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#slides in a minute before midnight
forhappysake · 3 months
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We're Okay
A/N - Guys idk where this came from. I guess I'm just feeling emotional and inspired.
Content - After JJ admits her decade-long love for Spencer, you and your boyfriend have to have a conversation to calm both of your doubts and fears.
Warnings: spencer reid x fem!reader, season 14 spoilers, anxiety, mentions of typical BAU-level crime stuff, fluff at the end
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You walked in the door slowly, cautionary even; afraid the smallest noise would bring reality crashing down on you. The car ride home had been completely silent, as neither of you bothered to turn on the radio. Spencer shuffled in behind you, the click of the lock making you wince as you did your best to avoid his gaze. You stripped off your coat, throwing it over the couch before walking straight into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind you. 
As you started the shower and stripped off your clothes, the evening’s events rushed back into your mind. Being involved in a hostage situation with an unstable unsub was one thing. JJ being held at gunpoint was worse. However, as if all that wasn’t enough, JJ admitting her decade-long hidden love for Spencer was the final nail in the coffin. As you climbed into the shower, you did your best to let the water wash away the thoughts running through your head. 
Unfortunately, your attempt was unsuccessful. As you dried off and wrapped yourself in a towel, your mind raced. You’d been dating Spencer for nearly a year and a half. The two of you had just recently moved in together. Having known him and JJ for at least half a decade, you knew they were close, but you never would have guessed this was coming. You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same way she did. If so, what did this mean for your relationship?
After stalling in the bathroom for so long that goosebumps dotted your freshly dried body, you mustered up the courage to slip out of the bathroom and into the bedroom that you shared with Spencer. As you walked across the hallway, you could see his silhouette sitting on the living room couch, head bent forward. You couldn’t tell if he was reading or in deep thought, but you decided that either option was better than the alternative: trying to have a conversation. 
You snuck into the bedroom, gently turning on the bedroom light and letting your eyes adjust to the warm glow of your room. You meandered to the closet, pulling out a simple t-shirt and shorts to sleep in. Slipping into your pajamas and stealing a glance at yourself in the vanity mirror, you noticed one of the many images covering the tabletop. 
A framed photograph from less than a year ago of JJ, Will, Spencer, and yourself with the boys on a weekend hiking trip. You felt a pang of guilt in your chest and wondered if Will had any idea what was going on in JJ’s head. You shook the thought away, reminding yourself that you had bigger problems of your own to deal with. You turned back to the bed, sliding under the covers and turning off the light. Despite your distress, you were exhausted and you found yourself losing track of time and drifting off to sleep in mere minutes. 
*  *  *
You awoke to the sound of the bedroom door latching shut. You rolled over, blinking your eyes open in an attempt to sneak a peak at your bedside alarm clock. You’d already been asleep for three hours and Spencer was just now coming to bed. It was well after midnight, and you knew that meant he had been up thinking about something. You figured it would be best not to push the subject after everything that had happened. 
With your eyes shut, you waited to feel the familiar sensation of Spencer climbing into bed. Instead, you felt his weight at the foot of the bed, as if he had perched himself on the end. You tried not to think much of this and did your best to fake sleep. However, it soon became apparent that Spencer was on to you. 
“I know you’re awake,” he said gently. His voice was gruff from the hours he’d spent in silence. Spencer waited before speaking again, “I think we should talk about what happened.” 
There it is, you thought. Your stomach sank as your eyes fluttered open. You rolled over to face him, leaning up on your arms. It was then you noticed that he was still in his suit. His unkempt hair fell over his eyes and you couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for the disheveled man in front of you. “Alright,” you relented, still refusing to meet his eyes, “what do you want to talk about?”
Spencer rolled his neck, tension evident in his movements. “I want to know how you feel about what was said earlier,” he said. For the first time in hours, you met his eyes, trying to gauge his sincerity. You found no signs of dishonesty, so you fell back on the bed, letting out a dramatic sigh. 
“I don’t know, Spencer,” you groaned. “I definitely was surprised. I definitely wasn’t thrilled.” Spencer nodded, moving some hair away from his eyes as you spoke. “But,” you started again, “it’s not like we can go back and change it now.” 
He reached an arm out, putting a hand over the covers on top of your knee. “I know,” he whispered, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” 
You scoffed a bit at his sincerity and his innocence, meeting his eyes once more. “And how do you feel about it?” you asked. 
Spencer bit his lip in thought. You could tell you had caught him off guard with the question, and he seemed to be calculating his response. “Can I be honest with you?” he said. 
You raised your eyebrows, the nervous feeling in your stomach intensifying. Is this where he tells you he feels the same way and leaves for good? You pushed your thoughts to the side. “Always,” you whispered.
He sighed, laying back on the bed so he was next to you. You could feel the heat radiating off him, and you wanted nothing more than to curl into his warmth. You knew this wasn’t the time, so you held yourself back and held your breath, awaiting his response. 
“First, I was confused,” Spencer explained, eyes locked on the ceiling. “I haven’t thought about JJ like that in over ten years. Frankly, I never knew she thought of me that way, so I was caught off-guard.” 
So he did have a crush on her at one time, you thought. You were ready to close your eyes in defeat, to slip off the bed and out of the apartment and never come back when he cleared his throat. 
“But then,” he started once more, “I had a quick epiphany of all the moments she’d gone out of her way for me, and I could understand where she was coming from.” You turned to look at him, watching his eyes scan the ceiling as he tried to come up with his next statements. 
“And?” you asked, prompting him to continue. 
“And then,” he continued your previous statement, “I was terribly appalled.” 
Your head, which had turned to the ceiling, snapped back in his direction. You felt your eyebrows raise and your jaw drop open a bit in surprise. “Appalled?” you asked, confusion evident in your expression. 
“Appalled,” Spencer echoed, sitting up on the edge of the bed once more and looking back at you. 
“Why?” you asked. 
Spencer shook his head, looking around the room. “I’ve been thinking about that for the last couple hours, and I’ve come up with a lot of reasons,” he mused. “I know she was in a tight place, but Will deserves better than that. The boys deserve better than that. But aside from them,” he leaned over on the bed, intertwining his fingers with yours, “I couldn’t stop thinking about what you must have thought. I was so afraid of your reaction and of losing you.”
Despite your evident emotional state as tears pooled in your eyes, you tried to play it off. “Spencer, this isn’t about me,” you reminded him. 
“Yes,” he said, lying next to you, “it is.” Spencer ran a hand through his hair, pulling some curls out of his eyes. “Everyone knows how much I love you. I know how scary something like this can be. But you have to know that I have no idea where this came from and that anything JJ and I had died, on my end, long before I ever met you.” 
You glanced over at him, the sincerity in his voice had moved you to believe him. For a moment, you forgot about JJ and Will, the boys, and the implications of her words. You offered his fingers a small squeeze. “So we’re okay?” you asked in a tiny voice. 
“More than,” Spencer whispered. 
He rolled on his side to face you and you mirrored his actions. He wrapped his arms tight around your body, the textured material of his suit jacket pressed against your cheek. A gentle kiss was pressed to your forehead and you found yourself falling back into sleep. After several minutes passed, you felt Spencer’s voice rumble through his chest for a final time before he succumbed to sleep: “Ever since I met you,” he mumbled, smoothing some stray hairs away from your face, “it’s always been you.”
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freedomfireflies · 6 months
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Knockout*
Summary: The one where Harry is a handsome stranger who always comes to your diner covered in bruises.
Word Count: 9.4k (jeepers, sorry!)
Content Warning: 18+, smut, slight exhibitionism, very brief violence
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Your stranger is here.
He’s sitting in his favorite booth, fifth one down from the first row, directly next to the window.
He’s got his usual hoodie pulled over his head, obscuring any view of his face. His clothes are dark and seem to cover nearly every inch of his skin. His knuckles are wrapped in white gauze, but are stained with streaks of red.
And he’s looking down. Staring at the menu on the table as though he doesn’t order the exact same thing every time.
A cup of coffee – black – and a slice of pie.
He’s like clockwork. He comes in exactly five minutes after midnight, takes a seat in his booth, and orders his usual.
Then, he pays his bill, and he leaves.
You’ve grown used to him. Comfortable with the idea of his face and his voice and the strange, but unsettling presence he brings with him.
You find that it’s more unnerving when he’s not here than when he is. 
“Hi, Cherry.”
Your stranger’s voice cuts through the quiet diner and forces your attention from the mug of coffee you’re pouring. 
You glance up, finally able to see his face now that he’s lifted his head. His skin is littered with deep cuts and vicious scratches. There’s a bruise just by his eye that’s dissolving into an unsettling shade of purple and his bottom lip is split down the middle.
Even still, he’s smiling. A gentle upturn that looks almost painful given the cracked fibers and dried blood.
“Hi,” you reply softly, feeling your heart race beneath your chest as his eyes find yours. “Would you like your usual?”
Somehow, his grin gets a bit brighter. As though he’s touched by the question. “Of course,” he answers calmly, in a voice you imagine you’d recognize anywhere. It’s deep and sultry, but it crackles like lightning. Sensual in a way you can’t exactly explain. “What have you made tonight?”
“Chocolate,” you tell him, glancing back toward the counter where the pies are displayed. “With extra whipped cream.”
“Mm.” His hum is playful, and it matches the glint in his eye. “How much extra?”
“As much as you want.”
He laughs, and you swear fairies are born. “Then I will have a slice of your chocolate pie, with as much whipped cream as you’ll allow.”
You feel your cheeks warm as you nod and turn on your heel to grab his order. Setting the coffee pot down before grabbing a small plate.
Once it’s ready, you return, sliding it across the table beside his mug. “Is that all?”
“No,” he says simply, gesturing now toward the seat across from him.
And just like every other time, you feel your pulse jump. “I’m…I need to get back—”
“You don’t need to go anywhere,” he interrupts with a wry grin. “Please?”
Your lips roll into your mouth, and your heart lands in your throat. Your stranger has always been good at getting you to do what he’d like, and it seems tonight is no different. 
So, with a sigh, you glance back toward the kitchen. Checking to make sure you aren’t needed too direly before you slip off your apron and slide into the booth.
“There,” he hums, placing his arms on the table to learn forward. “S’much better, hm?”
And you can’t help but smile as you nod and glance toward your cuticles. Avoiding that vivid green that always seems to send your stomach into a frenzy. 
“How are you?” he asks next, and his voice is soft, as if attempting to draw your attention back.
Braving a glance, you lift your head, and meet his eye. “I’m all right. How are you?”
“Good. Better now.”
The flirtatious remark sends a rush of heat to your cheeks. But you don’t respond, instead reaching out your hand toward his. Allowing your fingers to dance along the gauze that’s wrapped around his knuckles. 
“It’s bad again,” you whisper, and you feel him study you. 
There’s a gentle pause. And then, “Not by much. It’s been worse.”
You suck in a quiet breath and hold it deep within your lungs. Turning his arm around in order to inspect the wounds painted near his wrist. “You promised.”
Even without seeing the full of his face, you catch his expression fall. 
“I know, Cherry,” he murmurs. “And I’m trying, I promise. S’just…not that easy.”
Your throat constricts, growing dry from the implication. “I know.”
It’s almost inaudible, but your stranger still hears it, and he sighs as he slips his fingers between yours. Pulling your focus back to him. 
“You know you don’t have to worry about me,” he says, squeezing your palm as if to cement the point. “M’gonna be okay.”
“Are you?”
He looks gutted. Ashamed of your disappointment. “It’s just something that I have to do.”
“Why?”
He considers this before shaking his head once. “I don’t know.”
It’s the same answer every time. You ask him who does this to him. Why he does this to himself. Where he goes, why he keeps going back.
But he never offers anything concrete. Just enough to keep you hoping.
He leans closer. Desperate to make you understand. “I’m gonna be all right, Cherry. I promised, didn’t I?”
“But this isn’t ‘all right,’” you argue quietly, once again studying his scars. “You hurt yourself. Or you let somebody else hurt you. And I don’t know why.”
He takes in a breath before setting it free. “I don’t know why, either. But it’s not forever. And I promised you I would be okay. So, I will be.”
You release him and pull yourself from his grasp. Creating a physical distance much like his emotional one. 
“I have to be,” he adds, and that charming smirk reappears. Popping a dimple from his cheek. “I’d miss your pies too much.”
Even if your insides have twisted, you can’t help but laugh. “I suppose they’d miss you, too.”
“Good, I would hope. Might be my second-favorite sweet thing here. Only after you.”
Again, his coy remark leaves you entranced. Hands gathering on your lap as you look out through the large window beside you. “You’re quite forward tonight.”
“M’forward every night. You just don’t notice.”
“Is that right?”
“It is. Can’t really help myself, Cherry.”
The familiar nickname feels like home. It was coined after the first night he’d come in. He’d sat in your section – this very booth – and made small talk while you served him. 
He asked for your recommendation, and you suggested one of the desserts. The pies were your specialty, and you made a new one every evening. He seemed charmed by this and ordered two slices.
That night was cherry. He ate every bite between sips of his coffee and compliments to you. Leaving nothing but crumbs once you came to collect his plate.
He told you he loved cherry pie. It was his absolute favorite. But he’d never had a pie as good as yours.
And from that night on, you became his Cherry.
He never asked for your real name, and you never offered. You supposed this was intentional. A way to protect you from whatever life he led outside the diner doors.
And in the few weeks he’s been coming back for yet another slice of your pie, you’ve learned only three things about him:
He always pays with big bills.
He drives a vintage, black ’69 Mustang.
And his name is Harry.
Anything past that you suppose isn’t yours to know. Yet despite that, you feel drawn to your stranger. Even if he only seems to exist after midnight.
“You weren’t supposed to be working tonight,” he says, calling your attention back. 
You glance away from the window just in time to see his frown. “Joshua asked me to cover a few of his shifts,” you explain. “I’ll be here through the weekend.”
“You covered him last week,” he reminds you, with just a touch of disapproval. “And a few weekends before that.”
Your stranger is right, but you merely lift a shoulder and let it fall. “I don’t mind. The extra money is nice, and the night shift is always quiet.”
“Not always,” he retorts, and you notice the pull of his eyebrows. “Not everybody is as kind as you, Cher. Not in this part of town. Or this late.”
You can’t help but smile at his need to shelter you. “I know. But Owen is here, and he makes sure to check on me from time to time.”
However, Harry’s expression seems to settle into something hard and unnerved. “And what if he gets distracted? What if he doesn’t see some loser trying to grab for you? Or talk to you? Or take advantage of you?”
His voice is rising, a gentle but obvious crescendo that turns the heads of the few patrons scattered about the diner. 
You reach for his hand once more, squeezing it hard to implore him to listen. “Then I will use my extensive training as a waitress and kick their ass.”
You can tell he doesn’t want to, but he smiles. Brushing his thumb along your wrist before looking down. “I’m only trying to protect you.”
“I know,” you whisper, dipping down in order to find his eye. “But I’m not the one who needs protecting.”
The air is charged with a sort of tension you can’t explain. He feels so close and yet so very far away. Your heart aches for your stranger, and for his scars that never heal.
“Hey,” calls a loud voice, ringing through the small diner until you and Harry both turn. You find a man sitting near the counter, wearing a camouflage baseball hat and flannel shirt. His beard is long and scruffy, and his expression is wildly annoyed. “Do you fucking work here or not? Been waiting on a refill for ten goddamn minutes.”
Feeling rather embarrassed of the way you’ve neglected the other customers and deserted your post, you quickly slide out of the booth and stand. Cheeks warm and heart racing. “Yes, of course. I’m so sorry, sir.”
You rush to check on the coffee pot near the counter, making sure that it’s hot and fresh before you approach. Then, you tip the spout into his mug, and refill his drink that’s already three-fourths of the way full.
You can see Harry watching you from his spot. A similarly irritated look behind his eye as he studies the man sitting before you.
Once the coffee has been refilled, you nod an apology, and begin to retreat.
“Not so fast,” the customer grumbles, clearing his throat as he straightens up. Forcing you to hesitate. “I want my check. And a slice of pie on the house. For my troubles.”
Your heart leaps into your throat, but you nod again. The Starlight Diner doesn’t exactly offer free pastries, and anything that a staff member has to comp comes out of the employee’s paycheck. 
Granted, one slice won’t set you back too far, but the shame will. The idea that you left a customer waiting while you chatted with a man you hardly know. It’s unprofessional and not at all how you’d like to be perceived in the workplace. As a mindless girl who merely doddles her day away. Fawning over handsome strangers and daydreaming about a life she can’t have.
“Absolutely,” you tell him, rushing to grab him a fresh piece just as Harry begins to stand from the booth. “Will that be all?”
“Don’t be stingy with the whipped cream,” he instructs. “In fact, I’d like to see you put it on in front of me. So I can make sure you aren’t trying to fuck me over.”
The blood drains from your face. You feel humiliated under the warm hue of lights strung up around the restaurant. Grabbing the can of whipped topping in a desperate attempt to please and end the interaction all together.
“Why don’t you watch your fucking tone,” Harry grits, approaching the man from his left.
But the customer merely scoffs, refusing to offer him even a disinterested glance. “Yeah, and why don’t you mind your own business?”
Suddenly, Harry’s hand smacks down onto the counter beside him, inches from his plate while the coffee inside his mug trembles.
You can’t help but jump, arm recoiling away from the pie while the entire diner grows quiet. Everybody’s attention has turned to your stranger. Watching him closely as he leans forward, and dips down to catch the man’s eye.
“Wasn’t a question,” he murmurs darkly. “You watch your fucking tone when you speak to her. Or I’ll watch it for you.”
And you can tell the older gentleman is a bit off-put by Harry’s distressing demeanor. Yet he remains rather calm, clearing his throat again before leaning back. “And what are you gonna do about it, cupcake?”
Harry’s head cocks to the side. “Would you like me to show you?”
“Harry,” you whisper, just loud enough to force his eyes to yours. “It’s okay. It’s fine.”
“Yeah, she’s fine, buttercup,” the customer snorts, spinning around to face you once more. “Now let’s go, princess. I don’t have all fucking night.”
His fingers snap together before he points toward the pie. Instructing you to continue applying the fluffy cream until you hesitantly continue.
The whipped desert sprays out of the can in a steady stream, piling higher and higher atop the pie until it begins to spill over onto the side.
Yet he doesn’t stop you. He simply nods and mutters for you to keep going. To fill the plate until he’s satisfied. 
And you know exactly why he’s doing it. Not to satiate a sweet tooth but to demean you. To force you under his cruel, sadistic stare until you fold like a house of cards.
Your stranger fumes from his place a few feet away. You can tell he’s desperate to intervene, but he obeys your look of frantic insistence. Remaining quiet while you oblige the customer’s request. 
Soon, the can runs out. The last few drops spewing from the nozzle until you’re left with nothing but air and an empty bottle.
With a hitch in your breath, you begin to withdraw your hand. He’ll have to drop this degradation act now, and you hope that he only demands the rest of his check before going about his night.
However, before you can fully retract your arm, a collection of grimy fingers dart out and curl around your wrist. Keeping you in place while the man’s eyes narrow and he hisses, “Did I say you could stop?”
But the moment his palm touches your skin, Harry is stepping forward, grabbing a fistful of his collar, and hoisting him from his seat. Then, he shoves him back against the tile wall just behind him, the connection so forceful, it knocks the gentleman’s hat askew.
The other customers, including yourself, gasp from the sudden act of violence. Watching as Harry steps up to him and sneers in his face with the vilest look of disdain you imagine you’ve ever seen.
“Don’t ever…” he seethes through deep, even breaths, “…put your fucking hands on her…again.”
And he’s terrifying. So utterly terrifying, with his busted knuckles, his cracked lip, and his bruised jaw. It’s clear he’s a threat, and the man he’s holding goes deathly pale as Harry keeps him trapped against the wall.
All he can do is nod his understanding, choosing to end the fight before it can begin while Harry – after a very long moment – finally lets him go and allows him to flee from the diner.
There’s a stillness in the café that makes your heart race. The few regulars that are left watching on with a mixture of sympathy and embarrassment. It’s not until Harry shoots them their own venomous glare that they quickly turn away and continue on with their meals.
You slump into the counter, letting the can drop to your side while the sound of a door flinging open echoes from somewhere behind you.
“The hell…is going on?” Owen calls, exiting the kitchen in order to get a better look around. He finds you first, raking his stare up and down your frame before looking to Harry. “What happened?”
“You fucking left her out here, alone,” Harry barks. “That’s what fucking happened.”
Owen’s eyebrows raise as he moves his attention to you. But you quickly side-step into Harry’s path, attempting to end another confrontation before it can begin.
“Just…a customer,” you finally answer softly, reaching for the plate in order to clear your regret away. “It’s fine. He left.”
Your boss nods once. “But he paid first, yes?”
Again, your heart sinks into your toes. Lashes fluttering when you realize his bill will be coming out of your paycheck. “He…um, no, he…he left before I could collect it—”
“Darling,” Owen sighs, and it’s heavy with disappointment, “what did we talk about?”
“I…I know. I’ll…I’ll pay for it—"
Harry’s palm suddenly smacks down onto the counter for a second time this evening. Yet now, there’s a wad of cash beneath his hand. From the looks of it, well over a hundred dollars.
“This will cover it,” he mumbles, turning his unforgiving stare to your boss. “And it’ll cover the rest of her shift, too. She’s done.”
With that, his fingers are wrapping around your upper arm before you can even wrap your head around his offering. Blinking wildly while Owen glances from the cash to you in an effort to piece together Harry’s instruction.
 But your stranger leaves you no room for questioning or bargaining. He’s pulling you out the diner door and into the dark parking lot before you can even bid your boss goodbye.
He strides between the cars before hooking a left around the building. Leading you toward the back alleyway where he normally keeps his car, the wet pavement squeaking beneath his sneakers.
 And during this fervent stalking, his fingers slide down from your upper arm and into your hand. Grasping it tightly as if to make sure he won’t lose you.
Perhaps a part of you would like to feel miffed or ashamed of what just took place, but you can’t seem to fault him for his reaction. He’s always been nothing but kind to you – even if he doesn’t always lend that kindness to others. Expressing his desire to protect you, even if he doesn’t know you.
You wonder if this need to defend is part of the reason why you’ve only ever seen him covered in scars and bruises. If he comes to the diner in the dead of night in order to watch over you. Like a guardian angel or vigilante. 
Right now, however, he disappears into the shadows, gently pulling you along with him until you see his car only a few feet away. He releases you at the same time that he releases a heavy sigh, running a hand through his dark curls as his hood is pushed down. 
“Harry…” you begin quietly, tentative of startling him.
“I’m sorry,” he says before you can even finish. “M’sorry, I lost my temper. I know.”
You watch the way he turns away from you. Bracing himself against the hood of the Mustang while dropping his head in what you only assume is remorse.
And your heart aches for him. For the gentleman that lives beneath the outlaw. “Harry,” you whisper again, stepping closer in order run your fingers down his back. Feeling the way his muscles tense before melting beneath your touch. “I’m not mad, I promise.”
“I know you don’t like it when I interfere,” he mumbles, and it’s almost swept away by the cold, early morning air. “But he fucking touched you, and I—”
“I know,” you interrupt tenderly. “I know, and I’m not mad. I’m glad you did it. I’m glad you were here.”
He hesitates, face turning toward his shoulder. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You allow your chest to meet his spine. “Always feel safer with you.”
He exhales deeply, releasing something heavy before he’s turning around, and reaching for your cheeks. The soft, stained gauze slides against your skin, and his touch is firm. Keeping you in his embrace while he gazes at you warmly. 
“Are you all right, Cherry?” he asks now, thumbs sweeping beneath your eyes. “Did he hurt you?”
Your head shakes. “No. Scared me a little, but I’m okay.”
It’s clear he doesn’t like this, that familiar frown reforming as he holds you a bit tighter. “He never should have spoken to you like that. Much less put his fucking hands on you—”
“I know, but it’s okay,” you interject again, hoping to ease his stress. “I’m okay because you were here.”
And this is the only thing that seems to calm him. That familiar smile of his the perfect remedy for such a strange night. You don’t want to tell him how often this happens. Especially during the later shift. But that’s what you get for working at a 24-hour diner, and you’re starting to think this is merely part of the job.
And truth be told…you think he already knows.
