#I would bet money it's intentional | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

buckyalpine · 7 months

Note

hey shay! what do you think about steve and sam betting that bucky cannot date the newest avenger for like two months without falling in love with her. and, of course, he accepts, and asks her out, all in the hopes of winning.

(plot twist: he is a dumbass and a fucking simp because he falls hella hard in like the first month. she’s basically his soulmate and his dream girl. absolutely perfect. he dreams of their marriage and children and cannot wait to make it a reality. and steve and sam are beyond happy for him, and the three decide never to speak of the bet ever again.)

but fast forward to their first anniversary together, and she finds out that the only reason why bucky ever paid any attention to her, and asked her out, was because of the bet. and it leaves her absolutely heartbroken and destroyed, to the point that she debates asking for a transfer. because of course the only way the legendary sergeant james buchanan barnes would ever notice her is because of a bet. pfft! how big of an idiot she is!

(and we see bucky do some seriously grovel. because he cannot lose the love of his life. his baby. his everything. his sunshine in the dark. the reason for his existence.)

maybe steve and sam join in to help him? because they adore her as well, and they know how much bucky needs her.

YESSSS YES YESSSSS. I am here for the angst and the fluff, I love this because we all love a break up make up situation.

"100 bucks"

"No"

"Okay, 150"

"Why are we doing this"

"200"

"...why"

"Because we know for a fact, there's no way you'd be able to date the new recruit for two full months-

"-without falling in love, you can't actually fall for her"

Sam and Steve looked at Bucky intently while the soldier cocked an eyebrow, the three of them lounging in the common room after a morning briefing to meet their newest team mate.

"You're both willing to pay me $200 just to date y/n without falling in love?" Bucky deadpanned staring at his two best friends, both with matching shit eating grins.

"What's wrong Barnes, scared you'll get your wittle heart broken?" Sam egged him on only to be met with a cocky smirk from the brunette.

"That's not a problem because I don't date" Bucky shrugged, happy to win easy money if all he had to do was ask the new girl out and date her for a bit without actually catching feelings.

He was never really the relationship type; the charm he used to have in the 40's was slowly making its way back and it was perfect for when he needed a quick fix. Long term was never his thing and he wasn't about to start now but he also wasn't going to turn down a bet when his friends seemed so keen.

Besides, his pride was on the line and it was only two months.

"So let me get this straight. I date her for 2 months-"

"No falling in love with y/n"

"-no falling in love and you pay me?"

Sam and Steve nodded while Bucky got up, shaking their hands to seal the deal. He already mapped out a plan to ask the new girl out, mentally deciding on an easy break up speech for when the inventible comes.

"Two months white panther"

"Wolf"

"Two months"

"Easy"

****

Bucky knew he was screwed after the first date. Just the first date. When he first asked her out, she gave him a shy giggle and he knew he wanted to hear that sound again. And again. And again. She gave him a little nod, shuffling on her feet and for a moment, Bucky regained his confidence. There was no way he'd have anything in common with someone so shy and quiet, winning the best was going to be a breeze.

Until she came down in a sun dress, ready to go out for for their date and she smelled like peaches and cream and there was that fucking giggle again when he got ice cream on his nose when they shared a sundae. Her hands were so soft when she swiped her thumb over his little mess, cleaning him off with a tissue while he blinked.

"You're so adorable, sarge" She gave him a bashful smile and his cheeks couldn't have possibly blushed more, his heart beating strangely fast. He wasn't really too sure what to do, usually it was him making girls turn into puddles of shy messes but her he was, more tongue tied that ever.

He wasn't sure what it was.

Maybe it was the fact that she asked him about the 40's, something he rarely got to talk about. Maybe it was the way she listened to him intently while he got lost in his memories, recalling happier times, the both of them laughing over stories about scrawny Steve before the serum. He'd been on plenty of dates before but none of them were like this.

(It didn't matter though, his main goal never left his sight...not really)

He asked her out again and he immediately put his hand to his stomach when she showed up in her workout clothes since he'd offered to train with her before their scheduled date. He'd fully intended to take control over the situation, gain the upper hand again by making her all sweet and shy with his subtle touches but nope.

Here he was with butterflies dancing madly around his tummy when she smiled brightly as soon as she walked through the gym doors; his train of thought long gone when as she dropped her towel beside his. He flipped her with ease, her much smaller form blinking up at him as he caged her under him. He didn't even have it in him to throw her a wink or a flirty smirk, giving her soft puppy eyes instead and helping her to her feet.

To his own surprise, he didn't even try to make a move to get her in bed.

He couldn't.

Not when he was genuinely enjoying conversation with her. Not when she looked at him with such trust and care not to break her heart. Not after she'd confided in him that she felt safe with him after about a month of dating. Bucky's mind, which was usually filled with filth and fucking was now filled with thoughts of her in a pretty white dress, walking down the aisle, ready to say I do. He thought about how adorable their babies would look, how beautiful she'd look pregnant, she was his dream girl, how he couldn't wait for the day it'd all really happen, he was falling in love for the first time in his life-

He. Was. Screwed.

****

"M'gonna marry her"

"What"

"What?" Bucky blinked back at his friends with wide eyes, not realizing he'd said that out loud; the three of them sitting around the living room again since you had gone out for a girls night with Nat and Wanda.

"Come again, what was that?" Sam grinned, sitting up straighter from where he'd been sprawled out on the floor while Steve nudged Bucky with his shoulder.

"Nothing" Bucky mumbled but the blush on his cheeks spread up to his ears.

"AWWWW" Sam howled while Bucky buried his face in his hands, "BUCKY HAS A CRUSH"

"You like her, huh punk" Steve grinned, not needing verbal confirmation from his best friend; both him and Sam saw the way Bucky started falling for you from day 1, not standing a chance of winning their bet.

"I do" Bucky smiled shyly, not bothering with a snarky retort, not when he'd fallen so hard for you the second he heard your laugh. No one bothered to bring up the bet again, the entire thing long forgotten. Sam and Steve couldn't have been happier when they saw Bucky's eyes light up every time he looked at you. You'd tumbled into the living room along with Nat and Wanda behind you, giggling and falling into the soldiers lap, nuzzling into him like a kitten between tipsy kisses.

Sam could've sworn he saw Steve flick away a tear, the both of them watching Bucky grin like a little kid with the biggest crush, melting into a puddle instantly with you in his arms.

"Hey Sarge" You gave him a hazy smile, sighing contently when he kissed your forehead and scooped you right up, holding you to his chest. "Missed you"

"Let's get you to bed babygirl" Bucky whispered, carefully taking care of you, changing you into one of his Henley's and completing your skin care routine since you couldn't in your drunken state. He kissed you good night, pulling the covers up and holding you close to him the entire night.

Nothing compared to the soft puppy he became whenever you were near him and it wasn't exactly a well kept secret. No one failed to notice the way he was head over heels in love with you. With each passing day Bucky loved you more, doing everything in his power to keep you happy, to protect you with his entire heart, there's was no way, absolutely no way, he'd every do anything to hurt you or lose you.

Ever.

One Year Later

You stretched, blinking at the sun that peeked through the curtains, feeling extra warm, cuddled up with you boyfriend who was the human form of a furnace. You were in no hurry to get out of bed, burying your face into his bare chest instead, breathing in his scent, humming contently when his thick arms wrapped you impossibly closer.

"Happy anniversary my love" Bucky whispered, his eyes still closed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He couldn't believe a full year had gone by since you'd stolen his heart. A full year filled with kisses and giggles and softness. There wasn't a day that had gone by where Bucky wasn't a complete simp for you (he'd picked out a wedding ring within month three and had it hidden somewhere in his room by month 6).

"Happy anniversary handsome" You kissed his chest where his heart beat steadily, giggling when he pinned you under him, attacking you with a flurry of feathery light kisses, "Bucky stop!" You squealed with laugher as he wrapped you tightly and let his scruffy cheeks tickle your shoulders, the both of you tangled in his sheets, having a lazy morning.

"I love you" He whispered into your hair, sneakily slipping his hands up your over sized shirt, his cool metal fingers stroking down your spine making you shiver. "So much, bella"

"I love you, Jamie" Your cheeks heated up and the sweet name he had just for you, only reluctantly getting out of bed after Nat had practically dragged you out of bed to go shopping. You didn't want to do anything but cuddle with Bucky all day but the red head didn't care, happily evading your privacy to barge into the room and whisk you away, throwing back a wink when Bucky mouthed a silent thank you.

Bucky had planned out the perfect anniversary, something he'd thought out for weeks. The compound would be empty so it would just be the two of you; he'd cook dinner himself, have some songs playing from the 40's with a juke box he'd managed to get his hands on and spent the entire night letting you know how deeply in love he was with you. He didn't care how cheesy it was, buying out an entire florist shop to cover the room and terrace with your favorite flowers, having some suspended from the high ceilings along with petals strewn on the floor.

He'd pull out all the rom com stops for you, giving everyone a task to keep you busy so he could set up for the night. Nat had been tasked with keeping you away until evening, only bringing you back in time for dinner. Sam and Steve spent the whole day hanging and putting up flowers, lighting candles and listening to Bucky ramble about how much he adored you. Tony worked on lighting and sound, tinkering with the music and setting it up outside.

To say you were surprised was an understatement. Nat had blind folded you as soon as you got back and instructed you to put on the dress that had been laid out in your room. You had no idea what she was talking about until you found a floor length gown along with a note sitting on top of your bed.

See you at 8 tonight my bella

Happy 1 year Anniversary,

Yours forever,

JBB x

You didn't waste a second, hopping into the shower, doing your makeup and spraying on your perfume that you knew he loved so much. You slipped the dress on along with some heels before making your way down to the now dimmed lights, the soft glow of candles warming the room.

You gasped as soon as your eyes landed on Bucky, standing head to toe in all black, a dashing smile on his face. He strode over to you, cupping your cheeks in his hands, pecking your lips sweetly, the scent of his cologne already making you woozy.

"You did all this for me?" You blinked back tears, his thumbs swiping them away .

"Anything for you doll" Bucky whispered, pulling you in for another kiss before leading you to the garden; a trail of rose petals covering the floor to the back terrace. Fairly lights twinkled, mixed in with the tiny stars that dotted the night sky; you didn't bother with sitting in your own seat, sitting in Bucky's lap instead while your both sipped on champagne.

It didn't take long for him to swoop you off your feet so he could sway with you instead, music playing softly in the background while he whispered sweet nothings, only sitting down again so he could feed you the dessert he'd spend the whole afternoon making for you.

"I can't believe you did all this for me Bucky" You said sincerely, holding his face in your hands, gazing into his soft blue eyes, "You're perfect my Jamie"

"You're my perfect gift doll"

"Oh! I have to get you your gift!" You realized you'd left it in your room between a spoon of chocolate cake Bucky was feeding you, hopping up from his lap to get it. You scurried off to your room, giddy over the present you'd put together for Bucky, the whole gift taking months of planning to get everything to come in time. You rummaged through your closet, grabbing the carefully wrapped box and returning to the hall, excited to see his face when he opened his present.

You passed by Steve's room stopping dead in your tracks at the words you heard, your feet suddenly unable to move.

"Can you believe this all started over betting he'd never fall for y/n?" Sam snorted, sitting on the couch in Steve's room, the both of them munching on the scraps of chocolate cake and sipping on beer while watching a movie.

"All over 200 bucks, remember he was so sure of himself"

You felt like you'd swallowed cotton, your mouth dry, finding it difficult to swallow. You wanted to turn back time, wishing you'd never heard that conversation, or maybe it was all a misunderstanding, Bucky would never do that, not your Bucky.

"Didn't you tell him he'd only have to date her for 2 months?"

"2 months and 200 dollars, terminator shook on it"

"He even had a break up speech ready"

You gripped tightly onto the present, dashing away from the room, unable to bear more of the conversation. Your heart was hammering out of your chest as you shakily made your way back to Bucky, it just couldn't be true.

Could it?

Did he really only ask you out because his friends made a bet with him?

Bucky smiled when he saw you return, opening his arms for you to slink onto his lap again. His smile disappeared when you kept your eyes down, fumbling with the gift in your hand, staying rooted in place in front of him instead of cuddling up with him like you always did.

"Baby? Is everything okay?" Bucky got up from his seat, carefully making his way over to you. He tipped your face up, surprised to find your eyes wet with unshed tears, the corners of your lips quivering with how hard you were trying to keep from crying.

"You-you promise you'll be honest with me?" You tried to keep your voice from cracking, afraid everything you'd imagined with Bucky would come crashing down if what you heard was true.

"Of course" Bucky felt his heart race seeing your glassy eyes and broken expression, what could have possibly happened in the few seconds you were gone "Bella, what's wrong"

"Did you only ask me out because of a bet?" You tried to keep from sniffling, your heart breaking at the guilt that immediately spread across Bucky's face.

"Doll, I-

"So it's true?" You whimpered, stepping away from the man you loved so much, feeling a whirlwind of emotions, the gift you clutched onto slipping from your grip and onto the floor, "It was just a bet with Sam and Steve?"

"Baby, please let me explain-" Bucky wanted nothing more than to reach out and wipe away the tears he caused, his own streaming down his cheeks when you moved further away from him.

"Please don't" You shook your head, wrapping your arms around yourself, not wanting to feel his touch you knew you'd instantly melt into. "Just don't James"

Bucky was ready to drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness, beg for you to call him all the sweet names reserved just for him but you dashed back into the compound, slapping your hand over your mouth to muffle your sobs.

"Sweetheart wait, please don't go, just let me explain baby, I love you so much" Bucky trailed after you, quickly swiping his dampened cheeks, catching you in the elevator just before it closed. "Y/n, I love you doll, I'm sorry, it started that way but-

"It's not your fault" You quickly wiped away the new wave of tears that stung your eyes, desperately pushing the button to take you to your room faster, "I-I should've known you wouldn't have been into me in the first place"

"Y/n, that's not true sweetheart, don't say that baby, please"

"I thought you really liked me, I-I didn't know someone had to pay you to date me"

You felt stupid, ridiculous, ashamed, how did you ever think someone like Bucky, the handsome ladies man from day one, would suddenly be into you, some random new trainee turned avenger. You weren't special, nothing about you stood out from others, there was no reason for him to give you attention.

It all made sense now, your heart splitting into two, biting hard on your lip to keep your cries down, you couldn't believe how stupid you'd been to think he actually liked you from the start.

"No baby, you had me from day one-"

"P-please don't l-lie to m-me" You hiccupped, making a bee line straight to you room as soon as the elevator doors opened, not looking back once. You locked your door before Bucky could catch up, ignoring his persistent soft knocks, begging for you to give him a chance to explain.

"Y/n, bella, please, open the door sweetheart, I love you, I promise truly love you so much, I'm so sorry baby, I need to talk to you, please" Bucky sniffled, his forehead pressed to your door in defeat, now letting the tears fall freely. He stayed rooted in place, slumping down with his head between his knees, running his hands through his short locks in frustration. The only thing he cared about was making you happy and he was the one who screwed it up.

You clutched onto your sheets, trembling as sobs wracked your body, thinking back to all the moments you thought were so sweet, moments where you thought you were both falling in love, now realizing they were nothing more than a ploy to get $200.

You remembered your first date, thinking about how cute Bucky looked with a tiny dollop of ice cream on his perfect nose, how nervous you were to swipe it off, your heart racing when you told him he looked adorable. It took every fiber of your very being to muster the courage to do that but it had meant nothing to him.

You had been stupid to think he liked you too when he asked you out again; you remembered the way your entire body felt like it had been lit on fire when he had you pinned you under him, growing bashfully shy when he helped you up onto your feet, everything a part of his plan to eventually dump you.

You felt ridiculous. You were not gorgeous like Natasha or enhanced like Wanda. What made you think the very Sergeant James Barnes would have his eye on you of all people.

You should have known.

"Do you hear that?" Steve paused the movie, hearing a muffled cry from the corridor, his brows furrowing at the sniffles that followed. Sam nodded with a frown, both men getting up and peering into the hallway, surprised to find the super soldier sitting against your door, eyes and nose red from crying.

"Bucky?" Steve was by his best friends side in an instant, kneeling before him, helping him up to onto his feet.

"What happened, where's y/n" Sam blinking hearing crying from inside your room, his stomach churning when Bucky shrugged, chewing on his trembling lip to keep from breaking down again. Bucky let Steve lead him into his room, sitting on the edge of the bed, gripping onto the sheets till they nearly tore.

"What the hell happened Buck"

"She found out bout the bet" Bucky whispered, fresh tears streaming down his face when he remembered how defeated you looked with betrayal. "She knows I asked her out because of it"

"Fuck" Sam hissed while Steve ran a hand over his face. They felt equally responsible for hurting you for having suggested the bet in the first place, also piecing together you must have over heard them when they were talking earlier. Steve was sick with guilt while Sam also slumped onto the couch, all three men feeling awful for hurting you.

"Did you talk to her?"

"She doesn't want to even look at me" Bucky shook his head before burying his face in his hands again, unable to stop from crying; there was a good chance he lost you forever and it was his fault.

"Just-just give her some time" Steve threw an arm over Bucky, while mentally hitting himself for being part of the mess, hoping you'd forgive his best friend who was deeply and utterly in love with you.

You woke up with a throbbing headache, staying in bed for longer than usual. You felt more embarrassed than the night before realizing others must have known the true nature of your relationship with Bucky. Not only did Bucky not really like you in the first place but he'd only even looked your way because he was sure he wouldn't fall for you.

You kept to yourself for the first few days. You'd managed to wake up earlier than everyone else so you could eat breakfast and train alone, only to eat dinner extra late after everyone had gone to sleep. It wasn't difficult given your skill set; you slinked about undetected, evading the other avengers every time they knocked on your door to check on you.

Bucky tried to find you every single day, spending each night falling asleep by your door, ignoring the worsening kink in his neck, hoping he'd get get to see you just once, one time so he could at least apologize to you properly.

Two full weeks had gone by and you some how only felt worse. You hated hearing Bucky cry when you walked by his room but then you'd remember what he did and you couldn't bring yourself to trust him again.

Bucky was a mess. He missed you more than anything; you were his baby, his soul mate, his beautiful sweet bella. He would've given anything just to see you walk down the hall way, anything to hear your voice even if it was you telling him off like he deserved. He wanted you to yell and scream at him, tell him what at ass hole he was, that he was the biggest jerk on the planet, that you hated him, he'd listen to it like it was music if he just got to see you again.

He got his hopes up when a new mission came up requiring all hands on deck; Tony called for a sudden meeting with the full team which meant everyone had to be there. Bucky ran off to the showers within seconds, scrubbing himself with body wash he knew you loved so much before throwing on a tight black t-shirt and jeans that made you all shy and giggly. He knew he was playing dirty, leaving the scuff on his face before spraying on a dash of cologne.

He had to look his best, even if it meant you'd throw your cute little kitten mug at his head. He nervously ran to the conference room, eyes flicking to each individual, his heart dropping when he didn't see you there.

"Damn Barnes" Tony whistled while Steve smiled sadly knowing his bestfriend was hoping to see you. "Who'd you clean up for"

"Where's y/n" Bucky's eyes were pleading with everyone, hoping someone would say you were just running late or that you weren't taking part in the mission.

"She's....she's at the head office" Tony sighed, "She wants a transfer"

"Damn it" Sam had now sat up while Bucky left the room with Steve following behind him. "He needs her, he really loves her"

"I-I can't lose her" Bucky sobbed, shaking his head, clutching onto the card you had given him on your anniversary. He'd read every word 100 times over, memorizing it to heart, careful not to crush the paper as he pressed it to his chest. "She's everything to me"

"Look, it's out fault too. We're the ones who suggested the stupid thing, we'll get her back" Steve gave him a reassuring squeeze and Sam nodded.

"I feel like shit man, the whole thing was meant to be a dumb joke, we love her too, we're not just gonna let her leave like this, not our y/n, okay? That's our girl"

"C'mon, lets go get your girl back, punk"

You frowned as you entered through the main doors of the compound, finding it unusually quiet when everyone should have been at home since they'd just gotten back from their mission. You felt conflicted after your meeting with Fury and Agent Hill, both of them asking you to reconsider your request to transfer. You told them you'd think about it but you were certain over your decision.

You couldn't face the team any more and your were too embarrassed to look at Bucky again. You didn't mind working in the office and starting over, figuring that would be the best way to mend your heart.

You made your way up to your room, a little red envelope sitting on your pillow catching your attention. You were wary as you opened it, your breath catching in your throat as you recognized the handwriting.

To my first and only love,

I don't deserve someone as sweet as you, but I can't bear the thought of you thinking I don't love you with my entire being. I know I don't deserve a second chance, but I need you to know it was always real.

Always.

I've kept it will hidden but it's time for you to see. It's in my favorite hiding spot for your eyes only.

With all the hugs and kisses in the worlds,

JBB

You knew exactly what spot Bucky was referring to, thinking back to the early days of when you were dating. On more than one occasion, Bucky had grabbed you into his closet, shutting the door when he wanted a few extra moments of privacy before a mission, showering you with 100's of kisses before eventually getting caught and dragged down to the hangar with a bashful grin on his face.

You reluctantly made your way to his room, letting out the breath you were holding when he wasn't inside. The scent of him alone already caused you to feel butterflies but you ignored them as you looked in the closet, finding a shoe box with another red envelope sitting on top for you to read.

To my sweet bella,

You had my heart from day one. You were never supposed to see any of this but you have to know. It's always been you.

Forever and only yours,

JBB

You sat on the floor of the closet as you carefully opened the box, inspecting its contents. Inside was an old, weathering diary with a receipt stuffed in the middle as a bookmark. You opened the page that was marked, surprised to find the receipt from the ice cream place you where you had your first date, the date of the entry a few days before he asked you out.

A new team mate has joined the group. Her name is y/n, y/l/n. She specializes in hand to hand combat and is a trained spy. Tony introduced us to everyone today. I wouldn't mind being her friend but I hope she isn't afraid of me, maybe she's just shy.

The next entry was from the day Sam and Steve made the bet

I doubt I'll forget this but I'm writing it down anyway. 2 months for 200 dollars. Seems stupid but what's the worst that could happen, it's not like she'd actually fall for me anyway.

Then there was the entry after your first date.

She's probably one of the sweetest people I've ever met; I don't want to forget this day, bet or not. She wore a sun dress and she laughed at all my jokes. She called me adorable. Her hands felt so soft. I'm sure its in her nature to be so kind but I wish it was just for me. Maybe I'll ask her out again.

A few days later.

