#it might not even be him but the voice and description makes me so incredibly hopeful

[jedifarmerr]

Untimely - Joel Miller x F!Reader/OFC (AFAB).

Summary: Joel might have a little crush on his business partner, but it’s no big deal - really.

This can be read as either pre-canon or AU. Reader has a nickname, but physical description is a blank slate

Rating: E (18+ no minors)

Warnings/Tags: Joel’s POV, readers dad used to be Joel’s boss, discussion of absent parents (not reader), very minor discussion of parental death (again not reader), Joel is kinda awkward when it comes to dating, workplace relationship but without power dynamics, squint and you’ll find an age gap (no exact age is stated but she does have a college degree), pining and lots of it, denial of feelings and all that good stuff, and smut in general. I’m not gonna tag everything or this would get way too long but consent is clearly stated and does not have any major triggers (to my knowledge, but let me know if you catch something).

Word Count: 23,000. This was supposed to be a short one-shot, but got out of control. Oops. This is separated into two parts on AO3

Note: I’m back!! I know it’s been a hot minute, but I’m very very excited and very very nervous to share what I’ve been working on in my absence. But here it is!

---

The first full week of September, and Austin was deadlocked in a nasty heatwave. 

Days like this made Joel wish he’d chosen a job that involved a roof over his head – or maybe just a little shade. Anything would be better than being crushed under the weight of the cruel Texas sun as it poured down through the bare-bone house. Still, Joel hammered his way through it. Even as the sun baked his scalp and covered every inch of his skin in sweat. 

Joel flapped his shirt to dry the cotton sticking to his chest like silicone glue. His walk was more so a waddle, which was honestly his fault for wearing jeans. The denim chafed against his thighs while combing the work site for any loose supplies. All he wanted to do was hop into his work truck, blast the air conditioning and leave, but instead he diligently checked between every wooden beam and around every corner. Despite the lack of drywall leaving barely any hiding spots, it was insane how often Tommy forgot a power drill behind a tub of paint or cement. 

Or somewhere else incredibly stupid. 

Nothing major today, though. Just a few nails that jingled around in his tool belt as he stepped out onto the future front porch, immediately spotting Tommy. Kinda hard to miss with his big ass head poking out the driver side window while puffing on his daily post-work Marlboro. 

“The engine was making that funny noise again,” Tommy claimed, his voice echoing across the dirt lawns and unpaved driveways of the brand new subdivision. 

Joel walked past the rusty-white hood, but heard nothing other than the usual ancient roar. There was the radio in the cab playing Foolish Games by Jewel – a favorite of Sarah’s. 

“Funny noise, huh?” He eyed Tommy with blatant skepticism before slumping into the dusty cloth seat with a thunk. “Well, sounds like it’s fixed now.” 

“Oh yeah good as new.” Tommy burned the soul from his cigarette, then chucked the butt out the window. “This thing’s gotta be what - 10? 15 years old?” 

“Something like that.” Joel didn’t know off the top of his head. The truck had been a part of the company even longer than him, meaning it had to be somewhere closer to 15 than 10. From what he could recall it’d been a few years off mint condition even when Danny first hired him. 

“Then, how the hell is it still running?” 

“Danny’s a smart man who didn’t buy a shitty Chevy,” Joel lightheartedly jabbed at his little brother – a self-proclaimed Chevrolet man, but only because of his buddies. “He knew that Ford was better - built tough.” 

“Well, ain’t lookin’ too tough now,” Tommy pointed out and Joel shrugged. 

As long as the truck got him from one place to the next, he didn’t care if it was taped together by spit and gorilla glue. He knew for a fact Tommy wouldn’t complain either if a new one was coming out of his wallet instead. 

Tommy threw the truck into reverse. “I’m telling you now, you’re gonna regret not buying a new one sooner.” 

“What are you gonna do?” Joel snorted. “Put some sugar in the gas tank?” 

“I don’t have to sabotage this piece of shit - it’ll crap out on its own soon enough,” Tommy said. “Hell, it could even happen today.” 

“Better not,” Joel grumbled, but otherwise went quiet. He didn’t know why Tommy had to put that idea in his head. Sarah was waiting for him at the shop. He couldn’t imagine a worse day for the truck to break down. 

For a mile or so, Joel sat on the edge of his seat, carefully listening to the bumps and groans – typical for a truck around Sarah’s age. The engine rattled as Tommy merged onto Highway 183, but it always did when accelerating. He swore it did. 

Whatever – enough. 

There was paperwork to do. Today’s timesheets were in the glovebox, only halfway complete. So, he pulled out the folder and set to work. At least it offered a distraction from the brakes screeching like a horde of bats during rush hour traffic. 

“Did you ever hear from the concrete guys?” Tommy turned down an obnoxiously loud ad for a car dealership in town. 

Grunting, he curtly nodded. His pen found Harry’s Concrete at the bottom of the sheet and promptly scratched it out with scathing red ink. Just seeing their name triggered a sour taste in his mouth. 

He was used to the concrete guys being flaky, but not like this. These last couple months had been like dandruff in the winter. Brutal. Today, the bastards didn’t even have the balls to call until after lunch. No excuse, either. 

“Third day in a row,” Tommy just had to say, as if he needed a nudge. “In my opinion - I think it’s time to hire somebody else.” 

“Well, you know who to share that opinion with, and it ain’t me,” Joel chided – annoyed. It drove him crazy how often Tommy needed to be reminded of simple things, like what Joel’s role in the business entailed. For God sake – it’d been over a year now since he became a partner in the company. 

Joel could initially understand the confusion. After all, Danny had run the business as a one-man show and everyone, including Joel, thought his daughter would fully take over once he retired. Danny had always said that was the plan anyway, and even named the place: Teddy’s Company. 

Originally, Joel had thought Teddy was her real name until three years ago when he finally got the chance to meet her. But how was he supposed to know when Danny never called her by anything else? It wasn’t like Joel had known much about her back then either, and what little he did came from Danny’s vague and blue-moon updates. 

College is going well. 

Her new job’s treating her good. 

She moved into a new place, seems to like it. 

Short – brief. Some people probably thought Danny was being crusty but that wasn’t the case. No, Danny was never rude or mean, just quiet. A man of few words who on his more mute days could even make Joel look chatty. 

Before meeting her, Joel used to wonder what she’d be like. His future boss. There was a mystery around her that made her seem almost mythical, an enigma. She was like Willy Wonka with her name plastered all over the place: on his shirts, the side of the truck, front and center of the shop. But Joel had no idea who she was. 

Even with a gun to his head, he couldn’t have picked her out of a crowd. Or even a line-up. The only picture he’d seen of her was in a popsicle frame on Danny’s otherwise bare desk: The two of them at a petting zoo where she couldn’t be older than six. 

Without much to go by, Joel had simply assumed that she would look and act, at least somewhat similar to her dad. He’d built Teddy up in his mind as a strong, burly woman who was gruff around the edges. Someone with a sailor’s mouth and stubby fingernails embedded with dirt and grit and grout.

Instead, they were fake and baby pink. She looked like she had never changed a tire in her whole life. 

She probably hadn’t, but she was without a doubt smarter than Tommy and him combined. A graduate from some fancy university in California with an equally fancy business degree. Charming with a nice, smooth voice perfect for sales. If she went to a random street corner to sell bags of cow manure she could sucker anyone, even him, into waiting in line to buy one. 

She was down-right impressive. Finances, pitches, and permits, she could do it all. However, the other side of the business – the manual labor, a little more dirty. 

Joel had not a doubt in his mind that she had the ability to learn it, but did she want to? 

Hell no. 

For one, she had this irrational fear over being electrocuted. Back before Danny retired and she first started working at the front desk, Joel had walked in on her changing out a lightbulb, and you would’ve thought a snake had popped out of the ceiling. He’d mistaken it for a fear of heights until a few months back when Sarah refused to let him shower during a rainstorm. Sarah had looked hysterical using her lanky-arms to body-block the stairs, warning him that he’d get fried if he went up there. 

“Don’t you know dad, lightning can travel through plumbing? Teddy was telling me all about it today.” 

Joel didn’t have a clue where that particular fear stemmed from, but her vendetta against attics, now that he could understand. After all, she’d probably still be in California if not for her dad’s accident. 

It was never Danny’s plan to retire so early. Despite the appointments and constant physical therapy, it’d still caught Joel by surprise, though not as much as Teddy’s offer to run the business alongside her. Together. 50/50. Sure, it came with this boring paperwork, but a bigger paycheck as well. Only a fool would’ve turned that down. 

Besides, promotion or not – he would’ve stayed and worked for her, regardless. 

—

Back at the shop, Joel would usually help Tommy unload the truck, but not today. 

Instead, Joel tucked the file under his arm, hung his tool belt on the rack, then made his way through the garage. He entered through the back door, letting it slam behind him. The cool air greeted him, tingling his tacky skin and he shivered. 

The vents rumbled inside the white hallway walls, echoing around the shop. Along with two voices coming from the lobby. When he heard Teddy’s laugh, he ran a quick hand through his hair, fixing the damp strands away from his forehead. 

He rounded the corner and Teddy was at her desk. Everything from her neck down was cut-off by the high-glass counter, making her look like a floating head. A very nice-looking floating head or a nice head to look at or -

Whatever. 

She was smiling at him – that same honey-golden smile that welcomed him every morning. The same smile he wished was here to welcome him every evening, as well. But with how late he worked most days, it was a hit or miss. He could never guarantee she would still be here, except on the days with Sarah. 

“You’re late,” Sarah said before he could even say hi. 

Joel glanced at the clock above the front door. 5:45. 15 minutes. 

“Barely.” Anything less than thirty was a win in his book. It didn’t matter that Teddy chose to stick around and keep Sarah company, he wouldn’t push it. She was his business partner – not a babysitter. 

“Still late.” Sarah stepped away from Teddy’s desk with her arms crossed menacingly over her chest. If not for the twitch of her lips, she would’ve appeared deadly serious. The girl never could keep a straight face though for more than a second. 

“Let me guess, you’ll forgive me if we can get McDonald’s on the way home?” 

Bingo. Sarah tapped on the tip of her nose and Joel huffed a laugh. 

“Well, Uncle Tommy drove, but we can ask-” 

“We?” Sarah looked at him like he was crazy before shaking her head. “I think I’ll handle this one on my own.” 

“What’re you trying to say?” He asked and her lips curved into a half-cocky, half-play smirk that screamed teenage girl. A stage of life he felt rather unprepared for, even more so than diapers and potty training and 6th grade math. The teenage years were bound to be harder than statistics and exponents and long division. 

“Come on, dad. When has Uncle Tommy ever said no to this?” She showed off her best puppy dog eyes and alright – yeah, poor Tommy didn’t stand a chance. 

But Joel didn’t tell her that. He couldn’t. He was too stunned that the little girl who used to hide behind his legs at the grocery store was the same one who was strutting down the hallway now without even glancing back. 

He shook his head in disbelief and looked over at Teddy. “I don’t know where all this confidence of hers has come from recently,” he said, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the now-shut door. “But I’m guessing it has something to do with you.” 

“Me?” She fluttered her lashes like she was clueless – definitely something she wasn’t. 

“That’s right,” he replied as he approached her desk. Her area always smelled clean and homey like fresh laundry in a field of wildflowers. The last thing he wanted to do was invade her perfumed bubble with the stench of his sweat and that specific twang that came from being outside all day. So, when he caught a strong whiff of her perfume, he stopped and propped his hip against the desk before saying, “I think you’re rubbing off on her.” 

“And is that such a bad thing?” She squinted at him and unlike Sarah, she could actually keep a straight face. 

“No.” He firmly shook his head. “In fact, I meant that as a compliment.” 

In an instant, her flat-line lips split into a wide grin. He smiled in return, stupidly pleased with himself for making her light up like that. His gaze momentarily dropped from her lips to the single button left undone on her shirt. The charcoal gray fabric shined in a way that reminded him of moonlight over Travis Lake. It looked soft and smooth as butter. And not to mention expensive. Joel bet if he touched it, even so carefully, the material would immediately snag under his callouses. 

Teddy motioned for the file and when he handed it over, he felt a draft under his armpit from the hole in his shirt. He glanced down at his jeans, covered in dirt and mud and sawdust. Filthy. He felt a twinge of self-consciousness. It was hard not to feel like a mess next to her sometimes when she was always dressed so goddamn professional with her pressed slacks and tucked in shirts. Anyone who saw her would think she worked for some big corpo with a koi pond in the lobby. Not a Morton building with more garage than office space. 

“They didn’t show?” 

Teddy’s voice jolted his attention back to her face. Her lips were pinched, her cherry red fingernail was bleeding into his own pissed-off pen marks. He mentally cursed himself for being too wrapped up in his own stupid head to warn her about the concrete guys. Good going, idiot. 

There was nothing he could do about it now, except frown and shake his head. “They called and said-” 

“Let me guess, they’ll be there first thing tomorrow?” She bitterly scoffed, clipping the folder shut. The manila spine crunched under her grip before she abruptly turned away from him to face the wall of cabinets behind her. She never said it out loud that it bothered her, but clearly it did and rightfully so. 

Working here this long Joel had witnessed these same people treat her dad with respect only to now try and walk all over her. He found it complete and utter bullshit, but was it a surprise? Sadly, not really. Enough years around construction sites and his tinnitus resembled cat-calls more than a compressor. 

Still, he fucking hated it. His left eye flinched watching her file away the folder in silence. The protective lobe in his brain flared as his fingers curled and burned into a fist at his side. God – he wanted to go to Harry’s Concrete and give that bald loser a piece of his mind and maybe a black eye, but he didn’t. 

He wouldn’t. 

No – instead, he continued to bite his tongue until his mouth flooded with the taste of pennies. He’d become used to the tang of copper in his mouth after the roofers, the plumbers, even the electricians that tried her in the past. The only reason he held himself back was because of her. Because she asked him to let her deal with it, and she was perfectly capable of handling things herself. Better than him at it, in fact. 

Teddy slammed the drawer shut, rattling the entire cabinet. “I’m not gonna fire them.” 

“Okay,” he said without having to think twice. He didn’t expect her to fire them, honestly.  She’d explained to him before that she’d never burn bridges prematurely. The grass was not always greener on the other side, especially not in Texas. Especially not in this line of work. 

“Or - I should say I’m not going to fire them yet, anyway.” Her voice was steady – determined. “But one more and it’s over. I’m gonna let Harry know that he’s on his last strike when I call him tomorrow.” 

“Give ‘em hell,” he encouraged her. Whatever she said in those calls had, so far, been enough to whip everyone who crossed her into shape. Just once, he wished he could be a fly on the wall to witness her in action. She didn’t look particularly tough, but he imagined her being like an asp caterpillar, fuzzy and harmless until poked.

She didn’t linger on the topic, and instead asked about his day. He did the same. Neither had much to report outside the usual. 

“So, how was Sarah today? Did she talk your ear off about the homecoming dance coming up?” 

She giggled, gathering up the papers on her desk and stacking them into a neat pile in the corner. “How did you know?” 

“Cause she found out Monday, and hasn’t talked about anything else since.” 

“Oh and it’s only just begun,” she said with a smirk. “Welcome to your life for the next few weeks, Joel.” 

Joel scratched at the spot where his temple was already beginning to throb. Why did they have to announce it so early? It was great seeing Sarah so excited, but she kept asking him about his own first homecoming. He hated lying to her, but he couldn’t very well tell her the only thing he remembered was Rachel Borthwick and how she let him feel her up – the first boobs he ever touched – underneath the gymnasium bleachers. The thought of Sarah being that same age made him want to throw up. 

He swallowed the thought before it came out all over her desk. “Were you the same way at her age?” 

“Oh yeah. I’m sure if you asked my dad, he’d tell you I was worse.” She snorted, almost seeming embarrassed by her younger self. “For some odd reason, I had it built up in my mind that it’d be like that prom scene from Grease. Minus the broadcast and all that-” 

“Wait, your dance wasn’t on the news?” He tried to keep a straight face, but he was just as bad as his daughter. 

“Shut up.” She playfully shoved his arm and he rubbed it like it hurt. She rolled her eyes, but continued anyway. “My dad didn’t have the heart to tell me, so it was a pretty huge letdown when they didn’t even play Born to Hand Jive. I think I even requested it.” 

“How did you survive?” 

“It’s a miracle,” she said, and he huffed out a laugh. Three years later, and she still surprised him with every new story she chose to reveal. 

There was a split-second where the only sound in the room came from the buzzy-white fluorescent lights above him. Teddy stole a quick glance towards the hallway, as if checking if Sarah was back. She had still not reappeared and he wondered if Tommy had baited her into helping him unload the truck or maybe just sticking around to talk. 

Teddy clicked her fingernails on the counter in front of him. “Real quick, I wanted to ask,” she said before clearing her throat. “Have you and Sarah talked at all about dress shopping?” 

Joel shifted back a step, his boots scratching against the cheap, gray carpet. “Dress shopping?” He forced the words from his throat, then shook his head. He looked away, feeling a pit in his stomach that reminded him of Muffins for Mother’s Day in elementary school – Mommy & Me at the daycare. 

Again – dress shopping was another one of those things girls usually did with their mom’s, but Lisa wasn’t meant to be a mom. She’d even said so herself in the note she left next to her engagement ring on the day she vanished with their dog. Joel wished his own mom was still around to help fill in when the gaps felt too big for him, but sadly, she had passed away before Sarah turned 4. Since then, it’d only been just Tommy and him. 

“The only reason I ask is because,” Teddy started, clutching at the dainty gold chain around her neck, “Well, she sorta asked me to take her.” 

“Oh.” Joel didn’t know what else to say. Not that it offended him or anything petty like that. God no – he wasn’t delusional enough to think that he would be Sarah’s first choice when it came to fashion. After all, his idea of dressing up was a flannel and whatever jeans were clean. Teddy made a lot more sense than him. 

“I didn’t give her an answer, just so you know. I wanted to check with you first.” Her voice was rushed, slightly pitchy, and he realized this was the first time he’d ever seen her even remotely nervous. She must be just as cautious as him about crossing whatever line was supposed to exist in this…relationship? Dynamic? 

Joel smiled at her, softly, hoping to ease her anxiety. “Well, thank you,” he said and she appeared to relax at his calm tone. “I have no problems with you taking her, as long as you wanna do it.” 

“Of course, I want to, but are you - are you sure? I mean, you could always come with us if you want. We could all go together?” 

The offer was tempting, but he declined. He knew Sarah would enjoy it being just the two of them. It could be girl time or whatever. 

Teddy pulled out her planner to check on what dates would work best when Sarah came back in. Once she heard the good news, the victorious grin on her face somehow grew even bigger. The last time he saw her that excited was when he surprised her with tickets to Six Flags for her 11th birthday. 

Teddy and her started to discuss which stores to hit and what mall would be best, basically a foreign language to him. He should’ve started on closing duties, but instead he found his gaze drawn to Teddy. How she appeared equally as thrilled as Sarah. He always could tell when she was excited by the way she talked with her hands. That smile was downright infectious and – 

He noticed Sarah watching him. Her quizzical eyes were glued to his face. Shit. He was staring. Quick. Joel forced a smile at Sarah that hopefully said nothing-to-see-here. He didn’t stick around to wait for her reaction and instead, fled into his office. 

For a few minutes, he pretended to check over files and went down the list of closing duties, completely avoiding them until the only thing left was setting the alarm. Finally, he dared to look in their direction again. When he saw Sarah’s focus was entirely on Teddy, the tension drained from his shoulders. 

He thought he was in the clear. 

—-

“Dad, do you think Teddy’s pretty?” 

Joel’s head whipped up and a sharp, pointy fry was lodged into the back of his throat. It burned and stabbed its way down to his esophagus. For a second, he thought he was going to choke and die at his own dining room table from a McDonald’s fry. 

“What?” His voice crackled like sandpaper from holding in a cough. 

“She asked if you thought Teddy was pretty?” Tommy repeated, loud and clear with a smug grin that he didn’t even try to hide behind his Big Mac. 

Joel’s gaze flickered from one set of brown eyes to the next. He was cornered, his back against the bay window. No way out and no one to blame but himself for this mess. He was, after all, the dummy who got caught. 

Joel held up a waiting finger, then slowly sipped on his coke to calm his burning throat. He wiped his mouth with a napkin as he wrapped his head around what to say. Lying was out of the question. It seemed more damning than the truth. 

The thing was – there was nothing wrong with finding her attractive. It didn’t have to mean anything. It wasn’t like she was asking if he liked her. Not that he did like her. Well, maybe just a little. Just a teeny, tiny crush but it was nothing really. Stupid, honestly. For the most part, he could ignore it. 

Joel cleared his throat and gave a casual shrug. “Uh yeah, she’s uh - she’s pretty.” 

Despite his best attempt at cool, Sarah’s lips still flickered. Only the corners, as she continued to bathe her fries in a pool of ketchup. 

“Have you ever thought about - maybe asking her out?” 

A deep laugh barked in his ears and bounced around the tile floor like spiky ping pong balls. “Come on, Teddy’s way out of his league.” Tommy’s hand collided against his shoulder with a hard thwack. It slightly stung. 

But Joel didn’t take it too seriously. Tommy hassling him over Teddy was nothing new. Ever since she started working the front desk, it’d been Tommy’s favorite gag. In a weird way, Joel considered it a good thing that he saw it as one big joke. If Tommy had any idea about his silly crush, he would’ve kept his mouth shut instead of teasing him. Tommy might’ve been a lot of things, but he wasn’t cruel. 

Sarah didn’t seem to care whether it was a joke or not and scolded her uncle from across the table. She gave him a hard glare before turning back to Joel. She blinked expectantly, not letting him out of this. 

Joel sighed. “Sorry, kiddo, but I don’t think so.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because.” He licked his teeth and sucked a stuck piece of meat from between his molars. There was a laundry list of reasons, but he went with the least complicated. “We work together.”

“So? Two teachers at my school are dating, and it’s no big deal. They didn’t even get in trouble.” 

“Wait,” Tommy piped in with a mouthful of bun and sauce. “Isn’t she dating someone?” 

Joel swallowed down the salty taste in his mouth, bitter like vinegar. He nodded. “Yeah, I think so.” 

“You think so?” Sarah looked at him with clear suspicion. “So, she didn’t tell you that.” 

“Well…no. But-” 

“Then, how do you know?” 

Joel crinkled the empty wrapper into a tight ball, then tossed it into the paper bag. “Somebody sent her flowers at work. Nice ones too.” Too grand to fit in her car, so instead they lived and died in the tiny break room directly across from his office. 

“When?” 

Three months. “I don’t know, not that long ago.” 

“Well, how do you know they weren’t from her dad?” Sarah asked, not backing down. “Or maybe her friends sent them?” 

Joel shook his head, recalling the stupid plastic holder that had poked out at him like a giant weed among the long stem roses. “The card said Happy Anniversary.” 

At that, Sarah sank into the chair like a deflated balloon. She shoved a whole chicken nugget into her mouth – no sauce. Each dry crunch-crunch grated against the silence. 

This recent interest in his love life was new. He wondered if it had something to do with her age or maybe all those rom-coms she watched. She’d never cared about him dating or – she did try to set him up once, a few months ago, with her best friend’s recently divorced mom, but when he shot it down she had quickly moved on. 

But she didn’t even finish her chicken nuggets. He noticed a faraway look in her eyes – his eyes, one of the only things she inherited from him. She was somewhere deep in her head, in that big brain of hers that definitely didn’t come from him. 

She did eventually perk up when Tommy brought up the new season of the Bachelor, but still wasn’t her usual self. So after Tommy left, Joel settled in beside her on the couch to watch Friends. This show was like her pacifier. Sick or just a bad day, one of Joey’s jokes could cheer her up instantly. 

Not today, though. A whole episode later, and she’d barely said a word. Barely laughed, which had him really concerned. He got the sense that whatever was bothering her was something bigger than just Teddy. 

“You’re quiet tonight.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and snugged her closer. She collapsed into him like a domino. Full cheeks squished against his shirt. She didn’t respond, and he didn’t press. Only can-laughter existed in the space between them. 

Laying like this reminded him of when she was a baby. So tiny, a full head of hair even then. She would fall asleep on his bare chest while waiting for Lisa to return home from work. Looking back, the signs had always been there that one day she would run. She’d practically lived at her job after her maternity leave was done. Hell, she didn’t even take the full 6 weeks. Post-partum, the doctor called it, it’ll get better in time. But it didn’t. There was no medication cocktail that could make her want this life – that could make her want to stay. 

“Can I ask you something?” Sarah’s eyes didn’t leave Phoebe and Monica. 

“Anything,” he murmured against her hair before placing a light kiss to the top of her head. She no longer smelled of Johnson & Johnson or desitin, but coconuts and lime. 

“Are you lonely?” 

Even with her feathery-soft tone, the words hit him like a sucker punch, square in the jaw. Where the hell did that come from? 

“Do I seem lonely?” The words left him like a reflex, automatic. It was the second time tonight she’d caught him off-guard. 

“I don’t know.” She shrugged, her shoulders sliding along his t-shirt. “Are you?” 

Slowly Sarah lifted her head – her big eyes bore into him and when he could trace every concerned line on her young face, the guilt smothered him like wet mineral wool. It was his job to worry, not hers. 

He urgently shook his head. “No. Of course not.” 

She silently stared at him, squinting as if somehow it would give her Professor X’s ability to read his mind. Clearly, he did not convince her and so he tried again. Harder. 

“Sarah, listen. I am perfectly fine, alright?” He brushed a curly strand of hair from her face, firmly holding her gaze. “If I was lonely, I’d go do something with Uncle Tommy. He’s always asking me to do things after work-” 

“Why don’t you?” 

Joel couldn’t help but chuckle at her confusion. Of course, she wouldn’t understand. Teenagers always wanted to be out somewhere, doing something with their friends.

“Cause I’m old. And I’m tired. And honestly, I’d rather be home.” With you. The last part never slipped through the gap in his bottom teeth. He never wanted to make Sarah feel guilty for leaving him and living her life. 

“You’re such a hermit.” She nudged at his chest, a smile sweeping across her face. Exactly what he’d been missing. 

“I prefer homebody,” he corrected, making her burst into a giggling fit. He waited until she went quiet to say, “Either way - you ain’t gotta worry about me, alright?” 

Once again, her expression turned very serious. Her eyes darted once, twice, across his face. “Swear?” 

“On my life.”

—

Later that night, Joel laid awake in bed fighting to find a comfortable position. Even sprawling out in the middle didn’t work. The sheets were tangled around his legs, his feet – his thoughts equally twisted up from Sarah’s question earlier. 

Are you lonely? Was he? 

Joel had never considered himself to be lonely. Not really. Or not all the time, at least. For the most part, Sarah and work kept him busy enough that he never gave it much thought. 

If he did think about it though, he supposed crawling into bed alone every night could get a little depressing. He was still human, after all. Intimacy was a basic human need. It was just simple biology when he occasionally craved a soft touch or someone to talk with before drifting off to sleep. It’d been a long damn time since he experienced either of those things. 

Maybe Sarah was onto something. Maybe it was time for him to get back out there, but oh God. Just thinking about it made him light-headed. 

Where would he even start?

His last serious relationship was his only serious relationship. After Lisa left, there was hardly any time for that. Being a single dad, dating wasn’t his top priority. 

Sure, he’d managed to squeeze in a few first dates over the years, even less second ones, and he couldn’t for the life of him recall a third. If so, it’d been nothing worth remembering. 

Honestly, the only person he’d considered asking out recently was Teddy. It was just a dumb idea that crossed his mind sometime in late spring when too much tree pollen and dust mites must’ve gotten into his head. He’d luckily come to his senses and fast. A few short weeks later, those damn flowers showed up. 

If he was being honest, no one else really interested him. 

And how could they? 

It wasn’t even just about her looks, she was sweet and smart and surprisingly funny. Joking or not, Tommy was right – she was way out of his league and why was he thinking about this right now? Joel cleared his mind with a hard shake of his head. He needed to stop, get some sleep. He didn’t want to know what time it was already. Without looking at the clock, he flipped onto his side, fluffed his pillow, then shut his eyes. 

Within seconds, Teddy slithered back into his mind with her perfect smile, the delicious scent of her soap, and those jeans she would undoubtedly wear tomorrow. Casual Friday might actually be the death of him. Denim on her hips was seriously a sin.  

Just thinking of her fully-clothed ass made his cock twitch inside his boxers. Somehow that was enough to get him half-hard, the tip snagging over the soft-cotton. 

Joel groaned in unison with the bed springs as he flopped onto his back. His palms itched to reach down and squeeze at his cock for a little relief. But he resisted, and forced his mind to somewhere far less pleasant. Broken wires. Wrong-size headers. Clogged drains. A memory of her gripping a PVC pipe invaded his brain and suddenly, it was her small hands wrapped around him instead. How would she look on her knees for him? Would she be able to fit him all in her two hands? If not, would she use her – 

“Fuck.” Joel gritted his teeth and fisted at the comforter. Get a grip. 

He felt like he was going crazy. Probably from the lack of action outside of his own fist. It was finally catching up with him. Tommy did warn him this would happen and fuck – he hated when Tommy was right. 

Joel thought back to the last time he had sex and cringed. Two years ago, but the memory was tattooed in his brain just like the monarch butterfly on the random woman’s lower back. It happened at a sleazy bar where everyone knew Tommy by name. He’d taken too many shots of Wild Turkey, then found himself fucking the woman in a one staller, quick and sloppy, right next to a clogged toilet. Not his proudest moment. He’d go to the grave blaming the whole thing on Tommy, who treated their rare nights out like the bachelor party he was still pissed off that he didn’t get to throw. 

The truth was though, even before Joel’s current involuntary celibacy, his sex life had been relatively non-existent. 

He hadn’t had sex on a semi-consistent basis since his 20’s. A casual hookup with a lady named Amy, who lived in the same apartment complex as him. No-strings attached. An arrangement born out of pure convenience rather than desire or intense lust. She lived in the apartment below him, and once a week came up after Sarah went to sleep and left before the condom hit the trash can. No surprise it ended once he moved out, and ever since then, it’d been random hookups and one-night stands whenever Tommy and him went out for a night. 

Joel sighed and stared up at the moon-stain ceiling of his bedroom, careful not to make any sudden movements in hopes to fight down his erection. While still and quiet might’ve worked to spook a black bear, his boner was sadly proving more resilient. 

With every passing minute, the warm tingly feeling in his belly spread like weeds through his body. His fingertips down to his toes. Fully hard, now. It became clear ignoring it was useless. He would just have to get this over with, so he could get some sleep tonight. 

Joel forcibly kicked off his blankets, then shoved down his boxers. His cock thwacked against his stomach and the tip was already shiny. He preferred to do this in the shower to avoid a mess, the steady stream of water helping to cover up his dry, cracked hands better than saliva. But something was better than nothing. He spit into his hand until his mouth was dry, then wrapped it around his cock. 

Whether in the shower or in his bed, it didn’t matter, Joel always jerked off like it was a chore. Hard and fast strokes where he could barely catch his breath. No need for soft and sensual, just a tight fist to take the edge off. This way, he found it easier to keep his less than friendly thoughts of Teddy at bay. 

He tried his best not to think about Teddy while doing this because friends don’t imagine their friends while fucking their fist. And that was all she was, all she would ever be – a friend. If he could he wouldn’t have thought of anyone at all, but he needed someone to imagine to get off. 

Instead of Teddy, he pictured a cover model from a 90’s Penthouse Magazine that he’d found in the guest room after Tommy moved out. A pretty brunette with big natural tits, who he didn’t have to work with tomorrow. 

His room steadily filled with the wet slap of his hand, the low thrum of the oscillating fan as he pretended the nameless woman was riding him. He was brutally fucking his fist when the woman shape-shifted into Teddy. So abruptly that he could barely register that it was her taking him down to the hilt. Her rolling her hips. Her fingernails scratching over his ribs, his shoulders, his chest with a little smirk even more sinful than her tight jeans. 

“Shit,” Joel hissed when he realized, but too late – his hips surged forward as he came. So sudden, so fast, it almost gave him whiplash. 

Joel was not usually loud during sex, more of a grunter than anything else, but it had never been so vivid. So real. He could practically feel the wet-heat of her cunt clenching around him. He had to snag his bottom lip between his teeth to keep every needy and desperate sound from bleeding out of his mouth as his cock pulsed and throbbed against his palm. He wouldn’t let himself find out what her name tasted like when he moaned. 

Clearly, this was not the first time she’d popped into his mind and he doubted it would be the last. He wouldn’t feel nearly as bad about it either, but there was a fuck-ton of cum on his stomach. Even a little on his chest. Fuck – he came so hard it made him lightheaded. 

He let the shame simmer down and once he caught his breath, he carefully dug out a travel-pack of Kleenex from his nightstand. He didn’t even wanna count how many tissues it took to wipe the syrupy-hot evidence from his skin. 

He’d be sticking to the shower from now until forever. 

—

The days had come and went and over a week later, Joel had not jacked off again. Not in the shower, and definitely not in his bed. But that had nothing to do with Teddy. Seriously. It was just a coincidence. 

Work had picked up. The heat wave had died out, giving way to more 80 degree days. Fall was fast approaching, by far their busiest season. There was a brand new neighborhood of bland cookie-cutter slab houses that had him working doubles everyday and judging by today, this week would be the exact same way. 

The streets were dark and mainly deserted by the time Joel dropped Tommy off at his apartment complex. Joel glanced at his phone – once again – for any missed calls before heading home. Still nothing. No new voicemails – 0 messages. 

The first and last time he heard from Sarah was after Teddy picked her up from school, right before heading into the mall. He’d told Sarah to call him once Teddy dropped her off, but she must’ve forgot. The same way she always forgot to lock the front door. He would be home in less than 5 minutes or else he would’ve called. But he would rather give her a talking-to in person. 

For a second, he wondered if she and Teddy were still at the mall, but it was late. Nearly 9. 

No one could spend 5 hours there. Hell, he could barely spend more than 2 without going stir-crazy. 

The last thing he expected when pulling onto his street was to see Teddy’s car parked in front of his house. The pearly white shell was perfectly lit up underneath a street light. 

What was she doing here?

He thought she would drop Sarah off and dip after their shopping trip, but obviously not. Dear God, he hoped she wasn’t waiting on him. Joel whipped into his driveway and hopped out without bothering to grab his tool box in the back. 

Inside, the living room was lit up with every lamp turned on, but otherwise empty. It was still tidy from the cleaning he did on Sunday, thankfully. He threw his keys on the console table, shutting the front door with his foot. He heard movement upstairs and headed that way. 

“Sarah,” he called out, mainly to give a heads-up and not scare them. “I’m home.” 

“Finally,” Sarah said as he stepped into her room. It smelled like that Body Works store at Barton Creek that Sarah loved, but always had him leaving with a headache. 

He stayed close to the fresh air and leaned against the door frame. Sarah was perched at her vanity, the counter in front of her completely buried under make-up, nail polish, and a bunch of other crap. 

“Teddy’s helping me decide what to wear with my dress.” Sarah swiveled around in her stool to face him. 

“Yeah, I see that.” Joel looked over at Teddy, who was standing behind Sarah with an earring pinched in each hand. The smile on her face was genuine. If she was in any real hurry to leave she didn’t show it. “When did y’all get back?” 

“I don’t know. 8:15? 8:20? Somewhere around there.” Sarah shared a shrug with Teddy. A little over thirty minutes, not bad. With the mess, he would’ve thought closer to an hour. 

“Dinner took a bit longer than I thought it would,” Teddy explained and his brows furrowed. 

“Busy night at the food court or something?” 

He noticed Sarah and Teddy share a secretive glance, and of course, they didn’t eat at the food court. He should’ve known better than to think Teddy would just take her to Sbarro. But out of every chain restaurant – did she have to pick the damn Cheesecake Factory?

Sarah was raving over the Mac & Cheese balls that definitely cost more than the 10 dollars he sent for baked ziti. Judging by the amount of shopping bags in the corner, Sarah had used her extra spending money on clothes instead of Chicken Costoletta. 

He waited until Sarah turned her back to nail Teddy with a knowing look. She swatted it away like a bothersome fly. She could be so damn stubborn sometimes. 

Later, he would deal with it. Money was not a topic he liked to discuss in front of Sarah. Besides, there were more important things at the moment. 

“So, are you gonna show me this dress of yours?” 

Sarah eagerly nodded and bounced over to her bed, picking up the black garment bag. It didn’t even allow him a peek at the color, not even when she hugged it tightly to her chest. 

“Well, come on - don’t leave me hanging. I’ve been waiting all night.” 

“Dad, you gotta see it on me or else you won’t get the full-effect,” she sassed, a duh implied in her tone. “Go downstairs, you and Teddy can wait-”

“Now, hold on there Sarah. It’s - it’s getting pretty late,” he pointed out, and Sarah’s fraying smile told him that she knew what he was trying to say. He hated disappointing her, but this was the right thing to do. “So Teddy, if you need to go home, don’t feel like you gotta stay.” 

Selfishly, Joel wanted her to stay, but why would she? She had already seen the dress, already given up her entire evening for Sarah. This was a free out, and he expected her to take it. 

Instead, She crossed her arms over her chest like a defiant child. “No way you’re getting rid of me that easily, Joel,” she said. “I’m sticking around to see your reaction.” 

Without giving him a chance to respond, she slid past him, her chest brushing against his arm. She motioned him to follow and he did without question. 

She led the way downstairs as if she’d been here before. But the few times she’d come by before to drop off paperwork she never made it past the front porch. 

His pulse slightly hiked up seeing her in his living room for the first time. Her gaze scanning the camel-colored walls, the pictures of Sarah throughout the years, his guitar that he rarely found time to play. Above the DVD and CD rack was the only real piece of art in the room – if that’s what people would call the painting of waves he’d found at a garage sale, the same one where he got the mismatched pillows on the couch. 

Interior design wasn’t his strong suit, but he was still proud of his home. Proud of himself for buying it on his own, for being able to prove this kind of place for his kid. All of this, from the rug to every decoration and lamp. It was best attempts to make this space feel homey – lived in for Sarah’s sake. She would not be the only kid in class growing up in a bachelor pad. 

“So, this is Joel Miller’s house?” Teddy spun around to face him and he found that she looked really good next to his coffee table. “It’s nice. I like it.” 

“Yeah?” Joel rubbed the back of his neck, toeing the tile-carpet line that separated the kitchen from the living room. 

“Especially the Cowboys decor.” She pointed her thumb at the framed blue star logo that was hung up by the stairs. “Did you know I used to wanna be a cheerleader for them?”

Joel’s mouth went drier than when eating pretzels. He rapidly shook his head, mainly to erase the mental image of her in that skimpy little outfit. It would probably haunt him in his dreams for the rest of his life. 

He cleared his throat and took a seat on the couch. “I’m surprised Sarah didn’t give you a tour.” 

“Oh, she did.” Teddy plopped down on the couch with him, keeping a friendly distance of a cushion. “But don’t worry, the grand tour didn’t include your bedroom. She said that was off limits.” She puckered her bottom lip, pouting as if actually disappointed. 

“Trust me, you’re not missing much.” 

“But isn’t that where the magic happens?” 

Joel accidentally let out a snort. Magic. Nothing close to magic had ever happened in that room, unless what he did last week counted. “I think you’ve been watching too much Cribs.” 

Her lips parted, her eyes lit up with a wild look of amusement. “Does Joel Miller secretly watch MTV?” 

“Only against my will.” He jerked his chin towards the stairs. “She loves all that shit.” 

“Yeah. She did talk a lot about True Life while at din…ner.” Teddy clipped her lips together, catching her slip. 

“Trust me, I didn’t forget.” His tone carried a smug edge, making her huff in annoyance.  “So, how ‘bout you tell me how much I owe you for it?” 

“You don’t owe me anything.” 

“Teddy,” he warned. Still, she insistently shook her head, refusing to make things easy for him. 

“Sorry, but I can’t let you pay me back,” she said. “It wouldn’t be right.” 

“Really? How come?” 

She straightened her posture, the brown leather groaning underneath her. “Well, for one - it was my decision to take her there, wasn’t it?” 

“So?” 

“So, it doesn’t make sense for you to have to pay for something I decided, now does it?” 

Joel licked his teeth at her loop-hole logic. She was eyeing him with a very serious expression, as if this wasn’t over 30? 35 bucks? Hell, there was probably enough in his wallet right now to cover it. 

If this were anyone else, Joel would’ve already said fuck this and drained his wallet of every nickel and dime, just to be safe. He wouldn’t accept no for an answer because he didn’t need anyone’s help or handout. He made enough money to support not only himself, but his daughter perfectly fine. Thank you. 

But this wasn’t just anyone – this was Teddy. Whether it was because she did his payroll or because she was so bullheaded, he didn’t know, but she had a funny way of making him fold. 

“Secondly.” She lifted a second finger before he could raise the white flag. “It wouldn’t be right for you to pay me back for your own gift.” 

Huh? “Gift?” 

She hummed in response. “There might be a little early birthday present waiting for you in the fridge.” 

He couldn’t remember the last time someone, other than Sarah, got him a birthday present. Most of the time, not even Tommy did; his presence was the present or whatever bullshit he said. But she’d thought of him. Him. The idea made his chest begin to swell like metal on a blazing summer day. He ducked his head to hide the heat rising in his cheeks. 

“You didn’t need to get me any-” 

Teddy grasped his arm, instantly turning the rest of his sentence into sawdust. His gaze flickered from her hand on his forearm, to her eyes. She really was beautiful, especially in the warm pool of lamp light in his living room. 

“I wanted to,” she assured him with a voice as soft as her touch. Her thumb gently skimmed over his arm hair and he held back a shiver with the clench of his teeth. “It’s just Classic Vanilla Bean Cheesecake. A little boring, but Sarah said that’s your favorite.”

“It is.” His voice cracked like a pre-teen and embaressed, he averted his eyes. How ridiculous. He needed to get a grip. Pull himself together. He was acting like a fucking virgin. Joel swallowed and stiffly nodded. “Thank you.” 

She gave his arm a small squeeze before pulling away. The spot where she touched him still tingled, still burned. 

“It’s the least I could do, since I’ll be missing it.” 

Joel brushed her off with an easy wave of his hand. Other than work, he didn’t have any plans, so she really wasn’t missing anything. “I think you’ll have more fun in Phoenix, anyway.” 

“Just don’t let Tommy set the place on fire while I’m gone.” 

“Do you have that little faith in me?” he asked – teased. It was only a few days. Leaving Thursday, back in the office by the following. 

She lightly nudged his arm, just as a door opened. 

“Are you ready?” Sarah called out, and his focus shifted to the bottom of the stairs. 

“I was born ready, kiddo. So, come on, let’s see it.” Joel drummed his hands excitedly against his thighs. 

Waiting there reminded him of the fashion shows she used to put on for him. She’d wait at the top of the stairs until he popped in the Whitney Houston CD. For the big finale, they would dance around the living room to I Wanna Dance With Somebody. 