His forehead meets yours, and you can’t help but grin yourself. Grateful for the comfort he provides – stranger or not.
“Speaking of which…why are you here?” you ask gingerly. “I thought you didn’t come in on my days off?”
“I don’t. But…I saw your car.”
“Oh…how?”
His smirk transforms into something coy. “I was driving by.”
“Oh, really?” you tease. “On purpose?”
The smile slips now, a more reverent look in his eye as he nods. “I like to check on you. Make sure you’re okay.”
And maybe in any other universe, this would strike you as odd. Perhaps even unsettling or disconcerting. 
But even if you don’t know him, you know him. You know his intentions have only ever been pure, and even without having much more than his name, he has always made you feel safe. 
You choose to believe in him. In the goodness of your stranger and the care he provides. Inside and out.
“You do?” you murmur, allowing your hands to rest on his chest. “How often?”
A beat. Then, “…every night.”
The alley grows quiet. Scattered streetlamps reflect off the pools of water that are sprinkled across the cement, warming the dark night with their sepia-toned beams.
And you stand there, just you and him, while the weight of the world seems to rest on his shoulders.
But instead of chastising him or asking any further questions, you push yourself up onto your tiptoes…and kiss him.
It’s not the first kiss you’ve shared, and you know, undoubtedly, that it won’t be your last. Your stranger has been stealing your kisses for weeks now.
And you suppose stealing isn’t exactly a fair comparison. After all, you’ve nearly pleaded with him to kiss you every time he’s come in. 
Not that there’s much need for begging when he’s so willing to offer them to you. Sneaking you away the moment your shift is through. Chasing you through the parking lot…pulling you into the backseat of his car.
It makes you giddy. You feel like a schoolgirl with a crush on the handsome senior. Slipping into the shadows where he waits. Letting him hold you, kiss you, touch you.
It doesn’t matter if you don’t know more than his name or what he does behind closed doors. You choose to share these special – albeit somewhat scandalous – moments with the mysterious gentleman in booth 505.
“My sweet girl,” he breathes against your lips. The wonderfully delicious nickname melting on your tongue. “Missed you.”
You want to remind him that it’s only been about two days, but you can’t. Because you missed him, too.
“And m’so sorry,” he says next, trailing his quick but fervent kisses down your neck. “So fucking sorry for being so bad. Never wanna scare you or make you anxious.”
A soft, delicate noise bleeds from your throat, and you cling to his much stronger frame as though you’re afraid you’ll simply disappear without him.
“Wanna make it up to you,” he whispers. “Will you let me, Cherry? Let me be good again?”
You nod, needing him to keep himself as close to you as he’ll allow. You want to settle him in your lungs, keep him snug inside in your chest. Against your heart.
And a large part of you just wants to keep him…always.
“Let me make it better,” he says, hands dropping to your hips in order to push you toward his car. Placing you against the door in order to trap you and deepen his kiss. “Let me be good, sweet girl. Be good for you.”
And he’s always good. Good to you, good for you. It doesn’t matter how he is with everybody else. 
“Please?” he asks again, leaning back just far enough to catch your eye. “Will you let me?”
He wants your explicit consent. Wants you to say the words before he continues, and you appreciate this stricter habit. 
“Yes,” you manage to answer, exhaling the word with the little strength you still possess. “Yes, please—”
He takes your hand before you can finish, guiding you over toward the backseat before swinging the door open and stepping aside.
“Lay down, baby,” he mumbles gently, pressing a kiss to the side of your head while guiding you in. “On your back, okay? Want you comfy.”
You do as instructed, dipping down into the vehicle before settling into the soft, leather seat. Flipping over until you can find a position you like. 
Harry is quick to follow, landing between your thighs before pulling the door shut. You both maneuver until he can hover his body above yours, keeping you beneath him as he runs a palm up the side of your leg.
His warm hand feels good against your bare skin, the dress you’re required to wear as part of your waitressing uniform bunching just at the top of your knees from the new position. But it’s like ecstasy, heating up your goose bumped skin from the nippy air outside. 
“How’s this, hm?” He squeezes your hip. “You all right, Cher?”
You rest your head against the door and nod, fingers already itching to reach for him again. “Yes, I’m okay.”
“Promise?”
“Mhm. Promise.”
The side of his mouth curls up, and it makes your stomach flutter. “Good girl. Gonna go slow, okay? Earn my forgiveness.”
He continues the lazy strokes to your thigh, falling all the way down to your ankle before going back up. It is slow, and it almost drives you mad. Because he knows what you want. And he knows just how badly you want it.
Things with Harry never go further than you. Something you’re almost tempted to find odd, but he’s a giver. That was made clear from the first time. He derives more pleasure out of your orgasms than he apparently does his own. He only ever wants to touch you, taste you, feel you. It’s never about him. 
You often wonder if there’s a deeper reason for this. If he’s denying himself release on purpose or if he’s merely terrified of getting close. And occasionally you wonder if he simply just doesn’t want to fuck you, but something tells you that’s not the case.
Maybe one day you’ll be brave enough to ask.
Tonight, however, it seems he’s still determined to put the attention on you. Long fingers gently scratching at your leg until you shiver. It makes him grin.
“Can I see you, baby?” he asks softly, letting his eyes trail beneath the hem of your dress. “See how pretty you are?”
Again, you can only whine pitifully as you motion your head up and down quickly. Wanting to succumb to his strong touch. Only feeling grounded if he’s there to hold you.
“Thank you, sweet girl,” he breathes, using his scarred hands to push your outfit up a bit higher. Revealing your quivering stomach and the delicate pair of panties around your hips. 
They’re nothing special. In fact, you imagine they’re rather embarrassing. A simple, tan fabric that does absolutely nothing to make your pussy look more desirable. 
Perhaps it’s a little silly, but you like to look nice for him. On the nights you know he might be coming to see you (which has been every night you’ve worked since you met), you tend to pick prettier pairs. 
Some with lace, some with little bows. Sweeter colors, sexier colors. Anything that might make him smile.
But you hadn’t anticipated seeing him tonight, and now, you almost want to shy away. Lashes fluttering as you look up toward the roof of his car.
But he doesn’t seem to notice. Nor does he seem to care about the color around your waist, his eyes growing wide as his attention glues to the mesmeric sight before him. Pink, bruised lips parting with wonder while he moves closer. 
“Cherry,” he exhales, the feel of his breath sweeping against your bent knee, “missed you so much. Been forever, hm?”
You nod again, braving another glance just in time to see his hand lower. And then you feel him. Feel his thumb pressing gently into the front of your underwear, just above where your clit lies.
Your entire body seems to spark to life like the flicker of a flame. And you gasp, subtly bucking up into his touch in search of more. In search of him.
He smiles. “S’it feel good, honey?”
You let out a soft breath, chest nearly caving in as you whisper, “Harry…”
He looks up, eyes flicking to yours as that coy smirk grows. “What, baby? You okay?”
Of course you’re okay. He knows you’re okay, but you’ve noticed he likes to hear you say it. He likes to know he’s making it better for you. That he’s helping, that he’s doing good.
When you don’t answer, he returns to your pussy, fingers strumming up and down your covered cunt like he’s playing an instrument. Tuning your body to his needs. 
“Can I touch you?” he asks now, dipping down to nudge his nose beneath your jaw. Pressing a soft kiss to your throat. “Wanna touch you…be good for you, Cher. Was so bad…just wanna make it better.”
He’s attempting to atone for what he did in the diner. To apologize, offer his remorse.
And even if you know he has nothing to apologize for, you can’t find it in you to deny him. Reaching up to tangle your fingers in his curls as you tug him closer. Kissing him fiercely.
He’s hard on himself. You know he is. You don’t know why. You don’t know what the cause is. But you can see the repercussions. They’re painted all over his body, and he wears them proudly. 
He curses against your mouth, and you’re reminded then of his busted lip. Instantly pulling away while you mumble an apologetic, “I’m sorry. I forgot—”
“No,” he nearly groans, slipping his other hand around the back of your neck to keep you close. “No, it’s okay. I don’t mind, I promise. I like it.”
His kisses become hard again. Anxious, desperate, and rushed. As though he needs you in order to survive. His nose knocking into yours from the way he readjusts himself. Wanting to take you deeper, really taste you. 
You’ve never been so happy in your life.
He only pulls away in order to slip your panties down your thighs, pushing them to your ankles until he can really see you.
His entire expression softens the moment his eyes find you. Filled with a certain kind of hope and indulgence as he gazes at you almost tenderly. Unable to resist reaching out and letting his finger brush down your folds. 
You make another noise, but he doesn’t notice this one. Too content to be touching you. Feeling you. Spreading you open just to watch you drip.
“So fucking good to me,” he murmurs. “You know that, sweet girl? So perfect for me. Exactly what I need and far more than I deserve.”
You aren’t sure what he means, but the implication makes you frown. Pulling on his hair a bit harder while he moves to your clit and begins to press down.
The pressure of his thumb against the more sensitive nerves leaves you breathless. Squirming beneath him from the rush of pleasure that only serves in making you needier. 
“Always so warm,” he muses quietly. Almost as if to himself. “So soft. So sweet. Can’t ever get enough of you.”
It makes your head spin the way he seems to adore you. The way he talks about your body as if he can’t believe he’s lucky enough to behold it. To feel it, to get to indulge in it. Worshiping you like you’re his religion.
He begins to rub your clit in slow, teasing circles. Kissing you once more in order to taste your whines and feed off your desperation. Wet noises fill the car. Not just from your pussy, but from his frantic kisses that echo between the foggy windows. 
It makes you shiver, loving the way he nips at your bottom lip just to leave you restless. The way he whispers your nickname before moving to your neck, pulling your skin between his teeth and smoothing over the mark with his tongue.
He goes faster. Chasing after your whimpers and the way you arch your body into his. Loving how excitable you get from only a few flicks of his thumb across your sensitive clit.
Then, he slows down. Exhaling a heavy breath as if bracing himself to edge you. Like it hurts him more than it hurts you.
And you mewl pitifully as you cling to his broader frame and tug him down into your arms. “Harry—”
“I know,” he coos, and it’s gentle the way he speaks. Sympathetic almost. “I know, sweet girl. But m’not done with you yet. Just wanna keep you a little longer. Is that okay?”
You bury your face in his neck and make another noise. Something akin to his name that gets lost in the way he curses.
“It’s okay,” he tries again, allowing you to use his body like a lifeline. “I’ve got you, baby. All right? M’right here, I’ve got you.”
He proves this by resuming his sweet torture. Circling the nerves a time or two more before moving down. Smoothing through your folds and lowering toward the pooling of arousal that waits for him. 
You hear him hum. “So precious. S’this all for me, then? Mine to play with? Mine to taste?”
You whine, “Yes, yes, yes,” as quickly as your mouth will permit, and he chuckles. 
The tip of his finger dips inside, presumably to collect everything you have to offer him before he’s lifting it toward his lips.
And you settle back against the door to watch. Enchanted by the way he places you on his tongue and sucks. His lashes fluttering and cheeks flushing from the taste.
You don’t imagine you’ll ever get used to watching him do that. After all, you’ve never been particularly…unbothered by the idea of somebody tasting you. Not even with past partners. You get too caught up in your own head. Worried about the taste, the feel, the smell.
Truth be told, most of the men you’ve been with before were never interested in you. They wanted what you could give them. And then they wanted out.
By all accounts, Harry is nothing like anyone else you’ve ever known. Not just because of the mystery that follows his persona, but because of his endless attention to you. To what you need, what makes you feel good. 
He devotes every second to making you feel like you’re God’s gift to Earth. A gift to him. Praising you for simply existing. Indulging in your taste as though you're the sweetest dessert he’s ever had.
Like now, while a deep moan reverberates from the depths of his chest. Filling the car and your ears like music, making your thighs clench around his hips.  
“S’why I call you my sweet girl, you know that?” he murmurs, sucking on his fingers until you’re sure there’s nothing left. And even then some. “So fucking sweet for me. Can’t ever get enough. Gonna get me addicted, baby. Might already have.”
The moment he takes his hand back out, you’re lifting up, and pressing your mouth to his. And you don’t even care if you can taste yourself on his tongue because all you really taste is him.
But the mixture of him, and you, and the slight tang of blood from the busted fibers of his lip is euphoric. Strange but lovely in a way you hadn’t anticipated. 
He seems to understand this despondency, growing a bit more frantic in his need to please. No longer focused on edging as he drops his fingers back to your cunt while his other hand moves for the buttons on your chest.
He pops them free one by one until your equally plain bra is revealed to him. But again, he doesn’t take notice of such things. Instead swallowing thickly at the sight of your breasts that swell behind the cups.
He kisses you again. And again, and again. Then he moves to your cheek and down your neck. Trailing his tongue toward your collarbone and along your sternum. 
You feel restless. Waiting for something – for him. You already know how magical his touch is. You already know the kind of pleasure he provides, and it nearly drives you mad to simply sit in anticipation. Stuck on his time.
Eventually he reaches your chest, lips moving for the curve of your tit before he’s making another noise and sucking into the tender flesh. Nipping at it, pulling it between hungry teeth. Smoothing over the marks with the warmth of his mouth while you reel.
Your hands disappear back into his hair. Stroking the curls almost fondly, nails lightly scratching at his scalp.
He’s always seemed to enjoy this. Instructing that you pull on him as hard as you’d like. That you tug and scratch. That you use him to inflict your pain and your pleasure. That you think of him first and foremost.   
Now is no different. He nuzzles himself further into your breasts while simultaneously sighing with contentment at the way your hand feels against his head. The way you keep him close to your heart. 
You’d keep him forever if you could.
You hardly even notice the way his finger has slipped inside. The way it strokes your delicate walls that flutter from the intrusion, tensing before relaxing in order to allow him in.
“There,” he whispers, pleased with the way your body obeys him. “S’okay. Gonna make it better. I promise.”
And you know he will.
“So tight today, baby,” he says, leaving another kiss to the swell of your chest. Open-mouthed and messy. “Has it been that long?”
You don’t know. You can’t remember the last time he touched you, although you’re almost sure it hasn’t been more than a week. The two of you have become rather insatiable for each other. Chasing after a kind of release you only seem to find within the hands of the other.
Those beautiful green eyes flitter up to yours, studying you closely. Benevolently. “Have you not been taking care of yourself, sweet girl?”
You take a moment to consider what he means before you feel your cheeks warm. Offering him nothing more than a quick shake of your head.
He frowns, brows pulling together. “Why not, hm? Thought you promised you’d try for me. Help make things better when I’m not around.”
You shrug, growing a touch embarrassed. “I know, but…it’s not the same. Don’t like it.”
“Is that right?”
Another shake. “Get bored.”
“Bored,’ he repeats, and there’s a certain glint in his eye. But instead of disappointed, he seems empathetic. “Cause it’s not the same, yeah? Your fingers too small?”
Now you nod, making a noise of agreement. 
He nods along with you, beginning to smirk. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Bet it’s just so frustrating, isn’t it? Trying to find all your sweet, little spots, but just not quite being able to reach?”
You cling to him as he stretches you a bit further. Doing everything you can’t do for yourself. Effortlessly curling his finger into that one spot until you begin to shake.
“Just like that, hm?” he mumbles, pressing another kiss to your collarbone. “S’that what you can’t find, baby? S’that what’s so achy?”
And it is. It’s so infuriatingly sore that it almost makes you cry. Wishing you could chase after that feeling until your heart gives out. 
“I bet.” More kisses to your chest. “Don’t worry. I’m gonna fix it, okay? Make it all better again.”
“Please?” you whimper, nails scratching down his broad back. Attempting to pull him closer. 
“Mhm.” He leans forward and brings his lips to yours now. His kiss quick but full of promise. “Always gonna take care of you.”
He begins to thrust the longer digit in and out. Slow enough to work you up but fast enough to leave you wanting more. Coaxing the muscles open before bringing a second finger into play.
The sounds of your wetness being pushed and pulled by his hand are sinful. Sending a chill down your spine and directly into your cunt.
You moan when you feel them, writhing a bit beneath his body until he has to press his leg into yours to keep you still.
“Shh, it’s okay,” he mumbles. Leaving another kiss below your jaw. “Know you can take it, baby. You always do. Don’t you?”
And even if that’s true, you aren’t opposed to the slight sting. Instead invigorated by it and the way he uses great care with you. Wanting to make sure you’re all right so he can please you the way he wants.
Yet somehow, it’s still not enough. Even with the way he curls, and pumps, and thrusts those beautiful digits into your pussy, you feel empty. Barely scratching the surface of that itch as he presses his chest to yours to calm you.
Your noises are becoming more pathetic. Your entire being heaving with the weight of promised pleasure in a way you can’t seem to understand.
His thumb presses into your clit every few minutes, attempting to guide you closer to your release, and it works. The combination making your stomach coil until you nearly see stars. Every cell in your body tightening.
“You close, Cherry?” His free hand moves for your face. Palm pressing into your jaw as the bandage on his knuckles sweeps across your cheek. “Hm? You gonna cum for me?”
And you are. You are, you are. You can almost taste it. Can feel it bubbling up from between your thighs, ready to unravel like the seams on your favorite sweater. 
“Yes,” you gasp, arching from the leather seat. “Yes, please…please don’t stop. Please—”
“Won’t stop,” he promises in a soothing tone, lips ghosting atop yours. “Never stop, I promise. M’gonna be right here until you do, okay? Go ahead. I’ve got you.”
And this is all you need. It happens suddenly and yet far too slowly. Pulling you apart from the inside out. 
You moan so loud, your chest shakes. Eyes rolling back and nails scratching down his spine as it hits you. 
Instantly, he moves his hand from your jaw to your lips. Palm pressing hard against your mouth in order to silence you as he whispers, “Shh, baby. Gotta be quiet for me, okay? It’s okay, you’re all right. Just let go—"
And you do. Allow your body to deplete itself of all energy as he works you through every goddamn second. Dragging it out as far as it’ll go. Increasing the speed of his flicks and thrusts. Pumping your orgasm out of you until it sits in his waiting hand.
“Good,” he breathes before finally removing his hand in order to kiss you quickly. Fingers squeezing the back of your neck as he brings you closer. “So fucking good, there you go. S’okay. Keep going, come on.”
And it’s so good, so wonderful. You feel like you’re floating, high up into the clouds. You decide then that he must be an angel, carrying you in his wings and setting you on a sunset.
But you’re still squirming, seemingly discontented, and he notices far too easily. “You okay, Cher?”
“More,” you whisper faintly. “More…please…”
“More,” he echoes. “My sweet girl wants more. More what, hm? What do you need?”
“More,” is all you say. Once again wiggling your hips down as if to sink his fingers in further. “More, Harry, please.”
“Oh. You want another one. Is that it?”
You nod silently, too strung-out to think in coherent sentences.
He chuckles again, kissing your other cheek before pinching your chin. “All right. Give you as many as you want, baby.”
Feeling incredibly grateful, you allow your trembling limbs to fall slack. Once again settling beneath him as he works to get you to your second.
But even as he resumes the languid but practiced thrusts of his fingers, you feel unsatiated. Eager for something else, but you aren’t sure what.
He realizes before you do. “S’not enough, is it?” he coos. “Need something bigger, don’t you?” 
That’s what it is, and you nod eagerly as your nails scratch down the sleeves of his hoodie. 
“Think you can take something bigger? Think you can take another finger, baby?”
Another nod. Faster, more fervent. Eyes pleading with him to give you anything he has to offer.
He obliges this, glancing down before lining his fingers up, and slowly slipping all three inside.
This stretch is a bit more prominent. He’s deliberately gentle, never giving you more than he assumes you can handle. 
And he watches you closely. Searching for any grimaces or winces of discomfort. 
When he finds none, he seems relieved, kissing up from your chest to your throat once more. “Good girl. There you go.”
You begin to writhe a little more ardently until he has to bring his other hand to your knee in order to press it down into the seat. Keeping you spread and still until you settle.
“Easy,” he coos gently, placing some of his weight onto your thigh. “Gonna have to be good, baby, and relax for me. Let me make you feel good, okay?”
You want to obey. You do, really. But the overstimulation and sensitivity from your first orgasm is almost too much. Making you choke on the heated air until you can hardly breathe.
“Like it when I take care of you, don’t you?” he asks you now. Licking a stripe along your jaw. “Like it when I steal you away from them?”
He’s right, you do. Perhaps you shouldn’t, but there’s something about the way he makes you feel as though you deserve more than this. As though you’re meant for more than the diner. He makes you feel invincible.
“Maybe one day I’ll take you away,” he decides. “Fucking take you from them and make you mine. Forever. For always.”
And you decide you like the sound of that.
Another moment of his strenuous torture passes before he leans back to watch. And you notice something in his face. Utter fascination and lust over the way your body bends to his will. Over the way it stretches around his fingers, the way he pulls it open.
He releases a deep, coarse groan through clenched teeth. Fixated on the way his fingers disappear into your pussy. “Taking me so well, baby. Know you’d take my cock, too, wouldn’t you?”
You whimper miserably, undone by the thought. You can’t deny that you’ve wondered what he’d feel like. All of him, stretching you open. Fucking into you while leaving you a panting mess.
You often imagine what he’s like in bed. In an actual bed and not in the backseat of his car or yours. What he might be like when he’s truly lost himself to the pleasure. Guiding his hips to yours, bending you into a hundred and one positions meant just for his indulgence. 
You wonder if he’d be just as careful as he is now. Just as devoted to you. If he’d be hard and fast or soft and slow. If he has dirty kinks, secret fantasies. If he likes the lights on or off. If he likes the bed or if he likes it up against the wall. 
You hope one day you get to find out. 
“Think you would, yeah?” he continues, sliding his digits all the way to the knuckle. The fibers of the gauze brushing against your clit. “Know you would. Be so good for me. This sweet little pussy would treat me so well, wouldn’t it?”
You nod quickly, pouting at him anxiously.
“I know,” he tuts, finally leaning back over to kiss you again. “Know you’d be such a good girl for me. Let me work you open until you could fit me…let me stretch you just right.”
You reach out for his wrist in search of something to squeeze, and it makes him chuckle. Teeth sinking into your bottom lip until you moan.
“Might take a while,” he muses. “Might take hours. Days. I’ll have to just keep you in my bed until you can fit me, hm?”
He attempts to pull away, but you chase after him. Looping an arm around his neck in order to yank him back to you. 
His smirk feels good against your lips. “M’not going anywhere, sweet girl. Just like to watch you. Bet it’d be fun to watch you take my cock, wouldn’t it? Watch it sink right into this tight little hole.”
He’s evil. Absolutely sadistic and it makes you groan against his tongue until he has to soothe you.
“I know, baby. One day,” he breathes. “I promise. M’gonna take you away and do it right. Make it worth it.”
The thrusting of his fingers becomes more poignant. Enough to drive a plethora of desperate moans from your chest as he nuzzles his nose below your jaw and simply breathes.
“Gonna worship you. Give you everything you deserve.” He sucks in a quiet inhale before dancing his lips along your throat. “Have you sit on my face until I can’t breathe.”
The image has your eyes rolling back. Even if you aren’t sure you’d ever feel comfortable doing so, you’re enamored by the idea. Of the thought of him holding onto your thighs, pressing you down to his mouth. Completely controlling you. 
“Can never breathe when I’m with you, anyway,” he whispers, and you almost don’t catch it. You wonder if you were meant to. “M’gonna do it right, sweet girl. I promise.”
And this is the vow that pulls you through to the other side. Large digits curling up into that one spot that makes your legs shake and you’re falling apart for the second time.
But he still doesn’t stop. Stroking, pressing, pumping even after the tears have begun to slip from your eye. 
“Keep going, there you go. Does it feel good? Feel so good, cumming all over my hand?”
And it does, but you can’t exactly answer. Can’t seem to do anything but cry out as you ride the wave and his fingers as though your life depends on it.
“Doing so good,” he murmurs gently, raising up to kiss you once more. Swallowing your pitiful mewling. “So fucking good, baby. M’so proud of you. Took me so well. So beautiful when you cum, Cherry, you know that? Could watch you forever.”
The sentiment makes your entire body grow warm. You’ve always wondered what you might look like when you orgasm, and truth be told, you imagine it’s not very pretty.
But to hear him say it now – so earnestly – makes your stomach wrench. Nails curling into the seat below as you lift off the leather and knock your chest into his.