I swear I'm falling in love with her more and more each day and she doesn't even have a clue. I don't know how to show her she's special to me, you'd think I'd be better at this. I hope one day she feels the same way.

And then

I love her. So much. Ma would have loved her. I hope one day she says yes.

You let out a wet laugh at the entries became sappier, each one detailing how hard he was falling for you, all the little details of your dates filling the pages, your heart breaking when you realized he wrote as much as he could remember so he'd never forget. He didn't mention the bet in any of the pages because he'd forgotten about it completely, fully focused on making you officially his.

The diary was sacred to him, a private place where he recounted his most precious memories, the one thing he'd never share with anyone but he decided to share it with you because you had to know. It was one of the few places he poured his heart and soul into with no filter, some of his darkest memories scrawled onto the pages but after he'd met you, it changed. Page after page filled with nothing but sweetness, pure and untainted love. You wiped the tears away, carefully placing the diary back in its proper hiding spot before making your way downstairs hoping to find him.

You found a trail of petals that hadn't been there earlier leading to the living room, walking to a very remorseful looking Sam, Steve and of course Bucky, all three men clutching onto teddy bears along with a blanket fort hoisted up in front of the large TV screen.

"What-what is all this?" You whispered, hesitantly walking towards them with Sam stepping forward first, wrapping you up in a bone crushing hug.

"We're really sorry sweetheart" Sam murmured into your hair, hugging you tightly against him, "we never wanted to hurt you, we love you baby, truly"

"You're special to us darling" Steve came over next, pressing a firm kiss to your head, his large arms holding you in a comforting embrace, "We're idiots, you didn't deserve that, don't leave because of us sweetheart, it's not the same without you"

"It's-its okay"

"It's not, we know it isn't but just know we really do love you, okay? Especially him" Steve whispered the last part with a small smile, looking over to his best friend who was anxiously shuffling on his feet, clutching the largest bear in his hands.

You hugged onto the two little teddies from Sam and Steve, kissing their cheeks before they quietly left you and Bucky alone for some privacy. You set them down on the sofa, suddenly feeling nervous when it was just you and Bucky, anxiety and embarrassment attempting to claw its way back up again.

"I'm so sorry bella" Bucky hesitantly reached out for you, scared you'd pull away, relief flooding his body when you allowed him to pull you in for a hug. "My pretty girl, m'so sorry, I didn't mean for it to happen baby"

"You-you really liked me after?" you felt silly for asking such a thing but you couldn't help it, you had to know, your soft doe eyes pleading with him to be honest with you, "You don't have to lie Bucky, it's okay if you didn't-

"You're breakin' my heart babygirl, of course I did. Of course I liked you sweets, I fell hard and fast for you, it would've happened with or without that stupid bed. I wouldn't have been able to resist that smile or that laugh, nothing would've kept me away from you"

Bucky scooped you into his arms and sat you down on his lap and he settled under the blanket fort, keeping you straddled on him while his hands wrapped around your waist.

"Believe me when I say you're the only girl I've ever fallen for, the only one I've ever wanted. I never ever wanted to hurt you baby and I'll spend the rest of my life making sure you never cry again, if you'd have me. I hate seeing you cry sweets, especially because of me. I just want to love you baby, please?"

His voice cracked at the end, bottom lip quivering as he nervously traced his thumbs along your hips. What if he lost you forever, he wouldn't know what to do with himself, not when he adored you so much.

"I love you y/n, you're my dream girl, my everything, no one else comes even close-"

You cut off his rambling, smashing your lips against his, a soft sob slipping past his lips between kisses as he desperately clung onto you.

"Do-do you forgive me?" Bucky sniffled, breathing out a sigh of relief when you pressed your forehead against his, nodding and slinging your arms around his shoulders. "Please say it angel, I-fuck-I'm so sorry, I missed you so much"

"I forgive you" you whispered, squeaking when Bucky pulled you to cuddle into the pile of pillows and blankets he'd laid out, wanting nothing more than to kiss and cuddle you between cute cheesy rom coms you loved so much. He smiled at the giggles you let out as he attacked you with unrelenting kisses again, breathing in your scent and feeling your body finally wrapped up with his again.

"I missed you so much angel"

"Missed you to Jamie" You kissed his nose, caressing his face as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck, knowing Sam and Steve were probably creeping from some corner. "I love you"

"Love you more bella" Bucky smiled, letting you pick a movie, pulling a fluffy blanket up to cover you both. "Loved you from day one"

2K notes · View notes

bluetimeombre · 3 months

Text

ׂ╰┈➤ She’s like a shot of Espresso

You work in a coffee shop and suddenly Jacob is a coffee enthusiast

This man has been appearing in my dreams, he’s just begging for my attention. Btw I totally don’t work in a coffee shop…

ׂ╰┈➤

Teenpopbuzz: we've found jacbobelordi favourite coffee spot! the actor has been seen visiting there on three separate occasions

304k likes 211k comments

user: hubba hubba

user: so princess diana coded

user: he's so pretty

user: breaking, jacobelordi goes to coffee shop THREE times

user: daddy

user: babe,,, come back, the children miss you

user: what i would do to be a coffee cup and sit between his lips

user: help someone said he's princess diana coded

ׂ╰┈➤

Jacob was not a nervous person. He never got nervous and never felt awkward. But this was a trip to the coffee shop he'd frequented and he'd slowly started to get the shakes before every time. What the hell was wrong with him?

He knew what was wrong with him, his friends knew what was wrong with him. He had a crush. A crush on the pretty barista who served him every time.

The cafe had only been opened an hour but he was there and so were you. He realised you were there most days, with a smile and style.

The bell over the door dinged as he walked in and as you finished serving your customer. It was all quiet inside as he strode to the counter.

'Hi,' you smiled as the other customer walked away.

'How you doing?' he asked politely.

'I'm good, your usual?'

He grinned. 'You know it already.'

'Of course. Any plans today?' he knew you were probably just making conversation, but it still felt nice to talk to you.

'Nothing much, just got this book I want to finish.'

'Oh yea? What you reading?'

'Grapes of Wrath,' he said. He moved along the counter with you, keeping conversation.

'You know if you like Steinbeck you should try East of Eden, it's my favourite book.'

'Really?'

You went into describing the book and he listened intently, smiling at you as you got excited over the book. He came in with his own prompts too.

‘Sorry, im keeping up,’ You apologized, sliding his coffee over.

‘No please, I love to hear it. I’ve got nothing much on.’

‘Finishing a Book, very important business,’ You tell him.

When another customer walked in, it was his cue to leave, slowly and looking back at you like one hundred times.

Jacob opened the door, calling to you one more time, completely ignoring the customer that was there. ‘I’ll see you soon!’

You smile and blush.

ׂ╰┈➤

liked by… yourusername, sydney_sweeney, enews, tchalamet & others

Jacobelordi: I’ve heard East of Eden is a good read

1m likes 782k comments

user: aesthetic king

user: he’s so pretty

user: babygurl

user: 😍😍

user: I will bet so much money that’s from the coffee shop he likes or something

user: he’s so bf!!! I need him

user: he was written by a woman people!!!

user: how is he so gorgeous!!

user: I am free and single to hang out on Thursday Jacob, I’ll be free Thursday for us to date if you are free on Thursday

user: I want you

user: he so cute fr

liked by… yourfriend, yourfriend, yourfriendsfriend and jacobelordi

Yourusername: oh no!!! I’m posting my three favorite things! Coffee, books and books! Hope a cute guy who has an affinity for these things doesn’t slide into my dms

105likes 20comments

yourfriend: she’s cute

yourfriend: ur so cool urg!!!

yourfriend: the caption, ur so iconic 😭😭

user: jacobelordi follows her?!?

ׂ╰┈➤

Jacobelordi started following yourusername

Yourusername started following jacobelordi

ׂ╰┈➤

Yourusername DMS

Jacobelordi: 📚

Jacobelordi: oh no, I accidentally tripped and dropped all my classics full of my annotations with all my interesting ideas and thoughts

ׂ╰┈➤

Jacob had a mission.

Your cafe was busier by the time he got in around lunch. It had been a busy week and beside talking to you through instagram, there hasn’t been much chance of a chance to see you.

So boy was he gonna see you today. And he had a plan.

He walked in and couldn’t immediately see you but saw your co-workers, another guy and another girl at the counter. He lingered around. What if you weren’t working today? But he was sure you were, you were always in on this day.

He caught sight of you, talking to a couple out for lunch and he smiled, tapping the book in his pocket.

After you left them to eat their lunch, you strode over. He noticed the blush on your cheeks, he’s hoped you’d be just as nervous.

��Hey,’ he smiled as you slid behind the counter.

Your co-workers wondered away, clearly trying to make it look as if they weren’t listening.

‘I actually brought something for you,’ he said, suddenly wanting to hide behind his cap.

‘For me?’

With a grin, he slid over Grapes of Wrath. ‘It’s my copy, annotated and that. I just thought you might like to read it.’

‘Oh my god, thank you!’ You practically caressed the book. ‘It’s so funny cause I actually have something for you-‘ then, you pulled out east of Eden. ‘My copy. Not quite annotated but there’s a line or two underlined.’

‘Oh woah,’ the two of you laugh about it, thumbing though the pages.

Finally, Jacob knew he had to ask. He couldn’t not. ‘Maybe, if you’re free- and if you’re up to it, we could meet up and chat about it- and other things of course.’

You watch, blushing.

‘A date!’ He suddenly announced. ‘I’m asking you out on a date.’

You nod. ‘I would love to go on a date with you, just let me know when, you have my number.’

Confused, his brows furrowed until you helped him. You flicked open the cover and on the first page of the book, your number was scribbled.

And he knew, he was in bad.

ׂ╰┈➤

Teenpopbuzz: new couple alert?! Jacobelordi has been spotted out and about with a mystery girl a few times now, could this be his new lucky woman?!

856k likes 445k comments

user: that should be me!!! Holding your hand!!

user: omg they’re so cute!!

user: isn’t this yourusername, who works in the cafe?

user: he’s literally just taking pictures of her, it’s so cute!!!

user: she better sleep with one eye open

user: I’m in love with them

user: he looks happy eeeekk

user: yourusername

user: ok I’ve stalked yourusername, she works in the cafe he’s been seen at

user: they’re so cute

user: I like the dog

liked by… yourusername, florencepugh, emmachamberlian & tchalamet

Jacobelordi: six months of free coffee! Thank you my love x

tagged: yourusername

1.1m likes 802k comments

user: AHHHHHHHH

user: he made it official!!!!

user: my parents!

user: she’s actually so pretty wtf

user: I can’t tell who i want to be more

user: the fact they met through the cafe she works at, talk about meet cute

user: telling my kids this is Romeo and Juliet

user: omg the free coffee comment, hahahah

user: do you think she’s seen saltburn?

yourusername: <3

#jacob elordi #nate jacobs #felix #felix x reader #jacob x reader #jacob imagine #saltburn #cafe aesthetic #imagines

847 notes · View notes

wildesqdreams · 12 days

Text

she's all that [slytherin version]

pairing - theodore nott x fem!reader.

summary - a relationship that started off as a surprise can't mean something good. especially when you're involved with a slytherin.

warnings - angst, grammar and vocabulary mistakes.

navigation | masterlist | request | taglist

a/n: I AM NOT A HARRY POTTER FAN, but i do like theodore nott, so if i got smth wrong, don't come at me. i wrote this very fast, so it may be rushed :) this idea has been stuck in my mind for days, so i hope you enjoy. i will be not writing part2 and this will be my only fic about the harry potter universe!

theodore's fingers gently brushed up and down y/n's thigh while she was observing the scene in front of her.

teenagers from all the houses dancing. sweat and alcohol filling the air, the beat of the music pounding in the girl's ears. this was unusual for her, for both of them, to attend a crowded party. the couple would rather spend time alone, but they had promised their friends, well, mattheo and draco, since they were so eager to come.

y/n sighed and layed her head on her boyfriend's neck as the girl's fingers played with the hair at the back of his neck.

"you okay?" he whispered.

"mhm."

his lips pressed a kiss on her forehead, which made the smile on y/n's face grow even more.

she continued to lay in silence while theo chatted with mattheo and blaise, who were satted at the same table.

"i think y/n needs to play some beer pong or else she'll fall asleep," mattheo spoke.

"are you so desprete to lose?" the girl gave him a small smile.

"don't be so sure of yourself, y/n/n," the boy grinned.

she opened her mouth to speak, but a voice interrupted, "heyyy guyyyss," a drunk draco appeared in front of the table.

blaise scrunched his nose, "fucking hell, how much did you drink?"

but the question was left hanging as draco pulled out some money from his pocket, "beforew i fodget, hers the money you wonn."

theodore tensed, and his hand stopped on his girlfriend's thigh as he looked at the money. y/n furrowed her eyebrows, "you won a game or something?"

"it's nothing serious."

"c'mon bro," draco smiled, "give yourself some credut, yao got the girl on thhe hook!"

mattheo grumbled, "draco."

the girl turned her head to her boyfriend, "what's he talking about?"

theodore just gave her a small, tight smile, "he's just drunk," he kissed her cheek while slightly squeezing her thigh, "let's just go, you need some rest."

"theo, man, just ttake the money," the blonde boy put it on the table in front of him, "you compuleted the bet, consgrats."

y/n stiffened, when she felt the air tense around, "what bet?" her eyes were still locked on her boyfriend, "theo, what is he talking about?"

"just forget about it, bella."

draco started speaking, "tell her, don't bse a skank," he looked at the girl, "we made a bet, about the-

the boy beneath her tensed, "malfoy."

"theodore sleesping with yoou, we actually never thought that he'd succeeds, but look at our boyey."

y/n's heart stopped. she actually stopped breathing.

theodore nott was known as the player, but when he approached her, she never thought that it was for bad intentions. the girl was shocked, of course, that the famous theodore nott had interest in her, but never in her wildest dreams did she think that he would do such a horrible thing.

when they both arrived at hogwarts, they became good friends, but when he started hanging out with the slytherin group, he just disappeared and forgot about the girl. completely ignoring her. living his new life.

but years later in potions, when he came up to her with the question "do you want to be partners for the project?" with that slight smirk of his and those beautiful eyes, she never thought that he, theodore nott, would do that. y/n was happy that maybe she would get her friend back. at the end of the day she was just a girl who saw the best in others.

sooner or later, that would lead her to be shattered, like right now, when she felt her heart break.

"cara mia," theodore started, but the girl just removed herself from his lap, standing up.

her eyes landed on mattheo, who couldn't look at her, "you knew?"

silence.

after becoming closer with nott she befriended mattheo riddle, but as time went by, he became one of her best friends. but now staring at him, y/n realized it was all a lie.

she felt theodore gaze her arm, "y/n, let me explain," but she pulled it away, starting to walk away.

draco smiled, "heeey, no hard feelingss, it was jusft for fun."

but she ignored him while walking towards the exit.

this happened in films. in books. god, she was so naive. all those looks, all those late night talks, the way he ressured her when she felt low, the way he held her when she felt blue. the touches. kisses. secrets. the "i love you." it was all a show.

tears started to appear in her eyes, but she tried to hold them in. the girl wouldn't cry. not because of her stupidity, not because of him.

she heard the doors behind her slam shut while a voice was trying to get her attention, "y/n, please, let me explain."

he ran closer, "i swear it's not like that, i love you," he reached for her hand, "y/n, i swear it was a mist-"

the girl spun around, "were you involved with other girls while all this was going on?" she looked into his eyes.

"bella-"

"yes or no?"

but he didn't reply and she knew the answer. y/n bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to break in front of him, "you know what hurts the most? knowing that if the bet wasn't made, you would have never talked to me and still kept ignoring me, like the past two years."

"y/n, please-"

"fuck off, nott," and just like that she left him in the hallway. left him with her heart, that, once again, was broken. broken by the boy that made her feel everything. that made her feel pure happiness, who made her feel at home.

but it all was a lie. it all was a fucking bet. and y/n y/l/n was just a game.

#harry potter #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott angst #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott fic #theo nott #theo nott x reader #slytherin #mattheo riddle #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #theo nott x you #theo nott x y/n #hogwarts #slytherin boys

527 notes · View notes

itsharleystuff · 11 months

Text

↳ 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄

Gif not mine!

— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Joel Miller x afab!fem reader

— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7k

— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Ellie finds an old chessboard somewhere in Jackson and asks you to teach her how to play. Joel joins and isn’t too happy about losing three times against you.

— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), age gap (reader is in her mid twenties, Joel is early fifties), sex, p in v, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, use of whore (like once), pet names (darling, sweetheart, angel), multiple orgasms, they do it on the table, cum eating, bit of angst, insecure Joel, canon divergency, probably ooc Joel and Ellie, mentions of death and loss, alcohol consumption, confessing feelings. Let me know if I missed something!

a/n: this one’s a bit rushed but I wanted to post it before my birthday so I apologize if it isn’t great. Anyways, I’m writing a second Javi fic, so if you liked 𝐌Í𝐀 I’m certain you’re going to love the next one:)

no use of y/n

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

"You're cheating." Ellie rambles, standing up to get a better view of the board and analyze it from different angles. You can't help but giggle at her childish attitude, cause it truly brought a certain joy to the dynamic. "Hey! It's not funny."

"How could I cheat? You were watching my game the whole time." You defend you case, raising your hands in a sign of peace but gaining a glare from the girl.

"I don't know, you're the one who's teaching me." In that moment, you hear the crack of the front door opening, but none of you bother to stand and greet the main resident of the house, too busy in your own matters.

"Look, I'm playing fair. I am simply older and more experienced than you." Ellie grimaces and sits back on the chair, both arms crossed over her chest. "But try not to feel too bad. I've always been really good at chess."

Joel enters the dining room and walks right past you, going straight to the kitchen. You guess he's either going for a beer or to pour some whiskey into his favorite glass. Always the same routine every weekend: he would come home late with absolutely no explanations as to where he was, drink something strong and spend some time with both of you before heading to bed.

"You must be a really good strategist, then." She replies, amused. "I’ve heard this game is all about that. Strategies."

When you're about to respond, the man's heavy footsteps get closer as he comes to the room once again and leans back on the wall opposite to you, a glass of whiskey on his hand. His grayish hair is messy and his eyes seem to shine brighter under the warm light hanging over your heads when he looks at you intently. Often, he would appear exhausted after being off all day, but tonight it was different. Something about him was, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint it.

Ellie must've sensed a shift in the air, since she changed her approach in a second. "Joel, you're pretty ancient. I bet you know how to play."

You hold back your laughter at her mocking comment, reaching the board to rearrange the pieces. He cocked an eyebrow in her direction, straightening his posture nonchalantly.

"I'm more of a poker man," he retorts with a distant air, diverting his gaze to Ellie.

"Poker?" You frown as he comes your way, but doesn't take a sit just yet. "I didn't take you for a gambler, Miller."

He sets the glass down on the table, leaning over the chair next to you with a smirk. "M'not. There’s many ways of playing other than betting your money, f’you know what I mean.”

Your eyes widen at his response, taken aback. So he meant like… The one were you end up naked. “Now, I would’ve expected that from Tommy, but you? That’s a surprise.”

He shrugs, faded smile still on his lips.

You remembered what Ellie once told you, ‘he does that whenever you’re around,’ she had said in a meditative tone, ‘smile, I mean. It’s kind of creepy cause… y’know, he never does.’ Perhaps that’s why she acted differently every time you three were together.

“Yeah, whatever.” The girl grumbles. “Can you play chess or not? I need someone to take revenge for me.”

Joel takes a seat beside you, slowly, glancing over the board before sipping from his drink again. He looks back at Ellie, whose eyes were sparkling with excitement. The man sighs in defeat, well aware that he just couldn’t say no to her. A dad reflex, maybe, but it worked out in her favor and she’d take advantage of it as much as she could.

“Fine. I call black.” You nod in agreement and the younger one leans on her elbows for a better view. “Either way, I know you like making the first moves. Ain’t that right, darlin’?”

Your first reaction was almost choking on your own saliva. Honestly, how dare he say something like that in front of Ellie? Did he suddenly forget that she was fourteen and terribly clever? Had he lost his mind? Also, he never called you by anything other than your name whenever she was around, so this whole situation felt like a personal attack.

“You okay over there?” Ellie asked, slightly concerned at your incessant coughing.

“Yeah…” you give him a dirty look and press a hand to your chest, making the first move with a white pawn. “Could you bring me some water? I think my soul might’ve left my body.”

“Sure.” She quickly answers, standing up. Joel doesn’t say anything else, his mind focused only on the game now.

It had all happened last weekend.

Thinking in retrospective, your relationship with him had always been ambiguous. You couldn’t quite recall when he actually started talking to you and not just ‘bear with your presence’, nor when his invitations to come over to his place started coming from him and not Ellie.

At first, it was simply you and her. Bonding was easy, despite her sharp character. She looked up to you, for whatever reason that might be, and that smoothed things. Joel was a completely different story. He acted like you didn’t exist, as if you were merely another bug roaming his house. Though when he saw how good your friendship with Ellie was, his brusque behavior started to fade, or at least settle down somehow.

Sooner than later you started coming over to make dinner, or teach the teenager how to bake some of the recipes your grandmother had thought you -more like you’d do everything while she chatted to keep you entertained-. But truth be told, it became more of an excuse to see him.

Honestly, you were doomed since the very beginning. There was undeniably no way you would’ve been able to escape Joel Miller’s silent charm. His presence became a constant need to you, and you’d often find yourself relating certain things to him. Smoke, denim, pills, booze, watches and boots, to mention a few. To you, he was all gray and blue, merging in the best way possible.

You didn’t expect him to thank you for taking care of them. Them. Not just Ellie, him too. Or that he’d suddenly show up to places you would frequent, which made you wonder, could he possibly feel the same way? Sure, it could’ve been a simple coincidence… If it weren’t for the stolen looks you’d often share. Though his face rarely reflected any interest in you, his piercing gaze would frequently burn your skin every time you were hanging out with other men.

Two weeks ago, Maria had been held back from patrol due to her pregnancy, and you were called to fill up her place. The thing is, you were supposed to leave with Tommy, but somehow ended up with his older brother, riding at dawn in utter silence and searching for a prey to hunt. It wasn’t particularly uncomfortable, yet it allowed you to watch him more attentively: his broad shoulders and sturdy back, the dark graying hair that, in some way, made him more attractive. And then your mind, went to some… Darker places.

How would his big, manly hands feel cupping your breasts? Flashy images of his rough, calloused fingers pinching your nipples meandered your mind. His face buried between your legs, his mustache tickling your…

“You ‘kay there, sweetheart?” He had asked, abruptly taking you out of your freakish daydreaming. “You seem distracted.”

