#It's becoming clear that my mom and I are going to continue to come to words

[teapartyprincess4two]

Can you make a Latina reader x Matt sturniolo smut? You can make it up how you want it

Lipstick- M. Sturniolo

pairing: Thick!Latina!reader x Boyfriend!Matt

classification: fluff, smut

inspiration: request^^

translations: embedded within the story!

warnings: 18+, MDNI, literal sex, use of Spanish, Hispanic/ Latino culture mentioned, established relationship, slight cursing, traditional parents, mentions of alcohol, didn’t name any of the side characters, long

summary: Matt’s nervous to meet your family, but after making a good impression you treat him to a night full of kisses and lipstick stains.

—

Matt sits in the living room, nervous hands playing with the keys that hang from his belt loop. Your mother keeps him company, sitting on the sofa across from him as she asks him a plethora of personal and uncomfortable questions. Latina mothers are unashamed to prod into the personal life of others, especially when meeting their daughter’s boyfriend for the first time.

You’ve only been dating Matt for a couple of months, and although he seems like a nice kid, she’s not entirely sure she can trust your judgment just yet. The few boys you’ve brought home before haven’t always necessarily met her high standards. Matt hasn’t done anything to throw her off yet, but she’s sure she’ll find something to dislike. If he manages to stick around long enough, though, he’d surely grow on her.

“So what do you do for work?” your mom asks, momentarily looking up from her latest costura project to catch Matt’s anxious gaze. She expertly weaves the string in and out of the white lace, forming an intricate floral design in the process.

[translation: costura- sewing]

“Oh um… my brothers and I we make YouTube videos,” Matt doesn’t know where to look, he’s afraid to make eye contact but also afraid that if he doesn’t it’ll come off as disrespectful. He’s never been so nervous in his life, and from the look on your mother’s face he can tell that that’s probably not what she wanted to hear.

Your mother scoffs, obviously unimpressed with his answer. “Esta niña, siempre saliendo con los más huevones,” she turns her head towards the stairs. Matt’s been waiting for you to descend for over 30 minutes, and the awkward tension was even becoming too much for her.

[translation: “This girl, always going out with the laziest ones.”]

Matt coughs, taking a quick swig of the water bottle in front of him. He’s nervous, his hands are clammy and he has no idea what your mom just said. What was taking you so long?

“So is YouTube gonna pay the bills?” your mom was abrasive and she knew it, but she couldn’t help it. In her eyes, nobody was worthy enough of her babygirl. Matt remains silent, he doesn’t even know what to say, so she continues, “You know, when you two start having kids.”

The thought of having children at 20 years old terrifies Matt beyond belief, he can feel his hands getting clammier by the second. He understands that it’s a cultural dissonance, though, so he keeps his mouth shut. “We’re not planning on any kids soon, ma’am. We haven’t— Um, we haven’t really talked about it,” his voice trembles slightly, your mom was doing a good job of intimidating him.

Matt takes another swig of his water, his mouth was dry and he felt like his throat was closing up. “Oh, but you’re having sex with my daughter right?” the question is so unapologetically bold that it causes Matt to choke on the liquid, some of it managing to dribble down his chin.

“I’m sorry?” he chokes out, but he heard your mom loud and clear.

Finally, as if on queue, Matt hears footsteps coming down the steps. ‘Finally!’ he thinks, watching as your curvy figure rounds the staircase and enters the living room. Matt shoots up from his spot on the couch, his eyes immediately dancing over your entire body.

You’re wearing a fitted, black bodycon dress that reaches just above your knees. The spaghetti straps work to hold your bust in place, a gold necklace dangling delicately above the curves of your breasts. You push your freshly curled hair onto your shoulders, luscious locks framing your face perfectly. White lace-up sneakers adorn your feet, your ankle bracelet glimmering as you walk into the living room.

Matt can’t keep his eyes off of, every aspect of your being pulling him in and putting him in a trance. Your mom notices Matt’s inability to hide his attraction for you, “her eyes are up here!” His face goes beet red, eyes immediately darting up to your face.

You roll your eyes before sending Matt an apologetic smile, “Ya nos vamos, Ma.”

[translation: “We’re leaving, Ma.”]

“Bueno, mi niña. Pórtate bien,” she warns, bringing you in for a strong, warm embrace. Your mom’s change in behavior is so quick it gives Matt whiplash, but he can’t blame her for being standoffish with him. He understands that it’s her mother bear nature.

[translation: “Okay, babygirl. Be good.”]

You kiss your mom on the cheek, your red lipstick staining her face. You turn to Matt with a big, toothy smile sprawled onto your face. “You ready?” you ask, taking his hand in yours as you guide him outside. He nods and hums in response, squeezing your hand as he trails behind you in a lovesick daze. Your ass jiggles with each step and Matt wonders how he ever got so lucky.

“Sorry for taking so long,” you apologize once you’re in the car, getting situated in the passenger seat. “No problem. You look really beautiful,” he replies, starting the car and doing another once over on your body. You lean over the center console with puckered lips, “kiss?” He happily obliges, your red lipstick instantly transferring onto him. His pants are becoming tighter by the second and you notice it right away. Your relationship is still in its infancy, so even this has you blushing.

“Was my mom nice?”

“Mm yeah, some like that,” he replies with a chuckle, adjusting his pants and beginning the drive to your destination. You know he’s lying, but you’re grateful that he’s courteous enough to put up with your mom’s attitude.

“Just wait till you meet my dad and my siblings. They’re not as bad,” you say, the hum of the car engine and the low music in the background creating a calm atmosphere.

“Can’t wait,” he laughs, and although he’s nervous for when that day finally comes, he’s actually excited to become a constant presence in your life. It might be too early to say it, but he’s definitely falling in love with you, the tent in his pants making it obvious as ever.

—

A year has passed since that day and, as expected, your mom has warmed up to Matt. They aren’t super close yet, but she definitely sees him in a different light. She can tell that he truly cares for you and that what you two share is real, but the real test comes when Matt meets your dad.

Your dad works a lot, the manual labor taking a toll on his body that puts him to sleep as soon as he gets home. So, even if your dad is home when Matt’s around, he’s usually asleep or resting in his room.

Matt was nervous when he met your mom, but he’s TERRIFIED to meet your dad. There are so many factors to take into consideration; the language barrier, the cultural dissonance, the fact that he’s your literal dad! It doesn’t help that your siblings are gonna be there too, all of it makes Matt tremble with unease. But he’s been invited to your family’s cookout so he can no longer postpone it.

It’s a sunny Saturday afternoon. The weather is nice, it’s not too cold or too hot. It’s the perfect day for a cookout, and Matt should feel excited, but he doesn’t. Sweaty hands grip the steering wheel as he anxiously drives to your house. Chris and Nick are being dragged along as moral support, but unlike Matt, they’re not nervous.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have brought you guys. I don’t even think they know I’m a triplet,” Matt’s words are coming out a mile a minute as he places the car in park outside your house. The panic is starting to set, and from the looks of it they’re the first ones here. Usually being on time would make Matt proud, but this just means there will be less people to hide behind.

“Dude, it’s gonna be fine. Plus, maybe Y/n has a cute cousin or something and we can be like brother in laws,” Chris is only half-joking. “Gross,” Nick grimaces, hopping off the car and beginning the short walk to your front door. Chris laughs, copying Nick’s actions and following closely behind.

That just leaves Matt. He’s glued to the front seat, mind racing uncontrollably. If he’s going to do this, it needs to be quick and painless or he’ll just psych himself out. He takes one deep breath in and out, unbuckling himself with such fervor that the seatbelt slaps the door. Once he steps out of the car, he takes a second to anchor himself before jogging to catch up to his brothers, who are already ringing your doorbell.

Three minutes pass and no one has opened the door, so Nick rings the doorbell again. “Allí voy, allí voy!” a voice shouts from inside, the door swinging open aggressively to reveal your little sister.

[translation: “I’m going, I’m going!”]

“Oh it’s just you,” she deadpans, moving aside so they can walk in. She slams the door shut, pushing past the stunned trio until she’s at the foot of the stairs. “Y/n’s upstairs,” she says, waving towards the staircase haphazardly.

“Y/N! YOUR BOYFRIENDS ARE HERE!” she shouts up the stairs, the loud outburst taking the triplets by surprise.

Your sister is a good 4 years younger and the complete opposite of you. She’s a thin tomboy, wearing an outfit so oversized that she’s drowning in fabric. Her style directly resembles Chris’s, chunky sneakers adorning her feet and a backwards hat resting atop her long, curly hair. A long gold chain that she stole from your older brother hangs from her neck, swaying back and forth as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other. Her makeup is nicely done and her glossy lips are resting in a smirk, she loved embarrassing you.

“Stop yelling, pendeja!” you shout back, head peering from your doorway. Your sister shoots you an unbothered shrug, turning on her heels and disappearing into the backyard. You descend the stairs, immediately hugging Matt and planting a fat kiss on his lips. Within seconds his lips are the same color as yours, your cherry lipgloss tasting all too familiar.

[translation: pendeja- dumbass (feminine)]

“You guys are early,” you chuckle, pulling away from Matt to greet the other two. “You can blame Matt for that,” Nick says, the four of you walking outside to the backyard patio. The setup is simple but nice, rows of foldable chairs and tables lining the grassy lawn. Coolers are up against the walls of the house, each one filled to the brim with soda, juice pouches, and alcohol.

As Matt is surveying the area, he sees your dad, or at least he thinks he does. A tall, muscular man is working the grill. His shiny, bald head reflects the sun and his tattoos are on full display past the sleeves of his ribbed cotton tank top.

Matt grabs your hand, pulling you back slightly, “Is that your dad?” His voice is hushed, afraid to be heard accidentally.

You follow his gaze, “What? No. That’s my brother.”

An audible sigh of relief escapes Matt, and you instantly clock it, “Don’t worry, babe. Everyone’s gonna love you.” The reassuring words momentarily calm his nerves.

Your older brother’s boisterous voice breaks the moment, “Y/n, go get the rest of the carne from the kitchen!” He’s pinching carne asada, elote, and cebolla off of the grill with long metal tongs, stacking it neatly on a metal tray.

[translation: carne- meat, carne asada- grilled meat, elote- corn, cebolla- onion]

Chris is the first to approach your brother, his friendly nature making it easy for him to talk to new people,“Dude, that smells good!”

Your brother is very kind, his scary appearance completely juxtaposing his hospitable personality. He’s wearing baggy jean shorts and black air forces with a matching gold chain and bracelet. The black sunglasses that rest on his face make him look unapproachable, but the warm smile he offers Nick and Chris makes up for it.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” you quickly peck Matt’s cheek, once again staining his face with your lipstick. Matt hums in response, joining the rest of the men around the grill.

“I feel like I’m seeing triple. I didn’t even know there was three of y’all,” your brother jokes, offering them each a firm handshake. Even though they’ve heard the joke millions of times before the triplets laugh.

“Yeah, we get that a lot,” Nick laughs.

“Bet you do. Which of you is dating my sister, though?” your brother asks, but he knows the answer; the red kiss on Matt’s cheek is a dead giveaway.

“That would be this lucky guy,” Nick replies, shaking Matt’s shoulders playfully. Matt’s cheeks burn a bright red and he can’t stop himself from smiling, he truly was lucky. “If the red lipstick on his face doesn’t tell you, then his smile surely will,” Chris chimes in, his finger smudging the makeup on Matt’s face.

Your brother laughs, “Yeah you might wanna wipe that off before el jefe gets back.”

[translation: el jefe- the boss (masculine, a nickname commonly used when referencing one’s father)]

“Oh shit,” Matt mutters, scrambling for a nearby napkin and rubbing it along his face feverishly.

—

An hour has passed and no one else has arrived yet, I guess the triplets didn’t get the memo that Hispanics are almost always fashionably late. Your brother is still working the grill, immersed in an entertaining conversation with Nick about God knows what. Chris, on the other hand, is playing soccer with your sister. He keeps either kicking the ball over the fence or missing it completely, his clumsy actions make your sister laugh uncontrollably.

You sit with Matt at one of the many tables, hands intertwined as you both anxiously await your parents arrival. “He should be back by now,” you mumble, a restless leg bouncing up and down. You knew Matt would make a good first impression on your dad, but you were still nervous.

It’s almost like you summoned him, the familiar sound of your dad’s pickup truck ringing in your ears as he pulls into the driveway. “Is that him?” Matt asks, grip tightening on your palms. “Yeah that’s him. Don’t be nervous, my dad is nice,” you reply, but you’re equally as anxious.

Your dad’s first words do nothing to help your case, you’re just glad Matt can’t understand them, “Vengan a ayudar, huevones!”

[translation: “Come help, lazies!”]

“Lemme go help, you stay here. Okay?”

“No, I’m coming with you.”

“Actually yeah, good idea.”

Matt follows you to the front yard, he’s so beyond nervous that his hands are practically dripping with sweat. Your dad senses Matt’s presence immediately, “Y este pinche güey que?”

[translation: “Who’s this fucking guy?”]

“Pa! No seas feo!” you exclaim, but your dad just rolls his eyes and silently instructs you to unload the truck. He bought more alcohol for the party, because when you’re Hispanic you can never have enough.

[translation: “Pa! Don’t be ugly!”]

“Es tu novio o que?” your dad asks, grunting as he picks up two cases of beer. He rests them on his shoulders with ease, he’s so strong that it intimidates Matt. “Yes, dad. He’s my boyfriend,” you reply, playfully rolling your eyes.

[translation: “Is he your boyfriend or what?”]

Your dad, much like your brother, is also bald. The greatest differences between the two men are the wrinkles that crease near your dad’s eyes when he smiles, his long bushy beard, and his protruding beer belly. “Nice to meet you,” your dad finally directs his attention towards Matt, offering him a genuine smile as his thick accent butchers the words.

“Nice to meet you too, sir,” Matt replies, picking up a case of alcohol as to make himself useful. Your dad can tell that Matt’s nervous, and even though he doesn’t like the idea of you dating, he decides to take it easy on him. He’s heard stories about Matt from your mom and by the way you look at him, your dad knows he’s the one.

As your dad enters the backyard, absolutely shocked to see Chris and Nick. Never in his life has he met a twin, let alone triplets, “Ay güey! Hay tres? No chingues, creo que me mareé.” Everyone, except for the triplets who have no idea what’s going on, laughs at your dad’s statement.

[translation: “Oh shit! There’s three? Fuck, I think I just got dizzy.”]

“I think he likes you,” you shrug, a sly smile playing on your face. Matt suddenly feels confident, all the nerves washing away.

—

As the hours pass, the party becomes less innocent as everyone becomes more and more inebriated. Matt’s chatting with some of your uncles and cousins, a cold beer resting in his hands. He’s been nursing the same bottle all night, only sipping from it occasionally.

You’re on the opposite end of the lawn, sitting at a table with your chismosa cousin. “Your man is so handsome, prima. If you find another one like that, send him my way.”

[translation: chismosa- gossiper (feminine), prima- cousin (feminine)]

“He does have a brother,” you joke, eyes still trained on Matt. You needed to get him alone in the house, away from prying eyes.

You could think of so many actual reasons you needed him right now, though. First, he was being such a gentleman with your family. He introduced himself and made small talk despite the evident language barrier. Secondly, when you served him a plate, he finished it faster than you’ve ever seen him eat anything. Then, when he got up for seconds, he moaned as the delicious flavors melted in his mouth.

Everyone loved him, and for whatever reason that turned you on. The longer you looked at him, the wetter you became. You’re clenching your thighs together, the sheer thought of him making you squirm. Before you know it, you’re excusing yourself from your cousin and walking up to Matt with a random excuse as to why you need him inside.

“Hey is everything okay?” Matt whispers, hands resting on your hips. His head is crooked down towards you, lips capturing yours briefly before resting his forehead against yours. “Yeah, just missed you,” your breathy words fan his lips as you place a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth and travel them down his neck.

Although he welcomes the feeling, you’re both standing in the kitchen and if anyone were to walk in they’d catch the intimate moment. That’s the last thing he wanted, especially not after making a good first impression, “not here, baby.”

You pout, completely retracting yourself from Matt, “okay.”

“No, wait. I said not here,” he pulls you back in as he looks around the house in search of another secluded area, not wanting to completely abandon your touch.

“Then where?” your voice is sultry and inviting.

“Outside?” it’s the first thing that comes to Matt’s mind, and the suggestion breaks you from the mood.

“Outside, Matt? Really? Like what, like a dog?” you have a dumbfounded look on your face, almost like you can’t believe he even suggested it.

“No, like, in my car,” he dangles the keys in front of your face before pulling you back in for a heated kiss.

The kiss seems to convince you because he’s successfully leading you to his car. The street is dark, only illuminated by a few street lamps, but you find it with ease.

You fumble into the backseat, Matt following behind you giddily. “We have to be quick, okay?” you whisper, pulling Matt in for another kiss by the collar.

“You know I like taking my time with my girl,” you can hear the smirk in his voice, a playful scoff falling from your lips. You scoot further into the back seat, making room for Matt as he situates himself between your legs.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?” he brushes a stray curl away from your face, a gentle hand caressing your cheek. “Hmm yes, but I could hear it again,” you turn your face, kissing his palm.

“You look beautiful today,” he murmurs, leaning in for a kiss. You mould into each other, your lips fitting perfectly against his. Matt grinds himself down on you, momentarily breaking from you long enough for you to feather kisses along his neck.

With each kiss comes an affirmation, “I’m. So. Proud. Of. You.” It’s too dark to see, but you’re leaving lipstick marks all over him. The praises send blood rushing to his dick as you continue, “You did so good, papi. Just like I knew you would.”

[translation: papi- daddy (bear with me ppl)]

“Yeah? How good?” he eggs you on, relishing in all your sweet words. His hands push your dress up, the fabric scrunching up around your hips to reveal the red lace panties you wore underneath. Matt swears he’s in heaven.

“You did perfect…” your words trail off as you watch Matt remove your underwear in a daze. “How about you show me how good I did?” he grabs your waist, flipping you both over so you’re on top. You let out an excited squeal, your bare cunt coming in contact with his rough denim jeans. His dick is straining against the fabric, begging for release.

You grind onto his clothed penis, one hand resting on his chest as the other pushes your hair out of your face. Matt’s hands instinctively find your hips, a firm grip guiding your swiveling motions.

“Tell me how you want me, baby.”

“Ride me?”

As soon as he says it, you’re wiggling down onto his thighs and unbuckling his pants. Your fingers dance along his erection, teasingly tracing it. Matt bites his lip at the sight, “Please don’t tease.”

“So polite,” you giggle, finally tugging his pants down. His dick slaps against his stomach, the swollen tip already dripping with precum. Your thumb runs across the tip, spreading the lubrication along his shaft.

Matt’s a whimpering mess, propped onto his elbows to get a better view of you. When his hips subconsciously buck into your hand you decide to stop teasing and situate yourself above his crotch, dragging his penis along your wet folds before positioning it right at your entrance.

You’re going so slow, too slow, so Matt decides to take matters into his own hands. He grabs handfuls of your ass, pushing you down onto his dick with force. “Matt!” you gasp, the delicious stretch sending you into overdrive.

He doesn’t respond, instead he pushes and pulls your hips so that you’re bouncing on his cock. Your breasts are jiggling rhythmically, threatening to spill out of your dress. Animalistic grunts fill the car as Matt watches your pussy wrap around him, his jaw is slack and his eyebrows are furrowed in pleasure. Your soft whimpers and moans motivate him to keep going.

“You like that?” The car is rocking with the intensity of your movements, windows becoming foggier and foggier with each breathy moan that escapes your lips.

“Yes!” your voice is high pitched and squeaky, the pleasure choking you up. “Use your words, pretty girl,” he grunts, feeling the familiar wave of pleasure approaching.

“It’s so good, papi. So, so, so good,” you babble, struggling to formulate coherent sentences. Your pussy is fluttering around him, the sensation bringing Matt closer to his breaking point.

“Fuck! I’m gonna cum,” he whimpers, large hands squeezing the skin around your hips so hard that it was sure to bruise. You place loving kisses all over his face, especially on his cheeks and the corners of his mouth.

“I love you,” you moan, chanting his name again and again right after. He’s thrusting up into you feverishly, his pace faltering slightly as you both near your climax. “I love you too, princess. So much,” his voice is strained, strong arms wrapping around your waist and holding you in place as he shoots his warm load into you. His affirmations send you into a state of euphoria as your orgasm washes over you.

He’s peppering kissing all over your chest, whimpers escaping his lips as he comes down from his high. You delicately push his hair off of his sweaty forehead, admiring him as he continues his gentle attack on your chest.

“We should probably get back, babe. They’ll be wondering where we are,” you whisper, but he doesn’t want to let go. He wants to stay like this with you forever.

“Let me enjoy this a little longer,” he murmurs, hooded eyes finally looking up at you. Your lipstick is smudged all over your mouth. “Aww baby, your lipstick is all messed up. You look so cute,” he laughs, attempting to wipe some it off but failing.

He shifts slightly, the streetlights briefly managing to illuminate his handsome face. Your kiss marks are all over, a clear visual representation of how much you love him.

“You’re wearing more of it than I am,” you joke, earning yourself a playful slap on the ass.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n: clearly I couldn’t just write a smut right? Lmaoooo idk I had all the characters in my brain & it couldn’t just be smut 😭 hope u enjoy

This is so different from anything I’ve written before so lmk how yall like it & if you enjoy having Spanish in stories w/ the translations in the story💃🏻 also don’t kill me for using papi, i’d gladly call my man papi any day 😋

-L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

#teapartyanonreqs✨💗 #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fluff #matt x y/n #matthew x reader #matt x reader #matt sturniolo smut #matt #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo oneshot #matthew sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo imagine #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo angst #matthew sturniolo fanfiction #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo headcannons #matthew sturniolo x y/n #chris sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolos #the sturniolo triplets #Nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut

[satoruhour]

a/n: i need college / uni bf!geto rn bc my hands hurt :( newly established relationship <3 0.9k, rich kid!suguru i guess? / tagging @crysugu @na-t0 @papersirens @hydrovillette

“didn’t i tell you not to go so hard on your essay?” geto gives you a small smile, countered by your cute pout in the dark room of your dorm. the way he lectures is gentle, having no bite to it because how would he ever dare to sink his teeth into something as sweet as you? he knows if he does, however, he just might become addicted to you. it’s clear already how the teeth is breaking skin and drawing blood just by the items in the room:

both your faces are illuminated by the fairy lights you begged suguru to buy — he gives in and buys it for you as always. it’s shown in the starbucks mug that cost ¥3300, the sanrio themed bed sheets that you’re now sitting on, the convenience store onigiris for you to store in your fridge.

“was rushin’ it before 2359, su, you know that…” you mumble more to yourself than your boyfriend, who’s staring at you as your eyes droop sheepishly to your connected hands. it’s not wrong that you could’ve started writing this essay a little earlier, cited your sources a little earlier, but you still managed to do it; at the expense of your hands. they ached and throbbed from the position they were in for the past few hours — at least you still had managed to submit it with two minutes to spare.

“but not to the point where your hands turn sore, my darling.” geto brings your hands to his lips to kiss, like the little gesture of love could magically heal you. it feels like it does. the tenderness of his touch, the roughness of his finger pads against your smoother skin, the thoughtfulness itself. you grunt a little in pain when suguru starts to massage the palm, digging his thumb in and dragging it up and down. he squeezes your hands, giving each finger its attention, wiggling the hands to loosen your muscles.

“you know,” you hum in response and look up from your flustered state to find him already staring at you, “my mom used to do this for me.”

“yeah?” you whisper, heart pounding in your ears. two and a half months in and geto suguru was already treating you like treasure, not at all what they say he is: conceited of his intelligence, rude, a know-it-all rich kid. sure, he was smart, he was rich, but he made it clear he had no interest in the industrial, business side of the family. geto was generally open about his past, his parents leaving the toxic world and giving their son an upbringing filled with unconditional love and openness. but people usually liked the juicier gossip; none of them had bothered to know geto for who he was.

“yeah.” geto brings you in via your hands, lips colliding clumsily against yours from the force and you both laugh softly, “said its been passed down in her family for the longest time.”

“it’s helping… a little,” you giggle, eyes memorising his eyes shone under fluorescent.

“is it now?” the warmth of his hand leave yours for a moment to tilt your head up, catching your lips properly this time as he moves slow. suguru takes his time with you, moving against you as his other hand still continues to massage. that was one thing he was good at too, multitasking; he plays with your hand, travelling over your fingers and stroking over each section and its nail bed and then pulling away teasingly while he continues to hypnotise you into a dance. you hear him hum into the kiss, exhaling through his nose as he now interlocks both hands.

“focus on the squeezes, baby,” geto suguru drives you insane, in that little silky voice of his and the slight lilt in his voice. you let him lead you, feeling the soft pressure of his hand as he brings them above your heads and leans forward. you make a small surprised sound as he brings you right down to lay flat on the bed, hovering over you whilst still giving those periodic squeezes, entirely at his mercy as his lips never stop. they come off to breathe for some air and you’re the same, flushed cheeks and swollen lips and geto lets out a shaky breath.

it’s only then when he lets go, caught in your trance. easily, he tugs you into his lap as he lays down, not sure if he could uphold his obsession if he was on top.

“is this really part of the massage process?” you ask, legs naturally going to either side of his hips as you lay on his chest. you smile to yourself when you realise how fast his heart’s beating. off to the side, geto finds your hand again: him with his left and you with your right and you tangle into each other with the choreography of a million sprouts in the wind. finger into finger and palm against palm.

“hmm…” geto feigns confusion, prompting you to turn your head towards him. you grin seeing his red cheeks, “nah, just deviating a little from the family recipe… is it working?”

“it was earlier but now? oh, no, not really.” geto’s eyes flutter close when you move forward just a bit to peck his lips. you twine your fingers with his; you’re getting good at this multitasking thing. “but wherever you are, i will always feel much better than i was.”

“good.” suguru mumbles with a lovesick smile, and he gives your connected hands a squeeze and a grin threatens to spread across his face when you squeeze back just as hard, “that’s… really good.”

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk geto x reader #jjk scenarios #jjk drabbles #suguru geto #geto suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen geto #geto x reader #jjk geto #suguru geto x reader #geto smut #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen #getou x reader #geto x you #geto suguru

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | now you got me

ix. now you got me by inhaler

series masterlist | previous | next

the happy little bubble you and luke made for yourselves inevitably bursted a few days after you made it official– though if you asked luke, you rejected his advances, which always earned an eye roll from you followed by a long kiss to his lips that had him silent for the next five minutes. you knew he was milking the hell out of you saying no to his question until he let you listen to the song, but you were his and he was yours regardless of the title. 

you stared at yourself in the mirror, blushing as you ran your fingers down the marks on your neck. you added a turtleneck under your chb shirt, not having enough energy to cover up the marks on your neck with makeup, and you definitely didn’t have the energy to explain to people how you got them. thankfully, the weather cooperated with you today. it was unusually cold for the summer, a slight breeze entering your room from your opened window. as you continued to get ready for the day, your phone buzzed with a text from your dad. 

‘hey kid, can you come to my office real quick?’

you hadn’t spoken to your dad in weeks, not since he stormed out of the cabin after finding out what started the fight with your teammate. this was the longest you’d gone without speaking to him. you texted a thumbs up and made your way out of your room. 

luke was sitting on the coffee table in the middle of everyone, looking at you with wondering eyes, “where are you going?” 

“my dad wants to talk.” 

“do you want me to come with you?” luke got up from where he sat. you told him last night that you’d been avoiding your dad as much as possible, and he did the same with you. as much as you guys butted heads, luke knew that it was taking a toll on you. you shared that you were scared about what would become of your relationship with your dad. luke, being as close to his mom as you were with your dad, understood. he knew what it was like to feel like your biggest supporter was giving up on you. it wasn’t a feeling he’d wish on his worst enemy, and definitely not a feeling he’d ever wish on you. 

“no, it’s fine,” you clenched your jaw, shaking your head. 

luke’s shoulders slumped over as he stuttered in his actions to sit back down, “oh, okay–uh, let me know if you need anything.” 

you nodded and waved a small goodbye before exiting the cabin. your heart was pounding the entire time you made your way to your dad’s office. a lot of things had been weighing on you this summer– your probation, a possible dent on your record, your estrangement from your parents, luke– and it was a lot to handle. camp half blood was supposed to keep you away from the problems that existed in your day-to-day life, but it seemed to follow you. 

you entered your dad’s office to see him typing away on his laptop. his eyebrows raised when you walked in, motioning for you to shut the door. he closed his laptop and placed it in one of the drawers of his desk. he took a deep breath, “hey, kid.” 

“hi, dad,” you replied, suddenly feeling like a little kid again. you sat on the usual chair in front of his desk and leaned back, “what’s up?” 

“i, uh,” he cleared his throat, “i just wanted to say i’m sorry for how we left things. i shouldn’t have stormed out like that. i was just angry. but not at you, at myself for making you feel like you had to fight these battles for me.” 

he leaned across his desk to hold your hands, “you’re my kid, y’know. my job is to protect you, not the other way around. so i apologize if i ever made you feel like you had to come to my defense.” 

“and i’m sorry for being mia the last few weeks,” he chuckled, squeezing your hands, “i’ve been in contact with my lawyers and they’re working on making sure the charges against you don’t stick so i’ve been pretty busy with that.” 

“you think it’ll get sorted out?” you asked. 

“yeah, don’t worry about it. it’s finishing up and i think you might even be able to play this season,” your dad smiled. “but i have to deal with a pr crisis right now that sprung up on me this morning.” 

your shoulders relaxed at your dad’s words. at least your probation was getting sorted out. that was one less thing to worry about. you tugged on the sleeves of your turtleneck as you got comfortable on your chair, “what’s the pr crisis?” 

he sighed, pulling out his laptop, “something with the band.” 

you hoped your dad didn’t notice the slight widening of your eyes. because you hadn’t been talking to your dad, he didn’t know about the recent developments between you and luke. you two didn’t show much pda outside of the cabin, scared that one of the campers would break their nda and post a picture of the two of you. neither of you were ready to tell the world about you two yet. it’s too soon. you didn’t even have the “what’s going to happen to us after summer?” conversation yet. 

“what happened?” 

“some pap pictures leaked. it’s of this new actress in hollywood and a guy leaving her hotel room. the press is reporting that the guy is luke. it looks a lot like him and you know the media– they run any story that’ll get them clicks even if it’s not fully fact-checked as long as they add the word ‘allegedly’ to the article,” he rolled his eyes, turning his computer to face you. “nobody knows where the pictures came from, so we don’t know if it’s actually luke or not, but i’ve been on the phone with may and their team all morning trying to do damage control. she’s telling the guys about the pictures right now.” 

at first glance, your heart dropped to your stomach. the guy did look an awful lot like luke. the rational part of you knew that this was probably taken before the two of you met because you’ve seen him every day since and he was practically imprisoned at chb all summer, but then you thought of your impromptu trip to achilles’ arcade and it made you want to throw up. if luke could sneak away with you like that, it would’ve been easy for him to do the same when he was alone. 

were the nights he didn’t spend in your bed because he was “writing” just an excuse to sneak off to meet up with the girl in the picture? she was gorgeous, after all. blonde, tall, the perfect new hollywood star. they’d make such a great power couple. the two rising stars in their respective industries, the perfect pair. 

the boy’s face, who may or may not be luke, was covered by his hood, but you can clearly see that he was kissing the girl deeply, with his hand placed on the curve of her back. the next picture was them with their fingers laced together as she led him into the hotel, giggling at something he said. the guy had a similar build as luke and dressed the same way as he did when he was having a lazy day– sweatpants, hoodie, and converses. 

bile made its way up your throat as you continued to scroll through the pictures. you looked at the time stamp of the photos and closed your eyes, wincing, when you saw that they were taken two days ago. luke didn’t sleep in your room two days ago, nor was he in the cabin. he showed up the next day saying that he was in the studio, trying to finish up the song so you would officially accept being his girlfriend. 

you squinted at a close-up picture of the pair, zoning in on the guy's hand. you breathed out a sigh of relief, fingers immediately clutching the ring that rested on your index finger. you turned the laptop back to your dad, “that’s not luke.” 

his eyebrows shot up, looking between you and his laptop screen, “how do you know?” 

“look at his rings,” you pointed at the bands around the guy’s fingers, “luke doesn’t wear a ring on his ring finger anymore. and look, the guy has a ring there and it’s gold.” 

“how are you so sure? what if he just decided to wear it that day?” 

“trust me,” you waved off, “he’s particular about his jewelry. he stopped wearing one on his ring finger a while ago. and luke doesn’t wear gold jewelry.” 

your dad narrowed his eyes at you suspiciously, shutting his laptop, “i didn’t realize you were that close to luke that you had his accessories memorized.” 

“ah– well,” you cleared your throat, looking down at your feet. you felt caught. “s’your fault, really. you made us live together.” 

“is there something you need to tell me, kid?” 

you got up from your seat, quickly making your way to the door, “geez, dad, i didn’t realize the time! i promised clar that i’d help her with camp duties, so i gotta go. thanks for all your help on the probation and permanent record thing. you’re the best!” 

you didn’t bother to turn around to see your dad’s reaction to your excuse. you knew that he could see right through you. 

you dad called from behind you, his joking tone camouflaged by his “dad” voice, “tell castellan that if he does anything wrong, i’ll kill him and his career!” 

“love you!” 

your dad shook his head, biting back the smile on his face, “love you too, kid.” 

as you were rushing back to your cabin, you ran smack dab into luke who was frantic, worry evident on his features. his eyes widened when he saw you and he placed his hands on your shoulders, steadying you so you didn’t fall at the impact. 

“five star,” he sighed out, out of breath, “i don’t know if mr. d told you but those pictures aren’t me, i swear!” 

you had two options– you could one, tell him that you knew it wasn’t him and put him out of his misery or two, you could pretend to not believe him and make him sweat. luke looked like he was about to get on his knees and beg you to believe him. you wouldn’t be surprised if he made a powerpoint presentation listing the reasons why it wasn’t him in those pictures. 

you pursed your lips, “i saw the pictures luke.” 

“and they weren’t me!” he said, exasperated. his eyebrows knitted in anxiety, as he chewed on the nail of his thumb, “you gotta believe me, babe. i don’t know who that guy is but i can promise you it’s not me.” 

you tried not to swoon at the pet name that left his lips. “how do i know that? you weren’t home the night those pictures were taken.” 

“i know it looks bad, but look,” he ran a hand through his curls. “i finished the song the boys wrote and you can go listen to it right now, but then that night, i got caught up with a song idea about you and i stayed up all night to write it. you can listen to the demo right now if you want. you can listen to all the demos you want if that gets you to believe me. i think the recordings have timestamps too, so you’ll see i was in there all nigh–”

“down, pretty boy,” you couldn’t keep it up any longer. luke looked like he was two seconds away from bursting into tears and as much as you wanted to hear him yap, you didn’t have it in your heart to drag it on. you chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck. you pressed a soft kiss to his lips and he instantly relaxed at the feeling. 

your lips moved in sync as his hands found your waist, pressing you closer to him. his tongue licked your bottom lip, asking for permission, which you gladly granted. it was the sound of clarisse and chris inside the cabin, tapping against the windows that pulled you and luke apart. you both turned to look at your friends who all had shit-eating grins on their faces. 

travis and connor were behind the couple, shaking their heads, “get a fucking room, you heathens.” 

luke flipped them off and pressed a softer, more innocent kiss on your lips before you spoke. “i knew it wasn’t you. just wanted to see you sweat a little bit.” 

“that was mean,” he pouted, but he couldn’t fight off the smile on his face. he always seemed to smile after he kissed you. it made you want to kiss him again, starting a never-ending chain of kisses that would surely lead the two of you to be unproductive for the rest of the day. “i was so scared, five star, you have no idea. the fucker looked so much like me.” 

you laughed, playing with the curls on the nape of his neck, “trust me, i know. my heart dropped to my ass when i first saw them, but i knew it wasn’t you.” 

“how’d you know?” 

“the rings,” you flushed, thinking about how crazy you must sound knowing these small details about him.

“shit, five star,” he whistled, surprised. there was a warmth in his chest that spread throughout the rest of his body at the idea of you paying attention to these things about him. “nothing can get past you, huh? i didn’t even notice that.”

“yeah, at least you know not to sneak around behind me because i’ll find out,” you teased, lacing your fingers together as you slowly made your way up the steps of the cabin. luke stood in his spot, pulling on your hand to get you to to turn around. you walked over to him, confused, “what’s up?” 

“y’know i wouldn’t think of doing that, right?” he asked, voice suddenly serious. “i would never do that to you.” 

your eyes softened as a wistful look appeared on your face. you kissed his cheeks, relishing in the feeling of luke wrapping his arms around your torso in a tight hug. you pressed your face into the crook of his neck, placing a feather-light kiss on his jugular, “yeah, yeah.” 

“‘m serious,” he pulled away, holding your face in his hands. he was staring at you intently, making sure that you were hearing his words. you never gave him an indication that you didn’t trust him, but luke knew that it was better to tell you these things straight up if he wanted to have a real relationship with you. he knew it takes a toll on the people he dates (not that he’s had any relationships like what he has with you) to see these bullshit stories online. if he was in your position, he knew the reassurance would help. luke placed a kiss on your forehead, “i wouldn’t do anything to mess this up if i can help it, five star.”

you let out a forced laugh, awkwardly shifting in his grasp, “yeah, given that my dad controls your contract, i know you wouldn’t.” 

luke frowned, “not because of that.” 