He holds you as tight as he can before slowly pulling his fingers out. Relieving you from the overstimulation before putting you back in his mouth. Sucking until a string of saliva drips down his into the gauze on his knuckles. Painting it a much prettier picture than the red has.
After swelling every drop of you with a lewd groan, he finally pulls his hand out, and takes you into his arms. Kissing you through the remnants of the blissful rush.
“So good,” he says again, face burying back into your neck while stroking your thigh with his soaked fingers. “Always make me so proud.”
Your limbs tangle with his as you both slouch into the backseat. Allowing your heart beats to synchronize into one, steady rhythm. 
And once they have, you begin to grin. “Harry?”
“Mm?”
“Thank you.”
He exhales a soft laugh before leaning back onto his knees to get a good look at you. “What for, sweet girl?”
“Just for…this, I suppose,” you mumble shyly. “For all of it. Tonight. Standing up for me and…you know, this part.”
His chuckle becomes a bit more smug. “Are you thanking me for making you cum?”
“I’m…trying. I think.”
“Hm.” His grin is playful and so damn charming as he dips back down to hover his lips near yours. “Don’t have to thank me, Cherry. Believe me. It’s my pleasure.”
His teasing remark makes you giggle, and you kiss him hard before he has the chance to leave you again.
You kiss for a while. A long while. Until you can hardly breathe, your muscles beginning to ache and your eyelids beginning to grow heavy from the lack of sleep in this early morning hour. 
It’s not until you actually yawn that Harry finally remembers to pull himself away and reach for the panties around your ankles. “Shit, it’s late, isn’t it? Know I’ve kept you longer than I should have.”
With a quick shake of your head, you push up onto your elbows. “No. I’m fine, I promise. Just…cumming makes me sleepy, I guess. And you’re so warm. It’s nice.”
This makes him smile again, and that dimple of his makes your heart ache. “You know I’d keep you in this car until the sun came up if I could.”
“I know.” Your fingers outstretch for his hoodie, tangling into the material on his stomach while he guides your underwear back up around your hips. “Maybe one day, yeah?”
His expression softens, and you almost swear you see a flash of sadness behind that sage green. “Yeah. Maybe.”
It’s quiet as you rebutton your dress and pull the hem back down. And even quieter as Harry opens the door and slips out of the car, extending his hand toward you in order to help you out as well.
But once you’ve straightened up and turned to face him, you see that something has changed. A look of longing that hadn’t been there before etched between those scarred features.
His thumb brushes just beneath your eye and then down to your lips. Tracing the lines and dips before he sighs and cradles your cheek in his palm. “Are you gonna be all right?”
You place your hand over his and squeeze. “Are you?”
Another deep breath. Heavier and more forlorn. “You know I’ll try.”
“Promise?”
His forehead meets yours, and you both still. “I promise.”
And you choose to believe him.
You say goodbye, and regretfully let him go. Shaky legs carrying you back to your car as his eyes follow you all the way. Making sure you get there safely before you take off down the road and leave him behind.
A few nights later, you’re back for your next shift. And truth be told, you’re almost excited. Because having to go so long without him feels like a form of punishment. Like your days aren’t nearly as bright without him. And neither are your nights.
You can’t help but count the seconds as you go about your evening. Unable to distract yourself with the pastries no matter how hard you try. Thoughts drifting back to those chocolate curls and that devilish smile.
When midnight strikes, you feel relieved. Releasing a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding as you grab your notepad and slip out of the kitchen. Ready to greet him in his favorite booth.
But the moment you slip past the door, you find that the diner is empty. Not a single customer to greet you as you scan the floor in search of that familiar face. Even a glimpse of his shoes or the sound of his voice.
But the booth is empty, the diner is quiet, and it’s 12:06. 
Your stranger isn’t here.
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I know not too much has happened yet but we are building up to tons more smut and plot and angst and fluff, I swear!! 😭💞
Next Part:
~ Whiplash*
~ Main Masterlist
~ Blurb Masterlist
Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞
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murdrdocs · 4 months
Text
listened to so anxious by ginuwine and got to thinking. ; suggestive content
both you and luke castellan teasing each other “platonically” at first. getting overly competitive during training, especially when it comes to sword fighting. having needless repetitive races, usually over the smallest and most insignificant topics (“bet i can chug this faster than you” “you wish” and then a few minutes later you both have belly aches).
your intentions behind the teasing becomes a little more obvious when it becomes flirtatious. when you both start being less discrete about your mutual crushes.
“you look pretty today,” he tells you with a small smile.
“are you saying i’ve looked hideous every other day you’ve known me?” you’ve left him shocked for a second, before he plays into it.
“if that’s what you got from that then i’m not gonna dispute it.”
your eyes narrow. “you’re lucky you’re cute.”
then comes the physical aspect. when you’re together, sneaking around for secluded moments, and luke is as eager as always. he’s kissing along your neck, holding you close with a hand at your back, gripping the fabric of your hoodie in his palm with hints that he wants to slide it off. but he won’t yet. not without your permission.
your hands are raking in his hair, nails scratching at his scalp just as he likes it. he groans, letting his head fall in the crook of your neck.
“i need you so bad,” he shamelessly admits, pressing his warm hands to your bare skin under the sweatshirt.
you hum, digging your hands into his hair to pull his head back to stare into his eyes. “what time is it?” you tilt your head as you ask it, putting on a facade that is the epitome of innocence.
luke furrows his eyebrows, shrugging. “probably almost midnight. why?”
you wince, already stepping back. “i need a good nights rest actually. sorry, babe.”
“what?” luke watches you step back, worry in his eyes that you actually meant it. he doesn’t notice the humor on your face and the way you’re taking tiny, noncommittal steps.
“yeah. ‘m really sorry, luke. but i’ll see you tomorrow, ‘kay?” you can’t hide your smile at this point, and luke rolls his eyes just as he wraps his hand around your wrist.
he pulls you close to him, pushing your back into a nearby tree as he mumbles something about your behavior under your giggles. something along the lines of you being a “fucking brat”.
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dollyhao · 16 days
Text
gf!ellie with a oral fixation (sweet midnight sex)
you and ellie lay on your bed late at night getting ready to go to sleep. she's watching tv and your strolling through your phone while ellie starts to dose off. she shifts her body to lay her head against your chest. you pay her no mind because this is her little habit.
she fiddles with your tank top and gazes sleepily at the revealed skin of your breast. she tugs at the top of your shirt. "can i?" she mumbles as gazing up at you. you glance down at her seeing her droopy eyes plead with you as she slowly pulls your shirt down.
you nod at her, "but not too hard els. im sleepy." you say turning on your side to face her.
when ellie first told you about her oral fixation you were kinda confused. you knew she enjoyed putting stuff in her mouth but you didn't think it had a name. when she explained that thats why she liked having your nipple in her mouth so much without it being sexual all the time, you understood. so being the amazing girlfriend you are you let her whenever she asks.
she pulls your shirt up over your breast and takes them both in her hands massaging them softly. she kisses around your nipple before taking one in her mouth. she wraps her lips around it but doesn't suck wrapping her arms around your waist, pressing your body closer to hers.
you readjust yourself trying not to think too hard about the warmth of her mouth wrapped around you. it always takes you a minute to adjust to the feeling but it gets frustrating when her tongue flicks over your nipple. you let it go because this is what ellie says she needs.
you start to doze off when you feel ellie start to suck harder, her teeth grazing your nipple as she runs her tongue over it. her grip on you tightens her hand that's on your back trails down your thigh; lifting it over her hips. you glance down at her to see her eyes looking up at you. her fingers trail up her leg, grasping on your ass under your oversized shirt.
"ellie," you mumble brushing her hair out her face, "what are you doing?" ellie lets go of your nipple with a wet pop, "i dont know..." she says honestly. "i-i thought this was supposed to be innocent," you squirm as her hands creeps lower to your covered cunt, stroking your pussy with her middle finger.
"i know, im sorry." she rolls you over laying you on your back. "can i keep going?" she whispers to you softly as she sit in between your legs. you look over at the clock on your nightstand seeing that its 2 in the morning. you nod at her and she trails the kisses down your stomach to your underwear, pulling them down.
"i thought this was supposed to be innocent." ellie mocks your earlier statement as she sees how wet you are. "how was i supposed to keep it innocent with you sucking and rubbing on me, asshole." you say jokingly shoving her shoulder. ellie slips a finger into you kissing your lips again. its slow and sensual as she runs her tongue over your top lip.
your arms wrap around her neck as she fucks against your sweet spot. "mhmm~, more baby." ellie pulls away from your lips to look you in the eye as she adds another finger. you press your forehead against hers, panting out her name. "it feel good mama?" she asks mouth only a breath away from yours. "yess, faster els." you beg her. "ask nicely." ellie smirks bending her head to kiss your neck.
you run your hands through her hair, "please, baby?" you arch your back into her and and she slide her hand over your arch, pulling you flush against her. she does what you asked speeding up her thrust and you let go on her fingers. you come down from your high glancing over at ellie, who settled at your side, giving you a innocent look.
"you feel better?" you tease her. she nods settling next to your exposed chest. "absolutely not." you pull your shirt back down throwing your arm over her and laying on her chest, patting her shoulder. “go to sleep els.”
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pucksandpower · 20 days
Text
Lullaby
Max Verstappen x Reader
Summary: in which Max is the only lullaby you’ll ever need
Warnings: 18+ content
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You stare up at the ceiling, wide awake. The numbers on the alarm clock seem to taunt you, the minutes ticking by as you struggle in vain to fall asleep.
It’s nearly 1 am and Max still isn’t home.
With a sigh, you roll over and bury your face in his pillow, breathing in his familiar scent.
It’s not the same.
Your body craves his warmth, the protective circle of his arms. Sleep just won’t come without him here.
You’ve always been this way, for as long as you can remember. A perpetual insomniac, tossing and turning through the lonely nights.
That is, until you met Max.
The first night you spent together, you were astonished to find yourself drifting off within minutes of being wrapped in his strong embrace. It was like magic. Now, months later, the spell hasn’t broken. Max has become a necessity, not just for your heart but also for your health.
The sound of the front door opening stirs you from your restless thoughts. Muted footsteps make their way to the bedroom and you feel the mattress dip down.
“Hey,” Max whispers, his hand grazing your shoulder. “Sorry I’m so late, the meeting ran long. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting up.”
You roll over to face him, drinking in the sight of his tousled hair and tired eyes. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re here.”
He offers you a soft smile, the one he saves only for these quiet intimate moments, and your heart skips. No matter how many times you see it, that smile never fails to make you melt.
“Let me just wash up and I’ll be right there, okay?” He squeezes your hand gently before disappearing into the bathroom.
You listen to the familiar sounds of him getting ready for bed, a ritual you know by heart. The splash of water, the electric hum of his toothbrush, the soft thud of his clothes hitting the hamper.
When he emerges in just his boxers, you lift up the covers in silent invitation. He slides in behind you and tucks your body against his chest, legs tangled together.
You fit so perfectly, two puzzle pieces made for each other.
His arms wrap around you like bands of steel and you feel yourself begin to relax into him. Here, cradled against him with your legs interlocked, is the only place you’ve ever found true peace.
Max brushes his lips over your hair. “Did you miss me?” He murmurs.
You smile into the darkness. “You know I did.”
“I missed you too, schatje.” His voice is husky with fatigue. “I’m exhausted but I had to get back to take care of my girl.”
You snuggle deeper into his embrace. “My hero.”
He chuckles, low and warm like honey flowing over you.
You talk softly as you both unwind from the day, voices hushed in the intimacy of the night. He tells you about the team debrief that ran late and you fill him in on the book you started today, trading thoughts and details as the fuzziness of sleep starts to seep into the she of your consciousness.
Eventually conversation tapers off, words replaced by contented silence. Max’s breathing deepens and you know he’s nearing slumber. But your mind still buzzes, body fighting against its own weariness.
You shift restlessly and Max instantly tightens his hold. “Shh I’ve got you,” he soothes. “Just try to relax.”
One large hand begins massaging gentle circles on your back and you focus on its hypnotic motion, on the sensation of his calloused fingers tracing delicate shapes.
He starts humming softly, a nameless tune that fills you with wistful melancholy. You’ve never asked where he learned it. It belongs to these fragile midnight moments, when he coaxes you to stillness with his voice and touch.
Between the comfort of his embrace and the lullaby reverberations rumbling through his chest, you finally feel sleep approaching. Your thoughts drift away until only the present remains — Max surrounding you, his warmth, his scent, the combined rhythm of your heartbeats.
Just as your heavy eyelids begin to close, Max shifts suddenly and cages you beneath him. You gasp as he presses urgent kisses under your jaw, nipping at the sensitive skin.
“Max!” You squirm half-heartedly. “I was almost asleep.”
“Not quite yet, schatje. We’re not done.” His voice is gravelly with arousal that makes your belly swoop. “I need you.”
He kisses you deeply until you’re clinging to him, nails digging into the flexing muscles of his back. This man unravels you with barely a touch, your body open and pliant to him like a flower turns to the sun.
When he enters you it feels like coming home. You let out a shaky exhale, overwhelmed by the perfection of his body joining yours. This connection, this wholeness, is all you’ve ever wanted.
Max sets a slow, deep rhythm. His eyes blaze into you, grey flickering with lust and love and possession. “You’re mine,” he rasps, thrusting harder. “This is right where you belong. Under me, surrounding me, taking all of me.”
“Yes, yes I’m yours,” you gasp. The slide and drag of your bodies is maddening, tension coiling at the base of your spine.
Max grips your thigh, hooking it over his hip to drive himself deeper. “No one else gets to have you like this. You only come apart for me. I’m the only one who gets to feel you shatter.”
You cry out as he hits that perfect spot inside, stars bursting behind your eyelids. “Max, please …”
He crushes you closer, thin control fraying. “Please what? Tell me. I’ll give you anything you need.”
A particularly deep thrust wrings a wanton moan from you. You’re so close now, balanced on a knife’s edge of bliss. “Just you,” you manage to say. “I just need you.”
Max smiles, satisfied. “That’s my girl.” Then his lips slant over yours, swallowing your sobs of pleasure as his hips piston faster. The tension crests, higher and higher, until finally it breaks and you’re swept away on waves of dizzying ecstasy.
Max tenses and follows you over with a rough groan, your name a prayer on his lips. He collapses heavily against you, breath coming in harsh pants.
For long moments you just cling together, fingerprints bruising, heartbeats thundering through one another.
Eventually Max stirs, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. But he doesn’t separate your bodies. He knows you’ll rest easier staying connected, so he simply shifts just enough to take some of his weight off you.
You let out a small sigh of contentment, his warmth seeping into every inch of you like a blanket. Utterly spent and sated, you quickly begin drifting off. But before sleep claims you, Max’s quiet voice cuts through the haze.
“I’ll always come back to you. Every night, just like this. You’re my home.”
His words wrap around your heart, a vow and a lullaby in one. You manage to murmur a quiet “love you” before finally succumbing to sleep, safe in the harbor of his arms.
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unorthodoxfaithxx · 3 months
Text
Yandere Ghost Smut
afab reader ; nsfw
“This house is totally perfect! You’ll love it,” is what your realtor told you when they finally found a house within your budget. You loved the aesthetics of historical homes, so when they discovered an older house that not only was in your price range, but had just minor damages, they called you immediately. 
You moved in within the month. It didn’t take long to settle into your new home. There was a room with shelves meant for books, and you spent most of your free time there, enjoying the books from your collection that could rival a library. Sometimes, you would feel a sudden chill in the air when reading, and grow pensive. It would feel like someone was watching you. But besides that, nothing was out of the ordinary. You just assumed you were too stressed out and growing paranoid as a result. Everything was fine.
Well, it was. Until you started waking up with strange markings on your body. You woke up one day in a cold sweat, waltzing into the bathroom to wash your face off, only to find what looked like hickeys on your neck and upper chest area. Weird. Did you have bugs in the bed? Was it an allergic reaction to the new detergent you bought for the sheets? You had no idea. 
You were never able to solve the issue because the markings disappeared within a few hours, and didn’t come back again. Once more, you shrugged it off and assumed nothing was amiss. 
Yet eventually, things got even stranger. Your panties started disappearing one-by-one, and you were sure you hadn’t misplaced them. Specifically, your already worn undergarments would disappear from the dirty laundry bin before you could wash them. What the fuck?
“I don’t know, Mary,” you call your best friend one afternoon, “I feel like this place is haunted. And what’s even weirder is I keep getting these wet dreams…like every night. I’m not even sexually frustrated so I don’t know why I wake up wet or with markings on myself.”
“Maybe you got a ghost fucking ya?” She jokes around and you both get a laugh out of that. But for some reason, the deepest part of your being can’t dismiss that thought. 
You begin to grow paranoid and start searching for any signs in your house that someone else is living with you. You decide to enter the dusty attic, and find rather antique furniture and a box containing a photo of a man and a woman. He was handsome, albeit a little creepy looking, but what struck you as odd was woman next to him. She looked eerily like you. You brought the photos downstairs to do some research on your computer, but alas, found no information on the man or the woman. The only thing you found out was that there was a fire that had damaged the property all too many years ago. You felt the creepy sensation of being watched again, and called it quits for the night, opting to get some much needed rest.
That night, you saw him.
————————————————————
It’s midnight when he appears in your room, watching your beautiful self slumber. You were so perfect, all those years ago when you left him, and even now. He loves the way the sheets drape your body, but slowly peels them off to reveal that you’re in nothing but a bra and panties. There is a slight sheen of sweat on your skin as your eyebrows furrow cutely in your sleep. 
His angel must be having a nightmare, but he can take care of that. Gently, he trails his cold fingers over your curves. He admires your beauty, so happy to see you once more. He can’t wait another minute.
While you’re still on your side, he unclasps your bra, relishing the way your tits fall free without the support. They look so beautiful and perfect, he can’t even begin to describe how enchanted you make him feel. 
You roll onto your back. He slides your underwear to the side, revealing your pretty cunt to his ghostly eyes. With a delicate touch, he rubs your clit in small circles, playing with you. 
You gasp at the touch and he smirks. Your shuffling does little to deter him from his objective.
He’s on the bed with you, intently staring at your lower half. He admires your folds and moves them open and closed with his fingers, revealing a leaking hole that was your wetness. With a gulp, he slides your underwear off you, wadding it into a ball, burying his face into it as he takes a whiff of your scent. He’d be tasting the real thing soon enough. Once satisfied, he pockets your undies for safe keeping. He tilts his head down to your lower body, shifting into a more comfortable position. With a breath of anticipation, he slithers his cold tongue over your vagina, moaning slightly at the sensation. 
He’s been doing this every night he could manifest, and it never got tiring.
This time, and he doesn’t know why, you wake up, staring down at the mysterious man in terror as he laps you up like a man thirsting in the desert. You mean to run but you can’t move. You feel something cold and wet tying your body to the bed. You try to close your legs from your violator, but his icu hands grip firmly on your thighs, keeping them wide open for him to shove his face between. 
Under the moonlight, the two of you make eye contact but he doesn’t stop, instead opting to send you a wicked smile. “Good morning, love,” he says gently from beneath you. “I missed you so, so much. You know that?”
You’re in a state of shock, words screaming in your head but not quite reaching your vocal chords. The only sound you can make is a whimper as he shoves his tongue further into you, his nose rubbing you causing further pleasurable friction. He sucks, licks, and rolls your clit with his tongue. 
Suddenly, he slides a cold finger into your hole and you gasp, arching your back only to be stuck back down again. “Don’t move, pretty thing,” he scolds you. 
“F-fuck,” you finally manage to whisper, heart racing, “Who are you?”
“Someone who’s been watching you for a very, very long time.” He’s stopped licking you, instead moving to pump another finger into your pretty cunt, thrusting in and out at a moderate pace. His eyes show so much love, desperation, and lust in them that you have no idea what to do or where to go. Then it clicks. The man from the photo. That’s who he was. How could that be possible? Was he an actual ghost?
“I’ve been so lonely without you, princess. When you left me to burn, do you know how heartbroken I was? But now you’re back, and we can finally be together again. I’m not letting you leave me another time.”
He now has three fingers inside of you, picking up the pace. The lewd sound of slick fingers sliding in and out of your cunt drives him wild. His face is back between your thighs again, lapping you up and suckling on you until you’re visibly shaking. 
“Aw, sweet girl. Gonna cum?”
You don’t want to, but you feel something hot and heavy coming.
“Shit. Cum in my mouth, sweetheart. Wanna taste everything you got.” He latches back onto you. 
Your stomach drops and you let go, mind very distressed but body obviously in heaven. Your pussy spazzes out on him and he moans as he licks up the mess you leave behind. With a wipe of his mouth he grins, eying you like a rare prize he had just one at the fair.
He grabs onto you, embracing you in a hug you can’t run away from. Seriously, why can’t you move? He notices your struggles and laughs, snuggling into your chest. 
“Ah ah ah, no running away, love. I’ve waited so long for you. You’re not going anywhere.”
He flips you to where you’re face down, ass up. Your vagina is dripping, juices sliding down your thigh. He licks his lips before biting his lower one, admiring the roundness of your ass and your now puffy and pink pussy. 
“Oh, love. You got no idea what you do to me…”
You feel something cold and hard tap the entrance of your walls, and you freeze. Oh god, was he going to fuck you? His hands are on the sides of your ass, but you feel another set of cold hands grabbing your arms, and even another pulling at your tits. You whimper at the overstimulation.
“Enjoy the hands. They’re all me.”
Before you can reply, he’s sliding his dick through your entrance. Your pussy quivers at the sensation and he laughs. “Did you just come from that, love?”
Once you take all of him, he leans forward to whisper in your ear. “I want to hear you moan, sweetheart. Go on, make some noise for me.”
As he’s taking you from behind, a hand shoves its fingers into your mouth, and you gag on it. The sets of hands on your breasts are now fondling them, pinching and squeezing. You’ve never felt so much at once before, and you eventually yield to the pleasure, moaning as he thrusts into you.
“That’s it, baby. Take it. Take it all. You’re fucking mine,” He snarls, and you whine at how hard he’s pounding into you, ferocity now evident in his demeanor. 
You slurp and suck on the fingers, only for it to pop out of your mouth and slide into your ass instead. You cry out at the sensation. A hand is sliding circles around your clit as he fucks you, sending waves of pleasure over your body you’ve never known before. 
“Too much!” You cry, sobbing with pleasure.
He gives you a kiss on the neck. “Almost done, love. Just keep taking it, okay? You’re doing so good for me. God, you’re fucking perfect.” His thrusts became sporadic, and you know he’s close. 
In the end, you come once more, and you feel he does too. When he pulls out, you collapse on the bed, blacking out. Morning eventually comes, and you feel someone is holding you from behind. A set of hands grope your body as you wake up. 
“Morning, love. Ready for round two?”
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kitashousewife · 10 months
Text
“yes, rintaro?”
“hi-jesus, a warning next time would be nice,”
“you called me,” you huff, picking at the now dried mask on your face in the small reflection of the facetime. “what do you want, rin?”
suna is outside, walking rather quickly as the background is blurred around him. he lets out an airy laugh before looking at the screen.
“i’m drunk;” he smirks, continuing to walk but tripping a little, shaking the camera. you raise your eyebrows at him to continue. he sniffs. “and i’m coming over.”
“is your house broken or something?”
he giggles, then shakes his head. “nah, yours is closer though.”
you sigh and accept defeat. you knew your best friend was in the neighborhood from his social media posts, so it’s no surprise he’s deciding to drop in. it’s late though, well past midnight. you shuffle into your bathroom to rinse off the mask, setting your phone on the counter.
“when will you be here?”
he clears his throat and swallows. “i’m walking up the stairs, so 2 min-fuck-minutes,” he trips up the steps and groans.
“what? okay give me a minute, i’ll be right there,” you wash off your mask quickly and run to the door, realizing too late as you slide on your socked feet that you’re only in a t shirt, suna’s t shirt. you open the door to find a very intoxicated suna, leaning against your with heavy eyes and a smile, which turns to a frown when he sees you.
“hey, that’s mine,” he taps the collar of your shirt before pushing past you, slipping off his shoes and throwing his coat on the floor.
“you reek, rin. god, where were you?”
he smirks. now making himself comfy on the couch despite your protesting glares.
