he was more than aware of it. Taeyong was human, he had made mistakes, stumbled along the way, but he always tried to put one foot forward and rise from every stumble he had encountered.
He wasn't a relationship guy. He was sure of that. Of course, he had had some teenage romances in his high school days. He had been on a few dates during college, and yes, he had had at least one relationship that had lasted at least a year.
Although this last one was more about social pressure than simply enjoying the company of the girl who was his girlfriend at his twenty-three years. He would never blame Joy and would never speak bad about her; in the end, Joy had been someone with whom he had spent part of his growth and accompanied in various moments, which was when they decided to try some kind of relationship between them and for the good of both families according to his mother. The Lee family and the Park family had been partners for a long time, so what better than to bring together both heirs of their heritage to reinforce both businesses? However, that didn't last long. Only a year, Taeyong appreciated Joy and vice versa, but definitely didn't see any future with her. He tried, he really tried. He wanted to do his best, he wanted to do things right, but he couldn't. He simply couldn't.
And with the pressure from his family and Joy's family, nothing could be contracted.
'Taeyong, we are very happy that our daughter and you are making such great progress, we can't wait to see a ring on my daughter's finger.'
'Taeyong, time is passing and you still haven't knelt before her, you know we can't grow old without seeing you at the altar.'
'Taeyong, today Joy and I were at the mall and we saw a spectacular baby clothing store, you're taking too long! How lovely it would be to already have a little one running through the halls of the house!'
Marriage, family, commitment. It was something that Taeyong didn't think about and didn't want to have at his twenty-three years. Sure, someday he would have to settle down and form his legacy, but he wished it would be with someone he truly loved, with someone he could see his future with and grow old together, but could he ever get all that someday?"
_______________________________________________
First Month.
Week one.
For someone with enough money, Taeyong didn't usually keep his apartment constantly in undergoing renovations. Lee Taeyong was a simple man, he preferred the minimalist and the modest. Nothing extravagant, nothing ostentatious. At the end of the day, there were few times he found himself at home, its only use was just for sleeping, if he had the opportunity to do so.
However, as many things had been changing suddenly in the last few days, it was no news that his apartment would be one of the things involved in one of those changes. So his apartment was now filled with piles of boxes here and there and a few cans of paint waiting to be used.
It would be a long process.
"If someone told me that, that when I return from America, I would be assembling a crib for one of my friends' daughters, I definitely wouldn't believe it," Jaehyun said slowly as he read some instructions.
"Hard to believe, but not impossible," commented Doyoung, snatching the paper from his hands and now reading the instructions.
"It's just that I only left for two weeks! And now I'm an uncle! As far as I know, that process takes nine months," exclaimed Jaehyun exasperatedly.
A thump on his head made him stop and he brought his hand to his neck to rub it as he complained slowly and looked at the cause of that attack.
"It was a nine-month process, idiot. It's just that we didn't find out about it until a little over a week ago," Doyoung told him, looking at him disapprovingly.
After that, and quietly giving up on how to build a crib, they left the room where they were and headed to the small baby carrier that was on the couch with a very peaceful Sun Hee inside it, or at least she seemed to be peaceful.
Doyoung and Jaehyun approached her, who either looked at them or made an attempt to do so, with her eyes wide open and babbling sweetly. The heads of both boys tilted as they watched the little one and her actions, almost as if they were examining her and trying to guess what her next move would be.
May the universe take care of the little one with such uncles she has.
"She looks like Taeyong," murmured Jaehyun.
"Well, of course she looks like him, she's his daughter," Doyoung replied obviously.
"She could look like her mom, who knows," the younger shrugged and continued to watch the little one. Who would have thought that one of their friends would be a father?, who would have thought that the very Lee Taeyong, who loved freedom, would become a father? The little one remained calm for a few more moments, until Doyoung and Jaehyun's gaze that was on her may have made her uncomfortable, because without further ado and letting out a whimper, she began to cry; causing both boys to look at each other and panic as they didn't know what to do next.
"Should I pick her up?" Jaehyun asked alarmed. He had never held a baby before. "Sun Hee? Calm down... calm down Sun Hee... don't cry."
"Where's Taeyong?" asked Doyoung, and the baby's crying became even louder. "Taeyong!"
"Sun Hee, please don't cry," murmured Jaehyun as he looked around, then took the remote control and turned on the TV. "Look! Look Sun Hee, the news! That so interesting, isn't it?"
"You idiot, what does she know about the news," snapped an upset Doyoung as he lightly hit his friend's arm.
"How would I know, I've never had a daughter! Where's Taeyong? Taeyong!" they called again for the attention of the father, who was not present, and the little one began to cry more and more. "Sun Hee, don't cry because I'm also going to cry," commented a very sentimental Jaehyun.
To the misfortune of both boys, Taeyong along with Johnny had gone down to the lobby of the building for a couple of things that would be delivered for the apartment renovation.
Who else but the great Lee Taeyong would leave a baby in the care of TWO adult babies? Nobody else but him.
Doyoung quickly grabbed a toy that looked like a rattle and after seeing his friend entering a great state of panic, he began to shake it trying to get the attention of the little one who seemed not to have precisely an off button, and instead of getting distracted and stopping crying with the noise of her toy, she seemed to become more uncomfortable and start crying once again.
Both friends looked at each other again, defeated. A one-week-old baby had more power over them. They would definitely be ready to be parents in about... thirty years.
"You idiots , what have you done to my princess?" Lee Taeyong questioned once inside his apartment, leaving the boxes he was carrying on the floor and approaching his daughter, lifting her in his arms and making her cry cease once she felt the warmth of her father.