“uh huh,” you said, feeling too vulnerable right now. you didn’t know how to handle this situation, so you coped with humor, “he likes you so don’t worry, your contract extension is practically in the bag.” 

“y/n.” 

you tensed at luke’s use of your real name. he never called you by your name. he always called you by the nickname he gave you when he first met you. five star. you knew luke wasn’t in the mood to joke around. “luke, it’s fine.” 

“i don’t want to pick a fight,” he sighed, playing with the hem of your shirt, “but i just need to hear you say that you believe me when i say that. i wouldn’t cheat on you or do anything to make you feel like i ever would.” 

your voice shook as you spoke, “what if you’re just saying that because it’s still summer and we see each other every day? what’s gonna happen when i’m back in school and you’re out in the world traveling and living your rockstar life?” 

luke’s heart broke at your words. did you really think that he would forget about all of this once september rolled around? as if you didn’t consume his thoughts every day since he met you, as if he didn’t count down the minutes until he got to see you again when he was forced to be away from you because he had things to do, as if he didn’t have a sinking feeling in his stomach when you weren’t next to him. he was starting to think you didn’t understand just how deeply he felt about you even when you assured him that you did understand. 

“i’m not gonna lie, long distance is gonna be hard,” he said, “but we can figure it out. i know it.” 

“i never knew you were such an optimist, castellan.” 

luke laughed at that. if only you knew how many times he psyched himself out of making a move on you because of his own pessimism. it only changed recently, when he finally decided to say fuck it and go for it. “for you? always. i’d be stupid not to be. you’re a good thing, five star.” 

luke fucking castellan. you pressed your head into his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat against your face. he gave you a tight squeeze, placing a kiss on the crown of your head. he loved having you like this, all soft and cuddly with him like you didn’t want to let him go. he should be scared at how quickly he was falling for you, how attached he already felt. 

you kissed his lips again, pulling away with a smile, “so babe huh?” 

“babe, baby, sweetheart,” he mumbled, leaning over to kiss you again. “anythin’ you want.”

#frances writes #poisoned mercury #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #percy jackson #percy jackson fanfic

[crxss01]

hiii, can i request a e-42 miles morales where he just wants to be comforted but he’s that miles so obviously he doesn’t want to admit it and puts up a strong facade in front of reader but she knows what’s up. thank you!!

— After Dark

pairing ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ e-42!miles morales x reader

summary ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ you have come to know miles so much that you know when he is stressed and in much need of comforting even when he tries to act tough in front of you.

warnings ✧˖ ° angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, kissing, miles is our baby boy and needs to be held, cuddling, you being a good partner.

m. list, main m.list.

translations ✧࿓☾ bonito: handsome/or pretty boy, (mi) princesa: (my) princess, cariño: dear, amor: love, te amo tanto: i love you so much, mi angelito: my little angel.

a/n . . ◟੭ hey, sweet anon! i felt this request in my heart while writing it, hope you enjoy!

you were awaken in the middle of the night by the creak! of your window as it was forced open, you flopped back down from your sitting position after realizing who the intruder was. your boyfriend, miles morales.

"bonito, what are you doing here?" you asked him, you felt exhausted and when you looked at the clock on your nightstand you noticed you had only slept for an hour.

"sorry for waking you, princesa." he apologized, then sat on the end of your bed just examining your face. he did this often, but now there was something off with him.

"what's wrong?" you sat back up, and moved until you were kneeling on your bed right in front of him, taking his head in between your hands.

"nothing, mami." he shook his head, a small smirk making its way to his face as he looked you up and down.

the covers had come off when you moved towards him and in the process revealing your pijama shorts along with the pijama cami top.

"miles, don't play with me." you warned which wiped the smirk off his face. "tell me what's up with you."

"it's nothing, cariño. don't worry about it." he dismissed once again.

"mhm..." you hummed, then proceeded to get off your bed to kneel on the floor. grabbing his feet, one by one, you took off his jordans. you put them to the side neatly and stood back up, unzipping your boyfriend's jacket while he just observed then you took that off too and since he doesn't like sleeping with a shirt on you took it off of him.

"come on," you said getting in bed once again and grabbing his hands, pulling him up the bed which he obliged to.

he laid under the covers with you, between your legs with his head on your chest as you ran your hand up and down his back trying to bring as much comfort to him as you could.

it was silent for what felt like hours and you couldn't figure out if he was sleeping or not because of how relaxed his breathing had become, but you had your answer when he spoke up again.

"it's my mom,”

you stayed silent, wanting him to continue at whatever pace he would like to.

"she keeps working overnight shifts and i know she is doing all of that to provide for me, but it hurts me so much to see her work herself so hard like that. it makes me feel like a burden to her, because if it wasn't for me she wouldn't have to do that." he took a shaky breath, pausing.

once again you remained silent, not pushing him to continue.

"when she comes home she looks so tired and she doesn't even sleep that much because she immediately starts worrying about how i didn't eat properly and if my clothes are washed or some other stuff and it just makes me feel like shit seeing her like that and all because of me." he finishes.

you waited just in case he had something else to say before you said anything, when he didn't you took his head in your hands making him look up at you. you wanted him to look you in the eye as you spoke.

"miles morales, you're not a burden to your mother." you stated, loud and clear. the thought that your parents might hear you did not go through your head. "she works like that not only because she is raising a child all on her own and has to take care of him because she loves him so much, more than anything in this world. she also works like that so that she can be able to provide for herself. she works like that because she is a strong, beautiful and independent woman who others can not compare to. miles, you're her son, of course she would do all of that and more for you because the love of a mother is something that is unrivaled."

you took a deep breath. "if tia morales had considered you a burden, don't you think that she would've given you up to some child system or whatever? but she hasn't and would never do it, i know she wouldn't. she loves you just like you love her."

miles was looking at you, eyes watery but only one tear came out before he wiped it off, breaking eye contact as he did this. he buried his head on your chest for a moment.

"so if you ever feel like a burden again, just remind yourself that she loves you and that she also needs to do that for herself. okay, amor?" you asked.

miles lifted his head up, nodding.

"no, i want you to say it for me." you told him.

"okay." he said.

"i love you, did you know that?" you smiled down at him.

"yes and i love you too, mi princesa." he smiled back and pulled himself further up on top of you until he was on eye level with you. "te amo tanto," he kissed your forehead. "the love of my life," he kissed your right cheek. "my one and only." he kissed your left cheek. "my happiness." he kissed your nose. "mi angelito." he kissed your mouth.

you smiled into the kiss, and kissed him back before pulling away. "i'll always be here for you." you told him.

"i know." he smiled, full teeth showing which was rare, then kissed you again.

life was perfect when he was with you.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ reblogs are really appreciated!

#miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles angst #miles morales fanfiction #prowler miles x reader #42 miles morales #miles morales prowler #miles g morales #miles g morales x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spider man #spiderman atsv #atsv #atsv fandom #atsv fanfiction

[m3talmunson]

Steve Harrington is incredibly smart. It's not his fault nobody believes him. Or, well, maybe it is.

Steve used to be his parents pride and joy, everyone knew that. When he was young, doing his piano lessons, his mother would show him off at their house parties.

"Look at my Steven!" She'd say, and all the other mothers around would parrot something like "What a sweet boy!" and he would just keep playing. That night his father would commend him for keeping the ladies occupied, that he'd grow up to be a real ladies' man, and how great it was that he kept the women out of the men's hair. He'd never said "I'm proud of you," or "I love you," but that was as close as he got.

And for a while, Steve LIVED for it. He'd come downstairs, see his mother in her good pearls, her party pearls, and know that he'd be good for them that day. Be needed for something.

And then it got old. So he learned cello. That kept them entertained for a while, until it didn't. Then he learned flute. That one kept them occupied a little longer, Mr. Harrington could stand the fact that it was a "girly" instrument because it kept Steve's mouth shut. He got too good at talking while he played the other instruments.

Then he tried guitar, and well all the instruments just stopped impressing them, because they stopped having house parties. Instead, they'd started going out to them. Started going out and not coming back, for weeks upon weeks at a time. Steve was determined to give them something to show off, something to praise.

He had always been quite book smart, but he started really putting the effort in. Steve gave it a year and a half of straight A+'s, until he realized that his parents would never care. So he tried a new approach, called 'skating along right above failing'. It didn't get their attention one bit.

Even when Steve came home beaten and torn, from the upside down or a fight, they weren't even there to ever notice.

And sure, people like Joyce or Hopper would notice, check in on him until the black eye went away. But after that, they had lives to live.

So no, the adults in Steve's life didn't really give him much attention at all.

Of course he didn't mind it all that much. Some small part of Steve just figured 'I deserve it,' and he rolled with the punches.

He found solace in his instruments, still. He learned more and more. Piano was his best, but once you had learned piano you could learn just about anything else with some dedication. His guitar he could whip out at a couple of his high school parties. In private, alone in his room with a girl, he could strike a few chords and they would just obsess over it. Got him the companionship he so desperately needed for a while.

Even so, he never showed Nancy. She made it clear to him that she loved watching him swim, loved his muscles. The more masculine parts of him. So he never brought it out. When she asked about the shiny grand piano in his living room, he'd just say his mom played. He stashed away his other instruments in a spare room, so she wouldn't see them.

That's not to say he didn't want to show her one day. He wanted to, but once you get called bullshit once, you're pretty much over the vulnerability.

So he continued to hide it, hide his smarts. He skated through until graduation, nursing the wounds in his body and mind all alone. Then he met Robin.

And he was just too scared to show her that part of himself. His instruments had become his little secret, and he just wasn't keen on sharing.

Not until after the events of Vecna. He had lost enough by then. He didn't lose any friends this time, but he was close. Max regained some of her eyesight, wearing thick glasses that Steve paid for. He'd never let Max's mother do it. Eddie got his new government-supplied trailer, and walked the long road to recovery. And near the end of that road, Steve threw one damn good party.

It was early August. Steve and Robin had already celebrated a year of being best friends (and being free of Russian torture), but Max was having a harder time, so they waited a little longer, until the Byers-Hopper group had settled in, but before school started. It was pretty much a "Hey Hawkins is (Relatively) Safe!" party. Everyone had mostly recovered from the events of spring break, the Byers-Hopper clan had finally put the finishing touches on their home in Hawkins, getting a nice big house that someone left behind in the "Great Escape From Hawkins of 1986". Eddie had finished high school, a little bit with the pity of teachers who were sorry that they thought he was a murderer, combined with the pity that he was nearly killed in the "earthquake", but who's counting? It was his year.

It was all of their years, finally over with this upside-down business. So Steve threw a party.

The adults had left, calling in their bedtime at 9. The kids and the older teens were sleeping over though. Steve had more than enough space, and of course, the moment Joyce Byers closed the front door with her last "Call me if you need anything!" they had to break out the good old party games.

The kids insisted on truth or dare, and they got a couple rounds in before Dustin decided to single our Steve for once.

"You haven't been called on much, it's my turn to fix that." Dustin said. Argyle was the only person who had chosen Steve so far, since he was on vacation from California for the summer, staying at the Byers place after helping them move in.

"Yeah yeah just spit it out kid," Steve retorted, taking the last swig of his first-and-only beer for the night, always playing it safe in case he had to drive one of the kids home unexpectedly.

"Truth or Dare?"

Steve contemplated for a moment. He picked dare earlier with Argyle and it had been pretty simple. A truth might make him spill some of the secrets he was content to keep in his brain. Within the kids group half of the truths so far had been about crushes. It left Will stammering earlier, and he wasn't about to let the same thing happen to himself. He could admit he had... new feelings when it came to romance that he'd rather not let out in THIS room. What's the worst that could happen if he chose dare anyways?

"Dare. Hit me with your best shot kid."

"Damnit, I had only thought of a truth! Give me a second." Dustin fumbled, turning to Lucas and trying to think of a good dare.

"All that talk..." Eddie whispered into Steve's ear.

That was a new habit the older teens had gotten into. Whispered secrets behind flexed hands, like a little kid's game of telephone. Something that made them feel like kids again. Though if we're being honest, it was mostly Steve and Eddie.

"I know, right?" Steve whispered back. Admittedly, something about the whispering made the hair on Steve's neck stand up on end. It made him feel like he and Eddie were the only people in the world.

He always had to come back to reality though.

"I dare you-" Dustin interrupted, " -to show us something you've never shown anyone before. Like a hidden talent or something."

Steve thought about it for a second. Maybe he could finally be vulnerable with the group. He had gone to hell and back with these people, multiple times. Surely he could play some piano.

So Steve got up, passing his empty bottle to Nance who eyed it with a raised brow and set it on the side table next to her. He stepped over the boys' sleeping bags, all of them sticking around in the living room that night so the girls could have the basement. Steve chose to ignore when Mike fussed, saying that he got stepped on.

He sat down at the piano bench and cracked his knuckles, looking down at the keys before snapping his head up and asking, "Any requests?"

"Wait Steve you can-" Nancy started, before Robin blurted out a song.

"Take Me Home Tonight!" Robin shouted. It had become their collective favorite song recently, both of them singing it every day on the drive home from work.

"Yeah, I can do that one. Be my backup Robs?"

"You don't have to ask twice!" She swung up from her place next to Nance, stepping over the sleeping bags the same way Steve had.

When she made herself a comfy spot on top of the piano, swinging her legs back and forth, Steve started the intro.

Steve thought it sounded a little dinky on classical piano with no synth. He winced to himself as he played the intro, looking up to Robin for comfort. He just saw her jaw drop, and her mischievous smile go wider. He didn't have to look at anyone else, Robin's nod for him to start singing was all he needed to look back down at the keys.

Steve had never been a confident singer, always putting on a bit of a show, carrying a tune -but never doing his best- so if someone said it was bad, he could say he wasn't trying. This time though, he gave it his all.

By the first chorus he was throwing his head back and closing his eyes, putting on a show for a different reason, smiling as wide as he could whilst singing.

He took some liberties: embellishing a little on piano, changing "Ronnie" to "Robbie" because, honestly, who wouldn't have. He got to her solo and, playing the supporting chords with his left hand, held out his right hand and his fake microphone to Robin, who took his arm in her hands and let out her most dramatic "Be my little baby," straight from the heart.

Playing the intro to the next part, Steve remembered that there were people in the room besides him and Robin. He looked around at the faces of his friends. Lucas and Max were bopping along on the floor, Will, El, and Erica had been dancing haphazardly in the corner the whole time, El dragging her brother up by the arm. Erica followed; she had recently taken an admiring to the bitchin' girl with superpowers, plus both El and Max enjoyed having another girl at sleepovers. Dustin's jaw was still on the floor, although Nancy was more subtle about her shock, her mouth hanging in a little "o" . Jonathan and Argyle were nodding their heads along to the bass chords, having just the time of their lives. It was Eddie's face that made Steve's heart jump. He was marveling at Steve, and anyone could tell. It was enough to make Steve sing the next verse directly to him. It became all too real all of a sudden, and he wouldn't change it for the world.

Soon after, the game was ditched, all the kids rattling off songs for Steve to play for them, so they could sing along. After some Loverboy, Blondie, Grease, and their more-than-fair share of ABBA, the kids tired themselves out. Will and El made a point to thank Steve for his playing, Lucas, Max, and Erica whooped and hollered after every song, and the rest of them showed their thanks in other ways, in hugs goodnight or simple looks, eye contacts worth a million words. Then all the older teens headed upstairs. Jonathan and Argyle headed to their room early, but Robin and Nancy stuck around in the Steve's bedroom, where he was sharing with Eddie.

"When were you going to tell us you were a musical GENIUS?" Eddie asked.

"I'm no genius, I just- My mom wanted something to show off at parties when I was younger, I started learning when I was seven so I could be their free entertainment."

"Thirteen years, Steve?" Nancy felt pretty awful not knowing about something so personal to him.

"Yeah, this is my first time showing someone who wasn't at those parties though. Well, on the piano at least."

"What do you mean 'on the piano?' Do you play other instruments dingus?"

"Well, a couple others! Cello, flute, guitar, french horn, and drums a little. I can carry a tune on harmonica, but I mainly picked it up to learn Piano Man. Thought it'd be kinda funny."

"You are magical Stevie, did you know that?"

Those words, Eddie's words, bounced around in Steve's head for the rest of the night. Magical. Him? Magical.

"Seeing as we know a girl with superpowers, I doubt that I'm the magical one." Steve brushed it off.

The girls took their leave a while later, leaving Steve and Eddie to stew in their awkward nature around eachother.

"I guess I can give up on being the only cool guitar player in the group." Eddie said, faking a heartbroken look.

"You can still be the only cool guitar player, I'm just a guitar player."

"Oh c'mon Stevie! You know these kids think you're the coolest person on the planet."

"I think you've got that one covered, I'm just their ever-so-giving host and chauffeur." Steve tried to make a joke out of it, gave his best self-pitying chuckle and everything. Eddie saw right through it. Saw the tears cloud the edge of Steve's vision before he blinked them away.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey," Eddie stopped Steve, "You're so much more than a ride home and a place to stay to them, okay? I mean it, they think you're the coolest person on the planet. And they're not the only ones who think it."

"Ha, like you think it."

"I do, Steve. I do think it."

"I mean, come on Eds! There's really no redeeming factor," Steve let the tears fall freely, moving off of his bed where Eddie sat, and gesturing to himself,"I have a nice car, a big house, and a shit personality. I'm not good in conversation, I don't know any of their nerd games. I'm no good at keeping them safe from anything that isn't an interdimensional monster. I'm just kind of here. I'm not smart, or nice, or even funny, or magical like you said. I'm just here."

"Steve," Eddie started, this look in his eyes, trying it's hardest to tell Steve everything he means to them, means to Eddie. But Steve just closed his eyes, bowed his head, like Eddie had some power over him.

Steve just stood there, head bowed, flexing and unflexing his fists.

"Come here." Eddie commanded, patting the bed next to him. And, just like the little kid who learned piano to entertain his mom, Steve listened.

Steve sat down and Eddie immediately scooted him closer, putting Steve's chin in both of his hands. Making Steve look him in the eye.

"You are so much more to those kids. And even if I'm wrong, you're so much more to me. You are smart, you are kind, you are generous, and loving, and you care for each and every one of us more than anything or anyone in the world could reasonably ask you to." Eddie wiped Steve's tears as they fell, but he never broke eye contact. "You've saved their LIVES Steve. Many of them wouldn't be here without you. I wouldn't be here without you. You carried me out of that hell hole, and you've been here for me since. If there's anyone in this world qualified to tell you how much you mean to them, I think it's me."

"You really believe all of that?"

"Every syllable of every word."

See, Steve Harrington is incredibly smart. It's not his fault nobody believes him.

Not even himself.

But maybe, for the first time, he was about to make a smart decision.

So he learned forward, into Eddie. Pressed his lips into Eddie's and didn't doubt that Eddie would kiss back. And when Eddie did, Steve's heart soared. He put all of his gratitude, all of his feelings into kissing Eddie.

After he finally pulled away, Eddie just had to bring some light into the situation. He wiped away one of Steve's tears, and said:

"I hope I don't have to see those pretty eyes cry for that to happen again."

"You don't-" Steve leaned in again.

And if Robin found them suspiciously close in the morning, it was nobody's business but her own.

#personal message at the bottom of the tags LOL #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve stranger things #eddie stranger things #steddie blurb #steddie drabble #steddie fanfic #steddie ficlet #the party #robin buckley #steve harringtons parents #ok guys so sorry ive been so dead recently #been working a lot on the show im in #also being choreographer on top of a lead (yippee!) #anyways #im trying to write more #if anyone has any fic ideas #PLEASE #put them in the replies. i would LOVE them #that being said #hope you enjoyed!!!

[deliciousbasementtrash]

Playing Nurse for the Batfam

From Injustice Gods Among Us Year 5 #15

Summary: you are a nurse working for Gotham General Hospital. Batman has offered you a job. Will you take it?

Pairing: Slowburn Jason Todd x reader, (maybe a why choose with Dick Grayson as well?? Idk tell me what you guys want)

Warning: Adult language, parental abuse, parental neglect

Word Count: 1.6k

Note: These characters are not my own they belong to DC. The only character that is 'mine' is the reader. I am going to be as nondescript as possible for the reader as well for physical attributes. This is a continuation series; I’m not sure how long it will be. Also for some reason, my replies to comments are not showing up. I’m not ignoring your comments Tumblr won’t let me respond :( But please, please comment I live for it 

Part One, Part Two

Part Three: Skip-Bo and Chess

My mind raced as I went over the contract. Everything seemed too simple, too easy. The only terms and conditions I had to abide by were that I wouldn’t reveal his identity and that I would need to essentially be on call from the hours of 21:00 to 7:00, but roughly 24/7. The pay was a ridiculous amount. The insurance was crazy good. I didn’t realize it was possible to get that much coverage. But this went against everything I have represented in my life. Would I be betraying the people of Gotham, my patients, and my fellow coworkers, by taking this job? Would I be betraying myself and my past history? 

Gotham City: 16 Years Ago 

My father and I stood over my mother’s grave. It was strange. My mom was a woman who breathed life into everything. She never wore a dull color, she danced whenever she could, and she sang horribly and off tune. She wore her hair in two long braids with colorful ribbons. She wore sweet perfume. She wore red lipstick. She wore so many necklaces and bracelets she jingled when she walked. She snorted when she laughed. And now when I looked at her all I saw was dirt and a gravestone. Her colorfulness, her loudness, her laughter, her joy, all of it was gone. I knew I couldn’t cry though. Not in front of Dad. He got so much meaner when I did. Sometimes I wonder what my beautiful, colorful, caring mother saw in this cruel bleak man. But I guess his bitterness was supposed to balance out her sweetness. 

But without her, it felt like I was choking on the disgusting taste of my reality. We were grieving. We had no money. And the debt just seemed to be getting deeper and deeper. I tried selling homemade cookies at school to help out. I raised about 22 dollars. I came home with a smile on my face and handed my father the money. He pocketed it without another word. It was almost worse when he was like this.

It felt like he was a teapot that was brewing and I was just waiting for the wrong thing to set him off. 

Some days when I came home from school he was home. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t look at me. Other days he wasn’t there. I had to scavenge the house for food or walk to the convenience store with what little money I had scurried away. 

It felt like my life had become black and white without my mom. Everything seemed so hopelessly bad. Then one day my dad came home with a smile on his face. My first instinct was to tense my body and avert my gaze. I didn’t know what he was going to do. 

“Sweetie, come with me. I have an idea,” my father said, grabbing my wrist and pulling me out the door with him. 

He drove like a maniac and pulled up towards a seemingly abandoned building. My blood ran cold with anticipation. 

My father practically ripped me out of the car and dragged me inside. Inside there were about twenty men all pretty beat up. All of them looked at me. I picked at my hangnails and looked at my father. 

“Y/n, these gentlemen need to be healed. Be a doll and heal them.” My father’s words were clipped, and my pulse raced. I merely nodded and healed man after man. It became clear to me, even at my young age, that these men were a part of a gang. Who’s? I had no idea. 

That was until a fat man in a tuxedo and a cane walked up to my father. He handed him a bundle of cash, they whispered some hurried words and the grotesque man leaned down towards me.

His short fat finger booped my nose, and the man tilted his head back and laughed at my reaction. I wanted to bite his finger off. I wanted to go home. I wanted my mom. 

For the next two years, my father did business with anyone that could pay him. Our life went from living by the penny to living in luxury. All due to my power. The richest of the rich, politicians, businessmen, criminals, and villains, all used my services. And eventually, they tried to buy me. 

That’s when I decided to run away. Or die trying.

Gotham City: Present Day 

I sat across from Sam, my best friend, and nurse colleague. “What do you think I should do?” She was the only one that I trusted enough to tell everything to. Of course, I left out the whole, ‘My boss would be Batman thing.’ 

“Girl, if you don’t take this job I will kill you,” Sam said, taking a large bite of her pasta. 

“Do you think I’m betraying my younger self? I promised I would never be bought. I would never work for a corrupt man.” 

“Maybe you should discuss with Mr. Wayne, that you would like to remain a nurse part-time. That way you ease your conscious about everything but still live in a fucking MANSION and make BANK, you dummy head. And this way you’re reclaiming your past. You get to choose. You’re not trapped.” 

I mindlessly pushed my food around my plate, lost in thought. “That’s not a terrible idea.” 

“Of course not, I never have bad ideas. Take one more night to think about it. But I think you have your answer.” 

That night I tossed and turned in my bed. I grabbed my phone, the bright screen making me blink. 

[I accept your terms, but I do have a few remediations to the contract. Signed, y/f/n y/l/n.] 

One week later. 

 “How are you taking to your new living situation, Miss y/l/n?” Alfred asked as he expertly julienned an onion. I not as gracefully diced several cloves of garlic across from him. 

I looked up at him, smiling, “I’m still getting used to it, to be honest.” It had become a silent routine over the past week. When I wasn’t working at the hospital, or patching up Batman, I got bored. So, I started helping Alfred with cooking. 

He taught me how to play chess. I taught him how to play Skip-Bo and dominos. I had grown quite fond of the man over the short period. It most definitely was my daddy issues clinging to the first nice man I saw. But Alfred Pennyworth seemed truly kind to me. 

I hadn’t met any other members of Bruce’s family, but supposedly they were all meeting for dinner tonight. For some reason, my pulse spiked at the thought of meeting them. My past gave me anxiety when meeting new people I didn’t know. 

As if reading my thoughts Alfred asked, “How are you feeling about meeting everyone tonight?”

I cut a piece of garlic a bit harshly, “I’m– I’m fine. Do you know if I am to meet them after the dinner or before?”

Alfred’s eyebrows quirked, “What do you mean? You most probably will meet them at dinner. You are attending are you not?”

“I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to eat with the family or not,” I stated, hesitantly. 

I heard a twang of metal as Alfred set down his knife. He gave me his full attention as he said, “Master Wayne may seem abrasive, Miss. But I assure you, he would never have to eat separately unless that is what you wished.” 

Abrasive was one way to put it. He often reminded me of a feral cat when I tried to heal him. He would practically hiss that he was fine. I had to politely remind my employer a few times that this was what I was here for and to let me heal him. 

We cooked in silence for a while, when out of the blue I asked Alfred, “Alfred, are you happy?”

Alfred always holding his poise answered calmly, “Happiness is something that fluctuates in my life, Miss. I will say that knowing that Master Wayne and the rest of the family are in your capable hands is reassuring me as of late. I also have been enjoying your company, no matter how many times you beat me in Skip-Bo.”

I laughed, a true genuine laugh. “Hey, you win every time we play chess!”

Alfred smiled softly, “Miss I have been playing chess since I was five years old. If I lost I think I would have to revoke my Englishmanship.” 

After my laughter died down, another question popped in my head, “What are they like? Mr. Wayne’s family?”

Alfred smiled, “Those children are loud, argumentative, loyal, funny, stubborn, etc. I love those children with everything I am. You will too, Miss y/l/n.”

An unfamiliar sense of warmth bloomed in my chest, “Thank you, Alfred.”

“Thank you, Miss y/l/n.”

As I was getting dressed. I could not pick out what I wanted to wear. Did I want to go casual with a tee shirt and jeans? A bit more formal with a dress? Semi-casual with a skirt and sweater? I decided on the last one, with some tights on underneath. I wanted to make a good impression. It felt like the first day of school. I made my way down the stairs. No one had arrived yet. I took a seat next to Alfred, my leg bouncing. 

Alfred patted my shoulder when we heard the door open, “It will be just fine.” 

The loud oncoming footsteps mimicked my thundering pulse.

#batman #batfam #batfamily #jason todd #dick grayson #barbara gordon #duke thomas #tim drake #damian wayne #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #nightwing #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x you #x reader #female x reader #whump #whumptober 2023 #whump writing #dc comics #dc universe #dc fanfic

[auteurdelabre]

Please, Mister Miller Sequel: Part 6 BFD!Joel x f!Reader

words: 18k (yeah. That's right)

summary: It's Graduation Day and your parents are here... so is Joel...so is an unexpected visitor.

tags/warnings: age gap, infidelity mentioned, p in v, unprotected sex, angst, fluff, namecalling (slut, good girl, sweet girl), oral sex (f receiving), Daddy-kink in parts, public-ish sex, voyeurism, mentions of childhood trauma, shitty parents, clothes ripping, lovingmaking, reader has hair Joel can grab.

a/n: over 18,000 words on this fuckin' monster. If I don't get some damn good reviews I'm gonna riot. In other news, FUCK the next chapter is gonna be a goddam monster too... unless I break it into 2. We'll see. What do you wanna see happen?

masterlist here

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

You wake on graduation day with a knot in your stomach and you know exactly why. The text you received last night. You pick up your phone, eyes scanning the brief message and sighing deeply.

[MOM]Just got in. See you at the ceremony tomorrow. Be sure to wear the dress. 

You look over at that ridiculous dress, a totem of innocence and purity and you want to laugh. Innocent? Pure? What a joke. If only she knew the photos of Joel you have on your phone, or the absolutely depraved things you’ve done with him.  

As if you’ve summoned him, a text comes through.

 [HIM 💜] Can’t wait to see you, bby.

You smile at your phone.  You can almost hear his deep voice, the rasping purr.

Can’t wait to see you! xoxoxoxox

Though after the stress of seeing my parents I’m gonna need a massage.

[HIM 💜] Deep tissue? Swedish? Internal?

Oooh Deep Tissue followed by internal please. Lol.

Sarah wakes soon after positively vibrating with excitement. 

"I can't wait to see Charlie!" She shouts, jumping up out of bed. "And I can't wait to travel this summer!"

You force a smile but you can't deny you're envious about Sarah's summer. Yours is bound to be a solitary one living back with your parents.  You need to get a job back home to help pay for school in the fall.

Perhaps Joel will come and visit you back home once in a while? Or perhaps tonight will be your last rendezvous? It's hard to think of how it can continue, despite what Joel says. He can't exactly come over and meet the parents can he? And your parents will likely have a very close hold on you, wanting to introduce you to the right people, trying to convince you to switch your Masters degree for something more profitable.

Despite how well off your parents are they have made it clear from the start that you'll make your own way in the world. But that’s fine by you because you have scholarships and you’re a hard worker. Living at home means saving up money. Saving up money means moving out away from them.

But until then, it’s long, solitary days back in Chicago with your family.

Sarah gives a stretch before falling onto your bed with an oof. She sits, knees touching yours and smiling broadly.

“We’re almost graduates!”

“I know!”

And funnily enough out of everything with your parents, it’s not that which upsets you the most. It’s the fact that will be no Sarah to look forward to in the fall. No more giggled nights over cheap beer or joined study sessions helping the other make flash cards.

She’s become a touchstone to you. A person whose Snapchat's and text messages through the summers made life bearable when your parents were too much for you. Whose soup delivered to your beside during sick days at school made you feel taken care of. The roommate who dragged you to parties to make you socialize and subsequently introduced you to Conrad, who for a short while made you very happy.

Without Sarah you don’t know who you would be today.

"I'm going to miss you so much," Sarah says gently, her large eyes teary. 

"Same here," you say, trying to swallow the tremor in your voice.

"I can't believe we're just gonna suddenly not live together," she says, chin wobbling and the sight of it makes it impossible to stop the tears that slip down your cheeks. 

“I know,” you say and now the tears are free flowing and the words you’ve never voiced come out wobbly. “I’ve never had a friend like you. A best friend.”

Sarah lets out a choked sob and the two of you collapse into a sniffling hug that makes your heart swell. You finally pull back long enough to brush the tears from your eyes, the two of you laughing at how emotional you both are. 

"You're gonna be traveling all over South America all summer," you remind her with a watery smile. "You won't have time to miss me."

"I will so!" Sarah insists with a friendly push to your shoulder. “I’m gonna get you something really nice too!”

When you put on the white dress later that morning you're struck that you're the vision of chaste. The lace sleeves, the ruffles, the high neckline. It gratifies you greatly when you pull on the most scandalous panties you own, red completely see through. They tie at the hips and they barely cover anything. 

You pull them up over your hips and lower the dress over them. The fabric is so thick they can't be seen, but you will. 

And soon Joel will too. 

///

By the time the ceremony starts hours later you're almost shaking with nerves under your robe and mortarboard. The rasp of the dresses ruffles at the shoulder make you twitch. 

Sarah is seated next to you, her eyes scanning behind you. You know she's looking for Joel and Charlie. You already spotted your parents near the back of the large auditorium looking as dour and bored as they always have. 

"Oop there he is!" Sarah murmurs as the Provost drones on at the podium. You glance at her before you allow your eyes to drift in the direction she's looking. And there he is, seated beside a beaming Charlie, is Joel. 

Your Joel. 

He's so handsome you could cry. His hair is longer and curled, looking so soft you want to leap out of your seat to run your fingers through it. He's wearing a button down and he's grinning at both you and Sarah. When she turns around to face the speaker Joel casts you a sly wink that has you flushing. 

You feel his eyes on you through most of the ceremony, and when you go up after to collect your diploma you hear his clapping and shouting of your name over the crowd. To anyone else he looks like the supportive parent of his daughter’s friend. But when you cast your eyes into the crowd and see his beaming smile, you feel the pride from where you stand on the stage.

Soon enough the ceremony is over and you and Sarah are official graduates. You give her a tight hug after you toss your caps into the air. You both give yelps as the caps fly around you, laughing as you find yours before handing her the one next to it on the ground. 

"Gonna go find my dad," she tells you as you give her one final squeeze. You nod watching her rush through the bustling array of people in search of the man you cannot wait to hold and kiss.You slip through the crowd until you find your parents still seated and looking at the passing crowds with distaste. 

You take a deep breath, swallowing before you approach them with a tentative smile.

"Hello Mom, Dad." 

The two of them stand simultaneously, giving you a once over before your mother gives you a detached embrace. She’s likely trying to see if you’re wearing the dress she insisted upon. Your father pats your shoulder companionably.

"Congratulations," he tells you with a thin smile. "Graduation with honors."

"Thank you," you say, surprised with the compliment. 

"Not valedictorian," he reminds you quickly. "But I suppose there was lots of competition."

Your mother says nothing and you just nod, wanting this interaction to be over as quickly as possible. You notice now that your father is holding a small wooden box with a bow on it. He thrusts it at you.

"Take this and be sure to take care of it."

"Yes sir," you nod, taking the small box from him. You open it up to see an ornate fountain pen sitting on the velvet. "It's beautiful. Thank you."

It’s hideous and nothing like your style. You don’t even write by hand anymore unless it’s for the word jumble. Just another example of how little your parents know about you.

"We'll go to dinner," your mother tells you. "Afterwards we'll collect your things and you can come to the hotel with us. Our flight is first thing in the morning."

“Oh, I thought I was going to spend one more night here at the dorms,” you say, a bit of panic coursing through you. “To finish up packing and everything.”

That had been the plan. You and Joel would have dinner with your families and then meet up at the hotel he sent you. You can’t do that if you’re with your fucking parents at some fancy hotel near the airport.

“That’s a waste of time and I don’t want to be late for the airport,” your mother says with a frown. “You were to have finished packing last night.”

“I underestimated how much I had to pack,” you defer, trying not to sound as concerned as you feel. “I’ll take a taxi to the airport early tomorrow, I promise. I won’t hold you up.”

Your mother goes to deny this request but your father holds up a hand, making her flinch.

“If she’s paying for her taxi who are we to tell her no?” your father says with a shrug. “Let her.”

Your mother silently stews, shaking her head in a short nod. This entire scene is simply a precursor to what awaits you this summer. Their strained marriage, your strained relationship with them. It’s a nightmare.

Moving back home feels both terrifying and humiliating all in one. You hated being under their thumb, but you can't afford rent and school. And despite what they say, you want to pursue your schooling. It makes you happy. It's a small sacrifice to secure your future. 

You nod, head held low. It jerks up when you hear your name being called. You glance over your shoulder. 

Fuck. 

You feel your anxiety grow when Sarah, Charlie and Joel approach. 

'I'm so glad that's over!" Sarah says with a laugh. "I don't want to think about how many people wore this gown before me."

You smirk at this before turning to your grim -faced parents. 

"You know Sarah," you say to your them, noting that Joel hangs back a moment, watching the scene. 

"Of course, hello Sarah," your mom says as your dad gives a tight smile to your roommate. They've seen Sarah plenty of times in the background of your sporadic video calls home.

"This is her boyfriend, Charlie," you say and the shy Charlie offers a timid wave in reply. Your father is looking over Charlie, noting the slump of his shoulders, the shy way he doesn’t make eye contact. You’re positive they’ll have something scathing to say about him during dinner.

You notice Joel staring at you and then your parents. You try to hold back the flush starting at your cheekbones. His hands are at his side and he finally approaches the group, his eyes on your parents.

"Uh, and this is her dad, Mister Miller," you say softly, unable to make eye contact with him. For some pathetic reason you want this to go well. You want them to love Joel as much as you do.

"It's Joel, sir, ma'am," Joel says, all southern manners as he shakes each of their hands. He brushes by you to do so and you can't help but inhale his cologne, dark and spicy.

"Pleasure to meet you," your mother says with a quick once over of what Joel's wearing. When she sees no obvious designer labels you can tell she's already written him off. 

Your dad however is intrigued by Joel's appearance, being the only other man in a group of women. He gravitates towards Joel with a little smile on his face. 

"So what do you do, Joel?"

"I run a renovation business with my brother," Joel answers with an easy smile that shows his dimple. You melt. He’s so fucking gorgeous. Your father gives a look of clear disapproval at his answer. 