“the club a few blocks away, it was packed and-“ he hiccups. “y-yeah it was just busy. aran was there,”
“don’t fall asleep on my couch,” you tap his leg as you walk past, tidying up a little. he opens his eyes and sits up, slumped into the cushions. “how do you feel?”
suna doesn’t answer. he scrolls on his phone at full volume, completely ignoring you while chuckling at the different videos he comes across.
one of the worst things about your best friend was how stubborn he is normally, but that stubbornness triples when he’s had enough to drink.
you stand in front of him with your arms crossed for a few more seconds before you clear your throat. he finally looks up and waves.
“rin, why don’t you-“
“so yeah, aran was there and-“ he laughs at something on his phone, losing his train of thought.
“how about you take a shower?”
“no,” he pouts again. “why don’t you take a shower?”
you huff. “i’m calling aran to get y-“
“i think i’m going to take a shower,” he grunts, standing up and following you to the bathroom while you grab towels for him. when you finish turning the water, he begins to lift up his shirt.
“uh-uh,” you laugh to yourself and slip out the door, pulling it shut. “you can do that in private. take your time, i’m going to bed.”
“but what if i wanted you to see?”
you stutter. “y-you’re drunk, rin. just shower, please.”
you hear him clamber into the shower soon after and retreat to your bed. as you settle in, suna’s comment continues to nag at you. sure, he jokes around and has his fun with you. but in the many years being his best friend, he’s never made any sort of effort to make a move on you.
you feel dizzy, suddenly picturing suna in a way you had never before. it felt like jumping off the high dive and into water all at once.
“what am i supposed to wear?” a very wet suna waltzes into your room with a towel on his waist, and you wish you could jump into that pool right now. you can’t take your eyes off his torso, eyeing the defined muscle as they flex with every step.
“there’s s-some of your clothes here from last time, they’re clean i just forgot to give them to you,” you jump out of bed and rummage through your closet before handing him his belongings.
“oh cool,” he walks back to the bathroom, bumping into the wall on the way. you slink back to bed without another word.
just as you’re drifting off to sleep, your mattress dips.
“hi,” suna breathes, getting under your covers with you.
“what are you doing?” you hiss, voice a whisper. he stares back at you with an irritated look.
“painting a picture, what does it look like? i’m going to bed,” he huffs, pulling your covers over him and leaving your legs exposed to the cold air.
“rintaro,” you pull the covers back over you and he groans. “i don’t want to hear it! if you’re going to sleep in my bed at least share.”
he remains quiet, making himself comfortable on the other side of the bed. meanwhile, your heart is racing and your mind is fighting between being bothered and pining over your best friend.
“did you use my shampoo?”
“of course i did,” suna’s voice is tired as he finally settles in. “the extra stuff you gave me sucks. and you smell good so thought i’d use it,”
your heart skips a beat. you don’t say anything, though.
your eyes get a little heavy, mind finally relaxing as the heavy sounds of suna’s breathing lull you to sleep.
the next morning you wake up next to your best friend, blinking a few times before you get a good look at him. he’s resting against the pillow, your blanket pulled up to his bare chest while he scrolls on his phone.
“good morning rin,” you mumble, yawning and sitting up. “did you sleep okay? are you feeling today today?”
“slept great,” he mumbles, eyes not leaving his screen. “i feel okay. head hurts,”
you nod, handing him your water bottle and an aspirin from your bedside table which he happily takes.
“thanks for letting me stay here by he way,”
“of course,” you watch as he sits up, blankets falling to his hips and showcasing his muscles once more.
“i feel bad that you had to deal with me,” he looks you in your eyes and for some reason, it feels different from normal. you shrug.
“i don’t mind.”
he smirks and gets comfortable once more, but begins typing on his phone with a giggle.
“what’s so funny?”
“nothing,” he smirks at the screen. “i just told aran we slept together, though.
“rintaro!”
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evie-sturns · 3 months
Text
ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ - ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ
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summary: you're staying at your best friend's house, the sturniolos, for the weekend, until one night you can't sleep, so you decide to go for a dip in the hot tub.. but matt's already there.
contains: smut, virgin!matt, teasing, hot tub sex, semi-public?
----------------------∘°∘♡∘°∘∘ ∘°∘♡∘°∘--------------------
i roll over in bed, the clock on the wall reads, 11:57pm. i've been lying here for 3 hours with my eyes shut, but im too energised, i mean, the sturniolos and i have had a crazy few days, resulting in me staying the weekend.
i hoist myself up out of bed, flicking on the lamp as i dig through my tote bag for a small bikini, afterall its almost midnight, none of them would be in the hot tub at this time.
i open my bedroom door, tiptoeing past chris, nick and matts room down the stairs.
i creak open the backdoor, stepping out into the icy air which hits my barely covered body. i turn the corner to the hottub,
matt's sitting inside, his head tilted back, his eyes shut.
hes shirtless, wearing nothing but swim shorts. he doesnt notice me yet, but im just kind of.. admiring him?
the way he looks tonight is just different, ive known him for a few years but ive never felt like this towards him.
"matt?" i ask softly, being careful not startle him.
his eyes open slowly, looking up at me.
his cheeks instantly flush red, he opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. "can i come.. in?" i ask, my eyebrows furrowing as matt just looks me up and down.
he quickly runs a hand through his hair before nodding "yeah yeah!" he says frantically.
i climb in next to him, matt just looks straight ahead. "are you alright?" i ask, adjusting the strap to my bikini top.
-
we've been talking and laughing for about 15 minutes, matt's still been nervous.
"and my friend, lana, she went for a job interview and came out of it with the job all because she blowed the manager off" i laugh, my straps accidentally slipping down again teasingly.
matt looks down at his lap before shifting uncomfortably, he clears his throat. my eyes dart down, its hard to see through the water, but matts got an obvious tent in his shorts.
"im sorry.." matt mumbles out in a whisper.
"why do ya think thats happened?" i ask casually, my hand dipping underwater and grazing his thigh.
matt stays silent, he looks horrified with himself.
"im so sorry just give me five minutes in the bathroom i can come right back-" matt rambles but i cut him off but straddling his lap.
matts breath hitches in his throat "oh-"
"do you think you got hard from.. me?" i say seductively, looking down at him.
"i'm sorry." matt says, his eyes fixated on my chest.
"was it from.. these straps?" i say, pulling down the straps on my bikini.
matt nods nervously,
"you can take them off if you want, i mean we are alone." i whisper.
matt reaches his hand out from the hot water, pulling off my bikini top, his tongue slides out of his mouth to dampen his lips as his cheeks go a dark red.
"why are you so scared matt, its not like youve never seen tits before" i joke, but matt tenses under me.
"matt..?" i say, dragging out the 'a'.
"uh.. i'm a virgin so.." matt says, his voice barely audible.
my eyebrows raise, a silence fills the night air.
"i know, we don't have to do anything.. i dont want to make you.. teach me?" matt rambles again, i cup his cheeks and pull him into a gentle kiss, shutting him up.
"you ramble when you're nervous.." i say, toying with the strings of his shorts, i get off his lap and sit next to him. the water is still and clear, illuminated by a blue led light.
i tug at the waistband of his shorts, revealing a small section of his base.
"oh fuck." matt quietly whimpers out.
“i’ll take it gently okay?” i assure him before pulling down his swim shorts,
i never knew matt was this big.
my cheeks flush as i climb back onto his lap, sitting just on his thighs as his dick rests on my stomach. i put my hands on matt’s damp shoulders before hovering just above his tip.
“please..” matt says, his voice hoarse
“please what?” i tease, pulling off my small bikini bottoms and discarding them somewhere in the water.
matt grips my waist, his hands firm against my skin. “please ride me..” matt says, clearly embarrassed.
i slowly sink down onto him, the warm water sloshing around us. matt’s grip on my waist tightens as he lets out pathetic noises.
“you- you okay?” i ask, burying my head on his shoulder as i slowly start to bounce up and down.
“i’m-..” matt struggles to speak, i let out a soft laugh.
“you don’t have to answer now sweetheart.” i whisper into his hair, picking up the pace.
it’s only been a few minutes, but i can tell matt’s close, his fingers are digging into me so harshly i know i’ll have bruises tomorrow.
his groans fill the night air, along with small splashes coming from the water. i clench around him, “i’m so close..” i warn, the knot in my stomach snaps as i orgasm around him, i feel matt tense so i quickly pull off of him, stroking him as he paints my hands with white.
“oh my god.. fuck” matt says, squeezing his eyes shut, he reaches out a hand and grabs my shoulder for support.
i run my thumb over his already sensitive tip, earning a gentle moan from matt. i pull up his swim shorts slowly.
“shit..” matt says, his eyes peeling open slowly.
“you okay?” i ask again, tying up my bikini.
“i’m-.. really good?” matt says, rubbing his eyes.
-
after a few minutes of talking and joking around, i stand up, climbing out of the hot tub onto the cold deck.
“same time tomorrow?” i smile jokingly back at matt.
----------------------∘°∘♡∘°∘∘ ∘°∘♡∘°∘--------------------
was a full task to bring myself to finish this 😭😭 hope y’all like it though
I also genuinely can’t tell if it chris or matt in the first picture by the title, but you get the point
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punkshort · 4 months
Text
i'll be home for christmas | part two
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.
Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, very soft!joel, flirting, kissing, hallmark movie tropes up the wazoo, mentions of infidelity, mentions of divorce, reader's sister is pregnant, hurt/comfort, explicit smut (18+MDNI), (somewhat) unproteced piv sex, angst (but you know there will be a happy ending, this is Hallmark, after all)
WC: 12K
A/N: I am so overwhelmed at the response I received for part one. No contest, it's my most successful story to date, and I can't thank you all enough ❤️ I really hope you enjoy this part just as much. Please read the warnings, this has some (very sweet and soft) smut at the end, so if it isn't your thing, feel free to skip it.
Series Masterlist
Joel sat in his truck, the engine long cooled down by now, as he stared blankly at his garage door, waiting for the stupid grin to leave his face before he went inside to face his brother. But he had been sitting there for almost twenty minutes, and he was still smiling behind the back of his hand.
That date with you was perfect. Well, he could have done without getting knocked on his ass by some kid, but it worked out for him in the end, so he didn't mind.
Goddamn, did you make him feel good. There was no way he would be able to sleep that night, he was sure of it. Not after the way you looked at him, touched him, kissed him. A big part of him wondered for a long time if he would spend the rest of his life alone, believing that lightning doesn't strike twice, that he would never find anyone who would look at him and want him the way you did.
He ignored the nagging voice in the back of his head that reminded him you didn't live there, that you would be going back to New York in a couple short weeks. He couldn't let that bring him down just yet, that was a problem for another day. Right now, his only problem was resisting the urge to drive back to your house and scoop you up in his arms so he could make you feel as good as he felt.
It was close to midnight, so he caved and went inside, hoping his brother would be too groggy to interrogate him. When he walked in and saw Tommy and Sarah lounging on the couch, wide awake and watching some action flick, his face fell.
"Hey, it is way past your bedtime, the hell are you doin'?" Joel scolded, sliding off his boots.
"Dad, c'mon, it's the weekend," Sarah whined.
"Don't care, you know the rules," he told her, trying to sound firm, but he had such a soft spot for her that he never succeeded in sounding threatening.
"But it's a special occasion, I wanted to hear how your date went," she grinned, sitting up and wiggling her eyebrows. Joel's jaw dropped and shot a glare at his brother while stretching his arms out at his side in disbelief.
"Oh, come on, she practically dragged it outta me," Tommy smirked.
"Unbelievable," Joel muttered, collapsing on the end of the couch and rubbing his eyes.
"So?" Sarah pushed, tucking her legs underneath her excitedly.
"I ain't talkin' about this with you," he said, biting his cheek as he stared at the TV.
"Why not?" she pouted, but Joel just shook his head.
"Go brush your teeth," he said.
"Fine," she replied, rolling her eyes as she made her way to the stairs. "But I'll get it out of you one day."
She stomped upstairs and it wasn't until Joel heard the water running that he turned to his brother.
"What the hell, Tommy? You know I didn't want her knowin' about that," he said, exasperated.
"Oh, relax," Tommy said, stretching his arms above his head. "She's sixteen, Joel. She's smart. She figured it out herself, I just confirmed it after gettin' the third degree."
Joel sighed and tipped his head back onto the sofa, closing his eyes.
"Christ," he muttered.
"What's the big deal?"
Joel sat up and opened his eyes.
"Big deal is, she lives in New York. There's no future there, we were just hangin' out, and I don't need Sarah gettin' her hopes up," Joel explained, trying to downplay his feelings, but his chest squeezed at the thought of you leaving one day.
"Ever hear of long distance?" Tommy asked, raising an eyebrow.
"That never works," Joel replied, shaking his head.
"Well, maybe you should make it work," he said, sitting up and muting the TV. "You know, Sarah just wants you to be happy, Joel. We both do," Tommy said somberly. "Told me tonight she's worried about you bein' all alone when she goes off to college."
"I'll be alright," he said gruffly, although the same thought was plaguing his mind recently, as well.
Tommy stared at his brother a moment as Joel watched the TV, pretending to follow the story even though there was no audio. He decided to drop it for now and changed the subject.
"So, you gonna tell me how it went or what?"
Joel bit his lower lip, trying to keep himself from smiling, but he failed. Tommy noticed right away and grinned, leaning forward to tap his knee.
"I know that look," he said, still grinning.
"Yeah, alright," Joel finally said with a smile. "It was great. Really fuckin' great."
"Hell yeah!" Tommy yelled, and Joel immediately shushed him, pointing upstairs.
"She's funny and she's sweet, we had a real nice time," Joel said, his grin permanently etched on his face now.
"I figured it went well since you got home so late," Tommy replied with a wink.
"I ain't gonna sleep with her on the first date," he whispered, just in case Sarah was listening. He settled back into the couch as Tommy turned the TV volume back on, letting the movie play for a minute before adding, "She's a good kisser, though."
"Oh, I can't wait to meet this girl," Tommy chuckled with a shake of his head. "Haven't seen you smile this much in years."
"Yeah, well," Joel replied noncommittally, still smiling like an idiot and staring at the TV. He decided to stay downstairs that night, finishing the movie and then starting another one on the couch long after Tommy left, unable to quiet down his mind long enough to fall asleep until nearly three in the morning.
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You woke up the next day, stretching your arms above your head with a big yawn, not ready to get out of bed yet but the voices downstairs told you it must have been late. With a groan, you reached over and snatched your phone off the charger. When you saw you had a text waiting for you, your heart skipped a beat until you read Sydney's name and not Joel's. Your eyes flicked to the top of the screen, noting it was close to ten in the morning, before sliding open the text.
Sydney: sorry forgot to reply yesterday. I saw will at black & blue, he was hammered and falling all over the place
You scowled, not interested in whatever your ex was up to, so you replied with just the thumbs up emoji and set your phone back down.
Staring at the ceiling, you dreamily thought about your date with Joel. God, he really took you by surprise. You were proud of yourself for taking that first big step forward and putting yourself out there again, but you had no idea it would feel like this. You weren't even sure you ever felt like this with Will. Even when things were good, Will never treated you the way Joel did last night. He was so earnest and respectful, opening doors for you and actually listening to you talk about work. And he didn't even try to feel you up, either, although you probably wouldn't have minded. Maybe it was those Southern manners you were missing this whole time.
With a groan, you dropped your phone back on the nightstand and swung your legs over the edge of your bed, wrapping yourself in your robe, still not expecting it to be so cold in Texas. Even though it was December, it was unusual.
You made your way into the kitchen and made a beeline for the coffee, tossing a wave in the direction of your parents sitting with your sister and brother in law in the living room.
"She lives!" Cassie exclaimed with a smug look on her face. You held your mug up to your lips and blew on the liquid, frowning when the whole family was looking at you with matching, goofy smirks.
"Why are you all looking at me like that?"
"Like what?" your mom asked innocently. You squinted at her as you sat down, not buying it.
"How was your date?" your sister asked. You took a sip of coffee before replying.
"Good," you said simply, nodding your head. Your mom and dad exchanged a look and you frowned again, getting annoyed.
"What?" you asked loudly.
"Nothing!" your dad said, looking back down at his newspaper. Who even still gets the newspaper delivered anymore, anyway?
"Josh, what's going on?" you asked your sister's husband, knowing he was the weakest link. He glanced nervously between you and Cassie.
"They saw you and Joel on the Ring camera," he blurted out, and your family all groaned in unison. Your face flushed beet red, gawking at them all in disbelief.
"Are you kidding me?" you screeched.
"We didn't mean to, Bucky. Dad was reviewing the footage because he couldn't find the newspaper this morning and, well..." your mom trailed off, trying to hide her smile.
"Oh my god," you whined, tucking your legs to your chest and hiding your face.
"Looked like the date was a little more than good," Cassie teased, and you smacked her on the leg.
"I can't believe this," you mumbled to yourself, hiding your face behind your coffee mug and praying someone would change the subject. "How much did you see?"
"Just from when he pulled in the driveway til when you went inside," your mom said with a shrug.
"That's, like, everything, Mom! Oh my god!" Your face was hot with embarrassment now.
"He looks like a good kisser, is he a good kisser?" Cassie asked.
"Shut up!" you whined, covering your face with your free hand.
"There's nothin' to be embarrassed about, he was a gentleman. Held the door open for you and everythin'," your dad murmured, and you groaned.
"Can we talk about literally anything else, please?" you begged.
"Of course!" your mom said, her eyes flicking around the room, waiting for someone to say something, but nobody spoke.
"I'm sorry, Buck, but you gotta see the the smile on his face after you went inside, it was so cute," Cassie said, pulling out her phone.
"I'm going upstairs!" you announced, jumping up from the couch.
"Wait! Are you still coming by later to help paint the nursery?"
"I don't know, are there any cameras there?" you shouted over your shoulder as your climbed the stairs with your coffee to hide in the sanctity of the guest bedroom.
"Well, no. Only because I haven't set the baby monitor up yet," Cassie called back and giggled when she heard you slam your door.
Grumbling to yourself, you flopped back into bed and picked up your phone, looking for a distraction from your embarrassment. You quickly found one when you saw you had a missed text from Joel.
Joel Miller: Question for you - when is the earliest you should text someone without looking too pathetic after you've had the best date of your life?
You grinned as you typed out a response.
You: answer - whatever time you sent this text :)
Joel Miller: Oh, good. Thought I scared you off, sent that about ten minutes ago.
You: sorry, I was downstairs talking to my family, forgot to bring my phone. And I don't think you could ever scare me off
You almost told him about the doorbell camera fiasco, but decided against it. Picking up your mug, you tried not to stare too hard at your phone as you waited for a reply.
Joel Miller: What are you doing later?
Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing him again so soon, then quickly stopped yourself, remembering your promise to your sister.
You: I told my sister I would help paint the nursery...
Joel Miller: That's a shame. I was hoping you could teach me something again.
You: oh? lol
Joel Miller: I just realized how that sounded - I meant wrapping Christmas presents for Sarah. I'm awful at it and I have another hunch gift wrapping is a secret talent of yours.
You giggled and rolled over in bed, your embarrassment long forgotten now.
You: you might be right... how about tomorrow?
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Joel took the porch steps two at a time, eager to see you again and it hadn't even been a full two days. His finger barely pressed the doorbell when he heard your voice call out I got it! and the door swung open. You smiled up at him, your eyes lighting up before dropping your gaze to his mouth.
"Hi," you said breathlessly.
"Hey," he replied, swallowing roughly.
"Have a nice time, Bucky!" your mom's voice rang out somewhere behind you as you shut the door quickly. Joel grinned, his gaze drifting from your eyes to your mouth before leaning in. You put your hand on his chest and tilted your head back before grabbing his hand and leading him to his truck. Confused, he followed behind and tried not to stare too long at the way your jeans perfectly hugged your ass.
You led him to the passenger side of the truck, but when he reached out to open the door, you snaked your hand up to wrap around the back of his neck, pulling his face down for a searing kiss only when you were sure you were hidden from view.
"Would I sound crazy if I said I missed you?" you whispered.
"No," Joel replied, shaking his head and trying to calm his pounding heart. "Couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you."
"Me, too," you admitted softly, gazing up at him with your beautiful eyes all wide and burning with desire.
He cradled your face in his calloused hand, the other flattened firmly against the truck door behind you as he stared into your eyes, fighting the urge to pick you up and wrap your legs around his waist so he could pin you against his truck and let you feel just how badly he missed you.
Then, you heard your dad's SUV unlock and your eyes widened in panic.
"Shit," you muttered. "We should go. I think they're heading out."
"Alright, maybe I should say 'hi' real quick," he said, pushing himself off the truck and letting his hand drop from your face.
"No! That's okay, we'll be stuck here forever if you do," you said hurriedly. He gave you a curious smile but agreed before opening the door for you and hopping into the driver's seat.
He waited until he backed out of the driveway and was heading down your street before shooting you a sideways glance.
"Everythin' okay?"
You sighed and rubbed your palms over your face before clearing your throat.
"So, remember the other night on the porch, after you dropped me off?"
He smirked and nodded.
"Yeah, I think I remember," he teased.
"Well," you began. "My family saw us on the doorbell camera the next morning," you cringed.
He laughed, throwing his head back just a bit so he could still keep an eye on the road, and shook his head.
"Oh, I hate those fuckin' things," he said, but he was still laughing.
You grinned, your nerves and unease dissipating quickly.
"You're not embarrassed?"
"Nah," he said with a shrug, then turned his head briefly to look at you. "I'm sure we put on a good show."
You giggled, your cheeks tinting pink, and turned your head to look out the window.
"Alright," he said after a minute. "I've waited long enough and I gotta ask."
You swiveled back towards him, waiting for him to continue.
"What's the story with the nickname?"
You groaned and squeezed your eyes shut.
"It's so unbelievably stupid," you said, but he shook his head.
"Well, now you gotta tell me."
"Fine," you said, rolling your eyes, but your playful smile gave you away.
"It's Buck, or Bucky. Short for Bucket," you began.
"Bucket?" he repeated, bewildered.
"I warned you it was stupid!" you protested, and he chuckled. "Anyway, when I was little, my sister and her friends had a sleepover one time, and I overheard them swearing."
"Okay," Joel said slowly, nodding along while he kept his eyes pinned to the road.
"I always looked up to my sister, I was like her shadow when I was younger. So, when I heard them swearing, I wanted to be like them, too, you know?"
"Yeah, I follow," he replied, still not sure how the story related to your nickname.
"Well, thing is, I misheard them. They were saying 'fuck it', but I heard 'bucket'," you explained. "So I went to school and, thinking I sounded cool, I would say 'bucket' to all my friends. We were little, they had no idea what I was talking about, so I explained to them it's a swear word. Before I knew it, I had the whole class saying 'bucket' any time someone dropped something, or got a bad grade on a test, or whatever."
Joel howled with laughter, gripping the steering wheel for dear life as he tried to make it safely into his driveway.
"The principal called my parents and told them what was happening," you continued, joining in and giggling. "They got me home, and-" you doubled over, clutching your stomach as Joel put the truck in park and slumped over the steering wheel, his body shaking as he laughed.
"And I had to tell them the whole story, about why I kept saying it and-" you wiped the tears from your eyes as you took a deep breath. "And - oh my god - my sister got grounded for two weeks-" Another fit of laughter washed over Joel, tears streaming down his face.
"Wait, wait," he gasped, unbuckling his seatbelt so he could turn to face you. "You got in trouble in school, and your sister ended up gettin' punished?"
"Yes!" you squeaked, still giggling.
"Oh, shit," he breathed, panting as he leaned the back of his head against the seat rest. "Can't believe you thought that was stupid. That's gotta be the funniest thing I heard in a long while."
"Well, I'm glad I could brighten your day," you said, still grinning.
He rolled his head back towards you, his soft gaze drifting up and down your frame quickly before stopping on your eyes.
"You really do, y'know," he said quietly, and you furrowed your brow, tilting your head in confusion.
"Brighten my day," he clarified.
You bit your lower lip and smiled, looking away as the flush began to return to your cheeks.
"Come on, charmer. Why don't we go teach you how to wrap presents?"
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You never really gave much thought as to what Joel's house would look like, but once you saw it, it immediately felt like him. It was a smaller, two bedroom house. When you first walked in, you entered a living room with a leather couch and an oversized recliner. A big screen TV was front and center across from the couch, with a few framed pictures of Joel and Sarah mounted on the wall next to it.