"What did we do to her? What did she do to us!" exclaimed Jaehyun, bringing his hands to his face.
"You're so dramatic, Sun Hee is a sunshine," commented Johnny, approaching his friends and stroking the cheeks of the little one in Taeyong's arms. "Aren't you? You're a very pretty sunshine, Sun Hee, I bet when you grow up you'll be so pretty that everyone will be after you," he said in a high-pitched voice while Sun Hee seemed to be very familiar with the voice of her third uncle, who was making a very small attempt at a smile.
"Look at that, it seems like Sunnie already has favoritism towards one of her uncles," Taeyong said, smiling tenderly as he saw his daughter calmer.
"Johnny her favorite uncle? I'm the godfather!" exclaimed Doyoung offended.
"He's the godfather?" Jaehyun and Johnny asked incredulously, pointing at Doyoung.
Oh no.
Taeyong looked innocently at his friends and smiled slightly once an idea lit up his head.
"Whoever manages to assemble her crib will be her godfather. Isn't that right, Sun Hee?" the little one just babbled while her eyes closed, beginning to drift off to sleep.
He didn't need to repeat his sentence before his friends ran out of the room and ran towards the place that would be Sun Hee's room.
Taeyong laughed and left his little daughter in the baby carrier while gently rocking her.
It will be a long day.
_____________________________________________
First month.
Week three.
If there's one thing people know about Lee Taeyong, it's that he's a dedicated and determined man. A workaholic perhaps, and that might be the reason behind the great success and reputation of his company. Taeyong knew what he was doing, and he was the best at it. His investments always remained clean and on a large scale; any businessman would feel honored to work with the great Lee, or even to have a minimal connection with him. He was well-known in the business world, not just because of who his father was, but because of the great work he had done on his own to achieve everything his companies obtained after his father's retirement. A young man in big business, respected by the world.
That was Lee Taeyong.
He was also a man of routine and hated when it was affected. Over the years and as he grew older, Taeyong realized that the best thing for him was to have a schedule ready for each morning so that things would go more smoothly and efficiently. His days were mostly planned, but it was obvious that there would always be some unexpected event to deal with during the day. However, Taeyong always found a way to handle it as organized as possible.
However, with the arrival of Sun Hee in his life, and what it caused to change completely, his routine had to be terribly affected. He had been aware that this would happen, at least in the first weeks – or months – of Sun Hee's life. At least until he could take her to a daycare or until he could find a nanny he could trust completely to leave the most precious thing in his life in her care.
So for now, he had to play two roles, that of being a father and that of being the CEO of one of Korea's most important companies. Although now that he could see his life from two completely different points of view, he could assure that the first role was by far more difficult than the second.
He had heard a lot about being a father, even his mother had given him a book on how to be a father, he thought it would help, but it really didn't help at all. Being a single father was hard, especially being a first-timer; his mind was in chaos. Of course, he loved Sun Hee, she was his life, his ray of sunshine, but sometimes it was too much to handle, sometimes the diapers didn't fit as nicely as a pretty nurse had taught him... Sometimes Sun Hee didn't want to drink the formula that Taeyong offered her when she was supposed to eat – and according to his mother, maybe it was because the girl needed breast milk, how the hell could Taeyong do that? – Sometimes no matter how much effort he made, Sun Hee wouldn't stop crying.
And that's where he was right now. At three in the morning, with visible dark circles under his eyes, his hair disheveled, barefoot while rocking Sun Hee back and forth in his arms, who seemed to find no peace.
"Shh, Sunnie. What's wrong? You should sleep a little, don't you want to let Daddy rest a bit?"
The day for Taeyong had been difficult; there had been some mishaps in the company that couldn't be dealt with from home, so he had to go there with Sun Hee as his company.
The confused looks from his employees had not been of much help to him at that moment.
Nor had it been of much help that Sun Hee had been whiny all day. Taeyong didn't understand what was going on with his little one, it wasn't that she needed a diaper change, it wasn't that she was hungry... she just spent the day throwing little complaints.
And that had been too much for Taeyong. The pressure of business matters and the responsibility he had as a father became too much.
Sun Hee continued to cry in his arms, and Taeyong felt like he would cry at any moment too.
"Sunnie, please. I don't want us to be kicked out of the building for bothering the neighbors," murmured a very frustrated father. "Calm down, baby, can you do that for me? Can you calm down a bit, huh? Can you do that for Daddy?"
Taeyong stroked his daughter's cheek, who seemed to stop crying and just let out a few small sobs that hopefully would stop in a few seconds.
He sighed and relaxed his body, bringing Sun Hee closer to him.
And maybe... just maybe, he spoke too quickly.
Because as soon as he was relaxed, his daughter started crying again, and this time Taeyong couldn't take it anymore and cried too. He sat on his bed with her in his arms, and a few tears fell from his eyes.
Looking at his daughter and seeing the state she was in, he couldn't help but feel his heart ache. Sun Hee looked so fragile, so small. How could he keep her safe? How could he make everything alright? Oh, how he wished he had come into the world with all the knowledge about how to be a good father in his mind.
"I wish I could know what's wrong with you, Sun Hee, but I can't read your little mind," he murmured between sobs. Obviously, his daughter didn't respond, but rather continued with her act.
His lungs would probably hurt right now with all the crying he had done, and that terrified Taeyong, who stood in his place and walked to the bedside table, where he picked up his phone and entered his contacts list. He didn't exactly know what he was doing or why, but his desperation overpowered him, and in a moment his fingers were dialing the only number he could think of, he just hoped he was doing the right thing.