"Just the two of you?" 

 "Ten years ago it was just the two of us and now we oversee a staff of twenty," Joel answers breezily able to overlook your father's open judgment.  He’s a humble man, not one prone to bragging. But you know what he’s trying to do, to disarm your parents, to make them like him. And the thought of why he’s doing that has your stomach spinning delightedly.

"Self made man, I respect that," your dad says nodding and you have to stop yourself so you don't beam with pride over at Joel. 

"S'how I was raised," Joel shrugs with humility. 

"Same here," your dad says with an approving nod. "Built up my law firm from nothing. Now we're one of the biggest in Chicago."

"Impressive," Joel says even though you know he couldn't care less.

His eyes dart to you briefly before landing back on your father. He’s likely noticing how different you are from your parents. They’re all cold, serious calculation while you are smiles and blushes and easy affection.

"Wish you boyfriend took a page for Joel's book here," your dad says with a look in your direction. "That Conrad was raised with a silver spoon firmly lodged in his mouth."

The smile you had on your face falls immediately. You feel your hackles rise up when it feels like all eyes suddenly drift over to you.

Why are they still bringing up Conrad?

"Conrad and I broke up months ago."

"That's what you said at Christmas too," your mother says with a sniff, digging through her purse for her lipstick. "Then by January it was on again."

Your jaw clenches tightly. This is a classic family maneuver, making you feel insecure in your decisions.

"I'm sure you two will find yourselves back in each other's arms soon enough," your father says not bothering to hide his displeasure at the thought. He covers it with a false laugh that your mother smiles politely at.

"I can promise you I won't," you say with a tone bordering on a growl. You're just thankful you haven't seen Conrad at graduation all day. 

"I sure hope not," Joel murmurs surprising you all. Even Sarah glances over at this in surprise and you feel Joel's panic. His eyes widen a fraction before his mouth curls into a displeased line and he shrugs.

"Just from what I heard from Sarah I think you deserve much better."

Sarah shoots you an apologetic expression to which you reply with an an embarrassed half shrug. You’re not upset that she talks about you with him. If anything it’s sort of sweet.

"Anyway I better be gettin,' Sarah and Charlie here out to dinner," Joel says taking your hand in his a moment. "Happy graduation to you."

You feel your heart flutter, willing the blush in your cheeks to die down. 

"Thanks, Mister Miller."

He gives you a subtle wink before bidding farewell to your parents. Sarah pulls you in for another tight hug. 

"Promise me you'll come out and visit me when I get back."

Your eyes fly to Joel behind her shoulder for only a moment before you're nodding and smiling back at her.

"Definitely."

“If she’s not busy playing around in school that is,” your father laughs from behind you before turning his attention on your roommate. “Sarah, you were studying… what again?”

“Computer Sciences,” Sarah answers hesitantly.

“A good career path,” your dad continues, despite everyone in the vicinity being uncomfortable. “Much better than Anthropology. Might as well be Philosophy for all the decent paying jobs it’ll get you.”

Your eyes are wet before you can stop them. You cringe visibly, gaze on the ground as they always are when your parents are around. They have the uncanny ability to make you feel so impossibly worthless, so misunderstood, so unseen for who you truly are. 

You can’t even look at Joel you’re so ashamed. You must look so pathetic to everyone.

"Sarah why don't you and Charlie go get the car," Joel murmurs to her with a gentle smile as he hands her the keys to his rental car. "I'll be there in a sec." 

Sarah shoots her dad an inscrutable look before shrugging and taking Charlie's hand and Joel's keys. She casts a worried look at your face before she breaks from your group. You watch them disappear into the crowd before your eyes draw back to Joel and suddenly the levity from his face is gone. 

He steps towards your parents, dropping his voice. This is a Joel you rarely run into. An angry Joel that’s quiet voice is more terrifying than a shout or scream. The quieter he gets the more nervous you become and right now his voice is a soft purr.

"Now I'm normally not one to tell a man how to speak to his kid, but you're being downright shameful to yours."

Your stomach swoops in both elation and terror. You want to kiss Joel senseless for sticking up for you, but seeing your dad's brows rise has you staring between both of them in shock. 

“What did you just say?” your father asks, convinced he’s heard incorrectly.

“I said you're talkin’ to your daughter shamefully,” Joel says speaking slowly and enunciating as if your father is slow. Your mother gives a small gasp at this, her hand going to your father’s shoulder. He shakes it off, his face pinking all over as he glares at Joel.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Your dad seethes. 

Your dad takes a step towards Joel, used to people backing down from him at work. But this isn't his law office and Joel has a good three inches on him, not to mention biceps and broad shoulders that would easily pummel your father to dust. 

He pauses when Joel steps forward as well, your boyfriend not backing down a fraction. 

"Sarah's known your girl for years and we had the pleasure of having her to ours this Christmas," Joel tells your father, looking thunderous. "She's a delight."

"Not so delightful for her parents," your mother chimes in. "You wouldn't understand Mister Miller. Your daughter clearly has ambitions and-"

"And yours doesn't?" Joel bites back. "Sarah told me she wants to be a professor." 

Sarah told him no such thing. It was you who told him during your time together. He looks over at you, concerned that he got that incorrect. 

"That right?"

"Yeah," you nod, trying not to smile. Joel looks back at your parents and his gaze turns cold again. 

"'Side from that, your daughter is smart and talented and funny as hell," Joel sneers at your parents. "And that's nothing compared to her warmth and her heart. And now that I've met you both I don't know where the fuck she got that from."

You are officially fucking Joel Miller's brains out later. Right after you stop the tears pricking the back of your eyes. 

"She doesn't need people like you in her life," Joel continues and you know he's saying this part for your benefit despite glaring at your parents. "She's a strong, independent woman that doesn't need anythin' other than herself. And if you both don't get your heads straight, she's gonna walk right outta your life and never look back and it’ll be your loss." 

Your parents can only stare at him and your father, always so quick with a harsh comment or jab is silent. His face is so red it's almost mauve. His hands are at fists at his side. Your mother looks like she's about to faint. 

You however feel as if your heart is overflowing with your love for Joel in this moment. 

Joel turns his eyes on you and you pray no one can see the burning passion he holds for you in that gaze because it seems so obvious to you. 

"You wanna grab dinner with us?" Joel asks you, jaw clenched. You know he desperately wants to hold you, to bring you into his arms. 

"No it's okay," you tell him with a gentle smile. "You have fun with Sarah and Charlie."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

You see the concern in his dark eyes, the searing depths of his affection. But he's aware that you know your own mind and so he just nods, giving you a small smirk before he's heading away from you. 

"Take care." 

The second he's out of earshot your parents are tripping over themselves to talk. 

"That rude man!"

"Uneducated idiot."

"Did you see what he was wearing? And the way he spoke? Positively barbaric," your mother spits, readjusting the purse on her shoulder and shooting you a levelling look. 

Joel’s broad shoulders are disappearing into the crowd, but as if he can feel your gaze he turns. He sees your eyes searching for him and he darts his gaze to your parents, seeing they’re both facing you. He gives you a gentle smile and wink and then he’s gone, leaving you warm and strangely emboldened.

"I don't want you anywhere near that family." 

You turn to face your parents who are still fuming about Joel and for some reason you suddenly see them for what they truly are.

Small. 

Joel made them small. So small that it seems foolish you were ever afraid of them at all. So small that is laughable to think that they have any control over your life. You owe them nothing. They give you nothing but pain and a love that is built on toxicity.

And suddenly it's so easy to sever that tie between you and them. 

"Enough about that horrible man," your father grumbles. "Dinner reservations are-"

"I'm going back to my dorm," you inject with a smile, feeling strangely light. "You two enjoy dinner."

"Excuse me?" Your father is exasperated with everything that has gone on. You see it in the tired look he’s giving you. “Since when?”

"I don't want to have dinner with you," you tell them, unable to stop your smiling from growing. "Either of you. So you two go on. Enjoy." 

You've never spoken back to them like this. Never with this serene calm, this positively cheerful countenance. You feel your phone vibrate in your purse and you just know it’s a message from Joel. The thought makes it even easier to stand there staring them down.

Your parents gape at you as the crowd of students mills past, looking at your beaming face. It's your father that speaks first. 

"This disrespect you're showing your mother and I is disgusting," he spits. "Your sister-"

"Heather isn't here," you tell them so sharply they wince. "And I'm sick of being compared to her."

You've never mentioned Heather’s name to them. Not in all the years since your sisters death. You've felt too guilty, too scared.

But no more. 

"Hey now," your dad begins, his face falling. "We never-"

"I'll never be Heather and that's fine because I'm me," you say over him. "And I don't need the two of you trying to tell me that's a bad thing." 

They both stare at you, your mother's jaw is actually dropped, almost cartoonishly so. You realize that this is it between you and them. They brought you into the world and they've made you regret it ever since. They’ve punished you for surviving that car crash instead of Heather. You're done with them. 

You thrust the pen and the wooden box it came in back at your father. He takes it in slow shock, as if what's happening is a dream.

"So go enjoy your dinner," you tell them. "And have a safe trip back."

You take the phone from your purse as you stride from them. They call your name but you ignore them, your eyes are already on the text from Joel. 

[HIM 💜]: Same hotel as last time. Room #461. Give your name at the front desk. Come when you can. Can’t wait to hold you, beautiful girl.

///

You sit at the bar of the hotel a short while later. Your overnight bag is at your feet and you're still wearing that stupid dress front your parents because you wanted to rush over here. You'd been so desperate to see Joel, to feel his arms around you, his mouth on your flesh. 

But then as you strode into the hotel and saw the trendy looking bar you decided that a drink was necessary. A celebration for how you stood up to your parents. And then something Joel said months ago tickled the back of your brain. A comment that has stayed with you. 

“Do you think we could pretend for this week? That I'm not married, that you're not my daughter's friend? That we met in a bar one night and found each other attractive and just wanted to spend time together gettin' to know one another?”

You smile as you sit at the bar; legs crossing before you order a gin martini from the bored looking bartender. You pull out your phone, typing hurriedly amongst the chatting patrons and jazzy music over the speakers.

I’m at the bar downstairs.

[HIM 💜] ??

Come down. Dress nice. Xx

Joel walks into the dimly lit bar minutes later, his eyes traveling the length of the space until they get to your face. The smile that breaks out nearly makes you faint at the sight. But you maintain your composure, pretending you don’t notice him until he’s right beside you.

He’s so close you can smell his freshly applied aftershave and the soap he used to wash this morning

“Hey bab-“

"That seat is free for now,” you say coolly pointing to the leather stool next to you. Joel gives you a confused smile, crooked and endearing.

“Huh?”

“Look like my date is running late," you tell him in a flat voice, taking a sip of your drink.

Joel looks a bit offended at your cool tone and lack of smile.

"But perhaps you could keep me company until he arrives."

Joel's mouth curves into a smirk as he catches onto the little game. His eyes dip down the length of your body before he backs up a few paces. He adopts a more seductive look, his eyelids lowering a fraction.  

"Hello there, my name's Joel Miller," he replies in a husky purr as he takes the seat next to you at the bar. "And you are quite possibly the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen."

"I accept the compliment Mister Miller," you say with a calm nod, trying not to giggle at the characters you're both playing. You want to play this out as long as possible. There’s something hot about the people around you not knowing you two are together.  

"Call me Joel," he replies gently. He holds his hand to you and you take it, noting how warm his tender grip is, how sweetly he rubs your knuckles with his thumb before gently dropping your hand when you pull back.

"Alright Joel," you reply breathlessly. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine,” Joel assures you, eyes raking up and down your form before settling on your eyes. “Pardon me for sayin’, but your date is a fool to let a woman as gorgeous as you sit here alone for more than a second."

“Quite forward of you,” you say with a cool raise of your brow, trying to suppress your smirk. The bartender comes over and takes Joel’s order, quickly sliding him a whisky before going to attend to the other patrons.

“So what’s a beautiful woman like you do for fun?”  Joel inquires, taking a sip of his drink.

"Oh I haven’t had much time for fun. My day today was especially taxing," you tell him, swirling the toothpick and olive in your martini glass in what you hope is a seductive manner. 

"Oh yeah?" Joel is practically purring. "Tell me all about it."

"Well, first off, I graduated with honors today."

Joel gives an impressed whistle as if he’s not completely aware. "Sexy and smart? Damn, baby, you're somethin' else."

You grin, feeling your cheeks pink in delight.  

"Then my parents started in on me right after the ceremony," you say rolling your eyes. "And just when I was gonna fall apart, my boyfriend just let them have it. He told them off. I've never seen anything like it. My parents just stood there and it was so inspiring that when he left, I told them off too."

"Really?" Joel breathes, his face midway between concern and amusement. 

"Mhmm. And it felt amazing. So amazing that I wanted to come to this bar and celebrate." You give Joel a sultry look. "Then you came up to me and well, here we are."

Joel smirks cheekily and you feel his hand come to the back of your bar seat.  

"Can I tell you somethin’?" Joel asks, lowering his voice so you have to tilt closer to hear. His full lower lip grazes your earlobe when he speaks. "Every man in this bar is hoping you'll go home with him."

He pulls back, his pupils expanding rapidly. You let your hand fall to his knee, rubbing gently as you give him a grin.

"Oh, I'm very discerning," you say coquettishly. "I won't go home with just any man. He has to be the right type. Older, handsome, smart, sweet... The whole package."

You watch Joel's golden cheeks turn pink at the compliment. He takes a deep pull off his whisky. He leans back in his bar stool, looking at you tenderly.

"So Miss Genius who graduated with honors. What's next for you?"

"I'm starting my Masters in the fall," you say with a proud smile as if Joel wasn't already aware. "Got a really good scholarship too. Just have to work a bit too save up for the rest."

"How're you gonna do that when you're in school?" Joel takes another sip. 

"Oh, it's all online," you tell him as you drain your own glass. "A lot of them are now with everyone's schedules and how hard it is to make ends meet."

"It is?" Joel says and you can tell he's dropped a bit of the act. "I didn't know that."

"Yeah I needed it to be online so I can work at the same time," you explain, then your brow furrows as something occurs to you. Joel notices immediately.

"What?"

"Oh it's just... I just realized I also need to find a place to rent," you say more to yourself than anything. The character you've embodied slips away from you and you blink rapidly." My parents sure as fuck won't be welcoming me back with open arms after what I said to them. And even if they did I don't want anything from them."

Joel looks at you a long time, his fingers tracing absently along the bar top. He looks like he wants to say something but he holds back. 

"But that's not exactly first meeting in a bar kind of talk," you say, lowering your hand to fall atop his and you let your voice drop to a seductive purr. "Tell me about yourself." 

“Whadda ya wanna know, beautiful?”

You cross your legs the other direction, facing him more. You notice his eyes flit to your bared legs and then back to your face.

“Well your accent isn’t from around here so what brings you to our fine city, Joel?”

“Here to watch my daughter graduate,” Joel says with a gentle swirl of his drink. “I’m from Texas.”

“You got anyone special in your life, Texas?”

“I do,” Joel nods, eyes like burning coals. “This girl I’ve been seein’ that I’m just crazy about. Can't get her outta my head."

"The sex must be great," you giggle with cheeks flaming. 

"No words," Joel admits with a dimpled grin. "But s'not the sex that does it for me."

"No?"

"Nah," Joel shakes his head. "See, she's real smart. Startin' a Master's degree in the fall."

"Wow."

"She's not just smart," Joel shrugs, taking another pull from the bottle. "She's gorgeous too. Fuckin’ stunning."

He watches your eyes drift to his collar, suddenly shy. This emboldens him, makes him lean closer again until his whisky-soaked breath lands in huffs against your cheek.

"I miss how she smells," Joel continues. "I never told her this but I went to the mall and got a bottle of the perfume she wears. I spray it on my pillow from time to time just to make it feel like she’s there." 

"You do not!"

"I do," Joel chuckles. "Never smells the same as when she wears it though." 

Shit, you can feel your eyes watering.

"And when I talk to her she's the first person who's really listened. She doesn't just nod and wait for her turn to speak. She's the first partner that's ever really wanted to take care of me." 

Partner.

"You're easy to take care of," you murmur. "I assume," you add hastily, not wanting to break character. 

"So's she," Joel tells you and his face sobers. "The kinda woman I would die to take care of. But I worry. I'm pretty old-"

"Not old-"

"And she's got a whole future in front of her,” Joel says and the levity is gone from his face. “I worry I’d hold her back from it. Hold her back from a lot.”

It takes all your resolve not to throw yourself into his arms right this second. Instead you give him an impossibly gentle smile, leaning your face closer to his.

“You said this woman is smart,” you reason, feeling your pulse flutter. “I think she knows exactly what she wants. And from what it sounds like, she wants you, Joel.”

Joel gazes at you a few moments, his finger absently tracing the rim of his whisky glass.

"You know you're a beautiful woman," he murmurs in a sultry tone, his eyes lowering seductively. "And this may be forward but I'm staying at this hotel and I'd love to take you to my room." 

You smile.

"I'd love that, Joel."

///

You’re in each other’s arms seconds after opening the door to your room. Joel crashes his mouth against your and you leap into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. He licks into your mouth as he stumbles the two of you towards the bed.

He lowers you gently to the floor, giving a lingering kiss to you before the ruffles of your dress rasping against his shirt distract him.  

“Such an innocent looking girl in this dress,” Joel muses, his wide hands sliding down the white fabric as he smiles. “Who’re you tryin’ to fool, baby?”

“I didn’t pick it,” you huff a laugh. “They did.”

The amusement is immediately gone from Joel’s face. Without warning Joel’s hands are at the neckline of your dress. You frown up at him before gasping as he rips the fabric brutally. It tears down the middle, exposing your breasts.

“Joel!”

He turns you around, ripping the skirt from it as well. You’re left in tatters of fabric and you watch as ruffles hit the carpet slowly before looking up at him and laughing. He grins at you, throwing some of the remaining lace fabric in his hands onto the floor.

“Joel,” you laugh loudly. “What the fuck?”

“You don’t have to wear what they tell you to ever again,” he promises you. “You don’t have to listen to another goddam thing they say. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.  You’re your own woman. And when I take you to bed I’m fucking you, sweet girl. Not some virginal doll version of you that they’ve created in their heads.”

You shiver in anticipation as you feel his warm body behind you, still clothed. You feel Joel’s hands come to your waist, holding you.

“My good girl fucks like a champ,” Joel whispers against your ear. “And she loves my cock doesn’t she?”

“Yes,” you sigh.  

“She likes fucking in public,” Joel continues, hands coming to cup your breasts from behind. You feel his hips rubbing against your lower back, cock hard and waiting for you. “She gets wet bein’ a bad girl.”

“Fuck, I do,” you whimper, letting Joel take control of your movements as you go boneless against him. “I really do.”

“That’s who I’m taking to bed,” Joel reminds you, pulling the remaining tatters of your clothing off your body until you’re standing in nothing but the red panties you picked out. His eyes are drawn to them, a smirk bleeding over his face.

“And look at that,” he says as his hands slip down the front. “She’s already wet for me.”

“Always.”

He kneels in front of you and unties your panties at the hip, groaning appreciatively as they flutter to the ground. You’re naked before him, and you feel his eyes take in every square inch of flesh. You hear his clothes fall to the ground in a rustling heap.

His mouth is on your pussy before you even register what he's doing. You feel your body tensing before his large hands come to hold your thighs in place.

"Such a pretty pussy," he groans, delving deeper between your folds. You feel your legs begin to tremble. He begins giving you exquisitely probing kisses between your thighs, chuckling when you begin to tremor.

"Please Joel," you beg quietly. "I need your cock."

He gently ushers you to the bed onto your belly before bracketing your hips with his thighs. Joel's fingers move to the back of your neck, curled into your hair. He moves it up, out of the way so he can press long kisses to the bare flesh of your neck. 

"My girl loves gettin’ fucked," Joel grunts out above you. "Ain't nothin' virginal about her." 

He groans against your shoulder as he slides into you, hips slowly pressing against the swell of your ass. You sigh, allowing yourself to be pressed into the mattress. You’ve missed this. And judging by his poorly stifled moans, Joel has missed it too.

"Such a good girl," Joel coos, coating himself in your copious arousal. "She missed me."

"Uh huh," you whimper out because all of you has missed Joel. Not just your body but your heart, your mind. You can hear him smile behind you as you thrust yourself back on his length.  

"Such a pretty girl," Joel murmurs as he pulls out and then slowly pushes himself in again. He kisses the top of your spine, tongue trailing over your flesh as you moan below him. Your wrists are held by him, resting at your lower back. Your face is tilted, cheek on the sheets as you moan, your vision growing blurry. 

You can only writhe under him, body flailing with pleasured arches. Silent screams to keep going to go deeper. Nothing is rushed, everything is tempered and slow and deep. He fills you up so fucking well, so achingly patient.

"She likes having this pretty pussy full 'a me," Joel says as if he has to remind you. "Don't you, baby?"

"Yes yes yes."

"Look at you," he marvels as he stares at you. His free hand slides down your spine, petting you like a cat. You smile drunkenly over your shoulder, watching his hips flexing as he continues to drive himself into you. "You need more, honey?"

You can only give a weak nod, going down on your forearms, presenting yourself to Joel to use. 

"Yeah, she needs it harder," Joel murmurs, you feel him flexing, cock sliding through your folds as you whine brokenly. Your head falls forward as your face screws up, brows saddling. Joel’s hot breath is at your ear, his voice a husky purr.

“What do you think your parents would say, knowin’ I’m balls deep in their sweet, innocent girl?” Joel murmurs, tongue coming to trace the shell of your earlobe. “What would they say knowing how you sucked my cock and begged for my come that first time?”

Your body twitches in arousal at that.

“What would they say if they knew their precious little girl was on my camera covered in my come an’ callin’ me Daddy?”

Joel continues to move so slowly within you, extending the pleasure to an almost unbearable level as he glides in and out of your drooling cunt. Joel's fingers begin to circle your clit as his cock thrusts into you.  

"Baby," you offer, voice sluggish. "You feel so fucking good."

"Naw sweet girl," Joel says running his nose against your cheek. "That's you. You make me feel so goddam good." 

You know what he's not saying and it's not just the sex. That being together feels good. That clinging to one another feels good. That just existing in this moment with each other feels so fucking good.

"Needed this cock didn't you?” Joel asks, hips starting to rock into you with more abandon. "Needed me to take care of you."

His hips are slapping against your ass now, making your eyes cheat to the back of your head. The slapping sound is so visceral, so overtly sexual.

"Yes," you manage to articulate.

"Needed my come?" 

You can't even answer that, you just let your eyes shut and feel as the climax courses through your body, making you cry out in broken sounds as Joel fucks into you. You milk his cock as you come down, body boneless. Joel continues, his hips driving forward over and over until-

-a knock at the door sounds.

You hear Joel curse behind you, his body stuttering to a stop. You give a high whine, head twisting to see him over your shoulder. His face is red, his forehead dotted with perspiration. He pulls out of you slowly before reaching for his pants.

"Dinner," Joel says raggedly. He kisses you again before pulling back, going to retrieve the tray whilst trying to hide his erection as you hold back a laugh. 

“But you didn’t come,” you remind him, as if it weren’t painfully obvious. Joel gives a breathy chuckle before kissing your sweaty cheek when he returns.

“Plenty a’ time for that, baby.”

Dinner is a steak for each of you with a side of fries, salad a charcuterie tray that Joel thought you’d like. You take a seat on the end of the bed with him and the two of you eat, chatting away about Joel’s flight over here and how he feels about Charlie (bumpy and he’s a good kid).

A short while later when everything is digested he removes the champagne from where it sits over ice and offers to pour you a glass. You’re struck by his thoughtfulness, of all the trouble he went to for you.

“Joel this is so sweet of you.”

“It gets sweeter,” Joel says with a grin. He lifts one of the silver trays and you smile when you see chocolate covered strawberries for dessert. Joel pours you each a flute of the champagne before handing you yours.

"To my genius girlfriend," Joel toasts, clinking his glass to yours. "And her extremely bright future." 

"To my impossibly sweet boyfriend," you say smiling dopily. “And his huge heart.”

The two of you sip your champagne, letting the bubbles tickle your tongue. He holds the plate of strawberries out to you but you shake your head. 

Joel watches as you place your flute down on the floor before crawling into his lap. He gives a soft chuckle before you're nestled in between his legs. He drains his champagne glass, placing it on the side table. 

"I want a different dessert," you breathe, urging his large hand between your legs and gently rocking. "Is that okay?"

His fingers curl into you, finding you wet and waiting. Your thighs spread, giving him better access to penetrate you deeper with his fingers. 

"Yeah, that's okay," Joel breathes against your skin. "S'your big day, baby. You tell me what-"

Before he can finish the sentence there's another knock at the door. Joel freezes as if remembering himself. He tugs your robe closed. 

"Put on some panties," he urges you. "Your other gift is here." 

"Another gift, Joel? And one I need panties for?"

"Trust me," Joel winks at you. "Now put on panties like a good girl even though we know you're anything but."

He swats your ass playfully as you sit on the edge of the bed; watching Joel turn the corner and hearing him open the door.  You pull on and re-tie your red panties once more, listening as your boyfriend opens the doors to two strangers you can barely make out in the mirror.

"Oh I thought they were sending two ladies," Joel said, his rumbling voice a twinge irritated. 

"So sorry Mister Miller, our usual girl called in sick,” a small redhead says with a concerned look. “Gus is all we had available. But I know you specifically requested deep tissue and he is the best.”

Joel pauses and then nods. “Alright then. Lemme help you with the tables.”

All southern manners Joel brings in the woman’s table despite her protests. You watch as the two  masseurs dressed in white pants and white t-shirts set up their tables, bringing out lotion and a portable speaker.

“We’re here for your couples massage,” the woman says grinning from you to Joel. “We hear you’re celebrating your graduation.”

“I am.”

“Congrats,” the man – Gus – says with a patient smile in your direction. “You must be glad it’s over.”

“I guess not glad enough,” you laugh. “I start my Masters in the fall.”

The woman is small with large eyes and a smattering of freckles over her nose. Gus is tall with blonde hair and the straightest teeth you’ve ever seen. He comes over to you with a charismatic nod of his head.

"I take it you’re the one who likes deep tissue?"

“Yes.”

"My name is Gus, I'll be your masseur today. Please let me know if you have any problems with the treatment.”

You see Joel eyeing you from where he stands by his table.

“Greta and I are going to step into the bathroom to give you both some privacy to undress to your comfort and slip under the sheets. Any questions? No? Alright then." 

The two of them head into the bathroom, closing the door behind them. You shoot Joel an amused look before the two of you undress to your underwear. You can’t help but let your eyes linger on Joel’s broad naked back as he lays himself on the massage table. He sees your peering as he pulls up the sheet to his waist.

“You gonna stare at me all night?”

You give a sheepish smile before climbing onto the table next to his, raising the blanket up to your shoulders before spinning onto your stomach.

Greta and Gus emerge when Joel calls out that you’re ready. The lights in the hotel room are dimmed and your eyes shut. The scent of lavender washes over you, the oil warmed by Gus’ hands. At the first stroke along your back you give a soft sigh, enjoying the feel of your muscles being taken care of.

You sneak a glance to see Joel laying with his eyes shut tightly, looking more in pain than anything. You hold in a laugh before closing your eyes again and surrendering to the calming sensation of Gus’ large hands on your body. 

The massage is divine. So much so that you can't help the little mewls and groans that escape you when Gus hits a particularly good spot. You didn't realize how tense you were.

You hear Joel give a few coughs during the massage, but you barely notice. Greta murmurs something to him and he shakes his head. She nods and you hear Joel give a soft groan when she gets to his lower back.

You’re not the only one feeling good and this pleases you greatly. Joel works so hard, he deserves to be spoiled. With Gus' strong palms pressing into your shoulder blades along with the lavender scented oil you feel transported. 

The hour goes by too fast and when the masseurs tell you to relax before getting up you want to cry. You wanted it to keep going on and on.

"Thank you so much," you murmur to Gus, your voice dripping with gratitude.

"We'll just step outside so you can get dressed again," they tell you and Joel in quiet whispers. "Please take your time standing."

You make a soft sighing noise before you feel Joel’s hand skimming along your spine. “That feel good?”

“So good,” you groan, allowing him to help you off the table and into the robe. He sashes it for you before giving you a kiss. He walks over to the door, allowing the masseurs to enter back into the room. They hand you both a glass of water that you drink eagerly.

"We hope you enjoyed your treatment."

“We did,” you enthuse sleepily. You feel so good right now, your limbs heavy in a sleepy way.

"Your boyfriend is so thoughtful," Gus murmurs as he packs up. 

"Mhmmm," you say with a wide grin. "I'm very lucky." 

You and Joel watch them pack up their things before they’re heading out. When the door is closed you flop down onto the bed, your body so relaxed. It feels heavenly to be touched like that, your muscles soothed.

"You liked that?"Joel says in a deep voice.

"Yeah, felt amazing." 

"Yeah?" Joel crawls over to your side of the bed, eyes primal. "I didn't."

Your eyes crack open to see Joel inches from your face. His dark eyes are blown black, his mouth curved into a tight smirk. He throws a leg over your waist, straddling you, his weight heavy and pressing you into the mattress. 

"What didn't you like, Mister Miller?"

"Watching that man touchin' you," Joel murmurs, eyes on your waist as he unties your robe.

A fire flames in you at the jealous tinge of his voice.  You’ve never really known Joel to be jealous. Even with Conrad he’d been more territorial by the end. But having Joel jealous . . . it’s kind of a turn on.

"He was just doing his job," you say rolling your eyes. 

"He was taking his time and starin'," Joel says with a sheepish grin. "I saw him."

"You were watching me the whole time? Weren't you just enjoying your own massage?" You ask with a laugh. 

"I did both."

You break into a fit of giggles as Joel's face breaks into a guilty grin

"He was just doing his job," you repeat and almost laugh at the petulant jealousy Joel is displaying. 

"I know," Joel says with an embarrassed flush over his cheeks. "I just hated watchin' another man touch you and you makin,' those noises for him."

His hands gently throw open your robe, displaying your breasts to him. He makes a soft noise of appreciation, hand sliding up your ribcage to cup them. You shutter when the thumbs drag along your nipples and they pebble tightly under his touch. 

"I wanna be the only one making you feel that good," Joel continues, amusement clear in his face when you begin to start squirming under his touch. 

"No one makes me feel as good as you do," you assure him, feeling his cock resting heavily on your belly. "No one."

You groan as he removes the robe from his body before pinning your wrists at either side of your head on the pillow. 

"Yeah?" Joel cocks his head to the side, smirking. "I think you need to remind me."

"I'll show you every fucking day if you let me," you groan, hips rolling under him. 

"Gonna need you to show me now," he says against your mouth.

"Joel you know I don't want anyone else," you tell him breathlessly. "I just want you."

"Yeah?" Joel's smile is genuine. 

"Yeah," you nod, "No one fucks me like you do," you tell him. "No one takes care of me like you do."

"I love takin' care of you," Joel admits, palms cupping your breasts again. He dips his head and rolls his tongue over a stiffened peak and groans when you shiver. 

You smile gently as he pulls you to a stand beside the bed. He removes the robe from your shoulders, leaving you beautiful and naked for him. He kisses your shoulder blade reverently, his hands slipping down to cup your ass.

He takes a moment to appraise your exposed flesh before he turns the lights off in the room. You wonder what he's doing when he's taking your hand and guiding you to the large window overlooking the darkened city. 

"I'm the only one who takes care of you," Joel murmurs as he twists your body around, facing you to the window. "And I want everyone to know it." 

The night is dark; the world dotted with streetlights, restaurant bistro lights, the warm little squares of nearby hotel rooms. 

"See them down there?" Joel asks, pointing to the people milling down on the ground below you. 

Its groups of patrons down several floors smoking and chatting near the entrance to the hotel bar. Several of them are smoking cigarettes or inhaling vapes. One girl shrieks and stumbles on her heels.

"Yeah."

The people below talk loudly, some tossing their heads back when they laugh. 

"You think any of 'em has seen a better pair of tits than these?"

His hands cup your breasts, thumbs grazing your nipples. You shiver, knowing that when Joel's voice drops to that dark baritone something is coming. He kneads your breasts, his mouth coming to kiss your neck, beard tickling the sensitive flesh there as you sigh. The sound of muted laughter breaks you from your reverie. 

"Joel someone could see-"

"Maybe," he teases before nibbling gently on your earlobe. "Maybe not."

His fingers are teasing your nipples into hard points, twisting gently until you whimper. Your cunt throbs, anticipation and fear coursing through you. 

"Bet if they can see they're thinking how they'd love the chance to fuck this sweet pussy," Joel continues, hand sliding to slip between your legs, fingers curling into your dripping cunt. 

"But they don't get to, do they sweet girl?" 

You rock against his touch, desperate for the friction. Your hand reaches behind you and goes to his neck as you lean against him, face tilting to his. 

"No," you promise him, head falling against his shoulder. "Only you." 

"That's right," Joel rasps against your cheek. "Only me." 

 Your eyes dart down to the group below and you pray that the darkness of the room shields you. You feel Joel hard and twitching at your lower back. He's getting off on this in a major way. 

"Let 'em see what they can't have," Joel whispers against your ear. "Let's show 'em what's mine." 

Joel's robe which had been shielding you slightly is pulled back from your body. You stand naked, framed by the large window. Your reflection is there, gazing at you like a sultry twin. You twist away from the cool glass, your cheeks flaming. 

"Joel-"

"Shhhh," Joel soothes, kissing the top of your head. "S'okay baby. I got you." 

His hand comes to your jaw, forcing you to keep your face pointed to the window. Your cheeks burn but you're so wet. You feel his body pressing into yours, herding you closer to the window. 

"That's my girl."

He continues like this, pressing you further against the window until your breasts are flattened against the glass. It's cool, and if your nipples weren't already pebbled they would be now. 

You allow yourself to be tilted, shifted, your stance widened and your pelvis pressed against the window. Your eyes remain on the figures below, terrified that they'll look up and see you naked and arched.

You hear Joel's robe fall to the ground and know that he too is naked behind you. His wide hand comes to cup your pussy and you whimper, eyes falling shut. You feel him notch himself at the entrance to your cunt. 

"Be good for me, now." 

Joel slides up into you, the two of you groaning in unison. He makes you feel so full, so deliciously stretched. His fingers begin to worry your clit, tapping and rubbing as he thrusts into you against the window before withdrawing. 

"Joel one of them is looking up," you say, even though the people are far away and they could be very well looking at any of the number of hotel rooms. 

"What do they see, baby?" Joel groans, shoulders rolling as he slides his fingers along the slick of your clit. 

"They see us," you groan, cheeks flaming. 

"Uh huh," Joel coos, cock teasing your entrance. "They see you takin' my cock like a good little slut." 

This sentence causes your knees to almost buckle and if not for Joel's body pressing you against the window you would have collapsed. 

"I want them to see how good my girl looks when I'm fucking her," Joel grunts out, pressing your body against the glass. Your pebbled nipples smoothed against the chilled surface. 

"They can't fuck you. Only me."

You whimper before Joel is sliding all the way once more, making your breath come out in little shudders. He picks up the pace, watching as you crest, and your orgasm washing over you. A small one, an appetizer. 

You wonder what the people below will see if they look up. A bit of movement in the darkness? Or a young woman pressed luridly against the glass while a broad shouldered older man pounds into her relentlessly? 

"They're watchin' me fuck what's mine." 

The possessiveness in his statement hits you directly in your cunt, causing you to moan lowly. Joel pins your hands to the window under his, both of your palms flat as he drives into you to the hilt.  

"You're all mine," Joel groans. His chin is on your shoulder, digging there. "Say it."

He thrusts brutally into you, his hips unrelenting. You're momentarily distracted before his voice is in your ear, hot and urgent. 

"Say it, baby."

"Say what?" 

"Say you're mine. I wanna hear it."

His hips are starting to thrust so hard it leaves you breathless, body jolting against the cool glass. It feels so good, so grounding. He presses all of him against you, your body flat against the window and he fucks up into you. His breath is hot at your temple, stirring the hair there. 

"I'm yours," you cry out. 

"Again."

"I'm yours, baby," you keen, hands slipping down the window, your body going boneless. Your cheek is shifting against the window, your now damp body squeaking against the glass. 

"Louder." 

"Yours," you punch out as Joel's mouth sucks at your jaw. Every word is now punctuated by Joel's snapping hips you pelvis smacking into the window. "Yours! Yours! Yours!"

He smells so good. Like sweat and the spicy cologne he wore at graduation and the lingering scent of the lavender massage oil. You want to wear that smell on you every day for the rest of your life. 

His breath is hot and damp on your neck, teeth scraping against your jaw. Your breasts are pressed tightly against the glass, showing your naked body off to anyone who can see this high up. His fingers rub your clit in gentle circles, palm pressing into your abdomen. 

"Again," Joel groans, his hips slamming into you, arousal soaking his length. You're pinned between his gyrating hips and the window. "Say it again."

"Joel I'm yours!" Your voice is cracking as your orgasm starts to creep up on you. "I'm fucking yours! I have been since Christmas!"

You're getting so close to another climax, you're almost there.

"You only want me and my cock" Joel groans, his hands on your hips now as he fucks you brutally, so much that you jump a bit with each thrust, your breasts rasping against the glass. "I'm the only one who fucks you properly." 

"You know I only want you," you tell him. "I only want you, Joel. I lo-"

You hold your tongue despite everything. Joel knows how you feel, he must. But the first time you told him he convinced you it was just a connection, not love. You don't want to be the one to say it again. 

