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#or one of my moms students <- student who made all the dresses for the haunted town tour cosplaying kanaya that one year and then me showin
rxtgallows · 5 months
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being the same age as most long term lolitas were when they started getting into it but its different now bc there is just so much less of a community it feels like... like for me i feel more like i am finding a lot of individuals but no local communities bc its just rlly died down i think... like i found a 2013 pph article about a lolita meetup downtown. i dont think that wld happen now even if i COULD find a local community
#i think if theres not a lolita tea party/panel this year at pcm i will host one next year...#by then ill have been actively in the subculture for like a year and ill know a little more.. rn im JUST starting out i wld have no clue#what to do... but like i have ideas for stuff that wld be soo fun and ive always wanted to host/participate in an event or panel#once i was picked to participate in the fandom state alchemist test or w/e its called but then they wldnt let me after they saw my boot#which was so fail bc i absolutely cld have done tthe challenges with a broken foot. BLAH anyway#or like i hope they try the jfashion show again UGH probably not since it had to be cancelled due to lack of participation...#i jst would looove to have lolita friends in the area... idk how successful i wld be at converting someone and my sibling doesnt count#or ONE lolita friend... i only know of one lolita in maine and shes pretty well known in the NA lolita community from what i can tell so#ive met her a couple times actually she is very nice. idk what i am trying to say tbh#im more open to making friends at pcm in a lolita context and not a cosplay context bc every cosplayer ive interacted with for more than a#passing comment or picture turned out to be like umm a freak#or one of my moms students <- student who made all the dresses for the haunted town tour cosplaying kanaya that one year and then me showin#my mom the meetup pictures and her going omg.... thats d///////#she was a really really incredibly seamstress btw her costumes were beautiful. anyway. iconic.#i think probably i havent talked to anyone in a while and it is wearing me down i have to make these massive posts every day
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rubyreduji · 4 months
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The Christmas Boyfriend — yjh
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summary: when you tell your mom the little white lie that you have a boyfriend, you don’t expect it to evolve into bringing your friend with benefits home for christmas. what can go wrong?
tags: fluff, smut (minors dni), fwb, fake dating, college!au warnings: ok the smut is likes less than 2k words of this fic tbh, conversations about birth control, mention of unsafe sex, explicit sex, oral, fingering, praise, cum eating, creampies wc: 12.7k an: guys im not used to writing jeonghan so if his characterization is off im so sorry fdsak anyways writing this made me want to go ice skating :((
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“Sweetie! I’m so excited for you to come home for Christmas!” Your mom calls over the phone.
“Yeah Mom, me too,” you say with half sincerity.
“Oh and make sure you bring that cute boyfriend with you too! I want to meet him, you’ve told me almost nothing about him!”
You pause. Boyfriend? Boyfriend.
Oh shit.
“Hey Mom?” It was the end of summer and you were about to go back to university.
“Yes sweetie?” Your mom was bustling around the kitchen getting ready for dinner.
“Do you think that I could go on birth control?” These worlds made your mother stop.
“Birth control? Why do you need to go on birth control? I know your cycle is normal, so who are you having sex with? Oh please don’t tell me you’re sleeping around,” your mom huffed exasperatedly.
“I’m not!” Technically you weren’t sleeping around. You were sleeping with one person, repeatedly. “I have a boyfriend Mom, and we use protection, but it would be nice to have an extra layer of protection.” It was…somewhat the truth. You tried to use protection but every once in a while you…didn’t. You’d taken a lot of Plan B lately.
“A boyfriend! Why didn’t you tell me? Tell me all about him!” The problem is…you didn’t have a boyfriend. You had a Jeonghan who periodically fucked you during the school year. You hadn’t seen him all summer but you knew that as soon as the school year started again you guys would start right back up.
“His name is Jeonghan, he’s studying business. We’ve been dating since the beginning of the year.”
“Oh tell me more! I want to know, please. I have to meet him immediately.”
And that’s how you spent the rest of the day making up half-lies about Jeonghan and convincing your mother to let you on birth control.
You honestly forgot you told your mom that lie, and now it’s coming back to bite you in the butt. You hadn’t brought him up to your mom since and now you either have to tell her you guys broke up or you have to convince Jeonghan to spend part of winter break with your family pretending to be your boyfriend. Knowing your mom, the latter will be easier.
“You told your mom WHAT?” You decide to tell Jeonghan after you guys finish having sex.
“I told her…that we’re dating.”
“Why?”
“You came inside me two minutes ago, you really wanna ask why? She would be so upset if she knew I was in a friends with benefits situation but if I tell her I have a boyfriend that I trust and care for, she’ll let me go on birth control.”
“Why did you have to ask her to go on birth control?” Jeonghan asks as you start to get dressed.
“I’m a college student Jeonghan, birth control isn’t free and if I ask my mom I can put it on her insurance. C’mon can you do this one thing for me? My mom is a great cook and it only has to be for a little bit, only one day really!”
“This really means that much to you?”
“Yes.” You’re practically making puppy dog eyes at him now.
“Well, you know, I just so happen to need somewhere to stay during winter break. So…I guess I’ll be staying with you and putting on the best show for your mom. You’re lucky I think you’re cute.”
You just grin at him.
“Sweetie! You’re home! Honey come here, our daughter is home!” Your mom runs out of the house to greet you, scooping you up into a hug. “Oh, oh, is this him?” She glances over your shoulder excitedly to where Jeonghan is standing behind you by the car.
“Mom, this is Jeonghan…my boyfriend.” You have to force the last bit out. 
“Oh he’s so handsome! It’s nice to finally meet you Jeonghan, I’m so happy you’re joining us for the holidays.”
“Thank you for allowing me to stay with you.” Jeonghan accepts your mom’s hug.
“Of course! You’ve been dating my daughter for almost a year now, anything you need we’ll be here.”
“Is that them?” A booming voice comes from the house. You look over to see your dad and brother standing on the porch.
“Honey, come meet Jeonghan! Look how handsome he is!”
You sigh, it’s already going to be a long four weeks.
“I’m…sorry about them,” you tell Jeonghan when you’re finally alone in your room, where your mother insisted Jeonghan stay with you. For someone who disapproves of casual sex, she sure does support ‘healthy love making between couples’. You don’t even want to think about her and your dad.
“I can’t say you didn’t warn me,” Jeonghan chuckles. “They all seem really nice though.”
“They’re…something,” you mutter. “I hope you don’t mind sharing a bed. Once again I’m really sorry about my mom.”
“It’s fine, I’m serious, stop stressing out. It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before,” he jokes. 
You roll your eyes. “That reminds me. We have to lay down some ground rules.”
“Ground rules?” Jeonghan cocks an eyebrow curiously, and a bit skeptical. 
“Yes. I know it sounds silly and cliche, but really, we need to talk about it.”
“I don’t know what the big deal is. We just have to pretend to be a couple, that’s not hard. Hugging, kissing, all that gooey stuff.”
“What if my parents ask about our relationship? Are you sure you’re okay being coupley with me all the time? I-”
“Babe,” Jeonghan starts, “stop worrying. You make it seem like you have zero faith in me. Trust me, I can be the best fake-boyfriend you’ll ever need.” You scrunch your nose up at him calling you ‘babe’ in a non-sexual setting, but you guess you’ll have to get used to it.
“Still…if you even want to back out, just tell me and we can make up some excuse for you having to leave or-”
Jeonghan cuts you off once more, “Stop worrying. It’s the holiday season, let’s have fun! If your parents ask about our relationship just leave it to me.”
You stare at Jeonghan unsure, all too familiar with his antics. You can tell Jeonghan is about to counter your look when all of a sudden your door is flung open.
“Mom said dinner is ready!” Your brother announces.
You admit defeat on having this conversation with Jeonghan, leading him downstairs to where everyone is taking their place around the dinner table. The table feels just slightly cramped with the addition of the chair added for Jeonghan squeezed in next to yours. The top of dinner is quiet besides a few “could you pass the salt” or “this tastes great Mom” thrown in. It isn’t until your dad is going in for seconds when your mom speaks up.
“So, Jeonghan, tell me about yourself. Pumpkin has barely told us anything about you.” 
You internally groan at the childhood nickname your family still insists on using for you, and you hope it goes unnoticed by Jeonghan. Unfortunately, not much slips past him.
“Pumpkin?”
“A terrible nickname from when I was little,” you explain, slightly glaring at your mother.
“I think it’s cute.” You so desperately want to smack the smug look off Jeonghan’s face.
“It is cute,” your mom interjects. “It’s based on these adorable photos we took during her first fall. We did a photoshoot and put her in a pumpkin, it was just darling. Remind me later and I’ll pull out the photobooks.” Your mom winks at Jeonghan and you’re starting to realize just how big of a mistake this was. “Now, back to what I was saying. Tell me about yourself, Jeonghan.”
“Well there’s not much to say. I’m a business major, I enjoy sports and spending time with my friends.”
“He’s an amazing singer,” you jut in. You’re not sure why. Maybe it’s because Jeonghan is selling himself short. “He’s a part of the University’s choir. And he models for the fashion students.” You can see Jeonghan blush under your praise.
“Aw, that’s nice. And how did you two meet?”
“We met through a mutual friend, and then ended up having a class together the following semester. First time we met I thought she was the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I’m just lucky she gave me the time of day.” Jeonghan makes a show of grabbing your hand in his, clasping them together on the table. Even though you know it’s for show, the display makes your stomach flip a bit.
You do take note that his story is true for the most part. At least the part about you two meeting and then sharing a class. You’re pretty sure the part about you being “the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen” is just fluff to appease your mom. It does the trick though, as your mom coos at Jeonghan’s words.
She continues to ask Jeonghan questions about himself and your relationship, and Jeonghan keeps delivering. He tells her stories about him attempting to flirt with you and you being too oblivious to realize. You roll your eyes the whole time, knowing what he’s actually talking about. The three weeks he spent continuously trying to hit on you before you finally agreed to go on a date with him. 
Speaking of the date, Jeonghan also tells that story. In real life what happened with Jeonghan invited you over to watch a movie, you both got a little tipsy, and ended up fucking right on his couch. Neither of you asked for a second date, but did start to booty call each other, so that’s something. The way Jeonghan tells it to your mom is a lot more…wholesome.
“We went out to see a movie, her choice of course.” Lie, Jeonghan forced you to watch The Notebook. “Then afterwards I didn’t want the date to end so we got dessert and went back to my apartment. We spent the whole night talking before she eventually fell asleep on my couch. It was adorable.”
“Oh stop,” you mutter, trying your best to sound playful.
“It’s true. The way your nose twitches when you’re dreaming and the little huffs you let out. How can I find that as anything but the cutest thing ever?” Jeonghan then leans in and presses a quick kiss to your warm cheeks.
You’re aware you do those things in your sleep, it’s something you’ve done ever since you were little, but you weren’t aware that Jeonghan knew about them. Everytime you sleep over at Jeonghan’s, or he spends the night at yours, he always complains in the morning about how you elbowed him in your sleep all night. 
“Oh you two are just so cute!” Your mom exclaims. She then turns to you, “How dare you keep him away from us for so long.”
Your brother is obviously doesn't care for the topic of conversation and excuses himself from the table. Your mom realizes that dinner is now officially over and she and your father start to clean up the table.
“Don’t go far, Jeonghan. I need to show you those baby pictures!”
“Noooo.” You tug on Jeonghan’s sleeve, like it might somehow convince him to go back upstairs with you, but of course not. Of course Jeonghan wants to see all of your baby photos.
You know this shouldn’t really bother you this much. Everyone has baby photos. The issue is you were an extremely unphotogenic baby. Your brother has maybe some of the cutest baby photos you’ve ever seen. Not you. You look like a gremlin, to the point your baby photos became a meme between you and your friends in high school.
Your mom makes a pot of coffee for all of you before she’s shuffling into the living room and pulling out the large fifty page photo album of you from newborn to age four. Jeonghan follows suit and you reluctantly take your place next to him on the couch. 
The first few pages aren’t bad. They’re all photos of you still in the hospital when you were first being held by your mom and dad, swaddled in a cute little pink blanket that you know your mom has stored somewhere up in the attic. 
The first bad photo doesn’t show up until a few pages in, after you were brought home. It’s a photo of you crying, your face all scrunched up in an ugly expression. You think it’s hideous but it’s one of your dad’s favorite baby photos of you. Jeonghan chuckles slightly and you shove him lightly.
Shortly after that the infamous pumpkin photo shows up. It’s you sitting in a pumpkin, a stupid, blank look on your face as you chew on the pumpkin. There’s a little orange beanie on your head that’s just a little too big for your head.
“Aww, look at that little pumpkin,” Jeonghan giggles.
“Shut up,” you grumble, glaring down at the picture.
Unfortunately for you, it only gets worse from there. There’s the photos from when you were two years old and constantly had messy hair and a stupid expression on your face. And then the photos of you at three when all you would do was pout at the camera. Then the photos from when you were four and somehow every photo was taken at just the wrong second.
Your mother and Jeonghan have a great time, cooing at each photo, your mother giving an anecdote every once in a while. It isn’t until near the end that Jeonghan finally looks over at you, on his other side. He smiles at the slight pout on your face.
“C’mon babe, stop pouting.” Jeonghan scoots closer to you, sliding his arm around your waist and pulling you into him. Even if it’s just for show, you can’t help but admit it is slightly comforting. Jeonghan then leans in and whispers to you. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about. You really are the cutest little baby. I mean that’s not a surprise, you’re still cute, aren’t you baby?”
Your face heats up at his words. You’re not sure why he’s laying it on so thick when you’re sure your mom can’t even hear him. You suddenly stand, trying to subtly get distance between you and your fake boyfriend.
“Well, it’s getting late and I’m tired after all of that traveling today. We’ll see you in the morning Mom.”
Jeonghan finally allows you to pull him back upstairs and into your room. You let out a deep sigh as soon as the door is closed and you move to start getting ready for bed.
“Are you okay?” Jeonghan asks you as he changes into his pajamas as well. “I didn’t make you uncomfortable or cross any boundaries did I?”
“No, no, you’re fine,” you assure him. “You’re just doing what any boyfriend would, so keep it up, actually.”
“Okay…” Jeonghan says, the skepticism in his voice. You don’t say anything else though and Jeonghan drops it, thankfully.
You both crawl into bed and you try not to think about how you can feel his body so close to yours. As you close your eyes you can’t help but think you’re not sure how you’re going to make it through the rest of the break.
“We’re going Christmas tree shopping today!” Your mom announces cheerfully when you and Jeonghan make your way downstairs for breakfast. 
“You guys haven’t gotten a tree yet?” You ask.
“We were waiting for you,” your mom explains. “So we could go as a family and then decorate it together.”
After breakfast your whole family piles into your dad’s car and you take off to the Christmas tree lot. There’s Christmas music playing on the radio as you drive and you can hear Jeonghan softly sing along.
You’ve always liked Jeonghan’s voice. You find his high, light voice angelic and you could listen to him sing all the time. You tune out the chatter of your parents in favor of listening to Jeonghan the whole ride there. A part of you is glad that only you can hear him, taking this as a moment for yourself. 
As soon as the car parks and you all climb out of the car, Jeonghan reaches over and grabs your hand in his. You look over at him to see him smiling at you and you smile back. There’s a bite in the air as you two walk through the trees and you appreciate the warmth of Jeonghan’s hand in yours.
“Oh, what a darling couple,” you hear an old couple whisper as they walk past you two. 
“Hear that? We look darling together, darling” Jeonghan jokes after they’re out of earshot. You roll your eyes but there’s a smile on your face as you playfully knock your elbow into Jeonghan’s side.
You and Jeonghan continue to walk around, looking at trees, until your father finds you two to tell you that your bother found the perfect tree. Your brother is bouncing around when you three make your way to the tree and he looks at you and Jeonghan proudly.
“Good choice, little man,” you tell him.
“Yeah, looks like a great tree,” Jeonghan agrees, which makes your brother smile even more.
Your family is standing in line to pay for the tree when your mom gasps. You look over at her to see her giddy face as she points up. You glance up to see the sprig of mistletoe places directly over you and Jeonghan’s heads.
“Well look at that,” Jeonghan says amused. “It looks like we have to kiss. By the laws of Christmas of course.”
“By the laws of Christmas?”
“Of course. I don’t want to end up on Santa’s naughty list,” Jeonghan teases you. You shake your head, smiling.
“If you say so.” You lean in and press a kiss to Jeonghan’s lips.
You’ve never actually kissed him outside of having sex, but it comes surprisingly natural to you. Jeonghan wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in closer for just a moment, before pulling away. The tip of his nose and ears are pink and there’s a slight twinkle in his eye and he grins at you.
“You have cooties now,” your little brother announces from beside you and you and Jeonghan both burst out laughing. 
On the ride back home, your whole family sings along to the radio, and your mother compliments Jeonghan’s voice, which makes him flustered.
After you get back home, your dad and Jeonghan struggle to get the tree to fit through the door as you and your mom snicker at them. After they finally get it into the living room, you, Jeonghan, and your brother get to work decorating it. When your brother asks why your parents aren’t helping, your dad says he did all the work by paying for it.
The three of you (mostly you and Jeonghan) spend way too much time untangling lights before you string them up, finally allowing you to get to the good part. Your family’s ornaments are stored in a large plastic tub and you get to work digging through them. You’re not sure how many your family owns, but you’re sure it’s enough to cover three trees in whole. The tub isn’t organized in any way and you do your best to pick and choose which ones you think will make the best decorations.
Jeonghan kneels down beside you and starts to look through the tub as well.
“These ornaments are cute,” Jeonghan comments as he picks up a small stuffed animal snowman with a loop attached to it. He reaches over to place it on the tree.
“Yeah, it’s a part of my grandparents’ gift to us every year. An ornament for both of us.” You pick up a decoration with a family picture on it and you hang it up.
“You were so small in that one,” Jeonghan says, referencing the picture you just added to the tree.
You glance over the photo. You’re maybe five or six, way before your brother was born. You’re squished between your parents on a bench with Christmas lights behind you. You’re bundled up in a puffy winter jacket and a hat is squashed into your head. It’s a sweet photo.
“You know, this is all quite unfair,” you tell him. “You’re going to have to show me your childhood photos at some point now.”
“Now I don’t know if that was part of the deal.”
“Well we might just have to make it so. I’d love to see tiny little Hannie.”
“Maybe I could strike up a deal…”
You’re about to make a comment on Jeonghan’s sneaky ways, when you feel a tap on your leg. You look down to see your brother standing next to you with a sled shaped ornament in his hand.
“I need help putting this on the tree.”
“I got you buddy.” Jeonghan moves over to pick your brother up, lifting him up so your brother can place the ornament on the tree.
The moment is oddly sweet and when Jeonghan lets him down, he gives your brother a high five after. Jeonghan walks back over to the tub before picking up an ornament. After closer inspection you realize that it’s the ornament shaped like a little bunny with a fluffy cotton tail and a pink scarf. You quickly lunge forward and snatch it out of his hands.
“Aish!”
“Sorry!” You exclaim, holding onto the ornament. “But you can’t place this on the tree.”
“Why not?”
“Because…,” you hesitate, suddenly embarrassed. 
“That’s her favorite, she has to place it on the tree every year. In its special spot,” you mom answers as she walks into the room, carrying a tray of cookies. 
Jeonghan just chuckles before leaning in to wrap his arms around your waist and kissing your cheek. You flush, trying not to think too much of it. It’s just because your mom is standing in the room. “That’s so cute. In its ‘special spot’?”
“Yes,” you mumble. You move out of Jeonghan’s grip to lift the ornament and place it at the top of the tree, right under where the star sits. The idea is more embarrassing now that Jeonghan is staring at you, the smug little grin on his face, but you can’t ignore tradition just because you know he’s going to make fun of you later.
“Are there any more special ornaments I should know about, darling?” Jeonghan asks and you smack him lightly, both for the comment and the teasing nickname he’s picked up.
“No. Decorate at your free will.”
Your brother is now more interested in the cookies your mom brought in, leaving you and Jeonghan to finish the tree off. It’s weighted down by all of the ornaments you’ve hung on it by the end. You reach down into the box to grab the tree topper.
“All that’s left is the star,” you announce.
“Jeonghan should put it on,” your mom suggests and you hold it out to him.
“Oh no, I couldn’t.”
“We insist,” your mom tells him. 
“C’mon Han, just do it, make her happy.” You nudge him a bit and Jeonghan finally takes it before reaching up on his tiptoes to place the star on top. You and your mom cheer and you can see the small smile on Jeonghan’s face.
With the finishing touch on the tree, you’re able to step back and look at your masterpiece.
“I think we did a pretty good job,” you say.
“I think we did the best job, and I should know. I’m a tree decorating veteran.” Jeonghan wraps an arm around your waist. You glance up at him, only to be surprised by him pecking you on the lips. You don’t even have time to react, the kiss smooth like you two do it all the time.
Jeonghan doesn’t bat an eye, turning back to stare at the tree. You feel your stomach flutter.
So here’s the thing. It’s not like you wouldn’t date Jeonghan, he’s a great guy, a close friend, but you two just never evolved into that part of your relationship. The issue when you’re hooking up with someone is that it’s intimate. You’ve spent the night at each other’s apartments, you share the same friends, you have strangely deep pillow talk with one another. It’s all under the same impression that you’re just friends with benefits, but now you’re here, in your childhood home, pretending to be a couple. The circumstances are completely different and now you don’t know how to feel.
All you know is that Jeonghan keeps kissing you with no sexual undertones under it, and maybe you like it a little too much.
When you wake up the next morning, Jeonghan is already awake on his phone. He looks over at you and snickers before turning his phone towards you. On his screen is a photo of you asleep, your mouth wide open and a bit of drool running down your cheek.
“Delete that!” You shout, suddenly wide awake. Jeonghan giggles as he stands up and runs out of the room. You chase after him, yelling at him, until you two make it to the kitchen.
“Well! You two are lively this morning,” your mom comments. She’s standing at the stove cooking breakfast with a fond grin on her face.
“Good morning!” Jeonghan says, a smug smile on his face as he slips his phone into his pocket. “That smells great. Do you need any help?” Jeonghan gestures to the plates sitting on the counter, waiting to be put out.
“Oh honey, no, no, you go sit. You’re a guest.” 
“Are you sure?” Jeonghan asks and your mom nods.
“Of course. Pumpkin, you can help me.”
Jeonghan moves to the dining table while your mom moves closer to you, a giddy look on her face, as she hands you the plates. 
“Pumpkin, you’ve really found yourself a keeper,” she whispers to you. “Jeonghan is such a sweet young man.”
“Uh, yeah mom, thanks,” you mutter.
It’s not like you don’t know Jeonghan’s a great guy, but the truth is you two aren’t dating. It’s not like you can tell your mom that, but you don’t know how long you’ll be able to keep up the lie after you two leave after break. It was easy when he was just a random name you threw out, but now your mom has actually met him, and he’s doing a little too well at charming her.
And maybe you too. It’s only been two days of pretending to fake date Jeonghan and somehow you’re already questioning your whole relationship with him. You don’t know if your heart will take fake dating him for any longer than you have to.
You and your mom head towards the table where Jeonghan sits next to your brother, looking invested in whatever your brother is talking about. You take your seat on the other side of Jeonghan as your mother sits across from you.
“So, any plans you two have for today?”
“Uhm, not at the moment,” you reply.
“You two should go ice skating! A new place opened downtown. I’m sure all the cute young couples are going there.”
You perk up at the idea. Ice skating has always been a fun winter tradition for you and now you have a reason to go. Right as the sun is starting to set, you and Jeonghan take off downtown. The city is dressed up in lights and it excites the child inside of you.
“Isn’t it pretty?” You ask Jeonghan as you walk down the street.
“Isn't what pretty?”
“The lights. Look at them. It really gets me in the Christmas mood,” you say. 
“Oh, yeah. They do look nice. Oh, there’s the skating rink.”
The rink is large and already filled with several people from other couples to families to people just skating solo. There are lights surrounding the rink and you can hear Christmas music playing out of speakers nearby.
You and Jeonghan go and rent your skates before putting them on and heading towards the ice. You slide onto the rink first and then wait for Jeonghan to follow. You watch as he steps out on the ice and moves to push himself forward, only to fall directly on his ass.
You stifle a laugh before reaching down to help him up. As soon as he’s back up Jeonghan moves over to hold onto the wall.
“Is this a bad time to tell you that I’m not very good at ice skating.”
You actually allow yourself to laugh out loud this time. “Why did you agree to come?”
“I don’t know, your mom seemed so excited about it and so did you.”
You smile before skating up to Jeonghan’s side. “That’s sweet of you Han, but we don’t have to continue if you don’t want to. We can just walk around downtown and look at the lights.”
“No, I want to do this,” Jeonghan states, determined.
“Okay, okay. At least let me help you out.” You move your hand to grasp Jeonghan’s and you start to move. Jeonghan gently lets go of the wall to follow you, his grip on your hand tight.
You skate effortlessly, trying not to giggle as Jeonghan does his best not to fall and pull you down with him. You’re skating much slower than you’re used to as Jeonghan clings to your arm.
“How are you so good at this,” Jeonghan whines as you two stop to take a break.
“Ice skating is a family tradition for me. Don’t worry, you look cute.” You reach up to straighten the fluffy hat on his head.
The moment feels oddly intimate, which is an interesting feeling considering you two have seen each other naked. It almost feels like you two are an actual couple, out on a cute Christmas-y date.
If you’re being honest, Christmas has always been your favorite holiday. You love the whole season and the feeling of family and joy and love. When you were little you always dreamed of having a great Christmas romance, and now you have it, it’s just…fake.
You look at Jeonghan to see the soft pink dusting his face and ears and you wonder if it’s because of the cold or if he’s thinking the same thing you are.
“Aww, you two are so cute.” The moment is broken and you look to the side to see an older couple skating up to you two. “Would you like us to take your photo?”
“Oh, um, sure!” You reply, pulling your phone out to hand to them. Your mom did tell you to take lots of photos.
You skate back over to Jeonghan and position yourself next to him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. You two lean into each other, smiling at the camera. After that photo is taken you lean in to press a kiss to Jeonghan’s cheek.
The couple then returns your phone and bids you a goodbye. You flip through the photos and Jeonghan peeks over your shoulder at them.
“You should send those to me.”
You look at him curiously. In all the time you’ve known Jeonghan, you’ve never known him to care much about having photos of you two together, even as just friends, but you shoot them over to his number anyway. You then grab his hand again and continue to skate.
Even with Jeonghan’s poor skating skills, you two still have fun. The Christmas music sets the mood as you two skate around the rink and you can hear Jeonghan humming along as you skate. The moment is nice.
You two skate for about an hour before Jeonghan’s feet start to hurt and you two decide to put the skates up and pop into a nearby cafe to grab some hot chocolate before exploring downtown more. There is a tree put in the center of the plaza and you and Jeonghan take a few more photos to show your mom.
In the midst of hooking up with Jeonghan, sometimes it’s hard to remember you two are friends as well. You’re a bit glad for this whole fake dating thing, because it gives you a chance to hang out with Jeonghan in a non-sexual manner. It reminds you of how much you like Jeonghan as just a person and how you enjoy spending time with him. It’s really nice.
It’s late into the night when you two finally head back to your house. The lights are already all off and you and Jeonghan creep up to your room quietly, as to not wake up anyone else. You two quietly change into your pajamas before crawling into your bed.
There’s a slight chill in the room and you slide over to Jeonghan to try and get warmer. He accepts you into his arms and you two lay there in silence for a moment before he begins to speak.
“You know, I wasn’t sure about this at first, but I’ve been having a lot of fun. Your family’s great.”
“Yeah…they are. Thanks for doing this for me by the way.”
“I mean, it benefits me too, right,” Jeonghan chuckles.
Right. The reason you’re doing this in the first place: the birth control.
It’s weird to think about now that you’re here. Jeonghan has seemed to blend into your family so well, you nearly forgot the reason this started to begin with.
“Hey, are you okay?” Jeonghan asks.
“What? Oh yeah. I’m just…tired. I think I should try to sleep.”
“Yeah, okay…goodnight.”
When you wake up, Jeonghan is still asleep next to you, and you glance at the clock to see it’s strangely early. It’s then that you hear the tapping on your door and you stand up to crack it open. Your mom is standing on the other side of the door with a paper in her hand.
“Sweetie, sorry to wake you up, but I need you to do me a favor today.”
“What is it Mom? Is everything okay?”
“Oh yes, nothing wrong, but I need you to go out and buy these things for me.” She passes you the list and you scan over it before shooting your mom a look.
“You haven’t gotten the presents yet?” You hiss. “Christmas is in like four days!”
“I know! Me and your father haven’t had time to go with your brother around. Please? Here’s my card.” She passes you her credit card. “You can pick up some gifts for yourself as well. Bring Jeonghan along, get lunch, make a day out of it. Please, Pumpkin?”
“Yeah, sure, Mom. I’ll get it all.”
“Thank you!” Your mom hugs you quickly before leaving. You sigh, staring down at the list. There’s quite a few things on it. The closer you look at it you realize there’s also gifts for your extended family and your father on it. You huff, you have your work cut out for you. At least your mom has marked what store you can find each item.
You walk over to the bed and shake Jeonghan until he wakes up.
“Wha’?”
“Come up, get up. We have a long day of shopping ahead of us and I want to beat the crowds.”
Jeonghan grumbles a bit more but rolls out of bed. You two get dressed before climbing into your car and heading towards the store. You stop at a coffee shop to get both of you take out cups and head to the first store.
Your brother’s Christmas list is mainly toys, which you guess you can expect from a five year old. The toy store is already bustling with people and you grab a cart and Jeonghan’s hand so you don’t lose each other. You make your way through the aisles, doing your best to find everything on the list.
“What about this one?” Jeonghan asks, holding up a green race car. You frown.
“No. He doesn’t like that shade of green, and he already owns three green cars. He wants a purple one…aha! Here it is.” You grab the one on the back of the rack before throwing it into the cart. “Okay. I think there’s toy dinosaurs a few aisles down, and then we should have everything here.”
You two continue through the store before you find the aisle full of different dinosaur themed toys. You pick up a book for you to gift your little brother yourself and then look over the toys.
“He already owns a t-rex, a stegosaurus, and a triceratops,” you mutter more to yourself than Jeonghan. You glance through the toys before landing on a dinosaur with a long neck. “Brachiosaurus, perfect.”
You place this in the cart as well and then turn to Jeonghan, who is smiling at you. “You’re a good big sister, you know that?”
“I’m just doing what my mom asked me,” you tell him as you push the cart towards the check out.
“No I mean, you pay attention to him. You know what toys he already owns and what colors he likes. It’s sweet.”
You brush Jeonghan off again, but the words cause a warm feeling to bloom in your stomach. You two stand in the check out line for what feels like forever before you’re able to leave. As you two are walking to the car you look over at Jeonghan and realize he deserves something for Christmas as well. He’s spending the whole break with you and your family, it’s the least you can do.
“Oh shit, I forgot something. Here, take the car keys, I’ll be back in a flash, I promise.” You hand him the keys before running back into the store before Jeonghan can protest.
You weave through the people before making it to the Lego aisle. You’ve seen all of the models inside his apartment, and you figure this will be a good gift for him. You search through the different kits to find the best one, before settling on the electric guitar set. You’ve seen him play the bass a couple of times, and you hope Jeonghan will still appreciate the thought.
The line is a bit shorter this time and you make sure the box is well hidden in the bag before making your way back to the car. You store the bag in the back before slipping into the driver’s seat.
“You got everything you need?” Jeonghan asks and you smile and nod.
“Yep! On to the next place.” 
The next store is less exciting than being in a toy store and it seems to be even busier. You and Jeonghan hold hands once more as you walk through the store. His humming to the Christmas music on the speakers calms you a bit, and you allow yourself to enjoy the Christmas spirit more.
You and Jeonghan make it through the store, and another one before you decide it’s time for a lunch break. You two find a cute Italian place to sit down and rest your feet. You’re waiting for your food to arrive when your phone dings and you see an Instagram notification. You open your phone to see Jeonghan has tagged you in a post.
The first photo is the two of you at the skating rink, your arms wrapped around each other. There are a few more photos. A photo of you holding your hot chocolate while looking at the lights. The selfie you two took in front of the tree in the plaza. The final photo is a photo of you putting an ornament on your own tree at home. The post is captioned Christmas 🎄🎁☕.
“Our friends are going to think we’re crazy,” you tell Jeonghan. In theory, your friends know you and Jeonghan are sleeping together, but you’ve never explicitly said it, and they most definitely don’t know that Jeonghan is spending Christmas at your house.
“So? Let them. Those are cute photos.” You can’t argue with that and you drop a like and repost it to your story.
When you finish up lunch there’s one more store you two have to hit. There are only a few odd and end items left and you can’t wait to get home. You and Jeonghan are looking at sweaters when you feel someone bump into you and you lurch forward a bit.
“Watch it,” the man growls.
“Hey!” Jeonghan shouts, wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you.
“What?” The man turns back around.
“You bumped into my girlfriend.” Despite this not being the moment to get flustered, hearing Jeonghan call you his girlfriend even without your family around sends butterflies into your tummy.
The man and Jeonghan have a stare down for a moment before the man huffs out a pathetic “sorry” before walking off. 
“Thanks Han,” you say before you place a soft kiss on his cheek.
“Well, some people just belong on the naughty-list,” he says, which makes you chuckle.
By late afternoon you two finally finish shopping and you get a text from your mom that tells you she’s taken your little brother to the grocery store so you and Jeonghan have time to get the gifts in the house without him seeing. You and Jeonghan quickly bring everything to your room before closing the door. You make sure to slip the present for Jeonghan under your bed before he notices and you then turn to him.
“Want to help me wrap these presents?”
“Of course.”
You and Jeonghan sit on the floor of your room, where Jeonghan soon finds out you’re awful at wrapping gifts.
“It’s so easy. It’s just folds and tape,” Jeonghan says as he places a piece of tape on the most perfectly wrapped present you’ve ever seen.
“Oh shush. I usually use gift bags okay? And now I have you, so you can wrap all of the presents from Santa, and I can do the rest,” you declare as you scribble a To: Mom onto the present you finished wrapping.
“Fine, but only because you’re the worst gift wrapping elf I’ve ever seen.”
Though you know it’s meant as an insult, you can’t help but smile at the cuteness of his sentence. You’re also just happy you don’t have to wrap more gifts than necessary.
It’s late when you wake up the next morning, due to the fact you went to bed late last night. You and Jeonghan stayed up to finish wrapping presents and then you two got onto talking about family Christmas tradition and before you knew it, it was two am. 
The bed is chilly and when you sit up to look, the other side of the bed is empty. You wrap a blanket around you and head downstairs to see Jeonghan and your mom sitting at the table talking. When you look out the window it’s a world of white and you start to feel giddy.
“It snowed!” You exclaim. “Hannie, we have to go play in it!”
You know it’s childish, but you can’t help it. You quickly get dressed and put on your winter coat and gloves before heading outside. A few minutes later, Jeonghan exits the house as well, your brother in tow. You search through your garage before you find your sleds and the three of you take a short walk to the park down the street. There’s a big hill next to it and you all take turns riding down it.
“C’mon, ride down together with me.” Jeonghan pats the space in between his legs on the sled and you climb on.
Jeonghan pushes off and then wraps his arms around your waist as you two go speeding down the hill. You can feel the snow fly back into your face and your sled goes tilting before you and Jeonghan are completely thrown off. You two land in a heap together and you both start giggling. You roll over in the snow and start to make a snow angel and Jeonghan does the same.
When you stand up and assess your work, you pull out your phone to snap a photo of the two angels next to each other. You’re just putting your phone away when you feel something cold and hard pelt you in the leg. You look over to see Jeonghan with a mischievous grin on his face, already aiming his next snow ball.
You quickly bend down to grab snow and form your own ammo, while also trying to dodge the onslaught of Jeonghan’s. You two go back and forth, throwing snow at each other, before Jeonghan finally ambushes you and grabs you by the waist and tackles you down into the snow.
You two are breathing heavily as Jeonghan hovers over you. There’s a twinkle in his eye and snow in his hair and you think that this might be the prettiest you’ve ever seen Jeonghan. You’re not sure what comes over you, but you reach up and grab him by the collar of his jacket, pulling him down to connect your lips to his.
Jeonghan melts into you, kissing you back. You two lay there in the snow, kissing, until you hear commotion next to you.
“Ewww.” You both pull apart to see your little brother standing over you two. You and Jeonghan both blush and Jeonghan climbs off of you before helping you up. “I’m getting cold, can we go back home now?”
Neither you nor Jeonghan make eye contact as you grab the sleds. Jeonghan gives your brother a piggyback on the way home when you get inside your brother pulls Jeonghan off to go play video games together. You’re grateful for the break, still a bit flustered from your intense kiss earlier.
You’re luckily able to ignore the boy for the most part for the rest of the day, until it’s time to go to bed. You and Jeonghan shuffle around each other awkwardly until you decide to finally bite the bullet.
“Hey, about the kiss earlier, I’m sorry. I-”
“No, it’s okay!” Jeonghan cuts you off. “Don’t worry I uh…I liked it.”
“O-oh, okay,” you mumble.
Neither of you say anything else as you two climb into bed. You’re not sure if you should move closer to Jeonghan until he reaches over to tug you towards him. You slot yourself into his arms, and you hope he can’t feel your heart beating a million beats per second.
You’re glad you didn’t make anything weird with Jeonghan, but now you’re afraid you may have made things a lot more complicated for yourself.
“You two are on cookie duty,” your mom tells you and Jeonghan as she bustles around the kitchen. She’s been stressed since you two woke up. You suppose that’s fair when it’s Christmas Eve, and it gives you a good reason to not think about you and Jeonghan.
“Can I help? I want to make cookies for Santa!” Your little brother exclaims.
“If you want to, buddy,” you tell him.
“Yay!”
“There’s a recipe book in the cupboard, and I should have picked up all of the ingredients the other day,” your mother continues.
“We’ve got it Mom, no stressing, okay?”
“Okay. Thank you Pumpkin.” Your mom kisses your cheek before running off to finish errands.
You clap your hands together. “Let’s get to baking.”
There’s several cookies your mom has requested you to make and you get to work on the dough for the chocolate chip cookies, while Jeonghan works on the sugar cookies. The chocolate chip cookies are fairly easy and you’re able to pop them into the oven while Jeonghan and your brother are cutting out shapes into the sugar cookies.
“This one is shaped as a snowflake,” your brother explains to Jeonghan as he stamps the dough.
“Ah, I see,” Jeonghan says and you grin. You work around them as you grab the flour to start making gingerbread.
Right as you’re walking past Jeonghan, he spins around, running into you and getting a cloud of flour all over both of you. You can hear your little brother giggling as Jeonghan huffs a laugh.
“You know, darling, this is pretty cliche,” Jeonghan says, still grinning.
“It would only be cliche if I smear frosting on the tip of your nose,” you tell him, continuing to walk past. “But, don’t count that out yet.” 
By the afternoon the house is warm and filled with the sweet scent of baked goods. The cookies are cooled and all three of you have already sneaked one or two for yourselves as you sit down to decorate. Your brother has been given the task of frosting the sugar cookies for Santa, while you and Jeonghan get to work building a gingerbread house.
“Look, not to brag, but I’ve come in second place every year for my family’s gingerbread house contest.”
“Second place? Why not first?” You snicker.
“Because my cousin is an architect, okay. It’s called an unfair advantage.”
You giggle once more. “If you say so, Hannie. Here, you can make the shingles with these.”
The two of you work in harmony, decorating the little house with all of the candy. When the house is finished you two move onto making the little gingerbread man.
“Look at little Hannie,” Jeonghan says, holding up the gingerbread man he just made. It’s decorated to look like Jeonghan, even done with his signature smirk.
“Very cute,” you tell him. “But your hair isn’t that long anymore.” You reach over and swipe some of the icing used to make his hair off of the cookie before reaching up to smear it on Jeonghan’s nose.
“Oh I see,” Jeonghan hums, doing his best to keep the grin off his face.
“I told you, don’t count it out yet.”
Before you can even stop him, Jeonghan is dipping into the bowl of frosting and swiping a streak over your cheek. You squeal as Jeonghan grins proudly. 
“There, now we’re even.” You fake pout at Jeonghan slightly and he playfully rolls his eyes before leaning in and kissing your cheek, right over the icing. When he pulls away, he’s licking his lips. “I’m sorry, but revenge just tastes so sweet, darling.”
It’s your turn to playfully roll your eyes now, not at all upset with Jeonghan’s antics.
You finish up your gingerbread self as well and place it next to Jeonghan’s in front of the house. Jeonghan pushes his towards yours even more, so their hands touch. “Look, they’re now holding hands.” 
“You’re so stupid,” you tell him, but you’re smiling.
“You like that I’m stupid,” Jeonghan teases.
“Maybe…but only a little bit,” you say, but it’s enough to make Jeonghan grin from ear to ear.
It's a Christmas tradition in your house to spend Christmas Eve watching everyone’s favorite Christmas movies, and this year your brother is actually able to make a suggestion. 
“Jeonghan, sweetie, you get to suggest a movie as well,” your mother tells him as she readies the hot chocolate.
“Really? I wouldn’t want to impose?”
“You should know by now you’re not imposing, and if anything, it’s Christmas Eve, you deserve to have some cheer as well. It will be nice to have something new in the lineup of movies.”
Your mom starts to pour the hot chocolate into mugs before sliding the reindeer shaped mug towards your brother. It’s his favorite cup to use, even when it’s not the Christmas season, though it was originally gifted to you.
“No Mom, let Jeonghan have it.” Your brother declares as he pushes the mug towards Jeonghan.
“For me? Thank you!”
You lean in towards Jeonghan. “He must really like you. He doesn’t even let me use that mug, and it belongs to me.”
After the hot chocolate and cookies have been passed out to everyone (and your brother has set some out for Santa), you all move into the living room. Your parents sit in their chairs and your little brother places himself on the floor right in front of the TV. You and Jeonghan move over to the couch where you naturally slot yourself into his arms, you two cuddling up together as you throw a blanket over your laps.
The first movie of the night is your brother’s choice, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. It’s a classic and you can’t be mad at the choice. The whole time Jeonghan keeps making jokes only loud enough for you to hear and you keep giggling, causing your brother to glare at you, causing you to elbow Jeonghan in his side.
“You better not distract me when we’re watching my movie,” you warn Jeonghan.
Jeonghan throws his hands up in fake surrender. “Oh darling I wouldn’t dare.”
Your favorite Christmas movie is A Charlie Brown Christmas and you make your family watch it every year. For you, it never gets old, and you watch it with what can only be described as stars in your eyes. You know Jeonghan finds it amusing, but you can’t help your love for all things Peanuts and something about that silly little Christmas tree brings you joy.
Instead of your parents choosing a movie, Jeonghan gets to choose this year, and you’re thankful you don’t have to watch your dad’s choice, A Christmas Story. Instead Jeonghan chooses the Jim Carey version of The Grinch, which makes you grin wide.
“That’s my second favorite Christmas movie. Did you know that?”
“Nope, I guess we just have great taste, darling.”
“Of course we do. I mean, we’re dating each other,” you flirt and you watch Jeonghan duck his head in embarrassment.
Jeonghan shifts his position so you’re sitting in between his legs, leaning back against him. His arms wrap around your waist as he rests his head on your shoulder. It’s cozy and your heart feels full at the moment.
You know none of it is real, that it’s all fake for something as trivial as birth control, but right now, you so desperately want it to be real. Enough that you’ll let yourself believe it is, even if it’s just for a moment.
It’s late when the movie is finished and your brother is doing his best to keep his eyes open.
“Hey little man, if you don’t go to bed soon, Santa won’t come,” you tell him as you pick him up in your arms.
“B-but Santa has to come,” he mutters in a sleepy voice.
“Well then let us put you to bed.” You carry your brother to his bedroom, Jeonghan following you behind.
“What if I can’t sleep? Is Santa still going to come?”
“I’m sure you’ll be able to sleep, buddy. Do you want us to read you a story?”
“Please?”
“Hey Han, there’s a copy of The Night Before Christmas in my room, could you go grab it?” You ask Jeonghan and he nods. He comes back a few minutes later, holding the book. He settles next to you on the bed and you hold the book open for your little brother to see.
You and Jeonghan take turns narrating the book until your little brother’s eyes droop down and he’s fast asleep. You and Jeonghan quietly sneak out of the room and slip into yours. Due to the presents being hidden in your room, it’s your turn to play Santa.
You and Jeonghan carry the presents to the living room before placing them under the tree. It looks picture perfect when you two are done. You and Jeonghan move over to the plate of cookies set out before both grabbing one and tapping them together.
“Cheers,” Jeonghan says.
“Cheers, to our success at playing Santa.” You both bite into your cookies, making sure to leave crumbs on the plate for your brother to see in the morning. You split the glass of milk, leaving a few drops at the bottom.
“Look.” Jeonghan points up and you catch sight of the spring of mistletoe. Your family has never been ones to do mistletoe and you wonder if your mom put it up this year just because she knew Jeonghan was going to be with you.
You’re surprised you didn’t see it earlier, but to be fair you haven’t been home much the past few days, and even when you have you haven’t been near the fireplace. 
Right then the clock in your house strikes midnight, and you lean in to kiss Jeonghan. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into him, as you cup his face. You two kiss for what you’re sure is much longer than it needs to be before pulling away.
“Merry Christmas, Jeonghan.”
“Merry Christmas, darling.” 
“Santa! Santa, Santa, Santa! Santa was here!” You wake up to screaming and you barely have time to process what is happening when your bedroom door is flung open and there’s a tiny body attacking you and Jeonghan.
“Yeah, buddy, we know,” you mumble as Jeonghan yawns loudly. “We’ll be there in a second.”
“You better be.” With that your brother leaves and you and Jeonghan decide it’ll be best if you two make your way into the living room.
Your parents are both already in the living room, both of them looking tired as well. Your brother is eagerly sitting in front of the tree, inspecting each present as he waits for you and Jeonghan to shuffle over to the couch. Jeonghan sits down and you practically sit on his lap with how close you get to him, cuddling into his side, wishing you were still asleep.
“Merry Christmas! Say hi to the camera,” your dad says as he holds his phone up to record your little brother.
“Hi!” He says while waving enthusiastically. “Merry Christmas! Can I open my presents now?”
Your mom chuckles before telling him to do so.
You watch with half interest as your brother opens his presents, doing your best to wake up. Jeonghan is warm against you, though, and it makes you more sleepy. It isn’t until your brother is almost done opening his presents from Santa that you’re awake.