But Sarah didn’t appear in a bright-pink princess costume, but instead a pretty little purple dress. Her heels were real, not made out of cheap plastic or from the Dollar Tree. His little girl looked so grown up. The realization that she was grown up made the back of his eyes burn. 

Joel scrubbed a hand down his slack, scruffy jaw, watching Sarah twist from side-to-side. The shiny material swished around her knees. 

“Baby girl, you look - beautiful,” he said without trying to hide the crackle in his voice. “The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” 

Sarah giggled, almost bashfully. “That’s exactly what Teddy said.” 

“Well, that’s because it’s the truth,” Teddy stated earnestly. Sarah’s entire face lit up and God –  she had such a killer smile. He would never get tired of seeing it.

When Sarah pulled back her hair to show Teddy two different pairs of earrings, she immediately went over to get a closer look. 

Discussing jewelry and lip gloss, Sarah’s shiny wide eyes clung to her every word as if it was wrapped in gold, as if it held some infinite wisdom. It suddenly hit him that he’d never seen Sarah look at anyone like that. Not her favorite teacher. Not her best friend’s mom. Not even Mrs. Adler who lived next door and used to babysit her after school. 

Poor Mrs. Adler, she meant well but Sarah and her could not have been more different. Thinking about it, Teddy was the first woman that Sarah shared anything in common with, who she didn’t have to share with the rest of the class or came second to a friend. 

For once, Sarah had some special bond for herself. 

His breath caught in his throat watching Teddy fuss with Sarah’s dress. Her eyes barely leaving Sarah’s bright face as she untwisted a strap and smoothed out a few spots in the back. For a second, he imagined her here with them every night – thought about how seamlessly she would fit into their lives. 

Holy shit - what the fuck is he doing? Stop it. 

Joel forced himself to look away, pruning those thoughts before they grew. The light, liquid warmth in his chest ran cold. It turned into mercury when it settled in his belly. 

Luckily, Sarah and Teddy were too preoccupied with finishing details to notice him obsessively picking at his fingernails. He didn’t know what got a hold of him.

This was insane. She was his friend, his business partner, and whatever she was to Sarah that was more important than a stupid crush. No – he would not complicate a good thing with his feelings. Feelings she didn’t reciprocate. For God sake, she was dating someone else. Get over it. 

Joel thought it might be a good thing that Teddy would be gone for a few days. More than ever, he needed some distance. Some time to help screw his head back on straight. 

—

Too early on Tuesday morning, Joel sleepily fought the coffee machine until dark liquid gurgled and spewed into the pot. 

“Have you heard from Teddy at all?” Tommy asked as Joel filled up a to-go cup. 

“Oh yeah, hear from her every night before going to sleep.” 

“Really?” 

Joel shoved the coffee pot back inside its home, and blinked at Tommy. “Of course not. She’s on vacation. Why would she call me?” 

He figured she’d brought whoever she was dating on the trip with her. They were probably going to her cousin’s wedding, meeting her college roommates new baby while he was here - in Texas. Alone. When he thought about it like that, it put everything into some much needed perspective. 

Joel didn’t give Tommy a chance to respond before barging out and heading to the garage. He still was not used to seeing her empty desk instead of her warm smile, telling him to have a good day. 

“So, do you miss her, yet?” Tommy asked while loading up the truck. 

“She’s only been gone a few days,” Joel snorted, as if it was a ridiculous question to ask. “Why? Do you miss her?” 

“Miss her coffee, that’s for damn sure.” He grimaced at the cup before taking a tentative sip. “Shit sucks. You add too much water.” 

“I’d like to see you do any better.” Joel obnoxiously slurped on his drink, then winced. It did kinda taste like dirt. “She does make it better,” he conceded. “It’ll be nice to have her back.” 

The distance had been a good thing for him, though. It was much easier for him to think without her dizzying perfume. What happened in his living room had been just a moment of weakness, of panic. Blown completely out of proportion. 

The thing was – he’d always had a crush on her. It was nothing new, and he was perfectly happy with just this. With never being anything more than friends – her in his life, that was enough for him. 

It had to be. 

“Well, speaking of Thursday.” Tommy spoke in a tone that almost always meant he wanted something. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, I gotta leave work early that day.” 

“Why? Got an appointment or something?” 

Tommy shook his head, then spewed a sob story that lasted nearly the entire drive to the site. His buddy Aaron had just broken up with his cheating girlfriend, and needed help moving out of their apartment. Too bad it wasn’t a different one of Tommy's military buddies or Joel would’ve immediately said no, but Aaron actually wasn’t a douchebag. 

“Well, what time would you leave? Cause we gotta finish that block by Friday-”

“She works the night shift, so not until like 3 or 4,” he said, swaying him further. “And Aaron said he’ll pick me up from the site, so you ain’t gotta do anything.” 

Joel shrugged, whatever. Fine. They would just have to work late tonight and tomorrow. 

—-

So far, Thursday had not gone at all like Joel had anticipated. His reunion with Teddy this morning was disappointingly quick. It wasn’t like he expected her to run into his arms and hug him or anything dramatic like that, but he did think it would be more than just a few minutes of small talk where Tommy dominated most of the conversation with his plans for later. 

Which turned out to be total bullshit by the way. 3 to 4 ended up being more like 1:30, ruining his chance to see Teddy this evening. The inspectors would be here tomorrow morning, so the frame had to be finished tonight with or without an extra set of hands. 

Now, at 6:30, Joel was just leaving the site. He picked up Wendy’s to make up for his crummy day, only for the burger to be loaded with pickles and onions when he specifically asked for ketchup only. He still scarfed it down, along with a medium dry on the drive back to shop where the only thing that would be waiting for him was an empty office and a fat-ass stack of paperwork. Some supply sheets that could hopefully be knocked out before Sarah needed to be picked up later. 

He pulled in through the back entrance and was taking his sweet time unloading the truck. Lowly humming Wedding Bells by the great Hank Williams when the door opened with a screech. The sound echoed around the steel walls of the garage and he jerked, nearly dropping a nail gun on his foot. Somehow, he managed to catch it just before it slid off the rack. 

He turned around and - “Teddy?” 

“I was wondering what was taking you so long,” she said in a sweet drawl that made his pulse race for an entirely different reason. 

He stared at her dumbly, blinking rapidly to make sure this was not just his imagination. She was still here. He wet his throat with a hard swallow. “You surprised me.” 

“I can tell.” She giggled and embarrassment swarmed his neck like fire ants. He couldn’t believe she just witnessed him flail around like an idiot. He promptly went back to gathering up the last of the wooden boards and stacking them in the corner. “Did you not see my car out front?” 

“I came in off 77th,” he explained, brushing the dust from his hands onto his jeans. 

“I could’ve helped.” She leaned against the door, opening it wider as he walked over. 

“Nah, I got it,” he said with a casual shake of his head. “Wouldn’t want you to ruin that shirt, anyway.” His eyes dipped over the satiny material, this time a deep maroon.

“It is a great shirt.” She playfully bumped into his side with her shoulder when he stepped inside. The delicious scent of her soap sent an electric jolt up his spine. He matched her steps down the hallway. “What’re you still doing here anyway?” 

“Well, there’s the Fox Ridge pitch tomorrow and there’s two more next week. And I have been gone for like a week.” She tucked herself back behind her desk. “Remember?” 

Oh yeah, he remembered. 

For a few minutes, they caught up on work and talked about homecoming, which was Saturday, and Sarah, who was currently at her friend’s house making posters or whatever for the big game tomorrow. He asked if she enjoyed her trip, which she obviously did from the glow around her. He almost asked about the wedding until he noticed all the files on her desk, the neat stacks of paper labeled with post-it notes that clearly showed she was busy. 

He decided not to be selfish and take up anymore of her time and instead went into his office. 

“Let me know if you need anything,” she told him before he closed the door. He left it slightly cracked in a way that seemed inviting before taking a seat at his desk. He would’ve just left it wide open if he thought it would be possible to focus. But even the back of her head could be enough to distract him. 

Just like the rest of the shop, his office had been recorated by Teddy when Danny retired. He’d actually offered her the office, multiple times, but she refused. She preferred the natural light in the front, and he couldn’t blame her when the one window in here was puny and overlooked the trash cans. 

Without her, Joel would’ve left the walls as blank and as white as Danny, the bookshelves just as bare and dusty, and there wouldn’t be a single lamp, let alone two. But he definitely appreciated the lamps this late in the day when the overhead light would burn too loud and bright. 

Supposedly, she’d gotten them for free from a friend that was moving. He’d believed the story, at first, until one day she showed up with a giant picture of Yellowstone River, two more of different landscapes. A Golden forest. A mountain range. She’d just stumbled upon them at a Goodwill for the same price as a pizza. And then she’d filled the bookcases that framed his desk with architectural books that would likely never be read and tiny fake plants, which he couldn’t kill. Those she’d claimed were found at a garage sale for the magical price of a gift card to her favorite nearby lunch spot. 

She would’ve decorated the office for her dad if he would’ve let her. Danny didn’t care though if she found the space so depressing when it came down to money. But Joel could not find it in him to tell her no when she looked so damn pleased with herself afterwards. She’d done such a nice job that he wished he could use the office more. One day he probably would when Sarah moved out. He had a love-hate relationship with being home alone. The quiet could be peaceful, then other times forlorn. 

After finishing up two supply lists for upcoming projects, Joel went to start on a third when his door jarred open with a soft knock. Teddy was hovering around the threshold with a file in one hand. 

“Are you busy?” 

Joel shook his head, shoving the folder aside then signaling her to come in. She stepped inside, nudging the door shut with her hip. It didn’t latch. No one else was here, otherwise he would’ve pointed it out. But he didn’t know why she shut it in the first place, honestly. 

“Sorry to bother you-” 

“You’re not bothering me,” he interrupted. “What can I do for you?” 

“It’s the Fox Ridge pitch.” She sauntered over to his desk, hips swaying and squeezed into a pair of black jeans. Her shirt was gaping open in the front from the top two buttons being left undone and wasn’t it just one earlier? It was always one, right? 

He realized it would’ve been easy to catch a peek of her bra when she bent over to hand him the file, but like a good person – like a good friend – he looked away. His gaze remained firmly fused to her face until she sat down in the chair across from him. 

She wanted his thoughts on the pitch, and he agreed to take a look. Based on the first page it looked perfect, and even if it wasn’t, he wouldn’t be much help. After all, she was the brains of the operation where he was just the muscle. 

“So, how was the wedding?” Joel flipped onto the next page without looking up. “Your cousin’s right?” 

“Good memory.” She hummed, sounding pleasantly surprised. Her nails clicked along the steel arm of the chair. “But yeah, the wedding was… it was nice.” 

“Was it?” Joel glanced up at her with a suspiciously quirked brow. “Cause, you ain’t gotta lie to me. I won’t tell.” 

She clicked her tongue as if her reluctant tone wasn’t what led him to such a conclusion.

“I’m not lying, it was really nice. A lot of family that I haven’t seen in a while was there. And my cousin has amazing taste, so the wedding was gorgeous. It was small and intimate, but.” She let out a big breath. “It’s just everyone except my dad and I had dates.” 

“Did you not bring your-” Too late, the words had poured out before he could think twice and he cursed his stupid, overly curious mind. He had no idea what to say to cover up his lapse, so he just didn’t. It just hung in the air and he turned to the next page without reading the last. 

“Bring my what, Joel?” Her voice made it sound more like a challenge than a question. He peered up at her and she looked him directly in the eyes. It was as if she knew what he was going to say. It was as if she wanted him to ask. 

Joel screwed the blue pen into his grip. “I thought - I thought you had a boyfriend.” 

At that, she reclined back in the chair. She crossed her legs and tilted her head as if to study him. “What made you think I have a boyfriend?” she asked with such wild amusement that it confused him. 

Didn’t she? Tommy had seen the card, the flowers as well, so it wasn’t something he just made up in his head. She was or used to be dating someone. Oh – maybe it wasn’t a boyfriend, but a girlfriend. Not that he was about to ask. God no. He’d butted into her personal life enough for one night. 

“Well, you know.” Joel scratched the back of his head, then pointed in the direction of the break room. “There were those flowers, remember?” 

Her eyes widened – her lips parted. “Yeah, I remember. I just, I guess I didn’t think you would.” 

“Well, it ain’t everyday someone gets a garden delivered here.” He meant it as a joke, but it came off rather jealous. He tacked on a chuckle for good measure. She snorted, so it must’ve worked. 

“Okay fair. I was dating someone, but that’s over. Been over. We broke up like 4 months ago? So, not long after that, actually.” 

Joel grimaced. He could barely focus on her being single when he felt like shit. No one wanted to be reminded of their ex. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” She brushed off like it was no big deal. 

Still, he remained silent as the grave because what the hell was he supposed to say now? 

“I was the one who ended things, just in case that makes you feel better.” Of course she was. No one in their right mind would break up with someone as amazing as her. “But since we’re on the topic and all - what about you, Joel?” 

“What about me?” Joel finally met her eyes and her lips twisted into a mischievous smirk that made his stomach swoop. 

“Do you have anyone special in your life?”

Joel stiffly shook his head. “Can’t say I do.”  

“Anyone not special?” she nudged him, suggestively wiggling her brows. 

Again – a shake of his head. “I don’t really date.” 

“What a shame.” Her voice was almost husky, breathy. She leaned forward slightly. “I’m sure all the single mom’s at Sarah’s school are devastated.” 

Joel batted his hand in the air with an ugly snort. 

“What? I’m serious,” she said without twitching. Her eyes momentarily flickered towards his lips, and suddenly, his throat felt like the mostly burnt bagel he had for breakfast. “I bet you have all of them wrapped around your finger.” 

“You’re just - you’re just saying that.” 

“Am I?” Her voice was silky, even silkier than her shirt. There was a cool confidence radiating from her as her fingernails galloped in a slow rhythm along the arm rest. 

She was staring at him, pinning him against his seat. The hair on his thighs lifted and tickled the denim. The energy in the room had shifted, the air between them had bent and blurred into something that Joel could not quite describe. But he could feel it, sense it when it surged and rippled between them and sent an electric shiver up his spine. 

She licked her lips and rolled them together until they were shiny with her spit. His heart pounded against his chest like an animal trapped and he wanted to pounce over the desk and taste her spit. He nearly did until he felt a stirring in his jeans. 

What the hell was going on? What was he thinking? He needed to get his head screwed back on straight before he did something incredibly stupid. 

Joel shot from his chair like a firework. Abrupt and loud and white-hot. He turned away and towards the filing cabinets on the back wall. He didn’t have a plan, but there had to be something in there that he could pretend to need. 

She was quicker than his flustered brain and rose to her feet before he could make it past the edge of his desk. 

“Joel.”

It stopped him, his feet stuck to the floor like wet cement. She approached him like a frightened deer. Steady. So quiet. Her steps barely scratched against the cheap carpet. 

Joel realized now, right now was the time to speak. To say something. Anything. Find an excuse. Stop standing here like a dumb-struck baboon. But there was only one word that managed to leave his lips, a breath - 

“Teddy.” 

“It’s okay,” she whispered into the shrinking space between them. “I know.” 

I know? He had no clue what that was supposed to mean, but before he could ask – she cradled the back of his neck and pressed her lips against his. Joel’s eyes widened and all he could see was the soft planes of her face, her fluttering eyelids, the fan of her raven-stroke lashes. 

She was kissing him. Holy shit. She was actually kissing him. When he finally registered that, he closed his eyes and was overcome by the taste of her spit and a hint of Burt’s Bees chapstick, which he found oddly arousing. 

For a moment, he was too damn stunned to do anything but move his mouth along hers. Then, he realized his arms were hanging like spaghetti noodles at his side and reached out and clutched onto her waist. His thumbs delicately swirled the fabric of her shirt. So damn smooth, just as he expected. 

Joel gulped when she drew back, just far enough to meet his eyes. He had no idea what the fuck this was – let along if it was anything at all. Perhaps, this was it. Just a stolen kiss, late one night in his office. 

Joel braced himself for her to yank away, to tell him it was a mistake, that she didn’t know what she was thinking. Let’s forget the whole thing. 

But she didn’t. 

She just continued to toy with the curly ends of his hair, twirling them around her fingers as her other hand fisted the loose collar of his shirt. He was wedged between her warm-heaving body and his desk. The edge was slightly burrowing into his lower back, but currently he couldn’t care less. 

Her gaze dipped to where his jeans were painfully tented. A hot burst of shame ignited behind his earlobes. The flex of his fingers bit into the hollow below her ribs. 

“It’s - it’s been a while,” he found himself explaining because there was no good reason, at his age, to be this turned on from just kissing. 

“Do you want me to stop?” She slid up against him, sealing herself against his chest. It appeared she knew the answer before he could dumbly shake his head. 

This time – his lips met hers somewhere in the middle. Where the first kiss was gentle, testing the waters like the first sip of fresh coffee, this one was deeper. More intense – a whole gulp. Her urgent lips captured his starstruck mouth and right then he knew nothing, no one, would ever compare to this. Not even close. 

The way she kissed was like some special art form that only she could master. It felt so damn good to have her fingers molding through his hair with baby scratches over his scalp and the scent of her soap flooding his chest with heat. It consumed him, his body, his mind. The rapid pulse in his ears muted his every coherent thought.

When she gently nibbled on his bottom lip, he moaned – Teddy. She licked her name from his lips, then eagerly tasted it on his tongue as if she couldn’t get enough. 

And oh God – her tongue was equally as impressive as her other skills. The tip of it dragged over his top palate, making it tingle like a buzz off tequila. She stroked and swirled and twisted around his tongue as if knotting a cherry stem. No one had ever taken the time to explore him so thoroughly. Frankly, he didn’t know there was that much of his mouth to explore. 

Despite her exploration, Joel’s hands were burning into her waist, still holding her at 10 and 2 like a student driver. Like this was a chaperoned middle school dance. Slowly he roamed them down to grip her hips, but no further. He didn’t want to push it. He didn’t want to scare her. He didn’t want to spoil this moment from something stupid like getting too greedy. 

Joel was fully okay with her in the driver seat. Even though he was usually in charge, he was happily letting her lead. Well, actually, he didn’t know if he was really letting her or if she just was. He didn’t care either way when she was touching him. 

She broke the kiss and her lips swerved to his cheek. His jaw, paying extra attention to the patch in his beard where no hair could grow. His head tipped back when she buried her nose into the crook of his neck and deeply inhaled. After a hard-days work he likely smelled of sweat instead of his soap, but she groaned anyway. 

“Have you ever thought about this before?” She breathed against his neck. 

“I mean, I-” He choked on his words as her tongue slicked over the thick vein beneath his jaw. “I - I tried not to.” 

“But you did.” He could feel her lips split into a grin before she sucked on a spot below his ear. He hoped it would leave a mark. The idea of seeing it tomorrow in the mirror made his cock twitch and throb and it ached. 

“Uh-huh,” he whimpered, rather pathetically. It actually sounded like it fucking hurt. 

“You know what?” She playfully nipped at the spot that would soon sadly fade. She then met his gaze with a coy grin. I thought about you too.” 

“You did?” he croaked. 

She hummed in response, her fingers trailing down his chest. His stomach quivered, his breath catching before she stopped just above the band of his jeans and whispered, “But unlike you - I didn’t try to stop.” 

Joel growled, unable to form a coherent thought. His brain was too preoccupied trying to process how any of this was happening. It had to be a dream or an optical illusion or some shit. No way it could be real. But her small hand cupped his cock and that certainly felt real. 

“Fuck - you feel even bigger than I imagined.” She palmed at his bulge with a light pressure. His knees nearly buckled despite the thick, denim barrier. 

Now, he was really wishing he jerked off last night – or anytime in the past week or so. God – he was pent up. It wouldn’t take much for him to break. 

“Can I see it?” 

Joel’s mouth went half-slack and she blinked at him without flinching. 

“Yeah,” he managed to squeak out. Not great, but at least coherent. 

She sank to her knees, her eyes never leaving his. Pretty. Pretty. So damn pretty. Those two undone buttons exposed the tops of her breasts, the peek of a plain white bra that he found sexier than he should’ve. 

His restless hands found solid ground on the desk behind him. Just in time as she balled the hem of his shirt in her tiny fists and bunched it towards his waist. The office air blew cool over his newly bare skin. 

Joel wondered how he compared to the type of guy she usually dated. Did she like meatheads with six packs? Or guys with scrawny arms? Or did she like them somewhere in the middle; someone more like him? His body used to be more solid in his 20’s, but softened with age. He was still strong though, still firm in most spots aside from his stomach. 

He caught himself sucking in as her wild eyes wandered over his husk-tan skin and across the dark scatter of hair around his navel. Then, she devoured it, mapping every inch with her wet, hot mouth. 

It was a miracle that he managed to stay upright under her attention. Any attention was new. He was not used to any teasing or foreplay or whatever delicious torture this was called. 

No. 

Joel was used to his own calloused hands. Quick, rough fucks with women who called him Joe or Jack or something else entirely because why did it matter if it meant nothing. 

But did this mean anything? To him, yes. To her – he had no clue. Dear God – he hoped so, though. 

With a smirk she unzipped his jeans and shoved them down by his knees. The wet spot on his boxers was impossible to miss. Of course, he’d worn light gray today instead of something discreet like black. 

“It’s been awhile,” he sheepishly reminded her. He didn’t want her to think he was always this big of a mess. Because he wasn’t. Seriously, he really wasn’t. 

“It’s alright, just relax.” She leaned forward and mouthed at the stain. 

But it was impossible to relax when her nose nudged the underside of his cock, her mouth was so close to the tip that every muscle in his body tightened. He gritted his teeth, his nostrils flaring with the remnants of his dwindling self-control. 

She must’ve realized she was ruining him because she pulled back with a wicked grin. She hooked her fingers into the elastic waistband and tugged. His freed cock nearly smacked her in the face. The flush red tip was weeping. 

“Shit, you’re thick,” she gasped. Women had told him that before, but he much preferred hearing it from her. The sweet honesty in her voice, the clear surprise. It stroked his ego and filled him with a strange sense of pride as if he’d actually accomplished anything profound, and not just good genetics. 

She licked and spit into her palm before stroking his cock with a loose fist from root to tip. Her thumb swiped over the blunt head, smearing his pre-come and making his hips jerk and involuntary spasm. 

Joel opened his mouth to apologize, but was quickly silenced by her tongue: warm, wet, the slightly rough texture tracing over the thick vein that ran down his length. 

He gripped the desk until his knuckles bleached. She placed her free hand on his hip as if to help steady him before guiding him between her perfect, plush lips. Just the tip, at first. But it still was nearly enough to finish him. He didn’t remember the last time someone put their mouth on him. 

Joel desperately wished to witness this moment. He wanted to memorize the glossy gleam in her eyes, the way she looked in front of him and on her knees and how her mouth stretched perfectly around his cock. But it was too much. The weight between his thighs was becoming oppressive. If he watched, he’d shatter. And he’d be horrified if he finished that fast. 

So, he focused on the ceiling tiles instead. On the black specks that formed different shapes as she took another inch of him into her feverish mouth. 

Already, she had him panting like a dog. Unable to fully catch his breath even when she released his cock with a loud pop. She continued to pleasure him with long strokes of her fist. Her tongue dipped into his leaking slit, lighting up nerve endings that he didn’t know existed. It ripped an ungodly sound from his mouth. 

“Oh, you liked that?” she asked, very smug. Then repeated the movement once, twice, before eagerly swallowing his cock again. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” His hand flew to her shoulder and squeezed as she took him deeper – deeper. Holy shit. Where did she learn to do this? This was like pornstar level good. 

She had taken him halfway down her throat when he felt a shock run across his spine, a familiar tugging in his balls. His release was building and brewing in his lower belly like a thunderstorm. 

But Joel clenched his teeth. No – he could not come. Not yet. He needed to get himself under control before he finished in less than five minutes. 

He shut his eyes, but not even the rumble of his eardrums could drown out the loud, lewd squelch of her mouth. It was fucking filthy. The swirl of her expert tongue around his shaft had him unraveling fast like a loose spool of thread. 

“Teddy,” he moaned her name as he got close – too damn close. 

He tried to tell her to slow down, but the words stuck in his throat. Nothing came out except grunts. Just short groans. Her lips kissed the cusp of her fist, completely engulfing him in her honey-slobber and the softness of her hand. 

His hips instinctively bucked, the head of his cock bumping the back of her throat and she gagged. The walls of her inner mouth shuddered and pulsed around him and – 

“Shit.” His eyes flew open but before he could warn her – she hollowed her cheeks and sucked. 

He groaned her name, low and unrestrained, as the pleasure electrified his spine. It arced down his thighs before he could push her off. For a moment, he lost himself in the high, in the tide of her mouth. His cock twitched and throbbed on her tongue as he came. 

Hard. 

As if he hadn’t come in months – years. 

In a daze, he blinked down at her and saw his cum dripping down her chin, leaking from the corners of her mouth as she continued to twist her fist and suck down the aftershocks. It would’ve been easily the most erotic sight, if it didn’t suddenly hit him how fast he came. 

The light-headed euphoria quickly morphed into vertigo. He was horrified, mortified, staring down at her. 

He didn’t know what to say, and for once, it seemed like neither did she. She released his cock from her mouth, but otherwise didn’t move. Not even to wipe the come off her face. 

She swallowed, and opened her mouth. But a familiar ding tore through the thick, sticky air. The bell above the front door. 

“Joel? Teddy?” 

No way. It was motherfucking Tommy. 

—-

The idiot had forgotten his house keys in Joel’s truck. In the cupholder, nonetheless. 

Joel had somehow managed to button his jeans, and hand her a tissue before Tommy busted into his office. She’d pretend to blow her nose to clean the come off her face, riddling him with another level of shame. So embarrassed that he could barely look at her without feeling like he swallowed a handful of nails. 

He threw Tommy the car keys to get rid of him, but found out that Aaron had  left. Tommy had told him that Joel could just drive him home without even asking. And usually it wouldn’t be a big deal. 

But Tommy was so goddamn clueless. He just swung around the door frame, blabbering about how the girlfriend showed up and there was a big blow up in the parking lot and Joel was just waiting for him to notice the smell of sex and sweat or even the cloying embarrassment. Or Teddy’s swollen and suck-plump lips and surely Joel looked like a flushed-beet wreck. 

So how did Tommy seem to remain completely oblivious? 

When Sarah called a few minutes later, Joel left. Well, first he made sure everything was locked up and she was safely in her car, but otherwise fled like a coward. 

The shop had officially disappeared from his rear view mirror and now Joel couldn’t remember if he even told her goodbye. She just gave him the best blow job of his life, and he couldn’t even wave? 

“Are you gonna get Sarah or drop me off first?” Tommy asked and Joel snapped at him like a venus fly trap. 

“Doesn’t really make sense to go out of my way just to drop you off first, now does it?” 

Tommy threw up his hands. “Well, fuck. How am I supposed to know where Sarah’s friend lives?” He hurled himself against the passenger seat and mumbled under his breath, “Asshole.” 

Joel winced. He was kinda being an asshole, taking out his anger on Tommy. He wasn’t even mad at Tommy. Annoyed, yes, but not mad. The only person Joel was mad at here was himself. 

He was mad at himself for cumming too fast, and even more so for running away afterwards like a scared hound with his soft, spent cock tucked between his legs. Recalling the complete shit show, Joel’s grip coiled around the steering wheel until the leather squealed in protest. He could still feel the ring of her spit drying around him. 

Joel sighed and stared out the windshield at the night sky, the truck bouncing along the uneven back road full of potholes. Why did it feel like he just fucked everything up? 

“Hey, are you alright?” Tommy’s voice was lower, quiet – concerned. 

Joel scratched at his jaw, at the bald patch she’d kissed, before nodding his head. 

“Yeah, sorry - I’m just tired.” He’d rather die and be reincarnated into a gnat than tell Tommy about how he just prematurely ejaculated. He’d had enough embarrassment for one night. 

“Did I-” Tommy paused and for a moment it seemed like he decided to keep his mouth shut. Until he sighed. “I don’t know, but did I interrupt something between you and Teddy?” 

A little too late to start being observant, Tommy. 

Joel approached a red light, the truck crawling to a complete stop. 

“Come on. What would be going on between us that you could interrupt?” Joel looked over at Tommy and his brows were furrowed. In the pool of orange light from the street lamps that speckled the cab, Joel saw the realization flash across Tommy’s face. The moment everything clicked into place. 

Joel abruptly turned away, not in the mood for pity. After what felt like forever, the light finally turned green. 

“Joel, I didn’t realize that you-” 

“Don’t.” His voice was quiet, stern without being rude. “Just don’t.” 

For once, Tommy didn’t demand to have the last word. Instead, he slowly and silently fell back into the seat as if to fade into the shadows. She still had a boyfriend as far as Tommy knew, and Joel would not be informing him otherwise. This way was easier. 

The rest of the drive was filled with Willie Nelson’s album Always on My Mind, the rumble of the engine, and the buzzing of Joel’s thoughts. 

How was he supposed to face her tomorrow? 

—-

On Friday morning, Joel drove to the shop with a terrible pit in his stomach. His eyes felt gritty, and there was a dark shadow of gray underneath from a restless night sleep. He ate a bland piece of toast for breakfast, and even that made him feel sick. When he turned onto the street, he thought it might reappear all over the windshield. 

But Teddy was not there. Just a pink post-it note on the full, freshly brewed coffee pot. 

Fox Ridge pitch - Wish me luck. 

He’d forgotten that it was this early. Joel supposed he’d have to get here on time this evening to see her. 

Joel spent the day trying not to go insane. Despite the pounding of his hammer, memories of last night beat against his skull. Anytime he touched his lips, or the spot behind his ear, he could practically feel the ghost of her kisses. They had been desperate, heated. Hadn’t they? It had seemed she’d wanted him, just as much as he’d always wanted her. She’d even admitted to imagining him in some sexual way. 

But what about now? 

He didn’t have a clue. 

Eight hours later, and halfway from a complete tailspin, the truck decided not to start. The engine clicked and clicked and clicked, but never went. Even though he begged for it to start. The concrete guys had tried to jump it with no success. It’d taken everything in him not to sock Tommy in the jaw when he gave him that told-you-so look while calling a tow truck. 

The concrete guys were still on their best behavior and gave them a ride to the mechanic shop. It was run by one of Tommy’s highschool friends, Zach, who was nice enough to stick around past 5 on a Friday night. 

5:25 and this was a fucking nightmare. He couldn’t imagine a worse day for the truck to die. As if he hadn’t fucked up enough last night when he bolted, the last thing Joel wanted as her thinking that he was avoiding her. The least he could do was extend the same courtesy she had this morning. 

So midway through Tommy and Zach examining what was under the hood, he broke away to call her. 

Joel slapped his cellphone against the flat of his palm as he headed outside the entrance. With a deep breath he dialed the shop’s number. The ring-ring-ring in his ears made his chest feel like it was about to explode. 

“Teddy’s Company, how can I help you?”

“Hey Teddy.” He cleared his throat. “Hey, it’s Joel,” he said, very awkwardly. 

“Hey! Hi. What’s up?” 

Joel kicked at the loose rocks by his feet. “Well, the truck - uh the truck’s acting up. We had to get a tow, and Tommy and I are - the mechanic’s checking it over right now.” 

“Oh shit.” 

“Yeah, so I just wanted you to know - I don’t know when we’ll get back to the shop.” Joel lightly hit the center of his head with the circle of his clenched fist. He sounded like an idiot. 

“No - yeah. That makes sense.” Silence crackled on the other line and it was unbearable. 

Joel scratched his temple, unsure what to say next. He wanted to talk about last night, just to get it over with, but it wasn’t the right time. That was not a conversation to have over the phone. Not like at work was much better, but still. 

“Well,” Teddy broke the silence. There was a rustling of something on the other line – papers? Her bag? “Do you need-” 

There was a massive boom behind him – Tommy pounded on the glass door and motioned him inside. 

“What was that?” she asked and Joel mouthed at Tommy to give him a second. 

“Sorry, it’s Tommy. I think the mechanic’s done with the inspection.”

“Okay - well, I was just gonna ask if you guys-” 

Tommy banged again – harder. It was Friday, so he probably had a date with his favorite dive bar. Joel glared at him and flipped him off. 

“It sounds like you need to go,” she said. 

“Sorry.” Joel rubbed the back of his neck and he was gonna kill Tommy. “But uh - have a nice weekend, alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah, you too, Joel.” 

Once Joel found out the battery just needed to be replaced, Tommy’s pissy mood made a lot more sense. It would be a decently fast and easy fix – at most an hour. 

Joel plopped down in a chair in the lobby and mindlessly flipped through a car magazine. He didn’t even register the pictures that swished by, too busy reeling from that awkward phone call. 

Had he really told her to have a nice weekend? He wanted to melt into the cracks and scuffs in the black-and-white tiles. Real smooth, Joel. He sucked at this shit. 

What was going to happen next? 

He couldn’t tell where her head was at from the phone call that somehow didn’t even last as long as him last night. God – she probably thought he had some type of erectile dysfunction and he couldn’t even blame her. There was no excuse for a man at his age to cum that fast from a blow job, nonetheless. He was not a fucking teenager. 

The longer he sat there in the empty lobby with the melancholy of Johnny Cash’s voice, the more he began to doubt. It spread and swelled in his lower abdomen like a virus. Syphilis. If it festered for too long, he felt like it might turn him insane. 

He didn’t know how he would survive the weekend like this. 

— 

Saturday was usually his day for relaxing. All his responsibilities could wait until Sunday, but he couldn’t sit still. 

Up early, he and Sarah went to the Farmer’s Market and ran errands until lunch time. He deep cleaned the house in the afternoon. The entire main floor was vacuumed and swept, the kitchen counters looked brand new, and even his bed was freshly made with dryer warm sheets. He was determined to keep busy instead of wallowing in his looming conversation with Teddy. 

It might’ve worked if Sarah didn’t innocently keep bringing her up. With homecoming tonight, she was apparently in the mood to reminisce, especially after she’d gotten all dolled up. 

They were halfway to her friend Ashley’s house and the drive had been filled with Teddy. Their mall trip – the dress – the tiny details Teddy helped pick out. 

“I brought my polaroid camera.” Sarah pointed at her overnight bag in the backseat of his truck. “So, you can take a photo of me and show Teddy on Monday.” 

“Oh, yeah. She’ll like that.” Joel forced a smile as the hand of his knee flexed, biting into denim. 

He couldn’t help but feel a stab of guilt every time Sarah mentioned her. Teddy would never cut Sarah out, he knew that, but things were bound to be different now. It couldn’t go back to what it used to be, not after she’d seen his cock and swallowed his come. The relationship would inevitably change between them. 

He just hoped their friendship could be somewhat salvaged. For Sarah’s sake, especially. 

Joel was able to push that out of his mind when they arrived at Ashley’s house. The Murphy’s had been nice enough to invite the entire group, including parents, to come over and take photos. He couldn’t imagine fitting 14 teenagers and their moms in his puny backyard where he could barely fit a playset. Luckily, the Murphy’s lived on a big, well-landscaped lot that backed up against a man-made lake, and not directly into a neighbor’s house. 

The few other dad’s who showed up were all huddled together under the covered patio with their eyes transfixed on the TV screen. The Longhorns were taking on the Wildcats. Still in the first quarter, so it wasn’t even a good game yet. 

Instead of cracking open a beer, Joel joined the mom’s by the rose bushes. 

“Oh my God, Joel. Sarah looks beautiful.”

“She’s gorgeous.” 

“Stunning.” 

They all complimented Joel as if his genes actually put up a fight. Sarah was Lisa’s exact twin. Even more so when her gorgeous thick curls were pulled back into a loose bun with a few loose strands framing her face. The mom’s were right though – Sarah did look beautiful. But then again, she always did; with or without all the glitter and make-up. 

Sarah’s date was a scrawny, soccer player with red hair who was her best friend’s boyfriend’s best friend. Eric. Joel could hardly believe his daughter was at an age to even have a date, even if it was just a set up. It made him feel incredibly old when the kid called him sir. 

Based on first impressions, Eric seemed nice enough. The kid took a few photos of Joel and Sarah together in front of the Mexican bush sage. The purple flowers were almost an exact match to Sarah’s dress. Joel had hoped that somebody would offer when he’d changed out of his dusty clothes earlier and into a different, slightly nicer white t-shirt and a pair of his best dark wash jeans. 

Still, while Joel wouldn’t threaten the kid with a fist or scare the shit out of him with a war story like Tommy would, Joel did give Eric the look – Don’t try anything, bud. When Joel shook his hand, it felt like wet paint. 

Good. 

Joel thanked the minivan moms for driving, Ashley’s mom for hosting the sleepover afterwards, while snapping enough pictures to fill up two of Sarah’s bulletin boards. 

“You look beautiful, baby girl,” he told Sarah one more time before hugging her goodbye. 

She promised to be good and handed him the developed Polaroid, specifically for Teddy. He stashed it safely away in the middle console of his truck then drove away. 

At home, an empty living room quietly greeted him. Not yet 6 P.M. – the sun continued to shine and slice through the curtains onto the beige carpet. Joel had no idea what to do with the rest of his evening. Football, he supposed. Maybe rent a movie – Ocean’s Eleven or Training Day, something Sarah had no interest in ever seeing. 

He whipped up a ham and cheese sandwich and cracked open a beer. Rather than eating alone at the dining room table, he set up on the couch and ate in the company of Longhorn football. 

It didn’t take long, not even halfway finished with his sandwich, before a Folgers commercial came on and he thought about Teddy. She never even used Folgers, but just coffee in general made him think of her. At this point, it was actually pathetic how everything reminded him of her.

For a few minutes, Joel debated on calling her and figuring this shit out already. This limbo was killing him. He even pulled out his phone from his back pocket, found her name in his contact list and let it taunt him, his thumb hovering over the call button for longer than he’d like to admit. 

But what would he say if she answered? 

It had been two days and he still had no clue. He was still trying to figure out how to navigate this whole situation. He wanted to handle it with care but it felt like holding a dandelion puff in his rough calloused hands. Inevitably, it would break and fall apart with something as simple as a gust of wind. Joel carelessly tossed his phone on the coffee table and groaned. 

At halftime, he went and cleaned off his empty plate in the sink. Using his hands always helped distract him. Maybe he needed a hobby. He could always play his guitar, finally learn Never Going Back Again. He’d always wanted to try out woodworking since it used to be his dad’s favorite pastime. 

Joel was drying off the dish when the doorbell rang. 

“Hold on,” he yelled, wiping off his hands with the rag. He didn’t know who that could be, but he’d bet everything in his wallet right now it was Tommy. He knew Sarah would be gone all night, and probably wanted to drag Joel to some bar across town for a wild night out. 

Joel was coming around to the idea of spending his night in a smoky, loud bar instead of cooped up in his house when he opened the door. It was definitely not his brother, not even close. 

“Teddy.” 

She was on his front porch in a pale blue sundress that instantly made his mouth water. The buttery light from the budding sunset sky behind her framed her silhouette. 

“Sorry to just stop by.” She smoothed down her dress and tugged at the hem. “But can I come in?” 

—-

She didn’t say why she was here when he let her inside, but he supposed she didn’t have to. 

It was actually Joel who broke the silence. “Do you want anything to drink?” he asked. His mom would lurch from her grave if he didn’t act like a good host. 

“Water,” she said with a small smile. “Tap’s fine.” 

It was a good thing she didn’t follow him into the kitchen. His hands were shaking so bad that he nearly dropped the glass on the tile floor. 

When he came back into the living room, she was sitting on the couch. He handed her the glass, his fingertips brushing over hers. She politely thanked him before taking a tentative sip. The cushion whined under his weight when he sat. These were the exact same spots from the night she was here with Sarah. This time, however, the empty cushion felt less like a safety net and more like a boulder about to crush him. 

He turned off the TV, the newfound silence giving further evidence of what happened the other night. 

She clinked the glass onto the coffee table, then clasped her hands stiffly in her lap. On the very edge of her seat, she looked ready to bolt at any moment. “I knew Sarah would be at the dance or, at least dinner.” 

“Yeah, dinner. I think the dance starts around 8,” he said and she nodded. He wished he would’ve remembered to bring the Polaroid inside. Maybe it would’ve helped ease the tension. 

But no – he needed to quit procrastinating and apologize for how he reacted the other night. 

Buck up – do it. 

For a moment, Joel searched for what to say, scratching the skin around his neck where it felt thickest. 

“Joel,” Teddy said before he could speak. She shifted in her seat and when she opened her mouth, he braced himself for her to call it nothing but a mistake. “I wanted to come by and apologize about the other night.” 

His brows furrowed. 

“Apologize?” 

“Yes, Joel,” she answered, very sternly. He noticed a pained look in her eyes before she stared down at her stark white tennis shoes. 

“What? I - what?” He sounded like a bumbling drunk and for once, he wished the right words would just come naturally to him. 

She sighed. 

“After our phone call yesterday,” she started, only stopping for a split-second to clasp her gold necklace between her fingers. “I feel like I might’ve pushed things too far the other night. I never wanted to make you feel uncomfortable-” 

“Uncomfortable? No. Shit.” Joel insistently shook his head. He would personally damn himself to hell if he sat here any longer and let her take any blame for this. Exhaling, he scruffed a hand over his jaw. “Look, I’ll admit - I panicked, but that ain’t on you.” 

“How is it not?” 

“Cause you did nothing wrong. Fuck. I’m the one who should be apologizing, alright? I acted like a goddamn idiot, Teddy. It’s just-” Joel let out a self-deprecating laugh, bashfully tucking his chin towards his chest. “I don’t usually, ya know - that fast. Just got embarrassed, that's all.” 

He absently rubbed at a patch of distressed leather on the arm of the couch. 

“Well, I never wanted to make you feel embarrassed.” She scooted closer – closer. Slowly. For what felt like the first time since the night in his office, Joel properly met her eyes. “All I wanted was to make you feel good, Joel.” Her voice was husky, almost seductive. She smirked and his heart banged inside his chest like a caged feral cat. 

“You did make me feel good,” he admitted, rather shyly. “Just wish I could’ve made you feel good, too.”  

“Who says you can’t?” Her eyes darted across his face, to his lips, to the rise and fall of his chest. She gripped his shoulders for balance before swinging her legs over him. Her knee lightly bumped into the arm of the couch and his hands instantly went to her hips, helping to steady her on his lap. 

Joel stared up at her dumbly for a moment before shaking his head in disbelief. His thumbs toyed with the hem of her dress, bunching it up further until he could brush over the bare flesh of her thighs. Goddamn, she was so soft. So pretty. 

“What do you want, Joel?” 

Everything. “Whatever you’ll give me.” 

“No, Joel. What do you want?” 

The last two days – hell, the last two years bulldozed into him. Every feeling and thought he’d suppressed and ignored crashing into him like a wrecking ball. He’d spent so long convincing himself this would never happen, but now – everything he ever wanted and never thought he would have was right here. Right in his lap. 