One tone... two tones...
It's three in the morning, Lee Taeyong, who would answer you at this hour?
Three tones... four tones.
"Hello?" a very sleepy voice was heard on the other end of the line, and Taeyong could feel the air returning to his lungs.
"Y/N?, I'm really sorry for calling you at this hour," Lee murmured as he left his daughter in her rocker and held his phone between his shoulder and ear.
(Y/N) recognized that voice after a few seconds and recognized those cries even more, making her sit up briefly in her bed and mentally forcing herself to wake up completely.
"Taeyong? What's wrong? Is it Sun Hee the one I hear?"
Of course, it's Sun Hee, idiot! What other daughter does Lee Taeyong have?
"Yes, it's Sun Hee... and I... don't know what's going on. Sunnie has been complaining all day and hasn't stopped crying for a while. I don't know what to do, I've already changed her diaper, she's already eaten, I even sang her some lullabies, but nothing works," explained Taeyong desperately. "I don't know what to do, I'm tired, my arms hurt from carrying her so much, I've memorized all the nursery rhymes, and Sun Hee doesn't seem happy with anything."
"Oh, Taeyong..."
"You were sleeping, weren't you? Oh God, I'm so sorry, I know it's late, but calling you was the only thing I could think of, I'm really sorry..."
"Taeyong?" (Y/N) called him. "Don't worry, I told you that you could call me if you ever needed it. I have no problem helping you, even if it's three in the morning," the girl could hear the soft laugh of the nurse on the other end of the line, and this created a great contrast between the incessant cries of his daughter and the sweet laughter of (Y/N). "What can I do for you?"
"I know it's late, but I can't think of anything else, can you come? Or if you want, I can put Sun Hee in her car seat and drive over there!" Taeyong explained quickly.
"Calm down, I don't think it's the best idea for you to drive stressed and with Sun Hee crying in the back seat. Send me your address, and I'll be there in a moment."
"Thank you, (Y/N), I wouldn't be calling at this hour if I really didn't need it..."
______________________________________________
The door of Taeyong's large apartment was knocked, and this alerted the boy as he carried his baby close to his chest. Lee headed to the entrance of his house, and when he opened it, he found (Y/N) in a very different contrast than he had become accustomed to seeing her. For obvious reasons, she was not in her work clothes, and now she was wearing a black sweatshirt with cute pants covered in puppy drawings all over. Her hair slightly loose and without a drop of makeup.
Even so, she looked pretty.
Taeyong blinked a couple of times and moved aside to let the girl pass while he continued to rock his daughter.
(Y/N) entered the apartment and approached the father and the little girl.
"Can you lay her down somewhere? I'd like to give her a quick check-up,"
Taeyong nodded without hesitation, walked to the room that had been adapted for Sun Hee, and laid her down in her crib. The crib that Johnny had successfully built, opening the fight between who would truly be Sun Hee's godfather... something they would detail later.
Once the little one was in her crib, (Y/N) lifted her clothes slightly to observe Sun Hee's stomach and see a few more things. The boy simply watched in silence, resigned by his daughter's cries and giving a couple of glances to the girl beside him.
I wish the call I made had been for something else and not for this.
Taeyong and (Y/N) hadn't had contact since that time two weeks ago when the former had left the hospital. Taeyong tried to call her a couple of times, to thank her again for everything she had done for them during the time she had been Sun Hee's nurse, but for some reason, he was always busy enough with his daughter and the company, and he didn't allow himself to do it.
He would have liked to invite her for coffee sometime.
He really would have liked that.
"I'm not exactly a doctor," (Y/N) spoke. "But I've worked with many babies to see these consistent behaviors. It seems to me that Sun Hee is suffering from colic; I think it would be best to take her to the pediatrician first thing in the morning just to be sure."
Taeyong nodded without saying a word, maybe because he was too tired to formulate anything or because maybe his mind was no longer processing anything. (Y/N) smiled tenderly, regardless of the little one's whining; after all, it was something she heard daily in maternal care.
"Can I?" she asked, pointing to Sun Hee. Taeyong nodded again, and (Y/N) took the little one in her arms. "Oh Sun Hee, it's been a while since we last saw each other; you look even prettier than two weeks ago, even though you won't stop crying," she murmured, earning a small laugh from Taeyong.
"Try spending three hours listening to her cry," the visibly tired boy replied.
"I work in maternal care, remember? I hear several babies cry at the same time."
"True," Taeyong sighed, "it's just that it's tiring, you know? Particularly today was a heavy day, and it seems that Sunnie has no intention of letting me sleep tonight."
"We'll try to fix it then," (Y/N) gave him a smile, glanced around the room, and when she found a rocking chair, she went there to sit down.
She placed Sun Hee on her lap face down and began to pat her back gently, then used her fingers to give her a little massage, delicate enough for her. For a moment, the crying didn't stop, but after a few minutes, the father found himself really surprised to notice that his daughter had managed to calm down.
From the doorway of the room, with his arms crossed over his chest... Taeyong smiled.
But what a sight. (Y/N) tried not to be distracted by this and continued to massage while clearing her throat.
"The nursery is very nice," she commented, trying to look anywhere but at the boy's figure.
Taeyong nodded and approached her slightly.
If you don't see him, you won't be distracted... if you're not distracted by him, you won't think anything impure...