As soon as your dad has picked up all of the wrapping paper, you move towards the tree to open your own presents. It’s nothing much, as you really only asked for clothes and a few other things for your apartment. The life of a college student.
When you’ve thanked your parents for your presents you hand them their presents from you. You’re satisfied at the giddy your little brother has for the dinosaur book you got him and he gives you a giant hug.
“Pumpkin, what’s that present left under the tree?” Your mom points at the final present under the tree.
“It’s my present for Jeonghan,” you say as you pick it up and hand it to the boy.
“You got me something?” Jeonghan asks you, a bit of awe in his face.
“Of course.” You sit down next to him and press a kiss to his cheek. “I hope you like it.”
Jeonghan rips the wrapping paper off to reveal the Lego set underneath, and Jeonghan gasps. There’s an excited grin on his face as he looks between the box and you.
“You got me this?”
“Yeah, I noticed the sets in your room and thought you’d like this. I know you play the bass but-”
Jeonghan cuts you off by lunging forward and kissing you. You melt into him, reciprocating the kiss. When you pull back, there’s a twinkle in his eye. “Thank you, it’s perfect.”
“Oh, let me take a photo!” Your mom exclaims. “Go stand in front of the tree.”
You know there’s not fighting your mom and you pull Jeonghan over. You press your sides together, smiling at the camera. Your brother wants on as well so you two pick him up and hold him between you two.
“Aww, my babies, you guys look so cute! Okay, now who wants breakfast?”
You’re standing on your back porch, watching the snow fall, when you hear steps approaching. When you turn around you’re not surprised to see Jeonghan approaching you.
“You know, you didn’t have to get me anything for Christmas. Let alone a Lego set.”
You shrug. “I wanted to. You’re doing this for me, and I wanted to give you something to show my appreciation.”
“Well thank you. It means a lot to me.” Jeonghan moves closer to you and wraps his arms around you. You accept his hug, snuggling into his arms. “I’m sorry I didn’t have anything for you.”
“It’s okay. I didn’t expect you to. You just being here is enough.”
Jeonghan pulls away from you slightly, so he can look you in the eyes. You can see him struggling to say what he wants to, before he eventually just spits it out. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
You furrow your eyebrows. “Is everything okay?”
“I…I’ve really enjoyed the past week, and it’s made me realize I need to be honest with you. I really like you, and I have since we first met. We had that first date which ended in us having sex, and when you never brought up a second date I kind of figured you just wanted to keep it on a physical level. I didn’t mind, but I guess I always kind of wanted it to be more,” Jeonghan admits. “And being here, and spending all this time together and not having sex, it kind of made me realize just how much I like you.” 
You can feel your heart beating in your chest as Jeonghan speaks. He likes you. Yoon Jeonghan likes you, and has had a crush on you since you first met. The notion makes your stomach erupt in butterflies.
You stare at him, his cheeks slightly pink from the cold and white snowflakes dotting his black hair. He looks like an angel.
“I understand if you don’t like me back, but I needed to tell you that. I’m not sure what this means for us but-”
It’s now your turn to cut Jeonghan off with a kiss. Your hold on him tightens as you pull him into you and Jeonghan eagerly accepts. He moves his hands to cup the back of your neck, holding you gently as he deepens the kiss. You’re both a little breathless when you pull apart and Jeonghan has a giant smile on his face.
“I like you too. A lot. And being here made me realize I want this to be real, if you do too.”
“Yes. I would love that.”
“Well then, I hate to inform you that I don’t think we can be fake dating anymore, as I have a very real boyfriend.”
“Is that so?”
“Oh yes. And he’s very handsome and talented and a very good kisser.”
“Well it’s a good thing I also have a very real girlfriend, who is also a very good kisser.” Jeonghan’s face gets closer to yours as he talks before he leans in fully at the end, kissing you once more.
“Your father and I are going to go look at Christmas lights with your brother. Would you two like to join?” You mom pokes her head into your bedroom where you and Jeonghan are cuddled up on your bed, watching a movie.
You've been spending the day just enjoying each other's presence. You've also been answering sporadic texts from your friends, asking about you and Jeonghan after your Instagram post earlier.
You posted the photo of you kissing his cheek in the ice rink, the photos your mom took this morning, and a photo of your gingerbread men holding hands, captioned My favorite present this year ♡. Your friends have been hounding you about it since.
You glance at Jeonghan and down at your laptop before turning to your mom.
“I think we’ll just stay here,” you tell her.
She just smiles at you two. “Okay, have fun. We’ll probably be gone for a few hours.” Neither you nor Jeonghan miss the wink she sends you two.
You can hear the garage door open and close as your family leaves and you and Jeonghan both glance at each other. You’re not quite sure what the rules are on how long you should wait to have sex after becoming a couple, but then again, it’s not like you and Jeonghan haven’t fucked before.
“Do you want to-”
“You know just because we-”
You both stop talking when you realize the other one is. You gesture for Jeonghan to continue.
“Just because we’re now officially dating, doesn’t mean we can’t still have sex,” Jeonghan says. “Unless you want to wait.”
“No, I actually was going to ask if you uh, wanted to have sex.” You almost feel awkward, talking about it, like you two haven’t been hooking up on the regular for over a year.
You’re relieved of the uncomfortableness as soon as Jeonghan turns to kiss you. After a week of kissing for show, it’s nice to finally kiss him for yourself. As strange as it might be, it feels nice to kiss Jeonghan like this. Though you’re excited to see where dating Jeonghan takes you, hooking up is how you know him best.
Jeonghan moves your laptop off your laps and climbs on top of you, pressing you into the bed. Though you’re used to sleeping with Jeonghan, there’s still a new air to this. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Jeonghan so eager to fuck you, but you can’t say you’re complaining at all. 
Your lips slide together, deepening the kiss, as Jeonghan’s hand ghosts your waist. You can feel his tongue swipe against your lips right as he starts to push his hand up under your shirt. You gasp when you feel his hand grope your tits and Jeonghan takes that moment to slip his tongue into your mouth.
You whimper as you feel his hand slide under your bra as well, his fingers playing with your nipples. His tongue explores the inside of your mouth and you suck on it slightly before pulling away all together. As you take a moment to catch your breath, Jeonghan moves down to suck at your neck.
“F-fuck, Hannie,” you whine.
“So pretty, darling,” Jeonghan mutters.
You push Jeonghan off of you slightly, so you can remove both your shirt and bra. With your chest now bare, Jeonghan takes the liberty of wrapping his lips around your nipple. He flicks the bud with his tongue, while his hand shows the other one some love. Your body arches up into his touch as you feel your cunt clench down around nothing, desperate to have him inside of you.
Jeonghan must realize this as well, and he pops his mouth off of you. “Want me to touch you, pretty girl?”
“Please,” you beg. You wiggle your hips a bit and Jeonghan chuckles as he hooks his fingers into your waistband and slides both your pajama pants and underwear off in one go. Like he’s on autopilot, Jeonghan reaches down and starts to rub at your clit with two fingers. 
“Fuck, you’re so wet already. Do you want my fingers or my mouth?”
“D-don’t care,” you mutter, already enjoying the pleasure of his fingers pressed against you. “Pick one. Both. Whatever. Just please, don’t stop touching me.”
You gasp a bit when Jeonghan pushes your legs apart even further, allowing himself to slip in between them. He leans down and starts to kiss your thighs, leaving small nips every once in a while. When it’s clear you’re too impatient for this, Jeonghan closes the gap between his mouth and your pussy, pressing a kiss to your entrance. From there, it only gets messier as Jeonghan darts his tongue out to lap at your arousal. He licks a thick strip along your slit, stopping at your clit so he can wrap his lips around it. You moan as you feel him suck on the bud.
His hands are holding on tight to your thighs, keeping them apart. His tongue swirls around your clit and you buck your hips up as your hands fly to grip onto the sheets. You’re sure you look pathetic, but you don’t care if it means you can get head this good.
His mouth switches between sucking your clit and licking at your entrance. You’re dripping slick now, even as Jeonghan licks it up. He buries his face between your thighs deeper, and you’re sure his face is a mess now. He drags his teeth against your sensitive clit and you whine loudly.
Jeonghan seems to be happy with his affect on you and he finally gives attention to how empty you feel. His finger rubs your slit for a second before he pushes it inside of you. You’re completely drenched and his finger glides in with ease, allowing him to slide a second one in not long after. 
His mouth is still working at your clit as he fucks a third finger into you. He thrusts them deeper each time, curling them back to hit the soft spot of your walls. It pays off to have someone know your body so well, and you can already feel your brain going fuzzy as Jeonghan knows all the right places to hit.
Your abs tighten as you can feel yourself approaching your orgasm. Your thighs clamp down around Jeonghan’s head as a warning, and then you’re shaking as you reach your high. You moan freely, your hands grasping at the sheets, as Jeonghan continues to work you through it.
When your body has calmed down, you sink into the bed, allowing yourself to rest for a moment. Jeonghan has finally come up for air, his whole face shiny with your arousal. You grab him a tissue and he wipes off his mouth and fingers.
“You’re turn,” you whisper as you push Jeonghan down onto the bed. He’s still completely dressed you and push his shirt up to kiss down his stomach before pulling down his pants and underwear like he did to you. 
His cock springs free, fully hard and leaking. You slot yourself between his legs and waist no time taking the tip in between your lips. You suck gently before working your way down his length. After doing this many times, you’ve had practice taking him, and you can completely get his whole cock down your throat.
Though Jeonghan isn’t very blessed in the girth department, his cock is the longest you’ve ever been with, being able to reach deep inside you and down your throat. You bob your head up and down, letting his tip hit the back of your throat, before you pop off his cock, wrapping your lips around the shaft as your hand fondles his balls.
Your tongue darts out so you can run it against his cock, swirling it around the rim of his tip. You can hear the stuttered breathing of Jeonghan above you, as you back to sucking at the head of his cock. His pre-cum coats your tongue, and you have to admit, the salty taste brings you joy.
“G-gonna cum,” Jeonghan mumbles before he’s spilling his load right into your mouth. You do your best to catch it all, but some still slips out and drips down your chin, which you think makes Jeonghan cum even harder. “Fuck, your mouth is so good.”
You pull your mouth off of Jeonghan, swallowing the rest of the cum in your mouth, and Jeonghan groans. You crawl back up to Jeonghan’s face, kissing him. If the fact you just had his dick in your mouth bothers Jeonghan, he doesn’t show it.
“Need you in me, Hannie,” you tell him.
“Okay baby,” Jeonghan responds. He flips you over, so you’re laying on your back. He removes his shirt, so you’re both completely naked, before leaning down to kiss you again.
You’re not sure how his cock is still hard, despite just cumming, but you can’t complain when you feel him rubbing his tip against your slit. His kiss deepens as he pushes inside of you, your walls clenching down to mold against his cock.
You try to relax, but he feels so good sliding into you. After a moment he’s fully inside of you, his tip pressed snug up against your cervix. Jeonghan slowly slides out of you before slamming back in. Your pussy is soaking wet and you’re sure Jeonghan’s cock is drenched, if the wet squelch was any indicator.
Jeonghan starts to slowly thrust in and out of you, building up his pace as he goes. Your thighs hug his hips as you wrap your legs around him and your fingers dig into his back. You can feel his mouth suck at your collarbone as he slams into you harder.
His cock reaches deep in you, the drag of his cock against your walls causing your brain to go even more incoherent. All you can think about is Jeonghan and his body against yours and his cock fucking you so good. There’s a reason you’ve let him hit with no strings attached for so long, it’s just even better now that you can fully call him yours.
“You feel so good around me,” Jeonghan mumbles into your neck. “Perfect fucking pussy.”
“Love your cock,” you mumble back. “So deep inside.”
“Fuck, need you to ride me.”
You and Jeonghan take a moment to reposition and then you’re bouncing in his lap. Your grip onto his shoulders tight for leverage as you fuck yourself on his cock. His cock hits as a new angle in this position and all you can do is moan like a bitch in heat. 
Jeonghan reaches down and grabs onto your ass, guiding you up and down his cock as he squeezes the flesh. Your tits are bouncing wildly in Jeonghan’s face and he leans forward, sucking one into his mouth. You throw your head back as your eyes flutter close, lost in your pleasure. 
Your thighs get tired at some point and you start to just grind against him, his cock curving up into you at just the right angle. Jeonghan can sense your neglected clit and he reaches down to start rubbing circles into it. Your cunt clenches down, and both you and Jeonghan can tell you’re about to cum soon.
“Need your cum, Hannie,” you tell him, your words slurring together. “Fill me up.”
“Anything for you, darling,” Jeonghan says, half delirious himself.
It only takes one final jerk of your clit to have you trembling around him. Your pussy walls fluttering against his cock as you fall forward against Jeonghan, your body twitching as you cum. You can feel Jeonghan’s cock throbbing inside of you as he cums as well, filling you full of his seed.
You both lay like that for a while, with Jeonghan still inside of you as you exchange soft kisses. When it’s clear you need to get up, you slowly lift yourself off of Jeonghan’s cock, and you can feel his cum slide out of you. 
“Fuck, we need to wash my sheets,” you mumble.
“Okay, but let’s cuddle for just a bit longer.” And well, you can’t say no to that.
“Oh, we hate to see you two go,” you mom says as Jeonghan finishes putting your things into your car. “Visit soon, okay? And bring Jeonghan as well.”
“Yes Mom, I will.” You lean in to hug her.
“Thank you for allowing me to stay with you guys over break,” Jeonghan tells your mom and she pulls him into a hug as well.
“Thank you for being such a good guest. And for being such a good boyfriend to our Pumpkin. Visit soon, okay sweetheart?”
“Of course.” Jeonghan smiles at your mom.
“Bye-bye!” Your little brother says as he hugs your leg. You reach down and pick him up so you and Jeonghan can hug him in between you two. You press a kiss to his cheek.
“Bye, buddy. I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Seen you soon!” You let him down and he runs off.
“Text me as soon as you get to your apartment.”
“I will. Okay, we really have to go.”
“I love you,” your mom says as she kisses your cheek.
“I love you too.” 
“Okay bye Pumpkin, bye Jeonghan.” You both wave before climbing into the car.
As you take off you reach over and grab Jeonghan’s hand. 
“Well it seems this was a successful trip,” Jeonghan says.
“Very,” you agree.
You not only got a boyfriend, but now you don’t ever have to tell your mom you lied to her to get on birth control. It’s really a win-win situation in your eyes.
You glance over at Jeonghan to see him already staring back at you. Yeah, it truly is a win.
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sunsetreid · 7 months
Text
back to school night [ s. reid ]
— part one !
part of the ‘ back to school night ‘ series
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paring : teacher!Spencer Reid x single mom!reader
summary : Spencer is your daughter’s elementary school teacher, and they finally meet at back to school night
requested : no
genre : fluff & smut
warnings : age gap (8 years), some language, explicit sexual content, slight hair pulling, fingering, oral (f & m receiving), protected sex, p in v penetration, use of some pet names
【 18+ CONTENT BELOW (minors dni !) 】
She is so late to back to school night.
This was in her calendar for the past two weeks and she managed to still be late. Her 8-year-old daughter Cassia is too preoccupied with her tablet in the back to notice just how late the two of them actually are.
Back to school night started at 7. It’s thirty minutes past the start time. (Y/N) has probably missed most of the parent meeting already. If it weren't for how excited Cassia was for her mother to finally meet her teacher, she would have happily stayed home and watched a Disney movie with her daughter.
Cassia’s father usually does drop off because the school is on the way to his work so (Y/N) has never met her daughter’s third grade teacher. Until tonight.
Being late is such a good first impression.
As soon as she finds a parking spot and turns the car engine off, (Y/N) quickly gathers her things and Cassia before rushing inside.
“Cassie, which way to your classroom?” she asks her daughter. Cassia points down a hallway so she grabs her hand and heads down.
When (Y/N) and Cassia walk inside, they are greeted by dozens of eyes. The man who is leaning over one of the desks and is pointing something out looks up at them.
Cassia lets go of her mother’s hand and runs over to the man, who (Y/N) notices is dressed in a button-up and tie with dress pants. His hair is on the longer side but he still looks handsome.
“Doctor Reid!” Cassia exclaims as she throws herself at him and gives him a hug. “Look who came with me today.”
The man — Dr. Reid — smiles at Cassia before looking up at (Y/N). “That cannot be your mother, Cassie,” he says. His hazel eyes meet hers and she feels a warm sensation spread throughout her body.
A sensation she hasn’t felt since having Cassia.
“It is!” an excited Cassia replies. “That’s my mom.”
Dr. Reid tells Cassia that her classmates are down the hall with the snacks. She runs out of the room and Dr. Reid looks up at (Y/N).
Immediately, she begins to apologize when Dr. Reid turns to face her. “I am so sorry that I’m late,” she says. “I lost track of time when Cass asked me when we were leaving for back-to-school night and I just-”
“You can relax, Miss (L/N),” Dr. Reid laughs. “No need to ramble. I understand very well how easy it is to lose track of time. I can give you a quick rundown of how the classroom works as soon as I'm done with the presentation.”
A sigh of relief passes her lips. “Thank you, Doctor Reid,” she replies.
“First of all, you can call me Spencer,” he replies. She smiles. “I’d also like to say that your daughter is one of my most energized and enthusiastic students. She is always participating in lessons and offering to help others. I love to see that kind of participation in the classroom.”
(Y/N) nods. “Cassia loves to learn,” she tells Spencer. “When her father drops her off after school, she always tells me about the things that she did that day and the facts that you tell her. I think you have actually made her want to learn even more than she already did.”
Spencer laughs and looks down at his feet like he’s shy about compliments. “I know too much and sometimes I tell my students,” he replies with a small smile on his lips. “Especially if it relates to the lesson. I have an eidetic memory and I’m always reading so I remember a lot of stupid facts.”
“That’s kind of cool,” (Y/N) says. “I mean, I’d love to know all these little random facts.”
A light blush coats Spencer’s cheeks. “Um, I actually have to get back to presenting but I’d still love to give you that rundown I promised you after.”
She nods and finds Cassia’s desk. She sits down and watches Spencer get back to presenting.
(Y/N)’s eyes don’t leave Spencer the entire time he is in front of the classroom. He looks professional while also having a goofy vibe, but he sounds like he knows what he’s talking about. He seems pretty confident while standing in front of his students' parents.
Not to mention, he is very handsome. She has never met a nerdy guy who's also as attractive as Spencer is.
When she finds out about his three PhDs and two BAs, he immediately becomes twice as attractive. Intelligence is attractive to her, and Spencer is certainly intelligent.
By 24, he had five degrees and now he’s teaching at an elementary school. (Y/N) is 24 now and she’s a single mother working at a hospital as a part-time nurse with one degree in nursing and struggling to make ends meet.
Parents clap when Spencer is done with his presentation. He takes a couple of questions before the principal comes over the loudspeaker to say that there are snacks and drinks in the cafeteria for those who are interested, need to ask more questions, or just want to hang around and mingle.
Everyone in the room leaves and goes down to the cafeteria while (Y/N) stays behind so she can talk to Spencer a little more to get a sense of how his class will be run.
“That was a nice presentation, from the ten minutes I actually saw,” she teases.
Spencer smiles and closes his laptop. “Well, walk with me to the cafeteria and we can chat,” he tells her. “I’m sure Cassia would love to hang out for a bit while I tell you all about the class.”
"Absolutely she would," she replies.
(Y/N) stays behind and watches Spencer pack his laptop away in his bag. He stuffs some folders inside as well before motioning for her to head to the door so he can lock up the room.
As they begin the trek to the cafeteria, Spencer says, "I don't mean to sound rude or intrude, but you seem really young to have a daughter in the third grade."
"I had Cassia when I was 16," she tells Spencer. "I got pregnant after I got drunk and hooked up with a football player after a game. I'm 24 now and I have full custody of her because her father and I are no longer together, but I let her father bring her to and from school while also spending a few days a week with her."
Spencer looks shocked at (Y/N)'s confession. It's not really a confession at this point. She tells that story to anyone who asks. She's grown so used to saying that she had a baby at 16 that it doesn't even faze her anymore.
"Well, I give you props on raising such a wonderful daughter as a single mother," Spencer replies. "I can't even begin to imagine."
"It took a lot out of me at first but we fell into a routine after the custody battle," (Y/N) explains as they walk into the cafeteria. She spots her daughter playing with some of her classmates and she smiles. "If I could do it all over again, I would. I don't regret having a baby in high school at all."
One of the other parents grabs Spencer's attention and he apologetically walks away with a promise to come back so they can continue their conversation.
(Y/N)'s eyes don't leave Spencer as he walks away with the parent who approached him. He pushes his hair behind his ear and flattens the tie as he nods. His side profile is one of the prettiest that (Y/N) has ever seen.
“Mom, you’re staring,” Cassia’s little voice says to pull her out of her head.
Her cheeks heat up and she shakes her head. “I wasn’t staring.”
“Yes you were! I saw you staring at my teacher,” Cassia tells her mother. A little gasp comes from her. “Aw, do you like like Doctor Reid?”
“Cassia,” (Y/N) sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. “It’s very inappropriate for me to ‘like’ your teacher. I am your mother, and he is your teacher..”
Cassia rolls her eyes. “All I did was ask a question,” she says. “I didn’t need a lecture.” (Y/N) looks up and sees Spencer walking over. “Oh. I wanted to ask if I could stay at Brynn’s house tonight. Her mom said it’s okay.”
“It’s a school night.”
“Brynn literally is in my class, mom,” Cassia replies. “I want to stay. Please? I promise we won’t stay up late.”
Honestly, a night to herself doesn’t sound like a bad idea. A glass of wine and Law & Order sounds like a good night.
“There are studies that show that sleepovers can help independence in children,” Spencer says. “Sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear the question.”
Cassia points at Spencer to prove a point. (Y/N) just shakes her head and smiles. “Fine,” she tells Cassia. “I want you home right after school tomorrow.”
She celebrates and runs off. (Y/N) laughs and looks up at Spencer. “Well now that your night is free, mind if I take you out for a late dinner and that rundown I had promised you? If you haven’t eaten, of course.”
(Y/N) is caught off guard by the question. “I, um …” she trails off. “Do you think that’s a good idea? I mean, you’re my daughter’s teacher. I don’t want her to be accused of favoritism because her mother went to dinner with her teacher.”
“Well, I promise you that I will keep treating Cassia the same way I treat her peers,” Spencer assures (Y/N). “What do you say?”
There’s a little smile on Spencer’s face. That and the confidence he had to ask is the whole reason she says, “Okay, as long as you promise to keep treating Cassia as an equal to her classmates.”
Spencer nods and smiles. “Meet you at Fiola after you drop off Cassia at her friend’s house? My treat,” he says.
(Y/N) mirrors his smile and nods. “Give me a half hour and I’ll meet you there,” she replies. “I just need to get Cassia to Brynn’s and I’ll head over.”
“Mom!” Cassia calls. “Hurry up! Brynn’s mom said she is leaving soon.”
“So, um, see you in half an hour?” she asks. Spencer nods and (Y/N) quickly runs off to her daughter.
There’s a warm feeling in the pit of (Y/N)’s stomach as she and Cassia get in the car. There is a feeling of nervousness as she drives to her apartment that she has and lives in with Cassia.
It’s not a date, but she is nervous like it is. Who knows? Maybe this will turn into something more. Something that (Y/N) has never had before.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
It’s a little after eight when (Y/N) drops Cassia off at her friend’s. She snuck a dress into the car with her so she quickly stops at a convenience store to change on her way to the restaurant.
All she knows about Fiola is that it’s a very upscale restaurant that she could never afford to eat at. She couldn’t show up in a t-shirt and jeans. Even Spencer was dressed nicer than she was.
A little before 8:30 and (Y/N) is walking into the restaurant. The hostess greets her with a smile and asks, “How can I help you today?”
“I’m looking for someone who should’ve been here by now,” she stammers. “Um, the name is Spencer Reid.”
The hostess checks something in front of her and nods with some kind of confirmation. “Right this way, miss,” she says.
She turns and walks into the dining room, weaving between tables. (Y/N) sighs and is brought to the table for two that Spencer is sitting at. “Let me know if you need anything,” the hostess tells (Y/N) when she sits down across from Spencer.
As soon as the hostess walks away, (Y/N)’s eyes turn to Spencer. “Uh, wow,” he blurts out. “I didn’t think you would change for dinner.”
“Felt a little underdressed,” she replies. “Especially for here. I changed quickly after I dropped Cassia off. No biggie.”
Spencer laughs in reply.
Their waiter comes over to take (Y/N)’s order since Spencer had already ordered before she got there. He thanks them both, takes her menu, and walks away to put the orders in.
“So,” (Y/N) sighs. “Do you do this for all the parents who are late to back to school night?”
Spencer smiles behind his glass of water and shakes his head. “Only the pretty ones,” he replies. (Y/N)’s cheeks heat up as she sips her wine. “So, the class will be run similarly to how other classes are run. The day starts at eight, sitting down fifteen minutes for the first lesson. We study English, math, social studies, and science every day spending roughly 90 minutes on each subject. Art is on Mondays around ten, gym is on Thursdays at one, music is on Fridays at ten, and this year we’re starting a technology class that will be on Tuesdays. I’m thinking Wednesdays will be a third grade only thing where the students can ask me questions about whatever they want to know and I’ll answer it the best way that I can. I might call it ‘Dr. Reid Responds’ or something along those lines.”
“That’s such a nice concept,” (Y/N) says when Spencer is done talking. “I meant it earlier when I said that Cass comes home everyday and tells me the facts you tell them through the day. She loves it and already adores you.”
He lets out a light chuckle. “Well I adore Cassia,” he says. “I mean it. We’re only three weeks into the year but she is easily my best student. She is so interested in the material. She reminds me of me when I was her age.”
“She’s a special little girl,” (Y/N) responds after she swallows a sip of wine. “She’s so enthusiastic about everything. Including school.”
Spencer nods in agreement.
There’s a quick moment of silence between the two of them, but it’s not awkward. It’s a comfortable silence. She just looks across the table at Spencer and takes him in while she swirls the wine around in her glass.
He really is handsome. His longer brown hair frames his face perfectly. His hazel eyes almost match the color of his hair. He has high cheekbones and (Y/N) remembers the jawline she saw earlier that day.
“Um, Cassia said you were a nurse,” Spencer says. “Where are you a nurse?”
“Sibley Memorial,” she replies. “I work part-time in the emergency department but I’m trying to get a full-time position.”
“That’s incredible. You save lives all the time.”
(Y/N) chuckles and takes a sip of her drink hoping that it keeps her cheeks from beating up. “I try my best to,” she replies. “I save some, I lose some. It comes with the job. I knew that going in.”
Their meals come shortly after. The pasta dishes that they both ordered look incredible. After one bite, (Y/N) wishes she could take it to Vegas to marry it.
It’s quiet between the two of them while they enjoy the food. (Y/N) loves it and finds herself wishing that she could bring Cassia here.
Maybe one day when she makes enough money to buy a dinner like this for the two of them without costing them a week or groceries or utilities.
“So, Mr. Eidetic Memory,” (Y/N) begins as soon as she is done eating. “You probably could have chosen any career in the world. Why did you choose teaching when you could’ve been working for the FBI or something?”
Spencer laughs and wipes his face free of sauce. “I wanted to make a difference in the lives of those around me,” he replies. “I want to leave a lasting impact on my students. I, um, used to work for the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit but the job became too much, so I turned to teaching. I love kids so I decided to teacher a younger class.”
“That’s really nice, Spencer,” she says when he’s done talking. “I mean, I wanted to be a nurse to help people and you’re teaching for that same reason. Even when you worked for the FBI. You saved lives too.”
“Not enough.” There’s a hint of sadness in his voice when he says those two words. It breaks (Y/N)’s heart.
Before she realizes what she’s doing, (Y/N) reaches across the table and puts her hands on top of Spencer’s. He looks at their hands before his eyes flicker up to meet hers. (Y/N)’s heart beats out of her chest when their eyes meet, the butterflies return to the pit of her stomach.
There is some sadness behind Spencer’s eyes, but there is something else that she can’t quite describe or explain.
The waiter decides now to come up and give them the check. Spencer snatches it before she can look at it. He gives his card immediately to the waiter. She smiles and sits back in her chair. “You’re ridiculous,” she tells him.
“That’s not nice to say to someone who just paid for your dinner, Miss (L/N),” Spencer playfully retorts.
“(Y/N),” she replies. “My name is (Y/N). If I can call you Spencer, then you can call me (Y/N).”
Spencer smiles as the waiter comes back. “(Y/N).”
The way Spencer says her name makes her shiver.
He signs the check and they head outside to the parking lot. (Y/N) looks over at Spencer as they walk. He’s nearly a head taller than she is, and she put on heels.
Spencer walks her all the way to her car. “I just wanted to make sure you got to your car okay before I head to the metro,” he tells her.
“You took the metro?” she asks. “Oh my God. Get in my car, Spencer. I’ll take you home.” She pauses. “Unless you want to come back to my apartment. We can have a drink or two and continue to talk.” He hesitates and (Y/N) smiles. “I’m not going to kidnap you. I know you worked for the FBI and saw things like this but I promise I’m not going to kidnap my daughter’s favorite teacher.”
He laughs, “Okay. A drink or two then I’ll Uber back to my own apartment.”
She gets in the driver’s seat of her car and Spencer gets in beside her. She starts it up and buckles her seatbelt before beginning the drive home.
The entire car ride, (Y/N) is very aware of the man that is sitting next to her. She’s aware of every move he makes, every time he grabs the “oh, shit” handle when she breaks a little too hard at red lights, and every time he thinks he sneaks a glance at her. At one point, his eyes look her up and down. She accidentally stepped on the break a little too hard because she was slightly distracted.
Twenty minutes pass before (Y/N) pulls into her usual parking spot outside of her building. She sighs and turns the car off before she looks at Spencer. “See? I got you here in one piece and I didn’t put a blindfold over your eyes,” she teases.
Spencer just smiles and gets out of the car. She follows suit, locking the vehicle behind her as she and Spencer walk into the building.
She uses her building key to get inside then climbs a flight of stairs.
As she’s unlocking the door to her apartment, she realizes that the apartment is a mess. She hasn’t cleaned in nearly a week because her schedule and Cassia’s schedule.
“Um, I’m sorry about the mess,” she says as she opens the door. “I haven’t really had the time to clean, if I’m being honest.”
“I get it,” Spencer laughs. “Trust me. I’m glad we came here and didn’t go to my apartment. It’s a complete disaster.”
(Y/N) smiles as she shuts the door behind Spencer. “I can go get us drinks while you go sit,” she offers. “What can I get for you?”
“Whatever you’re having.”
She nods and walks into the kitchen. She hears the couch squeak behind her and she smiles to herself.
An attractive man is in her apartment and isn’t judging her for the mess that is her apartment. It’s been years since she went on a proper date — even though dinner with Spencer was not a date — and invited someone back to her apartment. It feels kind of nice to have another adult in her home instead of a crazy child.
She pours both of them a glass of wine before joining Spencer on the couch. She kicks off her heels and they fall to the carpeted floor with a soft thud before she curls up and tucks her feet under her.
“You know, I should’ve asked this before agreeing to go to dinner,” she begins to say. “You aren’t in any kind of relationship, right? No girlfriend, no Mrs. Reid?”
Spencer laughs and shakes his head. “No, I’m not in a relationship and I’m not married,” he replies. “I might be 32 but I’ve only had a handful of relationships and I have never been married. I don’t think I’ve ever really settled down with anyone for a long period of time. I haven’t really had a lot of time to date, especially when I worked at the BAU. I didn't really want to put someone in danger either. I've seen what that did to my co-workers."
“Yeah, that makes sense.”
“I guess you aren’t in a relationship either,” he points out after he sips his wine. “I mean, you invited me back to your apartment. I think that’s a sign that there is no one in your life.”
(Y/N) chuckles to herself and shakes her head. “I am a very single mother,” she tells him.
“Good to know.” He sends a wink in her direction.
They settle into small talk, asking each other how the week is going. Spencer talks about his students and how they’re enjoying what he’s teaching them. She can tell by the way he talks about the kids that he truly loves what he does.
(Y/N) even tells Spencer about her ER stories from the week. Some of them are more gruesome than others but she enjoys her job, more on the days when no one dies in her care.
He asks about Cassia, which throws (Y/N) off a lot. No one has ever been this interested in her daughter. She doesn’t even tell most guys she goes out with about her daughter until a few dates in — again this isn’t a date though.
Spencer knows Cassia though, and he’s getting to know her mother now too. It warms her heart that he is asking about Cassia. Her daughter is her first love. Anyone else comes after her.
Three glasses of wine later, Spencer realizes what time it is. It’s nearly midnight.
“I should probably get going,” he sighs. “Take the train back to my apartment.”
(Y/N) chews on her lower lip for a second, contemplating. “I mean, you could just … stay?” she suggests. “It’s pretty late. By the time you get home, it will probably be close to one in the morning. You’ll only get a few hours of sleep. More hours of sleep if you just … stay here.”
She sees the gears turning behind Spencer’s eyes. He is definitely thinking about it.
“If you’re okay with it.”
“I’m more than okay with it, Spencer.” Her voice almost comes out as a whisper.
Spencer’s eyes almost darken. (Y/N)’s heart is beating so quickly in her chest, especially when he moves a bit closer to her. His thumb drags across her jaw. Goosebumps break out across her body when he touches her.
She should back away before any lines are crossed. This is Cassia's teacher. (Y/N) isn't sure if the line should be crossed because of that.
“Tell me I’m not reading this wrong,” he softly says, eyes flickering down to (Y/N)’s lips for a split second.
Immediately, (Y/N) shakes her head. "You're not reading this wrong," she tells him. "I'm just unsure if we should do this. I mean, you're my daughter's teacher, Spencer. I'm also almost ten years younger than you too."
Spencer doesn't move away. "If you're uncomfortable then tell me," he says. "If you don't want me to kiss you then tell me because I'm going to kiss you if you don't."
Their noses touch and (Y/N) lets out a soft sigh, her eyes fluttering shut.
It's such a bad idea, but she's starting to not care. She's a grown adult. Spencer is a grown adult. They're both consenting adults.
"Kiss me," (Y/N) whispers. "Please, Spencer."
With zero hesitation, Spencer closes the space between them and captures her lips with his. They sit with their lips connected for a few seconds before (Y/N) reciprocates the kiss. Spencer leans into her, which deepens the kiss.
It's such a soft yet deep kiss that it nearly takes the breath out of her lungs. Especially after one of Spencer's hands slides into her hair and his fingers curl into her locks. It holds her in place, not that she's planning on going anywhere. She's not.
(Y/N) throws one of her legs over Spencer's knee and moves even closer. She wraps her hand around Spencer's wrist so he doesn't take his hand out of her hair.
Spencer's free hand rests on her knee, slowly sliding up her thigh until his fingers are under the soft fabric of her black dress, tracing the outline of her panties. He grips her thigh under the dress and (Y/N) sighs against Spencer's lips.
When Spencer moves his hand higher, (Y/N) throws her leg over his lap and straddles his thighs. Her hands cup Spencer's jaw while her fingers play with the ends of Spencer's hair.
She feels Spencer's hand move higher and rest on her butt. She begins to untie the tie around his neck without breaking the kiss.
She starts to get frustrated because she can’t see what she’s doing. With a groan, she pulls back and Spencer laughs. “Relax, (Y/N),” he tells her as he puts his hands over hers. “I’m not going anywhere.” He unties his tie for her and drops it on the couch beside them.
(Y/N) meets his eyes and relaxes her body. She smiles at him as his hands come up to cup her cheeks. “God, I haven’t done this in a long time,” she breathes out as she looks back down at her hands on his chest. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey, you’re doing fine,” Spencer assures her, dipping his head down and meeting her eyes. He smiles as if to reassure her. “Seriously.”
“Then can we move this to the bedroom,” she suggests. “The couch isn’t very comfortable if I’m being honest. It’s a very cheap and kind of lumpy. Not fun to lay on.”
Spencer smiles and nods. “If you want to get me in your bed, just tell me,” he teases.
(Y/N) gets up off of his lap and begins to walk down the hallway. "Let's go then."
She reaches behind her and unzips the dress as she walks. Footsteps sound behind her as the fabric hits the floor with a soft thud. She turns into her bedroom, which is a lot cleaner than the living room.
Not three steps into her bedroom, a pair of arms wraps around her waist. She’s pulled backward and crashes into something solid. (Y/N) giggles and looks up at Spencer. "You're gorgeous, (Y/N)," he mumbles into her ear. His lips brush against her ear and she shivers.
He moves her hair off of her shoulder and begins to kiss her neck. She tilts her head to the side and lets out a soft sigh. "You are too, Spencer."
She turns in his arms and looks up at him. He tucks her hair behind her ear and pulls her into another kiss. Her fingers begin working on unbuttoning his shirt because he's wearing too many clothes for her liking. Especially since she's standing in front of him in nothing but a bra and panties.
As soon as his shirt is unbuttoned, Spencer untucks it from the waistband of his pants and lets it drop to the floor. His fingers reach behind her and he unclasps her bra and she lets it join Spencer's shirt on the ground.
He tugs (Y/N) impossibly closer to him, their chests pressed against each other. They literally can not get any closer to each other unless she crawls into him.
Without breaking the kiss, he picks (Y/N) up and walks toward her bed. She wraps her legs around his waist until he lays her down on the mattress.
Spencer hovers above her and her legs fall open so he can get comfortable between them. He kicks his shoes and toes his socks off while they both move backward in the mattress. (Y/N)'s fingers slide into his hair and hold his warm brown locks out of his face.
He grinds his bulge against (Y/N)'s clothed core. She lets out a soft moan against his lips. Spencer snakes a hand between them and slides his fingers into her panties. She whines while his fingers run through her dripping folds. He takes advantage of the distraction and pushes his tongue into her mouth.
"Spencer," she whines. He breaks the kiss when she says his name,
"This okay?"
"Yes," she replies. "Do something." She moves her hips so his fingers line up with her entrance. "Please."
Spencer pushes one finger into her. He curls it slightly as he pumps in and out of her. Soft sighs pass her slightly parted lips. Her eyes are on Spencer. His hair is wild from having her fingers in it, his lips are red and swollen from the kisses that they have exchanged over the past few minutes.
A second and third finger is soon added and (Y/N) withers under his touch. "Fuck," she gasps when he curls all three of his fingers. "Spencer."
"Let me hear you, baby," Spencer tells her as he kisses down her body. He makes a quick pit stop at your breasts, swirling his tongue around one of your nipples. Her back arches off the mattress with a moan. "That's it."
He continues his journey down her body. Spencer hooks his fingers into the waistband of her panties and pulls them off of her body. He kisses the inside of her thighs before he wraps his lips around her clit. He sucks gently and (Y/N)'s fingers grip Spencer's hair. She looks down and meets his eyes.
"Oh my God," she groans as she throws her head back against the pillow. "Spencer. Fuck."
She doesn't mean to pull on Spencer's hair, but the reaction she gets out of him makes her want to do it again. He hums around her and it makes her entire body shake. She has to bite down on her lower lip so she literally doesn't scream Spencer's name. The last thing she needs is for her neighbors to hear her having what's probably the best sex of her life.
Spencer curls his fingers inside of her and she lets out a borderline pornographic moan, coming without warning around Spencer's fingers. (Y/N)'s breathing is labored as he fingers her through her high.
Her entire body melts and becomes one with the mattress when he withdraws his fingers and she begins to come back to reality. She is quick to notice that her legs are still shaking.
"Shit," she chuckles as Spencer sits back on his knees and licks his lips. That simple motion shouldn't be as hot as it is, but she knows what he's licking off of his lips.
Something comes over (Y/N). She doesn't know if it's confidence or what but she pulls Spencer back down to the mattress. She flips them over and sits on Spencer's waist. She doesn't even know how she managed to do that considering she was just shaking from her orgasm not five minutes ago.
She leans down and presses soft kisses to Spencer's jaw and cheek. "My turn to make you feel good," she whispers when she gets close to his ear. "You lay there and look pretty."
(Y/N) swears she feels Spencer shiver beneath her. With a small smile, she begins to kiss down his neck and chest. Her fingers begin to work at the belt around his waist. The metal clangs while she works on getting the belt undone. She shoves her hand down his pants when the belt and button get undone.
Spencer groans when (Y/N)'s hand wraps around his erect dick. She gives him a few strokes in his pants before she pulls both his pants and boxers down his legs. They join her underwear on the ground next to the bed while she settles between his legs.
He's a little bigger than average, but not too thick. It's still a little intimidating.
She wipes away the bit of pre-come that has collected at the tip of his dick with her thumb. "(Y/N)," Spencer warns. "Don't tease. It's not nice."
(Y/N) smiles and wraps her lips around the bright red tip. Her tongue swirls around the top for a second before she lowers her mouth onto him.
She uses one hand to make up for what she can't fit in her mouth and uses the other to touch herself because the sounds that are coming from Spencer are too much and she needs some relief. She imagines that it's his fingers that are bringing her close to the edge.
Soft groans come from Spencer as she occasionally hollows out her cheeks and sucks.
He begins thrusting up into her mouth. She stops moving and lets him use her mouth. "God, look at you, (Y/N)," Spencer sighs. "Letting me use that pretty mouth of yours."
His words shoot straight to the knot in (Y/N)'s stomach that already threatens to come undone again. He's careful not to choke her with his dick as he fucks her mouth.
Before she comes again, she pulls off Spencer with a soft pop. He raises his eyebrows at her as she moves over to her bedside table. She opens the drawer and pulls out a little foil package. She tosses it at Spencer.
"I want you to fuck me," she tells him. "And as much as I love my daughter, I'm not ready for another one so put that on and fuck me."
Spencer doesn't need to be told twice. He rips open the little package with his teeth while (Y/N) lays down in front of him. Her legs fall open and as soon as the condom is on, Spencer falls on top of her.
"This is something you want?" he asks. "I just want to make sure that you won't have any regrets about it."
She leans up and captures Spencer's lips in a soft kiss. He brackets her head with his arms as she pulls him down so she can lay her head on the pillow. "I want you, Spencer Reid," she mumbles between kisses. "All of you. Please."
In the very short amount of time that she has known Spencer, she already feels very connected to him. Between the way they bonded over why they're in the fields they're in and the fact that they both have some kind of love for Cassia, (Y/N) can see herself with him. He could be the father figure that Cassia doesn't really have in her life.
He's been so careful the entire time he's been over. He's been taking care of (Y/N) the whole time, making sure she's okay before making a move. It warms her heart.
Spencer lining himself up with her entrance causes (Y/N) to come back to reality. She breaks the kiss and stares up at Spencer. There is a fire behind those honey-colored eyes of his. A fire that excites her.
She uses her fingers to push back Spencer's hair so she can see his face as he pushes himself into her since she gave him permission. She gasps as he slowly fills her up. He moves slowly, giving her time to adjust to his size.
Her eyes never leave his. (Y/N) notices his pupils blow up as he sinks further into her. She wraps her legs around her and digs her heels into the back of his thighs, which forces Spencer to completely fill her.
"Let me know when I can move," he softly says as he brushes a piece of her hair out of her face. " I don't want to hurt you, baby."
(Y/N)'s thumbs softly run over his cheekbones. Her heart flutters at the pet name. She nods after a moment of silence.
Spencer slowly begins to thrust his hips into her. (Y/N) lets out soft whines as he moves. Her fingers curl in Spencer's hair and he leans down to press hot, open-mouthed kisses to her neck and collarbone.
"Spencer," she sighs. "Faster. You're not going to break me."
He nips at the skin on her collarbone and she lets out a soft moan. "You have no idea what you're doing to me, (Y/N)," Spencer pants against her skin. "You look so pretty underneath me. I can't get enough."
She bites her bottom lip again and arches her back off the mattress, trying to get even closer to him. His hand comes down on her waist and he holds her waist up.
His pace gets faster and he moves deeply into her.
With every hard thrust, the bed squeaks and (Y/N) groans. She should be worried about the fact that her bed sounds like it's going to break if they keep up this pace, but that is the very last thing on her mind.
The hand that was holding (Y/N)'s waist slithers lower and Spencer's fingers connect with her still-sensitive clit. She whines as he uses his fingers to get her closer to her orgasm. She bucks her hips up every time he thrusts into her, keeping up with his pace.
"Fuck, Spencer," she groans.
"You gonna come again for me, pretty girl?" he asks. It comes out in pants because of how labored his breathing is. His breathy voice is hotter than (Y/N) should find it. "Go ahead and come for me, baby. Let go. I've got you."
It isn't long after that before she's clenching around Spencer's dick and coming around him with the loudest moan that she's ever let out. Her back arches off the bed and for a second, she swears she's floating when her vision goes completely white.
Her entire body goes numb after her second orgasm in about fifteen minutes. (Y/N) isn't sure that she'll ever be able to move again. Spencer might have just killed her by giving her the best orgasm of her entire life.
(Y/N) doesn't even feel Spencer pull out or notice that he disappeared before she sees him walking back into the bedroom with a towel to clean them both up.
"We are so lucky that Cassia isn't here," (Y/N) says, voice raspy as she talks. Spencer laughs as he wipes away the layer of sweat that has formed on both of them. "I don't think I have ever been that loud during sex. Ever."
Spencer throws the towel on the floor and crawls next to (Y/N). He pulls the blankets on top of both of them and (Y/N) curls up at his side. "Next time, we can't be that loud," he tells her.
She looks up at him and pushes his sweat-soaked hair out of his eyes. "We should probably shower," she points out.
"Now why should we do that when that's not going to be the only round for tonight?" Spencer's head dips down and captures her lips in a slow kiss.
"What happened to sleep?"
"Sleep is for the weak."
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Spencer leaves early in the morning because he can't show up to work in the same clothes he left in yesterday. The kids would notice if he did that.
(Y/N) tells Cassia's father that she'll pick Cassia up from school since she's "already out". She isn't already out of the apartment. She leaves at two so she can go pick up her daughter, and see her new ... whatever Spencer is.
It's a little after 2:30 when (Y/N) pulls up to the school. She hangs around with the other parents, talking mostly to Brynn's mom about how Cassia was last night.
"What did you do with your suddenly free night?" Brynn's mom asks (Y/N).
"Drank some wine," she replies. "Turned in early and got up late." Not a complete lie. She was technically in bed by ten and only woke up to say goodbye to Spencer after a round of sex in the shower. She slept until noon after he left.
The kids all come running out shortly after. They get dismissed by grade and luckily for (Y/N), their teachers come out with them.
By the time third grade comes out, (Y/N) is practically shaking with excitement to see Spencer after their night together.