And something inside him suddenly snapped. 

“You gotta know by now, Teddy. You gotta know.” The words spilled out of his mouth and he hated how it sounded. It didn’t make any sense. Joel shook his head and ran his hands down her thighs to lightly squeeze at the spot above her knees for stability. “Fuck, I ain’t any good at this shit,” he said, in a rare moment of vulnerability. 

She cupped his face so delicately like he was made of porcelain. With a small nudge, he met her gaze. 

“This is gonna sound very middle school, but do you like me, Joel?” she asked and he snorted. 

It did sound juvenile, but he instinctively tugged her closer and nodded his head. 

“Good. Cause I like you and I want you, Joel. Only you,” she said. “So what do you say? Wanna give this a shot?” 

“You fucking know I do.” His hand slid behind her neck, his thumb traced over the perfect curve of her hair line. “Now, come here.” 

When his lips met hers – it was desperate and sweet like cream soda. His mouth crashed against hers with every bottled up dream and fantasy of her mouth, her lips, her tongue. It surged hot and bright through him. 

His hand was a firm weight on the small of her back as he pulled her in as close as humanly possible, until only denim and a dainty sundress could separate him from her. 

She clutched onto his shirt collar before gently rocking her hips against his growing bulge. He tensed his thigh, catching on her panties. She whimpered, already so sensitive, and he couldn’t wait to learn all the sounds she made. 

He couldn’t fuck her on the couch, though. Not properly, at least. Definitely not like he wanted to or how she deserved. Still, he let himself enjoy this for a few minutes. Dry humping like teenagers in her parent’s basement before breaking the kiss with a soft peck to her top lip. 

“Would you wanna go upstairs?” He dragged the back of his hand over her thigh, his knuckles hiking up her dress to reveal a little more skin. 

“Oooh. Am I finally gonna see Joel Miller’s room?” She gave the tip of his nose a quick kiss before crawling off of him. 

She held his hands the entire way upstairs until he led her into his room. “Told you, you weren’t missing much.” 

“I don’t know about that.” She glanced at the navy blue walls, at the painting of a grazing deer in what appeared to be somewhere in Montana. It hung above his golden oak headboard. She pointed at the basic beige comforter, three pillows lined up against the frame. “I’m gonna be honest, though, I didn’t take you for the type to make your bed.” 

“I did a little cleaning today.” Joel shrugged as she kicked off her shoes by his laundry basket. 

“Well, isn’t that convenient?” 

Joel managed to only kiss her twice before getting on the bed. He scooted into the middle, using two pillows to prop and cushion his aging lower back. Again, she eagerly climbed over him. She yanked her dress over her head, leaving her in only a lacy black bra with a pair of matching panties that cut high on her hips. The tiny, pink flower on the waistband was just the cherry on top. 

She must’ve noticed the look on his face because she giggled as if she was completely innocent. “Do you like it? I wore it for you.” 

“Fuck me,” he murmured. “Look at you, you’re gonna fucking kill me.” His hands roamed from her ribs up to paw at her bra and he squeezed just hard enough to watch them pour out over the top. He growled from deep in his chest before shoving his face in between her breasts. He traced the lacy material with his tongue before kissing along his slick trail. “Can I take it off?” 

Smirking, she reached behind her and unclipped it for him. The bra joined her dress on the carpet in seconds. He licked his lips and admired her bare skin – the curves of her body in the coppery-golden glow from the sunset spilling in from the window. When he cupped her breasts, he swore they were made for his hands. His thumbs slid across her sensitive peaks, feather-light, but her breath still hitched – her head tip back and even the column of her neck was gorgeous. 

He replaced one of his thumbs with his tongue, flicking the tip of it over her nub again and again. Kitten licks that made her clutch the back of his head. The way her fingers rooted into his hair was almost possessive and she held him flush against her chest as he sucked her nipple into his needy mouth. 

Her breathing grew ragged and she tried to find friction. She rutted against him, but his hands captured her hips, holding her still before she could graze his cock. Too much dry humping and he’d be actually come in his pants like a teenager. 

“Be patient, sweetheart,” he murmured and she whined. He didn’t allow her another chance to complain before his mouth switched to her other breast and adored it with equal attention. It’d been ages since he took his time like this and he lost himself in the feeling of her soft, scented skin on his face. 

“Joel,” she moaned. It was desperate and raw and hands down the most erotic sound he’d ever heard in his life. It snapped him from his reverie and he grazed his teeth once more over her spit-swollen bud. 

“I know.” He petted her hips before cupping her sex. The lace was soaked and sticky around her cunt. 

Her hips bucked into the flat edge of his palm and for a moment, he watched her shamelessly ride his hand. Her brows furrowed – her fingers clutching his shirt for support. He was suddenly aware that he was completely dressed, and he found it strangely erotic. A part of him enjoyed it, maybe a little too much. 

“Let me take care of you.” He patted her on the hip before ordering her to lay back. She didn’t need to be told twice. 

Joel moved, so she could take his spot in the center of the bed. He tore off his t-shirt and threw it with her clothes. She watched him with glossy, moon eyes as he crawled between her spread open thighs. He captured her lips in a tender kiss before swerving to the swell of her cheek and down the slope of her neck. Gently, he nipped at her collarbone and she wiggled impatiently. 

But he still went slow when dragging the tip of his nose from her breasts and along her stomach where he placed a soft kiss above her belly button. 

When he settled back on his knees, he saw her chest rising and falling. Her bottom lip was stuck between her teeth and she was fisting the comforter. It was hard to believe she was really here, even as his fingers stroked her thigh. She was actually in his bed in nothing but soaked black panties. 

Joel laid down on his stomach, spreading her thighs even wider to make room for his broad shoulders. Face-to-face with her lace covered cunt, he could smell the sweet, primal musk. 

He sucked in a breath, suddenly feeling nervous. He enjoyed going down on women, but it had been awhile since he did anything more than just enough to get someone wet enough to take him. And he really wanted this to be good. 

It felt like it had to be good, after his last fuck up. 

“Joel? Are you okay?” She brushed back a tuft of hair that had fallen flat on his face. 

He shut his eyes but there was no hiding when his face was mere inches from her pussy. “It’s just been awhile.” 

“Well, we don’t-”

“No. God - I want to.” Joel groaned and dejectedly dropped his head against her thigh. He kissed at a mark above her knee. Her skin felt so warm against the stubble of his cheek. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” 

A moan dripped from her lips as he mouthed his way to the dip where her thighs met her hips. His nose nudging along the elastic seam. 

“I’m not usually like this, but fuck - I wanna make you feel good.” He sucked at the spot directly above that damn tiny pink rose and her hips lifted off the bed, almost chasing his mouth. “Want you to know I can take care of you.” 

“You can - you can,” she practically chanted. “Just God. Please, Joel.” 

“Okay, I got you. It’s okay,” he whispered before peeling off her panties. He lifted the flimsy to his nose and inhaled without thinking. She smelled so delicious, musky, like sea salt and jasmine. He lost himself in her womanly scent and stuffed the fabric into his mouth and oh God – the taste. Dully sweet, a citrusy-tang that tingled his tongue. He devoured it. 

It wasn’t until her panties were licked clean that he came up for air. His eyes opened to find her staring at him. Her mouth gaping – pupils carbon-black. 

With a shy smile, he tossed the panties, now soaked with his spit, behind him. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” she panted. “Fuck, that was hot.” 

He snorted. 

“Well, you taste damn good, sweetheart,” he said, situating himself comfortably between her thighs. Now, there was nothing, not even skimpy lace separating them. She was completely hairless, which was actually a first for him. Joel didn’t have a personal preference, though he did like how easily he could see how turned on she was. Her entire sex was swollen and glossy and perfect. Licking his lips, he peered up at her. “I wanna make you feel good, so let me know if you don’t like something, alright?” 

She quickly nodded, her chest hitching with anticipation. She wanted this. She did.

He kissed the top of her mound then experimentally licked her slit, keeping his tongue soft and flat. He deliberately stopped just before her clit, avoiding it. For now. He planned to build her up slowly, steady. Words had never come easy to him, so instead he’d show her what he could not articulate. 

Despite his own painful desire, his focus remained solely on her as he lapped at her cunt: He teased and nibbled and sucked on her folds. Letting her little sounds and sighs guide him to find her most sensitive spots. He didn’t know what he’d been so worried about before. Eating pussy was just like riding a bike. 

“More,” she pleaded, and how could he deny her after she’d been so patient? 

Her back arched when the tip of his nose grazed her clit. He smirked against her cunt, the pit in his belly stoked by how worked up she was. It fueled his confidence and his tongue swiped over her clit. She wound her fingers through his hair and tugged. 

Hard. 

And Oh – that did something to him. His cock twitched, or at least, tried to. Pack so tightly against the seam of his jeans. Again – he swallowed the urge to hump the sheets for some relief, snubbing his own arousal for hers. 

As he toyed with her clit, his fingertips skimmed over her slick, hot-heated sex. The thick bulb of his pointer finger caught on her entrance and she immediately clenched, as if trying to capture him. Greedy little thing. 

Still, he peered up at her for permission that she happily granted. He started out with one finger and inched inside her until he could not physically go any further. He cursed under his breath. She was warm and soaked and so tight. 

When finally he squeezed in a second finger, her knees slightly bowed. Even though she was wet enough for him to slip in without any resistance, he rocked into her slowly, mindful to let her adjust. He curled his fingers, trying a few different angles before finding that spongy spot. 

Immediately, she jerked with a deep, filthy moan. 

Got it. 

His fingers worked just as relentlessly as his tongue that was circling and swirling and flicking her clit. So responsive. Her walls spasmed around him as he thrusted into her a little harder. A little faster.

“Oh my God.” Her voice was as shaky as her thighs. He could feel her starting to swell under his tongue. 

Joel didn’t want to stop, but he needed to see her come apart. When he leaned back on his knees, her hand shot out. She latched onto his forearm with a death grip. 

“Wait! Wait! Joel!” Her voice was high-pitched. Frantic. Her cunt clenched furiously around his fingers as if she could not bear to let them go. “I’m almost there. I swear, I’m close.” 

She bore down, attempting to fuck his hand as if she needed to prove she was telling the truth. Like he could do nothing but sit here, and she could get herself off. Joel felt something ugly and bitter twinge in his chest. It made him wonder how often she was left high and dry and unsatisfied by the people she fucked. 

Well, not anymore. Not with him. 

Once his hand lightly pressed on her abdomen, she stopped. Her gaze found his. Her eyes glossy and wild and fucked out. It looked like the only thought in her head was how badly she needed to come. 

“Don’t worry, I ain’t done with you, sweetheart,” he assured her as his hand on her stomach moved lower and lower. “Just wanna see you when I make you come for the first time.”

A filthy moan split her lips when he circled her clit with his thumb. The panic on her face was instantly replaced with relief. Pleasure. She looked gorgeous on the verge of an orgasm. 

“Does this pretty little pussy feel good?” 

“Yes - yes - don’t stop,” she cried out. “I’m so close.” 

“I know, sweetheart. I can feel it.” And he could. “I got you.” 

She moaned his name as she came undone underneath him. Her arousal was dripping down his knuckles and onto his sheets. He caught himself grinding into the air, desperately wishing it was his cock instead of his fingers making her come. 

Her clit pulsed under the pad of his thumb like a beating heart. Insatiable, he sucked the taste of her off his fingers then wiped his mouth. 

She drew him down into a sloppy, wet kiss. The painful bulge in his jeans catching on her bare flesh. By some miracle, though he didn’t burst right then and there. 

She pawed at his bare shoulders. “I need you,” she murmured against his lips that were still buzzing with her wetness. “Please Joel, I want you.” 

“Greedy,” he mumbled, grinning against her cheek. He gave her hip a playful pinch before jumping onto his feet. 

Quickly, he shed his jeans along with his pre-come stained boxer briefs. His cock was heavy. The head swollen into a furious shade of red, closer to purple than pink. 

The light outside was starting to fade into gauzy, gray dusk. So, Joel flipped on the bedside lamp before pulling out a fresh box of condoms from the nightstand. He tore through the plastic wrapping with his teeth, but slowed down when opening the tin-foil packet. 

“How do you want me?” She asked as he securely rolled on the condom. 

Up? Down? He didn’t care. “Surprise me.” 

She shot him a mischievous smirk before flipping onto her stomach. Rising onto all fours. This woman. He had no idea what she would pick, but his first guess never would’ve been doggy. 

He admired the dream-like curve of her spine and she invitingly wiggled her ass. Seemed she was trying to give him a heart attack. Did she know how sexy she was to him? She had to. She had to know what she did to him. 

“Is this okay?” she asked, and Joel growled his approval. He climbed in behind her and palmed at the plump flesh of her ass. 

She opened herself wider until he could see everything. “Shit, sweetheart,” he hissed, marveling at where her sex glistened with his spit and her orgasm.

Joel had to squeeze at the base of his cock before dragging the tip through her slick folds, all the way up to her puckered hole. Even that felt good. Almost too good. And he wasn’t even inside her, yet. 

Once Joel was lined up with her entrance, he noticed how small her cunt looked next to him and didn’t even try to push in. He questioned whether or not he could fit. It was just a fact that he was thick. Even though she was soaked, this would be a tight squeeze. 

Fuck. Now, he was really regretting only using two fingers instead of three. 

“Joel” she whined, but he still didn’t move. 

“I don’t wanna hurt you.” 

“No, I can take it - I promise,” she whimpered. “Joel, please.” She tilted back against him, making it impossible to say no. 

“Okay. Alright,” he said soothingly, calmly rubbing the arc of her hip. “I’ll go slow.” 

And he did. For both his and her sake, he inched into the heat of her cunt. His gaze was welded to the painted deer above the headboard. Watching himself disappear inside her would’ve been too much. The feeling of her pulsing around him was already almost too much for him to handle. Without the condom, this would’ve been over before it could even begin.  

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. You’re big,” she choked out, her walls fluttering around him. “I need - I need a second.” 

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Yeah – he needed one too. 

There was a long minute where the only sounds in the room were of his harsh breaths, her suppressed whimpers. Then, a slight creak of the bed. 

He leaned forward, his chest lightly pressed against her back. His arms caged in around hers, palms flat on the bed to help support his own weight as he draped over her body. 

“You feel so good.” His lips brushed over the top of her spine and she shivered. “I know it’s a lot. I want you to know it’s a lot for me too.” 

“Oh, Joel,” she mewled as he buried his face into her neck. She smelled and tasted just like salted caramel. 

“You’re perfect, sweetheart. So good.” He kissed behind her ear, along the back of her neck. “I’m gonna move now, alright?” 

“Please.” The word dripped from her lips – the only answer he needed. 

He stayed close to her, his breath puffing against her neck as he fucked into her. Nice and slow and tender, at first. She met his thrusts in perfect sync. Each one allowing him deeper and deeper inside her and he didn’t even know how that was possible. It was as if her pussy was molding to fit him, to take even more of him. It felt very intimate and overwhelming.

He thought if he was staring into her eyes that he might’ve cried. Sex had never felt like this before. Not with Lisa, not even when they accidentally made Sarah. If he was being honest, sex had always felt somewhat impersonal; stilted, distant, like a glory hole in a gas station, just minus the sketchy bathroom wall.

But here, right now with her – this felt sacred. He had no clue how he ever managed to live without this. 

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted you?” Joel laid his damp forehead between her shoulder blades and picked up the pace. 

“Joel.” She gasped. His name seemed to be the only word she could say. It was as if he had completely consumed her. Her mind. Her body. Her every neuron. He kissed each vertebrae within reach, claiming more of her. 

More. 

“So damn long,” he answered. “And so fucking bad. Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen and look at you now, sweetheart. Just taking it. So good, just like I knew you would.” 

“Oh God, Joel.” 

He felt her shake, her arms appeared ready to give out and collapse. He wouldn’t let that happen. So, he widened his stance, the comforter bunching up around his knees. Carefully, but without warning, he fully pulled out and she wailed like it physically hurt. 

“I got you.” He shushed her, wrapping his arm around her waist and sealing her to his chest. “Come on, come here.” He guided her upright along with him and she groaned once the weight was off her arms. 

She sank back down on his cock instantly, her ass flush against his thighs. He felt even closer to her, somehow, in this position. Her skin was on fire, the sweat making her back stick to him like gum. Her pussy was drenched and dripping down his balls. 

He could feel her all over him. Everywhere. It amazed him how he managed to last this long.

Joel gripped her hip, his other hand went to cup her breast. When he gently rocked forward at the perfect angle, she clenched. 

“Goddamn.” He squeezed her breast, continuing to hit that same spot. “How are you so tight?” 

“It’s you, Joel.” She gasped. “No one - no one has ever been this deep.” 

The dormant, possessive part of his brain lit up and he growled. Joel buried himself to the hilt, until he could not claim another inch. No one but him had ever touched her here. 

Just him. 

Just him. 

Only him. 

His. 

She was soaking wet, white-hot, and he could feel himself throbbing inside her. Joel wanted to come so badly. The spicy-musk of her skin was swirling in his lower belly with a powerful, burning heat. On the brink of bursting. 

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last much longer.” He pinched her nipple as his other hand went down to play with her clit. “I wanna make you come.” 

Her only response came in a whine, a frantic nod.

Joel thrusted into her with long, deep strokes that made the bed shake. The headboard hit the wall in a dull, rhythmic thud that filled the room. Just like her trembling, needy moans, his own low groans, and the heady-salt scent of sex. 

She threaded her fingers into his hair and haled his mouth toward hers. She kissed him, or more so, tried to. It was more of just lips devouring whatever was within reach: cheeks and chin and the curve of mouths. It wasn’t the best angle, but it didn’t matter. 

In this moment, nothing else mattered to him but her. 

Despite the tightness in his balls, Joel somehow held back his release. He gritted his teeth, burrowed his face into her neck, and quickly rubbed her clit. The high-pitched sound of his name lingered on her swollen lips as her walls squeezed around him like a fist. 

It wasn’t until her cunt was spasming around him that he finally drove forward. He was buried so deep inside her that he practically snarled when he came. 

He spilled into the condom, but pretended to be filling her up instead. He would watch his cum drool out of her, only to stuff it all back in with his fingers. 

Joel clutched her against him as his hips gave a few final jerks. He would have liked to stay inside her until he went completely soft, but the condom was overflowing. Cum or her slick or more likely a mix of both was soaking into the hair between his thighs. He decided not to test the durability of this specific condom brand. The last time he did that, well – it was obvious how that turned out. 

Holding the condom at the base, he slipped out of her and dropped onto his ass with a few pops and cracks. Damn, he really should stretch more.

His eyes fell to where her legs were spread and her sex was still gaping from him – for him. His mouth went dry. He wanted to lean over and quench his thirst, fill her with his tongu- 

“What’re you lookin’ at there?” The sound of her lilted voice made his gaze abruptly snap to her face. 

He must’ve been blushing because her lips split into a smug grin. Clearly, she knew what caught his attention. But even after two orgasms, she was still a little sassy. Still too damn perceptive for her own good, meanwhile he could barely form a coherent sentence. 

She straddled his thighs, careful to avoid his semi-soft cock. 

“It’s okay, you can look. I mean, it’s yours now, isn’t it?” Her soft, small voice cut through the post-sex fog in his brain. She was looking so vulnerable, so exposed, completely naked in his lap. Even he was more covered up than her, and all he had covering him was a flimsy, full condom that he had not yet found the energy to get up and throw away. 

Isn’t it? Joel got the sense it was not a genuine question, but more of a reiteration – a confirmation. Are we on the same page? 

Whatever she meant, he nodded his head. 

“It is.” He cradled her cheek. “But only if it comes with the rest of you. I’m a greedy man, sweetheart. I want it all.” 

She beamed at him. 

“Well, that makes two of us,” she declared while brushing a sweaty tuft of his hair out of his face. “I want everything you come with, Joel. And when I say everything - I mean everything. The whole package.” 

She might’ve not said Sarah’s name, but he knew that’s what she meant. 

His lips parted, amazed by how easily the words came out of her mouth. That was the first time a woman had ever acknowledged that he came as a two-for-one deal without even a hint of cynicism in their tone. Obviously, Joel realized a kid was a lot to take on. Especially since Lisa wasn’t in the picture at all, but there were some women who made it sound like Sarah was baggage, which was insane. Sarah was the best part of him. 

Speechless, Joel kissed her firmly on the mouth. It was warm and sweet and surging through his chest like an electric current. This is what it was supposed to be like. He could feel her lips break into a smile before he pulled away. 

“Stay here. Let me get you cleaned up.” 

She laid back on the bed without argument, and he disappeared into the bathroom. Joel stuffed the condom into the tin-foil wrapper, then buried it under wads of tissues and empty toilet paper rolls at the bottom of the trash can, just in case Sarah used his bathroom. He didn’t want her to see that. 

After cleaning himself up, he returned with a warm, damp washcloth. She looked pleasantly surprised, a little shocked. Wordlessly, she parted her legs with enough space for him to fit. 

“Such a gentleman,” she finally said after he gently wiped down her thighs. 

“Maybe.” He moved over her tender, swollen folders with even more caution. “Or maybe I just wanted to get a closer look.” 

He winked and she giggled. 

“You had your face buried down there like twenty minutes ago - don’t think you can get much closer than that.” 

True. Joel snorted and tossed the washcloth into his laundry hamper. He went over to his dresser and dug out an old, oversized t-shirt from the bottom of his drawer.

“Caught this at a Longhorns game from one of those t-shirt cannons,” he said when handing her the folded shirt with her panties on top. 

“Ooooooh impressive.” She playfully wiggled her brows, just slightly taunting him. He didn’t expect anything less. 

His boxers from earlier were still damp, so he put on a fresh pair. 

“So, what time are you picking Sarah up?” she asked, seemingly waiting to bring up his kid until he wasn't butt-ass naked. 

“Actually, she’s staying at her friend’s house tonight.” 

“Well, that’s interesting.” 

Joel hummed his response. He was grabbing a pair of sweatpants from the closet when suddenly the home phone on the nightstand lit up, ringing. Only solicitors called that phone, anymore – shit, his cellphone was downstairs. 

He would’ve ignored it, but what if it was Sarah? 

Joel raced to the phone with his pants still clutched in his hand. Once he saw the caller ID, he groaned.

“It’s Tommy.” 

She nodded for him to answer, and so he did. Very reluctantly. “Hello?” Joel swore if Tommy was in jail again, he was going to let him rot there until next week. 

“Hey there, Joel.” Definitely not jail – too happy. “What’s going on?” 

“Uh,” Joel paused and looked at his bed where Teddy was laying in only his t-shirt and a pair of panties. What a beautiful sight. He couldn’t help but laugh to himself; Tommy wouldn’t believe him even if he told the truth. Joel tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder, so he could put on his pants. “Nothing.” 

Teddy grinned at him like they were teenagers lying to their parents. 

“Nothing? Huh?” Tommy snorted. “Then what’s Teddy’s car doing in your driveway?” 

Oh no. 

Joel nearly tripped over his pant leg on his way to the window. The street lights were on, but the sky was still a light enough blue where he could clearly see Tommy standing in the driveway, waving with a classic little brother grin on his face. “What the hell are you doing here?” 

“I was coming by to drag your ass out and wait - are you fucking shirtless?” 

Joel cursed, backing away from the window like it burned him. The cover was blown and he hoped Teddy didn’t mind, but it wasn’t his fault that his brother came over uninvited. He looked at her and she was just smiling, appearing wildly amused. 

She shrugged, then yelled. “Hi Tommy.” 

Tommy howled in his ear, loud enough that he could hear it through the glass. She immediately burst out laughing, no longer having to hide. Joel shook his head, but he couldn’t even be annoyed or mad. Not right now. 

“You dirty dog.” 

Fucking Tommy. 

#pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miler x reader #joel miller fanfiction #last of us fanfiction #joel the last of us #joel x reader #joel miller

[gloomwitchwrites]

Say Yes

Bounty Hunter Boba Fett x Female Reader

Content & Trigger Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): fluff, heavy suggestive themes, protective!Boba, Mandalorian!Boba, light angst, non-descriptive sex

Word Count: 2.5k

A young, handsome bounty hunter on Tatooine makes it a daily intention to ask you to marry him.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // fluffuary 2024 masterlist

Mando’a Translations: cyar’ika – darling / sweetheart riduur – partner / spouse “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde” – marriage vows

“Marry me, cyar’ika.”

You glance up from the worn open tome resting on the counter in front of you. “Again? Really, Boba?”

The Mandalorian helmet, dented with flaking green paint, tilts slightly to the right. “You called me ‘Boba’ this time,” teases the bounty hunter.

You roll your eyes and push off from the counter, cheeks heating even as you grumble in false irritation.

Boba Fett, Jabba the Hutt’s favorite mercenary for hire, has asked you to marry him every day for several weeks now. And each time, you have refused him. For the first few, you were overly polite. But as his attempts continued, your polite rejections transformed into snarky quips and blatant dismissals.

It’s not like you don’t find the man attractive. Underneath the armor is an incredibly handsome man, and his attention has always been sincere. But Boba Fett is a dangerous man, and you’re just a simple shopkeeper trying to make a living in Mos Espa. In that regard, the two of you are incompatible no matter how much he persists and chases after you.

“I like how you say my name,” continues Boba, his voice a soft purr. “Sounds beautiful on your tongue.”

“And you are too forward,” you snap, knowing that your sharpness is just a cover. Which is silly, because you do like him, and Boba seems to understand this. Boba burrows beneath your skin, and you cannot dig him out.

“Am I?” he asks with mock offense. You really want to throttle him, but you also really want to kiss him.

“Yes. I don’t know how many times I have to say this, Fett,” you emphasize, deliberately using his last name. “But a ‘no’ is a ‘no’ even if you don’t like it.”

Yep. Push him away. Keep pushing. Maybe he’ll take the hint this time.

Boba Fett stands tall, arms crossed over his chest, one hip slightly popped. With the helmet on, you have no idea what his expression might be or what he’s feeling. Not knowing is maddening, and it quickens your heartbeat, a growing tingle buzzing in the tips of your fingers.

“So, all those touches meant nothing to you?” he asks with just the faintest hint of roughness in his tone.

“Yes,” you lie.

Boba shifts on his feet, shoulders straightening. “What about all the kisses you’ve given me? Hm? Nothing?”

Kriffing hell, why is this man always so direct? It’s nice that Boba is good about telling you what he wants and what he’s thinking for the most part, but it always catches you off-guard. It makes you weak, melting you into goo that he can mold however he wishes.

“Those are not enough to build a marriage, Boba,” you shrug. “There has to be more.”

“But there is more.” He steps around the counter, stepping into your space. “Isn’t there?”

Boba is right. There is more. There has always been more. Whenever Boba is on Tatooine, he is visiting you, talking with you, bringing you gifts, fixing things around the shop without you having to ask. He has offered to take you out after you’ve closed shop. He routinely takes a personal interest in your safety and security. Because of that, no one bothers you or tries to harass additional credits out of you. They stay away and respect you because they see you as Boba’s woman.

And it isn’t only that. He only ever speaks softly to you. He only ever treats you with respect and shows general interest in your life. The most maddening thing is how many women have actively shown their interest in him to his face, and he has brushed them all aside. Even after all these refusals on your end, Boba still declines their advances, and shows up at your shop each day insisting that you marry him.

“Why do you keep denying this, cyar’ika? You know I’d make you happy.” Boba is standing too close, almost on top of you.

“The shop is closed,” you reply. “If you’re not going to make a purchase, you should leave.”

Boba nods his head and backs up, reaching for an item off the shelf without looking. He deposits some credits on the counter, much more than what the item is actually worth.

“I’ll return tomorrow,” he says over his shoulder, tapping the counter as he makes his exit.

The soft chime that alerts you to when the front door opens echoes throughout the room.

You’re in the backroom organizing. It’s the next day, and Boba hasn’t shown himself yet. This might be him, but it’s likely not. There are times when Boba does not come, and you are fully aware that those are times when Jabba sends him off for a job.

“Sorry. We’re closed.” You step out from the backroom and immediately freeze.

Three Nikto bikers loiter in the middle of the shop. It’s evident that they are not here to purchase anything. Their dark eyes roam over the shelves and tables, but once they notice you, they focus in, drawing closer.

“Apologies,” you say, attempting to project your voice, to sound tougher than you are. “We’ve closed for the evening. If there is something you need right away, I can ring you up. Otherwise, you’ll need to leave.” You do your best to keep your voice steady and calm, but you hear the gentle shake.

“This street is our new territory,” hisses the leader of the group. “We were stopping by to offer our…services.”

Services, meaning protection, meaning “pay us or you’ll be a target.”

Tatooine might be overrun with crime lords and criminal activity, but the main powers at play are not known to harass the smaller folks just trying to make a living. These are outliers. These are individuals who answer to no one but themselves, and believe they can carve a piece out for their own gain.

Rarely are they ever successful, but that doesn’t mean they don’t try.

Just as you open your mouth to reply, the soft chime comes again. This time everyone turns and you sigh with relief when you see who it is.

“Boba Fett,” says the Nikto slowly. His shoulders stiffen and they all put their hands on their blasters.

The bounty hunter does no answer right away. His helmet moves, scanning the Nikto, and then you, assessing. Even from across the shop, you sense Boba’s anger. There are few things that rile him up, but you’re one of them.

“It’s not smart moving in on Jabba’s territory. Or to harass what’s mine.” When Boba says mine, he growls it. The possessiveness in his tone heats your flesh, sends a sharp spike of desire down to your belly.

The Nikto all glance at each other before the leader addresses Fett. “We didn’t know the female was yours, Boba.” He holds his hands out in a placating gesture, indicating that he didn’t mean any harm. Yet you know that isn’t true. Their intention from the start was to harass you for credits.

You scoff at female but decide to let it go.

“I think it’s best that you leave.” Boba steps to the side.

The duo glance at their leader for direction. The Nikto’s features are impassive, but he eventually inclines his head, exiting as Boba insist they do. When the last one leaves, Boba momentarily glances in your direction. The door stands open, and Boba exits with him.

When it whooshes shut, you sprint over to the wall panel, immediately engaging the lock and shuttering the windows. You stand in the silent shop for a few minutes trying to calm your heartrate. Once it’s manageable, and not beating so hard it might burst from your chest, you head upstairs to your small apartment above the shop.

By the time you’re curled up in bed, you’re no longer anxious, but there is the slightest bit of tension that lingers in your limbs. Sighing, you turn over in the bed, only to hear the brief pulse of a jetpack shutting off and boots on the small balcony outside your bedroom window.

Slowly, you push up to sitting, the bedsheets falling to your waist. You know it’s Boba. He does this some nights. Camps out and protect you in the only way he knows how because you’re too stubborn to take him up on his numerous marriage proposals.

Tonight, it’s obvious as to why he’s out there. Part of you is reluctant to leave him outside. You’d prefer it if he were with you, within arm’s reach, to see him without the helmet. Plus, nights on Tatooine can grow cold. You want him inside where it’s warm.

On quiet feet, you go to the door that leads outside. Opening it silently, you stick your head out into the chilly air, finding Boba as he leans against the exterior wall, arms crossed.

“You should be in bed, cyar’ika,” chides Boba playfully.

You swallow, suddenly nervous now that you’re confronting him. “Do you want to come inside?” you ask, a bit hesitantly.

Maybe it’s the uncertainty in your tone, or the way you shrink back a bit into the interior of the room, because Boba is suddenly alert, all of his attention attuned to you.

Boba immediately pushes off from the wall and approaches you, his hand on the door, pushing it wider. “Are you hurt? Did one of them touch you?”

You shake your head vehemently. “No. I’m fine. Promise.”

Boba’s chest heaves slightly but you’re not sure if it’s from his sudden movement or a releasing of relief. He glances over his shoulder at Mos Espa, the t-shaped visor of his helmet fixated on the city’s skyline. Turning back, Boba nods.

You step away from the door and Boba enters. Even with the door closed and the windows’ shutters slanted to dim the moonlight, some of it still spills over the room like tiny white rivers.

His helmet hisses as the pressure seal disengages. Slowly, Boba lifts the helmet off his head and sets it aside on a nearby table. He runs his fingers through his dark hair, the ends sticking up slightly after he does so. With the faintest movement, Boba turns, and that moonlight cuts sharp glowing lines over his face, highlighting tanned skin and dark eyes.

You don’t even realize you’re moving closer to him until Boba grabs you by the waist and pulls you against his armor-clad body. Instinctively, your hands reach out, locking onto the beskar. Boba’s head dips and yours rises to meet him automatically, and yet there is no connection. It is simply holding, a waiting between two hesitant people.

“You haven’t asked me to marry you today,” you murmur.

The corner of Boba’s lips turns upward in a soft smile. “Will you marry me, cyar’ika?”

“No,” you say automatically, before the two of you start laughing.

“Let’s try that again.” Boba reaches up and cradles your cheek. “Cyar’ika. Will you marry me? Will you allow me to speak the words of my people? And will you speak them back?”

The words of his people. The Mandalorian marriage vows. You are distinctly aware of what they are and what they mean. Which is why Boba’s earnestness isn’t fake to you. Mandalorians take their weddings vows seriously even though the process of exchange is simple. It is the intention behind the exchange that is most important to them.

That is how you know Boba speaks the truth, that him asking you to marry him is a genuine desire of his.

“Passion does not make a relationship,” you reply.

The answer is a shift away from actually having to answer. How many times have you and Boba ended up on the floor of the backroom after rejecting him? It’s more than you can count on your hands.

“That’s all this is to you?” he laughs. “You know I can give you more. I do more than that now.”

You curl forward a bit, rest your forehead against the beskar. “I’m scared,” you whisper.

“Of what?”

“Of what will change.”

Boba’s fingers brush under your chin and lightly guide your gaze back to his. “I wouldn’t ask you to give anything up.”

“Yes, but—”

Boba gives the slightest shake of his head and you instantly quiet. “Do you want me?” he asks. “Tell the truth.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“I want you,” you breathe, allowing the words to drip off your tongue.

“May I have one of your kisses?” he asks softly, one gloved thumb lightly pressing down on your bottom lip.

“Yes,” you breathe.

Boba closes the distance, forms perfectly to you. It is slow and delicate and sweet. Your body hums with energy, and when you press for more, Boba growls and pulls back, hastily ripping off his gloves to reveal his bare hands.

Then he’s cupping the side of your face, drawing you back to him, tasting and tasting and tasting until your fingers are clawing at him in desperation. When he breaks the kiss, you still lean forward as if you can reach him.

“Then repeat the words with me, cyar’ika. Become my riduur.”

Boba presses his lips to yours, draws forth an air-stealing shiver from deep within your lungs.

“Mhi solus tome.”

“Mhi solus tome,” you repeat.

We are one together.

Boba slides an arm around your waist to drape softly over your curves. “Mhi solus dar’tome,” he says.

You say it back to him. “Mhi solus dar’tome.”

We are one when parted.

“Mhi me’dinui an.”

“Mhi me’dinui an.”

We share all.

This time, Boba slots his pelvis against yours, and you understand his heated intention.

“Mhi ba’juri verde.”

“Mhi ba’juri verde,” you say with shaky breath.

We will raise warriors.

Boba snuggles the side of your neck, breathes in your scent. “I’d like to lay with my riduur.” His fingers find the edge of your sleeping robes.

“As long as I can have my riduur the same way.”

Boba grins against your throat. Together, the two of you remove his armor, piece by piece by piece. The moment his flightsuit is unzipped and he steps out of it, Boba is on you, drawing your lips to his, desperately claiming what is now so rightfully his.

Your own clothes are gone before making it to the bed. Boba runs his hands over your back, sliding down to lift you into his arms. Your legs wrap around his middle, and Boba carries you off, placing you gently onto your back.

His mouth upon your skin is a brand. Hot. Searing. It goes lower, lower still until you’re crying out for him, begging for him to be with you as your riduur should. Boba is happy to do so, sliding between your thighs so perfectly, you both lose yourselves momentarily before becoming nothing but a raging storm, waves crashing into each other repeatedly until one of you breaks.

Rest does not come until the morning suns begin to ascend over the horizon. You do not open your shop. And Boba does not return to Jabba’s palace.

There is peace for a while.

Harmony.

taglist:

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[blingblong55]

Funny Feeling -141

Photo credit: @ave661 (left)

A/N: König will be done in the next post, I'm sorry I couldn't add him to this one..

Not a request but my own need for this:

141&Konig find out (same time as you do) that you have PCOS. You of course are sad because of the fertility issues and all the problems this condition brings, but not to worry, your partner is here to help and uplift you.  ---- F!Reader, reader with pcos, fluff, angst, comfort, established!realtionship, tw: self worth issues ----

A/N: I needed comfort and well I figured you might too so.. here's this

"All the signs point to yes, the way you have given me a description and the tests we ran," the doctor breaks the news. "This can't be right? Maybe there was a mistake?" Your hand holding onto your husband's hand. "It's PCOS, ma'am." You shook your head. You read every article, and watched every video, and even though you said your signs must be for something else, here you are. 

"What does this mean for her?" your husband asks, knowing you are just trying to find yourself in the void you've been pushed to. "Well it can mean a lot of things, for example..." the doctor's voice fades. Your eyes are on that desk, the lighting of the room only making this news worse. Tears form in your eyes. What does this mean? No family, no picket fence, and Sunday walk with your kids. 

You wanted to cry and argue against the results but it's all there in that paper. Your heart breaks and you grip his hand again. 

The ride home was silent, he knew it was best this way. You thought of it all, the giggles, the drawings on the wall, the stained clothes, and the staying up late that you'll never get to do. 

"We're home," he mentions softly, his hand on yours again as you are lost in thought. All you can do is get out of the car and walk inside. You know it's wrong to push him away but it's the only thing that feels right. Your emotions are all over the place. You feel more disgusted with yourself. The hair that's growing on the chin and chest, the stupid periods you've missed, the weight gain, the way you look around and see everyone building your families and you, sitting in a bathroom, undressed as you look at the weight and wished you were 'better'. 

John Price: 

The first thing he does is leave you alone. He doesn't know how it feels, however, he knows that if he were in your place, he'd too need some time alone. He knows one thing, if the places were changed, you'd be doing something to make him cheer up, anything. "My love, I'm going out for a few minutes, you need me, I'm a phone call away." he kisses your forehead but when you refuse to let him kiss your soft skin, he sighs and walks away. 

They say, to be loved is to be known and he knows you all too well. So, he goes to every store in town, looks for that one book you've been looking for, and then, there it is, the flowers, the takeout and the one blanket you eyed for a little too long when shopping with him. 

Meanwhile, in the small bathroom, you lie down. Eyes on the ceiling as you feel yourself cry once more. Stupid, stupid, stupid body of mine. Why must this be your place? Why can't you give him the one chance at happiness? One kid at least, two at best and a stupid family dog that could be running around during family walks. 

"I hate you-"

"Love? Hey, open up, I'm home," he says as he knocks on the door of the bathroom. "Go away-"

"Not happening, open up my sweetheart, let me show you everything will be alright," his voice was so soft and gentle. 

Once he finally has you in his arms, guiding you to the cosy living room, he covers your eyes and smiles. "We'll talk about this all later but for now, let me release some stress."

"But-"

"Love, no. I'm not letting you think that just because of this condition you are less than any other woman out there. You are so much more than just someone who can give me children. You are this incredibly funny, smart and seriously kind person. You're my girl, nothing changes that, kids or not. Now, let's eat, watch some film I found and then, we'll stay up and talk about today." 

Simon Riley: 

You've been in the bedroom, looking at the pictures your siblings have sent you of your nieces and/or nephews. Their little giggles, the silly little things they do when they get annoyed when not solving a small puzzle. Tears form in your eyes. "Lovie, I got the bath- Lovie?" His voice was softer than ever. He recognizes that frown and the only thing he can do is walk to you, wrap his arms around you and give you a tight hug. His lips meet your forehead. "I feel broken like there is something very wrong with me," you confess as small tears fall. "You're not broken, lovie," he whispers. 

"Well, it feels like I am, everything is wrong with me, I feel disgusted with myself."

He shakes his head, "If there is one thing I've learned is that even if you feel like you are completely worthless, it's a temporary thing. At the end of the day, you are much more than being the one I have a family with. So what if we can't have sleepless nights? You're not here to just be a mother. And, if we want kids, I'm sure we'll adopt or maybe we can search for other stuff- the point here is, you are much more than serving as some womb for our kids." 

He kisses picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. "Now, let me take care of you, okay? You do it for me when I come home and it's time you get treated the same." 

One thing with him is that he shows you his true love, admiration and excitement with acts of service. He won't directly tell you all his emotions but his actions do tell you all you need to know. As you lay back on the tub, he grabs your hand and kisses it. "Everything will be alright, I promise you that much," he smiles and slowly scrubs your body, the feeling of the bubbles and warm water soothe you. 

Kyle Garrick: 

It's bizarre. The rain pitter-pattered against the windowpane as you sat curled up on the sofa, your thoughts a whirlwind of worry and frustration. Today had been one of those days where everything seemed to spiral out of control. To be diagnosed with this condition had hit you out of a tidal wave, and left you feeling overwhelmed and uncertain about the future. Why must you be this way?

Kyle, your ever-supportive husband, noticed the heaviness in your demeanour the moment he stepped through the door. Droplets of rain clung to his jacket as he approached you, concern etched on his features. "Y/N, love, are you alright?" he asked softly, kneeling beside you. He knows you, that weak smile falters almost immediately. "It's a lot to take in," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. Kyle wraps his arms around you, pulling you close in a comforting embrace. "I know, darling. But you're not alone in this. We'll figure it out together, okay?" he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. 

You nod, feeling the weight of his words anchor to the present moment. You lean into his warmth, finding solace in the familiar scent of his cologne mingled with the rain outside. 

For the rest of the evening, Kyle made it his mission to care for you in every way he could. He brewed your favourite herbal tea and fetched the cosy blanket to wrap you in it. He listened attentively as you, for so long, poured out your fears and frustrations. In between doubt, he offered words of reassurance. 

As the evening goes on, he notices how the weight of your diagnosis left you with a burden. He can see the sadness etched into your features, the worry lines creasing your forehead as you sit and stare into the distance. "Love, what's on your mind?" he asks softly, reaching out to gently squeeze your hand. 

You let out a heavy sigh, and your shoulders slump as you face him, "I just can't shake this feeling off, babe," you admit to him once more, that soft voice of yours tinged with sadness. "It's a lie no matter what I do, this stupid condition will always be a part of me." Tears well in your eyes. 

His heart aches at the sound of defeat in your voice, but he refuses to let your despair consume not just you but him as well. With a tender smile, he cups your cheek, brushing away the stray tear with his thumb. How can you tell someone you want to listen to and understand them? How can you show love for them when they can't even accept love for something they can't control?  

"Y/N, listen to me," he says firmly, his gaze unwavering. "This condition doesn't define you. It's just one part of who you are, love. And it certainly isn't your fault." 