Well, that was a way of putting it. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just…” you babbled, “I hate the rifle.” Joel glanced back at you with a stiff, confused expression. “If I shoot this thing, I’ll feel the kickback on my shoulders and back for at least two weeks from now.”

The horses were stagnant, waiting by the trees while you took a stroll nearby, keeping an eye for any sort of animal that would serve for dinner.

“Show me.” He said, internally amused by your inquiring expression. “Show me how you hold it.”

“Oh…” You compeled, in spite of the anxiety his stern eyes brought upon you.

“You’re doin’ it wrong.” He grunted, coming to approach you, still holding the position.

You scowled, raising a brow to him but not daring to move a muscle. “Maybe you’re just making me nervous, did you think about that?”

Joel plants himself behind you, staying so close that you could feel the warmth of his body through the many layers of clothing. Your heartbeat races when his hand rearranges the rifle on your elbow, unintentionally wrapping his arms around you.

“You need to hold it like this.” His tone was low but still firm. “Keep it up.” You feel his chest pressed to your back and his face near yours, making it hard to breathe.

You can’t bring yourself to look at him, cause if your head turns even a little, you fear the distance between you might as well disappear. His hand holds your wrist steady, the other one going from your elbow to your waist in a tight grip that makes you gasp.

“Do I make you nervous?” He questioned, without letting you go. Paying no mind to the way your nerves buzzed and ears rang at the proximity, you slowly nodded. “Are you afraid of me?”

His doubt made your heart jump and knit your brows together. “No. I trust you.” Joel’s breath hit your temple and it took all the self control in your body not to get rid of the distance.

“You shouldn’t.” Both his hands are on your waist in a firm grasp. He definitely noticed your flushed cheeks, the ragged breathing and constant desire to look at him. Like a damn teenager in love. You gulp, trying to regain composure.

“And why is that?” He didn’t answer, and every second that passed and his hands were still on you only made it worse. You needed to get closer or your lungs would crush under the weight of expectation. “Joel?”

You finally gave in, raising your head to face him. He was already looking down at you, eyes smitten and lost. A reflection of him you’d never seen before. Your gaze goes to his lips and inevitably lick your own before going up to his deep, brown eyes again.

Fucking hell, the man was mesmerizing.

Before you even knew what you were doing, you’re leaning forward, completely forgetting about the rifle and the whole world around you. Your noses touch and your lips merely brush against each other’s. Instinctively, you close your eyes in hopes that he’d go for it.

But he didn’t.

Instead, his hand comes to arrange your posture again, murmuring a lazy ‘easy’ in your ear, that shared moment vanishing in thin air.

“When shooting a weapon this big, you gotta bring your strength from your torso and legs.” And then he acted like nothing happened; nevertheless, he was perfectly aware of the effect he had on you. “That way it won’t hurt after.”

Well shit. Now you had screwed up.

This man was like a father to Ellie and you were not only infatuated with him, but also add to the list that you had purposely tried to kiss him. You were embarrassed, to say the least. Specially since it appeared that whatever feelings you had were one-sided.

Or so you thought, up until last Saturday.

You hadn’t talked with him about it. In fact, you hadn’t even been alone with him ever since. It was probably for the best, though, that way you wouldn’t have to humiliate yourself in front of him any further. Every time you happened to cross paths, he seemed aloof, more indifferent than usual.

It was pretty late, probably past midnight and Joel hadn’t yet arrived. You had spent all day with Ellie and now you were just waiting for his return, but she was growing tired and you didn’t think it was fair for her to stay up for too long.

“Go to bed, okay? I’ll wait for him.” You told her with a smile.

“Nah, don’t worry. I’m not even…” whatever she was going to say got cut off by her yawn.

“Right. You were saying?” She rolled her eyes and snorted at your victorious air.

“Fine. But promise you won’t stay for too long. I’d hate to know you didn’t get any sleep because of me.” You agreed and said everything would be fine, that she had nothing to worry about.

So you waited there on his living room, reading old crappy magazines about celebrity gossip while facing the crackling fire that kept the house warm. It was easy to lose track of time this way, therefore, when the door opened at last, you had no idea how long you had been waiting around. You rushed to his encounter, but you were totally unprepared for what happened next.

“Jesus Christ, Joel. Are you- shit…” the man standing ahead was someone you knew, but could barely recognize. The side of his face was bleeding, a cut going from his temple to the cheekbone and there were bruises scattered around it. He was sweating and you could swear he was about to faint.

You closed the door behind him, tugging his shoulder to drag him inside, all the way to the kitchen. Despite his rumbles of protest, Joel allowed you to do it, putting up no resistance. His mind was screaming at him to tell you that you should leave and that he didn’t need any help. But he was too fucking exhausted and you were being so kind and warm… He just couldn’t bring himself to do it, ignoring the part of his brain that kept telling him ‘you’ll regret this later’. For once in a very long time, he was being irrational, letting another part of him take control; or rather lose it completely.

You sat him down on a chair and took a clean towel, wetting it with cold water to treat the wound. In addition, you also took the bottle of whiskey that he kept locked away where Ellie wouldn’t find it, pouring him a glass. He gulps it down straight away.

Joel observes your every move closely. Your steady hands going to his chin and raising his face to the light, the way your features drown in concern and your dazzling eyes examine the injury. His skin burnt there where you touched him and it was becoming hard for him to keep his mind focused, growing dizzier with pain and intoxicated by your perfume. He really shouldn’t be feeling this way, and it burdens him to know it. Your lovely, young self shouldn’t be an object of his desire; and the fact that you were what he wanted the most was killing him achingly slow.

Because, even if you did want him back, what good could it possibly come from the whole thing? He’d just hold you back. There were plenty of other men in Jackson that could offer you things he certainly couldn’t. Yeah, that was it. He was way too corrupted to be deserving of someone like you.

“Does it hurt too much?” You muttered while getting rid of the blood, careful not to be too harsh.

“S’okay, angel.” The name-calling wasn’t something you usually liked. It sounded condescending coming from other men, but when he did it, your stomach fluttered. “Were you waiting for me?”

You nod vaguely, “I was worried.” His eyes bore into yours and your heart skips a beat. “I mean we. We were worried.”

“Right…” He noticed how your fingers brushed the hair out of his face tenderly, his self-control threatening to crumble under your touch with every second that went by. His hand takes your wrist, preventing you from keeping up your work. For a moment, he says nothing, simply staring at you fixedly. “I think you should leave.” He blurts out, letting go of you.

Oh, there they were. Those mixed signs that you always seemed to misinterpret.

You groan in exasperation, leaving the bloody towel beside the bottle of alcohol. “I’m just trying to help.”

“I don’t need your pity.” Joel was being petty and his deliver managed to hurt a little. But you would not give him that much power, at least not without putting up a fight.

“It’s not about that and you know it.” You cross both arms over your chest and sit on the edge of the table, determined to get out of that agog that wouldn’t let you sleep. “Why are you pushing me away?”

He rubs a hand over his face, taking his time to retort and avoiding your eyes. “I can’t give you what you want.”

You laugh sardonically, challenging him. “And what is that?” His gaze is disdainful and rude, but you don’t let him intimidate you. “Are you afraid?”

If you were anyone else, you’d be shaking with fear. Joel was tough, to the point where some might call him cynical. But you knew he wouldn’t hurt you. His goal was to scare you off.

“Go. I don’t need you here.” You don’t move an inch, resolved to bring an end to whatever this was and ignoring his vicious glare.

“No,” you huffed.

“I told you to leave.” He was getting pissed, his voice trembling with anger and the cold words slicing the tense air.

“And I said no. I don’t take orders from you.” His lips were sealed in a fine line, eyes feisty. “Be honest with me and then I’ll see myself out.”

Silence again. A more prolonged one in which none of you had the bravery to come forward. Every second that went on and nothing happened was a torture you could not endure. That was it then, you’d made a fool of yourself yet again.

“Fine.” Your voice comes out unsteady from choking down the tears as you stand up straight, set on leaving all these feelings behind.

But right when you walk by his side, Joel’s hand grabs your arm softly. His grip wasn’t strong enough to hold you back if you really wanted to go, kind of like he was unsure about his own actions.

“Push me away.” He pleads. And it sounds desperate, as if the whole situation caused him agony. “Please, push me away.”

Your wet your lips, astonished by how guilty he appeared when practically begging you to stay away, “I can’t,” you respond, “I won’t.”

There was no turning back now. He had trapped himself on purpose and jeopardized everything the moment he laid his hand on you. The minute your eyes found each other’s, he realized he’d just lost all willpower that remained.

Joel pulled you closer and the sudden action almost made you trip, forcing you to place both hands on his chest to stay still. Something flicked in his eyes, something you couldn’t quite comprehend. But you took it as a sign to fully give in to your desires, as long as he’d permit it. You sit on his lap, solely enjoying the moment. His face, despite the beating, was ever so beautiful. It wasn’t fair. If he wanted you too, why did he have make it this difficult? Perhaps he was simply… Insecure.

“What have you done to me, sweetheart?” He asked, voice strained as he looks down at your lips. Your fingertips gently trace the edges of his face.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.” One of his hands covers your thigh and the other rests on his knee.

“Do you like playin’ around with an old man like me?” You can’t help but laugh a bit, your thumb going across his bottom lip. “Is this what you want? A sweet thing like you can do so much better.”

“I don’t care for boys, or any other men for that matter.” His chest swells at your words. “I like you, Joel. Is that so hard to believe?” The man swears you can feel his heart thumping against his ribs when he whispers a barely audible ‘yes’. His honesty moved you and grew a weird feeling in your chest that impelled you to prove him wrong.

In response, you lastly get rid of that awful distance, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips and feeling the unfamiliar tickle of his mustache. It was stubborn at first, but he caved in eventually, kissing you back slowly. He took his time to relish on your taste before deepening the kiss, manhandling you on top of him. Joel’s hands are on your lower back and the nape of your neck as his tongue explores your mouth in depth, letting go of himself. You moaned in between the kiss, drunken by every light stimulation, which only spurred him on and turned the situation hungrier, more desperate.

“Joel…” you pull back, laying your forehead against his. “I have to go.”

You feel him chuckle at your declaration. “Seriously? Now?” His tone was raspy and faint.

“I don’t want to.” You assure with a pout, “But I fear that if I stay, this won’t end in a simple kiss. And Ellie’s upstairs, remember?” He agreed it was for the best, but still couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself, asking you to stay the night even if he had to sleep on the couch.

That was the night that started everything.

After that weekend, the way he acted changed radically. He remained with that grim, stoic exterior. Yet, he was brighter around you, more beaming. In public, he’d always find a way to touch you, even if it was merely a brief brush of skin. On bolder days, he’d pull you apart from a crown and take you somewhere darker to make out for as long as you could. Which wasn’t much, since everyone always appeared to have some sort of unresolved business with either of you.

Today, however, something was odd. Joel went off, as usual, and you stayed with Ellie, who had found an old, ragged chessboard somewhere in Jackson. A game that, as it turns out, you particularly loved.

That’s how you ended up here.

Three rounds afterwards, you keep winning and increasing his irritation.

“Checkmate.” You say for the fifth time tonight, giving him a triumphant smile, getting up from your seat to pour some whiskey into your glass.

“You’re cheating.” He barks, annoyed.

“See! I told you.” Ellie backed him up and the way they teamed up to bash you almost made you giggle.

“Suck it up, losers!” You shout from the kitchen, entertained by their resentment.

“Spill your secrets then, otherwise I will simply not be convinced.” She replies, glowering.

The drink nearly dissolves on your tongue and you leave the glass on the counter, coming to join them again. You rest both hands on her shoulders in a friendly gesture.

“My grandpa thought me when I was young. Before the outbreak, I mean.” Ellie turns her head to look at you in interest. “He got sick afterwards… Forgetful and amnesiac.” You explain, “Chess stimulated his brain and since I was his only family left, we would spend hours playing.” Joel’s chest feels heavy at the sight of your nostalgic smile. “We had a great time together. He… Passed away a couple years ago.” Ellie takes your hand on her own in a comforting manner, but you don’t feel particularly sad, simply emotional about the past. “Hey, kiddo. Didn’t you have a movie night with Dina today?”

“Shit!” Her eyes widen. “Thanks for the reminder, I totally lost track of time,” she gets up with an apologetic smile, “I’m gonna head out now.” She quickly takes a jacket and ties her hair up. “You guys can keep playing or… I don’t know, just don’t wait around for me.”

And just like that, you’re left alone.

After an entire week of sneaking around and behind everyone’s back, you’re finally alone.

There’s a shift in the air of the room and you narrow your eyes when you gape at him. “You think she knows something?”

He tilts his head to the side and finishes his whiskey. “Probably. Can’t know for sure.” The vague answer made you shrug, deciding to put a pin to it for later.

Now that no one was around, you were determined to have some fun, coming up with a plan that could escalate things between you. And he surely thought so too. It wouldn’t be difficult to get his attention, since he was constantly monitoring your every move. Being that way, you intentionally stand beside him when leaning to reorder the pieces, giving him a very good view of your ass.

“Another round?” You ask tauntingly, “Or are you already tired of getting defeated?”

He grunts, upset by the previous resolutions. “I’d like to play another game.” You turn around with a cheeky smile. “One that I won’t lose.”

“And what would that be?” He gives you a darkened, intense glance, his lips pursed in a smirk.

Joel Miller was a man of few words and he totally lived up to it. Instead of responding, he grabbed your hips and dragged your body to the side, so that you were now standing between his legs, lingering against the edge of the table. You swallow hard, meeting his heavy gaze from above him. It made your pulse raise and blood rush, igniting something that you haven’t quite felt with anyone else yet. He presses a kiss to your clothed abdomen, eyes never wandering from yours as he lowers his lips to your pelvis, lifting your shirt leisurely.

“Look at you, darlin’. All flustered and I’ve barely done anything.” Your chest rises and falls methodically, the atmosphere feeling dense despite the chilly air. Your tongue darts out to lick your lips when he starts laying open-mouthed kisses along your exposed belly, sending shivers through your whole body, “Off,” he motions at your clothes.

You do as told, getting rid of the shirt and tossing it to the floor. His big, warm hands strain your movements as he explores your skin, kissing all the way up to the valley of your breasts.

“Joel…” you take a fistful of his hair and pull at it mildly, just enough to yank his head backwards and bring your lips together, swallowing a whimper from him.

The kiss is ambitious, all teeth and tongue, as if you had been craving each other for long and had just barely given in. He swiftly stands up and sits you at the end of the table, spreading your knees to settle in between your thighs. He parts from your mouth and traces your jawline, neck and collarbones, nibbling and sucking the sensitive skin, lightly scraping it with his facial hair. You were a mess at this point, panting and tugging at him as if you were about to collapse. But then he stops, breathing heavily against your chest and looking up to you with dark, lustful eyes.

“What- Did I do something wrong?” You stutter with uncertainty.

“Ain’t nothing wrong, angel.” His hand rests heavy on your thigh, a mischievous grin painted on his face. “But I told you we’d play a different game, didn’t I?”

This new side of him was exciting in many ways possible and whatever it was he wanted to do, you were certain it was going to be fun. And, possibly, a bit tortuous. You peer at him in expectation.

“Make your move.” He commanded, pointing the board with a succinct head movement. You obligue, choosing a random pawn and moving it with shaky hands while struggling to think straight. The man hums and decides to mirror your tactic. “Keep goin’.”

Next thing you know his fingers unhook your bra and you have to make a quick choice in spite of all the distractions. At the end, you go for a horse, barely capable of register anything other than his hands taking off the piece of clothing. After contemplating your scheme, he moves another pawn in return.

“Shit.” He hissed at the sight of your exposed tits, nipples hard from the cold air and arousal. “Focus.”

You weren’t sure if that last order was for him or for you, but either way the game kept going. He had enough attention span to grope your breasts and tweak your nipples between the pads of his calloused fingers, while also moving the chess pieces around. You couldn’t say the same for yourself; a louder moan escaping your lips when he replaced his fingers with his mouth.

The more ministrations he provided, the harder it became to make strategic moves. But you were determined not to let him win, regardless of the ache between your legs and the growing wetness in your panties that he refused to attend.

“Joel, I…” He takes away one of your rooks, his lips attached to your neck and hands caressing your inner thighs. “I need more.”

He huffs a laugh that vibrates through your lower body. “That right, angel? Tell me what you want.”

You take away his only bishop left and hear him growl at his approaching defeat. “Touch me, please.”

“Where?” His scent fogs your senses, so manly and distinctive of him, growing the need to feel him in any way possible. “Words, sweetheart.”

“I need your fingers in my cunt, Joel.” You spit out, watching his Adam’s apple bob up and down his throat and increasing his arousal with your lack of coyness. “Please.”

“Anything for my pretty girl.” He unbuttons your pants and slides one hand inside, palming your pussy over the underwear, altering your breathing pattern and moving the queen with his free hand. “Fuck, you’re drippin’.” You grind against his hand and his grip on your waist tightens to keep you still as he kneads circles on your clit over the thin fabric. “Your turn, darlin’.”

The game carries on at the same time as he moves your panties aside and slides two thick fingers inside your entrance, his thumb still fondling your nub slowly. You can’t keep your moans at low and the stimulation picks up when he curls his digits to hit your right spots. All that can be heard in the room is the cracking wood of the fireplace and the squelching sounds of your pussy.

“Jesus Christ, Joel…” you cry out his name, burying your face on the crook of his neck, grabbing the soft flannel in your fists and spilling all your whimpers into his ear, delighting yourself with the way he smelt. He groans at the feeling of your bare chest pressed to him, his cock throbbing painfully at every sound you’d make.

“You like that, darlin’? You like to fuck my fingers on top of this table like a needy little whore?” You clench around him and throw your head back, a new wave of slick coating all the way to his knuckles. “Ah, so you do like it.”

“Yes, Joel. I-” he speeds up his pace, greedily circling your clit in a way that makes your back arch, giving him a glorious view from his position.

“Fuck, you’re so hot. Been wanting to do this for so fuckin’ long…” He admits, peppering kisses all over your breasts.

“Me too. Thought about you when I-” your voice gets lost at the sudden feeling of heat settling on your lower stomach, building up your crescendo. “When I was alone.” Your confession only manages to prompt him further and make his movements more effective. You squirm under his touch, a hand messing his hair while the other holds his belt to keep him close.

He groans a deep ‘fuck’ at the pathetic sound you made. All because of him. No; all of them for him.

“Joel, I’m- shit, I’m close,” there’s a hotness on the pit of your stomach that extends to your legs.

“I know, angel.” He coos, his free hand brushing the hair out of your face. “Go ahead, do it.” His words are all it takes for your orgasm to hit, shocking every nerve on your body. He helps you come down from it, tracing soothing patterns on your bare skin as your body quivers from elation.

“Joel…” you whisper, both your hands on his belt and going to unbuckle it, watching as he takes both fingers to his lips and licks them clean.

“Sweet” he kisses you again, deeply. You happily return it with the same energy, nibbling at his bottom lip while your palm slides inside his jeans to feel up his bulge over the underwear. He muffles a moan in your mouth, his hot, hard cock twitching under your grip.

Your hand drifts inside his boxers to feel him directly, your thumb rubbing over the tip to spread the surprising amount of precum that oozed there. Joel gasped into your mouth, the sound prompting you further.

“Checkmate.” You tell him, pulling back only when you needed to breathe, guiding your finger to your tongue in order to taste him. “I won.”

His eyes divert to the board in awe, and you admire his mesmerized expression when he confirms that you had, in fact, won again. Joel comes back to dote on your devilish grin, fueled up by a new thrill of excitement.

“Fuck this…” he mutters through gritted teeth, mindlessly tossing the board to the side and letting it fall off the table along with all the pieces, making an absolute mess. It appears like he doesn’t even register any of it, going straight back to kissing you, his hands sliding your pants down your legs.

“Shit, Joel…” You can’t help but laugh at his reaction, encouraged by his sudden passion.

As your lips collide once again, you start to unbutton his shirt and he helps you out of your jeans, along with your very wet panties. He pushes your back against the wooden surface, holding you down with a hand around your neck.

“Winners that boast in their victory are only brats.” He snarls, taking his dick out for you to see. Your mouth waters at the sight of it: thick, bigger than you could’ve expected, the head swollen and glistening. “Brats need to be tamed.”

You whine when he parts your thighs even wider, teasing your slit with his tip, covering it in your slick and intentionally grazing your aching clit, urging you to grab his bicep for support.

“Can’t you just fuck me already?” You blurt out, the sensation only edging you more. “I might just cum again from all the teasing.”

His fingertip sweeps across your bottom lip, an eyebrow raised. “You really that sensitive, angel?” He questions, “Or is it just because of me?”

The inquiry nearly makes you crack up. Damn, the man was totally clueless. “Are you really that unaware of the effect you have on me?”

His stare reflects how pleased he is to hear that. “How many times did you beat me tonight, sweetheart?”

It takes an actual effort for you to recall and muster up an answer when he keeps toying with you so mercilessly. “Three, I presume.”

Joel’s hand slithers to your lower back, keeping you angled for him. “Then I’ll get you off three times.” Your heart jumps at the sentence and you look at him in disbelief. “Can you do that, angel?”

Three fucking times?

When your whole life men had only ever given you… None, practically. One at most, if you were lucky enough. And Joel mother-fucking Miller had the nerve to ask if you could handle three.

“Bet.” The answer is music to his ears, giving in once and for all as he enters you unhurriedly.

He’s so big and you feel him splitting you open exquisitely, the sensation fading any thoughts, beliefs or identities from your mind. Right now, all you know is him. It stings a little and it forces you to screw your eyes shut, letting out a small whine as he bottoms out, your nails digging on his arm.

“You’re doing s’good, baby.” He continues to say in midst of it, talking your way through it, “Taking me so well…” You think it’s somewhat unfair that he’s still fully clothed and you’re naked as the day you came; yet, at the moment your mind can’t even think of anything but his cock, buried deep inside you. “If something feels off or it becomes to much… Let me know and I’ll stop.” You nod, eagerness starting to scratch your insides.

“Yes. Now can you please, please start moving.” He holds back a chuckle, gazing at you from above, barely lifting your hips to feel more of him.

“Atta girl,” he obeys, thrusting his hips sharply and deep. “Look so pretty beggin’ to be fucked.” His big arm travels to the arch in your back, withdrawing and pushing in again, slowly losing his consciousness to pleasure.