"Yes, we set it up the first week Sun Hee was here. The guys and I went through a moment-" Taeyong laughed as he remembered the day- "Do you remember, Doyoung? He was the one who accompanied me on the last day at the hospital," (Y/N) nodded, "Doyoung, Johnny, and Jaehyun helped me, it was chaos, but we managed to set everything up... still, Sun Hee doesn't sleep here yet."
"Really?"
"Mhmm, Sunnie sleeps with me. In a way, it's easier for her to sleep if I'm by her side; I just put some pillows around her, and she sleeps in my bed," he commented, feeling his cheeks blush. In reality, it wasn't so much that Sun Hee had gotten used to him, but rather that Taeyong rested more peacefully knowing that his daughter was by his side, so he would know that, if something happened, he could respond immediately.
"That's very sweet," she commented, "how has everything been? It's been three weeks since I heard anything from you," she continued massaging the little one's back.
"Uh, it's been good, I guess. Sometimes a bit chaotic, but I have my parents' help and Sun Hee's uncles," he replied, "... my friends, they say they're Sunnie's uncles, and I agree with them, they're like my brothers."
"It's nice to know you have someone to lean on; it would be much harder if you were alone," she took the baby in her arms and rocked her as she saw her sleepy face.
Taeyong, surprised by the immense ability of the nurse, watched the scene with tenderness, which looked too domestic. Too much for Taeyong's liking.
"Yes, it's been hard, but they've been a great help. I've been working from here, so I have to take care of the company and Sun Hee at the same time. Sometimes it gets stressful, but I have to keep doing it, at least until Sunnie gets bigger and I can get a nanny... or take her to the company. I don't know which of the two options is worse."
"You'll surely find a good nanny or daycare," (Y/N) encouraged, "you know? We have a daycare at the hospital... well, not exactly in maternal care or in the hospital itself, it's affiliated. Sometimes I cover shifts there; maybe you should consider it."
"Yes, maybe," Taeyong smiled.
Both remained silent for a few seconds, (Y/N) still gently rocking the little one to not wake her from the sleep she had fallen into, and Taeyong discreetly looking at the nurse.
Never in his life did he think he would find himself in such a situation.
But he wasn't complaining; he liked the scene. It was nice to see.
(Y/N) also discreetly contemplated the scene and thought to herself: How is it possible for Lee Taeyong to look so attractive at three in the morning? Even with dark circles under his eyes?
It wasn't news that the man seemed attractive to her, but after three weeks without hearing from him, she thought she wouldn't think of him that way. Of course, Taeyong and Sun Hee were constantly on her mind; she wanted to know about them on many occasions, but she had no way to contact with him, and the hospital, for good reasons, wouldn't give her the Lee family's private information; after all, it's the hospital's policies, and she would respect them.
However, she was grateful that Taeyong had called her, even though it had been at three in the morning on a Tuesday, to deal with Sun Hee's irritated problem.
She just hoped that if they met again, it would be in a different situation...
______________________________________________
An hour and a half later, with a deeply sleeping Sun Hee in Taeyong's bed surrounded by pillows, and the clock showing four forty-five in the morning. Lee Taeyong and Kang (Y/N) were in the living room of the apartment, not saying much.
"I think I should go," the girl commented. "I start my shift in a few hours."
Two hours and fifteen minutes to be exact.
"Oh my God, (T/N), you should have told me you had an early shift; I wouldn't have made you come here if I had known," Taeyong exclaimed alarmed.
"Don't worry, really. I told you that you could call me if you ever needed anything, and I meant it. You and Sun Hee would never be a problem. I'm glad to help," she smiled.
"Thank you very much, it means a lot to me that you did this," the boy commented. For a moment, he thought about taking the girl's hands and giving them a slight squeeze, but he held back his thoughts. "I promise to repay you soon... maybe with a coffee?" the brunette asked, feeling a surge of hope in his chest.
He saw the girl's smile widen, causing him to smile as well, and he lowered his gaze shyly.
"Rest assured that I'll say yes," she replied. "I'll be waiting for your call, even if it takes three weeks again," she joked.
"I won't take that long this time, I promise you."
"We'll see about that... in the meantime, don't forget to take Sun Hee to the pediatrician tomorrow; anything you need, you can call me, Lee Taeyong. I'd like to know how things are going with Sun Hee afterward."
"I'll let you know if anything comes up."
"Goodnight, Lee Taeyong."
"Goodnight, (Y/N)."
And so, at five in the morning, each went to bed with a small smile decorating their faces.
____________________________________________
For (Y/N), life was something she appreciated.
Perhaps that's why she chose to work in the healthcare field.
She grew up in a middle-class family. Nothing extravagant, but with everything necessary to live comfortably. Her family wasn't large either; it was just her, her two siblings, and her parents. A typical family with its ups and downs.
She was never demanding and instead tried to help with whatever she could. She liked making people feel good and enjoyed contributing whenever possible, something that made her parents proud.
She grew up as a normal girl, at least until she reached high school, where her parents' divorce took place. She never knew when it happened or what led them to make that decision, which left a scar on her heart.
Or maybe she always knew but never wanted to acknowledge it.
She must have noticed it when her parents started arguing over every little thing. She must have noticed it when her father was less present at home. Surely, she noticed it when her mother cried all day in her room when her husband spent the entire night away. Perhaps the times when her older sister was irritated and left home to hang out with people of dubious reputation were a sign of how her family was gradually falling apart.
However, she hoped it wouldn't be like that.
Still, despite how much that decision affected her, she continued with her life as best as she could, being a support to her mother and becoming the older sister when her brother failed in that task.
She became an independent woman. She didn't like relying on others for money, which is why she managed to work since she entered high school. It was a part-time job, enough for her to have her own money, and it was the job that allowed her to find her vocation and passion.
