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#me @ the job I've had for three full years
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Stage Crew, striking a set after the show is over: WE ARE NOT PROFESSIONALS!
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princesstarazi · 1 year
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hmmmm not my workplace giving a christmas bonus to the only male member of staff on a team of six, including our line manager, for working hard this year like the rest of us haven't been busting our asses under constant scrutiny at the expense of our physical and mental health for months
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gabriellovescandy · 1 month
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Kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me
#I am so fucking tired of my parents#if I don't find a full time job soon (which i haven't been able to find for the past six months)#it's possible that my dad will be given the opportunity to live in our house by the state#apparently it can be done in around ten days once it's decided#can i trust my mother with these kinds of informations? absolutely not. but there is a 50/50 chances that it's true#i have saved as much as i could all my life in preparation of this moment and i do have enough money to move but it takes time#every other week my mother comes home with similar kinds of insane informations for me to process#one week she reassures me everything is fine and i have like a couple of years before leaving this house#the week after. this.#i have no idea of what's real or not#i am so stressed that last week i lost the ability to finction for three days straight#i am going insane#and i am in no condition to find jobs i've applied to very little positions in this timeframe also because of this stress that paralyzes me#i am not depressed but god i am indeed exausted#i also have surgery planned (do not know the date yet it's not a difficult one but i never had one and i am scared shitless)#and technically i am in a promising job selection but it's a public one so no one tells you nothing and it can take up to six months before#someone calls you back#so i am inside a limbo on every aspect of my life and it's unreal#i can't even see my psychologist because she's getting surgery next week so i'll see her the week after#i don't have the streight to write this new developement to friends#i think i'll just deadscroll for a while and then go to bed#i don't know. i'm so tired and at the same time not at all tired#i'm doing nothing with my days but i still need everything to stop#i don't know#stuff
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smileysuh · 7 months
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ghostie
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🌙 staring. Johnny x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. As one am rolls around, you start to realize that maybe tonight you won’t get a call. He is a frat boy, and this is Halloween weekend.  You’re disappointed as you get into bed, frowning as you scroll on your phone, hoping that if you wait another five minutes, maybe he’ll catch you. Five minutes turns into ten, turns into fifteen, and you find your eyes beginning to shut. You’re starting to understand how much you truly have come to depend on Ghostie as part of your nightly ritual. It hurts not to get a call from your favourite voice-modulated anonymous frat boy.
tw/cw. yandere/stalker subthemes, unknown caller, weed use, multiple reader orgasms, big dick!Johnny, oral, pussy eating, blowjob, deep throating, spit as lube, fingering, hand riding, dacryphilia, praise, dirty talk, cum/fullness kink, unprotected sex, heavy grinding, dick bulge, creampie, rough groping, slight restraint, size kink, submissive reader, subspace, dumbification, hair pulling, finger sucking, etc… I pet names: (hers) Tiny, good girl, pretty girl. (his) Ghostie.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 15k
🍭 aus. uni/frat au, yandere subthemes, Halloween, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. this might just be the best John fic I've ever written, or maybe I just need therapy
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Sunday 
You pause your movie when your phone rings and you look down at the screen. The number is unknown, and you briefly consider not even answering it. However, you’ve had two job interviews in the past week, and you don’t want to miss any opportunities, so with a sigh, you bring your phone to your ear.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Tiny, how’s your night going?”
Definitely not a prospective employer. Your sorority gave you the name Tiny during first year, something to do with the ‘tiny’ shots you always want to take, and only those within the Greek system use it on you. On top of the Greek-specific term of endearment, the man on the other end of the line is using a voice modulator of some sort, and it makes it impossible for you to identify him.
Your curiosity is sparked. 
“Who is this?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
You sigh, leaning back against your bed and setting your laptop to the side. “I get that Scream is having a comeback, but this whole ‘calling a girl and being mysterious’ thing won’t get you laid anytime soon.”
“Are you sure about that?” You can hear a hint of laughter in the man’s voice.
“If you’re not going to tell me who you are, I’ll hang up.”
“We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” There’s a pause then, “Let’s just say, a mutual friend gave me your number. They thought we’d hit it off.”
“Whoever this ungendered mutual friend is, I doubt they expected you to call me with a voice modulator and act out a Ghost Face fantasy. I get that Halloween is a week away, but come on… you can’t be serious about this.” 
“I am serious. Come on Tiny, live a little.” 
“You’re awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you, Mister Ghost Face.” 
“I’ve got good reason to be, trust me on that.”
You let out a deep sigh, going through your roster of men who might think this sort of thing would be funny. “Yunho? Is this you getting high again?” 
“Wrong frat, but good guess. I didn’t know Alpha Tappa Zeta’s star quarterback was a stoner, thanks for the info, Tiny.” 
“Shit,” you mutter to yourself. You hadn’t meant to throw Yunho under the bus like that.
“It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone about his… habits. That would be hypocritical of me.”
You search your mind for the stoners you know. Ones who would have the balls to call you like this. 
“Do you want to take another guess? I’ll give you three chances. You have two more.”
Aside from ATZ, you spend a lot of time with Sigma Veta Tau. Soonyoung is a well-known blunt roller in the fraternity system, but he wouldn’t do a charade like this. He’s very open about hitting on you any time you’re at one of his parties. 
“Jeonghan?” you ask.
“Last guess, Tiny.” 
He doesn’t confirm or deny if you’ve gotten the frat right, but you can’t really see any other SVT members who would fit this mysterious man’s profile. 
Your mind wanders to Nu Chi Theta. They’ve got quite a few weed lovers there, and you’ve been invited into many closed-room smoke sessions with the dirty NCT boys. 
There’s Yuta, and he’d definitely have the gall to entertain a flirtation like this. However, you don’t know of any mutual friends who would ever set you up with him. With another sigh of irritation, you throw out the last name on your shortlist of stoner acquaintances. 
“Hyuck? Please tell me this isn’t you.”
“Close but no cigar.” 
“I don’t like this game.”
“You’re not supposed to like it, but it is entertaining, don’t you think?”
“What’s your angle with all of this?” you question. “If you’re not going to tell me who you are, then what’s the point of calling?”
The line is silent for a few moments. “I guess… I just wanted to talk to you a little, is that so bad?”
Your heart softens, if only momentarily. “Then grow some balls and ask me out like a real man.”
“Where would be the fun in that?” The mystery man lets out a short chuckle, and your irritation only grows. 
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re really annoying?”
“A few times actually.”
“Well, you’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met and I haven’t even met you.”
“Yes, you have.”
“God, I’m tired of this. Goodnight.” 
You don’t even wait for an answer, you simply hang up.
Despite trying to get back to your movie, you can’t get the mystery man out of your head. When you go to bed you can’t even sleep, your mind completely full of all the possibilities of who your caller could have been. 
You’ll have to do some digging tomorrow. You can’t not figure out who this guy is- and you know just the fratboy to give you all the details you could need.
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Monday
Mark Lee is always fifteen minutes early, even when it comes to an 8am class. You feel like shit after tossing and turning all night, so when you slide into the seat next to him in the back of the class, he gives you a once over and his lips part in shock.
“Are you okay?”
“No, Mark, I’m not okay,” you snap, regretting it a moment later- after all, Mark’s not the one doing this to you. “Someone called me from an unknown number last night. A frat guy, I’m not sure who. He was using this voice modulator-”
“That sounds hella sketchy.”
“Super sketchy,” you agree. 
“I know it’s October and everything, but that’s a weird way to hit on a girl.”
“That’s what I said!” Mark always understands you. “He said a mutual friend gave him my number, thought we’d be cute together or something- whoever it was, I need to strangle them.”
“Is this friend a girl or a guy?”
“Mystery man wouldn’t tell me,” you groan.
“So… this dude could be literally anyone.”
“Not Yunho from Alpha Tappa Zeta, Jeonghan from Sigma Veta Tau, and not your roommate Hyuck. The guy gave me three guesses,” you explain, “the hint is that he’s a stoner.”  
“Lots of frat guys are stoners.”
“Exactly,” you sigh, leaning back in your seat. 
“What are you going to do if he calls you again?” Mark asks. “This kind of feels like stalker behavior.”
“It does,” you admit. “But at the same time, he calls me Tiny, and he says we’ve met before- when I asked what he even got out of the phonecall he said he just wanted to ‘talk to me a little,’ which, I don’t know, for some reason I feel like he’s not a stalker.” 
Mark gives you a look that says ‘You’re crazy,’ and after listening to everything that just spewed out of your own mouth, maybe you kind of agree with him.
 “So if he calls you again…” Mark reasks his earlier question, one you’d chosen to ignore.
But you can’t ignore it now, and you let out a deep breath.
“If he calls again… We’ll see what happens.”
“Tiny-”
“Mark,” you counter, knowing he’s about to chastise you. But you don’t want to hear it. If even he doesn’t have any idea of who your mystery caller could be, you simply can’t give up. If you never find out who this ‘Ghost Face’ dude is, you’ll feel unsolved for the rest of your life and you know it.
“Look, I’ll ask around a little,” Mark concedes.
You let out a squeal of delight, throwing your arms around your closet fratboy friend. He lets out a chuckle, gently squeezing you back. 
Mark’s a good guy. 
If only you were into good guys and not sleazy stoners calling you while getting a hard-on for being Ghost Face.
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Monday pt 2
It’s nine o'clock and you’re starting to get tired while you study. You’re in need of a distraction, so when your phone rings with an unknown number, your heart practically jumps into your throat.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Tiny.”
“Wow, Mister Ghost Face,” you laugh, twirling in your spinny chair, “two nights in a row. You must really like me, huh?”
The laugh he lets out sounds genuine, even though his voice is obscured still. For some reason, the noise makes you grin, and you can’t believe you’re actually kind of having fun with this.
“I do like you,” the mystery man confirms. “Tell me about your day.”
“Tell you about my day?” You’re in shock.
“Uh huh.”
“No teasing or nothing? No three guesses about your identity?” 
“I’ll tell you what,” he lets out a sigh, “like you said, Halloween is in a week. If you keep letting me call you until then, I’ll reveal myself when you come to the party.”
“The party?” you repeat. “You make it sound like there’s only one frat party on Halloween.”
“Only one worth going to.”
“Is that so?” He’s so cocky- why does that turn you on? 
“Yup. In fact, I know you agree with me on this, because the past two Halloweens, you’ve come to my frat.” 
Your body freezes. He’s just given you a massive hint-
“So you’re an NCT boy?”
“Wouldn’t call myself a boy, and neither would you if you saw what's in my pants.” 
You swallow the lump in your throat, not sure how to even respond to the suggestive comment he’s just made. 
The man on the other end of the line lets out a chuckle. “Sorry, I’m two blunts deep. I should watch what I say to you, that's why I asked about your day.”
“You don’t have to- watch what you say, I mean.”
“Yeah?” You can almost picture him leaning back in a chair, a large half-chub growing in his pants- “Are you getting horny from a mystery man on your phone? Dirty girl.”
“Dirty guy,” you counter, “trying to entice me by saying your dick is big.”
“Well, it worked, didn’t it?”
“I’m intrigued,” you admit, “but not only because of your cock.”
“It’s a nice cock.”
“Okay, I’ll tell you about my day,” you sidestep. “Had an early class with Mark Lee, you must know Mark.”
“Of course.”
“Well, he has no clue who you could be.”
“You talked about me.” 
You can hear him smiling. 
“I bet you couldn’t even sleep last night. Too busy trying to figure out who I am.”
Okay, maybe he is a bit of a stalker. Or maybe he just knows you well… who the fuck is this guy?
“Stop being so cocky,” you insist.
“Tell me I’m wrong.” 
“Mark told me you’re probably a stalker, said I should maybe block your number.”
“I don’t have a number, if I did, that would be too easy for you. I’m an unknown caller… can you even block unknown callers?” 
“I guess we’ll find out when I block you.”
“Won’t happen though. What did you do after your class with Mark?”
“Are you really that interested in my day?” 
“I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t interested.”
He’s a cocky softy, who would have imagined. 
You wonder what you ever did to make this guy so sweet on you- you’ve dated men who don’t even care to ask you how your day went, and this guy is out here doing it practically for free.
“Classes were okay, my sorority had a little fundraiser at lunch, we baked cupcakes.”
“They were good cupcakes.” 
“Wait…” your stomach churns a little. “You stopped by?”
“I’m a sucker for cupcakes, and how cute your butt looks in blue jeans.”
You search your memory, counting how many NCT boys came through around lunch. You realize that there were far too many for it to do any good in deciphering which one is the man you’re currently talking to.
“Did we talk?”
“You talked to everyone who bought something. I’m not special.”
Except… he kind of is special, in a way you can’t truly explain… not yet anyways.
“Maybe you are a stalker,” you decide.
“I can promise you I’m not, but I bet you’d be kind of into it if I was.”
This guy makes you feel such conflicting emotions, you’re not sure how to even handle him.
“Look, I was studying when you called-”
“Right, you should get back to that.”
“I should.”
“Sleep tight, Tiny. It’s been nice talking to you.”
Part of you wants to return the sentiment, it feels second nature, but the words stop on your tongue. In all fairness, it hasn’t been particularly nice talking to the mystery Ghost Face guy. 
Instead of saying anything else, you simply hit him with a “Bye,” and you hang up the phone.
However, you don’t get back to studying, you immediately call Mark.
He sounds groggy as he says “Hello?”
“Did I wake you?”
“No.”
“I just got a call from that guy again. He’s definitely one of your frat brothers, and he’s high right now.”
“That doesn’t narrow it down,” Mark sighs. “We sort of uh… all got high at the fire after dinner.”
“Mark Lee!” you screech.
“Sorry, sorry!” Mark groans. “I’ll uh… ask around some more. We’ll figure out who this dude is.”
“And if we don’t… he said he’d tell me who he is at your frat Halloween bash at the end of the week.” 
It’s Monday now, and the party is on Saturday. That means you’ll only have to wait a few days… you can hold out for a few days… can’t you?
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Tuesday
You read over the email a third time, but it doesn’t make anything better. The words ‘We regret to inform you that you have not been chosen for the position’ make your eyes begin to well with tears.
Quickly exiting your phone, you grab your things. You refuse to cry in the middle of the library-
The bathroom will have to do the trick, and you hurry to get there, holding back the choked sob that longs to slip out of you.
You’d thought for sure this interview would land you a job on campus. The interview had gone well, or so you’d thought.
You don’t even know why you’re getting so upset about this. 
There’s just something so devastating about rejection. 
You get to the bathroom quickly, shutting yourself into a stall before you allow the tears to fall again. You cradle your face in your hands, allowing the sadness to overwhelm you.
It’s important to have a good cry every now and again, and you definitely need this.
Your cries, however, are interrupted by your phone ringing in your pocket. Wiping at your face, you reach for the device, lifting it to your ear.
“Hello?”
“Are you okay?” 
“I really don’t have time for this right now, Ghost-” you groan, closing your eyes at the familiar voice-modulated sound.
“You do have time,” he insists. “Tell me what happened.”
“What do you mean?”
“I just saw you running through the library. Looked like you were crying.”
“I wasn’t crying!” you nearly yell. 
“Liar. Come on, Tiny, let Ghostie make you feel better.”
The affectionate-sounding nickname prompts you to wipe your eyes. “Are you sure you’re not a stalker?”
“I was in the library, don’t get your panties in a twist.”
“Was?”
“I’m gone now, can’t have you figuring out who I am before Halloween.”
“Would it really be so bad if I did?” you question. “It would make me feel better.”
“Look at you, using your bad experience to try to swindle me,” you hear him laugh, and there are more sounds now, as if he’s walking across campus. “Seriously, Tiny, tell me what’s going on.”
“Do you always walk around campus with a voice modulator?”
“It’s an app on my phone babe, now answer my question.” 
“You didn’t ask a question, you commanded me to tell you what happened, and I’m not taking commands right now.”
He sighs. “Will you please tell me what’s making you cry?”
Your lower lip trembles. “It’s stupid.”
“Nothing that hurts you is stupid.”
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
“It looked like you needed a friend.”
“You’re not my friend. You’re some guy who got my number and gets hard by pretending to be Ghost Face from Scream.”
“I could be your friend. Could be more than your friend. And I’m not hard right now. Not after seeing you cry.” 
You take a breath. “I applied for a job and I uh… they didn’t hire me.”
“Then they’re stupid.”
“Maybe I’m stupid.”
“Don’t say that.”
“I’m a girl who’s spent three days talking to a guy who keeps his identity a secret, and for some crazy reason, you’re actually making me feel better. That definitely makes me stupid.”
“No, it makes you soft. It’s one of the things I like about you.”
“Yeah?” you sniffle. “What else? And don’t say my ass in blue jeans.”
The man chuckles. “You’re soft, and kind. But you’re a fighter too. You’ve got a spark. Don’t even get me started on how smart you are-”
“And how would you know how smart I am?”
“For starters, you’re in the top-scoring sorority on campus,” he points out. “Whenever you come to trivia night, you wipe the floor with all of us. Mark talks constantly about how much you help him with his classes, which brings me to my next point, you care about charity. That’s a great sign of your character.” 
“You do know a lot about me, don’t you, Ghostie?” His words have stopped your tears, and you cradle your phone close to your ear. 
“Still not a stalker though.”
Now he even has you laughing. “Jury’s still out on that one.”
“You sound better already,” he muses. “Mark has a free block right now, I’m sure if you call him he’d take you for ice cream or something to distract you.”
“That’s a good idea,” you admit.
“I’m full of good ideas.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it, Tiny.”
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Tuesday pt 2
“This guy sounds like a full-on stalker,” Mark says for the sixth time as you grab ice cream and sit inside while a storm passes, rain splattering the windows.
“I mean, if he knew your schedule, I’m guessing he’s someone close to you.”
“He’s stalking us both, I don’t like it.”
“But he’s nice.”
“He’s stalking you, Tiny!” 
“He’s not!” you insist. “A lot of people were at the library today… honestly, I think… I think Ghostie is kind of sweet.”
“Ghostie?!” Mark stares at you in shock. “You’re calling him Ghostie now?”
“It’s cute, right?”
“It’s crazy is what it is!” Mark leans back in his seat, frowning. “This is giving me the creeps.”
“Well, it’s spooky season.”
“If I’m being honest, I don’t think any of my frat brothers would pull crazy shit like this. They’re mostly pretty chill dudes.”
“So you think he’s lying about being in NCT?” you ask, cocking your head to the side.
“I think he’s definitely lying,” Mark confirms.
“Well, agree to disagree.”
Mark studies you for a moment. “Look, the only guy who’s a freak like this is Yuta and he swore up and down to me yesterday that he’s not calling you with a fucking voice modulator.” 
“I don’t think this is Yuta.”
“Because you’re a Ghostie expert now, huh?” He scoffs loudly.
“Yuta’s not really a stoner,” you point out. “And besides, I can’t explain why I know it’s not him, I just have a feeling.”
“Yeah, is that feeling in your pussy by any chance?” 
“Mark Lee!” you gasp, scandalized by his choice of words. 
“Be real with me!” he insists. “You wouldn’t be entertaining this if it wasn’t… I don’t know, turning you on? Are you turned on by stalkers? Is this why you like Halloween so much?”
“Okay, maybe I am turned on, but that doesn’t make me a bad person.”
“It just makes you crazy,” Mark groans, running a hand through his hair. “I swear to God, when the dude reveals himself at the frat party, it better be one of my frat brothers and not a serial killer. And also, I’m going to fight him.”
“Something tells me he’d beat you,” you giggle.
“Now you’re trying to make me feel bad.”
“Says the guy who just called me crazy.” You grin, knowing that you’ve won.
“This whole thing is crazy.”
He has a point about that.
Wednesday
You’ve been waiting all day for a call from Ghostie, and it comes right before you’re about to head to bed. You practically launch yourself at your phone, putting it on speaker and saying “Hello?” as if you don’t know who’s on the other end of the line.
“Hey you, feeling better today?”
“You tell me, mister stalker.”
“I haven’t actually seen you today, it was a bit of a shame if I’m being honest.”
“Yeah?” God, this man has way too much power over you. “And why’s that, Ghostie?”
“Because I’ve been looking at your Instagram, but you’re cuter in person.”
“Do you follow me?” 
“We’re mutuals.” 
You’re mutuals with pretty much the entire NCT frat, it would have been more helpful if he’d said he’s not a follower, although, now that you think of it, that had always been unlikely. 
“Still trying to figure out who I am, aren’t you, Tiny?”
“Of course.”
“Remember when I was listing your good qualities? Patience wasn’t one of them.” 
“That’s so rude of you,” you say, although, you’re grinning at your phone.
“Here, I’ll make it better. I have an idea for you.”
“Let’s hear it then.” You get comfortable on your bed, wondering what he’s about to say.
“If you want a job, there’s this bar on campus, Skeets. Have you heard of it?”
“Who hasn’t heard of Skeets?” You roll your eyes. 
“They let just about anyone work there. A few of the NCT guys are bartenders, I’m sure they’d put a good word in for you with the hiring manager, he’s also a member of the frat.” 
You haven’t been to Skeets in ages, and you try to remember who you know amongst the staff. “Wait, you’re right- doesn’t Hyuck work there?”
“He does… This is the second time you’ve mentioned him, got something of a crush, Tiny?”
“Would that make you jealous?” you tease.
“I’m not the jealous type,” he states. “But yeah… it would.”
“Don’t get your Ghost Face mask in a knot, I don’t have a crush on Hyuck. In fact, if you turn out to be Hyuck and I find out you lied to me about your identity, I’m going to be really mad.” 
“I’m not Hyuck.”
“Good.” You consider his proposition for a moment. “Do you really think they’d hire me?”
“It doesn’t hurt to try.”
“You know, on Sunday, if someone had told me you’d be helping me find a job not three days later, I would have said they were crazy.”
“Guess I like to keep you on your toes.”
“I think you just have a major soft spot for me. Tell me I’m wrong.”
“I can’t. I promised not to lie to you.” 
God, he makes you so giddy it’s insane. 
“Are you going to come stalk me at Skeets if they give me a job?”
“Goodnight, Tiny.” He’s avoiding the question, and you can hear him grinning through the phone.
“Night, Ghostie.”
It’s the first time he’s the one to hang up on you, and it leaves you wanting more.
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Thursday
Ghostie had assured you that Skeets hires just about anyone, but that doesn’t help the anxiety building inside of you as you prepare to take your resume into the bar. 
You even do a Wonderwoman pose outside while waiting for Skeets to open, breathing deeply to psych yourself up while you go over possible interview questions just in case the hiring manager wants a chit-chat today.
“I love working in a team environment,” you say quietly to yourself, closing your eyes and running through responses. “The most important thing is that the guests feel welcome.”
The sound of something dragging across the cement ground has you practically jumping, lids flashing open as your head whips toward the noise.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt your mantra,” the tall fratboy laughs, setting up the wooden sign with the daily drink menu just in front of the door to the bar.
“It’s fine,” you assure him, swallowing thickly. 
The man in front of you is Johnny Suh. He’s two years older than you, and you know him through Mark. When guys join a frat, they’re assigned a ‘Big,’ an elder frat brother to guide them through the process. Johnny is Mark’s big, and he’s always been nice to you whenever you’ve crossed paths.
You would call Johnny an acquaintance, not a friend, but he’s still a friendlier face than you may have expected to see upon your first moments interacting with Skeets staff. 
“You coming inside, Tiny?” Johnny asks.
“Yeah, sorry John, one sec, I just need another deep breath.” You wave your hand at him, turning your back and gulping down air while you hold your bag tight to your front, the resume within practically burning a hole in the leather.
The hot fratboy heads back inside and you finish calming yourself down. 
You can do this. You can get this job.
As you enter the bar that’s just open, you realize there are only a few staff members kicking around so far. Kim Jungwoo is rearranging chairs, and Lee Donghyuck is sitting on a table looking at his phone. Johnny Suh is behind the bar, and you decide you should probably talk to him, so you try to act confident as you walk through the small establishment.
Johnny’s brown eyes raise as you approach, and he offers you a small smile. “Tough day?”
“What?” You blink at him, settling against the bartop.
“You looked kind of off outside, and most people don’t come in to day-drink this early.”
“Oh, uh… I’m not here to day-drink.” You let out a tiny laugh. “Actually, I came to see if you guys were looking to hire new staff members, I brought my resume.”
You reach into your bag to pull out the papers, and you hand them over to Johnny.
His eyes scan the first sheet. “Wow, a cover letter, I’ve actually never seen one of these.”
People don’t apply with cover letters? The idea is kind of shocking to you.
Johnny hardly looks at your resume, setting it down in front of him to address you instead. “What makes you want to work at Skeets?”
“In all honesty, I need a job. I’m dependable, and I’ve got a decent schedule to work in the food service industry. I like working as part of a team, and I’m already friends with a lot of the staff here, so I thought it might be a good fit.”
Johnny nods, assessing you. “Have you bartended before?”
“I’ve got my qualifications to serve alcohol, but I’ve mostly had waitressing jobs,” you admit.
“At Skeets, we all do a bit of everything. Would you be open to learning how to mix drinks?”
“I’d be very open to it,” you nod. 
“Then let’s give it a shot,” Johnny smiles warmly at you. “You’ve got good timing, we actually just had to let go of someone for excessive drinking on the job. I was going to put a wanted ad up today, but looks like that won’t be necessary.”
“Are you…” you swallow thickly, “are you serious? I’m hired?”
“Yeah, why not?” 
You can’t help the squeal of delight that rushes through you, and a massive grin makes its way onto your face. You even jump a little, and Johnny seems to enjoy your excitement, smiling from ear to ear while you celebrate. 
“When can you start?” he asks next.
“I can start tomorrow! I mean, if you need me that soon.”
“Tomorrow is a big night here at Skeets, the Friday before Halloween. We could use the hands, but it will be a busy one, do you think you can handle that?”
You’re quick to nod. “Of course. But I uh… I should let you know, I can’t work Halloween, I promised a friend I’d meet them at your frat for the party.”
“Don’t worry about Saturday,” Johnny assures you. “Sigma Veta Tau has their frat party tonight, so it’s all us NCT guys working, and tomorrow we’ll switch. As much as Seungcheol is a good comanager, I don’t trust him to teach you how to mix drinks on Halloween.”
“So… you’re going to be the main person training me then?” you ask.
“If you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself,” he confirms. 