She sees Cassia come running out. Her daughter comes running right over to her. (Y/N) leans down and picks her daughter up "I thought daddy was picking me up today like he always does," she says.
"I was out and decided to come get you," she replies. "How was school today?"
"Doctor Reid was in a very good mood today," Cassia tells her mom. There is confusion in her voice. "He didn't even give us homework tonight because of his good mood."
(Y/N) look up to see Spencer walking toward her and Cassia. "No homework, hm?" she asks as Spencer approaches them with a smile on his face. "I think this calls for an ice cream night in celebration."
“Ooh, ice cream,” Spencer says. “Sounds like fun.” She shoots Spencer a little smile.
Cassia looks between her mother and teacher before she says, “You should come over and have ice cream with us, Doctor Reid! Ice cream night is a lot of fun. We watch movies too.”
“Now that does sound like a lot of fun,” Spencer replies, eyes flickering between (Y/N) and Cassia. “It’s up to your mom if I can come or not though.”
Her daughter looks at her and does her puppy dog pout. “Please?” she asks. “It’ll be a lot more fun if Doctor Reid came over and had ice cream with us.”
(Y/N) smiles and looks up at Spencer. “Would you like to come over and have ice cream with us while we watch movies, Doctor Reid?”
“Absolutely,” he replies. “Sounds like a lot of fun. What time should I come over?”
“Seven,” (Y/N) tells him.
Cassia celebrates and her mother puts her down. “See you later, Doctor Reid!” she calls as she runs to the car.
Both Spencer and (Y/N) look at each other while Cassia gets in the car. “Make sure you bring pajamas or a change of clothes tonight, Doctor Reid,” she tells him. “Don’t need a repeat of last night, do we?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Nice mark, by the way,” (Y/N) points out. “Wonder why you’re in such a good mood.”
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
A/N - this is my first spencer reid one shot so pls let me know how i did. hope it wasn’t bad
MASTERLIST
REQUEST GUIDLINES
PART TWO
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mitsies · 7 months
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❊ miss americana & the heartbreak prince - itoshi sae . . from one formal to the next, everything works out one way or another
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your first junior high dance is in the company of your best friend, itoshi sae.
you had to try hard to convince him to go. really, really try to convince him. and you had to get his mom in on it, too, that's how hard you had to try. he was content to stay at home in those stupid little red basketball shorts that he either 1), never washed or 2), had 7 pairs of, binging sports highlights and discussing things you don't care all that much about on the couch.
but this night was special, you'd insisted. it was the very first dance of the very first year as official junior high students. you were both 11, practically ancient, and how boring would it be to stay home when there were adventures to be had? and besides, you had a plan. tonight, you were going to tell your best friend since diapers that you had a super-uber-mega crush on him, and maybe give him a hug after (if you were feeling bold.)
you have it all planned out. after finally managing to convince him to come to the dance with you, you'll steal him away from your friend group and take him to the hallway next to your maths class, where no one ever goes. and then, you'd tell him about how mieko told you that mai told her that akane told her that keiko told her that she thinks he likes you back, and then you'd ask if it was true. and then he'd say, 'oh my gosh, yes, i love you,' and then high-five you, and then you'd be boyfriend and girlfriend. because that's how it works, right?
well, you made it halfway-ish. and to say that is just to say you managed to force him to the dance and sneak him off into the side hallway. oh, he looks cute. he's shorter than you but that's fine because he'll get taller before you guys get married. and his hair is gel-slicked and looks kind of silly, and you know it's his mom's doing. his suit is frumpy and ill-fitting and he's wearing cleats instead of dress shoes because that's just how junior high boys are.
he's been grumpy all day, as per usual. but you keep catching him staring at you. and he keeps doing that little tiny smile-ish thing that he does, where he smiles a little but not a lot so he just looks constipated instead. and oh, you're in bad luck, because as soon as you're in that maths hallway and the music from the dance goes muffled and it's just him, and it's just you, you seem to forget everything you've planned to say.
"what did you want to tell me?" uh-oh. uh-oh, this is bad. oh, it's so bad. your best friend since diapers, your future husband, the one person you could never get sick of, was going to think you were an absolute idiot. how embarrassing! how embarrassing, oh no.
"uh," you can't meet his eyes, and choose to fiddle with your fingers instead, pulling at your sloppily painted nails (green to match his eyes, like asami had insisted), "well— um, i actually— i just— to.. um."
wow, this was lame. you're 11 now, where is your class? where is your wisdom? oh, how humiliating. "i just—"
"you like me."
you pause. you stare. he stares back, and his expression goes from that same old neutral to that silly little stupid kinda-smile. and then, panic sets in.
"oh, haha! i do? who told you that? who? no seriously, who? or, or, what made you think that? why do you think that? i— i don't like— or, well, i don't not— no, stop, stop, actually. who told you? was it akane? oh, i knew akane was a snitch! ignore her. ignore this. i mean, unless you— but. hey, it's—"
"so you do, or don't?"
this was sae. this was itoshi sae, and this was how he's always been. no-nonsense, straight-froward, abrasive, blunt. all hard around the edges but so, so soft at the center like those really good cookies they sell at the cafeteria. only for you, usually, and his baby brother, and that was pretty much is.
sometimes you forget just how much you like him. it's a lot, you like him a lot. so, so much. he's the same boy who meets you on the side of the curb when you call him crying from the home phone, because your parents are angry again. he's the boy who will spend forever with you working on your maths homework when you're having a hard time understanding. he's the boy who will split a cafe cookie with you after he sees you in the stands of one of his games. oh, he's that boy. he's the boy you super-mega-ultra liked, and maybe-kinda-sorta loved a little teensy tiny bit. you exhale.
"i do."
your voice is small. your hands twist together anxiously and you can't do anything but stare at the floor. and in your peripheral vision, you see little red cleats take a hesitant step closer, and closer, and then— a hand lands on top of yours.
oh, it's sae's. oh, he's holding your hand.
well, not really. but it's close enough, and you look up and his cheeks are rosy and he looks like an angel, oh lord, he's so cute you might be sick. all he says is, "good. me too, or something."
the very first middle school dance of the year is where itoshi sae stops being just your best friend, and becomes your boyfriend. and that word changes meaning over time— years go by. somewhere in that mess, there's a tentative kiss, and a whole lot of 'i love you's' and a dozen more firsts, all with each other, all with a world of love. awkward pre-teens go to teenagers. how lucky you are, that mieko told you that mai told her that akane told her that keiko told her that she thinks he likes you back. because she was right after all.
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it's your boyfriend who asks you to prom. and you’re mad at him, but you say yes anyways.
it’s the first time you’ve seen him in weeks. prom night is the same night he flies back in from spain for the holidays, and coincidentally, the first time he’s talked to you for more than 20 minutes. you pick him up from the airport in your dress, and he’s in his suit. you’ve already missed your dinner reservations— you’re trying not to care. but this was your senior year. and you were so, so excited. the restaurant was his favourite kind of food, and it was in an aquarium, and reservations were hard to get, and he had caused you to miss them because his flight was delayed.
you know it's selfish. you know, because how could you not know? how was it his fault that the weather in spain was so poor that he was forced to wait at the airport longer than expected? how was it his fault that it just so happened to rain? but the evil, burning, and bitter side of your heart replies: it's his fault he was gone in the first place. it's his fault he was in spain and not by your side, to begin with.
normal 18-year-old couples don't have to take a 16-hour flight just to see each other, your anger says. and you know it's right.
when itoshi sae, at 13, told you he was going to be a star, you hardly believed him. actually, you recall your own incredulous laugh, and that cute way the space at the corner of his eyes wrinkle when he's annoyed. you didn't believe him, but then less than a year later he was gone to spain hellbent on becoming the best.
he used to call you every night for hours. as often as he could, he'd call or text. and he'd talk to you in the way that he only talked to you. with a softness. with a tender kind of love. the infinite kind. and whenever he got the chance to fly back, he would, to spend time with you and rin and his parents, but mostly you (as he'd tell you after he made you swear not to snitch). he used to love you, and act like it.
but as years blurred past, and he got taller (not by much) and you both grew older (not by a lot), things shifted. changed. spun in a circle and landed facing the opposite direction. he called you less. sometimes, when you called him, he'd not pick up even though you knew he was free. and he visited less, and he stopped talking to rin but wouldn't say why. sometimes when you'd visit his mother, you'd see rin stealing glances at you from the curves and corners of the house. he stopped saying hi to you a while ago, too.
you drive to your senior prom in near silence. there's some music playing on the radio— nothing either of you had put on, just the default top hits of 2017— and no one says anything and you think that might be better. because you're thinking about the way he used to buy him and his little brother ice cream on really hot days with his very own pocket money, and you think if you hear his voice you might start ugly crying and ruin your makeup. and then you think about how it's your senior prom, and you're about to cry, and your boyfriend can't even look at you, and oh, you're holding back tears all over again.
the first thing he says to you that night is, "i was about to do that," when you open the car door by yourself. you are so, so angry. but you just smile like you're not, because it's not his fault you resent his leaving. it's not his fault you miss his mom and brother but can't visit anymore without it being awkward. it's not his fault he's gone, and it's not his fault he acts like he hates you. it's not his fault but you despise him so, so much.
he puts a hand on your waist as he walks you towards the venue— some stupid country club kind of thing, you didn't care enough to read anything but the address. his touch feels wrong— it didn't always. but these hands are rough, and you don't recognise them. you stop walking.
all around you, everyone keeps moving. there are girls in frills and pretty, glittery, long dresses. suits and ties, and the smell of cologne, and the floral perfume. it's dark out, now. and the people aren't walking into the building— they're leaving. you catch someone's watch out of the corner of your eye. you've missed your senior prom.
"what's wrong?" sae's voice hardly registers. you feel the tears fall.
"we missed it."
"hm?"
you turn to him. he looks like he couldn't care less. and you abhor him.
"we missed the dance."
sae blinks. his eyes are blank— maybe they've always been. maybe when you were 11, you were too dumb to see. maybe he's always hated you, you think, because he replies, "oh. back to the car?"
and you're really crying now, because he doesn't even care.
you can't manage words, not until he speaks for you. "don't cry. it was just some stupid school dance."
you wonder what this looks like to people. a boy, looking like he couldn't care less. and you, makeup streaked with tears, like your world just collapsed.
"did you really care that much?"
"did i care?" your voice comes out mangled, "did i care?"
he looks startled at your reaction, the most emotion he's shown tonight. you continue:
"of course i cared that much. of course i did. because how long ago was our last date? the last time we did anything together? the last time you could look me in the eyes? of course i care. not about this stupid dance," you're out of breath, but you continue, "i care about you. you, i care about you."
he looks the same amount of placid, and the same amount of blank. and you'd cry harder if it didn't hurt so bad. he says nothing so all there's left to ask is, "but do you even care about me? do you care anymore?"
his face betrays nothing. and you're taken back to juvenile days, and ice cream and sun, and soccer practice after school, and annoying little brothers and love notes in lockers. and you think that this is not the same boy you loved. and you don't know where that boy went, but he's not here, he's not the one standing in front of you staring instead of holding you while you cry.
and he doesn't look the least bit sorry.
you knew the answer to his question before it even came out of your mouth. maybe you've known for years. maybe you just had blind faith in him, and your aquarium-restaurant reservations, and a stupid, cheesy, lame high school dance that you couldn't care less about to prove that there was still a tiny bit of hope. but it'd just shown you that there was nothing left.
you feel like a set of bones beneath a dress. you feel like a ghost in a crowd of people. you feel like a spectacle, you feel insane. you must look it, too. maybe you are. there is a coldness to sae's voice when he finally speaks. a coldness that is new. that you haven't heard before. you're scared.
"are you done yet?"
you're not crying anymore. you're just feeling strange.
you hate how you care about how sae's going to get home when you leave him standing there and walk back to your car. your shoes— bought just for today— tap on the pavement. the shoes and your heartbeat. your car's engine. the doors slamming shut. people laughing outside. the radio's top hits of 2017. that's all you hear, that's all. and when you get home and turn your car off, you sit in the driver's seat and cry.
you can hear all your thoughts. you can hear the ugly desperate cries clawing your throat raw like an animal. mascara-stained teardrops land on your dress and trickle down your chin, and burn your eyes. you don't know when you lost him. was it when he'd first went to spain? was it when he'd first cancelled a visit back, or hung up the phone? or was it before then? has he ever liked you, or did he only hold your hand back at that middle school dance because he felt like he had to? and your tears taste like melted ice cream and memories, or maybe you're just crazy.
you loved him. did he ever love you?
angry tears. sad ones, too. your hands need to destroy something so they pull and clench and squeeze your legs through the fabric of your dress as you dry-heave. the ache is not empty. it hurts, it burns. your lungs burn. your heart is heavy and hot and disgusting. how you feel is wrong. everything feels wrong.
everything feels wrong, and now you're single on prom night.
what's even left for you, now?
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being 21 is weird.
you're all grown up, now. you've got friends, and you have just recently landed a job at a big journalism company while you wrap up university. and today's your first day going out to a company event instead of sitting at a desk all day, and you're so excited.
the event is some kind of gala. you've been told it's to celebrate the opening of a new sports thing that your employers have invested in that you don't really know too much about. and it's not quite your specialty but you'd never miss out on an opportunity to dress up and get a free fancy dinner as a representative for your company, who were big investors. you wonder who'll be there. who are some sports people? actually, what kind of a stadium was this? a baseball field? is that even a stadium?
why were you even invited? you don't have the slightest clue about this investment. but that doesn't matter, because you're there now, stepping out of your company car in a pretty dress that you'd chosen for yourself. you wonder when the last time you've been this dressed up was. maybe your cousin's wedding, when you were 17? or, you think with a twinge of something bitter in your chest, was it your senior prom at 18?
whatever. it doesn't matter. you don't care about that anymore— it was only the night your boyfriend of 7 years essentially told you he didn't love you anymore. no big deal. you were 21 now, and you could do cool things and work, and stuff. how cool is that? how cool are you? too cool to be still caring about your ex-boyfriend. your very handsome, attractive, professional football player ex-boyfriend, who was on the cover of every sports magazine, and the headline of every news channel. you wonder, as you walk in, how many of the people under the roof of the venue know his name. how many who'd probably kill for a signature. you wonder what they'd think if they knew you used to be the one to love him.
pause. why were you thinking about this? you don't care, you definitely don't. you're done caring when he's probably already forgotten your name. god, you're supposed to be 21. you're 21, and you still feel like you're 18. you're 21, and you still feel like you're 11. at what point are you meant to grow up and get over it all?
you shake your head and your older colleague ms. sato gives you an amused look. "something wrong, dear?"
"nothing," you smile at her awkwardly, "just a little nervous. i've never been out on a company event before. who else is going to be here?"
ms. sato tsks and thrums her fingers against the wrinkled skin of her other hand. she's wearing a conservative green velvet dress. you think she looks pretty. "i think more sponsors will be there. and i'm sure they've got some sports folk, too."
you purse your lips. the venue is big, and ornate, you see as you open the door for ms. sato and walk in behind her. red and gold walls, chandeliers, a regal display of wealth that you most definitely could not live up to if you were here on your own dime. and the dining hall is no different. tables with nameplates written in some fancy scrawl that you can barely read spell out your name and ms. sato's name across from each other towards the front of the hall. out of curiosity, your eyes flicker to the seat to your right.
and your heart stops in its chest.
in that same hardly legible font, reads a name that is all too familiar. it's nearly the same as the name you'd scrawled on love letters in junior high, and nearly the same name as the contact you used to text every single day and every night. it's nearly the same name you'd call out at airports, looking, always looking, forever longing to be around him. the name on the nameplate reads 'itoshi rin.'
"are you sure nothing's wrong? you look pale." ms. sato's voice cuts through your thoughts, you clear your throat. "of course. it's nothing, ms. sato."
you pull her chair out for her before taking a seat in your own, as the room starts filling in and someone says something about a prepared meal being served at 8 on the dot, and announcements starting soon after that. you feel frozen in your seat as you fidget with your hands in your lap. you're paralysed with fear, too scared to check if the name next to rin's is sae's. it couldn't be, right? because they fell out. just like you and sae fell out. they wouldn't attend the same event. plus, sae's always thought that events were boring. fancy dances, fancy dinners, they were all the same— all wastes of time. he wouldn't be here.
it hits 8. you think you could maybe handle rin— but he doesn't show. dinner is served, and the two seats to your right remain empty. and you are so, so relieved internally because who are you kidding, you couldn't deal with rin, let alone sae.
you see his face everywhere, and that's enough. magazines, underwear ads, video edits, all of it. his fans are everywhere. like he's some kind of hero, and you guess he is when it comes to football. you wonder who he's kissed since you. unless what was a weird thing to think about your exes. in that case, you don't wonder that at all. and you never have, not for a second.
it's 8:05. still, no one has shown. at 8:10, the owners of the stadium give some speech about investments, and blah blah blah, are you meant to know or care about any of this? because you don't know, and you don't really care. you're much too focused on the food, and the stress, and all that. 8:20, speech is over. 8:30, people start socialising. 8:35, drinks are brought out with a second course. 8:40, with a little champagne in your system, you're feeling pretty good, actually. less nervous, for sure. if rin hasn't shown yet, he isn't going to. and sae? that was basically fully off the table now.
8:45. you feel better than fine, now. 4 champagne flutes down (because ms. sato doesn't drink, but felt bad saying no when they were offered, and she thinks you'd be a funny drunk) and you wonder why you've ever felt nervous in your life, ever. stress was a thing of the past. ms. sato laughs at you when you make a face at something someone annoying and snotty says, and she slaps your back and tells you she's going to the restroom and to make sure you don't die while she's gone.
8:50. the door to the banquet hall must've opened at some point, but you didn't notice until the chair to your right slides out. your heart sinks before you even see him. because itoshi rin, in the flesh, takes the chair next to you.
you haven't seen him in years. not since your 18th birthday, you think— because his mother had made you a cake and forced him to tag along to drop it off for you. he'd told you happy birthday, and you'd teased him about how you remember he used to have big cheesy smiles and bigger cheesier dimples when he was just a little baby, and he'd scowled and told you that he's 15, not some kid. how old was he now? if sae was 21, then rin would be 18. you've seen him places too, on advertisements for some football program, on sellouts for cologne and such. he's made a name for himself. for himself, not his brother and himself. you'd find it in yourself to be proud if you weren't a little drunk and a lot sad.
maybe he catches you staring from the corner of your eye after he sits, because he glances over and does a double take before looking straight ahead like he's in the army and his commanding sergeant's just told him to look alive. you worry at your lip with your teeth. you'll regret this in the morning. "rin? 's that you?"
he stiffens. you try not to giggle, and you think you fail. "yeah."
"i hope this isn't weird. do you remember me?" it's more of a question to yourself than anything. but he answers, because it was said out loud so he probably thought you were talking to him and not to your own brain. hm. maybe you're drunker than you thought.
"yeah." his response is terse and awkward. but then he says your name. and you remember his little voice a hundred times higher, and you remember tears in his big toddler eyes webbing his lashes as he cried your name about a scraped knee. you soften. "i've missed seeing you. how've you been?"
he looks nervous. does he look nervous? or do you just think he looks nervous? he opens his mouth, then closes it, then replies, "good. i didn't know you'd be here."
you smile amicably. oh, you love this boy, love him like he's your sweet little brother even now. "i'm representing my company. they— or, we— are investors. i'm here as my mentor's rubbish bin for food and drinks she doesn't want, basically."
rin snorts. you want to pinch his cheeks. would he be mad if you did? probably. "well, i—"
the seat next to rin's slides out. another full champagne flute is placed in front of you and instead of thanking the waiter, you feel sick to your stomach. junior high dance sick. senior year prom sick. you're sick.
itoshi sae sits one seat away from you.
you're sick, to your stomach. you're silent and stiff and stupid, so stupid, because you thought you were over him. but this is the first time you've seen him in person since the year 2017, when he flew out to be your date to your school's prom, and then flew away that same night and never came back. you down the champagne and close your eyes. you're 21, not 18, not 11, you're 21.
you're 21 and itoshi sae's still got you acting like a fool.
the rest of the dinner is awkward and silent, at least for you. ms. sato shows up and strikes up a conversation with anyone who would listen, and rin listens, and you can't look at sae so you don't know what he's doing. but you can imagine him sitting there, bored. why was he there? rin and him don't talk anymore. or do they? it's been years, after all. you guess they've made up. your stomach churns. ms. sato notices but doesn't say anything, not until after the dinner ends and you practically race out to the company car without another word to rin, just a quick, tight, smile. over his shoulder, before you leave, you see a mess of reddish-brown hair. you think you might be sick. you hope there are barf bags in the car.
"now, dear, what is wrong with you?" a patent red leather handbag slaps your lower back as you wait outside for the driver to show. ms. sato gives you a look.
you blink a few times. "did you just hit me? that hurt, i think."
"answer the question, child."
you wince. "the boy next to me was like, my, like, brother-in-law but not actually."
ms. sato raises a brow. "itoshi rin? the professional football player?"
you nod fervently. "yes. him."
"so.. you used to date itoshi sae?"
you look at her blankly. "how did you know?"
"they're famous, dear."
"oh," you wrinkle your nose, "right."
ms. sato chuckles. "well, we've got time to talk. tell me the story."
and you tell her. you tell her everything, and a little more. about ice cream, and your 18th birthday cake, and his mom, and his hands, and the way he used to love you and the way he just stopped one day. normally, you wouldn't run your mouth like this, you'd like to think. you're more refined. but the drinks you've had are working hard, and your emotions are working harder, and oh, you're a mess. at least you don't look like one tonight.
ms. sato listens patiently. or maybe she's just doing this to laugh at you about it later. but she listens either way. she smiles at some parts and frowns at others. but when you're done vomiting up all your words and all your feelings, she just sighs. "7 years is a long time."
you blink. "yeah. i guess so, yeah."
"and so is 18."
"excuse me?"
ms. sato chuckles. "you said you've known him since you were babies. it ended when you were 18. you said you loved him until you were 18."
"oh. i did. yeah."
"and 21 years is even longer."
now, you're really confused. "21?"
"21. because you've loved him since you were babies, and it never really ended."
oh. oh, okay. you don't know how you feel, not in the slightest. you're confused and you're nervous, and you shouldn't have eaten all that food because now you might actually throw up instead of just feeling like you're going to throw up.
and then someone calls your name from behind you.
the voice is familiar, and you turn without thinking, of instinct. because you'd always go to him, no matter what. and that scares you, and you're even more scared because you haven't seen eyes that blue in forever.
"sae." you try to keep your voice curt and calm. he's in a suit. it's a good one. tailored. and he still looks young, and handsome, and like your lips would fit perfectly against his, and like your hand could feel right holding his, and all that. and you're so, so scared.
ms. sato excuses herself in the background somewhere, and all this is eerily familiar. people in dresses and suits, leaving. cards driving away. your heartbeat in your ears. it's all familiar.
he takes a step closer. you take one back. he stops, stares, and says, "how've you been?"
you know him well. you know this man far, far too well. you recognise the clench of his jaw and the set of his brows. something like determination paints his face. you'd be more confused if you weren't so nauseous.
"good," you test your voice, continuing when you hear it hold steady, "i'm good. and you?"
he opens his mouth to reply. but you open your mouth again. because you can't seem to do anything but run your mouth today, it seems. "actually, i was hoping you wouldn't be here. really, really hoping. because," you laugh, "i did not want to see you today. or ever again, really."
sae's expression would be unreadable to anyone but you. but you can see it. he's hurt. and you laugh again because god, what does he have to be hurt about? you continue, "i was fine with just seeing the magazines, and ads with you half-naked, and all that. and i was fine with hating you for hating me. but now you're here and it's all different and wrong, and i'm so mad at you right now, and i was fine an hour ago before i even knew you were going to be here. i was so fine."
he blinks. "are you drunk?"
snorting laughter, you turn your head. you can't look at him. you can't tell how you're feeling anymore. "sure i am. the drinks were free."
his eye creases in a tiny smile and you'd swoon if he wasn't the same person who'd broken your heart after he'd held it in the palm of his hand.
you wonder what he's going to say. would he tell you you're being dramatic and making a scene? that one was likely. would he sue you?maybe. maybe he'd kick you. maybe you'd throw up on him. maybe he'd cry. you smile a little— you'd like that, actually. would be funny. you'd enjoy it.
"i'm sorry."
you must be making a face. you must look confused, or disgusted, or disgruntled, because he explains, "for vanishing."
itoshi sae apologising was not on your list of possible responses. you are at a loss for words. but you find them after a beat of silence, "you're sorry?"
he shifts uncomfortably. "i am."
scoffing, you roll your eyes. "funny."
"i'm serious." sae steps forward again. you don't back away. you can't, and he continues:
"i left you. and that was," he pauses and breathes, "the worst thing i've ever done. every day since then, i've missed you."
sae really hasn't changed, because that's all he says. so blunt, so forward, so harsh. never any room for detail, or explanation. never any time. you're silent so you think he might take that as a cue to keep going.
"i fixed things with rin, too," he says, "and i wish i could say it was out of the kindness of my heart but it was because you always told me i should. you've always made me better. and i—"
"you couldn't stand that." you're so angry. at him, for coming back and apologising like it was all a small deal. you're angry at ms. sato for getting you drunk. you're mad at yourself, for loving him so much even though it's a weak excuse of an apology. "oh, you couldn't stand that i was making you kinder, or better. you never wanted to be good. you've been horrible, always, probably."
and then you stop. "no. no, no, i'm sorry. i don't— i don't think that—"
"it's okay. however you feel about me.. it's okay. you can hate me. it's okay."
and your resolve crumbles.
"i could never hate you," you whisper, "because i love you so much. always have, for so many years and however many days, and i've loved you when you were good or bad or both, or neither, and i'm so mad at you because i never stopped, even when you hurt me. even then."
sae is silent. you are too. people move all around you. they're not listening, they have places to be. because you're 21, and they're all older too. and they have things to do.
"you still love me?"
he sounds quiet, almost. meek, maybe, if that was a thing that he was capable of being. you are doing your best to hold in tears.
"yeah," you say, "yeah, i do."
sae looks at you. "i've never stopped. i never could. i tried. but i never stopped loving you. and i've never been good at showing it, but it's the truth. and i'll be sorry forever, if you'll let me."
this is so unlike him. but people change, and you suppose you've been too separated to know anything as of late. your heart aches. his eyes are still the same. his voice is a little deeper. his shoulders look more broad. you think you're in love again. you think you never stopped being in love. you know it.
"so show me."
and sae kisses you. you hadn't forgotten how good a kisser he is but you think he's gotten better, as his hands find your back and yours take his jaw. maybe he's kissed other people since you. now you're mad again so you kiss him harder, and deeper, and you would usually have more decorum but it's sae and he's famous so if he doesn't care, why should you?
there is so much left unsaid. a hundred things. a million, maybe, a billion. he will spend his life making this up to you. you know he will. but for now, there's no hurt. for now, there is just love that has been cut off for far too long. for the first time in years, you're alive at this moment. you're 11, and 18, and 21, and you're everything that he's loved, and you're everything he's touched, and you are everything to him and you feel it. you deserve this. your blood runs hot, his tongue is in your mouth, you need this. and you love him. you love him to death.
this kiss is the summary of years waiting, and years longing. it's the summative point of ice cream and bike rides, and late night car rides and study dates, and running mascara and lonely nights. this kiss— it's been a long time coming.
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flowers chosen: pink camellia & lilac . . longing & joy of youth
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ziggyzolch · 1 month
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Queen Bee-atch Ⅰ (Regina George x Reader)
Summary: You, a self-proclaimed loser, are going into Junior year with one goal in mind: Avoid Regina George. Nobody notices you, so it shouldn't be too hard…right?
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Light seeps through the blinds and birds start to make themselves known with their melodic chirps. Aggressive rustling can be heard from outside your door as you throw a mini tantrum on your, now ruffled up, sheets. Sleepless nights weren't new to you, but they don't get any less frustrating. You stare at the ceiling for a good 30 seconds before finally pushing yourself off your bed. Walking to turn off the air conditioning, you trip over god-knows what and fall flat on your face. The first day of junior year and you're already contemplating ending it all, on the floor of your dump of a bedroom, laying next to a-
"My mascara!", you exclaimed as you sat up. You lost that thing ages ago. You get up, taking the mascara with you and make your way into the bathroom. Becoming a junior wasn't anything you cared for. After sophomore year, the illusion of high school you created in your head had melted away, leaving behind a hollow teenage girl that just wanted to get it over and done with.
Putting away your mascara, you catch a glimpse of yourself in your mirror. A bed-head ridden girl with deep eye bags, which only seem to become more obvious with each passing day, stares back at you. "God, I look horrific," you thought out loud. A habit, in hindsight, you needed to rid yourself of. Going through your morning routine, you think about the coming school year. 11th grade! Will this be the year you reinvent yourself? You could completely change yourself; The way you walk, talk, act, and dress!
...
Who are you kidding.
After successfully poking your eye with your eyeliner three times, you're done. You peak your head out your bathroom door, glancing at the cat-themed clock you've had since you were a baby. It's 8 am. Classes start at 8:15. Curses fall out of your mouth. Did time warp halfway through your routine or something? Running out of the bathroom you quickly change into your clothes, a worn out band T-shirt and black cargos. You can hear your mother cursing at you from downstairs as you make your way out your room. "You're going to be late on your first day, seriously?" Your mom deadpans as you reach the bottom of the stairs. "Whatever, mom, they don't even care."
Walking to school instead of letting your mother drive you was probably not the best idea, but you're too far from the house to care right now. You turn the final corner and arrive at your final location, North Shore High School. Approaching the doors, you can already make out two students face-mashing each other through the window.
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You've been a student at North Shore since freshman year, but anyone could mistake you for a new student, if they even noticed you that is. You pride yourself in being able to blend in with the crowd. This school was filled with losers, so you fit right in. They had already been assigned, so you made your way through the various cliques grouped up in the hallways and to your locker. As much as you hated this place, it's what you're used to. You'd have a hard time adjusting to a new high school, at least at this one you knew who to avoid. You don't even think about it anymore since you don't run into them much- nevermind. "Watch it, freak!"
Great, of anyone you could've bumped into, it's the queen bitch, Regina George. "Whatever." you mumbled and began to walk away when you were pulled back by your bag and shoved back into the lockers...hard. "This is the part where you apologize, Gerard Way." she spits at you while holding the straps of your backpack. A bit of black eyeliner and suddenly you're emo at this school. She was a couple inches taller than you, making it all the more embarrassing, looking up at her. Wriggling around proves unsuccessful. Is there a gym-bro buried beneath her layers of pink and pretty or something? Getting out of her grip doesn't seem like a possibility, so you begrudgingly mumble out a "Sorry..."
She stares at you for a few seconds too long.
"Uhm...can I go now?" You ask. "Yeah uh, sure, whatever." She finally lets you go and storms away towards her group of all-mighty "biatches", or "Plastics" as some (mainly Damien and Janis) call them.
So much for not being noticed.
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A/N: this is my first time writing, so any constructive criticism would be great! forgive any awkward wording or corny-ness. There are more chapters up on my wattpad and ao3, same username for both. @ziggyzolch
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goldenbuckyyy · 2 years
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YOU ARE IN LOVE
Summary: Confessions of love lead to a place you never thought you’d be.
Pairings: Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader
Word count: 6.6kish
Warnings: Idiots to lovers, SMUT (over 3k of it), oral sex (fem!receiving), raw sex, cream pie, multiple orgasms, undertones of Dom!Draco, pretty much making love
A/N: hi!!!! Omg, it’s finally here! Yay!! Here’s PART 4 of my Heather series. 🥺 my baby!! I’m so happy for this part. Hopefully you all enjoy. Please let me know what you think at the end!! I love them so much 😭💚 please read the first three parts before this one (linked below) Song for this fic: “You are in love” by Taylor Swift
Also hit 400 followers recently 🥺🫶🏻 thank you!!
All mistakes are my own. Please do not repost or translate my fics on any other side nor this one.
I appreciate any likes, reblogs, messages, and interactions.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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The cold November chill felt welcomed on your skin as you stood in the Astronomy tower. You overlooked Hogwarts with a smile, knowing this is the last Thanksgiving you’d ever spend here, but you didn’t feel sad right now. 
You felt grateful for your experience here because not many were that lucky. You had stayed for Thanksgiving break once back in your second year and it was magical. So beautiful. You loved it. Draco had stayed with you then. He never left you alone. 
But you were alone now. You knew he was back at the Malfoy manor. You watched him leave to catch the train just days ago. You pretended to forget something at the castle as your friends went to the train, but it was just an excuse so nobody would know that you were staying for the holiday. 
You didn’t want Draco finding out. You wanted to be alone. 
You slowly let your fingers run along the railing, the cold metal against your warm skin making you shiver slightly, and you tug your orange sweater over your palms to warm you up again. 
Today was Thanksgiving. One of your favorite holidays. You mostly enjoyed it because of the food. But truthfully, who didn’t? 
You were going to miss your mom's homemade Thanksgiving dinner. Especially the apple pie you and your dad always made for the holiday. But Hogwarts is going to have to make do. You’re sure they won’t disappoint. They never do. 
You had noticed there were a bit more students that had decided to stay. You were surprised to see so many students in your class. They probably wanted to enjoy their last Thanksgiving here as a student at Hogwarts. You were surprisingly happy to have chosen to stay. 
You start making your way down to the Great Hall for Thanksgiving dinner. Your belly is begging for food already. You only drank a warm cup of hot chocolate this morning because you loved to wait to eat until dinner time. That way you had more room for the feast. 
You had chosen to dress up today either way. You had paired your orange oversized sweater with a black skirt, it was one of those fitted ones that you really liked, black sheer leggings, and your pair of black booties. It was simple, but you felt pretty. 
You had even applied some makeup and styled your hair to your own liking. You even managed to find your cute pair of thanksgiving earrings. They were two little pumpkin pies. You thought it was hilarious when your mom gifted them to you when you were a kid. You’ve worn them every year since. 
You enter the Great Hall with a smile on your face, the different foods filling your space, you inhale deeply, almost moaning at the thought of eating already, and look around to see where you can sit. 
You spot the Golden Trio sitting down at the Gryffindor table. Talking amongst themselves enthusiastically and laughing. You noticed all the different students from different houses had all gathered at the same table. You smiled at that and made your way to Harry.
Ron notices you first, his elbow shoving Harry suddenly, Harry whimpering an “Ow!” He's about to shove Ron when Ron raises his eyebrows towards you, you’re still smiling as you walk towards them. Harry does the same thing he always does when he sees you. 
He sits up straighter, fixes his glasses, and smiles at you. 
“Hi, Harry!” You say as you reach them, standing next to Hermoine. Who has an empty seat next to her. She looks up at you, smiling, they all welcome you, “Is this seat taken?” 
“No, of course not!” Harry blubbers out with a rush. 
Ron and Hermoine snicker at his reaction, Hermoine places her hand on your forearm, “Sit, Y/N. You’re more than welcomed to join us.” 
You beam at her as you sit next to her. You both fall into conversation, completely forgetting about Ron and Harry, and gush about different topics. It was so incredibly easy to talk to Hermoine. Even Ron and Harry. 
They had even admitted to you a couple days ago that they were scared of you because of your friendship with Draco. You laughed loudly when they told you and teased them about it. You had even told them that Draco only puts on a front at them, but was truthfully a nice person. They were hesitant to believe you, but you didn’t force your words at them. 
Ron watches you and Hermoine with wide eyes, he looks at Harry, who looks about the same, “It’s like we don’t even exist, mate.” Harry hums in agreement. 
Soon enough, the long table is filled with the Thanksgiving feast. 
You gawk at the food in front of you. All the classics. The delicious looking turkey, the honey glazed pineapple ham, sweet potato casserole with brown butter on top, extra cheesy Mac and cheese, mash potatoes, corn casserole, and everything pumpkin flavored. 
Pumpkin pie, pumpkin juice, pumpkin cookies, pumpkin topping. It was overwhelming. 
You noticed your favorite butterbeer cookies eyeing you already. You reached over to grab some before they finished. 
You all start digging into the food, you enjoy a little bit of everything until you feel satisfied. 
The talks and laughter around you never stops. You feel happy with a belly full of food and a mouth filled with laughter. 
The Great Hall starts emptying slowly and you feel someone sit down next to you, you turn with a smile, and it doesn’t falter when you see Cedric. Dressed in his favorite Hufflepuff sweater and scarf combo along with a dazzling smile. 
You turn to face him, tilting your head on your arm, “Hi!” 
“Hi,” he chuckles out with crinkling eyes. 
You were happy that thankfully Cedric was okay with being only friends with you. It was a slightly awkward conversation the next night after what had happened she tween you two. Or what had almost happened. 
He had caught you on your way back to the Slytherin quarters, you had both gone to sit at one of the benches in the hall, and spoke openly about the past events. 
You apologized profusely about what had happened and he stopped you midway so he could apologize. He repeatedly asked you if you had felt he had taken advantage of you. With careful reassurance that you had consented to what had happened, every step of the way, and explained to him how you didn’t think it was fair to either of you to pursue something when your heart was truthfully with someone else. 
He didn’t ask who, but you knew that he knew. 
“How are you doing?” You ask him, nibbling on a butterbeer cookie. 
“I’m doing alright, are those good?” He questions curiously, you had him a piece, and he chews on it and rolls his eyes back, “Bloody brilliant, yeah?” 
“Indeed,” you hum back with a chuckle. 
Easy conversation flows between you two about the end of the semester and how lovely it is to be here for the Holidays. You both agreed that it was the right choice to stay here and that maybe you’d both stay again for Christmas. You had never stayed for Christmas and the Trio said they were going to stay as well. 
“I’m staying then,” you state happily, sipping on your pumpkin juice, and laughing at Ron’s comments to Hermione about something ridiculous. 
Hermoine nudges you suddenly, you look at her confused, her face falling as she’s looking towards the Great Hall double doors, and you turn quickly to see what’s she’s looking at. 
You feel your heart drop to your stomach when you see Draco standing there. He’s wearing his sweater, your favorite one, black slacks, and you notice his hair is loose and framing his forehead in curls. 
His eyes are already on you. 
You furr your eyebrows in confusion as you wonder what he’s doing here. You look around at your friends, who are looking at you in confusion, only knowing the bare minimum of what you had told them. But they knew something was going on between you two. 
“Excuse me,” you say quickly, grabbing your extra butterbeer cookies, and walk towards Draco. 
He waits for you at the entrance and immediately follows you as you walk out. 
You stop in the empty hallway, “What are you doing here?” You question him as you try to keep your voice steady. 
You fumble with the cookies in your hand, not wanting to look up at him, and he sighs deeply above you. 
“My mother told me you were spending the holiday here. Why didn’t you tell me? You could’ve come home with me.” 
You huff, “No, I couldnt.” 
“Why not? Because we’re in a fight?” Draco’s tone is not harsh, but in disbelief. You avoid his gaze and look to the side. 
“It doesn’t matter if we’re in a fight. You’re my best friend and I don’t want you to be alone on one of your favorite holidays.” 
“I’m not alone…I’m with my friends,” you reply quickly, brushing your hair away from your face, and trying to keep your heart from racing. 
“And what am I?” 
You finally look up at him when he says that. His gray eyes peering at you, his lips turned down into a frown, and he waits for your reply. You notice his fingertips are itching to grab your wrists. His hands go into tight fists to keep them to himself. 
Your heart skips a beat because you miss him so much. It’s only been over a week that you’ve spoken to him. Been in his bed. 
But it feels like a lifetime and it’s slowly killing you. 
You tilt your head to the side as you watch him, the corners of your lips frowning, your eyes taking him in, “You’re… you’re my Draco.” 
You both start casually walking down the hall, you both on instinct go towards the peach three in the courtyard, and you both sit down on the bench under the tree.
You shiver slightly as the cold wind brushes against your warm cheeks and Draco silently curses at himself for not bringing a coat with him to the Great Hall. 
You turn to face him, still holding your cookies in your hands, and look at him. Your heart feels heavy as you both stare at each other. 
His eyes look into yours with such sadness in them that it makes you want to curl into a ball and weep. You feel yourself starting to shake slightly because of how nervous you feel. 
Is this the end? The real end between you two? 
“Hey,” his voice startles you, soft and sweet, his hands finally inch towards you, and he takes your free one into his warm palms. His big hand covering yours completely. 
“Why are you shaking? It’s just me,” he whispers as he pushes a stray hair away from your face, his thumb caressing your cheek slightly, you feel yourself flush underneath his gaze, and you shuffle on the bench. 
“I feel this way because of you,” you admit, not breaking eye contact with him. 
“I…” Draco starts to say, but quickly stops talking when he notices a couple people walking around the halls and chatting in the corridor as well. 
He doesn’t let go of your hand, “We should go somewhere more private.” 
“Like where?”
He opens his mouth, but closes it. His jaw locks, his eyes slowly avert from yours, but then he looks back. Your eyebrows raise in confusion as you wait for him to speak.
“What about my room?” His voice filled with uncertainty. 
You still. You haven’t set foot in his room since the argument you last had in there. You hadn’t even bothered to go and get your things that you had left there. You hadn’t wanted to face him yet. 
A part of you wants to go back in there. You miss the warmth and comfort you felt there. 
Lately, all you’ve felt is loneliness as you sleep alone every night in the empty bed in your big room. 
The emptiness of his side next to you never left your mind. You find yourself nodding, he gets up, you follow, and he leads you towards his room. 
He stops in front of the door after walking up the steps, you behind him, and he whispers his password to the painting in front of the door. 
He whispers your favorite spell.
Your heart tugs a bit that he didn’t change it. You know it hasn’t been that long, but it’s been the longest time the both of you have gone without each other. 
He opens the door and the sweet smell of apples mixed with cinnamon and vanilla fills your senses. You let your eyes close slightly, inhaling the mesmerizing scent, and you follow him inside his room. 
He walks around the room and you stand near the door, feeling a bit awkward, not knowing what to do anymore in this room, and you watch him. 
He peers at you as he sits in his emerald green loveseat, he gestures to the matching chair in the corner of the room, and you start walking towards it. You glance around the room, taking notice that all your belongings are still in the same place, and you wish they weren’t. 
You secretly wish he had already packed up your belongings into a box to make this easier. You sit down and set your cookies onto the table in between you two. 
“Do you want some tea or coffee?” He asks as he’s about to stand up to make some. 
“No, it’s okay.” 
He pauses and sits back down. He turns his body towards you, his leg bouncing up and down, and he lets out a deep sigh. 
A couple minutes pass with you both sitting in silence. You gulp down your nerves and open your mouth to speak. 
“Draco?” You ask. 
Your voice fills his ears like sweet honey. “Yes?” 
“Why am I here?” You question him as you let out a sigh. 
“I’m a coward,” he blurts out, turning his face to look at you, you frown. 
“What?” 
“I am a coward. Draco Malfoy is a coward.” 
You adjust yourself into your seat, placing one leg underneath your bottom, and fully face him.
“Draco,” you say, reaching over to him and taking his hand in both of yours. “What are you talking about?” 
His hand grips yours, “The last time you were here… You, uh, you asked me if I ever thought about doing.. what we do… with, umm, someone else.” Your eyes furr because Draco is fumbling with his words and he never does. 
“I remember,” you tell him, a pang in your chest when you remember what he said after you asked him that last time. 
“Well.. I.. I, uh, I lied to you.” 
You sit up straight. His eyes racing over your face, taking in your different expressions, “I know I insinuated that I thought about doing that with Heather, but I lied. I’ve never thought about doing what we do with anybody else. Ever.” 
You scoff at him, not believing him, “What are you going off about, Draco? You’ve fancied Heather since the day you met her.” You try to pull your hand out of his, but he grips onto it.
“I told you that day that I never thought about doing this with someone else and I meant it. I know I said I fancied Heather, but I swear.. I… I never have.”
“You lied to me?” You say in disbelief. A part of you wanting to be happy that he never fancied her, but why did he lie to you?
“I… I did.” 
“Why? What are you saying?” You pull your hand out of his with force, standing up quickly and starting to pace around the room, as the memories of that conversation fill your mind. 
Draco sits up in the loveseat, facing you, and pouting. 
“I asked you if you felt anything for me! I asked you if I was more than just your friend! You didn’t say anything! I gave you a chance to say anything, to say something, and you bloody stayed quiet! You never said anything! And then I’m with Cedric that night and you burst into his room, demanding I go with you, and for what? For you to never say anything else to me? Then we didn't talk for almost a week and now… now… now you want to say something? Why?” 
You continue to pace the room, confusion filling you, and you stop in front of him. Hands on your hips, chest raising angrily, and you watch him. 
He doesn’t say anything, biting the skin around his fingernails, and he bites his lower lip with nerves. 
“What’s going on, Draco? You’re confusing me,” you cry out at him.
“I am a coward that didn’t see what was in front of him until it was too late,” he stands up, towering over you, taking his hands in his, and you both look into each other’s eyes. 
“I am in love with you,” he confesses in a whisper. You suck in a gasp, your world stills at his words, and you start shaking your head. 
You frown deeply, “Stop it.” 
Draco grips your hands in his tightly, “This… this thing between us started in fifth year.. we were barely fifteen years old. We both decided to do this, but a part of me only agreed because I wanted you to want me the same way I’ve always wanted you,” you mouth parts in shock, “A part of me has always loved you. I… I think I’ve always known that I have, but I’ve always been a coward at admitting it to myself. That was almost four years ago next year… And… my-my love for you has only grown.” 
You feel tears welling up in your eyes as you stare up at him, trying your hardest to wrap your mind around his words, and you let the tears fall down your cheeks. 
“Please, don’t cry,” he whispers as his thumb wipes away your tears gently. 
Your lips quiver, “I… I’m having a hard time believing you, Draco.” Your confession stuns him, he looks at you with confusion. 
“Wh-what?” His voice is shaky. 
“What about Heather?” 
His eyes darted away from your face for a second, “I… I, um, I made it up.”
“You what?” You feel different emotions filling your body. Confusion at his confession. Anger that he lied to you. Happiness because he feels the same way. Guilt for what you had done with Cedric. 
“I didn’t lie when I said I met Heather because of my mom in the summer. But I’ve never felt anything towards her. Ever. I only said that to you because I was hoping to make you jealous,” another confession slips his lips. 
“To… make me jealous?” You repeat his words, feeling distress. 
He nods, his body language showing you he’s ashamed of his actions, and he sighs. “I… I know my actions are confusing you.. and I know you might need some time, but…” he pauses and his palms cup your face gently, “I am in love with you.” 
Your breathing is picking up, you’re looking at him in shock, everything you’ve ever wanted to hear… he’s saying it right now. 