You blink back tears, your throat tightening with emotion. "But it feels like...like I'm broken," your voice barely above a whisper. He shook his head, his expression softening with understanding. "You aren't broken, Y/N. Not even in the slightest," he insists, his voice laced with conviction. "You are this strong, beautiful and capable of so much more than you realise. And I will be here every step of the way, holding your hand through it all."

With that, Gaz pulls you into his arms, holding you close as if to shield you from pain. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, pouring all his love and reassurance into the simple gesture. At that moment, surrounded by his unwavering love and support, you felt a flicker of hope ignite in you. 

In the days that followed, he was your constant support and encouragement. He researched PCOS tirelessly, eager to understand your condition better and help you navigate the complexities. He accompanies you to doctor's appointments, holding your hand through every moment. He also made small challenges to not just your lifestyle but his. New healthier habits, medication, self-help books and moments of joy filled your life with him. 

John "Soap" MacTavish:

The soft glow of the bedside lamp, once you reach the bedroom, casts a warm ambience in the room as you sit on the edge of the bed, your mind clouded with worry and uncertainty. You stare blankly at the floor, thoughts consumed by this condition. It felt as though the world had turned upside down in an instant, leaving you lost and vulnerable. 

Johnny, your steadfast husband, watched you with concern from his place beside you. He could see the turmoil written in your eyes. Without a word, he reached out and gently took your hand in his, offering a silent anchor in this storm. 

You squeeze his hand tightly, seeking solace in the warmth of his touch. "What am I now, Johnny?" you confess. "It's like... everything I thought I knew about myself has been thrown into question."

Johnny's heart ached, he can't let you suffer alone, not like this. "You don't have to deal with this alone, bonnie," he kisses the top of your hand. "We're in this together, remember?"

You nod, eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I know, but... it's just so hard," your voice trembles with emotion. It's not love if they leave during something so hard, they say. It's unconditional love when they stay, I say. 

"I know it's hard, bonnie. But I also know how strong you are," he gives you a small smile. "You are much more than this diagnosis." It's beautiful, how in the middle of this heartache, he still gives you this funny yet warm feeling. "And I will be here every step of the way, supporting you, comforting you, and loving you with all that I am," he promises.  -----

A/N: If you have this, I'm always here, it's okay to sometimes rely on others. This isn't something to be ashamed about<3

Tags:

@shadofireshinobi @kit-kats06 @joyfulmarvelofavengers @luvecarson @hilmiponken @asgardswinter @141swhore @miscfandomwrites @itstrapbunnybubbles @rockcollector3000 @certifiedcodbabygirl @eicee @liyanahelena @theineandonlyidiot @johfaam0 @goldenmclaren @froggy-anon @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @frizzseaberries @istillcantfindausername @idklols @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @undercover-smutlover @juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @enarien @simonssweetgirl @willowaftxn83-87 @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @pbcartii @llelannie @macnches2 @anonymuslydumb @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @nyx_flower @sparky--bunny @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @kaoyamamegami @the_royal_bee @soapybutt17 @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @thegreyjoyed @mychemicalimalance @marshiely @tuihiatus

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[girlreviews]

Review #146: Parallel Lines, Blondie

Man oh man oh man. I love Blondie so much. I found this record in the Windsor Oxfam. I don’t remember exactly how old I was, but I remember what boyfriend was with me so that puts me between 15 and 18. Yeah, same guy. I actually don’t remember if he ended up getting his hands on this record or not. I think I still have it. Will rifle through my collection later to check.

Blondie was in the “being cool” wilderness for some absolutely crazy reason at that point, and nobody really gave a shit about them anymore. When I was 17 or 18 they were playing the Reading Hexagon which is honestly still just such an unbelievable insult I’m still annoyed about it. I’ll circle back to that.

Parallel Lines epitomizes the complete and total coolness and badassery of Debbie Harry. I have never wanted to be someone more than I wanted to be her. So much confidence. Such incredible cheekbones. Such commitment to art. No apologies. The voice of an angel one moment and snarling whimsical warnings, like, hey you, don’t fuck with me, the next. Always standing in front of all of those completely non-descript nobody dudes. Yeah they’re playing the music, but who cares, who are they? It’s all her. She is Blondie.

Can I pick a favorite? It opens with Hanging on the Telephone, in which she is really threatening to rip the phone clean off the wall. It might be that one. But we’ve also got the classic One Way Or Another, which needs no comment, and one of my actual favorites of all time, Heart of Glass which never fails to fuck me up, but like, it’s a god damn disco track? Like sure, yeah, let’s boogie away our heart break. And I did. And I have. And I will. And these are all SINGLES. We aren’t even discussing the actual album tracks yet. Just listen to it. Honorable mention goes to Sunday Girl, which I always really loved. It’s cute and it’s kind of sweet in a very teenage girl kind of way that worked for me since I was in fact, a teenage girl. Also, not on the official album release, but there was a version of that track where the latter half was sung entirely in French and I always really dug it.

Okay so circling back to the Hexagon. This is a weird story and I’m still not sure how I feel about it, to this day. As I said, Blondie were playing a show at the Hexagon. I was absolutely obsessed with them, and Debbie Harry. I was also 17 or 18 and spent every penny I had on going to shows, but those pennies were pretty limited. I worked as a waitress at the pub that was two doors down from my house. It was full of characters. One such character was a regular, he was in his late 40s, was very wealthy, didn’t drive, was single, and spent literally every bit of his spare time in that pub. Think on that. He paid a lot of attention to the various young women that worked there. Was he creepy? No not exactly. But did it make you uncomfortable? Yes it did. Because you never knew when he might make it weird. Everyone liked him well enough. One day out of the blue this guy presented me with five tickets to the Blondie show. I didn’t know what in the hell to say or whether to accept them. Or what it meant. Whether there were expectations attached to them. Whether it was okay to take them. I was uncomfortable. I was 17.

Here’s what happened. My Mom, who sort of knew him too, since he was always there, decided it was fine, because she wanted to go. But for it to be okay, she decided he also had to come. So we went, he came, and a few friends too. The thing is though, she never knew him like I did. I saw him every day. I saw him with the other girls that worked at the pub. I saw him drunk off his ass. I don’t know that I ever would have taken the tickets. Or if I did, I’m not sure I ever would have invited him. I feel a bit queasy about it to this day. I think in the end something really off-base happened one night between him and someone on staff and he got barred. That was usually the way it went with regulars who were there that often.

The other thing to note is that Blondie ended because Debbie Harry was with Chris Stein, who was literally dying of some rare autoimmune disease throughout their last tour. There were other factors at play, but essentially, they broke up because he was too sick and she stayed at his side and became his full-time carer. When he was well, he left her. They are, remarkably, still close friends to this day and still perform together. Just never forget that men are dogs, and that Blondie is and always will be Debbie Harry. I love her. To this day she looks better than I do in a mini skirt and I love that for her.

ETA: I checked and in fact, I do not still have Parallel Lines in my record collection, but I am quite confident it got lost when I moved back to the US. Also, I’m not 100% certain that show was at the Reading Hexagon. I just know it was a shitty venue not worthy of Blondie. This was 18 years ago. You get the idea.

#album review #music #music review #rolling stone top 500 #blondie #parallel lines #debbie harry

[kazmyass]

hi !! could you possibly do a oneshot or something where Mike comes home from work early one morning and he sees that the reader (could be GN or male if you happen to write male stuff) is still asleep on the couch, (they take Max’s place in being Abby’s babysitter but they DON’T work for the aunt) and he’s so tired that he ends up grabbing a blanket and cuddling up next to them? and then when they wake up they’re like “mike?? are you okay??” and he’s just a flustered mess? thank you so much! <3

Wakey Wakey

Pairings: Mike Schmidt x male!reader

Description: after a long night at work, mike just needs some comfort from abby’s babysitter, aka, his boyfriend

Warnings: little tiny sexual innuendo at the end if you squint, falling asleep together, fight scene kinda? mostly fluff tho

Words:  704

Prompt: cuddling

A/N: I LAURVED WRITING THIS MIKE IS MY LOVEEEEEEEEE send me more requests for him cus tbh, this was fun af

Mike had just had one of the worst nightmares in his life. So bad, in fact, that he left work early. It was the same nightmare he had been having for years, but instead of finding his little brother, Garett, gone a minute too late, he came face to face with the kidnapper. Only the kidnapper had a mask on- a yellow bunny mask with a purple bowtie at the bottom.

Having been caught off guard, Mike ended up on the ground, beaten and bruised, as he watched his younger brother be coaxed into the station-wagon, and driven away, never to be seen again.

As if the dream wasn’t enough, he had woken up feeling incredibly sore. Bruises littered his arms and torso, but nothing too serious. Mike was too tired to stop and question why he even had bruises in the first place. It was only a dream after all... right?

It was only 4:58 when Mike got to his house- a mere hour before he should have even left work in the first place. He fumbled with his keys, trying to find the right one to open the house. When had he acquired so many keys?

All the lights were off, except for the light above the stove, which provided just enough light for Mike to find his way to the sofa. He sat, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness, when he heard a soft snore. He looked to his right to find y/n curled up under a fleece blanket. He smiled softly. How did he get such a handsome boyfriend? And one that happened to babysit as well?

Mike scooted closer to y/n, pulling him close to his body and laying down against the pillow behind him, so that he was holding y/n. After a while he let sleep overtake him.

When y/n woke up, he was definitely surprised to see Mike home early, much less on the couch with him rather than in his own bed. Y/n crawled over Mike quietly, tiptoeing to the kitchen and turning the stove light off, as the natural light began to fill the kitchen.

He pulled out the egg carton from the fridge, as well as a pack of bacon. If Mike was home early, y/n might as well surprise him with breakfast.

“Is that eggs and bacon I smell?” Abby loudly ran into the kitchen.

“Shhh, we don’t wanna wake your brother, do we?”

“Oh right,” She whispered. “Is that eggs and bacon I smell?” She said much quieter that time.

“Yeah, thought I’d surprise Mike,” Y/n said, laughing a little to himself.

“And why is that?” Y/n jumped a little when he heard Mike’s voice. He turned to see Mike still in his security outfit with messy hair and a crooked smile on his face.

“Well you certainly surprised me when I woke up,” Y/n said. Mike blushed.

“That wasn’t- I didn’t-”

“It’s okay Mike. I liked waking up like that.” Y/n said with a soft smile.

“Waking up like what?” Abby asked, looking between the two boys.

“In your brother’s arms,” Y/n said, making Mike blush again. Abby simply stuck her tongue out and faked throwing up.

“When I grow up, I’m never gonna be in love. It’s gross,” Abby said.

“You might change your mind hun,” Y/n said.

“No,” Abby stated, matter of factly, pulling a piece of paper out of who know where and began coloring with the crayons that were already spread out on the table from last nights drawing session.

Mike wandered closer to y/n, wrapping his arms around y/n and hugging him from behind. When y/n placed his hands over Mike’s, Mike hissed.

“Mike-” Y/n looked at Mike’s knuckles that were raw from the “dream” fight. “Are you okay love? What happened?”

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” Mike murmured. Y/n got the hint that he didn’t want to talk about it but he kept it in his mind that he should ask again later.

“I liked waking up like that,” Y/n said.

“Yeah?” Mike asked, placing a kiss on y/n’s jaw.

“Yeah.”

“Well I liked falling asleep like that. Let’s do it in my bed next though. WAIT- I DIDN’T MEAN IT LIKE THAT!”

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x reader smut #smut #josh hutcherson #josh hutchinson #josh hutchinson smut #josh hutcherson smut #fnaf #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #five nights at freddys #five nights at freddy's movie #fnaf smut #fluff #abby fnaf #babysitter #fanfiction #fanfic #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x y/n #mike schmidt x you smut #mike schmidt x y/n smut #five nights at mikes #x reader #friends to lovers #mike schmidt x male reader

[bea-ce]

If only I could make you believe you deserve everything

pairing: kaveh x reader (can be read platonically or romantically)

genre: hurt/comfort, angst

summary: life is awful at times. very much so that you end up falling back to bad habits to get you through it. luckily, you have kaveh to help you guide back to the right track.

word count: 4.2k

notes: hii!! first post! (and its hurt/comfort RAHHHH) kaveh might be a little ooc as i havent gotten to him in the archon quest yet, so i apologize for that in advance! i poured my heart and soul and my own personal experiences into this,,  i apologize if the comfort is a lil wonky.

title is inspired by Nicole Dollanganger’s song “Please Eat”.

trigger warning(s): mentions of ed/having an ed, descriptive experience of having an ed, mentions of relapsing into unhealthy coping mechanisms, self inflicted harm (self harm), descriptions of self-contempt, descriptions of feelings of unworthiness.

let me know if i missed any warnings

It had been a while since the last time you’d done this. The thought of even returning back to this state was beyond you. Everything had been going so well it seemed. Sure, life still threw inconveniences towards you, but you handled them just fine, you thought.

Clearly not, as you’re now back to restraining yourself from eating and indulging yourself from something that’s vital for you to live. You knew the risks of refusing yourself food, you’d read all about the consequences and health risks of starving yourself.

Yet that is the precise reason you’re doing this.

You know how harmful this is and you know it’s bad. The knowledge of the dangers and harm in doing it is exactly why you continue doing it though: It’s your punishment. A sigh escapes your lips as you try concentrating on the paper that lay before you instead of the numbness that starts taking over your legs and the quivering of your hand. There isn’t any way for you to not notice how your body is screaming out for something to eat. It’s constantly reminding you as your vision is clouded with dark spots whenever you move and how your body shakes as you do any everyday task. Despite its cries for food, you ignore it and open the lid to the water bottle beside you and empty half of it to ignore the ache in your stomach due to its emptiness. 

It helps, somewhat, as it fools your stomach for sometime at least. In a shaky motion you place the water bottle beside the pile of assignments you have to finish before the end of this week. 

It’s difficult to get anything done when the ache in your stomach extends to the rest of your body, making the most simple task like reading over the text presented in front of you and writing down notes feeling so incredibly demanding on your body. A groan escapes your lips as you lean back into the chair and drag your hand across your face in annoyance. You need to finish these assignments, yet you can’t. Everything feels so hazy and your mind is blank, unable to think of anything other than the feeling of hunger growing more intense.

The bustling from the kitchen can be heard all the way into your room. Usually at this hour you’d sit by the kitchen table and eat with Alhaitham and Kaveh, but you’ve locked yourself away in your room, drowning yourself in work to ignore the deep wretched feelings that linger within you. A faint knock on the door echoes throughout the room as a voice calls out from the other side. It’s Kaveh’s voice, calling out to you. "(Y/N)?" Your name is muffled by the closed door as you turn around in your seat to look at the source of the sound. There stands Kaveh, holding a plate with food in his hand while the other one is still gripping onto the door handle.

Your eyes quickly scan his face before they dart down to look at the plate he’s holding.

It’s too much, you think as you look at the contents of the food. Numbers appear inside your head the longer you stare at the plate, feeling repulsed at the thought of putting anything in your mouth and fulfilling your hunger at the cost of the imaginary numbers going up.

You turn around to face the paper you’ve been staring blankly at for the last hour, waving Kaveh off. “I’ve already eaten.” You answer courtly. You haven’t, but telling him you weren’t hungry wasn’t an option. Kaveh would be reluctant had you answered that you weren’t hungry and placed the food by your table instead. The thought alone that he might do that makes you want to cry and scream in panic. You can’t risk letting yourself indulge in the food that he’s made: You must go through with your own punishment.

Kaveh sighs and grabs the door handle, about to leave and close the door before the sound of your stomach growling bounces off the walls. He stops in his tracks as his grip on the plate tightens. You can feel his eyes boring into your back as you tense up at how your stomach contradicts your words from earlier. A deep terror stirs within you as your thoughts wander off to all the possible reactions you might receive from the blond man at the revelation. You hear how he shuffles behind you and closes the door behind him as he approaches you. You dare not to turn around to look at him, instead you hold up your face above the paper and stare intently onto it, trying to focus on the words that dance around across the paper to ignore Kaveh’s look of pity and concern.

Kaveh is standing right next to you, his grip on the plate is so incredibly tight that his knuckles have gone white. His eyes are soft and laced with worry as he looks down on you, and to be honest; he’s not sure how to handle this situation he’s being faced with right now. He places the plate next to your bedside table instead of the table in front of you, knowing better than shoving unwanted food up your face. It’s not what you need right now.

Kaveh sits on the side of your bed, boring his eyes into the back of your head as he waits for you to do the first move, to begin the conversation. He doesn’t want to scare you off now that he’s found out. He can feel the pain within you. He can see the hurt and the desperation, but he has no words to fill the silence. He doesn't know how he could possibly help you, but he wants to. More than that, he wants to try.

“I’m fine” you try to subside the situation, playing it off to only being a one time thing when it’s clear to the both of you that it isn’t. 

Kaveh interrupts you. “You’re not fine.” Kaveh still has the same gentleness to him, but there’s a certain amount of firmness to his words too. It leaves no room for you to slither your way out of his confrontation. “Are you hurting yourself? Are you starving yourself?”

The words feel like he had just physically assaulted you, as if he had pulled out a knife and stabbed you in the chest while twirling the knife around inside of your heart. The words feel as if Kaveh had just falsely accused you of a crime you hadn’t committed. 

But the two of you know better than that. You both know that the reason you feel so attacked is because Kaveh is calling you out, and rightfully so.

“No! No. I am not starving myself.” The words come out much harsher than you had intended them to be, sounding defensive and giving yourself away to Kaveh. The pile of paperwork that needs to be done stares at you mockingly as you look down on the paper in front of you that is still blank.

“I’m just- I don’t want to eat.” It’s half the truth. You do in fact not want to eat, but it’s for all the wrong reasons you don’t want to eat. Kaveh sighs as he gets up from your bed and walks up behind you. For a moment he almost reaches out to you, but he draws his hand back and places it on your chair instead of your shoulder, like he had intended to. He’s reluctant to touch you. In this moment right now, you’re fragile, and he must tread carefully so as to not break you.

“Do you think I don’t see it?” His voice is gentle, but there’s a certain edge to it. It cuts right through any excuses that might slip past your mouth to escape this conversation neither of you want to have. The words have you cornered, and as if you were reliving an experience much like this -where you were confronted and you admitted, only to be rejected from the care and help you needed- you feel a need to run away from him. To run away from your home, from the house, run, run and run. But where would you run? There’s no way for you to run away from him, and even if you did: Where would you run? 

Would you even have the energy to run away from him with the way your vision would cloud with black spots covering your sight and with the way your legs feel numb?

Reality hits you like a brick as you realize that Kaveh has you cornered and at his mercy.

A hitched breath escapes your lips as you feel your hands and feet going cold along with being overcome by dreadfulness as the situation you’re in slowly sinks in.

“This is unhealthy, and you know it, don’t you?” It’s not much of a question really. His voice is firm, trying to cover up his own shakiness as your condition dawns upon him. “Please.. could you talk to me?” he pleads, letting his hand fall from the chair, down to your shoulder giving it a comforting squeeze. The contact makes you flinch as it pulls you back from your swarm of thoughts, back into the present with him. The words seem stuck in your mouth, suffocating you and preventing you from voicing your thoughts and feelings that you’re left only shaking your head at his request of opening up. Kaveh lets out a sigh as he lets his hand fall from your shoulder. For a moment, you think he’s given up on you and will leave you alone to deal with your misery by yourself; the thought causes you both pain and relief. Instead, he walks around your chair and crouches next to you as he looks up to you from below.

“Please. Talk to me.” he begins as he balances himself on the armrest all while tilting his head up at you. “What can I do to help you? You can tell me anything.”

“I don’t know!” you finally exclaim as your face falls into your hands. You inhale shakily as Kaveh continues to inspect your face for something, anything.

“I don’t.. know.”

Everything around you spins like an unpleasant merry-go-round ride as your vision becomes clouded by the black spots appearing before you.

One of the consequences of not eating, you suppose.

How you wished that you could’ve kept this secret from him a little longer. Long enough for him to not have to have this confrontation with you right now.

Kaveh can only feel pity as he looks at you. You look so fragile right now, so weak. It hurts him to see you so, to see your body shaking from your hunger.

He has a question that he wants to ask, but he feels afraid to. You don't owe him anything, he supposes. 

"Why are you doing this to yourself?" How do you ask someone why they are harming themselves? How do you say that without it coming across in a terrible way? Kaveh had an immense sense of empathy, but even that had its limits.

"I deserve it." 

The words slip out your mouth with ease, as if the question had no other answer but that. Tears that you had been holding back from the moment your secret was out swell up in your eyes and threaten to fall down on the blank, empty paper sheet that should’ve been filled in by now. The dripping of your tears resounds in your head and you pray that Kaveh doesn’t hear how you’re covering your paperwork in tears.

"I deserve it." You repeat the words shakily this time as a sob finally manages to escape your mouth. All you want to do is make yourself as small as possible so you can just vanish from the earth’s surface. But you can’t.

So you do the next best thing, which is curling yourself into a ball while you let the tears flow down your cheeks as your entire form tenses up and shakes from the anguish you feel inside of you.

Several feelings washes over Kaveh. Ones of confusion, concern and guilt.

You don't deserve this. 

Nobody deserves to feel so low. And you are so, so very low: starving yourself just as a punishment.

He can't help but feel pity for you. The words come out before he can even stop them from slipping past his lips: "Why do you deserve it?"

He's trying to be kind and supportive, he really is, but it's painfully hard for him to find the right words. It’s difficult seeing a loved one tear themselves apart in front of him all while thinking they deserve to suffer and break.

His question is one not even you can answer. It’s a question that you’ve pondered about whenever you’ve come to your senses after having breakdowns much like these, and each time you’re left with no answer. There's only that part of you, that little tiny voice in the back of your head that tells you that you deserve nothing less than pain and suffering. That this is the only way for you to get rid of the mental turmoil you experience on a daily basis. 

That the only way to get rid of the emotional and mental pain is to double the physical pain, and what easier way is there to feel physical pain if it isn’t to inflict it upon yourself; by yourself?

How do you help someone who believes that?

It's not like you can just tell them that they don't deserve it. How could he ever convince you that you’re wrong? How can he convince you that there's a better way than starving and hurting yourself? 

How is any of this supposed to be okay for you?

"(Y/N)," he calls out your name, the sound of his voice pleading yet somehow still kind, "(Y/N). There is no reason to hurt yourself. You deserve better."

As if you weren’t already curled into a ball you only manage to make yourself smaller as you cry, your entire form shaking. It's not till now that he's so up close to you that he sees how your body is covered in goosebumps and the bruises that linger across your body. They look self-inflicted and Kaveh can't help but let out a wince as he looks at the bruises that cover your skin.

He tries his hardest to contain his horror at seeing what you’ve done to herself. It looks so painful, so terrible, but it's clear from your shivering, from your shaking, from the way your face crumples - from the way you curl up into a ball so easily - that this isn't your first time.

You’re hurting, and at your own hand.

He doesn't know how to process that. He has never seen anyone do this to themselves. He can't imagine how any of this could be good.

Your grip on your legs only grows tightens as you cry into your knees, on the verge of wailing from feeling how your heart aches. It’s as if someone is tightening their grip on your already fragile heart, and it hurts so very much.

You could handle feeling hungry, and you could handle inflicting pain upon yourself, littering your body with bruises to show for it. Yet you couldn’t handle the feelings inside of you that were crushing you and tearing you apart. You had learnt to handle your inner turmoil by ignoring the feelings until they grew so great that the only way to rid yourself of the demons surrounding you was to hurt them through yourself.

The relief was only temporary, sure, but you’d do anything for the moment of peace in your inferno called your own mind.

He sighs heavily, the sound filled with regret and pity. Kaveh doesn’t say anything and remains looking up to your face as you quickly unravel before him. 

This is beyond him. He doesn't know how to comfort you- how to help you. He has no idea what to say or what to do. It’s all so overwhelming - all these feelings of fear and confusion and pity and care - that he doesn't even know how to begin to process, let alone express.

He places a gentle, comforting hand on your knee as you continue to cry. You’re so up in your own thoughts and emotions that you can’t get yourself to pull away from his touch.

It’s not that his touch wasn’t comforting. It was very comforting. And that was exactly why you wanted to pull away from his touch.

You don’t deserve that kind of comfort.

"I'm sorry.." the words come out so weak, putting your broken state on full display for Kaveh. A sob escapes your mouth as you try your best regaining your composure to no avail. Each breath you try and take control over gets interrupted by a sob or a gasp for air.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry” you repeat as you burrow your face further into your knees. Your words are slurring as you’re choking back your cries to get the words out of your mouth.

Kaveh doesn't even understand what you could possibly have to be sorry for. You've done nothing wrong. You've committed no sins worth feeling so terrible for. 

But how does he tell you that? How could he convince you of the truth that appears so clearly to him but isn’t as obvious for you?

He doesn't.

How does he convince you to get past these terrible feelings of wrongness, when you’re so very convinced that it's your punishment? How does he convince you to give yourself kindness and care, when you believe yourself so unworthy? How does he make you realize that this isn't your fault, that you haven't done anything that deserves all of this?

Kaveh moves closer to you - so carefully, so slowly. As if you’re something fragile, to be treated with respect and care. Because you are fragile. You’re hurt, and you’re so, so small. All he wants to do is to hold you, to bring you comfort, to hug you, to hold you in his arms. He just wants to lift your heavy burden off of your shoulders. But he doesn’t reach out to do any of that, it doesn’t feel appropriate to do so right now as you’re sobbing in front of him and curling yourself into a ball.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he says quietly. "You're hurting yourself, and that can't be okay. Please," he adds, his voice pleading, "Let me try to help you. You don't have to do this. You don't deserve to do this."

You had always had a hard time accepting other people’s kindness and comfort, it was extremely difficult for you to understand and wrap your head around the concept of being treated with decency and care from another being without expecting anything back in return. The feelings overwhelm you and you feel how you want to throw up from Kaveh’s attentiveness, it’s all too much for you.

You’d rather have him walk out on you and leave you in your pitiful state to fend for yourself. It’s what you’re used to. And when he breaks what you consider a norm, your world falls apart with it.

The tears flow down your cheeks as if they’ll never come to an end. 

Kaveh can see it from the way you gasp and wail when his words of care finally register.

It’s written all over your face - your pain, your hurt - it’s clear that you’re not used to being treated with such care and attention. It’s clear that this isn’t something you’re used to; it’s clear that you’re not used to having someone trying to help you.

It breaks Kaveh’s heart to see you struggle like this. He doesn’t know how he can get you to accept this treatment from him, from anyone.

He wants nothing in return; he only wants to help. How can he get you to understand that? How could he ever assure someone that they’re deserving of unconditional care and love when that very someone is so fully convinced that they deserve pain? 

"You need help," he says quietly. "Let me help you."

Why do you deserve to suffer, to hurt yourself, when you’ve done nothing wrong? Why are you so cruel to yourself? Kaveh lets the thought wander in his head for some time before he shakes his head in disbelief. He can’t come to any reasonable conclusion as to why you’d be so cruel to yourself. He could only speculate.

Is this why you hurt yourself? The thought intrudes him, as he tries to stay focused on comforting you.

Because you feel like you don’t deserve kindness?

But why? Why wouldn't you deserve kindness? This isn't because of any mistakes you’ve made, is it? Has someone made you believe this? Or is it something that you’ve always thought? Either way, you’re wrong. You deserve kindness. You deserve the world. 

You deserve to be treated well.

"You deserve so much better," he says quietly, "You aren't pitiful. I promise you that you are so much more than what you tell yourself you are." 

Kaveh places his hands on top of yours as he rubs comforting circles with his thumb on the back of your palms. Another sob escapes your lips at his attempts to soothe your ache. He can feel the way you tremble under his hands as he gives you a gentle squeeze of comfort to stabilize your quivering form, even if it's just by a little bit. He keeps rubbing, still trying to help you. Neither of you say anything and the only thing to be heard in the room is the sound of your rapid breathing and hitched sobs. And while the tremors still persist, your sobs are becoming less frantic. He thinks he might be comforting her just slightly, but it's good enough for now. At least it’s a start. 

Kaveh wants to say something, but he doesn't know what to say. He's never been in a situation like this before. He doesn't want to sound like an idiot. But he also doesn't want to stay silent.

He cannot bear to see you like this, and he doesn't want to imagine how much pain you’ve been carrying for you to end up here like this. 

He wants so badly for you to be okay. He wants nothing more than to give you his care and comfort. Kaveh gets up from his crouching position and feels his legs tingle from sitting like that for so long, but he ignores it. It’s not important right now. What is, is you and your wellbeing. 

He assumes that if you responded positively to having him rub your hand, then maybe you'd respond better to affectionate comfort. Kaveh is reluctant at first. A hug is much more personal, much more intimate than drawing circles on someone's palm. So he asks.

"Is it okay if I hug you?"

You tense up at the request reluctantly. Granted, you and Kaveh would usually greet one another by giving a quick hug with a pat on the back before getting to it. But this was different. Much different from those lighthearted moments you’d share before you go off to wherever you had planned on doing for the day, whether that was taking a walk amongst the streets of the city or just enjoying one another's presence as you work deliberately.

You’re hesitant, and Kaveh is about to reassure you that it’s fine if you don’t want to until he sees a small nod coming from you. Your eyes quickly dart down to meet his before you avert your gaze from him, feeling the shame and embarrassment crawl along your back amongst the other feelings that roam inside of you.

Kaveh is quick to act as he pulls you into his embrace. 

He holds you protectively, as if he just holds you close enough to him he'll be able to shield you from the cold, cruel world that's hurt you so. You just want to hold on to him. Just wants him to hold you, to hug you and hold you close to him. 

The warmth is so comforting, so very comforting that the little voice in your head tells you that you aren't worthy of this kind of affection. That you don’t deserve to be cared for like this, and a part of you still holds onto that truth. Despite that, you cling onto him as if he were your lifeline, the very last thread that was keeping you from floating away. You want this- you’ve been yearning for someone to hold you like this, and even though a loud part of you disagrees- that part of you that tells you that you’re not deserving of this- you can’t help but bask in his warmth that he provides for you.

The plate on your bedside table catches his eye, long forgotten. The food had obviously gone cold by now. Whatever, Kaveh thinks. It doesn’t matter, he can always just warm it up later. What matters is that he helps you back on your feet and support you through this. 

You don’t have to fend for yourself anymore. He’s here now, and he’ll help you through it. He may not be capable of chasing away your demons for you, but you’ll always have his endless support.

He’ll spend an eternity if it means he could make you believe that you deserve everything.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kaveh x reader #kaveh comfort #kaveh angst #kaveh hurt/comfort #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #genshin comfort #genshin impact comfort #genshin x you #genshin impact x you

[nabexis]

The D&D promo was a gift omg Thank you Larian, thank you voice actors, thank you High Rollers.

A short, hilarious Bloodweave moment from part 2.

Bonus doodles that are more spoilery and image description in alt text and longer descrption under the read more as it might be too long if you're looking at it on desktop:

Bonus doodles:

First image description: A five-panel comic of a scene from the High Rollers Baldur's Gate 3 Dungeons and Dragons game part 2. Gale Dekarios, disguised as a teifling, though his face looks the same, for plot reasons, half-shaved for spa reasons, walks briskly next to Astarion, who doesn't recognize him through the disguise and half-shave. Panel one: Gale is on the left, Astarion on the right. You can see them from the bust up. Astarion says "Ooo~ Who's this?" Gale responds through clenched teeth "Hello." An arrow with the text "Still half-shaved" points to Gale. Panel 2: Gale is on the left, Astarion is on the right, from further away so you can see both of their whole bodies. They are both walking quickly next to each other. Astarion is staring at Gale's boots, which are embroidered with gold. There is a red dotted line from Astarion's eyes to the boots to make this clear. Gale is overthinking what Astarion's words mean. His text is partially obscured within the thought bubble. His thoughts read: "Did Astarion just flirt with me? What the fuck what the fuck how am I supposed to respond? Does he find this disguise hot? He winked at me earlier I thought it was just because he wanted my boots but now I'm not sure anymore. Gods he asked me for money is he just using me as a sugar daddy? I don't know what's going on anymore. Would I even like it if he finds me attractive?" There is an arrow pointing to Gale labeled "Blushing incredibly hard, but no one can tell through the disguise" There is a speech bubble pointing off-panel, presumably Karlach who is saying "Wait, that sounds like Gale--" Astarion has a speech bubble which reads "Gale's… Boots…?" Panel 4: A close up of Astarion still looking down at Gale's boots, lost in thought, looking slightly concerned with a thought bubble of an elipsis. Panel 5: The same close up of Astarion looking markedly more concerned now with sweat drops on his face and his eyes have moved to being a thousand yard stare. His thought bubble reads "Oh shit. Oh shit." The second "shit" is italicized and underlined for emphasis. End description of image 1

Bonus image description:

several bonus doodles featuring Gale getting his spa day while Wyll realizes he's about to get arrested for using magic in the city, Astarion lapping up blood like a cat, Astarion being a dork over Drizzt Do'Urden, Gale and Astarion squabbling over Drizzt Do'Urden's panther and sword, and Astarion after said squabble looking reverently and making high-pitched squeaking sounds/fanboying over said items.

#Astarion #Astarion Ancunin #Bloodweave #Gale Dekarios #Gale of Waterdeep #BG3 #Baldur's Gate 3 #That second Oh shit read as 'Oh no he's HOT' to me SO HARD #High Rollers #my art #nabexis art

[misshoneyimhome]

「2️⃣5️⃣0️⃣ FOLLOWERS CELEBRATION」

Sparks Fly - “My mind forgets to remind me you're a bad idea” I William Nylander

Summary; when you first met William Nylander, you had no idea what the universe was trying to tell you - but as you couldn't escape him, nor resist temptation, you ignored all that was supposed to feel right

Tropes & warnings; Strangers to lovers, cheating (kissing), Willy's mischievous smile and charm, romantic relationship, flirting, sexual thoughts, some nsfw descriptions

Other notes; did this turn out the way I expected? Nope - Do I regret it and want to write it all over? Also nope 🙃 please enjoy 🤍

Word count; 4K

・✶ ｡ﾟ

Go right. Turn left. Head down. Wait?

Your gaze keenly tracked the items on the shelves as you searched for the last thing on your shopping list – toothpaste.

Examining the aisle thoroughly, you attempted to locate the small tubes. Just as you finally spotted something that might resemble what you were after, you came to a halt. Scanning the array of products, you aimed to find your preferred brand. But unfortunately, it was nowhere to be seen. And as you continued your search, a large figure unexpectedly collided with you from behind, causing you to drop the items in your other hand.

“Shit,” you exclaimed involuntarily, bending down to retrieve your things and feeling the jolt from the minor accident.

“Sorry about that,” the voice apologised, and the person squatted beside you, attempting to pick up some of your scattered belongings, though you beat them to it.

Looking up at the face of the stranger who had rudely bumped into you, you were greeted by deep blue eyes, a light, almost pale complexion, a crooked smile stretching across pink lips, and a sleeked-back lion's mane of hair. “No worries,” you said softly, flashing a friendly smile even though you felt the fatigue and a hint of annoyance lingering in your mind. At least he had been polite enough to apologise and assist in gathering the items. “I guess I was just lost in thought.”

“Yeah, me too,” the man chuckled lightly as you both gradually stood up. He was dressed in loose trousers and a hoodie, paired with slippers – a rather casual yet suitable look for a late-night shopping spree.

Maybe if you weren't feeling so tired, given the lateness of your impromptu shopping trip, you might have found him rather attractive with his charming smile. However, fatigue had taken its toll, and the idea of engaging in a conversation with a stranger didn't quite appeal to you at the moment.

Yet, the man remained stationary for a moment longer, his captivating eyes almost scrutinising you as you offered a friendly smile.

“So, were you looking for anything specific? You looked a little confused…” he finally broke the silence hanging between you.

“Oh, yeah,” you chuckled lightly. “I’m just on the hunt for this toothpaste I always use… but I'm clueless about the layout of this place…”

“What’s it called? Maybe I can help,” he politely offered assistance, and you couldn't help but smile as you shared the brand. “Ah, I think it’s this one…” he pointed out, placed on the top shelf, a bit above your line of sight.

“Oh, thanks… sorry, I'm a bit tired,” you apologised with a sigh.

“You're not from around here?”

The handsome stranger flashed you a friendly smile.

“Is it that obvious, huh?” you chuckled with a rhetorical tone.

“Just a little,” the man responded, and you couldn't help but smile back at him. For some unknown reason, his smile was incredibly enchanting, and you had to mentally remind yourself not to get too caught up in the interaction. “Well, is there anything else I can help you with?” he offered, displaying a polite and overly confident expression across his face.

“Well, uhm,” you attempted to speak, breaking the gaze the two of you had been sharing. “No, no thanks… I mean, I better get going - it’s late.”

You heard yourself mumble as you compelled yourself to move away from the appealing stranger, grabbing a random toothpaste and slowly making your way towards the cashier. However, as you walked away, you couldn’t resist glancing back, and, of course, your eyes briefly met his captivating face.

A flutter occurred in your stomach, something you hadn’t felt in a long time. But you had to brush it off. And as you reached the checkout register and exited onto the street, you once again had to pause, looking around to regain your sense of direction.

You might have seemed a bit lost, because once more, a new, familiar voice spoke behind you.

“Lost again?” he chuckled, moving closer to stand beside you in the winter night of the city.

“Uhm, no, just have to find the way to the bus, you know,” you tried to act as casual as possible, facing him again.

“Which way are you going?”

It was odd. You didn’t even question why this stranger was so willing to help you, yet you easily gave him your address and the bus details.

“It’s just up the street,” he pointed out, once again with a broad, friendly smile, his eyes almost sparkling in the reflection of the city lights.

“Thanks… again,” you smiled once more, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you suddenly felt a bit drawn to him, unsure why. Perhaps it was his helpful nature or his handsome face. Or maybe you were just so tired and needed some rest.

“No worries… I’m Will, by the way,” he kindly introduced himself. “And if there’s anything else you need help with in the city, you can just ask me.”

You were taken aback by his sudden casual introduction, your eyes expressing a hint of surprise as he continued to flash his charming smile.

“I, uhm, I’m Y/N… and that’s very nice of you,” you replied nervously, still a bit thrown off by how nonchalant and friendly he was towards you.

“That’s a nice name. Maybe, if you’d like, we can talk more about the city over a cup of coffee someday?”

His invitation was even more surprising, and the way he presented it was so laid-back. You could hardly tell if he was flirting or just being friendly.

Yet, you were intrigued, you had to admit that. But you didn’t want to make any rash decisions. So, you decided to go with what you considered the wisest choice and politely decline his offer.

“Oh, that’s really sweet Will - and though I’d really like to, I should probably tell you I’m already here with someone…” you offered him a comforting expression, a little nervous about how he’d take your rejection.

But there was no need to be worried. Will merely smiled and shrugged.

“Fair enough. Just thought I’d give it try.”

It was the sweetest encounter you’d ever had with a stranger, and you couldn’t help but feel another flutter in your stomach as he continued looking at you.

“Well… but thanks anyway,” you spoke, once again forcing yourself to withdraw from the slightly intimate conversation.

“Anytime.”

And with that, you parted ways, and you slowly began walking to the nearby bus stop.

“Shit…” you muttered to yourself. This was so not what you needed right now.

**

As you woke up the next day, you finally felt like you'd regained energy and were ready to face the world again. The long flight had been beyond exhausting, but after finally getting a good night's sleep, you were filled with excitement about exploring Toronto.

Getting ready to take on the day, you hopped in the shower, letting the warm water cascade down your body. Your muscles relaxed under the soothing warmth, and your eyes closed as you gently massaged the shampoo into your hair. However, while rinsing the soap out from your locks, your mind wandered, and a sudden vision of the handsome stranger from yesterday popped up in your head – his content smile and his amazing chuckle.

You swiftly opened your eyes, shaking your head to force him out of your mind, and returned to your routine. And finally dressed and ready to hit the city, you made your way to meet up with Jason after a short train ride.

Walking into a hockey arena wasn't completely out of the ordinary for you, as you'd previously set foot in one, just not in Toronto. And as you walked through the corridors like Jason had told, you managed to get past security with a friendly smile, stating your name and purpose to the kind man.

Down the hallway, you were surrounded by blue and white colours, with motivational words like Pride, Honour, and Courage written on the walls. And finally, you saw him standing there, chatting with his colleagues. You flashed Jason a warm smile as you approached, and he enveloped you in a tight hug.

“I’m so happy that you’re here,” he whispered softly.

“Me too,” you flashed him a gentle smile before he introduced you to his co-workers.

It felt good to be with him again. It had been far too long since you’d been in the same city, but now you were finally back together.

As the evening progressed, Jason showed you around the hockey arena. But it wasn’t until you had the chance to meet some of the players that your heart suddenly stopped.

There he was; the handsome stranger from yesterday. His blonde hair and cheeky smile were unmistakable. 

Then, he slowly walked towards you along with four other lads.

“Hey Jason,” one of them greeted.

“Hey guys,” Jason flashed them a great smile. “Y/n, let me introduce you to the Leafs' finest; Auston Matthews, Morgan Rielly, Mitch Marner, Max Domi, and William Nylander.”

You felt your heartbeat suddenly rising. Your palms became sweaty, and it felt harder to breathe. And you knew you had to avoid his piercing blue eyes in order to remain focused.

“Hi,” you finally managed to speak. However, as you greeted all of the guys, you couldn’t help but gulp when your hand met William’s.

He was still as handsome as yesterday, perhaps even more so in this lighting. His broad smile across his lips was enchanting, and his sweet voice rang like sweet music in your ear.

It almost felt as if there were sparks flying between you, cutting out everyone else as your eyes held onto each other for a little longer than they should.

But then Jason’s voice suddenly interrupted.

“Guys, this is Y/N – my girlfriend,” he introduced, and suddenly you felt William withdrawing completely, as the truth came out: You were already taken, and flirting wouldn’t do him any good.

**

But what William didn’t know was that your relationship with Jason had been hanging on a thin thread for a long time now.

You had been together for five years, committing to a serious relationship when you were just in your early twenties. However, the past two years had been nothing but suffering for both of you.

Frequent fights over every little detail, your mood swings making it unbearable to be around each other for too long, and his constant changes in work, including working overtime, left very little energy to maintain the romance in your relationship. But despite the struggles, as you had been together for so long, essentially growing into adulthood together, you weren't ready to let it go. Instead, you decided to spend some time apart.

So, when Jason got the job in Toronto as an account manager for the MLSE, you chose to stay back home, giving both of you the time needed to figure out the future of your relationship.

It hadn’t been easy. While you enjoyed the freedom of being by yourself, rediscovering who you truly were as an individual, you also longed for the togetherness. You missed having someone to come home to, to share every moment with, the good and the bad. You missed the intimacy, the amazing sex, and the touch of another man, dedicating himself to your pleasure. And Jason missed you just as much, if not more. He practically begged you to join him in Toronto, and eventually, you gave in, deciding to give your relationship another try.