“Fucking hell, you fill me up so good…” he moans gruffly at your comment, pulling you down on his cock as he picks up an unrelenting pace, hitting every right spot as if he knew them all by memory.

“Shit, you’re so tight,” Joel drags in an out, rejoicing himself in every high pitched moan you’d spill. Your legs wrap around his waist in an effort to keep him as close as you could.

The angle is very intimate, his whole body flushed against yours, warm and firm, while your hand snakes under his flannel to dig your nails on his bare shoulders, the other scratching his scalp delicately and Joel’s hot, erratic breaths hitting your face as you gape at him. It’s like everything else disappeared and it was all about the two of you and this moment of pure rapture. Unable to contain your urge, you search for his lips, kissing him one more time, the mixture of mint and alcohol in his mouth fogging your senses in the best way possible.

His tip nudges your g-spot relentlessly, the stretch his girth provided so satisfying that you clench around him as your second orgasm approaches, causing him to pull apart from the kiss and let out a sinful groan, deep from his throat, that sends a shudder up your spine. It all becomes too much; the friction of your delicate nipples with his shirt, his thick cock dragging against your walls and lastly, Joel’s teeth biting down the soft skin under your ear, his facial hair scraping deliciously. That is your cum button.

“That’s my girl, making a mess on my dick,” he fucks you through it, slowing down his pace and only pulling out when your legs tremble. “Say it darlin’, tell me who you belong to.”

“You, Joel…” he basks in the view of your fucked out self, looking up at him in a delirious state, eyes low, heat soared across your cheeks and lips plumped. “Shit, Miller,” you sit up, arm still hanging around his broad shoulders while his hard, throbbing cock rested against your thigh. “You’re so fucking hot, did you know that? It drives me insane.”

He laughs huskily, his big hand caressing the side of your face in a caring manner. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he speaks softly, “I think I might’ve fucked you so hard I scrambled your brain.”

You actually crack up this time, pressing a kiss to his forehead and muttering an: “Idiot.” He grabs your thighs and methodically swirls your body, flushing your back against his chest. Without warning, he slams into you again, making you yelp at the sudden action.

“You’ve got a dirty mouth,” he pokes fun at you, “next time we’ll put it to use.” And the promise raises goosebumps on your skin.

This new position gave you the opportunity to feel him deeper, if that was even possible. His thighs and hips firm against yours, every single snap making you feel that delicious stretch he provided as your cunt envelopes him tightly. But you were already far too sensitive and every light touch added to his thrusts made your body feel weaker.

“Joel, I-” he holds you with an arm covering your waist, his fingers pinching your nipples. “Fuck, I won’t last…”

He becomes more vocal, his disjointed moans drifting from his lips right into your ear while the hand on your hip makes its way to rub your clit gloriously, in a way that makes you wonder just how the fuck does he know exactly what your body likes.

“Is my sweet girl gonna cum for me?” you nod, unable to form any words, only capable of reveling on the way his cock throbs inside you. “Speak, remember?”

But you can’t. Nothing comes out of your mouth besides his name, like a constant plea. When the third one finally came, it was simply euphoric; your whole body shudders and your vision goes white, tears spilling from the corners of your eyes as you start to feel lightheaded. Joel draws out with a grunt, a string of curses leaving his lips as you spin around to see him. Your hand wraps around his own when he fucks his fist and you take in the sight of him cumming all over your fingers, his forehead laying on your shoulder as you milk him. Inevitably, you lick your fingers to taste his salty load. A sight that would be engraved in his brain for the rest of his days and that could possibly haunt him in his time apart from you.

“Checkmate my ass,” he grits between shaky breaths, your hand stroking his hair as he comes down from his high.

“What a sore loser…” you joke. In fact, you plan to say something more, but you feel too tired for anything.

It didn’t really matter, though. Joel took good care of you. He bathed with you, cleaned up the whole mess and gave you one of his shirts for you to sleep with, eventually going to bed with your very passed out self.

Well, if Ellie didn’t know anything before, she surely will now.

#joel miller #joel the last of us #the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #the last of us oneshot #the last of us hbo

2K notes · View notes

tinkizzig · 1 year

Text

Humans have always had their finger on the trigger, they are always ready to strike, and yet they relax and are calm whenever you see them. This bi-polar like response is terrifying to many in the universe and most seem to see the humans as always ruthless and bloodthirsty, which they really are.

Morgranff: I can’t believe how ruthless a fighter that human was, did you see how it bent itself in the air to avoid that strike from the Horned Goliath?

Stencillon: Yeah, I saw it, it cost me my whole night's bets.

Morgranff: You bet against a human?

Stencillon: The Goliath was twice his size, that human didn’t stand a chance if you looked at the physics of the fight.

Morgranff: Yeah, they are often overlooked when it comes to the ridiculous agility and chaos that goes with every human.

Stencillon: Well, I also never thought that a human leg was capable of slicing through the thick neck of a Horned Goliath especially when its horns interlock over the neck and act as natural armor. That fight clearly showed how vicious and deadly a human truly is.

Morgranff: Of course, I haven’t stopped betting on the humans ever since I had made that very mistake, that being said, can I buy you a drink?

Stencillon: Yes, I would love to celebrate your winnings with you.

The two start walking down the bustling corridor of the “Fight Palace”, and both freeze at the sight of the, now clean of Goliath blood, human fighter they had just watched dispatch the Goliath.

Stencillon: Why do they let humans walk around freely like this? Shouldn’t they keep such a vicious predator in a cage?

Margranff: You know I have never understood it either. Humans are far too unpredictable and I have never felt safe around them unless I am on the other side of the barrier fence at a fight.

Stencillon: Should we go around the other way?

Margranff: Yes, but what is the human doing?

Stencillon: I don’t know but it is approaching that child over there, I am going to call security.

The human crouched down next to the clearly homeless Maldovian child. The child’s blue skin ruffled as the human carefully spoke in hushed tones.

Margranff: What is he after with that kid?

The human pulls out a roll of dollar bills from his pocket and separates a few offering them to the child. The child reluctantly takes the money and stands up by taking the hand of the human that had just been offered up following the cash. They slowly walk together to a food cart and talk to the Purveyor of meat kabobs. The child selects its food and the human steps up to pay for the food.

Margranff (whispering to himself): Is he going to eat the child?

Stencillon (on a communications device): yes, the human is doing something with a homeless Maldovian child…. I don’t know his intention, he is a human!... I won’t interfere, that is why I am calling you…. Yes, I feel like I am in danger, the fight winning human is walking around doing unpredictable things.

The human and the child sit together against the wall in the corridor and chat while an amplified voice from the stadium calls out a new fight in the ring. The child is really just stuffing his face and nodding as the human goes on and on about something that is important to him but definitely not important to the child.

Stencillon: the security officer is on his way.

Margranff: Good thing too, there is definitely something up with what this human is doing, even though I can’t put my finger on it.

A security guard comes running up and slows to a stop at the sight of the human. The guard turns his head to one side contorting his face in total confusion as he tries to take in the scene. The guard stops analyzing everything and starts psyching himself up to go talk to the human. The guard sort of stretches and sort of hops around trying to get up the courage when he suddenly freezes.

Margranff: Did the security guard just scare himself or something?

Stencillon: No, look, there are two other humans that just showed up.

The two newly arrived humans walk straight over to the first one who is still talking to the child who has already finished eating the food he had. They interrupt what the first human is saying and the first human gets up on his feet and bares his teeth at the two interlopers before they stand against each other and start squeezing each other.

Stencillon: are they beginning to wrestle?

Margranff: If they are fighting, what do you bet the first one loses to the other two?

The security guard had been nervously calling for backup this whole time and is still in disbelief that this already dangerous call had tripled in danger before he had even started. The guard feeling defenseless pulls out his weapon aiming at the humans who had now switched the wrestling to the first and third human.

Stencillon: this is going to end badly, if that guard shoots one of them the other two will rip him to shreds.

Margranff: At least this situation will end with the child being rescued.

The humans start pointing to the child after unlocking their arms from the wrestling lock they were in. the three of them begin raising their voices at each other.

Human #3: COME ON….ANOTHER….CHILD….EAT!

Human #2: YOU DO THIS ALL THE TIME.

The third human walks over to the kabob cart and starts talking to the vendor.

Margranff: Are they going to eat the child?

Stencillon: That’s what I just heard, they must be checking with the food cart guy to see if he will cook the child for them.

The large burly Maldovian Head of security shows up walking casually to the security guard, lowering the nervously held weapon, tells him to stand down.

Stencillon: head of security is here, I am going to get closer and see what happens.

Margranff: I’ll come with you.

The third human turns around from the cart holding a lot of food. He walks over and hands the child one before handing one to each of the other humans. The Head of security steps over to them just as Stencillon and Margranff get close enough to observe while still remaining at a relatively safe distance.

Head of security: Steeeeve?

The first human deflates knowing he was in for a lecture and some disappointment.

Head of security: How many times have I told you, you can’t adopt the children that hangout around here.

Steve: But Orri, the kid is homeless.

Orri (head of security): No, this kid’s name is BahOni, he lives down the street from here, he lives with his brother, sisters and both his parents, he cannot be adopted. He probably heard from a friend about a prize winning fighter who buys lonely kids food and gives them money.

Steve: I know, I know, but I…

Orri: NO!

#humans are space australians #humans are space fae #humans are space orcs #humans are sweet

4K notes · View notes

saiidahyunie · 26 days

Text

i wonder everything about us

minatozaki sana x f!reader || last part from ballroom extravaganza and pt.1

synopsis: your composure is starting to break, and it lands you in front of the very person that started it all.

warnings: fluff ; angst ; cursing ; alcohol ; arguing ; reader is a dumbass/conflicted ; misscommunication ; 127 doyoung and g-idle miyeon appear! ; dahyun, minju, and somi also have a small cameo ; tzushu and seuirene ship ; almost cheating sorta? ; kinda proofread

a/n: wrapping up the sha rich story here. enjoy! :)

there’s been more situations worse than this one. break the eggs and someone’s gotta make the omelet.

“who was that?”

you’re sitting on the couch while mina paces in front of you, arms crossed over with your chest in a self-soothing gesture. sana was sent back to your room, but you can’t help but wish that she was right here and next to you—it would make you feel braver than she was.

“well?” mina demands. “who?”

“my…she’s my girlfriend.” the lie you just spat tastes like ash in your mouth.

“she’s older.”

“not by much,” you protest. “only eight years.”

“eight—? y/n, you’re almost twenty-two. what are you doing with a woman nearly in her thirties?”

“i’m turning twenty-three in a month or so. don’t insult me.”

“i just don’t know what a twenty-nine year old woman would want with a college kid.”

“kid?” you scoff. “geez, that’s so rich coming from you. how old is your business associate again?”

“this isn’t about me, smartass. it’s about you getting involved with someone whose intentions are a big fat question mark!”

“so what?! why would it matter if i’m graduating next semester with my life ahead of me. stop treating me like how auntie was with you!”

mina stares at you, silently, and her lack of reaction only serves to piss you off even more. so you keep going:

“and sana doesn’t have any shitty intentions with me! she’s my—my girlfriend and she’s good to me! she treats me well and she likes me. she texts me everyday and she comes over all the time and—!”

“does she help with expenses?”

you’re stopped dead in your tracks. “what?”

“does she give you money? you haven’t complained about finances recently.”

“i never complain about fiances, mina.”

“i know, but i can always tell when you’re stressed about them and you haven’t been. so let me ask again: does sana give you money?”

“i—” you stammer with the words. you can see the deeper question in mina’s eyes, probing you. forcing you to be truthful. “she…”

“i think if you’re gonna ask y/n about her finances, it’s probably safest to talk to me.”

the both of you whirl around to look at sana. she has her arms folded, foot bent as she leans against the wall. her expression is polite but her gaze is flat, angry. the simultaneous relief and anxiety that swells within you is strong enough to make you unsteady, and you’re grasping at the arm of the couch.

mina, fortunately, is ignorant to this.

“what did you say?”

“i said if you’re asking about whether i give your cousin any money, your best bet is to come directly to me instead of interrogating her.”

“you’ve got a lot of nerve to say that shit to me when this was happening behind my back.”

sana just shrugs. “i just don’t appreciate what you’re implying.”

“and what exactly am i implying?”

“that i have shady intentions towards y/n, which i don’t.”

your heart in chest thuds, staring down at your trembling fingers, clenching them over your lap. mina’s eyes flicker towards sana’s richard mille. “that’s a nice watch. you make money?”

“mina.” you hiss.

“i make a comfortable living.”

mina scoffs and rolls her eyes, muttering something under her breath. “rich people bullshit,” you can faintly hear her say. sana doesn’t reply, face remaining placid. her and mina have a loaded exchange of looks, before your cousin falters, gaze flickering to you.

“you want dinner?” mina inquires.

you blink. “i’m…why?”

“answer the question.”

“i guess im hungry?”

“wonderful.” mina snaps her stare back to sana, voice hard. “what about you?”

sana’s tone is emotionless. “i could eat something.”

“great,” mina says, zipping up her puffer. “let’s go get some thanksgiving dinner then.”

—

you all pack into mina’s car to drive to some restaurant of her choosing, the silence tense enough to cut. when she parks alongside the street, she orders you out of the car, telling to secure a table.

stumbling out, your characteristic grace rendered to nothing due to your anxiety. you step inside the small, hole-in-the-wall pizza restaurant, and ask the hose for a three person table booth. seeing that sana and your cousin aren’t behind you, you allow the host to lead to the table that’s in a corner to the far end of the entrance. after three excruciating minutes, you see the pair walk inside. sana’s expression is blank, and mina’s is unreadable. this does absolutely nothing to calm your nerves.

they sit down, mina across from you and sana at your side. she places her warm hand over your trembling knee, thumb stroking your skin to calm you, grasping it, intertwining fingers. sana squeezes back for comfort.

“so,” you begin shakily. “um—”

“you lied to me,” mina interrupts firmly, eyes hard, reducing you to a feeble child. it angers you. “why did you lie to me?”

“because i knew you would do this. because i knew you were gonna say something about it to auntie sometime later.”

“about what?”

“my decisions. my life. the way i choose to live my life. it’s why you do shit like this.”

mina narrows her eyes, offended. “care to elaborate more?”

“come here under the guise of checking up on me. interrogate me.”

“i only came because i knew you were lying to me.”

“and i lied because i know how controlling you are just like auntie!”

mina’s expression sours. “i’m not controlling like her.”

“yes, you are.” you snap. “you’re either controlling or completely detached. you either forget to call me for two months because you’re busy or you do random check-ins with me everyday for a week. i’m twenty-two years old and you still treat me like this only because auntie’s health hasn’t been well.”

“i don’t have any other choice.” she says tightly. “i don’t know how much auntie has left with time, but—” mina catches herself off, jaw clenching, and looks away from you. you and sana. “we may not be related by blood, but i still consider you my family. i’m sorry if i came off as cold or unmoving, but you’re all i have left.”

sana shifts beside you. “maybe i should—”

“no, it’s fine.” mina says, and glances back up. brown eyes meet yours, a mirror image. “i was just about to leave anyway.”

“what?” you gasp out.

“you shouldn’t.” sana interjects.

mina waves a dismissive hand. “i’ve said everything i wanted to say. to both of you.”

“don’t go if you’re gonna regret it later, mina,” sana warns. mina barks a laugh, tightening her jacket. “if you wanna be apart of our family, sana, learn the way we operate. y.n and i don’t carry regrets.”

she pointedly glances at you and you respond with shaking your head, mouthing a silent no. without any further ceremony, mina shoulders her handbag, moving to step forward. however, she hesitates and looks back at you, stopping in place.

“if you want me to be convinced you can hold out on your one, then act like it. stop giving so much of a shit about what i have to say. i spout just as much crap as everyone else. it’s up to you if you want to ignore me if you want.”

speechless, your mouth is parted, but mina was already on her way out of the restaurant by the time you can think of any words. when you see the black streak of her car driving way, you sigh, burying your face in your hands.

“i’m such a bitch.”

“don’t talk about yourself like that,” sana says, voice firm but touch soft, stroking down the line of your back. “she told me in the car she was gonna leave.”

“why?”

“same reason she just gave just now. she said everything she wanted to say to both of us.”

“and what did she say to you?”

“a better question is what i did say to her.”

you can’t help with the rush of cold fear that grips you. “what did you say?”

“what i felt about you. what you are to me.”

and it’s not the truth because it can’t be the truth—mina would’ve throttled sana otherwise—but the tenderness in her voice implores you to look up from your hands at her, to believe her. she reaches over to brush your hair out of your face, eyes sweet like liquid candy, mouth curling to smile. you crumble, falling into her.

“i’m sorry. i’m sorry you had to put up with that.”

“it’s fine, sweetheart.”

“no, it’s not. it’s awful and it’s unhealthy and i’m dumping my baggage onto you.”

“i don’t care. i want to know everything about you.” you flush, and sana adds, “also, if you think that’s bad you should meet my family. i’ve grown up with struggles of not being up to par with my relatives and being the laughing stock because of my lack of success. it’s half the reason i’m calling out of thanksgiving tomorrow. that and the fact that i’m working.”

“what?” you gasp, sitting up. “you’re working tomorrow?”

sana toys with a lock of your hair. “people get injured everyday unfortunately.”

“we should do something.”

“you don’t want to eat here?”

“i get one dollar pizza with irene at least once a week. we should do something special.”

a grin cracks sana’s face in half, radiant. “what if i made us dinner?”

“you can cook?”

“of course i can. i even have a special bacon mac and cheese recipe.”

“but i don’t have bacon.”

“we can take the subway to the grocery store and then take it back to your house when i can cook. c’mon, it’ll be fun.”

you bite your lip to suppress a smile. sana kisses it free. when she pulls back, you lean into her palm, lashes fluttering against the skin of it.

“okay, you lead the way then.”

—

grocery shopping with sana is efficient.

she doesn’t linger in aisles to windowshop. sana simply grabs what she wants and goes, one hand gripping a pack of bacon and a box of mac and cheese, the other hand clasped with your own. they’re in and out within five minutes.

the subway ride is almost as quick but fun, which is a strange thing to have on the g-train but it’s true. sana crowds you against the pole, shielding you from the other passengers as she whispers her judgment of them in your ears, speculating that the married couple standing across from them is miserable, will always be miserable, because they can’t ever feel what you and sana do.

the game is mean-spirited, you know, but sana’s ridiculousness makes you laugh. makes your stomach bubbly and your body light, fizzy like you’re made of crisp champagne. as sana kisses the curve of your ear, you think that you quite like the idea of being in on an inside joke with her.

you’re stumbling into the apartment within the hour, teeth chattering from the cold. sana removes your coat and scarf, hanging them on your rack before taking the grocery bag and hurrying into the kitchen. she looks excited, her lips spread wide in a near-permanent grin. you settle onto one of the high chairs, watching sana waltz around your kitchen like it’s familiar to her. it must be at this point.

“so. bacon mac and cheese.”

“a family recipe,” sana says, pulling a pot from the bottom cabinet. “my grandma used to make it for my mom when she was a kid. growing up pretty poor so she says this was basically a delicacy to her.”

“i can relate. when i was little, my favorite thing to eat was those cup ramen noodles that mina and auntie used to throw bits of beef and chicken in.”

“cup ramen is always good.”

sana fills the pot with water, placing it over the stove top and setting the heat on high. she then walks to your fridge to pull out a bottle of prosecco. “this is fancy.”

“hardly,” you snort. “i got it for fifteen bucks.”

“all wine target the same whether it’s five or fifty dollars. take it from someone who drinks the fancy shit at parties,” sana says, popping the cork off. she grabs two glasses and files them halfway before passing one to you.

sana raises it. “cheers.”

“happy thanksgiving.”

so you and sana drink. relishing in the sweet, crisp burn of the prosecco as it goes down, the alcohol warming you instantly. sana’s eyes on you are equally warm and dangerously fond. you take another sip to swallow down the mutinous rise of hope.

soon enough, the water starts boiling and sana pours the macaroni in, stirring it. you like it. you like the look of sana in your kitchen, her ease. the domesticity implied. you basically want to sink into it.

you get off your chair to slowly approach sana from behind, sliding your arms around her middle and leaning your cheek against the curve of her shoulder. sana leans into you, and you rise up to your toes, pressing lips to her cheek, kissing sana softly. when she sighs, head tilting down, you kiss sana again. again and again. wanting a tattoo of your affection to be left behind.

dropping back to your heels, and sana’s gaze finds yours, soft as silk. she curls her hand into your hair and brings you close, mouth against your forehead, nose in your hairline, breathing in.

“go sit down,” sana murmurs. “finish your drink.”

you step away from sana, chest hollow like you’re leaving something behind.

—

sana feeds you bites of mac and cheese that tastes a bit burnt.

“a capricorn mars?” sana asks, lips around the same fork. she dips it back into the bowl to fish for more macaroni. “what the fuck is that?!”

“okay so, everyone has planet placements—asteroids too but that’s more specific—and each of the planets has a specific meaning. i already explained that your sun sign—”

“capricorn.”

“capricorn, right—was the core of your personality. your moon sign is your private face, or your emotional center. mercury is communication. venus is romance and aesthetics—which might be an additional for you. and mars is aggression and sexuality.”

“and mine is in capricorn?”

“yeah, and capricorn is the domicile of mars.”

“it means that capricorn and virgo are already ruled by mars. the placement feels natural.”

“ah.” sana’s arms tighten around you, setting you higher up on her lap. “so that means i’m naturally aggressive and sexual?”

“no,” you laugh. “it means that it’s just an easier fit. that there isn’t any friction between the planet and sign. like, capricorns are very expressive in their confidence and humility. grounded with their words and they don’t sugarcoat what they say, they mean it.” you say, tapping sana’s chin, tugging on it with your thumb. “and they do it straightforwardly. mars suits it.”

sana nips at your thumb. “like you aren’t.”

“i’m a gemini,” you say. “a dynamic sign. two sides to show to the world.”

sana grins, and you move your hand up pushing her hair back. “how do you know all this stuff anyway?”

“i had a light…astrology phase in high school.”

“astrology?”

“yeah. my stuff might be off, but that’s to the best of my memory. but i dabbled with oujia birds. summoning, that kind of shit.”

“summoning?”

“i never actually summoned anything,” you mutter, flashing. “none of the spells worked.”

sana laughs, which earns your glare. you shiver when she reaches up and traces the curve of your ear.

“this explains the bit of eye bags to sell the dark look i’m getting out here.”