“I’m so in love with you that I was deeply afraid of letting you know because of the fear that you didn’t feel the same way about me. But if I would have just looked deeper… I would have seen and heard what you were trying to tell me…” 
“And what was that?” You whisper out, your hands slowly moving to palm his hands on your face. 
“That you’re in love with me too,” he pleads, voice wavering with hope. 
“Draco,” you whisper, tears falling down your cheeks, closing your eyes as you let a whimper fall out between your lips. 
“Do you not believe me?” He questions, hurt filling the room. 
You sniff as you lean your face into his palms, crying out, “Can you blame me?” 
Before you know it, you feel Draco’s hands leaving your face, you look for his hands, and he’s kneeling in front of you. 
“What? Draco, what are you doing?” 
He holds your hands in his, his knees touching the floor, he lets out a quiet cry. 
Your heart breaks at hearing him cry. 
“Y/N…” he begins, “Its always been you.” He looks up at you with tears in his eyes, “I have always loved you, never anybody else. I swear it. I have never once felt the way I feel for you for anybody else. Never.” 
He grips your hands in his, kissing the palms of your wrists, “You are the only one I’m ever going to want.” His voice is shaking, “It’s you who I want next to me. Warming my bed, forever. You’re everything I want. Everything!” 
You both are staring at each other, crying together, he continues, “I know I’m a bloody fucking idiot for not saying this sooner and I know it’s hard to believe me right now after everything… but I’m so in love with you that merely thinking about anybody else… It sickens me. You are the only person that matters to me. You’re the only one I see in my future.” 
You fall to your knees in front of him, your arms wrapping around his neck, his hands gripping your waist so your knees don’t hit the floor as he tugs you into him, and you cry. 
“Draco, I…” your lips quiver, “I’m so sorry for what I did with Cedric. I… I thought you didn’t feel the same way and I just wanted to forget about you.” 
Draco shakes his head rapidly, “Don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong. I was a coward and you were just trying to move on from my bloody dumbass.” 
You let out a giggle at his words, you wipe his tears away from his face as he wipes away yours, “I’m in love with you, too.” You confess, your heart rate accelerating at saying those words out loud. Finally. 
His eyes lighten up at your words. 
“I’ve always loved you. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. It has been hell without you since our last argument and I never want to go through that again.” You lay your head on his shoulder, sniffing and whimpering into him, and he holds you in his arms tightly. 
“It won’t ever happen again, I swear.” 
“I love you,” he whispers into your ear as his hands tangle into your hair. You scruff your head onto his shoulders, taking him in, and breathing in his warm scent all around you. 
You both lean out, his forehead on yours, your eyes are closed, you can feel his heartbeat against you, and his breathing increasing slightly. 
One of his hands grasp your neck, you lean up to look at him, his eyes wander your face and land on your lips. Your hands are holding onto his biceps as one of his free arms wraps around your waist, gently and with hesitance. As if he’s scared to touch you. 
“I’ve missed you terribly, my love.” 
You lick your lips, “I missed you more.” You let your gaze stop on his lips, he parts them open, and you both start leaning into each other. 
You met in the middle, your lips centimeters apart, you can smell his mint breathe, and you shiver at being this close to him again. 
“Draco,” you whisper out as you close your eyes, letting your body melt into his, and he pulls you into his space with his arms. 
His lips touch yours gently, you whimper at the feeling as fire erupts in your belly at the contact, goosebumps breaking out over your skin, and your eyes flutter closed. 
You move your arms to wrap around his neck as your lips move against his, it’s as if you’ve never been apart, and you feel fuzzy like you always do when you kiss him. You feel your body already reacting to his touch and you cry out for him. 
Draco’s tongue slowly lines your bottom lip, you part your mouth open for him, and your tongues meet in the middle. You both moan simultaneously, one of his hands gripping your waist, the other on the back of your neck, and you grip your arms together around him. You lean up to kiss him harder and he bites your bottom lip which causes you to whine loudly. 
You pull away from him, his mouth sucking on your lip, and you groan against him. His hands move towards the end of your sweater, you feel him hesitate, and you look at him with a small smile. Feeling your skin flushed. 
“I trust you,” you breathe out, his eyes flutter, and he smiles sweetly at you. He wraps his lips around yours once more, his hands inch underneath your sweater, and your skin feels as if it’s on fire. His big warm hands on your skin making your belly erupt with butterflies. 
“God, I’ve missed your skin.” He starts to kiss down your neck with big open mouthed kisses, leaving love bites down as he goes, his eyes looking up at you with pleasure, and you moan with every kiss. You grind your hips against his, your hands clinging onto his shoulders, and you pull away from him. 
You stand up quickly, pulling him up with you, and you both stand in front of each other. 
You take one step back, letting yourself take him in, the big dent in his slacks making your mouth water, and you reach down to tug off your sweater. 
You throw it to the side, letting him look at your chest, your breasts are covered with a lacy black bra, and you're both breathing heavily. You kick off your boots with ease, he follows your lead by tugging off his sweater, and unbuckling his belt. 
You both hold eye contact as you lower down your skirt and him his slacks. You lick your lips once you see him in only his tight black briefs, your mouth feeling dry when he palms himself to try and relieve the pressure he’s feeling, he hisses at his own touch, you tighten your legs together for a second to slow down the throbbing you feel, and you slide your hands into your sheer leggings. 
You bend down slowly to pull them off your legs and you stand in front of him, holding the lace of your panties in between your fingers. 
Draco's eyes are taking you in, every single inch of you, and you don’t feel insecure under his stare. You missed the way he ate you up with his eyes, he’s biting his lips as his eyes go down to your breasts, your navel, and land on your most private area. 
You feel yourself wet with anticipation and want. 
“Lay down,” Draco orders, chills run down your spine at his tone, and your body follows before your mind can. You lay down on the bed, with your arms underneath you to hold you up, and Draco moves to hover over your body. 
You feel him against your thigh, hard, and you moan when he kisses your neck. 
His arms are caging you underneath him, “Can I touch you, baby?” 
You nod at him as you reach up to kiss his lips, slowly. 
His hand slips underneath your torso, he unclips your bra, you let it fall over your shoulders, pulling it off your chest, and his mouth immediately meets with your already perked nipples. 
You gasp when his warm tongue laps on your nipples, he moves between both of your breasts, his hands cupping each one of them, the moans you let out only fuels him, and he starts moving down your stomach. 
He lets his tongue swirl around your belly, licking your naval, and his hands grip onto your panties. 
He swiftly pulls them down, he sits on his knees with your legs on his shoulders, he pulls off your panties, he kisses the inside of your ankle, and you open your legs for him. 
Your hands grip your breasts as he admires you. You’re soaking and he knows it. 
He watches your glistening pussy underneath him, all for him, he moans at the sight, and curses. 
“You’re fucking beautiful,” he licks up your calf, bitting the inside of your thighs, and you whimper. His eyes are locked on yours, he’s making sure you’re watching him, and you bite your bottom lip when his mouth hovers over your pussy. 
“Dray,” you whisper, hitching your hips to him, and he tsks at you. 
“Always so inpatient,” he says with a chuckle, he lowers himself down flat, and spreads your legs wider. His mouth latches onto you, you moan out loudly when you feel his wet tongue on you, his tongue laying flat on your folds, then flicking up to your clit. 
You gasp sharply, your breathing increasing with pleasure, and you tilt your head back as your hands grasp onto his almost white locks. 
Your hips move with his mouth in sync, he licks and slurps your wetness, your clit throbbing against him, “I’ve missed your taste, princess.” His breaths on you, you move your legs onto his shoulders, and pull him down to you again. 
He continues to eat you up, he slowly lets a finger enter you, you cry out at the sensation, feeling yourself tight around his digit, and he works you open slowly. 
He groans against your pussy as he feels how tight you are around him, he couldn’t believe he had gone so long without you, and he inserts a second finger without warning. 
You gasp again, feeling yourself burning up as he opens you, his fingers curling inside of you is something you hadn’t realized how much you had missed, and Draco starts moving his hips into the mattress. 
Your mouth parts with pants as his fingers find your sweet spot, “Draco!” You breathe out with a moan, his tongue lapping your wetness faster, his lips wrap around your clit, sucking on it, your legs are starting to shake as you near your orgasm, and he increases his speed inside of you. 
His fingers keep fucking into you, his tongue licking you in the right places, and playing with your clit at all the right moments. 
“You’ve always tasted amazing, sweetheart.” Draco quickly says to you before he continues doing what he does best. 
You whine out, hands locked into his hair, your back arching up with pleasure, and he moves his free hand to play with your nipples. You tug onto his locks feeling yourself getting closer and knowing that’s the signal you use to tell him.
Draco moans against your pussy, sending vibrations to your clit, and you feel your lower belly start contracting with your anticipating orgasm. 
You feel tears in the corner of your eyes, your hips grinding against his mouth, and he curls his fingers inside of you one more time. 
“Draco!” You yell out in pleasure as your orgasm takes over you suddenly. His mouth latches onto your clit, sucking on it, your entire body shaking with euphoria, and Draco only slurps up all your wetness. 
Draco moans against your pussy, licking you slowly as you come down, your chest raising up and down to catch your breath, and Draco slowly pulls away from you. His fingers inside of you exit slowly and you bite your lip looking at him. 
Draco’s lips are swollen and puffy, he licks them and sucks his bottom lip, you reach down to him, pulling at him from his arms, and wrapping your lips around his. Moaning as you taste yourself on him. His hand wrapping underneath your neck, pulling your naked body into his, his warm-flushed skin feeling hot against you, and you both lean your foreheads together. 
You look down at his still covered dick and look into his eyes again. He waits for you to say something, his gray eyes looking beautiful, and you reach down to shove off his briefs. 
Draco moves one of his hands to help you, you feel his big dick hit your thighs, and you know he’s absolutely throbbing against you. 
“I can’t wait to feel you,” Draco whispers into your neck as he pumps himself quickly, you spread open your legs, placing your hands on his face, he aligns himself with you, you both stare into each other’s eyes, he rubs his dick up and down your wetness, hitting your clit gently, you moan, and then you feel him at your entrance. 
You’re both breathing deeply, his dick entering your folds, and you bite your lower lip. One of his hands underneath your waist and the other holding your face. It’s as if the world stills around you both. It feels as if it’s just you two at this moment. Just you two in this world and nobody else. 
Draco's eyes never leave yours as he slowly moves himself to enter you, you gasp at the feeling, he moans at your tightness around him, and his tip moves deeper inside of you. Slowly. 
You pull him closer into you, your pussy stretching around him, feeling so full once again, and you cry out to the missed feeling. 
His lips connect on yours passionately, “Always so fucking tight for me.” 
You nod at his words, kissing his lips, clenching around him, his mouth parting open on yours, you both letting out moans against each other’s lips at the pleasure, and he starts moving his hips against yours. 
“I’ve missed you,” you whisper against his lips, licking the inside of his mouth, rocking your hips against his, your noses nudging together, and he lets out a whimper as he bottoms out inside of you. 
“I’ve missed you so.. so, fuck, so fucking much.” His lips kiss your face, down your chin, and your neck. Leaving sloppy kisses all over you. 
He sucks on your collarbone, leaving more love bites because he knows you love to see them, and you roll your hips against his. 
His tongue swirls around your breasts again, your bodies moving together in sync, sweat already coating your skin, and his thrusting gets deeper inside of you. You feel so full right now. Feeling so full of Draco. 
Tears prick your eyes as you realize you are making love to Draco Malfoy. He’s making love to you. Maybe this isn’t the first time you make love, but it’s the first time you do after confessing your love to each other. 
Draco notices your tears, he kisses them away without pausing his motions, and whispers sweet nothings into your ear. 
“You’re perfect, baby. So fucking good for me. Like always.” 
He praises you, licking your earlobe and sucking on it, you grip the back of his neck as his words consume you, and you let the tears fall down your cheeks slowly. 
You moan out when he wraps one of his arms underneath your waist to hitch you up higher, his angle making his dick go in deeper, and all you feel is bliss. Blissfulness and love all around you. The room smells like vanilla, caramel, and sweet sex. 
His lips wrap around yours once again, your pussy squeezing around him, wanting to make him feel you, and he moans into your mouth. 
Draco swiftly switches your positions as he’s now sitting down on the bed, his legs parted open, you sitting down on him, hovering over his dick, and you align yourself again with him. 
Draco holds your hips with his big hands, looking down at himself as you reach down for him, you hold him steady while you lower yourself down into him. He’s watching himself enter your sweet pussy.
“Fuck,” he whispers at you, admiring the view. 
His hands grip your hips while you take him in, squeezing your walls around him, “Fucking shit.” He curses as he watches you take him in deep. 
You moan out, eyes rolling back at the sensation, setting your hands down on his shoulders to get a good rhythm, his hips moving into yours, and once you both get a good rhythm.. he pulls you into his lips once more. 
You kiss him, mouth open, both moaning together, your hips grinding down on his, feeling him everywhere, he’s filling you up so nicely, your breasts against his chest, his arm wraps around your waist holding you, and his forehead is against yours. 
In this position, you could feel him so deeply. Your walls contracting on his dick with every thrust, his moans as your clench only makes you wetter, and you both cry out at the feeling. 
His free hand moves in between the space of your bodies, his fingers inch towards your clit, and you whimper when you feel him touch your sensitive bud. 
“Draco,” you cry in a whisper, he slowly moves his fingers against you, kissing your neck, and you tilt your head back to let him. 
“Look at me,” he says, your body immediately reacts to his words, and you’re facing him. You look fucked and he loves it. He finds the most pleasure in making you feel this way. He loves it. 
You make eye contact with him, he licks his lips, and you don’t look away. You’re both panting together, bodies moving as if they are one, and you slowly start feeling the orgasm coming again. 
“I’m close,” you whisper, “Are you?” You ask him because you won’t come again until he does. He knows this. 
His hips are still meeting yours, soft and slow, but with so much passion. His dick hitting your soft spot inside of you, getting you closer to your release. 
He nods, kissing you slowly, and he increases his speed on your clit. You both keep staring at each other, panting only getting louder, whines getting closer together, your legs are shaking slightly, his hips are moving faster and sloppier, and you’re waiting for him to reach his orgasm. 
You feel your orgasm at the brink of taking over you when Draco orders, “Come for me.” 
Instincly, both of your hands intertwined together tightly. 
You cry out as your orgasm takes over your body, shaking entirely, his hips moving into you as he releases into your pussy at the same time you do, and you pull him into a kiss to ride out both of your orgasms. 
“I love you,” he whispers into your mouth, his hips still moving underneath you as you both ride out your orgasms, he’s filling you up deep with his cum, and you kiss him harder. 
“I love you. I love you. I love you,” you repeat into his mouth, tears running down your face, and you feel tears running down his as well. 
“It’s always been you. Always.”
You cry at his words, you both pull away from each other, foreheads leaning together, still connected, and feeling the post-orgasm bliss. 
You look into his eyes, wondering how you could never tell how much he loved you, and you smile at him with tears in your eyes. 
“You’re my best friend,” he admits with a smile. 
He’s so in love with you. 
You cry out a giggle, placing your hands on his face, kissing him slowly, “You’re my best friend.” You never thought you’d be in this situation.
Finally.
You can feel it all around. All you feel is love. Love between you and Draco. There’s nothing but silence in this room, but you know he feels it too. 
You’re in love with Draco Malfoy. 
And he’s in love with you. 
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Text
Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 40
Part 1 Part 39
Days pass, and Steve’s painkiller script runs dry. Without the pills, Steve’s every waking moment twinges, but what irks him more is the way his life is passing him by.
He spent almost a week in a painkiller haze of sleep, and now he’s awake and pissed off.
The swimming season is almost over, he’s going to be drowning in schoolwork, and he’s just sitting in the Munson trailer, rotting with Eddie by his side.
Will had gone back to school yesterday, and Steve’s itching to scrabble back into mundanity.
His doctor, Wayne, Eddie, hell even Joyce, all act like it’s too soon, like he’s made of crumpled paper, like he needs handled delicately or he’ll tear.
He’s sick of it. Steve wakes up, too early with the taste of ash in his throat. Eddie’s already awake, curling his fingers around Steve’s forearm and dragging him closer in his small shoebox bed.
“What day is it?” Steve asks.
Eddie squints at the clock, reading the vivid red 4:43 on the clock like it’s a calendar. “Thursday…” he says, voice ragged with sleep, trailing off, clearly unsure.
Steve stares up at the dark ceiling, doesn’t look at the glowing red, and says, “I’m going to school today.”
Eddie squeezes his forearm, says, “Steve,” plaintively.
“I can’t do this Eddie,” Steve whispers. He blinks and he’s there, staring up at the vines writhing on Eddie’s ceiling, the red of Eddie’s alarm clock pouring through the windows. He blinks again, and he’s back, Eddie’s warmth beside him. “I’m going crazy, cooped up in here.”
Eddie sighs, a long, dramatic groan that vibrates Steve’s head where it’s propped up against his chest. “I can’t believe you’re making me go to school, Stevie,” he says, trailing his fingers gently up and down Steve’s shoulder.
“Don’t you miss your friends?” Steve asks, pointedly not thinking of his own.
Eddie’s still rubbing Steve’s shoulder, as he replies, “Yeah. Jeff called a few days ago, and Wayne told him I had the flu.” He sighs. “I just hate lying to them.”
Steve’s relationship with Tommy and Carol is built on a bed of deflection and lies. No, what you said didn’t hurt my feelings. Of course, I want to throw a party and get stuck holding the bag when the cops show up. Yeah, my parents are out of town a lot, you’re right, it’s the best.
But sometimes, when Tommy was just the right level of tipsy, or late at night at one of his sleepovers with Carol, one of them would say something real. Carol would whisper about the diet her Mom was on, how her bones were that of a bird and Carol was so afraid of being whittled down to nothing. How Tommy’s dad had hit his face hard enough to bruise, and then gotten made that he looked like a ruffian the next day.
How Steve’s parents don’t stick around long at all.
Those are the people he misses. The people left rotting in the corners of the ones who roam the halls of Hawkins High. That’s not who he’ll get to see at school today.
“They’d understand,” Steve says. “If they’re your friends, they’d understand.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Eddie says, letting the topic drop.
Wayne grumbles over his mug of coffee when they stumble out of Eddie’s bedroom, both dressed in Eddie’s clothes, but doesn’t say much. They share a quiet breakfast, as Wayne scarfs down his meal before bed, drooping into his plate.
Eddie rifles through the whole trailer until he finally finds the van keys discarded in the bathroom. Wayne sends them off with a gruff, “come home if ya get tired,” as they walk through the door.
Steve doesn’t notice he doesn’t have any of his stuff until Eddie’s already pulling into the parking lot, students glaring and giving a wide berth to his van as it loudly chug chug chugs into a space.  
He can’t remember if he had any assignments due, what they were learning, barely even remembers his class schedule. It’s like everything from before has the haze of a dream. Only the nightmare of after is crisp and real.
The whispers as he stumbles out of Eddie’s van, start slow. They grow louder when Eddie rushes to the other side of the van, holding out his arm in an offer of support that Steve snubs.
Eddie walks by his side, leaning into him like he just can’t help himself. “You know,” he whispers conspiratorially. “It’s not too late to pretend I kidnapped you or something.”
Steve snorts, letting his elbow slide into Eddie’s ribs as he takes a step closer, even as the stares fillet his skin right open. “I’d make a terrible captive.”
Eddie laughs. “You really do,” Eddie says, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “Coming here against the doctor’s orders? Naughty naughty!”
Steve jams his elbow into Eddie’s ribs, hard this time, sending him reeling even as he laughs, clutching the abused spot.
No one approaches them, treating the whole spectacle like it’s a television show. Fascinating and untouchable.
But the bubble inevitably bursts. Tommy’s loitering by Carol’s locker, arm slung over her shoulder as she digs through its contents. She laughs, smacking his arm even as she smiles up at him. They look happy. Fine. Normal. Like Steve hasn’t been missed at all.
There’s something dark and slimy slithering up Steve’s throat. He swallows it down.
He keeps walking, Eddie by his side, not looking their way. So, it’s a shock when a small hand grabs his hand and yanks.
“What the hell, Steve?” Carol says, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Where have you been?”
“Nevermind that, what happened to your hair?” Tommy asks, laughing. Like Steve being missing is a joke. Like everything always is, with him.
“Just felt like a change,” Steve says, smiling sarcastically at them before trying to continue on his way.
Carol’s hand tangled in his sleeve stops him. He looks down at it. Her fingernails are turning white under her pretty pink nail polish. He sighs, stops, Eddie stopping beside him.
“I was in the hospital,” he says, meeting Carol’s eyes, pretending Tommy isn’t there at all. “Thanks for visiting by the way.”
She takes a startled step back, stretching Steve’s borrowed sweatshirt out with the way her fingers are still hanging onto it. As if she can sense people staring, she steps forward, holds her ground as she glares up at him, hissing, “we didn’t know!” she stamps her foot, loud with her clunky heels. “We went to your house, and no one answered!”
“And you didn’t think that was weird?” Steve demands. “You didn’t think, huh, maybe we should look for Steve? You couldn’t even pretend to give a shit?”
“Steve, I—” Carol starts, before Tommy interrupts her.
“So, what?” he demands, posturing into Steve’s space before Eddie throws out an arm, pushing him back. “You got your feelings hurt and you decide to start slumming it with the trailer trash?”
That dark thing slithers back up Steve’s throat. He pours it out at Tommy’s feet. “Anyone’s an upgrade compared to you,” he spits. “Poor little Tommy, has to make everything a joke so no one will notice there’s nothing underneath.”
“Steve!” Carol gasps.
“Oh, like you’re any better!” he says, something vicious and snarling crawling out of him. “Act like a bitch so no one gets any closer.”
“And what does that make you?” she demands.
“Steve,” Eddie says, pulling him back. “Let’s go.”
Steve looks at the two people who were his best friends and feels nothing. “You’re right,” he says, turning around and not looking back. “They’re not worth it.”
“Whatever,” Tommy shouts. “Just go off and fuck your new boyfriend, see if I care!”
People in the hallway are staring. Steve feels their eyes like fingernails down his face. Eddie takes a step away from him but doesn’t leave his side.
“Are you okay?” Eddie asks.
Steve nods, afraid he’ll spit up rage like bile if he opens his mouth. Eddie doesn’t leave him alone until he’s at the threshold of English class.
“I’m in shop,” he says, eyeing Steve critically. “Get me if you need me, okay?”
Steve nods.
“Promise me,” Eddie says, crossing his arms and staring Steve down. They both ignore the furtive look other students give them as they slip past to get into the classroom.
Steve chokes out, “I promise,” maintaining eye contact with Eddie until he finally turns and leaves with a strained sigh.
Once he’s out of sight, Steve runs on shaky legs, shoving through the nearest bathroom door and dropping painfully to the tile as he leans over the open lid of the toilet, stomach heaving.
It’s not rage that crawls out. Something small, and slimy, and black slithers out of his throat and into the bowl.
Steve flushes the bowl, washes his mouth out and goes back to class just before the bell.
Part 41
Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @1-8oo-wtfbro @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar
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luvyeni · 2 months
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❛LOVING THE COMMONER❜ ( k. sunoo )
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— authors note. i did it, i finally did another sunoo smut
p. prince!sunoo x commoner!reader w. 2.9k+
— 𖦹 warnings. modern royal au, bully!sunoo but he softens up, angst (gasps luvyeni😱), unprotected sex, fingering, public sex (?)
— 𖦹 ( after seeing you break down sunoo realized he officially crossed the line ) !
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The day they intergraded the royal kids and the common kids at the school was an interesting day to say the least — sunoo was a young prince; 8 or 9.
All he could remember was his parents, the king and the queen were not happy ‘why do we have to do this, they aren’t like us’ ‘because we have to show that we are with the times, the outside world thinks we haven’t progressed at all.’ And now at 18, sunoo could say that no, they haven’t progressed at all.
The school was intergraded so the common kids were free to go to a good school and get a good education — but that didn’t mean the royal kids made it easy for them.
Sunoo specifically made it harder for you— he hated you, and he made sure to tell you everyday when he cornered you in the hall; students and teachers walking past— I mean who’s gonna check the king’s son, the future king; besides you were just a commoner, in his eyes you should be glad he's even acknowledging you.
You didn’t want to go to the intergraded school — your mom a seamstress for the queen and your dad working as the cook at the castle, you kind of had no choice but to go, seeing the boy every single day— where he and his friends would subject you to their bullying, making fun of your dresses that were old and worn, or your hair that was sometimes messy from your morning chores at your house.
Sunoo specifically would always talk about how your whole family worked for his— “I don’t know why you’re trying to get a good education, we all know where you’ll end, cleaning my chambers when I become king.” Is what he would always tell you, laughing along with his friends as you picked your falling books off the ground.
“You could poison him.” Kyujin said, taking a bite of the food provided to you by the school. “I mean your dad is the cook.” You stared at her. “yeah, i’ll poison the future king and have my whole family killed.” She shrugged; “just trying to help.” You shook your head, standing up holding your full tray in your hands, not bothering to eat. “just eat your food, im gonna go to the study and get some work done.” You said, stood up with her face food. “wait i’ll come with you, for support.”
“hurry then.” You said, turning on your heel not knowing someone was behind you— not knowing he was behind you. “yn watch–” it was too late, you had crashed into the person, dropping the food all over you, the person in front of you; the tray hitting the floor. “what the fuck.”
You recognized the voice, cursing under your breath. “sun-sunoo im so sorry.” You always kept your eyes on the floor when talking to him— scared of what would happen if you looked at him in the eyes. “i-i wasn’t p-paying attention, it’s my fault.” Ready for one of his berating comments that would make the entire canteen laugh at you— but it never came.
Sunoo watched you smile and talk to your friend, laughing when she told a joke, your nose crinkling up, your smile bright— that’s what he hated, how happy and free you were, how you could always be so happy, despite your living situation, despite he and his friends torment— how he wish he could be like you, not having to please everyone— he wished you could talk to him how you talked to the teachers and other students— no he wanted you to like him how he liked you but hid it from everyone. “She’s leaving.” He sighed getting up, not even wanting to bother you today, but people expected it— and had to give the people what they wanted.
Looking down at your trembling body— he felt a pang at his heart— he did this to you, he instilled this fear into your heart, trying to impress people who he didn’t give a fuck about. He listened to his friends shout curse words at you with disgusted— how could he ever say those things to you, and you just took it, he felt so horrible. “That’s enough.” Hushed voices fell, leaving the canteen silent once again. “Yah.” You were ready for whatever he was gonna give you.
He grabbed your wrist, you felt it tightening. “come.” He dragged you away, leaving everyone with the suspense and your heart thumping out of your chest in fear, unaware on what he was gonna do to you— you two were never alone, his friends always behind him, so it frightened you even more.
He pulled you into the empty art room, closing the door. He turned stepping to you, you took a step back. “im sorry your highness.” Your upper lip trembled. “I don’t have any money to replace it, but my mom is a good cleaner as you know.” You pleaded. “please I didn’t mean any harm.” dropping to your knees, he took a step back, watching as you burst into tears. “please just don’t hurt me.”
He didn’t know what to do; he’s seen you cry, but this was new; you were having a full break down. “stop.” He said, but you didn’t hear him, your cries too loud. “I said stop!” he shouted, you bit your lip trying hold back the noise. “please stand up.” He said. “please.”
You heard his soft voice— something you’ve never heard before, slowly getting up from your kneeling position, standing in front of him, eyes glued to the floor. “look at me.” He said, you didn’t out of fear. “I said look at me.” He grabbed your cheeks, lifting your head, forcing you to look at him, you whimpered at the sudden force. “stop crying.”
“I’m not gonna hurt you.” He said. “I promise I won’t hurt you.” Before you could even react, you felt his arms wrap around your body, your eyes widened, body still nonreactive as you listened to his heart beat, surprisingly that calmed you down, your sobs, turning to sniffles— then you were silent, pushing him away. “what are you doing?”
He didn’t know what to say; he couldn’t explain why he hugged you, so he stood there silent. “please if this I just to tease me, just get it over with, I have to get to cook classes.” You said, voice barely a whisper. “I already said im not gonna hurt you.”
He took his handkerchief out his pocket— reaching his hands out. “it’s not a lot, but it’s all I have.” He said. “clean yourself up before you go to class.” He took your hand placing the fabric in your hand, you were so confused right now— what was his game. “wh-what about you?” you still were worried about him, even after all he did. “im going home, I don’t feel good anyway.” You normally wouldn’t think about it, he often left just because he could— who was gonna stop the prince from leaving?
He didn’t say anything else, walking to the door, turning back. “I wont bother you anymore.” He said, before walking out leaving you alone in the class.
That was the last time you seen the prince— he just stopped coming back to school, leaving people wondering what happened in that classroom that day. Many suspected you told on him, which didn’t help your case at all— you almost had to leave school due to the constant bullying from the other students who thought you ran the prince away— yeah it didn’t make sense to you either, but who was gonna think rationally when there’s someone to pick on.
You asked your parents did they see the prince when they went to work, but they just said he was sick and didn’t leave his chambers, so you left it like that, washing his handkerchief, keeping in your skirt pocket, just in case he’d come back to school.
“it’s been three months.” You were being cornered by one of the popular maidens in the school. “he still hasn’t returned.” She pushed you up against the locker. “he-he’s probably just sick.” You said, felling the lock dig into your back. “he’s fine, now I have to go.” You tried to walk away, only to be pushed to the floor, scrapping your elbow, making the arm of your dress tear. “if he was fine, he’d be here no?” she said. “and why are you so secretive about what happened in that room?”
Your silence made them angry, but you yourself couldn’t explain what happened. “answer me you bitch.” Her hand flew up, colliding with your cheek. “what happened in the class?” You looked for help— but was met with nothing but the looks of people who were also waiting for answer. “it’s none of your business.”
You heard him, the voice that you thought about for three months for some mysterious reason. “I was sick.” He said, the girl immediately exchanged her death glare with a soft and submissive one. “can I not be sick?”
She and her friends scrambled. “o-of course your majesty, but were just worried she did something— what could she do? Make me sick.” he looked at you. “stand up.” You don’t know why, but you did what he said, standing up. “apologize.” He said, her eyes widened. “sunoo, she’s a commoner.” He saw you frowning out the corner of his eyes, anger boiling within him. “so, she’s not like us, does that mean treat her like that?” everyone was shocked, this wasn’t the sunoo they knew, stepping to the guy, his eyes low. “now apologize.”
She turned to you. “im sorry.” She said, you could tell she wasn’t sincere, but you were so desperate to get out of there, you shook your head. “now go.” He said, and haul tailed out of there, whispering under their breaths. “everyone go to class, now.” He said, everyone immediately obeying, scurrying along to their schedules. “you stay.” He pointed to you— stopping you in your steps. “come with me.”
Those words felt so familiar, as you followed behind him, until you reached the infirmary. “your highness.” The nurse let you both in. “her arm is bleeding, fix it.” She nodded, ordering you to roll up your sleeve, cleaning up the blood, putting a bandage over it. “keep replacing the bandage until it heals.” She said. “good now leave us.” He said, she bowed, leaving you both. “are you okay?”
You nodded, silently. “that’s good.” He let out a sigh. “oh.” You said softly, reaching into your pocket, pulling out the handkerchief, handing it to him. “i-i w-washed it for you.” He looked down at the fabric, most people probably would’ve threw it away; or kept it as a keepsake from the prince. “I got all the stains out too.” He watched you smile proudly to yourself, smiling to himself. “thanks.”
“Are you okay, being sick for three months must’ve been hard.” He wasn’t really sick— he was embarrassed with himself, after seeing you break down like that, he went home and really thought about what he was doing, he felt like he could only show himself when he was ready to accept what he did and apologize to you. “im sorry.”
You were surprised; he stood in front of you head low, how yours normally was, eyes to the floor, apologizing. “im so sorry, i am such a horrible person, it took me too long to realize it, and I didn’t know until that day in the classroom.” He said. “seeing you break down because of me like that, made me realize how much of a horrible person I am.”
You stood there, letting him ramble. “please forgive me.” You were silent, sighing. “why did you do it?” he looked at you? “what did I do to you that made you treat me like that?” you wanted an answer, why did he treat you like that. “because I was jealous.” He said. “jealous?” you said. “you’re the future king, you said it yourself the only thing im destined for is cleaning your floors, so why would you be jealous of me?” he was silent. “answer me.”
“because you’re you.” He said. “you can be who you want , never having to be someone you’re not to impress people, — you’re nice to everyone and I wanted you to be like that with me, I wanted you to like me the way I like you, and I was afraid because I liked you so much and I was too worried about what people would think.” He confessed, spilling his guts on the floor.
You didn’t know what to say, it was a lot to take in, so you tried to run to the door. “wait.” He grabbed your hand, pulling you back. “please let me go.” You said. “what’s wrong, did I say something wrong.” He said. “yes, yes you did, please let me go.” You tried to pull away , but he was stronger. “what was it?” he said. “everything, you aren’t supposed to like me, all those maidens out there, im sure one of them would like for you to like them, go do that.”
“but I don’t want them to— yn please stop trying to run out the door.” He said. “you hate me that bad?” he said. “I never hated you, it was you who tormented me for years, now you stand in front of me, saying you only did it because you were jealous and liked me.” You said angrily, probably the most angry he’s ever seen you. “you didn’t even bother to ask me if I liked you back or not, because you were too worried about other people would think about the prince liking a common girl.”
You were going on and on— and he couldn’t help it anymore, grabbed the sides of your face, smashing his lips against yours— you grabbed his shoulders, pushing him away. “you’re a bad person kim sunoo.” You said. “I know.” He pulled you into another kiss, a much softer one, since this time you allowed him to kiss you. “im sorry.” He said, breathless, pushing you against the medical table. “im such a bad prince.” He said pushing your legs open, slotting himself in-between.
You shouldn’t let him do this, the way he treated you was unacceptable— but as his hands crept up your skirt, lifting it past your thighs, all your sensibility flew out the window. “sunoo.” You sighed as his fingers rubbed your soft clothed folds. “sun-sunoo.” He said nothing, pulling your undergarments to the side, sliding one of his long slender fingers into your dripping cunt. “fuck, you’re so wet.” He groaned, his forehead pressed against yours. “so warm.”
He slid another finger inside, scissoring you open, curling his fingers up inside you. “fuck sunoo.” You moaned out as his fingers repeatedly hit that spot over and over, making you see stars. “sunoo, im gonna cum.” You threw your head back, you looked so pretty, grinding your pussy down on his fingers, desperate trying to reach your peak. “fuck cum, please cum on my hand, I need to see you cum.” He encouraged. “cum for your prince.” He hit the right spot, that had you cumming all over his hand with a squeak. “fuck.”
You heard the shuffling of his belt of his expensive pants— they felt to his ankles, his hard cock jumping, the perfect size, not to big, not to small, his tip red and dripping with pre-cum— his cock was pretty and ready to fill you up. “ready?” you nodded, his held his cock in his hand, giving himself a few strokes, before pressing it against your hole, both of you letting out a moan of pleasure as he stretched you out perfectly. “fuck so tight.”
“please.” You moaned, as he sunk his cock further into you. “please fuck me, your highness.” that name coming out your mouth like that made his cock twitch. “fuck call me that again.” He groaned, as you repeated it over. “please harder.”
Knowing the nurse would come back, he wasn’t gonna waste time, wrapping your legs around him, fucking into you at a faster. “fuck sunoo!” you yelled, forgetting all about the outside. “we gotta keep it down -fuck- people can still hear your pretty moans from the outside.” He pressed his lips against yours, swallowing all your moans, your cunt clenching tightening around him— he wasn’t gonna last long.
“fuck im gonna cum.” He pulled away, lips swollen. “m-me too.” You moaned. “oh fuck!” he cursed, pulling out stroking himself as he came all over your pussy, bringing his fingers to your clit to finish you off. “sunoo fuck!” you gasped, cumming. “fuck I’m sorry.” He said. “I got too overwhelmed, next time I promise to let you finish first.”
He quickly searched for something to clean you, gently wiping the cum from your cunt and inner thigh. “next time?” you said, he hummed, smiling, something you’ve never seen him to you, it was nice. “but first im gonna get on your good side for good, by apologizing until you really forgive me, then im gonna court you.” He explained. “and what about the people, your dad the king?” you said thinking realistically.
He kissed your lips, pulling your skirt down, helping you to your feet. “he’ll deal with it or he’ll have to look for a new king to rule.”
“and those people out there don’t matter, now that im gonna do what I want for now on.”
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©️LUVYENI
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olderthannetfic · 7 months
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Being a trans man and not being an anti is also isolating, which is part of why I think trans guys gravitate towards either being an anti or reposting anti posts. If you're not an anti, you get booted from discord servers, blocked on social media at best or sent misgendering rape threats, death threats and suicide bait by other trans men at worst, and now that I'm in college I've found IRL that not being an anti makes a lot of people in queer spaces available to the average college student incredibly uncomfortable. So you have to either be entirely alone - which is very difficult when you're young, queer, and just coming into your own identity - or you have to be around it a lot without saying a word. Agreeing with it at first wouldn't even be necessary. You just have to not say anything against it, and then you'll be able to be around other people.
It doesn't help that most trans men who get sucked into anti circles are teens at the time. There's 501 proposed anti-LGBT laws right now, not counting everything that has passed, the majority of it anti-trans. If you're a teenage boy seeing all this transphobia on the rise, you're going to feel powerless. Bullying people like antis do makes you feel power over at least a few people. Being told you can consume your way into being a good person via media intake makes you feel like you have power and control over at least that.
I was sucked in incrementally because I wasn't exposed to the more violent antis who fantasized about murder and hurting people for writing fiction, I met my only friend - who was an anti - after my dad had beaten me for coming out as trans, and I was sixteen. I got out when I was eighteen because once I went to live with my mom, a psychologist, she gently corrected me when I would say things that aren't based in fact. She pointed out how upset these people were making me. She taught me how to fact-check claims and look into the veracity of claims.
And when I tried to convey to my friends that no, what they were saying wasn't supported, they turned on me. Including the only person who had been there for me when I was hatecrimed, who had reached out to me specifically because she met me what day. I lost every friend I had in roughly 30 hours.
If I hadn't had a really great mom, a very intelligent rabbi who's well-versed in psychology and is a former lawyer who saw the "fiction made me do it" excuse used to defend heinous crimes and doesn't buy it, and an older half-sister who lived through people calling her a psycho lesbian because she's a lesbian who played D&D, listened to metal and dressed Goth in small-town Montana in the 80's/90's, I would have probably killed myself. Having those three people who accepted me and did not accept this extremist rhetoric kept me sane and repaired my self-esteem enough to keep me going.
But a lot of people don't have three adults who are intelligent, supportive, and know better than to fall for this faux-psychology. A lot of people don't even have one. Often, they have unsupportive people who also believe firmly in the faux-psychology of "if you watch a thing you'll do that thing IRL". So there's not only no one hauling them out of this, it's getting reinforced.
Being a non-anti who is a trans man gets me a lot of shit from a lot of people online and offline. (As other anons have mentioned during the ace discourse, online talking points come up on college campuses and in real life, because the internet is not an alternate dimension, it is something being used by the people around you who exist in the same physical space as you.)
A reality that I don't think people want to discuss is that trans men, just like all other people of all other genders, suffer a lot of psychological distress if they're put in a position where they have no support. I sure as fuck wasn't happy being in a position where I went from having tons of online friends, discord servers I could hang out in and fandoms I associated with good vibes to none of that, plus harassment, plus massive misgendering.
It's a lot less awful of an existence to be a trans man and an anti when you're young and need community and support than it is to not be an anti and be isolated. And humans gravitate towards the least awful option 99% of the time.
--
Yuuup.
Having some kind of real support network, usually offline but at the very least not randos you met a day ago on discord, is vital and is the difference between not only whether you rot in a pit of antidom forever but in stemming the massive flood of trans teen suicides. The overall queer rates aren't great, but the specifically trans rates... they're bad. They're so, so bad.
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kiwisbell · 8 months
Text
Whiskey Sour
chapter four: between the sheets
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Reuniting with your estranged father while you finish college in Austin has unintended consequences. His best friend, for one.
series masterlist
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
rating: 18+ (mdni)
series tags and warnings: dbf!joel being extremely criminally attractive, big ol' age gap (40s/early 20s), unprotected piv (do not follow the leader), creampie, multiple sex positions, multiple orgasms, oral sex (m and f receiving), dry humping, spitting, biting, joel miller is a MUNCH, very appropriate use of a showerhead, consensual somnophilia, yoga, heavy emphasis on payphones, daddy issues, family reunions, angst, dead mom, grief and mourning, father/daughter relationship, bartending, reader is a woman in STEM (author is not), being a student in university deserves a warning probably, attempted drugging (roofies), college boys suck, possessive sex, possessive joel, protective joel, obligatory warning for joel's salt-and-pepper hair, masturbation, wet dreams, no outbreak AU, hurt/comfort, healing, no sarah or ellie, stargazing, face-sitting, pining/yearning, happy ending
word count: ~ 7.7k
a/n: let the fucking commence!
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chapter 4: between the sheets
Joel's birthday.
Your car is still in the shop by Monday—Joel’s birthday—so you’ll be sleeping at your dad’s place. 
And so will Joel. 
“Is this what you guys usually do for birthdays?” you ask, looking up from your studying toward your dad, who's stocking the cooler with beer. “Drink, eat, and watch TV until you rot or pass out?”
“Any better ideas?” 
You roll your eyes. “Guess not.”
He opens the fridge. “Are you sure I can’t have a piece of—”
“Do. Not. Eat that cake,” you warn without looking up from your textbook. 
“Jesus. Bossy.”
“That’s Joel’s cake, Dad.” You look at him over the couch and grin. “Once he gets the first piece, you can pig out.”
“I didn't say pig out,” he mumbles. 
There's a knock at the door. “I’ll get it,” you offer, jumping upright and knocking your textbook off your lap. 
“Did you have an extra shot of espresso in your coffee this morning?” calls your father from the kitchen, but you're already in the foyer, opening the door for Joel. 
He’s wearing a pair of jeans and a grey T-shirt, as usual, but wears them so nicely it's almost as exciting as a new outfit altogether. You opted for one of your sundresses, white and printed with daisies. “Hi,” you say, sounding more out-of-breath than you feel. “Happy birthday, Joel.”
Fuck, this dress. Is he supposed to sit right next to you all night without reaching his hands under that flowy little skirt? It’s his goddamn birthday—he should be able to do whatever he wants to with whatever you offer him. But Mike’s here, in between the two of you, forever. So, all he can do is kiss the top of your head and whisper, “Thank you, baby.”
You beam up at him, and he’s not going to last the night when you look like this, dress like this. “You’ll love the cake,” you tell him, ushering him into the kitchen. 
“Happy birthday, you old asshole.” Mike pulls him into a hug and slaps him on the back. 
Joel chuckles. “Real nice, man.” 
“Don't mind my kid.” He jerks his head in your direction, where you've settled yourself on the couch again, surrounded and engulfed by textbooks and notebooks. “She doesn't know how to relax.”
“I know how to relax,” you say, nose still buried in your work. Joel knows you do. He helped you relax just a few nights ago. “Unless you two want to write this test for me, I’ll be multitasking tonight.”
Joel and Mike crack open a bottle each of Sam Adams and clink them together. “To gettin’ old,” says Mike. 
I’m the one who sat your daughter on my lap and made her come all over me. Can a young, stupid kid do that? Joel just grins, feeling a little bit of primordial pride. “To friends who should learn to shut the fuck up.” 
They drink at the same time, and you hold up a glass of water from your spot on the couch in cheers. “To being around long enough to remember when the Colosseum was built.”
Oh, you think you’re real fuckin’ funny. He’s got half a mind to drag you upstairs and stuff your mouth with his cock just to make you remember how good he makes you feel. Maybe it’ll fix that attitude; maybe it’ll just quiet you down for a bit. Joel shares a look with Mike, who’s trying not to laugh. “She said it.”
Mike sits in the chair next to the television before Joel can subtly usher him into the seat next to yours. He sets his jaw, lowering himself next to you, the corner of a textbook briefly jabbing him in the ass. If he looks long enough, he will see that your skirt has slipped up your thighs and the barest sliver of your ass is visible from where he sits. He would not know, of course, because he isn't looking. 
“Can we do gifts now?” you ask, biting your lip to hide your excitement. Joel’s heart squeezes at the thought of getting a present from you. 
Arms around his neck. Layers of clothing between you. Your body rubbing up against him, taking what you want. Sweet moans that hang from the ceiling of his brain. Stalactites. 
What more could you give him? 
“I don't see why not,” says Mike. “But since best goes last, you should give your present first.”
You roll your eyes and set all your things on the table, leaning over the armrest to produce a giant gift bag brimming with blue tissue paper. Joel, of course, does not look at the shape of your ass in his face. “Blue’s your favourite colour,” you tell him. 
It is. He doesn't even remember telling you. Joel takes out the tissue paper and pulls out the first item. It's a cowboy hat, tied with ribbon to a green plaid-patterned flannel. 
He looks at your pretty, smiling face. “In case you want to go back to your roots,” you supply. “I could see how much you missed the farm you grew up on, and I think you'd look great in a cowboy hat.”
Joel’s throat is tightening. “Thank you,” he says hoarsely. 
The next item makes him frown. It's bright pink and slightly squishy and—
“A yoga mat,” he says. Mike snorts, hiding it behind his beer bottle. 
“It matches mine!” He recalls the mat in your bedroom the day he helped you unpack your things. The tight black pants moulded to your ass. Do you want him to do yoga with you? “I know you've got a bad back, and it really helps reduce pain. Plus, flexibility is always important.”
Joel wants to bend you over that goddamn armrest and leave bruises on your ass in the shape of his fingerprints. You're awfully fucking bold, making him picture you folded in half and sweating, right in front of your father. But it's thoughtful. It really is. You want to help take away his pain, as if you don’t do that with every second you're in the same room as him. “Might have to teach me,” he says. 
“I’m a fantastic teacher, luckily for you.” You clap your hands together and tuck them under your chin, and he's falling, listing, into a place he cannot crawl out of. “Open the last one.”
It’s in an envelope—whatever it is. Joel gently tugs out the piece of paper inside and reads it. The lump in his throat has migrated to his eyes, prickling the nerves behind his nose. “You named a star after me?”
“Shit,” says Mike. “I should've gone first.”
“It’s official and everything,” you tell him. “NASA has this program. I thought it might be cool to look up and know one of them belongs to you.”