You can’t help but beam up at the tall frat boy, overjoyed at this turn of events. As cute as Johnny is though, part of you is excited to tell Ghostie about this when he inevitably calls you tonight. 
Your life is definitely a little crazy.
“So, how about you come in tomorrow at seven?” Johnny suggests. “The bar will be open past midnight, but I figure I can show you a few things before it gets busy around ten, and then I can let you go early.”
“I’ll be here at seven.”
“And when it comes to what you’re wearing, we’ll give you a Skeets t-shirt,” he pulls at the black fabric stretched tight across his broad chest. “Other than that, you can wear any color of jeans and some sneakers.”
“Perfect.”
“You’ll be paid for the training shift, I’ll tip you out in cash, and if it goes well, we’ll get your banking details at your next shift after that,” Johnny explains. “I’ve got your number here on your resume, so I’ll be in contact with you on Sunday, how’s that sound?”
“Sounds like a dream.” You literally can’t stop smiling.
“Tiny’s going to learn to mix,” Johnny says fondly, “Mark’s going to love this.”
You already feel close to Mark’s big, and the opportunity to work with him is a good one. Johnny is one of the more well-known nice guys at the frat. Sure, he’s got a little bit of a dangerous edge to him, just based on his massive stature alone, but he’s generally a big softy bear. 
“Thanks again for this, Johnny,” you beam. “I won’t let you down.”
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Thursday pt 2
“Hyuck said our favorite Tiny sorority princess got herself a job today.” 
“Hello to you too, Ghostie.”
“I wanted to cut to the chase and congratulate you.”
“I wouldn’t have gotten the job without you,” you admit. “So… thank you.”
“Don’t mention it,” your mystery man says, and you can hear that classic grin of his. “I’m sure you got it on your own merit.”
“Apparently no one’s ever brought a cover letter with their resume before.”
“They must have been impressed.” 
“Hired me on the spot.”
“That’s my girl.” 
Your insides flutter. You like the way it sounds when he calls you his girl. “How about your day, Ghostie? Stalk any new girls?”
He laughs. “Only one girl worth stalking, which, I don’t do, by the way.”
“Sure you don’t.”
“My day was long,” he says finally.
“Yeah, it’s nearly midnight, I was thinking about going to sleep but…”
“But you wanted me to call,” Ghostie finishes your sentence for you.
“When you say it like that it sounds kind of depressing.”
“It’s not depressing, Tiny, it’s cute.”
“Cute?” 
“I like that you’re getting used to me.”
“You know… if you decided not to show up to the Halloween party- if you never called again, I think… I’d wonder who you are the rest of my life.” It’s a moment of vulnerability, and your heart races in your chest while you wait for his response. 
“I wouldn’t do that to you, Tiny,” Ghostie promises. “I’ll find you on Saturday, and not in a stalker way.”
“What costume are you going to be wearing?” 
“If I tell you, you’ll just show up and scour the whole place looking for me.”
“You know me too well, don’t you, Ghostie?”
“What are you going to wear, pretty girl?”
You literally kick your feet at the term of endearment, body buzzing. It takes a moment to collect yourself. “Honestly? I’ve got a Ghost Face mask hanging around somewhere.”
“And here I was being told I’m the one who gets hard pretending to be Ghost Face.” 
“Well… even though I don’t know you, not really, I think I got that one pretty accurate, didn’t I?”
“Maybe a little.”
“I thought you said you were big,” you tease.
“Okay, maybe a lot.”
You bite at your lip. After the great day you’ve had, it’s difficult not to feel flirty. “Are you hard right now, big guy?”
He groans, and even under the voice modulator, something tells you the sounds he makes are sexy as fuck. You can feel your panties getting wet. It’s dirty, but in the best possible way.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” you grin.
“You’re being bad, Tiny.”
“Says the guy who’s literally hard right now.”
The other end of the line is silent for a moment. “Can I ask you something?”
“You can ask me anything.”
“What if… when we meet, you’re not interested in me?”
Well, this has just taken a turn. How did you go from horny thoughts to insecurity? 
It’s a valid question though, one you should have asked yourself by now, but for some reason you haven’t. You think about it for a few seconds. 
“I feel like… I know it’s been less than a week of talking but, you’re not like any other guy I’ve ever met. And not just because you’re calling with a voice modulator.” You let out a laugh. “You ask how my day is, and you care to hear my answer. You even helped me get a job, which is crazy to think about. For some weird reason, I think when I meet you, the emotional connection is already kind of there, so no matter what you look like, you’ll be more attractive to me.”
“You really think so?” 
“I mean, NCT is known for having hot guys, so I’m not sure who you could be that would turn me off. There are only a few NCT guys I’d say a hard no to at the moment.”
“Yeah? Who?” 
“Well, Doyoung and I have never gotten along, but I know you’re not him because he doesn’t touch weed. I dated Jeno for about a week, and I know enough about him to know I don’t want to do anything with him ever again, and also, that you’re not Jeno because he’d never ask me how my day was going-”
“What an asshole.”
You laugh. “All things considered, Ghostie, I think you’ll do just fine.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“Is this why you’ve been doing the whole voice modulator thing? You’re worried I won’t be interested in you?”
“It’s one of the reasons,” Ghostie admits. “I also worried that if I did hit on you, you might think I was only trying to get you into my bed, which, yeah, it would be nice, but… as perfect as your body is, it’s not the most interesting thing about you.”
What a scrumptious take; A guy calling you up and using anonymity to prove to you that this connection isn’t only about sex. 
Your heart softens.
“Ghostie, you might be one of the sweetest guys I know,” you admit.
“More than your best friend Mark Lee?”
You laugh. “Maybe not, Mark would never do something like this. You’re a bit of a paradox that way, aren’t you?”
“If you say so, Tiny. As much as I’ve liked this talk, I think I should let you sleep. Halloween is two days away and I’m sure we’ve both got a lot to do before then.”
“What if I don’t want you to go just yet?”
“Then I’d remind you that patience is a virtue.”
“You’re such a tease.”
“Good thing we have an emotional connection so you’ll forgive me for it. Night, Tiny.”
“Night, Ghostie.” 
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Friday 
Your first shift consists of shadowing Johnny. He’s a fabulous teacher. He’s calm, patient, and very encouraging. The first few hours are a breeze, but the bar gets increasingly packed as the night goes on.
It’s a little overwhelming, but Johnny helps keep you steady. He gives you the easy drink orders, things like beer and simple cocktails. While you’re filling a cup from the beer tap, he’s busy mixing five to ten different things into one glass for items on the Halloween special menu.
There’s something sexy about a diligent worker, and his beefy arms are all bulgy and hot in his tight Skeets shirt. You can tell that a lot of girls come up to the bar specifically to order from him. There are two other bartenders, but Johnny’s line is notably the longest.
You’ve had your own share of interested men pop over to say hi. There are very few frat boys here tonight, as there’s a party in full swing in the Greek village, so most of the guys coming up to grab a beer from you are people you don’t know.
Many of them are dressed up in costumes, and it’s interesting to try to guess some of the more obscure clothing choices.
Anytime you see a man in a ghost costume, your mind shifts to your mystery caller. You wonder if he’ll pop by tonight- but other than the men already working with you, no NCT boys walk through the front door. 
No Ghostie.
There’s not one second of reprieve, but staff need breaks, and finally, just before midnight, Johnny pulls you both for a breather. 
“Are you sure the others can keep up while we’re gone?” you ask, looking back at the swamped bartenders.
“They can manage,” he assures you, guiding you through the back staffroom to a door that leads to an alleyway behind the bar. “I know I’ve kept you on longer than I thought, but it’s just been so busy. How are you holding up?”
The cool night air is a drastic difference from the heat and humidity inside, and you take a deep breath, closing your eyes and enjoying it. “I’m doing alright,” you tell him. “You’re the one making the difficult drinks.”
“I’ve been mixing cocktails for years,” he brushes it off, reaching into his back pocket. 
“Well, it shows.” You watch to see him pull out a rolled joint, and next comes a lighter.
“Want some?” he asks, lifting the joint to slot between his perfect lips. 
“Are we allowed to smoke on the job?” 
“Hyuck was prescribed Vyvanse last year, so he’s practically on coke all shift,” Johnny grins, lighting the end of the joint and taking a puff. “Besides,” he lets out a deep breath of smoke, “in the service industry, sometimes you need a little buffer.”
Skeets really is a chill place if the hiring manager smokes weed on breaks with subordinates. 
“I didn’t realize you were a stoner,” you muse.
“Most of us frat boys are,” Johnny admits, pulling the joint from between his lips. It’s placed casually between two fingers, and his other hand ruffles through his pretty hair. “It’s a nice night.”
“It is,” you nod, looking up at the sky. Stars are twinkling in the dark
“I’m glad you joined the team, not sure we would have been doing so well without your extra set of hands.”
“I’m really grateful to have been given a trial shift,” you smile softly.
“Well, just so you know, it’s more than a trial shift. You’re hired.” He nudges your shoulder gently, and your grin only grows.
“Thank you.”
Johnny takes another drag from his joint. “Sure you don’t want a puff?”
“I really shouldn’t-”
“I’m going to let you go home pretty soon after this,” Johnny tells you. “So it won’t affect your performance that much.”
You wonder if this is a test, but… at the same time, you don’t think Johnny’s the type of guy to test you this way. 
You give in, accepting the joint and bringing it to your lips. It’s been a while since you smoked one of these, and your first tiny hit leaves you coughing, passing the joint back to Johnny while you try to catch your breath.
He grins while watching you, and you get the sneaking suspicion that Johnny thinks you’re cute. 
“Thank you,” you say, coughing again.
“You’ve got good manners, don’t ya, Tiny?”
You nod, wiping at the tears that have formed in your eyes from the smoke. 
“Who... who do you usually smoke with?” you ask.
“Why? You a cop?” Johnny jokes.
“No, it’s just uh… God, I could tell you the whole story but you wouldn’t even believe me if I did,” you find yourself laughing. “Just… I didn’t know you smoked, so, I’m wondering if maybe there are a few other guys in your circle who do too.”
Johnny looks you up and down. “Like I said earlier, Tiny, almost all us frat boys partake in mari-ju-ana.”
It’s clear he’s not going to give you any information that could help you figure out who your Ghostie is. You suppose you really will just have to be patient.
In less than twenty-four hours, you’ll be finding out who your mystery caller is, and the suspense is absolutely killing you.
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Friday pt 2
It’s twelve thirty when you finally get home, and you’re very tired. But at the same time, you’re awake. You take your time getting ready for bed, ignoring the loud party sounds outside and around the frat village while you wait for a call from Ghostie.
As one am rolls around, you start to realize that maybe tonight you won’t get a call.
He is a frat boy, and this is Halloween weekend. 
You’re disappointed as you get into bed, frowning as you scroll on your phone, hoping that if you wait another five minutes, maybe he’ll catch you. 
Five minutes turn into ten, turn into fifteen, and you find your eyes beginning to shut.
You’re starting to understand how much you truly have come to depend on Ghostie as part of your nightly ritual. It hurts not to get a call from your favourite voice-modulated anonymous frat boy.
You try to self-soothe by assuring yourself you’ll meet him tomorrow, but it doesn’t really help. 
Tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable, you fall into a blissless sleep.
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Saturday 
You’re groggy when you open your eyes, but you still go to check your phone. There’s a missed call notification from an unknown number at three am, and suddenly you’re wide awake, bolting up in bed.
“Hey, Tiny, it’s me.”
As if it could be anyone else.
“Sorry I didn’t get a chance to call you last night. I was pretty swamped with Halloween stuff. But if it makes you feel any better, you were definitely on my mind.”
Here you are kicking your feet again.
“Probably won’t get a chance to talk to you until the party, I really do hope you come… in uh… more ways than one.”
God, he makes you wet.
“I get it if you’re a little mad at me for not calling earlier, and I promise to make it up to you when I see you, if you’ll let me.”
He’s so oddly respectful.
“But I get it if you don’t want to do anything at the party. I’ve enjoyed talking with you this week, and if that’s all it’s going to be then I won’t hold it against you. Anyways, goodnight, see you soon.”
Saturday pt 2
You feel cute tonight. You’d taken your Ghost Face mask off almost as soon as entering the frat, but the little black dress you’re wearing is enough to capture a lot of attention. 
Every frat boy that comes up to you makes your heart race, but none of them reveal themselves as your Ghostie. 
You’re actually beginning to get a little frustrated, and after two hours of floating around hoping to find your mystery man, you head with Mark to his room for a break.
Mark’s roommate, Hyuck, is sitting on his bed, bong already out and resting on one thigh while scrolls through his phone. He looks up when you enter, smirking. “Finally, smoking buddies.”
“You texted me like two minutes ago to come up here,” Mark rolls his eyes. “Have some patience.”
“Not in my nature,” Hyuck insists, setting his phone down and reaching for his lighter. “First hit is mine.”
As if you expected anything less. 
You watch him inhale the thick cloud of smoke, holding it for a moment in his lungs before he lets out a deep exhale. “Fucking hell, he groans, that was a good hit.” 
Mark takes the bong and Hyuck falls flat against the bed, closing his eyes and smiling.
“So have you found your stalker yet, Tiny?” Hyuck asks.
Your gaze flashes to Mark. “You told him?”
“He was curious why I was asking for a stoner list,” Mark defends himself. 
“Whoever the dude is, he’s got balls,” Hyuck says wistfully. 
There’s a knock on the door, and Jaehyun pokes his head inside. “Heard we’re smoking?”
“Yeah, come in!” Hyuck waves his hand, still collapsed on his bed.
The door is pushed open wider, and you catch sight of Johnny standing behind Jaehyun. Your new hiring manager flashes you a wink as they enter, and the door is shut firmly behind them. Jaehyun goes to sit with Hyuck, but Johnny approaches you, taking the seat next to you on Mark’s bed. 
“How’s your night going?” Johnny asks.
“She’s waiting for her stalker to come kidnap her and fuck her brains out,” Hyuck says loudly.
“Your stalker?” Johnny laughs.
“Some guy has been calling her all week,” Mark tries to explain.
“It sounds worse than it is,” you insist, feeling the need to defend Ghostie. “He’s only a little perverted.” 
“And you’re into that sort of thing?” Jaehyun questions, cocking his head while Mark takes a puff from the bong and hands it over.
“Not usually,” you admit. “But… this guy is different.”
“You don’t even know what he looks like,” Mark groans, collapsing in his desk chair and running an anxious hand through his hair.
“That doesn’t matter,” you insist. 
“Fucking girls, dude,” Hyuck laughs, sitting up and watching Jaehyun smoke from the bong. “You know what we need?”
“More weed?” Mark suggests.
“Yes, but also, shots.” Hyuck’s eyes shift to Johnny. “Not the shit from downstairs. The good stuff.”
Johnny lets out a chuckle. “You want something from my secret stash?”
“The tequila you brought back from Mexico,” Hyuck nods.
Jaehyun lets out a puff of smoke, holding the bong out for Johnny, who shakes his head. 
“You’re not taking a hit?” Jaehyun asks, staring at Johnny in hazy shock.
“Not tonight,” Johnny responds. Then he turns to you. “If neither of us are taking a crack at the bong, how about you come help me grab the tequila?”
“Careful, John,” Hyuck teases, “She’s not interested in you, she only has eyes for this Ghostie dude.”
Mark shoves Hyuck’s knee and Johnny simply grins. “Come on Tiny, you don’t want to get secondhand high on a night like this.”
He’s right about that, and you stand with him, heading to the door. Johnny’s so tall and broad, and you try not to stare at his shoulders, but it’s extremely difficult not to appreciate his large form. 
“What’s your costume?” you ask. 
“Oh, this?” He pulls casually at his black tshirt. “I’m a serial killer, they look like everyone else.”
“Very original,” you laugh, falling into step with the tall fratboy as you make your way down the crowded hall. 
“My room is on the top floor,” he tells you, heading to the stairwell and holding the door open for you. “I like your dress, by the way.”
“Thanks, it goes with this.” You hold up the Ghost Face mask to show it to him, and his grin widens while you climb the stairs.
“You’re gonna have to let me try that on.”
“I’m uh… I’m actually saving it for Ghostie to try,” you admit, feeling a little silly with how loyal you’re being to your mystery caller.
“He’s a lucky guy,” Johnny muses.
“Here’s to hoping it goes well,” you sigh.
Johnny doesn’t respond to your comment, and as you reach the top floor he guides you three rooms down, using a key to unlock the door before he holds it open for you. “After you, Tiny.”
The space is the same size as Hyuck and Mark’s, but it only has one bed. “I didn’t realize they had single rooms here,” you say, looking around. 
“There’s only a few, and I’ve got seniority,” Johnny explains. He closes the door behind him, walking over to the large closet. 
You take in the decorations. It’s unmistakably a frat boy's room, but much cleaner than you’re used to. There’s a gaming station, and a mini fridge that you’d guess is full of beer. A clothing rack shows off some of Johnny’s more sophisticated tastes. 
You’re curious about what else he has in his stash, so you join him by the closet, peeking inside. “We’re looking for tequila right?”
God, he has a whole shelf full of expensive bottles of booze. 
“Uh huh,” Johnny nods. “Should be in the back here somewhere.”
“Isn’t this tequila?” you ask, pointing to a bottle he’s brushed past.
“Close,” Johnny flashes a grin at you before continuing to rummage, “but no cigar.” 
You freeze. 
It’s been nearly a week since your first interaction with Ghostie, but you remember that interesting turn of phrase like it was yesterday. 
But- it can’t be. 
Johnny can’t be your mystery caller-
Can he?
“Found it,” Johnny announces, pulling an immaculate bottle of tequila out. His gaze lands on you. “You alright, Tiny? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I mean… have I?” 
He cocks his head. “What do you mean?”
“You’re…” You swallow thickly. “Are you my Ghostie?”
Johnny meets your gaze with a steady look. “Does it upset you?”
It’s not a clear confirmation, but it’s a confirmation nonetheless. 
You stare at him in absolute shock for a moment. He looks insanely gorgeous tonight, all broad, with his pretty lips- without even knowing what you’re doing, you find yourself throwing your arms around him and burying your face against his chest.
Johnny freezes, obviously startled by the sudden contact, but then he’s wrapping you in a tight embrace. One of his hands finds the back of your head, and he cradles you close.
Neither of you say anything, you simply hold each other while you come to terms with everything. 
He’s so stupid for ever thinking you wouldn’t want him-
You do want him. You want him so bad-
Pulling away from his chest, you tilt your chip up, reaching for his face. You cup his cheek while you move on your tiptoes to press your lips against his.
He appears just as shocked at this movement as when you’d hugged him, but he eases into it all the same, kissing you back gently.
But you don’t want gentle, you want him.
You’re pent up from a week of teasing, and you shift in his embrace, wrapping both arms around the back of his neck while you glide your tongue against his lip. 
Johnny lets out a groan, his mouth opening for you while his hands slip down to tug your waist closer.
The kiss deepens and now it’s your turn to release a moan, pressing your tits closer to his chest. He feels like heaven against you, and his lips are absolutely magic. His tongue glides gently against your own. You can taste beer, but it’s not unpleasant, in fact, it turns you on even more.
You thread your fingers through his hair, dragging your nails against his scalp-
“Fuck,” Johnny mutters against your mouth.
Then he’s bending down, hands grabbing at your ass and prompting you to jump. You wrap your legs around his hips and he carries you effortlessly, closing the distance to his bed.
Instead of tossing you down, he sits on the mattress and suddenly your knees are digging into his charcoal duvet. You’re on top, fingers in his hair, your tongue licking at his lip, and you’ve never felt so powerful.
It gives you the confidence to wiggle your hips a little, and you’re pleased to find he’s already growing hard in his jeans. God, he feels big- and your pussy throbs at the idea of what you’re going to do to him tonight.
You’re in a dress, and your panty-clad core feels delightful against bulging denim. Johnny’s grabbing at your bare thigh, kneading your flesh, and it makes you moan desperately. Not only is he skilled with his tongue, but his hands seem to know what they’re doing too.
Suddenly he’s grabbing at your hair, tugging you so you arch your head back, giving him access to your throat. His mouth feels amazing as he begins to lick and suck on your neck, finding your sweet spot way too easily-
“Who-” You swallow thickly. “Who gave you my number?”
Johnny laughs against your skin, pulling away to look up at you with dark eyes. “Mark did.”
“Mark?!” You’re in absolute shock now. 
“Gave it to me during finals last year,” Johnny explains. “But… we both had busy summers and…” one of his hands sneaks down to guide your hips, helping you grind against him, “I guess I wasn’t sure how you felt about me.” 
“You’re crazy!” 
“Maybe a little,” he admits. “I’m also Mark’s big, and it’s not like you and I have ever been close.”
“But you’ve liked me for a while, haven’t you, Ghostie?” 
He groans at the nickname, looking up at you with eyes full of wonder. “Longer than you know.”
You wish you could say you’ve felt the same- but in all honesty, you have always seen him as Mark’s big. As an older fratboy dad type-
The way he’s acted with you this week has inklings of that protective daddy personality you know and enjoy, but… he’s not been particularly dad-like. He’s shown you a new side of himself, and you’re so fucking happy he did.
“You know, when Mark finds out you’re my stalker he’s going to flip.”
“I wasn’t stalking you,” Johnny insists, grinning up at you as he applies more pressure to your hips, making you grind against him harder. 
“God, you even hired me for a job-”
He laughs. “It wasn’t favoritism, you had a cover letter, the bar owner was even impressed.”
“You’re so bad- this whole time you’ve been mind fucking me. I would have never guessed my Ghostie worked at Skeets.”
“Well, I do have a minor in psychology,” he admits. “Figured the best place to hide is in plain sight.”
“You even smoked a joint in front of me and I never guessed-”
“Yeah, I was playing with fire with that one,” Johnny laughs. 
“It’s funny. I was so busy thinking about being loyal to Ghostie that I was trying not to check you out last night.” 
“And I’m so lucky to have you. You wouldn’t even let me put on your Ghost Face mask, so busy saving it for Ghostie.”
“Saving myself too,” you note, grinning down at him.
“Yeah?” 
“We’ve talked every night since Sunday- I haven’t cum in over a week.” 
“Fuck, Tiny,” Johnny groans. “I guess I better help you out then.”
“Really? How are you going to do that?”
“I’ll let you stay on top for a while, let you grind against me until you’re begging for me to tear your dress off.” He pulls at the strap on your shoulder. “Then, I’ll flip you over, get on my knees, and eat you out like the good girl you are, stretching you open with my fingers.”
“And then?”
“When you’re shaking and delirious from cumming, I’ll fuck you right. Bet you’ve never really been fucked right before.”
God, you definitely haven’t. At least- you know you’ve never been fucked the way Johnny is about to fuck you.
“What if I already want you to tear my dress off?” you ask, grinding down against his cock.
Johnny lets out a low groan, grinning at you. “Tiny, you’re nowhere near begging yet.”
“I’m not?” You lean forward, pressing a kiss to his throat before your teeth drag against his earlobe. “Please, Ghostie, I’m already so fucking wet, you wouldn’t believe it-”
He laughs, hand finding your hair again. He tugs you away from his neck, pressing his lips to your own and kissing you hard.
He takes your breath away. His tongue is perfect, licking and tasting- making you moan loudly while you work your hips, swiveling on his denim-covered cock.
“Fuck, Ghostie, you’re so fucking big-”
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” he promises, grabbing a fistful of your ass and squeezing so hard it almost hurts. But the pain is wonderful, and you cry out in ecstasy, working yourself harder against him.
If it wasn’t for his enticing cock, you think you could make out with him like this forever. 
You just want to be naked, so you grab at your dress, intent on lifting it off-
Johnny stops you. “I’ve told you patience is a virtue, haven’t I, Tiny?”
You groan in annoyance. “John, please-”
“Ghostie,” he corrects you.
You don’t even care- you simply grab his hand, guiding it between your legs. His fingertips brush over your soaked panties, and you gasp at the feeling of him, immediately grinding down, looking for relief.
“Fuck-” you moan, closing your eyes and throwing your head back.
He begins to circle your clit through your thong and you’re forced to grab at his shoulder to steady yourself, whimpering loudly. 
“Shit, Tiny, you’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers.
“I need you,” you gasp, feeling an orgasm already bubbling in the pit of your stomach. “Please, move my panties to the side-”
Johnny doesn’t question you this time. He pulls your thong away, easily burying two large fingers into your wet, needy core.
Now you’re really gasping. You lean forward, wrapping both arms around his strong shoulders and burying your face against his throat. “Oh my God, Ghostie- don’t stop-”
“You’re going to cum from this, aren’t you, pretty girl?”
You nod desperately, swiveling your hips so your clit can rub against the palm of his hand while his fingers work you open. 
“So good,” you whimper. “So fucking good-”
Johnny groans, curving his fingers and stroking your gspot.
You squeal in his lap, thigh muscles clenching while your pussy begins to throb around the foreign intrusions. You’re so close to the edge you can almost taste it.
“Want you to cum for me. Wanna hear your sounds while you drip down my hand.” 
Fuck, he’s way too sexy, voice all low and seductive. He’s breathing hard, and you can tell you’re turning him on just from riding his fingers-
“Come on, Tiny, who’s my good girl?”
“I am-” you gasp, digging your nails into his shoulders as your orgasm hits you straight on. 
You moan loudly, burying your face against Johnny’s neck. You’re panting against his skin, wiggling your hips while his fingers continue inside of you, driving you absolutely insane. Waves of pleasure are overtaking your form, and your mind is completely blank, overwhelmed by the feeling of ecstasy that Johnny provides for you.
“That’s it,” Johnny encourages you. “So fucking good for me.”
You’re shaking on his lap by the time your high is over, and you press wet kisses to his throat, earning groans from your Ghostie. 
You reach down for your dress, lifting it up and off your body. Johnny pulls back, watching you with dark eyes. He takes his fingers out of your wet pussy, bringing them to his lips to clean. But he’s not done there, as you toss the fabric to the floor, Johnny offers you his digits next. 
You lock eyes with him for a moment before leaning forward and accepting, taking his wet fingers into your mouth and helping suck them clean. You groa at the taste of yourself. Johnny watches the motion, his free hand finding your hip and forcing you to grind down against his cock. 
“You’re so hot, Tiny,” he says, removing his fingers from your lips.
“Wait till you see me naked,” you grin, reaching behind yourself to undo your bra. 
It falls away easily, and Johnny’s large hands cup your breasts almost immediately. His head dips, eyes taking in your newly exposed skin. “Fuck, how does a girl get this perfect?”
