#the way this could turn into a whole series

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

just for tonight

a/n: sure, I was vigilantly working on a different wip (a very long one that needed a lot of strength to get through) but then this whole fantasy came to me and i just couldn't stop myself... at least i downgraded the idea from a full-fledged series (which i sadly very much do not have the time for) to just a slutty little one shot in an au that i can always pop back into whenever the itch pops up (or when anyone has a slutty request for it hehe).

summary: before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 

warnings: bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader, smut, reader's mom is the british ambassador to france, age gap (10-15 years), tattooed!bucky (both a metal arm and tattoos as picked in a poll by you), beefy!bucky, forbidden romance, posh political party, alcohol consumption, wet dream, lingerie, stockings, one night stand (except we already know those fools can't keep it to just one night), kissing, dirty talk, manhandling, size kink, oral, fingering, impact play, squirting, gaping, belly bulge, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie

word count: 4907

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“You sure, you don’t want some?” you squinted over at your bodyguard as you lowered the champagne flute from your lips, “this shit costs more than my dress, which is really saying something,” you pointed to the red silk gown that hung from your frame, “this is Dior.”

“I’m good, miss,” Bucky uttered, tight-lipped as always. 

“Right, sorry,” you sat the glass down at the tall table you stood beside, “can’t drink while on duty.”

Posh parties such as the one tonight were always a bit of a drag to get through. Even though you’d been hauled along for most of your life, they’d never gotten any more amusing. 

But when your mother hired Barnes to be your personal bodyguard a few months back, the thought of getting dolled up just to have a bunch of provoking politicians talk your ear off about ideas you’d never in a million years support, somehow didn’t seem as bad as it used to now that he was constantly at your side. 

It had been a little incident involving your phone getting hacked, an explicit video nearly getting leaked, one that had been made for an ex who lived in another country to make the distance more barrable, and a few threatening messages from the perpetrator that had been the reason for your new shadow. 

Though you’d been resistant at first, storming into your mother’s office to state that you were a grown woman and didn’t need a babysitter just because someone tried to exploit an old sex tape that in your opinion wasn’t even that big of a deal, swiftly got squashed when a then stranger cleared his throat behind you and shared the more gruelling threats that had been made alongside the hacking. 

You’d hoped and prayed that he’d turn out to be a pain, that his personality could squash the feelings that fluttered inside of you whenever you looked at him, but unfortunately, he wasn’t an asshole. He was quiet, professional to a fault, but he wasn’t a dick. If anything, all of the silence and all of the glances to always keep track of you made the crush worse. It made you feel as if you were in a Jane Austen novel, reading between the lines of subtext your unreliable brain came up with.

“You tired?” he asked as a yawn rolled out of you. 

“Mhm,” you hummed behind the palm you had brought up to your lips. 

“The car’s ready to take you back to the embassy whenever you are.” 

A grateful smile twitched at your lip as you offered him a small nod of confirmation, “I’ll just go tell my mom.”

The ambassador, your mother, had her back turned to you as she talked business with a small group of people even though the hour had grown late. 

You waited for a sliver of a break before you tapped her on the shoulder and whispered in her ear.

“Hey, mom?” her palm found yours as she turned to look at you, “I’m gonna head home.”

“Oh, alright,” she leaned in and pressed a small peck to your cheek, “see you tomorrow, love.”

“Bye,” you gave her hand one last squeeze before heading out of the elegant venue, your guard still only a few paces behind you. 

A dusty drizzle met your skin as you exited onto the midnight streets of Paris. The sensation made you want to walk home, though you still followed Bucky to the black car already waiting and slipped in when he opened the back door for you. 

The light from the city reflected on the back of his metal hand as it gripped the steering wheel. You could faintly spot the prominent veins on the other one dance beneath the inked skin as it did the same, tattoos you still ached to discover just how far they stretched beneath his dark suit. 

Though soon your gaze flickered away from his silhouette as he drove, and fluttered out to the glittering cityscape rolling by, the vision of which swiftly lulled you to sleep. 

When you arrived home, Bucky’s steely eyes found your slumbering form in the rear-view mirror. You didn’t rouse when he opened your door and carefully picked you up into his arms. You didn’t wake either as he carried you inside, all the way up to your bedroom, and layed you down on your bed. 

Gently, he removed your heels and quietly placed them down on the hardwood floor before he grabbed your duvet and tugged it over your form. 

But just as he moved to leave your side, half asleep you caught his hand.

“Don’t go…” you murmured hazily, eyes still shut. 

And so, he didn’t.

Bucky simply reached for the tufted chair nearby and, as silently as he could, scooted it closer to the bed. 

Barely an hour passed before you woke. 

Before you even blinked open your eyes, your fingers began to slide down your body as the sinful dream you’d been blessed with still lingered in your foggy brain. 

Though when your eyes did flutter open and discovered the star of the dream sitting in a chair right next to you, your hand halted its voyage, and you sucked in a startled breath. 

“You okay?” he asked softly as you blinked a few times. 

“Uh,” the throbbing that still lingered from the dream probably wasn’t going to fade any faster with him sitting there with his unwavering stare, “yeah, I’m–, uhm…” you propped yourself up on your elbow before sitting up more, “I’m fine.” 

“Did you have a nightmare?”

“No, it wasn’t a–…” your sentence then crumbled as you sucked in a breath, “what are you doing watching me sleep?”

As you met his gaze, he then uttered, “you asked me to stay.”

Your eyes then widened, “I did?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh…” though you couldn’t recall, heat still began to bloom on your cheeks, “I’m sorry, I didn’t–”

“It's alright,” his shoulders offered a faint shrug. 

Averting your gaze, you noticed that you were still in your dress. You weren’t quite sure if it pleased you or not that Bucky didn’t try to strip it off you, though it was probably less the moral intentions and more the fantasy of him peeling it off of you that swayed you. 

“Were you just planning on sleeping in that chair all night?” you asked. 

“No,” he shook his head, “I wasn’t planning on sleeping at all.” 

A tinge of guilt stung in your chest, “I’m really sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, I must have been asleep or something…” you then swung your legs over the side of the bed and got up. As your fingers raised up to pluck off your sparkling earrings, your feet began to carry you in the direction of your wardrobe. Dropping the jewellery off in a small porcelain bowl on the opposite bedside table, you then glanced back at your bodyguard and said, “you don’t have to stay any longer, you can go back to your room and get some sleep.” 

Offering you a nod, he then began to walk towards the door. 

Though, as you reached back to undo your dress, you abruptly uttered, “wait,” and he stopped before his steely fingers could enclose around the door handle. Turning to glance back at you, a bold request then hesitantly fell from your lips, “could you maybe help unzip me?”

He barely made a noise, simply hummed quietly in response before his slow stride carried him towards your frame as it twisted for your back to be turned to him.

When you felt his touch on the zipper, tugging it down ever so slowly, your breath came in ragged, and your eyes fluttered shut. You swore you felt his radiating heat seep into you as he exposed more of your goosebump-ridden spine. 

As the straps tumbled over your shoulders, your hands came up to your chest to hold it up even though you wished for nothing more than to let it drop before him.

And when the zipper finally reached its end, he lingered right behind you just long enough for you to catch the tether of it. Slowly, as if you were dealing with a skittish bird, you rotated around. You didn’t dare to look him in the eyes as you let yourself follow that magnetic pull you’d been trying to keep at bay. Your gaze flickered up to his lips as heated puffs of air seeped from your lungs and you slowly, hypnotically, inched closer. 

But then Bucky opened his mouth and said in a soft and quiet tone, “what are you doing?” making you halt, though not pull back. 

“Please don’t act like you don’t already know… I know you do…”

“You can’t,” he uttered, though didn’t move to walk away either as he captured your gaze, “we can’t, alright?”

“Why not?” you breathed, your eyes returning to his lips, “is it really that important for you to stay professional over everything else? Or is it that I’m just a job to you?” your heart felt as if it was gonna beat straight out of your chest, “you know I like you, I know you do. You notice everything, so of course you know. Am I right?”

A long exhale then flowed from his lungs before the faintest of nods tilted his head, “…yeah.”

“And I have eyes too, I’ve seen the way you look at me,” a shiver trickled down your spine, “so, are you really gonna just stand there and pretend you don’t feel something too? Just go back to your own room and continue to protect me like nothing’s going on?”

“Y/n, I can’t be with you,” he shook his head heavily, “you know I can’t.” 

Can’t or won’t?

Before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 

As if your quiet whispers melted him completely, your bodyguard breathed, “…fuck…” and the next thing you knew, he’d grabbed your face and seized your lips. 

It was like something inside of him had snapped, something you had shattered, with the way that he kissed you as if he’d been drowning and your lips were oxygen. 

As you lost yourself in the sensation of his tongue dancing across your own, you let the red dress drop down your body, passed the sheer stockings that clung around your thighs, to the floor. Like fire, one of his hands disappeared from your cheek and ran down your frame, grazing over the black lingerie that was now exposed.  

Though heated and hungry at first, the kiss soon softened into lighter pecks. 

With his metal hand, he held your face close to his as he withdrew from the kiss, an action you weren’t quite ready for as you dreamily trailed after him a bit, longing for his lips. 

“Are you sure this is what you want?” his hot breath fanned across your features. 

“Yes,” you whispered swiftly. 

But as you dizzily blinked up at him, he simply hummed for you to elaborate, “hm?”

“Yes, I want you,” goosebumps tingled across your skin. 

“You want me to what?” his thumb swiped over your cheekbone. 

“I want you to–, to–…” you fumbled as you felt your desire drip and soak your panties, making them cling to your aching core. 

“To what, huh?” 

“To–… fuck me,” the embarrassingly desperate words tumbled out your mouth. 

“You want me to fuck you?” his unwavering stare briefly dropped to your parted lips.

“Yes,” the syllable rushed out of you. 

“Say it again,” he tilted his chin. 

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Louder,” his feet began to shift, causing yours to shuffle back as well. 

“I want you to fuck me.”

“One more time,” his hand had dropped down to your jaw and his fingers curled slightly to dent your soft cheeks. 

“I want you to fuck me, please!” 

With the hold he had on you, he swiftly dipped down and pressed his lips to yours once more. The world then fell out from under you as his grasp scooped down your frame and plucked you up.

Your arms tangled around his neck right before your back collided with the closet door and your lips tilted away from his as a short squeak slipped out. The distance however lent Bucky to let his kisses dance down the length of your neck and across your cleavage, so perfectly framed by the sheer fabric of your bra. 

Though the hickeys he began to plant across your skin made your eyes roll in your skull, your fingers still captured his tie and tugged him back up for your lips to crash against his. As you moved to push his blazer off, his sturdy grip on you shifted though still held you close as the jacket fell from his burly frame and your palms swiftly scooped over his broad shoulders and down his chest, now one layer closer to letting you actually get to feel the furnace roiling beneath.

Cupping his face close, whimpers seeped out of you and vibrated against his lips as his fingers dug into your ass and rubbed your barely covered cunt over the palpable tent in his pants, your want surely drenching through your thin underwear and marking him as well. 

You almost didn’t realise that Bucky had moved till he dropped you down on the bed. Taking a step back, his tongue briefly flicked across his breathless lips as his fingers lifted to tug his tie off. 

Staring directly into your soul, he uttered, “take your bra off,” as he tossed the tie to the floor and your fingers scrambled to fulfil his request. When you flung the lingerie to the ground, right next to his crumbled tie, the cool night air kissed your pebbly nipples and Bucky let out a murmured curse right before bending down to press his lips to yours. 

Balanced on your elbows, you parted your lips and let his tongue sweep across your own. His touch coasted down your frame, barely granting your tits any attention before his grasp hooked around your thighs and yanked you closer to the edge of the mattress. A surprised yelp escaped you at first at the sudden shift, but as the sting of saliva, that had lingered and connected you from your sloppy kiss, snapped back against your skin, the short cry morphed into a fizzy giggle. 

The light laugh however faded away when you watched him sink to his knees at the foot of the bed. Your legs curled up even further on either side of you, though you weren’t quite sure if that was you or him pushing them up and cracking you open that much more. You could feel his breath hit your pantie-clad core as his gaze fixated on the soaked spot right over your puff. 

When his palm slid up your inner thigh, he only had to reach out his thumb for the broad pad to ghost over your covered slit. His eyes swiftly flickered up to capture yours, checking your reaction as you began to squirm from his feathery light touch. 

Hooking his finger in the gusset, he pulled it to the side and a glossy string stretched out and clung to the fabric as he revealed your glistening pussy. 

A breathy moan billowed out of you as he began to touch you, rolling your little pearl beneath his touch. Finding your eyes once more, he held your gaze as he then leaned down to press a gentle kiss over your clit. 

“This okay?” his voice vibrated against your bundle of nerves, making you twitch. 

“Mhm,” you nodded foggily, “you can do anything you want.”

“Anything?” his lips twitched into a smirk as his fingers stretched from where they were clutching your panties to brush over your button.

“Yeah,” you breathed, “fucking anything.” 

Your mouth then hung agape at the sight of him dipping down to ruthlessly taste your desire. It didn’t take long before he lost himself in you so fiercely that he momentarily leaned back only to rip your underwear off. Both of his hands curved around your bottom, raking across your skin as he drew you even closer to his tongue and dragged it through your wet folds.

Bumping his nose against your clit, he let himself make out with your cunt a moment longer before planting a farewell peck over your pearl and pulling back. A dollop of spit dropped from his lips down onto your pussy. Catching the drop with his fingers before it slid away, he rubbed it into your own juices and made you that much more of a mess. 

“O-oh,” you moaned as he slowly slid a long finger into you after teasing your weepy entrance enough to make you shiver. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned at the soppy sounds his efforts conjured.

Craning down to kiss your clit sloppily, Bucky then slid his ring finger in beside the other, curving them gently as he reached even deeper. 

When he momentarily retracted his digits to land a small tap over your puffy petals, the smile that bloomed on your face only egged him on further. Plugging you back up, he then retracted and repeated the slap though with more ferocity. 

Your head began to lull a bit as he brought his vibranium digits down to roll your clit and his fingers began to fuck you harder, not faster, but with an intent that made your pussy sing for him. 

With your thighs trembling, they nearly slammed shut as you felt the end near, but your bodyguard only slid his strong metal forearm over your legs, hooking it right under both of your bent knees, to keep you spread nice and open for him. 

The veins on the back of his inked hand popped from how fiercely his fingers rocked within you. 

Stretching his thumb up to strum your clit, he tried to sneak a third finger inside of you as he felt your walls begin to flutter around him. 

“That’s it, I’ve got you,” as he always did in every manner, evidently. A smile curved at his lips as your eyes fluttered closed and a symphony of moans flowed out of you with every last tender stroke he offered you to carry you over the edge, “atta girl.”

Melted against the sheets, you caught your breath as he planted one last peck on your inner thigh before standing back up. 

Slowly, with his gaze ever glued on you, he unbuttoned his shirt, gradually revealing the silver shine of the dog tags that hung from his neck and the tattoos that sprawled across his skin. Going all the way up from the hand still shiny with your essence, the ink swirled up his right arm, across his pecs, down his back and even curved over to his left shoulder and intentionally tangled into the gnarly scares sprouting from the border of his prosthetic. 

When the button-up hit the floor, his fingers drifted down to unhurriedly remove his belt, pulling it out of the loops, he let it join the shirt before he undid his pants and let his cock spring free. 

“Jesus christ…” your jaw couldn’t help but drop to the floor as your eyes fluttered at the intimidating reveal. 

Noticing the anxiety that peeked through your lust-ridden expression, his low voice found your ears, “what? Did you change your mind?” 

“No, I just–…” you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his fat cock as it throbbed before you, “I got a bit nervous all of a sudden.” 

“No reason to be nervous, baby,” he breathed out a smile as his fist curled around his girth.  

“Oh really?” you nearly began to laugh. 

“You’ll be fine,” drool threatened to escape the corner of your lips as he slowly began to stroke himself, “trust me.” 

“Really? Because I’m not so sure I’ll be able to take that…” 

“You will,” he uttered calmly as he dipped down to give you a kiss, “don’t worry,” a hand slid into your hair as he cradled your face and ushered your gaze to find his, “you know I’d never hurt you, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you’ll be fine,” his thumb curved to sweep over your cheek a few times. 

“Yeah,” you gently nodded and repeated after him, “I’ll be fine.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiled. Kissing you once more, he then pressed a peck to your forehead before his grasp found your hips and he suddenly flipped you around, onto your stomach. 

Helping you up onto your hands and knees, a hazy smile stretched across your features as he bent down over you and pressed kisses all along your spine. Dragging his bulbous tip through your sopping folds, he then teased you for so long, never granting you any more than a dizzying nudge, that whines began to escape from you.

“P-please,” you heard yourself beg as your fingers bunched up the sheets. 

“What?” he continued to flick and tap your swollen clit with the head of his heavy cock.

“I–I want it–, plea–, please fuck me,” you blubbered desperately. 

“Oh, now you want it, huh?” you could hear the smirk that dominated his face, “suddenly not so nervous anymore about me stretching you out, are you?”

“Bucky, plea–, o-oh–,” you felt your limbs tremble beneath you as he slipped the very tip inside. 

His efforts were so slow at first, gradually giving you more of his length and just shallowly fucking you till you blossomed and opened up for him. 

Gradually, his thrusts began to ease from a mind-numbingly slow pace to something that truly scrambled your brain. You soon lost yourself completely to the molten sensation of his fat girth steadily splitting you open. 

Though when he finally bottomed out within you, a shrill gasp slipped out passed your lips and your frame shuttered beneath him. 

Drawing his hips back just enough for you to regain the ability to fill your lungs with oxygen once more, you heard him murmur in your ear, “what, is it too much dick for you?” retraining his thrusts slightly, he kept his tip from kissing your cervix, “that better or is it still too deep for you?” his hands dented your hips.

“N-no, no, it feels so good, it’s just–,” a whimper slipped out of you and broke up your slurring, “you’re so fucking big, I’ve never–,” you felt like you could feel him all the way up in your throat, “no one’s ever been that fucking deep before.”

One of his hands curved down to your clit at the exact same time as your own did. As they met, he let your own fingers swirl over your puffy pearl as his simply lingered, till he suddenly grasped your wrist and gently led it away from your pussy, further up to your lower stomach. 

“That deep?” he pressed down on your palm and let you discover the dull bulge that formed in your belly at every one of his dizzying thrusts, “has no one ever stuffed you that full before? Not even one of your pretty toys you play with so often?”

“Nuh-uh,” you panted as his warm contact dissipated from your spine and he straightened back up. 

A gravelly moan slipped out past Bucky’s lips as he glanced down to see how tightly your creamy pussy was gripping onto his cock. Your fingers returned to the sheets as his wide palm came down to slap your ass, your back arching at the impact and consequently angling his efforts so that the details of his dick brushed against your g-spot in the most heavenly way imaginable. 

He only buried himself inside of you a few more times, his heavy sack tapping against your buzzing clit at every electric buck, till your pussy gushed around his fat girth. 

“There you go,” he pulled out only to insistently flick your puffy pearl with his tip, “fucking hell,” he then plunged his cock all the way back in before dragging it back out, “keep going,” ushering more squirt to drizzle out. He kept up the overwhelming pattern till your pussy stopped gushing for him, till he’d pushed you through the overstimulation and your cunt slowly began to relax again for him. Eventually, when he steadily withdrew from you, he craned his neck to relish in the way your little hole had stretched out and accommodated so well for him, it even winking sinfully at him every time he pulled out, “good fucking girl,” he growled at the sight, “told you so, you’d do just fine,” your shaky frame jolted as he slapped your ass again, “look at you now fucking gaping for me, christ…”

With a ring of your cream staining the base of his cock, he let himself return to your warmth for longer than just a few seconds, fucking you with such ferocity that your pliant form, still molten and unsteady from your second orgasm, collapsed onto the mattress below. 

Though he successfully caught you before you could slip off his cock entirely, he still let you drop down on the bed, though softened the fall for you, before he followed suit. 

The weight of him on top of you felt so comforting and soothed on your tingly skin.

“You okay?” he kissed your cheek before spreading your stocking-clad legs with his own. 

“Hm,” you nodded foggily and felt yourself drool onto the sheets as he squished you further into the mattress.

Your shaky moans filled the bedroom as he slid back inside, “fuck, you feel so good…” sloppily nipping just below your ear before he picked up his pace. 

The chain that dangled from his neck felt cool on your skin and acted as a stark contrast to how hot his body felt pressed against your back. 

“You think you can be a good girl and cum for me again?” he groaned into your ear as his efforts echoed sloppily, “let me feel that pretty pussy squeeze around me one last time?”

“I-I don’t know,” you trembled beneath him, every one of his deep thrusts making you jolt and gasp for air as he was practically splitting you in half. 

“You don’t know?” he sweetly whispered in your ear as he curled his arms under you. One hand slid under your tit and caught your pebbly nipple in a rude pinch while the other soared down to your sore and swollen clit, “can you try for me? Try and cum again,” your eyes had fallen completely shut, so your whole reality had just become Bucky’s reassuring weight, his tantalising efforts, and his sinful whispers that seeped directly into your soul, “try and squirt for me one last time, sweetheart.” 

And so, you did. It didn’t even take that long before you tumbled over one last time and your pussy creamed for him, drenching the already damp sheets beneath you, as he swiftly came as well, throbbing deep within your clenching cunt and filling your little hole up to the brim till it tried to leak and escape around his girth.

His heavy pants faded from your ear as he slowly crawled off of you, cascading a tender trail of kisses all the way down your body till he gently retraced his track of pecks and settled down next to you. Fluttering your eyes open as his palm slid up to your heated cheek, he gazed into your hazy eyes for a moment before leaning in to softly press his lips to your own. 

You wanted to curl in closer to his frame, but your body was so exhausted that you could barely raise your pinkie finger. Fortunately though, as you layed there in wordless wonder, Bucky’s arms draped around you as he scooted in close, hugging you to him and gently caressing your skin as you continued to blink back into his ocean eyes, not uttering a word out of fear that you’d ruin the blissful moment.

After perhaps a small eternity had passed, he briefly raised his head up slightly to catch sight of the small clock on your bedside table. 

“There’s still a few more hours left before the sunrise…” he settled back down beside you.

“Oh, yeah?” a soft smile tilted up your lips as his touch began to travel south. 

“Yeah,” his lips gently parted in a silent moan as his fingers slid through your sore folds. His stare was transfixed on how your brows knitted together and a quiet hiss slipped out of you as he swirled over your sensitivity, playing with the hot load he’d pumped into you as it slowly leaked out, one of his digits too brash not to try and stuff it back inside, “what do you think?” sharing your breath, he inched in and let his nose nuzzle against your own, “do you want me to be yours just a little bit longer or would you rather I’d return to my own bed?” 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

#lea’s writing #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bodyguard!bucky #bodyguard!bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes hc #bucky x reader #sebastian stan smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes oneshot #winter soldier smut

[ham1lton]

QUESTION TIME?

pairings: (platonic) lewis hamilton x f1 driver!reader.

warnings: sexist comments. interviewers asking rude questions.

summary: being the only female driver on the grid means being the unofficial spokesperson for women in motorsports and you’re tired of it.

author’s note: a part of my newest series! i’m still actively looking for more scenarios and ideas regarding this universe! so if u have any thoughts or questions? let me know! i’d love to hear them <3

“do you worry that being more open and accessible to different drivers will lower the level of competition within formula one?”

the silence could be cut with a knife. everyone in the room looked at you expectantly, eyes wide as they waited for your answer. you took a sip of water as you collected your thoughts.

sometimes, when you were younger and karting, you’d wish that you had been born a boy. that might have been an unpopular opinion but you held it occasionally, although not for the reasons one might think. being a man would have meant that you would have been treated as just another driver rather than a novelty. no one else on the panel was expected to act like a mouthpiece for their entire gender.

taking a deep breath, you composed yourself before addressing the question. "i understand the concern about maintaining the high level of competition within formula one. however, i believe that diversity and inclusivity in motorsports can actually enhance the competition rather than detract from it."

you glanced around the room, meeting the expectant gazes of the reporters and fellow drivers. "by opening up opportunities to drivers from different backgrounds and experiences, we bring new perspectives and skills to the sport. this diversity can drive innovation and push the entire field to new heights."

pausing for a moment to gather your thoughts, you continued, "i don't necessarily think talent and competitiveness are determined by gender or any other factor. it's about skill, dedication, and passion for racing. embracing diversity not only reflects the world we live in but also strengthens formula one as a whole."

as you finished speaking, you could sense a shift in the atmosphere of the room. while your response might not have been what everyone expected, you knew it came from a place of honesty and conviction. and deep down, you hoped that your words would spark a broader conversation about the importance of inclusion in motorsports.

the room digests your response, slowly and steadily until another interviewer speaks up. "i get where you're coming from, but let's be real here. formula one is about pushing the limits, about being the best of the best. we can't afford to water down the competition just for the sake of diversity."

you respected his perspective, knowing that he always spoke his mind but god, if that wasn’t the worst way to word that. "i hear you," you replied, "but i don't see diversity as watering down the competition. if anything, it's about elevating it. different perspectives bring new challenges and force us to raise our own game. isn't that what racing is all about?"

he paused, considering your words. "i suppose you have a point," he conceded, nodding thoughtfully. "but we still need to ensure that the drivers who make it to formula one are truly the best, regardless of where they come from."

you nodded in agreement, acknowledging the importance of maintaining high standards in the sport. "absolutely," you agreed. "and i believe that by embracing diversity, we can do just that. it's not about lowering the bar; it's about expanding it to include drivers who might have otherwise been overlooked."

after a moment, lewis, who had been your unofficial mentor throughout the process of integrating into formula one, raises his hand. he had been listening to the whole exchange with a furrowed brow.

“i just want to echo what y/n has said,” he began. “diversity isn’t a threat, if anything it’s our greatest asset.”

he turned to address the room, his gaze steady. "we've seen time and time again how diversity helps drive innovation and pushes the sport forward. and it's not just about gender or race – it's about welcoming drivers from all walks of life and giving them the opportunity to shine."

lewis paused, letting his words sink in. "formula one should be a reflection of the world we live in – diverse, inclusive, and full of opportunity. and by embracing that diversity, we make the sport stronger, more competitive, and more exciting for fans around the globe."

you smile at that and grin at the interviewer.