He grips the back of your neck, forcing your head back and your mouth to graze his. He looks completely fucked out, shiny with sweat, pupils blown, mouth parted. 

"Mine," Joel rasps once before his mouth overwhelms you. His lips slot between yours as you let the pleasure overwhelm your core and tightened limbs. Your cries are weak and converging into whines as he continues fucking you. 

“Mine, mine, mine,” he growls against your open mouth. “Fucking mine.”

You come down moments later, body boneless and quivering against him. You feel like you're consumed by Joel, his arms around you, his body against yours. 

"I ain't done with you yet," he says breathlessly. Before you can say anything he has you in a bridal carry and he's taking you back to the bed. You gaze up at him with adoration, convinced your pupils must be heart shaped at this point. 

I love him. I love him. 

He sits at the end of the bed, holding you tenderly in his lap, body pliant and ready for whatever he'll offer you. You just want to be with him, near him, always. 

His eyes are roving your naked body, the sight of his turgid cock between your legs. He shifts, watching it slip between your lips, grazing the clit. 

"Joel," you sigh if only to hear the sound of it. 

He seems to remember himself at the sound, his eyes on yours. They go to your mouth, fingers gripping your chin. 

"You ready for more, baby?" He asks you, nose rubbing along your own. "Can I give you more?"

His palm trails over your breasts, down your stomach and grazing your inner thigh.

"Yes," you breathe, eyes heavily lidded. "I want more.”

There is a curl at the corner of his full mouth. 

"Be polite," Joel murmurs with a smirk. His mouth trails behind your ear, voice a soft huff. "Ask Daddy nicely, baby." 

Your eyes don't leave his face, even as your ass begins to roll over his hard and weeping cock. His mouth is at your neck, kissing and sucking. 

"Please."

"Please what?" He mutters against your throat. 

"P-please," you whimper shakily. "Please fuck me, Daddy." 

Joel groans low in his chest at the sound. He takes your hands in his; drawing them up, up until they're laced behind his neck. He leaves them there, his broad hands making their way down your arms, your breasts as you arch, your soft stomach and then between your legs. He holds your soft inner thighs and parts them widely. 

Your head tilts back, leaning against his shoulder so you can gaze up at him. He watches you for a moment, eyes tracing your face before he kisses you gently, tongue dabbing against yours as you settle there on his lap, hands on his at your waist.

And now he hooks your thighs over his own, parting both sets of legs widely until you're luridly exposed. Joel's fingertips make a slow trail along the crease of your thigh until they land at your clit. You make a small whimpering noise before settling back against him, eyes shutting in languid pleasure as your head sags forward.

Joel gently pulls your hair, tugging your face up from where it rests against your sternum. The pull is delicious, your heavy eyes staring up into the mirror above the dresser on the opposite wall of the hotel room.

“You're gonna take it like this," he tells your reflection in the mirror. "So we can both see how good you look when you're getting fucked by Daddy."

You whimper and nod, hand splayed over his. Joel is panting heavily behind you, large, dark eyes on yours in the mirror. Your eyes remain on his in the reflection, watching as he helps to lower you onto his cock. From this angle he feels even bigger. You're so slick that when he thrusts inside you think you’ll take him easily, but his size and the angle makes it a strain to take all of him at once. 

"You can do it, baby,” Joel soothes as the stretch makes you wince. You can see the flush over your cheeks, the red in Joel's face and chest. His muscles ripple under his beautifully tanned skin. 

"Be a good girl for me," Joel whispers against your temple. "Make Daddy feel good." 

///

Tess sees rather than hears the two of you first in the reflection of the mirror atop the hotel vanity. At first she's confused when she sees Joel on the edge of the bed facing the mirror. But then she sees the woman in his lap facing away from him, her knees slung over Joel's as he keeps her glistening sex spread wide. 

"That's right," Joel rasps against her temple. "I'm gonna take care of you, baby."

His cock is pressing between the woman's thighs, both coated in arousal as he thrusts. Tess can see his middle and ring finger on either side of the woman’s clit, rubbing gentle circles there.

"You always take care of me," the woman on Joel's lap groans, her thighs flexing as Joel drives himself up between her thighs. "Feels so good."

 When the woman lets out a husky moan Joel's eyes shutter but they never break from the woman. The woman's face tilts and Joel's eyes are so full of adoration that Tess feels physically sick. She watches as Joel's hands move to cup the woman's face. 

"Never felt this good with anyone," Joel tells her softly. "Never."

"Me neither," the woman whimpers before pressing her mouth to his. They kiss slowly, reverently, lovingly even as he fucks up into her. The woman makes a soft whimpering sound, her body quaking as Joel’s cock slides in and out of her. Joel's face breaks. His brows saddle and his thrusting reaches a fever pitch.

"Keep goin'," Joel is slurring. "Uh huh, you take it baby. This is all for you. S'always gonna be for you."

///

You sigh, feeling him bottom out inside you. He lets out a sharp hiss, his hands moving up your body to cup your breasts, pinching the nipples as you moan. He begins to thrust his cock into you, slowly at first, wanting you to acclimatize.

You watch yourselves in the mirror, hypnotized by the way Joel looks as he’s entering you over and over. The way he has your legs spread so wide, so obscene. The sight of Joel’s cock disappearing into your sopping cunt as he kneads your breasts. His eyes are heavy-lidded, but stuck on your face.

“You’re mine,” you tell his reflection, your damp temple pressed against his cheek. “Only mine.”

You don’t feel territorial like Joel, but you want to hear the words from him. There’s something like satisfaction in having Joel say it.

“Yes,” Joel pants, sawing his cock between your thighs. “Only yours.”

Your hands continue to lace around his neck, holding there as he continues to thrust. Your breasts bounce at every jolt, his large hands coming to hold your hips stationary.

"This is your cock baby," he tells you as he pumps into you. "Only you fuck it. Only you."

Your eyes are on his as he thrusts deep and fast, watching your body bounce on his lap, his broad forearms and shoulders caging you against him. 

"Joel you feel so fucking good," you moan, eyes closing as he drives himself firmly into you. "No one fucks me like you do."

"That's right," he purrs. "Because I’m yours and your mine n’ Daddy knows how to make his good girl feel good."

He’s fucking up into you with abandon, his hands on your thighs, keeping them apart. He can’t stop staring at the two of you in the mirror, bodies rising and falling together, slick with sweat, moaning together in some feral symphony.

You feel suddenly shy, your face turning to him, forehead pressing against his cheek.

"No no," Joel commands gently, his fingers gently forcing your face to the mirror. "Look at how good you look takin’ my cock, baby."

His face slides next to you, cheeks pressed together and in the mirrors reflection you can see the stark difference in your expressions. Joel is completely un-tethered, eyes narrowed and his teeth bared in a feral smile as he thrusts into you. It's the view of a man taking what he thinks is his, of possession, of desire. 

You on the other hand are completely fucked out, hair falling into your glassy eyes, mouth hanging open as you make inhuman noises, your naked body jolting with every thrust. You're totally gone, your body his to mold, hands barely able to hold onto his own around your waist. 

"Oh pretty girl," Joel groans heavily into your hair. "You're doin' so good. Keep goin' just like that. Daddy loves those sounds you're makin' just for him." 

"Fuck me harder Daddy," you gasp, bouncing along his cock. "Harder." 

He holds your thighs tightly, fingertips dimpling the flesh as he holds you open for him to see in the mirror and fucks into you even harder. He looks lost watching as your cunt swallows him time and time again, thrust after thrust. Joel cups your tits again, squeezing them together.

"Joel," you whine, pelvis tilting back and forth as you continue crying out at the ceiling. "I don't wanna stop."

"We're not gonna," Joel promises, the two of you falling into a rhythm as he flexes into you. "We ain’t stoppin’." 

He doesn’t know what you mean. That you don’t want to stop seeing him. You look over your shoulder at Joel and you let out a keen when you see how fucked out he looks. You have never wanted him more. 

"Joel,” you groan, eyelids fluttering. "I need to come."

"C'mon an’ be a good girl," Joel urges you; planting a sloppy kiss to your cheek as you two bounce together. "Use your manners."

He's so deep, working so hard that his back is slick with sweat. Your thighs burn as he holds you open but you don't stop, you don't even adjust because the strain adds to it. It makes it feel even deeper, even sharper.  His fingers are on your clit again, sliding and rubbing in the way he knows you love.

"That's my girl," Joel croons against your temple, his mouth breaking into a sinful smile against your hair. "So good for me."

"Please Daddy," you moan. "Let me come for you."

You rise and fall together like the waves of an ocean, his arms wrapped around your middle as your arm goes behind your head, fingers clinging to his neck, your forehead against his jaw. Your hips roll over him, sliding back and forth as Joel fucks into you. You stretch your spine out, back arching and face up at the ceiling as you cry out in high, raspy intonations. 

///

"Please Daddy, let me come for you."

The woman’s hips flex as she rides his cock. Her chest rises and Joel's left hand moves to cup her breast, his fingertips worrying her nipple. Tess tries to make out the woman's face but her hair is in her face. 

"You gonna come on Daddy's cock like a good girl?"

"Yes Daddy," the woman keens.

Tess feels her eyes blow wide at this. She's never heard Joel refer to himself as Daddy, has never had him encourage her to use the term. He's never fucked Tess on the edge of the bed, holding her in his lap and watching their damp bodies writhing together in the mirror. He's never been unrestrained, so recklessly passionate like this. 

Tess registers that her marriage is well and truly over not only because the woman is drawing moans from Joel that Tess has never been able to encourage in him in all their time together. It's because Joel has never looked at Tess the same way he's looking at the woman now. The naked look of reverence and desire mixed in one. Never shown himself to Tess like this, never let himself truly let go.

Tess can see Joel's slick cock sliding out and into the woman's bared pussy, deeper and harder with every thrust. 

“That’s it baby," Joel whispers against your mouth. "Give it all here. Lemme have it and you can have mine. Look at Daddy when you come for him."

She does, face tilted up to him, crying loudly and bouncing in his lap, her thighs spread wide. Tess sees arousal flooding over Joel's stiff cock still stuffing the woman's tight cunt. 

Tess holds in a grimace as Joel grips the woman's hips in his long fingers. 

"You like this?" Joel rasps, fingers worrying the woman's clit as she rides him. "Like me holding you open wide so you see how Daddy fucks his good girl?"

Tess watches the woman’s stomach tighten, sees the fresh gush of arousal around Joel’s cock and knows that she’s come. She gives out a shuddering cry of Joel’s name, her fingernails digging into his hands on her hips. Joel watches her face with a look of naked adoration, his mouth curling into a crooked smile.

“Feel good, baby?”

"Yes," she replies and Tess feels her stomach heave when the two share a soft and tender kiss. 

The woman says something else but Tess doesn't hear it. The woman's mouth moves to Joel's ear and suddenly he's got her around the waist, holding her against his chest as his cock saws in and out of her dripping slot, the sounds obscene in the quiet hotel room.

"You feel so fuckin’ good," Joel grunts, his voice guttural.

The woman moans, hips rolling. Her palm comes to hold Joel’s cheek. "Wanna make you come, Joel."

And she does. Tess watches Joel’s face go pinched, his hands clutching the woman tightly to him as his hips slap against her from behind. Joel moans, his entire body convulsing a moment before he empties himself into the woman. They both groan at the sensation, bodies so tightly pressed as their hips slowly stutter to a stop.

Tess stares at the woman and Joel, her eyes fixed on the debauched view of his come leaking out of her pussy as she sits spread wide on his lap. Joel's eyes won't leave the woman's face and the woman’s fingers lace through his curls at the base of his scalp. 

"I've never wanted someone the way I want you," Joel confesses quietly.

It's not just that comment which infuriates Tess. It's the way Joel's eyes are still gazing into the woman's face. It's an open, loving look without restraint. The woman murmurs something to Joel, something Tess can't hear. And suddenly Tess can't take it another second. She bursts towards them, eyes blazing.

"What the fuck is going on?"

///

You start when you hear Tess ' voice sound out behind you. Instinct tells you to turn around but everything in you stays frozen on Joel's lap as his softening cock slips from you. 

"Tess," Joel croaks. "What are-"

He stops himself, realizing that he's still holding your naked body open wide. You know he's hoping the same things you are. That Tess didn't see your face. 

Joel snaps into action, he grips the nearby robe and wraps it around you. He slips you off his lap, leaving you shaking on the bed as he pulls on his boxers. He stands between you on the bed and Tess standing watching you hide behind him.

Tess stands at the door of the room, her suitcase in one hand and a hotel key card in the other. In your frenzy neither of you heard the beep of the door as she came in. 

"Conference got cancelled," Tess says stiffly. "Thought I'd come surprise you and Sarah. Looks like I really surprised you."

Tess is quiet as you rush off to the bathroom, Joel's come leaking down your leg. You slam the door behind you, leaning against it as you slump to the floor. You can hear their voices outside in the room.

“How did you get in here?”

“I told them my husband was staying here,” Tess hisses back. "Who the fuck was that, Joel?"

"None of your business, Tess.”

You sit against the door, ear pressed even though they're both speaking so loudly you needn’t have bothered.

“Should have known you’d have a little side piece to keep your cock warm.”

“That’s not what she is,” Joel defends angrily. “And you’re not mad at her. I’m the one you were married to.”

 “Were?” Tess says choking down a laugh. “Did I miss something Joel? Last time I checked we still were.”

“Tess,” Joel says in a soft voice. “The divorce papers are signed. I don’t even know why you’re here in the first place.”

“I was coming here to see if we could still make it work,” Tess says chagrined. “I have the divorce papers in my bag. I was sitting on mailing them out. Fucking foolish of me when you have a little whore keeping your dick wet.”

“Don’t call her that,” Joel snaps. “I’m serious.”

You wish you could see him through the door. You stand, moving to sit on the toilet, wrapping the robe tighter around you. You clean yourself with one of the towels, feeling sick to your stomach.

“She seemed young,” Tess scoffs. “Now I understand the fascination. Bet you love eating her pussy don’t you? She taste good, Joel? Sweet?”

Joel doesn’t answer and you’re frankly shocked at how Tess is speaking. She didn’t seem this kind of person when you met her at Christmas.

“She just love sucking your cock?” Tess continues and you can feel Joel’s shame through the door. “Does she know you have a daughter about her age?”

“Yes.”

“How long have you known her for, Joel?”

Silence. The kind of silence that is more incriminating

Say something Joel. Something. Anything.

And then he does say something. But it’s not what you expect.

“No, Tess don’t-“

The door to the bathroom is thrust open and Tess stands in the doorway, staring down at you. You feel your soul leave your body when her see her register who you are.

"You?" She chokes out. "You?!"

"I'm so sorry," you say and the tears are spilling from your eyes. "I'm so so sorry."

Because you are.

You feel so deeply ashamed with yourself. All the times you told yourself it was a fling and it didn’t matter. All the times you pushed Tess from your mind because she wasn’t there to remind you that you were doing something incredibly wrong. And you feel so much guilt because you want her husband, you love him.

Tess backs into the room, her eyes blown wide as she looks at you emerging from the bathroom, face blotchy and eyes wet with tears.

“I welcomed you into my home,” Tess whispers in horror, her face white. “I cooked for you, I- Oh my God – is this… did it start back then?” She whirls on Joel looking ashamedly at his feet. “How long has this been going on, Joel? Tell me the fucking truth.”

Joel’s voice is low and quiet.

“Christmas.”

“Christmas,” Tess echoes weakly. “You’ve been fucking this little college slut for months?”

“Hey,” Joel says sharply, inadvertently coming to stand between Tess and the bed, shielding you.

“Big, strong protector,” Tess says with a disgusted laugh. She gives you a hollow look. “Until he gets bored of you and finds another college girl to fuck, right?”

“Tess, I know you’re hurtin’ and I’m sorry,” Joel says truthfully. “But you need to stop.”

“Did you fuck her in our bed?”

Joel can’t reply and you feel your stomach drop when Tess shake her head before sneering over at you, giving you a once over full of derision. Then her eyes are back on Joel’s increasingly red face.

“You get that you’re just some older guy she’ll fuck until she gets bored. A story she’ll look back on and laugh about with her age appropriate husband in about ten years.”

"Tess-"

"You feel good knowing you threw away our entire marriage for some college pussy?"

“Stop, please,” you beg, hating the look that’s clouding Joel’s face. That scared, uncertain look. “Please, Tess.”

"Why?" Tess scoffs angrily and you flinch at the way she hisses at you. “You don’t like hearing the truth? How you broke up a family because you wanted to fuck my husband?”

You hate knowing that you’ve hurt Tess so badly. You just never thought she would find out.

“Tess stop,” Joel says and now his voice is that same dark whisper. The scary one that sets goosebumps across your body. “I was the one that cheated on you. Be mad at me.”

“Oh don’t worry about that, I am,” Tess says with a shallow laugh before pointing at you with the key card. "But she played an equal part in this. If she’s old enough to have an affair with my husband, she’s old enough to hear this. You understand that you’re a midlife crisis, right? Most men get sportscars, but I guess Joel Miller’s not like most men.”

“She ain’t that,” Joel tells Tess and you feel the anger mixed with shame radiating off of him.

“No?” Tess’s mouth is curled into a ghoulish expression of amusement. “Why Joel? Are you in love with her or something?”

"Yes."

The speed in which he replies shocks not only Tess but you as well. Your head jerks to the side to face him. His eyes go to your face, the feeling so clear in his gaze. Your heart swells at the sight of it despite everything.

“Of course you are,” Tess laughs cruelly. “Joel Miller the romantic.”

“Tess-“

“You two are just fucking around, ruining marriages and families and I’m supposed to believe this is some love story for the ages?” Tess scowls as she collapses into the chair nearest to her. “Are you fucking deluded?”

You chance a glance over at Joel to see his jaw clenched and his dark eyes far away. Part of you wants to beg Tess’s forgiveness; the other part wants to slap her for making Joel look so beaten down.

"How many others have there been?" Tess demands. You watch Joel's cheeks flame and your stomach drops at the length of time it takes him to answer. Were there others? You never even thought to ask.  

"Just her," he finally utters quietly. "Only wanted her."

You realize now his hesitancy. If there had been several you'd just be a number Tess could forget about. But as it is there is only you, which means something more. Tess turns her ire on you now, her light eyes flashing.

"How could you do this to your friend?" Tess demands of you. "Forget about me, how could you do this to Sarah? How could you break up her family?"

You feel sick to your stomach. All the minutes and hours and weeks and months you spent pining for Joel, did you ever really consider the true ramifications? Or the people you would both hurt? Or were you just so intent on having him that everything else was pushed aside?

"Tess, it wasn't her," Joel assures her. "You and I had been unhappy long before Christmas. Meeting her just... It just confirmed how I'd been feeling for months."

“We were married. We were happy.”

"Were we really happy Tess?" Joel challenges. “I wanted more kids and you didn’t.”

“She’s gonna give you kids, is that it?”

Joel ignores this question, can tell without looking over at you that there must be a stricken expression on your face.

"When you weren't at work and it was just us we barely spent time together. And when we did most of the time we'd argue."

"But there were good times," Tess defends. 

"I know," Joel nods. "S'why I didn't break things off right away."

You don't like hearing this. Hearing how Joel wasn't sure. Hearing about his life when you weren't there. It makes your face crumple when you hear it. Joel must notice because his face is turning to you.

"But I couldn't forget her."

He goes to reach for you but stops when he hears Tess give a disgusted scoff. Your arms are wrapped around your body, wishing more than anything this moment was over. But Tess isn’t finished. Not by a long shot.

“And what did Sarah have to say about this?” Tess demands. “Something tells me she wouldn’t have been thrilled to see her best friend and her father fucking.”

The dual silence of you and Joel tells her everything.

“Ohhh….She doesn’t know,” Tess says in a mock hushed tone. “Well, maybe someone should tell her.”

You watch in horror as Tess reaches for her cell phone in her purse. Your stomach lurches and you dart forward, ignoring Joel’s hand grazing your waist as you pass him.

"Tess please," you beg, hand outstretched. "You can hate me and Joel as much as you want. But please think of how telling her like this will affect Sarah.”

Tess stares at you, a sinister curl of amusement on her lips. “Like you thought about how it would affect Sarah when you started fucking her dad?”

No, you never thought of Sarah. All you thought about was your own selfish pleasure. How were you so fucking deluded to think that loving Joel would be enough? Tess is one thing – according to him their marriage was already suffering and aside from this moment you never thought you’d have to see her.

But Sarah? Sarah was innocent in all of this. Sarah your only true friend.

“I didn’t because I’m a selfish piece of shit,” you tell her firmly. “But you aren’t.”

“Oh no?” Tess is almost laughing at your solemnity.

“No,” you shake your head. “From the moment I met you, I knew you were the kind of person to do the right thing. And you know that telling Sarah about us like this is wrong. It would break her heart. Sarah doesn't deserve this. She's never done anything to you. Ever." 

“And I deserved it?” Tess challenges. “I deserved to have some little college slut fuck my husband?”

The tears are falling down, hot and steady down your warm cheeks. Because she has every right to hate you both. You did something wrong, so impossibly wrong. You shake your head lightly, trying to swallow more of the tears.

“No, you didn’t.”

You feel your cheeks burn with shame and guilt as you lower yourself to your knees, head bowed. You face her, subservient in your stance, ignoring as Joel calls your name. Your fold your hands in front of you, lacing the fingers together as if in prayer.  

“Tess I’m so so sorry for what we did. I know that an apology means nothing. It means less than nothing,” you say, debasing yourself. “I understand you hating me for the rest of your life. What we did was fucking wrong, there’s no way around that. I don’t know how to fix it. I really don’t.”

You take a deep breath and try to swallow down the cracking sobs starting in your rib cage.

“But Tess I’m begging you, please don’t tell Sarah. Sarah loves Joel so much, finding out this way would devastate her. She doesn’t deserve to pay for our fuck up. She doesn’t deserve to learn about it like this, please don’t tell Sarah. Please.”

The sobs begin in earnest and you try to swallow them down once more, your chest heaving. When you finally glance up you can see that Tess is glassy-eyed and ignoring you there on the floor.

“I wanna talk in private,” Tess says, looking at Joel. “You owe me that much.” 

You continue sitting there on the floor, tears streaming down your face until you feel Joel’s hand gently alight on your shoulder.

"Can you give us a minute?" Joel asks you. "I'll send a text."

For some reason this hurts more than anything. To know that you’re the one being asked to leave in all of this. And yet you nod, grabbing your phone from the nightstand and leaving quickly, tightening the robe around your middle. 

///

You’re sitting in the pool area, lying on one of the puffy chaise lounges. It’s been two hours of scrolling your phone and wiping away tears as you try to face away from the families splashing around in the pool. 

Joel loves you.

Sarah is going to hate you.

Joel loves you.

You keep waiting for Sarah to call you in tears, screaming at you for ruining her life. When your phone buzzes you feel your stomach jump. You raise the screen to your face with shaking fingers.

[HIM 💜]: She left.

The trudge back to the hotel room is a slow one, your heart heavy. There’s no way Joel is going to want to continue this with you. And you’ve realized now that it’s going to break your fucking heart when he ends things.

You slip past him when the door opens, trying to mask your tears. You go to the bed, looking at the rumpled sheets and your red panties strewn to the side. It doesn’t look like the bed of two people in love. It looks like the bed of two selfish people.

Joel rests a hand on the doorknob, shoulders hunched at his ears. You can see the red at the back of his neck when you look back at him.

“Is she gonna tell Sarah?”

“No.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Joel says it firmly, without question and you believe him. You want to ask him what he and Tess talked about, but at the same time you don’t want to know. You don’t want to think about how hurt she was.

And now you can’t stop thinking about Joel loving you. He loves you. Love. And you love him. This should be a time of celebration. But instead you stand there, eyes on his feet. Because love won’t be enough. He won’t want this with you, not at such a cost.

You blink back the tears and try to steady your voice.

“I guess we’re over, then?”

You make a motion between your bodies, waiting for Joel’s agreement. When several moments pass in silence you finally raise your gaze to Joel’s. He’s put a t-shirt on, but he still wears his boxers. He looks so vulnerable, despite his breadth and you can see the gloss that has begun in his dark eyes.

"Baby, come here."

Without thought you cross the room and move into his waiting embrace, arms banding around his waist. He holds you tightly to him, your head tucked under his chin. He sways you gently from side to side, his heart under your ear.

“I don’t want us to be over,” he murmurs against the crown of your head. “But I understand if this is too much for you.”

You hold him tighter, the tears no longer flowing. Being in his arms feels so safe and so right. You hate how right it feels in Joel Miller’s arms. If it felt even a tiny bit awful you could turn away, you could walk from this hotel and never give him a second thought. As it is, you feel something deep and eternal for him.

"Did you mean it? About loving me?"

Joel’s large hands move to cup your face, turning your red-rimmed eyes up to face him. He stares at you in that impossibly soft way that only Joel Miller possesses. The kind of way that spells affection in the flecks of honey in his iris, the way that shows adoration in the round of his pupils.

"Yeah," Joel whispers and suddenly he looks like a lost little boy as you stare up at him. "Is that okay?"

It takes everything in you not to cry again. You’re sick of crying. You want to remember how Joel is looking down at you now. How your hands lay against his waist, holding him. How in this moment you’ve never loved anyone more.

"Yes,” you finally whisper back. “Joel, I've loved you for so long." 

“I know,” Joel admits, his eyes glassy. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time, baby. Was just scared to admit it, I think.”

His mouth finds yours, his hand sliding to the back of your neck as you wrap your arms around his waist once more. There’s no heat in this kiss, just a deep abiding love that you sense with every soft dab of his lips against yours.

“I wanna take care of you,” Joel murmurs, kissing the corner of your mouth. "I want you to come back to Austin with me. I want you to come stay with me for the summer. Please say yes."

Your stomach jumps in both anticipation and tremendous fear. This is a huge step for the both of you. And you’re scared that Joel is offering this because of how horrible this evening was with Tess. You bring a thumb to stroke his cheek, smiling up at him gently.

“Let’s go to bed,” you say.

Joel blinks before nodding, pressing a full-lipped kiss to your mouth before taking your hand in his and leading you to the bed. The two of you are completely wiped from everything. Still wearing your robe and Joel in his boxers, the two of you collapse into bed. Joel flicks off the light and draws you to him.

“I love you,” Joel murmurs against your forehead. Your heart sings at the sound of it and your mouth curls into a soft, contented smile.

///

You wake the next morning with a strange sensation. A mixture of joy an apprehension as you open your eyes. Joel is already awake, balancing on one arm and looking at you with a gentle smile. His hair is mussed from sleep, the curls flattened on one side. That shouldn’t make your heart jump with affection, but it does.

“Was wondering when you’d wake up. You were out like a light.”

“Shit,” you say, propping yourself onto your elbows. “What time is it?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Joel soothes, brushing the hair from your eyes. “I got us a late checkout.”

“Thanks.”

Your eyes drop to the space between you on the bed. A small sliver of waved blankets that in this moment feel like a canyon. You smooth your hands over it, feeling the soft texture. Joel watches this, you can feel his eyes on you. He knows you so well.

“What are you thinkin’ about?”

“About what you asked me last night,” you admit. “About coming to Austin with you.”

Joel grows serious, taking a slow inhale. “And?”

“I’m worried you’re saying it because of everything with Tess,” you admit, fingers plucking the bed sheets absently. “And I don’t want that. I want it to be because it’s something you want, not something you feel obligated to do.”

Joel launches himself off of the bed before you can finish your thought. You watch his broad shoulders bared, his body covered in only his boxers as he knees down, rummaging for something in his suitcase.

You stare at him puzzled when he comes back with an envelope and a small square box.  He sits across from you on the bed, his large frame comically child-like in the cross-legged pose. He passes you the envelope first.

You open it, confused when you pull out a long piece of paper until you realize what you’re looking at. An airline ticket to Austin and your name in on it. Your eyes dart in surprise to Joel’s open gaze. He sits with his hands folded on his muscled thighs. He rubs the palms along them a few times before nervously swallowing.

“Wanted this for a long time,” he tells you. “Longer than I wanna admit.”

A smile breaks out over your features. This wasn’t a last minute plan to smooth over what happened last night. He wanted you to come back with him to Austin for a while. Living with him for an entire summer.

“I was gonna ask you properly last night,” he admits. “The same time I gave you this.”

Joel takes your chin in his thumb and forefinger, stroking sweetly before motioning to the box between the two of you. It's a small square box in a color you know too well: Tiffany blue wrapped in a black ribbon.  

"Open it."

You do slowly, feeling nervous with Joel's gaze on you. The ribbon drifts to the floor until all you're left with is a small square box with Tiffany & Co embossed on the front. You let your fingers trail over the grooves of the letters. 

He wouldn't propose. 

No it's too early. It's too much. You can't possibly say yes can you? No, it's insane. His divorce isn't even finalized yet. Your trembling fingers open the box, eyes widening until you see what rests inside. 

Relief floods you when you see a delicate silver chain and pendant sitting on the velvet cushion inside. It's simple; a thin x with diamonds in each of the empty spaces and the shape is unmistakable. 

A snowflake. 

It's on a slender silver chain that sparkles in the light as you remove it from the velvet cushion.

"Here, lemme put it on ya," Joel murmurs, taking the delicate jewelry in his wide fingers. You twist away from him, sliding your hair over one shoulder. You feel him fumble with it against the nape of your neck and you hold in a shiver at the sensation. 

"Perfect," be murmurs, tracing a finger along the chain.

"It's just ... This is so much, Joel. The necklace, the hotel, the massage.” Guilt gnaws at your belly.  “Did you get anything for Sarah?"

Joel's head tilts slightly as he regards you. "You're worried I didn't get anything for Sarah?"

"I guess ...” you falter. “I just ..."

"I got her a ring made from one that used to belong to her mom. I paid for her and Charlie to stay at a swanky hotel in town for the weekend," Joel promises, kissing the worry from between your brows. "Plus a few other things that ain't your business because she's my kid."

He says the last part in a jesting tone, pinching the end of your nose in his knuckles and squeezing gently a moment. Relief floods you at this admission.

 "Good."

Joel surveys you a moment, features drawn. He takes your hand in his, wide thumb tracing the back. 

"My daughter will always be my biggest priority," Joel informs you, concern trailing over his strong features. "You never have to worry about that."

"Alright."

Joel swallows. 

"But you also need to understand it, too. I need you to be okay with it, cuz that ain't changing. She's always gonna be my kid."

Adoration flows from you as you look at Joel. The difference between he and your parents rearing is so stark it fills your eyes with tears. 

"I think that's why I fell for you from the start," you admit without thinking. "Because of how well you love her."

Joel's face is pure sweetness as he looks at you. 

"But that doesn't mean you're not a priority too," he tells you with earnestness. "You're my girl."

His large palms come to either side of your jaw, tilting your mouth to his. His girl. How long did you pine over Joel Miller dreaming of a life where you're his? And now you are. Here in his arms, kissing him fiercely. 

You break apart, flushed happily. You look back at your necklace, tracing the small pendant before turning it over. Your brows knit together in confusion as you see the engraved letter on the back.

"H?"

"For Heather," Joel tells you shyly. "I just know she'd be proud of you, baby. Maybe even more than me."

And that’s it, the moment you fall so hard for Joel Miller than no one could catch you. Your heart overflows with affection for him as you launch yourself into his lap, holding him. Everything about him feels right as he pulls you against him, his breathing soft and steady.

 “I wanna come back to Austin with you Joel,” you tell him with a watery smile. “I wanna spend the summer with you.”

“Are you sure, baby?” Joel asks, concern clear in his features. “I don’t wanna pressure-“

“I’m sure,” you answer, your mouth kissing his jaw, then his lips. You pull back because there is something so engaging about Joel’s eyes. You see everything in the depths of his large, chocolate colored gaze.

"Joel... How do you just..."

"Just what?"

"See me," you say softly. You can’t find another word to describe it. All the things you’ve tried to keep hidden, the secrets, the shame, he sees it all. And he loves you through all of it.

"Same way you see me," Joel offers. 

Joel's eyes are so impossibly soft as he stares at you and when you press your mouth to his, he's so warm. You’re convinced that if you cut your veins they would bleed the color of Joel’s eyes, that your heart is wrapped up in his flesh, that you are a part of him and he’s a part of you.

"Make love to me," you whisper against his lips.

You don't know that it's possible considering all that’s gone on in the last twenty four hours. But you need to feel him inside you right now; you need to be as physically close as two people can be. 

"Of course," Joel murmurs back his nose gently tracing yours. "Whatever my girl wants." 

Any fears that he won't be able to perform are allayed when he brings your thigh over his and you feel his hardened cock at your entrance. You both shimmy out of your under things, kicking them onto the hotel floor. He removes the robe from your body and on his side he holds you, thumb rubbing the plush of your hips. He urges your thigh over his hip and then he slides into you slowly, both of you gasping softly at the sensation of his cock and your cunt meeting in pleasure.

“I love you so much sweet girl,” he tells you. “So much.”

“I love you too,” you whisper, eyes locked on his. “I've never really been in love before." 

And it's true, you realize as Joel slowly and sweetly makes love to you that you've never actually loved anyone. You thought you loved Conrad but that was an infatuation. He never saw you like Joel does. He never held you like Joel is holding you now.

He holds you like a cherished artwork, like something precious. Like you’re worth something, even though your whole life you’ve been told the opposite.

His mouth goes to your neck, kissing and licking there as you whimper against him. He gently moves you onto your back and you let him take control of the motion. Your hands lace in Joel’s at the side of your head, holding you in place, his body sliding along yours.  

"Gonna hold you like this every day in Austin," Joel breathes as he continues to slowly thrust into you deeply from this angle. "Gonna cook for you. Gonna take you on dates. I’m gonna take care of you."

"I want that too," you breathe, mouth over his, swallowing his cries. "Wanna be with you so much, Joel.”

He notices your eyes closed tightly, body rocking gently against his. He lets this happen a few moments, watching as your body begins to flush and your brows saddle. But soon he feels himself approaching his climax and he needs your gaze.

"Eyes open for me, pretty girl," he murmurs and your eyes crack open at his request.

The two of you stare deeply into one another's eyes, the moment heavy. You can see Joel's mouth starting to quiver as he breathes, something he does when he's about to come. He holds you tighter to him and neither of you can look away when your climaxes overtakes you.

He spills into you while crying out your name, you follow soon after with his name half-uttered before your groans of pleasure become too much. You both stay like this a moment, he soft but still buried within you. You kiss fiercely, desire flooding you both at the knowledge that this is only the beginning.

“Better get you to the dorm,” Joel offers. “Gotta pack for Austin… As long as that’s still something you want?”

You see the indecision in his eyes, the continued concern that he’s forcing you into something you don’t want. You hum a soothing noise before you press a palm to his whiskery cheek, watching him go from nervous to calm at your touch.

“I can’t wait.”

-----------

taglist:

@fanficaddictmwah @southernbe @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @604to647 @ashleyfilm @survivingandenduring @weirdoneattheparty @lilipads @cinnamongorll @katiexpunk @emotrash1 @booksaremyfood @mellymbee @ashleyfilm @magpiepills @sptbear @getitoutofmymind

#joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #dad joel miller #joel miller #pedro pascal #fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #fanfiction #smut #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #joel x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel tlou #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fic #joel miller tlou #soft!joel #soft!joel miller

[togrowoldinv]

Spring Break

College!Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

When Yelena invites you on a trip, your relationship with Natasha becomes harder to hide from her

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Lots of teasing, cursing, oral, also some soft moments

Note: I’m back with more college Nat! Check out Sweetheart for some backstory here. Follow my library blog for fic updates! Enjoy!

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist

“Natasha,” you say breathlessly as the woman pulls at your hips to bring your center closer to her face. She hums against you as you continue to get close.

But then you’re interrupted.

“I’m home!” Yelena’s voice rings out from the living room.

"Fuck, she wasn’t supposed to be home yet,” you say while frantically trying to get off Natasha.

“No, not so fast,” Natasha says. She pulls your hips back down. “Just stay quiet. You’re going to come for me, sweetheart.”

“Nat, she could come in and-“ you’re cut off by Natasha’s tongue on you again. She works quickly and you bite your lip as you come for her.

“Good girl,” Natasha says quietly as she lets go of your waist.

You hear footsteps approaching your room and Natasha sits up to kiss you before she grabs her clothes and sneaks into your closet. You slip your clothes on quickly.

She shuts the door right as her sister enters your room.

“Hey y/n,” Yelena greets you. She walks right in and sits at your desk.

“Hey, what’s up?” You try act casual.

“So, I’m booking a trip for spring break,” she begins. “And I want you to come with us.”

“Us meaning you and Kate?” You ask even though you know the answer. She nods. “I don’t know Yelena. Third wheeling isn’t so fun.”

“So you’re going to just sit here all week? Come on, please! It’ll be so fun,” Yelena begs you. She gives you her best puppy dog eyes and pout.

“Fine,” you agree. “How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing at all. Kate’s mom is rich, so it’s basically free except for food and drinks.”

You give her a stunned look and she only shrugs.

“We leave Friday!” She says as she walks out of your room.

You shut the door and Natasha comes out of your closet.

“So I guess you heard I’ll be gone next week,” you say with a sigh.

“Why aren’t you excited?” She asks, sitting on your bed next to you.

“I just kind of hate third wheeling with them. And she doesn’t know about us so it’s like I can’t really say no,” you explain.