Which initially, it seemed like a great idea.

But then you met William Nylander.

Without even knowing who he was, the Swedish hockey star had completely swept you off your feet. His smile and eyes had created a spark within you, making you question everything once again.

Did you truly miss Jason, or did you just miss the comfort of having someone else?

Jason was a great guy, at least to most people. A good friend, committed family person, and a hard worker for what he loved. He never forgot a birthday, always told you how much he loved you, and even bought flowers once in a while. In many ways, he was the perfect boyfriend.

However, over time, you felt the need for something more. He no longer made you feel those butterflies in your stomach out of excitement. The sex was still good, yet it became familiar and almost routine. When talking about the future, he always spoke of 'you' as a whole. However, for the past year, you couldn’t imagine any of those scenarios with him. Even though you dreamt of the same, he wasn’t the person in your dreams anymore.

Suddenly, you were replacing his face with other men. And now, it was William.

His blonde, sleeked-back hair and his laughter echoing through the halls were slowly taking up space in your mind. Every time you closed your eyes, you imagined his face. You could see his pink lips forming a smirk, his eyes glistening as you stood closely, almost close enough to touch each other.

And the more time you spent around the team, the more William occupied your thoughts.

You would see him almost every day for the following weeks after you'd met, especially when they were in Toronto playing home games. Despite having your remote work with you, allowing you to work from home, Jason’s work took up more time. And often, you found yourself at Baking Street or at the Scotiabank Arena with the Maple Leafs.

Every time you passed William in the hallway, you'd flash him a friendly smile, hoping not to give off any wrong signals. And every time he returned your smile. But you just couldn’t get him out of your head, and you knew it wasn’t right.

It felt so wrong that whenever Jason wanted to touch you, kiss you, and make love to you, you envisioned William instead of him. You wished for William’s hands on your skin, his body against your body, and his lips connected with yours. You wished he was the one to pleasure you, to be inside you as you felt the peak of an orgasm. It didn't even have to be romantic; all you wanted was to feel him instead of the man you shared a bed with. 

Though you often shared laughter and smiles with William in the group of players and managers, you were sure he'd forgotten all about you long ago.

Little did you know, ever since your small encounter, William had not been able to get you off his mind either. The way you looked so tired and sweet in the grocery store had made his heart flutter a little, and your soft giggles had resonated as a sweet melody.

But then you turned him down. Which first, he thought was just fine. Although he wasn’t exactly used to being the one to get a ‘no’ from a girl, he figured that’s just how it is when you take chances.

However, what truly shattered William's heart into smaller pieces was when he saw you the following day, with Jason’s arm around you and him introducing you as his girlfriend.

For the first time in his life, he felt fragile. Like you had every bit of control over him, and he could do nothing about it. He was captivated by you, there was no denying it.

And William knew it was wrong to think about you like that, to imagine that you’d break it off with Jason immediately just so he’d have a chance with you. To touch you, let his lips explore yours as he enveloped you and held you close. He wanted to feel your naked chest against his as he explored your body with his hands and tasted your sweet tongue on his. He wanted to make you moan out in pleasure as he let himself sink into your warmth and have you wrapped around him.

But he knew he couldn’t. Yet his mind kept forgetting to remind him that you were a bad idea.

Although he sensed that you weren’t truly happy. That was probably the worst part. If you were truly happy, you'd have said you had a boyfriend from the very beginning, not just 'someone'.

And he could see how you always tried to maintain a façade and a guard when you were around everyone. But you didn’t fool William. He saw right through you.

Your smile was fake, and your voice spoke in a tone that didn’t seem close to real – almost AI-created. The way you stood stiff next to Jason, not even reflecting a tiny amount of love, made William wonder why you’d waste your time with someone like him.

No, William knew these weren’t your true feelings. He’d seen just how gorgeous and wonderful your true smile was. He'd seen it on the very first night you ran into each other and then every time you were around the group of players and their significant others, and Jason wasn’t there because he was still working; that’s when your true colours were showing.

You didn’t love Jason.

**

Every moment around William was killing you. You were drawn to him like a magnet, and all you wanted was to run to him and tell him how you felt.

But you acted casual, almost like friends around each other and everyone else. Yet only a brief touch of your fingertips could make you both feel the sparks between you.

It was a slow form of torture, and for weeks, you walked up and down the corridors, seeing him shirtless after a game, and later having wet thoughts about him in the evening as you pleasured yourself.

But then one night, it became too much. You were watching the match from a few rows behind the players' bench, and your eyes kept following the number 88 on the ice, even when he wasn’t around the puck. You even forgot to cheer when the Leafs managed to score goals, and it wasn’t until the final buzzer sounded that you were snapped out of your trail of thoughts.

In the hallway, you forced yourself to smile and chat with the rest of the team's company. But in the back of your head, all you wanted was to congratulate William on the win. So, the moment you saw him, you couldn’t restrain yourself. It was like your body was running from your mind towards him.

In all of his equipment, William instinctively enveloped you and lifted you into his embrace. You wrapped your arms around him and met in a rushed, eager, and spontaneous brief kiss.

It was wrong, you knew that. Yet it felt so right.

His lips felt so good on yours, and you never wanted to untie from his arms. You wanted to freeze this moment and just enjoy him wrapped around you. And as he slowly put you back down, you let out a soft sigh.

“Sorry about that,” you chuckled a bit nervously, unsure how he felt about the kiss.

But William felt nothing but good. “You don’t have to be sorry, Y/N… you have no idea for how long I’ve wanted that.” His voice came out as a rough whisper, aware that no one around should hear him - in case they’d tell Jason.

Gazing up at him, his face a lot taller due to his skates, you couldn’t suppress a smile.

“Me too…” you softly admitted. But again, you had to force yourself out of the tender moment, and William left to finish up in the locker room. 

Not long after, you were all by yourself in the hallway as the players and their partners had left, and you were waiting for Jason to finish up for the night.

“What are you still doing here?” A voice behind you echoed in your ears, but it wasn’t the voice of your boyfriend. It was William.

Turning around, you faced his smug expression, your eyes again meeting and not able to pull away.

“I was just…” you softly muttered. You couldn’t even speak the words. You didn’t want to mention his name, not even think about him as you stood alone in front of William.

“Waiting for…” he continued your sentence, avoiding the name of the man you belonged to.

“Yes…”

A silent moment settled between you as your eyes remained locked, and William gently nodded.

“I should leave you alone then…”

But he didn’t move. He still stood before you, and you felt your heart beating faster, your pulse increasing.

“I don’t want you to leave me alone,” you whispered softly, yet loud enough for him to hear, a tear almost settling in the corner of your eye as guilt wanted to rush over you. But you ignored it.

“Me neither.”

And as William took slow strolls towards you, your mind raced, and your feet automatically moved in an attempt to meet him halfway. As soon as you came in close proximity, your breaths almost shared, you couldn’t control your own body’s behaviour. Like an instinct, you gently wrapped your hands around William’s neck as his found your waist, pulling each other in for another kiss. However, this time, it was deeper.

You let each other explore one another, your mouths sharing warmth as your tongues intertwined. You let yourself sink into his body, feeling him against you as his hands wandered further down, cupped your cheeks, and effortlessly hoisted you into his grip.

It felt so good. With every taste offered, you wanted more of him, and as he pressed your back against the wall, you felt his chest pressed against yours. You let your fingers run through his hair, all sense of guilt vanishing from your rational mind.

It was just wrong enough to make it feel right.

But you had to pull apart to refill your lungs with air, panting as you held your faces close.

“I’m sorry,” William chuckled lightly under his breath.

“Don’t be.”

The kiss with William had been nothing short of amazing. However, as you heard steps in the hallway, you swiftly disentangled and pulled away. Regret filled your mind, but not about the kiss - about the fact that you couldn’t do more because you had a boyfriend.

So, as soon as you got back to Jason’s apartment, you knew you had to address the subject, no matter if William wanted more or not. You couldn’t carry on in a relationship you weren’t devoted to.

**

The breakup hadn’t been really bad. Jason had almost seen it coming, given your distant behaviour. Though he was sure you’d tried, there was just no way you could save what had been between you, and he had to accept that.

Your only problem next was to find accommodation for the night. Jason had naturally offered you the guest room as the gentleman he was, but you felt more comfortable with checking into a hotel.

And just as you’d tossed yourself onto the queen-size bed, you decided to let William know. Maybe he cared, maybe he didn’t, but just as he’d taken a chance on you, you wanted to take a chance on him as well.

‘It’s over – Jason and I are over.’

A simple text, but the message was clear.

Only a few minutes later, you heard your phone vibrate.

‘Where are you?’

Without hesitation, you texted him the name of your hotel.

‘I’m coming over – is that ok?’

‘Yes, of course.’

It didn’t take long before William let you know he was nearby. And it was as if a spark within you felt like you were in a romantic movie or something, so you jumped out of bed, ran down the four floors, and practically jumped out of the front doors. You didn’t care about it raining; it fitted the idea of a movie scene perfectly, especially when you saw the familiar face of the handsome Swede.

Both walking determinedly towards each other, you almost fell into his arms as he wrapped them around your body, and once again connected you in a deep heartfelt kiss.

You couldn’t help but giggle at how dramatic it all seemed. Pulling apart, you shared a laughter, both completely soaked by the pouring rain.

“Willy,” you spoke softly, with a great smile across your lips. 

“I know, baby,” William chuckled. “Finally.”

#2️⃣5️⃣0️⃣ followers celebration #wn88 imagine #william nylander imagine #william nylander x reader #toronto maple leafs imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine

[harry-styles-obsessed]

Story does include smut. Minors do not interact with this post, thank you.

Trigger warnings: description of near assault/ bullying, age gap, dominant, dark Harry (kinda?), praise, dad! Harry, younger reader (early 20s), body image issues, self esteem issues… reader is just incredibly insecure… everything that goes hand in hand with that basically— and lots of smutty stuff! This will be kind of slow burn!! Long story so get comfortable! Also please read with discretion lovelies. You all matter.

This story was requested but the requester asked to remain anonymous so I will not be mentioning anything about their request but please to anyone out there struggling with any type of body imagine problems please PLEASE know you’re absolutely beautiful and I hope one day you will see that.

©️ please do not copy or translate my work.

Harry x plus size Inexperienced fem! Reader (Harry is not famous in this story)

Make you mine

"You cannot be serious Anna"

Your voice was annoyed and frustrated "oh I'm deadly serious”

You throw a glare directly at Anna who's grinning at you mischievously "you’re unbelievable. I’ve got work to focus on anyways so… no.” You murmur a flush of red appearing upon your already reddened cheeks. You didn’t do parties. You didn’t like parties. Full stop. Parties were where bad things happen and you were not planning on getting involved with that type of shit.

"Don't change the subject! Y/n please... PLEASE. You know it'll be fun!! Plus Jamie is fine as hell... his tattoos and shit like-" you felt annoyance spread throughout you your hand coming up to pinch the bridge of your nose "alright alright! Fine.. whatever. I'll come with you to your friends stupid party." You mutter rolling you eyes watching out of your peripheral as Anna does a little happy dance, before tightly wrapping her arms around your neck

"Thank god! Now we've got to choose your outfit. That red dress looks real good on you." She spoke suddenly sporadically searching through your wardrobe making you roll your eyes. She cannot be serious. Going to a party is one thing but dressing up with zero body confidence is another thing.

“Anna.” You spoke in a warning tone, fear and worry spreading across your features “I am not skinny. Im not even pretty. I don’t have your body confidence!” You didn’t feel beautiful whatsoever. You felt like an absolute failure and mess most of the time. You just felt ugly. Sure Anna would beg to differ but she was your best friend, of course she would boost you up. You hated the way you looked it made you feel sick... you hated your body. You hated yourself. You hated everything to do with yourself. “Y/n! Enough. You’re beautiful. Keep talking shit and I might just have to get a handsome guy to show you how perfect you really a-“ “NO. Anna. Oh my god gross— no.”

You say exasperated as you plop down onto the bed, laying down- your arms dangling just above your head as you breathe quietly hearing hangers clattering together as your best friend continued viciously searching through your wardrobe.

Jamie Goodman was.... Something else. He was annoying. The class clown basically. He used to be in your tutor group in school and he just had to fucking follow your path to college classes and annoy you further. Anna thought the world of him and you were almost 100% certain that they had slept together once or twice.

"Found it!!" Anna cheered spinning around with the red dress held in her hands grinning widely "c'mon put it on! I want to get there early!" She spoke and you squeezed your eyes shut, exhaling. You loved Anna. She was your best friend, you adored her, but god could she get so fucking annoying sometimes. She made you want to rip your hair out but... she wouldn't be your best friend if she didn't do that occasionally.

"I cannot believe you made me agree with you" you mutter before standing up yanking the dress from her hands, stripping off your clothes as she too began getting changed into an outfit far too revealing- a tank top that was more like a bra top. And short shorts, her entire stomach and rib cage exposed along with her long legs. Gods to have her confidence and carelessness…

"Might want to pack condoms." You speak to her, hearing the shifting of material pause as she glances at you brows raising before a slight laugh leaves her lips "I'm on the pill, babes. Chill." She smiled assuringly and you sigh shaking your head. You and her were complete opposites- her full of confidence however you were a mess. No confidence. No body confidence... no dates... no boys... you’ve never had a first kiss or even had a man touch you before... you’ve never been intimate with anyone before— ever. And quite honestly you were afraid to even experience it.

—

“Come on!!”

Anna shouted from downstairs and you stood up after contemplating your life decisions— spraying your perfume all over yourself leaving your face bare from any makeup. You didn’t want any advances being made upon you just because you looked a bit different with makeup on... although you highly doubted that would ever happen. No man wanted to touch you. If for a dare they would but not for any other reason. Or so you thought.

You jog downstairs to where Anna is keys in hand before she smiles grabbing onto your hand and dragging you out of the home intertwining her fingers with yours "it'll be fun girl. Loosen up."

The drive there was fairly fast and you had almost twenty minutes to spare. "We're here too early." You spoke but Anna only shook her head grabbing a present from the back and you raised your brows "it's Jamie's birthday. That's why we were both invited...." your lips parted eyes widening Anna laughing, “you shouldn’t told—“

"Shh y/n. Don't worry. Here." She then shoved a smaller wrapped present into your hands winking at you as relief wrapped around your body. Thank fuck.

You then got out of the car with her, walking with her towards the front door, the door being opened by the familiar dirty blonde who quickly pulled Anna into his embrace hugging her for a little too long to be “just friends” before his eyes turned to you and he smiled. genuinely.

"Didn't think you'd come, y/n. But glad to see you here." He spoke and without even hesitating he pulled you in for a hug your eyes widening at the sudden hug shared between the two of you. You hugged him tenderly, awkwardly almost— not entirely knowing how to act.

"Anna persuaded me. But c'mon.. how could I not come see the birthday boy." You smile awkwardly after pulling back, soon holding the present out for him to take his baby blues smiling as he smiled taking the present from you "well nonetheless- glad you could make it. And thank you… I appreciate it.” You only nod not saying anything else, a slight nervous smile remaining on your lips— Anna purposely elbowing you in the ribs to attempt to loosen you up more her eyes saying it all.

Jamie was way different without all his friends around... he was kind. Real. Genuine. How strange... "c'mon let's go into the living room. We can watch a movie before the others arrive. Would you girls like a drink?"

—

A while passed before eventually more people were filing in, you remained sat on the sofa drink of Pepsi in your hand as you took occasional nervous sips. Anna had been whisked away by Jamie and you were certain they were creating the slight banging noises coming from upstairs... and well... that said something didn't it?

You grimaced just at the thought before shaking your head clearing your throat before you decided to stand up, the living room becoming a major crowded area and so you feeling your anxiousness grow quickly left the area, walking around for a bit before finally stopping stood just in the doorway to the kitchen your fingers grasping onto your Pepsi tighter as you took more sips from it. You exhaled softly leaning into the doorway slightly your brows creasing as you stared at a mixture of young adults and what looked to be literal 16 year olds dancing together... what the fuck? That's not creepy at all… however that became the least of your worries as you suddenly felt a rather warm presence behind you, your stomach fluttering anxiously,

"Excuse me"

You quickly turn around expecting a teenager only to come face to face with dad-like material. Old enough to be a dad... he wasn't a teenager. Your mouth was working faster than your brain as you only managed to stammer over a word before finally backing up "I'm so sorry..."

You smile nervously allowing your eyes to scavenge the man— he had piercing green eyes. Beautiful chestnut brown hair that had slight curls to it on the top and a beautiful smile that showed two pretty dimples. Tattoos were layered up and down his skin, a butterfly one seeming to be on his chest from what you could see. He wore a loose fitting shirt that was unbuttoned at the top revealing some of his toned chest. He was... god like.

"No need to apologise, love." He assured with a smile as he went to walk past you, shoulders brushing momentarily before he stopped glancing over his shoulder looking back at you “you look a bit young to be here..."

He spoke some sort of amusement in his eyes not revealing whether he was toying with you or being genuine. Shyness wrapped around you momentarily before you soon answered in an attempt to stick up for yourself— "I'm twenty two, sir." You speak politely the man fully turning so his body was facing you "you look a bit old to be here." You soon retort as he doesn't respond, instead only raising a brow as if pushing the idea of you telling little white lies to him. "Call me Harry."

"You look a bit old to be here, Harry." You rephrase

His eyes glinted with amusement before he cleared his throat "got off work... decided to come have some fun."

You narrow your eyes at him as if showing you didn’t believe him but really you were poking fun at him… exactly what he was doing with you. “What do you do for work?" You ask noticing the palpable tension that was between you and him. It only seemed to be growing more intense as the seconds went by.

"Surgeon"

He spoke simply and you raised your brows "like plastic surgery? Butt lifts and-"

"No." His words were light and airy as he laughed shaking his head "reconstruction surgery."

"Reconstruction?”

“There seems to be an echo in here.” his tone was playful but still nonetheless he nods to confirm your question but he still saw the curiosity on your face "say someone gets into an accident or— a kid falls off their bike let's say he wasn't wearing any protective gear apart from a helmet. No sleeves. No knee pads... no nothing... if he hits the road and skids down it, his skin is either going to be red and sore or his skin is going to be torn off. There's no exact way we can put that dirty infected and broken skin back onto him so we have to reconstruct the skin somehow..."

Your brows raise in interest "so like take it from somewhere less obvious? The leg.. or something?" You speak and he nods taking a sip of the beverage in his ring covered hand,

"Yeah. I mean my job is to simply make the skin look top condition... in the end it doesn't matter where the skin comes from. If it can stretch far enough to cover the wound then you know... it's good enough."

You hum in response clearly rather interested before you smile "that's interesting..." you study him carefully trying to figure him out. You weren’t sure what was wrong with you but Harry seemed to beckon a different side out of you…

"I didn't think a surgeons "thing" was parties..." you soon murmur

"There's a lot of things you don't think, love. If I remind you quickly we've only just met..." his emerald eyes twinkled with amusement brows raised as he smirked.

Your cheeks immediately flush red and you stare at him slightly dumbfounded a nervous smile forming on your face "sorry" you giggle out Harry only shaking his head as he smiled "I'm just kidding. But you're right... parties aren't places surgeons often involve themselves with.. me particularly" he admitted and just as you were about to say something, a different voice cut mine off— “Hey dad can we order pizza?" Your eyes immediately move to the voice. Jamie. His hair slightly dishevelled some red marks left on his neck. Wonderful. But that barely mattered anymore as you looked at who he was talking to… harry. Your heart immediately stops in your chest. Jamie's dad was Harry. The man you were flirting with. That wasn’t flirting though was it? Your stomach flutters nervously. This absolutely was not happening no way…. Your cheeks were a crimson red colour, your eyes slightly wide and your lips slightly parted and god were you glad Harry’s attention wasn’t on you anymore.

"Jamie there's pizza in the fridge. As your mother said, we cannot afford takeaway right now. Remember?" His voice snapped me back out of your thoughts as you focused back on the handsome man, eyes flicking to look at Jamie.

"But dad there's like 80 people here!" He exclaimed Harry's face remaining calm and unfazed "who invited them?" He spoke Jamie's brows arching "you cannot be serious! Oh my god!" The boy yelled before storming off not saying anything else. Childish much? At this old age? Talking to his father like that? Wow the disrespect.

You look back at Harry only when he speaks— "sorry for his behaviour." He spoke as you remained shocked "it's okay... but... I didn't realise you were his dad..." you admit and he smiles slightly "he took his mothers last name. His mother and I are divorced, you see… he doesn’t exactly like that his mother has gone out for a pamper evening and has left me to look after him.” He explained— so Jamie really did have daddy issues? Huh. Your lips part slightly as you realise what he was saying "oh... that makes sense... i- uhm... wow."

Harry nods "Jamie still holds a grudge against me. It's diff-" harry cuts himself off realising what he was saying to his sons friend before he sighed pinching the bridge of his nose "I apologise... uh..." your eyes snap back up to his eyes from roaming across each of his tattoos “Y/n…” you speak with a small smile "I'm sorry y/n... you've come here to party and-" the way your name rolled off of his tongue so perfectly drove you insane and you weren’t sure why. "No sir..." "Harry." He cuts you off making your cheeks flush red "sorry, no Harry. I came here not on my own accord..." you let out a nervous laugh. "My friend begged me to come. I didn't really want to be here anyway so... it's okay. You're far more interesting than this party anyways." You speak soon realising how weird that sounded your eyes widening, Harry quickly catching on as he let out a small chuckle that sounded like honey to your ears— waving one hand at you to signal you not to worry. Dismissing your concerns. "Don't worry. I know what you mean."

You smile feeling the conversation become dry and although you didn't want to leave you knew you should best go find Anna. "I'll see you around, Harry." You speak with a small smile and he nods his head at you "yes you will. I'll see you around, y/n." He tilted his head at you and you smiled before quickly leaving to go and find Anna. As you made your way through all the dancing bodies your eyes finally locked on Anna who seemed to be totally black out drunk. Already. Great! Another time where you had to look after her for her stupid decisions. Her eyes immediately found yours and she practically jumped up and stumbled towards you, lips smushing against your cheek leaving a nice red lipstick mark “Anna you’re so drunk… you really don’t know when you stop.” You murmur to her, watching Jamie drunk too but sensible enough to remain vigilant assuring you that he could deal with her. You were unsure but eventually accepted it walking back to the kitchen and grabbing another drink, sticking to yourself yet throughout the entire night you felt eyes on you… which was an extremely rare occurrence. But this night— someone couldn’t keep their eyes off of you. He couldn’t.

The night continued on, you didn’t touch a drop of alcohol but eventually nearly everyone was filing out and just as you were about to go and find Anna again a cold hand grabbed a hold of your wrist yanking you harshly back into the kitchen where you were roughly slammed against the kitchen counter a pair of dark brown eyes meeting yours— your breath hitched your eyes wide, drink that was once in your hand now on the floor the liquid spilling out of it,

“You’re so pretty…”

The boys wandering hands began groping at your body “p-please get off of me.”

“P-p-p-p… scaredy cat. Never been touched by someone before hmm?”

Hi words were vile and cruel making your stomach churn. “I—“ you tried to gather your thoughts “I don’t even know you! Get off of me!” “Well my names Evan and your name is Y/n. Correct? You know me just fine babe..” a low chuckle left his lips your eyes widening further as you felt his hand suddenly trailing further down your body,

“Somebody hel—“

“Shut up!” His hand clamped over your mouth as he glared into your eyes “don’t you want to not be a virgin anymore? Isn’t that embarrassing? But it makes sense doesn’t it. Have you taken a look at yourself in the mirror lately?” His words are cruel amusement flickering in his dark eyes your breathing growing laboured as tears formed in your eyes “what? Babe I’m telling you the truth don’t you get that? I just want to help—“

“What the fuck is going on here?” The sudden voice made both yours and Evan’s head snap towards the door the once horrible guy now stumbling back, eyes wide as his eyes remain upon Harry. Your breathing trembled, hands shaking “nothing” “nothing? It didn’t look like nothing.” Harry spat out taking intimidating steps towards Evan “I have half the mind to break your jaw…” “you’d be arrested” Evan spat back, Harry raising his brows “on what terms? Self defence? I saw you touching her. I saw her cry. I heard her scream for help whilst you covered her mouth. Now that isn’t very consensual now is it?” You watched with horrified eyes as Harry was now eye to eye with Evan not touching him whatsoever but the clear domination he had, had Evan pressed into the wall looking scared out of his mind “but you’d be arrested. Assault. bodily harm. Sexual assault… I doubt you’d want to find out anymore of the charges you could face… isn’t that correct Evan?”

But before Evan even said anything the once confident asshole had ran straight past Harry, practically shitting himself.

Harry’s jaw was clenched, tempted to go after him but decided not to knowing he had better things to worry about. You. He attempted to calm himself down before he eventually looked towards you noticing how you remained against the counter— still trembling “y/n…” he took a slow advance towards you and your breath hitched “hey… it’s me. It’s all alright.” His tone was softer than before, extending his hand out towards you his concern clear, and before either of you could’ve prepared yourselves you had practically slammed yourself into him arms wrapped securely around his waist, your fingers curled into the material of his shirt as you trembled his tall figure towering over you as he peered down at you, shaking in his embrace, scarred… he secured both arms around you and pulled you closer to the point your face was smushed completely into his chest the smell of his strong expensive cologne drifting into your senses… he smelt like heaven.

His hand slowly traced up and down your back in a soothing manner. “You’re okay, y/n.” His voice was assuring as he kept a tight grip on you attempting to console you as best as possible yet you refused to let him see your face, remaining practically glued to him. “Is there someone you’d like me to call? Someone to take you home?” He questioned but he didn’t get a response out of you, you were shutting down completely as a flight or fight response. He however didn’t push you, instead wrapping his arm around you again as he began leading your half aware self upstairs walking you into the guest bedroom of the large house— closing the door behind the both of you before he sat you down, your shaking hands rushing to grab onto him again scared he was going to leave…

“I’m here y/n. Right here.” He exhaled softly sitting beside you on the bed, his large hand resting upon your shoulder gently— thumb caressing lightly against the material of your dress his eyes watching the top of your head, you refused to look at him and that saddened him. “Hey…” he reached his free hand out towards you finger pressing underneath your chin as he guided you to look at him your eyes filled to the brim with tears “h-harry..” you whimpered his eyes softening and he without even thinking pulled you in close “I’m here. I’m right here…” “please don’t leave.” He silently shook his head and exhaled softly before he kicked his shoes off, the thump of each one landing on the ground making you realise your friends friend dad was sharing a bed with you… to comfort you of course.

Harry leaned back, tattooed arm being quick to pull you close giving you no choice as he simply pulled you on top of him “i— too heavy—“ you breathed out shakily but that didn’t stop the man from pulling you onto his chest, arms tightly wrapped around you “nonsense. Relax.”

Those two words were the only words he spoke to you, forcing you to relax against him, his hand trailing up and down your back soothingly making sure to give you all the comfort possible. He held you tight not daring to let go of you, his eyes constantly checking on you until he believed you were asleep your breathing much more calmer and quiet, but despite the fact that he knew he could leave… he didn’t want to.

9PM slowly rolled to 11PM until it was 4AM— Harry was still wide awake, eyes however slightly hooded his breathing slow and quiet along with yours. You hadn’t stirred at all you remained silent, Harry stayed convincing himself it was because he was worried you would have a nightmare but he knew it was much more than that. Much more. His eyes tiredly focused on the red digital clock 4:15AM… he never called in sick for work— ever. But if he had to, to look after you then he would. He had spent the time you were asleep trying to figure out his feelings, telling himself how wrong it was… but you ignited something within him. Something he couldn’t quite figure out.

“Harry”

Your morning voice was cute somethings harry noticed immediately. “Y/n.” He responded, voice deep but soft his voice confirming he had stayed there for you. He had protected you… something no other guy had done for you… “what time is it?” You ask him groggily as you slowly force yourself to sit up, Harry’s arms unwrapping from around you “4:19” he spoke simply and you rubbed your eyes letting out a quiet groan your head pounding from the events of last night. You were now sat on top of him, slightly straddling him— innocently so Harry’s eyes searching your face tiredly his hands lazily grasping onto your hips mindlessly. “Can I ask you something personal?” You soon question him, his brows arching flawlessly as he tries to figure out what exactly you meant but nonetheless he nodded his head. “Do guys really not like fat girls?”

The question clearly alarmed him, his eyes readjusting on you before he furrowed his brows “what makes you say that?” He murmured quietly “what he said last night… or what he was hinting at. The reason I haven’t lost my virginity yet is because I’m too fat.” Harry stares blankly for a moment or two before he blinks his eyes a bit of surprise lingering on his face not expecting you to be so honest with him seeing as you had only met last night…

“Y/n that was a boy. A boy looks for magazine cover girls… skinny… big boobs big butts— fake. Edited. A man looks for what’s on the inside. A pretty smile. A pretty personality. What’s on the inside… sure people will have their own preferences…. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t beautiful. Because you are.” His eyes remain glued to yours, searching your face for any look of doubt which he could shut down immediately but there was none detected… only surprise. “I’m beautiful?” He nods silently to confirm your shocked question, a smirk forming on his lips making his dimples appear and your breath hitches as you search his face and in those moments you finally realise the position you were in— legs straddling him, hands touching lightly against his chest your eyes widening slightly “I’m so sorry I-“ “stay.” His voice was stern green eyes staring into yours “what?” Your voice is shocked yet again and he smiles

“Be a good girl and stay.”

You felt your heart pounding wildly in your chest your eyes searching his face “you’re beautiful, y/n… you want to know something?” His hands remain resting upon your hips and you nod hesitantly “yesterday when I met you… I was certain you weren’t as innocent as they say you are… but maybe you are… have you ever touched yourself before?” His words leave you shocked, your cheeks furiously heating up as you stare at him shocked “w-what?” “Have you ever touched yourself?” Your breath hitched feeling him rub soothing circles into your hips your eyes searching his face certain he was toying with you…. To make you feel some sort of hope… or maybe he just felt bad for you and at that thought your heart dropped “Harry I— I don’t need your sympathy please… I—“

“Who said anything about sympathy y/n? Have you touched yourself before? A simple question.” His words made a hot fever like wave flush into your stomach a shaky breath leaving your lips “yes… but…” your mouth got as dry as a bone as you attempted to wrack your brain to not say something stupid. “But…?” He coaxed delicately your eyes snapping to meet his again “but I can’t get what I want.” He quirks a brow and you knew that he knew what you meant. He wasn’t stupid. “It’s embarrassing—“ “oh no it’s not.” His large hand caresses against your cheek, finger tips soon curling around the nape of your neck as he began pulling you closer to him until you were practically inches away from one another…

“It’s okay y/n.”

You search his eyes nervously and he smiles a slight twinkle in his eyes making your stomach flutter with butterflies “life is a learning curve…”

You stare at him expectantly, confused, watching as he smiled “you just haven’t had the right teacher.” His words made your stomach leap as your breath caught in your throat… what did that mean? He was going to teach you? But before you could’ve even asked he had sat himself up, back against the headboard— lips finding yours in a deep sensual kiss his fingers pressed against the nape of your neck keeping you still the kiss getting deeper, more passionate, leaving you breathless— you weren’t even sure you were doing it correctly, Harry pulling back momentarily to look at you “Harry I don’t know how to do this.”

“Don’t worry, love.” His tone was reassuring as he smiled calmly at you. “Just follow my lead.”

His lips attached to yours again his kiss making you dizzy. It was addicting. His hands trailed up and down your sides delicately, before his hands carefully began prying at the hem of your dress guiding it further and further upwards before finally removing it from your body his eyes studying you. He looked at you as if you were a supermodel…

“Lay down.”

His tone was demanding but you still did so. Getting off of him and laying down, left only in your bra and underwear which was highly vulnerable for you but you tried not to stress too much.

He got onto his knees, the bed creaking slightly as he adjusted himself over you, his lips pressing against yours gently as he began kissing down your neck— sucking slightly every so often hearing the sweet sounds that left your mouth “that feel good hm?” You nodded your head gently the simplicity of him kissing your neck drove you absolutely wild your stomach in knots but it felt good. He began trailing kisses down your body, lips pressing softly against your tummy insecurity immediately getting the best of you as you whined attempting to cover up “hey..” he strict voice grabbed your attention “you’re beautiful.” He spoke making you remove your hands which were nervously remaining close to your body. He eventually continued to leave kisses all over until eventually he had reached your thighs his eyes flicking up to meet yours “get comfortable.” He spoke simply watching you grab a few pillows before you laid down comfortably “good girl.”

He peered down just between your thighs— closing his mouth as he sucked in a sharp breath as the sight of you before him… all for him. To devour. To ruin. To make sure you knew your worth… all. For. Him. “If you want me to stop at any point. We can. Understood?” He spoke watching you nod “use your words, Angel.” “Yes Harry.” You spoke shakily and he smiled. Boundaries were always good to have in place. He wanted you to know that you were allowed to have boundaries. You felt the sensation of your panties being slid down your legs, exposing your heat to him— using one single finger to trace up and down your slit a shiver running directly down your spine a low whimper leaving your lips “feels good hm” your breath only hitched no words leaving your mouth as the odd but wonderful sensation soon becomes your favourite thing. His finger didn’t linger too long in any specific place— sliding up and down before mercilessly toying with your clit. Pointer finger delicately tracing around the bud whines and moans leaving your lips as he watched your every reaction as if he was taking an image of the moment in his mind. Not wanting to forget it. “That’s it relax… relax for me y/n.” He praised delicately watching how your body relaxed further into the bed his tongue soon adding to the pleasure, flicking over your clit and all over your body shaking with the new feelings erupting throughout you “feel good angel?”

“Yes sir” a cry of pleasure leaves your lips and for the first time Harry didn’t correct you— instead he smirked, tongue lashing more fervently against your heat.

As your body began to squirm his large hands grasped onto your thighs, holding your still keeping you down for him as he continued flicking his tongue all over your core. “A-ah harry..” you cried out your back arching up off of the bed as an unfamiliar feeling surrounded you— tingles running up and down your body “that’s it… that’s it… oh such a good girl…” incoherent whimpers of his name left your lips until eventually your first orgasm ripped throughout you— Harry moaning, the sound of his moan enticing something within you a look of pride within his eyes “good girl.” He smiled genuinely as you panted, attempting to calm yourself down. He repositioned himself on his knees his hand beginning to trace up and down your arm slowly and carefully soothing you, allowing you to catch your breath your hands working before your brain as you reached out towards his jeans— his ring covered hands immediately stopping your hands,

“Ah ah impatient our we?”

A smirk tugged at his lips “please.” You spoke and he studied you carefully “tell me.” He spoke tenderly “tell me what you want to do?” One hand traced up to your cheek which he caressed gently, thumb brushing over your lower lip delicately “make you feel good…” you murmured softly Harry quirking a brow at your innocence but he decided not to pry. Instead he nodded “are you sure?”

He watched you nod your eyes meeting his again “you’re my teacher right?”

He smirked slightly and let out a low chuckle before he only nodded. Allowing you to undo his jeans as he leaned back. His length was hard— his hand immediately beginning to rub up and down your eyes watching him carefully “see what I’m doing?” He spoke, you nodding. “You do that.” You slowly took over your hand beginning to pump up and down, his head leaning backwards eyes rolling into the back of his head slightly and the more comfortable you got the more quick your pace grew “you’re doing it darling… you’re doing great.” He praised breathy moans continuing to leave his lips— he continued guiding you until his hand was in your hair, helping you as your mouth began hollowing out around him, tongue swirling around the tip— doing everything almost naturally Harry’s groans and moans growing louder

“Fuck y/n your mouth feels so good… fuck!”

His grip tightened on your hair helping move your head up and down until eventually his cock twitched and his orgasm wrapped around him his moans gravelly and beautiful driving you insane making you want more… desperate for more… greedy for more… and as he pulled you up and off of him by the hair his eyes were glazed over with hunger “fuck… you felt so fucking good.” He spoke clearly feeling the same. Just as hungry for more his hand coming to caress against your cheek lightly your eyes showing your hunger into which his thumb stroked against your lower lip “next time.” Next time? His eyes searched your face and he smirked slightly “next time when we’re alone in the house I’ll teach you some more.. but for now… we don’t want to get caught do we?” He smirked slightly before shaking his head chuckling slightly “you did so good.” He pulled you in for a light kiss a little confident grin tugging at your lips…

“Learnt from the best.” You whispered his green eyes glowering into yours as he grinned keeping a hold on you… it was very clear neither of you were forgetting each other anytime soon.

I hope this was okay and you enjoyed it! I kinda just went with the flow rather than with an actual idea in my head so I hope it isn’t awful… I haven’t written smut in a while so excuse it if it’s bad… anyways more stories coming hopefully soon! Thanks for reading loves!!

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[starlightandfairies]

Omg i looooove you !! I might have another idea, just something simple like, the reader and Elijah are dating but his calls won't get any reply for nearly a whole day. So as worried as he is, he comes to your house, finding you terribly sick and immediately turns into nurse mode to take care of you and making sure you get better soon ? 🥺

Description: The reader becomes unwell with a cold and due to missing calls this worries Elijah and once he discovers the truth he ends up playing nurse.

Warnings: she/her pronouns, fluff, swearing

*Requests are open, please send through as many requests as you want, check my character list and requesting rules.*

Thank you for another request! I hope you enjoy this one too! Sorry it's a short one

Key: Y/N = Your Name, L/N = Last name, POV = Point of view

Word Count: 822

First Person's POV

When Elijah and I didn't see each other we would have an hour-long phone call if it were possible. Even if we had seen each other all day, before I would go to bed he'd practically talk to me until I fell asleep. I loved listening to his loving, gentle, tender and handsome voice. I love the fact that of all people, Elijah chose me. A human. At first, when our relationship started getting more serious, he was scared of getting carried away and forgetting that I am a human... so he was gentle and I mean he's still incredibly gentle with me but he's less hesitant when we're being more intimate. 

Another thing that I adored about Elijah was how he looked after my every need, he was thoughtful and would remember things about me that I don't even remember mentioning to him but the fact that he knew me inside and out about my likes and dislikes it made me feel special and cared for. 

I got think, I hated being sick, half the time when I'm sick I can hardly look at the light and pretty much have to sit in a dark room. My bedroom floor was decorated with tissues, I looked gross and I felt gross. I hadn't been on my phone all day, forgetting to tell Elijah about the fact that I was sick and wouldn't be on the phone. 

I groaned, burying my face into the pillow as my headache banged against my head, the doorbell rang a few times and it took me longer than normal to get to the front door. I jumped seeing Elijah about to walk in with concern and worry covering his features. I cannot imagine how I looked, I am sure that I looked just as bad as I felt. My nose must be all red and my eyes must be puffy. He instantly pulled me into his arms, stepped into my home and rested a gentle kiss on my forehead. 

"Oh, sweetheart, I wished you would've told me that you were sick." He cooed, easily picking me up, resting my head on his shoulder and carried me back to my room. The vampire proceeded to rest his suit coat on my dresser chair and rested me on my bed. 

"I'll run a shower for you, you know they help and make you feel fresher." I pathetically nodded, leaning into him as he rested another kiss on my forehead. Elijah got the warm water running, the steam from the bathroom sneaking into my bedroom as I waddled into the bathroom. Once I managed to leave the warm cocoon of the water I smiled seeing new pyjamas resting on the counter. I dressed myself and curled back into bed, waiting for Elijah to come back. 

"I got some Vicks, sore throat lozenge, pain killers, water and chicken soup with the noodles drained out." 

"Oh, you really love me," I whispered, pushing myself up and smiling tiredly at Elijah as he rested the soup on my bedside table, placed the water down and sat down beside me gesturing to the Vicks vapour rub, asking permission to rub it on. I stared at him as he began rubbing it across my chest, he had a kind smile on his lips and whispered softly. 

"You must think I am attractive right now," I mumbled, buttoning my shirt back up as he finished rubbing the stuff on me. 

"I think you're absolutely stunning every day I lay my eyes on you. There's never a time when you're not stunning." 

"You're a liar." 

"I never lie." He whispers. Kissing my forehead, smiling softly and grabbing the bowl of soup. Elijah proceeded to feed me a spoonful of the soup. Elijah would take pauses when I needed a break, he would stare at me with adoration in his eyes and would whisper words of love. 

After having me take painkillers, then had me have the lozenge. Elijah brought me into his arms, stroking my cheek with a small smile. I fell asleep wrapped in his arms, my head aching once I woke up once more. I groaned, feeling hot and stuffy. I pushed myself out of bed, jumping to find Elijah right at my side. 

"What can I do for you, my love?" 

"I need fresh air, I feel all hot and yucky again." He picked me up as if I were a fragile piece of glass, I clutched onto him gently, letting him easily carry me out to the sitting area outside and rested me on the lounge chair. I hummed gently as Elijah began reading a passage from his book, a loving look in his eyes and his voice soothing enough to make me feel better and the low hum made the headache go away and everything seem okay. 

#the originals #fluff #angst #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson imagine #the mikaelsons #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson x y/n #klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson fluff #klaus mikaelson fluff #daniel gillies #joseph morgan #rebekah mikaelson #hayley marshall #marcel gerard #freya mikaelson #kol mikaelson #niklaus mikaelson #niklaus imagines #niklaus x reader #niklaus mikaelson x reader #niklaus mikaelson fluff #niklaus mikaelson angst #klaus mikealson x reader #klaus mikaleson imagine #klaus mikealson fanfiction #klaus mikaelson one shot

[frmegaverse]

⋆ ☄︎. ·˚ * 🔭 STARRY EYES SPARKING UP ME DARKEST NIGHTS ࿐

⊹ ݁ ִ  ۫ You have a panic attack while promoting your solo and Seungmin helps you through it.

★☆! pairing: idol!seungmin x idol!fem!reader

★☆! warnings: descriptions of panic attacks & social anxiety. reader is a bit apprehensive about seungmin initially. mentions of criminal minds(?). mentions of hate / cyber bullying. very fluffy. open ending (part two?????)

★☆! word count: 2.4k

vivi speaks !! the way i started working on this in december of 2022 😭😭 but i’ve finally finished it, so who cares. let me know if u guys want a part 2 :), maybe i can finish it before i finish college hehe.

It’s bad. 

Like truly bad. 

This is not your first time at such event. Having debuted a while ago, you slowly got used to award shows, especially with the help of your members who are always there for you. 

Maybe that’s the issue.

You never had to make an acceptance speech, never had to be the center of attention, always letting your members take care of that — they’ve always gone above and beyond to make you comfortable during these events anyways. So now that you’re alone for the first time in what feels like ages, you simply don’t know what to do.

The anxiety mixed with the fear of embarrassing yourself in front of everyone was what led you to your current situation. Alone in a dark hallway you bite your lips as strongly as you can to stop the tears from falling and ruining your makeup — you still have to perform after all. Your head is so fuzzy that, even though you’re sitting down, you feel like you’re about to fall at any given moment, and you swear you can feel your skeleton shaking inside of you.