“is that a good enough answer for you?” he nods and your remark sparks laughter in the room. after a moment, the interviewers target your peers and you take a deep breath. free at last.

when the interview concludes, you find yourself walking step by step with lewis, who smiles at you.

“you answered those questions well. i’m proud.”

“just followed the hamilton playbook.” you tease. “who knows? maybe i’ll be fighting you for that championship next.”

“i’d welcome the challenge.” lewis laughs, his eyes bright with amusement. “but seriously y/n, never underestimate the power of your voice and your presence in this sport. i always say that the goal is to leave the sport better than we found it, and you’re only in your second season and doing that. i have no doubt you’ll achieve great things.”

his voice is thick with sincerity and he places a warm hand on your shoulder before leaving. as he disappears, a young girl wearing your merch comes bounding up to you. she’s grinning wide with a missing tooth and when she speaks, her accent is thickly american with a strong lisp.

“y/n! hi!” she waves a massive poster in front of you. it has your name, your number and a message of support. “y/n you’re the coolest! will you sign my poster please?”

with a warm smile, you kneel down and grin at her.

“of course! i’d be honoured.” your assistant hands you a sharpie and you scrawl your signature in the corner of her poster. her parents taking a photo of the two of you and then with her parents permission, you sign her hat and her shirt. “thank you so much for all of your support. it means everything and more to me. keep cheering me on okay? i do this for all of you.”

“i will!” she beams. you laugh and pass your assistant her pen. “you’re my hero y/n! thank you!”

she bounces off and her parents wave while saying their thanks. your heart swelled up after that interaction, reminding you as to why you do this. why you deal with all those incessant annoying questions because it gives you the opportunity to help inspire the next generation of young racers.

as you stand there, you see a guy with a camera walking your way. your eyes widen as you make a sneaky escape. today has been filled with enough questions, you think as you hide out in gavin’s office.

#jayde’s works ☆ #maneater ꕤ #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 texts #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #lh44 x reader

[ellatoone7]

❄︎ Helpful bunch ❄︎

Alexia's favourite girls series

The girls help you during your last weeks of pregnancy

You were due any day now. Your stomach was so swollen that you could barely walk. Alexia was on permanent hover mode as she basically never left your side unless one of her daughters needed her. Just like every other pregnancy your wife had been a godsend, she seemed to know what you needed before you even knew. The girls had seemed to inherit that trait from her too as they did everything, they possibly could to be helpful. 

Alexia had woken up early this morning, wanting to make sure you were okay and ensuring that you wouldn’t have to move too much today. Per routine Alexia quickly rifled through the hospital bag she had packed since she found out you were pregnant again. After she was happy that everything was in place, she ticked it off her mental checklist. 

Val was sitting happily outside your bedroom when Alexia opened the door, fluffy her stuffed rabbit clutched tightly to her chest as she stared up at her Mami. Valentina knew that she couldn’t jump on her parent’s bed for a while because her Mama had a sore tummy from her baby sister. Her Mami had told her she could come in a wake her up, but Val seemed to fall into a routine by waiting at the door. Her little face lit up as she saw her Mami, and she immediately reached out for her. 

“Hola mi Bebita.” Alexia cooed as she picked Val up and pressed a kiss to her cheek, “¿Has estado despierto mucho tiempo?” Val rubbed at her eyes tiredly as she shook her head. “Mami, want to see Mama por favor.” Alexia quietly peeked through the door to see if you were awake, but she knew you wouldn’t be for a while. “Mama is asleep nĩna.” Val pouted as she leaned her head against her Mami’s strong shoulder, “Cuddles?” Her hazel eyes shined softly as she requested her favourite thing.

Luckily for Val it was also her Mami’s favourite thing too, she giggled the whole way down the stairs as her Mami made Señor Fluffy speak in funny voices. “Señor Fluffy likes cuddles too Mami.” Val whispers as she holds the rabbit up to her Mami’s face and playfully snuggled into her neck just like Val likes to. “You and Señor Fluffy can have all the cuddles in the world, vale?” Alexia smiles as she gently sits Val on the couch. Val whines when she moves away but that quickly turns into a happy sigh as she watches her Mami grab her favourite cuddle blanket.

“I’ll be two seconds mi vida, I’m just gonna make some coffee.” Val nods before reaching her hands out, clearly not wanting to be separated from the former athlete for long. Alexia only smiles as she picks her daughter back up, Val fiddles with her Mami’s vest as they ywalk into the kitchen. The coffee making process didn’t take too long as Val watched from where she was perched on the counter. 

“Juice?” Val asked as she stared at the fridge, Alexia pulled out the bottle of orange juice and put some in Val’s sippy cup. Val cheered when she was handed her cup, and she nearly downed the whole thing in one before a playful warning from her Mami. When Alexia collected her daughter from the counter, she knew Val was starting to get a little tired because she was considerably clingier that she had previously been. 

Alexia saw down on the couch before settling Val on her chest. Val’s little hand bunched Alexia’s vest as she tucked her face into her Mami’s neck. Val was soothed by her Mami’s warm hand gently stroking her back and holding her even closer. Alexia pressed soft kisses to her hairline as she flicked through the channels, finally landing on one of the cartoons her daughters seemed to like. 

Alexia didn’t even hear footsteps until her 12-year-old was standing right in front of her with a sleepy smile. “Hola Mami.” She rasped out as she sat down next to the pair. Alexia wrapped her free arm around her eldest as she pressed a series of kisses against her cheek. “Bon dia, mi vida.” 

Val peeled out from her hiding place as she peered up at Isabella, reaching out to give her sister a hug before settling back against Alexia’s chest. A half an hour passed before Alexia glanced at the clock, going back and forth about whether to start waking you or not knowing that although the rest would do you good, your back could get sore from lying down for too long. 

Val had dozed off into a light sleep which made it all the more difficult for Alexia to get up. She lightly grabbed the little hand that was clinging onto her vest and slowly detached it before gently manoeuvring her to lie down on the couch. Alexia cooed gently at the sight of her youngest, brushing away the flyaways off her tanned face and placing a feather light kiss to her forehead. 

She made eye contact with her eldest who didn’t even need to be told what was happening she could just always seem to read her Mami’s mind. Alexia gave Isabella a kiss of her own before running up the stairs and into your shared room. You were sound a sleep but to Alexia’s utter surprise, you weren’t alone. 

Emilia was laying next to you, a small arm placed over your stomach in a protective manner. Emilia didn’t even notice her Mami was in the room, far too busy making sure her baby sister and her Mama were okay. Alexia made her way over to her side of the bed before sliding in under the covers making the small blonde jump. 

Emilia giggled quietly as she was pulled into her Mami’s strong arms and tickled gently. She playfully smacked her Mami’s chest as fingers dug into her ribs for the third time. Alexia grabbed Mr. Bear from the clutches of her daughter before tickling him too making Emilia lunge at her. 

“I think Mr. Bear prefers me.” Alexia stated as she held the stuffed bear over her head. Emilia scoffed and crossed her arms, sending her Mami a glare so like your’s that Alexia would’ve believed it was you in front of her.  “Mr. Bear, Mami, loves me the most and I love him the most.” Alexia hummed quietly as she looked at the bear, “I agree Mr. Bear might be loved the most, but he does not love you the most.” Emilia opens her mouth to argue before Alexia cups her freckle cheeks softly, “Because I love you more than anything in the whole wide world.” 

Emilia’s smile lights up the whole room as she wraps her arms around her Mami’s neck, kissing her cheek softly as she does so. “I love you too Mami.” Emilia whispers as if it was a secret, “Even more than Mr. Bear?” Alecia asks as she tucks the bear into her daughter's neck. Emilia pulls back softly as she placed her hands over her teddy’s ears, “Much more than Mr. Bear.”  

Alexia gave the teddy a victorious look before holding the back of her daughter’s head to bring her closer. “Were you looking after Mama?” She feels Emilia’s head move in a nod as she rolls out of her embrace and lands onto the floor with grace she learned from gymnastics. “She needs all the rest she can get until baby comes.” Emilia sites off something that her Mami had been telling her since she found out she was having another little sister. 

“It’s probably time to wake her anyway princesa.” Alexia tells her as she gets to her feet and makes her way over to your side of the bed. Her fingers thread through your hair softly as she slowly coaxes you awake. Your met with her hazel eyes as you finally come to the land of living, drearily blinking up at the Catalonian before smiling softly and cupping her cheek. 

Alexia softly joins your hands before bringing it up to place an adoring kiss to the back of it. “Bon dia mi amor.” You hum lovingly at the purr of her accent as you sit up with the help of her strong hands. “Good morning Meels” You coo as she shuffled her way to stand by her Mami’s legs. Alexia smiles down, absolutely infatuated with the little girl standing on her toes. You feel that pang of pure love fills every ounce of your body like you always did whenever you saw your wife with the girls. You never doubted that Alexia would the greatest mother of all time, but it didn’t really hit you until Isabella came into the world. Alexia held each of her little girls as if she would die if she ever had to be apart from them even for second. 

“Are you feeling okay Mama?” Emilia snapped you out of your bubble of bliss bringing you back into your equally incredible reality as she felt your forehead just like her Mami taught her. You caught her hand and pressed a kiss to it before reassuring her that you were perfect. Alexia held a handout for you to take as Emilia moved down the bed slightly to mirror her Mami. You laughed gently and took both of their hands as they guided you out of bed. You winced, your ankles were so swollen that it hurt to stand on them and your back absolutely killed. 

“Easy mi amor, relax I’m right here.” Alexia gently reminded as she took most of your weight, you sighed against her shoulder before making a move for the door. It was a very slow process, but you did eventually get to the door, you were severely out of breath, and you leaned against the sturdy frame of you wife once again. Emilia made sure that every door between you and downstairs were open as she waited at the bottom of the stairs just in case. 

“Let me carry you cariño.” Alexia whispered, hating when any part of you was in pain. “Alé I’m nine months pregnant and you are retired, you will break your back.” You sternly told her as you gripped onto the banister and slowly descended. Alexia grumbled beside you as you made you way down, “I still go to the gym.” You laugh slightly as you felt her tense her forearm against your hand, “Don’t get me wrong baby, you’re probably even stronger now but I need you to be able to pick up our girls.” That seemed to please your wife as she smiled charmingly at you. You sighed in pure relief when you were met with Emilia at the bottom of the stairs. 

“You made it!” Emilia wrapped her arms and legs around one of her Mami’s legs like a koala. Alexia picked her up effortlessly and placed her on her back as she led you to the sitting room. Before you could get there though Emilia gasped, “Mr Bear is still upstairs!” 

She let go of her Mami’s neck and landed on her feet giving Alexia and absolute heart attack in the process. “Meels we have talked about not doing that anymore.” It fell on deaf ears as she raced up the stairs to grab her teddy. 

“Sign her up for gymnastics they said, it’ll be fun they said.” The Spaniard mumbled as you entered the living room. Val had woken up at some point and was cuddled up in her favourite blanket as her favourite cartoons played. Her hair was a mess, but it was the absolute cutest sight to you and Alexia. Her hazel eyes lit up at the sight of you as she kneeled up on the couch babbling something in her sleepy state. 

“Morning baby.” You greet her with a kiss to her freckled cheek, “Were you being good for Mami?” Val nods as she jumps into her Mami’s arms to prove her point, “Mami’s best girl!” Val giggles as she clings onto her mother. “Sí, my best girl.” 

“I heard that!” Emilia shouted from upstairs as she somehow teleported back into the room with her stuffed bear in tow. Alecia gave her a sheepish smile as Emilia glared at her. “I need to sit down now.” You groan out as your back protests to the weight of your stomach. Alexia and Emilia jump into action, helping you sit down so your comfortable while Alexia places Val beside you. She cuddles up to you, small hand resting on your bump as she leans her head against your side. 

“Are you excited to meet your baby sister?” You asked softly, combing your hand through her brown hair. “I can’t wait Mama!” Alexia can’t help but playfully pinch her daughters' cheeks as she settles down on the other side of you. Emilia plops herself down on top of her Mami and pulls the blanket up to her neck. Alexia’s arms are quickly occupied, one wrapped around you and the other around Emilia as she kisses her cheek softly.

Isabella makes her entrance with a cup of coffee in one hand and a heat pack in the other. You could nearly cry with relief when she hands them to you, “Is you are saving my life right now, thank you baby.” You kiss her cheek and usher her to take a seat on the couch you are all occupying. You tilt your head up to meet your wife’s eyes before she leaned down to press a kiss to your awaiting lips, “Te amo mi amor.” She whispers against your lips before kissing them once more. You sigh happily before leaning your head against her strong shoulder, content with your little family.

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagines #alexia putellas #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso #alexia's favourite girls

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (28/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Your pillow is comfortable - just like Charles' lap.

Warnings: 18+ (dry humping, mentions of sex), fluff, tiny bit of angst, Lando is a little shit

Word Count: 4.5k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: since you were all so patient with me - you deserve this. I hope you're sat, because y/n definitely is. feedback is appreciated!

"Good morning, mon amour," Charles whispers softly in your ear before you feel a faint puff of air against your cheek. Something soft and warm presses gently against your temple. "It's still quite early. You can go back to sleep if you want to." He rests his chin on your shoulder and you feel his chest against your back. "I'd like to go jogging, if that's okay with you."

Sleepy - and confused - you snuggle further into your comfy pillow. It's still dark in the room, but through the window you can already see the horizon changing color and announcing a new day. You yawn tiredly and close your eyes again. "You're waking me up to tell me you're going jogging? Are you crazy? Couldn't you have just written me a note or a text?"

Charles exhales through his nose. "I'm sorry, chérie. There was no other way. I have an appointment with my trainer and I'm already late." He gently puts his hand on your bare hip, where the shirt has ridden up and exposed a sliver of your skin. "All you have to do is let go of my arm and then I'll be gone and you can go back to sleep."

Your pillow moves almost imperceptibly beneath you and you raise your head to examine it, puzzled. You realize that you have been lying on Charles' arm and your hand has found its place on his forearm. You suppress a smile as you lie back down and press your cheek into the soft inside of his upper arm. "Nope. Unfortunately not possible. I'm afraid your arm is too comfortable for me to let you go right now."

Charles's fingers press a little harder into your hip, but his arm stays in place. "I won't be long. I promise." 

Drowsy and not fully conscious, you turn in his arms and lift your leg, only to wrap it around his waist and press yourself against him. The tip of your nose touches his bare chest. "You said yesterday that we would continue to share a bed so that I could sleep better. So you have no choice but to stay here with me." As you absentmindedly kiss his chest and press your hip against yours, you feel warm.

Charles laughs softly, but doesn't disagree with you. Instead, his arms wrap around you a little tighter. The hand that was on your hip a moment ago slides up your spine under your shirt. His fingertips dance over your warm skin until his hand rests gently on the nape of your neck, where it lingers lightly. "As far back as I can remember, I said I'd hold you in my arms if it meant you'd sleep better."

You gently lift your head from his chest so that you can look at him. Charles' eyes are closed, but a slight smile pulls the corners of his mouth upwards. "You do realize that you're digging yourself in deeper, don't you?"

He slowly opens his eyes and looks down at you. Without hesitation, he rolls you onto your back. You feel his weight on top of you as his hand disappears from your neck and rests against your thigh, keeping your leg wrapped around his waist. "How silly. Looks like I've lost now." 

His weight on you, his warm breath on your face and his fingertips disappearing under the hem of your shorts cloud your thoughts. You look at him from under your eyelashes and have to swallow as his gaze darts from your eyes to your mouth and back up again. "How silly."

He opens his mouth slightly and he's so close to you that you can make out the different shades of green in his irises despite the darkness. His beard shades his beautiful face and you want to rub your cheek against it. Or feel the stubble on your thighs. Or - 

Charles leans so far down towards you that the tips of your noses touch. As he licks his lips, you think you can feel his tongue on your mouth. But maybe you're just too tired and imagining it. "I'd love to stay in this bed with you forever," Charles whispers, and as his fingers slide a little higher under your shorts, almost touching the curve of your ass, you involuntarily arch up towards him. Just as you think you can feel the hardness of his abdomen, he pushes himself off the bed with his other hand and pulls away. "But I really need to go jogging." A brief moment later, he stands in front of the bed and scratches the back of his neck. "I thought I might go grocery shopping afterwards. Just text me if you think of anything else you might need." 

Distracted by the warmth in your lower belly, you stare at him as he slips into the sports shorts you were wearing yesterday morning. His smell clings to you and you can't think straight as he sits down on the edge of the bed to pull white tennis socks over his feet. You push the covers off you and crawl across the bed to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Your hands rest on his warm chest. "You're mean, Charles." You brush a kiss on the soft skin under his ear and can feel his heart skip a beat.

He pauses in his movement. "You haven't called me that in days." He tilts his head a little so he can look at you. 

Puzzled, you return his gaze. "What do you mean? I always call you Charles."

Slowly, his fingers wrap around your wrists so that he can wriggle out of your embrace. But only so that his arm can wrap around your waist and he can pull you onto his lap. As you sit astride his thighs, he cups your chin with his thumb and forefinger so you have no choice but to look at him. 

He shakes his head slightly. "You called me Charles. English pronunciation. You've been calling me Charles since we had dinner with the others the other night."

You raise an eyebrow and squirm on his legs under his unyielding gaze. "And what did I call you now?"

"Sharl. French pronunciation." A glint sparkles in his eyes. 

"Is that good? Or bad?" you ask unknowingly and innocently, running your fingers through the short hair on the back of his neck. 

"What do you think?" His voice is no more than a whisper as his other arm wraps around your back and pulls you completely onto his lap so that you can barely move. Once again, his fingers slip just below the hem of your pajama shorts, fingertips almost digging into your flesh as he presses your crotch against his noticeable bulge. So hard that you might end up with bruises on your hips. But you don't care. You gasp in response. "Do I like this or not?"

The warmth that was previously spread throughout your body moves south, and you feel your arousal pooling in your shorts. The word friendship flashes faintly in your mind, but as Charles gently but firmly moves you over his hard-on and a low moan escapes his throat, you can't help but block it out completely. 

"Charles," you almost whine as you rock your hips back and forth without a thought and the tip of his brief-clad cock nudges against your clit. Electricity flashes through your veins and your skin burns where Charles touches you and you close your eyes, flushed with pleasure. 

"Nuh-uh." Charles's hand moves from your chin to the column of your throat and rests just at the base of your neck. "Look at me, mon amour." His voice is deep and smoky as he makes you look into his eyes. Through half-opened eyes and with his mouth open, he grinds you over his boner, his breath stumbling and warming your face as you can do nothing but surrender to the sensation. 

Never in your life have you desired someone as much as Charles. Charles, exhaling as if relieved that he can release some tension, while your fingers dig into his shoulder blades to make sure he doesn't stop. The hem of your pyjamas and his boxer shorts rub so deliciously against your bundle of nerves and you moan shamelessly as the gorgeous man beneath you bites his lower lip, wishing it was yours he was nibbling on. 

"Charles, please," you beg, even though you don't know what for. You want his fingers on your throat, his mouth on yours. You want to feel how soft his lips are as he slides his cock home until you fall apart on him. You want to hear him say how good you feel, how much he desires you and that he lo-

"Fuck," Charles snaps you out of your thoughts, and before you can realize it, he releases his arm from your body and leans to the side, where his phone is on the edge of the bed, ringing. 

When you see the panic in his eyes, you quickly slide off his lap and cover yourself with the blanket again. All of a sudden you feel vulnerable and naked, even though you're still wearing the shirt and shorts. You interlace your fingers in your lap. 

"I'm sorry, Andrea." Charles tucks his cell phone between his ear and shoulder as he slips on the turquoise Puma shirt you were wearing yesterday morning. He lifts the hem once and smells it, and for a brief moment his eyes flicker to you before he hurries out of the room, leaving you alone in the bedroom. You hear him continuing to talk in the hallway.

Startled and a little repulsed, you sit on the bed. How did you let it get this far? Charles is your best friend - a fact you told Joris and which was later confirmed to you in person by your roommate. 

So why did you just fall over each other like teenagers who can't keep their hands off each other when no one is looking? Why did you allow yourselves to dry hump each other when you are nothing more than friends? Why did everything Charles did and said turn you on so much that the inside of your thighs are sticky with your arousal? And why did it feel so damn right?

You run your hand through your tousled hair. You've never felt anything like you have in the last few minutes. You've never desired someone as much as the man whose touch made you turn to putty in his hands. As if your brain had been switched off, you gave yourself to him without thinking about what the consequences might be. 

What would happen now? Would Charles still talk to you? Would you talk about it? Would it happen again? 

Before you can think about it any more, Charles enters the bedroom again. His feet are now in sneakers and he has put on a jacket over his shirt. When he sees you sitting at the head of the bed, the comforter thrown over you and with big, worried eyes, his gaze softens. He crosses the room in three steps and sits on the edge of the bed with you before reaching for yours with one hand and intertwining your fingers. 

"We're okay, aren't we?" he asks gently, lifting your chin with his free hand as you try to avoid his gaze. When you look at him, the sparkle from a moment ago is still there. "I - I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let it get this far. We're friends and the last thing I want is to lose you over this." He almost stumbles over his words when you don't say anything back. "We're still friends, aren't we?" You can see tears gathering on the line of his eyelashes. 

You are so relieved that you want to hug him. You smile at him. "Of course we're friends, Charles. Best friends," you assure him, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine. "There's nothing that could change that."

The man in front of you blinks away the tears and returns your smile before squeezing your hand twice. "I really have to go now. Like I said, if you need anything from the supermarket, please text me. Then I can pick it up for you." He releases his hand from yours and stands up from the bed. "See you later." He leans forward a tiny bit and you can practically see the gears in his brain turning until he merely smiles at you and then disappears. As the apartment door slams shut behind him, you exhale. 

Everything's fine between you, you tell yourself as you unplug your phone from the charger and glance at the clock. 9:30 am. You could go back to bed and sleep, but as you lay your head on the pillow, the smell of last night's smoke creeps into your nose. The whole bed smells like a campfire, and your skin and hair smell like you've been wallowing in ashes, so you decide to wash the sheets and jump in the shower. 

The washing machine makes a gentle whirring sound as you switch it on and then head to the fridge to prepare yourself a little breakfast. However, when you realize that there is nothing in the fridge that would be suitable, you hang your head in resignation. Apparently, the ingredients Charles used for the pancakes yesterday were the very last leftovers, so the fridge is empty apart from a pickle jar and a few bottles of water. 

Without further ado, you shoot Charles a text to ask him to bring something for breakfast before you gather your bathroom utensils from your suitcase in the bedroom, undress in the bathroom and set the water in the shower to the right temperature. Since you have some time before Charles returns from his jog and the supermarket, you take all the time in the world. You shampoo your hair and rinse it thoroughly before leaving a generous amount of conditioner in your hair. Meanwhile, you exfoliate your body, shave carefully - and actually manage not to cut your knuckles. The lavender and vanilla shower gel soothes your frayed nerves, while you keep telling yourself that everything is fine between you and Charles, like you talked about. 

You banish the feeling that his every touch felt good and right to the back of your mind and as you turn off the water and wrap yourself in a soft towel, it's almost as if nothing ever happened between you. 

You focus on the fact that you have to look good today, because you are invited to Charles' mother's for dinner later, so you spend a lot of time taming your hair and picking out a nice outfit. You decide on a pair of dark jeans and a light blouse and button up the last button as your cell phone beeps on the kitchen island. 

Charles: No problem. I think I'll be home in an hour. It'll be too late for a proper breakfast then, but how about some fruit and yogurt?

And indeed. It's now just after 12 o'clock and the washing machine seems to be doing its last spin cycle, because its humming gets louder before it goes quiet and only beeps a few times. You quickly put the wet bed sheets in the dryer before answering Charles.

You: You're the best. See you soon.

While you wait for your roommate to come home, you rummage through the things Kika picked out yesterday and scatter them around the apartment. You put the fake plants on the windowsill in your room and place a vase on the worktop in the kitchen. Then grab some picture frames and stand in the hallway to find out which places on the wall are suitable for which frame. Charles is sure to have enough beautiful photos from all over the world to decorate your home, because unfortunately you don't yet have any pictures together that you could hang on the wall. But that's okay. After all, you've only been friends for a few days. 

When the front door opens a short time later, two men are standing opposite you, one of whom - thank God - is Charles. When he sees you, a smile spreads across his face. 

"We've done some shopping," he explains, lifting the bags he's holding in his hands. Then he looks at the man next to him. "This is Andrea, by the way, my personal trainer and close friend." He walks towards you and briefly looks you up and down. "You look good," he says casually as he walks past you and glances over his shoulder. "Come on, Andrea. The stuff needs to go in the fridge. 

"Don't stress me out like that," the man in front of you replies, rolling his eyes in an annoyed manner. "I'm Andrea, nice to meet you." He places one of his bags on the floor before holding out his hand to you. 

You introduce yourself to him too and shake his hand. " Likewise. I wasn't expecting you to bring half the supermarket with you," you joke, reaching for the bag he's put down before you both head towards the kitchen. 

"Me neither," Andrea replies, shrugging her shoulders. "Charles insisted because he didn't want you to want for anything. Now that you live here too."

"Andrea," Charles warns his friend as he puts the milk and eggs in the fridge. 

"Don't play pretend," he defends himself and puts his bag down on the worktop. "I'm just repeating what you said." He takes your plastic bag from you and puts it on the worktop too. "I'll leave you two alone then. After all, you've got a lot to do today." He turns in your direction and smiles at you before planting a kiss on your cheek left and right. "It was nice meeting you, but I'm afraid I have to go. But I'm sure we'll be seeing more of each other."

"I guess so."

He nods briefly, turning to your roommate. "And you let me know about the trip. Then I can arrange everything."

Charles, who is putting food in the fridge with a concentration as if he were taking part in a Tetris competition, waves his hand once in the direction of his trainer. "I will. Ciao!"

Andrea leaves your apartment as quickly as he had arrived, and as the door slams shut behind him, you turn to your friend. "A trip? Where are you off to?"