“I see,” Natasha says. She wraps an arm around your shoulder and you lean into her. You’ve found that you love the soft moments with her just as much as the sex with her.

“I’ll miss you,” you say. And it’s true. You’ve gotten used to sneaking around and seeing Nat almost everyday since that party where you hooked up.

“I’ll miss you too, baby. It’ll be okay,” she assures you. “I’ve got class in the morning, so I should probably get going. Is that alright?”

“Of course, yeah. I’ll talk to you later?”

“Absolutely.”

Natasha kisses you once more before you check to make sure the coast is clear and then she leaves your room and apartment.

The days leading up to the trip go by quickly and before you know it you’re packed and in the car to the airport.

“We are just making one more stop and then to the airport,” Kate tells the driver.

You have no idea what that stop could be, but when you arrive at a familiar apartment your heart beats faster.

Your gut feeling is confirmed when the redhead slips into the seat next to you.

“Hey,” Natasha says simply, a smirk that only you understand is on her face.

Yelena moves out of her seat and hugs her sister. “I’m so glad you could come!”

“Me too,” Nat says. “It’ll be nice to catch up and relax.”

The ride to the airport feels long and intense with the way Natasha’s thigh brushes against yours. When you get into the plane, you can’t all four sit together so you split up into twos. Obviously, you and Natasha end up together.

“How are you here?” You ask her. The loudness of the plane and being a few rows away from Yelena and Kate allows for you to talk like this.

“Yelena asked me,” Nat says.

“Why? Do you think she knows?”

“I don’t, no. I think she just wanted me to go. I don’t know.”

You accept that answer is the best you’re going to get.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. It’ll be fun,” Natasha says, slipping her hand into yours. “Think about the fact that I packed my best red bikini.”

Your eyes go wide and Nat chuckles. She likes how easily she can get you flustered.

She holds your hand for the entirety of the flight.

By the time you get to the resort, everyone turns in for an early night. Kate and Yelena go to one room while you and Nat take the other.

“See I told you this would be fun,” Nat says as she slips into bed next to you.

“I guess. But I’m still worried she’s going to find out.”

“Let me ease some of those worries,” she says. Her hand brushes your over the skin of your arm.

“Nat, we can’t do that here,” you say.

“Why?”

“We just- we need to keep it chill this week.”

“Alright,” she agrees. “Chill.”

Something about the tone of her voice and the way she kisses your cheek before she turns over to go to sleep tells you that she won’t be making this week easy.

On the beach the next day, your worries are confirmed as Nat strolls past you in a red bikini. Thank goodness you have sunglasses on or Yelena and Kate would see your eyes unashamedly all over Natasha’s body.

“Did everyone put on sunscreen?” Her voice breaks you from your stare.

“Yes mom,” Yelena answers her sister, rolling her eyes in the process. She goes back to her conversation with Kate.

“Y/n?” Nat asks.

“Um, no I didn’t. But I’ll be fine,” you say.

“You’ll get burnt, sweetheart. Let me put some on you,” she says with a smirk on her face.

She doesn’t give you a chance to argue before she’s in front of you with a bottle in her hands.

“We’re going to the water,” Kate announces before her and Yelena walk off hand in hand.

Natasha gestures for you to stand up. You do so and she slips into your chair. She pats the space in between her legs.

“Come on, it’s just sunscreen,” she teases you. You sit on the chair between her legs, trying to ignore the way her her hands are immediately on your hips.

She puts the lotion in her hands and begins applying it to your back. Nat takes her time as she does so. Her hands drift down further and over to your thighs. Deft fingers run over your inner thighs.

“Natasha,” you practically moan.

“You like that, baby?” She asks. Her mouth is next to your ear. You nod and she pulls her hands away. You let out a small whimper. “Don’t do that, sweetheart. You said we were keeping it chill this week.”

Her lips ghost over the back of your neck as she taps your hips for you to stand up. She puts the bottle away and walks towards the waves, leaving you there speechless.

And that’s what she does for the entirety of the next few days. Never missing an opportunity to tease you, she keeps you flustered.

On the final full day, you’re laying out in the sun when Natasha comes up to you. She’s been in the water and her skin glistens with water droplets. She takes her hair down and shakes it out. The water hits your body.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you wet,” Natasha says. Her words and the look on her face is enough to make you wet, and not from the ocean water.

You stand up and excuse yourself back to the resort. Trying to cool down, you get a water from the fridge. When you close the door, Natasha is standing on the other side of it.

“Fuck! You scared me,” you say.

“Sorry,” she chuckles. She hops on the counter. “You’re not playing it very chill by the way.”

“Me? Says the one who is teasing me!”

Natasha laughs and reaches her hands out for you. You look towards the door and back to Nat. You really do miss being in her arms.

Taking her hands, you step between her legs.

“What’s the harm in not keeping it chill just once?” Nat asks. “Besides I did actually make you wet, didn’t I?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?” She asks, her fingers hover over the waistband of your bathing suit.

“Yes daddy.”

“There we go, baby.”

Natasha slips her fingers into your suit bottoms and runs them over your slick folds. She smirks at how wet you really are. Slipping then down your legs, she gets off the counter and is on her knees in front of you.

“Oh fuck,” you say as her mouth gets work quickly. You reach for the counter in front of you so you don’t lose your footing. She makes you weak in the knees.

“Be good for me, baby,” she says with a sternness to her voice. Her hands grip the back of your thighs tightly.

You’re so into it that you don’t notice the door opening. But you do hear it close. So does Natasha. She stops eating you out and stands up abruptly.

“Was it Yelena?” She asks.

“I don’t know,” you say. “Oh god, I don’t know.”

You start to pace the kitchen in a panic. Nat hands you your suit bottoms before she goes to the door to see if she can tell who it was. She has no luck.

“Okay relax, baby. If it was Yelena, she would’ve said something. Maybe it was housekeeping or something?” Natasha tries to ease your worries.

“Or it was Kate who will immediately tell Yelena,” you say.

“Let’s just not worry about it, okay? We’ll get cleaned up and get ready for dinner.”

“Okay.”

“Hey, I’ve got you,” she says, taking your face in her hands. She kisses your forehead gently.

It’s not long before Yelena and Kate are back and getting ready for dinner as well. The four of you walk to the restaurant and everything appears to be going smoothly.

Until during dinner when Yelena turns to Kate and asks, “Are you okay? You’ve been quiet all night.”

“Oh yeah, I’m good. It’s just- never mind,” Kate replies. Her eyes bounce between you and Nat. Your pace quickens.

“What is it, babe?” Yelena pushes.

“I saw something,” Kate blurts out. Yelena raises a brow, prompting her to continue. “It was Natasha and y/n they were-“

“We’re dating,” Natasha interrupts Kate. “We have been dating for about a month.”

“Oh,” is Yelena’s only response.

You jump in. “We were going to tell you.”

“Excuse me,” Yelena leaves the table.

Your eyes tear up as you worry about how she reacted and if she will still be your best friend.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Nat says. “Stay with Kate. I’m going to go talk to her.” She rubs her hand on your back before she leaves the table.

“I’m sorry,” Kate says. “I just felt like I had to tell her.”

“It’s alright,” you say.

Meanwhile, Natasha finds Yelena back up in the room.

“Why?” Yelena speaks first. “Why my best friend?”

“Because she’s everything to me,” Natasha replies. “When I’m with her, I just feel at home.”

Yelena sees the truth in Natasha’s eyes. She’s never seen her like this before.

“You’re not just hooking up with her?”

“No,” Nat says. “It started the first time that way, but really it was more than that by the time we finished. Yelena, I promise, I’m not going to hurt her.”

Yelena crosses the room and takes her sister into her arms. For so long, they’ve only had each other. And now they both have you.

“Can we go back to dinner?” Natasha asks, holding her little sister tight.

“Yeah,” Yelena says. “Just promise me that nothing with us will change because of this.”

“I promise, sestra,” Natasha says.

The two walk back to the restaurant and Yelena walks ahead to get to you first. She hugs you from behind.

“Don’t hurt my sister,” she says.

“I won’t, I promise.”

“I know,” she says. “Also, don’t tell me anything about your sex life. Got it?”

You laugh at that. “Got it, Yel. I love you.”

“Love you too,” Yelena says. She goes back to her side of the table and Nat sits next to you again.

“We’re okay?” You ask her.

“We’re okay, sweetheart.”

Natasha reaches for your hand underneath the table. With the feeling of her hand in yours, love radiates between the two of you.

And everything feels right.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff #college!natasha

[lettersofgold]

prompt 6 with jude?? thank u!!

-> better late than never | jude bellingham

visuals

the holidays were very stressful for you. however, with jude as your boyfriend, you felt that the stress couldn't touch the absolute fear running through your body. this was the first time that your new beau was to meet your family, and he was late. your aunts and uncles were eagerly waiting to meet him, and they made it clear that they would grill him just like any other boy you had dated. this was terrifying for you and off-putting for the boys who had experienced it before. the number of people inside your childhood home was potentially a safety hazard, but that's how your family operated: large, boisterous, and fun. with every passing moment, you became increasingly convinced that Jude had overslept. jobe hadn't seen or heard from him, and you couldn't get hold of him on his phone. although it wasn't a dire situation that he was running late, you wanted jude to arrive before the rest of the family, who were sure to smother him. now, it would be a full-on ambush as soon as he stepped through the door.

jude has finally arrived, and you hurried to greet him. you really loved him and wanted your family to feel the same way. you hoped that he would also love your family and that they wouldn't come on too strong and scare him off. as he got out of the Uber and waved goodbye to the driver who shouted a "hala madrid" with a friendly smile, you noticed that his hands were full. this confused you because you didn't ask him to bring anything. you stood there with your arms crossed and a furrowed brow, trying to hold back your growing frustration.

“jude, you’re late.” you deadpanned. you wanted to make this as smooth as a family meeting a new boyfriend could be, but it was becoming hard. his status was one thing that everyone was concerned about, but now him seemingly showing up whenever he wanted didn’t come off on the best foot.

“i know, i know, ‘m so sorry.” jude pleaded, his big brown eyes were doing that thing that made you weak in the knees. he looked so apologetic that you couldn’t continue to give him the cold shower. “it’s been a shit show. left my wallet at home when i went to grab these from the store, then halfway through the uber back home, my phone died, and then-“

“hold on, breathe, and give me that.” you took one of the bags out of his hand and peered inside. various deserts filled the bag, as well as a few other unidentified goodies. he was still rambling. you surveyed your boyfriend in his frazzled state, and all you could do was laugh inwardly. the sight of your tall and handsome boyfriend, standing at 6'1", wearing his stylish cardigan while juggling multiple items in his hand and trying to keep his phone from slipping out of his grasp, was truly endearing and charming watch.

“- and I wasn’t sure what kind of flowers your mom would like, so i’ve got three of them, which i think will be okay, but if she doesn’t, then i’ll send more, and i remember your dad saying he likes this particular whiskey. i don’t know if i actually grabbed the right one. mum said it was the thought that counts, right? but i don’t want it to be wrong! this is my first time, and my shirt is wrinkled, and i know I’m late, and i feel bad.” jude paused for a moment, looking up at the sky as he exhaled deeply. his face was flushed, and it was clear that he was nervous.

“and i know you’re probably mad at me, but will a kiss help my case?” jude asked in his state of desperation.“babe,” you placed the items on the ground before pulling him close to you. you felt him exhale as he rested his head on your shoulder. “i’m not mad.”’

“you sure?” “positive.” you laughed lightly.

“i cannot lie…i’m terrified.” he admitted quietly.

“it’s gonna be fine.” you assured him while rubbing his back. “they’re going to bully you a bit…especially my uncle, who’s a barca fan, but they will love you, i promise.” he lifted his head, laughing at the bags that separated you before nodding in agreement.

“bit too much?” he laughed.

“just a bit. but it’s okay.” youu gave him a deep and reassuring kiss on your toes, which he eagerly returned.

"hey," your uncle shouted from the front door, and Jude quickly moved away, looking like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. you didn't need to turn around to know it was your uncle who favored barca. the rest of your family was in the living room, engaged in a heated debate over a card game that everyone was convinced was rigged .“ya just gonna make out all night?”

“no sir, sorry.” jude stumbled, but you quickly grabbed the rest of the bags and looped your arms through his, guiding him towards the door. as you approached, jude grew tense, sensing your uncle's disapproving gaze. you allowed Jude to walk in front of you, and as he did, your uncle grabbed the bags out of his hands and pulled him in for a bro-hug. with a loud announcement, your uncle welcomed Jude into the house. “golden boy’s here.” and the commotion began.

#football fanfic #football fic #football one shot #lettersofgold blurb #jude bellingham drabble #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham

[wheatnoodle]

i love you, evangeline

og post | p1 | p2 | p3 | p4 | p5

~🌷🌻~

“so,” dustin says around a mouthful of french toast that has him spewing crumbs everywhere, “can i ask about…y’know…you becoming…you?”

“yeah, sure. ask away. we didn’t do secrets before this,” evie freezes briefly as she grabs a napkin to give him. her face cringes slightly. “sorry about that, by the way.”

dustin flaps the napkin to wave her worry off. “dude, you could literally get killed if you tell the wrong person.”

“way to remind us,” robin rolls her eyes over her coffee mug.

“anyways!” evie cuts in with a clap of her hands. “your questions?”

“oh! right. i wrote them down,” dustin says and pulls out his phone to open his notes.

“he wrote them down,” robin repeats sarcastically under her breath, earning a snort from evie and a glare from dustin that has her raising her hands in surrender.

dustin takes a sip of his orange juice and clears his throat. “okay. did you know before you left hawkins? how did you figure it out?”

“yeah, i knew before i left. i think right around when the whole…vecna thing happened was when i really understood what was up,” evie nods thoughtfully, “like, i always felt…different? or just lost, i guess. and then with starting to find words to put to my feelings, like transgender and dysphoria, it started to feel like maybe i wasn’t so weird. robin and i went shopping and tried on like skirts and stuff and that was wild. and then i started thinking about all the girls i had dated and what that meant, and honestly, i think i wanted to be them rather than be with them.”

“so if you didn’t want to be with them, are you gay? or…i guess straight? like you like dudes?” dustin asks, his brows drawn as he listens.

“y’know, i haven’t really thought too much about it but…yeah,” she shrugs. “i guess i’d say i’m straight since i like men.”

“cool,” he nods with a smile. “damn, so even as a girl, you and robin still won’t date.”

“oh dude, i was struggling helping her out with everything after her boob job. i swear, i was no better than a man,” robin says across the table.

“she wore an ace bandage as a blind fold,” evie laughs, tossing her head back. dustin giggles as he watches robin pick up the newspaper to smack evie with, her cheeks bright red.

“is it only robin and now me who knows?” he continues along with his questioning.

“you two and my dad’s secretary since he didn’t feel like answering the phone. she congratulated me, by the way,” evie smirks at the end. just picturing her dad’s face if he were to hear the news. the rage, the steam coming from his ears. screams that could be heard blocks away as he throws another lamp. and his loyal secretary of 8 years has already congratulated his daughter and told her how happy she is for her. robin high fives her every time she gets to mention it.

“damn! i cant imagine how much that took for you to cal him. nice work,” dustin smiles proudly. “would you ever want to tell more people from hawkins?”

she’s silent for a minute. it’s something she didn’t think she’d ever consider doing. and yet, she can’t outright say no.

“i think so. someday. i hope.”

“i could…ease them into the idea so it’s less of a shock? just like…gauge where everyone’s head is at in regards to transgender individuals, give you two updates, see where to go from there?” dustin suggests with a shrug. robin’s brows raise under bangs. now that’s an idea she hasn’t had yet.

“that sounds…good,” evie nods confidently after a second, a new smile blooming on her face. robin cheers from her seat and throws her arms in the air. “just be subtle! don’t walk in all ‘hey guys, how do you feel about hypermasculine jocks from small towns turning into women who wanna be barbie?’.”

“oh no, you stole my plan word for word,” dustin rolls his eyes. “no shit i’ll be subtle. it’s a shame a side effect of estrogen isn’t intelligence.”

“don’t forget i’m hosting you,” evie warns with a pointed finger.

“yes, mom,” he sighs heavily, “okay, you can stop me if this is too far. you said you got your boobs done, did you get…like…the surgery? like the surgery?”

“not too far, honestly. yeah, i got it about…a year ago, actually! ahh happy birthday to me!” evie claps excitedly.

“does it work?”

“DUSTIN!”

~

“i just don’t get why he hasn’t said anything. he said he would update us what she’s like, i mean c’mon, he’s the first one invited over! the first one allowed over! he promised to text when he got there, what if something happened? did everyone die? him and robin are silent! nobody answers their texts!”

“eddie! will you please just stop? dustin is fine and i am sure he isn’t wooing your fairy princess, love of your life, big stupid crush, ms evangeline,” gareth groans. he’s laying upside down on the couch in his and eddie’s apartment, curls dangling to the ground. it’s been forever of listening to eddie gush about robin’s roommate and now it’s just even worse with dustin staying with them. the least eddie could do is stop pacing in front of him, he’s making him motion sick watching his legs go back and forth.

finally, eddie flips down next to him with a heavy sigh. he takes a long swig of his beer, effectively draining half of it down his throat, before just staring at the ceiling.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry. you’re right. everything’s fine. plus, it’d be pretty fucked of him to go flirt with her when i called dibs.”

“you can’t dibs a woman-“

“yeah, yeah, shut up.” eddie lightly kicks at gareth’s shoulder. he sighs again, his finger fiddling with the wrapper on his beer bottle. “…do you think he’s mentioned me?”

“that’s it, i need a knife.”

~🌷🌻~

taggie waggies:

@lololol-1234 @xo-r4e @paintsplatteredandimperfect @homohomohoe @charlies-candid-corner @tartarusfairy @howincrediblysapphicofyou @steddie-as-they-go @bestwifehaver @sexymothmanincarnate @zoeweee @romanticdestruction @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @breadboi66 @shadowofaliar @mollymawkwrites @lofaewrites @estrellami-1 @ronance-is-my-wife @afewproblems @heartsong18 @discount-izukumidoriya @mightbeasleep @bookbinderbitch @justforthedead89 @onehandedbitch @anxiouseds @sunfloweringstories @cyranyx @thegingerrapunzel @hequet @herebedragons404 @magpiemuseum @scheodingers-muppet @the-ghost-in-your-curtains @background-noise-headache @steddieloverrr @punctualhowell @musical-theatre-gay @its-a-me-a-morgan @chronically-stupid-human @stevesbipanic @says-swag-unironically

#stranger things #steve harrington #robin buckley #dustin henderson #eddie munson #stobin #stobin fanfic #stobin fic #platonic soulmates stobin #platonic stobin #codependent stobin #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington au #modern steve harrington #modern stobin #modern steddie #pre steddie #steddie fic #trans steve harrington #trans!steve #trans!steve harrington #trans steve #transfem steve harrington #transfem!steve harrington #fem steve harrington #fem steve #fem!steve harrington #evie harrington #evangeline harrington

[dezznuggz]

The Parents of the Friend group. |Part 1

Steve Harrington × reader

~the party already knows about yours and Steve's relationship and even before you and Steve got together, they made it pretty clear that Steve is the mom and you're the dad. Plain and simple

Warning: playfully bullying Steve, mentions of season 2, mentions of the upside down, reader pronouns she/her, y/n used a couple times

--------------------------------∆----------------------------

With everything that the party member went through at a young age, you and Steve always cared and protected them with any chance y'all get. With that being said, Steve made it a monthly thing to have the kids (including Robin and Eddie) sleepover for at least a night just so they can enjoy themselves young and to also ease Steve's paranoia of not knowing when another type of monster will appear out of the blue. You didn't have a problem with the idea of course mostly since you loved the kids as if they were your own kids but it gets tiring after a while, mostly when it's in your own home.

Tossing and turning in bed while hearing loud chatters in the distance. Moving around to grab a hold of Steve and hopefully cuddle back to sleep but you feel the other side of the bed empty.

Is it the 24th already?

Groggily getting out of bed still half asleep and walking to the bathroom to freshen up and get ready for one hell of a day. After wearing something more appropriate and becoming wide awake, you mentally prepare yourself to walk out into the chaos. When you open the door, everything suddenly becomes clearer and louder. You see Erica and Dustin arguing about what channel to put on. Max and Robin are practically attacking Lucas for his poor taste in comics. Eddie, Mike, and Will try explaining d&d to El (who clearly is not interested). Then you see the main person that you wanted to spend your morning with, but they were clearly occupied and busy. Already heading to the kitchen to your lover to say good morning while giving a peck on the lips.

"Every month...every month, I don't even know why I'm surprised anymore" you say while looking at the hoard of people in the living room talking over each other. "I swear they're little geniuses but when it comes to being on time, they're rather late or too early and today is one of those days." Steve says while mixing a bowl of pancakes batter. "Remember you wanted this, so you can't fully blame them." You say while warming up a cup of coffee, "oh no no no, you can't partially blame me for this, don't act as if you didnt want them around either" Steve says while looking from the pancake batter then to you with a small smile. Okay maybe you also found comfort in having the kids around including Robin and Eddie, it feels more home warming but it's the mess they leave after. "Well...I'm not sure what I can say to that other than calling dibs to drop off the kids" you say frantically before leaving the kitchen and into the living room while hearing Steve trying to call you back in the kitchen.

Once you step in the living room, you weren't sure if you wanted to go back and continue the conversation that you just had with Steve or try to at least have the kids calm down and lower their voices. "Jesus I don't know how you deal with this nerd, all he does is shove facts down your throat!" Erica practically yells at you before walking away from Dustin who is hot on her tail. "Oh IM THE NERD, you practically have the whole pony lore merged in your girly little brain" Dustin yells back at Erica while also passing by you and saying a quiet good morning (which you say good morning back).

"okay well let's leave that to Steve.." you say under your breath before walking to the little closet room in yours and Steve's house to pull out blankets and more pillows already preparing for tonight and maybe for a game that will last till night out. "Hey!" Will said pretty loudly in your ear which had you flinching a little, "Oh my God, what happened, I thought you were with Eddie and Mike? Did you forget your toothbrush again? Or was it your underwear again? You know Steve doesn't really mind besides he barley knows." You ramble and ask multiple questions to Will and whispering the last part knowing that it happened once and he trusted in only telling you. "WHAT no I'm fine, everything's fine, I just wanted to help out a little you know since it's the least we can do" Will says in a soft tone. "Oh no it's okay honey... Well you know what, maybe a little help wouldn't hurt right?" You say hesitantly, knowing how Steve gets when the kids actually help around. He tends to take control but not in a mean way more of a 'just rest my child and I'll take care of you' typa way. "Okay I need you to carry this... And this, and hold this one for me please....oh can't forget Max's..." You say while stacking pillows and blankets in Will's arms which slowly starts piling up to the point that his face is no longer able to be seen.

"is that it?..." Will asks while trying to peep his head out a little just to see if there are any more blankets, "umm....no you know what that's about it, good job buddy" you say before patting Will's shoulder indicating that he should follow you. Both you and Will walk to the living room to find everyone gone then you hear a faint voice counting. "Okay that's 2,4,6,8....8?" Steve says after counting heads to make sure everyone was sat at the table ready to eat although with so much noise and talking going around he can't seem to know if he counted wrong. But just as Steve suspected, he did count wrong as 2 more people walked into the dining room. "Ah there you guys are, okay so that's 10 in total" Steve says with a relief but his cheery tone went away as he saw Will's bottom half since the other half was covered with piles of blankets and pillows. "Babe we talked about this, if you need help call me, now look what you have done to the boy, I can't even see him" Steve says dramatically. You let out a sigh as you take the pillows and blankets from Will and told him to sit down and eat, "it's fine babe he offered and I took it, it's not gonna hurt him. And besides you seemed a little busy so I didn't want to disturb you." You say trying to calm a dramatic Steve down since you always are the one to just take things with a flow while Steve is the one to control the flow.

"I'm not gonna tell you again, if you ever need help just call me over and I'll be there, okay?" Steve says while looking down at you waiting for a response, "sure." You say just to please Steve, "good, now sit down and eat before it gets cold" Steve says with a more cheery tone as he presses a kiss on your lips.

-----------------------------∆-------------------------------

"UNOOO!!" Eddie exclaims very loudly which caused the kids to groan since they know that Eddie's cheating but they just can't prove it. Everyone was currently sitting on the floor around the little coffee table in the middle of the living room. Everyone decided to play uno after a long argument on how we should play it due to Dustin being competitive and wanting a specific way to play like whether or not we can jump in or pair up with someone. Everyone told him that we're just gonna play uno for the fun of it with no arguments and no competition, which never happened. Steve and you ended up teaming up and showing each other y'all's cards, Erica started becoming aggressive towards Lucas who kept +4 her. "Is there a problem between you and me cause last time I checked, we're blood related and BLOOD RELATED PEOPLE DONT BETRAY EACHOTHER!" Erica screams in Lucas's face while Lucas laughs at her overreacting. "Woah okay Erica calm down, here take my +4 and you'll get him next time when we reverse." Steve says to Erica while passing the card across the table to Erica who simply denied it and said that she didn't want his pity. "Let her fuss it out babe, she'll get over it" you say while laughing a little since you were Erica's babysitter at some point of time, so you knew how long Erica's little tantrums would last.

As the game ended with Robin somehow winning and multiple arguments breaking out. We all went out separate ways as it was almost time for dinner. You and Steve both walk into the kitchen just to finally enjoy y'all's personal time (even though y'all live together). With you deciding that you don't wanna cook, and Steve not knowing what to cook, you both agreed to order Chinese food. It was cheap and the most agreeable among the party members. Pizza was always complicated for the party, Lucas liked olives while Robin was allergic, and El liked pineapple on hers which Eddie completely despised to be in sight of pineapple pizza. Everyone had their own pizza preference that was just too much to order all together but Chinese food is what got everyone to enjoy (although you weren't a fan of Chinese food but you'll eat it for the kids).

Steve finished the order for Chinese food that we will soon have to pick up but in the mean time it was just you and Steve. Steve and you. Both embracing and enjoying each other's company even when yall aren't doing anything but it just felt so comfortable and loving. You sat on the counter with your feet dangling and Steve between your thighs while looking up at you and admiring you as if you were an angel. "You ever think about having kids" Steve asks with a foolish grin across his face, "woah, a very unexpected question at the moment" you say giggling but slowly stopped when you saw Steve still waiting for an answer, "I don't know, maybe,...actually yeah but as long as it's your kids" you say also with a foolish grin which made Steve blush "you know I actually want 6 kids, I don't remember telling you that" Steve says looking deep in your eyes, "oh trust me I remember you specifically telling me how many and what their names would be" you exclaim while rolling your eyes playfully since you have indeed heard multiple times and it's not like your complaining, infact you loved the idea of Steve also seeing his future with you and you guys are only 20 years old. "Let's get married" Steve says with a straight face and you let out a laugh but stop and clear your throat when Steve still looks at you with a straight face, "you're serious? Okay umm listen Steve I love you, I really do and I don't even want to imagine a life without you but we're 20 and we both work at a minimum wage job that barley pays for rent." You say rambling a little, "but trust me when I tell you this, I wanna get married with you so bad and specifically only you but just not right now or at least where we're at right now" you try to say with a little bit of a cheery voice so you don't totally break Steve's heart, "I promise" you say while holding out your pinky Infront of Steve's pouty face, "okay but is it okay if we have kids before we get married?" Steve asks before he even locks both of y'all's pinkies together "whatever makes you happy babe" you tell Steve with a toothy grin knowing that it would cheer Steve up, he then locks both of y'all's pinkies together and gives you a very passionate kiss that caused you to let out a little giggle in the middle of it.

"oh dude, I thought Robin said no public pda" Mike exclaims with a face of disgust before walking and purposely bumping into Steve's back to get a cold water bottle from the fridge. "Dude we're trying our best to keep it private", Steve says in a very judging tone, "you know Mike, me and Steve have seen you and El kiss but you don't see us making a big scene, have you tried growing up a little?" You say to Mike cause this isn't the first time that you and Mike have had this conversation about pda. "if it requires me growing up and becoming anything like y'all, I'd rather stay young and immature" Mike says before walking off but not before steve tells him to watch his tone. "I'm pretty sure he just called us old in so many different ways" you say to Steve, "he just doesn't get it cause he doesn't know what REAL love is, all he knows is young love....and I'm not old, trust I'm never gonna look old either" Steve says before fixing his hair with a pouty face which you laugh at cause you know how dramatic Steve gets when it comes to his age and specifically his looks.

"oh stop whining, we all know that you're gonna get grey hairs by soon mostly with all the stress the kids keep giving you" Robin suddenly comes in the kitchen startling you both just a little. "Okay first of all shut up and don't jinx it, and second who was talking to you?" Steve says in a very sassy tone since his hair is "his best feature" so God forbid anything happens to it. You let out a breathy laugh as Robin kept adding more gas into the fire. "Oh what's so funny huh, you do know you're gonna end up with grey hairs too so we'll both look 50 in our 30s" Steve says which causes you to stop laughing and before you can say anything Robin practically speaks for you, "uh no she won't, cause the kids are scared of her so they always act right around her but with you Steve, oh boy do they give you hell. In fact I'm pretty sure they only listen to y/n" Robin says with a small smirk on her lips. "Oh that's so not true!" Steve says raising his voice a little to state that he completely disagrees with Robin, "yea it is, remember at Byers house during fall, when you know the whole incident happened." You say trying to get Steve to recall what exactly happened that night, "yea what about it?" Steve says still not remembering how that night has anything to do with what they were walking about.

--------------------------------∆----------------------------

Fall night 1984:

You and Steve were trusted to take care of the kids. It wasn't anything new to you when it came to having full responsibility of the kids. It practically came as a free side job for you since you protected the kids without any questions asked or needed. For Steve on the other hand, his first time taking care of 5 kids at once and he felt like there was so much responsibility in his hands. He just felt the need to take full control due to the fear of not being able to know what the kids are doing 24/7 at the moment.

With Mike and Lucas arguing about Mike panicking and Dustin having Steve shove a demo-dog in ms.byers fridge it all felt hectic to you but nothing that you couldn't handle. The only calm one that was there was max due to it being her first rodeo and completely confused about the whole situation. Suddenly all the kids start making up a plan on how to help El and everyone else that's heading towards the lab that's filled with deadly creatures. While hearing this plan Steve completely shuts it down. "Yea and then we all die" Steve says making it clear that he totally disapproves of their idea, "well that's one point of view" you say in a sarcastic way, "no y/n that's not one point of view, that's a fact" Steve says with an attitude mostly since you're the other adult that's supposed to help him out but isn't even backing him up. You then raise your hands in surrender and give Steve a mocking face before going back to sweeping up glass with max. Mike then walks off with everyone following right behind him, you and Max decide to forget about the glass pieces since there're definitely way more important things to focus on.

With Mike making a master plan of setting up the underground base on fire and having Dustin,max, and Lucas add onto the idea Steve finally attempts to put his foot down. "We're staying here, ON THE BENCH, and we're waiting for the starting team to do their job, does everybody understand that" Steve says in a demanding tone, "THIS ISN'T A STUPID SPORTS GAME?!" Mike complains to Steve but Steve still stood his ground "I said does everybody understand that, I need a yes.." Steve says pointing his fingers at the kids waiting for a response. "We don't need to listen to you" Mike says still annoyed at Steve, "okay you know what, that's enough...y/n control your kids" steve finally starts talking to you but all you did was respond with crossing your arms and shrugging your shoulders as a sign that there's really not much to say. "Oh seriously you're in on this too!?" Steve exclaims in a flabbergasted tone, "I don't know what to say Steve, it sounds like a really good plan". "Yea a good plan to get us killed". "We're not gonna die okay they know what they're doing!". "Yes imma let a bunch of kids guide me into saving the world, yea sure why not jump off a cliff while I'm at it!",

you and Steve bicker back and forth till you finally give in just to calm Steve down and to get him to shut up, "alright kids you heard him, this plan just might get us killed, steve and only steve thinks its best for us to stay put here" you say in a very rude tone to show that you also dont approved of steves idea, "but-" lucas wanted to say something but went completely quiet when you gave him a look to not talk back "we understand". "fine". "Sure". "Whatever" was the only response you got from the kids as they all got up from the floor but completely halted in their steps when they heard a very loud engine outside...

-----------------------------∆-------------------------------

"okay that doesn't even count, they kids were getting used to me at that time so they just don't understand how scary I can get, they listen to me. I know they do it's just y'all aren't around or y'all don't remember" Steve says still trying to defend himself which causes you and Robin to laugh at Steve's attempt. "You're right that's one of the many times that the kids listened to y/n but if you want I can go on and on and on" Robin says trying to rile Steve up and laughing through her sentence, "okay you know what I think it's time for us to pick up the food" Steve says before walking into the living room filled with many people that just seem to be in their own world, "alright who wants to come with me and get the food?.." steve says loud enough for then to hear but there still was no response given to him, you weren't even sure if they heard him. "HEY! Who wants to go with Steve and pick up the food!?" You say loudly which caused everyone's attention on you and still no response but instead everyone is looking at each other to see who's willing to volunteer and go with Steve, "no one? Okay... Dustin go with Steve" you say short and simple which caused Dustin to let out a dramatic groan, "why do I gotta go, make Mike go or max go" Dustin whines to you, "no complaints now get up and get the food. NOW!?" you reply to Dustin's complaints and say the last part loudly since you didn't see him move until you raised your voice.

You then walked up to Steve giving him a pat on the shoulder and a kiss on the cheek before walking to the bathroom. Everyone goes back to their own world again and Steve still is a little mad at the fact that the kids do only listen to you and never Steve.

-----------------------------∆-------------------------------

Everyone's back at the dining table and there is not a single moment that's silent. Everything is everywhere. Things being passed around in front of everyone, people calling other people's attention from across the table and loud laughter filling the air. It didn't bother you at all, okay maybe a little but you also don't know how else you would prefer the kids to be.

You suddenly snap out of your little thoughts when max mentions your name. "Y/n literally wears the pants of the relationship" max tells Steve, who is still flabbergasted at the fact that the kids listen to only you, "no she doesn't, I think that me and her both are equal in our relationship, right babe" Steve then turns to you asking for your input and opinion, "max we're equal there's no one that wears the pants okay...but I do have to take the lead sometimes" you say the last part quietly but not quite enough for Steve to not hear. "Okay first of all you don't take the lead ALL the time and I wouldn't even put it as you taking the lead, more like you knowing what's better" Steve says defending himself, "oh so she does take the lead I knew it" Eddie then chimes in the conversation out of nowhere, "no she doesn't are you guys even listening to what I'm saying?!" Steve says in a frantic way since he feels as if he's being attacked.

"Wait you're telling me that throughout all the shit we've been through, y/n has always been the decision maker?!" Eddie says in a shocked tone from connecting dots in his mind, "what no of course I make decisions too, you guys act as if I don't do anything!?" Steve raises his voice slightly which causes max and Eddie to laugh out loudly which also causes everyone else's conversation to cut off and wanting to know what's so funny. "We didn't say you don't do anything, we're just saying that you mostly listen to y/n. It honestly seems as if she wears the pants in the relationship" Eddie says while still laughing, this causes others who have been listening to laugh too. "I think we all made it clear that y/n wears the pants, I mean like look at them" max says while gesturing her hands toward me and Steve which causes us to look at each other up and down.

"It's like Steve is the mom and y/n is the dad can we all make that clear" Robin says and everyone else agrees with a small response. "Wait what?" You say a little confused on how the subject can change fast but not the topic which was y'all two, you and Steve being the target and center of the conversation. "Yea I mean you guys are like an old married couple that love each other, I think that's pretty obvious right?" Lucas says that also has everyone else agreeing with him. "Steve is so strict and paranoid like a mom and y/n is so chill and a floater like a dad." Mike adds to Lucas's statement that causes Erica to butt in, "Steve yells at me for not taking my shoes off when I walk in, y/n doesn't even bat an eye about it" Erica's comment left Steve flabbergasted. This had Steve more aware of how motherly he's been acting through the past years. "So I'm the lame, no fun boring mom while y/n is the cool fun dad?!?" Steve asks as if clarification to make sure that what they're saying to him is correct. "Pretty much". "Yea honestly". "if the show fits". "Yea" was the response Steve gets from the kids, "that's so not true I can be fun. Matter in fact I'm totally fun it's just not with y'all. I'm so fun that you guys wouldn't be able to handle me." Steve rants about how fun he is just to prove that he's not a boring mom but that doesn't seem to get to the kids, "that's exactly what a mom would say" Dustin then says to stop Steve from going on and on about "how fun he is", and this time it left Steve silent, infact it left the whole table silent waiting to see what else Steve has left to say but clearly he had nothing.

The silence caused you to let out a little snort of laughter which caused everyone to look at you. Seeing Steve get terrorized by a bunch of kids was too funny to hold in that Steve himself laughed. With you and Steve laughing this caused everyone else to laugh along. Everyone then went back to their regular conversation as if nothing happened.

You then looked at Steve with a cocky grin, "I'm their favorite parent" you say while smirking at him, "don't start" Steve says while rolling his eyes playfully and chuckling.

-----------------------------∆-------------------------------

With everything that has happened in the last 15 hours, the party members calmly agreed to end the day off with a movie. Robin, max, Erica, and El had the couch while everyone else had the floor. The girls wanted you to be on the couch with them but you wanted to end the day with you being in Steve's arms. "Okay everyone brushed their teeth?" Steve asks before he gets himself comfortable and sitting on the floor next to you, "yes MOM" Will says in a joking way which caused Steve to let out a huff then laugh a little. "Come on guys leave him alone, lord knows how many grey hairs you're going to give him by 30" you say in a teasing tone that caused everyone to laugh. "Oooo you're lucky I love you" Steve says after turning off all the light and putting the movie on and laying next to you.