Her job wasn't complicated – or at least, it didn't feel that way because it was something she genuinely enjoyed. Every day, after finishing her last high school class, (Y/N) rushed to the Dongjak area, where on a small street, she found the daycare center that allowed her to find her path. At that time, she didn't fully interact with the children, as she lacked the experience needed and was still young for that, but she was the assistant to the caregivers there, and seeing them work excited her every day.
She didn't know if she had developed an emotional attachment there, after the conflicts that had arisen at home due to her parents' arguments.
But she enjoyed being there, she really did.
Then her sister, in an attempt to leave home and go with who she swore was the love of her life, got pregnant at a young age. It was a difficult pregnancy, and (Y/N) took part in taking care of her sister throughout the process. She appreciated everything she had learned at the daycare center, which allowed her to put it into practice once her nephew was born.
Her nephew was the apple of her eye and would always be.
She didn't blame her sister, she really didn't want to, but there were times when it seemed like she was the mother of her nephew herself. There were many occasions when she had to take care of Jisung. Her sister had to leave high school behind and get a job to cover her and her son's needs, especially after the man who swore to always be by her side had cowardly fled two months before giving birth, making the childbirth process even more difficult than it already was.
So, her nephew saw her as a pillar. Someone who took care of him, fed him, changed him, and cared for him. (Y/N) even witnessed his "firsts" before his own mother. His first steps, his first words, she even accompanied him on his first day of preschool, continuing until she had to go to university.
Having found her vocation early on made everything easier. She entered the Academy of Health and Pediatric Nursing in Seoul. Where she always got good grades and became an exemplary student, graduating with all the honors her academy could give her almost three years ago.
It wasn't difficult for her to find a job immediately, thanks to the recommendations some of her teachers had, she was able to find a nice position in the maternity and pediatric care area at Seoul General Hospital, where she couldn't feel more comfortable.
Where she was right now.
" Nurse (Y/N)!" a soft voice called from behind her, causing her to turn around and smile emotionally.
"Hello, little one," she greeted, approaching the bed of one of her patients. "How are you feeling today?"
"Very well, they told Mom that I can go home today, they say the treatment worked," the boy told her with a huge smile on his face.
"Oh, I'm so glad to hear that! You'll soon be back to see your friends at school," she encouraged him.
"Yes, but I'll miss you a lot, so I made this for you," he said, pointing to the piece of paper in his hands. "It's you and me."
(Y/N) smiled tenderly and looked at the drawing Kaeyoon had made for her.
"It's very nice, Yoonie, thank you very much for your gift, I'll hang it on my fridge," she said as she high-fived the boy. Then she looked at the drawing and looked doubtful. "And who is he? Is he your dad?" she asked, pointing to another figure in the drawing.
"No, that's Doctor Yuta, and he has hearts in his eyes because he's your boyfriend!" he exclaimed happily, causing (Y/N) to widen her eyes and then release a smile.
"But Yoonie~, Doctor Yuta is not my boyfriend," she replied, still laughing.
"Then can I be your boyfriend?” he asked skillfully.
"Oh, honey, I'm afraid you're too young for me," she replied with a smile.
"And when I get bigger?"
"Maybe when you're big," (T/N) continued. "But by then, you'll surely have found another girlfriend that will have your age."
"But you're the prettiest! Besides, I have to beat Doctor Yuta," he muttered.
"What do you have to beat me in?" another voice chimed in, and (Y/N)'s body reacted to it.
"In nothing."
"In being (Y/N)'s boyfriend," Kaeyoon and (T/N) replied in unison.
Yuta opened his mouth and pretended to be surprised. "So it's a competition?"
"Yoonie's just kidding," (T/N) said with a nervous smile. "You know how kids are, doctor."
"Look, doctor! I've made a drawing for you too," Kaeyoon exclaimed, changing the subject drastically, and it was the perfect opportunity for (Y/N) to awkwardly step away from there.
She wrapped the drawing in the paper and put it in the pocket of her pants before starting to check the checklist and see which child she should attend to. She stood at the desk for a few seconds, checking and arranging things until she felt a presence beside her, one that she could easily identify.
"So you have little kids falling for you," Yuta commented with a mocking smile.
(T/N) smiled nervously. "That's how kids are. Two weeks ago, he was in love with Nurse Mina."
"But he was right to fall for you," Dr. Yuta continued, and (T/N) let out a laugh followed by him. "Would you like to go for a coffee in your next break at the hospital cafeteria? I mean, it's not the most elegant thing, but I'd like to spend some more time with you."
(Y/N)'s cheeks turned crimson, and she nodded, smiling. "Oh yes, of course. I would love to."
"Maybe I might win you over Kaeyoon," Yuta said as he walked away from the desk.
_______________________________________________
Second month.
Week one, Thursday.
(Y/N) had been right two weeks ago. Sun Hee was suffering from colic, and according to the pediatrician, it was due to the formula Taeyong had been feeding her.
Taeyong instinctively felt like a bad father; he had been feeding his daughter something her little stomach seemed unable to tolerate. But how could he have known? He had to completely discard those formula cans from his pantry and replace them with the new formula the pediatrician had recommended, and soon, Sun Hee's discomfort was diminishing.
Even now, he could sleep a little more at night.
Along with the massages he had learned the night (Y/N) had helped him and a couple of other routines, Sun Hee's colic decreased.