“pfft,” you stifle a laugh, turning your head off to the side. “the eye bags were from an insomnia phase i had during my first year of college. i didn’t know how to function at times, and my roommate was genuinely concerned when i brought up my terrible last two years of high school. i think i might’ve scared her.”

“really?”

“that’s another story for later, but let’s just say that it wasn’t pretty if you saw me like that.”

“wow,” sana says, impressed with your growth and resilience. “i was totally normal during high school.”

“i see and believe that.”

the only warning before sana flips you over and pins you on the couch is a flash of teeth, a mean smile. you cry, “the macaroni!” but sana already has it safely on the ground, her other hand moving to tickle your ribs. you’re shrieking, jerking in her hold.

“don’t!”

“what?” sana asks, laying over you, fingers sliding up your waist. “you’re ticklish?”

“no.”

“i think you are.”

“i’ll kick you.”

“no, you won’t,” sana says, but traps your thighs between her knees anyway. she lowers her head, mouth warm against your neck. “you’re too sweet.”

“sana—”

she offers you no mercy. with a simple crook of her fingers, she’s tickling you, trapping you against teh couch as you squirm and giggle beneath her. sana’s hands dip past your shirt to find your bare skin, relentless. while you writhe, sana shoves her face into your neck and hums.

“y-you’re–sana, you’re gonna kill me!”

“no, i’m not.”

“i can’t—” you erput into another laughing fit, tears in your eyes. “i can’t breathe!”

“you’re such a baby,” sana says, but slides her hands away to rest them on either side of your head. once you’ve recovered, you wrap your arms around sana’s neck and secure her to you. sana kisses the ridge of your jaw, sinking into you with a deep exhale. as if expelling a weight inside you.

“do you want to watch a movie?” you ask, fingers toying with the ends of her hair.

“sure. something nice.”

“like what? a rom-com?”

“yeah. i like those.”

you laugh. “do you really? i was expecting you to be more of a different answer than that.”

“were you expecting action movies?”

“but you prefer romance?”

“if they’re good.” when you look at sana disbelievingly, defensiveness enters her tone. “what?”

“i don’t know. a lot of people didn’t like them because it set unrealistic standards. or, at least that’s what my ex said.”

“well, your ex was a fucking idiot,” sana says heatedly. “there’s nothing unrealistic about it.”

there’s nothing unrealistic about grand, sweeping gestures and spotanoeulsy confessing your undying love in the middle of an airport?”

sana raises her head from your chest to look at you. “not unless if you’re a coward.”

you snort, a slow start to what would eventually become a full belly laugh. sana’s expression sours with every giggle, but when you throw your head back and knock it against the arm of the couch, sana reaches out to cradle it. while you recover, sana chooses a move, fingers soothing the bump.

—

by the time the credits of the second movie roll, sana rises from her position on your chest to sit up. she rubs her palms over her face, yawning.

“i have to go,” sana says with some regret, her eyes half-lidded. “i have work in the morning.”

you want to protest but feel ridiculously for it, childishly selfish. instead, you give sana a tight smile and follow her to the door, grabbing her coat from the rack to help her in it. you then take her scarf, pretty purple and wooly in your hands, holding out to her. sana smiles and drapes it over her neck. the open door behind her lets in an icy chill, and she binds you against her, broad palms cupping your face.

you love sana’s eyes. it strikes you suddenly as she tugs you closer, dazzling brown swallowing your vision. you wish the whole world could be that color. it could be that beautiful.

“i’ll call you tomorrow,” sana says.

your voice is soft, too small in your throat. “okay.”

sana smiles and ducks down to kiss you, lips warm and sweet and awfully chaste. you surge closer to meet her, trying to deepen it, but she doesn’t let you. she simply pecks the swell of your bottom lip again and leans back to look at you. the overwhelming affection on her face sends a bolt through you, sends a shiver up your spine that she mistakes for chill. concern flares in her eyes as she takes the scarf from her neck.

“are you cold?” sana asks, already pulling it off, settling it over your shoulders. “is it because the door is open?”

“i—” you can’t speak over the wool that covers your mouth. sana sloppily wraps it around you, her own body heat bleeding into you, nestling sweetly like hot chocolate beneath your skin. after she’s thrown the tail over your head, she tucks the scarf under your chin and asks, “is that better?”

“yes,” you manage to croak out.

sana smiles again and kisses you for the last time. when she steps back, the distance hurts. “i’ll see you later.”

“see you soon,” you whisper out to her, hand lingering out. the last thing you see before sana locks the door behind her is her smile.

it almost hurts not to follow.

—

“y/n!”

you pause, just steps outside of the auditorium. turning to see doyoung, your thesis editor and a TA for the psychology and ethics class. you smile as he approaches you, adjusting your coat against the chill. “hi.”

“hey,” doyoung says, grinning. “you just watched the lecture, right?”

“yeah. it was great. i didn’t know you were gonna attend.”

“i didn’t know you would attend either,” he says. “if i did, i would’ve asked if you wanted to sit together.”

smiling, close-mouthed, unsure of how to respond to that. doyoung barrels on before you can settle on anything. “do you want to meet her?”

“who? the lecturer?”

“mrs. cho, yeah.”

suspended in time for a second, you blink. “you know her?”

“yeah! i was one of her research assistants about a year and a half ago. she’s great. do you wanna meet her?”

“uh—sure, i would love to,” you say, a bit mystified, trailing after him when he starts to walk back into the auditorium.

doyoung leads you towards the stage where a woman who appeared to be around your height stands, chatting amiably with one of your professors. when doyoung calls her name, she looks over to you, sending a broad grin.

“kim doyoung?” she asks. is that you?”

“yes, ma’am,” he says, climbing onto the stage, reaching back to help you up. “it’s really nice to see you again.”

“it’s great to see you! how are things?”

“great!”

“and you’re almost done right? got not long now before you’ll be on the way out into the real world.”

“yeah, i’ve got most of the things done before applying for graduation. i even do some editing for other students on the side. speaking of.” doyoung reaches back, setting his hand on your back to gesture you forward. “this is one of the students i edit for.”

mrs. cho shifts her attention towards you. noticing how remarkably pretty she was up close compared to sitting a few rows back. she has bright red hair that was noticeable from far, fair skin with rosy cheeks that encapsulate a bubbly personality when she spoke to the class. for some reason her laugh and mannerisms were similar to a familiar person. you couldn’t put your thumb to it, but the fact that her occupation was also in the medical field should’ve sent the alarms ringing.

“and who this might be?” she asks.

“y/n l/n. she’s a bachelors student in the pipeline for the masters program.”

“y/n–” her eyes shot up. you’re startled by the intense reaction of you, the way her jaw drops like the two biggest dots were just connected. “y/n l/n? are you actually y/n l/n?”

“uh.” you’re glancing at doyoung who seems confused as you were. “y-yes, that’s me.”

mrs. cho covers her mouth with both of her hands, hiding her smile. “my goodness that’s amazing! do you know sana?”

“sana?” your heart swells, stomach sinking as the realization slaps across you ten-fold. how could’ve you been so blind? one of sana’s closest friends, miyeon. miyeon. sana’s shown the pictures of her on that one hangout they had when they were in medschool, dressing up like boys with dad hats backwards and nerdy glasses that looked surprisingly cute and wished sana looked like that for you.

“no way.” you breathe out.

“oh my god!” miyeon echoes. “this is crazy!”

“who is sana?” doyoung asks, reminding you abruptly of his presence.

“my best friend,” miyeon eagerly replies, gaze unwaveringly on her face. “this is incredible.”

“you know me? or at least about me?” you ask, reeling. “sana…she’s told you about me?”

“of course she has! she talks about you all the time. she even mentioned that you were a psychology student, but i didn’t know that you studied at this university.”

your lips quick. “what a small world.”

“it definitely is. so tell me more about your degree. sana said that it had something to do with kids?”

“well, yeah. i’m studying child’s psychology with a cognitive-behavioral focus. doyoung’s helping me with my thesis right now actually.”

well, you might’ve just embarrassed yourself. doyoung already mentioned that to her.

“interesting, but cognitive-behavioral?” miyeon playfully raises her brows. “what are you doing attending the lecture of an exponential researcher?”

“i find it to broaden my avenues, besides being well-rounded.”

miyeon laughs, delighted. “that it does, my dear. sana said that you were bright in studies.”

your cheeks flush, the natural instinct to ask for what else, what else has she said, forming. that is, until doyoung says, “sorry. i’m a little lost. how do you know sana, y/n?”

speechless for a moment, you’re transported back to the soft golden lights and the shine of her oxford shoes, the taste of lemon drop martinis on your tongue. the four seasons and five hundred dollars in your purse, completely unexplainable much like sana is, because there are no words to describe her.

there are, however, words to describe you.

“y/n,” miyeon says, leaning forward to take your chin on her fingers, startling you. “is the greatest gift sana ever had the pleasure of finding.”

and all at once your excitement dashes into nothing, letting dread sink into you, curling around your body like a vice, tigeting around your neck. suddenly, miyeon’s enthusiasm takes a different meaning, another shape. it’s not friendly but sordid. not curious but propositional. maybe, it might’ve been, if sana ever offered to share.

it’s the thought that makes your heart crack open. just a few days ago, she was in your house, laying over you, kissing you with enough affection that you could drown in it. you thought—you’re not even entirely sure why anymore but you thought—it was real. it could’ve been real. the hope was there.

“wow,” doyoung says, laughing awkwardly, but the sound barely registers over the roaring din in your ear canals. “i didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”

she’s not my fucking girlfriend, you’re saying to yourself visioulxy, spiterully. with sorrow. sana’s not your fucking girlfirned and she never was. you were just her gift. a thing to fuck around with.

“i’m sorry,” you say, blinking fast, speaking through the lump in your throat. “i really have to go.”

“oh.” miyeon looks genuinely disappointed, but you can’t be sure. perhaps it’s because she was hoping you’d offer a more nicer regard than what just transpired now. you wonder about the stories sana’s told, if she’s shown miyeon your pictures. “well, it was nice meeting you. i hope we’ll see each other again.”

you nod once, a jerky motion, and a spin of the heel to race out of the auditorium. by the time you reach to the chill outdoors, you’re crying, hot tears streaming down your face, heartbreak nearly forcing you to the knees.

wiping them away roughly, shame makes you red-faced. once you tended to the other cheek, fingers tugging the scarf around your neck, it feels like a collar to a degree–and you’re choking on another sob.

a terrible tragedy it seems, to be owned.

—

avoiding contact, you’re fielding sana’s calls for the next week or so.

you can’t claim that you don’t mean to because you do. every text asking is everything okay? something wrong? gets a yes, of course. every text asking are you okay, are you mad at me? gets a no. no, of course not. why would i be?

how amusing that you have a chock-full of little excuse, but the end result still stands: you don’t want to talk to sana.

this also means that you're miserable.

the tried-and-true method of compartmentalizing your feelings ceases to work when your sorrow over sana bleeds into everything. you can’t focus enough to do your assignments, be mindful enough to smile at work, to write when doyoung says that you should. to eat, even, because it’s hard to stomach anything when you’re angry at her and it’s hard to exist and not speak to her. over the course of three months, sana’s embedded herself into every facet of your life. function without her now is like forgetting how to breathe.

you could say that you’re taking the misery right on the chin, pushing through it like the grown woman you’ve claimed to be, at least proficient enough to hid from everyone else not involved. tzuyu notices this, she notices everything, and she makes it her mission to know about everything.

which is why you’re not surprised when she randomly bursts into your room on a saturday night, phone still buzzing from when she tried to call you.

“get up!” tzuyu snaps, marching over to yank your covers off; you’re curling over the pillow. “come on, get up! you’ve been ignoring my calls for, like, a week and i’m sick and tired of your wallowing.”

voice muffled into the sheets. “‘m not wallowing.”

“yes, you are,” she says and throws open your blinds, exposing the stained brickwall on the other side. “irene told me you didn’t go to class with her this week, which i know means that you were holed up in here crying or something. which, i might add, you never informed me of, so not only are you sad but you’re keeping secrets from me. bad friend behavior, y/n.”

“it’s not bad friend behavior. i just didn’t feel like talking about it.”

“well if you’re not gonna talk about it, you’re gonna do something else.” you hear your closet doors open and perch your head up to see tzuyu rifling through your clothes. after a moment, she makes some pleased sound and toesses a white dress onto your boed, one that sana had bought you a few weeks ago. the memory is blanched just by looking.

“we’re going out tonight,” tzuyu announces. “i have shuhua waiting in the car and i made plans to meet up with irene and a few friends of mine at a club in manhattan. i’m not leaving till you get dressed.”

“i’m not going.”

“yes, you are.”

“no.”

“you are.”

“tzuyu,” you say, with a note of pleading. “i really don’t want to go.”

“and i don’t care! you’re going.”

“no,” you repeat firmly, drawing your knees up to cocoon yourself. “i don’t want to go. i don’t want to drink or go to manhattan—”

“does sana live in manhattan?

“i don’t want to talk about sana.”

“well, it seems like you don’t wanna do fucking anything!” tzuyu throws her hands up, lovely face twisted up with exasperation. she nudges the dress closer. “and like i said, i really don’t care. if you’re not gonna talk about your feelings then do something equally as unproductive and distract yourself from them instead of crying. you’re being ridiculous.”

“no, you are,” you retort acidically, and it seems as though your outrage needed an outlet, because you can’t stop yourself from spitting the vitriol that spills forth. “and you know what? you are ridiculous. in general, you are fucking ridiculous. you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth and you act like it. me signing up for that stupid app was your idea. me meeting sana was because of you. and sana—” calling me her gift, reducing me to something that’s owned, tainting the concept of belonging— “i-it’s your fault. everything is your fault. it’s your fucking fault!”

tzuyu’s face is unchanged, perfect and placid as it always is. finally, while you heave, restraining another fit of tears, tzuyu exhales deeply and tilts her head, expression softening. “are you good now?”

“no,” you mumble. “i’m angry.”

“good.” tzuyu sits down on the edge of your bed and tugs you close, resting your head on her shoulder. “be angry with me. just don’t hole yourself up in your room alone. you’ve done enough of that.”

you sag into tzuyu. “i’m sorry for yelling at you. what happened isn’t your fault.”

“it kind of is.”

“no, it isn't. maybe giving the idea was, but everything i did was because it was a choice i mad. even being hurt now is my fault. i always knew what i was to her.”

“so? it’s kind of difficult to have sex with anything for three months and not get attached to it. i get weepy when i have to throw away my vibrators.”

you snort, pushing tzuyu away. met with a smile of hers with your own, “are you ready to go out now or do i actually have to respect your wishes this time.”

debating, eyes flicking to the dress by your foot. you know how it looks on you, how the fabric shimmers under a certain light and the fit clings to your body. you know it’s effect on sana, even, how her eyes darkend when she first saw it on you, how she raced to get it off. the faded memory stings as the thought of sana always does now, like a sharpened blade, but tzuyu is right. it isn’t healthy to sustain this level of feeling for days on end. maybe it needs a change of pace.

“fine,” you say, looking at tzuyu. “help me get ready.”

tzuyu squeals before grabbing your face to let her kiss your cheek.

—

you and tzuyu greet shuhua by the car just half an hour later, who rolls down the window to wolf-whistle you as they approach. tzuyu opens her coat and grabs you by the hand to spin you around.

“you look hot!” shuhua says. “i’ll be surprised if you don’t go home with somebody tonight.”

cheeks flushing after the compliment. “oh, uh, i’m not really—”

“honey, don’t scandalize y/n so early in the evening,” tzuyu says, popping a kiss to her mouth as she gets in the car. “you know y/n doesn’t talk about ex–say in polite company.”

“since when am i polite company?”

“hi, shua,” you mumble, sliding into the backseat.

“hey, babe. are you excited?” shuhua turs around. both her and tzuyu stare at you expectantly from the front seats, making you feel strangely like a child on their first day of school.

“...yes…”

tzuyu sends shuhua a firm look. “start the car.”

it’s saturday night, the drive from queens to manhattan takes about forty minutes. you’re spending the majority of the ride staring out the window, willing yourself not to think of the familiar surroundings, of the shops along the street that have developed new meaning. luckily, before you can get lost in your budding melancholy, shuhua parks the car along the side of the street and unlocks the door. with a sigh, you step out.

there’s a long line leading into the club that tzuyu bypasses with ease, simply flashing her ID at the bouncer before he allows you three inside. the club is ritzy but stereotypical. brith, multicolored flashing lights threaten to blind you and the pumping music that makes your ears ring. hand in hand, tzuyu directs through the throng of gyrating bodies to a VIP lounge near the back, where you can see a round table filled with people.

irene notices you first, and she jumps out of her seat to rush toward you, bee-lining for you specifically, enveloping a hug that you gratefully sink into.

“you look so pretty!” irene yells when she steps back. “i was worried you wouldn’t come!”

“i did!”

“thank god! come say hi to everybody!”

following her to the table. irene slides back into the booth to nestle beneath the arm of a handsome black-haired man that you recognize immediately, much to your delight. “seulgi!”

she cracks a smile. “sup.”

“i didn’t know you’d be here.” or really, that their relationship had progressed so well. perhaps you might have if you kept in touch more proactively, which suddenly makes you feel like a very shitty friend.

“how are you?” you ask, sitting down next to the pair.

“i’m good. you?”

“i’m…well.”

“uh-oh.” seulgi pushes a drink towards you. “be grateful i can’t cut you off tonight then.”

not thinking of a reply, uncomfortable at having been perceived so clearly, you raise the straw to your lips.

“hey tzuyu! we’re here!”

the three of you look over to see three people ambling towards you, a shorter woman in front, two slightly taller behind her. up close, you can see that she has dark, long hair. she’s wearing a black leather jacket with a handbag to her side. when she catches your eye, she smiles.

tzuyu leaps up from her seat to hug the woman, extricating herself quickly to hug the other two women tagging behind. her voice is a squeal when she screams, “dahyun!”

gesturing to them to sit down next to her, and as they all scoot into the booth, dahyun’s attention flickers towards you, down to your dress.

“y/n! y/n, this is my friend dahyun! she has a brother that works on the same racing team as him!”

“hey.” dahyun says, leaning forward, extending her hand, and you shake it. when you pull away, she wraps her arm around the brunette beside her.

“this is minju,” dahyun says, and points to the blonde at the end of the booth. “and that’s somi.”

“it’s nice to meet you all,” you say.

“it’s great to meet you. you’re y/n, right?”

“yeah.”

“cool!” dahyun’s mouth curls, more a smirk than a smile. “tzuyu has told me all about you.”

“has she?”

“yep. she thinks you’ve hung the fucking moon or something. is it true you volunteered at a women’s shelter for fun?”

you blush at the question. “i wouldn’t say for fun. i just…got along with the kids there really well.”

“a saint is what you are, according to tzuyu.”

“oh, i wouldn’t—”

dahyun surprises you when she stands up and slides over chaeyoung and somi to sit next to you, smelling the rich perfume she put on. your fingers bunch up the dress when she throws her arm over the back of your seat.

“so,” dahyuns starts again, sinking into the vinyl seat, too comfortable. “what else do you do aside from rescuing cats from trees?”

“i’m not a firefighter. never done anything like that.”

“it was a joke, lovely.” your flush depends, and dahyun adds, “but i’m serious. what do you do?”

“i’m a waitress currently, but i’m working towards my bachelors in child’s psychology. masters after, but i’m sure you knew that already.”

“yep.”

“and you?” you ask, taking a sip of your drink, beer bottle sweating around your fingers. “tzuyu mentioned you work with your mom?”

“yeah, just a normal front-desk job. pretty nice until all of the calls get backed up.”

“yikes. sorry to hear that.”

dahyun’s mouth quirks, and you swallow a squeak when she reaches over to ruffle your hair, startled by her familiarity. she keeps her hand there.

“you’re sweet, you know that?”

your face is burning red hot, stomach churning. you can’t think of anything to say but get off. “um—”

“but fuck the job conversation,” dahyun says, leaning closer to you, eyes flashing with mischief. “you wanna get fucked up?”

—

to your better judgement—along with the credit, this is something that you don’t really do on a weekend basis—getting fucked up.

it takes a few beers and sojus to get loose enough to smile freely. you’ve lost the count from five shots onwards to keep you laughing, swimmy. dahyun leads you to the bar to take more shots together—your idea—that’s immediately chased down with lime juice, shoved into your mouth by dahyun’s fingers. the burst of citrus in your mouth.

there’s no food to sober up with, so you decide to get that stored energy on the dance floor, sweating profusely. you switch between the different groups—first spinning around in a mid circle with shuhua and tzuyu, then joining irene and seulgi as they move together. you’re being dragged in between, irene laughing against your neck, head being thrown back into seulgi’s shoulder, the light’s over-bright above you, a shimmering multicolor. you’re laughing, and laughing, and laughing, even when a flash of green against the ceiling makes you want to cry.

it’s so easy to stop thinking.

which is exactly the case when dahyun finds her way onto the dance floor, swaggering. selugi spins you towards her embrace and she catches you, hands securing the waist, fingers sliding down to your hips. her voice rumbles from her chest and into your ears when she speaks, mouth skimming the curve orf it. “you know, tzuyu really wanted me to meet you.”

you wrap your arms around her neck. “she did?”

“yeah, she did. said you needed to meet someone new.”

“oh. i didn’t know.” dahyun leads you into a dance, slipping their knee between your legs. something cold curdles up in the pit of your stomach, but the warmth of the alcohol makes it easy to ignore. have fun, you remind yourself.

“yeah, thank god she did,” dahyun says.

the music, booming club/house hit, robs most of your hearing, but when you sway your hips and she follows the motion of it, moving with you, you can hear the dark rumble of her groan, can feel it when dahyun says, “fuck, you’re so hot. you wanna get out of here?”

that cold pit in the base of your stomach explodes, icy panic flooding your insides. dahyun’s eyes widen with shock as you push her away from you, and when she tries to tug you close again, you bat her away, snapping, “no.”

you stumble to the end of the club, shoving on your coat as you rush out into the cold weather. you tremble more from the alarm than the chill when you pull out your phone and scroll through the contact list.

sana answers before the end of the first ring. “y/n?”

“i’m coming to your house,” you announce, waving widely as you try to flag down a taxi.

“is something wrong? your voice sounds weird. do you want me to pick you up?”

“i’m coming,” you repeat. “to your house. so tell your doorman to let me in.”

“baby, are you sure you don’t want me to pick you up?”

the pet name stings. as does your persistent loyalty to her. wouldn’t have been so freeing to make her hurt? “no.”