The movie goes on for a while until everyone is out cold. All the junk they ate today completely drained them out. "You know I don't mind being the mom anymore" Steve says all of a sudden, "really? Why's that?" You say a little curious about the sudden change of opinion, "it lets me know that the kids know that I care for them even if it means I'm not fun." Steve says in a low voice trying not to wake everyone up, "I think they already know that you care for them. They just say that to get a rise out of you", you say letting out a breathy laugh that you covered with your mouth. "At least they aren't scared of me" Steve says trying to make himself feel better, "well at least they think I'm fun" you reply back in an instant to Steve's remark. "At least we're viewed as their parents" Steve says looking into your eyes with a boyish grin. "You know what, you're right, at least they look up to us" you reply back to Steve before leaning in to kiss him which Steve kissed back in an instant.

"WHY IS IT ALWAYS ME?!?!" Mike exclaims in a loud tone since he just caught you and Steve making out AGAIN.

-----------------------------∆-------------------------------

Pls don't be a silent reader and I hope u enjoyed

#steve harrington x reader #joe keery x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things #steve harrington imagine #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #robin buckley #mike wheeler #will byers #dustin henderson #eleven hopper #eddie munson #mom and dad #cute couple

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

the shroud family curse and its implications for intimacy

I was thinking about what the Shroud parents must look like under their helmets and then I started wondering how they met and fell in love 🤔 While wondering about that, I came to the realization that Mr. and Mrs. Shroud's romance must have been a complicated one.

***Spoilers for books 6 and 7 of the main story below the cut!!***

Idia’s grandmother, Aidne, was the previous director of STYX. She was succeeded by her son (Idia’s father), which implies that the Shroud blood and the curse that comes with it are from the paternal side of the family. Idia’s mom, then, is the one who married into the family. (It’s not clear at this point if those that marry into the Shroud family are also magically afflicted with the same condition, but for the purposes of this post whether it is or not isn’t relevant as my point will still stand either way.)

The Shroud curse quickly burns away any blot the individual has in their body without the typical means of recovery (ie rest and self-care). If there is no blot to incinerate then the curse will turn to consuming the magical energy of the individual themselves, which could pose a threat to their wellbeing and even their life. Because of this condition, ancestors to the Shroud family threw themselves into research on blot in STYX. This would ensure that Shroud members were always around blot that could be burned in the place of their own energy, and provided a sense of false hope for them. They believed that if they worked hard enough, they may be able to find a cure for their curse--but over time, that belief waned, and instead it seems they are all now resigned to their fate and don't try to defy it. We see this is true of the latest generation of Shrouds, as Idia was groomed to become the next director of STYX from a young age even when he disliked the idea and how his responsibilities restricted his freedom. In fact, the Shrouds in general are described as being gloomy people, and this is possibly the result of the hopeless feelings they have about their curse.

A secondary consequence of the curse is that it socially isolates members of the Shroud family from society. Idia is somewhat of a special case since we also have to consider the mental and emotional anguish he experienced following his involvement in Ortho's death. However, even disregarding this horrific tragedy, it can be inferred that the Shrouds are forced into positions which make them more alone than others. For one, their jobs seem to be very demanding and literally physically keeps them away from others (besides colleagues) since the headquarters are located in bottom of the sea. In Idia's post-OB flashback, we get dialogue which implies that he is not allowed outside very often--something which we can attribute to his being the heir to STYX. This may imply that previous Shrouds experienced similar childhoods, and this is just a continuation of the cycle. (I do want to point out here that Idia says his family used to go out to various places together when Ortho was still alive, so it's not a strict requirement that the Shrouds have zero outside interaction. They obviously do go outside the lab, but we cannot say for sure how frequently.)

More importantly, there is also an emotional and psychological component to isolation. You do not need to actually be alone in a room to be considered "isolated" from others. You could, in fact, be in a room full of people and still feel "isolated" because you haven't made any meaningful connection with them. This is what I think it must feel like to be a Shroud out in the world. You may technically be considered a part of the population, but you still don't quite fit in. For example, Idia has previously expressed worries that people will stare at his hair and recognize him as a Shroud, then ridicule his appearance and attitude. Indeed, the gloomy presence that the Shrouds give off seems to be a major deterrent for others to interact with THEM. All that time spent in physical isolation must have also had an impact on the Shrouds' ability to socialize. Idia is a strong example of this; he is an avid gamer and feels comfortable with taunting people via a screen. His face-to-face manner of speaking, meanwhile, can be incendiary and often rubs his classmates the wrong way. His father is not the exact same as him, but Mr. Shroud seems to have his own issues communicating affection and tends to describe things in a serious manner or in terms of work. Thinking about the way the curse is constructed too, there is a built-in fear that the Shrouds can never truly form long-lasting relationships with others, nor completely reveal their true selves to friends. Idia exposits as much in book 6. When Ortho tries to get his big brother to be friends with the OB boys, Idia dismisses the idea and says it won't matter in the end because they will be "sent down the river" and have their memories of those fun times completely purged. This illustrates a defeatist mindset which may be pervasive in all or most of the Shroud family: if this is going to be the fate of my loved ones, why bother getting close to anyone at all? It will just be more painful for us in the end.

SO LIKE. What was Mr. Shroud probably going through when he was seeing his then-girlfriend????? ??? ??? ??? ? ? ??? ? ?? He was probably so frustrated that he couldn't tell her anything about who he really was, and probably even more frightened that if he did ever tell the truth, he might lose her forever (via River Lethe memory wipe). And even if she still accepts him for it, then what??? Then she has to join the Shroud family, and that's basically damning her to the same mopey life he has, researching blot in the middle of nowhere until they're nothing but bones. Imagine how intense that guilt must be, knowing that you (yes, YOU) are responsible for "dragging down" your beloved into the same miserable circumstances that you're in. Not only that, but surely then you'd also have to tell your S/O that any children you conceive together will have the exact same destiny in STYX. It's not just Mr. Shroud either, it must be generations of Shrouds going through this same thing.

But, but, but!! In spite of his fear, Mrs. Shroud must have said yes because she truly loves him with all her heart… Their relationship must be built on such a strong foundation of trust and loyalty 😭 (From here, this is all speculation/headcanon/me rotting about the Hades-and-Persephone-esque romance I picture Idia's parents having. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.) I don't think that Mr. Shroud would be the one to initiate or to be affectionate. At most, maybe he had a shy sort of crush on her. More likely it was Mrs. Shroud that first expressed a romantic interest and passionately pursued him. And then maybe over time his feelings blossomed but he was still too afraid to put this massive burden on her shoulders, knowing the responsibility he bears as the future director of STYX... BUT HE HAS ALSO BECOME TOO ATTACHED TO HER TO CUT HER OUT OF HIS LIFE COMEPLETELY... Her very presence is screwing with his usual sense of cool, calculated logic 💀

AND WHAT ABOUT "THE TALK" THEY'D HAVE TO HAVE TO FULLY DISCLOSE EVERYTHING???? HOW MUCH MR. SHROUD MUST'VE BEEN SWEATING WAITING FOR HER ANSWER????? ?? ?? ? ? ? Oh, Sevens. Now I've done it. Here comes the moment where he gets dumped and his mom sends in a whole squadron of men to kidnap his girlfriend and clean her brain up. But NO 😭 Instead Mrs. Shroud just clasps his hands and insists that they should get married so he'll never have to wallow in those miserable thoughts all alone... He's confused and keeps begging her to reconsider, because this decision will inevitably throw her entire life off course.

"Are you sure about this? If you say yes to me, your fate will be sealed. You can never turn back. Your life will be sworn to the Isle of Woe." "Yup, I've never been more sure of anything in my whole life! Let's burn in the Underworld together, darling <3"

She provides a response that’s so easy and devil-may-care that he doesn’t know what to say back, so he just quietly laughs… and slowly those quiet laughs morph into quiet sobs… (like how flashback!Idia transitioned from laughing to crying when he was bragging about how indestructible the “new” Ortho is 😈 LIKE FATHER, LIKE SON—)

Idia drops this line during his extended post-OB flashback: "So it's romantic when a hero rescues his ladylove from the Underworld, but when I do the same for my brother it's wrong?" WHAT IF THAT WAS TRUE, BUT WITH THE GENDER ROLES REVERSED, FOR HIS PARENTS???? ?? ? ?? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?? Mrs. Shroud willing to literally throw herself into the Underworld to "save" Mr. Shroud... like how Persephone was willing to stay there with Hades... 🙃 I'LL EAT THAT SHIT UP, JUST DROP THE "HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER" UPDATE OF TWST, DEVS..... . . . .. ..... . . .. . .. . . . . . . .. .... . . .. . . .... . . .. . . . .

Okay, I'm done screaming and sobbing at the wall for now--.

#twst #twisted wonderland theories #twisted wonderland theory #twisted wonderland #Idia Shroud #Ortho Shroud #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #Hades #Persephone #spoilers #notes from the writing raven #angst #twst theory #twst theories #yes I can and I WILL make everything sad/j

[nobodyfamousposts]

Why Scarlet Lady Is Better Than Canon: Lila Rossi

I had mentioned before at length regarding my distaste, dislike, and dissatisfaction with the character of Lila Rossi in Miraculous Ladybug canon. A character so horrible, so poorly written, and so two dimensional that I did not think it was possible to make any iteration of her I wouldn’t dislike.

And yet it seems @zoe-oneesama has come through for me yet again in Scarlet Lady by taking what was quite possibly one of my biggest issues and most despised characters within canon and with only a few changes, turning her into something enjoyable. Dare I even say…likable.

More than that, even. It says something when my least favorite character in Miraculous Ladybug canon can somehow become one of my top favorite characters in a different variation of it. 

It’s because Zoe shows an understanding of the characters and what makes them engaging, and other than SL Adrien, it shows the most in the form of SL Lila.

See, Canon Lila Rossi is a selfish, manipulative, egotistical, petty, and self-centered liar.

Scarlet Lady Lila Rossi, on the other hand, is a selfish, manipulative, egotistical, petty, and self-centered liar.

Now I’m sure all of you are looking at those two sentences and noting that they’re the same thing. And you are right. That’s the point! Because the difference between the two versions isn’t who Lila is but rather in how the narrative and writing treat her and what Lila ends up doing because of it. And it’s why Scarlet Lady is superior in its handling of Lila.

Lila in Scarlet Lady is not a good person. Nor does she become a good person. She admits that she lies for fun and just to see how far she can take it. She’s fully on board with continuing her lies and trying to fool her mom and the school to get away with staying out of school for a year. This is all in lines with regular Canon Lila and shows that they are still the same person, it’s just the events and situation and narrative that differentiate them. It’s in how the Scarlet Lady story handles Lila and her character.

For the sake of convenience, I'm going to be using Scarlet Lady to refer to the comic itself and Scar to refer to Chloe's hero identity specifically.

Let’s review and compare Lila in Scarlet Lady to canon:

1. Lila in Scarlet Lady is NOT a plot device. 

She doesn’t need to be. It’s clear that the plot is and has been moving forward on its own without her. Even if Lila were to have been removed from Scarlet Lady altogether, it’s pretty evident from everything else that’s been happening that we would still be getting to some plots and story points without too much difference or delay.

Scarlet Lady has a natural progression. The story and characters aren’t so rooted in the status quo that sudden additional character like Lila or Felix are necessary to throw in just to move things along. And Lila isn’t simply forgotten about when she’s not needed to do so. She doesn’t vanish without an explanation only to return also without explanation just to be able to force the plot to move.

Events within a story can be dependent on the characters, but the plot itself should not be dependent on what feels like a third party to show up and force things to happen when they should already be happening. That speaks of bad writing.

Canon Lila existed for the purpose of getting the Grimoire into Marinette’s hands so she could be the one to take it to Fu and learn about the Guardian and Miraculous secrets, as well as to be a future helper to Hawk Moth. Up until that point, the plot had done nothing with Fu and had done nothing to move things forward in learning about the Miraculous or why Hawk Moth would want the specific two. And after Volpina, the episodes that feature Lila are the ones that display more plot progression or involve Hawk Moth having layers to his plans. Lila only appears when she’s to be used to further a plot, then disappears until needed again.

In Scarlet Lady, by the time Lila appears, it’s already clear to Adrien, Plagg, and Fu that Scar is a horrible person and that she had no business being a hero. It’s also clear that Adrien is handling the hero work on his own and needs help. This is part of what causes Adrien to know that Lila is a liar and call her out on his own because in addition to Lila stealing his book, he already knows Scar well enough to know Lila’s story of Scar saving her would never happen. Lila isn’t the reason they find this out, nor is she the reason that the book is discovered and gets to the Guardian because Plagg chooses for himself to take Adrien to Fu. And afterwards, Lila’s appearances are more natural. Plot progression happens with and without her. Her appearances involve her interacting with her classmates like a person. They don’t have to have a plot-relevant purpose.

Narratively, there are three reasons to put in a scene.

Plot

Expansion/information/character focus

Entertainment

In canon, all of Lila's scenes are plot-focused and plot-driving.

In Scarlet Lady, they vary. Some are plot (like Lila's anti-Scar attitude getting more focus and validity over time). But more of Lila's scenes are focus in on her character and entertainment. This builds Lila as a person and makes her enjoyable to watch.

Lila is not a plot device as the plot doesn’t NEED her to progress. But that’s not to say that Lila doesn’t matter…

2. Lila has a role that nobody else in the story could cover.

As I’ve stated before, Canon Lila is pretty much another Chloe and there was nothing she was used for that Chloe couldn’t have or wouldn’t have been able to do. As a rival/foil to Marinette, as another love interest for Adrien, and even as a helper to Hawk Moth—by the time Lila started any of these roles, Chloe was already there and fully capable of filling them.

In Scarlet Lady, due to Scar being the hero Lila is butting heads with and being outted earlier on, SL Lila ends up not filling those same “roles”. She’s not a rival to Scar or Marinette, just a hater/critic of the former and a friend to the latter. She was called out by Adrien so she is shown to have no further interest in trying to pursue him. And as of yet, there has been nothing of Lila helping Hawk Moth.

Instead, Lila’s scenes show her engaging with the other classmates. More of the results of her being revealed as a liar. Her being a queen of sass and snark. And most importantly, her going head to head with Chloe and Scarlet Lady in verbal lashings that prove her silver tongue is no duller for people knowing of it.

In fact, she’s a part of people starting to realize that Scar is in fact horrible and her popularity starts to break down. 

Yes, yes, we do have both Adrien and Marinette who realize how horrible Scarlet Lady is and hate her, but other than some snarky comments at her expense, they don’t do much about it. Mostly because they can’t. Especially early on, it’s clear that they’re forced to keep Scar around because as useless as she is otherwise, she is the only one who can purify the akuma and undo the damage. And as Fu has told them, Scar is still too popular with the city that trying to take the earrings from her would result in more problems. The two of them have to focus on dealing with the akumas more than trying to deal with Scar. Plus let’s be real: even as snarky as they both can get, they’re just too nice.

Others are also similarly of no help. Alya is still completely wrapped in Scar’s facade of a hero to see how selfish and unheroic she is. Most of the other classmates also go along with this narrative. But even the ones who DO know like Alix and Nino aren’t that active. They know but they don’t do anything with that knowledge.

Lila has no such barriers. She’s not a hero. She doesn’t know how “necessary” Scar is in akuma battles. And she doesn’t have to worry about not upsetting Scar since the “hero” already hates her. And thanks to Marinette and the other classmates with their “we still care about you for you” bit, she now has no reason to put up a mask…or a filter.

This makes Lila in prime position to try to push more against Scarlet Lady’s popularity and talk at length about how horrible she actually is. Something she is MORE than happy to do.

Lila is essentially the first main civilian hater of Scarlet Lady.

And with that in mind…

3. Lila’s actions are reasonable. Perhaps not intelligent, but they are reasonable.

She commits a number of the same acts as canon in Volpina. Stealing Adrien’s book, buying a necklace to be a fake Miraculous, trying to claim herself as the hero’s best friend for attention, and trying to claim she is a hero herself to get Adrien’s attention.

SL Lila is not a master manipulator or an up and coming villain. We are not expected to view her as a real threat to anything except Chloe’s ego.

Sure, she wants to speedrun the popularity and attention and maybe a nice rich blond boytoy to be her arm candy, but it’s clear in the very first comic she appears in that Lila has NO IDEA what sort of people she’s interacting with or telling lies about, and so has no way to prepare for what happens. First in that Adrien is so DONE with everything that he calls her out himself from the get go. Second in that Scarlet Lady appears to “save” Adrien from Lila’s lies when it was no longer necessary, proclaims aloud to the multitude of bystanders that Lila is a fraud, and then dumps her in a fountain for good measure and further insults her to boot. And at the end of it all, Scar doesn’t apologize for her actions, doubles down, and only further insults Lila. And as if all of that wasn’t bad enough, still being wet AND being on top of the Eiffel Tower results in her getting sick.

As such, Lila’s hatred of the Ladybug Hero in this version of events feels more understandable and based on a legitimate grievance. Several even. Scar’s actions go well beyond canon’s version. We clearly see how hurt and humiliated Lila is. Plus we have all of Scar’s previous antics to look back on and…well, we already came into this with more reason to hate Scarlet Lady than Lila, and Lila simply jumped on the bandwagon that was already there.

It also makes more sense then that Lila never even pretends to forgive Scar. Scar never apologized. She caused emotional and physical harm to Lila. And unlike Ladybug, Scar never tried to make an offer of friendship so Lila isn’t losing out on any opportunities out of spite. Heck, Scar’s treatment of Alya shows us that there is nothing to be gained from even pretending to be a fan of Scar. So Lila’s hatred of Scar is understandable and her refusal to be friends with Scar makes perfect sense.

When she hides away at her home, there’s a valid reason behind it due to her being sick. Her “plan” to fool her mom and the school in order to avoid going back also makes sense given the fallout she knows she would have to face if she did. (At least more sense than it made in canon for her to disappear for months just because Ladybug outted her to one guy who clearly seemed to be on her side more and neither of them did anything to inform anyone else of the truth.)

And when she returns to the school and the classmates, it isn’t out of nowhere. Once she was no longer sick, she was planning to continue some ruse. We clearly see how despondent Lila was over her situation and the feeling that she’s on her own and no one would side with her over Scar. This was deep. It shows real fears and feelings on Lila’s part. And it’s telling that it was the assurance from Marinette and support from her classmates that convinced her to rejoin the class. It doesn’t look like she would have had the willingness or perhaps the courage to do so if Marinette hadn’t reassured Lila that they had her back and had taken steps to try and help her, even when she wasn’t there and as of yet had done nothing to warrant it.

Here we see a Lila who is vulnerable and real. Who is clearly impacted by events on a deeper and more personal and meaningful level—or at least better than “GRR! Superhero revealed I was lying about her to a boy I like! I shall join the terrorist attacking the city and potentially destroy the WORLD for revenge!”

In this way, Lila is portrayed more like a normal girl. Since the narrative isn’t trying to play her off like she’s supposed to be some master manipulator the way canon does, Lila for all intents and purposes IS a normal teenage girl. A normal teenage girl who was humiliated and injured by someone with more power and social status than she can fight back against. She’s less of an archetype and more of a person with her own thoughts and feelings and ultimately choices which—even if we don’t like or agree with, we can at least see and understand.

Her actions are reasonable. Not just in that we as the audience can empathize with them but that they make sense. For Lila’s character, for her personality, and for someone in her position.

4. No plot armor.

SL Lila’s plans don’t just seamlessly work out. If anything, they go very wrong very quickly. Even before Scar calls her out, Adrien already made it clear that he knows she’s a liar. This effectively ruins her plan to try and get his interest and not just in the “Adrien being nice but not in to her” way. Furthermore, as she’s revealed as a liar in front of the entire class, we clearly see some of her classmates (Alya) continue to take issue with her later on. And even the ones who don’t have such issues are at least fully aware of Lila’s personality and don’t allow her to fool or manipulate them.

Sure, she still tries to manipulate her mom and the school to avoid having to go back, but that doesn’t last that long. And in Lila’s defense at that period of time, she was legitimately sick as a result of her dip in the fountain.

So it’s pretty clear that Lila lacks the plot armor that she had in canon. But it’s not just that Lila experiences losses, it’s also in the ways she succeeds. And unlike Canon Lila, SL Lila is not reliant on the plot to accomplish anything or make things work in her favor.

Some classmates still consider her friends. She’s still welcomed back—even with a bit more trepidation than before. She gets some epic zingers on Chloe and Scar. She got to have another interview with Alya just to be able to go on at length about how horrible Scar is. She manages to get on live TV just to heckle Scar. And over time, more and more people are seeing the problems with Scar.

Lila still gets some victories. Certainly not as many and not as big as what she gets in canon, but at least they don’t feel so forced. And they’re entertaining to see.

Which delves a bit more into an additional point I wanted to make…

5. There are consequences and responses to Lila and her lies.

With Canon Lila, everyone is in this weird sort of limbo where they automatically believe Lila JUST ENOUGH to not question her but at the same time NOT ENOUGH to actually follow through with some of her lies. In Chameleon, Lila claims to have and then magically be cured of Tinnitus and Bustier believes her just enough to rearrange the seats for her at her will but not enough to require some doctor’s note or confirmation of either the presence or recovery from the medical issue—even in the event the former could be overlooked, the latter could NOT and any school or teacher worth their salt would require SOME proof to discontinue an accommodation for someone with a disability because that would be a liability. In Ladybug, Lila claimed Marinette pushed her down stairs and the adults believed her just enough to admonish Marinette but not enough to get Lila actual medical attention, which is a liability and gross negligence. In Ono-chan, Nino believes Lila’s lies about needing Adrien to help tutor her just enough to give her an opening to go to his place but not enough to follow through, check up on her afterwards, or reasonably consider that maybe the supermodel with the super strict father might not be the best person to tutor her and he should ask for help from Max or Sabrina instead?

Each and every time, Lila is believed in the exact way she wants to the exact extent that would most benefit her with minimal effort on her part when it shouldn’t work that way. Even if we disregard how stupidly obvious many of her lies are, there is something wrong when they believe her enough to trust what she says over anyone else telling them otherwise but not enough to follow through on what that belief should then involve. They believe her when she says someone pushed her down the stairs but not enough to get her medical attention? Make sure she has no broken bones or internal bleeding? This has the issue of ruining the suspension of disbelief and making it look like the problem isn’t Lila being amazingly smart and evil so much as it is everyone around Lila being infuriatingly stupid and negligent.

Scarlet Lady nixes that problem in one episode by having Lila be revealed as a liar immediately, but furthermore follows up on it and the fallout of those lies. Nothing big or major or life-ruining—it’s middle school, after all. But the impact is still there.

Even episodes later, we see effects of Lila’s earlier lies. Chloe of course keeps referencing them in their encounters and yeah, it is reason for no one to really take Lila’s word against Scar’s—at least at first. Alya and Adrien both give her some pretty evil looking stares, showing that even five episodes later they both still very much remember what she did and do not approve of her getting free jewelry. Alya in particular stands out. She is shown to bear such a grudge against Lila for lying on her blog that she holds no sympathy for her being sick. And in the second intermission, she looks physically pained when she has to ask Lila for an interview on why she hates Scar. Something she had apparently sworn she would never do again after being fooled the first time. And something Lila looks completely overjoyed to do. There are people who are angry with Lila. They have every reason and every right to be. But it doesn’t have to mean the end of the world for her. It just means that there needs to be something.

The classmates don’t have to be made out to be stupid to make Lila work. They are canonically very kind and forgiving people. But canon makes them come off that way more because the lack of continuity seems to erase the lessons of previous episodes or somehow make them forget that certain people are horrible.

Zoe fixes this and a lot of problems in canon by having not just the classmates but EVERYONE in Paris remember and respond to things that have happened previously, even if just in little ways. Given how little room Zoe has to work with, this is HUGE. Simply adding comments here and there puts the scenes from canon in a new light and makes the classmates feel more fleshed out and like…dare I say it: PEOPLE.

The difference from Canon has a lot to do with how everyone else reacts to Lila, which makes these other characters and Lila appear more real and like fleshed out people rather than caricatures who only exist and move as the plot requires. They don’t have to bash Lila or try to light her on fire for it to be clear that Lila isn’t a good person and that there are consequences to her actions.

This is all leading up to the real possibility of…

6. Character arc?

It says something that contrary to most expectations, Lila is not what one would consider to be redeemed in Scarlet Lady. Lila is not a good person here just because she rejoins the class and becomes their friend and Zoe at no point tries to pretend that she is.

Marinette and other classmates made the choice to reach out and try to befriend Lila, but unlike most other arcs in other stories, this doesn’t result in Lila being redeemed. And she in no way got Lila to admit she was wrong and try to be a good person. 

Lila is not necessarily forgiven or absolved of what she did. Nor is anything Lila did magically erased. All Marinette did and all she had to do was encourage Lila to not run away now that the truth was out. She helped convince her to return to the class with everyone fully knowing what she’s done and the type of person that she is and move forward with that. She informs Lila that despite her lies, there are people in the class who genuinely care about her and are worried about her. 

Hell, it’s not even all up to Marinette. We see Alix sending messages to Lila encouraging her to join the class for Marinette’s birthday party. Sabrina fully admitted to inviting Lila to that party. Same with Rose, who has also been expressed to be worried about Lila. There are members of the class who are shown to care about her and who were noted to have made an effort to help Lila even after what had happened. Because they consider her a friend despite what she did, and that’s what friends do. All they asked was that Lila stop with the lies, stop with running away, and give people a chance.

And the result is the more mellow but passive aggressive Lila Rossi we see in Scarlet Lady. Not a Lila who is a good person or who is redeemed. This is a Lila who is at least honest with everyone about the sort of person that she is. She’s not pretending like she was in canon. She’s not being fake. She’s not putting on a mask of niceness anymore. This is a Lila who is fully acknowledged by everyone to have been a liar, to still be very selfish, and in some ways...a bad influence.

With a few episodes left, perhaps there is more we’ll see of Lila’s development and who she’ll become. Maybe we’ll get to see her take the steps to become better. To be a good friend, a good person, and maybe even a better hero than Scar. I don’t know for sure just yet what Zoe has planned for a character like Lila, but I do know what I see here:

A good start.

#ml analysis #scarlet lady #scarlet lady is better than canon #lila rossi #lila salt #for zoe #merry christmas

[shadesoflsk]

WILL YOU BE HOME FOR CHRISTMAS?

pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x gn!reader

summary: It's going to be Leon's first Christmas without you. He promised you he would get over your death. But how is he planning to do it if the ghost of you keeps haunting him?

warnings: Character’s death, (reader) angst, hurt/no comfort, self-destructing behaviour, alcohol, mentions of religion, Leon speaks with reader.

author's note: I took the liberty to switch the order of my Christmas' special fics, I decided to post this one first since I liked it a lot. I would even say it’s my favorite one so far. Grief is such an interesting topic to write about, so I hope I did a great job! The dialogue part was lowkey (highkey) inspired by one scene from the Crown, season 6. The one where Carlos talked with Diana’s spirit. 

It’s 11:45 pm or so Leon believes. Time seems to slow down when night engulfs his apartment, and he is let alone with his own demons. He would be in pitch darkness if it wasn’t from the fact that his neighbor had decided to turn on the Christmas tree lights that reached through Leon’s windows. Faint carols could be heard, and it was a dreadful reminder of what date it was. 

He is trying, he really is. He drowns in his job that is slowly but surely killing him. Mission after mission, he keeps attempting to mess up — with no avail — since life is cruel enough to keep him alive, to continue watching his sins materialize in sorrow and depressive states. 

During the latter, he would often forget or purposely avoid taking care of himself. When was the last time he ate a full meal? He doesn’t nor wants to remember. His apartment was starting to reek of alcohol and rotten food that Claire has so gratefully left. She would often try striking up some conversation, which was welcomed with an awkward but expected silence. He was never the talkative one. On numerous occasions, he was reprimanded by you for this same topic. So, in the past, he decided to stick with a one-liner — that sometimes brought him unnecessary attention — the dinner one. Your laugh would fill his ears as he told you about the multiple times where people thought he was flirting with them. If you were here, could he make you laugh like that again? Or would you be disgusted by the man he has become these last weeks?

Besides his own memory serving as the place where your face and mannerisms would replay all over again, where are you now? He once heard that a soul is destined to be reborn into a new life. Life is cyclical, the sun rises and sets, the day and night come, but they never meet. He wouldn’t be surprised if you’re a lilly now. The pureness in your heart resembled one of those delicate flowers that your eyes seemed to follow each time you passed through a flower shop. Or maybe you’re someone’s baby being born. Bringing happiness to a family that prayed all night long for a miracle to happen. 

His mind wandered through the blurry moments when he was young. Prayers and cries surrounding a well illuminated place where many statues were presented. He used to fear one specifically, but the gentle touch of his mom would pull him closer to it. In his memory, he looked up to see the person who gave him life, yet he was met with a diffuse image of her. He has long forgotten the looks of his mother. 

In those moments, he often wondered what heaven felt like. He grasps on the last string of memories he had with his parents. How his mother would pull him to her lap and read to him. “Our God loves us so much that he has granted us a place to go when the time is right,” she would say, the term of death was so foreign to his little self but once again he remembers those prayers and promises. Is heaven the clear sky and peaceful home the Bible describes? Or is it a nonexistent place that Christians invented to cope with the fact that a loved one is no longer with them? He hopes it’s the first one since he wants to indulge in that little wish of him — that at least in the afterlife — you found peace. 

How is heaven? He wanted to ask you. Conversations with you used to flow so easily, so right. So, when the time comes he expects to hear every little rambling about your early trip to this called “everlasting paradise”. Is it raining right now? You loved rainy days, since it meant that both of you could cuddle while watching a movie. Or is it snowing since it’s Christmas?  He could almost hear you, your voice echoing in the deepest places of his mind telling him to stop trying to open the gifts. You were supposed to be next to him right now, waiting for Christmas to come.

He is in denial, two weeks ago he had you safely tucked in his arms, already planning what to do on Christmas. He still had your gift somewhere, hidden from your prying eyes even though you kept scolding him for that. Both of you were soulmates, two sides of the same coin. 

Now, he only had the ghost of you haunting him. Mocking him for not being able to protect you. He was hyper aware of every little detail his apartment provided. From the way he hasn’t moved your used mug on the dishwasher, because he feels that it was the last thing your lips touched. A bittersweet memory of your existence in this cruel world, to your book that you didn’t finish. You kept telling him that you were dying to know the ending but you couldn’t finish it before it was too late. If he reads it and prays to God, would he be generous enough to tell you the ending? 

He wouldn’t.

Every night he prayed to God, begged him to switch places with you even though it was an unrealistic thing to ask. But that’s what he wants right now. “It should’ve been me.” But that wish never becomes a reality. He wakes up, night after night, being him and being alone. God doesn’t hear him, he believes that this made up character just blatantly hates him. The forgiving, the loving and almighty God as his followers describe him, just doesn’t match up with his own criteria. A loving God wouldn’t have taken away his only reason to live.

The content in his Jack Daniel’s now does little to numb the pain he was feeling. With a sigh, he drank a bit more, straight from the bottle as the burning sensation traveled from his tongue to his throat. If he drinks enough until he passes out, he could imagine you. Moving across the kitchen with agile steps as you cook his favorite food.

Those moments were the ones he thinks he should've embraced more. Your quirks and habits. How you usually left traces of yourself in his apartment. How you always missed a spot when cleaning the counter and how you always kissed his forehead when placing the plate down on the table. 

Now, it's a bitter reminder of his own loneliness. His eyebrows twitched as the Christmas carols seemed to get louder. The clock reads 11:50 pm, ten minutes to Christmas. Even with the thick snow, the chants of kids being too stubborn to fall asleep were loud enough to fill Leon's ears. He hates living in this neighborhood filled with happy families.

You had a wide and warm smile when you showed Leon this same apartment he's currently rotting in. “It will be perfect once we have a family,” he remembers word by word what you said and he also remembers how you stumbled on your words once you saw the quizzical look he gave you. “I mean we could just have a dog or a cat if you want that. After all, family is where you are.”

Always the damn perfect partner. Always the stupid understanding other half. Why the hell did you even appear in his life if you were gonna die? Everyone else mourned your death but now they are moving on, yet Leon is staying in a never ending loop. Was it your plan? Are you fucking happy in heaven?

For once, he feels all the anger he’s been bottling up. His fists clenched as his breaths grew heavier. He throws the bottle against the wall. The contents spilling all over the floor as the bottle shattered in multiple pieces. He stared at the mess he’s done. His shaking hands grabbed handfuls of his own hair as he tried his best to compose himself. His mind repeating that you would be disappointed over and over again. 

Icy blue eyes started to get clouded by tears he refused to let go. The palm of his hand almost bled by his own nails digging into the thin skin. The regrets and what ifs were the perfect combination for Leon’s wish of dying albeit the fact of his own self deprecating being who believed he deserved to live this hell of a life alone. 

As he managed to keep his tears at bay for now, his eyes lingered on your designated seat at the table. You would always sit at his right, next to him, sometimes holding his hand, forcing him to eat his food with his left one. Now, his hand is cold without your touch. Which reminds him of your body and the last time he held you. Your heart no longer beat and your body was a freezing cruel realization of your death. 

“I was never good with emotions…” Leon’s voice came out as a groan. He had finally spoken after God knows how long. His own throat was constricted by the lump that was forming. He was denying himself the right to be raw, to be human. “You were the one who was better at everything… not me.” Leon swallows his own saliva, an attempt to stop the imminent lump. 

“I guess I was.” A melodic voice which was no more than a whisper filled Leon’s intoxicated ears. He looks at the empty seat next to him and sees nothing. It may be his own mind playing dirty tricks on him. Everything was blurred and dizzy from all the booze he had drunk. But nonetheless, he wouldn’t miss this opportunity, even if you were a creation of his own messed up mind. 

“I’ll take every little moment with me.” The voice was painfully comforting, a soothing lullaby to Leon’s broken beyond repair heart, a gentle breeze that surrounded his body. “The hugs, the kisses, our little trips to the beach and even the fights when none of us could go to bed without saying sorry.” 

A laugh as soft as a draft lingered in the air. The reality behind those words made Leon feel like he was going crazy. He blames the alcohol and the lack of social interactions for this moment. But your bubbly personality was unmistakable. That sweet and tooth- roothing laugh was — at least to Leon — proof that maybe, just maybe, God allowed him to grasp on you one last time.

Or maybe God allowed you to pay him a visit. Neither of you were religious people, but you were closer to heaven that he’ll ever be. So, maybe that pure and wholesome smile blinded God, and you escaped, true to your rebellious nature. Your death turned him into a sappy man. He has always loved you, but the tragic destiny you met made him see you in an even better light. 

“You know I loved you so much…” The voice turned sour and sad, so out of character for you. Well… if it’s you. Even in your last days, you tried to be that thoughtful partner, pushing away every worry out of his mind even though you were slowly withering away. The words slightly trembled, albeit the raw honesty that was being said. Silence set as if the owner of the voice was attempting not to cry. 

“So deeply…” The hushed voice seemed to get even quieter as the course of its words dug deeper in Leon’s heart making it bleed harder than ever. His hand itches to reach where he thinks you are, as if you could materialize from thin air and give him one last hug. One last farewell.

“Please, stop blaming yourself for this. This wasn’t your fault.” Yes, it was. Leon wanted to tell you that. You planted seeds of hope in his heart even when he felt the world was too corrupted to be home for someone as splendid as you. The sense of your living left him chasing footsteps and shadows in order to meet you again.

And as a moth to a flame, he followed you. The chemicals in his brain working overtime to hear the gentle ring of your voice as long as you keep talking. It doesn’t matter if this behavior could put him at a psych after. Talking with ghosts? That can’t happen, yet his love for you seems to break the rules between life and the realms of the afterlife.

“You weren’t supposed to go so soon…” Leon’s voice fills the dim room, engaging in conversation, the tears that he was previously fighting off were at the verge of falling from his eyes. But as a stubborn man, he wouldn’t show weakness and vulnerability, even in a moment like this. “I know nothing good lasts long in my life but —” a choke left his lips as the lump is now growing impossible to hold back. “What kind of twisted sin am I paying off? I can’t live a life without you, I simply can’t.”

“I wasn’t done with you, I wasn’t done with our life. I wanted to adopt that dog we saw at the shelter. Do you remember? I wanted to take you to Italy because you once told me you wanted to try a real pizza.” A shaky breath cuts off Leon’s speech before he continues, his slurred words stumbling one another as if he knew he was running out of time. “I wanted to grow old with you, I wanted to be the first person to notice the gray hair appearing in you. The first wrinkles in your face, which I’m sure would have looked amazing in you darling, you were always perfect. I wanted to help you stand up when your legs couldn’t carry the weight of your body. I wanted —”

“Leon.”

“I wanted to at least spend one last Christmas with you.”

He finishes off with one last wish. One last desire he had hid in his mind for a while now. He knew everything had ended, but right now, he wanted to hear you one last time. He wanted to hear an "I love you" from you.

And there it was… the last thing he wanted to hear. Nothing. 