(Y/N)…
Although Taeyong had assured not to take three weeks again to contact her, it seemed that Taeyong really wanted to leave her waiting. Not to misinterpret, it wasn't that he didn't want to call her and invite her for a coffee, but his life was busy, and his priority was his daughter instead of throwing flirty glances around.
Although he knew that a coffee was the least Taeyong could offer her in gratitude for that time at three in the morning, he simply couldn't muster the courage to pick up his damn phone and dial a few numbers. Besides, he didn't want to misread the signs; who would want to date a dad?
"You should just call her," Johnny advised as he watched his friend from the other side of the couch.
Sun Hee rested on her father's chest as he stared at his phone incessantly.
"I don't know, John," Taeyong replied with a sigh.
"How long has it been? Two weeks? You should have called her the next day."
"I don't want to pressure anything... maybe she's not interested."
"The girl came at three in the morning on a Tuesday, do you really think she wouldn't be even slightly interested?" Johnny asked incredulously.
"It was for Sun Hee, nothing else. She said she wouldn't mind helping with Sun Hee whenever she could," the younger one confessed, stroking his daughter's back.
"You should give yourself more credit, Lee Taeyong. You're a coveted and handsome man; being a dad now doesn't change how attractive you are."
"I was hoping she would be interested, not you," he joked, and Johnny contemplated throwing a pillow at him for a moment, but after seeing his niece on his friend's chest, he stopped.
"You'll never know if she has even a little interest if you don't call her. Plus, for the favor she did you, it's the least you can do."
Taeyong fell silent and sighed.
"I know, I'm aware of that," he replied, closing his eyes momentarily. "I'll keep considering it."
"You're stubborn," Johnny commented, rolling his eyes.
"Alright, alright. Get your ass up and come with me to the supermarket; Sun Hee finished her formula, and she needs more."
"Anything for my niece."
______________________________________________
“What do you think of this?” Johnny asked as he showed Taeyong a jar of baby food.
Taeyong turned around and snorted.
“Sun Hee still can't eat those things; besides, the doctor recommended that once Sunnie started trying food, I should prepare her purees myself. It's more natural,” the father shrugged, glancing at his daughter strapped to his chest in a baby carrier.
“Wow.”
“Wow what?”
“I never in my life imagined you playing the role of a dad,” Johnny commented with a half-smile.
His friend sighed and placed a can of formula in the shopping cart before sighing again.
“I didn't either, but Sun Hee came, and I'll try to be the best father she could have,“ he replied, smiling as he looked at his daughter. “ Everything happened very quickly, but Sunnie is a ray of sunshine.”
“She is!” Johnny agreed, then cleared his throat. “When are you going back to work? At the company, I mean.”
“John, this isn't the place to talk about that,” Taeyong said, pushing the cart.
“Taeyong, you know it has to happen. At some point in your life, you have to return to your usual routine. You can't work from home your whole life. Even the day will come when you have to go out and have fun too!”
“Johnny, stop”
“You know I'm right, Taeyong.”
The younger one sighed again. "I know, John, but now isn't the time for that. Sunnie is only two months old; the day will come when I can take her to the office without her getting irritated so quickly or the day when she's big enough to leave her in daycare."
“Just promise me you won't put your life completely on hold. I know Sunnie is your priority now, and some things change when you become a father, but please, also give yourself some time. If you ever need it, you can ask your mother to take care of her, I could even be Sun Hee's babysitter for a day!”
“I'd rather leave Sunnie with Doyoung and Jaehyun than with you,” Taeyong joked.
“Hey! How could you prefer to leave my niece with those two clowns? They can't even take care of themselves!”
Taeyong chuckled and continued pushing the shopping cart while considering what groceries to bring home.
“Okay, Johnny, I really appreciate it.”
His friend kept talking beside him, but he wasn't really paying attention. Instead, he was focusing on the items on the shelves and what he should take home, gently rocking Sun Hee to prevent her from crying right there.
He stopped somewhere between the cereal aisle and the canned goods, and upon hearing a child's laughter, he turned to his right, finding a very familiar face. The girl was about twenty steps away from him, with a smile on her face as she listened to what a little boy was saying to her.
Taeyong was confused; his brow furrowed as he looked sideways at the scene. Was that girl (Y/N)? If so, who was the boy next to her? His eyes widened; could he be her son? But what about that time at three in the morning? She wouldn't leave her child alone somewhere to go help another family... What if she had a husband and left him with him? Oh no, no, no, no.
“Taeyong?“ a female voice brought him back to reality, and he focused on the girl coming towards him with a confused expression, then smiling as she recognized him.
“ (Y/N), hi” he greeted, once she and the boy holding her hand were in front of him.
“ Of all the places we could run into each other, it has to be the supermarket” she commented, laughing softly.
Taeyong smiled. "Yes, Sunnie ran out of formula, so I had to come for more," he explained, pointing at his daughter.
“ Oh, I see. How's Sun Hee? I haven't heard from you since about two weeks ago,“ she inquired.
“She's been better; she had colics because her stomach couldn't handle the formula she was drinking. Now everything's fine.”
“I'm glad to hear that,“ (Y/N) noticed how Taeyong discreetly observed Jisung and spoke, “ Oh, yes, he's Jisung*. He's my nephew; I brought him to buy his favorite cereal, and he's staying over tonight.”
The guy felt the blood rushing back through his body and smiled warmly as he leaned slightly to look at the little boy.
“Hey, hi champ. I'm Taeyong, and she” he momentarily uncovered his daughter's face “ is Sun Hee.”
“Hi, Mr. I'm Jisung, and I'm this many,“ he held up his right hand, raising five fingers and showing them to Taeyong, who smiled tenderly.