“How does a guy get a massive cock like yours?” you counter, rubbing yourself against the front of his jeans. 
“Touche,” he chuckles, leaning down to lick your nipple. 
You thread your fingers through his hair, guiding him to show more affection to your chest, which he’s more than happy to do. His large hand cups your right breast while he worships your other with his mouth, suckling on your nipple. His teeth drag gently against the sensitive bud and you moan loudly, rocking your hips all the while.
“As much as I’d love to keep sucking on your tits,” Johnny sighs, lips moving up your throat again, “I’d rather be between your legs.”
“Ghostie, do whatever you want to me,” you instruct, feeling delightfully submissive.
“You got it, Tiny.” 
In one easy motion, he flips you so your back is on the bed. Johnny pulls away from you, sinking to his knees at the edge of the mattress before grabbing you and tugging you closer. He tears his own shirt off, giving you a great view of muscles that make you even wetter. Then he grabs your panties, sliding them down your legs so you’re completely bare for him now.
Johnny doesn’t say anything, he simply licks his lips and dives into you. His tongue parts your folds, dipping inside to taste your walls while your legs shake around his head. “Fuck, Ghostie-”
You reach down to grab his hair, applying enough pressure to his head to let him know you’re enjoying what he’s doing… if he can’t already tell from your desperately needy moans. 
His lips move to suction on your clit and a squeal escapes you, your back arching slightly at the sensation. 
You’re sensitive from having cum already, sensitive from having not cum all week only to be getting this much attention now. But you’re also probably sensitive because this is Johnny, because there’s been a build-up that’s left you ready to pop, and he seems intent on making you pop multiple times for him.
“Oh my God,” you whimper, eyes closed, abdominal muscles tensing with effort as his skilled tongue works you up again. 
Johnny groans against your pussy and it’s one of the sexiest things that’s ever happened to you. Your grip on his hair tightens, your core throbbing with pleasure already.
When he adds two fingers into your dripping hole, you know you’re not going to last, but you don’t think he wants you to.
In fact, you’d bet that Johnny himself is just about ready to explode. You can’t believe he doesn’t have his cock out yet- can’t believe he’s so intent on making you cum twice before getting any satisfaction for himself.
“Fuck, Ghostie-” You want to tell him how close you are to cumming, but you can hardly get the words out between your moans. “I’m- holy shit-”
Johnny finger fucks you even harder, his mouth focusing on your clit, and you’re pretty sure he’s understood your garbled attempt to warn him, pretty sure he wants you to cum.
You allow yourself to find your release, your back arching again as you tug on Johnny’s hair, keeping his face between your legs. You grind down slightly, your body chasing your orgasm as it surges through you like fire in your veins.
Johnny lets out a low groan again, and your entire body twitches at the extra stimulation. You’re gasping now. Nothing has ever felt this good-
To his credit, Johnny tries to help you through your entire orgasm, but he pulls away before you’re truly finished. You can feel him panting against your pussy, and when you open your eyes to look down at him, you find Johnny staring at you with the horniest expression you’ve ever seen on a man.
“Ghostie-” you whimper, shifting against his duvet. 
“Condoms,” he says, pulling his fingers out of your core and standing up.
“I’m on birth control,” you tell him quickly, making him freeze. “And if we’re both clean-”
Johnny practically moans at the idea, looking down at your body. “Does my Tiny want to be filled up all nice and good?”
Now it’s your turn to groan, and you nod, licking your lips. You sit up next, feeling your skin heat at the words you want to say, “I also… I wanna suck you off first.”
Johnny approaches the bed again, towering over you. It’s hard to focus on his eyes when his abs and strong biceps and veiny forearms are drawing your attention, but when he cups your jaw it makes things easier. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”
“You pretty much stalked me for a week,” you tease, grinning.
Your Ghostie lets out a laugh. He doesn’t bother to check you on the word ‘stalking’ this time, even though he’s always been adamant that’s not what he was up to. It’s nice to have this little win, and as a reward for him biting his tongue, you reach out to undo his belt.
As the buckle unclasps and you move to his zipper, there’s a loud banging on the door.
Johnny looks over his shoulder and you can hear Hyuck screaming “Tequila!” 
The frat boy in front of you lifts his finger to his lips, a shushing motion, and then he reaches into his back pocket for his phone. You bet he’s going to text Hyuck some lie about not being in the room, but you’re too horny to slow down.
You get his jeans undone and you bundle your hands up in all the fabric, roughly tugging them down.
Johnny lets out a groan when his large cock slaps up against his abdomen, and he moves his phone to the side to give himself a better view, holding it with one hand while raising a brow at you.
You’re on your knees at the foot of the bed now while Johnny stands there, and you steady yourself, grabbing the base of his cock. With one last wink at Ghostie, you lean forward, kitten licking his length from balls to tip.
The man above you quickly types in the text, then tosses his phone to the side, his large hand coming down to cup your cheek. You take this as a sign to accept him into your mouth, so you do exactly that.
He’s so large and thick- you haven’t sucked cock in a while, and you’ve never sucked a cock as big as his. You know you can take your time, Johnny’s always been patient with you. 
You start by paying attention to the head, swirling your tongue around him and getting used to his size. Your eyes close, mind focused completely on your task. You’re already drooling from this, and you can feel your saliva dripping down his shaft. You smooth your thumb along the new trail of spit, helping lube your hand so you can begin to pump his cock.
“Fuck,” Johnny groans, tightening his grip in your hair.
You try to sink your mouth further onto his cock, but it’s difficult. He’s just so huge-
Your pussy throbs knowing that soon, this monster dick is going to be inside of you-
Without any lube that you’ve seen so far, you want to make him as slicked up as possible, and it helps that you’re drooling from how sexy all of this is.
His cock hits the back of your throat and you gag slightly, powering through the uncomfortable feeling as you glide your tongue along his shaft. You’re not a quitter.
“Holy fuck, Tiny-” Johnny praises you. “You don’t have to try to take more than you can handle-”
But you want to. You want to pleasure him the way he’s pleasured you, and his words only prompt you to suck harder, earning more groans from the man above you.
“You’re so good at this,” he continues his words of encouragement, and they do help you take him deeper. His voice is smooth, sexy, and thankfully not modulated in any way. 
You’ve never realized how nice John’s voice really is. 
You apply more pressure with your hand, pumping him faster-
“Okay, okay-” Johnny tugs gently on your hair, prompting you to pull off of his cock and blink up at him in confusion. “I have to fuck you now. I’m done waiting.” 
You let out a tiny mewl, nodding. 
Johnny kicks off his jeans completely, pressing a knee onto the bed. He leans down to kiss you, and then he’s grabbing your body. In one easy motion, he tosses you a few feet up the mattress, so your head can land against the pillows.
God, he makes you feel truly Tiny- it’s one of the sexiest things ever.
He takes his place between your legs next, lips finding yours. One of his hands cups your cheek, and the kiss deepens, his tongue invading your mouth while your arms wrap around his strong shoulders.
You can feel his cock sliding between your pussy lips, and it’s almost embarrassing how wet you are, how much drool you’ve left on him. 
“Please-” you whimper. You can’t wait another moment either, you have to know what he feels like. You reach your hand between your bodies, grabbing his cock so you can line him up with you properly. “Ghostie, I can’t-”
He kisses you, cutting you off. Something tells you Johnny understands, and the moment you have him properly situated, he begins to push into you.
You gasp against his lips, letting go of his cock so you can grab his shoulders. He’d worked you open with his fingers two times over, but nothing compares to this. You can feel your walls stretching to accommodate his impressive girth, and it leaves you practically brain-dead.
“Let me know if it’s too much,” Johnny tells you, lips moving to your throat so he can suck on your sweet spot while he continues to burry into your hot, wet core.
You wrap your legs tightly around his hips, closing your eyes while the feeling of him overtakes you. You’ve never moaned like this before, never felt anything like Johnny-
He groans loudly against your skin, gently thrusting, coating his cock in your juices to make things easier-
The moment his hips hit flush to yours, his full cock buried inside of you, you both gasp. Johnny grabs at your hands, interlocking your fingers and pinning them to the pillows on either side of your head.
“Fuck, you’re so big, you’re so-” You can’t even think, especially not when he takes another test thrust.
His cock drags against your inner walls and you cry out, body tingling. 
“You take me so well, Tiny,” he praises you, mouth still hot on your throat. “The perfect fit.” 
You can’t speak, not now, but you can squeeze his hands and tilt your head to the side, kissing his cheek. Johnny takes the cue to bring his lips back to yours, and you’re immediately lost in yet another breathtaking makeout session.
He’s moving slow, fucking into you at a gentle pace, allowing your body to get used to his massive size. 
But you’re feeling particularly desperate, and greedy. “More.” 
“More?” He laughs. “You sure about that?”
You nod, eager to be decimated by him. “Please, ruin me-”
Johnny groans, letting go of one of your hands so he can press his palm flat to the bed, giving himself more leverage. He begins to fuck you faster, and each meeting of his cock to your core has you whimpering like a whore in heat.
“You make the cutest fucking sounds,” Johnny breathes.
Only he - with his cock making you feral - would call your noises of pleasure cute.
He’s so stupidly endearing.
“Fuck, Tiny, you’re dripping- making this too fucking easy for me.” 
It’s absolutely embarrassing how wet you are. He’s gliding into you with no issues now, and each movement is like heaven. The head of his cock hits a spot deep in your stomach- you can’t help but reach down, pressing your palm to your abdomen-
You can feel him rearranging your guts, and you both groan when you apply a bit of pressure.
“Deep, huh?” Johnny lets out a moaned chuckle. 
“So deep-” you agree, words slightly garbled. 
“I’ve just started with you and you can hardly speak,” Johnny muses. “Wonder what’s gonna happen when I make you cum again.”
You cry out desperately, removing your hand from your stomach so you can claw at his hair, bringing his lips back to your own.
You’re tired of thinking- all you want to do is experience this, experience him, at your fullest- and boy, are you fucking full.
Johnny lets go of your other hand, reaching for your thigh. He adjusts it higher on his hip and suddenly he’s driving into you even deeper.
Your eyes roll into the back of your head and you gasp loudly against his lips. Johnny traces his tongue along your teeth, and you can feel him smirking.
You love that he’s enjoying this- enjoying watching you come completely undone for him.
“You know,” he says, “if you keep squeezing me like that, I’m not going to last long.”
You don’t even care. You know this isn’t the only time you’ll be fucking this man- and after cumming twice already, your body is near its limit of pleasure, if that’s even possible. In fact, there’s something very sexy about making a man cum quicker than he’s used to, and your pussy clenches at the thought. 
“Fuck,” Johnny groans again. “Can I flip you over?”
At this point, you’ll agree to any request, and you nod quickly, biting at your lip.
With one last kiss, Johnny pulls away from you. His cock slips out of your core and you whine at  the loss, only for his two large hands to grab your waist and manually turn you onto your stomach. Then he adjusts your hips, pulling you up into doggy position.
“If you need to scream, use the pillows,” Johnny warns you, lining up with your pussy again.
The first thrust has you doing exactly that. You bury your face into the pillow, letting out a loud cry as his cock hits deeper than before. 
This position might just kill you, but you don’t care.
His hands feel so good- so large and warm and steady on your hips as he finds an even rougher pace.
You can hear your ass smacking loudly against his front with each thrust and it only adds to your arousal. 
Bunching your hands up in his duvet, you do your best not to be so loud that the whole frat will hear you. But it’s so difficult not to just melt under him- 
You can feel your eyes welling with pleasure-fueled tears, and it drives you crazy.
“Fuck, you like this position, don’t you, pretty girl?”
“Yes, Ghostie!” you gasp, nodding while his cock continues to make you feel like absolute heaven.
“You look fucking perfect like this,” he tells you. “Face down, ass up. Pretty soon you’ll be begging for me to fill you up even more.”
His words flip a switch inside of you. “God, yes, please-” you cry out. “I want it so bad-”
“Want what?”
“Want your cum,” you whimper. “Wanna be so full-”
Johnny groans, grabbing rough fistfuls of your ass while he fucks you even harder. 
“I need it, Ghostie, I need it-” You’re crying now, and Johnny notices.
He bends over your back, bracing an arm across your chest so he can lift you onto your knees. He cups your jaw, thumb stroking through a tear track. “Holy shit, Tiny,” he moans, mouth hot against your shoulder. 
“Please, Ghostie, please-” you whimper, lower lip trembling-
You’re so close-
Johnny lets go of your jaw, and his hand slips down your front. You jolt when his fingers make contact with your clit, wriggling in his grasp.
“I’m almost there, Tiny,” he admits. “Watching you cum will tip me over the edge- you’ll be good and cum for me, right?”
All you can do is nod. Words are gone. Your mind is blank except for the pleasure that’s coursing through you.
Your noises are getting pitchier, and Johnny works you all the way to your peak. You gasp loudly as you topple over the edge, core clamping down hard on his cock.
Your legs feel like jelly, and Johnny releases you, allowing you to fall to the bed while your orgasm ravages your form. You’re clawing at the sheets, burying your face in his bed to muffle your screams-
His hands are bruising on your hips, and you hear him let out a loud groan. You can feel him filling you up, his motions faltering ever so slightly. His breath is hot against your shoulders and it’s added stimulus that makes you twitch, so completely overwhelmed that it almost feels like you’re about to black out.
But you don’t want to miss a second of this. His groans of pleasure keep you in the moment even as your mind is in a sex daze. 
Johnny rides you through your high, thrusts slowing until he comes to a stop behind you. 
You’re both breathing heavily now, and Johnny stays still for a moment, enjoying the last of your orgasm aftershocks. Then he flattens his chest to your back, hand falling to the bed next to  your own. 
“Holy shit,” he breathes. 
You can’t help but let out a small laugh, and it makes Johnny groan as your core clenches again.
He kisses your shoulder, lips oddly tender in comparison to the way he just blew your back out. 
“Ghostie-” you whimper, wanting to collapse on his bed from exhaustion. 
“Stay still, I’ll get something to clean you up,” he assures you, pressing one last kiss to your skin before straightening from your back. 
You miss his warmth as soon as he’s gone, and you especially miss his cock when it slides out of you. 
You feel him get off the bed, and a moment later, something begins to drip down your inner thighs. He really filled you up, and it makes you twitch. You reach a hand between your legs, cupping your core and rolling onto your back on his bed, trying to breathe properly.
Johnny is back a second later, and you can feel his gaze on you.
“Spread these thighs for me, Tiny,” he says gently, touching your knee. 
You open your eyes, and then you open your legs. 
Johnny moves your hand out of the way, letting out a groan. “You have no idea how fucking hot this is-” he tells you, wiping your core clean of his cum. 
You still don’t have it within yourself to speak, you can only watch him toss the tissue in the garbage before you’re making grabby hands at him.
Johnny laughs. He sits on the bed next to you, leaning against the headboard before scooping you into his lap. He’s so fucking big, and he makes you feel safe cuddled in his arms, your cheek pressed to his chest.
His heart is still racing, and it makes you feel better to know you’re not the only one who’s so affected by this.
Johnny’s fingers begin to thread through your hair, and he simply holds you while you come out of subspace. 
The party is still in full swing outside, and it’s an interesting feeling to have such a private moment with Johnny in the middle of a frat on Halloween. 
“Do you think anyone heard us?” you ask finally.
Johnny laughs. “Don’t worry about it,” he says soothingly. 
You pull away from his chest, looking up at him. His hand moves to cup your face and you press your lips to his. It’s a much gentler kiss than he’d given you mid-fuck, and it eases your racing heart. 
“Ghostie?”
“Yeah, Tiny?” 
“I like you a lot.”
He lets out another chuckle. “I like you too.”
“We’ll do this again sometime, right?”
“Of course, Tiny.” His hand smooths up and down your back. “I’d also like to take you on dates, if you’ll let me.”
“I’d like that,” you nod, relaxing against his chest again. “And… and when you call me, no more voice modulator.”
“No?”
“I like your voice, your real voice.” God, you’re feeling so soft and mushy for him.
“I like your voice too.” For a second, it’s a sweet moment, and then Johnny continues, “Liked listening to your whimpers.”
He’s such a frat boy, but you kind of love him for it. “Did you like my tears too?”
“Only if they’re for a good reason,” Johnny says. “If anyone else ever makes you cry, I’ll have to fuck them up.”
“My protective Ghostie,” you grin, leaning up to kiss the underside of his jaw.
“As much as I’d love to stay cuddling you forever, I should probably bring the boys some tequila,” Johnny sighs.
“The boys,” you echo. “I feel like I’ve just fucked Mark and Hyuck’s dad.”
“Do you have a daddy kink, Tiny?”
“For you, I have any kink you want,” you laugh. 
“I like the sound of that.”
“Just… kiss me again?” you ask. “We can bring tequila after.”
“Are you sure you want to come with? You can stay here and I’ll come back-”
“We should…” you lick your lips, “we should be social.”
“I just fucked your brains out and you want to go be social?” Johnny grins. “Maybe I didn’t work you over well enough.”
“You worked me over perfect,” you laugh, grabbing at his jaw so you can press your lips to his.
Johnny melts into the kiss, and there’s something in it that feels like coming home. You’ve never felt this safe with a guy before, and it’s kind of starting to scare you.
If you were to stay here- you think you might even fall in love with Johnny… that is, if you haven’t already.
You pull away from your Ghostie, letting out a sigh. 
Getting out of his lap isn’t fun, and your legs are wobbly as you stand next to the bed, but Johnny’s hands go to your hips to steady you.
When he stands, he towers over you, and you’re overcome by your thirst for him all over again. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, bringing him in for another kiss. 
It’s so easy to get lost in making out with Johnny, but you have to tear yourself away, nodding, “Tequila.”
“Tequila,” he echoes. “Can you stand by yourself?”
“I’m okay,” you assure him, but it still hurts when he lets you go. 
Johnny pulls on some sweatpants while you find your dress-
“You’re not putting that back on,” Johnny tells you, moving to his closet. “Let me give you some clothes.”
“Are you trying to announce to Mark and Hyuck that we’ve fucked?” you laugh, accepting the large t-shirt he throws your way.
“Trust me, Tiny, they’ll know.”
“Yeah? How’s that?”
“After this, I won’t be able to keep my hands to myself, and something tells me you won’t be able to either.” Johnny pulls on a hoodie, grabbing the tequila and turning to you. “I know you, remember?” 
You grin, pulling on the pair of black boxer shorts he’d also sent your way. “Maybe a little too well.” 
“Or not well enough,” Johnny suggests, approaching you again.
“You’re such a sweet talker.”
“Only for you,” he smirks, leaning down to kiss you again. “You look cute in my clothes.”
“Do I look like I just got fucked senseless?”
“Definitely.” 
“Mark’s going to hate you,” you laugh.
“He’ll get over it,” Johnny brushes it off, reaching for your hand. “Ready to go?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” 
“You can still stay here if you want.”
“No, let’s face this now.” You need to be firm, need to get out of this love den before you find yourself even more loved up.
The two of you head to his door and Johnny holds it open for you. 
In the time you’ve been fucking, it looks like a lot of people have dispersed from the party, so walking through the hallway isn’t exactly a walk of shame. However, when you get down the stairs to Mark’s floor, you realize you still have to pull up your big girl panties to face him.
“I’m going to run to the bathroom,” you tell Johnny, “I’ll meet you in Mark’s.”
“You don’t want me to come with you?”
“To the bathroom?” you laugh. “I think I’m good.”
With one last kiss, you make your way to the frat bathroom at the end of the hall. It’s important to go pee after sex, for UTI reasons, your sorority big sister has drilled that into you since first year. When you’re done, you head to the sink, daring a look at yourself in the dirty mirror.
You look fucked, but you also look happy. 
In fact, you can’t stop smiling. 
After washing your hands, you dab some water on your throat, hoping it will calm you down. Once you feel good and ready, you exit the bathroom.
Mark’s door is open when you get to his room, and you poke your head inside. 
Jaehyun and Hyuck are on one bed, Mark and Johnny on the other, and they’re all lifting shots to their mouths. As you step inside, Mark’s gaze shifts to you. He takes in your new outfit and his eyes widen, then he spits out his shot, coughing loudly. 
Johnny’s hand finds Mark’s back while he practically coughs up a lung, and then Mark is leaping to his feet. “What-” His eyes dart between you and Johnny, and you can see the realization there. 
“Jesus, Mark, learn how to handle a shot,” Hyuck scoffs.
Mark doesn’t even entertain Hyuck, he simply turns to his big, pointing an accusatory finger at Johnny’s chest. “You’re Ghostie!?”
Johnny stands up. “You’re the one who gave me her number last year.”
“I what?!” Mark’s eyes are practically bulging out of his head now.
Hyuck and Jaehyun exchange a look, and Hyuck reaches for the tequila to pour another shot.
“Mark, it could be worse-” you say, trying to de-escalate the situation while stepping further into the room.
“How could it be worse!?” Mark bellows. “My Big is a stalker!”
“He’s not a stalker,” you defend Johnny, coming to join your tall new lover, your hand reaching for his.
“You’re her new boss!” Mark insists.
“Hyuck fucked our last bar manager,” Johnny points out.
“Guilty,” Hyuck smirks over the rim of his new shot.
Mark’s still not having any of this situation. “This is fucked up.”
“Mark, I’ve told you a million times, it’s spooky season.” You can’t help but giggle. This has been such a turn of events, but you wouldn’t want it any other way.
“You better not hurt her,” Mark says next, trying to meet Johnny’s gaze even while substantially shorter. 
“I won’t,” Johnny promises. 
“This is just-” Mark shakes his head. “Fuck this, I need to sleep.”
“We can move the party to my room,” Jaehyun says, already grabbing the bottle of tequila while Hyuck reaches for his bong.
It’s clear Mark’s done talking, and he collapses onto his bed face first like a tantruming toddler. You’ll discuss this with him another day, but you know now is probably not the time to push him to accept that his Big has a whole different side to him that Mark’s never seen. 
As you leave the room with Hyuck, Johnny and Jaehyun, Hyuck elbows you in the side. “I always knew you’d end up with one of us.”
“Yeah?” you laugh, gaze shifting to Johnny and Jaehyun who walk a few feet ahead of you.
“Once an NCT girl, always an NCT girl,” Hyuck nods. “And between us…” he leans closer, “Johnny is a good one.”
Your Ghostie looks over his shoulder at you, and you meet his gaze with a smile. “He is,” you agree. “Hey, John?”
“Yes, Tiny?” He stops at the door to the stairwell, holding it open and allowing you to catch up.
“I changed my mind, I think I am done with the party tonight.”
“Yeah?” Johnny smirks. “Gonna come back to my room?”
“If you invite me.”
“Tiny, my room has an open-door policy for you now.”
“Is that so?” you wrap your arms around his neck, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.
“Uh huh,” Johnny grins. “And free cuddles, anytime you want them.”
“I like the sound of that,” you confess. 
“Just get married already!” Hyuck shouts back at the two of you as he climbs the stairs with Jaehyun. 
You and Johnny can only laugh at Hyuck. Your willpower is completely gone, and you allow your Ghostie to take you back to his room. 
He cuddles you close as the party dies down outside, and you find yourself slipping into the best sleep of your life on Halloween night with your Ghostie by your side.
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☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! Halloween is my favourite Holiday, and there's something about Johnny and horror genre that makes me go feral
🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 
🔮 preview. There’s no way he should be this fucking sexy. You’re outside in the cold, parkas on, a Santa hat on his head, a joint between his lips,  both your jeans down to your knees, his hand over your mouth to stifle your moans, and he’s about to fuck you against a wall with his massive cock- you’ve decided that Johnny as a whole is simply illegal.
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, exhibitionism in an alley, weed use, slight temperature play, big dick Johnny, quickie, cum kink/filling panties with cum while at work, praise, dirty talk, size kink, hand over mouth silencing, choking, etc… I pet names: (hers) Tiny, pretty girl, good girl. (his) Ghostie.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.5k I teaser wc. 275
🌙 staring. Johnny x afab!reader
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bonus
You’ve been dating Johnny for a month and a half and you still can’t get enough of him. Whenever you pop over to the frat, it’s not long before one of you is dragging the other to his room. There’s never been sexual chemistry like there is for you and your Ghostie.
You’d never thought your biggest hurdle in the workplace would be refraining from jumping your bar manager, but here you are, every shift, practically drooling over him. Each brush of his hands across your body as he moves behind you to grab something makes you want to tear his clothes off, and your patience is at an all-time low. 
With Christmas fast approaching, the bar scene has substantially dwindled, and it’s making you even more needy. When Skeets only has a handful of customers, you fill drink orders while thinking about sucking on Johnny’s cock. 
It doesn’t help that he’s started wearing a Santa hat- why does it make him even sexier?
As Johnny smiles and makes casual conversation with a pair of girls sitting at the bar, you do your best to calm yourself. At the end of the night, you’ll be the one in Johnny’s bed, you just have to get to closing.
You notice in the periphery of your vision that the girls are finishing up with their drinks. Johnny excuses himself to grab the card reader, and as he slips past your ass, you feel his hard cock in his jeans. It’s difficult to stifle a moan, and you do so by biting on your lip. 
He loves teasing you, especially while you’re at work, and it drives you absolutely mental.
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youunravelme · 11 months
Text
the worst wing-woman
author's note: just like all my other fics, we are existing in an alternate plane where tito was never traded. also i've never worked for the nhl, so i have no idea how accurate being a photographer is but guess what. idgaf. also sorry for the amount of italics in this fic, i have no self control apparently. and shoutout to my new friend @dani746 for helping me with this monstrosity.
summary: you've been in love with mat barzal for as long as you can remember, so what do you do when he asks for your help to win over your friend?
pairing: mat barzal x islanders photographer!reader
warnings: cursing and low self esteem
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despite working for the isles for two years now, you still got nervous walking into work.
you weren't a stranger to the team, some of them you knew quite well. anders and marty being two players you were friendly with (mainly due to the fact that you were somewhat friendly with their wives). but there was always one player who eluded you, who you'd only ever had professional interactions with.
mathew barzal.
and it shouldn't be surprising, you were a measly photographer whereas he was the star player of his team, the winner of the calder trophy, an nhl heartthrob. why should he pay attention to you?
media day was one of your favorite days, mainly because it was the closest you ever got to holding full conversations with him. not that the conversations went anything beyond "look right here" or "great job, mat."
you didn't even think he knew your name.
the longest conversation you had with him consisted of him asking to see the photos you took and patting you on your back when he liked what he saw before he went off to talk to tito.