He’s getting fucking soft with age. Joel clears his throat, his fingers trembling a little as he puts everything safely back in the bag and meets your gaze. He wishes Mike weren't here. He wishes he could pull you up against him and show you exactly how fast his heart is racing. You know him. You're so kind, so thoughtful, so bright. He doesn't deserve to have these things, but Jesus, he needs you so badly it aches. He doesn't just want you. He likes you. He’s excited by you and he’s nervous around you. 
How can he simply move beyond a feeling like this? He doesn't think it’s possible for a person to walk past you on the street and simply forget. You demand attention. You deserve it. 
“Thank you,” he says, because there's nothing else to say. He's a man of action. He will show you his gratitude. But it will have to wait, and so will he. 
Your eyes twinkle, and somehow he knows that you're thinking the same thing. “Happy birthday, Joel.”
Mike's gift to him is a new toolkit, since his current one is approximately as old as you, and a new nine iron, “since your back will be on the mend soon and you can hit the course with me again.”
You wrinkle your nose. “You’re such a guy, Dad.”
“Yeah?” He pulls you into him, attacking your head and your cheeks with a flurry of kisses as you squeal with laughter. “That'll show you, smartass.”
Joel cannot ruin this. But he finds he doesn't have many reservations about ruining you for every other man you'll ever meet. He’s going to be selfish with you tonight. It’s his birthday, after all. 
The doorbell chimes its broken melody, and you open the door to find an unfamiliar man staring down at you with a crooked smile on his face. He has shoulder-length dark hair and brown eyes, and he's wearing a denim jacket, holding up a six-pack of the same beer Joel and your father are drinking. 
“Well, hello,” he says. He's certainly Texan. 
“Hi,” you return politely, though it sounds a bit like a question. “I’m sorry, I don't think we’ve…”
“Sorry, darlin’. Tommy Miller.” He’s quick to shake your hand, and your brows shoot up. Now you know why you recognise that smile of his. 
You can't help but grin up at him. Good looks must run in the family. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Tommy.”
“You must be Mike’s girl.” He clicks his tongue, giving you a quick once-over. His eyes glimmer with something you can almost call mischief. “I like your dress.”
You lift your brows. “I like your double denim. Very with the times.”
“Tommy, stop harassing her,” says your father from behind you. “Good to see you, man.”
He and Tommy slap their palms together in a purely male handshake while you take the beer from him and hurry back to the kitchen. “Your brother’s here,” you tell Joel in a hushed voice. “Didn't tell me he was so handsome.”
He cocks his head to the side, leaning his hip on the counter. “Yeah? He tell you he liked your dress?” 
“He did.”
“That's his favourite.” Joel steps closer to you and you have to tilt your chin up to see him better. “He once said that to a girl who was wearin’ pants.”
You let the laugh slip out before you can stop it. “He brought you beer.” You lift the case onto the counter. “He must be good for something.”
“Yeah.” A hand slips indecently between your thighs and two fingers snap the waistband of your panties (white and lacy, because you need to have a little fun). “Toyin’ around with what ain’t his,” he says gruffly. 
You gasp, practically jumping back from him when your dad and Tommy enter the kitchen. If you look flushed or nervous, neither of them say a word. Joel hugs his brother. “Good of you to finally show up.”
“Jackass.” Tommy claps him hard on the back a couple times. “If I’d known such a pretty lady was here, I’d have dressed better.”
Your cheeks feel warm at his unabashed flirting. He’s not a lot younger than Joel, but he's certainly got the brashness of someone who is. Joel pulls him into a headlock while your father ruffles Tommy’s perfect hair. “If you flirt with my daughter, Miller, you’ll have to match your nice outfits to your bruises.”
Tommy laughs, wriggling out of the headlock and giving you a wink as he smooths his hair down. “I think I look good in black.”
Tommy’s always had a bark five times the size of his bite, but Joel isn't fond of the teasing. Sure, he knows it's only teasing, getting a rise out of his brother, but he doesn't like the way you blush for him. “All right, I’m calling in the food.” Mike picks up the receiver and points at Tommy. “Don’t think I don’t mean it, dickhead.”
Tommy lifts his hands in surrender and Joel shoves him in the side with an elbow for good measure. You sit back down with your pile of books, and the younger Miller lowers himself next to you, breaking your concentration with all his questioning and schmoozing. 
Joel grits his teeth. If he can't get a fucking second alone with you tonight, he’ll burn up from the inside. He takes a swig of his beer to cool down as you politely entertain Tommy’s conversation. He’s sleeping in the guest room tonight because you offered to take the couch. It’s his birthday, you told Mike, and his back will thank him. 
The rest of the party is pleasant. The guys eat wings while you pluck away at a caesar salad, refusing to get your hands dirty if you're touching your books all night. Tommy leaves around ten, and Joel and Mike are both somewhat drunk by the time midnight rolls around. 
It’s two o’clock in the morning, no longer his birthday, when he sneaks downstairs. He feels mostly sober now, chugging back a glass of water at the sink. Mike’s been asleep for an hour or so, but you haven't. In fact, you're still working, sitting upright on the couch with the lamp on as you study. Joel’s stomach sinks. The salad from hours earlier is not even half-eaten. You’re yawning every minute, rubbing at your eyes as you attempt to finish your problem set. 
You hear a noise from the kitchen and look up to find Joel standing, watching, at the counter. “Hi,” you say in a groggy voice. 
“Oh, baby,” he says, meeting you at the couch and sitting next to you. His hand finds your thigh, at last, squeezing and kneading your flesh like he's wanted to do all night. It feels like victory: restraint paying off. It feels like his erratic heartbeat can finally settle. “You gotta sleep. This ain't healthy.”
“Chemistry doesn't sleep,” you say with a pout. He wants to nibble that pout right off your lips. Your eyes are lidded and reddish. “Looks like you don’t, either.”
Joel plucks the notebook out of your hands and sets it on the table. “Enough,” he says softly, his hand winding around your waist and resting on your lower back. He relishes the way your body melts, your shoulders sinking and your spine decompressing under his warm palm. “C’mere, baby.”
You go easily onto his lap, your dress bunching around your hips. His mere closeness raises goosebumps on your arms, your legs, his large hand caressing your right thigh. He was right; you're so fucking soft. 
Your eyes blink sleepily at him, your fingers threading through his brown-silver locks. “I like your hair,” you whisper. “I like your eyes and your smile and your moustache.”
Joel’s hand finds the crease between your thigh and your hip. He rubs circles into your hip bone. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Your thumb traces his mouth, your touch so reverent even in your half-asleep haze, and he will never have enough of you. “Would feel so good… between my legs.”
His cock is stirring in his pants again, warmed by your telltale heat. “You know how hard it was not to touch you today?” He keeps his voice quiet, knowing Mike’s snoring away upstairs, knowing you're both playing with fire. “This fuckin’ dress. You wanted to tease me?”
“I wanted…” You gasp when he buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume. It swirls around his head and turns it fuzzy. You’re an aphrodisiac. “I wanted you to touch me. Just like this.”
He huffs into your throat, his strong nose guiding the path of his mouth. He cares little for caution when you smell the way you do— taste the way you do. His tongue darts out to place open-mouthed kisses up the veins in your throat, your pulse fluttering under his attention. You are the heady pull of closing eyes at dusk and the sweetness of dessert. 
Your hips grind against his cock the more he kisses his way up your neck, your wet pussy soaking through your little white panties. You feel so much closer to him than the last time, his need thick and insistent against you. He reaches the spot below your ear, sucking at a spot that makes you clutch the back of his head and press him to you, your cunt slick with your arousal. He grunts into your skin, licking and nibbling your earlobe, marking your body as he sinks further into the senseless plane of desire and he forgets that he isn't supposed to be doing this. 
“Joel,” you whisper, urging him back to look into his pitch-black eyes. “I want you to kiss me.”
No sane man can look into those sleep-soaked eyes and say no to you. He tips his chin up and presses his lips to yours. It's soft, gentle, and it feels like Rapture. 
He cradles the back of your head and gently pries open your mouth for him to lick into, sliding his tongue along yours as your breathing shifts and little gasps pour like honey from your throat. This is what he needs. This is the line that will reel his soul back up from hell. 
Your lips are soft and your skin burns for him. His hands become needier, bunching your dress higher up your hips so he can guide his fingers higher up your thighs, squeezing your ass and shifting to the juncture of your thighs. The white lace. He keeps your mouth against him as he toys with the waistband, feeling it give and slide under his touch. 
Your sighs send blood surging down to his cock until there's nothing left in his brain. All he knows is finding a way to get more: drawing more of those noises from you, coaxing more pleasure out of your body, giving you so much of him that you’ll never want anyone else. 
Joel groans softly into your mouth and breaks away to put his mouth to your jaw, your chin, taking a fistful of your hair and pulling your head back so he can have better access to your throat. 
“Oh, my—” Your eyes flutter shut when he licks a stripe up your throat, his beard scratching your skin deliciously, every mild touch electrifying your body. 
He reaches your sternum, right above the neckline of this godforsaken dress, roughly tugging down the straps off your shoulders so he can finally— finally —see your pretty tits for himself. It isn't a dream this time. The dress pools around your waist, sitting on his lap in your father’s home, rocking your hips against his stiff cock and looking so fucking tired, so fucking beautiful, that he wants to sink right into you and become one. It’s the only way to cure this itch. 
He can never be close enough. 
“Joel.” Your fingers are still in his hair as he kisses all the way down your chest, a rough hand grasping your ribs and rubbing a thumb over your hard nipple. He’s taking his time exploring you, his hand secure around the base of your neck, the other adventuring across the planes and curves of you, indulging because he finally can. You let him, because it’s not his birthday anymore, but he’s been so patient. He's waited so long. 
And fuck, it feels good. Every tweak of your nipples, every playful nibble and suck sends jolts of pleasure to your cunt, the only spot of you he hasn't yet admired. Joel’s mouth finds one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around it before he sucks it into his mouth. “Fuck.” It's more of a squeak this time, less of a whisper, and he squeezes your ribcage as if to stop your lungs from expanding, as if to say, Quiet. 
“That feels good,” you gasp, your head falling back, the back of your neck still warmed by the press of his palm. “Dreamed about this.”
You're waking up, though still a bit groggy, with everything he gives you. He kisses his way back to the hollow of your throat and looks up at you with those deep brown eyes, glimmering silver in the moonlight. “So have I,” he says. 
“You don't sleep.”
“No,” he agrees. The hand at your neck slides down to your lower back, to your ass, where he presses you down onto him. The graze of his zipper against your clit makes stars burst behind your eyes. Joel cocks his head. “Why do you think I can’t sleep lately, hmm? It’s because you wake me up. You and your body.” Another roll of your hips makes you drop your forehead to his. He tucks your hair behind your ear. “Can’t fuckin’ sleep when you're all I'm thinkin’ about, now, can I?”
You bite your lip, but this time, he can do something about it. He nudges his nose against your cheek and fits his mouth to yours. He dreams about you. He thinks of you. He wants you. 
“I don’t sleep much, either,” you tell him when he lets you up for air. 
“I know,” he says softly. You hold onto his wrist when he cups your face. “Such a thinker. You gotta let yourself go, baby. Let yourself feel.” 
“I…” His cock is so hard. It’s a strong, thick pressure against your thigh, catching on your clit with each drag of your hips. You won't come like this again; you need him to feel good. “I want you in my mouth.”
You can feel him twitch against you, his pulse hammering against your mouth as you suck on his pressure point. “Jesus.” His hands fly to your hips. “Baby, I… Goddamn, we can’t… can’t risk it.”
He's right, of course. It doesn't stop you from grinding down against him and nibbling his lobe. “But it's your birthday.”
“Not—fuck, not anymore.”
“I want you to feel good,” you whisper, your breath hot against his cheek. 
“Jesus Christ.” He pulls you away, looking you hard in the eyes. “When I fuck you, baby, I want to hear you. I want to make you scream. I can’t do that here.” His mouth seeks yours, slow and sweet. “Lie down.”
Your eyes close on instinct when he kisses you, but your confusion lingers. “What…” 
“Lie down, and go to sleep.” He kisses your forehead, and it feels like finality. “Tomorrow night, when you get off work, I’m comin’ to pick you up.”
You shift reluctantly off his lap, resting your head on the arm of the couch and spreading your legs slightly so he can get a look at the wet patch on your panties. Your tired eyes are doe-like in the darkness. “And?” you ask, trailing your foot up his thigh. 
“And…” His fingers hook in the waistband of your panties, shucking them down your legs and leaving you bare underneath. You watch him with black eyes and a heaving chest as he stuffs your panties in his pocket. “I want you to wear that black thong you've got. You know the one I’m talkin’ about?”
You swallow. He’s seen your underwear collection? “Yes,” you say breathlessly. 
“I never thanked you,” he whispers, bringing his fingers to your soaking wet cunt and spreading your folds open, “properly. That was one hell of a birthday gift, baby.”
You can’t help but smile. “I want you to be happy.” 
Two fingers slide languidly through your wetness, making you twitch. “I’m real happy,” he says, “when you're with me.”
He brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean. 
“Joel,” you whine, spreading your thighs wider, inviting him to touch you even though you know he can't. You know it's wrong. 
“Tomorrow night.” He's tired of denying himself of you. He's tired of letting you go on thinking there isn't a soul in this world who's willing to fight for your affection. “Go to sleep.”
For good measure, he closes the textbook on the table and stands up, leaving you wet, wanting, and dreaming of the promise of tomorrow. 
~
You’re quivering with anticipation when you hop up into the passenger’s seat in your little skirt and little black thong. 
“Show me,” is how he greets you, his eyes sliding lazily toward you and taking in your whole body. His jaw ticks as you slip the hem of your skirt up above your hips and show him the scrap of lace tucked between your cheeks. Apparently satisfied, he pulls out of the parking lot and drives you to his home. 
Inside, too impatient to bother flicking on the lights, he pushes you up against the front door and kisses you hard. His hands slide up your back as you wind your arms around his neck, your lips parting to welcome his tongue and feed your contented sighs into his mouth. Fuck, you're tense, your shoulders tight and your leg muscles strained from being on your feet all night. When his hands begin to wander, you have a feeling he knows exactly where you're hurting. 
You whisper his name, passing it from your throat to his mouth, and you realise it's the first word either of you have spoken since you got in his truck tonight. He growls your name, not once letting you up for air as his hands feel up your arms, your spine, your ribs, the flare of your hips. He touches your body like it's marble, and kisses you like you're water: he could chip you away, and you could slip right through his fingers, but you're here, and he cups you so gently in his palm that the marble will not crack. The water will not drip. 
All of the windows and doors are closed. All of the curtains are drawn, the lights off. But he wants you in his bedroom. He wants you where he knows the world will wait patiently outside a closed door and he’ll never have to worry about another soul seeing you the way he wants to see you tonight. He turns you around, backing you toward his room as you stumble to keep pace. All the while, his hands never leave your body, and his mouth never offers reprieve. His moustache and his beard scratch you, merciless, unrelenting. 
Kicking the door shut behind him, Joel kisses you until your lips are swollen and your pupils are so wide they engulf your irises. He cradles your head in his hand, and you place your palm to his heart. 
“You're wearing it,” you say with a grin. “The shirt I bought you.”
“Sorry I couldn't wear the hat.” Joel kisses his way from your cheek to your earlobe, nibbling slightly before he changes his trajectory downward. 
“That's okay,” you sigh, holding him to you as he playfully bites your collarbone. “I want you naked, anyway.”
He chuckles into your neck. “You first.”
His hand finds your ass, squeezing roughly over your little skirt. “Teasin’ me,” he grunts, grabbing at the fabric, so blind with need that he can't think straight long enough to find the waistband. Instead, he’s pulling the skirt up and over your ass just to grab handfuls of your soft flesh. “Jesus, you're beautiful.”
“What did you do with them?” Your soft voice breaks in half when he snaps the band of your thong against your hip. “The panties you took.”
“You wanna know?” Joel finally yanks down your skirt, leaving you in your shirt and that pathetic black fabric barely covering your pussy. “I took out my cock and I jerked off into them. Came on your pretty white lace, thinkin’ about the way you looked last night.”
Your breathing stutters, your grip tightening around the collar of his flannel shirt. “Fuck. Take this off, please.”
So polite. So sweet. Joel clicks his tongue, backing you toward the bed. “Arms up,” he orders. 
You obey so easily, letting him drag your shirt over your head. Joel unclasps your bra and tosses it aside, squeezing your tits in his rough hands and splaying his fingers over your ribcage. “I think about you,” he says lowly, “when I’m sleepin’. When I’m awake. When I’m supposed to be workin’. You have any idea how much company time you've lost me?”
You giggle, crowding him so you can press your lips to his throat. “You're your own boss. No such thing as company time.”
“Such a smart fuckin’ mouth.” He hooks his thumb in the band of your thong, his other hand grasping your chin. “You gonna be good and listen to me? Let me help you feel good?”
There's a change in your eyes. Pouring cold metal into a cast and watching it melt. Reshaping it into something soft, malleable, warm.  “Yes, Joel.”
Fuck, if that doesn't send all of his blood soaring to his cock. Joel smiles down at you. “Take ‘em off, baby.”
You back away to give yourself enough room, looking right into his eyes as you make a show of sliding your thong down your legs, stepping out of it and lowering yourself onto the bed. He takes his eyes on a path over your stiff nipples, your pretty, glistening cunt on display for him. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, and it makes you push your chest forward with a bit of pride knowing he likes you like this. 
“My beautiful girl.” He steps close to you, nudging your legs open so he can stand between them. You're naked for him. You're on his bed, wet and wanting for him. There is no compromise when it comes to you: he cannot let another man see you like this. A selfish man guards his treasures. A selfish man does not want, because he does not give away what he has. 
You sit primly on the edge, peering up at him with a pleading look in your eye. “Let me undress you.” You pop open a button on his shirt. “Please, Joel.”
He likes the sound of your begging, so he nods, allowing you to indulge, your fingers slipping the shirt off his broad shoulders. “So handsome,” you muse, dispensing with the flannel and putting your lips to his chest, his soft stomach, the freckles on his body that you've never been so lucky to see until now. He’s beautiful. He is the sum of years you've never seen, the experience of a man who's made his way in the world with his strong, capable body. He is the only man you ever want to know so intimately. 
“Touch yourself,” he commands, backing away to take in the sight of your naked body. “Let me see you.”
And fuck, you want to make him so happy. You want to make him proud, make him feel good. Your hand slides leisurely down your body as you maintain eye contact, tracing the path from your sternum to your navel. His eyes look black in the darkness. You ease your thighs open, giving him a good view when you finally dip two fingers between your folds and bring them to your mouth, licking up your wetness. Slicked up with saliva, your fingers circle easily over your clit, your eyes fluttering and your head falling against the pillows. 
“That feels good,” you tell him, pinching your nipple. “Fuck, Joel, I need you. I need you.”
“You’ll get me, sweetheart. Just keep goin’.” He likes watching, it seems, making you go a little crazy, making you teeter precariously on an edge you'll never tip over. You push two fingers inside your pussy, rubbing your palm against your clit. Your moan turns high-pitched, your core burning with need you cannot satiate. Not when he's so close, looking at you, forcing you to touch yourself when all you know is the fire only he can stoke. 
But that's what he wants. He wants you to know that he’s got you liquified in the little pool in the palm of his hand. You're his. “You…” Rubbing your clit slowly, you try to meet his eyes even though yours are closing. “You get off on this? Sick bastard.”
Joel tuts. “Did I say to close your eyes?”
“Joel, I—”
“Keep. Your eyes. Open.” You increase your pace, your hips bucking a little into your hand, and peel your eyes open. “Keep ‘em on me. Just like that.”
“I need…” You sigh in frustration, trying to give him your best pitiful look even though you know it's fruitless. You’re putty in his hands. You'll touch yourself for as long as he wants you to, even if you never come. “I need…”
“Say it,” he says, and you hate how soft he sounds. The kiss of a warm breeze at nighttime, the silvery wisps of air that curl up from between lips at the intake of the cigarette smoke. He coaxes you, coos at you, and it could be mocking, if he didn't like you so damn much. “Say what you need, baby.”
“I need to come, Joel. I need you. Fuck, I need you to touch me. I’ll… I’ll die if you don't touch me.”
Joel lifts his brows. Spoiled. You’re fucking spoiled and it's all his fault. It's your fault he's so hard, close to ripping a seam in his goddamn jeans, his cock throbbing and leaking precum. “Tell me why you're so fuckin’ wet. Tell me why you're cryin’.”
“You!” Head tossed back on the pillows. Eyes barely open, tears blurring your vision. Fingers frantically rubbing your poor clit to no avail. “You, Joel. You. It’s you. I’m yours.”
That. 
That's what he wanted to fucking hear. 
Joel unzips his jeans and disposes of them so fast it's like they're ablaze. Your fingers slow their relentless pace on your clit to watch his thick, hard cock slap up against his stomach. “No underwear?” you rasp. “That’s a little whorish of you, Mr. Miller.”
Joel grabs your ankle and manoeuvres you so you're lying flat on your back. You yelp, arousal shooting pants of pleasure through your body at his manhandling. “You wanna fuckin’ talk?” he grunts, crawling onto the bed and situating himself between your legs just so he can bite down on the flesh of your inner thigh. Your whole body jolts with shock.
He holds firmly into your thighs, leaving wet kisses from your navel to your needy clit. It's where he's wanted to be since the first fantasy. The first dream. The first sight. You look down at him, silver locks of hair shining in the darkness, and your gaze is so reverent that his heart wants to beat its wings and unshackle itself. A heart cannot be contained with a look like that—it must go free. It must expand. 
Your fingers thread gently through his hair, and it’s all the affirmation he needs. Somewhere in the air between you, two hands lock, and two souls intertwine. 
His tongue is hot between your slick folds. There are already tears in your eyes from your teasing, but it's something different altogether when Joel’s mouth finds your clit. The pleasure is so hot it freezes your veins. You're locked in place, the space between your brows creasing, your mouth falling open, as he flicks his tongue against your clit. 
Defibrillator. Each measured lick is a patch wrapped around a rib, a nerve, a muscle. Each administration hurls you through space. You're crashing into the stars on the way, bright white flashing behind your eyes. 
Tactile. The scratch of his beard and moustache rubs your soft skin raw. Your smell, your taste, tang and potency and the nectar of your sweet, soft gasps. He's spreading you open on a banquet table. He's licking into your cunt and making you mewl like a whore. He’s making you feel so good, so wanted, so happy. 
He can't be going to hell. Hell is not the taste of you. Hell is not the way you fist his hair or cry his name. Hell is not—has never been—your face, your body, your voice. Hell does not know the shape of you. 
This is the other place. 
His tongue circles your slick entrance, but it does not push past. Not yet. He moves back up toward your clit, dragging his tongue across each electrified nerve over and over and over—
His fingers bruise your thighs. His grip does not relent. Neither does yours. You cry his name, wet and gasping, a drowning woman seeking the muffled, distorted light above the surface. Joel’s lips seal around your clit, sucking and lapping at the rest of you until you're shaking and he can barely hold on. 
He does not stop when your orgasm crests. When your chest heaves in a ragged moan that sounds like pulling an open wound over broken piano strings. When your body stiffens, then relaxes, riding out the rhythm like a heartbeat as you come with such force that the pleasure has nowhere to go. Only up. Up. Up—
He isn't stopping. He's closed his eyes, drowning your anchor, forcing you to squeeze your own shut. He keeps going —licking broad stripes through your pussy, making out with it like he's fucking drunk off the taste of you. 
He’s drunk. He registers your orgasm, but he does not register that he needs to pull back, let you rest, fit his cock inside you to relieve his own arousal. He can hear your weak, whimpering cries, can feel the way you jerk against him when his nose nudges your sensitive clit. He cannot grasp anything except this. You taste so fucking good. You taste like relief. You taste like all the chances he wants to take. 
“Joel, I…” You're so weak you can barely speak, pushing him closer to your cunt, letting him take you even though you're not sure you can—
“Oh, fuck!” Your thighs tremble as you come a second time under his expert tongue. Joel grunts, apparently satisfied this time, finally lifting his head up from between your legs and pressing kisses from your thighs to your calves. He lifts himself up to his knees, securing your thighs around his hips. 
His cockhead taps your cunt, a small puddle of precum gathering on your pretty clit. Just because he can, he grabs the base of his cock and smears the pearly white liquid over your pussy, notching himself at your hole. 
You catch a glimpse of how his girth dwarfs your tight entrance and your eyes widen. “Joel… you’re…” 
“I know,” he says. “You gonna be okay?”
A steely determination settles in the crease of your brow, and you hug your thighs tighter around his hips. “I can take it.”
That's his girl. Joel pushes his hips forward, watching your hole seal over the head, wet and fucking warm. “Jesus,” he mutters. Your head falls back and your eyes flutter. 
“Focus right here, baby,” he says, patting your cheek. You struggle to keep your eyes open, looking right into his as he feeds his cock into you. 
You gasp, blinking away tears as he bottoms out, so thick and heavy you can feel him in your belly. And he’s so smug, the bastard, giving you that wicked smirk. When he rolls his hips, pushing the head of his cock so deep that it kisses your womb, you choke on your moan. “You’re… such an… asshole.”
“Tell me all about it,” he says, securing his hand on the back of your thigh and pushing it toward your chest. The angle deepens, stars soaring across your vision, and he begins to fuck you. 
It's the cloying haze of ecstasy. Being inside you burns holes through him, cigarettes on skin. He's vaguely aware of the slick noises his cock draws from your wet pussy, the slam of the headboard against the wall as he fucks you into the mattress. His back pinches in pain and he knows he'll feel it tomorrow, but you look so cock-drunk, your head lolling and your eyes rolling back, that he can't bring himself to care. 
Your hands claw at his chest, his shoulders, trying to pull him down toward you even though your leg is bent back toward your head. He gives you a moment of reprieve to lean over you, his hand braced next to your head and his mouth slanting over yours. You hum happily, your fingers scratching at the nape of his neck, and he will do anything—anything—to make you feel good. 
In a flash, he twists your leg so you're on your stomach, then hauls you up by your hips so you're on your hands and knees, all without pulling out of you. “Joel!” you squeak. 
“Fuck. This body.” He slides one hand up your spine as he slams into you from behind, gritting his teeth and pummeling your ass with his hips. “This tight… fuckin’… body.”
“Ah, fuck—” Your body jolts forward and Joel grabs the headboard just to steady you, stopping it from slamming against the wall. He slips his hand around your chest and hauls your body up against his, lavishing your throat with his hot mouth. “Joellllll,” you whine. 
“Feel good, baby?” he grunts, grinding his cock deep. You cry out, your hands blindly grasping behind you for a purchase on his hips. 
“So— fuck! —so good. You’re so big.” The breathless praise fills his head with air, ballooning his ego, making him pull you closer. 
“You can take it,” he says into your ear, the rhythm of his thrusts perfectly attuned to the response of your body. He's learned you, mapped you, and you're all for him. 
You gasp his name, your head turning to bite down on his bicep as he fucks you so thoroughly that your brain is liquifying to warm honey. Joel grits his teeth at the twinge of pain, his balls pulling up as his orgasm nears. “That’s it, baby,” he pants, letting your upper half bend back down onto the mattress so he can rub your clit. 
“Oh! Yes, yes, yes.” Your hands flex against the sheets, wrinkling them between your fingers as your cheek presses into the mattress. The rippling of your ass with every slap of his balls against your clit is a delicious sight, and the way your thighs tremble only makes his hips stutter. He’s going to come. He’s…
Your pussy clenches around him, your whole body seizing as you come on his cock, pushing out a weak cry. “Joel, I… oh, fuck.”
“I got you, baby. It’s okay. Let go; that's a good girl.” He removes his fingers from your clit when you begin to buck and cry from the overstimulation, his hand leaving the headboard to grab your hips. Now, he can fuck you hard and fast, your body limp and pliant underneath him. “Just let me… shit, let me… gotta—”
Your gasps are wet and your cheeks are drying from your tears. “Oh, my—” Your mouth drops open at his relentless pummeling. “Oh, shit!”
He feels the telltale splatter of wetness on his balls and his thighs before he registers that you're coming again. Your body shakes without abandon, your eyes squeezing shut and your pussy sucking him deeper, deeper still. It’s loud and smacking and slick in his ears, and he loses his goddamn mind. 
His orgasm pinches every nerve in his back without warning. He groans, fisting your hair, instinctively pushing his hips flush to your ass and drowning your cunt in his hot cum. 
“Goddamn… shit. Jesus.” He covers your body with his, his forehead pressed to the space between your sweat-slick shoulder blades. You can feel his breath puffing out against your skin. 
“Joel,” you moan weakly, your knees close to giving out, your hips aching. 
“Fuck. Fuck, baby, I’m sorry.” He hauls himself upright and pulls out, his cock pulsing at the sight of his cum dripping out of your used hole. “I came inside you.”
“I can feel it,” comes your muffled giggle, wiggling your ass at him. “I’m on the pill.”
He collapses next to you, tucking you into his side, his nose nudging yours before he slots his mouth over yours. You kiss him happily, sleepily, draping your arm over his broad chest. “Gotta clean you up,” he grumbles into your mouth. “Made a fuckin’ mess.”
You put your lips to the corner of his mouth, the patches in his beard, smiling against his cheek. “Shouldn't have manhandled me so good, then.”
Joel chuckles, smacking your ass. “Funny girl. C’mon, get up.”
You huff, taking his hand as he helps you off the bed, catching you around the waist when your knees give out. “Easy,” he laughs. 
“Your fault.” You steady yourself by holding onto his arm as he takes you into his bathroom. “You took me by surprise. Didn't think an old man could fuck like that.”
“Smartass.” Joel gives your ass another slap and closes you both inside. He wets a washcloth and wipes it between your thighs, enjoying the little whimper that leaves your mouth when it drags over your puffy clit. “Almost done, baby.”
He cleans up the cum that has dripped out of your hole and your own wetness, leaning in to kiss you softly when he's finished. You smooth his hair back, smiling fondly at his tousled appearance, the way he looks so relaxed, so calm. “I like you like this.”
“Yeah?” He lifts a brow, observing the marks you've left on him through the mirror. “Scratched up like a goddamn cat post?”
“Couldn't help it.” You lean into him and press gentle little kisses to the crescents and red marks on his chest and shoulders. “Now those other ladies knocking down your door will know you're not up for grabs.”
“You tell me where those ladies are first, and I’ll give ‘em a piece of my mind,” he chuckles, roaming his hands up and down your arms. “I’ve certainly never seen ‘em before.”
“Well, we women have a secret code,” you tell him. “A girl can tell. You're a hot commodity around here. Big, strong, tall, working man…”
His ego is getting a little overinflated at the ministrations of your sweet voice. He rubs his thumbs over your hip bones and shuts you up with a kiss. “Anyone ever tell you you're trouble?” he mumbles into your mouth. 
“Mmmhmm,” you reply. “But you can handle it.”
Goddamn right I can. 
414 notes · View notes
friedbaekhyunandeggso · 4 months
Text
mr. kamo
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art credit: @/adrienwithane on instagram
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pairings: choso kamo x female oc (kaori everest)
tropes: kindergarten teacher! choso x college student! teacher assistant/aide! oc
warnings: all lowercase, 18+ only, age-gap (choso: 28-30ish, oc: 19), lying/ulterior motives, underage drinking, mentions of weed (once), virgin! choso, dirty talk, pet names (good girl, baby), unprotected s3x, failed pull out attempt = creampie (don’t be silly & cover your willy)
word count/plot: [9.2k] kaori meets her little sister’s kindergarten teacher by chance & can’t forget him. he might not know her yet but she's not afraid to do anything to get what she wants.
a/n: honestly this story is kinda random but i was thinking about choso & this fanart that i saw of him a while ago as a kindergarten teacher. i didn't see him as a kindergarten teacher then but now i kinda think it's a cute concept. i was originally gonna make the oc a cafe worker but the idea for this slightly chaotic oc came in my head hella last min. anyway, i hopeee u enjoy-especially if ur one of the peeps who voted for this on my poll :) happy holidays!!!
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“mom! come onn, you can pick her up on your way back.”
she hastily put on her jacket, “stop it, kaori. your dad and i aren’t sure if we’ll make it back on time so i need you. i know you can do it.”
“mommmm, do you seriously have to go to yoga today? aren’t classes twice a week?”
“yes, but todays bring your husband to yoga day so you know i have to. i made your dad leave work early for this.”
suddenly a car honked.
“alright, i’ll see you okay? make sure you get shiloh okay?”
she sighed, “alright, alright.”
she'd wanted to enjoy the fact that her last class of the day and evening work-shift got cancelled but it seemed she had to get out of the house anyway.
great.
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kaori parked her car alongside the million other cars at the sidewalk. she was 7 minutes late. it wasn’t terrible but she’d meant to come earlier—if only she hadn’t gotten distracted talking to her friend on the phone.
she stepped out of the car, hastily closing the door behind her. she checked the time on her phone once more before slipping it into her trench coat pocket. she quickly jogged towards the kindergarteners entrance.
she only remembered where it was because she'd went to this school when she was a child. and now it was her little sister’s turn.
she glanced around to see other parents waiting as well, some conversing with a few teachers and—
“ri! ri!” a familiar voice yelled.
kaori immediately spun around to see shiloh pointing at her. her familiar pastel purple puffer coat standing out.
she walked over, noticing the tall white-or grey, was it?-man standing beside her. he had the most interesting tattoo on face, right along his t-zone were stark black lines. and the skin surrounding his eyes was a deep purplish shade as if he lacked sleep. and his hair? his hairstyle was the most.. outlandishly cute hairstyle she’d ever seen.
it was two spiky, space-bun like ponytails at the crown of his head. he wore a fitted long-sleeve purple sweater, layered with a white collared dress-shirt underneath. the sleeves of his shirts rolled up to his elbow, revealing firm forearms. he had on dark grey slacks and matching black dr. martens?? specifically the 1461 platforms? she swore she had the same pair at home.
to say she was speechless was an understatement.
shiloh tugged on his finger, “riri here.”
she let go of his finger then and waddled up-to her. just as shiloh reached out to clutch her finger, he was there. his large hand cupping shiloh’s tiny shoulder.
kaori blinked, she hadn’t even seen him move.
he then bent down, adjusting one of the loose straps on shiloh’s backpack before looking up at her.
“i’m sorry, are you here to pick someone up?”
“yes,” she gestured towards shiloh, “i’m here to pick up shiloh actually. i’m her older sister.”
“ah,” he stood up, revealing his full height before her. he had to be about 6 ft tall-maybe 5’11 but it didn’t matter. she had to look up at him to maintain eye contact and something about it made her jittery inside.
“do you mind showing me your ID?”
right. It was probably protocol for newcomers that came for pick up-and her mother had reminded her exactly of such but-just as she reached for her wallet and examined its inside, her ID wasn’t there. fuck.
wait. she quickly checked the back of her phone case. yes! her fake ID was in there.
she was nineteen but her fake id looked exactly like her real one, minus for her birth year-of course-which revealed her to be ‘twenty three’. she hadn’t used it much but she’d gotten one anyway. last year-well, freshman year her friends were convinced they needed one so they got her on the bandwagon.
she handed him her fake id with a light smile. he took it, examining it for a short moment before handing it back to her.
he removed his hand from shiloh’s shoulder, “nice to meet you, ms. everest.” his voice was flat but not entirely impolite.
she offered him her hand, “kaori,” she corrected, “you can call me kaori. what’s your name?”
he shook her hand steadily, as if it were a practiced motion, “cho-“
shiloh suddenly bounced up and down, “mr. kamo! mr. kamo!”
kaori suddenly blanked with recognition. this was mr.kamo? mr.kamo was the teacher shi would not shut up about-which was rare because shiloh was actually a reserved kid. well, as reserved as a five year old could be but even mom had been praising him for making shiloh come out of her shell.
he glanced down at her, the corner of his lip lifting handsomely. this had to be the first emotion she’d seen on his face.
he lightly patted her head, his tone completely changing, “yes, mr. kamo. this is your sister?”
she beamed up at him. what the hell? she never smiles at me like that? “yes. riri is big shister.”
his smile widened ever so slightly, “alright, have fun at home, okay? don’t give big sister too much trouble.”
kaori couldn’t help but smile at that, “i hope she hasn’t been giving you trouble in class?”
even if shiloh was the reserved type she always like to be on the move. she sometimes had a hard time sitting still and got bored rather easily. adhd diagnosis incoming..
he shook his head, “no, no. she’s been good. she almost took another kid’s juice box today but it was because her water bottle was empty.”
he glanced down at her, “-but we talked about using our words right? we use words before hands.”
shiloh blinked up at him, holding onto the straps of her backpack tightly, “words ‘for hands.”
“and do we steal?”
shiloh turned red at that, “no, no stealing.”
he then raised his hand for her to high-five, “good girl.”
shiloh immediately hopped up to high-five him and he moved his hand at the last second.
“kamo kamo!” shiloh whined before hugging his leg as he chuckled. “mr.kamo! high-five.”
“okay, okay,” he bent over slightly, raising his hand out to her once more.
shiloh high-fived him with a cheeky smile.
he lightly ruffled her hair, “you gotta go home now, okay?“
shiloh scrunched her nose before letting his leg go, “okayy.”
she walked over and wrapped her tiny fist around kaori’s index finger. kaori was merely stunned at how well shi listened.
he nodded at kaori, “i’ll see you tomorrow. i mean-well-“
“yes,” she smiled cordially, “you’ll see me tomorrow.”
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Her mom had just picked out the hanger with her coat from the closet when she suddenly heard kaori’s voice.
“wait! mom,” she hastily bounded down the steps, “are you picking up shi?”
“yes, where are you going?”
kaori had on a jacket and her hair styled in a way that emphasized her wispy wolfcut perfectly.
(a/n: if anyone is curious i was picturing her haircut as this bc i think its sooo cute, anyway pls continue)
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“it’s alright i’ll pick up shi today.”
her mom blinked, “you will?”
“yep.” she plucked off her keys from the key hanger before heading out the door.
her mom stared after her wake-in shock. she slowly put her coat back into the closet, “okay then.”
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she was early, early enough that the teachers weren’t outside yet so she waited in the car, tapping the steering wheel with her almond shaped french tips.
she zoned out to the song playing until she heard children noises-in abundance. she glanced outside the window just as he stepped out the building, the rest of the little kids in his class in tow. it didn’t matter that several other teachers and kids had also just stepped outside. all that mattered was that he was here. and, of course, shi.
she waited until only a few kids were left to step out the car. it seemed a lot of parents liked to stop and talk to him while picking up their child. with his face, she couldn’t blame them.
she took her time walking over, letting him notice her before she approached. which is exactly what he did, he quickly ushered shi forward.
she took off her sunglasses, slipping them into her prada shoulder bag before offering him a smile.
“nice to see you again, mr. kamo.”
he blinked as if stunned. shiloh watched the two of them with a frown. shiloh had been grilled by her sister yesterday, she’d wanted to know everything about mr. kamo. she’d asked her question after question, some questions the poor 5 yr old didn’t even know the meaning of herself.
he subtly shook his head before returning her smile with a faint one of his own. “you as well, kaori.”
her smile widened before she bent down to meet shiloh eye-to-eye. shi pouted, still holding onto mr. kamo’s index finger.
“did you have a good day at school today?” kaori asked, while lightly pinching her cheek.
“yes.” she mumbled.
he glanced down to look at shi’s moody expression. his dark brows furrowed in concern until kaori snapped her fingers.
“mr. kamo, i know this is kind of a random question but what did you major in in college?”
“i majored in elementary education.”
“wow, they had that program at your school?”
he nodded.
“what school did you go to?”
“boston university.”
“boston?” she laughed slightly, “that’s so far out. what made you come here?”
he seemed somewhat taken aback by the question. she wasn’t sure if it was because he hadn’t considered it himself or because no one else had asked, “i.. i like this town.”
“you don’t think it’s boring?” she pried, “-at all?”
“no,” he answered, rather composed, “i like boring. its peaceful here.”
she supposed that was true. there was barely any crime here, most of the ‘crime’ was just college students doing something chaotic during rush season or partying too hard. this town was as nice upper middle class america could get.
and unfrickingfortunately she wasn’t able to get out. she was a commuter so her college campus was merely a fifteen minute drive away. and because she was commuter she had the unfortunate experience of seeing many familiar high school faces.
she’d chosen to commute to save money because her parents deal was that if she moved out they’d help with electricity, wifi and other bills but she had to pay to her own rent. she supposed it was their not so subtle way of trying to help her get on her own feet since she was kind of a crazy spender.
she hadn’t been able to save any of the money she made during high school due to her bad spending habits but she decided she’d lock down this year. she’d save as much as she could so that she could have the chance to transfer somewhere else and move out.
she ran a hand through her hair, lost in thought. she supposed not everybody wanted to get out.
“kaori?”
she was immediately drawn back to reality, her eyes flickering up to his.
my god, are his eyes dark purple? it had to be the sunlight playing tricks on her.
she shook her head, “sorry, i just-zoned out.” she muttered.
“you’re good.” something about the baritone of his voice felt reassuring-despite his tone being oddly detached, “is there a reason why you asked about my educational background?”
ever so professional. she nearly smiled to herself but held it in. she was glad he asked because—
“yes, actually, there is,” she tilted her head, “i actually go to [insert nearby university name] and i’m double majoring in math,” truth. “and education,” lie. “but i feel like im leaning more towards education.” another lie. “but i actually have no experience working with any particular age group so i was wondering if i could..” suddenly she felt a bit nervous but quickly cleared her throat, “y’know, shadow you?”
he blinked-repeating, “shadow me.”
“yes,” she smiled slightly, “shadow you. i’m open to helping out with the class as well but if you prefer that i just watch that works too-but yes, i’d like to shadow you.”
his brows furrowed slightly, as if unsure.
she quickly added, “sorry, i know im springing this on you but i’ve heard that your a great teacher-“ she watched his gaze lower to shi and she beamed up at him, making him smile in return.
she cheered internally as she continued, “-and this would really help me sort out my future career plans. i’ll probably jus shadow you until the end of this semester, which is in a month so i won’t be bugging you too long—“
he quickly shook his head, “it’s not that. i’m just not entirely sure on the protocol for this so.. i’ll have to get back to you.”
he paused, “are you going to be here tomorrow?”
“yes.”
“alright, i’ll update you then.”
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and that was how she landed in a classroom of eighteen 5-6 year olds as a young adult who hates kids.
wonderful.
he clearly didn’t hate kids though. in fact, he was wonderful with them. he somehow knew exactly what to say to stop a kid from throwing paint on his friend. he knew exactly how to get a kid to stop crying after getting a ‘boo boo’ and he had little to no problem repeating himself several times to get the simple directions of the activities through the little kids heads.
his level of patience was truly commendable. it was also commendable how attractive he managed to look while dealing with the little menaces. she was truly shocked.
she straightened in her seat when he cloaked the last kid in a blanket. it was ‘rest time’ which basically meant all the kids got to lay out on soft nap mats for about forty five minutes. apparently it was either this or recess after lunch, depending on the weather.
he approached her, looking tired—as usual, “you can take a break if you want, i know its been a hectic day.”
“hectic for me?” she smiled at him, “i was just watching.”
he half heartedly smiled back. he’d decided that for her first day she should just observe, so that she could at least get a gist of what went on in the day.
“can i get you a coffee?”
he sat at his desk now and merely retrieved a thermos from his messenger bag at her question.
“i have some.”
“do you know where the bathroom is?”
“o-of course,” he shot up from his desk, “i’ll show you.”
she followed him out of the classroom, watching as he quickly notified the hall monitor to keep an eye on his class before leading her to the staff break room.
he showed her where the extra utensils, plates and mini fridge were-as well as some extra snacks-before showing her the bathroom last.
he seemed embarrassed about this when-in reality-she hadn’t even needed to go. she just wanted to get him alone.
he shook his head, speaking in his typical monotonous fashion, “i’m sorry, you probably needed to go right away-“
“you’re fine,” she gently placed her hand on his elbow, “honestly, you’ve been so helpful with everything. i’m glad i even got this opportunity in the first place.”
she watched his partially open mouth close as his dark purple eyes dropped to her hand. before he could speak, someone else entered the room.
she quickly dropped her hand.
it was another teacher, mr. benson. she’d seen him send off other students during pick up time.
he immediately whistled at the sight of her, “yoo choso, who is this?”
she smiled tightly, hating when other people talked around her like that.
“this is k-“ he glanced at her before continuing, “ms. everest. she’s shadowing my class.”
“oh wow! nice to meet you, ms. everest. i’m dan benson.”
he noticed that she didn’t offer him her hand to shake, but she did offer him a genial smile.
“right back at you, mr. benson.”
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dan came to his classroom a lot after that. well, as much as he could anyway—which was hard since elementary school children usually demanded their teachers attention 24/7.
so it was usually around lunch time when he came to bug them. which usually consisted of him talking at choso while he ate and then roping kaori into unwanted conversation.
well, to be fair, it wasn’t like the conversation was boring but kaori was the worst when it came to people that she had a bad first impression of. it took her a lot to like them even if they tried.
but generally-all things aside-dan was a nuisance. it only took her a few days to figure out he’d be useless for her plans since he didn’t actually know much—about choso anyway.
just as the last kid grabbed their lunch bag and followed the hall monitor out the classroom to the cafeteria, kaori stood up from her desk. her desk was adjacent to choso’s and just about half the size of his.
he watched her stand.
“um-is it okay if i close the door?”
usually he left it open, allowing anyone who walked by to glance inside or wander in if they wanted—and boy did dan take advantage of that.
he held her gaze for a moment, “sure.”
she walked across the room, purposefully walking with a certain gait since she knew she was being watched. she closed the door only to jump when she heard his voice directly behind her.
“dan’s not coming, if that’s what your worried about.”
her eyes widened as she turned around. he was merely a foot away from her, his empty water bottle in hand. she hadn’t even heard him walk..
she finally found her words, “really?”
he nodded, “i asked him to come less frequently.”
she was a bit hesitant to ask but asked anyway, “why?”
“he talks too much.”
they stared at each other for a long moment before she started laughing. the corner of his mouth twitched.
she placed her hand over her chest, “i didn’t want to say it but yes he really does.”
he smiled subtly, “he usually comes by once a week but everyday.. is too much.”
she opened the door for him, knowing his ritual of going to the staff room to re-fill his water bottle.
she tilted her head, “i’m glad we agree.”