"You want somethin' to drink?" Joel asked, making sure to slide the coat from your shoulders before shrugging off his own.
"Maybe just water," you said, following him into the kitchen. You gasped when you saw his cupboards and immediately rushed over to them while he pulled two bottles of water from the stainless steel fridge.
"Oh my god, Joel," you whispered, running your fingers gently over the designs. Each one looked different but somehow they all were cohesive. Some had small flowers or butterflies carved into the corners, while others had simple, yet intricate designs grooved into the wood.
"Had to practice somehow," he said, feeling his cheeks flush as he walked over to hand you your water.
"God, it's so beautiful," you said breathlessly, unable to look away from the dark, stained wood. Your fingers danced over some stars etched into one of doors, your eyes wide with awe, but he was focused entirely on you. He couldn't get enough of watching the delicate features on your face light up whenever you found something new that pleased you.
"How long does this take for you to do?" you asked, finally dragging your eyes away to look up at him. Your throat tightened when you noticed the heat behind his stare, your pulse fluttering in your neck.
"Depends," he murmured. "Some are faster than others, but I prefer to go slow and take my time. Anythin' worthwhile takes time. Gotta show it respect, gotta care for it."
His low and sultry tone made your face flush, forgetting for a moment you were talking about woodworking.
"Y-yeah," you stammered, clearing your throat. Suddenly, you were feeling short of breath. "That makes sense."
He gazed down at you for another moment, his eyes slowly raking over your face as if committing it to memory before speaking again. Your entire body felt hot, and you cursed yourself for wearing such a thick sweater.
"Ready to go upstairs?" he murmured, still staring at you in a way that made your spine tingle.
"Huh?" you whispered, completely entranced by his deep, brown eyes.
"The presents?" he reminded you with a small smirk.
"Oh, right," you said, finally blinking and looking away. You shakily opened your water bottle after he turned around to lead you to the stairs, your mouth suddenly extremely dry.
As you walked up the steps, you tried to get a look at the pictures that lined the wall, but it was difficult to do without tripping. You thought you had finally gotten your head on straight after that moment in the kitchen, but when you realized he was leading you to his bedroom, you felt the tremble return to your hands.
"Sorry, had to hide everythin' in my closet, she's too nosy," he said over his shoulder.
"No problem," you squeaked, trying not to stare at his neatly made bed. Your eyes briefly drifted over the end tables filled with personal effects. You thought you saw a chapstick, a cord for a phone charger, and a worn paperback book, but you didn't want him to catch you, so you looked away quickly.
He opened his closet and you were surprised to find his clothes packed away so neatly. For a bachelor, he kept a really clean house. He pulled out the bags of gifts from the shelf above his clothes, then the wrapping paper, which was leaning against the corner.
"D'you think we got enough room?" he asked, glancing around at the floor.
"Yeah, of course," you said, sitting down crossed legged on the carpet. You reached out for the wrapping paper and rolled it out in front of you as he sat down at your side, taking out her gifts one by one. You felt yourself involuntarily clench as you watched his large hands deftly lay out each item on the floor, his muscles twitching slightly under the tanned skin of his exposed forearms.
"I know what you're thinkin'," he said, and your eyes widened in surprise. "I spoil her, I know, but she's such a good kid, I can't help myself."
That was definitely not what you were thinking, but you chose to keep that to yourself.
"I think it's sweet," you told him. "You seem like a really good dad."
Now it was his turn to blush. He tried to turn his head away so you wouldn't see, murmuring his thanks as you each picked an item to start. After a quick tutorial, which included way too much tape and ripped paper, Joel finally seemed to get the technique down. It only took until about halfway through the pile for you to muster up the courage to bring up a topic you couldn't help but be curious about.
"So," you began, hoping you came off nonchalant. "Is Sarah with her mom this Christmas, or..."
Joel's fingers fumbled for a moment with the wrapping paper, but he quickly recovered.
"Uh, no," he replied, keeping his eyes cast down on the shoe box in front of him. "She's not in Sarah's life anymore."
"Oh," you said, unable to keep the surprise from your voice, but you didn't push him any further. Your mind was scrambling, trying to think of something else to talk about, when he sighed and leaned back, abandoning the gift.
"I'm sorry, this is all so new to me, I probably should've told you about her sooner," he said, feeling guilty, but you quickly shook your head.
"No, you don't have to-"
"I want to," he said, cutting you off. You clamped your mouth shut and turned your body so you could give him your full attention, leaving the hair dryer you were wrapping on the floor next to you.
He drew a shaky breath in and looked up at the ceiling before speaking.
"There's not much to say, really. I'm still not always sure what happened," he began. You nodded, staying quiet and letting him take his time. "We were together since high school, ended up stayin' together after graduation. Sarah was a surprise, we were both still so young but we made it work. It was hard, but once me and Tommy got the business goin', it made things a bit easier."
Your fingers tangled together in your lap as you listened, refusing to say anything until he was done. His gaze drifted towards a fixed point on the wall as he continued.
"From what I gathered, she felt like havin' Sarah so young robbed her from doin' certain things in life," he said heavily. "Said she couldn't do it anymore. Didn't want her life to pass her by and be full of regret."
You bit your lip. The pain was clear as day on his face and it was making your chest ache.
"Well, anyway. I thought maybe she would go off for a couple months, do whatever it was she thought she was missin' out on. Parties, college... other men," he added the last part quietly, and you dropped your gaze to the floor. "Get it out of her system, y'know? But she just... never came back. Eventually, the calls came less and less, and I put two and two together. Didn't even get a courtesy call before I got served with the papers."
He rubbed his eyes, trying so hard not to look like a blubbering idiot in front of you. You reached your hand out and placed it gently on his knee, giving him a reassuring squeeze. He dropped his hand from his face to cover yours, staring at your coupled hands for a moment.
"Joel-"
"It was just so fuckin' hard on Sarah, y'know?" he said, his voice cracking. "I had no idea what to tell her. She cried almost every night, askin' me why her mom didn't love her anymore."
"Oh, Joel," you whispered, unable to hold back any longer. You closed the small gap between you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him into your chest, your fingers gently raking through his hair. "I'm so sorry," you told him, burying your nose in the hair on top of his head, breathing in the citrus scent from his shampoo.
He didn't say a word. He just tugged you closer and closed his eyes, leaning into your comforting touch with a deep sigh.
"I'm sorry," he finally managed to croak out. "I'm throwin' way too much at you, I know you didn't sign up for this."
"Shh," you whispered into his hair, then tilted his face up to look at you, his dark brown eyes glassy with unshed tears. "It's okay," you murmured, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. A solitary tear slipped down his cheek when he pulled back to look deep into your eyes.
"It's okay," you repeated, wiping away the tear with the pad of your thumb before placing another gentle kiss against his lips.
He hummed contently against your mouth, sliding his hand up to the back of your neck and pressing his lips more firmly against your own, scared to let you go because if he did, he was sure he would fall apart.
Your grip on his hair tightened as he leaned forward, one strong arm wrapped around your midsection and the other pressed against your back. You mumbled something against his mouth when he tried to lay you down and knocked over a small pile of DVDs.
"Fuck," he whispered and, oh god, the way he said it made your legs turn to jelly and your cheeks flare with heat.
Frustrated, he tightened his grip around you and lifted you up, refusing to break the kiss. A tiny, high pitched squeak slipped past your lips as you wrapped your legs around his hips, letting him carry you to his bed.
He laid you down carefully on top of his plush, navy striped comforter. You sighed into his mouth, your legs loosening around his waist and falling open while you dragged your hands out of his hair and down to his shoulders, wrapping your fingers around his biceps to keep him close. He hovered above you, balancing all his weight on his elbows while his fingers played with the ends of your impossibly soft hair.
He slipped his tongue easily past your lips with a low groan, the noise going straight to your core, making the ache between your legs almost painful while your tongue danced with his, the two already so familiar with each other.
You tipped your head back with a gasp, desperate for air, but he kept going, unable to stop himself. His lips brushed against your jaw before his teeth and prickly beard scraped against the sensitive skin behind your earlobe. You let out a needy whimper and arched your back at the sensation, pushing your breasts into his broad chest as goosebumps spread over your whole body.
"Oh god, Joel," you whined softly, squeezing your eyes shut.
"Yeah, baby?" he replied, his voice thick and muffled against your neck. Baby. Jesus, this man was unraveling you so fast, it was making your head spin.
"I-I know we said this was casual, but-" the words got trapped in your throat as you cut yourself off, unable to finish your thought.
"I know," he said, his voice strained. "Fuck, I know."
He lifted his head away from your neck as he stared down at you, patting your hair back and away from your face as he panted slightly for breath.
You looked up at him, eyes watering as you tried not to think about your time coming to an end in a couple short weeks. You could tell he was thinking the same but didn't want to say it, the pain behind his eyes was obvious.
He blinked a couple times, the clouds clearing as he forced himself to focus on the present. He had you here in his arms, in his bed, underneath him right now. And he was going to be damned if he didn't soak up every single second.
He leaned back down and locked his lips on yours again, this time moving slower, more gentle and tender. He wanted to treat you right. You deserved it, and he wasn't going to give you anything less than what you deserved while he still had you.
You loosened your grip on his arms and allowed your hands to drift to the buttons of his flannel, slowly and shakily undoing them. His heart began to slam against his chest when he realized what you were doing, his mind going fuzzy with desire.
He pulled his head back when you were about halfway down his shirt, looking down hazily at your fingers working open the buttons as he desperately tried to think straight.
"Dad?" Sarah called from downstairs, the front door slamming shut. "Are you here?"
"Shit," Joel mumbled, scrambling off of you as he clumsily tried to redo his buttons. You jumped off the bed, leaning over so you could see into the mirror above his dresser, raking your hands through your tangled hair and quickly fixing your sweater.
"Yeah!" Joel shouted back, glancing over at you to make sure you were decent. "Sorry," he whispered, but you just grinned. Then his eyes fell to the half wrapped presents on the floor.
"Wait! Don't come up-" he called out as he heard her skipping up the steps. Joel grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the room, closing the door behind you both just in time.
"What? Why?" Sarah asked, then froze when she saw you. She looked up at Joel, then back to you, and a slow smile spread across her face.
"Ohhh..." she said with her hands on her hips. "Now I see."
"N-no, it's not what it looks like, she was just helpin' me wrap some gifts," Joel stammered, jutting his thumb over his shoulder. You shifted your weight nervously as you looked back and forth between them.
"Then why are you missing a button on your shirt?"
You both glanced down at his flannel, and she was right. He missed fixing a button in all the chaos. Your face flushed beet red as you stared at the ground while Joel hurriedly fixed the button, cursing under his breath. When you dared to look back up at his daughter, she was smirking playfully at you. Joel cleared his throat.
"Sarah, this is-"
"Yeah, I know, I remember from the party. The pretty dress, right?" she asked, and you nodded.
"Yeah, that's right. Nice to see you again," you said awkwardly.
She nodded, still smirking and looking at you and Joel. You could tell she loved catching her dad in this uncomfortable situation.
"Oh, crap. I forgot. Uncle Tommy is waiting for you in the driveway, said he needed your help unloading some work stuff out from the back of his truck," Sarah said.
"Ah, dammit, alright. You okay for a couple minutes?" he asked you, eyebrows raised.
"Of course," you said. He nodded, walking down the hall past Sarah, muttering "be good" to her as he walked by.
You listened as Joel made his way down the stairs and out the front door, leaving you and Sarah in silence, still staring at one another.
"I'm sorry, we really were wrapping gifts," you assured her.
"It's okay," she said with a shrug. "Last year he used duct tape on my presents, I know he needs the help."
You giggled, causing her to laugh, as well.
"Do you play an instrument?" you asked, just noticing the case on the floor next to her feet.
"Yeah, violin. I had practice after school today," she said, picking it up.
"Oh, cool. I played piano growing up, but I was never any good," you said, sliding your hands in the back pockets of your jeans.
"I have my school's Christmas recital on Friday," she said. "My first solo."
"Oh my god!" you said, clapping your hands together, genuinely impressed. "That's incredible! You must be so excited!"
"Yeah, at first, but now I'm getting nervous," she said, glancing down at the case in her hand. "You wanna hear me play?"
"Duh. Absolutely," you said with a grin. Her eyes lit up and a huge smile spread across her face again.
"O-okay. This is my room right here," she said, turning to her right and opening the door. "Sorry it's messy, my dad's gonna kill me."
"It's totally fine," you said, walking in and sitting down at the edge of her bed. You glanced around the room as she set up her music stand. On the pink walls, she had posters up of her favorite bands with a calendar and string lights draped across the room.
"I really like your room," you said, squinting to look at the stickers and drawings she had on her headboard.
"Thanks," she said sheepishly. "My dad let me do whatever I wanted."
You were about to comment on the various trophies she had on her windowsill when Sarah spoke again.
"Just so you know, I don't mind that you're seeing my dad."
Your eyes shot up to hers in surprise, not sure what to say. You hadn't really had a chance to talk to Joel about your relationship and how that would affect his daughter.
"He's been in such a good mood this past week, and he won't tell me but I know it's because of you," she said, pinning you with a familiar brown gaze.
"Oh, that's so sweet, Sarah," you said, finally finding your voice. "Thank you. That means a lot."
"You're welcome," she said. "I just want him to be happy again."
You dropped your gaze to your lap, your chest tightening at the thought of Joel being so lonely all these years.
"Me, too," you whispered, still looking down. Sarah regarded you for a minute before slapping her palms against the tops of her thighs and leaned down to pick up her violin.
"You ready?" she asked. You looked up and nodded, giving her an encouraging smile and sat back to listen as she began playing a hauntingly beautiful version of 'Silent Night'.
Sarah got about halfway through the song when she hit the wrong note and abruptly stopped, dropping her chin to her chest in frustration.
"Hey, it's okay," Joel heard you say softly as he walked back up the stairs. He paused at the top, right outside Sarah's room to listen.
"It's okay to make mistakes. Just go slower, take your time. Anything worthwhile takes time," you told her, and he smiled when he heard his earlier words to you repeated back to his daughter. He took a step forward to lean against the doorframe and watch the two of you, your back to him as you sat on her bed.
"Okay," Sarah said, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes before lifting the violin to her chin and starting over.
Joel listened to Sarah play the same song he's heard a million times already in just the past month alone, but kept his eyes trained on you. The way you gave her your full, undivided attention and encouraged her with a smile or a thumbs up when she would glance over at you shyly made his chest ache.
When Sarah successfully finished the song with no mistakes, you jumped up from the bed, clapping and cheering for her, making Sarah giggle and hide behind her hands.
Fuck, this was going to be so hard.
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"Dad?" Sarah asked the next morning over her bowl of cereal.
"Yeah, baby girl?" he replied, frowning as he pulled his bread from the toaster. He sucked his fingertips into his mouth, trying to bring some relief to the quickly reddening skin.
"Can your friend come to my recital tomorrow?"
Joel froze, his fingers still pressed against his tongue as he slowly turned around to look at her. He dropped his hand and took a deep breath.
"I don't know if that's such a good idea," he replied.
"You don't think she would wanna go?" Sarah asked, her eyebrows pinched together.
"No, it's not that, I'm sure she would," he said, trying to find the right words.
"Then what's the problem?"
Joel sighed and picked his mug up from the counter, then walked over to join her at the table.
"She doesn't live here, baby. She's goin' back to New York in another week or so, I don't want you gettin' too attached," he finally admitted, watching Sarah closely as she considered his words.
"Well, you guys like each other, right?" she asked, and Joel smirked.
"Yeah, but it ain't that simple."
"Yes, it is, Dad," she said, rolling her eyes and dipping her spoon back into her bowl. "My friend Katy was dating this guy last year and he switched schools over the summer. They're still together, it doesn't matter," Sarah said with a shrug, taking a bite of cereal.
If the topic didn't fill Joel with a sense of dread, he would have chuckled at the comparison, but instead he just sat there quietly, watching his daughter as she finished her cereal and scrolled on her phone.
Sarah pulled on her backpack and was sliding on her sneakers to catch the bus when she called back to Joel over her shoulder.
"Just ask her, okay? Please, Dad?"
Joel sighed, hanging his head between his shoulders and paused his hands over the dishes in the sink.
"Alright," he relented, and he heard Sarah clap her hands behind him before slamming the front door shut.
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You: good morning :)
Joel Miller: Good Morning, sweetheart. I didn't think you would be up this early.
You: couldn't fall back asleep. What are you doing
Joel Miller: Just getting to work. Why couldn't you fall back asleep?
You thought about it for a minute from under the pile of blankets on your bed, rolling to your side before answering.
You: I was thinking about you...
Joel Miller: Good thoughts, I hope?
You: VERY ;)
His throat went dry when he opened the text. He glanced around outside his car window, making sure he was still the only one on the job site before replying.
Joel Miller: What are you trying to tell me, baby?
You smirked and bit down on your lip.
You: I was wishing you were in bed with me right now
"Shit," he muttered to himself, glancing around once again before adjusting his pants.
Joel Miller: Me too, what are you wearing?
The answer came back almost immediately.
You: nothing
He groaned and rubbed his palms roughly over his face.
Joel Miller: You're killing me, baby. I have to get working in a minute.
You: i'm sorry ;)
You: I promised my parents I would go to dinner with them tonight, but are you free tomorrow?
Joel took a deep breath, trying to clear the onslaught of inappropriate thoughts from his head when he remembered his promise to Sarah.
Joel Miller: It's Sarah's recital tomorrow night. She asked me to invite you this morning, did you want to go?
He nervously chewed his cheek for a moment before sending another text.
Joel Miller: No pressure, I can tell her you're busy.
He sent his second text right as your reply came through.
You: I would love to!
He grinned and raked his fingers through his hair. Tommy's knuckles tapped on the outside of Joel's window, making him jump. He held up a finger before sending you a quick answer.
Joel Miller: Sounds great. I'll pick you up. Try to go back to sleep. Dream of me.
Joel opened the door and slid his phone in his back pocket, a stupid grin etched across his face as he joined his brother in the half-built storefront they were working on.
"Oh man, you got it bad," Tommy said with a chuckle when he saw the look on Joel's face.
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"Alright, what do you think of this one?" you asked Cassie as you stepped out of the bathroom modeling the sixth dress of the day.
"I liked the red one better," she said, glancing up from her phone.
"Are you sure? This one is a little more chic," you said, twisting around to look at your backside in the mirror.
"It's a high school recital, Buck. I don't think anyone is expecting 'chic'," she teased, and you rolled your eyes.
"Well, I just want to look nice, is all," you said, sitting next to her on your bed in a huff. You tapped your phone screen, frowning when all you had was another text from Sydney and nothing from Joel. You opened it up anyway, curiosity getting the best of you.
Sydney: OMG!!!!!!
You sent back three question marks and locked your phone with a sigh.
"You still wanna get together next week so we can look at apartments online for you?" she asked.
"Yeah," you said sadly, looking out the window.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," you told her. "Just not ready to go back yet."
"Could that be because of a certain sexy contractor?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at you.
"Shut up," you smirked, tossing a pillow at her lightly.
"Ooo you like him! Lookit how red you're getting!"
"I'm gonna kill you when that baby's out, you know that, right?" you giggled.
"Yeah, yeah, sure," Cassie said, looking back down at her phone as the smile slowly faded from her face. "You know you don't have to go back, right?"
"What do you mean? My job is there, my life is there... everything is there," you replied. "Of course I have to go back."
"What life, though?" she asked, and you frowned at her. "Seriously, Buck. Aside from your job, which you hate, what's left?"
"Well, my friends are there. And I don't hate my job that much. I mean, everyone hates their job a little bit," you said with a shrug.
"Is this what you expected to do when you were in college? Is this what you wanted?" Cassie pressed, sitting up on the bed. "Are you even happy?"
You paused, letting her words roll around in your head for a moment.
"Well, I mean..." you trailed off, not sure how to answer her question.
"If you have to think about it this long, I think you know the answer," your sister said quietly. You groaned and rolled off the bed.
"I'm going back. I have to. I can't just give up because some guy broke my heart," you said, turning around so she could unzip the back of your dress.
"I'm just saying, think about it," Cassie replied. "I wouldn't hate it if my child's aunt was in their life more than twice a year!" she called after you as you shut the door to the bathroom.
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Joel eagerly jogged up the porch steps and rang the doorbell, very aware of the camera this time while he fiddled with the cuffs on his dark red button down shirt. He heard high heels clicking on the other side of the door and the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile, which quickly vanished when you opened the door and he saw the dress you were wearing.
"Hi," you said with a shy smile, pulling a soft looking white cardigan on over your shoulders.
He thought he had greeted you. He could have sworn he said something, anything, that didn't make him look like a complete idiot, but apparently nothing came out because you scrunched your eyebrows together when you saw his face.
"Are you okay?" you asked, pulling the door shut behind you.
"Yeah, it's just - Jesus, you look so good," he managed to finally say, tilting his head back to stare up at the roof of the porch for a moment, taking a deep breath.
"Thank you," you said with a giggle. "You don't look half bad, yourself."
He rubbed his forehead, exasperated and flustered before pulling you quickly into his arms and latching his mouth onto yours with a groan.
"Joel," you pulled back breathlessly with a small smile and leaned your head to the side, trying to silently remind him of the doorbell. His eyes raked over you hungrily before shaking his head and pulling you back into a deep kiss.
Fuck the camera, let them see.
You giggled against his mouth, causing him to smile and break the kiss.
"Come on, I wanna get good seats," you said, rubbing your thumb over his lower lip to wipe off your lipstick that transferred. It caused his stomach to clench. That sweet, little intimate gesture made him ache for more so badly that he could hardly breathe.
He walked you around the front of his truck, opening the door and giving you a hand so you could hop onto the seat, the gorgeous red dress you were wearing hugging your curves just right and distracting him to no end.
On the walk around to the driver's side, he mentally scolded himself, reminding himself over and over that tonight was a big deal for his little girl and he needed to stay focused.
As he drove down the street, he realized that his hand instinctively found yours across the seat, his body craving the warmth and softness of your own. How on earth was he going to go back to the life he had before, now that he knows what it's like to bask in the heat of your touch?
Once he got to the school, he found a parking spot and jumped out of the truck. You had figured out by now that he preferred you to wait so he could open the car door for you, so you did. Swinging your legs over the side of the seat, you slid down into his waiting arms, your hands gently coming to rest on the tops of his shoulders. He gazed down at you with his arms loosely hanging around your waist. You saw his adam's apple bob in his throat while he let himself get lost in your warm, beautiful eyes. You lifted a finger from his shoulder, tracing an invisible line down the side of his cheek as you stared up at him with your plush lips parted so invitingly that it made his knees weak.
"Joel! Hey!" Tommy's voice called out from behind, snapping you both out of the moment. Joel sighed and untangled himself from you, taking your hand and leading you forward so he could shut the door before turning around to find his brother.
You could see the family resemblance immediately as Tommy approached you with a wide grin. His hair was a bit darker and a lot longer, and his beard was less full than Joel's, but he had the same soft, brown eyes that you had grown to know and love.
Love? Oh, no.
"Hey, Tommy," Joel said as he got closer, his hand pressed firmly on the small of your back. "This is-"
"Oh, I know who she is. How're you doin', darlin'?" Tommy asked, pulling you into a bear hug, taking you by surprise.
"I-I'm good," you squeaked shyly once he released you. "Nice to meet you."
"I've been dyin' to meet the little lady who's got my brother all wrapped up," he replied with a grin.
"Tommy!" Joel seethed warningly at your side, but you just giggled.
"I'm just messin' around. She knows that, right?" he said, shoving his hands in his coat pocket and rolling on the balls of his feet. "Supposed to snow next week, can you believe it?"
"Yeah, I heard we might get a couple feet," Joel said, steering you toward the doors to the auditorium. "Better get your shovel ready."
You settled in between the two brothers as you found a decent spot in the fourth row. Joel draped his arm around the back of your chair while he chatted with Tommy about work. You inadvertently leaned to the side and rested your shoulder against his chest as you glanced around the room, admiring the lit up garlands around the windows and Christmas trees on the stage with fake presents underneath.
When their conversation died down, Tommy pulled out his phone and began scrolling through social media, holding it low between his spread knees with his chin tucked into his chest.