"I have to go through a training camp to prepare for next season. But I'll tell you about that later." After he's put everything away neatly, he closes the fridge and turns in your direction. "I've just spoken to my mother on the phone. Dinner will be around seven, but we can come over before that, before my brothers show up, if you don't mind." He grabs a glass from the cupboard and pours himself some water before taking a big gulp. "So I'd just jump in the shower and get ready. And then we can go as soon as you're ready."

You smile at him. "All right. Do you still want to eat something small? Then I could cut up some fruit and prepare some yoghurt if you like," you offer. 

He nods thankfully to you before pulling his shirt over his back and off his upper body in one fluid motion. The workout has made his muscles look even more defined than usual. Not that you waste much time staring at his naked torso. 

"That would be nice. I'll just jump in the shower," he says before disappearing into the bathroom. As he turns on the shower, you hear the water hitting the floor. 

You're a little surprised that your little session doesn't seem to be having any effect. The worries you had that the atmosphere between you might now be strained fizzle out and the only thing that remains is the bitter aftertaste that Charles doesn't seem to be bothered by the fact that you were dry humping as friends and there was a possibility that your friendship had come to an end. 

Does it really not affect him that you were both playing with fire a few hours ago? Or is he just good at covering it up and acting as if nothing had happened?

But when you remember how upset he was sitting next to you on the bed afterwards, with tears in his eyes for fear of losing you as a friend, the negative thoughts disappear from your mind. He probably wants to put the whole thing behind him because it would really bother him if you were no longer friends. 

And since you feel the same way, you cut up some fruit without giving it a second thought until your cell phone, which is lying on the kitchen island in front of you, vibrates. An incoming Facetime call from - Lando? 

Why is he calling you? And especially on Facetime? Has something happened to him? Does he need help?

You quickly put the knife aside and wipe your hands on a kitchen towel before answering the call. When the British man's face appears on your screen, you breathe a sigh of relief. He's apparently lying on the couch at home, the hood of his hoodie pulled up over his curls and a broad grin adorning his face. 

"Hi, Lando," you greet him and lean your phone against the vase so that you can continue preparing the fruit. "What can I do for you?"

"Is Charles with you?" he asks as you turn around and take two bowls from the cupboard behind you to divide the fruit halfway between them. 

"He's in the shower," you reply, tilting your head. " Why? Did something happen?"

"No, everything's fine," he says and smiles. "I was just trying to reach him on his cell phone. But when he is taking a shower, it's obvious that he won't answer." 

"'Who's not answering?" you hear Charles say as he leaves the bathroom wrapped in a towel. Single drops of water snake across his chest and down the ridges of his abs before disappearing into the fabric of the towel, which hangs quite low on his hips. You have to swallow briefly and just point at your cell phone. When Charles comes into Lando's field of vision, he nods briefly. "Sorry, I was in the shower. Have you tried to call me?"

Lando, blinking silently at the camera, nods. "Uh, yeah. I wanted to invite you both to a party. After Christmas." He struggles to suppress a smile, and even though the screen is so small, you can see his gaze jump from Charles to you. "My friend Martin is coming here to DJ at a club. If you're up for it, you're both welcome to come."

Charles, who is standing to the side behind you, rests his chin on your shoulder. After this morning, you didn't expect to find Charles back in your personal space so quickly. Whether he realizes you're holding your breath, you don't know. "I don't see what's wrong with that, do you?" The question is directed at you. As you shake your head weakly, your roommate smiles at the camera and puts his hand on your hip. "Then we're definitely in." Suddenly, you feel Charles' lips on your temple as he presses a gentle kiss to your skin. "I'm just going to get ready." With that, he disappears from Lando's sight and, as he enters your bedroom, from yours too.

The way Lando's eyes widen briefly doesn't escape you. "Great. Then I'll put you on the guest list and send you the details." As your gaze shifts from your room back to the Brit, Lando looks back at you with a grin that almost reaches his ears. 

"Lando," you warn him in the same tone Charles just used with Andrea. "Leave it alone."

"I didn't say anything," he defends himself, but the grin doesn't disappear from his face. You'd love to wipe it off his cheek. "So, are you two - ?"

You roll your eyes. "We're friends, Lando. Nothing more, nothing less," you explain to him, but you seem to be falling on deaf ears, because the Brit doesn't seem to believe a word you're saying. 

"Friends with benefits? Or why did Charles just behave like that?"

"What do you mean, like that?" you ask him, tilting your head in confusion. To keep your hands busy, you fill the bowls of fruit with yogurt and add some sweetener before stirring everything. 

"So possessive. So jealous," he explains, as if it's no big deal. Which it certainly wouldn't have been if it hadn't been for this morning's action. 

"You don't know what you're talking about," you retort snappishly, your mouth forming a thin line. "Sorry, that's not what I meant."

"It's all cool. But if you get married, I'll be the guest of honor as matchmaker," he replies, before holding his phone close to his face and grinning broadly at the camera. "And then I'll give a speech about how stupid you both were at the beginning because you didn't want to admit that you were meant to be together."

When you hear Charles' footsteps in the hallway, you quickly reach for your cell phone. "Lando."

"I'm just saying, friends don't look at each other the way you look at him. And that friends don't act as possessive as he does." He raises his free hand, puts his thumb and forefinger together before pulling it over his mouth and pretending to seal his lips with it. "I'm not saying anything more about it."

"Who says no more to what?" Charles asks as he enters the kitchen. 

"Nobody to anything anymore. Bye, Lando," you quickly say goodbye and end the Facetime call, knowing full well that you're sure to get a few more messages from the Brit lovingly mocking you. 

"Oh-kay." Charles sits down opposite you at the kitchen islands and grabs one of the yogurt bowls. You watch him as he shoves spoonful after spoonful into his mouth. "Everything all right?"

"Everything's fine," you reply with a sugary smile and start spooning up your yoghurt too. "I'm just nervous about meeting your mom. I hope she'll like me," you try to change the subject. 

"She definitely will," your flatmate tries to reassure you. "Just be yourself and then she'll love you. And so will my brothers." He reaches across the worktop for your hand and squeezes it twice. "Loving you is easier than you might think."

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc prompt #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc fluff #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #charles leclerc x yn #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #lando norris

[joelmillerisapunk]

Beach Daddy III. I can do it with a broken heart

Rich daddy!Joel x F!reader

Series Masterlist • Masterlist

Wordcount: 12,532

Summary: After a day of emotional turmoil, you find solace in a chance encounter with Joel, who invites you to his secret deck.

Warnings: 18+, Joel and reader get closer, Todd does fuckboy things, reader really goes through it in this one, it's like a lil baby soap opera up in here for everyone.

Notes: Welcome, welcome, dear friends. Sorry this is so long. I never know where to end the chapters 😂 so I just add more. Your comments, asks, and reblogs are always so welcome! I appreciate everyone who's in this with me.

You walk out of Amorebelle with light pink clothing bags weighing down each arm, wearing a new outfit. You can't remember a time when you've gotten this many new clothes at once. You also find it hard to wrap your head around the fact that these clothes cost more than you make in an entire year.

The saleswomen Jane and McKenzie won't let you look at the price tags, but as they're ringing up your picks, you catch a glimpse of the total on the computer screen. You can't help but wonder how you'll ever be able to pay Joel back for this shopping trip. 

You also can't help but wonder how often he does this for women.

Jane, who's worked at the shop the longest, had recognized him when you walked in the door. You don't have time to contemplate this because you notice a maid you recognize from the yacht. She makes her way to you and starts relieving you of your bags. You make sure to keep the bag with your dress and shoes for the evening.

"Miss, I was told to take these to your room on the ship while you are at your appointment," the maid tells you.

"What appointment?" you ask her, confused.

"You have an appointment at the salon three stores up.”

"Did Joel set this up for me?" you ask, feeling even more surprised.

"Yes, ma'am," the maid says with a smile.

You're glad that the boutique you've been shopping in has a shower where you're able to rinse off before this appointment. They must be used to sandy beachgoers coming in right before a night out.

You make your way up the street and stop at the salon with floor-to-ceiling glass windows. From the outside, you can see the row of chairs, each in front of its own mirror.

You walk in, and the man at the front desk assures you that you do, in fact, have an appointment, full hair, and makeup, which is all prepaid.

The receptionist walks you back to your stylist, an attractive man whose hair color matches yours. "What do you have in mind today, sweetheart," your stylist asks you.

"I'm honestly not sure. Can I leave it up to you?" you ask.

"That's my favorite request," he says as he runs his fingers through your hair. "Your natural coloring is gorgeous, obviously, I am not going to touch that. So, I'm thinking a quick trim and a blowout."

He has your hair and makeup done within an hour, and you barely recognize yourself in the mirror. You're amazed that your hair is perfectly smooth, with not a single strand of frizz to be found. You gently run your fingers through your hair and can't believe how soft it is.

"What do you think?" the stylist asks you. He hands you a small mirror and turns you in the chair so you can get a better view of the back of your hair.

"Is this really my hair?" you ask, holding up the smaller mirror.

"Of course, sweetheart. You look amazing," he says with a smile.

"I didn't know I could love my hair this much.” You admit.

"So, go enjoy it!" he says with a huge smile.

"I will. I love it. Thank you so much," you say enthusiastically.

You walk out of the salon's front door in your midnight blue silk dress with shining hair, and you feel amazing. For the first time since the breakup, you feel like you can do a whole lot better than Todd.

"All I can say is wow," says Joel. He's been waiting for you outside of the salon.

"I hardly recognize myself," you say with a laugh.

"I wasn't commenting on the dress or your hair. I was impressed by your confidence. It looks good on you darlin," Joel says, looking you up and down unabashedly.

You feel your cheeks get hot. You don't understand how Joel always says exactly what you need to hear.

"But, I do have to admit I was right about that dress; it does look amazing on you," Joel says with a wink.

"I don't know how to thank you–" but Joel cuts you off before you can finish thanking him.

"Please, you don't need to finish what you were about to say. You deserved it. Simple as that."

"Okay," you say with a smile. "Well, then I just want you to know that today has been the best day I have had in a long time." You like that Joel isn't the kind of man who gives gifts because he likes the praise that follows.

"The restaurant is just a few blocks over. I can call for a ride," he says, pulling out his phone.

"Yeah, we could get a ride over," you say and grab his phone. "But, it's such a beautiful night; why don't we walk?" It is a beautiful night, but if you're being honest with yourself, you want to walk to soak up as much time alone with Joel as you can.

Joel smiles and offers you his arm. You notice his new suit jacket goes perfectly with your new dress. You bite your lip to keep yourself from asking if he picked it on purpose, but you secretly hope he had.

"This town is beautiful; I'm surprised that it isn't busier," you say, looking up at the bistro lights strung across the streets in a zig-zag pattern. The light is just barely fading, and the cool breeze catches the slit in your dress, making the end lightly flutter around your ankles as you walk.

"It is a well-kept secret," Joel says.

"For the rich and famous?" you ask.

"Well, kinda, but the locals who live here are what make this place so amazing. The restaurant we’re headed to has some of the best food I've ever eaten. But the chef is just a local man who perfected his art form. Never went to culinary school; just cooked because he loved it."

"How do you know all that about him?" you ask.

"My family has vacationed here for as long as I can remember. When I got tired of listening to my parents argue, I would go exploring the island. I’ve gotten to know a lot of the locals over the years," he explains.

You walk up to a building with a large illuminated sign reading The Coastal Hibiscus. The restaurant has a large deck area with a perfect view of the ocean. As you make your way up the front steps, you drop your hand from Joel's arm, not wanting Sarah to get the wrong idea.

You arrive at the restaurant last, finding the entire party already seated. As you enter, the conversation slows, and Todd's gaze locks onto you, a sense of satisfaction washing over you from the look on his face.

Only two seats remain, so you sit between Alison and Hudson. Joel takes a seat directly across from you, next to his daughter.

"I love that dress on you, by the way." Alison says with a little smile.

"Thanks," you reply as the waiter distributes menus.

"Where did you take off to? I haven't seen you since you went with Sarah's dad to find the dolphins," Alison asks.

"Oh, we never found them, so we just drove around for a long time looking for them," you lie, staring intently at the menu. You don't want to share the details of the intimate day you spent with Joel.

"That's too bad," Alison says, joining the group's conversation about where everyone plans to 'winter' that year.

You continue to look at your menu, overwhelmed by the number of choices. Finally, you look up to see Joel staring at you. You silently mouth 'What should I get?' across the table.

He smiles at you and mouths back 'The lobster.'

When the food arrives, you're grateful for his suggestion. His choice is amazing; the lobster is cooked so well that it feels like it melts in your mouth.

You sit peacefully sipping a glass of wine and listening to the group's conversation, stealing glances at Joel. The waiter brings around dessert menus, and you order a slice of cheesecake, one of your favorites.

A few minutes later, the waiter sets a piece of cheesecake in front of you, and placed delicately in the whipped cream is a stunning cushion cut diamond engagement ring. Your breath catches in your throat, and your heart stops. As you try to make sense of what's happening, you hear Todd whisper angrily to the waiter, "No, not her!"

No one seems to notice the mix-up, and a few seconds later, the engagement ring cheesecake is placed in front of Sarah instead. Her small squeak alerts the rest of the table to what's going on.

"Sarah, will you make me the luckiest man in the world? Will you marry me," Todd says, down on one knee next to Sarah.

"Of course, I will." Sarah immediately answers. She jumps up and hugs Todd, all the while letting out ear-piercing squeals.

You look across the table and see Joel's eyes locked on you. Did he see them place the ring in front of you and your reaction to it? 

The restaurant feels like it's closing in around you. You have to get out. You quietly slide your chair away from the table, leaving your ringless cheesecake untouched, and walk out into the open air. You start walking toward the ocean; the water has turned from a vibrant blue to an ominous black. The glassy surface reflects the light of the moon, which sits alone in the sea of darkness. 

You continue walking, your feet aching in the heels, but to your relief, you recognize the yacht docked in a nearby marina. The crew must have sailed over to this marina to drop off the rest of the group while Joel and you were in the shops. So you make your way towards it. However, even before you reach the docks, the tears have already started falling down your face. You wipe them away quickly, not wanting to stain your new dress. The sound of footsteps behind you has you hurrying to the yacht. Whoever is following you, you do not want to speak to them–not now.

Not even if it's Joel.

—

 "Todd, I'm so glad we finally get to spend some time together. It seems like I barely get to see you anymore. I'm so sorry I've been so busy," you said, smiling at your fantastic boyfriend. You really missed him, but with graduation so close, you had to put all of your efforts into studying.

"I'm glad you finally found some time for me," Todd said in a flat tone. You guessed you deserved that, but the comment still stung.

"Where do you want to go eat? I heard there’s a great new sushi place just a few blocks over," you said, trying to switch the mood to a more positive one.

"Yeah, that works," Todd muttered as he pulled out his phone to send a text.

You started walking over, but you couldn't help but feel like something was off, and you relaxed as Todd's fingers locked with yours.

"So, how’s work going?" you asked. Todd had graduated with his Bachelor's degree the year before and started working for his dad's financial firm after that.

"It's been great. You would not believe some of the people I help with their investments. Every single one of them was a millionaire before they were thirty. That is going to be me; just you wait."

"I know you will be, Todd," you said as the hostess showed you to your table. "If anyone can make it happen, you will."

"It wouldn't hurt to have a rich wife. Then, we'd become millionaires together," Todd said and smiled at you. He had always been so proud of the fact that you were working towards being a lawyer. You were so relieved that he recognized your time studying was for your future together.

The waiter walked over to your table and asked if you were ready to order. Todd ordered multiple plates of sushi, and then the waiter turned to you.

"I'll have an order of the California rolls and a water," you handed the menu back to the waiter and looked up to see Todd with a strange expression on his face.

"California rolls?" Todd asked as the waiter walked away.

"It's the best deal on the menu. I'm saving for my books. I don't know if I’ll be able to qualify for another loan," you said, slightly defensive. You knew Todd hated how cheap you were, but you had to be if you were going to be able to afford to put yourself through school. You knew he didn't understand; his dad paid for his education.

Todd pulled out his phone again and sent another text. You tried not to let it bother you; it was probably something for work.

You spent the rest of dinner talking about the different investments Todd was making on others' behalf and how one of his clients had just purchased their first private island.

"I'm going to run to the restroom before we head out," Todd said and got up, not realizing he had left his phone sitting face up on the table.

As soon as he walked away, his screen lit up with a text message. All you could see from where you sat was the contact name, 'Her.' Your heart sank.

The screen went black, and you took a deep breath. Todd walked back from the restroom, smiling at you.

"You ready to go?" he asked you as he made it to your table.

"Absolutely."

"Why don't we catch a movie?" Todd asked, grabbing your hand again as you walked out of the restaurant.

"Sure. What do you want to go see?”

—

You slam the door of your room and rest your back against it, catching your breath. You had to get away from whoever was following you out of the restaurant. You can't face anyone after witnessing Todd's engagement to someone else. You take a few minutes to catch your breath, and when a soft knock on the door vibrates your back, you ignore it. The person doesn't knock again.

Your dress clings to your sweaty body, and you want nothing more than to take it off. You slip off the midnight blue silk gown and drape it over the chair in front of the vanity. Noticing the pink garment bags already hung neatly in your closet, you secretly wish that you fit in this world, this world of money. But you know deep down that you don't.

You walk past all of the new clothes and throw back on your usual attire of shorts and a T-shirt; you can't get comfortable in the fancy clothes. You make your way over to your bed and throw yourself on the comforter. Burying your face in the pillow and let the tears come. You cry until your eyes burn. You sit up in bed and wonder where everything went wrong with Todd and you. You had truly been in love with him. You had planned a future together, and even though he never spoke directly of marrying you, you always assumed it would happen one day. So when the waiter placed his engagement ring in front of you perched on a pillow of whipped cream, it hurt even more.

Your roommate had been suspicious of Todd cheating on you for months before you read that text. You went on pretending your relationship was stable, even though deep down, you suspected him, too, especially after the incident at the sushi restaurant.

You didn't confront him about the text until weeks later. He denied everything at first, saying it was his father's receptionist. She was a bitter older woman who was not the kind of woman you wanted to cross. He put the receptionist in his phone as 'her' as a joke.

You knew he was lying, but you were okay to keep on pretending. That was until you caught him texting 'her' again, right in front of you. Then, you exploded, and you got into your worst fight. He finally came clean that it was a woman he met at your birthday party. 

He swore he wasn't cheating and that she was just a friend. You promised that you would work it out even if he was cheating on you, but he wasn't interested in that. He was no longer interested in you. He broke up with you the very next day.

With the memories replaying in your mind, you jump out of bed and run to the balcony. You breathe in quick gasps of the cold sea air. You just realized that you had invited Sarah to your birthday party. Todd had met her there, and they had been in contact ever since. Sarah told you that she'd been dating Todd for four months, but your birthday party was eight months ago. So Todd had been pursuing Sarah for eight months while he was still pretending to be faithful to you.

'It wouldn't hurt to have a rich wife; then we'd become millionaires together.' Todd's words ring through your memories. He hadn't been talking about you becoming a lawyer and the two of you becoming wealthy together. He had been talking about marrying Sarah, an heiress. This had been his plan all along. 

This night of realization has your head hammering, and you need to calm down. So you walk back into your room, slip on your shoes, and walk out your door. You’re going to go out to the bar on the deck and make yourself a drink. The lights on the deck are already out, but you quickly realize you’re not there alone.

"Oh, Todd!" Sarah moans.

"You are so damn sexy!"

Two shadowy figures are pressed together in the pool, waves rippling around them, and you quickly realize you have just interrupted Sarah and Todd's after-engagement celebration. You immediately freeze on the spot.

Their moans grow louder, and you try to retreat before either of them sees you. Unfortunately, you don't notice the lounge chair behind you in the dark and topple over it in your rush to get away. You land flat on your back, and all the air is knocked out of your lungs.

"What the hell? Who's there?" Todd's voice yells behind you.

You pray it’s too dark for them to see or recognize you. Then, you start crawling back towards the door, and as soon as you think you are out of sight, you stand up quickly and run. Once you get through the door, you keep running down the hall, the tears stinging your eyes. You are humiliated, heartbroken, and defeated.

You get to a set of stairs and immediately start climbing as many floors as you can. You have to get as far away from the pool as possible. It’s  bad enough knowing Todd is sleeping with Sarah, possibly for eight months, but to see it first hand is too much.

You end up in front of an elevator, and just as you stop to catch your breath, the doors slide open.

"Hey darlin? Are you okay?"

It's Joel. All you want to do is to run into his arms and feel his warmth surround you. But instead, you simply nod and turn to walk away. How could you possibly explain what you just witnessed? Sarah is still his daughter.

"I don't believe you. Somethin’ is wrong. I came to check on you earlier.”

—

Joel hands you a glass of red wine, and you follow him out onto his private deck. The elevator has led up to his room, and Joel, noticing your state, invites you up.

You lean over the railing and swirl the wine in the glass.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?" Joel asks with a note of concern in his voice.

"Nothing happened; I was just tired," you reply.

"You were so tired that you ran all the way back to the yacht?" Joel asks, clearly not believing you.

You don't say anything and take a small sip of your wine.

"And in the hallway just now? You seemed pretty upset," Joel says.

"I promise, I'm fine, but thank you," you say, trying to muster up a small smile.

Joel does not look convinced, but he lets the topic go. You both stand looking over the ocean for a long time in complete silence. The yacht has left the small island, and so the waves are bubbling lazily behind the propellers.

"When do we make port again?" you ask, finally breaking the silence.

"Tomorrow," Joel replies.

"I’m gonna miss you, Joel," you say quietly.

"What are you talking about, darlin?" Joel says as his eyebrows knit together in concern.

"I'm going to catch a flight back to New York tomorrow.”

Joel stares at you for a long time after saying that you’ll be leaving when you get to port the next day. Or at least you hope you will be. You don't even know where you will be, let alone if there is an airport or a ticket home you can afford.

"I would really hate to see you go, darlin," Joel says with a serious look on his face.

"I think it's for the best," you answer softly.

"The best for you?" he asks. You stay quiet for a long time. Are you deciding what is best for you and/or running from your problems?

"I don't know… " you answer truthfully.

You take another small sip of the wine Joel had poured you and watch the liquid as you swirl it around in your glass.

"You know wine always tastes better in the sauna," Joel says, watching you.

You turn to him, "That does sound nice, but I’m sure the staff who work the spa have already gone to bed."

"Well, good thing the sauna is in my bathroom," he says as the corners of his mouth ease into a smile.

"You have a sauna in your bathroom?" you ask, impressed.

"Of course, so what do you say?"

"I'm not really dressed for a sauna," you gesture down to your shorts and T-shirt.

"I have a robe that you can borrow unless you'd rather go without." Joel winks and starts walking away to grab the robe.

"So what else do you have up here all to yourself?" you ask, liking the distraction from the mess of a night you've been through.

—

You walk through a large sitting room, a bedroom with the biggest bed you've ever seen, and then finally to the bathroom. Joel calling the tub in his bathroom a soaking tub is an understatement; it's more like a small swimming pool sunken in the middle of the floor.

"You can get changed here." Joel leads you into an extravagant walk-in closet, complete with a large vanity table and chaise lounge. He hangs a white cotton robe on a hook next to the door, making it the only garment in the empty closet. You realize Joel's room must include his and her's closets, but Joel has no use for this one.

You undress down to nothing and slip the buttery soft robe over your skin. You could live in this robe. There are definitely some amazing perks to being rich. You walk out of the closet, and Joel is waiting for you in a matching cotton robe.

"See, it's a perfect fit," he says.

"I don't even want to know how much one of these robes costs," you say. 

Joel laughs a little at your comment. "The sauna is through this door here," Joel says and pushes the door next to him open, holding it for you to enter first.

You don't know what you've been expecting when Joel had said he had a sauna in his bathroom, but the sauna you walk into is more than you could have ever imagined.

Every inch of the room is covered in light wood. The benches look as though they conform perfectly to your body and are accented with white pillows. The steam is warm and envelops you as soon as you walk into the room. However, the most breathtaking part of the sauna is the floor-to-ceiling window. It makes it feel like the sauna is open to the ocean itself, and the dark water reflecting the dim light of the room is extremely romantic.

"How do you ever leave?" you ask after a few speechless seconds.

Joel laughs again and takes a seat in the center of the bench, staring out into the dark water. You sit next to him and realize you might be too close, so you try to scoot away subtly.

"I don't bite, darlin."

You laugh awkwardly but remain close enough to feel the heat of his body next to yours. You close your eyes and try to let go of the evening. You think about watching the dolphins swimming in the cove while Joel sits next to you on the jet ski.

"You look like you're feeling a little better," Joel whispers.

"I am. This is exactly what I needed." You pause for a few seconds and add, "You keep saving me today."

"You've saved me on this trip too. Can I tell you a secret?" he asks, leaning in closer to you.

"Of course," you answer, and your heart starts beating faster.

"The rest of Sarah's friends drive me insane."

"That's your secret?" you bump his shoulder with yours. "That’s a really weak secret. They drive me insane too."

"If that’s not a secret, then tell me a better one," he says.

"What kind of secret?"

"Tell me why you’re leaving tomorrow?" he asks and looks into your eyes.

You pause, considering if you should tell him the truth, but he is getting Todd as a son-in-law. So you choose a different path.

"I can't afford to stay," you say finally. Taking Joel's silence as confusion, you elaborate, "I'm completely broke. I've put all of my money into school. I work as a bartender and live off of my tips and ramen noodles."

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand why that means you need to leave tomorrow," Joel says somberly.

That’s a fair point; Sarah and her father have paid for absolutely everything.  It isn't costing you anything to stay on this once-in-a-lifetime vacation. You need to come up with a reason to leave before he sees through the holes in your story.

"I have to get back to New York, get ready to move to Cambridge, and find a job there before the semester starts. I only have a few weeks of living costs saved up." This is partly true; you do need to do all of those things, but going back early would actually complicate things for you. You can't move into your new apartment in Cambridge until two weeks before the semester starts. So going back early would just mean you'd sit in your old apartment with nothing to do. Plus, if you went back early, you would have a few more weeks of expenses to take care of, and you already quit your job.

"What if I could help you find a new position in Cambridge?" Joel asks.

"What do you mean?" you ask, surprised.

"I have some connections in Cambridge; if I helped you get a few interviews, would you be able to stay longer?"