As soon as the deadly silence filled the room again, uncontrollable tears streamed down his face. Leon bent forward, his forehead hitting against the hard material of the table, letting out all of his repressed emotions. In the midst of his despair and hatred, he cried not only for you and the fact that he failed to protect you. Each drop carried the weight of every life that was lost under his watch, each one of those bright eyed agents who were looking forward to working with him, and only found death in their paths.

What has he done wrong to deserve this terrible but inevitable outcome? He’s beyond tired, beyond hopeless. In his rage, he could only blame the world. 

God, why have you forsaken me? 

He stays there for a while, drowning in his own tears. As reality once again sets in. Deep down, he knew this would be the last time. The universe granted him (or cursed him) by allowing him to hear you one last time. Hear the tender tone of your voice calling his name like you used to do. And maybe he should take that with him just like you did. 

Everyone dies, so will he. There will be a time when God takes pity on him and allows him to meet you once again. Once the time comes and he's sent to the place where you are, he will tell you about the book’s ending. He will tell you about every mission he will get in the still unknown future. He will tell how much he missed you and how much he loved your presence, even if it was just the blink of an eye. He doesn’t know what else he will tell you, but he’s going to make sure to have a list before parting from this world — in a long, far future.

He had enjoyed meeting and being with you. And if somehow God gives him another chance, he would choose you over and over again.

The sweet carols have grown faint and not even the innocent chants of those children filled Leon’s empty and dark living room. It’s already christmas.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy x y/n #vendetta leon #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy drabble

[written-in-flowers]

A Different World: Gwinam x Reader

Pairing: Yoon Gwinam x Plussize!fem!Reader

Genre: Smut. So much Smut. Minors DNI please

Word Count: 12k

Rating: M....very much M, explicit

Summary: Before the outbreak, you never thought you had a chance with Yoon Gwinam, and he thought the same about you. But, once you've both come into a new state of being, a "hambie", suddenly sexual fantasies don't stay fantasies.

Tags: Fat Shaming, Bullying, Toxic Friendships, Dom/sub, Light Sadism, Light Masochism, Spanking, Pulic Masturbation, Masturbation in bathroom, Mutual pining, blood and gore, blood kink, spit kink, rape fantasy, thigh worship, body worship, rough sex, rough oral sex, oral sex (m. and f. receiving/giving), anal sex, rimming, anal fingering, face slapping, facials, cum swallowing, multiple orgasms (m. and f.), multiple positions, no breaks, they're both fucking pervs and so horny for each other, kind of a forbidden romance? well, until all their friends die anyways. ****

You fixed your shirt for the millionth time that morning. You hated how your stomach and chest lightly pushed on the clear buttons of your shirt; it made you look fatter tucked into your skirt. The skirt is a different breed of annoying. Your thick thighs used to chafe from rubbing together throughout the day. You usually pull on gym pants if it becomes too much, but deodorant sticks and your thigh high stockings make it easier to bear. Other girls can wear the pants without a word; you, the chubby one, can't. You hoped the shirt did not pop open from the stretch. The laundry schedule at home meant you'd have at least one day with the smaller school shirt. Fixing it again, you decided to button your blazer over it for now. When you get to class, you can unbutton it to breathe before doing it again.

"Stop doing that. You're going to make it worse," Hyejin said from beside you. "You should've gotten a larger size."

"The store didn't carry any more of it," you admitted quietly. "I need to go there later to see if they have them again."

Choi Hyejin, small and narrow, was one of the two people you're certain you hate. A petite, brown haired girl from an upper class family, she carried the haughty air and snotty opinions of the high society she came from. Had you two not grown up together, you're sure you'd be her favorite punching bag. But since your fathers worked together, and your mothers ran in the same social circles, she resorted to backhanded compliments like this.

"Or you can have it tailored like my brother did," said the girl on your left.

Slender and tall, Kim Soomin was part of the girl's volleyball team and well liked in the athletic scene. Her black hair tied back in a long plait, she wore her volleyball jacket over her uniform, which made her look broader but slimmer at the same time. Another girl from an affluent family, you and her became close on your first day of primary school. That is where your trio-friendship forged, and where it would remain until the end of time. Soomin didn't discourage you like Hyejin did, but you knew why she hung out with you. It's the same reason they both did:

They look hotter when compared to you. Because even with Hyejin's hooked nose and Soomin's height, at least they're not fat.

"I suppose, but my mom might say no," you told her, holding your books to your chest. "She'll just tell me to lose weight."

"Then why don't you? It'd be better for your health, if anything. It can’t be that hard.”

The false concern for your health stabbed another hole in you. Hyejin and Soomin might not be ideal friends, but it was certainly better than having none. With at least these two, you avoided the cruel, harsh bullying you often witnessed happen to others. If Choi Hyejin and Kim Soomin liked you, then you must be cool. However, the trade off is the occasional 'you're fat and that's why your life sucks' discussion. You knew they didn’t actually care if you lost any weight. The longer you remained fat, the better they’d continue to look in comparison. In your mind’s eye, you saw all the boys who flirted with Hyejin at school. They ignored you completely. Not that you cared. Only one boy in Hyoson High School caught your attention, and he’d never notice you. Not in a million years.

"You can always come to the school gym with me!” said Soomin. “I don't mind having a partner and the coach won't say anything about it."

"No thanks. I hate gyms. I always feel people are watching me."

"Nobody watches you, YN," Hyejin scoffed. "They don't care as much as you think they do."

You wanted to tell her that a fat girl in a gym often attracted some kind of torment, but the words caught in your throat. Looking up the path leading into school, you spotted him. Yoon Gwinam. A tall boy with black hair that reached his neck, he wore the school shirt open with a black sweater underneath, likely to fight off the chill. Long limbs made him look longer and broader. You often imagined him completely encapsulating you in a hug, your head on his shoulder and hearing his heart beating. Your heart fluttered seeing him standing in the distance with his friends. He stood, chuckling and smiling when one of them made a joke. You wished it was you making him smile like that. You’d do anything to see it up close. Gwinam is a tough guy; you’ve seen him beat up people with little effort. The sort of guy who’d protect you and care for you above everyone else; the guy whose heart would only melt for you. No guy you’d managed to date treated you the way you wanted.

“-We did it by that old railroad track outside the train stations,” Hyejin’s story broke into your thoughts as you walked. Your eyes kept focusing on Gwinam, leaning against a building near the school. Absent-mindedly, you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, thinking it made you more attractive. “I love it when they groan. It’s super hot when a guy is vocal.”

“I can’t believe you did that,” Soomin laughed. “Especially since he’s dating Aro.”

“Aro should take better care of her man then, if you know what I mean.”

You tuned out Hyejin’s recount, and thought of saying something Gwinam as you walked by. ‘Hey Gwinam’. ‘Morning Gwinam’. ‘Gwinam, please rip off my panties, and fuck me hard.’ No, the last one is a bit too much. Besides, if Soomin and Hyejin saw you talking to him, they’d ask why you did. His reputation around school wasn’t very good; he hung around with bullies who picked on people weaker than them. Yet, it was this bad reputation that made you want him more. You didn’t want to “fix” him. You wanted him as he was, meanness and all. You couldn’t really explain it. Something about him attracted you, and they wouldn’t understand.

“Are you still talking to him?” asked Soomin, amused. “Or have you already thrown him away?”

“Nah, we’re still talking,” she said. Of course they were. You knew Hyejin would eventually forget about her newest conquest and move onto someone else. “He said he can’t get enough of me.”

“Oh my god, you’re so bad.”

The thought of Gwinam only wanting sex from you crossed your mind. It was why most guys approached you: they thought heavy girls are desperate and will sleep with them for crumbs of affection. Normally you reject these guys, since high school boys like to brag. Yet, if Gwinam ever showed interest, you’d crumble immediately. If you put out for any guy in school, it’d be him. Deep down, you sensed he enjoyed the kind of sex you did…At least, in your fantasies he did.

“You know, YN, he’s got a pretty cute friend,” she told you. “I mean, he’s not Namjoon hot, but he’s okay looking. He’s definitely your type. I could set you up-YN? Are you listening?”

“Huh? What?”

Hyejin looked between you and where Gwinam stood and let out a soft laugh. “Oh my god, no way,” she teased, “You’re actually checking out Yoon Gwinam?”

“What?! No,” you defended instantly. “I wasn’t looking at him at all.”

“He’s a jerk, YN,” said Soomin. “He’s a bully. How could you like a guy that bullies people?”

“He’s also a total idiot,” added Hyejin.

“I wasn’t looking at him,” you repeated firmly, heat rising in your cheeks. “He’s just…He’s in my eyeline, that’s all.”

“He’s not even a cute bully,” said Soomin. “You know, like the guys in the dramas. He’s ugly. He’s got a weird face shape.”

You wanted to hit her. Gwinam is by no means ugly. You liked his face, his body, his hair, and everything else. In your daydreams, he liked your body too. He’d spend ages telling you how beautiful he thinks you are, and how much you turn him on.

“Not to mention that ugly haircut,” Hyejin scoffed. “Besides, I wouldn’t bother. It’s not like he’d be into you.”

“Hyejin,” Soomin said carefully. “Don’t be so mean.”

“I’m not being mean. I’m being honest,” she retorted. “Guys like him are total assholes. He’d probably laugh at you and walk away if you confessed.”

“I won’t confess because there’s nothing to confess.”

It pained you to admit it, but Hyejin was right. Gwinam would never like a girl like you. You looked at him one more time as you came closer. He didn't even look your way. Why should he? There’s nothing special about you. Guys never looked at you; why should he be any different? You walked past his group, and your eyes met him for a split second. You quickly turned away before he noticed you. It made your cheeks burn more, simply having him acknowledge you for a second even if he thought nothing of you.

“Ugh, so gross,” Soomin huffed.

“The dude’s a walking red flag. You should like someone else,” Hyejin smiled slowly, “Like Lee Suhyeok. Isn’t he gorgeous?”

Yes, Suhyeok was the handsome, friendly guy any sane girl would like. Yet, you didn’t. You found it difficult when you compared him to Gwinam, who checked all your boxes. Your fondness for bad boys will eventually come back to bite you, you know. It was best for everyone if you kept it to yourself.

“Gosh, I’d kill to get a slice of him,” Hyejin sighed.

“But he’s not into you,” you said to her. A little dig into her made you feel good. “He likes someone else, I heard.”

“That’s because he hasn’t gotten with me yet,” she replied with a sly smile.

“Maybe he doesn’t want to get with you because you fuck any guy who gives you attention,” you heard yourself say to her. You instantly gasped and Soomin laughed out loud. “Oh, um, well, I mean maybe-”

“-Maybe ‘what’? At least guys actually look at me, unlike you. Namjoon told me he and his friends have a bet going, you know,” she spat back. “Yeah, to see who could bag The Pig. He told me to introduce you to his friend, since he said if he wins, he’d split the money with us. Want to know what I said? I said ‘no’ because I’m a good friend.”

“What?” Your throat dried up at that confession. It was always your worst fear: a guy showing interest as a dare from his friends. “So, you were going to set me up with someone who means to play a prank on me?”

“Oh, come on, like you’re that dumb. I told him you wouldn’t fall for it. He’d have to try really hard since you always get all weird when you like a guy.”

“But you still knew,” you stopped walking, and gripped your books tightly. “You were still going to go through with it just so some asshole keeps liking you.”

You wanted to hit her. You wanted to call her every name in the book, and smack her until you drew blood. She thought herself so above you and Soomin. You pictured yourself literally knocking her down a size. Your nails dug into the soft cover of your textbooks, so tight your knuckles burned. Images of you sitting in a restaurant, waiting on a guy who might never come, tightened your chest. You hated her.

“I was going to tell you,” she said, “Stop being so dramatic. It’s not like you’ll go through with it. You chicken out every time a guy comes onto you. I told you about it just now, didn’t I? See, I’m a good friend to you and you say mean things to me. I was only looking out for you.”

She turned on her heel and continued walking. Soomin stayed behind for a moment, seeing your eyes glare at Hyejin’s back. “YN?” she came to you cautiously, “YN, we gotta go to class.”

Why were you friends with her? Why were you friends with either of them? You knew why. Because it was better to be friends with them, taking the licks, than not having friends at all.

“YN-”

“-Fuck off,” you hissed at her before leaving her side.

You blinked back the tears building up in her eyes. Going into the school with teary eyes might attract more attention than you’d like. Crying in front of people showed weakness. You couldn’t let people know you’re weak because then you’d become a target too. Walking away from the school pathway, you ended up in the construction site beside the main building. You aren’t sure what the school planned to make the building, but that didn’t matter to you. The half finished, concrete building remained abandoned during the day time. Nobody will hear you crying. You walked until the sounds of the other students faded into nothingness.

You’re a joke to them. You’re the dumb, ugly fat friend who they can look at when they feel bad about themselves. Every rude word, every mean comment from everyone in your life came rushing back to you. Your mother scolded you for eating more than you should. Your father said he was glad because then he didn’t have to worry about boys coming to his door. Hyejin liked pointing out the flaws in your outfits and Soomin constantly offered unsolicited health advice. You doubted this “friend” of Namjoon’s would actually like you. Not even the boys you’d gone out with before liked you. They always shift uncomfortably or tell you to keep it a secret. God forbid their friends should find out they liked the fat girl.

You collapsed against a bare, concrete wall and looked outside a window frame. Fresh air blew past the window, only just brushing the window sill you leaned against. You forced yourself to enjoy the free air to drown out the pain festering inside you. Visions of beating every single person in your life passed like a movie reel. You briefly imagined Hyejin getting into an accident that disfigures her pretty face forever; you pictured your mother finally dying and being free of her hateful words. Why couldn’t people just let you live?

As you stood there thinking, your favorite daydream came back. Gwinam is your boyfriend, and he hears what Hyejin said to you and what Namjoon’s friends planned to do, and beats them all up for you. In this daydream, you have a protector who adores you; who loves you as you are. A Gwinam who’d burn down the world for you; who’d bring ultimate pain to anyone who hurt you. You knew this Gwinam did not exist, but you comforted yourself with the fantasy anyways. Wiping your eyes, hoping the redness won’t be noticeable, sudden footsteps from the next room made you jump. You listened closely and realized it was multiple people.

“I told you to have the money with you.”

The familiar voice of Gwinam sent shivers down your body. You didn’t know who he’d come with, but you guessed it was his gang of bullies. Visions of what they might do if they caught you in the building, weeping and weak, and you pressed yourself against the wall. You could stay there until they left, or maybe you could sneak out through the window. But, the temptation guided you to the nearby hole in the wall meant to be a doorway. You rarely get a chance to watch Gwinam undisturbed this way. Usually, you’re with one of your friends or in a crowded room, and someone might see you. These moments didn’t come very often, so you seized it. Quietly, you walked to the door nearby and peeked one eye into the main room.

There he was, standing a few feet from a short, skinny boy. You immediately recognized the boy as Park Jisung, a boy from your homeroom. Jisung cowered away from Gwinam, who had him cornered in the empty room. Gwinam looked at Jisung the way a cat looked at a mouse. Your eyes scanned over his long frame; you pictured him standing front of you with the same stare. If you wanted anyone to bully you, it’d be Gwinam.

“I’m-I’m sorry, Gwinam,” Jisung gave a bow, shaking and nervous. “I’ll bri-bring it tomorrow.”

“But I need it today,” he said. He sighed, “Guys like you really fucking piss me off.”

‘Yes. Yes, get pissed off. Make him regret it,’ your darkest fantasies screamed. You pushed yourself against the wall, heat starting to flare up in your body despite the cold wall. ‘Hit him. Hurt him. Hit me. Hurt me.’

“I’m sorry, Gwinam! If you give me a little bit of time, I’ll get you the money. I promise. My parents didn’t have any to-”

“-I don’t care,” he said. “Fucking asshole.”

You flinched as Gwinam’s hand slapped Jisung across the face. Jisung stumbled to the side. Psh, weakling. He didn’t even hit that hard. You looked at Gwinam’s face, anger rising in him as he smacked Jisung around more. If only he did that to you. You clenched your thighs together watching him swing his long arms in each slap. Once Jisung hit the ground, Gwinam’s kicks began harsher and deeper. He looked so hot. Being angry or scared brought out a person’s true nature; Gwinam liked hurting people, and you liked watching him hurt people. You liked how Gwinam threw Jisung around like a rag doll, smacking and kicking him. You thought of him doing the same to you. Guys like Gwinam made you feel small and weak, despite your heaviness. You bit your lower lip thinking of those hands pinning you to the ground, leaving bruises around them for later. He’d throw you on the ground, tear open your shirt to bite and slap your tits before fucking you. No foreplay. No gentleness or kindness. You’d be wet from his ferocity alone.

“Piece of shit,” Gwinam growled.

“What a loser,” you heard one of his friends laugh.

Your body slowly began grinding into the side of the doorway. Nobody would see you in the dimness, surely. They’re preoccupied with Jisung, who wept and begged them to stop. Your pussy pulsed watching Gwinam kick and stomp on him. You stuck your hand underneath your skirt, carefully running your fingers over your sex. It’d have to be quick, but watching Gwinam in the flesh this way made you wetter. Tightness built between your thighs, that familiar arousal burning as your fingers trailed over your slit. The chilling wall caused your nipples to harden, and you thought of Gwinam’s mouth on them. He’d bite and suck as his cock grinded into your pussy. You’d grip his shoulders and arms, nails clawing his flesh as he teased you.

You’d let him take you however he wished. You’d be his personal fuck toy; a thing only made to pleasure him.

“Psh, pathetic motherfucker,” Gwinam spat at Jisung. He crouched down and lifted his head by the hair.

You bit down on your lip as you circled your clit. His tongue swirls around it greedily, gripping your thighs hard and growling from the taste. He stood Jisung up to his feet. He’d do the same to you. He’d laugh at you for getting so wet so easily; he’d call you a whore, smack you one more time, before continuing the sexual torture. Maybe he’d do what he did to Min Eunji once. He’d grab a marker and write filthy words on your body, on your clothes, so people knew you belonged to him. Screw what your friends thought. This is your fantasy, not theirs. Your lips grew wetter, and you pushed your panties aside. You started rubbing yourself quicker. A slew of dirty thoughts came as Jisung groaned, and coughed.

Gwinam spanking your ass until it becomes tender and hot.

Gwinam spitting in your mouth, then calling you a filthy bitch for doing it.

Gwinam tying you to his bed at home and leaving you there for whenever he gets horny.

The climax hits you hard with the usual scene: Gwinam chasing you through a forest, feral and high on adrenaline, until he gets his hands on you. You rode it out on your hand as you pictured him fucking you like an animal. His teeth gritted, his muscles tense and tight, and his cock shooting cum over your face and breasts. It’d hurt, but you’d love that. Your juices coated your fingers, and you shivered as you came down into your post-orgasm glow. Gwinam finished beating up Jisung, who tearfully ran away when Gwinam and his friends let him go. Panting, running his hands through his hair, Gwinam stood there a moment while his friends left the building. You continued circling your sensitive nub, wishing you could go for a second time. The bold fantasy of you offering yourself to him right then crossed your mind, but no, you’d never do that. Then, the unthinkable happened.

Gwinam saw you. He’d turned his head casually; you supposed he’d done it to check if anyone had seen him, and spotted you in the other room. You froze in place, quickly withdrawing your hand from your panties. Due to the angle, Gwinam didn’t see your lower half, but him having seen you was enough. Dark eyes swept down the parts of your body he could see. What if he suspected what you’d done? What if he’d heard you and purposefully prolonged the beatdown? You gasped and whipped your body around out of sight. You worried he might confront you. You held back a whimper imagining him coming over to you, sticking his hands in your panties, and telling you how naughty you’ve been.

‘Insatiable slut. You can’t even wait until we’re alone to touch yourself for me. Do it again. Now.’

Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. You heard Gwinam’s friend call out to him, and you heard him leave. In reality, he’d never want to touch you. He’ll no doubt go to his friends and tell them what he suspected. They’ll taunt and tease you forever about it. Soomin and Hyejin would be disgusted with you, because even if you disliked them, they’re all you have. On wobbly legs, you picked up your things and left the construction site.

Your fantasies will always be exactly that. Fantasies. Nothing more.

How did you do it? How did you catch his attention when nothing else does? How do you make this entire world slow down when you walk past him? Any time Gwinam saw you, he swore everything around him stopped for you. Most girls at school didn’t have that effect on him. They were too skinny or too annoying. Gwinam liked girls with soft curves that made him drool. You are such a girl. The briefest of glances from you haunt him throughout the rest of the day. That small twinkle of acknowledgement sent him into a stunned silence for several seconds, if not minutes. So, to see you in that half-finished building, breathless and clutching the wall, inspired a fresh series of fantasies. He thought of going up to you in that building, pulling down your panties and shoving himself inside you. You’d stay up against that wall, shirt open and tits bouncing, as he pumped his cum into you. He loved your tits. And your thighs. He liked peeking at them during class. The desk always stopped just underneath them so he had a nice view. Lord knows what he’d do if you sat beside him. He’d leave class with wet fingers every day.

But, sadly, those dirty thoughts would never come to be. A smart, clever girl who always did well would never want an idiot like him. Girls like you wanted handsome, smart guys like Suhyeok. Gwinam is forced to live with thoughts of you in his arms in his dreams. You must be so soft. You always smell nice too. He’s noticed it before; it’s a flowery perfume that drew him to you. He thought of your laugh as he walked towards school with Myunghwa and the others. He wished he could be the one making you laugh. Visions of kissing you, walking hand-in-hand with you, and being with you clouded his mind. He’d be good to you. Gwinam wasn’t kind very often, but he’d treat you so well. He’d give you anything you wanted; do anything you asked of him.

He’d hurt someone for you, if you wished it.

The group entered the school before classes began, and Gwinam caught sight of you rushing past them. A hint of floral perfume hit his nose, causing him to breathe it deeply. He noticed you heading towards the bathrooms. He smirked. You must’ve made such a mess. Too bad he isn’t there to lick you clean. He shook the image of your soaked pussy from his head when Myunghwa smacked the nape of his neck.

“-Are you listening to me?” the short boy asked him irritably.

“Huh? Yeah, I was.”

Myunghwa scoffed disbelievingly. “Fucking idiot,” he said, “You never pay attention.”

“He was checking out Park YN,” Changhoon, another part of their group, smirked. “I can’t believe you like that fattie. She’s not even pretty in the face.”

“I wasn’t checking her out,” Gwinam said defensively. “I wouldn’t touch her even if she was the last girl on earth.” He considered the feeling might be mutual. You’d never truly like him. If you were doing what he thought, it must’ve been for someone else. The idea alone boiled his blood. “She’s ugly.”

No, you’re not. You’re beautiful. So beautiful. He thought of the other day when he saw you in the library. You often go there during lunch to catch up on homework or to read quietly. You liked reading, he noticed. You’d sat beside a window, and he admired how the sun caught in your hair, illuminating your face. He put the image to memory for those tough nights at home. Whenever his dad called him useless or his mom shook her head in disappointment, he pictured you in that chair. You’d lift your head, smile, and tell him he’s not a waste of space. You’d encourage and lift his spirits up…and he’d kiss you. He thought of your lips and the cherry lip balm he spotted in your bag. They must taste so good.

And he’d never have them. He’d never have you. He’s not supposed to like girls like you. He’s supposed to like skinny, pretty girls like your friends. Yet, those girls didn’t excite him like you did.

Myunghwa went on with some story about how someone mentioned his name in Jinsu’s disappearance. The police went to his house to question him. Gwinam wanted to tell him they’d done the same to him and the others. It’s not their fault Jinsu made it so easy for them; he never fought back until that night. Gwinam recalled the way his body hit the sign, hit a balcony, before finally crashing into the alleyway. He’d never seen a dead person before. He’d been sure that the police might arrest him. They could’ve found fingerprints on Jinsu’s skin or caught him on camera somehow. Yet, they’d done the opposite. They believed the story of them having been out in the street and nowhere near Jinsu’s last location.

Gwinam walked into class on his own, and spotted you in your usual seat next to him. You shared a desk space with your friend, Soomin, but his desk was across the aisle. He bit the inside of his lip seeing you crossed your legs under your desk. A small peek of your thigh high stocking stirred more dirty images in his mind. He liked how a bit of pudge went over the stocking bands; if he ever got his hands on those thighs, he’d lose his mind. He took his seat nearby and did his best to not look at you. He thought about the construction site again, picturing you fingering yourself to him and cumming hard on your pretty fingers. He shifted his gaze slightly to see your chest exactly where he knew it’d be. The combined picture of your thighs and your breasts caused him to swallow thickly and look elsewhere. He’d die of embarrassment if he got a hardon in class, but how could he ignore such a sensual sight?

As Mr. Lee, their science teacher, began class when Gwinam noticed you starting to pull off your blazer. Logic and reason said you must be hot, considering you’re sitting near the windows. But his horny, perverted mind said you were taking it off for him. You wore a tight shirt today, so it showed off the curves of your bosom and tummy. His jaw dropped when he spotted a white strap through the fabric. Your bra, he hoped. He quickly thought of you in his lap, wearing nothing but your skirt and stockings. No bra. No panties.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he dared a chance to look at it. A message from Myunghwa.

‘Wow, you got it bad for her, huh? Bet she’d crush you if she got on top.’

He clenched his jaw and put the phone away. Whenever he felt a new fantasy coming on, his friends ruined it for him. He wished he could sit closer. He wished he could talk to you, and only you. You’re so smart. You answer Mr. Lee’s questions without hesitation and so eloquently. Your friends might be pretty, but they’re complete airheads. You’re the intelligent one. The intelligent one with pretty lips and eyes that made him melt.

Gwinam went through absolute torture during class. Not even amusing himself by bullying Eunji distracted him. Seeing the buttons between your tits stretch from the size, he knew he’d have plenty of jerk-off scenarios tonight.

‘Gwinam? Could you help me with my shirt? It’s so tight and uncomfortable. Please, take it off me.’

He squeezed his eyes tightly and bit his tongue as the signal for lunch rang through the school.

‘The cold’s making my nipples hard. Would you warm them with your mouth? They’re so hard and my hands aren’t as warm as your tongue.’

Fucking hell. Gwinam stood up from his desk before you did, and decided a walk to the cafeteria might clear his head.

‘Oh, Gwinam, your cock’s so big-’

Fuck. No.

‘-Put it between my tits, and fuck them. I want to make you cum using my soft, huge tits.’

He pushed into a bathroom stall, locked the door and started unbuckling his pants.

‘God, they just swallow your dick. I can’t wait for you to cum all over them. I love cum. I want you to cum on me. Please, Gwinam, cover me in your yummy cum.’

His dick throbbed in his hand in every stroke. His eyes closed and he thought about you in the construction building. He thought of catching you touching yourself, and taking advantage of your vulnerable position. Gwinam pictured himself tearing off your clothes, exposing your luscious body, and tasting every inch of you. You’d struggle at first, pleading and whimpering for him to stop, but you’d soon give into him. Gwinam focused on the image of you riding him to climax. Your tight walls clenched hard around him as he rubbed his thumb over your clit; your breasts bouncing in his face until he suckled on one of them. The thought made him cum within minutes. That’s what you did to him. He wished you didn’t have such a fierce hold on him. He wished he didn’t desire you so much, but he couldn’t help it. He’d become completely blind to any other woman he met. He only wanted you.

Coming down from his orgasm, he cleaned himself up and decided to head to the cafeteria. He felt refreshed having gotten you out of his system. He wondered if he might see you there or if you’d go to the library again today. He didn’t care which one. He’d have to keep his leering to a minimum now that Myunghwa saw him looking at you. He came up with explanations to why he’d been looking your way, but none of them sounded convincing. When he entered the cafeteria, he did see you there. You stood in line with Soomin. You’d put your blazer back on, which dampened his spirits a bit. But then again, it might be good for him. He’d only just finished rubbing one out to you. He can’t do it twice in such a short amount of time.

He got into the line two people behind you, and looked at his phone instead. Myunghwa and Changsoon taunted him over what they’d seen in class. They made fun of you, talking about how your buttons must be holding on for dear life or telling him to be careful as you might break his bed getting into it. He wanted to kill them. He didn’t care if they talked badly about other girls; he didn’t want them talking badly about you. But, rather than tell them off, he joined in the conversation.

‘Kekeke, she probably jiggles around like jello.’

This amused them. Yet, he looked at you as the line moved. You styled your hair differently. Usually, you wore it tied back from your face, but today it flowed freely around your face. Gwinam did not have a particularly favorite look; he loved anything you wore or did to yourself. He watched you chat with Soomin. By your annoyed gaze and clenched jaw, he assumed you’re arguing quietly. No doubt your “friend” Choi Hyejin said something to upset you, and Soomin defended her. He often overheard you three talking at lunch or in class. He liked the sound of your voice, so sue him. Hyejin in particular liked putting you down, and you let her. Just like how he let Myunghwa talk down to him.

He shoved the person in front of him out of the way, stepping to them when they protested until they backed off.

“-She didn’t mean anything by it. She only meant that you’re not that good with guys, so she was trying to help,” Soomin said to you as you started down the line. “She didn’t know Namjoon planned anything until he said it.”

“Whatever.”

“Oh, YN, you know Hyejin cares about you. I do too.”

“Okay.”

You shut down. Whatever Soomin said to you left you defeated. He thought of pushing Soomin aside and holding you close. Whatever prank or mean thing Hyejin said to you would be smothered away by his kisses. He grabbed a tray, and began going down the line with you. Seeing your cold stare, and how you avoided Soomin’s gaze, you’d gotten locked inside your head. It happened to him a lot too. Whenever Myunghwa insulted or hit him, or whenever his father called him a worthless piece of shit, he’d sink into the dark, lonely place in his mind. If only he could pull you from it, then you would never feel pain again. Soomin must’ve given up trying to reach you, because then she scoffed and walked away to sit down. This left a gap between you and him. He thought about what he’d just done in the bathroom, and wished he’d taken you with him. As you reached the end of the line, the both of you reached for a pair of utensils at the same time.

“Oh, sorry,” you said timidly. “I didn’t…I’m sorry, I…”

“It’s okay,” he said, picking up one of the wrapped pairs to hand to you, “Here.”

“Thank you.”

Oh, your eyes. He never gave them enough appreciation. So much innocence and sweetness shined from them, yet they hid something much darker within. He could tell. He wanted to say more, but what? Rarely did he get this close to you. He was always worried someone might see and make fun of him for it. But, there’s nobody who matters around him. He saw you turn away from him shamefully. No doubt you’re remembering what happened on the construction site. When he did not look away from you, you squeaked out:

“I won’t tell anyone what I saw. I promise.”

Did you think he’d hurt you? “Good,” he said, bending down to your ear, “I won’t tell anyone what I saw either. I hope you enjoyed yourself.”

What in the hell was he doing? Trying to scare you away? He mentally kicked himself when he spotted your widening eyes. He watched you scurry away from him like a mouse, and it left him disheartened. He couldn’t help himself, could he? What did he think you’d say to that? Gwinam bit his tongue again, then went to sit with the gang. He forced himself not to look at you. Looking at you in front of the guys meant more teasing. He only liked one kind of teasing, and it was the teasing he got from you.

You woke up with a gasp. Your heart hammered in your ears, and suddenly you croaked in pain. You felt as if someone dislodged your bones, then put them back into place. Heat burned behind your eyes, and briefly you smelled blood all around you. Hunger. A distinct hunger rumbled in your body, but something inside you fought it back. Your mind went back and forth between this limbo of cravings and denials before you paused all together. You blinked your eyes a few times as your vision cleared.

It took several moments for you to register that you were soaked to the bones on the cafeteria floor. All around you, you hear gargled snarling and sharp hissing sounds. You heard feet shuffling or skidding across the floor; the cracking of bones made you flinch every time it sounded in the room. You kept your eyes closed, hoping if you open them, you’ll be back home in your bed. But, no you weren’t. You knew you weren’t.

Sitting up, you felt a distinct soreness in your neck, shoulder, stomach and arm. You looked down at your shaking hands to see them stained with blood. You found more of it on your uniform and stockings. You took deep breaths as you spotted the deep, crimson stain on your left forearm. Gingerly, you pulled up your sleeve to see a bite mark deep in your flesh. It looks fresh, as if it’d never healed. But, when you touched it, you felt no pain. The same was said for the scratches and bites on your stomach, the injuries having slashed through your shirt. You pressed down on the mark on your neck, only to hear the squishing of severed flesh. Curious, you poked your pinky into a hole in your neck, feeling no pain whatsoever. How could this be?

“Am I dead?”

You stared around the empty cafeteria. The people who’d been there had not escaped. The blood stains on the walls, windows, floors and tables told you as much. The creatures who’d once been classmates must’ve attacked the others, turning them into beasts as well. But, why had that not happened to you? You jumped suddenly when the gnashing, guttural sounds came from behind you. Your eyes widened in shock. Hyejin. At least, what was left of her. Hyejin, once dainty and posh, now cracked her neck this way and that as she snapped her jaws like a turtle. You saw her front covered in blood, more of it smeared around her mouth and on her hands. Blood red eyes instantly locked with yours. You let out a scream as she rushed towards you, hands outstretched and clawing for you. You shielded yourself in a fetal position, ready to be devoured by her, before you realized she wasn’t touching you. Hyejin, reeking of rotting flesh, only hunched a few inches from you. You heard her sniffing the air around her. She moved her head side to side, still biting and growling as drool came from her yellowed teeth. But, she did not touch you.

Soon, Hyejin backed away. She jolted upright, and began moving from you to the center of the room. You realized she was not the only one in the room. Other students who’d sat in the cafeteria now jerked and stumbled around. You stood up, almost slipping on the wet floors, and waited for one of them to notice you. But, none of them did. They should be charging at you; they should be ripping and tearing at your body, but they did not. To them, you’re not there. Touching your wounded neck again, you realized something: You’d become one of them. That is why they did not attack you as you walked out of the cafeteria.

Nor when you reached the pathways outside school. All around you, students walked around, sniffing and searching for more human meat. None of them bothered you unless you bothered them first. Even then, they only snapped their teeth at you before moving away. It felt surreal. An ignorant person might believe they’re in a dream, but you knew better. Whatever happened here has led to hundreds of students being infected with a mind altering disease. You wondered what could’ve caused this as you walked around the school. Biochemical warfare? Chemical lab experiment gone wrong? You couldn’t think of anything else. You could only focus on trying not to attract any of the zombies around you.

It all came back to you as you walked. One minute, you’d been apologizing to Hyejin for what you’d said about her, and the next a rush of students flooded the room. You’d been the first to stand from your seat. You remembered students screaming with terror as they ran through the cafeteria. You remembered seeing the things chasing them: other students, all of them red-eyed and feral. They screeched and growled hysterically, as if possessed by demons. But, that’s childish; this was something worse. You’d grabbed your bag once you saw an infected student tackle a girl by the wall and instantly bite into her throat. Soomin, the athlete, managed to get to a back door before either you or Hyejin. Some friends. It truly became every man for himself. Hyejin had screamed in absolute terror when one zombie, a large boy, blundered after her. You remember being a few steps ahead of her by then. You’d reached for the kitchen doors when a hand yanked your head back.

Hyejin used you as a means of escape. You’d slipped and tripped over the floors as the sprinkles above went off, causing it to rain inside the cafeteria. The large zombie grabbed hold of you, but you’d managed to fight him off. Another zombie, a girl with short hair, launched at you. That’s how your arm was bitten. But, you hadn’t stayed under her for long, since you threw her off you. You’d gotten up a second time where you watched Hyejin running through the kitchen to the back doors. Seeing it up ahead, you knew instinctively she’d close the door on you if she reached it. You recall leaping. You never leapt before, but you leapt towards Hyejin. Your hands found her long dark hair, fisted it tightly, and dragged her from the door. She fell to the ground with a painful groan. By the back door, you saw the two zombies attack her. You sidestepped another zombie when you realized the back door was locked. Running into the main kitchen, you dodged zombies and screamed when one of them lurched for you. Due to the slippery floor and chaos of humans and zombies, you’d fallen face forward. All air knocked out of you, you scrambled up before a zombie caught you.

That’s when more of them came. You squeezed your eyes tightly as you thought of the stink of death and harsh pain of teeth breaking skin. You’d howled from the nails digging into your skin, and the number of zombies all vying for a piece of you. Kicking and screaming, you eventually caved when one of them sunk his teeth into your neck, the one that was most obvious to you. You touched it again, walking back into the school to the library, your sanctuary. You didn’t find anyone there. It appeared whatever zombies were here had left.

Empty. That is what the world became: empty. Yet, it didn’t feel like it to you. You heard the sounds of zombies groaning outside perfectly. You could smell the paper of the books underneath the foul odor of blood and corpses. Tapping a table, the sound was louder to you. Your ears became sensitive to any sound you made after. You guessed the other zombies, mindless and aimless, reacted to noise as well. Grabbing a book, you opened the window to test your theory. You saw several zombies walking around the fields outside. You launched the book out the window, watching it fall and crash onto the ground. The small slap alerted every zombie within a twenty foot radius. They clambered over to the sound, but growled their discontent when they only smelled more dead flesh. So, a unique sense of sound. You wondered what else your new existence brought you.

This heightened sense came in handy an hour or so later. You’d been setting small fires across the library, trying to see how far your sense of smell went, when you heard it. At first, you thought it might be another zombie, but your new nose said otherwise. The newcomer did not smell like rotting flesh or congealed blood. They were something in between. You took a whiff around, and the trail led towards the library entrance. You’d been thinking of testing out your strength and speed. You saw how indestructible your fellow zombies were: you’d been throwing computer parts at them from above and barely making a dent. You might have a similar strength. You knew whatever being sauntered into your hideout will be your guinea pig. You put out your small bonfire with a wet paper towel, and followed the sounds and smells with your new body.