“y/n—”

“i’ll see you now.”

you hang up just as a taxi stops beside you. opening the door and climbing into the car, slurring out sana’s address. given that her apartment complex is close, the drive takes under fifteen minutes. you had to swipe your card at least three separate times for the payment to go through. you nearly trip when stepping out, knees shaking and coltish, but right yourself quickly to march into the building. the red-headed doorman gives you a sour look that you meet with a scowl. thankfully, though, he lets you in without a word.

the journey to sana’s apartment is a blur. recognizing the soft elevator music and the ding as it opens. your heels click against the marble floors when you stumble down the hall, hands aligning against the wall to keep your balance. when you find sana’s door, you knock on it hard, speaking into the peephole. “it’s y/n. let me in!”

door swung open instantly; sana must’ve been waiting for you. heart throbbing when you see her, brown hair around her shoulder, barefoot and not-entirely relaxed, but she herds you in before you can get emotional, following you to the living room.

“are you okay?” sana asks.

“no.” you throw your purse down and wrestle to get your coat off. sana steps forward to help you but you shake your head, scoffing at her injured look.

“you’re drunk,” sana observes with disapproval., “why are you drunk?”

“i went out with tzuyu.”

“are you okay?” sana asks again.

“no. i’m drunk.”

sana’s expression shifts, wavering between panic and concern. you wonder what she has to be worried about, if she carries the past week with her the way that you did. but of course not, you think bitterly. why would she care at all?

“do you need water?”

you don’t reply, still struggling to take your coat off, suddenly overheated. sana watches you, making a frustrated sound deep in her throat. she runs her hand through her hair. “i don’t know what you wnat me to do then, baby.”

“i want you to stop calling me baby.”

“what?”

you whirl around. “i want you to stop with the pet names. i want you to stop with the gifts. i want you to stop sending me money. i-i want you to stop—talking to me like you care about me. it’s cruel, sana.”

“y/n, what are you talking about? of course i fucking care about you.” sana’s eyes widening. “did you take any drugs?”

“no!” you yell. “and no, i didn’t take any drugs!”

“then what the fuck is your problem?”

“my problem,” you spit, narrowing your eyes, speaking through your teeth. “is that i don’t want to be your damn sugar baby anymore!”

“what?!”

“yeah! your sugar baby, sana. does it make you feel bad when i say it? because it makes me fel fucking worse.” your voice cracking, shaking your head. “and i take it anymore.”

sana grasps the side of her hair. “take what? take what anymore? what the fuck are you talking about?”

“this!” you gesture between you and sana. “i can’t— i can’t keep pretending that i’m okay with this. that you can go to my house, fuck me, and then venmo me some money after like it’s okay. like i’m your—at first i thought it would be fine. it hurt me, made me feel sick, but i thought….i guess i thought that things would change but they haven’t. they haven’t and it really fucking hurts.”

“y/n, sweetheart, my love—” you flinch—”i’m really gonna need you to start making sense before i lose my fucking mind.”

“what doesn’t make any sense to you? my feelings? did you really expect that you could get to fuck me fore three months and i wound’t feel anything? am i that much of a fucking doll to you?”

“wha—?”

“you know, tonight i met this girl that was really into me,” you say, and giddily watch sana freeze. “tzuyu introduced me to her. she thought we’d be good together. she wanted me.”

sana’s face goes flat, hands stalling in the air between them. your pulse skips at the sudden coldness that grips her, the way her eyes darken, like the brief seconds of peace that precede the explosion of a volcano.

“what?” she asks quietly. “what did you say?”

“but i didn’t want her!” you cry. a jolt of panic runs through you, as fierce as your heartbreak. “i didn’t! she said she wanted to sleep with me and i said no! because of you, sana! because i like you! i really, really, really like you and i have feelings for you, and—”

“are you saying you could have cheated on me!” sana yells. “did you just admit to my fucking face expect me to thank you?!”

“cheat on what? you’re not my girlfriend, you’re my sugar mommy! thats’ what this whole argument is about!”

“i’m not your damn sugar mommy! i told you from day-fucking-one that i hated that shit! i think it’s disgusting! i told you that! if it were up to me, park jihyo would be dead in the fucking ground!”

“oh.” stumbling back. the shock crashing over in waves, realization threatening to wash over you. “i–oh, fuck. god.”

because sana was right. she did tell you that, just twenty minutes into the first meeting. her giving money to you after the first date misled you, given the impression that this was something sordid, but sana never acted that way. not once. she only ever treated you like…

you cradle your face when sana paces in front of you, muscles tense with rage. her fists shake by her sides, knuckles white, and you have the sudden urge to throw yourself down at her feet and kiss them, to beg for her forgiveness.

“i’m sorry. sana, i’m so sorry.” you gaps. “i didn’t—i misinterpreted everything, and i—”

sana stops in place to look at you, blazing eyes rooting you to the ground. your breath twists in your lungs as the words melt on your tongue, leaving you with nothing. because you have nothing. there’s nothing to say.

and sana takes you in, the trembling and tears, you being desperate for forgiveness. she runs a hand over your face, sighing heavily. “you’re way too drunk to be having this conversation.”

“i’m not.” you’re not lying. if you were a tad bit less sober, the doubt would be hurting just as much.

“yes, you are.”

“sana, i won’t be able to sleep unless we talk this through.”

“i don’t give a shit. you’re going to bed.”

you whimper as she marches past you, stumbling after her to follow. she stops when you reach the bedroom and open the door for you to head inside. you do, slowly, like you expect to face some form of punishment or further scolding, but sana only walks to her drawers and fishes for a t-shirt, holding it out to you.

as you take it, she leaves the room, giving you privacy to change. you sniffle quietly as you shove your dress down and off around your feet, and slip the shirt on. just as you bend to take off your shoe, sana comes back into the room, carrying a glass of water. she watches you struggle for a beta before sighing and placing the glass down on her nightstand. you nearly weep when you watch sana kneeled down in front of you, her hands going to your ankles. “sana, i—”

“not now,” she says, looking up at you, eyes still hard and angry, but her fingers gentle, thumb tapping your bone, “we can talk about it tomorrow.”

when sana’s done, she steps back, lining upr your heels against the wall.

“get in bed,” sana orders

“sana, i-i can sleep on the couch,” you say weakly. “i really don’t need to take your bed. i’ve had enough trouble already. ‘

“i don’t care. get in.”

“really, it’s—”

“get. in.”

her tone leaves no room for debate, and you clamber up to slip beneath the covers. you stare up at sana, hoping she’ll offer to climb in next to you, but she pushes the water towards you, instead.

“drink.”

“i’m not thirsty.”

“it’s not for your thirst. it’s so you have enough wits about you in the morning. and, also, for right now. i’m not exactly trusting your judgment.”

sana drops three ibuprofen tablet into your palm. while she watches, you dutifully swallow each one, gilt hollowing out your stomach. you open your mouth to speak, but she nudges the glass up, silently demand you drink. she doesnt’ stop until you’ve downed the whole thing. once it’s empty, sana nods with satisfaction and steps back.

“we’ll talk in the morning. for now, please go to sleep.”

“sana.”

“go to sleep,” she repeats, an edge to her voice. “if i hear anything else, i—” she stops herself. roughly shakes her head. “i can’t guarantee what i’ll do next.”

you flinch when the door slams shut behind her, throwing yourself down onto sana’s pillow. a sob builds in your throat when her scent hits you in full force, and you inhale it greedily, chest stuttering as you curly around it, clinging to it like it can morph into her skin.

and sleep is also unkind. it’s only gracious enough to give you any reprieve when the sun peeks over the horizon. you fall into it fruitfully.

—

you’re awoken to a soft touch, a hand gently shaking your shoulder. “y/n. y/n, get up.”

sana’s voice registers, at first distant and tinny, then overwhelming, a sharp spiek into your barin. you jolt up, nearly headbutting her as you scramble to face her. sana moves to sit on a chair she’s pulled up the side of her bed. she looks at you calmly, her hands folded over her knees, foot bouncing, because she can never be fully at ease. her body doesn’t let her.

“good morning.”

everything that you’ve been feeling the night before suddenly rises to the surface again in an overwhelming rush. you can’t even think to compose yourself. your head and heart aches too much to try.

“i’m sorry!” i cry. “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry. i didn’t— i honestly thought—i don’t know why—no, i do know why but—i didn’t think i was cheating on you. i thought you were my s-sugar mommy and i thought our relationship was transactional. it’s why i was so nervous when you met mina because i thought she’d find out. i had no idea—”

you huff, words croaking out into a sob, and sana moves her chair to the edge of her bed to cup your face. you lean into it, tears smearing against her skin.

“i’m not going to say that i’m not angry, because i am. or that i’m not confused, because i really am. but i think i’m starting to understand where the confusion is.”

“i’m sorry.”

“is it because i gave you money?” sana asks, ignoring it.

you nod. “yes.”

“even after i told you that i thought that shit was gross?”

“it wasn’t then,” you say. “i didn’t go out with you with dual inteitinons. i thought it was a date.”

“which it was.”

“i realize that now.”

“so, it was after? when i sent you—”

“a thousand dollars, sana,” you breathe—still, even now, in disbelief. “which, you have to admit, is a little ridiculous to send someone you met when they were first trying out to be someone’s sugar baby.”

“that’s why i sent it. i knew you needed it. i though you’d understand.”

“i didn’t. and even if i did, can’t you admit that’s strange? or at the very least, kind of offensive?”

“no.” sana slides her hand down, thumb tapping your chin like she did when she first kissed you. “id’ be strange if it was for anyone but you.”

a rosy flush stains your cheeks, spreading high. “i don’t know what that means.”

“i think you do.” she slips her hand away and leans back. her face hardens when she says, “no about that girl—”

“we never kissed!” you say desperately. “we never kissed. she never touched me, not really. we just danced. i only said that because i wanted to provoke you.”

“you nearly did. i swear to god, y/n. i wanted to do something about that.”

you grab sana’s hand and lift it between you two. “i’m sorry. i was being spiteful.”

“it’s fine. i’m not angry with you.”

“you’re not?”

“no. but if kim dahyun—”

“how do you know her name?”

“she texted you. i blocked her number—ever ends up horribly injdured and is brought to me as a patient, i’m passing the cart to the next surgeon.”

“you’re not funny.”

“who said i was joking?”

“sana.”

before you can scold her, sana wraps an arm around you and secrues you to her, heart pouding a slow righym against your ear. you feel her chin drop onto your crown, her hand sliding up your back.

“i love you, y/n,” sana says. her hold tightens when you freeze, but she continues, undeterred. “i love you and it only took me about a week to realize it.”

tears crowd your eyes in earnest. sana’s name comes out as a gasp, but she pulls you back to cup your face, thumbs stroking your cheeks. “i love you. this has never been transactional for me. not once.”

“i—”

“you got something to say to that?”

“sana.” she stops to watch you, eyes going soft as you start to weep. she presses her lips to your forehead, then shifts so that your face falls into her neck. you cling to sana, mouth moving against the skin of her. “...’ove you.”

“what?”

“i said i love you.”

“i know. i just wanted to hear you say it again.”

sana laughs when you pinch her side, and you two settle into a comfortable silence s you sid and hold each other, sinking into bliss. that is until sana says, “does this mean you’re cool with getting married? you know, eventually?”

“what?”

“i told you i wanted to marry you and you said you loved me. that wasn’t a no.”

“you didn’t propose.”

“i thought i was implied.”

“an implication is not a proposal, sana. that’s been our whole issue.” you say as sana frowns. “and i don’t wanna think about getting married until sometime later.”

“so what do you want to do in the meantime, wander around like two hopeless romantics that we are?”

“well—” you rise up to your knees, words purposefully slow as you push sana to the bed and climb over her. her hands find your waist, sliding up. you kiss the grin from her lips.

“just stay close to me. that’s all i ask.”

#hyunie #twice imagines #twice x reader #kpop x reader #sana x reader #twice sana #sana #minatozaki sana #minatozaki sana x reader #sana imagines #twice fluff #twice angst #sana angst #sana fluff #twice x you

333 notes · View notes

crushmeeren · 5 months

Text

Gojo/Fem Reader Drabble

Warnings; age gap (you’re 24, Gojo is 40), major daddy kink, praise kink, vaginal sex, anal sex dirty talk, cursing, Gojo really gets turned on by the fact you’re younger than him—as do you

Note; God. This turned out way longer than I wanted it to be. It’s probably about 1000 ish words? Probably less, I’m not sure, but it’s an AU where Gojo is the definition of a single DILF & you are his new babysitter. Things progress from there..enjoy 💕

When you first got recommended to babysit for Gojo Satoru—you hadn’t thought much of it. You needed the money and you had a great track record. You had heard good things about the man in the circles of moms, but you had never met him yourself.

You heard how ethereal the man is, but you just brushed it off as exaggeration of bored housewives. Either way, the other families you had worked for gave you glowing recommendations. The only thing you felt was out of place was that he was a single dad.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that, you just usually deal with the moms. Whatever, no skin off your back—it’d be fine.

To your immense satisfaction, it was. It is. Gojo has the most wonderful four year old little boy—Megumi. You love that kid as if he’s your own and he loves you. But, the moms were not wrong—Gojo is angelic. Snowy white hair, clear blue eyes. Tall as fuck.

You were not even the least bit surprised when your thoughts started turning wildly sexual towards him. Hell, he’s a DILF if there ever was one. You did feel a bit guilty though. You’re not here to lust after your boss. You tried to squash those thoughts for a long time.

Nevertheless you couldn’t get used to his god like stature. Only made infinitely worse by the fact that he’s pushing forty—and you’re only 24.

When you learned that tid bit of information, you shamefully rubbed fast circles into your clit after you got home that night just to the thought of calling him daddy while he fucked you. If it’s not obvious—you have a huge daddy kink.

After almost a year of your pathetic, overwhelming pining for the man, your stomach fell out of your ass when you learned the white haired man had the same—if not more lewd thoughts/feelings about you.

He had invited you stay late one night after Megumi had gone to sleep, watch a movie, drink some wine. You agreed, because well at this point you were past the point of friends and it was the weekend. Plus, you were very close to both of them.

The two of you had drank enough wine to loosen your lips. Not sloppy, but enough for the lines to get blurred. For you to start calling him Satoru. Enjoying the way it made him blush.

For Satoru to drunkenly admit he’s been shamefully lusting after you for months. For him to almost forget he was telling his deep dark secret to the person it’s about.

You sat side by side on his fluffly couch, thighs pressed together, heads fuzzy. Satoru had his head thunked back onto the sofa, eyes closed while you admired how long & lean his legs really were.

When the man just blurted the words into existence—no prompting needed.

“I’m a terrible person,” he mumbled, eyes still closed. You hummed in question, focusing intently on his snowy eyelashes. “I think—no I know, I have feelings for you. I feel so guilty for wanting to have sex with someone so much younger than me—so fucking bad,” he slurred, shifting his head and opening his eyes to look into yours.

Warmth instantly curled in your gut, you felt the enticing burn of arousal blistering through your limbs. Your pussy involuntarily throbbed.

You quietly admitted that you felt the same way, cheeks burning as you confessed to touching yourself thinking about him. Satoru leaned in close, giggling.

“Don’t worry little one, I stroke my cock daydreaming about how your tight, young pussy would feel hugging my cock. Bout how much I could show ya. Bet you don’t have that much experience do ya little girl?” Satoru drawls, wolfish grin on his lips.

You could only whimper at the filthy words, shifting your thighs as he trailed the soft pads of his fingers up the sensitive skin of your forearm, over the inner crease of you elbow, tickling the underside of your bicep. The thick, heady tension between you two pulsing through the air.

You don’t know who leaned in first for the kiss, but now you’re in Satoru’s bed—wine long forgotten. Both of you bare ass naked, tangled in his blankets.

Satoru has a large, sweaty hand clamped over your mouth, trying to keep your whines muffled in his palm.

You’re trying not to wake up Megumi as Satoru has you ride his cock. Pussy stretched open blissfully, so slick—Satoru’s cock kissing your cervix.

Satoru is sitting up, back against the headboard. Knees bent, feet planted so his thighs act as a cradle for you to rock your hips back and forth against.

He’s making you work for your third orgasm. He was eating your pussy not even five minutes ago. Now, Satoru trails his free hand down your spine, following the knobs down to the crease of your ass.

You squeal a surprised, muffled version of his name into his palm as he presses the pad of his pointer finger against the pink, taught skin of your asshole. Your hips stutter.

Satoru’s eyes brighten as if he’s just tried a new sweet and loved it. He tilts his head at your reaction. He shakes his head condescendingly, making a tsk noise when you stop moving.

“That’s not my name is it sweet pea?” He teases, pressing his finger harder against your rim. Your eyes flutter shut and you shake your head no, low moan escaping you. “Tell me what it is,” he demands, blue eyes piercing. He takes his hand from your mouth.

“Daddy,” you choke out softly, nails digging into his shoulders as he continues to loosen the ring of muscle. You’ve come to a stand still in his lap, unused to the sensation.

“That’s it, what a good girl for daddy,” Satoru purrs. “Say babygirl, has anyone ever fucked that pretty ass of yours?” He muses, raising one eyebrow and biting the tip of his tongue.

“No daddy,” you whimper. His cock twitches inside you.

“You gonna let daddy be the first one?” He presses harder on your rim, tip of his finger sinking in. You yelp. “Promise daddy’ll make ya cum like you couldn’t believe,” he coos.

You feel a bit nervous, worried about the pain, but after so long you trust Satoru. You nod your head, happy to give him this first. His head thumps against the headboard as he groans. The hand not in your ass squeezing your waist violently.

Quickly Satoru helps you rise off his cock manhandling you until your cheek rests on the sheets and your ass is in the air. Satoru steps off the bed to grab lube from nearby.

Your belly flutters, pussy clenching when you admire just how tall he really is. How his cock is glistening from your pussy.

He’s behind you again before you can think, rubbing your lower back soothingly as he slowly presses one lubed finger into your ass. You gasp, fingers clenching the sheets shakily. The sensation unfamiliar, burning, uncomfortable.

“Shh, it’s okay little girl, I’ll make you feel good,” he soothes, pumping his finger in and out for a couple minutes. You take a deep breath, relaxing as Satoru presses his middle finger in along his first finger, all the way to his knuckle.

“Daddy!” You squeal, forgetting to be quiet. The stretch is overwhelming, a mix of a dull ache and pleasure. Satoru bends over your back, gripping your hair and shoving your face into the mattress.

“Hush,” he hisses, stretching you open with his fingers, scissoring them. You nod, almost sobbing in the sheets. He lets go of your hair and you keep yourself muzzled. You hang on, thighs twitching as Satoru works a third finger in, loosening your rim to his satisfaction.

You don’t even notice at first there’s three, it’s starting to feel amazing. So yes, you do whine when he pulls free, empty sensation almost unbearable. Satoru chuckles, lining up his slick cock with your ass.

“Don’t be like that sweet pea, daddy’s just gonna use his cock to fuck you now, mkay?” He teases, rubbing his tip over the soft, warm skin of your rim. You turn your head, whispering your yearning to him.

He wastes no time, gripping the base of his shaft and pressing forward, tip popping in past your rim. The sharp sting causing you to tense up, before it fades to a dull ache.

Satoru lets out a twisted version of a whine, carving a space in your ass with his cock until his curly white pubes brush your ass.

“Okay little one?” Satoru pants, petting your lower back, straining with the effort to stay still.

“M’okay daddy,” you whimper softly, ass clenching rhythmically around the thick cock splitting you.

Satoru sucks in a breath through his teeth—ass sucking his cock in so well. He grips the fleshy area at the crease of your hips and thighs, nails digging brutally.

Satoru starts with a teasing backwards pull of his hips, until his tip remains. He smoothly pushes all the way in and that’s when you understand. It clicks in your mind.

The pleasure from anal sex is divine, brain melting as he rocks his hips back and forth, creating a smooth, fast paced rhythm. It’s intense, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before.

A warmth burns violently in your lower belly like you’ve never been pleasured before. It’s so fucking good, you immediately know you’ll be addicted to having his cock in your ass. Your grip doesn’t loosen on the sheets below you.

“Daddy,” you moan after a few moments. Trying to be as quiet as you can, wanting Satoru’s attention. Hearing the skin of his pelvis clapping wetly against your ass has you already on the verge of cumming.

“What baby? Daddy’s cock feeling too good?” He teases, breathlessly. He watches his cock disappear into your puffy rim as he waits for your answer.

“Mhmm,” you whine. “M’gonna cum already.” You muffle your sob in the blankets. Satoru laughs meanly behind you, but he thrusts harder at your words.

“Already?” He questions incredulously. “That was fast” He purrs, tilting his hips so he’s hitting your sweet spot through your ass. You’re letting out continuous ah sounds as your orgasm winds up tight, the intensity of it making your heart rate spike.

“Daddy—cumming,” you manage to squeak. Going silent as your orgasm pulses through your entire body. The blood in your veins thrums at a dizzying pace. You almost feel high as Satoru fucks you through it.

“Oh god. Yes, fuck—just like that, my sweet little girl,” Satoru groans through clenched teeth, raining his palm down harshly on your ass. You cry out, feeling your ass jiggle from the spank.

Your thighs start to shake as Satoru doesn’t let up in his movements, but you start to float down from your high, still getting railed by Satoru.

“Daddy,” you slur, trying not to scream into the sheets as he chases his own orgasm. “Can’t take it, no more please,” you whine, trying to move forward. He just giggles, gripping your hips and pulling you back into his thrusts—he knows you don’t mean it.

“Just a lil longer sugar, mkay? Daddy’ll paint your back white, promise,” he coos, sounding blissed out. You nod, taking in breaths that rattle your chest.

Satoru throws all his weight into the next few thrusts, forcing a wail out of you that neither of you pay any mind to. Lost in the bliss.

“Fuck fuck fuck, daddy’s g’nna cum sugar,” Satoru whines, yanking his cock out of your ass—which causes your rim to clench painfully.

He fists his cock twice before he lets out a strangled sound. You feel long ribbons of warm cum all over your back—even up to your shoulder blades.

Satoru lets go of his cock, sitting back on his heels, panting. He pulls your legs out from under you so you can rest on your belly.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt so satiated in your life. Every inch of you feels like jello. Neither of you speak for a moment, getting your bearings. You still can’t breathe yet.

Eventually, Satoru pats your ass comfortingly before standing from his bed to get a damp wash cloth to clean you with. You lay there limp as he wipes his release from your skin. He pokes your rib playfully but you only twitch, opening one eye to look at him.

“You alright little one? Did daddy fuck you too well?” He teases, giggling. You hum, nodding your head. He actually laughs this time, head tilting backwards.