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if it was silence he wanted during lunch breaks, it certainly wasn’t what he got. they talked, a lot.
he knew she was a college student, with both in-person and online classes. that she was a commuter. that her friends were mostly her high school friends and she hated that fact. he knew she struggled to make new friends and he told her not to worry because he was the same.
she knew he had an apartment. that he had a younger brother in high school, whom he wanted to go to her college since it was nearby. he didn’t have any pets-because he was afraid of the responsibility (ha!). he liked to play the piano. and he really really valued his alone time.
he was truly comfortable in his introvertedness, and something about that made her appreciate him more.
he was truly content with his life. she could tell by the way he spoke about his job and family—well, just his brother but he was truly fond of him. and he didn’t take the responsibility of being an older brother lightly-it almost made her feel like she wasn’t doing enough for shi.
it was truly no wonder he was so good with kids.
watching the way he was with kids made her start to warm up to them as well. she began to look forward to her shadowing days more than she thought and she could only hope he did too.
ugh, the truth was she wanted him bad. the more she talked to him, the worse her crush got.
it got so bad that she started to wear tighter things during her shadowing gig. not that she already hadn’t been—but it was definitely more skimpier than before. like a dress-shirt that was a little too short-revealing a sliver of her navel-or a long sleeve thin enough to show the color of her lacey bra. or a fitted v-neck sweater that ran a little too low at the chest.
god she was a mess. but she couldn’t help but mess with him.
one time she knew he was walking near her and she dropped a toy block on purpose, bending over right as he passed.
she only saw a glimpse of him-through her peripheral vision-but he immediately stopped. from the quarter of his face she saw he was beet-red by the time she straightened, giving him enough room to pass.
ugh, but it wasn’t enough. it wasn’t nearly enough. she wanted him and she wanted him to want her just as much. the semester was almost over and she didn’t know what to do.
pathetically enough, she landed in shiloh’s room. she watched her younger sister play with toy cars in front of a multi-level barbie palace on the floor.
she lay beside her, resting her face on her propped hands, “shi, what do i do?” she sighed.
shi made her cars stop, “do whot?”
kaori eyed her, “i don’t like mr.kamo.”
shi’s doll-like eyes widened and kaori already knew she was in trouble.
“liar.”
“huhhh?” that was the last response kaori ever expected, “did you just call your big sis a liar??”
she shrugged, resuming her task of making two toy cars smash into each other, “you like kamo, i like kamo.”
she stared at shi in stunned silence. in truth, shi and her had gotten closer ever since she began to shadow his class. in fact, shi went to her first sometimes when she needed help, which was a feat considering how much she liked ‘mr.kamo’. even at home she noticed shi wanted to spend more time with her. she supposed that was another thing to credit mr.kamo for.
god, why do i keep thinking of him?!
kaori sighed, placing her head down on the floor. “i need help.” she mumbled to herself.
here she was thinking about a kindergarten teacher while she had untouched college homework and upcoming finals to worry about.
she felt a toy car glide through her hair, “mista kamo help you, kamo help me when i sad.”
“thanks shi.” -_-
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kaori was cleaning up the toys left on the carpet while the kids were at recess. it was nice to have some peace and quiet-or what would’ve been if mr. benson hadn’t decided to pop by.
in truth, she didn’t mind him as much now-since he came by less frequently-but whenever he did come he usually had interesting staff drama to share. she loved to eavesdrop on those convos even though choso seemed like he could care less.
to be honest he rarely looked like he cared about anything—or even, alive at that. except for when he was with the kids and during their little conversations (maybe she was just delusional).
she couldn’t help but believe it though. especially when she swore he was starting to smile more. she noticed he always smiled at her whenever she dealt with an issue amongst the kids—she hadn’t realized it’d become second nature for her to look to him to see if she’d done something right.
he was never a second late to offer her silent reassurance whether it be a nod or now, a smile. god, i am such a simp.
“bars?” his monotonous voice pierced through her thoughts, “you know i don’t go to bars.”
“oh, c’monn. its my birthday and i haven’t gotten shit-faced in a while. besides you haven’t met my new girlfriend, nai, yet. i really want you to meet her.”
she instinctively turned around, watching choso’s wide back-which faced her-as he seemed to be shuffling things around in his messenger bag. appearing to look for something.
“bars really aren’t my thing, benson.” he sounded distracted.
she placed the last of the displaced toys in the bin before standing up. dan immediately spotted her.
“kaori! you should come too. are you free this friday?”
choso immediately went still at that, glancing over his shoulder to find kaori right next to him. in her hand was the pen he’d been looking for.
he took it expressionlessly, though he couldn’t describe the turmoil he was feeling inside. it was a nonsensical thing really, but he had a habit of only bringing one pen with him wherever he went. he liked to use it until its last drop of ink before picking up another one.
and she’d found the exact pen he’d been using. he hadn’t even stated that he was looking for it and she’d known.
it wasn’t any of the pens from the cup-holder either, even though they all looked the same. it was the one with only a little bit of ink left, the exact amount he’d remembered seeing when he used it last.
he sure it was just a random compulsion of his, but to think she'd noticed...
“thank you.” he murmured.
she merely nodded before facing dan, “depends, what are you inviting me to?”
“my birthdays on friday and im inviting a few friends and colleagues out for dinner. we might hit a few bars after as well.”
dan suddenly paused, “wait, your over twenty one right?”
“yes.” lie.
“sweet,” he grinned, “then you should totally come.”
she leaned against choso’s desk, crossing her arms—completely unaware of choso’s eyes boring into her, “sure, i’ll come.”
“forreal? great! i’ll add you to the reservation.” dan whipped out his phone, appearing to do just that as he went on, “i’ll have choso forward you the details since he’s coming.”
“i am?” choso muttered.
“yes,” dan confirmed without a second’s hesitation. “you are, because you love and support me and cuz i’m your favorite co-worker.”
kaori pursed her lips to hold in her laugh.
choso rubbed his chin, “whatever helps you sleep at night.”
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it was friday, the day of the dinner and choso still hadn’t forwarded her the details. she wasn’t sure if that was his way of saying he didn’t want her to come.
she currently stood outside the school, beside him. waiting for the last few kids parents to show up before she could take shi and head on home herself.
she finally built the nerve to ask him, “mr. kamo?”
he glanced over at her, “yes?”
“do you mind sending me the details for tonight’s dinner?”
she stared ahead as he faced her. she could feel him examining her as she bent over to let one of kids know that their parent was here and waved them off.
she looked back at him once the kid made it safely to their parents arms.
“you still want to go?” he asked, somewhat monotonously.
“yeah,” she then added, “do you not want me to?”
“no, no,” he shook his head, as if just now realizing that that was how his words could perceived, “i just don’t want you to feel obligated to that’s all.”
she laughed lightly, “i don’t feel obligated, don’t worry. i would never feel forced to show up to a party.”
he sighed, “right.”
she smiled a bit, “a birthday dinner won’t kill you, i promise.”
“how are you certain.”
her smile widened at his attempt at humor, “i’m not, but i’ll be there? it’s your job shadow’s duty to follow you around and help out right?”
his eyes narrowed doubtfully, “sounds too good to be true.”
was he flirting? his voice rumbled too much to tell. goddammit, why’d his voice have to be so deep?
she laughed, internally refraining from responsing with all the things her flirt-wired brain wanted to say as she spoke, “i’ll see you tonight, mr. kamo.”
he nodded before glancing down at shi-who was holding onto his finger. he usually let kaori go home when all the kids but shi had left.
he offered shi the most handsome smile, “bye, lo-lo.”
shiloh let go of his finger to clutch his leg, “bye kamokamo.”
just as shiloh let go of him and held onto her finger. she felt a firm hand grasp her elbow.
“wait.”
kaori glanced back, her heart immediately racing.
“do you need a ride? for tonight?”
yes in more ways than one, mr. kamo.
she quickly shook her head. she was hoping he would ask but she wanted to keep him on his toes-for now, “that’s alright. thank you though.”
he let go of her, “ ‘course.”
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she stepped into the restaurant, feeling like an absolute bombshell. she knew there was no coming back from this but that was fine. she only had one more week left with him and it was all she could think about.
she wore a slip-style maroon mini dress that had the thinnest black straps known to man. there was a black net ruching at the bodice of the dress, emphasizing her bust just right. she’d used some heat on her hair as well, keeping her sparse bangs and layers swept in a way that made her look effortless yet feminine.
(a/n: in case anyone was curious here is the dress inspo)
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she pressed her lips together, making sure her lipstick was still intact as she followed the waiter. she walked with perfect ease in her heels as the waiter gestured towards their private table.
she briefly adjusted her shrug before letting her eyes sweep over everyone at the table.
dan’s eyes brightened, “kaori!”
she saw his head turn in her peripheral vision before she met his gaze. his hair was down—my god, his hair is down. it looked so good, his hair was just a little shorter than her own length.
he wore a fitted, dark gray dress-shirt with the sleeves rolled up and she couldn’t perceive much else because she felt him looking at her. she watched his dark purple eyes take her in. his eyes gliding down her face, her neck, her chest and everything below before finding her eyes once again. the light flush on his cheeks-under his face tattoo-was all she wanted.
she greeted everyone but him at first, before making her way to the empty seat beside him. she sat down, easily slipping off her shrug to hang it over the back of her chair before facing him.
his dark eyes were already on her and she smiled gently, “hi, mr. kamo.”
“ms. everest.” he greeted.
she leaned back in her seat, “i think it’s alright if you call me kaori here.”
“is it.”
she nodded before reaching over to take the champagne flute and take a sip. the restaurant was nice, it was inside a hotel and she had to pass a lot of floors in the elevator to get here.
but nothing was as nice as the man beside her. she didn’t know what cologne he was wearing but god it was making her wet. it didn’t help that his dress-shirt was slightly more unbuttoned at the collar than at work. she swore she could see a peek of his chiseled chest. and the swell of his triceps above his rolled up sleeves?? she'd already guessed the man was built from the subtle outline of his body she’d perceived but—this built?
she just wanted to rip his shirt off.
“kaori,” he said, with that typical deep riff to his tone. she already wanted to hear him say it again, “you can call me choso.”
finally. she smirked slightly, “choso.”
she tilted her head, “i’ve never seen you with your hair down.”
something at the corner of his lip flickered, “i’ve never seen you in a dress.”
that was true. and almost as if it were instinct she watched his eyes glance down to her legs. it was then she realized that her mini dress had hiked up now that she was sitting—an ample amount of her smooth legs free for him to see.
totally not a planned occurrence ;)
he immediately looked away, she didn’t miss the way his jaw tightened.
“do you like it?” she asked innocently.
he didn’t answer right away. he seemed to consider something before he spoke.
“it looks nice.”
of course he would say that. she wanted to smack him in the forehead, but no. this was how he was, and it ultimately made this a lot more fun than she intended for it to be.
she rested her head on her propped hand, “your hair down looks nice too.”
not that she ever minded his hair up in those two spiky ponytails. she’d already asked him why he styled it like that and his answer was simple—the kids loved it.
“thank you.” he muttered.
“when did you get here?”
“just five minutes before you.”
“not bad.”
“i’m surprised you're as early as you are.”
she grinned. she usually was the type to be chronically late to everything. she honestly didn’t know how she had a job, or this job shadowing gig.
“i wasn’t gonna ditch you, don’t worry.”
he squinted at her and she smiled.
“what did you gift him?” she asked.
“i paid for his gym membership for the rest of the year.”
her eyes widened, “what?”
he shrugged, “we both go to the same gym-sometimes together but rarely.”
the thought of him getting all sweaty in the gym… should not have made her feel the way it did. she had to see that in person one day. and maybe help him with cardio.
god, she needed to calm down. maybe taking a few hits from her dab pen wasn’t the best idea.
she lightly tapped her nails against her empty champagne flute, “are you gonna get anything to drink?”
“i did but it doesn’t taste that great.”
he pushed a multi-colored drink towards her. she hadn’t even noticed it was on the table but now that it was in front of her she couldn't help but find the drink rather aesthetic.
“you picked this?” she asked, humor interlaced in her tone. most guys she knew would call something that looked like this a girl drink.
“are you judging?”
“not at all.” she moved the straw between her lips, “what is this?”
“a zombie cocktail apparently.”
she laughed before taking a sip. the flavors that burst into her mouth were quite welcoming.
“mmm, this is good. what are you on about?” she lightheartedly asked before drinking more.
“it’s too sweet for me,” he stated airily, “maybe it’s because i’m hungry.”
hungry for what?
she closed her eyes, sipping the drink until it was done. she set the empty glass down, “i’m hungry too.”
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she was using a handkerchief to pat away any crumbs from her lips when dan whisper-yelled, “guys there’s actually a bar downstairs. let’s go, okay? let’s go.”
he was already drunk. he wasn’t able to sit still when the waiters came by to sing happy birthday, but she was able to get a funny video.
his girlfriend, nai, wiped a bit of marinara sauce from the corner of his lip.
“alright, alright, fool. they heard you. we’re all gonna go in a bit.”
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she was in the elevator, staring up at him. somehow they’d gotten placed like this.
the elevator was packed with their crew so she couldn’t fault him but-god, when he was this close all she could smell was his cologne. something about it was sexy, bitter and masculine, intriguing in a way she couldn’t describe.
they’d been talking all night and she didn’t want it to end. a pang went through her as she remembered they only had one more week together. one more week until her job shadowing with him would end.
“you okay?” his voice seemed to travel down her temple.
she tried not to take note of how he had to lean a bit lower to speak to her. she glanced up at him again, prying her eyes off his chest.
“yeah.” her voice sounded weak and breathy to her own ears.
she didn’t know how he managed to hear her amongst the ruckus going on in the elevator especially with dan’s loud, drunk-ass but he did.
“you don’t have to go to the bar if you don’t want to.”
a flirty retort rested on the tip of her tongue, but her nerves suddenly came fizzling through. it was hard to think when he stood so close, and looked down at her like that.
“i- i want to.”
she watched him search her face.
“okay.”
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the bartender handed her the drink.
“thanks.” she responded with a bright smile.
“i don’t think you should drink anymore than that.”
she glanced over to see choso seated on the stool beside her. he didn't know about her tolerance, and nor did he know that she was technically underage drinking butttt that was a problem for another time.
she tilted her head, “are you worried about me?”
she watched him run his teeth over his bottom lip, “depends. should i be?”
“does it look like i’m drunk?” she asked.
he observed her for a moment before answering, “not really but.. you’ve definitely drank enough to be.”
“what, can your wallet not handle it?” the drinks were really loosening her up.
he grinned-and something about it kicked off the most unruly butterflies in her gut.
she suddenly straightened in her seat, “honestly though, why won’t you let me pay for myself?”
she cradled the drink in her hands as she mumbled, “it’s not like we’re on a date.”
he easily removed the drink from her hands and set it back down on the bar. she knew he was afraid she would drop it.
she couldn’t help but notice how he sat facing her, his head resting on his propped arm. it was a small thing really but something about having all of his attention at once..
his low voice cut through the noise, “do i have to take you on a date to pay for you?”
she opened her mouth, ready to say whatever came to her tongue first until a man approached her.
she couldn’t hear what he said, all she noticed was the stark contrast of choso’s countenance now to when it was just them before. his jaw was clenched and the tilt of his lips betrayed a rather harsh annoyance.
she’d never seen him look this.. hostile.
she saw choso’s mouth move but couldn’t hear his response. all she knew was that his words were rather curt. no humor in them. no smile. no smile.
her fingertips touched his lips and his eyes flickered towards her.
all of the previous tension suddenly melted away from his features, “you didn’t want to talk to him right?” he asked lightly.
she shook her head.
“good.” he muttered against her fingers before he catching her wrist. he lowered her hand to her leg and lingered there a moment longer than he should’ve. his fingertips grazed her thigh, her skin was just so.. so soft.
he meant to quickly pull his hand away but suddenly she moved her hand was over his. keeping his palm flat against her smooth thigh.
“let’s go somewhere else.” she murmured quietly. he swore her eyes sparkled under the bar lights.
he was glad she said it because he wanted to leave too. he didn’t like all those leering eyes… on her.
it made him mad in a way that was different from the times he’d gotten mad before. he didn’t want to think too hard about it.
“let’s go.”
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“kaori-“ he glanced over to see her in the passenger seat, her back partially facing him.
“kaori.” he repeated. she still didn’t turn around.
he reached over then, gently moving her hair aside with his knuckles before noticing that she was passed out.
shit.
he knew he could just look up her address in his student directory due to shiloh but.. she lived with her parents. how would her parents react to seeing him there? he assumed she’d already told them she was his voluntary teacher aide at this point, right?
he frowned. he couldn’t be too sure with her. what if she hadn’t told her parents she was out at a birthday dinner—or that she was staying out late at all? did she drive here herself?
he drove around the parking lot, eyeing the cars. he didn’t spot her car.
he pulled over then, glancing at her beside him once more. she lay curled up on the seat now, her legs drawn against her chest, with her hand loosely over her purse and shrug. her sparkly eyeshadow glimmering in the dim car lights.
kaori kaori kaori
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she felt a something soft get thrown over her and immediately woke up. she quickly sat up, only to feel a firm hand grasp her shoulder.
“it’s me.”
he watched her anxious expression completely melt away the second she saw him. something inside him softened at the sight.
“did i.. fall asleep?”
he nodded, “yeah in my car.”
he reached for the glass of water on the coffee table and handed it to her. she gulped it down, taking long sips before setting it down and patting the couch space beside her.
he complied, outstretching his arms atop of the backrest as he plopped down. he was rather exhausted, his social battery was shot for the night.
she couldn’t help but take note of the few inches between them. she watched him lean his head back and close his eyes. he looked so relaxed. his adam’s apple bobbing slightly as he exhaled slowly.
her eyes dropped down to the few open buttons at his collar. had he opened more? she just wanted to open them all.
she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to gather herself before she opening them again to look around. his place was sparsely decorated but not entirely empty. it looked minimalistic, modern.
she was finally here.
“you have a nice place.” she complimented. truly, it suited him.
“thanks.” his voice rumbled before he raised his head and looked at her. “i- i can take you home if your ready.”
she shook her head, “i’m not ready..”
she kicked off the blanket off and stretched her legs atop his lap. “i think i need to rest more.”
his eyes immediately went to her legs, fuck, he wanted to touch them. he was supposed to move her off but..
he closed his eyes and moved her legs off of him, “kaori-“
“why do you do that?” suddenly she was straddling him, her pretty face right above his and her hands propped atop his shoulders. her groin merely inches above his.
his eyes were wide, “kaori-!”
“no.” she cupped his chin.
his eyes dropped down to see that her dress had hiked all the way up, above her hips. revealing the tiniest sexiest lace black panties he’d ever seen. he nearly groaned.
she yanked his chin up, “look at me.” she demanded.
“i am.”
his voice was so husky she nearly caved and kissed him but no- he needed to listen first. especially since his hands were digging into the couch’s backrest like his life depended on it. he was still holding back.
“why do you act like you don’t want me?” she demanded.
his dark purple eyes narrowed, “you already know everyone wants you.” he spat.
one of her hands fisted his collar as she leaned close. her face was directly above his now, her chest close to his chin.
“then why didn’t you act on it?”
“you’re my aide, for fucks sake. the sibling of one of my students. there’s too many—“ he flushed, barely able to get his words out, “-it's not app-“
she grabbed his collar tighter, her glare sharpening, “that didn’t stop you from thinking about me though, did it?”
his eyebrows skyrocketed.
"did you think i didn't see the way you look at me?"
"what way?"
"you check me out every morning."
his flush deepened as he gritted out, "do all your shirts have to be so tight?"
"if you had a problem you should've said so."
"you did that on purpose, didn't you?"
"what are you gonna do about it?"
she felt his muscles contract underneath her hand at his shoulder but he quickly looked away, “kaori, stop.”
he didn't meet her eyes until she loosened her grip on his collar.
“i-i’m a virgin.”
“what?” she nearly shouted.
his face was nearly crimson now, but she didn’t care. she didn’t understand how that was possible but something about the vulnerability and embarrassment in his expression made her believe him.
"is that supposed to stop me.." she murmured while cupping his chin, "that didn't stop you, did it? you still thought of me when you touched yourself didn't you."
“kaori—“ his eyes were blown wide, his breath staggering.
she lowered her hips slightly, still not touching his groin.
her hand slid down to his chest, “i still think you know what to do..”
she was careful to only use her fingertips when she played with the zipper of his pants.
“i think you know exactly what you wanna do to me..” she whispered, tearing the last shred of self restraint he had.
she almost screamed when he ripped off her panties with one firm tug of his fist. he unzipped his pants so fast it was just a blur, any shred of control she thought she had over the situation was torn away the second he grabbed her hips and sank her down on his cock.
he stared at her open mouth as she dug her nails into his shoulders. he was so fucking big, she couldn’t think.
she glanced down to see that he’d only managed to fit half of himself inside. half? wtf—there’s more? she glanced at him to see he was panting. his hands on her hips slowly raising her before bringing her down again, making her bounce on his cock.
“you feel so fucking good, kaori.” his fingers digging into her soft hips as his cock twitched.
“so tight.” he breathed out haggardly, still dragging her up and down his cock.
she kept a hand on his shoulder as she placed the other over his on her hip. she tried to move her hips with him but her thighs kept trembling.
she pressed her forehead against his, a low whine coming from her as he picked up the pace.
“y-your so fucking big, you know that?” she whined, biting her lower lip to keep her moans together. his cockhead was bumping into her most sensitive spots and she was trying not to think about the rest of his cock fitting inside of her.
“you got me like this.” he grumbled, “s’your fault.”
suddenly he forced her hips lower and she shrieked, “choso-!”
his lips were on her—kissing her hard, as his cock pumped fast and deep inside her. he kept her hips still as he fucked her. using all the strength his legs to let out his frustration. he would’ve nutted in her the second he got inside if he hadn’t masterbated before the dinner.
and yet, he was already close.
she broke the kiss, clutching his shoulders as she moaned and whined prettily. her long fingernails digging into his skin, sparking little bouts of pain that only made him thrust faster.
“c-chose! p-please-nnnngh! t’much—ugghh!”
he couldn’t think. it was like something else had taken over inside him. all he wanted was her, her.
the tip of his cock twitched inside her.
her nails dug into the back of his head, “choso, unnghh-y-you have to pull out—hnnngh, fuck! so good-“
he pounded into her the fastest his hips could let him. his cock was drenched in her juices, her body felt so fucking hot—so perfectly wet. her pussy was coiling around him like it wanted him to cum.
so he did, he couldn’t think. merely spewing thick loads of cum straight into her warmth.
she gaped, her eyes fluttering closed as she felt all of it. so much cum fill up her narrow insides. she felt it leak down her inner thighs and shivered. shivered hard enough that he held her shoulders.
“kaori,” he panted. his face was flushed, strands hair dark hair pasted to his forehead. “kaori.”
he pressed his forehead into hers, “m’sorry,” he lightly moved her hair out of her face as she fell into him.
“i can't—couldn’t stop,” he panted before groaning slightly as he shifted his hips, his cock still inside her. her insides were coiling and un-coiling around him. “you feel.. too good.”
suddenly she was upright, kissing him desperately, like her life depended on it. she hugged him tight, slipping her arms around him as he gripped her hair, keeping her lips on his as his cock drilled into her once more.
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she was naked now, her hands flat against the table as his cock bullied into her.
she pressed her head down on the table, “f-fuck!”
his cock slammed in and out of her at lightspeed. she was sure he’d made all of himself fit inside her at this point. especially since she felt his balls slap her cunt with each rough fuck. he truly did fuck like he was pent up for a while.
she wasn’t sure if she could take it.
he groaned as she tightened around him. her juices squirting all over the place as he continued to bully her pussy.
she moaned so fucking loudly, she would’ve been embarrassed if she was watching herself.
he gripped her hips hard enough to hurt, she was sure there was going to be bruises later. his forehead pressed into the crown of her head, one his large hands cupping hers over the table.
“this is what you wanted right? hmm?”
he gritted out, his cock slamming into her at a punishing pace.
“y-yes! nnnnh-ohmy ohmy godnnchoso! choso!”
she came again, cumming so hard her legs shook and she no longer could lay still if he hadn’t been gripping her hips.
his voice was ragged, “good girl.”
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she was spread open, on full display for him on his bed. she stared up at him and his muscular body as his cock moved inside of her. the insides of her thighs sticky with his cum.
“choso,” she moaned, weakly shaking her arms which were held down by his own. his fingers interlaced with hers.
“m’close, baby, i’m close.” he murmured into her cheek.
her back arched as she felt it. she felt his cockhead twitch inside of her and she knew she was gonna get addicted. addicted to feeling so full of his hot sticky cum, addicted to feeling so stretched by his thick curved cock.
“nnnnggggggh,” she whined. she was gonna loose it.
the bed shook his cock pounded into her. he knew the neighbors were gonna give him shit for the noisy headboard later but fuck, the way her tits swung with each rough fuck. god, he never thought he would get to see them.
nor did he think he would get to mark up the pretty skin of her neck. or kiss her so hard that lips would swell. she looked like a goddess, just waiting to get undone.
her tear stained eyes stared up at him, “kiss me, choso.” she begged. the simple order making his chest bloom with wanton.
he kissed her, with a bruising intensity. so forceful that he couldn’t hear how loud the noises of them fucking were. only focused on the feeling of her. of how her pussy suctioned his cock like it was made for him, like it craved him.
he groaned, pressing her body deep into the sheets as he ground his cock into her. spewing load after load in her perfect little cunt.
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she awoke to his face in her neck and his firm arms wrapped around her chest. he was clutching her like she would escape.
she shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable only for him to squeeze one of her tits.
“stop moving.” he grumbled sleepily.
she froze before everything from last night flipped through her memory and she smiled girlishly.
she glanced over at him, at the head of dark hair buried in her neck and the broad back that followed it. she didn’t miss all the nail marks embedded in his skin.
now that he was finally shirtless she could see that his arms were truly a work of art. each muscle protruding against his pale skin and his veins—something about the way they traveled down his forearms made her swoon.
she bit her lower lip, “can i use the bathroom, mr. kamo?”
she felt him shift on the bed, groaning grumpily before mumbling, “you can’t shadow me after this.”
“that’s fine, we only had a week left anyway.”
he seemed to freeze at that, before raising his head from her shoulder, “you seem.. too okay with that.”
she turned over, resisting the urge to smile the second she saw his face. he was just so handsome— his dark hair was barely messy, merely framing his neck and face in a way that made him look like a hot biker. and the hickeys on his neck—myyy, she’d forgotten she’d done those.
she bit her lower lip to hide her grin once again, “well i got what i wanted out of it.”
he raised his brows, “what?”
she resisted the urge to laugh, “wellll there’s kind of a lot i should probably tell you.”
he leaned back more, as if wanting to clearly see her face as she said this. the crease in his brow deepened, “like?”
“you can’t get mad at me.”
“oh great." he shook his head as he joked sardonically, "as long as you don’t tell me you’re a minor i’m fine.”
“well..”
his face dropped.
“joking!” she giggled, “i’m joking. i’m actually nineteen.”
“what?!” he exclaimed, “i saw your ID. your twenty three.”
“that’s actually my fake ID.”
he ran a hand through his hair as he sat up straight, “christ, your closer to my little brothers age than mine.”
she followed him up, only to wince when her body suddenly ached all over. she decided to stay laying down, merely reaching her arm out to rest atop his leg.
“listen, i’m sorry. i should’ve told you but i just didn’t know how to bring it up-“
“that means you were drinking underage last night.” he was frowning.
she clutched his hand, “yes, i was. but who doesn’t?”
his frown turned into a glare.
she squeezed his hand, “choso, please! just hear me out. i know i shouldn’t have lied but i really like you.. i liked you the second i saw you and i wanted to get close to you but i didn’t know how.”
“you liked me the second you saw me?” he repeated doubtfully. “why didn’t you just tell me?”
“if i asked for your number the first day we met, would you have given it to me?” she asked while playing with his fingers.
he opened his mouth, eager to say 'yes' until it dawned on him. "..no."
"exactly. conflict of interest, right?"
his brows furrowed as he contemplated the situation. he chuckled dryly, "so that's why you asked to shadow me, hm? get some teachers-ed experience and talk to some eye-candy." he shook his head, "two birds, one stone."
“welllll,” she felt her face heat up, “i’m actually just a math major.”
“…and an education major. you double majored in both.”
“nope,” she pursed her lips, “just a math major.”
“WHAT?!”
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195 notes · View notes
golden-barnes · 1 year
Text
Operation milkshakes, hospital visits and custody of Mr Bear
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Paring: Beefy and Teacher! Bucky x milf! reader Summary: Sequel to Operation get Mr Bucky and Momma together. Bucky and Reader are finally on their little coffee date, but Amaya gets hurt. Then there's a shared custody to heal a broken arm. {wc: 2.7k} Warning: a bit of bucky being insecure again and a bit of insecurity from reader . Some sexual references bit of tension but its mostly fluff. Amaya gets hurt but it's brief. if you don't like a milf reader pls don't interact I don't want to get hate like last time lmao a/n: I have been writing this for years it seems and I finally am able to finish it and I'm so happy I hope you guys enjoy it. I am gonna try and finish all of my stories this month to be able to do other stuff. I am so sorry if it's shitty as hell, I tried my best to fight the writter's block Reblogs and comments are appreciated.
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Is Bucky embarrassed that he has been texting none stop with his student’s mom? Yes, but who will stop him from feeling like he is walking on cloud nine? For the past few weeks, Bucky has been texting you back and forth whenever you had a break. 
Unfortunately, you haven’t been able to get that cup of coffee because of work, but Bucky knew he had found his match. Funny, intelligent, and the sweetest person he has ever met. 
Fuck, I feel like a love-struck schoolboy. Bucky thinks, cursing at himself while passing the exam papers to his students. Amaya smiled at him, basically giving him a knowing smirk. Holy shit, he feels blackmailed by a 6-year-old. 
She has no idea that Bucky and her mom are on a talking stage, but that doesn’t stop her from smirking at her teacher, who her mom has told her auntie that her teacher was cute. And that was enough for her already planning your wedding where she gets to be a flower girl. 
 Bucky sat down at his desk when he felt his phone vibrate. The notification had your name on it, almost making Bucky jump out of his seat. 
Hey, one of my clients canceled for Friday. U wanna get that coffee? 
Bucky couldn’t seem to write yes faster. He felt so happy, but shit, what was he going to wear? His closet comprises of henleys and sweaters. The occasional tank tops are there, but they weren’t the norm. He dresses like a middle-aged librarian, and he is proud of it. But, on the other hand, maybe he was overthinking it.
“Dude, it’s a coffee date. Not a Michelin restaurant.” Steve rolls his eyes at Bucky’s rant. Bucky told his best friends about inner turmoil and why he was so stressed. Sam just laughed at him.
“We don’t know about that one Rogers; she is a fancy lawyer for a fancy firm. She’s probably making the big bucks.” Sam winked at Bucky, which made him feel even more stressed. 
What if they dated, and she felt embarrassed to show him to her lawyer friends? He is on a New York Public school salary, it’s a miracle he has enough money to live alone, but he was going to be rooming with Steve. 
“Sam, stop torturing him, please. I can see the smoke coming out of his ears.” Wanda explained, heating up her lunch and smirking at her extremely stressed friend. 
“He is just so fun to mess with.”Sam whined while Bucky couldn’t help but scoff. 
“I am glad my suffering is your enjoyment, but I am about to run away to New Jersey and live as a hermit because I haven’t been on a date since college, and I have no fucking clue what to wear. Help me.” Bucky rambles, almost out of breath. Sam bites back a chuckle while Steve just looks worried. Wanda sighs; being the only person with brain cells in the teacher’s lounge is difficult.
“Bucky, wear that brown blazer you wore at my engagement party. Maybe a blue henley underneath. You did say she thought you looked hot in those, so who cares, honestly. “ Wanda Maximoff, the voice of reason to these messy elementary school teachers once again. 
Bucky should stop asking these things to Sam and Steve and just ask go directly to Wanda. 
(Y/N) wasn't doing that great either. She really liked Bucky; he was a hot guy but caring and smart. He made her laugh with his dorky quotes and references. He was well-read and gave her excellent book recommendations. 
More importantly, Amaya loved him. Every day she would show up rambling about something he had done in class that made her very happy. Whether it was telling her a funny story using Mister Bear, Bucky’s teaching assistant that Amaya adored, or handing her a fruit roll-up when the other kids weren't looking. Bucky was her favorite teacher, but it mostly felt like he had taken a father role that she needed.
One thing that made her stress out was how she was perceived. She had been on dates before, and every time the men went home running with their tails between their legs after feeling threatened by her confidence and career. 
Being a single mother and a powerful lawyer really fucked over her chances of dating. Apparently, knowing your worth and what you want doesn’t make you that appealing to men, especially these insecure, fragile masculinity-having assholes. 
But Bucky seemed different; he knew she had a kid and an influential career and still wanted to date her? He was different. 
“You still overthinking this date?” Her coworker and close friend, Jen, asked her. Nat rolled her eyes, knowing (Y/N) like the back of her hand. 
“She has been making a pros and cons list on her computer for the past hour. Girl, he likes you. No grown man texts you romantic quotes at 3 am without sending a you up? Text.” Natasha rambles but (Y/N) sighs. She knows what Nat is saying is correct, but still… She didn’t want to make things awkward for ‘Maya. 
“She has it really bad, but he seems so sweet. It’s just a coffee date; get to know him in person.” Jen tried to comfort her. She patted her shoulder, sorta giving (Y/N) a side hug. 
“Now on to date outfits. I say a plaid skirt and a sweater. The skimpiest skirt you have.” Nat grins evilly. 
“It’s a coffee date, not a hookup.” (Y/N) laughs at her suggestion. 
“Whatever you say, but that man’s shoulders are so broad that it wouldn’t be surprising if your legs were on them after the night.” Nat shrugs, but (Y/N) and Jenn laugh at the sexual joke. 
“I am trying not to give Maya a sibling yet.” (Y/N) threw a piece of paper at Nat. 
“Yet is the keyword in that sentence.” Nat winked at her comment. 
Bucky was shifting his weight on the chair. They had decided to meet at this cute little café that opened about a month ago. It was right next to a bookstore that Bucky loved so much, and coincidently (Y/N) took Amaya a lot to get her story time books. 
“Sorry I am late; traffic was horrible.” Bucky swore his breath was stolen from his chest because the minute he saw her, he felt like his lungs didn’t have air. 
“I- uhm, I get it. You look beautiful, by the way.” (Y/N) smiled at his compliment while sitting right before him. 
“You don’t look bad yourself.” She winked at the teacher, who started sweating bullets once she began to compliment him. 
“Are you ready to order?” The waitress asks the couple. (Y/N) nods while Bucky just looks puzzled at the menu. She smiled at him.
“Give us a minute, please.” (Y/N) said kindly. 
“Do you have any idea what you are going to order? If you don’t mind me asking?” Bucky asks sheepishly, but the woman just smiles. 
“I am dying to try this plum strudel, especially since Maya isn’t here to steal my pieces. And I need a milkshake.” (Y/N) explained; Bucky couldn’t help but laugh.
“Amaya is a bit of a sugar fiend, isn’t she? I can’t even eat my fruits in peace without her looking at me as if I stole them from her.” Bucky joked, (Y/N) rolled her eyes because she knew her daughter.
“It’s not a shocker. It’s practically my fault. When I was pregnant with her, all I did was eat candy. I have a sweet tooth, but she’s like a sugar monster.” She explained, reminiscing all the pregnancy cravings she had. Bucky laughed at her comment. 
“You sure you don’t want coffee?” Bucky asks all of a sudden. Finding it weird that she is ordering a milkshake at a café. She shook her head.
“Oh god, no. It would be my 5th coffee this day. I’ve had back-to-back meetings, and every meeting has a coffee run. Then there’s the coffee between every 15-page contract I have to write.” Bucky chuckles because that seems like he is the same in a completely different way. 
“I get you. After grading my 10th paper, I’ve already drank 3 cups of coffee. My record is 7 in one day. I was planning on getting the milkshake too.” Bucky joked, (Y/N) laughed. 
“So we are two coffee addicts on a coffee date, but we aren’t gonna drink any coffee. Got it.” (Y/N) smirked at Bucky. He felt his ears getting red. Suck it up, Bucky; she hasn’t even said anything sexual. She is just being funny. Bucky said to himself. 
“It appears that we are. I hope you don’t mind, but I’mma order the same thing as you. I love plums. My ma makes the best plum pie I’ve ever eaten.” Bucky rambled, trying to stop himself from buckling under her gaze. Suddenly (Y/N)’s phone rings. 
“Hey MJ, what’s up? Oh what? I am on my way.” (Y/N) hangs up, her face turns somber, and her eyes are filled with tears. 
“I am so sorry, Bucky, but I have to go. Amaya fell, and the babysitter told me she won't stop crying. Her arm might be broken, and I must take her to the hospital.”  She says, gathering up her purse. She was shaking, trying to stand up, but her legs were shaking. Bucky stands up to help her. 
“Can you drive?” (Y/N) shook her head, worried because Amaya was always careful. She runs around like any normal kid but is ultra-cautious about getting hurt. Bucky extended his hand, and she grabbed it. 
She gave him the directions to her house so Bucky could drive her home. She hadn’t really said anything during the entire ride; Bucky didn’t know what to do, so he did what he did best. Ramble on.
“You know I broke my arm around the same age. But mine was in a fight.” Bucky said, which got (Y/N)’s attention. 
“Back when we were kids, Steve was the smallest kid in our classroom, and there was this kid named Tom; he kept pushing him and making fun of him. So one day, I stood up for him and decided I could fight Tom. I should mention that Tom was 2 grades above us, so anyway, he pushed me so hard that I fell. Broke my arm and wasn’t allowed to go to recess anymore. My teacher, Sally, knew that Tom was a bully and got me a lesser sentence.” Bucky told her. She smiled.
“So you were a troublemaker as a kid. Kinda like my ‘Maya.” She joked, smiling, talking about her little girl. 
“Oh, Amaya is a little angel in comparison to me. She is manipulative as hell, but she’s a sweet kid. Takes after her mom.” Bucky complimented. (Y/N) sighed at his compliment. 
“I tried my best. It’s not easy, you know. Being a single mom. Sometimes I think I don’t do enough and that I am never there, but-” 
“Listen, I have been a teacher for a while now. I have seen parents who don’t care and never show up for their kids. You aren’t one of them. I know for a fact that every Wednesday, you take her to a museum or an interactive place. You are her person, and I think you are a fantastic mom. “ Bucky interrupts. He grabs her hand, and she squeezes it. Bucky parks in front of her house. Her big ass house. He keeps forgetting that she is, in fact, a well-paid lawyer. 
Amaya did indeed have a broken arm. Bucky had to carry her to the car and into the hospital. He even sat with her when she was getting her X-ray while (Y/N) talked with the doctors. 
“I wish all dads were like you.  You really made this a lot easier for her.” The nurse said, looking directly at Bucky, who was holding a very tired Amaya. Bucky felt his ears getting warm. 
“I’m not her dad.” The nurse scoffed at Bucky’s correction. 
“Could’ve fooled me with how she’s so attached to you.” She noted. (Y/N) walked into the room with the doctor.
“Hey, ‘Maya.” The little girl in Bucky’s arms stirred at the sound of her mom’s soothing voice. (Y/N)’s eyes were puffy, probably from crying at seeing her baby in pain. Bucky wanted to hug her and Amaya, but he couldn’t really move with a child in his arms with a broken arm. 
“The doctor needs you to sit on the little table over there to check you out.” (Y/N) said, which caused Amaya to slightly shake her head and grip Bucky’s arm with her non-broken hand. (Y/N) looked at Bucky in the eyes, almost pleading with him to help. 
“Amaya, if you sit there, you’ll get to take Mister Bear for the entire month.” Bucky wasn’t new to bribing kids, it’s sometimes the last resort, but Bucky knew how much Amaya loved Mister Bear. The little girl smiled weakly and turned to look at her doctor. (Y/N) smiled at Bucky, she mouthed him a thank you. Bucky was sure his cheeks were glowing red.
“Please, Mister Bucky, sign my cast.” Amaya said, giving him a pen to sign her super bright pink cast. Finally, she calmed down after they put the cast on her, and she got to pick a color. Then, they returned to (Y/N)’s house, where MJ, the babysitter, was still in the place, worried for little Maya.
Bucky laughed, signing his name on her cast and adding a roughly made butterfly. Amaya giggled at the butterfly. Bucky didn’t even notice (Y/N) walking towards them. 
“How are we gonna do the custody for Mister Bear?” She asks, noticing that Amaya is walking towards MJ so she would sign her cast. 
“Well, I use it as a teaching tool, so I have to have it during the day.” Bucky explained. (Y/N) nodded.
“And I can’t pick up Maya this week because I am in court all day.” She added. 
“I can bring him over after work if you want. “ Bucky suggests. (Y/N) extends her hand for Bucky to shake it. 
“I can agree to that, Mr. Barnes.” She said, smiling at Bucky. 
Bucky could die right now, and he would be happy. But who would’ve known that a ruined date could be saved by a shared custody agreement of a teddy bear with a 6-year-old? 
For the past week, Bucky brought Mister Bear for Amaya to play with. After giving the girl the bear, he wouldn’t leave the house. Oh no, no. (Y/N) would give him food, and he would even eat dinner with them. They talked for hours about shows, movies, their childhoods, and just everything they could think of with a glass of wine. Amaya would go to bed, and they would stay up talking, even if they had to wake up early. 
Bucky and (Y/N) had told Amaya that he was staying over for dinner in exchange for Mister Bear because saying, “Hey, mama and your teacher like each other a lot, but you can’t tell anyone” is too much for a 6-year-old. 
What they didn’t count for was that Amaya was too smart for her own good. She knew it was strange that Bucky stayed for dinner and that her mom would wear her “special” perfume whenever Mister Bucky came over. So is this how she’s gonna get a dad? And all she had to do was break her arm. 
Bucky was talking to Steve when Amaya approached him with a book. Both men turned their attention to the little girl with the bright pink cast. 
“Mister Bucky, Mister Bear and I want to read this book tonight. Could you bring it over later?” Steve’s eyes widened, and he turned to his best friend, bewildered by the revelation made by the kid. 
Bucky nodded, trying not to speak because he felt like Steve would have a heart attack if he had verbal confirmation that he was going to (Y/N)’s house every day. 
“James Buchannan Barnes, are you sleeping with your student’s mom?”Steve whisper-s creamed once Amaya was out of hearing range. 
“I am not sleeping with her… We just eat dinner together, and I bring Mister Bear for Amaya. It’s our custody agreement.” Bucky tried to explain, but Steve looked like the vein on his forehead would pop. 
“Fuck Bucky, you are in deep shit now,” Steve whispered. Wait until Bucky tells him he is utterly in love with his student’s mom. Oh shit, what?
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emilysslvt · 6 months
Text
Halloweekend
Halloween was always your favorite, and even though you were a college student studying to be an FBI agent, you always loved to party. Until your professor, Emily Prentiss, saw you extremely intoxicated.
happy halloween everyone, have a good day :) i'll enjoy it being high. веселиться 🥂
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warnings: swearing, smut, drinking, smoking
Halloweekend was your favorite time of the year, to dressing up slutty, going to frat parties, and drinking like you're 16 all over again. Since you started criminology, you never really did stuff like that anymore. But your best friend begged and begged until you finally gave in.
She sat on your bed, waiting for you to show her your outfit. You didn't want to go too revealing, so you wore a skirt and a cropped shirt. You went as Freddy Krueger.
You told her to open her eyes, and she clapped. "Oh, yes! Finally, something other than your boring regular clothes. We are going to have the best night tonight!" She exclaimed.
You rolled your eyes at the comment, "thank you, Max. Just what I needed tonight. My professor has assigned a lot of work, and I need to relax." Picking up your purse, you held your hand out for Max and she gratefully took it.
"Professor Prentiss again? She never gives you a break! Always on your ass and no one else's." Max huffed, as you both left your dorms and made your way across campus.
You laughed slightly, "I know. Today she yelled at me because I was on my phone, but some kid was on his too and she didn't say anything to him. It was a text from my mom, I am usually never on it."
Max shrugged, "maybe she has a crush on you." You slapped her arm, and she laughed.
"Yeah, right. She's too professional for that. But I wouldn't be opposed to it, she's so fucking fine." You admitted. You always had a small crush on her, no matter how intimidating she was. In fact, that made her so much hotter.
You and Max continued your conversation until you got to the frat party. You easily got in, as you both knew who was in the frat. Plus, they loved young hot women.
As soon as you got in there, you were handed shots. Max hit her shot glass against yours, and you both downed them. It was like that for the next 3 hours. You had lost count on how many shots you had, and how many times you lost Max. She always did that at parties, you should've known by now.
It was almost 2am, and you had classes in the morning. Once you came to the realization, you made your way out of the house. Not without stumbling, and almost dropping all of your shit. You hated walking alone, but you knew Max was definitely with some guy. You were on your own for the night.
Half way to your dorm, you needed to sit down. You were tired, and about to pass out. You sat on the grass, grabbing a cigarette from your bag. You lit it, and sat there smoking. Yes, the grass was dirty and gross but you didn't care at the time.
"Y/n? Is that you?"
You heard your name, and you opened your eyes. You looked up at the mysterious woman standing in your view, and your mouth slightly dropped.
You put your sober face on, which wasn't convincing at all. "Oh shit. Professor Prentiss!"
"Y/n, what the hell are you doing outside at 2am smoking a fucking cigarette?" She asked, bending over to get a better view of you.
"Oh, well.. you know. Regular Saturday night." Your words slurred, barely making any sense.
Your professor looked frustrated, and she sighed. "Come on. Get up." She held her hand out for you, and you took it. As she pulled you up, you stumbled and dropped your cigarette.
You were sad, looking down at it. "Aw man. I can't believe I dropped it." As you went to pick it up, you almost fell right along with your cigarette. Your professor immediately grabbed your waist, holding you in place.
She sighed, holding you up. "How much did you fucking drink? Where is your dorm? And why are you walking by yourself? That's dangerous, and you out of all these students should know that." Your professor said, wrapping your arm around her shoulder.
"Hahaha I don't really know where my dorm is. And my friend is definitely being fucked by a frat guy right now." You said, giggling to yourself. You barely made any sense, but to yourself it made sense. Well, barely.
"How do you not kn- you know what? You'll stay at my house until you're sober." Your professors tone was off, she sounded pissed. But at the same time, you were too drunk to notice. Or care.
The rest of the night was a blur, you fell asleep on your professors bed but you couldn't remember that. You woke up the next morning, cursing at yourself from how bad your hangover was.
Once your eyes were able to open, you realized you weren't in your dorm. You started to panick, thinking the worst. Up until your professor walked in with a cup in her hand.