"you having a good day?" you nearly jumped a foot in the air when your staring was cut off by anders walking up to you.
"yeah," you said when your heartbeat returned to normal. "just busy is all." you held your camera up as if that was enough of an explanation.
anders nodded. "any of the boys giving you a hard time?"
you shook your head rapidly. "nope, they've all been on their best behavior."
"even barzy and beauvillier?" at the mention of their names, the duo turned their heads and locked eyes with you and anders.
you wanted to dig a hole and die in it.
"what about us?" mat asked, sauntering over with his best friend right behind him.
"you haven't been giving her a hard time, have you?" anders crossed his arms. and if you weren't panicking at the closing distance between you and mat, you might've noticed the shared smirk between the three hockey players in front of you.
"us?" tito asked. "why would you think that? we've only ever been angels."
before anders could ask you to corroborate tito's story, your name was called. you awkwardly waved to the three men before walking over to another set of props, ready to photograph another hockey player.
"done embarrassing yourself?" your coworker tyler asked.
you lightly shoved his shoulder. "shut up."
"seriously, you're not his type," he added. "he's not gonna go for you."
tyler might as well have stabbed you in the gut with how much his words hurt you, but you put a smile on and nodded. "yeah, i know. i know."
and you did.
you knew.
but you'd be delusional for a little while longer if it meant going to work wouldn't suck every day.
later that night, you found yourself at a bar with a group of your friends. you didn't want to go originally, but when alexa said she needed to go out to get over her ex, you felt like you had no other choice.
which is how you found yourself sipping a soda water in a booth while your friends danced and took body shots.
your gaze wandered around the bar aimlessly before you checked your phone for the time.
you'd only been there for an hour.
it took all self restraint not to bang your head against the table.
"having fun?" your head snapped up at the familiar voice only to see anthony beauvillier standing at the edge of your booth with a self satisfied smirk.
"i--"
"i didn't take you as one to go out drinking on a weeknight," he said.
you slumped into your seat. "i'm not. my friend alexa wanted to go out because her boyfriend just dumped her and she wanted a distraction."
anthony took the seat opposite of you. "and that is...?" he gestured at your drink.
"soda water," you answered. "i'm the DD for tonight."
"oof," he groaned before taking a sip of his beer. "that's rough."
you shrugged. "it's not that bad, i'd rather my friends get home safe than get drunk and show up to work hungover."
anthony nodded in a way that you'd seen other men do, the type of nod that comes right before someone looks around for someone more interesting to talk to.
"but what about you?" you rushed out, nearly tripping over your own words.
tito smiled. "what about me?"
"why're you here?"
he shrugged. "mat wanted to come out and didn't want to go out alone, so here i am."
mat.
you wanted to vomit.
"oh," you mumbled. "mat's here?"
tito nodded and gestured with his bottle to the bar. "he's over there talking to some brunette."
you followed with your eyes and when you finally locked eyes on him, you wished you hadn't.
he was talking to alexa, smiling at her the way you wished he'd smile at you.
maybe you could leave the bar and get hit by a taxi on the way out, that would be less painful than seeing the man you're in love with flirt with your friend.
"you okay?" anthony asked, nudging your leg with his foot.
you turned your gaze back to him and attempted to give him your most convincing smile. "i'm great!" you said before throwing your soda water back and coughing when the carbonation burned.
anthony didn't say a word.
when you looked back at the bar, alexa was nowhere to be found while mat was fiddling with one of his wristbands. you looked around to find alexa, thinking maybe she was in the crowd dancing or perhaps she was in line for the bathroom.
but she popped up at your table, sweaty and smiling.
"you good?" she asked before fixing her eyes on anthony who was sipping on his beer. "who's this?"
"anthony. i know him from work." tito gave her a small wave before taking another sip of his beer.
"alexa," she smiled before her attention focused back on you. "i actually met one of your coworkers, mat right?"
you forced a smile and nodded. "the one and only. what did you think?" though, to be fair, you didn't really want to know her opinion on him. not when you thought the world of him.
alexa shrugged and tossed her perfect hair over her perfect shoulder and gave a perfect smile that was a healthy balance of nonchalant and mildly interested. "he was alright, he knows he's attractive which is rather unattractive if you ask me."
tito choked on his beer while you stared in awe.
of all the words you'd use to describe mat, "alright" was not even close to the top 25.
"something funny?" alexa asked.
"nope," tito supplied, shaking his head. "nothing at all."
alexa looked at him, unconvinced, but didn't let it bother her. "i'm gonna go dance, you coming?" she asked.
you shook your head. "not really my scene."
alexa nodded and pranced off to the dance floor where the rest of your friends were grinding on strangers to the tune of some 2000s pop song.
"she's a delight," tito said.
you sighed. "she's practically miss america." you were too busy staring at her having fun to notice another person walk up to your booth until he was standing right in front of you with a question posed on the tip of his lips.
mat.
your mouth went dry at the sight of him.
"you know her?" he gestured over his shoulder to where alexa was laughing with one of your friends.
you nodded.
"are you two close?"
you shrugged.
mat sighed. "are you capable of speaking?"
tito spoke up. "mat, you just bombarded her without a single hello, chill."
mat pinched the bridge of his nose. "sorry, i just--she rejected me and i don't know why."
"you're too attractive and you know it," you blurted out before you could stop yourself. you quickly slapped a hand over your mouth like that would stop any other bullshit that might come out.
mat tilted his head and leaned in. "huh?"
"her words, not mine," you said like it would absolve you of any guilt.
"what do you mean by being 'too attractive' and 'knowing it'? how does that even make sense?"
you shrugged for what felt like the twelfth time that night. "alexa's not really into guys who are obsessed with their appearances. she just got out of a relationship with a guy like that," you explained.
mat ran a hand down his face before placing both hands on his waist. "so what do you suggest i do?" he groaned.
"i--"
he snapped his fingers and looked at you for what felt like the first time. it sent a chill down your spine that you had a problem suppressing. "can you help me?"
your mouth dropped open. "huh?"
"you're friends, right? can you help me win her over?"
you could list about a thousand other things you'd rather do. you could think of five just off the top of your head.
but he looked so earnest and willing and how could anyone possibly resist him when he looked at you like that--
"of course!" you smiled.
of course?! yes would've sufficed but now you've got him thinking you'd enjoy this. which you most certainly wouldn't.
oh who were you kidding? all attention was good attention when it came to mat barzal and you'd give anything to keep him looking at you.
"thank you!" he smiled before clapping tito on the shoulder. "ready to head out?"
anthony nodded before addressing you. "i had a nice time. see you tomorrow?"
you smiled and nodded, giving them both a small wave as they walked away. the second they were out the door, you thumped your head against the table.
playing wing-woman for mathew barzal.
what the fuck was wrong with you?
how to be a wing-woman: a guide
usually when you went to work, you kept your head down and stayed out of the way. occasionally, you'd run into anders or marty, or maybe even tito, who would say their polite hellos, but for the most part you stayed out of the way during practices.
you were looking at the photos you just took when someone banged on the glass. a quick glance (that turned into a double take) let you figure out it was mat based on the 13 on his jersey and the fact that you could pick him out of a crowd anywhere.
he waved and smiled (and you might've died inside). "can i talk to you after practice?"
you nodded frantically before gaining a semblance of self respect and slowing down.
"great! meet you outside of the locker rooms!" he said before skating away.
"what was that about?" tyler asked. you turned, not even realizing he'd made his way towards you considering you thought he was on the other side of the arena.
"what? can't i talk to the players?"
tyler laughed. actually laughed. "considering barzal has never so much as looked at you, i'd say him approaching you during practice is pretty strange."
your shoulders sunk at the weight of the truth. "if you must know," you started. "he wants to date one of my friends, so i'm helping him out."
tyler laughed again and walked away without saying another word while you scrolled through the photos you took again until practice ended.
you headed towards the locker rooms only when the last player had been off the ice for ten minutes, you didn't want to chance waiting around too long looking like an idiot.
as you waited, you made a mental note of all the editing you'd have to do when you got back to your cubicle. you got a few good shots earlier, but they'd need some tweaking before you sent them to the social media team. in fact--
"hey, what're you doing here?" you glanced up and saw anders, hair wet from whatever brief shower he took.
you shrugged, not sure if it was your place to give away mat's intentions. "just waiting around."
"for?" he pushed.
"barzy needs her to play wing-woman," tito said from over anders' shoulders. "he wants to get with her friend, but her friend isn't interested."
anders threw his head back and laughed. "barzy not getting a girl? that's fucking hilarious."
tito smirked. "tell him what your friend said" he told you.
"she doesn't like that he knows he's attractive," you mumbled.
if it was even possible, anders laughed even louder. "un-fucking-believable."
"what's so funny?" mat walked up, running a hand through his damp hair.
you said "nothing" at the same time anders asked "you got rejected, barzy?"
mat's face dropped before looking at you and tito accusingly. anthony sighed and nudged his best friend. "chill out, barz. she didn't bring it up, i did."
mat's shoulders relaxed before he punched tito in the arm. "dick," he mumbled.
anders looked between the three of you and sighed. "i don't have time for this shit," he said. "i'll see you later." and he was off down the hallway.
"so what's the plan for today?" tito asked.
"you're not included," mat said. his gaze focused on you. "can i have your number?"
you blinked. "what?"
mat laughed a little and you could feel heat and shame running up your spine. he asked you one fucking question and you had to go act like a weirdo. "so i can text you? i think we should sit down and create a strategy."
you nodded and read off your number as he typed it into his phone. "great," he gave you his megawatt smile. "i'll text you."
"okay," you breathed out as he walked away without a thought.
tito kept standing there, smirking to himself. "you're so fucked," he said.
you nodded because there was nothing else to say.
step one: talk him up
you and mat got lunch two days later on a saturday when he didn't have a game. it was rather surreal, sitting across from him in public. the delusional part of you was begging you to imagine this as a date instead of a meeting to set your friend up with mat.
when did your life turn into something so pathetic?
"okay," he started. "tell me about your friend."
you would rather do anything else.
"she just got out of a long term relationship with this guy named jared. he was a bit self absorbed which is probably why she didn't like you knowing how hot you are." you paused as the words left your mouth, ready to set yourself on fire if he reacted. but he didn't, he only leaned in closer to listen. "she uh--she likes daffodils and goes to the farmer's market at union square every saturday."
"but what's she like?" he asked. "what's her personality?"
how would you say she's the trademarked cool girl? the girl every guy wanted, that mat was one man in a long list of men who tried and failed to win her over.
"she's sweet and affectionate," you started. "she pretty girly on the outside but knows her way around a car. she grew up with three older brothers so she knows a fair bit about sports, just not hockey, but if you wanted to talk stats about football or basketball, she's your girl. in college, she held the record for fastest shotgun in her sorority."
you racked your brain for more information about your friend, but it was difficult under pressure to sum up someone you'd known since freshman year of college.
"what else?" mat asked.
"she's a bit of a partier, but knows how to settle down and just chill. she's a really good friend, like last year i dated this guy who was cheating on me the entire duration of our relationship, which i should've known about because he said he had to go on business trips all the time but he worked as a barista, and she held me while i cried for three days straight and even threatened to fuck up his car."
mat stared at you without saying anything in a way that made you want to sink into a hole, never to be seen again. "you dated a barista and thought he needed to go on business trips?"
you blinked. "that's what you got from that? me dating a shitty barista?"
he shrugged. "i heard everything else, but that was definitely the funniest part. how long did you date him?"
"six months," you replied quickly. "but that's not the point! alexa is going to play hard to get because she doesn't want anything too serious right now."
"great! neither do i!"
"but she's not a one night stand kind of girl anymore. so if you want her, you have to prove to her you can be serious enough for a relationship but not serious enough that you get clingy and overbearing and propose within six months."
mat blinked at you. "how the hell does that make sense?"
"believe me, there's a balance."
he sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. "and you would know this how?"
"well i uh--" you sputtered. your nerves were only encouraged by his light chuckling. "all girls know these things! we don't want overly possessive boyfriends but we also want someone to care. it shouldn't be that hard to comprehend."
"it's not," he defended. "just a little...complicated, don't you think?"
"alexa's a complicated girl!"
he sighed and ran a hand down his face. "okay so how do i show her i mean business but that i'm not looking to settle down and get married?"
"i guess i could talk you up to her in passing conversation?"
"what would you tell her? we don't know each other very well."
"i know more than you think!"
"please, share with the class."
shit.
do you confess that in the two years you'd worked for the islanders that you watched him borderline obsessively?
"well, i know you're good with kids, if your interactions with young fans is anything to go by. you don't like dogs, which is a bit of a red flag in my book, but alexa shouldn't mind. you're a fantastic hockey player, and a great teammate."
"is that enough to convince her?"
you grimaced and shook your head. "she's a bit more personable. she one time broke up with a guy because he was rude to waitstaff. she would want to know how you treat non millionaires and authority figures. for instance, how much do you tip a server?"
"25%," he replied. "but why does that matter?"
"alexa used to be a server throughout college and couldn't stand people who she knew had money but would cheap out on the tip because she didn't greet them fast enough."
mat opened his mouth, presumably to ask another question, when his phone started ringing. "shit," he mumbled. "listen, i gotta go. it was nice talking to you, i'll be in touch." he pulled out a few twenty dollar bills and put them on the table before getting up and walking away.
you waited for the server to come back before paying the bill and told them to keep the change before you got up and walked home.
when you got back to your apartment, alexa was already standing at the door, waiting to be let in.
"finally," she said. "i was wondering when you were gonna come home."
"you could've texted me," you said while unlocking the door.
she followed you inside and shut the door behind her. "i could've, but your phone was on do not disturb for some reason, so i doubt my texts would've gone through in time. where were you anyway?"
"getting lunch with a friend from work," you replied.
alexa groaned as she all but collapsed onto your couch. "please tell me it's not tyler. i hate how he treats you."
you dropped your bag by the door and headed back to your room, but not before calling over your shoulder. "he's not that bad, he's like that to everyone!"
"doesn't make it any better!"
you changed into some comfortable clothing before joining alexa on your couch. "did you have fun the other night when we went out to the bar?"
alexa looked at you weirdly.
shit. you must not have been as subtle as you thought.
"i did," she said. "but what makes you ask."
you shrugged. "i know it's been rough with your breakup lately, but i saw you talking to mat and you looked happy."
alexa groaned and sunk into the couch. "i thought we talked about this already. he knows he's attractive, it's such a turn off. you should've seen the way he was talking, it was like he knew that if he gave me a look, i'd be going home with him."
"well he's really nice, i promise! you should see him with kids at the stadium--"
"you mean the kids who idolize him? yeah i bet he's real nice to them."
okay, switch strategies.
"he tips waitstaff really well!"
"with what he makes? he better." alexa sighed. "listen, i'd be more impressed if he could tell me anything about you, but seeing as you've worked there for two years and he couldn't tell me anything other than your name the other night says all i need to know about him. so can we talk about something else?"
you nodded, ignoring the jutting pain in your chest at her words. you knew well enough that mat knew nothing about you, why would he? but to hear it come from the mouth of someone else stung.
getting them together was gonna be harder than you originally thought.
step two: get them interacting
you were dreading the next time you saw mat for the first time in your life. you were in your cubicle editing photos from the game that night to be posted tomorrow to distract yourself from the inevitable conversation you'd have to have with him. tyler, unfortunately got the shot that was posted immediately to the islanders' instagram account to celebrate their win over the rangers and he had no problem letting you know it. and while it was annoying, it served as a great distraction from your other problem.
"maybe you'll get it next time," he sneered as he packed his bag. most days you hated the fact that you were cubicle neighbors, but neither of you were powerful enough to request moving spaces. and even if you could, you knew it would just make you look hard to work with.
"have a good night, tyler," you replied, not even wanting to give him any ammo to use against you.
the door shut behind him with a click, locking you into sweet sweet silence.
until a minute later when your phone went off with a text message.
mat barzal: where ru?
mat barzal: wanna go to a bar with me and tito and you can bring alexa?
you scoffed. "you can bring alexa," you mocked under your breath. "like that's not the sole reason for you asking me to go out tonight." you packed your bag up and shot a quick text to alexa, asking if she wanted to go out. she replied with an immediate yes, asking where to meet you, which prompted you to reach out to mat who sent you an address in response.
which is how you ended up on a sidewalk in front of an incredibly busy bar with alexa next to you.
"i've never been here," she remarked. "how'd you hear about it?"
"oh, a coworker mentioned it," you said in what was hopefully a nonchalant manner.
she looked at you a moment too long before grabbing your hand and pulling you inside. "you find us a place to sit and i'll grab our drinks!" she shouted over the music.
you quickly looked around for mat and tito, the former who'd texted you the second they arrived. you saw a head of dark hair and immediately knew it was mat. you hurried over, panting when you arrived from having to shove your way towards them.
"you made it!" anthony said. you looked at him and mat, eyes bouncing back and forth between them, when you realized your first problem.
they were sitting on opposite sides of the booth.
which meant you would have to sit with one of them, and alexa would have to sit with the other. if mat had it his way, he'd sit next to alexa, but you knew your friend wouldn't have that. she'd feel manipulated and uncomfortable.
"is there a problem?" tito asked.
you gestured to the booth. "alexa will want to sit by me. she's still not convinced about you, mat."
mat, to his credit, didn't look shocked or offended, he just shrugged and moved to tito's side. "this work?" he asked as you sat down.
you nodded.
"so what's the plan? how should i approach this?" he asked.
"keep the conversation on her, when she tries to turn it on you or about your career, focus on other people, applaud your teammates, your coaches, but whatever you do, don't talk about yourself too much. she already thinks you have a big ego."
"to be fair," tito started. "he does."
mat didn't even dignify that with a response. "so keep the conversation on her and others, got it."
alexa found you a moment later and didn't do a great job covering up her disinterest in sitting with mat and beau.
"i couldn't find anywhere to sit," you explained.
alexa didn't buy it if her eyes bouncing around the bar to find empty tables said anything. but she sat next to you anyway, placing your drink in front of you.
"you remember mat and anthony from the other night, right?" you asked.
she just hummed and took a sip of her drink.
"so, alexa," mat started. "what do you do for a living?"
she stared at him and sighed. "i'm a vet tech," she said, but offered no other information.
"she especially loves the cats," you added.
"cats are great!" mat said a little too enthusiastically.
alexa drained the rest of her glass and got up, leaving the three of you behind.
the second she was gone, beau broke into laughter, slapping his own chest. "that was fucking hilarious," he said.
"yeah yeah yeah, laugh it up," mat grumbled, swirling his cup around instead of making eye contact with anyone.
"i'm serious, i don't think i've ever seen you fail so quickly. it's kind of amazing."
mat focused his eyes on you. "what did i do wrong? i tried asking about her life and she seemed wholly uninterested."
you shrugged. "i don't know! maybe she feels cornered?"
tito took a sip of his beer. "i think you need to workshop this. clearly, neither of you thought this through."
you groaned and rested your head on the table.
this was already harder than you anticipated.
step three: reevaluate and regroup
you met mat in a booth of a coffee shop after you got off work. he was staring at his phone when you walked in, completely unaware that you even existed.
which wasn't abnormal considering you didn't even think he knew who you were a few months ago. but the second the barista called your order out, his head whipped up.
you could've sworn time stopped at that moment.
you made your way towards him and plopped down in the booth opposite of him.
"hi," you smiled. "what's up?"
"i don't know what to do, she doesn't seem interested in me." he groaned into his hands before running one of them through his hair.
god he was so attractive.
you snapped out of your reverie. "listen, you've got what it takes, we just need to reevaluate our strategy. i think the bar thing was a bad idea, she felt ambushed and it probably set us back a little, but i have an idea."
he leaned his forearms on the table. "let's hear it."
"practice dates," you said.
mat blinked once. twice. a third time before he spoke. "practice dates?"
"okay hear me out," you said, pulling a notepad out of the bag you brought. "i have a list of things that alexa likes to do and i was thinking, you and i can do them and work on conversations and how to approach her. so when the time comes, you don't feel out of your element."
"who said i feel out of my element?"
you stared at him. "you said last night 'cats are great!' and expected conversation to flow naturally."
"okay so not my best moment."
"not even close." you sighed. "listen, i wanna help you, and i feel like this is your best bet in winning her over."
mat ran a hand down his face. "okay fine. what's the first date?"
practice date one: pumpkin patch
to be quite frank, you were nervous when proposing the idea, scared that he wouldn't be willing to sit in a car with you for three hours just to get to the pumpkin patch. and maybe he would find it childish.
when in fact, he said nothing about the long car ride, he even offered to pick you up from your apartment, and laughed when you offered to pay for gas. when you finally arrived, you jumped out of mat's car like an excited child. mat stepped out like he knew he was the romantic lead in a movie, suave and collected.
you two could not be more opposite of each other.
it took everything in you to focus on the task at hand, and not fall deeper in love with him. but how could you not? when he looked so boyfriend in a coat and flannel and beanie and jeans that hugged his thighs just right--
you were getting ahead of yourself. you were doing this for mat and alexa, not your own selfish ambition.
"so what's the plan?" he asked after locking his car with the key fob.
you shrugged. "what would you do if you were here with alexa?" the words tasted bitter in your mouth. it was such a painful reminder, knowing that this wasn't real and was in service to hook him up with your friend.
mat looked around and shoved his hands in his pockets. "corn maze?" he pointed. you must've made a face because he spoke up again. "what?"
"alexa hates corn mazes."
he paused. "to the pumpkin patch then?" you nodded and followed his lead. "so how did you meet alexa?"
"she was my first roommate in college, we shared the smallest dorm in history."
"that sounds like an exaggeration."
"says the man who never went to college."
he laughed. "i don't need a college education to identify a hyperbole when i hear one."
you gasped and looked at him with wide eyes. "a hyperbole? what a word."
"laugh it up," he said. "but i'm not a complete idiot, you know."
"never said you were. i just haven't heard anyone use hyperbole in a sentence outside of my english lit classes."
"well, you should know i'm full of surprises."
the two of you approached the pumpkin patch and started weaving between families and the occasional rogue toddler. mat had to tug you out of the way a few times when you about stepped on a child because you were gazing at pumpkins.
"if you don't mind me asking," mat started. "why are you helping me? you don't owe me anything. i feel like i'm taking advantage of your kindness."
you shrugged. "you wouldn't be the first one."
"what's that supposed to mean?" you looked up from the pumpkin patch to see mat's brows furrowed together and his mouth twisted in a cute frown.
"well, i mean, i've been told i have a habit of being a doormat at times."
"who said that?" his tone had changed to a softer one.
"huh?" you asked.
"who called you a doormat?"
you shrugged again, that seemed to be your go to move around him. you squatted down to look at a particularly fat pumpkin, inspecting all sides of it before you responded. "i've heard it all my life, some have said it in meaner ways, others have been nicer about it."
"i'm sorry," he said.
you stood to your full height which was still much shorter than mat's. "why? it's not like it's not true."
"what if i helped you?"
it was your turn to frown. "help me? with what? ice skating?"
mat rolled his eyes. "no, with confidence. maybe even get you a date."
you guffawed, mouth opening and closing like a fish. "what?"
mat pulled you out of the way of yet another child and kept his hand on your elbow until you were clear of the pumpkin roots. and if your heart stopped for a few seconds, that was your business, no one else's. "you heard me. you're young, single, and attractive and you spend all your free time at the office or DDing for your friends. we can work on your confidence and get you out there."
"i don't know..." though your mind was still focused on the fact that he'd called you attractive.
"what about that other photographer guy? tony?"
you cackled. straight up burst into laughter. "tyler? that's fucking hilarious mat."
"what?" the two of you continued down the patch, occasionally gazing at the pumpkins, but mostly just talking. "you two are always talking."
talking or being insulted?
you shook your head. "enough about me, we're here for alexa."
mat nudged you with his elbow. "actually we're here for me to win alexa over."
you kicked a small stone with the toe of your shoe and said nothing. the tragedy of your own personal situation wasn't lost on you, neither was the idiocy of your plan. what were you thinking, spending your free time with mat? to win over your friend?
it was textbook self inflicted torture.
"where'd you go?" mat nudged you again. "i lost you there for a second."
you bent down and picked up a smaller pumpkin. "what do you think about this one?"
"it looks fine. you're ignoring my question."
you juggled the pumpkin back and forth in your hands to determine if you liked it or not. "what question?" you looked up just in time to see mat roll his eyes, but he dropped the topic anyway.
the both of you walked over to the stall to pay for the pumpkin. you reached into your tote bag to grab your wallet, but mat was already holding out a five dollar bill to the vendor.
"you didn't have to--"
"do you wanna get some cider?"
you could've started drooling at the idea of drinking cider. "yes!"
mat chuckled and started walking towards the cider stand where a small family waited in front of you. "does alexa like cider?" he asked.
"what a random question."
"well you're not giving me anything to work with!"
you almost groaned. because he was right. you got caught up in the idea of hanging out with mat outside of work that you forgot the real reason both of you were there in the first place.
"she loves cider, especially when it's spiked. she also loves mulled wine." mat scrunched his face up. "not a fan?" you asked.
"warm wine? no thank you."
mat paid for the cider, going as far as having the cash ready before you could even order.
"you really don't have to keep buying things. i can pay!"
"oh this is all a bribe to get you to go through that corn maze with me."
your face dropped. "alexa doesn't like mazes."
"so i won't go with her next time, but you're here now and i wanna go."
you let him drag you along until you were in the thick of the maze. you let him guide the both of you through it like he knew what he was doing even though you were pretty sure you hit every possible dead end in the maze.
two little kids ran past giggling and smiling. "we found the end, mama!"
you almost laughed at the look of irritation on mat's face.
it took an obscene amount of time to get through the maze, and mat was in a much worse mood when it was all over.
needless to say, the ride home was quiet.
practice date 2: dinner at mat's
you weren't quite sure what mat was planning on making for dinner, but you were willing to bet the smell of smoke wasn't a part of the plan.
the scene when you walked into his apartment could only be described as chaotic. the smoke detector was going off and when you walked into the kitchen, mat was going between waving a towel under the detector and opening every window in his kitchen.
"you weren't supposed to be here yet!" he shouted over the noise before darting past you into the living room to open the windows in there.
you dropped your things on the counter and took over waving the towel under the smoke detector.
"what happened?" you asked.