“Oh, that's a lot. You're almost catching up to me.”
“Yeah, he’s almost your age” she laughed off.
In that brief moment, Taeyong and (Y/N) exchanged a few more words. The guy was distracted by her, now seeing her in a different light. He had seen her in her work clothes, then in pajamas when he called her at three in the morning, and now he saw her in a floral dress and a thin sweater covering her, with her hair loose and slightly wavy, and a bit of gloss on her lips.
She looked phenomenal. Actually, she looked phenomenal no matter what.
In nurse's attire, in pajamas, he was sure she would even look spectacular in a sack of potatoes because she just shone in every way.
However, his little and discreet admiration was interrupted when Johnny's voice called him abruptly.
“Hey, Taeyong. Look what I found; this would look cute on my niece” Johnny spoke, lightly tapping his back as he reached his side. Then he realized the situation and smiled sideways, “Oh, I didn't know you had found someone. I'm Johnny Suh, pleased to meet you” the blonde commented, extending his hand to the girl and giving a high-five to the little boy.
“She's (Y/N),” Taeyong said, fearing the worst.
“Oh.”
“ Nice to meet you, Johnny. I'm (Y/N). I was Sun Hee's nurse while she was in the hospital” she spoke kindly.
Johnny smiled playfully and turned to look at his friend, who was looking at him barely shaking his head.
Taeyong could expect anything from his friend, and that was what he feared the most.
“Oh, so you're the nurse Yong wanted to invite for coffee?“ he innocently asked.
“Johnny.”
“Hmm, I don't know” she responded with a little laugh, “Am I?”
“Excuse my friend; he's a very busy and absent-minded man” Johnny explained, receiving a small punch in his ribs from Taeyong, who smiled falsely and continued talking to the girl, “Isn't that right, Taeyong?”
“Yes, sorry for not calling you back after that night; I've just been taking care of Sun Hee and working at the company, so I didn't find the right moment to call you” Taeyong spoke with his head slightly bowed, feeling embarrassed.
“Oh, don't worry. I figured you'd be busy. No need to apologize; I completely understand” she assured him with a smile.
“But what a lovely girl! You better invite her for coffee; otherwise, I'll do it myself” Johnny encouraged while still smiling, causing (Y/N) to laugh.
“Johnny...”
“I was just kidding,“ he raised his arms in a sign of innocence, “but I'll leave you two alone; I heard there's a sale on floral detergent. I can't miss it!“ he exclaimed so that, without further ado, he walked away from the aisle and left both guys with both children, alone.
“I'm sorry, really. Sometimes Johnny can be... extra,” Taeyong apologized quickly, shaking his head with a smile, “but what he said is true; I wanted to invite you for coffee, but I couldn't find the right moment to call you. I'm sorry for taking so long.”
She smiled sideways and nodded slightly as she placed her hand on the guy's shoulder.
“It's okay. I waited for your call after you said you wouldn't take three weeks to call me this time,” she said, laughing, “but I figured you'd be busy, so no hard feelings.
“Is it still time for me to invite you?” he asked, his big eyes shining. (Y/N) nodded with her cheeks turning red, “How about Saturday afternoon? I know of a café not far from here, and they sell amazing muffins. I'm sure you'll like the place.”
“You've convinced me with the muffins.”
“Of course” Taeyong laughed. “I'll send you the location by text... this time, I'll do it.”
“I'll wait for your message then,” she said, nodding, then staying silent for a few seconds.
Should they say goodbye now? Should he wave his hand? Or leave a kiss on her cheek? They still didn't have the confidence for that, did they? Would it be weird if he did? How complicated everything is!
“Auntie, I want to go now,” the voice of a little boy took them out of their trance, and they changed their view to the kid.
“Oh, of course, my love. Have you had your cereal?” the girl asked, and Jisung nodded, “Okay, then we’ll go,” she assured him, then turned her gaze back to the boy and the little one on his chest, “it's been nice seeing you; give Sun Hee a kiss from me, have a good night.”
“See you on Saturday.”
“See you on Saturday, Taeyong.”
______________________________________________
The boy approached his car where Johnny was leaning against it, waiting for him. Taeyong gave him a dirty look, and the blond raised his arms as he opened the back door.
“Don't look at me like that! “ he pleaded with a smile “I did you a favor, dude!”
“Just don't say anything and put the stuff in the trunk” Taeyong ordered as he placed Sunnie in her car seat.
Johnny obeyed his friend's orders and began to put everything inside the car. After a few minutes, he returned to Taeyong's side, who had already settled Sun Hee comfortably and asleep in her car seat.
“Come on, help me get rid of this thing, it's stuck,” the brunette said as he tried to open one of the zippers of his baby carrier, struggling with it.
His friend approached him even closer and tried to help in a failed attempt; the zipper was stuck, and it didn't seem to want to open even with all the force in the universe.
“Let me try, don't move,” Johnny requested as he held his friend by the back and put one of his hands on the zipper of the carrier, “why won't it come out?”
“What a beautiful family!“ the exclamation of an older lady was heard, causing both boys to look at her. She was looking at them with a tender smile as she waved at them. Then they looked at each other and at their current position, prompting Taeyong to quickly push him away with his hands, and Johnny cleared his throat as he turned around.
“You get rid of that by yourself”
I’m sorry I took too long for posting this!! 😭
Taglist is open, just lemme know if u want to be added! You can ask me something if you want here!