You can't find any words to respond. You've been really worried about what you would do for work when you got to Cambridge. You don't know anyone there and planned on spending the two weeks before the semester handing in resumes at different restaurants.

"You would do that for me?" you ask.

"Absolutely. I’ll make some calls in the morning. You don't have to stay, but I would enjoy your company if you did. The Bahamas are beautiful this time of year. I don't want you to miss it."

"Okay, I'll stay," you say quietly. "Thank you, Joel."

You can't believe this man's kindness to you. If it's important to Joel that you stay on the trip, then you will figure out how to deal with Todd and Sarah for a little while longer.

"I'm glad to hear it," he says with a smile.

The sky starts to lighten in the early morning hours, so you stand and tell him, "I should head back down to my own room and get some rest."

"Probably a good idea," he says and follows you out of the sauna.

You go back into the massive closet and change back into your clothes, hanging the robe back on the hook. You walk back out into the main room, and Joel is waiting for you, still in his robe.

"Let me walk you down."

"That's really okay. You’ve done so much for me already," you say.

"How long will you stay?"

"I'm not sure. At least another week." You smile at Joel and walk out the door.

***

Joel shuts the door behind you as you walk down the hall. He's relieved that he convinced you to stay for at least another week, but he knows there's something else that's the real cause for you being so upset tonight.

He knows that you're not part of Sarah's usual friend group, but after talking to you tonight, he's confused about how you're even friends at all. You clearly have big goals and work hard to see them happen. Sarah doesn't have any goals other than becoming an 'influencer.'

The thought of you working at every spare moment to put yourself through school makes his stomach twist at how badly he's spoiled Sarah. You deserve so much better than to be just scraping by. He would do anything he could to help you find something better. Hell, he would have offered to pay for your tuition, too, if he thought you would accept it.

Joel pulls out his phone and sends an email to the connection he has at a law firm in Cambridge. He's done some business with them in the past and figures it would be a much better fit for you than making people drinks. With how much business he's given the firm, he knows he can at least get you an interview.

On his home screen, there's a notification of a phone call from his financial advisor, Alester, that he missed while he was in the sauna with you. Alester never calls at this hour, so he knows something is wrong. Joel calls him back immediately, waiting impatiently to hear his voice on the other end.

“Joel, I am so sorry for the early hour," Alester says.

“No need to apologize; what's going on?" He asks urgently.

“I am afraid it is not good news.”

“Just tell me, Alester," he says, doing his best not to get impatient with the man. He's worked for Joel for years, and Joel trusts him with his life. There's an infuriatingly long pause on Alester's end. He sighs before he finally responds. “Blaine is back, sir."

***

The sun is streaming through the glass doors of the balcony as you finally open your eyes. Your head is pounding from a lack of sleep and caffeine. You want to order coffee up to your room, but you need to shower too badly to wait. After running all the way to the yacht and then sitting in the sauna with Joel, you are salty with dried sweat. You probably should have showered last night, but, after reaching your room in the early morning hours, you collapsed on the bed and had fallen asleep in your clothes.

You walk into the bathroom, expecting to look like a mess from all the events of the night, your clothes are extremely wrinkled, but you are surprised to see your hair still looks flawless. "I wish I could afford to get a blowout more often," you say to your reflection, pulling on a few strands as you admire the style.

You put your hair up and step into the hot water of the shower, washing off the previous day. You stand under the steaming water until you are getting a little dizzy from the heat. As you stand there, you can't help but think about Joel. He's been so kind to you, and you can't help but wonder if there's a chance he wants more from your relationship than what one would typically expect between a man and a friend of his daughter's. You shake your head. You can't allow yourself to think that way. Joel lives in a world you know nothing about. Not only is he much older than you, he is also Sarah's dad. Besides, he can have any woman he wants. Why would he want you?

Returning your thoughts to reality, you finish rinsing your hair and turn off the water. You wrap a towel around yourself, and make your way back into the bedroom to cool down.

The screen of your phone is illuminated, so you pick it up and lounge back on the bed. You have several notifications from the group chat between you and your roommates, Aubrey and Lin. You know you need to let them know what's going on.

Aubrey: Hey? Are you still alive? We haven't heard from you in days.

Lin: Maybe she finally found herself a rebound, and that’s why she’s too busy for us. My guess is a sexy pool boy!

You: Sorry, you two. Signal has been spotty. A sexy pool boy, Lin? Is that your guess or your fantasy?

Lin: I think a sexy pool boy should be everyone’s fantasy. ‘Pool boy, refresh my drink, and while you are at it, come rub me down with some tanning lotion.’

Aubrey: Lin, you’re the reason I can’t let Gianni read our group messages!

Lin: Sorry, we aren’t as lucky as you to have an amazing boyfriend who kisses the ground we walk on. Some of us have to use our imaginations.

You: I miss you two so much! I wish you were here with me.

Aubrey: How is everything going? Is the boat as big as we are imagining?

You: Honestly, it is probably bigger than you’re imagining. It’s not so much a boat as it is a super yacht. The bathroom in my room is as big as our entire apartment, and I’m just in a guest room. I have my own private balcony! Oh, and yesterday, I got to see a pod of dolphins!

Lin: Dolphins? How cool! I wish I had a rich friend who took me on expensive vacations.

You: Yeah, it sounds good in theory, but in reality, that rich friend was the one sleeping with my boyfriend for months.

Aubrey: Sarah was the one Todd was cheating on you with?! Why didn’t you lead with that?

You: Oh, that’s not even the worst part. Todd is here on the yacht too. We had already left port when I found out, so I’ve been stuck here with him.

Lin: No way! What the hell did that scumbag have to say for himself when he saw you?

You: Well, he pretended not to know who I am, and I went along with it.

Aubrey: I’m so sorry!

Lin: Why didn’t you call him out?

You: I probably should have, but I didn’t want to make things awkward. Like I said before, I am literally stuck on a boat with these people. Plus, Sarah clearly doesn’t know. I didn’t want to hurt her.

Aubrey: That makes sense. Maybe she will dump him before things get too serious.

You: Oh, one more thing, they got engaged at dinner last night. I had a front row seat for the entire thing. And then their after party.

Aubrey: Are you okay? Do you need me to come get you? I don’t know exactly how I would find you, but you know I would figure it out.

You: Thanks Aubrey, but I’m okay.

Lin: Shit, this is really messed up. What do you mean by ‘you had a front row seat to their after party?’

You: I walked out to the pool deck and caught them having sex in the pool. Then I tripped over a deck chair trying to get out of there.

Lin: Did they catch you?

You: I still don’t know. I really hope not. I don’t know how I would show my face in front of either of them again if they did.

Aubrey: How did Todd even meet Sarah? It’s not like your social circles mix very well.

You: I was thinking about that a lot last night. I am pretty sure that they met at my birthday party.

Lin: So you're telling me when we were all celebrating you, Todd was off hitting on someone else?

You: Pretty much. I’m realizing a lot about who Todd really is. I think his whole plan was to find someone rich. I was thinking about it last night. I remember that towards the end of our relationship, he made lots of comments about how poor I am.

Aubrey: You’re not poor! You’re a college student just trying to make it through school.

Lin: Isn’t Sarah the one who dropped out sophomore year to become an influencer?

You: Yes, that is Sarah. She does actually have a big social media following. And as you both know, she comes from a lot of money.

Lin: Well, that’s pretty easy when you can buy whatever you want and post pictures of yourself on your dad’s billion dollar yacht.

Aubrey: So how long until you get back?

You: I think I’m staying another week. We’re sailing to the Bahamas. I was told that we will make port tonight.

Lin: Well, that sounds amazing. Do you know what you’re going to be doing?

You: I’m not sure yet. I’ll have to ask Joel what has been planned.

Lin: Oh, who is Joel?

You: Joel is just a friend.

Aubrey: I’m glad to hear at least you’re making friends. Then you have a way to escape from Sarah and Todd.

Lin: Me too. Any pool boys?

You: Haha Lin! Very funny. No, I have not made friends with any of the pool boys.

Lin: Well, maybe you should. There is no better way to get over someone than getting under someone.

Aubrey: I hate to say it, but I agree with Lin. Go get some! There have to be some island hotties at one of your stops.

You: I can’t believe you two. I have to go. Someone is knocking at my door. I miss you two so much!

Chuckling at the antics of your two best friends, you set your phone down on the bedside table, smiling to yourself. It's good to know that you have at least two friends you can count on for anything.

You wrap your towel tight around you and check the peephole in the door, relieved to see a maid at your door and not someone else since you're not even dressed yet. You open the door and are surprised to see she's holding a tray and a box in her arms.

"Good morning, Miss," the maid says with a friendly smile on her face.

Confused, you return her smile but look suspiciously at the items she's holding. "Good morning. I think there may have been a mix-up. I didn't call down for anything."

"Don't worry. There was no mix-up," she assures you, taking a step through the open door. "Where would you like me to set this?" she asks.

You open the door wider and let her in to set the tray down on the table. She sets the box gently on the bed and turns to exit, still smiling at you.

"Do you know who sent this?" you ask, tracking the woman with your eyes as she steps away from the bed. However, she does not answer your question. Instead, she continues to proceed to the door with a small knowing smile on her face that makes you wonder what she knows that you don't.

"Have a good day, Miss," she says, giving a small head nod as she flashes you one last grin.

"Thank you," you say and close the door behind her.

You make your way over to the tray first. Lifting the cover, you find a stack of pancakes and a side of bacon and eggs. There's also a small pot of coffee and a fluffy pastry. Your mouth is already watering at the sight of the food, and you inhale deeply, closing your eyes and imagining how good it will all taste, but you replace the cover.

The anticipation for what the box could contain is too great.

The box is tied close with a red ribbon, so you untie it and set it to the side. You remove the lid to the box and are surprised to find a white cotton robe. Immediately, a smile crosses your face, and a small giggle of glee escapes your lips. There's a small handwritten note resting on top.

Darlin,

Please meet me on our secret deck later this evening. Enjoy some time to yourself.

P.S. I wanted you to be comfortable.

Sincerely,

Joel.

You set the card down on the nightstand, right next to the little pink seashell, and you slip on the robe. It's even softer than the night before, if that's possible, and it smells like sandalwood - It smells like Joel.

The clock reads 4:30 pm before you finally get out of bed and dress for the day. You pick out a form-fitting sundress with a delicate blue shell pattern along the hemline. It's one of the pieces that Joel purchased for you at Amorebelle. You aren't used to wearing dresses, but you want to look nice when you see him.

You carefully do your makeup at the vanity table in your bathroom. As you step back and look in the mirror, you are impressed with your own appearance; you look like you belong – almost.

You make your way to Joel's secret deck. Your heart pounds against your ribcage as you get closer. You stop as you round the corner to the private location; all you can see is the back of Joel's head as he holds a phone to his ear. The muscles in his shoulders are tense, and you can tell by his low tone that the conversation is not a pleasant one.

"What do you mean he’s threatening to contact members of the family?" You hear Joel say. "He has demands now? What are his demands?"

There is a long pause after what Joel says, and you watch him running a hand through his hair; he seems to be on edge. He listens carefully to whoever he is talking to, and you consider turning around.

"We need to start protecting the family assets. I need you to review my father's will again and ensure it is airtight. He will not get a dime out of me."

You know you should turn around and give Joel privacy, but your curiosity gets the better of you when he starts talking about his family. You lean against the railing to wait, and it squeaks. It squeaks loudly.

Joel turns his head and gives you a small half-smile. He waves his hand, gesturing for you to come to join him. You hesitantly walk over, taking as much time as possible.

"I agree that's a good plan. Lock everything down, and let me know if we get any more calls from him. I'm counting on you, Alester. Don't let me down," Joel says. He hangs up the phone and sets it on the table next to the lounge chair he is sitting in. He sighs, turns to the laptop sitting next to him, and starts typing.

"Hey, I hope I am not interrupting anything," you say and slowly walk up to him.

"Darlin," Joel says as he closes the laptop and turns to face you. "You're not interrupting anything; I was just getting caught up on some work stuff."

"I just noticed you were on the phone, and I didn't want to interrupt a business call or something," you say, trying to explain why you were leaning against the railing and eavesdropping on his phone call.

"Oh, that wasn't business. I just needed to deal with some family issues," he says as he moves a white and blue striped towel and a bottle of tanning lotion off of the lounge chair next to him, gesturing for you to take a seat.

"Are you feeling better?" he asks, and a natural smile finally mirrors in his eyes.

"I am because of you. Thank you so much for sending me breakfast, and that robe was amazing. I honestly can't remember the last time I let myself lay around in bed all day. I really enjoyed it," you say and sit as gracefully as you can manage in the lounge chair next to Joel.

"Good to hear. You deserved a day to relax like that. You don't need to thank me for the robe; after seeing you in it last night, I knew it belonged to you. It looked like it was made for you, so it was only right that I send it down to you," he says.

His words make your heart beat fast again, and your face flushes. You know you are getting too close to your friend's very handsome and single father than is wise. But, when he says things like that, it is hard not to.

You think about telling him the truth about why you were so upset, but you don't want to ruin the fun you're having together by unloading about your ex-boyfriend, who is about to be his son-in-law.

"So, are you excited to walk your daughter down the aisle?" you ask, quickly trying to change the subject, so you don't blurt out your history with Todd.

"Honestly, I'm not sure if I will walk Sarah down the aisle or if she will want her mom to," Joel answers.

His response surprises you, and it must show on your face because Joel continues with his explanation.

"I was only with Marnie, Sarah's mother, for a short time. Marnie got married to someone else shortly after and had Sarah. She believed that Sarah was biologically her husband's and not mine. I didn't even know Sarah existed. She had Sarah take a DNA test when she was ten; she was linked to some of the Miller family members who had also taken the test. Only then did we find out that Sarah was mine."

"I had no idea, Joel. Sarah never said anything about any of this," you say. You feel so sorry for all of them.

"When Marnie's husband died, she told Sarah and me the truth. However, Sarah had grown up with another man as her father, and I never wanted to try and fill his place in her life. So I never really took on that fatherly role with her. Instead, I bought her everything she ever asked me for, and that was the basis of our relationship for a long time."

You sit there staring at the pain in Joel's face for a while. He never takes his eyes off of the ocean but continues to tell you about his past.

"Over the years, we've tried to build our relationship, and I take her on vacation with me every summer, but we still don't have the typical relationship you would expect. At times, Marnie and I have a hard time getting along; we don't see eye to eye on a lot of things. So I stayed back and let Marnie raise Sarah; in a lot of ways, I don't agree with how she raised her," Joel says with a sigh. "That's why you're all here. Sarah and I don't know how to talk to each other because we have nothing in common and barely any memories together. So dinner gets a little awkward without others to fill the silence," Joel says, seeming slightly embarrassed about admitting this.

"I had no idea. Sarah always made it sound like her life was so perfect."

"In all the ways Sarah measures her life, it has been," Joel says, but you aren't quite sure what he means by it.

A maid with a tray of tropical cocktails interrupts your conversation, and she sets the drinks on the table between Joel and you.

"Thank you, Molly, these look wonderful," Joel says.

"Of course, sir," Molly says with a small smile.

"How's your sister doing? I hope she's making a speedy recovery."

"She is, sir. She should be back on her feet again in no time."

"When we get back, you should make some time to go and see her. I'll tell Reggie to add some more PTO for you," Joel says.

"Thank you, sir, I really appreciate that," she says and turnsto leave.

As you observe the interaction between Joel and one of his staff members, you realize you've never seen him treat an employee poorly. However, Sarah snaps at them to get their attention, and you suspect she doesn't even know their names or anything about them. She doesn't even treat them like they're people. This explains why you never felt like you fit in with Sarah and her friends, but you feel comfortable and want to spend all your time with Joel. He doesn't look down on you for being poor, but Sarah does. The irony of it all is that the only one on the ship who knows exactly how poor you are, is Joel.

You stare at Joel, and when he finally meets your gaze, you can't help but smile at him. "Thank you for telling me all of this," you say.

"Thank you for listening," he responds simply.

"It seems like we're making a habit of telling each other all of our secrets," you say with a small giggle.

"I hope that continues."

"Me too," you answer.

"Sarah has another dinner planned on the upper deck. Can I walk you up?" Joel asks you.

"I'm actually feeling a little seasick, I don't think it would be wise for me to eat right now," you answer. You don't feel like spending another evening with Sarah and her new fiance.

"Do you need a doctor? We have a nurse on the yacht, but we'll be making port in just a few hours; I can call and have one meet us at the dock."

"No, I'm okay, really. I just need to go back and lie down."

"Okay, if you're sure. I'll walk you down to your room," Joel said, checking his watch.

"No, no. I'm fine, really."

"Okay," he says reluctantly, "but please use the intercom in your room if you need anything."

"I will, I promise," you say with a small wave and leave to slowly make your way back to your room.

You take your time moving through the ship. You don't want to run into anyone heading to Sarah's dinner, where the topic of conversation is sure to be all about her recent engagement.

You're relieved when you see that most of the hallways are completely empty, so you quickly start toward your room.

"Hey!"

You turn and see Reggie walking up behind you.

"Hey, Reggie. It's been a while," you say with a smile.

"Where are you going?" he asks.

"I'm going back to my room. I wasn't really in the mood to spend dinner with everyone."

"Well, I was on my way to play some cards with some of the crew members. Why don't you come?"

Reggie must have seen the hesitation on your face. "Come on. It's actually fun to hang out with normal people every once in a while."

You laugh. You didn't realise that Reggie thought you were just as wealthy as the rest of Sarah's friends. "Reggie, I am a normal person. Let's go.”

—

Joel makes his way up to dinner alone, silently wishing you would be joining. You're one of the only ones in the group that he actually cares to have a conversation with. However, it might be for the best that you're not coming. Joel found himself always drawn to you, and if he wasn't careful, Sarah would catch on to his interest in her friend. He knows that would not go over well.

Joel's the last one to arrive, and he takes the only seat available next to Sarah's new fiance, Todd.

"I never got the chance to congratulate you on the engagement last night," Joel says as he shakes Todd's hand. "I rushed out because I had an urgent business matter I had to attend to."

Joel hoped that would adequately explain his quick departure the night before. He feels a little guilty that he didnt stay to celebrate and instead took off after you to make sure she was okay.

If he's being honest with himself, his evening spent with you, talking in the sauna, was much more enjoyable. He probably won't be winning any best dad of the year awards, though. He already smoothed things over with Sarah this morning. He showed up to her room with a pair of diamond earrings from Tiffany's. He'd bought them for her birthday, but they were perfect as a stand-in engagement present. Once he brought out the diamond, he didn't think she heard another word that he said. He’s happy to see that she’s wearing them tonight. She truly did look happy, and Joel prayed she would be in her marriage.

"Thank you so much, sir. I hope you approve of our engagement," Todd says.

Joel almost forgot that it was customary for a man to ask for his daughter's hand to get the father's approval of the marriage. "I think you two make a great couple. I'm looking forward to having you as part of the family, Todd," Joel says and then stands up. He taps his wine glass to get the group's attention. Everyone at the table quiets quickly and turns to him.

"I want to congratulate Sarah and Todd on their engagement. May they find happiness in each other and enjoy each other's company for many years to come." Sarah's friends all clap at this statement. Once the quiet returns he starts again. “As my engagement gift to the couple, I would like to throw you two an engagement party at my home here in the Bahamas."

This announcement receives a very excited response from all of Sarah's friends. Sarah's face is beaming at all of the attention she is getting. She smiles and stands up to make an announcement of her own. Joel notices she shakes her head gracefully from side to side, causing the earrings to catch the light. She is an expert at showing off wealth; no wonder she’s doing so well as an influencer.

“Thank you so much, Daddy! I'm so glad you approve, and an engagement party will be the perfect way to announce to the world that I'm about to be married. I am so excited about the upcoming wedding, and I would be honoured if all of you were part of our wedding party." Sarah is met with murmurs of agreement from the men and squeals of excitement from the women present. She sits down with a huge smile, clearly pleased with the group's reactions. “Daddy, can you hire some professional photographers for the engagement party? I need some really good pictures to post."

“Of course," Joel says.

“I wish we could have gotten some great shots of the actual engagement, but Todd didn't think about that part of it," Sarah says, with a hint of annoyance in her voice.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I told you it wasn't exactly planned. We had such an amazing day, and it just felt like the right time," Todd says defensively.

“I'm marrying a true romantic," Sarah says, resting her chin on Todd's shoulder.

“Is there anything else you two need?" Joel asks, trying his best to be supportive.

“I’ll need to pick one more bridesmaid so we have even numbers," Sarah says to Joel.

“Why not ask your old roomate?" Joel asks, confused as to why Sarah isn't planning on asking her most likable and attractive friend.

“Oh, I didn't notice that she wasn't here for my announcement. That sort of works out for the best, though. I’m going to ask someone different. She doesn't really fit into the vision I have for the wedding," Sarah says, sounding very much like a snob.

“And what exactly is your vision for the wedding?" Joel asks, annoyed with his daughter's uncouth response.

“I want everything to be glamorous," Sarah says as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I'll still invite her, but as part of the wedding party, you have to fit the aesthetic."

“That's true; it's not like she would be comfortable with the level of finery at the wedding anyway. It’s very obvious that she’s lower class. I think our guests would be able to sense that. If she can't afford to buy a new dress for her birthday party, it's not likely that she will be able to afford a bridesmaid's dress anyway," Todd says with a smug smile on his face.

Sarah giggles and then turns to talk to the woman next to her about possible venues for the wedding.

“Didn't you just meet her this week?" Joel asks Joel in a low voice.

“Yeah, Sarah told me they went to college together or something," Todd says and takes a bite off his plate.

“Then how would you know she couldn't afford a new dress for her birthday party?" Joel says with quiet suspicion.

Todd's eyes go wide in shock, and he nearly chokes on the food in his mouth. He takes a few moments to recover and then says, “I think Sarah told me that. She went to her birthday, and she had to borrow a dress because she couldn't afford a new one."

Although Joel doesn't doubt that Sarah would gossip about something as petty as not being able to afford a new dress, he finds it odd that Todd would remember something like that. Todd's reaction tells Joel that he is hiding something, and Joel's suspicion is only increased by his quick shift to join Sarah's conversation.

Do you and Todd know each other outside of Sarah?

Joel eats the rest of his meal in silence and makes an excuse about having work to do to get out of the rest of the evening's activities. Instead of heading back to his room, he goes to the captain to tell him about the change of plans. 

After Joel's conversation with the captain, he makes his way to his office, which is located a floor below the guest rooms. He thinks about going and checking on you but decides it is best to let you get some sleep.

Joel's office on the yacht is a carbon copy of his office at home. It has a large wooden desk in the center and a large dark leather armchair. The only difference is the view is spectacularly better on the yacht. A large windowed balcony sits behind the desk, so Joel can watch the ocean as he works.

Joel sinks into his leather chair and opens the laptop on his desk. A notification glows on the screen, informing him of the one hundred and twenty-seven emails waiting in his inbox. He pulls out his phone instead and finds his event planner's phone number in his contacts.

“Hello, this is Jessica of Jessica's events."

“Jessica, this is Joel Miller."

“Mr. Miller, it’s great to hear from you again. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

“I'm calling to see if you can organize a party for me. My daughter just got engaged, and I want to throw her an engagement party at my home in the Bahamas."

“Congratulations, Mr. Miller. I would love to help plan such a happy occasion. When can I pencil in your event?"

“Two days from now," he says, knowing the absurdity of the request.

“Did I hear you right? You want me to plan an entire event in two days?"

“If anyone can do it, it's you, Jessica. I’m willing to pay double."

“You have always known how to close a deal. I will have everything ready for you, Mr. Miller. Does your daughter have a theme in mind?”

Joel hates that he has to say it out loud, “She said the theme of her wedding is…glamor."

He hears a small giggle escape from Jessica on the other end of the phone, and she quickly tries to cover it with a cough.

“I know how it sounds," Joel says, embarrassed. “That’s why I am trusting you with this event. I know you will make it tasteful. After the engagement party, I’ll have Sarah talk with you about wedding plans."

“That sounds great, Mr. Miller. I will see you in two days."

“Thank you very much. Goodbye," Joel says and hangs up the phone. This wedding is going to be expensive, and Joel already expects to foot the bill for everything. Extravagant is one thing, but Sarah's taste is beyond even that.

Joel turns his attention back to his laptop screen and the blinking email notification, but he can't get you out of his head. Instead of working, he pulls up his social media pages and searches for your name. He quickly finds your social media pages. You're not very active; most of your pictures are candid shots of you and your friends, two women that looke kind and a lot more down-to-earth than his own daughter.

Joels slightly disappointed that you don't have more pictures for him to scroll through and very little about your life. He wants to know more about you, but it seems like you're very private with your online presence.

He sighs and closes the social media pages, finally returning to the emails he’s dreading sorting through. The newest email in his inbox makes his heart sink. It's from an unknown sender and contains a single sentence.

I know who I really am, and the whole world will, too, if you don't meet my demands.

—

"I am a normal person," you say again, smiling as you walk with Reggie. He raises an eyebrow skeptically at you.

"You don't believe me?" you ask.

"Right, because us normal people get invited to one of the largest private yachts in the world as guests all the time. You don't have to pretend you're not rich to fit in with the crew. They will like you because you are actually nice," Reggie says.

"I am the furthest thing from rich," you laugh.

"Oh, yeah? Prove it," Reggie says with a teasing smile on his face.

You quickly pull out your phone and find a picture of you and your two roommates in your apartment and show it to Reggie.

"What does this prove?" he asks.

"This is a picture of me and my two roommates, Lin and Aubrey; we are sitting in the living room of our one-bedroom apartment. I’m a bartender at a little dive bar, and I currently have two hundred and thirty dollars in my bank account," you say matter of factly.

Reggie's expression changes from one of teasing to one of shock.

"Are you serious?" he asks.

"I mean, I can pull up a bank statement if you really want," you say with a smile.

"Then how did you end up as one of Sarah's friends?"

"Sarah and I were roommates during our first few years at NYU. I think Sarah was placed in the regular dorm rooms to teach her what it was like to be a regular person or something," you say, only half joking. You still haven't figured that one out. Maybe her dad was trying to teach her a life lesson. "Anyway, she hated it and dropped out her sophomore year, but we remained friends and have been in and out of touch over the years. She randomly invited me on this vacation, and I accepted. I didn't expect the yacht to be quite this big, though."