"i suck at cooking!" he came back in the kitchen and took the towel from you. "i'm taller," he said like that was an explanation.
the beeping ceased and left the two of you in a hazy apartment. when you looked around the kitchen, you saw what had to be charred meat and veggies in a skillet.
"okay so when you cook dinner for alexa, don't. just hire a chef."
mat held up his phone. "or order pizza. you in?"
"do i get to financially contribute?"
he gestured to your belongings on the counter, one of which was a bottle of red wine. "you already did."
"you can't keep buying everything," you said. "it's not fair."
"why not? i'm the millionaire here, i'd look like a dick if i made you pay for anything. besides, when i date alexa, it's not like i'm gonna let my girlfriend pay."
girlfriend.
right.
that was the end goal for him.
you kept forgetting.
you cleared your throat and dusted your hands on your pants despite them being clean.
"you can go pick out a movie or something while i order the pizza?" mat suggested.
you had no choice but to nod and wander into his moderately decorated living room. it definitely still looked like a bachelor pad, but if a bachelor had enough money to hire someone to say he needed artwork, decorative pillows, and a couch that wasn't brown.
you were scrolling through netflix when mat came into the living room and plopped on the sectional beside you, shucking his shoes off. why he was wearing shoes in his own apartment was beyond you, but you weren't one to judge.
"you look nice," he commented, as if just noticing you for the first time that night.
you looked down at your own outfit. it was a pair of jeans and a nice blouse. "this?"
"are you wearing something else that i'm not seeing?" he teased.
before you could die of embarrassment, you switched subjects. "what do you want to watch? i haven't made a decision yet." you handed the remote to him, hating being the one to make the decisions.
he shifted on the couch so he was sitting up instead of lounging on the chaise and took the remote. "what's alexa's favorite movie?"
"birdbox."
mat did a double take. "she likes birdbox?"
you shrugged. "she's into suspense."
mat was about to select birdbox until he took one look on your face. you don't know what you looked like but it made him pause. "but are you?"
"why do you care what i like?"
"because you're here, alexa's not. i don't wanna make you watch something you'd hate." mat shifted on the couch. "why don't we work on those dating tips i talked to you about."
"oh i don't think--"
"why not?" he asked. "you're always so jittery whenever we talk about it."
oh.
was he referring to the other day after practice when he saw tyler tormenting you and mat misinterpreted that as flirty banter? mat had come up to you afterwards to give you pointers but you practically ran away.
"it's not that simple, mat."
"i think it is."
you threw your hands up. "well then, by all means you must be right."
"what's with the attitude?" he asked. "did i say something?"
it was a good question. one that shouldn't make you want to cry, but life felt overwhelming in all the worst ways. between tyler harassing you every second of every day and pretending like you weren't in love with mat so you could set him up with your friend, and taking photos for games and practices, you were exhausted.
"i'm not sober enough for this," you said before getting up and popping the cork on the wine bottle and drinking straight from it.
it was another thirty minutes before the pizza arrived and the both of you were well on your way to wine drunk, you more so than mat. who could blame you though? your life was a sad excuse for a single twenty-something and you were tired of thinking about it.
"truth is," mat started with a mouth full of pizza. "you just need to act like you're the best thing that's ever happened to this city. guys love confident women."
"and that's your biggest issue with alexa right now."
"wanna switch personalities?"
you laughed.
"what?" he asked. "what's so funny?"
"i'm trying to picture you without an ego and i don't think it's possible."
mat rolled his eyes but had a smile on his lips anyway. it shouldn't have made your heart pound the way it did, but you were weak for that man, you had been since day one.
so you switched courses.
"okay," you started. "how do i make get a guy to wanna date me?"
mats eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "you're serious?"
you nodded. "as a heart attack."
mat sat up on the couch and faced you. his eyes scanned your face like he was looking for something but couldn't find it. maybe he was looking for a reason to change the subject.
"alright," he said. "you gotta be confident, even if you don't feel like it. most guys don't mind a little insecurity, they find it kinda cute, but a guy who wants an insecure girl is a red flag."
"should i be taking notes or...?" you took a large sip of your wine and smiled when mat rolled his eyes again.
"secondly, you can't be hiding behind your camera all the time."
you guffawed. "i do not hide behind my camera!"
"oh give me a break, you totally do! you walk around like it's a safety blanket or something."
"because it is!"
"exactly my point! thirdly, chivalry isn't dead. if he's not doing basic things like opening doors, walking on the closest side to the street, and he's only talking about himself? run."
"what? he can't be a good person if he doesn't do those things?"
"if he can't do a basic kind gesture, he's not going to do larger ones. sorry. i don't make the rules."
you blinked. "but you kinda are making the rules for me, right now."
"you're such a smart ass, just like tito."
"is that a good or bad thing?"
mat shrugged and took another bite of pizza. "hard to say, i love tito most days."
love.
don't be an idiot and read into things.
"so," mat leaned back into the couch. "i gave you advice, it's my turn. how do i win over alexa?"
you thought back to the conversation you had with her a few weeks ago about mat. and one comment stuck out the most. "i think the biggest sin you committed was not knowing anything about me despite working together for two years," you admitted shyly.
mat's brows furrowed in that cute way they always did. "what do you mean?"
"she said she's not impressed by you being nice to kid fans or tipping waitstaff. she would be impressed if you knew anything about me because i'm not a hockey player."
mat recoiled as if physically struck by your words. "she thinks that low of you?"
"no she didn't mean to say you were--" you paused. "me? you think she has a low opinion of me?"
mat crossed his arms. "she just insinuated that you weren't important enough for me to know."
"no! that's not what she meant! she was saying that you think you're better than me."
"that's not even remotely true." and he said it so confidently, you almost believed him. "it's not, you know that right?"
you hesitated and you might as well have punched him in the gut.
mat said your name so softly like it was precious. like it was something special. "you have to know, i have never, not once, believed you were beneath me."
you gave him a small smile. "you don't need to explain yourself to me, mat."
he reached over and grabbed your hand, tugging on it lightly. "no. i need you to know, you are important to me."
your heart fluttered at his words, or maybe it was the fact that you were holding hands and you could feel the calluses rub against your own palm.
you could've stayed there forever.
"jesus fucking christ, why does it smell like something burned in here?" the front door opened and slammed sending you and mat sprawling apart like you hadn't been locked in a staring contest and holding hands. tito rounded the corner and crossed his arms, a smug expression on his face. "what do we have here?"
"nothing!" you squeaked out. "i was just leaving!"
"no you weren't," mat started, eyes wide with an emotion you couldn't place. "beau was just leaving."
you looked as confused as tito was. "what? no i'm not." you glanced back at mat who could not have looked more annoyed if he tried. "or i can...?"
"no!" you said. "i need to get going anyway. got work tomorrow, long day."
mat stood up when he realized there was no convincing you. "i can walk you out--"
"don't worry about it! i'm a big girl." you were leaving when you heard whisper shouting. you couldn't fully make out what they were saying, but before you shut the front door behind you, you could've sworn you heard them mention "liking her."
you did your best not to let the talking break your heart even more.
practice date 3: ice skating
you made mat pick out the last date but he hadn't told you what it was, just asked for your shoe size.
aside from that?
radio silence.
maybe you should've seen this coming. you'd talked to alexa a few days ago and she'd suggested that maybe you should put yourself out there more, find a date, find a boyfriend, find some happiness.
after practice, you found yourself scrolling through your camera roll in one of the seats in the arena when a pair of skates came into your peripheral. you looked up expecting to see a mop of black hair and hazel eyes.
but it was tito with a sheepish grin on his face.
"hey," he said.
you put your camera down and smiled. it was always good to see tito, with the exception of the other night. "hey, what can i do for you?"
anthony playfully rolled his eyes. "you don't live to serve us," he said. "i don't need anything, just wanted to say hi."
"hi!" you smiled even brighter.
"i was wondering, what're you doing friday night?"
you jaw dropped. and it must've been funny because tito threw his head back and laughed. "what?"
tito smiled at you and gestured towards you. "i was wondering if you'd want to get dinner with me on friday. i don't know what time you get off work, but i was thinking 6:30?"
you blinked. you blinked again. "are you serious?"
"why wouldn't i be? you're attractive, single, and i like your company. i think we'd have a fun time."
"okay," you smiled again. have you ever smiled this much in your life? you were unsure. "okay yeah, friday at 6:30 is perfect."
"great," tito grinned. "can i have your number?" you handed your phone over rather quickly, watching as he typed his number in and texted himself. "i'll see you," he said.
"bye tito!" you waved until he was out of sight. and even then, you continued to stare at the spot he was once occupying.
"what the hell was that about?"
you jumped about a foot in the air when tyler made his comment from over your shoulder. "jesus fucking christ, tyler." you placed a hand over your heart to feel how rapidly it was beating. "are you some sort of lurker?"
"what did beauvillier want with you?" he condescended.
"it's none of your business." you rolled your eyes when your phone buzzed.
mat barzal: come down to the locker room.
"who is that?" he asked, peering over your shoulder, but you stood up and started walking away.
the both of you headed down to the locker rooms, though you weren't really enjoying the company. tyler kept talking about your lackluster photography skills like the both of you didn't have the exact same job title.
you were rounding the corner when you saw mat leaning up against the wall, still in his hockey gear. tyler, being confronted with an audience, immediately departed. if you had to guess, he probably went back to his office to scheme how else to make your life miserable.
"hey," you said as you approached. "what's up?"
mat reached down and tossed a duffle bag at your feet. "open the bag," he directed.
you squatted and opened the zipper to see a pair of ice skates. you looked up at mat who looked pleased with himself. "what're these for?"
"you ever been ice skating?" he asked.
the short answer? no.
the long answer? once in second grade for a field trip.
"kinda?" you said instead.
mat laughed, like an actual laugh. there was a shiver that went down your spine at the very sound of it. "it's a yes or no question."
"i would say yes, but i was like eight."
"yeah, doesn't really count anymore. grab the bag, let's go." he walked off without a second thought, leaving you scrambling with the bag and rushing after him.
"what's the point of this?" you called after him.
"you told me to pick the last date, this is it!"
you stopped walking immediately. "mat, i don't know if this is a good idea..."
as if sensing your hesitation, mat turned around and walked back towards you. he rested his hands on your shoulders and squeezed lightly, ducking his head down towards yours. "i'm not gonna let anything bad happen to you, i promise. you have nothing to be afraid of."
"what if my boss sees? what if lou sees? i'm a lot more replaceable than you are."
mat scoffed. "first of all, you're not replaceable. second of all, it's gonna be fine. i'll take all the heat if we get in trouble, which we won't because it's not a big deal." he reached down and grabbed your hand that wasn't holding the duffle bag. "now c'mon."
he led you out to the bench where you sat down and placed your camera on the bench. "take your shoes off and put these socks on." he tossed a pair of socks at your head that you barely caught in time.
"but i'm already wearing socks," you said.
"these are longer, unless you want the boot to cut into your ankle."
safe to say, you put the socks on.
mat knelt in front of you to help put the skates on, tying them up so they were secure on your feet.
you wanted to swoon at the sight of him before you. thankfully, he stood up and helped you to your feet before you could start imagining anything preposterous.
like him proposing.
you watched as mat slid over the top of the bench railing and onto the ice. he turned around and looked at you expectantly.
"oh hell no," you said. "where's the door, i'll use the door."
he cackled as you walked and opened the door, but skated to you anyway to give you some assistance when stepping onto the ice.
"easy does it," he said, chuckling when your grip was practically crushing his fingers. "you're okay, i'm not gonna let you fall."
"it's not you i don't trust, it's me."
mat kept a grip on your hands and led you out to the center of the ice. on the way to the center, you slipped twice, a squeak leaving your lips. you quickly latched onto mat who only laughed at your death grip on his forearms.
"it's not funny," you whined. "i'm terrified."
"you're right, it's not funny. but it is cute." he removed your hands from his arms and skated away from you. "okay, now come to me."
he was easily twenty feet away.
you glanced down at the ice and then back at mat. you would've sat down if you knew how to without eating it. "mat, i'm telling you right now, that's not gonna happen."
"it's not that hard."
"you've been skating since you were a child. i have not." you attempted to take a step forward, but thought differently of it. "besides, how does this help you with alexa?"
"easy," he said. "if i can teach you to skate, i can teach anyone."
"so your idea of a romantic date is a girl busting her ass over and over for an hour?"
"not quite," he said, skating circles around you.
literally.
"you're being an ass,' you whined. "why did the one practice date you pick out have to do with hockey?"
"because it's what i love. and if a girl can't hang with it, our relationship is doomed to fail."
you rolled your eyes. "that's a bit dramatic. you can appreciate and love hockey without having to ice skate. thousands of fans do it all the time."
"but my girlfriend won't be just a fan, now will she?"
your heart sank at the idea of alexa and mat in a similar situation. alexa actually trying to skate and looking beautiful while doing so. you pictured them laughing as she slipped and mat catching her before she could fall.
"you okay? i lost you again." mat skated right up to you, leaving maybe a foot of space between the two of you.
"yeah," you breathed. "just thinking."
mat smirked and skated backwards. "uh oh. that can't be good. less thinking more skating. would it help if i pushed you?"
"no!" you shrieked. "it definitely wouldn't!"
but it was too late. mat was skating up behind you and placing his hands on your waist. "relax," he murmured. "i'm not gonna push you without a little guidance."
relax?
relax?
when his hands were on your waist and he was mumbling in your ear?
how the hell was anyone supposed to live, laugh, love in these conditions?
mat added a little pressure to your back. and suddenly you were moving. "that's it," he praised. "now just move your feet."
it was easier with mat's hands on you, the sensation forcing you to focus on the warmth of his palms than the fact that you were skating on sharp knives.
"see? this isn't so bad, right?"
it wasn't too terribly bad, truth be told it was just like roller skating, just ten times scarier.
"yeah," you said. "not too bad."
"so you're ready to go by yourself?" his hands starting slipping away, leaving a burning sensation in their wake.
"i--"
but he was already skating away. he stopped about twenty feet away and smiled. "skate to me."
"mat--" your voice shook at the idea. skating with him was one thing, skating to him was another.
"hey," he said quietly. "eyes on me, okay? i'm not gonna let you fall, if i think you're gonna fall, i'll catch you. i was the fastest skater in 2020, remember?"
you nodded. "just like roller skating," you mumbled.
"except better," mat added.
you took a deep breath and put one foot in front of the other, slowly but surely gliding towards him. you started picking up pace the closer you got to him.
"mat?"
"you're doing great!" he smiled.
"i don't know how to stop!"
mat laughed even as he caught you. his arms gripped your biceps and his smile was a mile wide. "you okay?" he asked.
you couldn't help but smile. "yeah," you breathed.
there was hardly any room between the two of you. your heart was beating wildly in your chest at the proximity, the rush of skating alone, who knew? you surely didn't.
you looked into his eyes and could've sworn his gaze dropped to your chin, but you were known for your hopeless romantic delusions, so maybe--
"hey!" whatever trance you were in ended when you saw a man in coveralls standing at the end of the rink. "time's up, i gotta clean the ice!"
"sorry!" mat called. "we'll get out of your way!" he gently took your hand in his and skated the both of you back to the benches.
mat helped you take off your skates and walked you back up the tunnel towards the locker rooms. the both of you stopped just outside of them, considering mat still had to shower and go home while you had the rest of the day to do your work.
"this was really fun," you said. "terrifying but fun."
"i'm glad you enjoyed it." his smile just about made you collapse into a puddle.
but you got a grip on reality and nodded. "well, i hope this helps with alexa, i'll try to talk to her in the next day or so, see where her head is."
mat's jaw clenched but he nodded. "i'll be seeing you."
"bye, mat."
you might as well have been on cloud nine by the time you got up to your office. you were in a different zone, focused on the way that mat's hands felt on your body, in your own hand. the feeling of euphoria wouldn't leave your body, you were sure of it. nothing could take that feeling away.
until you got to your desk and saw tyler.
who was sitting on your desk and using a paper clip to get the dirt out from under his nails.
"what were you and barzal doing?" tyler asked, moving off your desk, instead choosing to lean up against the cubicle.
you ignored him.
"i asked you a question," he said.
"i heard you, tyler. but i have work to do." you signed into your computer and plugged your camera in, ready to start uploading and editing photos from practice and the game yesterday.
“do you really think sleeping your way through the roster will help you get your pics chosen for the social media accounts?” he sneered.
you froze, your fingers hovered over the keyboard. "what?"
"i said--"
"don't repeat it." another voice joined in and when you turned around to see who came in, you were flabbergasted.
mat.
"barzal i--"
"where do you get off talking to her like that? talking to anyone like that?" he stepped into the room, chest puffed out.
in all of your time working for the isles, mat had never been much of a fighter, but he looked ready to pummel tyler if need be.
"mat, it's fine," you mumbled.
"no, it's not. is this how he normally talks to you?"
you said nothing.
that only seemed to make mat angrier. "you need to go to HR about this. this is workplace harassment. now apologize," he directed at tyler.
"for what? speaking the truth? is this how you think you can get ahead in life?" tyler said to you. "first beauvillier now barzal?"
you and mat both froze. in the corner of your eye you could see his jaw clench before he looked at you.
"can you do your work from home?" he asked.
you nodded. "i just have a shit ton of editing but i can do that on my laptop--"
"great. i'll take you home."
"but my boss-"
"if anyone has a problem with it, they can talk to me. let's go." mat was spinning on his heel and walking out of the room as quickly as he came in. you were unplugging your camera and logging off your computer, packing up your things, before sprinting after him.
"mat! mat, wait up!"
he stopped walking and looked at you, an unfamiliar expression in his eyes. "can you wait for me outside the locker room? i still have to shower and change."
you nodded. "why did you come upstairs anyway?"
"to give you the skates." you glanced down at his empty hands. "i forgot the bag, and by that point, i was too lazy to go down and get them without you."
the both of you continued your walk until you got to the locker room.
"i'll be a few minutes and then i'll take you home."
true to his word, mat was only gone for ten minutes before coming out freshly showered and ready to go home. neither of you spoke until he was pulling the car out of the parking garage.
"what did tyler mean when he mentioned tito?" mat asked after moments of silence. his fists were gripping the wheel tightly, though you didn't know why.
"tito asked me to dinner on friday."
mat's fists tightened their grip on the wheel and his jaw clenched so hard, you were afraid he was going to chip some teeth.
"oh." was all he said.
"something wrong? i just figured for once i wouldn't be hiding behind my camera like you said and i thought it would be fun, you know? we get along fine. why? do you think i shouldn't go?"
"no!" mat said quickly. "no, i just, it just caught me by surprise is all. i'm sure you'll have fun."
"and i can give you alexa's number if you want to ask her out! she's coming over tonight so i can talk you up now that i know more about you, make it seem more genuine."
"yeah," he choked out. "yeah, that would be great."
mat pulled up to your apartment a few minutes later and watched as you got out. "i meant what i said in your office," he said. "you need to tell HR about tyler's behavior."
"i will." you probably wouldn't. "thanks, mat."
he nodded as you shut the door and waited for you to go inside before driving off.
you walked up the stairs to your apartment and unlocked the door. as you shut the door behind you, you felt the weight of today bearing down.
tito asking you out.
the moments with mat.
the slut shaming comment from tyler.
when did your life get so dramatic?
step 4: get her to say yes
you had alexa over that night, armed with a million reasons why she should say yes to mat.
and the one reason why she should say no was locked deep in your chest. your happiness and affection for him shouldn't deter her.
besides, you would eventually get over your silly little crush, right?
right?
"so what's new in your world? i feel like you've been so busy lately. it's kind of strange," alexa said before shoveling a forkful of pasta in her mouth. it should've been disgusting, but she made it look graceful.
"oh you know, just working."
"is that why you were in the middle of nowhere a few weeks ago? work?"
"what?"
"i checked your location, you were on a farm. didn't realize the isles was doing photoshoots that far out of the city."
"oh they're not," you explained. "i was with mat, we were just hanging out."
alexa blinked. "since when do you and mat hang out?"
ouch.
but true.
you couldn't come out and say it could you? that the reason the two of you started interacting was because he wanted to date alexa?
no, you couldn't.
so you lied.
"oh, the social media team wanted me to get some information on mat, like a get to know you segment. they wanted something outside of work, so we were just hanging out so i could write this article on him."
a complete lie. you haven't had to write anything on anyone since your college journalism class. but alexa didn't know that. you never told her what you do all day for work. for all she knew, you could be running the tiktok account.
alexa raised an eyebrow. "and how did that go? was he talking about himself the entire time?"
"no!" you said. but then you paused, realizing that getting defensive would just look suspicious. "he told me a lot about how he doesn't like mulled wine and loves corn mazes despite being absolutely shitty at them. he loves his friends and hockey, obviously. he refuses to let anyone pay for anything while you're with him because he has money and likes to treat people. and he sticks up for the people that are important to him. and once you're in with him, you don't have to worry about your place in his life or how important you are because he will keep reminding you."
alexa stared at you. "are you sure you don't want to go out with him?"
you guffawed and hoped that it covered up your embarrassment. "what? no! he's clearly into you, and i think you should go for it."
"give me one good reason why."
"because he's kind, and nothing like your ex. he cares, legitimately cares about people and their lives." you sighed, not sure if you were convincing her. “it’s just one date, lex. if you don’t like him at least you got a free meal.”
alexa chewed her lip, letting you anguish in silence. "fine. you can give him my number and we'll set up a date. i trust you."
"fantastic!" you were already pulling your phone out. "he'll be so excited--"
"only if you can look me in the eye and tell me you don't have feelings for him."
you opened and closed your mouth. "i don't have feelings for him," you said with as much confidence as you could.
"honey..."
"no! i don't! if i had feelings for him, would i be going out to dinner with his best friend on friday?"
alexa didn't look fully convinced, but your date with tito was a welcomed distraction as she started rattling off questions about what you would wear and where he was taking you.
alexa left two hours later, meaning you could go to bed at a reasonable hour. as you laid in bed, you grabbed your phone and opened mat's contact, drafting a text to him.
here's alexa's number. managed to convince her you were worth a shot. xxx-xxx-xxxx.
you locked your phone and put it on do not disturb before you could see his response.
when you woke up the next morning, you saw mat had simply liked the message and left it at that.
by noon, alexa texted you that her date with mat was on saturday.
step 5: let the dates begin
friday came faster than you were anticipating. you kept your distance from mat, unable to look at him without thinking about how he was taking your friend out the very next day and that your interactions from that point on would probably be through alexa.
tyler kept his distance, must've been the threat of going to HR (that you still hadn't gone through with) that had him treating you like a human being with feelings.
as for tito, you probably should've been more excited for your date that night, but all you could focus on was how mat and alexa would fall in love and get married and have beautiful babies and grow old together.
and you would be the sucker who set them up because you could never tell mat no.
a slam against the boards startled you enough to look up from your camera to see tito standing there with a smile on his face.
"you okay?" he asked over the sounds of his teammates on the ice.
you gave him what you hoped was a convincing smile and nodded. but he rolled his eyes.
"we'll talk later," he said before skating away. you smiled and waved at him before you made eye contact with mat who was clenching his jaw. at what? you weren't sure. you even turned around to see if tyler had entered the arena, but you were standing alone.
like you always were.
you were headed back to your desk to do some editing as practice let out, but your name was called before you could get away.
when you looked over your shoulder, you saw tito doing an awkward half jog half walk towards you with a tired grin on his face. "hey," he said. "how do you think practice went?"
you turned to face him fully. "you're asking me? a professional asking some photographer how practice went?"
tito rolled his eyes. "oh c'mon. you've seen our practices, by now you should be able to determine whether or not it was a good one."
"well, no one fought each other, so i guess that's a win."
tito shook his head. "nah, that's when the best practices happen. when everyone's pissed at each other."
you smiled. "shows what i know."
"i think you know more than you think. you've worked here for awhile now."
"i've just gotten better at motion capture photography and following the puck around the ice. doesn't mean i know shit about hockey."
"don't think we don't notice you getting riled up during games when calls are missed."
you tilted your head and furrowed your brows. "we?"
tito shrugged and laughed to himself. "mat usually points it out before i can." you must've made a face because he added more. "it's usually on the bench, he's focused on the game when he's playing."
the both of you turn your heads at the other players walking down the tunnel. when the both of you caught sight of mat, tito smiled.
"will you send me your address? so i can pick you up?"
your attention snapped back to tito. "yeah! of course!"
he nodded and started his walk towards the locker rooms right when mat walked up to you. "what was that about?" he asked.
you shrugged. "just going over details for tonight. he needs my address to pick me up."
mat clenched his jaw again and looked down the tunnel, nodding his head. "that's tonight?"
"yep. at 6:30."
he wouldn't meet your eyes. instead, he looked at your shoes, your camera, the hallway, his teammates, but would never look at your face.
"you and alexa go out tomorrow, right? where are you taking her?"
he ran a hand through his hair and nodded at anders as he passed by. "yeah, we're going out to this sushi place. did you ever talk to HR?"
"well no but--"
"do i need to talk to HR?"
"he really hasn't been that bad lately--"
"because i threatened to tell HR on his ass. he's gonna get comfortable and start insulting you again. it's just a matter of time."
you nodded, feeling a lump in your throat form at the idea of mat scolding you, in front of his teammates no less.
mat sighed and ran a hand through his hair again. "i'm not trying to fuss or tell you what to do, i just don't like seeing you treated like that."
"thanks, mat," you mumbled.
he still wouldn't meet your eyes, instead looking down the hallway to see most of his team in the locker room. "i gotta go, but um, good luck tonight. beau's a good guy."
with that he turned on his skates and walked away.
you felt every bit of pathetic as you watched him go.
that night, you settled on a pretty dress that wasn't too fancy, seeing as the only details tito had given you were that it was nicer than an olive garden but not a michelin star restaurant. you were strapping yourself into your heels when you heard a knock on the door.
your phone said it was only 6:15, but maybe tito was accounting for traffic. he never did specify when the reservation was.
"coming!" you called as you put your last heel on and made your way to the door. "i wasn't expecting you this early, you never told me when the reservation was--" your voice trailed off when you opened the door and saw who was standing on the other side.
mat.
he looked more disheveled than you'd ever seen him. it was clear he'd been running his hands through his hair repeatedly just by the strands sticking out every which way.
he still looked handsome.