A soft knock on Satoru’s door makes the two of you jump in surprise. Your heart skips a beat and you raise up to sit on your knees.

“Daddy?” Megumi’s tiny voice calls out softly. “Are you in there?” You and Satoru share a panicked look. Thank God you locked the door.

“What is it my love? Are you okay?” Satoru calls out fondly. You’re shocked he’s able to keep a steady voice.

“Come lay with me daddy, I had a bad dream,” Megumi whines, little sniffles coming through the door. Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest from the little boys sad voice. Satoru’s eyebrows scrunch in concern.

“I’m sorry you had a bad dream Gumi, I’ll be there in a second to lay with you bubba, go lay back down,” Satoru soothes.

“Mkay.” Megumi’s soft footsteps fade away as he makes his way back to his room. Satoru looks at you guilty but you give him a sweet smile.

“Go, it’s okay—poor Gumi, I hope we didn’t wake him,” you whisper, feeling bad. Satoru looks at you like he’s in love—he is, and kisses your forehead.

“I’ll be back, then we have to discuss how to tell Megumi we’re dating tomorrow. He’s gonna be surprised to see you so early.” Satoru pulls on a pair of loose sweats and heads towards his door.

You hum in agreement, something warm and sweet settling in your heart that Satoru already assumes you’re dating—which you’re not complaining.

You watch the door shut behind him and you shift around pulling on the t-shirt Satoru was wearing, snuggling under his sheets and promptly pass out. You sleep peacefully knowing Satoru will return soon to wrap his arms around you and hold you tight.

452 notes · View notes

literaryavenger · 2 days

Text

Careless

Summary: Part 2 of Thoughtful.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avengers!Reader

Warnings: My poor attempts at being funny. No use of Y/N. Fluff. Angst. Tony being kind of an asshole. Bucky's self-deprecating thoughts. Reader being dumb.

Word Count: 1K

A/N: I keep having no idea what this is, I have no endgame but I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

Part 1

Stark parties are a hassle. Tony always insists on the team dressing up, cocktail dresses, tuxedos and all that.

So that’s why you’re all dolled up right now, a black sparkly floor-length gown that highlights your curves perfectly with a slit that goes up your left thigh with black stilettos, your hair curled perfectly and your make-up on point thanks to Natasha and Wanda, gold hoop earrings finishing the ensemble.

The only thing that looks like it doesn’t belong on your right now are Bucky’s dog tags hanging from your neck.

Things with Bucky have been going relatively good, you’re not really dating but neither of you let a moment pass without trying to flirt with each other. You enjoy the attention he only gives you and he enjoys making you flustered.

You’ve even managed to make him blush himself a few times.

You haven’t taken his dog tags off since that morning Bucky put them on you, and that’s not gone unnoticed by the team who have had a field day teasing you about it. Just never enough to bother you and make you want to take them off.

Until now.

“Come on, they look so out of place!” Tony says while chuckling as you roll your eyes, drink in hand while you stand in the middle of the party while talking with Tony, Scott and Maria.

“Leave her alone, Stark.” Maria comes to your defense and you give her a grateful smile. All the girls think it’s adorable that you wear Bucky’s tags.

“He’s not wrong, though.” Scott chimes in. “That’s a beautiful get up, but the tags stand out, and not in a good way.”

Anyone else, you’d be creeped out, but you know Scott is in a happy relationship with Hope and he doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s more of a girlfriend at this point.

“I don’t care.” You say simply, sipping your drink. “I like them, and I’m not taking them off.”

“You haven’t taken them off in weeks.” Tony points out, a dangerous smirk starting to grow on his face. “Could it have anything to do with the particular soldier that gave them to you?”

You roll your eyes, knowing where Tony’s going with this because he’s gone there countless times now.

“It has nothing to do with Bucky, I just like them.” You say causally.

“You like him.” Tony says childishly while the other two snicker at your groan. “Maybe you even love him.”

You scoff and almost glare at Tony. “I don’t love him.”

“Then prove it.” Tony says without missing a beat. Obviously he has you exactly where he wants you. “Take them off.”

“What would that even prove?” You roll your eyes again.

“Prove to me that they don’t mean as much to you as I think they do. Take them off.” He keeps grinning at you, challenging you.

“You’re a child.” You say simply, having no intention to accept this silly challenge.

“Yes, I am.” He says and all four of you chuckle, before Tony takes it one step further. “Take them off for a week and I’ll give you ten thousand dollars.”

You give him an unimpressed look. It’s not a surprise, Tony’s known to do this kind of thing all the time. He once bet Sam twenty thousand dollars if he went streaking for at least 4 blocks around the tower.

His ‘falcon’ was on the paper the next day.

“Come on, if you’re so sure I’m wrong, why not make some money off my arrogance.” Tony says with a smirk when you narrow your eyes at him, he knows you’re considering it.

“Fine.” You say after a pause. You hesitantly take the tags off and put them on Tony’s outstretched hand. It’s only a week and it doesn’t mean anything, you tell yourself.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky saw the whole thing from a distance. And it meant plenty to him.

He couldn’t hear what you were saying even with his enhanced hearing because you were far away and the party noise was almost deafening, but Bucky saw you clearly as you took off his tags and gave them to Tony.

To Tony.

Did they not mean as much to you as they did to him? Was this whole thing just a joke to you? Was he making a fool out of himself thinking you liked him as much as he liked you? Maybe you just liked the attention. Maybe you were fucking with him, having fun at his expense because he convinced himself you like him, because how could he even think someone like you actually likes him? Maybe you’ve been laughing behind his back while he’s been falling for yo-

“Hey, Sergeant Grumpy.” His thoughts are interrupted by your playful voice that just a minute ago was the single greatest sound that he wanted as the soundtrack of his existence for the rest of his life.

But right now, it’s making his nostrils flare with barely contained anger while he almost glares at you.

You think nothing of it, convincing yourself that maybe the party is making him anxious like it usually does. After all, Bucky doesn’t do good with strangers.

Or maybe Sam has been getting on his nerves more than usual tonight. Whatever it is, you want to make him feel better.

So you wrap your hand around the tie of his suit and pull him towards you a little, copying the move he’s now done countless times with his dog tags around your neck.

“You wanna hear something funny?” You ask playfully, wanting to tell him about the bet you just made with Tony and thinking Bucky will get a kick out of it and it’ll take his mind off of whatever has him in a bad mood.

But you get no chance to say anything more since he takes your hand away from his tie.

“Leave me alone.” He says with a harsh tone you’ve never heard him use towards anyone, let alone you. “Forever.”

That said, he walks off and out of the room in the direction of his quarters without giving you a second glance, leaving you to look after him, too dumbfounded as your mind tries to play catch-up.

What the hell just happened?

Requested Taglist: @marvelcasey05 @ordelixx @alltoounwellread @capswife @sapphirebarnes @rio-reid-whoreee @theunknownmarveluser @alltoowellread @a-very-fictional-girl

185 notes · View notes

beardedjoel · 7 months

Text

pretty little wife | meet cute, part 1

joel miller x f!reader one shot collection

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | ✨kofi ✨ summary: 8.3k words; you didn't feel like going out for your friends birthday that night, but it turned out fate had very different plans for you. or a flashback to the night joel and pretty wife met. warnings: 18+ MDNI! no apocalypse au, relationship not established here like the other chapters, unprotected piv, public sex, rough sex, sub/dom relationship, dirty talk, pet names for reader, alcohol consumption a/n: this was getting super long and has been so much fun to write so i'm splitting it into two parts to also show their first date! i'm actually so obsessed with them its getting delusional and not even funny anymore but i digress

You hadn’t particularly wanted to go out tonight, but it was your friend Hanna’s birthday and her soft, doe-like eyes when she’d begged you to come had you giving in quickly. Sure, you had what felt like a million things to study for, homework piling up, but the more you thought about it, the better a night out sounded.

She’d picked a relatively nondescript dive bar as her venue of choice, saying that it had cheap drinks, and seeing as it was her 21st birthday, she wanted to get drunk for as little money as possible.

You and about ten other girls file into the bar, immediately having what feels like every set of eyes in the room on you all. You’d bet it’s not every day that an overdressed, loud group of young twenty-something’s walks into this place ready to get plastered.

You all crowd around a few tables, pushing them together, and Hanna spots a jukebox, excitedly gushing over the way she’s going to put on all of her favorite songs later and dance when she gets drunk enough.

After your first cocktail, you’re already having so much fun that you wonder why you even had any doubts about coming out tonight. You laugh hard at something one of your friends, Rachel, says and your face falls immediately as your attention catches on something across the room. Not something, but someone.

A man, who you’d guess is somewhere in his forties or fifties from the looks of it, is sitting with his own group. Even in the darkened shadows of the room, you’re mesmerized - he has a grumpy smile on his face as he chats with the person next to him. He runs a hand through grown out, dark curls and you can see the top half of his body above the bar top, muscled and broad and so inviting.

You force yourself to blink, about to look away, when you see his eyes catch on yours. You feel your heart sink, hoping he didn’t catch you staring so intently, but swear he gives you a little wink before turning back to his beer that he’s nursing in one hand. Your insides flutter at the gesture, hoping your delusional self didn’t just imagine him sending that wink your way.

You feel your stomach twist, and realize that despite how attractive you think he is, you’re typically way too shy to make the first move, so it’s unlikely much will come of this newfound attraction. You couldn’t help but continue to glance at him while you chat with your friends for the next hour, drinking in his mannerisms and ruggedly good looks, wishing you could hear what he was saying across this crowded, noisy room.

You’d never felt like this before upon simply seeing someone, and it made your brain buzz more than the alcohol was, a steady little humming in the back of your mind. In fact, you hadn’t had more than a cocktail at this point, and were actively trying to blame this crazy feeling you were having on anything other than the handsome stranger you just couldn’t seem to stop staring at.

You decide maybe another drink would help, so you break off from your friends to go up to the bar and order something.

You’re looking over the list of cocktails on a concerningly sticky laminated menu, scrunching your face up in disgust. You knew this place was divey, but their list of cocktails is downright depressing. Your first one hadn’t been very good, either, so you decide to change directions and order a beer instead.

You glance around the room as you wait to catch the busy bartender’s attention while they flit around, taking orders and making beverages. Your eyes widen a bit as they land on Handsome Stranger, who is now openly meeting your gaze without shame.

You try to avert your eyes out of pure embarrassment, but you keep yourself staring for a moment too long before nervously chewing your lip and gazing down at the bar, pretending to be overly interested in the menu again.

When you gather the courage to glance back up at where he was sitting, Handsome Stranger is gone, and you survey the area in a tiny panic, swinging your head to the side only to see him curving around the edge of the bar and walking straight towards you.

He’s coming over. Oh god.

He settles himself against the bar right next to you and clears his throat a little, cocking his head.

“Hi, there,” he says, and your jaw nearly drops at the husky, rasping accented voice that drips off his tongue like one of the sweetest sounds your ears have ever heard. You actively fight a shudder that wants to wrack your body, thinking of what that deep rumble would sound like against your neck, your lips, your everywhere.

You give him a nervous chuckle and swallow hard, hoping he doesn’t notice. “Hey,” you reply, wishing you suddenly felt less shy under his dark, brooding gaze. You suddenly are overly aware of how loud the room is, a myriad of classic rock, pop, rap, and everything in between blaring through the speakers from the jukebox the entire night. The realization hits you that you two may have to get closer to hear each other coherently and your stomach twists a little in anticipation.

“Listen, I don’t usually do-“ he starts, but you can’t catch what he’s saying over the noise, so you scrunch your brows together and cup your ear in his direction.

“What’s that?” You feel like you practically yell the words to him, your cheeks heating as he starts to lean closer. His face is merely inches from yours now, his mouth angled towards your ear. You get a better look at his face now, his dark, wiry beard with a few graying patches, and some deeper set lines in his face surrounded by speckled, tan skin. He’s rugged and handsome and everything that turns you on personified. It’s actually insane, now that you think about it, to see someone so seemingly perfectly made for you looks-wise, let alone have them interested in talking to you.

“I said…” the man says, clearing his throat again. “I don’t usually do this kinda thing, but…” he trails off, studying your face for a few moments. You watch on intently, already enraptured by his words, not even able to form a follow up to prompt him to continue speaking.

“But you’re so damn beautiful I had to say somethin’ to ya before you snuck away,” he says. His voice hits deep in your core now that it’s closer, sending you belly swirling in a sickly addictive feeling, one that you already know will be hard to shake tonight. You blink hard, wondering if he’d managed to speak to the wrong girl, but he’s looking right into your eyes without an ounce of doubt hidden behind those dark irises.

“I… don’t know about that…” you mumble, but he cocks his head further, brows knitted together.

“Would never say somethin’ like that if I wasn’t telling the truth,” he replies a bit more seriously. You bite your lip and decide that maybe you do trust him - that this handsome, mystery man really does have eyes for you in a bar full of attractive women.

“Well, thank you,” you say, puffing your chest up a bit with a smile. “You’re not too bad looking yourself,” you add on, finally feeling a bit of your icy shyness melting away.

He chuckles lightly, rubbing a nervous hand behind his neck, leaving a red mark in its wake. “Would you have a drink with me?”

You lick your lips and then bite the bottom one, contemplating. You don’t fail to notice Joel’s eyes flick down to that exact spot, then to your throat where you swallow again.

“I’d like that.”

“Somewhere quieter?” he calls out towards your ear, and you nod enthusiastically. He orders you two drinks, shooting an eyebrow up when you request a beer as well, and leads you to a small, cozy booth off to the side where there at the least aren’t speakers directly over your heads.

“Now,” he rumbles out, folding his hands on top of the table “What’s a girl like you doin’ here?” he asks as you slide into the seat across from him and settle in.

You breathe an amused laugh through your nose. “My friends,” you say, motioning with a thumb over your shoulder in their direction, where they’re seemingly still having a great time together, a fit of giggles as they all sip their drinks. “One friend wanted the divey experience tonight for her birthday, I guess. Cheap drinks.”

Handsome Stranger’s eyes flick past you to your friends, and you see a flash of recognition as he processes Hanna’s extremely gaudy 21st birthday sash. You can see the gears turning, see him putting the pieces together as his lips part from the tight line they’d been settled in.

“Hmm,” he grumbles, eyes back on you and seeming to consider you for a moment, taking in your face and making you feel your body temperature suddenly rising. You want to tug on your collar, do something to alleviate it, but can’t give him the satisfaction.

“Shit,” you mumble under your breath, breaking completely under his stare. “I- I’ll be twenty two soon, so… I’m not…” you trail off, losing all conviction in whatever message you were trying to convey. Handsome Stranger has been too quiet, too guarded regarding this new information, and you feel your stomach turn nervously.

“Did I just mess this up?” you blurt out, your face betraying you completely and contorting into a worried expression. He gives you a tired sounding chuckle, running a hand through his beard then back around to his neck.

“No, darlin’, sorry. I - I don’t have a problem with it. Jus’ needed a second. You look… a bit older, so I was surprised, I guess.”

Your shoulders sag in relief - you hadn’t expected to be so devastated at the prospect of losing your new acquaintance’s attention so quickly, and only because of your age. You’d always been interested in older men, and had even been on a few dates with some, but nobody that pulled you in immediately like the stunningly gorgeous man sitting in front of you now.

You lower your eyes to your lap, wringing your hands together. “You don’t have to be nice, I understand if you’re not interested. I’ve ended up being too young for a lot of guys I’ve talked to.”

“You’re talkin’ to a lot of guys my age, are you?”

Your eyes shoot back up to him, finding a new confidence that he’s still flirting with you. You shrug casually, fluttering your lashes a bit as you smirk. “Maybe, maybe not.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, frowning. “I gotta say, I don’t think I like that.”

You lean forward on the table, folding your arms in front of you as you rest your forearms down to support yourself. You stare into his dark yet warm eyes and try your best to cock an intimidating eyebrow.

“And why is that?” you ask, upping your voice an octave, trying to sound more innocent.

Handsome Stranger takes a deep breath, sighing and mirroring you by leaning himself closer to you. You can inspect him even closer now, smell the beer on him and whatever that musky, manly scent is that he carries with him, something you can already tell will be addictive.

“‘Cause I want you all to myself.”

You stun at his words a little, knowing that your face is giving it away - your confident, fierce facade fading in an instant. You lick your lips nervously, his dark, desirous tone digging deep inside of you, lodging itself in your core and starting another pooling of arousal between your legs. You finally turn your lips up a little, meeting his gaze with a hard stare again while you put your chin in your hands.

“You’ve got me right here, don’t you?”

He seems to like that, breaking the intensity between you two with a small laugh, leaning back and taking a long sip of his beer.

“I’m Joel,” he says, and your smile widens as you consider the name on him, finding it suits him perfectly. It dawns on you that you’d been so absorbed in the conversation you didn’t even realize that you had no clue what his name was, that you may have even been content to fall in love with the man right here tonight and not even know his name.

You tell him your name in return and it gets a genuine grin out of him, like hearing it for the first time was an answer to a question he’d long been asking himself.

“You know, I could ask you the same thing - what’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?”

“Don’t think I look like the kind of guy who spends his nights in a place like this?”

“I mean… sort of…” you say shyly, trying not to laugh nervously. “You come here a lot?”

Joel seems amused by the way he’s getting you to blush and stutter. “Sometimes, with some crew from work. But that‘s what I'd expect, not… someone like you, honey. Ain’t no place for someone like you.”

“Well,” you twist your lips to the side teasingly. “I’m here, whether you like it or not.”

“Or not?” Joel chuckles incredulously. “Think I made it clear I certainly like it.”

You just give him a smug smile and sip from your drink, trying not to make a sour face in front of Joel, who seems to actually be enjoying his beer quite a bit. You’ve never been a big fan of beer, but it’s at least better than those stomach churning cocktails.

“So, here with people from work… what do you do?”

“Contracting. Jus’ started my own company, actually. With my brother.” Joel tells you, and you give him an impressed raise of your eyebrows.

“That’s really cool. Very impressive that you’re the big boss.” You lean in again to show your interest and toss your hair over your shoulder.

Joel’s eyes flash a little darker. “Like hearin’ that name from you,” he chuckles, “Otherwise it’s been a lot of pressure to be the boss, I guess.”

“Is it going well, though?”

Joel nods with a little shrug. “S’okay. Pickin’ up now so we’re doin’ good.”

You give him an encouraging smile, trying to think of what to say next, feeling like a nervous mess around him, wanting him to think you’re interesting and worth his time, not just some young girl with nothing to offer.

“Now what about you? Assume you’re in school?” he asks.

You try not to roll your eyes at the sore subject and breathe out a sigh. “Yeah, I am. I just… I’m not really into it.”

Joel looks on curiously. “Uh-huh. Boring classes?”

“Not even that. I just don’t… like it. I’m so tired of having no clue what I’m doing. I thought about teaching, doing something like that, but I don’t know…” You let out a small sigh. “Sounds entitled or stupid maybe, but I just can’t find my passion there.” You feel your frustration coming out unfairly onto Joel, dropping your hands onto the table with an irritated thud.

“Not at all, sweetheart,” Joel says, laying one of his hands on the table, offering it to you as he slides it over, resting it on top of yours. “Some people ain’t meant for school. I didn’t really have a choice to not go to college, but worked out alright for m’self, right?”

You nod with a thoughtful look, despite barely knowing much of anything about how things worked out for Joel, but you believe him. Or at the least, he sounded happy enough to be owning his own contracting company.

“Thanks,” you say simply, offering him a grateful smile.

Joel leans forward again on the table, not moving his hand from yours, and you feel hot all over. “‘Course. Now how ‘bout I help you find what you’re passionate about, hm?”

An hour and several more drinks later, you’ve moved over to Joel’s side of the booth at his insistence, where he pulled you nearly onto his lap, your thighs crossed over his as your ass is planted in the booth right next to him. A steady arm of his is wrapped around your back and pulling you close to him, stroking relaxed circles as you two chat. You feel perfectly content, buzzed from the alcohol and comfortable in Joel’s embrace, despite this being the first night you’ve even met him Something about him has put you at ease yet excited you, a consistent skittering of electricity across your skin where it connects to his.

You’ve discovered that you have more in common with a man in his mid forties than you might have thought. But along the way you’ve noted enough differences that you two have to keep the conversation balanced, having different interests and perspectives to add into the mix. Your banter has some kind of alluring pull with Joel, never stopping the beautiful flow of chatter and laughter you’ve found together until he leans in on a quieter moment, kissing your cheek and then moving to your neck. You feel your breath hitch at the warmth of his lips, your body stiffening yet going soft for him, breathing out shakily.

“Mm,” you whimper quietly, unsure if he can hear it over the noise of the room.

“Like it when I kiss you here, hm?” he rumbles, moving his lips to your ear where he ghosts his lips over your sensitive earlobe then back down to your neck.

“Uh-huh,” you manage to say, eyes fluttering as you lean further into him. He keeps kissing every sensitive little bit of skin on your neck, trailing down to your collarbone and inward. “Jesus…” you whimper as he suddenly sucks lightly on your neck, testing you.

“I gotta mark you, let everyone know…” he murmurs, sucking another spot not even inches away. You squirm, grinding your ass into the seat as you rub your legs together, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by Joel. “You’re mine tonight.”

You feel your cunt clench around nothing, squeezing tightly and wishing some part of him was filling that void, letting you squeeze around it while he practically makes you come just by putting his lips to your neck.

“Mhm… yours…” you mumble, lolling your head back in the throes of your pleasure.

“Taste so good, sweetheart, bet you’re just as sweet everywhere else, too,” Joel says, his tongue flicking along where he’s just sucked harder, testing the waters.

You can only moan quietly, not even daring to think about the other people in the crowded bar who could be witness to your overly raunchy public display. In fact, you find that you barely care, not with the way Joel’s lips feel like heaven every time they touch you, the way he’s making little satisfied noises next to your ear as your body responds to him.

“Joel…” you moan wantonly, starting to go more limp in his hold as he continues teasing you. He slips a hand between your tightly squeezed together thighs, bringing his palm up to cup the outside of your jeans. You know he must feel how warm and damp you are, even through the few layers there - he’s thoroughly teased you to a point where you’re hurting, your cunt aching and pulsing for him, dripping and soaking your panties.

“Christ…” you hear Joel exhale, his breath catching for a moment in his throat. “Fuckin’ soaked for me. Someone needs to get taken care of, doesn’t she?”

You only nod as he palms you harder while he’s speaking, desperate and unable to even find the words. You’re completely undone, trying to come to terms with the fact that Joel is about to ruin any other man for you in just a few short moments together.