Joel tilted his face forward to press his lips on the top of your head, breathing in a deep and contented breath. A small smile played across your lips as you turned your gaze up towards him, resting your cheek gently on his shoulder. He looked down at you with a smile and planted a chaste kiss on your forehead, and as each of you slid your eyes closed for a moment, Tommy angled his phone to snap a quick picture, smiling to himself and making a mental note to show his brother later.
The lights dimmed and you all straightened up in your seats. You listened to the music teacher make a small speech at the beginning and politely clapped afterwards. You saw Sarah twice throughout the concert as part of the orchestra, smiling at how focused and beautiful she looked in her white dress. As the concert wound down, Sarah finally came out on stage for her solo, and the three of you eagerly leaned forward. At the last minute, you remembered to pull out your phone and start a video, telling yourself you were doing it for Joel so that he could be in the moment, but you knew you would end up watching it by yourself when you went back to New York City.
The performance was flawless. When it was over, the three of you lept up from your seats, cheering, jumping and clapping, making her wave and blush as she exited the stage. You sat down, giggling, as the people surrounding you gave you all polite smiles and chuckles, then quieted down for the finale.
When the lights came back up, everyone stood from their seats, murmuring and laughing while waiting for their kids to come out from backstage and take pictures. You saw a flash of white out of the corner of your eye and moved out of the way just in time for Sarah to run and jump up into Joel's arms, burying her face in his neck. He squeezed his eyes shut, his arms wrapped around her tightly, murmuring praise in her ear. You felt warmth spread across your chest as you watched them have their moment, the corners of your mouth turned up into a smile with your hands clasped together against your chest.
He let her down gently and she turned to give Tommy a quick hug. He spun her around, making her giggle and fidget with her dress before she turned to you.
"You came!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms loosely around your waist. Your eyes widened in surprise, not expecting such affection from her, but you quickly returned the hug.
"Of course I came! Thank you for inviting me," you said, pulling back with a grin. "You were absolutely perfect, I took a video, I'll send it to your dad so he can show you later."
"I did exactly what you told me, I slowed down and took my time," she beamed, and it gave you a new feeling deep in your chest that you never felt before.
"That's great, Sarah," you replied, your throat tight with emotion. Tommy dropped his gaze from you and ticked his jaw to the side, finally understanding why Joel was hesitant to let Sarah know about the two of you.
"Dad?" Sarah asked, turning away from you. "Can I sleep over at Katy's? She's having a bunch of girls over and her mom said it was okay."
"Uh, sure, baby girl. Don't you need clothes and stuff?"
"I have stuff I keep here in my locker for gym," she said.
"Well, alright, lemme talk to her mom first," he replied, glancing around the room.
"Thank you! She's right over here," she said, grabbing his hand. "Thanks for coming!" she called back last minute over her shoulder to you and Tommy, and you both smiled and waved as she dragged her father across the room.
"She's so talented," you said, turning to Tommy. He looked down at you and gave you a weak smile.
"Yeah, she's somethin' else," he said with a nod. "Hey, listen. I'm havin' a get together next week at my house. Little Christmas party, I guess. I invited a guy I met at your parents' house - Josh? He's comin' with his wife, Joel and Sarah'll be there, I'd love for you to come by if you can."
"Josh is my brother in law," you clarified for him. "That sounds great, I'll be there, thank you."
"You're welcome," Tommy said, then his brows pinched together as he opened his mouth again to speak. "Joel might kill me for sayin' this, but you gotta know how happy you've -"
"Ready to go?" Joel asked, sneaking up beside you. Tommy cleared his throat and gave his brother an innocent smile.
"Yep," you replied, dropping your hand to find his at your side, lacing your fingers together and giving him a gentle squeeze.
After saying goodbye to Tommy, Joel slowly led you through the parking lot to his truck, desperately trying to think of something else you could do, not ready to drop you off yet. He knew the time you had together was coming to an end, and he wanted to soak up every precious second. Especially after the way he saw you with Sarah: so warm and sweet and patient. He couldn't remember the last time he saw his daughter's eyes light up that way.
He prided himself on being a good father since his wife left. Always making sure to put Sarah first, that she got everything she could ever want or need. Especially his love. When his ex abandoned them, he made sure Sarah got every ounce of love he had, hoping it would help make up for the loss. But as hard as he tried, he could never fully fill both roles. There were just some things that a mother provided for her daughter that Joel couldn't give.
He didn't realize it until he saw you with Sarah earlier that night, and then it felt like everything shifted into focus for the first time in his life.
He held out his hand to help you get back into his truck, making sure your legs were safely tucked in before he gently shut the door.
Sitting in the driver's seat gripping the steering wheel, he stared straight ahead for a moment in complete silence, the keys still in his coat pocket while his mind reeled.
"Is everything okay?" you asked timidly. He blinked and turned to you.
"Yeah," he said hoarsely. He swallowed and looked at his watch.
"You wanna get coffee or somethin'? I know it's gettin' late but I'm sure some place's open," he said, deep in thought as he considered the cafés nearby.
"Don't you have coffee at your house?" you asked shyly. His eyes snapped up to yours and he saw the flush creeping up your neck and the rapid rise and fall of your chest.
Oh.
"Yeah, yes," he croaked, nervously clearing his throat. "Let's do that. I have- yeah, good idea," he stammered, fumbling with the keys in his pocket.
You smirked as you watched his shaky hand turn the key in the ignition. He twisted around to back out of the parking spot, and this time you gave into temptation, unbuckling your seatbelt so you could slide over and tuck yourself under his arm. He immediately pulled you closer, not even caring that you weren't wearing your seatbelt. He would make sure to drive safe. Nothing could possibly ruin that night. He wouldn't let it.
At stop lights, you would run your hand up his chest and plant small kisses against the corner of his mouth, filling him with a radiating bliss he never felt before.
Once you got back to his house, you shrugged off your sweater and trailed behind him as he made his way into the kitchen. You leaned against the wall and watched as he opened one of the cupboards - the one with the small birds carved into the bottom - and pulled down a can of coffee.
"I don't think I have any decaf," he said turning to look at you.
"I don't want coffee, Joel," you said lowly. He swallowed roughly and put the can on the counter.
"What d'you want, then?"
You pushed yourself off the wall and slowly walked towards him, his eyes skating up and down your body as you approached. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you tilted your face up to gaze at him, your mouth hovering over his own.
"I want you."
His eyes fluttered closed as your lips slotted against his, his rough hands immediately coming up to cup your smooth face, holding you firmly against his mouth. Christ, he would never get tired of kissing you. If he could do it every single day for the rest of his life, he would. He knew it seemed crazy. He knew you just met, but he couldn't help the way you made him feel.
"Let's go upstairs," you whispered, nipping at his lower lip.
He couldn't speak. He just nodded in a daze and let you lead him coyly up the steps, then turned around to walk backwards down the hall towards his bedroom so you could pull him tightly against your body. His big hands gripped your waist while his tongue slipped past your lips, searching for its mate.
You reached behind you blindly, your hand fighting with the doorknob as his big frame caged you in against the wood, his masculine scent invading your senses and making it difficult to think. Finally, the door swung open and you both stumbled in, a giggle erupting from your throat as your fingers got to work undoing the buttons on his dress shirt.
You hurriedly tugged his button down off, leaving it in a heap on the floor as you slid your palms underneath the white t-shirt he had on, feeling the warm skin of his stomach and chest for the first time.
"Off," you whispered, your heart getting stuck in your throat when he yanked the shirt over his head, leaving his upper body completely bare to you. Your mouth went dry as you drank him in, then lunged forward, your lips brushing up his sternum until you reached his collarbone. You sucked on a bit of tanned skin there with a moan, then slipped your tongue out to press wetly against the red mark you left, feeling drunk off the taste of his sweat.
He gently pushed you backwards so he could ease you down onto his bed, his breath growing erratic and desperate with each little bite you left on his chest. God, has anyone ever desired him this much before? Has he really been missing out on this his entire life?
"Baby, we're gonna have to stop soon if you don't want this to go any further," he murmured. He found himself in the familiar position of hovering above you while his hand slid down your leg and toyed with the hem of your dress.
"I don't think I can take much more, tell me to stop," he whispered when you didn't answer, running the tip of his nose softly against your cheek.
"I don't want you to stop," you gasped as his fingers slipped underneath your dress. You tilted your head back and moaned when you felt his fingertips brush against the damp fabric of your panties.
His mouth hungrily devoured the exposed cleavage of your breasts, growing frustrated with the fabric of your dress keeping him from seeing all of you.
"Sit up," he demanded, leaning back and pulling his hand from between your legs. You obeyed, and he made short work of your zipper, pulling it all the way down so you could shimmy out, leaving you in just your underwear.
"Oh, fuck," he whispered when he realized you weren't wearing a bra. You let yourself fall back gently on the bed, spreading your arms out above your head so he could see every inch of you in the moonlight.
He couldn't believe this was actually happening. He kept waiting for his alarm to go off and reality to slap him across the face, but it never came. His heart was pounding so fast, he was sure you could hear it as he leaned back down and nibbled at your exposed jaw while his calloused hand cupped your soft breast, his thumb flicking over your hardening nipple.
You scraped your nails over his shoulders and down his chest as you arched your back, pressing into his hand, needing to feel the heat of his skin against your own. Your stomach flipped as you made your way down to his belt, and with shaky fingers, pulled hastily at the leather.
Yanking the belt through the loops with one swift motion, you flung it across the room, making him chuckle against your skin. When you started to work on popping open the button on his dress pants, a devastating thought suddenly occurred to him.
"Shit, wait," he said, putting his hand on top of yours. You frowned up at him, your chest heaving, as you gave him a confused look.
"I don't have any protection," he said through gritted teeth. He hung his head and squeezed his eyes shut angrily. "I-I haven't been with anyone since my ex, and I never thought... fuck," he said, clenching his jaw.
You weighed your options for about half a second before tugging his chin up, forcing him to look at you.
"I'm still on birth control," you told him, searching his eyes. "I mean, only if you're comfortable with it, we don't have to," you said, but in your head you were chanting please, please, please.
"Are you sure?" he asked, panting for air. "I don't wanna make you feel like -"
"Yes," you said, cutting him off by grabbing his face. "Yes. I'm sure, Joel. Please," you whimpered, pulling him back down to you, his mouth crashing down on yours again.
"Please," you whispered again, tipping your head back as his lips left a trail of soft kisses down your throat. "Please, Joel, I need you."
His mouth stuttered against your neck. Hearing you beg and say you needed him when he never thought he would ever be needed like this in his whole life made his mind go blank.
"Okay," he rasped. "Okay, baby."
He tugged at the zipper on his black pants and pulled them off as quickly as he could without leaving you. You reached down to help him, hooking your fingers over the band of his boxers and shoving them down. He kicked them off before yanking down your panties, dropping them on the floor next to his clothes.
You eagerly spread your legs so he could settle his hips between them. You glanced down with a small gasp when you saw the size of him and you felt your cheeks flare. Jesus Christ.
He didn't seem to notice your reaction when he was too wrapped up in staring at the wet heat between your legs, pulsing and waiting, just for him. He slid a finger gently between your folds, making you moan and your back arch. Fuck, he loved how responsive you were to his touch.
He readjusted so he was kneeling between your legs. His palms slid up your calves, past your knees and to your inner thighs, pressing them down into the mattress so you were spread wide.
He lined himself up at your center, glancing up at you quickly to make sure you were ready. You swallowed and nodded, your eyes filled with desire, desire for him, something he still couldn't fathom but decided not to question. He pressed forward gently, notching himself against you before falling forward on his elbows.
He kissed the tip of your nose as he eased himself inside you, pausing when he heard you gasp and felt you tense under him.
"More," you finally croaked, your nails coming up to rake against his scalp. He let out the breath he was holding and pushed in further, his eyes fluttering shut and his mouth falling open as he felt you slowly stretch around him so perfectly, like you were made just for him.
"Oh, god," he sighed, dropping his face to the crook of your neck after he fully sheathed himself inside you. He dragged his mouth across your chest, leaving a wet trail from his tongue and red marks from his scratchy beard in his wake. He waited until he felt your muscles relax under him before he slowly rolled his hips, dragging himself in and out as his teeth scraped over your tightening nipples. You moaned his name softly, the sound permanently etched in his brain, a sound he will refuse to forget for the rest of his life.
He began to roll his hips faster at your encouragement, becoming obsessed with the way you felt and the sounds you made, and it was all for him. He spent so much of his life giving to everyone around him, he never truly felt like anyone was able or willing to give him what he needed in return until now. The recognition was depressing and freeing at the same time. Now that he finally had what he always wanted, what he always needed, he was going to lose you and there was nothing he could do about it.
Each moan from your throat and each kiss from your lips dragged him down deeper and deeper until he collided head first with the stunning, yet so painfully obvious, realization that he was deliriously in love with you. It was insane, he knew that. But it didn't make it any less true.
"Joel," you gasped, pulling him out of his trance and back to the present.
"Yeah, baby? I'm here. I'm right here," he whispered, planting soft kisses all over your face.
You bit down on your lower lip and squeezed your eyes shut. The sheer intensity behind his gaze coupled with the agony of only getting to experience this for one more short week made tears burn in the backs of your eyes.
You felt your orgasm begin to swell deep in your belly while your breath became more ragged and your vision went spotty. It shouldn't feel this good. This was cruel, to be able to experience something like this just to have it brutally ripped away from you. It wasn't fair, yet you never wanted it to stop.
He could feel it. It's been years, and it was never, ever like this, but he still knew. The way you whimpered and clawed at his back while your walls squeezed him so tightly, he thought he might pass out.
"Open your eyes," he panted. "I wanna look at you."
You forced your eyes open, now unable to hold back the tears that pooled there as two drops trickled down the side of your face, getting lost in your hair.
"It's okay, I got you," he whispered lovingly, staring deep into your eyes, seeing everything you didn't dare say out loud.
"You can let go, baby," he told you, his hips snapping against you ruthlessly, desperate to come at the same time.
You felt the wave rip through you like fire, the power and emotion behind it unlike anything you ever felt before. More tears poured from your eyes as you cried out his name, your thighs squeezing his hips so tightly you weren't sure you would be able to stand after.
He followed seconds later with a deep groan, spilling himself deep inside you while murmuring praise and wiping away your tears with his thumb.
"Why're you cryin', did I hurt you?" he asked, his voice filled with so much concern that it broke your heart. You shook your head, wiping the tears away with the back of your hand, but fresh ones just took their place.
"C'mon, talk to me," he urged, leaning up a bit as he softened inside you.
"What are we gonna do, Joel?" you blubbered pathetically. He took a shaky breath in and tenderly tucked your hair behind your ear.
"I don't know, baby, but we'll figure somethin' out. We gotta," he said with a sigh.
"I can't lose you," you whispered, pressing your forehead against his and closing your eyes.
"You'll never lose me, I can promise you that," he replied, pressing a gentle kiss against your swollen lips.
He waited until your tears slowed down before sliding out of you with a hiss. Rolling off to your side, he wrapped his arms around your middle and pulled you close against his chest, and as you finally drifted off in his embrace, he thought about all of the options available before you, determined to find a solution.
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Tag list: @lola8888673 @pedropascalsbbg @nandan11 @sushiumex @serenadingtigers @jjlevin @survivingandenduring @amyispxnk @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @merz-8 @wonyoungismind @fandomscollide @anoverwhelmingdin @cayleejx16 @msjjekyll @lizzie-cakes @hexedbywanda @harriedandharassed @joeldjarin - lmk if i missed anyone, if your name is crossed out it means it won't let me tag you
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angelltheninth · 5 months
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Shinichiro Sano Eats You Out for the First Time
Pairing: Shinichiro Sano x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, cunnilingus, first orgasm, fingering, clit sucking, thigh kissing, biting, praise, toy use, orgasm encouragement
A/N: Smut commission! Sano is so good! Where are all my Sano lovers at?
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8. “I’ve been wondering what it feels like…”
Shinichiro kissed up and down your belly, sometimes pushing his tongue out to tickle you, not even noticing how tight you got around his finger when his lips closed in on your pussy. "You don't need to be shy you know. Not with me."
"I-I know." You were both naked, many times in fact, shyness had long since left the building. "I've been wondering what it feels like... getting eaten out." Shinichiro paused inches from licking your folds. His midnight eyes glanced from your wet pussy to your face, "What? Is that weird? You don't have to if you don't want to."
"What's weird is that you just told me no one's ever done this for you before." He moved his finger in and out slowly before easing it out, "I can do that for you if you want." He closed in, kissing down your thigh and placing a soft kiss to your clit, "This pussy deserves some love too, after all it made my feel good so many times before."
Your eyes followed him and his hard cock when he stood up and walked to his closet. He turned around, holding a vibrating pocketpussy and pumping it up and down on his length. He returned back to the bed, angling his hips a little bit upwards so he could still thrust in and out of the slowly and quietly vibrating toy. When he pushed his mouth against you it was obvious why he did this, he was moaning directly against your clit.
His rough fingers spread your pussy open so his tongue could slide in between easily, from your hole to your clit. You could hardly keep your eyes open against the assault of his tongue, making your body melt against his. You draped your legs over his shoulders, allowing him to rock your body together with his when he fucked the pussy toy beneath him.
Shinichiro started sucking on your clit, moaning as you rolled your hips into his mouth. He pulled back and lay his tongue flat against it, teasing you before moving back down to your pussyhole and pushing his tongue inside, licking around and lapping up your horny juices into his mouth, completely getting drunk off your taste.
From your pussy to your thighs his lips spread your cum over your legs and then agonizingly slowly back to your clit which begged or attention. He would always provide. That's the kind of man Shinichiro was.
As much as he wants to fuck you instead of his toy he wants to make this all about you. He keeps closing and relaxing his jaw against you, licking his whole tongue over your pussy, from the entrance to your puffy clit, "Looking so fucking pretty. Tasting even better. Want you to come on my face, in my mouth." His finger pokes at your entrance, "My new favorite meal right here."
Your legs trembled around him, "Shinichiro!" You pushed his head between your legs, only allowing him to move his tongue and rut his hips into the toy, moaning louder, quicker, his mouth getting sloppy. As he opened them and pushed his finger inside you he came into it.
"Fuck, wish it was your pussy." Your back arched into him as you dug your feet into the bed, squirting all over his face as he kept pumping his finger in and out of you fast then slow to help you come down from your orgasm, "Easy, I'm here." Shinichiro whispered when he heard your hiccups and whimpers, "You'll get used to it don't worry. You did so well, my good, pretty girl." He should probably get up and clean out the toy but instead he kept kissing your pussy, clit and thighs. Just a minute longer, he wanted to taste you for just a minute longer.
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chalkscene · 5 months
Text
tears of themis ⇢ YOU DECIDE TO SLEEP ON THE COUCH AFTER AN ARGUMENT
ft. luke pearce, artem wing, marius von hagen & vyn richter
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you’re shifting restlessly on the couch when you catch your LUKE alarm keychain—handmade by luke himself—peeking from behind the armrest, “luke says he’s sorry.” you can’t help but smile at the sound of luke faking a small voice and whatever rage that filled you from your argument hours ago has now dissipated, endeared by the sweet gesture. “you’re gonna set off that alarm by accident,” you quip, the lightness in your tone encouraging luke to come into view. “you’re not mad anymore?” he asks, cautious yet hopeful. all his years of training and building a hard exterior to be a detective have nothing on you because in the warmth behind his hazel eyes that only you can bring out, you still find the boy you grew up with. the boy you’ve always loved. “i can’t stay mad at you,” you admit, on the brink of tears, “luke, i’m really sorry…” luke is quick to bring you in his arms, declining your apology because that’s what he does—he’ll blame everything before he’ll blame you. you’re unable to hold back a sob, prompting him to hold you tighter before he whispers in your ear, “let’s not do this again, okay?”
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ARTEM is going over a recent case when he realizes it’s almost midnight. he’s usually one to pull an all-nighter but gnawing at the back of his mind is the argument he had with you today—you two haven’t spoken to each other since. after having decided to put off his work until tomorrow, he walks out of his home office to join you in bed but he finds you in the living room instead, your pillows and blanket already set up on the sofa. he can tell you’re aware of his presence from the way you’re deliberately not looking in his direction. still, he attempts to catch your attention with a soft call of your name. when you don’t reply, he carefully crosses the distance between the two of you. “we can’t fix this if you won’t talk to me,” he pleads. artem’s convinced his words have fallen on deaf ears until you finally speak, “i just don’t want to say the wrong thing again.” artem understands, thinking back to what started as a simple disagreement escalating into something it shouldn’t have and before you could stop it, you were both raising your voices at each other, saying things you didn’t mean. “i’m sorry about everything i said,” your voice sounds weak as it quivers and artem immediately wraps you in his embrace. “me too,” he tells you, “we can talk tomorrow. just come to bed.” when you nod into his chest, he presses a reassuring kiss at top of your head as he promises, “we’re alright.”
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as MARIUS waits for you in bed, anxiety slowly eats away at him, the argument he had with you hours ago replaying in his mind. you should’ve walked in by now, he thinks, so he waits a few more minutes before getting on his feet and makes his way downstairs. he’s rehearsing his apology, muttering to himself to test the words on his tongue but it all flies out the window when he finds you asleep on the sofa. ridden with guilt, he decides to save his sorry’s for tomorrow when you’re both lucid for a proper conversation. marius is careful not to wake you up—gently slipping an arm beneath your head and looping the other under your knees to carry you to the bedroom. he’s tucking you in bed when you begin to stir awake. “sorry,” you hear him whisper, “didn’t mean to wake you up.” “what time is it?” you ask groggily, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “it’s late. go back to sleep.” he places a tender kiss on your forehead to lull you to your slumber before he shifts you on your side, his chest against your back as he slides an arm across your torso. “sweet dreams,” he mutters and you feel his breath on the nape of your neck. “marius?” “hm?” “i’m sorry about earlier…” “that’s my line, miss,” he quips, albeit sincerely. he gives your body a gentle squeeze as he pulls you flush against him. “i’m sorry, too,” he replies, “i never want you to go to sleep upset.”
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you’re getting settled on the couch when you hear VYN clear his throat as he carefully places a fresh cup of tea on the table in front of you. “chamomile tea,” he states, “it will help you sleep better.” there’s the slightest caution in his voice but it’s enough to tell you what the tea is for—peace offering after your heated disagreement earlier. “thank you,” you mumble, gradually feeling the guilt bubbling in your chest, “you’re using reverse psychology on me, aren’t you?” there’s no bite in your tone but vyn’s eyes still widen at the accusation. “n-no,” he stutters and a giggle involuntarily escapes you, to vyn’s surprise. “i’m joking.” when you notice his body language go lax, you slowly reach for his hand. “and i’m sorry for the things i said to you,” you tell him, “i didn’t mean it.” “i know.” a soft smile curls on his lips as he interlocks your fingers together, “so am i.” you stay quiet for a moment, basking in his touch that you missed terribly before he speaks again. “if you still wish to be alone tonight, i don’t mind staying here.” you fight the urge to roll your eyes, aware of the fact that this is just him assessing your boundaries—vyn does mind and you know that—so you shoot him a dubious look instead to which he responds with a sheepish smile. “i suppose you’ve changed your mind?” you actually give him an eye roll this time. “you know you had me at chamomile.”