"mat, what're you--"
"i think you're beautiful. and smart. and passionate about a lot of things. and i think anyone who tells you otherwise is an idiot, and i'd fight them if you'd let me." your eyes started welling up with tears. "i think you're perfect for me and if you'd let me take you out, i promise i'll spend the rest of my life proving it to you."
you blinked until the tears disappeared by sheer willpower, not willing to cry in front of him. "that's perfect," you said. "say that to lex and she'll be eating out of the palm of your hand."
you turned around to grab your bag and coat before you could see mat's face drop in confusion. by the time you turned back around, anthony was standing next to his best friend.
"you ready?" he asked, only glancing at mat out of the side of his eye.
you nodded and squeezed mat's arm as you passed; you couldn't help yourself. "get home safe, mat."
neither you or tito spoke until you got into his car. "what was that about?" he asked.
you shrugged. still not fully comprehending why mat showed up at your door in the first place. "he was telling me what he was gonna tell lex tomorrow, i think."
"really." he didn't sound convinced.
"why else would he show up?"
tito mumbled. "i can think of a few reasons."
after he parked the car, tito got out and opened the door for you while you were answering texts from alexa. he offered you a hand to get out that you took.
there were no sparks, no electric sensations going up your arm. just physical contact, just the warmth of his palm in yours.
he led you into the restaurant which was moderately fancy, like he said. the two of you were escorted back to a table in the corner, away from windows and therefore away from prying eyes.
like a gentleman, he pulled your chair out and helped you scooch up to the table.
"i can't remember if i told you this, but you look lovely," he said with a smile.
"thanks," you replied. "you look handsome." and you meant it. if you weren't in love with his best friend, in another life, you could see yourself falling for his blue eyes. and maybe you still could. mat was going on a date with your friend tomorrow so it was better that you just get over him already and--
"so how long have you been in love with mat?"
you choked on your own spit, and for a minute, tito looked apologetic. for his timing, you had to guess, not the question itself.
surely you heard him wrong.
"what?" you asked when you finally got your bearings.
"how long have you loved him?"
nope. you heard him correctly.
"i--"
he leaned forward, arms braced on the table. "you don't have to lie to me, i know. i've known for awhile."
"i--"
but the server came up and asked for drink orders. tito ordered a bottle of red for the table after asking for your thoughts.
you were still reeling from his question, safe to say you didn't have any thoughts.
"sorry," tito started. "i didn't mean to make you feel cornered, i just wanted to be honest."
"it doesn't look like you're the only who needs to be honest, it's me." you fiddled with the ends of your dress.
"why'd you do it? why'd you help set mat up with your friend?"
you shrugged. "i just wanted to see him happy. and i wanted alexa to find a good guy, i knew mat was one. they make sense together."
"even if it makes you unhappy."
"even if it makes me unhappy."
tito nodded, and looked at you like he could see something you couldn't. "let's forget about him for now and just enjoy dinner, eh?"
you gave him your best smile and nodded.
the rest of the night flew by. soon enough, tito was walking you up to your apartment and kissing your cheek before he left. you wished you felt butterflies, or something, but there was no special sensation. nothing to make you weak in the knees.
it was like a kiss from an old friend.
your phone buzzed with a text from alexa.
alexa: how'd your date go?
you typed out a quick response.
it was good. just got home.
you locked your phone and placed it on your nightstand before collapsing into bed. but your phone buzzed again. you thought about ignoring it, but if it was alexa, you didn't want her to think you were upset at her.
mat barzal: did you have fun?
you blinked before typing back.
yeah. tito's great.
not a second later, you got another text.
mat barzal: good. have a good night.
you fell back against your pillows and cursed at the ceiling.
step 6: let them fall in love
you woke up the next morning and stayed in bed until your bladder was about to burst. after the date with tito and the reminder that mat was going out with alexa tonight, it was all enough to put you back in bed as soon as you peed.
and you stayed there, flicking through netflix shows and wallowing in self pity. you usually weren't this pathetic, but the idea of alexa and mat getting cozy on their date that night was enough to warrant your sadness.
you'd pull yourself together by monday when you'd have to go back to work and see how happy she made him.
that's what you kept telling yourself, that at the very least, two of your friends would be happy.
by 7pm, you were sitting on the couch, waiting for takeout to arrive.
when a knock on the door signified your food arrived, you got up with your blanket burrito and walked to the door. you didn't even bother checking before yanking the door open and looking down at your doormat.
only to see a pair of shoes.
"what the hell," you mumbled. "i thought i said leave at the door...' your voice trailed off as your eyes lifted to meet a pair of hazel.
mat barzal.
he had your food in one hand while the other was in his pocket.
"mat?" you whispered. suddenly, you were throwing the blankets off your shoulders and behind you into your apartment where they'd be out of sight.
though it was then you realized you were in sweats and you hadn't done anything with your hair all day so you were probably better off with the blanket burrito instead.
"hi," he breathed. "here's your food." he handed it over, nodding when you murmured your thanks, and shoved his other hand through his hair.
you glanced at the time on the clock on your wall to make sure you weren't hallucinating. "why're you here, mat? shouldn't you be with alexa?"
"that's what i wanted to talk to you about, actually."
"oh no," you started panicking, your eyes widened. "did she not show up?" you turned back into your apartment and went to your phone, searching for texts from alexa to explain her absence. "i swear i thought she'd show. she told me she would and she's usually a woman of her word."
you turned around when your front door shut with mat standing in the middle of your living room, looking out of place and right at home somehow.
your phone was vacant of any text messages from alexa.
"no, she showed. i left early."
that caught your attention.
you set your food on the coffee table and turned around to face him.
"why did you leave early? was she rude? are you sick?"
mat shook his head. "no, i'm fine, she was fine. that's not why i'm here. i mean it is but that's--that's--i want, no i need to tell you something."
"tell me what?"
he rolled his eyes. "i'm getting to that." he started pacing your very small living room. you wondered if he knew how much space he took up in your apartment. you wondered if he cared how messy your place was. "i'm just gonna come right out and say it, and don't interrupt me this time." you nodded.
mat ran both hands through his hair for the twentieth time since he showed up. "when i said all those things last night, i wasn't talking about alexa. i was talking about you."
what.
but he continued.
"i'm not gonna pretend i've loved you this whole time, but i fell in love with you along the way. the way you kept analyzing every fucking pumpkin for the perfect one, or how you bring red wine to dinner unprompted because you can't not contribute to something, or the way you trusted me enough to take you on the ice and show you something i love, or how you laugh like no one has ever said something mean to you in your life even when i know that jackass tyler harasses you on the daily. you're kind to literally every person i've ever seen you interact with.
"but i hate the way you shrink yourself like you're afraid to take up space. i hate the way you act like alexa's better than you, like i couldn't fall in love with you when you're literally the most generous, kindest, passionate, and beautiful person i've ever met in my life. because i do love you. every fiber of my being loves you."
you blinked once. twice. and breathed.
"what?" you whispered as tears gathered in the corners of your eyes.
"i know you just went out with tito last night, and if you like him, if you love him, i get it. he's a great guy and you'd be great together. but i'm asking you to give me a chance, give us a chance. i've had fun with you the last few weeks and i cannot bear the thought of not calling you mine any longer." his chest was heaving as the words rushed out of his mouth.
you rounded the coffee table to get to him. as soon as you were in arms' reach, mat was pulling you to him. with your hips pressed together, your lips just a breath away, you spoke softly.
"please tell me this isn't a dream."
a small laugh escaped his lips and echoed over your own. "it's not a dream, baby. this is real. i love you so fucking much."
"i love you too, mat."
any words you had left to say were lost as he brought your mouths together.
you weren't sure how much time had passed before you separated from him with your hands pressed on his chest. mat tried to follow your lips, but you kept a firm hand on his sternum so you could speak.
"what about alexa?"
mat pulled back. "what about her?"
"you were on a date with her and just left her there?"
"i more than covered the tab if that's what you're afraid of--"
"what if she hates me?"
he laughed. like threw his head back and laughed before kissing you again. "baby, we were there for fifteen minutes and all i could talk about was you. she told me to come here and tell you the truth."
you smiled. "thank god for alexa."
"thank god for alexa."
mat led the two of you over to the couch where you immediately curled into him. he kissed the top of your head, seemingly addicted to having his lips on your body at all times. "you're fired, you know."
you would've pulled away had mat's grip allowed it. "what? fired from what?"
"the wing woman business. you're absolutely horrible at it."
"yeah, well i think it worked out pretty well."
he pressed his lips into your hair and mumbled. "yeah, i think so too."
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bluecollarmcandtf · 3 months
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My Found Family
I never grew up with the luxury of family. As an orphan, my childhood was lacking to say the least, and it left me jealous of any kid with caring fathers and siblings. That's why I had to find my family. Nobody's perfect, but with a little reconditioning, I've trained them to be exactly what I was looking for.
This guy is now my father...
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"Breakfast is ready, boys!" I call, using my lower register like I'm supposed to, "Whoops! I mean bacon-fest!"
Guttural laughter comes from my stomach even though I don't find my joke that funny. Bad jokes like this have sort of become my personality lately. In fact, my whole life has transformed over the last couple days. A week ago, I would've never imagined myself strolling around my house in nothing but underwear and a robe! My standards for style seem to have vanished along with pretty much every other part of my old way of being.
It happened three days ago at a grocery store, when I ran into this guy in the produce section. He caught me examining avocados for ripeness and walked right up, beginning to talk like we'd known each other for years.
It was all a bit bizarre, but I found myself unable to turn away. He was explaining my life to myself. Well, not my life, but the one he wanted me to live, the one I was meant to live, and I hung on his every word. He was maybe six years younger than myself, but I was to be his new daddy. It was a role I was proud to fill.
"Here you are, son," I grin widely, unable to contain the feelings of pride I have as he walks into the room.
"Thanks, old man," he answers and grabs the plate gratefully.
For a moment, I stand there and stare. My heart beats for my boy as he tears apart the food I made for him. My paternal instincts have been working overtime lately. I can't help but love that boy with every fatherly fiber of my being.
It doesn't matter that I never wanted kids before. Previously, I'd wanted to remain a bachelor forever, but I have them now, and it couldn't feel more perfect.
With a content grin, I turn back to the sizzling bacon and think about my day. Things I used to hate were now what I looked forward to; mowing the lawn, washing the car, cleaning the gutters. I have a full day of work ahead of me to keep this house in tip top shape. Of course, I'll do it all with an ice cold beer in my hand. I never had a taste for the stuff, but my boy thinks I should grow a bit more of a gut.
I know what I say goes around here, but I could never say no to my favorite son...
I obviously have dad wrapped around my finger, but he's not the only member of this family. This next dude is my new big bro...
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"Fuck yeah," I grunt and sniff up the ripe stench under my arm, "Smells like a real fuckin' man!"
I toss the barbell down, finishing a new personal record on the bench press and I couldn't feel more pumped. My tank top and sweat pants are drenched with sweat, but I love bein' a nasty gym rat: at least, I do now.
A week ago I was waiting tables at this fancy restaurant, when one of the customers got to talking with me. He was sitting alone and looked kinda sad, so I tried to be friendly and I'm sure glad I did! I got a whole new family out of it. He made me quit my job and move into this sweet place. Now I'm his big brother!
Of course, like all big bro's, I'm supposed to work out in the garage all day. I was never one for weights, but I couldn't imagine my life without them anymore. I like to push my limits and get all hot and sweaty. Then I march around the house flexing and farting all over the place. It's not the most refined thing in the world, but my bro explained to me how much I don't care about hygiene and all that crap.
"Wassup, little man," I call as he saunters in.
"Nothing much," he answers, staring at my arms while I show off my biceps.
"Alright, get out of my space. I'm tryin' to work out," I snarl, acting as tough as possible, "Do I need to wrestle you again to prove my point?"
I definitely didn't used to be like this. I used to be the most polite and approachable guy in the world, always chatting random people up, but that guy's gone. My bro got rid of him and his old family. This new family is the only one I'm interested in now, even if I'm not supposed to show it. I'm supposed to be muscular, rude, and gross. It's who I am now.
"Alright, I'll leave you to it," he replies, "You can wrestle me though."
"I will," I frown, flexing even harder, "And this time, I'll win!"
Whenever we wrestle, I always end up with the urge to let him win. It sucks because I could easily beat him, and I should put him in his place, but for some reason, I just know I have to let him win. He just deserves it I guess.
I give him an intense glare and then return to my weights. These arms aren't going to pump themselves...
My big bro always makes my legs quiver, but I love seeing how cocky he can get. Of course, he'll never out wrestle me no matter how big he gets. I programmed him to let me win. Just like I programmed the breadwinner of the bunch...
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A short groan rumbles from my lips. For some reason, everything has been disappointing me lately: my sons, my husband, my job has all been leaving me grumpy and frustrated. Even the channels on the TV aggravate the living hell out of me. I have to fight the urge to chuck the remote across the room.
"How was your day, honey," my husband asks, walking into the room and handing me a beer.
"Great," I moan without any emotion.
Everything's been changing so fast lately, and I couldn't be more over it. I was married to my work, busting ass for years to get promotion after promotion, and I had a job I loved that paid extremely well. I couldn't be more happy, even if I was the only unmarried guy in the office. I didn't mind. I loved my bowling league and my solo trips to Vegas too much to settle down.
Then I met him, my son. Well, he wasn't my son at the time, but after talking, I quickly realized who he was and who I was to him. I'm the head of the household, the disciplinarian, the breadwinner. At least, that's who I've become.
"What's for dinner?" I grunt, peeling my eyes away from the TV.
Looking at my husband, odd feelings bubble up. I used to know him as my neighbor, a nice enough guy, but now I'm married to him. It all happened so fast. He's changed too recently, I think. The guy I knew a week ago would've never walked around all day in a robe and underwear.
His hand reaches out and holds my own, "Steak and potatoes if that's alright with you."
I grunt in agreement, turning back to the TV. My husband's presence stirs my cock to life, straining my member against my work slacks.
This is another new development.
Until now, I'd never had a gay bone in my body. In some ways, I still don't, but my son explained how I should feel about my husband. I should love him, I should be turned on by him, and I should get it on with him. He's right, I suppose.
"Hey, I could use a blow job before you get cooking," I gesture to the thick tent in my pants.
My husband pauses for a moment like he's unsure of what to do, but then it comes to him, "Of course, babe, but we need to be quiet. Both of our boys are home right now."
"Don't worry about it. If they walk in without knocking they'll get the belt," I snort as my husband gets on his knees in front of me.
"You shouldn't be so hard on-" before he can finish, I've shoved his face into my crotch.
Somehow, I know I can be rough with him, just like I can be rough with our sons. I'm the man of the house after all. Within seconds I'm grunting in pleasure while staring at the evening news broadcast. For some reason, I always find myself watching it and complaining about current events. It's just who I am now..
I grin, sneaking a peak at my two dad's going at it in the living room like the good little couple they are. My new family couldn't be more perfect, but no family is complete without the dog...
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"Ruff!" I bark, gleefully scampering over to the bowl of food that was just placed on the floor.
Without hesitating, I shove my face into the bowl, sending the little pellets flying everywhere. They taste like cardboard, but for some reason, I can't get enough of them! I've done nothing but drool and whine for the last hour while the real humans eat their dinner at the table.
"That's a good boy," a voice coos, and I feel fingers running through the hair on my head.
I can barely acknowledge being petted. I know I'm supposed to act like a hungry animal right now, so that's what I do.
I would've never thought I'd find myself as a house pet, but a couple days ago, this guy just walked up to me and talked me into it. It'd just been a normal day for me, working at the car garage when he became my master. I knew right there and then that I had to drop to my hands and knees and follow him home with my tongue out.
My new life has been great ever since. My masters play ball with me outside, they hose me down when I get muddy, and they snuggle with me on the couch at night. I barely even miss my old work and fiance!
"Alright, boy," one of my master's commands, "That's enough. Get in here!"
It's the mean one. The one who used to own this house, but is now just a working dad. He's always the one who hits me with a newspaper when I drink from the toilet. I don't know why, but I just feel compelled to do it!
Licking the bowl clean, I abandon it and crawl into the living room. There, the entire family is gathered around the television.
I stop by the smelly one and sneak in a few licks. I love licking him because he's always salty with sweat and smells funny. After licking his feet for too long, he kicks me away, "Leave me alone, mutt!"
"Oh don't talk to him that way," the nice one adds.
I climb on the couch and curl up beside him. His belly is always the perfect cushion for my head to rest on, and he always lets me lick his beer bottle when he's done. Within a couple minutes, I'm drifting off as his hands absently play with my hair...
...sitting with my family at night is always my favorite part. Watching TV with my two dads, brother, and dog heals the child in me that had always yearned for this. Sure, it might be easier to just go to therapy, but this is sure as hell a lot more fun!
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reticulating-splines · 5 months
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WIP - West 70th
1880s-1910s row of Upper West Side townhomes.
Been working on this row of late 19th c. brownstones on and off for the past year now, so needless to say when I heard about For Rent I was hype.
Download Here
This initially started because I was homesick for NYC during the pandemic. Specifically for the area of the upper west side my dorm was in while I was a student. I mainly blame this experience for my obsession with historical architecture - walking along central park west past the Dakota on the way to the subway, smoking on the stoops of the brownstones late at night, going to classes in the wedding cake that is the Ansonia - it was just everywhere, and so, so beautiful to look at.
Except a lot of it is faded glory - buildings subdivided, details chipped or covered in the thickest coats of grime or paint. So I wanted to replicate some of the old New York from around the turn of the century. The one I read about in the Luxe series and saw in the Samantha movie lol.
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The basement or garden level of each four-story brownstone will be dedicated to the original purpose as the main workplace of the service staff. Unfortunately no room for the actual garden, so laundry lines and planters are on the roof. There are bedrooms and bathrooms for a cook and a housekeeper/butler, along with the staff dining and the kitchen. The butler's pantry is directly upstairs from the kitchen, and the top floor is almost exclusively made up of staff bedrooms and washrooms.
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I usually do the service areas first because they're the most interesting, and there was nothing more interesting than a full edwardian brownstone kitchen. Lots of exposed piping, beadboard, subway tile, and shelves of clutter. Has a separate scullery, pantry, and stairs down to a basement storeroom to keep your best champs-le-sims nectar in. There's also a servant's bellboard in the kitchen and the staff dining room. It along with the "boiler" system are made with tool and CC-free.
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The main entrance and parlor are doing their best to continue the gothic revival theme of the exterior. The library and dining room follow in the enfilade starting in the parlor. Since this first house is a corner lot, it has a bit more width and space than a true brownstone. The only actual brownstone I've been inside of is Lady Mendl's, so ofc I had to have an extensive tea setup. Def took a lot of inspo from these two pics alone for these rooms.
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The main stairwell and picture gallery lead to three large bedrooms on the second floor, and then up to the children's room and nanny's bedroom on the third floor. I really like skylights. I learned the importance of decent lightwells in staving off depression one semester when my window looked out onto a brick wall
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The master bedroom and the children's room above it both have their own private sitting rooms and bathrooms. All rooms have either fireplaces or cast iron radiators.
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There's no way this is going to be finished by the time For Rent comes out, so im just going to release it in whatever state it's in when it does come out. The exteriors and interior room layout for all the townhomes will (hopefully) most likely be set by then anyway.
Now available for download!
Also the anniversary of Chez Cromwell is coming up! Ive been gone for the better part of the year due to starting a new job, but I havent been idle. C.Cromwell has been updated for infants and ceilings, which led to me redoing the exterior and almost every room, so a rerelease is coming v soon! Sneak peek below. Happy Thanksgiving!
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churipu · 2 months
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★ ─── KILLSWITCH LULLABY . . . ( 04 )
warnings. cursing, toji vs parenting, in a world where toji actually takes care of baby gumi, gumi is at least 8 months old, non! sorcerer au, infant doctor! reader, toji uses the zenin clan name, but baby gumi is a fushiguro (takes after his mother), reader wears a light pink colored lip balm.
note. this is also a little rushed, and it is not proofread.
-> series masterlist.
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toji's always been told that he was a fast learner in the past — and he never has really accustomed himself as one. until he's managed to perfect his first latte art after just a few days of training, considering he's a beginner revolving coffee, creamer, latte art; it's amazing.
"you're a fast one, aren't you? where've you been all this time?" (cousin) crossed his arms, leaning his hip onto the counter behind toji.
"this is easy," toji mutters out, the coffee cup sitting tight on the palm of his hand — he looks at the half-full cafe, megumi squirming around in his slightly oversized blue colored onesie, "stop movin' around, megumi."
"think he should be crawling around at that age," toji hears your cousin chimes in, eyeing megumi who has been squirming uncomfortably non-stop for at least the last ten minutes, "has he ever crawled before?"
now that he thinks about it — toji has never really seen megumi crawl, the most is sit up right. but other than that, toji has been megumi's main transport, carrying the infant everywhere they go, "not really, i've been carrying him everywhere i go."
"try to let him crawl, 'ts a good feeling to see your baby crawl for the first time, y'know?"
toji nods his head, he stares down at megumi who's now stopped squirming — just staring from one person to another with his doe eyes. coming from a thirty-two year old man with two kids, toji knew (cousin) has much more experience than he does, and in all honesty; he was in no position to refuse any kind of help he could get with his baby.
the door to the cafe opens, letting a soft jingle from the bell hanging right by it echo. your cousin detached his hip from the counter and walked towards where the register was, "huh, fancy seeing you here early in the day, y/n. the usual?"
toji eyed you, his thick digits wrapping around megumi's little foot, pressing on it awkwardly.
"break time. figure i might drop by y'know? i haven't been here for a few days," you answered, eyeing the menu, "and no, not the usual. i'm actually craving for some hot chocolate right now."
"small? medium? large?" (cousin) questions, "and doesn't your break end in like . . . half an hour."
"large," taking out your wallet — you slip a bill in between your fingers, "can you put chocolate powder on top of it? thanks," and then the bill went into (cousin)'s hold.
"right, right. oh, and how long did it take for you to learn latte art again?" he asks, handing you a few silver coinages, "almost a month? three weeks?"
rolling your eyes, you spoke, "are you going to make fun of me again? i thought we were past this thing, and yes — three weeks."
(cousin) chuckled softly, ripping the bill that had just printed out, "mr. fushiguro there," he points at toji, "just perfected his first latte art, in just a few days, you've got competition. hell, y/n — why couldn't you have met him earlier, huh?"
"first of all, i'm a doctor, considering how i even managed to learn how to perfect a latte art is good enough, right?" toji raised his shoulders up a bit, a slight smirk appearing on his lips at your defensive statement, "good job though, a few days is something to be proud of."
"so . . . keep toji and little megs company while i get your drink ready," your cousin cheekily winked, backing away as he handed you your bill.
moving aside, you approached the bar table and sat on the stool, "seems like you're having fun with this job, how's (cousin) treating you, hm?"
toji looks back at your cousin briefly before looking back at you, "having fun . . ?" having fun isn't really the term to describe toji's state today — he was erratic at the fact that he's managed to keep a job for almost a week with his son strapped to his chest for his whole shift, "i guess i am in a way. and he's helpful. i guess?"
the uncertainty in his voice made you laugh, "you guess . . ? i mean — he's been hell to me when i asked him to teach me some basic latte art, 'ts like asking your father to teach you how to drive, you know?" toji raised a brow in confusion.
"i leave you for like one minute and you're shit-talking me y/n? i thought we were buddies," (cousin) chimed in, ripping a piece of paper towel from by toji's side before turning his back to you again.
"see what i mean?" toji nods his head mutely.
"hi baby gumi," you waved your fingers at the infant, and him responding by letting out a strained giggle, his little body vibrating in euphoria, "aren't you a happy one today? all dressed in a nice onesie too."
as if megumi understood what you were saying, his body hopped happily. babbling incoherently.
not even five minutes later, your cousin popped by toji's side with a large paper cup of hot chocolate, "hot chocolate with powdered chocolate on top."
"thanks."
"so," (cousin) pointed his index finger accusingly at you and toji, "the both of you were talking about me, weren't you?"
"oh, come on — it's nothing serious. just the fact you contrast your personality between toji and i," toji faced your cousin for a few seconds.
"shut up, you grew out of my personality. thank me or something," you took an annoyed sip from the cup, leaving an oily pink stain copy of your lips on the paper material of the cup, "look at you, being able to make a latte art because i taught you."
"right, whatever floats your boat," you replied to him, "break ends in twenty minutes, gotta go."
toji nodded his head your way in acknowledgement, and your cousin shot back a smile before his brows furrowed, "wait! — so, you'll be back here after closing hours?"
you nodded in response, "probably, why?"
"right, do me a favor. i promised him here that i'd bring him home, but i might not be able to make it, so . . . can i trust him with you?" toji's head snapped to the side and he shook his head slowly, parting his lips to deny the claim as it was a blatant lie, but your cousin managed to beat him to it, "you could? thanks y/n, you're the best. i want my best barista here tomorrow at work safe and sound, understood?"
"no, i—" toji speaks out.
yet again, he was cut off. this time by you, "no worries, will do. gotta go guys, have a good day at work!" you exclaim, taking a swift look to your wrist watch.
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toji wiped the last bit of the counter — doing the same procedure he always does every single night before, megumi fast asleep in his carrier. his small head leaning back onto toji's chest, snoring softly in his slumber.
the clock strikes midnight and there were no signs of you, and toji didn't know if he should be relieved or not. but he sighs out, swiping his hair back before walking towards the staff room to prepare himself on his journey home.
"toji?"
upon hearing your voice, he turns his body back, and there you were standing behind the bar, in front of the doorway with sweat dribbling down the side of your head, "sorry 'm late, i had to grab something from a friend's house."
your breaths were heavy and ragged, as if you had been running a mile. the hollows of your knees where trembling slightly, "you know your cousin was lying about this whole thing, right?"
you raised a brow, "no, but honestly? i'm not surprised that he lied about this — do you uh . . . feel comfortable with me driving you home or would you prefer something else?" you pop an alternative for him, trying to regain your normal breath composure.
seeing your state, he couldn't even pick the latter choice, it's a one time thing. he thought to himself, "will it be trouble? it's midnight," at one point, he felt bad if he had to decline your offer — but at the same time, he felt bad for accepting because he was sure being an infant doctor isn't the easiest occupation in the world.
"no, no. no trouble at all, i'd be happy to bring you and baby gumi home," you tell him, shaking your hand, "and (cousin) did say he wants his best barista to be here tomorrow safe and sound, it's midnight and it isn't exactly the safest at this hour, you know?"
toji nodded, "how can i repay you?"
your face scrunches, "no need to repay me, i want to do this. let's go," toji grabbed his bag and carried it with him, following after your steps in uncomfortable silence.