Once you are done with your explanation, you are on the lowest floor of the yacht. You're surprised at how nice the staff area is. Perhaps you'd been expecting it to be like a scene from the lower decks of the movie 'Titanic,' but the lowest level of the ship looks like walking into a lobby of a four-star hotel.

You make your way into what must be the staff dining room. There’s a large group of people surrounding a circular table in the middle of a game of cards. Music is playing in the background, and snacks and beer litter the table. It looks like this is going to be the most comfortable you've been on your trip so far.

"Everyone be nice; we have a newcomer," Reggie says as he pulls out a chair for you.

The mood changes slightly as you sit down, and Reggie sits next to you. You realize you’re still wearing the sundress that Joel bought you, and you must look like you are made of money.

"Hey, I'm Max," says a man with black hair and olive skin.

"Hey, Max," you stick your hand out to shake his and you introduce yourself. 

"Nice to meet you. Tell us about yourself."

"There isn't much to tell. I'm a bartender at a little hole-in-the-wall in New York, and I'm trying to put myself through law school," you say nonchalantly.

"What bar?" a girl across the table asks.

"It's called McGregor's."

"No way! I've been there before," Max says. “You have the best nachos!"

You laugh. “Yeah, we do. I would eat an entire plate by myself if no one were watching."

You feel the entire table relax as they all realize that you aren't like the rest of the guests on the yacht.

"What are we playing?" you ask, grabbing a handful of popcorn.

"Strip Poker."

Your throat goes dry at the thought of undressing in front of a room full of strangers. You're afraid to swallow the piece of popcorn you just placed in your mouth. You look around, and everyone is still fully clothed, and your heart rate starts to slow. Max smiles, clearly finding enjoyment in your shock.

"Max, don't scare her off already," Reggie chuckles. “Do you want a beer?”

—

“You wouldn't believe what one of the 'Richies' asked me today,” Brenna says

"Oh, this is going to be good. Brenna always has the best stories," Reggie leans over and whispers to you. After a few beers and a hand or two of actual poker, everyone seems completely at ease with you.

"I was cleaning up a wine glass he'd dropped, and he started hitting on me. Obviously, he has no idea what the real world is like, so he starts asking questions as a way to talk to me."

"Oh no," Max says with a laugh.

"He asked me about living on the bottom deck of the yacht, and I tell him how it takes some getting used to because we are below the water down here. Then he asks me how we use our balconies if they're underwater."

You snort into your glass, glad you hadn't been taking a sip of the beer at the moment, or it would be flowing out of your nose. You set your beer down and ask, "Oh, please tell me you had a good comeback."

She smiles brightly, "I told him we could only use them at low tide. Then he nods and says, 'That makes sense.' I swear they are all clueless."

Brenna starts laughing, and the whole table joins in, but by the time you catch your breath, you have tears in the corners of your eyes. You have not laughed like this the entire time you've been on the ship.

"No offense; I know Sarah is your friend and all, but how do you stand spending time with them?" Max asks.

"Oh, trust me, it’s a challenge. I sneak off by myself whenever I get the chance. No one seems to really notice, especially after Sarah's engagement."

"Oh, man, her fiance is a real tool, isn't he?" Brenna adds.

"He's a social climber too, so they are actually a great fit," Charlotte says. Charlotte is one of the older staff members and hasn't said much throughout the night.

"Well, that makes sense about the fiance, but do you mean Sarah is one too?" Max asks.

They seem to have forgotten that you are there, or at least they forget that you know Sarah personally. However, you keep your mouth shut not because you want to know more, but because you are trying to act as if you don't care too much.

"I started working for Mr. Miller when Sarah and the horrible woman she has as a mother first came around. That same day, the staff was all told that Sarah was Mr. Miller's daughter and to make sure she had everything she needed. Marnie, Sarah's mother, spent the whole day ordering the staff around like she was the owner of the house," said Charlotte.

"From my experience with Marnie, that sounds about right," Max offers.

"Sarah was raised by another man by the name of Winston Radcliff. Some of the staff had been around when Mr. Miller first brought Marnie around. The rumor was that Marnie threw Mr. Miller aside for Radcliff right after she found out she was pregnant because Radcliff could offer her a better position in society."

You can't imagine someone who had the chance to be with Joel choosing another person over him. You can't help but ask, "What did Winston offer that Joel couldn't?"

"Radcliff was the next in line for an earldom. It turned out that the earldom came with a shabby little estate that cost Winston his fortune to keep standing. The marriage quickly turned sour, and when the earl died, Marnie was just as quick to get a paternity test for Sarah."

"In my opinion, Mr. Miller was better off not knowing the truth. Marnie always shows up asking for more money. Sarah has always wanted something, even though Mr. Miller buys her more than she could ever need." Charlotte says.

"Was Joel in love with Marnie?" you ask, not knowing if you really want the answer.

"No, I don't think he ever really loved her. Maybe he could have found a woman right for him if Marnie hadn't been around for the last fourteen years, scaring away every decent woman he has dated. She thinks that if she can keep him single long enough, he will fall back in love with her, but Mr. Miller will never forgive her for what she did."

You nod and turn to see Reggie staring at you with a strange, almost hurt look on his face. He turns away from you before you can ask him what's wrong.

"Well, I think I'm going to head to bed," Brenna says, and the others all stand up to follow.

"You should come play cards with us again," Max says.

"Absolutely! We are here every night, and you are welcome to join us," Brenna adds.

"Thank you. I will." You're happy to know they've welcomed you as one of them.

You say a quick goodnight to everyone and head back up the stairs to the upper decks. Reggie's room is on the lower deck, so you walk by yourself. It must be later than you thought because the lights in the pool area are already turned off.

You feel silly rushing across the dark deck, but it makes you sort of nervous being alone on such a big ship. You're careful to avoid the deck chairs this time, and you're relieved to make it to the doors leading into the guestroom corridor.

"Where the hell have you been?"

You stop dead in your tracks and don't want to turn around. You know that tone of voice from countless arguments. It's Todd, the last person on the entire ship that you want to be alone with. You slowly turn, knowing you're going to have to face him eventually.

He stumbles a step towards you, and you back up to avoid a collision if he falls.

"Are you drunk?"

"I believe I asked a question first," Todd stutters.

"I was playing a game of cards with some of the crew."

Todd laughs and rolls his eyes at you. He again stumbles a little closer, and you're trapped between him and your door. He leans forward and places an arm on either side of you, blocking your escape. You can smell the alcohol on his breath as he laughs. He's beyond drunk.

"Just like you. A yacht full of every thing you could want, and you spend your time with the help."

"Get off of me, Todd!"

"You know you still want me," Todd says, lowering his face closer to yours. You push against his chest, trying to get him off.

Todd is suddenly ripped backward, so forcefully you know it wasn't of his own doing. 

You see Joel standing behind Todd with a fist full of his shirt. “Get your ass to bed before I throw you off my ship."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller #pedro pascal

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

i get that the blitz basically shapes your characterisation of tom, but the way jkr has dumbledore treat tom in canon makes it seem like... did she just not realise he was growing up during ww2? i just FEEL like she intended to make it seem like oh, he only wants to stay at hogwarts because he has no family at home, not because hes literally getting BOMBED 😭

The absence of the cultural impact of WWII in Harry Potter is weird and a constant mystery to me. It's not just Tom's backstory (being set in a period and from a place where this is very relevant) but the entire story for that matter.

Could be she just didn't want to include any of it/didn't want to get into it at all. Which is fair because this is a children's fantasy series that's deliberately set in the 1990's and not about the war (vs. Chronicles of Narnia where Lion, Witch, and the Wardrobe is deliberately set on the premise of "children are sent out of London to mysterious countryside house they've never been to and are exploring" or Bed knobs and Broomsticks which has pretty much the same premise of "children sent away to mysterious household where woman turns out to be a witch")

Except that she then goes on to make very strong parallels between the Death Eaters/Muggle-born Registration act and the Nazis, Dumbledore and Churchill, etc.

So... it feels like she kind of forgot the whole part where Britain was under severe threat of invasion (army across the channel, submarines in the channel) as well as the bombing campaigns particularly against London and how much of the city was destroyed and many people died.

I haven't read any interviews, but this woman is awful with dates and history to begin with so... I'm left wondering if JKR either didn't know. Somehow. Or forgot. Somehow. Or got her dates wrong. Somehow.

The treatment of Tom Riddle definitely seems to be she intended just "oh he's a poor orphan who feels Hogwarts is his home and wants to stay because of that" to parallel with Harry who also wants to stay over the summer and is told no and not, well, de bombs. (Added to this that Dumbledore/JKR never tells us where Tom is sent during the war. Dumbledore implies Tom was just chilling at Wool's the whole time.)

#harry potter #harry potter meta #harry potter headcanon #jk rowling #anti jk rowling #albus dumbledore #tom riddle #meta #headcanon #opinion

[shiki-jin]

YOUR CELESTIAL MAJESTY • SAGAU

(part 0 here)

was listening to TruE on loop while writing the last part of this, it's genuinely such a good song ugwvdya

also can you spot the contradiction ;D it's plot relevant i promise

not proofread, dont bully me ill write a thesis on why youre a meanie

—

you had long deleted genshin, since you had other things to do. you had wanted to go back to the game for a while now, now that you were less busy, but there was just one little problem.

it was now taking up nearly triple the amount of space that it was when you uninstalled it. around 300 whole gigabytes.

jesus christ, what phone can even handle this???

your phone, apparently. because as you opened the game to see if maybe a miracle would happen and that if maybe they would just, like, remove half of the things in the game, it just… kinda loaded?

no installing new files, no checking for anything, no nothing…. just an immediate pan to the gates of celestia.

you decided to check if it was the right genshin since this was just way too weird, but countering your judgement, every link you found led you to the same game, leading you to believe it not to be a bootleg or an illegal version.

guess i’ll trust it then.

you clicked on the gates which opened smoothly, and your screen turned white. then, the symbols of the seven elements appeared in gray.

and then the game just… opened. no loading time, once again. no getting stuck on the geo symbol, nothing. nada. just a smooth entrance into what you had to assume to be teyvat — but your surroundings didn't really support that claim.

the grass was brown and just looked off, the sky was gray. a darker shade than, say, mond’s walls, but it was like one of those game crashes.

well, except you could still move around.

you moved your current character around (the traveller? since when were they the only one in your team?) and decided to open the map after not figuring out where you could possibly be.

hold on, this is springvale? since when?

eveything looked dead, like it had been rotting for a century. you tried to ignore it though, and teleported to the inside of mondstadt. surely this was just some glitch, right? one that would fix itself if you teleported?

maybe the world loaded incorrectly, maybe the fact that nothing took time to load meant that it couldn't load, maybe this or that, maybe…

maybe this really was how the game looked normally. you hadn't done any quests though, so you wondered if it could be restored.

you took a screenshot of the your surroundings — the stone, worn down and dirty. the houses which looked to be in a horrible state, and… the npcs, all sickly and pale, like they were starving.

you went to reddit (yes, reddit), and posted the screenshot, asking if it was normal.

you closed the game and decided to take a nap, too tired to really deal with this shit any further.

while you slumbered, people replied to your post.

╰┈➤ lol me too anon, me too

╰┈➤ isn't the game closed or wtv? how'd you get this wtf

╰┈➤ they're trolling

╰┈➤ o makes sense oops

╰┈➤ So we’re all still mourning huh

╰┈➤ jokes aside that's a super impressive edit ngl

you remained unaware of the truth, but you'd find out soon enough.

actually, you'd find out now, apparently…

what the fuck?? why is my bed so hard now?

you groaned and forced your eyes open, seeing a dark, nearly black sky.

the only light was a single star, lingering right above you.

“since when was i outside...?"

a voice spoke to you, answering your question.

“you always have been, have you not? but would you like to head inside, my lord?”

... huh? i recognize that voice...

—

p.s. place your bets on who it is, i’m thinking of one specific character but if there's a fan fav i'll make it them instead since i haven't written anything beyond this point (⁠・⁠_⁠・⁠;⁠)

p.s.s. don't expect updates to this series too quickly, i wish i could write as quick as i think of ideas but sadly that's not the case orz

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #sagau #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yippie #genshin self aware #genshin self aware au

[watermelonlovershigh]

A Shift Occurs {part 4.} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)

Friends Who Share Mutual Emotions {part 3.} (housemate!harry series)

AN: excited to be putting out a smutty fic since i haven't in a while. i hope you enjoy part 4. feel free to help put inspo into this series by sending me things you'd like to see happen in this story. remember to reblog and leave your feedback. enjoy!!!

This story contains: fluff, smut, handjob and male receiving oral, talks of using vibrator

{ housemate!harry - softrry - friend!harry - au harry - harry's occupation is a teacher }

word count- 2,373

Your friendship is progressing quicker than anticipated and when Harry wakes up with morning wood, you decide to help his situation out.

It's been three days since the mutual confessions of your feelings and to be completely honest, there has been little change as far as how the two of you interact. Apart from the absence of casual encounters, daily routines within the house remain unchanged from the time when you were merely housemates and just friends. But, you have noticed some subtle differences.

On Saturday night, you followed your usual routine. As the clock struck seven, you opted for Chinese take-out and settled on the couch to watch a movie. Eventually fatigue overcame you and you made the choice to call it a night. Although you had shared a bed earlier in the day during the morning nap, you believed that spending an entire night together would be rushing things, so you decided to go your separate ways.

However, following an hour of restlessness, Harry reached a point where he could no longer bear it. He rose from his bed and made his way across the hallway to your room. Being polite, he softly tapped on the door and upon hearing the invitation, "Come in," he cautiously entered. The room was dimly lit, but the moonlight filtering through the window provided just enough illumination for him to see your confused silhouette.

Curiously, you questioned, "Har... what are you doing?" while observing Harry confidently approaching your unoccupied side of the bed, dressed in only a pair of black boxer briefs. Without seeking consent, he smoothly pulled back the duvet and comfortably nestled himself beside you.

"Couldn't sleep." Harry answered before continuing, "Ever since this mornin' where we took that nap together and cuddled, I realized just how much I love sharing a bed and cuddlin' with someone. Hope this was alright."

Looking over at him as he got settled under the blankets, you replied, "Yeah, it's fine. Just thought you wanted to take this whole thing slow s'all."

"Y/n, when I said we should take our relationship slow, I meant sex. Sharing a bed and cuddlin' doesn't have to equal sex. It's purely platonic." At Harry's words, you had mixed emotions. Yes you agreed in wanting to take your progressive friendship at a slow pace but on the other hand, you also want to jump his bones every time you look into his grassy green eyes.

Since Harry was the one to take the brave step in coming into your bedroom, you made the brave step in sliding over until your body was right next to his. Quietly, you asked, "Big spoon or little spoon?"

Shyly giggling, Harry answered, "Little spoon."

"Okay, turn on your side for me." He did as told and you tightly wrapped your body around his back and hugged him to your chest. Just like Harry, you're a big cuddler too. Hence why most of the time you allowed your one-night stands to sleep over. Just to have a cuddle partner throughout the night.

The restlessness Harry had at the start of the night was now gone as you spooned him and sleep followed shortly after.

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

Every night since Saturday night you've shared a bed together. Either you sleep in Harry's bed or he sleeps in yours. It's become routine at this point and you both find comfort in sleeping together. Nothing more has happened in your developing relationship. Besides the accidently touch of your clothed boobs or the time your knee accidently grazed Harry's covered cock sometime throughout the night.

On the following Sunday morning though, a shift occurs. As you awaken, you find yourself nestled in Harry's bed, with his body curled around yours. The gentle exhalations of his warm breath brush against your neck, while his chest presses against your back. However, amidst this intimate embrace, you also become aware of another sensation. Something is prodding against your ass. You aren't oblivious to its nature, yet you find yourself uncertain about how to go about this situation.

It's a dilemma whether to ignore Harry's morning boner or to assist his problem in order to potentially advance your relationship. You don't want to make him feel uncomfortable, but also ponder if his desire to take things slow is actually for your benefit. Perhaps Harry is being cautious for your sake, and he might be ready to take your friendship to the next level.

Allowing desire to take over your judgement, you slowly back your bum up against his hardened cock and subtly move your hips, hoping the feeling gives him some sort of relief. Approximately thirty seconds go by before you hear a deep grunt coming from behind you. Then suddenly you feel Harry's body jump back until you're no longer touching one another.

You decide to turn around so you're facing his direction and once you get a good look at him, you see his large hand covering his face in what you presume is embarrassment. "Um, sorry 'bout that." Harry mummers aloud. He has no control over getting an erection in his sleep and the fact it happened while spooning you, it's so embarrassing for you to witness.

"Hey," you coo softly, scooting closer to his body, "you don't need to be embarrassed. It happens and it's natural. You know, I don't mind helping you out if you want."

Harry finally takes his hand away from his face and turns his head to look at you. "Y/n, what about the takin' it slow thing?"

"Harry, you also shared the importance of things moving naturally and I'd say they are. If things naturally progress fast then we should allow it instead of ignoring it. I don't mind helping your problem out. Know you must be aching." Once you're finished speaking, you place your hand on his bare belly and teasingly drag your fingers lower and lower. "Only if you're comfortable with that idea."

His longing for your touch surpasses everything else and he nods, uttering, "Um, yeah. If you want, you can help." Now assured of his agreement, you gradually move your fingers downwards until they reach the edge of his boxers. Before proceeding further, you steal a quick glance at Harry's face, searching for any hesitation, but there are none. With certainty, you slip your fingers beneath the elastic band encircling his narrow hips.

Your fingers pass over the patch of trimmed hairs before finally bumping into the hardness you felt against your ass a couple minutes prior. Carefully and without seeing, you take ahold of his morning wood and began to tug gently at his foreskin. This isn't your first rodeo. You know what your doing. You just hope Harry's enjoying what you're doing. And by the looks of it, he is.

Harry's leaning against his pillow, head thrown back, and a quiet gasp escapes his throat. The feeling of your hand wrapped around his cock exceeds all the fantasies he had while pleasuring himself and imagining your touch.

As you skillfully stroke him with your dominant hand, an overwhelming surge of arousal consumes you, causing your clitoris to pulsate with need. Despite the almost unbearable sensation, you set aside your own desires, dedicating yourself entirely to Harry's pleasure.

The room begins to get hot and stuffy so Harry reaches down to toss the covers off his lap. This gives you a better view of your hand down his briefs. After a few minutes of stroking his dick in your hand, you start feeling some resistant and realize the dryness may be uncomfortable for Harry. You could retreat your hand and lick your palm before going back to the handjob. Or, you could do something even better.

In one swift motion, you pull your hand out of Harry's underwear and crawl between his spread thighs. Now on your knees in front of his lying figure, you lean over his lap and tug the fabric down until it's cradled under his enlarged balls. "What are you......" he goes to ask but you cut him off.

"Shhh." You crouch down and glide your tongue over a thick vein along his shaft. He's larger than you imagined. You had an inkling of his size from how thick and heavy he felt in your hands, but now, face to face with it, he's huge. And it's not just huge, it's also aesthetically pleasing. The prettiest penis you've ever laid eyes on, and you wouldn't normally consider penises to be remarkably beautiful. It's no wonder why so many men and women enjoyed their nights with him.

A deep groan escapes Harry's lips as he's consumed by an overwhelming wave of pleasure, leaving him feeling dizzy. He never imagined you would go all out with a blowjob this morning. While a handjob is pleasurable, a blowjob is an even more exhilarating experience. You expertly guide his pulsating head to your lips and playfully flick your tongue over his sensitive slit. This action causes Harry to instinctively pull away, unable to bear the intense sensitivity.

In order to maintain his stability, you position your hands on both sides of his hips and decide you've teased long him enough. Gradually, you lower your head onto his large cock. However, as you reach approximately halfway down his length, he reaches the back of your throat, causing you to gag. Momentarily, you withdraw and apologize. "Sorry, it has been a while since I've gave a blowjob."

Harry lifts his head from the pillow and gently cups the sides of your face. "Don't worry about it. Just take it easy. You don't have to go all the way down and potentially make yourself sick. Just take what you can and it will still feel good f'me." He speaks from experience, having gave blowjobs before and knowing the struggle of trying to push beyond your limits. It only results in a sore throat and a stomach ache from gagging too much.

With a nod, you lean forward and proceed to take Harry into your mouth once again. Except this time you halt just before his tip reaches the back of your throat. Shifting one of your hands from his hip to the base of his penis, you skillfully maneuver your mouth up and down, while simultaneously twisting and tugging his shaft with your hand.

Harry thinks he's in heaven. He must be. Because nothing has ever felt this good before. None of his previous one-night stands has ever gave him this good of a blowjob. Not even the ones who could skillfully deepthroat him. Nor has any of his few actual relationships gave such a good blowjob. It must be the connection and feelings he has for you that's making this experience so amazing. It means more coming from you.

You suck and tug repeatedly until Harry is close to reaching orgasm in your mouth. Uncertain if you want him to come in your mouth, he alerts you, "Y/n... M' gonna come." Rather than withdrawing as he anticipates, you descend a bit further. This time, you successfully manage to control your gag reflex and intensify your sucking until you feel Harry releasing his warm cum in your mouth.

Harry tightly clutches his sheets, his hips involuntarily thrust upwards as he reaches his climax. You softly gag once but quickly regain your composure. He tastes better then some of the guys you've tasted before. It's a bit salty but doesn't have that pungent taste some men tend to have. Must be Harry's healthy diet.

Gradually, his limbs grow weak, and as his orgasm subsides, his body begins relaxing on the bed. You remove his wet and slippery cock from your mouth, observing Harry lying there, breathing heavily with his eyes firmly closed. Reeling what just happened.

With a croaky voice, you shyly question, "Was that good?"

"Was that good? Was it GOOD??" Harry repeats dramatically, "Oh my God, Y/n, best fuckin' blowjob I've ever had."

You playfully swat at his thighs. "Be serious, Harry."

Sitting up and tucking his limp penis back into his briefs, Harry continues his praises. "M' bein' very serious, Y/n. No one has ever made me come that hard. Not a one-night stand or any of the relationships I was in. You're a pro for sure."

For a moment the air feels heavy until you annonce, "Welp, I'm gonna go take a shower. I'm meeting up with some friends for brunch at noon."

In response, Harry mustered up a somewhat awkward reply, "Um, alright. Enjoy your shower." Left alone on his bed, Harry found himself half naked and still catching his breath from the intense orgasm he experienced a few minutes prior. He had intended to ask if he could reciprocate the favor, but you had already left before he had the chance too. It crossed his mind that perhaps you weren't interested in having the favor returned.

Maybe you don't particularly enjoy oral sex performed on you. Uncertain about your preferences, Harry's confident that if given the opportunity to perform cunnilingus on you, you'd undoubtedly fall in love with his skillful tongue. Just like the all the previous women who's praised his mouths abilities.

The truth is, you had desired Harry to return the favor. However, due to just waking up, you were unsure if your pussy smelled okay, let alone tasted alright. To avoid any negative response from him like you've had in the past from guys, you left before he could catch a glimpse of your moist cunt.

Nevertheless, because you're still experiencing a slight throb in your underwear, you discreetly brought one of your silicone vibrators into the shower to quickly satisfy yourself. Although you're certain that Harry's oral skills would have been superior, you'll have to wait a bit longer to get to experience that.

Once out of the shower, you dried off and got dressed to head out for the brunch you had planned with some friends. It was going to be at a small cafe in downtown London. As for Harry, he didn't really have any plans for today. Besides catching up on grading some tests his students took the Friday before. He hopes you're available tonight because he wishes to be able to spend more time with you. He loves spending time with you. He loves y..... Nope too soon for that.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @allthelovehes // @damnasstyles  // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet  // @meetmyblondemuffins  // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles  // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles  // @skyangel57   // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss  // @kissmyaxe140  // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore97 // @florencepughily  // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom  // @swiftmendeshoran

 // @luv-flor7777  // @alohastyles-x // @tenaciousperfectionunknown  // @sleutherclaw // @siredtohybrid // @whoscamila // @a-strange-familiar  // @golden-elodie // @mrspeacem1nusone //  @goldenkhae // @lntwithhrry  // @shadowygladiatorlight  // @manifestrry  //@mendesblurb // @sunshinemoonsposts  // @depersonalizationsucks // @academiaghost // @zendayassimp // @reveriehs // @vsnnstuff // @dancinsunflowerkiwi // @quinnsgrapejuice // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @justlemmeholdyou // @hsonlyangelxo // @luvonstyles // @howdey

______________

My Masterlist Masterpost

Friends Who Share Mutual Emotions {part 3.} (housemate!harry series)

#harry styles #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fic rec #friend!harry #friendrry #housemate!harry #housematerry #softrry #soft!harry #harry x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #friends to lovers #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #teacher!harry

[technically-a-kiwi]

And so the cosmic AU story continues, this time focusing on the characters

So like I said on previous post, Peppino and The Noise are one of the many cosmic duos of the cosmic realm and have the immense responsability of watching over several universes, of course thankfully watching over universes isn't a full time job and both have a part time job in the cosmic realm.

Peppino continues his job as a pizzamaker, this time being completly free of debt and only doing it out of passion.

Technically, cosmic entities don't fuel from food so eating is not nececary .But they don't care, they love Peppino's pizzas and Peppino loves making pizzas so everybody wins

As for The Noise, he remains being a TV host, exept due to now being a cosmic entity, his chanel is now only broadcasted in the cosmic realm, on top of not being able to broadcast outside the cosmic realm, he isn't allowed to diverge into any other type of media like movies, comic series etc, to make sure his image doesn't slip pass the cosmic realm. And so by being a TV host that exclusively broadcasts in the cosmic realm, The Noise is litteraly the only source of entertainment you could possibly find in the entire realm.

If you dare say outloud that you dislike his show, The Noise will make sure you'll have an "actual reason" for you to dislike his show, if you know what I mean

Got nothin much to say now... Hum... Oh ! Yeah ! I haven't quite developed on our cosmic duo nor how they are as a cosmic entity have I ? Well better late then never right x) ?

For starters, Peppino.

As a cosmic entity, Peppino is (surprisingly) quite peaceful and mostly stays in his pizzeria in the cosmic realm, only interacting with his clients and occasionaly with Gustavo.