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beenbaanbuun · 14 days
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brothers best friend w/ yunho
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this isn’t proof read so sorry for any typos… i’m just too tired to do that right now 😓
you’ve been pummelling the door of your brothers apartment with the side of your fist from at least a couple of minutes now
whether he’s deciding to play a practical joke and leave you hanging is a mystery to you
you can only hope he somehow manages to grow up and let you in soon
it’s an emergency, and the strap of your overnight bag is digging into your shoulder rather painfully
“mingi, i know you’re in there,” you call as you slam the palm of your hand loudly against the wood, “let me in or i’ll tell mum you’re being a bitch!”
threats of your mother usually seem to work; it’s mingi’s fear of your younger sibling privilege, you suppose
he knows that no matter what, he’ll always be the one to blame since he’s older
a system you’ve been abusing for years, you have to admit
the door swings open after a few seconds, and you gear yourself up to give your big brother an earful for being a dick
but just as you open your mouth, you notice that the man that opened the door is in fact not mingi but his roommate and best friend instead
yunho
he’s leaning against the door frame, gaming headset around his neck and plaid pyjama pants hanging low over his hips
it would take a much stronger woman than you to avoid looking at his toned chest, so you let your eyes do a swoop over his smooth skin
“hey, kiddo,” you can hear the smirk in yunho’s voice, “what’s got you banging my door down at 10 minutes to midnight? you know my neighbours won’t appreciate this, right?”
you ignore him
“is my brother in?” yunho shakes his head before leaning himself against the door frame
the way he effortlessly towers over you even when he’s relaxed sends shivers right the way through you, all of them congregating at the apex of your thighs
trust you to be harbouring a debilitating crush on your brothers best friend…
“where is he then?” you urge
“with his latest conquest,” yunho just shrugs like it’s obvious
like you should know that your brother was busy sleeping around in your time of need
you’d gag if you didn’t have more important things on your mind; more important things like what the fuck you’re going to do now
“dammit,” you mutter before readjusting the strap of your overnight bag on your shoulder, “i was hoping he’d let me crash for the night…”
he snorts out a laugh, digging his tongue into the side of his cheek as he stares you down
“doesn’t the guy you’re fucking live like… 5 minutes away from here?”
yunho knows as well as anyone that you and taehyun are not fucking, but that doesn’t mean he won’t tease you just to see that angry look on your face
the way your forehead scrunches and your lips purse into a tiny little pout
holy fuck you’re adorable; what he wouldn’t do to just—
“me and tae fell out,” you spit, your voice muffled through your upset frown, “and we’re not fucking…”
yunho laughs, “not anymore, anyway.”
he dodges the kick you aim at his shins with ease, sliding to the side just in time for you to lose your balance and fall through the doorway
you catch yourself before you can faceplant in front of the man who had been single-handedly ruining your life since you first met him
god knows that the devilishly handsome man would never shut up about it if you tripped in front of him
“enjoy your trip?” he teases as he shuts the front door behind you, trapping you inside of his apartment
he makes a show of locking it before slipping the key into his pyjama pocket
it’s a clear show of dominance to let you know exactly who is in charge
you roll your eyes at him, letting him know that his performance is redundant; you’re in his apartment, of course he’s in charge
“mingi locks his door when he’s not here so you’ll have to sleep on the couch,” he points to the ratty leather thing that sits in the centre of the room
you grimace at the sight of it, knowing that this might just be the worst night sleep of your life
the pealing leather is bound to scratch at your skin, and you just know you’re going to have to peel your skin off of it when you wake up in the morning
you can’t help it when you groan in complaint
“or you can sleep in my bed,” yunho offers, that mischievous smile rising to his face again, “it’s warm and comfy; much nicer than that old thing.”
“are you just trying to get me into your bed?”
he scoffs, “i would dream of it, kid?”
he knows you hate that nickname… he says it with an arrogant look written all over his features
you want to punch that annoying hot smile right off of his annoyingly hot face, despite the fact that mingi would kill you
you want to sleep on the couch just to spite him, despite the fact that you know you’ll wake up feeling half dead
you want to leave and sleep on the cold, wet tarmac outside, despite the fact that that would be an even worse night
a deep breath of air fills your lungs and you let it out with a sigh
“i’ll sleep in your bed, but be warned; i carry pepper spray!”
again, yunho finds it a struggle to hold his laughter in
how can he when you’re so cute? so adorably naive with your little pout and your fucking pepper spray
you’re dumb to think that he can’t see the way you look at him; like he holds your entire world in the palms of his hands
if it weren’t for your brother, he might’ve done something by now
it’s hard to hit when the girl you so desperately want is your friends little sister
“i’m sure you do, sweetheart,” he hums out through his smile, “go get changed, alright? ill be in my room when you’re finished.”
you nod and drop your bag to the floor, your little hands immediately going to unzip it
he wonders what they might look like wrapped around his cock, your prettily manicured nails glittering as your fingers dance up and down his shaft
he looks away for the sake of his own sanity and slips his hands into his pockets in the hopes of hiding the tent that’s forming
god, he needs to get a grip
“bathrooms over there,” he clears his throat before continuing, “take your time; it’s not like i’m rushing to get to sleep or anything.”
and then he leaves you in the sheer hopes that turning his back on you and heading back to his PC will clear his head of all the disgusting thoughts he’s having
the gaming chair creeks under his weight as he flops down into it, slipping his headphones over his ears straight away
his finger moves over to his keyboard to unmute his discord and—
“i did not make us lose,” he hears the shrill screech of wooyoung, “if anything it’s san’s fault for not res-ing me! i was in need!”
“yeah and i had other priorities!” san scoffs, “jongho is a better player; obviously i’d res him first!”
“i can’t belie—”
“hey, yun,” jongho calls out over the argument, “i’m assuming the knocking wasn’t a mass murderer since you’re still alive.”
the other two shut up pretty quickly, both uttering their own cheerful greetings to yunho as if they weren’t at each others throats two seconds prior
yunho chuckles
“it was mingi’s sister,” he hums, “she’s in the area and needs a place to stay for the night.”
he’s met with a symphony of appreciative hums from the three of his friends; yunho had learnt a while back that he wasn’t alone in his feelings for her
“it’s so unfair that she’s off limits,” san sighs dreamily, “if i got my hands on her, even just for one night… i’d put those pretty lips to work, that’s for sure.”
san’s right, your lips are pretty; like two flower petals begging to be touched and appreciated
“sure, dude,” jongho interrupts, “her lips are pretty and all but have you seen her thighs? i’m pretty sure she could crush my skull with those things…”
“and you’d be into that?” san questions, a shocked laugh evident in his tone
“hey, don’t shame him,” wooyoung cuts in, “i’d love for a little brat like her to sit on my face; i could tease her for hours down there…”
there’s a swift knock on yunho’s bedroom door and he immediately presses deafen on his headset before sliding it off once more
his cheeks are covered in a deep red flush, his friends words echoing around his skull as he turns in his chair to watch you slip into the room
oh fuck
he can’t help the way his jaw drops, but then again, even the strongest man on the planet would have a difficult time
especially with you in those tiny little shorts
for someone who claims not to be fucking the guy you were supposed to be staying with, your outfit choice sure is… something
they’re thin and cover next to none of your thighs; jongho was right about them, yunho muses to himself
thick and plush and your flesh jiggles with every step you take towards his bed
he’d be happy to lie between them, he thinks, face in your pussy as you squeeze his head with those gorgeous limbs
he swallows the lump in his throat as you sit politely on his mattress
“i’m sorry about my shorts,” you mutter, a little self conscious with how intently yunho was staring at them, “i know they’re not really… appropriate.”
yunho shakes his head, dazed, confused and horny
“they’re perfect,” he mutters before he can realise what he’s saying, “i mean they’re fine… just fine…”
“they’re fine?” you confirm
he nods
“i mean they look comfy; that’s all that matters, right?” he shrugs nonchalantly as if he’s not thinking about how it would feel to rip the flimsy material off of you
he’s starting to regret asking you to share a bed with him
how the fuck he’s going to sleep with you laying next to him, he isn’t too sure
yunho takes a deep breath before clearing his throat
“if you want to head to sleep, i’ll be right there. i just want to play another round with the boys.”
you nod before crawling into his bed… crawling
he can’t even focus on how sweet you are when you’re obeying his every command
not when your ass is facing him and those tiny shorts are doing nothing to hide the fact that you’re clearly not wearing underwear beneath them
they cling to your sticky—holy fuck you’re wet?—core, the white material going translucent as your slick soaks into it
he can’t tear his eyes away from your hole, which he can fucking see clenching around nothing through those teeny-tiny shorts
it’s a good job he doesn’t have to; before he can lose his mind and rip those shorts from your body, you’re covering yourself with his thick quilt
the way you wrap yourself up and tuck the material between your knees would be cute if he hadn’t just had his soul destroyed by the sight of your pretty pussy
a few deep breaths, and he finds the courage to turn back around to his pc and press un-deafen once more
but even with the sounds of his friends chattering in the background, and his fingers eagerly dancing across his keyboard, he can’t help but let him mind wander to you
what you’d look like underneath him, your face all screwed up in pleasure as you beg him for more
how you’d sound when you beg him for more
how your fingers feel as they dig into the plane of his back
fuck, he’s in so deep
and the worst of it is, it’s not just fucking you that he’s daydreaming about
he wants to know what you’ll look like in the post sex glow, when he has you tucked into his chest so soft and gentle
he knows you’ll be beautiful; so soft and pliant in his arms
he’ll whisper sweet nothings to you just to see you smile and blush
he’ll press soft kisses to your lips just to make you squirm and giggle
god, he needs to be fucking sedated
a quick glance behind him lets him know that you’re asleep; good, he doesn’t want you to hear what he has to say next
“guys,” he helplessly calls out, “what the fuck am i supposed to do?”
“what do you mean?” jongho asks, “is this about mini mingi?”
mini mingi… you couldn’t be further from your brother in yunho’s eyes
he doesn’t want to fuck mingi into the sheets before helplessly confessing his love to him
“yes, this is about her,” yunho relents, “what the fuck am i supposed to do when she’s explicitly off limits?”
“fuck her,” wooyoung says as if it’s the simplest thing in the world, “what mingi doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
“he’s my best friend,” yunho groans, sounding pathetic even to his own admission
“okay and?” wooyoung scoffs
yunho slams his head down on the desk in exasperation
it’s soft enough to not make too loud of a noise; he doesn’t want to wake you up, after all
but it’s also hard enough to let the headset slip loose from his ears
and he hears it
something that makes him perk up and rip his headset off for what seems like the hundredth time that night
no… it can’t be
“yunho…”
your voice is small from the other side of the room, but he hears it as if it’s clear as day
you moaned his name
“yunho, need it,” you whine again, every so slightly louder this time
yunho gulps as he spins his chair around to see you, jaw slack, face screwed up and hips bucking into his quilt that you’d secured between your legs
he freezes
“yuyu,” you mewl
yunho can’t help the involuntary groan that comes from his lips
it’s now or never, he decides
he shuts off his pc, not even bothering to say goodbye to his friends—they’d understand—and takes a second to compose himself
sweaty palms rub against the material of his plaid pants as he rises from his seat and takes a few tentative steps towards the bed
the floorboards creek, but it doesn’t wake you
“yu,” your voice is so sweet, he thinks to himself as he comes to a stop by the bed
a hand on your shoulder shakes your body awake, and before yunho knows it, you’re staring up at him with your big wide eyes
fuck, he’s going to destroy you
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woofwof21 · 18 days
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COZY NIGHTS/CHRIS STURN
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hii this feels so weird and it's like my first time here on tumblr so yeah im sweating LMFAO
anyway uhm i hope im not as bad as i think i guess?
warnings?: fluff, hinting at nsfw stuff, got dressed infront of her but nothing more, use of y/n ig
already eight minutes past midnight on a saturday night and im sitting on my boyfriend's soft comforter, his big white pillows supporting my back as my eyes follow haley dunphy's steps into the kitchen on the screen of my phone. the faint noises of water hitting skin and shower floor is to hear through the door of the connected bathroom along with occasional soft, deep throated hums of chris' to some melody in his head aswell as my amused giggles everytime a good joke landed in my series.
after some time the water had stopped and eventually he comes out of the bathroom with a warm grin, already happy to see my face again.
"heyy baby", he whispers to me with a slight rasp in his voice as he leans down to press a kiss on my temple. i shoot him a quick smile before just turning back to my phone, my pastel pink earbuds muffling his words for me not to even notice them.
chris takes his steps over to his closet, letting the white towel fall to the floor in order for him to pull his soft sweatpants over his legs.
"i already told you like a gazillion times, babe, you don't need to use your cute little earbuds when you're in my room!", he retorts with a faint smirk, a little louder this time in order for me to hear, while quickly slipping through the holes of one of his black t-shirts.
i glance back over to him, taking one of them out of my ears as a huge grin forms on my lips, building up to a chuckle. "i like wearing them!! get's the sound closer to my brain!", i explain in defense for myself as another chuckle escapes my lips.
he just continues to grin at me. that cute but also sooo slutty grin, showing all his teeth. one side lifted up wider than the other, making my heart melt and my thighs tighten all at once.
chris walks back over to me, climbing onto his bed right next to me and immediately sliding his arm over my shoulders to pull my closer to his chest and press a kiss onto my temple once again.
he leans his forehead against mine, his lips close to my ear for him to whisper while his thumb rubs circles on my bare shoulder "i also remember telling you to just use my tv if you wanna watch stuff. don't want your pretty little eyes turn into big squares, hmm princess?"
the smirk returns back on his lips as he watches my cheeks turn a shade pinker at his soothing tone and silly partially unaware flirtyness. the furthest i respond is with a loving smile, which he quickly returns as his smirk softens up into a huge grin.
he squeezes me tightly to him, chest against chest, and lays me fully down onto the mattress while growling
"rrrghhh you're so cute baby!"
i stare into his lovestruck eyes, giggling a bit shyly at his affection towards me before just blankly staring.
chris stares back at her for only a few seconds before leaning down to press lots of loving little kisses on my soft cheek causing me to scrunch my face up a little, my eyes squeezing shut while more and more quiet laughs escape my throat.
"okay! okay! stop it chris! stop it!", i exclaim amused while my hands put pressure onto his chest to try and get him to back off.
he does as told and leans away, still gazing into my eyes with his fully blown out pupils and that stupid grin he couldn't hide whenever he was around me "sorry y/n, just really missed you", he mumbles while his fingers graze my forehead when brushing some strands of my hair out of my face.
"in the shower?", i retort with a laugh at his silly affectionate self towards me.
chris can't hold back the faint blush that paints his cheeks from the slight embarrassment i caused him but he brushes it off with a cheeky smirk as he leans back forward towards me and mumbles in a flirtitious tone "you better join next time" before pressing his soft, deep pink lips onto mine.
EEEK i hope no one sees this actually fuck off 🤗
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too-deviant · 9 days
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pick me up?
with…LUKE CASTELLAN!
contains…frat boy!luke, fwb!luke, boxer!luke, 18+ CONTENT, oral (f receiving), mildly public sex, dry humping
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The rarity of receiving a text from Luke before midnight was not lost on you.
And yet, when your phone vibrated on your desk at eight-thirty, you picked it up and swiped carefully into the chat like it was the norm. You only recognised the oddity of the situation when Luke’s text didn’t read anything along the lines of u up? or come over?
can u come pick me up? 
trav drove me here but left like an hour ago and i have no ride
He dropped his location the moment your read receipt appeared on his screen, and you recognised the boxing gym a few blocks south of your apartment shining at you from under that damn red pin. You asked him why, but continued to slide your uggs on nonetheless, ignoring your roommate’s questioning gaze with a wave of your hand and a, “Be back later.”
You only began to question your actions when you reached the first red light. In the weeks you had known each-other, you and Luke communicated solely after the witching hour – when the only light came from his car and the only sound came from deep in the back of your throat. There was the occasional drunken makeout at any of his frat parties, but never had he asked you for a ride. 
Although, you would give it to him; his car wasn’t in the lot when you pulled up. You barely made out his silhouette when your headlights flooded the front window, and he was gone when you turned your car off. You weren’t expecting him to respond to your i’m outside – you never responded to his. But after five minutes of waiting, you huffed a sigh and relented to his clear intentions. 
The inside of the gym was as expected – cold from the AC, but warm from the residual body warmth. A ring in the middle of the space, several punching bags and other equipment you couldn’t name. Footfalls pulled you from your stupor, and your eyes drifted to where Luke’s familiar figure was exiting the locker room a few feet to your left. 
His compression shirt hugged him in all the right places – the bulging of his biceps and outline of his abs a refreshing change from the loose hoodies and baggy team jerseys he usually wore whenever you met, leaving everything to your imagination. He was in his usual grey sweats, and you applauded the consistency, always down to admire the way they hung low on his hips – the urge to tuck your fingers under the band was prominent, but you held back in favour of watching him pull off his gloves and flex his fingers in such a way that must’ve been on purpose. 
“You needed a ride?” While the circumstances of your meetup were out of the ordinary, you kept to the usual sarcastic comment. More often than not did you mutter uber for one? whenever you climbed into his car – and just like clockwork, Luke rolled his eyes and smirked at you through his bottom lashes. You weren’t stupid, and he was well aware. 
“Totally.” Was his muttered response.
“None of the other fifty guys you live with were available?” 
His hands wrapped comfortably around your hips, pulling you ever-so closer, “None of the guys I live with have lips like yours.”
“They don’t?” You pouted, hands wrapping around his shoulders and sliding up his neck, “But I swear me and Connor use the same lipgloss.”
He chuckled lowly, arms tightening around you until he could lift you up and spin you around, sitting you down on an empty table you assumed was for gloves and tape. A gasp ripped through you at the sudden movement, fingers tightening around him for balance – Luke simply sidled between your thighs and rested his hands gently on top of them. 
He kissed you, deep and slow, and you allowed yourself to get lost in it – so lost that you barely registered it when he went for the waistband of your shorts. You just used his shoulders as leverage, mouth still on his, and let him slide them under you and discard them on the ground. 
He pulled away from you, knees already buckling and mouth latching on to your shirt as he went further down, “Not those ones.”
Your fingers tangled perfectly in his curls, coiling through their humid wisps and tightening when he pushed your underwear aside and licked a stripe from deep below your vulva all the way up to your clit, latching around it and doing that thing he always said he’d do if you were good enough. Your mewl was amplified by the echo of the empty space, and the table rocked only briefly before Luke’s hand was on your stomach and pushing you to a laid back position. 
The way he suckled at you, dipping his tongue into you for a brief moment only to come back out and swallow around you. Your legs found their way around his head and he groaned deep into your cunt, dropping fully onto his knees and yanking you slightly with him. You gripped the edge of the table out of instinct, but your fingers found their way back to his hair in no time, the peak of your orgasm creeping up on you slowly.
You barely murmured a, “Oh – Luke, I’m gonna…” Before your ankles locked around him and you were shoving him hard into you. He took it like a champ, letting you ride it out and slide yourself across his face and nose until you couldn’t anymore, hips stuttering and dropping back onto the table. 
You caught your breath, and he stood. Luke always did this; watched you. You felt weird about it at first, but soon enough got used to his gaze keeping you warm while the heat between your legs settled and the huffs of air escaped your parted lips. You met his eyes and held out your hands, allowing him to pull you up into a seated position. 
“Been thinking about you all day, didn’t have time to go home and shower.” He pushed your hair away from your face, unsticking it from your forehead, “Plus I really did need a ride.”
It felt intimate – too intimate for a guy who’s text chain in your phone was the same two word question and one word response on repeat every couple of nights. So you avoided his gaze, suddenly heavy, and pulled him even closer, grinding your wet crotch against the tent in his pants and making it impossible for him to not take you right then and there.
"God -- damn." He grunted into your neck, face dropping. His hands settled around your back, venturing up your shirt and smoothing the planes of your spine. He brought them around to grope your tits, and you hummed in satisfaction at the feeling.
Your hips started to grind, and your own hands flattened on his ass so you could push him into you at a languid pace. Your wet rubbed all over him, staining the grey of his sweats dark, but he didn't seem to mind and took over his own movements.
The feeling was euphoric, and the overstimulation had you biting down on his shoulder, but Luke was moving fast t and uncoordinated, chasing his own high with a series of moans into your mouth once he found his way back to it. His hands stayed on your breasts, squeezing hard and rolling your nipples between his fingers -- you were on the cusp of your second orgasm when you felt the warmth of his cum spread through his pants. A few stuttered thrusts and he was a panting dog in your shoulder, hands dropping to the table beneath you.
"Your place or mine?"
divider by @cafekitsune :)
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wtfsteveharrington · 18 days
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after midnight pt 2 | carmen berzatto x reader
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summary: you leave a surprise for carmen at work that lets him know he's been caught watching your content & the aftermath that follows. she/her pronouns used!
contents: perv!carmy, mentions of anxiety, mentions of filming sex tapes, dirty talk, fingering, hand job, oral f receiving, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, doesn't pull out (sorry he's possessive idk what to say). he also has this lil god complex over your other subscribers
word count: 4,587k
author notes: i had to cut a lil out bc otherwise this was getting lllooonngg. thank you for all the love on part one & i hope you enjoy this one too!! <33
part one
Carmen wonders what you think of this mysterious new account that keeps donating to you. Sending you small gifts. It's nothing too large - He's not trying to put himself into debt by any means. But it is his way of cosmically balancing the scale of viewing your content without you knowing.
Sometimes he lets his mind wonder and entertains the idea of filming with you. Letting all these losers who sit alone at night watching you get a glimpse of how good he could treat you. Your knees over his shoulders as he folds you in half, harsh and rough strokes pounding in and out of you. Sometimes you get smart with him - It's the nature of the kitchen. He thinks about you in that position whenever you pop off with some snarky remark. Pinned under him, two fingers in your mouth. "Put that pretty mouth to use for me. There you go, Baby." His fingers sliding in further, causing you to gag around them but you reach up to hold his wrist in place to let you know you're good. 
He’d fuck you until you can’t think straight, a moaning mess against his fingers as you’re reduced to coming around his cock with no warning. Orgasm shaking through your body and Carmen would just keep fucking into your sensitive body until he can’t take it anymore.
This becomes his new morning routine. Waking up 20 minutes earlier than he really needs to because he just knows he’ll be hard from dreams of you. It’s a bit of an obsession at this point in all honesty but he can’t help himself. He pictures you laid out against his bed sheets, sleepy and grabbing at any inch of him that you can. You’d just be able to relax and get fucked well to start the morning, he’d do all the work for the two of you. 
Any mental space not occupied by the restaurant is fully dedicated to you. 
———★–————————–
Carmen’s barely awake when he walks into the restaurant. His eyes still feel so heavy and there's a level of exhaustion that he just can't seem to shake in his bones. He's grunting acknowledgment at the team, doing a double take as he catches you grinning wickedly at the board in front of you. There’s a familiar pang of jealousy - What’s got you so entertained this year? He scoffs at his imaginary man he’s made up that’s vying for your attention as he heads into the office to work on this week’s orders. 
Except he’s stopping dead in his tracks at the sight of lingerie he just sent you last week folded neatly in the center of the desk. His heart drops to the bottom pit of his stomach as he steps closer and sees a packing order next to the set - His name and address under the billing information circled in a bright neon pink Sharpie. Carmen knows for a fact that he double, triple checked that this was supposed to be a gift and for his information to be excluded so what the fuck happened? 
He’s throwing his jacket over the desk just in case someone walks in before he can take care of this situation but he’s got to get a handle on you first. He’s embarrassed at getting caught. Imagining you must think the worst of him. Trying to justify it by at least he was sending you stuff, right? Cotton boy shorts he thought you’d look so delicate in and lacy pieces of barely there bodysuits he wanted to rip apart and leave stained with his cum. 
He's storming over to you now, ignoring the way Richie called out his name to join him for a smoke break. You hear him mutter out a "Okay then, Cousin. I'll just go fuck myself." That Carmen doesn't even acknowledge. All his attention fully focused on you. His words are coming off harsh as his body tries to process all the different emotions coursing through his veins.
"We gotta fuckin' talk."
The words hang heavy in the air and you find yourself entertained with how assertive he’s being. 
“Why’s that?” You’re looking up at him doe-eyed and innocent. There’s anxiety practically rolling off of Carmy’s body and you’re gonna get to soothing him in a minute but you’re letting him sweat it out first. You didn’t mind that he saw your videos but you were a little pissed he didn’t bring it up. Half because you could have been putting him knowing to use, half because it did feel a little taboo for your boss to be trying to anonymously send you lingerie. 
“Nah, don’t play that shit right now. You know why.” His voice is harsh but you know he’s not angry with you. You can smell the combination of cigarettes and spearmint gum on his tongue with how close he is. His cologne comes into the mix and it’s heavenly in all honesty. He’s embarrassed for getting caught, worried he’s gonna lose one of his best chefs, and worried he’s upset you. Someone’s yelling that they need Carmen to sign for a delivery and your time with him is coming to an end for now. 
Normally your hand never dips below his shoulders or the top of his chest. Always friendly, light touches. This time your hand comes up to rest flat against his heart and you can feel it quickly beating. “Carmy - Breathe.” Your eyes don’t leave his as your hand slides down his chest, fingers trailing along the soft cotton of his shirt. Stopping only once you can feel the dip of his hip. “We’re okay. Go handle your restaurant, I’ll talk with you tonight.” 