Your palms are sweating, but the sensation you have is that all blood stopped running in your veins. Your breath is erratic and the oxygen burns your lungs, your heart beating so fast you can feel it hitting against your rib cages, the blood running through your ears louder than your thoughts. 

As we established earlier, things are not looking good for you right now. 

You don’t even know how long you’ve been there — it could be minutes, seconds, hours. At your current state of mind, years could’ve passed and you wouldn't have noticed a change in the weather.

As matter of fact, you didn’t even notice the hallway lights turning on, let alone the person that lit them.

“Oh shit!” They cursed lowly, taken by surprise by the zombie-like girl sitting on the floor.

While they cautiously scan the body in search of any sign of life, your eyes finally pick up on the sudden clarity. Shooting your head up at an incredible speed, your eyes meet with a slightly scared Kim Seungmin.

Your slowler-than-usual brain takes a moment to kick in, finally warning you that you should get your shit together — especially in front of your senior —, and so you do, getting up way faster than expected. Your vision goes completely black for a second or two, making you bow lower than intended.

“Hello.” You greet him, your vision still not completely back as your upper body goes up once again. 

Trying to find some kind of stability, you reach for the nearest wall to lean against. Scared that you might fall and hurt yourself, Seungmin runs to you, firmly grabbing both your shoulders before pulling your waist, stabilizing your dizzy self against his chest. 

In any other scenario you would probably push him away and call him a creep, but now you reserve yourself to accept the help without second guessing his true intentions. 

“Woah! Calm down,” His voice is still low, not much higher than a whisper, “Are you okay? Do you need something?”

Once your vision goes back to normal you separate yourself from the boy, who reluctantly lets you go, not leaving too much space between the two of you just in case. 

Averting his gaze, you try to fix your eye makeup to look a little more presentable. “Yeah, yeah. I, uh, I just-” You stop yourself for a moment, your brain cells working extra-hour to come up with something to say. A pathetic “I’m fine,” is the best you can manage to do.

“You don’t seem fine to me.”

“Well, you’re wrong. I am fine.” You immediately bite back, sounding way more defensive than intended, instant regret kicking in for being such a bitch to someone who was just trying to help. “i’m sorry…” you whisper.

Seungmin, on the other hand, didn’t seem offended one bit by your hostility, no. He was way more focused on finding out what was going on. 

Trying to make you feel more comfortable, he was quick to change the subject. “Aren’t you, uh…” He stops, waiting for you to introduce yourself to him.

As your foggy mind goes into autopilot once again, you bow for a second time, formally introducing yourself and your group for him. 

Seungmin can’t help but chuckle at your excess of formality. “There is no need for all of this, we’re basically the same age.” 

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” 

And so, the small talk dies silent. 

You force yourself to come up with something to say, but nothing comes to mind. What are you even supposed to say in a moment like this? It’s not like the two of you had ever talked before. Yeah, some of your members are close to the Stray Kids’ boys, it’s true, but you personally never really talked to anyone outside your own label — screw it, you’ve barely talked to anyone outside your own group. 

As if the situation couldn’t get any worse, your palms start to sweat again, the fear of having another panic attack in front of Seungmin becoming a trigger to you. Sharp nails scratching against the skin of your thumb.

The boy picks up quickly on what’s happening, bringing your attention to him once again. “Hey,” He straightened himself, taking a couple steps past you, near the end of the corridor, “wanna see something cool?”

Not wanting to be rude, you nod. And so he kept going, with you right behind him (well, not exactly right behind, since there was so much your trembling legs could do right now; still, you felt like you weren’t going that slow — even though it took you 30 extra seconds to get to the end of that 2 meters corridor).  

When you got there, you noticed that there was only a big metal door with a handwritten ‘Authorized People Only’ sign taped to it. You were about to ask him if this was the right place when Seungmin opened said door.

“No one comes here, don’t worry.” He explained.

Holding the door with one arm, he motions for you to go in. 

Obviously, if you were in your right mind, this whole thing would be the biggest red flag ever (a man you don’t know being weirdly touchy with you and then inviting you to go to a secluded area where “no one goes to”? You’ve watched way too many real crime videos to fall for that), but since you’re not in the best of your judgment at the moment, you obey his orders without thinking twice. 

Your friends know him, what’s the worst that can happen? 

Looking around a bit, you couldn’t be less interested. The room seemed like a technical room, filled with tangled wires connected to some sort of power walls. Is this Seungmin’s definition of a “cool place”? If so, that’s pretty anticlimactic.  

“What is this place?” You ask as the door behind you closes by itself, making a heavy sound, the room immediately becoming pitch black.

Seungmin turns on his flashlight, the position making the bright light hit you right in the eyes; you wince in discomfort, covering your face. “Sorry,” He repositions the cellphone, pointing to the floor instead of your face, “This is just a wire room, for some lights and special effects,” He shrugs, moving the cellphone around like he searched for something. 

“Hmm,” You nod, looking around once again. “So… what are we doing here?” 

“Oh, this is not the cool place, silly,” He laughs. Pointing the flashlight to his right, you follow the light’s path, surprised as you notice the emergency stair at the wall, “it’s up there.” 

Seungmin gets closer to the stairs, you follow him. He takes a moment to decide if it was better for you or him to climb first, opting to have you staring at his ass instead of the contrary. And so he puts his cellphone in his pocket and goes, as you blindly follow him once again, struggling to climb in your stage outfit. 

At the top, he pushes the trapdoor open and climbs in, helping you to do the same. Once you stabilize your boots on the floor, you take a moment to look around. You’re at the rooftop, as you expected. The cold air of the early winter hits you like a train, making you hug yourself by instinct as shivers run through your body, the tiny, sleeveless dress you’re using doing absolutely nothing to help. Looking up at the sky you can actually see a couple stars here and there. 

“Wow! It’s beautiful,” You say under your breath. 

Seungmin, who was already looking at you, can’t help but notice how your eyes shine just as bright as the stars. Taking his denim jacket off he places it on your shoulders, using the proximity to guide you closer to the edge. Looking down, you can barely see the people walking on the streets, they all look so tiny from here, like the world below you is just a model; a colony of ants.

So tiny, so delicate.

It really makes you wonder how such delicate species can be so mean. So terrifying. So heartless. The things you’ve seen, you’ve read, you’ve heard; they couldn’t possibly have come from them, could it? After what felt like a life of being submitted to so much inhumanity, you start to question what “being a human” truly means. 

If it’s the ability to feel empathy for others that separates us from the other species, what will be left of us if it’s all gone?

When your grip on the metal bar tightens, Seungmin decides it is time to intervene. “I was listening to your song on my way here,” Seungmin admits, “well, it was Felix who put in on the car’s speaker, but you know. I really liked it.”

Your head spins at him, your gazes meeting for a second before you avert it. “Oh, uh, thanks. It was my first time writing- I mean, not my first time, I’ve written things before, but I never felt like it was good enough. I always thought I was better at composing rather than writing, you know?! But this time it was just… I don’t know. I had this idea in my mind, and the words kept coming so I wrote them down and, well, the rest is history.” You shrug, beating yourself mentally for talking too much. 

“I really like your writing style. It’s very unique, just like you.” His attempt at flirting makes you laugh for the first time that night, and when Seungmin hears your shy giggles turn into a full laugh, he can’t help but laugh too. “Yah, why are you laughing?!” He pretended to be offended. 

“You’re so corny.”

“I’m not corny, I’m romantic.”

Romantic? You can’t lie, that pulled at your heart strings a bit. 

Still, you roll your eyes at him, trying to convey annoyance, your smiley face totally giving you away, “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Romeo.”

“Oh c’mon, it was pretty smooth, at least give me that!”

“Alright, alright. It was pretty smooth, I admit,” You threw your hands in the air, defeated. 

You turned around in your heels, back pressed against the railing. “So, how’d you find out about this place?!” 

“I’m just nosy.” He shrugged. 

“Oh yeah, I believe that.” 

Seungmin scoffed. “I saw the ‘authorized people only’ sign and came in.” 

“You were coming here when you… found me?” 

“Yes.”

“Any reason why..?” 

“You’re also very nosy, aren’t you missy?!” 

You laugh, giving the boy besides you a playful slap.

Seungmin laughed too, averting his gaze, “I just like coming here before a performance. Helps unwind the tension. It’s kind of a ritual of mine at this point.” 

You nodded. This time, the silence that formed between you two was comfortable. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to feel the moment, without worrying so much about, well, everything. 

Seungmin didn’t say anything either. 

You two stayed like this for a while, just enjoying the cold breeze hitting you two. You wondered if he was cold like you, and you even thought of offering his jacket back, but it was just so warm (and it smelled so good). 

After a minute or two (more like several), you opened your eyes again, lookin at your side where Seungmin stood. He leaned over the rails, hands clasped together as he looked up at the sky. 

There were no direct lights up here, so it was up to the moon to provide some light for you two. As you look at Seungmin, you notice the way his eyes reflect the moonlight. It was like he held a moon in each of his pupils, only for him, like some sort of mystical being. A kind of God who has moons for eyes and the kindest heart. 

God what am I thinking?

You shook your head, laughing at yourself. The melodic sound of your laugh perked his attention, his head turning to you, his smile mimicking yours. 

“What?” He asked. 

You looked back at him, shaking your head. For the first time that night, the two of you held eye contact for more than a couple seconds. 

“I think I should get going…” You say. There is a hint of sadness in your voice, your eyes never leaving his. “My manager probably already called the cops the second she saw I wasn’t in the dressing room.” 

Seungmin nodded, his expression turning down. He didn’t say anything. You wondered if you should say something, but decided against it. 

It wasn’t until you were already halfway through the roof that you turned back, running back towards Seungmin, who was now resting against the railing watching you go. When you got to him, you wrapped your arms around his waist in a tight hug, catching him by surprise. 

When the shock wore off, he engulfed your much smaller figure in his arms, and you hoped he couldn’t feel your giant smile against him. 

“Thank you, Seungmin.” 

“Y- You’re welcome.” 

You let go of him, really leaving this time around. 

As you climbed the stairs back down still wearing his jacket, your heart was pounding again, but now for totally different reasons. And your mind couldn’t help but wonder if this was the start of a great friendship, or perhaps something more was to come out of it…

#( ⋆｡˚꩜ ) stray kids #stray kids #stray kids seungmin #kim seungmin #seungmin fanfic #stray kids fanfic #seungmin fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids scenarios #seungmin scenarios #stray kids drabbles #skz #skz fluff

[mechformers]

Ma Miles - Ch. 6

5.2k words

Bold letters are spoken in English by the Reader to Quaritch.

It's been my birthday today, so have this little extra chapter! :D

I'm having so much fun with this story and your kind comments are watering my crops and feeding me so well. Thank you all so much!

(I see that people doing taglists and thought that it might be fun, so if you want to be tagged with the updates, please leave your @ myusername in the comments)

Previous chapter | Masterpost | Chapter 7

Waking up to the demon’s annoying voice, you growl furiously as he steps closer to the cot on the floor which substitutes as your nest. You’re crouched protectively over Spider’s still sleeping form, your anger rising at the rude skxawng before you. Looking into the demon’s eyes, however, proved more difficult than it should have been. The sharp yellow depths had plagued you the entire night, waking you with both fear and horror. 

“He always sleep this soundly?” The demon asks, lowering himself to a crouch a few steps away from your cot. 

“No,” You sneer, insulted that he would even ask. 

“Wake up on the wrong side of the bed today, sweetcheeks?” He grins, the sides of his eyes crinkling as he finds humor in whatever it was he said. 

“What?” You bark back, which only makes the demon grin wider. 

“Doesn’t matter,” He waves his long hand in the air between you, “Ready for a new day of teaching?”

“It is day already?” You can’t help but ask, turning your head around the always-lit, cold room. 

“Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t know, now would you, sweetcheeks…” He seems to fall deep into thoughts at that, his brows furrowing slightly before he nods gently to himself and gets up to his feet. “Breakfast is in ten, be ready,”

And with that, the demon is out of the see-through metal doors once more. The second swishing of the door wakes Spider, his messy head lifting in confusion as he looks in the direction of the door. Your son had always been slow to wake up and the fact that he still was, brought you much joy. Looking down at him, you can’t help but brush the hair back from his face. Brown, warm eyes meet yours as he smiles up at you. 

“You’re still here,” He mumbles before yawning and stretching. 

“I will always be here, my life,” You hum back at him, watching as his gentle smile morphs into a smirk. 

“What do you think they’ll have us do today?” 

“Teaching them ‘the Na’vi way’, what else?” You say, trying your best to sound like the demon. 

Spider snorts before falling into a fit of laughter. Looking down at your son, you revel in just how grown he had become. Glittering brown eyes look up at you, his face bathed in joy as he gently pulls your queue. 

“That was so incredibly bad, mom,” He grins, crossing his arms over his chest, “He sounds more like he’s constantly constipated and angry,”

“You’re right,” You can’t help but chuckle at his description of the demon, thinking that it’s spot on. 

“And what are we laughing at?” The demon asks as he walks through the see-through metal doors, carrying a plate of some kind. 

Immediately, the good mood turns sour as he walks further into the room, the see-through metal door swishing closed behind him. Dropping the plate on the table, you look at it with distaste. There are two light brown squares with something a little darker brown on top of it. It’s clumpy and smells strange. On top of that, something red and sweet-smelling was spread. Looking up, you watch as the demon pushes sticks through two squares in his hand before placing them on the table too. 

“Eat up,” He grounds, taking a step back before placing his long hands on his narrow hips. 

“What is that?” You can’t help yourself from asking, wrinkling your nose at the strong smell. 

“Peanut butter n’ jelly on toast and milk,” He deadpans, pointing one of his hands at the food as if it should have been obvious what it was. 

In your peripheral, you can see Spider curiously approaching the table, nose in the air as he steps closer. Hissing, you wrap your hand around his upper arm, pulling him back. You will not let this demon poison your son with this food-like substance. 

“This is not food,” You sneer at the demon, watching as he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“If you’re not gonna eat, then get moving,” He barks back, slapping his hand over the box that opens the see-through metal door. 

Outside, Lyle and Mansk stand waiting, their expressions unreadable behind their eye shiels. Following the demon, you step out of your metal room once more, closely followed by the other two. Walking through the corridors you take note of each and every turn, trying your best to remember them. One day, you will have the chance to escape this place, be it in here or out in the forest. You would need the knowledge. 

The helicopter ride this time is silent, the tension thick in the air between you. You’re taken to the same place as yesterday, but this time, instead of using the ropes, the demon jumps from the hovering helicopter, landing ungracefully and too hard on the ground. The grunt can be heard over the sound of the helicopter wings. Rolling your eyes, you look back at the others. 

“Take the rope down, I will teach you later,” You watch as they lower their ropes like last time, getting ready to lower themselves with their feet once more. 

Motioning for Spider to get on your back, you wait until he’s settled safely before letting yourself drop down to the ground where the demon still mutters what had to be curses. His eyes are narrowed, his ears slicked back as he looks up at you, his anger so obvious it’s almost dripping off of him. 

“You should not jump, when you do not know how to,” Walking past the demon, you can hear him grumbling something behind you as the unit snickers. 

Spider crawls down from your back as you continue to walk into the forest, looking for Puffball, Spartan, or Yovo trees for some fruit. On your way, you passed a few Dapophet trees, but for now, you would focus on the fruit trees and their roots. Looking back at the unit, you notice how all of them have dropped their boots, some of them even shortening their leg clothing as Z-Dog had. Smiling to yourself you see Spider running in front, helping you find what you needed. 

“How much further, Miss?” Brown pipes up from the back. 

“Until we find what we looking for,” You smile back at him, noting how he breathes heavily. 

Walking over to him, you put your hand on his forehead, noting how he’s burning up. You’re not even surprised if what the demon served you for breakfast is what they eat on a daily basis. Taking his wrist, you pull him with you, nodding for Spider to continue his search. Luckily you don’t have to look for much longer. 

“Here, eat this and sit down,” You pick a few puffball leaves, giving them to him before walking over to the Yovo tree, taking a few fruits from it. 

“It tastes… I don’t know the word. It’s good for you,” You explain to him just as he’s about to eat a leaf. “This tastes sweet,”

“What are you giving him?” The demon steps up and asks, his voice gruff as his brows furrow in worry. 

“Food,” You deadpan, crossing your arms as you pin him with a stare. 

“He ate this morning,” He counters as if you were playing a game of who-knew-what. 

“Your food is no good, Na’vi needs more,” At that, the demon doesn’t have anything to say. Instead, he gets a worried look on his face. It softens your anger at him. 

Gathering the unit, you keep an eye on Brown as he eats while you explain to them how a Na’vi at any stage in life needs to eat and how to recognize the safe and easy fruits, leaves, and roots. Lyle is surprisingly enthusiastic about the different foods and how they’re prepared, asking questions and volunteering to try things first. You’ve noticed that the others aren’t as interested until they get to try whatever it is you’re doing, only then do they enthusiastically tackle the task as if it were a competition between them. During all of this, the demon keeps to the back, silently observing, his curiosity maybe the biggest of them all. 

Days go by in much the same way. They come to get your son and you in the morning before leaving straight away, eating breakfast in the forest instead of the ridiculous things they ate before. After Brown’s fever, they got a clear picture that their new bodies needed different kinds of food from the ones they were used to eating. 

Their jumping was improving, some of them even dared to take the first jump from the helicopter, while others hesitated a little. The demon still didn’t dare to jump after his failed first attempt. You still remember how stiff he had been the day after his first jump, playing it off as sleeping wrong in his nest, but you knew. You could see it in the way he walked, in the way he held himself, and in how he learned how to jump the right way. 

Today, you started teaching them how to hunt for fish. You were no hunter in your tribe, no gatherer or warrior, but you could still fend for yourself when you needed to. The unit loved hunting, all of them taking to it as if they had done nothing else in their lives, the demon and Mansk maybe more so than the others. Their prayers were a bit difficult, but in the end, they mostly got it. 

For the first time, you had decided to let them experience the eclipse and all that the darkness brought to Pandora. In preparation, you had searched for a spot that didn’t cross paths with any predator's hunting routes, praying to Eywa that you would not accidentally cross paths with one. 

“Stay close and do not wander,” You remind them again just before the eclipse is complete, bathing Pandora in total darkness for only a few minutes before Eywa’s children awaken. 

The bioluminescence takes their breaths away, the entire unit turning in circles as they watch the forest come to life before them in the darkness. The demon, standing beside Spider and you, wears an expression of complete awe, his eyes wide, ears twitching as his tail swishes behind him. The curiosity all but rolls off of him as he reaches a hand out to touch a flower. It glows brighter, illuminating his long fingers before the ground beneath his feet lights up, glowing brightly. 

In awe, you watch as atokirina's falls from the skies, slowly making their way down to the demon. The ground he stands on still glows as the first one lands on him, the demon raising his hand as if to swat it away before looking at you. The way you stare at him however, halts his movement, and only a moment later, he lowers his hands, letting it hang by his side as more atokirina’s land on him. By the time they’ve stopped falling, they’re covering him from top to toe, breathing deeply with him as the demon looks at you for guidance. 

“What are they?” He rumbles low as if to not disturb them. 

“They are atokirina, woodsprites,” You start, swallowing audibly, “They are sacred - pure spirits,”

“What are they doing on me then?” The demon tries to be funny, but surprisingly, you can hear the uncertainty behind his voice. 

“Eywa has spoken,” You whisper, more so to yourself than to any of the others. 

With a soft swoosh, the spirits lift from the demon’s body, slowly floating away on their quest to wherever Eywa sent them next. You’re left staring at the demon for long moments, his own eyes staring at you. When the eclipse ends, you’re not sure what to do next, so you lead them back to the waterfall, letting them play as you continue to stare at the demon. 

“Listen, darling,” He starts as he walks up to you, startling you out of your thoughts. But instead of continuing, he falters before sighing deeply, his long fingers pinching the bridge of his nose again as you end up just standing there in silence. 

The darkness of night has wrapped around Pandora by the time you’re at the base once more. Walking after the demon to your metal room, you’re surprised to see that you’re not taking the usual way. The demon leads you through dark corridors that lead to a big community room of some sort. You walk on through it, taking note of the beautiful big see-through metal walls. How you long to be able to go into the forest at will. Walking into yet another corridor, which leads to another and then another one after that, you notice how the doorways are your size this time. Still, the demon keeps on walking until you reach the end. 

He swipes his hand over the box on the door, waiting until it lights green before pushing the door open. It leads to another room, this one with a see-through metal wall overlooking the forest in the distance. Walking over to the wall, you lay your hand on the cold metal, longing to be back with the Great Mother again. Turning, you catch the demon off guard, his eyes gentle, lips slightly parted. 

“This will be your new room,” He lets you know, face hardening once more as his shoulders straighten. “Corporal Wainfleet is on that side of the wall and I’m on this side, so don’t try anything,”

You watch as he points left and right, noting that the demon’s room is the one at the end. Scenting the air, however, you notice how the room smells like Lyle. Instantly, you feel your heart clench for the man. It’s not easy to just uproot and move what was once yours, to do so for an enemy could not be easy for the gentle man. 

“I will say thank you to Lyle tomorrow,” You inform the demon, watching as shock spreads across his face before curiosity sets in. Showing the demon gratitude, you decide to explain how you knew.  “Na’vi has good smell. This room smell like him,”

“You can smell and place our differences?” The demon asks, eyes wide as he lowers his head in curiosity. 

“It is the Na’vi way,” You smile up at him, noting how he becomes deep in thought. 

“And you recognize Lyle’s scent?” 

“Yes,”

“Do you recognize the others too?” He prompts, looking at you with some kind of wonder. 

You just nod, watching as he straightens once more, still deep in thought. Spider shifts in your arms, still deep asleep. Smiling down at him, you note just how much he’s grown in the last year. He’s becoming a young man too quickly, yet not fast enough. Times like this, when he would crawl into your arms or fall asleep on you, had become fewer as he grew. You couldn’t help the small part of you that was grateful to prolong these moments, your motherly instincts not ready to let your son go just yet. 

“Do you recognize my scent too?” The question is asked so softly, so filled with genuine curiosity, that you almost miss it, too wrapped up in your own guilty musings. 

“Yes,” You still hear yourself reply gently. 

Looking up from your son’s sleeping face, you’re met with the sharp yellow ones of the man standing before you. There’s something so soft in them this time, it pulls you in, captivates you, freezing you to the spot. There’s something being said without words, but you can’t hear it, too lost in the demon’s eyes to notice anything at all. 

“What’s going on?” Spider asks from your arms, breaking the spell that had wrapped itself around you. 

Immediately, the demon breaks eye contact, the harsh mask sliding over his face once more. Nodding, he turns around and walks toward the door, opening it briskly before slamming it shut again, leaving you staring after him in silent bewilderment. 

“Mom, where are we?” Spider climbs down from your arms, looking around the lit room with curiosity. 

“Our new room,” You turn to him, smiling gently as you see him touch and lift things. 

“Seriously?” Spider turns to you, the surprise clear on his face. 

“That’s what he said,”

You watch as Spider walks around the room, touching and inspecting decorations as he goes. There’s a black shiny thing on the wall opposite the big nest, another door beside the one the demon had walked through. Walking over to the nest, you scent it, noticing how it doesn’t smell of Lyle at all. In fact, it doesn’t smell like anyone, the scent strong and harsh like the metal room you came from. Maybe it had not been used before? But then, where had Lyle been sleeping? 

A sharp sound came from the black shiny thing on the wall as Spider fickled with a black stick. Taking hold of your son, you lift him up and out of danger as you take the closest thing to you and throw it at the thing. It whines and screams, its big eye blinking rapidly before eventually closing its eye again. Screaming at it, you press yourself to the furthest corner of the room, placing Spider safely behind you as you stand ready for the next attack. 

“What in the everloving tarnation is going on?” The demon bursts through the door, knife at the ready, before a few of the others follow close behind him, weapons at the ready too. 

“Stay away, demon!” You scream at him, furious that he would be cruel enough to lull you into a sense of safety before leaving you in a room filled with hidden danger. 

“What did you do?” He walks up to the dead creature on the wall, touching the big closed eye before putting his hands on his almost bare hips, a deep scowl on his face. 

“It is dead.” You hiss back proudly, watching as his face darkens at his failed attempt at killing you.

“Lord, give me strength,” The demon mumbles, his long fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he closes his eyes for a moment. “It’s a TV,”

“You can’t exactly expect them to know these things, boss,” Lyle chuckles from behind him, pulling a hushed chuckle from Mansk and Brown behind him. 

“Thank you for your brilliant observation, Corporal,” The demon snaps back before turning to you again. “It’s not dangerous, sweetheart,”

“It tries to kill us,” You hiss back just as furiously. 

“What happened?” He sighs, his long hands back on his all-but-bare hips once more. 

“I touched that stick over there and the thing started screaming at us,” Spider steps out from behind you, pushing your hand, which automatically shoots over his chest protectively, away. 

“What, this one?” The demon lifts the black stick in his hand, holding it up toward Spider. 

Hissing, you try to shove Spider behind you once more, but instead, he bends down and walks through your legs with a whined “Mom,” before walking over to the demon. Distressed, you hiss and yip at him to come back, but he’s too curious about the stick in the demon’s hand. Heart beating rapidly in your chest, you look for anything to use as a weapon against the demon and his warriors, finding nothing. Your breath is coming faster and your sight becomes cloudy at the edges, but before you can do much of anything, you watch as the demon ruffles your son’s hair. 

“Go back to your mother, kid,” He nods toward you, gently pushing Spider back in your direction. With a shaky hand, you reach for your son as he looks up at you.

“What’s wrong, mom?” Spider asks, his voice unsure of what’s going on with you. 

“I’m okay, my love,” You try to reassure him, but you don’t feel all that reassured by your own words. 

“Leave,” The demon grunts, waiting for his unit to leave the room before he sits down against the wall. “Take your time, sweetness,”

Using the wall behind you for support, you slide down to the ground, taking Spider with you. The demon’s sharp eyes are trained on you, once more locking you into whatever this is. You find yourself taking deep breaths before slowly letting it out, repeating the motion until your heart stops racing within your chest. It’s only then that you notice the demon breathing with you, silently guiding you as you slowly calm down. Closing your eyes, you lean your face into Spider’s hair, breathing him in, grounding you. He’s safe. He’s right there in your arms. Unharmed. 

“We good, darling?” The demon drawls, voice raspy and rough. 

Opening your eyes again, you take in how he looks. His body is bare, save for his weird-looking black tweng. He still holds his knife, but the blade is facing away from you. For a second, you wonder why they wear all of their clothes when they obviously have a form of tweng beneath it. Maybe it was an armor?

“Let me make it up to you?” He continues after you give him a slight nod of your head. 

Getting up to his feet, the demon slowly walks over to you, extending his long arm for you to take. Looking at it with distrust, you huff through your nose before getting up on your own. The demon lifts the corner of his mouth before stepping back, giving you space. 

“Come with me and I’ll show you around,” 

You follow after the demon, listening intently as he describes different things inside the room. You especially loved how you could make the room illuminated and dark at will. The waterfall inside the second door, the bathroom, was oddly disappointing once you actually realized what it was. The water didn’t smell right and you quickly decided that you wouldn’t use it, instead cleaning the both of you when you got to go out. 

“This um…” The demon stops beside what he called a sink, a weird look on his face, “This is where you do your business, sweetheart,”

“What business?” You ask him, not really getting why his face turns darker at the word. 

“You know, when you need to relieve yourself,” He mumbles, and then it dawns on you. 

“In there?” You ask him, interest piqued. The sky people sure had weird things.

“When you’re done, you just push this one and it flushes,” The demon continues, face growing darker. Walking out of the small bathroom, you watch as the demon stops before the tv, mumbling something to himself before turning around to look at you.

“Follow me,” He grunts before moving towards the still-open door. 

You follow after him, Spider walking in front of you excited about the new stuff that he had just learned. The demon swipes his hand over the box on the next door, opening it before stepping aside, his arm outstretched to allow you to walk through the door first. The room is sparsely lit, a soft glow coming from a lamp in the corner by the demon’s big nest. His bed was a size bigger than the one in your room, the blankets stretched and neatly tucked into the sides. In the middle of the floor, his discarded clothing lay dumped. Your scream had obviously interrupted him in the middle of taking them off for the night. Stepping up beside you, the demon bends down to collect them, mumbling a gentle “Pardon,” before hanging the clothes on the back of a chair. The room smells so intensely of him that had you not already known that this was the demon’s room, there would be no doubt in your mind about it after scenting the air. 

“This is called a remote control,” He drawls lazily, holding up a black stick identical to the one in your room. “If you press the red button here, the tv will turn on. Now, when you do, the screen will come to life… no that’s not the right words,” 

“The TV shows live images from Earth. Plays, news reports, and so on,” He waits for the words to sink in before continuing. “Let’s try,” 

And with that, he presses the red button on the remote control. The TV does come to life, the screen showing some kind of weird forest landscape. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen before, fascinating in a way you didn’t know. Spider walks forward and you immediately stiffen. You don’t get far however as the demon hurries to lay his hand over the screen, showing you that there’s no danger to it. Slowly, you inch forward after Spider, watching as he too lays his hand on the screen, chuckling uncertainly before mumbling how cold it was. The demon smiles down at him before he looks up into your eyes, nodding his head for you to join them. 

“Come on, mama, it won’t hurt you, I give you my word,” The smile on his face grows warm, his eyes glittering in the light from the TV. 

You inch forward, hand outstretched, and finally touch the screen. It’s like Spider says. The screen is smooth and cold beneath your fingers. You can feel your ears pointing forward with interest as you gently tap it with your fingers, still, it does not react. 

“Why was it screaming? Was it in pain?” You ask, to which the demon chuckles low, a gentle smile on his face. 

“Probably just opened a channel with an action movie or something. Lord knows what Lyle watches at night,” He answers, rubbing the back of his head before stopping, “A movie is like a retelling of a story… or something,”

“Movie,” You mumble to yourself, trying to wrap your mind around what it could be like. 

“Hold on, let me find a movie for y’all,” The demon turns to the TV, pointing the remote control at it. 

The screen changes each time he presses a button on the thing. With wide eyes, you watch as the scenery changes after a few seconds. This continues until suddenly the demon stops with a triumphant “ah”. The TV shows a foreign landscape with sky people on it, a small family with a child. Furry animals, much like your direhorses but with fewer legs, walk around in fenced areas. The sky people wear odd clothing, a different kind from the ones walking around on Pandora. As they walk around inside the screen, you’re unable to look away from it, fascination holding you prisoner. 

Somehow, you end up sitting on the floor, the big nest supporting your back as you stare at the TV. Spider lay in the nest behind you to the right, his head in his hands as he stares with a fascination you haven’t seen in him before. It makes your heart soar in your chest, the warmth spreading to a fond smile on your face, that he’s able to experience this. The demon spares chaste glances at you both, his ears at attention when Spider eventually falls asleep. You just intend to watch a little bit more before getting him to your own nest, but before you know it, you’ve fallen asleep too. 

It’s bright and sunny when you wake up, and you’re so comfortably warm. Stretching, you rub your face into the warm surface, noting how nice and safe it smells. Smiling at Spider’s clinging arms around you, you sigh sleepily, opening your eyes, only to discover that it’s not Spider that’s holding you.  The surface you’ve been sleeping on is blue, the chest broad and warm as the demon breathes beneath your head, his arms wrapped firmly around you as he rests his head on top of yours. Startling, you pull yourself out of his long arms, jumping to your feet, startling him awake in turn. Bleary yellow eyes look up at you before they pop open with alarm, his head turning as he looks around the room, finding nothing to have startled you. And then his eyes widened with realization. 

Spider still sleeps soundly in the nest, his small figure curled up in his - in the demon’s blankets. You’re left staring at each other in silence for a long time, the demon’s face is unreadable, but his ears are pointed at you while his tail moves lazily behind him where he still sits on the floor. The tension is thick enough that Spider eventually wakes up, his eyes just as bleary as the demon’s had been as he looks around his surroundings with confusion. Not breaking eye contact with the demon, you move to sit in the nest. Dearing to look at your son, his beautiful brown eyes look up at you with a slight smile. 

“Good morning, my dearest,” You smile at him, watching as he grins before swatting your hand away when you try to push his hair from his face. 

“Morning, mom,” Spider yawns before stepping out of the warm nest to grab the remote control, effectively turning the TV on again. 

The demon huffs a chuckle and shakes his head as he stands to his feet, excusing himself as he walks into his own bathroom. You can hear the shower running and the demon’s hissed mumbling through the closed door. Given a moment to yourself, you walk over to the see-through metal wall, placing your hand against it. What was happening to you? It wasn’t like you to be this unguarded, especially not while Spider was with you. Yesterday had been a lot, but you couldn’t have been so tired as to just fall asleep like that, especially not leaning up against the demon himself. 

Shaking your head in frustration, you turn to look at your son. He wears a beautiful indulgent smile as he stares at the sky people inside the TV screen. He looks so happy about this new little discovery. The door to the bathroom opens and the demon steps out in his weird tweng. His short hair and queue are wet, but the rest of him is dry. His body is absolutely massive now that you actually have the time to look at him. You keep your eyes trained on him as he walks over to his clothes, applying them one by one as he covers up. A small part of you - a very small part - feels regret at not being able to see his long, strong torso and back anymore, as well as his thickly muscled thighs. It was a shame, really, but you respected the difference between tribes and what they wore. His would be no different. Distantly, you notice that he leaves his booths behind as he walks to the door, stepping out and closing it without looking back. 

You let out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding before sinking down into the nest beside Spider. Plopping back, you stare up at the ceiling before rolling around, curling up in the blanket Spider had used. It’s still warm and smells of him as you wrap it around you. Closing your eyes, you only intend to rest a little from the intense start of the morning, but before you know it, you’re deep asleep again, safely swaddled in a scent that makes you feel protected and loved. 

Chapter 5 | Masterpost | Chapter 7

#miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch #colonel quaritch #colonel miles quaritch #quaritch #recom quaritch #na'vi miles quaritch #avatar quaritch #avatar the way of water #Mech writes #Ma Miles

[storiesforallfandoms]

look at me ~ bo burnham

word count: 2323

request?: yes!

“so you already know that inside: the outtakes has gotten so many people back into their bo thing. me included. sooooo i was thinking, he’s a big guy, ya know👀 so my lil brain was doin some thinkin (not at all while horny) and it came up with this: bo fucking you in front of a mirror!! he’s holding you up, fucking you from behind, saying things like ‘look at how much of a pretty little whore you are for my cock’. just, please please please do your thing and make this something great🥹”

description: after a long day of filming his special, he finds himself pent up and wanting to release his aggressive sexual energy, so he decides to take his girlfriend in the first place he finds her: in the bathroom in front of the mirror

pairing: bo burnham x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut

masterlist (one, two, three)

Bo had a lot of feelings surrounding the filming of his quarantine special. At first he was upset over having to cancel his plans of returning to live performances, but then the idea of filming, editing, directing, lighting, etc., his own special seemed exciting. And getting back into writing comedy felt almost therapeutic. The longer quarantine went on, though, the more his mental health struggled. He was enjoying creating, but he hated that this was how he had to create. And he hated how much he struggled to make everything perfect.

But more than anything, he was unbearably horny. To a point where he was writing extremely horny bits into the special.

It was his own doing really. Bo would spend every day - from the moment he woke up to the moment he fell asleep - working on the special. Most nights, that was late enough that his girlfriend, (Y/N), would be fast asleep. Other nights, he felt too mentally exhausted to try and initiate sex.

He felt guilty for the quality time he was losing with her by working all day, but (Y/N) was incredibly supportive. She would check on him every day to make sure he was doing okay, occasionally bringing him food so he would eat. She’d get him to take little break every now and then before going back to long hours of working on the special. Bo felt extremely grateful to have her in his life. But man, did he ever miss being intimate with her.

He was sat in this guest house one evening, editing his most recent bit, which was a song about sexting. His mind was on (Y/N) as his own voice played through the speakers. He thought about how badly he wanted to hold her, feel her body against his, her warm walls around him. His horniness was definitely trickling into his work and it was something he needed to fix soon or else he felt like he might explode.

Bo stood and looked out the window that faced towards his house. He could see a light on in the room that belonged to him and (Y/N), signaling that she was still awake. He quickly rushed out of his guest house, leaving the unedited song running.

(Y/N) was in the ensuite bathroom getting ready for bed. She had peaked out to the guest house to check on Bo. The lights were off besides a dull blue light that she assumed was Bo editing another bit. She had sighed to herself before going to the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face. As proud as she was of Bo for working on this special all on his own, she really did miss getting to spend time with him. Their bed felt too empty without him.

She was leaned over the sink, washing her face, when she suddenly felt two arms wrap around her. She let out a yelp and stood up quickly to see Bo’s towering figure behind her in the mirror. He buried his head in the crook of her neck, lightly kissing the area, causing her heart to flutter for a different reason.

“Hey,” she said. “You finished up early tonight.”

“I can’t standing being away from you anymore,” he responded. “It’s getting too hard to not have you in my arms.”

“That’s not the only thing that’s hard,” she teased.

Bo chuckled and grinded his hard, clothed dick against her. “You got me there.”

He continued to kiss her neck as he pressed himself against her. She lulled her head to the side, giving him more access to her neck. She closed her eyes and sighed. His hands moved from around her waist, one going upwards to cup one of her breasts and the other moving down between her legs. Her breath hitched as he teased the waistband of her pajama pants.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his hot breath fanning over her ear in a way that sent a shiver down her spine. She nodded in response. “I need to hear you say it, baby.”

“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, please Bo.”

Bo grinned and nibbled on her ear as his hand dipped under her waistband. He ran a finger through her folds, teasing her clit with a feather-light touch.

“You’re already so wet,” he whispered. “Desperate for me to you, baby?”

“Yes,” (Y/N) whimpered. “I’ve missed your touch so much.”

“I’ve missed touching you. You don’t understand how much I’ve missed having you. I think about being inside of you practically every waking moment, and when I’m sleeping too.”

She moaned as he finally applied pressure to her clit. He rubbed slow circles into the bundle of nerves as he continued to kiss over her neck. He nipped at the sensitive skin, leaving red marks in his wake that he really hoped would turn into hickies. There was something so hot to him about marking (Y/N) in a way that other people would see and know she was his. He slipped his hand under her shirt to cup and knead at her breasts, one at a time, making her nipples pop out underneath his fingers.

(Y/N) was a moaning mess; putty in Bo’s hands. He was essentially holding her up at that point as she was leaning back against him, her legs wobbling to a point where she wasn’t sure she could stay up much longer.

“Are you close already?” Bo asked. “I can feel you trembling.”

“I-I’m s-so close,” she said.

“Open your eyes, baby. I want you to look at me while you cum.”

She pried her eyes open to look into the mirror. Bo’s eyes were staring back at her, dark with lust. It was hard to keep them open as her orgasm washed over her. Her legs just about gave out from under her as she cried out. Bo held her, smirking to himself as she trembled in his arms. He whispered praises into her ear as she came down from her high.

“I need you,” he whispered. “Right here, baby, please.”

“The bed is just a few steps away,” she teased.

“I can’t wait. I’m a slight breeze away from cumming in my pants.”

She giggled and turned her head to kiss him. She reached back to run her hands through his long hair. At first, she wasn’t a fan of the idea of Bo growing out his hair and facial hair, but now, with his beard leaving a tickling sensation in its wake and his long hair giving her something to hold on to, she suddenly loved it.

Bo broke away from the kiss to shove (Y/N) down over the bathroom counter. He pulled her pants and underwear down around her ankles, helping her to step out of them and kicking them off to the side. He let his own pants fall to the floor as well, his hard dick springing free from his pants. He took it in one hand and ran it through (Y/N)’s drenched folds, collecting her slick to use as his own lube. (Y/N) bit down on her lip as she whimpered, but couldn’t contain her moans once Bo pushed the head of his dick against her entrance. He easily slid his cock into her, slowly moving inwards until he was buried at the hilt inside of her. He dropped his head against her back, groaning at the sensation. It was a feeling he had been longing for, and now that he had it he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to last.

He slowly pulled himself out halfway before slowly thrusting back into her again. The head of his dick so easily nudged her g-spot that it made her already shaky legs even more wobbly every time he thrust inwards. She held on to the counter, digging her nails into it with such a grip that she thought she was going to break the counter.

Bo kissed over (Y/N)’s neck and what he could reach of her face again. “Can I start fucking you, princess?”

She nodded, unable to speak. Bo took that as enough of an answer for him this time and started thrusting into her at a quicker speed. He held on to her hips as he slammed into her, the sound of their skin slapping together filling the room. (Y/N)’s mind went blank, the only thing she could think of being Bo, Bo, Bo! She cried out his name, a sound more beautiful than any song Bo had ever heard.

“I might not last long,” he told her. “Do you think you can give me one more before I shoot this hot load inside you, baby?”

“Yes!” she cried. “Yes, yes, yes.”

It became a chant, like that was the only word she knew.

Bo smiled and put his hand around her throat, pulling her up so that she was flush against his chest. He continued thrusting at his brutal pace while reaching his other hand between her legs to rub her clit again.

“Look at how much of a pretty little whore you are for my cock,” he said. “God, you look so fucking hot, falling apart for me like this.”

Her eyes were rolling in the back of her head, which clearly was not what Bo wanted. He squeezed her throat slightly, just enough to block her airways and make her lightheaded.

“I said look at me,” he growled into her ear. She opened her eyes and looked into the mirror. He smiled at her. “Good girl. Look how fucking good you look, all cock drunk for me like this.”

Her eyes were hooded, threatening to close again, and her mouth was in a permanent “O” shape as her body bounced with every thrust. Bo looked like a man on a mission, watching her face intently as he rubbed ruthlessly at her clit and thrusted hard into her. He took his bottom lip between his teeth, a sight which just drove her further over the edge.

She didn’t have to tell him this time that she was close. Actually, she didn’t even have time to tell him. Her second orgasm hit her quickly and intensely. Her vision clouded for a moment and her entire body felt heavy. Bo wrapped an arm around her lower stomach, keeping her up for his last few thrusts before he also hit his own climax. He buried his head in her neck again, muffled groans tumbling from his lips as he gave a few more shallow thrusts.

They were both panting and sticky with sweat once they finally started coming down from their highs. Bo was reluctant to pull out, but he could feel himself becoming soft and slipping from between her legs. (Y/N) gasped as she felt the hot trail of cum running down her legs.

“Let me clean you up so you can finally lay down,” Bo said.

He reached past her to grab the face cloth she had been using early and ran warm water over it again. Turned her so she was facing him and knelt down in front of her to wipe her legs and between them. He planted a kiss on both of her inner thighs, causing her to twitch a little from overstimulation. When he stood again, he discarded the cloth onto the floor and took (Y/N) into his arms. She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck as he carried her to bed.