When first turning into a cosmic entity, it screwed him up quite a lot, not only did he have to process his actual death, he also had to process being in a whole new body with immense powers and brand new responsibilities he never asked for. This gave him a whole existencial crisis making him loose most of his sanity and making him into an even bigger lunatic then usual, thankfully overtime he reached to other cosmic entities who then helped him overcome his dread, slowly getting better control over his stress and bipolarity allowing to partially regain a sense of control and stability (yeah I know it's a little edgy but hey the whole AU itself is far-fetched so who cares at this point). Now he enjoys just taking things slow and appreciate the little things, such as making pizzas for others, taking naps in some deserted pastures and stargazing on top of his roof. He still has a long way to go to fully regain his sanity and stability, but the cosmic court considers his state is good enough to be handled the fate of several universes.

During his shift as a cosmic duo. Peppino is quite efficient, miraculously despite his stress and instability he always gets the job done, he does make mistakes here and there such as not being able to keep a low-profile at all or purposly exposing himself to others which is something cosmic entities must avoid at all cost.

Now bring The Noise

As a cosmic entity, The Noise is a freaking menace, fully embracing his new title of cosmic entity to mess up with people around the multiverse, using his new powers to satisfy his urge of being the ultimate prankster, one might say he his the Loki of the cosmic realm. He mostly gets away with anything he does due to the cosmic court being a huge fan of his show (much to every other cosmic entities displeasure).

When first turning into a cosmic entity, The Noise was confused on why he respawn with such a different look. As soon as he learned he had the powers of a cosmic entity, The Noise started pranking people around the multiverse, he seaked the title of ultimate prankster and for that neaded notoriety, thus The Noise's Nebula Show was born ! As time went on his channel became less of a prank channel and more of an entertaining channel. The Noise started doing other stuff on the side out of curiosity which he found quite pleasant and directly incorporated those things in his channel,slowly becoming more diversed and interesting, using his maniac and cocky nature to become the most charismatic, lively (and only) TV host the cosmic realm has ever seen. Due to The Noise originating from the same universe as cosmic Peppino, they got paired up to become a cosmic duo, much to The Noise's displeasure, it was hard enough to bear the existance of that potato looking head when he was in the same room as him, and now he has to WORK WITH HIM ? He knew such pairing would ultimatly lead to disaster, but he did it anyway, after all he's not gonna say no to having the front sit at seing Peppino's misery and struggles.

During his shift as a cosmic duo. The Noise barely does anything, he usualy stays in the back while smoking a cigar and lets Peppino do the job, he's not going to do any kind of rescuing, that would deteriorate his status of ultimate prankster! In the rare cases where his presence is absolutly needed, he solve the problem in the most ridiculous or incovinente way possible, usualy rushing it, he doesn't really care about others safety, as long as he get's the job done that's all that matters to him.

And here it is y'all ! Truly sorry if my sentences makes no sense whatsoever, I did this post very late at night like an idiot and I'm running out of water and motivation x)

Like the last post if you have any kind of question don't hesitate to ask me I'll be glad to answer all of them.

Now I'll give u some art I didn't know where to put in the post, enjoy

#pizza tower #peppino spaghetti #the noise #pizza tower au #cosmic au

[lightlycareless]

uuu just imagine reading manga with naoya in bed while being cuddled up together <3<3

Hello!!!

Ok so this is sweet—kind of domestic amirite? oof. I love me some domestic Naoya when he's nothing but a loving husband. akgfhaksjghkjaghjkashgjas and a nerd too ahahah awww anyways...

warnings: very tiny mentions of smut. implications really. fluff outside of that.

happy reading!!

Imagine it being a cold snowy day where Naoya doesn’t have to go out on missions, tend to clan responsibilities, or anything else.

A day where he can simply spend his time in nothing but his favorite, deserving things, such as catching up with his favorite series, enjoying a well-deserved break from all those countless missions, and of course, spend time with you—his needy wife who didn’t hold back from letting him know how much she missed him.

“What would you like to do today?” is how the days would begin, with you peppering endless kisses across his face while the two snuggled underneath the sheets.

“Hmmm, I feel like spending the whole day in bed.” He sighs, kissing the top of your head. “The new chapter of the manga I told you about came out yesterday, and I want to read it.”

“I’ll make breakfast, then.” You smile, ready to push yourself up from the futon and rush to the kitchen—though Naoya had something else in mind too.

“What’s the hurry, my love?” he murmurs, pulling you back to him. “Going away from me so soon? I just came back…”

“N—No, of course not… I could never!” you blush. “I just… just wanted to make the best of today, you know? Please you.”

“You know, there’s one thing that will immediately please me.” He breathes against your ear, you shudder.

“…I still have to get your bath ready.”

“Can’t see why we can’t do both.”

You press your lips together, heated by his words.

“Ok, but we can’t get too distracted—I still want you to enjoy your day! You rarely get to rest as of lately….” You pout, he laughs before leaning to give you a kiss.

“With you by my side, there’s no way I cannot.”

After that is done, followed by a relaxing bath and a delicious meal prepared by you—Naoya insists in only being fed by you, not the staff; you happily oblige—you’re quick to take your place by his side on the futon, wrapping one of his arms around your waist and rest your head against his chest while his free hand holds up one of his favorite magazines, the one that publishes his favorite anime of the moment.

“I read they had to reprint this issue solely because of one mistake. Nothing too big, but apparently big enough to have the whole publisher pull out the magazine…”

“Gee, that must’ve been quite the task—And to allow it too! Is the author that big or something?”

“Kind of, he’s the best seller at the moment.”

“No wonder, if he’s not happy, that means no business for them.” You sigh. “I wonder if the change is even noticeable.”

“I don’t know, but that’s what I’ll figure out now—they usually point it out anyways.” Naoya squeezes you against him, kissing the top of your head.

“Well, that’s sounds like a wonderful plan!” You grin. “And if you get hungry, or want something to snack on, just let me know and I’ll bring it to you.”

Naoya blushes.

“I love you.”

It’s your turn to blush.

“I love you too.”

The rest of the evening would go on that way, with Naoya reading his manga, eyes intently fixed on the panels while murmuring to himself whenever particularly interesting scene occurs, if not scoffing when a character does something stupid—just as he did in real life; both gestures that you found incredibly cute, how relaxed he is when doing things he loves.

And though he was very focused on that, he was still attentive enough to your presence and gestures, hands and lips looking for yours whenever you reached out to him or vice versa, as well as allowing you to feed him, careful enough to not distract him that much.

Because you just couldn’t snap him out of trance, you know? He looked so adorable!!

Although it would turn a bit… too much soon enough.

“I don’t—I don’t want anything else, Y/N—” he protests when you try to shove another piece of popcorn into his mouth, going as far as moving away, but you simply stuck to him.

“Come on, you have to eat!”

“Not to this point!” Naoya gasps, stomach full to the point of exploding! Of so it feels. “I don’t—I don’t want anything else!”

“Tough luck, Naoya—If you didn’t want me to spoil you, you shouldn’t have stayed home!” you giggle, and Naoya just relents, because he can’t do anything else when he’s putty to both your adorable charm and insistence, his beloved wife.

A side of Naoya that fortunately, is just for your eyes to see.

I just realized that Naoya was the kind of guy to say: "I want a wife that is submissive, that is only attentive to me and knows her place and yadda yadda yadda" until you came along and he was like "ok I like that but... I also want kisses...."

Idk I just keep thinking he's very desperate for affection hahaha call it ooc I DO NOT CARE I AM IN LOVE WITH HIM. 😶😶

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this small thing 🥺❤️ him getting all flustered because you're always so caring to him is AGH healing!!! We could literally change him...

Now, thank you so much for sending in this ask ❤️❤️❤️ take care and hope to see you soon!!!

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

[astrababyy]

i think the thing that frustrates me the most about feyre's character post-acotar — hell, even post-acomaf — is that she stops being a character past that point in the series. acomaf, i can still see elements of feyre's original character, but i think acowar and beyond (especially acofas and acosf) is where her character devolves completely into something virtually unrecognizable. and this, in my opinion, is because once she and rhysand become established in their relationship, her entire characterization starts to revolve around him.

prior to acomaf/acowar, feyre has a personality independent of the relationships she has with other people. her characterization has its flaws, as the first book is flawed as a whole, but she's generally a decently-crafted character. feyre is an interesting character because, in the first portion of the book, we learn that she's a jaded, clever huntress who is willing to kill to survive and make painful decisions for the good of herself and her family. she's bitter, resentful, and miserable, and the crux of her life revolves around survival.

but then we learn new things. feyre loves painting, and if she had a choice, she'd marry off her sisters and live peacefully with her father, spending her days painting anything her heart could desire. she's capable and an able killer, but her dreams and wants are for a peaceful life. these desires are expanded upon later in the book when we learn that, if given the option, feyre wouldn't kill. she's jaded and can come off as someone who'd be a stereotypical "girlboss," badass killer. but in reality, feyre doesn't like bloodshed. she doesn't like killing, and if she had it her way, she'd never kill another living thing again.

this is interesting. acotar!feyre is actually a very interesting and dynamic character when compared to who she becomes in later books. she has an internal conflict that affects every aspect of who she is, and it is this conflict that is so deeply tied to what she's forced to do in the climax of the story: either kill innocent faeries or watch as the love of her life dies before her very eyes. this final trial is so painful because it's been established that, in a peaceful environment, a killer is not someone feyre wants to be, and a killer is instead what she's forced to become.

then, of course, acomaf happens and yada, yada, yada. she's still a relatively interesting character on her own, if (arguably) ooc, but has an independent characterization regardless. it's after this book where things take a turn for the worse.

in acowar, feyre is no longer the character who protects the "little guy" and would give up petty jewels to make sure a faerie can eat. she's no longer the character who acts based on her morals and inherent humanity, rather than faerie logic. instead, she's the character who destabilizes an entire court on the brink of war, uncaring of the consequences to the people of spring. in acofas, she's buying another goddamn house while people in velaris and beyond are struggling to make ends' meet following the war that she and rhys dragged them into. in acosf, she's doing the same fucking thing to nesta that destroyed and traumatized her a few books previous, and she's become the glorified housewife to rhysand. she's having his kid when she's not even 25 yet. she's being paraded around like some prized horse. she's sitting around, painting and decorating houses, while rhys does all the actual politicking. she's exactly what she feared she'd become in acomaf, and there's no consequence whatsoever.

this is not the feyre of acotar. this feyre is the faceless, empty love interest to the real main character: rhysand. she's a reflection of him. that's why she went from the woman who feels uncomfortable wearing fancy jewels to the woman who'd spend her newfound millions on frivolous lingerie rather than do anything meaningful with her position as high lady. that's why she went from the character who had respect and a new understanding of nesta in book 1, to the character that'd do such horrendous things to her in acosf. that's why she stands around and lets rhys and amren bully and degrade nesta. she's not a character anymore. she's just rhysand's mate.

#anti sjm #anti rhysand #sjm critical #acotar meta #acotar #feyre archeron #astrababyy #anyway fuck rhysand #the way he treats feyre is disgusting #and she would NEVER let half the shit he does slide if she was still the character she'd once been #anti acowar #anti acosf #anti acofas

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

No Nut November - Slash

A/n: This is my personal favourite but that might just be because Slash is my favourite, him and duff... might have to write something with the both of them...

Warnings: Smut, no nut November, oral sex(f receiving), fingering(f receiving), cum eating, slight breeding kink??, if you think I missed anything please let me know otherwise enjoy the final part to this short series :3

Intro

To be honest, he had no idea what the bet was. He tuned everything out and didn’t think twice about it. Axl called him later and told him no fucking before Steven. That made no sense to him and he just went home to go about his time.

When he got home he tried to explain it to you over dinner. Which was hard when he didn’t know what he was talking about in the first place. He managed to get the point across about not having sex for the month of November, you were upset but given the circumstances let it pass. You didn’t want to be missing out on a whole month of sex, however something you hadn’t thought about until the next.

You were downstairs making breakfast, as per usual because your manchild doesn’t know how to cook. Frankly you don’t want him to try, you like your house nice and not burn down. You were getting the plates set up when you remembered you had to go out of town for a family thing.

You rushed upstairs to your shared bedroom and found Slash stretched out over the bed. You gently shook him awake and told him about it. “So even if we wanted to do something we couldn’t!” You exclaimed. Slash stared at you blankly, clearly not awake.

“Alright.” He mumbled and face planted into his pillow. You smiled at him, brushing his hair out of the way and giving him a kiss on his forehead.

“Breakfast is ready, by the way.” He groaned.

You went about your day as you usually did, taking some time to pack your bags. You crawled into bed with Slash and he curled up nice and tight to you for a last night together before you left in the morning, likely before he’d wake up for breakfast.

Since you weren’t home for the majority of the month this challenge was easy for you. Slash called whining about it to you more than once but nothing ever actually happened, more often than not one of you would end up talking the other to sleep which was more than welcomed.

When you got back it was between him and Izzy but that was quick to end. Slash came home tired and hugged you from behind while you were cooking. “Izzy’s out.” He mumbled into the crook of your neck.

“Oh, yeah?” You responded. “That means you’re the only one left, right?” Slash was silent for a moment as he thought about it. In the end he never did give you an answer.

Slash dropped to his knees behind you and pulled your pants down. “When the fuck did you get these?” You looked down at him, cheeks red and brows raised in confusion. Slash shook his head and tore your panties off of you before forcefully spreading your legs and licking your flushed cunt.

You abandoned your cooking, turning the stove off while you could as Slash’s tongue worked tirelessly between your folds. You gasped at the feeling, holding onto the counter as he held you down on his face. He sucked your clit and dipped his tongue into you, eating you up so deliciously you could’ve cum right then and there.

Slash pulled back and stood up behind you, harshly bringing you to the island behind you so he could bend you over it. He pulled himself out of his jeans and gave his cock a few strokes as he stared down at your ass. “Been waiting too long for this.” He gleamed in that soft, raspy voice of his before pushing himself all the way into you.

He groaned loudly behind you while you let out a high pitched whine against the cold marble under you. He didn’t waste a single moment before pounding into you, gripping your hips with a bruising hold.

Oftentimes Slash wasn’t quiet, especially when he was needy or pent up and right now he was both. The house filled with echoed sounds of skin slapping on slick skin, your whines and Slash’s grunts and moans.

Your body bounced up and down the island surface with every thrust. Slash couldn’t take his eyes off of where your bodies met, where he disappeared into you before pulling out and pushing back in. He watched in pure amazement as you took him all in with ease.

“Slash! Slash, ‘m gonna-gonna cum!” You whined, hands twitching as your body quickly lost control of itself.

“Fuck, me too, ‘m gonna cum inside.” He said and with a few more thrusts he sent you over the edge. Your body quivered as you squirt on his dick. Slash followed you over and came inside you, coating your gummy walls in a thick layer of his seed just as he said he would.

Of course he didn’t even think to give you a moment to recuperate. He pulled you up and spun you around to face him, crashing his plump lips against yours. You could still taste yourself on his tongue as it danced with yours, saliva mixing together and dribbling down your chin in his haste to feel good.

He groped your body, ass, chest, whatever he could reach. He pulled you tight to him and tugged on your skin, slapping your ass and shoving a finger or two into you just to make you squirm. He hoisted you up onto the counter, lined himself up and slid into you, getting into a rhythm and hitting that spot in you that had you seeing stars.

Fuck, you loved the way he made you feel. His mouth never left you as he rut into you like a dog, desperate for release once more. He was a whining mess as he got closer, in turn bringing you closer as well.

You moaned loudly in his ear while he sucked on the sensitive skin of your neck. One of his hands was buried in your hair, tugging on it gently, while the other went to rub your clit, overstimulating you a bit.

You gripped his shoulders. Your nails dug into his back and without warning he came in you again. He paused for a moment, cock still stuffed deep inside of you as he processed what just happened. Once he had, at least mostly, he continued fucking you. He’d lost any sense of rhythm and you were sure he was overstimulating himself at this point so you gently pushed him back.

“‘M ok, Slash, don’t have to keep going.” You assured, though you weren’t thrilled with the idea. Slash stopped again and pulled out and went back on his knees. His lips suctioned to yours as he ate you once more, though now he was licking his own cum out of you. He didn’t seem to care, all his mind was set on was making you cum and when his lips latched onto your clit and sucked, his tongue swirling around it while he looked up at you with the sweetest puppy eyes you couldn’t help it.

You squirted on his face, your cum mixing with his as it hit his chin, getting in his mouth. He didn’t pull away until he was sure you were done.

He stood up and wrapped his arms around you, burying his sticky face in the crook of your neck. He pulled you off the counter but your legs were shaking so bad you couldn’t hold yourself up. Slash wasn’t in much better condition and slowly lowered the both of you to the ground so he could hold you properly.

#guns n roses #guns n roses fanfic #guns n roses x reader #guns n roses smut #slash guns n roses #guns n roses imagine #gnr fic #gnr #gnr smut #gnr x reader #gnr fanfiction #slash #slash fic #slash fanfiction #slash gnr #slash smut #slash x reader #slash x you

[quin-ns]

The blue (JJ Maybank x Reader)

Series summary: JJ has a secret, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold onto it. He discovers his breaking point when his best friend starts to show interest in you, his step sister, who he’s already fallen hard for

Series tags: step brother!jj, dual pov, jealousy, one sided john b x reader, drinking, inappropriate relationship, public sex, oral sex (f receiving)

A/N: first series I’ve finished and I could not be more excited to share! please read the tags and if the subject matter is uncomfortable to you, you do not have to read. this one is a wild ride guys, I can’t wait for you to see what I have in store 🫶

Series masterlist + OBX masterlist

JJ didn’t really understand how this happened, but it did. When he tried to trace it all back, there wasn’t really one big moment. Just a bunch of small individual moments that amounted to… this. This feeling. This thing that kept him up at night that he couldn’t seem to get rid of.

He’d never been in love before, so it took JJ awhile to realize that’s what he felt for you.

Or maybe it was the denial. The moral part of his brain telling him it wasn’t normal. Your mom was married to his dad, so according to everyone else’s rules that made you his step sister—even if he didn’t think about you in that context anymore.

He used to, when you both were younger, before your mom got arrested. A large part of why JJ was so happy when you came into his life was because his dad eased up on him, finding some semblance of happiness with your mom.

But she wasn’t exactly perfect. To be with his dad, JJ always wondered what was wrong. As it would turn out, she had serious issues, but what they got her for was being a tax cheat. It added up how they could’ve met after that.

It was getting to be around… what, a little over a year since that happened? JJ couldn’t really keep track of the months, and you never liked to talk about it.

As much as JJ loved his father, he knew he wasn’t a good guy, even if he wanted him to be. So it surprised him when his dad still let you stay with them, but you’d been around since you were both about thirteen, so even if his dad didn’t think of himself as responsible for you (or even JJ), he at least cared enough to not throw you to the street.

That was about the same JJ got from him, and recognizing that is what brought you closer to him.

Sure, you’d been sort of close growing up, but not really. You mostly spent time with your mom and your own friends. Then, when everything went down, you lost your mom and your friends followed not long after. He saw the puffiness in your eyes when you’d come home and go to your room for the whole night. No one to hang out with after school and nowhere to go on a Saturday night. They had ditched you, apparently deciding that mocking you was more important than being there for you. It made his stomach hurt to see you in such a state. You didn’t smile for days.

So JJ, being the good step brother that he was, stepped in. He took you under his wing and brought your smile back.

You fit in well with his friends, easily becoming a part of the group. They liked having you around, and JJ felt like he got to know you in a way he hadn’t ever before.

It was selfish, but you made being at home easier. You kept him company when he stayed up too late and made sure to wake him up in the morning so he wouldn’t be late to work whatever odd job he had at the time.

Whenever his dad hit him, which started again not long after your mom was locked up, you were there to take care of him.

You were so sweet with him, eyes full of care and touches gentle as you cleaned his cuts or iced his bruises. It made it hurt less.

After one night, when his dad hit him, leaving a cut from one of his rings on JJ’s face, you came to his aid as you frequently did. His dad stormed out, so it was just the two of you as you cleaned his face. You had him sit on the couch and stood over him, one hand holding his face while the other held a cloth to make sure the cut was clean.

As JJ stared up at you, your frustrated words about his father falling on deaf ears, one jarring thought crossed his mind.

You should kiss her.

He’d immediately stood up, snapping himself out of whatever daze he was in, and went to his room. You’d tried to talk to him, but he brushed you off and said he was tired. When he asked to be left alone, which was rare, you did.

He didn’t sleep most of the night, staring up at his ceiling wondering where that thought had even come from. He’d never had it before, but from that moment on, JJ started to become much more aware of everything you did—everything you did for him.

Of course his friends loved him and cared about him, and he did the same for them, but with you, something about it just felt different. You were by his side nearly every moment of the day. You saw things they didn’t, and you were there when they couldn’t be.

You became everything to JJ. There was no other way to put it.

That was a couple months ago, and since then, his realization had morphed into something far more.

JJ was deeply, madly in love with you, which was not something a guy should be with his step sister, but he was. He didn’t really deal with it, just shoved it down and tried to ignore it. It was hard, especially when he was around you every single day, but JJ had done his best.

JJ would catch himself staring at you more than he’d admit, but no one seemed to notice. No one would suspect what he was thinking anyway. He made excuses to touch you, like a hand on your back when moving past you to get something or draping his arm over your shoulder and leaning on you jokingly. The latter made you laugh, and he’d join you, but he’d still feel a loss when you playfully nudged him away and told him you weren’t an armrest.

Sometimes, when he didn’t care how pathetic it was, he’d let himself drink too much, just so he could lean on you when you’d help him inside. When he pulled that stunt, sometimes he’d get lucky and you’d even stay by his side to make sure he went to sleep comfortably. And of course, whenever his dad struck, fists full of misplaced rage, you were there, easing the pain.

JJ resolved to take what he could get, and eventually he’d move on.

At least, he hoped that’s how it would go. Maybe he’d get lucky and—

“Hello?” You waved a hand in front of JJ’s face. “I’m talking to you.”

JJ blinked. He looked at you, zoning back in. In an instant, he remembered what was going on. You and him, along with his three best friends, were all on the beach. The others were in the water, while you had been sunbathing on shore and JJ… well, he’d just been sitting by you, wanting to be in your proximity (and sometimes steal glances when he couldn’t help himself).

But now you were on your feet, leaning down as you dropped your hand. JJ’s eyes fell from your face to your chest, and he swallowed when he caught a glimpse down your bikini top.

His eyes flicked back to your face. Was that too obvious? He hoped not.

“Sorry, what?”

You gave him a confused look, but laughed and straightened up.

“Do you wanna get in?”

He knew you meant the water, and in the distance he saw his friends waving for the two of you to join them.

JJ shook his head, and the action felt as if it were in slow motion. Kind of like when he was high, but much less carefree.

“Um, maybe in a bit.”

If he got too distracted he’d probably drown in the ocean—if the guilt of keeping his secret from you didn’t do it first.

You shrugged, not able to read him the way you usually could.

“If you’re scared, there might be some floaties somewhere,” you teased as you turned your back, heading for the water.

JJ couldn’t formulate a comeback, too focused on the swing on your hips as you walked away from him.

He squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed again, questioning his own self what was wrong with him. He’s never experienced such a desperate feeling before. What were you doing to him?

When he opened his eyes, you were in the water, and he had no answers.

He tried to focus on the sand, the water, the sky—anything but you. He even tried to look at Kiara just to see if it would work, but his eyes always drifted back to you, the ache in his chest growing with each passing minute.

JJ didn’t think much of it when he saw Kiara suddenly haul herself up onto Pope’s shoulders, but he felt like he got kicked in the stomach when you climbed onto John B’s.

John B’s arms locked around your legs, the two of you laughing loudly as you steadied yourself. JJ could hear it from shore—you weren’t that far out. JJ knew he was focusing far more than necessary because he saw the way your hands brushed John B’s hair out of his face as he tilted his head back to look up at you.

Even from where he was, JJ could see how you smiled down at John B. It was innocent and friendly, and it made him incredibly jealous.

You and Kiara started to go at it, trying to knock the other into the water.

JJ didn’t think anyone noticed when he stood and walked down to the edge of the sand.

“You’re going down!” Kiara shouted, her hands interlocked with and pushing against yours as you both refused to budge.

You laughed loudly. It was like music.

It took one exchanged look from you and John B to formulate a plan. It was the kind of silent communication that JJ thought you reserved for him.

You let Kiara lean a lot of weight on you, and that’s where your advantage was. In an instant, you relaxed your grip and John B stepped to the side. The other girl, and Pope beneath her, wobbled. It was over in a second. The two shouted right before they crashed down into the water.

“Ha!” you exclaimed, raising your hands in the air while John B whooped and hollered in celebration.

Kiara and Pope emerged, both rolling their eyes. It was their turn to share a look, and as JJ waded into the water, he figured out their plan.

With the two of them jumping at John B, it was easy to knock him off his feet. JJ’s eyes went a little wide when you fell into the water with a crash.

“Did you see that?” Kiara yelled with a grin when she spotted JJ.

“Kinda hard to miss,” he responded, looking around the water. It had been a few seconds and you had yet to reappear.

“They’re just messing with us,” Pope commented on your and John B’s absence, but his words started to sound less sure by the end.

Another long beat of silence passed. The waves grew still.

“This isn’t funny anymore!” Kie shouted.

JJ felt a twinge of panic, awful scenarios flashing through his head. It didn’t matter how unlikely they were.

Suddenly, water erupted. John B arose with a splash, with you clinging to his back. He roared dramatically while shoving water towards Kie and Pope. They screamed as the waves hit them, trying and failing to shield themselves.

“Revenge!” you yelled in a maniacal manner, chin on John B’s shoulder.

“Truce! Truce!” Kie and Pope both yelled, spitting out saltwater.

John B paused, and JJ noticed how close his face was to yours when he turned his head.

“Should we forgive them?” John B deferred to you.

You hummed thoughtfully. “I think they learned their lesson,” you decided. Your gaze, which had been focused on John B, shifted past him. “Hey, look who made it!”

JJ realized you were talking to him. He forced a smile, smothering the jealousy he felt at seeing you and John B in the position you were in. It seemed weirdly close for you two. You and John B weren’t usually touchy-feely-piggyback-ride friends.