You pat the back of your hand against his hip he’s being called for again, feeling a little dizzy under the intensity of his stare. He’s still nervous, knuckles turning white as he keeps a death grip on the line. “Carmen Berzatto, you’re fine. We’re fine. I promise you, okay?” Finally taking pity on him you give a warm smile, stepping back and breaking eye contact. “Go sign for the clams before we have to change tonight’s special and Sydney kills us.”
———————–★–———
Everyone’s long gone by this point of the night. Tina tried to convince Carmen to go home and get some sleep about twenty minutes ago but he made some excuse about wanting to reorganize the walk-in before tomorrow’s service. Really he’s just counting down the minutes until the two of you are alone. You haven’t been able to talk today - Too many listening ears around for Carmen’s comfort. In your defense, you just minded your business and kept on top of your station. 
But God he can’t stop admiring you from across the room. There’s less shame to it now that you know. Still anxiety, yes. But your comforting earlier has him… Hopeful? Hopeful for what he’s not sure. 
You catch him staring at one point during dinner service, risking a glance around the kitchen and throwing him a wink before turning back to work and deliberately giving him a small shake of your ass. To anyone else it would probably look like you were just swaying mindlessly. Not to Carmen though. You’re teasing him and it’s working.
Tina’s finally shouting out goodbyes and Carmen’s eyes are trained on watching as you walk towards the office. Any pretend task he was doing is quickly forgotten as he intently follows you. He’s played this situation over in his head a dozen times, even burned himself on the cigarette he forgot he was holding earlier.
He finds you standing by the desk, running your fingers along the edge of it and grinning. “What happened to my present, Carmen?” 
“Chucked it in my locker. Couldn’t risk someone findin’ them, you know?” It’s embarrassing enough having to answer to you, he couldn’t imagine trying to explain to the staff (or God forbid his sister) why there’s lingerie with his name on the desk. Carmen’s face is overheated and his heart is pounding. For all the hours he’s spent fantasizing about you, he’s never really considered this conversation until today. Typically he skips right towards fucking you however you’ll let him. But now he’s stuck face to face and trying to figure out how to acknowledge his actions. 
"You know I, uh -..." He's sputtering out, trying to figure out just how to defend himself, "You're very, very pretty if that means anything. Fuckin' gorgeous, honestly."
"Did you get off watching me?"
There's no going back now.
"Yeah, I did."
You're grinning at him now, stepping closer and Carmen swears the temperature in the room just went up by ten degrees. He's got his eyes trained on your face for the second time tonight. Hunting out exactly how you're feeling. What he doesn't expect is to feel a feather light touch along the waistband of his pants, nails scratching along his skin as you slide two fingers under the fabric. "Did you think about fucking me? Or did you think about me getting on my knees for you more?"
Carmy's starting to wonder if this is real. Maybe another daydream? For the time being he decides to stay with it though. Trying with all his might to sound as confident as he's mentally done so many times having this part of conversation with you in his head before. "Fucking you. Always thought how much better I'd feel for you than those little toys you use. Sometimes -" He takes a deep breath, straightening his shoulders and trying to build up the confidence to keep this going. He's still not convinced he isn't in some sort of trouble with you. "Sometimes I'd watch you play with your clit. Watch you whine and just knew how badly you needed me to be there."
Your hand slides lower now, fingers pushing through the patch of hair at the base of his cock. Carmen's breathing stops at the touch and you can feel him getting hard under your touch. "Really?" You hum, flattening your hand out and running it down his length. His hips twitch involuntarily as you cup your hand over him, middle finger dragging along his tip. "I've thought about you too, you know? Sometimes you get so fucking pissed off during a rush. I think to myself 'God, he needs to take that anger out' and wonder if fucking me out back would help calm you down. Letting you use me. Sometimes I think you'd walk away after you finish but I know you'd never leave me there all needy and not taken care of, right Carmy?"
He's shaking his head, his heart pounding and he's pretty sure he has never breathed his hard in his life. Labored and uneven while his cock keeps getting hard under your hand. He wants to kiss you, drop to his knees and lick you until you forgive him or decide to take pity and let him fuck you. But instead he settles for showing his need by rocking his hips up against your hand, letting out a broken little groan. "Never would just leave you back there. All I wanna do is - fuck - treat you right. Every night I think about how pretty you must sound begging for me."
You wrap your hand around the base of Carmen's cock, giving him a pleased grin when he fucks himself into your dry fist instantly.
"Do you think you deserve my pussy, Carmy?"
Another jolt of his hips. "No, no I fucking don't."
You lean in, just barely ghosting your lips against his. Carmen has given up all control and allows himself to be fully at your mercy. Your hand pulls back from his cock, sliding out of his pants and he's whining. Shamelessly whining. You're kissing the corner of his mouth, lips traveling down his jaw while you make quick work of unbuttoning your jeans. You grab ahold of his hand, sliding it down the front of your pants and into your underwear. Keeping his hand flat along yours, you use your fingers to navigate his. Rewarding him with a quiet moan right in his ear as the two of you press down against your clit. "I'm so wet for you, Carmy. Been thinking about what you must feel like ever since I caught you watching me." Your hips are rolling down against your hands as you come back up to face him again, bumping your noses together and rewarding him with another moan when Carmen's hand starts to move on its own. Two rough fingers sliding down from your clit to between your folds.
"C'mon, Chef. Want you to fuck me just like you've been dreaming about. Can you be a good boy and do that for me, hmm?"
Something deep in Camren finally snaps and he’s ready to fully earn your praise. One hand comes up to cup the back of your neck and pull you into a deep kiss while the other hand focuses on teasing your clit. His tongue is licking into your mouth at the same time one of his fingers begins to push into you and the combination of sensations is heavenly. You’re moaning into the kiss, both of your hands coming to wrap around his chest so you can begin pressing your fingers into the muscles of his toned back.
He doesn’t let up - Tongue sliding along yours and his fingers messaging the back of your neck while his other hand pulls out of you. You’re whining at the loss as Carmy pulls back, his fingers coming up to lips as he licks you off of them. “Been dreaming about what you taste like.” He looks sinful - Blue eyes staring into your soul as he follows his early fantasy and pops his fingers out of his mouth. Index finger tracing over your bottom lip until you take the hint and let your jaw fall open. Carmen’s fingers slipping in and weighing heavy against your tongue. “Dream about you begging me to come all over this pretty face.”
You start to rub your thighs together as the heat builds in your core, finding yourself getting more desperate as time goes on. Carmen drops to his knees, making quick work of pulling down your jeans and helping you step out of them. He’s making sure you're balanced once again before looking up to realize you’re wearing a pair of the underwear he sent you. Carmy smirks to himself, realizing he’s played right into your little game.
You want to make some cocky remark but suddenly his face is between your thighs and you lose all train of thought. His nose bumps along your covered clit before he licks a strip up the soaked fabric. “Can’t believe how fuckin’ wet you are.” Carmy reaches up to slide the panties down your thighs, taking his time and keeping his eyes looking up at you while he does. You watch as the pair is stuffed into his back pocket and he begins to place open mouth kisses along your inner thigh. Lips exploring closer and closer but always just far enough away from where you need him.
Your hand comes down to lace in his hair, the other one reaching over to try and steady your shaky legs by gripping onto the desk. “Carmy please.” You give his hair a little tug, unsure of his pain tolerance but you’re rewarded with a guttural groan coming from below you.
“Fuck - Pull my hair again.”
So you do, getting a better grip at the base and giving his hair a good pull. You direct his head closer to your center and Carmen lets you until he finds himself buried into your pussy. His tongue lapping over your folds and completing a circuit around your clit before going back down to the base of your hole. He’s moaning your name into you, his hands coming up to grab ahold of your ass. Helping you stay balanced while making sure you can’t get too far away from him.
He’s pretty sure if you say his name again he’s going to come in his pants so he’s putting in as much effort as he can to keep you distracted. Delivered a sharp smack to your ass at the same time he sucks onto your clit. He brings his other hand back between your thighs, tongue still working against your clit while he traces you with his bare fingers. 
There’s a finger being pushed into you and you tug on Carmen’s hair once again as he quickly pushes another in, dragging them both along your walls and all he can think is how good you’re going to feel wrapped around his cock. “S’good, Carmy. So fucking good. Jesus Christ.”
Your thighs are clamping around Carmy's head and both of your hands fly to grab a hold of his hair as you feel your orgasm start to build up in your stomach. “Shit! Carmen please!” He doesn’t let up, sucking at your clit while his fingers continue to curl inside of you. No one has been able to make you finish like this before and you’re a mess of gasps and moans and hips jerking involuntarily. 
It only takes another minute of him stretching you out and licking you up for your orgasm to hit. A mess of curses and cries falling from your lips as the sensation falls over you. Your legs instantly go weak and Carmen’s quick to grab a hold of your hips to keep you upright. 
He’s helping you hop onto the ledge of the desk with a reassuring little “Relax, I got you.” Your thighs are shaking, whole body vibrating and you’re keeping your thighs apart to avoid any pressure on your overstimulated clit. Carmen’s so proud of himself at the sight of you trying to recover. He’s between your knees, pressing down his work pants and his boxers before haphazardly kicking them across the floor. Your eyes drag along his chest, over his tattoos, along the length of him that’s thick and beautiful and ready to be buried inside of you. 
His hands find the bottom hem of your shirt, grabbing ahold and pulling it over your head. Your bra follows suit next. Both of your clothing is covering the floor of the office and you can't help but giggle at the mess made in Carmen's otherwise prestigious space. He's letting out a hum of appreciation at the sight of your breasts. Cupping one in each hand and letting his thumb drag across your nipples. "Fuckin' gorgeous. Been wanting to do this for so long."
There's a mouth wrapped around your nipple now, Carmen making quick work of sucking at it. Flicking his tongue across the hard nub. He pulls back, blowing a stream of cool air against your wet skin before switching to your other breast and repeating the process. You get to sit there and savor the feeling, playing with his hair while Carmen takes his time exploring your breasts. When he thinks you're just blissed out enough, he kisses a path up to leave a small hickey onto your soft skin.
You notice, of course you do.
But you don't complain.
Carmen wonders if you'll let him mark you up before you film anymore content. Wonders how many men will realize they don't stand a chance with you anymore and that you belong to him already.
There's another nip being delivered to the skin of your breasts before he comes back up to give you a warm smile.
Carmen’s leaning in to grab ahold of your jaw, kissing you gently while you reach out to grab ahold of him and get rewarded with a moan. Rubbing your thumb across his tip to collect a bit of moisture and lazily jerk him off.  He’d be fine with this and nothing else for the rest of the night. Getting you off and finishing wherever you ask him to but he knows that won’t be enough for you. For now he enjoys exploring your mouth. Getting to taste you and he wonders if you’re tasting yourself on his tongue. 
You scoot towards the edge of the desk and wrap your free arm around Carmen’s neck. You’re both so hot to the touch. Hearts beating fast, breathing uneven. Needy and unashamed how obsessed with the other you both are. His hands start rubbing up and down your thighs as he gives you a second to recover from your orgasm. He’s got you smiling against his lips as you kiss him, giving a playful nip to his bottom lip. You can’t decide if you want him to use you while you’re still riding the aftershocks or obsessed with how he’s letting you savor the moment. 
Once your thighs stop shaking you wrap them around Carmen’s waist, dragging his body closer to yours. He’s chuckling at you, firm hands sliding down to grab at your hips and your ass, whatever he can get a hold of first. “Wanna watch you put me in. You do so good at fucking yourself in your videos, Baby. Wanna see you tease yourself with me instead of those fucking toys.” 
You drag the tip of him through your folds, teasing the both of you. Carmy’s giving up every ounce of control in this moment, all given to you. “So big. You’re gonna make me feel so good, Chef.” There’s a sound coming from deep in his chest, “Use my name.” Oh. You nod the best you can while being so close to him, giving a chaste kiss to his lips. “I’m so wet for you, Carmy.” 
You’re sliding the length of him between your folds again, tapping his head at your own clit before bringing him to settle right against your hole. Your hand comes around to press on his ass, directing him to push in. It’s hard to tell which sound is coming from who but soon the small office is filled with broken moans as he starts to stretch you out. 
His first stroke is slow, both of you adjusting to the sensation. He’s sinking in inch by inch, thinking of whatever bullshit nonsense he can to keep himself from instantly busting when he’s barely even inside of you. His brain is glitching, trying to hold onto this one time he walked in on Fak taking a bubble bath to keep his orgasm at bay but at the same time you’re moaning his name and playing with the hair on the nape of his neck and his balls feel so heavy and heavenly resting against you as he bottoms out and - 
“Carmen please, please.” Right, focus. 
He’s kissing you once again before rolling his hips. There’s his strong arms wrapping around your torso to keep you in place and you feel so warm and safe and full. You decide maybe Carmy deserves a little more shit soon for not burying himself inside of you the second he found your channel. “Gonna take care of you, Honey. Feel’s so good huh? Been dreaming of you wrapped around my cock and it’s so much better than I could have imagined.”
You nod and feel your body going limp, leaning your head down to rest your forehead on his shoulder while he starts to fuck into you. Each time you press a warm, open mouth kiss to his neck his speed picks up. The lewd slapping sound of his cock sliding into your wet pussy combined with his balls slapping against your ass filling the room. He’s bumping his shoulder up against your head, “Look at me? I wanna see your pretty face.” 
It takes all the strength left in your body to pick your head back up, “So much better than when I do it myself, Carm. Needed you so bad, so fucking bad.” He grunts, rewarding your praise with a sharp jerk of his hips as he brings his hand down to toy with your still sensitive clit. Your head falls back at the sensation so Carmen brings his free hand to grab your jaw, tilting your head back to look at him. “Eyes on me.” He wants to make some empty threat that he’ll stop fucking you if you look away again but he can’t even pretend to want to step away from this.
His thumb stays on your clit while we keeps fucking into you at a steady pace. His lips ghosting over yours as you both get closer to falling apart. “You can give me another, Baby. Wanna feel you come around me. You can do that for me, yeah? Wanna be good for me don’t you?” Your nails drag along his back and something about the hiss it draws from his lips and the way his pace sputters at the feeling. 
You’re a blubbering mess in all honesty. Any facade from your videos of being cool and collected is long gone as Carmen chases your orgasm. Just whimpering out his name and pleas to the best of your ability until there’s one fateful stroke combined with your clit being brushed against that has you coming undone. Nails dragging into his back and he keeps your head in place to watch as your orgasm plays over your features. 
Within seconds you feel him start to pull out of you, presumably for his own release. “Please, Carmy. Wanna feel you fill me up.” Remember how Carmen’s become more religious since he started falling for you? In this moment he truly thinks God made you special just for him. 
His lips are crashing into yours, sloppy kisses meant for nothing more than to convey need being shared until you feel his body go stiff. Hips jerking on instinct as he fills you deep with cum. One of the thrusts causes some of the liquid, a combination of the both of you, to push out around the base of his cock and he stores that feeling for later. “Fuck you feel so good like this.” 
Carmen’s sensitive and getting soft but he can’t help a few more thrusts into your sloppy pussy. Savoring the way he’s been able to claim you as his. There’s a stray thought that he really does want to film with you one night, keep the camera steady on your pretty body as he defiled it.
He stays buried in you, not quite ready to pull out. Carmen’s analyzing your features from this close - The curve of your nose, how well your lashes frame your eyes, the sleepy little content smile on your lips. He’s fascinated by you. The feeling is mutual as you trace over his tattoos, rolling your shoulders back to help relax your body. 
The two of you stay like that for a while, both just soaking the other in. You finally look up from his chest to give him a sheepish girl, leaning in to press a kiss against his lips. “So - Better than what you imagined?” 
Carmen’s laughing, the sound rumbling through his chest and warming up your heart. He looks lighter than he did when he confronted you this morning, a sparkle in his eye even. “Holy fuck, so much better.” You get another kiss from him after the admission, his hands coming down to grip at your ass. “Let's get you cleaned up and I’m bringing you back to my place for the night, yeah?” 
It’s your turn to grin, nodding enthusiastically and giving his bicep a squeeze. “Yes, Chef.”
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tonyspank · 8 months
Text
CAUGHT
Warnings: G!P Reader, smut, almost getting caught
Summary: You really need to stop sneaking in through your girlfriends window.
A/N: end of the 1,000 follower special because i lost my complete draft of nasty & i hate shirt’s prologue so i have to rewrite it whenever i get the chance!
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Sneaking into Tara's window was supposed to be a one time thing. She had texted you asking you to come over at midnight, and you had agreed. You had only meant to stay for a few minutes, but you ended up spending the whole night talking and laughing. You knew it was wrong, but it was worth it.
The second time you snuck through Tara's window was two days later. You had promised yourself it wouldn't happen again, but you couldn't help it. You found yourself returning to Tara's window again and again, until sneaking through her window became a regular occurrence. Soon, you discovered that the feeling of sneaking into Tara's room was not just thrilling, but comforting as well. You felt safe and secure in those late night visits, like you had a special secret between the two of you.
Sam was one protective sister and if she found out you had been sneaking through her window she would have been furious. Sam didn't even approve of you and Tara dating in the first place, so she would have been livid if she found out you were coming over late at night. She would have probably had some choice words to say, if not more. Sam was a force to be reckoned with and she wouldn't have let you get away with it. In fact, she would have likely put a stop to it immediately and made sure you never came back.
It's not like you snuck into Tara's room every single day, it was like a weekly thing to do. It felt nice to sleep next to each other even if it was for a couple of hours. You never stayed past midnight but it was enough to make you feel connected. It was a nice escape from reality.
This time, it was different. Tara didn't approach you on campus with a kiss like she usually does before asking you to sneak through her window. This time she texted you randomly at 10:18 PM. You had never seen her do that before, texting you so late. You were a bit worried, but you decided to text back and ask her what was going on.
tara <3 : can u come over
you : what's wrong?
tara <3 : please. just come over. my windows open
you : okay im omw, but is everything okay?
You pause your movements from grabbing your coat as your phone vibrates in your pocket. It's a voice message from Tara, you immediately click play, the audio playing in your right airpod. Your eyes nearly budge out of their sockets as you stare at your screen. Tara moans your name, and you can hear heavy breathing as she stutters out her message. You feel your cheeks flush with heat as you quickly shut off the message. You look around, glancing at a sleeping Chad and Ethan on the other side of your dorm room.
Forgetting about your jacket, you leave the dorm room in a hurry, almost tripping over Ethan's slides in the doorway. You take the stairs two at a time as you rush out the door, hoping to make a quick escape. As you step out into the fresh air, you walk as fast as you can to Tara's apartment, your heart pounding in your chest. You arrive at her window, opening it and calling out her name. She appears at the window, half naked, red cheeks, and a smile on her face.
"You're such a tea—" you're cut off by a pair of soft lips onto yours. You wrap your arms around her waist, feeling the warmth of her skin against yours. You pull back, looking into her eyes and she smiles, resting a hand on the side of your neck before pulling you into a more heated kiss.
You reluctantly break away, both of you breathing heavily. She looks into your eyes before gripping your white tee, trying to pull it off your body. You look around, knowing you should stop, but you can't help but smirk as you allow her to pull it off. She then moves to your Batman pajama pants, roughly pulling them down.
She moves back and looks at you with a sly smile, her eyes roaming your body. You laugh at her before taking her into her arms, your lips meeting in a passionate kiss as you both fall onto the bed. You savor the moment, feeling the warmth of her skin against yours, straddling the shorter girl.
She smiles against your lips before pushing you away gently, her hands running over your abs. You smile at the brunette under you, "What's got you so needy?" She blushes and looks away, biting her lip. "I guess I just want you," she whispers, her eyes finding yours again. You lean back down and kiss her deeply, letting her know without words how much you want her too.
She wraps her arms around your neck, pulling you closer. You can feel her heart beating faster in her chest, and you feel overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. Your lips leave hers, moving to attack her neck. She moans softly, her grip on you tightening. You can feel her trembling, and you know she's as lost in the moment as you are.
She pulls you even closer, her head thrown back in pleasure as you continue to explore her neck with your lips. You can feel her body trembling with anticipation, and you know you can't wait any longer.
You move your lips down to her chest, your hand moves her bra away desperately, your lips finding her hardening nipples. She gasps with pleasure as you slowly move your tongue over her nipples, teasing them into arousal. You can feel her body arching in response, her hands finding their way tangled in your hair.
You move lower, trailing kisses down her body, feeling her shudder beneath your touch. You reach her stomach, exploring her with your tongue as you make your way lower. Your hands find her hips, and you move your mouth to the place between her legs.
You feel her body tense, her breath coming in short gasps as your tongue caresses her. She murmurs softly, her pleasure evident in her voice. You move your hands to her thighs, feeling her trembling with anticipation as you continue your exploration.
"No," she gasps out. You pull away, confused. She takes a deep breath, trying to steady her breathing. She looks up at you, her eyes full of desire.
"I want your cock," she finally whispers, her voice full of need.
You smile, feeling triumphant as you pull down your underwear. She wraps her hand around your length, her touch gentle but sure. You lean in and kiss her, your tongues entwining in passion. You take her then, pushing her to heights of pleasure like she's never known before.
"Fuck." She mutters as you bottom out inside of her. You stay there for a moment, allowing her to savor the feeling before you move in and out of her in a steady, rhythmical motion. "You're so wet, Tara." You groan, gripping the pillow she rests her head on.
She throws her head back and moans in pleasure, her grip on you tightening. You can feel her muscles contracting around you, pulling you deeper into her. "Shit, shit, faster, fuck..." She screams in pleasure, her body trembling with every thrust which is harder and faster as she requested.
Tara's legs wrap around your waist, and her breathing becomes more labored as you push her closer and closer to the edge. She didn't exactly tell you Sam was home, but the idea of her being caught made her pleasure intensify. One of her hands leave your back, moving to hold your forearm as her eyes roll back in pleasure. "Oh my god...fuck, Y/N."
You let out a satisfied moan as her body shudders beneath yours. She reaches her peak before you do, her body going limp beneath you as she's filled with warmth and contentment. You lean down to kiss her softly slowing down your movements to help her ride out her high.
Sam sits up in her bed, her eyebrows furrowed as she swore she just heard the sound of moaning coming from down the hallway. But hearing it's silent, she lies back down, trying to fall back asleep. She listens for a few moments more, before deciding it was just her imagination. With a sigh, she turns over, trying to get comfortable enough to fall back asleep.
Until, she hears it again.
Tara's face is now buried in her pillow, her arms being pulled back behind her as your hips thrust into her relentlessly. She gasps in pleasure as her body moves with yours, pushing back into you with each thrust. A loud slap is heard throughout the room, followed by Tara's moans of pleasure. Her back arches as you build up to your climax, your movements becoming more and more frenzied.
You lean into Tara, letting go of her arms as you wrap a hand around her throat, pulling her back against your chest. She calls out your name as her body trembles, "Y/N...I'm about to cum..." You tighten your grip, pushing her closer to you as your other hand caresses her body. She gasps and her body quivers as you move your hand lower, and her breathing begins to deepen. "Me too, baby."
Sam angrily stomps through her apartment, her body subconsciously walking to Quinn's room. She stops in front of the door, noticing the moans still sound far away. This causes even more confusion in her brows, and she realizes it's coming from Tara's room. Her legs move even faster.
Sam slams open the door to Tara's room, only to find Tara asleep in her bed. Sam stands there, dumbfounded. She can't believe it was all a dream. She quietly closes the door and slowly walks back to her own room, her mind filled with confusion.
You let out a breath, moving from under the bed. "That was so fucking scary." You stand up and Tara watches you with a small smirk on her lips. "I wouldn't let Sam hurt you, baby. You know that." You roll your eyes at your girlfriend, grabbing your shirt to finish getting dressed. You then laugh, pulling your shirt over your head. "Suree..."
Tara pulls you in for a hug, her arms wrapping around your waist. You can feel the warmth of her embrace, and it immediately relaxes you. You press a kiss to her forehead, mumbling against it. "I'll see you tomorrow, love."
She squeezes you tight, before finally letting go. You take a few steps back, smiling at her before turning around and waving goodbye. Tara smiles back, waving as you leave through her window.
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