“C’mon, then, let’s go,” Joel announces, patting your thigh, urging you to move. You follow him, beckoning you out of your seat with him, grasping your hand as he leads you to the bathroom. Your skin tingles where he holds your hand, his fingers intertwined with yours, and your palms sweat as heat courses through you, settling and pooling deep between your legs.

You two burst through the door, saying a silent thank you that it’s just a single person restroom at this bar - no stalls, no other people to shoo out of the way. Joel slams the door behind you with built up aggression and you hear the lock click.

He’s on you before you can even register that it’s happening, pressing himself close and wrapping one of his large palms around the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair. He pulls your head towards his eagerly, crashing his lips into you, not giving you an inch of space with the way he’s tugging your head closer.

You both ravenously clash teeth and tongues and lips until you’re practically breathless. One hand bunches on his shirt, clutching him to you, the other wrapped around his neck, burying itself in the dark hair that curls down. Your bodies draw together over and over, starting a steady grind on each other, barely even registering where one body begins and ends as you both chase pleasure using the other's body.

You moan quietly when you start to feel him against your steadily aching cunt, his erection warm and pressing against his jeans. Your hands shake a little with excitement as you reach in between your bodies to grab him outside the denim, and he groans into your mouth.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, finally pulling his lips away from yours. He looks down at your swollen, puffy lips, chin red underneath from his scratchy facial hair. He can’t take his eyes off of yours though, so bright and eager for him as your pupils blow out with desire.

“Don’t usually do this either, get random girls into the bathroom with me, swear,” he adds, and you laugh a little against his lips.

“I’m hearing a lot of that from you tonight,” you tease.

“Jus’ the effect a girl like you has on me,” he quips back, and you find your cheeks warming and flushing at his words. Despite having just met him not even a few hours ago, you find that you believe him, that you are someone special to him. This strange connection, this pull you feel towards him has you questioning many things, and especially the fact that you’re fully about to fuck someone in a public restroom - something you’d never have imagined yourself doing.

Until Joel.

He seems more in control now, leaning forward to pepper your face with kisses, catching the corners of your mouth and pulling away just before you can meet his lips again. You pout as he does it for the third time, moving his lips right underneath to your chin, soothing the irritated skin there from his beard hairs. He finally gives in, kissing you with an open mouth, lapping his tongue sensually against yours, while his hands slip down your back and to your ass. You nearly melt, the intense softness of the way his mouth is moving on yours is starting to make you dizzy. You lean closer for support and Joel catches your chin between his thumb and forefinger as soon as he pulls away from the kiss.

“Get on your knees f’me, hm?” he says, studying your expression to read your reaction to his request.

You only consider it for a moment, the hardness of the floor on your knees, the dirtiness of it all, but your body and mind both tug at you, your knees feeling a buzzing, like they need to go down and touch this cold, unrelenting floor for him. You’d never considered yourself a very dominant person in your past relationships, but you’d also never had anyone trying to dominate you.

Not like this, at least. Not with the tone he’s using, the way he’s looking at you like he knows you’ll do it for him, like he knows you want to listen to him. To be good for him.

Your knees bend, settling in front of him as you place your hands on his hips. You lick your lips absentmindedly, thinking about them settling around the cock you can see pressing against his pants. You feel a new flood of arousal at the thought, the way you’d never have considered doing something like this in the bathroom of a bar, but you like this side of you that Joel is bringing out.

“Fuck. Good girl,” he rasps, and you stop, your lips popping open at his words, like something in your brain suddenly clicked into place at what you heard.

“Can you s-say it again,” you ask quietly, reaching up slowly to his belt.

“What? Like being called a good girl, do you?” Joel’s smile curls into something sinister, and he tucks his fingers under your chin, making sure you’re looking up at him from where you kneel. “Jus’ happens I like to fuck good girls, so you’re in luck.”

You can only remind yourself to breathe as his words flood you, douse you in complete and utter arousal on every inch of your body, leaving you speechless. Your skin practically tingles as you wait for his next move, hands frozen on his belt.

“I’ll be good for you,” you whimper when he releases your chin, your head falling down a bit with the sudden loss of his support. Your hands get back to work, and Joel watches with satisfaction, a hand coming down to stroke the back of your head. You nearly find yourself purring like a cat, feeling a rumble of satisfaction deep inside of yourself at the gesture.

“Mm,” Joel says, his eyes narrowing down at you. “Much as I want your mouth on me, we’ve got our whole lives for you to suck my cock, pretty girl, and tonight… I need to fuck you. Like nothin’ I’ve ever needed before in my life.”

Before you can even reply his hands tug you up from the floor and you stumble into his arms, caught by the sheer size and strength of his entire body against you. He swings you as you crash into him, pressing you back against the sink counter. His hands expertly unbutton your black, skintight jeans, unzipping them and starting to shimmy them down over your ass, his lips still attached to yours.

“God damn it, makin’ it hard, ain’t you, with these tight little pants…” he murmurs, moving his full attention to pulling down your jeans, finally getting them to your ankles.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t like my jeans?” you ask innocently as you step out of them, and Joel takes in your black lace panties, wetting his lips at the sight. Joel just growls in response, a resounding yes, bumping you so that your ass hits the counter again.

“Up” A simple command, but you’re too lost in the moment, feeling every inch of his body burning into yours, so you hesitate. “Don’t make me ask again,” he snips, and you feel your insides twist, your cunt clench around nothing inside of your soaked panties at his commandeering tone. You stand on your tip toes and let him help hoist you onto the counter. He steps forward between your legs, his face now level with yours and his hips coming flush with you.

“Look at that… perfect fit,” he comments with a smirk, looking over the way your bodies are coming together, the way his cock will shortly have the perfect angle to slide into your tight hole.

You give him a little giggle. “Perfect…” you echo, smiling as you look between your legs and then back up to his face.

Joel’s thumbs dig under the waistband of your panties, starting to pull them down with the help of you lifting your hips. He holds them up, inspecting the slick, shiny stain you’d left, taking up most of the underwear. He simply shakes his head, fingering the wetness and smirking before balling it up and stuffing it into the back pocket of his jeans.

Amused, you smile dazedly at him and reach out to grab at his arms, pulling him closer. Your fingers dig into his muscled biceps and you bite your lip at how absolutely fucking hot it feels.

“Look at that little pussy, doll, so pretty, ain’t it. Gonna be all mine,” Joel says, peering in between your legs as he works on his belt and zipper. When his cock springs free from his jeans you try to hold back your stunned gasp, but Joel notices it, the way your eyes widen as you breathe in sharply. He’s not just big, he’s thick, and while you have some experience, this is certainly new and uncharted territory for you.

“Hey,” Joel says, pulling you back to reality as he puts both hands on the sides of your face. “I know, but we can go slow if you need. Won’t be upset.”

You’re reeling with so many different thoughts - the rational part of your brain wanting to take Joel up on that offer, but the absolutely batshit crazy for him part of your brain doesn’t care one bit, only wanting him to take you, make you his.

You slowly shake your head, meeting his stare from under your brows. “Don’t…” You wet your lips, pouting them out for him. “Go slow. Fuck me like you mean it, like I know you want to.”

Joel completely breaks, shaking his head and his expression twists into something completely feral, part of him gone to that other side of him, the one you know that needs you just as badly as you need him.

“So fuckin’ obedient. Such a good girl.” You clench at his words, finding your body practically has an involuntary response to hearing his praise, drunk on it and desperate for more. He smirks, pressing himself close, both hands snaking around to the globes of your ass as they sit on the counter and squeezing. He delivers a swift slap to one of them before tugging hard, bringing you flush with his cock now resting at your entrance. You moan and gasp with the pain and pleasure of his palm smacking your flesh but give him a needy look as encouragement.

“Gonna take me like the dirty little slut you are, lettin’ me fuck you in this bathroom,” Joel growls out as he presses forward, the head of his cock bursting into your entrance with one swift push of his hips. You whimper and nod to answer him, completely distracted now.

You can feel yourself clench all over, just the thickness of his head is overwhelming, but he doesn’t stop, just slides into you inch by inch and you swallow hard and try not to tremble too much. You feel his head kissing deep inside of you, and your mind is swimming, wondering how you’re even taking so much of him right now.

“Good girl, that’s right, take it so good…” Joel mumbles, his eyes hazy and dreamy as he feels you tighten and contract around him. He gently kneads where he’s holding onto your ass to try to soothe you.

Your hold on his shoulders reaches a death grip as he starts to move inside of you, slowly at first. You find yourself appreciating that despite telling him to fuck you hard, he’s still being careful at first just in case. You buck your hips forward, pressing him just the tiniest bit deeper. Joel hums a little and chuckles at your insistence.

“That eager, are you?”

“I told you to fuck me like you want to,” you snip back, rolling your hips into his again.

Joel leans forward to bury his face against your neck, sighing. “Gotta stop sayin’ that, darlin’, makin’ me crazy.”

His lips flit down to your chest, where your low cut tank top is askew now, tits half falling out. He palms one of them before pulling your shirt down so that they’re both spilling out.

“Don’t keep these pretty things from me, wanna watch ‘em when I fuck you,” he says, and you smirk, seeing how worked up Joel already is over you. It makes you feel so good, so desired, so unlike any other man you’ve been with before.

He slides his cock into you a little faster, picking up speed with each thrust until you’re sure you can’t take it anymore. You know your face is contorted into a mixture of pleasure and pain, unsure how your body is even accommodating his girth right now, feeling like you’re being split open, your insides completely full of him.

“My god, oh my god,” you mumble breathily, your brows knit in a concentrated look, trying to focus on the pleasure rather than the pain.

“Thas’ it, babydoll, you got this, focus on me,” Joel encourages you, and you try to relax your body, feeling yourself finally adjusting more to his size. “Good girl, take it so good, yeah.”

He looks down to where your bodies meet with a satisfied smile, seeing you stretch over and over as you take his cock repeatedly. He’s starting to hit a heavenly pace now that your body is molding to his, taking him like you were made for it as he starts to jackhammer into you. You moan his name quietly under your breath, holding back as you hear the drone of the muffled music outside the bathroom, reminding you that you’re in a public space.

“Feels good, don’t it?” Joel grunts out as he, “Be a good girl and be loud f’me. I can see you holdin’ back.”

“Feels so good… so big, Joel,” you moan out a little louder,

“Thas’ right, baby, my big cock fits perfectly in this tight little cunt, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, yes,” you nod eagerly, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck, anchoring yourself to him while he pounds into you. You’re deliriously accepting all of it through the pain, the kind that’s nearly addicting because your body knows it’s good. You respond heartily to him, squelching, pornographic sounds reverberating in the bathroom as he pumps his length in and out of you.

“Christ, you’re so fuckin’ eager, so fuckin’ wet… c’mere,” Joel says suddenly, pulling out of you and yanking you by the hips off the counter where you land on shaky feet. He spins you and thrusts you against the counter, fumbling slightly as he grabs at your ass cheeks and spreads them apart. One hand slams onto your back as his cock slides between your legs and splits you open again, the sting of the stretch coming right back to you for a moment as you gasp. He pushes down, laying you flat onto the cold countertop, your bare tits pressed against it.

“Up a little, let me see those perfect tits, honey,” Joel says, a hand going to your hair to yank on it, making you arch your back enough to get your chest off of the linoleum. “That’s right, there we go, so fuckin’ pretty,” Joel says, keeping his hand buried in your scalp, your locks gripped tightly in his palm to continue keeping you right where he wants you. You feel your tits bouncing like he wanted, your nipples grazing against the countertop each time he thrusts you forward. The sensitive buds send wave after wave of arousal through you each time they contact the cool surface, and as he lifts your hips slightly you nearly choke as he hits something deep and pleasurable inside of you.

“Oh… oh… n-no it’s too much…” you mumble, feeling like your eyes could start to cross every time you feel him pressing near this part of you, so you flutter them shut.

“Uh-uh. Eyes open, wanna see you lookin’ in this mirror at how pretty y’look right now.” Joel yanks tenderly on your hair, not as hard this time, keeping your attention. You pop your eyes open, and look at yourself, heavy lidded, cloudy, hardly recognizing yourself or anything around you. Only able to feel the way Joel is impaling you with the strangest, most intense, pleasurable feeling you’ve ever had inside of yourself.

“Wh- wh- it feels so - o-oh my god, I c-can’t,” you cry out at the tail end of your sentence as Joel jolts his hips harder, flesh slapping against flesh repeatedly.

“S’okay, you’re takin’ it so good, doll, that’s jus’ your g-spot, baby, don’t worry,” Joel says soothingly, switching over to a protective mode for a moment when he can see the worry flash in your eyes.

Your mouth falls open and you let out a languid, fraught moan as he tilts your hips a little more, catching the spot on a new angle. If you were being honest, you’d never stimulated your g-spot before - not by yourself, and certainly not with any other men, and now you were wondering how you’d lived without doing it for so long. It felt like the sweetest build up of pleasure, filling a hole deep inside of yourself with warmth, starting to tingle all the way through your body to the tips of your limbs.

“Fuck… don’t stop, don’t stop, please,” you cry out, feeling your knees shake, supported by Joel as he presses against you and keeps a tight hold on your hips. “I’m - shit - I’m coming, Joel. Harder, please.”

“So,” Joel spits out with a thrust. “Fuckin.” Thrust. “Polite.” Thrust. “Pretty girl.” He ups his pace even more, something you weren’t sure was possible and you’re bouncing forward, the edge of the counter digging into your torso and head nearing the mirror as he gives you his all.

You explode, a scream of his name clawing out of your throat when the pressure snaps suddenly, sending you practically convulsing, limbs taut and shaking as you clench in spasms around him.

“Babygirl, she feels so tight, squeezin’ me like that,” Joel murmurs in a wavering voice, continuing his unrelenting pace. He wraps his hands underneath where you lean against the counter, cupping your tits and pulling you up as he leans down to meet your body - flesh against flesh, the sweat forming on your back soaking into his soft flannel shirt. You can feel the damp warmth of the fabric, like he’s been sweating through it this entire time, and it smells earthy and like sex already. You feel your orgasm reach a peak at the thought of leaving your scent on him tonight.

“J-joel, come inside me, fuck,” you cry out, meeting his gaze in the mirror with a heady look. For once, Joel follows a command instead of giving one, grunting with a final push of his hips, shooting his spend deep inside of you.

“D-dirty little cumslut, wantin’ me to fill you up, make you mine, mmm” Joel says with a groan, his hips bouncing a few more times while he rides down his high.

You can only nod, feeling fully fucked out and limp while he finishes using your spent cunt. You know it’s risky, that you should have thought more before tossing the idea of a condom aside in your mind, before asking a virtual stranger to pump his seed into you, but you truly don’t care. You only care about Joel, about giving to him what you knew he wanted. He didn’t even have to say it, but the way he fucked you, so rough and unrelenting, he wanted this, wanted to mark you in some way that would stick with you long after he pulls out. He wanted you to go home, find his cum leaking out of you onto your legs for the rest of the evening, be reminded of what he gave to you, how he ruined you.

You both stand in place, breathing heavily until Joel makes the first move, pulling himself out and tucking his cock back into his jeans. You feel raw, achy in the best way, and Joel notices your hesitation to move and wraps an arm around the front of you, bringing his lips to your ear.

“Good girl,” he whispers, biting the lobe and you shudder. “Good fuckin’ girl, y’know that? God…”

“I like being a good girl for you, Joel,” you say lazily, shutting your eyes as you lean back into him.

“Music to my ears, sweetheart. Now let's get you outta here, it’s late and you need some rest.”

Joel leads you out of the bathroom after you both adjust yourselves back to some semblance of normal, a hand on the small of your back as you enter the loud bar, seemingly much less crowded now than when you’d entered the bathroom.

You see your friends, still grouped together but with a few more young, attractive men in the mix, crowded around a tiny table. Your friend Georgia spots you, waving you over with a slightly tired, exasperated look on her face. She’s the assigned designated driver for the night, and you can see that she’s more than ready to start heading out. You peek at the time on your phone and it’s after one in the morning.

“Come on,” she mouths, beckoning you dramatically and you can see your friends gathering up their things, saying their goodbyes to their new male counterparts.

You turn to Joel with an anxious look, and he grasps one of your hands, squeezing tightly.

“Go on, then,” he says softly, “Don’t keep them waitin’.”

You nod with a disappointed smile, wondering if you should have offered to go home with him instead. But the fact that he didn’t ask has already gotten in your head, so you lean forward to kiss him goodbye instead. He gives you a hungry kiss, one you could easily fall right back into, drag him to the bathroom again and let him do everything he just did all over again.

He lets you go, nearly pushing you away with a small growl. You hurry over to your friends, who are shoving your purse and jacket back into your arms and ushering you away. You sneak one last glance back at Joel, standing with his hands in his pockets, wondering how your life could ever be the same after tonight.

You’re in a complete panic, only minutes from your house, tears brimming in your eyes.

“Please, Georgia, we have to go back, we have to - I don’t,” you feel around your bag for something that isn’t there, that you know isn’t there. A scrap of paper, a note, anything.

“Babe, you need to calm down and tell me what’s going on,” she replies, cool and collected as usual.

“Th- the guy. The one I was with. I didn’t get his phone number. Fuck, I don’t even know his last name. I -” A small sob escapes you, and you don’t know where all this emotion is coming from all of a sudden. It’s like when you’d been with Joel, you felt so calm, so even, and you hadn’t even had a chance to think about your emotional investment in what happened tonight.

“Shit. And you think he would have wanted you to have it?” Georgia asks.

You blink, looking over at her, stunned that you hadn’t even thought of whether he wanted to see you again or not. You two hadn’t had a chance to discuss it before you’d been dragged out of the bar, but you’d gotten the sense he was intoxicated by you just as you were him.

“I - think so? It seemed like maybe he would have. But now I’ll probably -” your voice cracks and shakes a little bit. “Never see him again.”

Georgia squeezes your shoulder softly, rubbing circles on it. “I’m sorry, honey. It’s going to be okay though, alright? You never know, the world has weird ways of working things out sometimes.”

You sigh, knowing the chances of that are slim, seeing as nothing that spectacular has ever happened to you before, and you don’t see why the universe would start now. “What if he’s still there, though? We could go back, please…”

“The bar closed twenty minutes ago, you know he’s not there anymore. I’m sorry,” she replies, giving your shoulder a final squeeze before putting both hands on the steering wheel and pulling up in front of your apartment. The last thing you want is to go up to your cramped space, shared with two roommates, nothing feeling truly yours. You want to scour the streets, walk around Austin until you find Joel again, until you can throw yourself in his arms and know you’re going to see him again and again and again. You can’t believe it took you losing him to realize just how much of a hold he has on you after those few short hours spent together.

You hug Georgia a teary goodbye and trudge up to your apartment, each step feeling heavy and painful, until you reach your bed and lay down, crying until you finally find it in you to get up and get ready for sleep.

You’ll be okay, just like Georgia said. You’re still drunk, and that’s it, that’s why you’re so emotional right now. Tomorrow you’ll just be happy you had incredible sex and can move on with your life. Surely, that’s exactly how it will go.

In the morning, you find the pit in your stomach hasn’t dissipated in the least, flashes of memories from last night torturing you as you try to function the next morning. You could barely sleep last night, the few drinks you had not even able to lull you into any kind of rest. You pace your room, thinking hard with a hot mug of coffee clutched between your hands.

You know now that you have to see him again, talk to him again, even if just to confirm whether or not it’s what he wants to do. Then you could have something definitive - closure, or a new, budding relationship with the man who absolutely fucking ruined you.

You stop dead in your tracks as an idea hits you, one that could potentially lead you back to Joel. Your heart pounds anxiously as you pray that the idea works, that there’s something there, not just delusional, hopeless hoping. You rush over to your phone and quickly dial Georgia’s number.

“Georgia!” you call out a bit too loudly, barely able to hear yourself over the rushing in your ears. “Hey,” you say more timidly.

She groans sleepily on the other end of the line, and it’s not until then that realize you’re up way too early for how late all of you stayed out last night.

“Shit, s-sorry, I know it’s early, but…”

“What, babe? What could possibly be this important?” she groans into the phone teasingly, and you feel your cheeks heating up in embarrassment and shame that you woke her for something as silly as this, but you’re a woman possessed, on a mission to find Joel.

“I know, I know. I just couldn’t sleep. I feel like… he’s the one, or something. The guy from the bar. The connection was so crazy, and the sex, and I’m rambling now, god, sorry.” You take a breath, steadying your nerves. “My point is, you were sober last night. Joel said he was there with his work crew, so did you see anything? Any shirts or trucks or anything with a logo or a name for a construction type crew? Please,” you say, murmuring the last, begging word more to yourself or whatever higher power is in control of your current predicament.

You can hear the rustling of Georgia’s sheets on the other end and another sleepy sigh. “Let me think on it, okay? When I can wake up some more. I promise I’ll text you about it later.”

You two end the call and you start pacing again, your heart thundering in your chest, knowing every minute is going to be agony waiting to see what Georgia ends up texting you. The day drags on, hour by hour a wasted mess of a day, with your nerves too frayed to concentrate on much of anything - homework, studying, TV - none of it helps to distract you enough.

When your phone pings that afternoon you pounce on it, flopping down onto your bed with shaky hands, opening the notification from Georgia.

Miller Contracting.

Two words and you’re off to google after shooting her a thank you text with as many exclamation marks as you could slam out in the few seconds you wanted to spare before moving on in your search.

You find his business immediately, their shoddy little website that’s clearly was not made by any professional. It kind of makes you chuckle to think of Joel trying to make a website. The page features an uncomfortable looking photo of Joel and another man, who you can only assume is the brother he said he owns the business with. You immediately smile looking into his eyes, his hair looking a little more cropped and coiffed in this photo than it had last night. Underneath it, their phone number is listed, and your eyes widen, mouth going desert dry as you punch it into your phone.

You hesitate, your finger hovering over the send button, needing to be sure of what you’re even going to say. What if he doesn’t answer, or it’s his brother, or they even have a secretary or something? Your mind spins but you force yourself to dial the call, anyways, driven forward by an unseen force that you’re quietly grateful for as the line trills in your ear.

Ring. Steady breath. Ring. Another. Ring.

taglist: @aphterthoughtt@bbyanarchist@amy172@hazzaismyreligion @ohheypedrito@msmorningstaarr@kamcrazy123@madhere@huffle-punk@jupiter-soups

#your honor i love them!!!!!!!!#fic: pretty little wife #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #x reader

607 notes · View notes