"so, you know how babies are supposed to have their own seat because it'd be a risk to have them on your hold during a drive," you explained clicking your car keys, skipping towards the back seat of your car, "i got a baby seat from a friend of mine for baby gumi — since her baby is no longer a baby and all, so she gave her baby seat to me."
toji halt his steps, standing a few steps away from your car as you spoke, his arms were by his side, "what?"
receiving no answers verbally — toji awaits for you to do anything to answer his short question. the male had fatigue chasing after his body as seconds pass by, his mind was swirling with a lot of thoughts; all at the same time. and the fact (if he had heard you right) that you told him the reason you were late to appear was because you had gone out your way to grab a baby seat for his son.
pulling the door handle, you reveal a baby seat calmly sitting on the jock waiting to be occupied. with a proud smile gracing your face, you nodded in an attempt to lighten up the dark night, "isn't it cool?"
the male blinked his eyes back from asking you another question — but at this point, he just wanted to go back home, take a quick shower, and sleep the exhaustion away.
and so he walked over to where you stood. still a little boggled to why you'd gone out your way to do all of this for his son, dropping his bag to the ground. toji works his hand around megumi carefully, trying to minimize his movements so that he wouldn't be woken up. unhinging the carrier straps, the male brought megumi's limp body on his arm.
stepping out of the way for him, toji gently laid megumi's body on the car seat. struggling to clasp the safety clipper on top of his small body, fiddling with it for a bit.
"need help with it, toji?"
as much as he hated to admit it. yes, he did. no words escaped his throat, but he stepped back as a signal for help. so you stepped forward and squat down a bit, gently moving your fingers around the clippers, clipping them together with ease — you stood up and shut the door softly.
"all done, let's go get you both home!"
toji waited for you to enter the driver's seat before goin inside the passenger's seat, taking in a quick look at the interior of your car. which was just like you — elegant and simple. no trash presented around, not even an empty water bottle to be seen in sight.
the male blindly reaches out for the safety belt by his head, pulling it across his body before inserting it to the bar. silently waiting for the car to move.
turning the engine on — you hooked your own safety belt into the bar, "okay, you ready? just a heads up, i absolutely don't know the direction to your house, so do tell me where to go, yeah?"
toji mutely nods before answering, "just go straight for at least the next three traffic lights."
and so you clutched onto your steering wheel, foot gently pressuring on the gas pedal; as the car began moving, finger expertly pressing on the in-car screen, your e/c eyes darting from the fairly empty road to the screen every now and then — toji eyed your fingers as his elbow was prepped up on the door, cheek leant on his fist.
soon enough, a soft tune escaped the speakers. the soft guitar strums humming into his ears, "does this work? feel free to change it into something else if you want to."
toji didn't answer you, but his head slightly bobbed. the least he could do was to give any form of answer to you, "so, met any hard to deal customers today?"
the male was at least the slightest bit delighted at your attempt to ease the awkward aura engulfing you both, "yeah, some of 'em are real hard to deal with."
you chuckle, "tell me about it."
toji's eyes averted from the road to your figure for a bit, "about them? what am i supposed to say?"
his answer was a bit different from what you expected, but you gave him a small smile, "mhm, like — tell me about them, what did they do and all. i like a good story time, you know?"
toji puckered his lips out slightly, he wasn't really used to tell stories to just anyone. megumi, an exception. so he didn't even know where to begin his "storytelling", the silence was deafening. but you didn't rush him, "they're just bitches, i got no story for it."
you let out a string of laughter, "the end? best story ever," he shrugs in response — it was fairly obvious that he never dilly dallies, "don't worry, i met an interesting client today too."
"oh."
now that reaction is a bit expected to say the least, "ask me about it," you bluntly told him, eyes focused on the road ahead.
" . . . go for it," toji mutters, clueless to why you were pushing him to ask about your day.
"this big sister came in, probably not older than fifteen — or sixteen maybe? she was with her younger brother, who was really sick with a high fever. and it has been going for apparently a week, so that was very concerning," you began slowly, "and her parents were too busy with work, and they didn't even show up until three hours later. she was crying and all. ringing her parents, it was just . . . sad. you know what i mean?"
toji hums out shortly.
"they didn't even bother looking at the little guy, stopped by for at least fifteen minutes. talked to me, and left without the sister," you continued, "well, he ends up staying in the intensive care — she stays too because she had to look after him, and the parents are just gone like that."
as the third traffic light was in sight, toji found himself finally breaking his silence, "uh . . . you can just turn right at the third light, and go straight."
you followed his commands well, "you don't talk a lot, do you?"
"isn't it obvious?" he replies slowly.
"it is, i just wanted to talk to you — tell me if i'm being too chatty, okay?" you warned him, "where do we go next?"
"another right at the very corner, my apartment's the first building in sight," toji informed you, shifting on his seat to sit straight up, taking a deep breath.
it took you less than five minutes to reach his apartment, braking your car at his command. toji wasted no time unbuckling his belt to leave your car. stepping to the back door, he opens it — fiddling with the clips of the baby seat megumi is currently residing on. this time, he fortunately didn't need your help as he managed to unhinge the clippers from each other.
carrying the sleeping infant into his arms, toji knocked on the window of the passenger's seat.
you chuckled, rolling the window down meeting his eyes, "good night, toji."
"thanks for the ride."
"you're welcome toji, have a good rest. see you tomorrow."
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blingblong55 · 5 months
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Now that we don't talk- Simon 'Ghost' Riley
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A/N: funny enough...these two drivers are no longer with the girls in these pictures. also, this is not me telling you how reader looks like
--- F!Reader, angst, established!relationship, F1 au, F1 driver!Simon, cheating ---
A/N: watched the Las Vagas shit show of a race and then got inspired....so here's this shit mess of a fic
He was the guy every girl wanted, from the teens to the older women, yet he held your hand on the red carpet at that award show. He kissed you in yachts and danced with you in galas and ballrooms. Paraded your name when he won races. You were everywhere, from tea pages, to fan-made edits and now you're here, stuck in a hotel room, waiting for him. For the past seven months, he's kept you hidden, like you were some kind of repunzel. Never to be let out of the tower unless it was by him. He had what every driver and fan wanted in their lives, fame, wealth, social status, a gorgeous and supportive girlfriend and the way he was the best at his job. 
They always say to look for the smallest of clues, that's why, all the tabloids talked about how he 'had it all'. Now, he took out the girlfriend part and added Playboy to the list. 
Three months before you and him announced your split, he sat down with you. Told you all the truths he kept from you. Your tears well up in that pretty face of yours. "I started to see other women, that was nine months ago, in Spain, that's why I told you to stay at the hotel," his eyes too teared up. It took a lot to not slap him, scream and yell at him for being such a man slut, but you needed to hear it, needed to know the truth before the internet did. He took a deep breath, "I...there's been at least ten different women, I've slept with more but...only those ten did I take to race weekends instead of you." His eyes, full of regret look at you. "When did you stop loving me?" Your question caught him off guard. "I...I think it was a year ago but I thought it was me being anxious over that whole contract thing and having to move and...I'm sorry, I shouldn't make excuses for my actions," he looks down. 
You nod, not daring to look at him anymore. "I'm sorry, R/N," his voice small. "No, I'm sorry," you respond and he looks at you confused. "What do you mean by that?" He questions you. "I'm sorry for falling in love, for being a fool and seeing myself with you for the rest of my life. I'm sorry for trusting you were sleeping alone when I wasn't there...I'm sorry I wasn't enough to make you stay...or to be patient enough and end it like a real man would," you play with your phone's edge. You look at him, finally. "Why did you keep me hidden?" He shakes his head at that question. "The times you were there, the other women were there too," he confesses and your heart stops. "...oh," your voice is small, so soft and filled with so much woe. 
"I...I guess I should go," You stand up. "I'm sorry I wasn't what you deserved, I hope you find a man who treats you like you are the universe to him, I hope he kisses you in public and I wish you happiness, I'm sorry." He stands up too and walks you to the door. 
A month later, you and him confirmed the rumour. "Formula 1 driver Simon Riley and long-time girlfriend [R/N], have announced their split on a joint social media statement." The article read. Your phone is on silent as you reread the message you put out to the world. "To the fans, it is time we confirm that we are no longer together. We have grown apart and it's time we grow up and move on to new parts of our lives. We will always love each other, together or not but our relationship has run its course. All our gratitude for the six years of acceptance, Simon and [R/N]." Your eyes glistened with sorrow as you shook your head. 
For days, you stayed indoors. Cried, looked through memories, private ones the world never saw. What did he do? He was photographed in clubs, hand on a woman's waist, drunk kisses, alcohol, tight dresses and that new title, "F1's playboy." He kept winning, getting more fame and having his name all over the world. Meanwhile, you walk the streets alone. You were there for when he was accepted in F3 and when he moved to F2, even were the shoulder he leaned on all the years he waited to become an F1 driver.  
His bed was never the same, neither was his flat. It was no longer cosy, no longer comforting after a bad or long day. His bed missed the warmth of it. His lips missed the consistent pecks after he gave you a pouty lip when you denied staying up late on race day. What did he miss the most? You, all of you and that was soon to be shown. That Playboy facade was for show, inside, all he wanted was to stop being seen with so many women. He wanted one and quickly, his team noticed. He stopped showing up at parties, and clubs and stopped talking to all the women who weren't there for official business or if they weren't a fan who asked for an autograph or picture. 
That mask only stayed on for eight months, thirteen days and four hours. He stopped showing off his wealth, dressed in only team attire, comfy clothes, or in suits and ties. His bed was empty most nights, his right cheek was no longer stained with the red lipstick you left at every little accomplishment he made. He fixed his image and unfollowed any woman who wasn't important in his career, except one, you. 
And as he did this, all you saw were the old tabloids. Him all over women. You dated off the light the media gave you, you kept your nights away from sight, fixed and resolved all your problems and then, by some cruel mistake, you saw him. Jogging by your place. For some twisted way, your heartbeat fastened. It brought you back to when you'd time him before the season started. That's where the kiss on the right cheek came from. A towel-dried that side of his face, just so you could kiss it. This happened all through your relationship. And, on some Wednesday, a friend invited you to attend the last race of the season. 
You attended, not just because of the invite but because it was a promise. "When I win most if not all races I want you to go, be waiting for me, look up to the podium because my love, that entire season will be yours," he, one night whispered to you. And there you were, in that garage, wearing a hat, his number on it as you watched the qualification. The cameras awaited to capture you and him kissing, but none of that happened, not even a glance from you to him. 
"Riley takes pole, all eyes on him to see if he breaks yet another record," the commentator said. And as he sat there, he thought of you. The good luck kiss, the pat on his helmet before any race. And holding hands when walking to the paddock. It was a ritual, something he held holy to him. If only he could prove he is the man you now deserve if he could get out of his car, run to you and confess a speech he memorised. The one that said all the truth, the one in which he tells you that just in your first year being together, he had a ring picked out, the same one he kept in every coat for when the time was right. And there was that mistake, one fatal one that cost him his Mrs. Riley. Every single second was the right time, every stare, every kiss, every laugh, the whispers, the running from the cameras, it was always you, it was always the right time when with you. 
Simon Riley, world champion, world record breaker, the man every driver wants to be this year, now claiming every single race of that season as he walked to that podium. And, in a crowd of friends, teammates, fans and cameras, he looked for you. National anthems played and as he was about to lose hope, he saw you there, the spot he told you to stand in for when the day came. You look up, and the cameras pan to you and him. That stare, oh that stare that spoke the romance no other book or poet could explain. His smile widened, gaze softened when he noticed you cried. Proud of the man who made his dreams come true. 
Maybe you weren't there for all the days he drove but that engagement ring, that symbolised you, was there for all of them. You give him a nod and his smile widens.
"I'll do it, I swear one day, I'll be added to the list of legends who came before me and when I do, I need you there, my love," he kissed you. "And when I do, you nod at me, that's how I'll know you are proud of me," he whispered. 
As the night came to an end, the photos, flashes, and signatures, all rushed to come and find you. He needed his right cheek kissed and maybe this time it wouldn't be his lips but to just feel you next to him, that fed him enough. He spotted you and as he ran to you, he stopped in his tracks. 
One month, two days and three hours. That is how late he was to you. His gaze was now filled with tears as he saw you hold another hand. A woman, looking for nothing but sex approached him and he declined. "Why not?" She questioned him. "I have a fiancé," he said coldly and moved away from her. He looked down, at a paper, written by his poetic hand, a small box, made by him with the help of some carpenter, all gripped as he swore he would not give up. Not ever, especially when he knows that in this life, he was meant for one woman. Maybe he did fuck up, maybe he will be forever alone but to know that for one second he held you in his arms, that was enough. 
He nodded and sighed, "Is it over now?" he thought. "No," your heart would've responded for you. As he turns and walks away, you look back and you notice that box. Your heart...oh that tingle that makes you feel alive. Maybe it was all in his head, maybe he wasn't late...maybe. "Simon!" you called out, the crowd too loud for him to hear you. Your friend lets go of your hand. "Simon!" you move through the crowds. "Simon, stop!" You push and run. Adrenaline, maybe not like the one he has after every race but it's still something. He walks away, getting into a car and looking at that piece of paper. 
No one heard of him for months. No one heard of you for months. 
My love, my R/N, I made a mistake. Not cheating but one that is worse, pretending I didn't call you my wife to everyone else. A vow I made in my head, a wedding night I planned one night as we made love. Truth is, no, I didn't cheat. No, I didn't sleep with anyone when I was with you. What happened was, I noticed it. I noticed how you paused your life for mine, how you took care of me, how you made sure I ate healthy, slept enough, and got used to different time zones, all whilst giving your life no attention. I was 17 when we first met, you and I, an accidental 'Hi' one that gave me the privilege of falling in love with the woman who knows me better than anyone else. I've known you for a decade now, loved you for nine of those years, and made you my girlfriend for five of them. I wore that title with pride. By the way, didn't you ever question why everyone called you my wife or Mrs. Riley? Funny how you didn't even ask me about it. I admit, I was only at those clubs looking for you, I didn't drink but pretended to, I kissed their cheeks, made it look like I kissed their lips. In my head, I was married. I am married. Called you my little wife when you patted my helmet to the mechanics, they laughed. I did sleep with other women, I confess to that but I didn't kiss them, didn't care for their pleasure, not when I promised it was your pleasure...just yours that mattered to me. Did you keep my locket? I hope you did, if not...it's fine, we'll find a new one and start fresh. I know you are wondering, why I can't let you talk as I give this speech and I know you are crying, your lips quiver as I confess. It's a reason why I haven't looked up from this piece of paper. I can't see you cry, you know that. I am begging, begging as an imbecile, to have you again. To prove that I never cheated, I lied about doing it but never did. You'd think I'd be crazy to cheat on a crazy girl like you? Baby, that was a joke, although...you are a little crazy but I still love you. I love you...yeah...yeah, I do. I know you are asking, when will this stupid man stop talking and it's now. Well, wait...just let me say this. Marry me, marry me so I don't have to pretend anymore. So...please, be kind to my bastard heart and marry me.
A/N: you know well a Kasper fic isn't a Kasper angst fic if it doesn't end in a 'but are they together? did he die? did she die?' way
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californ1asnow · 6 months
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Call Me Up Again - pt. 2 Mike Schmidt x Reader
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Part two of All Too Well Angst!!! So much angst everyone I've decided to turn this into a miniseries, this post being the second part. I'll continue to link chapters as I post them This is also being updated on ao3 (cough cough) No warnings this time 1.9k words
Snowflakes fall silently, coating everything around them in a white dust. The wind blows with a crisp chill, nipping at all the rose-pink noses. It sends shivers down the backs of those who dare be out in this weather. The pumpkins and fake graveyard decor that had once littered every home’s front yard has long since been swapped for tinsel garlands and pine wreaths. 
The Schmidt residence beams with colored string lights and holiday music. A tall, sturdy evergreen sits patiently by the window. Its branches are decorated with years worth of homemade ornaments, ranging in all size and age from both Mike and Abby. The red skirt beneath it falls relatively empty of presents, only donning the few small ones Mike could afford to buy this year. They’re wrapped pathetically in an old birthday paper, the only wrapping Mike could find to reuse. 
Usually, the tree is so full that he’s had to store things in his closet, but that was when you were still a part of their Christmas. Stockings hung happily above the fireplace and a love so innocent it wraps the house in a warm glow. However, it’s void of that feeling now, instead Mike is left to pick up the pieces that you once fit together. Abby doesn’t understand why you don’t come over anymore, or why Mike has been so quiet lately. All she knows is that something went wrong, and now everyone is upset. She’s stopped bringing up your name in conversation when talking to Mike, because it always ends with him withdrawn and retreating to the solidarity of his room. 
That didn’t stop her from drawing you, though. Sometimes she’d sit at her desk, tears collecting in the well of her eyes, and doodle old memories of the three of you. She remembers them being happy, but by the time the crayons were set aside and the picture was finished, it was a glum mess of dark blues and frowning faces. 
After a drawing is finished she’d slip past Mike’s room, quietly tiptoeing out the front door, and make a break for the house across the street. Your house. She’d work fast, her feet carrying her quickly to and fro. It was unclear from her perspective whether you paid attention to what she’d give you, but by the time she slipped a new piece of paper underneath your door, the old one she had gifted you was gone. 
Mike was unaware of it all. 
He had found a new job in town where he could bury all his thoughts. It was working construction for a local contractor, a job that certainly wasn’t ideal but it paid better than what he’d been used to. Unfortunately, it required longer hours and ate up all his free time, meaning Abby needed a new babysitter. A job that was once happily filled by your company, now replaced with an afterschool program suggested to him from a flyer he found at work. He hated the thought of her sitting in essentially another classroom, surrounded by strangers and snotty kids, but it was his only option left. 
With a third of his paycheck dedicated to it, Abby now spends her weekdays at the nearby YMCA. 
The first time he told her about the new program didn’t go over very well. He remembers it clearly.  
“Abby please,” his irritated voice interrupts her incessant protesting, “listen, it’s the only place that can watch you.” 
“No it’s not!” She yelled at him, her finger pointing to your house across the street, “I want her back!”  
A pang of guilt struck his chest at her words. The lack of your presence has clearly been taking a toll on the both of them, but it’s the first time Abby’s ever been so vocal about it. He crossed his arms with a sigh, watching his little sister stare up at him with solemn eyes. Her lip quivering ever so slightly, evident that she’s holding back tears. 
He crouches down to her level, just like he had done to you so many nights ago, “I’m sorry,” he pleaded with her, “but she’s not coming back right now.” 
Her head shook with disbelief, stubbornly stuck in her spot, “Then make her come back.” 
You’re not sure when the Mike shaped hole in your heart stopped aching, but it’s significantly less sore compared to a fresh wound. That’s not to say the constant reminder of him and Abby living across the street from you doesn’t sting. It’s hard enough to ignore all his calls, but trying to get to your car while avoiding his gaze is even worse. Eventually, he gave up on contacting you by the third month of radio silence. It hurt both of you, but you knew deep down neither of you could continue functioning like how you were. 
The back and forth pull of his affection took too big of a toll on your mental well being. You can remember every moment down to the exact detail of how much you craved for him to just do something, anything. 
All those times you held him in your soft embrace whispering sweet nothings in his ear, reassuring him everything will be okay, just for him to turn around the next day and never bring it up again. Or when you’d run your warm fingers through his hair to calm him down after a panic attack, and he’d let his head rest in your lap. Words of affection dripping off his lips like a rich honey, warming you up from the inside out. Then he’d disappear for a while, claiming he needed some space to figure stuff out, all the while you’d beg and plead for him to tell you what’s on his mind, only for him to give you nothing back.You stood by him regardless though, keeping a silent promise that you’d always be there for him when he needed it, a love that was never reciprocated back. 
A long sigh escapes from you, eying the new delivery that just appeared by your door. You shuffle towards it weakly, unsure if you really wanted to torture yourself by looking at it. It’s one of those things that curiosity will drive you to do, unable to ignore it like a pedestrian passing by a car crash. The paper crinkles under your touch, unfolding it reveals the familiar childlike style of Abby’s drawings. A man drawn in green crayon frowns up at you, holding hands with an equally sad looking child. Your gaze drifts over to the other side of the paper, highlighting a person relatively similar to you standing alone with their arms crossed, angry. Your heart hurts at the sight of it, knowing that Abby is implying that you’re angry at the two of them. You shake your head quickly, trying to evade any tears that threaten to spill. It’s not fair for Abby to be caught in the middle of whatever is going on between you and Mike, and you realize that. 
The sound of your phone ringing breaks your train of thought, and when you check the caller ID your breath hitches. Standing in the middle of your living room frozen with indecisiveness, you stare at the screen while chewing on the bottom of your lip. Without thinking, you accept the call.
“Hello?” 
There’s a sound on the other end of the line, somewhere in between a choke and a gasp, and then your name is mumbled out in disbelief. 
“I didn’t think you’d actually pick up…” Mike’s voice is still a little startled, mimicking the internal panic in your chest. 
You suck in a deep, steady breath before answering, “Yeah, I didn’t think so either.” There’s a slight pause from both of you, unsure how to continue the conversation. It’s felt like years since you last heard his voice. 
“Are you…doing okay?” 
“...Yeah.” Your answer is unconvincing, but Mike doesn’t have any ground to be able to question it. So it’s left like that, timidly dangling in the air between you both. 
You hear shuffling in the background, and a smaller voice asking a question before he dismisses it. Your heart lurches thinking about how Abby is there, trying to figure out who her older brother might be on the phone with. It almost makes your cool demeanor crack, urging you back into your savior complex. 
“Uh, sorry about that,” your phone crackles back to life, “anyways, I wanted to ask you something.” 
“Oh okay.” 
“Can you,” he stops, leaving you on edge, “meet me somewhere?” 
The lack of response from you causes him to start rambling, going on about how it would be better to talk in person, and how it would be easier if you could see each other’s expressions. Soon afterwards, a string of apologies ensue, and you pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. 
“Okay Mike. Promise me this will be worth it.”
“I promise.”
A young waitress stares nervously at your booth. Orders continually piling up, hungry customers giving her rude looks whenever she ignores their impatient huffs. It’s been a good thirty minutes since you first showed, and she’s checked up on you at least a handful of times by now. Mike had suggested this little diner down the street from your house, and you agreed to meet here. 
However, it seems like you’re the only one who showed up. 
Your back is pressed against the uncomfortable foam board of your seat, a leg bobbing rapidly out of habit. You pick at the pills on your sweatshirt sleeve, trying to avert your gaze from the sympathetic waitress. Prior to your predicament, she had asked if you were dining alone, and you told her no. However, It’s starting to look like you just might be. With anger bubbling inside of you, a voice in the back of your head is saying you should have seen this coming. It’s so typical of Mike to make promises that he’s unwilling to keep. 
The air smells like grease, mostly from the old fryers sitting in the back of the kitchen. Oil bubbling and brooding in their tanks, waiting for someone to drop a morsel of food so it could shrivel in the scalding lard. Stomach stirring with disgust, a wave of nausea washes over you. It’s unclear exactly what’s causing it, you’d like to give credit to the sleazy restaurant, but something deep down points to the lack of a certain person’s company. 
You keep your attention trained on the dwindling heat of your coffee. Both corners of your mouth scrunch downwards at the smooth ceramic now held in your cold hands. When did watching a cup of coffee become so interesting? 
“Would you like some more?” The sweet but timid waitress asks you, now back at her spot beside your table.  
A joyless smile flashes across your face, a futile attempt at masking your dejection. Pushing the cup forward, silently accepting a fresh refill from her kettle. 
“He’s not worth it.” She adds, tipping off your mug. Her eyes refuse to meet yours as she does so, and you are thankful for that fact. 
“No,” you respond back, “he never is, I guess.” Your voice is shaky, as are the hands that are folded in your lap. 
Mike is not worth the years of being hurt and pushed away. Not worth the tears that fall after coming home from a night spent at his house, inconsolably sobbing because you know no matter what you do it leads back to the same thing. To give up all your time, love, and patience just to receive nothing in exchange. 
It’s not worth the unrequited love. 
“Can I have the check please?” You ask quietly, still avoiding the gaze of the girl next you. 
Her head shakes with pity, fingers wrapping around the arm of the kettle, “it’s on the house.”
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TAGLIST - @wriothesleysbimbo @psbc @victimsofadownn @that1lxnlybxch @callsignwidow
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apomaro-mellow · 7 months
Text
Wrong Number 3
(2:21 am) I just realized something (2:21 am) Ur a cooking teacher (2:22 am) Who can't fry a egg (2:23 am) You're a fraud 🫵
[7:29 am] I can fry an egg just fine I just can't make the yolks runny. It's too hard to time it right. And why are you up thinking about eggs at 2 am?
(7:47 am) I was up thinking about you at 2 am
Steve felt his stomach flip as he sipped his coffee and set his belongings down in his classroom. Eddie didn't play games. He always said exactly what he was thinking. And it drew Steve wild.
(7:48 am) And about how your students might clown on you for not being able to scramble an egg
[7:49] Aww you're worried about me?
(7:49 am) Kids can be little monsters (7:50 am) Actually how old are the little monsters you teach?
[7:51] Youngest is 6 and oldest is 14. Speaking of, they'll be arriving soon so...
(7:52 am) Godspeed you academic warrior
Eddie didn't typically text so late on weeknights. Not since learning Steve was a teacher. It was just that he truly HAD been up and thinking of him. Steve drove him crazy and he thought he was doing a good job keeping a lid on it. 2 am texts were what happened when the lid got loose but Steve didn't seem put off by it.
At about half past three, Steve called him. Eddie was glad he made that leap with his first call. The sound of Steve's voice never failed to warm him through. Eddie was in the middle of collecting axes for sharpening at the end of his shift.
"What's cookin' good lookin'?", Eddie greeted as he picked up.
"Today was good. Had a really riveting conversation about meatloaf versus pate with the kids", Steve said.
"Meatloaf rocks and pate is just cold meatloaf for rich people. End of discussion."
"Well, we talked about it for like fifteen minutes. Had a real interesting tangent on forcemeats in general."
Eddie paused. "Excuse me?"
"You'd be surprised at what kids are into. This one I taught last year was really into rice-"
"I need you to backtrack just a bit. 'Forcemeat'?"