Taglist: @geminiml95 @zooana @cathamada
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treausre-fiction · 2 days
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Fan Favorite; KHJ
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Y/N was a simple girl so to say . She had dreams just like any other girl in her 20s who enjoyed fangirling over different things whether that was the latest makeup release or her favorite KPOP group having a comeback , she lived a more simple life but still dreamed about her name being big in the stars . With a turn of events with a fan and celebrity line being crossed , Y/N finds herself in a 18 year long situation.
(YBSFN) - Your Best Friends Name
* Readers note ; Chapter 5 and onwards will now be containing more sm*t and darker content *
Chapter 5 ; Sweetheart
Still in disbelief that he was talking to you your mind felt like it was running trying to find a response .
“ (YBSFN) is just more of the social one , I just kinda lay back you know “ you murmured while looking at the floor .
You see Hongjoong shift his weight and squat down in front of you while meeting your eyes . Usually you felt embarrassed when talking to guys and always looking down at the floor .
“ I like eye contact when talking” he asserted while still keeping that same smile on his face . You always knew why he was the leader and how assertive he could be but even outside of being a leader his personality alone was so dominant.
The blonde hair , the smile , the jawline , his eyes … your mind wondered scanning his entire body seeing him this close to you .
“Y/N HELLO?!?! I’ve been calling you for the last 10 minutes” (YBSFN) nearly yelled . You snapped yourself out the trance you were in and walked over to her . (YBSFN) wasn’t stupid , she saw how Hongjoong was talking to you , the way you looked at him and truthfully she wasn’t gonna be a cockblock simple as that .
“Wooyoung told me their hotel isn’t too far from ours and we were gonna hang for a bit , you wanna come ? No pressure” (YBSFN) explained softly . That’s something you did appreciate about (YBSFN) is that she never pressured you .
Before she could say anything else you agreed to go .
That’s how you found yourself in the position you were in now . Between Kim Hongjoong and a wall and him in the crook of your neck in his hotel room . You hadn’t even had your first kiss yet before this and always pictured a fairytale first kiss but something about Hongjoong made you forget about all of that.
His scent almost felt addicting and touch lingered on your skin , maybe it was you being a virgin or him just knowing how to touch someone properly that had you hooked but you could care less right now .
“H-Hongjoong wait w-wait” you muttered while trying to suppress any other possible sounds from coming out of you. To be completely honest you were embarrassed to let out any moan so keeping your lip between your teeth was a lot easier. He looked up eyes slightly hazy which only made you feel more weak .
“Hmmm” he hummed
You debated saying the next words that came out your mouth but you also felt it was right to do .
“I haven’t.. never .. you know-“
“You’re a virgin?” He asked eyebrow half raised . Your silence enough was your answer.
“It’s okay , thank you for trusting me . If you get uncomfortable and want to change your mind it’s okay” he reassured stopping his movements . He felt genuine not like the frat guys they show in movies who make you feel bad for not sleeping with them.
In the back of your head you felt like you shouldn’t have been doing this but at the same time it only felt right .
He didn’t pressure you into doing anything for him for the first time , he wanted to only give to you . His words rang in your head the whole night
“No man will ever make you feel as good as I did tonight sweetheart”
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ahundredtimesover · 10 months
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Hi 👋🏽 I’ll be going on an indefinite break that may (or may not) be for good.
Writing fanfiction was an escape for me these past 2 years. It was a way to express my love for the tannies in how I wrote them as comfort characters, and it was a way for me to make sense of my own experiences and emotions. These fics have always been very personal, with a bit of me in every OC, my pains reflected in their stories, and words I wish someone told me growing up expressed in the dialogues. And I’ll always be so thankful that many of you related with them, found meaning in them, and found comfort in them. That will always be my favorite part 💜💜 stories are so powerful! They’ve allowed me to connect with so many people and make memories in this (mostly) lovely part of the site.
But the process of writing has also been draining, not as cathartic as it used to be, and not as fulfilling. So much as I find myself going back and forth with the numerous stories in my drafts, I can’t bring myself to continue with them. Not anytime soon, at least. Maybe one day the itch to write will be so intense, or JJK1/KTH1 drops and I’ll lose my shit (Untitled and Belong were born out of Indigo and D-day after all), or after rereading my stories, I’ll miss writing so much. The thing is, I’ve never loved BTS as much as I do right now; perhaps I’m content with screaming about that love to myself in the meantime.
I’ll be lurking around here, maybe pop in every once in a while (so plagiarists, keep off my work, pls). My stories will remain here as your comfort 😌 and I’ll do my best to put out the PLM drabbles I promised! Other than that, all the stories are complete for you to enjoy (sorry to those waiting on TLA 😔 I hate that I’m unable to continue). I also have Twitter (jmimi_mi). I’m also just a lurker but say hi if you want! 😊 we can talk bts and fics and whatnot over there (I’ll try, I promise).
Please give love to the authors who are still lovingly putting out work for the community! 🥰
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thasorns · 1 year
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But from what I’ve seen, he already tries and works so hard. - Cause he has you who always spoils him, that’s why he’s like this. — Parents about Waan
Working is not fun. If you have the chance to live your life, then do it. Work is not going anywhere. You should let it go sometimes. — Waan to Win
I’m not gonna stop you, if you wanna help. But I just don’t want you to give up on your dreams. Don’t want anybody to force you to do this and that. — Win to Wiew
Dad! In case you didn’t know, Waan was gone all night because he was dealing with the issues at the resort. I promised Hia Win that when I grew up, we’ll help each other to run the resort. But now, I wish it could go bankrupt. I’m also curious, if you don’t have that stupid hotel would you gonna be the old dad we used to have? — Wiew to his father
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