She made her way towards you, placing the cup in front of you. "Thought you might need this." You smiled, taking it from her and immediately drinking it. The warm feeling hitting your lips made you feel like a winter day when you had a snow day.
Your professor sat next to you, watching you closely. "Do you remember anything from last night?" You placed the cup on the nightstand next to her bed, as you tried to recollect your thoughts.
You shrugged, deciding to be honest. "I remember before the party. Half hour at the party. That's about it. I think I blacked out immediately. Max told me I needed to blow off some steam, and so I kept taking shot after shot."
She sighed, running her tongue along her lip as she pulled her lip between her teeth. Your eyes watched her tongue, as you always thought that was extremely hot.
"I found you outside around 2am, you were in the grass smoking a cigarette. You couldn't remember where your dorm was. I hope you know that was extremely dangerous, and there are other ways to blow off steam rather than drinking yourself to death." She went on. You knew she was right, and hearing what you did was a tad embarrassing. Now she knew you smoked, and that you were an idiot for forgetting your dorm room.
"And how do you blow off steam, professor?" You asked, tilting your head. She smirked, shaking her head. She avoided the question, and she stood up.
Your professor stood rather close to you, and you watched her eyes quickly dart from your chest back up to your eyes. "You have class in 45 minutes, would you like to go back to your dorm to get ready?"
"I asked you a question, professor. How do you blow off steam?" You were curious as to why she avoided the question. Plus, you didn't want to leave. The way she made you feel like a teenage girl every time her eye lingered your body, or the way she talked in a low tone.
She took a moment to think. Her lips parted, but no words came out. You watched the smirk form on her lips, "would you like me to show you?" You bit your lip nervously, watching as she leaned over you. You felt her breath on your neck, making you lean your head back a bit.
She grew impatient, waiting for your response. "You need to learn your lesson from last night, don't you think?" She whispered in your ear, as she bit the tip of your ear, sending chills down your spine.
You never wanted something so bad. Scratch that. Needed. "Yes, professor."
Her smirk grew, pushing you against her bed. You propped yourself up by your elbows, as she straddled your lap. "Perhaps you need to be punished?"
"I didn't do anything that bad to be punished, professor." You stated. You knew you did, but arguing with an older woman was always fun. And hot.
She leaned down, pressing her lips to your neck as her hand dragged down your body. "No? So getting drunk to forget your problems wasn't bad, hm?" Her lips grazed your neck, as she got closer to your lips. "Or walking by yourself at 2am? Becoming a profiler, you should know better than that." The gap between your lips was killing you. She was so close, but so far.
Her hand slipped under your cropped shirt, her finger grazed the bottom of your bra making you crave her touch even more. "Please touch me.."
With her free hand, she drew the outline of your jaw with her finger. "Do you think you deserve it?"
At this point? Yes. It was torture. The way she slightly touched you, turning you on by barely even touching you. "No.. but I need you." Your words came out in a whisper, but she was happy with the answer.
Your professor ran her hand along your neck, pushing your head to the side. "Tell me how bad you need me."
You were impatient, you needed her now. "Please touch me, professor. I need you. I crave your touch." You sounded pathetic, but professor Prentiss seemed to like it.
"Good girl." Her hand kept a grip on your neck as she slammed her lips against yours, her knee pushed your legs apart as she pressed it against where you needed her most. The kiss was filled with desperation and lust, the way she bit your bottom lip, how it felt so wrong but yet so right.
Her knee pushing against you made you softly moan against her lips, and you felt her smirk. You loved it when she did that. As she pulled away, she bit your bottom lip. You whined at the loss of contact, but her lips soon found your neck. Your hands found her hair as she sucked on your soft skin, leaving a hickey.
Her hand wandered down your stomach, until it found your the hem of your skirt. She slid her hand into your skirt, and she circled your clothed clit, as she lifted her head to whisper in your ear. "Can I touch you?"
"Yes. Please, touch me. Please."
"Needy, are we?" Her tone was low, filled with lust and dominance. You were so turned on, you needed her so fucking bad. You were pulled out of your thoughts when you felt her fingertips cirling your clit. Her pace was slow, painfully slow. You were so desperate and needy even though her lips were on your neck, and her fingers were on your clit.
Emily lifted her head, "take your shirt off." As she was still keeping her slow pace, you slightly lifted yourself up, pulling your shirt off. Her eyes immediately found your breasts, and with her free hand she unclipped it, letting it fall to the side of her bed.
Her pace sped up as she slightly leaned over, circling your nipple with her tongue before pulling it between her teeth. Soft moans left your mouth as she sucked on your nipple, and her fingers were working your clit. You never felt so good before, and it felt even better just by being fucked by your professor.
Your head fell fell backwards into the pillows as she slid one of her fingers inside of you, making you moan her name softly. Emily bit your nipple before she moved onto your next one, while she slid another finger inside of you. Her hand hit your clit, making you moan louder. Emily loved the sound that left your mouth, and she pushed her fingers deeper into you, hitting your g-spot.
You felt your orgasm approaching, feeling the familiar knot form in your stomach. "Oh, fuck.. I'm going to cum." The words came out in a stutter, as you had barely any thoughts. There was no response from the older women, she just fucked you deeper and faster. Moans and curse words left your mouth, you were so fucking close. Your back arched as you were on the edge of your orgasm, her hand brushing against your clit, her mouth sucking on your nipples, and her fingers so deep inside of you. You were about to cum, but Emily immediately stopped. She removed her fingers from inside of you, and she stopped sucking on your breasts as she looked up at you.
Your professor had her fingers in her mouth. She looked so fucking hot, but you were pissed. You needed that orgasm, and she just stopped.
She sucked her fingers clean, waiting for you to catch your breath. "That should teach you to behave, hm? Maybe next time I'll let you cum. As for now, we have class in ten." Her lips formed a smirk, as she leaned down, placing a kiss on your lips. You were mad at her, but her lips were so fucking soft.
As she pulled back, she bit your lip. "There's no time to go back to your dorm, so take a quick shower and meet me in class. Wear my clothes, because if you show up to class like that I'll have to punish you again."
You nodded, and she smiled. She placed a soft kiss on your forehead, and she got up. "After class, I'll be able to take care of you properly. I'll make it up to you, okay?" Her tone was soft, and it made you want her even more.
It was safe to say that wasn't a one time thing. Both of you enjoyed that too much. Maybe it was because it was wrong, but even then it felt right.
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callumsgirl · 1 month
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Beautiful Things...that I've got
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pairing: Austin Butler x female reader (Elizabeth)
summary: Elizabeth is young and beautiful when she starts a bartender job at the Rough Wheel. A dimly lit bar known for its jukeboxes, pool tables and the Outlaw MC drinking and hanging around.
Elizabeth had been working at the bar for two months and had had a crush on Austin ever since she first saw him playing pool and he called her a Babydoll in a raspy, warm voice, and handed her his credit card. It only got worse from that moment on, because to say Elizabeth was inexperienced with men was an understatement. She was 21, unkissed and a virgin, and Outlaw's number two had it in for her.
warnings: mostly flirting, age gab (21 y.o. and 33 y.o.), light and heavy smut, kissing, sexual unexperienced woman, virgin woman, first sexual experiences, some hard wording, use of pet names, fist fight, blood and smut, tears and mental pain
word count: 15,7 k
A/N: English is my second language. Please have mercy with me!
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POV Elizabeth // Chicago, USA
Today is my two month anniversary, and all of my classes at the college are going pretty well for me. My grades are impeccable, I'm almost done writing my senior thesis, and I've made $60 in tips in my last two shifts.
Also, my mother had finally stopped trying to fix me up with a smart young man from her church. She tries to do that all the time and it's annoying. Mom always wants to get me a good match. She's hopelessly romantic. I let out a silent sigh. After combing my hair, I put it up in a plait. A young woman with moss-green eyes and freckles on her cheeks looks at me in the mirror. Hoping to look halfway decent next to the other female waitresses and earn a few dollars in tips, I dab a little lip gloss on my lips.
I'm wearing my favourite dress. It's red, cute and not too short for working behind the bar. I made the mistake of wearing a skirt that was too short once in my first week at the bar…and it was awkward and disgusting when Jimmy - that weird old guy who always sits at the bar - saw my half-naked bum.
Since then I've only worn jeans, skirts or dresses that cover my thighs. I'm also the only one of the waitresses who doesn't wear red lipstick. Callie, a bartender friend of mine, thinks I'm a prude and pretty stupid to miss out on all the tips just because I don't want to wear red lipstick.
To be honest, I need every cent, but I'm not going to earn it by wearing red lipstick, batting my eyes and sitting on some guy's lap. I close my eyes for a moment and take a deep breath.
I take one last look in the mirror before I leave the student hall of residence and get on my bike to cycle to the bar. My shift starts at 6pm and it takes me about 20 minutes on my bike.
When I arrive at the bar, it's still quiet and empty. I put my bag in my locker, tie an apron around my waist and start taking stock of the alcoholic drinks and snacks.
Just as I'm ticking off the last few lines of the list, Callie comes into the bar and smiles at me. She is tall, athletic and has flawless skin. Her full lips are all glossy and dark red. Callie looks beautiful and sexy without much effort. Life can be really cruel. I curl my lips a little enviously.
"Hey sweet girl. You look pretty. Did you put the dress on for Austin?" she teases me and winks as her hands clasp the hem of my red dress and she strokes it. She really winks at me!
I shake my head gently and feel my cheeks flush.
Damn it. Calm down Elizabeth, I think and give her a shy smile. Just one comment about Austin and my heartbeat goes out of control and I look like a tomato.
Sometimes I think she has an idea of how sheltered I grew up. That my parents kept me a million miles away from all the boys, that all I had to worry about was making sure I got good grades. But then she winks at me and makes these… comments about red lips and that I work in a bar full of hot bikers.
This bar is definitely a place my parents would never have let me go. Plus, this bar is far from my parents' idea of where I should work and who I should hang out with. But I haven't told them about my job yet.
The hourly wage is okay. The tips don't make me rich, but it helps me get through the month and I'm certainly not going to call my parents and ask for a dime.
I bite the inside of my cheek and lower my eyes, embarrassed. "Don't be silly, Callie," I laugh nervously. "I'm wearing this dress because I like it. Austin wouldn't even look at me if I - I gesture in her direction with my pen in hand, pursing my lips at her revealing outfit. "…if I wore something like you. It just doesn't suit me." I can feel my cheeks getting even hotter and quickly brush a loose strand of hair that has come loose from my plait behind my ear.
"You're joking, aren't you?" she asks, raising an eyebrow curiously. Her make-up is striking and dark. Her green eyes look so hypnotizing and intense with the black eyeliner and her red lips distract me.
I shake my head again and turn to more important tasks. Namely, finally getting through this list before the bar fills up.
"No," I reply and shrug my shoulders. "It's obvious that I don't fit in here and I'm sure no one here is interested in me. Look at me." I can't help but smile. It's obvious that I grew up differently and don't belong here. I stand out with my freckles, my clothes and the fact that I hardly wear any make-up. I often feel out of place. That's often the case. I press my lips together.
Callie smirks and brushes another strand of hair out of my face. "You're really sweet, Lizzie, and naïve," she says, pinching my cheek.
I gasp indignantly and frown. "What?" I ask in shock and blink at her. She can't be serious, can she?
"You're clever, and pretty, and cute. You're a lot more dangerous to the boys here than you think. Plus a lot of the men calling you by pet names. It's a good sign and more money for you, sweet girl." Then Callie turns her back to me and starts polishing beer glasses.
What nonsense, I think to myself and stare at her for a few more seconds until I get back to work.
Two hours later, the bar is overcrowded and I'm mixing various drinks in piecework time. I cut fresh lemon slices and decorate cocktail glasses. Then I pour beer and polish glasses again.
The air is warm, stale and when the front door opens again, a cool breeze blows over my heated, slightly sweaty skin. Only now do I realize how out of breath I actually am and how hungry I am. As if on cue, my stomach grumbles and I sigh in bittersweet despair. My break isn't for another two hours and judging by the rush at the bar, I'll be making a lot more cocktails before then. I let out another sigh and chew on my lower lip. The thought of my turkey sandwiches in my rucksack makes my stomach growl and I feel sick.
I roll my eyes. Pull yourself together, Elizabeth.
Then I work through the customers' drinks requests. I mix cocktails and pour beer. I fill the ice and lemons, rinse the glasses and polish them afterwards. Another blonde comes to the bar and waves for a waitress. Just as I'm about to approach her, Callie comes towards me and sends me on my break. Thank God!
I devour my sandwich and an apple during my short break between the current swing and the next. Then I stand behind the bar again and push full glasses across the counter. I'm slicing up more lemons and limes when someone throws a penny into the jukebox and selects a song. This Live by Curtis Stigers.
It's loud in here and it's hard to hear the music, but when the first sounds come through to me, I know immediately that he is here. Only one person in the bar would dare to play just this one song. I exhale loudly and my fingers tremble as I place the lemon and lime slices in a bowl.
My eyes sting slightly and I squint. While everything around me is black and yet so loud, I try to calm my frayed nerves. My heartbeat speeds up and a shiver runs down my spine. I bite my lower lip and whirl around to the counter as a woman's voice calls for the waitress again.
I see him out of the corner of my eye as I'm mixing two Bloody Marys. "Have a nice evening," I murmur in a loud voice and push the glasses over to the blonde woman waiting impatiently for her drinks.
As soon as she's gone, I wipe my hands on my apron and take two or three steps to the left. From here I can see the pool table, and I swallow hard when I recognize Austin among the bikers. It's not unusual for the MC to come here, but it's nerve-wracking for me. It's the closest I've ever been to a bunch of law-breakers on roaring motorcycles.
Young - and attractive, very attractive. He is tall, wears washed-out blue jeans and a black sleeveless top, with his biker jacket over it and has dark blond unruly hair and crazy blue eyes with which he surveys the entire bar.
I take another step closer to the end of the counter and scrutinize him. Describing Austin as handsome doesn't even begin to do him justice. I bite my lip and continue to stare. I don't normally do this, but I can't help myself…he's just so good looking.
"Oh, my God," I moan softly and lean over the bar a little, standing on my tiptoes as Austin takes the pool stick from a younger guy. A prospect I guess. They're all wearing biker jackets and I can feel my pulse fluttering under my skin.
The jackets of the older members are decorated with various patches and the prospects wear completely naked jackets. I don't really know much about life in an MC, but I've overheard conversations from the girls at the bar and know that the prospects have to earn their patches. With character and courage, sometimes with strangely dangerous tasks and other times they have to take a beating. I think it's exaggerated and dangerous, but nobody asks me.
"Damn, kiss me, fuck me," I sigh and watch as he leans his upper body over the pool table, focuses on the balls in front of him and then shoots. An electric wave rushes through my entire body and I press my lips together helplessly.
"Yeah, you'd like that," Callie suddenly mumbles behind me, scaring the hell out of me. I don't even know that I said it out loud.
But Austin isn't paying any attention to me and is smoking his cigarettes and playing pool with his boys. I press my lips and eyes together in shame and turn to face to Callie. "I didn't…"
"Shut up, sweet girl," she puts a finger to my lips and leans closer to me, her lips almost touching my cheek as she murmurs in my ear: "I'd fuck him too. He's really hot."
The two of us watch Austin as he leans on the edge of the pool table with both arms. The subdued light makes shadows dance across the deep ridges of his muscles. His muscles are firm and pronounced and as he slowly raises his head, mumbles something to himself and shoos one of the contenders away, our eyes meet. I need a moment to find my voice again. If this man had any semblance of a middle-class and less dangerous life, I would probably throw myself at him. But he lives for the MC and that… is not for me.
I have been crushing on him since the first night he handed me his credit card, called me with a raspy voice Babgirl for once, and asked me to start a tab for him. That was the starting point and it only got worse from there.
I gasp out loud - once again I feel caught out tonight and as the corners of his mouth lift slowly and sensually, his lips curl into a knowing, dirty smile, my stomach tightens. I stumble back half a step and bump my back against Callie's torso.
"Sorry," I mumble breathlessly and turn around in a flash. I disappear into the break room and sit there for five minutes until my heart rate calms down.
Pull yourself together, my sense of honor whispers to me and pulls my shoulders back. It raises its little chin to the sky and then gives me an encouraging nod. Get out there and keep serving drinks, Elizabeth.
I have regained some control of myself as I step behind the bar. It takes all my mental strength not to turn my head and look back at the pool table, but I persevere. Over the next half hour, I continue to serve drinks and the memories of Austin are pushed back into my mind. However, the biting feeling of shame in my chest continues to remind me that I've made an idiot of myself.
That's just the way you are, the cynical little voice in my head etches, jabbing me in the ribs. Prudish, untouched and not wanted.
Austin is in a different league to me. I scrape together the last shreds of self-respect and lock all my thoughts of him away in a little box in the back of my head.
I am overcome with nausea and only by taking deep breaths do I manage to shake off the feeling. I turn to polishing more glasses when I suddenly feel a dark, slightly cheerful and vibrant presence behind me. My back muscles tense up and I lift my chin slightly. My senses are on alert.
I hope it's not Jimmy again, I think wistfully and curl my lips into an unpleasant grimace. Just as I've mentally resigned myself to having to deal with Jimmy today, I hear a pleasantly hoarse voice murmur: "Hey Babydoll, are you free?"
I stifle an annoyed groan and grit my teeth. Then I breathe in and out quietly before I start draining another glass of beer. Austin called me Babydoll, again and a tiny part of me likes it. Very much so. Apart from the life he leads, which I absolutely don't want for myself, he's insanely handsome. I mean, what's the big deal if I look at him from time to time. As far as I know, no one has ever died from being adored from afar. My self-esteem grinds its teeth alarmingly and crosses its arms in front of its chest. I shake my head slightly, worried about the direction my thoughts are taking, and grab another glass to polish. "I'm busy. Please leave me alone."
"Doesn't look particularly busy," Austin replies. "If you're already behind the bar-"
The day had started so well and now - after my embarrassing reaction to what? A brief eye contact and I'm done. I interrupt him, annoyed and angry at the lapse in my self-control. In one fluid motion, I turn to him and the words flow uninhibited from my lips: "Then what, asshole?"
Shit! I'm fucked, I think the moment I recognize my words. I open my eyes. My subconscious lifts its little head in shock and stares back and forth between me and Austin. It's completely beside itself and hisses angrily: Are you crazy? I stumble a step back and my butt bang against the back of the bar. My hands are shaking and I barely manage to put the glass of beer down on the counter.
A few seconds pass and everything around me suddenly happens in slow motion. The music is muffled and only reaches me to a limited extent, the shouts of the waiting guests are far away and the laughter over at the pool table barely touches me.
"Asshole, hmm? I wouldn't have trusted you to have such a dirty mouth, babygirl." Austin's ice-blue eyes scrutinize me attentively. The intensity of his gaze and demeanor gives me the creeps.
"Don't call me, babygirl", I grumble angrily. Then I hesitate and lower my gaze. I stare at my sneakers and then raise my head again, heart pounding. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have insulted you."
"Ohh, you can call me whatever you want. I've been called far worse," he laughs lightly and licks his lips.
Oh, I can immediately think of some suitable names; arrogant idiot, fool, arrogant ass…I follow the movements of his body and watch as he rests his elbows on the counter, his muscles bulging, and then murmurs dangerously darkly, "Why not? Do you have a boyfriend I should know about?"
"What?" I squeak and blink like crazy. "Do I what?", I add. My gaze is still glued to his lips. Wow, what pink, full lips. I wonder how they would feel on mine....hmm. Stop! I squint my eyes. No, I think angrily. He's a tease and he's making fun of me.
"Do you have a boyfriend, little girl?" he asks again, continuing to look me in the eye intensely as he leans a little further over the counter and reaches for a bottle of brandy.
"Hey," I grumble. "Put it back down," I demand of him and there's that amused glint in his eyes again. To my surprise, or perhaps more likely his own, he puts the bottle back down and raises his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. At least make me a drink."
I snort and step hesitantly on the spot. None of my colleagues seem to have noticed what's going on between him and me.
Then it suddenly occurs to me that he could get me fired quicker than I'd like. A nasty look from him and Tom, the owner will sack me. I lower my eyes to my feet once more and then tighten my shoulders. I take two steps to the front bar and pick up the bottle of brandy.
"With cola? With ice?," I ask and take a heavy crystal glass from one of the lower cupboards.
"No, just ice," he shakes his head and as I pour the brandy into the glass, he doesn't take his eyes off me. As I break some ice in the cooler, I don't notice how he slowly raises his left arm and shortly afterwards I feel his rough, warm knuckles on my cheek. When his knuckles touch my skin, I feel like sparks are flying. Embarrassed, I pull my head back. Must have been static energy. I blink, about as fast as my heart is beating. I lift my head slightly and look at him with a slightly trembling lower lip.
"What are you doing?", I whisper. "Please stop." I turn my head slightly to avoid his touch, even though it burns me and feels good.
Again, he doesn't answer my question. Instead, he repeats his, "Do you have a boyfriend?"
Why does he want to know? He's certainly not checking out his chances with me. I inwardly roll my eyes at this unnecessary comment and the clear side-swipe from my subconscious.
I sigh half annoyed at his arrogance, half shocked that he's touching me. "No, I don't have a boyfriend. Please let go of me."
"That's a real shame," he murmurs, his husky voice doing strangely heated things to me. I'm blinking too fast, breathing too loudly and my hands are shaking badly as I put the full brandy glass on the counter and push it over to him. "You have really nice lips. Not as made up as the other girls here."
I turn deep red. Once again, and when he recognizes the heated glow on my cheeks, he finally leans back slowly. But before his knuckles leave my cheek, his thumb brushes over my bottom lip, tracing its outline. My breath catches and I can't move. Austin raises the glass to his lips and takes a small sip. "That really is a waste, babygirl," he replies, and I swallow hard.
As soon as the meaning of his words get through to me, I tear myself away from him. With unsteady legs, I stumble back and slap his hand away. "Stop it. I'm not one of your whores!"
I feel hurt and humiliated. Really offended by his words.
His eyes flash in astonishment. His slapped hand hovers in the air for a few moments and then he lowers it. He still looks unimpressed and completely calm. But the expression in his blue eyes has changed. In addition to the glitter, shadows now dance in his eyes and it's really creepy.
I really did beat him. Fuck!
Well, not really, but it was wrong. Now he has every reason to have me thrown out.
He strokes his own lip with the thumb that was just touching mine. The way he strokes his lips is hypnotizing and dangerous at the same time. "Hmmm… you're not really," he murmurs, fixing me very slowly. "If you were one, my hands would be around your pretty, slender neck right now."
He can't possibly be serious. My pulse quickens. Why is he upsetting me like this? Is it because of his outrageously good looks? Is it his penetrating gaze? Or is it because he keeps tracing his lower lip with his thumb and glaring at me menacingly? Can't he finally stop doing that?
I catch my breath and unconsciously lift my own hands to my neck. He grins wickedly. "Exactly… I would squeeze and squeeze until your eyes glaze over and your beautiful lips open slightly. I would make you beg and punish you", he confirms without any humor in his voice and stares at me.
"You're physotic," I reply in a low voice. I hardly trust my own voice anymore. The words slip out before I can stop them.
He gently shakes his head again, amused by my choice of words. Then everything happens very quickly. Austin leans over the bar again and grabs my wrist, pulling me towards him with a jerk. The tips of my feet touch the baseboard of the bar and I gasp in his face, startled and frightened.
I blink around, looking for help, but still no one is looking after me. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Callie at the other end of the bar and I want to call out to her, but one look into Austin's eyes and I fall silent. He raises his free hand and brushes a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. My whole body trembles with tension and sheer fear.
"No, I'm not," he contradicts me. "I just grew up differently to you, babygirl," he explains, lowering his eyelids briefly. His voice is surprisingly soft. Austin stares at the neckline of my dress from above and can see my breasts rising and falling quickly. Then his eyes fall on my necklace. He licks his lips and takes the small cross between his fingers.
I expect him to say some stupid line about God and Jesus, but none of it comes out of his lips. Instead, he leans down so that his cheek brushes my chin and I raise my hands, clasping his wrist as he strokes my lips. "Just as innocent and pure as I suspected."
"You don't know anything about me", I stutter and in the next moment, I close my eyes and press my lips together. God, how can anyone be as stupid as me?
Austin is grinning and he is so close to me that I can breathe in his scent. He smells intoxicatingly of aftershave, soap and engine oil. I greedily soak up the smell.
"Oh no?" he asks, amused. "Then listen carefully Elizabeth. You're young, so damn pretty and innocent. I could have you broken and floating in five fucking minutes. Don't tell me you're a bad girl who kisses random strange men and spreads her legs," he stops and I jerk my eyes open. Austin leans back enough to look me in the eye again. "You're pure, you're perfect, and yet you're in this fucked up place…with me."
"Please let go off me", I beg.
Austin tilts his head slightly and looks at me. "You've got my attention now and I'm not done with you yet."
His words are both a threat and a promise. What does it all mean?
There are so many confusing thoughts chasing around in my head. I can't bring order to the chaos and when Austin brushes my lips again, muscles I didn't know I had tighten deep inside. "Do you know what the problem is with beautiful things in life, Elizabeth?"
I shake my head, barely noticing. Somehow I fear something bad and I try to pull away from him. The corners of his mouth twitch again. Sick bastard! He's having way too much fun with this whole thing. Intimidating young women like me and making fools of them is probably one of his habits. Austin smiles, fascinated, and loosens his grip on my wrist. A brief illusion of control and freedom that I try to take advantage of. I tug and tug, but he tightens his grip again.
"Shh, shh," he whispers. "You don't have to panic, babygirl. Just answer my question."
"I don't know, what's with the beautiful things, Austin?" I sound much whinier than I would like and shrug my shoulders cluelessly. I just want to get out of this bar and crawl into my little bed in the dorm.
"They are only beautiful until they are broken. What will break you?"
He loosens his grip and slowly lets go of me. I immediately increase the distance to him and wipe my palms over my cheeks. There are a few tears and I quickly wipe them away. Then I rub my wrist gently and look at him, scared and angry.
There is a satisfied, ashamed grin on his lips as he stands up and pushes the brandy glass over the counter. He toasts me and strolls back to the pool table.
I wrap my arms around my torso and try miserably to calm my nerves and my raging heartbeat. I just want to get out of here and wash the entire day off my skin. But when I look over at the wall clock, it's only 11 p.m.
I keep glancing nervously over my shoulder and catch Austin staring in my direction. Maybe this is another one of his strange habits, I think distractedly and purse my lips.
Then a rarely romantic thought rises up in the depths of my mind and I wonder if there is any hope left that there is still some light shimmering in Austin. I'm naïve, but not naïve enough to think I can change him. I realized early on that I'm not the girl that guys quit their jobs or move across the country for. A guy certainly wouldn't give up his lifestyle and values for me. Not when it involves motorcycling and a god damn MC.
It's after midnight when Callie goes into the break and the bar is half empty. I start refilling a few shots, washing glasses and wiping down the bar. When I've done everything behind the bar, I grab a fresh cloth and start wiping down the empty tables in the entrance area. I replace the burnt-out candles with new ones and refill the serving dispenser and cutlery.
It takes me about ten minutes to finish the first tables and say goodbye to the other regulars. Austin and his biker friends are still there. While some continue to play pool or darts, Austin sits on a chair. He sits upside down on it and leans his arms over the backrest, holding a half-empty glass in one hand. A cigarette burns between his lips and I quickly look away from him when I realize how much I'm staring at him. Just after… everything.
"This is so stupid," I mutter to myself after turning my back on him. "Get over him , Elizabeth!" I wipe down the next tables. Some have stains, others are sticky. I scrub like crazy. I'm finally done, my hands a little rough and dry from the detergent. Just as I'm about to disappear behind the counter, I bump into a guy.
I squeak, startled, and stammer: "Sorry, I didn't see you."
"No problem," a pleasantly warm voice replies, and I feel two large hands on my upper arms, gently pushing me back a few steps. "Didn't see you, sweetheart."
I think his name is Benny. He's so young and a prospect in the MC. He does the dirty work and has to be pushed around by the older members.
But for what?, I ask myself.
I take a closer look at him and notice that he has a nice smile, even though he's completely drunk. His brown, wispy hair sticks out in all directions. His dark eyes are narrowed.
"It's okay," I smile. "Maybe you should go home. You've had a lot to drink," I suggest in a cautious voice.
He looks at me silently for a breath, maybe two. Then he nods slightly and makes a slightly snivelling face. "I can't leave until the others do. That's what being new is like."
"Ohh," I gasp in surprise. "I didn't know that."
"It's alright", he reply. "You're really pretty by the way", Benny adds.
His thumbs rub lightly over my bare upper arms and I start to shiver. I tilt my head back slightly and giggle. "Really?" I ask. "Am I pretty?"
He frowns in confusion. "Yeah…"
"Benny, come here." A harsh, hoarse voice cuts through the air. I feel Benny's fingers tighten around my upper arms. Inevitably, I hold my breath and take half a step back. Benny drops his arms and when his hands leave my skin, I feel a chill run through me.
"I'm sorry," he begins. But once again his words are interrupted by Austin's hoarse, strained voice. I press my lips together and close my eyes.
"It was nice talking to you, Benny." I say with a small smile and circle around him.
Just before I stand behind the bar again, he murmurs in a q uiet voice, "I'd like to talk to you more often."
The corners of my mouth twitch and for the first time in a few hours, something feels normal, and nice. I nod slightly, "Okay Benny."
From a distance, I hear a chair scraping loudly across the wooden floor, and then Austin appears in the corner of my eye. He comes towards me with determined steps and I open my eyes in shock as he stretches out an arm and jerks Benny around by the shoulder. For a fraction of a moment, Benny is completely surprised, then he tries in vain to push Austin away from him. Austin wraps a hand around Benny's neck and holds him tight. But it is futile. Austin presses him closer to his chest and his lips almost touch the shell of Benny's ear as he whispers hoarsely in his ear. Meanwhile, his icy blue eyes lock on me. An unstoppable storm rages in them and I stumble back.
Benny looks completely tense. He nods mechanically to everything Austin hisses into his ear. Then Austin lets go of Benny's neck. I breathe a sigh of relief. My heart is pounding in my throat as Austin presses Benny's cheek flat against the sticky counter with a deafening slap. Benny groans painfully, but makes no sign of resisting.
"Do you hear me?" Austin hisses angrily. "You will never talk to her or look at her again or I'll break more than your fucking ribs."
"Austin," I scream, terrified. "He didn't do anything."
"Shut up, baby girl. He needs to learn his place." For a split second, I see something like humility and remorse in his eyes. Then it's gone, leaving behind the dark shadows and the raw aggression that runs through his veins.
I stumble back a few more steps until my legs hit the back of the counter. My fingers rebel as I clutch my hands hard around the edge of the counter, turning my head to the side as Austin pushes it down on the counter once more. A whimper escapes me and I immediately slap my hands over my face.
"Now take it like a man, Benny," he demands and lets him go. Austin takes a few steps away from him and takes off his jacket. He hands it to a guy with a long white beard. I think his name is Hank.
The scene in front of me makes no sense to me at all. I want to intervene and object, but I don't understand what this is all about. My lips open, but I close my mouth again. What should I say?
The other bikers have now also stood up and some of them, mainly the older ones, are watching the show with amusement. Then Knickers comes over to the bar and leans sideways on the counter. He gives me a surprisingly sympathetic look. As if he can grasp my confusion, he says, "It's not personal, sweetheart. Those are the rules at the MC and Benny has to respect them."
"But he only spoke to me," I mumble in exasperation. Austin's lips are curled into a promising grin. The tip of his tongue darts out from between his lips and he moistens them. Then he raises his hand and holds up exactly one finger. "You have one free stroke, Benny. Then I'll finish you off."
"What?" I gasp. "Hank?" I chastise in shock and open my eyes. "He's not really hitting him, is he?"
"Relax, little one. It'll be over quickly." He pats my hand like I'm five years old.
"No." I shake my head wildly. "I can't let that happen." I'm halfway to stepping out from behind the bar when Knickers grabs my hand, gently but firmly. "Stay here, little one. Austin can be a moody son of a bitch, but he's fair."
Fair?! This is a really bad joke. I audibly expel the air from my lungs and watch as Austin encourages Benny with a wave of his hand. "Go on!" he shouts.
Benny raises his fists and in the next moment he dashes forward with a big stride. He swings his right fist and misses Austin's chin by a hair's breadth. I squeal and squeeze Hank's hand.
Then they circle each other like predators and it's as if Austin is taunting him and deliberately not landing any hits. A frightening darkness flickers in his blue eyes again and I bite my lower lip. Benny takes advantage of the moment of inattention and delivers a brutal left uppercut to Austin. I squeeze my eyes shut and the next time I open them, Austin is wiping his thumb over his split lip and spitting blood onto the scratched wooden floor of the bar.
"You little fucker!" Austin curses and spits again, this time right at Benny's feet. This is followed by two quick steps and a combination of uppercuts and frontal punches to Benny's ribcage.
A deafening crack followed by pain-filled moans pierces the bar and my ears. Benny sinks to his knees and a breath later Austin pushes him to the floor and starts hitting him with wild combinations of punches. All I can see is spurting blood and hear loud, uncontrolled breathing.
I pull my hand out from under Hank's and flee to the back of the bar. As soon as I reach the back office, I push through the crack in the door and close the door behind me. Salty tears run down my cheeks and I try to contain the adrenaline rushing through my body. I stroke my cheeks, then my hair and walk in circles.
My head is spinning. What the hell just happened? What have I got myself into?
"Fuck," I mumble breathlessly. "Benny…what have I done," I cry. I throw myself onto the brown leather couch and pull my legs close to my chest, crying bitter tears. I am overcome by a wave of guilt. It all happened so fast - one second I was wiping the table and the next Austin was pining over some poor, innocent guy…because of me. I am the reason for this outburst of brutal, bloody violence. My chest rises and falls heavily and I gasp desperately for air. Tears blur my vision and I sniffle, and sniffle. It's no use and within a few minutes my nose is completely blocked and my cheeks are burning from the salty tears. I wipe my face roughly with my hands.
I'm so lost in my thoughts and tears that I don't even notice the heavy footsteps approaching me. It's only when the office door opens and Austin steps into the room that I raise my head, startled. My legs tremble and my fingers feel numb and cold as I struggle to my feet. Defiantly, I jut my chin up and sniffle: "I didn't invite you in."
"You didn't have to, babygirl," he replies harshly.
Damn it, go away, I plead silently and when he doesn't move, I scrutinize him from head to toe. My gaze first falls on his clenched fists. His knuckles are swollen, partially burst open and full of blood. I feel sick in an instant. I quickly turn my eyes away from his hands and look him in the face. His ice-blue eyes gleam wildly and impenetrably in my direction and I bite my lower lip. His lower lip has split open and blood is slowly drying on his chin. I swallow hard and turn away from him. "I don't want to see you. Please go away!"
Again, there is no answer. I don't hear the door either and the next moment I feel two warm, large hands resting on my upper arms and turning me around. His arrogance pisses me off and I want to scream at him, but at the same time I'm terrified of him. Austin has just beaten up a man…over an innocent conversation.
"That's not true," he insists in a gentle voice. "Why are you crying?" he whispers. He hugs me to him with one arm while he lets the fingers of his other hand glide tenderly over my cheek. I avert my gaze and close my eyes. His fingertips trace the contours of my face and when his thumb strokes my lower lip, his breath catches and I open my eyes. Austin looks me in the eye, and I return his smoldering, bewildered gaze before his shapely mouth catches my attention. Despite the swelling already setting in and the dried blood, his lips are still pink and full. For the first time in my twenty-one years of life, I want to be kissed. Even if all the circumstances speak against it.
Damn it, kiss me!, I beg him silently.
"You hit him," I whisper in a trembling voice. I'm paralyzed, completely captivated by him. I stare at his mouth, spellbound, and Austin looks down at me with a darkly veiled gaze. He cups his palm around my cheek and chin. His touch forces me to lean towards him.
"He was looking at you," he explains and I stare at him, confused.
What? "Just like every other guest tonight. Do you even hear what you're saying?" I ask, frowning. I raise my arms and press my palms to his chest, which turns out to be a clear mistake. He doesn't move an inch and feeling his warm, firm muscles and heartbeat under my fingers feels so wrong and yet so outrageously good.
"Even if I explained it to you, you wouldn't understand," he sighs and strokes my cheek again. This time his cracked knuckles touch my skin and I flinch. Austin shows no pain, though. "The rules in MC are very specific. He had to understand that there are rules, and you're one of them, babygirl." He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and shakes his head almost imperceptibly, as if to answer my unspoken question. When he opens his eyes again, the expression in his blue eyes is distant and there is a steely determination in them.
"Elizabeth, I'm exactly what you don't want out of life," he whispers.
Excuse me? How does he know that? Where did this sudden change of direction come from? Surely that's my decision alone, even if he's absolutely right and my reason applauds his words. My thoughts swirl out of disappointment at his confusing rejection. "You don't want me! I'm fucked up," he announces, swallowing hard. "I'd only break you," he adds hoarsely, gently pushing me away from him.
No!, my subconscious screams as he detaches himself from me and half turns away. Suddenly I feel very lonely and exposed. He watches my reaction carefully and a thought flashes through my mind: I wanted to be kissed, I made it damn obvious, and he didn't do it. He doesn't desire me.
I feel like a naive fool.
"You can't just say something like that and then walk away!" I mutter indignantly. The disappointment at his rejection and the cryptic meaning of his words make me angry. I grab his wrist and force him to look at me. "What do you mean I'm part of these MC rules?"
Austin looks at me silently for a while. Then he nods slowly and licks his lips. "Okay babygirl," he murmurs softly.
How can just a few words sound so enticing? I let go of his wrist and sit down on the brown couch. I look at him expectantly and watch as he somehow searches for the right words. Wow! I didn't think it was possible that someone like him - dark and dangerous - could be speechless; reaching for the right words.
"Some of us enjoy certain…privileges because of our rank in the club. We eat first, drink first, pick women," he pauses and rubs his knuckles together. "I picked you, and that includes the other guys keeping their distance from you."
"You did what? Picked me out, reserved me?" I shout at him angrily and stand up. I don't normally tend to use loud words and I immediately lower my voice again. Shouting has never helped anyone.
I straighten my shoulders and stare at Austin. My pulse starts to race. Something tightens in my stomach and the next moment I push past him wordlessly to leave the room. I can't believe it - I feel objectified, like an thing that can be reserved. My eyes start to sting again and I bite the inside of my cheek. This evening is a nightmare. I just want it to be over and I can leave. I'm sure if I find Callie and tell her I'm not feeling well, she'll let me go.
Just as I grasp the doorknob, an arm wraps around my waist from behind and spins me around. I collide with Austin's chest and gasp in shock. His fingertips tighten their grip around my waist and squeeze the fabric of my dress. He grabs my chin with his other hand and forces me to look him in the eye. My lower lip trembles and my choppy breath collides with his as I open my lips slightly. Austin stares at me, dark and promising. Is he going to kiss me after all?, I wonder, and in the next moment I receive a powerful jab between the ribs. My inner voice warns me and shrieks wildly. Fight him off, growls my subconscious. I silence it.
"Yes and no…I was protecting you with it, Elizabeth! Don't you understand that at all?" he asks, his jaw grinding.
How is he trying to protect me? He reserves me and puts his brand on me, and then?
"Protecting me? You're kinding right, Austin." I roll my eyes and press my hands against his chest. I desperately try to break away from him, but he won't let me escape. I turn my head jerkily and tear myself away from an engaging touch.
I hit his damn hard chest again. Son of a bitch!
He doesn't budge an inch and I realize how my nerves are slipping away from me repeatedly that evening. My blows become more uncoordinated, sluggish and weaker until my palms are just resting on his chest.
He lifts my chin again and I reluctantly give in. "Would you rather I kept my mouth shut and let some random guy throw dirty comments at you, grab your ass or pull you out of their laps, huh?"
I shake my head dejectedly and pause for a moment. I take a moment to memorize the sight of him. I have him to thank for the fact that I have mostly been left alone for the last two months, neither adjusted nor pulled onto any laps…after all the silence and my silent, bittersweet pining, he is still looking at me. Why me? I don't understand.
We remain silent. All thoughts are blown away and what remains is darkness and emptiness in my head. I risk a furtive glance up at him and at his lips. When Austin notices, his lips twitch.
He tightens the grip of his arm around my waist a little more and presses my upper body against his. My hands are now trapped between our bodies and suddenly the atmosphere in the room changes. Maybe it's because we're in such close quarters, or maybe it's because the hint of blood mingles with his unmistakable scent and numbs my senses. Tense, heated anticipation is in the air. My breathing and pulse quicken and he lowers his head a little. His eyes shimmer like liquid ice water and I bite my lip.
"Oh, shit!" he curses. "Maybe I'll regret this later, but I want to break you so badly, Elizabeth." He wraps one hand around the back of my neck and before I know it, his hips are pressing against mine. My God! I can't move my hands and desperately stand on my toes as one of his lips touches mine and he kisses me. His lips soften beyond measure and I moan into his mouth as I taste the blood. His tongue explores my mouth and then my own glides over his. I slowly feel my way forward and then our tongues begin an erotic dance. He spins me around and pushes me backwards a few steps until my ass touches the edge of the desk. I can feel his erection against my stomach. Wow… it's explosive.
We are both breathing heavily when the kiss ends. "You're amazing and beautiful," he gasps.
Beautiful. The compliment brings a blush to my cheeks. Austin thinks I'm beautiful. I risk a glance into his glowing eyes.
"Have you ever been kissed by anyone?"
"No," I whisper back. I do my best not to sink into the floor with embarrassment. Well…maybe Bobby tried to kiss me once in high school…never mind. It was childish and not worth mentioning.
"How is it that no guy has knocked you out yet? I don't get it. Men must be crazy about you." Suddenly my mouth is numb. Austin runs his fingers down the back of my neck and twists my braid around his wrist, forcing me to look him in the eye. I suck in the electrifying air around us. He gives me a wolfish grin, and I promptly feel that strange tugging in my abdomen again.
"You really are pure, so perfect." His thumb glides over my lower lip. His words act like an accelerant on me; my blood boils. He leans down to me, kisses me passionately and sucks on my lower lip. I moan and he smiles against my lips. "How old are you, Elizabeth?" he then asks in a low, raspy voice and I frown at his curiosity.
Why does he suddenly want to know? I swallow and open my mouth. "I'm twenty-one, almost twenty-two."
Something dark flashes in his eyes that I can't place. "How old are you?" I ask before I can stop myself.
A shadow flickers across his eyes and he continues to trace my bottom lip. "Thirty-three."
Oh man! There are several years between us. I slowly pull my hands back and intertwine my fingers.
"I really should leave you alone. You're far too young for me. Far too beautiful and I shouldn't want to break you."
It's that little compliment again. It's the second time he's said that he thinks I'm beautiful. I try to hide my stupid grin. Do you hear me now? He wants to break you?. my inner voice is shouting at me. My subconscious raises its head weakly. At least it's still alive. It's been suspiciously quiet for the last few minutes. Where was it when I needed it?
"What happens if you stay?" I whisper and his breath catches. "What happens then?", I add.
He grins darkly. "I don't know if you're naïve or just inexperienced, but you're remarkably brave," he says, his voice hoarse.
His words encourage me. They set me completely on fire and I press myself closer to his body. My hand trembles as I lift it and slide it along his neck. Austin freezes at the touch and blinks about as fast as my heart beats. My eyes fall on his lips again and I blush. He kissed me with those lips…wow.
I take the next step and run my fingers from his neck to his cheek to his chin. The blond stubble feels surprisingly soft and I look at his slightly swollen lips. The blood has dried and a crust is slowly forming. My fingertips hover in the air and I hold my breath with a pounding heart as I touch his lips. "Does it hurt?"
I don't know who this hurts more. Him or me. Austin stands perfectly still, not making a move. Only his fingers twitch around my waist and send pleasant shivers down my spine. "Not really. I've had far worse injuries after a fight," he explains with a sphinx smile. He opens his mouth slightly and licks my fingertips with his tongue. I gasp and then it takes my breath away. Why is that so sexy?
"Would you feel better if you tended to my wounds?" he whispers, hitting the mark with his words. I would really feel better if I knew that nothing was wrong with him. Not really I mean…my inner goddess sleepily lifts her head as she realizes we're about to touch Austin again. Suddenly she is wide awake and full of energy.
I nod gently and he releases me with a confident grin. My breathing is shallow; I can't take my eyes off him. He grabs a first aid kit from the filing cabinet next to the couch and places it on the desk next to me.
"Ready?", he asks.
"Hmmm," I hum and he puts his hands on my hips. He lifts me up in a flash and sits me on the tabletop. I squeak and open my eyes. Now I'm almost at eye level with him and he smiles in amusement at my reaction.
I turn my gaze away from him and take the first aid kit in my hands. I open the zipper and examine the contents. There are plasters, bandages, cleaning cloths, gloves and… condoms. My cheeks flash deep red. It's not really much, but it will be enough. I press my lips together in concentration and think hard about what to start with. I've never treated anyone after a fight before.
"Clean first, then treat", he helps me out.
Then I expel the unconsciously held air from my lungs and grab a bottle of disinfectant. I pour some of the blue, alcoholic liquid onto a white cloth and hesitate, muttering, "It'll probably sting."
Austin's eyes twinkle in amusement. "Go on, babygirl. I can take it."
I dab gently over his forehead, his cheeks, and when I reach his lips, his hands suddenly settle on my thighs, clasping with gentle pressure. My movements stutter and he grins smugly. What a bastard!
I squint slightly and press the cloth against his lips harder than necessary, wiping away the dried blood. Austin hisses softly and now I'm the one smiling with satisfaction. Ha!
"I didn't know you could be sadistic," he teases, watching me put the cloth away and reach for some ointment. A wave of heat chases through my body again.
"I'm not," I contradict and demand: "Hold still", I command then.
The corners of his mouth twitch, but he holds still. I put a little ointment on my index finger and stroke his eyebrow, his left cheek and his lips. He breathes in loudly through his nose while I concentrate on my work.
"Just keep telling yourself that," Austin murmurs, and a feeling of hot lust flashes through me. He stands in front of me, looks me in the eye. He's so damn sexy.
I ignore his words and ask instead: "Have you been caught anywhere else?"
"I don't know." He shrugs and then whispers playfully, "But you're welcome to look, Elizabeth."
I gasp for air. He's clearly taking the piss.
"I'm serious, Austin."
His fingers twitch around my thighs again and squeeze lightly. His palms are warm and rough. Every slightest movement of his hands makes all the senses in my body sing on high alert.