He laid her down first before crawling into bed next to her. He took her into his arms, reveling in the feeling of her warm body against his. It had been so long since they had been able to fall asleep together. He rarely tried to cuddle her when he came into bed after she had fallen asleep in fear that he would wake her.

“Are you done working for the night then?” (Y/N) asked, her voice soft and sheepish.

“Definitely,” he decided. “This takes so much more precipitant than working on that stupid special.”

“Hey, it’s not stupid. I think it’s going to be really good.”

Bo chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “You haven’t even seen any of it.”

“I saw that one that was a parody of Drake’s music.”

“Eh, I’m thinking of cutting that one. I don’t even like it all that much.”

“Don’t do that! It’s my favorite one!”

He squeezed her slightly and kissed her again. “Okay, no promises, but I’ll try my best to put it in.”

“Thank you.”

They laid in silence for a while. It was quite comforting. Bo never wanted to leave the bed. He just wanted to hold (Y/N) and lay here in the dark and silence.

“I miss this,” (Y/N) whispered into the silence.

Bo sighed. “Me too. I promise I’ll try not to work too late so that we can have these moments more often. And I promise I’ll try to finish the special soon so that I’m not working on it at all anymore.”

“You don’t have to finish it soon if you don’t feel it’s ready, but I would prefer it if you were here in bed with me when I fell asleep at night. It’s not the same to fall asleep in a lonely bed all by myself.”

“I promise. Now get some sleep. I can tell you’re fighting off the unconsciousness.”

(Y/N) shook her head and smiled to herself. Of course he was right, she felt exhausted now after their bathroom activities. Being curled in his warm embrace didn’t help that matter either. She settled herself next to him and closed her eyes, letting the sleep take hold of her. Bo wasn’t too far behind, placing one last kiss on the top of her head before closing his eyes and letting himself drift off to sleep.

#bo burnham #bo burnham imagine #bo burnham x reader #bo burnham smut #imagine #one shot #request #smut #rpf #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

[carolmunson]

once bitten, twice shy (pbv!steve x f!thick reader)

finally, we made it. been writing this since october with breaks in between. if you're new to the pbv!steve universe (which is just an incredibly wealthy big money version of steve), i'd recommend reading 'peanut butter vibe' first.

here, steve invites his thick hottie bestie (you, who we're calling natalie because i HATE 'y/n') to his office holiday party. this fic has everything: sugardaddy!steve, casual dominance, office sex, unrequited love, some guy named rob -- anyway, enjoy. warnings/content prev: piv sex (protected), fingering/oral (f receiving), mentions of oral (m receiving) some angst/unrequited feelings, casual dominance, light spanking, office sex, sort of a 'boss' kink?? idk what to call it, rich people behavior, snide comments about thick!reader but not really about her body, some body descriptions but nothing wild, mentions of clothing sizes, lots of fluff, steve is a hot hot hottie throughout. little christmas light dividers by @newlips

“Is it fancy?” you ask, “I don’t really have anything to wear to a cocktail party.”

“Is it fancy?” you ask, “I don’t really have anything to wear to a cocktail party.”

“Is it fancy?” you ask, “I don’t really have anything to wear to a cocktail party.”

“I’ll take you to get something tomorrow,” he insists.

“I can buy my own dress, Steve,” you sigh, he can hear the eye roll through the phone.

“Yeah, yeah, everyone in Indiana knows you can buy your own dress, Manhattan, we get it,” Steve’s eye roll is even more audible than yours, “But you only have to get one because I’m asking you to come to this party. Let me get it for you.”

“Steve,” you scold, “No.”

“I have to finish shopping anyway — don’t you still have to finish getting gifts for your niece? We can go to the mall, two birds one stone!” he quickly adds. He hopes the thought of your niece’s tiny toes in some new little socks or a cute little outfit will soften you up.

“The mall is going to be a mess, Steve. It’s the weekend before Christmas,” you complain.

“We can go to a boutique or something,” he counters, determined to get you in a dress so you had no reason not to go to this party.

“Boutiques in Indiana aren’t making dresses for girls like me, Harrington,” you laugh, he doesn’t. He’s quiet for a moment until you hear his signature aggravated sigh come through the ear piece.

“You can just say you don’t wanna come,” his voice sounds slightly sullen, “Just wanted to show you the office, since you won’t get a chance to see it after I move.”

“It’s not that I don’t wanna come, Steve,” you say softly, “It’s just..it’s what it implies.”

“It doesn’t have to imply anything! Can’t you just come have fun with me? It’ll be so fun, I promise!” there’s a mild whine to his claim and you have to stifle a laugh.

Breaking News in Indiana: Poor little rich boy wants his big booty Barbie to play with at a party — throws minor tantrum when he might not get what he wants! "Fine, fine, Jesus Christ," you tease, "You're so annoying when you get whiny."

"So I'll pick you up in the morning? Is nine okay?" he asks, voice back to his regular charm. "Yeah, that's fine," you start, "Wait, we're not taking the Porsche to the mall, are we?" "Uh, yeah?" he replies, confused, "Did you want me to take a different car?" "Ugh, Steve that's so tooly," you moan, "You're such a tool."

"I'm about to uninvite you," he huffs, "Do you want me to buy you something pretty tomorrow or--" "I can buy my own dress," you yell over him. He lets out another aggravated sigh. "Tomorrow, nine, in the Porsche," he says finally, you hear the click of the dial tone as soon as he finishes speaking.

The Porsche rolls up at 8:58 and he knows better than to honk the horn, lest he wake your sister's newborn. Instead, he parks and walks up to the porch of your sister's house; knocking on the door and waiting for you with his hands clasped behind his back. When the door opens, he's surprised to see your mom behind it. She smiles, big and warm. She looks familiar, definitely a face in the stands at basketball games because your older sister Carly was a cheerleader. She was a senior when you were both freshman, before Steve was King Steve. "Oh, hi. You must be Steven," she whispers, when the door opens further he spots your little niece propped up high on your mom's chest, "I'm Maureen. Come in, come in. S'way too cold to be standing out here." "Thanks, thank you," he smiles, the kind of smile that makes mom's melt. Steve takes a step inside and your mom steps back, patting the baby's back to burp her. He wipes his shoes on the welcome mat and undoes the buttons on his Hugo Boss wool coat. His cashmere scarf hung loosely over his shoulders down his chest. "I've heard so much about you. Nat should be out in a second," heat blooming in her cheeks, "Make yourself comfortable." Maureen disappears into the kitchen but he can hear the gurgles of your niece and your mom's little titters to her. He leans on the back of the couch, the house smells like you and his heart swells. So this is what it looks like when you go inside after he drops you off. This is where you go when you're not with him. It feels like a secret he's not supposed to know. "Oh, hi, you're in my house," his eyes snap up when he hears your voice. His teeth shine through his smile, he waves with a leather gloved hand. "Good morning," he says, his voice is low and warm. Your heartrate speeds up when he says it. It's awkward when you walk up to him, unsure if you should hug or kiss on the cheek. It's normally never awkward, but you're always meeting at the bar or in his car. He's never been so...available at the first greeting. You don't want to kiss in front of your mom because then she'll have questions. She already asks too many about Steve to begin with. He scans you, your white sweater and jeans, square toe brown boots on your feet. You reach for a black parka on the coat rack and a scarf that he recognizes as a polyblend. He makes a mental note to get you a cashmere one when you're not paying attention. "Good morning," you reply, shrugging the coat on and tossing the scarf around your neck sloppily. He walks towards you, tutting while he does, reaching out to flip your hair out from under the scarf. He readjusts the material so it lays neater against you, tucked in and under the jacket so you actually stay warm. "Gonna freeze if you don't wear it right," he sing songs, shaking his head while he works. "Okay dad," you roll your eyes, swatting his hands away when he goes to zip up your coat, "I can do it." You don't zip your parka up, instead you peek your head into the kitchen and whisper a quick goodbye to your mom and your niece. Maureen appears with the baby again and says a motherly goodbye and 'Merry Christmas' to Steve. "It's very nice to finally meet you, Maureen," he almost flirts, "Have a Merry Christmas." She winks at you when he turns towards the door, mouthing a very enthusiastic 'He's cute.'

You have half a mind to say, 'Yeah, he knows. That's what's so infuriating.' But you think it, instead. You opt to mouth a simple 'Stop,' at her before following him outside towards the car. "You're mom's so sweet," he says when he gets to the side walk from your porch, hand immediately coming out to support you down the icy steps, "Careful." "There's a railing," you explain, using him for support, "It's there so I don't fall." "Well, you're holding my hand anyway, so," he shrugs. You bristle at his coolness, always so slick even when it's innocent. He's so hateable, it's almost unfair how excited he makes you. "As I was saying," he starts again when you make it to the end of the stairs, "Your mom's so nice." "Maureen? Yeah, she's a sweetie," you agree when you get the passenger door. He reaches past you to open it, and in doing so has you chest to chest with him. He lingers there for a moment, looking at you down the slope of his nose. He cocks his head, eyes a little hard, lips pulling into a smirk. "So what happened to you, then?" he teases, lips dangerously close to yours. You catch your mom peaking out of the living room window and sink down into the open door onto the leather seat. "Shut up," you huff, "You're not funny." "I'm so funny," he corrects, shutting the door, appearing on the drivers side moments later. "The stores don't open for at least an hour," you say, buckling into the seat, "Why'd you wanna leave so early?" "Thought we could get breakfast first," he shrugs, looking your over in the passengers side. He bites his lip, eyes flitting from your thighs to your face, "You look nice."

"It's nine in the morning Harrington, keep it in your pants," you shove his shoulder and he grins while he puts his attention back on the road, pulling forward away from the sidewalk. "It's 9:07 actually," he says, aloof, hand resting on your inner thigh once he had his bearings on the road infront of him, "You're so warm." "Perks of big thighs, I guess," you shrug, "You're wearing gloves though, I think that helps." "Nah, your thighs are just warm," he grins again, "Haven't had to buy ear muffs for the last five years cause'a them."

"You're so gross," you turn to him as you say it, exasperated. The car rolls to a stop at a redlight and he turns to look at you. "I'm so gross, huh?" he asks, leaning in. His hand floating from your thigh to under your chin. The leather is smooth on your skin, you can smell his cologne as he moves closer, "S'that why you want me to kiss you so bad?" "I think you wanna kiss me so bad," you tease back. His lips catch yours, fingers gently wrapping around your jaw as they do. The leather sinks into your full cheeks, flush from the cold and the way his mouth fits against yours. His nose bumps your cheek and your ungloved hand finds his, you can feel the smoothness from his shave this morning. Smell his moisturizer, his shaving cream. Taste the mint from his mouth wash in your mouth. A soft hum leaks from your chest and you feel him smile into the kiss before he breaks away, the light turning green against the white cloudy sky. "You're right, I did wanna kiss you so bad," he admits. His hand falls right back on your thigh, hitting the gas to pull onto the highway.

You'd been at it for a couple of hours now, store after store, the mall littered with families and screaming children. "We can go to the west wing. I don't know why you keep avoiding it," he chides. He puts all the shopping bags you've both already accumulated into the hand furthest from you, offering you the empty one. You take it, your other hand empty since he wouldn't let you carry your own bags. "That's the nice part of the mall," you say, "I don't want to spend that much on a dress for one night."

"Then it's a good thing you're not spending any money on it," he smiles. "Steven," you chide, "Enough, pl--" "Don't use that voice with me. I told you a thousand times I want to get you something pretty. So we're getting you something pretty," he urges, "Let's go." The west wing has all the fancy stores in it. Luxury brands, far stretches from Kay Jewelers and JC Penney. You aren't sure if they even carry your size in stores like this, but maybe you'll be surprised. It's not long before he has you in a dressing room, working with the attendants and tossing dress after dress in behind the curtain. Steve sits on one of the waiting area couches with the rest of the men. Your purse and coat is on his lap, the shopping bags resting between his feet. You poke your head out after the fourth dress, looking for an attendant but they're all busy. He notices your nervous face and waves to get your attention. "Need help?" he asks. You flush. "Can you get this zipper for me? It's not a side zipper so I can't reach," you ask. He nods, slinging your purse over himself with the cross body strap, asking the guy next to him to watch the bags with a quick 'Would you mind, chief? Thanks a million.' He comes up to the curtain and sees the front of the dress, red bursting to his cheeks, tinging his ears, "Good fucking lord." "Oh stop it," you blush back. You turn around and zips up the dress, some resistance meeting at the top. You walk closer to the mirror and inspect yourself, scrunching your face at your reflecting. "You don't like it?" he asks with a frown. "It's just not me," you shrug, "It's a little tight, and I don't want to be thinking about that the whole time, y'know?"

He nods, looking over his shoulder to see a dress on the 'put away' rack, dark green and off the shoulder. The style a mix between Herve Leger and vintage Dior. "Ma'am," he calls out when he sees an attendant walk by, "Would you mind pulling that dress for me? The green one?" She scans her hand over the rack and points at it, reading out the size. "That's perfect, actually," he smiles, that winning Harrington smile that makes the girls melt, "Thank you." "You're very welcome," she says sweetly, posture straightening when she brings it over. You peak back out and he turns you around to start the zipper down on the number you'd just tried on. "You look so good in green, try this one," he says, passing it to you, "Very Hawkins High." You hold it up in front of you and consider, it's a bodycon but still somehow classic looking. A velvet piece that you wouldn't have picked out yourself. "Hm, okay, I'll try it," you say, turning to him with a furrowed brow, "Now get out, perv." He smiles, closing the curtain carefully and retreating back to the couches, "Thanks for watching the bags, man." The guy smiles, "Us husbands gotta look out for each other, right?"

Steve bites his lip in a toothy grin, nodding, "Yeah, for sure."

"How long you been married?" he asked. "Few years," he lies, it's fun to lie when people have asked about you before. He'd get comments every now and again at Porter's, have chats with bar stoll warmers about you like you'd been together forever. "Few years? You look like babies," he laughs, the gray smattered in the man's hair shines in the pristine white lights of the store. "When you know, you know," Steve shrugs. The man nods, "They do say that, don't they? Well, I'll give ya a little advice. Fifteen years down the line, here -- they aren't lying when they say 'happy wife, happy life'. So just, y'know, do whatever she says and you're golden." "Great advice, honey," a woman's voice coo's above them. Steve sees her Vivienne Westwood shoes first, head tilting up to see a very expensive woman in front of him. She has a few dresses in her hand that he immediately stands up and takes from her. "Merry Christmas, kid," he says while they head out, the wife nods toward Steve in acknowledgement and he gives them a small wave. "Oh Steve, this is it, this is the one," you say, stepping out of the dressing room with the dress in your arm, the 'no's' in the other. His shoulders slump, "You didn't even let me see it."

"It'll be a surprise. You'll see it tomorrow night," you smile. He instinctively gets up and takes the dresses you don't want to hang up them for you on the rack. You exchange them for your purse and jacket, scarf previously abandoned in a shopping bag. "You all set to go? You have any other shopping you wanna do?" you ask.

"Hmm," he thinks, "Let's stop by jewelry first."

"Something for your mom?" you ask, putting your parka back on. "Something for you," he says, "To go with that dress."

"No, no, I have jewelry at home. I'll ask my mom if I can borrow something," you wave your hand off at him while you walk out of the dressing area and back into the store together. "Hey, hey," he shushes you, raising his neck to look into your eyes, "Let me spoil you a little, okay?"

"You already got me a new scarf and gloves," you say earnestly, "It's too much, Steve."

"You needed a new scarf and gloves," he says knowingly, "Let's get you a necklace to go with that dress, hm? You need shoes, too?" "I'm drawing the line at shoes," you warn, putting your purse over yourself while you walk through the beauty section, "I brought plenty of shoes with me."

He shrugs, "Suit yourelf."

Monday night comes quicker than expected, but you'd stayed the night at Steve's after shopping, only to wake up in the late morning with him the next day. You'd been up late fucking mercilessly wrapping gifts with each other, teaching him how to curl ribbon, watching him fold wrapping paper with obscene precision. The only reason you went home is because he had to go into the office to finish up some reports. You arrive around seven-thirty, a little late but still there, heels clicking on the marble floor of the lobby -- and there he is, waiting for you behind the turnstyles to the elevators -- suit jacket fitting him almost criminally.

"Fashionably late?" he teases, opening the side gate to let you through to him, "Everyone thinks my date stood me up."

"Oh, I'm sure your secretary will be so disappointed to know I'm here," you joke back.

"I don't fuck my secretary," he shakes his head, hitting the call button, "I fuck Rob's secretary. God, do you ever listen to me when I talk?"

Rob, Steve's work nemesis.

"Oh forgive me, there's so only many office flings I can keep up with," you say, stepping into the elevator. You take off your scarf from under your coat, revealing the necklace Steve bought you at the mall. He smiles to himself, seeing your adorned by his gifts. The scarf, the necklace, the gloves. He's excited to see the dress, it's all he thought about today. When you get the floor of the party, you wince a bit at the noise. It's rowdy, a lot of the men are already drunk. And boy is it, fancy. Men in suits, women is cocktail dresses in sky-high heels, hair in big blowouts with glowing gold and silver jewelry. You're suddenly thankful for the necklace Steve bought you. You'd been around your fair share of fancy in New York, but never really living it outside of your own work holiday parties. Sometimes you forget that this is Steve's day to day. "The actual offices are the next floors up, this is just our meeting hall. They really go all out, huh?" he smiles, "Let me bring you to coat check." On the walk to coat check you scan the room, it's decked out in gold and red. Ten foot Christmas trees sit in every corner, draped in garland, ribbon, and tinsel. Lights leaving a soft glow out of the floor to ceiling windows of the room. Intricately placed curtains of warm white christmas lights hang from the ceiling, dress the walls and windows. The room is a halo, glowing and warm. In the center of the room is the open dance floor, flanked by tables covered in white cloths -- drinks already littering them. Speakers boom top 40 and Christmas music, chatter and laughter booms over it.

"Here, let me get it," he says when you reach the coat check area, a little set up of a few racks with a sweet woman at a table, writing out tickets for you to keep track of for the end of the night. He undoes the buttons of your coat and you shrug it off slowly. His eyes round and he gulps, mouth going dry at the sight of you.

"Jesus Christ," he breathes out, pulling your coat back over you, "You can't be serious rigt now."

"What?" you ask, suddenly self concious, "Does it look bad?"

"No, oh my god, no, it's..." he pulls your coat away again and sucks in a sharp intake of breath, "If I knew you were gonna look like this, I wouldn't have let you wear it here. Can't have everyone looking at you when you're here with me."

He looks you over, the way your breasts sit in the sweetheart neckline, how tightly it clings to your curves, the shape of your hipes, the outline of your belly in the fabric. He licks his lips, knowing he's not strong enough to see you from the back just yet.

"God damn," he shakes his head, "You're gonna kill me." "Well, you look very handsome too," the compliment is genuine but it doesn't register for him. He's busy looking at your glossed lips, the necklace places perfectly above your chest, the smell of your perfume. He licks his lips and your words finally hit him, so does the feeling of the fabric of your coat in his hands. "Th-thank you," he smiles, "Thanks." He checks your jacket and gives the lady at the table a $20 even though the coat check is free. Waiters walk around with hor d'ourves and drinks and he reaches for the champagne flutes, nodding to you to see if you want one. "It's kind of chilly, is there coffee or anything?" you ask, running your hands over your arms. "There's hot toddy's," he says, "They're by the bar but you don't like whiskey."

"I can pretend to like it for right now," you smile, he smiles back, placing his champagne flute on a table that he'd been sat at earlier, your name card placed on the seat next to him. He takes your hand and leads you to the bar, running his own hands over arms to warm you up while you wait behind a small line of people.

"This is pretty," you tell him, "Looks like everyone is having a good time."

"Half of these guys have been drinking since four," he laughs a little, "I'd hope they're having a good time."

"Oh, Harrington, is this her?" you hear a gruff voice ask. Steve's arm sling protectively around your waist at the sound. "This is she," he says back, he presents you like a trophy to him. His best Vanna White while he scans a hand over you to show you off. "Rob Delaney," he smiles, a smile that rivals Steve's, and offers his hand. He is devilishly handsome, no wonder Steve hates him so much, "You must be the girl that's got Harrington running to the big city."

"I think it's the pay raise that has him running to the big city, but thank you," you giggle, shaking his hand. It's a firm shake, a businessman's shake. You feel the chill of his gold pinky ring brush against your skin. "Pretty thing like you got a name?" he flirts, you feel Steve pull you closer, his hand splaying at the curve of your waist. Your face heats up at the feeling, knowing he doesn't like sharing you even though you weren't his to begin with. "Natalie," you smile. "Natalie," he repeats, giving you a once over, "Pretty name for a pretty girl." "Well, thank you," you say politely, letting go of his hand. He puts his own in his pants pocket, smiling at the both of you. "It's nice to meet you. Save me a dance, will ya?" he smirks when he asks.

"Don't know how free I'll be for a dance, Delaney," Steve replies with a tight voice, ffingers digging into the velvet of your dress, "She's kinda got me tied up all night. Maybe next time." Rob nods, biting back at snicker before walking away with his drink. "See, angel, this dress is dangerous," Steve says in your ear, you hold back from having your eyes roll back in your head at the feeling of his voice in your chest. He orders your hot toddy and a whiskey on the rocks for himself, you nurse it slowly back to the table -- the drink is strong and the food here is light. You feel lucky you ate dinner before you left or else this night would've been ten times more dangerous than the dress you were wearing.

An hour and two hot toddies later and you're chatty at the table with Steve's work friends. He glows while he watches you, the way you are able to blend in so seamlessly with everything. Like you've known these people longer than he has.

"And so I'm still on the phone after he puts me on hold for thirty minutes," you continue through gasps and giggles, the whole table is crying with laughter, "And -- and he comes back and is like, "Oh ma'am, I'm so sorry. Did you say L'Oreal? I thought this was the Oriole's marketing office!"

The table erupts in laughter, feet stomping, glasses clinking while men bang on the table. The women dab tears away with their napkins. Business talk, business jokes. Two big kids in their parents clothes again, at a fancy office party that they don't need to go to.

"Oh god," Steve's co-worker says, face red with liquor and laughter, "That is fuckin' marketing for you. I'm gonna go get a drink, you all want another round?" The group at the table nods, but Steve waves off a no for both of you. 'Last Christmas' flows through the speakers and some people have found their way to the dance floor. He takes the hand resting on your lap and gives it a light squeeze to get your attention. "Hey," you say, turning towards him.

"Hey," he says back, thumb brushing your skin, "You wanna dance with me?" You blush, nodding when he stands up. He's almost too charming, who are you to say no to him.

“Happy Christmas, I wrapped it up and sent it — with a note saying I loved you, I meant it —” Steve mouthed along with the words dramatically, guiding you to the dance floor on gliding backwards feet. His hips swayed expertly — surprising since he didn’t strike you as much of a dancer. You saw him at many a homecoming dance, he was not incredibly impressive in the 80s.

“Now I know, what a fool I’ve been, but if you kiss me now, I know you’d fool me again,” he sings along softly while he pulls you into him. His hand presses against your lower back until you’re chest to chest, hips against his hips, holding your other hand outside the both of you. Your face burns in the low light, noticing the other couples on the dance floor — women with engagement rings and wedding bands, women introduced as ‘my girlfriend _____’ who would be fiancés soon.

“When did you get so good at dancing?” you ask, looking up at him.

“This year to save me from tears — been going to a lot of weddings — give it to someone special,” he explained through his soft singing, “Got good at dancing so I could pick up bridesmaids. What about you?”

You scoff at his answer before answering yourself, "I was always a good dancer, Steve."

"How was I supposed to know?" he shrugged. Hair falls in his face when he leans forward to brush his nose against yours, his tell that he wants to kiss you.

"Should've danced with you at prom," he mumbles, resting his forehead down on yours.

"I didn't go to prom," you smile, moving your head on his chest, "Wasn't really my thing." His hand travels from your lower back to just below your shoulder blades, holding you while you both sway in time with the music.

"What'd you do instead?" he asks, you can't help but giggle and he can feel it in his chest.

"Ugh, it's embarrassing," your face burns while you nuzzle into the lapel of his jacket.

"It was years ago, c'mon," he urges, “Tell me.”

You look up at him and scrunch your nose, “I let Eddie Munson take my V-card that night.”

Steve gasps, you want to punch him in his perfect teeth.

“Right on his stained mattress at his uncle's,” you laugh and scrunch your nose harder.

“Oh, no…” he laughs, a twinge of jealously plucks in his chest, “Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson?”

“I mean he was a different kind of freak for me,” you shrug and Steve presses you even closer, feeling your breats and tummy squish against him. Warm and soft.

“Any good?” he asks, trying to make it casual. But even if it was so long ago, he had to know. "Good for seventeen," you shrugged, "And eighteen, and nineteen, and twenty. Then Corrded Coffin took off and he left."

"So you kept fucking him when you'd come back for breaks?" he laughs.

"It's a long winter break, Harrington," you explained, "I had a life before you, y'know."

"Yeah, but, was it a good one?" he squints when he asks, so you know he's joking. You roll your eyes at him, anyway. While George Michael wails, Steve can't help himself while looking at you in the low light. His body so close to yours he could barely breathe correctly. His hand skates up the the top of your back to your neck, pulling you in for a kiss that only both of your lips understand. Sharing secrets with eachother through clicks of spit, soft breaths, and swipes of tongue. If it weren't for the hot toddies, you'd never let him kiss you like this with people around. When you break away, he's breathless. "You look so good tonight," he confesses, the hand holding yours leaving to meet your cheek, "Can't stop lookin' at you." "Well thank you for the dress," you smile, "It's all you."

"Fits you like a glove," he smirks, "No lines or anything."

You blush but he can't tell, "Well I'm not wearing anything under this so that's why."

Steve chokes, sputtering, astounded at how you can say that to him so casually. The whole time he's had his hands on you, it's only been this flimsy velvet fabric keeping him from feeling your skin. All night you've been naked under this -- and you're just telling him now?

"Uh -- um," his voice cracks, "Do you uh, um, you wanna see my -- um, my office?" "I don't know, is it interesting?" you ask with a laugh. His hands skate down to your ass, the whiskey in your system tells you its okay when he lets his palms roam the mass of it. "Can make it so interesting for you," he says, lips brushing yours, "So, so interesting."

His hands and lips are on you the moment you step into the elevator and the doors close. His tongue runs a flat stripe over your collar bone, over the twenty four karat gold chain around your neck, following your jugular until he gets to your job.

"Your quarterly review came in," he murmurs in your ear, hand skating up your dress to tease you. Fingers brushing over your inner thighs, creeping slowly upward while you whine, "It's abysmal."

The doors ding open and he pulls you by the hand down the hall to the corner office. The windows show off the Indianapolis skyline, buildings glittering from floor to ceiling. There were packing boxes littered around, leather chairs and a couch cross from his desk for meetings. A bar cart left abandon in the corner with a large oak desk in the center. "Abysmal?" you reply innocently while he shuts the door behind you, "Does that mean I'm gonna get fired?"

He finally gets a good view of you from behind and bites his fist bringing the other hand down hard with a loud CRACK! against your ass. He smirks to himself with you yelp. "It might," Steve sinks down into the chair behind his desk, beckoning you over with a finger.

“Wanna keep your job?” he asks with a sly smirk, the authority building in his chest.

“Yes, Mr. Harrington," you playfully whisper. "Then show me," he sighs, reaching for his belt. The clink of the metal on the buckle being undone sent a shiver through you. He stayed relaxed in his office chair, pulling out his length to pump it lazily in his fist.

"Don't be such a tease," he scolds while you stand there, gaping at his cock, feeling behind you to twist the lock on the door.

"Steve! You can't just -- you're at work!" you gasp, eyebrows raised in genuine surprise.

"You just locked the door," he shrugged, "They're all downstairs, c'mon just -- please, come suck my dick. It's already out."

“You’re insane,” you laugh, “We have to go back out there eventually, Harrington.”

“I promise I won’t mess up your makeup,” he pleads, a soft grunt escaping his lips while he quickens his pace on his cock.

“So, I suck your dick,” you start, walking slowly back towards his desk, “And what do I get?”

“Baby, in that dress, you can have anything you want,” he gasps as he runs his thumb over his leaking tip, watching your hips sway while you continuing your slow strut toward him.

“Want me to fuck you instead?” he asks, “God, fuck, bend over the desk. I’ll fuckin’ give it to you.”

“Very forward, Mr. Harrington,” you coo, slowly reaching for the hem of your dress, “Can I keep my job if I let you fuck me?” "Keep your job?" he pants while you bend over in front of him, hem slowly rising over your thighs, "Give you the whole--whole fucking c-company." Your dress slips over the curve of your ass, legs taught and flexed while balancing your weight on your tall heels.

"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck," he whispers while he stands, still fucking his fist while he does it, "Your body's just...shit, you're so...I wish you could see how you look."

He clumsily reaches for the middle drawers on the side of his desk, hastily fishing into a half empty box of condoms. You can't stifle the laugh that bubbles out of your chest, "How many people are you fucking in here, Steve?"

"Shh, just shut up," he huffs while he quickly works the latex over his shaft. "Well excuse me," you murmur, bracing yourself while he puts one hand on your hip. The other dips between your legs, pressing against your entrance. "You nice and wet for me?" he asks gently, soaking his fingers in his mouth and coating your opening with a mix of your slick and his spit. "Y-yeah," you say breathily, rocking back onto his hand. Steve smirks, feeling your walls puff and twitch as his touch. You feel his length slide between your thighs, hand guiding his tip to drag across your folds, parting them as he pushes in just an inch or two. You hiss at the intrustion, you were wet but not relaxed. The let downs of not having enough time for foreplay. He runs a calming hand down your back over your dress. "Sorry, I'm sorry," he soothes, "I'll go slow." You feel his hips slowly pull out and push in again, coaxing your walls to start accomdating him. You part your legs a little, the arch in your back matching the porn stars in 'SLUTS AND CEOS XXX' videos you were sure Steve had seen before. Slickness builds between your legs while he pushes his hips in and out again, more and more of his length getting sucked in. You hear him groan when it gets all the way to the hilt.

"So tight..." he grumbles. It was almost uncomfortable for him, he knew you were turned on enough, "You feeling okay?"

"Yeah, sort of," you nod, wincing, "Hurts a little."

"Sorry," he apologizes again while running a hand through his hair, "Lemme...hm..." You hiss again when he pulls out, looking back to see him get to his knees while his hands grip your thighs. Steve just goes for it. His tongue immedately making contact with your entrance. "Steve, oh..." your eyes roll back when he parts your lips with his thumbs, tongue gliding forward to your clit while his fingers find home inside of you. "There we go," he chuckles darkly, "Did she just need a little somethin' extra from me?" "Oh, shit, that's so good," you whisper, covering your mouth to stop your whimpers escaping from under his office door. His fingers pumped like pistons inside of you, teasing your g-spot just enough to get you dripping down your thighs. "Think it'll be okay now?" he asks, his hand meeting your hip while he gets back to full height. "Mhm," you gulp when you feel his head push in, and then the rest of him. Much easier this time around. "Fuuuuck, me," he groans, his hips rolling in steady thrusts against you. You cover your mouth harder, moans caught in your throat, in your palm, threatening to ricochet of the high ceilings of his office. "Better, baby? That feel good?" he asks, his voice clouded behind breathy grunts. You were still tighter than normal, and while that was great, he'd fucked you enough times to know when something wasn't working. "Really good, Steve," you whine through gritted teeth. His speed picks up, the skin of his thighs clapping loudly against the backs of yours. Steve's thrusts are shallow, hitting deeper and deeper until you're on the toes of your heels. "Look--oh fucking fuck--Look back at me," he pleads, "Wanna see you." You oblige and he sighs at the sight of you, reaching forward to move your hair away from you, "So pretty for me."

Steve never looked at the girls he was fucking in his office. It was always just to get off, to feel good after a rough meeting. To let off some steam after his underlings fucked up yet another sale. New secretaries, mail girls, office assistants, you name it -- all he had to do is wink and they'd be bent over his desk by lunch. "I'm close," he admits with a blush, "S'just...mmm fuck, s'what you do to me." "That's okay," you smile, his hand reaching forward again to touch your face. "Been hard since you fuckin'--oh shit, Christ--since you got here," his brows are furrowed while he watches you. Swollen wet lips letting out soft moans while he pumps into you. God, he'd do anything to keep you like this -- wet and ready for him. You catch his hand, pressing kisses to his fingertips, eyeing him mischeviously while you do it.

"D-don't, you're gonna m-make me---" he warns, another groan taking over while you slip his first and middle finger into your mouth. Sucking expertly, your lipstick smearing on his knuckles. "J-just need s-something in your mouth, hm?" his face contorts, brows furrowing while he clamps his eyes down. Whatever authority he had in his voice falls into boyish whines when your tongue swirls between his fingers. It's a sensation he didn't know he'd like so much, having his fingers sucked on while he was buried inside you. Something about the warm wetness of your mouth. The dirtiness of it. The way you'd wink at him while you did. He took his fingers out with a sharp inhale of breath, trying to stave off his orgasm. Instead, he uses them to wrench your hair back, your chest arching off the desk. The sound of your cry would definitely be heard a few doors down if anyone else was around. You involuntarily clench down on him, gushing. "Oh I see, you want me to be a little mean?" he asks against your neck, open palm coming down against your ass again, "Put you in your place?"

"In my p-place? Please. I thought I was getting the whole c-company?" you ask slyly, turning back to face him against the hold in your hair, "Isn't that what you promised...?"

You raise your eyebrows at him, mocking his own approach to the edge, mouth gaping. "Isn't that what you p-promised, Mr. Harrington?"

He gasps, hips stuttering while his grip in your hair slacks and clutches your shoulder. Gutteral groans flow from his throat, a string of expletives pour from his mouth. Gasps of phrases like, "My little office whore...fucking Jesus, my perfect girl...Pretty -- oh god -- pretty baby..." Steve slows his thrusts to nothing, heaving his breaths until they steady and leaning forward to rest his forehead on your back. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, "You didn't..." "I didn't," you shake your head, "But it's okay."

"It's not okay," he says while pulling out, carefully removing the condom and tossing it in the trash can under his desk. "Gross, Steve," you admonish, standing up. You adjust your dress while turning to face him and he frowns, "Someone has to clean that up."

"Don't put your dress down, let me --" he reaches for the hem, but you stop him.

"Steve, it's fine. We have to go back downstairs, they're gonna know you're missing," you smile while you say it, "They're loving you down there."

"I'll make it up to you later," he promises, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, "Wake up all the neighbors when we get home tonight."

"Whatever you say, Harrington," you roll your eyes while you get to the door, clicking the lock. You both make your way to the bathroom when you leave his office, making quick work of cleaning up. He waits for you against the wall across from the door, your purse in his hand. "Hi," he smiles, when you exit, "Missed you."

You scoff, reaching for your purse and fishing out a compact to touch up your lipstick and powder. He walks next to you while you touch up, arm slinging around your waist while he does.

"You're gonna make me mess it up," you say, swiping a line of color over your lips. "I already messed it up back there," he shrugs while the elevator doors ding open, "What's a second time?" He pushes you up against the elevator wall when the doors close behind you, "Or a third time?" You hum into his kiss, hungry and touchy, feeling yourself swell between your legs.

Another drink and an hour on the dance floor later and you're back at the table while the guys chat with cigars on the opposite side of the room. Steve stands with a hand in his pocket, cocky and confident, while he talks with his work friends -- you're sure about something he doesn't really care about. Mergers and acquistions.

"He sent Rob's secretary three dozen roses as a goodbye gift," one of the women at the table behind you said to another. "Oh, you know he just did that to piss him off," her friend replied, "Muffy told me she doesn't even like him like that. It's all been for fun."

"He told her to come visit him in New York any time," she shrugged, "But he stopped sleeping with her earlier this month cause he said he's got himself a girl in the city."

"Can't believe he's going to New York for some girl," she complains, "He stopped flirting with everyone. But you know what? Good riddance, he's fucking boring now. Hot but boring." "It's not the girl he brought tonight, right?" the other woman asks, "That's gotta be a friend from school or something. She's not very New York looking, pretty home grown if you ask me."

It doesn't bother you, but your shoulders tense a little. In your own little world with Steve was one thing, but to hear people confirm your slight fears about what the future could hold was another. You couldn't deny the sinking feeling in your chest every time you remembered he was moving to New York. Moving into your life in a way you'd never had him before. Disrupting the whole life you built there by yourself, a place you've been able to call home without anyone from your real home to bother you. 'Got himself a girl', since when? Weren't you just having fun? Before you can get too lost in your thoughts, he's coming towards you with your coats in his arms, holding yours out in front of him. "You wanna get outta here, baby?" he asks, there's a slight slur to his words that makes you laugh. "Sure," you smile. You hear a soft 'Oh, shit,' come from the table behind you. "You need me to find a phone to call for a car?" you ask him. He shakes his head, "No, they'll call one for us downstairs." You put on your coats, led around for a flurry of goodbyes before heading back into the elevator to the lobby. He takes your hand immeidately, leading you to the front desk to ask for a car before taking you outside to wait. "You have fun?" he asks, pulling you in to hold you, protecting you from the cold. "Oh, a lot of fun," you smile, "You brought your dancin' shoes, for sure." "Had to, since you're so nice to dance with," he smiles, hands dropping from your arms to laces fingers with yours. You smile, but he notices there's something off about it, not as genuine, "You okay?"

"Oh yeah, yeah, fine," you shake your head, "Just thinkin'."

"Yeah, I've been thinkin' too and um..." he starts, looking down, brows furrowing, "Thinking about you and uh--"

"What did you mean the other night, on the phone? When you said 'It's what it implies'?" he asks, thumb gliding idly against your gloved hand. One of his co-workers came bumbling through the revolving door, eyes glazed over with the buzz of alcohol. You dropped his hand before whoever this was could register it, embarrassment buzzing through you. If the women were talking about you, you couldn't imagine what the men were saying.

"Hey man, goodnight -- good to see you and uh -- yeah g-good luck if oh, shit I'm so fucked up dude -- good luck if I don't see you," he slurred, pulling Steve in for a hug. "Thanks, Jack. Easy there, buddy," Steve rolled his eyes at you from over his shoulder before he let go, "You're not driving tonight, right?"

Jack shakes his head and laughs, leaning against are large stone sqaure pillar. His eyes semi-follow the figure of a beautiful woman in a maroon dress pushing through the revolving door.

"Jack, let's go," she calls, like a mother to a son. She waves him over with her clutch, engagement ring glinting in the buildings facades.

"That's my ride," he smiles, stumbling over to her. They take eachother's hand and she offers an apology over her shoulder, saying goodnight to Steve and smiling at you.

"Sorry about that,” Steve says apologetically, reaching for your hand again, “You we’re saying.”

“Just that,” you stuttered, unable to find the right words to say to explain it, “I don’t know Steve. I’m not like — I don’t — This isn’t — ugh..”

“Take your time, Manhattan,” he teases. You don’t want to hurt him, especially not when he smiles at you like that.

“Bringing me here,” you start, “In this dress you bought me, in this necklace. Dancing with me, taking me to your office. It’s making people think we’re together.”

“Are we not?” Steve asked, his brows furrowing, “Cause I thought that — like, we talked about — have you been sleeping with other people?”

“No, Steve, I haven’t,” you shake your head, keeping your voice calm, “But I’m not going around telling people that you’re my boyfriend.”

Steve’s face drops a little, some pink rising in his cheeks that isn’t coming from the cold, “Oh.”

“I thought you liked me,” Steve confessed, “That you, y’know — that you wanted me. That you liked me the way I like you.”

“I do like you, Steve,” you tell him, your hand resting on his chest, “But what if this isn’t what you really want? What if this is just fun for now?”

"I mean, I -- I uprooted my whole life for you," Steve argues, "I'm moving to New York in a week and a half."

"I didn't ask you to do that for me. You wanted to do something new," you calmly explained back, "I said I thought it would be a good idea."

"You said we could try it for real..." his voice got weak, caught in his throat. Steve's amber eyes rounding while he looks at you, how the street lights dance across the jewelry he bought you, the gloss on your lips.

"When you got there," you corrected, "And what if you get there and that's not what you want anymore? There's a lot to offer guys like you in the city, Steve. It's a totally different world than the one I'm living in."

"I can bring you into it with me," he pleads, hands sneaking under your coat and finding your waist.

"Steve..." you say knowlingly, your shoulders sinking. Your fingers reach up and brush his hair out of his face, delicately following the line of his cheek.

"Nat, please, I..." his voice trails off when he realizes what he's about to say. You watch his Adam's apple bob while he swallows the words.

"Don't say it," you whisper softly, shaking your head, "You don't mean it."

A cab finally pulls in, and you take a glance at it over your shoulder. "I'm gonna go home, okay?" you ask. You turn to pull out of his hold, but he pulls you in desperately.

"Natalie..." disappointment soaks your name when he says it, "Just -- c'mon. We can forget this whole conversation. Please, come home with me."

You shake your head no.

"Please?" he begs, pulling you a little closer to him, "Please?"

You lean in to kiss him, taking him all in. His cologne, the way his lips taste, the way he moves his hands from your waist to your jaw. He wants to keep you there forever, pausing his life for however long it took to get bored of how our lips feel against his. He doesn't think there's a time when he will.

You break away when the cab beeps, brushing your nose against his like he does to you, "I had a really nice time."

"Me too," Steve kisses your forehead, swallowing the lump in his throat when he accepts that you're not staying the night, "Call me a little later? So I know you made it in okay?"

"Of course," you promise. It hurts to look at him like that, tears shining in his eyes that he’s trying to blink away.

“Goodnight Steve,” you smile with your lips closed, afraid that if you open them you’ll never stop talking about all the things you’re afraid to talk to him about.

“Night,” he says while you turn to hurry towards the cab. As it drives away, you see him wipe at his nose and shake his head, crossing his arms tightly around himself to protect him from the cold now that you weren’t there to keep him warm.

Steve watches the cab leave with a lump in his throat, sniffling hard enough that the cold air burns the back of his throat. There's no way in hell you don't love him back, he thinks. There's no fucking way. When the red lights from the back of the cab disappear onto the city streets he turns back into the lobby, Last Christmas plays again softly over the speakers like it's mocking him. The tinny layments bouncing off the marble floor and back into his ears, down to his chest where his heart thumps painfully. Rob, and his secretary Muffy, stumble out of the elevator bank drunk with giggles and empty champagne flutes. He catches Steve walking towards the security desk and lets out a hearty laugh. "You goin' home alone Harrington?" he asks with a grin, "Shoulda let me know, would've brought your friend along. Three's company, huh?" Steve's jaw ticks but he ignores him, letting the gush of cold air soothe over his mixture of sadness and frustration while Muffy and Rob open the door. His shoes click on the marble as he approaches the desk, the music taunts him as he does it. 'A face of a lover with a fire in his heart, a man undercover but you tore me apart...'