You made to move, but the intruder stepped out from behind the bookcases. It was Gwinam, except he looked drastically different from the boy you saw this morning. Firstly, he wore a new jacket that obviously wasn't his. Secondly, a hideous, nauseating gash went through his left eye, leaving a gory mess behind. He stopped when he saw you. You stared at him. He stared at you. Neither of you said anything. It was like meeting one of the zombies; you did not have to speak to understand one another.

"You too?" He asked, his deep voice breaking the silence.

"Yeah."

"In the cafeteria?"

"Yeah. You?"

"In here."

"When?"

"A few hours ago. Cheongsan pushed me off there," he pointed to one of the high bookcases, "And I got bit." His good eye surveyed you from afar.

"And your eye?"

"He shoved a phone into it."

"A phone?"

The idea of a cell phone never occurred to you. You could've called for help, but that didn't seem to matter anymore. Who could help you? And if help was called, they would have come by now. "Yeah, the corner part," he said, acting out the gesture with a stabbing motion, "But it's whatever. I don't really feel it. I plan on killing him." He spotted the deep wounds on your neck, and said, "Those don't bother you either?"

"Not really. I thought they'd at least itch, but they haven't," you said. "I tried recording the healing process, but it's very slow. I think because we're still partly human, we can't feel the pain but our muscles and skin react to it. Look, see," you showed him your bite marks, the skin barely together but no longer leaking blood. "It stopped bleeding, but the wound hasn't healed."

"Is that what you've been doing here?" He gestured to the trash can at your feet. "Experimenting?"

"Well, yes," you said, sheepishly. "I want to see what my body is capable of now that I've reached this new level of being. My senses are certainly sharper: I can smell things from at least twenty feet; I'm able to hear things from a further distance too, since sound echoes and bounces. I've discovered I don't die. I can't die. Seeing you now, I'm assuming it's the same for you?"

"Yeah."

You caught him looking over your body again. You became self-conscious immediately. Being undead, you doubted you'd lose any weight from your previous life. Add the disgusting bites and scratches on your flabby flesh, and you're absolutely distasteful. You didn't need Gwinam staring at you like that.

"Stop it," you said, not meeting his eyes.

"Stop what?"

"Looking at me. You don't see me staring at your eye, do you? I don't need reminding of how ugly I am."

"You're not ugly."

You scoffed, "Please, don't insult my intelligence. I know how my body looks."

"I know too, and I like it."

"Huh?" You saw it once you met his eyes.

"Nothing about your body has ever bothered me," he said, licking his lips at you. "In fact, everything about it turns me the fuck on."

You walked backwards from him as he approached. Your heart thumped in your chest, the sound spreading to your ears and freezing your bones. A sudden heat flared up in your body, and you gulped thickly as it went all over. The glint in his eye is unmistakable, and it excites you. Never did you think this would happen. Yoon Gwinam was only meant for your dirtiest, smuttiest fantasies reserved for lonely nights at home. Yoon Gwinam was the forbidden fruit that you'd never reach; Hyejin and Soomin being the ones raising the branch with each disgusted word. Yet, as the world turned upside down, those fantasies quickly turned into reality as Gwinam moved towards you.

"You make my cock so fucking hard," he nearly growled, already unbuckling his pants. "It drives me crazy. I have to sit in class…seeing you there in that little skirt…seeing your tits almost bursting out of your shirt…I know why you wear it that way…you like showing off those big tits just for me, don't you?" The way he walked reminded you of Jisung from that morning. A lion coming upon its prey. Something about this brazen, direct Gwinam caused your mind to wander back into those fantasies. "And don't get me started on those thighs of yours,” his eyes scanned your body and stopped to your thighs, “I love looking at them, especially when you wear stockings…the way they hug your thighs so some pudges out…fuck, you know it does things to me…"

"What?" Your voice quivered slightly.

"Don't act innocent with me," he said, getting closer. His dark eyes full of frustration and lust brought back to the last scenario you imagined. Your arousal throbbed between your legs. "You act all clean cut but I know deep down you're just a whore who wants to be fucked senseless every second of the day.” He unzipped his fly, but did not pull anything out, "You made me so horny in class that I jerked off in the bathroom during lunch. I remembered you at the construction site, all breathless and horny, and I couldn't help it."

He came within inches of you. The heavy scent of blood and sweat reached your nose, and you bit your bottom lip. A sharp gasp left you when his body pressed into yours. Gwinam tugged down the front of his pants and boxers to withdraw his dick. The sight made you wet instantly. Not too long, it was certainly thick with heavy balls underneath. You knew you'd definitely feel him stretching you soon. You already imagined it tearing you apart as he ravaged your body.

"Open your shirt and let me see those tits," he demanded, eyes focused on your chest. "You were so eager to show them before. I want to see them now."

With trembling fingers you unbutton your shirt. Underneath, Gwinam saw the white undershirt you wore stretched over your large breasts. You untucked your shirt so he may see more of you, which he liked. You worried about the gashes zombies left on your stomach and chest, but Gwinam hardly noticed them. He sailed up your body past them and to your breasts. He cupped one right away, causing you to whimper from the touch. Gwinam smirked and squeezed it so you whimpered again. You never considered stimulation before this moment. You might not feel any pain, but you certainly felt the small sparks his hand alone brought. His hands warmed up as they fondled you over your bra and shirt, the temperature hardened your nipples so they poked into the fabric. The cotton fabric of your bra did nothing to hide this from Gwinam, who bent down to bite gently down on one. You made a mental note to write down ‘sexual stimulation’ as part of your human side.

He put your hand on his crotch, and instinctively you grabbed it. You liked the feel of him against your fingers. Even with his half undead existence, his body felt human as ever. You sensed the blood pumping through his cock, and could almost smell it through the thin skin. Big hands remained nearly lukewarm on your chest; their gentle squeezes were certainly stronger than your daydreams concocted. Full lips didn’t skip over the bite mark on your neck, kissing upwards and licking the dried blood. The feeling of his tongue against your skin sent chills down your body. You needed more of him. You continued lightly touching his cock, sometimes slipping lower to the ball sack underneath, which caused several deep groans.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned in your ear, still fondling your breasts. “So addicting,” he went back to kissing your neck, “I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

“I don’t want you to stop.”

You brought him into a kiss, and you're thankful he didn't pull away. His plush lips caressed yours, carefully opening them with a small flick on your bottom lip. Blood tinged your lips, sliding from one tongue to the other, but you liked it. That undeniable hunger for flesh and blood came over you; you growled and sunk further into his kiss. You didn’t know if a half-zombie could eat another half-zombie, but you found his taste to be particularly intoxicating. You pushed yourself against him, roaming his body with your free hand to unzip his jacket There, you found his bloodied black sweater where zombies bit into his torso. You didn’t mind it. This new discovery only aroused you more. It was as if he'd opened the floodgates repressing your desires. You couldn’t stop yourself.

"Let's get rid of this," he growled between kisses.

He took the collar of your tanktop and tore it open easily. Gwinam groaned at the sight of your tight white bra, which squeezed your breasts more than you liked. He kissed fiercely along them, even giving a bite that pinched you, groping and squeezing them. You kept your hand on him, his shaft growing even harder while you jerked him. The touch made your sex clench within you, and your clit throbbed from the newest sensation. Gwinam roughly tugged down your bra, so your tits spilled over the wire supporting them. He stopped kissing you to admire the soft mounds filling his hands. You whined as he grazed his thumbs over your nipples, the two peaks hard against the rough pads.

"Fuck," he moaned, kissing one of them, "They're exactly how I imagined them to be. So big and soft. I could suck these all day." He took it in his mouth, rolling his tongue around it and sucking hard. He did this to each one since you squirmed at the mixture of pain and pleasure. "You can't imagine," he grunted, nipping at your tits, "How many times I felt like ripping your shirt open to play with them…How many times I thought of taking you…fucking you…raping you…"

"Gwinam…" you whimpered at his words, the filth causing you to stroke him faster. Droplets of precum stuck to your hand and slickened your motions. This only amplified your arousal.

"Like today with Jisung," he flicked his tongue over the very middle, which sent shocks of pleasure down your body. "I saw you standing there watching me hit him. I saw how you panted and bit your lower lip. You were touching yourself, and I wanted more than anything to fuck you. I wanted to chase you down, rip off your panties and have my way with you…whether you wanted it or not. I don’t care anymore.” He sucked particularly hard on one nipple, then came back up to you, “I’m the boss here now. I can have whatever and whoever I want, especially you.” He cupped your chin for a hard kiss, “I should’ve fucked you there. I would’ve given you the fucking little teases like you deserve.”

"What stopped you?" You asked him breathlessly, sliding one hand over his shoulder to feel more of him. You started pumping him faster. "Hm? What stopped big bad Gwinam from fucking the shit out of me right outside our school? You could've tossed me on the floor, fucking me into the dirt or into the bushes with your hand over my mouth-"

He cut you off by grabbing your throat. The slender digits squeezed both sides of your neck, cutting off air but not hurting you. The pain came from the harsh slap that went across your cheek. When you cried out, he did it again to the opposite cheek. He stared at you for a moment, surveying the need written on your face. Your clit throbbed for his attention, hoping your grinding hips might clue him into that. He then slapped you again, then kissed you roughly.

"You filthy slut," he grunted against your lips. "You like that, huh?” he smacked you again, “You like being hit?”

The truth was: yes, you did. The stinging pain mingled with the desire burning inside you. Being in his strong grasp, pinned by his long body, you knew you could easily escape him. This elevated, evolved being you’ve become came with a strength you’d never known before. It made you invincible. Breaking away from him wouldn’t be a problem, yet you don’t push or thrash in his clutches. You instead spread your thighs and begin pumping him once more. From his heavy breathing, you knew you’d gotten the effect you wanted.

“Let me see for myself then.” He stuck his hand under your skirt and roughly pushed your panties aside. You gasped from the sudden invasion of his fingers on your sex. Boys touched you there before, but not like how Gwinam did. Three fingers cupped your dampening center to rub carefully up and down; he didn’t care if you let him or not, your pussy was his now. “Oh, you do enjoy this kind of thing,” he sneered, releasing your throat and grabbing at your hair instead. A quick tug and a forceful pull brought you to your knees in front of him. “I’m going to show you what I would’ve done if I’d caught you. Open.”

He prodded his tip to your lips, which opened right away. The taste of salty precum slid over your tongue and savored the sticky substance. A huge part of your fantasies finally came true. Gwinam kept his hold on your hair while he guided you over his hips. The girth of his filled your mouth completely, and his head hit your throat once or twice. It’s exactly how you imagined. You sucked the hard muscle firmly, a move that made Gwinam groan. You wanted to please him; you wanted his approval and satisfaction. It became harder to breathe once he forced you right up to his base. You gripped your knees tightly as pain started burning your throat and chest. Inhaling through your nose, you tried your best to breathe as Gwinam’s cock nearly suffocated you. You loved it. Something about his dick blocking your airway, causing you to gag and choke on it excited you. Your eyes teared up whenever he held you to him for too long, only moving his tip from your throat in short strokes. Yet, you did not object or force him away. You hummed in your throat as he moved in and out. When he mumbled about enjoying it, you kept on going. Streams of his precum and your saliva started dripping from your mouth, leaking through the corners. You pointedly rocked backward and forward so your tits jiggled for him, and you saw him eye them right away. When he pulled away, streams of it came out and you gasped for air.

“Look at you,” he groaned, tapping his wet cock on your lips and cheeks. “You love choking on dick,” he sneered, pushing his tip into your mouth once more. He kept you still with one hand under your chin and the other on the back of your head. More tears spilled down your cheeks as he fucked your throat. You started playing with your nipples, and moaned around his shaft. “Your mouth is fucking heaven,” he moaned, “Like a silk toy. Because that’s all you are…A mindless, stupid fuck toy for me to use whenever I want.”

Your muffled moans made him laugh. “And, to think, what I’ve become gives me so much more stamina than before,” he continued, shoving himself fully inside. “I can do all the dirty things I’ve wanted to do with you, and never get tired,” he withdrew himself to let you breathe, “And you know what that means, right?” As you tried swallowing the thickness in your mouth, he said, “It means you’re going to learn what happens to sluts who think they can flash their tits and ass at me. You thought you could flaunt those thighs and those tits and that ass and I’d do nothing about it? Hm?” He plunged his cock right back into your mouth, laughing as you cried. “And there’s nobody around to stop me; nobody to laugh at me about it. It’s only you and me, and you make me horny nearly every second of the day.” He thrusted rapidly, drowning out your cries with his moans. “That means you might as well not wear anything at all.”

He pulled out a final time, and watched you sputter and gasp for air. You massaged your throat, which felt hoarse and ached. Gwinam tugged your head back, and rested his balls right on your mouth. You knew exactly what to do. You took one in your mouth for a tender suck, licking your tongue over the curves and skin. Gwinam stroked himself slowly as you tongued his balls; he occasionally grinded into your face so you’d swallow the whole thing. Little moans vibrated over the sensitive skin, and Gwinam gritted his teeth. You grabbed his thighs for some stability, a thing he did not deny you, and buried your face further into his crotch. Gwinam pulled his balls away and had you lick his shaft up and down while you fondled them instead. Your pussy became so wet, you felt your juices sliding between your thighs. You loved how he used you. You loved giving yourself over to him entirely, and being the sex doll he wanted. Gwinam is the only boy you ever considered yourself fucking this way; you knew he had the ferocity, the depravity, the perversion to do it how you’d wanted. Other boys you’d managed to hook up with always showed hesitancy. Not Gwinam. You’ll be his whore and nothing else.

That was what you wanted.

Long, drawn out moans and panting preceded the thick, hot semen suddenly filling your mouth. You eagerly and greedily swallowed the substance going down your throat. It tasted delicious. Whether it was being undead or because it was Gwinam, you swallowed his whole load. Gwinam’s orgasm made him push harder and faster, making your neck and jaw burn from the pain. He didn’t stop until each drop left his tip and into your mouth. You swallowed whatever he left, even opening your mouth to let him squeeze it onto your tongue.

“You’re the perfect cum dump,” he breathed, running his tip over your lips so you’d lick off the droplets remaining. When he spotted worry in your eyes, he laughed, “Don’t worry. There’s more where that came from. Stand up,” he ordered, lifting you with little effort, and turning you around.

Excitement brought out your smile as he forced you to bend over. Your mind whirled from the thoughts going through your head. Spreading your legs, you arched your back slightly for him to see underneath. He lifted up your skirt to show your panties, and the cold air touched over your sex. No doubt he saw the wet spot pooled right in the center, since he then cupped it in his hand. Long fingers rolled up and down each inch of your sex, and stopped right at your clit. Your cotton panties, white and cheap, must be almost see through with how wet you’d made them.

“Your pussy is so fucking wet,” he moaned, one finger finding your clit and teasing it gently. “I thought about it so many times. Even today, when I jerked off during lunch, I thought of your sweet, tight cunt.”

“And I thought of your dick in it,” you admitted, whining when you felt his finger push delicately against your panties. “I want it so bad. I can’t think about anything else when I’m…I’m around you, oh fuck…”

His fingers teasing your clit only caused more wetness to develop. Gwinam then took both sides of your panties and threaded them between your buttocks and folds. A small bit covered your clit yet exposed it to him at the same time. While one hand spanked your ass cheeks, the other used the tip of his finger to pass over the sensitive nub. Streams of mewls, cries, and whimpers left your lips. Every little touch to it tightened the ball building inside your loins. He knew exactly what to do, and how to make you whine like a bitch in heat. Gwinam’s constant torture had you clawing the table and wriggling around in front of him. You thought you might cum from just the teasing alone.

“Fuck,” he hissed, “I could feel that pussy fluttering for me already.” He moved his finger side to side and threw down more sharp spanks to your ass. “I bet you’re dying to have me in there, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you sobbed, “Yes, yes, please.”

“Please, what, slut?”

“Please fuck me,” you said, tears brimming your eyes.

“Ummm, no.”

Using both hands, Gwinam did not pull off your panties. He did not slowly peel them off and slide them to your ankles. He took the seam keeping front and back together and tore it apart. The sound of shredding fabric reached your ears. He did not remove the waistband. He only ripped it enough to expose your ass and pussy to him, leaving a long tear that went from back to front. Gwinam left your side and crouched down behind you. You felt him dangerously close to your center; you shuddered when something hot and slippery slide over your clit. Gwinam pulled the lips apart and focused his tongue there. You cried out feeling the tip circle it repeatedly; you grabbed at the table whenever he dipped beneath or on top of it slowly. The obscene lapping and slurping from below added to your uncontrollable moans. When he turned you around, your thighs immediately locked around him and with your own strength, you forced his mouth to take your clit. Gwinam gazed up in amusement, eagerly sucking and licking the cunt right in his face. He didn’t stop you from grinding over his mouth and nose; it’s not as if he’d suffocate. That was a perk of being partly dead, you guessed.

“I’ve wanted this for s-s-so long,” you said, gasping when his tongue entered your clenching and unclenching walls. “Oh god, just like that,” you started fucking his face in return, “Your tongue feels so fucking good! Ah!” his sudden grasp of your thighs with a hard smack let out a sudden squeak from you. “I’ve wanted you to fuck me for such a long time. My pussy gets wet just looking at you. I thought…I thought if I teased you, you’d give in and take me. I would’ve let you fuck me however you wanted, as long as I got your cock inside me.” You gripped his hair, soft and silky in your hand, and cried out from the pleasure he brought. “I saw you beat up Jisung, and I couldn’t help…couldn’t help touching myself to it. You being so big and long and strong-”

Gwinam interrupted you by rolling you backwards so your body curled into a c-shape. He pinned your knees to your chest as he wagged his tongue over your pussy. That’s when you came. In a blinding, gut-tensing, muscle-contracting orgasm, you came right on his face. Gwinam only growled his delight at your cum in his mouth. You bucked your hips around, the table underneath you moving slightly, and pushed into his face more. He sucked up all the juices until your clitoris turned sensitive from your climax; it didn’t stop him. Gwinam kissed down to your ass hole where his tongue moved teasingly before coming back up. You're normally concerned with him going from one hole to the other, but not anymore. You’re dead. What infections could you get from it?

“Looks like,” he said, kissing up the backs of your thighs, “We’re both going to get what we want then.”

With total ease, he pulled you to the edge of the table and onto his cock. Keeping your thighs on your stomach, Gwinam charged into you as he liked: hard and rough. The stings of pain did nothing to you. It only made you want to cum again.

“Oh my god,” he growled, squeezing your thighs tightly. “You really must be a whore to take my dick so well. You’re the perfect fuck hole; the perfect cum dump…and you’re all mine.”

“Yes, yes, I am.”

He grabbed your throat, hovering over you and making you face him as you moaned his name. Your lips parted from your constant moans, Gwinam spat into your mouth. He slapped you when you didn’t swallow it immediately. He did it a second time, and you bent to his whims. Then, he gave you another sloppy kiss. You loved the dirtiness of it all; you craved more and more of it. You’d dreamt of this moment for months; you’d desired, lusted, and fantasized about it. When Gwinam grabbed your wrists to keep you on the table, hungrily kissing you, you almost came again. His shirt brushed lightly on your clit which made you weak and shuddering. Biting down on your neck, you winced from the pain, but you knew it wouldn’t last.

“Push back on me,” he said, kissing down to your nipples where he sucked harshly. “Show me how badly you’ve wanted this dick, slut.”

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you kept Gwinam in place as you pushed your hips into his own. His thick cock stretched you pleasantly, bringing you nothing but pleasure as you drove him deep inside. Gwinam stuck out his tongue to let your nipple brush over the flat part, flicking it once or twice or sucking it for you. You purposefully made them bounce in his face which made him growl and grunt. He let go of your wrists and grabbed your tits. His tongue teasing your nipples and his dick hitting that spot inside your pussy brought you closer to another orgasm.

“Gwinam, Gwinam, I’m going to cum,” you wept, the pleasure overwhelming your body. “Oh fuck, you’re going to make me cum again.”

“Good. Do it,” he gripped you by the chin, “Cum on my dick. Do it. Now.”

The second wave made you scream. You worried undead classmates might hear you, but they must’ve been somewhere else. Not that it mattered. They didn’t touch you. Only Gwinam touched you, and he rode out your orgasm in a few thrusts. Still shivering and whimpering, Gwinam ignored your weakened state and tossed you onto the library floor. On your front, air punched out of you for a second before he was on top of you. Without warning, his fingers entered your ass, and his cock shoved into your pussy. You arched your back for him, nearly dizzy from your orgasms and his relentless abuse of your body. And then he fucked you. He fucked you exactly how you’d always wanted. The depravity of the scene made your head swim in the haze of it all. With his free hand, Gwinam gripped your throat so your head lifted from the floor. The slight pressure cut your airway, but not enough that you’d suffocate completely.

“I’m going to cum in all your holes,” he huffed, his fingers knuckle deep in your ass while his dick filled you. “You’re going to be limping out of this library with cum dripping from you. I only wish everyone was alive…then they can see what a fucking…fucking…fucking whore YN is!”

More cum squirted into your pussy, and you couldn’t be bothered to protest. You accepted every drop. “Please cum in me,” you cried, fists underneath you and humping his cock, “Please. I want you to fill each one, please.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll be more than filled,” he grunted, going faster and harder like before.

In a few more strokes, he finished his second orgasm. You took a moment to notice that he did not need a small refractory period. A surprise perk to being dead, you supposed. Not even taking a moment to breathe, Gwinam removed his fingers from your ass and laid back on the floor. You knew immediately what he wanted. You turned around to stuff his coated cock in your mouth, slobbering over it to make it wet as possible. Gwinam groaned, hands going through his hair as pleasure came over him again. A part of you wanted to stay there, cleaning his cock of your combined juices until he came again, but you knew what your lover really wanted. When his cock was prepared, you turned your back to him and sunk down on it…with your ass. This new tightness had Gwinam cursing and moaning your name. You leaned forward, broken panties and skirt over your hips so he’d have a perfect view of your ass, and bounced as much as you could.

Being undead left you stronger and faster. Before, you could never properly ride a guy. Your body felt too heavy and you worried you’d hurt them somehow. Not Gwinam. He handled you with ease, and you had no trouble riding him. You wanted him to cum again. You enjoyed his deep, throaty groans and the names he called you. He dominated you and you couldn’t help but submit. He went back to smacking and grabbing your ass while you touched your soaked, hard clit again. If anyone came upon you two, it’d certainly be a feast for the eyes. The feeling of him fully driving into you, stretching and filling you, drove you wild. You did whatever you could to milk more cum from him.

“Stay still,” he ordered, and you stopped at once. Luckily, it was for him to continue the pace on his own. “Your ass is as good as your pussy, fuck,” he panted, grabbing your hair to pull you backwards, “I could fuck this forever.”

“I wish you would,” you replied, meeting his hips nevertheless so loud smacking sounds filled the space. “I want to be a good toy and make you cum.”

“Oh my god,” he grunted, “Say that again. Say it.”

“I want to be a good toy and make you cum.”

“Then make me cum, slut. Come on,” he smacked your ass hard, “Make me cum with that fat, round…oh fuck, yes, yes, like that-”

The sheer motion of him cumming in your ass had you joining him. You kept going, not feeling exhausted at all. In fact, it heightened every sense. Everything became clearer, and the hunger nestled inside you had you slamming down on him. Once you drained him of cum, Gwinam still did not stop. He seemed incapable of it, and you did not complain. Rolling you onto your side, hands on your breasts, he used one leg to spread your thighs and sink back into your pussy. He let you continue your third orgasm on your own, rubbing your clit and pinching your nipples. You screamed once more as the climax truly hit you this time. Gwinam smacked your clit a few times during it, the light stings having you saying his name. He put you into a scissor position, the new angle driving home and leaving you senseless beneath him. Squelching sounds told you that his cum mixed with yours, and leaked out of your sex. You almost felt it pooling underneath him in every thrust. The new pace and position had you screaming his name a fourth time, and his own soon followed.

You did this for a while. It felt as if all those months of repressed feelings and sexual frustration exploded into this unrelenting, insatiable bomb. You couldn’t stop. You both bit, clawed, slapped, spat and growled throughout the day. Yes, the day. It was a thing you didn’t think possible until you’d turned into this half-human, half-zombie lifeform. Gwinam took you on every possible surface: the tables, chairs, against bookshelves and cabinets. It continued even against the glass doors where the bloody, snarling, stumbling and shuffling zombies went right by. The most exciting was when he fucked you right in the hallway, having you on all fours as he grunted about people watching you both. Pure bliss. That’s all it was.

Fantasies do come true.

***

A/N: wow, this one is wild! lol it's one of my longer pieces, but I hope you still enjoyed this. It's my first Gwinam fic, and I'm really proud of it. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed it <3

#yoon gwinam #yoon gwinam x reader #gwinam x reader #all of us are dead #aouad #aouad fanfiction #aouad fanfic #aouad smut #gwinam smut #yoon gwinam smut #yoon gwi nam

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Same as it ever was 6

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as neglect, bullying, manipulation, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Between your home life and work, you just can’t catch a break. Especially after you draw the ire of your boss.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen ft. Pete Brenner

Note: have a happy friday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Sunday gives you an excuse to get away. Pete, like a dog with his tail between his legs, doesn't even try to come up with an excuse to 'work'. You take Simone with you to the grocery store, warning the slug that he can handle Malik for a couple hours alone. You notice the pout in his lips but don't acknowledge it.

You don't need much but you take your time. You agree to buy Simone an Archie comic, shrugging off the extra few dollars as you notice her growing restless. You made her leave her book at home. You're happy she loves to read but she can't ignore the world all the time.

"You wanna get lunch?" You ask as you push the cart through the lot.

"Mm, I dunno," she drags her feet, "I'm tired."

"Probably 'cause you need to eat," you judge her with your elbow, "come on, how often is it just the two of us."

She grumbles but you ignore her reluctance. You're in no hurry to get home and you can scrounge enough for a sit down in the diner. It might be the last nice thing you can afford.

You load up the bags on the trunk and drive down the block to the same place you would take Simon when you were still pregnant with Malik. Those days were nice and so far behind you. The memory makes your heart ache.

You open the door ahead of Simone and follow her into the mom and pop shop. You're seated by the window in a booth. You order coffee as your daughter gets an apple juice. You peruse the menu but you're not very hungry.

"Oh, they still have the grilled cheese," you say.

"Yeah…" she continues to read the menu, nonplussed by your suggestion.

You tap your toe and cup your chin as you look out the window. It's a nice day even if you're gloomy inside. You turn back to the table and flip over the menu. 

The waitress returns with your drinks. You sip your coffee before you order a mac and cheese and Simone gets chicken fingers. You hand the menus over and smile at your daughter. She's old enough, she'll catch on soon.

"So, what's your latest adventure about?" You ask.

"Uh, well, I just read one about a knight. She's a girl and she goes off to fight an army of trolls…"

You immerse yourself in her retelling of the children's novel. You don't care, it's better than reality. You giggle and smile as she becomes more animated. She can be so monotone but her passion makes you proud.

A figure approaches, breaking your trance, and you look over expecting the waitress. To your chagrin, it's not.

You grip the edge of the table as Simone's voice peters out and she looks at the man with her cool deadpan. You clear your throat, fighting the urge to reach across and shield her. Mr. Hansen smirks down at you as he glances between you and your daughter.

"Funny running into you here," he snickers, "enjoying your weekend."

"Just having lunch," you say crisply, "hope you're having a good Sunday."

You turn straight on the bench and look at Simone as you gesture for her to face you. She frowns as you try to come up with an escape plan. You don't even know what to say and he's not going anywhere.

"Oh I'm having a wonderful weekend. Look at you, how cute, this must be the spawn."

"Spawn?" Simone murmurs, "hey, what's your deal, guy?"

"Sim," you wave her off, "that's good to hear Mr. Hansen. I hate to keep you so–"

"Room for one more?" He winks.

"Ew, no," Simone speaks before you can, "mom, tell him to go away."

"She's mouthy. Not hard to guess why," he scoffs.

You slide off the seat and stand, stepping between him and the table. You arch a brow, pleading with your hands out.

"Please, sir, we're just enjoying a meal out. I'll see you tomorrow. At work."

He watches you, his amusement playing on his face. He's enjoying seeing you squirm, just like before. He always knows the most sensitive spot to hit. Your kids would be top of the list.

"Tomorrow," he winks as he leans back on his heel, "we got a special meeting, don't we?"

"Sir," you hiss.

He chuckles and rolls his eyes, "alright, ladies, enjoy your lunch."

He backs up and struts away. You don't sit until he's out the door. What on earth is he even doing in a place like this? It's not exactly a Michelin star experience.

You settle back in and swallow, turning to watch out the window. He isn't in his usual suit but still dressed nicely. A peach polo peeking out under a teal bomber jacket and canary pants. Tacky if you say so yourself.

"Who was that weirdo?" Simone asks.

"My boss," you lean back, "just saying hi."

"He's strange. Like the villain in the book I was reading," she scowls out the window, "you need a new job."

You laugh despite yourself, "you have no idea. First things first, I'm starving."

🗄️

You get home, exhausted. You put away the groceries and tidy up. Of course Pete couldn't clean up after making a mess of the kitchen for a simple PB and J. You sigh as you finish and look in on the kids in the living room.

Malik colours as Simone creases her brow at her book. You hear Pete outside working on his Corvette. For a brand new car, it sure needs a lot of maintenance.

You tell the kids you'll be upstairs if they need anything. You go to the bedroom and open the closet. You're so anxious about tomorrow, you may as well get ready to face the music.

You pick out an outfit. Nothing special. You don't have anything fashionable. It's not like you need more than a striped blouse and worn black pants. You just don't want to come back up there to grab it all in the morning.

As you come downstairs, you hear Malik giggling. You peek in through the doorway with your armful of clothing. Pete sits on the floor at the coffee table beside the boy and scribbles with a crayon. He meets your eye as you pass and gives a sheepish smile. You shake your head and keep going.

You open the door to the basement and the cool air sweeps around your descent. You put the outfit on the folding table beside the camping cot. Your first few nights have been less than comfortable. As cozy as your own marriage.

You check the dryer and take out the towels, folding them on the top and stacking them there. You hear footsteps on the stairs. You keep your back to the airy space.

"Hey," Pete says. You're not surprised. He keeps trying to corner you. "So…"

"Busy," you grab a basket and set the towels in it.

"Hm," he stops only a few feet from you, "Simone said you ran into someone. Your boss."

"Yup. Nice guy," you utter dryly.

"I thought Mandy was your boss."

You roll your eyes as you lift the basket and turn, "one of many. She's up in York now."

"Ah…" he hangs his head, gripping one hip, "a lot's changed."

"I'm not in the mood to talk so let's not do this."

He huffs and steps into your path. He puts a hand on the basket. He looks you in the face.

"I will be home every day at six–"

"Too late."

"Please, can't I just try? Can't you?"

"Me? I tried, Pete," you snap, "come home at six anyway. The kids will be happy."

"What about you?"

You stare at him grimly. Your eyes tingle and you look away. Your chest rises and falls.

"I haven't been happy in a long time. Don't think I will be again," you shrug and pull the basket away, striding past him, "I didn't make you happy either, did I?"

He huffs and trails after you as you cross to the stairs. As you go to make your ascent and he grabs your arm and spins you back to him. Before you can react, he snatches the basket from your grip and places it on the stack of rubbermaid bins by the wall.

He puts his hands on your arms and pulls you against him. He leans in and you turn your head, his lips crashing into your cheek. You shove on his chest and growl.

"What are you doing?" You pinch by his ribs.

"Baby, please, let me make it up to you–"

"Don't touch me," you push on him, "get off."

"I love you. I mean it–"

"Stop!" You hit his chest again but he doesn't budge, instead wrapping his arms around you, squeezing the breath out of you. How is he still so strong when you only ever got weaker? "Pete…"

"You can't walk away–"

"You already did," you keep your voice down, mindful of the open door above.

"Let me try. I wanna make love to you–"

"Pfft, yeah right. Go get tested and I might even consider letting you hold my hand," you snarl, "get off of me now."

"Wha– I'm clean–"

"Get!" You bring your knee up and feel it collide with his crotch. He releases you and staggers back, cupping his most precious possession. "You're a dirty fucking weasel."

You turn and pick up the basket and stomp up the stairs as you hear him whimpering. Serves him right. You can't help but smile at the ounce of power you feel in that moment. 

🗄️

Monday morning both too quickly but not fast enough. You get up with the kids and get them ready for school, filling a thermos of coffee for yourself. You drive them to school and send them off with dread in your chest.

For a moment, you idle outside the school. You miss the days when you only worried about spelling quizzes and dodgeball. You hope at least your kids never end up where you are.

You follow the crawl of traffic out of the school zone and reluctantly steer towards work. You yawn and drain half your thermos before you get to the office. As you shoulder your bag and look up at the corporate facade, you feel the world threaten to crumble around you. No, not the whole world, just yours.

You enter behind a few others and try to find your courage in the elevator. You peek over at your coworkers; you recognise two but the other you don't know. There's not much workplace camaraderie, more of an understanding to get your work down and clock out.

You follow them out and go to your desk. You sit and pop the lid off of your thermos. Just enough to get you through this. You don't unpack your lunch, certain you won't be eating it there.

You turn on your PC and sign in. You're in no hurry to get started on work. Your calendar pops up with the internal schedule reminder. There it is, a meeting in ten minutes. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You get up and go to the bathroom. You can do this. You dealt with your scoundrel husband, you are still moving, you're not dead in the water.

But how do you survive this? Do you beg? You quit and take the loss? No you can't. You need this job and if you get fired, at least you'll have a hope at severance. 

You avoid your reflection. That old woman isn't you. You go out and check your watch, pausing as the shine of your rings gleam in the fluorescent light. You slide them off and put them in your back pocket. 

You check the schedule one last time and go to tbe meeting room. There's no one there as you find the door shut. It's clearly empty on the other side of the windowed walls. You lean against the plaster and tap your sole.

"Ah, there she is. How's it goin', toots? You need some chamomile? The chairs sure are comfy, aren't they?" Mr. Hansen struts down with his hands in his pockets.

"Sir," you greet flatly. He's mocking you. Jokes on him, you're always tired. 

"Come on," he twists the handle and swings the door open so that it bounces on the hinges, "get moving."

You don't react to his crass tone. You merely step into the room as the light flicks on as the censor picks up your movement. You walk along one side of the table as Hansen shuts the door.

You hover behind a chair as he goes along the wall and tugs each cord to repel the blinds down, blocking out the hallway. Uneasiness bubbles in your stomach as you watch him. You expected him to make your humiliation public.

"Have a seat, honey buns," he faces you, approaching the other side of the table.

You sit and fold your hands on the table top. He has no paperwork, not even a computer. You wonder what exactly is going on. 

"Is someone from HR–"

"Look, let's keep the sticklers outta this," he waves you off, kick one foot out as he shifts his weight to one hip, "unless you really want a disciplinary slip. Me, personally, I can't be fucked with that paperwork."

You frown and flatten your hands on the table, trying to keep your anxiety from showing. He looks at the gesture and tilts his head. His cheek dimples and he snorts.

He doesn't comment. Not at first. He paces up and down the table and bites his thumb. 

"Alright, let's get to business," he stops at the end, close to the corner, "what are you willing to do to keep this job?"

"Sir?"

"Pretty daughter you got. Probably eats up that paycheck in no time. All those cute shirts and ugh, the growth spurts–"

"Mr. Hansen," you swallow, "please, I don't think my family has anything to do with this."

"They have everything to do with this," he insists, "let's not pretend."

"I'm not– I'm sorry I fell asleep. It won't happen again."

"I gave you an out. All you had to do was put your hands down my pants and you could've napped in the boardroom. No problem. I do it all the time," he snickers, "but no, you're a stubborn little bitch. Makes me wonder what the old man sees in ya. Really, cause a tight ass ain't fun unless you get inside–"

"Mr. Hansen," you exclaim, revolted by his lewd words.

"Whatever he's doing, he's not doing it right. You need to loosen up, toots," he runs his thumb across his mustache, "and that little girl won't be so proud of mommy if she ends up working at Burger King like some stoner teenager–"

You sputter, heat creeping up the nape of your neck and speckling down your body. You shake your head. Did he know or is it a lucky guess? Either way, you don't have the energy for this. You're done being a joke for men.

"Just spit it out. What do I have to do?" You sneer as your hands ball.

His lips slant and he smothers a noise in his throat. He slowly walks closet until he's right beside you. You turn the chair to face him as he leans down and puts his hand on yours. He unfolds your fingers and feels along the indents left by your rings.

"Looks like trouble in paradise," he winks, "well, I'm the good kinda trouble. Trust me."

You stare at him. You're not as naive as you once were. There's no denial here. This is real life, a bitter pill you need to swallow.

"That's it? A hand job and I keep my job?" You squint.

He laughs and cups your chin, "oh, you think that's it?"

You can't help but let your surprise bleed through. Your not some young hot thing. Is he just trying to rub salt in the wound or is he serious?

"I…"

"Hand, mouth, cunt, ass, tits," he pulls away as he lists of each word, "you look in tact for the most part. But most importantly…" he shoots you with a finger gun, "you're desperate. What more could I ask for?"

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #pete brenner #dark pete brenner #dark!pete brenner #lloyd hansen x reader #pete brenner x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #same as it ever was #the gray man #pain hustlers