John B seemed to pick up on JJ’s shift in demeanor, because his smile was a little more contained as he said, “Hey, man.”

JJ figured his friend didn’t get that he was jealous, which was for the best. Everyone knew JJ was protective over you, and John B probably thought JJ was questioning his intentions as your brother. Why would it be anything else?

“Nice victory,” JJ replied, having nothing better to say. He didn’t even grit his teeth, so he counted that as a win for himself.

Tension eased as you all decided to just chat and relax in the water until the sun set.

Although, JJ kept an eye on John B, noticing how his friend kept an eye on you.

When it got dark and you all began to head back to the shore, JJ found himself at your side. Your steps fell in line with his as you looked up.

“You feeling okay?” you asked lightly. You must’ve sensed his attitude shift, even if it was subtle. “You’ve been quieter than usual.”

JJ couldn’t help the urge to smile at how well you knew him.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied, not wanting to concern you. He liked when you worried about him, but this was the one time when he didn’t want you pressing for him to open up. “Are you?”

JJ reached to ruffle your damp hair. You swatted his hand away before he could do any real damage.

“Very funny,” you grumbled. Your expression shifted to a smile, then softened. There was something careful about it. “If something was up, you’d tell me, right?”

JJ swallowed, trying to avoid the way your eyes searched his. He had to look forward before he could answer.

“Yeah, of course,” he assured.

JJ didn’t remember falling asleep on the couch, but he remembered everyone sitting around the living room.

Wait, no. That wasn’t right.

The porch. Everyone has been sitting on the porch, drinking and laughing together. He recalled cramming himself into a chair next to you, playing it off like a joke. Everyone had laughed, and he got to be close to you, so it worked out.

He also remembered following Kiara and Pope inside, expecting you to be behind him.

Everything clicked.

You and John B had elected to stay outside, and JJ had been sitting on the couch, watching through the window, trying to make out what you were saying through the small opening where the window was cracked for the nighttime breeze.

He must’ve dozed off while waiting for you. That didn’t sound like him—he would’ve been focused on watching you, making sure you made it in. Maybe he had been worn out or you stayed up way too late, or both.

JJ blinked a few times. He was just concerned for your safety, like always. Fenced in porches with lights and his best friend keeping you company could be dangerous…

Yeah, he didn’t even buy that.

It was easier back when JJ believed his own lies and self justifications.

Sitting up, JJ peered out the window. It was the early hours of the morning, right around when it was still dark but you could just tell the sun was about to begin rising. His heart sped up when he found you missing from your chair. You weren’t in any of the other chairs in his view, either.

He stood up, feeling more awake than ever, and went right for the door. He didn’t care about waking anyone inside up.

“Jeez, man,” John B said suddenly, sounding surprised as he looked at him. JJ had just barged out onto the porch out of nowhere. “You good?”

JJ took a second to observe his friend. He half-sitting and half-laying back on the couch against the wall, which made sense because he’d been sitting there before. From inside, JJ couldn’t see him, but he didn’t even think about John B’s whereabouts until he stepped out.

Maybe he was a bad friend for that.

He didn’t feel that guilty, though, because he saw where you were; sleeping on John B with your head on his thigh. You were curled up on your side, facing away from his body, and JJ could see how steadily you were breathing.

JJ looked back at his friend, ready to lash out, but the word ‘irrational’ popped up in his mind and resisted. Just from the scene in front of him, it’s not like he had anything to be mad about.

Jealous, maybe, but not mad. But he couldn’t act on that feeling either. If he acted jealous, that would invite too many questions that JJ didn’t have a good answer for.

“Fine just…” He ran a hand through his hair and then shook his head. “You guys good?”

John B furrowed his brows a little, but chuckled.

“Yeah, we’re fine. We were just talking and she started to fall asleep and I just let her. She seemed tired and it wasn’t a big deal so...”

“What were you guys talking about?”

“I don’t know, stuff?”

JJ leaned back in the doorway. “Like what, though?”

John B tilted his head a little, shaking it ever so slightly.

“Just… life and stuff. Does it matter?”

“I guess not,” JJ replied, giving the appropriate answer. He looked down at you, noticing you hadn’t stirred. You looked comfortable, and that was very conflicting. All of this was. It made his head hurt. “Has she been asleep long?”

John B met JJ’s eyes when he looked back up from you.

“You sure you’re okay?” John B asked, sounding almost concerned. Or at least confused. Maybe both.

But the answer was no. No he wasn’t.

“Yeah, man,” JJ answered with a shrug. “She probably won’t wake up if you wanna get up and go get some sleep.”

John B looked down at you, then at JJ.

He slowly started to move, being extra careful with your head, making sure to put a cushion beneath you before standing up straight.

John B gave a light, awkward smile to JJ as he neared him. He brushed past to go through the door, turning to face JJ.

“You coming?”

“Actually, I think I’m gonna sleep out here,” JJ answered, fighting the urge to look at you. He gave a shrug instead and said, “It’s nice out and I can’t get comfortable on the couch anyway. You can have it—plus I think Kie’s in your bed, so…”

“Right…” John B agreed slowly, glancing at you on the couch again. “You know nothing happened, right?” He looked back at JJ. “We were just talking.”

JJ wasn’t expecting something so direct. “It’s cool man, I know,” he found himself replying. “We’re good.”

John B nodded, albeit slowly. He entered the dark house, and JJ shut the door behind him. As a courtesy.

He then turned, spotted the comfiest chair, and resolved to sleep in that for the night. You had stretched out on the couch and looked too peaceful to disturb, even if he did want to take John B’s place from before.

It worked out perfectly, because it gave him a clear view of you as he decided to let himself go back to sleep.

As his eyes closed, he wondered if John B would peek through the window just as he had.

If he did, he’d see the content smile on JJ’s face as he drifted off to sleep. For yet another night, JJ got you all to himself. He didn’t want it any other way. He wasn’t sure what he would do.

#stepbrother!jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank x you #step bro!jj maybank #the blue #obx #outer banks #quin-ns writing

[soyellowcurtainsthen]

Who’s the man at the prison gate in the Pit Babe Series 2 Trailer?!?!?

Hi, I’m an idiot with an internet connection So, here is my totally accurate and scientifically sound analysis in support of my theory that it’s Pete. Grab your tinfoil hats friends and follow me down the rabbit hole.

First, I’m going to need you to turn your brain off and live in a world with me in which we won’t even consider that this is a new character who has not been introduced yet ( jokes on me because change2561 would pull this type of thing).

Now we need to narrow down the pool of candidates from our currently known characters. Obviously if our Prison throuple of Kenta, Winner and Dean are out of prison and spying on the X-Hunter squad we can safely assume the person who got them out isn’t likely to be in the inner circle of the X-Hunter team, so we can safely disregard Babe, Charlie, Alan, Jeff, North, Sonic, and Kim. Now we have three players in the running- Way, Pete and Tony.

So let’s get to narrowing this down, behold Exhibit A

Our man in black stays out of focus for most of the clip, but from what we can see it seems that this man is dressed in a suit and as we never see Way ever dressed in those types of clothes the whole season I think it’s fair to also vote him off the Island.

Now to our final two candidates, it’s time to analyse some heights baby!!! We are going to use Kenta as a control subject, height wise, for this as he is the most likely of the prison throuple to have had scenes with both the remaining candidates.

So let’s start with Tony, it’s ridiculously difficult to get shots of these two together where Kenta isn’t half a mile behind and throwing off the perspective because of that, but I tried my best.

As you can see from these over the shoulder shots, Tony and Kenta’s eye level looks to be about the same, with them being almost exactly the same height ( Tony being slightly taller at a push). With this shot also confirming that they are very similar in height to each other.

Moving onto Pete, we can see that our baby boys have a bit of a height difference, with Kenta being the shorter of the two. His eyeline whenever talking to Pete is directed upward.

Now let’s head back to the original shot of the mystery man’s back and use our new found knowledge, and attempt to solve this by using the ancient scientific method of drawing lines on pictures.

As Winner isn’t standing at full height I’m disregarding him from the experiment, much like I wish I could disregard him from the narrative completely.

So let’s draw onto our screenshot where Kenta and Dean’s eyeline should land if they were looking at someone that was of similar height to them.

And now let’s draw where their actual eyeline ends up, taking into consideration where our mystery man’s shoulders are to give us a rough estimate of where their eyeline should land if they were looking at his face, which they are.

Now as you can see from my totally foolproof scientific method, both of their eyelines are pointed slightly upward indicating that the person on the other side of the gate is taller than both Kenta and Dean. Now there is only one of our candidates who is taller than Kenta and that leaves us with only on option left… Pete.

I rest my case.

( Also just on the logical side, why would Tony get the man who betrayed him and stabbed him out of jail, like that makes no narrative sense)

#I have half a science degree and I’m not afraid to use it #I will take no constructive criticism at this time #only my Nobel prize #you’re damn right I’ll try and shoehorn in PeteKenta crumbs to the trailer #pit babe the series #pit babe series 2 #meta post #my meta posts

[eddies-house]

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Fourteen - A Merry Little Christmas

W/C: 7.5K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Have yourself a merry little Christmas…

(Cover) Phoebe Bridgers

Warnings: mentions of bad childhood, mentions of parent’s death, issues with mental health, allusion to a suicide attempt, self harm but not, just appears to be, blood, let me know if I missed anything. In all fairness this is a heavy chapter in the beginning. Oh and also, smut 👀

A/N: this took literally forever to write…only because I couldn’t write for like months lmao. But I spent all day basically fleshing most of this all out and there’s a lot of emotion put into it and not too much editing cause I already overthought everything I wrote as I wrote it, dare I say I put my whole fuckin pussy into this chapter. Next chapter will be the final one in the series 😭

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Christmas Eve was supposed to be different this year.  

A senseless daydream.  

It was dad’s last kick to his gut, he knows it.  Eddie finally had a good thing going for him but alas the Munson’s were cursed and he could never escape.  This was some kind of final revenge for not hanging around like a lost puppy though it wasn’t even his choice to leave Hawkins in the first place.  It didn’t matter, life never spared Eddie a precious moment.  

So he sat there, salty tears still somehow leaking out of him despite how tired he was, despite how wrong it felt.  Last week his dad was the most hated man in his life.  And last week he was suddenly dead.  It didn’t make sense, the devastation that consumed Eddie.  All he knew was that sunlight began leaking through the blinds and dotting the floor.  Birds were chirping annoyingly outside and his skin started to feel like cold cuts and despite how uncomfortable it made him, he couldn’t find it in himself to get off his ass and at least put a sweatshirt on.  

He had promised you breakfast, down the road at that little diner called Reggie’s.  Promised to get you the biggest stack of pancakes covered in whipped cream and all kinds of sprinkles along with the best, artery clogging bacon you would ever taste.  Maybe some scrambled eggs and hashbrowns.  

Whatever you wanted. 

He hadn’t seen you in days, not since the recent news broke.  His excuse of harboring the flu was not how he wanted to start daily phone calls with you.  He knew you would then mistake the stuffiness in his voice for phlegm and not his inner sorrows burrowing their way out of him.  He refused your offer to bring him homemade soup and hot tea, rejected the kindness he hadn’t deserved in the first place.  Told you that he just wanted to get healthy quickly and it wouldn’t do either of you any good to both be sick.  He left you in charge of the bar, much to Jett’s disdain, Eddie didn’t need you to confirm that for him he just knew.

Now just standing up seemed impossible.  Shifting his position on the couch to at least relieve the pressure against his tail bone wasn’t plausible.  And for what?  For a man that never gave an inch when Eddie gave him miles upon miles, practically handed over his life on several occasions.  Pathetic, he knew.  But the pain didn’t cease and he couldn’t even find it in himself to turn his head to check the time.

This was it.  

This was how you were going to come face to face with the fact that Eddie was no man.  Not a real one anyway, a facade if anything.  He could just picture it: you would await his knock at the door and it wouldn't come.  A giddy smile would spread across your face as you thought about your plans of going sledding together–he sees it so vividly in his mind.  And then you would be massively disappointed when he couldn’t deliver.  The creases at your eyes when you got overly excited would cease to exist at the mere idea of him.  He had it coming, he just didn’t think it would be so soon.

Eddie told you he was feeling better.  It was a lie.  He never had the flu.  He didn’t feel better.  He wanted to die.  And the man responsible for it wouldn’t even give a shit had he still been alive.  Now he was dead and Eddie was the one suffering.

And so his neglected stomach grumbled, his incoming stubble itched though he couldn’t find a fuck to give even in his discomfort, and the whiskey bottle ran dry far too soon.  His brain had been clogged with wishes and what he could’ve done, then declarations of it never being enough, a constant tug-of-war that migraines were made of.

He never stood a chance, his DNA had always been coded like a mutant, at least that’s how it felt deep in his bones.  There was always something off, he never resonated with life in general how everyone else did.  A flaw in the system.  And he built his entire being off of it, afterall he never had any control over the way he was perceived so what option did he have?  

Several.

He thought to himself.  

You could have gone to school, shown up.  

Could have stayed out of detention.

Gotten arrested less.

Not get arrested at all.

Could have said no.  So.  Many.  Times.

In all honesty he wanted to blame his old man but he couldn’t stop taking the hits for him even in death.  He couldn’t stop making excuses.  Any normal person would feel relief but he felt nothing but remorse.  For what, he couldn’t exactly piece it together.  Maybe it was a hidden desire to fix him, a glimmer of hope that he could make him turn his life around like Eddie had.  It would never happen, he was well aware, but a certain childish hope clung onto him, tugging on his sleeve, begging himself for reasons.

Until familiar curls similar to his own and an aura of the gentlest kind clouded his vision.  He could nearly hear her voice, smooth as butter and warm as the summer sun when he was a freckled kid.  Rosy cheeks and beautiful chocolatey brown button eyes to match his.

What’s the matter darlin’?

And he just sobbed.  And remembered.

Morning pancakes and the blues.  Muddy clothes and bubble baths laced with melodies.  Kitchen table haircuts, the softest voice humming in his ears, half inch curls littering the linoleum.  Dancing in the living room.  Refusing to eat his broccoli until she told him they were tiny trees.  Walking hand in hand to the corner store for milk and eggs, the promise of a sucker waiting for him at the cash register widening his innocent grin.  Late night cereal bowls when sleep wasn’t an option and nothing did the trick except some off brand Lucky Charms and tales of dragons and fantasy lands he wished they could run away to.

Then he remembered.

Him.

Stumbling into the kitchen on those nights more often than not, spewing nonsense.  Breaking the refrigerator door as he tripped while seeking another beer.  That door forever being duct taped and never properly fixed as promised.  Mama coaxing dad to bed before she slipped into Eddie’s tiny twin bed for the night, most nights.  Dad waking up just to shut the music off in the morning so he could sleep in.  Disappearing for days.

Mama unexpectedly passing and Eddie being so devastated that he didn’t eat for days and willingly waited at the door every day for pops to get home.  Only he rarely did.  Wayne checking in each and every day only to be on the receiving end of a temper tantrum each time.  Years and years of push back.  A clueless kid defending Indiana’s worst dad in the name of seeking some kind of normalcy.  

“My dad has a ton of jobs.”  He would beam, bright eyes and missing teeth.  

The kids would snicker.  Their mocking smiles would be mistaken for a token of friendliness.  And Eddie would once again be disappointed come the end of the day.  Because he’d realized it wasn’t normal to crawl under fences where dad couldn’t fit, to steal expensive things from “higher class pricks” as dad deemed them.  Take your kid to work day had a very different definition in his book.

So Eddie steered away from telling everyone about his dad’s work antics, opted to tell them about how he got to go to the bar with his old man every Wednesday, thinking he’d surely get praise for being considered so mature.  At least that’s how dad described it.  It wasn’t any better and the reactions were only worse.  They called his dad a drunk.  They weren’t wrong but that didn’t make him feel any less enraged.  “Spawn of Satan”, they called Eddie.  Because in truth that’s what his dad was, he just couldn’t comprehend it at the time.  Then came the christening of his formal title, a word so small but so…derogatory with the way it was spat at him.

Freak.

Spawn of Satan sounded so much worse on paper but Freak made his insides hurt.  And as he recounts the events of his life up until now, he tallies everything up.  Closure in some kind of fucked up way.  Childish thoughts of “he was still my dad” try to take over but are quickly replaced by images of their burning house, the records going up and flames and ash coating everything he had left, everything she had left.

Suddenly there’s broken glass scattered across the floor and warm blood trickling down his arm, not by any fault of his own, just pure rage and unknown strength annihilating the poor glass he attempted to drink water with.  Heartbeat in his ear, he swallows thickly and resumes his position against the kitchen cabinet–they’re going to send me back to the asylum.

All over again, even in the afterlife, dad plays his sick jokes.  Gets Eddie into trouble he never sought out–he was just getting water, it was just water and now he looks like the picture perfect case for mental instability.  No one’s seen him for days and–there’s knocking at the door.  He swears it’s not like last time- it can’t be like last time, he didn’t mean it.  This isn’t like back in Hawkins, when he was healing and the courts were making their decisions.  He thought he was a goner, decided to pull the plug to save everyone the trouble, Wayne was at work, Steve was getting him groceries, everyone else was dealing with the end of the world.  They shouldn’t have to worry about me.  With a bottle of prescribed pills in hand.

The knocking turning urgent, conclusions are drawn up in a scattered, tormented mind–surely they’d rip up his contract, the agreement in which he had been assured a promising life anywhere but Indiana.  A life he’d always longed for anyway.  

Be careful what you wish for.  

That goddamn voice taunts him.

The door shakes, manhandled from the other side and he’s forced to confront the final moments before he’s permanently put away.  “One slip up…”  They had said.  It didn’t matter if he told them it was an accident, nothing mattered if it was anyone else’s word against him.  Literally anyone.  As long as it appeared that he was a danger to himself, he was a danger to society. They were probably waiting for this moment: lock up the problem child and throw away the key.  

Cause he was nothing if not a problem.  First and foremost.

Heart beating out of his chest, breath caught in his throat, he could practically hear the sirens whether they be from an ambulance or police car or both, they were coming–

“Eddie?”

It all stopped.  

“Eddie?!”  

There was no accurate way to describe the sob that clawed its way out of his throat, a tortured cry.  The scene before you had been pulled straight out of a horror movie: your beloved Eddie covered in blood, palms pressed into his eyes, stuttered breathing in between sobs.

Upon approaching him he attempted to scoot himself away, glass shards sinking into his hands, a gasp filling the room and you were certain you needed to find someone else to–

“Please don’t make me go back!”

You couldn’t form words.

“I-it was an accident, I-I promise.”  His eyes brimmed with a fear you never could have imagined coming close to witnessing in this lifetime.  “Just–I just got some water-I didn’t mean to break it, I s-swear.  Please d-don’t let them take me.”

Glass crunched under your boots, a slow approach as you crouch in front of the shattered man with the saddest eyes you’d ever seen.  With a shaky breath and careful movements, a silent request to assess his arm and hands is made.  You’re sure your wide eyes can’t be comforting in the slightest though the shock still pulses through you.  

“I’m sorry.” 

“Shh.”  You soothe. 

Forehead pressed to his in a moment of solace, you offer a nudge, nose to nose.  A wordless commitment.  Softness he didn’t know he needed, tender touches of your fingertips to his wet cheek as if to promise a remedy for his aching heart, that you weren’t planning on going anywhere.  You weren’t leaving him like he convinced himself you would or god forbid turn him over to the authorities like he feared.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

–

Glass has been carefully swept three times over, though you were considering a fourth for good measure.  Shards had been plucked from Eddie’s poor hands, your tweezers doing the job just fine after being doused in some cheap vodka he had.  Gauze from a first aid kit you thankfully had in the car had been wrapped around the largest gash in his forearm, not large enough for stitches but large enough to wince at.  He sat there the whole time, staring at the ceiling, the floor, anywhere but your face.  

The silence was heavy, a dense fog that hung low throughout his house.  Someone had to break it but both parties were finding difficulties in voicing the reality of what just occurred.  If either spoke it would make it real.  Right now it was hazy, a question of “are we dreaming or did I just walk in on a suicide attempt?” hung in the air.

He said it was an accident, and you believed him.  There was just so much unanswered and it’s the only thing that came to mind.  Anxious fingers tapped against his own thigh, occasionally twisting his rings round and round while gnawing on his lower lip.  It then dawned on you that he was the most human out of anyone you’d ever met.  

He felt on a deeper level than most.

At the touch of your gentle hand against his, his surprised eyes, parted lips, and hesitance to reciprocate hint that he hadn’t anticipated you sticking around this long after you’d found him.  In the standard of fight or flight, he froze.  Realistically he may have been sitting on his tattered couch while you tended to his wounds, both physical and emotional whether he cares to admit or not, but mentally he checked out the second he found himself surrounded by glass and tears.

“Bambi–”

“You don’t need to say anything.”

You were trying to keep it together.  His croaking voice made that hard.  But in all seriousness it wasn’t fair to throw yourself a pity party in light of Eddie’s current stability.  And you’d reject the idea of throwing him a pity party, wouldn’t even touch the idea, but you would offer him all the empathy your soul had collected in a lifetime.  Even not knowing the culprit of his now dried up tears and stinging hands, you’d go to war for him.  Maybe that was dare you even think it, love.  But that’s a crisis for another time.

“Dad died.”

Somehow the silence became even greater, a gigantic void of confusing thoughts and complicated quick conclusions.  Conclusions you backtracked on immediately.  It wasn’t your decision to declare how he should feel about a man who in your eyes and through his words put him through hell no matter how strong your sense of justice grew.      

“Oh, Eddie, I’m so–”  A soft beginning to a sympathetic apology short lived.

“It’s fucked.”  His voice cracked, stoic face crumbling no matter how hard he tried to rebuild the tough exterior.  “I shouldn’t–”  There’s a pause, an intake of shaky breath.  “I shouldn’t feel bad.”

“You’re allowed to.”

“No, no he ruined fucking–everything.”

“And you’re still allowed to mourn.  Even for as shitty of a person as he was, you were still his son and that meant something to you.”

You wished you could erase the flash of pain that glazed over his eyes; something that tells you he knew every word you spoke to be true but couldn’t quite bring himself to be at peace with it yet.  Dust collected on the coffee table in his eternity of reflection, a melancholy aura blanketing the dark cabin as wind whistled through the chimney like spirits demanding attention.  

“How’d you know?”  He finally asked, timid.

“Hm?”

“I left everyone hanging, they all think I’m out with the flu, how did you pick the exact moment I…”

“Needed someone?”

Eddie nodded, hesitantly, like those weren’t the exact words he would pick himself but they seemed to convey what was necessary.  

“Wayne called me.”  You sigh.  “Said he got my number from Steve.  Everyone wanted to jump on the first plane over y’know?”  At this a trace of a fraction of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth but he did his best to contain it.  “But it’s Christmas, flights are booked, and even then there’s a storm coming in.  Wayne said he couldn’t get a hold of you.”

“So you knew?”

“No.”  You assure, taking care to relax your features.  “Just sounded really worried, didn’t want to air everything out.  He wanted me to check in.  I guess he has some kind of godly intuition.”  You chuckle.

Eddie retracts his hand, and you know you’ve lost him to his inner battle again.  You can only imagine the bloodshed happening within, after all, you were no stranger to deconstructing your own self worth brick by brick.  The traumas he had been faced with were not anything therapy could simply remove like a tumor.  There were no treatments afterward to ensure everything would get better.  You knew this first hand, that you could try and try to get to the root but there was never any way to truly remove it to keep it from ever festering again.  It would appear, it would be when you least expected, at your worst, and it would look you in the eye and test you.

“I’ll be fine.”

Famous last words.  When the host convinces themselves but could never actually believe it to be true in their lifetime.

“But right now you’re not.”

Sabotage.  In his eyes.

“But I will be.  Don’t let me ruin your holiday just because–”

Excuses.  Deterring from the targeted enemy: grief, in the name of saving others the trouble.  A tactic you’d perfected in your years of people pleasing and feeding your tendencies to deflect your sorrows with the intent to appear invisible and self destruct.

“Stop it.”  You demand.

“No, Bambi.  Go to Donnie’s, I’m sure they’ll understand you coming early–”

“Stop.”

Rational thoughts were shoved into a neat little box somewhere else in his mind and you only hoped you could aid in retrieving it before he threw away the key.  Before he decided not even he was worthy of hearing them from himself.  And as he crossed his arms, a stubborn gesture, you braced for impact against his defenses.  His cruel inner monologue and haunted house of a brain.

Big eyes adorned with every brown hue under the sun dissipated into pure darkness.  Cold and black, lacking any of the warmth you’d previously basked in.  He was lost in an underworld he’d been promised to since birth.

“Would you listen to me?!”  Eddie’s jaw clenched in utter frustration and you swear a bead of sweat trickles into his eyebrow.  “I’m not–I don’t wanna be the guy to drag you down.  I’m not gonna be that guy, I won’t do it.  My shit is my shit.”

You weren’t going to become complicit in the reality he’d settled for, the reality in which he felt he deserved scraps and just enough attention to deter himself from going insane.

“And I’m not gonna be the one to leave you while you’re hurting.”  Finally catching his avoidant eye contact, you offer his forearm a squeeze.  A plea.  “Throw me out in the snow, I don’t care but I’m still gonna sit on your porch until you let me in.  I don’t care what holiday it is.”

“Go.”

You try not to take it personal.  It’s not personal.

“Fine.”

The last thing he hears is a slam of the door, refusing to even glance at where you previously sat adjacent to him.  The room turned colder, more vacant.  Even your energy had left with you, none spared for him of course, because why would he be spared anything from your healthy heart?  His was black and blue, barely pumping, and he’d be damned if he was going to let you perform CPR on what he considered an already lost cause.

Do not resuscitate.

As quickly as he’d accepted the death of a budding relationship, the door swung open with aggression to interrupt his mourning, smacking the wall and no doubt breaking through some drywall.  The least of his problems as he watched your determination in setting some stacked boxes on his kitchen counter before exiting again, this time leaving the door wide open.  