"Can I help you with anything else, Mr. Harrington?" the attendant asks. Steve sighs, the breath comes out in a shudder, "Would you mind calling me another cab?" "Right away," he says warmly. Steve appreciates the kindness, he wishes he got the man a goodbye card. The sound of the phonecall for the car is muffled as Steve thinks about how it felt to dance with you, the warmth of your skin, your giggles at the mall, the way you kissed him goodmorning in his bed earlier. He swallows, tears pooling in his eyes. 'But the very next day, you gave it away. This year, to save me from tears, I'll give it to someone special. Special -- someone --' "Car should be here shortly."

"Thanks man, thanks so much," Steve says without turning around to face him. He wipes at his eyes with gloved hand, heading back into the cold to wait for the cab.

Alone.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fan fiction #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #stranger things fan fiction #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington x you smut #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff

[kitten4sannie]

𝐂𝐡. 𝟐: 𝐑 𝐔 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞?

ch 1

Ex Boyfriend! Wooyoung x Fem! Reader

Genre: gratuitous smut, angst

Summary: After having a pleasant night out with your friend, seeing Wooyoung's name pop up on your phone almost made you scream. You knew that even if you had ignored his call, he would just keep calling you back, so you gave in — just like every other time.

W.C: 6.5k (could be longer cuz I didn't check when I edited it lol)

Warnings: exes with benefits, switch! Wooyoung (yes you read that right 🥵), switch! reader, weed use, Wooyoung's still a dick, toxicity, lots of swearing, there are feelings involved (that's as descriptive as i'll get ;;), name calling, degradation, use of the word "baby", ownership kink, filthy dialogue, spit play, messy blowjob, deep throating, brief cum play, face riding, manhandling, rough/passionate (unprotected) sex, choking, multiple positions, kissing, squirting, multiple orgasms, creampie

A/N: writing this one out just really hit different fsr and now i'm kinda sad that this is the...end?? maybe? who knows i might have some more ideas up my sleeve :] but i hope you all enjoy 🖤💔

p.s: take a tiny sip of water every time Wooyoung or y/n say “fuck/fucking” and you’ll be incredibly hydrated 💕

Fic Playlist

Masterlist

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"Byeee, get home safe!" you called out to your friend, watching as she opened her car door and craned her neck back to look at you, giving you a small smile and a peace sign. You repeated her actions, waiting for her to get into her car, before you followed suit.

Once you got situated inside your own car, you unlocked your phone to set up a queue of songs for your drive home, almost throwing it onto the dash when you saw Wooyoung's name pop up on your screen. "Awesome," you mumbled to yourself, bringing your thumb and index finger up to squeeze the bridge of your nose, sighing in dismay.

You saw there with your phone buzzing against your hand for a few seconds, ears zoning in on the sound of your heart racing inside your chest. "Fuck, okay." You leaned your head back against the headrest and reluctantly answered his call, snapping, "Let me guess. You want me to come over, right?" And you're not going to take no for an answer, are you?"

"Mm, you're already wound up all nice and tight for me, huh?" your ex returned in a low voice, unable to see the way you were gripping your thigh with your free hand. "I like that."

You let out an ‘augh’ sound, as if you were disgusted, making an attempt to bring him down a peg or two. “Of course you would. Your life must be really sad if you get turned on just by the thought of arguing with me.”

"Yours must be even worse since you're always willing to become an obedient little cumdump for me," he replied swiftly, chuckling when he didn't get a response, except for a small gasp on your end. "I'll see you soon, y/n."

Hearing Wooyoung simply hang up the call after what he had said should've made you mad, but it almost had the exact opposite effect on you — once again proving that the both of you were one and the same. Quietly ignoring the butterflies that were trying to escape your stomach, you pressed on a random song in your playlist and put your car in reverse, not even noticing when your lips curled into a small smile.

* * *

"Sup." You waved at Wooyoung from the doorway, kicking off your shoes and setting your bag down, then joining him on the couch.

"Hey," Wooyoung mumbled, not noticing how delayed his response was. "Took you long enough." He already looked high as hell, with red and glossy eyes, along with his voice coming out like he had just taken a tablespoon of sand.

"Uh-huh." Getting comfortable, you brought your foot underneath your opposite leg and leaned back into the cushion, smoothing out your skirt a bit and leisurely fixing the length of one of your kneesocks.

Wooyoung's gaze slowly traveled up and down your body, causing his Adam's apple to bob inside his throat. He unconsciously grabbed at the crotch of his joggers, his tongue just barely poking out of his mouth to swipe over his bottom lip. "Wow, you actually got dressed up this time. You look...good."

Despite being used to Wooyoung's 'compliments', his words still sought to get under your skin. However, you swallowed your annoyance down, for now, as you were far more interested in the way your ex was blatantly eye-fucking you. "Well, yeah, I had plans before this, but that's not even the point. You usually call me late at night, so do you really expect me to come over with a full face of makeup and a whole coordinated outfit, or what?"

While you had been talking, Wooyoung made the best use of his time, bringing his bong up to his lips and lighting it, idly glancing down at your thighs. He sucked inward for a while, then pulled the mouthpiece out, still inhaling, all while internally pondering how he should answer you. Once the vapor drifted out of his mouth, he shook his head, replying, "Nah, just like...put on some mascara or something."

You took the bong from him when he passed it to you, silently taking a hit and mulling over his words, unable to keep yourself from smirking once you had exhaled. "Why? So you can watch it run down my face when you're fucking my brains out?"

When you had motioned for him to take the bong back, his slender fingers settled on yours for a moment, not making an attempt to pull away. "Ideally, yeah," he nodded lazily, his brown eyes lingering on your glossy lips. "I want to cum all over that slutty face of yours, too...and make you all messy."

Feeling your body respond to what Wooyoung had done and said, you leaned closer to him, your shoulders touching. "You never get tired of doing that, do you?" you asked, setting the bong down on the floor, so that you could rest your hand on Wooyoung's thigh, your fingertips just barely reaching the inseam of his pants.

Chuckling softly, Wooyoung shook his head, casually grabbing your hand and moving it farther up his leg, until he went stiff upon hearing his phone vibrating against the armrest of the couch. He immediately reached for it and pressed on one of the multiple text notifications he had received. “Hold up.”

You looked down at his phone, your once inquisitive expression melting into one that could only be described as pure disgust. “Are you actually serious right now?” you scoffed in disbelief, watching as Wooyoung scrolled through some highly explicit nudes that some rando had sent to him.

“What? Don’t act like you’re not fucking around with other people. Jesus, y/n, get off your high horse.”

“High horse? Really? It’s not even about that! You just–…ugh…never mind.” You shook your head slightly, not having the energy to get into it with Wooyoung for the thousandth time.

Wooyoung let out an exasperated sigh, typing something back to the stranger and repositioning himself on the couch. “Give me a minute, okay? Just fill up another bowl and I’ll be done before you know it.”

“Fine, whatever,” you huffed, grabbing the grinder that was sitting on the cluttered coffee table and opening it, grumbling something rude under your breath.

“What was that?” Wooyoung eyed you through his peripheral, one of his eyebrows raising slightly.

You carefully filled up the glass mouthpiece, shaking your head a bit. “Nothing, just hurry up.”

“Uh-huh.”

You initially thought you had gotten over the way Wooyoung was still just sitting there in silence and ignoring your presence so that he could sext someone — since you were occupied with the abundant offering of weed he provided you. However, when you had reached a comfortable high, you finally began to feel pissed.

“Why did you even fucking call me over here, if you’re just going to do that, huh?” you questioned bitterly, just in time for you to witness your ex shamelessly pulling his dick out and wrapping his fingers around it, while using the other hand to hold his phone up. “Woo, are you s–”

“Shut the fuck up.” Wooyoung glanced in your direction, giving you a dirty look, before he began to stroke himself, exhaling when he started to get hard, pressing the record button.

Growling out of frustration, you moved toward Wooyoung, reaching your hand out. “Give me that shit,” you remarked, snatching his phone out of his hand and tossing it onto the carpet. Before he had a chance to retaliate, you dropped down to your knees in front of him, pushing his thighs apart from one another so that you could fit in between them.

“What are you…aaaah-oh, god…” he reacted, gripping his upper thigh when he felt your soft lips and tongue encase the tip of his cock, watching as you slid them down along his length and back up a few times, letting out a small noise of approval when you did it agonizingly slow the last time around.

You swirled your tongue around the tip languidly, prior to flicking it across the small slit, earning a groan from Wooyoung. “That’s what I fucking thought,” you taunted, using your thumb to rub against his frenulum in small, gentle circles, knowing that it was sensitive.

“Oh, shit…that feels good…” he exhaled, ignoring your attempt at slighting him, too caught up with the lust that was flooding his senses. “Spit on it, baby.”

You froze for a second when you heard what he had called you, which was unusual, since you had been used to him calling you that, but suddenly it seemed to yank at your heartstrings. Ignoring this revelation, you eventually obliged his request, drawing saliva into your mouth and letting it drip down onto his cock, one long string at a time, all while your dilated eyes gazed up into Wooyoung’s glazed-over ones. “Like that, Woo?”

“Uh-huh. Now, get to work,” he smirked, his cock growing harder inside your hand.

“Sounds good~” you purred, almost forgetting that you were supposed to hate him, your fingers tightening around his length and pumping it quickly, your lips attaching to his cockhead.

He drank in the sight of you, incredibly pleased with the way you were looking at him, his fingers slipping into your hair. “Messier, baby.”

You slurped on his twitching tip, bringing some of your spit into your mouth, then spitting it back out, moaning softly when it dripped down the sides of his cock. You moved your saliva around with your tongue, making sure to run it across his slit a few times, teasing him once again.

“That’s it…” Wooyoung slid down against the couch slightly, spreading his legs open a bit more, only snapping out of his hazy state when he heard his phone buzzing on the carpet, most likely receiving a FaceTime call from the ignored individual. “Hey, can you grab my phone and hand it to me?”

As your brows drew close and your nose scrunched up in anger, you tightened your grip around Wooyoung’s member, resisting the urge to squeeze it until you heard a disconcerting sound. “You gotta be fucking kidding me!”

Wooyoung let out an abrupt chuckle, not meaning what he said in the slightest, but just simply saying it for your reaction. “Mmm, you must really want to suck my cock, if you’re getting this upset over some nudes.” Without any warning, he grabbed your chin and tilted it upwards, forcing you to look at him. “You’re jealous, huh? Answer me, slut.”

“Yeah, and what about it?” you retorted, glaring daggers up at Wooyoung, your lips forming a small scowl. “I took time out of my night to see you, so I expect to have your full attention and not have to compete with some stupid cunt I don’t even know!”

Another pleased laugh escaped from Wooyoung’s throat, a rare grin gracing his irritatingly handsome features. “Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you get this jealous. I’m kind of shocked, actually.” He leaned in and pulled your face closer in his direction as well, so that he could clearly see your next reaction. “Did you fall in love with me again, y/n? I wouldn’t blame you. I know you can’t help it.”

For a second there, the fear on your face was visible, but was quickly replaced with your usual display of annoyance. “Just shut up and let me suck your dick, before it goes all limp on me!” you protested, wrapping your fingers loosely around the base of his cock and pumping it again, encouraging Wooyoung to release his grip on you and allow you to go back to what you were doing earlier, but with more enthusiasm.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby…” Wooyoung’s long fingers remained entangled in your locks, but he didn’t pull at it, instead stroking it in an oddly affectionate manner. “Are you gonna deep-throat my cock? Huh? Are you gonna show me how much a slut like you loves sucking dick?”

Wooyoung’s baiting words only served to fuel your desire to see him cum for you. You didn’t even let yourself tease him anymore, and instead, allowed him into your throat, relieved that your gag-reflex wasn’t as active this time around. “Mmmmfff…” was all you could manage to get out, wanting to look up at Wooyoung, but unable to do so, with the way your irises were disappearing behind your shutting eyelids.

“Jesus Christ, I wish you could see the face you’re making…” he exhaled, somewhat shakily, gathering up your hair and holding it so none of it could hide his view of your face. “You’re such a fucking whore for me. I bet that cunt of yours is dripping already, just from having my cock down your throat.”

Feeling your pussy clench around nothing but air, you bobbed your head diligently, shoving most of his length down your throat in a way that drove him absolutely crazy — unable to hold yourself back. The thickening drool that consistently pooled inside your mouth slowly dripped down your chin and chest in abundance, letting you hear Wooyoung groan in approval.

“F-ffffuuuck, I…Oh, god…I think I’m…” his voice trailed off, unable to finish his sentence, knowing he was about to cum at any given second.

“Mm-hmm? Mm-hmm?” you moaned onto him, giving it your all, as if your rent was due tomorrow. You gripped his lower thighs, reluctantly pulling yourself off of him when you heard him mutter the word ‘open’, wanting to giggle after he could barely form the two syllables.

Cum shot out of Wooyoung’s cock, mostly landing near your mouth and on your chest, causing a small gasp to leave your lips. “Mm…” As if he was waiting for this exact moment, his fingertips were already rubbing the warm, sticky liquid all over your lips and chin, making sure to smear some across your cheek, appreciating how it began to mess up your makeup. “Look at you…You’re my messy little slut, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” you answered softly, your jaw going lax, unable to hide how insanely turned on you were. Wooyoung took advantage of this and pushed his coated fingers onto your tongue, prompting you to close your mouth and suck on them, until they were clean.

“Good girl.”

You and Wooyoung sat there for a while, just looking into each other’s lustful eyes, neither of you knowing what to make of the unspoken jumble of emotions you both continuously decided to shove away.

Squeezing one of Wooyoung’s thighs, you smirked a bit, inquiring in a smug tone, “That must’ve felt really good, huh?”

“You were able to make me cum pretty fast this time, I’ll give you that. Though, my friend is still able to suck dick better than you, unfortunately…but, you know, practice makes perfect.” Wooyoung shrugged his shoulders, giving into his usual toxic routine and trying to bring you down, all the while his cheeks and ears were still flushed beyond measure.

“Oh my god, will you shut up already?” you rasped, as you shot up from the floor, angrily pulling your top up and over your head, then sliding yourself out of your skirt, revealing you had nothing on underneath — much to your ex’s delight. “I’m sick and tired of hearing the stupid shit you say! So fucking tired of it…”

“Oh, yeah?” he gauged, his voice almost coming out like a moan, clearly getting off on how much he was upsetting you.

“Yeah!” You suddenly grabbed Wooyoung by the shoulders and yanked him down onto the couch cushion below, instantly straddling him, so that you were positioned directly over his face.

Surprised by your sudden actions, Wooyoung simply stayed put, his eyes trailing from the band of your knee socks up to your dripping cunt.

You let out a huff, using two fingers to spread your pussy for him so that he could get a good look at it. “Why don’t you put that big fucking mouth of yours to good use? Hm? Does that sound like a good idea?”

“Excuse me? You think I’m just going to do what you say?” he scoffed, using one hand to smack your ass, grabbing it roughly afterwards, eliciting a gasp from you. “I’ll eat your slutty little cunt if I feel like it — not when you tell me to. Now, get off of me, before I kick your ass!”

He was about to continue his tirade when you gripped the sides of his head and pressed yourself onto his mouth, rubbing your wet folds on his plush lips. “Shut the fuck up and stick your tongue out.”

Pleasantly surprised by your aggressiveness, Wooyoung hesitated, but eventually obeyed, holding his tongue out, so that you could rub yourself on it, causing him to let out a small whimper, not able to hold it in.

“Mm, that’s it,” you mumbled to yourself, moving your hips at an increasingly desperate pace, wanting to cum as soon as possible. “Look at you. Just a second ago, you were so tough and scary, Woo. What happened?”

Wooyoung groaned out against you, using his tongue to lap at your slit whenever he could, your wetness leaking out into his mouth, causing his eyes to roll back into his skull. Of course, he loved having control over you, but he couldn’t ignore how painfully hard he was, so he decided to just go with the flow.

“Mmmm, that’s a good boy. You want to fuck me with your tongue next?” you questioned, in between pants, running your fingers through his hair, before gripping it roughly, earning an uncharacteristically whiny moan from him. “Answer me, you whore!”

He opened his eyes and looked up at you, his eyebrows knitting together in an upward motion, the tip of his cock now dripping pre-cum, as he emitted a muffled “Mm-hmmm!”

Normally, he would’ve gone ballistic from hearing you talk to him like that, but he was so turned on, he wasn’t bothered in the slightest. In fact, he desperately hoped you kept going.

“Good…” you exhaled, letting go of his head for a second to rake your fingers through your somewhat-tangled hair, moving it out of your line of vision and behind your ear. “You better make me cum.”

Wooyoung slid his hands past your ass and up near your hips, then angled himself so that he could push his tongue inside your pulsing hole. He dug his fingers into your skin, shoving his tongue in and out of you as deep as he possibly could.

You breathed heavily, fucking yourself on his tongue as well, feeling like you were already going to cum, not only from the pleasure, but from the shift in power. “You always…act so big and bad…but you really…you really just want to get treated-nnngh-like a little fuck toy, don’t you?“

Wooyoung whined against you, almost pleading with his glossy, watery eyes, giving you the answer you wanted when he moaned, “Uh-huhhhh…”

“You’re so pathetic,” you mused arrogantly, giving Wooyoung a satisfied smile, flashing your canines at him. You had sort of expected to see anger boil up to the surface of your ex’s features, but you were instead met with a face that only could be described as pure bliss. “Now, suck on my clit.”

Wooyoung obeyed, pulling his arousal-coated tongue out of your pulsing hole and wrapping his plush lips around your clit, sucking on it with varying levels of intensity, knowing exactly how to drive you to your breaking point.

“God, that’s…Oh, shit…” you reacted shakily, your vision starting to blur around the edges, unintentionally bucking your hips up. “I’m so close…Just a little…more…”

With his arms locking around you so that you couldn’t escape, Wooyoung alternated between licking and sucking, groaning when you squeezed your thighs around his head.

“Fuck…!” you cried out, squirting so incredibly hard that you faded out of existence for longer than you had anticipated.

Wooyoung panted softly against your pussy, quietly slurping up your essence, in between shallow breaths, a deep blush imprinted on his cheeks. His eyes were closed and his mind was clouded over, as he came down from his own high, despite not even being physically stimulated.

Once you came to, you let out a satisfied sigh, climbing off of Wooyoung and standing up, in order to reach out your limbs and stretch them. “Ahh, who knew you could be so tolerable? You gotta be a whiny little sub for me more often.”

“Shut up,” he mumbled, trying to wipe your cum off of his face, but unable to do anything about the arousal that had already wet his hair.

“Damn, relax.”

Feeling something on your lower back, you swiped at it and looked down at your hand, unable to hide your amusement when you saw the milky white substance dripping through your fingers. “Holy shit, did you cum just from that?” you blurted out, looking up and pointing at Wooyoung’s cum-covered abdomen. “Oh my god, you did!”

Wooyoung gritted his teeth tightly, unable to handle the amount of humiliation that washed over him, suddenly pissed that you were treating him like he normally treated you.

You were practically tingling from the newfound power you had felt, almost ready to cast aside your role as an obedient sub. Almost. “I guess you really like when I’m in control, huh? Should I use a strap on you n-”

Before you could finish, Wooyoung had already grabbed you by your upper arm and forced you face-down onto the couch cushion where he had just been laying, allowing you to feel the body heat that still remained there.

Pulling his t-shirt off with his free hand and tossing it to the ground, Wooyoung lowered himself to your ear, stating, “Don’t forget your place, y/n. I may have let you get away with that, but you’re still my little toy at the end of the day. You belong to me, don’t you?”

Biting your bottom lip, you wondered if you should give your ex the satisfaction of answering his question truthfully, afraid that it would cause his ego to double in size. “Just because you-”

“Don’t you, y/n? Isn’t that why you always let me treat you like this?” he interrupted in a low voice, positioning himself at your entrance, with his hand pressed onto the back of your head, pushing it into the couch.

“Mm-hmm…” you mumbled out, internally berating yourself for being so incredibly weak when it came to Wooyoung.

“Say it, y/n.”

Feeling the head of his dick just barely pushing inside your cunt and stretching you out, you began to nod your head against the palm of his hand, knowing there was no point in arguing with him. “I…I belong to you…”

Without giving you any sort of warning, Wooyoung grunted, plunging his cock into you, bottoming out in less than a second. “That’s fucking right.” Your obedience gave Wooyoung the incentive to destroy you, pushing him to begin slamming himself in and out of you, knowing he wouldn’t stop anytime soon.

A few mindless obscenities fell from your lips, as you felt your body completely relax into the cushion, taking Wooyoung’s rough treatment without any complaints.

Wooyoung took incredible delight in the way you always seemed to submit to him, letting out a few airy chuckles, his hips snapping into yours unapologetically. “That’s my…good girl…”

Unable to emit anything competent, you simply moaned and groaned periodically, your voice slowly rising in pitch and volume, your fingers digging into the edge of the couch, after hearing his puzzling choice of words.

He pounded into you relentlessly, making you cum somewhere along the way, but not stopping, until he felt the tight spring inside him threaten to uncoil. “Oh, shit…Get ready, baby…”

You felt your eyes becoming watery, actively refusing to confront yourself and face the fact that you were clearly upset over hearing Wooyoung routinely call you baby throughout the night. Of course, it turned you on immensely, but it hurt you more. “Just cum already, please…”

Wooyoung suddenly flipped you over, and shoved himself back inside you, leaning down so that he could drink in your expression, just as his cum started to pour into you.

“A-hhhh….”

“Can you feel it, y/n? All of my cum inside you? You love it, don’t you? Say you fucking love it!” he exclaimed, unable to keep his desperation hidden within his harsh tone.

You nodded weakly, gazing up at him, your thighs trembling against his. “I love it, Woo…”

Letting out a groan, he wrapped his fingers around your neck and slowly squeezed it in the right places, so that you felt like you were floating, the tips of your fingers tingling. “Say it again.”

“I…love…it…” you replied breathlessly, your voice barely above a whisper, unable to stop a tear from falling down your cheek, which dragged a black streak of mascara down with it. You let out a small whine when Wooyoung leaned down towards you, so close that you could feel his lips moving near your jaw, his fingers releasing your neck.

“I know you do, baby…I know…” Wooyoung murmured softly against your skin, pumping his cum into your pulsing hole, only stopping when he thought he had sufficiently fucked it into you. “You look so pretty like this…” He pressed a thumb onto your cheek and wiped a bit of the mascara away, giving you a gentle smile, which only set off more alarm bells inside your clouded brain.

You couldn’t even think at this point, let alone make sense of the odd switch in character your ex had been displaying throughout the night. All you could do was lay there and try to catch your breath, your body warm and tingly, Wooyoung’s cum sliding out of you and down onto the cushion.

“Woo…I- um…” you started, without giving it much thought, only to close your mouth when he wrapped his arms around your waist, locking you in place.

“I'm not done with you.” Without even giving you a chance to react, he sat back against the couch, simultaneously lifting you up and down onto his lap, shoving his already-hard cock back inside your cunt, proceeding to buck his hips up into yours.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, gripping the top of the couch for stability, feeling a pleasant shiver go up your spine when Wooyoung slipped his fingers into the sides of your knee-socks and tugged on them a bit as he thrusted into you.

“Fuck, baby…How are you still so tight? Even after I just got done wrecking you?” Wooyoung studied your surprised face, just as he leaned into your body and sucked one of your tits into his mouth. “Hmm?” he mumbled on your chest, using the flat of his tongue to lap at your nipple.

You shook your head slightly, emitting a sharp gasp, not really knowing how to respond from being too caught up in the moment, as well as being focused on what you wanted from him. “Bite it, Woo…please…”

One corner of Wooyoung’s lips lifted up, as he rolled your nipple around between his teeth, before biting down on it with enough pressure to satisfy your needs, earning a delighted moan from you.

“Now, spit on it…”

Wooyoung pulled back ever so slightly, with his lips pursed, spitting on your breast and turning his head, so that he could spit on the other one. “Mm…Like that, y/n?” He used his thumb to rub his saliva around, making your skin glossy.

“Yeah, just like that…” Without realizing, you started to grind your own hips down into his, just as desperately as he was trying to shove himself up into you.

“I thought so…” he murmured, pushing your tits together in order to drag his tongue back and forth between them, groaning all the while.

“Babyyyy…” you let slip out, bringing him to let go of your breasts so that he could caress your cheek with his warm fingers, neither of you breaking eye contact for what seemed like an eternity. “It feels so fucking good…”

“Yeah?” Seeing you nod right away, Wooyoung leaned his forehead against yours, his lips just barely brushing over your parted ones. “Are you going to cum on my cock again for me, y/n? Huh? Are you going to squirt all over it?”

“Uh-huhhh…”

“Then fucking do it.”

You cried out in ecstasy, careening over the edge from the way he was acting with you, whimpering when Wooyoung’s hands returned to your waist and squeezed it so tightly that you thought he might leave handprints on your skin. “Oh, god, I’m cumming…!” you whined shakily, tossing your head back and closing your eyes.

“Uh-uh.” When he saw that your head was leaning back, he gripped the back of it and forced you to continue looking at him, slowing his movements down, so that he could fuck you in a more calculated, almost passionate way. “Hey, look at me. I want you to cum again, okay? And, this time, you’re not going to look away.”

Instead of resisting Wooyoung’s hold on you, you found yourself wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your sweat-covered body against his, your lower-halves working in tandem with one another to reach your highs. “As long as you promise to fill me up,” you invited sweetly, your heart pounding inside your rib cage.

“Don’t I always? Now, come here.” Wooyoung gave you another oddly charming smile, one of his hands moving up to your jaw and coaxing it open, so that he could bring you into an open-mouthed kiss, his tongue slipping inside and moving against yours.

“Mmm…!” you reacted, your eyes still open, due to being genuinely surprised that Wooyoung kissed you. You couldn’t even remember the last time he did; it was probably somewhere around your third or fourth breakup.

Wooyoung opened his eyes slightly, studying your wide ones, his tongue lapping lazily at your own, some of his spit already dripping down his chin.

Too caught up in the heat of the moment, your eyelids fluttered shut and your hands instinctively slid up the back of his neck, your fingers slipping into his damp hair. Your heads periodically tilted in opposite directions, so that you could both engage in a sloppy, fervent kiss.

Feeling your pussy tighten significantly around his throbbing length, Wooyoung reluctantly broke the kiss, using his free hand to gather up some of your combined saliva that was dripping in abundance from your mouths and rubbing it all over your lips, then pushing his fingers onto your tongue, groaning when your mouth closed around them. “Fuuuuck, look at you…You don’t act like this for anyone else, do you? It’s all for me, isn't it, baby?” he asked, burning the image of your fucked-out expression into his memory.

“Mm-hmm…”

“Thought so.” Wooyoung grabbed your chin with his glistening fingers and mumbled, “I can feel how tight your cunt is around me, so go ahead and cum. Come on, make a mess on my dick, baby.”

You kept your glossy eyes locked on his, almost screaming when your warm wetness squirted forcefully out of you and all over his cock for the third time.

“Gooood girl…Now, let me fill you up, baby. Just how you like…” Wooyoung groaned deeply, his hands returning to your hips and cementing you in place, as his seed spilled deep inside your spasming cunt, a string of obscenities falling from his lips.

“Oh my god…” You dug your nails into Wooyoung’s skin, your thighs shaking uncontrollably, almost unable to handle how good it felt to be filled up to the brim with your ex’s load.

Once Wooyoung could breathe properly, he struggled to find the right words, not able to explain how he felt. “Oh, god…that was…”

As your body relaxed completely against Wooyoung’s, you kept your arms wrapped around him, suddenly not wanting to let go, but not really thinking about it, since your brain was still buzzing from the overload of endorphins. “I know…I know what you mean…” you replied cryptically, nuzzling his neck a bit.

Wooyoung didn’t say anything else for a while, simply running his hand up and down your lower back, his fingers ghosting along the indent of your spine. He closed his eyes, feeling his head almost spin, due to the influx of conflicting ideas that had infiltrated his mind.

You were in a similar place, the truth of reality hitting you like a ton of bricks, forcing you to pull yourself away from him, wanting to get away from the distressing headspace you were falling into as soon as humanly possible.

When Wooyoung felt your warmth leave him, as you got up from the couch, he reached out and grabbed your wrist, holding it rather tight. “Don’t go. Just stay here with me tonight,” he announced, not even thinking before he said it.

Suddenly made uncomfortable by the way he was squeezing your wrist, you forcefully yanked your arm away from him. Wincing, you rubbed your sensitive skin, making up a viable excuse, “No, I need to get home. I have work tomorrow. Why are you being like this?”

Wooyoung tsked and sat up, quickly snaking his arms around you and bringing your body against his, so that you were awkwardly pinned to both him and the lower half of the couch. He rested the side of his head on your upper abdomen for a moment, then pulled away to look up at your shocked face, giving you a straight answer, “Cuz I want you to stay. I don’t give a fuck if you have work. You’re going to stay put.”

You wriggled around in his grasp, shaking your head and complaining, “Oh my god, you’re being so fucking weird. Just get off of me!” When he didn’t let go of you, you pushed on his face, causing him to grunt, but still hold on, eventually letting go when you shoved his shoulders instead.

The force of your push caused him to slam into the back cushion and slump down against it, prompting him to just stay there instead of getting up. He remained silent, giving you an expression that you couldn’t read.

“Jesus,” you remarked, hastily picking up your discarded clothes from the ground, while trying to disregard the unresolved feelings that had been eating away at you since you had stepped into his apartment. “You better not do that again, or else I’m not coming around anymore.” You glanced up from the floor to give him a dirty look, wanting him to know that you were being completely serious.

Wooyoung rolled his eyes, running his fingers through his damp brown hair, actively ignoring the sharp twinge of pain inside his chest. “Whatever. You know you can’t live without this dick.” He snapped his fingers at you when you wouldn’t give him the response that he wanted, desperately trying to get your attention when you started to put your clothes on, ignoring him. “Hello? Are you fucking deaf?”

You remained tight-lipped, zipping up your skirt and adjusting it, eventually letting out a small sigh. Truthfully, you weren’t sure if you had it in you to continue this relationship with Wooyoung. At first, it was a good way for you to release all the negative emotions you had usually shoved deep down and locked away, but now…now it was just leaving an incredibly bitter taste in your mouth.

Wooyoung grimaced, clearing his throat and asking in an irritable tone, “Why are you just staring at me like that? You know it’s the truth. You can’t live without me, y/n. If you could, you would’ve blocked me after the first time we broke up.”

Ignoring his words, you walked over to the door and grabbed your bag, letting it dangle near the ground, instead of putting it on your shoulder, your distant gaze lowering until your vision grew blurry from the threat of incoming tears. “You know…now that I think about it, we should really stop doing this, Woo. It’s not good for us.”

He suddenly jolted up, his fingers gripping at the edge of the cushion below him, unable to hide the panic forming on his face. “Wh-what are you talking about? Jeez, I…I must’ve fucked you so hard, your brain stopped functioning,” he responded, letting out a nervous chuckle.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, appearing like you were in a significant amount of pain. You should’ve done this a long time ago, but there was always a small part of you that wanted to hold on, hoping that somehow all of your problems would magically disappear and you could go back to how everything was before. However, deep down inside, you knew that it was never tangible — even from the start. The two of you were just flawed, broken people who could never seem to build each other up, instead opting to tear down one another again and again. And it had finally gotten to be too exhausting for you.

Wooyoung felt like he was going to start hyperventilating when you looked up at him with a blank face, initially unable to see the tears fall from how fast you were wiping them away. “y/n…?” he called out shakily, dread forming within him, making him feel like he had a ten ton weight sitting inside the pit of his stomach.

With teary eyes and trembling lips, you opened your mouth to speak, but no sound came out at first, causing you to clear your dry throat. You closed your fists tightly for a moment, before they slowly relaxed against the sides of your thighs. “Woo…it’s over. I just…can’t do this anymore.”

Before you realized what was happening, Wooyoung was already clinging onto you, tears dripping down his own cheeks and shaky, abrupt breaths being forced out of his throat, showing a side of himself that you had only witnessed once years ago. “D-don’t be fucking stupid!” he choked out, his fingers gripping the back of your sweater so firmly, you thought that he might rip the thin material. “You’re not leaving me!”

Your eyebrows lowered and pulled together, your lips still quivering, as you wondered internally why he had to make this so incredibly hard for you. It was difficult enough already; you didn’t want to let go of him, but you knew you had to for the sake of your sanity, as well as his. “Woo…please…We can’t do this anymore. We’re destroying each other. Can’t you see that...?” you murmured in a fragile voice, making a weak attempt to pull away from him, blinking away a few tears in the process.

Wooyoung shook his head violently, dropping his weight down on you and burying his face into your chest, his fingers clawing into your back desperately, shouting, “I don’t care!” He let out a few small whimpers, wiping his tears away by using the front of your sweater. “I’ll happily drown with you, y/n…” He pulled back slightly and looked up at you with empty eyes, an incredibly pained smile on his flushed face.

“No! That’s exactly what I’m talking about, you idiot! That’s so fucking toxic!” you protested, unable to keep your voice from cracking, while actively doing your best to stand steadily and peel Wooyoung off of you. “Get. Off!” You let out a sudden yell of frustration when you couldn’t get away from him, not knowing what to do at this point. “Please…”

Wooyoung tightened his grip around your body, until you could feel significant pain in your ribs, leaving you almost lightheaded. “No!” he shouted, with every ounce of his being, threatening to damage his vocal cords.

Feeling completely and utterly drained, both mentally and physically, you slowly slumped down onto the carpet, giving up and allowing your bawling ex to curl up around you like a frightened child.

Wooyoung had lost all control of his emotions, too traumatized by the thought of you leaving him to hold back in any sort of capacity. “Fuck…you…You’re staying…right here…!” he gasped out, in between sobs, his voice airy and weak. “You’re never…leaving me!” He lightly hit his closed fist against your back, stopping when he simply wanted to hold onto you again. “Never…ever…!”

You closed your tired eyes, leaning your head into the crook of Wooyoung’s neck and resting it there. “Okay.” Caving in, you gently stroked his hair and placed your other hand on his lower back, giving it light pats.

Wooyoung stiffened up for a second, still gasping for air, unable to quell his crying-induced hiccups. “You…mean…that?”

“Yeah…I mean it.” You relaxed into his body, holding him so close that you could feel his heart pounding against your chest. You nuzzled your cheek into his warm skin, noticing how he would jolt periodically from drawing in quick, fragile breaths. “I’m right here, okay? Now, just breathe…and relax…”

He followed your advice, concentrating on his erratic breathing, until he eventually calmed down, his rapid heart rate slowly returning to a normal one. “y/n…” he mumbled, gingerly moving up near your face and gazing at you for a second, before pressing his cold lips onto yours.

You didn’t resist him, not even noticing when your fingers automatically interlocked with his, until you felt him squeezing your hand. Once you shared a few gentle, heartfelt kisses, you pulled back slightly, looking into his sad blood-shot eyes. “Where do we go from here?” you asked, your voice barely coming out.

Wooyoung leaned his forehead against yours, his hand gripping yours so tightly, he threatened to cut off the circulation. “I…I don’t know, exactly…” he answered truthfully, letting out a pained sigh, his eyes still focused solely on your watery ones. “But I do know that I want you by my side.”

After listening to his words, you leaned back into Wooyoung, the tension in your body subsiding. “Okay…I’ll stay with you, Woo. I won’t leave...until you want me to.”

Letting go of your hand, he opted to wrap himself around you once again, resting the side of his face on your shoulder, his breath hitting your skin. Closing his eyes and feeling some sort of peace, Wooyoung smiled to himself. “Don’t be stupid, y/n. That’s never going to happen.”

➽───────────────❥

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[chahnniesroom]

tenderness | bonus scene: when we are in need

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: an awkward misunderstanding when minho overhears part of a private conversation between y/n and eunsung. set sometime around chapter 10.

chapter word count: 1.4k

warnings: suspicions of cheating, brief description of injury

a/n: honestly this scene might be a bit unexpected, but it was fun for me to write so here you go! also yes, the title is based on episode 8 of the last of us

tenderness masterlist | read it on ao3

Minho looks up from his phone when he hears the gasp and poorly suppressed laughter. A pair of young staff members that don’t look familiar are trying to subtly peek into one of the rooms. When they see Minho, one of the staff member’s eyes widen dramatically and they elbow the other trying to get their attention and tugs on their arm to drag them away.

Curious, he slows when he reaches the door that they had passed. He’s on his way to one of the practice rooms, but there’s still a little bit of time before he has to get there. The door to the room is partially opened, but not enough for Minho to see inside.

“Stop squirming, Y/n,” he hears Eunsung chide. 

Interesting.

“I can’t! This is so weird, you’re looming over me so much,” Y/n complains in response.

“Can you lift your shirt more?” Minho stops in his tracks at the sound of Eunsung’s request. “Just relax. You’re so tense right now that it’ll make it hurt more. Here, follow my breaths for a moment.”

“It’ll hurt anyway.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Just get on with it,” Y/n snaps, but her voice is shaky. Minho forces himself to move, silently opening the door further and slipping inside. He closes it behind him and turns the lock.

“It’s going to sting,” Eunsung warns.

“Oppa, hurry up-” she cuts herself off with a sharp intake of air. 

Minho has always liked Y/n, even though he’s not as close to her as some of the other members are. He knows that she’s hard-working, kind, and that she cares for Chan, enough to sacrifice her physical wellbeing for him. 

He doesn’t want to jump to conclusions, it’s just really hard not to be suspicious about what he’s overheard. By now, all of the members have heard about the rumours of a romantic relationship between Y/n and Eunsung, they’d probably have to be deaf and blind not to, but Minho has never even entertained the idea that there might be some truth behind them. 

Taking a couple of deep breaths to try and control his temper doesn’t work, by the time he makes it to the makeshift curtains that are blocking the pair from sight, he’s pissed. 

When he pulls aside the curtains, he’s ready to yell at them, but the sight before him makes him freeze, feeling like all the air has been forced out of his lungs.

Y/n is stretched out on a couch with Eunsung crouched beside her. She makes eye contact with Minho and immediately yanks her shirt down and attempts to sit up, but not before Minho catches sight of Eunsung’s glove-covered hand that’s dabbing a cotton pad against one of the neat rows of stitches that cross her abdomen. The quick glance was enough for him to tell that they look inflamed and incredibly sensitive.

“What are you-” Eunsung protests, before he also spots Minho. He pulls his hand out from where Y/n’s shirt had stretched over it and moves it behind his back, as if that would hide what’s going on.

“I could hear you two from the hallway,” Minho explains flatly. He can see the moment that Y/n plays back the conversation and how it would sound without any context, her face paling.

“No,” she says faintly.

“Yes,” Minho replies. “Next time, you should at least close the door.”

“You didn’t close the door?!” Y/n turns to Eunsung and smacks him lightly. “Ugh, hopefully nobody else walked by.”

“Ah,” Minho says.

“Don’t tell me-”

“There were a couple of-”

“Don’t say it! I want to live in ignorance.”

Nobody speaks for a second. Y/n is fiddling with the hem of her shirt, Eunsung is awkwardly squatting beside her, and Minho is still trying to process everything.

“Why not get Channie-hyung to help you?” Minho asks slowly. “You know he would if you asked.”

“They’re ugly.” Minho can tell that’s not the whole reason. After a moment of silence, Y/n looks away and admits in a quiet voice, “and… I know he thinks this whole thing is his fault. I don’t want him to feel even more guilty than he already does. I thought that I could take care of them on my own, but it’s been difficult.” 

“I can help you with them. It’s better to do it at the dorms where you have privacy.”

Y/n hums noncommittally. Minho knows that means she won’t accept unless he presses her.

“Y/n, you need to clean them regularly. And really- they’re not ugly. Look, when it heals then we’ll be matching.”

He tugs at the bottom of his shirt so that it untucks itself from his pants and reveals the scar on his abdomen. It had initially healed nicely, but became warped by his growth so that it stretches strangely across his stomach. When he first became an idol, he hated it, now he accepts that it’s just part of himself. Minho’s no longer self conscious about it around the boys or any of the stylists or other staff who have seen them changing, but he still isn’t keen on showing Stays any time soon, even though he knows that a lot of them are curious. He’s fairly certain that Y/n has never seen it before.

She stares at it for a long time. Minho can see that her fingers flex and he steps a little closer.

“You can touch it, if you want,” he says gently. He pretends not to notice that her fingers are trembling when she reaches towards him. Y/n’s fingers are warm, but Minho can’t stop his stomach muscles from tightening as she traces the shape of the scar, unused to being touched there by someone else.

“Sorry, does it hurt?” she asks in a hushed voice, withdrawing her hand. Minho releases his shirt and lets it fall back into place.

“No, no, it’s fine. It was healed a long time ago. It just feels like normal skin now, maybe less sensitive if anything.” When she doesn’t respond, he speaks up again. “Do you think it’s ugly?”

“No, of course not!” she says immediately. 

“Then why would yours be?”

“It’s different,” she insists, resolutely avoiding eye contact.

“How?”

“I- It- It just is,” she says stubbornly. Minho can tell that his attempt to change her perspective seems to be at least partially successful, even if she doesn’t acknowledge it.

“It’s cheesy, but it’s proof that you survived. You shouldn’t be ashamed of them.” To try and lighten the mood, he continues, “If you don’t believe me, 3Racha literally wrote a whole song about it.”

Minho’s efforts are rewarded when she laughs a little.

“Let’s just… keep going,” Y/n says. She lifts up her shirt again, but flinches slightly the second that Eunsung’s hand approaches. When he hesitates, she pastes on a smile. “Sorry, I’m fine. Please, continue.”

Minho looks around him, then pulls a nearby chair closer. He sits and offers a hand to Y/n. She murmurs a thanks and threads their fingers together.

Her grip firm, tightening whenever Eunsung hits a particularly sensitive spot, although her expression never changes.

Eunsung talks Minho through the whole process, making sure he understands each step. He shows Minho how to wrap the bandages, demonstrating the proper placement and how tightly they should be applied. Afterwards, Eunsung packs up his things and Y/n levers herself up so that she’s sitting upright again. Minho takes that as a sign that he should leave now, he’s already 15 minutes late to dance practice.

“Minho,” Y/n calls when she sees him shuffle towards the door. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” he waves it off.

“No, really. I appreciate it. And… Please don’t tell Chan, I don’t want him to worry.”

Honestly, Minho is tempted to do just that, but he stops and studies Y/n for a moment. She’s still not looking at him, cheeks coloured with embarrassment. Telling Chan would only serve to make him upset. He’d be frustrated that Y/n didn’t tell him, hate himself about the fact that she felt the need to hide it in the first place, then agonise over anything else she might be keeping from him.

It would do nothing to improve the situation and in the end, it’s not his secret to tell.

“As long as you promise to come to me, to get them taken care of.”

“I promise.”

tenderness masterlist | read it on ao3

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