"Yeah it's-oh grow up", Steve chided while shaking his head. He had just gotten home and was taking off his work clothes for something more comfortable. He thought about what Eddie might think he'd look nice in. "Not even my 12 year olds are this childish."
There was something about the way Steve talked about his students. Like they were his actual children. The conversation continued for a few minutes more before Steve suddenly had to hang up. Eddie tried not to think much of it, but it wasn't the first time that it had happened.
Steve ended the call just as Robin came into the apartment. She narrowed her eyes at him, then looked to the phone in his hand. Steve hid it behind his back and winced at practically telling on himself.
"You're hiding something."
"No I'm not."
"And now you're lying to me."
"No I'm not!"
Robin pounced and wrestled him for the phone. It wasn't a real fight of course. Steve could've pinned her in seconds but a part of him was tired of keeping the secret. And obviously, she knew how to unlock his phone.
"Who's Eddie?", she asked, sitting on his back triumphantly.
"A guy."
"Thank you, I had no idea it could be a man's name. You've been texting him aaaaaaa llllllllllllot."
"Are you reading them!? Robin!"
"Where did you meet him?", Robin said as she got up, continuing to read through their conversations.
"I um, technically, haven't. Yet."
Robin gave him an odd look and Steve spilled everything to her. To her credit, Robin listened to the full story before throwing one of the couch pillows at him.
"Stephen Elliott Harrington! Did no one teach you stranger danger? You just kept texting him? And calling? And I saw the pictures you sent. You know he can find out where we live? What if I came home to your skinless corpse??!"
It went on for a while like that and when Robin was finished, she collapsed onto the couch. Steve sat across from her on the coffee table. He waited for her to silently process it all.
"You think he's cute?"
"What I've seen of him, yeah."
Robin sighed. "I can't believe you're turning into the guy who has a internet girlfriend."
Steve rolled his eyes but then balked when she started to read through his messages again.
"And I can't believe you haven't even started flirting yet."
"I've been flirting with him the whole time!" Maybe not the whole time but-
"You're giving him Diet Steve. Why are you holding back?"
Steve shrugged, looking sheepish now. Now Robin was rolling her eyes.
"Steve, we're getting you a date."
"But he's-"
"A virtual one. Jesus is he an axe murderer?", Robin said as she looked to one of the texts.
"No, he just works with them. Axes! Not murderers."
--------------------------------
Eddie was about to sit down to a movie when his phone buzzed.
[5:17 pm] Thinking about you.
Oh. Now that was some text to get.
(5:18 pm) Oh yeah? (5:18 pm) What about me?
Steve looked to Robin. They were sitting cross-legged next to each other on his bed.
"What do I say?"
"Be honest, duh."
"If I'm honest I'm gonna talk about his hands."
Robin shook her hands at him like she wanted to wring his neck. Steve got the idea and decided to put himself out there.
[5:21 pm] Your hands. I think about them a lot actually
Eddie had not given his own hands much thought. But knowing that Steve admired them, he gave them a second look. He thought about them gripping Steve's thighs.
(5:23) You're gonna make me blush (5:24) What would you do with my hands Stevie?
Steve panicked and looked to Robin. "Are we sexting? Is he getting me to sext?"
"That's the idea, dingus. I said I was getting you a date. Now tell him what you want him to do."
"I don't know I'd....I'd want to..." Steve trailed off, looking at his phone while the fingers of his other hand brushed against his lips.
Robin stole the phone from him again and started typing. "'First...I'd suck..on them'."
"Robin!"
"Is that not what you want?"
Steve shrugged and Robin continued. "You've got me on the clock for five more minutes before I go out. You dictate, I'll type."
Steve hated how much he liked the idea. Especially when he heard the ping of Eddie's reply. "What did he say?"
Robin cleared her throat. "'Yeah? You wanna suck on them? I bet you got a beautiful mouth.' Oh he's good."
"Yeah", Steve breathed out. "Really good." He thought about Eddie sticking his fingers in and pressing down on his tongue, his rings tasting metallic and so nice.
"'I wanna choke on them'", Robin said out loud as she typed. "Is it too soon to call him Daddy?"
"What?!" That snapped Steve out of it.
"Oh come on. Tattoos, the hair, his job. He wants to be called Daddy."
"Robin don't call him Daddy."
"Pops?"
Steve took his phone from her and looked to Eddie's reply.
(5:30 pm) I'd only choke you if you were being bad (5:30 pm) Are you gonna be bad baby?
[5:31 pm] Maybe. I can be good too. So good.
(5:32 pm) Lemme call you baby wanna hear you
Steve dialed without hesitation just as Robin was leaving. Her work was done.
"Don't get murdered while I'm out!", she shouted just as Eddie picked up.
"Hey pretty baby", Eddie said.
"Hey. You said you wanted to hear me?"
"Yeah. I wanna hear you say those things with your own voice."
"Like how I wanna choke on your fingers? Among other things?"
Steve could hear Eddie let out a breath on the other end. The power he felt right now was intoxicating.
"Bet you'd look so good on your knees."
Steve hummed while pressing his fingertips to his lips. If Eddie asked, he'd suck on them. Let the wet noises fill his ears, let Eddie know how good he could be.
"Darlin' you went quiet."
"I'm thinking", Steve said, laying down on his bed. "I wanna show you, Eddie."
Eddie swallowed. This man would be the death of him. He'd nearly jerked off to just a picture of his fully clothed lower half. If he saw more...if he saw everything-
"Eddie! We've got a Code Red!"
"Jesus! Knock!"
Steve sat up quick at the shouting coming from Eddie's end. It sounded like someone had barged in.
"Eddie?"
"Sorry. Sorry Steve. I gotta handle something. Um, call you back? Please?"
"Eddie, I want to video call you."
"V..video...?"
"Yes. I wanna see you. Please."
"Yes. Yes, a thousand times-hold your horses! Uh, tomorrow? It's Saturday, so you're free, right? Can we make it a date?"
"A date", Steve nodded. "I'll see you then. I'll be thinking of you."
"And I'll be counting the seconds. 1-one thousand, 2-one thousand, 3-one th-ouch! Okay! Damn!"
Eddie hung up and Steve still had the phone to his ear, smiling. He had a video call date. He had a date with Eddie!
Shit what should he wear?
Part 5
Tag Team (CLOSED)
@anne-bennett-cosplayer @estrellami-1 @newtstabber @omletlove @ifyoudonlysurrender @rehfan @morganski-19 @corvidcantina @dragonmama76 @just-ladyme @tinyplanet95 @goodolefashionedloverboi @idoquitelikebread @kittydeadbones @manda-panda-monium @rhapsodyinalto @paintsplatteredandimperfect @keylime-green @ihavekidneys @samsoble @honorarybrit81 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @aizawa-emma @deleataecount @thesuninyaface @fromapayphone @justmeinadaze @hbyrde36 @queenie-ofthe-void @resident-gay-bitch @bestwifehaver @dangdirtydemons @ellietheasexylibrarian @perseus-notjackson @pyrohonk @holysteddie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @mrsjellymunson @geekymagicalpotato @notaqueenakhaleesi
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wraithlafitte · 3 months
Text
you need to rest
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pairing: sam winchester x reader
CONTENT: fluff, established relationship, reader is shorter than sam (but who isn't)
word count: 724
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You tiptoed down the stairs from the second floor of Bobby's house, careful not to step on the places you knew creaked. You had awoken feeling the full effects of your dehydration, and needed a glass of water asap or you were certain your mouth would shrivel up and die.
As you reached the bottom of the stairs, you noticed a faint glow coming from inside the library. The men often stayed up late researching, so you didn't even look to see who it was, beelining to the kitchen to get your water.
The doors separating the library from the kitchen were closed, so it wasn't until you were on your way back to bed when you glanced inside the library.
It wasn't Bobby up late, like you assumed. It was Sam, laying over a pile of books, his head resting on his forearm like a pillow. His laptop was open in front of him, casting his face in a ghostly light that emphasized the tired lines etched into his skin.
You walked to the desk softly and placed your water glass down, leaning over Sam to close his browser windows and turn off his laptop.
You gently shook Sam's shoulder. He jerked upright and grabbed your arm, always ready for a fight. "It's just me, Sam," you whispered. He instantly relaxed and dropped your arm.
"Sorry," he said, rubbing his eyes. "Guess I fell asleep."
"It's four in the morning," you told him sympathetically. "You've been working yourself to the bone over this thing. You need to rest."
"I'm fine," Sam croaked. He looked haggard, dark bags under his eyes and lines carved into his brow from squinting.
A few moments from the past week clicked into place in your mind. Sam leaning against the kitchen counter, arms folded and eyes closed. Sam dozing off in the car on the way to town. Sam with his forehead pressed to a bookshelf, jumping when the book fell from his hand, and insisting that he hadn't been falling asleep. Going to bed before Sam and waking up with him not there.
"Jesus. How much sleep have you been getting?" you asked concernedly. "You look like shit."
"I don't know."
"Don't know or won't say because you know it's not enough?"
Sam heaved a sigh that turned into a yawn. "Maybe like, three hours a night? Two? I've gone longer with less."
"A year without a soul doesn't count," you said, swatting his arm. "Come on, we're going to bed."
"But-" he protested.
"Sam."
He closed his eyes defeatedly. "Okay. You win."
Sam rose from the chair slowly and grabbed you into his arms sleepily, resting his chin on your head.
You led him by his limp arm up the stairs to the room you two were staying in, although lately it had just been you. Sam didn't bother to put pajamas on, simply kicking off his shoes and falling face-first into the mattress. You giggled, setting your water down on the side table, and followed suit.
Sam peeked one eye open to look at you. You brushed his hair behind his ear. "You gotta take better care of yourself."
He smiled half-heartedly. "That's what I have you for," he teased. As you scoffed, he turned onto his side and pulled you against his chest. You snuggled against his warm body, face stuffed into his flannel, breathing in the scent of him.
You yawned, causing him to yawn as well, sending you both into a fit of giggles. You turned your face solemn again. "Promise me you'll come to bed when I do this week. At least."
Sam looked lovingly into your upturned face and kissed you on the forehead. "Promise," he whispered. His hand cupped the back of your head and pulled you close into his neck again.
You kissed the base of his throat. "I love you. I don't want you to run yourself into the ground."
He exhaled lightly. "I won't. I know you won't let me. And I know it's not your job to take care of me, but... I appreciate it."
Your arm curled around his side, rubbing his back. "I know," you said simply.
As the first pale fingers of dawn crept over the horizon, you and Sam had dozed off in each other's arms, breathing in tandem.
Finally resting.
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divider by @saradika-graphics
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minhosimthings · 4 days
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Me Quedo Mirandote || 18+
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Pairings: Jake × fem!reader
Request: I dont know if you accept a req now but... fresh grad worker! (jake or hyunjin) × ojt student y/n. Y/n was assigned to (jake or hyunjin) to train her but yn like riding (jake or hyunjin) in his swivel chair. (Jake or Hyunjin)'s work desk cubicle is in kinda hidden in the corner. (cockwarming, cowgirl, softdom!(jake or hj))
Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, 18+, thigh riding, degradation, 1% sir kink because I can, orgasm control eyy, cock riding, unprotected sex (zont zo it), mention of blood, fingering, praise, semi-public sex, role-play ish situation?, Use of petnames 'doll', overstimulation, dom!Jake, sub!reader, swearing, reader wears a dress
A/N: On popular demand, I decided to just copy paste my og Hyunjin work and change the names to Jake!
Hyunjin version
Never in a million years would you ever have thought that you'd be fixing your frizzied hair and ruined lipstick in your soon-to-be office's bathroom, but here you were, your lipstick three shades lighter and your white dress all ruined.
And no one would ever question how Sim Jaeyun's shirt had the exact same lipstick shade stains on it. Why would they? A playboy never loses his instincts, even if he's freshly graduated and teaching the only on- the-job student with full responsibility.
The fortunate student being you.
And it wasn't to say Jake wasn't fortunate as well. You were compliant, perhaps even exactly like him. He wondered how you had ever managed to get through your classes so well during the day and get through him during the cool intoxicating nights.
Another thing Jake was fortunate to have was his "private office". And by office, he meant his own comfortably small cubicle, which was far away from the prying eyes of his co-workers. It was weird for a fresh out of school student to have his own cubicle, but he guessed that his workplace valued privacy to an extreme level, so much so that his "office" hid discarded red laces, tainted white silks and on the job students perfectly.
"And that's how you write up a summary for the graphs of the month." Jake clapped his hands together, trying not to sound overly positive, as you stared dead eyed into the computer screen. He had been explaining the concept to you for an hour now, and although you'd been standing resting your chin on his head, you were mentally exhausted.
"Doll, you doing alright?" Jake cocked a brow at you, standing up to your level, arms going to your waist as if it was his daily routine. Well, technically it was his daily routine.
"Do I look like I'm doing alright?" You scoffed, eyes flittering between Jake's eyes and lips, "Don't I deserve a promotion for all the work I've done Sir?"
Jake's lips morphed into a slow smirk at your widened lamb eyes and your 'good girl' pout. His hands gripped into your skin tighter, as he leaned in closer, pressing a kiss to your neck.
"You're just a student Y/N. I can't give you a promotion so quick." He smirked into the nape of your neck, knowing what was coming next. How couldn't he? With how many times, his favourite 'employee' had begged on her knees to get a 'promotion'.
"But sir haven't I been a good girl?" You whispered, staring at Jake's plump lips, "I even wore the dress you bought me." You motioned towards your clearly visible cleavage in your summer dress, one of Jake's most favourite sights for his eyes to ogle at any day.
Your hands went up to his luscious locks of hair, two flicks framing his face perfectly. God, his hair was as soft as cotton, you thought, a complete contrast to how he behaved once you were suffocating his length with your pussy.
Jake's hands slid down to your ass and pulled your hips against his body, your hand pressing against his desk. It made the dress you were wearing ride up your thighs, exposing your panties. His hot lips moved away from yours and down to your neck, kissing and gently biting the delicate skin. You let out a little gasp and arched your neck, it felt divine.
“Doll, with the way you're gasping now, I wonder what you'd do once I actually start with the usual." Jake chuckled darkly, pressing a rough, carnivorous kiss to your lips, "fuck—be a good girl for me now."
Jake pulled away from the kiss and sat back on his chair, leaning as prosaic as he could against it, and rubbing his hand over his thigh, ever so cordially inviting you over to him. Why would you ever refuse? It was your favourite place to be at any chance you got. Some days, that's the only place you wanted to be, on a hot lazy day, when you wanted nothing more than Jake to shut up about presentations and slides and spread out his leg for you.
You manoeuvred yourself so that your covered but damp core met with Jake's thigh, the hem of your dress gracefully swooped over his thigh, as you parted your legs enough to let your clit brushing against the fabric. The contact caused your mouth to fall open in a silent sigh.
"Already?" Jake clicked his tongue, "That's sort of pathetic don't you think doll?"
From this angle you looked pretty to Jake with your head thrown back, pupils blown out with lust and a prominent blush on your face. It made the animalistic side in Jake ravenous for more.
Jake adjusted his position on the chair, your loud mewl made him chuckle and press a kiss to your forehead. You hands went up to grip his soft, ebony hair, which was tied perfectly in a ponytail. Well, tied perfectly, until you ran your hands through the follicles, throwing the hair band off, and continuing to grip his open hair tightly. Your grip made Jake silently moan.
"Feel that?" He lifted a cocky brow at your pleasured expression, "It's just for you, doll."
Slowly you began rocking your hips back and forth, letting your clit get maximum friction against the clothed barriers. Your hands gripped at his shirt now tightly, leaving tiny creases all along as you chased your release.
Somewhere along the way, Jake had abandoned his work and had turned all of his attention on you, gripping your hips harshly, digging marks, guiding it along his thigh while pressing open mouthed kisses along your shoulder and neck. The chair was creaking worse than a wooden bed, but there wasn't a care in the world for that.
Jake's hands move up your thighs towards your hips pushing you harder against his thigh gaining more melodic moans from your mouth.
You rut yourself faster against him, moaning louder and louder until you finally reach what you thought was your peak.
"Jake," you whined, his kisses descend even further down your body, lips at the top of your chest, eyes peering up into your desperate and pleading eyes.
"Fuck," you sigh out, when Jake grabs your breast, lavishing it an equal amount of attention, his hands moving your hips harder and faster against him, your orgasm building swiftly at his actions.
"Beg for it darling." Jake's sadistic smile hit your face, "Be a good slut, and beg for your cum."
"Yeunnie—fuck!" You moaned out as his thigh gave a little flick upwards, "please Jake—"
"So desperate," he mumbles, tone laced with dominance, hands gliding across the back of your thighs, teasing you.
"So wet," he adds, doing as you asked and sliding his finger across your clothed core, a sinful groan escaping you, head lolling back against.
"Come for me," he husks out, letting you fall over the edge with a guttural moan, back arching, as your legs trembled, hips rocking at the pleasure that filled you. A pleasant buzz consumed your body as you rode out the aftershocks of your powerful release, your body practically going limp on his thigh at the exhaustion of coming so hard.
Your chest rose and fell with every unsteady breath, as you steadied yourself on Jake's thigh, leaning your head towards his shoulder, from how dizzy you were. Being a cowgirl really took a lot of energy from you.
As you were getting ready to stand up, you felt Jake's arm grip yours tightly.
"So soon, pretty?" He pulls you in for a rough kiss, biting your lip, he could taste salty blood on them, "I'm not even half done."
“Come here,” Jake demanded as he pulled your arm. You move around from the back of the chair as he pushes it out a bit from the table.
“Oh baby. Aren’t you just deliciously naughty?” he says as his finger slips in between your folds to find you positively dripping. “Is this all for me?” he asks as he starts to rub your clit in slow circular movements. The stimulation was killing you, yet you obliged, dumbly nodding along to Jake's words.
“So greedy,” he whispers. He slips his finger from your pussy, his hands come up to your shoulders, and he pushes the dress off of them.
“Come here and sit on my cock,” he says with that lopsided smirk you love so much.
Lifting yourself up a little, you line him up with your entrance, and then you sit back down and let him slide into your wet, needy pussy. Filling you so perfectly. Stretching you completely. You slowly sink down onto him, as he grips your waist harder, holding you down.
“You can take it.” He moans out. He slowly pushes himself in a little more, and you swear you hear him whimper. You cry out, laying down on his chest.
“Shit!” He goes inch by inch, and you groan louder and louder as he fills you out.
"Fuck,” Jake groans. And then you start to move. Slowly, up and down. Your hands rest on his hair for leverage as you bounce yourself on his cock.Your tight grip on his hair makes Jake throw his head back slightly, his eyes almost rolling to the back with the sheer amount of pleasure he was recieving from your hands running through his locks.
"Fuck—baby keep doing that." He mumbles, not even sure if you've heard it, you probably did as was evident from your now tighter grip, your fingers dancing their pretty ballet through Jake's velvety hair.
Jake grabs a tight hold of your hips, and he lifts you up a little before he starts to thrust up into you. Harder and faster than you managed. Pounding into you over and over.
"Fuck—Jake!" You gasp, a little louder than usual, "touch me—please."
Your begs elated Jake, how could he refuse? He shakes his hand from your hip and presses his fingers to your cunt. His motions on your clit are as frantic as his thrusts into you.
Pushing you closer and closer to the edge. And with a final buck into you so deep that he nudged your cervix as his thumb pressed down on your clit, you both cum. Hard and fast.
Your hips gyrated harder, until the spurring had come close; hot liquid squirted on his cock. The orgasm rips through you at such intensity that your eyes roll into the back of your head, and you scream out his name. His cock twitches as his cum spurts inside you.
Jake tilts his head to rest on your chest as he tries to catch his breath, and he moans out your name. You kiss him softly at the top of his head. Your fingers are raking through his hair as you try to calm your own breathing down to normal.
"You've made such a mess." Jake chuckled, pressing his forehead to yours, "my messy girl."
"How about those graphs now, Mr Sim?" You asked, a tint of cockishness smeared in your voice.
"Graphs?" Jake laughed, gripping your hips again.
"We're not even a quarter done yet, doll."
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AITA for possibly emasculating my husband?
My husband (27 M) and I (32 F) have recently gotten married and bought a house together. For context, we started dating three years ago, and I immediately fell in love with him. We met through a mutual acquaintance and he asked me out after twenty minutes of conversation. He was a perfect gentleman, incredibly intelligent, very handsome, funny, hardworking and kind. On our third date, when we began to get serious, he told me he was transgender – that he had been born female but transitioned to male in his early twenties. This came as a surprise but didn't really change anything. He was the perfect boyfriend and is currently a fantastic husband. He's not out to most people, but a few mutual friends know.
Since we bought a place together, we've both started jobs in the area. He has a very good full-time job at an office about twenty minutes away, and my job is part-time, about ten minutes away from home and five minutes from his office building. His office building has a fast food place next door where most employees get lunch.
Often, my husband forgets his homemade lunch, and I make sure to bring it to him during my lunch break, or after my shift ends. I take a lot of pride in my cooking, and I want to show off to him, so I like to bring him different kinds of meals, in what I've been told is kitchy and cutesy presentation (I write him a love note on the napkin, or make a heart out of vegetables, or fold a rose out of salami slices, etc.)
I take the elevator up to his office, hand him his lunch, give him a kiss, and then I'm off back to work. It's almost like a ritual of ours, and sometimes I find myself looking forward to him having forgotten his lunch. (Does that make me a bad person?)
A mutual friend of ours who works at my husband's office told me in private that I'm emasculating him by bringing him overly cutesy lunches and, her words, not mine, "fawning over him." She also knows about my husband's past, and is very educated and active in LGBT+ rights outside of work. I'm really not as educated, and I grew up in a conservative immigrant household and neighborhood where I hadn't even encountered anyone LGBT+ until I was in college. When she brought this up to me, it made me incredibly self-conscious, and worried that I wasn't validating my husband's masculinity. Recently, I didn't take him his lunch when he forgot it, and he asked me if I was mad at him when he got home. I assured him I wasn't, but now I'm worried.
I'm also worried to ask him what to do, because I don't want it to seem as though I'm treating him any differently because he happens to be transgender. It's never been an issue before, but now I'm thinking more deeply about our relationship and wondering whether I'm unconsciously emasculating him. I love my husband and don't want to hurt him, but I'm wondering whether I have already, by making him seem less masculine in front of his coworkers.
Am I the asshole?
What are these acronyms?
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radiant-reid · 1 year
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Single mom reader x daughter (5 year old) and Spencer misses her dance recital and when he goes to make it up to her she calls him dad “daddy…I looked for you in the crowd” “why did you have to leave again”
One of the first things you learned about Spencer was how his job worked. It was something he was very clear about being on his list of cons when it came to dating. Honestly, it didn't phase you. Not when there were some men who lived in the same city that would spend less time with you than Spencer. He was dedicated, loyal, kind, funny, romantic, witty, and not at all put off by your daughter.
Maisie fell in love maybe faster than you did. He's so great with her. Always willing to read her stories and listen to her chatter.
At five, she's a little worse at understanding his schedule than you are. Sometimes he'll be at dinner three nights in a row, and other times, you won't see him for a week.
It's why she sobs into your shoulder on the way to your car after her dance recital. "I looked and he wasn't there." She complains.
You bounce her up and down, soothing her. "Baby, it's okay. We talked about how Spencer can't always be here with us, and momma was there."
She nods, letting you buckle her into the car seat. "I know, and he always comes back."
You tap her on the nose. "You're my smart little girl. Should we get ice cream on the way home?"
"Please, please, please!" She cheers, already forgetting about her disappointment. Oh, to have a five-year-old's brain.
She's happier with ice cream, but it might not have been the best time to pump her full of sugar, so you let her race up the stairs to burn off some energy.
She squeals when you round the corner to your apartment door, and you're immediately concerned, quickly speeding up to catch up with her to see what's wrong.
It's not a bad squeal, it's a Spencer's-here squeal.
He looks like shit if you were being honest, sunken features from not sleeping, but he's smiling, and he's got ice cream.
You greet him with a quick kiss after he's finished hugging Maisie before unlocking your apartment. She keeps looking between the snacks he brought and you, gaining the confidence to ask. "Can I have a second ice cream?"
It's already nine, so you shake your head. "You can have some for breakfast tomorrow if you're in bed in 10 minutes." You challenge her.
"Can Spencer read to me?" She asks hopefully, looking up at him with puppy eyes. You can't say no to them usually, and he definitely can't.
"Of course." He jumps in to say. "I missed it."
She beams at him for a second before she races off, leaving you with him, your perfect boyfriend. "Hi." You say, chest to chest with him as he pulls you closer to him by your waist.
"I've missed you, too." He tells you. "And this." You don't have a chance to ask what he means before his lips are firmly on yours.
"They'll be more of that to come after you've had a long sleep." You tell him, winking at him.
He grins happily, nodding. "I'm going to go read a very quick story then." He says.
You go with him after putting the ice cream in the freezer, kissing Maisie on the forehead and telling her you're proud of her and that you love her before leaving Spencer with her for a story.
"Can I ask something?" She asks him, pulling her covers up to her chin. It's after her bedtime story, and he half assumes she's doing it to stay up later.
He nods, sitting on the edge of her bed. "Anything you want, little one."
"Why do you always have to go working?" She asks with a pout. "I wanted you to come to my dance, and I looked for you in the crowd, daddy."
She doesn't even realize what she's just said, and she definitely doesn't understand the enormity of it for him. It's one title he hasn't had, until now. With the perfect child of his perfect girlfriend, life has never been better.
He's tearful at that one word, but he avoids showing it too much to her. "I know, and I'm sorry. Maybe I can get a special showing tomorrow?"
"Yes!" She agrees, like it's the best idea ever she's ever heard. Her little face lights up and it's one of the most beautiful things he's ever seen.
"I can't wait." He tells her. "But you've got to sleep so you'll have energy tomorrow." She nods in agreement and he leans down to kiss her forehead. "Sleep well, princess."
Spencer's upset, almost sleeping already, and he tiptoes out of her room before heading to yours.
Something's wrong when he walks in. He's teary-eyed with a wide smile, looking like something big has just happened.
"What's up?" You ask curiously.
"She called me dad." He says, still in shock.
You open your mouth, mirroring his shock before smiling. "Spencer... thank you." You decide on saying. "You're the best thing to happen to her."
He shakes his head. "No, you're both the best things to happen to me."
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