It was eerie, the way your second exit was so open ended.  Snow flurries entered and gusts of wind toyed with his curls, his cheeks already hurting a tad with the coldness.  Eddie wasn’t sure what to make of it, you’d dropped off a box of what appeared to be Christmas decorations and what?  Stormed off?  Somehow that hurt even more than the first time, though he’d anticipated the day you would figure out how fucked up he was and retreat.  He could prepare all he wanted but nothing stung more than the actual—

In you came, a box of ornaments under one arm and a small Christmas tree under the other.  And you got to work, setting up the three foot tree right on his coffee table, plugging it in to the nearest outlet and initiating a soft glow of white lights, instantly engulfing the room in a newfound safeness.  The tree needed fluffed and appeared to have bed head, though it still served its cheerful purpose regardless.

Eddie sat with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, on the edge of the couch, eyes shut.  An uphill battle.

“Bambi, what did I tell you–”

“You told me to go.”  You nod confidently, a frown betraying you, pulling at the corners of your mouth.   “And I did.  You didn’t say how long or—or where to go.  But I gave you time to cool off and now you’re gonna either sit and pretend Christmas isn’t a thing or you’re gonna watch the stupid little clay people on TV while I cook dinner and bake.  Either one is good with me but I’m gonna be here whether you like it or not and—“

Before you can look up amidst your rambling, a ringed finger hooks itself in one of your belt loops, tugging you into a warm chest.  

There he is.

Warmth restored in his irises and a semblance of a smirk threatened his lips.  Pale skin rosy in all the right places and endearing eyelashes framing his shy gaze down at you.  Your boy.  

Lips grazed lips, noses nudged into each other, and it all just…made sense.  Bambi and Eddie.  There is not one without the other, not anymore.  Not since you sauntered into his life, demanded a job, puked on him, made him go absolutely insane—

“I love you.”  

It just fell from his tongue.  A promise.

“I-are—are you s—“

“Am I serious?  Is that what you’re gonna ask?”  He nearly mocks your mouthful of syllables.

You nod, gulping.  Not because you’re afraid, no, never.  You’d just never seen such assurance in a single man.

“Bambi…” He tuts.  “You don’t see how bad I’ve got it for you?”

All you can manage is to dumbly bat your eyelashes up at him, mouth hung open like a fish and fists clutching the front of his shirt unknowingly, though he doesn’t mind in the slightest if you stretch out his collar.  

“Bad.”  He reiterates.  “So bad, that even if you don’t feel the same, even if you only like me out of pity—“

“I don’t—“

“I’m not finished.”  Your attempted interruption has him thumbing at your bottom lip.  “Even if you only like me out of pity, I’ll take it.  And I’ll run with it.  Far.  Because I’m pathetic—“

“You are not.” 

“I’m a pathetic man.  Who is deeply in love with you, Bambi.”  

“Stop saying you’re pathetic.”  You challenge quietly, a delicate hand tracing the stubble of his jaw.

“Oh, but I am.”  He breathes, leaving no room for argument when he presses his lips against yours as if it were his last chance.  

Did he believe it was his last chance?

And without thinking, tongues collided, teeth clashed, he had backed you into the wall and there was no telling how you found yourself palming him over rough denim, a whine escaping his throat before you’d barely touched him.

A pathetic whine dare you say.

“Sorry, sorry.”  You gasp, string of saliva connecting you like the invisible string you believed tied you to him all along.

“Don’t—ow!  Jesus fuck.”  Eddie winced, shaking his hand in the air after attempting to cup your blushing cheek.  “Forgot I had fucking…glass in my hand earlier.”

You giggle, a saccharine sound, a melody in his ears that he yearned to make more of.  Embarrassment traces your features, brows pulled into a worrisome look while you hold your hands close against your chest, afraid of further touch much to his dismay.  

“Can you…can you do that again?”  He whispers.  Terrified of the consequences but brave enough to face the rejection.

Nodding, your slow hand reaches for his cheek, thumb grazing over it before trailing down his neck.  His breath hitches, your hand traveling lower and lower, over his chest and down his stomach, exploring all that you’ve so desired only in your wildest  wet dreams.  

Lifting the hem of his shirt ever so slightly, just enough to let your fingers graze his soft skin, your main goal is to tug at that delicious happy trail.  And when you do, he can’t admit to you that he nearly cums in his jeans but you’re certain you’re on the same page when you see his eyes roll back into his skull.

 He can’t control himself when he ruts into you the second your palm meets him once again, beautiful, breathy sighs escaping his pouty, plump lips.  

“Like that, baby?”  You ask, trailing hot kisses down his throat.

“Please.”  A whisper that tells you everything.  “I-I never—no one’s ever—“  He tries to warn you.

“What?”  You encourage, tongue tracing his earlobe.  “No one’s ever taken care of you, huh?”  

“Just my hand.”  Eddie jokes, voice strained.

Guiding him to sit back on the couch, it protests beneath the weight of you both as you crawl into his lap.  Careful fingers toy with the curls at the nape of his neck, patient lips hovering over his.  Doe eyes look up at you, half in admiration, half in hesitation.  

“We can stop.”  You assure him, sweet kisses pressed to each corner of his lips.

“No, no.”  His voice shakes, chest heaving.  “I just—I don’t know exactly…what I’m doing.”  

There’s an undertone of humiliation, the opposite effect you wanted to have on him.  But you were confident that you could make him feel comfortable.  Feel sexy and wanted.

“Let me do the work.”  You whisper against his lips, slowly rolling your hips into him.  “Let me take care of you.”  

He nods, frantically moving to undo his zipper, only to be met with your delicate hands wrapping around his knuckles.  You’re so patient with him, so gentle, so unlike what he’s ever been faced with.

“I said, let me take care of you.”

Feather light kisses pressed to his knuckles, you continue rotating your hips against his, feeling his bulge in between your legs, the friction tightening the knot within you.  His eyebrows knit together, head falling back against the couch’s when you graze your fingertips just below his shirt again.  

Nails gently drag down his torso, eliciting the loudest moan you’ve pulled from him so far.  His injured hands only allow him to take their place in your belt loops again, assisting in setting the pace as you grind against him.

“Eddie.”  You whimper.

“M’ gonna cum.”  He halts your movements, only letting you hover above what was about to be sweet euphoria.  “Wanna be inside of you.”

You can only gaze at him with the utmost love, entranced by his flushed appearance and his damp curls framing his face.  

“Please, baby.  Please, I’ve got condoms—“

You have to stop his babbling by shoving your tongue in his mouth, nodding against him with a grin.  

“You bought condoms?  Boy, are you prepared—“

A playful pillow is tossed into your face, a deep groan coming from your boy.  

“Yes, I’m cautious, baby, please if you don’t sit on my dick right now, if I have to go one more minute not knowing what it’s like…”

“Shhh, okay, okay!!”  You squeal when he attempts to get up only to fail with you pushing back.  You knew damn well he was strong enough to fling you off of his lap should he choose, which only made your underwear more of a mess.

“You wanna go to the bedroom?”  You tease, nuzzling into his cheek.  

Without a second of hesitation, he launches you both off of the couch, palms against your ass only making you wonder how much his hands must hurt and how much adrenaline he must have not to care.  Playfully, Eddie tosses you onto his bed, a pile of unkempt sheets that only seemed that much more comfortable than your own bed.  You could die happily in the smell that engulfed you.  Purely Eddie.  Woodsy and minty.  A tad smoky.  And some hints of apple.

Just when you think he’s about to jump your bones, in every literal sense, you open your eyes to find him carefully adjusting the needle of his record player in the corner of the room.  And then it plays.  A rendition of Can’t Help Falling in Love.  A folkier version, a woman singing with a twang to her voice.  

“Well alright, cowboy.”  You joke, an over seductive brow raising at him.  

“Shut up.”  He grins, crossing his arms to take his shirt off and toss it behind him.  

“C’mere.”  You reach over, tugging at his belt until he hovers over you.  “Wanna see you.” 

“You are seeing me, been here the whole time.”

Quickly, he gathers what you mean as you reverse positions, pushing him back on the bed to trail your lips along his stomach.  Perfectly pretty lips follow along the scars he’d been left with years ago.  The rough texture doesn’t deter you, doesn’t scare you off like he imagined.  While your lips explore his scarred side, your hand delicately traces the dragon tattooed along his ribs on the opposite side.  Inked skin that arose with goosebumps after each touch.

As if he hadn’t already died and gone to heaven, you stop your torment on his body to discard your own shirt, leaving you in only your bra before him.  Careful to grab his hand, you drag his fingers down your chest, in between the valley of your breasts, down, down, down until you let him dip into your pants.  Beneath your damp panties, collecting slick before he catches on your clit, a moan falling so desperately from your lips.  

“F-feel what you do to me?”

It aches.

His finger sits pressed against your throbbing clit, teasing in a way he has no idea about yet.  But he will and you’re not quite ready to relinquish that power to him…yet.  

You can’t handle the confines of clothing any longer, releasing your breasts as you unhook your bra and toss it to the side.  His eyes grow, lips parted in awe.  And when you go to shimmy your jeans off, the friction against his hand pulls a mewl from you, something so pretty and real.  

You’re completely bare, prey for him to claim although he doesn’t, he lets you have control.  And then you remove his hand, only to drag yourself over his denim covered thigh, slick coating the material without much effort.  

Catching his eyes, you watch as he brings his finger up to his lips, tongue wrapping around the digit with a moan of approval.  That’s when you decided you couldn’t drag it on any longer.

His belt buckle clinked against itself as you worked to yank his jeans down, practically drooling for his cock, drunk on the mere idea of even seeing it.  Plaid boxers ignored, you pay attention to the way it slaps against his stomach, already leaking and red.  Painfully aroused.

He barely survives when you decide to lower yourself and lick a long stripe up the underside, twitching against your tongue.

“B-baby, please.”  While grinding into nothing, poor boy.  “Wanna cum, wanna cum so bad.”

He’s been taunted enough, breaking a sweat as he lays there, fisting the sheets in his hands.  You’ve nearly brought him to tears and you’ve barely touched him.

Leaving open mouthed kisses along his reddening chest, you finally offer some relief, ripping open a condom he’d somehow grasped in his hand the entire time, rolling it onto him, and sinking down, swallowing him into your warmth.  Eddie makes the prettiest sounds, small almost hiccups and gasps.  Slowly, you work your hips against him, clit rolling just right against his pubic hair. 

He’s big, stretches you out and hits just the right spot.  Hips stuttering, he places his hands on your waist, cut hands be damned.  Eddie’s close, has been this entire time, but he can’t contain himself the second you lick up a bead of sweat from his chest to his collarbone.  The site is simply too pornoraphic for his inexperienced dick, hot cum filling the condom.  The moan he lets out as he finishes only encourages you, gets you going faster in the limited time you now have before he softens.  

Automatically you reach down to play with your clit, knowing it’ll push you over the edge though he realizes and beats you to it, a rough finger circling you in a pleasant rhythm.  Overstimulated whines fall from him but he doesn’t quit giving you what you need, what you so desperately desire.  

Then all at once, pleasure crashes down around you, pulsing around him, leaving you twitching and panting.  The record stopped playing however long ago, the silence pulling you back into the realm of Eddie’s bedroom.

 Nothing needs to be said, words aren’t on your minds.  Excuses for what just occurred are nonexistent because if you’re being honest, it was sewn into the timeline no matter what.  Forever embedded into the universe in every lifetime.  Heavy breaths carried a symphony during the cool down, sweaty chests pressed together, sticky and salty.

Absentmindedly your foot grazed against his hairy shin, fingers dancing along his chest and arm.  His bicep was toned, something you were never able to appreciate up close before but would now take all the time you wanted.  You wanted to memorize every detail of his body, every freckle, hair, and birthmark.  All of him.

His lazy hand let his fingers trail up and down your spine, writing letters unknown to you but etched into his brain for as long as he knew you.  He held a new appreciation for intimacy, something he sourly wrote off early on but now would cherish deeply.  

Girls never liked him but if he could go back in time and show younger Eddie the one girl who would ever matter to him, well he imagines younger Eddie would still be a naive dipshit about it but he could try nonetheless.  Supposes he would hit him with a “it gets better, kid” and all that sappy shit.  Something like “you’re gonna marry this girl”.  That would be okay to jump the gun on, right?

–

Cinnamon and chocolatey aromas couldn’t completely wash away the somber haze although it was fairly close.  Post sex air somewhat helped as well, though you weren’t banking on it, it wasn’t a solution, more like a deterrent that hadn’t been planned on either part.  

The little plastic tree on the coffee table decorated with years old ornaments wasn’t going to heal the bruising on an ever healing heart.  Christmas classics played on the TV but you knew Rudolph wasn’t going to erase a lifetime's worth of childhood trauma.  

It could help though.  And that’s all that mattered.  If watching Christmas classics only aided in healing a millionth of the wounds, then it was worth doing.  If decorating his once dark and depressing house with twinkling lights and garland only brought out a smidge of the inner child that needed help healing, then it was worth it.  

While Eddie slept in, you played Santa even if just with one gift, leaving it next to the coffee table, too large to fit under the small tree.  Though it didn’t start out perfect, Christmas was starting to look very familiar.  Baked goods sat out on top of the stove, cinnamon rolls, croissants, the works.  Eddie’s shitty little kitchen radio played Christmas tunes which you found yourself humming along to.  

You’d thrown together some maple bacon, drizzling actual maple syrup on the strips in hopes that they’d candy in the oven, which they did.  Hash browns sat in the skillet, slightly burned but at least there was ketchup in the fridge to cover up the burnt taste.  Snow blanketed the streets outside, snowing you in although you didn’t mind one bit.  

You’d called Donnie, heard the commotion over the line at her house, family members causing a ruckus in the background as she made pancakes.  While you were supposed to be with everyone this morning, she assured you all was well and you could hear the smirk in her voice.

Emerging from his room, Eddie’s bed head is the first thing you greet.  Curls sticking out every which way, bangs defying gravity.  Lines ran down his face, imprints from the sheets and his boxers hung low on his hips.  A dream.

“Merry Christmas to you too.”  You giggle at the way he squints in the early morning sunlight peeking through the window.  

Stretching his arms over his head, you’re forced to witness the way every muscle flexes, drool nearly falling from the corner of your mouth.  It doesn’t go unnoticed but he decides it can be addressed later.  

“Merry Christmas, did you get me some fucking curtains so I can actually see?”  He laughs, voice husky with sleep.  

“No but I can do you one better—“

“I was joking Bambi, I wasn’t actually expecting any—“

“Next to the table.”  

Your grin makes him want to run directly to you and spin you around, kiss you a few dozen times, and never leave this bubble you two have created.  Instead he hesitantly steps toward the previously mentioned gift, a large gift at that, wrapped thoughtfully in reindeer paper and complete with a large red bow.  He felt like an asshole.

“I—no I can’t—“

“Open it.”  

Eddie just stared. 

“Eddie, it’s Christmas, first thing you do is open gifts!”  You smile, approaching behind him.

Then he disappeared back into his room, the sound of him rummaging the only thing letting you know he hasn’t retreated just to hide from you.  When he walks back out, he’s hiding something behind his back, a nervous smile tugging at his face.  

“I swear—I was going to wrap it, I just—I don’t have an excuse.  I just didn’t.  I’m sorry.”  His large brown eyes plead with you, begging for forgiveness that he didn’t need to beg for in the first place.

As if defeated, he hands you a stack of records, several that probably cost a good paycheck.  And you can tell he feels it’s not even enough with the way he avoids your gaze.

“Um, it’s probably stupid, it’s just, they’re records that made me think of you.  I dunno, it’s dumb, music is just—“

“I love you.”  You interrupt.

Without another word you grab the records from him to momentarily set them on the table.  Before he knows it you're smashing your lips against his, passion being poured into every breath he takes against you.  Your hands cup his cheeks, still slightly stubbly but cute.  He wraps his large hands around your wrists, hissing at the slight sting but continuing. 

“You’re not just saying that—“

“I.  Love.  You.”  You enunciate each word with a peck.  “Point blank.  No exceptions.  You’re stuck with me old man.”

“Old man?  We’re like the same age—“

You’ll never forget the amusement on his face but what attracts your attention next are the records.  A huge stack of them.  All genres.  Some Elvis, ones that hadn’t made it in your collection yet, a few that seemed more his taste, metal.  It was a universal language and it was his preferred way of feeling.  That much you could gather.

“Um, yeah, if you don’t like them I can just…”

“Don’t like them?”  You scoff.  “I love them.”

You hold them close to your chest, as if they were books and you were in high school.  You suppose you could be what with the way butterflies erupted in your stomach.  He made you feel like you were in high school, gave you a sense of youth that had been skipped over previously.  

And he was blushing. 

“Well, uh, I just thought you know…music does a lot for me.  I picked some out that I knew you’d like.  Also put some that I like in there, I dunno why, you don’t have to listen to them.”

“Oh, we are listening to them.  Right after you open your gift.”

More blushing.

Eddie takes a few glances at the gift, as if it were there to test him.  Like Pandora’s box or something.  Then he crouches down beside it, hesitantly reaching out to peel back the paper.  A giddy grin rests on your face, records still clutched in your hold.  His face says it all once he’s torn through enough paper.  It’s a guitar case, that much he can tell, eyes nearly popping out of his head.  Then he opens the case, revealing a cherry red electric something that you couldn’t memorize the name of but all you knew was that he had his eyes on it for months before you even entered the picture.  At least that’s what the guy at the thrift shop said. 

“No fucking way.”  He smiles, half laughs.  Then repeats himself.  Over and over.

“Do you like it?”

Instead of receiving verbal confirmation, you’re nearly tackled, strong arms wrapping around you and swinging you around.  Laughter erupts from deep within you, Eddie setting you down just to kiss you deeply and with so much care you figure you’ll faint.  

“I love it, I love you.”

Later that morning, frosting coats his lips then transfers to yours in a quick kiss across his tiny dining table.  The bacon is devoured, mostly on his account, and those claymation Christmas classics elicit laughter like no other.  Deep belly laughs from the man whose legs you sit in between.  His shirt rests comfortably on your torso.

He calls Wayne, puts it on speaker, and effortless banter occurs between you three.  Wayne tells his boy to behave, wishes him a Merry Christmas, apologizes that times have been so shitty and that his flight had been canceled.  Thanks you for being there to ground his boy, tells you how much Eddie’s friends have gone on and on about you two, that he can’t wait to meet you.

Then you call up your family back home, more than likely all crammed in the same house, doing puzzles, arguing over stupid things, throwing wrapping paper everywhere.  You miss it.  But you wouldn’t trade your place right now for anything.  Eddie timidly and adorably chimes in, says hi.  Makes small talk with mom and grandma.  Grandma begs him to take a look at her station wagon when he makes his way over with you for a visit some day.  No question about it, he’s going and that’s final, according to her.  He doesn’t seem to mind though, a shy smile pulling at his lips.

Lastly you call up the gang.  Nancy answers, says everyone’s at their house as usual.  Shouting between Dustin, Steve, and Mike is heard in the background.  Something about a broken sled.  Robin takes the call hostage, telling you both about the juicy gossip amongst the group.

“And then Max—you haven’t met Max yet, Bambi, but Max left Lucas a—shit you haven’t met Lucas yet either.  This would all make so much more sense then.”

There’s talk of a summer trip, something fun everyone can join in on.  Kind of like summer camp except Nancy would of course be the ring leader by default.  She would more than likely assign the adults as camp counselors unofficially.  Eddie’s face lights up, tells her about the perfect campsite not far from his house.  Beautiful in the summertime.  Then looks at you, shares a dimpled grin and runs his thumb over your knee.

Loved ones called and bellies full, Eddie plays around with his new guitar, and softly in the background, Muddy Waters plays.  One of the records he’d gifted you.

~end~

Masterlist

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tags - @gravedigginbbydoll @ohauggieo @spicysix @lunatictardis @ali-r3n @batkin028 @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @emma77645 @emxxblog @eddiesxangel @angietherose @lottie-90 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @pullingattheroots @avalon-wolf @vintagehellfire @cryingglightningg @foreveranexpatsposts @winchester-angel @mmunson86 @witchwolflea @kurdtbean @micheledawn1975 @tlclick73 @erinekc @hazydespair @whenshelanded @corrodedcoffincumslut @ms1oftheboys @lma1986 @uglypastels @aysheashea @dashingdeb16

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #smoke signals #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie Munson series #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fic

[palfriendpatine66]

Fic Rec Friday - Smut Fics

I asked for your smuttiest fic recs and here is what you all delivered! This diverse fic list might help you find something new. Read the descriptions and then check the tags before reading. Be kind. Don’t yuck anyone’s yum. If you don’t like it keep on scrolling for something you do. I know we can do this. Enjoy! 💕

Your community sourced spank bank is as follows: please let me know if there is anything crazy in the formatting or links. Im doing my best!

Happy Wife, Happy Life - Squid_Ink: (Rexsoka) post o66, feat. heavily pregnant Ahsoka who is feeling down about how her body is changing, a feeling that is not helped by the scent of Rex's Togruta coworkers on him :3

Duchess, Degenerate, Disaster - Sendpseuds (Obi-Wan kenobi/Satine/Quinlan Vos) : Satine and Obi-Wan invite Quinlan to bed. A threesome from all three perspectives.

‘Com’Passion - wibzen: (Obi-Kenobi/Mace Windu/Anakin Skywalker) Anakin walks in on Obi-Wan and Mace Windu and is conflicted, to say the least. They help him through it.

Sell Your Body To The Night (Prostitute!Anakin AU) - Bittodeath: The whole series is one long fuck and kink fest. It includes Anakin/Cody, Anakin/Fives, Anakin/Wolfe, Anakin/Fox, Anakin/Obi-Wan, Anakin/Mace, Anakin/Quinlan

Spanking Skywalker - Maiaspen: Very obikin heavy fic but also feat. Anakin/Kit Fisto and Obi-Wan/Kit Fisto in which Kit Fisto takes it upon himself to discipline Obi-Wan’s petulant padawan

Help you to help me - you_idjits: (Referenced Quin/Anakin but only obikin action. Quin and Anakin report to the council after having taken part of a *fertility ritual* on a joint mission. Obi-Wan is definitely fine with that. Totally. So fine. It’s fine.

bound up with you - DreamingMoonlight: (obikin) Anakin asks Obi-Wan to try tying him up in bed

Fuck You Daddy - loquarocoeur; (Obikin) Anakin slips up during sex. Obi-Wan is a little shit. They fuck about it (daddy kink)

Lace Me Up, Hold Me Tight - lilredghost: (obikin) There's a little misunderstanding when Obi-Wan and Anakin are first back at the temple together, but it gets sorted out and ends up with a delicious bottom Obi-Wan in lingerie that Anakin has his way with.

Test Drive - sendpseuds (Obikin) Road head, the fic.

Serendipity - Darkwhisperings (Obikin) An accidental discovery on the holonet leads Anakin to a personal discovery about himself. And his Master. The rest, well, that's a happy accident. (breath play, praise kink, gentle dom obi-wan kenobi)

Comfort - skyl_tales : (Obikin) Omega Obi-Wan ends up nursing Anakin when he first came to him. What starts off innocent takes a turn as Anakin, an alpha, grows up (male lactation)

Lifting the fog - egeria: (obikin) By the early afternoon, Anakin knew he needed a release. A release he could not hope to find on his own. So, instead, he found Obi-Wan. or: sometimes, anakin needs his daddy (Known to convert readers to age play)

Cooking Lesson - rexismycopilot (Obikin) Anakin is a culinary student under Chef Kenobi. He finds out the hard way what happens when he doesn’t listen (non con, dubious consent, spanking)

he already acts the part of the baby, just give him the pacifier - GayCheerios: Obi-Wan and Anakin land on a strange planet, and they are all but required to try and live a life of Caregivers and Littles (age play/regression)

Obikin Kinktober 2023 - lemon_sprinkles Featuring 31 kinky one shots 🔥🔥🔥

Bath time Gwendolyn (storiesofchaos) (part of their Baby Bratty Padawan Anakin series) bath time, bratting to get fucked

Obikin Kaleidoscope | Prompted AUs - intermundia: 25 glorious chapters of prompt fills. So many different situations, all amazing! (Or anything by them. Highly recommend!)

We become the threads, intertwining - Gwendolyn (storiesofchaos): (Obikin) Or, in which Anakin knows pretending to be married to his Master and sleeping in the same bed is never destined to end well. Until it does

For Your Pleasure -himboskywalker: (Obikin) Undercover as slaver and slave,Obi-Wan and Anakin infiltrate a slaver's ring,only for Anakin's training and ability to take punishment to come into question.

Cross-Wired -himboskywalker; (Obikin) In the midst of battle Anakin's prosthesis takes damage and with no backup arm,it's a problem that needs immediate fixing.But crushed durasteel and fritzed wires equals all sorts of curious nerve responses while his master tries to disconnect the neural receptors.

Give them Blood - himboskywalker: (Obikin) In the midst of the Clone Wars Obi-Wan is bitten by an alien creature that forces him to live off human blood.During a campaign on Eadu it becomes a complication under blockade and Anakin is determined to not let his stubborn master starve.This has nothing to do with the way his stomach flips at the sight of Obi-Wan's sharpened fangs, not at all.

portrait of a female, blahzarry: (obikin)Ducking into a dingy movie theatre to hide from the enemy, Anakin and Obi-Wan get more than they bargained for

Mutually Assured Destruction - Darkwhispering & tideswept: (obikin)CEO Obi-Wan who is in a marriage of convenience with politician Satine, thinks he takes home sex worker Anakin.

Aggressive negotiations - rangarlothcat: (Obikin)Or, five times Obi-Wan makes use of Anakin's beauty in a negotiation, and one time someone turns the tables on him.

Learn your place, young one: Ragnarlothcat: (Obikin) Obi-Wan and his Padawan have just foiled an assassination attempt against Senator Amidala. Obi-Wan suspects they're about to be sent on separate missions and the very idea of it is eating him up inside, probably because he's worried Anakin will embarrass himself again. Probably that and no other reason.

The Size of the Fight in the Dog - tennessoui: (Obikin) The thing is, there's very little doubt in Anakin's mind that his master is just as in love with him as he is with his master. He just doesn't know if Obi-Wan is on the same page. But Anakin can seduce him. He's very desirable, everyone thinks so. And with the war buffeting them about around the galaxy, he can't take the risk of his master not knowing they're meant to be together. Not when one of them could die any day. Or worse, sleep with someone else.

Sordid Details Following jld_az (Not Star Wars) Chronicles of Amber

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