"Me too, babygirl." His hands wander up my thighs and reach the hem of my dress. My heart stops beating.
"Do you have any idea how seductive you are, Elizabeth?" He lets his hands wander tenderly over my thighs and pushes the red, fluffy fabric up. I automatically spread my legs for him and he steps closer to me. "Do you have any idea what I'm going to do to you?", he adds as I whimper softly.
The muscles deep inside me contract deliciously. I would love to close my eyes, but the wild expression in his blue eyes hypnotizes me. Unpredictable waves of lust and darkness break in his eyes and I want to drown in them. He releases one hand from my thigh and I immediately miss the feel of his warm fingers there. But then he curves his hand half around my chin, half down my neck and leans in for a short, sweet kiss.
"Once you say yes, there's no going back," he whispers and as I realize he's not only offering me a warning, but also a way out of this messed up, heated situation, my nerves are completely shot. I breathe in and out frantically. I can almost feel the chaotic feelings - or is it the hormones? -that are coursing through my body. The voice of reason calls out to me and holds out its small hand. Ready to take flight with me, but I stare at Austin unblinking. I want him so much, even though all reason rebels inside me. I wrap my hands around his upper arms and feel his firm biceps.
His blond hair is tousled, his black shirt clings tightly to his chest - his blue eyes flash out at you. "Yes, please," I whisper. Honestly, I'm not sure what exactly I want from him. I'm just sure that I don't want him to let go of me and walk away.
"Please what?", he asks teasingly. His gaze is very intense, half in the shadows and half in the dim light of the office.
"Please kiss me, touch me, Austin." ...fuck me. As soon as the words have left my lips, he kisses me again. So wishes can come true after all.
He breaks away from me, his face only centimetres away from mine. "I'm not exactly known for being gentle, babygirl. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. You know that, don't you?" He sounds very serious, almost desperate, and his eyes are glowing. His words surprise me.
Who would have thought that this handsome, tough biker would care about my well-being. "I would never do anything I didn't want to." As soon as I get the words over my lips, I'm not so sure anymore. Right now, I'd probably do anything he asked of me. My answer seems to satisfy him, though.
"Show me!", I demand and the corners of his mouth twitch furiously. His lips meet mine again and the kiss is unlike anything I've ever experienced before. Not that there's much to compare it to.
He strokes the contours of my lips with his tongue and asks for entrance. I open my mouth and our tongues touch. A muffled moan escapes me and he intensifies the kiss. Then his lips leave mine and he breathes feather-light, moist kisses on my jaw and neck. When he starts to suck on a sensitive spot under my ear, I shiver.
"You react very intensely," he whispers huskily. "Your skin is so soft and you smell good," he adds.
Why does he say he can't be affectionate? His words make my arms and legs melt and heat rushes through my veins.
Austin lets go of my chin and grabs my own with his hand, pressing it to his chest. My fingertips twitch and I feel a surge of nervousness race through me. He wants me to touch him, it occurs to me, and I run my palm hesitantly over his bulging pecs. He pulls his head back so far that he can look at me and I breathe heavily. I avoid his gaze and continue to stroke his covered upper body. Despite the fabric, I can feel his warmth and the hardness of his muscles. Both his hands rest on my thighs again and this time he doesn't stop at the hem of my dress. He grips the hem and crumples the fabric in his fists, pulling it up until he catches a glimpse of my white lace panties. Luckily I'm wearing nice underwear!
"Fuck," he growls and licks his lips. "Your skin is flawless. I want to smell and taste you. and get you all dirty, baybgirl."
His uninhibited, rough words totally arouse me. I turn red. His dirty words are in stark contrast to his gentle touch. His fingers glide over the insides of my thighs and he spreads them wider. I'm putty in his hands. He exhales audibly and closes his eyes as he runs the knuckles of his right hand over the soft lace fabric. I gasp for air and my toes curl in my shoes. Oh…how can I feel that touch down there?
"I love delicate lace," he murmurs, pushing the red fabric of my dress further up and stroking the lace pattern of my panties with the fingers of one hand. His next kiss is demanding, his tongue and lips teasing mine. I cling to him and crumple the fabric of his black shirt. He presses his body against mine, pushing my upper body back until I'm lying half on the tabletop. One hand clasps my bare thigh, the other moves down my back to my waist and my bum. As he thrusts his hips forward, I feel his erection.
I let out a muffled moan and swallow his quick breath as he kisses me again. I carefully stroke his neck and hair. It is soft and yet unruly. I tug gently and he moans hoarsely. He runs one hand over my collarbone and pushes me down onto my elbows with the flat of his palm on my chest. The cold wooden board collides with my bare arms and sends shivers down my body.
I expect him to undress me, but he doesn't. He lets go of me, straightens up and sinks to his knees, grips both my thighs and pulls me jerkily towards the edge of the table. He's not going to, or? My inner goddess swings her hips in boundless anticipation, while a little voice in my head whispers doubts. However, I don't have time to get to grips with the chaos in my head. My legs float in the air and then they suddenly rest on his broad shoulders and I close my eyes, fluttering. He kisses the inside of my thighs and gently scratches my hip bone with his teeth. He gently nibbles and kisses his way from my left hip bone to my belly button and sinks his tongue there. I moan again.
Seeing him on his knees in front of me and feeling his mouth on my skin is unexpected and exciting. My whole body is on fire and the excitement comes over me in waves. I try in vain to control my loud breathing. He looks up at me with his blue eyes under his incredibly long eyelashes, kneads my thighs and licks his lips. His nose grazes my skin down there. Before I know it, he leans forward and pushes his nose between my thighs. I can feel him down there. His hot breath collides with my own warmth. Oh God!
"Hmmm…you smell so good," he murmurs, inhaling deeply. I let myself fall back onto the tabletop and chew my lip. Something seems to explode deep inside me.
He blows lightly against my covered centre and I shiver. "Ohh," I whisper and he chuckles. He spreads my legs wider and bends my knees upwards. I'm completely exposed and can't think a sensible thought as Austin drags his knuckles over my centre. Although the touch is light as a feather, I can feel the reverberations all the way to my abdomen. I press a hand to my mouth and gasp for air. Oh boy, that's intense.
When I briefly lift my head, there is a sensual expression in his eyes and he lowers his lips. His lips move over the thin lace of my panties and he growls. The vibration reverberates deep inside me. One of his hands grabs my briefs and pushes them aside, revealing me and then I feel his lips on my bare skin for the first time. I moan, feel the pulsation between my thighs and how wet I am. Please, I beg silently as one of his arms wraps around my stomach and stops me from wriggling around. I clutch his forearm and dig my fingernails into his skin.
"Have you ever touched yourself and brought yourself to orgasm?" he whispers smokily.
I try my best to sound offended. "Yes," I breathe breathlessly - but none of my touching has felt anything like what you do.
"Maybe one day I'll watch you rub that sweet little pearl and moan breathlessly."
In the depths of my foggy mind, the thought arises that I might even like it. To see him in front of me, half naked, and his eyes are only on me. That would be definitly something.
His lips open and with the next breath I feel his tongue. The tip of his tongue slowly and sensually circles my clit. His fingers part my labia and when he briefly lifts his head and blows against my wet centre, my body rears up. But Austin holds my hips in an iron grip and I sigh in sweet agony. He doesn't let up and continues his sensual assault.
"Now let me explore this litte thight hole." He strokes my entrance with one finger and I feel my muscles tense and pulsate down there. He pushes a finger inside me, again and again.
When he stops circling my clitoris and starts sucking lightly instead, my vision blurs and all my muscles tense up. Something knots in my stomach and I chase after a tingling flicker. His finger pumps into me at a steady pace, becoming more urgent as he adds another. A cry of pleasure escapes me as he speeds up.
"Please," I beg and throw my head back. My lips open and my legs tense and tremble.
"Let go, babygirl." His teeth scrape over my clitoris and he slides two fingers inside me. Just before he pulls them out again, he curves his fingertips and grazes a sensitive spot inside me. My eyes go black and I see stars. I cry out and freeze. The madness! I've never experienced anything like it.
My eyelids are heavy as I flutter them open again. He lifts his eyes and looks at me with a satisfied, dark grin. I return his smile shyly and am sure that I have just collided with the sun. I feel like Icarus who flew too close to the sun and got burnt.
I come down from my orgasm with a gasp. His hands glide over my thighs and he slowly rises from his knees. I prop myself up on my elbows and watch as he grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls the fabric over his head. Oh wow…Adonis and David's michelangelo can pack their bags next to him. Austin is outrageously hot. A light film of sweat glistens on his skin and I wander with his eyes over the peaks and valleys of his pronounced muscles. My mouth is watering and I'm suddenly overcome with the desire to taste him on my lips. I straighten up into a sitting position and reach out for him.
Excitement and triumph dance around in his gaze and he breathes heavily. "How was that?" he asks in a raspy voice.
I blink and think about what would be a suitable answer. Exciting, explosive… definitely world-shattering. "Good," I whisper back. He laughs and grabs my face with both hands. Then he kisses me and I taste my own arousal…it's dirty…and exciting…and feels far too good.
"You're killing me. How can you be so innocent?"" With his fingers he gently grips my wrist and directs my movements up his chest and along his ribcage, then down to his stomach and my fingers graze the path of blond hair disappearing under his waistband. I stare at the spot where our hands rest and widen my eyes as I see the bulge in his jeans.
I swallow hard and there's that promising, dangerous grin on his lips again. He lets go of my wrist and unbuttons his jeans, then pulls down the zip. I hold my breath. His palm is pressed against his erection and he closes his fist around his cock. I slide my fingers over his upper stomach muscles and they tense under my touch. It's a heavenly feeling to be so turned on. He pushes his jeans down and kicks his boots off his feet. Then he's standing in front of me in just black, tight-fitting boxer shorts and when his fingers slip under the fabric, I bite my lip. Tense excitement slowly builds up and watching him touch himself blows my mind… insane!
Austin takes half a step closer to me and wraps his other hand around my chin. I crane my head and sigh as he kisses me again. It's wild and hard on the edge of pain as he presses my head back and stretches my neck muscles. This time I feel braver and search for his with my tongue. He moans in surprise at my initiative into my mouth. I slide my hands further down his stomach and touch his forearm. He's still pumping his hard cock and I wrap my fingers around his forearm and wrist.
"Let me…" I stammer awkwardly. His muscles quiver under my fingers. "Show me how…"
He nods and pulls off his boxer shorts. My eyes widen. His cock is big. The tip is red and wet, and he grabs my hand again. "Keep your fingers loose, babygirl," he instructs me and I obey. When I look into his eyes, there's a lewd grin on his lips. I want to punch him in the face, but I'm too nervous and curious about what's going to happen next. He clearly enjoys my stunned expression and lays a quick kiss on my lips. It's smooth, wide and beautiful. I want to touch him, but I don't know how.
Austin leans down to my ear. His lips brush the sensitive skin there and I lick my lips in anticipation. Hm…all right.
He guides my hand towards his penis and whispers. "Close your fingers." I close my fingers into a fist and gasp. His cock is much harder than I expected in my hand, but also soft and warm. "First slow and firm," he whispers, moving my hand up and down, and his eyes shimmer like boundless oceans as he looks at me. He sets the pace for my movements. My mouth is slightly open, I lower my gaze and watch our hands glide up and down, mesmerised. It's fascinating how the wet tip of his cock keeps disappearing and reappearing between my fingers. I wonder what he tastes like?
"That's it, babygirl." He lets go of my hand and cups my face with both hands, then leans his forehead against mine and closes his eyes in pleasure. Seeing him where…aroused and out of control fires me up and I grow bolder. When he thrusts his hips forward slightly, I involuntarily tighten my grip.
A deep groan echoes from his chest. Ha! He likes it and a new, electrifying warmth spreads through my chest. It's a sound I'd like to hear more often. I remember Callie and the other girls talking about blokes and how they like it. So I speed up my movements a little and at the same time carefully slide my thumb over his glans. I watch his reaction carefully.
"Shit", he growls in a deep voice. Austin opens his eyes, and I repeat the slide of my thumb. I also start to twist my fist a little with the up and down movements and get another deep, hoarse moan from Austin. He's both hard and soft, like steel, covered in velvet, and when I switch hands, bringing my wet thumb to my lips, he tastes amazing, good, a little salty. While I'm not so sure about this flavor, one look at ihim and I don't care. Seeing him so aroused and wild is worth it.
Austin groans and thrusts his hips towards me more and more often. I continue with the twisting pumping movements of my hand. I feel powerful! My tiny little inner goddess is delighted with my skill. I can drive him crazy with my hand. Again I let my thumb glide over his tip and his hips jerk. "Fuck, babygirl and you've never done this before?," he growls and when I make a sign to lean forward, he shakes his head breathlessly.
I bite my lip and shake my head. "Never."
Why not? Before I can sulk, he whispers: "If you curve those pretty pink lips around my cock now, I'll come deep down your throat." I feel the muscles in his legs tighten and he breathes heavily as he closes his hand around my wrist, slowing my movements before pulling my fingers away from his cock.
My pulse quickens as he grabs the hem of my dress and pulls it over my head. Now I'm only wearing my white lace bra. "I'd much rather feel your tight little pussy around my cock when I come."
I shudder at his crude words and he flicks my bra open, slips it over my shoulders and as the cool room air brushes my breasts, my nipples harden. His fingers glide over my one breast as he kisses my neck. He rolls his thumb over my nipple and I feel a longing tug between my thighs. His lips leave wet kisses on my neck, my collarbone and when he cups my one nipple, I threaten to burst.
The next second he kisses me again passionately, completely wildly and wraps his arms around my back. He lifts me off the tabletop and stands me on my own feet. I cling to him with wobbly legs. But before I can wrap my arms around his naked torso, he turns me around so that my bare back touches his chest. He grab a condom package. What is he up to?
"You're really pretty, Elizabeth," he whispers and I shudder. His hands wander over my shoulders and down my arms. Then they rest on my hips, exploring the soft skin of my lower back, and when he slides one palm between my shoulder blades and presses me forward onto the ice-cold tabletop, alarm bells start ringing in my head.
He wants to take me from behind. I press my palms on the tabletop and push against him. His palm presses further into my back and I panic.
No!, my little inner goddess screams indignantly. This is not how she and I had imagined my first time. Part of me resigned myself some time ago to the fact that there would be no roses, candles and sweet words, but being taken from behind… hard, that's absolutely non-negotiable for me.
The echo of Austin's words reverberates through my head. I'm not exactly known for being gentle, babygirl.
I realize that if I don't say anything now, he will take me from behind. He's probably used to getting his way and the women he normally fucks have long since resigned themselves to not experiencing romance or expressing their desires. But I'm certainly no whore…I grit my teeth as he traces the contours of my ass with his fingers.
I feel his warm body firmly behind me and as his fingers slide between my thighs, I press my legs together, even though it feels damn good to be touched by him. I lift my head, "No!"
He pauses in his movements. "No, what?" Austin asks roughly.
I take a deep breath and think about what to say. "No," I repeat stupidly. "I don't want it like this. You're not going to take me from behind like one of your whores."
The pressure of his palm on my back finally disappears and I straighten up. When I turn around, there's an indefinable expression in his eyes and I swallow. He looks so lost; like I've slapped him in the face. Oh, Austin.
For a fraction of a moment, I can see through the walls he's built around himself. He frowns in confusion. Austin almost doesn't understand my objections, but then it hits me like a blow. How could he know otherwise? That's the way he lives, and it makes me a little sad.
It's the first time I've seen something like vulnerability flicker in his eyes. Austin seems speechless and overwhelmed. So if I want this to work, I have to do something.
I don't have any sexual experience, but I know what I don't want. That includes a hard fuck from behind. I sigh softly and wrap my arms around his chest. Then I stand on my tiptoes and lift my chin until my lips hover over his.
He finally wakes up from his stupor and presses his lips to mine. The kiss is different - somehow full of emotion and when he puts one arm around my upper back and the other around my bottom, I press myself against him. We are both breathing heavily when the kiss ends and he suddenly lifts me up. I automatically wrap my legs around his hips and he walks over to the couch. He sits down with me on his lap and his hard cock slides right between my labia. I freeze and shudder at the same time.
"Once you say yes, there's no going back," he mumbles and it feels like deja vu.
"Please take me," I whisper and press myself against his naked body. I don't know where the courage comes from, but I lean my cheek against his, lick the shell of his ear and rock my hips against his lap. "You're not going to break me right now, Austin," I add in a soft, gentle voice. Even though there are some doubts in my mind about that, I continue to encourage him. At least not immediately and completely, my little subconscious grumbles.
I dispel the unpleasant thoughts in my head and blow a kiss on his jaw. His hands glide over my back and within a breath he has spun us round and my back is pressed into the seat of the couch. I blink and shiver like a deer in headlights. So it's really happening. Bloody hell! Now I'm getting a little scared. I think of his big cock. How is that supposed to happen? How?
Austin pushes his knees between my thighs and leans over me. His arms are propped up next to my head and I stare up at him from below. My mouth is dry as dust and I whimper softly.
He slides one of his hands round the back of my neck and holds my head in place. As he lowers himself onto his elbow, our naked bodies touch and his hard pecs rub over my sensitive, hard nipples. I gasp and follow his words as he murmurs, surprisingly calmly, "Pull your knees up a little."
I look between our bodies and chew on my lip as the tip of his cock rubs over my clit and then slides along my labia. A pleasant muffled sound suddenly hums in my ears and I don't know whether it's me moaning or him. "Take a deep breath and relax, babygirl. I'll let it pass quickly."
I lift my head and take a shaky breath. I wrap my arms around his ribcage and press my fingers into his warm, firm skin in joyful yet anxious anticipation.
His glans slides further down and as he pushes his hips forwards a little, he finds my entrance. His blue eyes glow intensely and unyielding desire, lust and the devil of darkness dance a tango in them. I close my eyes and take another breath. Then he lowers his forehead against mine and whispers in a smoky voice, "I'm going to enjoy breaking you, Elizabeth. Quick and dirty until there's nothing left of you, babygirl." I open my eyes and he thrusts his hips forward, penetrating me deep with a single thrust.
The unaccustomed stretch burns and the feeling of being completely full squeezes all the air out of your lungs. I gasp for air and squeeze my eyes shut. A whimper escapes me and when Austin's fingertips twitch on my neck and he kisses my cheeks, I realise I'm crying.
"Ah, you're so fucking tight," he whispers and kisses me. All my muscles are tensed to the breaking point and only when his lips part and his teeth pull lightly on my lower lip does a little tension leave my body.
I'm out of breath and a ball of fire races down my spine and explodes between my thighs as he slowly pulls back and then slides back inside me. More fluid and deeper this time; I run my hands from his ribcage to his cheek to his hair. I bury the fingers of one hand in his unruly hair and tilt my head back as the burning sensation turns into a less urgent pain and subsides.
"That's it!" he praises me and slides out of me, only to penetrate me more firmly the next moment.
I press my lips into the crook of his neck and lick and suck at his skin. "Austin," I moan, overwhelmed.
"You take me so well, babygirl." He gyrates his hips and new sensations race through my body again. My toes curl and I wrap one leg around his hips. He sucks on my neck and scratches my sweaty skin with his mouth and teeth open. "You smell so good."
I melt under him. Why does he say he can't do the romantic thing?
Before I can follow the loose thread of thoughts in my head, he lifts his head and his eyes lock on me. His fingers slide from my neck to my throat and wrap around it. I blink at him under half-lowered lids and then his thumb slides over my parted lips and he grins wolfishly. His eyes darken as my hot breath hits his thumb and then something unexpected happens. The grip of his hand around my neck tightens. He squeezes the air out of me with controlled pressure. It's close to the pain threshold and I panic.
The corners of his mouth twitch devilishly and his eyes darken. He savours the hint of my panic and as I slide my hands out of his hair and around his wrist, he intensifies his gyrating hip movements. I groan again and notice a tingling sensation building in the depths of my muscles…just like before when he knelt between my legs. I swallow restricted by his hand and the grin on his lips darkens into something…more dangerous, more unbreakable.
In something that really scares me. Scraps of memories from the past few hours appear before my eyes. Austin's first grab for my wrist at the bar, then the gruelling back and forth of our gazes across the evening, to the fight with Benny, and his lips between my thighs.
Austin narrows his eyes and licks his pink lips. His thrusts alternate between fast, and slow and hard. Then he changes the angle of his hips, leaning from his elbow back onto his hand. He wraps his fingers around my neck a few shades tighter and I gasp slightly.
Panic flutters over my body and I try to squeeze my legs together. But with him between my legs and over my body, I hardly have a chance to defend myself or move. He enjoys my reluctance and takes pleasure in my burgeoning panic. Sick bastard!
"Yes," he grins devilishly. "Lose yourself in desire, babygirl." His thumbnail traces my lip and then slides into my mouth. My vision blurs and I suck on his thumb. He growls and suddenly there's no holding back. Austin speeds up his movements; sliding in and out of me, again and again with heavy breaths, and I melt beneath him.
The panic and my desire for redemption are close together. I can't keep the two feelings apart as they blur and send hot, cold shivers through me.
"You look so pretty underneath me," he whispers. "So fragile," he pushes hard again. "So wonderfully dishevelled," another hard thrust. "…and so fucking wet around my cock. Do you like that, babygirl?" His thrusts are hard on the edge of pain and as the tingling continues to brew in my stomach, spreading through my arms and legs, my eyes begin to water.
"Austin", I shout. Go easy on me, I beg silently. The grip of my hands around his forearm weakens and as he realises this, he loosens his vice-like grip and oxygen floods my airways.
I gasp and scream with pleasure as my orgasm approaches. "Come for me," Austin whispers, breathing heavily, and I burst into a million pieces. He thrusts hard a few more times until he comes too and pours my name into me, panting.
While I try to calm my racing pulse, my thoughts sink into chaos. Wow… that was amazing. That was… erotic and psychotic.
He lowers himself onto his elbows and presses his entire body weight onto me. He breathes loudly and heavily into the crook of my neck and I pull out my arms, which are now trapped between us, and wrap them around his neck. His muscles twitch under my fingers and he is still inside me. Then he lifts his head slowly and looks at me with a dark gaze. The unstoppable storm in his eyes has receded and for a brief moment I think I recognise something like warmth and tenderness on his face, but then he shuts up again.
Austin kisses me softly and then murmurs as he looks at me, "I've never seen soemthing that was so beautiful while I was breaking it."
It's strange that he says something like that. Basically, I don't feel broken, just cracked open. I swallow, barely comprehending his words. Austin has cracked my hard shell, and sticky, sweet infatuation oozes out of me.
He slowly slides out of me and I close my eyes. "Oh." I wince at the unfamiliar sensation and immediately wrap my arms tighter around his back as he try to stand up. "Please stay. Just a minute."
Confusion flickers in his eyes again, but he nods almost imperceptibly and lowers his face into the crook of my neck. To be honest, I don't know what I'm doing, but asking him to stay feels terribly intimate. Austin isn't the kind of guy you cuddle with, but a tiny spark of hope ignites in my chest as he relaxes over me and stays put.
I run my fingers through his slightly sweaty hair and enjoy the weight of his body on me. "Are you okay?" he asks, still hiding his face in the crook of my neck.
I hesitate and close my eyes. For a moment, I hush inside my body. A bittersweet burning sensation sets in between my legs now that the arousal has subsided and my muscles feel heavy. Tomorrow I will have sore muscles everywhere. A giggle escapes me and he lifts his head. I slap a hand over my mouth and mumble, "Sorry. It's just so ironic that you ask me that after you…well…choked me."
His blue eyes glow. "I'm well aware of that," he says dryly, lowering his gaze to my neck. His fingertips gently stroke the sensitive skin and I sigh silently. "Was I too rough? I know I can be pretty wild", he adds.
Pretty wild and hot. A little scary and controlling, but hot. I give him a gentle smile and kiss his jaw. "I'm okay, but thank you."
Now that he has cracked my hard shell, the feelings just bubble out of me. Butterflies are dancing around in my stomach and I know that things will only get worse from here on out.
I feel strangely cared for as he rubs his knuckles over my neck and whispers: "Your skin is so beautifully red from my hands." He drags his thumbnail across the edge of my chin and my toes tense. My body twitches beneath him and he grins triumphantly.
Then he leans towards me and kisses me tenderly. Just as I'm about to lose myself in his lips, he ends the kiss and makes an effort to get up.
That's it now, isn't it, I think disappointedly. No, that can't be all. My subconscious lazily lifts its little head and blinks at me. Where has it been for the last hour? It eyes me skeptically and shakes my shoulders. Pull yourself together, Elizabeth. Understand that he doesn't stand for romance. He's rough, wild and unrestrained. I grin mischievously at the thought.
I watch Austin stand up and reach for his boxers and jeans. He quickly puts them on and when he reaches for his shirt, I'm on my feet in a flash and pick it up off the floor. He gives me a wolfish, playful look.
"What are you doing, babygirl?" he asks, clicking his tongue.
I realize I'm still completely naked, and in another situation I'd be damn uncomfortable, but I try to stop him. At the ridiculous performance, my sense of honor props his face in his small hands and shakes his head. Fuck that! This can't be the end.
"I don't want you to go." The words pass my lips before I can stop them and his eyes widen.
Then he looks at me very seriously and comes towards me. He reaches out a hand and curls it around the back of my neck, forcing me to look at him. "I'm not staying the night-guy. I'm just not like that, babygirl," he states dryly.
Everything inside me roars. I know, I know. I press his shirt against my bare breasts with both fists. The bitter disappointment that he wants to leave and leave me alone hits me unexpectedly. Even though the sensible part of me had foreseen all of this.
"So you're done with me now after you broke me?" I sound more emotional than I should. I taste the bitter truth of my words on my tongue. Austin blinks at me, startled by my emotional outburst, and rubs the back of his neck with one hand.
"Don't do that. Don't make it so hard on yourself, Elizabeth," he murmurs. "You knew what you were getting yourself into. I'm not your prince in shining armor."
I squint my eyes. "Obviously." I sound hurt and biting. He takes a step closer to rip the shirt from my hands. I shake my head, barely noticing. I dare him to do that!
"So I'm only worth one fuck?" I then ask, suppressing the trembling in my voice with all my might. "Got it. that you won't take me out or love me, but do you have to be such a bastard. You just took my virginity and you're so - ah -," I mumble angrily, my tongue flicking out of my mouth. "…such a fucking bastard! Couldn't you at least have had the decency to cuddle me for a few more minutes?"
Austin grinds his jaw and his blue eyes flash emotionlessly. The hardness in his gaze makes my blood freeze in my veins. "It's better if you're angry with me. Hate me if you have to, but don't fall in love with me. You don't want me in your life," he makes it clear and rips the shirt from my hands.
Too late, I think.
"It scares you," I say, startled. As the words slip past my lips, his eyes widen and he freezes in front of me. Apparently I've hit the bull's eye. "You finally care about something in life besides your MC and now you're trying to push me away by being disgusting to me. Stop it, you son of a bitch!"
Austin growls. "No, you're wrong." He leans his lips so close to my ear that I can feel his warm breath on my skin. "That didn't mean anything to me with you. It was just a fuck."
My pulse quickens and I jut my chin out. Even though his words hit me hard, I blink into his eyes and murmur, "If it didn't mean anything to you, you can spend the night with me. It wouldn't change anything, right?" I raise an eyebrow defiantly, and the moment Austin inhales loudly through his nose and licks his lips, I know I've hit his sense of honor.
Maybe my provocation is pathetic and maybe I'm making a fool of myself because it really meant nothing to him, but in the way his muscles tense and the corners of his mouth twitch, I know I've found a vulnerable spot.
"Fine," he grumbles in a low voice. "As soon as the sun comes up, I'm gone. Come here." I can hardly believe my triumph and I stifle a squeak with all my might. His big hand clasps mine and pulls me towards him. "Lift your arms," he instructs me and pulls his muscle shirt over me. Then he picks up my panties and helps me into them. I watch him without comment and bathe in the tingling waves of my little victory.
He walks with me by the hand to the couch and lies down. His back is half leaning against the backrest and when he spreads his legs and pulls me between them, I almost trip over my feet. Austin wraps his arms around me and looks tense as I rest my cheek on his bare chest. I close my eyes and just before I fall into a dreamless sleep, I feel his fingers stroking my hair and a soft, husky voice. "Maybe you just mean too much to me."
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Hey FELLAS ❤️
OMG, I can't even believe I wrote this emotional and steamy adventure! Please commet down below your thoughts and feedback! It would mean the world to me if you reblog the post, show it to your friends and community or like it 🫢
It would make me the happierst author in the world if you (my fave people) commet down belong.
tagging: @bloodynereid @obsessedvibee @avonne-writes @austinbutlermischief @austinbutlerslovers @hogans-heroes @sempervera @sagesolsticewrites
xoxo callumsgirl
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ladykailitha · 1 year
Text
Oh For a Muse of Fire! Part 1
Yeah...I know I said I would be taking a step back but then my muse went “Brrrrr!” and wouldn’t let me up until I had over 6k words and several more scenes I wanted to do, including the end.
Art student!Steve and Live Model! Eddie AU. Enemies to lovers. Eddie is a straight up ass in the first few chapters of this.
*
Steve was in the library looking at his schedule with Robin.
“It’s my last semester, Robs,” he said squinting at the computer screen. “And then I can graduate.”
Robin sighed. “I still have a year to go, you are so lucky.”
Steve was looking at the remaining credits he needed to graduate with art teaching degree and was shocked to find that he only needed one class.
“Shit.”
She leaned over his shoulder to look at the computer, too.
“Shit,” she echoed.
“Live figure drawing,” Steve muttered with an air finality. “The class I failed three times.”
“Mhmm,” Robin agreed. “Once a year.”
He banged his head on the desk. “I hate that class. And it’s always awful. There was the creepy old man that kept hitting on me the whole time.” He had been forced to drop the class. He had been reimbursed for it, but because it happened just after the midterm, insta-fail. “Then there was poor heavy-set girl. The constant sniggering and jeering made me ill and when the professor refused to anything about it...” he shook his head.
“Yeah, that was the worst,” Robin whispered. “But at least that incident got that professor fired.”
Steve nodded. That had been the only good thing that had come out of that class. But getting him fired made for another insta-fail. He tried to protest that one, but the Dean refused to budge.
“The last time was all you, though,” she said, pushing at his shoulder.
Steve cleared his throat and hung his head. Because, yeah that one was on him.
The new professor brought in an extremely fit basketball player. Steve had spent very little time drawing and a lot of time trying not to stare. So when he turned in his final with a blurry face and nothing drawn in the middle, he had failed the class again.
Robin pointed at the screen. “It’s a different teacher again this year.”
Steve lifted his head to look at what she was pointing at. J. Byers.
“Shit,” he murmured. “You don’t think that’s like Joyce Byers, do you?”
Steve had done a lot of babysitting and holding down two jobs to pay for school out his own pocket because his dad wasn’t willing to pay for what amounted to an art degree. He would work at Family Video while the kids were in school and then work at the plant at nights on weekends.
Will Byers was one of those he babysat. The kid had an older brother. But he had been working full time to keep the lights on while their mom got a master’s degree.
Robin’s mouth worked but no sound came out.
“I think this got even more awkward,” Steve murmured.
Robin just patted his shoulder in sympathy.
*
Steve was in hell. That was the only explanation for all of this. It had been Joyce Byers and he had to get the Dean to sign off him being in her class because she might be accused of favoritism. In fact if it hadn’t been the only class Steve needed to graduate he was pretty sure the Dean wouldn’t have allowed it.
Which was fine. Awkward, but fine. Nope. The part that made it hell was who was currently sitting on a stool in the middle of the classroom, (completely dressed, thank god!) was Eddie Munson.
The so-called Freak of Hawkins High. Or as Steve called him in his head “Steve Harrington’s biggest gay crush.” So yeah. All that work to get special permission to take the class and he was going to fail anyway.
Joyce stepped up to stand next to Eddie. “Hello, I’m Mrs Byers. Or Joyce, whichever make you more comfortable. Because that’s the point of this class. You being comfortable. I know this not ideal for a lot people. Especially young people like yourselves. So we’re going to start off slow. Working on different parts of the body and then for your final it will the complete nude form.”
Steve let out a shuddering breath. He wasn’t the only one, thank god, but if Eddie had stripped then and there, Steve would have fainted.
“This will be your live model this semester,” she continued, indicating to Eddie on the stool. “Why don’t you introduce yourself?”
Eddie grinned, his dimples making themselves known. “Hi! I’m Eddie. I was looking for a way to make easy money between gigs with my band. I have tattoos, but Joyce here has assured me that that won’t be problem for you sweethearts as this is an advanced art class.”
Steve gulped. It wasn’t going to be a problem art-wise. But libido-wise? He was in so much trouble.
After class he stopped to talk to Joyce.
“Hey, Mrs Byers,” he greeted with barely the hint of a stammer. “How’s Will?”
Joyce hugged him. “It’s so good to see you, honey. Will is doing great. He’s navigating school better now that we’re back in Illinois.”
Steve nodded. They had briefly gone out to California so that she could get some special accreditation or something like that.
“Tell him I miss him,” he said.
Joyce smiled. “Of course, sweetie.” She gave his hand a squeeze and said she had to get back to work.
Steve nodded again and walked out the door.
“Well, well, well,” Eddie said. “If it isn’t the former king of Hawkins High. I thought I saw you lurking in the back.”
Steve closed his eyes and turned slowly. There he was, leaning against the wall, one leg propped against, while the other stretched out in front of him. His arms were crossed, and his hair dangled in front of his bowed head. Steve itched to draw him oh so badly.
“Munson,” he said trying to keep the tremor from his voice.
Eddie lifted his head. “So you do remember me, should I feel honored?”
Steve let out a heavy sigh. “You do what you want, you always have.”
“I heard you got special permission for this class,” Eddie sneered. “You convince the Dean to take the class for a lookie-Lou? Sorry to disappoint, Harrington. Not some hot chick you can leer at for fifteen weeks.”
Steve’s head rocked back in shock. “Fuck you, man. For starters I got special permission because being the former babysitter for teacher is a bad look for both of us. For another, this is my last class I need for my art degree.”
Eddie raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Daddy let you take art? Must really not need the dough.”
Steve balled his hands to prevent the rage from tumbling out. “No. I worked hard to get where I am. And for the record...they never have hot women. Not if they don’t want to get sued for harassment. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go to work because not all of us can take our clothes off and be paid.”
He stormed off, tears streaming down his face.
*
Eddie watched him go with a slow lick of his lips. That went differently then he expected. He didn’t think Harrington would cop to admitting that he was there to leer, but his lie about art school? That was a new low.
And babysitting? No parent in their right mind would leave Steve “the Hair” Harrington in charge of their kids. Lie number two.
And then trying to get out of talking to him by saying he had work? Harrington lived in Loch Nora. The richest part of town. He didn’t have to work a day in his life. Lie number three.
And what was that about not being able to take off his clothes and get paid? It didn’t sound right to his ears. It was like he wasn’t dogging the modeling gig but that he couldn’t.
Which anyone who had eyes knew that was bullshit.
Joyce came out and saw him still standing there. “Thank you again for doing this, Eddie.”
“You’re welcome, Joyce,” he said with a charming smile. “I don’t mind. I’m sorry your other model bailed on you last minute though.”
Joyce sighed. “She got a bar tending job that starts on tonight and I’d really prefer not to have my models fall asleep in the middle of posing.”
“Chrissy’s good girl,” Eddie said. “I’m actually glad she got the job at the bar. Some of the guys in the class looked pretty slimy.”
Joyce sighed. “It happens every time. They take just enough art classes in order to get in and then are disappointed when it’s not some pretty girl.”
Eddie nodded, thinking of Steve Harrington.
“And this school has had a problem with a couple of the last models they had,” Joyce murmured. “If another incident occurs, the class will be dropped all together and I’ll be out of job.”
“I’ll keep an eye out for you,” he said, with a gentle squeeze of her shoulder.
Joyce looked up at him with a smile. “You’re so sweet, Eddie. I’m glad Will found someone like you to look up to.”
Eddie blushed, shoving his hair in his mouth. “I like the kid. He’ll do just fine.”
Joyce nodded. “See you tomorrow.” She waved goodbye and walked away.
*
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Epilogue
Just tagging a few of my regulars, but if you want to be tagged let me know in the comments. Thanks!
Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369
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bellysoupset · 1 month
Text
The New Guy
It was the first day of class and Vince felt like a toddler in kindergarten. Although he didn't actually remember going to kindergarten back in Italy, but his mom made a point of telling him he had wailed every time they dropped him off, so this was how Vince felt.
Except he wasn't the student today, he was the teacher.
He still wasn't fully back on his feet after such a hellish bout of flu and the emotional stress, but Vince felt steady enough he could at least fake it. Besides, he had wanted to be a teacher his whole life, so even if he felt like crying from the nerves, he was also incredibly excited.
This was his old school and it was weird, to say the least, to walk the halls as a teacher, not a student. Not much had changed - better flooring, a classroom had a smartboard instead of a white one, new teachers.
His old ones were still there, though, and Vince nearly jumped out of his skin upon entering the teacher's hall and having his name shouted, "Vincenzo! Oh look at you!" as if he was the chubby kid who grew up over summer. Which yeah, he sort of was.
The literature teacher was still the same woman, Ms. Lobdell. She had been already been an ancient faculty member back when he was at school and time had done her no favors, but she was sharp as a knife.
His old history teacher had retired, the spot Vince had occupied, and the biology and chemistry teacher, a horrible man whom Vin had hated back then, had also left the school.
He was told all this by Ms. Lobdell, who dragged him around by the arm despite the first class starting at 8 AM and it already being 7:55.
Finally Vince was released from the claws of that sweet wrinkly woman to his class of snotty 10 year old, whom he was already very partial to.
Because moving had been such a huge thing, from his relationship with Wendy and his friends, to quitting his solid job and getting an entirely new place, Vince had been more than a little insecure about the whole thing.
Suddenly it wasn't just "getting a new job", it was "getting a new life" and he felt a gigantic pressure for this to be as good as he had imagined it to be, otherwise... Otherwise he would have gone through all this trouble for nothing.
It was a relief so strong when teaching his first class ended up being everything he had imagined and more, that Vince was teary eyed by lunch break.
"So how was it?" Wendy asked, her voice breathless as she moved around. Vince checked his watch again, noticing his hands were shaking with how nervous he had been. 1:30 PM, she was probably leaving her hot yoga class to get dressed for her evening shifts.
"It was amazing," he confessed, smiling, keeping his voice low, "the kids were great, the teaching plan went smoothly... They keep calling me mister Monacelli, though, which is very weird... It was just great."
"I'm glad," Wendy answered and he could tell she was smiling and meant it, "what now?"
"Now I get my teenagers," Vince scratched at his cheeks, suddenly wishing he hadn't shaved in the morning. He felt too baby faced to handle the teens, doubting they'd respect him, "they're going to eat me alive."
"Yes, but not in the way you think," Wendy teased him, "you're going to be the class crush, just watch it."
He grinned, smoothing his shirt and looking around the empty classroom. Vince had been much too nervous to join the remaining staff in the cafeteria and had had lunch inside his classroom, like a loser. Just a veggie roll too, which normally wouldn't sustain him even for two hours, let alone the rest of the day.
"Now you're just egging me on," he rolled his eyes, "how's your day?"
"Great," Wendy huffed and her voice got distant as if she had left her phone in a surface, "I have far too much free time now that you're not around, so I'm gonna start taking classes."
"Classes on what?" he balled up the paper napkin and grabbed his tooth brushing kit, walking out of the classroom, holding the cellphone to his ear.
"Anything," Wendy sighed, "I just need to occupy myself a bit, it'll help."
"I think you should take interior design classes," he entered the bathroom, "you're always fiddling with things in the apartment."
"Uhm, maybe," she sighed and then he heard a noise and Wendy cursing, "a stupid pigeon just hit my window, I gotta go. Love you, break a leg, Mr. Pussy Magnet!"
"Love you as well, honey," Vince rolled his eyes, hanging up.
His first class after lunch actually went a lot smoother than Vince was expecting, but the second one... He had no idea where his students were.
After fifteen minutes of sitting there without a single soul appearing, Vince peeked at the hallway and frowned. He was half expecting the kids to be pranking him by sitting in the hallway, but nada. Not a single student.
He sighed, locking the classroom and walking back to the teacher's hall to see if anyone else would have an inkling of where his kids had disappeared to.
An older teacher, whom Vince remembered as the trigonometry teacher and who, thankfully, did not remember Vin, was leaning against the window, with his head poking out, smoking.
"Mr. Turella, hi," Vince smiled and the older man smiled back.
"You're the new teacher, right? History?"
"Yeah," Vince crossed the room to shake his hand and the man let out a huff.
"You're looking more like the P.E teacher, son," he teased lightly, "are you lost?"
"No, not really," Vince grimaced, "but I think I lost my kids? No one showed for my class..."
Mr. Turella let out a snort, carefully resting his cigarette on the windowsill and walking across the room to the big schedule that was plastered to the wall, "oh yeah," he shook his head, "Daniels stole your kids."
"Excuse me," Vince frowned, crossing the room so he could look at the schedule as well. Mr. Turella planted a wrinkled finger over the sophomore's schedule and dragged it down.
The class before Vince's was Chemistry, with Mr. Daniels.
"Uh... That's just great," Vince wrinkled his nose in distaste, "I don't suppose I should go over and tell him to release my kids?"
"Bad move for a rookie," Mr. Turella patted his arm, "just wait for them to show and you can chew out Daniels after class. Not that it's going to help much, it never did in my case."
"He does this a lot?" Vince scoffed and the other man nodded enthusiastically.
"Oh yeah, get used to it," the man sighed and walked back to the window, "take the win, it's a break in your schedule."
"It's time they're not learning the curriculum," Vince corrected, groaning as he imagine the headache this would be down the line, when he inevitably fell behind if he didn't have enough time to teach, "alright, thanks Mr. Turella."
"It's John," the man waved him off, continuing to smoke.
Vince returned to his classroom, chewing at his lip since it was still empty. He paced nervously, until his students finally showed, thirty minutes late and chatting loudly.
"We're having P.E now?" a boy asked, causing his friends to giggle and Vince to sigh. It was going to be a long evening.
Mr. Daniels fucking haunted him. His senior students, whom he was dreading already, were also late thanks to the biology classes. Unlike the previous kids, though, they walked in quietly and seemed very interested in Vince, if only because he was new and shiny.
"You cannot be serious-" a girl blurted out, when Vince announced he was holding them for ten more minutes, since they had arrived twenty past the time of class, "sir. You cannot be serious, Mr. Monacelli," she corrected herself quickly.
Vince raised his eyebrows, not the outburst, but at the correction. It was so weird to be treated like that.
"Well, I- Alright, today you can leave, but next time this happens I'll have to hold you until we're done. You can't fall behind so close to SATs," he sighed, gesturing to the whiteboard, "and remember homework."
"Yesssir," there was a chorus of voices, making him cringe. Sir, that didn't sit right.
"I'll see you Wednesday," Vince waved to the door and then sat down, waiting for the kids to leave. As soon as he was alone, he let out a groan and rubbed at his neck.
As Vince walked to the parking lot, he paused as he saw a man leaning heavily against the wall, just outside the view of the buses leaving.
The man had his back pressed to the wall and his hands on his knees, as if catching his breath after running a marathon.
Curiosity got the best of him and Vince stepped closer, wondering if this was a senior student who had been held back - he didn't look seventeen, for sure, but not old enough to be a parent either - and if so, why he hadn't been in his class just now.
"Hey," Vince said, realizing the guy was actually older than he expected as he stepped closer, "hey, you alright?"
The guy shook his head, lips pressed in a thin line, "not feeling too hot..." he let out a soft burp, unashamed, and grimaced, "you're the new guy, the new teacher."
"Uh- It's Vince..." Vince frowned, inspecting the other man. He was a blonde, with most of his hair pulled up in a man bun, showcasing an undercut. He was wearing a buttoned up shirt, but with short sleeves - which should be a crime, in Vin's opinion, - and he could see his left arm was completely tattooed.
Definitely not a teacher, Vince thought, crouching slightly. The guy wasn't short, but compared to Vin he was. He also looked incredibly, terribly familiar.
"I'm Max," the man grimaced and spread his feet apart, "I'm gonna hurl, you should step back."
So casual about the whole deal, as if it wasn't mortifying. Vince frowned even more, "are you waiting for your kid, Max? Can I get someone for you?"
"My kid?" Max let out a little chuckle, which quickly turned into a groan and he wrapped an arm around his stomach, "no, I'm fine. Lunch was just too heavy, the cafeteria food fucking sucks."
"You're a staff member?" Vince frowned, even more confused. He wanted to get a decent look at the man's face, but he was sort of bent over, with a couple hair strands falling in front.
"Bio-" Max cut himself off with a gag and groaned loudly. He panted, back heaving and a couple of belches bubbled up, low in volume, but terrible wet. He cleared his throat, but it morphed into a cough and then Vince jumped back as a splatter of puke hit the pavement, sinking in the gravel.
He made a face, reaching out and planting a hand on Max's shoulders, keeping him swaying, and looked around, hoping there was anyone better equipped to help.
"Fuck-" Max groaned, pressing his stomach with a hand and heaving again. An empty, painful and loud, heave, followed by another cough and more vomit, this time a much larger amount. He let out a little moan, hanging over the puddle with an arm wrapped around his middle and panting.
"Done...?" Vince grimaced and the man nodded, wiping his lips on the back of his hand and then making a face at it, wiping his hand on his jeans.
"Urgh, that was gross..." he straightened up, taking a steady breath and sidestepped the mess on the ground, "sorry. I didn't catch your name?"
"Vince," he repeated, studying the man's face. They were about the same age, now Vince realized, but Max looked younger. Blonde with brown eyes and a tanned complexion, he looked like a surfer who had gotten lost on his way to California, "I'm the new history teacher."
"I'm the biology and chemistry teacher," Max shook his hand, following Vince further into the parking lot and Vin nearly stopped on his tracks.
"You're Mr. Daniels?"
"Uhhh yeah man, the one and only," the guy opened a little smirk, looking amused, "you heard about me?"
"You're the prick who held my kids," Vince glared at him, "twice. Thirty minutes each."
"I had to wrap up the subject," Max shrugged, "and they were interested. You know how hard it is to get these gremlins interested in anything, no hard feelings."
Vince scoffed, rolling his eyes, "quit doing that then," he said, finally arriving at his bike, "...Are you sure you alright?"
"I'm fine," Max smiled, smoothing his shirt and undoing the top buttons, "see you around, Mr. Monacelli."
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